Epiphany of Love; A Dean Winchester Fanfic

4

You never really know someone until you see them in their most vulnerable state. You may think you know them. I mean, sure, you know their personality, what makes them happy, what they like, you know the good stuff, maybe some dark. But you never know to what extent. Not until they break down, not until they are vulnerable.

When dusk began to set in, I return back to the car and hotwire it again. I drive back to the hotel, but when I arrive, I saw the Impala, "shit." I get out of the car and walk into the room. "He-" "Where have you been?" Dean questioned sternly. I hold up the to-go box. "Out, obviously. Sam gave me his credit card for food, so that's what I did, besides, why do you care?" "We thought you might have been killed or taken. You've been gone for at least 2 hours," Sam answers.

"I ask why he cared, not you," I retort. I go to one of the beds where my bag is. The zipper is open, but I swear I closed it. I look through the bag and see what is missing. I turn around and see Dean with the notepad, "what were you thinking bringing this?" "I was thinking that the quicker I finish, the quicker I can be done with your constant nagging, and complaining, and calling me names, and treating me like I'm stupid," I rip it from his grip.

Sam shakes his head, "what if someone found it? What if Crowley found it?" "Nothing would happen. The real tablet is still in the bunker. Plus, Crowley is a demon; he can't read this language. Only prophets, God, Metatron, me, and maybe the archangels or a few others," I answer. "Crowley kidnapped every future prophet. One of which can actually read the tablet now that Kevin is dead," Sam explains. I glance at Castiel, "are they always this way? Always think they are so right about everything." "Nespaniel, they are right," he furrows his eyebrows.

"I don't care that they are right. What benefit do they get from taking me with them to this stupid town for a stupid case I'm not involved with, when I can't translate the stupid tablet? There is a whole army of angels. That was the only reason I said yes to stay in the bunker and translate the tablet. For my safety. But that doesn't matter does it," I chuckle, "the second I finish translating that tablet, you guys will go back to not wanting to do anything with me, Castiel you will ignore me again. And Dean, well he won't change. Probably will break our deal too."

Sam looks at Dean, "deal?" Dean crosses his arms, "yeah, we made a deal when I bailed her out of jail. She translates the tablet and helps us with the trials; we provide her protection in the bunker and help her find her grace." 

 I sigh, "what did you guys find out about the case?" It was a good attempt to change the subject, but it didn't work. "You didn't answer my question. Where were you at," Dean speaks. "You didn't answer mine, why do you care?" "Because I want to know that... that you were safe or that you weren't blabbing what the trial is to Crowley." I scoff, "you almost said something nice for a change. I went to eat then went to a park and I was there for a few hours. And before one of you says it, I know it wasn't a good idea to go out in the open in public."

I sit down on one of the beds, "so, what did you guys find on the case?" "Well, we looked at the body of the guy whose heart exploded out of his chest, literally. There was a heart shape right through him. Then another incident where a guy jumped off a building but had a delayed fall." Sam answers. "Oh, like a cartoon," I ask. "Exactly. No idea what it is though," Dean answers.

"Well, I'm tired," I speak, "I'm going to go book a room for the night." "Wait, something is coming across the police band," Castiel puts his fingers to his temple. "You can hear that?" Sam asks. I listen too, one thing about being born an angel is that even when your grace is gone you can still hear angel radio, and sound waves, "through the sound waves. Yeah, a robbery at a bank," I answer. "Sounds loony," Castiel says. "Define loony," Dean says. "Like a cartoon," I answer.

"Alright, well, let's go," Dean says. "Can I come?" I ask. "No, you don't have a badge," Sam answers. "I could be a civilian consultant of the FBI, that is what you guys say you are, right?" Dean looks at Sam who shrugs his shoulders, "fine."