An- Kay, hi, this idea was to good to ignore, so here it is, Graceful descent.
Just a note; 90% of the stuff on angels and their grace was made up. I don't actually know this stuff. And-
Sam: why is it always me?
Emma: shut up, I'm talking to my readers. I should never have let you read the draft for this story.
Anyways, flames will be used to salt and burn your dead body, so be nice to me.
Cas: why would your readers want to know what you do with fire?
Emma: oh Cas, your so stupid sometimes.
Chapter 1
Sam woke up tied to a chair. Unsure how he got there in the first place. The last thing he remembered was talking to Dean on the phone, then a hissing sound and then he got really dizzy and blacked out.
A demon entered the room, holding a small leather bag. He pulled out a small glass cylinder topped with silver and carved with various symbols. It contained swirling silver smoke, like demon smoke, that glowed with white light.
"See this?"the demon asked, "this is angel grace. It will slowly burn away your soul, unless your a fallen angel, which you are not." He then took the grace and smashed the container at Sam's feet.
The grace swirled in the air for a second, seeming to come to a decision.
It flew at Sam and spun around him, the demon stared as the grace entered Sam's eyes and mouth. His head tipped back as a scream was ripped from his throat, his skin glowing with light.
The demon shut his eyes, knowing full well the results of watching angel grace kill someone.
When Sam finally stopped screaming, the demon slowly opened his eyes. He turned to see Sam slumped in the chair, head hanging limply. The demon pulled out a knife and forcefully poked Sam's arm. When he didn't react to the blood running down his arm the demon slashed the knife across Sam's chest. When he still didn't react, the demon smiled. It was worth losing his three companions to capture an angel and take some of its grace.
A crash sounded from the hall. "That'd be Dean." The demon muttered and quickly climbed out onto the fire escape.
Dean ran into the room at the end of the hall in time to see a demon exit via window. He moved to chase him, then he saw Sam.
Dean quickly ran to him, and gently tilted back his head. "Sammy, come on, don't be dead, you can't be dead." He whispered.
Feeling for a pulse, Dean felt dread creep into his heart as he felt nothing. "No, Sammy, please don't do this to me." He told Sam as he frantically searched for a sign of life from his unresponsive brother. "N-no, Sammy, you can't be-" Dean quit talking as he felt an uneven, weak pulse.
Dean quickly cut the ropes off, managing to keep his hands from shaking at how close he'd come to losing his little brother. "Come on Sammy, lets get you out of here." Dean said, picking up his little brother. "Geez Sammy, you think you'd be lighter with all the salad you eat." He grumbled as he carried Sam to the impala.
Dean gently set Sam down on the motel bed, then grabbed the first aid kit. "Sorry Sam" Dean said as he quickly cut away his shirt and examined the knife slash.
"What the hell?" Dean said as he stared at the wound, it looked several days old, and Dean watched in amazement as it faded to a pink line, then a scar, and finally disappeared.
"What's this about? You have superpowers and you didn't tell me." Dean said jokingly, more to cover the rising panic he felt.
Then, without any warning Sam started screaming, his back arched. He flipped off the bed and landed on his side. "Dean!" He choked, "help me."
Only Dean just stood there, staring at Sam's back, his spinal cord was flexing and Dean could see the skin straining as something black moved under it.
The sound of something tearing seemed to knock some sense back into Dean. He rushed to Sam's side and dropped down beside him "hold on Sammy, it'll be okay." Dean said, gently stroking his brothers hair. "D'n, hurts" Sam choked out between pain filled gasps. "It'll be okay-" Dean's reply was cut short as, with a wet tearing sound, two large black shapes ripped themselves out of Sam's back.
Dean stared in amazement at the pair of huge black wings, dripping with blood. "What did they DO to you?" He asked Sam in amazement. "Grace..." Sam said before he slumped unconscious on the floor.
"What did they do?" Dean repeated. He shuffled closer to Sam an examined the wings, they were pitch black and kinda fluffy, and were at lease six feet long.
Dean got up and walked into the kitchen, grabbing a cloth, some warm water and a bar of soap. He then set to work washing the blood off of Sam's wings.
Sam woke up on the floor, he could feel the carpet scratching at his face and chest, he wondered absently what had happened to his shirt.
He was also aware of an extension off his back, almost like wings. He shifted them a bit, and felt the tip of one brush against something, most likely the wall.
He shifted them again and let out a small whimper as pain shot through his back, where his wings met his skin. The second he whimpered someone or something quickly made its way over to Sam as he lay there, without any way to protect himself.
"Sam? Are you okay?"
Sam instantly recognized the voice as Dean and let out a small sigh of relief. "D'n?" Sam asked, even though he knew who it was already.
Dean winced as Sam dropped a syllable in his name, he only did that when he was badly hurt or really, really scared.
"Hey Sammy, everything's gonna be okay." Dean said, gently sliding his arms under Sam and helping him sit up. "D'n, why do I have wings?" Sam asked, sounding like a small child instead of the 23 year old he was.
"I don't know Sammy." Dean replied sadly.
"D'n, 'm scared." Sam said quietly.
"S'okay Sammy. We'll figure this out, we always do." Dean said as Sam curled up and held Dean's jacket in a death grip, hiding his face. Dean could feel Sam's quiet sobbing as he held his little brother to his chest.
"It'll be okay." He repeated.
They stayed like this until Sam fell asleep, slumping against his older brother. Feeling, for the first time in months, completely and utterly safe.
Sam woke up listening to a heart beat and Deans soft snoring. He opened his eyes slightly and saw that Dean was leaning against one of the beds, sound asleep. Sam was curled up, his head resting on Dean's chest, he also had a death grip on Dean's jacket.
He tried to stand, but found that Dean's arms were wrapped around him.
After he extracted himself from Dean's arms, Sam quickly walked to the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror. His wings unfolded and he looked at the dried blood crusted on them, in his hair and on his chest and back.
"I should wash that off." He muttered.
After several unsuccessful attempts, he finally managed to get into the shower without falling, hitting his wings on anything, breaking something or waking Dean up.
After spending about 45 minutes washing his wings off, scrubbing the crusted blood out of his hair and off his back and chest, he climbed out of the shower.
This time he wasn't as careful and knocked a glass of the counter as his wings unfolded. "Sammy? You okay?" Dean called from outside the bathroom door. "Yeah, 'm fine, just knocked over a glass." He called back, embarrassed.
Sam held up his shirt, frowning at it. "How am I supposed to put this on?" He muttered. Dean held out his hand, "give it here, I've got an idea." He took his knife and cut two slits in the back, "straighten out your wings." He told Sam.
When he did, Dean slipped the shirt on to them, so that they went through the slits. "Thanks." Sam mumbled as he buttoned up the shirt, feeling like a child that couldn't dress, he was 23 for Pete's sake, he should be able to get dressed on his own.
Dean glanced in the rear view mirror at Sam, who was sitting dejectedly in the back seat, wings unfolded behind him. He glanced up and saw Dean watching him , "stop staring." He said quietly.
Dean sighed and looked back at the mountain road. He pulled over at a campsite, and climbed out of the impala.
"Come on Sammy, I wanna see if you can fly." He said, grinning. Sam slowly got out of the impala.
Sam stood in the center of the clearing, wings unfolded. He shifted them a little, then, in a rush of air that knocked Dean off his feet, he took off.
Dean sat on the ground, watching Sam fly, he flipped and dove, laughing out of pure joy. Then suddenly spiraled out of control, hurtling towards earth.
Dean ran towards the spot Sam had fallen. "Sam!" He yelled. where was he? Was he okay.?
He ran into a small clearing surrounding a swampy pond, sitting in the pond, soaking wet, covered in plants and laughing his head off, was Sam. "That. Was. AWESOME." He exclaimed, still laughing.
He looked up and saw Dean, "give me a hand here." He said, holding out his hand. Dean grabbed it, realizing too late that Sam would never ask for help, and was pulled face first into the pond. "Son of a-" Dean was cut off as he was completely submerged in the pond. He came up spluttering and spitting pond water, "Bitch." He finished. "Jerk!" Sam replied happily, snickering at the look on Dean's face, and at the piece of seaweed tangled in his hair. "I'll get you!" Dean snarled and jumped at Sam, tackling him, causing Sam to fall back, his wings unfolding and splashing most of the pond on to the shore line.
"Dean..." Sam said, suddenly serious, "look behind you."
Dean turned, ready to face whatever was there, only to see an empty forest, "what the -" he cut off mid sentence when something small and slimy was dropped down the back of his shirt. Dean grabbed it an held it in front of his face, it was a frog.
"SAM!" He yelled, turning only to see Sam disappear into the forest.
Castiel watched the two brothers splash around in the pond, thinking of Gabriel, and how he and Castiel used to play among the clouds.
The flutter of wings interrupted his musings.
"Hey lil' bro! 'sup?"
"Hello Gabriel, what brings you here?"
Gabriel frowned, and walked forward to stand beside Castiel.
"What is your mission?"
"To stop the youngest Winchester."
"You mean kill." Gabriel's frown deepened.
"Yes" Castiel's voice was firm, with no misgivings.
"So, your gonna barge in there like Terminator and kill them?"
"I do not understand that reference."
Gabriel rolled his eyes, frustrated at the lack of emotion from the youngest angel.
"Your going to kill them." He elaborated.
"No, my mission is to kill Sam, not his brother." Castiel turned back to the Winchester brothers, watching with a small trace of regret at what he was about to do.
"You have a choice, Castiel."
Gabriel's words surprised Castiel, his usual tone of voice, happy and carefree, was gone, replaced by a wise archangel.
"You always have a choice."
Gabriel's parting words reverberated in Castiel's skull, he frowned, alone again, and turned away from the Winchesters, and, with a flutter of wings, disappeared.