One-Shot: I Get that a Lot: SPN

[patriciatepes]

Author Name: Patriciatepes
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG
Characters: Castiel, Dean, Sam, necessary angelic OCs
Recipient: grasshopr_molly
Warnings: Spoilers up until the current season (10)
Summary: It's not the first time Castiel has ever been asked to reconsider… and it won't be the last time he decides not to.
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any related characters. They belong to Kripke. No money made here.
Word Count: ~1400
Author's Notes: Written for spnspiration's April Fool's Challenge for grasshopr_molly's prompt, which was "Castiel-You know the job was dangerous when you took it." I also was inspired to use this prompt to fill my spnspiration bingo square, non-linearity. See end notes for additional thoughts.

---

I Get that a Lot

"You should reconsider," Annette says, frowning.

She's a pretty angel, one of the rare few whose Enochian name is unpronounceable in any human tongue, let alone English. So she goes by her vessel's name, and it's a name that fits, like some do. The vessel possesses long blonde hair that Annette—the angel, not the vessel—chooses to wear free-flowing. Her skin is the color of cream with just a bit of rose hidden under her cheeks. Her eyes are a bright green, like the color of a leaf in the full of summer. She is kind, gentle, and Castiel has a hard time imagining her fighting in Heaven's Civil War. He flashes her a small grin, the kind where his mouth is barely upturned, but the emotion is clear in his blue eyes.

"I get that a lot."

#

"So, you've rebelled against Heaven and joined us mere mortals in attempting to stop the Apocalypse. What are you gonna do next?" Dean asks from his place in the driver's seat of the Impala.

His voice is strange, and Castiel is vaguely aware that this is probably some sort of reference in an attempt to make light of a heavy situation, a heavy choice. But he doesn't understand that reference, like so many of the others. So, his head cocked just to the right, he glances sideways at Dean from the passenger seat—Sam is waiting at the motel for his brother, who possesses the fast food for their dinner this evening.

"I suppose I am going to continue my search for God, using your amulet. He would know better than anyone how to stop the Apocalypse, since he is this world's Creator."

Dean chuckles, and Castiel was sure he'd missed the joke. The eldest Winchester shakes his head.

"There's no down time for you, is there?" he asks.

Brow still furrowed, Castiel gives a slight shake of his head. "I don't understand."

"Down time. Me time. Relaxation. Time off work. To do stuff you enjoy. Do angels not have hobbies?"

Castiel's expression softens. "I enjoy watching humans."

"I'm pretty sure that's called stalking."

"I do not follow any particular one. Unless I am ordered to… which, it appears, won't be the case anymore, will it?"

Dean's mouth is tugged into a frown. "Sorry."

"For what? You've done nothing. I chose to rebel."

"Because of Sam and me. Because we talked you into it."

Now it is Castiel's turn to chuckle. "I believe I'm not quite as… mentally pliable as that."

#

Heaven has been recreated to look like an office building. Or, at least, that's what the section the angels have claimed looks like. The door from Earth to Heaven deposits you right outside a set of clear glass doors, and beyond those were desks, plural. And beyond that is the room Metatron had created to serve as his study, but is now just a large, corner office. No angel has claimed it, but Castiel is often ushered into it, as if he owns it. He does not like the idea of being at the head the angels, since the last time that had happened, it had ended in a disaster. But when he arrives in Heaven, after his conversation with Annette, he is once again ushered into the office by Janet, who would be the absolute perfect office manager on Earth.

"We didn't know you would be visiting, Castiel," she says by way of greeting once the office door is closed behind her.

"I apologize if I'm interrupting any important work," he says. "But you are exactly who I was looking forward to speaking with."

Janet's brow—as dark as he hair—arches. "Me?"

Castiel nods. "Yes. You see, I have a… task. It's something I've been thinking about for a while. And I think we could benefit from it."

"What do you mean? We're doing just fine here, Castiel. We've reclaimed Heaven. We're allowing souls to enter as they should, and the reapers have gone back to work. We're almost at normal working capacity."

"What about the rogues?" he asks.

Janet flinches. He can almost feel shame rolling off of Janet's vessel even as she stands before him. The rogue angels, the rogue reapers, those beings that wouldn't return to Heaven when requested, they are a black mark on Janet's otherwise perfect record. Castiel raises a hand, trying to wave away the almost tangible uneasiness that has formed in the air.

"I'm not here to question your work, Janet. It's fine work, better than any could hope for. And you know where I stand on the rogues."

Her mauve painted lips purse. "That they should be watched, in case they do harm to humans, but otherwise left to be. Not forced to return to Heaven, but rather asked. Repeatedly. To no end."

"Janet," Castiel says softly.

"I apologize, Commander," she says, and Castiel sighs.

He hates that title, but his fellow angels are still adapting to this odd freedom they have been given. He has tried to bat the title away, but the unfamiliarity of being a true team, rather than a squad with a leader, has driven some of the angels into a state of almost hysterical panic in the past. Janet, of course, has been one of those who had panicked.

"I'm here to discuss a different strategy for the rogues."

Janet nods. "I'm listening."

#

Disappointment heavy in the air, Sam glances at Castiel, determined to make conversation.

"So… how does it feel?" the youngest Winchester asks.

"That the door to Heaven was a joke?" Castiel asks, a bit more roughly than he intended.

"Um, no," Sam says quietly. "Actually, I was talking about all this pop culture knowledge that Metatron has suddenly shoved into your head."

"What? How is that relevant to the situation at hand?" Castiel asks.

Sam shrugs. "Just making conversation."

Castiel sighs, and he lets several moments pass before he finally answers.

"It feels… like nothing and something all at the same time. All of a sudden, I feel as if I understand humanity better than I ever have, even during my brief stint as a human. Even then, I still feel… alienated. Like there's some joke in all this knowledge that I'm still missing."

"I don't think there is," Sam notes. "I think… I think it's just entertainment."

"But the fandoms are all so… they fight over what they think is best, they fight amongst each other, but the moment their way of life is insulted, they all band together for the right to be fans."

Sam glances at Castiel from out of the corner of his eye. "Fandoms?"

Castiel gently taps his right temple with his forefinger. "Metatron put that knowledge in there too. Apparently, there are references and things that only exist within the fan community, that didn't come from the original source. I guess he thought it important in case he made some sort of witty reference to a fandom's inside joke."

Sam huffs out a laugh. "Thorough."

"I cannot argue that."

#

It has taken time, but the plan is enacted. Janet, of course, has asked Castiel to reconsider, just like Annette had. And, again, he has shrugged it off.

They are on Earth, most of the Heavenly Host. Only a few remains in Heaven, in order to ensure stability. They are the trusted, those left behind. But Castiel knows that the job of staying in Heaven rather than dealing with his plan is a much desired one. Nevertheless, he is grateful for the angels who have appeared.

The rogues are here as well, and they have rented out the entire park for the better part of a week. It is a beautiful, green place, and it reminds Castiel of how the Garden appears every time he visits it. Except, of course, for the equipment. Outdoor gaming equipment never appears in his version of the Garden.

Each side—those who have returned home, and the rogues—are working with appointed team leaders, organizing this event. Annette, with Castiel's recommendation, has been chosen to lead the team of angels who chose Heaven as their home arena. Janet, along with Castiel, stands at the back, taking it all in.

"Games, Castiel?" she asks.

"Hobbies. Fun. Healthy competition. Humans partake in this all the time," Castiel answers.

"And you expect… civility?"

"Yes, while we exert our energies on these games, friendly conversation will be encouraged."

Janet sighs, shaking her head. "It's dangerous."

Castiel nods, and he thinks briefly on his two favorite humans, the inspirations behind these games. His reply is very Dean-like in its nature.

"I knew that when I conceived this plan."

---

End Notes: Okay, so I don't know where the conversation about fandoms came from. It wasn't planned in my original vision of this fic. I also don't know where the present tense came from as I really hate writing in it. I hope I haven't goofed it up really bad anywhere. But, I hope everyone enjoys this—especially grasshopr_molly—and I hope it fulfilled the requirements of the challenge!

Comments

[twisted-slinky.livejournal.com]

Hahaha, loved this! I can totally see Cas coming up with this idea, too. You know how much I like nonlinear writing, so it probably comes as no surprised that I enjoyed that element of this. And the fandom line was great :D

[grasshopr-molly.livejournal.com]

I guess I should comment here instead of on the comm, huh?

I just kind of wonder how long it's going to be before the "loyal" angels start making bets to come back with the rogues. :)