Desperate Measures, [Castiel]

[CLAY DAWSON]

The heavy oak doors shifted open with a long creak; a shadow from the outside street light cast itself down the long aisle between the pews where a man stood in the doorway, dark eyes flickering up toward the dimly lit altar. It was late, and the place was empty, but open, as it usually was. Clay had walked past this church a thousand times in his life. It was one of Richmond's largest, and he could always see the top spire when he was flying... but he'd never stepped inside. It had always seemed foolish to him. He didn't believe in God, he didn't believe in Angels, and up until recently he hadn't believed in Demons... but if Demons were real, maybe everything else was, too.

By now he knew the Great Spirit couldn't help him with this problem. And he was getting desperate. His dreams held no answers; his wings brought him nowhere he hadn't already been looking.

"This is insane," he muttered to himself, before walking down the aisle, looking up at the candlelight on the face of the crucifix, the statue of Mary, the altar draped in white and soft gold. He sat down in the frontmost pew, and sighed, sitting forward with his forearms on his thighs... and he dropped his head, shutting his eyes, clasping his hands together.

The Thunderbird prayed.

"I don't know who's listening," he murmured, voice uncertain, "Or if you even listen to us monsters... but Wind and Spirits... hah, God, angels, if you're there... I need help." His voice tightened, and he squeezed his hands together, swallowing. "My friend, Matteus. Matteus Carrington... Really good kid. He taught me how to protect myself from demons. Lightning doesn't cut it anymore. Well, he's... he's missing, he's not answering his phone, and... I'm scared, he's one of my only friends and he's a light in all this darkness and I just want him back safe." His pulse was picking up; he took a deep breath and sighed. "If there's anyone listening, anyone willing to help a battle-weary Animikii... Please."

He squeezed his eyes shut. "I can't do this alone."

[Sariel]

In the darkness I will be your guiding light

The voice was like a call that travelled to the heavens as a whales cry through water. Inhuman, yet desperate, as so many were, and like many, there had been every intention to ignore this cry, there was too much going on, far too many more vital things to be dealt with, to worry about one simple little human. The End of Days drew near, humanity lay on the brink of absolute destruction ... or eternal Paradise. What was the point in saving one life, when so much more was at stake? "Or if you even listen to us monsters... but Wind and Spirits... hah, God, angels, if you're there... I need help." Quietly, a priest attended the floor, silent, as invisible as possible so not to cause any visitors discomfort or awkwardness as they spoke to their Father almighty. Candles were being attended to on the alter, two carefully lit and a bowed head offered with a silent prayer spoken in the human’s mind.

"My friend, Matteus. Matteus Carrington... Really good kid. He taught me how to protect myself from demons. Lightning doesn't cut it anymore. Well, he's... he's missing, he's not answering his phone, and... I'm scared, he's one of my only friends and he's a light in all this darkness and I just want him back safe." A family in the pews stood up, a mother cradling a toddler in her arms as she shuffled along with another clinging to her skirt, red eyes stained by tears averted from the sole other stranger in the church, head down as she passed by Clay. "If there's anyone listening, anyone willing to help a battle-weary Animikii... Please." The young girl clinging to her mothers skirt started whispering, and the closer to the door they got the more inquisitively demanding it got, would praying bring her father back? Why didn’t he speak back to them when they talked to him? What were they going to eat and could they eat now? Did daddy like her new dress? The whispers that broke ones heart, the priest had heard them all before and he swallowed the heartache, closing his eyes and wondering if Jefferson would spare him today’s confessions of undesirable urges towards his step daughters. Just today, just one week without having to start the coming weekend on such a note, or maybe be spared Lily’s rage towards her husband’s indifference that made her so sick she all she could do was vent and fume, retaliate with affairs and self indulgence. Just one weekend, after all these years, all he wanted to do was go home without such a heavy heart, just one weekend, just so he had a chance to cope with his own losses.

"I can't do this alone." In the silence of the area, a whispered word could barely be heard, the Priests brown eyes raising to the ceiling searching, his lips moving again questioningly though the words feather soft and barely vocalized. A pulse in the air, tangible, intense, the priests body the target of a pillar of light, and the energy in the air sweeping by, the entrance to the church slamming shut, along with the other doors, ensuring privacy. A pause later, and hands rose from where they hung by the priests side, eyes examining them briefly as fingers flexed, and then the body turned, chocolate skin and honey brown eyes, staring at the Animikii as if at first uncertain what to make of him. A tightness would be felt forming about Clay, an unseen barrier that wrapped around him and held him in place, firm, restrictive, but not harmful, intentionally painless. The priest vanished, appearing uncomfortably close to the Thunderbird, the unknown of the situation possibly unnerving and yet everything about the Priest’s demeanor suggested whatever was currently controlling him intended not to be of harm, at least at the moment. A shuddered breath was released, which seemed more pained then any emotional reason, the mental grip however didn’t loosen, there was no time for chatting, no time for chasing, there was just simply no time.

Leaning closer, the commandeered Priest whispered in Clay’s ear, a sad, softly spoken, "When you find him, tell him not to be sad any more." Leaning back, the Priest raised a hand, inside which he held a piece of paper, and with that, the soft honey gaze peered skyward, a then in an eruption of light, the presence was gone again, spilling back up to where it belonged, releasing its hold on Clay simultaneously. The departure looked almost pained, causing the human’s muscles to clench, and needing to ease after he blinked, glancing around as if unsure how he got so close to the stranger, taking an awkward step back, still holding up the paper. "Uhm." The human started, hesitantly holding the note out still for Clay. "I am... supposed to give you this?" All that was on the paper was a name, Castiel, the questioning tone of the man now returned to his senses, still looking around, still uncertain, still wondering if he really was awake or not.

[CLAY DAWSON]

The suddenness of the doors slamming shut startled the Thunderbird; much like a surprised animal, his shoulders curled, and he would have ruffled his own feathers if they were present. Despite the human shape, a lot of his habits carried over far too easily. Sometimes it made him seem a little odd, or eccentric, but more often than not it went unnoticed. He was looking up at the altar now with gold eyes as static jumped between his clasped hands, an instinctive release of energy... and then he felt a strange weight, pressing down on him like an air current, a pulse of voltage through a storm cloud, a heaviness on his wings, his shoulders. He remained still, finding he couldn't move anyway, but he was calm, oddly enough. There was something soft and inoffensive about the feeling that didn't automatically send him into a claustrophobic fit.

The priest was with him suddenly; a gasp passed his lips, and he looked up hesitantly, his senses flying wild. Spirit energy. So much of it... his partial spirit nature allowed him to be naturally in tune with such things, though he almost never knew what it was. Right now, though, he was certain... It was not really the priests's voice he'd was hearing. Had... had he actually been heard...?

...tell him not to be so sad... ...a personal request? Did... whoever had a hold on this man's mind know who he had been speaking of? Matteus... Clay was stunned into silence, looking up with a tilt of his head like an inquisitive bird. "I should like to," he answered very softly, almost afraid to speak. It felt the sane as communing with his ancestors; the same intense energy, the sense of otherworldliness, beyond himself. But then it was over as the priest was released in that white light, leaving Clay staring, perhaps less bothered by the personal proximity than the priest actually was. He was handed a piece of paper, and he numbly accepted it, nodding. "The Great Spirit guide you, and your God, father," he said, looking down at the paper, rubbing it with his thumb. "Thank you."

When the priest had gone, Clay swallowed, reading the name again. He felt as if he'd had just been handed a phone number. It certainly looked like an Angel's name... With a deep breath, he tried again, curling his hands together with the paper cdumpled in his fingers. "Castiel," he spoke, voice almost shaking. "If you can help me, Castiel, if you're kind enough to listen to a tired Thunderbird, if you can help me help Matteus... I need you."

[CASTIEL]

And you were waiting on the edge of the unknown

"The Great Spirit guide you, and your God, father," A quizzical stare, an unsure smile, and soon the priest wandered off, too dazed to manage anything else other then retreating to a more private area. "Thank you." The words that followed him as a dark hand pulled open the door were received with a nervous look back, another uncertain nod, and then vanished off.

"Castiel," The name resounded through the world with the same intensity as any time one prayed for the angel, though it seemed a more regular thing of late compared to decades previously where his name seemed lost to the human populace. "If you can help me, Castiel, if you're kind enough to listen to a tired Thunderbird, if you can help me help Matteus... I need you." There was a sudden appearance in response, blue eyes peering intensely into Clay’s yellow, tight jaw and squinted gaze, almost judging, a flurry of feathers and rushing air that Clay would find an all too familiar sound as Castiel landed. There was no flash of light, no grand entrance, just a sudden appearance, one that had him toe to toe with his caller, faces inches apart.

"Matteus Carrington?" Came the first question, which seemed answered before Clay even needed to speak, and allowed Castiel’s graveled voice to drag on with a tone of strict importance. "What help does he require?" Considering the first time Castiel met Matteus had been after the human had toyed with summoning an angel, to which the angel of Thursday had eventually pointed out ‘summoning for kicks’ was usually frowned upon, however it had also saved Castiel’s life. Granted at the sacrifice of Sariel’s, or so they all assumed, who happened to be a friend of Matteus - much to Castiel utter amazement - and so the human had been rather devastated to discover this. By further chance, Matteus was also friends with Tamara, another human and the first one he had met (after Bobby Singer anyway) since his return from oblivion. The Carrington boy had knowledge on how to hide himself from angels, and it wouldn’t surprise Castiel if the human wanted some time alone, he had been in a unpleasant mood last they met after discovering Lark and Maion were one and the same. Of course, vanishing from sight seemed overly dramatic, but humans had that tendency, what worried them the most had to be the fact that on top of that, Matteus wasn’t responding to Tamara’s phone calls either.

Maybe this creature had information regarding Matteus’s location, maybe he knew something about what happened and why he wasn’t letting anyone contact him, or maybe this was just another friend wondering where Matteus had vanished off to.

Sorry it is on the short side.