Chapter Two
Now:
I always figured that there was a heaven, if there was a hell then it just made sense. I hadn't thought about it much. It gave me no comfort to think that one a loved one died, they might go to heaven and be at peace. They were gone, taking away from me. Nor did it comfort me to think that angles existed. Haven, angels, even God. They were all so sperate from Earth, like distant memories that were no longer important. There was no such thing as divine mandate, or fate and destiny, just kicking ass until you died. Dean being pulled out of hell by an angel because God had a job for him was not even in the realm of things that I thought possible.
"Well, then tell me what else it could be," Sam demanded for the hundredth time as he and Dean ran circular arguments around each other.
It was oddly comforting the bickering, even if it was giving me a headache. They were in the kitchen, Sam at the table and Dean walking around. Bobby was at his desk, flipping through pages in a book and shooting the boys annoyed looks. I had pulled a chair into the opening that divided the kitchen from the living room, leaning back to watch them go at it.
"Look, all I know is I was not groped by an angel," Dean insisted.
"At least he was a cute angel," I offered.
Dean rounded on me, "You're not helping."
"Okay, look, Dean," Sam interjected, throwing his hand up in frustration, "Why do you thing this Castiel would lie to you about it?"
"Maybe he's some kind of demon," Dean snapped, "Demons lie."
"A demon who's immune to salt rounds and devil's traps and Ruby's knife?" Sam shot back, "Dean, Lilith is scared of that thing!"
"Don't you think that if angels where real, that some hunter somewhere, would have seen one? At some point, ever?" Dean asked.
Both their eyes turned to me, as if I had all the answers. It wasn't the first time they had asked me what I knew about angels, "Um, well, there's tons of lore, but plenty of people claiming they've seen an angel. No actual proof they do exist, but also no proof that they don't. That's why I'm Agnostic."
"You're saying you believe?" Sam asked.
"I'm saying until you can prove otherwise, Castiel could very well be an angel," I shrugged.
"I think Dean seeing him is proof enough," Sam said, turning back to his brother.
"Did you read this lore?" Dean asked.
I shook my head, "I was more interested in fighting the things in front of me, ya know?"
"Yeah, but-" Sam started.
"I'm trying to come up with a theory here," Dean continued over his brother, getting more frustrated with every passing second, "Okay, work with me."
"Dean, we have a theory," Sam insisted.
"Yeah, one with a little less fairy dust on it, please," Dean snapped.
"I don't think fairies would touch angles," I told him, holding my thumb and forefinger an inch apart, "They're too little."
Dean eyes shot to me again, "Now you're telling me fairies are real?"
"At this point you should just believe everything is," I muttered.
"Yeah, all I'm saying," Sam said, "That I think we-"
"Okay, okay," Dean interrupted, "That's the point. We don't know for sure, so I'm not gonna believe that this thing is a freaking angel of the lord because it says so!"
I rolled my eyes, "No one said you had to, Dean."
"You three chuckleheads want to keep arguing religion, or do you want to come take a look at this?" Bobby called from the living room.
Sam and Dean shared a look, moving past me into the living room. I tagged along, sticking my arms between them and pushing them apart so I could stand in the middle as we gathered around the desk. Bobby flipped the book he was holding around to show us, on it was a picture of an angel with his wings out behind him and holding a scepter.
"I got stacks of lore: biblical, pre-biblical," he explained, "Some of it's in damn Cuneiform. It all says an angel can snatch a soul from the pit."
"What else?" Dean asked, staring down at the book.
"What else, what?" Bobby grumbled.
"What else could do it?" Dean emphasized.
"Airlift your ass out of the hot box?" Bobby asked, "As far as I can tell, nothing."
"Dean, this is good news," Sam said, looking at his brother with a smile.
"How?" Dean demanded.
"Because for once, this isn't just another round of demon crap," Sam said, "I mean, maybe you were saved by one of the good guys, you know?"
"Okay," Dean tone suggested he was done with this conversation, "Say it's true. Say there are angels. Then what? There's a God?"
"At this point, Vegas money's on yeah," Bobby shrugged.
"I don't know, guys," Dean said, shaking his head and pacing away from us.
"Okay, look," Sam said again, "I know you're not all choirboy about this stuff, but this is becoming less and less about faith and more and more about proof."
"Proof?" Dean asked.
"Yes!" Sam insisted.
"Proof that there's a God out there that actually gives a crap about me personally?" Dean asked, not to kindly, "I'm sorry, but I'm not buying it."
"Why not?" Sam demanded, sounding just as done with Dean.
"Because why me?" Dean asked, looking at each of us. My heart broke at the look on his face, like he wasn't worth the effort. "If there is a God out there, why would he give a crap about me?!"
"Dean," Sam said.
Dean just kept on going, "I mean, I've saved some people, okay? I figured that made up for the stealing and the ditching chicks. But why do I deserve to get saved? I'm just a regular guy."
"Apparently," Sam said when Dean stopped for a breath, "You're a regular guy that's important to the man upstairs."
"Well, that creeps me out," Dean said.
It kind of creeped me out, too. Knowing that God was peaking in on our lives, playing us like marionettes. I honestly hadn't given much thought to rather or not there was a God, and since there had been no divine intervention previously, I figured He would mind his and I would mind mine. It must have felt like such a large weight, feeling like God had a plan for him.
"I mean," Dean continued, "I don't like getting singled out at birthday parties, much less by… God."
"Okay, well to bad, Dean," Sam crossed his arms over his chest, "Because I think He wants you to strap on your party hat."
"Ha, strap on," I giggled, suddenly realizing how tired I was. They are turned their eyes to me, and I shrugged apologetically. It broke some of the tension that was building in the room however, and all of our shoulders relaxed slightly.
Dean cleared his throat, "Fine, what do we know about angels?"
Bobby grabbed a hand full of books that sat to his right and plopped them down in front of us, "Start reading."
"You're gonna get me some pie," Dean said, pointing at Sam. He slammed his hand down on the top book, yanking it with him as he turned and marched away.
"Or," I said, signaling for Sam to stay put while I hurried after him, "You can get you some pie."
Dean sat in Sam's vacant seat at the kitchen table, "Why would I do that?"
"Because I need coffee," I informed him.
Dean flipped open the book, smirking up at me, "Yeah, I noticed. Strap on?"
"Don't knock it till you try it," I said with a smile, flipping the book closed, "Maybe we could do a coffee-slash-pie run?"
Dean hesitated, "Together?"
"Yeah," I nodded slowly, "That's what I'm saying."
"What are you saying?" Dean asked.
I couldn't help rolling my eyes, "I'm saying maybe you could use a break."
"And?" Dean pressed.
"Okay, look," I pulled out a chair and sat beside him, looking deep into his green eyes, "I know the whole angel thing is intense, but-"
"Oh, it's more than intense," Dean interrupted.
"But you're the one who said if it would have been anyone it would have been me," I reminded him, "And we have time now. We could, you know, talk?"
"Like a date?" Dean raised his eyebrow, "You want to go on a date, now?"
"It's not a date!" I insisted, "There's a lot we need to talk about. Besides, we've gone on food runs together before."
"True-"
"I'll tell you what happened between me and Sam," I offered.
Dean thought this over, "Fine, let me get my coat."
The drive to the local grocery store was filled only with the sound of the class rock drifted from the stereo. There was some awkward tension between us now, and I wasn't sure where to start the conversation. We hadn't actually been alone together since he had been back, and before we where trying to jam a whole relationship into sixth months. Which shouldn't have been to hard, but it seemed every time we had a moment something got in the way. Maybe there was some sort of bigger hand at play here.
We went to the local coffee shop first, to get of drinks to sip on while we got our groceries. Dean and I walked into the shop and placed our orders, then stood next to the window to wait for our names to get called. Looking around to make sure no one was close enough to overhear our conversation, Dean asked, "Is this everything you hoped it would be?"
"Is what everything I hoped it would be?" I raised an eyebrow at him.
"This date," Dean said.
"First, this isn't a date," I said, "Second, I'm not a hard date to please, Dean. We could do laundry just the two of us and I'd still consider it a date."
"But this isn't a date?" Dean demanded with mock annoyance.
I smiled and slapped his arm, "Do you want this to be a date?"
"So, what happened between you and Sam?" Dean asked instead.
"Right to business then," my smile grow, certainty looked like he wanted it to be a date, "Well, he called me. Super drunk-"
"Wait," Dean said, cutting me off with a raise of his hand, a look of hurt flashing across his face, "This isn't a sex thing, is it?"
"Ew, no!" I slapped him on the arm again, "It was not a sex thing! I didn't spend the better part of six months trying to sleep with you just to sleep with Sam."
"So, you admit you were trying to seduce me?" Dean teased.
I smacked him again, laughing, "Shut up!"
"What was it then?" Dean asked, his face turning serious. They called our order and we went to retrieve it, existing the shop as turning toward the grocery store.
"Well, he wanted to trade me for you," I told him, looking down at the coffee in my hand. I had been so hurt by Sam suggesting that, like my life was expendable, "Thought that since Lilith wanted to dissect me, it would be a fair trade."
"You have got to be kidding me," Dean snapped, running his hand through his hair, "What was Sam thinking?"
"He was drunk, in pain, and desperate," I shrugged, "I'm pretty sure he was just thinking about getting his big brother back."
"What did you do?" Dean asked, looking at me out of the corner of his eye.
"I punched him," I said, smiling sheepishly, "He didn't talk to me after that."
We entered the grocery store, and Dean grabbed a basket. We walked the isle in mostly silence, only talking to decide what food to get. At the register Dean paid, and we tossed our empty drink containers in the trash on the way out the door. On the way to the car, I slid my hand into Dean's, interlacing our fingers. He stared down at me but didn't pull away. When we got to the car, we stood by the passenger side door.
Dean looked down at our interlaced fingers, "I don't want to hurt you, True."
"I don't think you're going to," I told him.
"There are things about me you don't know," Dean focused his eyes on me.
I reached up and touched the side of his face softly, "We have time to get to know each other."
"Why would you even want to be with me?" Dean asked, that look of worthlessness slipping back into his features.
"Dean, I think you're a great man," I told him, "Your kind, passionate, strong. I mean, I could go on, but then we would never leave this spot."
Dean flashed me a sad smile, dropping his eyes, "You deserve better than me."
"I couldn't find someone better then you," I said.
Dean lifted his head, "This could get really complicated. God has a plan for me after all."
I smiled at him, "God's gonna have to get in line. So, are we gonna do this? Date, I mean?"
Dean tilted his head forward, brushing his lips against mine in response. I wanted more, but he pulled away, "We should get back, got a lot of research to do."
I made a face, making Dean's face break out in a smile. He opened the door for me and I slid into the car, shutting the door as Dean walked around to get behind the wheel. I slid across the seat and curled up beside him, linking our arms together and resting my head on his shoulder. Dean put his hand on my knee and we headed back to Bobby's, my heart full of bliss.
When we got there, Bobby and Sam where outside, loading supplies into the back of Bobby's car. I slid a little away from Dean as we pulled up beside them, not wanting them to know just yet at Dean and I were moving forward in our relationship just yet. I barely knew what we were doing, I couldn't very well explain it to another person.
"Keep the engine running," Bobby said, the happiness that had been bubbling in my chest died at the look of worry on his face.
"Why?" Dean asked, leaning slightly in my direction to get a better look at Bobby, "You found something?"
"I got a friend one state over, Olivia Lowery," Bobby explained, leaning against the window, "I've been trying to reach her for three days on this angel thing. It's not like her to ignore this many calls."
"This Olivia Lowery's a hunter, right?" Dean asked.
"Yeah," Bobby confirmed, "We're gonna go check on her. You guys follow me.
"In the back, Sammy," I said, biting my lip and popping my eyebrows up at him as he walked to the car. He gave me a disgruntled look but got into the back all the same, his long legs practically up to his chest as he closed the door.
A couple hours later we were pulling up to a small, ordinary looking house. Filling out of the car, we moved to the trunk without a word. Dean pooped it open and pulled out three shotguns, handing one to me and Sam. Bobby joined us with his own shotgun and lead the way to the front door. Sam quickly picked the lock, and Bobby pushed open the door.
"Olivia?" Bobby called, stepping inside.
Dean went in next, followed by me, with Sam bringing up the rear and closing the door behind us. We followed Bobby deeper into the house, looking around for anything out of the ordinary. The sight in the living room had my stomach drop. A woman I assumed was Olivia, or what was left of her, was lying on the floor in a pool of her blood. Something had torn open her chest cavity, her rips broken and splintering outward.
"Bobby?" Dean asked.
I tore my gaze away from Olivia just as Bobby hurried behind us. He bolted for the door, throwing it open, he left the house without saying a word. I wanted to go after him, but even if I tried to comfort him, he wouldn't have it. Plus, we had to find out what had attacked Olivia. Sam stepped forward, Dean and I following after.
"Salt line," Sam pointed at the salt on the ground, it had been unbroken.
Slowly stepping over it, we approached Olivia. She had reached a violent end, no one deserved to die like this. I took a closer look at the wound in her chest, it looked like the thing had taken her heart. The only think I could think would do that was werewolves, but a salt line wouldn't have stopped one.
"Werewolves, you think?" I asked, looking up at Sam who was crouched on the other side of Oliva.
Dean moved to the closet where a hidden cache of weapons and hunter gear sat open, and picked up a device, "Olivia was rocking the EMF meter."
"Spirit activity," Sam confirmed.
"Not werewolves," I muttered to myself, "What kind of ghost would do this?"
"One on steroids," Dean said as Bobby came stumbling back into the room. Sam and I straightened, "Bobby, you all right?"
"I called some hunters nearby," Bobby painted, looking torn between shock and fear.
"Good," Dean interrupted, "We can use their help."
"Except they ain't answering their phones either," Bobby huffed.
"Something's up, huh?" Sam asked.
"You think?" Bobby and I asked at the same time. Bobby shook his head, walking back out of the house.
It was decided that we would leave an anonymous tip for the police to find Olivia. As much as we wanted to give her the hunters funeral she deserved, we didn't have the time. I joined Dean and Sam as we drove toward a man name Jed's house, while Bobby went off to check on a few other friends. We found Jed on his kitchen floor, a wound similar to Olivia's in his chest. We left the house with our heads bowed, and Dean called Bobby.
"Yeah, we're at Jed's," Dean said, "It's not pretty. He looks even worse than Olivia. What about you?... What the hell is going on here, Bobby?" Dean demanded, handing Sam his car keys and motioning for us to get in the car, "Why did a bunch of ghosts suddenly want to gank off-duty hunters?... We're on our way.
Dean fell asleep about an hour into the drive, which blew my mind. I was exhausted, but I found myself with my head back, staring up at the roof of the impala. There was no way I was going to be able to sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I could see Jed and Olivia's bodies. The engine to the impala revved, and I looked up as Sam pulled into a gas station. He got out of the car and grabbed the nozzle for the gas, tucking it into the back of the car to fill the tank.
"I'm going to hit the head," Sam said, peaking through the window at me.
I looked over at the back of Dean's head, I didn't think he would wake up till we got to Bobby's. It would be a nice surprise for him to wake up to pie. I pushed open the door, forcing Sam to back up as I got out, "I'll get some snacks."
The only person inside the gas station was the clerk, who was busy stocking the selves. He called us a friendly greeting, Sam and I splitting up. He headed off to the bathroom, and I strolled up a down they isle. I grabbed some jerky, two Hostess cherry pies, and a bag of Funyuns. I was heading toward the drinks section when the lights above me begun to flicker. I glanced behind me, looking for Sam or the clerk, but neither of them where in sight. I placed all the items in my hands on a random shelf, heading toward the bathroom. When I reach the end of the isle and rounded the corner I froze in my tracks.
Standing a few feet away from me was Indigo, my dead younger brother. He had been tall for a fourteen-year-old, nearly the same height as me, but his face was still round from his baby chub. He had brown hair, like our father, but we had the same round brown eyes. He was dressed in a dirty white t-shirt, jeans with holes in the knees, and black boots. If it wasn't for the pale look on his face and the dark circles under his eyes, I would have thought he had returned to me too.
"Indy," I gasped. My throat felt like I had just swallowed cement, tears already burning my vision, "Oh, my god."
"Why didn't you save me?" Indy asked, "You promised. You promised you would always be there."
"The Circle sent me away," I told him, begged him to understand, "If I had known… I'm sorry, Indy."
"Sorry isn't good enough," Indigo said.
I looked at him, horrified by the completely evil tone of his voice. Indigo walked forward, wrapping his long fingers around my neck. His nails dig into my skin, cutting of my air way. I clutched at him, but he was too strong to pry off. Lack of oxygen made my limbs weak, my knees buckled and I hit the ground. Indigo didn't let go of my neck, his free hand reaching back. His fingers curled like claws.
"Hey," Dean's gruff voice boomed from somewhere behind me.
A shotgun went off, making me jump. The rock salt collided with Indigo, making him blast apart like smoke. I gasped as my lungs were able to pull in air, and coughed from the rabid intake, collapsing onto my hands and knees. I glanced up at my baby brother, watching as he flickered out of sight.
"No," I coughed, reaching for him. It was foolish, but he was still my baby brother.
"True," Dean said, wrapping a hand around my arm and pulling me to my feet, "Where's Sam?"
"The bathroom," I ran my hand through my hair. I both wanted and dreaded to see Indigo again, I had forgotten about Sam.
Whipping out his shot gun, Dean hurried into the bathroom. I stayed rooted to the spot, my neck burning. This time I didn't jump at the sound of the shot gun or seconds later when Dean banged out of the bathroom, dragging Sam behind him. Other than look dazed with a cut over his eye, he looked okay. With the shotgun at the ready, Dean sild his hand into mine and pulled me out of the gas station. Practically forcing me into the impala, while Sam deposited himself into the passenger front seat. After quickly putting the gas nozzle back, Dean got back into the car and started it. He tore out of the parking lot and raced down the highway at speeds pressed me into the seat. Keeping one hand on the wheel he pulled out his phone and called a number.
"Damn it, Bobby! Pick up," Dean yelled, as he hit the speed dial on his phone for the fifth time before turning to Sam, "How you feeling, huh? How many fingers am holding up?"
"None," Sam said, "I'll be fine, Dean."
"You said it was Hendrickson who attacked you?" Dean asked Sam.
"Yep," Sam answered.
"And the kid?" Dean asked, looking at me in the review mirror.
"Indigo," I forced myself to say, pain vibrating through my chest, "My little brother."
"Why?" Dean asked, "What do they want?"
"Revenge, 'cause we got them killed," Sam said.
"We didn't get them killed," I said softly. I wasn't sure if I was talking about Indy or Hendrickson, but I tried to convince myself that it really wasn't my fault that either of them had died, "We didn't know what was going to happen."
"I agree with True," Dean said.
"I don't," Sam scoffed, "We did."
"Alright, stop right there," Dean said snapping his phone shut with a click, "Whatever the hell is going on, it's happening to us now, okay? I can't get a hold of Bobby, so if you're not thinking answers, don't talk at all."
The ride to Bobby's house was silent, none of us had any answers. The only one who did, wasn't answering his phone. We waisted no time running up the front steps of Bobby's house and quietly busting through the front door, shotguns at the read. The house, like usual, was silent.
"Bobby?" Dean hissed.
We rushed down the hallway and into the kitchen, turning to sweep the living room. Dean snapped his fingers to get our attention. We walked out of the living room and into the hallway. At the bottom of the stairs was an iron rod, it was the only sign that Bobby might have been attacked. Dean knelt down and picked it up, turning it over and leaned it against the wall.
"True and I'll go up," Dean whispered pointing up the stairs as he looked at Sam, "You go outside."
"No," I whispered back, "I'll check the basement."
Dean only nodded as his rose to his feet. He didn't glance at me as he ascended the stairs. Sam hesitated, looking down at me before giving me a curt nod and turned. I made my way back down the hallway to the basement door, keeping my finger on the trigger as I pushed the door open with the toe of my boot. The stairs descended into darkness. Taking a steading breath, I walked down them. Pausing at the bottom of the steps, I reached up and gabbed the light switch. With a yank, the basement was cast into light.
"Pops?" I called, moving around the basement toward the panic room, "Indy?"
A chill ran up my spin, making me shiver. I gasped and my breathed fogged up in front of my face. I walked on, turning in slow circles as I searched for Indigo, "Come on out, Indy."
"You called him Pops," Indy snarled from behind me. I flipped around, pointing the gun at my baby brother, "Do you not care about dad at all?"
"It's not like that, kiddo, and you know it," I said. I thought it would be a little easier facing him this time, now that it wasn't such a shock, but it wasn't. It still hurt, all I wanted to do was throw my arms around him and hold him close.
"You turned your back on us!" Indy yelled, "Got yourself a nice new family! Don't you care about what happened to me?"
"Of course, I do!" I yelled back, swallowing down a sob. I took a shaky breath, it would be no use falling apart now, "That's why I left! The Circle is the ones that don't care!"
"No, you didn't care!" Indy yelled, walking toward me, "You were supposed to protect me, but you let me die! You where to busy worrying about yourself!"
"Indy, please," I begged, "I love you."
Indigo's hand whipped out, ripping the gun from my hands and throwing it across the room. Instincts took over as I dropped into a crouch, shooting out my leg and smacking his ankles together hard enough to knock off his balance. I took this time to get behind him and slam my foot into the back of his knee, forcing him to the ground. I swung my leg intending to kick him in the head, but he vanished, causing me to spin and stumble. Indigo appeared again, and I swung my leg again, but he caught it. Keeping a tight hold, he pulled me forward, almost causing me to do the splits. Then he slammed his forearm down hard on my knee, forcing it down. I gasped at the pain, and he threw my leg up, sending me backwards and slamming into the ground.
"It's almost like old times," Indigo loomed over me, "Remember when we used to train? I never could beat you."
Indigo pulled up his leg, and slammed his foot into my stomach. My body convulsed, my lungs burning from the air that was forced out. I tried to roll away, getting onto my hands and knees, but he landed another blow to my stomach. I reeled, pain shooting across my side. He grabbed a fist full of my hair, forcing me to look up at him before the back of his hand slammed across my face.
"I'm stronger than you now, big sister," Indigo snarled, yanking me on to my feet and shoving me into a nearby pillar.
I caught myself before I fell, and spun, round house kicking Indigo in the head. He stumbled to the side, but it was enough time for me to scurry across the floor to where the shot gun had fallen. Snagging it, I rolled on to my back. Pointing it at my brother, I said, "I'm sorry for what happened."
"No, you're not," Indigo hissed, reaching forward.
"And I'm sorry for this," I pulled the trigger.
The gun yanked up as it sent rock salts hurtling toward Indigo, colliding with his torse and making him vanish. I collapsed on the ground, panting hard. Tears burned my eyes and throat, but I fought to keep them at bay. I needed to get up, to keep fighting, but I just couldn't.
"True?" Dean called, thundering down the stairs.
He was enough for me to force myself to my feet, whipping at the tears. I didn't want him to see me like this. Dean came to a halt in front of me, looking me up and down. He looked as if he had gotten the shit beat out of him, and more tears prickled at my eyes. I rage boiled in my chest; this was stupid. We where in danger, Bobby could be dead, and here I was balling my eyes out like a baby. I covered my face with my hand, not wanting Dean to see me. A sob escaped me.
"Sam found Bobby," Dean whispered, rubbing my back, "He's okay."
He stepped forward, gently wrapping his arms around me and pulling me against his chest. I leaned against him, burying my face in his shirt and breathing in the sent of his soap. I clung to him with my free hand, searching for the strength to stop crying. We had a job to do.
I sagged a little more against Dean, relieve washing over me, "I'm sorry."
Dean stopped rubbing my back, his hold tightening around me, "You have nothing to apologize for. I couldn't imagine… if it where Sam…"
Taking one last deep breath, I reluctantly pulled away from Dean. I looked up at him, forcing a smile. His hands came up to wipe tears from my checks, and he tucked hairs behind my ears so he could gaze at my face. I could only imagine how I looked with puffy cry face, but Dean only staired at me. His face serious, but soft. I titled my face a little into his hand, comforted by warmth of them.
"You know it's not your fault, right?" Dean asked, tilting my chin up with his hand, "What happened to Indigo, it wasn't your fault."
"It feels like it is," I whispered, "If I had been there, if I hadn't been so stupid…"
"You can't change the past," Dean said, sounding like he was trying to convince himself as much as me, "And we can't save everyone."
