"Angel Watch Over Me, Angel Know My Truths, Angel Save Me Every Day"
This is a short, one-shot story I made for my school's literary magazine.
If it is poorly written or too 'OC' do tell me I rather not put mushy, unrealistic stories up in the Supernatural fandom.
Thanks again and enjoy!
Driving up the scenic highway of Big Sky Back Country Byway your vision's clouds and you know why, you haven't slept well in weeks. Nightmares keep crawling up on you
The drive to Montana is killing your head; thank god it's only 50 miles away now. Even better your brother's not here to ask questions about your weary state, it would only make you groan louder than now.
The throbbing building up on your temple beats in time with the AC/DC song and it really does feel like you're on a highway to hell as the song rages on with your aching body.
Black wings flicker in the distances, you speed up to ignore it fluttering in the rearview mirror, but you hear it still. You grip the wheel a little more preparing to drive off the road if 'he' doesn't leave you in peace.
The music scrambles from the hard rock station to something too soothing to drive with, you punch the dials and everything is quiet but the engine. You know this isn't just a check in from the holy tax account, he wants to talk and you really don't need it right now.
"Please talk to me, you aren't well." The gruff voice whispers behind you and you send the car to a screeching halt.
"I'm fine, and you're invading my privacy." You crank the gears and settle back into the seat before turning back with a hard stare.
Now it's dead quiet.
You meet him and those crystal blue irises dead on, he doesn't say a word and you what he needs to say. Probably along the lines of helping you, you're not well and apologies for invading though you don't actually mind the closeness of him to you. His hands brush between your hands and you grasp them tightly before turning back to the front seat.
"I'll sleep, okay?" You whisper in a huff as his hand slips away. You recline the seat back and his hands weave into your hair.
"Alright." His hands warm your scalp as they move in circles; must be his angel mojo.
"You can watch over me…if you want, but it's still rape-creepy."
"Thank you." With sleep falling over your eyes and his hands brushing your hair he starts to hum 'Hey Jude'.
"Hey Jude, don't make it bad
Take a sad song and make it better
Remember to let her into your heart
Then you can start to make it better..."
He doesn't sing with much rythmn but stays in tune with the song. The way he carefully says the words makes you draw into it, makes you simle as you drift off and the words come slipping out before you notice it fully.
"Cas, you're the best. Don't ever change."
"Alright Dean."