The Fire Within a Human Burns Brighter Than All of Hell

Deana gets back into the swing of things within the next week, hunting with Sam, spending their free time with her and Cas...doing human things. Though it feels right for her to help people, destroy evil, though it feels NATURAL, as it always has, with every hunt and every case, Deana feels odd...GUILTY. Only a week ago she was torturing and killing people, helping the demon king make deals. She was even beginning to assist him at meetings and in dealings with other demons. So it makes sense that Deana would feel like two different people at times. She doesn't admit that anything is wrong, but she can tell that Cas knows.... The way he looks at her sometimes, it's obvious. She wonders if he'll ever mention it...if he has mentioned it, to Sam. But he wouldn't do that, would he? He wouldn't talk behind her back.... Deana looks up at the angel, from where he stands a few meters away, as she salts and burns the remains of a ghost. He's looking at her in that way now, with those serious eyes that penetrate her soul. 'He doesn't trust me.' One thing Crowley taught her, one thing out of many, is that if you must trust someone--which he never did--to never pick someone who doesn't trust you. The ex-demon and the angel stare at eachother for a moment before Sam runs up and claps her big sister on the back.

"Let's go get some pizza!" the young Winchester declares, and Deana gives a small smile, still looking at Castiel.

"Yeah, okay, Sammy. Pizza it is." She follows her back to the Impala.

***

After dinner, when Sam goes to bed, Deana looks at Castiel and says, "Cas? Can I have a word?"

"Of course, Deana." He is standing, but he immediately drops to a seat across from hers.

"You know you're my best friend, Cas."

"Yes, Deana, of course."

"And I really care about you."

"Yes, likewise."

"But there's one problem."

He swallows, and appears to be trying to mask his nervousness. "What's that, Deana?" he asks warily.

"I know you don't trust me anymore, Cas."

His eyes flick downward, then back up to her face. "I don't, not fully."

"That's a real shame." When he doesn't respond, she leans forward, clasping her hands, with elbows on her spread knees. "I'm CURED, Cas. But even when I WAS a demon, I still cared about Sam and you. I never DID hurt you, I never WANTED to hurt you, and I never WOULD have hurt you. Demons care about things too, Cas." Deana watches him twitch and shift with guilt as she holds his eyes sharply with her own. "Maybe not in the same way humans do, but angels are like that as well, aren't they. Angels are supposed to be tools of the lord, but here you are, with us. You love us. So maybe you, of ALL people, should be more trusting, more EMPATHETIC."

Castiel looks down for a moment, pursing his lips. When he looks back up with shame-filled eyes, her heart clenches. "You're right, Deana. I'm sorry. Thank you for talking to me."

She smiles warmly, her heart skipping. "Of course, Cas. You're my best friend and I love you. I just wish you would have talked to me about your feelings."

He nods. "I know I should have. I love you as well."

The two stand and embrace with such relief, and when they pull back, he is smiling. They say goodnight and she goes to bed, feeling better about everything. Deana is no fool--she won't believe that everything is sunshine and rainbows, because when is it ever?--but things are getting better, and that's all she can really hope for: gradual progress. Baby steps. She falls asleep in a good mood for the first time this week.

***

It has taken everything within Crowley to hold himself together since his love was taken from him. Nights watching her through windows has been a sort of a balm to his shredded heart. He watches her now, sees her fall asleep with a smile on her face for the first time since her humanity was restored. Seeing her cry herself to sleep the other nights was both torturous as well as soothing for him--it means that she is not happy without him...or at least that is what Crowley chooses to believe. In all honesty, the main source of her pain is surely caused by the memories of the evil she committed after he awakened her as a demon. But maybe, just maybe, AT LEAST A FEW of those tears are for him. If Crowley weren't a demon, he would PRAY for that to be true...for Deana to still feel for him what she did before.

***

Deana wakes and stretches, effectively blocking out the memory of last night's dreams. She's getting better at that, having had them every night since her humanity was restored. She gets up and walks to her window to look outside, and something catches her eye on the sill. A rose. A perfect red rose rests there inside the room. How did someone open the window? It's locked.... Her heart clenches painfully as she realizes who the flower is from. She picks it up and accidentally pricks her finger. "Yep..." she sighs. "Only HE would leave the thorns on a rose." This should upset her, that he left the flower in a way that could shed her blood...but it doesn't. It warms her heart, brings a smile to her face. They loved blood, the both of them.... Her smile disappears and she sinks to her knees on the floor. Sobs wrack her curled up body, as her forehead presses to the floor. She allows the thorns to cut into her hands, the blood to run and drip onto her knees. She wants desperately to speak his name...just once, and he would be here with her, comforting her, making her whole again.... Yes. She would be whole again. He is the piece of her that's been missing. Deana has felt the absence of that piece this whole time, as clearly as she feels her hands and her feet, her heart and her gut. But Deana won't call to him. She can't. That part of her is in the past. Oh, but how she craves for the past...craves it so desperately, the desire knocks the wind from her. Deana remains on the floor for who the hell knows how long, until her sister knocks on the door, calling her out for breakfast, and she has to be normal Deana once again: sister, friend, hunter, and human.