Small Town Killings (Dean, Castiel)

[Sam Winchester]

Martin, GA – It was a small town, with a population of barely 300, a town where people kept to themselves. Everyone knew each other of course, and your doors were never locked, things always seemed perfect. Your neighbor was your best friend, you knew your teacher’s kids, and the law was always upheld. When people passed away, the entire town took notice and mourned as a family.

That was how it began at least, when the first member of society died suddenly. Tim was in his 80s, though a very healthy 80s. He ran everyday, always ate the food his doctor recommended and hardly ever touched the sweet stuff. When he died in his sleep, the town was shocked, though they could live with it. Everyone assumed it was natural, and in a way, it was. However, Sam had stood over his bed, reached out and touched the warm skin of his hand, and watched his breathing suddenly stop. Death had reached out and grasped the soul to take to the other side, allowing his Reapers to do their jobs.

The first time was the hardest, and the tightening in his chest lasted for what seemed like months, though in reality it was only about two months. Two months of learning his new powers, two months of learning his new role. Reapers bowed before him, Angels respected him, and humans feared him. They never understood, the natural balance to the world had to be upheld, no matter what. That was what brought Sam to Georgia, fixing the chaos that the Archangels had created. When the Apocalypse was a bust, people lived, too many people. Some had to die, there was no way around it.

That was why Sam stood over the bodies now, taking them in their sleep. He hadn’t had enough practice, hadn’t walled up his emotions enough to take them while awake. In his mind, he justified that they were at peace. Tim was just the start, as Sam reached out and took all forms. Women and children, adolescent and young adult, age nor gender changed anything. It was the natural order, the young had to die just as much as the elderly did.

“Why?” The girl was only 9, standing between Sam and the Reaper as she asked the hard questions. Still, Sam hadn’t perfected his answers, and still, the Reapers refused to give him the answers. It had to come from him, they said. “Because God has bigger plans for you.” It just slipped out. Sam didn’t really believe it, he knew the truth, but the truth was too harsh, even for a soul to hear.

In a span of five months, twenty people had fallen victim to Sam’s grasp. Twenty otherwise healthy people, in a small town, left the town with a sadness that couldn’t be fixed. The ground had hardly settled before the next grave was dug up. The Reapers didn’t particularly care who Sam took, and where they lived. He was the boss now, and he was learning. A small town gave him sanctuary to learn to use his new powers. A single touch, and you would fall right where you stood. Sam had taken to wearing gloves when he walked around the town, though lately, he refused to show his face. Walking the streets, he was invisible, literally. Invisible not just to the humans, but the angels as well. Day by day, Sam learned new powers, and day by day, his control strengthened.

That wasn’t to say he was liking it, just getting used to it. Sitting at a small coffee shop, Sam watched as the locals walked by him. Waving to him, they had grown fond of the mysterious stranger, who claimed he was looking for a new start on life. Today, Sam was feeling social, as he tried to focus on his drink rather than the Reapers standing nearby, waiting for his word.

[Dean Winchester]

Twenty dead. That was the reason Dean was in Georgia, otherwise he would have stuck in New Mexico, where at least he could get good Mexican food. Dean flipped through the newspaper clippings on the bed and frowned. How could twenty healthy people just drop dead? It stunk of reapers to Dean, but he didn't know what would cause them to go crazy and kill people but he thought he would go check it out. Throwing the papers down he rubbed at his face and winced, he needed to shave, time to go visit the victim's family. The latest victim, he should say. Dean scowled down at the picture of the young girl the obituary said she was only nine years. He hated cases that involved kids, he wished the monsters would just leave them alone did they not have any sort of line that they didn't cross? Dean shoved the thoughts away, he knew better then to think like that. He knew that monsters had no morals and didn't care who they hurt. After all a demon attacked his brother when he was just six months old, and Dean had seen many a monster attack children. In fact some even preferred kids it was disgusting.

Pushing away his thoughts he ducked into the bathroom to slip into his suit, Dean decided that going in as a grief councilor would work better in this case, grieving parents didn't react well to FBI agents. Fixing his hair Dean straightened his tie and tucked away a few fake cards into his pockets and headed out the door. He rolled his shoulders now more used to the feeling of his wings. Dean liked to ignore the fact he was an angel now, he did this best by not looking at the wings and not moving them, because technically they didn't exist and technically nothing but that stupid oil could hurt his wings. Still pointedly ignoring his wings he opened the door of his baby and climbed in. He ignored how the seats felt against his wings and started the car. The radio blared AC/DC as he drove the few blocks to the family's home. Dean frowned when he noticed a car leaving and swore, it looked like he had just missed the family. Parking the impala, Dean drummed his fingers on the steering wheel thinking. What should he do now? Since he didn't exactly feel hunger anymore he was hesitant to go to a diner, but he felt strange having not eaten yet today. After telling himself to suck it up, he started the car and headed toward the main part of town.

Cruising the streets Dean sung under his breath as he scanned the stores for a place to eat. “Son of a bitch!” He swore, there was nowhere to eat. “Screw it!” He pulled into the nearest open parking place he opened the door and slammed the door before wincing. “Sorry, baby.” he whispered to the impala, Dean had his eye on the small coffee shop that he had spotted on his first drive down the street. Dean pushed open the door and smile, it smelled awesome in the shop. Dean wasn't normally one for coffee but he was sure he could get a nice sweet or something. Heading to the counter Dean scanned the shop and his eyes stopped on a familiar figure. Sam. Dean paused and turned toward the man. He would know him anywhere. Dean had practically raised his brother, he knew everything about the man, almost. There was no way. Dean's eyes widened as he moved closer, it was Sam. How the hell? “Sam?” Dean whispered staring directly at the man he knew to be his brother. Dean didn't care how it happened or what it meant. His brother was alive, possibly and as long as it really was Sam he didn't care.

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[Sam Winchester]

"Dean's in town." Tessa spoke softly from behind Sam, having appeared only seconds beforehand. He didn't turn his head, didn't try to focus on the reaper that would be invisible to everyone else in the shop. Oddly enough, Sam had begun to get used to bodies appearing behind him, without him jumping to see what the creature was.

So Dean was in town, it was probably only a matter of time. The news bothered Sam though, the only news Sam needed to confirm that Dean hadn't kept his promise of a normal life. No, Dean was hunting, and now hunting his own little brother. Looking down at the cup in his hands, Sam tapped his ring finger against the outside, making a soft 'clink' from the steel. Sometimes the ring still felt weird, though lately, it felt more normal than anything else.

The bell above the door chimed as a man walked in, and Sam didn't even have to raise his gaze to know. If there was one good thing about being Death, you were hardly alone, and you had an army of loyal reapers keeping you informed. Finally, Sam raised his head when his name was called, though Sam was the brother that got the true shock.

Blinking twice, Sam stared at Dean. Not at Dean, but the wings. Dean had wings. Standing up, Sam took a few steps and crossed the distance between them, trying to keep prying ears from overhearing something unusual. "Dude....you have wings. Like God Squad wings in your back." Sure, Sam had come back from the dead, but Dean was an angel? That was too much to believe.

"I must say Dean, it's kind of nice to see you when you aren't dying." Tessa smiled to Dean from her place in the shop. An angel now, Dean had the power to see what normal people didn't, and surely he would notice the reapers in the town. After all, he had come because of them.

Once more, Sam did not turn to face the woman who no one else saw, unless he wanted to appear insane. That was probably the weirdest thing, not being able to look at the reapers as long as he was visible to humans. "Thank you Tessa, you can go now. You can all go." There was no argument, no questions, all the reapers disappeared as they teleported themselves away from their boss. After living his life with Dean, it was sometimes nice when people listened without argument.

Standing tall over Dean, Sam looked down on his older brother, as he so often did. It was weird to meet up like this, and it wasn't Sam's intention. Draw out another hunter, sure, but not Dean. "You were supposed to live a normal life. How'd you managed to get tarred and feathered?"