A/N: This is a Supernatural AU, but it's a loose one. Charlie and Bill are Dean and Sam, and Draco is Cas, but only in the vaguest sense. That's largely because I haven't watched Supernatural since season seven or something like that, so I don't have much of a clue what's happened since then.


The afternoon sun created what appeared like a halo around Draco's face. Charlie couldn't have thought of a more fitting look for their angelic companion. It was too bad that the words coming out of the angel's mouth were far from sweet.

"Charlie, are you listening to a word I'm saying?"

The sharpness in Draco's tone was enough to break Charlie out of his stupor.

"Of course I'm paying attention," he said, blinking several times to clear his mind.

Bill's laughter erupted from behind him, but he ignored his brother. If they made eye contact, he knew his face would turn a shade of scarlet that would only embarrass him further. That was something he'd grown used to since Draco had fallen from heaven—literally—and become part of their lives.

"Really?" Draco asked. He crossed his arms against his chest, looking more like a petulant toddler than a warrior of heaven, but then, that was something else Charlie had grown used to.

"Really," Charlie said with a huff.

He turned towards the shore of Lake Michigan, where they had come to a stop because Draco was too frustrated to remain in the car for a minute longer without speaking his mind.

"You've got to stop doubting me," Charlie continued.

"You nearly got yourself killed," Draco said through gritted teeth.

"That is factually correct," Bill tossed out from where he was still sitting behind the wheel of the car. He leaned over to get a better look at them through the open passenger side door. "Not many people can lose that much blood and live to talk about it."

"Well, lucky I have an angel on my back all the time, huh?"

It had been the wrong thing to say. That much was apparent from the flicker of rage in Draco's eyes the second the words were out of Charlie's mouth. He really was thankful for the protection Draco provided; that just wasn't something he could be honest about without being taunted by the angel himself.

"Keep it up then," Draco said in a scarily calm voice. "We'll see if I come to your rescue next time."

He turned his back on them and began stalking down the length of the beach. The sun reflected off his hair as he went, making it easy to track his progress.

Charlie watched him go, wanting to follow but knowing he'd make it worse in the process.

Bill whistled, earning a glare from Charlie in the process.

"Nice job," Bill said. "You nearly die, and then you manage to piss off your savior. Draco was right. Sometimes it really does seem like you want to get killed."

"Says the guy who was almost strangled by a plant once because he just had to crack the code on a dusty old box," Charlie muttered.

He stalked back to the car and threw himself onto the backseat as if it were a bed. Though he hadn't thought he was tired, he was asleep before Draco returned.


When Charlie woke up again, the car was somewhere else entirely and Draco was inside a gas station doing whatever it was he'd needed to do. Charlie tried not to search for the angel as he wandered the gas station aisles himself.

He'd come in planning to load up on his usual road snacks, but he found himself in the chocolate aisle instead. Sweets weren't his thing; in fact, he rather disliked them. Draco, however, could eat chocolate all day without getting sick. Charlie hesitated for a second before he snatched a Dove bar off the shelf. He kept his head down as the cashier rang up his purchase.

Draco was already back in the car when he made it outside, but Bill was nowhere to be seen. Charlie slipped in the front passenger seat before turning to face Draco, who was pouting in the back. He raised one eyebrow at Charlie as if daring him to continue their argument from earlier. Instead, Charlie held out the chocolate bar.

"What is that?" Draco asked, looking at the candy with skepticism.

"A chocolate bar," Charlie said, motioning with the bar in question. "You've eaten it before; I've seen you."

Draco scowled and tightened his cross arms against his chest.

"What I meant was: Why are you giving me a chocolate bar? I'm angry with you."

Charlie sighed.

"It's meant to be an apology. Chocolate's your favorite, so…"

He stretched out his arm as far as it would go, the bar dangling in front of Draco, who looked at it for several seconds before snatching it out of the air. He didn't look at Charlie again or give anything that could be construed as a thank you. All he did was drop the chocolate onto the seat beside him as if it had already been forgotten.

Rubbing a hand over his brow, Charlie turned around in his seat to stare out the windshield.


A whole week passed before Charlie got himself injured again. Draco was so furious that Bill was the only one who dealt with him, getting him into bed at a random motel somewhere in Minnesota and demanding that he not get up until the morning.

When Charlie did wake up, it's to a deep ache in his thigh where he'd been stabbed and to an unopened jar of mixed nuts on the bedside table. Draco and Bill were nowhere to be seen, and the drawn blinds left Charlie unable to tell if the 6:10 on the alarm clock meant morning or evening. Either way, his stomach growled, and he reached for the nuts before he had time to wander where they'd come from.

He'd eaten several handfuls before he realized that the nuts might have been Draco's way to repaying him for the chocolate, and the thought, though little more than a guess, made him slow down as he ate them.

They were just nuts; he bought them for himself on a near daily basis. Yet he found his stomach fluttering at the thought of Draco buying them with him in mind. He's been traveling with them for more than a year, but for being an angel, he was pretty incapable of random acts of kindness. The idea that he'd buy anything for Charlie was laughable to the point that Charlie second guessed his original assumption.

He pushed the thought away as he finished off the nuts.


It took two weeks before Charlie woke up in a random motel bed again and tried to piece together what had injured him. The details came rushing back: They'd tracked down Bellatrix, a greater demon, in Kentucky. She'd said some things that made Charlie, despite being used to the ways of demons, act irrationally.

He tried to sit up, but a sharp pain in his side made him groan and fall back against the pillows.

Not a second later, the door to the motel room opened, revealing Draco. The afternoon sunlight streamed in behind him, making Charlie squint as at Draco as if he himself was made of light. Charlie didn't notice the can of mixed nuts in his hand until they were being tossed unceremoniously onto the mattress beside Charlie.

"Thanks," Charlie said, his voice raspy from disuse.

Draco didn't offer a response. He hovered above Charlie with a glare and his arms crossed against his chest.

"You nearly died," he said, the emotion leaking out of his voice though he tried to conceal it. "That was the most idiotic thing I've seen you do, and that's saying a lot."

"But I didn't die," Charlie pointed out with a sheepish grin. "I'm still here and in one piece."

"Why?" Draco asked as if Charlie hadn't spoken. "Why did you have to piss her off even more?"

"You mean: Why did I do to her what she was already doing to us? To you?"

Draco cringed.

"I don't care what she was doing to us. What you did was still idiotic. Besides, most of what she said was true. I've accepted that truth. You didn't need to act recklessly because any words that came from a demon's mouth."

"It was true?" Charlie asked in disbelief. He sat up against the headboard of the bed, ignoring the ache in his abdomen. "How can you say that? She accused you of being as bad as a demon when all demons do is kill. You've done nothing but help people."

"I try to help," Draco said slowly, his eyes on the comforter draped over Charlie's form. "But I'm a fallen angel, just as the most powerful demons are. I was cast from heaven for disobeying orders, just as demons were. As much as I could try to use different language or talk about it differently, we ultimately did the same thing, and there were similar responses. I didn't live up to my responsibilities as an angel, and I was punished accordingly."

Charlie stuttered over possible responses for several seconds before getting out anything coherent.

"But you were cast from heaven for helping humans too much. For helping me and Bill too much."

"Charlie," Draco said warningly.

Charlie struggled to get up, but Draco put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. Charlie pushed it away.

"No. I'm not letting you compare yourself to a demon when you're anything but. You help Bill and me at every turn, whenever we need you."

Draco closed his eyes and rubbed at his head as if a headache was beginning to form.

"That's part of the problem," he said quietly. "I help the two of you too much. There are more than seven billion humans in this world, and I constantly come to the aid of two. I've tried to rationalize it by telling myself that the two of you go on to help so many more. That's true, but it doesn't excuse it. I have a responsibility to all of humanity, and I'm currently failing in that."

Charlie felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, and it wasn't from the pain that was already making him lightheaded.

"What are you saying?" he asked.

Draco took a long time to respond. When he finally opened his eyes, Charlie was struck by the pain there. Draco's intended actions hit him like a train, and he rushed forward, words on his tongue.

"If you—"

"Goodbye, Charlie."

The angel disappeared, leaving Charlie to collide with thin air. The pain in his abdomen was suddenly too much, and Charlie collapsed on the edge of the bed, trying to control his breathing. He growled, hitting the mattress with his fist before letting his head fall into his hands.


Prompts:

Hogwarts Challenges and Assignments

Auction: Supernatural
Seasonal - Days of the Year: National Goof Off Day - Write about someone shirking their responsibilities.

Word count: 1,778