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janie_tangerineTitle: How Castiel Got Lost In LOST (or, how an angel of the Lord faced the Smoke Monster, among the rest)
Rating: PG13
Characters: Castiel, Dean and Sam for SPN; Sayid, Sawyer, Smokey, Jacob and a few guest stars for Lost
Words: 3333 (really.)
Summary: the Trickster sends Castiel on the island. Chaos ensues.
Spoilers: heavy for 5x08 for SPN; set in late S2 for Lost, but there's a character from the S5 finale.
Disclaimer: SPN is not mine and Lost is not mine either. Why, you had any doubts?
A/N: this is crack on a stick. More or less. And I can blame at least three or four people from my FL who totally didn't try to dissuade me from writing this. Anyway, a couple of other shows are mentioned in passing. And... just, alright, I have no excuses except for SPN handing me this on a silver plate and Lost being crazy stuff.
Castiel can’t really manage to feel relieved for having found Dean and Sam; as soon as he raises his hands to bring them out of that madness, something stops him and suddenly he isn’t there anymore.
This definitely is not a trickster’s work, he thinks as he opens his eyes and tries to see where he ended up.
It cannot be worse than that strange spaceship where a guy with a gun he called Vera threatened to shoot him, or that weird but cozy nice bakery where they had pies that Dean would have loved, or the hospital with the strange doctor with the cane; he had passed through all of those and more before reaching the Winchesters.
When Castiel realizes that he’s on what looks like a tropical island or a jungle, he blinks. Then when nothing changes, he blinks again.
“Well,” he says to himself since he can’t see anyone around, “this is indeed not fun.” Really, it’s not. He’s about to take a step forward when he perceives that something is wrong; he kneels down and carefully brushes some leaves away from the jungle floor.
And that? Definitely a trap. He touches it with one hand before withdrawing it and appearing a few feet back; a net appears out of nowhere and he realizes that if he had walked on that, he’d have probably been trapped in there.
What’s this craziness?
Castiel doesn’t really have a good feeling about this. He should get back to where Sam and Dean are, maybe if he concentrates he could still sense Dean; this is really too dangerous for the both of them and he doesn’t have time for this nonsense.
He’s about to attempt the task when he feels a gun pointed behind his head and he raises his hands automatically. He’s sure he would not die if he was shot, but it’d be unnecessary nuisance and really, he doesn’t have time for this.
“Look at who’s here. Who the fuck are you, another Hostile?”
The voice is deep, low, and definitely not friendly. Castiel would really rather disappear somewhere else, but he still hasn’t sensed Dean (this place is powerful and there’s not much he can do, there’s a reason why it took him days to trace Dean and Sam in the beginning) and he doesn’t know the surroundings. Maybe he can convince this man that he isn’t a threat and rationally and calmly explain the problem. And get some help.
Also, what are Hostiles anyway?
“I do not know why you would assume it, but I can assure you that I’m not hostile towards anyone.”
“The fuck?” the voice says again, and then something hits Castiel’s temple and everything goes black.
This is so not his day.
--
When he wakes up, he’s sitting in a small room whose walls are covered in firearms and his wrists are bound; his head sort of hurts.
And in front of him there’s another man; his skin is dark, he has curly dark hair tied in a ponytail, dark brown eyes staring at Castiel and some device in his hand that Castiel doesn’t recognize but that does not mean anything good.
Where did he end up, again?
“What does this mean?” Castiel asks, wishing he had enough energy left to get away. But either he does that or he traces Dean and then goes; he resolves to buy time for now as he tries to find the Winchesters and then he’ll just do his disappearing act, as Dean calls it.
The man kneels and gets right into what Dean would call Castiel’s personal space, his expression neutral and a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes on his lips.
“I believe that in this situation, as you can see, I am the one asking questions. And I would really like to ask you a couple. So, are you an Hostile? Do not lie about that. I can see it, if you do.”
“I do not even know what do you mean. I can assure you, as I have already stated to a person who I guess is a friend of yours, that I do not have any hostile intentions towards you or him or anyone else.”
“Really. Well, your clothing does support your argument, since as far as we know no Hostiles wear suits or that kind of coat, but that’s not really enough. If you are not an Hostile, who are you? And what are you doing here?”
Castiel can still read people, and well, while this man has a certain dark aurea about him, he can sense that he is a good person and that he isn’t having fun doing this. Also, Castiel would rather avoid any kind of torture here, since he figures that’s what the device in the man’s hand is for; he settles on telling the truth, even if following Dean’s advice, right now he should lie. But he doesn’t think he has enough imagination to come up with a plausible lie, considering that he doesn’t even know what’s this place.
“My name is Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord.” He decides to skip over his latest disagreements with his family. “I was on a mission helping two friends who ended up trapped in a parallel universe and while attempting the task our common enemy sent me here. I really do not know what this place is or who you are, and I am not even attempting to stay. I will leave as soon as...”
The main raises a hand and stares at him right in the eyes.
“An angel of the Lord. Oh, this just beats...”
“I can give you some proof,” Castiel says; he wishes things were like they were last time he walked this Earth, when people weren’t just so skeptical. But he can feel it; this man once was a man of faith and he still has some, Castiel thinks; he might convince him.
“Then show me.”
Castiel sighs, wishing he shouldn’t have to spend his energy doing this, but he needs to get out of this situation and he’s thankful for the room having the exactly right lightening.
He can see that the man has seen the shadow of his wings from his expression; his lip trembles for a second, then he’s out of the room slamming the door.
He concentrates on the shouting he hears from outside the room.
“Prince Feisal, what the fuck? An angel? You’re goin’ crazy. You’re so goin’ crazy.”
“Sawyer, I can assure you that, whatever he is, he is not lying. I could just see it. And he... I have seen wings!”
“Oh, that’s just fuckin’ crazy. After that Gale sonofabitch shot them everyone’s been goin’ crazy. Wings? The fuck?”
“Sawyer, calm down,” another voice interrupts. “Sayid, you’re really sure about what you said?”
“Jack, I am. And I am not going to harm that man in any way. That’s settled.”
Castiel lets out a breath of relief.
“You said wings?” a fourth voice interrupts. “That has to mean something. It has to. It has to be a sign from the island. It can’t be...”
“John, can you just shut up?” the man Castiel believes is Jack says, and then a beeping starts.
What?
“Just go push that button, won’t you?” Jack says, and there’s a noise of someone moving.
Push a button? What’s this madness, again?
“Doc, this is shit. Y’know what, I’m gonna have a couple words with angel-boy myself,” the voice that should belong to this Sawyer person says, and Castiel recognized the man who stopped him in the jungle. Three seconds after, a tall, blond man enters the room; he’s dressed in a flannel very much similar to the ones Sam wears, he has sharp green-blue eyes and does not look pleased at all.
“So, you might have fooled our resident Iraqi over there, but I ain’t the one who gets fooled easily. And sure as fuck you won’t win me over with angel crap.”
Castiel thinks that this one resembles Dean way too much for his liking; except that he has a fatalism to himself that not even Dean has. Which is worrying enough. Or well, maybe last year, but lately Dean has kind of half-overcome it. This one looks far, far from it.
“So, who the hell are you?”
“I am what I said I was. My name is Castiel, and I am an angel of the Lord.”
“Yeah, ‘course, and then you stare at people with those baby-blues of yours, but you ain’t foolin’ me. Who are you, for the last fucking time?”
And then Castiel does the wrong thing.
Dean had told him not to.
But he really can’t resist. Because it took staring into this man’s eyes for ten seconds to see it all, and maybe if he can bring him some comfort he will believe Castiel. And after all, what Dean said was valid with hookers only, right? And while Castiel thinks that this man has a mostly illegal occupation, he surely cannot be a hooker.
“James, your father never hated you. You should know that.”
“Son of a bitch!” the guy shouts before punching Castiel hard in the nose. He goes out and slams the door as he does it, but then Castiel finally finds Dean’s presence and doesn’t have time to think about the dull pain taking hold of him. He needs to hurry. He gets free of his restraints, they really were there just because he wasn’t trying to get out of them, then closes his eyes and when the door opens again, four people standing outside, the room is empty.
--
He doesn’t have time to feel shocked when he realizes that they’re fighting against Gabriel; one second he was in the room and the other he was back in that godforsaken jungle. At least his hands are free. He rips the duct tape out of his mouth, feeling so sick that he could throw up if he was human; it’s Gabriel, and all that time they have thought he was gone and instead...
He doesn’t have time to think about it. He needs to hide and make sure no one finds him again, except that at a certain point he turns and sees Dean standing among the trees, a few feet from him.
Castiel blinks.
This is so not his day.
“Whover you are, do not even try it. You are not Dean Winchester. You cannot be. So show yourself for who you are.”
As soon as he says it, he wishes he hadn’t.
Because instead of Dean, in front of him there’s a big, black cloud of smoke, which is not moving but looks like it might attack him any second.
What’s this place? he thinks as he watches the thing with wide eyes, because surely he has never encountered such an entity.
And Castiel has been around for millennia if not more, so well. It’s not exactly easy to surprise him.
Really. If Gabriel has sent him into another television program, which has to be the answer because that’s what he has been up to... Castiel wonders who is crazier, the people who write this or the people who watch it. Smoke monsters? On a tropical island? Really?
Anyway. The thing looks very much like a demon, but Castiel has a feeling that it’s not.
Trying won’t hurt, though. He raises his hand towards the thing, uses the other one to make the sign of the cross and wishes he had some holy water on his person. He doesn’t, though.
“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica, in nomine et virtute Domini Nostri Jesu Christi, eradicare et effugare a Dei Ecclesia, ab animabus ad imaginem Dei conditis ac pretioso divini Agni sanguine redemptis...”
The thing lurches forward towards him and slams him against a tree before retreating; Castiel feels blood rising in his mouth and no, exorcisms definitely will not work against this.
Also, why is it apparently trying to get into his mouth?
Castiel ducks on his left just before the smoke comes forward again; if it isn’t a demon, it surely does work like one. Then it’s around his ankle and dragging him forward along the jungle floor; Castiel tastes dirt and he knows his hands are going to get bloody because he’s gripping on earth as much as he can, but still the thing drags him forward. Castiel tries to slow it down but his powers are somehow diminished in this setting and there’s just so much that he can do.
He really can’t believe that Gabriel would send him to his death like this; but he can’t allow himself to go. He has his Father to find, he has to help Dean and Sam if he can, he has to stop an apocalypse that he shouldn’t have helped starting and it will not be a... a... a smoke monster stopping him. He turns on his back and sees that the thing is dragging him towards a hole in the ground, even though it isn’t just a hole. It’s like some sort of well without an external structure. Definitely excavated, and definitely made of rocks.
Castiel feels blood under his nails as he sticks his hands into the ground, slowing the thing down further; he needs to think, here. Not so easy, since the thing is emitting a noise that is uttermost distracting. Alright, he thinks taking a shallow breath that he doesn’t need, if it’s made of rocks and that abomination is already partly inside it...
Maybe...
He raises one hand from the ground, gripping harder with the other, and concentrates hard, even if his head hurts and his nose is probably bleeding (not to mention that it still hurts and he can taste the duct tape on his lips). He needs to make those rocks crumble on themselves. He concentrates harder, his hands are hurting so much that he doesn’t think he’s going to last much longer, and then he knows he managed it when the earth shakes and it’s not because of the monster.
Yes, he thinks as the rocks start to fall all over themselves and that thing; when Castiel is just a few feet from the hole, the monster disappears and everything is filled in earth and debris.
Castiel is pretty sure that while he might have won this round, he can’t possibly have killed that thing; he decides to find a quiet place to rest for a second and gather his energy back, even if he has an idea that quiet places don’t exist on this island.
“That was impressive,” he hears from behind his back.
“For once you’re right. Seriously, what. That was even better than when it had eyesex with that sick fuck of yours.”
“Shannon, Locke is definitely not mine. And ew. I could have done without that image.”
“Yeah, sure, and then why you’re... hey, I think he’s seeing us.”
Yes, Castiel is seeing them; a young man with huge blue eyes and dark brown hair whose body is covered in blood and a young, tall blonde dressed in pink and who was evidently shot in the stomach, since there’s a pretty fresh wound in there.
Ghosts. He thinks they’re definitely ghosts.
“Hey, feathers, you’re seeing us?”
“How did you call me?” Castiel asks, and she lets out a chuckle.
“You’ve got angel written all over your face. Even though I didn’t know angels wore Columbo trench coats.”
“Shannon! Show the guy some respect, seriously.”
Yes, Castiel thinks, I could use some. Especially from Gabriel, he concludes in his head.
“Seriously, man, that was huge. Sorry that you’re stuck here though, I guess you realized it isn’t that nice of a tropical vacation.”
“That, I did,” Castiel agrees. “Which is why I will try to leave as soon as possible. But could I ask who you are?”
The young man smiles softly before nodding. “I’m Boone. She’s Shannon, my sister. And yeah, you should really leave. That isn’t a place you want to stay long in.”
They disappear soon after and Castiel takes a breath and starts walking in the opposite direction.
“Impressive, indeed.”
He turns and oh, no, in front of him there’s a blond man dressed in white who looks dangerously like the vessel Lucifer chose; how is it even possible that...
Why is it that Dean’s amulet, which is against his neck, is not burning but is slightly warm?
“Calm down. I’m not Lucifer. Not here, anyway. I just wanted to say that I am indeed impressed. There aren’t many people capable of doing such a thing, around here. And I’m sure that he isn’t very happy with it.”
“He?”
“Oh, don’t worry. This isn’t your world, Castiel. You don’t need to be concerned with anything going on here. But still, that was remarkable.”
“Wait, who are you? And what...”
“You can call me Jacob,” the man answers before disappearing.
And then Castiel is alone again even if he thinks he can hear whispers in the background and he realizes he can’t locate Dean anymore even if he tries; he rubs a hand over his eyes, feeling frustrated and like he has reached the breaking point because this is just crazy, and then...
He blinks and he’s in a warehouse, Dean and Sam in front of him and Gabriel trapped in a ring of fire like the one where he and Dean trapped Raphael.
“Cas, you okay?” Dean asks turning in his direction, and Castiel could say a lot of things but he really isn’t in any mood to share.
“I’m fine,” he answers. “Hello, Gabriel,” he adds then, and he hopes that everything he needs to say is readable in his eyes.
--
He climbs in the backseat of the car wordlessly; if he closes his eyes, he just sees that black thing dragging him forward, a man desperately seeking redemption and another wearing a mask he was getting tired of with every passing second.
--
“So, Cas, where did he send you?” Dean asks when they’re all sitting in this diner he has stopped at some three towns later. Castiel is drinking some coffee even if he doesn’t exactly need it; right now he needs it, though.
“I... I do not know exactly. I was on an island. And there was a... a thing that looked like a demon but was not a demon. There were ghosts around and a room with an armory and a man I believe from Iraq and one whose father shot his wife and then killed himself... And they needed to push a button, I believe, but I did not get the purpose.”
Dean and Sam look at each other, then at Castiel, then at each other.
“Jesus Christ,” Sam says.
“Of course we get the sitcom and the crime procedural shows...”
“And the herpes commercial,” Sam hisses.
“... not to mention that your brother messed with my guilty pleasure... and you get the coolest thing that ever was on TV?”
“That was the... coolest thing ever seen on TV?” Castiel asks then, not really bothering to hide his surprise.
Cool was so not the adjective he would have chosen to describe such an experience.
“Dude, you were in fucking Lost! 'Course it is! Crap, he could have sent us there for like five minutes. I’ve been dreaming of pushing that button for ages, dude.”
Well, Castiel thinks as he shrugs and sips a bit of his coffee, at least the name is absolutely fitting. If Dean now is ranting about the good old times being over and not really getting the time travel business, and Sam is agreeing with him for once, at least Castiel is glad that they’re having fun.
Because sorry, but he did not have fun in there. Surely not.
Seriously, smoke monsters on a tropical island.
Humans are crazy.
Rating: PG13
Characters: Castiel, Dean and Sam for SPN; Sayid, Sawyer, Smokey, Jacob and a few guest stars for Lost
Words: 3333 (really.)
Summary: the Trickster sends Castiel on the island. Chaos ensues.
Spoilers: heavy for 5x08 for SPN; set in late S2 for Lost, but there's a character from the S5 finale.
Disclaimer: SPN is not mine and Lost is not mine either. Why, you had any doubts?
A/N: this is crack on a stick. More or less. And I can blame at least three or four people from my FL who totally didn't try to dissuade me from writing this. Anyway, a couple of other shows are mentioned in passing. And... just, alright, I have no excuses except for SPN handing me this on a silver plate and Lost being crazy stuff.
Castiel can’t really manage to feel relieved for having found Dean and Sam; as soon as he raises his hands to bring them out of that madness, something stops him and suddenly he isn’t there anymore.
This definitely is not a trickster’s work, he thinks as he opens his eyes and tries to see where he ended up.
It cannot be worse than that strange spaceship where a guy with a gun he called Vera threatened to shoot him, or that weird but cozy nice bakery where they had pies that Dean would have loved, or the hospital with the strange doctor with the cane; he had passed through all of those and more before reaching the Winchesters.
When Castiel realizes that he’s on what looks like a tropical island or a jungle, he blinks. Then when nothing changes, he blinks again.
“Well,” he says to himself since he can’t see anyone around, “this is indeed not fun.” Really, it’s not. He’s about to take a step forward when he perceives that something is wrong; he kneels down and carefully brushes some leaves away from the jungle floor.
And that? Definitely a trap. He touches it with one hand before withdrawing it and appearing a few feet back; a net appears out of nowhere and he realizes that if he had walked on that, he’d have probably been trapped in there.
What’s this craziness?
Castiel doesn’t really have a good feeling about this. He should get back to where Sam and Dean are, maybe if he concentrates he could still sense Dean; this is really too dangerous for the both of them and he doesn’t have time for this nonsense.
He’s about to attempt the task when he feels a gun pointed behind his head and he raises his hands automatically. He’s sure he would not die if he was shot, but it’d be unnecessary nuisance and really, he doesn’t have time for this.
“Look at who’s here. Who the fuck are you, another Hostile?”
The voice is deep, low, and definitely not friendly. Castiel would really rather disappear somewhere else, but he still hasn’t sensed Dean (this place is powerful and there’s not much he can do, there’s a reason why it took him days to trace Dean and Sam in the beginning) and he doesn’t know the surroundings. Maybe he can convince this man that he isn’t a threat and rationally and calmly explain the problem. And get some help.
Also, what are Hostiles anyway?
“I do not know why you would assume it, but I can assure you that I’m not hostile towards anyone.”
“The fuck?” the voice says again, and then something hits Castiel’s temple and everything goes black.
This is so not his day.
--
When he wakes up, he’s sitting in a small room whose walls are covered in firearms and his wrists are bound; his head sort of hurts.
And in front of him there’s another man; his skin is dark, he has curly dark hair tied in a ponytail, dark brown eyes staring at Castiel and some device in his hand that Castiel doesn’t recognize but that does not mean anything good.
Where did he end up, again?
“What does this mean?” Castiel asks, wishing he had enough energy left to get away. But either he does that or he traces Dean and then goes; he resolves to buy time for now as he tries to find the Winchesters and then he’ll just do his disappearing act, as Dean calls it.
The man kneels and gets right into what Dean would call Castiel’s personal space, his expression neutral and a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes on his lips.
“I believe that in this situation, as you can see, I am the one asking questions. And I would really like to ask you a couple. So, are you an Hostile? Do not lie about that. I can see it, if you do.”
“I do not even know what do you mean. I can assure you, as I have already stated to a person who I guess is a friend of yours, that I do not have any hostile intentions towards you or him or anyone else.”
“Really. Well, your clothing does support your argument, since as far as we know no Hostiles wear suits or that kind of coat, but that’s not really enough. If you are not an Hostile, who are you? And what are you doing here?”
Castiel can still read people, and well, while this man has a certain dark aurea about him, he can sense that he is a good person and that he isn’t having fun doing this. Also, Castiel would rather avoid any kind of torture here, since he figures that’s what the device in the man’s hand is for; he settles on telling the truth, even if following Dean’s advice, right now he should lie. But he doesn’t think he has enough imagination to come up with a plausible lie, considering that he doesn’t even know what’s this place.
“My name is Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord.” He decides to skip over his latest disagreements with his family. “I was on a mission helping two friends who ended up trapped in a parallel universe and while attempting the task our common enemy sent me here. I really do not know what this place is or who you are, and I am not even attempting to stay. I will leave as soon as...”
The main raises a hand and stares at him right in the eyes.
“An angel of the Lord. Oh, this just beats...”
“I can give you some proof,” Castiel says; he wishes things were like they were last time he walked this Earth, when people weren’t just so skeptical. But he can feel it; this man once was a man of faith and he still has some, Castiel thinks; he might convince him.
“Then show me.”
Castiel sighs, wishing he shouldn’t have to spend his energy doing this, but he needs to get out of this situation and he’s thankful for the room having the exactly right lightening.
He can see that the man has seen the shadow of his wings from his expression; his lip trembles for a second, then he’s out of the room slamming the door.
He concentrates on the shouting he hears from outside the room.
“Prince Feisal, what the fuck? An angel? You’re goin’ crazy. You’re so goin’ crazy.”
“Sawyer, I can assure you that, whatever he is, he is not lying. I could just see it. And he... I have seen wings!”
“Oh, that’s just fuckin’ crazy. After that Gale sonofabitch shot them everyone’s been goin’ crazy. Wings? The fuck?”
“Sawyer, calm down,” another voice interrupts. “Sayid, you’re really sure about what you said?”
“Jack, I am. And I am not going to harm that man in any way. That’s settled.”
Castiel lets out a breath of relief.
“You said wings?” a fourth voice interrupts. “That has to mean something. It has to. It has to be a sign from the island. It can’t be...”
“John, can you just shut up?” the man Castiel believes is Jack says, and then a beeping starts.
What?
“Just go push that button, won’t you?” Jack says, and there’s a noise of someone moving.
Push a button? What’s this madness, again?
“Doc, this is shit. Y’know what, I’m gonna have a couple words with angel-boy myself,” the voice that should belong to this Sawyer person says, and Castiel recognized the man who stopped him in the jungle. Three seconds after, a tall, blond man enters the room; he’s dressed in a flannel very much similar to the ones Sam wears, he has sharp green-blue eyes and does not look pleased at all.
“So, you might have fooled our resident Iraqi over there, but I ain’t the one who gets fooled easily. And sure as fuck you won’t win me over with angel crap.”
Castiel thinks that this one resembles Dean way too much for his liking; except that he has a fatalism to himself that not even Dean has. Which is worrying enough. Or well, maybe last year, but lately Dean has kind of half-overcome it. This one looks far, far from it.
“So, who the hell are you?”
“I am what I said I was. My name is Castiel, and I am an angel of the Lord.”
“Yeah, ‘course, and then you stare at people with those baby-blues of yours, but you ain’t foolin’ me. Who are you, for the last fucking time?”
And then Castiel does the wrong thing.
Dean had told him not to.
But he really can’t resist. Because it took staring into this man’s eyes for ten seconds to see it all, and maybe if he can bring him some comfort he will believe Castiel. And after all, what Dean said was valid with hookers only, right? And while Castiel thinks that this man has a mostly illegal occupation, he surely cannot be a hooker.
“James, your father never hated you. You should know that.”
“Son of a bitch!” the guy shouts before punching Castiel hard in the nose. He goes out and slams the door as he does it, but then Castiel finally finds Dean’s presence and doesn’t have time to think about the dull pain taking hold of him. He needs to hurry. He gets free of his restraints, they really were there just because he wasn’t trying to get out of them, then closes his eyes and when the door opens again, four people standing outside, the room is empty.
--
He doesn’t have time to feel shocked when he realizes that they’re fighting against Gabriel; one second he was in the room and the other he was back in that godforsaken jungle. At least his hands are free. He rips the duct tape out of his mouth, feeling so sick that he could throw up if he was human; it’s Gabriel, and all that time they have thought he was gone and instead...
He doesn’t have time to think about it. He needs to hide and make sure no one finds him again, except that at a certain point he turns and sees Dean standing among the trees, a few feet from him.
Castiel blinks.
This is so not his day.
“Whover you are, do not even try it. You are not Dean Winchester. You cannot be. So show yourself for who you are.”
As soon as he says it, he wishes he hadn’t.
Because instead of Dean, in front of him there’s a big, black cloud of smoke, which is not moving but looks like it might attack him any second.
What’s this place? he thinks as he watches the thing with wide eyes, because surely he has never encountered such an entity.
And Castiel has been around for millennia if not more, so well. It’s not exactly easy to surprise him.
Really. If Gabriel has sent him into another television program, which has to be the answer because that’s what he has been up to... Castiel wonders who is crazier, the people who write this or the people who watch it. Smoke monsters? On a tropical island? Really?
Anyway. The thing looks very much like a demon, but Castiel has a feeling that it’s not.
Trying won’t hurt, though. He raises his hand towards the thing, uses the other one to make the sign of the cross and wishes he had some holy water on his person. He doesn’t, though.
“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica, in nomine et virtute Domini Nostri Jesu Christi, eradicare et effugare a Dei Ecclesia, ab animabus ad imaginem Dei conditis ac pretioso divini Agni sanguine redemptis...”
The thing lurches forward towards him and slams him against a tree before retreating; Castiel feels blood rising in his mouth and no, exorcisms definitely will not work against this.
Also, why is it apparently trying to get into his mouth?
Castiel ducks on his left just before the smoke comes forward again; if it isn’t a demon, it surely does work like one. Then it’s around his ankle and dragging him forward along the jungle floor; Castiel tastes dirt and he knows his hands are going to get bloody because he’s gripping on earth as much as he can, but still the thing drags him forward. Castiel tries to slow it down but his powers are somehow diminished in this setting and there’s just so much that he can do.
He really can’t believe that Gabriel would send him to his death like this; but he can’t allow himself to go. He has his Father to find, he has to help Dean and Sam if he can, he has to stop an apocalypse that he shouldn’t have helped starting and it will not be a... a... a smoke monster stopping him. He turns on his back and sees that the thing is dragging him towards a hole in the ground, even though it isn’t just a hole. It’s like some sort of well without an external structure. Definitely excavated, and definitely made of rocks.
Castiel feels blood under his nails as he sticks his hands into the ground, slowing the thing down further; he needs to think, here. Not so easy, since the thing is emitting a noise that is uttermost distracting. Alright, he thinks taking a shallow breath that he doesn’t need, if it’s made of rocks and that abomination is already partly inside it...
Maybe...
He raises one hand from the ground, gripping harder with the other, and concentrates hard, even if his head hurts and his nose is probably bleeding (not to mention that it still hurts and he can taste the duct tape on his lips). He needs to make those rocks crumble on themselves. He concentrates harder, his hands are hurting so much that he doesn’t think he’s going to last much longer, and then he knows he managed it when the earth shakes and it’s not because of the monster.
Yes, he thinks as the rocks start to fall all over themselves and that thing; when Castiel is just a few feet from the hole, the monster disappears and everything is filled in earth and debris.
Castiel is pretty sure that while he might have won this round, he can’t possibly have killed that thing; he decides to find a quiet place to rest for a second and gather his energy back, even if he has an idea that quiet places don’t exist on this island.
“That was impressive,” he hears from behind his back.
“For once you’re right. Seriously, what. That was even better than when it had eyesex with that sick fuck of yours.”
“Shannon, Locke is definitely not mine. And ew. I could have done without that image.”
“Yeah, sure, and then why you’re... hey, I think he’s seeing us.”
Yes, Castiel is seeing them; a young man with huge blue eyes and dark brown hair whose body is covered in blood and a young, tall blonde dressed in pink and who was evidently shot in the stomach, since there’s a pretty fresh wound in there.
Ghosts. He thinks they’re definitely ghosts.
“Hey, feathers, you’re seeing us?”
“How did you call me?” Castiel asks, and she lets out a chuckle.
“You’ve got angel written all over your face. Even though I didn’t know angels wore Columbo trench coats.”
“Shannon! Show the guy some respect, seriously.”
Yes, Castiel thinks, I could use some. Especially from Gabriel, he concludes in his head.
“Seriously, man, that was huge. Sorry that you’re stuck here though, I guess you realized it isn’t that nice of a tropical vacation.”
“That, I did,” Castiel agrees. “Which is why I will try to leave as soon as possible. But could I ask who you are?”
The young man smiles softly before nodding. “I’m Boone. She’s Shannon, my sister. And yeah, you should really leave. That isn’t a place you want to stay long in.”
They disappear soon after and Castiel takes a breath and starts walking in the opposite direction.
“Impressive, indeed.”
He turns and oh, no, in front of him there’s a blond man dressed in white who looks dangerously like the vessel Lucifer chose; how is it even possible that...
Why is it that Dean’s amulet, which is against his neck, is not burning but is slightly warm?
“Calm down. I’m not Lucifer. Not here, anyway. I just wanted to say that I am indeed impressed. There aren’t many people capable of doing such a thing, around here. And I’m sure that he isn’t very happy with it.”
“He?”
“Oh, don’t worry. This isn’t your world, Castiel. You don’t need to be concerned with anything going on here. But still, that was remarkable.”
“Wait, who are you? And what...”
“You can call me Jacob,” the man answers before disappearing.
And then Castiel is alone again even if he thinks he can hear whispers in the background and he realizes he can’t locate Dean anymore even if he tries; he rubs a hand over his eyes, feeling frustrated and like he has reached the breaking point because this is just crazy, and then...
He blinks and he’s in a warehouse, Dean and Sam in front of him and Gabriel trapped in a ring of fire like the one where he and Dean trapped Raphael.
“Cas, you okay?” Dean asks turning in his direction, and Castiel could say a lot of things but he really isn’t in any mood to share.
“I’m fine,” he answers. “Hello, Gabriel,” he adds then, and he hopes that everything he needs to say is readable in his eyes.
--
He climbs in the backseat of the car wordlessly; if he closes his eyes, he just sees that black thing dragging him forward, a man desperately seeking redemption and another wearing a mask he was getting tired of with every passing second.
--
“So, Cas, where did he send you?” Dean asks when they’re all sitting in this diner he has stopped at some three towns later. Castiel is drinking some coffee even if he doesn’t exactly need it; right now he needs it, though.
“I... I do not know exactly. I was on an island. And there was a... a thing that looked like a demon but was not a demon. There were ghosts around and a room with an armory and a man I believe from Iraq and one whose father shot his wife and then killed himself... And they needed to push a button, I believe, but I did not get the purpose.”
Dean and Sam look at each other, then at Castiel, then at each other.
“Jesus Christ,” Sam says.
“Of course we get the sitcom and the crime procedural shows...”
“And the herpes commercial,” Sam hisses.
“... not to mention that your brother messed with my guilty pleasure... and you get the coolest thing that ever was on TV?”
“That was the... coolest thing ever seen on TV?” Castiel asks then, not really bothering to hide his surprise.
Cool was so not the adjective he would have chosen to describe such an experience.
“Dude, you were in fucking Lost! 'Course it is! Crap, he could have sent us there for like five minutes. I’ve been dreaming of pushing that button for ages, dude.”
Well, Castiel thinks as he shrugs and sips a bit of his coffee, at least the name is absolutely fitting. If Dean now is ranting about the good old times being over and not really getting the time travel business, and Sam is agreeing with him for once, at least Castiel is glad that they’re having fun.
Because sorry, but he did not have fun in there. Surely not.
Seriously, smoke monsters on a tropical island.
Humans are crazy.
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no subject
Date: 2010-11-06 02:39 pm (UTC)This is totally where Gabriel sent Cas. What I want from S6 is Changing Channels v2.0 in which they end up on Lost. And they need to let you write it.
I love the way you wrote Cas and all of the Lost character - gah, it's so great. And of course Dean and Sam are fans, lol! DEAN HAS BEEN DREAMING ABOUT PUSHING THE BUTTON. BRB WRITING THAT FIC.
Castiel wonders who is crazier, the people who write this or the people who watch it. Smoke monsters? On a tropical island? Really?
LOL TRUE STORY. I vote is for the people who watch it. For real.
ALSO THISSS -- or the hospital with the strange doctor with the cane ♥ ♥
IN SHORT, YOU ARE A FREAKING GENIUS.
no subject
Date: 2010-11-06 04:39 pm (UTC)ALSO YEP GABRIEL TOTALLY SENT CAS THERE AND IF THEY LET ME WRITE THAT EP I'LL MAKE IT WORTH IT. ;)
Also eee, writing Cas with everyone else was a blast. Sawyer especially. But idk I was just going with the flow. And OF COURSE DEAN HAS BEEN DREAMING TO PUSH THE BUTTON. GO WRITE THAT FIC I TOTALLY GIVE YOU MY BLESSING. :DDDDD
Oh, I agree with you. I vote for the people who watch it too. ;) ;)
Castiel/House would be almost as crack as this but I watch House too randomly to even try to write it. xDD
IN SHORT THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH! :DDD YOU'RE TOO NICE REALLY.