January 5th, 2014
Whitefish, Montana
The cabin was surrounded by the thick, grey darkness of the early morning, and the only source of relief was from the slowly-dying fire that popped and crackled in the stone fireplace. The room was silent bar the rhythmic thud thud thud as Alex bounced a small, green bouncy ball off of the floor and wall. It was Ashiel's, one of few that hadn't been sent back to heaven with him. She had found it tucked beneath the cushions of the brown couch. The young angel was alone; both of the Winchesters back on the road and out looking for cases, and Castiel was still awol.
An owl screeched from outside the window, and Alex flicked her wing in fleeting annoyance. The bird had been a frequent visitor to oak tree beside the cabin for the past week, and its cry sounded like the scream of a young child. The angel snorted in amusement at the memory of Dean had stormed outside four days ago at three in the morning, gun in his hands as he muttered curses under his breath. He had fired two shots at that wretched bird. The forest had been silent for the next two days, but before long the owl returned. That was when the Winchesters left.
The opening chords of Welcome to the Family erupted from her phone, and the bounce of the ball ceased as Alex looked up. That was her personal phone, which meant there was only five people it could possibly be. She dragged herself across the room and over to the couch, grasping up along the cushions for her phone. "Hello?" she answered, falling back onto the ground.
"Hey, it's Sam."
"Yeah, I know." Alex bounced the ball onto the ground and caught it when it returned upwards. "Caller ID. What's up? Everything okay?"
"Yeah. Listen, we're in Farmington Hills, Michigan. Garth called us up here on a case." She heard the sound of an engine coughing to life, followed by the slam of a car door. "I know you said that you wanted a few days to yourself, but this one sounded like something you would like." He waited until Alex hummed out a note of partially-interested curiosity before he continued, "A man got drawn and quartered last night."
The angel sat up straight, head cocked. "Drawn and quartered?" she repeated, unable to keep the keen interest out of her voice. "Like torn limb from limb by horses. In Michigan."
"In his bedroom," Sam added. "Yeah. If you're interested, we're on our way to the police station right now to talk to this guy who threatened to kill the vic last night. He said he was 'a mage' and was going to make Ed 'bleed for his crimes.' "
"So witchcraft." Alex moved so she was sitting up on the couch. "Witch hunts are always pretty interesting," she admitted as she leaned back against the cushions. "When did you say you guys were gonna interrogate him?"
"In the next fifteen minutes if at all possible."
"Huh. Okay, yeah, I'll bite. I'll meet you guys there." Alex hung up and shoved her phone into her back pocket. "Witches. Fun fun," she told the ball in her hands. She rolled it between her fingers for a second or two before she returned it to rest safely in her jacket pocket. "Guess I'll go get dressed."
...
Farmington Hills, Michigan
Alex landed in front of the Impala, shaking her wings so the feathers would lay flat as she watched the two brothers get out of the car. She turned her head up towards the sky; the sun was already above the horizon. What a difference a timezone made, the angel mused as she patiently waited for the Winchesters to join her on the sidewalk. Sam gave her a small nod as he straightened his tie, and Alex reciprocated the gesture before she turned to Dean. "Well?" she asked, hands going into her pockets. "So what would you guys like me to do?" She followed them up to the police station. "I can go over the case file or go sweep the crime scene."
"Done and done. Apartment was spotless; no signs of sulphur, EMF, or hex bags. Come on." Dean held open the door, and she and Sam entered. "You can tell us if this guy has any mojo." He stepped inside and raised his hand in greeting towards a man approaching from their left; Alex turned her head to see a tall, heavyset gentleman moving towards them, and a quick look at his badge told her he had to be the sheriff.
"Agents." The man greeted them with a nod. "Is she one of yours?" he added with a look down at Alex.
"Special agent Lydia Rucker." Alex pulled out her badge for the sheriff to inspect before she tucked it back inside her jacket.
"Huh. Thought you guys only worked in twos."
"I think you've been watching too much tv." Alex's wings flicked as she watched a young, scrawny man in handcuffs disappear down the hall. "I believe we're here to question one of your suspects?"
"Lance Jacobsen, yes. He's the best lead we have on Ed Nelson's death — I figure you've heard about it."
"Drawn and quartered. Yes, I heard." Alex tipped her head towards the hallway which the scrawny man had gone into. "Was that him by any chance?"
"Yeah, that was him. If you guys are ready to take a crack at him, he's in the first room on your left." The sheriff directed them down the hall, and when Alex turned back from where his finger was pointed, the man was gone.
She followed Sam and Dean through the station and into the interrogation room. "Lance Jacobsen?" Sam asked, and he and Dean sat down at the metal table across from the young man. "We're with the FBI." Alex nodded in accordance with the hunter's words, standing off to the side as she crossed her arms.
"The FBI?" Lance's lip quivered as he looked at the three of them. "I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe Ed's dead." Tears filled his eyes, and he burst into a loud sob. Alex watched him cry into his hands with barely disguised frustration.
"Lance?" Dean clearly seemed to feel the same. "Lance, just — just breathe. Just breathe. You're fine." The man sniffled, trying to stifle his sobs, but a second later he burst back into tears. Dean's shoulders fell, exasperated, and he reached for his cup of coffee with a shake of his head.
"We just need to ask you a few questions," Sam explained. "Try to calm down."
Lance wiped his eyes with a hiccup and a sniffle, and Dean took a sip of his drink before he asked, "We want to know about the, uh — the texts you sent to Ed last night."
"I told them when they brought me in those text weren't from me!"
"Yeah, well, your phone says otherwise," Alex retorted from where she stood, but she immediately regretted her sharp tone when Lance's eyes watered once again.
His voice wavered, but he firmly stuck to his nonsensical story. "No, I mean they were from me, but they weren't from me me."
Alex raised her eyebrows, and the two Winchesters exchanged looks. The angel's eyes flickered over to meet Dean's for a quick second before the Winchester scoffed. "Did you really think that sentence was going to clear things up?"
"I'm sorry." The scrawny man let out a sigh, and he chose his next words carefully. "This is all a big misunderstanding. Those text messages were from Greyfox the Mystic to Thargrim the Difficult. Our characters in Moondor," he insisted when he saw the blank looks on the three hunter's faces. "Moondor is a game that Ed and I play. We're LARPers. Live action role playing?"
"Oh, right. LARPing." Alex nodded as the pieces clicked. "Fun times." She flicked her grace about the room, unsurprised to find nothing but three ordinary human souls. Back to square one.
"We play Moondor every other weekend at Heritage Park," Lance explained. "All the info about it is on our website."
"You guys have a website?"
"Y-Yeah, one of the players designed it. In fact," he added with a bit more conviction, "if you log onto the site, they should have posted pictures from last night's feast. I was there all night!"
"What does any of this have to do with the texts?" Sam prompted, while Alex gave a small nod of belief in the man's statement. He certainly wasn't a witch.
"I play a character named Greyfox the Mystic. I'm a very, very powerful mage in the game. Ed is … Ed was Thargrim the Difficult of the Elder Forest, son of Hargrim and Bouphin, brother to —" He cut off to see that his words were lost on the two men in front of him, and he sniffled a little before he finally said, "He was the Lancelot to my Merlin."
"Ah." Alex leaned down to rest her lips next to Sam's ear. "I don't think the guy couldn't do real magic if he tried," she murmured. "It's not him. You two finish up here, and I'll go out and take a look at this Moondor site. Make sure his story checks out." She thumped Sam on the shoulder when he nodded and walked out the door.
There was a vacant computer sitting at a desk, and Alex slid into the empty chair and pulled up a search engine. Moondor LARPing Michigan, she entered, and she clicked the first site that came up. "Welcome to Moondor, Michigan's largest LARPing game," she read aloud from the header before her eyes moved on downwards through the site. When she clicked on the picture gallery a series of photos popped up, and Alex tapped the desk when she recognized Lance Jacobsen dressed in what had to be his Moondorian garb.
"This could be 'Fifty Shades of Greyfox' for all we know," she heard Dean mutter, and she felt a hand come to rest on the back of her chair. "Hey-a, Feathers, find anything?"
"Um, Lance's alibi checks out, but twenty bucks says this place has a clue. Fantasy nuts always seem to stumble onto the crazy." Alex leaned back in the chair as Sam reached over her shoulder and clicked on a video.
The screen went black as the video kicked into full screen, and the deep, mysterious voice of a man came through the speakers. "Moondor," it boomed. "A world of intrigue, honor, passion. Four kingdoms — Followers of the Moon, Elves, Warriors of Yesteryear, and the dreaded Shadow Orcs." Small clips and images of men and woman flashed across the screen, all dressed in fantastical costumes and masks. "All will fight on the Fields of Never in the biannual Battle of the Kingdoms. Pick up the sword or mace. Take control of Moondor and defend the current ruler; the Queen of Moons."
"Wait. Is that …" Dean leaned forward over Alex's head as a very familiar face turned towards the camera. "Charlie?"
"What?" Alex narrowed her eyes as she too recognized the woman. "Wait wait wait. The gay techie?" Her wings flicked as she grinned. "Cool. Charlie was cool." She heard a sudden, panicked scream followed by the pounding of palms against glass, and she looked up in shock. "What was that?"
She pushed back the chair and ran past the two brothers, grace vibrating uncomfortably as she reached out towards the sound. The coughing and gurgling picked up, and Alex burst through the interrogation room door to see Lance Jacobsen on the floor, blood bubbling from his mouth. It was spattered all across the one-way mirror, and it soaked through his clothing. The air reeked of blood, death, and magic, and the angel's wings flittered when the man's soul left his body even as she dropped down to her knees in front of him.
"What the hell?" She heard Dean skid to a stop in the doorway, and she turned to see him and Sam peering inside, eyes wide with disbelief. "What happened?"
"He's dead." Alex turned back to the body, and for the first time she noticed something strange on the dead man's arm; she twisted it slightly to reveal more of the pale skin. "But whatever magic did this, it left this mark behind." She pointed towards the black-ink tattoo, a small yet detailed shadow of a tree, branches stretching upwards and roots reaching down. "Ever seen anything like this before?"
Dean shook his head, but Sam pushed his way past his brother. "Uh, yeah, actually." He crouched down beside Alex, and she tipped her head to see confusion in his eyes. "Ed had the exact same tattoo."
"Maybe they just had matching tats," Dean suggested skeptically. "I mean, they were brothers in arms, after all."
"No, this definitely feels strongly of magic." Alex flicked her grace against it once more to confirm, grimacing at the pins and needles it brought about. She looked back at Dean and rose to her feet. "Listen, either way, that Moondor festival is the only connection those two have. It's gotta be something there, Dean."
"Hm." Dean still didn't look convinced, but he reluctantly nodded in agreement. "Okay," he conceded, stepping back so both Alex and Sam could exit the room. "Well lucky for us, we know the queen."
...
Alex adjusted her jacket on her shoulders, wins stretched outwards and angled towards the afternoon sun. For January in Michigan, the day was surprisingly beautiful, and the sun actually managed to feel warm against her skin. Unusual weather, but truth be told, the angel wasn't complaining. She stepped up onto the concrete parking curb, eyes turned out over the large park as she waited for the Impala to arrive. She had gone back to the motel to change into her civilian clothes after agreeing that it would be best for her to go in 'under cover,' and now she was just waiting for the brothers to appear.
She could hear the Impala's rumbling purr as the car pulled up into the large asphalt parking lot, and she turned to watch the two Winchesters make their way over towards her. "Hey," she called with a small wave. "There you are. About time," she added with an upwards lift of her eyebrows.
"There was an accident on the highway," Dean grumbled, displeased with her sass. "Sue me, okay?" He stopped beside Alex and looked out over the park. "Alright, so where is this Moondor thing?"
"Um, there's a bunch of people just over those hills." Alex pointed towards where one of the paved paths disappeared from sight. "Do you guys want to go in that way, and then I'll circle around and come from the back? Maybe I'll learn more than two feds."
When Sam and Dean nodded, she jumped off of the concrete block and hurried down through the grass and towards the woods. She could feel people within the trees, sneaking around through the shadows, and she slowed down to a ambling stroll as she entered the forest. Her wings flicked at a swift burst of wind that cut through the leaves above her head, and she stuck closely to the natural pine path.
Shadows flickered in the corner of her eyes, and her grace snapped out to confirm their identities. Humans. Weirdos. She shoved her hands into her pockets as she continued onwards. The path took her up and over a rise, and for just a second, she caught a glimpse through the trees. Tents were pitched in the valley below, and smoke rose from several fires. Then the camp disappeared behind the leaves, and the angel continued onwards.
She emerged from the forest and made her way down towards the camp, grace once again flicking out ahead of her to see what she could find. A couple dozen human, along with two very familiar souls. Alex almost thought she could spot the two dark backs of the brothers before she moved down the hill and into the camp.
People moved on either side of her, all dressed in medieval-type garb, and the angel felt slightly out of place among them all. She heard a scuffle up ahead, along with the murmur and cheer of a crowd, and she slipped between two tents to see where they had gathered. She heard the thud of wooden swords, and she moved to find a better view, curious as to what was happening. Two knights were engaged in a mock battle, one slim knight wielding a realistic sword while the second had his weapon wrapped in yellow foam. Alex watched in curiosity as the slimmer knight landed several well-aimed blows upon the other, whose defense was altogether too slow and too blocky. After a minute she felt two presences stop behind her, and she flicked her wings back against the two Winchesters in an unfelt greeting.
The second knight fell to knees after another quick and lethal blow, and his head tilted up as his opponent's sword pressed up his neck. "Yield!" he cried as he dropped his sword in surrender. "I yield."
The sword fell away, and the slim knight reached up to remove their helmet. Red hair was shaken free, revealing a smooth, pale face and pale green eyes. Charlie Bradbury tucked her helmet underneath her arm as the crowd applauded, and the other knight stared up at her with wide eyes. "I love you," he breathed out.
"I know." Charlie released the swordsman, and he scrambled to his feet. "Take your leave to my medical tent and attend to your … severed limbs." She waited until the knight disappeared into the crowd before she turned to address them, her voice rising so all could hear. "Greyfox and Thorgrim are missing. We pray to the goddess they have not fallen victim to foul play. In their absence, the honor guard's ranks are weakened. To join …"
Charlie's eyes locked with Alex, and her jaw went slack as she recognized the three of them. "Oh blerg," she cursed. "Uh … The queen needs some royal 'me' time," she told her subjects. "Talk amongst thyselves." She spun around and hurried towards a large maroon tent, and murmurs and laughs rose from the crowd as they began to disperse.
Alex followed Sam across the short-cut grass, flicking her wings as she felt Dean lag behind. Sam turned around to reprimand his brother when Dean picked up the fallen sword and murmured, "Nice balance," but Alex continued on into the tent.
"Charlie," she began as heavy tent curtain swung closed behind her.
"Charlie Bradbury is dead." The woman threw her clothes into a worn suitcase without turning to look back at the angel. "She died a year ago. You killed her." She pulled off her arm guards and shoved them into the bag as well, a short burst of anger fueling her movements. "My name is Carrie Heinlein. Oh, and guess what." She turned to look at Alex as both brothers entered the tent. "You've killed her, too."
Dean stepped forward. "Okay, uh, listen …"
"No." Charlie cut him off with a finger pointed at his chest. " I buried myself. Then Dick Roman went down, his company went belly-up, and I figured, 'hey, it's all good,' and I was fine. Now you're here, and if you guys are here, monsters are here. Why do I have such bad luck?" she lamented as she shoved another piece of her costume into her bag. "What am I — a monster magnet?" The woman paused, and then she turned around, eyes wide. "Is there such thing as a monster magnet? You know what? Don't answer that." She turned back to her things. "What I care about is not getting my other arm broken … or dying." She picked up her bag and her crown and turned back to them. "So, I'm dropping my sword and walking off the stage, bitches." She put the golden crown on Dean's head as she passed by. "Have fun storming the castle."
"Charlie. Charlie!" Dean's sharp voice had the woman pausing at the tent entrance. "Greyfox and Thorgrim — uh, Ed and Lance — they're not missing. They're dead."
"Wait. What?" Charlie's eyes flickered over the three hunters as the shock of Dean's words set in. "A-Are — you're not joking, are you?"
"No." Alex firmly shook her head. "Lance was found dead in the police station from internal bleeding, and Ed — Ed was, uh, drawn and quartered in his bedroom." She stepped back as Charlie moved past, and she followed the woman over to the large round table. Alex sat down alongside the Winchesters as she added, "Moondor is the only connection they really had, and given the … nature of this place, we have a hunch whatever's doing this is here."
"D-Do you have any idea what's doing this?"
Dean reached into his suit coat pocket and pulled out a photograph from Ed's case folder. Alex was just able to catch a glimpse of the strange tree tattoo before he slid it over to Charlie. "Well, aside from this, uh, mark, and both of them being LARPers, there's really not much else to go on."
"Wait. I've seen this before." Charlie picked up the photograph with a look of intense confusion before she looked back up at Dean. "It's a Celtic magic symbol. At least it was in my favorite video game," she quickly added. "Does that help? Can I go now?"
Sam shook his head. "It's a start, but no. Um, listen. What can you tell us about Ed and Lance?"
Charlie shrugged her slim shoulders, clearly not sure what she could say that would be of any use. "Good guys. Two of the best members of the Queen's ever-shrinking army," she added with a note of scorn.
"Ever-shrinking?"
Charlie let out a long breath, and her shoulders fell in disappointment. "My kingdom has had a lot of bad luck lately, probably cause of me, but …" She picked up the photograph once again and studied it. "Maybe it's tied to this." She set it back down as she looked up at Dean. "A month ago, one of my guards had both her ankles broken before battle. Before that, I had three people have hospital-worthy accidents while at home. You think there's any connection there?"
"Did they have any enemies in common?" Sam asked.
"In real life? No. Everyone gets along famously. In the game, though … they have tons of enemies." Charlie rose to her feet and walked over to a rectangular table on the other side of the tent. A paper map was spread across it, with plastic figures aligned into four groups, each a different color. Alex followed the Winchesters as they rose and crossed the room to join her. "Red represents the followers of the Moon — my peeps," she explained pointing to one of the four groups of figures. "Green's for Elves, blue for Warriors of Yesteryear, and black's for the Shadow Orc — total d-bags. This weekend is the Battle of the Kingdoms to see who wears the Forever Crown. This weekend, each faction is definitely an enemy of me and mine."
Dean leaned past Alex to study the array of plastic men. "You know," he began quietly. "If you, uh, move your archers back and your broadswordsmen to the west …"
"Huh. Fight the warriors." Charlie nodded at Dean's words, his actions making sense to her even though they were lost on both Alex and Sam. "Hey, good call. What about the southern wall?"
"Guys." Sam spoke up to snap the two out of their planning.
"Yeah?" Dean looked up, and when Sam moved his arms out, he nodded and cleared his throat. "Uh, right. Sorry."
"So, maybe, uh …" Sam hesitated as he watched his brother pick up one of the plastic trebuchet and move it across the map. "Maybe someone from one of the other kingdoms got ahold of real magic and started using it to weaken your army."
Charlie looked over at Dean, and he nodded to her, winking discreetly as he drew his hand away from the battle map, and Alex shook her head. "Maybe," she agreed, turning to Sam, "but why go after those people? Why not go right after the Queen herself? I mean, she's clearly the one behind these guys' defense."
"And why the escalation?" Charlie was quick to add. "Why are they killing people now?"
Dean nodded, finding both of the women's questions to be good ones. "Alright, we'll canvass the kingdoms. You should get out of here," he told Charlie. "We don't want you to get hurt. Alex can take you someplace far away from here."
"Whoa, wait." Sam stepped forward to intercede. "Charlie knows Moondor a lot better than we do. We need her."
"Sam, I think we can take care of a bunch of accountants with foam swords," Dean scoffed, and Alex couldn't help but let out a huff of agreement. Her wings flicked, amused by Dean's description of the role-players.
Sam, however, still wasn't backing down. "We need all the help we can get, Dean. People are dying."
Dean's voice rose, green eyes flashing in frustration at his brother's lack of sense. "My point, which is usually yours, is that she should get somewhere safe and get back to a normal life."
"Hey, I am right here, and I want to leave-" Charlie put in, trying to break the tension bubbling between the two brothers.
Dean motioned towards the woman. "Thank you."
But Charlie wasn't finished. "But the queen …" She let out a deep sigh. "She has to stay. I mean, Sam is right. People are dying. That can't happen on my watch. And you know what? I'm tired of running. I like my life here. I'm gonna stay and fight for it."
Dean's lips twisted downwards in disagreement, but before Sam could agree or commend the woman for her choice, his phone rang. He quickly answered it, pressing the receiver close to his ear as he listened carefully. "Mm-hmm. Yeah. Okay. Thanks." He hung up and shoved the phone back into his pocket. "So, the toxicology report came back on Lance. Nothing. But the medical examiner said his body showed clear signs that he was killed by belladonna."
"The porn-star?" Dean and Charlie spoke in unison, their voices perfectly matched in pitch as they relayed their confusion to Sam's news.
There was a long pause, and Alex looked up to see that all eyes were on her. "Hey," she began, hands going up to defend her innocence, unsure why everyone was so focused on her. "I don't swing that way. I thought you were talking about the poison."
"I was." Sam's lips were pursed into a tight line as Dean and Charlie let out an 'oh,' of understanding, and the younger hunter let out a sharp breath. "But they couldn't find a trace of it in his system."
"Just like they couldn't find ropes in Ed's apartment," Dean added helpfully.
Sam nodded. "Charlie," he began, turning to address the short woman, "I'm going to need to borrow your laptop."
"There are no laptops here in Moondor. What?" she added defensively at the confused and disappointed looks on the brother's faces. "There are rules. But there is a tech tent four tents down," she added to Sam.
"Okay. How about you three go canvas, and I'll dig into these accidents and this mark?" When there was no protest, Sam moved past the three of them and left, the heavy canvas tent flap falling into place behind him.
Charlie turned to look up at Dean. "Okay, I'm gonna need a full wiki on where you guys have been. But first, you're gonna have to ditch the suit if you're gonna walk and talk with the Queen." She pointed to Dean. "I think I have something that will fit you here. There's a costume tent just to the left of here," she added to Alex. "There's a lot there to choose from."
"Uh, yeah. Okay." Alex took that as the hint to leave, and she pushed her way out of the tent and into the crisp air. She turned to her left and made her way down through the tents. A sign directed her into a large, dark one, and the angel cocked an eyebrow as she took in the large array of pants, shirts, and weapons. "Okay."
...
It took some doing, but Alex eventually put together something that looked like the apparel of all those around her. She pulled on a dark pair of brown pants and a off-white tunic, and she left the top two buttons unopened as she pulled on a darker vest. A belt around her waist housed a well-crafted wooden longsword, and lastly she pulled out a pair of dark leather boots before drawing her blonde hair up into a tight ponytail.
There was a nice diagram tagged onto one side of the tent's walls, listing the different requirements and pieces of each type of costume, and Alex returned to the pile of parts to pull a pair of leather armguards. She pulled the leather laces tight and then she stepped out of the tent.
Dean and Charlie were already several paces away, and Alex hurried to catch up to them. "Dean!" she called as she slid to a walk beside them. "Nice."
The Winchester was clothed in a short-sleeve brown tunic over a lighter long-sleeve shirt. Chainmail was draped across his neck and right shoulder. Black armguards were wrapped tightly on his wrists, and a leather belt and wooden sword hung from his side. She felt Dean run an approving eye over her own costume, but when they started walking again he turned to Charlie. "You always been in to LARPing?" he asked.
"Nah." Charlie led the way through the tents with a shake of her head. "For role-play, I prefer a tabletop. D&D, Gamma World, Car Wars. That's why Cthulhu invented multi-sided dice, huh?" She grinned at her own joke, but it faltered when neither Alex nor Dean got it. "But a buddy of mine was into LARPing," she added. "Went for him, stayed for the chicks." She smiled when Dean laughed. "It's not just that, though. It's an escape. I mean, here I'm a queen, a hero. Out there in the real world, I'm just hacking code and chugging coffee all day long."
"Your majesty." A woman passed, curtsying slightly to Charlie as the Queen finished her words.
"Now wait a second." Dean circled on Charlie, causing both of them to stop, his voice dropped low, insistent and truthful. "If it weren't for you, we never would have been able to take down Dick Roman. Out there in the real world, you are a hero."
"My queen." Another female role-player mimicked the first, dipping her head low in respect with a coy smile as she passed, and Charlie returned her smile.
"I'm noticing a lot of these maidens are checking you out," Dean added as he watched them walk away. Interest was clear in his gaze, and Alex rolled her eyes, feeling slightly out place as Dean and Charlie both eyed the woman.
"I'll go do a sweep of the area and see what I can feel," she announced, shaking out her wings. "You two … try to get some work done, huh? Preferably case-related." She didn't wait for a response before she slipped off through the tents. She moved out of the camp and along the tree line of the thick forest. If she remembered Charlie's map correctly, that was where the orcs were. The elves were to the right, and the Yesteryear folk just beyond that. The twitching of her wings had Alex making up her mind. Into the woods it was.
She moved into the trees along one of the dirt paths, wings stretching up high above her head as a gust of wind passed through the forest. She flicked her grace out in lazy circles as she searched for any human souls that could be the Shadow Orcs. As she turned the bend she picked up something strange, and the angel immediately changed paths towards it. She saw a flash of white, maroon, and deep brown as she came over a rise. The brown came from a thick cloak as the man spun around and brandished a large sword.
The white and maroon came from wings.
The angel stilled when Alex came into view, and surprise flashed through his eyes, but the next second it was gone, and he dropped into a deep bow. "My lady."
"Um, yeah, Alex is just fine." The young angel flicked her wings, and the other angel rose gracefully to his feet. She approached, unsure of what lay before her. "Uh…" she began slowly, "you — what are you doing here, uh …?"
"Galavant." The angel dipped his head with a flash of straight, white teeth. "And what does it look like I'm doing?"
"It, uh, looks like you're an angel LARPing as a knight. Sorry — is Galavant your real name?" Alex tipped her head perplexingly as she stared up at the tall, handsome figure in front of her.
"Ah. Unfortunately, it is not. I was originally called Sasseel, but Galavant seemed a name much more suited for this, don't you think?" The angel shoved his sword into the soft earth below and ran a hand through his short black hair. "You're enaiish, aren't you?"
Enaiish. A female angel. Alex remembered that word from Lucifer, and she nodded. "Yeah. I'm Castiel's mate, sorta — right now I'm just working with a pair of hunters."
Galavant let out a low, interested hum. "Huh. I know of Castiel. He was the superior of our sister garrison. We were both watchers of the earth — guardian angels, call us what you want. I saw a lot of human history pass from above. The Middle Ages," he added as he pulled his broadsword from the ground, "was one of my favorites to observe, although, granted, perhaps not the best from man's perspective."
"Uh, yeah, basically." Alex let her left hand come to rest on the pommel of her wooden sword as she studied Galavant carefully. "So, uh, let me get this straight," she began, and when the maroon tips flicked in assent for her to continue, she added, "You're an angel. Who is also live action role playing as a medieval knight." She shook her head in complete disbelief. "I mean, I've seen a lot of weird stuff, but this …"
"What?" Galavant quipped. "Haven't you ever seen an angel with a hobby? Plus, my lady," he added with a flourishing wave, "It seems I'm not the only one who's taken a fancy to the game." His gaze fell onto where Alex's hand rested, and his thick eyebrows rose. "Do you have any practice with that?"
In response, Alex drew her sword, left hand resting just below the guard with her right hand holding the grip tightly below it. She raised it defensively as a blow came down from above, and even though her wrists stung a little from the impact, she deflected his attack and countered with a sweep from above. Galavant sidestepped and returned a quick two-handed jab, and Alex barely had enough time to spin out of the way. Her wings stretched out to keep her balance, and she landed in a defensive position, sword poised and feet firmly planted yet ready to move.
Galavant fell into a more relaxed position, wings flicking in appreciation. "Very good," he praised. "Not many people here can wield a sword like you can. Where did you learn?"
"Bobby Singer. An old friend. He taught me a lot of … strange stuff." Alex sheathed her wooden sword, and she tipped her head in confusion when something flashed in the angel's blue eyes. "What?"
The angel fell into a low bow, wings stretching out so the primaries brushed the ground. "I thought I recognized you," he rumbled. "The humans who stood up to Lucifer. You look very different now." He rose back to his feet as he slid his own weapon into his belt. "You were with Bobby Singer and the Winchesters. We watched your progress, you know. But you dropped off the radar before Lucifer and Michael met. We all thought you had died."
"Yeah, not quite." Alex flapped her wings to emphasis her unspoken words. "Got an upgrade. Uh, but why are you here? Like … on Earth."
Bright green eyes crinkled at the corners as the angel grinned, but it quickly fell away. "I left heaven when the civil war began. Me and a few others faked our deaths and bailed on all that chaos. Earth isn't great, but it's a hell of a lot better than what's going on up there. And considering you're down here as well," he added, "I figure you'd be able to relate."
Alex hesitated, unsure what to say, so she eventually just nodded. "I'm not here for the same reason you are, but heaven's still chaos. Naomi has control, and she's … well, she's a total bitch." Before the angel in front of her could comment, she added, "Wait, so a few of you decided to bail together? So you know Balthazar?"
Familiarity lit up Galavant's eyes. "He's the one who planned it all," he agreed. "I haven't see him in years, though. How is he?"
"I don't know. I haven't seen him recently either. He ended up in haven's prison, and I have no way up to even see him." Alex's wings drooped slightly as she thought about the older angel. "I knew him well, though. I spent a lot of time with him while Cas fought in the war. But I'm back with the Winchesters now."
"Ah yes." Faint recognition sparked deep within the angel's eyes at the mention of the brothers. "So what exactly brings you to Michigan?"
"There's something weird going on in this town, and we think we've traced it back to, uh, Moondor. You haven't heard? Two people were killed in the past two days, and it sounds like there's been some other injuries leading up to it. They were, uh, the Queen's men."
"Hm. That'd be why." Galavant curled his wings forward slightly as he stepped forward. "I belong to the Kingdom of Yesteryear. I don't associate much with the Followers of the Moon. I will, however," he announced with a strong and dramatic tone, "help you on your quest. I know these woods like the back of my hands. If there's anything strange there, I'll find it."
"Uh, sure thing." Alex trailed off as she heard footsteps approaching, and over the hill appeared two figures. One was clearly recognizable as Dean Winchester; the other LARPer Alex didn't know. She saw Dean straighten up as he recognized her, and he headed down the hill to stand in front of the two angels. "Hey, Dean."
The Winchester mostly ignored her question. "Have you seen Charlie?"
"Who?" Galavant inquired.
"Who the fuck are you?" Dean retorted with a disdainful downward twitch of his lips, and green eyes flashed cautiously as he studied the man beside Alex.
"Galavant." Alex tipped her head towards him, and his wings fluttered when her wingtips brushed against his. "One of Cas' old friends. Uh, what about Charlie?" she asked before that flash of surprise in Dean's eyes could form words. "I haven't seen her — she's the Queen of the Moon people," she added to Galavant before turning back to Dean. "She was with you, remember?" She glanced over at the short man beside Dean and added, "And who's he?"
"I am Boltar the Furious." The scrawny brunette made a dramatic flourish with his arm even though he eyed Galavant with a look of the upmost distrust. "Warrior of Yesteryear; have you seen any signs of the Shadow Orcs? Or have you been distracted with galavanting with this young maiden?"
"We've been discussing current events," Galavant retorted good-naturedly, his lips curved upwards in a light-hearted grin at the man's choice of words. "I have no quarrel with the orcs, nor any fidelity towards your queen. However," he added, turning to Alex, "if what you say is true, then I offer my services towards your cause."
"Thank you." Alex looked over to Dean. "Where's the queen?" she asked. "Where did you last see her?"
"On the far side of the woods. I sent her back to Sam while Bolty and I kept an eye out for the shadow orcs." Dean ignored Boltar's indignant, wordless noise, not fond of the hunter's nickname. "Speaking of, you didn't find any, right?"
"No. Not a sound. I kind of got distracted." Alex flicked her grace out to search the immediate vicinity, but there was no one else within the one hundred yard radius. "Nope," she confirmed. "Maybe Sam's had some luck though." She stepped back as Dean walked by and fell into line beside him, motioning with her wing that Galavant was welcome to follow if he so chose.
He did, and the four of them made their way back out of the forest and down into the camp of the Followers of the Moon. "Well, that was a bust," Dean finally said once they were back among the tents. "How much you want to bet the Shadow Orcs weren't even out there?"
Alex huffed in amusement, but Boltar looked more than displeased. "For a handmaiden, you certainly ask many questions," he scoffed. "Yes, I am positive they were out there. They're just very good at hiding themselves. But," he added as they stopped, and he put a finger on Dean's chest, "a plan has sprung to mind that will draw the Shadow King to us. We shall take the Shadow Orc held in stock, offer him up as a prisoner exchange."
"Draw him out and beat him down." Dean nodded in appreciation of the plan. "I like your style, Boltar."
"I shall retrieve the prisoner. You tend to the queen's laundry and chamber pots and then meet back here." Boltar walked away, leaving Dean alone with the two angels. The Winchester made a disgusted and displeasing face after him before he turned to Alex.
She beat him to any words. "Handmaiden, huh? Nice."
"Shut it." Dean looked over at Galavant, taking a moment to take in the angel's medieval appearance. "So you're an angel, too, huh? The hell you doing here?"
Before Galavant could answer, Sam walked up to them, a piece of paper held tightly in his hands. "Hey," he greeted Dean and Alex. "Nice outfits."
"You love it," Dean quipped as he turned to his brother.
Sam rolled his eyes and held up the paper, upon which was the tattoo of the celtic tree in the right-hand corner. "Right. Well, uh, while you guys were playing dress-up, I found out a few things. First of all, Ed and Lance weren't the first victims. All those people Charlie said got sick? They had the same tattoo, same medieval-style injuries. This mark —"
"Belongs to the Shadow Orcs," Dean finished with a grin, and Alex curled her wings forward in interest at the news.
"Yeah, and they're using it for fairy magic," Sam finished. He handed the paper to his brother, and Alex leaned up over Dean's shoulder to look at the article for herself.
"Tree of Pain," Dean read with a terse nod before he handed it back to Sam. "Awesome. Oh, uh, this is … I don't remember his name, but he's an angel, right, Pip?"
"Galavant." The angel stepped forward towards Sam with an extended hand, amiability lighting up his green eyes. His tongue rolled over his words with a barely noticeable British accent as he added, "One of the finest of the Warriors of Yesteryear at your service." He gave a deep and flourishing bow as his free hand came to rest on the pommel of his sword.
"He's an angel," Alex confirmed. "A friend of Balthazar's, actually. He's here hiding from the civil war as well."
"He's a LARPer," Dean added with raised eyebrows towards his brother, and it was immediately clear exactly how he felt about it. Alex glanced over at Galavant, but the angel didn't seem in the least bit perturbed by Dean's disapproval.
"I find the whole situation quite appealing," he began with a casual flick of his wings. "What better way to combine the adventure and chivalry of the Middle Ages with the technological ease of the twenty-first century?" He cleared his throat and motioned towards the paper Sam held, not looking for either brother to respond. "The Tree of Pain is a Celtic symbol dating back to the first century AD, and is used by faeries and those who harness their magic. It's quite powerful indeed. I was a watcher," he explained to the brothers when they exchanged looks. "I have seen much of earth's history."
"Okay, so then what do we do?" Dean asked. "Find the guy who's casting the spell and take them out? Simple as that, right? No more whammy, no more marks. No more marks, no more dead bodies." When there was no protest he nodded. "Okay, then. Perfect. Our, uh, pal Boltar the Chatty is getting the, uh, Shadow Orc prisoner. We're going to do a little prisoner exchange, try and draw the king out of hiding. It was my idea," he added with a grin. Sam didn't respond, so Dean shrugged and looked past him. "So where's Charlie?"
Sam's face darkened in confusion. "She was with you."
"No, I sent her to you." Dean frowned and pushed past Sam. "Charlie?" he called, voice rising in concern. "Charlie!" He pushed his way through the flaps of the queen's tent. "Your highness?" There was no response, and Dean stepped back outside and pointed towards Sam. "You know what, she's got my phone. Try it."
Sam dug his cell out of his pocket and dialed Dean's number. Alex heard it ring, then ring again, but there was no answer. Sam tried again, and Alex let her grace sneak out through the camp, searching for the familiar human soul. "Nothing," she announced as she drew her grace back in. It brushed up against Galavant's on accident; the two angels' grace recoiled at the contact, and Alex cleared her throat. "She's, uh, she's not in the camp."
"She's not answering the phone." Sam shoved the device back into his pocket. "Now what?"
"Well — she was last seen in the forest, right?" Dean hurried to stand back in front of the two angels. "So the two of you should go search it, okay? You've got to be able to find something between the both of you."
"We can try." Alex shrug as she looked up into the sky. The sun was stretching towards the horizon, and the clouds were fading into a dark grey. "You don't have to help," she added to the angel beside her. "If you want to … I don't know — go back to whatever it was you were doing — you can."
To her surprise, the angel shook his head. "I offered you my services, and you shall have them. I'll search the northern end of the woods. You start on the south." His white and maroon wings unfolded, and he took off into the sky.
Alex followed, moving up through the chilly air as she circled around to the forest. She skimmed across the treetops, wings brushing through the leaves with each downstroke. Her grace poured out below her, searching down to the ground, but she couldn't find Charlie's soul. However, as she passed over the eastern section she felt something strange, and the angel pulled her wings in tightly as she plummeted towards the ground. What was that? She pulsed her grace out, but it was gone. Where did it go?
She continued on foot, grace stretching out ahead of her as she sought out whatever strange field of energy she had first felt, but it seemed to be hidden from her for some odd reason. Fairy magic, perhaps, she reasoned. It was quite powerful, and strong enough to evade angelic detection.
She moved silently through the forest, wings twitching as the shadows grew longer and longer with each passing minute. She heard voices up ahead, and then the unmistakeable discharge of a gun, and a strong push of her wings carried her through the trees and immediately in front of Dean. "What the hell?" she snapped.
"Whoa whoa whoa!" The people behind her flinched away from the gunshot, eyes screwed up. "Hold, hold, geez!" They didn't seem to notice Alex's sudden appearance, but Dean's eyes flashed in momentary surprise when she landed right in front of him.
"They need to focus," he snapped down at Alex as an explanation, and he pushed past her to point his gun at the chest of the man behind her. "Now start talking! Where's the queen?"
"I don't know!" the man cried, voice trembling on the verge of tears, and Alex reached up to lower Dean's arm.
"What are you doing? He's not our guy, Dean. Look at him; he's gonna piss his pants." She felt Dean's arm relax, and she pushed it further towards the ground. "Put the gun away. He doesn't know anything."
"His family crest says otherwise," Dean growled, but he thankfully lowered the gun.
"T-This?" The terrified man looked down at his chest, and for the first time Alex noticed the large white celtic tree on his shirt, standing in stark contrast to the rest of his black attire. "Uh, I-I got sick last month after this thing just … appeared on my - my arm." He pushed the gauntlet off of his forearm and yanked up his sleeve so they could see the small inked tattoo in the light of Boltar's flashlight. "I-I thought it looked really cool, so I turned it into my family crest. I mean, after my doctor said it wasn't malignant."
"See?" Alex stepped away from Dean. "He's not our guy. He's just … another victim."
"My name is Max Hilby," the Shadow Orc king continued. "I'm an attorney. I have no idea where the queen is, but if you let me go right now, I won't press charges. I promise." He pulled off his fake pointed ears and held them out to Dean along with the golden gauntlet. "Here. Uh, take them. Please."
"Go." Dean rubbed his temple. "Go!" he repeated when no one moved. "Go!" The LARPers turned tail and ran away, leaving the hunters standing alone with Boltar and a man Alex noticed for the first time. Another Shadow Orc, judging by the black clothes and the plastic ears; this was was cowering behind Sam. Dean turned back to them, frowning when he saw the disapproval on his brother's face. "What?" he snapped. "What?"
Sam shook his head, but the Shadow Orc took out his fake teeth and looked up at Dean with wide eyes. "Is … is the queen really in danger?" Dean nodded, and he took a deep breath. "Okay. We got — there was something odd down by the creek," he began, the only sign of his fear escaping as a slight tremor in his voice. "It's this weird tent; it's not one of ours. It's kind of creepy."
"There's something strange there," Alex agreed. "I felt it, but I couldn't pinpoint it. I looked for five minutes too, but I didn't see anything."
Sam looked down at the orc. "Why are you being so helpful all of a sudden?" he asked, skepticism heavy on his voice.
The orc looked down at the ground bashfully. "Look, I harbor a major crush on the queen," he admitted, his feet scuffling in the dirt in a small distraction from what he had just admitted. "Maybe you could put in a good word for me when you find her."
Dean let out a scoffing noise. "I don't think you're her type," he informed the man before he turned around and stalked out into the dark.
Alex hurried after him, wings flicking in confusion and concern, and she heard the man yell after them, hurt on his voice, "What? You mean she's not into orcs?"
"You seem a little bit pissy," she commented as she fell into step beside Dean. "More so than usual, I mean. Are you feeling okay?"
"You really gotta ask?" Dean fished a small flashlight out of his jacket pocket and turned it towards the darkened woods. "Charlie could be dead, dammit. If she had just gotten out of here when I said she should, she wouldn't be missing. Now where the hell is that creek?"
"This way." Alex lead the way off towards the left. "I can hear it through the trees." She glanced behind her to see Sam and Boltar close behind, boots crunching through the dirt and pine needles.
"Why don't you take off, Bolty?" Dean asked when they had finally caught up. "We got it from here."
"And leave a handmaiden and a time traveller to rescue the queen?" The knight scoffed loudly as he shook his head in disbelief. "I think not, kind lady."
Sam and Dean exchanged looks over Alex's head, and the younger Winchester cleared his throat. "Look, this isn't a game, Boltar," he insisted. "The queen, our friend, is in real danger. You could get hurt."
"I will not leave my queen in peril." Boltar remained firm on his stance, and before either could protest, he pointed off through the trees. "Look there," he announced with a hint of pride at spotting the strange encampment first. Alex followed his gaze across the small creek to where a tent stood, the exterior lit by a few torches outside. Light could be seen from beneath the tent canvas as well, and the young angel pushed out her grace to feel it. Definitely something strange.
"That's it," a voice from beside her announced, and Alex turned to see Galavant leaning against the trunk of a nearby tree. "Fairy magic. There's a fairy inside." He pushed himself off of the tree and walked over to Alex. "I see you brought backup. If there's anything else you need —"
Alex gave a small shake of her head. "This isn't your fight," she decided. "If we need anything, I'll let you know. Thanks, man."
"Of course, my lady. Now if you don't mind, I have a lady of my own to return to." Galavant gave a deep bow, and then his wings carried him up and away.
Alex turned to see the look of shock and confusion on Boltar's face, and she couldn't help the smug grin that grew across her own. "Still think this is just a game?" She jumped across the creek, followed closely by Sam and Dean, and she thrust her way into the tent.
She immediately pulled to a complete stop, wings drawn in closely in surprise to see two woman sitting on the very large and very plush bed. They were kissing, both momentarily unaware of their entrance. They only broke apart when Dean cleared his throat, and the second woman — a darker skinned creature with wide brown eyes, stared up at them in surprise. They locked onto Alex's wings, which twitched under the intense stare.
Charlie, on the other hand, seemed more frustrated at their sudden appearance than anything else. "Dudes," she hissed. "If the tent is rockin', don't come a-knockin'."
The second woman's gaze travelled across all of them, and she jumped to her feet before Charlie could finish her sentence. "No It's him!" she gasped in fear, and Alex's wings flared out in alarm, grace spiraling through the tent. It immediately collided with the fairy's own power, and she yanked it back in. "My master!" the fairy cried. "Run!"
Alex glanced over her shoulder to where Boltar stood. The scrawny man pushed back his hood, his eyes darkening in malice. She rolled her eyes in exasperation as the surprise of the sudden turn of events quickly passed. "You? Are you shitting me?"
The Winchesters reacted quickly, guns drawn and pointed at the LARPer, but he barely flinched, his demeanor sliding into one of dark confidence. "No guns in Moondor, gentleman," he chided. "Gilda, if you please?"
Alex watched the sadness that passed across the fairy's face, but with a wave of her hand, the guns exploded into a shower of feathers. She flared her wings out, a growl thrumming through her chest. Dean looked back at his brother to make sure he was okay before turning back to the role player. "Well, now what, Gerry?"
"My name is Boltar the Furious!" Gerry's voice rose in anger and frustration as he turned on the Winchesters, but he took Dean's words as a prompt to explain his entire scheme. "My plan was, after getting rid of all my competition, to win the battle tomorrow, convincing the queen that I should be her king." He looked over at Charlie in confusion when the redhead scoffed in disgust and shook her head, and his confidence faltered for only a second before it returned as indignation. "But then you three idiots showed up," he snapped at the hunters, "and I was forced to improvise. Rescue the —"
"Oh, God. Do we really have to listen to all of this?" Alex stepped forward with a disinterested twitch of her dark wings. "It's pathetic, really. You killed two men over a gay queen in a fake game? Jesus, man, you have problems. It's just a game."
"There is no game!" Gerry shouted. "There is only Moondor! I came here to be different, to get away from my crappy life, to be a hero, and guess what."
"What?" Dean quipped. "You were a loser in the real world, and you're a loser here? Shocker." He grinned when Alex laughed, but his humor only made the roleplayer more angry.
"Would a loser track down a book of spells and compel a fairy to do his bidding?" he yelled, face turning red.
He took a step towards Dean, and Alex slipped forward, eyes narrowed in warning. "Depends," she heard Sam say from behind them. "How'd you get the book?"
Gerry faltered. "…eBay."
"Of course," Alex scoffed. "What a shock. Hand over the spell book, Gerry. Let's just get this over with before I have to kill you."
Gerry laughed, and he drew his longsword. "You? Kill me? Unlikely. Gilda?" He looked over at the fairy, and with a reluctant wave of her hand, his wooden sword melted into one of burnished steel. "Gilda," he added, "the big one."
Alex spun around when she heard the clanking of metal and the strangled cry of Sam, and her eyebrows rose when she saw that the hunter was being strangled from behind by a full suit of empty armor. She heard Charlie cry out as she charged at Gerry, but he easily threw her back onto the bed. "Dean." Alex slid in front of the hunter, positioning herself between him and the sharp sword. Her own angel blade slipped into her arms, and she flared out her wings in an attempt to look much, much taller. "If you give me the book I won't kill you," she warned. "I'll give you five seconds."
Gerry's response was one simple command. "Gilda. Kill her.."
Alex thrust her grace out with a sweeping hand motion, twirling and twisting it alongside Lucifer's as it collided with Gilda's own energy, and the force sent the fairy backwards with a surprised cry. Alex tipped her head, staring directly at Gerry as he turned back to her in fear. "You know, you're really pissing me off," she warned as Lucifer's grace thrummed through her vessel, and she let her eyes glow a violent orange. "Give me the book right now or I swear to God I will kill you where to stand."
Leather binding hit the ground as Alex raised her angel blade, and a hand gripping her wrist was the only thing that stopped her from delivering the fatal wound. "Stop." Dean's word sounded in her ear, and Alex felt some of the anger recede deep inside of her at the sound of his voice. "He's done."
Alex stared at the man, eyes narrowed at the fearfulness dancing across his features, and she let her arm fall, weapon sliding back into her sleeve. Dean released her arm, and Alex, now free, lashed out. Her fist connected with Gerry's nose; a satisfying crack echoing through the small tent, and he collapsed onto the bear-skin rug, unconscious.
The fireplace behind the roleplayer roared and crackled as Sam tossed the ancient spell book into the fire, and Alex turned to see Charlie stand in front of Gilda the fairy. "Are you okay?" the woman asked in a soft and tender voice.
"I'm free of the spell," Gilda murmured, her own reply just as quiet. She looked over at the three hunters, voice solemn with gratitude. "You saved me. The Hollow Forest is forever in your debt." The fairy let out a slow, thoughtful breath as she turned back to look into the queen's eyes. "I must return to those green hills now," she told Charlie before her gaze fell upon the unconscious Gerry. "I must take my former master with me. He must face the fairy tribunal for his sins."
"Wait." Charlie reached up to stop her, and the two's lips met in a chaste kiss before the fairy's energy swirled throughout the tent, and Gilda and Gerry faded away into nothingness.
Alex shook her head as the unconscious LARPer disappeared. "Should have just let me kill him," she muttered to Dean. "Dude got off way too easy if you ask me." She ran a hand through her hair as she looked around the tent.
Alex. Castiel's prayer had the young angel jumping in surprise, and she looked up. I'm in Sacramento, Ohio. Please come.
"Got to go." Alex hurried towards the tent door, pausing at the Winchester's exclamations of surprise. "Castiel," she explained, hesitating only long enough to add, "He says he needs me to come to him, so that's what I'm doing." She looked down at her apparel with an immediate frown. "My clothes are still in the costume tent, right? Dammit."
...
Alex landed at the foot of the old, wooden pier, wings folding in tight as she looked around. Moonlight glittered off of the lake, waves slowly lapping at the rocky shoreline, and against the moonlit air stood the outline of a dark, solemn figure. He was leaning against the railing, staring mindlessly down into the waves, and he only stirred when Alex quietly approached. "You came."
"Of course I came." Alex leaned on the railing next to him and looked up into the seraph's face. "You called, I answered. What's up?" She curled one wing to rest against his back. "Cas?"
"I'm sorry. I needed to make sure you were okay." Castiel turned to face her, and for the first time Alex was able to see the concern sparkling in his eyes. "I was worried Naomi would hurt you."
The young angel stepped into his arms and pressed her grace up against his. "Naomi won't bother me," she promised darkly. "She's afraid of Lucifer and knows I'm the only thing between him and heaven." She wrapped her arms around his neck, taking the moment to enjoy the closeness between the two of them, the way the air grew warm and heavy when his wings curled around her. "I know you don't like him, but at least he's being helpful right now. I'm safe."
She pressed her lips against Castiel's, soft and chaste, and she felt him relax against her, even if it was ever so slight. "I'm glad you're alright," he murmured as he pulled away, and Alex pressed her forehead into his. "I … I don't know what to do. I can't get Naomi out of my head."
"I was scared she had hurt you." Alex looked up into his blue eyes. "You just left me without saying another word."
Something she must have said must have upset him, because Castiel looked away. "I … I haven't forgotten the promise I made," he began, "but this isn't something you should be involved in, Alex. I need you to be safe —"
"You need to me to stay with the Winchesters while you go away," Alex finished in a flat voice, neither surprised nor delighted at Castiel's implications. "Cas, you promised!"
"I know what I promised." A warm hand gripped hers tightly, and Alex clenched her other fist as Castiel's wings curled around them. "Alex, Naomi is the only thing standing between you and I, and the sooner I am freed from her, the sooner you and I can be together." The seraph's voice dropped into a low murmur. "I don't know what she told you, but she threatened me with your life. I don't want you involved if it will kill you. Your life … it's the most important thing. You said the same thing about Ashiel," he pressed. "You said that his safety was more important than your love. If keeping you safe you means I have to let you go for the time being, then …" The seraph hesitated, the indecision in his eyes making it clear that he didn't feel as convinced as he sounded. "Then that's something I have to do."
Alex let her shoulders fall, and she let out a sigh. "Fine," she relented. "Whatever. I guess, what's another week or two, huh? It's not like you've been missing an entire year and I've missed you. But fine." She tore herself out of Castiel's grasp, eyes flashing as he opened his mouth to apologize. "Stop it. I get it. Just — you know what, if one of these times you come back and I'm not there for you, it's not my fault. You hear me? It's not my fault."
"Alex—" Alex pushed herself up into the sky, leaving Castiel standing on the pier all alone. She hovered high in the air for a second, but the seraph didn't follow, and with a confused and reluctant shake of her head, Alex crossed the country and returned to the Winchesters' motel room. She needed a nap.
Lucifer was there the minute Alex closed her eyes, blue eyes studying her from across the room. "You're back," he noted, the rumble in his voice soft without any trace of scorn. "What did Castiel do this time?"
Alex didn't answer, but she crossed the room and stepped into the archangel's arms, wings folding as he pulled her close in a comforting embrace. "Thank you," she murmured, eyes closing as she buried her head into his chest.
"For what?"
"For being here."
...
Alright, here's a quick update for all who are curious. My beta readers have been awol for the past month or so, so I'm looking for one or two people who'd be willing beta for me. All it involves is reading through the chapters once, maybe twice if you're feeling ambitious, and looking for grammar, weird phrasing, if it needs more/better descriptions, etc. I've only had time to post once a week because beta-ing by myself is a lot of work; I have to read it aloud a few times to slow myself down catch some of the errors.
If you're interested, PM me. Never done it before? That's fine. All you need is a pair of fresh eyes. It'll probably be on a first come, first serve basis.
Thanks, and, like always, hope you enjoyed the chapter!
~Elaine