**Grace Nevermore** Supernatural Fanfiction: Book Three

Part One: Black Sheep

It had been six weeks since Sophie's run in with Dean. That meant six weeks of keeping what she had seen a secret from Sam and Castiel. She didn't know why she was honoring Dean's wish not to tell his brother, except for the sheer fact that it was the most difficult thing to do. Sophie found that she couldn't even get the words out of her mouth, and, perhaps, it was because she purely couldn't wrap her mind out it herself. She didn't want to believe what she had seen or hid from in the bunker that night.

Sam had been desperate to find his brother, trying to summon demons for answers; but, when he called, no one came. The only information that Sam was able to gather was that Dean had run off with Crowley, and they were off only God knew where. Sophie helped as much as she could in the beginning, but then her plate grew. Castiel's borrow grace was fading, and he was getting sicker. Metatron was in prison, but refused to give up Sophie's grace, and, to make matters worse, there were still rogue angels that refused to return home. In normal circumstances, Sophie would have understood their reasoning for, she too, struggled with the idea of going home. These angels, however, were harming each other and disturbing peace among kin.

Sophie was surprised by the number of angels that began looking to her for answers after Metatron was locked away. Not only her, but Castiel as well held some leadership to their kind. They seemed willing to accept her as the Daughter of God, even without her grace. She would have been flattered, except she knew it was because they really had no one else to guide them. With almost every Archangel deceased and peace being restored to Heaven, who else did their kin have to turn to for answers; where did they go from there? Sophie and Castiel had more than proved their worth since gathering the army to take down Metatron, even to the angels that once believed in Metatron's fiction.

Even so, Sophie admitted that Castiel had done most of the work. She had been pulled at both ends in her own responsibilities, and the duty she felt toward the Winchesters. Sophie was willing to accept her grace now if she could coerce Metatron to hand it over, but her heart still remained with the Winchesters. At least until she could find a way to help Dean.

Sophie's eyes fluttered open as she heard Castiel's violent coughing. She stirred and finally managed to roll over to face him, rubbing the remaining sleep from her eyes. She winced as his coughing continued and reached over, grabbing his bicep gently. "Castiel," she cooed, scooting closer to him.

Castiel groaned, his eyes watering. "I'm all right, Sophie. I apologize for waking you. I-" Castiel choked and hacked hoarsely, his fist coming up against his lips.

Sophie sat up, reaching for the glass of water on the nightstand and handed it to her angel. Castiel forced back his cough long enough to take a drink, barely able to keep it down. Sophie frowned as she examined the dark circles under his eyes, as well as his chapped lips. "You need grace, Castiel."

Castiel grunted, adjusting himself against the head board of the bed. He shook his head slowly. "I will not slit an another angel's throat so that I may feel better." His head drifted lazily to the side, his dull eyes meeting hers. "You know I can't do that."

Sophie pressed her lips together. "Maybe, should Metatron ever give up mine, it would do you good to have mine instead? You know I would willingly give it to you."

"Your grace is not mine to have."

"You're dying."

"I know." Castiel cleared his throat, turning his head away from her. He coughed once more, and Sophie cringed. When Castiel spoke, his voice was the roughest she'd ever heard. "I've made peace with it."

Sophie grimaced and climbed over onto his lap. Castiel looked up at her questionably as she took his face in her hands and brought her lips down to his. She kissed their cracked texture gingerly, lingering for a moment. She pulled away just enough to see deeply into his eyes, searching for the small amount of light behind them. "What if I'm not at peace with that?"