heraldingangel | Inbox for deerington

[ 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.

On the side of a hill? Underneath? And it stretches underneath? It has multiple levels?

( Has he been inside? And how, how is it here? He moves through all the possibilities. Maybe, everything reflecting off Sodder can reflect off of them. It's why someone from a different dimension can conjure a T-rex or Shelob. Because, it's reflected in them.

But, how would she conjure the bunker if Cas had never been. Unless this is about fixed timelines. )

Have you been inside?

[ The description is eerily accurate a thought that's blatant in his face with the way his brows furrow with every word. ]

Yeees. [ He stretches out the word, not quite sure where Sam is going with this or how he got the information. He nods at the second question, not quite sure what he means to get out of it. Why wouldn't he go inside? ]

I spend most of my time in the library. There are rare books on the occult.

The bunker. It's here. -- Where?

( He doesn't get it. It speaks to where Castiel will go, if he's from Sam's reality. He's passed the other Cas'. How many realities are involved? They don't know. )

[ With no attachment to the building he located not long ago, he doesn't feel the same pull to it that Sam does. To him, it's simply a place to keep warm while he's human. He hasn't finished exploring all the rooms sequestering himself to the library on most nights. ]

By the lake.

Do you... want to see it?

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