Chapter 6 - Mini Adventures in Bunker Life

Part 1: A New Kind of Normal

Several days passed. Sam and Dean carried on with their life. As Riley had her own room, she tried to stay out of their way. It wasn't so much awkward, but it was an adjustment.

Riley was not exactly like most of the people that had taken up residence in the bunker for any extended period. She was more like Jody. Dragged into the world kicking and screaming. At least Riley's introduction hadn't been violent…..

Castiel had not reappeared since the quick visit at the diner. He'd been off trying to track Jack. So far he'd been able to find all of the kid's other 'victims'. The grace had been drained out of them early enough. So there were no more deaths, and no more…..whatever Riley was now.

Dean and Sam were hard at work, splitting their time between trying to find a way to find Jack, trying to find the new prophet, and trying to figure out what to do about Riley. No luck so far as to the first two. As to the third, thus far other than the wings, Riley remained pretty close to human. So they had very little to go on with what she was / could do.

Eventually they'd have to start testing her potential for angelic powers, but no one was quite ready for that.

Thus life settled into a strange form of normalcy. Riley would work. The boys would research. They'd eat. Rinse repeat.

The fourth day, Sam dragged her from her self-imposed seclusion and started to teach her some basic wards. Riley was able to draw them fine, but there was no real way to test them unless they wanted to call some things Riley didn't really want to meet yet. And Sam didn't really want to try her on the angelic ones, given they weren't sure what would happen to Riley herself. So he worked on helping her memorize the symbols, what they meant, and having her draw them over and over until she could do it almost automatically. "You'll never know when you'll need to be able to do in blood, quickly."

The fifth day, Dean offered some hand to hand training. That Riley refused at first. She said she might eventually want to learn, but not yet. Dean was insistent though that she at least know some basics so she could defend herself. Which was why Riley found herself in gym clothing at least once a day after that learning some basics of fighting. Hoping to avoid the situations which Sam had described.

Dean mentioned they'd get to shooting pretty soon too. Riley was not overly enthused by this idea.

Food was obtained, mainly by Sam. Dean cooked occasionally, but it became clear he didn't like grocery shopping. So it didn't tend to happen often.

After the sixth day in a row of takeout meals, Riley had insisted on grocery shopping. Dean was not happy, but had driven her in his car, "baby", as he called it. He followed her around the store, pushing the cart as she placed items into the cart. "You sure we can afford all this?" Dean murmured.

Riley glanced at him, "It's fine, Dean. I'm still working. I got it." Dean frowned, but it wasn't like he and Sam made money hunting. Riley smiled, "You guys are helping me. Giving me a place to stay. Letting me figure out what's going on. Least I can do. Plus I owe you for the training."

The girl next door charm had a way of disarming Dean. He was used to women either trying to kill him, sleep with him, or mother him. Except for Charlie. In fact, Riley reminded him of Charlie, and he considered that it might be worth introducing the two. They would probably get along like thieves.

So that put Riley and Charlie into the singular category of… what?

Dean shrugged, thoughts for another time. Instead he spotted a case of beer that he wanted and snagged it as Riley continued to drag him around the store.

Which was how the Winchesters found themselves having normal sit down homecooked meals that involved things they couldn't eat with their hands. Sam and Dean didn't have the heart to say no. Nor did they want to.

Thus, Riley settled into her life at the bunker, and found a new normal.

Part 2: Sweet Dreams

Riley had fallen asleep, curled in one of the chairs in library.

The Winchesters had found a local occurrence they believed to be supernatural related. They'd prepared arguments on why she should stay at the bunker, but those had died on their tongues when she stated she'd rather stay behind.

Dean had hesitated for a moment, considering all the ways leaving their new…. Comrade? Friend? Weird supernatural being they kind of adopted? Pseudo sibling?...alone in the bunker. But considering not long ago they'd had a whole score of people from an alternate reality in the bunker; eh, there was no real danger. At least no more than normal. Plus they'd only be gone for a day, two at most. And heck, they'd been planning to convince her to stay anyway Dean had scrawled down their mother's number for her. "Just in case." He muttered.

They'd taken off around noon, and Riley spend the rest of the afternoon working. She started by drafting some legal documents she need to file with the court. Made a couple phone calls. It was surprising how easy it was to work her legal practice remote with some adjustments. Court appearances… well she'd fielded those to an associate who had a solo practice as well. The girl had been a classmate, and Riley respected her. Riley had proposed combining their practices and the girl, Tammy, had been thrilled with the idea. Which took that concern off her plate.

She made dinner then settled into the library with a stack of books Sam had suggested she read. The fact was, even if she didn't want to be hunter, she did need to get handle on the world she was now part of. Which was why she'd agreed to hand to hand training and other fun new extracurriculars.

The bunker was super quiet when by oneself. Riley put music on her phone, and let it play in the background as she read. An hour dragged by, then another, until eventually the words started to blur on the page and Riley fell asleep, head lolling against the back of the chair.

What should have probably been a fitful sleep, considering her position, was actually fairly deep. She didn't wake at the footsteps as someone entered the library. Nor when the book was removed from her lap. Nor when hands pressed a jacket over her form, tucking her in. Instead, she sank deeper into sleep, snuggling into the warm piece of clothing.

She thus missed the soft smile and hand that stroked her hair briefly. Or the sound of wings as the figure left the bunker.

Several hours later, Riley woke up realizing she'd fallen asleep on the chair. The bunker was still quiet, and glancing at her phone she realized it was late. Late enough her playlist had finished.

A text from Sam confirmed they'd be gone for the rest of night, and probably most of the next day. They'd found signs of a ghost they needed to salt and burn. Simple enough, but could still take time. Riley sighed, frowning at her phone, disconcerted that those terms actually made sense to her now.

There was also the disconcerting fact that if the boys were still gone, then someone else had been there.

The jacket that was lain over her like a blanket was testament to that. It was dark green and well worn. It also smelled nice, like sugar and a hint of something spicy. It reminded her of when she mixed cayenne and cinnamon into her hot chocolate. A blush tinged Riley's cheeks; even though she didn't 100% know it was his jacket, she hadn't met a single other being who smelled like sugar.

Plus…. She couldn't imagine Castiel doing it. Not that he wouldn't cover someone, but that he wouldn't part with any of his pieces of clothing. She'd thus far not seen him outside of his trench coat. Not that she'd seen him a whole lot.

Getting up, Riley shivered at the chilled air in the bunker. Shrugging, she slid the jacket on. It was big, but warm. And if he left it, well, she might as well use it till he stopped by again. She smiled.

Wandering toward her room she sent a quick prayer of thanks to the candy crazed archangel, wondering if he actually listened to prayers. If not, well…. She could always make cookies as thanks.

Part 3: Church

The second Sunday Riley was in the bunker, she realized it had been several weeks since she'd been to Church. Despite that fact that this new situation was strange, she still felt the urge to go. She had grown up in the Catholic Church, and it had been engrained in her to go.

Plus, it had always made her feel lighter. Had let her share her thoughts with God.

But, now knowing God, Chuck, wasn't actually anywhere near Earth was disheartening.
How did one pray when you truly knew God wasn't there? Which was why she hadn't been praying by the bed at night anymore. For years she'd pray before bed. But now….

What did one do when you in her situation?

Riley struggled with this, but for the most part put it in the back of her mind. She had enough to do that it was easy to pretend that there were burning questions she had about life and the universe, and her new place in it.

Part 4: Wings

Riley was wandering down the hall, running a brush through her wet hair as she did. The bathrooms were not exactly her favorite part of the bunker, due to the mirrors. Every time she caught sight of her own reflection she startled, her wings floating behind her.

Like her issues with Church, she also tried to forget her new appendages. Most of the time she could almost forget they were there. They didn't interact with anything on this plane of existence…. Apparently.

Sometimes they'd move of their own accord, curling around her when she was feeling scared or sad. Sometimes they'd flutter out, especially when she relaxed into the couch after a long day. Sometimes they unfurl to their full length, especially when she was putting her foot down, or when she laughed. Oh, and occasionally they hurt. It was like she was using a whole new set of muscles she'd let lie dormant for too long. Still, she could pretend they weren't there much of the time. And it wasn't like Sam or Dean could see them.

Riley was a bit disappointed in herself. As a child the superpower she'd most wanted had been to fly. But reality was….. unexpected. Her wings came along with a whole set of complications: powers, potential immorality, the ability to help protect the planet. None of which sounded particularly bad, but then you added in the stories the Winchesters had told her and it wasn't the prettiest of pictures. She really hoped she could avoid meeting any demons…. Like for forever.

So, Riley was happy to try to pretend she was normal. Which equaled pretending her new appendages were not there either. Even if it meant pretending that the possibility to fly wasn't within her finger…. Er…. Wingtips.

Lost in thought, Riley almost ran smack into Castiel. "Ah. Sorry!" She mumbled stepping backward.

"Riley." The angel had a deep and gruff voice.

"Hi Castiel. Did you just arrive or did you sleep here?"

"I don't sleep."

Riley forced a smile, and charged on, "Okay. Well, you sticking around for a while?"

"No. I came to talk to Dean about a lead."

"Jack?"

"No. The prophet."

"Cool. Cool." They stood in awkward silence for a moment. "I'm going to go make breakfast. Do you want some?"

"I don't need to eat."

"Sure, but food tastes good."

"Not all food tastes good."

"Well then, I'll just be in the kitchen if you change your mind. Dean was in his mancave last time I saw him."

He nodded solemnly. "I appreciate your assistance."

"Sure thing."

He passed her and wandered off to find Dean. Riley watched him go, still baffled by him. He was very….odd. Not unkind. Not unlikeable. Just… odd. Yeah, odd was really the only way to describe him. Though, she thought he'd kind of grow on her if he ever spent any length of time around.

She also needed to remind herself to ask Sam about his wings. They were damaged looking. She wondered how he flew with them. Maybe Gabriel would know. Though he might not tell her the actual truth if she asked. He sometimes seemed to embellish his explanations and stories. Yeah, Sam would probably be the best bet.

'Sigh, and now I'm thinking about wings again.' Behind her, Riley's wings furled around her, almost in sympathy for the painful looking damage to Cas's.

Part 5: Miss American Pie

Dean was smiling at her. Like a really real smile. It was a little freaky. That boy did not generally smile.

Apparently all it took was a sing along to classic rock, beer, and the offer of homemade pie.

Riley was slightly tipsy, being on her third beer. Dean had just broken out a bottle of something stronger and was crooning along to the music on the radio as he sat at the small kitchen table. Riley had a smudge of flour on the face, her hands buried in dough as she kneaded it before the process of rolling it out into crust.

It was a random week night. Sam had gone out to get some supplies, of the hunting variety. Apparently you could not have enough salt.

So Riley found herself alone with Dean, and with nothing much else to do, they opened a couple beers and put on the radio. After her first, his second, the idea of pie had come up, and so they'd found themselves drinking it the kitchen, singing along as Riley made pie.

Singing Bye Bye Miss American Pie

Drove My Chevy to the Levy but the Levy was Dry

Them Good Old Boys were Drinking Whiskey and Rye

Dean broke off as Riley carried on, just slightly off key. He chuckled, bemused. "You're like the song." Riley sent him a confused glance. "Rye."

"Uh huh."

"Like short for Riley. Rye." He grinned, please with this deduction. "And what was you called that a-hole angel again?"

Riley's gaze whipped up, surprised. "What? How? That was in confidence!" Riley flushed while Dean grinned again. "I was talking to Jody! How'd you even hear?"

Dean didn't answer that but said, "Oh whiskey eyed angel." He mimed a higher pitched voice and dreamy eyed stare.

Riley growled in indignation. "See if I finish this pie!"

"Rye…." He whined back.

Riley sighed, "I was telling Jody about the experience in my apartment."

Dean raised a brow, "It was an experience, huh?"

Riley groaned, "Not what I meant!" But she laughed anyway.

"Yeah yeah. Just kidding around kid. Though we really should talk about your taste in men."

Riley snorted. "Do we really want to talk about my taste? Cause we can compare notes?" Smiling smartly, "So, how do you feel about Cas?"

Dean made a choking sound and almost spit out his liquor, "Nope. Not going there."

"Sam was telling me some interesting things the other day. Like, I heard he only comes when you call."

"Cas comes when he wants."

"Do you want him to come?" She grinned wickedly.

Dean sputtered, "That's not what I meant!"

"Then no teasing about you know who."

"Whiskey?"

Riley sighed, and threw a piece of dough at Dean's face, hitting him smack dab in the forehead. "Singing this will be the day that I die."

"From the top!" Dean shouted, taking another swig from his glass.

And the two started again, laughing through the lyrics.

Singing Bye Bye Miss American Pie

Drove My Chevy to the Levy but the Levy was Dry

Them Good Old Boys were Drinking Whiskey and Rye

Sam found them later, a half empty pie tin between them, and several more drinks down, giggling about…. Something to do whether angels were born smelling like sex… He wasn't quite sure what he'd walked in on, but he really didn't want to know.

Part 6: Theology

Gabriel had started showing up at the bunker after her second full week there.

Dean and Sam were not thrilled, but they had no real reason to kick him out. He still popped back to Heaven often, but he kept appearing at the bunker. It had started out really nice for Riley. But sometimes it seemed he made it mission to drive her crazy. Like now. While she was trying to work.

Apparently, Gabriel was a trickster through and through. She hadn't experienced it before, but once he started spending so much time hanging around, it definitely came out. Like when he'd turned all the beer in the bridge to sugar water. Dean had not been happy. Heck, she hadn't been happy. Though it had been amusing to see Dean do a literal spit take.

At the moment Gabriel was annoying just her though. He was sitting on the table, staring at her, arms resting on his legs, head cradled in his hands, giving her sweet eyes. "Pleasssssssssssse."

'Is it a sin to want to strangle an angel?' Riley thought.

She was trying to write a brief but he just kept staring, and occasion would reach out and tug at her hair begging for her to pay attention to him. "Play a game with me."

She didn't respond at first. But apparently ignoring him made things worse, as he inched closer and leaned over so he was blocking the screen of her computer. She glanced at him, frowning, "Later."

"Come on, pixie stick, can't you take a break? I'll make it worth your while." This time, the look he gave her was far from innocent.

Riley arched a brow, but internally she felt flustered. On occasion he'd get this look that made you melt and get warm in all the right places. Like whatever was on the receiving end of that look would end up pressed up against the nearest wall being thoroughly ravished. 'Forget strangle, is it a sin to want to a jump an angel?' She wondered if he knew what that look did to a person.

A slow smile spread across Gabriel's face, one that Riley swore had to do with what she'd been thinking. Yeah, he knew what that looked did. Also, could he hear thoughts? She groaned, hoping he couldn't.

"Go bug the boys for a while. Didn't you want to test out that new color changing shampoo on Sam?" Gabriel had a habit of playing a trick or two on Sam and Dean whenever possible. Her favorite thus far had been when all of Sam and Dean's clothes had gone missing except for a single pair of boxers each. Sam's had mooses and Dean's had squirrels. It was both hilarious and provided Riley some great eye candy. Even if she had no romantic inclinations toward the boys she could still appreciate their fine physique. The clothes were eventually located in the Impala, folded into intricate origami creations.

Gabriel slid off the table with a sigh, "Good thing you're so cute, sweat tart. I'll go play with the boys. But poker later." There was that look again, the one that had her knees going weak. "Strip poker". With that he disappeared.

Riley groaned, she had the sudden urge to go to church and have a theological discussion with her priest about angels and whether it would be a sin to strangle one. But then, he'd probably have her committed if she confessed everything. Especially if she mentioned her desires ranged from wanting to either kill an archangel or screw him silly.

'Nope, strangle. Definitely want to strangle.'

Gabriel's laughter echoed from someone off in the bunker.