Wow, it's been a busy couple of months for me (which explains why I've only had time for a few drabbles and one-shots). This story's been sitting on my desktop for a while, almost done, but not quite there. Well, I think I've made you good people wait long enough. So, without further ado, OAW4 (oh, and don't forget to check out the first three Angel's Wings stories if you haven't yet. They're awesome!).
Title: On Angel's Wings 4
Summary: Before Sam got his wings, something evil tried to kill him. Turns out, he's not the only victim...
Warnings: Language and violence and gore. Really, it's along the same lines as the first three in the series. Not bad, but not soemthing I would let my grandma read...
Disclaimer: sigh Fine, they're not mine. But oh, how I wish they were. :)
On Angel's Wings 4
"Hello, ma'am," the adorable nine-year-old announced as Rosie Wilkinson opened the door, "I'm selling cookies for my school's fundraiser. Would you like to buy some?"
Rosie's brow creased in confusion as she reached back into the house for her purse. The 55 year old had never met anyone like this girl before. Usually, she could read anyone, find out their innermost secrets and desires, but all she got from the elementary schooler was a hiss of static. It was unnerving.
The aging psychic turned back to the girl with the money only to find the child gone. Rosie looked around, searching the streets, but there was no sign of her. Shrugging, the old woman went back into her house for an early lunch.
She had just settled down at the table with a cold sandwich when the static again filled her head, drowning out all other thoughts. Rosie turned to find the little girl standing behind her with a very sharp knife clutched in one tiny hand.
"What are you doing?" the old woman asked as the girl drew closer.
"Daddy will be so proud of me," the little girl cooed as her eyes turned black and she attacked.
o0o0o0o0o
Sam Winchester jumped into the air, flaring his wings as a sharp burst of pain ripped through his forehead before quickly subsiding. From the bed beside him he heard a muffled sneeze that ruffled his feathers.
"Dude," Dean muttered, flipping on the bedside lamp and pushing Sam's right wing out of his face, "next time we're getting separate rooms."
Sammy grinned sheepishly, folding his wings back and sitting up at the foot of his bed. "Sorry, still getting used to it."
Dean nodded, yawning loudly and stretching his own flawlessly white wings. "Whatever man. Any particular reason you're beating me with your little grey feather duster at four in the morning?"
"I think I had another vision," the younger man admitted, running a shaking hand through his dark hair, "some old lady, no older than sixty, got attacked by a little kid. She was possessed."
"The old lady, or the kid?"
"The kid."
"Well, you got a name, Psychic Wonder?"
Sam nodded. "I caught a glimpse of her id when she got out the money to pay the girl for cookies. It's Rosie Wilkinson."
"Wilkinson?" Dean asked, finally starting to wake up, "isn't that the little baby from Salvation?"
"The one and only. Her mom seemed to think she could read minds. And get this, in my vision, the little girl that attacked her said 'daddy will be so proud of me.' What do you think that means?"
Dean just shrugged. "Beats me. Then again, I'm not exactly at my intellectual best until after noon."
Sammy snorted. "You have an intellectual best? Hard to believe."
"Excuse me," the other retorted, "but I seem to remember someone having an awful hard time remembering to zip his fly a few years back."
"I had Alzheimer's," Sam defended, "what was your excuse?"
"I had a date."
The younger man just rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Dean. I think we're dealing with the same demon that got inside of Angie back in Michigan."
"The one that tried to kill you?"
"Exactly. It's working for something, something bigger."
Dean nodded. "Ok, well, we go out to Salvation in the morning, check on our favorite telepath, and keep an eye out for any demonic forces." He rolled back onto his stomach and closed his eyes.
"We have to leave tonight." Sam said, "it would probably be best if we get there before she's killed."
The older man opened an eye. "You know I hate night flying. Can't it wait?"
"Evil waits for no one."
Dean chucked a pillow at him. "The old broad had better appreciate this!"
As always, I'll keep on updating even if no one replies, but feedback is always greatly appreciated :)
