Chapter Text
I stared, her cold body resting on my leg.
“Dean?” I felt Sam’s hand on my shoulder.
She looked sad, her mouth in a permanent frown, and tears staining her cheeks.
Castiel was showing emotion, however little it was. Eyebrows knitted together in mourning.
I picked up her light body, trying to get her wings to not drag on the ground.
I set her in the back of the impala, and we drove back to the bunker and she was set on the table, again.
“What are we going to do?” Sam asked. “Do we tell her parent’s? Give her a hunter’s funeral? Or just bury her on the woods out back?” Sam pondered.
“I can’t burn a twelve-year-old.” I declared.
“Then we shall go with a traditional burial.” Castiel said.
“Her parents?” Sam urged an answer.
“Would they want to know where she is? And would they want a coroner to see her wings and see the grace and that she had nothing wrong with her?” Dean growled.
“No.” Sam conceded. “So, she just goes missing, like we kidnapped her? but she actually made a demon deal, and died.”
“Exactly, Samuel.” Castiel replied.
The trio buried the young girl, and marked her grave with a crudely made cross, they had placed her in a handmade coffin.
~~~Awakened~~~
Screaming, pain. Terror.
I opened my eyes with a gasp of air.
“Where, where am I?” I gasped, my voice was hoarse and raspy.
I looked around, I was in a box, tight, so tight. Augh! Got to get out! I’ll suffocate!
I pushed at the lid, luckily the dirt was loose, guess I wasn’t down here long. I felt dirt pile on my face, I spit and kept clawing my way to the air, I had to get there I had to live, I had to!
“Please, please, please.” I muttered at every handful of dirt I pushed away.
I felt air, on my fingertips and I pushed my hand through. I pushed myself up and out of the ground, and gulped in fresh air.
I scrambled out of the ground and sat down next to the dirt I crawled from, it was a grave.
“Wow, I guess I was dead for a while, felt like forever.” I frowned at the old rotted wood that marked the grave I crawled out of.
I felt around my pockets. I pulled out a gold coin and the switchblade.
“Um, what’s this from?” I asked, examining the coin.
I put it back into my pocket and smiled at the blade that I had kept through my adventure. Why hadn’t I used this?
I looked around the area, tree’s a clearing, slush on the ground, no wonder it was cold it was winter. It was a clearing, was this? No- they, they did. They buried me in the clearing I learned to fly in.
I couldn’t have been dead more than a month. It was about fall when I died.
Felt like a lifetime down there, though.
“Okay, where do I go to get to the bunker, umm, that-a-way!” I exclaimed, trying to get my voice back too normal.
I began to walk in a vaguely familiar direction.
After around half an hour of walking I realized all my wounds were healed, and I didn’t feel much pain.
“Wait, who pulled me out? why would anyone pull me out?” I pondered this as I approached a road.
I walked along the road toward where I was half-sure the bunker was, please let me be lucky. Though if I wasn’t it meant more of this wondrous walking. It felt so good to stretch out in the real world.
Fortunately, and Un, I was correct in my direction and saw the two cellar doors that connected the bunker to the outside world.
I knocked on the doors, expectantly waiting for Dean or Sam to welcome me back from . . . down under.
Instead I saw a kid, about three to four years older than me. black hair, tanned skin small brown eyes and looked like he hadn’t slept for days.
Have I been replaced? I wondered, recoiling a little.
“Who are you?” he asked, looking me up and down.
“I’m Hope Carlyle. I’m a friend of Sam and Deans.” I said. “Who are you?”
“I’m Kevin.” He said, putting his hand out for me to shake. I did so and realized his hand was soaked.
“Dude? Why is your hand wet?” I asked, shaking my hand dry.
“Not a demon.” Kevin said.
“Demon, why would I be a demon?” I was confused, who was this Kevin, why hadn’t I heard about him, if it was winter I would have only been dead a month or so, how had they found him so quickly? And where was Dean and Sam and Castiel?
I saw Dean in the doorway, he was rushing over to Kevin. He shoved the boy out of the way and roughly grabbed my arm, before pulling me in and shoving me against a wall.
“Dean!” I gasped. “What the heck!?”
“How dare you wear her face!” he hissed.
He saw the knife had and tossed it away from me. my heart crashed down to my stomach, who did he think I was, some monster?
“Dean, I’m not a monster!” I pleaded as he reached into his own pocket and pulled out a larger version of the knife I took from him.
“She’s not a demon, Dean.” Kevin said, walking forward.
I saw Sam appear up the stairs, he looked sickly like he had a bad case of the flu.
Dean kept a steady glare on me as he slid the knifes blade down my arm, causing red blood to seep out.
His glare melted into a look a sadness. “Hope?”
“Dean? Why did you cut me?” I asked, pulling away from the now lax grip.
“Whoa!” Kevin exclaimed.
I felt my back and I was greeted with my trusty feathers. The holes.
A memory flashed into my mind.
I was standing there, I had ripped my shirt with my wings and killed an angel, then Dean was dead. And I did what I had to, I knew that. And I didn’t regret it if only for a second.
I shuddered, it wasn’t a good memory.
“Um, yeah. Heh. I’m sort of part angel.” I said, to Kevin.
“I’d read about those. I thought they were extinct.” Kevin replied.
“Now they’re endangered.” I sighed.
I felt Dean wrap his arms around me and I was lifted into the air, this was a strange gesture for him.
“Um, hi. Dean? I missed you too, believe me I missed all of you.” I assured him when he put me down.
I saw Sam make it to the top of the stairs.
“Hey, Sam!” I said, then frowning I added. “Are you sick or did you get hit by a bus, or?”
“Heh, thanks for that.” Sam responded giving me a side hug.
“So, why cut my arm? And the water? What’s up with that stuff?” I asked, looking up at the men around me.
“We were making sure you were you, the water, holy water stops demons. And silver in case you were a shifter.” Sam explained.
“Oh? Well okay, I guess.” I shrugged, there were so many creatures and tests I didn’t know about.
“You have a soul, right?” Dean asked me quietly.
“Y-yeah. Did that happen?” I asked, that was a weird question.
“One day, I’ll tell you all about it.” He sighed.
~~~Later~~~
I had a drink of water and was reading a book of lore, when I heard some noises in the bunker.
My knife that I took everywhere with me was on the table I grabbed it and began to investigate.
I walked down a long corridor, following the strange noises, muttering, scratching and clangs like metal hitting metal.
I knitted my eyebrows in confusion, slinking along the walls listening closely. I found myself in a supply room, but the noises were louder here. I pushed around some boxes of relics and cans of food. Until I found a door hidden behind a few shelves and boxes. The door had a strange painting on it, I assumed it was to ward off demons, as the boys knew Crowley. All I did know for sure was that Demons had black eyes, or red I guess.
I pushed open the heavy door, the inside of it was laced in something rough.
I entered the room, going down a short set of stairs. It was a dark gray color, no windows the only thing was a cart full of instruments of torture.
“Why?” I murmured, this time I heard the chains slam to the floor as if someone was either free or dropped them.
I gasped, turning to the center of the room I saw a man in a suit, slight balding on his head, a large chain around his neck.
“C-Crowley?” I stammered, my breath quickening. The demon that sent me to Hell the king of it was chained up in the Winchesters basement. This was not real.
“Hello, love. Back from your little time in my world?” he smiled at me.
I took a shuddering breath. “Yeah, Crowley how’s the basement?”
He looked annoyed and sighed.
I took a few more breaths before looking at the table, I was hit with a wave of nausea at the knives and saws and needles, along with screw drivers and pliers. I left the room to escape the horrible tools of destruction.
“Leaving so soon, stay a while!” I heard Crowley call after me, in his horrible British voice.
I slammed the door and left the storage room to return to the library.
~~~Night~~~
Slice, rip, tear. The pains away, darkness. Slice, rip, tear. Question. Saw. Pull, strain, snip, the pains away, darkness.
Repetition, then sudden change. Drowning, burning, drowning, drowning, drowning!
I opened my eyes with a gasp. I was in my room in the bunker, on my bed, it was dark, maybe three AM. Not typical.
“Okay, okay. I’m not there.” I assured myself. “Think, think of a happy memory, um. Castiel, Castiel. Remember when he was helping me to fly and I fell but he caught me. he always catches me.” I smiled, remembering the crisp air, and the horrible feeling of falling just before he caught me, wonder if he flew? I never saw his wings besides during a thunderstorm when he came to check on me and the light of my room illuminated him and I saw the shadow of great large wings behind him.
Castiel and these crazy, unhealthily codependent brothers were my new family, I decided, they saved me and my adopted family. Though I’m not going to save the world, I’m not going to stop it, so I might as well help Sam and Dean.
Even if I fall down again.