The Endless Life

Part 9

"Angels!" You heard Castiel yell from where he stood and turned to see him running to your side. He took your shoulder and pushed you towards the door, his other hand gripping his blade with such force that it shook. You felt his fingers tremble on your shoulder as he ushered you to the exit.

A chorus of wings alerted the four of you of their presence. The first angel appeared blocking the door, adorned in a suit, his blade braced in anticipation. Several more followed in his wake, hearding you into a fortified formation. They were all focused on you . "Give her to us," The first one commanded, motioning his weapon to you. "Are you stupid?" Dean yelled at him, displaying his own angel-murdering blade. "Be quiet mortal!" he took a step towards you. Cas stepped in front of you. "I think you are stupid if you didn't hear me the first time we fought. You will not touch her, you will not do her harm. You are unworthy to even cast your gaze upon her". He directed his blade at the approaching angel. "Brother, do not do this. Do not throw away your life. Heaven needs you. The girl is nothing," he continued to advance. You looked down, were you really nothing? If one thing was true, it was that Heaven needs Castiel. Who are you to intervene? "Cas..." You whispered, reaching out to grab his sleeve. "HOW DARE YOU!" Castiel bellowed, threatening Angel Douchebag No°1 with his weapon. "This girl means the world to me. I have spent years harboring my feelings in secret. Now things are finally perfect. I can visit her whenever I want, without explaining myself, because she's my girlfriend. I can tell her how much I love her. And best of all? She loves me back! I'm not going to throw that away. Not now. Not ever!". Despite the danger, you couldn't deny that you were extremely aroused by this side of Castiel. The words rolling off his tongue made crimson suffuse across your cheeks. "Brother, if that is your choice, then we shall have to fight".
"Come one then, we're ready!" Cas inspected his back-up one by one, expecting some sort of confirmation. As his eyes fell on you, you braced yourself in a battle stance. "Ready!" you called. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards before his eyes trailed to the boys. They seemed to have been in the middle of a Rock, Paper, Scissors match, bluntly ignoring the escapade unraveling before them as they had become disinterested with Castiel's ramble. Cas cleared his throat dramatically. Sam jumped into his own attack position, whilst Dean dropped his angel blade from the abrupt intrusion. He swiftly picked it up, brushed the dust off his jacket before joining Sam. "Ready!" they called out. "One last chance to leave us alone," Cas offered to the Angel Douchebag Squad. "I have direct orders," Angel Douchebag No°1 lunged forward, targeting Castiel's chest with his angelic silver.

Cas evaded the blow, extracting the blade from the angel's hand and plunging it deep into the flesh bellow the rib. The angel screeched in agony, his mouth and sockets illuminated by the white fulgor, before collapsing to the floor in a smouldering pile of limp flesh. His death detonated the rest of the angels' onslaught. Cas threw his newly acquired weapon to you before taking on another angel. You engaged the one nearest to you, seeing the Winchesters amidst their own battle with three other celestial entities.
The angel you challenged, judging by his fighting skills, was just a grunt. He was easy to take down, and yet you still earned yourself a new flesh wound on the shoulder. You snarled as the corpuscles stung from exposure to sweat and air. You lurched at him, thrusting the blade into the crevice of his neck while dodging his desperate swing. You scanned the perimeters for another victim. You saw an angel sneaking up behind Cas, who was in the midst of another brawl. He lifted his blade, readying it to stab Cas between the shoulder blades. You panicked, not knowing what to do to save him; calling out to him would have left him vulnerable. You charged at the angel and attempted to grab his wrist and free the blade from his grasp. You sprung forward, but acted a millisecond out of place and reached out to where you expected his wrist to be, but he had not yet initiated the stab. As your hand hovered in the empty space, the angel sliced through the air with the aciculate metal. Determined to act as Castiel's defence, you spread your palm without thinking to block the blow. The blade carved through the skin, flesh and bone, and within seconds half the blade had passed through your palm before halting . You screamed at the agonising sensation. Your wail diffused into a growl hissing through clenched jaws. Your glare fell to the floor, tears threatening to overflow. You cursed through gritted teeth, and the tears proceeded to withdraw. Your hair fell around your face like a curtain, submerging your skin in shadows. You shook through the constant pain streaming through your veins. The room was quiet, the only sound left was the constant dribble of your thick blood pound on the cement. "Holy shit... You've done it now," Dean grumbled, backing away subconsciously, only to be pulled back by Sam. "Excuse me?" inquired the angel who stabbed you, his glance flashing between you, your impaled hand and Dean. "You're screwed dude. Run. All of you. You're all screwed". "We shall not forfeit. What are you talking about?" he spoke, raising his voice as his temper shrivelled. "Y-you've unleashed her. Dark (Y/n)! You're all done for!". "This is ridiculous! What are you on about?". A low laugh echoed in the building, silencing everyone. Your laugh; malevolence lurking in it's notes. You looked up through your hooded view, eyes still covered by your fringe, and couldn't help but grin at the evident fear spreading through the angel's features. You felt the cool melt budge against your meat, knowing he was planing to retrieve his weapon. You placed your hand on his clenched fist. "Allow me," you said courteously, yanking the blade from your palm. You tightened your grip on his fist, his squirming only provoking you more. You clenched his hand until you heard the crunch of bone and the jumble of cries begging for mercy and basic screams and whines. You released his crushed hand and he let the blade fall. You caught it mid-air, kicked the angel in the shin and watched him writher in pain to fuel your own amusement before digging his own weapon into his heart. You licked the thick trail of blood from your skin, your tongue dancing across your raw flesh, prodding the crevice and lapping up your own claret hungrily. "Who's next?" you asked to the onlooking crowd.