Eustass Kidd for Pirate King

https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1s1irUwE1Zw5IwPMLYrvAnAmSv2T0gYwtXBF0HKTMgEY/edit#gid=212335941
^ nanowrimo^



( outline for start fro wrino/whump )

Sunday, 10 November
Prompt:	Unconscious	2720	WordCount:	2173

"The apparent greater demon, who possibly knows yet /another/ antichrist, watches Dean's face closely as he hands up a phone call from the demon's alleged godson.""Thank you. He does worry.""

It's not the weird situation the winchesters have found themselve in, but it is getting up there pretty quickly. The flames have been put out, but the oil is stil there at the outside of the trap, ready to light again, as the demon sits on his knees, pages spreading out around him

""Look,"" he reasured them, holding up a few leafs, ""These five look like theire related, all have the same origin. You still haven't given me all the sentane. So I don't know what theire rtying to say, but these five look important.""

Sam takes the sheets nad looks them over quickely. He knods to the hall, and Dean leaves with him, pieceing them against hte array they have copied in the other room. sure enough, the five sigils are all in roughly equal placement in the pattern. While they are no bigger or smaller than the others, the placement was notworthy. one against each shoulder blade, one slidetly front on each shoulder and hte last dead center to the costatoic angel's chest.

""You should propbly not break all the five at once,"" the demon calls fromt he floor, before turning to Bobby and Castiel, ""I don't think its a one scuff and done thing,"" he explains in a more room freeling volumne, ""those five are probablt focaly points, almost like seals. you should be careful arobt breakign them, incase their's been any energy stored up. but really, they feel more like... sence blockers."" he tilts his head, a look not oo uncommon for csatil and it's unerving. ""five is an odd number to do things in, are you sure you gave me them all? six is more our syle. seven if you're cocking around with heavens work. I'm not really sure which one you're playing wit to be honest. five is.. human maybe? like the chinese. lots of stuff set in sets of five over there. europe was more ofur. but ohh!"" he chuckles,""four is baaaad luck in japan.""

Bobby galnces at Casteil, whol nods /yes, he;ll stay/ while he rolls out to confire with the boys. Castiel stood watch outside the cricle, listening to the demon ramble. He seemed fairly at ease in his trap, talking aimlessly and at great length. He continued to talk at his captors, but din’t seem offened or hurt when no one tlaked back to him. While the situation didn't seem to bother him, Castiel could feel a long settled air of dispair within him. He didn’t like that he recognised this emotion from the deep seated distress that had long sense taken hold of the winchesters, didn’t like that the part of him that was quick to sooth it from the humans has asking if he was going to do the same for the demon.

The phone call had been most cursios, and while Castiel sense no decete or double meanings from the demon, the man on the otherside has left them all on the wrong foot. Who /was/ this ‘warlock’ and who the hell was he meaning by the antichrist?

“Look, Look, angel,” the demon waved at him, and he recoiled out of arms reach. The demon actually looked hurt by that, “i see. Sorry.” he mutteres sinking back until he's spwarled out on the floor, looking up at Casteil through a friadge of re hair. ""Come on trenchcoat, tell me what it is, please? I wanna see what 's so specisl to have been bound up in all that.""

""Why do you think something is bound?""

Crowley rolls on to his stomache, motioning to the ring of holy oil and the room in general, ""Becuase humans are involved. That's what they do. they don't know what somehting is, they draw every protect measure they can find. They fear something power; well can't leave it alone, but sure, draw an arraoy to try and control it. Yours and mine, we're more hands on. leave the door open hoping someoone stupid eough to try it. You know in London, the doors to heaven and hell are litteraly right next to one anotehr? don't try to show up to work smashed, might take the wrond steps. and then thats it. but there's no lock, no gate. no guard.""

Was it really that easy for field agents? ""You have a door to heaven in London?""

""well sure. i'd bet theire all over hte place; haven't really had a reason to go looking for htem though. nothing i want up there.""

Any other demon, Castiel would schoff at the idea that if they had an ungarded entrance to heaven they wouldn't plan something. But the demon trapped in Bobby's house, a fallen angel of all things, honestly didn't seem tlike he was interested in it at all. Maybe it was a trap of some kind? pretending that there was an ungarded entrance to Heaven to lure .. who? Him specifially? He glanced at the hall to where his humans had gone, bfore looking back it...and empty room.

""DEAN!!""

--

“So your mystery spell is in here, yeah?” Crowley muttered, lurking around on of the other rooms in the wheelchair boand human's home. It was stripped bare, witha cot set up against the wall, but not much else. there where no markings in this room, but the /feel/ of magic was heavy in the air. it burned his eyes, and felt an awful like the paper's he'd been shuffling though. Very dangerous to copy those down, especially without anything to cancel them out. Becuase it wasn't so much that they looked alike as that he could /feel/ them collecting power on the paper. Well, four of them he could feel. the last paper he couldn't feel at all, no power, no paper, like his hand was empty, despite the fact he could see it.

That was his tip off. He couldn't fell that paper, and one of the others made it so he couldn't focus on what was on the page. one didn't make a sound when it was shuffled, and two of the others set of his snakie sceanses (taste and smell)

Five was an unusualy number for casting, but if you where talking human, human's like five. insisted five elements for a very long time,a nd still taught five senses.

He could hear the humans and hte graceless angel panicing in the room he'd left, and he put hi shands up in surrended. Shades still obscured his face, but he grined like the cat who got he creme as the four rushing into the room

“How did you get out?!”

“Should have lit the fire again. I don’t actaly know if it would have kept me, but lines of the floor only work if the demon in them believes they can't actualy get out. But don’t worry, most of them do.”

“That’s not how it works,” Sam started, the demon coscking his head in a manner too similaors to Castiels.

“Tall human, that how /everything/ works. Escpeailly with us. Belief is 9/10ths of the law. You humans might have a few more laws, but those only work becuase you expect hem too. And even when you believe in them comepletely, you still spend all your energy finding new ways to brea them”

Dean was shaling his head in disbelif, and Sam just looked at him dumbly.

“Look, it’s not your fault, i mean, the apple did a lot to get you all thinking around the rules, but most jsut aren’t made to think outside the box.” He looked directly at Castiel, “No offense. So, what mystery item are we working on?”

He’s pearing around the room; the rescuded andel on full display. But curiosuly, the demon doesn’t even seem to notice.

It confirms a suspission Castiel had not wanted to voice. Crossroads Crwolay had called him old guard. He was a fallen angel, but also hells field agent. He wasn't in possession of a human vessel; he had his own, custom made. He also was unknowling still strong enough to cast unconsious miricles, which was a quite terrifing thought. That gateway to heaven might only exist becuase he assumed it did.

Dean and Sam where about rady to open fire, and Bobby didn't look much behind them. This could all go very bad, very quickly.

""You only stayed in the trap to make us feel better.""

""No, i really didn't know about the fire to be honest. never came across it before. But i stopped letting traps bother me along time ago. Never ended up well for me, my friend or the humans. And they trapped me, so i don't feel that bad. but it was always very inconvent.""

""So when we summoned you...""

""Nobody summons me. ANd yeah, I would rahter have seen Warlock, but no. body. summons. me.""

""So you came to what, make sur no one does agaon, big bad-""

""No, nono, smal human-""

""SMALL?!""

""I made very through efforts to make sure my name isn't written down anywhere. Azi.. Heav... Somebody help me, i even burned a few books to gether there, and hte fight that one cuased was ...bad. Mighta taken falling again to avoid a row like that. Only four creatures had my name until you lot called on me, and i'm very much regretting that fourth one right now. Crawly best watch his back for the next few centuries, becuase this was an abuse of that trust, and the bastard and i had a deal.""

He's angey now, heavy enegy filling the room, but bobby, level headed of them, pipes up, ""He said the sigils might be what your looking for.""

""And what did he say i was looking for?""

""He didn't. Just that you'd killed every dead end.""

""I didn't kill nothing, jsut made it... go away. Whats the sigils from?""

No one said anyhting, and the demon's anger flaired again, ""Trenchcoat, what. are. the. sisigls. from.""

Normally, Castiel would never had let someone talk to him like that, and Dean was winding up to tell the newcommer off, but Sam beat them all to it, ""Can't you see it?""

He seems to conclude the same this as Castiel. He couldn't. The bindings on their rescuded angel kept him from Castiel's holy sight. if crowley was truely in his ow form, he had no one else's sences to borrow. He was jsut as blinded as Castiel was. It also lead Castiel to fear that, the bound angel, in his own vessel and not one borrowed, was trappe dunder the same circumstances that Casteil was, but on the other side.

""See. What.""

The anger let out of the room in a sigh, Crowley's voice tinging more with unease anf worry. no one liked being out of the loop, and it seemed Crowley was at his end. Dean nodded again to the bed, and the demon looked over, eyes sliding over the figure - now dressed in some sleep wear borrowed from bobby - without seeing him.

Sam moved into the room, walking right past Crowley to the bed, and pulled out on the the appers crowely had sorte dout eirlier. ignoring the room, he pulled loose the buttons ont he borrowed shirt, and leaved though the sheets to the matching sigil over the angels' sternum. ""This one, "" he said, holding up the 'touch' page frombefore. Crowley easied forward, hand blindly out. sam, gorwing tired of the who thing, took his questing figners (so cold) in his own,a nd settled them on the angels skin over hte mark.The demon jerked awy, face tweisted in renewed rage, “What is this? You’ve bound a /person?/ are they even still alive? That’s… thats inhuman!”

The outrage was surprising, so much so, that they didn’t react intime as the demon shoved Sam away, surging forward to trace the sigil of touch. The demon was carefully feeling out the lines of the spell, working blindly, but deftly, pulling at weavings only he and castiel had been able to feel.

“We found him this way,” Dean said finaly, looking wariy, as the demon knelt before their strand ward, Castiel watching over his work; the demon's fingers glowed with felt like hellfire, but he was careful to keep room between them and the angels skin; a hard task when you couldn't see what you where doing, and couldn't feel anythign but resistance.

The angel on the bed shivered, the first movement of its own as the demon drew away from his chest. The humans watched the once hidden sigil burned into its chest glow yellow around the edges. It did not fade back away, but caste a soft glow, the hellfire unable to remove it, but to isolate it from the rest of the spell. For the first time, the chest rose and fell, like the angel had not taken a breath the entire time it was bound. It shuddered under the demons hands, but otherwise it remained unmoving.

“Easy, child,” the demons soothed, the body still hidden form him, but carefull feeling out the curve of the body, finisng the shoulder, “shhhh. It’s alot at once, i know. I know..”
"

Saturday, 9 November
Prompt:	Shackled	3120	WordCount:	2140

"They pull out all the stops before attempting to summon crowley prime, as dean as dubbed him. Every human trick they've learned for trapping Demons, with every thing Castiel knows on both sides od the celestial line. Bobby has the colt ready, and sam has holt walter, regardless of their crowleys warnings agaisnt it.

Castiel reacts first, visible recoiling, and quickly lighting the holy oil he'd prepaired around the drawn inner trap.

With the phrase 'old gaurd' ringing in htier colletive memories, they are /expecting/ an eltchich horrror at best. Instead they get another vaugley british man dressed all in black. Unlike Crowley's suits and ties, this demon is /stylish/ with a loose jacket, a bit of bling, black jeans that look just about painted on, and sunglasses. His red hair is slicked up and back, going for the 'effortlessly casuual look' that everyone secretly knows takes hours to perfect. The ensabmle is completeed with snake shik books, a snake belt, and a red and gold scarf drapped lazyly over his shoulders. He looks annoyed when he arrives, having the gall to check the time on an outragous looking (both in the fact it looks needlessly complecated, and needlely expensice) watch at his wrist before even bothering to noticed the four assempbles about the room.

""Alright folks, On a bit of a time crunch, so lets make it quick yeah. Got places to be tonight."" He looks at them now, almost bored, ""It is night here, right? blast, how far have you pulled me away this time? Sprichst du Deutsch?""

""You're not a demon."" Castiel makes a neawly learned 'shushing' motion at dean's blunt statement while both sam and bobby look at him annoyed.

""Excuse me?"" Their prisonner doesn't look too bored now, possibly muttering 'of course, americans' under his breath, ""You summoned me, what did you think you where getting?""

Dean jsut motiones to the fire Catiel had lit, looking at the angel instead.

“He’s…. Not … /just/ a demon.” Castiel says finally,

Sam looks like he's figured it out, relisation dawning on his face like a cold shock. “Crowley said he was ‘old guard’ - “

“He’s a fallen angel.” Castiel says it so abrustly, he suprises himelf.

“Did.. did crowley know that?"" Booby notes the demon... fallen angel... something, flinch at the other demon's name as Sam confranced with his brother, ""Did he know he was suggestiong we summon another fallen angel to earth? Did we just accidently let a fallen angel loose on earth?!”

“He said /Crow/ley was a field agent."" Bobby reassured them, watching the new comer's face carefully. The .. other ... /beamed/ at him from the circle, and actually gave him a cheeky wave, ""Implied he was already loose on earth.”

""Been here for a while,"" he admitted, fingers tucked into the top of his tiny pant pockets, rocking abit on the balls of his feet.

“Why haven’t we come across him yet, what’s he been doing during all this then?” Dean was asking Sam, but Castiel and Bobby where doth watching the demonic once angel while they argued.

He swayed in place, like he was incappale of standning still, and even with the glasses the two could tell he wasn't blinking as he straired back at them, smirking at the oblivious brothers. “As much fun as the light show is,” the fallen angel drawled when they paused for breath, “Is there a reason you’ve drug me here, or can i be on my way yet? I’ve actually got plans to get too. Maybe we can reschedual?”

Dean whirled aorund on his heal with a barely heald back a snarel, “You’ve got /plans/?”

“I’m a man of my word, and i did promise my godson id meet him for dinner tongiht. Hellion worries abotu me ya see. Thinks i might be lonely.” he drops ‘hellion’ down like a fond swear before pouting, “You’ll make me la~te.”

“Your /godson/ really.”

He perks up so brightly, Sam is almost expecting him to whip out photos, “Been there more for him than his own folks the last decade or so. Really didn’t plan on bothering him after he moved across the pond, but then he called on me after a bad bender, and i couldn’t jsut ignore a calling like that.”

“Where are you meeting this godson?”

“Long standing reservations at the Rtiz”

He got blank looks at them at first, until dean snorted, “yeah right. You gonna meet him a nine precisely?”

“I pay the bill,” /Crow/ley crooned back, before his face turned storny and closed off

Dean shook his head. At Castiel’s questioning look, he waved the angel off, “It’s a/ Queen/ song. He’s fucking with us.”

“Freddie always had good tastes in the high life. Do wish i could take credit for that line, but i could never prove it.”

Dean threw his hands up in exasteration, a muttered 'can you believe this guy' as sam tryed to gaige how much the fallen angel was indeed fucking with them, “You knew freddie Murcury?”

“Of course. Granted my /car/s the one who went and fell in love with him, but i suppose it could be worse. Besiiiides,"" The man in black smiles, expresion softening, ""He was nice to my .. friend .. too. One of the few that seemed to be okay with us both, even if he didn't know what we where.”

“Demons.” the brothers decided to wait to unpack the rest of that never.

Crowley only shrugged in return.

“I really do need to be wrapping this up,” he interjected again, but instead of impation, his tone was soothing, sincere, “ 'Lock’s expecting me, and if i don’t at least let him know i’m running late, he may… take it the wrong way. And you do /not/ want that boy making paniced phone calls. He's got a lot more pull then he realises, and i don’t want to casue any interrealm insident. Go…. Sa…. Somebody help us if he calls Adam first. I’m /retired/ boys."" he stressed, ands up placatingly, ""I’m not getting back in with all this again. Someone else's turn this time.”

It hurts to hear their brothers name tossed so causually, even if they know it can’t be the same person.

""We just want to know what these say,"" The drawings Sam hold up where about half of the sigils they could find, leaving out the array completly. They had an uneasy understanding with their Crowely, but without knowing esactly what they where dealing with, they didn't want to play their hand completely. Going in blind on both sides whas not a place they liked to be. The hunters had desided to start with a small set of sigials, and see if they could fifure out the rest if they had some context.

/Crow/ley stalked along the fire line, looking over the drawings with a frown deepenign on his forhead. “Where did you see these?!? I haven’t… I haven’t seen anthing like this…. Well, i’m not sure i’ve ever seen it written like this. He’d know for sure, but this shouldn’t be here. We haven’t used these since before. Well, before earth. I din’t know they could be written /down./ How did you lot get them? ”

Team Free Will only seemed to catch half of the demon’s mutterings; he was making no attempts to excplain in depth, but looked very unsettled. “I am …. /not/ the expert on this, not remotely. I'm working with second hand knowledge of something that's only ever been spoken. But, with the voice of stars, not the limiations of mortal noises. I don't actually remmeber it. wasn't allowed to. But there’s missing pieces to this. Are you sure you copied it all?”

Nobody says anything, Casteil not making eye contact while the three humans look at him with variousy successful poker faces. ""Come on trechcoat, you'd have a better idea than me, yea? There gotta be soem choirs up there stills inging this?""

He just distrusting looks back, but didn’t seem offented, “Look, i get not giving me the whole thing, I wouldn’t show it to me either. But theres defiantly part missing. its lkie you're showing me jsut the nouns to a sentance, and pantamiming out the verbs as you think i’ve gotten to them while reading. Never mind everythign else you need for a sentace.""

WHen no one still says anything, he throws up his hands, “I can’t help you if i’ve only got the nouns. I'm joing to be late for dinner. What is this even for?”

There's a Team Free Will huddle in the hall.

""Cas, /do/ you recogise this?""

""It's not echonia; I'm not sure /waht/ it is. /Crow/ley implied it might be older.""

""Language of the stars."" Bobby muttered, ""something that wasn't ever supposted to be written.""

""The laungage of creation. Heaven hasn't spoken it since .... before time, actually. I've never heard it."" Casteil looks uneasy, ""Micheal might know it.""

""I'd rather ask Mr fallen in there.""

""So we ask the angels activily plotting against us, a fallen angel we know nothing about, or just leave the poor bastard in the other room the way he is until... the world ends?""

And they finally give crowley all the sigils, but still nothing more.

The apparently fallen angel is studing the walls when they come back, ""You gents had no idea what you invited in did you? There's so many things in your bindings, you migha been able to give the Almighty a run for Her money."" He laughed, a truely kind noise, ""wouldn't of held Her, and you'd have been in for /quite/ the smiting in the end. But i'd like to think She'd be quick about it. Impressed by the inginuity and all""

Sam shoves the draws at him, midfull to keep them well out of the reach of the flames. The demon looks antsy, checking his watch again, before taking the pages from Sam. However, he seems to take it quite seriosly, holding each page and twisting it this way and that. rearranging the orination of a few of them. In a smoothness that no one with bones should be able to do he sinks to the ground, sitting cross legged as he looks the sheets over, ""Still not all here boys. But. i'll explain what you've given me for a phone call. Certainly i deseve a phone call, yea?”

“Sorry, fresh out of blood."" Dean snips.

Even behind the shades, Bobby can see his bewillerement in his face. “Waht…. OH!! Oh, no no no Like. A phone call. with a mobile. Warlock, remember? I’m /very/ late at this point.”

""Your godson's name is /War/lock?""
“I'm not just letting you phone a freind!”

The brothers outcries overlap each other, nad Bobby can /feel/ a headache starting. Castiel is glaring at he demon like he hoped he could light him on fire with jsut a look, clearly failing to hold back his growing impationce.

Crowley reclines back on the floor. “So call the Ritz yourself. Ask for Warlock.”

“Just.. ask for /warlock/?”

“Yes.” he says it in confusion, like he’s not sure why it was a question in the first place.

It takes a minute to google the Ritz London. They don't have a plan for international calls, but Crowley asks why they would need one, just call.

The weirdest part is that it works.

Sam asks them if they have a guest named Warlock, who might be waiting for someone.

They do.

A man answers, “This is Warlock.” He sounds their age, and he sounds worried. “Hello?”

Crowely calls out from across the room, heard perfectly over the phone beucse he doesn’t expect diffrently, “Warlock dear, its Nanny.”

“Nanny, where /are/ you? Are you okay?”

“Perfectly fine love,” the demons voice is pitched softer, accent shifting alittle, “Just got a bit tied up with things. You know how work gets.”

The man on the line chuckled, but not enough to displeal the worry, “You’re supposted to be retried”

“No rest for the wicked”

“You're not going to make it tonight, are you?”

Crowly looks at his captures. They stare back, “ ‘Fraid not love. But don’t worry, we’ll meet up next week.”

Dean’s ready to hang up, but Warlocks voice calls out, one last question. “Nanny, should I call Adam?”

Crowleys look to the hunters is dark and steeled, “No need to bother him just yet, dear.”

“Can you take me off speaker? Who ever has the phone?”

Crowley looks curious, and Dean does, holding up the speaker to his ear. He still doens’t say anything.

“Nanny seems to think you aren’t worth smiting outright.” the voice says, cold. “So i’m not calling in favours yet, becuase /I/ think he needs the distraction. But you’re gonna let Him call me tomorrow, or i will level whatever little hollow you've crawled into. And when I’m done calling in the airstrick, i’m gonna have the bloody antichrist himself come by personally to bring him home. Whatever fucked up game you think you’re playing, you’ve already lost by stealing him. You can’t hurt him in any way that matters, but i can still very much hurt you. So tread /very/ carefully, /hunter/”"

Thursday, 7 November
Prompt:	Isolation	3120	WordCount:	3154

"Very few hunters activily dealt with demons, with John Winchester being one of the even fewer that even considered them real. And as far as Bobby Singer or the Winchester brothers could find in the days leading up to Heaven and Hells war on earth, there were no coinfirmed Hunters that had ever dealt with Angels a all.

However, there where a few Hunters that dealt with all manor of occult items, although John Winchester wrote them as being more witch related than anything else. His journal listed, in an even more paranoid code than usual, a pair of Hunters that had power items that did not register as demonic, but Daddy Winchester had felt very uneasy in his dealings with them, becuase by that point he was learned enough to know whatever they were selling was most definatly /not/ human in origin.

Whoever they were, these Hunters had never been part of Bobby's circle, so the names had been lost to a code no one left alive could decifer. Sam had at least traked down a last known location; their dad having mentioned meetings starting in late 1995 to inquire about some blood of undeternaimal origin that had been used in a demonic banishment ritural that had actually worked.

The jounral had not listed having ever found out the soruce of the blood, or how the two Hunters had accutred it. It had said he'd traded for some, but it hadn't felt right, and John had salt and burned his sample later that year after he felt like something was sniffing around him. Whatever had been stalking him never came back, and John limited his contact with them as much as possible; trading information, but never again items. He had a suspision what whiel the items where not demonic, and where extramly effective against demon and other supernataul entited, they also seemed to /attract/ demonic energy to a dangersous degree.

Now, years later, the same impala pulled up unannounced to the safehouse, this time holding the sons of John Winchester.

Dean sat drumming his fingers agaist the sterring wheel of his baby, looking at the shack. Weeds grew heavy between him and the front door. Sam checked the notes in the infamous winchester journal, “the last time dad seems to actually have talked about them was ‘97. I can’t find any mention of them again after that”

“So, ten something years."" and it looked like maybe the reason they'd stopped talking was less to do with their dad's habiut of burning bridges everywhere he went and more that something likely ended their myster hunters story the way most of them were desinned to go, ""Pretty sure we hit a dead end sammy.”

Sam closed the book anyway, tossing it up on the dash, as both brothers obsered the house again. It looked like a place that nobody'd bother to go in a decade, forgotten to everyone but a few passing handwritten lines in a dead mans journal “Maybe they left soemthing behind? Best case, maybe something about whatever items they where dealing in?”

He didn't want to voice that they'd driven all this way, that they really counld not leave without at least looking around. They had Heaven and Hell breathing down their necks, and the few people in their corner didn't ave the juice to keep them safe indefinatly.

With a sigh, dean opened his door, and the two brothers stepped out into the weeds, walking up to the delapitatd house.

They’d barely stepped on the porch when dedn’s cell whent off, “Its cas?” he muttered, waving at sam to work on jimming the lock open.

“Hey Cas-”

“Where did you go?!”

Dean frowned, started by the steern but almost manic edge to the angels voice “I told you, we're checking out-”

“You’re gone dean! I can’t sence you at all.”

Sammy paused, looking up from the door as he finsihed pickign te lock. Cas' voice was just shy of panicked, and set both brothers on edge.It was a distraction neither needed right now. Entering a Hunter's house without invitation, no matter how long it had sat empty, was a dangerous thing. It was booby trapped, no doubt, and they both needed to be paying attention before procedding. For thir own sake.

Dean groaned, stepping back off the porch to where the impala was parked in the sun to argue with castiel, suddenly feeling odd having this coversation in earshot of sam. His relation witht he angel was getting more complicated, he felt, and having his little brother wieging in on it was starting to make him feel like some luve-struck teenager. not that he was Love struck or anything.

Some ward must be hidden in the overgrouth, as soon as dean unknowningly stepped across it, “there you are!” came out of the phone speakers, before Castiel was standing /right/ in Dean's face.

“Where is sam?” he asked into the phone, as Dean blanced and hung up on him.

Sam waved from his posiion still on the porch as dean grstured over his way.

Can followed the movement, but looked blankly over at the house, unseeing, as dean stepped away in a huff, grombling at the close quaters.

“In the field?”

“No. on the… cas?”

Castiel looked at dean in confusion, and then back at where sam was standing up. No. not at sam. Still blankly out int space.

“Cas?” sam called, walking over to join them. Cas jerked his head toword the sound, but still saw nothing.

“Sam? Where? I can hear you, but ....“

“Cas? I’m right… i’m like ten feet in front of you?”

Castiel held his arm out, blindly, groping at the air. Dean stood awkwardly at his side, looking worriedly between his angel and his brother. Carefuly, castiel stepped forward. Once.

Twice.

Three steps.

You could see when he hit the wards they hadn't known where even there, a whole body flinch, “Castiel?”

The angel graped dean's arm, grip harsh, his eyes wide and straining.

“Cas? What’s wrong?”

He cocked his head, not his usual gesture of struggling to understand, but more like he was struggling to hear a low far off sound, “I cant…. I cant see anything.. I can’t hear….”

“Cas?”

“Not cleary. Its… /I/ can’t hear you, but.. My vessel can. Jimmy can.”

Head still tilted, he squinted. It was strange, closing his own sight to force his gaze though the limited eyes of his human vessal. Soon, the house and sam came into murky view.

“This house it warded against Heaven’s gaze,” he muttered, Sam reacing out to take his elbow to help him up the porch steps, Dean allowing the agnel his near frantic strangelhild on his own arm to remain.

Inside, the house was just as torn and aged as the outside yard, wallpaper peeling and every surface covered in thic dust. The three of them carefully split up, looking over the room for clues, Casteil taking his time as he had to use only Jimmy's sences, and it took him longer than he would of liked to translate what he was seeing.

“oh man….” dean whispered, pulling a paper from the trash, “sam! look at this”

He held up a newpaper, headline warning of the upcoming Y2K danger. Sam shook his head in desbelief, while cas squinted at it. Pitying him, dean dropped it back in the trash down, “paper’s from 1999.” he explained. Ten years then, since the Hunters had been here.

There where a few salt lines - long since broekn by age, and wards painted around door frames and on the floor. Any traps that Sam or Dean would have had to personally worry about seems to have been long since triggerd just by the natural progression of time, but they moved though the shack looking for any that might still pose a danger. And so the continued exploration went on in otherwise quiet, until sam called out from a back room. Dean and Castiel found him standing in a filled with shelfing units, like a storage system of books, papers, weapons and boxes of assorted items. But specifially, Sam stood before a shelf of clear empty glass jars, but each with a lid that had been permantly sealled closed.

Maybe not empty, Sam feeling something ugly twist in him when he looked at the shelf, and when he came in sight of them, Castiel was staring at them in pure horror. His hands shook as he took one from sam, looking at it cocked eyed

“What is it?”

""I can't..."" He shook his head before taking the jar outside, moving like a man on a mission, dean and sam trialing behind him. He didn’t falter or pause until he’d nearly reached the car. As soon as his sight in unvieled, he dropped the jar with a curse, dean straightening in surprise. The words were echonian, but the intent behind them was clear.

""Cas?” sam questioned, picking the jar up form where it lays in the dry dirt at their feet. Castiel was looking at it what might be muted horror. It seemed empty, but the shadow left under it showed there was clealy something trapped in the glass.

“Cas?” dean asked this time, voice soft and pitched with a soothing quality usually saved for questioning kids or tramatized victums of the supernatural. He too is looking at the jar in sam’s hands questioning, but not able to see anything in the clear glass that would shake their angel freind so badly.

“Feathers from the Host.”

“Feathers? Like…” dean gestered at castiel’s back. The angel, solemn faced, knodded. Sam dropped the jar like it was hot, feeling wrong holding such a thing. The brothers looked back at the house warily, while Castiel can't find himself abel to look away from the jar ont he ground, shining innocently in the sun. it didn’t take much thought or power to summon an end to the jar, the glass shattering with a look and the contents coaxed inside to bursthing into flame once they touched the air.

The three of them stood torn with the overwealming desire to get in the car and never look back, and go back inside and destory any remaining feathers. The hunter insticts should be in over drive to hoard what is clearly poerful articats, but betwwen Castiel's reaction, and thir own fondness for the angel, neither one of them give that instict time to kick in, squashing it under a thick layer of 'I think not'

Once inside again, it didn’t take much looking to find a heavily marked door to the celler; a large steel baricade, unfamilour script paining the panels. “More wards,” castiel said, tracing the patterns and squinting.

“I don’t think i can go down there. Not if i want to leave again,” he warned, looking back at the brothers uneaisly.

Dean nodded, “finish getting rid of the..feathers. Sam and I’ll see whats going on downstairs.”


***

There's a body in the basemnt.

After the jars, the boys whre expecting somehting down there, so the body is not as much of a surpise anymore. How it was left however, is what leaves the season hunters uneasy. It is strung up in iron chains, starveld to skin and bones, left to rot in the dark. Arms streached out to its sides to keep the body upright, but given enough slack to fall it its knees on a heavily pained floor, complex spells on every visible incle of the cement, and the array moving up the walls to meet a matching design carved into the unfinished ceiling, varios object haning form the exposed rafters and pipes all ment to strangthen the trap.

The room smells of herbs and rot. The added horror is the tubing leading from the emancipeded arm to a long overflowed bottle on the counter, long dried blood having run over and flooded the workbench.

“They left the poor bastered bleeding…”

Sam looked away as Dean looked over the contraption, instead focusing on the completely unfamilor wards. At first glace they /looked/ like they might have started with a devils trap base, but none of the symblos are recognisable outright. But they do look like something they might have seen in one of Castiel's few castings.

Dean glanced over the body once more. Thin and naked, not a scrap of dignity affored the condemmed. It eevn looked like they might have shaved the poor bastards hair off, light catching what might be white stubble on its crown. The winchesters might have been cold bloded to monsters, but even this was too far. Whatever the creature was, it was a endowed as a ken doll, and Dean found the common barb he’s thrown at castiel twisting ungly in his gut.

“Think its really.. Ya know.” Dean murmered, not wanted to sound rediculaous, but also not wanting to picture his own angel having been left behind like this creature had been. More then 10 years since anyone had been in this room, yet they hadn’t even learned about angels until Castiel, maybe only a year ago. He gesstured to the macab setup on the counter, jars of dried and crusted blood, a collection of shelves with other untold collections in little containers he didn't want to examine. He thought about the feathers burned away just moments ago in the sun. “How’d they do this? How they learn this, and keep it quiet? No one else has anyhting close, and yet…..”

“They had an angel. And they drained it, cut it up, and sold pieces off to Dad, and Bobby, and how many others. And no one figured it out.”

“Damn…” Dean muttered.

Sam shuffeled from where he was kneeling to inspect to trap, to gently touch where the thick needle had been shoved into a vien in the creatures arm. He carefully pulled the neddle out, tossing the contraption aside, before working to unlock the chains around the bound beings arms. The chains had long broken the skin, had rubbed down to the bone, what flesh still remained dark purple nad bruised. “Its not."" /rotten/ he realised ""Stiff. Not.. cold?” /not dead/ came the dawning comprhension.

It spurred Dean to turn from the table and stepped up behind the creature, hand running around a set of chains behind the … angel … “Damn.” he swore again.

Sam looked up sharply, watching dean trace the chains to where they held /something/ aloft behind him. “...the .. is… Wings?”

Dean look ill, nodding.

Sam glaces at the creature’s face fianlly. It is as brused and wane as the rest of its body, and no expression crosses its features. However, the eyes have slitted open. They don’t look at him, jsut stare out blankely. Sam rests a wary hand on the check, unsure how much awareness the angel has, ""We're getting you out,"" he promised, Dean freezing in his own lock picking to start at Sam in growing horror. /Is it awake?/ he mouths.

Sam catchs his eye, shrugs uncertainly, and they resume their work on the locks. Just plain locks, nothing special, leaving them to note the wards must have been extreamly powerful.

It took time, but sam ans dean undo the shackels to the body. Sam carefully possisions the pale form on the floor; curled on its side, dean easing invisable wings as best as he can guess into folding thm agains its back.

At no point does the creature make any attempt to acknowlege them, barely open eyes still blank.

“Okay, lets get ‘im to Cas”

Sam holds the creatures torso close, funbling with heavy wings he can’t see, while dean holds stick thin elgs to keep them from catching on the steps. The walk is slow, and Dean can feel the spell work on the stairs fighting him. Castiel waits anxiously in the door frame above, unable to see the week points inside the house's wards to help them.

""how much of this house can you break without affecting the stiars, "" sam calls up to him when Dean can't pull their burden any farther. Castiel disappears from veiw, looking over the house and mapping out what he can see from the upper floor.

""Don't wait on the stairs, just in case,"" he says finally, disapperaing from both their views. they dutifuly return to the basement floor, setting the new angel back down for a moment. Sam looks over the wards; the hunter wants to take pictures, copy it down; this was a powerful prision, and could very extramly valuable to replicase. The part of him forever tained by demonic energy /thrills/ at the idea; all the more reason sam looks away, pointabldt keeping from retainng this room in his memories. He looks at the angel laying betwen he and his brother, and it's too easy to see Castiel in his place. Somehting horrible is on the horrizon, but Sam's pretty sure this room will only make it worse.

This time deans leans over to check on the angel, Sam wonders if he's chacing the same ideas out of his own head; he's met with the same blank look sam had recieved. ""anyone home,"" Dean asks reardless, waving a hand a few inches from the creatures face.

it doesn't react, nor does it respond at all when the entire building screams, Castiel tearing it literally into two. The structure above them growns and creaks, threatening to crumble doen on them, but holds fast. The wards do not however, and Castiel joins them in a blink at the stiars base. ""I'll keep the house up until we get out,"" he assures them, and Sam and dean pick thier burnden back up. This time, the wards lets sam and dean pass with ease, and castiel is there to help with doors until they get the body settled into the back seat of the impala. He is looking a the new angel, mortified. “There are wards carved into his body,” castiel warns, looking at down though jimmy’s eyes. “He is still hidden from my sight. Hidden from my touch. I hold him now, but feel nothing.”

The brothers don't say a thing. Once they are settled into the car, Castiel does look back to the building once last time, and the whole structure collapses in on itself.

""Any chance you wanna light it up for us too, while youre at it?"" dean asks, white knucked on the stearing wheel, but refusing to look at either hte house or the back seat in his rear-view mirror. Sam looks away from the two angelic entities in the car to study the house, nodding absently mindedly at dean''s request.

Castiel is more than happy to agree. He glances one last time to the building, making sure to keep hte erupting flames from catching the grasses the have weeded their way up to the now collabpsed walls, before he forces himself to push the entire thing from his mind.

The body resting aginst him is a solid weight to Jimmy's sences, but without the human's vessel to filter things, Castiel wound't even have known one of his brothers was crumbled next to him. Becuase of that, Castiel can't even reach out to learn /who/ is curled next to him. No name, and no idea how long he's been missing from Heaven's roll call."