Disclaimer: You want proof that I don't own Supernatural? Dean died this season finale.
I shut the door of the choir room behind me and walk down the hallway to get some water from the fountain.
I can sense my brothers closing in on me slowly. Good thing graduation is in a month and a half. Once my vessel graduates, I'll mover around the country. They won't find me if I'm always moving.
After I finish drinking, I turn back down the hallway to the choir room. And then I stop.
Two men are standing outside the choir room.
They've caught up with me.
I start to panic internally, but quickly regain my cool. All I have to do is convince them I just another normal teenage girl. Besides, they might not even be here for me. Probably. Possibly. No, they're definitely here for me.
I stop in front of them. "Do you guys need any help finding something? I could point you to a certain classroom-"
"No, we're here to find a specific person," says the man in the long tan trenchcoat. He's about 6'0", with a crooked navy blue tie, messy black hair, and deep blue eyes.
I focus my concentration on him. Behind I can just barely make out the shape of shadowy black wings with silver and indigo streaks.
Oh, joy. It's Castiel. Of course Raphael sent my favorite brother to kill me. It's just like him to do it. He's in charge of sending angels to kill the fallen. And he decides who kills who.
I turn my attention to the other man. He's about 6'3", with spiky, light brown hair and eyes the color of grass in the spring. He wears a tailored suit. Judging the way he stands, he's very good friends with Castiel.
And he is.
I may have fallen, but I can still hear the whispers on angel radio. And i've been hearing about this man for years, ever since I heard Castiel's voice shout, "Dean Winchester is saved!" loud and clear.
It's the one Castiel raised from Hell.
"Well, this is a Catholic girl's school," I say, looking back at Castiel. "You can't walk around here unless you have authority to."
Castiel starts to say something, but Dean holds up a hand, reaches into his pocket, and pulls out an FBI badge. "Believe me, little girl," he says scornfully, holding out the badge so I could read it. "We have authority to be here."
I pluck the badge out of his hand and take a look at it. "Please. You aren't an FBI agent." I throw it back at him. He snatches it out of the air. He looks at Castiel. Castiel reaches into his long trenchcoat and takes out an FBI badge of his own. "Miss, I'm Agent Perry-"
"You're aren't crap," I say waving a hand at his badge dismissively. "Neither is your boyfriend." Dean blushes and looks at the floor. "His badge is fake," I continue, matching Castiel's icy glare with one of my own. "I'm willing to bet your is, too."
They looks at each other. "How did you know?" asks Dean.
"Well first of all, my dad works at the FBI crime lab in uptown Salina. he's always getting new badges, and he's not even an agent. And your badge was from, like, two years ago." Dean makes a face. "Second, you don't act like agents. You're not wearing sunglasses inside-"
"Wearing sunglasses inside and at night is a douche move."
"Agreed, Mr. Whoever-you-are. And you don't carry yourself like agents. You're slouching-" I point at Castiel- "And you're wearing a trenchcoat. Agents never wear trenchcoats."
"I told you not to wear that thing, Cas," Dean hisses under his breath.
"And lastly, you're not wearing the pin."
"The pin?" Dean echoes.
"Yep. My father told me that all agents wear an American flag pin on their lapel unless they're undercover. And you're not very undercover."
"Wow. Okay." Deans looks impressed. Castiel rolls his eyes.
"So you're not FBI agents. Why are you in this building?"
"We're here looking for Ashley Taylor," Castiel says.
I smile. "Ash? She's home by now. Why do you need her?"
"We're representatives from Stanford. We came to talk to her."
"Then why are you toting around fake FBI badges?" I ask, folding my arms.
"We're not really supposed to talk to students before they arrive at college in the fall. We're teachers, you see. But we figured we had to make an exception."
"Oh, really, what do you teach?"
"Oh, um… ancient history. Mostly about wars and weapons and stuff. A fun class, if I do say so myself.. Perry here teaches world religions," Dean says.
"I'll text Ashley if you want," I offer.
"No, thanks. We'll catch her tomorrow." Castiel clears his throat. "You get back to whatever you were doing."
"Okay." I turn and try not to bolt into the choir room.
"Ashley, where have you been?" Mrs. Domingo says. "We've been waiting for you so you could sing your solo."
"Sorry, Mrs. Domingo," I say, trying to slow my breath.
"What's wrong, Ashley?" she asks. "You look like you've seen a ghost!"
Not a ghost, I think. An angel.