Fanwork Friday this week is the characters in a different time period:

Of course he was about to be burned at the stake as a witch. Owen surveyed the crowd dispassionately and tested the rope tying his hands. Damn Middle Ages. Heaven forbid a doctor might try to cure somebody. Bloody rift, dropping him here. At least it wasn’t in some far corner of the galaxy. Though, maybe he wouldn’t be about to set on fire there.

A man brandished a torch, shouting something in what wasn’t quite the English he was used to. But he sounded like a complete wanker.

There was the sound of wings and he found a dark haired man standing in front of him, facing the crowd. The crowd muttered and fell back.

“Do not harm this man,” his voice was low and dangerous. He repeated it again in the local tongue.

The one with a torch stepped forward, shouting more. Owen rolled his eyes. The stranger put out his hand and he dropped the torch, jumping back and shouting more, looking at the crowd, then at the stranger. The crowd started to retreat faster.

He drew himself up as if spreading wings and gave a command.

The crowd broke and ran.

“Not that I’m not grateful, but who the hell are you?” asked Owen as he slowly turned around.

“Castiel,” he said freeing him. “Jack asked me to retrieve you.”

Owen rubbed his wrists. “How? You with the Doctor or something?”

Castiel touched his head where he’d been hit and it instantly healed. “I am an Angel of the Lord.”

“Right, of course Jack knows a literal angel,” said Owen sarcastically.

Castiel gave him a weary look and took his arm.

They reappeared in a patch of primeval forest. Owen blinked. “Okay, that was different.”

“I don’t yet have enough energy to get us back to your present. We will be safe here.” Castiel led him through the trees and towards a tiny village. Really just a collection of houses. A young woman greeted them with a smile and took Castiel’s hands.

Castiel said something to her in the local language, like Welsh, but worse to Owen’s ears. She answered looking between the two and curtseying.

Owen eyed the angel. “Been here before, have you?”

“This is an important location in the history of Earth.”

Owen looked at the collection of huts. “Doesn’t look like much.”

“Many human things begin that way.” Castiel followed the woman inside and Owen found himself fed and given somewhere to sleep. Far better than when he’d first landed here.

The next afternoon there were shouts. An accident, one of the men hurt working in the forest. Owen automatically went to help them, Castiel translating his requests as he cleaned and bound up the wound. “Maybe he won’t die of infection,” muttered Owen when he finished.

Castiel put a hand on his arm. “You did a good thing.”

Owen shook him off. “I’m a doctor. Can we go home yet?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Why didn’t you just cure him the way you took care of the bump on my head?”

“As you pointed out, you are a doctor. He will survive, thanks to you. And if I use all of my energy to cure, then you will not be able to return home.” He left him alone with his thoughts.

Owen walked around the village, looking around. These people were people, that much didn’t change, even if the technology did. He suddenly wondered how hard it must have been for Jack to land when he did and figure out how things were done. A little girl ran up to him and pointed at the hut where the man was resting and gave him a flower. Must have been his daughter. Shaking his head, Owen muttered and went back to the hut he was staying in, stuffing the flower in his pocket.

The next day they walked back out to the forest. Another flutter of wings and the forest changed into the concrete and steel of Cardiff. Before Owen could say anything else, the angel was gone. Shaking his head he went to find Jack and the others, wondering how Jack and Castiel would have ever met.

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