Hello! Oh man, it's been a while since I've been able to get to this fic. I won't bore you guys with the details, but I basically took on multiple projects at once and this one kind of fell to the wayside. I'm really sorry about that. I just made a list of things I had to get done and this sort of ended up lower on the list than I had meant it to. I really love this fic and I meant to spend more time on it despite it not having many readers. I'm guessing Emma stories just aren't that big, but you guys that do like it were always so kind in reviews I never felt I needed a ton of fans for it. So I guess this is just a thank you for being so patient and kind with me.
Chapter 7: Emanuel
The cabin felt cold, despite the heat being turned on to full blast. Winter seemed to be coming on strong now, and every time the door or windows creaked when a cold gust of wind came it felt like it seeped through just to seek Emma out. Her father had bought her a few things for the weather, sweaters and leggings to wear under her jeans along with a coat instead of her normal tan jacket, but it wasn't helping much. The whole place seemed cold to her, the feeling had been following her for a while now, that numb, sickly feeling of getting bad news.
There had been too much bad news lately. It was starting to make her feel numb and helpless, not a sensation she could say she was fond of.
Dean had told her about the monsters, the Leviathans, but seeing them up close had been terrifying. She wasn't supposed to get involved, just along in the truck to haul away cursed antiques and making a fast stop to help out the store owner. They hadn't booked a hotel in the town yet and so she'd had no place to go when Dean had received the call in the coffee shop that Scott Freeman had looked in a mirror and had apparently been cursed.
"Safe enough for you to come along. Don't touch anything," he told her firmly. Ever since the incident with the fury, he refused to let her get out of sight for longer than five minutes at a time, seeming more scared to leave her behind than to risk bringing her with. So far there hadn't been anything more dangerous than a pair of shoes, so she'd been allowed to follow along under proper supervision. Then when they'd rushed in… those two monsters saw the three of them… Emma had never seen something so terrifying before and had been no help at all in the sudden fight. Even when she'd tried to attack the thing lunging at her father, she'd been grabbed and overpowered as if she had no more strength than a normal human in a shocking display of power from the creature. Tossed through a door before she'd even had time to react, Dean had been thrown in after and crashed right into her. She remembered him screaming at her to run, trying to get between her and the Leviathan even as he winced in pain over splintered wood and shattered glass. If it hadn't been for Sam decapitating the creature before she could get too close Emma didn't know what would have happened.
Her partner seemed more than willing to let them go, and while Dean didn't like the thought of any of those things knowing the face of Emma, he didn't seem curious at all about her. He was more than willing to eat his boss and be done with it, explaining their plans for this place to cure cancer and promise not to even tell anyone that they'd been here. The Winchesters would have loved to kill him too, but with no way to feasibly do it, they were kind of stuck. The male one would have to eat his boss to keep her dead and then there would be no one to take care of him. In the end Dean had pushed Emma to the truck with him following behind, eager to get out of the town and get to Frank.
There had been so much blood in the trailer, so much broken in there, despite there being no body they were all sure that the hacker was long dead and gone. Her father had cursed and kicked a cupboard and had seemed defeated by the whole mess.
None of that compared to Sam though.
He'd been admitted to the psyche ward only a short time ago, a couple days. Hit by a car, locked up, and no way to get him out even though no one in there could help him. Her uncle had looked so lost, so hopeless about everything, laying in the bed in that hospital and just looking like he was waiting for it to all stop while his brother looked on at him and seeming just as lost.
Her eyes flickered up as she watched her father make call after call, pacing around the cabin and grab another beer from the fridge. Dean was determined to save Sam but it didn't seem like he was having any luck and the stress was clearly starting to get to him.
"That's your third one already," she commented softly. She didn't know what else to do. She wanted to help but how could she? This all seemed to much for her, too big and huge.
"Yeah, well I can't drink and talk on the phone at the same time or I'd be up a couple higher," he said without a laugh. The teenager got the feeling he wasn't telling a joke and just looked down at her lap, feeling admonished. "Wait… Emma..."
She felt the seat sink down as he sat down next to her. For a while he didn't say anything, neither of them did, but she leaned in and rested her head on his shoulder.
"It's going to be okay, Father," she breathed to him as she hugged him.
"You shouldn't be the one telling me that," he whispered, hugging her back. "No kid should have to tell their dad that… ever. I'm the one who's supposed to worry about this stuff."
"It's a lot different than fighting a nixie," she confessed. "That hunt… it made me feel like I was ready for this but..."
She shut her eyes tight, trying not to think about her uncle in that hospital, right on death's door. It had never really hit her just how scary that could be, being that worried about someone, feeling so hopeless. Them being nearly drowned had worried her but here there were no monsters to fight, no way just to beat the problem down. Her strength would do her no good here. It was starting to occur to her that fear had to be something Dean lived with every day. There wasn't a moment anymore he didn't look at her without worry shining in his eyes.
"I'm gonna save him, Emma. Nothing is going to happen," he promised her. "There's a cure out there. Just had to find the right info. That's all."
He patted her on the head before he got back up and went back to going over the list, making yet another call and leaving a message. It didn't seem like a lot of these people answered their phones right away, a real problem since they were short on time.
"Uncle said the fury was able to make the visions go away," she stated. "Maybe she could help?"
He glanced at her, opening his mouth to surely say no before he sighed and waved his hand for her to continue.
"Don't really know a lot about that kind of demon, but at this rate… tell me about them. Do they heal people?" he asked her. It said something about how desperate he was that he was willing to hear her out on this instead of just refusing. He had not liked the fury at all, grabbing their things and driving them out of town the second she'd left. There hadn't ever been an explanation on what had spooked her so badly or who Michael was, and the Amazon had not had it in her to ask again. The most she'd ever gotten was that it was someone dangerous but who was locked away and couldn't hurt her or anyone.
She was too frazzled at this point to even want to know anyway. They kept so much from her, what exactly was wrong with Sam, what was keeping him up, who all these enemies were that would surely hurt her if they knew about her existence. It didn't really bother her anymore. Her father had too much on his plate for her to badger him and demand information he did not want to give.
"They're not really known for their healing, no," she admitted. It was probably a long shot but what other option was there right now? "They are three of them. Alecto, Tisiphone, and Megaera all sisters that live in the underworld. They punish the guilty and each one of them is responsible for different crimes. They used to be just creatures of vengeance, but now serve justice under the supervision of Athena and the other gods, and must prove the one charged with the crime guilty before they punish them. She said herself though that Sam wasn't guilty. Maybe she can get rid of whatever is hurting him. Is it some kind of punishment that he's suffering from?"
"Seems we've been getting punished our whole damn lives," Dean sighed. "Doesn't sound like a lot to go on but what else we got? How do we get in contact with her?"
"I… I don't know. I wasn't taught any summoning rituals before I was sent after you," she said. "I don't even know if she'd come. It's not like we have a crime to accuse someone of, but if my sisters think you kidnapped me and told her that to enlist her help, that might be part of the requirements."
He paused for a second before nodding.
"Get on the computer and start looking it up. I'll keep making calls and look through some books while I'm at it," he said. "Good thinking, Emma."
She brightened up and nodded before rushing to the laptop and tried to find something useful for them to use. The feeling of the cold picked up again, her breath coming out visible for a second but she ignored it and only tugged her coat on tighter. She saw her father reach for the flask by the computer before she grabbed it and moved it out of his way.
"Father… please. You need to be able to focus for Sam," she said to him. He gave her a look before snatching it up anyway and taking a swig. Well, she had tried.
An hour of searching did not bring up the results she was looking for, mostly finding websites for information of legends but nothing about actually getting in contact with one. She was starting to wonder if she was just wasting time when a book suddenly landed down in front of her, causing her to jump.
"Can you read this?" he asked her, pointed to the words. There was a picture of three woman screeching as they flew down over a man running away that looked remarkably similar to Megaera's form, the words under the picture in a script that was not English.
"Yes!" she cried out happily. "This is Attic Greek. It was used in Attica, where Athens was and Athena worshiped most prominently. I was taught these letters by Mother!"
She quickly scanned the book, running her fingers over the page. Despite not knowing the language, Dean had been right on the mark from the looks of this. It had all the information she needed for a summoning and she quickly went to the cupboards to grab jars and candles.
"Do we even have everything we need or do I need to go out and get some supplies?" Dean asked.
"No, everything is here. Looks like all the ingredients are pretty common things."
"That's convenient. About time we got some luck around here."
"Considering everyone who calls them are victims, people down on their luck, it was probably done that way to ensure they could summon the furies. It wouldn't do any good to say you needed the spring waters or a mountain half way around the world or something like that," she guessed.
"So what do we do?"
"We'll need chalk to draw on the floor, about five feet of space," she told him. "The symbol is right on the page. Get that copied down and I'll get the ingredients set up. This shouldn't take long."
He shoved furniture aside to make room and began drawing, checking the book several times to make sure he got it right while she put the materials in a mortar bowl and began to crush them. Once they were both ready, she pulled her knife from her pants but he grabbed her wrist to stop her.
"Let me guess, you have to bleed to complete the spell?" he asked her.
"Yes. It's part of the spell. I cut myself and get the blood on these herbs, then set it on fire. If she hears my call then she'll come," she said. "I have a better chance of getting her attention than you do."
"Alright," he said after a moment. "Give me the knife. I don't want you to cut yourself too deep."
The likelihood of that happening was beyond remote. She knew how to handle her weapon, but she didn't argue and instead handed it to him. Holding her palm in one of his hands, he breathed for a moment as he gripped the golden blade in the other, seeming like he was preparing himself for it. She was just about to tell him she could handle it on her own but he finally set the blade to her skin and drug it over her palm. She winced a bit, being reminded of her initiation, but otherwise stood firm. This was not the same as that, not in the slightest. That had been forced on her. She was more than willing to bleed for her family, would endure pain if it would mean saving her uncle.
"Okay, do it," he said with a nod. She grabbed the crushed herbs and worked it between her hands, getting them as covered as she could before placing them in the middle of the circle. Once done, he grabbed a water bottle to wash off her hand and wrapped it up in some cloth. He struck a match and threw it on the pile before nodding to her.
Emma took a deep breathe before she picked up the book and began to read. The air around her seemed to heat up and the smell of brimstone filled her nostrils. Her eyes began to water, wanting to cough from the strength of it. The words got harder to speak, her throat beginning to burn. A sudden fit hit her as the smoke rose up, more than there should have been from such a small fire, making her cough and choke as she tilted back. Dean grabbed her shoulders and held her steady and she forced herself to get out the last of it as loud as she could. She jumped back into his chest when a fire suddenly flared up into the room. A form took shape in it before stepping out and Emma tried to keep her watering eyes open as she looked at it.
Megaera stood before them, arching her eyebrow at the sight of the two of them as the flame died down.
"No," she said immediately, turning to the door to leave.
"Oh, no you don't!" Dean snapped, getting in her way. "We called you here for a reason, you barbecued bitch. Don't you even think about walking away from us."
"Whatever you want me involved in, the answer is no. I'm not putting my neck out for you," she replied coldly. "May I remind you that you shot me? Even if you hadn't, the three of you are way too much trouble for me to risk getting involved. More than that, it's against rules."
"What rules?" he asked, irritated.
She pointed at him, touching his chest lightly, right over his heart.
"Your soul has been claimed, Dean Winchester. We know all about how you prevented the end of the world, but it doesn't mean heaven and hell don't still consider you as their property. It wouldn't be wise of anyone outside of that jurisdiction to try and interfere or take you as their own. I've no interest in sticking my neck out and risk the wrath of your angels or my gods for getting involved and if I did a job for you that is exactly how it could be perceived as. Whoever you want to bring judgment on? Ask elsewhere."
"Wait, I'm the one who summoned you, and I clearly belong to the proper pantheon," Emma interjected. "So that shouldn't matter."
The fury looked less sure of that, her expression softening as she sighed.
"You are… complicated. Technically speaking you are correct, but you are your father's daughter. That muddies the waters a little," she stated.
"All Amazons are daughters of fathers who don't share our faith."
"And usually that wouldn't matter since most of those humans don't have the destinies he did," she scoffed. "However… I will admit you're an interesting one. An Amazon leaving the tribe is all but unheard of. It could be seen as a sign you've chosen-"
"I chose my father but I'm an Amazon as well as any other," she argued fiercely. "I won't allow anyone to say otherwise, not even a servant of the gods. I am proud of my blood and my faith!"
Megaera paused for a moment before putting one black stained finger to her chin, thinking it over before nodding her head.
"Fine. I will hear your request of justice," she stated. "Who wronged you, Emma Winchester?"
"I wasn't wronged really, but you were able to help my uncle before. He said you made his visions go away. He's sick, in a hospital and needs help. If you can banish what's ailing him, I'd be so grateful."
The fury sighed.
"I can't."
"Can't or wont?" Dean asked bitterly.
"Both," she replied honestly. "If Sam is suffering further due to his affliction there's nothing I can do for him. I could banish his guilt, and the images, for a time, but only moments. It would be like taking an aspirin for a broken arm. Whatever little relief it would give would be pointless in the end. Besides, offering remedies is not my job."
"Oh bullshit," he growled.
"It's the truth," she said. "If you believe me or not, it won't change matters. I'm no healer and what little I could do would be of no affect in the long run. I would suggest finding someone else to help you, if you can find it in yourself to ask politely."
He advanced on her, but the fury was already gone. His fist clenched in anger, he took the book from Emma's grasp and threw it against the wall.
"God damn it!" he yelled. "Why is it nothing ever works?! Why is it these uptight pricks can never get off their asses and do anything to help us?!"
"I'm sorry. This was my idea and instead of helping we just wasted time," Emma apologized.
"It's… you were trying to help. It's alright," he said, though she wasn't sure if that was true. "I'm gonna get back to making calls. If you think of anything else, let me know."
"She mentioned angels," she pointed out. "Perhaps you could contact someone of your faith?"
"It's not faith," he muttered. "There's a difference in knowing something is out there and putting your faith in it."
"I don't understand."
"Yeah, well let me put it this way. Those gods and spirits and everything else? They don't care about me. They don't care about Sam. They don't care about you. They use humans, chew them up and spit them out. I know they exist but I don't believe in any of them to make not a single thing better, not unless they can get something out of it."
"Then the angels used you?" she asked. Did this have to do with whoever Michael was?
"They tried to," he breathed before shaking his head. "At least..."
"Father?" she questioned when he hesitated.
It looked like he wanted to say something but she didn't know what. He seemed to be pulling back again but not with the fierce determination of previous refusals to tell her what was going on. He seemed withdrawn, smaller, almost hurt.
"There was one… he was different. He was…" he said before swallowing and rubbing at his face. "Well, he was a dick but he tried. He tried so hard and gave up so much to help me. If there was one I could say I had faith in, it was him. If he had any flaw it was he always took on too much. He felt he had to help, had to always throw himself in the fight no matter how much it risked himself."
"Sounds like you."
"Except in his case it lead him to making some really stupid mistakes."
"I'm not taking back my statement," she informed him, to which he shot her a look. She gave him a small smirk, showing him she was joking before he shook his head and patted her on the shoulder.
"Brat," he muttered. "You're getting a mouth on you. Guess that's my fault. Anyway, guess it's back to work."
"Want me to help make some calls?" she asked but he shook his head.
"I'm having enough trouble getting any information out of them and some of these hunters know me," he informed her. "A young girl calling on the phone with no ready explanation how you know Bobby? Not likely. You didn't even meet him before he died so you'd know nothing about him, and these paranoid sons a bitches love asking questions on details to ensure they're talking to the genuine article. Just leave it to me. Tell you what, why don't you make dinner and then look through some more books. Maybe we can find another being that'd be willing to help us out."
He grabbed the little leather book of contacts before giving it a second thought and tossing it down onto the table to grab another drink. However a breeze seemed to blow by and knock it over, causing Dean to look at it uncertainly.
"Did you..."
"I didn't touch it. I think this place has a draft. I keep feeling chills," she said, though she wasn't so sure. She'd seen it move and a little breeze knocking off a book that thick and heavy seemed unlikely.
He stooped down to pick it up, looking it over before grabbing a small green card for Mackey's Taxidermy. Flipping it over, they saw there was a cell phone number written on it. Though they glanced at each other uncertainly, he quickly pulled out his phone to call.
He waited a while before closing his eyes in annoyance.
"Yeah, hi. Uh… my name's Dean. I'm a friend of Bobby Singer's. Looking for some info. If you could call me back," he said before leaving his contact number. His tone didn't sound very hopeful.
"I'll start on dinner," she said, turning to the kitchen before stopping and suddenly giving him a hug. He could say all he wanted that it wasn't her place to offer him comfort but she wasn't going to listen to that. They needed each other to get through this and she would not allow him to face it alone, even if all she could do was offer small comforts like this.
He hugged her back tightly, resting his chin on the top of her head.
"It's gonna be okay," he breathed though she didn't know if he was talking to her or himself at this point.
She nodded and smiled up at him. Best to keep their spirits up she supposed. Walking off, she started to pull out some cans for dinner. They didn't have a lot, mostly just spaghettios, snack foods and other such junk but it was certainly better than going hungry. Though she was starting to see why he preferred to hit diners as much as possible. It was the closest thing to a home cooked meal they'd ever been able to have on the road. She hadn't had a proper meal like that since her mother had last made her lunch before sending her off for training.
A thought hit her that she probably should have asked the fury for information on her mother and the tribe, maybe where they were or what their reaction to being told she was still alive and a willing traveler to the Winchesters now. She couldn't help but wonder what they would think of that. Then again, it might not have mattered. They did not have the time to track them down now and they'd be long gone from wherever they were staying before she and Dean could arrive even if they did. He might even be stubborn enough to go on his own if he thought it was worth it.
Besides that, she didn't think she cared what the tribe thought of her. Every moment she spent as a Winchester made her care less about her tribe and the horrible things they'd wanted her to do. Yes, she was an Amazon, but she was going to find her own meaning behind her blood, not allow anyone to dictate to her what it meant. She might never be allowed to hunt but she knew who her family was and nothing was going to change that.
Once the meal, such as it was, was heated up, she handed it to him so they could eat, him mostly spooning the food in while looking over websites on the computer. The teenager left him to it, and began to look through the books like she'd been asked to. Not that it helped much. A lot of it she didn't know the language to. She had not yet got to Latin after all. If he knew it, she would have to ask him to teach her sometime or try to learn it on her own.
A couple hours passed and she was just thinking she should check up on him and remind him that sleep would be a good idea when she heard his phone ring. Curious, she sneaked back into the room as quietly as she could, not wanting to make too much noise and distract him. He seemed to be in a conversation with someone, though she couldn't really tell what was being discussed from the short snippets of what her father was saying. After a few moments he went silent except giving a small thank you and hanging up.
"Bad news?" she asked him from the expression on his face, but he was already surging forward to grab his car keys.
"We're going to Colorado," he said. "Now. Grab your coat."
She didn't protest or ask what was going on, knowing by now obeying was the best option. That tone of voice was a rare one from her father, but she'd been through enough with him by now to know it wasn't best to delay him with questions or comments. They sped off down the road quickly and he seemed to be in a rush.
"What's in Colorado?" she asked him, once she felt it was safe enough to mention it.
"Some kind of healer," he replied. "Just got a call back from the number on the card. He said he knows someone who can help us. Emanuel is his name, married to a woman named Daphne. Apparently she sends him out to help people. We're going to try and track him down, pick him up and get him to Sam if it seems like he can cure him."
She didn't ask what they would do if he couldn't. She wasn't sure there would be much more time after that and those were the kind of thoughts she would rather not dwell on.
They only stopped once to grab some coffee before heading out again. As it was, they didn't make arrive until morning and it was a bit out of their way as it was. Even if the healer would come with them right away, it would be nightfall again before they arrived back at the hospital. Emma was starting to feel anxious, the time seeming to slip away faster and faster. Telling herself firmly that in a couple days they could have Sam back was the only thing that kept her sane about the whole issue.
"Should I stay in the car?" she asked as he climbed out.
"No, but stay by the gate. I was told this was legit, but something might still be up. I'd rather talk to this guy for a bit first before I make any judgment calls."
She nodded her head and followed him to the house, staying back a bit as he'd been asked. Though if this was a trap of some kind, the so called healer had found a very quaint and nice place to hole up in. Didn't look very suspicious. Then again, she supposed that might be the point. Not like Lydia's home had come with a sign over it. 'Warning for all men. Sex in this home will result in death.'
Her father went up to the porch and knocked on it, and she watched idly as a man came outside, introducing himself as Emanuel. She wasn't sure what faith healers looked like, but she could only guess he fit the bill. He looked fairly unassuming, though she was shocked when she saw his eyes go black and Dean was suddenly gripped by his jacket and thrown against the door.
Despite knowing he would surely want her to run away, she was about to rush up the steps to try and help him. However before she could even move, she felt someone come up behind her and touch her shoulder. Whirling around to strike out at whoever the backup was, she nearly cried out in pain when she punched the man right in the chin only to feel like she'd smashed her fist right into solid steel. In fact, she was sure steel would have actually given way to her. He didn't even look affected. Wondering if her knife would even do her any good, she didn't even have a chance to draw it before a body rolled down the steps, the demon dead at her feet. Dean looked down at the two of them, shock evident all over his face.
"What was that?" the stranger asked, looking up at her father, though he seemed to be at a loss for words.
"Emma, grab the body. Move it into the bushes," he ordered after a moment as he quickly looked up and down the street. Luckily it seemed like no one had seen the confrontation. She grabbed the body and drug it as quickly into the foliage as she could. It wouldn't remain hidden for long, but no one would see it just walking by.
"I think it might be best to go inside," the stranger said, nodding to the house. She couldn't help but feel he was being awfully calm about seeing someone in front of him getting killed, and her father looked so off kilter. Something was wrong here.
Still, they moved inside where it would be safe to talk and the man moved to a woman tied to a chair, working to undo her bindings. Just what was going on here?
"Did they hurt you?" he asked her.
"I'm okay," she assured him once she was free, reaching up to touch his face tenderly. "But Emanuel, they were looking for you."
"It's okay," he replied as he took her hand and led her to Emma and Dean. He extended his hand to shake but Emma didn't really want to touch him and her father only did so after a moment of hesitation. "I am Emanuel."
"Dean. I'm… I'm Dean," he introduced himself. "This is Emma. She's my… She's my daughter."
The hesitation caused her to wonder but she didn't find herself insulted. Something was off kilter with her father. He didn't seem at all comfortable here and she wasn't sure it was from the fight. He kept staring at the healer, as if he was the cause of all his issues.
"Thank you for protecting my wife," he said, seeming not to notice the stiff mood in the room or at least politely ignoring it.
"You're wife?" Dean asked, almost seeming to stumble over the word. "Right."
"I saw his face," Emanuel confessed to said wife. "His true face."
"He was a demon," Dean said, his tone carrying as if this was supposed to mean something to him.
"A demon walked the earth," he whispered, seeming shocked and horrified at the knowledge.
"Demons," he corrected as if this should already be common knowledge. "Whackloads of them. You don't know about..."
He drifted off, seeming unable or unwilling to continue.
"You saw the demon's true face," Daphne said, smiling a little. Emma felt an itch crawl up her spine as she looked over the woman, something not at all right about how calm she was being about all of this. Something was wrong and no one seemed willing to say it. "Emanuel has very special gifts."
"Yeah. I've heard that about… Emanuel. That you can heal people up."
"I seem able to help to certain degree," he admitted. "What's your issue?"
"My brother," he said. "He needs help. He's in a hospital and no one can help him. You're my last option."
"Of course. I'll do whatever I can to help you, Dean."
Her father seemed to flinch back at those words before mutely nodding.
"Right. Well, let's go then," he said, turning quickly. He couldn't seem to watch the sight of the two as Emanuel drew his wife close in a hug, their foreheads touching gently.
"I need to go. I'll return soon," he promised her.
She smiled and traced a hand down his arm.
"Be safe," she said before she let him go and the healer walked out with them.
Emma cast one last look at Daphne, the sense of unease never leaving her until she finally turned around the left too, the sound of the door closing behind them. She didn't seem the look of pain on the woman's face, sighing as she locked the door slowly.
"I'm never going to see him again, am I?" she asked softly, her fingers trailing over the wood, watching through the window of the door until they were gone.
"Remains to be seen. Probably not. Plans are being rearranged but still doubtful," a clipped voice said behind her. Daphne didn't jump, only sighed again and turned to face who was in her house, a woman with long blond hair and a hard expression on her face. "You've done your part. That's enough. We have others to see to."
"He's going to be hurt out there, won't he?" Daphne asked. "It might have just been common law, but he's still my husband. Of course I'm worried about him. If there's anyway I can still help..."
"You want to help? Him, you can't. Though if you're willing there's another you might need to see to soon. Someone is going to need to be kept safe. If you're that eager, we can give the job to you."
Daphne quickly nodded her head.
"Thank you, Atropos," she breathed. "I won't let you down."
"Right. Just be careful not to get in too deep. You're just a water nymph after all. Not even a match for one demon. The Leviathans are going to eat you alive if you take a wrong step. You sure you don't want to stick to just rescuing Castiel for us?"
"I'll serve the fates however you need me to. If we're allowed to get involved, then I'm getting involved. That Amazon girl opened the door for us. We need to help if we can."
"Don't be so altruistic," Atropos snorted. "If it were up to me, Castiel would have drowned in that river you found him in. If there was ever a spanner in the works it was that lousy angel."
End of Chapter
For those curious about Daphne the nymph, there are a couple stories about her in mythology largely concerning how Apollo was in love with her and she refused to sleep with men. Considering Castiel never went back to her, I'd assumed they didn't really have a relationship on that level.