Every story I write has a story behind it. This one is especially interesting.

Basically, I've had this uidea for a looooong time, just running wild in my head. I wanted to know if anyone else ahd done an angel story, so I checked around LJ and You know what I found? Wincest. Lots and lots of Wincest. It appears that everytime Dean sprouts wings, he also develops an unhealthly (and illegal) affection for his little brother. My response to these stories: a resounding EEEWWW!!!!

My solution: On Angel's Wings

So, enjoy a story about angels that DOES NOT INVOLVE WINCEST.

Just a fair warning: the first chapter's a bit slow, but things'll pick up next time I update!

Title: On Angel's Wings

Summary: When Sam is kidnapped by a cult, Dean lashes out at the one person he shouldn't have, and the result is a soring good time (yeah, I know... totaly pun).

Warnings: Torture scenes, language, violence. You know... Supernatural stuff.

Disclaimer: Come on... if I owned the show would I have to write fanfics? I don't think so!


On Angel's Wings

The hunt had been sidetracked, and that did not make Dean Winchester a happy man. Sure, he'd liked the girl, had felt something special between the two of them, some sort of connection, but it wasn't enough to make him give up a hunt for her funeral. Besides, the whole thing was kind of depressing.

She had told him to have faith, that things would turn out in the end. Dean had almost believed her. Well, she'd been wrong. Dead wrong.

Maybe part of him had wanted to buy into it, to believe that there really was some higher power watching his back, someone who could make the dying girl better. Now, however, what little faith he'd had had been shaken. Layla Rourke was dead. Her body had finally turned on her. She'd outlived her doctor's expectations, sure, but in the long run that did her no good.

Sam had insisted they go to the funeral, pay their final respects. The cult they were chasing down would just have to wait, dangerous as it was. Three people had already gone missing in the small Nebraskan town, but, apparently, that wasn't as important as lowering Layla into the ground.

The mourners bowed their heads to pray, but Dean didn't see the point. It wasn't like anyone was actually listening. There was no good in the world, his father had told him so. No good, just darkness, evil, and despair. Somehow, Dean was all right with that.

Maybe Sam believed that there was some righteous force out there, but it would take some serious convincing to convert his brother.

It wasn't that Dean didn't believe good existed, because he knew for a fact that it did. His mother, for example, had been a good person. So had his father, before the fire. Jess, too, he assumed, had been an angel. Now she was a real one, if you believed in that nonsense.

People were staring, but the elder hunter didn't care, hardly noticed. His mind was on the hunt, not the funeral. The cult, one their father had started tracking years before, was making a move in the town. The victims all had one thing in common: at least one member of their family had died in a terrible nursery fire when the victims were six months old. To the Winchesters, that meant one thing: the demon.

Sam elbowed him roughly in the side and Dean reluctantly bowed his head. He supposed the cult was going after psychics, but how they found the folks was a mystery. In truth, he was starting to get worried. For all he knew, Sammy could be the next victim.

As Dean stood beside Layla Rourke's newly-dug grave, he had no idea how accurate his secret thoughts truly were, or who was listening in on them.


The group of people, ten in all, their faces covered by dark hoods, stood in a circle in the middle of the mansion. Their father had been good to them. Now it was time to repay that kindness.

The mansion's front door flew open as a man and woman entered the room, holding hands. The man smirked. "You have no idea how truly messed up that guy is," he chuckled, "I almost bailed. He's so confused."

"You got what father wanted?" one of the hooded figures asked coldly, wiping the smirk off the man's face.

"Yes, sir. They're hunting us, just as father said, but they have no idea who we are or where we reside. They just know why we're here, why father wanted us."

The woman beside him, a radiant beauty with flowing red hair and glistening green eyes, nodded. "It should be easy to get the younger alone, and that should cause the elder to spiral into a sort of blind panic. We'll make father proud with this one."

The hooded man nodded. "And if we have any problems?"

The woman smiled. "I'll distract him. Shouldn't be too hard. If that doesn't work, Jimmy here can always put the whammy on him."

Jimmy began to smirk again. "Shouldn't be too hard to bring him down. The truly deranged are always the easiest to hurt. I'll turn his own thoughts against him."

The hooded figures all smiled, anticipating the entrance of a new member into the cult.


See... told you it was kind of slow :)

Oh well. You know the speil. Read, review, and maybe I'll write more :)