Author's Note: Sorry for the lack of updates! I've been so busy with school and holiday preperations! When I did have free time I was feeling so burned out that I could barely concentrate on writing. Hopefully this will make up for it! And I'm on winter break as of now so I have lots of free time to update and Jesus do I have ideas.

Here's a little disclaimer as well, it'll seem random and out of context but I don't want to spoil the chapter for you. Earliest descriptions of angels in texts and the Bible itself don't describe them as we see them in art. Beautiful faces with wings, the Bible says that angels can take on the form of man but it is not their true form. And the hierarchy of angels deems that each class has a different appearance from the others. Also, I'm following the Christian angel hierarchy.


"See, what you have to ask yourself is what kind of person are you? Are you the kind that sees signs, that sees miracles? Or do you believe that people just get lucky? Or, look at the question this way: Is it possible that there are no coincidences?"

- Mel Gibson/M. Night Shyamalan, Signs (2002)

〖 〗

"You're going to have to come with me,"

John, AJ and I looked up from the crime scene photos spread out on the table to see a man with slicked back hair and a pressed three piece suit standing over us. John's upper lip unconsciously curled over his teeth and AJ sized him up disdainfully. He screamed 'Fed' complete with red, white and blue strobe lights. Well, I couldn't exactly judge as I was myself a federal agent. However, I took great precautions to avoid stepping on my coworkers' and local agencies proverbial feet. It was bad for solidarity. Captain Sanchez stood a few feet behind him, arms crossed over her chest and dark face frowning.

"And you are?"

"Agent Nazareth," He flashed me his badge. "CIA," I appraised him for a long moment. He couldn't be any older than forty, but was still handsome. His slicked hair was dark blond, skin tan and light brown eyes framed with light crow's feet. Olufemi had never mentioned his name before.

He sensed my suspicion. "It's a matter of national security,"

"I bet you say that to all the girls."

AJ stifled a snicker. Agent Nazareth's grin widened. "I have it on high authority that you're one of the few people who can assist in this."

The emphasis wasn't lost on me. Sighing, I glanced apologetically at John and AJ. "Above average intelligence but delusions of grandeur, took some college courses but never graduated. Portrays a scholarly image but doesn't have the attention span to really read or understand the books he keeps in his office. Big and sensitive ego and rage toward women. Similar age range to the victim, look at casual acquaintances or friends with the same people while not friends themselves. Keep me updated," I gave a quick profile for the case on the table while pulling on my coat.

Agent Nazareth led me outside where a sleek black town car idled against the curb. "After you," He opened the back door and ushered me inside. There was a solid divider between the backseat and the front.

"Is this the part of the movie where I end up in a black body bag and I'm never heard from again?" The lack of witnesses was distressing. He laughed. "And there is no way in hell that your last name is legally 'Nazareth'."

He shrugged loosely. "It's company policy to have codenames assigned to us. My superiors don't even know my real name, only payroll knows that." He grinned wryly at that. "Just call me Joseph."

I stared at him. "Joseph Nazareth*. Seriously?"

"It's kind of our thing."

I tried to ask more questions but Joseph hushed me. Soon we were driving out of the city and hurtling down the interstate toward Pennsylvania. It was a lengthy drive. I began noticing strange things. There were faded etchings on the car's interior. The bottom of the windows had a white accent that I realized was crystallized salt. I hummed to myself.

Finally, as the sky was bleeding orange and red, the car came to a halt on a back road in some bumblefuck town in Pennsylvania on the side of a mountain surrounded by trees. We stepped out, the faceless driver leaving the car running as Joseph led me toward this shaky looking lean-to shack under a canopy of pine trees. Every female rape-torture murder case I ever worked flashed through my mind. "Erm..."

Unlike most lean-tos, I saw once we got closer that there was a keypad beside the door. Joseph typed in a string of numbers and the door swung open inside. Once inside, I realized that it was 4x4 and completely empty. However, once Joseph closed the door I heard a loud whirring noise and a release of hot air. Suddenly the floor lurched under us and lowered. It felt like I had stepped into a Batman comic. The government didn't actually have hidden lairs like this, only the Hollywood version of the government did.

And yet I found myself standing on a descending floor of a shack that let out to a dark hallway. Joseph grabbed my hand and pulled me along, somehow able to see in the pitch black. Just as my anxiety reached its peak and the muscles in my arm tensed to rip my arm away Joseph pushed open another door and bright light flooded my vision.

"Hey kid," Sharise greeted gruffly, leaning back in a solid wooden chair. Olufemi was there as well. And so was Ed.

"The hell?" I blinked, the shock of light stinging my eyes.

Joseph shuffled me inside and closed the door behind us. The room resembled the common area of a college dormitory. A handful of mix matched couches and overstuffed chairs occupied half of the floor. A stove, microwave, fridge and cabinets took up a corner of the room as well as a table and chairs that the others were sitting at. A flat screen TV hung on the other wall.

"And these will be our quarters?" Ed asked Joseph. The rest of us frowned at their familiarity, even Olufemi. Joseph nodded in answer.

Sharise grunted and Olufemi looked uncharacteristically stiff. I was flabbergasted. "What the hell?" I repeated. Ed grinned at me and pat the chair next to him, silently gesturing for me to join them. Resigned, I mentally prepared to be destroyed by Executive power and slumped into the chair. Joseph smoothed the vest and shirt of his suit idly well he waited for us to settle like we were children in elementary school.

"What's going on, Ed?" Olufemi asked. "How do you know someone in the CIA that I don't?"

"Because knowing me is above everyone's pay grade. You only get to know if I want you to."

Olufemi stared. "Are we being punked? Is this like a Men in Black** LARP-ing*** thing? Did Sean from Accounting put you up to this?"

Joseph just smiled benignly. "The CIA has a sub-organization you might have heard of. National Clandestine Services,"

"Hn?" Sharise grunted, arms crossed stiffly over his chest. She could smell a bullshitter in a blizzard.

"It serves as the covert arm of the CIA-"

"You can be more covert then the CIA?"

"-In a way yes." Joseph sighed wearily. "And within the NCS is the Special Activities Division. It serves two main purposes, tactical paramilitary operations and covert political action. I am a Paramilitary Operative, and it is my civil duty through the power invested in me from the United States government to actively seek out, assess, and recruit individuals who possess knowledge that could affect international relations and warfare."

"What do you want with us?" Sharise was unimpressed.

Joseph looked to Ed for help, shrugging in resignation. The Navy SEAL groaned as he pulled himself to his feet and idled over to stand beside the other man. "Ladies and gentle Nigerian, the world is getting smaller and there's talk. Lots of it, between politicians and warlords and nations who aren't exactly our best friends forever. And they, along with some of the top brass here, are starting to see clearer."

"Stop speaking in riddles," I snapped.

Ed just blinked at me, light blue eyes almost translucent. "Have you all noticed it?"

"Noticed what?" Olufemi asked warily.

"Hell is becoming bolder and bolder, like they're restless." He glanced at me, face unreadable. "Elisha," His voice softened though his expression did not. There was a hitch in the way he said my name, like a prompt.

"I don't know anything." I asserted.

He just continued to stare at me. Closing my eyes, I begged God for absolution. "The Winchesters," And I told them. All of it, every bloody and tragic detail beginning when John Winchester haughtily walked right up to me in the middle of a coffee shop like he would burn down the whole world and enjoy it.

Joseph nodded contemplatively as I spoke. "We have suspected for quite some time that certain demonic entities have been providing humans with their blood to consume. However, we are unsure of its significance or its side effects." He hummed. "I wonder at their particular interest in Sam Winchester however."

"How does the government even know about all of this?" Olufemi asked.

The agent shrugged. "It's a long story, my superior is in constant contact with the Pope and they both agree that something is coming. And others are starting to figure that out."

"How so?"

"What are bullets to a being that is immortal, or guns or drone strikes to those who possess the weapons of Biblical wrath?"

I stared at him for a long moment, feeling a heavy dread burrowing deep into my bones. "What you're saying is," I reiterated slowly. "is that the next nuclear arms race is for supernatural and Biblical warfare?"

"That is exactly what I am saying," Joseph replied. "And what's worse, you all know particularly well the nature of demons. They owe no allegiance to man, indeed probably are inclined to think of us as mere insects most of the time, or playthings to amuse themselves with at our expense. But politics do not see that, all they see are weapons. When Hell is no longer amused by our wars, they will wage war on us themselves. Countries are playing with fire," Joseph inhaled silently and gestured to Ed. "The President feels that it is in the best interest to have all weapons accounted for in one place, to ensure that no one may use them. But we need soldiers and operatives who can protect themselves from demons and the like. The Pope particularly mentioned the twelve American exorcists for the task."

Ed leaned back casually against the wall, feet idly crossed at the ankles. "I've already led a few raids and recovers for some of these relics, but there are too many and I don't have the manpower, resources or time to find the rest alone." He shrugged and grinned sheepishly. For a man in his forties and streaks of grey in his black hair, and a bloody job, Ed had a surprising uncomplicated disposition. "You three are the only ones I trust, with the connections on your own to boot. Olufemi's CIA with connections in Africa, Sharise is too damn sharp to be wasting her instincts as a dope buster****, and Elisha's the best damn profiler in the Bureau. The fact that you can all hold your own against a demon's a plus too."

"Is that why the others aren't here?" Olufemi inquired nonchalantly. Only we exorcists on the East Coast had been recruited, and as Joseph said the Vatican trained twelve of us.

"This operation requires some traveling. And like Joe said, Satan's getting stir crazy. We gotta' leave the majority of us to hold down the fort."

"And keep an eye on Sam, and those like him?" The question came out colder and more like a statement that I had meant it to.

Ed nodded solemnly, almost regretfully. "Yes, and that. Elisha, remember we still don't know what consuming demon blood does to humans. They could be a danger to themselves or others and not know it, or God forbid our national enemies find out about them."

I understood it, but the idea still sat sourly in the pit of my stomach.

"And where are we all to go?"

Joseph touched Ed on the shoulder, he was to begin briefing us and it seemed Ed would be taking an assignment as well. I wondered at him. A world class sniper, Navy SEAL captain and a formidable exorcist with the heart of a child but the fight of a Titan.

"And you still haven't told us what the hell this place is," Sharise reminded him tartly.

"This is a Special Operations Group base; we specialize in the Special Activities Division for paramilitary tactics. Here is the main deployment and research facility of the Armor and Special Programs Branch. We are charged with development, testing, and covert procurement of new personnel and vehicular armor and maintenance of stockpiles of ordnance and weapons systems."

"And you won't make a lot of friends in this job, so this is a safe house. If you ever need it."

"Oh thank God, I thought it was a poorly renovated bomb shelter." Sharise snorted.

Joseph ignored her. "Each of you is assigned to discovering the location of, and procuring of a mythical Biblical weapon. Not only are black arms dealers on the hunt for these, but so is every other nation on the planet as well as some pretty nasty supernatural beings. Our intelligence has been able to identify specific regions where all analyses indicate the weapons location. However, a particular coordinate and location is unknown."

He paused for a moment, as if collecting his thoughts. "I'm not going to lie to you, this is as top secret and classified as it gets. There are about seven people in the world who know all of the details of these missions, the President being one of them. We aren't an agency that accepts criticism or responsibility. The things we have to do are the ones that no one will contemplate doing. If you're captured or discovered, we and the US government will deny all connections. So for God's sake, be discreet."

Oh yeah, this is going to end splendidly. It only took one Winchester for me to result firmly wailed on by a demon; this would end in Lucifer himself eating my soul.

Maybe this is a blessing in disguise. The thought occurred to me suddenly. My revelation from a few weeks ago in that shabby hotel room with a bag of greasy doughnuts in my hand had refused to give me peace. Sam Winchester was someone who was unattainable to me- no, that's incorrect. Sam Winchester was someone who was off limits.

John asked me to look out for his boys. It was the last thing he said to me; I translated it to a last request. I couldn't let my own feelings complicate things between my charges and myself. It was unethical, corrupt-

And way, way too crippling.

I placed Sam's life far higher than my own, but it terrified me that I placed it above everything else.

Getting far away from him may lend me some perspective.

Joseph separated us before assigning us our individual operations. In the event that one of us was captured, we could not endanger the others if we cracked. Ed smiled reassuringly at all of us and squeezed my arm briefly. "I don't worry about you at all, kid."

I was led to a small room with a mirror, one-way no doubt. There was a cheap looking metal folding table and chairs, but otherwise the drab grey room was empty.

Save for the man in a trench coat. Or, at least I realized later it was a trench coat.

Natural law, or at least how I perceived natural law, was being bent to the point of breaking in half. Blinding, dazzling, and burning heat filled the room and my nostrils and blazed across my skin. It went through the ceiling, sluicing through the stone and solid material like a spirit. I wondered how far it went. And then there were the wings.

All six of them.

Two burning wings were draped across what I surmised were feet. Another two spread from the sides, twitching and stirring as if restless. I found myself terrified at the thought of seeing this being hurtling through the sky in flight. The last two wings covered its face, but I knew it was looking at me.

I made a noise, some garbled sound of consonances and vowels shoved together. Joseph stood behind me, unperturbed.

"Maybe I should try turning her off and then back on?"

"Ah," A gravelly voice came out of the fire and light and heat. "Well this was unexpected."

Unable to form coherent thoughts, I continued to spew word vomit and stare dumbly and terrified. I shivered half out of pure fear and the other as goose bumps bloomed over my skin. The heat was all encompassing, creeping through my pores and brushing against the vertebrae of my spine. The sensation reminded me of when I was a child, lying soft and curled in my bed on a wintery evening but lulled to sleep wrapped in warm, comforting blankets. The panic drained out of my lungs and my heart rate slowed.

"True Sight is... rare." The voice mused, shifting. Feathers of light twitched where its face should be, the set of wings twitching over it. "What does my voice sound like?"

"Like a garbage disposal clogged with silverware but still running." I forced out, voice slightly slurred from the sleepy calm the fire warmed.

There was a pause and it shifted. I realized it was looking at Joseph. "Yeah," He said with a shrug in his tone. "You sound like you've been smoking since the womb, it's an accurate description."

"Few humans can withstand hearing an angel's true voice, fewer still able to gaze upon our true form. I have never learned of one who could see but not hear."

I grunted.

"It has been said that those with True Sight can close their eyes to the supernatural, metaphorically of course. It requires you to focus however."

After a few minutes of trial and error, I was finally able to discern something different inside me. It felt like there was a new aspect to my mind that had not been there before. Like a switch, I mentally flipped it and suddenly the fire and heat and wings and light were gone and there was just a man with blue eyes that seemed too ancient and a rumpled trench coat.

"So... y-y-you're..." I swallowed the lump in my throat. Now that I was able to compose my thoughts, I processed the conversation that had happened moments before.

He tilted his head, dark hair rumpled as if he was tossed through a hurricane. His expression was grave and dark blue eyes seemed to stare through me right into my soul. It wasn't an intense, piercing gaze however, merely observational. Aside from his wrinkled tan trench coat, he was wearing a white button down with a dark colored suit jacket over it and a pair of slacks and dress shoes. Some poor white collar schmuck had to be dormant behind that fire and light.

"Elisha, you have the misfortune of being highly spoken of by not only your bishop, but by your fellow exorcists and federal agents as well. I've been led to believe that not only is your faith as sturdy as they come, but every federal agency uses you for the most classified interrogations." Joseph's mouth quirked into a grin

I frowned, warily eying the angel and uncomfortable by such praise. "Erm..."

"Therefore, you are assigned the most prized weapon of them all."

"Goody," Bitter sarcasm practically dripped from my words.

Joseph passed me a plain manila folder. Inside was a single sheet of paper with an image at the bottom. It was a spear head, old and decayed but bits of its elegance was still visible. Etchings in the blade were faintly visible as well as evidence of intricate designs on the handle. My eyes devoured the words, my mouth going dry and blood draining from my face as I read on.

"The Longinus*****?"

For the first time since I had met him, Joseph's face was completely devoid of amused mirth. "A weapon that wounded the Son of God, possibly the only source of genetic evidence of Jesus Christ is a formidable weapon to those who would use it."

The idea of a demon like Meg possessing such a thing frightened a decade off my life.

"And," Joseph nodded to the angel, who had remained silent but ever watchful from his spot beside the table. Eyes flickered from Joseph to me, gaze staying on my face for such a drawn out moment that I wondered if he was trying to pull the very soul out of me. "The Host of Heaven is understandably interested, so they've graciously agreed to a joint effort."

His tone implied that the Host of Heaven was very unhappy about that.

"I'll leave you two to get acquainted," Joseph plucked the paper and folder from my hand. "You can swap stories on whose First Communion celebration was wilder, or whatever." He practically flounced out of the room.

The angel and I stared at each other for a long moment, both awkward and completely unsure of the proper etiquette and decorum for this situation.

"Um, I'm-"

"Elisha Gideon," He supplied, rough voice falling over me like gravel. "We've been aware of you for some time. Those who invoke God's name and authority, and for the reasons that you do, make you quite known to Heaven."

I can't tell if that's a compliment...?

"I'm sorry if this is offensive, but I have no idea who you are." I replied sheepishly, feeling myself flush at being so disrespectful to an Angel of the Lord.

"My name," He replied easily without an insulted tone. "is Castiel."

〖 〗

Joseph Nazareth: Joseph was the husband of Mary, mother to Jesus Christ. Before they were married, i.e. while Mary was still a Virgin, is when the angel visited her and told her that she would bear the son of God and to name him Jesus. Therefore, Immaculate Conception. Joseph was cool with this, and still married her and raised Jesus. Nazareth is the largest city in the North District of Israel. In the New Testament, it is described as the childhood home of Jesus and therefore is a very important location for Christians.

Men in Black: Movie franchise about a secret government organization called MIB where all employees no longer 'exist' on paper.

LARP-ing: Live Action Role Playing.

Dope buster: Slang, joke. Narcotics police detective.

The Longinus: Also known as the Holy Spear or The Spear of Destiny. The spear that pierced Jesus' side during Crucifixion. It is named after the Roman soldier who wielded the spear.