Hello lovely readers! Thank you so much for your patience, I know this one took a long time. Writer's block has not been kind to me lately, but now that summer is upon us I will hopefully have some more time to get you more chapters. Until then, enjoy!
Hello boys.
The greeting that was clearly very familiar to the Winchesters, echoed through the air. At first glance, Phoebe wasn't sure what to think of the man that had just appeared in her kitchen. He was dressed well, in a black, pinstriped suit, and his eyes looked normal for a supposed demon. They were dark brown, and judging from the matching smirk on his face, slightly amused with the situation he was in.
"What? No greeting for such an old friend?" Crowley taunted, his slight British accent adding an extra bite to his words. "You summoned me here, the least you could do is have some manners about it, don't you think, Moose?"
Sam scowled at the nickname, but didn't reply.
"I'm the one who summoned you here," Piper informed him, her tone rigid and authoritative.
Crowley scowled, "Lovely, you're teaching more people how to hold me against my will."
"It's not as if you don't deserve it," Castiel added.
"Ah, Castiel. You're still with us I see. How disappointing," the demon shot back, and then turned back to the boys. "Let's forget the formalities, shall we? What do you and your… coven, want?"
"Do you know who we are?" Piper asked.
"The Charmed Ones, isn't it? My old pal, The Source, was big fan. I heard rumors the boys were working with you. Surprising really, considering the boys' particularly violent opinion of witches."
"Where exactly did these rumors come from, Crowley?" Sam asked. "Could it be from the demons you've been sending to attack this family?"
Cowley blinked, "Demons attacked? When?"
"A few days ago, and again a little over a week ago," Paige told him. "A horde of them wrecked Dean's car as well. Their hellhounds nearly took me out."
Crowley didn't reply. Phoebe would have expected him to laugh, or make fun of them for being so powerful, and not being able to protect themselves. That was the bad guy's usual shtick. But instead, he stayed quiet, looking as though the gears were turning in his head, like he was trying to make some kind of a connection.
"Are you seriously trying to tell me that you don't know anything about these attacks? That this had nothing to do with you?" Sam asked.
"I am a lot of things, Sam, but I don't go back on my word. Not ever. What kind of a crossroads demon would I be if I didn't know how to make good on a deal?"
"Then why are they after my son? Why are they attacking my family?" Piper shouted, obviously not believing him. "You know something, so spill it mister."
Crowley squinted at the eldest Charmed One, and smiled, "You're full of spunk aren't you? I didn't catch a name, darling, but I'd love to know you a little better."
Piper shot him a sarcastic smile in return, "It's Piper, and I'm taken. Back to why your demon creeps are after my son—"
"I promise you Piper, if there are demons coming after your child, I don't have a hand in it. I don't even know who your son is, much less have a use for him." He turned to the brothers, "You're sure they were demons, not shapeshifters or one of the other many things that always seem to find you boys?"
"They were demons," Sam replied. "We exorcized them, even saved one of the vessels."
Crowley turned, laid his eyes on Leila, studied her for a moment, and turned back, "She can't tell you where they came from I take it?"
"She has no memory of that time," Dean piped up. He had been leaning against the counter for the start of the conversation, keeping himself out of any possible confrontation. Phoebe could tell he was doing a lot to dial it back, and she felt for him. "All she can remember is the mention of something about light and darkness, and that the person leading the force, was a woman."
"Dean, how nice of you to join the conversation," Crowley said in a menacing tone. "How is the Mark treating you now that you're back to being mortal? Have we been feeling a wee bit angry as of late?"
Phoebe reached out to Dean's emotions, and was taken aback upon finding that that wall she usually encountered surrounding them, was drawn back, allowing her in. She could feel the anger emanating from him, his blood practically boiling with frustration, yet his body language was nonchalant and calm. The amount of control he was exerting in that moment was astonishing, and Phoebe gave him credit for it.
Dean rolled his eyes, "Just tell us what you know, Crowley. Who hates you enough, and can incite enough loyalty in your band of black-eyed bitches, to turn some of them on you? Why do they need me and Chris, pure light and pure darkness? Think."
It was quiet in the room for a moment, and then Paige's velvety voice cut through the silence, "Can I offer a suggestion, please?"
Piper turned to her littlest sister with a sigh, "What is it Paige?"
"Look, I remembered something that I saw painted on Dean's car when the demons were trashing it. It was done in bright red paint, but I remember thinking that it looked strangely familiar, and almost Wiccan. So I asked Sam to get me the Book of Shadows, and lo and behold," Paige grabbed the thick book off of the counter and flipped through the pages, stopping about a quarter of the way in, and dramatically pointing at the page, "I found the symbols."
Phoebe and Piper both surrounded the book that had become their lifeline over the last five years, and were taken aback by what they saw. It was a very realistic drawing of a very beautiful, redheaded witch.
"Who is it?" Sam asked, peeking over the girls' shoulders.
"The symbols are Gaelic, and representative of a coven. Apparently a coven of one. Her name is Rowena," Phoebe said. "She's a witch, a very old, very powerful one."
"Is she a good witch?" Dean asked, making Phoebe smile.
"No, I don't think so. Apparently she was scorned by the Grand Coven, so she began to practice magic on her own in hopes of exacting her revenge, and went kind of crazy after a spell of hers went on the fritz."
"Grand Coven?" Sam asked.
Phoebe snorted, "They're this group of super old witches that think they're all powerful, and the greatest thing since sliced bread. We were actually propositioned by them to join the coven, but they practice dark magic. They were less than happy to be denied by the Charmed Ones."
"Have you heard of this witch, Crowley?" Castiel asked.
Phoebe looked up at the demon, and understood why Castiel had asked that question. Crowley's face had gone white as a sheet, and he looked as though he had seen a ghost. The way Sam and Dean stepped forward, and began to frantically ask questions, Phoebe could tell that the King of Hell was, normally, not this easily startled.
"Alright, what do you know?" Dean said, his voice rising as he took on the role of the bad cop.
Crowley didn't reply.
Sam, ever the good cop, tried to get Crowley to sympathize with their cause. "This isn't just about us, Crowley. This reflects your rule in hell. Someone is taking from your ranks, and weakening your kingdom. If you know something, tell us."
"Do you know her?" Dean yelled.
"Yes," Crowley replied, the spark back in his eyes now. "But, I am not going to tell you who she is, unless you promise that afterward you'll let me out of this devil's trap."
"You have our word," Dean said quickly, and even Phoebe could tell that the promise wasn't genuine.
"Pardon me, squirrel, if I don't take your promises to heart, but you and your brother have gone back on your word one too many times. I'd rather hear a promise from one of your goodly witches. They seem… passionate about their ideals."
"If you give us the information we want, we will let you go. You have my word," Piper replied.
Seeming satisfied, Crowley heaved a sigh, "Rowena is all of the things your book says. She's a witch scorned, and obsessed with redemption. She's conniving, smart, good at her craft, and ever the madwoman. But, above all that, the woman is my damned mother. That's how I know her. She raised me, or she tried, but she was always consumed by her revenge. It's safe to say we don't have much of a mother/son bond."
Dean blinked, unsure how to react, "Your mother is after us?"
"So it seems," Crowley said, clearly uncomfortable with the sharing of this personal information.
"Why?" Piper asked.
"Excuse me?"
"Why? Why is she after us? My son, Dean, what are they to her? Why is she poaching your demons? What is her endgame?"
"That's a lot of questions, darling. None of which I know the answer to."
"It has to have something to do with you, doesn't it?" Phoebe said. "It doesn't make sense for her to steal from your ranks of demons if she doesn't want to hurt you in some way."
"Phoebe's right," Sam agreed. "Does she know that you're the King of Hell?"
"Of course she knows! Don't you think I made a point to tell her about it, to prove to her that I didn't need her to become someone?" Crowley said, his voice rising defensively.
Dean snorted, "Been at that human blood again, your highness? You're acting a little… emotional."
Crowley scowled, but didn't reply.
"So," Sam continued, "If she knows about your status in hell, what if she's trying to take over? What if she's using your demons against you, to dethrone you, and eventually use the power of hell to achieve whatever kind of revenge she wants to enact on this Grand Coven?"
"That's not a horrible theory, Sammy… What do you have to say, your worship?" Dean taunted.
Crowley rolled his eyes, "If you think I didn't take extra precautions to secure my throne after Abaddon, you're delusional. To get it, she would have to kill me, and not to gloat, but these days I am nearly impossible to kill. There is no way she could take my throne or my life from me. Not without some severely dark, very hard to come by, magic."
"Isn't that what she specializes in?" Paige asked.
"What's to say that isn't why she needs Chris and me?" Dean asked. "All of the research Sam and I have done say that the absolute opposites of dark and light hold great power in magical contexts. When their powers are harnessed and used together, they are able to overcome nearly anything, even killing big, bad Kings of Hell."
"My question is, why Chris?" Sam said. "Wyatt seems like the obvious choice. He's twice blessed, and has the more advanced powers. Why aren't the demons after him?"
Piper sighed, "It could be because Wyatt has been wavering on the cusp of good and evil for most of his little life. When Chris came back from the future, it was because future Wyatt had turned to the dark side, and he took it upon himself to fix what had made his brother evil. There has always been a part of Wyatt that evil appeals to, and I don't think that is true for Chris. If she's looking for purity, he would be the better choice."
Sam nodded, and turned to Crowley, "Does any of this seem plausible to you?"
"With that heinous woman, anything is possible."
"What can we do to stop her?"
"Don't you think if I knew I would have done something about it by now?"
"Hang on," Paige said, looking back in the Book of Shadows. "There is actually a vanquishing potion here, but it looks pretty weak. Maybe we can give it a little bit of kick? What do you think?"
Phoebe nodded, when she saw the ingredients, "It's definitely doable, though I'm not sure how I feel about killing one of our own kind. Warlocks and demons are one thing, but a sister-witch?"
"She's evil, Phoebe, and she's after my baby boy. I have no qualms," Piper said matter of factly.
"After the stunt she pulled with the hellhounds, I can't say I do either, Phoebs," Paige agreed.
Phoebe nodded, "I suppose. Boys, what are your thoughts?"
Sam chimed in first, "I think it's the first break we've had in a while, and we need to run with it. Dean?"
Dean didn't say anything for a few seconds, "I think you need to go after this Rowena chick, but I think you need to go without me."
"What? You're our best fighter, Dean. Not to mention you're the only other person that knows the exorcism ritual. I'm going to need you in this."
"No," Phoebe countered, understanding why Dean had decided this. "He's right. If Rowena wants him, we can't bring him along. That would be like giving him up. We can learn the ritual. It's not like we're strangers to repeating incantations over and over."
Sam looked pained, and when Phoebe reached out to his feelings she felt apprehension and discomfort. She quickly realized that the real reason Sam wanted Dean there, was because he didn't feel secure fighting without him. Regardless, he nodded silently, and didn't push the subject further.
"Castiel," Piper said, "I'm interested in your opinion on this."
"I do not have much of one, to be completely honest. I have never met Rowena, or dealt with this Grand Coven, so I cannot tell you much about that. But, I do know Crowley, and if he is willing to give up information so easily, he must really dislike this woman."
Piper nodded, "Alright, I think it's time to plan an offensive." She looked to Crowley, and then turned to Sam, "How do we get rid of the King?"
Sam smiled, "Smudge the paint."
"Ah. That paint is washable, correct?"
Sam looked at his feet, and Phoebe couldn't help but burst out laughing at her sister's distraught facial expression.
"Aw Piper, it's no big deal. We'll cover it up with the rug again, and no one will ever know," Phoebe said through her laughter.
"Sorry," Sam said. "Usually we're in an abandoned house, or a place no one goes. Clean up isn't exactly our strong suit, and washable paint is more expensive…"
"Uh huh."
Piper walked over to Crowley, "Thank you for your help."
"For you, darling, anything," he replied suggestively.
"Do you mean that?"
He spoke seriously this time, "If it will help secure my throne while ridding me of the knowledge that my mother is skulking around somewhere on this planet, then yes, I mean it."
"Do you have something of hers? Something that would contain some DNA or magical energy belonging to her? My sisters and I will need something to scry for her with."
"You let me out of here, love, and I'll see what I can do."
Piper looked back at Dean, who nodded in affirmation. Slowly, the witch dragged her brown, knee-high boot across the still wet, red paint. As it smeared, Crowley took a few steps forward, making sure he was free to go.
"Dean, I'll be in touch," he said cryptically before winking once at Piper, and disappearing into thin air, exactly the way he had come. Phoebe wasn't sure why, but she felt slightly more at ease now that they had a real plan. She didn't feel so defenseless in the face of these demons, and she had the Winchesters to thank for that. Now, it was time to get to work.
"Well," she said, yawning as she did, "I suppose I'd better get to work on that vanquishing potion?"
"I'll help you," Dean said, "Also, I've been meaning to tell you, if you're going to be fighting demons, you should all probably think about getting anti-possession tattoos." Dean pulled the neck of his t-shirt down slightly, revealing a black, pentagram tattoo on his chest. "It's a good precaution."
Piper put a hand up, stopping the general commotion. "Why don't we take the night?"
"What do you mean?"
"I'd like a night to spend with my sons, and my husband, before things start to get too insane once again. I think we all deserve that much. I'm going to go start dinner, and call Leo. You all do what you feel like you need to do before the fight begins. I'll call you when the food is ready."
Phoebe stared at her hands in her lap, and felt for Piper's emotions. As always, her older sister was worried. That never went away. In fact, Phoebe longed for the day that she could probe her sister's feelings and that wasn't the case, because honestly she worried too much. She felt too responsible for so much that she couldn't control.
It must be an older sibling thing, Phoebe thought, looking over at Dean. When she did, he turned too, and made eye contact. The corners of his mouth turned up in a small smile, and Phoebe looked away, doing what she could to stop herself from blushing. She felt extremely self-conscious when he looked at her, like she needed to fix herself, or be something for him, or even worse, mean something to him, and she didn't like that feeling. Deep down, she didn't want to impress him, or rather, she didn't want to want to impress him. The more she thought about it, the more she became confused, and the more she didn't want to think about it anymore.
Grabbing the Book of Shadows, she stood, not sure where she was going, but decided that anywhere was better than sitting in the silence of the living room. Before she could make it to the stairs, Paige said, "So I guess since Cas and Leila are both awake now, we should discuss sleeping arrangements. This house is getting a little full."
"Cas, will you even have to sleep?" Dean asked.
"I am not sure. It might be wise, but since I probably still need less than the average person, I will sleep down here on the couch. I will leave real beds to those who truly need them."
"Leila can stay with me," Phoebe offered, eyeing Sam's hand in Paige's. "I'm sure Piper will want to orb 'up there' for the night, to stay with Leo and the boys, so as far as I know, you're welcome to her bed, Dean. Sam, Paige, I think we all know where you two will be staying. Enjoy it," she finished with a wink, and headed up the stairs.
More than anything, Phoebe needed time to think. All of this was happening so fast, and she had way too many feelings about it. The Winchesters had been with them a little under five days, and one of them was already staying in her sister's room… with her sister. Very quickly, these boys, and their angel companion, were becoming staples in their home, and it could either be an extremely wonderful decision, or a very bad one to let that happen.
She put the Book of Shadows back on the podium that stood in the middle of the room, and started idly leafing through it, an act that had become almost calming throughout her years of monster fighting. There was so much knowledge in the book, so much history, that comfort could be found in its pages. Always knowing that it was here to help, was a constant in her life, one of the only constants in her life for a very long time, besides her sisters of course. They had been through so much, from gaining their powers to losing Prue, it was lucky they were still sane. For as long as she could remember they had been begging for normal lives, and here come these two, floppy haired hunters, men who know about their world, and have a deep love of family. Men who, for all intents and purposes, could give someone like her and her sisters, normal, family-oriented lives, but still allow them to go on being Charmed Ones without having to explain themselves all of the time.
"Hey," someone interrupted Phoebe's thoughts, making her jump. She turned to meet the ever-piercing, green eyes she had just been ruminating on.
"Dean, hi," she replied, slamming the Book of Shadows shut again, and then leaning so that all of her weight was on it. "Can I do something for you?"
Dean shook his head, obviously sensing some animosity in her voice. "Did you want to be alone? I can go."
Phoebe sighed, "I don't know what I want, and I think that's half the problem."
"You're going to have to be more specific. You don't know what you want regarding the situation with the demons, as a witch, regarding life in general…" Dean paused, and Phoebe knew what would come out of his mouth next. "You don't know what to do with the ruggedly handsome hunter that just drove his stunning vintage muscle car into your life? Is it one of those things?"
Phoebe let out a snort, "One, or all of those things, yes."
"This is all going to turn out alright you know."
"Like you could possibly know that," Phoebe snapped. "It's just one battle after another in an endless war. Even if I wanted to make decisions about the way my life was heading, would it matter? Would I even live long enough to see them be fulfilled?"
Dean nodded, taking a few steps toward her, "I understand. You know, once upon a time I only had a year to live."
"What are you talking about? Were you sick?"
"No, I made a deal with a crossroads demon. My soul for Sam's."
"Of course you did."
Dean smiled, "All I'm saying is, I know what it's like to have a ticking clock attached to my life. I never lived more than I did in that year. I never appreciated everything, my brother, our friends, our lifestyle, more than I did when I knew how long I had left to appreciate them. The way I see it, if you think your days in this life are numbered, you should be living more, not less."
In Dean's eyes, Phoebe saw sincerity. She didn't have to use her powers to understand that the hunter meant what he said, but she didn't know how to respond.
"I'll leave you alone now, but uh… I'm here if you need, you know, anything."
As Dean left the room Phoebe turned back to the Book of Shadows, her life's constant, her protector, and knew she couldn't hide behind it forever. There were things that she was going to have to take into her own hands. She knew Piper wanted them to wait to start the offensive on Rowena until tomorrow, but she desperately needed something to keep her mind and her hands busy.
Before she knew it she had bottled more potions than she could count, and her eyelids had become heavy with exhaustion. The house was quiet. Phoebe had no clue what time it was, but as she descended the stairs from the attic, she noted that all the lights were out. All of them, but one.
Phoebe rounded the corner to Piper's room and was unsurprised to see Dean sitting on her sister's bed with his legs crossed neatly in front of him, wide awake. He was surrounded by a number of very large, old books, but the one he was reading was smaller and leather-bound. He was so enthralled with his work that he didn't look up until Phoebe cleared her throat.
"Hey," he said, looking surprised. "You're up late."
"I could say the same about you," Phoebe countered, entering the room and moving a few books so she could sit down next to him. "What are you working on?
"Uh, nothing. Nothing important," Dean said, closing up a few of the books. "It's just a… uh… a hobby of mine."
"Uh huh, you know I can tell when you're lying."
"Oh really? Did you just develop the power of lie detection?"
"No, but feelings of apprehension or nervousness when questioned usually means you're hiding something. I'm not sure why, but I'm very attuned to your emotions, which is how I know that you're also kind of frustrated... Is there anything I can do to help?"
Dean sighed, "No, I don't think so. I was originally looking for extra information on Rowena, which led me to information on the Grand Coven, and its founding members, which led me to some information that I'm not sure what to do with. Honestly it's probably nothing. Just more empty information that leads nowhere."
"What's that?" Phoebe eyed the book Dean had been so glued to just a moment ago.
"Uh, it was my Dad's. It's a journal of all of his hunting experiences. It's pretty straight forward, you know, what kind of monster he found, what its strengths and weaknesses were, and how he eventually put it down. Sam and I gained a lot of our hunting skills from reading this book…" he trailed off, seemingly lost in his thoughts.
"Where is that frustration coming from?" Phoebe asked, feeling it again.
"Mostly it comes from the fact that my father taught me everything I know about hunting, and it wasn't even half of what I actually needed to know. There was so much he never warned us about, and we're paying for it now. I want to remember all the good things about him, you know. Lord knows Sam doesn't. They never got along. But, it's so hard to remember the good things when there is so much crap Sam and I could've avoided if he had just been honest with us."
"I'm sorry. I get mad at my mother sometimes too, and my grandmother. They bound all three of our powers when we were infants, and they never told us what we were. They didn't give us our own choice, and they definitely didn't prepare us for the life we live now."
"I'm sorry too," Dean said. "I didn't know any of that."
"Regardless of how close we are all becoming, there is still a lot we don't know about each other. The connection is there, our families seem to have been destined to find one another. It's the lack of both background information and trust that worries me."
"Do you trust me?" Dean asked suddenly.
Phoebe was unsure how to answer, and knew that she needed to pick her next words carefully. "I… I think I do. I know I shouldn't, not after…"
"Cole?"
That name on Dean's lips made Phoebe go pale, "What?"
"It's just a name I've noticed everyone throwing around without any kind of explanation. Is he… the one you couldn't save?"
"Cole is my ex-husband. My ex-demon-husband."
"You married a demon."
"In my defense, he was human when I married him. He got his powers back afterward."
"But, you knew he had been a demon beforehand?"
Phoebe nodded, "I loved him anyway. He fought his dark side, and tried so hard to be all that he could for me, but I couldn't save him from himself. Which is why trusting you to be any different is almost impossible. You are exactly like him. You're brooding and angry, and tortured. And just like I wanted to save Cole, I want to save you. I want to prove to you that you are more than that Mark on your arm, that you can overcome the evil. Which is idiotic of me. He couldn't do it, so why should you be able to? But, for some reason, some stupid, strange reason, I still believe in you."
"That's… I don't even know what to say to that. I guess it's been a while since anyone's really believed in me or at least a while since anyone has admitted it outright. It honestly feels like Sam and I have been doomed for a while, destined to fail. Finding you and your sisters… As hard as it was to deal with at first, I'm glad it happened. It's nice to have people that are honest with us, and who seem to genuinely care about us and whether or not we win this fight. That doesn't happen often in our line of work."
Before she could change her mind, Phoebe took Dean's hand and edged closer to him. There was only a few inches between her face and his. She could smell alcohol on his breath and knew that he had been drinking a lot lately, to stifle the effects of the Mark. She felt his pain, his yearning, and she wanted to help him forget about it, if only for a little while.
"What are you doing, Phoebe?" he asked, turning his head away from her just slightly.
"Well, it's the last night before the war begins… I'm going to take your advice and live more," she replied, placing her hand on his cheek, and turning his head toward hers. Once their lips met, it was as if a frenzy overtook them. Phoebe found herself sitting in his lap, breathing him in like oxygen. And in that moment, wrapped in his embrace, she felt his emotions course through her, mixing with her own. She felt want, lust, passion, and one thing she would never have expected to feel from either one of them: security.
Light streamed through Phoebe's pink curtain's the next morning, waking Leila from her sleep. Turning over she quickly realized that Phoebe had never come in the night before. She imagined for a moment, all of the scenarios the witch could have gotten herself into, but then figured that wasn't really her business. Getting out of bed she felt her stomach growl, and wondered if Piper was up making breakfast like she had been for the last week or so. When she entered the kitchen, she was surprised to find it empty. Usually by this time the kitchen was full of people. Sam would be busy keeping Wyatt and Chris occupied while their mother cooked. Dean would be poring over some old book, looking for answers to many of the unanswerable questions they had been encountering. Paige, Leila's saving grace, and wonderful whitelighter, would be there calming all her fears and making her laugh, something Leila wasn't sure she could do without her friend's patience and sincerity. There was always a hubbub going on early in the morning, and the fact that there wasn't one going on today made it very clear to Leila that the families were getting ready for a fight.
As she started up the coffee maker, Leila began to get used to the silence. In fact, after everything that had happened, and everything she had learned over the past few days, the quiet was a welcome change. In the sunroom she sipped the hot liquid and watched the sun stream in through the stained glass windows, feeling almost at peace for the first time since arriving in the Halliwell's home. It wasn't as if the sisters hadn't been welcoming. They had been more than that, answering her every question, being brazenly honest even though they had no cause to trust her. And the Winchester brothers had been good to her too, she thought, including Castiel in that mix. Dean was distant but she knew the darkness he was wrestling with, and that it wasn't easy for him. Sam was sweet, and made her feel safer than anyone else ever had. He was kind, easy to trust, but strong and capable. And Cas…
Leila's thoughts trailed off as she heard a loud fit of coughing coming from the living room, the first sign of life she had heard all morning. Walking into the living room she nearly dropped her coffee as she took in the scene before her. Quickly, she placed it down on an end table as gingerly as she could, and doing her best to control her shaking hands, ran over to Castiel. She had forgotten that he had been spending the night on the couch, though it was clear to her now, that he hadn't gotten much rest.
He was slumped over on the couch, sweating profusely, his trench coat and tie in a pile on the floor. There was a bucket lying near, and Leila wondered for a moment where he had gotten it, but quickly pushed that thought from her mind, distracted by the fact that it was filled halfway with blood and vomit. There was also blood staining the front of the angel's white dress shirt, and Leila watched as he began to cough up more of it, too weak to even attempt leaning over the pail. She grabbed it hoping that she could help him hold on to at least some of his dignity. She touched his forehead and then immediately pulled back, he was burning up to a degree she didn't think was possible. Touching him was like placing her hand on a burning stove.
"Castiel," she said, wondering if he could even hear her. "Have you been like this all night? Cas?"
"Unfortunately, yes," he said between coughs. As the fit subsided he sat back, breathing heavily.
"Let me get you some water, okay? I'll be right back, don't move."
Leila hurried to the kitchen, unsure of exactly what to do, but then set herself to work, deciding that she would just have to figure something out. She was not about to let an angel die on her watch. Re-entering the living room she stripped Cas of his bloody shirt, doing her best not to touch his flaming skin. When she was through she did her best to lay him back on the couch, and helped him drink the glass of water she had gotten from the kitchen.
"Okay, Cas, talk to me. What can I do?"
"There's nothing to do, I'm afraid. I am dying. Without my own grace, there is little hope for my survival."
He said it as if it were a fact, like he had already accepted the end of his own life. Leila couldn't stand it, "Well, we'll find your grace then. I'll help you find it. But, first you have to tell me what might help slow these symptoms."
"Leila, you are kind to offer, but it is too late now. I am too weak."
"Do you think it would help to try and get your temperature down?"
Castiel sighed, "Perhaps. I suppose I might also try asking Leo to heal me. It'll be a bit like putting a Band-Aid on a broken limb, but it might help for a little while."
Leila nodded and got back to work, grabbing every ice pack Piper had in the freezer, wetting every rag she could find, and even washing out Cas's bucket so she could fill it with icy water. Using all the strength she had in her body, she sat him up and placed his feet in the container, and then covered his bare torso with cold packs and rags. Much to her surprise he didn't complain once.
Leila felt the sharp gaze of Castiel's blue eyes resting on her face as she took the last rag, and very gingerly began to wash his face, wiping his dark hair back from his sticky forehead. "How's that?" she asked.
"The cold feels… very good. Whether or not it will help me remains to be seen."
"Will you be okay for a sec? I'm going to go get one of the sisters to call Leo."
"I believe I will be okay," he replied, letting his head lean back, and his eyes shut.
"No coughing while I'm gone."
"I will do my best, though if it happens I am not sure I will be able to help it."
Leila let out a quiet laugh at Cas's seriousness, and then bounded up the stairs, first checking the attic to see if Phoebe had fallen asleep while working the night before. But, the highest floor of the manor was deserted, though it seemed Phoebe had done some work, as the table in the middle of the room was filled with potions. Unsure of the middle-sister's whereabouts, Leila found herself knocking on Paige's door instead, somewhat relieved. Phoebe was nice enough, but Leila definitely felt more confident talking with her whitelighter.
There was some shuffling on the other side of the door, but instead of Paige's small figure appearing as the door opened, Leila was greeted by the tall, muscular, and shirtless frame of Sam Winchester. "Leila, hey," he said, wiping exhaustion from his eyes. "Is everything okay?"
"Not exactly," Leila replied, slightly flustered, but doing her best to keep her composure as a medical professional by getting to the point. "I need Paige to call Leo down here. It's Cas."
Sam clenched his jaw tightly, and turned to wake Paige.
"I'll be downstairs, I don't want to leave him alone for too long," Leila called, already down the hall. Back in the living room, Cas was still in the same position he was when she had left, his face serene.
"Still okay?" Leila asked.
Castiel raised his head up lazily, "I think it might be helping with the fever."
"That's good! I have Paige calling for Leo right now."
"Thank you, Leila," the angel said, offering her his hand, though he couldn't pick it up off of the sofa. Carefully she took it, and was happy to feel that Cas's temperature had gone down enough that holding his hand was possible.
"I am very sorry," he spoke again, "For the way I treated you yesterday. I was much sicker than I thought, and you were right. I get so caught up in helping the brothers sometimes…"
"Shhh… It's okay, Cas. You care about them, it's understandable."
"But I should have listened."
"Yes, you should have," she agreed. "But, that's in the past. All we can do now is focus on getting you better today. We need to find your grace."
"It will be difficult to find, and I don't know how long I can really go on. Even if Leo heals me, I do not think I will be able to fight."
On cue, Leo orbed into the room with Chris in his arms, and Piper and Wyatt at his side. At the same time, Paige and Sam came bounding down the stairs, now fully clothed with looks of concern on both of their faces. Chris, taking in the sight of his old friend, squirmed in his father's arms until Leo put him down. Running over to Sam, he put his arms above his head, requesting to be picked up.
"Hey buddy," Sam said. "How's it going?"
Much to all of their surprise, Chris replied, saying, "I missed you, Sammy."
Sam smiled, "I missed you too, Chris."
Leila turned to Leo, reminding herself that they were back to help Cas, "Can you help him?"
"What's wrong with him?" Piper asked. "What happened?"
"I found him this morning covered in blood. I think he's been coughing it up all night. Not to mention he had a fever hotter than I have ever witnessed. That's what the rags are for."
Piper nodded, sending Wyatt over to his aunt, "Okay Leo, honey you do what you can for him. Leila, let's, you and I, re-wet some these wash cloths. We should try to keep him cold."
Leila nodded, and followed Piper into the kitchen. By the time they had covered Cas up once again, Leo had been working for a good ten minutes. His hands glowed gold as they moved from place to place on Castiel's body, and Leo's brow furrowed with concentration. When the energy finally stopped flowing, and Leo opened his eyes, he didn't look hopeful.
"Well?" was all Leila could think to ask.
"I'll let him tell you."
Cas opened his eyes as well, "He helped. It was not in vain, although what he could do was not much, and it is extremely temporary."
"The deterioration of his body is just happening too quickly," Leo explained. "He needs a permanent fix, and soon."
Leila nodded, "I'm going to take him to find his grace. That's the only thing that can save him now."
"The hell you are," a deep voice interrupted. Leila whirled around to see Dean descending the stairs behind a tired-looking Phoebe. "There is no way a little thing like you is taking him to find his grace. You'll never survive it."
"Good morning, Dean, Phoebe," Paige said, seeming very amused. "Did you two sleep well?"
Phoebe and Dean both ignored the comment.
"What makes you think you can help him? You're just a girl," Dean told her. "To find his grace you'll have to go up against one of the most dangerous angels of all time, capture him, and then make him tell you where it is. Does that sound easy to you?"
Leila scowled, "I may be just a girl, but I have been through more than most humans this week. I'm a part of this now, and I want to help if I can."
"Well you can't."
"Dean," Cas interrupted, "She already has. If she hadn't found me this morning I might have been beyond help."
"You should give her a chance, Dean," Paige agreed. "She's right, she became a part of this when one of those black-eyed freaks stole her free will. You of all people should know what it's like to be thrust into something that seems completely and totally beyond your control. It makes you want to do whatever you can to regain even a shred of your own independence. She needs to do something to help."
"Yeah, that's exactly what we need, to drag another person into this mess. My mess. No, Paige, she is not helping. If anything she should be going home with no recollection of what happened to her while she was here."
Leila's blood boiled at his words, and she could feel the defiance ready to spew out of her. "Well, fortunately Dean, what I do is not up to you. I am an adult, and the more I hang around here watching demons be summoned, and spells cast, the more I come to the conclusion that there are things in this world I need to learn to protect myself from."
"So, what? You want to become a hunter now?" Dean snorted, as if it was the most ludicrous thing he had ever heard.
"As a matter of fact, yes. I think I do. And what better place to start than by going after a rogue angel?"
Dean's eyes bugged out of his head, and he turned to Sam, "Uh, bro you want to help me out here?"
Sam sighed, "Leila, the life of a hunter isn't a life I would choose for anyone. It's lonely and dangerous, and you have a life of your own that you could go back to. But if you have your heart set on it, I'm not going to stop you. We have runed handcuffs and angel blades in the trunk of the Impala, and you're welcome to them, although this might be a little much for your first case. You don't really know anything about fighting, or lore."
"I can fill her in on the lore," Cas offered. "When it comes time to make a deal with Metatron I will do that, also."
"I'll go with them too," Leo interjected. "I know a little about fighting and a lot about angels. Not to mention it might be a little easier on Cas if we orb from place to place. That way he doesn't have to exhaust himself while walking. You can call me if you need me."
"How are you going to find him?" Dean asked, still surly.
"Well, we could scry for him," Paige offered. "Do you guys have anything that belongs to him? Something personal."
"There is a book back at the bunker that he gave me," Castiel said.
"We'll orb back and get it right now," Sam said, grabbing Paige's hand. "Can we take Chris?"
Piper nodded, "Take Wyatt too, just there and back. No detours."
Paige smirked, "Never!" And then the four of them shimmered out of the room.
Dean watched with a sour look on his face. He turned to Leila, "You don't know what you're doing. You're turning down a path that you can't come back from. Once you get involved, once you see the monsters, you can never un-see them. You have to understand that the life of a hunter is short, lonely, and unforgiving. Take it from someone who knows, and don't do this to yourself, please."
Leila could see that he was being incredibly sincere, that he knew exactly what he was saying. That he had lived those words. For a moment, she contemplated taking it all back, and going home. She imagined herself back at school, training to be a nurse, living a normal life. But, then she flashed back, to a time when she was seeing through her own eyes, but doing the most unspeakable things, to a time when she had no control over herself, and she hardened her resolve.
"I'm sorry, Dean, and I hope you'll come to terms with it, because I think you might have a lot to teach me. I hope someday you'll realize why this is just something I have to do."
A few minutes later, Sam and Paige returned, and as the sisters scryed for Metatron, the three of them got geared up and ready to go. Taking one last look around at the faces she had become so accustomed to in the last few days, she grabbed Leo's hand, and then Castiel's. As she felt herself dematerialize she knew that she had made the right decision, and that, in a way, she was orbing right into a brand new life.
Thank you so much for reading! I know there were a few reviewers that were confused about my O/C's purpose in the story. She is destined for great things I promise, and I'm really having a great time writing her character. Rowena... that's a weird one, I know. But, I really hated her character development on the show, and wanted to do something more infinitely baddass with her. So stay tuned for that!
As always, PLEASE REVIEW. I love to hear what you all are thinking. It really helps me think through what I am writing, and keeps the writer's block at bay!
XOXO AryaUnderfoot