#0fcourage

The brick exterior and multi-paned windows eluded to times long past. She could smell the rot and mildew inside the walls, even hear the shifting of the building as age settle into its bones further. A decrepit location for rest, though the usual tenants were likely as decrepit as the walls. Except for one, the one she had come to see.

She’d had to wait. He worked like clockwork, she knew, always needing to escape his housemates to sate the thirst of the blemish to his flesh and soul. The thing that made him even more dangerous and terrifying than even before, which many would day was saying quite a lot.

Her knock was light, but loud enough do he’d hear. She knew he was awake, so she had no concern for waking him. Her concern was the weapons she knew would be trained on her and at the ready even before he opened the door.

It had gotten bad again, way more quickly than the last, which had induced a tightening of his chest that threatened to choke him from the inside out. Panicked that his end was racing towards him like a wildfire, but even more so at the thought that no one could stop him before it became too late.

He had been struggling to focus on his laptop’s screen for about a hour, at least. The blood rushing in his ears, the fast pounding of his heart, was making it difficult, but what really broke his attention was a timid knock at the door. It was like a switch turned on, drawing him to his full height and unsheathing his weapon as his Hunter instincts took over. He knew, just by the knock alone, that it wasn’t Sam, which lead him to his next conclusion, but looking through the peephole-- instead of a brunette-- stood a blonde. His brows furrowed. “Ya have the wrong room, Sweetheart,” he informed through the crack in the door.

“That would be impossible, Dean Winchester.” She gave a sad smile as she lifted her hands to show she was unarmed. “I don’t make such mistakes.” She glanced past him into the room, what she could see from the small opening he had made with the door, then back to him. “I have come to offer some support, if you’ll allow it.”

The blood drained from Dean’s face out of habit, hearing his name come from the unknown girl and putting him at a disadvantage. He didn’t like it. He adjusted the angel blade in his fist, ready to use it if need be, even though her stance shifted into an even less defensive one than before. “Support?” he questioned, doubt-filled and suspicious. “I ain’t runnin’ a charity.”

Her lips pressed together in a thin line.  “I’m aware help from my siblings has been minimal... At best.” She also knew many who had offered their assistance in the past had done so for their own selfish and not entirely well meaning needs. “Castiel is not well accepted by many, but those who do accept him wish to follow his lead. In doing so, I’m here to offer whatever I can provide. Including information.”

The girl let slip of what she was by a familiar phrase, paired with the way she spoke, making Dean’s mind jump to Cas. It didn’t take much time after that for her to confirm his suspicion. “Uh huh,” he said, glancing behind the girl before returning. “Cas send you?”

She hesitated, biting her lip at the question he directed at her. She didn’t communicate with her brothers and sisters much. Cas knew of her wish to help, to specifically get involved with the Winchester brothers, but she had yet to speak on this with him. That was probably something to have been done before this moment. “Not exactly. But he’d vouch for me were you to ask him about my intentions and loyalty. You’ll find I’m not much like my siblings.”

The hesitation gave him the answer before she even opened her mouth to reply. He glanced out into the hall again before he stepped back opened the door further to let her in. “Not sure if that’s as comfortin’ as you’re tryin’ t’make it sound.” Once she was in he shut the door behind her, re-locking it. “So which Bible-thumper are you?” he asked turning to face her. The blade remained in hand but it was now held more loosely than before.

She smirked at his verbiage, always amused by the differences in speech from one human to the next. “Machidiel. You can call me Mac.” She replied easily. She moved into the small room, gaze rolling across the walls a moment before she found a chair and sat, one leg crossing over the other automatically. “I don’t mean to cause alarm. There’s a lot-- including plenty you have no knowledge of-- happening, now. It’s simply time I take my stance, and I’ve chosen you, the hunters, as my side to align with.”

Her name didn’t ring familiar, but that didn’t mean much, nor did it give him any hint on whether or not she was lying. His instinct was, of course, to assume she was, but he’d give her the benefit of the doubt-- for now.    Dean watched her stroll into the room before planting herself on a chair, sitting straight and proper, the kind of rigidness that came from being an Angel. She spoke then, claiming her presence wasn’t cause for alarm but that she was simply choosing a side. “Well, that’s great an’ all,” Dean replied, unable to keep the skepticism completely out of his tone. “We’ll be sure t’send ya the starter pack, but, uh... Is there a reason why you’re here? Or how you even found me, for that chance?”

“It wasn’t easy, and it’s doubtful any my siblings could find you without help. So no, you don’t have to worry about a sudden flood of angels at your door.” She smirked at the thought before she continued. “Your journey has been long and difficult, not unlike others before you. The courage and strength you expel daily, especially in your current condition, is exceptional. I only offer my help and guidance to those who show they are worthy, as you have.” Her lips pursed. “I want to try to help you with the Mark of Cain, since Castiel is wrapped up in things he shouldn’t honestly be worrying about.”

Well, that was reassuring, he guessed. Angels, who weren’t Cas, didn’t seem to see eye-to-eye on anything, and that level of frustration was probably the last thing he needed right now. And this ‘Mac’ character didn’t seem much of a contrast to her ‘siblings’ as she had first claimed. But maybe that was just because he was judging too quickly, stereotyping her on the few similarities she held because of what she was. He needed to take a step back before he did something rash and possibly unnecessary. So instead he listened, trying not to pick her apart by the way she moved or said something but actually absorb what she was saying. Initially, it proved difficult, but then she mentioned the Mark of Cain and he was all ears. He had to blink a few times before he could answer. “You-- wanna help-- me?” he asked. Was the disbelief too hard to hear? “Seriously?”

Her brow furrowed at his response. Was he stupid or just surprised? She could assume both from what she’d seen and heard, but she’d behave herself. For now. “Seriously.” She confirmed. “Castiel is busy, and you clearly need more guidance on the matter before you destroy everything and everyone that matters to you. I watched Cain do it, I don’t want to watch you do it, too.” The last was said with conviction, though she’d admit (only to herself) that she feared she was too late. Still, it was worth a try. Cain had never had angelic support, and maybe that had been why he’d ended up the way he had. Of course, she was more understanding of things than most angels, so that might have had something to do with it. Then, she had been forbidden to involve herself. Now? She made her own decisions.

The Angel, of course, seemed confused when he didn’t jump for joy at her offer out of nowhere from someone he had just met two seconds ago, and Dean couldn’t but see Cas in the confusion. It might’ve sparked a smirk had the girl not turned the conversation dark by focusing on the obvious. His stance had become slightly defensive unconsciously, the matter just a bit too personal for some unknown Angel to speak so openly about. “No offense, uh-- Mac, was it? But last I checked your angel mojo couldn’t touch it.--So unless you’ve got the updated weapon pack I don’t see what you can really do.” His face had fallen into despair, hopelessness filling every crease; the look of a man who had clearly already given up.

She watched the emotions play through his features in the brief silence that settled between them. When he spoke again, his tone was that of the Dean Winchester she had come to know so well from the stories and watching him from afar. “You’re right, our Grace does nothing to the Mark.” Her lips pursed. “But last I checked, your pet angel hasn’t been around to help you much. I’m not Castiel, but I’m not useless. And from what I can tell, you’re low on options.”

Machideiel validated his knowledge, that, probably all, he assumed, Angels couldn’t remove or alter the mark residing on his arm, but also added that the usual angel on his shoulder was off dealing with his own problems and therefore not available to help, unlike she, apparently. Her reason: because she decided to join Team Hunter. At least according to her, but only having just met her Dean had no reason to trust her and believe anything she said. Unfortunately, however, she was right about one thing: he had low to no options, and his tightened jaw said that he wasn’t happy about it. “Fine. I guess,” he said, gruffly. “Maybe some unfamiliarity is a good thing...”

A smug look crossed the angel’s features and she sat a little straighter. No one ever said living among humans for so long hadn’t had any affect on her. “Glad you could come to your senses.” She said with a bright smile. “Oh, I almost forgot. I’m pretty sure I can help with another problem you’re having. No promises, but--” she shrugged. “I’m pretty good.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. You’re only a substitute, so don’t get too comfortable.” He’d much rather have Cas, the two of them having gone through much together that he trusted him wholly, but as she said, Cas already had his hands full.    Dean’s brows furrowed when she mentioned another problem he was dealing with and how she could help. “Okay, settle down there, Blondie,” he told her, not missing the arrogance like she was his literal gift from heaven. “What other problem?”

“Oh, I’m aware. As any of my siblings would be.” She noted, his anger at her not being Castiel clear in the way he spoke. His demeanor shifted again and he threw that famous sarcasm and attitude her way. She quirked a brow. “Auryon.” The woman herself was a problem, never mind what she had become in the last year or so. Mac hadn’t been part of Heaven or its workings, but she knew when to pay attention. And when the King of Hell dragged a hunter back from Hell reeking of his power, everyone paid attention. The fact that that simple hint of power had since turned into something she knew even Crowley himself was growing wary of was something to definitely pay attention to. No matter what he had done to her, that power would destroy the woman if Crowley-- or someone else-- didn’t do something soon.

As long as she understood her position, and that he only agreed because of his dire need for help. And that his desperation didn’t mean he trusted her, neither. Although he was sure that was conveyed with how he stood rigid in front of her, and how the weapon in hand still remained unsheathed.    Dean asked her what other problem she was referring to and the single-worded answer she gave had his defensive stance faltering, unable to help it. “You can help her? Free her from Crowley?”

Her lips pursed as he eyed her, his thoughts and feelings on her clear in so many ways. Fine. She hadn’t expected easy, not with a Winchester. His question came with a swift chance to his demeanor, to his entire attitude. “I may,” she admitted slowly. “I have been on earth a very long time and observed things my siblings have not. I believe I know for a way to help her. But I will not promise anything; nothing is guaranteed.” She knew her answer would anger him but also hoped he would see she was trying not to mislead him. That would end worse than anything, se knew.

A spark of hope ignited in him at the angel’s maybe, to which he fought ardently to stomp out. Maybe’s were not guarantees, and false hope did nothing other than disappoint in the long run. And the woman basically said as much, but a maybe was better than sitting around on their asses, doing nothing. “I want you t’help her,” he said firmly, his expression hardening. “Ya wanna help? Fine. But I want your efforts focused on helpin’ her.”

Her lips pursed as she eyed him quietly, weighing the words she wished to use. Finally, she nodded her agreement. “May I ask you something, though?” She inquired carefully. It was something that truly bothered her, along with a few others like her. Maybe an answer would help her feel better about everything.

Following his decree, the young and blonde appearing angel stared at him with a pondering look, and Dean could only imagine what she was thinking. Angels were much harder to read than humans. After a moment, though, she nodded her consent, but her condition was an inquiry. Dean fave a short pause, but eventually said, “Yeah. What?”

She weighed his tone a moment, knowing her words were some that others had probably asked. But it was something she wanted to know the answer to herself, before she did anything. A soft clearing of her throat and the angel focused again on the hunter she had decided to help. “Why don’t you think you’re worthy of saving? Heaven itself-- God himself-- has found you worthy many a time. And yet you ask me to help only a woman you care for and not yourself.”

The woman seemed, again, hesitant, like she wasn’t sure what kind of reaction her words would cause, and she was smart to be so but the slowness also sorta bothered Dean. He wished she’d just spit it out and hurry the moment along. Time was not his friend, never really had been, but even more so lately, that he did not like to waste it. Eventually, she asked her question, one he didn’t expect, and again, he felt exposed with her hitting too close to home. Stupid perceptive angels. He scoffed under his breath, shaking his head, before answering. “I need Ry safe. Alright? Away from Crowley. That’s all that matters. Everything else...” He swallowed, looking down for a second and then back up with a weak smile plastered on his lips. “Well, let’s just say I’ve accepted my fate.” The smile vanished as his determination came back. “But Ry’s fate is not sealed. Not as Crowley’s-- super suit. No. She deserves better.”

She listened to his words, heard and saw the emotions. For the most part, he seemed sincere and devoted to what he said. But she had been on Earth a long time, had spent decades of her existence among humans. During that time, she had found that every man, woman and child had a will to live that never went away. So while Dean was honest in his declaration, she could see he was not so fully committed to that acceptance as he would like to believe.    Love did that to people. His love for the woman, Auryon, and for his brother while we were on the topic, overwhelmed everything else. But it was that love, she could tell, that kept a part of Dean Winchester from really, truly accepting his fate. A fate that she wasn’t so sure he was doomed to.    “I’ll help her to my fullest ability,” she promised when he finished speaking. “But I’m not giving up on you so easily. Castiel has not, therefore I will not either.” Not that Cas would know her as anything other than a sibling. But it was difficult not to know of and about all that Castiel had done and was doing.

If Dean knew what she was thinking, and what she had concluded, he would’ve repeated himself about angels being perceptive. Because, yes, she was right, he couldn’t actually fully accept that his time was up. He wanted to, it’d make things easier, and he could actually have some peace of mind, but there were two things stopping him. And he needed to know they were safe and that they would be okay before he could finally let go.    Mac promised she’d help with Ry, but that she wasn’t going to give up on him either. “Fine, whatever,” he said after a moment, not as comforted by that as she may think. “But only after you’ve done everything you can t’help her. She comes first.”

She accepted his gruff agreement of her words with a small smile, giving him a nod in response to his final demand. “Of course,” she agreed softly. “She will be my foremost concern, Dean. You have my word on that.” She knew her word, to him, would mean little. But it was the most important and strongest promise and bond she could offer. It was not something she gave lightly, and never had. In all her time, she could count on her hands the number of humans she had truly offered her binding word to. But, of course, he would not know nor care for this fact.

Dean allowed himself a deep breath, nodding. He still needed to check with Cas, make sure this angel was who she said she was before he could actually trust her to do anything, but if she could really help... Having another angel on their shoulder was something they could use. “I want you t’promise me somethin’ else, too,” he muttered after a moment, looking back at her. “If I--” He swallowed thickly but continued all the same. “If it becomes too late for me... I won’t become that thing again. So I, uhm-- need ya t’take me out. Just in case Cas isn’t around. Do whatever you have to, but... Don’t let me come back with black eyes. I can’t...” He shook his head, trying to escape the memories that had formed. “I won’t relive that.”

She allowed him to get his request out, keeping her gaze on him but her mouth closed. His demeanor had changed enough that she knew his words held a deep importance. Once he finished, she pressed her lips together thoughtfully, nodding slowly. “Again, my word. I would not wish that on anyone.” She assured. But she felt a sharp jolt within at his request. She truly hoped it wouldn’t come to that; she didn’t truly know if she’d be able to follow through. A normal demon, sure. A Knight was harder. Especially one that also happened to be Dean Winchester. “You have nothing to worry about.”

Dean stared at her intently, making sure the importance of his request got through to her and searching for any flicker of deception on her host’s face. A moment later, satisfied, he dialed it back and scoffed dryly at her assurance that he didn’t have to worry. “No, but you will if you don’t stop me,” he replied, again giving her a meaningful glance before he dropped it, pawing absently at his arm with the blade still held loosely in his fist. “Do ya keep your ears on or do I need a number to get a hold of ya?”

She had to force herself not to sigh at him as he got that final comment in. She knew Castiel was busy with other things, such as Heaven, but she also knew he’d never neglect helping Dean. Especially with a situation such as this. And she’d do her best to assist.

“I have a phone,” she confirmed, “But I also listen for those who need me. I’ll give you my number, however, just in case.” It was best he had more than one way to call her, anyway. That way he’d be sure to get her attention when he needed it.

“Phones are better for me anyhow,” Dean admitted, still not comfortable, even through the years, with praying, and fished out his phone from his pants’ pocket. He pressed a couple of buttons, the phone beeping as he did so, before he held it out for the young blonde to take. “I hope you’re more familiar with technology than the rest of the God Squad.”

She smiled at his phrase ‘God Squad’. “I know my way around it.” She chuckled, punching in her number. “I’ve been around Earth a little more than most of the others.” She added as she handed the phone back. “Is there anything I can do for you while I am here? I have some time, and I know Castiel is busy.”

Well, that was refreshing to hear. Training Cas hadn’t exactly been easy, to say the least, and he still didn’t fully comprehend the voicemail function. “That’s a relief,” he uttered, taking back the tiny machine and re-pocketing it. The angel-- Mac asked then if she could do anything for him while she was there, like she was a new maid he had just hired.    “Uh.” He hesitated, again wanting to run her name by Cas first, but... “Ya know of any cases in the area?”

She squinted thoughtfully at his question, sending out her senses to fell for anything unnatural around them. A few docile beings, but nothing causing a disturbance. Not in the immediate area, at least. As she pushed herself further away, she caught the sensation of a demon. Strong, dangerous. Wreaking havoc. She snapped back to the tiny room with Dean and focused on the hunter. “There’s a demon.” She said softly. “Three towns over. Been there a while, somehow keeping under the radar. He’s powerful.” She locked her gaze on the man. “I’d take great pleasure in helping you destroy him.” She was aware of the change in her tone and demeanor. A danger to her seeping through that she often kept in check. Nothing alarming, just a reminder of the soldier of war she had been created to be and escaped long ago. But certain things brought it out. One of the worst of demons se’d encountered in a while happened to fall into that category.

It was like a switch as she searched the surrounding area with her Grace or whatever; her face went idle, her eyes glossing over, and reminded Dean of a loading screen. He waved a hand in front of her face; no reaction. Not even a blink. Dropping his arm back to his side he waited impatiently through the next few seconds before the angel rebooted and came back online, focusing on him.    “Well?” he asked, eyebrows in anticipation, and she informed him that there was a demon, a strong one, infesting a town not far from where they stood. Not being able to rely just on her word, not yet, and needing to see some kind of proof to back up this claim Dean moved over to his laptop and started typing away.    He was about to ask her the exact town when she locked eyes with him and let out her shocking statement. He was slightly taken aback, but also knew, through past dealings, that some angels could be quite ruthless. Mac just hadn’t come across as one. But that might of had something to do with the fact she was sporting a young woman, barely out of her teens. “Okay, settle down there, Buffy. Just tell me what town he’s in.”

The reference was lost on her, bus she chose not to comment. Instead she simply watched the hunter do what he was best at doing. She rattled off the town the demon was in, now constantly aware of the creature at the edge of her senses. “I don’t mean to sound eager about killing,” she said after a moment of thought. “But this particular demon has a dangerous habit that many avoid. I’d much like to ensure he’d taken care of.”

Dean typed the town into his computer’s search engine and began scanning the news, looking for any tragedy that could be the handiwork of a demon. He was in the middle of a promising article when his company-- someone he almost forgot was still there-- added onto her earlier comment, about not meaning to sound eager when it came to killing. “First off, when it comes to killing demons-- Ain’t nothin’ wrong with some eagerness. Just as long as it doesn’t get ya killed. Being able t’dance on their graves is definitely a perk of The Job,” he told her, glancing up from his screen. “Secondly-- How much experience ya got with demons? ‘Cause I ain’t gonna hold ya hand.”

She let him respond, amuse by his verbiage. She so enjoyed the differing ways humans used their languages. She was more amused by his question, however, and smiled at him as he finished. “I think I can manage,” she replied without hiding her amusement. Not all angels were accustomed to facing demons, but they could all stand their ground with the use of their blades and their Grace. Mac had been on Earth for a millennia, and had faced her fair share of demons during that time.

While Dean knew that Angels had, yes, been around much longer than he had, there was no guessing how much field work and how recent this particular angel had logged. Especially when he knew that it had only been a few years now that they had come down from their perches on the observation deck. He just didn’t want her in the way. He needed a kill, his body taut with the undeniable urge, and this demon had just made top of the List. “Uh huh,” Dean replied after squinting slightly at her once again expressed cockiness. Over-confidence could often be an issue when it came to hunting. “Well, if I decide t’say yes to God as my co-pilot... Just-- make sure t’stay outta my way.” That wasn’t said out of over-confidence but rather a warning, knowing just how badly he needed this, and the Mark wasn’t picky whose blood it fed on. “An’ that you follow my lead.”

She wasn’t ignorant to the sensation of pure need that came from him. She was aware of the cause and what the need was. She had done well to ignore it. If she was honest, she normally would have pushed the subject until the other snapped. But this was different. She had seen what it made Cain into. That Dean had withstood for so long was something to be said for his strength. But no on was completely unbreakable. Clearly he had found ways to sate the bloodlust, but that didn’t make it safe. In fact, it could be quite the opposite if they weren’t careful. “Right,” she replied with as much cheer as she could muster. “You’re the boss.”

Dean nodded once, satisfied and somewhat relieved that she chose to comply instead of argue. While angels were usually prone to following Mac had already said herself that she had chosen a more independent, lesser traveled path to walk. But she had seemed keen on helping him... Leaning back, away from his laptop, he reached across the bed to grab his phone off the nightstand. A notification showed a text from Sam, but Dean ignored it for now and went to his contacts, clicking on Cas’s name. He shot him a text, asking him about Mac and what he knew about her, before throwing it back over his shoulder. “So, Mac,” he started, looking towards the screen and to her. “What made you decide t’go rogue?”

A smirk formed at his question. that was a long story that they didn’t have time for. Luckily, she had a shorter version. “I’ve been on Earth for a very long time. Since about the time the vikings rose up.” She shrugged. “You could say I was a bit of a rebellious teenager. I thought humans had more to offer than my siblings did. I wanted to be among them, to learn about them... and I just never went back.”

Controlling family meets rebellion; that’ll do it, as Dean knew too well. “So, basically you’re The Little Mermaid,” he summed up for her, and as an afterthought hoped she didn’t understand that reference. “Do you regret it?”

She lifted a brow at his reference. “I suppose you could say that. But instead of giving up my voice, I gave up everything I knew. And no, I don’t regret it one bit.” She should be surprised that she didn’t have to think, just answered, but after so long she should be able to answer that question with ease. Still, she would always have that little nagging feeling in the back of her mind.

To be fair Dean hadn’t actually watched the Disney flick but just happened to stumble across its plot lie when browsing the internet for research on sirens. It was a strange thing for him to retain, but strange is what usually stuck with him. That didn’t stop the slight reddening of his face, however, when she gave him a peculiar look.    He cleared his throat, looking back at the screen. “Good,” he commented. He didn’t need an angel who wasn’t fully committed. And as soon as he heard back from Cas, he could actually begin to trust her, if only just so.

Dean clicked on a few articles before deciding that it was enough to go on and shut his computer. He got up and started packing up his few loose items, but was still careful around the woman.

She had to hide the small smirk that formed at his small display of embarrassment. It didn’t even phase her but he was able to reference a children’s movie. Hadn’t every human seen it? The short response was again not unexpected. She was just glad he hasn’t tried to kill her yet.    As he moved around the room, packing up his items, she took the time to look around and get to know the type of person he was. Neater than she expected, but not so neat that it was unusual. Any human that was particularly tidy was not always as they seem.

“We’re taking my car,” he informed, leaving no room for argument, as he finished his task. “That means no zapping. You’re gonna sit your ass in the vehicle an’ you’re not gonna whine about it. Also, there will be no touching of the radio.--Now I’ve sent word to Cas, an’ if you don’t sit right by him then you won’t by me either. You can go find some other Hunter to flock with. We understand each other?” He wasn’t unkind as he spoke to the young woman, but merely stating that that was the way things were gonna be.

Her brows lifted, but she didn’t argue. In fact, she had to fight not to let her smile of glee show. She loved cars. Sure, they were slower than flying, but they fascinated her. The mention of her brother had her nodding. She was sure Cas remembered her and knew she was not a danger. But she couldn’t help the tinge of worry she had that, for some reason, he had forgotten her or that his feelings had changed. “I understand,” she stated. “Like I said; you’re the boss.”

Dean took a moment to pause, searching her expression thoroughly as he was trained to do, but seeing no deception he nodded once, satisfied. “Yes, I am,” he murmured as he moved past her, opening up the door. His manners kicked in then, as he stood to the side and waited for her to exit first. He’d also feel better to have her in front of him, instead of behind, as they made their trek to Baby.

She offered a sweet smile as he held the door for her. “Thank you,” she added as she passed and exited the room. She blinked at the change in light and the shift in the sounds around her. “Is there anything specifically you’d like me to do when we get where we’re going?” She wondered.

Dean acknowledged her thank you with a curt nod but no comment, shutting the door behind them.    Once outside he squinted, repositioning his bag across his shoulder, and gestured towards the shiny black Impala just across the tiny parking lot. The Angel took the time to ask an inquiry as they walked the cracked, worn pavement. “Don’t die,” was the first thing that came to mind. If the demon was as powerful as she suggested he’d need the backup. “Oh, an’ don’t let me die.” With a squeak, the trunk opened and Dean unloaded his crap before shutting the hatch again. “Though, it would be funny t’see the demon’s face when I resurrected...” He had a small, amused smirk playing on his face before it dawned on him that imaging that wasn’t funny.    Giving Mac a side glance he walked over to the driver’s side and got in.

She watched him go through the motions as a man who had done this countless times before. A ghost of a smile crossed her face, fleeting though it was, because it was moments like this that were her favorite part of being among the humans. They were, whether they were noticed or not, private moments. Small peeks into who the person was and what they loved most. This man was made for this job, and he knew that he was. Despite all that he had been through, all that he had lost, he had embraced his life.    “It would certainly be amusing, yes.” She commented with a chuckle. Following his lead, she opened the passenger’s side and climbed in, closing the door once she had settled into the seat. The dashboard seemed miles away from her vessel; clearly a much larger person had sat here before her. “And I won’t let you die.”

Dean had leaned over the bench seat in attempt to open the passenger’s door as an afterthought but only managed to get it unhinged before the small blonde swung it open fully.    Repositioning himself back in his seat he watched her follow suit. The girl she was in seemed so young, almost too young, and it made him wonder about her; if she was still even alive in there. Frowning he looked away, focusing out through the windshield.    After a moment, she’d said that she wouldn’t let him die, to which he nodded and started the car.

They had gotten a few miles down the road, music filling the silence, before Dean turned it down a bit and asked the obvious question. “So... What makes you think you can help me?”

“Which situation do you ask about? Because my answer depends on what you’re seeking information on.” She glanced at him, trying her best not to read emotions that she could see filtering through his green eyes. He was expressive through them, especially when she could tell he was trying to hide all emotion. His curiosity was tinged with more emotions than she wanted to put words to, but especially doubt and suspicion. Both of those made her feel uneasy. Not because she feared him or what he could do to her, because let’s not be ignorant, he could most certainly do plenty to her even without killing her. No, the uneasiness was because she knew that if she didn’t deliver what she was promising she was letting someone else down. And Dean Winchester was not someone you wanted to let down.

Okay, so he thought it was the obvious question. But she did have a point. She had offered to help with more than one problem. “Well, I guess in general,” he answered. “As you know I’ve already for angel help.” An angel he trusted with his life, and knew that if he was able to help him he would have. “An’ no offense or anything, but you don’t strike me as anything special.” And she had already admitted that her power couldn’t touch the Mark, and he knew that it couldn’t sever the link between Ry and Crowley either because Cas had already tried. “Not that having another angel in your corner ain’t useful...” Especially when headed into a fight, like they were now.

She hesitated long enough to think about it. She knew her answer, but she needed to be sure. “I have seen more of my brothers and sisters die than I’d like to count. I haven’t been a part of the inner workings of Heaven for-- a very long time. But I know that it is chaos there, and that Castiel has a lot of work ahead of him.” She paused to lick her lips and pressed them together a moment. “I have seen you, and your brother, come out of situations most would have long failed at. I tend to like to support those I think are the strongest, the winning side. And that’s you, Dean.” She let the words for a few moments while she gathered in the emotions she suddenly felt. She knew she’d said more than he was expecting, but it was needed. She cleared her throat before she finished what she wanted to say. “I’m not the strongest of my kind, certainly. But I’ve been on earth long enough to know more than most. I can offer a different outlook, and I want to do that to help ensure you are able to come out of this standing, again.”

There was a pause, and Dean looked over to see the calculations practically play out in her expression. He wasn’t sure if the hesitation should give him comfort or not. Developed instinct automatically had him doubting, but the woman hadn’t done anything yet to put him totally off to her. So he tried to stow his paranoia for when she did answer he could focus on what she told him.

A little further down the lane she broke the silence and went into a monologue. At first, he was confused at where she was going with it, since it seemed unrelated to what he had asked, but as she continued her thought process connected. Though, if he was being honest, her speech didn’t do much to provide him with the hope he had been subconsciously seeking.    “Well, that’s...very ambitious of you,” he concluded. “If not a little misguided.” But beggars can’t be choosers.

Her gaze snapped to him, and she had the decency to look embarrassed. “Sorry, I got carried away. And while that’s all true-- I also just want this shit to be over with. I’m tired of watching people and Angels die. And you’re the only ones that I know of that can end it. So, I’ll do everything I can to help you.”

Dean frowned and was silent for a moment, wondering if he should say what was lying on his tongue or to just let it slide. He chose the former after clearing his throat. “I uh, know you guys are all about faith or whatever...but uhm-- you may be placing a little too much in me an’ my brother,” he admitted. “I mean, yeah, we’ve taken a few names, but not without costs. We never come out on top. Not really. I can say, looking back over the years, that Death honestly follows us around. I’d hardly refer that to the ‘winning side’.”

She couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. She knew that that was how he felt but it still baffled her to hear him say it. “People die, Dean, every single day. They die of natural causes, they die from accidents, from monsters we can’t catch, and so many other reasons. It’s going to happen no matter what you do, and you can’t control that. And the costs that you speak of? Those are going to come with every situation no matter what side you’re on. But what you and Sam have done? The amount of people that are still alive because of the things you’ve done completely outweigh those that were lost in battle to get there. Of people knew the things that you did, the lives you saved, you would be much more than just Heroes. So you may not see yourself as the winning side, but there are many that do whether you realize it or not.”

His brows furrowed at hearing laughter come from his passenger, when he wasn’t trying to be funny but serious, and he looked over at her, his expression a confused scowl. The angel went on, not explaining her reaction but telling him her side of things, how she saw it. Honestly, most of it, he had heard before, but none of it ever stuck with him, and wasn’t any different. Maybe once he had considered himself a hero, but not anymore. Not after all the crap he’d done and gone through. Not with this brand on his arm.    Dean scoffed under his breath. “Well, sister, then they are just as delusional as you,” he muttered.

She rolled her eyes at his response, sighing and leaning her head back against the headrest. “Delusional or not, you’re stuck with me.” She noted. “Whatever you want or need, just say the word. If Cas isn’t available, I will be.” She knew that meant nothing to him now, before he knew her, but eventually she would be sure he understood the weight behind those words.

Dean was starting to get that, when she said he was stuck with her. At least if she was telling the truth. Again, she hadn’t done anything to cause suspicion, but Dean wasn’t exactly the most trusting of people. Especially as of late. And Angels were no exception. In fact he was probably even less trusting of them than actual people. Given his history, it was understandable.    Suddenly his back pocket vibrated, alerting him of a new message. Maneuvering with ease, while keeping the car straight on course, he dug out his cell. “Speak of the devil,” he murmured, smirking slightly at an afterthought, and opened up the text from Cas.

She didn’t say anything when she noticed his phone go off and that he looked at it. Even if he was driving and looking at his phone, she assumed he had practice on it whereas she certainly did not. She stayed silent and waited for him to speak again, his muttered comment making it clear that her sibling was the one contacting him.

Dean read through the text quickly, ignoring the scattered, and numerous, emoticons throughout it, and while it wasn’t exactly a shining recommendation he was searching for, it was good enough. At least for now. He’d know more about what she was really like after this excursion together. “Good news. Your ass gets to stay planted where it is. At least for now,” he informed. “Your final grade won’t be available until after we close the case, however.”

She quirked a brow at his words, smirking slightly. “Sure, okay. I can live with that. My ass is pretty comfy, anyway.”

“That’s cause that’s where my Sasquatch of a brother usually sits,” he informed. “Definitely been broke in a few miles back... Probably wouldn’t like it too much if he knew you were sittin’ in it though.”

She smiled brightly. “I’m sure he’d change his mind once he got to know me.” She replied, feeling that Sam would be the easier of the two to bond with.

Dean glanced over at her briefly, knowing she was probably right. “Demons are more his type,” he mumbled, a bitter taste in his mouth leaving a sour look on his face.

Mac pressed her lips, knowing the situation that was being spoke of. She hadn’t known that Dean still held on to that he prayed in frustration so tightly. “I didn’t mean in that sense,” she said with a sigh.

“I know what you meant,” he muttered in reply. “An’ you’re probably not wrong. Sammy’s more trusting than me... A little too trusting sometimes. Especially when it comes to the supernatural...and women. Double especially if its both.” He shook his head before he returned his attention back to his cell, pausing for a moment to decide something. Eventually he sent Ry a text to meet him at the town they were headed to.

“Well, you and I both know that he’s not stupid, despite his willingness to trust easily. I’m sure he can muss out whether or not I’m worth trusting.” She certainly hoped that, by then, Dean trusted her, too.

“Yeah, maybe,” Dean said, but he had someone else on his mind to help him determine that. Someone who was a little more hardened like himself; the same person he had just messaged to inform them of a change in plans. “For right now, that doesn’t matter. Like I said your official stamp of approval will be decided at a later date.” Actions spoke loud than words, after all. “In the meantime, we listen to some tunes.” He reached for the dial to turn it on.

Her lips pressed together, and she nodded as the music switched on. She listened for a few minutes, then turned her attention out the window and her thoughts for the remainder of the drive.