She Talks to Angels | {BOOK 2}

56|Raphael

Unfortunately, Raphael didn't show up at the hospital when we trapped Donnie with the holy oil. However, he was at the abandoned house we'd been squatting in before the brothel incident when we got back there.

"Dean, Eleanor, wait," Castiel warned.

A bright light flashed, and Raphael, in Donnie's body, spread his wings, much like Cass had done when Dean and I first summoned him what felt like an eternity ago. Overhead, the lightbulbs shattered, also reminding me of that first meeting. The difference, was that instead of the usual black that every other angel's wings I'd seen were, his were pure white.

"Castiel," Raphael spoke once the light died down.

"Raphael," Castiel greeted him.

We walked further into the room, closer to the archangel.

"And I thought you were supposed to be impressive," Dean quipped. "All you do is black out a room."

"And the Eastern Seaboard."

Outside, lightning flashed across the sky.

"It is a testament to my unending mercy that I do not smite you here and now," the archangel glared.

"Or maybe you're full of crap," Dean suggested. "Maybe you're afraid God will bring Cass back to life again and smite you and your candy-ass skirt. By the way, hi, I'm Dean."

I rolled my eyes at him as Raphael responded.

"I know who you are. And now, thanks to him, I know where you are."

"You won't kill him," Castiel challenged. "You wouldn't dare."

"But I will take him to Michael. Along with Ecclesia."

"Well then. Sounds terrifying. It does. But, uh, I hate to tell you, Ellie and I aren't going anywhere with you."

Dean grabbed a beer, cracking it open.

"Surely you remember Zachariah giving you stomach cancer?" Raphael reminded the Winchester.

"Yeah, that was, that was hilarious," Dean smirked, sipping his drink.

"Well, he doesn't have anything close to my imagination."

"Yeah?" I raised an eyebrow. "I bet you didn't imagine one thing."

"What's that, dear Ecclesia?"

"We knew you were coming, you stupid son of a bitch."

Following my words, Dean opened his lighter, dropping it so the holy oil circle surrounding Raphael went up in flames.

"Don't look at me, it was his idea," Dean gestured to Cass.

"Where is he?" Cass demanded when Raphael looked at him.

"God?" the archangel scoffed. "Didn't you hear? He's dead, Castiel. Dead."

"You're lying."

"But there's no other explanation. He's gone for good."

"You're. Lying," Cass repeated firmly.

"Am I?" Raphael smirked. "Do you remember the twentieth century? Think the twenty-first is going any better? Do you think God would let any of that happen if he were alive?"

"Oh, yeah? Well then who invented the Chinese basket trick?"

"Careful. That's my father you're talking about, boy."

"Yeah, who would be so proud to know His sons started the frigging apocalypse," Dean shrugged, taking another swig from his beer.

"Who ran off and disappeared," Raphael countered. "Who left no instructions and a world to run."

"Daddy ran away and disappeared," Dean smirked. "He didn't happen to work for the post office, did he?"

I snorted and Raphael turned his hard gaze toward me.

"This is funny to you? You're living in a godless universe."

"And?" I shrugged. "What, you and the other kids just decided to throw an apocalypse while he was gone?"

"We're tired. We just want it to be over. We just want... paradise."

"So, what, God dies and makes you the boss and you decide you can do whatever you want?"

"Yes," the archangel nodded. "And whatever we want, we get."

The windows all shattered, sending glass and rain flying into the room, the strong wind whipping the curtains around.

"If God is dead, why have I returned?" Castiel asked. "Who brought me back?"

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe Lucifer raised you?" Raphael raised an eyebrow.

"No," the black-winged angel shook his head.

"Think about it," the white-winged angel countered. "He needs all the rebellious angels he can find. You know it adds up."

"Let's go," Castiel snapped at Dean and I.

"Castiel, I'm warning you, do not leave me here. I will find you."

"Maybe. But today, you're my little bitch."

With that, the angel turned and walked out. I turned and followed with Dean in the rear, listening as Dean paused briefly.

"What he said."

I rolled my eyes, slapping him upside the head as he exited the room.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"You couldn't have just left it?"

He shrugged at me, heading over to where Cass was waiting by the Impala. We all piled in, heading off.

"His wings were white."

"What?" Dean asked.

"Raphael," I explained. "Most angels I've seen have black wings. His were white."

"He's an archangel," Cass spoke quietly.

Dean and I exchanged a look as the angel in the front seat fell silent once more.

"You okay?" Dean asked him.

He didn't respond, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

"Look, I'll be the first to tell you that this crusade of yours is nuts, but I do know a little something about missing fathers."

Castiel looked over at Dean then.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean there were times looking for my dad when all logic said that he was dead, but I knew in my heart he was still alive," the hunter elaborated. "Who cares what some ninja turtle says, Cass, what do you believe?"

"I believe he's out there."

"Good. Then go find him."

"What about you?"

"What about me? I don't know. Honestly, I'm good. I can't believe I'm saying that, but I am, I'm really good."

"Even without your brother?"

"Especially without my brother. I mean, I still have Ellie, and I spent so much time worrying about that son of a bitch. I mean, I've had more fun with you in the past 24 hours than I've had with Sam in years, and you're not much fun. It's funny, you know, I've been so chained to my family, but now that it's just me and Ellie, hell, I'm happy."

Dean looked over at Cass, but the shotgun seat was empty. His expression faltered as I climbed over the seat to sit beside him.

"Did you mean all that?" I asked him quietly after a moment.

He reached over, taking my hand in his.

"Every word."