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last01standingTitle: Five For Fighting (7/12)
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Dean, Sam centered with an epic supporting cast
Summary: For the Winchester brothers hockey was always something apart from hunting until one season it suddenly wasn’t.
For those of you not familiar with hockey, you can read a quick primer on game basics here
one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten | eleven | twelve | epilogue
Five For Fighting
CHAPTER 7: Castiel
Sam believed him. Dean could read it on his face the instant he flashed the wings. Dean didn’t buy that particular brand of bullshit but in his book a faux angel creature was better then a goalkeeper possessed by a demon.
“Why are you here?” Sam asked, somewhat reverently.
“He’s here because he got traded,” Dean growled. “Why the hell do you think he’s here?”
Castiel cast an inquisitive glance at Dean before hesitantly turning his focus to Sam. “There have been signs cropping up all around this league for the years. Ever since The Season That Wasn’t, we have suspected that the final battle would be centered around the organization known as the National Hockey League.”
“You mean the apocalypse?” Sam said. “The possessions in Philly.”
Castiel nodded solemnly. “Much of the New Jersey Devils are inhabited by God’s legions.”
Dean snorted. Both Sam and Castiel stared at him. “I’m sorry,” he said. “But the NHL as a vehicle for the apocalypse? The New Jersey Devil’s being ridden by freaking angels? I don’t buy it.”
Blue eyes narrowed as Castiel took a step toward Dean. “Are you questioning the word of God?”
“I’m questioning God himself, big guy. I don’t believe in him and I definitely don’t believe you.”
“There is a reason I’ve been sent here,” Castiel said. “Is it not true that you, the Winchester brothers have endeavored to hunt throughout the season? I’m here to offer you help and protection.”
“Why us?” Sam asked.
“Because you’re important. You are both involved in God’s plan.”
“Well, that’s super.” Dean clapped his hands together. “But let me tell you this; we need a goalkeeper more then a babysitter.”
“This is important,” Castiel insisted.
“So is the game,” Dean snapped, signaling for Sam to head out the door. “We’ll be watching you. And stop scaring Chuck.”
***
There wasn’t much time to worry. The team flew to Phoenix, holding up in another hotel while they waited for their Sunday matinee against the Coyotes. Instead of enjoying the nightlife, Dean found himself with his brother and his girlfriend in their cramped room with the windows drawn watching the New Jersey Devils square off with the Philadelphia Flyers.
“Angels and demons, huh?” Jess said. She’d popped a bag of popcorn in the small kitchenette’s microwave, tossing a few kernels into her mouth. “Playing hockey?”
“That’s what I keep trying to tell this one,” Dean muttered, jerking a thumb toward his brother. “It’s like saying you can go to a petting zoo and ride a unicorn.”
“I’m taking the Devils in overtime,” Sam said abruptly.
“And by the Devils you don’t mean the demons but the team full of supposed angels?”
“You know what I mean, Dean.”
“I doubt a bunch of pansy ass angels can play hockey. I’ll take the Flyers in regulation.”
“Standard bet,” Jess asked. “You two going to shake on it or what?”
“And leave you out of this action?” Dean teased. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”
“I’m in.” His brother stuck out a hand. “The demons win this hockey game and I’ll be on weapons smuggling for the next road trip.”
“You know I’m taking that bet.”
The New Jersey Devil’s won three goals to two in regulation.
“Good triumphs over evil,” Sam cried gleefully.
“I still think this angels and demon thing is bullshit,” Dean grumbled, already mentally rolling through the ways of how to sneak an arsenal past airport security.
***
Castiel showed up in Dean’s dream.
“Lemme guess,” Dean sneered. “Dreamwalking is another manifestation of your angelic power and you’re here to show me the true path so you can win your wings.”
“I already have wings.”
“Saw your buddies lay a beating down on the demons up in Philly.”
“The game is not important.”
“Like hell the game isn’t important.”
“There is a bigger picture,” Castiel growled. “In the past two months, I have lost many of my brothers to this higher cause. There are seals strewn throughout the country. Like locks against the gateway to hell. If sixty-six of them fall, then Lucifer walks free.”
“So why the hell are you here?”
“Because I have been tasked with your protection. I am not one to question the higher powers.”
“Why are you here.”
“To inform you that another seal has fallen tonight. To encourage you to be on your guard.”
“In other words, you’re here because you can be. Do me a favor, Cas and get out of my head.”
***
The locker room before the game was a somber affair. Victor Hendriksen had gotten word of an accident to Carl Rubesen. He in critical condition in a hospital in New Jersey after an apparent hit and run. Dean shifted in his seat, tugging on his skates, recognizing the situation for what it was.
Someone had done an exorcism and the exorcism had left Carl Rubesen in the hospital, slave to the wounds Ruby had inflicted before she screamed out of him. Sam and Dean exchanged glances but every one else on the team had their eyes on Castiel, on Jimmy Novak as he attempted to ascertain the right way to put on the pads.
“I’d say we dodged that bullet,” Gordon Walker growled, glaring at Castiel in disdain. “But I’m not so sure.”
“Lay of him,” Chuck snapped.
“Guys,” Dean barked. “Settle down! Game time.”
“Win this one for Rube,” Lucas said quietly. “Even if he isn’t one of us anymore.”
***
It turned out that while the majority of angels might be more then adept at ice hockey, Castiel was not one of them. The technique, miraculously was there, but the rebounds were long at he had problems getting back up to his feet.
The game turned into a shootout, a up-tempo, run and gun affair that the Phoenix crowd loved and Dean despised. He was most at home in a defensive minded game. His brother had always been the more offensive of the pair. Dean was an old-fashioned kind of defensemen. The kind that racked up the minutes. The kind you wanted on the ice while trying to kill a 5v3. Every team had at least one guy like him but in the increasingly offensive minded league, they were becoming more and more scarce.
They lost six to four. Dean had an assist and the highest plus/minus on the team but it wasn’t something he cared about. He just wanted a win. Castiel was the last one in the locker room, well after the rest of the team had headed back to the hotel.
“Rough game,” Dean offered, unsure of how exactly he was supposed to talk to a being that claimed to be an angel.
“I understand theory of the game,” Castiel said. He’d changed back into the trench coat at some point though neither Dean nor anyone else had seen it happen. “I’ve watch since its inception. I simply cannot... reconcile the differences between theory and practice.”
“If you’re going hang with us humans, you know you’re going to have to learn to play this game.”
“I know how to play this game.”
“That’s good to hear but when we get back to Lawrence, we’re going to get some practice.”
***
Which was how Dean found himself staying late a every practice to give Castiel pointers. He’d been a goaltender for a year in a juniors league and while he’d hated every minute of it, he’d been pretty good.
Of course, he’d been twelve at the time. Nowhere near NHL level, but good enough to know basic tactics.
Castiel had it easier then most. His vessel, Jimmy Novak was known as one of the most technically sound goaltender in the league. The muscle memory was there. It just took a while for him to teach Castiel how to use it.
But he got better.
And suddenly, before he knew it, it was the all star break. A five game break for the Winchester brothers while the league’s best gathered in Washington DC for their annual showing. The only player on the Rage with an invite was Victor Hendriksen but Andy Gallagher had been invited for the shooting accuracy part of the skills competition and Ben Braeden had been selected for the annual rookies against sophomores game.
The Winchesters had a hunt lined up for the day but even when they were on different teams, they always found a way to watch the All-Star Game together. It had been this way for as long as Dean could remember. Their own version of a holiday because NHL or not, Dean suspected neither of them would ever play in the All Star Game itself.
That didn’t matter to Dean. He was just glad to be able kick back and share a beer with his little brother.
What he didn’t expect was Castiel, quite literally appearing between the two of them at the start of the third period. “What the hell?” Dean cried, nearly spilling the half empty bottle of beer. “Dude, wear a bell or something!”
“Our presence is needed elsewhere.”
“What the hell are you---“ Sam didn’t get a chance to finish because all of a sudden the three of them were standing on the first floor of what Dean recognized as the Verizon center in Washington DC. The site of this year’s the All Star Game. Home of the Washington Capitals.
“There is a seal in danger of being broken.”
“Are we in DC?”
“The entire stadium is in danger,” Castiel said. “There is dark magic abounding tonight. I cannot---“
He disappeared midword.
“I’m going to go ahead and guess this isn’t good.”
“You got an EMF on you?”
“Dude I got nothing. I thought we were just watching the game.”
“We’re screwed, aren’t we?”
“It’s kind of looking that way.”
The arena erupted into cheers. The smattering of people wondering the concourse all tried to duck back into the arena to see the celebrations and the replay of the goal onscreen. But there was one figure who wasn’t interest in the game. A short guy wearing a baggy sweatshirt, tearing past the snack bars in his haste to get away.
Sam squinted at him. “Andy?”
Andy Gallagher skidded to a stop in front of the Winchesters. His face was pale and sweaty, his breathing coming in ragged gasps. “Sam! Dean! What are you guys doing here?”
“Came to see the game,” Dean said, cutting Sam off before he could say anything. “What happened to you? You look like you just got bulldozed.”
“There’s something going on in here,” Andy sputtered, gesticulating wildly. “There are people—with eyes—who keep.” He forced himself to stop and took a deep breath. “They’ve got Ben.”
***
I am SO SORRY for the delay. Hope you all had a wonderful Christmas. Next one should come a few ticks faster.
| eight |
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Dean, Sam centered with an epic supporting cast
Summary: For the Winchester brothers hockey was always something apart from hunting until one season it suddenly wasn’t.
For those of you not familiar with hockey, you can read a quick primer on game basics here
CHAPTER 7: Castiel
Sam believed him. Dean could read it on his face the instant he flashed the wings. Dean didn’t buy that particular brand of bullshit but in his book a faux angel creature was better then a goalkeeper possessed by a demon.
“Why are you here?” Sam asked, somewhat reverently.
“He’s here because he got traded,” Dean growled. “Why the hell do you think he’s here?”
Castiel cast an inquisitive glance at Dean before hesitantly turning his focus to Sam. “There have been signs cropping up all around this league for the years. Ever since The Season That Wasn’t, we have suspected that the final battle would be centered around the organization known as the National Hockey League.”
“You mean the apocalypse?” Sam said. “The possessions in Philly.”
Castiel nodded solemnly. “Much of the New Jersey Devils are inhabited by God’s legions.”
Dean snorted. Both Sam and Castiel stared at him. “I’m sorry,” he said. “But the NHL as a vehicle for the apocalypse? The New Jersey Devil’s being ridden by freaking angels? I don’t buy it.”
Blue eyes narrowed as Castiel took a step toward Dean. “Are you questioning the word of God?”
“I’m questioning God himself, big guy. I don’t believe in him and I definitely don’t believe you.”
“There is a reason I’ve been sent here,” Castiel said. “Is it not true that you, the Winchester brothers have endeavored to hunt throughout the season? I’m here to offer you help and protection.”
“Why us?” Sam asked.
“Because you’re important. You are both involved in God’s plan.”
“Well, that’s super.” Dean clapped his hands together. “But let me tell you this; we need a goalkeeper more then a babysitter.”
“This is important,” Castiel insisted.
“So is the game,” Dean snapped, signaling for Sam to head out the door. “We’ll be watching you. And stop scaring Chuck.”
There wasn’t much time to worry. The team flew to Phoenix, holding up in another hotel while they waited for their Sunday matinee against the Coyotes. Instead of enjoying the nightlife, Dean found himself with his brother and his girlfriend in their cramped room with the windows drawn watching the New Jersey Devils square off with the Philadelphia Flyers.
“Angels and demons, huh?” Jess said. She’d popped a bag of popcorn in the small kitchenette’s microwave, tossing a few kernels into her mouth. “Playing hockey?”
“That’s what I keep trying to tell this one,” Dean muttered, jerking a thumb toward his brother. “It’s like saying you can go to a petting zoo and ride a unicorn.”
“I’m taking the Devils in overtime,” Sam said abruptly.
“And by the Devils you don’t mean the demons but the team full of supposed angels?”
“You know what I mean, Dean.”
“I doubt a bunch of pansy ass angels can play hockey. I’ll take the Flyers in regulation.”
“Standard bet,” Jess asked. “You two going to shake on it or what?”
“And leave you out of this action?” Dean teased. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”
“I’m in.” His brother stuck out a hand. “The demons win this hockey game and I’ll be on weapons smuggling for the next road trip.”
“You know I’m taking that bet.”
The New Jersey Devil’s won three goals to two in regulation.
“Good triumphs over evil,” Sam cried gleefully.
“I still think this angels and demon thing is bullshit,” Dean grumbled, already mentally rolling through the ways of how to sneak an arsenal past airport security.
Castiel showed up in Dean’s dream.
“Lemme guess,” Dean sneered. “Dreamwalking is another manifestation of your angelic power and you’re here to show me the true path so you can win your wings.”
“I already have wings.”
“Saw your buddies lay a beating down on the demons up in Philly.”
“The game is not important.”
“Like hell the game isn’t important.”
“There is a bigger picture,” Castiel growled. “In the past two months, I have lost many of my brothers to this higher cause. There are seals strewn throughout the country. Like locks against the gateway to hell. If sixty-six of them fall, then Lucifer walks free.”
“So why the hell are you here?”
“Because I have been tasked with your protection. I am not one to question the higher powers.”
“Why are you here.”
“To inform you that another seal has fallen tonight. To encourage you to be on your guard.”
“In other words, you’re here because you can be. Do me a favor, Cas and get out of my head.”
The locker room before the game was a somber affair. Victor Hendriksen had gotten word of an accident to Carl Rubesen. He in critical condition in a hospital in New Jersey after an apparent hit and run. Dean shifted in his seat, tugging on his skates, recognizing the situation for what it was.
Someone had done an exorcism and the exorcism had left Carl Rubesen in the hospital, slave to the wounds Ruby had inflicted before she screamed out of him. Sam and Dean exchanged glances but every one else on the team had their eyes on Castiel, on Jimmy Novak as he attempted to ascertain the right way to put on the pads.
“I’d say we dodged that bullet,” Gordon Walker growled, glaring at Castiel in disdain. “But I’m not so sure.”
“Lay of him,” Chuck snapped.
“Guys,” Dean barked. “Settle down! Game time.”
“Win this one for Rube,” Lucas said quietly. “Even if he isn’t one of us anymore.”
It turned out that while the majority of angels might be more then adept at ice hockey, Castiel was not one of them. The technique, miraculously was there, but the rebounds were long at he had problems getting back up to his feet.
The game turned into a shootout, a up-tempo, run and gun affair that the Phoenix crowd loved and Dean despised. He was most at home in a defensive minded game. His brother had always been the more offensive of the pair. Dean was an old-fashioned kind of defensemen. The kind that racked up the minutes. The kind you wanted on the ice while trying to kill a 5v3. Every team had at least one guy like him but in the increasingly offensive minded league, they were becoming more and more scarce.
They lost six to four. Dean had an assist and the highest plus/minus on the team but it wasn’t something he cared about. He just wanted a win. Castiel was the last one in the locker room, well after the rest of the team had headed back to the hotel.
“Rough game,” Dean offered, unsure of how exactly he was supposed to talk to a being that claimed to be an angel.
“I understand theory of the game,” Castiel said. He’d changed back into the trench coat at some point though neither Dean nor anyone else had seen it happen. “I’ve watch since its inception. I simply cannot... reconcile the differences between theory and practice.”
“If you’re going hang with us humans, you know you’re going to have to learn to play this game.”
“I know how to play this game.”
“That’s good to hear but when we get back to Lawrence, we’re going to get some practice.”
Which was how Dean found himself staying late a every practice to give Castiel pointers. He’d been a goaltender for a year in a juniors league and while he’d hated every minute of it, he’d been pretty good.
Of course, he’d been twelve at the time. Nowhere near NHL level, but good enough to know basic tactics.
Castiel had it easier then most. His vessel, Jimmy Novak was known as one of the most technically sound goaltender in the league. The muscle memory was there. It just took a while for him to teach Castiel how to use it.
But he got better.
And suddenly, before he knew it, it was the all star break. A five game break for the Winchester brothers while the league’s best gathered in Washington DC for their annual showing. The only player on the Rage with an invite was Victor Hendriksen but Andy Gallagher had been invited for the shooting accuracy part of the skills competition and Ben Braeden had been selected for the annual rookies against sophomores game.
The Winchesters had a hunt lined up for the day but even when they were on different teams, they always found a way to watch the All-Star Game together. It had been this way for as long as Dean could remember. Their own version of a holiday because NHL or not, Dean suspected neither of them would ever play in the All Star Game itself.
That didn’t matter to Dean. He was just glad to be able kick back and share a beer with his little brother.
What he didn’t expect was Castiel, quite literally appearing between the two of them at the start of the third period. “What the hell?” Dean cried, nearly spilling the half empty bottle of beer. “Dude, wear a bell or something!”
“Our presence is needed elsewhere.”
“What the hell are you---“ Sam didn’t get a chance to finish because all of a sudden the three of them were standing on the first floor of what Dean recognized as the Verizon center in Washington DC. The site of this year’s the All Star Game. Home of the Washington Capitals.
“There is a seal in danger of being broken.”
“Are we in DC?”
“The entire stadium is in danger,” Castiel said. “There is dark magic abounding tonight. I cannot---“
He disappeared midword.
“I’m going to go ahead and guess this isn’t good.”
“You got an EMF on you?”
“Dude I got nothing. I thought we were just watching the game.”
“We’re screwed, aren’t we?”
“It’s kind of looking that way.”
The arena erupted into cheers. The smattering of people wondering the concourse all tried to duck back into the arena to see the celebrations and the replay of the goal onscreen. But there was one figure who wasn’t interest in the game. A short guy wearing a baggy sweatshirt, tearing past the snack bars in his haste to get away.
Sam squinted at him. “Andy?”
Andy Gallagher skidded to a stop in front of the Winchesters. His face was pale and sweaty, his breathing coming in ragged gasps. “Sam! Dean! What are you guys doing here?”
“Came to see the game,” Dean said, cutting Sam off before he could say anything. “What happened to you? You look like you just got bulldozed.”
“There’s something going on in here,” Andy sputtered, gesticulating wildly. “There are people—with eyes—who keep.” He forced himself to stop and took a deep breath. “They’ve got Ben.”
I am SO SORRY for the delay. Hope you all had a wonderful Christmas. Next one should come a few ticks faster.
| eight |
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
31/12/09 03:23 (UTC)(no subject)
16/1/10 02:02 (UTC)(no subject)
4/1/10 19:47 (UTC)I love this series. Although I will admit to wanting a bit more Western Conference love. Angels taking over the Devils will never stop being funny though.
I love this to bits and I can't wait to see where you go with it.
(no subject)
16/1/10 02:06 (UTC)I'm glad you're liking the story. Hope it keeps up the pace.
(no subject)
25/1/10 06:35 (UTC)Hahhahahaaaaa! (Yes, I actually laughed out loud.)
“It’s like saying you can go to a petting zoo and ride a unicorn.”
I love Dean :)
“The game is not important.” // “Like hell the game isn’t important.”
Oh, Cas, that was so very not the right thing to say to Dean! (And actually, my sympathies are with Dean on this one! :) )
Dean shifted in his seat, tugging on his skates, recognizing the situation for what it was
Excellent bit of detail here.
“Win this one for Rube,” Lucas said quietly. “Even if he isn’t one of us anymore.”
Aw. :(
The only player on the Rage with an invite was Victor Hendriksen but Andy Gallagher had been invited for the shooting accuracy part of the skills competition and Ben Braeden had been selected for the annual rookies against sophomores game.
Yay for these, especially Ben :)
The Winchesters had a hunt lined up for the day but even when they were on different teams, they always found a way to watch the All-Star Game together. It had been this way for as long as Dean could remember. Their own version of a holiday because NHL or not, Dean suspected neither of them would ever play in the All Star Game itself.
I like that this is a custom they have
Andy Gallagher skidded to a stop in front of the Winchesters. His face was pale and sweaty, his breathing coming in ragged gasps. “Sam! Dean! What are you guys doing here?” // “Came to see the game,” Dean said, cutting Sam off before he could say anything. “What happened to you? You look like you just got bulldozed.” // “There’s something going on in here,” Andy sputtered, gesticulating wildly. “There are people—with eyes—who keep.” He forced himself to stop and took a deep breath. “They’ve got Ben.”
Oh the hell they've got Ben! >:[ And the people with eyes can't be a good sign either! :)
(no subject)
25/1/10 22:38 (UTC)...I feel a little bad about killing Ruby. Mainly because she once called Anna 'the Stanley cup' in cannon, making me have SO MUCH GLEE FOR HER CHARACTER. Really. That's all it took for me to make me like her. Also, it means hockey's about the only sport that's been referenced in supernatural...