You narrow your eyes and frown a bit as you watch the demon sneak back into an alleyway. You had been on his tail for weeks now; watching him drink and fuck and take part in all the carnality this world has to offer. And you’d be lying if you said the job wasn’t tiresome. Were this any other job, for any other superior, you would have asked for a transfer a week ago.
But there was no time to think about that now. You sigh and straighten your back before preparing to follow him in.
It wasn’t such an unusual sight; you tracking a demon. It was what you were made for. At least, that’s what your brothers, sisters, and superiors had always told you.
This had been your purpose in the universe, your place in the garrison. Find out information and keep track of whatever demons your superiors ordered you to. You had done it for as long as you can remember and for all the leaders of heaven. Michael, Raphael, Naomi…All of them had sent you on some demon’s trail at one time or another.
But to tell the truth, it had never really…felt right to you.
Learn, keep track of, observe; but never interfere. Killing demons was a hunter’s job. At least, that’s what you’d been told. And so, for the sake of an order you didn’t fully understand nor agree with, you had to watch as hundreds, even thousands of humans suffered at demon’s hands.
This isn’t right, you remember thinking to yourself. This isn’t what Father would want. We’re supposed to protect humans; help them…love them. He wouldn’t want us to just stand by while they suffer so.
There were times when you couldn’t just stand by, where you had to act and put a demon down for the sake of saving an innocent human. Many times, this resulted in punishment.
“You may kill the underlings, the unimportant demons if you have such a blood lust,” you remember Michael reprimanding you once. “But leave the leaders to us, sister. Know your place.”
When Metatron’s spell hit, you fell like all your brethren; and you couldn’t help but feel a little relieved. You could now do your work as you felt you father wanted you to. You did not have to be bound by rules and regulations. You could finally just…help. Freely and without worry.
You took the body of a lovely young woman who had been in a coma for months due to some complications with her anxiety medicines. Her spirit had long since left her body and was, you assumed, resting easily in heaven; so you felt no guilt for occupying the empty husk.
Seeing the world through a humans eyes was…beautiful. You believed you would never get enough of it. After settling some of your vessels business, you began traveling; helping humanity in the ways you believed from the start you should. You knew, then and there, that you never wanted to track another demon for as long as you lived.
Fate, unfortunately, had other plans.
When he approached you, you knew you would do whatever he asked in an instant. You owed him that, and more.
Castiel was your closest brother in the garrison; your most beloved superior. He had saved you from lifetime’s worth of punishments when your sympathies got the better of you and you interfered with demon business. Keeping tabs on a demon for him, then, was the least you could do.
Of course, when you agreed, you had no idea that the demon was Dean Winchester; the newest wielder of the First Blade and the bearer of the Mark of Cain.
When you found out, you were angry. Why had Castiel lied to you? Well…lied to you by omission, anyway. You approached him with your new found information and he had the decency to seem ashamed.
