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Dead, Not Gone

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This story is No. 4 in the series "Resurrected 'Verse". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: Castiel’s a busy little angel, what with pulling Dean out of Hell, and others out of heaven.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Supernatural > Other BtVS/AtS CharactersJmariaFR1532,241084,53320 May 1017 Apr 11No

Angel's Wings

Title: Dead, Not Gone
Author: Jmaria
Rating: FR-15
Disclaimer: I do not own BtVS or SPN.
Summary: Castiel’s a busy little angel, what with pulling Dean out of Hell, and others out of heaven.
A/N: How many more fandoms can I cram into one ‘verse? This is set in the Buffy/Graham, Hank’s a Dark-Hunter, Joyce’s a White-Lighter, Dawn’s Hunting With Sam pre-resurrected!Dean, Riley’s divorcing pregnant!Sam Finn while taking on Martha Jones as a hunting alien/monster partner…Or what I like to call the Resurrected ‘verse
Also, heavily influenced by the songs Dead and Gone and Airplanes. Mainly Airplanes.
As a random side note for the Resurrected ‘verse,

Dead, Not Gone
Angel’s Wings


Sunlight filtered through dappled green-gold leaves, and all was right in her corner of heaven…except she was bored out of her skull. Cassandra Newton flopped down - unrealistically, she might add - on a bed of dried pine needles. She was kind of getting sick of the whole nature-girl shtick her heaven was made up off.

Every once and a while, some crazy mullet man would flash through her heaven, grin at her lecherously and then mutter something about a cold one at the Roadhouse and poof away. Cassie just shrugged it off, but sometimes, she really just wanted to go with and partake of the beer like a normal, not-dead, rebellious teenager.

Cassie - mid-wish for the beer once again - jerked upright and turned to face the blindingly bright creature leaning beside her. Cassie blinked at the tears forming in her eyes.

“You’re breaking a helluva lot of rules, Castiel,” Cassie murmured.

The angel Castiel’s reply did not come in the form of words the normal human mind could process, but Cassie - being both dead and gifted - had no problem with understanding him. She brushed the pine needles from her clothes - a simple white beater, tight black jeans with a few holes in them, scruffy tennis shoes and the baggy black hoodie, and pushed to her feet. Castiel grasped her forearm and hand, making her flesh and blood once more.

With a bright flash of white light, Cassie was dragged from heaven. The sixteen-going-on-seventeen year-old seer hit the pavement hard, her knees buckling beneath her. She drew in a breath of harsh, icy air into long-inactive lungs and let her palms hit the asphalt.

Memories not her own flooded her mind. Cassie Newton had died in 2002, nearly seventeen. She was still nearly seventeen almost seven years later. Three more were being brought back: And one of them was not going to be very happy about it. She pushed herself shakily to her feet and wobbled out of the road, collapsing from the effort on the cold, hard grass beneath her.

The moon hung full above her head and a group of mini-slayers, watchers and Faith were returning from their nightly hunt of the Cleveland Hellmouth. She would be safe with little sister, just for a little while. Castiel had brought her back for a reason, and she was determined to be useful.
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