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<lj-cut>"Listeners, the mayor held a press conference this morning to warn that all citizens of Night Vale should avoid contact with the two strange men who arrived in our little hamlet last night. Do not approach the men in the shiny black car. Do not look at them. Do not speak to them. If they approach you, run, and wait inside your home until a representative from the Sheriff’s Secret Police paints the appropriate warding charms on your front door." Cecil paused and sipped his yerba mate. "Listeners, I must stress how important it is to follow these instructions. You see, this morning while I was having breakfast with Carlos at our condo — I don’t actually live there with him yet, but I hope to soon. And that leads me to a request. If any of you out there happen to have on hand just about, oh, 7.3 grams of wolfsbane mixed with the ground up fingerbone of a Librarian, could you pop by the station and allow me to buy it off of you? It’s the final ingredient I need for the ritual to break the lease on my apartment. And wouldn’t you know, I’ve tried to order it from Amazon and it’s never arrived. Customer service says they’ve sent three drivers to deliver it, and none of them were ever seen or heard from again."
"Now, as I was saying, citizens, while I was having breakfast with Carlos in the newly remodeled kitchen — and oh, how that tile backsplash looks perfect with the paint we purchased at Night Vale Hard Days and Hard Ware — he informed me that the legend of the two strangers is know far and wide, in many places. And isn’t it cute how he continues to insist there are other places? He told me, listeners, that death and destruction follow wherever the brothers Winchester appear. Since we’ve only just gotten the sewers working properly again after the Night Vale Christmas Parade and Hooded Figure Jubilee, I don’t know about you, but I think I’d like a little quiet until the Secret Policeman’s Ball next week. These Winchesters can just skedaddle on out of here and bring their brand of trouble to Desert Bluffs. We, the citizens of Night Vale, can handle our own death and destruction just fine. And now, the weather."
Cecil pushed the button on the reel to reel and music filled the booth with sound, color, sparks, and the faint scent of moldering leaves. He sipped from his mug again and spun in his chair to face the once-angel standing in the corner of his booth.
"Castiel," he said, and pushed his glasses up on his nose. "How did you get past Station Management?"
Castiel opened his hand to reveal a handful of Pennyroyal, a torn and bloodied piece of yellow cloth, and the tooth of an animal that had long ago crossed the Rainbow Bridge. “I have not forgotten the ways of your people, Cecil. Though you have lived among the humans for so long that you carry their scent now. It was difficult to find you.”
"One has to have just the right combination of yearning and desperation in one’s heart to find the way to Night Vale," Cecil replied. "Carlos, that’s my boyfriend, he’s a scientist, told me that this morning old woman Josie was heard to announce that Dean Winchester was so handsome that he could leave his boots on her porch anytime, and that the angels immediately surrounded her house and took up arms. I knew you couldn’t be far behind."
"I need your help, Cecil," Castiel replied. He took a step forward. "Metraton, he’s — Heaven — I need to find your brother."
"Ah," Cecil said, and sighed, and the taste of the music of the weather was bittersweet on his tongue. "I can no longer see or speak to my brother. You see, I have fulfilled the prophecy, Castiel. I have pledged my troth to a human. I was happy to do it. Carlos is perfect, and beautiful, and we bought a condominium together. But the union was not without sacrifice. All acts of love and pleasure require pain and blood to keep the balance. My brother is lost to me, and I am of no help to you now, old friend. I can never leave Night Vale again."
"That’s convenient for you," Castiel replied, and referred to the other man by a name that he couldn’t quite pronounce with his human speech capabilities. "Night Vale will still be here once all of Heaven and Hell have been laid to waste, and the Earth will be nothing but a dim memory in the minds of the Ancient Ones."
Cecil held up his hand. “Do not speak their names, it is forbidden, by order directly from the Mayor herself.”
"Now, as I was saying, citizens, while I was having breakfast with Carlos in the newly remodeled kitchen — and oh, how that tile backsplash looks perfect with the paint we purchased at Night Vale Hard Days and Hard Ware — he informed me that the legend of the two strangers is know far and wide, in many places. And isn’t it cute how he continues to insist there are other places? He told me, listeners, that death and destruction follow wherever the brothers Winchester appear. Since we’ve only just gotten the sewers working properly again after the Night Vale Christmas Parade and Hooded Figure Jubilee, I don’t know about you, but I think I’d like a little quiet until the Secret Policeman’s Ball next week. These Winchesters can just skedaddle on out of here and bring their brand of trouble to Desert Bluffs. We, the citizens of Night Vale, can handle our own death and destruction just fine. And now, the weather."
Cecil pushed the button on the reel to reel and music filled the booth with sound, color, sparks, and the faint scent of moldering leaves. He sipped from his mug again and spun in his chair to face the once-angel standing in the corner of his booth.
"Castiel," he said, and pushed his glasses up on his nose. "How did you get past Station Management?"
Castiel opened his hand to reveal a handful of Pennyroyal, a torn and bloodied piece of yellow cloth, and the tooth of an animal that had long ago crossed the Rainbow Bridge. “I have not forgotten the ways of your people, Cecil. Though you have lived among the humans for so long that you carry their scent now. It was difficult to find you.”
"One has to have just the right combination of yearning and desperation in one’s heart to find the way to Night Vale," Cecil replied. "Carlos, that’s my boyfriend, he’s a scientist, told me that this morning old woman Josie was heard to announce that Dean Winchester was so handsome that he could leave his boots on her porch anytime, and that the angels immediately surrounded her house and took up arms. I knew you couldn’t be far behind."
"I need your help, Cecil," Castiel replied. He took a step forward. "Metraton, he’s — Heaven — I need to find your brother."
"Ah," Cecil said, and sighed, and the taste of the music of the weather was bittersweet on his tongue. "I can no longer see or speak to my brother. You see, I have fulfilled the prophecy, Castiel. I have pledged my troth to a human. I was happy to do it. Carlos is perfect, and beautiful, and we bought a condominium together. But the union was not without sacrifice. All acts of love and pleasure require pain and blood to keep the balance. My brother is lost to me, and I am of no help to you now, old friend. I can never leave Night Vale again."
"That’s convenient for you," Castiel replied, and referred to the other man by a name that he couldn’t quite pronounce with his human speech capabilities. "Night Vale will still be here once all of Heaven and Hell have been laid to waste, and the Earth will be nothing but a dim memory in the minds of the Ancient Ones."
Cecil held up his hand. “Do not speak their names, it is forbidden, by order directly from the Mayor herself.”