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Apr. 30th, 2009 09:28 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
adiva_calandiaThese are all Batya's fault. :D
“Who're you riding today?” Dean spat. “What've you made her do?”
“Aw, Dean.” The demon pouted, twirling a lock of hair. “Are you worried about this poor body?” She laughed. “Don't be. Compared to the others, I'm practically a saint.” She rested the backs of her fingers against her cheek, coquettish. “She's used to it.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Don't worry your pretty little lunkhead over it, Dean. Just believe me – I haven't done anything half as bad with her as her previous . . . handlers have. Now” -- stretching -- “that seems to be enough pleasure. Let's talk business.”
-----
Black smoke came pouring from the girl's throat, screaming into the night. Hampered with gun and holy water, Dean couldn't move forward to catch her as she collapsed. As he reached her side, she began to wake.
“It's okay, take it easy.”
She focused on him, with some effort.
“Did I fall asleep?”
Dean blinked. “Uh. Maybe, I guess. You okay?”
“Did I fall asleep?”
“I . . . don't know, miss. Can you get up?”
“Did I-- Sh--” There was panic in her eyes. “Should I go now?”
“. . . Sure. Should I – call someone?”
She stared, confused, childlike, lost – and started to cry.
-----
Flickering lights; wind-slammed shutters. The girl jumped, frightened. Dean breathed a sigh.
“Cas, thank God you're--”
Behind him: “Dean.”
“Jesus, don't do that!”
“Is your business completed?”
“Yeah, and” -- a wave to the girl -- “picked up a stray. Something's wrong with her.”
Castiel turned. They stared at each other, he blank, she confused. When he came to her side she flinched.
“Look at me.” She obeyed. He looked into her eyes for a long time, then touched her cheek. “Sleep.”
Relaxing, she did.
“Who is she?” asked Dean.
“She is much abused,” said Castiel. “We will take her home.”
-----
“Where are we?”
“The city of angels. Bring her here.”
Dean hauled the girl to a chair, peering around at the dark, quiet house. Castiel knelt beside her.
“Echo, wake up.”
Her eyes opened. “Did I fall asleep?”
“Yes.”
Faint confusion. “Sh-- shall I go now?”
“Go in peace, child.”
She sat up, stood, still puzzled, and wandered a little ways.
“What's wrong with her?”
“She has had her free will ripped from her,” Castiel murmured. “She is as a child, and she has been sold for sins innumerable.”
“She what?”
“This place is abominable unto the Lord.”
“Damn straight.”
-----
There weren't many walls, so Dean had to settle for slamming the tech into a railing over the drop.
“Oh jeez no no no this isn't necessary!”
“What I want to know,” Dean growled, “is what you think gives you the right. What gives you the right!”
“I--”
“What does she do? Assasinate people? Fuck the highest bidder? And the rest of the time you keep her in here like a rental car. It's a possession clearinghouse! Do you understand what you've done?”
Click.
Dean froze, glanced sideways at the big man calmly holding a gun on him.
“Do you?”
-----
“You sure cut it close getting me out of there.”
“To everything its time.”
“What the fuck ever.” Dean scrubbed at his face. “Cas – what'll happen to her?”
“She cannot be held responsible for her actions.”
“Oh, great, peachy-keen. And that place?”
“Its crimes will be judged in due course.”
“Yeah.” Dean fell silent. Castiel watched him.
“Just -- if you guys rain down God's justice on it or something . . . don't do it while she's in there, okay? Or the others like her.”
Slowly, Castiel nodded. “For the sake of forty.”
“That a yes?”
Castiel almost smiled. “It's precedent. Yes.”
“Who're you riding today?” Dean spat. “What've you made her do?”
“Aw, Dean.” The demon pouted, twirling a lock of hair. “Are you worried about this poor body?” She laughed. “Don't be. Compared to the others, I'm practically a saint.” She rested the backs of her fingers against her cheek, coquettish. “She's used to it.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Don't worry your pretty little lunkhead over it, Dean. Just believe me – I haven't done anything half as bad with her as her previous . . . handlers have. Now” -- stretching -- “that seems to be enough pleasure. Let's talk business.”
-----
Black smoke came pouring from the girl's throat, screaming into the night. Hampered with gun and holy water, Dean couldn't move forward to catch her as she collapsed. As he reached her side, she began to wake.
“It's okay, take it easy.”
She focused on him, with some effort.
“Did I fall asleep?”
Dean blinked. “Uh. Maybe, I guess. You okay?”
“Did I fall asleep?”
“I . . . don't know, miss. Can you get up?”
“Did I-- Sh--” There was panic in her eyes. “Should I go now?”
“. . . Sure. Should I – call someone?”
She stared, confused, childlike, lost – and started to cry.
-----
Flickering lights; wind-slammed shutters. The girl jumped, frightened. Dean breathed a sigh.
“Cas, thank God you're--”
Behind him: “Dean.”
“Jesus, don't do that!”
“Is your business completed?”
“Yeah, and” -- a wave to the girl -- “picked up a stray. Something's wrong with her.”
Castiel turned. They stared at each other, he blank, she confused. When he came to her side she flinched.
“Look at me.” She obeyed. He looked into her eyes for a long time, then touched her cheek. “Sleep.”
Relaxing, she did.
“Who is she?” asked Dean.
“She is much abused,” said Castiel. “We will take her home.”
-----
“Where are we?”
“The city of angels. Bring her here.”
Dean hauled the girl to a chair, peering around at the dark, quiet house. Castiel knelt beside her.
“Echo, wake up.”
Her eyes opened. “Did I fall asleep?”
“Yes.”
Faint confusion. “Sh-- shall I go now?”
“Go in peace, child.”
She sat up, stood, still puzzled, and wandered a little ways.
“What's wrong with her?”
“She has had her free will ripped from her,” Castiel murmured. “She is as a child, and she has been sold for sins innumerable.”
“She what?”
“This place is abominable unto the Lord.”
“Damn straight.”
-----
There weren't many walls, so Dean had to settle for slamming the tech into a railing over the drop.
“Oh jeez no no no this isn't necessary!”
“What I want to know,” Dean growled, “is what you think gives you the right. What gives you the right!”
“I--”
“What does she do? Assasinate people? Fuck the highest bidder? And the rest of the time you keep her in here like a rental car. It's a possession clearinghouse! Do you understand what you've done?”
Click.
Dean froze, glanced sideways at the big man calmly holding a gun on him.
“Do you?”
-----
“You sure cut it close getting me out of there.”
“To everything its time.”
“What the fuck ever.” Dean scrubbed at his face. “Cas – what'll happen to her?”
“She cannot be held responsible for her actions.”
“Oh, great, peachy-keen. And that place?”
“Its crimes will be judged in due course.”
“Yeah.” Dean fell silent. Castiel watched him.
“Just -- if you guys rain down God's justice on it or something . . . don't do it while she's in there, okay? Or the others like her.”
Slowly, Castiel nodded. “For the sake of forty.”
“That a yes?”
Castiel almost smiled. “It's precedent. Yes.”
