I'll Tell You My Sins so You Can Sharpen Your Knife

Sarah woke up in the back of the car, curled under a wool blanket. Her hair was static and clinging to the leather seats. Her clothes reeked of blood. Feeling sick, she pushed open the door and puked onto the ground below her.

“Shit.” A voice said. Boots appeared and calloused hands gathered her hair and held it back. “Go on, Sarah. Let it out.”

Tears mixed with vomit as she heaved. She stayed in the position until she was sure nothing else would come up. She slowly pulled herself into a sitting position.

“Dean.” She whispered.

“Hey.” He said softly. “You okay?”

She shakily nodded.

“Let’s get you some air.”

He helped her out of the car and led her to a nearby picnic tavle. He handed her a bottle of water.

“Sam’s getting some food and clothes for you.” He looked her over. “What happened?”

She remembered the events of the past few days all too clearly. She had been minding her own business, like Castiel had asked before he had disappeared into the void. She had been using a simple spell, trying to see what was happening in the world.

The mirror showed her the horrible events at the Convent, Lucifer unleashed. But for the first time ever a voice came through. It told her that it would save Dean and Sam Winchester, that it would restore Castiel. But she would have to go to retrieve all of them, put them all on the right path.

And so she did it. She left the note and the car, and then went to retrieve Castiel from the place where he had died. But Castiel was gone. He had went to do whatever he thought he had to. And halfway through her drive back home an elderly man had appeared in her car.

In the present moment, she shook her head, trying to forget what happened after that.

“Angels.” She told Dean. “They came to me to get to Cass. And when Cass came he was…so terrifying. They cut me, Dean. How can angels do that?”

She looked so lost and vulnerable that Dean wondered if she had ever dealt with angels other than Castiel before. And Castiel was uncommonly partial to her. He knew how frightening Castiel was in a fight. That face that never showed emotion turned from stone to metal.

“The way I see it,” he finally said, “they’re all a little full of themselves.”

She gave a shaky laugh and dried her eyes. “Sorry. You must think I’m an idiot.”

“No. You’re the girl who knows things.” He paused and noticed she was fingering her necklace. “I saw your pendant.”

She looked at it and sighed. “Yeah. Cassie is my guardian angel.”

“How did that happen?”

“I was a greedy baby. When I was being baptized, my grandmother suggested it be done in the name of Castiel, Angel of Temperance.”

“That’s why he always heals you. Doesn’t let you hunt.”

She grimaced. “I’m the first person he’s been asked to watch over in centuries. He takes his job very seriously. I’ll be surprised if he lets me die of old age.” She smiled. “But I’m lucky enough to know my angel. That’s enough, right?”

He smiled back at her.

She drank more water and they sat in silence for a moment. Sam appeared outside the store, heading towards them.

“Hey, Sarah?”

“Hm?”

“How did you know?”

She knew exactly what he was asking her. She decided to leave out a few details.

“A voice.” She said quietly. “Someone told me what was happening and what I had to do.”

“Was it God?”

She sighed. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Cass has gone to look for him.”

“I know.” She sounded positively gloomy. “But I highly doubt that God wants to be found.”

Sam approached with a tie-dye sundress, foam flip flops, and a plastic bag of junk food. “Sorry. This was all they had.”

Sarah laughed, a light and incredible sound. “Whole damn world is ending, and gas stations are still only equipped with relics from the sixties. Dear God, all of humanity will have to be damned to hell.”

~*~

They all agreed that Sarah could not go back to her own house. Castiel had given her the same protection on her bones that he had given the brothers, but he had given it to her body, not her house. At least until things were sorted and they talked to Castiel, she could not go home. So after she had changed, the Winchesters took her directly to the closest thing they had to a safe house – Bobby’s.

They warned her. They told her he was a grumpy old man. They told her he was even more miserable now that he had lost the use of his legs. Sarah told them to swing by a grocery store and a liquor store, as well as a place she could buy a few outfits at. She downright refused any offers of flannel.

Bobby scowled at the brunette, who had her head in the trunk of the Impala. She was wearing clothes that suited her more – jeans and a dark blue sweater. She had also purchased a plaid wool poncho, which Sam teased her relentlessly about. And she countered every time by claiming it was a “wearable blanket”.

Bobby was still scowling. “Hired a babysitter, huh?”

“She’s here to help.” Dean responded.

“Same thing.”

Sarah freed a case of beer from the trunk. “You like Bud, Bobby?” she called.

“On occasion.”

“I’ll drink it then.”

She carried the case past the two men and went into the house.

“Keep an eye on her.” Dean muttered. “Cass trusts her. I barely know her.”

“And you brought her to my house?”

“Well, I couldn’t send her home. Angels are after her.”

“Idjit.”

“What?”

But Bobby was already wheeling after Sarah. “Don’t you dare touch my armchair, missy!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” Sarah shouted back. “Hey, you want some wings? I brought some groceries. I know how to do them from scratch.”

Bobby was flabbergasted. “Sure.”

“You like flats or drums?”

“Drums.”

“Well, aren’t we just a match made in heaven. I always liked flats better anyway.”

Sam smiled as he pulled Sarah’s other things from the car. Bobby was trying to be difficult, and Sarah was fighting back in her own way. Giving him what he claimed he wanted, but standing strong in her own way. Winning him over bit by bit.

Hell, she’d probably be able to take on Dean and win him too.

“What are you smirking at?” Dean snapped at his brother. “Get this shit in the house. We have to plan our next move.”

“Staying for dinner then?”

Dean’s face broke into a grin. “When’s the last time someone made us dinner from scratch, Sammy? She could be a demon and I’d probably keep her around for a week.”

You say that now. Sam thought glumly as he followed his brother into the house. God knows what she is. And you’re not the most understanding or forgiving type.