heraldingangel | Inbox for deerington

( And thinner. But yeah, the older he gets the more he keeps it long. It's become his signature style. The weight of the world and coiffed, combed back hair. )

You too.

( Some things never change. Like his signature look.

Coming to him, he pulls Cas into a hug, his arm gripping his shoulder tightly before stepping back. )

You didn't answer me, so I'm making you one. Without your grace you're almost human, which means you need to eat.

( He doesn't ask before setting two more slices of bread down. He adds thinly sliced tomato. )

[ He would laugh at the reference if he understood it, but he doesn't so it's one less thing to derail his thoughts, a sentiment Sam clearly doesn't have in mind when he pulls him into a hug.

There's an initial stiffness in his shoulder, a moment where he's left dumbfounded by the contrast of this Sam and the one from his time. The last time he tried to hug Sam it ended before it started in an awkward moment of apologies before they both got back to work. But this isn't that and he returns the sentiment, raising his hand to grip him back in camaraderie. He's left with a feeling of warmth that tugs that smile into full view, unaware. ]

I've been eating. I had breakfast this morning.

[ He picks up the conversation when Sam gets to work, picking up two slices of bread and he settles himself into watching him prepare the sandwich his interest obvious. It's late now and he's been walking most of the day, using up energy. Already he can feel his stomach start to make its presence known, growling in protest at the hours between breakfast and now. The sound has him quickly looking down, surprised by the sudden voracity that hits him. ]

I think I'm hungry again.

[ He states, looking up at Sam before shifting his attention to the spread of food as if he knew he would be hungry. His eyes narrow, but he says nothing. ]

I can help. I've made a sandwich before. Admittedly, it wasn't as complicated as this.

[ More like he slathered grape jelly on a piece of bread and called it breakfast. ]

Edited 2020-11-14 21:18 (UTC)

( It's like Jack, learning what hunger is and how it hits.

Lettuce follows the slices of tomato as Sam smiles to himself. He reaches into the fridge to get mustard, holding it up to see if Cas is interested in it. He's not sure what condiments Cas does like. )

You think this is complicated?

( Whatever Cas does decide on, he brings the condiment over and spreads it over two of the empty slices, before setting the knife on a paper towel.

Turning back to the pan, he switches off the burner, opens a drawer and retrieves silicone tongs. He turns back to the island once more, ready to top the slices with veggie bacon. )

I guess there are a lot of moving parts. But, the outcome is worth it. And, it's good for you.

I only use grape jelly.

[ Yes, he's been eating that every day for breakfast. Sometimes lunch and a few times it's also made an appearance at dinner. His diet hasn't exactly been the best, living off of snacks and food that doesn't require cooking. Still, he's doing a lot better than the last time he lost access to his grace. He got sick early on back then tainting the experience with a sour note. ]

You can add it on if you want. I still don't know what a lot of things taste like, but I don't waste food. I'll eat it.

[ He doesn't have enough of a palette to know what's supposed to taste good and what's not, aside from a few things. ]

I like grape jelly and honey. It makes me feel good when I eat it.

[ More of a sugary-high to someone who's never consumed it and who's body has been on pause for a while. ]

No peanut butter?

( Sam has another new objective. Get Cas eating better. Maybe take Cas grocery shopping. Get him over here for dinners. Even lunches. He wants Cas taking care of himself. Who knows what will happen with his grace. )

That's -- rich. I could introduce you to some things that might make you feel good, but that might be better for you. Similar in taste or - experience.

( Topping off the sandwiches, he carefully cuts each into two.

He grabs two plates from the cupboard. He sets one down in front of him and the other in front of Cas. He moves one sandwich to Cas' plate and the other to his. )

Have you lost your grace here before?

The blessing basket only gave me two jars. I've been hoping another jar will appear soon.

[ But he's losing that hope every day he wakes up to find it empty. Imagine a child waking up every day in search of a Christmas present only find the tree empty. ._. ]

Feel good? [ He stares at him misreading his meaning. ] I'm not sick Sam. I haven't thrown up once.

[ Look at him being all self-sufficient! Be proud! Not even once! ]

Last year around this time. After October, they put up a shelter to help people recover. They had regular meal times.

[ So, he never had to learn how to put a meal together, but he feels he's gotten a hang of it now. ]

Edited 2020-11-14 22:22 (UTC)

You haven't ... gone to get more? Did they assign you a job here?

( Sam knows he has one waiting, he just hasn't bothered checking. He's not planning on being her as long as either Cas, but that's not his say, is it. )

Your words. Makes you feel good with you eat it. Usually, it's what you shouldn't eat that gives you that good feeling. The jelly and honey are probably fine, but together, and depending on where they're harvested...

( It could be bad for him. )

Any time you want to, you're welcome to dinner here with Jack and me. And, if he comes back, Dean. ( He hopes he does. ) I think your grace could help with Lucifer.

I still have a third of a jar left. [ He's still not used to thinking ahead when it comes to meal prep or any other aspects of being human that he doesn't quite understand. Like washing clothes. They probably need a wash soon since he can't keep them pristine by holy grace at the moment. ] I don't have a job if that's what you're asking.

[ Look, he doesn't usually need 'things'. You and Dean didn't exactly follow capitalism when he was with you so it's not something he quite understands yet, especially since the last time he was human, he was living at the shelter. He's been collecting berries and other edible foods from the forest. You'd be amazed at what nature can provide. He's also bartered items for regular meals. ]

Why would it make me feel good if it wasn't good for me?

[ Sam. You make no sense. A thought he doesn't articulate out loud because his head snaps up at the name. ]

Jack? [ He didn't know he was staying with them, but if he thought about it, Jack and Sam were both ahead of him. They probably knew each other. ] I didn't realize you knew him. Is he also... around a lot? When you're from?

[ Sam said he was around more too. Was it the same with Jack? It's still an odd thought but one he finds himself looking forward to. Sam and Dean. Jack, too. They felt like home. ]

I'd like that.

[ He says, a soothing feeling settling in between his ribs. It doesn't last long. Nothing ever does. The news of Dean possibly missing drives out any good feelings. ]

Where did he go? [ He stands taller, worry etched between the crease in his brow. ] Did something happen with Lucifer?

[ Already he's looking out the door ready to leave at a moment's notice even if he's more burden than help right now, but the drive has him in its grip. ]

From what I've learned, some people are assigned one. Others aren't. There's no reasoning behind either.

( It's not hard to see that a lack of a pattern or logic frustrates Sam, even as he explains what he can. )

Because of what it's made from. Chemicals or preservatives. They're designed to make you like them. And crave them.

( Because it's bad for him. He twists the bread and fastens the tie back on, returning the various components to the fridge. )

Yeah, he's -- he's with us when I'm from. He's ours. We raised him. ( Until he lost his soul and they lost track of how far down the rabbit hole he'd gone. How dangerous he'd become. ) Jack's in the third bedroom. Or, the other bedroom. The second one hasn't been touched.

( Cas is home to Sam, too, now. Cas, Dean, Jack, Eileen. Jodie. Her kids. Donna. Apocalypse world Bobby. They all make him feel like he's home. They're all family. )

Good. Jack will, too. He -- he's afraid you'll hate him because of who he is. My Cas, he promised to take care of him, to raise him. More than Dean and me, Jack was like a son to him. ( Even if he was dead when Jack was from. ) You don't need to .. force anything, but, I just wanted you to know that - that Jack cares. He likes you.

( They've bonded.

Plate in hand, he holds his other hand up. )

Hey, it's okay. He's -- I don't know, I think he's fine. He's Sam again. And, Lucifer did get into my dream. But, Cas, when you do get your grace back. I think I might have a way, a way we can get Lucifer out.

[ There's no reason behind most things here, he's learned to live with it. Besides, it's not like he has need of one. He doesn't need things - normally - and he's an angel. Helping humanity is his job. To be paid for something he was created to do is an insult.

When Sam starts talking about Jack - who still remains a mystery to him, despite having him here once - Castiel starts steps a little closer. Listening to him intently, he's thrown off when Sam's starts talking about something he can't quite place. ]

Bedroom? [ Second? Third? ] What bedrooms are you talking about?

[ In the time that he's known the brothers, they've lived on the road, Dean's car bearing the weight of home more than the places they slept in sometimes. It's the odd phrasing that throws him off. ]

I don't hate him.

[ A declaration, one he struggled with at first when he first met Jack. He didn't hate him, but all angels knew that Nephilims were abominations. After meeting Jack, getting to know him, and knowing all that he knew of Heaven's corruption. He discarded that notion as another false narrative. Like Sam, Jack wasn't an abomination. He was good. They were good. ]

Even if he's a Nephilim.

[ He may not view him in the same light as he one day would, but even this far back, he feels the pull of something tugging at him every time they met. It felt like having a new angel assigned to their garrison, someone who needed guidance. This feeling didn't stem from the same well that would one day drive him, but it was real nonetheless. Just as real as what he felt for Sam and Dean. Speaking of, hearing that Dean is okay settles him back down, and he nods at Sam accepting his words as truth. Sam wouldn't lie to him. Taking the plate from him, Castiel follows his lead, asking questions as he does so. ]

It'll take a few weeks to get back to full power. The end of the month most likely, but I should be able to perform minor miracles before then.

What did you find?

Here, Cas. There are three bedrooms in this house.

( He's talking in the here and now. Not the then. He has switched it up, though. He should make it clearer. )

He is. And he can't help that that's what he is. The angels, they were wrong about Nephilim about them being abominations. Don't ask me how I know this, but, Ishim, he lied to you and to the other angels in your garrison, all to get revenge on Lily Sunder. There was no Nephilim in that house.

( It's a pretty large wall to bring down, not the God-sized wall he's keeping up, but it's there and he has to piece something else together, something else to get Cas to see that they were all manipulated at some point. Especially, regarding Nephilim and Nephilim lore.

He brings the plates to the dining room table. Then, returns to the kitchen to grab two beers and open them up. One, he hands to Castiel before sitting. )

It's not what I've found, it's what we've done. You can go into people's minds. I've been there with you. We can get Sam to expel Lucifer, to say no. ...We have before. I don't know what this place will do, if it will interfere, but that's one thing we can try.

[ Here... His head slowly tilts up and he looks up at the ceiling where he saw some the windows to the bedrooms earlier when he walked up to the house. ]

Right.

[ He nods. Understanding. Putting it out of his mind, as he listens intently to what Sam has to say. ]

I figured out the same thing once I met him. Jack isn't an abomination. [ He looks at him. ] And neither are you.

[ He adds just in case he took his words to heart when he was at his lowest and they faced off against the 'Whore'. Either way, he wanted Sam to know he didn't see him that way. A thought that's quickly put to rest the moment he mentions Ishim. Surprise colors his face, and he looks at Sam like he's grown a second head. How did he know about Ishim? The question is clearly written in his face but he doesn't interrupt, needing to hear the rest. Ishim... lied? About the Nephilim, they were sent to kill? Then who did he... kill? Hearing Sam confirm it makes him drawback not quite sure what to make of everything he's been told. He trusted Ishim. Why would he lie to them? There's too many questions and despite knowing he should keep his knowledge of the future vague, it's hard to keep them at bay. ]

I... [ His fingers flex not quite sure what to do with the knowledge of his former comrade. ] You've given me a lot to think about.

[ He finally answers, fidgeting in place as the information casts his old friend into a new light. Needing a moment with his thoughts, he's quiet on their trek to the table not even looking at Sam when he gets up to grab them some drinks. There's a sense of betrayal that settles heavy on his chest by the time Sam returns. It lies with him, even as the conversation shifts to his other brother - Lucifer. Sam from the other world. The who had Lucifer anchored inside him, he still feels like a fool for not seeing it when he spoke to the other Sam. Whatever he could do, he would do it, no matter what it cost him. He was in all the way. But then, that's just how things always were, at least in this aspect, nothing had changed. ]

Sam. I'll do whatever you want. I want to free Sam of my brother's possession. Whatever you need, I'll do it.

[ He settles down, the conversation new, yet familiar. Sitting around a table, discussing how to take down the archangels. It feels like he's come home. ]

Can you tell me what we did before?

Edited 2020-11-15 02:27 (UTC)

( Right. He has to speak carefully to this Castiel, to explain everything.

And neither are you.

He hasn't thought that in a long time, but there was a stretch of about four years where he did think something was wrong with him. He was the freak. The psychic freak. The freak with the demon blood. The harbinger of the apocalypse. Lucifer's vessel.

He remembers how Castiel first greeted him. Not warmly. That this Castiel feels like he needs to make that blanket statement. It gives Sam pause, a small smile forming at the edges of his mouth, curling upward subtly. With one nod of his head, he moves forward. )

I know. And, I will answer anything you want, tell you anything you want. With Jack, with any Nephilim, if he ended up in Hell's hands, it could've gone either way. Like anything else. It's about raising him. Teaching him. He's afraid of his power because it's great. It's more power than we've ever seen.

( Other than God's. )

It depends. Most times, it involved going inside their mind. Trying to find them. With Sam in control, I don't know how it would work. It's possible we could fight Lucifer inside his mind, weaken him enough so that the other Sam can dispel him from his body. If it wasn't you going into their minds, it was Crowley. He had this needle technique when an archangel was inside me, to get you in my head. And, we had this old tech in the bunker - in case something was keeping us out. We've done it four or five different times.

( He talks like this, at ease, trying to explain without explaining too much, taking a bite here and there, and a sip between. He wipes his mouth, politely, like he was taught to do.

This is nice. )

[ Sam giving him a blank slate for any future events is a kind gesture, one he knows he can't take. It tempts him but knowing that Sam and Dean survive. That they raise Jack. That he's seemingly still with them... it's enough. Keeping them safe, helping them traverse the path Heaven forced them on... it's all he's ever wanted.

He touches the top of the beer, lets his fingers trace over the rim, while his thoughts linger on all the questions he wants to ask. It's telling that all of them have no tactical or strategic value. His mouth quirks. The only thing he wants to know are the details. The moments like these. The subject didn't matter only the feeling. Letting his fingers slide down the bottle, gripping it, he picks it up and takes a drink taking note of the taste. Not bad, but not good either. ]

Thank you, Sam. But I think it would be best if you only tell me what I need to know.

[ He licks his lips and listens while Sam explains, taking a bite of the sandwich Sam prepared him. The first bite almost derails his thoughts and he looks at Sam telling him 'It's good', before washing it down with another drink of the beer. Munching happily at the hand made food, he takes it all in, word for word, trying to piece together how to do what Sam wants him to do. It's only when he mentions the bunker that his brows crease and he stops picking at the crumbs to question him. ]

What bunker?

I'll handle need to know, but you tell me what you want to know - if you think you need to know it.

( It'll be up to him.

Was that easy to follow? Possibly not. He's trying here. Usually, he's better at this, but with all the copies, he's at a loss some of the time, and flying blind others. )

It's -- Dean and I, we're legacies in a secret society. The Men of Letters? There's a bunker in Kansas we were led to... by our grandfather. ( He knows how that sounds. ) They were a group of, of men who stayed on the sidelines and researched. Or, they were supposed to. It's where we live, where we've lived for... seven years.

[ Legacies? His temple furrows at the mention of secret societies. Why does this sound familiar? ]

You know The Men of Letters?

[ He finally interrupts, voice incredulous. He's been spending his night's going through the archives in the bunker. It stored a respectable wealth of knowledge giving him ample time to get to know the secret society. ]

Sam.

[ He shoves a hand into his coat pocket and pulls out a wooden box with the insignia of the aquarian star etched on top. ]

Do you know what this is?

( He is a Men of Letters. A man. Member of. Sam frowns, hand hesitating, wanting to reach out. But, it's not being handed over. Just -- shown. )

That's the key to the Men of Letters bunker. How do you ..

[ The key to...

He stares at the box, brows furrowed at the revelation unsure what to make of it. The key opened a building that held an amalgamation of supernatural artifacts and research into the occult. It's why he stayed, aside from needing the shelter. ]

It showed up in my blessing basket.

The uh - the basket that Sodder leaves things in. She manifests things we might ask for - or, in this case, not.

You didn't know about the bunker.

( He frowns, puzzling. )

A hint of what's to come? Your blessings basket, not Dean's.

No. [ Why would he? ] Maybe Sodder knew you were coming. All of you.

[ He shakes his head. ]

I got it before Dean arrived here and the other Dean [ his mouth presses together in an almost uncomfortable look before continuing on ] was dead.

Edited 2020-11-21 18:51 (UTC)

And she prepared you? With a key we can't use?

( He grimaces, eyes hooded, taking that information in. )

Dean died?

[ Can't use? His brows furrow. ]

It opens a large building. [ He corrects. ] It took me a week to find it but the inscription on the door matched the one on the key.

[ So, he used it and it opened. He's been exploring the inside ever since. With the amount of books in the library, he'd be happy to spend days locked inside, a sentiment that quickly snuffs out with his last question. ]

The one from the other timeline. [ His answers in a neutral tone, eyes shifting away from him. ] Before you, Dean and Jack arrived.

( One - one thought at a time, he decides. He addresses them in reverse order. )

I - I heard people die here. I heard especially last month. I didn't know Dean did, too.

( Something else he's going to have to follow up on. Including this, as he squares his jaw and takes a breath. )

What building are you talking about? There's a building here that that key opens?

The month of October seems to hold the highest casualties in the year.

[ He answers in the same tone. Neutral. To the point. ]

It was a canine from what I gathered. Though, I don't know any more than that.

[ He wanted to ask, but it only served his own curiosity, and he won't ask Dean to relive it for his sake, so he remains ignorant of most of the facts. ]

Yes. It's built like a fortress.

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