Title: Reader's Special: Second Edition - One Shot Reward Fic Collection
Author: Disasteriffic Kaz
Info: A collection of 1 Shot Reward Fics for Prompters of my Reader's Special: Third Edition. Features many seasons, hurt/limp/awesome/caring!Sam/Dean/John/Bobby See each chapter for specific info for each 1 shot reward fic.
Author's Note: The Reader's Special: Third Edition was a smashing success! Prompters of the story were offered a One Shot Reward story of their choice. These are they. None of the chapters contained in this collection are connected. Each one is a stand-alone one shot per the Prompters request. Thank you to all of you who prompted the Reader's Special! You were fantastic as always!
Chapter Info: For N008137 – Season 5, Team Free Will - Someone/something has set their sights on the unsuspecting brothers. Cas takes matters into his own hands.
A/N: I'll set this one post 5x13 "The song remains the same", after the birth of Team Free Will. :D Good place for it. Now for a little mayhem and some general angelic bad-assery!
Also…it's quite possible part of this became a kind of 'Study in Cas'. LOL Didn't plan on it but my Muse wanted to investigate…so we did.
Do please Review once you've read. :D Every comment and vote of support helps keep me writing. Not to mention if I've pooched anything, someone can always tell me. :P
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Castiel sat uneasily on the side of the motel room bed. Travelling back and forth in time had expended so much of his precious energy he felt…weak. He was uncomfortable with the feeling. He had seen his own blood and, on his trip forward through time, was convinced he had, just for a moment, tasted the terror of mortality before he had appeared in the motel room and Sam and Dean had caught him as he fell. He looked up as the bathroom door opened and Sam walked out, dressed and toweling his hair.
"Good morning, Sam," Castiel said in his low voice, noting to himself that it was more gravelly than normal with…exhaustion?
"Cas! You're awake!" Sam smiled broadly and knelt beside him, looking up. "How do you…you know, do you feel alright?" He frowned, studying the angel's face and realized he actually looked tired.
"I am…fine." Castiel replied, using the oft-uttered phrase both Winchesters used whether they were actually fine or not. He began to see the merits of it in diverting unwanted attention from one's self.
"Ok." Sam nodded, although not seeming entirely convinced. There wasn't much he could say to an angel even if he thought he was lying. Sam stood and gasped softly, wrapping both arms around his stomach as he doubled over.
"Sam?" Castiel stood and took his shoulder. He instinctively sought to send his power into Sam and find the cause of his pain and heal it and scowled in irritation when it failed him and left him momentarily dizzy. "What is wrong?" he asked instead.
Sam shook his head, robbed of speech just then by the memory of the feeling of a length of pipe stabbing into his stomach and up into his chest. It took him to his knees.
"Sam." Castiel tried to keep him on his feet and settled for not letting him topple forward into the floor. He pushed the young Hunter upright and frowned as he pulled Sam's shirt up, having to knock his hands away to do so. There was no sign of injury save an odd, round red mark high on his abdomen. "What has happened?"
Sam fought to get his breath back and speak. He opened his mouth and then looked up gratefully when the room door opened and his brother came in with a bag of food. "Dean." It was soft and hoarse and barely audible but it was enough.
"Sammy?" Dean dropped the food on the table and dropped on his other side. "Cas, what the hell's going on?"
"It appears to be his stomach, but…he is not injured." Castiel shook his head. "I do not understand."
"Dammit," Dean cursed and laid a hand over the center of his brother's back. "I do. Sam?"
Sam raised his head and felt his brother's hand, knowing exactly what he was thinking with that touch and he nodded.
"Ok. Let's get him up." Dean took one arm and Castiel the other and together they raised Sam and got him on the bed. "It's like…like when he died, Cas. The demon didn't completely heal the wound in his back." He still had his hand over the spot and mercilessly crushed the full-body shudder that tried to escape. Last night had been the second time he'd watched his brother murdered in front of him and been powerless. "He still has the scar. It hurt him like a son of a bitch for days."
"He bears an odd mark on his abdomen." Castiel confirmed and frowned. "What happened?"
"Anna." Sam managed and rested his arms on his legs as he waited for the pain to pass. "She…killed me."
"Gutted him with a damn pipe," Dean clarified on an angry growl. "And Michael healed him and sent us back and apparently did the same piss poor job of it the demon did. Breathe, buddy. Come on." Sam's labored breaths were wearing on his nerves, and, at the same time, a part of him flinched, terrified they would suddenly stop. "You do anything for him?"
Castiel shook his head. "No. I am sorry. I…I tried."
"It's ok," Sam assured his brother and straightened slowly. "I'm ok. It's…easing off."
"Not for long." Dean said darkly and stood, running a hand through his hair.
Sam nodded. He remembered how it had gone before. He'd been weak for days, and the pain had come and gone as if toying with him. What he had been the whole time…was hungry, like his body had to replenish after being brought back from death and he felt it now. "Starving."
"Yeah, that's the same. That, at least, I can do something about." Dean went to the table and grabbed the bag of food. Sam's hunger gave him a small measure of reassurance as he'd pretty much inhaled everything Dean had in the cabin at the time. "Here." He handed it to his brother. "Burgers. I'll go get something else. Cas."
Castiel followed Dean to the door and outside. "What do you need me to do, Dean?" He knew there were things he should be doing, leads he could be following, and yet…knowing one of his own brothers was responsible for the pain Sam was in, he felt an obligation to stay and help.
Dean looked in the door at his brother, hunched over himself again and had yet to eat anything and then to the angel. "Cas, I need to get some things but…"
"You do not wish to leave him. I understand." Castiel nodded firmly. "Give me a list. I will get what you need."
"Dude." Dean raised a brow at him. "You're gonna go to a store and…buy stuff?"
Castiel straightened and squared his shoulders. "I am an angel of the Lord. I can…shop."
Dean snorted, amused in spite of the concern for Sam and shrugged. "Ok, but you're walkin'. There's a store down the street." He waved in the direction. "No offense, but I'm not handin' the keys to my baby to a guy who's more comfortable with a set of wheels with a horse in front of 'em." He chuckled and stepped past the angel to the room. He took a piece of the motel paper and scrawled out a quick list.
Castiel left them with Dean sitting beside his little brother, hand once more hovering over that not-old-enough scar on his back as he urged him to eat something. He closed the door and started down the long line of rooms with his list in one hand and the cash Dean had given him in the other. Part of him said to go back to the room and get back to his search. It was so much more important…it was everything, and still he found himself walking down the road, raincoat flapping in the stiff wind that had picked up.
He felt the corner of one side of his mouth twitch up in amusement that he, an angel of the Lord, was about to go shopping like any mortal. These were strange times, indeed. Castiel strode through the automatic doors of the store and spent a moment just looking out over the numerous aisles confronting him.
"Oh, honey. You look lost." A woman laughed softly and touched his arm. "Can I point you in the right direction?"
Castiel turned and looked at the elderly woman smiling up at him under a beehive of silver hair and nodded. He held out his list. "I am looking for these."
She leaned over and peered at his list. "Well, most of what you want is in the pharmacy." She pointed to the back corner of the store and patted his arm again. "If you need help back there just give me a shout."
"Thank you." Castiel headed down the nearest aisle.
"Oh, here, dear." She followed after him and pushed a small basket into his hands. "You'll need this."
"I…thank you." Castiel took it and studied the contraption for a moment before holding it awkwardly by the handle and continuing down the aisle. His mind went back to Sam and wondered why Michael had not simply healed him completely. He frowned…because Michael wanted him to suffer, of course. No doubt, he was attempting to teach Dean a lesson. Castiel snorted softly as he turned into the pharmacy aisles. The archangel would, at some point, have a very rude awakening about how Dean reacted to his brother being used against him.
"You think this is enough to knock 'em out? They're big guys."
Castiel stopped and cocked his head at hearing the harshly whispered comment from one of the aisles nearby. Warning bells went off in his mind though he didn't know why.
"Hell, Joe. That's enough to kill a moose, oughta be enough for the Winchesters."
Castiel froze at the sound of the malicious chuckle that followed that statement and the first warm burn of anger worked its way into him. He was an angel of the Lord and emotions, generally, weren't something he had much use for. But righteous anger…that was something every warrior of God understood. It was like a comfortable old suit, and he pulled it around him as he set the basket down and stalked silently to the end of the aisle and around, looking for the two potential dead men he had overheard. To his consternation, the aisle was empty as was each aisle he looked down. He heard a bell ring at the front of the store and marched there quickly.
"Were there two men here just now?" Castiel asked the old woman who had greeted him.
"Just left." She smiled fondly at him. "Where did your basket go?"
Castiel ignored her and went quickly outside. He saw the bumper of a large truck vanish around the side of the building and growled. He decided he would be staying a while longer.
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Dean looked up and gave a relieved smile when Castiel came in. The angel held up his bag for him and looked around the room with a frown. "Where is Sam?"
Dean hooked a thumb over his shoulder at the bathroom. "Puking." His voice was tight with tension. "I know he's fine, but it doesn't make this any easier."
Castiel went to the door and with a complete lack of the understanding of social conventions, opened the door and went in to kneel beside the younger Winchester. He frowned harder at seeing the clear signs of blood in the bowl before Sam reached a hand up and flushed.
"Cas," Sam's voice was hoarse and he sat back wearily. "Knock first, man."
Castiel reached out and rapped his knuckles twice on the wall before curving a hand around the side of Sam's head.
Sam snorted softly and closed his eyes. "Not what I meant." He tried to push the angel's hand away but Castiel simply pushed his hand aside.
"Stop." Castiel closed his own eyes and tried to focus. He had some small measure of power back now; enough to be able to check his injury, if little else.
"Cas, what…" Dean stopped in the bathroom door. "Sammy?"
"He will be fine." Castiel dropped his hand and stood. "The remaining damage is minimal." He had been able to see it in his mind like a shadow of the injury that had torn in and up into Sam's chest. He stepped aside and let Dean go to his brother. Castiel went back out into the room and twitched the curtains over the windows closed with a quick glance around the parking lot for the truck he had seen. He watched Dean shove Sam towards the far bed, seeing the roll of Sam's eyes and the glare from his big brother that clearly said 'stay' and the answering, weary nod as Sam rolled onto the bed and curled around his stomach with a groan.
Dean went to the table and opened the bag the angel had brought. "What exactly does 'minimal' mean?" Dean asked softly.
Castiel glanced over at Sam. "Minimal. Not life threatening." He looked up and met Dean's fierce gaze. "He will heal…as he did before."
Dean shook himself loose of the image of Sam dead…again, and nodded. "Alright. Cas…thanks for this."
Castiel nodded in return and, watching the concern in Dean's face as he went to his brother, decided they did not need the added fear of whatever those two men in the store were planning. They would have to go through him to get to the brothers. "I will return." He didn't wait to hear Dean's words before he flitted out of the room and to the roof of the motel. Castiel did it on purpose, vanishing the way he did because some small part of him enjoyed discomfiting the eldest Winchester. It amused him, he supposed, to see the man so in control of everything else to be left staring gape-mouthed for a moment in the absence of his presence. Castiel smirked. This is what family should feel like, he knew. He had observed Sam and Dean and Bobby enough to understand that.
He looked down on the parking lot, safe in the knowledge that no mortal could see him just then. Castiel walked along the roof with his coat flapping around his legs in the wind and considered. They were human, the men in the store. He was sure of that much. He would have felt otherwise. Human meant stopping them shouldn't pose any serious threat to him. He found a spot where he could see their room and settled in to wait.
It was nearing two in the morning when they arrived. Castiel stirred from his silent vigil and stepped along the rooftop, following the truck as it rounded the motel parking lot and headed to the back. He had checked periodically on Sam and Dean, entering invisibly for brief checks that Sam was well, at least as well as could be expected, before resuming his vigil. The rage he had felt in the store swelled in him as he watched the two men park and emerge from the truck all dressed in black and each carrying a bag.
Castiel snarled softly when he saw the glint of blades in each of their hands and dropped from the roof to the ground beside them. He gave a feral smile as neither man reacted to his presence. He had thought carefully of how to handle them. Once, he would simply have touched them and erased their minds, a fitting fate for two souls as black as theirs, and he could see the stain on them like an aura hanging around their shoulders. He didn't have the energy to spare for that. Castiel watched them near the small window that led into the Winchester's motel room. He popped into being behind them, enjoying the twin startled gasps before he grasped both their shoulders in a vice-like grip and 'moved' them.
They appeared inside the darkened store where Castiel had first heard them. The angel staggered briefly with the expenditure of power while both men sprawled to the carpeted floor, disoriented. He straightened and shrugged off the momentary weakness while the men rose unsteadily to their feet and stared at him.
"What the fuck are you?" The taller of the two men asked angrily.
"I am an angel of the Lord and you will not harm the Winchesters." Castiel glared down and took a step toward them.
"Angel of the Lord, my ass." The shorter man rolled his eyes and drew a gun, leveling it at Castiel's head. "No such thing." He gasped as Castiel was suddenly in his personal space and cried out when his arm was twisted. There was a sharp snap and the gun fell from his nerveless fingers as he went to the floor.
"Bastard!" The taller man shouted and swiped at the angel with his knife.
Castiel easily evaded the blow. Angelic powers or not, he was still a warrior and had been for more millennia than this pathetic mortal could even begin to contemplate. He spun behind him and kicked out his legs, wrapped a hand painfully in the back of his greasy hair and took hold of his knife hand. "Why are you after the Winchesters?"
"SCREW you!" The man yelled and cursed as Castiel bent his wrist back until the knife fell.
"I don't think I would enjoy that." Castiel pulled him around and slammed his head into one of the displays at the end of an aisle and let him topple to the side, unconscious. He turned to the second man who scrambled back from him with fear on his face. "Why the Winchesters? I won't ask again."
The man stared up at him and nodded. "Uh…they…Joe said they…started the apocalypse. We were gonna…" He swallowed hard as the tall, dark man stopped at his feet to glare down at him. "Joe figured someone had to…make 'em pay."
Castiel reached down and fisted a hand in the front of the man's shirt, pulling him up until his feet dangled above the floor and his hands wrapped around the angel's arm, trying to find some purchase. "The Winchesters are under my protection. You will not harm them." Castiel gave him a shake, resisting the urge to snap his neck. Instead, he threw him effortlessly and smiled a small smile when he crashed into a shelf and slid to the floor, unmoving and alive.
He walked to the front of the store, brushing his raincoat straight and forced the doors open. The alarm sounded and he walked away toward the motel. Castiel still considered killing them and removing any threat they posed permanently but knew that neither Sam nor Dean would agree with him. Killing humans was not something either man did easily.
Castiel reached the motel and sighed, no longer having the energy to do anything but knock on the door like a mortal. He knocked once, softly, and, as he expected, the door opened a moment later. "Hello, Dean."
Dean smirked as opened the door and let the angel in. "Knocking on the door like a normal person. You're learning." He closed the door. "Don't worry. Sam's up." He nodded to the closed bathroom door and rubbed a hand tiredly over his face.
"He is…puking, again?" Castiel asked and Dean nodded. "It will pass."
"I know." Dean went to the little refrigerator and took out one of the bottles of Gatorade he'd had the angel get earlier. "Just not gonna get any sleep 'til it does."
"Dean." Castiel went to him and took the bottle from his hand. "Sleep. I'll sit with him."
"Cas?" Dean stared in surprise. "Dude, I got this."
"If you're exhausted, you can't adequately protect yourself or Sam. You need sleep." Castiel went to the bathroom door. "I do not." He opened the door then stopped and banged his knuckles twice as an afterthought before going inside and pushing it closed on Dean's bemused expression.
"Huh." Dean looked at the door for a moment, hearing Sam's protest quickly put down by Castiel's soft voice and shrugged. He went to his bed and dropped onto it, rolling into his pillow and was almost instantly asleep.
Castiel sat on the edge of the tub beside Sam and didn't argue when the younger Winchester leaned back from the toilet after another round of vomiting and thumped back into his legs; weary beyond words. The angel held the bottle of Gatorade over Sam's shoulder and let him take it in shaking hands.
"Cas." Sam's voice was rough and he coughed to clear it. "Thanks. You can go…if you need to."
Castiel pulled a small towel off the rack above the toilet and handed it to him so he could clean his face. "I have time." He could hear Dean snoring softly in the other room and would not violate the trust Dean had put in him by leaving. He had left Castiel to watch over Sam and that was not something he did lightly. A small measure of his power had returned, and he felt Sam gearing up for an argument that he was fine and the angel could leave. Castiel opted to save him the energy and pressed two fingers lightly to Sam's temple. He went lax against the angel's legs, head rolling to the side in sleep, and Castiel rescued the bottle of Gatorade before it could fall.
"Sleep, Sam." Castiel said softly. He heard the sound of sirens muffled through the walls and smiled. He wondered briefly what the two men would tell the police when they were found inside the store - beaten unconscious by an angel of the Lord would likely not be high on the list.
Castiel set the bottle aside and pushed Sam gently forward, easing out from behind him. He bent and scooped the over-tall man up into his arms with ease, grateful he would not wake. He didn't imagine Sam would enjoy being carried, but the angel decided he would be more comfortable in his bed. He opened the door and went silently through the room. He laid Sam out in his bed and pulled the blanket over him before going to the table. Dean didn't stir and Castiel sat in one of the chairs to sit watch over his charges. Another only vaguely familiar emotion stirred in him as he sat quietly in the dark knowing he had somehow managed to earn the trust of these two very special souls for whom trust did not come easily – he thought it might be….contentment.
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The End.
Next Up: Doctor's Other Companion
