The Runt of the Litter

Control Is a Precious Commodity (Part I)

Note: Hey, my sweets. I'm genuinely sorry for disappearing for so long. 

The truth is, I've been trying to write this story and it's been incredibly difficult. This is a monster of a story, but it also fills many requests. I'm posting it in multiple parts for a few reasons.

1) it's been far too long since you guys have gotten an update

2) i'm nearly done writing it and posting will motivate me to finish up

3) i've been told in the past that it's nice to have longer stories broken up into chunks

I'm hoping to post every other day or so until the full thing is up. I promise I'm actually very close to having it fully written. And I won't make you wait too long between updates on this one.

Without further ado, please enjoy. And thank you so so so much for reading and commenting and voting and just being a bunch of total sweethearts. 

Anna is eighteen

Control Is a Precious Commodity (Part I)

Swinging her car keys in circles on her index finger, Anna hums a Fall Out Boy song under her breath. The driver's door to her beautiful car is freezing cold against her back, but she doesn't mind. She's sat for too long in the car with the heater going full blast. The outside air and cold metal are refreshing.

"I'm sorry," she says when she hears the familiar footsteps off to her left. They're rhythmic, more so than most people's gaits would allow. "I couldn't leave it alone, Cas. You're freaking me out."

"You shouldn't be here," is the only answer she gets. It's serious, almost bleak.

Anna dares to look at her friend. His blue eyes are shrewd and stern. But she isn't scared of him, not even a little bit. "Neither should you," she answers with confidence. It's hard to summon, the assertive demeanor she has now. But she's getting more used to it as she gets older. She'll graduate high school soon, become a hunter. She has to stand at her full height and speak from her chest if she wants to get anywhere in this world. That much she's learned from growing up with an infamous surname. "In fact, I think I heard Dean specifically tell you to stay home and chill. So..."

"I am not Dean's charge."

With an eye roll, Anna scuffs the sole of her shoe against the pavement. "Cas, I'm worried about you," she admits freely. "You're gone, like, all the time. I don't even know what you're doing or where you are until you pop up in the bunker. You used to be around a lot more."

It's clear Castiel doesn't know what to do with this information. He clears his throat and looks at something over Anna's shoulder. "There are reparations to be made," he reminds her. He's not being harsh with her, but there is a darkness re-entering his eyes. It's unfortunate how common it is for Cas to look like that. "Heaven is far from recovered. Even recently, with Lucifer, I've done them more harm. It's my mess to clean up."

"So, is that where you go?" Anna pushes, twirling her keys a couple more times around her finger. They jingle against one another, and the sound seems to bother Cas. He winces. "Heaven? Cause, dude, if you'd ask us for help-"

"This is not a job for human beings, Anna." Cas is stern now, a manner that never suited him and still doesn't. She can see in his face that he's running out of patience. Fast. He reaches toward her, and Anna immediately knows what he's going to try.

"Uh-uh," she says and dodges his hand. Maybe he wasn't expecting the action, because he doesn't follow her. "I'm not going home until you do, Cas," Anna says with finality. "Especially not without my car. So you might as well tell me what's going on here."