Castiel (tree_topper) wrote in knowhereic, @ 2017-08-14 23:56:00 |
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Entry tags: | fullmetal alchemist: canon: roy mustang, haloverse: canon: york, supernatural: canon: castiel, the dresden files: canon: carlos ramirez |
Who: Carlos Ramirez, Roy Mustang & York (With Castiel)
What: Two virgins, an angel and an AI try to help a Lady’s Man with girlfriend troubles.
When: Morning
Where: Out and about on Knowhere
Rating: PG-13 - And SO funny. You need this log in your life.
Status: Log - Complete
Roy was going to be an old man one day. He was going to look back on his time in Knowhere and he was going to remember the first time he’d met York. He’d remember his bickering matches with Ed. He’d remember the first time he kissed Riza Hawkeye. He’d remember the first time he’d made love to her on that nondescript couch. He’d remember today. But he’d wish he didn’t. “When I was young, I never needed anyone, and makin’ love was just for fun.. Those days are gone--” That was York. He was singing, and had been for about a minute and a half, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. The song had sounded a little depressing in the beginning, but it wasn’t like Roy had really been listening. York, after all, was only talk-singing as they walked along, sticking close to the Colonel and enjoying being the tallest (for once). The poor Colonel had no idea what was coming, but surely the young Mr. Ramirez knew exactly what was going to happen. Maybe, if Carlos was feeling playful, he’d join in. “All by myself.. Don’t wanna be.. All by my~yyself... anymoo~ooore!” Yeah. That wasn’t quiet. At. All. And it lasted about fifteen seconds. Poor, poor Roy. York had even done the little, frantic drumming motions. Because that was required when you sang the song, man. Required. Bet Mustang wished his Alchemist specialty was melting into a puddle now. People stared. York didn’t care. *** Roy seemed to be questioning his life decisions a lot this week. He questioned his choice to come outside with these two morons almost immediately upon meeting York’s cheerful face and then Mr. Ramirez’s - deciding his life would have run a better course if today hadn’t happened, well before it had even begun. It was too early in the morning for their level of joviality and the Colonel had spent a good portion of their walk stiffly stalking behind them with his expression getting progressively more sour. York was singing now. He’d been singing the same string of words over and over which made the Colonel grit his teeth and glare. It didn’t dissuade York anymore than it had ever dissuaded Havoc or Falman from being idiots. When the hell had the big blonde become immune to Roy’s glares? That just irritated him more. And then York belted out that ridiculous line and everyone turned to stare. Even Carlos paused and pivoted to look back at York, his brows raising slightly and his lips parting in surprise. “Dude,” The little wizard (the shortest one among them) said, “What the fuck was that?” He stared at York for several long seconds then shook his head, his hair bouncing a little, then he turned back, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like ‘white people.’ What happened to York not cramping his style? The Colonel covered his face with a hand and wondered what he’d done in life to make this a part of it. Slowly, the crowd started going back to their own business. Some people looked amused anyway, good job York, for brightening their days at least. *** What happened to Latin boys with swords not being able to have their style cramped? Some of those amused glances came with chuckles, and there were even two women who had caught sight of the man and had smiled flirtatiously at him. One had wiggled her fingers and York gave her a little salute, which had the two women laughing and watching the trio of men carry on. See, he was fine with women when he wasn’t trying to be fine with women, idiot soldier. But it wasn’t York they were out here for. “What? It’s a song. It was crazy popular way back in your day, old man.” The golden boy remarked with a smile over at him. “Come on, that was awesome.” Unfortunately, neither of the men he was with had found it nearly as amusing as some of the other people around them. “Tough crowd-- come on, Colonel, relax. Carlos here is an expert with women, he says what we need is a second date. I agree. And a gift. And flowers.” Girls liked flowers, right? Carolina didn’t. And he wasn’t sure anyone had ever tried to give Tex flowers. Maybe that was for the best. “I still think you should get her a gun. Girls like guns.” So said the soldier, who only had soldier friends. Of course they liked guns. *** “Old, I ain’t old,” Carlos replied flippantly, “Do I look like the kind of person that watches Bridget Jones’ Diary?” Of course he recognized the song. “I grew up with Born in East LA, you know, some Cheech and Chong bullshit. Now that’s a classic. I was boorrn in East LA.” He sang the last words this time, grinning wickedly when the Colonel shot him an ugly look, too. He was just as immune to Roy Mustang’s dirty looks as York was; having Captain Anastasia Luccio as your boss did that. No one was more terrifying or capable of making Carlos respect anything as that woman was. But Carlos had always known her as a 250 year old iron willed matron who had made an impression when he was 13, when she’d recruited him to the Wardens. The Colonel had nothing on her. “But my boy here is correct,” Carlos continued smoothly, turning to walk backwards so he was facing both Roy and York for the space of several yards before he whirled back around. Too paranoid. “I am in fact an expert with women, I have them eating out of my hands with just a few words.” “Yeah, okay Casanova, calm the hell down,” Roy replied flatly. “I don’t need help with women.” “Probably not,” Carlos agreed, “Girls dig that whole dark mysterious thing you got going on with the broody eyes and shit, but it ain’t enough for this one, obviously.” The Colonel whipped his head around and eyed York, “Who the hell else are you telling my business?!” he demanded. Carlos snickered. *** “Ha!” York pointed a finger towards Carlos as he announced the name of the movie. “You do watch movies like Bridget Jones’ Diary, or else you wouldn’t know what it was from, you sap.” They didn’t have very many movies in York’s time. A hundred had survived Earth and Reach’s destruction, both. It was all they had. York had seen them all. He’d read every book that had survived. “Whoa-- hey!” York’s hands both flew into the air in surrender. “I told him you were having trouble with a girl you liked, sir, he said he could help. We just wanna help, I know how you.. Er.. feel about her.” He wasn’t going to announce that in public, thanks. “I figured you could use the help-- you’ve been having trouble and I don’t want you to give up. You deserve her, sir.” And that was how York saw it, so that was how it was. Roy deserved to have something good, he deserved to have Riza. He just wanted to help the Colonel get her. “Let us help?” Women like not to be referred to as objects for the winning, York. Delta supplied helpfully from the chip in the soldier’s head. “Yeah, thanks-- come on, sir. What could it hurt? Carlos is great with girls, and I’ve known other female soldiers.. We can help.” And it was so clear the blonde man wanted to. Hell, he had very nearly broken out the puppy eyes. *** “I know what it’s from, I ain’t ever said I watched it. Do I look like someone that’s concerned with some middle class white lady’s love life?” He gestured at himself; black fatigues, combat boots, Warden sword (he refused to leave it in the barracks where it would get stolen). But, of course York was well after a time and place than the highly racialized 2000s, so Carlos’ comments on the difference between his experience and that of fictional people (or the kind of people that watched Bridget Jones’ Diary) would be entirely lost. Carlos grew up in the midst of it, it was a touchy subject best avoided with him. He shook his head. The Colonel looked between York and Ramirez and wanted to strangle them both. He doubted anyone would stop for more than a few seconds if he doused them both in fire. Good riddance, probably. But the broody soldier scowled instead and rolled his eyes. He’d done fine with Riza. Well. They’d gone beyond what Roy expected to happen that night, which was something. But like hell was he telling either of these idiots that. Ever. “She won’t agree to a second date,” he said which was about as close to admitting that he was listening as he’d get. He didn’t need help. He just… needed to be less Roy Mustang. *** “What’s the woman’s skin color got anything to do with it?” York prompted, looking a little bit appalled that Carlos would even bring it up. But a few seconds passed and the blonde man had the look of a light bulb going off. “Oh.” He said, then inclined his head a little and looked forward again. “Fair enough. Alright.” Delta had made fine progress in explaining in the span of six words. He was so very good at that. Though, as they walked, the blonde man listened to the Colonel’s words and glanced over at Carlos. See? That was what he’d said. She wouldn’t agree to a second date. But before he could say anything, a mechanical voice chimed in, Delta flickering to life in a shower of green light over the Freelancer’s left shoulder. “When York spoke with Lieutenant Hawkeye this morning, her hormone levels indicated she was ovulating and ready to accept a mate. Perhaps offering her a date during these times--” But Delta was cut off by the blonde, who cringed and shot a look over at him. “Hey, D, that’s a lot of information, man. None of us want to know that about her and I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want us to know. Let’s just.. Keep the Lieutenant’s ovulation on the downlow, okay?” The soldier looked slightly scandalized. “My apologies, York, I had thought this discussion was based around the Colonel’s intentions to mate with his Lieutenant.” “Not helpful, D.” Carlos, that was Delta. *** Carlos stared at York for a second when he asked his dumbass question, but he didn’t have time to respond before the blonde man looked suddenly enlightened. Carlos’ expression shifted from annoyed to surprised in the space of a heartbeat. “Can you do that less? That’s just creepy.” He’d been told about the delicate technology that existed inside York’s brain, Harry had told him York talked to it a lot and that it was fine - he probably wasn’t as crazy as he looked when he was doing it. Carlos had been prepped for it but still. Weird. Then the weird got worse when the green AI appeared. Carlos backed up a couple steps on reflex and stared. “Whoa, that’s fucking cool-” Until Delta started talking. Mustang looked at him (having been introduced some time ago) and wanted to rip him out of York’s freaking head. Her ovulation? What the hell? His intentions to mate? Oh, damn. If it had been concerning anyone other than Riza Hawkeye, Roy would have panicked a lot more than he did just then. But it was Lieutenant Hawkeye and she’d know what stage her body was in and when her cycle would come. They’d had sex and Roy had used no form of protection, but she wasn’t so reckless. She’d have taken care of it. He could trust that. Right? Roy could stay calm despite the sudden burst of anxiety in his chest. Neither of them would ever let something so stupid happen. Carlos looked embarrassed for everyone, just as scandalized as the blonde was. Who said shit like that? “I mean-” Carlos started, “that’s news.” What even was anyone supposed to say to that? “He like that all the time?” He asked, brows raising. “That’s awkward as fuck, man.” Thanks, Carlos, for pointing out the obvious. *** “Hello, Mr. Ramirez.” Delta greeted a second later. “I was only attempting to be helpful.” “You’re helpful, you just give a little too much information on the wrong topics now and then, buddy.” Taking a glance over at the little green hologram to his left, York shot him a wink and followed it up with a smile. “Just take it down a few notches.” “I will attempt to be less informative next time.” The AI supplied in a helpful tone. “Thanks, D.” His eyes slipped over the Colonel, then briefly to Carlos. “How’s your hand doing?” He wanted to ask before he forgot. Of course, once he got a satisfactory answer, it was back to the topic at hand: Riza Hawkeye. He hadn’t said as much, but the Colonel was clearly up for some discussion, because he hadn’t dismissed it all in one fell swoop. “We’ll have to get her to go on a date with you, without her knowing it’s a date with you, sir.” Obviously. “We can set it all up, we just need to figure out a way to get her there and out of uniform.” Because York knew how important it was for the brain to recognize it wasn’t in a ‘working’ state, and being out of uniform would certainly help with that. *** “Hey there,” Carlos replied blithely, raising his hand in a two fingered salute to Delta. He was talking to a hologram---hologram? Was that the word? Fucking English, man. His life couldn’t possibly get weirder than it was right now. When would he go back to reality? “Hey don’t worry, you’re plenty helpful, just a little weird,” Carlos supplied. “Not any weirder than the dude you’re hanging out in though,” he looked at York. “I mean, no offense or anything.” He raised both hands in surrender. “I’m good.” Which was true. The surface of his injury would scar, but the tissue underneath (and if there had been any bone damage) would heal completely. If an x-ray machine could withstand a wizard’s presence it would reveal that all the horrible injuries a wizard had taken would disappear over time. There was a reason they lived to 400, it was because their bodies healed better than everyone. Evidence? Carlos had said he was mostly paralyzed a month ago and here he was, walking. The Colonel for his part managed to subdue his anxiety (not really) into a functional state and kept someplace he could ignore (not really). He didn’t hear what York said for a moment but became aware both men were looking at him. His lips parted slightly and he glanced from one to the other before he said, “Yeah, alright.” What was he agreeing to? Carlos quirked a brow and grinned at York, “I thought we weren’t talking about her outside of her uniform?” Since Delta was making sex suggestions, Carlos could too. He barely managed to dance out of Mustang’s reach when the Colonel thrust out a hand to smack him on the back of his head, laughing as he went. “What? Okay, I’m sorry. I apologize. I’m focused here--a date, with you. What kind of romantic settings does she like?” Mustang gritted his teeth. He also didn’t have an answer to that. What did he know about Riza Hawkeye that didn’t involve work and their complicated history? “--shooting stars,” Roy said with a sudden inspiration. They’d looked at them as kids. Did she still like watching? He’d never asked. “Well, I mean, I guess as far as scenery goes stars are all you’re getting but that’s a start,” Carlos said helpfully. Man, the Colonel was fucking hopeless. “So York and I will find a place, he’s gonna ask her on a date---a night out--” Carlos corrected, “And I don’t know, should we just meet up together and then you and I ditch them?” He asked York. *** “None taken, man.” York idly waved a hand and rubbed at the back of his head before he slipped both hands into his back pockets and continued walking, glancing aside at the Colonel as he announced she liked shooting stars. Well, that was good. Who didn’t? It was a nice start, at least. They could find a place that would be romantic and secluded and-- “What?” He asked, eyebrows shooting up as he looked over at Carlos. “Me? No, I don’t think that’s a good idea--” His brow furrowed up and he looked to the Colonel, then back at Carlos. “I can’t ask her on a date.” “York would be an unwise choice, he has no experience with askin--” Delta was just trying to be helpful. “D, hey man, I got this. You don’t need to be spouting off my life story. I’m just not the right man for the job is all. What about.. The Latin sword-wielding hotshot here? I mean, he looks at women and their panties fall off. She’d say yes to him.” A hand pulled from his pocket to gesture at the shortest among them. “Besides, you look more like the Colonel, and we know she likes the look of him, or else she’d have traded him in for a higher ranking official by now.” Anyone who spent ten minutes with Riza Hawkeye knew she could climb the ranks if she chose to. If she had the ambition to hop over people like the future Fuhrer did. But she didn’t. She chose to stay right where she was. Happily. *** Carlos and Roy both looked at Delta when he started talking. Both of them shook their heads after a few seconds. Of the two of them, only one had any reason to think this whole conversation was pathetic as only one of them had actually successfully asked a woman on a date. Nobody knew that. “Be that as it may, we ain’t talking about my magic with women. It’s gotta be you,” Carlos said. “She doesn’t know me, it’d be rude if I was like ‘hey come out with me tonight’ when we straight up skipped the coffee and shit. She’d think I was trying to get her pants off in an instant and shoot me down. Logic, man. Besides you got that whole puppy eyed---eye---” He corrected, pausing to gesture at York’s face, “thing going on. It’s real easy, dude. Just tell her you wanna talk about shit or whatever. Chicks like talking.” Colonel Mustang snorted and then it devolved into real laughter for the first time. “Have either of you idiots ever asked a woman out?” He looked at them. “Do you know how any of this works? Oh, shit.” His shoulders shook with his laughter. Manic highs, terrible, terrible lows - the Colonel was unpredictable. He was amused enough not to be offended by the notion Riza would ever leave him. She was where she belonged. *** That had York giving him a flat look. Eye. Puppy eye. A hand lifted to point at his own face. “I look like I had a grenade thrown at my face. You know why? Because I had a grenade thrown at my face,” His hand dropped away. “Girls like Lieutenant Hawkeye want guys who look like that,” he pointed at the Colonel, “and you. Dark, mysterious, a little bad-boy vibe going on, maybe a little crazy thing-- I mean, I look like Captain Freaking America. I’m not dark and mysterious. You ask her. And if she’s unsure, let her play with your sword, that turns women on.” Right? But then the Colonel was laughing and asking that question and York flustered a little and pointed again at Carlos. “He’s the expert, sir. He could woo her and go home with her panties in his pocket if he wanted-- which he doesn’t-- but if I go ask her, she’s going to pull out her gun and shoot me in the face, sir.” No she wouldn’t, and he knew it, but it was a good excuse. “Is someone planning a murder?” Could this get any worse for the young officer? No. Probably not. York turned a bit to look at the angel who had appeared a step behind him. “Hey, Cas. No, no murder-- look, if you were going to go on a date with one of us, who would you pick? Turn around, Carlos.” He made a gesture to the Latin man. “Pretend you’re a pretty girl.” “I don’t detect that Castiel’s hormones are ready for mati--” “Thanks, D, we’re good without that information. What do you say, Cas?” York gestured between himself and Carlos. “This is awkward.” The man in the trenchcoat said after a few seconds. “However, if I were an ovulating woman--” he began, but Delta spoke up again. “We are not supposed to discuss Lieutenant Hawkeye’s current ovulation schedule.” His lights flickered some. “--I suppose I would choose your friend Carlos.” The angel finished. “Ha-- see? Why, Cas?” Prompted by the blonde. “It is referenced in many modern films and songs that Latin men are virile and have an intense sexual prowess. Also, their genes tend to be more robust and if the woman is of European descent, having a Spanish influence in her offspring would make them less likely to have genetic defects.” So matter-of-fact. York, deciding that had been plenty enough to declare Carlos the winner, looked at the Latin man smugly. *** “Dude, chill, girls dig scars.” Carlos said offhandedly. No one cared he was missing an eye, the other one didn’t move around which made it clear which one you were supposed to look at when talking to him. “Hey, I’d let her play with my sword any day-” “Ramirez,” The Colonel warned. “What? I’m just saying, he’s right--I could have her panties off in a beat and she wouldn’t even know what hit her after. But I don’t cause I ain’t into blondes and I don’t believe in stealing another man’s chick, thank you.” He put a hand over his chest. He was about to continue when the sudden appearance of another man startled him. Carlos leapt backward, threw out his hand in a sign of warding, with the third finger on his left hand bent and touching his thumb. He had a single word on the tip of his tongue and the rush of power had been gathered in like a storm. Not as bad as when Harry did it, the lights around Carlos didn’t even flicker. And that, friends, was the difference between a tightly controlled soldier and the hot mess that was Dresden. Beside Carlos, Colonel Mustang had almost the same reaction, except he didn’t jump back insomuch as he took a measured step away for distance and was halfway to his pocket for that white glove while York kept on like nothing was wrong. They continued talking as if nothing was happening. In Carlos’ experience, anything that showed up out of the blue like that was dangerous as all hell and decidedly inhuman. No humans could appear and disappear like that. His heart still racing, the Warden lowered his hand toward the hilt of his sword and kept it there. York recognized the man. That was the only reason both soldiers didn’t loose their power on the newcomer. “What the fuck?” Carlos said after a moment. He and Mustang shared a look. The Colonel recovered faster. He eased though not all the tension left his shoulders. He recognized the reference ‘Cas.’ This was the supposed angel--Mustang didn’t believe in God or higher powers, so he remained skeptical of what exactly Cas claimed to be. “This,” Mustang said in his serious baritone, “is getting ridiculous.” He should have stayed home. *** “No, this is good-- Carlos can ask her out, she’ll say yes. Cas knows what he’s talking about.” Right? York flashed a smile at the two men, then paused and looked back at the angel, who looked confused. “Oh, right, sorry-- Carlos, this is Cas. And that’s Colonel Mustang.” He nodded to the taller of the two dark men. “It’s very nice to meet both of you. How is your injury?” The angel inquired after the damage done to the wizard, those blue eyes raking over the shorter man’s form and lingering in a few places before that gaze locked instantly onto those deep browns. There would be no music coming from this man’s soul, should the wizard let it get that far. And, in all honesty, it was difficult to tear your eyes away from the intense gaze of the creature in that trench coat. The body was most certainly human. The monster inside? Not so much. *** For the first time in probably ever, Carlos was stunned into silence. The weight of Castiel’s gaze froze him in place as much as it did Harry the first time he’d encountered it. Carlos wasn’t dumb enough to open himself to the presence of the other, but he sure as shit felt it in that thousand yard stare. He felt it in his soul. Those blue eyes locked onto Carlos’ own and the wizard couldn’t pull them away fast enough, which was just fucking confusing because nothing happened. The gaze only took a few seconds to initiate usually. The answer became obvious shortly after. Cas had no soul. No soul, no soulgaze. Give the little guy some credit, he squared himself and said flatly, “I am not food.” He didn’t know what the fuck that was, but it wasn’t eating him today. *** York blinked a few times at the strange display between the two of them. The way Cas had looked at Carlos, and the way Carlos seemed to draw himself up and try to look as big as possible, to look more threatening. I am not food. The words had Castiel’s eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity, his head tilting a little as he watched the man in front of him. And for all his curious looks, his body never moved. Not really. His feet didn’t shift, his shoulders didn’t tilt, his fingers didn’t twitch. He didn’t blink. And still, he looked like he didn’t understand, like he was trying to puzzle it all out. Apparently, he didn’t get it, because his gaze slowly turned onto the Colonel and he nodded once in greeting. “We have spoken.” Once, over the network, but Castiel remembered everything-- one of the perks (or downfalls) of being an angel. “Hello, Colonel.” “So what do you think, Carlos?” York prompted, still looking oddly at his new friend. What was going on? Why did he look like he was going to jump out of his skin? “You gonna ask her out?” *** “He ain’t human,” Carlos said, his surprised expression having been schooled into that lazily confident look. The trick to not being seen as food was to stop acting like it. Every wizard who’d encountered the uglier parts of the supernatural community knew that. So Carlos’ entire body language changed from overly hostile to calm confidence. He folded his arms across his chest. Mustang watched the display with curiosity, his eyes moving from Carlos to Cas then darting to York who was still somehow stuck on the topic of dates and asking Riza out while these two stared each other down. He quirked a brow, “Shut up, York,” then he inclined his head toward the newcomer and said, “It’s a pleasure.” Niceties always remained in place, he was nothing if not a perfect example of what a State Alchemist should be in face of new people (nevermind what his nightlife looked like for real). *** The soldier looked at the Colonel curiously, then back at the wizard and angel. Oh. Oh. Hey. There was some tension there. Why? Before he could have a chance to ask, Castiel was nodding once at Mustang in acknowledgement, then giving his full attention back to the young man who just moments ago had looked ready to pounce on him. “There’s no reason to be scared of me.” Cas told him plainly. “I realize that this bravado must be very taxing on your nervous system. There’s no need for such things, I assure you.” So said the creature with no soul and the spiritual equivalent of four semi-trucks dropping down onto the poor wizard each time he set that blue gaze onto him. He was taking it far better than Harry had, however. Harry had been too scared to do much other than sit beside the angel and try not to look at him. He found it admirable that Carlos continued to try and stare him down. *** “I ain’t scared of you,” That was a lie, he was plenty scared, just also reassured of where he was going when he died, so if this thing wanted to kill him, so what? It wasn’t as simple as all that, of course, but that was the gist of what he was suggesting. Do your worst. If he were less of a peacocking idiot just then he might well have realized what exactly Castiel was. But unlike Harry, Carlos had never encountered Heaven’s soldiers. His faith was based entirely on that, faith, no concrete evidence provided. Castiel could be anything else. Creatures without souls were abundant and none of them Carlos had ever encountered had been any good. The young wizard didn’t move. “Well, this is all fascinating to watch, but if we’re done here-” Mustang said, breaking the silence that had settled after Cas had spoken. “York, Ramirez-” His dark eyes turned to the angel. “Cas-” He was ready to leave. *** York couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out what was going on there. He might have spoken up to try and figure it out, but the Colonel was speaking and his attention diverted. “I’ll come with you, sir.” He had to get ready for work anyway. Turning, he took a few steps to meet up with the shorter man, then paused to look back. “Hey, if you two are gonna have sex, use protection, okay?” Because that intense staring? Well. Well. “I’ll see you at Harry’s place, Cas?” He asked a second later. “Yes. I’ll be there tomorrow.” The angel answered without ever turning his eyes away from Carlos. He wasn’t sure why they were having this staring contest, but they were. And he wasn’t particularly interested in losing. *** Mustang nodded and didn’t pause his march away, York was tall enough to outpace him without trying, if he wanted to linger behind and chat with the others he’d still catch up. “Fuck you,” Carlos told York without looking at him. Way to leave a guy behind with the monsters, guys. Where was the loyalty? Damn. Carlos shook his head to himself and eyed the other. It was getting uncomfortable staring at him, with that thousand yard stare and the weight of a freaking mountain pressing into him. If he broke first he’d be dead meat. Carlos quirked an eyebrow, “So we just gonna stand here all day?” Fucking assholes for leaving him here. He’d kill them. If he didn’t die here. *** Well, York certainly hadn’t been scared of the monster facing down the wizard. That either made the soldier very brave, or very stupid.. Or very strong. Probably very stupid. Or just trusting? Who knew. But he seemed to be very personable with the leviathan standing opposite the shorter man. “I don’t..” Castiel began, his words trailing off for a second before he continued, “Understand why we’re doing this.” Why were they staring at one another like this? His chin dipped down and the angel kept his eyes locked on those brown across from him for another few seconds before he finally looked away, glancing in the direction the trio had been walking in. “Did I interrupt something?” He asked, before looking back to the young man, hoping that might have broken the obvious tension. What was the problem here? *** “Because I’m too pretty to die,” Carlos said lightly, “you aren’t human.” And then Castiel looked away. His body language hadn’t changed at all (but then he didn’t have much by body language to begin with) but those blue eyes moving had done the work to ease the tension a little. Carlos’ point had been to indicate he wasn’t something that would crumble. He wouldn’t be seen as weak or prey. If the creature across from him accepted that then done was done. Otherwise? Well, he was carrying a sword of faith at his side. His stance shifted some when Castiel’s eyes moved and Carlos unfolded his arms. “Nah, we’re just trying to get Mustang laid.” *** The only problem with bringing that gaze back to Carlos was that the weight of it hadn’t changed. The intensity hadn’t lessened. It was something he would just have to get used to-- it was something Dresden was still struggling to get used to.. Though, admittedly, Cas did stare harder at him some days. On purpose. Sometimes Harry needed to be reminded God’s eyes were on him. This man didn’t need that, but the archangel couldn’t help what he was: a crushing spiritual force. “I’m quite certain he has managed that for himself.” How did he know? Don’t ask questions you don’t really want the answer to. “Are you returning to the barracks?” He knew where Carlos slept? Of course he did. *** Dios, Carlos thought, the thing standing in front of him knew where he lived. Slept, even. That was never not creepy. It wasn’t a good sign when the big badasses in the world knew such intimate details. The young wizard’s heart skipped a beat and the rhythm picked up in his chest even if outwardly he remained calm. His blood ran cold, but he was a trained Warden of the White Council of Wizards, he wouldn’t panic damnit. “ Madre de Dios,” Mother of God, “What the hell are you?” Symbols of faith were important. Harry Dresden wore a pentacle necklace inherited from his mother and it kept him safe in times of need. Carlos? His was more traditional in sense, as far as humans typically considered faith to be about religion, it was a rosary. He reached for it. *** “No, I’m Castiel.” The angel told him plainly, watching as the man reached for his rosary. For just a second, the angel stared at him in disbelief. But it wasn’t the sort of disbelief that came with being thwarted, or outsmarted, or stunned, or scared.. It was the sort of disbelief a character on The Office experienced, before staring directly into the camera as if to ask ‘Really?’ “Your rosary is really very lovely, Carlos. But perhaps we should do this elsewhere. I’m not a demon.” He had an inkling of what the man’s reaction might be, should he reveal himself to him. And if the wizard hadn’t wanted to look like food, having that sort of reaction in the middle of a street, with everyone watching, wasn’t the way to go about it. “We can return to the barracks. Your building is the first we’ll come across.” While Cas’ was clear to the opposite end. He would walk past it. He might as well walk the child home. *** Castiel. Not a demon. The thing standing across from Carlos looked confused more than anything, vaguely exasperated by what was going on here but otherwise entirely nonplussed. Carlos wasn’t even the vaguest of threats to it to make this whole situation anything but a joke. The wizard swallowed and forced himself to breathe. He was starting to understand but the parts of him that bowed to reason and cool logic kept denying it. But how could he keep denying it when that heavy gaze kept trying to stop his heart every time it fell on him? Like those eyes were seeing straight into his soul. Then Castiel was talking again and Carlos couldn’t look away. The barracks? Back to the barracks. Now? With him? “Okay,” he heard himself say. At least he stopped trying to bluff his way out of this. The thing named Castiel had seen right through it, unconcerned, unimpressed. Carlos was simply human and those eyes with the heaviness behind him had forced the young wizard into accepting it, simply by looking. “... are you an angel?” he asked. *** Carlos started to breathe and Castiel could see the tension in his shoulders begin to relax just slightly. That was when a bare smile came across the angel’s face and he tipped his head and moved a hand out in a very deliberate (and stiff) gesture to suggest that they walk in the direction of the barracks. The human beside him agreed in a breathy okay and his escort turned slightly-- until the Latin man asked that question. It gave the heavy, otherworld creature pause and he lifted his eyebrows in a soft ‘What do you think?’ way. “Come, I’m sure you’ll have questions, many of which I’m prepared to answer. Somewhere more private.” He could already feel the eyes on them, people wondering what was going on there in the middle of the street. With a Nephilim around, it wasn’t exactly Castiel’s mission today to stand out unprotected and -discuss religious matters with a good Catholic boy. “I myself am in the 500 block of the barracks.” Perhaps giving this young man his own knowledge (knowledge, after all, was power) he might feel a little more stable. “We can go there,.” *** Dios. Carlos felt light headed, like he was going to pass out, all of the air left his lungs anyway so for a second he kind of just stood there and stared. Lucky he didn’t just fall over and have a seizure or something. An angel! Well the man didn’t technically say it, which if Carlos wanted to remain skeptical would be the point he’d hold onto. But the parts of him that wanted to believe were far stronger than even his cynicism. An angel! Holy shit. I’m sure you’ll have questions Carlos moved, falling in beside the man, his heart beating a new cadence that made his cheeks flush. He’d tried to have a pissing contest with an angel, what an idiot. Oh, Jesus Christ. “... uh, perdóname,” He said, wincing, “I’m an idiot sometimes. That-” he gestured a hand back behind them, where they’d been standing just seconds before, “That was stupid.” And he felt like an idiot. *** “Nonsense.” Was the angel’s immediate response. “You were very brave. Your reactions were admirable. You saw me as a threat and you held your ground. That’s more than I can say for your counterpart.” Harry Dresden. Dear Lord, Carlos was about to have one Hell of a time with all of this. How was the wizard going to take the news that this angel-- this archangel was the Hot Mess Harry Dresden’s secretary? Really. Things here were certainly.. Odd. They took some getting used to for everyone. “Your soul is good,” the blue-eyed creature carried on as they walked towards the barracks, his steps even and sure, knowing Carlos would fall in beside him without trouble. He likely could have navigated them off a ledge and the young man would have followed without realizing. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes away. Castiel found that oddly comforting. A man of faith. In a place like this. It warmed him to his very core. This was a good man. *** His counterpart? Oh, “Harry? Yeah, he’s good people, just a little rough around the edges. But he does good,” and Carlos trusted Harry. Harry had become an inspiration to the younger Wardens for his determination not to bend over backwards and follow Council law as it was dictated to him. He made it easier for the younger Wardens to stand up for what they believed in, instead of following blindly. But forget Harry, forget everything Carlos had just said or thought or believed because a holy angel of God Himself just said his soul was good. How did you respond to that? How did you process that? The Bible had no recommendations on how to talk to angels or what was the appropriate response when they talked to you. “... thank you,” he said after a minute, because when someone said something nice you were supposed to accept it. Right? When did his cool charisma turn into blithering idiocy? Carlos touched a hand to his chest, over his heart and forced himself to breathe. This was okay. All of this was fine. There wasn’t anything unusual happening. “Why are you living in the barracks?” He asked, which honestly, of all the questions in the world he could possibly have asked was the least exciting. *** Well. That was the most bland question he’d ever received as a first-contact question from a human. The first, always, was ‘You’re an angel?’ or some variation thereof. The second, most often, was ‘Why me?’. But this man? He was asking about the barracks? And where he was sleeping? Not that he slept. “My human charge was living there, before he left. His family and friend have remained behind. I am watching over them.” It was the most simple explanation. The one that would make the most sense. “He liked me to have a bed, though I don’t sleep. I think he found that it made me seem more human.” Which was something Dean was always trying to do, justify him as a human. Maybe it was just easier for his brain. He was always trying to teach him new human things.. The thoughts had Castiel dropping his eyes for a second before they came back up, looking forward as they made their way past the first building. “That was an unusual question.” Somehow, he expected it wouldn’t be the most unusual to come from this man. *** “That makes sense,” he agreed. Of course an angel would look over the people he was concerned with, of course he’d want to be near them. “It just… I mean, I guess I just thought you’d be hovering in the background or something, invisible. Why are you visible? I always knew angels were there but never directly involved.” Carlos paused though because something about Castiel’s statements troubled him, “Sorry if this is a dick question but, why would anyone want to make an angel seem more human? We kind of suck sometimes.” And angels were separate. They were other, but on a plane higher than mankind. “Seems kind of disrespectful.” Said the man using casual language with Heaven’s hands. *** Carlos thought he would be invisible and hovering in the background. He wasn’t wrong. “I often am. I was there when you hid in the alley, I am the one who told Harry Dresden where you were. I was there when York bound your hand, to ensure no harm came to you.” To either of them. Blue eyes slid to the man at his side, though his head barely turned. “I am visible because I’ve found it’s difficult to converse with humans while I’m not.” That was a stupid question, human, and the angel was more than happy to let him know it. The look on his face said as much. One of those ‘Oh, are you special?’ sort of looks. It had little to do with Carlos, of course, and much to do with the Nephilim that was on his mind. However, at the next question, his eyes turned forward again. “The human race is not perfect, you have many, many.. Many flaws. But your good qualities outweigh your bad ones by quite a large margin. And it seems to make humans feel more.. Comfortable, if they can relate to you on a basic human level. You see, I come to you in this form.” His arms opened a little as they walked. “My true form is approximately the size of your Chrysler building, and I have three faces and six wings. The actual sight of it would burn your eyes from their sockets at merely a glimpse, and reduce you entirely to ash should you dare to look for more than a second.” A truly terrifying prospect, really. “Even the thought of it can be overwhelming. So we take the form of humans and attempt to fit in among you. Some are better at it than others.” Regrettably so. Castiel had never been good at playing pretend, just ask his brothers. *** That might have scared other people, to learn that a being was hovering over you at times just watching, but for Carlos it gave him a sense of calm comfort. It wasn’t every day you learned an angel had taken the time to make sure you were gonna be alright when you weren’t so sure yourself. It was nice to know that sometimes God had your back. He smiled a genuine smile and felt the warmth of faith flood him. Faith was a magic of its own. As for the question? If the angel thought it was stupid, well, Carlos was only human after all. “Yeah, I mean, that part I understand. I appreciate not being blind or burned to ash, really I do-” There, his casual swagger was coming back now that his heart had settled. “Oh, maybe I asked the wrong question…” He paused again. “I mean, communicating is one thing and not burning our eyes out is good and all. Humanity appreciates that, trust me. But does it change your nature if someone tries to make you more human? I just don’t understand why anyone would want to. Are you supposed to relate to us?” He didn’t know, that’s why he was asking. Maybe angels were just curious. *** Outside of the last building of the barracks, Castiel came to a slow halt and stood there for a moment before turning to face the man at his side. That was a question he’d never been asked before. It was a very good one and he found himself without a prepared answer. “My Father did not bestow Free Will upon us, as He did you.” He paused for a moment there, to let that sink in. “And then He gave us an order, to love humans more than we loved Him. An order that directly conflicted with our programming to love Him above all things. Angels love humans, we can’t help it, it’s in our nature, but when He instructed us to love you more, it was an order He had fundamentally constructed us not to be able to follow.” It was like cutting off your child’s legs, then telling them to run a marathon. It was impossible and cruel. To give something an order, when it was compelled to follow, when it could do nothing but follow, when it hurt to disobey.. While knowing full well they couldn’t. It was akin to torture and the unsure, slightly hurt look that overtook Castiel’s face said as much. “Many angels do their best to follow, many think of it as a test and refuse to follow. And I..” He trailed off there, his eyes turning to the side as he considered his own behavior, his own past choices, and the ones that still lie ahead of him. After a moment, those blue eyes came back to brown. “Humans find comfort in things like themselves. It’s the reason people of certain ethnic descent often stay with their own kind.” Latins with Latins, whites with whites. “It is comfortable. I seek to make those humans around me comfortable, and if it requires changing my nature to do so, then I am prepared for that.” Hopefully, that had answered his question. Castiel was looking on expectantly. *** That quieted Carlos, he stood in front of Castiel and wondered, "Why would God do that? You don't have to answer that one, I mean, I'm only human I don't assume I have any chance in hell of understanding why He'd do anything. But I just.. seems unfair, I guess. To hurt the things you want to love you." What a dick move, really. "I mean, that sucks, our existence pains you guys." And that wasn't what Carlos expected to learn today, from the strange man before him. An angel of God telling him that mankind, the people he loved, also caused him his greatest pains. Carlos lowered his eyes after a moment, properly humbled. "I guess that's the real meaning of self sacrifice. You all torture yourselves for love of us, because of us, for us. What'd we ever do to deserve that?" He looked back up and smiled his charismatic smile. "You don't have to answer that, either. I've seen good and bad parts of humanity, I've done some questionable things like the next man. But I think we're mostly good, for good reasons." *** As the human spoke, Castiel just watched him. He never made an attempt to answer those questions. How could he? Would he even want to, if he knew what to say? The Seraph had never had someone speak to him so plainly before, not really. Every once in awhile, he thought Dean got it, but it always turned out that he fell just short of the mark. These things were impossible for humans to understand, he’d told himself. But here was this man, this wizard, standing before him with such a clear understanding and such a beautiful soul. The words coming from him were soothing, it was difficult to describe why, but it didn’t matter why. The angel’s face softened and a bare smile appeared, brow furrowing up just a little. “You are good.” He agreed in a quiet, but gruff tone. “And I do love you.” Say nothing of the other angels, it was Castiel who had a true love for the humans, no other had ever loved them so much, so dearly, or so completely as the broken archangel stood before the Warden. “Come inside.” With that, he was turning to head into the barracks. Perhaps he could convince Carlos to take up a bed near his own. *** You are good. And I do love you. Carlos smiled, “From your lips to God’s ears,” he replied candidly and made the sign of the cross, quietly saying the words to himself before he stepped after the angel and entered into the barracks they each were calling home. An angel humbled himself enough to sit idle beside his loved ones, in the open. What could be better than that? Heartened, and comforted, Carlos followed faithfully behind. |