She padded down the dim street, asphalt irritating her bare feet. A cool breeze brushed her long dark hair over her shoulder revealing goose bumps sprouting across her chest. Though she didn't know she was cold. She didn't really know what cold was. It was simply yet another strange and new sensation. It was something to be savored. She had felt so little for so long.
She had woken only a few hours previous in a cold, dark room on a cold, dark table, and she burst into consciousness with a scream. But there was no one to hear it. After a few minutes of her head spinning and heavy breathing, she could think clearly enough to understand what she had to do. She did not know where she was, but no matter, she knew where she needed to go. So she climbed off the table, up the stairs, and out of what looked like a quaint house.
She had been walking for hours led on by a simple knowing of her goal. Her bare feet were hurting from walking over gravel for miles, and her bare skin was sticky from sweat but would chill in the wind. She secretly cursed the fact that she didn't have a better way of travel, but she was almost there. A small suburb with houses that all looked the same and far too many street lights. She raised her hand, fingers spread, and all the streetlights dimmed and winked out. It was gradual so as to avoid suspicion. She needed darkness right now. There were far too many eyes out in the night.
The house was nothing extraordinary. A tidy yard and bland paint job, just like the rest on the block, but this was the house. It might as well have had a twenty foot, red arrow hovering over it, she was sure. And so, without hesitation, she climbed to steps and rang the bell. At that moment she briefly doubted herself, and fingered a sapphire cross around her neck. It was the only thing she wore, so when the boy opened the door and immediately froze wide eyed, it would have been completely understandable. She didn't seem to notice this reaction.
"Dean Winchester?" she asked. Her voice seemed to break whatever trance he might have been under, and he turned into the house and slammed the door. This was surprising. She could hear the boy calling for his mother and sighed deeply, breathing back her annoyance. She rang the door bell again.
This time a young woman answered, Lisa. She was pretty with a small frame and dark hair; however she wore an angry expression.
"What the hell is this?" she asked looking the naked girl up and down.
"Dean Winchester?"
"No," Lisa spat shaking her head.
"May I speak to Dean Winchester?"
"No. What you can do is get the hell off my porch." She went to slam the door, but the strange girl put her hand out and stopped in dead with a great rattle.
"I know he is here, and I shall not leave until I speak to him. Bring him to the door, now."
Lisa's eyes betrayed her then, she was afraid. Dean had not told her everything, but he had told her enough for her to understand that this was not just a crazy person on her porch. This was the reason there was a strange circle painted under the welcome mat. This was the reason why she burned sage candles instead of more inviting scents; Dean would know what to do. The situation, the girl, was strange, and Dean knew strange. She nodded slowly.
"Thank you." The girl said it without any of her previous tone. It was polite almost cheerful. Lisa closed the door and locked it. Dean was upstairs sleeping. He slept a lot these days; he said he was catching up for years of nightmares.
The door swung open slowly, cautiously, and there he stood. She had never met him, but knew his face all too well. She would say that she knew his face as well, as she knew her own, but that was no longer true as she had no idea what her face looked like now.
"Hello, Dean Winchester." He turned his head inside the house.
"Okay, so you weren't kidding." Turning back, his voice dropped to a dangerous tone. "Who the hell are you?"
"My name is Enoch; I am an Angel of the Lord."
He sighed heavily and rubbed his brow. Obviously he was not happy to see her, which she could not blame him for. She knew what he had been through.
"Of course you are." He could have easily not believe her, but he knew better. He had seen that stare many times before. Castiel had locked him in the same expression too many times to count. "What are you doing here? Isn't this thing over yet?"
"I am not here for what you think. I am here for you."
"For me? What, you here to lead me to the light or something? No thanks."
Her eye brows furrowed, "No, I am here to help you."
"With what?"
"I am not quite sure."
"Well, isn't that just great. Look, I don't want your help, so why don't you fly back to Heaven or whoever sent you, and tell them from me to shove it?"
"I cannot fly right now, and they did not send me. I believe we are not understanding each other. I would like to explain."
"I don't want to hear. Good-bye." He threw the door closed, but again she put her hand out to stop it.
"I cannot leave. I cannot go back to Heaven until I finish my mission here on Earth, and if I cannot get back to Heaven I have nowhere else to go and nothing else to do, but sit here until you talk to me. I cannot force you to talk to me, but I am prepared to stand her for as long as it takes. How long do you think an angel wait?"
The answer was clear. Forever.
Dean stared her down looking for the bluff. There was none. He opened the door wide. "You have five minutes." She entered the house, fully confirming that she was not, in fact a demon. "Alright, first things first," he said. "Where are your clothes?"
"I woke like this and have no means of procuring clothing at this time."
"Didn't pass any clotheslines on the way?"
"That would be stealing." She eyed him curiously.
"Right." He went into the next room and produced a blanket. She wrapped it around herself and followed him into a small dining area adjacent to a kitchen. Dean gestured for her to sit and strode to the refrigerator, retrieved a beer, and sat opposite Enoch. He drank, and then with a sigh waved his hand. "Go."
"I have been bestowed the task of helping you. I am to guide and protect you to a certain end."
"What end?"
"I don't really know. I am not privy to all the information. I am strictly on a need to know basis. When new information is needed, it will be revealed."
"And which angel 'bestowed' this task on you? Who's your boss?"
"I do not work for angels, this comes from God."
"Oh, I bet." He shot as he took another drink. "I've heard that before, and it was all a bunch of bullshit."
"This time it is different."
"How can I be sure you are telling the truth?"
"You cannot." She took a deep breath and tried to think of what to say. "I may be talking out of turn here, I don't even know if this is true, but I think this mission has something to do with your brother." This peeked his interest, but he would not let her know that.
"My brother is gone."
"No, he is not. Even now he battles against what is in him, but Lucifer is far too strong for him to ever truly win. I think I am supposed to save him; or you are, or we together. That is how this… feels."
"How it feels. You don't even really know why you are here. And I don't recall any of the angels having any interest in saving him before. Why the change of heart?"
"As I said, I do not work for them. What happened to you was not supposed to happen. Well, at least it was not supposed to happen the way it did. I believe God would like to make things right."
"A year later huh?"
"I admit that the time frame is… unfortunate-"
"Unfortunate? Unfortunate is beyond an understatement. You say God wants to make this right, well where was he when we getting our asses handed to us?"
"When God left heaven he did not believe that the remaining angels would react as they did. But there were pressing matters that had to be taken care of."
"This story you are trying to sell me is complete crap, you know. We were there. Sam and I spoke to Joshua, and he said that God didn't think the fucking apocalypse was his problem, what pressing matters were so important that he couldn't take one second to lift a finger to help us?"
"None of your business." Her tone was dark and forceful. "And God did help you, as much as he could at that time. He saved your life, and resurrected Castiel more than once. Perhaps he did not think it was his problem because he had put his best men on it."
"Who? Michael? Or maybe Zach? Because I've got news for you, his best men, screwed the pooch."
"Not them, you. Both you and your brother. And you did not disappoint. You saved the world, and now maybe it is time for your reward."
"Yeah, maybe, but you don't really know for sure." Enoch shook her head. "It doesn't matter. It's been a year, and I made a promise to my brother."
"Have you never broken a promise to your brother?" She eyed him down across the table and he knew that it would be no use to lie. "I believe I was sent here to retrieve your brother from the darkness but without you, my efforts will go in vein." Again they stared at each other from across the table. Dean felt terribly torn. He had promised Sam that he would not try to save him; that he would live a normal life. But that was impossible, and he had already broken his promise. For the last few months he had poured over any book remotely related to the subject he could get his hands on. Even now there was a pile waiting for him on the nightstand. He glanced at Lisa who had been standing nearby the whole time.
"Wait here," he said and took Lisa into the next room.
"Are you alright?" She asked
"Not really. I can't believe this. I don't know what to do."
"Do you really think she is an angel?"
He sighed, "Yeah I do, but she's kinda different from the others. Somehow."
"Do you think she can really help Sam?" He shook his head, he didn't know. Lisa put her hands on his shoulders and held him at arm's length. "I know you have been trying to figure out a way to find Sam for months now. This may be your best chance."
"It's not my life anymore."
"Dean, not even I believe that."
"You think I should go?"
"No, but I know you will. I just hope to God that you come back." She embraced him then and they both returned to the kitchen. Enoch sat still in the chair staring straight ahead as angels tend to.
"Ok, you got my attention, what do we do?" Dean said. She looked at him and nodded.
"First we must find and recruit the angel, Castiel."
"Why?"
Her eyebrows furrowed again, "I do not know, it is simply the next step." She did not understand why he questioned so much.
"Ok, give me a few minutes; I've got to get a few things together."
"Very well, I shall wait." With that she sat back and stared off straight ahead, as angels tend to. Dean glanced at Lisa, and back at Enoch wrapped in a blanket. Lisa got the hint.
"Uh, I think I have a few old clothes I can let you have," Lisa offered.
"Thank you, Lisa Braeden" Enoch replied. "That is extremely generous of you."
"Just follow me." Lisa reached out to the angel, but Enoch flinched away.
"Please don't touch me." She did not say it unkindly; it was almost like she was embarrassed. The reaction was strange even for an angel, but Lisa simply dropped her hands and gestured for the girl to follow.
This left Dean alone to contemplate exactly what he was going to do. The whole situation was unreal, and that was saying something for Dean. However, on his own he was unable to find anything to help Sam, this angel (if she was in fact an angel) was offering at least a little hope, and if it all turned out to be complete crap, he could always kill her. His thinking led him to the garage, to the shrouded figure of the 67 Impala. With a single pull, the tarp fell off revealing the car in all its black brilliance. The trunk was still well stocked, but it had been a while and the guns would have to be cleaned and inspected. A part of him looked forward to it.
Dean's hand dragged over the smooth curves of the impala. He loved that car. The one constant in his life. Even now, after all that had happened, all he had lost and learned, all he had struggled through, all the shit, the Impala was there, just as she had always been. He had not driven her in a long while but now he could feel his hands itch at the thought of getting behind the wheel. Pulling himself away from the car was hard at the moment, but he did. There were other things to do. He had to pack a bag and say goodbye to the people he had come to love.
It didn't take long; Dean was always terrible at goodbyes. And he was soon again at the impala's side checking the trunk's inventory. Enoch came into the garage. She was now fully clothed; old sneakers, t-shirt, sweat pants and a hoodie (none of it fit well). He eyed her.
"I feel strange," she said.
"Deal with it. Let's go."
Four hours later it was midnight and they were driving out of the state. They had sat there in silence except the constant soundtrack of classic rock from the radio. But suddenly a thought occurred to Enoch.
"Where are we going? To meet the angel, Castiel?"
"No, Cas is not answering his phone. We are going to a friend's house."
"I think that is unwise, Dean Winchester. The next step is to find the angel, Castiel. We should stop everything else and spend our energy on that."
"Calm down. I left a message. He'll call when he calls; in the mean time I need a little more information."
"About what?"
"You."
"You could just ask me."
"I could, but no offense; I don't trust anything you say. I've never even heard of an angel named Enoch. So we're just going to do a little fact finding." She didn't like what he was implying. She was not use to others not trusting her. She turned away from him to look out the window at the strange world around her and the silence returned for another two hours until Dean could not suppress his enormous yawns. It seemed that he was not used to all-nighters anymore. Enoch noticed this as well.
"You are tired, Dean Winchester. Your driving skills are deteriorating."
"That is an outstanding observation." He had already slowed the car to pull over. "I need a couple of hours of sleep." Enoch nodded. "You just going to sit there quietly?"
"Yes, I will try not to disturb you." With that she stared off straight ahead again, and Dean leaned back and closed his eyes. He was pretty sure that he wasn't going to be able to sleep at all, but he was beat and needed to at least try. The next thing he knew, he was waking up to the sun in his face and the rhythmic vibration of a moving car. It was six hours later.
He woke with a start realizing that he was in a passenger seat. He looked over at Enoch, who was behind the wheel. "What the hell?"
"Good morning," she answered.
"You're driving my car. Why are you driving my car?"
"It would have been a waste of time for me to sit while you slept and I knew that you would not give me your permission to drive, so I waited until you fell asleep and moved you over. I thought it would be easier to ask forgiveness than permission. We didn't lose time and you got to sleep more. The good outweighed the bad."
"How did you even learn to drive?"
"Watching you. I learn very quickly." At this moment the Impala was pulling up to a traffic light. They were still a distance away when the light turned yellow, but with a jump Enoch put her foot down and sped through the intersection. However, the timing wasn't right and the light had turned red. This ended with the Impala narrowly avoiding a truck. Dean yelled loudly at her.
"What are you doing? You almost killed us! I thought you said you watched me."
"I did. Red: stop. Green: fast. Yellow: very fast so as to beat the red light. Is that not correct?" She was genuinely confused. She thought she had paid very close attention and understood driving. Dean leaned over and hissed in her ear.
"Pull… over…" She did immediately, but still did not understand his anger. As they switched seats he said, "You are never allowed to drive again, understand?" She nodded and slid into the passenger seat. Dean slid in after her and quickly did a spot check to see if she had moved anything or worse, broke anything. "Where are we anyway?"
"Four hours from your friend Bobby's house." He looked at her surprised. She shrugged. "That is where you wanted to go."
"How did you know that?"
"I can hear your thoughts."
"You are reading my mind? That's not cool."
"It is very useful. I am here to help you, so I can know what you need or want as fast as you can think it. And I learn much by listening to your thoughts, though I was rather uncomfortable with your first impressions of me."
"Ok, stop there, enough. No more reading my mind… at all." She had that confused look again. "It's an invasion of privacy… and in my defense you were naked the first time we met." They drove on in silence again, but it was Dean this time that broke it. "So you can read minds, learn really fast, and don't need to sleep, but you are riding around in the car. That's different."
"While I am here I must travel as you. I am your protector, so I must stay by your side at all times."
"And how's that?"
"Very… annoying. Humans are very slow."
"I still don't understand why you are helping me. The only thing angels ever wanted from me was my ok to shove Michael up my ass, and I wouldn't say that was much help."
"None of the angels know that I am here. This mission has nothing to do with any of them."
"What happens if they find out you're here?"
"Some might try to stop me, maybe. I never thought about it."
"You talk like it's no big deal. What you going to do when an Arch-angel shows up? That doesn't make you nervous at all?"
Enoch cocked an eyebrow. "No, that does not make me nervous. Of course I would rather it not come to that, but serving as Seraphim has erased most of my fear."
"Seraphim, huh?" Enoch nodded. "That doesn't really mean anything to me, you know."
"Oh? Hmmm…"
Bobby's home was the same as always. The scrap yard stretched out behind the slightly dilapidated house. It was a shabby thing, that held a great many booby-traps and fond memories. The Impala rolled up to the front next to Bobby's nondescript van, and as Dean turned the key he wondered if perhaps he should have called before showing up.
However, it was too late for all of that. A year had gone by without so much as a phone call between Dean and Bobby, the thought of which would have seem absurd just thirteen months ago. Bobby, the only father Dean had left, had been there through it all. He had been maimed and cured, sold his soul; died to only be brought back and he along with only two others walked away from the apocalypse. Yes, Bobby had been through it all with Dean, and when he came to the door after the third knock, it was as if no time had passed. He looked the same, grizzled and hard, but his expression softened when his eyes fell on Dean.
"Hey boy," was his greeting.
"Hey Bobby." They embraced like father and son, like old friends. But the moment passed and as Dean pulled away the other man's expression was perturbed.
"What's wrong?"
Dean scratched the back of his head and gestured at Enoch. "This is… uh, E. Can we come in for a while? I need to talk to you." Enoch stepped in close, far too close.
"Hello, Bobby Singer."
Bobby took a step back a looked over her shoulder at Dean who waved his hands like wings and mouthed the word "angel."
"Oh," Bobby said returning his attention to her. "Hello." He put his hand out for her to shake, but she didn't. She eyed it wearily for a few uncomfortable beats until Dean pushed her into the house.
On the way in he leaned to Bobby and said out of the side of his mouth, "Yeah, not a big fan of touching." He walked Enoch into a dusty room with an old couch and even older TV. It would only get three channels and couldn't show green, but Dean flipped it on anyway and sat Enoch opposite it.
"Look! Magic box, just sit here and watch it for a while." Enoch's eyes went large staring at the screen as Dean walked past her and grabbed Bobby by the arm dragging him into the library, which again looked just as it did before except that perhaps there were a few more stacks of old leather bound tomes. Quickly the sliding doors were closed and the two men could talk without interruption.
"What's going on?" Bobby said completely dumbfounded.
"That's why I'm here; I need your help in figuring it out. Last night she shows up at my house for no reason telling me that God had sent her, but she doesn't really know why. She 'feels' like it is to help Sam, but she can't be sure."
"Boy, you attract angels like crap attracts flies."
"I know, but I don't even know if she is a real angel. I know she's not a demon, but there are a lot of other things out there that are just as capable of lying, you know."
"You ask Cas?"
"Not answering his phone. God knows where he is now… literally."
"It's not like them to just show up without a plan."
"I was hoping you would have some information on her in your books."
"I'll try. What do you know about her?"
"Not really a whole lot. She said that she was a Sera…Something or other." Bobby's face dropped.
"A Seraphim?"
Dean nodded. "That's it."
"That's not possible." Bobby walked away rubbing his chin. Dean followed. "Seraphim are the highest order of angels." He retrieved a book and glanced at Dean, whose face was blank. "Let me paint you a picture, genius. There are twelve orders of angels. Now I figure Cas is about a level ten. Michael and other Arch-angels are only a level eight. A Seraphim is a level one." He could see in Dean's face that now he was starting to get it and he continued. "According to the lore there are only four, they have six wings and personally attend God himself. They don't ever leave his side; they don't ever come to Earth. Some writings say that they are too powerful to ever be confined to a vessel."
"Anna told me once that only four angels had ever seen God's face." Dean said peering at the sliding doors. "Enoch is one of them? What the hell is she doing with me?"
"Enoch?"
"That's her name."
"Hmmm…" Bobby scratched his head, his trucker hat leaning askew. "That sounds familiar, really familiar." Bobby went back to the book shelf and started searching, while Dean looked down at the first book he had had. It was on the desk flipped to a page with a black and white etching of an angel with six wings, two covering its eyes, two its body and the last two open wide. Bobby exclaimed as he found the book he was looking for and came back to the desk flipping its pages. "The name 'Enoch' isn't rare in the bible, but those Enochs are all just men, nothing special. But there are some references to the name in older writings. There is the Book of Enoch, it's really old. One of the first writings ever really. It is a story of a man that is visited by fallen angels and taught the mysteries of the world. And there is another mention, right here," His finger poked at a page as he read. Bobby's face became grim as he handed the book to Dean. "In here Enoch is the name of the Battlefield Angel. This is the angel that would mow down whichever army was judged as evil."
"What? Like demons?" Dean asked staring at the book.
"No… Man. Enoch destroyed man. And I'm not talking one or two at a time. I'm talking wiping out cities. Sodom and Gomorrah, shit like that."
"So what are you telling me here? She's some kind of killer angel?"
"It looks like you got one lethal bitch of a fallen angel sitting on your shoulder."
"You would be mistaken." They both whipped around to find Enoch standing between the sliding doors. Fear coursed through them. She seemed darker in a way, no longer lithe and naive, but dangerous. "I am not, nor ever was, fallen," she said.
"Ok, what about the rest of it?" Dean ventured. "All the Battlefield Angel stuff?"
"That is true, but it was very long ago, before I was Seraphim."
"You wiped out entire armies? Cities?"
"It was God's will."
"You're the hammer," Dean mumbled and shook his head.
"What?" she asked, but he just turned from her. She sighed inwardly, but nothing said here was of any import. Her past was of no consequence to the matter at hand. "You have the information you wanted on me, can we now continue on?"
"Why you?" Dean countered. "Why did they send you? You said that you are supposed to be my protector, but that doesn't seem to be one of your skills. Maybe you're not here to save Sam. Just maybe you're here to get rid of him once and for all. That would seem more up your alley."
"You are right, Dean Winchester. There is no reason why I should be here, but I was chosen and given my orders. None of which is to hurt you or your brother, or any other human."
"I'm supposed to believe you now?"
"I have not lied to you."
"You seemed to have left out a bunch of stuff."
"What I was thousands of years ago has nothing to do with what is going on right now. You should know better than most, that one should not be judged by horribly dark deeds that they might have done in their past." Dean's breath caught in his throat. "You may throw your stone at me, but at least what I did was for a higher power and not just to save myself from pain."As she finished, a light bulb behind her shattered into harmless sparks. The words hung in the air though and dug deep into him and Bobby could see the anger and shame bubbling under his skin. He put a hand out to Dean.
"Let's all calm down now." He turned to Enoch. "You want to help Sam? You think you can?"
She nodded. "Please do not think I am cruel. I am not what you think I am. I am not what is written, and I do know what has happened to Sam and to you both. All I want to do is help. I think I can help. I swear…"
"You swear!" Dean spat as if the word of an angel was worthless.
"To God." Her voice was softer now and it was apparent that she was sincere. "At least wait and ask Castiel if I am telling you the truth." Dean was clearly not pleased, but nodded all the same.
"Ok," Bobby breathed. "You both alright now? If I leave you alone, you're not going to rip each others' heads off, right?"
"Where are you going?" Dean asked.
"I have a job, maybe. Up near where you live now, actually. Zombies, maybe."
"I haven't heard anything."
"It's this," Bobby handed him a newspaper. Enoch came around to read the article over Dean's shoulder. "Girl died in a car accident and then later walked right out of the funeral home. They found her fingerprints on all the door knobs."
"Do not bother, Bobby Singer." Enoch said still reading. "That is me."
"You're walking around in a dead girl?" Dead seemed unusually grossed out.
"I had no choice. I cannot share a vessel with another living soul. It never works… well."
"Well, that's just great. Her father was the one who contacted me about it. He's waiting for me to meet him right now to go look into it. What am I supposed to tell him?"
"Her father?" Enoch asked her eyebrows furrowed. "Her father has been dead for twenty three years. Her mother too. That is why she was chosen for me. All her immediate family has passed." Dean and Bobby stared at her and then at each other, both not quite understanding what they were hearing.
"Then who hired me? I think I better find that out."
"I'll go with you." They were both out the door before Dean had finished his thought. No need to pack. They're vehicles were quite well stocked for whatever it was waiting to meet Bobby. Enoch sat beside Dean in the Impala as they followed Bobby into town.
"What do you think it is?" she asked.
"Demon, shifter. Doesn't matter, it's never good."
"I am sorry for what I said to you, about your past. I am just rather sensitive about my own and tend to lash out. I shall try to control myself in the future."
"Don't worry about it. Look, I'm still not sure about all this, but if you are really going to help Sam, I will try to trust you."
"Thank you, Dean Winchester."
The nondescript van and black Impala rolled into the dirt parking lot of a small bar outside of town. Ever since the Road House had been destroyed, hunters had been finding new waterholes to perch themselves, and Dean recognized several of the cars parked in the lot.
"Damn it," he cursed under his breath as he shifted into park. "Ok, you stay here."
"No, I am to stay with you."
"Yeah well, there are hunters in there, and they are going to pick up on the fact that you are not human."
"I look perfectly human."
"Right, but you act like an angel."
"They would attack an angel." She seemed horrified.
"They won't know you are an angel, they'll just know that you aren't normal and if I'm right about these guys, they shoot first and ask questions later."
"What if you need my help?"
"I can take care of myself, been doing it for a long time. Plus if shit goes down, just wave your hand and wipe the whole damn thing off the map."
She glared at him. "That is not funny."
"It's a little funny." And with that he was gone.
Dean and Bobby entered the bar as nonchalant as possible. It was very much like the roadhouse, nothing special just a bar and a few tables. A juke box sat in the corner spewing old country hits that seemed to be muffled by all the talk and smoke in the air. A group of four "cowboys" sat at the bar, each half drunk and loud. In the far corner, clear to Dean, three hunters sat sullen, nursing their liquor. They looked rough and tired. They may have had a bad day, but if something was up, it was comforting to have them nearby with their concealed shotguns by their sides. Then there was the nervous little man sitting alone at a table. He was drinking a soda and was carefully keeping his head down, determined not to make eye contact.
Bobby motioned to the little man as if Dean needed the hint. They approached and the man's face broke into a weary smile when he saw them.
"I'm glad you came," he said. His voice sounded as nervous as he looked. "Who's this?"
"A friend," Bobby replied.
"Is he going to help find my daughter?"
"Yeah, he is-"
"Good let's go." The little man stood, but Dean put out a hand.
"Hold on for a sec, I just need a little more information before we go."
"Can't we talk about this on the way?"
"I would prefer to do it now." Dean sat and Bobby followed leaving the little man no choice but to do the same. "Now, could you please describe your daughter?" There was no picture along with the news article and Dean was interested as to how much this guy actually knew.
"Uh, she's short, blue eyes, blonde hair…" This guy was done. Both Dean and Bobby knew it, for the girl sitting in the Impala had dark hair and staring green eyes. They exchanged a meaningful glance. "You don't believe me, do you?" The little man sighed. "I was never very good at making it up on the spot, but no matter, because I really was just looking for you." He was staring at Dean.
Suddenly a shotgun blast erupted behind them and one of the hunters dropped. Before the other two could react, the cowboys were on them, each with a sawed-off shotgun. Nothing for the hunters to do but freeze and wait as their guns were removed and tossed onto the bar. The bartender came out from behind as two more men appeared from the bathroom. They all had black eyes.
"Oh, Dean, it's been too long. You've gotten rusty. I mean I've heard so many good things, but here you are! Just walked right into the hornets' nest." The little man, now displaying his own black eyes, turned to Bobby. "Well, I guess I don't need you anymore." He waved his hand and Bobby went sailing across the room.
Dean started for the demon knife hidden under his pants' leg, but they were too fast. Two suddenly had him by the arms, and as the little man started in on him, breaking his nose on the first swing, Dean silently kicked himself for making Enoch wait in the car.
"You know, my orders were only to kill you, the mythical Dean Winchester! But I guess it's my lucky day, because not only do I get you, but four hunters as well. You should have stayed hidden, boy." Another swing, this time to the ribs, cracking them. Blood came to Dean's mouth and the other demons laughed. "So how do you want it? I could, uh, slit your throat? Or rip your heart out? What sounds good to you?" Dean mumbled something unintelligible and the little man leaned closer to hear, which was just what Dean was hoping for.
"Why don't you surprise me?" He spat blood into the demon's eyes, which recoiled yelling in rage. The ploy was not meant to save him. Dean just wanted to spit in one more demon's face before he died. The pummeling started again, and all the lesser demons watched totally enthralled while the hunters looked on in disgust unable to help. Luckily they had all forgotten about Bobby, who was just then regaining consciousness.
He had landed near a window face down. His eyes opened and everything spun around him, but he knew where he was and he knew what was happening. He cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. It was not the first time a demon had tried to use him to find Dean, but it had been a while. He had gotten complacent and lazy. Slowly, he moved himself to the window, rose just enough to look through the curtains. Shafts of sunlight fell across his face and Bobby could see Enoch sitting straight and staring ahead in the front of the Impala. How to get her attention? He didn't have to think about it too long. He concentrated trying to think of something, anything to get her into the bar, and suddenly her head snapped in his direction. Her eyes seemed to lock onto him, though he knew she could not see him. Her eyebrows furrowed as if she was listening to something she didn't quite understand, and then she opened the passenger door and strode toward the front door. She seemed calm and casual.
Bobby sank to the floor as she entered. With one swing of her head she had taken in the situation. She had hoped that she had been wrong, but she had heard her name called. She had heard it in her head, and though she had promised Dean that she would not read his or Bobby's mind, she could not ignore the call.
"Let him go," she said. All the demons had dropped their black eyes and looked completely normal, but Enoch saw them for what they were. She could see their true faces, grotesque and evil.
"Who are you?" the little man shot at her.
"That is of no importance."
"Then what do you want with him?"
"He is… uh," She looked around searching for something to say that wouldn't give her away. If she could exorcise them without bloodshed she could save all their hosts, but she was too far away at the moment. She just needed to be a little closer. Suddenly a phrase came to her. She had only heard it once while she was watching the magic box. It was a human term and though she thought she was most likely going say it incorrectly and be made out, she decided to try anyway. She stepped forward with a new confidence and said clearly, "He is my boyfriend."
Dean coughed up some more blood. It was all he could do not to laugh. The little man motioned to one of the demons holding Dean, jerking his head as if to say, "Take care of her." The demon dropped Dean's arm and advanced on her. His host was a tall well built man. He would have been handsome if he wasn't full of evil. Enoch held her ground.
"Man, I wouldn't mess with her," Dean said half coherently. The remaining demon holding him punched him in the stomach. At this time the tall well built demon had reached Enoch.
"Don't worry, baby. I think it's time you changed up for a real man; I'll take care of you." He grabbed her shoulders. At the touch her eyes narrowed.
"You are touching me."
"Oh, he touched her," Dean said to the demon holding him. "Now you're fucked."
Enoch raised her foot and placed it squarely on her opponent's chest. She kicked out and sent him into the jukebox on the other side of the room. She raised her hand to the cross around her neck and touched it. Dean used the opportunity to break from his guard, pulling the knife and killing him. Dean then turned to the little man, but the look on the demon's face stopped him in his tracks. Dean had seen Demons scared, begging for their lives, begging not to be sent back to Hell. But he had never seen the expression this one had as he stared at Enoch. She was on him in seconds, grabbing him by the collar and lifting him off his feet.
"What are you?" he gasped right before she threw him down.
One of the hunters finally reacted throwing a flask of holy water in the face of one of the remaining demons. It screamed and the shotgun rang out widely. The sound brought Dean out of his head and he went to work with his knife. Enoch was clearly fine with the boss, so he went to help the unarmed hunters. The remaining demons were dispatched or ran from their hosts. When all was done Dean turned to see Enoch still standing over the little man. He squirmed still frightened. There was a quick flash as she produced a small knife and carved something into the palm of her hand.
"Stand," she ordered and the demon complied. Standing before her he trembled and seemed so much smaller than he once had. She pulled back her arm as if to punch him, but at the last second she opened her hand hitting him full in the chest with her bloody palm. Her arm seemed to go straight through him pushing out a cloud of black smoke. The cloud hung there for a second before disappearing in a dark flash like a match being struck. The little man's body, now released from the demonic presence, started to fall back, but Enoch caught him and gently lowered him to the floor.
"What did you just do?" Dean asked coming to her. She opened her palm revealing a pentagram with several other Enochian symbols.
"Blood magic," she explained. "Exorcises and kills demons without killing the host." She seemed a little winded. "You look awful," she said looking at his broken and bloodied face.
"Yeah, I was surprised."
"Clearly. May I help you now?" He nodded and she walked around him to place a hand on his back healing his broken bones. He turned to thank her, but before he could get a word out there was another blam from a shot gun. Enoch lurched forward, her face a mask of complete surprise.
"Are you alright?" Dean stepped forward to catch her, but she caught herself and put a hand out to stop him. Then she straightened, her expression changing to obvious anger. One of the hunters stood behind her, gun up and aimed. He trembled slightly as she turned to glare at him. With her back to him, Dean could see the damage the blast had done. The buckshot had torn through the hoodie and t-shirt, but otherwise had done little more. She turned back to him suddenly.
"Why are humans shooting at me?" she hissed through clenched teeth. Dean really didn't know what to tell her, but then again he didn't really have time. The hunter filled in the silence.
"She's not right. She's a monster." Enoch started toward him, but Dean grabbed her arm.
"Calm down, he doesn't understand."
"He ruined my shirt. I liked this shirt."
"We'll get you a new shirt."
She breathed out sharply still glaring at the hunter. "Very well." She shrugged Dean off and started toward the back of the bar. As she passed the nervous hunter, she leaned in close to him. "I am forbidden to kill humans as of right now. Count your blessings."
"Where are you going?" Bobby, now on his feet and next the Dean, called after her.
"I am going to spit up buckshot in the restroom." With that she stalked off.
Bobby reeled on the two hunters. "I have never seen anyone so stupid," he said. These hunters were young and obviously not too experienced. Even so, most hunters knew nothing of angels; some didn't even believe they existed. But she had helped them. Without her timely appearance they all might have been dead. A bullet hole to the back was a fine thank you.
"You saw what she did," the hunter shot back. "That's not just some normal girl. What is she? Vampire? Shifter?"
"Never you mind, just get your stuff and get the hell out of here."
"Alright, we'll leave, but I know who you are. I heard the demon. Dean Winchester, huh? You're like a legend, man, and you're hanging around with that thing?" Dean just shook his head tired of this guy. He never had a lot of patience and his year out of the game did nothing to make it better. Right now, there was nothing he would have liked more than to punch this guy in the face. "Hey, just fair warning. We'll leave but if we see her again, we're going to hunt her and kill her."
This made Dean laugh a little, "Yeah, good luck with that." The hunters went about the grim task of collecting their fallen comrade and left with no more argument. As their car pulled away, Dean and Bobby stood over the body of one of the dead demons. "They're coming after me again, huh?"
"I don't think they ever stopped," Bobby retorted. "But what I don't understand is why they don't go for you directly. Have you seen any demon sign during the past year?" Dean silently shook his head.
"That is because they can't find you, Dean Winchester. You were being protected." Enoch had emerged from the bathroom. "While you were with Lisa Braeden, you were being watched and hidden."
"That's comforting," Dean said.
"Unfortunately, now that you are out they will be able to find you."
"I thought whatever is carved into my bones hides me."
"It does hide you from us knowing where you are, but there are other ways to find someone. I think these demons were trackers. Demonic blood hounds, stupid and bloodthirsty, but effective. They probably thought Bobby knew where you were and would have tortured him until he told them."
"How did they know about you walking out of that funeral home?" Bobby asked.
"They did not know. They could not have. That may have been a coincidence."
"Demons read a newspaper, find a strange story, something that a hunter might be interested in," Dean mused, "Could happen." He stood bringing his full attention to Enoch. "You scared the shit out of them. It's like they thought you were human. Why didn't they know you were an angel?"
She touched the cross around her neck. "It is an amulet. It hides my true form until I choose to reveal myself, or do something angel…ish. It is very rare."
"Well, aren't you just full of surprises?" Bobby grumbled. "Come on; let's get out of here before someone turns up looking for a beer."
"What about him?" Enoch asked pointing to the little man. "I will not leave him here." It was clear that it would be no use to argue with her, so in the end it was decided that Bobby would take him to the hospital and meet Dean and Enoch back at his house. On the way the Impala stopped in front of a small shop and Dean passed Enoch a credit card.
"Go get some clothes. Don't talk to anyone. Don't try to kill anyone. Then take this card and pay for the clothes. Do you understand?" He talked as if he was speaking to child, but Enoch did not seem to notice. She nodded.
"This card is currency?" she asked studying the little form of plastic. "Odd."
"You don't know much about Earth, do you?"
"Earth, yes. People, no. Understand the last time I was on Earth, salt was currency."
"Just give them the card and it will work, promise."
"What will you do?"
"I'm going to call Cas again."
"Very well," she opened the door, but hesitated. "Do not wander off." She left the car as Dean dialed. No answer. He waited for the beep.
"Hey, it's me again. Listen, something is going on and I have this… uh," he debated whether or not he should openly talk about Enoch. He decided not. "This girl with me, telling me some crazy stuff, and I'm thinking that you might be the only one that could make sense of it. Man, I need your help. Call me." Since Castiel had returned to Heaven, Dean had not spoken to him. There were nights in the last year that he wish he could have though. However he had never picked up the phone. It was the same with Bobby. He missed them. A part of him missed his old life; the hunting as well as all the friendships he had lost. There were nights when he missed it all, but mostly he missed Sam. He looked down at his phone and wondered if after all this time and all that had happened, would Castiel even be able to hear his messages, and if he did hear them, would he even answer.
His thoughts were broken as Enoch returned to the car. She was now dressed in boots, jeans, ¾ sleeved t-shirt, and toting a black jacket. Everything fit much better and Dean had a fleeting thought resembling those he had when he first clamped eyes on her.
"Feel better?"
"No, I have just been shot in the back."
"Yeah, but it didn't hurt you."
"Me no, but I can only protect my vessel so much. Since I cannot currently transit realms my healing is slowed."
"Transit realms?"
"You may have noticed times when angels seem to disappear?"
He sighed, "Yeah, I'm familiar."
"That happens when we cross the border of reality as you know it. We are able to travel vast distances in short time, and the process heals us. Unfortunately, that ability has been denied me so that I may interact with you more."
"Why would you need to interact with me?"
"Would you have trusted me if I had not?"
"I don't even know if I trust you now. But either way, if we're doing this… thing… that we're doing, you at least seem to be useful in a fight. You're a pretty tough chick."
"Chick?"
"Oh, you know, girl."
"Girl?"
"Yeah, girl. You're a girl." She looked at him blankly. "Female?"
"Oh." She looked down at herself. "That would explain much."
"I really thought I would never meet anyone more socially clueless than Cas, but here you are."
"I have never used a vessel before. So I have never been a girl before."
"Are you telling me that in Heaven with all your little angel friends you don't have male and female?"
"We do not see things the same as you. Different sexes and such… well… it is complicated. May I just say that it is an angel thing and leave it there?"
"Sure, sure, but if you never had a vessel, then how did you come to Earth before?"
"It was different then, people had more faith and could see us better, accept our presence. But now…"
"Now people go blind just by looking at you." Enoch turned to him with an incredulous expression. "That happened to a friend of mine," he explained. "Isn't that what would happen if I saw your true form or something?"
"Me? No, you would not go blind. It would most definitely drive you insane, but you would still have your sight. Every angel is different."
"This is a strange learning experience."
"For me as well, Dean Winchester."
