ENJOY ~
Sam rushed to his older brother's side. "Are you okay?"
Dean regarded Sam with a chafed inward expression, "Could you have dug that knife any deeper, Cas?" He mutters. "Damn."
"I did apologize." Castiel says.
The blade completely bore through the back of Dean's shoulder, sending Danny barreling out of his body. They both doubled over in pain. Dean dropped to his knees tightly pressing a palm to his shoulder, as Danny tried to pry himself on all fours, but was too blinded by the pain of his own shoulder. It was like the salt bullet all over again.
Only worse.
Danny uttered a loud groan. He will forever feel the severe swollen discomfort on his shoulder. Not because of his healing factor taking its tome with the wound, but rather because of the big mental scar he'd have to live with for the rest of his life. Danny was ultimately fed up with these goons. It was definitely time to make his escape once & for all! Whether it be by flying, throwing a ghastly green blast, or two, WHATEVER. He was done.
Once he managed to stand, however, the guy in the trench coat lingered over Danny. Awkwardly drawing back, Danny was about ready to slug the guy good in the face. Trench coat obviously knew what Danny was thinking when he took it upon himself to evade the punch. He then presses his right index & middle fingers on Danny's forehead. Next thing Danny knew his vision became blurred, & he felt as though he had become rather delirious because before he fell asleep he saw something he didn't understand.
He saw wings.
Enormous faint black wings.
"Couldn't you have done that instead of jabbing me with a freaking knife?"
Dean hadn't really looked past the pure white hair, glowing green eyes, flying, full body black spandex suit, thing. After it momentarily possessed his body, even less. But. Sammy meant it when he said he was fully convinced that the seriously annoying freak show was harmless.
"What makes you SO damn sure when this thing wakes up again, it won't rattle our chains?" Dean scowls.
The Winchester brothers were in the Men of Letters' library. Dean sat beside one of the reading desks, chugging down on a different bottle of beer, since his first one broke into pieces by a flying knife. Sam had finished tending to Dean's wound by securing an approriately sized bandage & tightening gauze around it.
"OW. Dammit!"
Sam tried his best to keep an even tone. "This THING is a kid, Dean." A huff. Then, "I don't think he meant anything when he took over your body-"
"Yeah. You THINK. What the hell would you call it then?"
SCARED. Was what Sam would've said if it weren't for Castiel interrupting a possible argument. Castiel sensed the mild tension between the two brothers as he clears his throat.
"Is everything all right?" Castiel cautiously asks.
"What is it, Cas?" Dean was thankful that his friend made an appearance. Sam would've pried a lot further into their conversation & it wouldn't have been pretty.
Sam slowly shook his head as if he knew what Dean was thinking. "Yeah." Sam said. "Weren't you suppose to be watching over the kid?"
"Nothing to worry about." Castiel noted. "He's, how you do put it? 'Out like a light'?"
"You sure? That thing is seriously slippery, he got past Sam in the dungeon."
Sam held a scoff.
"Yes. I'm quite certain he won't be waking up any time soon. Although . . . one thing does bother me,"
"Yeah?"
Sam wrinkles his forehead. "What is it?"
"It's probably nothing, but I feel as though I should know more about this strange boy. What is he exactly?"
"Well. I'd say we bagged ourselves a really stubborn ass ghost, but Sammy likes to think otherwise."
Sam shifted uncomfortably when Castiel brought his gaze on him. "He called himself a Halfa."
Dean knits an eyebrow. "Half? Half of what?"
A huff. "Not HALF OF. A Halfa." Sam continued. "He told me he wasn't dead, but that he was a ghost, & not exactly human either."
"WHAT?" Dean blurted.
"I know. It doesn't make any sense, but that's how the kid put it."
"Wouldn't that mean he was half dead? How is that even possible?"
"He is neither half dead nor half alive." Castiel interjected. "It's not humanly possible to be both."
"Oh yeah?" Dean scoffs. "What do you call a zombie?"
"It's a corpse given life."
A pause.
"Do you know something we don't, Cas?" Sam suddenly asks.
"I think, you two don't have any idea what you've just done." Castiel wore a windswept expression. Almost bleak or somber.
Danny dreamt of the revenge of the giant killer mutant pop-tart.
He was back home in his kitchen. Placing the breakfast treat into the toaster, which was perfectly placed between the fridge, & the sink. When all of a sudden it grew ten feet tall, with a mouth drooling with green goop, again. It roared so loud it shook the entire setting. Just hungry to get a bite out of Danny. Nasty as ever! Oh. But wait. Just when Danny thought it stopped transforming into a butt ugly snack giant. It hadn't. This thing must've of thought, 'Hey. I need look pretty good chasing down my prey.' So. Why not grow wings? Like. NO JOKE. This pop-tart monster branched out gooey marshmallow appendages. It roared again hovering over Danny.
He yells, "Get away from me, YOU MARSHMALLOW FREAK!" Then realizes it was all just a really awful, really weird dream, & woke up to an unfamiliar bedroom. Or rather a dorm. On the account of how small the room was, the hard futon, the neatly placed furniture so close together, & plain brick walls.
Danny jerked upright when he heard a really loud crunch.
"Uh. 'Sup?"
Danny scoffs as he looked to his right. "Running out of places to imprison me, Mr. Sasquatch? Not that I'm complaining of course. I actually like this place better than being chained up in a hidden dungeon."
Another crunch came from Sam, who was perfectly poised next to the exit on an armchair, with a fat book on his lap, a big smoothie cup in his left hand, & fork in the other. Danny took note of the short barreled shotgun resting next to the armchair.
Danny wore a vexatious expression. "What the heck are you eating?"
"Salad. Want some?"
Danny snorts. SERIOUSLY? "No. I don't want any-" But his stomach betrayed him
Sam knits an eyebrow. "I think you do, kid."
"Quit calling me kid! It's DANNY. All right?"
"I'll call you by your name when you stop calling me Mr. Sasquatch. Here."
Danny unintentionally recoiled back when Sam drew closer. He hadn't realized it, but Danny was a lot more spooked than he let on, & it wasn't because of the nightmare with the pop-tart monster. Getting kidnapped. Knocked out way too many times for him to count. Cuffed up & getting hurt. All too new & scary experiences for Danny. Yeah. Who wouldn't scoot away from potential danger just for a few seconds?
Sam set the salad cup on the corner of the futon. Danny looked at it as if it were murder weapon. Was it poisoned? Would he suffocate on the food? Was it worth it? Danny's stomach rumbled again. He caved. Slowly, but surely he took the dang cup. He practically gorged down all of its content. It wasn't the most delicious thing on earth, but it was good enough for him. Strawberry, blueberry, yogurt, salad. Who'd thought?
"Thanks." Danny muttered.
Sam nods. "Sure."
There was a long pause before they heard the sound of something rustling. Danny didn't quite make it out because it was quick, but if he had to describe it, it was like leaves or small pieces of paper blowing in a rough wind. The guy in the trench coat makes an appearance.
Danny couldn't help the yell that escaped out of him, & he wondered if he was still having a nightmare.
"It's all right, kid!" Sam exclaimed.
Apparently Danny didn't notice until he saw half of his torso had went through the mattress, but he had gone & unintentionally used his intangibility ghost power.
He caught his breath, "OKAY!" Danny yells. "But would you PLEASE explain what is up with trench coat & feathers over there? HE JUST APPEARED OUT OF THIN AIR!"
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