My life sucked, not in the sexy candlelit way either. It was more like dropping out of college, taking a job as a waitress to support your addict father type of sucked. It obviously didn't help that I was a twenty-year-old fat virgin. Some people use fat to describe themselves when they obviously only have a little bit of extra chub on their frame. That wasn't me, I was 125 pounds overweight. Now I wasn't completely cursed with bad genes as I am 5 10" so I'd like to think that I carry it well due to my height.
I work at a twenty-four-hour breakfast spot, I was on the late shift. It was 3 am and we were reaching the end of my shift. Hallelujah. Now a lot of breakfast places have alright uniforms, but in my case, they were horrendous. It was hideous and a bright red with a black apron. As a pale redhead the cardinal rule is never wear anything red, especially when it was nearly neon, it just was not a good look for my complexion.
The ironic part of my story is that I believed I was normal. I believed that I was just another college dropout with shitty parents. Turns out I was wrong. Not a huge surprise as I often am.
My head popped up when the tiny bell rang signaling the entrance of new customers. I silently prayed that it wasn't more drunk people. Since 12 am hit that was all I had been dealing with. We were fairly close to downtown, and thus fairly close to a plethora of nightclubs. They didn't look inebriated. They looked like they had been in a pretty massive brawl. There was a tall one, a short one, and a man in a trench-coat. I looked to my manager, my eyes pleading like a puppy. 'Please don't make me serve them, I wanna go home.' The greasy face teenager scowled. Fuck. I pulled three menus from the hostess stand and pasted on my best fake smile.
"Welcome to Savory and Sweet, just the three of you?" I tried to infuse as much chipper in my tone as I could. The short man grunted in agreement. "Alright follow me." I lead them to a table near to the kitchen. They slid into the booth. Talley on one side, Shorty on the other, and Trenchcoat took a seat next to him. Talley pulled out a computer from his man satchel. Welp, there goes going home soon. "What can I get you to drink?"
"Coffee for all of us," His eyes flicked to my nametag on my chest. "Cora." Shorty shot me what I supposed was a charming smile. But it was ruined by the fact that a slow trickle of blood started to ooze from his face. My eyes followed it as it traveled down his model worthy visage.
"We have a first aid kit." I offered. I looked to the other men. The Tall one was bruised but not bleeding. Trenchcoat looked completely fine. His eyes bore into my face. Oh god, his blue eyes. I had never seen any shade of blue that bright on a person in my life. Wait, wait, wait, they were glowing. It was faint, I'm sure in darkness it would be like a flashlight, but in the bright fluorescents of the restaurant to was muted. "Cool contacts, I didn't know they made glow in the dark ones." I smiled and his brows furrowed.
"A first aid kit would be great." Shorty was still smiling but he had lost his charm. The smile was now one of steel.
"Coming right up." I walked away keeping them in the corner of my eye. They had opened the menus but were clearly not reading them. They were whispering intensely, well Shorty and Talley were but Trench-Coat sat there brows furrowed, lips in a straight line.
I ducked under the counter and pulled out the well stocked first aid kit. We always needed to keep replenishing it. Drunk people weren't the most graceful. I tucked the metal bow under my arm and grabbed three mugs in one hand, and a burning hot carafe of coffee in the other. "Here we are." I set each cup in front of the men and filled each cup with the black liquid life force. "I'll leave both of these here." I set the kit down in front of Shorty. "Have you decided what you want to order?" I flipped open my notebook and grabbed a pen from the apron.
"I'll have the spinach egg white omelet." Tally smiled and started typing away on the computer.
"Sausage bacon scramble, extra bacon." I turned my attention to Trench-Coat.
"Nothing for me." His voice was a deep reverberation of warmth. It shook me to my core. I swallowed roughly and nodded.
"Coming right up." I said, my voice was unsteady and weak. I turned away quickly, frantically disappearing into the kitchen. I pulled the note with their order and clipped it onto the rotating wheel. The tired looking chef, Barty, glanced at it and started the bacon.
"Y'all right?" Barty asked as he noticed my probably pale face and shaky motions.
"Yeah, yeah. Just...You ever meet someone and you get this rush of feelings and you can't quite sort them out."
"Oooo, mama's got a crush." He danced slightly in place repeatedly singing them.
"Shut up." I groaned a flush spreading over my face. I fanned myself hoping the blush would abate and went out and took care of the rest of my tables, refilling drinks and asking the ever so annoying question of "Is everything alright?" I avoided the boy's table like the plague.
The door clinked open again, a group of five well-muscled men walked in. My manager for once got up and seated them. It was a surprise since he rarely got off his boney ass and did some work. He was perpetually glued to his phone, in a spare booth, only sweeping in when there was a large group or a really attractive guy. It was a surprise he didn't take Shorty, Talley, and Trenchcoat. They looked like they had come out of a fashion magazine. A small ding sounded from the back and I went cold. Fuck me. "Order up!" Barty shouted, and from the tone of his voice I could tell he was smiling.
I took the long way around completely bypassing their table and walking past the group of five. As I got closer to the group my skin started to crawl. There was something inherently wrong with them. I avoided their eyes and forced a smile on as I passed. Even though I wasn't looking at them I could tell they were looking at me. Their eyes bore into my back. I shook off the feeling and grabbed the plates a food from the metal shelf. I shuffled the few feet to their table.
"Here we are." I chirped. "Anything else I can get you?" I looked at each of them briefly and nearly fainted when Trench-Coat came into focus. He had wings, huge black shadowy wings. I rubbed my eyes, this had to be an exhaustion induced illusion right? They were folded into his back, but the one closest to me had outstretched into the aisle. "Neat trick." I stuttered. It had to an illusion something to do with lights perhaps? I reached out my hand and brushed the wing. Nope definitely not an illusion. It was warm and the feathers were soft. "A little early for Halloween." I laughed, but even to my ears I could tell it sounded panicked and forced.
"Cas?" Shorty asked his eyes fluttering in between my hand and his wing. "What is she talkin' about?"
"My wings, Dean." Cas replied looking even more perplexed than before. "She can see my wings." Talley spluttered on his coffee, and Dean gaped.
"How is that possible?" Talley asked reaching for the napkins on the table.
"I'm not sure. Only other angels can see them. But she is human, no special qualities about her."
"You said that special humans can sometimes understand Angel Talk.." I tuned out. These people were crazy. Legitimately nuts-o-crazio.
"Enjoy your meal." I whispered faintly and backed away slowly, keeping my eyes on them. I could feel the carpet change to tile under my feet and I knew that I was nearly in the kitchen. I shuffled one more step and I slipped. I caught myself against the wall, and I looked down. A scream erupted from my mouth and I scrambled back into the dining room. Staring at me from the opening of the kitchen was the head of Barty. His eyes were lifeless, and his mouth open in a scream that would never come. The floor was slicked with blood, and I'm sure the rest of him was by his stove.
"What is it?" Dean demanded, and they all slid out of the booth. With a shaking hand I pointed to the kitchen, and Dean took a few steps foreword and looked in. I breathed through my nose harshly, trying to calm the rising gorge in my throat. Please don't vomit. I turned to look at the other two men trying to purge the image of a severed head out of my mind. Something warm brushed my side and I jumped. Looking down I could see the black shadow of Cas's wing, he curled it momentarily before allowing it to fall closed against his back. He wasn't looking at me, in fact he was scanning the rest of the restaurant. From what I could see everyone else was still alive. The sounds of eating and conversations filled the restaurant. "Sulfur." Deans sudden reemergence made me jump. "A lot of it." The men turned serious. "We gotta go, too many of them to handle and we don't have anything but the knife, and the gun in my waistband."
"We have to call the cops." I murmured numbly. "They'll know what to do."
"We have to go. Now." Dean took me by the arm and started leading me to the front. His eyes flashed from patron to patron, looking for something. We halted when we reached the large windows at the front. He cursed. "Dammit, too late." He backpedaled back into the restaurant dining room. He put me up against the wall, and the two boys started gathering the salt off the tables. The customers looked at them in disbelief. Cas stood next to me, tensed a blade came down from his sleeve and he held it loosely in his palm. His wing's wingspan had spread across the wall. It was a pleasant heat against my back. I could feel the softness even through my clothes.
The taller man started to pour the salt in a circle around me. Shaker after shaker they emptied. That'll be a mess to clean up. My manager finally snapped out of the shock that had overcome him. His apron was dotted with blood. "He's gone!" His voice was shrill and he was pale. "Get him in the circle Sam." The tall one, Sam, grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into the circle, careful not to disturb the line of salt. Cas shifted out of the circle and began ushering some of the other patrons into the circle.
As with anything the most destructive events always start with silence.
Everyone was quite as we had been ushered. But the table, the table that I was so uneasy about had continued to eat merrily. "Dean," Cas growled, his eyes were fixed that table. "they're here." Dean pulled a gun from his waistband and with a click and pressure he shot. The bullet sliced the air and embedded itself in the skull of one of the men. I expected him to slump over, but he hardly jerked. He sat stock still and slowly turned his head.
"That wasn't nice." He said softly a slight lisp catching on the S. The windows at the front of the building suddenly shattered. Men, women, young and old, eyes black came climbing over the shattered empty window panes.
"We gotta get out of here!" A startled scantily clad woman, clearly coming from the club, exclaimed. Her equally dressed friend and the man next to them clearly agreed. They seemed to nod all together and they took off to the back. As they went they kicked the salt circle to bits. My manager gave me a look and then followed shortly behind him. The last I heard of them were their screams.
I wasn't quite sure what to do. My nerves screamed at me to follow them. Escape through the back into the night as far away from the creepy black eyed people and the man with the wings.
But my brain told me to stay with the only people that knew what the hell was going on. I flattened myself against the wall and hoped to be unnoticed. Bursts of light, and black smoke filled the restaurant. I watched as the boys threw hit after hit and took hit after hit. Sam hadn't been bleeding before but now blood was pouring down his face, Dean was just as bloody, but Cas he looked like he didn't have a mark on him. The demons, I felt silly for even thinking that that was what they were, suddenly stopped their attentions on the boys and started crowding Cas. He was easily facing five of them at once. One of them landed a blow and his shiny knife went flying. Sam and Dean were entangled in their own battles, they weren't paying attention to their friend who was just about to lose his.
My feet were moving before I registered what I was doing. One of them had the knife. It was closing in, he wasn't paying attention to the man who was approaching him from the back. He wore a wicked smile as he raised the knife. It felt like I was running through water even though I knew I was running. I knew I was breaking into a sprint. But I felt so slow. Something shifted inside of me and I was standing in the way of the blade. The shiny metal swung down and I felt my flesh part as it embedded itself in my chest. It was a down swung and instantly I couldn't breath. Then the pain, so much pain. It was a burning pain, the kind that sears your soul, the kind that you wish it would stop as soon as it started. I slumped back, I felt the softness of the feathers, warmth, and the rough fabric of a trench coat.
The fighting had stopped and black smoke drifted up and out of the restaurant, bodies hit the floor. "They're gone." Sam panted.
"The hell was that?" I could see Dead out of the corner of my eye. He tucked the gun back into his waistband. The warmth shifted and instead of a trench coat I was pressed against the soft cotton and silk of his button down and his tie. He caught me around the waist and slowly lowered me to the debris littered ground. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he squinted and he frowned deeply. "Shit." Dean exclaimed. My breath came sharply and my eyes were dotting with little black dots. Not long now.
"Can you save her?" Sam whispered and crouched low next to me. Cas's coat brushed my shoulder as he kneeled over me.
"This'll hurt." His hands closed over the blade and he I could've sworn that his eyes were brighter than before. In one great yank he pulled it free. I screamed hoarsely. If I thought getting stabbed hurt getting unstabbed hurt a thousand times more. His hands covered the wound. "Impossible." There was another burning in my chest, this time it was more like a sunburn rather than a sear. His hands reached to the collar of my shirt and ripped it clean down the middle. I wanted to reach up and cover myself but I couldn't find the energy.
"The hel-Holy shit." Dean came closer. "You're not doing that."
"No, Dean I am not." Cas said matter of factly.
"Wha...what..is it?" I gasped. I looked down. My flesh was knitting itself together. I met the black.
I was gently rocking, up and down every so often. I groaned. The blanket covering me was rough, not as soft as the one that I had on my bed at home. My eyes struggled open and I squinted at the bright light. The roof above me was tan and curved. I tilted my head and sat up straight. There was a sudden influx of air and a started groan and gasp escaped my throat. I pulled the fabric back up. I wasn't wearing a shirt, just a bra. Not a dream. Sam and Dean sat in front, Dean behind the wheel. I was in a car, a moving car. The scenery flying past wasn't the desert that I was used to. Tall pines and lush greenery surrounded us.
"Back from the dead." Dean's eyes peered at me from the rear view mirror.
"Where am I? What the fuck happened? Where's your freaky winged friend? Where the fucking fuck are you taking me?" By the end of my rampage, I was shrill. I tucked the fabric under my arms as I gestured wildly.
"Whoa, whoa." Sam turned in his seat facing me head on. "It wasn't safe there, they demons," he motioned to his eyes. "think you're dead, not much survives the blade you were stabbed with. As for where we are, we're about an hour away from Kansas." I gaped at him. How long was I out? Phoenix to Kansas, that's a day maybe more of driving. "You've been asleep for at least 24 hours."
"What, why-" I stammered.
"Were they after you?" Dean interjected. "The winged freak is off trying to find out." He grinned at me through the mirror. "I expect he also wants his coat back, he should check in anytime now." My nearly bare back thumped against the worn leather seat. I was glad I had chosen a sturdy bra that morning. An ugly, old, vaguely gray sturdy bra. The type of bra your grandma wears. They all had the privilege of seeing me in that bra. I felt the flush all the way to my bones. My body was on display for men that looked better than me even bloodied up. Don't get me wrong, I liked my body most days. It was lumpy and large, crisscrossed with pale pink marks that resembled lightning. But the only people I had showed my body to in years was my Doctor and that one guy who I bailed on when we got too hot and heavy.
At my feet there was a beat up cooler. My stomach grumbled, god I was hungry. I bent over and flipped open the cooler. It was filled with beer and half-melted ice. Great, raging alcoholics. I thumped it close. I cleared my throat. "Any chance i could get a shirt?" Dean chuckled.
"Cas really did tear that shirt to shreds." His eyes peered through the mirror. "You must be something special to get him so hot and bothered." He laughed again at his own joke.
"Dean!" Sam exclaimed elbowing him in the side
"What?!" Dean held up his hands in mock surrender. Sam turned around again.
"We'll stop soon, I've got a spare shirt. Bet you're hungry." My stomach growled again. He smiled. "There's a diner a few miles away, we'll stop there." Dean started to grumble, Sam nudged him again.
I took a breath. "After I passed out what happened?"
"Well, your skin did that freaky thing and then we cut you with silver, doused you with holy water and then some borax just in case." Dean said nonchalantly and then clicked on the radio to some classic rock.
"What my brother means to say is that we checked to make sure you weren't anything dangerous. Then Castiel carried you out of there to the car. We've been driving ever since." There was a slight flutter beside me.
"You called?" I jumped at the sudden onset of the gravely voice and Dean swerved muttering expletives all the while. I pressed myself flush against the car door looking at the man who had just teleported into a moving car. Dressed in only a blue rumpled suit he didn't resemble the man, no wait angel (right?), that I had seen effortlessly fighting the demons last night. He certainly didn't look as intimidating without the coat that I was using as a makeshift cover up.
"Jesus Cas!" Dean exclaimed. "You need a fricken bell."
"You called?" He repeated again, same tone of voice, same expression. I couldn't help but stare at the wings crowding the small space. I could see right through the shadowy black impressions. I reached my hand up and caressed the downy soft feathers. I could feel them, it was strange I couldn't see much detail but I could feel every groove and divot in them. I could feel the individual feathers; they were like velvet. The wing twitched. I drew my hand away from them. He was looking straight at me. The glow of his eyes wasn't as pronounced in the sunlight, but they made the blue of his iris's stand out even more.
"Sorry." I whispered. I clasped my hands together in my lap. He still stared. "I'm sure you want your jacket back, um, Sam said he has a shirt for me, uh, when we stop I'll give it back." He tilted his head, his eyes felt like they were boring into my face.
"Dude," He pried his gaze away to follow Dean's voice. "don't stare at a lady like that."
"Like what?" Cas asked frowning.
"Like she's an animal at the zoo." His frown deepened.
"You all are animals, but I see no cages. She is quite free."
What the hell was this guy?
Dean blew out a breath. "All I mean Cas is that it freaks people out." Cas nodded an expression of thoughtfulness crossing his face. "Any news Cas?"
"The legions of hell know she isn't dead. My brothers and sisters are curious, only because the demons are restless."
"Why are they after her?" Sam asked.
"I do not know." Cas's words hung heavily in the air. "I imagine it has something to due with her healing powers."
I swallowed through the lump of panic in my throat. His wings twitched again, this time I could feel the warmth brush up against my bare shoulder. "I don't know what it is." I said softly. "It's never happened before. I've never met those people, demons," I amended. "or seen anyone with wings and glowy eyes."
"I may be able to help." Cas offered. I looked into his face he looked nothing but earnest, if but a little kind. I took a deep breath and nodded giving him a small smile. He raised his hand and pressed two fingers to my temple and closed his eyes. It felt slightly warm like I had just finished blow drying my hair. With his eyes closed, I could focus on the man himself. He was a few inches taller than myself, from what I could remember from the diner. His hair was dark and his cheekbones stood prominent on his face. The corners of his eyes were slightly indented with wrinkles and his lips were full. He had stubble framing them. He was gorgeous, I know traditionally men are considered handsome, or attractive, but he was every embodiment of the word. Sonnets would be written about that face.
His hand dropped from my temple. He opened his eyes and his brow furrowed. "Sonnets?" It was the type of embarrassment that feels like your throat is closing because you can't really breathe because of the shock. My face was beet red and I just want to through the jacket covering me over my entire head.
Thank god for Sam because he chose the moment to interrupt. "Anything Cas?"
"No, nothing remarkable about her childhood. Her father injects himself a lot, perhaps that had something to do with it?" This time around it was an uncomfortably heavy silence. I wanted to hide, I wanted to get out of this car, away from him. The brothers are fine, but the pretty package and amazing wings seemed to lack a whole hell of a lot of tact. He seemed to say all the right things to strip me bare at my core.
Pressure built in my head and I screwed my eyes shut, a slight moan escaped my mouth and I rubbed at my forehead. Wind brushed against my back. My eyes immediately opened. Holy fucking fuck.
I wasn't in the car anymore.
I was in the middle of a forest. Tall trees surrounded me at all sides. I shivered slightly and the drop in temperature. "Where the hell am I?" I muttered and pulled the coat away from me to shove my arms through the holes. I was thankful that it fit, albeit a little tight around my chest and my pudgy belly. I was able to do up a few buttons, covering the flesh of my stomach and hiding my blood-stained bra. But beyond that, it was cleavage central.
I was glad my shoes had sturdy soles since the terrain was so uneven. My eyes kept scanning the forest, searching for any sign of movement. "Hello?" I called out. I paused, listening for an answer. "Sam, Dean, Ca—"
"My dear girl." I spun around. A woman dressed in a gray gown that brushed the forest floor stood behind me. Her red hair was done in an up do and a black flower was clipped to her curls. She took a few steps foreword and I took a few back. There was an ethereal glow around her, a yellow kind of aura that was tinged with tendrils of gray. Her pretty face frowned. "Don't you recognize me?" I looked her up and down. Never in my life had I ever seen her. I shook my head. "Surely you must, I've sent photos, gifts, I visited when you were young." I shook my head again. "Oh dear." She breathed and wrung her hands together. She put an obviously forced smile on her face. "My name is Persephone."