Anonymous Review Replies!
vampiregirl1700: Thanks, that's what I'm aiming for :)
Elspeth: Thanks! ICness is also really important to me, even more so in a crossover! :D
Asta: Hah, yeah, canon-wrangling is a bit of a private hobby of mine. XD Technically, this fic is canon-compliant with SPN up until season 6 (which I was watching when starting to write this fic...) but they've established a few things later that make GO and SPN harder to integrate, so a bit of ignoring will take place. But glad you like it anyway! :D One angelic conversation coming right up...
Chapter Eleven: "Birds" Of A Feather...
Being threatened by Aziraphale was a bit like being threatened by an armchair. Vaguely unsettling because you were at a total loss how to react.
Right now the angel was trapped in a ring of holy fire, but judging from what could be heard of the heavenly dressing-down that currently seemed to be going on, this did not pertain to his voice.
Dean looked at Sam, wide-eyed. "Is...is Cas getting chewed out in there?"
Before the Winchester brothers could even turn to the door to possibly come to their angel's aid, however, Castiel already came stumbling back in.
"I... may have made a mistsake," he said, his voice shaking a little and definitely rougher than usual. "Who you've captured isn't a traitor. He is one of God's first and oldest. Not an Archangel," he said, holding up a hand before Dean could say anything, "A Principality. You have captured Aziraphale, the Guardian of the Eastern Gate of Eden."
There was a pause.
Castiel shifted a bit.
"He, ah. Also. Sort of...raised me."
The Winchester brothers stared at him.
"This is your Dad?"
If possible, Castiel looked even more awkward now. "Not quite. We all have the same Father, of course. Aziraphale was more like my...guardian? My...foster parent?" Castiel seemed to become a bit frustrated. "There's a better word in Enochian," he said, while looking at them like he was being helpful. When both Winchesters only continued to stare blankly, he tried: "In your language he might be my...older brother?"
Aaaand the poignant silence was back along with its friends Awkward and Holy Fuck.
"Young Seraph Castiel, Angel of Temperance, Travelling and Thursday!" Aziraphale thundered at this point from the other room, "Get back in here and release us at once!"
Castiel seemed to cringe at this and shrink back in on himself a little further.
"I swear, young angel, if I find out it was you who taught those boys that trick with the burning oil-!"
Castiel made a small noise that sounded like 'oh no' and hurried back inside. Dean and Sam again exchanged two quite wide-eyed glances and then hurried after him, for some reason feeling a bit like a class mate had gotten into trouble on their behalf and they now had to face the headmaster.
"Aziraphale," Inside, Castiel was approaching the angel still trapped in the ring of burning fire and seemed to be trying to compose himself against the other's thunderous expression, "I apologize, but I am currently fighting a civil war in-"
"You young people can do anything you like in your spare time, but is that any way to treat your elders?!" the blonde angel interrupted Castiel, crossing his arms in disapproval.
Castiel seemed to now find his feet rather interesting. "No, Aziraphale."
"And what do you say when you've trapped your foster father in a ring of holy fire?!"
"Sorry, Aziraphale."
"Good." the blonde angel seemed to relax a little and his face and voice had become quite a bit softer when he spoke next. "Now why don't you put out this silly ring and we can talk about it over tea?"
The Winchesters exchanged a glance with Crowley also still sitting in his devil's trap, but the demon only respoded with a 'Don't look at me, he's the crazy angel'- expression.
Castiel turned to look at Sam and Dean. "We can put out the fire. He is indeed my...foster parent."
"Your older brother. Your parent," Sam repeated the word that sounded so strange for an angel. "Weren't you all like...created at the same time?"
Aziraphale let out a quiet laugh, sounding mildly amused when he spoke next. "Good heavens, no. Can you imagine what it would have been like in Heaven if every single angel had been a fledgling at the same time without any older ones to take care of them? Utter chaos, that's what."
"But Cas said he was really a celestial wave form...thingy," Dean said, blurting the objection out like his mouth was currently running on autopilot because the situation was just too friggin weird. Aziraphale looked at him over his glasses, a bit surprised.
"Well, of course he's a wavelength. But once upon a time he used to be a much smaller one."
It was said as if this answer was perfectly natural. Dean wondered whether it was. He still fixed the blonde angel with a thorough stare.
"So wait, how old is Castiel?" He asked, sounding a bit like he was hoping a bit of cross examination would somehow cause all this to suddenly make sense, or maybe reveal Aziraphale to be a fraud. Their own angel next to them seemed curiously to be starting to fidget now, but Dean ignored him.
Aziraphale waved a hand. "Oh, barely two millennia."
"Oh dear," Crowley whistled, for the first time actually contributing to the conversation. "A New Testament brat, is he? Right in his terrible two thousands."
"You have no right to talk to me that way, spawn of the pit!" Castiel whirled at Crowley now, apparently relieved to finally have someone to direct his annoyance at. Then, obviously feeling that the previous insult hadn't had the right verve, he also added: "Assbutt."
Wide yellow eyes blinked for a moment. That lasted for all of two seconds. Then:
"Excusse me, Thursday?! I am one of the first! I fell with the Morning Star! I invented original sin!"
There was an intake of breath from Sam. Something had just clicked. Of course there were more pressing concerns, but on the other hand, details were now falling into place, the eyes, the hissing, the...bendabilty -
"Wait, you? You're the Serpent? The snake from Eden?" the younger Winchester blurted out.
"The very sssame," Crowley replied not without pride, and made it seem just purely coincidental when a dark, forked tongue flicked over his lips.
"And that means...you're younger than both of them?" Dean asked, turning again to Castiel, who now actually appeared slightly desperate.
"Please, Dean, why is it that so interesting to you?" he asked, looking like he really wanted to be elsewhere now.
"I'm sorry," Dean grinned unabashedly, "I just find it funny that to them you basically are a baby in a trenchcoat."
"Yes, I dare say so," Aziraphale replied, now actually looking a bit like he was reminiscencing fondly. "I remember, there was a time when he was barely tall enough to reach my knees. I usually had to save him from the celestial chickens always trying to peck at him..."
The Winchesters, once again, stared.
Castiel, in a voice even more strained than usual, managed something that sounded like
"Aziraphalepleasedon'ttellDeanaboutthechickens,"
and both brothers actually felt a rare pang of sympathy for the angel.
Crowley, however, seemed to have no such feelings. The demon, now that a shower of holy water didn't seem to be on the agenda any more, had considerably cheered up and cocked his head. "What are you doing to the voicebox of that vessel by the way?" he asked, "You sound like a tax accountant trying to be Batman."
This seemed to be crossing some kind of line, however, because now suddenly Dean was in front of the smaller Castiel again, glowering down at Crowley and crossing his arms in an almost protective stance."Look, will you stop pissing off the nerd angel?! You're acting quite tough for some little snake who's basically still powerless and bent over the table in our devil's trap."
Crowley hissed and yellow eyes narrowed dangerously. "Careful. It's been a while ssince ssomenone trapped me. Want to know what happened to the last human who tried? And besides", he added with an almost huff and a side glance at Aziraphale. "I'm not bent over anyone's table unless I want to be."
Sam raised an eyebrow, Castiel looked confused, Dean had the stoic look of a man carefully ignoring certain things he didn't want to know, and Aziraphale, blushing just slightly, cleared his throat a bit louder than necessary.
"Now, then, if we're quite finished with everything, how about we get on with it?"
"Like letting you out of there, you mean," Sam said carefully and both hunters almost simultaneously looked over at their own, non-trapped angel, silently asking for his opinion of the matter. Castiel gave a curt, hard nod.
"Yes," Castiel said, quietly, as he looked at them. "Aziraphale...hasn't been involved in the recent power struggles. He is neutral. I can vouch for him."
"Yeah, probably because he'd take away your TV privileges if you didn't," muttered Dean, but thankfully earned himself only a snort from his brother and a frown from the angel. He stepped forward with a bottle of holy water, intent on pouring it over the flames to finally free the strange book shop-owning angel, but Sam grabbed his arm at the last moment.
"Wait," he said, looking at Aziraphale. "You still haven't explained to us what's with that deal you struck with him." He nodded at Crowley. "If you're not a traitor to Heaven, then..."
Now Aziraphale actually had the grace to look a bit embarrassed.
"Look, Crowley is not a traitor, either. We just...sometimes...share some workload."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"We're immortals, kid," Crowley cut in. "We've been around some time. And sometimes, an enemy you've been fighting against for 6000 years might not technically be an enemy anymore but..."
But then even he trailed off, apparently also not quite able to put whatever arrangement the two had into words.
"He speaks the truth," Castiel said. He had carefully reached out over the flames and laid a hand against Aziraphale's face, and the blonde angel had not resisted his touch, only closed his eyes and even, for one brief moment almost leaned into it. Both angels then turned to look at them again, and there seemed to be a calm about them now, that made Dean wonder whether there was something that angels might be missing when they were on Earth, without their family. Castiel drew his hand back. "His grace is untainted. The bond between these two is not of a corrupt nature."
"An angel who didn't strike a deal with a demon but befriended one," Dean muttered. "Or is protentially banging him. I think I need a drink after this."
"But then what's actually going on?" Sam asked, finally. "If he wasn't lying when he said he wasn't trying to kill us, then what's with the hell hounds, and the plants, and the random café possessions?"
"I think," Aziraphale said thoughtfully, "That the demon Hastur and another one named Alastair are hunting Crowley. Crowley did something a while back that didn't exactly leave him on Hastur's good side. You two may just have gotten caught in the crossfire."
"More like 'voluntarily ran into the crossfire and then started shooting at both sides'" muttered Crowley under his breath.
"Okay. We did recognize Alastair, that's true. But why is he even in this?" Dean asked. "You piss him off, too?" The way this question was asked, Crowley suspected he could be earning Brownie points if he answered in the affirmative now.
"No," he said. "Why? Do you know him?"
"A bit too well," replied Dean, in a tone that declared this topic not only closed, but also buried and dropped into a medium-sized abyss. "Anyway, if he's here, no way it's him and both of us walking out of this alive."
Snake eyes became just the tiniest bit calculating at this information – not surprising, since the Winchesters basically just had offered to gank the demon that had him strung up to a torture rack just half an hour ago. "So, what do you suggest?" Crowley asked
"I don't know, how about we leave you in the devil's trap for them to find and strike when that Hastur freak is distracted by disemboweling you?" Dean asked somewhat peevishly, not liking the same attitude this Crowley seemed to exhibit in the exact same manner like their Crowley, which was trying to strike a goddamn deal even when he shouldn't be having any leverage at all.
"Hasstur is a Duke of hell," Crowley replied flatly, "The two of you and your trenchcoated spring chick take him on with a plan like that, getting dragged to hell will be almost worth seeing what he's going to do to you."
"In that case, what do you suggest, slow-worm? Hide in a terrarium?" Castiel asked a bit testily, apparently not appreciating being called a spring chick very much.
"Look, your current strategy amounts to hoping Hastur will drown if you are bleeding enough," Crowley replied with a slightly desperate hand gesture. "So instead, how about you get us out of here and then we might be able to think of something that doesn't mean we all die horribly before this day ends."
"Well...alright, then," Sam took a breath, and, after a quick glance between the brothers, Dean nodded as well. To be fair, this Crowley so far hadn't done anything more heinous than to leave the British gastronomy four pounds short for change, and the Winchesters already had struck deals with demons who had done...just a few things slightly worse than that.
Castiel also nodded. "I will leave, then," he said, turning around to walk a few steps away, but the Winchesters followed him instantly.
"Wait, Cas, you're leaving us alone with them?!" Dean hissed.
"I have to. Raphael is already rallying his troops again. But you can trust Aziraphale," Castiel said, sounding sincere. "Technically, it's not official but..." Cas dropped his voice even lower, not looking at them. "Two decades ago, he is said to have been involved in a previous aborted Apocalypse. He helped stop it. He...liked humanity too much," Castiel said, and one of his very rare smiles seemed to be tugging at the edge of his mouth as he said it. "A failing I fear I might understand a bit too well now."
Dean's face softened somewhat at the sentiment, but Sam seemed to have picked up on something else.
"Wait, what? There was an apocalypse already and somebody had stopped it back then before? You couldn't have told us that sooner?!"
"That time it was...very different," Castiel looked a bit pained. "And Aziraphale, well, he's...a bit...out of the loop. Nobody is supposed to talk about him, either." He frowned. "Like the Pizza man." Castiel looked vaguely hopeful that explanation would make sense.
When it didn't, he continued:
"Aziraphale disobeyed back then. I confess I have sometimes wondered during the last two years whether he might have discovered free will like I did." Even though he didn't have you, seemed to be the unspoken words in the angel's gaze as he looked at Dean and his brother.
"Well, considering he's your foster father..." Dean snorted. "Sounds like rebellion runs in the family. And family don't end with blood," he said and was pleased to see this draw forth another almost-smile from their angel.
Castiel looked to the side again. "Aziraphale was then cut off from the command chain, I recall. He was told to continue to stay here on Earth as a field agent, like he had most of the previous millennia. I'm not sure he does know that Heaven doesn't concern itself with him much anymore," Castiel said, looking over at the two figures in their respective circles as he said it. Crowley was fidgeting in his, ineffectively scratching at the red paint, while the angel appeared to be trying to make him stop, saying it was disrespectful to destroy other people's devil traps, and Sam had worked so hard at it, too. Neither of them looked like they were even paying attention to Team Free Will 2.0 anymore.
"But I don't think he cares, either. He seems happy here," Castiel finally said, and there was definitely some fondness in his tone and perhaps a bit of...wistfulness? Looking away, he added: "Also, after the apocalypse was averted here the last time, nowadays both sides try to just stay away from Britain in general."
"Yeah, I can see why," Dean replied dryly.
"Balthazar used to say that if we do try anything here, a particular crazy person in a box would show up everytime, anyway," Castiel said, looking confused again. "And he said the last time the demon Abaddon showed up here, she was defeated by some sort of Captain. I'm not sure what he meant by that. There weren't any boats anywhere."
"Did it have something to do with aliens?" Sam asked curiously, but Castiel had already turned to the other angel one last time, apparently to say goodbye.
"I need to go back to Heaven, Aziraphale," Castiel addressed the older angel. "There are many things I have to attend to. But it was good to see you again. Please take care of Sam and Dean."
Aziraphale nodded and smiled at Castiel behind his glasses. "I will. I know I never took to fighting in the garrisons quite as well as you did, but I'll make sure nothing happens to them when Hastur comes."
"Thank you." Castiel's voice sounded just the slightest bit rougher than usual. "I'll take my leave." he turned around, apparently just about to do his disappearing thing right before...
Aziraphale cleared his throat. "Oh, and Castiel? Before you go?"
The angel of Thursday turned back to Aziraphale. The former expression of fondness now seemed to have been replaced by a more familar one of slight dread.
"...yes?"
"Don't say 'assbutt' again." Aziraphale made a slight grimace. "It's crude."
"Yes, Aziraphale," Castiel replied with just a trace of utter defeat in his voice and made to turn again, but then stopped himself mid-stride.
"No. Wait."
He looked back at the other angel again.
"Actually, I think I will say it again. I like that word."
And then he vanished.
Aziraphale seemed to gape for a moment. "Well, I never-!" he started, but by then, both Crowley and the Winchesters were laughing just a bit too much for him to finish that sentence.
The demon grinned at him. "Well, that's humanity for ya. Your little chick has grown a backbone!"
To be continued...