sirenspull_logs | A Time of Reckoning

Entry tags:

castiel,
magneto

A Time of Reckoning

Who: Magneto |

ofthursday
When: July 15th, late morning.
Where: Sector 4, near Sector 8, not too far from the docks
Summary: Castiel warned Magneto to stay away from his friends. Magneto didn't bide that warning. Castiel isn't happy. FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!
Warnings: Violence.

Magneto had the image inducor on, and was walking along the industrial edge of Sector 4. He'd finished his work at Mercy's - or as much as he was willing to do, he wanted to be out and about right now, stretch his legs. Idly he 'kicked' a soda can around, no one paying mind to what appeared to be an older man with low level TK.

He was still slightly headachy and dehydrated from Friday, the only lingering effect of his hangover. He was distracted enough that he wasn't paying much attention to who was around, though for relaxed 'public' face he was showing, one schooled on Genosha for cameras, his shoulders were tensed, one hand fisted in his pocket, and the can was fairly thoroughly dented.

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Castiel had been having a bad few days.

A bad two, really; Friday had actually been a great time. He'd been so hesitant about going to the wedding, but it had been a strangely fun and happy event, and everything had seemed really good for awhile.

And then, the next day, Crowley left.

That night, he'd fought with Dean; he'd lost his temper, and it hadn't been pretty. Months of stress and everything he'd dealt with at the Port combined with his time at home, the war, the last meeting he'd had with Dean there... He felt terribly guilty, but at the same time it had been almost a relief.

He knew that, in turn, was wrong, and it only made him feel worse. But rather than hide in the house that was far too empty despite his small zoo and AJ, Castiel had instead taken to storming about the city in a whirlwind of restless emotions. It was there that he felt the unexpected but familiar distinctive energy, and following it in an instant of flight Castiel alighted in a rustle of feathers directly in Magneto's path. Though it didn't look anything like him to Castiel's vessel's eyes, his grace wasn't fooled, and the angel looked through the illusion to the person underneath.

"You."

Edited 2012-07-13 05:33 (UTC)

He'd felt Castiel a split second before he can into view, the soda can slamming into a near-by wall. In truth it was only his enhanced speed in terms of reflexes that prevented him from slamming into Castiel. As it was he pulled up short.

He debated for a moment acting as if he didn't know who Castiel was. As far as Castiel knew, he had died. But he hadn't ever outright lied to the angel, and given the company he kept that was likely to do nothing more than bite him in the ass. And he knew it.

"Me."

His tone wasn't hostile, but it was clipped. He didn't want to deal with this right now.

Castiel normally wasn't aggressive unless absolutely necessary. This wasn't usually, and so instead he was all tension and narrowed eyes, so still he almost seemed not to be.

"How long did you intend to pretend to be among the dead?" The question, in contrast to his body language, was calm, if a bit lower than Castiel usually spoke. He had a hold over his temper for the moment.

It's the posture that sets Magneto's teeth on edge, causing him to pull inward, power and energy coiled tightly around him like cable spooled so much onto itself that it's threatening to break. Around him the air thickens with ozone and heat, and even if his body is adapted to the oxidizing effects of it the other organic matter in the close vicinity will soon begin to suffer for it.

"As long as SERO was hunting me and the others." Magneto's own tone was calm, simple. Accepting of what was. He delays slightly, a few seconds, as he debates asking how Castiel knows he was pretending to be dead and not simply having just returned. "I'm not pretending to be dead, Castiel. I'm keeping my presence mostly hidden."

Castiel's vessel didn't move, but the angel itself unfurled a little, grace stretching out and incorporeal wings opening before folding loosely once again in a show of strength. It was little issue for him to shield his vessel from the effects of Magneto's powers, and he just tilted his head slightly at the answer.

"Indefinitely, then. I should have expected you would fake your death. I presume Jubilee has done the same."

Magneto felt Castiel puff up, caught a glimpse of wings. He wasn't attempting to harm Castiel to begin with, it was just an unintended - and uncontrollable - side effect of his powers.

"SERO pronounced, Castiel." He'd just not corrected it and Jubilee had gone with it. His eyes narrowed at the mention of Jubilee, jaw ticking. "No, she didn't." Deadpool did.

Castiel was too tense and angry to make any sort of distinction, or to be concerned with much of anything but his own temper. He watched Magneto's reaction intently, though the guise was beginning to irritate him, and with a quick stretch of his grace it was easy to locate what was producing the image. Another flash of creation and lightning and it shorted out immediately, insides melting into a mass of metal and rendering it useless.

Magneto twisted his wrist as the image inducor became useless, throwing it inside his pocket with a flick of a his arm. His under laying tension ratcheted, leaving his back in knots, and his eyes almost literally flashing.

"Problem, Castiel?"

"I tire of your hiding." He answered, voice low but eerily calm, and he watched the other with something close to a cat-like curiosity.

"I wasn't hiding from you. Why do you care in regards to anyone else?" He knew that tone, that posture. He'd had it himself, back in Brazil. But he was exposed in ways he hadn't been in a while, and that was making it difficult to keep still. Muscles twitched, even though he didn't move, his power coiled tight but pressed against the hard boundary he was holding it at, like a wild herd penned in and trying to run.

"Because I dislike cowardice." Not quite the right answer, though true. But more it was that Castiel was spiraling, again, as he always did when he felt alone and directionless, and everything that had happened that he repressed and brushed off was all coming to the forefront at once. One of those things was the unresolved conflict and betrayal in regards to Magneto and it was just combining into a furious anger. "Don't you ever tire of running from consequences?"

"It's not cowardice to keep my head down when stuck in a fishbowl with SERO on my six." His temper was wearing thin, he was tired of being accused of being a coward and a liar, and his voice sharpened, snapping.

"I'm not running Castiel. Not from you, not from "consequences". What do you want?" There was an edge to it, one he'd never taken with Castiel. A tone used back home, that would have back most down. He did have his pride - and the stress of SERO, of Jubilee, grief of Jinx and Zachariah, and so many things over the last few months where doing nothing to keep him calm.

"You have done nothing but run." Castiel snapped right back, but he wasn't even sure why he was arguing. He wasn't sure why he was fighting, or why he was doing any of this. He didn't know what he wanted, except to stop feeling as confused and turned on and pinned in and alone as he had the entire year--it had really been a year now--and he didn't know how to manage it. So he was lashing out at one of the sources, plain and simple.

"I've fought when it comes to SERO."

Finally the tension was too much for him, and he twitched, slamming a shield between him and prying eyes, a film of distortion between him and the outside world.

"And in case you decided you didn't need to pay attention? There for a while? I wasn't permitted to make decisions for myself."

Castiel's eyes flickered a moment as he felt the shield go up, but it was harmless so he paid it no mind. His eyes narrowed just a fraction though, at Magneto's last comment. "So I've heard. How stressful it must be to murder someone and be considered in the wrong for doing so."

"It wasn't. It's never really bothered me." Crowley wasn't his first murder in the Port after all. "I don't think it ever did. Not even when I was young." It bothered him when people assumed he didn't have reasons for doing what he did, but over all, he didn't care what many though of his actions, and if anything? Everything with Crowley had simply re-enforced that he owed an explanation to no one, and cared what extremely few thought of him.

No, what had been stressful was the feeling of everyone turning on him, feeling certain a mob had been gathering.

"I don't care." Castiel was rarely flippant, but it was the only response he could give. He didn't want to hear more excuses, more whining about how mean everyone was for holding Magneto accountable for what he'd done, more accusations that Castiel had overreacted and how dare he try to protect himself and his friends; the ones that were still alive, anyway.

Which lead to the other issue of the moment.

"How long have you been in contact with Mary and Chuck?"

He didn't actually expect Castiel to care, so he just ignored the flippant remark. But at the question, his posture shifted a little, shoulders more square, arms crossed over his chest, chin lifted and tilted up just a bit.

Defiant.

Rebellious.

Prideful.

He always had been. Those traits remained. Despite everything, nothing had ever manage to beat those out of him.

"I texted Mary when Sam left, we didn't speak again until she came back from the Hunt. She texted me to ask a favour. We've talked a few times since. Chuck and I? Since he came back." Because Chuck had been asking Michael about him, so he's gotten in contact with him.

Castiel just watched, unbothered by the shift of posture, utterly unafraid. The answers were not a surprise, though there was some hurt there that Chuck hadn't told him, but he pushed it aside for the moment.

"I seem to remember being merciful and not killing you, and requiring only one thing for it in return." He finally said, patiently, voice low and dangerous.

"Chuck badgered Michael to talk to me. Mary contacted me. They are adults, they can make their own choices. And as I've only texted them, I haven't gone anywhere near them." His tone matched his posture. It wasn't bravado - Castiel truly did frighten him when he was angry, in a way few seemed to understand. But he was didn't believe that he was in the wrong. And he wasn't going to kowtow to anyone.

Castiel couldn't be everywhere at once. He couldn't watch his friends at all times; he couldn't protect them when he didn't know what was going on. If they didn't have contact with Magneto, he could at least be sure they weren't being lulled into a false sense of security and friendship--or even just familiarity--only to be killed or turned on whenever it suited Magneto. And Chuck had surely simply been worried about him, because he was a good person, and Mary would reach out to almost anyone. Yes, they were adults, but they were exactly the types of his friends he was trying to protect.

"You made incredible efforts not to speak with anyone you didn't desire to after you murdered Crowley. Don't act as though you couldn't have simply ignored their attempts to contact you."

Magneto truly wouldn't ever understand why people believed he was a danger to the angels or Mary or Chuck. He wasn't. He wouldn't be. "No I didn't." A flat denial. Because he hadn't been able to talk and Michael had taken is NV away anyway. "And I don't ignore the people I care about."

He should shut up. He should attempt to leave. Or call Michael to pull him away from Castiel. He does none of it. He didn't believe things had ended as they had when Castiel and he has last met. And if he wasn't going to court Castiel out, he was tried of waiting for the other show to drop.

Threats were threats, and as far as Castiel was concerned, if Magneto attacked and killed Crowley he was a danger to everyone else. Even close friends could and would turn on each other in Castiel's world, often, more than enough for Castiel not to think there might be a double standard.

He had last seen the Winchesters at home across a ring of holy fire, after all.

He was tried of excuses, tired of trying to talk to someone he felt like was just a brick wall, someone who clearly had been nothing but lying to him ever since they first met. He's tired of having threats at every corner, at Michael and Lucifer having such a happily willing weapon for their side, of whatever it was that Castiel felt every time he remembered that he and Magneto had once been friends.

The formant streetlights over their head shattered, glass raining down, as some of Castiel's grace lashed out unintentionally. He was angry and hurt, and not just at this situation but everything else, and he was going to take at least some of it out on someone who deserved it.

As before when they had met, there was a conflict. Wanting to leave, deciding that things were too broken to fix, that it hurt to much to lose someone, and just leave so some of the hurting would stop. Wanting to stay, to try to fix it, not knowing what to say, and just stay until something figured itself out, even if it meant blood being spilled.

Ultimately, he would chose to walk away to protect himself if nothing changed but he didn't let go easily and he wasn't prepared to, not yet. He'd given too much time, too much of himself in the friendship they had to let got just yet. And if he did walk away, it didn't mean he wouldn't respond to any form of reaching out.

The shattering lights startled him, but not enough for him to outwardly flinch, but he did duck his head to shield his eyes from the falling glass. "Castiel. I-say what you are going to say. Or do." His voice was quiet, soft, resigned. He didn't know what to do, or say so he was simply handing it over. He needed to stop trying to manipulate people, and he had been trying. And right now, that meant letting Castiel lead.

Castiel just stared back, presence almost humming with tension, but not yet quite enough to move. He hated that attitude, hated everything about this, and his voice was low when he spoke. "In my world, you would be dead. I would have eliminated the threat you pose months ago when we spoke on the roof. I'm having difficulty remembering why I decided to show you mercy when you refuse to do the one thing I asked of you."

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God I love Cas' face.

It is quite lovely~

It is.

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