Death's Daughter | Supernatural, D.W.

Game Plan

It's been a few days since I've been staying at what I've found to be called the bunker. Sam is still harsh toward me, but getting better. I rarely see Dean, but he's just as normal as he has been. Castiel still hasn't returned.

I have to admit, even though I don't sleep, the beds in the bunker are incredibly comfortable. Most of the time I just sit in my temporarily assigned room and relax into the memory foam. Dean's tried to offer me food and drink a few times, but I don't need it and would rather stay in my room.

As I lie on the bed, staring at the ceiling, a knock sounds at my door.

"It's open," I say.

Dean opens the door and leans against the doorway. "Hey, Mallory, Cas is back. I think it's probably time for you to come out of your room and negotiate some terms."

A pit of nerves forms in my stomach. I still can't tell if I can trust these three or not. Dean feels pretty comfortable to be, ever since he said he trusts me, I'm confident that I can trust him to some extent. Castiel wasn't bad until he intimidated me to get what he wants. Sam...I don't want to be within ten feet of him, and fortunately, I have yet to bump into him around the bunker.

"O-okay," I nod, then get up and follow Dean down the hall and up the steps, into the foyer. I spoke too soon about not bumping into Sam.

"I thought we agreed you were leaving that in the dungeon," Sam grumbles, frowning at me.

"Hey, take it easy!" Dean barks. "She's going to help us. Stop being an ass." He turns to me, as I'm practically hiding behind his substantial frame. "Don't worry about Sam. He's soulless right now which makes him a douche. He'll be better soon enough."

Sam doesn't say anything else. Castiel regards me civilly.

"Mallory, I'm glad to see you're getting acquainted. I'd like to apologize for my statements the other day. I was frustrated and out of place. However it did get me what I wanted, so I'm not that sorry -"

"Cas," Dean sighs.

"It's okay, Castiel. Thanks," I nod.

I sink into a chair and stare at the table. Dean passes me a glass of whiskey, just like a few nights ago.

"You'll want that for this conversation."

I take the liberty of choking down the whole glass to build my confidence.

"Dean tells me you have conditions for helping us," Castiel pipes up. "I'd like to hear them."

"Basically, I want my soul restored and I want protection for a little while when this is all over and I'm living in the mortal world on my own," I explain. "Reapers are going to be after me. If I'm human, I won't be able to defend myself against them. I want training in weapons and I want help when I ask for it."

Castiel nods. "I think that's reasonable. You know that you can still keep both sides of your existence intact after your soul is replaced, right? You don't have to be full human."

"I don't do any good as a reaper. I don't have any morals. I don't feel much. I want to experience humanity for what it is."

"Give it some more thought. I'll be training you in what your father already should have, and I think you'll change your mind after you get to do some...good, as you call it."

"So we're going to house a reaper and an angel?" Sam scoffs. "Real dream team here, guys."

Suddenly, my liquid confidence manifests itself.

"What's your deal?" I question. "It's your soul that I'm putting my ass on the line for. You should be grateful that you have us."

"We wouldn't have to put our asses on the line if Castiel had done it right the first time," Sam complains.