sasha_dragon (sasha_dragon) wrote,
sasha_dragon
sasha_dragon

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Legacy, 1/1, PG, Castiel

Title: Legacy
Word Count: 1536
Summary: Left alone in the Bunker, Cas ponders the nature of Legacy.
Disclaimer: Are we still doing these? Look, I don't own ‘em, never have and I don't make a penny out of these little scribbles, so please don't sue.
Notes: Before you read any further here be a warning. This is not my usual fluffy kind of piece. There's still hope at the end but this is a bit of a sad one. There's a couple of people who I'd like to thank for their help with this. Firstly, bigj52, a beta without compare and a woman with the patience of a saint, who turns my scribbles into English and chellexxx ,Obi, enabler, partner in crime and hand-holder extraordinaire. Thank you for putting up with my wibbling.


The familiar growl of the Impala's engine died away as Castiel sat, staring out the windshield. He'd rarely sat in the front of the car, shotgun was usually reserved for Sam. So sitting in the driver's seat was a strange feeling.  Cas gripped the steering wheel tightly as he breathed in the acrid scent of smoke that lingered on his clothes. He closed his eyes against the threat of tears and felt the heat of the funeral pyre against his face once more.

He knew he should get out of the car, but he couldn't bring himself to leave the safety of the Impala just yet.  She had been the Winchesters’ home long before the Bunker, and this was where he felt their presence more clearly.

After a while, Cas lost track of time and for all he knew, days could've passed as he sat there in silence, but he didn't care. The final battle had been fought and won. There had been losses, and some were harder to bear than others. The hardest one for him to come to terms with was the loss of Sam and Dean. His only consolation was they died as they'd lived, fighting side by side, battling against insurmountable odds. Their sacrifice had given him and Jack the time they needed to strike the final blow.

Once again, the world owed the Winchesters a debt of gratitude so great it could never be repaid. The worst part was no one would know how much they owed the two brothers, who'd stood against the darkness time and time again.

Finally, Cas couldn't bear to sit in the Impala any longer. The smell and the heat from the pyre had long since faded away and now he was left alone. He could've gone back to Heaven with Jack, but he wanted to see the Bunker one last time. He steeled himself and pushed open the Impala's door, managing a smile at the familiar creak. It always surprised him that Dean never fixed the creak, as his Baby was in pristine condition. But he'd come to suspect that Dean deliberately allowed the doors to creak. It was a comforting sound, a sound that told the Winchesters they were home.

Cas swallowed hard. Dean would never hear that sound again unless Baby was there in Dean's heaven, along with Sam. He really hoped that was the case, he couldn't imagine the brothers without their beloved car. If the Impala wasn't with them, then a very pissed Dean Winchester would probably be staging a breakout to demand Naomi deliver his Baby to him.

The thought of Dean driving Naomi crazy made Cas very happy, so he got out of the car and carefully shut the door. He absently patted the roof and thought Dean would never forgive him if he didn't treat her right. That thought triggered a fresh wave of grief. He'd always known he would lose the Winchesters eventually, it was the nature of the relationship between a celestial being and humans.  But nothing he’d ever imagined helped to prepare him for the gut-wrenching loss and emptiness that had taken hold of him since that day.

Cas steeled himself as he walked away from the car and into the Bunker. Everywhere he looked were memories of the brothers. He walked past the kitchen and heard Dean's laughter, as Sam complained about the three-day-old takeout stinking up the fridge. Then came the Fortress of Deanitude, and the nights they'd sat watching the television, listening to Dean cheering on Jon Snow, and asking Sam if he was jealous of his hair.

Cas passed the library and paused, his eyes lingering on the leather armchair in the corner. He’d often found Sam sitting there, reading quietly, while Dean was in his room cleaning the guns or in the kitchen, cooking.

As he entered the meeting room, he was drawn to one of the tables, which was exactly as the brothers had left it.  On one side sat Sam's laptop, still waiting for his return, and on the other was an empty glass. For a split second, he thought he saw them again. Sam researching lore on his laptop, while Dean sat with his feet on the table, drinking a glass of whiskey.

 Cas stood by the table and looked down at the initials carved into it. He reached out and followed the shapes of the letters with his fingertips, once again his eyes stung with unshed tears. Dean, Sam and Mary made these marks. He'd asked Sam one day why they'd decided to vandalize the Bunker's furniture.

Sam smiled and explained that one day Dean had asked what their legacy would be. Sam talked about how he'd told Dean that in a hundred years no one would remember them. They weren't the kind of people who were written about in history books. Their greatest legacy was the people they saved, and the hope they'd left the world a better place than they found it. Dean understood what Sam was saying, but he still wanted to leave some kind of tangible proof they'd been in the Bunker. It was then Dean and Sam carved their initials into the table for posterity, thinking that perhaps the next hunter who moved in would see the initials, and wonder who they were.

Cas looked away from the initials; it was time for him to go. He decided to find Bobby and give him the keys to the Bunker. This was the last time he'd come here, as everything that made it home was gone. As he turned to walk away from the table a phone began to ring. The sound made Cas look around in surprise. He was certain the Winchesters had taken their phones with them.

 He followed the sound to the War Room and saw Dean's phone on the map table. He reached for the phone, then hesitated, not knowing whether he should answer it. Then he heard Dean's voice in his head, "Cas, pick up the damn phone, there's somebody in trouble out there."

As always when Dean told him to do something, Cas obeyed. He picked up the phone and answered it. "Hello."

"Dean? Thank God you answered. I got a problem." A man shouted down the phone at Cas.

"This isn't Dean," Cas replied.  He wasn't surprised the man on the other end of the phone was unaware of the Winchesters’ death. As good as the hunter grapevine was, the news about Sam and Dean hadn't reached the wider hunting community yet.

"Who the hell are you, and why have you got Dean Winchester's phone?" The man growled threateningly.

"I'm Castiel."

"Shit! You're the Winchesters’ Angel. "The man paused as if considering what to do. "Ok, if Dean can't come to the phone right now, then you might be able to help me instead."

Cas wanted to tell the man that Dean would never be able to come to the phone again and he wouldn't be able to help him. But once again Dean's voice whispered in his ear, telling him to stop acting like wuss and get his feathery ass in gear. Cas steeled himself. "What can I do to help?"

"My partner's been bitten by a Wolpertinger some Jackass smuggled over from the old country, and it's poisoned him. You got any idea how to help him?"

"Hold on. I'll look it up," Cas answered as he ran for Sam's laptop.

"I thought Angels knew everything."

"Some of us like to pretend we do," Cas responded as he sat down and turned on the laptop. When the password prompt popped up Cas smiled. He'd watched Sam type it in often enough so he quickly typed ‘SphttFb*79’.

Cas brought up Sam's database and typed in ‘Wolpertinger’. It appeared the creature was from Germany and was apparently a rabbit with deer antlers, duck wings, and fangs. He couldn't even begin to imagine how someone managed to smuggle a creature like that into the country. A few more clicks and he had everything he needed for the antidote.

"The antidote is fairly simple. Are you ready?" Cas asked.

"Ready whenever you are." Cas quickly went through the ingredients and how to use the antidote, and when he finished the hunter said to him, "Thanks. Next time you, Sam and Dean are down Texas way, drop in and we'll have a beer." The hunter hung up before Cas could explain what had happened to the brothers.

He sat back and looked at the initials again and thought about the Winchesters’ legacy. The people they'd saved and the people that still needed saving, and he came to a decision. Cas scrolled through Dean's contacts until he came to ‘Not Bobby’ and pressed ‘call’. Bobby answered after two rings.

"Whatever stinking demon has got their mits on Dean's phone better start runnin' now because this crap ain't funny. When I find you, you're gonna be getting a holy water enema." Bobby snarled.

"Bobby’ it's me."

"Cas? I thought you'd have gone back to heaven by now," Bobby said.

Cas patted Sam's laptop and smiled determinedly. "I've decided to stay a while. I've got a legacy to continue."



 
Tags: fic
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