Any characters/plots/histories/circumstances, etc. found within the show/novelizations/scripts or otherwise stated for the TV show Supernatural aren't mine. Duh. Any characters/plots/histories/circumstances, etc. not found within the show/novelizations/scripts or otherwise stated for the TV show Supernatural are mine. So no touchy.
My first, and probably only, Supernatural fanfic. I blame my friend Jenn for this. She's the one that got me hooked on the show and so it's subsequently her fault that I had Castiel banging around inside my head demanding to be let out. Updates will probably be sporadic at best but I'll do my damndest to finish the story. I don't like to leave people hanging for eternity. Check my profile for information on when/how this particular story is set. Enjoy!
xXx
Heels clacked faster against wet pavement as Molly's breath clamored out in short, ragged gasps. Sometimes it was all she heard and that was both comforting and terrifying. Was it gone? Or just gone quiet? Every swallow was like choking back shards of glass. Molly spit but there was no blood. It was only her mind doing the shredding.
A whine escaped her throat and she turned to look behind her, her hair whipping into her face, stinging her eyes. There was no one there. The street was quiet.
"Oh I'll walk to work today," Molly huffed as she kept her pace steady. "It'll do me good." She coughed. "Real freaking' smart, Mol."
She hoisted the bag strap up onto her shoulder as her heart kept pace with her feet. The blood pounded in her ears and Molly put two fingers to her temples, trying to will away the oncoming headache. Whether it was the crappy weather or premature aging, she didn't know but lately her body had been killing her. No amount of orthopedic pillows or chiropractic visits helped ebb the pain pushing at her skin. Every inch of her body rumbled with a low throb that no pain killer could quell. The frustration was starting to outweigh the hurt.
Metal clattered in a passing alley and Molly screeched as she jumped out of the way of an invisible nothing. But when she jumped, a pair of hands caught her and shoved her into the dripping dark of the cement corridor. Molly stumbled and hit the brick wall, scraping her cheek as her ankle awkwardly caught her. Pain shot up into her core and Molly leaned into the wall for support, crawling over onto her back to face her assailant.
At first the alley was a blur of shadows but then the pinky streak of a face invaded the dark and her eyes started to focus. With each blink the image sharpened and the stranger came into view. A man. He could have been anyone except Molly could see his face. His real face. Horrifying. Like something dredged from the pit of Hell and tortured into submission. The first time she saw one she freaked. Now she just stopped breathing and prayed to God it would go away.
Its true form swirled around the human head like a sickly black smoke. Its fiery red eyes flickered independently from the ones on its host. But when the host blinked, his eyes went from normal to black as pitch, as if the pupil had bled over the entire eyeball. He blinked again and they were back to normal. Molly didn't know which set to look at.
"See me, can you?"
Molly didn't answer. Instead she forced herself to breathe as she tried to beat back the pain in her ankle.
The man smirked and cocked his head. "They said you were dangerous. But you don't look so bad to me."
"I don't know what you want," try as she might, Molly couldn't keep the shudder from her voice, "but just leave me alone."
It smiled, its teeth blackened and oozing. The host smiled too, his teeth straight and white.
"Well, you're not very bright, are you?"
Molly's eyes hopped around the shadows at her feet, desperately looking for something, anything, she could use as a weapon. Or maybe she could run. With the others, one push sent them flying. It'd be enough to get a head start at least. The pain was manageable if it meant her life.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk." He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at her like a condescending parent. "You really are dumb if you think you can had me like the others. Like we work backwards on the smart scale."
Molly made to lunge but a calloused hand gripped her throat and the cold fingers wound around her neck. Her short gasps turned over into drowning heaves, trying to force air through the closing airway.
"Please don't kill me," Molly choked. Even as the black dots started to burst in her vision, Molly knew how stupid that sounded. She clawed at the hand and tried to shove at the chest in front of her but she was weakening too quickly. The beast's laugh was demonic and it slicked the man's cackle in Hellfire, burning her face. She closed her eyes against the noxious heat and turned her face to the side.
"Dead? No. You're no good to us dead. In fact, you're very bad to us dead. But unconscious? That we can manage. At least until we get you where we want you."
Molly felt her hands drop to her sides as the clench on her neck subsided. The ringing in her ears got louder as the noise in the alley faded out. But instead of slipping into blackness, the light turned on. Blinding white light on the inside of her eyelids. And the voices. They were getting louder. They were there before. With the others. They told her what to do. But she was awake then. Aware. Now?
Still their whispering got louder. Your face. Your face is your weapon. Fight and show him your face. Do it. You must. You have to do this. It was a bunch of different voices all hurling words at her at once. And the light was so bright. But Molly reached out with her invisible hands and pushed it away. The beast couldn't see this light. Just like the others couldn't see it until she showed it to them. She had no idea how she did it then and she had no idea how she was going to do it now but she didn't have a choice.
The feeling of the man's fingers wrapped around her throat came back into being. She could feel his nails digging into her skin. Slowly she opened her eyes and the garbage at her feet was as clear as if it were noon and not nine. Everything shimmered and as she looked upon something, it was illuminated in light. Slowly, she turned her head to the man and at first his smirk hung on his lips but when the light shone into his face, whiting out his features, his jaw dropped and a scream ripped through the alley.
Everything was illuminated, washed out in light yet crystal clear. The man's eyes flared, almost as if they were shooting flames, and then the light died down and all that was left was the man's screams. His hand dropped from her neck and Molly choked back a lungful of air.
When the alley was finally dark again and the spots subsided from Molly's vision, she saw the man doubled over in front of her, his hands clenching his face. In a second his head jerked up, revealing to her two bloody, empty eye sockets where two perfectly seeing orbs used to be.
"Not again," she whispered to herself.
The beast was winded, its wispy form scathed from her attack. No more red eyes. Those has been burned out too.
"You bitch!" he screeched.
He lunged for her and Molly's hand caught his face, her palm against his cheek. She put her weight against him, fighting him off but instead of pushing back, he started to howl. The black mist started to fizzle away as the light glowed from within the man's body. His eyes and mouth flared with the light and his head tilted back as his body lurched forward. Molly could see the smoke try to scramble away but the light was faster. It flared heat white before it faded and the man's body crumpled to her feet. The black smoke was gone. What was left in the alley with her was human.
"Not again," she sobbed.
Without checking for a pulse, Molly shimmied out form under the weight on her legs and as fast a she could hobble she carried herself out of the alley without looking back.
"I think we got another case," Sam said as he tossed the newspaper on the bed next to Dean.
Dean cocked an eyebrow at his brother over his burger as he took a bite. "Think?" he said around the half-chewed hunk of meat. "Can't recognize a case when you see it?"
Sam rolled his eyes and deflated an inch or two. "Well I don't think some coyote ugly is searing out guys' eyes with her morning smile."
Dean frowned, letting the burger bite linger in his cheek as he glanced at the newspaper next to him.
"That's the third one in two weeks."
"Same town?"
Sam nodded. "All found in alleys. All with their eyes burned out."
"Not too many things go for the eyes like that," Dean said before he took another bite.
"There's only one thing I know that does that." Sam's eyebrows lifted as eyes urged to Dean.
Dean studied Sam's face for a second before the question crept into his tone. "You think it's an angel?"
Sam shrugged. "You know anything else that can do that without torching the rest of a person's face?"
"No."
A quick intake of breath and Dean's eyes widened. He placed the burger on the nightstand and put a hand to his throat in the sign of choking. Sam's eyes glanced to the door but quickly jetted back to Dean as blue started to color his lips. Dean gripped as his throat and motioned for his brother to hurry up.
Sam stood and with one step was next to Dean and pounding on his back. With a couple of hard thuds, a dripping piece of masticated cow shot from Dean's mouth and bounced onto Sam's bed. Dean gasped for air as he glared up at his brother.
"Thanks for rushing to my aid."
"Sorry. Cas kind of threw me off. He wouldn't let you die anyway."
Keeping himself planted, Dean slowly turned his glare onto Castiel.
"You." He pointed at the angel. "Can you at least turn the TV on to static six and let us know you're here before chiming into our conversations? I'm not ready to walk Carol Ann into the light yet."
Castiel frowned and tilted his head. " Who's Carol Ann?"
Dean was about to retort when Sam jumped in to divert back to the original conversation before Dean had his religious experience.
"You said no. It's an angel doing this?"
Castiel's gaze slid over to Sam. "We believe so."
"Why?" Dean asked. "That's not your smiting MO. Is someone getting bored?"
"We think this angel doesn't know what she's doing."
"How's that possible? Is this another Anna? She's been human so long she's forgot what she is?" Sam asked.
"No . . . and yes."
The brothers stood there for a second, both leaning into Castiel's presence, waiting for him to elaborate. After a few seconds, when the air still hung silent, Dean gave a disgruntled sigh and spoke up.
"C'mon, Cas. We're done dealing with this secretive crap. You obviously want our help or you wouldn't have beamed in. So spill. Who is she?"
Castiel pursed his lips and stared at the brothers without blinking. "She's not like Anna. She's not fallen. But . . ."
"But what? She is an angel?" Sam asked.
Castiel gave a short nod. "Yes."
"We're gonna need more than that," Dean interjected. He clenched his fist and did his best to hold himself back. He wanted to help but they could only do it with information.
"It's best not to divulge too much until you secure her. In the meantime we'll fortify a building that'll be safe to bring her to. We'll let you know where once it's done. You must get her before the demons attack her again."
"If she's an angel why can't you guys just swoop in and take her back to the mothership? Why do you need us to do it?" Dean asked. There was a picture Cas wasn't painting them and it was chapping his ass.
"It's not that simple."
"But you can make it that simple." Dean stepped up to Castiel and stared him down. "This sounds like your kind of problem, not ours."
Castiel didn't so much as flinch from Dean's irritated tone. "It's everyone's problem until we can secure her. Make sure the demons don't get her."
Before Dean could even form the words, Castiel had blinked out of the room, leaving Sam and Dean gaping at the space he was just standing in.
"Dammit, Cas!" Dean yelled into the empty space. He turned to Sam and didn't bother to hide his skepticism. "I'm getting a little sick of cleaning up their crap."
"Dean, let's look at this for a second. They have an angel they have no power over, that they need us to capture but she's not fallen and stuck in a meat suit without her memory. What kind of angel is she?"
"Is this some kind of four legs in the morning type of riddle because I hate those."
"No, all I'm saying is what the hell are we up against? Some kind of mutant rogue angel that not even Heaven can control? Those guys ripped you out of Hell and even this chick's out of their pay grade?"
Sam urged to Dean, begging him with his eyes to see the light but Dean just arched an eyebrow at him, his eyes half-lidded.
"You lost me at leg riddle."
"This doesn't sound like a suicide mission to you? It wouldn't be the first time the feather people set us up to die." Sam sighed heavily as his brother merely blinked at him.
Dean turned away, walked to the nightstand to grab his burger and continued eating. He pointed his burger at Sam and said, "You need to get out more."
Sam ran his hand through his hair and plopped down on his bed. "I just think we need to keep our heads on our shoulders about this one. I know you have a lot of faith in Cas but . . ."
"Better than putting stock in a demon," Dean said, chewing angrily.
"And I'm sure torturing Alistair was a walk in the park, right?"
Dean stared down at this brother while Sam looked at him with a knowing glare. Dean cleared from food out of his teeth with his tongue, tossed the remainder of the burger in the trash and turned his back on Sam.
"Let's get this over with. What's the worst she can do to us?"
"Melt our eyes out of our heads without even realizing she's doing it."
Dean looked up and silently stumbled over a few responses before admitting defeat.
"Okay. While I'm pretty attached to my eyes, she's not a renegade smiter. Look, all these guys were found in alleys, right? So she was probably under attack. Dudes with pothole eyes aren't dropping dead over their vente mocha latte chai's at Starbucks, are they?"
"Doesn't look like it," Sam said snidely as he put his hands on his hips.
"So as long as she doesn't feel threatened by us, she won't feel the need to go full contact Lasik on our heads."
Dean walked around the bed and started jamming his things into his duffel. When he caught wind that he was the only one in the room moving, he looked up to see Sam looking at him with a gaping awe on his face.
"Are we doing this or what 'cause Benton's two days away."
Sam scoffed, a flabbergasted smile on his face before he started gathering up his own stuff. Dean glanced up at him for a second, watching him as he moved. He still found it a hard pill to swallow that Sam was apprehensive about Cas. Even despite everything the angels sucked them in to, Sam was so quick to trust a demon, to flip him over for a demon. But he was skeptical of Cas? At least the angels worked for a greater good. A demented and really screwed up greater good but a greater good nonetheless. Maybe it was because of Ruby he was so skeptical. Both sides had ulterior motives after all, and they weren't shy about showcasing that.
Whatever it was, Sam had to tuck it back. This wasn't just any angel. It was Cas. He sacrificed as much for them as they did for him.
Dean grabbed the keys to the Impala and walked out the door without looking back.
xXx
Reviews are always appreciated.
