Supernatural 1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I** **DON'T OWN SUPERNATURAL**

_**Author's note: This takes place in the bunker, months after Gadreel is expelled from Sam's body. Gabriel comes to save the day, and some how finds the magic in him to heal Sam . Sam passes out for months at a time, occasionally waking up and being fed but he wasn't healthy enough to physically sit up.. We start off in the living room, at 6:00 at night on a Thursday, Castiel's day. We leave you off there. Enjoy...**_

Sam awoke to the noise of chattering voices, under the dim light of the lamp. The moose-man stretched as the faded green blanket fell off of his waist. "Dean?" Sam whispered groggily.

"Hey Sammy." a familiar and teasing voice greeted him. It's owner was a golden-haired and eyed man. It was Gabriel, the Archangel which Sam had been secretly dating ever since they first met. Originally Sam thought that Gabe was a trickster, but he then found out he was an angel and their relationship went downhill from there. It was on and off from there forth until Gabriel was killed by Lucifer. Before Sam could reply to Gabe, Dean walked in the room with heavy footsteps. He had blood on his hands, and a few speckles of it on his cheek. Sam , brushed some of the hair by his face aside, and sat up. Dean and Gabriel started to panic.

"Guys. I'm fine... really. What did I miss?" The King of the Alces Alces species asked studying both of the other males' faces. His brother just kind of shifted awkwardly, not knowing what to say.

"It's too hard to explain right now. I'm gonna go wash up and take a nap." Dean sighed, rubbing his temples. The elder one walked to the kitchen, leaving Sam and Gabriel to cuddle on the couch. He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a small slice of pie, and a can of cola. Dean then proceeded to the little dungeon they had in the bunker with food in hand. A deep and dark echoed through the walls followed by a one-sided conversation. It stopped as soon as the green-eyed hunter walked into the room. There on the opposite side of where he'd tied Crowley down was a girl in a circle of holy fire. She was hugging her knees as if she was frightened or she was going crazy.

"Hey kid, I brought you some food. I figured you might be hungry."

The girl didn't respond.

"Aw, Come on. I don't bite." Dean teased, placing the pie and cola beside her. "Could you at least say something kid?" the hunter asked, folding his arms and shifting uncomfortably. Crowley snickered from the other side of the room. The girl only gave him a quick glance. "I brought you a crap load of sugar, the least you could do is say something." He told her. Again she just gave him a sad look. "C'mon squirt! You gotta give me something. I gave you my pie for God's sake!"

"Gosh's sake." She muttered.

"What?" Replied Dean.

"Gosh's sake you mean. It's rude to say Father's name in vain." The girl spoke, a bit louder this time, and turned her gaze to Dean.

"What's your name though? I mean I can call you all the nicknames in the world but I bet you wouldn't like that." The hunter asked, considering to maybe let the kid out. That could be stupid though. What if she was actually really dangerous? Again, the girl didn't respond and opened up the cola. Dean glared at the girl, but there was a bit of befuddlement in his harsh gaze since she dumped the soda pop on the holy fire, putting it out. The unnamed child tried to run out of the dungeon and tripped on the air. Crowley began laughing like a mad man as the girl escaped. Dean chased her of course, through the kitchen where Sam and Gabe were now flirting with each other, and through one of the many hallways. Again, she tripped on practically nothing in front of a door. What a klutz. The hunter grabbed her by shoulders and stuffed the girl in the room. "You could have just talked to me kid! Maybe I wouldn't have had to lock you away again." The prince-like male rasped, slamming all his weight against the door so she got stuck in there. Angels... There are only few on the Earth that you can really trust. Or that was Dean's input on it. "I hate angels." He grumbled.

"Yeah I can tell, since we seem to have a few locked up in dark rooms, bloody and beaten." Sam sassed, as he walked into the room with another man. It wasn't Gabriel though. This man was a bit taller than Gabe, maybe by a few inches, and he had piercing green eyes that shrewdly scanned over everything. He was all bloodied up from the torture that Dean had given him. The angel grabbed Dean by the collar and slammed him into the wall. Samuel started to panic, for he had not planned this.

"Let her go." The young man growled, his British accent stuck out like a sore thumb. Dean scoffed, rolling his eyes, that looked like they belonged to a Disney Princess. "Don't make me ask twice, Winchester." The angel rasped.

"Not in a million years, buddy." The elder brother replied with a chuckle. Gabriel pulled Dean out of the other angel's grip. He moved Dean away from the door.

"Everybody, just chill out, m'kay?" The archangel commanded.

"I will 'chill out' when my friend is released!" The auburn boy replied sternly. He was obviously very peeved about the whole situation. Gabriel sighed, and opened the door, letting loose the girl again. She ran right over to the other angel, hugging his waist.

"Barman!" She gasped noticing the cuts on his face, and the blood on his sky-blue button up. "I shall deafen the person who wounded you! Who would some one hurt a sweet creature like you?" She exclaimed, squishing her friend's cheeks together. Sam and Gabe were laughing. The so-called Barman put his hands on the girl's and moved them away from his face. He was embarrassed.

"Well now I won't have to listen to Sam's blah blah blah." Dean stated with a deep sigh. The little female's head turned to the hunter, and she scurried to the other side of Barman.

"W-Why is Michael here?" She whispered, clinging close to the boy.

"Dear, it's not Michael." He muttered, glaring at all three of the other males with such contempt. They were all huddled up, trying to figure out what to do with the pair. "It's Dean Winchester, he wouldn't hurt a fragile little being like you." He reassured her.

"But what about you? He wasn't the one who cut you up, was he?"

"That's not important..." Barman sighed.

"Yes it is! He-" before she could finish her sentence Dean interrupted.

"Alright ladies, both of ya are going to help us stop this war." The princely hunter commanded with a harsh tone. "No 'ifs', 'ands', or 'buts' about it! Welcome to the bunker." He hollered flinging his arms open with a great frustration. "Come on. Let's talk strategy." Dean hissed then proceeded to strut into the kitchen. Gabriel followed scolding the human for being so cantankerous.

"Don't worry. He's just angry. He's been through a lot." Sam tried to reassure them. Maybe it'd make them feel a bit more comfortable. Maybe it comforted himself, by making excuses of his brother's behavior on everything around them. Who knows?

"I've been through a lot too. Things are tough all over, and your brother should grow up and learn that." Hissed Barman. "Israfel please let go." The angel ordered fiercely. The girl did as she was told, and watched her friend storm after the other two men.

"E-excuse m-me sir? Um where is your first aid kit?" The so-called Israfel stuttered, looking down at her feet. A friendly and helpful smile appeared on Sam's face, and he lead the little angel into the study.

Meanwhile, Gabriel was listening to Dean and Barman. Barman was basically explaining everything, and what happened. Who he and his friend were. He explained that Israfel was the last choir angel, and she knew more than she appeared to. He explained he was a seraph who had the fortune of stumbling upon her lonely prison. They had to keep it all a secret though, but now that they were on Earth it didn't matter. Dean was conjuring up a plan in his head.

"Can you swear to me that if I die that you will keep her safe? You will take care of her? You will act like a parent to her?" Barman asked, his green eyes that usually filled with contempt and hatred, were now filled with this pleading look. He looked like a pitiful lost puppy instead of a brave warrior that he was.

"Yeah." Dean nodded, taking this really seriously. He needed the information, and if the girl had the information so be it. He'd be parent of the year, just for a good bit of info.

"Yes or No. Not yeh. This is a serious matter." The former seraph snapped. Dean shifted uncomfortably, looking other man with a serious expression.

"Yes. I swear." the hunter promised. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

Just as he said that, Israfel skipped into the room with Sam following. She held in her hand a damp blue rag and bandages. Sam walked over to join Gabe, and they started having an animated conversation about irrelevant matters. Israfel flashed Barman a sweet smile, and asked him to sit down. He did as she asked, though he really didn't want to have his wounds cleaned. He started to think for a minute or two, zoning out until he felt the cold damp rag against the cuts on his cheek. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, and glanced around nervously. There on the table was a bouquet of delicate and puny blue flowers. There were a bunch grouped together.

"Israfel, could you be a dear and hand me those flowers?" He asked calmly. The girl nodded, and retrieved them for her friend. She watched the seraph start stringing them together, and eventually made them a circle. He placed the circle on her head. Dean rolled his eyes and listened to Sam and Gabe chatter.

"Why thank you kind sir!" The girl giggled. "Now may I clean up that nasty gash on your tummy?" She asked politely.

"No!" Barman exclaimed running to the study. Israfel ran after him, yelling about how infections are nasty and how his cut needed to be taken care of right away. She held her flower crown on her head as she ran as well. Her friend flopped down on one of the chairs, and she hugged him from behind the chair.

"Caught you!" She squeaked. Barman chuckled at her excitement and looked up at the choir angel. She amused him.

"Now, if I'm right, which I always am, these flowers are called forget-me-nots. In 15th century Germany, people would wear them so they wouldn't be forgotten by friends or family." He stated in a matter-o-fact fashion. "It's scientific name is the Myosotis arvensis. They vary in different shades of light blue and violet." He continued to explain. "Those blue ones you have on seem to match your wings." Barman grinned. If one was able to see angel wings then one would know that Israfel's light blue wings were small and fragile in her vessel form, and one would know Barman's had been reduced to stubs ever since The Fall. His wings used to be a beautiful shade of chocolate brown. Oh how gorgeous they were to behold! The former seraph's expression turned from elated to grim within a few seconds. The glow in his eyes was replaced with a grief that couldn't be spoken, as he moved his rear from the chair onto the ground. He didn't want to do what he was about to do. He dreaded the thought of what he was about to do, but it had to be done for her safety!

"We need to talk." He whispered to the girl numbly, then patted the spot beside him.

"L-listen Barman, I-I'm so sorry about all of th-" Israfel tried to apologize to her BFF, but he took her hand.

"It'd be best if you'd forget me." He sighed, shaking the girl's hand. Then he let go. She wrapped her arms around him as tears welled up in her eyes.

"Please... Please don't leave me." She whispered.

"No don't worry. You didn't do anything love. It's everything around us." He sighed. "And I-I've brought you nothing but war." Barman vocalized with a slight voice crack. There was obviously many things going through his head.

"What do you mean?" Israfel asked with obvious hurt in her voice. "I love you." She vocalized, giving her friend a heart-broken stare.

"I can't and don't feel the same way. This is why I need to do this. To make your suffering lessen." Barman admitted. Israfel's face turned as white as sugar, and she started screaming at the former seraph. She started repeatedly hitting him in the chest, and of course it didn't hurt him physically. He ended up having to grab both of her wrists to calm the choir angel down. He then kissed her forehead. "I'm so sorry. I wish it wasn't this way, and I understand how scared and angry you must be right now, but please don't make this any harder. It's hard enough for me. Just take a minute to cool down, okay?" Barman whispered. Israfel hugged him again.

"That was wrong of me to hit you, and I apologize." The choir angel murmured.

"Shh. It's alright. Do something for me though. Please." He muttered in response. "Be the sweet little girl you are." He told her. Barman then proceeded to put his hand on her forehead, and erased himself out of her memory. The choir angel passed out in his arms, and he held her for what seemed to be the last time. He fought back the tears, and gently set her on the chair. Oh they had been through so much together. Not wanting to dwell on it much longer, Barman placed his pleather jacket on Israfel, like a blanket, and fled into the darkness of the night.

_**A/N: So this is like an alternate time-line of season nine, and Gabe saves his Moosey Boyfriend. If you hadn't noticed I ship Sabriel as hard as you can possibly ship something. It's just so CUTE, and Sam deserves someone. That Destiel you were promised shall happen next chapter. Next chapter's going to be a bit less tense.**_

_**Goodbye my children of the night!**_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Littlemissfandom for always helping me when I have writer's block. Ava is her character, and I suggest you go read some of her fanfics. LittleMissfandom is a fabulous writer.**

**Sorry this took so long guys! **

Israfel awoke to harsh whispers, arguing back and forth. One of the voices was obviously the elder Winchester, Dean. The other one she couldn't seem to recall very well, it was very gravelly, but some how calming and therapeutic.

"How are we supposed to trust this thing?!" Dean hissed, raising his voice to a regular level.

"I made a promise to her sister. I intend not to break this promise Dean," The other voice snapped in response. Israfel turned around quietly, peaking from behind the couch with that childish stare. The source of the second voice was a dark-haired man with eyes that seemed to pierce into her grace. Though he indeed seemed frightening, there was a certain kindness about him. Dean looked right into the man's soul-gazing eyes. The room was so quiet you could hear even the slightest increase in heartbeat. Dean playfully punched the man in the shoulder. "I guess you're right. I've always wanted to be an uncle." The hunter chuckled resignedly. He couldn't stay mad at his friend forever, but he knew this was a bad idea. He turned his head to the couch to find the child eavesdropping.

"Uh...Salutations," Israfel greeted the pair awkwardly. Dean's solemn expression turned agitated as soon as she said that.

"You were so much cooler when you were asleep," The hunter sighed and left the room in a huff. The dark-haired man turned to the choir angel and put on a soft smile.

"My name is Castiel. I spoke briefly with your sister, Avalon." He explained, walking over to her. His soft expression turned blank when the memories came flooding back.

_Castiel was trudging through the woods. Bright lights streaked across the night sky, giving hope to humans, and frightening any angel who had involuntarily taken the plunge from Heaven. Since the sight of the sky bothered him, knowing it was all his fault, he kept his ocean blue eyes to the ground. He walked around for hours, aimlessly. After maybe a couple hours he came across an injured woman. Her hair was a fiery red, and her eyes a deep purple. Pools of blood surrounded the female as she screamed about not feeling her wings. Castiel ran over to her side._

"_I am so sorry. I'm so sorry." He whispered to the woman. "This is all my fault. I wish I could heal you... Is there anything I could do to ease your pain?" He asked numbly. The woman nodded weakly._

"_Care... for... My... fledgling." The woman murmured. _

"_What's it's name?" _

"_Is-Israfel." The woman smiled weakly, her eyes fluttering shut, and her wings were scorched onto the forest floor. _

"Monsieur? Are you alright?" The girl asked worriedly, running over to him.

"Yes. Yes. I'm fine." The dark-haired man nodded slowly, entering reality once more. "Let's go get you something to eat. You don't want your vessel to go insane." He cooed, gently herding the child into the kitchen. Sam and Gabriel were sitting at the table drinking some beer, and chatting. Dean was just pulling a cold one out from the refrigerator.

"She spilled the last soda. I'm not running out to get more." The older hunter growled.

"I apologize for spilling your last carbonated beverage Mr. Winchester," Israfel stated, "It was inconsiderate of me. You may have wanted to drink it."

Dean looked at the choir angel and let out a deep sigh.

"It's alright kid. I don't drink soda that much anyway." He chuckled, patting her head awkwardly. Sam and Gabriel were muttering to each other. They seemed to be in a heated conversation, as Sam glanced back and forth at his brother, with such hatred and disgust in his eyes. Gabriel his lover in the head, hard enough so he would feel it, yet not hard enough to bruise. Castiel made a disapproving sound, for they had an impressionable, naive angel in the room.

The petite girl watched and listened to everything said by anyone. She listened to the tone and the pitch of voice, studying the meaning, and the meaning under it. Words were _very sacred _to her, since she had never exchanged many.

"He brought me back for the wrong reasons Gabe!" Samuel exclaimed, with violent gesticulations.

"God da*$% Samsquatch," his archangel snapped, "I would have done the same thing if I were in his shoes!"

The moose bellowed, "Then why don't you go date Dean? Huh!".

Gabriel's jaw dropped as he watched his beloved storm off, into deeper parts of the bunker. The moose's brother let out a deep and agitated sigh, for there was too much drama. Dean took a swig of his beer and mumbled, "Some one's on their man period."

Israfel looked like she wanted to say something, but she refrained. She didn't understand how someone could be _on_ a period, for it is a little dot, or how a period could have a gender.

"Where's your friend?" Gabriel inquired, glancing at the choir angel. He really wanted to change the subject.

"What friend?" Isy responded in utter confusion.

"The tallish one, with the red hair and the green eyes."

The girl looked even more confused, and she shook her head, "I don't have a friend like that."

Dean, Castiel, and Gabriel all gave each other befuddled glances.

"Well thank you for the shelter, but I need to go find my sister." The girl vocalized, wiping dust off of her dress. Dean grabbed her wrist before she could walk away.

"There's a war out there... I ain't letting anyone else getting caught in the crossfire." The hunter mused, staring at the floor. "Now you're going to sit down, and we're going to help you find your sister..."

**A/N: This chapter is super short. Yeah... But basically at the end, Dean is going to try to right the wrong of which happened to Kevin. So yeah. NEXT CHAPTER: We follow Barman into the war, into the factions. When he joins will he be killed in the process?**


	3. Chapter 3

The stars would have been overhead if it weren't for the light pollution of the shady looking lamps in the parking lot of the hotel. An older motorcycle pulled into the parking lot. Now don't think because it's old that it wasn't nice and clean. It was in original condition.

The rider was just as out of place as the motorcycle though. He didn't feel the need to wear a helmet, which wasn't smart. His piercing green eyes scanned the building suspiciously, as he parked his beloved vehicle. He put his keys in his pocket, and strolled up to the establishment with false confidence. Yes, the rider was Barman, and he was looking for some one.

Flashes of a familiar light blue were in his peripheral vision as he pushed on the revolving door. The lobby was very modern, and colorful, yet empty. The only living creature in sight, was a shorter dark-haired man, who was singing along to _Bohemian Rhapsody_ by Queen. He was an angel though, you could tell by his gray wings. The gray-winged angel just continued to sing, completely ignoring Barman.

"Mihael!" The former seraph barked at the singing angel. The little man stopped and rolled his chocolate brown eyes.

"Just chillax Bar. We've got time to go to Bartholomew. He could care less about you honestly," The so-called Mihael said calmly.

Barman ran a hand through his auburn locks and let out a stressed sigh.

"Barth would have automatically accepted you if you brought that choir angel with you," chuckled Mihael. The short, and gray-winged angel turned off the music, strut over to the former seraph and said, "But uh. Every one knows about your little soft spot for the thing. You'd never put her in harms way."

"Shut up shortie," Barman snapped.

"Why so defensive? Also, you should come up with better come backs," Mihael snickered. "Like for instance," He continued, "calling you a dim streetlamp."

"My domain is intelligence, you bleak bird!"

"Someone avoided the first question. Shame."  
>"Shut up!" Barman bellowed.<p>

"You know bro, I don't believe I will," Mihael teased, with a sly grin on his lips.

"At least the person I love is still alive," Mihael's younger brother muttered.

Mihael's sly expression turned to absolutely livid.

He said calmly, "Now Bar, the thing you call a person can never love you back." The shorter, yet older angel flashed a smile again. "Though you seem to need it..."  
>"What do you mean?"<p>

"Your wings are gone..." the angel of loyalty told his brother.

Barman felt his wings or their lack of, on his back. He let out a deep sigh, knowing what he needed to do... He needed to get someone to fall in love with him. Not just any love though, it had to be true love.

**A/N: So there is the main mechanic for Barman's side of the story. Team Free Will next chapter! Plus, I'll make it longer! C: Thanks for reading! Feel free to give me constructive criticism! Also, Question of the Chapter: What do you want to see in future chapters?**


	4. Chapter 4

Dean sat under the bright reading light he had in the bunker, trying so hard to listen to Castiel's explanation. He actually had no clue what in the world that Cas was talking about. He might have been talking about Avalon, Israfel's sister.

Dean interrupted, "Cas, I could care less about Ava-whatever, alright?"

"I understand... You have Sam to worry about," The fallen angel replied with an understanding nod.

"Then add the fact, that we're stuck with the weirdo angel," Dean sighed, "and we have no clue what it knows, or what that thing is capable of!"

Castiel's eyebrows knit together, and he frowned in disapproval at the word choice of his hunter friend.

"Maybe if you gave Israfel the chance to open up to you, you would understand she's just an innocent fledgling!" He snapped at the hunter. "You and Sam are very intimidating from a child's point of view."

"Why are you defending that freak?" Dean hissed at his friend. Little did they know, that the "freak" was standing right around the corner, listening in. Her little heart was shattered in pieces.

Israfel unobtrusively snuck away from the pair. So many things raced through her mind. She couldn't let anyone see how she felt though. She couldn't let them know that she felt things, so she ran to the study. She couldn't help but admire the smell of musty books, but something didn't feel right. On the floor laid a brown leather jacket that reeked of Eucalyptus and Spearmint. The childish celestial being picked the jacket up and hugged it, as if it was an old friend. It just smelled like it was owned by someone who was made from all the most wonderful things in the world. She gently slipped it on, and all of the harsh words of Dean slipped away from her mind. Though she couldn't wrap her mind around why it made her feel so safe. Why would a stupid jacket make anyone feel safe? The choir angel crawled onto one of the chairs and curled up in the magical brown jacket, as salty tears swept down her cheeks. She hid her face in the crooks of the chair, and wept violently. Why couldn't she remember why the scent was so comforting?! Why was it also, so melancholy? She laid there and strained to remember, straining to find a reason.

Heavy footsteps echoed throughout the room and they was followed a quiet, "Oh * $% #!"

The first-born Winchester whispered, "I'll call you back Cassy," to the phone he had by his ear.

He walked over to the seat, not knowing what to do. What do you do with a crying teenage angel? So the hunter did what seemed the most logical and yelled for Castiel and Gabriel. They ran to the study in as fast as they could, scared that Dean or some one was hurt. When they got there to find the crying little angel they were relieved that no one was hurt physically.

Then suddenly, Israfel sat up and said, "My apologies for letting you see me like this. This jacket I have found reminded me of something I can't remember. It was very forlorn, what ever it was."

Gabriel chuckled and smiled at the choir angel. "You're an odd kid," he stated.

"Gabriel... she's at least three million years old..." Castiel tried to explain to the archangel.

"Yeah? Well you're all kids compared to me," he retorted.

Out of the blue, Dean's cellphone started to ring. He sighed and picked it up as the angels continued to chatter.

"Hello?" He answered.

"Hello, is this Dean Winchester?" A low, tired voice asked.

"Yeah. Did you need something?" The hunter replied.

"Yes. We're having an angel problem in our town.. We need back up, and no one else knows how to kill them. We need your help."

"We?"

"My wife, my son, and me."

Dean kept quiet for a minute, for he felt the child's pain. This boy was raised like a soldier too... It wasn't fair to the young boy.

"Right... Right. Where exactly are you?" The elder Winchester sighed.

"At your front door..." The other man replied and hung up.

**A/N: So, finally the boys won't be outnumbered by angels. Yay! The explanation of how the family of hunters got to the bunker will be stated next chapter.**

**Question of the Chapter: How do you think Dean is going to act towards the Father hunter?**


	5. Chapter 5

Dean grabbed the knife out of his pocket, and ran to the entrance of the bunker. How could anyone even find it? Maybe Garth babbled about it... The handsome hunter cautiously opened the door to find a gray-haired man and an dark-haired woman. They appeared to be middle-aged, with very serious looks on their faces... Almost as if every emotion had been sucked out of them.

"Come on in," Dean sighed, and lead them deeper into the bunker.

Sam was sitting in the kitchen typing away on his laptop, not even paying attention to the people in the room. Gabriel and Castiel were also sitting at the table, staring at the newcomers. A fifteen year-old boy peeked his head around his parents, to observe everything. He had big bushy eyebrows, sandy blonde hair, and eyes just like his mother's. He had the same blank look on his face as his parents, but in those chocolate brown eyes there was a spark of defiance, and curiosity. He strolled out of the room as the adults began to talk about business. Oh how boring... He followed the sound of the radio playing down a hallway and to the doorway of a little room. In the room was a young pale girl, spinning and dancing around to a Broadway ballad about some guy named Jimmy. It was like she didn't notice him...

"Hi..." said the boy, hoping she would reply to him.

She turned around and looked at him with fear in her expression, then ran to hide under the bed in the room.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he promised. "We could be friends... I mean since we're around the same age, and both lonely," he told her. He put on a fake smile and crouched by the bed. He held his hand out to her. She scooted away from him, and closer to the wall.

Just then, some one screamed, "CHRISTOPHER! ISRAFEL! COME EAT!"

So, the so-called Christopher and Israfel ran out to the kitchen. The table was set for all eight of the people in the bunker. Sam and Gabe sat next to each other, and rebelliously held hands under the table.

Dean and Castiel sat together, with Israfel on his side. She sat by Christopher who sat by his parents.

"Isy, that's Blake and Miranda Lafyute," Sam told the choir angel, "and you already met Chris."

"S-S-Salutations," the girl greeted the family meekly, putting her napkin on her lap. Luckily for her, they just waved and sat their attention on the Winchesters.

Dean didn't seem to appreciate their parenting skills, or their first interactions with Castiel and Gabriel.

"When we leave," Miranda mused as she ate her salad, "may we leave our Christopher here?"

" I don't trust him to take care of something so-" Castiel started to say but was cut off by his BFF, Dean.

"Why'd you even bring him in to the business if you're scared he'll get hurt?" The scruffy hunter sassed.

"I-I wanted to sir," The blonde teenager spoke up, looking straight at Dean with as much emotion as a white wall. His brown eyes were screaming for help, screaming to be set free.

"Chris is a fine shot, and a good soldier, but I thought he could take care of your child," Blake stated and started to cut some of his food. This just ticked Dean off.

"Children aren't soldiers..." He deadpanned, looking Miranda and Blake straight in the eyes. He was infuriated. Sam also looked to be annoyed by these other hunters, but tried to focus on his beloved salad and his beloved Gabriel.

"Children aren't prisoners either," Blake shot back calmly, and gave Dean the evil eye.  
>"No one is a prisoner here," Castiel spoke up.<p>

The room was dead silent. The whole time though, Israfel studied how the humans used their utensils in utter amazement. They held the metal sticks so daintily, that she wanted to try too. So the choir angel awkwardly tried to pick up Christopher's spoon with her thumb and her middle finger. Her confusion and curiosity helped her gain many bewildered looks from the Lafyutes and the Winchesters.

Israfel poked Castiel's shoulder with the spoon gently and giggled a bit. But her happiness was short lived since Dean yanked the piece of silverware from her grip.

"If you're so interested in silverware, why don't you clean the dishes?" The attractive scruffy man told her.

"Well, that's not sexist," Chris spoke up. Gabe and Sam started to giggle at the boy's sass level.

On the Sass scale, Chris was a level nine out of ten. He just concealed it the best, especially after years of being told what to do, where to go, what to say.

Dean flushed slightly, for he never meant it like that.

"I mean, you don't have to be rude," the blonde boy continued, "your boyfriend isn't mad about being poked with a spoon."

His mother exclaimed, "Christopher Darcy!"

Chris frowned loudly.

"But I mean, have you seen the way Mr. Winchester looks at Mr. Castiel?" He asked. By now Sam and Gabriel had to leave the table since they were laughing so hard.

"I'm not gay," Dean grumbled. He felt less sympathetic for Chris now. Castiel didn't say anything however, he kept his ocean-blue eyes on the ground.

"Sure," Chris said sarcastically, and rolled his chocolate brown eyes.

Blake stood up at this point and stormed over to his son's chair. He grabbed the hood of the boy's faded green hoodie, and tried to pull him away. There was a resistance though, from the other side of him. When Blake looked over to see what was keeping Chris in his position, he found that Israfel was holding on to the boy's wrist. Not wanting to hurt the choir angel, he let go of Christopher and went back to his seat.

Eventually all the adult's left to go discuss their battle plan for when they rid the Lafyutes' town of hostile angels, and the kids started to pick up the dishes. Israfel hummed as she picked all the plates and the cups, and gave them to Chris who stood by the sink.

"Why don't you stick up for yourself?" He asked her as he scrubbed down a bowl.

She sighed heavily, picked up the silverware, and pretended like she didn't hear his question.

"I'm curious to know," he said again.

"I-I didn't know I was being picked on..." The choir angel shrugged, and handed him the forks.

He turned around and gave her a look of pity. Oh how awful it would be to be a confused, socially awkward, lonely, dorky little angel. She just stared at him, a bit puzzled about what he meant by making that face.

"You know, if you were my friend, I wouldn't let anyone pick on you," He admitted, trying to persuade her into a friendship.

"I've never had a friend before," she replied in awe. "If being a friend means protecting the other, does this mean that we are already friends?" Israfel asked with a sparkle in her large blue eyes and her hands on her cheeks.

Chris gave her a warm smile and answered, "Yeah, I guess it does."

"We could also be best friends," He explained.

"Oh Christopher! I would very much like that!" The girl squealed, and then gracefully tripped on a leg of one of the chairs which resided by the table.

**A/N: So there's the Lafyutes... I really love Christopher. He's a fun character to write for, since the sass level, and the fact that he's just so desperate for friends. Question of the chapter: Do you like Chris? What do you think will become of him?**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Reminder that this is AN ALTERNATE TIMELINE OF SEASON 9, with a few fan characters. This Chapter, we'll have more Castiel. And, I might find more reason to write more often, or fix things, if you guys would give me constructive criticism. That would be super cool.**

**Anyway, I present to you, Chapter six! Enjoy!**

Chris plopped down on the couch happily. First reason being, that the couch was really comfy. Second reason being was that he could finally pull out his cigarettes. He gently slid them out of his back pocket. Israfel awkwardly sat on the cold floor in front of the boy who possessed bushy eyebrows.

The choir angel furrowed her own thick eyebrows, and appeared to be pondering.

"Don't think too hard, Doll," Chris teased, "You might blow your brains out."

"_**I**_ have so many questions though," Israfel replied softly, looking back up at her new friend.

Chris chuckled, and gently pulled a cigarette from his pack. He also manifested a box of matches from his other back pocket.

"Ask away Babe," He purred, and light the match to light his cigarette. He then put the match out, and threw it at a trash can.

"Who is the female who brought you here?" Isy asked.

"My mother..."

"Ooo! I've never had a Mother! Can she be my mother too?"

"No, you _**don't**_ want a mother, all they do is nag," Chris lied. To be honest, he was glad he had his mother. She was much more understanding than his Father, and he could tell her anything. Though, apparently he did _**belong **_to a family of vessels for the angel, Mihael, he never had liked angels. Nor did his parents. Especially after the incident.

"What is that little burning cylinder in your mouth?"

"It's the only thing that keeps me sane in my insane life," the boy admitted with a shrug.

Israfel's nose scrunched up at the smell of the tobacco, and she carefully pulled it away from Chris's mouth.

"Don'tdo that! You'll burn yourself!" He shouted

"Christopher, this stick means to harm you," the choir angel murmured.

In reply, the young hunter ripped it out of her hand and stuck it back in his mouth. He was beyond the point of caring about his health.

"Ask more questions," he ordered her.

"Um okay, why did you call me a babe when I am 2,999,985 years older than you?" the curious girl inquired.

"No comment," Chris chuckled and shook his head. Then a peculiar smile formed on his face and he asked, "Do you have a boyfriend? Or an angelic lover or whatever? Because everyone here seems to have one."

"Not that I can remember. Why?" Israfel answered honestly. Yet, just before the other child could respond with his reasoning, Castiel and Dean walked into the room.

They were muttering and the eldest Winchester pushed his angelic friend towards the kids.

"It's time to retire..." The fallen angel stated, awkwardly.

"Am I staying _**here**_...?" Christopher asked.

To answer his question, Dean replied, "Yeah, your folks are getting themselves angel blades."  
>Chris sighed at the mere mention of his parents. Dean patted the kid's shoulder, knowing the pain of growing up as a hunter, and it tearing your family apart. He also, pulled the cigarette out of the boy's mouth, and threw it at a trash can.<p>

"No smoking," the eldest Winchester grumbled. Castiel put his hand on Dean's shoulder, pulling the taller male back. Christopher let out a deep sigh and got up.

"Could you lead me to my room sir?" The teenage boy asked respectfully. The green-eyed male nodded, and lead him down the hall. Isy bounced behind them like a happy little rabbit. Well, she was happy about her friendship with Chris.

Eventually Dean stopped a gray metal door, then opened it to reveal a room with bunk beds.

"I call the one lower to the ground!" Isy squeaked.

Dean gave her a shocked look, then remembered that Israfel knew nothing of humans, or what was acceptable to them.

"Okay listen up, I have rules. Rule one being: don't corrupt the innocent. Rule two: There is to be no kissing, or I will wring both your necks. Rule Three: When Chris is ready to sleep, Isy comes back out of the room. Stick with these, and I won't have to kick anyone's #% , okay?" The Winchester explained in a slightly irritated manner. Both of the teenagers agreed and ran into the room.

Chris ran in and climbed to the top bed, and laid his box of cigarettes on the faded green blankets.

Israfel hopped in and crawled into the bottom bunk, and rolled herself up in a blanket burrito.

Her hunter friend just chuckled.

He said, "Wait here, my cocooned amigo. I have to go get my pajamas."

Just then, Christopher snuck over to the curtains which hung from an apparent window, and crawled through them, escaping into the darkness of the night. When he escaped the bunker, he saw the limbs of trees reaching up to the beautiful, but dark night sky. The chilly air made his ears turn red, and so he put his hood over them. Then the boy began his twenty minute walk to the closest town near them. His mission was really to get some snacks so he and Israfel could bond a bit more. She seemed like a cool chick. Well really weird but cool all the same. He didn't know why he wanted to impress her though, she was obviously an angel, and he _hated _all and any angel. But why did he feel so strongly about Israfel? Chris turned his thoughts away from the awkward creature, and walked into a hotel bar.

There were only two other people in the room... One was so familiar, and the other was so distant.

The shorter one looked just like Chris's older brother from the back... but he lost his older brother in the incident. Cautiously, the young hunter stepped up to the short, dark-haired man and tapped his shoulder. The male spun around in his seat, revealing his identity. He had thick eyebrows, and chocolate brown eyes, just like Christopher!

"Mikey?!" Chris exclaimed in excitement. "Mom and Pops have been looking for you everywhere!"

The so-called Mikey let out a dark chuckle, and responded, "Nah, kid, it's still Mihael."

The angel beside him glanced at the younger boy and made a disgusted sound.

"You've gotten to be such a big boy, Chrissy Wissy," Mihael, the angel of loyalty teased.

"Mihael, leave the human alone," His younger brother, Barman, spat.

Christopher just backed away as the angels started to argue. He ran out of the building as soon as he could, and went to go do his errands.

The teenage boy arrived back at the bunker at 1:32 AM, with grocery bags of his favorite 99 cent soda, and a huge stuffed dragon hanging around his neck. Sure enough, however, there was a sleeping choir angel in a blanket burrito on the bottom bunk. Christopher silently set his grocery bags down, then crept over to Israfel. He put the giant green dragon beside her, and watched her for a minute.

She was so peaceful, and not worried or frightened. It was the happiest he'd ever seen her.

He smiled, and changed into his pajamas, then went to his top bunk. But he couldn't stop thinking about Mihael, and how Mihael possessed his brother... Why didn't Christopher just kill Mihael right then and there?!

_**A/N: Hey, guess what. Secret time! At the beginning of the paragraph, there's a few bold words. That's what Isy's thinking. Question of the Chapter: What do you think should happen next chapter? **_


End file.

Supernatural, Romance, Supernatural