EVIL &&. PETTY

         Castiel nodded in agreement, glancing at the chains again, forcing himself to tear his gaze away from them after a second. Instead, he focused on the ingredients of the spell, and the spell book, carefully checking everything —- well, everything he was able to recognize, anyway. He wasn’t sure about all of it, but it was enough to have him believe she was serious about this.

         “You are not going to kill your rival witches if they don’t attack you, are you?” he asked, sliding the vial out of his trench coat pocket but keeping a firm hold of it, fixing her with a stare. “Or… chain them up and torture them?” Or something, he didn’t know, he didn’t want to know.

         He should just give her the vial and be on his way. “You owe us one if I do this.” Just a reminder, although one he did not even expect her to actually keep.

         Still, they might need her help with something, sooner or later. And if he refused to help her now, she was pretty certainly going to refuse to help them in any foreseeable future as well.

   Lying was just as natural for the witch as breathing. “Of course I won’t kill them. I would not try to stay hidden from them if that was my intention in the first place now, would I?” 

   Her words couldn’t be too good to be true, though. The angel knew her long enough -- her nature. “ -- The only way it can happen is in self-defense, of course. But nobody should be blamed for simply protecting themselves.”

   Now, working with the Winchesters wasn’t such a terrible thing. Usually she could still get away with a lot. “Well, you can’t have my help if I’m chained up in another witch’s basement myself -- or DEAD.”

   The distance in between the two of them was politely kept. She didn’t want to seem overly desperate or push him too much; there was still the risk of Castiel just saying no. Although, Rowena was really aching to just get her small hands around the vial.

There was no hiding the long sigh that left him. “Stop that. Please. You’re just embarrassing yourself.

“I’m sure I could manage that. As long as your spell doesn’t kill, injure or maim me.” this was not his first rodeo with a witch.

   There was nothing but amusement in the witch’s eyes. “ -- I’m just saying it how it is, nothing more, nothing less, Samuel. --

    “What HASN’T happened?” Rowena answered her alternate, withering scorn thicker paint on her features than make-up. “We had a son, who became the King of Hell. When I    finally    realised what I was missing out on, he died.” Face    contorted    in her usual miserable attempt at nonchalance, examining her manicure. “Have y’had MUCH to do with Lucifer?”

   A little lost in thoughts at first -- her alternate version looked so much prettier here, in the world that wasn’t just piles of dirt and trash, and she could do her hair properly -- Rowena blinked at the other as she mentioned Fergus. “ -- Are you sure we’re thinkin’ about the same boy? KING OF HELL? Oh, my.”

Out of respect to Rowena, Gabriel averted his eyes as she wiped away her tears and didn’t comment on it, only flickering emerald green eyes back to her when she spoke up again.

❝ Well, I think you’ve been doing a pretty good job so far. ❞  He pointed out, fingers absent-mindedly scratching at the stubble on his jaw.  ❝ Dean mentioned a few things you’ve done, both before and after you joined the team. I was there when we all came through the portal. You didn’t have to do all that you’ve done for the Winchesters, but you did. That says a lot. ❞

   She huffed out sort of a sad laugh, shaking her head a little. Hearing words of appreciation instead of mistrust was a very bizzare experience for Rowena, even after her change of heart.

“It is so much harder, though. Exhausting, even -- to try and do the RIGHT THING, especially after such a long time of not givin’ a crap about what’s right.”

         Tightening his grip on his blade, Castiel braced himself for any mischief she might have had in mind. But thankfully, all she did was to simply relocate the two of them. As soon as they arrived, he shifted further from her.

         Cas said nothing as Rowena opened her door. He could sense the warding – wary eyes observed her every movement as she undid them. Even more warily, he stepped into the hall as she prompted him to do so.

         Her living conditions made him narrow his eyes, along with the muscles of his left cheek twitching in confusion, and disbelief. Candles, sure, the general decorating style; none of that caught him by surprise. The plant was one thing. And the chains. What in the name of Christ did she use them for? Did he want to know? Squinting his eyes further, Cas decided that he did not want to know.

         “I’m sure it was,” he commented, slowly. Turned to look at her again. “That aside.”

         OK. He needed to pull himself back together. Wasn’t as if he hadn’t been in stranger places. “The spell, Rowena.”

   Taking advantage of the fact that Castiel’s eyes were now glued to the chains on the other side of the room, Rowena leaned down to fluff the pillow on the couch. And, maybe, in the meantime, shifted it ever so slightly so it covered a small bloodstain on the leather.

“Right, of course,” she said, voice almost sickly sweet. It was going quite well, so she did not want to mess it up now. “The quicker we are done with this, the BETTER for both of us, isn’t it.”

  The rest of ingredients were hidden in a chest, underneath the table. Rowena was a bit reluctant to take the warding off this particular thing, alas she had no choice if they were ever to be used. Chasing another angel was far too much work and energy that she couldn’t afford to lose. So she opened it and gestured at Castiel to come closer.

  Then, she walked up to a small bookshelf and took out the biggest of the few spell books that were there. After placing it on the table and flipping through the pages, the witch looked up at the angel with a wide smile. “Take a look, dear, everything is here in black and white.”

“What a SAD LITTLE LIFE if is, for me. Us. Whatever, really. No matter what we chose to do, no matter which version of this sorry world this is, it keeps pourin’ buckets of crap down on our heads. -- Yours seem to be a different kind, though. Tell me, what happened to YOU?”

         “I have trust iss– yes. I’m the one having trust issues, here, Rowena. Because you have been so kind to me so far. You summoned me into a circle of Holy Fire. If anyone in this room has trust issues, it’s you.” For a good reason – he certainly would not have just agreed to help her had she asked nicely. He didn’t want to do this as it was, but he was there already, and having a powerful witch owe you a favour… not that she had an honourable bone in her body, but… oh, well.

         “These witches,” Castiel said, “you couldn’t reason with them so you wouldn’t need a protection spell?” He shook his head and stepped closer to her. “Don’t answer that. Just don’t go on about murdering them under the protection of my grace, if they’re not actually harming anyone. I’d rather not contribute to that.”

         He hated the idea of letting Rowena teleport them anywhere, but, no, he didn’t fancy sitting on a bus for an hour any more than she did. “Fine. Just – don’t try anything.” He raised his eyebrows, lifting up his blade a tiny bit to remind her that he had it at hand. Why was he even bothering? She could owe them her life and still refuse to help them if they ever needed her magic.

   Rowena squinted at the angel blade, but, again, stopped herself from making a comment. It was quite frustrating to keep her mouth SHUT, but she had more pressing stuff in her mind. For example, what to try and kick under the couch first when they do teleport to her place. Walking up to the angel, she raised her hands slightly, as if in a defensive manner. “I’m gonna have to touch your shoulder -- well, ANYTHING would work, really, but I don’t want you reporting me to the Winchester’s. The PRETTY ONE would have my head for it, no doubt.”

  With a gentle touch to Castiel’s shoulder, the witch closed her eyes and murmured the simple spell under her breath. It only took them a split second to arrive on her doorstep. It looked nothing out of the ordinary. From the outside, that is.

“Alright, let me just, uh -- take the warding off, so you can actually go inside.” As much as she tried, the nonchalance in her voice did sound a bit OFF. Rowena waved her hand at the door and the lock clicked. She opened it slowly, stepped in and placed her hand on the wall. A few symbols lit up all over the hall, only to disappear after a few seconds. She sighed heavily. “ -- You’re good to go.”

  After passing the hall, they reached a single room. It was eerily DARK -- heavy, red curtains were covering the windows, the only source of light being a dozen black candles, lit all over the place. There was a half burnt skull decorating one of the drawers, next to it a plant that looked like it had teeth. On the walls -- CHAINS, heavy looking, definitely used before. And some lingerie on the floor, which Rowena did kick under the couch sneakily, even though she felt like that’s not what Castiel would be looking at.

         Castiel ignored her first comment. Her constant flirtatious act was starting to annoy him.

         Rowena was a good actor. And Cas was horrible at reading people to begin with —- so he had no way of telling whether she was lying or not. Still, the idea of her trying to mask the fearinstead of just genuinely being an asshole sounded more humane. That didn’t mean he’d give up without hard evidence, though.

         “OK, Rowena. Who’s after you?” Castiel asked. It would have been easy to just leave and let her deal with whatever this was on her own. But… that didn’t feel right. “We’ll go to your apartment, you take down any warding preventing me from entering and show me. And I might believe you.”

         It was a huge risk for the both of them. Yet he calmly tugged the vial containing the tiny bit of grace to his trenchcoat breast pocket. “Your choice. I could just go about my day.”

   ...Bollocks. 

   Sure, Rowena could simply prove she was telling the truth by taking the angel to her apartment. She could also make him NOT want to help her, by seeing just how much, well, WORSE magical artifacts and ingredients she kept there.

   These were just... there, though. Not being used. And not on the display, either. It’s not like she was going to let him look under her bed on into her underwear cabinet.

“You have trust issues, you know that?” she sighed and shrugged. “Alright, then. I might have... pissed off a few other witches. Don’t get me wrong, I could take on EACH and EVERY ONE of them... but suddenly they all became besties. --

-- See, they are just jealous, is all. I got my hands on a few... INTERESTING books, very educational. They badly want them.” -- Back. Because I stole them. Not like they were capable of casting one spell from them in the first place, anyway.