A/N: Until I began this, I don't think I'd ever noticed how much Matthew Broederick's character just babbles! Hard to keep up with!

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural universe. I do not claim any ownership. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

Castiel continued to wonder at his fate as he rode pillion with the man who had saved his life. The man hadn't said anything during the entire ride. Castiel offered small comments but they weren't acknowledged. The hawk had flown up to its master and now rested on one arm as they rode. It regarded Castiel with what could only be called suspicion. Now, as the sun continued to drop below the horizon, the man was guiding them towards small hovel tucked back in the woods.

"Somebody must be home," Castiel said brightly. "There's smoke. But, wouldn't you rather ride on, sir? There's still plenty of light."

"Stop your chattering," the rider said. "We'll spend the night here."

A short, round peasant woman was making her way to the main ... hut? ... with a shout. The rider followed and she ran behind a thin man who regarded them coolly.

Castiel looked around and wondered if he wouldn't be better off sleeping on a rock in the woods. The rider, however, seemed to be intent on staying in this place and well before dark at that.

"Hello, sir. My ... comrade-in-arms and I are in need of lodging for the night," he said.

The man and his wife were both shaking their heads. The man brandished a wickedly sharp ax before him. "No ... no there is no place for you here."

The rider was undeterred. "We'll pay, of course."

The man and his wife seemed more considering after this fact. Castiel decided to speak up and show that he held some status.

"We are not above compassion for those in ... limited circumstances," Castiel jingled the coin purse as he did so.

The rider glanced back at him, annoyed, but the man pointed past them. "You may stay down there ... in the barn."

"Thank you," the rider said. He watched the couple walk into their home with narrowed eyes.

Settling into the barn, the man called Winchester pulled something from his saddlebag. He smiled wistfully. It was the helmet that once proclaimed his status as Captain of the guard. But it was what was in it that made him smile. A leather-bound book ... a journal of sorts. He was still grinning at it when he heard his new charge calling out to him.

Castiel found the rider and said, "Sir, there really isn't anything else I can do ... I'll turn in,"

The rider chuckled. "No, you can look after my horse."

Castiel regarded the large black beast with some trepidation. "Umm ... very well ..."

"You can also sleep with one eye open," the rider advised. "And don't disturb me ... I'm liable to take your head off before I realize it's you."

Castiel nodded, looking at his savior for the first time. He was surprised to see a man not much older than himself. Castiel smiled to himself at the light sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of his nose. The hazel-green eyes watched him intently as he unwound the lead and began to tug at the horse.

"C'mon, old girl," Castiel said, pulling harder as the horse did not move. "Stubborn little lady ... what's her name?"

With an amused grin that made his eyes sparkle, the rider said, "His name is Impala."

"Oh, uh ... unusual name ..."

"A Moor gave him to me along with the name, which is what they call a fleet-footed beast from his lands," the rider said. "Go with him, boy, he didn't mean to be rude."

Castiel glanced beneath the stallion and flushed. "Oh ... him ... well, let's go, boy ..." Castiel pulled on the lead and this time the horse followed. He could have sworn that he saw something like annoyance in Impala's eyes. "I think you should know that they call me the angel ... an apt nickname as I am very kind ... and did I tell you that the Lord and I have a personal acquaintance?"

Winchester shook his head as the slender man with the blue eyes led Impala off to be bedded down. "I pray for help and you send me a madman, Lord? Not very fair ..."

Going back into the stable, he took the book out once again and looked through its pages. Sketches of animals, bits of calligraphy, notes everywhere – the book was one of their father's few possessions – he'd passed it down to his sons in the hopes that they would continue it. He gently turned the pages until a familiar feeling came over him. He looked up and saw that the sun was almost gone. He put the book back into the saddlebag with a sigh. Looking up, he was momentarily transfixed by the dying light.

"One day, Sammy ... one day ..."

Castiel stomped irritably through the forest surrounding the huts. He snorted, "Comrade-in-arms ... slave more like it ..." Castiel picked up firewood as he went. "See to the fire ... feed the animals ... gather the wood ... "Castiel glanced beseechingly at the sky. "Look at me, Lord! I was better off in the dungeons of Aquila! Granted ... my cellmate was insane ... and a murderer ... but he respected me."

Castiel sighed and continued to pick up branches. He mused to himself, "He's a strange one ... I think I heard them call him Winchester? Odd name. Sur name? Why did he save my life? He wants something from me ... I can see it in his eyes." Castiel paused and glanced at the sky again. "Well, whatever it is, Lord ... I'm not going to do it! I'm still young ... I have prospects!"

Throwing down his armful of wood, Castiel turned to go back the way they'd come. "I'm off to find my golden future, Captain ... so good-bye and good -"

A snapping twig brought Castiel up short. He looked around, suddenly realizing just how dark the woods were becoming as night fell. He swallowed hard. "Hello?"

When no response was forthcoming, Castiel turned and began to walk briskly back to the barn. He heard more twigs snapping and froze. An idea occurred to him.

"Who do you think is out there?" Castiel called, shakily. "You'd better draw your sword, um ... Pierre ... oh uh, Louis! You brought your crossbow ... " Castiel took a deep breath. "Um ... we'll all go back to the barn now ..." In deeper voices, he answered himself, "Alright! Yeah!"

Castiel began to walk toward the barn again when a loud snapping echoed behind him. Castiel broke and ran pell-mell for the peasant's clearing. He tried to keep up a steady back and forth banter with his imaginary cohorts but eventually gave it up as pointless. He needed the air for running after all.

As he reached the slope that led down to the campfire and the barn, Castiel lost his footing on the leaf-strewn ground and slid down the incline with a shout. He stumbled and finally pulled himself upright as he looked around frantically for what or who ever had been following him. The woods were silent. Castiel sighed and turned to head for the barn. He sensed, rather than heard the movement behind him and was greeted by the sight of the peasant man raising his ax high above his head. Castiel abandoned all pretense and simply screamed.

A low growl rumbled behind him and Castiel turned to see an enormous black wolf racing across the clearing. He wondered what he had done to deserve death by not only a murderous peasant with an ax but also a wolf with claws and razor sharp teeth.

The wolf, however, ran past Castiel and launched itself at the man. Fangs tore into the peasant's throat as he screamed. The ax fell harmlessly to the side.

Castiel was beside himself with terror. "Sir! Sir! Wolf! Wolf!" He screamed as he ran into the barn, looking for his much-braver companion. No one was there. "Sir?"

Casting around in desperation, Castiel found Winchester's crossbow and a quarrel. His fear was making him babble worse than normal. "Wolf! Wolf!" Pulling back with all his strength, Castiel was just able to string the bow. He placed the quarrel in the groove and aimed it toward the wolf.

That was when a hand reached over and snatched the quarrel off the crossbow. Castiel jerked around and found himself looking up into amber eyes that seemed vaguely familiar. A tall man, wearing a cloak not unlike Winchester's stood behind him. The man held a finger to his lips. "Hush."

Castiel was frozen. He was quite sure that he was losing his mind ... ax murderers, wolves and now strange, freakishly tall men wearing cloaks? It was as if all the oddities of the world had singled out this moment to present themselves.

The man's eyes flicked toward the wolf and the now dead peasant. He kept his gaze focused on the creature and slowly made his way out of the barn. Castiel blinked.

He's mad ... he can't go out there, that wolf will kill him! Castiel thought.

"Sir! Sir! You can't go out there! There's the biggest wolf you've ever seen ... and ... and a dead man!" Castiel pleaded, tugging at the man's sleeve.

The man never looked toward Castiel, he simply pulled his hand off and patted Castiel's shoulder. "I know ..."

With that, the man walked out of the barn. Castiel watched, terrified. "Sir! Please!" The man did not turn nor slow his pace. Castiel sagged back against the barn's door frame. A mournful wolf's howl echoed through the woods.

"Maybe I'm dreaming ..." Castiel mused. "My eyes are open, which means maybe I'm awake ... dreaming I'm asleep ..." Castiel looked out the door again. "Or ... I'm asleep, dreaming I'm awake, wondering if I'm dreaming ..."

A soft laugh echoed across the clearing. "You are dreaming, little thief."

Castiel had had enough of strangeness. His fear grabbed hold of him and he scrambled into the loft of the barn. Here, at least, he would be safe from wolves ... strange men in cloaks? That remained to be seen. Crawling over to a gap in the loft wall, Castiel looked down and saw an amazing thing.

The tall man walked calmly towards the wolf, which made a whimpering noise. When the tall man turned to walk a different way, the wolf followed. Castiel watched as they walked out of the camp's clearing, man and wolf side-by-side. Castiel threw himself back into the hay. With one arm thrown across his eyes, he began to whisper to God.

"I have not seen what I have seen. I do not believe what I believe, Lord." Castiel gasped. "These are magical, unexplainable matters and I beg you not to make me again a part of them!"

Castiel, the one called the "Angel", fell asleep trembling with fear over what nightmare he'd stumbled into.