And Grace Will Lead Me Home: Casting

[epiphanyx7]

CHARACTERS/CASTING
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For those who would like a visual guide as they wade through the many lives of our main cast.




If hunting things and saving people is the family business, then Castiel deserves to be a honorary Winchester at the very least. He's an Angel of the Lord, no doubt about that, but the way he does this job -- the way he focuses, so intent and determined, almost as if he wants nothing more than to destroy the monster at hand... it's humbling to see him at work, to see the way he's more than willing to risk his life to save even a single human soul.


"What do you hunt?"

The chupacabra's snarl is barely audible before the thing manages to hurl itself right into the centre of the group. It's scary fast, leaping at one of the kids with its teeth bared, sharp and sickening in the half-light. The gunshot is too loud, ricocheting around the small space as the chupacabra's body is snapped to the side mid-flight, blood spattering the ground as it flops, heavy onto the ground.

Sam cocks the shotgun, shoots it once more in the head to ensure it's dead. He looks at the woman who is staring at him in shock, and then he transfers his gaze to the scaly creature on the ground. "Monsters," he answers, reloading the shotgun and shouldering it with ease.


"Shit, Sammy," Dean says, reaching out to grip Sam's arm. "Did you see me? I wasted that bastard, smote him right off of this plane of existence. You okay?"


Gabriel wanders in after him, looking amused at the posters on the wall and the various things scattered around the room. "What's this?" he asks, poking at Sam's Blackberry. "Does it have an Internet?"

---

Sam stares at the man standing on his porch, and then at the big, black car idling in the driveway. "I really hope you're not here to arrest me," Sam says, seriously. "Because I'm too old to be a fugitive. It's hell on the knees." He opens the door, and waves the man in.

---

"Come on," Dean says, twisting around to look at Cas for a moment before he puts his eyes back onto the road. "Cas -- you didn't think I was going to just leave you alone, did you?"


Castiel looks down at the puppy.

The puppy makes a happy, growling bark and bows down, thumping her little tail on the carpet.

---

"That gods-damned retirement community is boring as hell," Bobby grumbles. "And I'm only a hundred and four, you idjit. You can't even do math, you ought to get your ass back into a hospital bed before you get somebody killed."


"Seriously, the two of you -- I will turn this car around and then kill you with a shovel and bury you at a crossroads if you don't chill the fuck out-- Hello again, Officer," Dean says, still smiling. "Everything in order?"


"This is ridiculous," a ten-year-old Sam says, when the papers are finally signed and he is officially Sam Winchester, adopted son of Castiel Winchester.


The goldfish ignores him.

Yup. Probably Dean.

---

“My name is Sami, and I’m seven years old, and when I grow up I'm going to be a ballerina-engineer-lawyer-astronaut. That's a lawyer who can build rocket-ships so that I can dance in space,” the child announces, proudly. “I'm also gonna be president. What’s your name?”


"It's hard to be the new kid. My advice? Don't use the drinking fountain next to the music room." And with those helpful, albeit random, words of wisdom, Dean is gone again.

---

And then, of course, things go right back to the way they used to be. Sam comes by in the afternoons, hangs out and makes excited hand gestures when he talks about scholarships. Sometimes, Sam will say things like "Stanford is going to be so amazing, the campus is --" and then he stops with a frown on his face.


"You're not funny," D says, but her face is doing this complicated thing where it is attempting to frown in displeasure and break into uncontrollable laughter all at once, and her voice is suspiciously reminiscent of someone attempting to hold back laughter.

---