HOME | DD

Description
Wake Up Call A short, Castiel-centric fic

"Sammy, time to get up," Dean murmured, shaking Sam's arm as I watched.

Sam looked so innocent as he slept, one arm curved under a pillow and the other curved around another pillow, cradling it to his chest like a lover. He was in a deep sleep; not a nightmare in sight at this time. His hair was tousled and sleep-mussed and, as I could tell even now, it was going to take more than his brother's gentle words to wake him up.

Dean sighed. "Sam! The hotel room is on fire!"

Sam sat straight up in bed, eyes wide and frightened.

"Sam, he was kidding. The hotel is not on fire," I assured him from my position by the window, leaning against the wall peacefully as I smiled at him.

"What the hell, Cas? Do you get off on scaring the crap out of me?" Dean asked, jumping back a foot.

I cocked my head at him. "What?"

Sam groaned, laying down and rolling over, burying his head under the covers.
"Could you guys not do that this early in the morning?" he asked, his voice muffled by the blankets.

"It isn't morning, Sammy. It's noon."

"Oh."

****************************************************************

Although it wasn't a word I used to describe many things with any consistency, the memory that popped into my head was -without a doubt- adorable. I found a smile slowly pulling at my lips.

"Oh, Brother, do share. What part of this is amusing to you?" Lucifer purred out in my ear. I shivered in revulsion.

"Nothing," I returned coolly, my body -or, more over, my vessel- easily reminding me of the situation I was in. Certainly, there was nothing for me to find amusing about my being hung from a meat hook by a rope attached to the handcuffs around my wrists. And there was definitely nothing amusing about the beating I'd received a few minutes before, or the way that Lucifer was bleeding me -and ingesting my blood- for his personal entertainment.

The only upside I could find in my current situation was that the those soulless, empty eyes that Lucifer looked at me through were chocolate brown, not the familiar blue-green eyes of Sam Winchester. No, Lucifer was not in his true vessel, thank God, and, Heaven knew, Michael wouldn't be in his unless Dean gave in, and Dean had a will like steel.

A sharp pain told me that Lucifer was slitting my cheek open -probably with his nail, like he had been doing for the past twenty or so times- and then a warm tongue lapped at the blood.

My stomach turned something related to inside out, and I fought my urge to vomit -which was really interesting because I hadn't eaten anything.

Please, Sam, Dean. Make this worth it, I pled as I closed my eyes against the horror of my own situation.

Just in time for a huge explosion, blinding pain, and then nothing.

:) (Smile) — Description
Wake Up Call A short, Castiel-centric fic

"Sammy, time to get up," Dean murmured, shaking Sam's arm as I watched.

Sam looked so innocent as he slept, one arm curved under a pillow and the other curved around another pillow, cradling it to his chest like a lover. He was in a deep sleep; not a nightmare in sight at this time. His hair was tousled and sleep-mussed and, as I could tell even now, it was going to take more than his brother's gentle words to wake him up.

Dean sighed. "Sam! The hotel room is on fire!"

Sam sat straight up in bed, eyes wide and frightened.

"Sam, he was kidding. The hotel is not on fire," I assured him from my position by the window, leaning against the wall peacefully as I smiled at him.

"What the hell, Cas? Do you get off on scaring the crap out of me?" Dean asked, jumping back a foot.

I cocked my head at him. "What?"

Sam groaned, laying down and rolling over, burying his head under the covers.
"Could you guys not do that this early in the morning?" he asked, his voice muffled by the blankets.

"It isn't morning, Sammy. It's noon."

"Oh."

****************************************************************

Although it wasn't a word I used to describe many things with any consistency, the memory that popped into my head was -without a doubt- adorable. I found a smile slowly pulling at my lips.

"Oh, Brother, do share. What part of this is amusing to you?" Lucifer purred out in my ear. I shivered in revulsion.

"Nothing," I returned coolly, my body -or, more over, my vessel- easily reminding me of the situation I was in. Certainly, there was nothing for me to find amusing about my being hung from a meat hook by a rope attached to the handcuffs around my wrists. And there was definitely nothing amusing about the beating I'd received a few minutes before, or the way that Lucifer was bleeding me -and ingesting my blood- for his personal entertainment.

The only upside I could find in my current situation was that the those soulless, empty eyes that Lucifer looked at me through were chocolate brown, not the familiar blue-green eyes of Sam Winchester. No, Lucifer was not in his true vessel, thank God, and, Heaven knew, Michael wouldn't be in his unless Dean gave in, and Dean had a will like steel.

A sharp pain told me that Lucifer was slitting my cheek open -probably with his nail, like he had been doing for the past twenty or so times- and then a warm tongue lapped at the blood.

My stomach turned something related to inside out, and I fought my urge to vomit -which was really interesting because I hadn't eaten anything.

Please, Sam, Dean. Make this worth it, I pled as I closed my eyes against the horror of my own situation.

Just in time for a huge explosion, blinding pain, and then nothing.