Refugees

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Refugees

A Supernatural story by Jennie @DeanIsntFine, @CallMeClarence and @jacklovesnougat

The angel sat with his back against the rough, pockmarked plaster wall, head up, eyes to the night sky. Keeping watch for Russian warplanes over this bombed-out shell of a city in Syria.
Castiel had spent the long day doing what he could, healing the injured children -- just enough to not draw undue attention -- and trying to put a smile on their battered and blank faces. Life under siege was no life for a child. He’d showed up at the refugee center and pitched right in, no questions asked, no explanations given. None were needed. These humans were stripped to their basest layer -- survival -- and any hope, even from a stranger in a trenchcoat, was welcome. And Cas had much to atone for. His conscience still ached over what he’d done to Donatello, and from the sting of Dean’s rebuke. It felt like the brain-dead prophet sat atop a tall, teetering heap of Castiel’s past sins, one that sometimes threatened to topple and overwhelm him. The angel took a deep breath. He couldn’t worry about any of that now. What mattered was the mission. Find the fruit. Work the spell. Bring Jack and Mary home. Stop Michael. Trap Lucifer. Whatever it takes. Castiel looked over at the sleeping children huddled on the floor, and at the wakeful parents who watched over them, haunted by the knowledge that they couldn’t keep their babies safe. He felt the usual pang of sorrow for humanity. So violent, so destructive. So lost. Cas had bonded with a handful of humans over the eons -- including a certain flawed, flanneled warrior who’d thumbed his nose at fate, the angels, even God himself. The one whose pain and persistence had inspired Castiel to rebel. But his bond with Jack was different. Fatherhood was different. Belonging to the Winchesters was an honor, a privilege, a choice. Belonging to Jack was… terrifying. Fatherhood, Castiel thought again. Soaring pride, unbridled joy. And a constant state of terror. To be sure, his nephilim was a being of immense, untapped power and potential. But wasn’t every child? That was the real fear for a parent: How did you harness that potential? How could you be sure you were steering your child onto the right path? How could you be sure you wouldn’t fail him? Well, I’m certainly failing him now, the angel thought ruefully. He’s trapped in another reality, at the mercy of a monster. Cas knew Jack was alive… ever since the boy had reached out to him from Kelly’s womb, Castiel could feel Jack’s life force like a ping, a thrum that rippled through his grace. That ping was very faint now, as faint as the whisper of his name that had woken him in the Empty. But it was there. It was there. Castiel closed his eyes and reached out, with his mind, with his grace. He reached out for Jack. Impossible. But he had to try. ***

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The nephilim sat with his back against the rough bark of a tall tree, head up, eyes to the night sky. Keeping watch for angels that would strike from above. Jack had spent the long day helping out around the compound, playing with the children, making them smile, freeing up the adults to rearm and restock the camp. To get ready for Michael’s next attack. Jack had fought off the angel strikes, limiting the damage and casualties. But he knew the humans in camp feared him. And he knew they resented the trouble that he and Mary had brought. Bobby was Mary’s friend, but the gruff old man felt no such affection for Jack, and he grew less welcoming by the day. Jack let the ghost of a smile dance across his face, briefly fantasizing about turning Bobby into an emu. Or a quivering heap of nougat. The nephilim’s smile was as fleeting as the children’s had been. He was getting stronger. He was. But alone, in the quiet times, Jack still felt weak. Unsure. His mother had wanted him to help humans, to make the world a better place. But how could he be sure he was on the right path? Everyone here was so brave. And with everything that was stacked against them, they still had hope. How could he be sure he wouldn’t fail them? Well, I’m certainly failing them now, the nephilim thought bitterly, as his darker emotions took hold. Impatience. Frustration. The mission was to stop Michael. To stop Lucifer. To bring Mary home. Jack’s eyes began to flare gold in the dim light. He was failing! He was letting his family down! The nephilim took a deep breath, eyes back to smoky blue. He couldn’t worry about any of that now. He was here. In this world. And he had to do what he could to help. He had to make Castiel proud. Jack could feel his father, faintly, even here. Impossibly far away, but somehow close. Weariness overtook him, and the nephilim closed his eyes. He reached out, with his mind, with his spirit. Castiel... Sitting back to back in the darkness, in different war zones, across the universes, they spoke. *** I’m so tired… are you there, Castiel? I’m here, Jack. I knew you were. I could feel you. And I you. To tell the truth, it’s what keeps me going. The humans here … they never give up. Like Sam and Dean. Yes… When I first met the Winchesters, I finally understood how beautiful humanity is, why Chuck loved them so much. What were Sam and Dean like then? They were younger and a little more innocent. Dean was funny, but you know that, and he was such a fighter already. They both were our only hope for so long. Still are, I suppose. But they won’t be around forever. Is it strange? Watching people get old, knowing that you never will? It is strange. And kind of heartbreaking. Eternity is a scary perspective when your soul belongs with humans. What about me? What will happen to me? You are immortal, Jack. We have forever to be together and make the world a better place. So... Will I have to watch the people I love die, too? It’s our burden. We will. And it will be painful, Jack. But that’s the beauty of loving humanity. Because humans are mortal, you have to love them more intensely because you don’t have much time. I do love them, Castiel. Even though at first I didn’t think I knew what emotions were, now I know I do. Can’t we keep them with us? They can’t live forever, Jack. And we can’t make them. The fragility of humanity is what makes it so precious. It’s beautiful how they compensate in intensity for what they lack in time. I don’t like it. I don’t like to see them suffer. Suffering is what makes us really alive, Jack. You never know how happy you really are if you never feel the pain. That is why you must love, and love infinitely, because you can’t know what is going to happen. I can’t imagine living without Sam and Dean -- yet, I will. I want to come home. I don’t want to keep wasting time. We are working on it. Day in, day out. And we will have plenty of time to be together. I promise you that. You will have a lot of happiness, because you’ve already had more than your share of pain. Do you promise? I promise. On my grace. *** And Jack slept. His father, eyes wide in the dark, kept watch.