entrancelogs | and if bridges gotta fall then you'll fall, too

Entry tags:

and if bridges gotta fall then you'll fall, too

Who: Double log ahoy! Adam Milligan (

freewill), followed by Jo Harvelle (

lightgunhustler) on another day.
Where: In the library with Castiel, then the ballroom with Jo.
When: Backdated for angel times on the 5th, big sis times on the 6th.
Rating: G for now!
Summary: Apparently Santa decide to give Adam a social circle for Christmas.
The Story:

Castiel

For Adam Milligan, a new year was a stupid thing to celebrate. He'd survived too many of them; they were just meaningless numbers now, brittle, forgettable. The idea of New Year's celebrations happening around the mansion had annoyed him a little, less than Thanksgiving but more than Christmas. People were too damn happy around here sometimes, celebrating holidays that probably didn't even exist in this world. (Though he had gotten too drunk to stand on New Year's Eve, go figure).

He was happy when things settled down again and he could approach the "new year" on his own terms: slowly, and with a great deal of forethought. He went out for a few hours on New Year's Day and again on the third, and when no bodily harm came to him, he felt a little less like Chicken Little waiting for the sky to fall as he did after breaking every long stretch of solitude.

Here was hoping the third time wasn't the charm.

Adam officially gave no shits as he went looking for the library that day, checking each floor until he finally found where it was hiding. Looking through the stacks was about as calming as it got. A pleasant reminder of his old life.

Jo

It had been a long time since Adam had made plans--real plans, not just bumping into people, or being introduced to others, or getting unexpected visits at this door. Almost every day since arriving in Wonderland had been about living on the defensive. Burying memories as far down as they could go. Reacting. Following other people's lead. Getting away from the Winchesters' version of the Baby-sitters Club had been a good start, but moving out... that had been about hiding his damage from sight, not conquering it. Keeping himself from backsliding was about all he could do.

Or thought he could do.

Calling Jo Harvelle out of the blue and hinting to someone he was afraid his grip might slip one day was different.

Adam didn't know what he was asking when he wanted to talk outside of his little nest of quiet hours and nightmares, only that he knew something had to be done. He was hoping in some weird way that she could give him some direction; he sure as hell didn't trust his "family" enough to sit down with them and try to explain that he worried he was going to fall into a rut he couldn't get out of.

But waiting in front of one of the ballroom's windows felt like a step in some kind of direction.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Adam had already made it crystal clear that he felt as if he was seen as a lower priority, so the fact that he was rubbing it in now only served to frustrate Castiel. He did his best to keep that in check, though, taking a moment to look away and roll his eyes before he said anything.

The fact was that Adam had every reason to be upset, seeing how it was a lack of concern for him that had led to him remaining in the Cage for so long.

"Yes, it is late, but that doesn't mean it shouldn't be done," he insisted. "It shouldn't be painful for me to take a look, nor should it take very long. I think you could spare a few minutes."

He wasn't exactly the type to use a gentle touch with anyone, and so his coaxing wasn't very refined either. Castiel didn't want to do it without permission, but his patience was already running thin.

He could spare a few minutes, but that wasn't what was in question.

"For you guys or for me?" Adam turned to cross his arms, leaning back on the edge of the table. "I mean, what's in this for me? I've already been walking around like this all this time; if Michael wanted to do something to me, like... I don't know, kill me, it probably would've happened already."

Castiel probably didn't have a good grasp of how time passed for normal mortals, either, but did he really need to point out the obvious? Adam paused and gave the angel a long look.

"Unless you're saying you can fix it." His tone contained doubt, built around the fact he already knew Michael was stronger than Castiel.

The last thing Castiel wanted was to get into a back-and-forth argument about this, but could he really be surprised? Adam was a Winchester in one way or another, seeing how he was John's child, and that meant that this should have been expected.

Dean and Sam had both argued with him like this until they'd gotten to know him better, and so Castiel was going to have to accept that and press on despite the frustration it bred in him.

"I think you know just as well as I do that there are things worse than death. Michael knows how to bide his time." That should be enough to make any sane person want to get looked at, but, well -- Adam might not fit into that category.

"And I won't be able to tell you if I can fix it until I determine what's wrong," he pointed out, doing his best to keep his tone neutral rather than letting it drip with sarcasm. He never should have learned about that particular human concept.

Edited 2014-01-14 02:26 (UTC)

"I know," Adam agreed, nodding his head once. "I don't know if you do."

There were things worse than death, but in Adam's mind those things were about humanity, about sacrifice, about love. No matter how much Castiel acted like a humanitarian, did he know about those? Was he capable of understanding them? Did he know what it was like to lose the person who'd been your side your whole life and have to look the people who'd had a passing hand in her death in the face? That was hard. That was worse than the sensation of your body on the brink of death. It was harder than cornering someone in a library and forcing a belated physical on them because Dean Winchester asked you to.

Adam held his lips together, passing air from one cheek to the other in a considering way. He could just as easily get angry as he could stand back and let an angel molest him all over again, but he doubted Castiel would understand that, either.

"Do I even have a choice? You wouldn't risk getting on Michael's bad side without getting the job done."

Castiel is learning about things like humanity and sacrifice and love. The second of the three he's got down to an art by now, though Adam himself wouldn't know that. They're still strangers beyond the few times that the world has decided to throw them together.

However, that doesn't mean that he doesn't know about fates worse than death. Considering Castiel allowed monsters into his vessel, had felt them tear him apart from the inside out and then make use of him to do all kinds of terrible things --

Considering he at one point became so proud, so certain of himself, that he would take on his Father's name, only to have all of that blow up in his face --

He's been through plenty and survived one way or another. It's not the same as eternal torture in Hell, but he's certainly had some bad days.

This isn't a contest, though, and so Castiel speaks of none of that.

His instinct is to tell Adam that he'll be looking at his ribs regardless of what he says, but Castiel holds himself back. That's how angels have always treated Adam, doing what they wanted with him regardless of his own feelings. The only way to break that pattern is to stop himself.

"You do have a choice," he says after a long pause. "If you'd rather go on not knowing what my brother did to you, then so be it."

And what fat lot of good would knowing do? Would it change anything? Michael was still out of the damn Cage, wearing his dad around like a shirt, and so far Sam and Dean hadn't really seemed like they were doing a lot to deal with him.

"I could say the same about you." He lifted his eyebrows. "The other one told me big brother isn't too happy with you playing with his dolls. The one you brought me to. If you wanted to go on breathing, getting on Michael's bad side isn't the smart play. You're going to risk Michael nuking you just because Dean asked you to?"

Adam didn't say "because you want to help me?" because it didn't seem to be about that in the slightest. In making his slightly sardonic inquiry, he stuck to the facts: Dean didn't know when to take a hint, and he'd set his pet angel to sniff around.

If this was about undermining Michael somehow, then Adam really didn't want to get in the middle of their shit-flinging again. Hadn't gone so well the last time.

Castiel was regretting ever having mentioned that Dean was a part of this. He should have said that he'd heard about this from Michael, if only to avoid having to go back and forth about intention. At this point, he was growing tired of hearing Dean's name.

Adam was right on one count, though. Poking around and looking into Michael's work -- more than that, trying to undo it? That was an easy way to plunge himself headfirst into trouble.

Not that he had ever been one to let something as simple as death keep him from doing what needed to be done, of course. In reality, Castiel wanted to be more careful with his life ever since he'd met Dean's future self, but he still had five to spare.

"The other one's name is Gabriel, for the record," he said first. "And I'm aware of what Michael could do to me if he found out. But that doesn't mean I'm going to just let him do as he pleases. I have a few lives saved up here. I'll manage."

He was determined. Castiel's hands twitched, eager to actually do something rather than just stand around talking about it.

In contrast, Adam had plenty of time to speak his mind and be as much of a thorn in the collective Winchester paw as he wanted. Obstinacy was his luxury now. It'd been bought and paid for with his own blood.

He tilted his head at Castiel consideringly. He knew that if Castiel took the kid gloves off, though, Adam's ability to choose would disappear as quick as a flash. Castiel could do whatever he wanted, too. Adam had to wonder when the angel was going to start punishing him for not being an obedient little sheep. The other one... Gabriel, he'd let Adam get away with speaking up as well and hadn't ripped his lungs out for calling bullshit on him.

How much time would he have to spend pushing until their patience ran out? How much time did an angel's sympathy and guilty conscience by him?

He thought he could probably spend the rest of his days playing the blame game and never run out of fuel, unlike them.

After a long moment of deliberation, Adam said, "If I let you do this, will you look at something else for me? That's my price. You poke around in me again, you do something for me."

This was as close to relenting as Adam was going to get, it seemed. That was fine. Castiel didn't mind making a deal with him, and more than that, he'd keep to it -- unlike his deal with a certain demon.

Though that all depended on whether he was actually capable of seeing to Adam's request. He'd rather know what he was in for before he agreed to anything.

"What do you want looked at? I'd rather determine I'm capable of it before we make it official." Whatever that meant. With demons, it was a kiss. With humans, a handshake seemed to suffice. For all he knew, Adam would have him put it in writing.

Either way, he was curious to hear what Adam was invested in, as he hadn't shown much interest in much of anything since he'd arrived in this place.

Not a surprise, maybe, that Adam didn't have the same faith in Castiel's ability or willingness to hold true on an agreement. If what he'd learned about Zachariah and Michael--and even Satan--was anything to go by, angels didn't care to negotiate with beings they considered beneath them.

But in this case, he knew what he was asking would be nothing to Castiel. If he said "no" or failed to do what he promised, Adam wouldn't be any worse off than he already was, and likewise if the angel couldn't do anything about his ribs, then he was still up shit creek. The terms weren't even at all, but they were as close to even as an agreement between a monster and a human was ever going to get.

He straightened up from the table, tone steady despite the subject matter. "My soul. I want you to look at my soul."

Castiel should have expected it. Adam's soul was a fragile thing, flayed to the nerve, sectioned into pieces and then put back together in the wrong sequence. Castiel doubted there was anything he could do to help with the healing progress. Gabriel had already done his best, and beyond a so-called dressing change, there wasn't much to be done.

Still, all Adam was asking was for him to look, rather than to fix, and Castiel could manage that much.

"To determine what state it's in since you arrived?" he asked for clarification. "I can do that." He didn't know how easily he would be able to translate what he saw into something that Adam could understand, but he would does his best with it.

Seeing how both tasks -- examining Adam's ribs and then his soul -- were in a similar vein, this could all be done in one shot. Castiel didn't know that it was a good idea to do in the middle of the library, though.

"To tell me what's making me different from a demon."

Since meeting Crowley and Meg and questioning them separately, demons had been on his mind a lot, so much so that his own curiosity about their creation struck him as academic now, rather than odd or unsettling. The more he thought about Hell and the things that lived there, the more he wanted to know. Needed to know. Especially about how Hell's ability to turn humans into monsters reflected on him.

Fear wasn't at the heart of his inquiry, more like tentative hope. If someone could give him a straight answer for once, then the pain he expected this little fishing expedition to cause might be worth it. At least then he would know.

Adam looked around. "So how do we do this? Do I need a change of pants?"

All Michael had had to do was touch him to make him feel like he was dying the first time, and not to mention what had happened on his first day in Wonderland... If he was going to end up hurting so bad he was going to spend the rest of the week curled up in the bathroom, he'd like to know ahead of time.

Edited 2014-01-19 19:17 (UTC)

Castiel's fairly certain he could answer that question without even looking at Adam's soul. There are rules for how a demon is made, and the fact is that Michael and Lucifer most likely hadn't been attempting to change Adam into one. Torture alone isn't enough. It's only when someone takes up the blade and starts torturing others that the corruption truly begins.

Even then, it takes some time, which is the only reason that Dean was able to make it out of Hell with his soul more or less intact.

Still, if Adam wants him to look, then he'll look. Castiel's willing to honor the terms of the deal. "I don't see why you'd need a different pair of pants for this," he mutters uncertainly, not quite understanding Adam's meaning.

"But we should move somewhere more private. Touching a soul is a very delicate process, and it's most likely going to be painful."

The library isn't exactly packed full with people, but there are a few mirrors here and there, and people could also wander in.

Castiel's remark earned a look that had the strange effect of being noncommittal and exasperated all at the same time. Talk about an inability to read between the lines.

"Thanks," he said, turning to scoop his books off the table. "I kind of got that from just about every time I've talked to one of you. So where? Pick a time and a place and I'll meet you there."

To say he felt a little nervousness at the prospect of letting an angel poke around inside him again was an understatement. He kept his suggestion curt in order to keep that nervousness from growing turning itself into crippling doubt.

They weren't doing this right now? It sounded as if Adam wanted to put it off until another time, though Castiel didn't see the point of that. There wasn't much reason for him to question it, though. If he started to argue, then that might cause Adam to pull the whole deal off the table.

He would have to be patient.

"Tonight, after dark... around eight o' clock. Meet me at the edge of the woods. I'll show you where to go from there." The resistance hideout would be their final destination. Castiel had no idea if Adam was even aware of it, if Dean and Sam had seen fit to fill him in.

Still, he was their family when all was said and done, so Castiel doubted that it would be a problem to show him the most guarded place in Wonderland. (Save for maybe Adam's own room.)

"My brother won't be able to follow us," he assured him.

He turned with his books in his arms, already frowning. Whoa, back it up--the angel wanted him to meet him outside, in the dark, to take him to some undisclosed location?

That was just all kinds of wrong. Despite his obvious flaws, Zachariah had been a lot better at disguising the lure.

"Outside?" There was no failing to miss the suspicion there. For the first time since Castiel had surprised him, that protective shell of deadpan humor he held tight to gave way to something else, another emotion that was closer to the truth of what he was feeling than the rest. He would have asked if Castiel was joking, but that seemed to be a genetic mutation that only Gabriel had. "Is there an unmarked van and a blindfold, too?"

Michael not being able to find him was great in theory, but who was going to save him from the other angel who sounded remarkable like a scripted kidnapper?

Apparently there was something wrong with his suggestion, judging from Adam's reaction. Castiel didn't quite understand, though. If they wanted to be discreet, the woods was a good place to avoid any attention.

"No, there are neither of those things," he said after a long, confused pause. He didn't know how to drive and if he truly wanted to blind Adam, he had better methods than a blindfold.

"It's difficult to find a place in the mansion where there are no mirrors present," Castiel reminded Adam. "Though if you have a better suggestion for a meeting place and time, then name it."

This shouldn't have been so complicated to organize, but Castiel was doing his utmost best to be patient. He didn't understand why Adam had asked him to set the terms when he was determined to argue with them, though.

Adam's eyebrows twitched. Oblivious to the end, this guy.

If he was as two-faced as Zachariah had been, he was a damn sight better at hiding it. And maybe Castiel was the one good angel in the whole flock who was really just trying to do whatever he thought was right, but what was right and what was in Adam's best interests were two entirely different things. Since when was he supposed to trust Castiel? Was that a switch he was supposed to have flipped in his brain sometime in the last few months?

"So this is about not wanting the mirror guys to spy on you?" he clarified. "And not wanting to lead me somewhere I don't know in the dark? I just want to be sure. I mean, the last time I wandered away with one of you, it ended up with a giant monster angel with a bunch of screaming faces shoving himself inside me."

He didn't have a better time or place in mind other than "I wish I didn't have to deal with angels." He didn't even really want to be here, having to wrap his head around this.

"Maybe you didn't notice, but this whole trust thing is a big ask."

It was strange to hear a human describe being inhabited by an angel in that way, but Castiel had seen Michael's true form many times, and he didn't even have to think twice about what Adam was referring to. If he could cower under Michael's Grace, then what would it do to a human?

That helped it click, helped Castiel see things from Adam's side. Adam was being so difficult about this because deep down, he was frightened. In a way, he had good reason to be. Angels were, when you got right down to it, fearsome and dangerous creatures.

Castiel was quiet for a moment as he rolled that all over in his mind. "I realize," he said eventually. "But avoiding the Mirrors and Michael was my only intention with that suggestion. If you have a better one, then you can offer it."

They could go down to the shoreline, or even to that hedge maze. It didn't matter, so long as it was outside.

Somehow Adam really doubted the angel did realize. Did angels have souls that could feel like shredded wheat someone had chewed up and spat back into their Monday morning cereal bowl, or had the light and noise in the Cage just been the physical representation of an angel's inner lying, smug self?

... The anger inside him made him want to say as much, and for all he knew it was an unholy fire blazing in his soul that was about to burn him up. Would Castiel be able to see it if he looked hard enough?

The corner of his mouth kicked up for a moment. "I'd invite you to my room, but I don't think you'd like the decorating scheme." The humorless smile faded. "I'll go, if you have some playhouse out there Michael's not invited to. Just give me directions and I can make it myself."

The decorating scheme. Castiel was well aware of what Adam had done to his room, seeing how he'd made multiple attempts to contact him before now and had failed due to the warding. It was a clear message that he didn't want much of anything to do with angels, and yet here they were. Castiel had gotten through to him somehow, though it had taken time.

He didn't see why Adam wouldn't agree to meeting him and then letting him lead the way from there. It would be worlds simpler than giving the directions, seeing how the hideout wasn't the easiest place to find.

"I'll have to write them down," he said. "It's not something I can speak about, at least not within the walls of the mansion." Castiel didn't have anything to write on with him, but a certain someone had given him a journal as a Christmas gift. He would need to go by Dean's room and grab it, but that wouldn't take very long.

"Wait here," he said, and then he was gone.

"No--" But he was too slow in getting the words out. The angel was there one minute, gone the next, leaving Adam standing there in annoyed disbelief.

Fuck this. At point would stop trying to lead him around by the nose?

He felt stupid, but else was he supposed to do besides look around helplessly and wait? Make a break for it? Run to his room and pretend the whole thing hadn't happened? Nice though it would be to have an escape hatch, apparently he was locked in now.

Lucky him.

The one good thing was that Adam didn't have to wait long. Castiel was back in a matter of seconds with a journal and a pen in his hand.

"If you follow these instructions exactly, you should have no problem finding the location," Castiel said as he flipped the journal over and started to write out a neat list.

Did he trust someone as damaged as Adam to be able to get there on his own? Not exactly, but Castiel didn't have much of a choice, not when Adam was being so difficult.

Hesitation marked his response to Castiel's reappearance. Instructions...? To some kind of angel hideout? Could he be any more stupid for making more deals with angels and considering following one to some place he didn't know? His memories of the Cage told him to run like hell. It didn't matter what kind of person Castiel was, or what he'd done before the Cage, or even what he'd done for Adam after. It didn't matter that he very likely felt guilty enough to genuinely try to watch Adam's back. He was his brothers' friend, and more than that, one of them. One of the inhuman assholes who'd put him in this situation to begin with.

If only things were as black and white as that. If they were, maybe his own sense of betrayal would be enough to keep him warm at night, keep him worrying about his own life or what Michael might have up his sleeve.

He swallowed. "Fine."

Castiel wasn't the only one who doubted what Adam was capable of. Adam didn't trust himself either, but he trusted others to look out for him even less. Trust an angel or trust himself? He had to go with the lesser of two evils.

That wasn't much of a response, but Adam hadn't refused, and that was all that Castiel cared about. He'd worked to hard to get him to agree to even this much.

It took a few moments to write everything out in a way that Adam would be able to follow, but Castiel put it all in there. How to get to the ridge and then climb down into it, and at the end he wrote out the password -- "back on the block" -- and the instruction to say that out loud in order for the hideout to become accessible.

Castiel remained quiet until he was done writing, and then he tore the piece of paper out of the journal and handed it over to Adam.

"I'll be waiting."

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