Thread: Clerical Error [lexibellexMim]

Gaius, what are you doing here? I had to see you. But we could be caught! You'd probably be killed! Moriana was wide-eyed and looked worried. She knew that it wouldn't matter much if Gaius was killed Castiel would live on, and he would still love her. She knew what he was and knew that this was just his host body. But she happened to like his host body. Besides, there was no telling what would happen to her if they were caught, either. After all, high priestess and a Roman soldier? Not a good look. Castiel took her face in both hands, making her look up at him. It doesn't matter, he said quietly. I will always come back to you. I promise. Every time their lips touched she swore she felt a literal spark between them. Let her go! Moriana! There was agony in Castiel's shriek as he was held back by his fellow soldiers. His commanding officer stood on the raised platform, watching the last of his men clean himself up. Moriana lay, bruised and broken, used and bloodied, unable to scream anymore. She had looked at him the entire time, wondering why he couldn't--or wouldn't--help her, why he himself was so helpless. Her hero...her love...In that moment Castiel wished he could die if only to escape the shame of having disappointed her, let her down, and knowing that she too would die soon. Heaven had places for soulmates, and though whatever Cherubim had struck them would certainly be punished for a long, long time for it there was no denying that was what they were. Let the dogs have what's left. The commander waved his hand lazily. Nooooo! Nora frowned though she kept her eyes closed. It was a recurring dream she'd had for years. It was always just so frustrating because she could never see Gaius's face it was always just a bright, shining light. Maybe because he was supposed to be an angel? Who knew? She hadn't had the dream in months and had thought it had finally gone away she hated it. It always started out so wonderful then ended...well, like that. It wasn't the dream that had woken her up though. Nora kept her eyes closed but could hear footsteps throughout the house. They weren't Uncle Bobby's. He was out in town for the day anyway, but even if she'd expected him home by dark she knew what his stomping boots sounded like and these steps were lighter, longer, belonging to someone taller. Opening her eyes she slowly reached under the couch where she'd been napping and pulled out a shotgun. Stepping lightly she headed off the strangers--for there were multiple sets of feet--on their way to the kitchen by taking the other door. How about you tell me what the hell you're doin' in my house before I blast your face off? The footsteps stopped just the other side of the door. Nora leaned against the wall, tense and ready to shoot, when a hand poked out. It was followed closely by Dean Winchester's face. Don't shoot! We come in peace. Nora felt the tension leave her shoulders and she lowered the gun. Dammit Dean! Ever hear of knocking? She smiled, though, and stepped forward to pull him into a tight hug before pulling Sam into an embrace as well. Nora Singer had spent every summer at her Uncle Bobby's since she could remember. Her mother had refused to become a hunter when Nora's father had been possessed then murdered, but free child care during the summer while she worked was always a blessing. Just as the Winchester boys had grown up similarly calling him Uncle Bobby, Nora was as much as their cousin. They'd played and raised hell together throughout their childhood, but there was no sense in not taking precautions. Thanks for that. Dean wiped the holy water from his face as Nora screwed the cap back onto the flask before tucking it away again. Caution never killed, she quipped before turning on her heel. Uncle Bobby's got some sorta business down in town today. Come on through I'll make a pie while you start digging through the books. What is it you need?