BOOM there you go, answers given.

now about that X-Men thing I'm working on... basically it's just another one of my typical OC-inserts, but it takes place during the timeline of First Class. I'm planning that it will go all the way to Apocalypse before i bring it to a close. (How, I still have no idea.)

but if any of you guys are interested, feel free to review or PM me about it, so i have something to look forward to. ^^

on with THIS story!


His voice broke when Dean said, "Cas, clean him up."

The angel stepped up from beside Aubrey, but she didn't stay to watch. She turned around and immediately went for the door. "So, where to next—?"

A hand stopped her from pulling it open; Dean's, to be exact. He glared at her, his jaw set and his hand placed firmly against the wood of the door, keeping her from escaping.

He growled. "We're not finished yet."

Aubrey took a slow step back, wringing her wrists because she knew that they were going to interrogate her next. Why had she been so stupid as to think they would forget about her? Making for the door might have only made her situation worse.

She held her hands up. "Dean—"

"What are you?" he demanded in a loud voice. Aubrey was only half aware of the two sets of eyes watching from behind her as she backed up.

She sighed. "You're not doing this again."

"I've been lied to by enough people, Aubrey," Dean yelled, but his voice dropped an octave when he said to her, "I won't be lied to by you, of all people."

An ache settled within the confines of her heart when he said that, and she smiled sadly. "You're right. I shouldn't have lied."

"What are you?" he repeated, calmer this time.

Aubrey rolled her shoulders. "You're sure?" She wasn't sure why she'd asked that; maybe she was talking to herself.

Dean scowled in confusion. "Yes, I'm sure."

She took a deep breath, running over the words in her head another three times before finally saying, "I'm a Phoenix, Dean."

"Don't be stupid. Those aren't real."

The corners of her lips twitched up in a smile at his bluntness, but she continued, and she told herself not to stop until the full explanation was done. "My lineage was one of the first of God's creations in all of history, only a few ways after He created angels." Her eyes flickered to Castiel, but his back was turned to her, and she gulped, thinking that he was purposefully doing so. Even Sam was listening in.

"You know that great big fiery bird people talk about in myths right?"

Dean nodded his head slowly.

"That's what I am, but obviously I'm not a bird. And when Phoenixes die," Aubrey continued, "their souls are reborn into the world again via another person. So, in some ways, I'm about a billion years old." She watched as Dean shifted from foot to foot after hearing this, smiling softly. "My mom always used to tell me that I was something special. That was before she died."

Sam frowned. "You never told us who killed her."

"It was Gabriel," she answered immediately, taking in the baffled expressions on the boys' faces before continuing. "Long story short, he was a friend of my mother's. I knew him, remembered his face when we were hunting him ages ago, and wanted revenge. That was when he told me that he stole my Power—capital P—when he had killed my mother when I was a child. Apparently, heaven's look on Phoenixes has changed over the past couple of millennia, and almost all of them think of me as a threat, that my kind is going to destroy the world or something."

"Almost all of them?" Dean cut in, raising an eyebrow.

Aubrey glanced at the angel—who was still looking away—in reply, and that seemed to be enough for Dean. She continued, "When me and Cas saved you from him, from Gabriel, he handed me back my Power."

"The vial?"

"Yes." She nodded her head. "But I didn't take it back until several months ago, while I was driving back from that Cupid case we worked on."

Dean scowled. "If heaven wants you dead, why'd you give them a good reason?"

In all honesty, Aubrey didn't want to remember the events that happened after the crash, the pain. But she had to, for the sake of Dean's sanity, which she appreciated very much. She pursed her lips and went for it: "I got into a car crash. Of course, I went to a hospital and the doctors dosed me up with drugs. There was a lot of pain, but long story short, they didn't think I was going to make it."

The boys stared at her with wide, unbelieving eyes, and she could have laughed at their expressions if it wasn't for the distant memories. "Phoenixes have super healing," she explained, shedding one half of her jacket off to show them the gash she'd obtained a month ago with the Lamia. "This healed up only after a few hours. So did my lungs, stomach, and ribs right after I took back my Power."

Sam stepped up to stand beside his brother, who shifted uncomfortably. "You didn't want to die," he said.

Aubrey bobbed her head once. "I didn't want to die."

The boys looked convinced, which Aubrey was thankful for. They trusted her enough to tell the truth, which was more than anyone had done for her.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Dean asked.

"I thought you'd think I was selfish or something." She shrugged, looking to the angel in the room. "God knows someone already does."

Some part of her wanted him to acknowledge what she'd just said, but he showed no signs of doing so. Aubrey sighed and turned her head back to Sam and Dean. "And about that 'pure soul' crap Balthazar was going on about? I'm just assuming that it was has something to do with the, you know…" She paused, trying to think of the right words. "… The great big fiery bird inside of me"—it was as good an explanation as any—"But other than that I'm pretty sure I'm as unholy as the grave."

For some reason, that made Castiel turn around. His face was cold, but Aubrey could see the emotions raging behind his eyes. "Balthazar did not mean that you have a pure soul. He meant something very far from that, actually."

Aubrey feigned relief. "Joy," she muttered. "What'd he mean then?"

"He meant that you have the Gifts of the Holy Spirit."

"I believe in God and all," Aubrey replied, biting her lip and barely holding back a bout of laughter. "But I'm not actually the kind of person who 'fears' him. In fact, I'd kick his ass right now if I could."

If the angel was angered by this, he didn't show it. He merely took a single step forward. "Wisdom, understanding, counsel, knowledge, fortitude, piety, and Fear of the Lord; these are the gifts of the Holy Spirit."

"Wisdom and piety, eh? I got none of those." Aubrey raised an eyebrow. "I'm pretty sure the Holy Spirit isn't real either."

That was when something flashed across his face, something that looked too close to anger; but other than that, there was betrayal. And something told Aubrey that it wasn't because she called the Holy Spirit a myth.

Castiel took a step towards her, closing the distance between them while folding his sleeve up to his elbow.

Aubrey took a step back. "Cas?" she said carefully. "What are you doing?"

"Making sure." In a moment, he was in front of her. A small gust of wind pushed her hair back, and Aubrey barely had time to register that she had seen a glimpse of two black wings sprouting from his back—they might have been real, they might have been not—before the angel pushed his hand into her chest.

The pain was surreal. Imagine a large hand-shaped trademark being branded onto one's chest. Now, imagine the iron going right through the skin. Now, imagine feeling it three times over at the same time. That was how excruciating it was.

Castiel hadn't given her a belt to bite down on like he did with Sam. It was a miracle Aubrey hadn't started yelling her lungs out. She forced her throat to close so that only tiny whimpers escaped her mouth. Her knees buckled, but she kept herself up by gripping the closest thing in front of her, and that was the angel's arm. She clawed at it, trying to push it away but the pain kept her from using her full strength. The heat had increased another threefold and had travelled up to her neck. It was still worst at her heart.

When Castiel finally pulled his hand out, Aubrey crumpled to her knees, gasping for air. As the seconds passed, her lungs cooled and the heat in her chest subsided; but she could still feel her heart pounding away. The angel's feet were still planted in front of her, and as she slowly stood up, she glared up at him, feeling nothing else but her own fury. "You son of a bitch…"

She punched him, then, forcing out all her anger to that one hit. His head snapped to the side, and fourteen months ago, Aubrey's hand would have been broken, but now there was only a dull throbbing in her knuckles. Castiel brought his hand up to his jaw, his eyebrows creased together.

Behind them, Dean stepped forward. "That actually hurt?" he asked.

Castiel nodded his head and dropped his hand. "Phoenixes are equal with angels in terms of strength."

"You got that right," Aubrey snapped. She was barely able to rein her anger in, but when she did, she forced herself to look away from the angel, instead keeping her eyes trained on the two brothers. "Are we done here? Because as I recall, we still have to get Sam's soul back."

Dean stared at her carefully. "If we're supposed to figure that out, we need to find who yanked him out." He looked to Sam. "You say you don't know?"

Sam shook his head. "No idea."

"Then we start a list," Dean said. "If it's so hard to spring someone out of the box, then who's got that kind of muscle?" And while he looked to Cas, Aubrey didn't. She kept her eyes straight, even when his voice resounded in her ears.

"I don't know," the angel said. "You have no memory of your resurrection?"

"I woke up in a field," Sam replied. "That's all I got."

"No clues?" Castiel prompted. "None?"

Aubrey turned her head, making sure that she didn't meet the angel's gaze, and stared expectantly at Sam. He frowned, before shrugging. "I've got one."

It was lucky—but not effective—that Aubrey hadn't been the only one who was not looking forward to see the Campbell's again, though she felt more so than Dean, who only agreed to go to the base to talk to Samuel. Both he and Sam were sure that the old man could give them some important clues about where Sam's soul could be. Although, Aubrey wasn't sure if she felt awkward because of the fact that she barely knew any of the people in the base, or because of Christian.

She'd found out a few weeks ago from Gwen Campbell that a particular cousin of Sam and Dean's had a crush on her. And it wasn't that she wasn't flattered or anything. Aubrey just knew that Christian was a prick, and she knew absolutely nothing else about him except that Dean hated his guts. There was something off about him too. Like how she'd felt something off about Sam, how she could feel the emptiness surrounding him, and how she could sense the auras around every person; Aubrey could feel something dark about Christian. She couldn't really see it as much as she could feel it, because truthfully the guy seemed cool enough (but Dean still hated his guts).

That was exactly the reason why sitting on a bench with him while the Winchesters and Castiel interrogated Samuel inside his office was not cool.

The whole thing was awkward, and while Aubrey desperately tried to focus on the bottle of beer in her hands, she could feel his gaze boring into the side of her head. He was staring, and even though she wasn't looking, Aubrey already knew that the corners of his lips were pulled up in a lustful smile.

"Has it been helping at all?" he suddenly asked. Aubrey turned her head and raised an eyebrow. He smiled, nodding at the knife holster by her side. "My gift."

"Yeah." She forced herself to smile back, patting the machete. "Yeah, it's been a ton of help, got us out of a lot of tough spots and whatnot."

"That's good," Christian said, bobbing his head. From the corner of her eye, she could see that he was still staring at her.

She sighed, letting her eyes flutter closed in exasperation before opening them again as she turned her head. "What?"

"What, what?" He grinned.

Aubrey steeled her gaze, pushing away the urge to roll her eyes. "Why are you staring at me?"

Christian stared at her for another five seconds before grinning again. "Because you're really pretty."

This time, Aubrey laughed. She didn't know why. Hearing someone say it to her directly just seemed so absurd and stupid that she couldn't help it. Her giggles resonated all throughout the room, making people throw odd glances at the two of them sitting on the bench. Eventually, she sobered up, but her shoulders continued shaking in her mirth. "I'm 'really pretty'," she repeated, smiling from ear to ear with tears in her eyes.

Christian bobbed his head, but looked confused. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing. It's just…" Aubrey trailed off, falling into another fit of giggles. "It sounds so silly," she was able to say in-between chortles. She took a deep breath in an effort to calm herself.

That was when they heard a man's screams echo all across the room. In a moment, all amusement and hilarity was gone from Aubrey's senses.

The dozens of hunters sitting in tables raised their heads, but she and Christian were the first to stand, Aubrey with her machete and Christian with his shotgun. They immediately made for Samuel's office, for the yelling sounded too familiar that it must have been either him, or Sam. Either way, it wouldn't have been good.

That was why it was to Aubrey's utter surprise and confusion that when they barreled through the door to the old man's office, they found four instead of three men in the room, and one of them was an angel.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Sam exclaimed. Both he and his brother held their hands up carefully towards her and Christian. "It's okay. It's okay."

Beside her, Christian dipped the barrel of his shotgun down. Aubrey dropped her arm but didn't sheathe her machete, eyeing the angel across the room with suspicious eyes.

"What the hell?" Christian said, staring at Castiel as well, who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed in front of him. He hadn't been with them during the drive into the base, which Aubrey supposed she was thankful for.

Dean gestured to the angel. "Angel cavity search."

From behind the table, Samuel Campbell was facing away from them. He was holding one arm across his chest and breathing very heavily. Aubrey frowned sympathetically, knowing that Castiel had once again pushed his hand into another poor person's chest.

"I'm fine, Christian," Samuel said, looking over his shoulder. His face was red. "Just give us a minute."

Christian looked unsure. His eyes trailed from Samuel, to Cas, to Dean. "But—"

"Just give us a minute," Samuel repeated, and that was enough. Reluctantly, Christian nodded his head and turned for the door. At the last second, he looked over his shoulder and stared expectantly at Aubrey, who shook her head.

"I'll stay here," she told him. He frowned, and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Go wait outside, Christian."

The frown didn't leave his face, but he stepped out and closed the door behind him anyway. Aubrey sighed, sheathing her machete and scratching the side of her head as she mumbled to herself, "I swear, that guy is like a lost dog."

Samuel heard. "Only sometimes," he said, making Aubrey smile slightly. He nodded at her. "Aubrey."

"Samuel."

He straightened up and put his hands on his hips, still gasping for air. "What the hell was that about?"

"His soul is intact," Castiel spoke, stepping away from the old man. Aubrey purposefully kept her eyes on the Campbell, not wanting to look at the angel any longer than she needed to. Something in her told her that it went both ways.

"What?" Samuel asked. "Of course I have a—" He was cut short when Castiel threw a glance at Sam. After half a minute, Aubrey was the only one with her eyes on the ground. "What's going on, Sam?" Samuel said, staring pleadingly at the younger brother.

Sam shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever dragged me out left a piece behind." He frowned when Samuel exhaled loudly. He said, "Did you know?"

"No," Samuel answered immediately. "But I…" He trailed off, his eyes dropping to the floor. "I knew it was something. I…" He shook his head, finally meeting Sam's gaze. "You're a hell of a hunter, Sam, but the truth is, sometimes you scare me."

Aubrey pursed her lips, keeping her eyes down as, beside her, Sam's shoulders drooped.

"So, what's the deal here?" Samuel continued, looking to Aubrey. "How do we fix this? How do we get his soul back?"

"We don't know yet," she replied. "But we have to."

He nodded vigorously. "Well, I'm here to help, of course. What leads you working?"

"A bunch of dead ends, and you," Sam said.

"Well then, we'll just have to dig."

Aubrey did her best to keep from looking to the angel at the end of the room, though from the corners of her eyes, she could see that he was no longer interested in the present conversation. He was looking out the window with his chin up, and Aubrey was sure that he was staring at the heavens. "Sam, Dean," he abruptly said. "I have to get back."

Dean frowned. "You're leaving?"

"I'm in the middle of the civil war," Castiel replied sternly, turning away from the window.

"You better tear the attic up," Aubrey cut in, taking a step forward and staring him in the eye. "Find something to help Sam."

"Of course, because your problems always come first," the angel said coldly. She returned his glare, but he was the first to look away, turning to Sam and Dean. "I'll be in touch."

With that, and the faint sound of fluttering wings (it was louder and clearer to Aubrey), Castiel was gone. Aubrey's shoulders relaxed and she released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She sighed, closing her eyes and calming her mind. But that was when she felt stares boring into the back of her head, and she turned around to find three hunters staring at her, Samuel's more confused than the other two.

"What was that about?" he asked.

"Ongoing feud," Aubrey replied nonchalantly, raising an eyebrow when the old man frowned. I bet he never thought angels could even get mad.

He nodded slowly. "I would have asked him to stick around for a beer."

"Wouldn't have been worth it," Aubrey said. "Anyway, what's with the book club outside?"

"Putting together a hunt."

Dean frowned. "That's a lot of guys for one hunt."

Beside him, Sam started back, and Aubrey craned her neck to find a slight smile on his face. "You found him, didn't you?" he said.

"Who?" Dean asked.

"He's got a lead on the Alpha vamp," Sam answered, narrowing his eyes.

Aubrey did the same. "Do you?" She'd been waiting for the chance to kick the thing's ass. Their problem was that they never found it. Now that they did, she was pumped.

"Maybe," Samuel said. Aubrey was positive that even Dean could hear the faint excitement in his voice. The old hunter raised his head. "Yeah."

"How'd you find him?" Dean questioned, a suspicious tone creeping into his voice. Aubrey stepped forward, mildly curious as well.

Samuel took out a machete (which was very similar to Aubrey's) out of his duffel bag, smirking. "We're good," he said.

Dean tilted his head. "That's all I get? 'We're good'?"

In other situations, Aubrey would have been as suspicious as he was, but even she was excited to finally have a lead on the Alpha. She'd been waiting for revenge ever since Dean got turned, and Aubrey was known for her grudges. But she kept in mind the weed of distrust in her heart as Samuel didn't say anything else about how they had tracked the Alpha. In fact, he had lowered his eyes as soon as Dean had asked. Aubrey decided to stick to the status quo, but keep her eyes open to the possibilities as well.


p.s.

considering the height of Christian's infatuation with Aubrey, i swear that i won't let it go too far. and for those who have watched the series, "You're really pretty" means something more than him just pertaining to her face. ;)

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