Chapter Text
You grasp the hem of your blouse and pull it just enough to see the blood stains on it, which makes you sneer angrily at the bloodied corpse on the ground.
“Impressive, but you wasted too much time showing off,” Naomi says. “Time is crucial, Y/N. This one will be more difficult. Will you be able to handle it?”
You twirl your angel blade as a response and she waves her hand. Sam steps out from behind a pillar, looking around wildly.
“Y/N, what’s—”
Your eyes narrow and you clench your jaw.
“Y/N, wait, let’s talk this through!” the hunter yelps, holding out a hand as you advance. You wave your hand and he crashes against the pillar and slumps to the ground. “Y/N, come on—this isn’t you—”
Naomi’s eyes narrow when she sees your feet falter.
You clench your fist and Sam gasps, doubling over as his ribs start to crack, one by one. He coughs and blood dribbles out of his mouth. “Y/N—”
You crouch by your ex-lover’s broken, crumpled body and raise your arm.
Sam smiles at you, his hand reaching out for you. He grasps your blouse, pulling you closer. “It’s fine, Y/N. It’s fine.”
Your hand trembles but stays in place.
Naomi sighs and rolls her eyes as your blade clatters to the ground. She snaps her fingers and Sam disappears, leaving you reaching out for nothing and looking around wildly. “Unacceptable, Y/N. I thought killing your vessel would make you more comfortable with it being your body—only yours—but apparently not.”
Cas shows up at the bunker with a bloody face, clenching his angel blade so tightly that he can’t let go immediately.
“Cas!” Dean scrambles to his feet. The yell brings Sam running and he skids into the room, a wild look on his face as he looks everywhere around the angel except actually at him, obviously looking for something.
“I found Y/N,” the angel grits out, collapsing into a nearby chair.
Sam looks at the ceiling and blows out a relieved breath. He’s so relieved he could cry. You’d disappeared nearly three weeks ago and nobody’s heard anything from you since.
“So then where is she?” Dean asks, looking up at the bunker’s door as if you’re just a few minutes behind Cas and you’ll walk through the doors wearing your traditional sweatpants and t-shirt.
“Not coming, hopefully,” the angel replies. “Just to be safe…” He waves his hand and for a second, all the runes etched into the bunker’s skeleton glow. “There. Now she’s warded out.”
“Why do you say that, Cas?” Sam asks, sitting next to him as he starts to heal his vessel’s injuries. “How’d you get hurt?”
“Y/N,” he replies, gritting his teeth. “She’s been reprogrammed.”
Sam and Dean exchange looks. They don’t know what that means, exactly, but Sam can tell that he’s not going to like it.
Dean sits next to Cas as well. “You’re gonna have to give us a little more than that, buddy.”
“Do you remember when Naomi was…” Cas looks around as if the walls will have writing on them for answers, but the only thing he sees are the familiar wardings.
“Controlling you?” Dean puts in and Cas grasps onto the words gratefully, as if they’ll erase what he did. Something that takes the blame off him for even a few moments is a relief.
“Yes. Well, if would appear she is still… taking angels’ memories and putting them through the vigorous training she put me through,” Cas says, wincing at the memory of all those Deans he’d killed.
“Y/N,” Sam gasps and drags his hand down his face.
“And she did this to you?”
Cas sits up straighter now that he’s fully healed. “Correct. I believe Naomi has been altering certain details of Y/N’s memories of you and Sam. Particularly Sam.”
“Why ‘particularly’?”
Cas raises an eyebrow at Dean. “Their relationship, of course.”
“But… Sam wasn’t the one who made her rebel!” Dean exclaims. “She rebelled long before Sam and I were born!”
You were one of God’s chosen, one of the particularly powerful angels that weren’t quite archangels but nearly as terrifying as them. You, in particular, had amassed a reputation for being ruthless and a skilled fighter as well as possessing an unusual amount of grace.
God had given you almost twice the normal amount of grace after multiple missions where you had rebelled, instead of punishing you. It had surprised all the angels and some dissent was spreading among the ranks as well as personal grudges toward you.
So you’d flipped everyone the bird, giggling as you ran away from heaven (with God’s blessing, not that anyone knew, because you were one of the few angels that didn’t just follow heaven and actively tried to protect the poor, pathetic humans), and killed all the angels, demons, and monsters that attacked you.
You’d stayed in the vessel of a poor girl that almost died during a cold night alone on a prairie for centuries, sometimes retreating into the back of her mind and letting her out to marvel at the improvements in technology, and took good care of her until she withered, wanting to rest in heaven, and you moved on to your second vessel, a girl that had been praying for protection from an abusive husband nearly twenty years older than her.
She’d died and you’d fled from your failed attempt at protection for one or two centuries before emerging again, quickly becoming known throughout the underground monster society as someone not to mess with. You weren’t a hunter; you never actively sought out a fight with a monster.
Your prey were human.
“Well, yes,” Cas says. “But she’s grown attached to him, and now he’s an obstacle in Y/N’s mind that Naomi has to overcome. You, Dean, are also one, but one that is significantly easier to clear.”
Sam puts his head in his hands and shakes it. “So what did Naomi do to Y/N, Cas?”
“Y/N has had to endure a rigorous training and recalibration of her brain. Unlike when Naomi tried it with me, Y/N is not to stay as far away from you as possible.”
“That’s sort of… dumb, especially if Sam and Y/N get together again,” Dean frowns.
“Sam, you are Y/N’s first mission after Naomi finishes her training,” Cas says loudly. “She’ll not take pity on you.” He gestures at his body. “The one thing Y/N has always prized over everything else is her mind and free will. Now that Naomi’s taken that away, she’s created a ticking time bomb that is hellbent on killing you, and probably anyone near you.”
“There’s a reason absolute monarchs are able to keep their power, and it’s not because their subjects are just that psyched about their rule. It’s all about the cavalry.”
Sam presses the demon knife harder against Crowley’s neck. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that I have a bit of a personal guard that would be a bit displeased to see me gone.”
The knife flies out of Sam’s hand and into the grasp of a stunningly pretty girl with a ponytail wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants. She waves her hand and Sam sits down heavily onto a chair that had scooted across the floor on its own. She grins at Sam and steps further into the light of Crowley’s chambers so that he can see a blood splatter above the girl’s left eyebrow.
“I’d rather you not kill him,” you say in a clear, high voice that surprises Sam even though it matches your appearance. He can tell that you’re an extremely powerful demon already.
“And who are you?” he spits, trying not to visibly struggle against the force holding him down.
“That’s not very important,” you shrug and toss the knife to Crowley. He smirks at Sam.
“Are you going to kill me?”
You giggle and look at Crowley, who raises his eyebrows. “You didn’t say he was dumb!”
Sam grunts, offended but not willing to piss off this new threat even more.
“Honey, why would I kill you?” you ask. “I just don’t want you to kill Crowley. If you think demons are bad now, you should see them without a ruler. Besides, we have a few… arrangements.” An angel blade falls into your hand from your sleeve and Sam’s eyes widen.
“You’re an angel?”
“Well, demons can carry these blades too,” you say. “But yes.” You point it at his neck. “Now I’d like to speak with Castiel.”
“Why?” Sam asks suspiciously.
“Angel business,” is all you say. Without any work of his own doing, his body gets up and starts to walk out the door. “Bye, Crowley!” you call over your shoulder. “I’ll drop by sometime tomorrow, provided these imbeciles don’t take too long.”
“He won’t be going anywhere,” Crowley replies. “Bye, darling.”
Sam blinks and you and he are standing in the bunker by the world map along with Dean. When he can move on his own, he stumbles over to his brother, who holds an angel blade out threateningly to you. After a second, Sam draws a gun on you that won’t do any good, half-surprised when you don’t stop him from taking it out.
“Well, we haven’t exactly started off on the right foot,” you start.
“Sam, what’s going on?” Dean mutters.
“I have no idea,” Sam responds.
“Now, I won’t ask again: where is Castiel?”
“What do you want with Cas?”
You don’t respond. Instead, you mime throwing your angel blade, making both hunters wince. “Do you think he’d come if his precious humans were in trouble? Deadly trouble?”
“Look, all I can say is that if you don’t put that knife down you won’t be alive long enough for Cas to get back,” Dean barks.
You hold up your hands and let the knife fall down into your sleeve. “Fine.” Your eyes glow and both hunters wince. Nothing happens to them, though. When the glow fades, the smirk that adorns your face isn’t one that gives Sam a good feeling. “There, I’ve called him. Do you think his angel radio is on? He can turn that on, but he can’t quite…” You cock your head and flick your fingers to the side like you’re flipping a switch. “He can’t quite turn off the prayers directed toward him, and if the radio is off, he’ll only be able to hear you more clearly.”
“You still haven’t said what you want from Cas,” Dean says.
“I want to have a little chat with him.”
“If that’s all you want, I’m sure you won’t have a problem with wearing some angel handcuffs and staying in our dungeon until Cas arrives.”
You laugh and Sam flinches. “Oh, I do. I really do. See, I’ve heard stories about you two. The Winchesters . You pretend to be hunters, don’t you? You say you only want to help, but oh so many people—and I’m using that term lightly—have been burned by you. ‘Oh, wear these handcuffs until Cas arrives. Now wear them until you leave. Now, we need you and you don’t want to help so we’ll just lock you in the dungeon until you change your mind’.”
Dean shrugs and whispers to Sam, “She’s got a point.”
“Never mind that, just—” Sam puts the gun on the table carefully. “Dean, put it down.”
“What?”
“Just put it down,” Sam hisses. You watch the brothers with amusement. “We won’t be able to kill her before she kills us, so why piss her off?”
“God, Sam, every time,” Dean mutters.
“What?”
Dean rolls his eyes but puts the blade on the table as well. “Well, fair’s fair, bitch. Put your weapons down too.”
“Don’t insult me,” you snap. Sam and Dean take a step back. “I’m in enemy territory, of course I’ll be packing. Of course, I can’t really put all my weapons on the table, considering I am one.” You smile smugly. “Hey! That was good!”
Sam and Dean exchange glances.
“Sorry, Kara’s saying something.” You hold up a finger and turn away from them. “No, not now. Maybe later.”
You turn around, tossing your hair, and smile. “Humans, you know how they are. Always curious.”
Sam narrows his eyes. “You weren’t… talking to your vessel, were you?”
With a smile and a shrug, you confirm his suspicions. “You know, most of the angels you’ve met are completely bastards. They bury their bitches. Why?” You shake your head. “What is taking Castiel so long?”
Dean holds up a pair of handcuffs.
You roll your eyes but let the Winchesters put them on you. “Will Castiel be long?” you ask. “I’ve missed him oh so much.”
“Down to the dungeon, bitch,” Dean says.
You sigh and start to walk but stop abruptly when he tries to drag you. Dean tries to jerk you back into walking but can’t. “I’ve been very polite so far, Winchester. I’d hate to accidentally bring down this entire bunker on these handcuffs so I can do some more damage.”
Sam grabs Dean’s hand off your sweatshirt.
“Oh, can we bring a mirror as well?” you say conversationally. “It’s much easier to talk that way.”
“I think she’s insane,” Dean murmurs to Sam. Sam shrugs and grabs a mirror off the wall as they pass it. “Hey! Don’t give her what she wants, Sam!”
“Oh, Dean, you really don’t know anything about sucking up to people with more power than you,” you say, sing-song, and flash a smile over your shoulder at Sam like you know exactly what he’s thinking.
You stop at the dungeon door and smile at Dean.
“What?” he finally snaps.
“Well, are you going to open the door for me? It’s the gentlemanly thing to do.”
Dean looks at Sam, who just raises his eyebrows at him.
“Fine,” he grits out and opens the door, even gesturing for you enter. “Sam, don’t give her the mirror.”
“Hmm?” Sam asks, handing you the mirror.
“Aw, Sam, so thoughtful. You know, if I have to kill you, I might even feel bad about it,” you smile and take the mirror. “I’d do it quickly, at least. Dean, you should be nicer to me.”
“Huh, wonder why I’m not nicer to the bitch that’s threatening to kill me and my brother!” Dean barks.
“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes. “That doesn’t matter at all, now does it?” You walk further into the dungeon.
“She reminds me a lot of Ruby,” Dean mutters, eyeing you with trepidation. You wave sarcastically. “You’re sure she’s not a demon? Just…” Dean pulls Sam out of their dungeon and shivers. “She gives me the creeps. She really reminds me of Ruby.”
“I mean, she has used a lot of angel powers, and her eyes glowed instead of changing color. You know? Plus, she walked through a bunch of devil’s traps.”
“Until Cas gets here, I vote we leave her be,” Dean says. “Like I said, she reminds me of Ruby.” In an attempt to lighten the situation, he jokes, “Make sure you don’t fall for her, Sammy!”
“Oh, trust me,” Sam says, “that won’t be a problem.” He’s not sure if that’s a lie. Dean’s right; he does seem to have a thing for monsters, and your attitude is something that, if you were a human, would have him stumbling over his words. Now, he’s not sure if he wants to learn more about you or kill you before you can say anything else.
Cas is waiting for them by the map. “Why was Y/N calling for me? She said she was here, which was obviously a lie, but I still had to check. Is—”
“Well, someone that says she’s an angel named Y/N is here,” Dean says. Cas’s eyes widen. “Sam, you alright?”
Sam shrugs. He feels a little punch-drunk. “I think I’m just tired. I guess trying to kill Crowley really takes it out of you.”
“You wanna sit this one out?”
Sam shakes his head. He doesn’t want to wake up and see Dean carrying yet another corpse out of the bunker. You haven’t done anything to them. Not really. And Dean’s already out for blood. “I’m fine.”
Cas asks, “If it really is Y/N, how are the two of you alive?”
“Well, Dean, how’d you break Naomi’s control over Cas?” Sam asks, leaning back in his chair so far it might tip. Honestly, he’s not even surprised the best thing in his life has turned to shit again. That’s just how it goes for hunters, right? Especially him and Dean.
“Ask Cas,” Dean shrugs.
“Dean and I have a… more profound bond, similar to the one you and Y/N share,” Cas says solemnly. “It is against an angel’s nature to break bonds such as those.”
“Great!” Dean sits up. “So, what? We do what you and me did? Drop Sam somewhere near Y/N? She’ll rough him up a little bit, but he’ll be fine, and then we’ll have Y/N back, right?”
“I fear Naomi has perfected her practice,” Cas says. “Angels are very persistent and constantly striving for improvement. As long as Y/N’s mission contradicts with her nature and her bond with Sam, she will be erratic and unpredictable. Destructive.”
“What do you propose we do, then?” Sam asks.
Cas looks at them solemnly. “Sam, I believe you should stay here as your brother and I track down Y/N.” It’s not an actual answer and everyone knows it.
Sam clenches his fist and has to strain not to slam it to the table; instead he lowers it so slowly they can all see that he’s close to breaking. When he speaks, it’s through gritted teeth. “Cas. What are you going to do?”
“Cas, we’re not—” Dean starts but Cas waves his hand and a television appears on the map, streaming a live newscast.
“Well, why is she so different from you?”
“I am… Y/N is much more rebellious than I ever will be,” Cas says, sitting up straight in his chair. “I used to be her partner. Some called me her handler. She left heaven when God did, just before Gabriel and Balthazar. No one really knows what she has been up to, because she kills all the angels that try to bring her back. Luckily, I was never assigned that mission.” He straightens his tie. “All I know is that Y/N primarily kills humans now.”
“Ah, so she’s a monster,” Dean nods. “No wonder she’s working with the King of Hell.” He stands up and grabs the angel blade he’d left on the table. “Well, let’s go kill her, yeah?”
“No!” Sam and Cas exclaim at the same time, both standing up.
“Why the hell not?”
“We don’t even know why she’s here!” Sam says. “Just wait a second, alright, Dean? Aren’t you curious why she didn’t try to kill us? Hell, she saved me from Crowley.”
Dean frowns. “You said you had him by the throat and she took the knife from you.”
“Never mind that,” Cas interrupts. “You will not be able to kill her, Dean. You didn’t… make her angry, did you?”
“Why does that matter? She’s in handcuffs, I’ve got an angel blade. Let’s just get this over with.”
“Y/N was one of God’s chosen,” Cas says loudly, effectively stopping Dean. “She’s got twice the ‘mojo’, as you would say. Those handcuffs won’t work on her, for she is almost an archangel. I, for one, would like to know why God never punished her for rebelling every time she did and why he gave her extra grace.”
“Why’d she bother with pretending that the handcuffs work?” Sam asks, standing up straight.
Dean looks at him.
They both bolt for the dungeon.
“Hey!” Cas yells after them.
You look around the motel room you’d woken up in, blood all over your clothes. It looks relatively clean and new, except for where you’d been lying on the bed. Blood stains the sheets in the shape of your vessel’s body.
You don’t know if that’s Kara’s blood or someone else’s. You don’t remember what happened at all. One second you were—
A splitting pain shoots through your head and you fall to your knees, gasping for breath and clutching your head. When you take them away, they’re bloody, but you’re not sure if your head is bleeding or not. The blood is all over you. It’s slowly drying and you almost panic, your brain conjuring up images of you being covered in Kara’s blood for the rest of your life.
You scratch at your neck when it itches, your finger catching on something that you pull too harshly. A necklace with a snapped cord flies away from your form, but you hardly notice as it hits the rough carpet with no sound.
You close your eyes and concentrate. The glow of your eyes can be seen underneath your eyelids, not that anyone’s watching you. When you open your eyes, your vessel is spotless and skin whole again. You’re not completely sure if your vessel was damaged, but it’s fine now, so it doesn’t matter.
“Do you remember what happened?” you ask the mirror above the sink. Your reflection doesn’t move after the question. “Kara?”
You wave your hand and your reflection does the same. “Kara, stop. Do you—stop mouthing what I’m saying!” The mirror shatters and you take a surprised step back. “Alright, sorry.”
You turn to the mirror above the writing desk. “Look, I’m really confused. What’s going on?” Still, your reflection is only showing you. “Stop!” You run your hands through your hair. “Stop—just talk to me! Are you mad at me?”
Your reflection just shows you. “Fine,” you mutter. “If you won’t come out, I’ll pull you out.” You reach deep down into your subconscious and yank whatever’s down there to the surface.
“Perfect,” you breathe and open your eyes. “Kara.” Your expression quickly turns back to annoyance and then to fear. “Where are you? Stop it! What are you doing? ANSWER ME!”
Before Dean can kick down the door, Sam motions for him to stop. He wants to hear what you’re saying now that you think that no one’s listening.
“It does look cool, doesn’t it? The warding gives me a headache, though. Don’t worry, I’ll let you out soon. I just need to speak to Castiel. Yes, our plan is still a go. Of course I’m not going to let them try and stab us. Well, I’m not doing it for you. An empty vessel would be awfully lonely, wouldn’t it?” You laugh loudly. “I suppose so. Not that I want a body. These human prisons are awfully… blegh.”
Dean and Sam frown at each other.
“Well, alright. Since Sam and Dean aren’t going to say hi first, guess we’ll make the first move.” The dungeon doors slide open and you grin at the brothers, your hands on your hips. You are definitely not in the handcuffs anymore. “Is Castiel back yet?”
Sam can’t take his eyes off your reflection in the mirror. Even as you speak, it doesn’t move. As he watches, it turns to look at him and flips him the bird, but you’re not doing that in real life.
“Now, now, Kara, be nice,” you scold. “She doesn’t like you, you know. Handcuffs can get uncomfortable.”
“Pound sand,” your reflection says in the mirror and sticks out her tongue.
You wave your hand and your reflection suddenly starts to reflect what you’re actually doing. “Kara’s a bit prickly. So, Castiel, you’re working with these two Sasquatches?” Cas sighs and holds up his hands as he enters the room. “You do know, in teams, there should be at least one person with a working brain?”
“Yeah, that’s Sam,” Dean growls, stepping closer to you and brandishing the angel blade.
“I bet.” You grin at him. “I’ve heard all about Sammy. Oh, let’s stop with the foreplay,” you say. Sam and Dean’s feet slide across the floor until they hit the wall. You grin at them as the dungeon’s doors shut, locking you and Cas together.
“Hey!” Dean yells, pounding on the doors. “Hey, bitch! Let us in!”
“Cas, you alright?” Sam bellows.
“Y/N,” they hear Cas say. “Let them in, please.”
“Goddamnit!” Dean thunders, hitting the doors so hard they shudder.
“I’ll not let some ants boss me around,” Sam hears you say. “You’re almost one of them now.”
“Says the one who keeps her vessel around because she’s just that lonely,” Cas retorts. Sam grimaces. That doesn’t sound like the sort of remark you’d appreciate.
You say something in Enochian that he can’t quite make out, but to Sam and Dean’s surprise, they hear Cas chuckle. “It certainly has been a while.”
“Ah, my old handler. This sure is a reunion.” There’s a thud, like two people hitting each other, but not hard enough for it to be a hit. Sam frowns. Could you and Cas be… hugging?
“You always did have a flare for the dramatic.”
“Oh, you flatter me.”
“Cas! You alright?” Dean yells.
“Tell your ants to hush or I’ll do it for you,” you snap. “This isn’t your business, now is it?”
“Why are you here, Y/N?”
“I wanted you to tell your precious pets to stop fucking up the world, but I gather from these interactions they think that they protect you more than you protect them.”
“I don’t control Sam and Dean.”
“Earlier this morning the Lotus Motel in Lawrence, Kansas exploded due to a gas leak,” the reporter says on the screen. “Thankfully, there were only five casualties.” She continues to speak but no sound comes out.
Cas looks Dean in the eyes. “This is just one of the sparks that could light the gunpowder.”
“You’re saying… Y/N?” Sam asks, holding a hand to his mouth. No. That couldn’t be you.
“Y/N is lost and confused. She has a mission for the first time in millenia, and that mission goes against her bond.” The angel sighs deeply. “Dean, come on. She may not sense us.” He reaches for Dean and they both disappear. Sam is caught mid-lunge across the map in an effort to be brought along.
“Damn it!” He shoves his chair to the side.
Dean and Cas are on the TV screen now, looking around the wreckage and speaking quietly to each other.
“You’re sure this was Y/N?” Dean mutters.
“Positive. Traces of her grace are everywhere.”
“Cas, man, I don’t know if…” Dean grabs Cas’s jacket. “Hey! Look at me, man! Are you really telling me that you’re going to kill Y/N?” He eyes the crowd nearby and lowers his voice when he asks, “You’re cool with that? After all we’ve been through with her? After all she’s done for us?”
“She didn’t do it for you,” Cas laughs, shaking his head. Laughing makes this seem less real, like they aren’t talking about killing one of Cas’s fellow angels, one of his sisters, one of his best friends. You’re a part of the Winchester family just like he is. “Dean, look at me. Do I look happy doing this?” He lifts Dean’s hand off his sleeve pointedly. “I would give anything for this not to happen, but if Naomi’s control cannot be broken, she will hurt more people.”
“So?” Dean nearly yells. “No offense, Cas, but if that were to matter before, Sam and I would have killed you! You do know what matters? In this life?” He pushes Cas in the chest. “You and Sam and Y/N are all that matter to me. I don’t care if that’s selfish or whatever, I don’t care.” He shakes his head. “Doing this will kill Sam. You know that.”
“You can’t really control humans,” you say in an agreement. “So I guess that makes you more human than angel.”
“You too.”
You laugh then, and Sam winces for an entirely different reason than the reason he’s been wincing. It’s not a happy laugh; it’s too high and too brittle and forced. “Wouldn’t that be great? Wouldn’t it be great to be temporary and not care about what happens to this world after you’re over? Humans are so, so temporary and silly. You know, Castiel, so many humans down here are obsessed with the ‘meaning of life’. It’s so, so funny.”
“There isn’t one.”
“Exactly! Well, not really. You see, these humans, these disgusting little humans have created a meaning to life. Did you know that? And aren’t you angels all searching for a purpose? If they would just come down and watch these little creatures… But no.” You giggle. “They’d all end up like me.”
“Killing people. And working with the King of Hell.”
“Ha! They all deserve it, Castiel. There’s only a few crimes that absolutely cannot be forgiven under any circumstances. I kill the offenders of those crimes, demons drag their souls down to hell, and once they’re demons Crowley personally executes them. None of them deserve to go to heaven. No, I’m not talking about that.”
“So what are you talking about?”
“Love, Castiel! It’s the funniest thing! The relationships these stupid humans make keep them happy in their heavens. It’s too bad angels can’t love or go to heaven. Don’t you see, Castiel? If the angels could see these humans, they’d either kill them or give up their grace to all become them!”
“So why haven’t you done either of those things?”
“I do go to heaven.”
Sam and Dean look at each other with surprise. “I’m sorry, did this turn into an episode of Dr. Phil?” Dean whispers. Sam rolls his eyes; he’s surprised for a different reason.
“I’m in the memories of every person I’ve ever possessed or saved,” you say. “That’s good enough for me.”
“I don’t know why you’re here, though.”
“I’m here to offer a deal.”
Dean yells through the door, “We’re not going to take any deal you offer us, you crazy bipolar bitch!”
Sam tries to tell him to shut up, but he can’t open his mouth. He grunts and taps Dean on the shoulder. Dean looks at him and realization dawns over his face as well. He starts to grunt and pound on the door.
“Relax, I’ll let you speak in a few minutes, but I don’t like to be interrupted,” you snap. “Alright, here’s my offer: I’ll go out and get all the Leviathans into Purgatory. Every single one. You like that deal? There’s only one catch: You and your little Winchesters leave Crowley the fuck alone.” Your voice turns sharp. “Everyone knows you are the only ones with even a chance of killing him and I don’t feel like negotiating with another demon bastard. Crowley, at least, is a gentleman.”
“That’s it?” Cas asks suspiciously. Sam feels the same way. That’s too good a deal, and nothing in their lives ever goes in their favor. There’s got to be a catch later on down the road.
“I’m sick of the world ending every year. Oh, and you boys don’t hunt me down for killing a few humans,” you say flippantly. “What do you say, boys? Wanna take my offer? It’s a one-time deal!”
The doors slide open and the brothers scramble to their feet.
“Why’re you helping us out?” Dean asks suspiciously. “Just to be nice?”
“Haven’t you heard, Dean?” You grin, a grin that a demon would wear proudly. “I’m an angel, aren’t I?”
“Y/N,” Sam whispers, bowing his head as he clasps his hands. “Can you hear me, babe? Listen, I know you’re confused and you’re hurting. I just want you to calm down, okay? I know what it feels like to have a messed-up head. I know just what you’re feeling.” His face crumples. “I’m so sorry that you’re hurting because of me.” He lets out a long, shuddering breath. “It’s okay. I just don’t want you to hurt anyone else.”
He stays quiet for a long time after that, maybe hoping for you to appear, but Cas had warded the bunker against you, after all. Maybe your lack of a response means you still have enough sense not to bring it all down in order to get to him.
Or maybe you can’t hear him.
Or maybe you do remember him.
“Y/N, if you can hear me, I don’t want you to feel bad, alright?” Sam checks his watch. “I’m going to go to our tree, alright? Tonight, at midnight. If you remember me at all, you’ll meet me there and we’ll sort this out. I promise I’m not mad about the motel. Swear. If you don’t remember me, then…”
Then you’ll meet Sam there, and your mission will stop conflicting with your heart.
Even if you don’t hear his prayer, you’ll probably sense his presence.
“Sam!”
Sam looks up at the sound of his name. “Sam, Cas has some news!”
“Yeah?” he asks, sliding into the room. Dean tosses him a necklace and he snatches it out of the air. It’s a silver wing on a leather cord. Dean had teased him mercilessly when he’d stolen it.
“That was the only thing not burnt at all in the building.”