literature

The Righteous Woman

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They’re working one of those in-between jobs again. It sounds stupid to say they’re basically just filling time, waiting for the apocalypse, but Dea can’t shake the feeling that that’s exactly it.
Hey, beats twiddling your thumbs.
She sent Sam into the dilapidated convenience store, opting instead to sit in the Impala’s driver seat, playing her music louder than her stick-in-the-mud brother would ever tolerate.
The radio crackles once, a loud, drawn-out static, then shuts off. “What the...” she bends over it, half-prepared to run to check on Sammy, when a prickling on her neck causes her to turn around.
She almost jumps through the roof. “Cas! Gimme a little warning next time, will ya?”
He stares at her, as serious and intense as ever. It’s been a bit more than two weeks since she last saw him, and he doesn’t seem to be much worse for wear. His hair is ruffled, maybe he has a shade more stubble, but he’s largely unchanged. “My apologies, Deanna. I did not intend to alarm you-”
“Well maybe that not-alarming thing would work out better if you wouldn’t just appear! I mean- how does that even work? Are you just constantly watching so you know where to go?” Angel or no angel, he may be pure and perfect, but that’s plain creepy.
“No, of course not.” His head tilts a degree. “I simply call myself to your side. Wherever that may be.” He looks around the Impala distractedly.
“Yeah, well, for all you know, that ‘may be’ in the shower. Dude!” It’s an unreasonable argument, and she knows it, but it gives her passing satisfaction to watch his face redden in embarrassment. Who knew angels blushed?
“Like I said, Deanna-”
“Okay, whatever,” she mumbles. “Skip to the good stuff.”
He lets out a breath, and she can see the worry and stress written across his face. Or maybe that’s just the past of the meat he’s riding. The thought sends a shudder up her spine. “I shouldn’t be here.”
She raises her eyebrows, accepting the intense blue glare. If Cas doesn’t get the idea of personal space, he really really doesn’t get that long periods of eye contact make most people uncomfortable.
Frowning, Cas continues. “You and your brother...things are about to get bad.”
Dea can’t help but choke out a mockery of a laugh. “About to get bad? I dunno if you missed the past...oh, twenty-five years or so, but-”
Cas’ frown deepens. “You know what I mean.” He pauses, turning his head to look straight on through the windshield. “Apocalyptic bad. I thought that I should-”
“What?” she scoffs. “Say goodbye? Wish us luck? Helpful, as always, Cas. May the force be with you, too.”
“No,” he says forcefully. “You are about to be submerged in the largest battle in the cosmos. I’ve managed to hide you from Michael and Lucifer, and how do you use your time? Hunting a...pathetic ghost.”
She rolls her eyes, biting down on her lip. “I’m sick of hearing about this freaking war! About saving the planet. If we’re not letting ‘em take us, I don’t even know what you want me to do. Last I checked, you still had zero on the whole God thing. So until we know something, I’m stickin’ with what I know. Hunting evil and killing it.”
Something that might be a smile, if this wasn’t Castiel and they weren’t talking about the end of the world, twists his lips. In that moment- and she’s not sure if the moment is because of anything he is or everything she is- Deanna wonders what it would be like to kiss him.
Then she realizes that’s the dumbest idea she’s had in a long time, and the moment passes. He says, “I am not here to tell you otherwise. I want to encourage that spirit, Deanna. Doing what must be done, saving everyone you can...war or no war, that is what will save or condemn this earth.” He pauses, turning back to her with a tortured look. “Good work, Deanna Winchester.”
And then he disappears.
It’s like the world was on pause, and the play button has been hit again. The radio starts blaring again, Sam walks out of the convenience store with a laden bag.
And Dea sits, frozen except for a mind trying to work out what just happened, and what to do with it.
---
“Sammy?” Dea mumbles through a mouthful of...well, Sam’s not exactly sure. Better not to ask.
“Huh?” He doesn’t look up from the convenience store biscuit, wondering if it’s worth it to eat the “sausage”.
Sam can hear her swallow. “The whole apocalypse thing...d’you ever just feel like we should be doing something else?”
That was vague. Sam pauses to give his sister a scrutinizing look. “Something...else? Like...”
“I don’t know, man!” She drums her hands on the steering wheel before backing out of the parking space. “I mean, the apocalypse? Don’t you think that’s a little big for us? You know we can’t do what those freaking angels want us to do. Can’t we just lie low for a while, keep hunting things we can manage?” She sighs in frustration, then lets slip an ironic smile. “The good ol’ days?”
Sam knows Dea too well. He can see when her tough shell cracks apart and genuine fear slips through, but he pretends not to notice. “Dea, I think our chances of getting out of this were just about shot when Mom-”
She interrupts him, sudden and vicious. “Don’t talk about Mom. I don’t want to hear about what Mom did.”
Sam shakes his head incredulously. “I have demon blood in me, Dea! You- you went to Hell and got pulled back out! And like it or not, we are the vessels.” She doesn’t understand. It’s better for her, not being the embodiment of evil.
She’s scowling intently at the road, and he can tell he’s not going to get an answer.
“Dea...there’s no way out of this. We’ve been stuck for a long time now.”
There’s another moment of silence before she bangs her hand on the dashboard angrily. “No one should have to do this! I mean- saving the world? Trying to keep apart a fight that’s been planned for centuries? Sammy, you’ve gotta know that we can’t really do that. The- the things I did....the people I couldn’t save...let alone the whole freaking planet! If there’s gonna be any hope without putting our money on Michael, they...they need a hero, Sammy.”
He catches the unspoken end of the sentence: I’m not one.
He could say something comforting. Something about how he’s always looked up to her, and she’s his hero. How saying yes to Michael can’t possibly be worth it. How all those people lost were out of her control.
How it’s not her fault.
But all of that seems pointless now, so he keeps his mouth shut and eats the questionable biscuit and lets two songs play before launching into a description of the case they’re working.
---
Part 1/5?
If you've been following me for a while, you probably know how it is with me and multi-part stuff (ughhhh...not good), but I have actually already almost finished this one. Yeah, I'm holding out on you. ;) All this to say, you WILL get the end! :D

Hopefully this goes over well! My first Supernatural fic on here, and I must say, this thing is my baby right now.

To Destiel or not to Destiel? That is the question. (help?)

If you fave this, or if you hate this, PLEASE tell me why! Critiques are always welcome.

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Characters are not mine. Supernatural and all that belong to Erip Kripke, Warner Bros., and generally people who are not me.
© 2013 - 2024 the-improbable-ive
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Angrahius's avatar
Yes, Destiel! I'm interested to see where this is going with fem!Dean :D