The Winchester Gospels

An Angel?

Had that really been what he said?

Impossible, Parker thought, I’m dreaming.

The man could blind people with light and transport them to another location. If he wasn’t an Angel, he was certainly something.

Parker gaped up at the angel, “Wha—An Angel?”

Castiel didn’t bother responding. “I was sent here to return you to Heaven.”

Parker picked herself off the ground, brushing off dust that had stuck to her jeans.

“You’re insane.” She mumbled, “Is this some kind of joke?” She squinted at the man, “I’m dreaming, aren’t I?” She decided that made the most sense, “The visions had stopped. This is all a dream. Dean isn’t real.”

“Dean Winchester is very real.” Castiel corrected. “But, he is not your problem.”

“He’s real?” Parker’s eyes widened.

“Yes,” Castiel nodded, “But, Dean—”

“How can he not be my problem? Is he really going to die?” Parker questioned. This man seemed to have all the answers.

“Yes,” The answer was so emotionless that Parker was unsure how to respond.

“And you don’t care?” She grimaced in disgust. “What kind of Angel are you?”

“I am an Angel of the Lord.” He repeated, “Saving Dean Winchester is not your battle. God gave you the ability to foresee events that concerned Bela Talbot. You need not worry about Dean.”

“Bela Talbot?” Parker run a shaky hand through her hair, “That was the British woman’s name?”

Castiel nodded, “Her story is over. You must return to Heaven with me. It is God’s will.”

Parker shook her head, “This—This is too much.” She felt nauseas. They were in the middle of field with nothing for her to lean on or hide behind. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

Castiel stared at the human prophet, sizing her up. He had never dealt with one before. This wasn’t going exactly as planned. Parker wasn’t as faithful and conforming as Jimmy Novak. He had hit a road block in his seemingly perfect plan.

“You, Parker Forest, are a prophet of God. You are a mouthpiece—a conduit for the inspired word.” He explained as the girl looked at Castiel in confusion and awe.

“A prophet?” She murmured, “You’re kidding me.”

“I am not…kidding you.” Castiel replied uncertainly.

“Okay,” Parker swallowed the excess salvia, trying to comprehend this all, “I’m a prophet.” She peered up at Castiel, “What now?”

“I must return you to Heaven.” He told her again, feeling his patience waiver.

But, Castiel had to be understanding. Those were his orders. Apparently, for some, it wasn’t as easy to comprehend their destiny, their fate.

Castiel’s superior, Zachariah, had told him to take as long as Parker needed. That she might not believe him at first. Speaking with a prophet for an angel of Castiel’s ranking was an honor. He was told to treat it as such.

“But, Dean,” Parker said, “We have to save him!”

Castiel looked at the small prophet, not understanding this logic. “Have you witnessed his demise?”

Parker nodded fervently.

“Once a prophet has seen it, it shall come to pass.” Castiel uttered one of the many phrases that were burned into his mind. “You cannot save Dean Winchester.”

Parker wasn’t having it. She was a prophet. She could save Dean Winchester.

“You’re wrong.” She said plainly, crossing her arms as if to emphasize her point, “It hasn’t happened yet, has it?” She asked as an afterthought.

Castiel glanced up at the Heavens, “Not yet. It will happen soon, though.”

“Soon?” Parker cried, “How soon?”

“Tonight.” He answered, “In approximately seven minutes.”

“Seven minutes?” Parker felt her hope slipping away, “New Harmony is, like, two days away! We’ll never make it!”

Castiel replied, “My mission is to return you to Heaven, not New Harmony.”

Parker wetted her lips, “I heard you the first time. We’re just going to have to take a little pit stop before Heaven.” She promised.

Castiel didn’t want to listen to the prophet, but they were in his orders. As long as she promised to return to Heaven, he would do what she wanted.

“Do we have a deal?” Parker begged, “You help me save Dean and I’ll go with you to Heaven.”

Castiel didn’t have to think about it. He understood his orders clearly. “If this is the prophet’s last request, then it shall be done.”

“Right,” Parker put out her hand for him to shake.

Castiel eyed it apprehensively, unsure what she intended him to do with her appendage.

“You’re supposed to shake it.” She informed him, fighting a smile, “To seal the deal.”

“This is much better than the Crossroad Demon way.” Castiel commented, placing his hand in Parker’s.

Parker gave the Angel a strange look, unsure of what he was talking about.

But, she didn’t have time to ask him further questions. Time was running out. “Now, zap us to New Harmony before it’s too late!” Parker pleaded.

Castiel nodded, placing the hand he had previously shaken on her shoulder, “To New Harmony.”

And—in and instant—they were gone.

Eerie silence was all that was left in their place.

It was as if an Angel and a prophet had never occupied the field at all.