Static Radios and Broken Lights

1: An Angel and a Righteous Man

The metal paneling on the roof shuddered, slamming and banging against the wooden barn studs. The doors burst open, breaking the two by fours keeping them locked shut.

The hanging lights above us started to pop, dropping a shower of sparks onto a man an inch or two shorter than me, a man with messy black hair and piercing blue eyes. He wore a black suit with a lose tie under a beige trench coat. His face was frozen in a serious glare as he walked towards me, sparks still falling on him. He didn't even flinch, only blinked.

Bobby and I raised our shotguns and fired twice each. The man didn't finch, it seemed as if he didn't even feel it. He kept walking towards us, and Bobby and I looked at each other. We moved away from one another to give the man more targets to focus on. Bobby grabbed a crow bar, and I clenched the demon knife behind my back.

The man paused in front of me, completely ignoring Bobby behind him. "Who are you?" I asked.

"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition," he said simply, as if it explained everything.

"Yeah, thanks for that," I said harshly. I thrust the knife into his chest.

He simply glanced at it and pulled it out. It clanged on the ground, and Bobby swung his crow bar. With his eyes on me, the man blocked the blow with one hand, then turned to face Bobby. He placed two fingers on his forehead, and Bobby seemed to pass out, collapsing slowly to the floor.

The man turned back to me. "We need to talk, Dean. Alone." He turned away, and started to read a book on the table behind him. I kneeled at Bobby's side. "Your friend's alive."

"Who are you?" I repeated the question.

"Castiel," he replied.

"Yeah, I figured that much. I mean, what are you?" I glared at him, and spoke harshly. I demanded a real answer. When we had tried to look for him earlier, he burned out Pamela's eyes. If I couldn't kill him, I at least wanted to know what he was. Then I could kill him later.

He looked up at me, the serious look still on his face. "I'm an angel of the lord."

I took a second, then stood. "Get the hell out of here. There's no such thing."

He took a few steps towards me. "This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith." Lighting, coming from nowhere, flashed and he revealed his wings, large black things that seemed like shadows.

"Some angel you are. You burned out that poor woman's eyes," I scolded firmly. Just because I didn't know Pamela that well didn't mean I couldn't guilt trip this son of a bitch.

He sighed. "I warned her not to spy on my true form. It can be ... overwhelming to humans, so can my real voice. You already knew that."

I nodded slightly. "You mean the gas station and the motel. That was you talking?" He nodded politely in response. "Buddy, next time lower the volume."

"That was my mistake," He said plainly. "Certain people -- special people -- can perceive my true visage. I thought you would be one of them. I was wrong."

I tried not to take it personally and looked at his body. Angry words slipped out. "And what visage are you in now, huh? What, holy tax accountant?"

He looked down at himself, touching his jacket. "This -- this is ... a vessel."

"You're possessing some poor bastard?!" I yelled it. I wanted to punch him.

"He's a devout man, he actually prayed for this," he nodded, trying and failing to calm me.

I took a breath and shook my head. "Look pal, I'm not buying what you're selling, so who are you really?" My words were harsh again.

He tilted his head slightly and furrowed his brows. "I told you." He seemed upset that I thought he might be lying. It was ... weird, to say the least.

I smacked my lips together. "Right," I said doubtfully. "And why would an angel rescue me from Hell?"

He took another step forward, a slight confusion still on his face. "Good things do happen, Dean."

I steeled myself. "Not in my experience."

He tilted his head again, and narrowed his eyes. "What's the matter?" He shook his head imperceptibly before relaxing his eyes, widening them a bit. "You don't think you deserve to be saved."

I released an angry breath and dodged that rabbit hole of a question. "Why'd you do it?"

He pressed his lips into a line, bowing his head slightly. "Because God commanded it." We stared at each other. "Because we have work for you."

I tilted my head slightly, wondering what exactly he meant.

That was how I met Castiel, Cas for short. That was a few years ago. Since then, he rebelled from Heaven and Fell for my brother Sam and I. He died a few times, came back, became God, and released these nasty monsters called Leviathans. He lost his memory for awhile, then got it back and went crazy. We went to Purgatory together, and made it out after almost a year. A lot of other shit happened, too, but I don't have the time to go into detail.

There is one thing that sticks in my mind.

When we were in Purgatory, I went to extreme lengths to find Cas. I killed many, many monsters to find him. Only for him to tell me he stayed away, ignored my prayers every night for a year, to protect me. I felt so heartbroken when he pushed me into the portal that I convinced myself I had left him there, and that it was my fault.

And when he returned, when he just showed up out of nowhere, I felt so happy. When he finally looked like himself again, when he was cleaned up, I felt something for the first time. I didn't really know what that feeling was, but all I knew was this: I really wanted to be close to him.

There's the first chapter! I may have taken basically all of it from episode 401, "Lazarus Rising" and added some descriptors of my own. This is my first Destiel fanfic, and I thought i'd start with something everyone knows, how Dean and Cas met. I hope you liked this, and keep reading. vote and comment below your thoughts.

Word count: 1019