A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks for all of your favorites and reviews and things, it's really helped me keep this going. This is all un-beta'd, so all mistakes are my own. I'm still setting everything up, so be patient with me. Also, if you have any ideas as to where this story should go, feel free to throw them out there! Thanks again for reading. 3
Castiel Novak was a god damn knockout, even for a hybrid. He was twenty three years old, three weeks ago, and today was his official two year mark at the Academy. Two years ago, he stumbled onto the village of Orlovsky, a town that had only been around for a couple generations of hybrids. Newer villages such as this one were increasing across the northwestern expanse of Russia. All across the continent, and indeed the world, hybrids were being expunged from human-angel society to live on their own. Villages, and sometimes large towns, were being formed by the hybrids to accommodate their growing numbers.
Fifteen years ago, his parents had thrown him to the ball numbingly cold curb. This made him even more outlandish, seeing as how all other hybrids were usually exiled at the age of sixteen. Castiel learned to fend for himself, stealing food and supplies when he needed to, occasionally camping out in a shack. He had never made a friend in his entire life.
Castiel didn t really remember his parents, only that his mother was an angel and his father was a human who had been an agent for the KGB, an ancient society that had been around for at least a hundred and fifty years. His mother was one of the first generation of angels to have appeared on Earth and as a result, occupied a minor position in the New World Government. Effectively, Castiel's parents were moderately ashamed of his presence. Not only was he an awful side effect of a similarly awful process (which, by the way, no decent human or angel should admit to taking pleasure in the act of inter-species sex), they were far too important and busy to raise a hybrid. At eight years old, Castiel left without a word.
He had accidentally stumbled upon Orlovsky one day in the winter, half frozen and half dead. The village had taken pity on him immediately, nursing him back to health and, when they realized his vast wealth of knowledge, gave him a job in the Academy as a teacher. As a result of his solitary upbringing, he lacked the social skills of his peers. He had managed to make one friend, a baker by the name of Gabriel. The rest of the town looked on him fondly, but didn't wish to try and engage him in any kind of conversation.
Orlovsky had taken Castiel in without a word. He was a hybrid, and therefore he was family. However, everyone gave him a wide berth whenever he came around, which wasn't actually very often. Castiel had no concept of sarcasm, humor, or irony. He took sayings at their literal meaning, getting him into trouble more times than not. Needless to say, he discontinued his social escapades after one incident where Castiel tried to hunt down a well dressed woman who he thought was a serial killer, due to all the men saying, She s trying to kill me whenever she walked by.
The final bell of the day had the children scrambling to get out the door, their little wings flapping frantically. Castiel smiled at a particularly rotund child, who looked more like a cherub than an angel. The child smiled brightly and waved as he disappeared out of the door, no doubt heading to the park.
After the children had left, Castiel leaned back in his chair and stretched his wings to their full extent, relishing the relief it brought to his aching muscles. He was looking forward to a relaxing weekend, since this week had been fraught with difficulty. The United States of America had been sending out ominous, vague half-threats to the rest of the world, as if the New World Government would turn a blind eye to it. But the thing that had worried Castiel the most was, they had been. The New World Government hadn't even looked up from its paper.
America had most recently sent out a message to all corners of the Earth about the state of hybrid affairs. About how they weren't welcome in society. About how some illnesses needed to be purged. Castiel had no idea how it had come to this. Perhaps the angels had something to do with it. He ran his hands over his face and shook himself mentally. He was going to enjoy his weekend, he wanted no truck with whatever the state of affairs the world was in. He stood, donned his tan trenchcoat, a gift from Gabriel, and began to head home.
Halfway there, Gabriel skipped up beside him, whistling something Castiel couldn't recognize and snacking on a cupcake.
"Why aren't you at work?" Castiel asked in a voice like a cement truck. The Old Russian accent was gone, replaced with a much subtler one; less "r" rolling and more pronunciation in all the right places. Everyone in the New World spoke English. Granted, most of it was a clipped, colloquial version with various accents tacked on depending on where you were, but no matter where in the world you went, everyone could understand you. Gabriel offered him a different cupcake which had apparently just appeared out of thin air. Castiel declined the offer and Gabriel shrugged, throwing it in his mouth.
"Boss gave me the day off," he practically sang through a mouthful of vanilla, "he says just in case those Republican cows invade, he wants to be prepared." Gabriel threw his brother a sarcastic dark look. Castiel said nothing, choosing to roll his eyes at his friend's idea of humorous situations.
"So come on Cassie," Gabriel pestered, now pulling a bag of what looked like mini truffles from his coat, "let's do something fun tonight! You never get out." Castiel glanced sideways, watching his friend all but shovel the candies in his mouth. He smiled to himself. He didn't necessarily like being around people, but just hanging around one person, especially one as interesting and unpredictable as Gabriel was very nice.
"I think I might read tonight," Castiel said thoughtfully. Gabriel scoffed over dramatically, clutching a hand to his chest.
"Oh please," he said, clapping his poker faced friend on the shoulder, live a little! You never go out with me. He skipped so that he was walking backwards in front of Castiel, putting on a frown for show. Castiel blew his breath out through his nose and narrowed one eye at the pitiful man before him. It just went to show that of all the people he could have picked for a friend, he picked the most charming and outgoing hybrid of the entire village, whereas he was exactly the opposite. He tended to become overwhelmed with other personalities, preferring the company of less exorbitant dispositions. Gabriel had proven to be the exception of all rules.
Castiel sighed in defeat, knowing his friend wouldn't stop pestering him until he was sold on the idea of having his idea of fun that night.
"Fine," Castiel sighed, "but only for a little while."
Gabriel whooped and threw the rest of the truffles in his mouth before jetting back to his place, his mocha wings flapping out behind him as he ran.
Several hours, two bottles of vodka, and eight beers later, Castiel and Gabriel were decidedly tipsy, arms slung across each others shoulders, singing loudly and out of tune to an old American song with the rest of the crowd in the pub. It was a stupendous song to drink and subsequently sing to, regardless of the fact that no one these days could tell you what a wonderwall actually was.
When the song was over, most of the crowd began singing another classic, an old piece that encouraged the listener to never stop believing. In what, no one ever found out. The two hybrids, knowing that this was the song that emboldened even the drunkest of young women, decided that it was time for some fresh air and proceeded to exit.
They stumbled their way to the doorway and once outside, Gabriel clung to his friend for support. They sat down on a bench, their coats huddled around them. While they had been celebrating inside, the sky had decided to begin snowing, sending cascades of white flecks on everything in sight. Even after living in the snow his whole life, there were still some things whose beauty Castiel couldn't deny.
Castiel drew out a worn silver case, offering a cigarette to his friend who accepted eagerly, then instantaneously forgot about it. Castiel chuckled and lit his, letting the smoke fill his body and tingle his nerves.
"Cassie," he heard Gabriel start to slur, but Castiel shushed him.
"Don't even worry," he managed to get out, "I'm glad you... dragged... drug me out, no, it s dragged," he paused to giggle, "tonight. I had a lot of fun, Gabe."
Gabriel nodded wisely before puking on the frozen sidewalk.
Castiel quickly moved his shoes out of the splash zone, sniggering lightly and patting his friend on the back. He was enjoying himself, for the moment. The times he actually wanted to be around people were few and far between, so he had to take advantage of those times. Gabriel was always understanding of Castiel's moods. There was just a limit on the social interaction Castiel could take, and no one understood that better than Gabriel.
"Cassie,: Gabriel tried again, wiping his mouth and failing to light his cigarette, "why don't you try to make any friends?" Castiel's smile slowly faded from his face, replacing itself with a more serious expression.
"No one in this town is genuinely interested in me," he replied softly, leaning forward to help Gabriel with his cigarette. Gabriel murmured his thanks before leaning back, sighing in contentment.
"I'm sure some would," he said, "if you'd just give them a chance." He shifted on the bench a bit, apparently in deep thought. "What about that guy I set you up with a few months ago?"
Castiel scoffed. "That man made me question my faith in you, Gabe," he divulged. "He couldn't tell me who the leader of the village was."
Gabriel chortled at this, almost losing his cigarette, blanket, and the remainder of what was in his stomach. "You're kidding!"
The older hybrid shook his head, a goofy grin on his face. "And that woman," he continued, as if just remembering, "that woman you said was even prettier than the Commisare Tatyana?" (Commisare Tatyana was the most recent angel caught in Russian political scandals. She was a beautiful creature, eyes like smoke in a forest fire, wings that looked more like they were made out of crystals than feathers. Unfortunately, her game was up when they found her blowing the Prime Minister behind the stage where he was set to give the greatest motivational speech since the days of Vladmir Putin. The Prime Minister's wife was not entirely tickled at the turn in events and proceeded to delve into the Commisare's back story, finding out that she was no more than a rent-angel for high class politicians. Disregarding her shady background, she was taken under the United States of America's proverbial wing as an actress. She lives in the Second Coming of California as a promising new starlet.)
"Hey, she was pretty hot," Gabriel countered. Castiel threw him a skeptical look. "Alright so maybe I had been drinking a... tiny bit," he said quickly, not wanting Castiel's unwavering look to permeate his thoughts any more than it already had. He had a way of making Gabriel tell him the truth whether he wanted to or not. They began to giggle drunkenly, which hastily turned into outright laughter.
A rustle in the woods caught Castiel's attention. Instantly, he was sober. It was a magic trick he had picked up from his life growing up in the woods. One had to be prepared for anything at any time. Tossing his cigarette aside, he half stood, resulting in a strange, predatory position. His arms were slightly outstretched, fingers twitching. The rustling grew louder and this time, Gabriel looked up, his eyes unfocused, but still alert.
"What the he-" Gabriel started.
"Quiet," Castiel cut in, bringing a finger to his lips, which were becoming chapped in the cold. The once indistinct noise had shaped itself into the sound of uneven footsteps. Castiel froze, not sure of what was in there. No animal he'd come in contact with walked upright, however, and now the rumors of invasion suddenly wormed their way into his head.
Presently, a young man emerged from the underbrush. His face was unrecognizable in the dark, but Castiel could see the multitude of scratches that covered it. In his arms was an unconscious boy, hair matted with snow. The hybrids recoiled slightly when they saw that the men were wearing U.S. Forces uniforms.
Once on the street, the young man stopped, swaying precariously with his balance on his left foot. Castiel passively thought that the man s ankle might be twisted, but then the he dropped to his knees, the boy rolling out of his arms unceremoniously. He tried to catch his breath, though most of it was stuck in his throat, coming out as ragged wheezes from the cold. The boy abruptly smiled, staring at Castiel very strangely indeed. Castiel stood up straighter and tilted his head quizzically at the new development.
"Thank God I made it," the young man coughed through the shambles of his throat before collapsing in the snow.