Title: Saving Grace

Summary: Once upon a time, a human glowed really bright and went up to Heaven. Why? Because she was once an angel. Well guess what, honey, so was Lucifer. So what's to stop him from trying to do the same?

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Death of minor characters (as in, not Sam or Dean)

A/N: Regarding the summary, isn't that a plot hole? I thought it deserved pointing out. In fic form. So sue me (don't really, Kripke, ok? Love you, buh-bye).

A/N2: So I decided to take a break from writing angel!porn to write this very special gen story that's bugged me every since 4.10. But, like a lot of my stuff, if you read with slash-goggles firmly in place you might see some Dean/Cas sneaking in around the edges. Because they love each other, ok? It's practically canon. Gosh!

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, or any of it's characters. Sissy Angel Trees and Bottles O' Grace also (c) Kripke and Ko.

Saving Grace

Black eyes shone from a pale face as the girl smirked at the figures hidden in the shadows, barely even pulling on the ropes that held her tight to the old chair. "About time you boys showed up," she said, her voice sickly sweet, eyes sliding back to their normal blue-green. "I mean, I was starting to think I'd have to come and find you myself."

"Well, glad we could save you the trouble," one of the two men said, stepping into the small shaft of light that filtered through the room's single window.

Fear flashed across the possessed girl's face. "It's you."

The hunter raised an eyebrow, assessing her, letting the small leather-bound book he'd been clutching to his chest fall to his side. His partner shifted in the shadows, growing either restless or nervous as time passed and the demon remained trapped in the girl's body on the earthly plane.

"You know him?" the voice came from the darkness, rough with inbred hatred.

"Oh, sweetie," the demon replied, "everybody does. We're just waiting for him to step up." Her eyes darted between the man shrouded in shadows and the one bathed in light. She laughed. "It's funny, you know? The role reversal here."

"Hilarious." The book was raised, held to the light, and opened to a marked page. "Now, I'm giving you one chance to save whatever you have left of your soul. Tell me what you're planning."

"Not planning anything," it said, twisting the girl's face into a sneer. "Besides, I'd heard you two chuckleheads had an informant or two for this stuff. Why take the time and trouble to catch and torture a poor grunt in an abandoned cabin when there's a church right up the street?"

Two heavy footfalls brought the shadowed figure into the light. Two more brought him within striking distance of the possessed teen. He leaned down, hands folding around her thin wrists, over the ropes that he'd helped tie. A nod signaled his partner to start the exorcism. "He asked you what you know, bitch."

"Obviously more than you," she said, twitching as the sound of muttered Latin filled the small room.

"Tell us where Lilith's going to strike next."

"You honestly don't know?"

He leaned closer, snarling at her, sickened by the reek of sulfur that surrounded her. "You tell me what you know, and we might just let you go."

The demon grinned. "You big softy. Hell made you weak."

The exorcism stopped as the flat sound of skin-on-skin echoed through the cabin. "What do you know?" The hunter asked again.

"I told you. More than you."

A glance over a leather-clad shoulder, and the warm sounds of Latin again filled the room. "What are you getting at?" He was getting desperate. They all knew it. He was running out of time.

The girl's eyes flashed black, her mouth twisting into a sadistic smirk. "Where's your pretty angel, Dean?" she sneered before her head jerked back and the demon was pulled into the pits of Hell, leaving the Winchester brothers alone with a teenaged corpse.


The diner where the brothers finally stopped to get some lunch was one state and two hours from the cabin where the exorcism had taken place, and they had barely spoken to each other since salting and burning the girl behind the old hunting cabin.

The lights in the restaurant were bright, reflecting off the white tabletops and dirtied tile floor. A booth toward the back beckoned and they made their way to it without even looking at each other, sliding into the seats and slumping down, looking as inconspicuous as possible.

There were only four other patrons in the diner; a mother and her teenage daughter, who reminded them both too much of the girl they'd just buried, a man about their age with dark unruly hair and his back to them, and an older gentleman who kept giving them dirty looks.

"So," Dean said, leaning forward across the table and shooting a glare of his own to the old man, "what do you think?"

Sam shrugged. "Demons lie. They say cryptic stuff to make us sweat and then they laugh about it in Hell."

"Yeah, but we haven't heard anything about Lilith or the Apocalypse or anything trying to break Seals in nearly two months."


"And, we were practically being smothered by nosy smiters with invisible feathers before that. Doesn't that seem a little weird to you?"

Sam shook his head. "I think you're just overreacting."

"Dude, I woke up once and he was watching me sleep. Now, poof, and nothing."

"Well, what do you think happened?" the younger man asked, glancing over his shoulder, looking for a waitress and failing to find one. "You think they stopped it and just forgot to tell us?"


"What, then? You were kinda God's golden child for a while there, Dean. I assume that doesn't just stop without warning."

Dean sighed and looked away, at the rest of the diners, the people who were blissfully unaware that the end of the world was looming closer every day. "I dunno. Maybe He just… lost interest?"

Sam laughed, the noise cutting harshly off as Dean swung his head back and leveled a hurt gaze at him. "You're serious?"


"You think the angels left because God lost interest in you? Because He maybe found some other insignificant speck of dust under the fingernail of a giant to poke at for a while? Honestly?" There was laughter in his voice, but Dean's face was deadly serious.

"That's what happens," his brother explained. "People lose interest, just don't give a crap anymore, and then they leave."

"That's ridiculous."

Dean shrugged. "Story of my life."

Sam opened his mouth, mind still searching for an appropriate response, but was saved the trouble as a waitress finally appeared. "What'll it be, boys?"

Both men glanced at their menus. "Burger," they said together, Dean requesting extra onions and a slice of their best pie, as well. With a smile, the waitress turned and walked back to the counter.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Sam leaned across the table, having finally come up with a good enough response for his brother's thinly-veiled admittance of self-esteem issues. "God doesn't just give up on people."

"I'm not like everyone else."

"Yeah, you got a Get-Outta-Hell-Free Card. That's gotta mean something."

"Passing fancy," Dean muttered, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. "It's over now and we're outta the loop, I guess."

"Don't you think somebody would have-?"

"No, Sam. I don't think they have e-cards for this. Nobody's gonna drop by and tell us we've been replaced. Maybe instead of exorcising every random demon we find, we should ask your girlfriend what she knows."

Sam shook his head, seeing the change of subject for what it was, but unwilling to keep pushing the issue. "No. She hasn't called in a while. Maybe they really did stop it. Maybe Lilith is dead or they've got all the Seals covered or something."


The waitress returned with a tray of food, a bill, and a forced smile. "Will that be all for you boys?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Sam nodded, flashing a smile of his own and hoping it looked genuine as she turned and walked away.

Dean sighed, watching her go. "Think they'd want to tell us if the Apocalypse had been averted, though."

The younger man rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in surrender. "All right, fine. God hates you and the angels are ignoring you. They got tired of playing with you and decided to just leave you hanging instead of sending you back to Hell. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

There was no response other than a slight narrowing of the hunter's eyes as he stared into the diner. He tilted his head a bit, watching something with a great bit of attention, before finally sliding soundlessly out of his seat and moving across the tiled floor.

Sam watched him go, curious, but knowing enough not to ask any loud questions when Dean was in stealth mode. The older hunter walked up to the man who'd been eating with his back to them- the man who was suddenly in a hurry to leave.

The stranger stood, his back still facing the brothers, and ran a hand through his wild mop of hair. He pulled on a dark jacket and pushed in his chair, and Sam realized suddenly that he was trying especially hard not to turn in the Winchester's direction. And that just screamed all kinds of wrong.

Following Dean's lead, Sam slid from his seat, ready to play back-up if needed. He fingers itched for a gun, Ruby's knife, any kind of weapon, but the mother-daughter team and the grumpy old man were still there, now staring at them, and murder was typically frowned upon in public. They would have to settle things on the demon's terms.

It had to be a demon. Dressed in a white t-shirt and dark jacket, faded blue jeans, and tennis shoes, there was no reason for Dean to go after the guy unless he'd seen the telltale black flash in his eyes while watching the waitress walk away.

Dean finally caught up with the possessed man and grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks just before he reached the door and the freedom of the small town's main street. The hunter forcefully spun the man around, turning the demon to face them, and gasped.


The usual applies. Reviews are cool and updates will either be every day or every other day. The story's finished, guys. There are ten chapters. Buckle up. It's a wild ride :)