Chapter summary: The Winchesters run into an old... friend?
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“Why do we have to suit up while Y/N does the cool stuff?” Dean asked his brother.
“Because you lost a bet. Stop being a sore loser.” Sam answered. “So what if you don’t get to check out the house right away?”
“So what? So Y/N gets to check out a freaking haunted house while we’re stuck here in suits.” Dean grumbled.
“You know what?” Sam asked.
“What?”
“Suck it up.” Sam said, patting Dean’s arm before they got to the crime scene.
“Agents Manns and Moran, FBI.” Dean announced, approaching the sheriff.
The balding man sighed. “More of you? Look, I already told your buddy from the office over there everything.”
“Buddy?” Sam asked.
“Yeah, says his name’s Ballard.” The sheriff answered.
Sam and Dean exchanged glances. Dean shrugged, and they walked in the direction of another man clad in a suit.
“Think he's a hunter or an actual fed?” Dean asked.
“I hope to god it’s a hunter…” Sam replied.
The figure in a suit was talking to a woman, mother of the victim most likely. Tears ran down her face as she recounted her story. The man in front of her, back to the Winchesters, handed over a tissue.
“Such a gentleman,” She sniffed.“Thank you.”
“It’s quite alright, madam. Those are all the questions I have for you today.” He said in a familiar voice. He passed her something else, a business card. “Do call if you remember anything else.”
The mother nodded and the man in the suit turned. The short brown hair, sharp jawline, tone a little too formal for this day and age, it was all very familiar.
“Gadreel?” Dean asked in disbelief.
Gadreel’s eyes widened when he caught sight of the brothers. They expected him to run, maybe even attack. But he just smiled.
“Sam, Dean, it’s been years.” Gadreel said, walking up to the hunters. “I take it you’re here for the disappearance case.”
“Well um… yeah. But why- how are you even here?” Dean spluttered.
Gadreel frowned slightly. He knew with the profession of hunting he'd run into Sam and Dean again sooner or later, it wasn’t a shock that it was now. He could tell that a lot of questions were coming. “I'll explain it all over lunch if you would like to join me.”
Sam looked over at his brother, who shrugged. “Sure.”
Gadreel smiled again. “Wonderful. I believe there's a diner around the corner. Shall we go there?” He asked.
“Sounds good to us, I guess.” Sam replied.
They followed the angel to a nearby diner, saying nothing as they got a booth and sat down. A couple minutes were spent in silence, reading the menu and making sure the angel in front of them wasn’t a shared hallucination.
“So,” Said a waitress, snapping Sam and Dean out of their trance when it was time to place an order. “What’ll it be?”
“Uh... garden salad and a coffee.” Sam ordered.
“Double cheeseburger with extra fries for me, sweetheart.” Dean followed, winking at the waitress.
Gadreel folded his menu, stacking it neatly on top of the others and passing them over to the server. “A stack of pancakes, side of bacon and eggs.”
“And how do you like those?” the waitress asked, smiling at Gadreel and ignoring all of Dean's advances.
“Sunny side up, please.” He replied politely.
She smiled and headed to the kitchen with the three orders.
Sam was the first to break the ice. “So years ago, back in Heaven, you sort of-”
“Exploded.” Dean interrupted.
“Dean!”
Gadreel undid his tie, taking it off and tucking it away in his jacket pocket to avoid getting it stained. “It's quite alright, Sam. He is correct.”
“So how the hell are you back?” Sam asked.
“I've heard stories if my brother, Castiel, sacrificing himself many times yet returning again and again after God rebuilt him.” Gadreel retold. “Are they true?”
“Yeah. The big man upstairs has been generous with Cas.” Dean acknowledged.
“Well, the same happened after my death. Only instead of grace and wings, with flesh and blood.” Gadreel explained.
“Wait,” Sam said. “As in you're human?”
Gadreel nodded. “I'm not sure how much my father would like me to reveal, but yes. I have been for over three years.”
The brothers in the booth across from him weren't sure what to reply with. Congratulations? Condolences? The question of ‘does that make you three years old or do your angel years still count?’
“So out of any career in the world, you chose hunting.” Dean said, raising an eyebrow.
“Indeed.”
“Why?”
“Why? Well, why do you do it?” Gadreel asked. “To help those in need. To continue the mission I was intended to do and redeem myself from my past mistakes.”
“Plenty of those to go around…” Dean mumbled before Sam shot him an icy glare.
“Please, I know I've gone wrong, especially to you, Sam. But this is my second chance to make things right.” The hunter explained.
The grim conversation ended abruptly once the food arrived and warm plates were placed in front of the men. Dean seemed to perk up a little at the sight of the cholesterol nightmare, Sam got to pouring dressing, and Gadreel picked up his silverware.
Gad admired his plate for a bit. “It's fascinating when you think about it. The effort and energy behind your food, the chemistry it took to make it the way it is, the intense combination of flavours-”
“Shut up and eat your bacon before I do, dude.” Dean said with a mouthful of burger.
The once angel smiled and began to eat.
“But Gadreel?” Dean continued. “Feel free to work the case with us.”
You waited by the dirt road outside the old farmhouse, watching as the impala pulled closer. But this time, for some reason or another, it was followed by an old, black, and slightly rusted land cruiser jeep.
Your moved your arm behind you, hand hovering over the gun tucked into your belt. Just in case.
Sam got out the car, Dean followed suit right after. They walked up to you, before the door to the jeep opened and a man you’d never seen before stepped out.
The man was clearly a hunter. He wore jeans, stained with mud and dried blood, knees worn and edges frayed. His shirt was loose and partially covered in a leather jacket, but didn’t hide the fact that the guy was built like a tank. A shotgun was held tightly in his hand, ready to fire rounds of salt.
But more than that, he had the eyes of a hunter. Eyes that told you he could handle a weapon. Eyes that told you he’d been through hell, possibly in a literal sense.
“Y/N, this is Gadreel.” Sam said, introducing the mystery man to you. “He’s working the case too.”
Gadreel smiled at you and in that moment, you forgot how to speak. “Uhhhhhhh…”
Sam cleared his throat. “So, the house?”
“Right! The house.” You remembered. “I talked to the neighbours, nobody will touch the place apart from on a dare. Gotta be haunted.”
Gadreel nodded. “Then we had better take care of that.”
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Gadreel frowned slightly. He knew with the profession of hunting he’d run into Sam and Dean again sooner or later, it wasn’t a shock that it was now. He could tell that a lot of questions were coming. “I’ll explain it all over lunch if you would like to join me.”
Send me a word and I’ll give you a line from a work in progress!
The grim conversation ended abruptly once food arrived and warm plates were placed in front of the men. Dean seemed to perk up a little at the sight of the cholesterol nightmare, Sam got to pouring dressing, and Gadreel picked up his silverware.
Send me a word and I’ll give you a line from a work in progress!
The Japanese Weight Loss Hack You've Got To Try | Culture Shock
The Japanese Weight Loss Hack You’ve Got To Try | Culture Shock
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Welcome to the first episode of culture shock, a series that brings you fitness and nutrition trends from all over the world.
Cheers to making us just a little bit wiser and more alert with what the rest of the world is upto while we’re happily existing on our own continent, and of course – putting their to use in our own lives.
The idea is to keep you fit and for you to have a flat…
