THE ELEVENTH HOUR [Castiel x F!Reader]

6

"I just want to go over it again," you announce, "salt, holy water, demon knife, silver, shotguns-"

"We've got everything, doll," Dean confirms, looking down at the array of weapons, "plus every protective sigil known to man."

You nod, chewing on your lip as you look up at the interior of the barn. It's covered in spray-painted symbols. There's still this uneasy feeling that you can't shake, like adrenaline and anticipation mixed with the need to run far, far away.

"We're sure we found the right ritual?" You ponder, receiving a glare from Bobby, "Sorry."

"Touchy, touchy, huh?" Dean widens his eyes, giving you a look that makes you smile, "Don't worry so much. We're all pros here."

A loud gust of wind rattles the roof, causing you to freeze up. Your hands clench at your sides. Bobby and Dean arm themselves with shotguns, separating to stand at opposite ends of the warehouse. Bobby stands closer to the door. You have a flask of holy water in your back pocket and the demon knife in your hand. You stand in front of Dean.

"Y/N," Dean calls out to you, as the rattling begins to grow louder, "come here."

"No," you tell him, eyes facing the barn door the entire time, "it's here for you, I'm not letting it come near you, Dean."

"Wishful thinking, but maybe it's just the wind," Dean exclaims over the noise.

All of a sudden, the barn door bursts open. Through the doorway, a figure walks in. You notice his deep blue eyes, framed in a tough gaze. His hair is dark. He wears a suit, adorning a long trench coat over it. When he walks through the barn, the lightbulbs on the ceiling shatter, raining glass down on you - reminiscent of the mirrored ceiling in the hotel. Dean and Bobby open fire, you see the shots go into his chest. He doesn't slow down, doesn't even seem to take any damage.

Dean rips the knife from your grip and you protest, but he pushes you behind him, as the man approaches.

"Who are you?" Dean interrogates him, knife ready in his hand.

When the man speaks, his voice is deep and calm, unfiltered by the attack on him, "I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition."

"Yeah. Thanks for that," Dean shrugs, launching his arm back and plunging the knife into its chest. You watch, eyes wide, as he looks down at the knife, pulling it out and letting it drop to the floor.

"Castiel?" You speak up, meeting his blue eyes. They seem to soften and you aren't sure why. You narrow your eyes at the gesture.

From behind him, Bobby attacks. With his eyes still on yours, Castiel grabs Bobby's weapon and uses it to swing him around. It only takes a single touch to Bobby's forehead that leaves the old man slowly falling to the ground.

You look at Castiel in horror, holding yourself back from rushing up to Bobby, "What did you do to him?" You stand beside Dean, who gives you a cautionary look.

"Your friend is alive," Castiel reassures you, "I only came to talk."

"What are you?" Dean asks harshly, untrustworthy of the stranger.

"I'm an Angel of the Lord," he announces with a hint of pride to his proclamation. When Castiel meets your gaze, he notices your stunned expression. He's used to people not believing him.

"Get the hell out of here," Dean sneers, "There's no such thing."

"This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith," he tells him, glancing up at the sky for a moment. In an instant, a flash of lightning crosses the sky, illuminating the barn. Behind Castiel, a great shadow is cast from the lightning. Stretching out behind him is the silhouette of large wings. The light goes out and the image then disappears.

"Some angel you are," Dean mutters, "You burned out that poor woman's eyes."

"Pamela," you add, looking between Dean and Castiel, "she tried to contact you, to see your face."

"Yes," Castiel gives you a nod, "I warned her not to spy on my true form. It can be... overwhelming to humans. And so can my real voice," he looks between the two of you, "But you already knew that."

"The ringing sound?" You tilt your head at him, furrowing your eyebrows. As you think back to the past week, you think of the ringing in your head. Could that have been him? It wasn't as intense as the hotel... maybe not.

A look crosses Deans face as he realises, "You mean the gas station and the motel. That was you talking? Buddy, next time, lower the volume."

Castiel looks down, "That was my mistake. Certain people, special people, can perceive my true visage. I thought you or Y/N would be one of them. I was wrong," he admits, "oftentimes, we visit in different ways; such as visions or dreams."

Meeting Castiel's eyes, your lips part in confusion and half realisation.

"Have you tried to visit us in dreams?" You wonder.

"Yes," he answers honestly, "we've spoken before, Y/N."

"What?" Dean breathes, "You've been rendezvousing with Freddy Kruger and you never told me?"

You shake your head, staring at Castiel and, unable to explain yourself, "I-I didn't know it was him. He looked... different."

Castiel gives you a knowing expression, "I apologise for the confusion. It was only to bring you peace, not to delude you."

Dean eyes you, seeing the expression on your face. You seem thankful, a small smile on your face. "It did," you tell Castiel, "it did bring me peace."

"Good," Castiel responds with the hint of a smile on his own lips too.

"And what visage are you in now, huh? What, holy tax accountant?" Dean questions him, looking him up and down. There are bullet holes in his clothes, but no blood, and no wound.

"This?" Castiel looks down at himself, hands stretched out in front of him ever-so-slightly, "This is... a vessel."

"You're possessing some poor bastard?" Dean spits, jaw clenching slightly.

Castiel a voice is the opposite of Deans, calm and level, "He's a devout man, he actually prayed for this."

"Well," Dean's face falls, "I'm not buying what you're selling, so who are you really?"

"I told you," Castiel frowns, seeming to not understand Deans lack of faith.

You look to Dean, "Dean, you don't believe him?"

He looks right back at you, "You do? I mean, come on. Why would an angel rescue me from Hell?"

"Good things do happen, Dean," Castiel reminds him, giving him a genuine look of content.

Deans having none of it, "Not in my experience."

Castiel tilts his head at Dean. The gesture is so familiar, you've seen it in your dreams, you're sure of that much. "What's the matter, Dean?" He asks, "You don't think you deserve to be saved?"

"Why'd you do it?" Dean asks him.

"Because God commanded it," Castiel announces, looking at Dean with a determined gaze, "Because we have work for you."