It's Our Destiny - A Supernatural Reader-Insert

Chapter Nineteen - A Means to an End

A/N: Okay, so I know I said that there will not be many Authors Notes but I felt that I had to put a disclosure here.

So just be warned with this chapter. ALOT of it is basically scene by scene taken from Supernatural , beginning of Season 7. I kind of hated doing this, but I figured I had to finally place my story into a time frame. So yeah, a lot of the story line in this chapter I do not own, and belongs to the writers/producers of the TV series Supernatural.

Now another few warnings, I kind of want to hurry this timeline along so there may be a few chapters when you'll hear nothing of Sam and Dean and then I'll do a chapter like this one.

I am, however, planning on a reunion soon, a slow one...

Let me know what you think. Also this chapter changes point of view a lot so let me know if it gets too confusing and I'll try and fix it and, uh, I didn't really get time to edit properly, so yeah, let me know.

Thanks

-Ducky :)

#19 - The Means to an End

You took the stairs two at a time as you sprinted towards Bellamy's apartment. Your heart was beating so fast you thought that it might just leap out of your chest. You neared the door and fumbled through your pockets for your key. There was no sign of forced entry, so that was one thing. Once your key clicked the door open you practically fell through the opening.

"Bellamy?" you called out "Bell? Where are you?" you stumbled through the building in a panic until you reached the kitchen counter. Your heart finally settled in your chest as you realised that Crowley's threats were as empty as what he had left with that night. A note lay on the counter with Bellamy's messy handwriting scrawled over it. You picked it up and settled upon one of the tall bar stools at the black marble counter. So it appeared that he had just left to visit his sister. It said not to wait up as he'd be home late. 

You stared at the note a moment longer, a smudged fingerprint from your bloodied hand lingered on the edge of the paper, holding on in a tight embrace. You glanced at your red hands before screwing the note up and placing it in your pocket. You headed for the bathroom, stripping your clothing before climbing into a warm stream of water. You scrubbed at your hands, tainting the water that ran down the plughole. You ran your hands over your arms next, cringing as you pressed a dark bruise on the upper part. Demons.

Once you were done you climbed out once more, wrapping a dark towel around your body. You stared down at your clothes for a moment before scooping them off of the floor. You walked over to the trash can, digging the note from your pocket and burying it in the bottom of the trash. Finally, you reached the washing machine, where you threw your clothes inside the drum. You set it on high and threw in an unnecessary amount of detergent before starting it up.

For a long time you just stood and watched the washing through the glass window spinning round. You eventually found your way over to the couch, falling into the soft fabric. You looked to the place where you had buried the angel blade, deep in the cushions. The irony of how afraid you were to be without it tonight. How you had kept it safe, kept it hidden until you need it again. The truth - you wouldn't need it again.