Tenshi no Onchou
Grace of (an) Angel
Warnings!
Rated for Language and Violence, death of innocents and people who have no relation to this story, mentions of Demonic violence, blood, broken bones
Both this chapter and next few chapters
Hurt/limp! Angeled!Dean and Hurt/limp!Angeled!Sammy, Awesome/understanding/Freaked out/hurt/ hopeful/Daddy John! And worried/worried / freaked out!Bobby
Please note that this is a completely AU fan Fiction. Mainly focusing on !Teen!chesters! for most of the story.
Japanese; Tenshi no Onchou, please, this was done on Google translator, please correct it if it's wrong...
Please note that this is an AU Fiction, to a certain point. Something's, such as Mary's death will still happen. However, some of the characters, such as John's attitude, will be slightly different, i.e. more understanding, he will take care of Sammy and Dean more efficiently, as this is not an abuse fic, (and Gabe had a small part with stuffs) and not as hell bent on hunting,
If you don't like that, don't read it!
Teaching lessons to inhuman Archangels, if you don't like the way supernatural portrays the Archangels, I advise you to click the back button... please don't flame me with religious stuffs, as this is a fan fiction and I will take it off if I get too many people saying shit, so why ruin it for others?
Having said that, please if you find any spelling errors, grammar or it just doesn't flow properly with the story, Pleases, tell me! I will fix it!
Characters: Dean; 16, Sam; 12, John, Bobby, Castiel/Cas, Gabe/Gabriel and snippets of Michael and Lucifer (well... more or less).
Full summary
When a Demon Hunt goes wrong; the outcome is two 'Angeled up' Winchester brothers that John has the delight of dealing with. Only the small family has no idea what they are up against... will Sam and Dean learn to control their new abilities or will they fall victim to the Demons that now hunt them?
Chapter Three...
John Winchester never ended up sleeping in the bed located in the upstairs 'Guest room'- which was really just a study, complete with dusty tomes and an old, lumpy mattress. The old hunter would have to take a raincheck on that offer... as soon as his boys where awake and healthy. And so, despite Bobby's protests, John had slept down stairs next to Dean and Sam.
By the time John was finally awake enough to remember what happened just hours before, the living room was illuminated beautifully with the final rays of the setting sun. It was peaceful, at first. Until his memories of the night before sliced though the sleep induced haze. The illumination soon proved to remind John of the powerful light that engulfed his sons the night before. John shuddered as he thought about the possible outcomes and consequences that the demon hunts may have induced on his family. Would he have to kill his own sons if it that light turned Dean and Sam into something less than human? Could he, John Winchester kill the last remaining members of his broken family if Sam AND Dean really were dangerous?
John Winchester shook his head as if those thoughts had attacked the outside of his skull. He was over analysing things... Dean and Sam would be fine. No matter what happened, when Mary died on that fateful night, John promised himself that he would stand by his family no matter what.
Looking at the facts; there was no way of knowing what the light did to Sam and Dean. They hadn't responded to any tests, which included silver, holy water, talismans, mirrors, iron, salt, exorcisms and so many other rituals -which had been either the real deal or myth- that had been performed on the two boys. Hell, the two older hunters had even checked for retractable teeth or brain probe to ensure that neither where wraths or vamps. After long series of tests, which were also preformed on John himself, Sam and Dean were innocent until proven guilty. However, there was no explanation for the rapid regeneration and the comatose state that both John's sons resided in.
Stopping his trail of depressing thoughts, John pushed back the dusty quilt that had been insulating his body, watching the dust particles dance in the air as he moved. The hunter looked over to Sam and Dean... they hadn't moved since John and Bobby had laid them in the exact position last night. The slow rise and fall of their chests was the only indication that Sam and Dean where still alive. But if those two didn't wake up he and Bobby would have to put an IV in both.
"Winchester, you gonna stand there all night and sulk or do you want some grub?" the grouchy voice of Bobby Singer echoed from the kitchen.
It was now that John noticed the small of bacon, eggs and toast from the kitchen... along with a faint smell of burnt food. His stomach gave a low grumble in any case. John hadn't eaten since yesterday morning.
"You cook? Or did you burn the damn toast to a crisp?" John said, raising an eyebrow.
There was a sting of muffled cusses in Latin, English and a few other languages as Bobby rushed over to the now smoking toaster.
"Here is a tip; if you're not good at cooking, it might be worth cooking only one thing at a time," John said with a smug smile.
"Shut up and get some damn plates," was the only reply from the kitchen.
Ten minutes and two plates of bacon and eggs later (the burnt toast was discarded), John was sitting at the wooden kitchen table, cradling a hot cup of coffee in his callused hands. The both hunters, but more practically John, looked as if he had aged ten years. The eldest Winchester looked tired and worn, despite the long hours of rest not even half an hour before.
"Have they even stirred? Dean and Sam were both in the same position as before, I was hoping that they might have signs of waking..." John trailed off, looking down into the hot, opaque liquid, as if the rapidly cooling coffee held the answers.
"Not even a twitch, I've been in and out of that room all day; collecting intel for other hunters, and I wasn't exactly quite about it. If they even so much of breathed oddly, I would have known," Bobby said, studying John carefully.
John knew that this was Singer's way of not only looking out for Dean and Sam, but keeping an eye out for... erratic or dangerous behaviour. It wouldn't surprise John if Bobby had a silver knife hidden professionally under the desk in the library- or even under every table or cabinet in the whole damn house.
"How long was I out for?" John asked, looking up to meet Bobby's eyes.
"About ten hours... give or take. Think you woke up once or twice; when I came in to grab some stuff, but you looked out of it," Bobby answered.
John sighed and pressed a hand to his forehead. He could feel a migraine starting to form and he hadn't been awake for half an hour yet. Ten hours... which means that Sam and Dean would have had to of been out of it for a least sixteen. They needed fluids, any longer and the two of them would rapidly dehydrate.
"We need to hook them up to a saline, do you have any drips?"John asked.
"Yeah, an old doctor dropped by about two months or so ago, only use em' in situations like this... which happens a lot. Wasn't sure if you wanted to wait another few hours," Bobby answered, nodding slightly.
John muttered thanks, put down his coffee and walked over into the next room where Sam and Dean rested. There was a faint clatter of plates from the kitchen, indicating that Bobby was packing up the remains for dinner.
"We should have enough saline for a few days... but anytime after that and I will need to restock the medical supplies," Bobby yelled from the hallway.
The IVs, salines and other major medical supplies was kept in the small closet under the stairs. They resided with a few air mattress, linen, sliver, paint, holy water, a few guns and salt. The bits and pieces in the closet was mostly used in emergency situations; like if a hunter or victim of a hunt was laying in Bobby's living room, bleeding on the wooden floors. A hospital was out of the question, so the hunters had to make due with what was available.
John took the saline, IVs and two home-made metal stands from the closet and slowly made his way back to the slumbering forms of his sons, stepping over the placement of the two mattress which resembled more of an obstacle course than a library.
Both Sam and Dean were both right handed; therefore it is more probable that they would use the dominant hand first when they woke. Logically, the IV would not freak them out as much in the left as that was the least dominant hand and less likely to get used. John pulled out Dean's left arm and placed it above the covers.
He needed something to slow the blood flow into Dean's arm, slowing the flow will pronounce the veins and make it easier for the IV to be inserted.
John looked around. His belt was too thick and someone would need to hold it for an extended amount of time and Sam needed a drip too. His boot... or more importantly the shoe lace. John grabbed his shoe, hastily unravelling the shoe laces. Once the aggravating task was over, John wound the shoe lace around his eldest sons arm twice, before tying a tight double knot to ensure it stays in place.
By the time Bobby had come back from the hall, two IVs and two bags of saline in each hand, by this time John was in the middle of unwinding the second shoe lace way from his boot.
Hours later John was beginning to think that Dean and Sam would never wake up. They hadn't moved or so much of twitched in the last twelve hours. Bobby had, of course, growled at the younger hunter assuring him that Dean and Sam would wake up in their own time and they hadn't been out for so long it was classed as a coma.
After that particular conversation, John had announced that it had been a long day and that he was going to bed. Singer reluctant agreed and left the 'Idjit Winchester' alone before turning in himself. John knew it was unlikely that he would sleep during the night as he had slept for most of the day. But it made it easier for him to watch over Dean and Sam, as well as answering calls Bobby might have due to a hunter doing a late night shift.
John slowly walked over to where Dean and Sam lay down on top of the old mattress. As it was much easier to monitor others when they were regularly in the same room, which was way Dean and Sam where placed in the small room just outside of the kitchen. The room was originally meant to be a living room- that was if the old fireplace was anything to go by. But from all the old dusty books the hunter had collected over the years, it reassembled a library more than anything it may have been in the past. For the last few hours, John had been wandering aimlessly in the kitchen or reading old books from Bobby's collection which might hold the answer to what had happened the night before. As John predicted, there was little chance of getting a good night sleep, so the hunter had turned to the books, the small room illuminated by a small lamp by the old couch.
John sat down quietly on the old couch with yet another book in hand. Carefully not touching either of his boys; both from suspicion of what happened and fear of accidently jarring them... John snorted at his idiocy; Dean and Sam haven't been fragile for a long time, a hand on either's forehead wasn't going to break any bones. After a minute or so, the hunter reached out and carefully threaded his hand though Sammy's almost-too-long hair.
He sat on the old couch just like at, his hand on Sammy's head, slowly petting, as if his son was a sleeping puppy. Not long after however, Sammy moved slightly. Just a light shift of his small head; that could have been passed off as a slight knock from John's own hand, only it wasn't. John Winchester looked down when the felt the movement. He felt hope swell, hope that Sammy might be waking up.
"Sammy, are you awake?" the hunter murmured quietly.
This always seemed to be the stimulus for either of the boys waking. His voice, talking to them, it worked numerous times for both, hopefully now was not going to be any different regardless of the fact that both had been unconscious for almost a twenty four hours.
Carefully, John pulled himself off the couch and crouched down next to Sam, sitting between the old mattress on the floor and the sofa.
"Sammy, are you awake? Can you hear me?" John coaxed again, trying to awaken Sammy from his seemingly eternal slumber.
Sam shifted is small head once again. His son's eyes flickered beneath his eyelids for a moment, as if seeing something in the darkness that no one else could see. John was about to yell for Bobby when Sam finally opened his eyes.
Only, it wasn't the blue-hazel John remembered: Sam's eyes where glowing, literally. It was the matching glow Dean had in his own eyes when he first woke in the forest and it was the same glow the tree had discharged before John had passed out.
John almost jumped back in shock. He should have reached for the gun which rested by the couch an arm's length away. But he didn't. He couldn't; because it was still his little Sammy. John could feel the confusion, fear and distress freaking radiating off of his youngest son in waves.
"Sammy... It's me... its Dad," John said softly, trying not to startle what he hoped to hell was still Sammy.
Sam didn't answer. His youngest didn't even move. He only kept his eerie glowing eyes on his father. Not wavering for a second. The fear dissipated, leaving confusion and hope, the emotions that John could feel; but shouldn't be able to feel.
"It's me Sam, it's really me. Your safe now, we're at Bobby's and Dean and I are right here. Can you hear me?"John murmured in what could have been reassurance for both Sam and himself.
The glowing in his sons eyes receded till it dulled to a soft glow. The radiation of emotions could still be felt but it wasn't as strong as it once was. Then, there was a sudden pain, like something had forced itself into his brain like a hot iron brand. The hunter felt a sudden onslaught of memories, one after another.
Little Sammy who John could remember holding the small baby which was just the size of a bread loaf eleven years ago. Little Sammy who smiled happily over the smallest and simplest of things. Sammy with Dean on the playground in some random town they had passed through when Sam was only four years old. Sammy and Dean after Christmas, revealing in the youngest finally uncovering the truth about what's really out in the world. Coming back from a long hunt, to find his youngest son half bald from one of Dean's pranks. The three of them at a sunny beach one summer day on the first of July taking a short break from hunting...
John gasped suddenly as the memories receded, the pain along with it. As awareness finally came back to the hunter, it registered that the sudden onslaught had knocked him flat to the ground. John pushed himself up shakily and looked down at Sam in shock.
"... Dad...?" Sam murmured drowsily, he sounded small, sleepy and scared.
John didn't say anything; his brain was almost in shut down. Maybe it was some state of shock or something, he thought vaguely. He heard of near death situations causing the whole 'life flashing before my eyes' but this was ridiculous. Those where his memories... of Sammy and Dean...
"Dad... are you okay?" Sam spoke again, this time more awake.
John looked down at his son; his brain finally rebooting.
"Sammy...?" John breathed.
Sammy was awake... was it him who probed his head? How did Sam manage that? How was John able to freaking feel Sam's emotions? How come it hadn't happened before? Why didn't it happen when Dean first woke up?
The hunter had a million questions racing around his head. Buzzing away like flies on a carcass.
"Dad... you're scaring me," Sammy whimpered.
He could feel insecurity, fear, concern and sadness; emotions John was sure as Hell weren't his own. They were Sam's. The migraine that had been forming since John had woken up suddenly intensified. He was going to need something a lot stronger than coffee to get through this. One thing that had come out of this was that John was sure as Hell it was still Sammy. That light thing... whatever it was, gave both Sam and Dean the fucking shining... But John could feel Sam's emotions, it was still Sam. Which means whatever that light was didn't Windex his brain or turned him into some kind of inhuman monster. He was still human... only with a few more things added...
"Yeah... I guess I'm alright, Sam," John murmured, pressing his hand to his temples to try and block out the migraine that was slowly pounding away in his skull like a fucking sledge hammer.
Please correct me if I'm wrong I could not find if Sam and Dean are right handed or left handed or ambidextrous.
Thanks for those who reviewed the last time... I'm sorry about the delay, now that I'm on SWAT VAC I may be able to get more chapters up... it may take me a while for the next one though as I will focus more on exams...
I haven't decided the pairings for this fan Fiction, but it may be SLASH MUCH, MUCH later on (like sequel or two later). I will up the rating to M if I do induce slash into this Fiction, but it will depend on how far I want to go for this story.
Please tell me Please Read and Review- any constructive criticism is great- but please no flames... Any suggestions for parings and if your comments if you do mind if this does become a slash fan Fiction.
