A/N: Woo! Writing this chapter was hard! I rewrote this stupid thing ten times, going over different scenes, dialogues, actions, blah-blah-blah. Hope ya guys enjoy!
And for those who don't watch Supernatural, a lot of references here ya might not get. R/R, peeps.
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Overall, it was a very nice room. It looked fairly brand new and it came with all the furnishings a weary traveler could ask for: a large spacious bed, a well stocked kitchen, a clean refresher, and even a holo-set so Obi-Wan may watch the news.
He ignored all these luxuries the moment he saw them. Instead, he scoured over every inch of the room, trying to find a weak spot to exploit. He found none, though that didn't stop him. He kicked the wall over and over again, hoping to tear through. He made a decent sized dent and made the mistake of blinking. One second there was a hole, the next it was gone.
"You should eat something."
Obi-Wan glared at Castiel. "There's a lot of things I should be doing."
Castiel sighed like this was frustrating for him. "I am sorry for doing this to you, but it is necessary to keep you safe."
"Safe?" Obi-Wan repeated. "This is not safe, Cas. This is imprisonment. I should be with Qui-Gon."
"Qui-Gon cannot protect you. At this moment, every demon in the universe knows your name, knows your face. And their top priority is to find you and kill you."
"So you keep telling me," Obi-Wan drawled. He'd not had a vision since Castiel placed his fingers upon his forehead. Obi-Wan was grateful for this, but once those fingers pulled away, he was no longer with his Master. He found himself stuck in this room, guarded by something with a personality of a rock. "Are you ever going to explain or should I keep guessing?"
Castiel looked away then, guilty. Always guilty. "I do not know why this is happening. Why here, why now. And until I do, the safest place is here."
"And what about Qui-Gon?" Obi-Wan demanded. "And Shoures? What about the Temple? They have a right to know what is going on. And if these demons are coming after me, as you say, that means they're going after the Jedi too. Who is going to protect them?"
Castiel does not answer because he is no longer standing in front of Obi-Wan.
The young Jedi ran a frustrating hand through his hair, resisting the urge to curse.
()
There's not much he can do. Beyond sleeping and watching pointless holo-vids, Obi-Wan spent most of his time exercising and meditating. He tried numerous times to reach out to Qui-Gon through the Padawan-Master bond, but something about this room blocked all signals.
When Castiel came back a few hours later, Obi-Wan ignored him.
The man said nothing as he tossed a small brown book into Obi-Wan's lap. "It is not the original, of course," Castiel said. "But it took me a while to even find this version. Be careful with it, it's very old."
Obi-Wan turned the book over.
The Winchester Gospel.
"What is this?" He asked. Castiel wasn't kidding about the old part. Pages were missing, the ink was either smeared or too faded to read, and the pages crackled like dry leaves.
"Your history. My history. Hopefully this'll work better than the random memories you've been getting."
"Your history?" Obi-Wan said skeptically. "This book looks like it's hundreds of years old."
"Thousands. A little over ten thousand, really."
"So you're telling me your family history goes back over ten thousand years?" It's not that hard to believe, but only those of royal family bother to keep track of such things. Most families lose track of their descendants by the tenth generation- only a little over three hundred years. Ten thousand was pushing it.
Castiel shook his head. "Not my family. Me. Read the book, Obi-Wan." Then he disappeared.
Obi-Wan tried his hardest to think of a species that had the ability to teleport and failed. Even if Castiel was a hybrid, he was too much of a humanoid to share any type of alien ability.
Obi-Wan looked down at the book in his hands. He sighed. Might as well.
()
The Gospel was a jumbled mess. Only maybe one or two paragraphs were readable on each page. Sometimes only a word or a letter was legible.
-brothers, and they-
-crossroads. He stood and waited, desperate and delirious with grieve-
"Thou shall live," he said. "Thou shall keep fighting. My soul for yours."
-fifty years. He was torn and raped and mutilated and by the fall of the blood-filled moon, was whole again-
-burned onto his skin, to bear for the rest of his life, a-
It all became very tiring, very fast. Only one or two names popped up- Bobby and Pamela- but no mention of Winchester or of Castiel. Nothing made sense and Obi-Wan had to wonder why Castiel even bothered giving this to him.
"I am the one who gripped you tight and pulled you from Perdition."
A headache was coming on. He hadn't eaten in quite a while, and thought about taking a break. Obi-Wan flipped through the last pages, idly skimming over text. Broken sentences, faded paragraphs were all staring out at him. Only one word caught his attention.
Sam.
Obi-Wan stared. It was unlike Castiel's name; nothing came to Obi-Wan. Not a face or a nickname. Nothing felt familiar as he quietly repeated the name over and over.
He blinked in surprise when a drop of water fell on the yellowed page. Obi-Wan touched his cheeks. He was crying.
He began flipping through the last of the pages, trying to find that name again.
"If there's anything worth dying for, this is it."
-and with a slash, Gabriel was defeated. An archangel, one of the Four, was dead-
"And one day, I'll reap Him too."
Nothing was coming up, nothing was making any more sense. The name Sam did not appear again until the very last page, nearly the very last paragraph.
"Yes," said the Righteous man. "Yes."
So Michael took upon his sword, as he was always meant to do. It will end as it began. His might was swift, his arm was strong….
… Sam had fought to change his destiny, though he knew it cannot be changed…
…the ground shook and the seas boiled. The battle raged for seven years until Michael struck down his brother, ripped his Grace out of his vessel's soul…
-peace-
-harmony-
Paradise.
Nothing else was written. The very last page, the very last word was simply paradise. What did that mean?
"Sam," Obi-Wan murmured, allowing the name to bleed over his tongue. "Sam. Sammy. Sam…" he then choked. "Oh Force. I killed him…"