HELLHOUND - Supernatural

Seventy two.

Season 4. Episode 2.

Are You There, God? It's Me, Dean Winchester.

"An angel... is he fucking serious?" Sierra harshly whispered, mainly to herself, as she sat near Bobby by his desk. He was reading through books about lore on angels, both of them trying to tone out the sound of Sam and Dean's arguing.

"Well, then tell me what else it could be!" Sam quipped, leaning in his chair.

Dean was pacing around the kitchen, but paused and faced his brother sternly, "Look, all I know is I was not groped by an angel!"

Sierra turned to Bobby with an 'Are you kidding me?' expression. He sighed, turning the page of his book to her, which had angel lore on. "It's the only thing that makes sense. And I can't find anything else that can snatch someone out the pit."

Sierra nervously tapped her foot on the ground and dug her nails in her palm again as she re-read the lore.

An angel. An actual angel.

One of the most powerful creatures to ever exist, that would most definitely send her to Hell in a split second.

Bobby swatted her clawed hand, "Stop that before you give yourself a hernia." He glanced over at her whilst taking the book back, a hint of... concern. "What is it?"

She snapped out of her daze, looking up at him with raised brows. "Hm? Nothing. I'm fine. Perfecto."

"No, you're not. You got that look on your face."

"What look?"

"That one." Bobby scolded, narrowing his eyes at her. He pushed the book away, "What is it, hound?"

"An angel, Bobby. A bloody angel!" Sierra quietly seethed so Sam and Dean wouldn't hear. "One snap of their holy-groping fingers and I am done for! Angels and demons don't get along, obviously. When have you ever heard of an angel and a demon being friends or working together? Never!"

"Then what do you suggest that you do then, huh? Give up? Do nothing? Run away?" Bobby firmly replied, then suddenly slapped the table, "No! You're a hound, a damn good one at that. You don't fear from your problems, I know you enough, Sierra. And I don't care how much of a scuffle you're in with either of those boys, you ain't goin' anywhere!"

"That's quite inspirational, Bobby." She mused, picking at her claws again. "Really, it is-"

"Oh shut it." He sarcastically replied, then turning to the arguing brothers, "You two chuckleheads want to keep arguing religion, or do you want to come take a look at this?" The brothers huffed mid-argument and headed over to the desk, "I got stacks of lore - Biblical, pre-Biblical. Some of it's in damn cuneiform. It all says an angel can snatch a soul from the pit."

"What else?" Dean nervously asked.

"What else, what?" Bobby frowned,

"What else could do it?"

Bobby raised his brows in disbelief at the question, "Airlift your ass out of the hot box? As far as I can tell, nothing. Even ask Sierra."

"Alright, fine." Dean sighed, glancing at Sierra, who seemed agitated and also on edge. "Any ideas, puppy? I mean, you left Hell, didn't you?"

"My situation was a bit different, Dean." She replied quietly, thinking back to it, "I was only down there so they could make me into a Hellhound. And by that, I mean literally torture the living daylights out of me until I forgot who I was." She ranted, still picking at her claws. She then looked up at everyone's shocked looks. "That was a bit dark, wasn't it?"