Chapter Text
Tony grimaced and tried to shift his position on the chair. It was getting difficult to keep from talking; whatever Saleem Ulman had used as a truth serum might not make him actually tell the truth, but it did make him want to talk even more than he usually did.
He watched as Saleem took another drink from the canteen, and his eyes narrowed as he caught the familiar red hue of the liquid clinging to Saleem’s chin before he brushed it off.
Saleem looked up and caught Tony’s gaze; the man smiled. “Are you ready to tell me all you know?”
Tony shook his head, took a deep breath, and despite telling himself not to give in, began speaking. “Gotta tell ya’, Saleem, my man, it would take a really, really long time to tell you all I know. We could start with Oscar nominations since the awards began - that would be pretty cool, actually. I don’t suppose you’d be able to get a DVD player and a big flatscreen in here, would you? We could watch together. I’m great at running commentary.”
Looking expectantly at Saleem, Tony waited for the man to answer. But Saleem simply stood there, looking down at his canteen.
“Caf-Pow addict, huh? I know one of those.”
Saleem didn’t move. Tony blinked a few times, stretched his neck, and looked at him carefully. Saleem seemed frozen in the act of screwing the top back on the canteen. Tony stared.
“Hey! Sa-le-em! Hello?” Tony cleared his throat and tried to moisten his dry lips. “Not really nice of you to ignore me like this. What do you think I am, some sort of cheap date?”
Between one fraction of a moment and the next, there was a man standing behind the chair facing Tony where there had been no man before. Dark hair, serious expression, wearing a trench coat and tie, holding something that vaguely resembled a big toy sword.
Tony gaped at him. “Where did you come from? And who the hell are you?”
The man stood quietly, gazing thoughtfully at Tony. “I am Castiel.” His voice was low, gravelly.
Tony’s brow furrowed. “I don’t think that helps.” He gestured toward the frozen Saleem with his chin. “Did you do that?”
Castiel nodded. “I did.”
“Why? How?”
Castiel stepped over McGee's prone and apparently also frozen body, walked to Saleem, and stood in front of him, a little too close, studying him intensely. Tony got a good look at the sword and decided the pointy end looked much too sharp to be a toy.
Still looking curiously at Saleem, Castiel spoke. “As to how, you would not understand. The why…” Castiel turned and looked at Tony, who suddenly felt uncomfortably exposed. “You are tied to a chair. I thought it prudent.”
“Um, okay, cool. You know, you don’t seem to be from around here.”
“I’m not.”
Tony waited, but Castiel remained silent, so he sighed loudly. “Tough nut, huh? You’re not exactly dressed for the desert, you know?”
Castiel cocked his head to one side, clearly noting how Tony was tied to the chair. He looked down at the floor and up at the ceiling, then back at Tony. “These clothes suit my vessel. But you are correct, I am not from around here. And you are not a demon.”
Tony let out a surprised bark of laughter. “Well now, some women have said I’m a demon in the sack, but I’m guessing that’s not what you meant. And why would you even go there?”
Castiel shook his head slowly, his attention divided between Tony and the rest of the room. “There are no sacks in this room, and it would be very difficult to put most demons into one. Perhaps some of the lesser imps… but even then you would need sacks made of special material.” He refocused on Tony. “I assume when you ask why I would ‘go there’ you meant why I would think you might be a demon. I say that you aren’t a demon because there are no sigils or glyphs on the floor or ceiling to trap a demon, so nothing would be keeping you here if you were one.”
“This is crazy.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m looking at a frozen terrorist and my friend over there also seems to be frozen and you’re talking about demons and I’m trying to decide whether I’m in Wonderland or the Twilight Zone. Who the hell are you?”
Castiel sighed and his shoulders slumped slightly. “I fail to understand why so many humans require repeated assertions.”
“Maybe because you aren’t actually explaining anything?”
Castiel’s stare intensified and turned slightly hostile. For some reason that made Tony nervous. “Um, look, I should probably tell you that the frozen Saleemsicle over there injected me with some drug that makes me talk a lot, and maybe I’m saying more than I really should…” His voice trailed off as Castiel’s expression shifted from hostile to concerned. Castiel moved quickly to stand next to Tony, then gently laid the palm of his hand on Tony’s head. Tony felt cold, then warm, and then the urge to talk was gone.
As Castiel stepped back, the ropes binding Tony to the chair fell to the floor. Tony stared at them, then at Saleem, then at McGee, then back at Castiel. “Whaa - how?”
Castiel straightened slightly. “I am an Angel of the Lord.”
Tony blinked.
Castiel held up the not-toy sword. “This is my Angel Blade,” he added. He paused for a moment, considered Tony, then sighed. “Which I suppose is not needed at this time.” He stashed the blade in his trenchcoat.
Clearing his throat, Tony nodded fervently. “That’s right, not needed here.” He looked down at the rope burns on his wrist, flexing the joints and wincing. Taking a deep breath, he looked back up at Castiel. “Okay, Clarence, let’s suppose you really are an angel.”
Brow furrowed, Castiel stood with his arms at his sides. “I’m not Clarence. I told you, my name is Castiel.” Suddenly he smiled, which Tony decided looked wrong. “You’re referring to a movie. I believe… yes, It’s a Wonderful Life. Dean made me watch it.”
“Uh… Dean?”
“Dean Winchester. He is my… well. I’m not sure what exactly Dean is. Things have been confusing since the Apocalypse.”
“Apocalypse…?” Tony held up a hand, stopping Castiel before he could start not-really-explaining. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.” Glancing cautiously at Castiel, Tony stretched his limbs, then levered himself up off the chair and moved on shaky legs to check on McGee. “He’s not breathing!”
Then Castiel was next to him, reaching out a hand to grip Tony’s arm. There was that cold-then-warm feeling again, and Tony felt as strong and refreshed as if he’d just gotten a good eight hours of sleep in a comfortable bed. He stared at Castiel in confusion.
“Your friend is fine,” the angel assured him. “I took us out of time. We’re between one moment and the next, and can stay here as long as is needed.”
Tony stared at Castiel for a long moment, then looked down at his wrists. The rope burns were gone. “Wow.” He looked back at Castiel. “Thanks… but I gotta ask… why are you here?”
Castiel stared at him, and for the first time appeared uncertain. “I’m not really sure.”
“You’re in the middle of a terrorist camp in a desert in Somalia and you’re not sure why?”
Uncertainty turned to embarrassment. “I was… sent. Here. To you, or for you. I pulled my blade because, well, Dean and Sam often tie demons to chairs, so it was reasonable to assume you were a demon, in which case it was possible I was sent to kill you.”
Tony leaned away from Castiel, then stopped himself. “Sam? Never mind.” He cleared his throat. “You could just be a drug-induced hallucination,” he suggested.
The angel frowned slightly. “I have removed the drugs from your system. If I were a drug-induced hallucination, I shouldn’t be here.”
Tony sighed. “Well, I was sorta hoping…”
Castiel stepped closer to him, and Tony was startled to realize the intensity of the angel’s presence had masked his shorter height. “You’re not as tall as I thought.”
“In my true form, I would squash you like a bug with my pinky toe… if my true form had toes.” Castiel sighed. “I don’t know why I was sent to you, but I think we should go.”
“Go? You mean, leave here? That would be great, but we should take McGee… and I have to figure out how to explain all this to Gibbs.”
Castiel shook his head. “There will be no need to explain anything to anyone. I don’t know why I’m here, but I do know you’re the reason.” He cocked his head to one side. “Where are you from?”
“Originally? Not worth mentioning. Currently? Washington DC.”
“Then we will start there. Brace yourself.” Castiel reached a hand toward Tony’s head, but Tony stepped back.
“Whoa, wait a second. What are you going to do? Zap us from Somalia to D.C.? You can’t just zap us to the other side of the planet!”
Castiel’s brow furrowed. “Why not?”
Tony gaped at him. “What about McGee? And Gibbs?”
“Gibbs?”
“Gibbs is our team leader… my, um, my boss. He’s somewhere out there in a sniper’s nest,waiting to take out Saleem over there.” Tony gestured toward the frozen terrorist.
“Ah.” Castiel seemed to think for a moment, then shrugged. “They will be fine. After I discover why I was sent to you, and do what needs to be done, I’ll return you to your proper time and place. It will be as if no time has passed.”
Tony stared at Castiel, who stared back. “That will be because no time will have passed,” the angel added helpfully, as he stretched out his hand and the world vanished.