❝ HEAVEN ON EARTH IS NO LONGER A CLICHÉ. ❞
↳ in which the angel in a trenchcoat falls in love with the girl that can hear the angels-who just so happens to be dean winchester's twin sister.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀
( season 4+ )
( makayla winchester x castiel )
#1 i...
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flashback -
THE MOTHER was pinned to the ceiling when she died. She wore a dress of flames.
The air was ridden with ash as smoke tumbled through the doors of the nursery; wails of the six-month-old child who resided there could be heard from down the hall.
The father was the first to enter the room. At the time, his brain could not comprehend the scene before him- his wife flush against the ceiling, being restrained by some unknown source, his youngest son deafening the room with sobs.
It wasn't until the woman burst into flames that the man reacted.
"Mary!" His voice was lost among the chaos, the crackling of the newborn inferno and the cries of the infant drowning his exclamation.
The daughter was only five years old at the time- impossibly innocent and agonizingly unprepared.
The commotion startled her from her slumber. She awoke with a jolt, her eyes wide open and her mind immediately roused. From her place on her bed, she met eyes with her twin brother across the room. His chestnut brown hair was disheveled and his misty green gaze was full of alarm. It was obvious he had risen in as much of a haste as her.
They both leaped out of their beds instantaneously, and if it were not for the treacherous circumstances, the brother might have made a joke about their identical tendencies; they were a set of twins that proved the idea of telepathy.
She was right at his heels as they stumbled down the corridor, cheeks dusty pink and soft bodies groggy from sleep.
A wave of unbearable heat washed over them, making them both hesitate. They slowed when the inside of the nursery was in view. The daughter wanted to vomit.
The fire licked at the yellow walls and across her mother's pale, clear flesh. The tendrils of black and gray burned her eyes red and raw as tears began to cascade across her cheeks.
Her father yelled something at the two of them, but she didn't hear. His lips were moving, but no sound emerged.
Embers and sparks sizzled all around, but the young girl could not tear her eyes away from the look of absolute terror that glazed her mother's features. Her face was barely visible between the flickering, engulfing flames. Her porcelain skin was wax- dripping, melting, deliquescing straight down her bones.
A hand yanked against the girl's wrist, and she was finally ripped away from her stupor. She followed her twin out of the home blindly, her eyes full of salty tears and images that could never be unseen.
