Chapter 31

Then:

"It's fine." There's a bite to my tone that Dean knows not to push, so he holds up his hands in surrender and takes a step back before heading to the bathroom. Sam waits for Dean to close the bathroom door before moving too quickly for me to even register what's happening. He grabs a chair and sticks it under the bathroom doorknob.

"SAM!" Dean roars from the other side as I quickly move to get the chair, but Sam grabs me around my waist. I claw at his arms, trying to free myself, but he pushes me into a closet and locks me inside. It's dark and cramped, and I can feel the walls closing in on me.

"Let me out, Sam!" I scream, but Sam's already gone. "SAM!" When no response comes, not even from Dean, I sink to the floor of the tiny closet and bury my head in my hands as my entire body shudders.

Why is this happening to me?

Now:

I've never been particularly claustrophobic, but I'm shaking and panicking in a way I've never done before as my throat closes up. My Grace provides only a marginal amount of comfort as it rests against the hollow of my throat, warming my skin where icy chills creep over it.

"Dean?" I call, but there's no answer. Either Dean's not in the bathroom anymore, or my voice is too muffled for him to hear. Either way, I'm terrified, which is why I yelp in surprise when the closet door abruptly swings open. Sam's on the other side, Dean behind him, and the taller Winchester looks sheepish.

"Sorry, I just-" I don't care for explanations; I just fling myself into his arms and press my face into his collar. Sam freezes, but hugs me tightly, rubbing my back when I start trembling again. "I didn't know you were claustrophobic, Air, I'm sorry," he murmurs against my hair and I sniffle, pressing closer wordlessly. His grip on me tightens apologetically, and the gesture is oddly comforting, even though he'd been the one to shove me into the closet in the first place.

"I got her, man." Dean takes me carefully, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and letting me press closer to his side as he asks, "So what happened?"

"Nothing," Sam answers.

"My ass."

"I'm fine, Dean," Sam insists.

"Yeah? And what about Brady?"

Sam sighs. "Well, like you said...we need him." I'm relieved Sam didn't go off the rails, but a morbid part of me wishes he'd gone ahead and killed the snarky demon in the other room, anyway.

We return to the room where Brady is being held hostage only to find that Crowley's returned, pacing back and forth in front of the bound demon.

"Also might have given said toad the impression that you left your post last night because you and I are - wait for it - lovers in league against Satan," he's saying cheerfully when we enter and Brady groans.

"Who the hell believed that one?" I ask curiously, glancing between them. There is literally no chemistry that Crowley can play off of.

"You'd be surprised what I can spin into a good story or two." Crowley winks at me before turning back to Brady. "Hello, darling. So now death's off the table. Now you get to be on the boss's eternal-torment list with little ol' me."

"Oh, no," Brady sighs, "No, no, no, no, no..."

"Something else we have in common - apart from our torrid passion, of course - is craven self-preservation." Crowley raises an eyebrow. "So, now, why don't you tell me where Pestilence is at?"

Brady opens his mouth to answer, but then a low howling echoes in the distance. We all freeze because we know exactly what that is.

"Oh, God, Crowley," Brady mutters.

"Was that a hellhound?" Dean demands shakily.

"I'd say yeah." Crowley rummages through his coat and comes up with an ancient-looking coin. "Remember I was telling you about my crafty little tracking device?"

"Rings a bell," I say stiffly, my heart sinking when I realize what's happened.

"Demons planted one on me."

"You're saying a hellhound followed you here?!" Sam says furiously.

"Well, technically, he followed this." Crowley holds up the coin.

"Get me out of here. I'll tell you anything you want," Brady says, panicking.

"Shut up, Brady," I snap.

"Okay, well, then we should go," Dean suggests.

"Sorry, boys, little lady." Crowley pretends to tip an invisible hat at us. "No one knows more about the hounds than I. You're long past the point of 'go.'" With that, he tosses the coin at Dean, who catches it, and promptly disappears.

"Damn it," Dean mutters.

"I told you!" Sam scolds.

"Oh, well, good for you," Dean snarks back and I roll my eyes.

"Can we focus, guys?"

"Yeah." Dean huffs and turns to head out the door. "I think there's salt in the kitchen. C'mon, Air."

"I'll watch Brady," Sam calls after us as we leave.

"Watch me?" I hear Brady say hysterically as the door swings shut behind us. "Get me the hell outta here!"

The growling increases in volume as Dean and I practically race to the kitchen. I find the salt container and toss it to him, but before he can get it to the window, the glass shatters inwards. The hellhound is here, and it's pissed. I can practically feel the heat of the large dog's breath on my skin, even though I'm not anywhere near it, and take an involuntary step back.

"Air, don't move." Dean's voice is tense as he shifts slowly towards the door, preparing to throw it open so that we can make a break for it, and the hellhound snarls at the motion. Dean freezes, his eyes flicking up to me worriedly; apparently, the hellhound is closer to me.

"Dean...?" I swallow, terrified; as much as I remember being an archangel, I'm human right now and I most definitely would not like to die at the claws of a hellhound.

"It's okay," Dean reassures me, inching forward slightly in my direction, "It's gonna be okay, Ariel." The movement stirs the hellhound into action, though, and I'm knocked to the ground abruptly. I don't have the wind to scream; it's been pushed out of me as heavy paws press down on my chest. "Air!" Dean yells, but the hellhound's weight shifts as I assume it whips around to snarl at him. Dean takes a shaky step back, unsure of what to do as his eyes flick between me and the invisible weight pinning me down.

"Go find Sam," I say weakly and the hellhound turns back to me. I can feel its damp, hot breath against my face. Dean reaches for something, anything, to hit the hellhound with. "Dean, go!" I guess I shouldn't have raised my voice because the hellhound's claws come out, digging painfully into my stomach. I have to choke back a cry of pain as Dean stumbles for the door. As soon as the door closes behind him, the hellhound lunges for the door. I grab blindly for it, catching a handful of invisible fur that smells horribly like sulfur and brimstone, and yank it back, desperate to keep it away from reaching the Winchesters.

The hellhound yelps and spins around in my grasp, and I feel sharp fangs sinking into my shoulder. I scream and hear Sam's muffled voice in the distance yelling my name. The hellhound worries my shoulder, causing the gashes to tear even more and blood to stream down my arm, before tossing me onto the ground. I wince as my torn shoulder makes impact first, and then the hellhound's claws tear into my side. Blood gushes down my front as the claws rake across my abdomen, ripping my guts, and it's only when I let my muscles go limp that the supernatural dog stops.

It sniffs at me a few times and I try to stay still. Huffing in satisfaction that I'm not going to move anytime soon, it pads towards the door and I pray Sam and Dean have had the sense to escape as I close my eyes, trying to breathe through the pain enough to shift myself up. Agony flares through my entire body at the movement and I flop back into the growing puddle of my own blood with a strangled gasp. I'm not going anywhere. Oh, God, I'm going to die here.

Suddenly, there's an almighty crash from the other side of the door and now there are two dogs yelping and barking at each other. Sam bursts into the kitchen, his eyes widening when he sees me bleeding on the floor.

"Shit, Air." He reaches for me and I wince when his hand touches my bad shoulder. "Sorry, sorry." He carefully scoops me up and I can't do much more than let my head fall onto his shoulder.

"Gonna get blood on you," I mumble and feel said coppery substance bubble past my lips.

"Shut up, it doesn't matter." Sam clutches me tightly as he carries me out of the house and towards the Impala. Crowley's in the front seat with Dean, Brady in the back, and Sam ignores both demons as he carefully slides into the backseat beside Brady, holding me against his chest.

"Holy crap," Dean breathes in horror, trying to peer over the driver's seat at the damage done to me, and Sam shakes his head.

"Just drive, Dean, we've gotta get her out of here." Dean revs up the engine obediently and I flinch when the jolt of the car agitates my injuries.

"S-" I can't even form Sam's name, my throat tightening as I cough hard. Blood spatters Sam's shirt.

"Shh, don't talk, it's okay." He strokes my hair gently. "I've got you. I'm here." I bury my face into his chest as much as I can.

"Don't...don't wanna..."

"What? What don't you want?" Sam loosens his grip, fearing he might be hurting me, and I shake my head, my fingers twisting in his jacket.

"Don't wanna die," I mumble weakly at last and he relaxes.

"You're not gonna die, Air, you'll be okay."

"Don't wanna go home...Michael'll be mad..."

"You're not going to Heaven, you're staying right here. You're gonna be just fine, sweetheart." Sam's voice cracks on the petname and through my fading vision, I can see Dean's eyes flick up to us, wide with worry in the rearview mirror.

"S...Sam..." I attempt to speak again, but he presses a kiss against my temple gently, cutting me off. Unconsciously, I let my muscles relax at the tender gesture and lean heavily against him. The crystal around my neck rolls out of my shirt and Sam's eyes widen.

"Ariel, what if I give you your Grace back?" Dean stops the car abruptly and both Brady and Crowley jolt forward, the demons muttering expletives at the sudden stop.

"Will it work?" Dean turns to face us, ignoring the swearing demons.

"I-I don't know," I force out past the blood welling in my mouth. It spills down my chin and Sam wipes it away with his sleeve.

"And here's where we make our exit," Crowley says suddenly, grabbing Brady's shoulder. "No offense, love, but we'd rather not be turned to ash immediately. See you on the other side." He disappears with Brady and Sam opens the car door, yanking me out and laying me down on the grass beside the highway. Dean comes around to join us.

"I'm not gonna do it unless you want me to," Sam tells me as he pulls the cord from around my neck.

"I-" I cough, trying to ignore the metallic taste that coats my tongue, and try again, "I want..." I reach weakly for the crystal hanging from Sam's hand and he nods.

"Okay. Okay, I'll give it back." He strokes my hair a few times before kissing my forehead. "It's gonna be okay, Ariel." Dean kneels down beside us, letting Sam shift me into his arms as the taller Winchester stands, clutching the crystal with hands covered in my blood.

"Ready, kid?" Dean murmurs to me and I force a nod, letting my fingers curl around the material of his jacket weakly.

"Shut your eyes," I rasp a warning as Sam throws the crystal to the ground. It shatters on impact with the gravel and white light surrounds me. I'm vaguely aware of blinding pain worse than anything the hellhound inflicted on me, a sharp agony in the center of my back, and then a numb warmth that envelops me.

And I cease to exist.

Haha, no, I'm totally kidding, I'm fine.

Actually, to be fair, I did cease to exist in a sense. The human part of me, while her mark remains on my mentality, is gone, and that's the part of me that's been telling the story all this time.

Since things have changed, I guess you guys really don't want to hear the archangel's point of view. I mean, who could relate to that except me? So I'll leave you to see the story from your own perspectives now on, starting from the instant my Grace returned.

When the light fades away, Sam and Dean dare to crack their eyes open, only to find that Ariel's unconscious in Dean's arms. There's no blood coating her body, and no visible sign of any injury or even life, aside from the faint rise and fall of her chest.

"Is...is she...?" Sam croaks, reaching for Ariel's wrist to check her pulse.

"She's breathing," Dean confirms, squeezing the unconscious girl close for a moment. Sam nods, placing her wrist down again with a heavy sigh of relief. The Grace had done its job; it had healed Ariel completely.

"Why isn't she waking up?" Before Dean can even answer Sam's question, though, Ariel stirs, her hazel eyes slowly fluttering open. They look a little different now, brighter and sharper. "Air?" Sam asks warily and she focuses on him first. She manages a weak smile.

"I'm okay." Dean's the first to yank her up and into a tight embrace, being closer, and she melts into the hug, her arms wrapping around the older Winchester in return. Finally, she pulls back and reaches out one arm to Sam, who shuffles closer and scoops her up into a bone-crushing embrace.

"So you got your wings back?" Dean asks when they all pull apart and Ariel frowns thoughtfully, glancing behind her as if expecting to see wings. Whatever she sees, it causes a bright smile to form on her face. Sam doesn't think he's seen her this happy since before Gabriel died, and something in his chest loosens with relief that she hasn't changed. She's the same girl he'd grown to love as a little sister, Grace or no Grace.

"Yeah, they're back." Then the smile fades slightly as she glances between them. "We should call Crowley, get Pestilence's location from Brady."

And it's back to work again, the revelation that they now have a full-fledged archangel back on their team put behind them. Dean pulls out his cellphone and begins dialing.

Soon enough, they're all in an alleyway, Brady handing Crowley a slip of paper.

"Yeah, I'm sure Pestilence will be there." He casts a nervous look at Ariel, who's standing stiffly at the edge of the alley, and swallows. "Thanks." She nods curtly; just because he's giving them information, it doesn't mean he's getting off scot-free.

"What do you think?" Dean asks Crowley.

"It's good. You got no reason to lie, have you? Like I said before, you're in my boat now." Crowley smiles coldly at Brady, who scowls.

"You've screwed me for eternity."

"Trust me. Not nearly as long as you think." Crowley pats his shoulder and starts walking to the end of the alley. Ariel waits until he passes her before clicking her fingers. A salt line appears neatly at the edge of the alley, cutting Brady off from escaping. Crowley nods to her. "Cheers, love." She tilts her head in acknowledgment. With the power of her Grace thrumming beneath her skin once more, it's easy to access the cold demeanor she'd once held around demons, no matter how much her human mind screams to run as far as she can.

"Where are you going?" Brady demands, sounding frightened.

"I'm doing you a favor," Crowley tells him and turns to Sam, "I expect we'll be in touch." Sam doesn't look at him as he steps over the salt line to join Ariel and Dean.

"What is this?" Brady turns on them as Crowley disappears.

"All those angels, all those demons, all those sons of bitches...they just don't get it, do they, Sammy?" Dean's voice is mock-casual.

"No, they don't, Dean." Sam's own voice is cold.

"You see, Brady, they're the ones you ought to be afraid of," Ariel adds calmly, shoving her hands into her pockets and wishing she still had her archangel's blade.

Brady scoffs as he watches Sam approach him with the demon-killing knife drawn. "I bet this is a real moment for you, big boy. Gonna make you feel all better?"

"It's a start." Sam's jaw clenches.

"Gonna make up for all the times that we yanked your chain? Yellow Eyes, Ruby, me? But it wasn't all our fault, was it? No, no, no, no. You're the one who trusted us. You're the one who let us into your life, let us whisper in your ear over and over and over again." Ariel wants to hit Brady herself, shut him up, but he continues, "Ever wonder why that is, Sammy? Ever wonder why we were so in your blind spot? Maybe it's because we got the same stuff in our veins and, deep down, you know you're just like us."

Brady lunges at Sam, but Ariel gets there first, slamming her fist forward. The demon crumples backwards, spitting out a mouthful of blood, and Ariel shakes the sting out from her fist. She's really out of practice, and it shows when even a simple punch to a demon hurts her.

"Do you ever shut up?" she demands, rolling her eyes, "This isn't a Bond movie."

"Don't you feel all snug and secure with your little power source tucked away again?" Brady sneers at her before turning back to Sam. "Maybe you hate us so much because you hate what you see every time you look in the mirror. You ever think of that?" He chuckles hoarsely. "Maybe the only difference between you and a demon...is your hell is right here."

Sam glances at Ariel and she moves, pinning Brady's arms behind his back long enough for Sam to stab him with the demon-killing knife. Brady chokes as he dies and Sam yanks the blade out after the orange light flickering within the demon dies. "Interesting theory," the younger Winchester says quietly at last and walks past Dean, out of the alley.

Ariel drops the dead demon to the ground and follows Dean out, dispersing the salt line with a wave of her hand. She could get used to this archangel thing again.

"You can quit treating me like a ticking bomb," Ariel says wryly when Dean approaches her nervously on Bobby's porch the next day. He flushes as he sits down beside her.

"That obvious, huh?"

"I'll tell you right now, if I was gonna change, I would've changed the instant I got my memories back."

Dean shrugs. "Thing is...I kinda thought you did."

Ariel frowns, looking up. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I saw you after you thought Gabriel died the first time. Y'know, when Kali stabbed him. You reacted the way any human would, but when you got your memories back...when Gabriel died for real...I dunno, it's like you shut down on us. Honestly, I thought the human you was gone for good." Dean looks embarrassed at having to admit it.

"Well, she's always gonna be a part of me. So you won't have to worry about that." Ariel shrugs, careful not to acknowledge how she had dealt with Gabriel's death. Just thinking about him makes her throat tighten painfully and Dean notices.

"You, uh...you okay? About Gabriel, I mean?"

"Yes." She drops her gaze to her clasped hands in her lap before correcting wearily, "No. I told Sam it was getting easier, but...it's not. It just hurts more and more every day."

"I get it." Dean lets out a brief humorless chuckle. "Believe me, if anyone gets how it feels to lose a brother, it's me." He glances inside and Ariel follows his gaze to where Sam is sitting with Bobby in the kitchen, talking quietly. "But that's what we're meant to deal with. So we stow our crap and keep going, 'cause we've got a world to save."

"And if I can't stow my crap?" Ariel looks back at Dean, who smiles tiredly.

"You're gonna have to." She presses her face against his collar as tears sting her eyes. He clutches her tightly, letting her cry silently into his shirt. "I know. I know it hurts, sweetheart, I'm sorry." He rubs her back gently. He doesn't say it's going to be okay, because he knows from personal experience that it never will be.

But he can at least be there for the kid, and hope that it's enough to get her through.

I'm pretty sure most of this chapter was just derping. Ignore the lack of quality.

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