Author's note: So, this is the first one shot for the 46 series I've gotten around to writing. I'm sorry it has taken so long, but my master's thesis is seriously kicking my butt right now.

The one shots will be in no particular order, with a little note at the start to let you know when it takes place. Yes, you can request to see one shots about particular people or a particular time in their lives, but I cannot give any guarantees that anything in particular will be written.

Also, Treeni will contribute her own one shots, so watch out for the author's notes to tell you who has written any particular chapter, if it matters to you. We're both awesome though, so it shouldn't matter too much. ;-)

[Takes place shortly before the beginning of "Attack of the 46 inch Winchester", the very last part takes place after chapter 26 of "46 Days Later" (after the talk between Adam and Tarot about Tarot's broken wings)]

Daniel wouldn't go as far as to say he was a good guy, but he wasn't the worst he could be either. Sure, he was toeing the line of legality regularly and sometimes took a step or two over it, but petty crimes were hardly comparable to the monstrous things other people got up to. It wasn't like Dan murdered old ladies in their sleep. If anything, he stole some money from their purses while helping them cross the street and he only did that if he really needed money.

As a general rule, Dan stuck to legal methods as much as possible. Why steal money to pay the bills when a pair of tight jeans and a charming smile got him all the drinks he wanted without the risk of getting busted by the police? It wasn't like he needed a lot to be happy, the aforementioned drinks -handed out by barkeepers who didn't care about age limits too much- and the fact that his parents couldn't be bothered to question whatever he got up to as long as he didn't ask them for money were enough for him most days.

A couple of months earlier Daniel hadn't returned home for a solid five days, spending the nights with his friends and the one or the other conquest respectively, just to test how little his parents really cared about his whereabouts. They never even mentioned his absence. There was no use ruining the nice buzz he had managed to build up with the help of a few ladies who were all too happy to buy him drinks as long as he kept flirting with them with thoughts of the old asshole and his trophy wife.

The night was still young and there were a few more bars where nobody bothered to card him anymore. All in all, it was a good evening for Dan. It was nearly a pity that he probably wasn't going to remember too much of it the next day.

At least, it was a good evening until a bald guy grabbed Dan's shoulder. Daniel's first instinct was to yank his shoulder free, throw a punch, kick or even scream if he had to, but that seemed like an overreaction. The guy looked like a business man who had wandered into the wrong part of town, or the right part of town, but had chosen the wrong person to make contact with.

Baldy, as Dan had started to think of the guy, made it pretty clear that he had in fact the wrong person the moment he started to talk. "I have a proposition for you."

"Sorry, dude, I'm really not that desperate." The words left Daniel's lips before he managed to think them through, but he had the good grace to add a nearly apologetic smile and shrug just a moment later. He didn't want to provoke a fight and it wasn't like he didn't let people pay him -indirectly- for being friendly to them. Just not the kind of friendly Baldy apparently was after.

"This entire affair has already taken much longer than it had any right to, so I'm just going to tell you exactly what I expect you to do and you will comply. You only have to say yes and this will be over before you know it," the bald man stated without showing any regard for Dan's statement, "So, good boys say what?"

"Let me go before I scream bloody murder," Dan spat, already thinking of all the strategic points he could ram his knee into if Baldy didn't cut the crap, "Oh, and fuck you very much."

As much as Daniel usually liked the fact that nobody around these parts of town gave much of a crap for law and order, he wished that it was more likely that somebody would see his predicament and actually do something about it.

The bald man groaned annoyed, before he shrugged and stated, "Nobody takes the easy way anymore."

The statement was creepy enough by itself given the circumstances, but something about the way the man said it in combination with the look he gave Daniel made his blood freeze instantly. Maybe he should have just said yes to whatever the guy wanted -What was one more memory to drink away?- but the greater part of Dan was too stubborn to give in like that. If Baldy thought he could get Daniel to comply easily -or at all- he was sorely mistaken!

Zachariah had never been too fond of humanity, but he had to admit that there had been times when they were at least god-fearing enough to know how to treat angels with the respect they deserved. Once upon a time all Zachariah would have had to do was to tell the human he was the vessel for an angel and the boy would have been happy to say yes. Zachariah surely wouldn't have had to bring him to a remote location and spend hours convincing a measly human to do his goddamn duty!

"Once more, you insolent brat," Zachariah said, barely concealing his impatience and growing annoyance anymore, "Good boys say what?"

It was easy enough to tell that the human wanted to say anything other than yes, but it seemed like Zachariah finally managed to beat most of the fight out of him. Not that any literal beating had taken place. Getting his hands dirty on a mere human like that really was beneath Zachariah. There were so much he could do to stubborn children without laying a finger on them. The human had insisted to learn that the hard way.

Zachariah was already thinking of the next way to persuade the human to cooperate when the boy suddenly started to shiver violently, his shoulders slumping completely. "Yes."

It took a long time before Tarot became aware enough of his surroundings to realize what it was that cut through the haze he was lost in for however long it had been. The moment the angel realized that he had no idea how much time he had lost, he panicked and nearly blacked out again.

The one thing that kept Tarot grounded, if only barely, was the steady ticking of a clock. Time was still passing as it should, the seconds were ticking by as they always were, not everything was broken, no matter how much it felt like things were damaged beyond repair.

Slowly the ticking of the clock became clear enough for Tarot to realize that he was in some kind of clock tower. There was something soothing about being surrounded by the auditory and, when Tarot turned his head to see the cogs moving, visual representation of time passing.

For a moment, Tarot allowed the ticking of the clock to sweep him away to a time when everything still made sense, when all that was expected of him was to keep an eye on the passing of time, before Zachariah...

Tarot's mouth opened for a scream that never came the moment everything came flooding back to him. Zachariah's plans for the Winchesters, the wrongness of it all... How Tarot tried to explain, then beg, then simply resist... How Zachariah set out to get Tarot a vessel so he could cast the spell after his last resistance broke... The wish to simply get away from Zachariah, never be in the hands of the other angel again... Just get away from Tarot's own betrayal of his most sacred principles. Time moved forward, not back. Except for the Winchesters, because Tarot was not strong enough to keep resisting, because he was not strong enough to keep saying no so his vessel never had to make the decision.

The angel curled in on himself without making the conscious decision to do so. Tarot's attempts to wrap his vessel up in his grace, offer whatever comfort and healing he could, remained futile. It was impossible to say if Tarot's grace or the human's soul was too frayed to hold on to the other. Quite possibly they both were.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, so sorry. Please... p-please... forgive... me," Tarot mumbled over and over, trying to concentrate on the words enough so they would infiltrate every fiber of his being and maybe reach his vessel.

The answer never came.

Adam awoke with a start.

"Terry? You good?" Adam asked, clearly worried. It was unusual to say the least for the angel to just walk into Adam's room -or more like Bobby's guest room- even more unusual for him to do it in the middle of the night. Something had to be seriously wrong, not that that was hard to see once Adam turned on the bedside lamp and got a good look at his friend's face.

"N... n... no," Tarot whispered. The angel was a little surprised that he managed to form any words, even if it was just one comprised of two letters. It surely helped that Adam spent a lot of time speaking to Tarot ever since Adam decided to stay at Bobby's. At least the angel didn't think he would have managed to force even that short word to come over his lips only a couple of weeks ago.

"Hey, it's okay," Adam replied in a soothing tone as he swung his legs over the side of the bed to sit up.

"I mean, I get that it's not okay right now, but... just c'mere," Adam added after a moment of consideration, patting the spot next to him on the bed. Tarot was shaking enough to make it look like he might just collapse any moment. Hopefully sitting down would do him some good.

It took a moment before Tarot could get his feet to move again and it seemed like ages until he could sit down next to Adam, but somehow it became easier to breathe the moment his friend put his arm around his shoulders.

They sat in silence for a while, before the urge to speak returned to Tarot. He came to Adam's room to tell his friend something, not that Tarot was sure if he would manage to do it. "D... D... D..."

"No rush, just take your time," Adam stated, keeping his tone light and comforting, "I'm here to listen and if it takes all night that's okay."

Tarot nodded erratically and took a few deep breaths.

"D-Dan was... wasn't... a good guy, b-b-but he did... didn... didn't... deserve this."