We Watched, We Waited..there was Only Silence (alphaxkiki)

[Alpha*]

Let me Just begin by stating a few things about this role-play


1) That this is a 1x1 with Kiki14 and I (Alpha*).

2) Please refrain from posting, but feel free to read (reading has never hurt anyone..)

3) This is a fandom-based 1x1 about Supernatural (The TV show/ dvd series) - we claim nothing as our own - All rights reserved to the owners. Thank you.

4) We will follow all CS rules.

5) Spoiler and Improv alert..

6) Destiel Gender twist - Dean is a girl, Cass and Sam are guys (all other charries are improv and such as from the TV)

7) Thank you!

8) ps - this is a doover

[Alpha*]

Plot:

From Season 3, with improv

[Keke14]

Dean Winchester

She still couldn't believe it, somehow she made it out. The memories of He** burned in her mind haunted her everywhere, especially her dreams. It felt like a lifetime, it was a lifetime. 40 years in the span of four months on Earth. The unspeakable things she did while she was down there, the suffering she endured... Shaking her head, Dean looked around her. The storm outside the old barn raged on, growing stronger by the second as if something powerful was creeping in. At first the thunder was a whisper, the lightning dim in the distance, but the wind was howling louder and louder with every passing breath. Bobby was standing at the ready, he was the closest thing Dean had to family. Before she could go find Sammy, she had to fight whatever big bad had crafted her escape from her eternal prison. The pair stood in silence, Dean double checking every sigil they wrote around the barn walls to prevent whatever it was that was coming for them from entering. They thought of everything; no demon could break in, no ghost could slip through the cracks, no witch could walk through their warding, and no wendigo could follow their scent here. Whatever it was on the way, it'd have to be one tough son of a gun to get in.

"Dean," Bobby called from behind her. He was reading through some lore to try and narrow down what exactly they were dealing with. What could be strong enough to break her out of the underworld? She turned her head, not wanting her back to the door when whatever it was came through, if it could. "I know it may sound a little far-fetched," he started, a bolt of lightning so close lit up the entirety of the inside of the large abandoned barn. Bobby continued, but whatever it was he tried to say was drowned out by the immediate booming thunder that shook the whole barn. For a split second Dean thought the whole place would come crashing down around them, but instead the dimly lit lamps hanging from the ceiling simply burnt out.

'Darn it.' She thought crossly, looking back to the front door in expectation. Her and Bobby held up their respective weapons, him a couple of large sawed off shotguns filled with salt rounds, her a pistol filled with silver bullets. Dean was adorned with a large machete at her side, the demon killing knife tucked in her waste band in it's holster, and a sawed off shotgun with more salt rounds hanging from her left side holster. They were ready for anything, or so they thought...

[Alpha*]

Rightious Woman! he'd called but she didn't seem to think his words were for her. Be Not Afraid! I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition. Fear not. but he watched as she... fortified..the structure. Is she Afraid? Of him? Fear Not, Dean Winchester. his heavenly voice causes the building to shutter, as if the storm were stronger than it is. Maybe she cannot understand him, not the way that that woman - who he had warned to not look could, but had looked anyway.

Instead, he returns and gathers up Jimmy Novak and comes back to the barn. The barn with the storm and the warding. The barn where the Rightious Woman is prepared to fight to the death with one Robert Singer. His task. His mission. Why is she so difficult?

The doors swing open, slaming on their hinges and he strides into the barn, confident and powerful. Lips twitch into the start of a smile when he gazes upon her. Her soul is so bright! Brighter than when he'd rescued her! It's beautiful. "Dean Winchester. "

[Keke14]

Dean Winchester

The barn exploded with lights and sparks as a human-like being strode into the busted open barn doors. The storm raged outside, thunder, lightning, the howling of the wind. Dean jumped, but stood her ground, narrowing her eyes at the powerful man before her. As he walked toward them, Bobby stepped forward to stand at her side, firing shell after shell of salt rounds into the beings chest. Dean followed suit, unloading a clip of the silver bullets, each one hitting their mark, but none slowing the "man" down. Dean was perplexed when her name was uttered, the voice deep and gruff, but not overly off-putting. She narrowed her eyes, tossing her gun aside and running at the creature, ripping her demon-knife from it's sheath and plunging it into the being's chest. She looked into it's eyes, fear gripping her as she realized no light flowed from the knife or the creature. Her face remained composed, if not a little surprised. Dean's fighting spirit faltered a moment as she released the knife, taking a slow step back, but looking between the knife and the man's eyes in wonder.

'If it's not a demon, then what it is?!' she thought crossly, her teeth clenching as she awaited whatever retaliated attack the creature would launch at her. What could have been powerful enough to walk right past all their warding, all their spells, and hexes? Bobby stayed back, out of salt and silver rounds, he too stared at the being before the young hunter in utter amazement.

[Alpha*]

~ Castiel Novak ~

The bullets and salt don't hurt; even the demons' blade is barely a nuisance, but not painful. He reaches up pulls it from his chest - and drops it. It clatters onto the floor and the creature takes another step forward. "Dean. Winchester." Michael Sword. Rightious Woman. "Be Not Afraid."

His chin dips to his chest briefly, blue eyes shining in the darkness- the lights exploding and spark. A twitch of lips; is it a smile or smirk? An (un)holy fusion of the two? He reaches out two fingers, presses them against Bobby's forhead and sends him unconscious and to the floor. "Fear Not, Dean. " Is stated again, letting his hand drop. "I am Castiel. " He hesitates briefly, "I am the one who gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition. "He expects no thanks; it's his job. His mission. His purpose.

It is HIS FATHER'S will.

Stepping past the unconscious hunter and the ineffective blade he moves to the pedestal like table. Then he looks at the books of lore, scattered on the table, turns a few pages. "Your friend is not dead. Fear Not. " Hadn't he been saying that? Won't she listen? Doesn't she recognize him?

[Keke14]

Dean Winchester

Dean's eyes widen as the being before her takes the demon killing knife from it's chest and drops it to the ground, completely unaffected. She stays silent as he walks past her, touching Bobby's head with two fingers and dropping him to the floor, dead or unconscious she couldn't tell yet. Then she hears the answer to the question she's held in her mind since the moment she broke the surface of her shallow grave. "You?" she whispers in shock, watching the powerful, creature walk past the downed hunter. Dean rushed to Bobby's side, checking his pulse and then hearing the being state he is not dead, have no fear. How could she not be afraid in this moment?

"I'm not afraid of you," she lied, standing up and stepping between him and Bobby. 'Castiel, what kind of name was that? A demon? impossible, he would have been stopped at the door!' "I have a few questions though," she continued roughly, eyes narrowed in distrust. "For starters, what are you?" she demanded, feeling a tad naked without a useful weapon in her grip.

[Alpha*]

~Castiel Novak~

Well, him and legions of other angels dispatched to fight to free the Rightious Woman. Many of whom who died.. and it WAS him who took her out of that place. He, who had seen an opportunity amid the fighting to succeed and taken it- resulting in her returning to earth. He who had knit back together her bones and flesh. He who placed her soul back into its' body. My brothers. My sisters. And how his family, soldiers every one, had fought. Lost lives. Followed orders. And it hadn't even been HIS purpose! It was meant to be MICHAEL who'd saved her, not Castiel. But the opportunity, the requirement, when he was the only one so deep in Perdition, and one of so few to even survive the mission. And he had. He'd succeeded! Mourning for our dead, Rejoicing for her to live again.

But she wouldn't know that. Wouldn't- couldn't- understand that. The loss. How could she? It's much bigger than her. She can barely grasp the concept of what he is (maybe) and the now. Would she even care, if she could comprehend?

The thoughts race through the creatures mind, but he doesn't say them. Instead he listens to her- Dean Winchester. "I mean you- and your companion Robert Singer - no harm." Is it false bravado or true courage that has her teeth set, eyes narrowed and her trying to figure out some weapon to maim or kill him? She would find none. Then, the creature nods impercibly; of course she has questions. Jimmy, his vessel had questions. (Admittedly fewer, and with a couple of miracles the man had agreed). He flips another couple of pages, eyeing the symbols for warding - finding none against his kind. No lore on angels.

"Hmm," Is answered without looking at her - for surely the brightness of her soul would dazzle him yet again. And he's not prepared for it. Or, perhaps he would have to tell her everything, as he so wants to do, and that just wasn't what he is supposed to do. Books and scrolls and paraphernalia are set aside and he slowly turns back to her - brushing a hand down his chest and the clothing is back to 'new'.

It's not his mission to explain.

It IS his mission to ... nudge Dean Winchester into the right direction to become more suitable for Michael. It is his mission to calm her fears, erase her doubts, aid and protect her (as needed) and offer placation. It is his mission to be here, right now. And if she calls.

"I am an Angel of the Lord."

[Keke14]

Dean Winchester

Dean felt a tickle in her throat, "You're... An angel?" she shook her head, stifling a laugh from exploding from her lips. In all her years fighting monsters and discovering demons, there has been no mention of angels. Another look down at her unconscious companion chased away any amusement in her apple green gaze. She looked back to Castiel, eyeing his body up and down for any sign of truth in his words. She noticed his subtle movements, and the way his clothes appeared to magically regenerate from the onslaught of shotgun shells and a minor stab with a useless knife. "That's not possible," she frowned, eyes growing distant. The young hunter fought for a minute to conjure up the reason an angel would save her.

"Angels aren't real," she started, stepping around Bobby to look at the pile of books stacked around the multiple tables. They had searched non-stop for an answer to what would be powerful enough to bring her back from He**, let alone powerful enough to actually get past the gates in the first place. It would make sense, but she refused to believe. Because if angels were real, that would mean that God was real, and she couldn't believe in a being so powerful being so neglectful of all the people in the world. Dean bent down, grabbing the demon killing knife. She remained crouched another moment, looking at the inscriptions, the Latin phrases that were strong enough to harm a demon, but didn't even leave a scratch on this Castiel.

Standing up right, Dean turned once more to face Castiel. "If you don't mean us any harm, why have you knocked out my friend?" she asked, sliding the knife into it's sheath. She was trying to buy time, trying to figure out how she could leave a mark on this unknown foe standing before her. She felt sick, undeserving of a second chance in the first place, but if it was the will of an angel... "No, it doesn't make any sense!" She forced a laugh, verbalizing her inner turmoil, "Why on Earth would an angel waste its time saving me?" she finally asked the question she's been dreading since she woke up. Her eyes gazed into Castiel's, wanting a real answer, needing to hear a reason for her return. Dean was a nobody, a killing machine pointed in the right direction by other people, nothing more. She didn't matter in the grand scheme of life. Bobby got along just fine without her, and she was sure Sammy did the same.

[Alpha*]

~ Castiel Novak ~

He's looking at some warding on the wall, "Good things do happen, Dean." Is said gently, too gently. The angel turns back to her far too slowly, as if she would disintegrate should he move any faster. He knows she's appraising him, looking for weakness. She would find none to exploit. Not today anyhow.

Why did he knock out her friend? "We needed to speak." Is answered at last, "and Robert Singer is not yet prepared for the truth. If you choose to share then you may. It is not my mission." The blue eyed creature waves a hand idly.

And then, as if he can contain himself no longer,, He moves closer to her, a step, then another - until all of a sudden he is in her personal space. "Because, God commanded it, and it was done." There is a certain power in his stance, daring her to argue that she wasn't worth it. Because she is. As if that order, that command,, sums up everything: the Plan. The death toll. Her pain. Humanity. (It hardly scratches it.) He swallows, lips parting - and steps back. "This is your problem. You have no Faith."

Lightning cracks and the wind goes still before wooshing forward with a vengeance. The Lightning cracks again and he spreads his wings - their shadows splayed on the walls behind himself. And he's glowering at her. Would thus proof be enough? Then, wings are folded and he looks like a regular man again. But...

Castiel laments, "What's the matter?!" He asks, voice a whisper of grief. His head tilts to the right, blue eyes squinting at her response as he watches her. Slowly he straightens, eyes widening again, "You..." There's that gentle, comforting, disbelieving tone again. "You don't think you deserve to be Saved."