Chapter 2 — Dean Suddenly Has Faith (Not)
A woman is asleep on the couch when the television and the lights start to flicker.
She sits up, looking visibly alarmed as she should be. She takes in a breath to steady her heartbeat, but when she exhales, the air exhales is seen.
She walks to the cupboard and starts pulling out her weapons, curtesy of the hunting life's reflexes, when the phone rings.
The woman ignores it, knowing the call would go straight to voicemail in a few seconds. Once she finishes ganking whatever supernatural baddie that's invaded her home, she'll be at leisure to talk with whoever's phoning her.
"Hey, It's Olivia." Her answer machine says. "I'm not in. Leave a message."
The woman – Olivia – takes out an Electro-Magnetic Force reader, which starts beeping and flashing uncontrollably. Definitely supernatural, then, and not just her imagination.
"Olivia, it's Bobby." Ah. So it's Robert. Who knew? "Call me back, would you? I got something big." Olivia's interest is immediately piqued. She's definitely answering this one later."I could use your help."
Olivia loads a gun and walks around the apartment and finds nothing.
. . . Is what she'd love to say. A thin, tall man appears beside her, battered and bruised, once she knows as well as herself.
Olivia's shocked. "You!"
He had to be dead. She saw him die. Unless . . .
She shoots the ghost, which naturally has iron bullets, and manages to ward off the ghost for a short duration. She pulls out a back of rock salt and covers her doorway entrance with it, and her time's up.
She tooks at him sadly. "I'm sorry." She says, backing up. "I'm so sorry."
Olivia turns around to find another familiar, yet dead face. The woman grabs Olivia around the throat, strangling her. As Olivia screams and chokes in the woman's hold, her last thought is –
I guess I'll never know what Bobby was onto.
- X -
Bobby's sitting at his desk, a huge ass pile of books in front of him. Sam's sitting in a chair in the opposite corner talking to Dean, who's standing in adamant refusal.
"Well," Sam says, sarcastic, "then tell me what else it could be."
"Look," Dean's imaginary feathers are all ruffled, "All I know is that I was not groped by an angel."
Sam's face was a mask of pure exasperation. "Okay, look, Dean." His patience with his brother is fraying considerably. "Why do you think this Percy would lie to you about it?
"Maybe he's some kind of demon." Dean shrugs. "Demons lie." Bobby looks up from his books to look at the boys, interested all of a sudden.
"A demon who's immune to salt rounds and devil's traps?" Sam says, incredulous. Sometimes, his brother is well and truly an idiot. "And Ruby's knife? Dean, even Lilith is scared of that thing!"
Dean looks at his brother pointedly. "Don't you think if angels were real, that some hunter, somewhere, would have seen one . . . At some point, ever?"
"Yeah. You just did, Dean." Sam deadpans.
"I'm trying to come up with a theory here, okay?" Dean says, looking visibly flustered. "Work with me."
"Dean, we have a theory." Sam deadpans again.
"Yeah, one with a little lest fairy dust on it, please?" Dean says snarkily.
Sam sighs a bit. "Okay, look. I'm not saying we know for sure. I'm just saying we –"
"Okay, okay." Dean replies, victorious. "That's the point: We don't know for sure, so I'm not gonna believe that this thing is a freaking Angel of the Lord because it says so."
Bobby's getting tired of this. "Ya two chuckleheads wanna keep arguin' religion, or do ya wanna come and take a look at this?"
Sam and Dean walk over to Bobby's desk.
"I got stacks of lore." Bobby continues. "Biblical, pre-biblical. Some of it's in damn cuneiform. It all says an angel can snatch a soul from the pit."
"What else?" Dean asks.
"What else what?"
"What else could do it?" Dean elaborates
Bobby raises an eyebrow. "Airlift yer ass outta the hotbox? As far as I can tell – nothing."
Sam's eyes shine with a fervor. "Dean, this is good news!"
"How?"
"Because for once, this isn't just another round of demon crap." Hazel eyes burn with the fire of hope. "I mean, maybe you were saved by the good guys for once, you know?"
"Okay," Dean concedes. "Say it's true; say there are angels. Then what? There's a God?"
"At this point," Bobby interrupts, "Vegas' money's on 'yeah'."
"I don't know, guys." Dean says, feeling lost all of a sudden.
Screw this, Sam's seriously annoyed now. "Okay, look. I know you're not all choirboy about this stuff, but this is becoming less and less about faith and more and more about proof."
"Proof?" Dean's voice sounded weird.
"Yes." Sam says, impatient.
"Proof that there's a God out there that actually gives a crap about me personally? I'm sorry, but I'm not buying it." Dean says staunchly.
"Why not?" Sam's really curious now.
"Because, why me?" Dean reasons. "If there is a God out there, why would he give a crap about me?"
"Dean-"
"I mean, I've saved some people, okay?" He says, slightly angry. "I figured that made up for the stealing and the ditching chicks. But why do I deserve to get saved? I'm just a regular guy."
Dean looks unquestionably bitter.
"Apparently, you're a regular guy tahts important to the guy upstairs." Sam replies, trying to convince his brother.
"Well, that creeps me out." At least he lost the bitter look. "I mean I don't like getting singled at birthday parties, much less by . . . God."
"Okay, well, too bad, Dean," Sam' slightly teasing. Only slightly, mind you, "because I think he wants you to strap on your party hat."
"Fine." Dean grumbles. "What about angels?"
To that, Bobby picks up a pile of fat and weighty looking books and puts them in front of Dean and just says, "Start reading."
Dean looks first at the pile of fat and weighty books, and then at Sam. "You're gonna get me some pie."
He grabs a book from the top of the pile.
Sam chuckles to himself.
- X -
The Impala pulls to a stop in front of a diner café.
Sam's driving while trying to convince Dean on the phone that"Yes, Dean. I'll get the chips." and "Dude. When have I ever forgotten the pie?" the latter to which Dean grumbles in reluctant assent.
"Exactly." He says, slightly smug and exasperated.
As he gets out of the car to get what his brother ordered, he sees Ruby waiting for him.
"I got to go." He says. Dean says something over the phone, to which Sam says, "Yeah, all right. Bye."
He walks to the she-demon. "Ruby."
Her eyes flash. "So is it true?" she asks.
"Is what true?"
"Did an angel rescue Dean?" My, isn't she the epitome of patience today?
"You heard." Sam says, annoyed. Was the knowledge that public?
"Who hasn't?" Ruby replies.
Apparently, it is.
"We're not hundred percent sure, but I think so." He finally says.
"Okay." Ruby seems satisfied, for now. "Bye, Sam."
And saying that she walks away . . .
Is utter bullshit, because Sam is confused and he demands an explanation, which does by grabbing her arm and turning her to face him. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait. What's going on?"
Ruby yanks her arm out of his grip. "Sam, they're angels." She explains. "I'm a demon. They don't care if I'm being helpful – they smite first, and then they ask questions later."
That grabs his attention – as if it wasn't already – and keeps it there. "What do you know about them?" He questions.
"Not much." Is her reply. "I've never met one, and I really don't want to. All I know is that they scare the holy hell out of me." Pardon the near anti-thesis. "Watch yourself, Sam."
"I'm not scared of angels." Sam replies confidently.
Ruby finally walks away, leaving Sam alone. Once she's out of sight and earshot, she whispers. "You should be, Sam. You should be scared of angels – and of me."
- X -
"No way he's an angel!" Dean exclaims, disbelieving.
Not this again. Sam thinks, annoyed. Dean's brought up this subject for the god-knows-what time that week.
Sam rolls his eyes at his brother, eyes alight with faith. "Look at the facts, Dean. He pulled you out of hell." Sam pauses to let that sink in. "As far as we know, other than demons and possibly God, no supernatural creature can get you out of there. Since Lilith put you in there in the first place, I don't think any demon will be hard-headed to go against Lilith's wishes and let you free. Of course, let's not forget about their jealousy issues, shall we?"
"Hey!" Good God, no. "Don't talk about me like I'm not here!"
Percy flew into the room a few moments ago, Dean guesses with a mortified look on his face.
Percy sighs exasperatedly at that. "What is it about me that sets you off so much, Dean?" Percy the Holy Teenage Rebel sits down on the chair directly across Dean's that somehow came into existence, looking earnest.
"The fact you're an angel, that's what!" Dean snaps. "After all that shit in our life – Dad selling his soul, me going to hell and whatnot – and you guys having plenty of opportunities to show up and you do it now? Add to that the fact that no hunter ain't ever seen you before and I think I have reasonable grounds for suspicion."
Percy runs a hand across his very messy hair. "Look, Dean. First off: I turned into the heavenly pigeon a year ago. I'm just as confused as you, here. I just get orders from God, and I have to act them out."
"If he's so eager to help us out, why doesn't he come here himself?" Dean growls, angry.
Sam looks at him pointedly, with Bitchface #6 (Please kill me now so that I don't have to bear the humiliation that is my brother anymore), and says, "Dean." in that way only Sammy can.
"It's alright, Sam." Percy says, with a tired smile. "I understand from where Dean's coming from. I was like that too, once."
Percy decides to break the ice. "Look, here's the deal: You ask me questions. Any you like. But I'll choose the ones I'll answer."
Sam breaks out of the stupor that Dean can't seem to get out of and considers it. "I suppose that's fair." Sam says.
Percy smirks a bit. "Ask away."
"What are you?" Dean blurts, finally. He was beginning to think that the cat got his tongue.
Percy raises a dark brow. "An angel." He deadpans. "I think we already went over this."
"No." Sam interrupts. "You said you were turned into the 'Heavenly Pigeon' a year ago." Sam Winchester, ever the observer. "What were you before that?"
"Human." Percy replies almost instantly. "But not exactly."
Both brothers wonder what he's talking about. Percy looks like he's waging a war with himself before giving a little huff of air.
Percy's hand goes into his pocket to reveal . . . a cheap black-ink ballpoint. Dean raises an eyebrow, unimpressed, wondering where Percy's going with this.
. . . That is, until he uncaps his pen.
A fucking bronze sword comes into existence. One that glows, too. It's three feet long, with a leather grip. Percy gives it a little twirl before sinking it into the floorboards like they're made of putty.
Dean and Sam gape at him.
"Go on," Percy says in an encouraging tone, "check it out."
Dean fails to see where Percy's going with this, but ends up thinking: ah, screw it. One look at Sam, Dean's fairly sure he's having similar thoughts about this . . . whatever's the speciality of the sword.
Dean examines it carefully, in hopes of understanding what Percy's on to. When he finds Greek lettering at the base, his eyebrows raise. "Anaklusmos?" He asks. Sam perks up at that.
Percy nods solemnly. "Anaklusmos, yes. Riptide, in English. 'The current that takes one by surprise'." He has the air of quoting someone important.
Dean frowns, nonplussed. "This is important, how?"
Sam glows. "Isn't Anaklusmos the sword of Hercules? The one he uncovered at Mount Orthys from Ladon?"
Geek. Dean rolls his eyes at Sam fondly and with a little pride.
Percy's right eyebrow is raised. He looks at Sam with grudging admiration. "Close enough," he says, "But not quite there. Actually, the sword belongs to one of the five Hesperides."
Sam's eyebrows furrow in confusion. "I thought there were only four."
Percy smiles. "Actually, the myth's a bit off. There were five, originally. One, a good friend of mine, lost her position because of Hercules' dickishness. One of the reasons I hate him, to be honest." The last part was muttered in no little anger. "But that's a story for a later time." Percy adds, when he sees the curiosity on Dean's and Sam's faces.
"Wasn't Hercules' sword made up of . . ." Sam trails off, making Percy's smile wider.
"Celestial Bronze? Yeah."
Dean actually knows this part. "Isn't Celestial Bronze the stuff of gods and . . ." Dean's eyes widen in realization.
Sam finishes the sentence for him. "Demigods."
Percy grins, looking like the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. "And I have this sword because . . ."
"You were a Greek demigod." Dean says slowly, dazed.
"And bingo! We have a winner." Percy says.
Dean stared at him in silence.
Sam stared at him in silence
Percy stared at them in silence.
They stared at each other in silence.
And a long silence it was.
Percy breaks it. "Next."
"How old are you?" That's Sam.
"According the Earth years?" Percy asks rhetorically. "Seventeen. Very recently, too. August eighteenth. In angel terms, I'm practically a newborn."
'That's a shocker.' Dean thinks, not sarcastic at all. 'Just a month into seventeen?'
What the hell?
"Why did you take me out of . . .?" Dean pauses, uncomfortable with the topic all of a sudden, even though it was important to talk it out the man who did it.
"Hell?" Percy finishes his sentence for him. "Because God asked. I hate it when higher beings do this, but God really does have plans for you. It's much more important than what even Hera had in mind, and that's saying something."
Hera? Dean's mind whirls.
"God wants your help; and what God wants, God gets." Percy continues.
"I mean," Dean asks, "why was I chosen to be taken out of Hell? I'm not a good guy; Hell, I kill, cheat and whore around on a regular basis." That's putting it mildly. "Why me?"
Percy looks sad, like he knew exactly what Dean's feeling right now. It really isn't that farfetched – if God honestly chose him to be an angel, then he must have come across something like this. "You're a hero, Dean." Percy says, finally. "A better person than I ever was, which is why I feel so bad as I say this yet again, because God knows how many times I've been used like this – You have to help save the world."
Sam and Dean's eyes widen comically. The eldest Winchester gapes shamelessly, so the younger one raises the burning question:
"What?!"
"The angels are prideful, Sam," Percy spits out, looking thoroughly disgusted. "They don't care if anyone gets in their way – they'll kill you to get what they want. And what they want . . ." Percy trails off, before gathering his wits about him, "Is paradise on Earth."
Dean opens his mouth. And then closes it again, before Percy could tell him guppies would enter. He was fond of water puns and jokes for some weird reason.
"And that's a bad thing . . . why?"
Only Dean Winchester could ask a potentially disastrous question with enough sarcasm to kill ten elephants.
Sam glares at his older brother before rephrasing his question in a polite manner.
"Isn't that a good thing?"
"For the angels? Yeah, definitely." Percy's reply is immediate. "For you guys? Not so much. Unless you're a fan of suicide and masochism, in which case you've gotten very lucky. And on the opposite side of the ring, you've got Lucifer, who's planning to raise hell on both sides. In either case," Percy rests his case, "You're gonna die a painful and tortuous death."
"Then why are you helping us?" Dean asks, not out of distrust, but curiosity. If this guy was so powerful, he could join either side and live happily ever after.
"Firstly; I was human too, once." Percy says. "It's sort of my duty. Secondly; I'm the angel of Loyalty and Righteous justice, so this kinda comes in the domain. And thirdly; my girlfriend would have killed me if I didn't help."
Girlfriend? More like soulmate, the way he talks about her. Dean thinks.
"Say we trust you," Dean proposes, calming down a bit. "How do we know that you'll not kill us?"
Sam kicks him. Dean yelps, glaring at his baby brother.
"I'm not going to even bother answering that." Percy says, slightly annoyed with a dark brow raised, as if conveying to Dean: Are you stupid or what? "I did say that I was the angel of Loyalty. I honestly cannot betray you, genius. Let's go have some blueberry pie."
You know those times you feel you can't get and stupider than you already are and actually do by saying something that sounds very reasonable in your head?
Yeah, Dean was feeling that now.
But finally, he met someone who appreciated pies for what they were. There was a question that was ripping him from the inside-out, claiming all his senses and practically begging to be asked to the angel in front of him.
"Why blueberry?"
*wails* I'm the worst author in the history of authors! I haven't updated in forever, and here I give you a measly three thousand word chapter after months.
You hate me? I hate me too. Why are you even here, showering me with 96 favs and 124 follows and reviewing on my story?
For this, I love you all immensely, and I regret to inform all of you that my updates shall now be few and far in between because of school, exams, and life in general. Try not to hate me too much.
The real reason for my long absence is the loss of my pen drive, which had all my updates. Be patient, and you will get all the updates you deserve.
R&R
Star
