maychorian (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
maychorian) wrote2008-12-02 05:37 pm
maychorian) wrote2008-12-02 05:37 pm
Entry tags:
Entertaining Angels (8/?)
Fandom: Supernatural
Title: Entertaining Angels
Author: Maychorian
Characters: Dean, Sam, Castiel
Category: Gen, Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Rating: K+/PG
Spoilers: Through 4.10
Summary: A strange boy shows up at Dean and Sam’s motel room. Maybe he needs help, or maybe he’s there to help them—they can’t quite tell.
Word Count: 1654
Disclaimer: Angels belong to God. The Winchesters belong to Kripke. It’s a sad, sad world we live in.
Author’s Note: In case you were wondering, I kinda like Ruby. But I hope this works for the haters out there, too.
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7
8
As soon as he saw the corner of that beautiful, gleaming black hood roll up in front of the store, Dean hurried out the door in a clatter of bells and headed for the Impala. He still carried Castiel propped on his right hip, plastic bag full of clothes in the opposite hand. Sam was already jogging around the car to meet them, eyes wide and hands spread, looking a little out of breath. Dean halted, confused.
Before he could ask what was going on, Sam was already talking, words tumbling out of his mouth in a hasty assault. “Dean, I promise, I didn’t tell her anything. I didn’t say a word.”
Dean leaned back a bit, reflexively tightening his arm around the boy. “Didn’t tell who what?”
Sam pressed his lips together and tilted his head back behind the Impala. Dean flicked his eyes over…and saw Ruby, standing next to the driver’s side door of a rental sedan parked right behind Dean’s baby. He felt his eyes narrow almost involuntarily, taking her in.
“She followed me. I was going to go in the clothes shop and tell you to just hang out for awhile until I could get rid of her, but you came out too fast. I’m sorry, Dean.”
Dean shook his head minutely, his gaze locked on Ruby’s. Every muscle in his body had gone taut, vibrating with adrenaline and unease. Yeah, he had been coming to appreciate the help she could offer, and he owed her for saving Sam’s life while he was down under. He had even begun to see her as a sort of ally—the kind you kept in front of you so you could avoid a knife in the back. But that was when it was just him and Sam. The situation was a little different now.
Castiel could feel the tension in him, and he squirmed against Dean’s arm, stiff around his slender waist, one shoe kicking painlessly at Dean’s thigh. Dean held him tighter and continued to stare.
Ruby slid easily around her car, eyes trained on the boy. Her expression seemed neutral, but Dean didn’t trust it. She had no more reason to like angels than Pamela Barnes did, and she was a lot more dangerous than a cheerfully horny psychic.
“This is who you wanted that hex bag for?” Ruby asked, gaze flicking briefly to Sam before returning to the boy. “This is who you’re so eager to protect?”
None of them said anything—the answer was obvious. Sam turned to face her, shoulder to shoulder with Dean, Castiel held between them. The child had gone still and silent, staring back at the demon.
Ruby stepped up on the sidewalk, now standing only a few feet away. “A kid, Sam? Really? Who is he?”
“Just our little cousin,” Dean said easily. “Came into our care recently, you know, the whole tragic circumstances thing. We’re fond of the little guy—don’t want anyone messing with him. So yeah, we wanted one of your super-duper mojo bags. Is it so surprising that we would want to do everything possible to take care of a little kid who got stuck with us? Really, Ruby, what kind of monsters do you think we are?”
Her lips went thin, forehead wrinkling, and she took another step closer, staring even harder. Dean scowled and swiveled on his heel, putting Castiel partly behind Sam’s shoulder and arm. Sam smoothly took half a step closer, hiding the boy more effectively.
Ruby stopped moving and held up her hands. “Hey, c’mon. I could ask you the same question, here. I’ve never screwed you over, and I’m not going to start with a kid. I’m just not quite buying your bullshit story, that’s all. You know it stinks from a mile away, right?”
Cas wriggled in Dean’s hold, and he looked over in time to see the kid tilt his head almost all the way over, peeking around Sam to continue looking at Ruby, one small hand fisted in Sam’s jacket sleeve. Just his usual unquenchable curiosity, or did he recognize the demon girl? Castiel’s face showed no distress, just that little crease of interest between his wide blue eyes.
Dean almost snorted a laugh when Ruby mirrored him, tilting her head to look into the kid’s eyes, long dark hair sliding over her shoulder with the movement. He had to admit, though, that there was nothing threatening in her posture. Just the same kind of curiosity and interest, though there was certainly nothing innocent and naïve about this woman.
Then two things happened almost simultaneously. Ruby started and jerked back a step, stumbling over her own feet, eyes flipping to dead black in what appeared to be an entirely reflexive reaction to something. The instant the black appeared, Castiel’s hands flew out and grabbed Dean’s bicep, digging deep and gripping tight, and he hid his face against the back of Sam’s shoulder, suddenly shaking uncontrollably.
An almost-instinctive growl ripped out of Dean’s throat, and he dropped the shopping bag and brought his arm around to wrap around Castiel’s back, stepping closer to Sam so the kid could leave his face pressed where it was while Dean held him tight. Dean could feel the tension in his brother ratchet up about five hundred notches, his stance toward Ruby suddenly even more aggressive than it had been. Sam held himself still, though, for the boy’s sake.
“What was that?” Sam demanded. “Ruby? What just happened?”
Ruby leaned back against her rented car on both elbows, breathing ragged and quick. Her eyes were wide, but they looked human again, dark brown instead of black. “Sorry,” she breathed. “Just…wasn’t expecting that. I know who he is, now. I get why you want to protect him so bad.”
Dean’s lip curled in a snarl, but he kept quiet, too busy rubbing Cas’s back, trying to help him calm down. Sam shook his head, shaggy hair bouncing. “What makes you so sure?”
“It’s the eyes,” she said shortly, then leveled a disapproving look at him. “Windows of the soul, they say. And those are some damn unforgettable windows. How did you figure it out?”
Dean had to shrug, reluctantly giving her that one. It wasn’t as if the boy was going around announcing, “I am Castiel, angel of the Lord,” anymore.
He bent closer to the kid, letting his nose touch the trembling temple. “Hey, bud,” he murmured. “You okay? Another memory, like a nightmare?” A flashback. Damn, they couldn’t get even a few hours without suffering another one.
Castiel nodded shakily, cheek rubbing against Sam’s shoulder blade, then turned to rest his forehead against Dean’s. “Dark,” he whispered, barely audible. “Eyes. Dark. Black.”
Sam fumbled his hand backward to grip the kid’s ankle in silent support, still watching Ruby, not looking away. Dean nodded carefully, keeping Castiel pressed gently between him and Sam. “I know, kiddo,” he murmured. “I saw a lot of that, once.”
But Castiel shook his head, just a little, just once, still pushing tight against Dean. “Others. Yellow. Red. White. Eyes.”
Dean pulled in a breath. “In your memory?”
“Yes. Many eyes.”
“Okay. I gotcha. Thanks for telling me.”
Dean raised his head to glance over at Ruby, meeting her eyes. She sat limply against her car, looking tired and defeated, and…something else. Something he looked away from, disbelieving. Castiel’s head drooped on his shoulder, a weary sigh escaping parted lips.
“I can help you,” Ruby said. “I can help you make that hex bag. And…and I think I know what happened to him.”
Dean jerked his head around to stare at her, and he could feel the sharpening in Sam, too, the quick intake of breath and the sudden stillness. “You said you hadn’t heard anything.”
She smirked, not managing to look quite as sardonic as she probably wanted, still too shaken by the unexpected revelation of Castiel’s eyes. “Well, I didn’t know what you were talking about then, did I? I said I think I know. I think I know something, anyway, though I’m guessing that this wasn’t quite what Hell was going for.”
Sam’s gigantic forehead wrinkled at this. “What are you talking about?”
Ruby shrugged, hands lifting from her car’s hood and thunking down again with a sharp smack. “Not really a story to tell out on the street, Sam.”
Dean looked around, suddenly aware of the spectacle they must be making. The street was quiet, middle of the afternoon on a workday in a white bread town, a brisk November day that had the few pedestrians he did see hunching in their jackets, probably wishing they had worn heavier clothes. It had been warmer this morning.
He glanced down at Castiel, saw the kid yawn and snuggle his head down in the crook of Dean’s shoulder and neck. The kid didn’t seem scared anymore, just tired. Everything that existed in Dean rebelled against giving Ruby even the tiniest bit of trust that could be levered to harm this boy in any way.
But just the fact that she knew who he was, and where, was probably harm enough.
“What do you think, kiddo?” Dean asked, almost reflexive after a day of sharing every passing thought with the silent boy. “Think we should let Ruby into our little band of amigos? Just for a little while?”
Castiel stilled for a moment, apparently thinking. He raised his head and pushed against Sam’s arm, and the younger Winchester glanced down and moved, letting the boy look at the demon woman again. Cas rested there for a time, watching, blinking slowly. Then he looked into Dean’s face and nodded solemnly.
“Little while,” he said.
Dean sighed. This whole thing was freaking uncomfortable. But if the kid was okay with it, he would find a way to deal.
“For a little while,” he confirmed. And he tried to ignore the way Ruby smiled.
Part 9
Title: Entertaining Angels
Author: Maychorian
Characters: Dean, Sam, Castiel
Category: Gen, Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Rating: K+/PG
Spoilers: Through 4.10
Summary: A strange boy shows up at Dean and Sam’s motel room. Maybe he needs help, or maybe he’s there to help them—they can’t quite tell.
Word Count: 1654
Disclaimer: Angels belong to God. The Winchesters belong to Kripke. It’s a sad, sad world we live in.
Author’s Note: In case you were wondering, I kinda like Ruby. But I hope this works for the haters out there, too.
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7
8As soon as he saw the corner of that beautiful, gleaming black hood roll up in front of the store, Dean hurried out the door in a clatter of bells and headed for the Impala. He still carried Castiel propped on his right hip, plastic bag full of clothes in the opposite hand. Sam was already jogging around the car to meet them, eyes wide and hands spread, looking a little out of breath. Dean halted, confused.
Before he could ask what was going on, Sam was already talking, words tumbling out of his mouth in a hasty assault. “Dean, I promise, I didn’t tell her anything. I didn’t say a word.”
Dean leaned back a bit, reflexively tightening his arm around the boy. “Didn’t tell who what?”
Sam pressed his lips together and tilted his head back behind the Impala. Dean flicked his eyes over…and saw Ruby, standing next to the driver’s side door of a rental sedan parked right behind Dean’s baby. He felt his eyes narrow almost involuntarily, taking her in.
“She followed me. I was going to go in the clothes shop and tell you to just hang out for awhile until I could get rid of her, but you came out too fast. I’m sorry, Dean.”
Dean shook his head minutely, his gaze locked on Ruby’s. Every muscle in his body had gone taut, vibrating with adrenaline and unease. Yeah, he had been coming to appreciate the help she could offer, and he owed her for saving Sam’s life while he was down under. He had even begun to see her as a sort of ally—the kind you kept in front of you so you could avoid a knife in the back. But that was when it was just him and Sam. The situation was a little different now.
Castiel could feel the tension in him, and he squirmed against Dean’s arm, stiff around his slender waist, one shoe kicking painlessly at Dean’s thigh. Dean held him tighter and continued to stare.
Ruby slid easily around her car, eyes trained on the boy. Her expression seemed neutral, but Dean didn’t trust it. She had no more reason to like angels than Pamela Barnes did, and she was a lot more dangerous than a cheerfully horny psychic.
“This is who you wanted that hex bag for?” Ruby asked, gaze flicking briefly to Sam before returning to the boy. “This is who you’re so eager to protect?”
None of them said anything—the answer was obvious. Sam turned to face her, shoulder to shoulder with Dean, Castiel held between them. The child had gone still and silent, staring back at the demon.
Ruby stepped up on the sidewalk, now standing only a few feet away. “A kid, Sam? Really? Who is he?”
“Just our little cousin,” Dean said easily. “Came into our care recently, you know, the whole tragic circumstances thing. We’re fond of the little guy—don’t want anyone messing with him. So yeah, we wanted one of your super-duper mojo bags. Is it so surprising that we would want to do everything possible to take care of a little kid who got stuck with us? Really, Ruby, what kind of monsters do you think we are?”
Her lips went thin, forehead wrinkling, and she took another step closer, staring even harder. Dean scowled and swiveled on his heel, putting Castiel partly behind Sam’s shoulder and arm. Sam smoothly took half a step closer, hiding the boy more effectively.
Ruby stopped moving and held up her hands. “Hey, c’mon. I could ask you the same question, here. I’ve never screwed you over, and I’m not going to start with a kid. I’m just not quite buying your bullshit story, that’s all. You know it stinks from a mile away, right?”
Cas wriggled in Dean’s hold, and he looked over in time to see the kid tilt his head almost all the way over, peeking around Sam to continue looking at Ruby, one small hand fisted in Sam’s jacket sleeve. Just his usual unquenchable curiosity, or did he recognize the demon girl? Castiel’s face showed no distress, just that little crease of interest between his wide blue eyes.
Dean almost snorted a laugh when Ruby mirrored him, tilting her head to look into the kid’s eyes, long dark hair sliding over her shoulder with the movement. He had to admit, though, that there was nothing threatening in her posture. Just the same kind of curiosity and interest, though there was certainly nothing innocent and naïve about this woman.
Then two things happened almost simultaneously. Ruby started and jerked back a step, stumbling over her own feet, eyes flipping to dead black in what appeared to be an entirely reflexive reaction to something. The instant the black appeared, Castiel’s hands flew out and grabbed Dean’s bicep, digging deep and gripping tight, and he hid his face against the back of Sam’s shoulder, suddenly shaking uncontrollably.
An almost-instinctive growl ripped out of Dean’s throat, and he dropped the shopping bag and brought his arm around to wrap around Castiel’s back, stepping closer to Sam so the kid could leave his face pressed where it was while Dean held him tight. Dean could feel the tension in his brother ratchet up about five hundred notches, his stance toward Ruby suddenly even more aggressive than it had been. Sam held himself still, though, for the boy’s sake.
“What was that?” Sam demanded. “Ruby? What just happened?”
Ruby leaned back against her rented car on both elbows, breathing ragged and quick. Her eyes were wide, but they looked human again, dark brown instead of black. “Sorry,” she breathed. “Just…wasn’t expecting that. I know who he is, now. I get why you want to protect him so bad.”
Dean’s lip curled in a snarl, but he kept quiet, too busy rubbing Cas’s back, trying to help him calm down. Sam shook his head, shaggy hair bouncing. “What makes you so sure?”
“It’s the eyes,” she said shortly, then leveled a disapproving look at him. “Windows of the soul, they say. And those are some damn unforgettable windows. How did you figure it out?”
Dean had to shrug, reluctantly giving her that one. It wasn’t as if the boy was going around announcing, “I am Castiel, angel of the Lord,” anymore.
He bent closer to the kid, letting his nose touch the trembling temple. “Hey, bud,” he murmured. “You okay? Another memory, like a nightmare?” A flashback. Damn, they couldn’t get even a few hours without suffering another one.
Castiel nodded shakily, cheek rubbing against Sam’s shoulder blade, then turned to rest his forehead against Dean’s. “Dark,” he whispered, barely audible. “Eyes. Dark. Black.”
Sam fumbled his hand backward to grip the kid’s ankle in silent support, still watching Ruby, not looking away. Dean nodded carefully, keeping Castiel pressed gently between him and Sam. “I know, kiddo,” he murmured. “I saw a lot of that, once.”
But Castiel shook his head, just a little, just once, still pushing tight against Dean. “Others. Yellow. Red. White. Eyes.”
Dean pulled in a breath. “In your memory?”
“Yes. Many eyes.”
“Okay. I gotcha. Thanks for telling me.”
Dean raised his head to glance over at Ruby, meeting her eyes. She sat limply against her car, looking tired and defeated, and…something else. Something he looked away from, disbelieving. Castiel’s head drooped on his shoulder, a weary sigh escaping parted lips.
“I can help you,” Ruby said. “I can help you make that hex bag. And…and I think I know what happened to him.”
Dean jerked his head around to stare at her, and he could feel the sharpening in Sam, too, the quick intake of breath and the sudden stillness. “You said you hadn’t heard anything.”
She smirked, not managing to look quite as sardonic as she probably wanted, still too shaken by the unexpected revelation of Castiel’s eyes. “Well, I didn’t know what you were talking about then, did I? I said I think I know. I think I know something, anyway, though I’m guessing that this wasn’t quite what Hell was going for.”
Sam’s gigantic forehead wrinkled at this. “What are you talking about?”
Ruby shrugged, hands lifting from her car’s hood and thunking down again with a sharp smack. “Not really a story to tell out on the street, Sam.”
Dean looked around, suddenly aware of the spectacle they must be making. The street was quiet, middle of the afternoon on a workday in a white bread town, a brisk November day that had the few pedestrians he did see hunching in their jackets, probably wishing they had worn heavier clothes. It had been warmer this morning.
He glanced down at Castiel, saw the kid yawn and snuggle his head down in the crook of Dean’s shoulder and neck. The kid didn’t seem scared anymore, just tired. Everything that existed in Dean rebelled against giving Ruby even the tiniest bit of trust that could be levered to harm this boy in any way.
But just the fact that she knew who he was, and where, was probably harm enough.
“What do you think, kiddo?” Dean asked, almost reflexive after a day of sharing every passing thought with the silent boy. “Think we should let Ruby into our little band of amigos? Just for a little while?”
Castiel stilled for a moment, apparently thinking. He raised his head and pushed against Sam’s arm, and the younger Winchester glanced down and moved, letting the boy look at the demon woman again. Cas rested there for a time, watching, blinking slowly. Then he looked into Dean’s face and nodded solemnly.
“Little while,” he said.
Dean sighed. This whole thing was freaking uncomfortable. But if the kid was okay with it, he would find a way to deal.
“For a little while,” he confirmed. And he tried to ignore the way Ruby smiled.
Part 9