literature

Team Free WillxChild!Reader- Ragtag Family (6)

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Literature Text

When you finally woke up, Dean was sitting on the edge of your bed.

“Hey kiddo,” he whispered and stroked your (h/c) hair while you sniffled.

“You’re back,” you mumbled, and Dean smiled.

“I am. Now, what’s wrong?” He asked gently.

“What makes ya’ think something’s wrong?” You asked.

“When I came in to check on you when we got back, you were crying in your sleep.” Dean murmured.

“I had a nightmare,” you snuggled up against him, moving your head onto his lap while he continued to comfort you.

“Well, it’s okay. Because I can guarantee you, whatever happened in the nightmare wasn’t real. You know that we would never let anything happen to you.” You nodded and smiled.

“I know.” Dean grinned and ruffled your hair.

“C’mon. Lets go down to breakfast,” he smiled and you nodded, but opted to keep your head on his lap for a little while longer.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Crowley sighed in boredom as the demon in front of him prattled on about their current monthly soul intake and how they needed a new torture branch and more boring blah blah blah stuff. He sighed again and shifted in his seat, mindlessly fidgeting with the old skull that he held in his hands. Eventually he lost interest in that as well, tossing it over his shoulder where it landed somewhere with a clatter.

“Your majesty! A word,” Crowley eagerly sat up at the prospect of getting out of his monthly financial lecture.

“Off you go,” Crowley waved his hand and the demon in front of him (who was currently prattling on about contracts) disappeared. “Now, what is it?” He turned to the newcomer, smiling sweetly.

“We’ve gotten something out of the prisoner,” the newcomer breathed out, grinning while wiping his hands off on a bloodstained apron. Crowley smiled and stood up.

“Excellent,” he growled and snapped his fingers.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


“Amiel, what did you discover during your visit?”

“Nothing that we didn’t already know. Castiel has told _________ nothing about what has been discussed. He isn’t teaching her to awaken or control her powers, she is living the most normal life she can. Well… as normal a life you can get when you are what she is and being raised by hunters.” The angel replied, shrugging his shoulders. “ I see no reason to upgrade her surveillance status from its current level.”

“You should not underestimate Castiel’s cunningness.”

“Malachi, he was telling the truth. He would never do anything to endanger her, I really don’t think-“

“Amiel, give Darius orders to up her surveillance level.” Amiel bit his bottom lip and glared at the ground.

“Yes Malachi,” he spat out, than with a flutter of wings he was gone. Malachi sighed and allowed himself to relax back into his chair. His wings fluttered impatiently as he flexed his fingers, forcing his wings to still.

“I’m not cut out for a desk job,” he grumbled as he turned back to the papers that were piled neatly in front of him.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


A man was crouching weakly, held up only by the chains that were attached to his wrists. The cool metal bands decorated with enochian symbols that were strapped around his chest burned into him. His breath came in short, painful gasps, blood dripping from his mouth onto the smooth stone floor. He didn’t acknowledge the swirl of smoke that appeared in front of him, continuing to stare at the floor.

“Hello. I’ve heard that someone has been quite the chatty-kathy,” a deep voice with a British accent commented. The prisoner raised his eyes, his pale blue eyes drilling into Crowley’s dark olive green ones.

“What, cat got your tongue?” Crowley asked, and the prisoner let his gaze drop away. “Doesn’t matter. You’ve still said enough,” he hummed, looking around the damp cell.

“Leave... her alone...” the prisoner coughed out, managing to raise his head despite the metal brace surrounding it. Crowley simply raised his eyebrow.

“You forgot to say the magic word,” he tutted, glancing over with a small smile.

“Please...” the prisoner begged softly, with a pleading look in his eyes.

“You should’ve kept your mouth shut. Coran, you can take the screws out of our friend’s head.” The demon with the apron smirked and gave Crowley a small bow.

“Yes Crowley.” Crowley turned from the prisoner and walked out of the cell as Coran walked into an adjoining room to get the proper tools, leaving the prisoner alone, a brace strapped to his head that was pin-cushioned with large screws. He tugged at his chains in frustration, causing them to rattle and attempted to stretch his wings, only to have their movements stopped by the metal straps. He sighed and closed his eyes, letting himself rest limply in the chains once more as the screams of the damned surrounded him, filling his ears.

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