Chapter Text
The air surrounding the young girl was cold as she trekked along the highway. Every so often a car would pass by, the headlights blinding her for a second. She’d paused, let her eyes readjust and then continue on her journey. No one dared stop for her, it was ominous. A young girl walking alone in the dead of night. She looked as if she was made of shadow, and so they all moved on without a thought.
She knew the path well. Along the highway until the bridge, then down the side path into the first clearing of the forest. The hardest part wasn’t the journey, nor what would happen once she reached the clearing; it was stopping herself from jumping off the bridge.
Three men stood in the clearing. It was clear from where the girl stood that they were arguing. She didn’t hesitate before thrusting out her hand. As it twisted, the bodies of the men contorted and soon black smoke rose from their lungs.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
The men fell, to the ground and likely to hell as well. She knew they were dead, the demons never let their vessels survive. They’d be back again soon, another set up in hopes she’d get caught. Hunters passed through this town often, demons took advantage of this and tried to catch her out. She took the bait each time, not able to risk them coming any closer to town; to her kids.
The bodies were limp, in an almost peaceful way. That was until she noticed the carving on their arms, blistering red letters spelling out her name.
They’d never been this bold before. She let out a string of curses before stepping back from the bodies. Her outstretched hands summoned fire, and soon the small clearing was alight. The police and hunters would’ve tied the bodies back to her. Not wanting to face what that might entail she ran.
Even with her back to the bodies, she could still so clearly see her name carved into their flesh.
Daisy. It was her name and she despised it. Daisy was a name for pretty girls, girly girls. Daisy is the wanderlust colour of the sky and the adjacent gravel sheen. Daisy is a milk drunk calf staggering towards it’s mother. The name was not made for a girl who is filled with all that is dark and light. Daisy is not the name for a girl whose skin’s seams are visible on a summer's day. It isn’t for dark eyes and caffeine highs, the mania nor the crash. The name was made for the middleground, the gentle spray of a waterfall. But her name remains Daisy nonetheless.
Daisy left the flaming bodies, and began the sad trek home. To the kids she knew relied on her to come home each night.
A single dead body, Castiel fell to the ground and then turned to the young girl.
It’s her.
Bright green eyes and jet black hair.
She was too young.
She smiled, she stepped forward to hug him.
She thanked him, for killing her father.
She fell.
And it’s all his fault
The colour fell from her skin, as the girl collided with the earth beneath her young legs. Her eyes fell into the back of her head.
Cas’s eyes fell the corpse beside her, and to it’s matching wounds.
Her soul connected with her father, the girl had fell; she had died.
He moved like he did in the moment, to hold the young girl he’d tried to desperately to save. He gingerly lifted her head, slowly tugging her upper body into his arms. He held her, then cradled her. He howled with sorrow, he fell apart with guilt.
A young girl in an angel’s arms, like a portrait.
With a touch of death.
Then Cas awoke, holding another green eyed individual.
The name nearly fell from Cas’s mouth, he could feel her; she always longed for him, much like Dean does. It hurt him, but he listened to her; when she told him she was okay, when she told him that he was a reminder of her pain. He listened to her to help her and he could feel her struggling.
Castiel slowly opened his eyes to be greeted by the sight of his boyfriend. Dean was already awake, sitting up in bed; reading something on his phone.
“Morning angel.” His boyfriend’s morning voice rumbled, “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Cas said. “Just another weird dream.”
They both knew what he really meant. Nightmares haunted any hunter, between the couple they had enough material to last for many lifetimes. Castiel never dared share this nightmare however, he always was vague about the details. The one time Dean asked, he answered with ‘The girl I couldn’t save’. Those words were enough for Dean to seemingly understand, and so left the topic. Despite his promises, Cas so desperately wanted to tell him.
“Sam’s got a new case,” Dean told. “A triple homicide in a forest famous for hauntings. It’s just a state over, Mansfield Pennsylvania.”
Cas tensed. “Triple murder just seems like a serial killer? Unless there’s a repeated trend of them, maybe it’s just not demonic?”
“Well you can debate Sam when he gets here,” Dean said, getting out of the bed and stretching. “He seemed to think the forest being haunted was credible.”
“We can’t go,” He said, with a certain finality in his tone.
Dean gave him a strange look before stepping into the bathroom.
Subtly was never Cas’s strong suit.
Dean Winchester knows a lot of things about his angel Castiel.
He knows his favourite color, green. That Castiel loves sunsets and bees. That he valued spending time with the ones he loved above all else. He liked his coffee with 3 sugars and his tea with honey. And now he knew that his angel was hiding something.
As the hot water coursed down his body his mind wandered. With almost a sense of sadness he remembered how Cas and him got together. Sitting on the hood of the impala, out at a field near the bunker; watching the sunset. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling, it was his one chick flick moment. After all of those years of questioning and avoiding any real heart to heart about what was going on between the two of them, everything was out in the open.
But right now? This morning, it felt like it was the old days again. With nearly spoken words and secrets being kept. Dean trusted Castiel more than he trusted himself, and if there was something he was not saying; there was likely a good reason. But the rational part of his brain could not overshadow the doubtful part. That Castiel didn’t love him, that Castiel was not on this side in their battle and that Castiel was playing the long game. Dean was certain that was not the case, but his brain had a way of convincing himself of things that were not true.
By the time Dean had finished getting ready, Sam was already sitting in their hotel room with his packed duffle bag. Castiel had packed up his and Dean’s stuff and was sitting on the bed, with a grave look on his face.
“Well who pissed in your cereal angel?” Dean joked, trying to lighten the mood.
“Sam.” Castiel grumbled, he still didn’t quite pick up on social cues. Dean had grown to find it quite endearing.
“It’s clearly demonic!” Sam argued, “That forest is infamous for it. I can’t believe we’ve never looked into this place before.”
“Three men found dead in a forest known for murder,” Castiel replied. “Not all murder is demonic!”
Dean groaned. This argument occurs every so often, a murder in questionable circumstances occured and leads them to debating whether the journey is worth it. Dean hated to disagree with his angel, but from what Sam had said; his argument was more convincing.
“It’s only 4 hours away,” Dean added, he sat beside Cas on their bed. “I’m not agreeing with either of you.”
“Sure you’re not,” Sam mumbles, rolling his eyes.
“Hey!”
“Hello boys.”
All three of them jumped slightly at the appearance of Crowley. He was dressed in his typical dark attire, and had an empty glass in hand.
“Crowley, why are you here?” Sam asked.
“I need a favor done,” Crowley answered. “Rogue demon.”
“You’re the King of Hell,” Dean pointed out. “You have people to do your bidding.”
“Not with the uprising I don’t.”
Dean had almost forgotten about the apparent uprising. It was only a few months ago when Crowley was resurrected did he first hear about the upset, that Crowley was bought to life to be a leader for the resistance.
“What’s the issue?”
“This orphanage has gone through like 6 owners over the past 2 years,” Crowley said. “This girl keeps killing my demons, it’s quite the hassle.”
“Girl?” Dean asked. “You can’t be serious?”
“Come on Dean, how many murders to your name now?” Crowley taunted. “What’s one more, isn’t a child just a small corpse?”
“We don’t kill children,” Sam objected.
Crowley turned to Dean, meeting his eye. With a sneer he spoke.
“Like father like son.”
As he finished speaking he was gone. A piece of paper floated to the ground from where he was standing. A silence settled over the three of them in the motel room. Cas looked ghostly white and Dean felt his face flush with anger. Sam’s face had a look of confusion.
“That’s not like Crowley?” He said. “He was not himself.”
“I agree,” Cas added. “He was quite aggressive.”
“He can’t be serious about what he said about Dad?” Dean asked. “Dad wasn’t always the most moral man, but he drew the line at kids.”
Sam rose, and picked up the piece of paper.
“Mansfield Pennsylvania,” Sam read. “It’s where the murders occured.”
“Are you saying we go and kill that kid?” Dean asked, still unable to comprehend what Crowley meant.
“No!” Sam took a deep breath. “But we should go, what if Crowley goes to another hunter?”
“Crowley wouldn’t,” Castiel said. “He risked too much coming to speak to you if hell is still in uproar.”
“I think we should go,” Sam said. “Maybe we can help her.”
Dean looked to Castiel for his reaction. His angel just looked defeated. He was always looking more tired these days, his grace was still there; just limited. Castiel could only nod in defeat.
“I hate to agree on this, since I think the murders are just murders; but I’m concerned for the child in question.”
Dean swore he could see Castiel’s heart break as he spoke.