"Tell me what else it could have been-?!"
"All I know is I was not groped by an angel."
CJ scrubbed resolutely at the tin she had used to make the casserole they'd had for lunch. Currently, a pie was in the oven, as well as a tray of cookies.
She'd had to smack Dean's hands repeatedly away from both mixtures throughout the entire cooking process. They'd been home for three days now, and Dean had finally caved in Sam's pestering about where they had gone. Hence the argument that was now blowing up in the kitchen. Sam had tried, multiple times, in demanding that CJ either confirm or deny the fact that Castiel was an angel, but her expression remained blank, and she kept silent. She hadn't spoken at all since that night, other than quietly asking Bobby what he would like to eat for each meal, or if he'd needed a refill with his beer.
She couldn't even look at the boys unless they were standing directly in front of her. She was sick to her stomach, wanting nothing more than for this all to have been one long, elaborate dream..
That she'd wake up with drool on her face, ruining her laptop while she lied sprawled on her bed, effectively late for her krav maga class, or even her morning lecture, if she'd slept long enough.
"Okay Dean, why do you think this "Castiel" would lie about it?" Sam demanded.
No, she wasn't waking up from this.. And that was was scared her more.
"Maybe it's some kind of demon, huh-? Demons lie-!" Dean was adamant about this, and he didn't look ready to back down anytime soon.
She set the now cleaned tin in the drying rack, wiping her hand on the dish towel as she ignored the men not five feet away from her as they argued heatedly. She slowly untied her apron and glanced at the timer. There was still a few minutes before it would be time to pull out the cookies, and another two for the pie. Turned to open the fridge, she was once again struck with the sound of their argument.
Oh how I wish this would end.. But that would have been mercy, wouldn't it?
"A demon who's immune to salt rounds-? And devils traps-? And Ruby's knife-?!" Sam threw up his hands in exasperation, "Dean, Lilith is scared of that thing-!"
"Don't you think that if angels were real, some hunter, somewhere.. Would have seen one..?" his voice raised a pitch in his frustration, ".. at some point, ever-?!" CJ plucked two beers from the fridge before closing it with her hip, darting past the duo in silence; she did not want to be dragged into this conversation again .
"Yeah.." Sam gave a nod, "You just did, Dean.."
Dean rolled his neck pointedly, running his hands quickly through his hair in what almost resemble anxiety, "I'm trying to come up with a theory here, okay? Work with me-! CJ-!"
Said woman flinched as she held the beer out to the hunter crouched over a large Christian text, having lifted his eyes at the offering and given her an expression that showed both his exasperation at her sudden Paula-Deen behavior, as well as slight sympathy for the boys constant bickering. "Tell Sam that angels don't exist-!"
"Smite me, Winchester," she barked, the abrupt, loud snap, causing the boys to jolt. It was the first time she'd talked to them in days and the expression she gave them was nearly feral, "Leave me out of it . I am not getting dragged between the two of you. I will not take sides. If one or both of you is in danger, then I will step in, but otherwise- ignore me-!"
They flicked their eyes away from her silultaniously, eyes lowering in various levels of guilt, Dean more so than Sam. Letting out a heavy sigh, the taller of the two returned to their conversation, "Dean, we have a theory."
"Yeah, one with a little less fairy-dust on it, please," Dean requested petulantly, running his hands over his face roughly. He hadn't been getting much sleep.
"Okay look," Sam insisted again, his hands were still moving with her words, CJ almost wanted to call him desperate, "I'm not saying we know for sure, I'm just saying that I think-"
"Okay-, okay-" Dean cut him off quickly, one hand moving toward his brother in an effort to stop him in his tracks, the other grounding himself by gripping his hip. "That's the point. We don't know for sure. So I'm not going to believe that this thing is a freakin' angel of the Lord because it says so-!"
CJ saw the exact moment Bobby stepped in, the near exact moment after she had flinched at Dean's final outburst.
"You two chuckleheads want to keep arguing religion? Or you wanna come take a look at this?"
CJ perched on the edge of his desk, glancing down to the page he had opened, tracing the detailed image with her hazel eyes.
"I got stacks of lore, Biblical.. Pre-Biblical," Bobby began once the boys had finally come inside the room, glancing hesitantly at the woman beside him before coming closer, "..some of it's in damn cuneiform.." "I can read that," the woman piped up, gaining the room's immediate attention, although her eyes stayed locked on the strange symbols, "I can read most everything short of the word of God, I'm guessing.. And those tablets are a literal headache I don't even want to attempt.."
"What languages do you know-?" Sam asked quietly, his mouth pressing into a tight line when she reached out her finger to trace almost lovingly along the border of the drawing. "I know two, I guess, English and I'm calling it Celestial. Celestial is literally every language combined, so any other language is like tuning into radio after a few seconds.."
"Couldn't have told me that earlier?" Bobby scoffed, raising an eyebrow when she gave him a sheepish smile, "...Have I mentioned that I hate screwing with the events surrounding those two?" The boys shared a brief look, and Bobby shook his head with a sigh, turning the book in his hands around with a firm tap, "It all says an angel can snatch a soul from the pit."
"What else?" Dean demanded.
"What else, what?" Bobby scoffed.
"What else could do it?" Dean repeated shortly, he rubbed at the print on his arm subconsciously, the muscles in his back noticeably untightening when he felt a grip settle against the back of his neck and give a smooth, pressed knead.
"Airlift your ass out of the hotbox?" Bobby met his eye, and if he could see that CJ was lifting an arm awkwardly to the now slowly relaxing Winchester's shoulder blades, he didn't say anything. "As far as I can tell, nothing."
Bobby sat back in his chair, reaching for his new beer and popping the seal for a sip. Dean let out a slow, deep breath, feeling the hand fall away from his back as Sam started to speak, his left hand twitching toward the woman, but remaining stubbornly at his side.
"Dean this is good news," Sam insisted, much more quiet than their previous argument had been.
"How?"
"Because for once," Sam seemed elated now, his eyes lighting up in excitement and awe as he finally felt the justification to his idea, "this isn't just another round of demon crap. I mean- maybe you were saved by one of the good guys-"
"I'm gonna stop you there," CJs voice cut him off sharply, and when he shot his eyes to her, her palm was raised out toward him sternly, eyes narrowed when she'd gotten their attention again, "First of all, that is a dangerous line of thinking, so stop it now. There is no such thing as a good or bad guy. Only morals drawn by the individual wrought by their experience in life. So, cliff notes? Black and white doesn't exist, the world is a thousand shades of grey, and angels are, in a large majority douchebags, with litteral holier-than-thou attitudes and disregard for human existence."
"So they are real?" Sam breathed.
"Did you not just hear what I-" CJ cut herself off when the timer dinged, and she shot Sam an expression that was unreadable, before she turned on her heal and stopped off in silence.
"Okay," Dean had trailed his eyes after the female walking away, but when he'd notice Sam ding the same, he'd brought himself forcefully back to the present, "Say it's true. Say there are.. angels. Then what, there's a God ?"
"You meet him , too-!"
The shout brought their attention to the woman in the kitchen, the female currently hunched over the tray she held of round, steaming cookies, the scent of chocolate drifting through the room as she stood up, "Mid Twenty-sixteen, if I'm not mistaken.."
"We.. we meet God ..?" Sam repeated breathlessly.
"The Father of all and world's biggest coward?" the sarcasm was thick as she perked up, feigning curiosity, "Why wouldn't you-? Shit seems to hit the fan whenever good starts going for you."
"Well aren't you a bucket of sunshine, today?" Dean huffed, giving her a look of absolute doneness.
"The pie's almost done, Cowboy."
Those five words had something warm churning around him again, and he shook it off with a physical shudder and a shake of his head. "I.. I don't know, guys.."
"I- I know you're not all choir boy about this stuff," Sam tried to shake himself back into the present, trying as hard as he could to get his brother on board with the situation. "But this is becoming less and less about faith, and more and more about proof."
"Proof?"
"Yes."
"Proof that there's a God out there that actually gives a crap about me, personally?"
"I'm not stepping into that shit," CJ muttered, setting the piece of pie she'd cut out directly on the table in front of Dean, the fork sitting precariously on the edge of the plate, and setting another piece down for Bobby, "Apple cinnamon pie, if you want ice cream, there's vanilla in the freezer"
Dean hesitated to pick up the plate as she turned and walked away, her back straight and her hair swaying behind her as she wiped her hands on a small dish towel.
"I'm not buying it," Dean admit after she had disappeared around the door, the sound of her steps echoing through the house, and out the front with a loud click.
"Why not," Sam asked quietly
"Because why me?" Dean insisted again.
Bobby let out a sigh through his nose, reaching forward for his plate and cut off a piece of the sweet dessert as the two argued.
"If there is a God out there, why would he give a crap about me?"
The bite hovered inches from his mouth, and both men found themselves staring directly at the elder Winchester, wound up to the point of shifting on his feet while his hands clenched and unclenched restlessly at his sides. "Dean-" Sam had tried to interrupt, but the Winchester had been quick to cut him off, "Yeah, I've saved some people. I figure that made up for the stealing, and, and the ditching chicks. But why do I deserve to get saved-? I'm just a regular guy-!"
"Apparently you're a regular guy, that's important to the man upstairs," Sam's relaxed, thoughtful conclusion only seemed to make Dean more uncomfortable.
"Well that creeps me out." He scoffed, shaking his head as he absentmindedly reached out to grab the plate, "I mean, I don't like getting singled out at birthday parties, much less by God. " As he cut his fork into the pie, barely thinking about whatsoever, his brother lightly tapped his shoulder.
"Well, too bad, Dean.. Because I think he wants you to strap on your party hat."
Dean cleared his throat, shaking his head as he pointed his fork, now loaded with a bite toward the book, "Fine, ah.. What-ah.. What about-" A moan cut his words off, and both boys glanced down to see Bobby with a fork stuck in his mouth, eyes closed. "Mother of God.."
Dean hesitated at the sight of the older man, glancing down at the plate he had suddenly realized was in his hands, before glancing at his slightly weirded out brother. Slowly giving a shrug he lifted the fork to his lips, his eyes flickering shut as a louder, more relaxed moan passed his lips. " Holy .. Mmnn "
"You guys need a minute?" Sam asked quietly, shuffling one foot back while a smile toyed at his lips.
"What the Hell did she put in this-?" Dean muttered, looking down at the treat, now held almost delicately by the plate in front of him, "We have more, right? She said she made more.."
"Don't you go eatin' all that on your own, boy, last I checked she was mad at you both."
"Why, though?" Sam asked quietly, glancing briefly toward the direction of the front door, just in case she had suddenly barged inside, before turning back to the two grown men now nursing their food, "One minute she's happy, the next she's cold."
"She's never happy, if she grins like a loon, it means she's terrified." Deans statement had both hunters staring at him in silence, and he helped another bite into his mouth before he addressed them with a glare, "You really think she's that easy to switch moods?"
"Well.. she was in a mental institution.." Sam defended quietly. The look Dean gave him was almost a physical smack to the back of the head.
"She's from the future, and she gets psychic visions more than you even use to. Hers are every night."
"Whenever she sleeps," Bobby corrected cooly, shaking his head when they had turned to him, "She tries not to sleep at night for that reason, or if she falls asleep in the middle of the day, same thing."
It was silent, and they sobered, and Dean took another, long look at the book on the desk.
"Fine. What do we know about angels?"