Chapter Text
“Dean.”
Dean Winchester, legendary hunter of the supernatural and currently the most feared mortal in hell, yelped in surprise and rolled rather ungracefully out of his motel bed at the sound of Castiel’s voice. In the other bed, Sam had already pulled out a pistol on reflex, looked around sleepily but still mildly alarmed, and then seemed to slump back into his pillow to sleep for just a few more seconds once he realized who the intruder was.
“C’mon, Cas,” Dean groaned from the cheap carpet floor, “You couldn’t have knocked first?”
Castiel tilted his head inquisitively to the side. “I suppose I can do that now, if you’d like.”
“Forget it. Save it for next time. I’m guessing this isn’t a social visit, considering it’s—“ Dean climbed back up onto his bed and glanced at the digital clock on the motel’s plywood desk, “fuckin’ four in the morning?”
“No, it’s not,” Castiel confirmed. “I need your help.”
Sam, his interest finally winning over his tiredness, sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes, a mop of brown hair sticking in all directions from his head. “A job? Is something going on with the entrance to hell? It should still be closed for at least a few millennia, right?”
“Please don’t tell me you guys are having issues with that thing again,” Dean said. “Or is this a heaven thing?”
“An enemy has recently resurfaced,” Castiel said, “something that hasn’t been seen since the nineteenth century. We don’t have enough information on it to properly contain it.”
“Yeah?” Dean said, “You’ve been around forever. How come you don’t know about it? Can’t you just, I dunno, zap back in time and check it out?”
“I cannot.”
“What kind of creature is it?” Sam asked, pulling out his laptop. “Is it really something we haven’t seen before?”
Castiel turned his attention to Sam. “They are a rogue grim reaper who has not been seen in over a century. This reaper defected from Death’s service sometime in the eighteenth century, and only reemerged in the late nineteenth century before disappearing again until now. They are fascinated with the reanimation of corpses, or ‘life after death.’ Heaven is concerned because the souls of the corpses are disappearing, instead of going to either heaven or hell as they should.”
“We’ve seen reapers before, though,” Dean argued.
“The ‘reanimated corpse’ part is new,” Sam said. “And something tells me a rogue reaper doesn’t exactly play by Death’s rules, either. But that still doesn’t answer why you can’t just go back and gather info yourself, Cas.”
Castiel sighed. “At the same time this grim reaper was showing itself last, one of the most powerful contract demons of the time was nearing the height of his power. The reaper existed in his domain, and it would be too dangerous for an angel who wasn’t bound to the Queen to enter there.”
“Bound to the Queen? Like, Queen Victoria? Can angels even do that?” Sam asked, fascinated by this new bit of knowledge.
“Back then,” Cas said, “It wasn’t unheard of for lesser angels to work alongside powerful rulers. The late nineteenth century was teeming with supernatural phenomena, so angels were used to keep the balance.”
“So, what,” Dean said, returning to the job Castiel apparently had for them, “you want us to go backwards a century or two and gank this demon so you guys can snoop around on the reaper? Or do we go straight at the reaper?”
“Neither of those,” Cas replied seriously. “In that time, the demon is currently contracted, so he won’t harm you unless his master orders him to. He would kill you if you took him on yourselves. The reaper is also too dangerous to face, and its disguise is unknown to us. Your job is to figure out who they are, and possibly how to differentiate between the reanimated corpses and living beings before they begin attacking. I’ve already contacted an angel from that time in the queen’s service, so you will not be hindered by the government, at least.”
Sam looked intrigued, a thoughtful expression on his face. “What do you think, Dean?”
“I dunno,” Dean said. “Traveling back in time won’t mess anything up, will it? How do we know we’re not gonna do something like prevent our great-grandparents from hookin’ up?”
“Every other time we’ve done this has resulted in a stable time loop,” Sam pointed out. “I don’t see why this would be any different.”
Dean hummed. “That’s true, I guess. You up for it, then, Sammy? It’s been pretty quiet around here lately.”
“Are you kidding? A chance to scope out the supernatural underworld of nineteenth century England? Dean, this is literally an entirely undocumented side of history to explore!”
“Yeah, yeah, we get it, you’re a huge nerd. Alrighty, then, I guess it’s decided— where’re you sendin’ us this time, Cas?”
“For tea today, we will be serving tea steeped with fermented Ti Kuan Yin leaves, courtesy of Master Lao, accompanied by boccone dolce to offset the otherwise robust flavor. The boccone dolce, you will notice, contains fresh, uncooked fruits; they will be beneficial to your health, young master. Enjoy.”
Ciel narrowed his eyes at his butler, who merely smiled serenely and set the tray down on his master’s writing desk. Nevertheless, the young earl did not hesitate to sip his tea and take his first small bite of cake. “Tell Lao that I thank him, but that bribes of tea won’t convince me to fund whatever project he’s gotten himself wrapped up in now.”
“He assures you that it is merely a gift. Also, you will be pleased to note that a letter from the Queen has arrived.” Sebastian turned and scooped up a second tray from the table by the door to the study, placing the tray with its letter and knife beside the afternoon snack.
Ciel, looking rather more annoyed than pleased, set down his fork and sliced open the envelope. His missions lately had involved more traveling than he would have liked, and he hoped this one wouldn’t be more of the same.
Be careful what you wish for, he thought bitterly as he read the letter. “It seems we’re to have guests,” he announced, handing the letter back to Sebastian for him to read over.
“Americans,” Sebastian added as he skimmed through the text, raising a wry brow. “Brothers, it seems, who run in the same circles you do, young master. How interesting.”
Ciel nearly grinned despite himself at the sight of Sebastian’s wolfish smile. “Now, now, Sebastian. They’re associates of the Queen; do try to be civil.”
“They will, of course, receive the highest standard of care during their visit, my lord, just as all guests of the Phantomhive Manor do. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe there are preparations to be made.” And with that, Sebastian bowed and left, leaving Ciel to finish his tea.
He was not overly fond of guests, but Ciel supposed that this ought to be entertaining, at least.