Angels Among Us
Disclaimer: I own nothing, these wonderful characters belong to Kripke and the CW.
Takes place mid third season, between Malleus Maleficarum and Dream a Little Dream of Me.
Dean was making his way slowly and quietly through the abandoned building. Well it wasn't really abandoned, it was being inhabited by a nest of vampires – and they had Sam. Every instinct Dean had was screaming at him to run through the building and find his brother, regardless of the consequences, but those consequences would likely get both of them killed and that wasn't an option. It was Dean's job to protect Sam, and he couldn't do that if he were dead, so instead, Dean was using all the caution he had as he stealthily crept along. He held his machete in his hand, the smell of blood on it from the two newly headless vampires he'd already met was sure to attract the others – they were like sharks, and could smell fresh blood from quite a long way off.
Dean was still mentally kicking himself for landing the two of them in this mess. They had been on the trail of one of the demons that had escaped from the Devil's Gate, when they caught a hint that there was a vampire nest nearby and they had to check into it. While leaving a shady bar, two of the vampires had jumped them, knocking Dean out and dragging an unconscious Sammy off with them. Dean wasn't stupid, he knew this was a trap and that the vamps were using Sam as bait to lure him in; two birds with one stone sort of deal. Dean also knew that this wasn't Lenore's nest, it was the remains of Luther's family, and his bitch, Kate, had a score to settle with the Winchester brothers. So Dean knew that Sam was still alive, Kate would want to keep him that way until she had both brothers, she probably wanted to torture them in front of each other, a payback for blowing away Luther right in front of her. Vampires mate for life, and Dean was willing to bet that Kate was still majorly pissed.
Creeping along behind a row of wooden crates, Dean heard a soft shuffling sound before being knocked to the ground by Kate herself. She was screaming, her hands going around his neck trying to choke the life out of him. Dean was trying to fend her off while simultaneously scrabbling for the machete that had fallen to the concrete floor when Kate got the drop on him. Kate's super-human strength had him pinned to the ground, he couldn't reach the machete and he couldn't reach the Colt that was tucked into the waist of his jeans at the small of his back. He could feel the cold metal pressing into his skin as he wrestled the enraged vamp, it was almost mocking him, and he knew if he could just get her off him for a second he would be able to grab it and blow the bitch away.
Dean could hear the sound of running footsteps coming towards them and thought, 'this isn't good.' He couldn't overpower two vampires. There was the sound of something whistling through the air and suddenly Kate's head was rolling across the floor, her neck spurting blood onto his shirt and he quickly pushed the corpse off him. Looking up from his prone position on the floor he saw his rescuer was not Sam, as he had hoped, but a woman with long red hair and a big-ass sword.
Dean quickly got to his feet and pulled the Colt out from behind him in one fluid motion. He jumped back, putting several feet between him and the armed woman, leveling the gun at her chest. 'A freaking sword!' He thought.
'Well that's a fine thank-you,' she said in a rolling accent Dean figured for Scottish. 'Could you please put that down?'
'Who are you?' Dean growled, ignoring Kate's head near his feet, staring at him with lifeless eyes.
The woman tossed her long coppery hair over her shoulder, and gave Dean a patronizing glare. 'I'm no enemy of yours, so please stop pointing that at me.'
'I said, who are you?' Dean asked forcibly, jabbing the gun in her direction for effect.
She sighed wearily, as if Dean were pointing a water gun at her instead of the world's most deadly pistol. 'I just saved your life,' she said bitingly, still holding the dripping sword in her hand, 'we're on the same side.'
'I've had people say that to me before…then they try to kill me.'
'If I wanted you dead, I would have let her finish you off you ungrateful little shite,' she said as she took a step towards the decapitated vampire.
'Don't move!' Dean barked.
'If it will make you feel better,' she said while kneeling beside the body and wiping the blood from the blade on the dead vamp's shirt, 'then shoot me.' She stood up and in a blindingly fast motion the silvery blade whirled in the air and disappeared in a sheath strapped to her back. She held her empty hands up in front of her. 'I put away my weapon as an act of good faith, will you do the same?'
'Something tells me that you could draw that thing back out just as fast lady.'
'Same to you young warrior,' she nodded her head at the colt.
Young Warrior? What is she – like two days older than me? Dean tightened his grip on the gun, still keeping it pointed at her chest. She was a tall woman, maybe only a couple inches shorter than him, and she was beautiful in a frightening sort of way, like a lioness crouched in long grass. Her hair was a reddish coppery-gold color – if such a color was possible, and she had the build of an athlete. But Dean was transfixed by her eyes. Not certain if it was a trick of the light in the dimly lit warehouse, but they looked like they were a sharp and piercing yellow – like a hawks.
'I asked you who you were,' Dean said slowly, not hiding the danger in his voice, if she made one wrong move, she'd have a new hole in chest.
'Will knowing my name make you feel more secure?' She asked.
'Lady, I'm losing my patience. Just tell me who you are and what you're doing here.'
'Well my handsome captor,' she said softly, 'my name is Bren, and I was hunting.' She said her name with a soft rolling rrr sound, prompting Dean's next question.
'Where are you from? England?' Dean barked.
She made a disgusted scoffing sound, 'I'm Scottish you twit.'
'Same difference,' Dean shrugged, still not lowering the gun.
'Look,' she said sharply, 'either shoot me and get it over with, or put the bloody gun away.'
Dean looked her square in the eye and cocked the hammer.
'Be a waste of a bullet,' she said impatiently. 'It may sting something fierce, but it won't kill me.'
Dean looked at her shrewdly, realizing that this girl wasn't human. 'This gun can kill anything,' Dean whispered, 'even a demon.'
'Well, if I were a demon,' she said while rolling her eyes, 'I'm sure I'd be rather frightened. As it is, I'm no Devil's reject, and no earthly weapon can kill me. So please put it away, this is getting tiresome.'
'If you're not a demon, then what are you?'
'Something tells me you wouldn't believe me if told you.'
Gesturing angrily to the vampire head at his feet he replied, 'I believe in some pretty freaky shit Sweetheart, try me.' The colt never wavered.
'I'm an Angel,' she said simply.
Dean made a disbelieving snort. 'There's no such thing!' He scoffed.
'And yet, here I am,' she held her arms out and let them fall back to her sides.
Dean stared hard at her. She was standing there calm as can be, completely unfazed by the weapon pointed at her, looking as if she was getting bored and wishing he would hurry up and make up his mind about what he was going to do with her. Holding the Colt steady with one hand he reached into his coat pocket with the other hand and withdrew the flask of Holy Water he always carried with him. Tossing the flask to her, she easily caught it. 'If you're not a demon, then drink that and prove it.'
'What is it?' She asked.
'What if you're lying and it's something that will poison me?' She asked while cocking an eyebrow.
'Just drink it. Like an act of good faith,' he said snidely.
Bren unscrewed the cap and sniffed the contents. Holding her hands and the flask in full view she slowly walked forward a couple steps and placed the flask on the floor at the point mid-way between them – right next to the vamp's severed and still bleeding neck. Backing up to her original position she said, 'you first my friend. If it is what you say, then you take a drink. If you don't keel over, then I'll take a drink and we can end this stand-off. Your friend is in the next room by the way, tied up and unconscious.'
Shit, he thought, Sammy. Suddenly desperate to get to his brother and remembering where he was, he said, 'there might be more vampires.'
'Not anymore,' she grinned, winking at him.
Wanting this over with so he could find his brother, Dean walked up to the flask. Still holding the gun on her, he crouched, took a swig of the water, and placed the flask back on the floor. Backing up, he gestured with the pistol, 'your turn Babe.'
The tall woman strode to the flask and took a long drink. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she upended the flask to show that she had emptied it. 'Happy now?' She questioned.
'Okay, so you're not a demon, I still don't buy the angel crap.'
She rubbed her forehead in her hand, 'you know,' she said tiredly, 'this is why I don't talk to humans. Disbelieving little…' she trailed off.
Gesturing with the gun, Dean said, 'lead me to my brother. Stay in front of me and go nice and slow. If you make any sudden movement or reach for that frigging sword, I swear that I'll put a bullet in the back of your head. It might not kill you but it'll hurt like a bitch!'
'Untrusting soul, aren't you?' She said under her breath, but loud enough for him to hear.
'It's why I'm still alive Sweetheart,' he said caustically. 'Get moving.'
'Bossy too…must be the older brother.'
She walked slowly and sedately through a doorway, hands held where he could see them, into what probably used to be some sort of large storage room. In the center of the room, upright and tied to a steel column, was Sam. His head was slumped forward and his chin was resting on his chest. The thick and metallic stink of blood was in the air and Dean saw two more headless bodies scattered on the floor. Bren stood off to the side while Dean held his fingers to Sam's throat, still pointing the gun at the red-head. Finding a strong pulse beneath his touch, Dean let out a sigh of relief. Bren took a step towards him and Dean jerked the pistol back up at her.
'What are you doing?' He snapped.
'I'm going to untie him,' she replied as if he were stupid. 'What? Do you just want to leave him bound up there like some sick sort of decoration?'
'Don't come near him,' Dean warned.
'Oh for pity's sake, man!' She yelled, getting angry. 'Get a grip on yourself! If I wanted to harm you I would have done so already. We're on the same side, so if you don't mind, stop thrusting that bloody gun in my face and let's get your brother down.'
'I. Don't. Believe. In. Angels.' Dean growled.
Bren held her arms out, threw her head back and closed her eyes. A soft white glow started to emanate from her and Dean was suddenly touched with a sense of peace. It rocked him, making him sway on his feet. She glowed even brighter and the warm feeling washed its way through his body and encircled his heart, smoothing away the fear and tiredness he felt. God – he didn't know he was so tired. The Colt started to shake in his grip, it was too heavy for his arms, and he didn't care. It felt as if all the good memories he had stored in his mind – and there weren't many of them – came floating up to the surface to fill him with strength and hope. His mother kissing him goodnight, Sammy taking his first steps into his arms, his dad playing catch with him after a hunt, his first home run and his first kiss from the pretty girl in his grade six English class.
Bren stopped glowing, and the feeling started to fade away, but left a tingling residue in its wake. Dean opened his eyes and realized he had fallen to his knees with the Colt held loosely at his side. She stood there, looking at him with such compassion and empathy. Dean opened his mouth to say something and couldn't. He just remained there, mouth hanging open, and didn't move when she knelt before him and took his hand in hers.
'We're fighting the same battle my friend, you don't have to believe me, but please trust that I mean you and your bother no harm. We're outnumbered as it is, and it will only serve the side of evil if we turn on each other.' She looked over her shoulder at Sam's unmoving form. 'Can we get him down now or would you like me to cross a salt circle first?'
Dean snorted at her attempt at levity and nodded his head. She stood and still grasping his hand she helped pull him to his feet. Some one who made him feel so good couldn't be bad…could they?
'Hold him now,' she said from the far side of the column, pulling a knife from her waist and cutting the ropes that held Sam. Sam slumped forward and Dean staggered under his brother's weight. Damn he's heavy.
Bren rushed to his side and helped lay Sammy on the ground away from the dead bodies. Pulling the sword and sheath over her head she laid her weapon on the ground. Removing her coat she balled it up and placed it under Sam head. Dean watched her move, concern for his brother gripping him as they both looked over Sam's body looking for injuries. Bren gently lifted Sam's eyelids, then she started to ghost her hand through his hair. 'Well that's a nasty bump to be sure,' she said, finding an impressive lump on the back of the younger hunters head. 'But I imagine that this thick skull has seen worse.'
'Sister, you have no idea,' Dean agreed.
'Still though,' she continued, 'he should be awake by now. How long since they took him from you?'
'Last night,' Dean answered, a sick feeling welling up from the pit of his stomach.
'Look there,' she said as she pointed at a dried yellowish substance at the corner of Sam's mouth. She wiped her finger along it and brought it up to her nose. Gently sniffing it she whispered, 'they've been drugging him.'
'You don't think they turned him, do you?' Dean felt cold all over, all of Bren's happy tingles were gone now.
'No,' she sighed, 'that's not vampire blood I smell in him.' She looked up at Dean and said, 'did you know?'
'Know what?' Dean asked warily.
'That your brother carries the blood of a demon?'
Dean stared hard at her for several moments, or maybe it was several hours, trying to figure out what to tell her, if he should tell her anything. It wasn't Sam's fault he had been marked by the Yellow-Eyed demon.
'He's my brother,' Dean finally answered, anger creeping into every syllable, 'he's never harmed an innocent person in his life and no one's gonna hurt him as long as I'm breathing.' Dean's eyes bored into hers, wanting her to understand that Sam was under his protection. No matter what was in Sam, he was still his baby brother.
Bren held her arms up in mock surrender, 'Easy friend, I've already promised I wouldn't harm either of you.' She looked at Sam before returning her yellow gaze to Dean, 'I think your brother may have some internal damage. We should wait until he wakes up before trying to move him.' She sat back, leaning against a nearby crate and put her hands behind her head and closed her eyes.
Dean took this moment to get a good look at her. Without the jacket hiding her body Dean could see that her arms and shoulders were layered in lean muscle. Must be from swinging that sword around all day. Frigging thing must weigh a ton. Bren also had a small chest and narrow hips.
Not someone who could sit in comfortable silence, Dean asked her, 'What's heaven like?'
'Sorry, can't tell you. It's a members only thing.'
'Is there sex in heaven?' Dean raised an eye-brow at her.
'Wouldn't be heaven without it.'
'Isn't that like a sin or something?'
'Sex is not a sin – promiscuity is. As long as the other party isn't meaningless to you, you're not doing anything wrong.'
'Well then, I guess I'm shit out of luck.'
She laughed lightly, 'you're still young, you have plenty of time to change your ways before your judgment day.'
'Wouldn't matter,' Dean replied solemnly. 'I'll never see those gates anyway.'
'You sound so certain,' she said, leaning forward and propping her elbows on her knees. 'What have you done that you know you're headed for eternal damnation?'
Dean made a non-committal grunt, wanting the subject to change.
Picking up on his tone she asked, 'do you have a name I can call you, or do you want to keep this whole thing anonymous?' She raised an eye-brow at him.
Dean didn't see any harm in answering her, she had saved his life after all. 'I'm Dean,' he said, and gesturing at Sam's prone body he continued, 'and Sleeping Beauty here is my brother Sam.'
She cocked her head to one side and studied him a moment. 'It wouldn't be Sam and Dean Winchester, would it?'
Dean didn't reply, just narrowed his gaze at her.
'Aahhh. Well there now, it's starting to all make sense,' she smiled at him. 'You don't have to hide who you are from me, Dean.' She shifted over to gently brush her fingers against Sam's forehead. 'They said that you two were easy on the eyes…they weren't kidding.'
'Who said that?' He asked, curiosity getting him every time.
'The other Angles that came back to Earth with me.'
'There are more of you?'
'Quite a few more. When you and your brother opened that Devil's Gate…'
'We didn't open it,' Dean interrupted, 'we were just there and then all the bad shit happened.'
She waved her hand in the air to get him to stop. 'It's alright, I'm not accusing you of anything. When the gate opened,' she amended, 'and the Demon army escaped, there was a call for any Warriors willing to go back and help destroy the evil monsters.'
'And you volunteered?'
'Damn right I volunteered! The chance to come back to earth after being dead so many years, and the chance to fight? I wasn't going to pass that up.'
'So you were human once? You were alive?' He questioned.
'Yes, I was alive once, and then I died.' She looked at him shrewdly, 'do you know where demons come from Dean?'
Dean shook his head yes. Ruby had told him only a few weeks ago that demons were human souls that had their humanity burned off them over several centuries in the pit.
'Aahhh, yes, I can see you do. Angels are similar. After a time in heaven, the soul transforms and becomes an Angel.'
'When were you alive?' He asked softly.
'A long time ago. Back when England and Scotland were nothing but a bunch of bickering tribes and Hadrian's Wall was still relatively new. Those were the days when the Romans were pulling out, and the Danes were setting their sites on our fertile soil.'
'How did you die?'
'Our village was over-run by the Danes one morning. They came out of the morning mists like ghosts, and after-wards burned our village to the ground…along with any person or child who didn't die in the battle.'
'Were you a warrior then?'
'Yes, most women were in those days. It wasn't until later when the Christian church started preaching that only pagan women fought in wars, that women started to hang up their arms. Of course the Roman occupation had a hand in that as well.' She went silent in her own reverie.
Something was pulling at the back of Dean's mind while he sat there and listened to her talk. Suddenly it hit him what was wrong and he asked, 'where is she? That girl whose body you're possessing?'
'I'm not like the demon parasites that steal host bodies.' She said scathingly.
'Then where did you get that one?' Dean accused her.
'It's mine.' She said with an indignant retort.
'Didn't you die, like, centuries ago? Wouldn't your body have turned to dust by now?' Dean replied cynically.
'Would you believe that there are those in Heaven with the power to regenerate a life-form?"
'Like who? God?' Dean snorted.
'I wouldn't know, I've never met the man,' she said softly.
'So he's not sitting on some throne of clouds, answering prayers and handing out judgments on all the sinners?' Dean was getting angry, having never had any faith and suddenly having buckets of it thrown in his face was getting under his skin.
'I've never met anyone who's ever met him, or at least recognized him when they did.' She said while still stroking Sam's hair.
'What the hell is that supposed to mean?'
'There have always been rumors that God left Heaven long ago, and that he chose to walk the earth disguised as a vagrant to better judge the hearts of men.' She looked Dean in the eye, 'people show their true colors to those they deem are less than them.'
Dean thought that God should put an end to his little sabbatical, get back to his post and fix this shit-hole world. Dean didn't know what to say, and thankfully, he didn't have to say anything because at that moment Sam started to come around. In a flash Dean was at his side, lightly tapping the side of Sam's face and whispering, 'come on Sammy, open your eyes!'
'Dean?' He replied groggily. Sam attempted to sit up but Dean pushed him gently back to the floor.
'Easy there tiger. It's okay, you're safe now.' Dean said reassuringly. 'Shit man, you had me worried.'
'Careful now Dean, someone might think you cared or something.' Sam said, his words slurring slightly.
'Sam,' Bren asked softly from the side. Sam started at the sound of her voice. 'How do you feel? I thought there might be some internal damage. Can you tell us if you are hurt anywhere?'
Grabbing Dean's arm in alarm at the sight of the piercing yellow eyes, he asked, 'Dude, who is this?'
'It's okay,' Dean responded, 'she's on our team. In fact, if my figures are correct, most of the dead blood-suckers here are her kills.'
Bren gave him a small nod at the acknowledgement. 'Sam, please, do you have any injuries that you are aware of?' Her soft accent masked the direness of the question.
Sam shook his head. 'No, no I don't think so.' Sam stared at her a moment. 'Your voice,' he said.
'Yes?' She asked.
'I heard your voice. While I was out, I heard your voice calling me to come back.'
'Dude, that's not possible, she was right here talking to me the whole time.' Dean said.
'No Dean, I heard her, and I saw her face! She was telling me I had to wake up, that you needed me.' Sam insisted.
'Sam,' she started.
'I know it was her Dean, I know it!' Sam said loudly. 'Who are you?' He demanded.
'Sam,' she said again, trying to calm him.
'Her name's Bren and she's an Angle, Sammy.' Dean answered simply, as if they ran into angels everyday.
'An Angel?' Sam said confusedly.
'That's what I said Sammy.' Dean shrugged.
'Dude, are you shitting me?' Sam asked disbelievingly.
'He's telling the truth Sam.' Bren offered.
'She's a part of the Heavenly army that came to earth to fight off the demon assholes that made it out of the gate.' Dean replied nonchalantly. One would think by the attitude Dean had adopted that this sort of thing was typical.
'Dude, an Angel? For real?' Sam stared at Bren in amazement.
'Yes Sam, I'm an Angel. And I'm here to help,' she said softly, the soft roll of her accent seeming to calm him some.
'Sam,' Dean's voice cut through the air, 'are you hurt anywhere? We need to get out of here.'
'No, I don't think so. My ribs hurt a little but I don't think they're broken.' Sam patted himself on his chest and stomach feeling for any injuries. 'My head hurts like a bitch though.' Shooting an apologetic look to Bren he added, 'opps, sorry.'
'Don't worry about it Sam, I've heard worse language in my time.' She put an arm under his shoulders and helped him into a more upright position. 'Are you alright to move?'
'Yeah, I'm good.'
'Then let's get out of here.' Dean agreed, wanting to put the warehouse and the dead vamps behind them. He and Bren put their arms around Sam and helped him to his feet. Once his initial nausea wore off, Sam shrugged off their help and tried to walk on his own, only to stumble and nearly fall to the floor again. Dean caught him, and he and Bren helped him as they made their way out of the warehouse and towards the car. Dean answered Sam's questions about what happened after the vampires took him and the standoff between he and Bren.
'Your brother's got a bit of a hair trigger, I really thought he was going to shoot me, Sam.' Bren admitted.
'It wouldn't have mattered, you said it wouldn't kill you.' Dean griped.
'I lied,' she deadpanned. 'I was gambling on the off chance that you wouldn't want to shoot someone who had just saved your life – that I could talk my way out of it.'
'Lying and gambling?' Dean smirked, 'I know those have got to be sins.'
'Well, my halo is more than a little tarnished,' she admitted, grinning around Sam's bulk at Dean. Dean only gave her a half-assed grin in return.
Finally the Impala came into sight. The black beauty never looked so good as when you were dead tired and running on adrenaline alone. Sam leaned gratefully against the car, pressing his hands into his forehead.
'Sammy,' Dean asked alarmed, 'you okay?'
'I'll be fine, those bastard vampires just did a number on my head.'
'Maybe we should take a stop by the hospital. You remember Dad's rule about head wounds, right?'
'I hate the hospital.'
'I know, I know. The nurses are rarely hot and the doctor is always a dick.' Dean joked.
'And it's always so hard to remember what fake insurance cards are still good,' Sam added.
'Sam,' Bren said softly, coming to stand in front of him. 'Maybe I can help.' She gently placed her palm on the side of Sam's face. A soft glow erupted from her fingertips and Sam actually leaned into the touch, a relaxed expression stole over his handsome features.
Withdrawing her hand Bren asked, 'better?'
Sam gave her a goofy grin. 'Yeah. Any way you can bottle that stuff?'
She laughed lightly, 'Sorry, it's something that I kind of have to take with me.' Looking to Dean she said, 'well my friend, I think this is where we part ways.'
'Yeah, I guess so.' Dean replied, glancing up from the pavement into those strange eyes. Holding out his hand she grasped it in a firm grip.
Pulling him in, she kissed him on the cheek. 'Take care of yourselves.' She said into his ear. Standing on her toes she landed a kiss on Sam's cheek as well. 'And each other,' she added.
'You're a hell of a fighter, I'm glad you're on our side.' Dean said truthfully. 'Do you think we'll run into each other again?'
'I hope so,' she added as she started to walk away. 'But I doubt you'll remember me,' she called over her shoulder while throwing them a final wave. One last glint of moonlight reflecting off her sword hilt and she was gone, swallowed up by the darkness.
'Whatever that's supposed to mean,' Sam said.
'Yeah, like we'd forget a chick that looks like that and carries a frigging sword.' Dean scrutinized his brother's face. 'You really okay?'
'Yeah, Bren took care of the pounding headache.'
'All right, let's get out of here then, I'm starved.' Dean joked while lightly slapping Sam in the stomach.
Sam rolled his eyes, 'Dude, if you were ever not hungry, I'd be worried.'
'Come on Bitch, get in the car.'
'I love you too cupcake. Now get in the car.'
Dean and Sam were sitting in the car in the parking lot of an all-night diner. Dean had no idea how they had gotten there, had no recollection of driving here, and by the confused look on Sam's face, neither did he. All Dean remembered was Sammy being taken by the vampires, Dean tracking them to an abandoned warehouse, and that was it. He didn't remember how he got Sam out. He didn't remember fighting the vamps or leaving the building or anything. He had a vague sense that there had been someone else involved, but like trying to catch water in your cupped hands, even that was slipping away from him.
Looking to Sam, 'Dude, do you…' he trailed off.
'I don't know man, I feel really weird. Like something's missing.'
Dean stared at the steering wheel but didn't really see it. 'Yeah, something's missing, but it's okay.'
Sam grunted in agreement. 'Come on and let's get something to eat. I am dying for a piece of pie and then a hot shower.'
'Pie with ice cream,' Dean added, his mouth already watering.
The two of them exited the car and started to cross the parking lot. A noise from the side of the restaurant had the brothers looking up to see a homeless man rummaging through the dumpster. Dean froze, staring at the man in the tattered clothes.
'Hey,' Dean shouted. The old man stopped his digging and looked up at Dean and Sam. He had pulled the ratty knit hat from his head and was twisting it nervously in his hands. He had the look of a dog that had been kicked too many time by the people it loved and it turned Dean's stomach a little. The vagrant started to back up into the shadows of the building.
'Hey Old Dude,' Dean called again. 'Come on,' he gestured for him to follow them into the restaurant. 'We'll buy you a burger and some pie.' The old man smiled at him and shuffled towards them. Dean suddenly felt much, much better.
A/N: Sorry about the cliché ending but the boys could not remember Bren the Angel. What is the point of faith if you know what is waiting for you? And I think we all agree that Dean needs to have a little faith if he's going to make it out of the pit. Got my fingers crossed for a killer season opener in September.