Disclaimer: Wow, I gotta do one of these again? Heh, now if really feels like I'm back. I certainly don't own Supernatural, or the concept of angels.
Summary: But if he gave it a chance, what would he see?
A/N: This little one-shot has pulled me out of a long dry spell, and into a new fandom. First Supernatural fic, and I'm kinda proud of it. Please R+R.
I dedicate this to all those who need a little faith.
I Don't Believe In Angels
Dean doesn't believe in angels.
No not those white, pure beings with fragile wings and golden halos. He doesn't believe in those. They're much too mythical and magnificent to exist in his world. Dean's world is of monsters and demons of horrible power, of faceless evil. There is no place there for beautiful winged people who do the work of God and bring peace and love. He learnt fairly quickly that there is no god present in his life. If there was, the things which happen to him wouldn't happen. Or at least they wouldn't pile up on him like they had the tendency of doing. Where is the all-powerful being, the shining light? No, there are no luminous messengers of the Lord.
Dean stopped believing long ago in angels.
There has been far too much darkness in his life. Suffering has surrounded him from an early age. His mother was his light, the one who taught him first of angels.
"There are angels guarding you, Darling, never forget someone is always watching over you," she'd told him. But when she was taken, there had been sadness for a lingering time. His father was a lost cause, and now? Well, he was gone to the great hunt in the sky and wasn't coming back any time soon.
Dean isn't entitled belief in angels.
He believes in what he can see, what he can touch. Dean is a man of evidence and action, and if that action requires recklessness and mercilessness, so be it. He figures if he can shoot it, it exists. Bu whoever heard of shooting an angel? And anyway, Dean thinks he's done too much in his life to even deserve a visit from an angel if they did exist. Someone who killed, lied and deceived was hardly going to be in The Big Guy's good books.
Dean can't believe in angels.
Is it that he can't believe, or is it that he won't let himself believe? Through the years of killing and hunting, Dean has learnt to keep his head down. He's learnt not to get carried away or to expect too much. In this time, is it that he'd forgotten to look around him? Maybe he doesn't need to look to heaven or at stain-glass windows or ancient books of religious lore to find his angels. Dean only needs to look very close to home to see that not all angels have white wings and flowing robes.
Dean doesn't see his angels.
He may not believe in their myth, but Dean certainly isn't short of angels. He's been with one almost every day for almost two years. He's been fighting and struggling alongside Dean, gone through just as much grief. Dean's angel isn't blonde, flawless or perfect. He doesn't wear robes of silk; in fact his clothes are kind of dirty and old. His angel has messy brown hair and at times looks like a lost puppy. He has some sort of 'psychic powers' (or so he claims) that always get them into strife. He's taller than Dean, and never lets an opportunity go by to rub that in, but to Dean he'll always be 'squirt'.
Dean's angel's name is Sam.
Although Dean won't admit it, his brother, his partner in crime is always there. He guards, advises, argues and even talks wisdom into his bigger brother at especially thoughtless moments. He may not have wings, but for Dean, Sam is as much an angel as any glowing apparition. Dean doesn't know how lucky he is to have and angel like Sam, but he'll never really see his little brother that way. Sam? An angel? Sure and vampires don't exist, he'd scoff. Sam would roll his eyes and look stoically ahead. No, no wings or robes, he's not that kind of angel. No swords or vengeance mission, he's not that kind of angel either. And no, a monster he's not. He's just Sam; supernatural hunter, geek, psychic; Dean's angel.
But I don't believe in angels Dean tells himself, I don't believe in angels.