Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural . . . I would be rich. And worshipped. Alas, I'm no such thing, so what does that tell you?
Summary: They kept him company. He could hear their voices and see them as if they had physical bodies.
They kept him company.
He could hear their voices and see them as if they had physical bodies. Not all of them, but perhaps that was a blessing.
It had started the moment he'd fallen into this world, beginning as only a few ghosts before more joined them. So far, none of the Winchesters had spoken up. That was a shame, for he could have used their help. They were both highly intelligent, and their thoughts would have been welcome.
"You know you're only making it worse by not lying," Meg said, striding along beside him.
"I will stay until I have sufficient power to leave," Castiel said simply.
"Because your stay in that other hospital was just so cozy," she said sarcastically.
Castiel smiled slightly. "I have missed you, Meg."
"Aw, Clarence. Stop. You're breaking my heart."
"This is sarcasm, isn't it?"
"I think you're getting better at this, Feathers," Crowley said as he appeared behind him, hands shoved casually into his pockets. "Congratulations."
Cas chose to ignore him, and followed the nurse to the room in which he would meet the man who would help him.
Dr. Dean Winchester.
He stepped through the door and met the green gaze of the man whom he had saved, and who had saved him in return.
"Hello, Dean."
The doctor seemed taken aback by Castiel's use of his first name, but caught his balance only a moment later. "Hey. Castiel Novak, right?"
"Yes."
Dean waved a hand. "Go ahead and sit down, Cas."
Castiel did so, ignoring Crowley's hissed whisper of, "Winchesters. They're everywhere."
Dean leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk. "So you're an angel, huh?"
"I am," Castiel said.
"You're not like any angel I've ever seen."
"Oh, if only he knew. Right, Cassie?" Gabriel nudged him.
"Have you seen very many?" Castiel asked, tilting his head, forgoing at the moment to reply to his brother.
Dean's lips quirked. "Alright, you've got me there."
"Got you . . . ?"
"He means that you're making sense," Gabriel translated. Castiel nodded to him in thanks.
"So what's up?"
Castiel cast a puzzled glance towards the ceiling.
"He means 'what's going on', Cas," Gabriel said, rolling his eyes.
"I see."
"Who're you talking to?" Dean asked, looking interested.
"My brother," Castiel said, "Gabriel."
"That's me, by the way," Gabriel added, idly leaning back in his chair. "In case you couldn't tell."
"Really? What'd he say?" Dean questioned.
"He told me what you meant by your enquiry of 'What's up'."
"You didn't know?"
"I sometimes have trouble understanding such things," Castiel admitted. "Though recent events have changed a lot of that."
"What happened?"
"One of my oldest brothers took over Heaven," Castiel said sorrowfully. "It was a terrible affair. My siblings had Fallen, all except for him. It never should have happened, but I . . . I was foolish, Dean. Very foolish. I have made so many mistakes."
"Don't blame yourself, brother," Samandriel said comfortingly, resting a hand that held only the faintest of warmth on Castiel's shoulder. "Metatron betrayed you. The blame lies on his shoulders, not yours."
"You give me too much credit," Castiel said, meeting his brother's gaze. "It was my error in judgment that caused the Angels to Fall. I thought I had changed, but it seems I am still just as naïve as ever."
"Who is it now?" Dean asked, watching curiously.
"My brother, Samandriel. He tells me that the fault is not mine."
"Why would it be?"
"I trusted my brother," Castiel said in a low voice. "I did a wrong I cannot ever make right."
"Big brothers are supposed to protect their little brothers," Dean said firmly. "Okay? They're not supposed to betray them. If it's anyone's fault, it's your brother's."
"You never change, Dean," Castiel said wonderingly, almost smiling. "That . . . that is good."
"Until he decides to go all mad-scientist and bring his brother back to life, of course," Gabriel said casually.
"Gabriel."
"What? Oh, no, those sad little puppy-dog eyes won't work on me, Cassie. So just them away. I said put them away. Cassie. Cas, stop it. It's not working. So just . . . okay, okay, I'm sorry! Father, you maniac," he muttered. "Take a joke."
Next up: The Devil is bored of being evil. Sam has a suggestion for him.
Weird Randomness!
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"You never change, Dean," Castiel said wonderingly, almost smiling. "That . . . that is good."
"Until he decides to go all mad-scientist and bring his brother back to life, of course," Gabriel said casually.
Castiel looked at Dean carefully. "Dean . . . you have not been experimenting with human life, have you?"
The doctor paled, nervously glancing down at the desk drawer that held various metal utensils and a cattle prod. "No . . ."
"Dean . . ." Cas looked at him reproachfully.
"Cas," Gabriel said. "Just run."
Crowley peered over Dean's shoulder. "Is that a harpoon under his desk?"
"There's a machine gun in the closet," Meg said. "It's loaded."
"Dean," Cas said, "I think you need help."
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