Lying naked in the Winchester's bed in his motel room, he wrapped his arm around the angel's slender body and pulled her against his. Burying her nose in the crook of his neck, Phaliel curled up against him. They listened to the rhythm of their hearts and breathing, enjoying this moment of pleasant silence together.
Dean's lips had found the angel's the second they saw each other. He had grabbed her hips and pushed her against the nearest wall, causing her to jump and moan as he kissed her like his life depended on it.
Dean could have taken that beautiful angel right there against that wall because he had only one desire.
Layers of clothing had fallen off, and they had found themselves on the bed moaning each other's names and always wanting more contact.
''If we are going to do this regularly, we should set conditions.''
''What for?''
Not being the first time he had a friend with benefits relationship, Dean explained it to her as best he could.
''See, humans tend to want to set conditions when they see someone else only for sex like we do.''
Seeing that the angel didn't answer, Dean continued, silently staring at her face, almost as if to see what she wanted from him.
''Every dynamic is different. For us, it can be to have the right to continue to see other people.''
Phaliel stared at him and listened attentively in silence, letting him express himself as he wished.
''I mean...''
"I understand," she replied before he said anything else, a slight smile on her lips.
Dean would be screwed if Phaliel wanted a serious relationship with him because he wasn't really ready to settle down.
They had only known each other for a few months. Dean still had doubts about Phaliel's intentions, as the number of angels he could trust was limited.
It had worked more or less well with Cassie and Lisa. Although he liked women a little too much, Dean wasn't a motherfucker, eh, he was capable of being faithful.
His lifestyle was not exactly the most stable and safe, so it was best not to get into a relationship with anyone for the moment.
''We should be able to stop seeing each other if it ever becomes difficult for any reason.''
Dean nodded gently. He could understand that. One of the most common reasons for stopping seeing each other was because one of the two parties had developed feelings that went far deeper than just friendship. What about angels? Could they do it? Probably. Didn't they possess the body of a human being, right?
''I'm not ready to be a father right now.''
''All right.''
Phaliel had given him a slight smile and a nod that he had returned.
"Would you like me to use my magic so that doesn't happen?"
"Yes, if it's not too much to ask because condoms are weird with an angel.''
The latter burst out laughing and Dean's smile and eyes lit up like stars when he heard the sweet sound in his ears.
The Winchester had brought his face closer to Phaliel's and had held her gaze, suddenly becoming serious.
''We don't have to always fuck when we see each other and... We have the right to say no when we don't like something.''
"Okay," she replied, a broad smile on her lips, and she leaned to give him a kiss.
The two young people had continued to see each other like this several times a week, faithful to their rules in place. Dean and Phaliel were available and couldn't keep their hands and lips to themselves for a single second when they saw each other. Why couldn't they see each other as many times as they wished?
There were a few times when Dean had tried to pick up other women and had not felt sexual chemistry with them. Frustrated that he had not managed to have them in his bed, Phaliel was often the first woman who crossed his mind when this happened, and she accepted, happy to see him again.
Other times, they threw themselves into each other's arms at the very moment they saw each other and went wildly, or they moved closer to each other after broaching a delicate subject and took their time.
Dean also knew that the woman who shared his bed was there for him. He sometimes dared to explain to her what bothered him. The angel asked him questions about it and showed him her support by listening to him and offering him encouraging and soothing words.
Never in his life had he seen an angel as warm and attentive as she was, and it freaked him out how vulnerable she allowed him to be. Opening up in this way was super uncomfortable and foreign. How should he go about it? Could he trust her completely?
He had already told her things like "It's okay, keep your psychology to yourself". Dean quickly corrected himself when he saw her eyes tear up and turn away, suddenly looking nervous. He had wounded her. No, but what an idiot.
Showing what Dean felt deep in his heart was too personal for his liking.
To be vulnerable meant to risk being hurt, to be betrayed, to be disappointed, and to let others see that under his armor he felt something.
Precisely, they had broached the subject of Sam and Phaliel had done just that, listen to him.
''I have the impression that I saw him hesitate to save me. I wonder... I wonder if he didn't let me turn into one of them.''
"Given what you're telling me, I don't think Sam has his soul.''
This time, instead of contacting the angel to vent a desie, Dean had done so to discuss with her about something that bothered him about Sam. Sitting at a table across from each other on a windowsill in his room, the angel had put a hand on his forearm as Dean opened up to her.
The hunter had completed a vampire hunt with his brother and grandfather Samuel, having been transformed into one of these monsters and healed.
''What?''
"He came back without his soul," she repeated softly.
''That explains...'' Dean shook his head, unable to say anything at the time. ''Lots of stuff.''
''That he sleeps and eats little and that he resonates without his conscience.''
''That he can kill without remorse.''
''There you go.''
Dean had looked up at Phaliel and held her gaze, a shiver running down his skin as her hand touched his skin.
Later, with Castiel's help, Dean understood that he was the one who had given him his brother back. The intention was there, but there was another problem to deal with.
It was now necessary to give it back to him.
What mess had they gotten themselves into again?
The hunter continued to hunt. He needed to do it to keep his mind of this mess. This devotion caused him to see her once more. This time, it was outside his room.
He and Sam were passing through Lebanon, Kansas, and had found a very interesting case.
Super! It was the perfect opportunity for them to see each other again. Dean would never admit that to Sam, who wouldn't let go of it for a minute if he knew.
There were murders of patients in the city's hospital in the space of a few days and no one could explain why. They died at night and almost all of them in their rooms. It was strange enough that even the hospital staff noticed.
''I'm going to go and ask the hospital psychologist. You, why don't you go and take care of the other staff members.''
''And why her exactly?'' Sam replied with a slight smile on his lips.
''Well, because she must have had contact with the patients, right?''
"Yes, probably... Or it's because you can't think with your upstairs brain for a minute.''
"Sammy, you're not funny," laughed Dean, a slight smile on his lips.
When he found out that Phaliel worked at the hospital, he had a hard time not thinking about her.
They finished adjusting their FBI special agent clothes in front of a mirror in their room in a motel in the city and drove to the hospital.
''Meet me at the motel after we're finished here?'' Dean asked as they met at the front desk.
''All right. Oh, and Dean... I know you want to get laid.''
Is that... Did that mean Sam knew about her and him?
"Shut up, Sam. Well, see you later," Dean replied as he walked past his brother to pretend to be Agent Holt.
Everything worked well so far. The hunter managed to infiltrate the hospital without attracting suspicion on him. A receptionist then took him to the office of the treating psychologist who followed the victims. Apparently, the latter had been followed for mental health disorders.
Behind the door to her workspace, the angel Dean had a hard time getting out of his head was sitting at a dark brown wooden desk and a black leather chair.
"An FBI agent wants to see you, Ms. Adams!"
"Yes, let him in," she replied.
That voice... Dean's stomach knotted as he heard the angel's voice.
The moment the receptionist opened the door to Phaliel's office, their eyes met and their breaths were taken away.
''Special Agent Holt, FBI. I have a few questions for you about the recent events in the hospital.''
''Agent Holt.''
Phaliel had emphasized the last name of the man in front of her, making it clear that she knew about his game. A heavy, crushing and embarrassing silence had settled between them. Quickly, the receptionist had to leave before she realized anything.
''You can leave us. Thank you.''
Whew. Luckily Phaliel told her she could leave them, otherwise she might have noticed that Dean and Phaliel already seemed to know each other. After the woman closed the door behind her, the two turned to each other.
''Holt? Oh, really?'' Phaliel raised an eyebrow with an amused look, a slight mocking smile on her lips. ''I much prefer Winchester.''
''I prefer to keep my name for people I'm really close to, if you know what I mean.''
"Very funny, Dean." she laughed.
Phaliel didn't expect to see Dean dressed in a suit that hugged his square, muscular stature. Apart from a white shirt tucked neatly into his pants, a dark blue tie, the rest of his clothes were black. They fit the curves of the Winchester perfectly.
His tie around his neck was starting to seriously itch. He raised a hand to relieve himself and tried to distract himself a little from the inappropriate thoughts he had about this angel in front of him.
Dean would have fucked her right way on her desk if he could.
Feeling his skin burning and a desire building up in his lower stomach, Dean coughed and tried to redirect his gaze elsewhere. Phaliel blinked and looked away as she remembered the way Dean had kissed and touched her the last time they had seen each other, wanting him to do it again and knowing that this was not the place or the time.
''You wanted to discuss the deaths in the hospital. I'm listening to you," she said, sinking into the back of her chair behind her desk to calm down a little.
Dean's mouth dried up, and he blamed himself for forgetting his flask of alcohol in the impala. Shit. Regaining a little more composure, he approached the woman in front of him and took a seat on a chair in front of the desk.
''Hm... For the deaths, yes. I managed to get my hands on these files. The only thing they had in common seems to be the fact that they all suffered from depression.''
He had left files in front of the angel so that she could examine them and tell him what she thought of them. The hunter opened the files to the correct pages and noticed that they had all consulted a certain P. Adams at some point. It was strange because for many of them it was a long time ago.
''Hey, that's weird. P. Adams?''
The angel moved closer and observed the files closely. Looking at the signature, she knew it was hers.
''This is me. Adams is the last name of my vessel. I, too, have the right to false names, you know." She smirked.
Her expression changed immediately.
''I have nothing to do with it. You have to believe me, Dean.''
The angel rose from her chair and began to pace back and forth. She didn't know anything about this mess. Would Dean believe her responsible for the murders? She deduced that he trusted her at least a little because he had revealed things to her that he had never told anyone.
Oh, so she was the treating psychologist! She seemed to think that Dean would think she was responsible, and it made him frown as he watched her pacing around the room. He really didn't expect her to react that way. The angels had funny ways of behaving.
A part of him couldn't help but devour her with his eyes even though it was really not the place or time. It was that this black skirt reaching to her knees hugged her curves well. The slight neckline of her white blouse gave a glimpse of what was hidden in it. Her high heels, the same color as her skirt, clicked the floor as she walked back and forth around the room. The shoes gave her a nice foot and lengthened her legs. There was something sexy about hearing a woman walk in high heels.
Dean could feel his cock hardening in his pants as he bit on his lower lip.
That would mess up his investigation.
A little countenance, Dean, come on!
Phaliel stopped walking, turned to Dean and calmly said:
''Were there magnetic waves? Did people feel cold spots? Was there sulfur at the scene?''
There were a lot of questions, but Phaliel needed to know. To regulars, maybe they were routine issues, but to normal people, she would look like she deserved her place in the hospital in the psychiatric wing.
Dean came out of his contemplation and blinked several times, giving himself a good mental slap.
''I haven't been able to go see the rooms and scan the place yet.''
If he had started walking around with the magnetic wave reader, it would have attracted far too much attention.
''We need to go back to the rooms. I can't sit here and wait for the doctors to do their job. We must do it.''
It was supernatural. Humans and doctors would no doubt find a scientific excuse for their sudden death.
Dean was surprised at how much the woman in front of him felt the need to help the hospital. On top of that, she had a humor dripping with sarcasm that reminded him of his own. It was admirable. She seemed to have a strength of character of her own, and he couldn't help but smile softly.
The Winchester nodded, picked up his things, and got up from the chair. He then walked to the office door and turned around to make sure she was following.
Phaliel walked past it, but as she walked through the doorway, her upper body had brushed against Dean's. He swallowed hard and held his breath as the feeling of heat and pressure in his lower stomach came back at full speed. What was that? She didn't even react, and he deduced that she didn't even realize what she was doing. Dean did everything he could not to give in to the only thing he wanted, something that could ruin the whole thing.
So, they had started to walk in the corridors to reach the patients' rooms. It was at this moment that at the corner of a corridor a patient bumped into Dean and continued on his way without looking at him or apologizing.
Phaliel noticed that the patient's veins were much darker and more prominent than normal.
''And politeness, no one taught you that?!'' Dean hailed to the person who had run straight at him.
He shook his head and went on his way. Arriving at the patient's room indicated in the file he was holding, Dean made sure that no one was there, took out his magnetic wave reader and began to scan the room.
''It reacts.''
The angel, meanwhile, looked around at the white tile floor, the walls, and the supplies. There was nothing abnormal.
As Dean's back was turned, Phaliel's eyes detailed him from top to bottom. No, but this suit fitted him perfectly!
She then kneeled on the floor to examine under the bed.
Dean looked up from his reader and glanced at the angel's ass, which was well-defined, round, and close to the floor with a skirt that might give a glimpse of what she was wearing. His eyes went up to rest on her slight cleavage revealing the top of her chest.
It was then that she noticed a slimy and black substance. It was not jelly or any leftover jell-o. It was something else that even doctors and scientists could not identify.
"Hey, Dean, there's ectoplasm around here," she said as she stood up.
The latter could not help but detail the movement of her hips, her ass and her legs which unfolded as she stood up. Fucking clothes always there to piss him off!
The angel was seized with vertigo the second she was on her feet. She could detect a dark energy in the room, a little less than demons. It was filled with hatred, resentment and madness. Extremely unstable.
However, if she concentrated, Phaliel could detect another. This one was a little less gloomy and filled with sadness as well as pity.
She therefore deduced that there were two entities. Only time would tell whether she could detect these energies in all the rooms of the patients who were killed.
Dean walked up to Phaliel, and she looked up at him.
''I don't think it's your fault. There is clearly a ghost in this hospital, now we have to know why it is doing this and who he is. I need to go to the morgue, to see if the ghost leaves a mark.''
"You know, the man who ran at you? His veins were darker than normal. Good idea for the morgue. I'm going to need these documents," she said, holding out a hand to take the papers.
When she took them, her fingers closed around Dean's. A delicious shiver ran down Dean and Phaliel's backs as their fingers made contact.
''I also felt two different energies in the room. If you ask me, I think we are dealing with two entities.''
He offered her a smile that was meant to be reassuring and said:
''We will find them; all these murders will stop. Trust me.''
"I trust you," she said while smiling back at him.
They left the room and after taking one last look around, the hunter turned back to her before leaving.
"While I'm going to the morgue, you can go on your own. You'll surely see better than me with your angelic senses. We meet at the front once it's done.''
Dean really didn't intend to give orders, but let's just say that by working with Sam, he has come to tend to be quite a leader and direct.
The two walked together through the corridors to a door leading to a refrigerated area where the corpses of deceased people were stored, and autopsies were performed.
"This is where I leave you," said Phaliel, putting a hand on his shoulder before slipping away to the other rooms, taking the documents with her.
Dean nodded when she said these words to him, entered the place and found that it was empty. He put on gloves and opened one of the drawers containing one of the victims, looking for any mark. The Winchester looked at the back of his neck, his ears, his forehead, his torso... any place that may contain a mark.
After several minutes of searching, he noticed that there was a slight notch, barely perceptible at the level of the fold of the arm, as if a needle had been inserted there. Not sure if the patient had been on IV before his death, Dean went to get the documents concerning the corpse and noticed that it had not been treated for anything.
So, he went around all the other corpses to see if they had the same mark and concluded that this was the mark of the spirit. Who knew now how a prick mark was really going to help him...
Dean had also noticed ectoplasm residue in his ears and a little in his nose, but nothing that could give him any clue about the entities that were wandering around the hospital.
After going round the rooms, the angel had noticed the same thing as in the first. Ectoplasm and two different energies. Judging that she had enough evidence to come to this conclusion, Phaliel went to the reception area, where Dean had arranged to meet her.
Having enough information, Dean took off his gloves, threw them in the trash and went back up to the reception to join Phaliel who was already waiting for him.
A strange feeling of defeat suddenly invaded him for no apparent reason, as if he no longer had any grip on the barrier, he put in place to separate his work and his emotions. Dean had to make an almost superhuman effort to regain his composure and avoid screwing up.
''I didn't find much at the morgue... just a notch, like a prick at the elbow. Have you been able to confirm the theory of the two entities?''
Not wanting the hospital staff and other patients to call them crazy, the angel led him down a hallway to an empty room. There, at least, they could speak discreetly, away from prying ears.
"Yes, I was able to confirm the theory," she said, approaching him to stop at his level.
Dean felt a little nervous, though he tried to hide it. He was fine though, a few moments earlier... What the hell was that?
''Do you have any idea who or what it could be?''
To be honest, Phaliel had no idea at the time. There must have been a link with the two entities, the dead people, their medical histories... Unless... Of course!
She put a hand on Dean's shoulder, seeing on his face that his facial expressions were changing.
''What if the spectrum attacks people with mental illnesses such as depression, schizophrenia, bipolarity, psychosis, anxiety? All the people found dead were my patients, and I treated them for these types of illness.''
It made sense when you thought about it. All the deceased, without exception, were diagnosed with mental illnesses of this kind. They were mood or personality disorders that could freak out more than one given their nature.
Dean tilted his head to look at his feet, muttering something like this, "What if the dead actually killed themselves?"
He wanted to slap himself to get back to his senses, but he would have looked even more stupid than he already was. After all, he was crazy to pretend to be an FBI agent! Maybe all this was in his head since he was a child?
Suddenly he raised his head and stared at Phaliel.
''... Are angels real? I'm asking this because we're in a psychiatric hospital... and that maybe, I mean maybe... that all this is in my head...?''
Phaliel frowned. What was going on? Suddenly, she noticed that the veins in his neck were starting to be a much darker shade than normal. Had he been infected by what was going on in the hospital?
He put both hands on her shoulders, staring into her eyes.
''Tell me I'm not insane!''
''Angels are real. I may be in the body of a human, but I'm real, Dean.''
The angel raised a hand and placed it on the man's cheek in front of her in attempt to calm him down.
''I have an idea. We know what the spectrum does, but we don't know what the other entity wants. What if... one of us stayed awake tonight to see what will happen? This way, we will know what they want, and we can eliminate them so that they do no more damage.''
''It's an idea, yes.''
The angel wrapped her arms around Dean to give him some support, feeling that he was changing, that he was no longer himself. The Winchester had turned the gesture around, resting its head on hers. Who knows why the mere presence of this woman calmed the storm that was raging in his heart and head, as if, for a little while, everything would be fine.
He had enough information to discuss with Sam his discoveries and see what he had managed to find about this story.
Maybe in fact Dean was trying to separate himself from the angel to calm his head that wanted to explode at him. He couldn't say what it was, but this angel had something different and pleasant at the same time to freak him out like no other. If he didn't distance himself, he might close the door behind them and take what he wanted with her.
No, he had to detach himself from her, put some distance between them and see with his brother where he was on the case on his side.
Phaliel stayed like this for a while, waiting for him to calm down before detaching herself from him.
''We can meet later to come up with a plan? I have to go and meet Sam at the reception. He must probably be waiting for me there already.''
The angel's heart sank in her stomach.
She could have spent hours like that in his arms.
They had to leave each other because it could turn out to be super dangerous.
''No problem. See you later.'' She smiled before leaving the hunter and going to her office.
Dean sighed and closed his eyes when she was out of sight. What was all that? God dammit, that woman made him lose his mind!
As for the angel, she had just closed the door of her office, leaned on it, and shook her head, confused about how she had felt earlier.
Why had her heart burst to pieces when she heard him tell her that he had to go and join Sam? Why was it that being near him was so... natural? Why wasn't she able to handle it if he wasn't okay? And above all, why did she so desperately want him to do whatever he wanted with her?
