❛ PROLOGUE ━━ TO BE BRAVE ❜
𖤐¸𓍢 ━━ ❪ ACT ONE OF SOULBOUND ❫ ˖ ୧ 。
◟ ✦ ARE YOU A SUPERHERO? ❞

     DEAN KNUCKLED THE STEERING WHEEL of his Chevy Impala with a bitter tug on his lips. His eyes were tired and strained, unable to concentrate on the road. His brother. That seemed to be the only thing occupying his mind. It was just hours ago when his little brother jumped into the Pit, a sacrifice that left Dean feeling uneasy and sick. To think, Sam never wanted much in life; finish college, become a lawyer, marry his girlfriend.

But, no one ever gets happy endings in their line of business and the fear in Sam's eyes when he willingly threw himself into that Pit was another constant reminder that all Hunters die painfully, always.

That thought alone will forever haunt Dean.

Sam was gone. That was that, no changing it. He was stripped of the life he could've lived if Dean hadn't dragged him back to square one. And now Dean was alone, wishing his life ended a long time ago.

It didn't matter who or what Dean surrounded himself with, he easily slipped into the fleeting numbness of his brain. Once the alcohol was flushed from his system, the survivor was left alone with every single emotion that ate him up inside. Because the second he was alone with his thoughts, Dean was back to square one, back to thinking about his brother, back to thinking about Lucifer and Michael.

Back to wishing that he could have done more.

The volume on the cassette was too loud. It played the music that Dean had listened to over and over again since he was a boy, the songs he knew by heart, which were entwined with memories that always made him smile.

But that's all they were, memories.

Bittersweet ones that now made Dean feel sour. If Sam were here, he'd complain about the music and tell him to turn it down, but Dean knew his brother secretly loving listening to them.

House rules, Sammy.

With a twist of his finger, the music stops abruptly. Gritting his teeth, Dean pops the cassette tape out and throws it into the backseat. The dark road was replaced with flickering headlights on the side and with narrowed eyes, Dean slows the Impala.

Off the highway was scorched pavement and a broken rail, the faded car lights flickering on and off down the slope.

Dean pauses and for a moment he thinks about just driving away, already having enough to worry about.

But the eerie car horn in the air mocked him, and before he could comprehend his actions he was grabbing his gun from the glove compartment and stepping outside.

The May air was thick and dry when Dean inhaled, switching the safety off before walking towards the broken railing.

He stuck his head out, eyes falling on the wrecked car at the bottom of the slope. The car was embedded into a tree, splitting the wood and causing the car to curl into itself.

The car was a dark shade of blue, taillights dim and busted which blended into the scenery of the night and was most likely the reason no one had bothered to stop.

The woman in the car had noticed him, beeping her horn once again, "Help me!"

Dean swiftly hides the gun on the loop of his pants, running down to the wreckage.

The woman was barely older than he was. Her chest was pinned firmly between the wheel and the seat. Her legs were wedged between metal, her face covered in blood and shards of glass, one eye swelled and the other bruised.

Her hair was a sandy blonde, which fell into soft curls. She had natural sun-kissed skin, soft blue eyes that expressed complete fear. She looked more scared than ever.

Dean reacts quickly, pulling open the shattered door, "l'm going to get you out of here."

She tries to shake her head, but the action made her lightheaded. "No– God no, you can't." Her voice was light, southern.

Dean looked conflicted as she continued.

"The wheel and the seat is the only thing keeping me from falling apart," She chuckles dryly. "If you move me I'll die just as fast."

She presses her head against the wheel, blonde hair hiding the acceptance, "You– You need to find my daughter." She choked out, inhaling sharply before looking up at the Hunter, "It took her. ."

Dean's eyes shift towards the booster seat in the back that he hadn't noticed before. It was empty. The kid's side of the car was already torn open.

He swept over her features again, noticing that her injuries weren't ones usually caused by a car crash.

Her arms were marked from the struggle. She had put up a fight with someone.

Then the realization hit him almost as fast as the sulfur that overtook his senses.

Leave it to Dean to stumble into a case without trying.

His eyes darted through the woods, alarmed, "What's your name?" He asked.

"Sophia..."

"Which way did they go, Sophia?"

"He was just standing in the road," She shook her head, trying to understand what she saw, "I didn't even see him. His eyes were black. . ."

She was dazed, the blood loss finally registering in her brain.

"You need to keep her safe. He's going to kill her! She's just a kid!" She trashes against the car, smacking the wheel with loud sobs. "Goddamnit!"

Dean gripped onto her shoulder, "What did it want? Did it tell you anything?"

She tries to think, her vision blurring.

"He said she was special." She recalls, "He said she needed to open somethin', took her into the woods," She points North, "Olive's just a kid. Promise me! Promise me you'll find her!"

Dean hesitates. What if he failed?

She was running out of time. Her face was pale, her lips were blue and cold, "Please. Promise me."

Sophia wouldn't let herself die without knowing her child would be safe.

She swallows hard, and grabs at his arm so tightly he winced. She looks him in the eyes, a stare that made him lock up and breathless, "Do what any damn decent person would do and save that little girl, she needs someone more than ever."

Once again, Dean felt helpless.

How could he promise Sophia the safety of her child when there was a good chance that she was already dead too?

Dean couldn't save his brother, and he couldn't save this woman. If he couldn't do it the first two times, who's to say he could do it now? Third times a charm, right?

He could save her— he could at least try.

Something deep in his gut told him that he needed to find Olive. He was doubtful, but he needed to try.

"I promise."

In relief, she had stopped fighting.

Sophia's head falls back into the seat, her eyes strain up at the moon, tears now fell freely down her face. At that moment, she said her goodbyes to everyone she loved. She said her goodbyes to Olive. Wishing her time wasn't up.

Then, before Dean could register it, the woman goes still with a single last breath.

He stepped back from the car in shock, his eyes glossing over with regret and guilt as more weight was added onto his shoulders.

Her blood was on his hands now, and if he didn't move fast, then so will the little girl.

Dean wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, allowing his natural rage to flood his veins and fuel his determination.

Without a second to waste, he leans into the back seat and grabs the small backpack and the booster seat. His fingers tightening over the straps of her bag as he marched towards the Impala and flung both objects into the backseat.

The demon had at least an hour on him, which gave it enough time to hide deep into the woods.

But with a child, it might not be as easy to keep quiet, and the Hunter will use that to his advantage.

Once he was prepared, Dean slammed the trunk shut and drove the Impala off the highway into a small clearing of trees.

He needed to push whatever emotion he felt before he stumbled upon this case; he needed to treat this like any other hunt.

It had only been twenty minutes of searching, but for Dean, it felt like an eternity, especially when he has no leads.

At first, he thought he was going in the right direction, following the broken tree branches and foot patterns until it stops abruptly. When did he take a wrong turn? Had he seen that tree before?

There was no point, all these trees and trails looked the same at night, but even with that disadvantage, he wouldn't dare turn back and wait until morning.

Dean squints, walking further. A faint light shines through the tall branches like a beacon. He keeps going, prepared for the worst as he moved bushes out of his way.

And there it was. A cabin.

The Hunter was hesitant, going around the small house with his hand clasped tight around a Demon Knife. He poked his head as far as he could see through the curtained window.

There was nothing, no one but a light in the living room.

There was apart of him that just knew this was the place he needed to be, the hair on his arms flying up the second he got close. Dean swallowed, making his way to the back door, and with a firm slam of his knife into the crusted lock, the door had opened.

He wouldn't dare call out, not wanting to alert the demon in case it was moving around blissfully unaware. Dean's only thought was finding the child, getting in and out as smoothly as he possibly can.

A bang in the living room causes his ears to perk up. It wasn't loud, but he had heard it. Dean keeps the knife in front of him, cautiously moving down the little hallways and into the main area, where the light he had seen from outside coming from a flickering lamp in the corner.

Over a dozen candles surround an thick log of oak tree in the middle of the room, carved. Placed in the middle of the stump was a large metal bowl held up by dirty stones, more carvings along the edges.

A demon using black magic? For what?

Dean had never been more confused but he continued forward, feeling the hairs in the back of his neck stick up.

Thump.

His head snaps to the small wardrobe on the far left on the room. The doors of the wood covered with bloody symbols that he couldn't place. Enochian? Witchcraft?

Thump.

Dean swallowed the nerves down, feeling like the character in a horror movie that goes toward the noises and die 15 minutes into the movie.

His hand hovered over the handle of the wardrobe and pulls it open fast, taking three large steps back for protection and keeping his blade steady.

A little girl, who looked barely five, falls forward on her knees. She was tied with rope around her wrists and ankles, out of the way and behind her back so she couldn't escape. Her light tawny hair filled with twigs, most likely from being dragged through the woods from the highway.

Her long wavy hair covered most of her face from Dean, staring down at her feet with muffled sobs from the rag between her little teeth. She wore a light blue onesie, which was stained with blood and dirt that Dean hoped wasn't hers.

His eyes darted around the room one last time before dropping on his knees in front of her. His heart was beating in his throat, his hands shaking as he tried his best to untie her.

But she didn't understand.

The second she saw the knife, the little girl had thrashed away from him. She presses her whole body against the wardrobe, shaking her head and letting out another muffled cry.

"Shhh, it's okay—it's okay." He assured, raising the knife in surrender.

Her soft blue eyes widened at the sight of him, not know what to do. She looked like a startled doe, her gaze darting around frantically in paranoia.

"I'm not here to kill you," He continues, "You're Olive, am I right?"

She nodded.

"Sophia sent me."

He had hoped that using a name she was familiar with would calm her down, and it had worked. Olive's shoulders had slumped down in relief at the name of her mother, her eyes shining with fresh tears.

"I'm Dean. I'm going to get you out of here, but I need you to listen to me very carefully. Okay?"

He removes the rag from her mouth.

She instantly starts hyperventilating. She couldn't help it and he understood that. God knows how long she had that thing lodged down her throat, he'd be gasping for air too. Tears began to fall down her rosy cheeks, her nose scrunching with every sniffle.

"I'm scared," She croaks, desperate for him to understand the overwhelming feeling.

His heart squeezed and he didn't know why. It's not like had hadn't saved children on hunts before, but for some reason Olive was different from them. He felt fiercely overprotective of the doe-eyed child and he hardly even knew her.

It was like he could feel every overwhelming emotion she could. As if her fear had transferred to him.

"I know. I know you're scared, but I need you to be brave, can you do that?" Dean gave her a small, forced reassuring smile.

She nods, watching as he picked the knife back up and slowly moved it forward. Then, in a quick swipe the rope had been broken and she was free.

Olive stumbles into him, her small fingers gripping his shirt as she pressed her head into his chest, trembling in his arms.

Dean awkwardly rubs soothing circles on her back, "It's okay—uh, you're alright," He looks around the cabin with an uneasy frown, "We need to get you out of here."

"He's gonna come back." She informs.

"Who is it? Who's doing this?"

"He's gonna hurt me again, and again—"

"I won't let him."

He grabs her shoulder firmly, in hopes she would snap out of her hysteria. Olive flinched, looking up at him with burning tears in her eyes, her breathing still uneven.

"No one's going to hurt you."

The vow had never been so firm.

"How?" She tilted her head, "Are you a superhero?"

It took him a moment to realize that the question was serious. Her little curious eyes looked up at him in wonder, like she was waiting for him to reveal himself as a hero straight out of a comic book.

Dean had to remember that he was taking to a five year old.

"Yeah. . ." He dragged, keeping his eyes peeled around the room in case the demon decided to show up again, "Yeah, I'm like a superhero."

Her expression brighten at his confession, and for a moment Dean's heart swelled with softness for her.

"Can you to tell me where that Demon went?"

"The one with the black eyes?"

He nods.

Olive points to the front door, which was locked from the outside, "He says he needed to grab a few more things from the shed," She recalls, the words coming out in child-like pronunciation. He was surprised he understood it.

Her gaze dropping down to the blood on her onesie.

Dean followed her gaze, his eyes bulging at the gash between the fabric of her night clothes, exposing the gushing line across her stomach. Her expression looked droopy, holding herself seemed to be a challenge.

It didn't take long for Dean to put two and two together.

The demon was draining her, most likely collecting the blood and putting it in the metal bowl on the wood stump in the middle of the room. Dean looked up at the wardrobe, leaning forward to run his finger along the bloody symbols. It was fresh blood, caking his fingers when he pulled it away to examine.

It was her blood.

Why use her own blood to keep her inside the wardrobe? Unless it wasn't for her. Unless it was to keep something out, to keep something away from her.

"Shit," He cursed under his breath. Whatever he just got himself into made his skin crawl, this was clearly something far from of his pay-grade and it didn't take an idiot to realize that that something was very wrong.

He didn't waste any more time.

"We need to go," He says. Dean cuts the hem of his shirt and tying it against her stomach, guiding her up from the ground, "Can you walk?"

He tried to let her go, but she stumbled.

She coughed. Red staining her lips.

Dean panicked, "Fuck!" He exclaimed, "Okay, I need you to stay here and not move, alright?" She was starting to bleed internally, but he wouldn't dare freak her out more as he quickly made the knot of the fabric tighter on her stomach.

It seems he didn't have to say it outright for her to understand.

It was like she could feel every overwhelming emotion he could. As if his fear had transferred to her.

"I don't wanna die." She whispers suddenly.

It was horrible to see it, someone so young knowing what dying meant, fearing it as any grown adult would. Did Sam think this way when they were children? Because Dean sure as hell did.

His green eyes strained on her blue ones, face hard.

"You are not going to die."

"Because you're a superhero?"

He smiles softly, "Because I'm a superhero."

A mirrored smile formed on her face, one that filled Dean with a sense of hope.

But the moment was short-lived when the front door juggled once and was swung open, slamming against the wall. Dean stands up quickly, knife raised in the air as the figure approached slowly. Haunting black eyes and a sinister smirk looking back at him.

Olive cowers back, "Dean! That's him!"

"Yeah, I gathered that," He responds breathlessly.

"Hunter?" The demon notes, "You guys always spoil the fun."

Dean raised his chin, not giving anything away, "Let the girl go, and I'll make it quick."

It wasn't a suggestion.

The Demon pretended to think, "Hmm—No deal!" He starts to pace, trying to make Dean antsy, watching every move.

"This what you do in your spare time?" Dean clenched his jaw, "Driving parents off the road and taking their kids?"

The demon smiled wide, "Just this time."

"Consider it your last time."

"We all have a job to do," The demon responds, "It's the suicidal little hunters like you who think they can stand in the way of destiny."

"Destiny?" Dean scoffs, trying to get under the creatures skin, "If bleeding out kids like cattle is your destiny then I'd be one sad son of a bitch," He twirled his knife between his fingers, "Are we gonna keep yapping or are we finally gonna dance?"

The demon faltered, suddenly registering exactly who he was dealing with, "You a Winchester?"

Dean half-shrugs in a smug reply.

"Well, you must be Dean, considering the other one is down in the cage," He tried to poke a nerve in Dean, and it was working. "You know, loads of demons have stories about you. The only person to get a first-class ticket outta Hell."

"What can I say? I'm special."

He steps forward, Dean steps back.

"Do you have a clue on what you just walked into, Winchester?" It didn't sound like a question, more of a warning.

Dean raises the Knife, "I don't care. I'm leaving with the kid and permanently sending your ass to Hell."

The Demon rolled his neck. "Well in that case. ."

With a flick of his hand, Olive was forced up from the ground by the demon's phantom force. The pain was excruciating, her body going limp as the demon continued to raise her higher and higher.

Dean watched in horror as Olive shook and squirmed in the air.

"Let's make this a fair fight and keep the little time-bomb contained," The demon responds.

He faltered, lips parting in shock. Logically, there was nothing he could do for her up there unless he jumps for her but it would give a disadvantage. So, in rage he charges toward the demon, landing the first punch.

Olive's eyelids go heavy. Her face had gone pale as the moments continued to tick away. If she tried to move, the phantom force would tighten, suffocate, "Dean!—" A gasp for air, "—Help!"

It takes him all his strength not to glance back as he continued to slash his knife and dodge the demon at the same time. They were both bloody now, sweats and pants as they continued to fight in the middle of the room.

"If you knew what she was capable of, you'd be hunting her too," He growled into Dean's ear, pinning the Hunter in a headlock.

The knife was now discarded somewhere on the ground, and his face had gone from red to purple as the Demon put more pressure on his windpipe.

Olive cries, "Let him go—!" She gasps, "You big bully!"

The Demon barked out a laugh, "Well, aren't you just adorable?"

Dean looks to where she was dangling in the air, using all of his strength to say, "Stop moving! It only makes it tighter!"

Olive shakes her head, her chest rising and falling with every panicked breath. She couldn't help it. She was being forced to watch a demon beat her savior to the ground. There had to be something she could do.

I need you to be brave, can you do that?

Dean had asked her to be brave. It had been the first and only thing he had ever asked from her. Be brave.

She needed to be brave just like Dean was.

Which means every instinct in her body told her that she needed to fight back and save him. Her skin physically sizzling up at the thought.

"Olive—" Dean tried to form soothing works but the feeling of his vision going out made him stop, his heart slowly starting to beat until it was only faint little thumps.

"NO! Let him go!" She let out a powerful scream, her eyes flickering a blinding gold hue as her chest heaved forward from above the room.

A wave of energy escapes her body in a bright, golden haze. The Demon lets out an agonizing scream, dropping Dean and raising his hands in an attempt to shield himself from the blunt force.

His skin began to sizzle, burning from the inside out as Dean tucks his head into his chest, his arms covering his head until the golden streams come back to Olive's body like a yo-yo.

And her body instantly fell from the sky in an unconscious heap.

Leaving a burned-out Demon and a confused Hunter.

Dean's eyes darted around the clearing, the sound of flapping wings before a raven-haired man in a crème colored trench coat appeared in the doorway from the kitchen, looking more than confused at the scene.

"Cas." Dean breathes out in relief, closing his eyes for a moment to compose himself.

The Angel must have known he was in trouble, right?

Castiel pressed his fingers against the man's temple, healing him, without a word.

"Thanks for that."

Cas tilts his head in confusion, "This. . .was not me."

He motioned to the burning corpse on the ground.

Dean rolled his eyes and stood up, "Sure, and I'm Korean."

"Your ancestors are not–" Castiel stops himself with a sigh, "I was on my way back to Heaven when I felt a strong energy wave come from the area. ."

He looked at the tree stump, then at the symbols, and then at the wardrobe, "I just got here," He crouches down to investigate the metal bowl, "This was the work of ancient symbols and summoning spells."

Cas stands up abruptly, suddenly becoming more alert than every, "This Demon was trying to open the cage. . ." He says more to himself, walking over to the wardrobe and grabbing the closed handle firmly.

The Angel moves back when the doorknob sizzles at his vessels skin, looking down at his hand in surprise.

"Ancient Angel Warding," Castiel responds.

Dean throws his hands up, "Can you tell me what the fuck is going on?!" He demands.

"Whatever was in here was specifically warded away from Angels with very old Enochian," Castiel firms.

The Hunter falters. Olive was locked in that wardrobe.

"More specific?" Dean orders. "And what do you mean you didn't gank that Demon? You're the only one here."

"Dean. It wasn't me."

Almost comically both of the men turned towards the unconscious five-year-old on the floor.

Dean glanced at the Angel worriedly before rushing over to her, "Hey, Hey kid wake up." He tapped her forehead softly, then poked at her cheek.

She didn't even stir and that's when the panic sets in.

Her mouth was covered in blood.

"Cas! Heal her!" He demands, pushing her hair back and feeling for a pulse, "Damnit, Olive. Come on!"

When there was no reply from the Angel, and Dean looks over his shoulder, where Cas stood firmly.

His eyes were on the girl in a mix of shock and disgust, causing Dean to stand up quickly when Cas pulled out his Angel blade.

"What the hell are you doing? She's hurt!" Dean bellows, moving in front of her as Cas came closer.

"That demon used Enochian, which means he had clear instructions to set Lucifer free," He responds, pointing his blade in her direction, "The energy I felt came from her. You can't see it, but she's glowing, Dean. Something that powerful shouldn't exist."

Dean shakes his head, stepping in front of her,

Castiel looked livid, "It could be in league with Lucifer. She could be dangerous!"

"In league with–! Are you insane? She's just a kid!" Dean bellowed, taking a step forward. He falters at his own words. She's just a kid. The woman in the car had said the same thing before she died.

"She killed that demon." Castiel pressed, "Burned it to a crisp. What makes you think she won't do the same to you or I?"

"She saved me! Doesn't that count for holy brownie points or somethin'?" Dean yelled.

His face goes blank, "I need to take her to Heaven for examination. Hopefully, termination."

Dean crossed his arms, stubbornly not moving.

"Oh yeah, great idea, Cas. Let her be tested by your douchbag feather patrol," He responds, "What do you think is gonna happen when they can't twist her into doing things for them? Like they've been doing to Sam and me, huh?"

Cas clenches his jaw.

"She's just a kid, man! They'll kill her, Cas! I didn't come out all this way just for her to die! That blood is on both of our hands!" He growled.

"And what do you suggest we do? Let her go?"

Dean doesn't respond.

"Dean, that type of power hasn't been on Earth since the beginning of time. I can't just walk away from this."

Dean spoke before his mind could comprehend it, "I'll take her."

Cas frowned, "Pardon?"

"Look, I need you to trust me. Whoever she is, whatever she can do. I'll handle it. I'm sick of Angels man, no offense," Dean continued.

What was he saying? He didn't know the first thing about taking care of a little girl, especially one with super freaky energy voodoo but he couldn't help it. The thought of her being taken to Heaven to be tested and potentially killed made his churn.

"Wouldn't it be safer to keep her with me?" He pressed the Angel, "I mean it's total chaos up there and you'll be the one adding to the heavenly plate. They will kill her on the spot, Cas. No hesitation."

"Dean—"

"She doesn't deserve to die for something she has no control over. End of discussion."

His words had a double meaning, and Castiel understood that.

Dean wasn't just referring to the girl; he was referring to his brother too.

Both Sam and Olive didn't have a choice. They didn't ask for their freaky powers, they didn't ask to be used for something wicked and greater than them. The lack of choice alone was what got Sam killed in the first place.

Cas understands that Dean feels obligated because he couldn't save Sam. He needed a win. Just one damn win.

The Angel was conflicted.

He knew that the child was dangerous. As a soldier of God, a threat this big was trained to be taken out. He needed to make a hard choice right now and Dean could practically see the hesitation in his eyes.

Then again, Castiel never claimed to follow all the rules, right? Dean stared at him emotionless, but his pleading eyes gave everything away and that alone made the Angel sighed in defeat.

"She isn't an Angel, she has no wings. Whatever grace she could possibly possess comes from pure energy, which is all around us." He says slowly, trying to find a loop hole for the situation.

Dean leaned forward in anticipation.

"I don't sense anything dark inside of her, so. . .until I can understand what we're dealing with, I supposed the safest place for her would be with you." Cas walked towards her but Dean shifts in the way out of habit.

The Angel gave him a knowing look before kneeling down and pressing his fingers against her temple.

Almost instantly, Olive let out a soft sigh, sinking deeper into sleep as the blood on her lips dried and her wounds and bruises were gone.

Olive curled into herself, dark blonde hair sweeping over her round features, enhancing her innocent babied features.

Cas turned away in guilt, realizing that he could never go through with murdering a child. No matter what his instincts were.

Dean mumbled a barely audible thank you before grabbing the girl from the ground and carrying her out of the cabin and hopefully toward the car through the woods.

"I'll clean this up," Castiel responds, waving his hand over the mess and symbols of the cabin, the place cleaning itself up as the symbols burned back into unrecognizable wood.

Olive's head rolls into Dean's shoulder as he waited for the Angel, causing him to snap his head down in surprise and stare down at her for a moment.

When Cas was done, they follow each other back to the highway.

The men were silent the whole way back.

Castiel staring at the child curiously over Dean's shoulder, making sure she was breathing all the way back to the car like a scared toddler watching a newborn in its mothers arms.

When they had gotten back to the Impala, Dean slowly places her in the backseat, draping his leather jacket over her small, boney frame.

The hunter subtly avoided looking towards the car wreckage down the road. Which was now swarmed with police and ambulances.

"What are you gonna do now?" Dean asked, his eyes strained on the highway once they were out of sight.

Cas narrowed his eyes in thought, "Return to Heaven, I suppose. Give an excuse for the child."

"Heaven?"

"With Michael in the cage, I'm sure it's total anarchy up there." He explained lightly.

Dean scoffs, "So what, you're the new sheriff in town?"

Castiel's lips tugged up in amusement, "I like that. Yeah. . I suppose I am."

He shook his head, "Wow. God gives you a brand new, shiny set of wings, and suddenly you're his bitch again."

The angel's amusement faded, "I don't know what God wants. I don't know if he'll even return. It just. . .Seems like the right thing to do."

"Well, if you do see him, you tell him I'm going for him next." He clenched his jaw.

Cas turned his body, facing him. "You're angry." He notes.

Dean wants to raise his voice, but then his eyes catch sight of the little girl through the mirror, "That's an understatement," He said lowly, glancing away from Olive.

"He helped." He responds. Dean scoffs at that, "Maybe even more than we realized." Cas pressed.

"Well, that's easy for you to say. He brought you back! But what about Sam? What about me, huh? Where's my grand prize? All I got is my brother in a hole and a little angel kid in the back seat." Dean stated.

"You got what you asked for, Dean," Cas explained as Dean glanced in his direction. "No paradise. No Hell. Just more of the same. And she is not an angel."

When Dean didn't respond, Cas continued.

"I mean it, Dean. What would you rather have? Peace or Freedom?" Cas sighed, "Just take care of the child."

With that, Castiel disappeared, as if he were never there at all.

Dean turned his head and stared down at the empty seat with tired eyes.

"Well, you really suck at goodbyes, you know that?" He mumbled.

Dean found himself looking back at Olive through the rearview mirror. His heart tugging at the sight of her curled into his leather jacket, sound asleep.

Once he realized he was smiling a bit, he shook his head, scoffing at himself.

Damnit, Dean. What have you gotten yourself into?

PUBLISHED, 05/12/2020 !
REVAMPED,  08/03/2022 !
WORD COUNT, 5,769 !