Artz: *breezes right in like she owns the place with a Cheshire smirk on her face and a wicked amusement dancing in her eyes*
Hello, darlings...look what I found.
*a heavenly light shines down on a college ruled notebook with a red cover, the sound of an angelic chorus singing in the background*
Anna: *pulls the plug, making both the light to turn off and the chorus to stop* Seriously?
Artz: Oh come on! This is an absolutely incredible discovery!
Anna: *swings the plug around lazily, an unimpressed look on her facial features* It's a notebook.
Artz: *an evil grin appearing on her face* Perfectly sound analysis, but I was hoping you would go deeper.
Anna: *sighs, her body slouching from exhaustion* Look, sis, I just pulled two double shifts the last two days. I'm too tired to be your Watson right now.
Artz: Well if that's how you feel…*looking a little miffed but then looks at her with a rather smug expression on her face*...I suppose I can wait to update it until after New Year's. Oh wait, it would have to wait until after my birthday...which is a week after New Year's.
Anna: *frowns, her curiosity getting the best of her again* Update what? A story obviously but which one?
Artz: *smirks in a knowing manner* The one that brought us together, of course.
Anna: *frowns in confusion, her tired brain not making the connection* The Lost Angel? Didn't you already start posting the revamped version already? Beyond the Night, right? Where did you come up with that name anyways?
Artz: *giggles like a certain twisted little imp* The title is the name of the song that Teyla sings in Stargate: Atlantis after her grandmother dies from old age...but that's not the story that brought us together.
Admittedly, it was the story that kept us together but not the one where we first crossed paths with each other. Come now, Anna, there has been a story you have been begging me to update...especially since I found the notebook that contained the missing chapters I had already written.
Penny in the air.
*there is a long pause...3...2...1...ding!*
Anna: *screams* Holy Shit!
Artz: *raises an eyebrow* And the penny drops.
Anna: *starts running around, grabbing things like snacks, a box of tissues, and starts brewing coffee...in three different coffee makers and pulling out several energy drinks*
Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god! *pauses for half a second* Oi! Stop staring at me and get to the bloody chapter already!
*continues rushing about and keeps glancing at the coffee makers in annoyance* So slow! Hurry up already!
Poseidon: *walks in and wondering what was going on* Everything alright, love?
Artz: *opens mouth to respond but has to stop herself from laughing*
Anna: *stalks up to the Third Captain, a look of pure venom in her eyes* Leave...now.
Poseidon: But I only just…*yelps in pain when Anna bites hand* Bloody hell! What the devil has gotten into you?! *all color drains from his face as his eyes go wide in fear*
Anna: *hands held out with palms upwards, fireballs appearing around her, her eyes a vibrantly glowing molten silver*
Poseidon: *his voice shaky* Calm down, love. No need to roast me. *backs away slowly* I'll...I'll just be...uh...going...away, far...very far away. *turns and runs as the fireballs chase after him*
Anna: *stalks back over to the coffee makers as if willing them to brew faster* Shouldn't you be typing, Artimes?
Artz: *munching on popcorn and holding a soda* And miss out on you turning my God of the Sea into a deep fried guppy?
Anna: *sideways glare*
Artz: *raises an eyebrow, a smirk on her lips* Glare at me all you like, dearie. It will just delay the chapter is all.
Anna: *horrified* Please...pretty please… haven't I waited long enough? Why must you torture me so much?
Artz: *snorts* That's like asking why we put our characters through the infinite levels of heaven, hell, purgatory and limbo, only to throw them back into the cesspool that is life.
Anna: Artz!
Artz: *grins* Relax, Starshine. I'm not cruel all the time.
Anna: Just most of the time.
Artz: You said it, I didn't.
Mars: *forms from flames and into her human form* I'll do the disclaimer. *clears throat* Neither Artz nor Anna own anything they make references to, nor do they own Supernatural. They do, however, own their own characters and all the insanity that follows in their wake.
Hook: *pops in briefly* Oi, wench! Post Chapter Sixteen of Chosen already!
Artz: Is that an order, Captain?
Hook: Yes! Now get to the bloody chapter, wench!
Chapter Sixteen: Dancing Soul
"Dean." Artimes spoke.
His heart skipped a beat, his mind coming to a complete halt. He slowly lifted his head and he was stunned by what he saw. Her eyes were swirling with an electric blue light.
"Artz." He breathed his voice barely above a whisper.
Dean Winchester, one of the most renowned and infamous hunters of the supernatural, could barely believe what he was seeing. Artimes Blaine, more commonly known as Artz Lanaria, was actually alive. She had been shot by a demon and infected with an incurable poison...his brain refused to operate properly and he was pretty sure that he was gaping like a fish.
"Do you mind getting off of me? You're not exactly light, Starshine. You need to lay off the bacon cheeseburgers, dude." The redhead teased with a smile on her lips.
The electric blue light swirling in her eyes began to fade as if retreating deeper into her body and once it was gone, the elder Winchester was broken out of his trance like state. He did as she requested, trying his best not to laugh like a fucking idiot from the intense surge of relief flooding his system. Before she had a chance to think, he had her sitting up and his lips planted firmly against hers in a searing kiss that left them both breathless.
He did not apologize for assaulting her mouth but he did pull her completely into his arms, hugging her tightly...afraid that this was all just a dream. His hands eventually made their way into her hair as he buried his face into her neck. He was trying very hard to wrangle his deeper emotions back under his control and then he breathed in her scent. His mind began to calm, his heart slowly drifting back into a less volatile state, and the warmth of her body melting the stress and tension in his own.
"Sorry I was delayed, traffic was a bitch." Artz stated softly, her sassy side coming through loud and clear.
Dean laughed in response but refused to release her just yet. She was alive. He didn't lose her...she came back. His thoughts and emotions shifted radically and became quite murderous. He was going to outright murder and mutilate that fucking demonic bastard, Alistair. His mental and emotional states shifted again when the ginger in his arms began to sing softly.
"Beyond the night, a rising sun. Beyond the night, the battle's won. The battle's won.
Fear and shame now in the past. Pain and sorrow gone at last. Gone at last."
She sang before humming the instrumental part and then singing the rest,
"Circle renewed, peace will be found. Beyond the night on sacred ground.
River flows led by the wind. First new breath, our journey begins. Our journey begins."
Beauty, brains and that bombshell of a singing voice...yep, definitely his Artz. Dean, rather reluctantly, loosened his hold on her which allowed them to see each other's face. The crimson haired woman had no idea just how much of an effect she had on the elder Winchester. She was only looking into his eyes, so much warmth and kindness in those gorgeous blue eyes of hers...he wanted so badly to kiss her again.
The intensity of that desire still came as a shock to him then following right after was the fact that they hadn't known each other very long, but his feelings for her were very real. He didn't even know what those feelings were. He couldn't name them but they were so strong, so unrelenting. She made him feel alive by simply being by his side...everything else was just icing on the cake. Though in their case, it was more like whip topping on a very scrumptious looking pie.
"I thought...for a minute...I thought...damn it, I thought you were dead...like for good this time. You've got to stop this whole Let's scare the living daylights out of Sam and Dean thing. A guy can only take so much, ya know." He rambled as she wiped the lingering moisture from his face with her sleeve.
"It's not like I plan this shit, ya know. It just sorta happens...besides you doubted me? Shame on you. They don't call me the Queen of Jiggery Pokery for nothing." She snapped lightly with a hint of sarcasm, "Now where the hell is that brother of yours? He did kinda see me get shot."
The elder Winchester swore inwardly, having actually forgotten what had occurred a few minutes ago. He pointed over to the unconscious brunet crumpled on the floor to the right of the bed. The redhead went bug-eyed, gasping in shock, and scurried across the bed and onto the floor, the blond joining her after a moment.
"What the hell happened to him?" Artz demanded checking him over for any severe injuries.
"Yeah about that…" He started but wasn't quite sure how to word it.
"Dean, what the hell happened to Sammy?" She ground out, the electric blue light appearing in her eyes for a fraction of a second.
"After Cas gave you his mojo...you kind of threw him into the wall." He answered rubbing the back of his neck.
"I threw him into a wall? Seriously?" She echoed disbelief written all over her face.
"Hey, you're the one that got juiced up by a winged dick, so yeah, you literally pushed Sammy away like he was nothing but a ragdoll." Dean verified some his usual snarkiness finally returning.
"Oi! Castiel is not a dick! Wings, yes...being an utter douchebag, no. That's his superiors and no harping on him either. Unlike the rest of the universe, he doesn't have a choice. He must obey every order given to him by his superiors because if he doesn't, he dies. Disobedience is not tolerated the heavenly hierarchy." The crimson haired woman snapped but then noticed the out cold angel on the opposite side of the room, "Cas!"
"He's fine. He's just asleep." The elder Winchester informed as she practically flew across the room to kneel next to the slumped over angel.
"That's the problem, Dean. Angels don't sleep!" She informed closing her eyes for a moment.
It was like she was in some kind of trance or something, but she came out of it pretty quickly. She stood up and placed her hand on the dark haired angel's head.
"Torezodu, Castiel." She spoke softly and the angel's head popped up, his eyes slightly out of focus.
She helped him get back on his feet, but he was practically laying on her. Jimmy, his current vessel, was extremely exhausted from the transference.
"What's with the gibberish, Artz? I mean...are you speaking in tongues or something?" Dean questioned very confused about her words and actions.
"It's Enochian, Dean. The ancient language of the heavenly host." Castiel answered while still trying to get his bearings.
"If it's angel talk then how does she know it?" The hunter demanded still not fully comprehending what was going on.
"That's something I would like to know too. I mean I dabbled a little with Enochian before I came here but I was by no means fluent in the language. What gives?" Artz also questioned.
"You're very special, Artz. Most of the Chosen live their lives without ever unlocking their true potential. The Crest of Purity is more than just a means of identification, it's knowledge. Every Chosen possesses all the knowledge of the angel's including our language, but you're different.
You are for more than you appear to be. I have never seen or heard of a Chosen that is as powerful as you are nor has any Chosen been able to absorb an angel's grace without their body being destroyed, but you did. Your strength and purity is unlike anything I have ever encountered and you instinctively called upon the Crest of Purity to give you the knowledge that you needed to awaken me." The angel explained thoroughly shocking the redhead and further confusing the blond male,
"Now that you have my grace within you, it will be easier for you to access that knowledge, but it will not help you summon the Celestial Guard. That is something you must discover how to do on your own, otherwise it won't work."
"Chavtastic, I now have an even bigger target on my back and flashing in neon lights that practically screams bag, tag, and torture." Artz stated annoyed that there was even more questions that needed answers, "Do you have enough grace to heal Sam? I apparently threw him into a wall before your grace fully purified the toxin from my body."
"Yes, I believe so." Castiel replied as the ginger woman helped him over to the still out cold brunet.
The Angel of Thursday placed two fingers to the younger Winchester's forehead and half a second later, he was collapsing again. Fortunately, Dean was close enough to help the crimson haired woman keep the clearly exhausted angel on his feet, though he was definitely not alright.
"His injuries were minimal but...my grace...he will experience...memory loss." Castiel informed swaying quite a lot.
"Memory loss? How much memory?" The elder Winchester demanded his eyes shining with worry for his kid brother.
"Minor amnesia." The angel answered beginning to sag in their arms.
"Alright that's enough! Castiel, I order you to return to heaven and recharge your grace then return to me, but only if you can do so without alerting your superiors...and thank you, thank you for saving my life." She stated firmly before her tone softened in gratitude.
The dark haired angel gazed at the dimensional traveler with soft eyes, making the blond hunter wonder what was going through the guy's head at that moment. With a fluttering of wings, the Angel of Thursday vanished, resulting in the two that had been holding him to crash into one another and ending up on the floor.
The ginger began to giggle at just how ridiculous that was and the elder Winchester relished the sound of her quiet laughter. He knew that he was getting lost in the moment again, but he couldn't help it. He was just so relieved that she was alive. He needed to do better, be better, do everything he could to keep her safe without invoking her wrath because if her heart stopped one more time, he was pretty sure that something in him would break and there would be no going back.
….
It had been a few hours since her second brush with death. The younger Winchester was still unconscious and if one listened closely, they would hear him snoring. Meanwhile the elder sibling was being taught how to dance by the resident Supernatural expert...the waltz specifically. Don't ask her how he managed to find her Glenn Miller CD amongst all the rest of the junk in the black beauty that was the Impala.
The blond hunter insisted that he was ready to lead but every time he tried, Artz would start leading instead, resulting in the pair laughing as they constantly stepped on each other's feet repeatedly.
"Hey, it's the guy's job to lead so you need to let me do my job." Dean teased making her smile, a soft blush coloring her cheeks.
"Come now, Dean. Don't make me drag you into the twenty first century. Just follow my lead and everything will be fine and dandy...and maybe a little saucy." The redhead replied her brilliant blue eyes sparkling in amusement.
The hunter pulled her closer to him so that his head was gently pressed to the side of hers, her pulse quickening from the close proximity.
"Trust me." He whispered softly into her ear.
Her entire body heated up in response and she had to stop herself from trembling in his arms. Her heart was beating so fast that it felt like she had two hearts instead of one, but then the song they were dancing to came to an end. She almost laughed when she recognized the opening bars to her favorite song from the big band era, Moonlight Serenade.
She barely noticed how easily they danced to this song...probably because she wasn't actively paying attention. She was too busy remembering the scene that had made her fall in love with the awesomeness that was Glenn Miller. Season One of the Doctor Who reboot, the episode called The Empty Child...In the Mood was in the second episode of the two part adventure, aptly named The Doctor Dances.
The year was nineteen forty one, at the height of the German blitz of London during World War II...there was a mysterious invisible ship tethered to Big Ben, the famous British clock tower and icon of the country of England. Atop this ship was a foxy American captain, former time agent turned conman, and a lovely blonde girl wearing a shirt emblazoned with the Union Jack and from another time.
One Captain Jack Harkness and one Rose Tyler were sipping champagne and dancing to Moonlight Serenade, resulting in the ginger's slight obsession with big band music and here she was in the arms of the ruggedly handsome Dean Winchester, dancing to the very same song. It was wonderful, a truly amazing and lovely moment, a memory she would cherish for the rest of her life.
Which brought up the fact that she wasn't even halfway through Season Four and she has already died twice. At this rate, she was going to surpass the boy's record. She didn't really want to think about it, but Dean had told her about Alistair's lieutenant and the fact that the professional torturer that had broken the elder Winchester's warrior spirit actually viewed her as the greater threat!
Which begged the question of why? Why did Alistair believe her to be more dangerous than the Winchester brothers? Hell more dangerous than the angel's that were undoubtedly hunting him and just how long would it be before the white eyed bitch, Lilith, decided to come after her too? Why? What was so special about her that made her appear to be so dangerous to such powerful demons?
She would admit to herself and to her Angel of Thursday, that she was afraid. Unlike the brothers, she wasn't a warrior. She hated conflict and fighting...it was senseless to her. Every time she went out on a hunt with the boys, she felt such compassion and sorrow for the so called monsters that the boys had been ganking since they were children.
Artz had done more crying here in the Supernatural verse than she ever did in the other world. She honestly wished that she wasn't alone, carrying this burden all on her own, but she would never force someone else into this life of monsters and mayhem. There was one though, a dear friend, her sister in all ways save blood...her truest believer...she wouldn't hesitate to come here.
If given the choice of living a normal life in the other world but without Artz or to willingly jump head first into a world of blood and death but have the redhead by her side...there was no doubt what her sister would choose. She would come her...for her...for the woman she called her Doctor. Artz remembered a specific line spoken by Reinette in the episode The Girl in the Fireplace.
"One may tolerate a world of demons for the sake of an angel."
In the Whoniverse, you couldn't have the Doctor without the monsters too and for her truest believer, she was worth it. The crimson haired woman could never fully comprehend why her closest and dearest friend believed so strongly in her, why her faith was absolute, her trust unending, her belief unbreakable...why did she love her so much?
There was little point in wondering about it now. Her beloved sister was safe in a parallel reality and no one knew of her existence, not even Castiel. Although she deeply trusted her Angel of Thursday, one order from his superiors and he would be forced to divulge that information. It had been a gamble when she told him about the show, but she desperately needed help trying not to buckle underneath the weight of it all.
The only thing she could do for her truest believer now was to protect her from the insanity of this universe, her Doctor and the monsters...she really needed to stop thinking about this because her dance partner was sensing the shift in her emotional state. He brought her closer, tightening his embrace a little...letting her know that should she need anything, anything at all, he would do all in his power to see it through. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to simply live in the moment...and right now, it felt good to be home.
….
The duo that was a blond and a ginger had worked up quite an appetite while doing all those lessons and dances, especially when they got to In the Mood...wow, just wow. Dean Winchester definitely knew how to move to that groove and the little Dalek put that song on repeat. By the time he was done making her thoroughly dizzy and her stomach growling loudly to be appeased, he finally relinquished her from his embrace.
She plopped into the nearest chair, stretching and popping her sore limbs and neck while her former dance partner retrieved the provisions and supplies from the Impala that had been forgotten until now. Sadly, the more perishable stuff had to be thrown away but the pies were unharmed and thanks to the sun beating down on the black beauty, the pies were still warm.
She found it strange...it was all doom and gloom before she got shot, poisoned, and died a second time, but not long before she and Dean had started dancing, the clouds upped and vanished like they were never there in the first place. She wondered briefly if a certain writer was involved with that.
Oh she so wanted to meet Chuck, for two reasons...one equals squealing like an insane rabid fan girl and probably hug tackling the guy to the floor...the second, once fan girl moment had passed, she was going to beat the holy living shit out of him and get some fucking answers...and a fucking guide book on how to deal with all of this!
She was distracted from her rather fangirlish/violent thoughts by the elder Winchester placing her pumpkin pie in front of her, already cut and ready to eat. She...demolished that pie and flicked some of the pie crust at her blond companion when he started laughing at her.
Their little moment was interrupted when the younger Winchester awoke in a panic, actually falling out of the bed because his wild movements. He called out her name and she inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. Neither she nor Dean had been certain of just how much of Sam's memory was going to be lost, so it was definitely a relief hearing her name.
"In here!" She called out to the still panicking brunet.
He scrambled off the floor, practically tripping over his own feet, only to screech to a halt when he saw her perfectly safe and sound. He let out a choked laugh when the ginger smirked as she flicked some more pie crust at the unsuspecting elder sibling, resulting in a few muttered curses and a half hearted glare thrown in her direction.
"You're okay...but...but you were shot. I saw it! How did...what the hell happened?" Sam rambled trying to understand what was going on.
The crimson haired dimensional traveler and the blond hunter explained what had occurred after she had been shot; her weird vision dream, the Judas Toxin, the Angel of Thursday, and the odd behavior of the fourth horsemen of the apocalypse.
"I actually met an angel, actually met Castiel and don't get to remember?! That's just...so unfair." The younger Winchester whined having been wanting to meet the angel that Artz constantly talked about and the very same angel that had saved his brother from hell.
"Don't worry, Sam. This won't be the last time we cross paths with my Angel of Thursday." The ginger stated a knowing look in her eyes and a small smirk on her face.
"Why do you call him that? The Angel of Thursday?" Sam asked genuinely curious.
"According to certain biblical texts, there is an angel referred to as The Angel of Thursday but is more commonly known as Castiel. In the forum for the Supernatural Wikia, there was a lot of chatter about Cas being a unique angel, one designed for a special purpose." She answered elaborating a bit further.
"And what's so special about your winged Martian?" Dean piped up earning a small snort of amusement from the redhead.
"When watching the show, I noticed that he always acted differently from every other angel that was depicted or interacted with. One of his superiors, Naomi I believe her name was, commented on the fact that he didn't function like a typical angel...even going so far as to imply that he was, in fact, defective.
Personally, I believe that Castiel is the way he is supposed to be. God doesn't make mistakes and it's no coincidence that he is the one that we interact with. Even the captain of the Celestial Guard treats Castiel differently from all the others. In fact, it may be possible that my Angel of Thursday is a member of the Guard and simply doesn't know it." She postulated taking on a speculative look.
"Okay, putting that aside...what is the Celestial Guard?" The younger brother inquired.
"Yeah, Cas mentioned them before too." The blond hunter commented curious as well.
"I don't know much about them to be honest. Before coming here, there was no mention of the Celestial Guard. Heck, the whole Chosen thing wasn't mentioned either. Two complete new and foreign concepts introduced to this world and both are somehow connected to me. I won't know more unless I can figure out how to summon him." She answered staring it dark liquid in her coffee cup.
"Him?" Both brothers said in unison.
"The Captain of the Celestial Guard and supposedly my personal protector...it's ridiculous. His name is Benedict Strathem…" The redhead began but was interrupted by the younger Winchester.
"Benedict Strathem? Isn't that the name of the First Captain from Stardust?" He questioned his brow furrowed in confusion.
"Good memory and yes, he is the leader of my Blood Guard in The Star Chronicles. The fact that they both share the same name and basically the same position within the Guard raised some pretty big question marks for me. It also makes it more difficult to work out how to summon him because he doesn't respond to the language of the angels, but he also doesn't respond as the Hollow of Destruction either.
I'm not really sure what to do and now I've got demons targeting me for some stupid reason. Cas said that I was viewed as the greater threat which makes no fucking sense to me and don't even get me started on the bean pole that is Death. Gives me a headache just thinking about it." The blue eyed woman explained body slouching as if being weighed down by some huge invisible pressure.
"What is Death's deal anyways? I can understand why the winged Martian wants to keep you alive and the whole Chosen thing obviously, but the fourth horsemen of the apocalypse, fucking Death himself? That...I just don't get. What the hell does he get out of it?" The blond hunter questioned trying to wrap his brain around the fact that Death itself seemed to have taken a rather unusual shine to his girl.
"Dude, don't look a gift horse in the mouth. Just be grateful that he likes me. As for what he gets out of keeping me alive...less work." Artz replied her tone a bit snappish.
"Less work?" Sam echoed.
"According to mister bean pole, this world walks a much darker path than the one I have seen in the show and that it is absolutely vital that I stay alive." She revealed not really believing what she was saying.
"A darker path? Like apocalypse dark or something worse?" The brunet asked worry slowly creeping in.
"What the hell can be worse the fucking world coming to an end?" Dean commented his voice dripping in sarcasm.
"Universal entropy." The redhead stated making the brothers cringe slightly.
The dimensional traveler had explained the Reality Bomb from Doctor Who to them and how she used it in The Star Chronicles. Which would someone prefer, angels and demons that can actually be killed and the apocalypse possibly averted...or watching the stars go out one by one, knowing that there was nothing that could be done...literally facing the absolution of certain death with no way out, nowhere to run, no one to fight, and basically being absolutely powerless to stop it before ultimately dying in the dark silence?
"Death is of the opinion that without me…" She started and the brothers could see the disbelief in her eyes, "...that without me, you two will stray so far into the darkness that you'll be completely destroyed; mind, body, heart, and soul.
It's stupid...why because you're Sam and Dean Winchester. You two stick together like super glue, no matter who are what is trying to rip you apart; angels, demons, the apocalypse, the whole damn world coming to a fucking end. Yes, you guys have problems and a shit ton of emo, but you always work through it. Even if you separate for a time, you always come back to each other.
You have been forced to walk the path of warriors, but that path can never destroy the bond you two share. You're brother's. You walk into the dark and gank the sons of bitches trying to turn people into an all you can eat buffet. You'll mule headed, willful to a fault, and all around fucking stubborn...its not easy with all this supernatural bullshit and absolutely no recognition for the many heroic acts that no one knows about, but you always look out for each other, even when you feel like bitch slapping each other all the time.
The truth is...I am a weakness, a vulnerability that you cannot afford to have, something to be exploited, used to manipulate you, lead you into a trap, or straight up get you killed. I go out on hunts and I end up crying all the time because where you see monsters, I see beings that have been tormented for simply being different.
Like the shape shifter, he was so much like me, he drew strength from the cinematic world, he was lost and alone and scared. He didn't deserve to die, he just wanted someone that didn't see him as a monster. And Jack...he was human, it wasn't his fault that he was a rougarou. He just wanted to live a normal and happy life with his wife and his future child. Then there are people like Travis...people so far off the deep end that they do things that are even more horrific than anything the so called monsters have ever done.
I'm backwards, the complete reverse of what a hunter should be. I care too much for all living things yet I'm terrified of my own species. I can't seem to comprehend why humans are so cruel, knowingly committing such horrible acts when the so called monsters are on instinct or simply trying to protect themselves. Who I am is not something that you need. I'm completely wrong for this kind of world yet I still choose to walk it with you. You honestly don't need me at all."
The crimson haired woman from another reality was once again crying, but this time her tears were silent. She couldn't hold them and the boys were the only ones with the exception of a few others that she would willingly cry in front of, to show weakness. What she said was true, the brothers knew just how kind and compassionate she was and the deep respect and reverence she had for all forms of life, but it was for that very same reason why they needed her because they forget to feel.
They become so embroiled in the supernatural world that they lose sight of their hearts, focusing solely on the next case, the next fight, the next monster to gank. They constantly drive a wedge between them because they stop feeling, running solely on instinct or simply being blinded by the events happening around them and to them.
Artz was different, so incredibly unique, even after all the fighting, killing, dying, the fear, the grief, the sorrow, the rage, the blood lust and thrill of combat...she was still her. No matter how deep she is plunged into the realm of the supernatural, her heart remains open and honest, her kindness does not wane but in fact, gets stronger. Her reverence for life is steadfast, her courage is inspiring, and her love was beyond words, beyond imagining.
"Most of that is true, but you're not a weakness or vulnerability or something to be taken advantage of. In the last twelve hours, my world went fucking nuts. I lost all forms of logic and reasoning, my emotions beyond my control and what was it that brought me back...the answer is you, so spout off all that bull about us not needing you all you want to because I know that I fucking need you. You're the only thing that makes any damn sense in this fucked up life of ours and we can argue about this for eternity, but it doesn't change anything." Dean spoke honestly and from the heart.
The ginger stared at him, not entirely sure what to say to that. She didn't have any words and that frustrated her, but then Sammy decided to chime in and turning this whole damn thing into one fucked up clusterfuck.
"He's right, Artz. By being around you, getting to know you, seeing the way you interact with the world...I've learned things about myself, I've grown as a person, as a man, even as a hunter. You made me better simply by being you, you make me want to improve, to change, to see the world in a different light because you were right when you said the world was exploding in fucking technicolor.
My brother and I, we grew up as warriors, as soldiers, and somewhere along the way, we forgot what it meant to be human, to actually feel rather than fight. I have learned so much from you because you are special, you are unique, you are unlike anything we've ever encountered before, and we are better for it.
You say that we don't need you, that you're wrong for us, a liability, but you couldn't be more wrong. When I saw you get shot, the world came to a screeching halt. Watching you fall to the ground and covered in blood, something inside me just shattered to pieces and nothing made sense anymore...like everything that me and my brother have accomplished was completely worthless.
You are so strong, Artz, so much stronger than us. Ripped away from your world and tossed into ours and yet you still have the strength to smile, to laugh, to still find joy in everything around you...remarkable. When facing down supernatural beings that can tear you to pieces, you just stand there like a fucking badass. Hell you scolded a ghost for a being a jackass and that his mother would be ashamed of his unruly behavior.
I can safely say that I would rather have you by my side than as an enemy because you are a force of nature, you make the Humanoid Typhoon feel like a gentle breeze and the Oncoming Storm into a water sprinkler. Quite frankly, we need you because you're our heart, you make us feel, you help us to remember just exactly what we're fighting for, and most importantly, you make us remember who truly are...a pair of idiot brothers...saving people, hunting things, the family business.
The truth is we need you but you...you don't need us. For you, we are the liability, a weakness that can be exploited, but we're selfish bastards that don't want to let you go and so you stay because you care, to you ...we are your family." The brunet hunter stated firmly, not holding anything back.
"And you just proved my fucking point." She replied getting up from the table and walking out the door without another word.
The brothers looked at each other, a silent conversation taking place between them. They hadn't realized just how bad off she was, just how much her past had destroyed her...specifically how she viewed herself. She couldn't see what they saw, feel what they felt, or comprehend just how profound an impact she had made on their lives by simply being herself. They definitely had their work cut out for them and they honestly believed that they alone will be enough to save her from her worst enemy...herself.
….
The dimensional traveler known as Artz Lanaria was currently sitting on the hood of the impala, her back resting against the windshield and she was staring up at the sky. The sun had just set slipped below the horizon and it was now her favorite time of day...twilight, a time when it is neither light or dark but a perfect mixture of the two.
She was having some problems with what the boys had said. They were relying on her too much, giving her credit for things that she had nothing to do with, and just digging a deeper hole for themselves. She would admit that she was different but she was hardly special. Unique...maybe, but she wasn't some instrument of ultimate change or anything...she was just her, plain ordinary her.
The fluttering of wings reached her ears as her Angel of Thursday appeared right next to her. She sat up instantly, worry written all over her face.
"Cas! Are you okay? I mean you weren't gone very long. Are you sure you're alright?" She asked in a rush, most definitely worried about her favorite angel.
"I have recovered sufficiently enough, but you can't keep running away from them, Artz. They need you." He answered making her glance away.
"Why? Why do they need me, Castiel? So what if I'm a Chosen, so what if Death has a soft spot for me? Everybody's wrong! They don't need me! Why would they need someone like me?!" She demanded her deeper emotions finally erupting.
It was bound to happen sooner or later. She had a bad habit of bottling her emotions, pushing everything away to focus on the task at hand and then just flat out ignore them until the pressure becomes to great and she explodes like a fucking super volcano. She let out a squeak of surprise when the dark haired angel forced her back onto the windshield before placing his hand inside her body.
It was the weirdest fucking sensation. She didn't actually have any words that could properly describe what she was feeling and then he grasped hold of something inside of her. Her entire body began to shine with an electric blue light, a warmth unlike anything she has ever felt before flooding out of her, and there was a song, a beautiful melody that reminded her of Sailor Saturn's theme.
She looked up at the angel causing this to happen, searching for answers because she didn't understand what was happening. She only knew that it was wonderful; the light, the warmth, the melody...it was incredible, but what was it? Where was it coming from?
"This is why they need you. What you're feeling right now...is you. This is who you are, not what others have made you believe. This...this is your soul, Artz. This is why God chose you." He explained gently.
"Me? This...this light...is me? It's so warm and the song is so beautiful. Is this really me, Castiel?" She whispered tears coming to hers once more.
His hand gripped tighter and she was practically swallowed whole by the intensity of it all. Her Angel of Thursday looked at her with such soft and kind eyes, recognition flashing across his face for a moment.
"I know who you are." He said softly, awe in his voice as his other hand brushed through her hair.
He smiled at her, so many emotions on his face and in his eyes. She had never seen him be so expressive before. He was no longer wearing a mask. For the first time, she who he was…. who he truly was at his core. Her vision began to swim as the light and warmth enveloped her fully and then all was dark.
The dark haired angel removed his hand from her chest, the essence of her soul retreating back inside of her. He felt something wet on his face and he reached up to wipe it away, only to realize that he was crying. It took him a moment to understand why. Angels did not have souls of their own, but he did. When the essence of her soul pierced through his vessel, he had felt it; two souls within the same body. One belonging to his vessel, Jimmy, and the other belonging to himself.
How was this possible? What did it mean? An angel with a soul...he knew that there was two that God created though no one understood why...except for Captain Strathem, he seemed to know why and the way he looked at him. Did the Captain of the Celestial Guard know that he possessed a soul of his own? At this point, it didn't matter because she needed to be protected, no matter the cost.
He knew who she was now. She was more than a Chosen, so much more. There were no words to describe the joy he felt, knowing that she existed and that she was here. It made him so happy. No wonder his grace didn't destroy her physical form. It would take a great deal more power than angel possessed to burn her out. No demon would be able to possess her either. In fact, it would take an entire legion of demons to even suppress her for a short time.
Castiel focused entirely on her, adding several more layers of Enochian symbols, solidifying the concealment array as well as strengthening her natural defenses. He would not allow any other angels to grasp her soul. He had to keep her safe, he needed to keep her safe...he will rebel if he has to because from this moment on, her safety, well being, and happiness were far more important than any order from his superiors. Yes, he was her Angel of Thursday, but more importantly, he was simply hers.
….
Anna: What the fuck?!
Artz: Not good?
Anna: More like what the fuck just happened?
Artz: The Blood Guard invaded?
Anna: NO! I mean what the fuck just happened between her and Castiel?! I thought this was a Dean/Artz story?
Artz: It is.
Anna: Then what the fuck was all that with Castiel?!
Artz: *smirks* Show me how clever you are. Work it out.
Anna: What?! You can't just do something like this and walk away?!
Artz: I just did. Now I'm swanning off. Seeya! *walks away*
Anna: Damn it, Artz! You've got to tell me what's going on! *races after her sister*
Artz: No I don't. It's called suspense, sweetie, and is a plot device writers use to build anticipation.
Anna: Anticipation, my ass! This is like Twilight all over again!
Artz: I'm doing my best to not be insulted.
Anna: I mean you're gonna end up with one of those team wars! Team Dartz and Team Arcas!
Artz: *stares at her with a I don't give a shit look on her face* So? It wouldn't be the first time, ya know. People fucking rioted when they found out that the Doctor was married to the Seer in The Jumper Chronicles. I had people wanting the whole of time and space to be rewritten just so that Artz could have the Doctor and other people wanting Artz to get with either Jack or Koschei.
Anna: You're not gonna tell me, are you?
Artz: At last, she's clever!
Hook: *watches the sisters continue to bicker as they left* To be fair, I think it was pretty obvious what happened there at the end.
Light: She got tired.
Mars: More like loopy. She nearly dropped her phone while typing up the ending.
Poseidon: You can't really blame her, firefly. She did just work the weekend prior to Christmas and you know how brutal this time of year is.
Preacher: Just be grateful that she's not a bell ringer this year.
Light: Chorus of the Bells or Hell's Bells?
Poseidon/Preacher/Hook/Mars: Through Fire and Flames.
Light: Oh shit. Um okay, on that bombshell, just uh leave a review or several and thank every deity in creation that she is not bell ringing this year. *zaps away*
Hook: Guess that's our cue to leave then.
Mars: Whatever gave you that idea, Captain? *the duo walks off*
Poseidon: And as always, I'm the last to leave.
Preacher: I'm making an effort to not be insulted.
Poseidon: Buy you a drink?
Preacher: You're not my type, aqua lad.
Poseidon: I'll buy out the pub.
Preacher: You do that and you'll have to deal with the King of the Crossroads.
Crowley: *drink in hand* That's the King of Hell. Some of us can afford the upgrade.
Missy: Mmm...saucy.
Poseidon/Preacher: Fuck me.
Crowley: Well if you insist…
Missy: Let's make jam.
Poseidon/Preacher: *runs away*
Crowley: Works every time. *clinks glasses with the leader of the Chaos Brigade*
Missy: Was it something I said? *the duo wander off*