Author's Note: Ideally, you should read Book 1 (Angles, Angels Everywhere) before reading this. If you've already read Book 1, you might want to recap by scanning the last chapter. I've been a little remiss with my Supernatural publishing of late.

Fallen

Book 2: Knott in Need

Chapter 1

- Visionary -

The street was named Main Street. Avariel didn't know which town it was in, but it didn't matter. She looked around, examining the shop fronts, and selected the store named Kennedy's Antiques. She had observed over the years that many antique sellers were friendly little old men. Just the type of person she needed right now.

She entered the shop and a bell above the door chimed merrily – of course. Inside, the building was full of old things; chairs, clocks, vases, rugs, items of jewelry in glass cases, myriad odds and ends of differing values. These 'antiques', as humans called them, were the possessions of previous generations. To humans, they were old things, but to Avariel, they were barely worth looking at. They would be gone in a blink of her heavenly eyes, leaving nothing behind but dust. Even now they gave off a musty smell of age which tickled the nose of her vessel. Yet despite their age, they were little more than the toys and trinkets of a child-race. There was nothing here that was anywhere near as old as Ava herself.

"Hello there, young lady," said a cheerful voice. The man behind the counter had white hair and wore a woollen sweater. He peered at her from behind wire-rimmed glasses. "Can I help you?"

Avariel smiled, not only because she had been correct in her guess about the nature of the proprietor, but because of his words. Had he known what she truly was, he would have fallen to his knees and praised her name. It was a surprisingly pleasing thought, and she quickly pushed it away. She didn't want humans to praise her. She wanted them to praise God. She had to remember the bigger picture. She had a mission to complete; God's mission, and her own. She had already taken out an insurance policy against Heavenly interference. Now, she had real work to do.

"Good morning, sir," she said, because she had observed that people in general responded best to politeness. "I'm sorry to bother you like this, but I need to contact my brother regarding urgent family business, and I wondered if I could use your telephone to make a brief call."

"Heh, I thought all you kids these days had cell phones?" he chuckled.

"I am different. Cell phones are an invasion of privacy, and I do not like being at the beck and call of everybody who has my number. Unfortunately, an emergency has arisen, and I find myself in need of a telephone."

"Hmm. Well, in that case, of course you can use my phone."

He slid the handset across the counter, and she dialled the sequence of numbers taught to her by Bartholomew. The numbers she had remembered above all else, upon leaving Heaven. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. Then, a man's voice answered.

"Hello?"

"It's Avariel," she said. "I have a human body, now. Where should I meet you?"

"How do I know it's really you? Do you have the pass-phrase?"

"The dove has flown the nest," she replied promptly.

"Good. I'm at the Masonic Hotel in New York. Penthouse suite. Come now. Don't be followed."

"Of course. I will be in New York in less than thirty seconds."

The line clicked off, and Avariel handed the phone back to the antiques man. He was staring at her with his mouth open, with one of those looks on his face that suggested he thought she was a lunatic.

"Thank you for the use of your telephone," she told him. "God appreciates your assistance in this matter. You walk with his blessing."

She teleported immediately, arriving in an empty elevator inside the Masonic Hotel. The button for the top floor was dark, so she pressed it, and it lit up with a small glow. She smiled to herself. She was starting to get the hang of this 'mortal' stuff. It wasn't all as difficult as she'd thought it would be, but of course, she had her vessel's input as well.

When she reached the top floor, and found the door to the penthouse, she paused for a moment, readying herself. She had been waiting for this moment since she had left Heaven. Since before she had left Heaven, even. This was the main reason why she was here. She knocked on the door, and after a few seconds it was opened by a buxom blonde woman wearing nothing but a skimpy leopard-print bikini. Briefly, Ava engaged what Dean called her 'Watcher-vision', and saw the woman for what she really was; an illusion made flesh. Not a real human at all.

"Take me to your leader," she said, and was amused by her own joke.

The woman opened the door wide to allow Avariel entrance, and then the door was closed behind her. The room she found herself in was sumptuous, all mahogany and silk. A bottle of expensive wine was open on the sideboard, next to a chocolate fountain and a pile of marshmallows. At first Avariel thought she was alone, then she saw the man on the bed, wrapped in a gold silk dressing gown. Another of the scantily clad women was caressing his hair fondly.

"So, you made it," he said, propping himself up to look at her. His floppy brown hair reminded her a little of Sam, though she could see that he wasn't anywhere near as tall as the youngest Winchester. "Nice vessel. Virgin, right?"

"Yes," she said, examining the man in front of her a little more closely. There was nothing outstanding about him; he was of average height and average appearance, though his hazel eyes were pleasant enough. He was not what she had been expecting to see. She had always thought that her master would have gone for something a little more... upmarket.

"Good choice. You're going to have a lot of fun with that one." He clapped his hands and sat up. Both of the illusionary women disappeared, though the wine and the chocolate fountain remained. Avariel suspected the women would make a reappearance later, when she was gone. "Tell me everything."

"Where would you like me to start?" she asked. There was rather a lot for her to talk about.

"With why it took you so damn long to get here. I was beginning to worry that Michael had turned you to his cause." The look he gave her was one of suspicion, and it hurt her a little to see it in his eyes. It was not entirely unexpected, though, and she was used to the mistrust by now. Other angels mistrusted her, and the few humans she'd met so far hadn't exactly been throwing their trust at her either.

"Of course not, Gabriel," she said. "I was simply delayed by events outside my control. I am loyal to you. I always have been, and you will have my loyalty until the end of time."

"I'm sure." He sat up and looked closely at her. Avariel resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably; she did not enjoy being scrutinised by an arch-angel, even if he was her master. "Who else are you loyal to?"

"God, of course, even above you," she said without hesitation. "And I have also sworn an oath of obedience to Bobby Singer."

"You swore yourself to a drunken crippled hunter?"

"It was necessary," she assured him. "The Winchesters and Castiel trapped me in a circle of holy fire."

"Yes, those mooks have a nasty habit of doing that," he scowled.

"Swearing an oath of obedience to Bobby was the best way of earning their trust. Would you have preferred me to swear such an oath to Dean, or heavens forbid, Sam?"

"God, no," he replied with an exaggerated shiver of horror. "Well, what's done is done. At least tell me you're still keeping an eye on their pet angel."

"Two, in fact." She let her eyes change back to their normal silver colour for a moment, before they became Katie's blue ones once more.

"Good." He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Word on the grapevine is you kicked Zach's ass all the way back to heaven."

"The spell worked as planned, and the sword helped," she admitted. "Thank you for leaving it where I could find it."

"Where is it now?"

"Somewhere safe," she said with a smile.

"Ahh. So that's how it's going to be, is it?" He gave her a look that was slightly approving, though whether he approved of her thinking for herself or the gall she showed in standing up to him, she did not know.

"I may have further use for it. If you ask for it back I will retrieve it for you immediately, of course," she replied truthfully. Both the spell and the sword had been Gabriel's idea; he had told her how to cast the incantation, as well as retrieved the Sword of Damocles for her. She had been able to leave that part out, when recounting where it had come from to Bobby, Castiel and the Winchesters.

He gave her a long look of speculation, then shrugged. "Keep it, for the moment. Like you said, you may find it useful. Now, tell me what you intend to do about my Plan."

"For the moment, nothing. They are going their own way, doing what they feel is necessary. I have been tasked by Bobby with helping the humans of this planet, protecting them from the fallout of this apocalypse and saving them from themselves in general, so I intend to do that for a while. I have already saved a child from being run over by a bus, and saved a pod of whales from being killed by whalers. I have exorcised several demons and put a ghost to rest. I seem to have an... affinity... for this role. I am considering becoming a hunter."

"Really? You? A hunter?" There was deep skepticism in his eyes. And humour. Rather a lot of it, in fact.

"Why not?"

"I didn't think you'd like the lifestyle. Always on the move, always lonely, putting your life in danger all the time. Having to put up with other knuckle-head hunters. You've seen the calibre of person that the job attracts. Wouldn't you rather stay with me?"

She gave his request a long moment of consideration. Ever since he had entered his voluntary exile, he had been cut off from other angels, speaking only to Bartholomew, and then herself, and only infrequently. Whether he was lonely she did not know; could arch-angels even get lonely? He at least seemed to be capable of entertaining himself, if the women and the chocolate fountain were anything to go by. But he wanted to return to Heaven; that was why he had come up with The Plan in the first place. For as long as his brothers fought each other, he couldn't return. He hated the conflict, hated the arguments, and dreaded being forced to pick sides. He loved his older brothers equally... and was irritated by them equally, too. She would do anything within her power to help him... and if that meant staying by his side, keeping him company and serving his every whim, she would do it. He was the reason she was here. Bartholomew had started the grigori rebellion for him. Avariel had continued it for him. And he had made it possible, through a conveniently planted loophole in the Decree, for her to come to Earth and take a vessel. Those in Heaven may have labelled her 'traitor', 'rebel' and 'fallen', but in her heart she still served God, and she was all that was left of the Order of Gabriel.

"I suspect there is much you can teach me," she replied, "and if you instruct me to stay, I will."

"Hmm." He subjected her to a very long scrutinising stare. She was very proud that she did not fidget under his gaze. Then, he waved his hand dismissively. "Nah. You go. You've got that look about you. The pious 'I want to help the humans' look, and I'd only hold you back from doing that. Can I offer you a piece of advice, though?"

"Please do."

"Hide what you are," he said. "Humans like the Winchesters and their allies accept that angels exist because they have first-hand experience of the supernatural. The rest of them, however, will not be so open-minded. Humans tend to fear what they don't understand, and they're in constant need of answers. If they find out what you are, they'll expect you to have answers, and they will get angry if you don't have those answers. If they find out what you are, they'll expect you to help them constantly, and if you don't help them, they will get violent, and then you'll be forced to hurt them. Save yourself that trouble. Try to pass as a human, if you can. Do nothing to raise suspensions. It will be better for everyone."

"I see."

It was not what she'd had in mind when Bobby had told her to help people. Surely she could do more good by being herself and working in the name of God, couldn't she? After all, that was one of the main reasons she was here. Humans were losing their beliefs, and she needed to reassure them that the heavenly Father did exist, even if she had no idea where he was, even if he no longer cared for Earth or Heaven.

"Ah well, you'll figure it out in time, I'm sure. You will keep me apprised of any changes with the Winchesters?"

"Of course, Gabriel." She hesitated for a moment. She knew that their meeting was coming to an end, and she did not know how long it would be before they could meet again. There was something she wanted to talk to him about, but she wasn't sure how he would take it. She was, after all, just a grigori.

He seemed to sense her reticence. "Spit it out," he said.

"I would like to save Sam and Dean Winchester," she said firmly.

"Oh. Developed a soft spot for them, have we? Was it Dean's rugged good looks, or Sam's pleading puppy-dog eyes that did it?"

"Neither. I just feel... protective... of them."

Gabriel shrugged. "I honestly don't know if they can be saved. I have nothing against it, of course. If our plan can be carried out, and Michael and Lucifer trapped without killing or trapping those two hairless monkeys, that's fine by me. Give it a try, if you like. I won't stop you."

"Thank you," she said, bowing low.

"Yes, yes. My mercy knows no limits." He clicked his fingers and the two illusionary women reappeared. "Now, you'll have to excuse me. I was in the middle of something before you arrived. Have you got a cell phone yet?"

"No, and I have no desire to possess one," she said curtly.

"No need to be snippy. I'll summon you the old fashioned way if I need you, then."

"As you wish."

She teleported away without a destination in mind, and found herself standing at the top of the Empire State building. It was empty, too windy for visitors to be outside today, but to Avariel, the wind was invigorating. Up here, high above the ground, she could close her eyes and almost feel as if she was close to Heaven. She took a deep breath, enjoying the feeling of fresh air in the lungs of her vessel, and she thought back to everything that had happened to her over the past couple of weeks.

Was Gabriel right? Was she really better off posing as a human? She wanted to believe him, but at the same time, she felt that she needed to find the best way for herself. Passing as a human, she would be limited in what she could do. What was the point in having superior abilities, if she did not use those abilities to help people? Perhaps a little discretion was required. Perhaps some people, those who were open-minded enough to believe in angels, might cope with the knowledge of who she was.

For now, she had to find somewhere to start. She engaged her Watcher-vision once more, and scanned a few places with her omnipresent eyes. Something caught her attention. A man was reading a newspaper, an article about an unnatural drought which had struck a farming community in Kansas. This definitely looked like fallout from the apocalypse. Without water, the people, their animals and their crops would die. The countryside would become an infertile wasteland. She had to do something about this.

o - o - o - o - o

Knott was a small town in Ford County, Kansas, population around five-hundred. Its main produce was corn, and at the height of harvest season the fields were turned into a sea of yellow-gold. It was not harvest season yet, but the fields should have been green with slowly ripening plants. Instead, however, they were brown, as the corn continued to wither and die. The soil was parched, crumbly, too easily blown by the wind, and the irrigation ditches were collapsing as they dried out. It had not rained here for weeks; the lake which provided drinking water for the town and irrigation for the fields was at half its capacity. There were signs around the town declaring water austerity measures; people were no longer allowed to wash their cars or use water for their gardens. It had to be conserved.

Nina Charles walked the dusty road into town, her sneakers coated in a layer of greyish brown. She wore a blue and white cotton dress, and a light linen jacket over it despite the heat. Apart from the bag she carried on her back, which contained a change of clothes and a pair of sturdy black boots, they were her only worldly possessions. Nina Charles was just a name Ava had come up with, and she was pleased with it. So far she had only ever been Avariel or Katie, but she knew from watching the Winchesters that sometimes it was best to protect your identity by pretending to be someone else.

That was one of the reasons she had picked up the change of clothes. She had come up with a plan, and for that she needed to be more like Katie. More like a good, wholesome, Christian girl, and less like a denim-wearing fallen grigori. She wasn't sure how good the plan truly was, but as she intended to help the people here, she might as well try to restore some belief in her father at the same time. Right?

On the walk into town she had observed the dying fields of corn, and it brought back memories. She had watched something like this once before, thousands of years ago, along the banks of the River Nile. There, a man named Joseph, a Prophet of the Lord, had foreseen a terrible famine lasting seven years, and had advised the rulers of the land on how to survive the barren years. There would be no Prophet, this time, and it wasn't an entire land that was in danger; just a single town. But that didn't make it any less important to Ava.

When she reached the first of the buildings of the town, she stepped onto the sidewalk, and looked around for a moment. In some ways, Knott reminded her of home. Or rather, Katie's home. It had a comfortable small-town feeling about it which brought a smile to her lips. Inside her head, Katie stirred briefly, expressing a desire to see her family, but Ava merely told the girl to be at peace, and Katie fell into the role of silent observer once more.

A few cars were on the road, and the shops seemed to be doing a brisk trade despite the almost unbearable heat. The people who met each other on the streets greeted each other, not always warmly, but in a way that told Ava this was quite a tight community. As she continued walking down the street, she looked at the shopfronts. Convenience store, grocer, baker, café, bar, clothes shop... the town seemed to have everything it needed to be self-sufficient. She even spotted a small veterinary surgery, which made Katie stir briefly again.

At last she found what she was looking for; a white building set back from the road, a wooden cross upon its roof declaring it a house of God. She looked both ways before crossing the road, then made her way to the church entrance. A board outside the door listed a schedule of upcoming events, mostly prayer services and community social group meetings. At this time of the day—almost three o'clock—the doors were open but there was nobody in sight. Ava climbed the three steps and entered the building, immediately feeling an air of peace pass over her as she crossed the threshold of the building. A true house of God was imbued with the faith of those who worshipped inside it. It was that faith which kept out all but the strongest of demons, and made churches an ideal place of refuge in times of need.

The benches were empty, so Ava chose one in the middle of the room, and took a seat. She had never prayed to God before, because praying was mostly a human thing, but she was cut off from Heaven now, and completely alone. She had no idea if her Father was watching her, or even if he knew that she existed at all, but she wanted him to know that at least one angel had not lost faith. That she was going to do whatever it took to keep walking the path he had set out for her brothers and sisters, so long ago. She closed her eyes, and prayed.

Father, she thought, I don't know what you want me to do. I don't even know if you are listening to me. But I want you to know that I am here. I am going to do everything I can to stop the apocalypse. If that is not meant to be, then I'm sure it will not come to pass. But I can't sit by and watch as the world burns because your most beloved sons are too stupid and arrogant to see how wrong they both are. I hope that I'm doing the right thing. I don't expect you to answer this prayer... I just want you to know that I still believe in you.

When she opened her eyes she found that she was no longer alone. A priest, sporting a white collar beneath his black shirt, was watching her from beside the font at the front of the church, his arms folded across his chest. His hair was greying, and his face was starting to show his years, but she guessed him to be no older than fifty. His brown eyes took in her appearance, and he made his way to the bench where she was sitting.

"Hello there," he said, offering a smile that was friendly but guarded. "I hope I didn't disturb you."

"I was finished with my prayer," she replied.

"I don't recognise you as one of my usual flock. Are you new to town?"

"Yes. My name is Nina Charles," she said, offering her hand to the man.

"Reverend Henry Woodward," he replied, shaking her proffered hand. "Have you been in town long?"

"No, I just arrived."

He chuckled. "And the first thing you did was come here?"

"I was told to come here," she said, and hoped her Father would forgive her for lying in a place of worship. "Reverend, there is something I need to talk to you about, and it may sound like blasphemy to you, but I need you to keep an open mind."

"Well, I might be a stuffy old priest, but I like to think I have a mind that's fairly open," he smiled. "What's on your mind, Nina?"

She shuffled up on the bench and invited him to sit down, which he did. When she spoke again, it was hesitantly, as she tried to mimic how a frightened young woman might feel. "I... think I've had a vision," she said, looking straight into his brown eyes, impressing her conviction onto him with her own gaze. "I heard a voice inside my head. The voice... it claimed to be an angel of the Lord. It said that God knows how this town is suffering, and He has seen that people here are starting to lose faith. He wants to help, but He needs people to have faith in Him again. The voice said that if people come to church this Sunday and pray to God, a miracle will happen, and the town will be saved."

He did not look at all convinced by her words. In fact, his brown eyes had taken on something of a worried cast, and his posture spoke of tension.

"Where did you say you were from?" he asked.

"I didn't."

"And is... hearing voices... something that happens to you a lot?"

"No. I know what you're thinking," she said, not needing any sort of telepathy to read the man's mind. "I'm not crazy. I've never been in a mental hospital, and never taken any medication for hallucinations. Before coming here, I was just a normal college student. I went to church every week with my family and I grew up on a farm. I don't have delusions of grandeur... I am only here to give you this message."

"You truly believe what you're saying, don't you?" She nodded, and he sighed. "I wish I shared your conviction, Nina. But I have been praying to God every morning and every night for salvation."

"And God has finally heard your prayers," she insisted. "That is why I am here. You need to tell your congregation to come to service on Sunday, and to pray to him. He can save your town, if you have faith."

"Do you know what will happen when I tell people there is going to be a miracle, and nothing happens?" he said. "They will lose what little faith they have left. They'll probably lynch me."

"Maybe that's part of the problem," she replied. "How can you expect people to have faith, when you have none yourself?"

"Nina," he said, slipping into a more patient tone of voice, "God does not take a hand in the affairs of mankind. He saves our souls, not our towns."

"He saved Moses and his people from the Egyptians," she pointed out, though in actual fact it had been angels, utilising the weapons of Heaven, that had spoken to Moses and encouraged him to lead the Israelites from the lands of Egypt. "I could recount a dozen instances where God has helped mankind. Is it so difficult to believe that he is willing to help now?"

"You're not asking me to believe in God," he pointed out, "but to believe in you. And no offence, Nina, but I've never seen you before in my life, you are a stranger here, and I know nothing about you. In my position, wouldn't you be just as skeptical?"

"I suppose I would," she admitted. She had thought this would be easier, that a servant of Heaven would be easy to convince. Just her luck, that the most suspicious priest in the world should be in this town. "Perhaps if you were to know me better, you would believe me. I will be staying in town for a few days... I intend to be here on Sunday, to pray to God. I am going to stay to witness the miracle, even if you don't believe it will happen."

"And where are you staying?"

"I don't know yet. Is there a motel here?"

"Are you kidding? Knott is hardly a tourist hot-spot."

"Then I suppose I shall camp somewhere," she said. It wasn't as if she needed somewhere to stay, after all. She was an angel; she didn't need to eat, or drink, and though she had tried food on occasion—mostly icecream—she had yet to even consider the act of sleeping.

"Hmm," Reverend Woodward said, looking over her clothes and her single bag. "I'll tell you what. My wife and I have a spare room in our house. You can stay with us until Sunday, if you like."

His offer came as a surprise, but perhaps this would be an ideal opportunity to work on the Reverend, to help restore some of his faith, and to prepare the rest of the town for the coming miracle.

"I am very grateful for your offer of accommodation," she said. "I don't want to... put you out."

"It's no problem. I think my wife will actually be grateful to have somebody else to cook for." He smiled. "She thinks I don't appreciate all the effort she puts into meals."

"I'm sure her meals will be better than anything I am used to."

"Well then, it's settled. Do you want to follow me to the house, and I'll show you to your room?"

"Thank you."

She grabbed her bag from the seat beside her and followed Reverend Woodward through the church, down some steps to what appeared to be the back door. They both stepped out into the sunshine, and she saw a house not far away. She followed him across the dying lawns, and looked around at the withering trees. This place was really in a bad way. Worst of all was knowing that she could fix all of this, right here, right now. All it would take was one little storm, easily whipped up and controlled. But she had to do it more carefully than that. Dry ground did not absorb moisture easily, and too much rain at once could cause a flash flood. As well, she needed to time it right. She needed everybody to be focused on God, before she could restore their faith in Him.

When she heard a dog bark she looked up and saw a border collie come racing out of the house, bounding over to her, its tail wagging happily. The sight of the dog brought a smile to her face; people who cared for animals were usually good people, and it reminded her... or Katie... of home.

"Patch, get down!" the Reverand shouted as the collie jumped excitedly around Ava's legs.

"It's alright," she assured Woodward. "I love dogs."

She reached down and placed her hand on the dog's head. Be calm, she commanded it, and at once it stopped frisking, instead turning its brown eyes to watch her with an expression of canine worship.

"Huh, looks like you have a way with animals," Woodward said, watching as Patch followed at her heels, tail still wagging.

"Yes, I do," she agreed.

He led her up the stairs to the porch, then opened the front door for her. She looked around the home; it was large and clean, very well kept. Not at all like Bobby's house. But, unlike Bobby's house, there were no ancient books on the occult and the paranormal, no piles of weapons, no bottles of holy water, no silver knives on display. It was just a normal, human house, with tasteful decoration and a small bookshelf, on which a copy of the Bible had a place of prominence. The other books ranged from horticulture to psychology; an interesting combination.

"They're my daughter's," the Reverend explained, gesturing at the psychology books. "She's away studying at college at the moment. I'm not sure which was hardest for her... leaving us behind, or leaving Patch," he said, with a fond glance at the dog which was still right beside Ava.

"And the books about plants?"

"Oh, they belong to Sally, my wife."

"You have a lovely home," she said, gesturing around the living room. "Do you and your wife have any other children?"

"No, just Claire. Come on, I'll show you to her room."

"She won't mind me staying there?"

"I think she'd want it to be put to good use while she's gone. Claire wouldn't deny somebody in need."

He led her through the house and up the stairs, then opened the first door on the left of the landing. When Ava stepped inside she found herself in a large bedroom, inside which was a double-bed, along with a large wardrobe, a chest of drawers, and a long table beneath the window. There was a full length mirror in one corner of the room, and cream-coloured curtains had been drawn back from the window. Ava turned to face Woodward.

"I will not disturb anything of your daughter's in this room," she told him.

"Claire wouldn't begrudge you anything," he assured her. "Well, I have to return to the church, in case anybody decides to stop by. You're welcome to come and go as you please; we never lock the front door. And we usually have dinner at seven."

"Thank you, Reverend. I think I will have a look around the town today, and return for dinner. I hope your wife will not mind cooking for one more."

"As far as Sally's concerned, the more, the merrier. I'll leave you to get settled in now, Nina. If you need anything, just come and see me at the church."

He departed, pulling the door closed behind him, and Ava put her bag on the bed. She had much work to do here. Not only did she have to convince a town full of people to suddenly start praying to God for a miracle, but she had to figure out how the weather was being affected so that she could fix it in the long term; a single rain storm would only be a temporary fix. The dog, Patch, pawed at her leg, and looked up at her eagerly. Smiling, she bent down and ran a hand over his head.

"Don't worry, boy," she said. "I'm going to fix this."

He barked an agreement. It was nice to know at least one creature in this town believed in her.

- o -