All that I had left of my wings was a single, solitairy feather. I found it, oddly enough. It just landed on the floor of the warehouse, next to my hand. I felt it brush my shackled hand and in a flash I knew it was mine, so I grabbed it. Let me explain something first. I am no angel. I have never, ever been to Heaven, not even a town with that name. Yet I do... Did have wings. I'm human, but with an extra feature, so to speak. No, no-one knew about it. They could not be seen, not even by me. But I felt them, used them and gotten used to them. And now they were gone. Not that it mattered much, the wounds that the removal of my extra feature had ruptured, were bleeding me out rappidly. Unbidden, a prayer formed in my mind. I'm not religious, never have been. As far as I knew the angel I was starting to pray to, only existed in books. I guess bleeding out makes ones brain turn to putty. 'Castiël, angel of Thursday, please help me. I.. I'm dying. My wings are torn off, and.. and.. I.. I.. I just wish I knew why...'
I heard wings flapping. From my position, on my knees, hands and feet chained to the warehouse floor so they could easily get to my wings, I couldn't see what bird it was though it probably was a pigeon. Jealous, I thought 'Must be nice, being a pigeon. No-one to come in and just rip off your limbs.' When I heard a deep, gravelly voice, I thought I must be hallucinating. "Oh no... You weren't lying! How did you get in this situation?" I could barely lift my head, but I tried. When I could see who the voice belonged to, I couldn't help it. Despite my agony, I laughed. It sounded wheezed and weak, but I freaking laughed. "Oh my...you even... have... a trenchcoat..." The darkhaired head tilted to the side adorably. "Yes, I do.. I am uncertain as to why this is of import, but it apparently is to you. I think it might be better if we save you." We? Running feet echoed through the empty warehouse.
From my place on the floor I saw tho pairs of scuffed bikerboots stomp into view. "Cas... Oh crap! Can't you heal her?" A deep, gruff voice, though not as deep as the first voice. A thud next to my head. A pair of knees in tatty, faded jeans had hit the floor next to my shackled hands. "Here, let me get those..." a soft voice soothingly said. Then it got a little louder, but not angry, rather worried if I, in my weakened state, was any judge. "Cas, get to healing, please... She's bleeding out!" Two fingers were pressed against my forehead, and from the point they touched a tingling feeling spread through my battered body and concentrated mainly around my shoulderblades. It felt warm, comforting and very, very nice. The burning, pulsating agony of my torn wings eased and dulled to a throbbing, akin to a scraped knee. Then the pain just faded away. I tried moving my back. It felt fine, apart from the unnatural light feeling. After years of carrying the weight of my wings, my body felt unbalanced and weird.
The long, nimble fingers that had been working on my shackles brushed the soft skin that came free. "Dean, how are the ankles coming? I'd like to get out of here." More fingers brushing my ankles. "Damn it, Sammy... I'm working fast as I can." the deep, gruff voice replied. "Those asshats used the rustiest shackles in the world, besides, they put a iron rod in the hollows of her knees through which the chains run. I'm afraid I might hurt her if I accidently yank them." My head swam. I must still be hallucinating. Sam, Dean, Cas... My absolute favorite characters from my absolute favorite bookseries. "She will be ok, Dean. I healed her completely, so the abrasions and bruising from said rod are gone." I shook my head. If dying meant you stopped feeling pain, and hallucinated your favorite characters, I was all for it. Warm, slender hands pulled me in an upright position. "C'mon, fight this off. Cas healed you, you should be fine." I opened my eyes and stared into the dreamiest hazel eyes, set in a sweet, handsome face. One of the slender hands released me to run through the shoulderlength, darkblonde hair. "Oh my Chuck." I breathed. "But you're not real!"