Disclaimer: I don’t own Buffy or Supernatural. Buffy and related characters belong to Whedon. Supernatural and related characters belong to Kripke.
Angels were supposed to be nice, supposed to help those in need. But Dawn knew that she should have known better. After all, a certain Angel
had caused her sister a whole lot of trouble in the past.
But, according to this accountant in the trenchcoat, he was the real deal. “An angel of the Lord,” as he put it. He sure wasn’t acting like it. Somehow, Dawn had never imagined that the kidnapping and forceful restraint of innocent young women—herself, in particular—was in the job description.
Dawn struggled against her restraints, hopping around as she watched the angel—who had yet to give her a name or anything, so apparently politeness wasn’t high on an angel’s hit list either—pull a stone bowl and dagger from within his coat. He turned to her, a shock of bright blue eyes staring at her, and cocked his head ever so slightly to the right.
“I didn’t know the monks had hidden it in a human vessel,” he said, his voice deep, gravelly, and even.
“I didn’t do anything,” Dawn said, pursing her lips. “And I don’t think you should be doing this. I mean, won’t God be pissed?”
Of course, the only proof he had offered up to her was a flash of lightning, revealing the large shadows of wings on the wall. As a slayer’s sister, she should have known to ask for more. But, as Buffy’s
sister, Dawn figured that this situation, simply as it appeared, would be about her luck. Only girl in the world to be kidnapped and God-knows-what by an angel. Because Dawn didn’t know what his plan was, but daggers were never a good sign.
The angel put his back to her, but somehow, Dawn knew his eyes were turned toward the ceiling of the drab, dirty warehouse.
“I don’t know if my Father can even hear us. That’s what I intend to find out.”
He turned around once more, his dagger held at about where her neck was. Dawn put her feet to the floor, trying her best to push her chair away from him. The back two legs of the chair caught on something, pitching her backwards. Her head smacked the ground and dazed her, but she shook it off.
Great. A concussion was not what she needed to go along with that nice and pointy blade.
“What do you want? If you hurt me, my sister will kill you!”
Could angels even die? Dawn figured so. After all, she’d seen Buffy kill a lot of quote, unquote “indestructible” things.
The angel raised a brow. “Your sister? How is that possible? The Key is nothing more than a ball of interdimensional energy.”
Dawn blinked, staring up at him and his—under other circumstances—somewhat hilarious confused-face.
“How do you know what I am? Who are you?”
“Castiel,” he said, offering nothing else.
“You’re wasting your time, Mr. Castiel. I c-can’t be used anymore. You missed your window. And besides, Glory learned the hard way what happens when you piss off Buffy.”
“What’s a Buffy?”
Dawn let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head.
“My sister. The slayer.”
He nodded once, as if some great revelation had just been revealed.
“Protection. That’s why you are in this form. Those monks were wise men, indeed.”
He knelt down, holding the dagger to her throat.
“I’m sorry… Key. I wish that I could promise this to be painless. But more lives are at stake in the dimension I came from.
I fear the Winchesters are not enough alone. God must intervene.”
“My name is Dawn,” she growled, wiggling in her chair again.
Her head was starting to hurt, and she was starting to feel a little out of it. But if she wasn’t imagining things, his dagger-wielding hand faltered.
“They named you?”
“My mother did.”
“You have no mother.”
That was the last straw. Tears rolling off her cheeks, she screamed at him.
“Yes, I do! Her name was Joyce Summers! My father’s name is Hank, and my sister’s name is Buffy! I have friends and other loved ones! Giles, Willow, Xander, Andrew, Spike, Vi—”
He blinked at her, doing that head-cock again. He pulled the dagger away.
“I am truly sorry. But the Key is the only way I have into Heaven… the only way I have to find God.”
Dawn shook her head. “I don’t understand. Why can’t you just go home?”
“I rebelled. I sided with the Winchesters, sided with free will, against my brothers and sisters. I was cast out.”
“And what? Now you’re going to kill me to get back in? Yeah, God’s gonna be real happy with that!”
Dawn was starting to feel really woozy, close to losing consciousness. Questions circled her foggy mind, and she was trying her best to make sense of the situation. Who were these Winchesters Castiel kept talking about? And had he said that he was from another dimension?
“I don’t know what my Father wants anymore.”
“Please, don’t kill me,” Dawn whispered, her vision steadily getting more and more black.
Castiel’s eyes widened, as if he suddenly saw her for the very first time. Standing, he pulled her right-side up. Sighing heavily, he shook his head.
“But Dean would not be pleased with this course of action.”
Dawn didn’t see where he put the dagger, but it was gone from his hands. And her throat wasn’t slashed. She considered that a win, and she was overcome with the sudden need to thank whoever this Dean person was.
Castiel placed a single finger to her temple, and Dawn felt the pain and fogginess lift. She felt perfectly fine as she stared up in confusion at the Angel of Trenchcoats.
“You’re… gonna let me go?”
Castiel bent, presumably about to untie her, when a loud crash
interrupted him. He turned, and Dawn grinned as the silhouette of Buffy stood in doorway.
“You’re gonna want to back up off my sister. Now
“You would fight me for her? Die for her? Even though she is nothing but a... facsimile of a human.”
Buffy raised an eyebrow. “She’s my sister.”
Castiel smiled, just the merest hint of one.
“It’s good to see that such loyalties exists in both these worlds.”
He turned to Dawn, unconcerned that Buffy was ready to tear him a new one.
“The monks built you well.”
A fluttering of some unseen wings later, and he was gone. Buffy lost no time in running over to untie Dawn, who shook her head.
“What was that?” Buffy asked.
“Who kidnaps young girls? I call BS.”
Dawn laughed. “You know what… I think he was. But you want to know what else? I think whatever it is going on wherever he’s from… it apparently rides a lot on some Winchesters.”
Buffy shook her head.
“Guns never work.”
Dawn didn’t bother to clarify, allowing her sister to lead her from the building. Tonight, before she said any prayers, she was going to really think twice on her stance on angels.
Disclaimer: I don't own the images used above. Made in GIMP.