#the fledgling
Characters: Sam, Dean, Castiel
Warning:None
Word Count: 1,513
Summary: On their way back from a werewolf hunt, Sam and Dean discover something curious in the woods and suddenly find themselves burdened with a different kind of responsibility.
A/N: So that poll I did forever ago? This is the series that won out, and I’m finally getting around to posting the darn thing.
Story
Tired and battered, Sam and Dean Winchester trudge through the early morning woods with half-empty pistols tucked in their belts. Moments ago, they freed the world of another werewolf, and fortunately they aren’t too much worse for wear. A few bruises mar the surface of their skin, and scratches adorn both their faces, but all in all, it was a job well done.
They don’t speak as they head back to the Impala, too worn and tired of noise to want to converse. A constant sweeping of the eyes scans the surrounding woods for potential danger, though there probably is none. There was only one werewolf, but a good hunter knows they can never be too careful. No sign of any other life is seen for a good long while, any wildlife having been scared away by the monster that roamed up until a few minutes ago, but as they near the car, Dean picks up on something fifty feet to his right.
“Hey, Sam.” He gestures to the object. “See that?”
“Yeah. It looks like a blanket. Probably belonged to one of the victims.”
“Maybe, but there’s something weird about it. My hunting senses are telling me to go check it out.” Dean takes one last glance around before walking over to the blanket tucked into the roots of a tree. Kneeling, he reaches a hand out to unfold it, and his heart skips a beat when he finds a tiny sleeping child inside it. “What the hell?”
Sam catches up and looks over his brother’s shoulder. “What is it?”
“A baby.”
“Is it … is it alive?”
Dean watches the infant for a moment, relieved to see the rise and fall of its tiny chest. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s alive. What the hell is a baby doing out in the middle of the woods?”
Sam shrugs. “Bait?”
“For what?”
“Don’t know. Maybe someone else was trying to lure out that werewolf?”
“Who the hell uses a baby to lure a monster?”
“Not everyone has the same semblance of sanity we do.”
“I don’t think this is bait. Look at this blanket.” Dean rubs the white fabric between his fingers. “This is silk or some crap. I don’t know any hunters who have the means to wrap a baby in something this fancy.”
“So, you think it’s abandoned?”
Dean sighs. “I hate to say it, but yeah, I think somebody abandoned this baby.”
“What now? What are we supposed to do about it?”
“Find the parents, Sam. If that doesn’t work out, we contact the police and let them handle it.” Carefully, Dean picks up the baby and stands.
Still scanning the woods, Sam follows behind his brother as he heads for the car, searching for any sign of another human being. No one makes themselves known, and the brothers drive away with a baby in tow.
* * * * *
“Well, it’s a girl.” Speaking over a loud squalling, Dean finishes diapering the baby and quickly wraps her in her silk blanket.
Sam glances up from his computer. “Congratulations.”
Scooping her up, Dean nestles the baby in the crook of his arm and starts to fuss over her. She continues to squirm and cry, still protesting her recent exposure to the obviously dissatisfactory air of the motel room.
“Oh hush, you,” Dean admonishes gently. “We can’t have you waking the neighbors, alright? I get the feeling they aren’t fond of mornings or children.”
With a bit more shushing and a few pats on the back, the baby girl quiets her wailing, opting to stare up at the filthy human being holding her and telling her to be quiet.
“There we go.” Dean rewards her with a smile. “Who’s a good girl?”
She makes a huffing noise with her nose, effectively eliciting a laugh from Dean.
“Don’t go getting attached over there. She’s got parents someplace.”
“Probably. Any sign of them?”
Sam shakes his head. “Nothing yet. No missing person reports, no kidnappings, nothing. Other than that werewolf, this town is pretty uneventful.”
Unhappy with the shift in Dean’s attention, the infant gives a small yell to get it back. It works.
“What was that for?” Dean asks her. “Jealous, much?”
The only response he gets is a stare and yawn, and moments later the infant dozes off in his arms. He cuddles her closer, instinctively wanting to protect her as she sleeps. A small, selfish part of him hopes they won’t find her next of kin. Maybe then he could convince Sam that keeping her wouldn’t be so bad. Perhaps it would give them both a reason to wean themselves off of hunting for good. He’s become inexplicably attached to the tiny thing in the hour or two he’s had her, and he doesn’t want to put her down, much less give her up.
“Have you fed her yet?” Sam speaks up again.
“She hasn’t asked. I’ll work on it when she gets fussy. In the meantime, what’s the plan?”
“If we can’t find her parents, we hand her over to the police. In a couple of hours, we can call around town and see if we don’t get any leads.”
“You won’t.” Castiel’s low voice interrupts the conversation.
“You could bother to call ahead once in a while, you know. What do you mean we won’t?”
“You won’t find her parents”—the angel shifts his eyes to the baby—“because she’s a fledgling.”
“A what?” Dean raises an eyebrow questioningly.
“A fledgling.”
“So … not human?”
“Angel,” Sam interrupts. “A fledgling is a baby angel, am I right?”
Cass nods. “Yes. She’s a baby angel.”
“We found her in the woods, Cass. What the hell was a baby angel doing in the woods alone? Shouldn’t she be in some heavenly nursery?” Suddenly a bit more conscious of what he’s holding, Dean begins to rock subtly and pat the newborn on the back.
“I … I don’t know why she was in the woods. I don’t know why she isn’t in Heaven.” Castiel turns away and moves to inspect a cheap knockoff painting on the wall. “She may have been abandoned intentionally.”
“So take her back. Zap her up to Heaven and put her up for adoption.”
“I can’t … I don’t want to.”
“Why the hell not?”
Castiel flicks his eyes over to Dean briefly and then looks off into space.
“Cass, why won’t you take her back?”
“Dean, if she was abandoned, she isn’t supposed to exist. She’s taboo.”
“What, like an out-of-wedlock baby?”
“More like without permission.” Cass’ voice becomes stern and deadly serious. “Angels are not permitted to copulate, much less produce offspring. That baby is proof that someone broke that rule.”
“What would happen to her?”
“She’d be killed.”
And abruptly the whole room is silent. Sam soberly closes his laptop, and Dean holds Castiel’s gaze while clutching the baby closer to himself. If he felt compelled to protect her before, the feeling has increased tenfold in the past five seconds, and repressed paternal instincts break free of their own accord.
“Angels are dicks,” he mutters. “No offense, Cass.”
“None taken.”
“What are we supposed to do with her?” Sam asks. “Is there some sort of hideout, a couple of rebel angels who could take her in?”
“Actually …” Cass lets out a breath. “I was hoping you might care for her.”
“Us?” Dean’s eyes go wide. “You want us to raise an angel?”
“That would be ideal.”
“No, Cass, it wouldn’t be ideal. Sam and I aren’t qualified to take care of a human baby. What makes you think we know anything about raising an entirely different species? You have to find somebody else …” Voice trailing off, Dean looks down at the sleeping baby, fighting back the desire to kiss her forehead.
“Dean, there is no one else. I don’t trust anyone else, not with this. If I take her to Heaven, she dies. If I place her in a human orphanage, she’ll be locked away as a specimen.”
“And if you leave her with us, we’ll probably start the umpteenth apocalypse.”
Castiel gives Dean a pleading gaze, and that same gaze is cast on Sam when he turns to face the younger Winchester. Sam studies the angel, reads the hope that can’t be expressed through words alone, and finds fear there as well.
“What if it was temporary?” Sam suggests. “What if we keep her just until we find someone better equipped to take care of a fledgling?”
“That could take months, Sam. Do you really want to be responsible for a fledgling for months?”
“Cass will be around, and he can teach us how to take care of her. We could handle a month or two, hide her until she can go someplace safer.”
Dean purses his lips, eyes flicking between his brother and his best friend, one optimistic, the other fearfully desperate.
“Dean, please,” Cass implores.
After a pause, Dean gives in. “Alright,” he says. “She can stay. Temporarily.”
@pureawesomeness001 @27bmm @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @super-not-naturall@gabriel-themightysugaraddict@mogaruke@mrswhozeewhatsis@hexparker@kdfrqqg@little-castiel13@18crazybutcutealsopsycho@olympianbeagles
Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel
Warning: None
Word Count: 1,296
Summary:After his confrontation with Kerubiel, Castiel realizes how much danger the fledgling is in and returns to the brothers to warn them.
Part One-Part Two-Part Three-Part Four-Part Five -Part Six
Story
Having been inflicted by one of very few weapons that threaten an angel, the wound in Castiel’s shoulder stubbornly refuses to close, seeps blood and Grace, and soaks up the energy required to heal his other, minor wounds. The pain of it is sharp, the arm prickly and numb, the throbbing deep and reverberating down his spine, but he can’t tell if it pierced through his back. Coddling his injured left shoulder and feeling the sting of his brother’s other blows, he teleports out of the alley and back the Winchesters’ motel. His aim is off, and he lands just outside their room. When Dean opens the door, Cass’ strength reaches its end, and he’s half dragged into the room by the older brother.
“What happened, Cass?” Dean demands to know, letting his friend rest on the floor.
Cass sits forward, bracing his weight on his good arm and breathing hard. “They found me. They know I’m hiding her.” He winces when Dean presses a rag against his wound.
“Who’s ‘they’?”
“Angels. They want to kill her. And me.”
“Well, they ain’t gettin’ in here. The whole damn room’s warded against fifty shades of evil.”
“You have to go. You have to get her away from here. Take her someplace hidden.”
“There’s no place close by.”
“Then drive all night if you must. Please go, Dean.” Cass fixes his best friend with a look as imploring as the one from the day he asked the brothers to keep the fledgling as their ward. It works. Dean shakes his head, quickly ties the rag around Cass’ shoulder, and begins gathering his things. In the next seconds, Sam hands him the baby so that he can mimic his brother.
Nestled in the crook of the angel’s right arm, the oblivious five-month-old stares at him and at the motion of her caretakers with her big blue eyes, kicks at the lapel of his trench coat, and sucks on her yellow pacifier. Soon she should begin babbling, and then in a flash she’ll be talking and asking an endless number of questions. All she has to do is survive being hunted. As he does each time he sees the fledgling, Cass wonders how anyone could want to harm this tiny, beautiful, perfect creature. Unlike everyone around her, she’s innocent, perhaps the only one among them deserving of peace and happiness. Cass loves her with an intensity he’s never had for anyone else.
When Dean tries to get him on his feet, he pulls away and tries to hand over the baby. “Leave me here. I’ll hold them off if they come this way.”
“I ain’t leavin’ you here. You’re coming with us.”
“They might be following me.”
“If they find us, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Let’s go.”
Cass is, honestly, feeling drowsy, sore, and a little shaky, but he holds on tight to the baby and follows the Winchesters out to their car. Once he’s settled in the backseat, weariness overtakes him. Dean starts the car, and as he succumbs to sleep, he’s aware of Sam taking the fledgling and strapping her into her car seat. Her curious burbling is the last thing he hears. Sometime later he awakens to find that his minor wounds have healed and that the scenery has changed: to the right is a forest, to the left is a guardrail and, beyond it and a ways down, the edge of a small lake.
“Why have we stopped?” he asks.
Dean replies, “We’ve got company.”
* * * * *
Hands gripping the wheel of the idling Impala, Dean stares out the front window at the four figures blocking the two-lane highway. They stand in an even line, but the tallest – a man so masculine it’s almost cliché – is without a doubt their leader. Behind them, the late afternoon sun dips towards the horizon and stretches their shadows all the way to the front fender. The group moves toward the car once it’s made a full stop.
“Sam, get the kid,” Dean orders. He reaches underneath the seat for the silver dagger he keeps there – not very effective against an angel but better than nothing – and braces for the impending fight. This nameless baby who’s been riding in his car and puking on his shirts has burrowed her way into his heart, and nothing and no one will ever take her from him. No longer does he wish for Castiel to find another home; that’s what he wants to give her.
The angels reach the car, each one opening a door and reaching for whichever man is closest. Dean lets himself be pulled outside by the drill sergeant one in khakis and a wife beater before he starts slashing. He manages to get a few good strikes in before the angel gets reoriented. Then it’s a downhill battle. Dean twists and ducks, kicks and jabs, but the angel would be a rock even if he relied on the strength, skill, and dexterity of his vessel alone. In a move that catches Dean off guard, his knife hand is twisted until he’s forced to drop the dagger, his arms are pinned to his back, and the edge of an angel blade is pressed against his neck. From this precarious perspective, he can see that Cass is holding his own against a pair of black angels, but Sam has been cornered with the infant and the demon blade with a blade pointed at his neck by a hilariously petite Japanese woman.
“Hold off, Castiel,” shouts his captor, “or the Winchesters will have their throats slit.”
Castiel backs away from his opponents who, surprisingly, don’t take advantage of his retreat but rather take two steps back towards their leader. In the lull that follows, the baby’s fussing mingles with the breeze off the lake.
“End this madness, Kerubiel.”
“You are in no position to argue, brother. Give yourself and the child over to us, and we’ll allow these two to walk free.”
“The child has done nothing wrong. Take me and leave her be.”
“If you continue to bargain, I will slit this mudmonkey’s throat come after you myself while he bleeds out. Take the fledgling from the tall one there and bring her to me.”
“Don’t do it, Cass,” Dean says, stopping when the blade is pressed more persuasively against his Adam’s apple.
Castiel studies the scene around him, left arm held a bit stiffly, then sags and turns to Kerubiel. “If I come quietly with the baby,” he starts despairingly, “you’ll let Sam and Dean go free?”
“You have my word.”
Slowly, Cass walks over to Sam and reaches around the woman for the five-month-old. Confused and sickeningly worried, Dean is helpless to watch his friend take the baby from Sam – who can’t resist much with a knife point under his jaw – and carry her back to Kerubiel.
“Cass, no.”
“Let them go,” Cass demands. “Once they’re free, you can have us both.”
Kerubiel nods and releases Dean who tries to read his friend as he stumbles away. “Nuriel, Nithael, Mebehiah, back to me.”
Even when Kerubiel lifts the fussing infant from his arms, Castiel does nothing to turn the tides. When Dean defensively moves to intervene, the tiny woman blocks his path and stares him down. Sam joins him in watching the exchange, both of them at a loss for everything.
“You’re cute for an abomination,” Kerubiel says to the fledgling. Then to Cass, “Will you come quietly, or should I have you bound?”
“I’ll come quietly, but I have just one question.”
“What?”
Cass casts a quick, sly look over his shoulder at the brothers, and then a grin spreads across the angel’s face. “Do you even know me, bitch?”
@pureawesomeness001 @27bmm @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @super-not-naturall@gabriel-themightysugaraddict@mogaruke@mrswhozeewhatsis@hexparker@kdfrqqg@little-castiel13@18crazybutcutealsopsycho@olympianbeagles
Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel
Warning: None
Word Count: 1,399
Summary: Dean confronts Castiel about what the next steps are for the fledgling, and things come to a head with Kerubiel and the other radicals.
Part One-Part Two-Part Three-Part Four -Part Five
Story
Dean is pulled from an interesting though not unfamiliar dream by Castiel shaking his shoulder. He startles, but when he realizes it’s only his friend, he groans and turns back over. The baby kept him and Sam up all night.
“Sup, Cass?” he mumbles.
“I got your message. Were you serious?”
“Which message?”
“The angel. Did Sam really see an angel?”
Noticing the panic is Castiel’s voice, Dean sluggishly sits up. “What’s going on with you?”
“Answer the question.”
“Yeah, Cass. Sam saw an angel on a walk in the park. Don’t worry. It’s fine.”
But Cass worries. Cass stumbles as he backs up, and mouth forms a thin line. Casting a glance at the fledgling asleep in her dingy bassinet, he starts pacing. He looks out the window and rubs his neck. Dean sighs and wakes up his brother.
“Please tell Cass we handled the angel situation.”
“It’s fine, Cass,” Sam confirms through a yawn. “We skipped town and drove for ten hours. This whole room is warded. The kid is fine.”
“That was three days ago. Why are you just now showing up?”
Castiel checks the window again. “I’ve been … working. I needed to stay away so I won’t draw attention. There are rumors now.”
“About the fledgling?”
“Yes. A group of pre-creation radicals thinks she’s real.”
“That’s never – what are you doing? Don’t wake her up.”
Dean watches his friend scoop the infant from the bassinet, watches him hesitate with his hand over her heart, watches him shut his eyes and lower that hand. Then he hears the baby scream at his touch, sees her thrash and squirm. He and Sam are up in a flash, fully awake now, but Castiel thrusts the fledgling into Dean’s arms before a word can be said, drops her like a bad habit and recoils.
“I engraved her ribs,” he murmurs. “She’s safer this way.”
With her head on his shoulder, Dean rocks the fledgling and pats her back. “You’re okay, sweetheart. I know it hurts.”
After a minute, the baby settles into gentle whispers and hiccups, and Dean sits beside Castiel who has been wringing his hands. Now they match, the brothers and the fledgling: same carvings, same angel responsible.
“What’s up with you, buddy?” Dean asks.
“Nothing, I just …” Castiel gazes at the dozing infant. “I can’t even protect her without hurting her.”
“Cass, she’s over it. Tomorrow morning, she won’t remember it. And like you said, she’s safer.”
“I don’t want to hurt her.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong, but we should talk. Give me your hand.”
When Cass doesn’t move, Dean grabs his hand and brings up to rest atop the baby’s shoulders. There are two small bumps between her shoulder blades. He only noticed them yesterday, they don’t cause her discomfort, and he only has one guess what they might be.
“Any idea what those are?”
Touching lightly, Cass traces the bumps with his fingertips. “Her wings, I guess. She wasn’t born with them. Maybe this is the start of them.”
“You think they’ll come in at some point?”
“Yes.”
Dean nods. “What’re Sam and I supposed to do when that happens?”
“I suppose I would come back and help.”
“What about all the other stuff? I assume she’s got Grace, so she’ll have to learn what that is and how to use it. She’ll want to know about her kind, and somebody’s gotta teach her how to use her wings when they do come in. Cass, Sam and I can’t teach her how to be an angel.”
“I know that.”
“There’s two options. One, you stick around, permanently, and help raise her.”
“I can’t do that. It’s too dangerous.”
“Two, you find her a better home like you said you would almost three weeks ago.”
“I know. I’m … I’m working on it.” Cass stands. “I’ll call you.”
“Cass, hold up.”
But Castiel is gone.
* * * * *
For a while, Castiel strikes out on his own. He counts the days as two weeks turns into three and then four, ducks calls from Sam and Dean, and avoids his own kind by taking solo assignments. The solitude, though refreshing, makes it harder to keep his mind distracted. It goes back to the fledgling, what to do with her. At the same time, there’s less opportunity to say something that would endanger her.
On week five, Cass takes a personal day and takes to the forgotten slums of the urban United States. Wandering the alleys, he gives miracles to the poor, the sick, the homeless. In one afternoon, he’s healed and fed those who let him come near. It feels good to be healing and bringing comfort. For once, he knows what to do. The man in this last alley is blind, and when Castiel restores his sight, he gets to his feet, thanks his savior profusely, stumbles out into the sunlight he hasn’t seen in decades.
“That man there,” he says to the stranger at the end of the alley, “does miracles.”
Castiel straightens and faces the stranger. “What are you doing here, Kerubiel?”
“I came to check on you. We were all a little worried about this isolation kick you’re on, but here you are performing miracles.” Kerubiel glances over his shoulder at where the homeless man made his exit. “That was always your problem, Castiel. Too much heart.”
“If you’re here to make fun of me, I’ll be on my way.”
“Oh, no.” Kerubiel stops Castiel by placing a hand on his shoulder. “I also came so we could have a little talk.”
“About what?”
“The fledgling. The abomination.”
Rolling his eyes, Castiel shrugs off his brother’s hand. “There’s no fledgling. You’re wasting your time.”
“I beg to differ. In fact, I think you can help me more than anyone else.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because I know it’s yours.”
On the outside, Cass holds his brother’s stare and tries to keep his face emotionless, but his stomach drops. Has someone been spying on him? On the Winchesters?
“Nuriel saw one of your beloved Winchesters a few weeks back. She told me they have an infant with them. Why would that be?”
“They must have found it on a hunt. There’s no fledgling. She doesn’t exist.”
“She?” Kerubiel lifts an eyebrow. “It seems she does exist. You’re hidden her well, brother. Engraved her ribs? Warded the whole building?”
“Get out of my way.”
Castiel pushes past Kerubiel, but he doesn’t make it two steps before he’s pulled back and thrown to the ground. Two sets of arms drag him up – Nuriel and Nithael – and pin him against the wall while Mebehiah hovers nearby. Kerubiel stands in front of Castiel, arms crossed and chin up.
“You and Haniel go on a mission somewhere in West Africa. You come back, she disappears for a year, and then she comes back and commits suicide. Meanwhile, Sam and Dean have acquired an infant. It’s not hard to notice the truth.”
“There’s no fledgling.” The denial earns him a blow to the mouth, and he spits blood.
“Let me make this clear. There is a fledgling, you arethe father, and you will tell me where she is.”
“Or what?”
Drawing his angel blade, Kerubiel waves it tauntingly. “Or I’ll kill you slowly. Where’s the fledgling?”
There’s no point in denying anymore, so Cass says, “Bite me.”
His brother strikes him again, this time in the stomach, and he gasps and his legs wobble. “I said tell me!”
“And I said … bite me.”
The blade plunges into his shoulder and cries out as his spine convulses in pain. Still, he reveals no information. Nothing Kerubiel could do will make him give up the infant’s whereabouts. He keeps his mouth shut blow after blow. After a time, Nithael and Nuriel are ordered to drop him, and when they do, he sinks to his knees, gasping for breath. Kerubiel pounces and pins him beneath one knee.
“I’m feeling generous today,” he hisses. “I’m going to kill you no matter what, but I’ll give you a second chance to be helpful. Take a day, then tell me where you’ve hidden the fledgling. If you don’t, I will make sure your last moments are spent in agony.”
He rises and tucks his blade away. “One day, Castiel.”
@pureawesomeness001 @27bmm @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @super-not-naturall@gabriel-themightysugaraddict@mogaruke@mrswhozeewhatsis@hexparker@kdfrqqg@little-castiel13@18crazybutcutealsopsycho@olympianbeagles
Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel
Warning: None
Word Count: 1,135
Summary:A hitch in the Winchesters’ aim to keep the baby angel protected puts them on the run, and Castiel has a run-in with Kerubiel and his followers.
Part One-Part Two-Part Three -Part Four
Story
Sam enters the motel room much too rushed for Dean’s liking. It’s not the way he moves that Dean doesn’t like, but rather how he has the fledgling clutched to his shoulder and nearly smothered by his jacket. Now, Dean doesn’t claim to know much about parenting, but he’s pretty sure you’re not supposed to hold a baby like that. He’s handed the fledgling quickly, however, and his discomfort is alleviated.
“Have you heard from Cass yet?” asks Sam.
“Not a word. Same thing as every day for the past two weeks.” Dean nestles the infant in his lap and lets her dig her feet into his stomach. “Did you scare him off? Hm? Two days with you, and he runs away. What’re you hiding, huh?”
Waving her arms, the fledgling blows a razzberry. She makes Dean smile. Lately, she’s been developing at an astonishing rate. Only yesterday, it seems, her eyes were barely open, and now she’s wide-eyed and substantially more aware of her surroundings. If she had a name, she might recognize it by now. Sam and Dean have tried out a few names, but nothing seemed to fit. They gave up and decided that they don’t have the authority to name an angel. That job should go to Castiel if it goes to anyone.
Now Cass … there’s a walking conundrum. While his infant kin has been doing some growing, the angel has been entirely absent. He’s uncharacteristically quiet about the whole affair and hasn’t brought up finding her a permanent home since leaving her with them. From Dean’s perspective, it’s like his friend is ashamed, and to a degree he understands why. If Sam had a kid knowing it would be in danger of execution its whole life, Dean would be ashamed of him too. He would do what could be done to protect the child as Cass has done, but shame and anger would be with him forever. Yes, Dean understands Castiel, but when he looks at the baby, at her deep blue eyes and head of recently grown dark fuzz, he can’t shake the feeling that there’s information he’s missing.
“Dean!” barks Sam.
“Huh?” Dean looks up. “Why are you packing your stuff?”
Sam rolls his eyes. “I just told you. We need to leave town.”
“What? Why? We just got here. What’d you do this time?”
“Someone saw me and the baby in the park.”
“Well, it is a park.”
“Pretty sure it was an angel, Dean. Call Cass and let him know we’re leaving.”
“He won’t answer.”
“Then leave a message. Just do it quickly because we have to go.”
* * * * *
There are no less than thirty-six missed calls in Castiel’s inbox. A little less than one third of these calls are from Sam, and the rest are from Dean. Many of them have voicemails attached, and the angel has listened to a few.
“Cass? Hey, um, she won’t eat. Keeps whining every time I give her the bottle. Don’t know if something’s wrong. Call me back.”
“Cass” —this one had screaming in the background— “she’s so loud, I can’t find her pacifier – wait, never mind. It’s good. Call me back.”
“Cass? Could use a little help. Sam’s out for a run, and I ran out of diapers. Oh my God, there’s so much poop. Help me, Cass.”
“Cass? It’s me. How many times a day do babies spit up? Don’t know if this is normal or if we need a different formula. She puked all over my last clean shirt. Call me back.”
“Cass, it’s been more than a week. You’re supposed to be helping, remember? You can’t vanish like this. If there’s something wrong, tell us. Call me back.”
In Castiel’s opinion, Dean is acting like a helpless parent, and, well he is one, but he’s overreacting. As far as Cass is concerned, the fledgling’s needs are the same as any human baby’s with the added bonus of never getting sick. Maybe she can be injured at this young age, but she should become invulnerable with time. Really, the Winchesters needn’t worry about her physical health.
Meanwhile, the angel has immersed himself in Heaven’s inner workings. With so much still broken, there’s more than enough to keep him busy. He purposefully stays close to Kerubiel and the others while trying to not attract their attention. Harut is with him for many of his jobs, so it’s inevitable that she picks up on his pattern.
“Why do they concern you so much?” she finally asks him.
“They intend to kill, Harut.”
“There’s nothing to kill. There’s no fledgling. Castiel, our sister may have committed suicide, but there is no fledgling.”
“I have seen worse acts committed for false beliefs.”
Actually, it doesn’t surprise him when Kerubiel, his followers with him, corner him and Harut in a young forest. The leader of this band folds his arms and squares his shoulders. He and Castiel are evenly matched in strength and power, but Kerubiel has always needed to be bigger than anyone else, and his six-foot-six vessel – a well-trained army soldier with a buzz of dark hair – provides that illusion. Mebehiah, Nithael, and Nuriel, two male vessels of African descent and one female of Japanese, respectively, spread out in a half circle like obedient dogs.
“I hear you’ve been following us, brother,” Kerubiel says. “You think we mean harm.”
“Let us pass, Kerubiel. You have no quarrel with us.”
“I don’t appreciate being the subject of such whispers. We do not intend to murder our kin.”
“Then what are your intentions?”
“We mean to serve justice. A sacred law has been broken, and punishment must be given. We would kill only to make things right.”
“You mean to hunt down an innocent angel and an infant and slaughter them both. Broken laws or not, in what world is that not murder?” As he speaks, Castiel draws slowly closer to his taller brother until he is mere inches away, close enough to stare him down in an attempt to assert dominance.
“But you believe there is no infant, do you not?” Kerubiel replies calmly. “There is no reason to defend something that doesn’t exist.”
“What happens when your search fails? Will you falsely accuse one of our brothers and kill them to avoid looking the fool? I for one will not allow you to bring harm to any of us. Take your followers and leave the matter alone.”
Kerubiel narrows his eyes, saying slowly, “Do you have something to hide, brother?” Then he snaps his fingers, and all four angels vanish.
Castiel relaxes, shoulders sagging, and glances back at his sister. Harut is watching him with a mix of awe and fear.
Shaking her head, she mutters, “Sometimes I question your sanity, Castiel.”
@pureawesomeness001 @27bmm @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @super-not-naturall@gabriel-themightysugaraddict@mogaruke@mrswhozeewhatsis@hexparker@kdfrqqg@little-castiel13@18crazybutcutealsopsycho@olympianbeagles
Characters: Castiel, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester
Warning: None
Word Count: 1,098
Summary:Back in Heaven, Castiel asks a friend about the death of the angel and learns that the fledgling is in more danger than he thought.
Story
Nowhere does a rumor spread faster than in Heaven. Castiel has barely been gone for two days, but when he returns, the cause of death of the angel has been subjected to various opinions. He first approaches his sister Harut who is trustworthy enough and knowledgeable. She’s one of the few beings he would trust with a light secret, and he has confided in her some of those thoughts that would be frowned upon in most circles. When he inquires about the recent death, Harut is incredulous.
“You didn’t feel it?” she asks.
“No, I felt it, but I know nothing of the circumstances. There are whispers it was …” Cass hesitates as the next word has a bitter taste. “Suicide.”
“It couldn’t have been anything else if you ask me.”
“Why not?”
“They found her in the middle of a demon hideout. Chances are she walked in deliberately. She was supposed to wait for backup, and now the demons are in the wind. If it wasn’t suicide, then she was crazy, stupid, or both.”
“She?”
“You need to be more involved, Castiel. It was Haniel.”
Castiel’s entire body locks up and seems to burst into flame. His heart pounds, veins throb in his skull, and he can feel the blood drain from his face. It can’t have been Haniel. He spoke to her not a week ago.
“You okay?” Harut’s worried voice brings him out of his head.
“Haniel …”
“Were you especially close?”
“Why would Haniel commit suicide?”
“No one knows if that’s what happened.”
“What do they think?”
Harut sighs. “There are a few theories. One is that she was coerced into doing it or threatened somehow. That’s the most popular and believable explanation. Kerubiel, though … Remember Kerubiel?”
“Yes.”
After the fall a few years back, there had been unimaginable chaos. God was AWOL and doubted to return, and Michael and every other official secondary authority was dead or inaccessible. Order somehow built itself up out of the mess, manifesting in the form of bands of angels headed by bold and confident individuals. Violent altercations were common within and between these bands, even those who preached peace as the only solution. Heaven eventually reopened, and when it did, most of those bands broke apart. Those that tried to hold on to this system were shunned until they conformed, and they all did in the end. Kerubiel’s group was the exception.
Of all the bands, Kerubial and his followers were the most radical. Their views regressed by hundreds of thousands of years, and they adopted the celestial rules from when angels were the only creatures inhabiting the universe. After Heaven’s reopening, they’d been reduced to only four members – Kerubiel, Mebehiah, Nithael, and Nuriel – but remained strong, declaring themselves the enforcers of the old, “true” rules. No one really knew what to do about them, but because all they could really do was make some noise when accusing someone of violating a rule, the other angels silently and unanimously simply decided to stay out of their way.
“He was up on his soapbox again yesterday,” Harut continues. “It was funny in an embarrassing way. He thinks there’s a fledgling.”
“A fledgling?”
“If you buy into his claim, Haniel had a fledgling and killed herself out of shame. It was, and I quote, “the only correct action she could take”. He and his followers have sworn to resolve the matter.”
“What do they mean by that?”
“I assume they intend to hunt down the fledgling and the father and punish them. I suggest we all walk the other way until they cool down.”
“They’re insane. Neither one deserves death. The fledgling had no say in its creation.”
“You don’t actually believe this, do you?”
Castiel shakes his head, shakes off his incensed anger so that he might lie better. “It’s just that the law against intercourse is so old. It should be rewritten along with many of the other ancient laws.”
“Have you met Kerubiel? Those are the laws he worships. Take my advice: keep your mouth shut unless you want to attract his attention. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”
* * * * *
Hardly two weeks have gone by since Castiel convinced the Winchesters to take in the fledgling. He left them with the knowledge that she’d be killed if her existence were found out, but that was mostly a scare tactic. If he’s being honest, Cass doesn’t quite know what would happen, but he could hazard a guess. The majority of his brothers and sisters have abandoned many of the old laws, and some would be open-minded and accepting of a fledgling, but they’re all prone to support the loud one, by not intervening if not by rallying behind them. Kerubiel would kill her for sure, but any of them who believe that the creation of a fledgling is too out of line is no safer.
While she gazes up at him from her crib with her big blue eyes and sputters a contented spit bubble, Castiel feels sorry for her. She is no less deserving of life and love than any human child. He’s returned one more time this night, heart hurting still from the loss of his sister, to check on the baby. He needed to see for himself that the three-month-old is safe and that the Winchesters’ minds are still intact. Sprawled across their respective beds, they appear to be fine and enjoying a few hours of sleep while their charge doesn’t want for anything.
“If I leave for a while, will you behave?” Castiel asks the fledgling. “I must distance myself from you for your protection, but you’ll be alright. Sam and Dean will keep you safe. They’ll let no harm come to you, little one.”
The baby coos and smiles a toothless smile, rosy cheeks matching the pale pink onesie Dean has buttoned her into. With every breath she takes, she exudes the life force of an angel. Grace burns behind her eyes and courses through her tiny, delicate veins, and Cass can feel it in the hand he cups to her cheek. She’s the purest thing he’s ever seen – absolutely beautiful. The only thing more precious than a human soul is a life such as this one.
Reluctantly, the angel takes his hand back. In the corner of the room he lingers, watching over the others until the fledgling succumbs to sleep, and then he’s gone, vanished as a quick as a breeze, and no one knows he was ever here.
@pureawesomeness001 @27bmm @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @super-not-naturall@gabriel-themightysugaraddict@mogaruke@mrswhozeewhatsis@hexparker@kdfrqqg@little-castiel13@18crazybutcutealsopsycho@olympianbeagles
