bakerstreet | ʙᴏᴛʜ ɪɴ ʜᴇʟʟ

ʙᴏᴛʜ ɪɴ ʜᴇʟʟ

Of all the places in this world, there's nowhere worse you could be than where you are now. You're in hell - metaphorically or literally - and laying down and just dying seems more and more like the valid action to take. But you can't go any lower and death could be a no escape. There's only one thing keeping you from being a jaded, broken husk: you've fallen in love with someone who shares this fate. It's a love so different than the norm, that only those who've known this desolation can fathom. Perhaps they give you hope, they're an innocent worth keeping safe, they showed you unexpected kindness, or they're simply something to cling to. No matter what, you'll protect them and you wouldn't dream of leaving this place without them. They will leave, though...

...even if you don't.

☣ ＣＯＭＭＥＮＴ．ＩＮＦＯ．ＰＲＥＦＥＲＥＮＣＥＳ．
☣ ＲＥＰＬＹＴＯＯＴＨＥＲＳ．
☣ ＴＨＲＥＡＤ.

ＣＡＰＴＵＲＥＤ → For a crime you committed or not, you're in a prison.
ＶＡＬＵＥ → Something about you is worth quite a deal to the wrong person.
ＳＣＩＥＮＴＩＦＩＣ → You're nothing but an experiment, a lab rat.
ＰＥＲＳＥＣＵＴＥＤ → Your mistreatment is not because of what you've done. It's for who you are.
ＦＲＥＡＫＳＨＯＷ → All of your oddities are on display for the amusement of others.
ＦＯＲＣＥ → You have to do horrible things, though not of your own will or design.
ＲＡＣＫ → There's not just isolation or imprisonment on your plate - there's physical torture as well.
ＢＲＩＭＳＴＯＮＥ → "Hell" is no hyperbole; you're in the fiery pit itself.
ＷＩＬＤＣＡＲＤ

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[Balthazar does occasionally go back on his word, but in this case he intends to keep it, if for no other reason than that Cas is at stake, too. He reaches his free hand to grip his brother's sleeve for stability, and then laughs.]

Oh, Cas! Yes. I concur.

[Atropos is tempted to ask what they're going on about, but thinks better of it. The sooner she drops them off, the better. So, with a roll of her eyes, she unfreezes the scene around them and abruptly yanks them through space.

It's not like angel-flight. It's more like being dragged at high speed through a spider's web. They can see the golden threads flick around them, lashing across bare wings, tickling vessels' skin. It's a strange, unpleasant sensation, but it's brief.

She deposits them unceremoniously on a sandy beach. It's dawn, and the sky is just lightening from grey-violet to vivid pink around the edges.]

There. [Releasing them both, she dusts off her hands.] You're on your own from here, but I'll be watching you.

[There's no doubt which method of travel Castiel prefers, and he has to resist the urge to wipe away the lingering sensations of the golden threads against his skin once they're back on the ground. Still, it's fast, and they're free, and that's the important part.

He gives Atropos a nod as they're released.] Thank you.

[Atropos eyes them both for a moment before speaking:] Don't forget our agreement.

[As soon as she's gone, Castiel starts drawing sigils in the sand to ward off any angels or demons who may come looking for them; high enough to be safe from the waves washing up on the beach. Once they're protected, he'll leave Balthazar to go get them their alcohol. He glances in his brother's direction, looking as serious as ever.] She's watching us. I hope she enjoys watching us both get very, very drunk.

[Balthazar, too, mutters a thanks, but it's distracted because he's looking around their landing zone now. Even in the low light, angel eyes can see all the details around them, and it's quite beautiful. Few places in the world have such clear water any more.

He glances briefly after Atropos, then shakes himself slightly and refocuses on Castiel. He looks a bit better, he thinks. Less strained and pale, if no less serious. Still, they both need time to recover.

And then Castiel makes his deadpan observation, and it all strikes Balthazar as such tremendous, silly relief that he bursts out laughing. Staggering to his feet, he reaches for Cas and pulls him into an unsteady hug.] Well, either way, we'll enjoy watching us get drunk.

[Castiel's first reaction is to strain against the embrace to check his handiwork with the wards. Their entire escape will be for nothing if they're discovered, after all. It's only for a brief moment, though, then he's wrapping his arms around Balthazar in return, letting his chin rest on his shoulder.] We'll be all right now.

[He takes his first real look at their surroundings; the clear water, the almost white sand, the sun peeking through the clouds just at the horizon, casting pale pink light through the sky. It seems like the perfect place for recuperation from their ordeal.]

Once the sun is up, I will go find a liquor store.

Edited 2015-06-12 11:09 (UTC)

[It's a strangely characteristic interaction between them, with Balthazar caught up in the moment and clinging to his brother, and Castiel struggling to handle the task at hand before allowing himself to respond. Balthazar laughs again, more gently, and relaxes into the embrace when Cas does. His wings, ragged though they are, unfold and refold, wrapped half around them.]

Your choice of venue is brilliant, you know. It's beautiful.

Are you sure you want to go off alone? I'm tired, but I'm sure I'm no worse for wear than you are. [And he's slightly afraid of what happens if Castiel leaves and doesn't come back. How will he find him again? What if he gets caught?]

[Castiel's wings stretch out and back and he gives them a shake, trying to dislodge a couple more loose feathers. He wraps them the rest of way around them both, letting his wings rest against Balthazar's.]

It's quiet, and peaceful, and we should remain undisturbed here. All things I think we both could benefit from for now.

[He adjusts his arms around Balthazar so he can smooth one of his brother's errant feathers back into place. He isn't sure whether he would rather Balthazar stay put, where the wards drawn in the sand can protect him or come along to the liquor store so neither one of them is out of sight.]

If you want to come with me, I won't argue.

[Oh. The touch of wings to wings is an intimacy he hasn't shared with any angel in quite a while, and most definitely one he prefers to share with Castiel over any other sibling. Balthazar shivers and tilts his head against Castiel's as his feathers are smoothed, uttering a quiet little 'oof' of contentment.]

That feels nice. Let's do more of this, too, please? [He clings for another moment, then backs off just a little.] But liquor first. We made a plan, we should follow through.

I'd like to come along. I don't...want you to go too far without me yet.

[It's a tender moment between them that Castiel isn't sure he wants to end. But they did have a plan, and he made a promise that he has ever intention of following through on.]

Yes, I agree. On both points, actually. [He takes an extra moment to straighten out a couple more feathers before backing off as well.]

It's probably best if we stay together. I'm sure word of our escape has already reached Raphael. [He can't help looking satisfied, thinking about how angry their older brother likely is at his demon guards.]

[Balthazar would definitely prefer it didn't end, but since it sounds like they're on vacation for the foreseeable future, he thinks he can bear a brief pause. Hopefully Cas is prepared to have his wings preened while they're both sloshed, because it's happening.]

Oh, Cassi. You look like you've just pulled off the prank of a lifetime. Smug is charming on you.

[He places a hand on his arm and stretches his own wings.] Chicago? I know a large store there, and I think it will have just closed for the night, so we can do our shopping in peace.

[A good preening is probably in order for both of them, given the state of their wings, so Castiel will gladly reciprocate.]

It was your plan that allowed us to escape, so I have to give you most of the credit. I was just thinking about how furious Raphael must be with his new allies. Depending on what he believes, we may not have to do very much to ensure he and Crowley don't remain friendly for long.

Chicago? [He nods in agreement.] All right, if you already know a store you'd like to visit.

Does that mean I get to look smug, too? [He grins, obviously delighted. This kind of praise from Cas isn't an everyday occurrence.]

I hope you're right. Crowley might find some way to weasel out of the blame, I suppose, but if our escape doesn't split up the unholy alliance, we can always finish the job.

[Balthazar tilts his head into the wind for a moment, judging the distance to his goal, then takes flight, leaving his hand on Castiel's arm to keep them together. It's brief, as angel flight typically is, and they land in the store. It's very large, with enough liquor to choke an angel (theoretically), and Balthazar makes a beeline for the brandy.] Do you have any preferences as to what you drink, Cassi? I mean, enough of anything alcoholic will get you drunk, but I like to savor a bit on the way.

Given how few escapes there have been from Heaven's prison, I believe we have every reason to be smug. [And of course by few, Castiel means to the best of his knowledge, they're the first to ever pull it off.] If it doesn't split them up, it should at least drive in a significant wedge. We can figure out how to use that to our advantage later.

[He lets Balthazar guide them to the liquor store, looking around once they land. He's on alert for any sign of either angels or demons, and starts browsing the shelves with mild interest as Balthazar heads for the brandy.] It doesn't particularly matter to me. Get whatever you like.

[He picks up a skull shaped bottle, peering at it curiously.] People honestly find this sort of thing attractive?

[Balthazar continues to grin, thrilled. Maybe it's the euphoria of newly-obtained freedom, or maybe it's the fact that he's on an outing with Castiel for no reason other than enjoyment. He's...less alert for trouble, caught up in the moment.

When Cas is around, he can afford to be less than businesslike.]

Brandy, champagne, scotch, bourbon, port. In that order. Bourbon seems to hit the hardest when I'm actually looking for a buzz. Mm...Remy Martin VSOP. That will do for a start. If you like sweets, you should try apple brandy.

[He nabs a basket and sets a couple bottles in the bottom, then comes back over to peer at the bottle that's caught Castiel's interest.] Humans are strangely narcissistic when it comes to sustaining their metabolic functions. I'm sure they find a skull bottle fascinating.

You know, when I first Fell, I hid out in a motel near a theme park for a month or so. One of the snack bars had an ice cream sundae that was designed to look like a clown's head. Candies for eyes, cherry nose, upside-down cone for a hat. I thought it was a bit horrifying; a bit like implied cannibalism.

All right. Let's get some apple brandy as well, then.

[Castiel watches Balthazar as he shops, clearly pleased by the grinning and how at ease his brother seems already. He is still on alert, though, prepared to whisk them both back off to the atoll at the slightest sign that someone may be coming. Even a mouse scampering off in search of food earns itself a glare.

He sets the bottle back on the shelf, eyebrows knitting together as he listens to Balthazar's description of the clown sundae.] That sounds very disturbing. Why would anyone want to eat a clown? Perhaps this is why some people develop a fear of them.

[Balthazar couldn't ask for a more vigilant protector, and he knows it. There's not much difference in age between him and Castiel, not for angels, but times like this he feels very much like the coddled younger sibling. Secretly, he loves that.

But he has a role, too, and it's to get Cas to loosen up and enjoy himself. Within safe parameters. Balthazar gathers bottles of the liquor he knows he likes best, and the liquor he thinks Cas will enjoy most, stacking them in his basket. Champagne is next, preferably Dom Perignon, but he won't be picky about the year.

Smiling, he nods at Castiel as he moves down the aisle.]

That's more or less what I thought. But I kept passing it every day and watching parents buy them for their children, and I thought 'what the hell?'. So I got one, and I ate it. It actually tasted quite nice. Sweet.

Mind you, I still don't understand the point, but I'd eat it again.

[They compliment each other well this way, Balthazar and Castiel. He minds a lot less than he lets on sometimes, Balthazar's attempts to get him to lighten up. Usually he lets it show by giving in.

He follows Balthazar down the aisle to the champagne, looking over their options. It's probably a good thing he didn't come alone. He would have returned with a hodgepodge of anything he could have laid his hands on quickly without really considering brands or years.]

I can honestly say I have never felt the compulsion to eat an ice cream clown. I would have thought children, particularly, would be bothered by eating something with eyes - even candy ones.

You'd think that, wouldn't you? But as it turns out, children are terrifying little monsters who think dismemberment is hilarious because they have no concept of death yet.

[How he obtained this information on human children, Balthazar is not volunteering. Maybe he tried to babysit or something.

He pulls a bottle off the shelf, looks it over, then puts it back and selects another.] But anyway, a lot of human foods are like that. What they look like, the color and texture and composition, somehow matter as much as the nutritional value, or more. Imagine having so much creative energy as a species that you can waste it making ice cream clowns.

I'm a bit envious in that respect.

I can understand a human desire for food to look appealing. I suppose if they weren't at least attracted to certain colours or textures, it could lead to eating food that has spoiled.

[Castiel watches over Balthazar's shoulder as he picks over the bottles.]

Ice cream clowns are still strange. And disturbing.

[Balthazar laughs, grinning back at Castiel, and places a couple bottles of champagne in his arms.] Well, I didn't say they were the pinnacle of human achievement. If it makes you feel any better, they more or less just taste like ice cream.

I think we've got enough, do you? We may not end up truly drunk out of our minds from it, but it's plenty for a night of enjoying ourselves on a tropical island.

[Castiel tilts his head slightly.] What else would it taste like?

[He transfers the two bottles to one arm, and looks over Balthazar's choices, before nodding.] This should be enough, at least for now. We shouldn't stay here much longer anyway, considering it isn't warded, so we aren't hidden from Raphael and his followers.

One would think a clown would taste funny. [Ba-dum-tish! Balthazar has never gotten over his love of puns.

He pauses to give Castiel a long, thoughtful, warm look. It's been a while since he was able to get his brother to stop and smell the roses, so to speak. Maybe, as terrible as their imprisonment was, it was worth it if this has come out of it.

Assuming, of course, they can survive to win this war.

Drawing closer to Cas, he wraps a wing around him and nods.] I'm ready if you are, then. Take us back? And then we'll begin celebrating.

A clown would - [Sigh.] That's terrible. [Except it's clear from his tone he doesn't really think so.

This is the first time since reconnecting with Balthazar that Castiel's really allowed himself to be distracted for any significant length of time. He couldn't afford it, not while trying to wage a war against a far more powerful older brother to try to save the world a second time. Now it's clear that they can't afford not to, even though he does feel a twinge of guilt at not immediately trying to pull together whatever remains of the rebels still loyal to him.

He leans into the embrace of Balthazar's wing briefly and nods.] All right. Let's go back, then.

[His wings flare out and he wraps an arm around Balthazar before taking flight. It's as brief as it always is, and they're back at the island. The sun has finished rising and most of the clouds are dissipating. Castiel steps away from Balthazar to check the wards again, since they're only drawn in sand.]

[Balthazar beams at that response. A sigh of resignation and a pretense of disapproval from Cas in this context is as good as laughter. Or maybe Balthazar just doesn't require much encouragement.

He leans into the arm around him as they land. One thing the captivity gave him is plenty of opportunity to be physically close to his beloved brother. They're free now, and he's more than glad of it, but maybe they can continue the familiarity of close contact at least a bit longer...

When Cas steps away, he follows like a puppy.] Champagne first?

That sounds like an appropriate way to celebrate.

[Castiel looks around and picks a spot high up on the beach to sit down. He sets one bottle in the sand beside him and peels the foil off the first, working at popping the cork off. Wordlessly, he extends a wing in invitation for Balthazar to join him.]

I'm so glad you approve, since we've gone to all this trouble. [He's teasing now, prodding verbally because that's just how Balthazar is, it's almost like he doesn't know any other way to interact with the people he cares for.

Castiel can deadpan and headtilt and express feigned or real misunderstanding of figures of speech if he needs to dodge intimacy, even with angels. Balthazar uses jokes to say what he has to say without tipping his hand. Of course, now they're alone and they have time and there's less cause to be defensive. When Castiel extends a wing, Balthazar pauses for a split second, then drops down on the sand next to him and slinks in close under that feathered embrace, curling his own wings around his brother and nestling vessels close enough that there's barely space for air between them.

Oh, yes. There. He needed that way more than he needed liquor.]

Ideally...mm. Champagne is meant to be served chilled, but I think we'll enjoy it regardless.

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