Chapter Text
May 2011
Castiel
He finished tying off the corded yarn pieces in a pattern he had watched a small girl do in the park with her sister’s hair. One piece over another, over another, and then its partner wove within. Copper yarn, over freckled yarn, over blue. Again he repeated the pattern until the small woven band was finished. The fibers were soft and delicate, silken but wound together tightly so as not to break. Like his nerves currently, frayed but bound in fear of losing everything.
He used his teeth to tighten the knot against his wrist and looked down at the little material trinket he’d woven together all by himself.
How human of me. His internal thoughts groaned. But, at the time, he had been compelled to grab the yarn. Find something to keep his mind occupied on anything other than war, or violence, or anger, or rage, or damned all.
He had to do whatever he could to keep from damning all.
The sun was setting and while he sat on his bench looking at the families in rapture over flowers that sprung up from the Earth on their walk, at children that grinned at ducklings following mothers on the edge of a pond, he ran a thumb over that little braid on his wrist.
“You know,” crooned a thickly accented voice that soured his mood. “The Mormons say that this place is where the garden of Eden was.”
“Crowley.” He hissed between clenched teeth as he continued looking out at the park.
“Why God would place Eden in the hell hole that is Missouri, is an interesting concept. I imagine the tree of truth and knowledge was somewhere between the Cheesecake Factory and the Bass Proshop.” The demon sat down next to the angel and they looked over the expanse of spring renewed Earth before them.
“What did you want to meet me here for?” The muscles in Castiel’s back spasmed where his wings should have flared.
“You and I have an acquaintance that resides just around the corner from this very park. The problem is, I cannot go into her residence.” Crowley started. “She has something in her basement locked away for safe keeping that I would very much like to purchase.”
Castiel’s thumb stilled on the braided cord around his wrist and he pulled it away slowly. “How do you know Lila Connor?”
“Ah, so you know exactly who I’m speaking of. Perfect.” Crowley collapsed his hands into his lap as he gave a little boy on a scooter that zoomed past the sidewalk a smile and winked at the mother who in turn flushed and continued on her walk.
“I know very little of Lila. She sells things to hunters. That’s it.” He lied.
He knew quite some bit about Lila, more than he was willing to admit to anyone.
After his interaction with her he had convinced himself that it was in everyone’s best interest to make sure that Lila Connor had been taking correct measures to protect herself. For Bobby's sake of course. Definitely not because he was worried about her personally. After all she sold merchandise that hunters needed to keep humanity safe, that was rare to find and vital to their mission. To his duties. So if anything, she was an intricate part of his angelic contribution to keeping humanity well. He had convinced himself that God had arranged this all so that he could keep a careful eye on her. Yes. That was it. God wanted his son to keep this human girl safe.
He had snuck back into her shop and found that under the rugs she had a very well executed devil’s trap, though some of the markings needed touching up. So, he found a paint jar and did that for her. Also, after carefully inspecting the walls he noticed a dripping mark from behind one of the strategically placed tapestries and after removing the artwork, there were the sigils he had been looking for. However, one was backwards, and that wouldn’t do. Whatever hunter put this up for her wasn’t Bobby, and was clearly incapable of keeping her safe. That had enraged the angel. It was an accident, surely, but one that could have cost Lila everything. So he cleaned the paint marking and corrected it himself. Waited for the paint to dry, and then replaced the tapestry. On top of the additional sigils that he placed under shelves and his own blood angel wardings that could be activated if need be.
Two nights after that when he came to check again on the shop there she was, sitting on the counter waiting for him.
“Hello Castiel.” She had said low and dark with a pistol pointed at his chest.
“This isn’t what it looks like.” He had murmured back with his hands directed to the ceiling.
“I don’t know what this is. But, my camera feed made it seem as if you were tampering with my security systems.” She motioned to the floor under the rugs and he quickly shook his head no.
“I was fixing your sigils, I was trying to be helpful. Whoever put them up, they were wrong.”
“That wouldn’t surprise me,” she muttered and set the gun on the counter. “Paul was a fuck up all the time.”
“Paul?” Castiel felt something twist inside him that was completely unnerving. Who was this Paul that was very inadequate in this woman’s life? I should kill Paul. No. That is how demons thought. I need to stop.
“Mmhm,” she moved from off of the counter and waved for him to put his hands back down. “Paul is, was, I don’t know if he’s even around still. Honestly probably slept his way into a vamp nest and uh sorry. Hunter. Paul is a hunter, like you.” Her face looked disgusted as she flipped the light on a nearby table casting a soft glow in the room. Finally he could see her clearly. In the space. See her in the space. Clearly.
“Paul is not like me.” Castiel corrected as he narrowed his eyes on her, watching every small movement she made.
“No?” She paused and raised her brow.
“No.” Castiel wouldn’t have left this woman with inadequate sigils. He wouldn’t have made it so easy for someone to sneak into her residence unprotected while she was alone and unguarded. His eyes slid to the gun, clearly not too unguarded. But still.
“Well, what are you doing here Castiel?” She leaned against the counter, still careful to keep the gun at arms length. A gun that wouldn’t do much harm to him but she didn't need to know that.
“I was concerned.”
She had only blinked and then a look crossed her face that made his heart ache, because he had seen it on the Winchesters before. Confusion at the idea of someone caring for her without exchange or monetary value added to it.
“Did Bobby put you up to this?” Her voice wavered and he gave a small shake of his head. He wasn’t sure if he should feel more ashamed for caring about the safety of this woman he hardly knew, or at the thrill that he was the only person who seemed to. Either way, he had convinced himself that he was going to keep doing it.
He had left that night after checking the warnings properly and seeing that she locked the door behind her. There he stood though, watching as every light in the apartment above the shop turned off and the inhabitant inside was asleep.
None that Crowley needed to be aware of, but his eyes shifted to the demon and he asked, “how do you know that I know Lila?”
“One of my demons was killed outside of her shop last week by an angel.” Crowley smirked. “Now, I know you lot love intermingling with humans, but I thought to myself, ‘what is so special about a girl who sells macrame and werewolf pelts?’ Then I did a little digging and found that she’s friends with your Mr. Singer. Who in relation, is also friends with your Winchesters. Ah,” he snapped and his smirk grew into a full-fledged grin. “What angel is wasting his time playing guard dog to a woman in St. Joseph, Missouri when he is losing a war in Heaven?”
“I’m not losing, I’m at a stalemate.” He scoffed, disregarding the actual question at hand.
Castiel had been outside behind the shop, in the alley, waiting at near midnight when she would turn off her light like clockwork and he could retreat back to Heaven with his mind at ease that one thing in his life was going well. That Lila was safe from the world around her. But then instead, she came out in this ridiculous pair of pajamas with a trash bag in hand and headphones on taking the refuse out to the can. He had ducked away into the shadows, eyes wide in fear of being spotted once again. Bobby didn’t exactly trust Castiel currently, and didn’t need to be called up by his niece crying that the angel was watching her from the shadows.
Her headphones were in and she was mouthing along to the words as a man approached her from the opposite end of the alley. She hadn’t even seen the man with his glowing red eyes and Castiel swiftly pulled him from the darkness and banished him on the spot with a vengeance that filled something primitive and wonderful in his veins. A feeling of righteousness as grace exulted the demon back to hell and purred in the angel’s ear that he had done a good job. It was only from the corner of his sight that he saw the second demon run away when he knew it was too late to catch up. It was kill the other, or watch Lila and he knew what was more important to him. The woman, who was unaware any of it had happened just as the light above went out and she was snuggled tight in her bed. Safe.
“Now,” Crowley tutted, “I’m not going to ask you why you’re stalking women outside of their apartments. I have a fleet of demons who do that as a hobby and although it's not my preference for a good time, who am I to judge? No. I am simply asking that you go into the shop, and convince Ms. Connor to give you the powdered hippogriff talon she has.”
“Why?” There was no question of if he would do it, he would so that Crowley didn’t mention his blunder to Dean and Sam. He just didn’t understand what the demon would need it for.
“Oh, yes. About that, you and I should have a little talk about the souls in purgatory.” Crowley chuckled and stood motioning for Castiel to follow.