Death's Daughter | Supernatural, D.W.

Studying

Time begins to pass as I start working with Cas on the skills that I'm supposed to have. With each day that goes by, I'm a little more surprised in my capabilities. Being an over-hyped reaper has its perks.

So far, Cas has brushed up on my "hiding skills" as he calls it — which would be my act of deciding whether or not I'm visible to people around me. We've worked on internal communication, a fancy name for thought conversations, the manipulation of the mind, sedation, my strength, and most difficult of all, healing.

Everything I've worked on, I've caught onto rather easily, minus the healing. Maybe it's Cas inflicting various injuries on me and other people (whom he told me were Heaven's prisoners) that bothers me, but I can't quite get a grip on it.

"You're overthinking it," he tells me. "You get nervous because someone's getting hurt, and you panic. Calm down."

"Cas, all due respect, but you're full angel. I'm half human." I let out a breath. "My capabilities are less concentrated and less accessible than yours. Maybe I'm not actually capable of as much as you think I am."

"Don't doubt yourself, Mallory. You're the daughter of the most powerful horseman...You need motivation."

Castiel leaves the room for a minute, and returns with Dean in tow.

"Cas, no," I object. "You're not using Dean against me."

"You and Dean are...close," he articulates. "This will be a good motivator for you to channel that healing power."

"Close?" Dean and I both wrinkle our noses at Cas. He rolls his eyes and directs Dean into a chair.

"Take it easy, dude," Dean advises Castiel. "I'm not a freakin' piñata."

I stifle a laugh and Dean smirks at me a little. I feel something weird when he gives me that look, but I don't hate it.

Dean and I spend a lot of time together lately. Sometimes he sits with me in the massive library while I read about horsemen and supernatural beings. Sometimes I try to help him work on the cars in the garage. Sometimes we just sit together, and drink that God-awful whiskey that I'm acquiring a taste for.

"Mallory, are you ready?" Cas snaps me out of my train of thought.

I nod, even though I'm not.

"You both owe me a drink after this," Dean grumbles.

Cas makes a quick incision on Dean's exposed forearm. Blood slowly trickles from the wound as Dean's breathing becomes labored. Clearly, he's in pain, and probably a little mad.

I approach him carefully and gently place a hand over his cut. My dark hair falls over my shoulders and into his face. My hands are full, so Dean reaches up and throws it back over my shoulder.

"Sorry," I laugh.

"Focus," Cas reminds me.

I close my eyes and focus on closing the small wound as well as I can. Slowly, the wound closes, and nothing is left behind, save for a few drops of blood on the floor and on his skin.

"Good. Again."

The three of us repeat this process. Castiel leaves some abrasion on Dean, Dean is in pain, I relieve his pain.

"We need to go further," Cas says. "You've mastered this so far, but the things you'll deal with when it's really time to heal someone won't be simple little nicks like this."

"No," Dean defies Cas's advisement. "I'm not going to sit here and be injured over and over. However, I will sit in and observe John Doe over there being through agony. I don't have anything better to do."

The prisoner that Castiel brought wears a nervous look. For a second, I almost feel bad, but then I remember that he's a prisoner for a reason.

Castiel goes through the motions. He inflicts various injuries on the prisoner, and slowly but surely, I learn to fix them.

Over the course of the next few days, I master my healing skills. Although it was a little difficult to watch Cas stab the prisoner and break multiple bones in his body, it was useful training, and he ended up just killing the prisoner when he was finished anyway.

"What's next?" I ask him. We're sitting at the table together, having just finished disposing of the body.

"Have you finished reading the book I assigned to you?"

"No..." I trail off.

Cas frowns at me. "You need to finish it. I'm still working on the plan for getting yours and Sam's soul out of the veil."

"But it's so boring," I whine.

"Mallory, do it. It will help."

Before I can argue any more, Cas is gone into thin air. I roll my eyes and let out a defeated groan.

"Problem?" Dean enters the room.

"Cas is making me read again," I complain.

"I thought you finished whatever he gave you," Dean says.

"I lied."

Dean laughs. I go to the library and get comfortable on a couch with the ancient book in hand and read the hours away.

A few hours later, Dean ambles into the library. I tear my eyes from the book to greet him. They burn.

"Hey," I wave.

"Hi," he grins. I have to stifle a laugh, because I can tell that he's drunk just from that one word. "What are you doing?"

"The same thing I've been doing for about four and a half hours now," I respond. I swing my legs over the couch and sit up to make room for Dean, but he still sits right next to me.

"Boring. You should take a break."

I can't help but crack a smile at Dean. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are glittering with an inebriated glow.

"And do what?" I question. "It's late. There's nothing to do, and you're drunk."

"There's always something to do," Dean corrects me.

"Such as?"

"I don't know, we can do whatever you want."

The idea of simply curling up next to Dean is somehow enticing right now. My eyes are tired from reading, and it would be nice to just spend some alone time with him that's a little more...close.

"I'm kind of tired," I hint. I can't bring myself to actually tell him that I want to go lay down with him.

"I thought you didn't sleep," he slurs.

I simply shrug. He shrugs back at me, then stands up.

"I guess I could go for some sleep."

My heart skips a beat. Am I really going to do this? Am I actually going to go to bed with Dean?

Without a second thought, I'm up, and my feet are following in Dean's footsteps. I feel like I could pass out for some reason. Am I really this nervous?

He leads me into his room and turns to face me. The soft light from his bedside lamp accentuates his facial structure, and I feel like my knees could buckle underneath me. The fact that a mortal being, a Winchester nonetheless, can make me feel this way, blows my mind a little bit.

That's when my mind betrays me. The feelings that overtake my head remind me of the way I used to feel for Jasper, and suddenly, I'm homesick and guilty all at once.

"What's wrong?" Dean asks.

I shake my head and straighten my expression. "Nothing. Sorry, but I think I'm just going to go to my room."

He puts a hand on my arm to keep me in place. The touch is soft, but makes me feel wrong. "Did I do something?"

I shake my head again. "It's not you, don't worry about it. I'm just kind of worn out and I feel like this isn't smart. I'll see you in the morning, Dean. Goodnight."

He bids me goodnight as I quickly leave the room. As soon as I get to my own quarters, I sit on the bed and take a deep breath.

What was that?