Virtuous (a Supernatural story)

Sympathy for the Devil

Sam and Dean sat around in their standard cheap, crap-tastic, motel room after visiting Chuck. Dean was watching the news about the jump-started apocalypse, while Sam tried to figure out how he and his brother got the hell onto the plane. The only sounds that filled the room were that of Dean's channel surfing through various news stations, and Sam's tapping and clicking from his laptop. One channel in particular caught Dean's eye when he saw an image of a beam of light similar to the one they saw on the plane. He turned up the volume to listen to what the newscaster was saying. Finding it harder to focus with the volume of the TV, Sam turned to his brother and gave him his classic bitch face.

"Dean, seriously, can you turn it down?" Sam was interrupted by his brother shushing him. He was about to say something else before Dean cut him off again.

"Sammy listen to this." Dean turned up the volume a bit more.

"... are not commenting at this time about the eight stationed terrorist organizations at Saint Mary's convent, ..."

"Saint Mary's? Isn't that where we were before we ended up on the plane?"

"Yeah." Sam's brow furrowed when he answered.

"So what else got set freakin' loose?"

Dean turned off the TV and Sam shrugged.

"I don't know man. Maybe Bobby will know something about this."

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1st person POV

I couldn't find Castiel anywhere. I couldn't even sense him when I reached out to him with my grace. Feeling a sense of urgency, I flew to the only place left I could think to look; Castiel's favorite place. It was an autistic man's version of heaven. My brother often would sit on the park bench and seek guidance, think, or just take a break and relax. But this time the peaceful place was vacant if the angel I was searching for. Drawing in a breath, I used my grace to try and follow what was left of his grace. I found the end of the trail. The remainder if my brother's grace mingled with that of a higher-ranked, more powerful angel.

'A seraph?' I thought to my self. No. This grace was too concentrated. So who was it? Raphael or Michael? It couldn't be Gabriel, he has been MIA from heaven for a very long time; and it couldn't have been Lucifer. He has just been released from the cage not too long ago and Castiel disappeared at least an hour or two ago. I decided to follow his grace and in the blink of an eye, I found myself in a dark house. Papers were littered everywhere, on the floor, the table, the couch, you name it, it had paper on it.

"Jesus Christ! Wh-who in hell are you?!" Someone stammered behind me. A man, about his mid-forties, with curly brown hair and a beard to match, an overall scruffy look splattered with blood and who knows what else. He looked stressed beyond belief. Then I realized just where I was. The papers, the books, the alcohol and pain-killers, and the man behind me was Chuck Shirley; prophet of the lord.

"No not Hell. I'm an angel, sorta-kinda-not really." I nodded my head to the side.

"Wait wha-what do you mean by that?" The poor guy looked a bit confused.

"It's a long story, anyway, I'm searching for the angel Castiel. Have you seen him?" I tilted my head to the head slightly. The timid man ran a hand through his hair then pulled something off his shirt and held it, looking it over in his hands.

"He's uh, everywhere, actually." Handing me whatever it was he had pulled out of his hair.

"I don't think I understand?" Taking what appeared to be a full fingernail from him. "Is this..."

"From him? Yeah."

"What exactly happened?"

"Well, Cas was here and the archangel smote him, like, blew him to smithereens. After that I've been kind of laying low, kind of traumatic watching someone blow up like a water balloon, you know? I had visions of Lucifer rising during that time and then Sam and Dean showed up, also looking for Cas. We talked the Zachariah showed up with a few other angels but Dean got rid of them. They told me to lay low before they left and that was about four or five hours ago and now, here we are." He opened his arms to motion to his home around us.