Story Title: The Life of Death
Story Summery: Dean knows what its like to be a big brother, to live and breath for the protection of the younger sibling, there isn't anything he wouldn't do for Sam. But, as he is about to learn, Big Brothers come in all sorts of sizes, shapes, and backgrounds. So, just how far will a Big Brother of the Heavenly variety go to protect one of theirs? Especially when their life hangs in the balance?
Time Period: AU after season 7 and onward-will focus heavily on season 8 as well.
Note: This is my first attempt at a somewhat more serious story (but still with the legendary fluff I enjoy writing so much) its basically an AU season 7. As being my first, I would love feedback but will not beg, lol, I want you to respond because you want to not because I ask you to! Please though, comments, reviews, and critiques are always loved and appreciated, but flames will be ignored so please don't flame!
Any who, you guys rock! Love all of you! And I hope you enjoy it!
"A thousand times we die in one life. We crumble, break, and tear apart until the layers of illusion are burned away and all that is left, is the truth of who and what we really are."
~~Teal Scott
"Hit the ground! Shield yourself!"
Dean Winchester hit the ground, his face buried in the damp grass underneath him. A childhood full of training to obey short quick commands by his dad really paying itself in full at this very moment. Instincts that had saved his life continuing to do so even after all this time, his greatest childhood lesson to act first and question later.
But even with his hands pressing hard over his ears and his eyes clinched closed he can still feel the heat as the power in the room rise to an unearthly level. The light is still blinding behind his eye lids as it fills the entire field, what some would call an act of God, is met with an earth shaking screech that makes the sound waves around them vibrate with raw energy, so high pitched that it makes Dean grimace in pain even still, pressing the palms of his hands harder into his ears to try and drown out at least what he can.
This moment of raw power that should strike the living fear into anyone is short lived, and when Dean hesitantly opens his eyes seconds later, what he sees before him makes his entire world crash around him, hope spilling from every pore in his body and absolute dread filling in its place. His face looses all color as he slowly pushes himself upwards, time seeming to move in slow motion.
A smaller dark-haired, pale skinned figure clad in dark jeans and an extraordinary hoodie is hunched over on his knees, hands shaking slightly as they lightly ghost over the end of a broken cooper cane sticking out of his midsection while a taller thinner man stands above him sneering at him, wiping his hands on the front of his dark blue business suit as he moves forward to loom over the smaller figure, its void eyes filling in to an unnatural red, glinting with an evil sadistic sort of glee.
In that single moment, all Dean can find himself thinking about it the fact that they were all so fucked, they'd failed in their mission, Dick Roman was going to get away and there was nothing they could do now. They were all going to die.
"Stupid baby angel.." The Leviathan inside the tall skinny man chuckled darkly as he reached down and pulled the cane free, causing the smaller figure to shake and whimper before he was kicked roughly in the head and fell to the side.
Dean's entire world completely fell with him as the boy fell to the ground, seemingly in slow motion, laying there limp and still.
The beast turned its attention back to the Hunter it had been previously preoccupied with until his arrival, taking another step forward, "So...Dean where were we? Before we were so rudely interrupted?"
He didn't get very far, hissing and stumbling, his shriek of agony as his head fell forward, rolling to the ground like a ball from a stand, his body blowing up into smoke.
Dean had been so focused on the approaching Leviathan that he had failed to notice the arrival of four new beings in the field with them. Shocked wide green eyes looked up and finally laid upon the quickly approaching figures of Bobby Singer, carrying a blood covered blade and his own younger brother, Sam, hands full of borax and salt.
"Dean!"
Sam's concerned voice broke him from whatever trance he had fallen into and the elder hunter jumped into action, legs creaking as he hefted himself and practically crab ran to the side of the limp downed who had just took a cooper pipe to the chest.
He's stopped mid-step by rough calloused hands, Bobby hauling him back as a powerful jaw snaps at him from in front of the injured boy. Two large black dogs, giant dark haired German shepherd like dogs were circling the prone figure on the ground, fur and hackles raised. They growled lowly, threateningly, at anyone who dared touch their master when he was down. One of them, the one with red eyes, crawled down on all fours, whining lowly in its throat, licking lightly at the boys fingers with a large pink tongue.
Sam watched them both warily from where he stood, they had to make it to the angels side, but with the two on high alert and on guard they stood no chance. Not against the Hounds of Death. Dean tried to get closer once more but froze mid step when the large one with the blue eyes growled dangerously at him, licking his teeth, chompers bare.
"I just want to help him, just like they do, he'd ok! We promise not to harm him!"
The large dog looked him up and down, as if to give him a silent threat of what would happen should its owner not get any better. For their sake, he hope that the angel would not make a lair of him. With a quick bark from one to the other the two backed away if only just.
Hands shaking slightly as he turned the body over, Dean's heart may or may not have skipped a beat upon seeing the unfocused glazed over blue eyes cracked open lazely. He was almost positive that the angel before them was dead but he could still hear the gasping breaths as he choked on his own blood, a small drip dribbling down his chin.
"He's not healing!"
Sam knelt down on the other side of them, his voice filled to the brim with concern and fear, pressing his hand over the gaping hole in the others chest where the cane had gone through, blood seeping out around his fingers and through the cracks between each finger, the angel underneath them shuddering harshly at the feeling.
"I know...I know..." Lightly smacking the angel on the cheek, Dean called out to him trying to get a rise, "Azrael? Azrael! You have to wake up kid! Come on!"
Dean is completely aware that his voice is way more panicked and shaky than he wants it to be, and if either Bobby or Sam catch it then they keep it to themselves. But in this moment of complete and utter horror he can't bring himself to care in the slightest about that, his mind struggling profusely trying to wrap itself around the fact that Azrael, Azrael as in the Angel of Death, could possibly be on the verge of dying right in front of their eyes.
It sounds just so wrong!
"We need to get out of here, somewhere less open." Bobby, ever the practical man and quick thinker in the toughest situation, finally spoke up for the first time that night. "We can worry more about that later when we aren't buried neck deep in Leviathan territory. There could be more of them watching and waiting as we speak, we need to get somewhere more protected before we can even begin to do anything."
Dean and Sam exchange a quick look over the downed angel, both knowing that Bobby was obviously right, they had to get out of this field and out of this rain, and then they could begin to worry about everything else and start making a plan to fix it.
Without waiting for a response to do or don't, Sam leaned forward and scooped the kid up into his large arms, lifting him from the ground. An arm under his neck, supporting his head, and another under his knees, he stood up, and not for the first time he was thanking who ever he had to that Azrael's vessel was a twelve year old preteen.
"Let's get going guys!"
Dean nodded, turning and moving out. Bobby leading them through the trees and to a poor lit street. Just down the end Dean could just make out the speck he suspected to be the car they had brought with them. All of them racing towards it as fast as they could in order to evade any ambushes on the way, not that they thought they would, as the dogs fell out into a circle around them, yipping and snapping at shadows they alone could not see, protecting their master and the ones who had promised his return to health. Its not as far as it looks like it is, all three know this, but with every step Sam makes the kid makes a shaky pain filled breath wet with his own blood to match it and that alone seems to make the car move back another five feet every time.
"Stupid idiotic angels with sacrificial complexes..."
If either of his companions heard him mutter, they never said anything on it. But Sam did make a well placed huff of what could be taken as agreement. The younger hunter jet out in front of him when wheezing coughs shook the smaller angel and blood spilled from his mouth, staining the hunters shirt underneath him with it, his legs pumping as hard as they could closing in on the car, not bothering to look back at his brother and father figure, knowing both would be right on his tail.
No, all his attention was on getting the weakening bundle in his arms somewhere safe, somewhere they could get him help, because he will not have the blood of a dead child on his hands, even if said child is an angel.
And most especially not the one who will bleed that blood on his hands!
He won't let him!
"You're gonna be fine Az, just fine...We'll have you fixed up good...You hear me...Your not going to die!"
He won't let that happen, Dean won't let that happen, Bobby won't let that happen. None of them are letting him get off that easy.
But, then again, since when had anything in the life of the Winchester's ever gone as expected.
Soo? Are you curious! Should I continue?