Destiny ~ Dean Winchester (love story), part two

15

×Angie POV×

I had been conscious two times already but something was restraining my energy and stopping my healing process. If my power was running through the cells of my body like water through a hose, someone had stepped on it to stop the flow.

It was an ugly feeling and it exhausted me so much because my body was still fighting against that invisible threat, was still trying to heal that injury on my back which just wasn't possible as long as the weapon wasn't removed.

I knew that someone was pouring salt and holy water on Sam behind me and he kept saying that something was wrong, kept yelling my name to wake me up but I drifted off again, not able to stay conscious any longer.

Darkness.
Around me, there was just an endless horizon of black. I looked at my feet, not even sure if I was standing on the ground or levitating in all that nothingness because I couldn't see where the darkness began and where it ended.

Oh my God, was I in one of my nightmares? Was this where I went when I fell asleep?
"Nope. Not a dream. Just wanted to chat, Angelia."

I heard his voice before I saw him step out of the shadows. It was a simple man in his forties, wearing a suit. His tie was red with white stripes and it seemed to be placed awfully symmetrical in the middle of his torso.

"Who the hell are you?", I wanted to know and he took of his glasses as if he wanted to get more comfortable.

There was so much bad energy radiating off him, I almost couldn't stand being this close. It was like I could hear pitiful screams and smell blood and it gave me a weird sort of déjà vu because there were feelings connected to those impressions that were forced on me.

Shame, anger, vulnerability, panic and so, so much hopelessness.
They all had a specific depth to them that I recognized those feelings as my own. But when did I hear those screams and felt-
Was I remembering Hell?
Shouldn't that be impossible?

And why would that man want me to remember my time in Hell?

"What are you?", I screamed at the man, hoping I'd be louder than the screams.

"Sorry.", he said, although he didn't sound like he was sorry at all. He lightly touched the ring on his finger and the screaming abrubtly shut off like a background noise and the only thing left was someone humming.

I stared at the man, realizing he wasn't aware that I was still hearing something and I definitely didn't plan on pointing it out to him.

"That was just a little experiment to see if I could get your memory fixed. I personally think your time in Hell gave you the necessary motivation to use your magic like you're meant to. Did it help?"

Mentally, I clung myself to the rhythm I was hearing. It was something to focus on, so unexpectedly nice and full of emotion.

"I don't know what you're talking about.", I lied.
What was that song? Metallica?
And why would someone sing in Hell?

"You should really answer my question.", the man snarled, not exactly happy that I avoided him.

"Well, you didn't exactly answer mine.", I shot back. "What are you?"

"Here's a hint: I was in Germany, then in Germany, then in the Middle East.", he started, moving his hand in front of him like he was pointing at an imaginary map. "I was in Darfur when my beeper went off. I'm waiting to hook up with my siblings. I've got three... We're gonna have so much fun together."
He was smiling at me.

War.
This was War personified.

Suddenly, it all made sense.
The reason why I didn't feel any demons.