Escaping Hell

Yin and Yang

I am called downstairs by Sam. When I come down there, Cas is standing right next to Matthew, and Matthew has a look on his face that I can't place. "Lucy, it seems that I am not the only angel in the room," Cas says calmly.

"What are you talking about?" I ask.

"You know how your dad saved me when I was a baby? Well..." Matthew trails off.

My eyes widen, and I whisper, "You...you're a nephilim?"

Matthew nods.

"His kind isn't supposed to exist - it's forbidden," Cas explains.

"So, what now? We already have demons on my ass, and now everyone - including angels - is trying to get to Matthew?" I ask.

"Well, not exactly. His powers have been suppressed. Yes, there are people out there who know that he is a nephilim, but it's less obvious if he doesn't have his powers," Cas says.

"But," I counter, "If he can't use his powers, he won't be able to defend himself."

"From what? If Cas does his thing to get pretty boy to be able to do angel stuff, that's when he'll start having to defend himself. If he stays the way he is now, he doesn't need anyone else to protect him but us," Dean says.

"If I turn into a demon, he won't be able to defend himself from me. I don't want that to happen," I whisper, looking into Matthew's blue eyes. He returns my gaze, and so I look to the floor.

Sam pats me on the back, saying, "We'll figure it out. You'll be fine."

I nod without meaning it, and Matthew steps toward me, still keeping his distance.

"Things are complicated now, but I still love you," he whispers to where only I can hear.

"I love you too," I whisper back.

I drive Matthew back to the house while Sam, Dean, and Cas get rid of all evidence of the demon's death. Matthew looks extremely tired, and I would let him sleep, but I have to make sure any and all wounds he has are cleaned. He keeps rubbing his wrists, but I know that doing that will just make them hurt more.

"Hey, Matthew," I quietly suggest, "You probably shouldn't be doing that. They'll feel better after I fix them."

"Sorry," he whispers.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. This whole thing? It's my fault. I didn't tell you about what my family really does because I didn't want you to get dragged into this life," I sigh, "Things never work out the way I want. I'm sorry. For bringing you into this."

"Hey, listen...you gotta stop beating yourself up like that," Matthew says, looking over to me. I try to keep my eyes on the road, though they're filling up with tears now.

I look back over to Matthew, and say, "I just never want to see something happen to you. I don't want you to go through the same things that I have been through."

"And what have you been through?" Matthew coaxes.

"I don't want to talk about it..." I trail off.

"Come on," Matthew tries again.

"I said no," I reply.

"Okay...well, I just want you to know that you can tell me anything you want to tell me. I'm not gonna force you to say anything; that would be rude. But still, no matter how grossly personal it is, you can tell me," Matthew says, reaching to my face to wipe my tears away.

He really is an angel.

After we get into the house, he sits down on the couch with his head in his hands. He's exhausted. I grab a towel and a bowl of water, and I sit the bowl on the table next to the couch. I sit down next to him, and gently take one of his hands.