Speaking for the Dead - Pt 8
Speaking for the Dead: Part Eight
Some months later...
Dean was sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table with Sage, going over one of the lesson plans Sam had signed them up for. They were matching words with their corresponding pictures as they worked their way through the alphabet.
It had actually been a lot harder to sign Sage up for home schooling than Dean had thought. The school board they'd gone through had made them jump through burning hoops and do an obstacle course blindfolded, until Sam had finally had enough.
Dean would have kept jumping through hoops, but Sam had put his foot down and demanded to know why the school was pussy footing around. They'd gotten the forms they'd needed the next day.
They were in upstate New York, catching the tail end of summer while dealing with a nasty poltergeist when Castiel suddenly appeared in the room.
Dean looked up when Sage gasped in surprise.
Seeing the angel standing there with his head tilted to one side wasn't something Dean had been expecting to ever see again.
"What are you doing here?" Dean asked, pushing himself to his feet.
Castiel drew his gaze from the table where they'd been working to look up at Dean. "We require your assistance. Another Seal will be broken a few miles from here."
Dean blinked at the other man. He'd been pretty sure God and the angels were done with him after what had happened with Clayton Reynolds. They hadn't heard so much as a whisper from them after they'd taken care of the Rawhead.
"Was pretty sure I was done with you," Dean responded. He felt Sage wrap her little arms around his calf and press her face into his leg. "Haven't heard much out of you since we dealt with the Rawhead."
"Why would you believe that?" Castiel asked.
"Oh, I don't know," Dean answered, waving his hand a little in the air. "Maybe because I'm the new poster boy for the 'I see dead people' line?"
Castiel tilted his head to one side, the slight wrinkle of his forehead the only thing to tell Dean he was confused. "It was always a possibility that our interference may have left you with a psychic gift," he told Dean. "Why would you believe that would make God turn from you?"
"Dude, I'm a necromancer," Dean stressed as though it were obvious.
"You speak for the dead, Dean," Castiel said. "Who else would we ask to save the living?"
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PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE || PART FOUR || PART FIVE || PART SIX || PART SEVEN || PART EIGHT ||
NOTES & THANKS
Some months later...
Dean was sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table with Sage, going over one of the lesson plans Sam had signed them up for. They were matching words with their corresponding pictures as they worked their way through the alphabet.
It had actually been a lot harder to sign Sage up for home schooling than Dean had thought. The school board they'd gone through had made them jump through burning hoops and do an obstacle course blindfolded, until Sam had finally had enough.
Dean would have kept jumping through hoops, but Sam had put his foot down and demanded to know why the school was pussy footing around. They'd gotten the forms they'd needed the next day.
They were in upstate New York, catching the tail end of summer while dealing with a nasty poltergeist when Castiel suddenly appeared in the room.
Dean looked up when Sage gasped in surprise.
Seeing the angel standing there with his head tilted to one side wasn't something Dean had been expecting to ever see again.
"What are you doing here?" Dean asked, pushing himself to his feet.
Castiel drew his gaze from the table where they'd been working to look up at Dean. "We require your assistance. Another Seal will be broken a few miles from here."
Dean blinked at the other man. He'd been pretty sure God and the angels were done with him after what had happened with Clayton Reynolds. They hadn't heard so much as a whisper from them after they'd taken care of the Rawhead.
"Was pretty sure I was done with you," Dean responded. He felt Sage wrap her little arms around his calf and press her face into his leg. "Haven't heard much out of you since we dealt with the Rawhead."
"Why would you believe that?" Castiel asked.
"Oh, I don't know," Dean answered, waving his hand a little in the air. "Maybe because I'm the new poster boy for the 'I see dead people' line?"
Castiel tilted his head to one side, the slight wrinkle of his forehead the only thing to tell Dean he was confused. "It was always a possibility that our interference may have left you with a psychic gift," he told Dean. "Why would you believe that would make God turn from you?"
"Dude, I'm a necromancer," Dean stressed as though it were obvious.
"You speak for the dead, Dean," Castiel said. "Who else would we ask to save the living?"
+++++
PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE || PART FOUR || PART FIVE || PART SIX || PART SEVEN || PART EIGHT ||
NOTES & THANKS