Title: Perceptions of Truth
Rating: FR 18
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters featured here. They belong to their respective creators and production companies.
Distribution: NeverNormal.com and TtH
Series: Alissa's Interests #9
Spoilers: During Season7 of Supernatural
Summary: The Winchesters look for some help finding Eve
Alissa was in Atlanta for a meeting on her new Thailand venture, on her way back to her hotel, when she got the phone call. “MacKenzie. How can I help you?” she asked, not recognizing the number.
“Uh, Alissa MacKenzie? This is Dean- Dean Winchester. We found your name in our Dad's journal with a note that said, if we really needed help and all other avenues weren't working, that we should give you a call.”
Alissa thought back on the conflicting memories of both a happy, cheerful family man and a bitter, angry hunter who was drunk more oftentimes she saw him than not. “Yes, I remember John. I heard about his death, as well- I'm sorry.”
It had been five years, but Dean still got a lump in his throat sometimes when he thought about his father's sacrifice. “Yeah, uh, thanks. See, we need your help finding someone that people are calling the Mother of all the alpha monsters out there,” he explained, only to have her curse vehemently and rather creatively from her end.
Taking a deep breath, though she still paced back and forth to work off some of the anger, she asked “Where are you boys at right now?”
“We're in Savannah,” he told her, looking over at Sam, hard away at his research.
“Good- I'm in Atlanta and can be there in a couple hours. Where are you staying at?”
The brothers had just finished dinner when there was a knock on the door. Pulling it open, Sam glanced at the brunette in the doorway who, from the looks of things, couldn't be much older than himself. “Yes?”
“Sam Winchester- you've grown a bit since I saw you last,” she told him, glancing up and down his length for a moment before she walked in over the line of salt in the doorway. “But, not all your growing up has been all that pretty, huh?” she continued, staring at him as if she could see into his soul.
She turned towards where Dean sat on one of the twin beds as Sam closed the door behind her. Dean's eyes widened as he took her in. “I remember you now- you used to visit us back right after Mom died, when we were staying with Missouri. But you look the same now as you did then- what gives?”
Alissa smirked. “Good genes,” she joked, snapping her fingers and suddenly looking a good ten/fifteen years older. “And a very good glamour spell,” she elaborated before snapping her fingers again and resuming her youthful appearance.
“No, it would be more like having a longer lifespan than a typical human,” a deep voice spoke from in front of them.
Dean glanced over at Alissa. “Uh, relax. This is just-” but Alissa beat him to it.
“Castiel!” she hissed, crossing the distance between where she stood by the doorway to where Cas stood between Dean's bed and the bathroom in two strides, hauling back and decking the angel so hard his head hit the wall behind him and he slid down into a seated position on the floor.
Castiel glanced up at her furious stance. “You BASTARD! You were supposed to protect
me! I was a Prophet- what good is an angel if they don't protect the prophets?” she half screamed, half sobbed.
“Your duty as a Prophet was finished- you had already been given your portion of the Codex to write down,” he told her simply as the Winchesters stared at both of them.
“I was DONE?!? I had been both a Vessel for His Word and a Slayer. Don't fucking tell me my work was fucking DONE, Castiel! I have done NOTHING but try to help His Chosen however I can, since I woke up in Jerusalem, dirty and blood stained with no Slayer Call nor His Voice in my ear. Do you know what that felt like? To feel like you had nothing more to give?”
Castiel had managed to stand up and collapse onto the edge of the nearest bed, cradling his jaw. “Your job was not done at that point- merely molded to be more of a helpmeet for the other Slayers then that of a Prophet of the Lord. That, and you did
manage to get the Codex to the Slayer and her Watcher in Sunnydale when it was required,” he pointed out while Alissa continued to glare at him.
Dean marveled at the difference in Alissa from when he'd seen her show up, rather unassuming in a basic tee shirt and jeans. Then Cas had popped in, and she'd turned into an Avenging Angel of sorts, fierce and full of fire and, if he was honest with himself, arousing and he was having a hard time shifting things around to be a little less obvious. Then he glanced over to see Cas still massaging his jaw around a purpling bruise.
“Uh, Cas, shouldn't angel healing be taking care of that by now?” he asked, confused.
Castiel cracked his neck and glanced up at him and Sam. “If she had not done so in righteous anger, as well as having the strength of a former Slayer behind it, no, I would not have bruised. But due to those reasons, my vessel will have to heal at a human rate for now.”
“So, you two have been talking about Slayers a bit, so what's a Slayer?” Sam asked, taking a seat by the table.
Alissa took a deep breath as she walked over and sat on the opposite bed from Dean and Castiel. “A Slayer is a mystical warrior, sent by the Powers That Be- you could call them Castiel's cousins, of a sort- to battle the forces of evil. One girl in all the world to battle the vampires, demons and other assorted nasties. Or, it used to be just one, but then a witch friend of the latest Slayer Called all the Potentials at once, so now there's dozens more girls running around the world with super strength,” she explained.
“That doesn't make any sense,” Sam protested. “Girls sent to battle creatures that can only be killed by beheading or Dead Man's blood? Not to mention what chants you have to use to banish a demon,” he continued, but Alissa had started shaking her head and chuckling before he was halfway through his protest.
“No, no, honey. You think those vamps you've been finding were the original deal? Uh uh. The true vampires were created when the last full demon to walk the Earth exchanged blood with a human, making the first vampire. The ones you've been running into in your little towns are the kind made by Kakistos, a very old Greek vampire, with the Mother you're looking for, and made a harder to kill vampire, since the beginnings of what would be the Watcher's Council had already created the Slayer by that point in time. Why have you only seen one kind, though? Because the more prevalent, older kind of vamp is smart enough to prefer big cities, cuz you kill too many people in small towns and others tend to notice,” she summarized, saluting the boys with the beer Sam had handed her.
“So, before Angel Boy showed up, you gents were going to tell me what you needed my help for,” she prompted.