Fic: Prophet [SPN/SGA]
Nov. 14th, 2008 04:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
iliaFirst: Advent Calendar Go. Request. Now. Yes, I'm talking to you, person who is reading this and wondering if it applies to them.
Title/Prompt: Prophet
Fandom: Supernatural/Stargate: Atlantis
Characters/Pairing: Dean Winchester/Castiel, Rodney McKay.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1628
Notes: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
sacred_20. I started writing this long before 4x09, but the episode just pushed me to finish it. Also, I apologize, Rodney really stole the show here. I think I'm definitely going to stick exclusively to interactions between Dean and Castiel in the future.
Acknowledgment: Thanks, as always, to the fantastic![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
darksilvercat for the beta services that provide the masses with fic in much better condition.
Summary: Dean and Castiel are confronted by an angry prophet.
--------
One of the great things about Castiel, Dean had found, was that he had some kind of mojo that discouraged people from approaching them or even giving them attention when they were discussing demons, seals and the Apocalypse in public.
So it was a little surprising (in that, 'oh shit, I just stepped in dog crap' way) when a guy stalked right up to them, planted his feet, and raised his chin in what Dean guesses is meant to be tough gesture or something. The guy, thinning hair and narrowed blue eyes, passed muster at first glance but then you noticed that the crossed arms which should have made him seem broader only made him seem defensive--especially with how, under closer observation, they trembled faintly--and the sweat at his temples only brought attention to how pale the guy was.
"What are you doing here?" the guy hisses at Castiel.
Dean's first thought is that this was someone who'd been searching for the host.
"Meredith," Castiel says evenly. "I am surprised that you would approach me."
Meredith (wow, his childhood must have sucked) glares, his arms unclench and his hand start waving energetically, emphasizing his words. "Yes, because clearly I'm insane enough to do anything but run the other way whenever I see any of you. Who the hell do you take me for? Constantine? I'm much more intelligent than that bastard. But you, you shouldn't be here." And Meredith looks a little sick and a little crazy around the eyes and Dean finally gets it.
"You can see him?" the question sneaks past his lips.
Meredith's attention is now on him (and wow, now he has to rethink his evaluation because this guy just walked over and mouthed off to an angel. That took balls.) and his face doesn't hide what he's thinking, which isn't much of Dean apparently. "Yes, I can. Though I'm guessing you can't, because you wouldn't--" Meredith broke off, ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Would someone tell my why there's a full-blooded angel walking around like he's got a fucking daypass?"
"Full-blooded?" Dean looks to Castiel who has yet to say anything and instead simply watches the both of them with unblinking eyes.
Meredith actually looks speechless. Switching his gaze from Dean to Castiel and back. "Is he another of your toy soldiers? If so, your standards have lapsed."
Castiel, bird-like, tilts his head and Dean could almost swear that's a smile lurking at the corner of his mouth. "You've grown, Meredith." It sounds like approval to Dean. "This is not the place for this," Castiel continues with his usual solemnity as he turns and starts making his way out of the playground where he'd come to meet Dean.
"Did you just call me fat?" Meredith questions suspiciously as he follows the angel at a distance.
Dean double takes. It's so fucking insane he wants to laugh. He wonders whether Sammy'll believe him.
***
"So who the hell are you anyway?" Dean asks as soon as they're inside the privacy of a pretty sweet hotel room (about ten times better than the crappy motels he and Sam ended up in). It was obvious the guy wasn't a hunter and the pricey room just cinches it.
Meredith ignores the question, as he strides from point A to point B, from the door to the coffeepot.
"If you want to know, ask him," is Meredith's irascible answer.
Dean turns to Castiel with an inquiring look.
Castiel is preternaturally still, his eyes intense and focused completely on Dean as he speaks. "Meredith is blessed--"
Meredith makes a derisive sound as he sips his coffee. Castiel continues without acknowledging it.
"He is able to perceive the true forms of divine beings, he can bear the weight of true angelic speech, he can discern our very essence." Dean can't help but feel a little disturbed. Castiel sounds a little bit...reverent. Freaky.
"Typical," Meredith mutters, drawing their attention. He glares at Castiel before turning heated eyes on Dean. "He makes it sound so incredible, so miraculous. What he neglected to mention was the fact that I could also see, hear and perceive the other side as well, in all its disgusting and depraved glory. Blessed? Fucking cursed more like it."
Castiel despite his mild expression manages to emanate displeasure. "It is a boon He gave humans," he reaffirms, solid in his belief.
"Oh, don't give me that. It's a painted target on every blessed human." Meredith advances, his tone becoming increasingly sardonic. "Because, if someone sees an angel and that angel sees you, what's the harm, right? It's not as if they'll draft you into their war. And if they refuse? Well, leave them to fend for themselves. So, when they see a demon, when a demon finds out about this rarity of a human, someone who can see them, who knows--well, it's too bad they didn't choose to fight the good fight. Everyone knows how much demons like new toys to play with!" Meredith ends with a roar. He's breathing heavily and flushed with rage. Castiel simply looks impassive.
Dean watches as Meredith's fingers clench, how his jaw tightens and figures he should intervene before the guy takes a shot. He can sympathize. The number of times he's wanted to deck Castiel just to get some reaction, to wipe that look of indifference off his face--wonderful, now Dean's worked up, too.
But Meredith unwinds, turns his back on Castiel as if he's trying to ignore and deny his existence. He presses unsteady hands to his face and laughs bitterly. "Christ, the amount of people that have committed suicide, been committed, or just hunted down--most don't make it past their teens, you know," Meredith informs Dean.
Dean is uncomfortable and completely at a loss about what to say about learning another shitty fact about the crappy world (but he's not surprised, not even a little bit. Of course there are people out there being screwed over like this. It makes perfect sense in a universe where Hell is a proven fact).
"But that doesn't matter right now. I'd really like to know why he's here." Meredith barely acknowledges Castiel with a wave of his hand.
"To stop the apocalypse." Dean's answer is succinct.
Meredith stares for a moment then goes for another cup of coffee (Dean thinks the guy must have more caffeine than blood in his system). "Of course he is," he says, sounding broken and overwhelmed. "Well, great. Thanks for that. It's nice to know that the world's on the brink of going to hell." Meredith looks at them, as if he's waiting for them to scram.
Dean realizes he is and is hit with that ugly feeling, disgust and rage when someone just refuses to fight the good fight. And he'd though the guy was on the level (despite the crap ass name).
"What? Don't look at me like that!" Meredith blusters.
Dean shrugs, refuses to say anything.
"Oh, very mature! I'm sorry if I'm not all gung-ho about joining your little crusade but I'm too high profile to go off gallivanting to avert the apocalypse. I work on secret projects for the Air Force and they won't let me go without surveillance. Besides, they've got me exactly where they want me. Don't you?" Meredith asks of Castiel.
Castiel gives the slightest of nods in agreement. "You safeguard His children from the hunger of the Wraith so that they might come to know the Lord."
Wraith Dean thinks with confusion as his mind recalls lore. What the hell is the government up to?
"Do you understand the meaning of classified? If I didn't know you were probably doing something to jam the bugs in here--also, I'm not proselytizing." Meredith spat the word with disgust.
Dean finds it's pretty hard not to be amused when Meredith's ranting at Castiel. It's like that paradox Sammy geeked over when he was in high school, where the unstoppable force meets the immovable object.
"So your dance card's all full, doing the Lord's work?" Dean can't help but tease.
Meredith doesn't even glare. "You fight your war, I'll fight mine."
Dean grins. "I can get behind that."
***
Dean has left and the room seems smaller now, without him to serve as reluctant intermediary.
"You're too attached," Meredith tells him.
Castiel does not meet Meredith's gaze which is answer enough.
"What? Did you forget I can see you? Or are angels just not that smart?"
Castiel frowns, displeased with Meredith's conceit, that he would speak so to an angel. "You are too proud, as always, Meredith, and your pride is no longer tempered by fear."
Meredith shrugs. "There are worse ways to go than being smited. Smote?"
"Spoken with all the confidence of the ignorant."
"Have you changed the topic? Huh. I didn't know angels could be so shifty. I thought we were talking about your uncharacteristic attachment to Dean Winchester?"
"That is not your concern."
"It is when I see an angel's essence so enmeshed with that of a mortal."
"The consequence of extracting him from Hell."
"...Fuck. It's that bad? Jeannie, I should--"
"She never believed you when you were young, she will not leave on your say so now. You must return to Atlantis, your duty is there."
"And leave Earth to be saved by a kid with serious PTSD and an angel with a skewed sense of priorities because he's practically bonded to him? Great."
.....
"Your love could break him, Castiel. It could break you."
"We have no other choice."
"I'd guessed that."
"The Lord be with you, Meredith."
"I think you need him more than I do."
Title/Prompt: Prophet
Fandom: Supernatural/Stargate: Atlantis
Characters/Pairing: Dean Winchester/Castiel, Rodney McKay.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1628
Notes: For
sacred_20. I started writing this long before 4x09, but the episode just pushed me to finish it. Also, I apologize, Rodney really stole the show here. I think I'm definitely going to stick exclusively to interactions between Dean and Castiel in the future.Acknowledgment: Thanks, as always, to the fantastic
darksilvercat for the beta services that provide the masses with fic in much better condition.Summary: Dean and Castiel are confronted by an angry prophet.
--------
One of the great things about Castiel, Dean had found, was that he had some kind of mojo that discouraged people from approaching them or even giving them attention when they were discussing demons, seals and the Apocalypse in public.
So it was a little surprising (in that, 'oh shit, I just stepped in dog crap' way) when a guy stalked right up to them, planted his feet, and raised his chin in what Dean guesses is meant to be tough gesture or something. The guy, thinning hair and narrowed blue eyes, passed muster at first glance but then you noticed that the crossed arms which should have made him seem broader only made him seem defensive--especially with how, under closer observation, they trembled faintly--and the sweat at his temples only brought attention to how pale the guy was.
"What are you doing here?" the guy hisses at Castiel.
Dean's first thought is that this was someone who'd been searching for the host.
"Meredith," Castiel says evenly. "I am surprised that you would approach me."
Meredith (wow, his childhood must have sucked) glares, his arms unclench and his hand start waving energetically, emphasizing his words. "Yes, because clearly I'm insane enough to do anything but run the other way whenever I see any of you. Who the hell do you take me for? Constantine? I'm much more intelligent than that bastard. But you, you shouldn't be here." And Meredith looks a little sick and a little crazy around the eyes and Dean finally gets it.
"You can see him?" the question sneaks past his lips.
Meredith's attention is now on him (and wow, now he has to rethink his evaluation because this guy just walked over and mouthed off to an angel. That took balls.) and his face doesn't hide what he's thinking, which isn't much of Dean apparently. "Yes, I can. Though I'm guessing you can't, because you wouldn't--" Meredith broke off, ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Would someone tell my why there's a full-blooded angel walking around like he's got a fucking daypass?"
"Full-blooded?" Dean looks to Castiel who has yet to say anything and instead simply watches the both of them with unblinking eyes.
Meredith actually looks speechless. Switching his gaze from Dean to Castiel and back. "Is he another of your toy soldiers? If so, your standards have lapsed."
Castiel, bird-like, tilts his head and Dean could almost swear that's a smile lurking at the corner of his mouth. "You've grown, Meredith." It sounds like approval to Dean. "This is not the place for this," Castiel continues with his usual solemnity as he turns and starts making his way out of the playground where he'd come to meet Dean.
"Did you just call me fat?" Meredith questions suspiciously as he follows the angel at a distance.
Dean double takes. It's so fucking insane he wants to laugh. He wonders whether Sammy'll believe him.
***
"So who the hell are you anyway?" Dean asks as soon as they're inside the privacy of a pretty sweet hotel room (about ten times better than the crappy motels he and Sam ended up in). It was obvious the guy wasn't a hunter and the pricey room just cinches it.
Meredith ignores the question, as he strides from point A to point B, from the door to the coffeepot.
"If you want to know, ask him," is Meredith's irascible answer.
Dean turns to Castiel with an inquiring look.
Castiel is preternaturally still, his eyes intense and focused completely on Dean as he speaks. "Meredith is blessed--"
Meredith makes a derisive sound as he sips his coffee. Castiel continues without acknowledging it.
"He is able to perceive the true forms of divine beings, he can bear the weight of true angelic speech, he can discern our very essence." Dean can't help but feel a little disturbed. Castiel sounds a little bit...reverent. Freaky.
"Typical," Meredith mutters, drawing their attention. He glares at Castiel before turning heated eyes on Dean. "He makes it sound so incredible, so miraculous. What he neglected to mention was the fact that I could also see, hear and perceive the other side as well, in all its disgusting and depraved glory. Blessed? Fucking cursed more like it."
Castiel despite his mild expression manages to emanate displeasure. "It is a boon He gave humans," he reaffirms, solid in his belief.
"Oh, don't give me that. It's a painted target on every blessed human." Meredith advances, his tone becoming increasingly sardonic. "Because, if someone sees an angel and that angel sees you, what's the harm, right? It's not as if they'll draft you into their war. And if they refuse? Well, leave them to fend for themselves. So, when they see a demon, when a demon finds out about this rarity of a human, someone who can see them, who knows--well, it's too bad they didn't choose to fight the good fight. Everyone knows how much demons like new toys to play with!" Meredith ends with a roar. He's breathing heavily and flushed with rage. Castiel simply looks impassive.
Dean watches as Meredith's fingers clench, how his jaw tightens and figures he should intervene before the guy takes a shot. He can sympathize. The number of times he's wanted to deck Castiel just to get some reaction, to wipe that look of indifference off his face--wonderful, now Dean's worked up, too.
But Meredith unwinds, turns his back on Castiel as if he's trying to ignore and deny his existence. He presses unsteady hands to his face and laughs bitterly. "Christ, the amount of people that have committed suicide, been committed, or just hunted down--most don't make it past their teens, you know," Meredith informs Dean.
Dean is uncomfortable and completely at a loss about what to say about learning another shitty fact about the crappy world (but he's not surprised, not even a little bit. Of course there are people out there being screwed over like this. It makes perfect sense in a universe where Hell is a proven fact).
"But that doesn't matter right now. I'd really like to know why he's here." Meredith barely acknowledges Castiel with a wave of his hand.
"To stop the apocalypse." Dean's answer is succinct.
Meredith stares for a moment then goes for another cup of coffee (Dean thinks the guy must have more caffeine than blood in his system). "Of course he is," he says, sounding broken and overwhelmed. "Well, great. Thanks for that. It's nice to know that the world's on the brink of going to hell." Meredith looks at them, as if he's waiting for them to scram.
Dean realizes he is and is hit with that ugly feeling, disgust and rage when someone just refuses to fight the good fight. And he'd though the guy was on the level (despite the crap ass name).
"What? Don't look at me like that!" Meredith blusters.
Dean shrugs, refuses to say anything.
"Oh, very mature! I'm sorry if I'm not all gung-ho about joining your little crusade but I'm too high profile to go off gallivanting to avert the apocalypse. I work on secret projects for the Air Force and they won't let me go without surveillance. Besides, they've got me exactly where they want me. Don't you?" Meredith asks of Castiel.
Castiel gives the slightest of nods in agreement. "You safeguard His children from the hunger of the Wraith so that they might come to know the Lord."
Wraith Dean thinks with confusion as his mind recalls lore. What the hell is the government up to?
"Do you understand the meaning of classified? If I didn't know you were probably doing something to jam the bugs in here--also, I'm not proselytizing." Meredith spat the word with disgust.
Dean finds it's pretty hard not to be amused when Meredith's ranting at Castiel. It's like that paradox Sammy geeked over when he was in high school, where the unstoppable force meets the immovable object.
"So your dance card's all full, doing the Lord's work?" Dean can't help but tease.
Meredith doesn't even glare. "You fight your war, I'll fight mine."
Dean grins. "I can get behind that."
***
Dean has left and the room seems smaller now, without him to serve as reluctant intermediary.
"You're too attached," Meredith tells him.
Castiel does not meet Meredith's gaze which is answer enough.
"What? Did you forget I can see you? Or are angels just not that smart?"
Castiel frowns, displeased with Meredith's conceit, that he would speak so to an angel. "You are too proud, as always, Meredith, and your pride is no longer tempered by fear."
Meredith shrugs. "There are worse ways to go than being smited. Smote?"
"Spoken with all the confidence of the ignorant."
"Have you changed the topic? Huh. I didn't know angels could be so shifty. I thought we were talking about your uncharacteristic attachment to Dean Winchester?"
"That is not your concern."
"It is when I see an angel's essence so enmeshed with that of a mortal."
"The consequence of extracting him from Hell."
"...Fuck. It's that bad? Jeannie, I should--"
"She never believed you when you were young, she will not leave on your say so now. You must return to Atlantis, your duty is there."
"And leave Earth to be saved by a kid with serious PTSD and an angel with a skewed sense of priorities because he's practically bonded to him? Great."
.....
"Your love could break him, Castiel. It could break you."
"We have no other choice."
"I'd guessed that."
"The Lord be with you, Meredith."
"I think you need him more than I do."
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Date: 2008-11-15 02:25 pm (UTC)I'm glad you enjoyed it. Rodney probably felt that snarking anymore would piss the angel off, he's not stupid, after all.
three tenet opinion of life, can i kill it, can i eat it, can i shag it
BWAH!