Chapter Two
"Death makes angels of us all and gives us wings where we had shoulders smooth as ravens claws."
- Jim Morrison
Dotted rays of golden light streamed through the shades, casting their light down upon the slumbering form of a broken man. His skin was pale, near sickly so, and his hair lay in tangled tuffs around his head. His chest rose steadily, soft breaths puffing out across the irritating material of the bed sheets - staying in a run down shack of a motel did not bode well for luxurious items, not that the man had ever needed any. The shrill screams of his phone from across the room weren't nearly enough to draw him from the bed, nor was the dim thought of a warm shower. It wasn't until there was a heavy rapping at the door that he finally drew himself away from the warmth of the bed, though when the door was pulled open and light of day was cast into the room, he regretted the decision immensely. "Deano," his guest greeted coolly, side-stepping the hunter to enter the room, eyes too blue to seem logical squinty around the corners as a slow grin spread across pale skin. The day before had been easy - frighteningly so, considering how good of a night's sleep he'd gotten - but the night had been impossible. When he'd finally managed to drag himself back to the shabby motel, he'd collapsed and promptly accepted the darkness and fell into a deep, fitful slumber. And now, being woken by the Fallen Leader, Dean didn't know how he could have pissed 'God' off so much.
With a low sigh, Dean turned on his heels, door falling shut as he strode past the intruder and collapsed back on the bed, too tired to worry as to why the Fallen Angel was there. When the other's gaze settled on him, unrelenting and determined, Dean let out a frustrated snarl and rolled onto his back, "What do you want, Lucifer?" The grin that spread across the Angel's face could only be described as the smile a young child got on Christmas Morning.
"So glad you asked," the man chirped, striding over to the bed and gracefully sitting on it's edge. "You see, my demons are getting uncontrollable in my absence. I'm curious as to why you've done nothing to stop them. We have a very easy balance, Hunters and Demons that is. Hunters slay demons. So why is my favorite little hunter not hunting as he should?" Lucifer's eyes sparked with a flicker of… well something, before the predatory glint returned. Dean knew that was a bullshit answer, though he made no move to rebuke it. With his eyes shut and his skin crawling, Dean forced himself to become use to the other man's presence.
"I don't hunt anymore," he confessed softly, words barely a whisper but knowing the Fallen could hear him. And he didn't, hunt that is. He'd given that life up the prior year, the loss had been too great - Bobby, Castiel, Ellen, Jo. How was he to go on when they were all gone? Even Sam wasn't with him anymore, though his baby brother wasn't dead exactly. He breathed out a sigh and pushed himself up, moving to grab his duffle bag from the chair by the window, tossing random items in carelessly. "I'm not part of your little war anymore. I'm done. So buzz of." His words lacked their usual defiance, dead in their own right. Lucifer watched the young Winchester silently, head cocked ever so slightly to the side.
"He was right, you have given up," Lucifer's words barely registered in Dean's mind, the words too soft to hear clearly. When he turned his head back to the Fallen angel though, Dean startled. The other being was closer to him before, the tip of his nose brushing against the dark fabric of Lucifer's shirt. "What happened to you, Mihi Fortis?" Arms, cool and strong, curled around him briefly; the tingle of acceptance, or love even, spiked through Dean. For a moment, however brief, Dean wanted to sink into the embrace, wanted to let himself feel the relief and security the other man was offering. When realization that it was Lucifer, The Morning Star, that was hugging him however, he jerked away with a growl, emerald orbs cold and filled with a fury Lucifer had yet to see.
"Don't touch me. I don't know what you're doing here, can't say I give a damn, but get out. I ain't given up on anything, I've moved on. So fuck off." Dean turned his back to the other man, throwing more items into the duffle bag before jerking it up and storming out the door. With the bag successfully thrown into the back seat of the Impala, Dean turned one last time to Lucifer, "I don't know who 'He' is, but if I catch any of you or your lackies near me, I'll kill you where you stand." With those fleeting words, Dean slid into the Drivers seat and ignited the ignition. He ripped out of the Parking Lot. If another angel appeared beside Lucifer, he didn't notice. He didn't see the worry crossing either's features or the way both shared a sad side glance to one another. All Dean knew was that he needed to get away. From everything.
Hey guys, so here's another chapter. I know it's not the best ever, but I'm still just getting into this ;P I promise it'll get better and less confusing! More to come as to why Sam isn't around and why Dean "no longer hunts." Maybe the next chapter or the one after! Anyways, hope you enjoyed! Please Review!
Thanks,
Sallian
