The East Wind Brings Angels [SuperWholock]

Chapter One ~ Supernatural

Welcome *bows* My name is Jessie and me and friend/ co-writer Lily have decided to let you sociopaths have a taste of the first three chapters of our fanfic. We've been working on this for a while now and we're still working on it, so no schedule has been decided, but in the future we hope to have all that figured out. We hope you high functioning TimeLords enjoy it.

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Dean Winchester was not used to silence.

Sure, he'd stumbled his way through twelve years of public schooling, where the rule was generally silence, but he was always the one to break that rule, challenge the authority that bound those around him. He remembered scoffing at their obedience, their fear of being reprimanded by parents and teachers alike. There they were, dreading a bad report card or missing a party, when he was facing real danger. He fought to keep them safe. That fighting generally required loud noise, gunshots and screaming and the sound of fist hitting flesh.

Thus, Dean Winchester was not used to silence.

To be fair, it wasn't complete silence that he sat in. Every now and then he could hear the turning of a page or a sigh from the moose- his brother, Sammy- in front of him. The hum of the bunker's electricity was also audible, albeit annoying. Letting out a slight groan, he sat back in his chair, glancing around the library as he did so. The atmosphere was quiet and sleepy, which- for some odd reason- frustrated him to no end. He shifted, cracking his knuckles, turning his head to relieve the crick in it, and rubbed his eyes. He let out numerous sighs. He did everything but what he was supposed to be doing.

Finally, Sam had had enough. He slapped his book closed and looked up at his older brother. "Dean, for god's sake, what?"

"I'm-" he began.

"Bored, yes, I know. You've said so half a dozen times already. But you being bored isn't going to help us find this monster, and it especially isn't going to help us find Metatron." Sam rebuked.

"Yeah, but it sure as hell makes things interesting." Dean retorted.

"We don't need interesting right now, Dean. We've got enough of that. What we need is to figure out what kind of monster we're hunting, for one, cause honestly, I have no idea." The taller hunter rubbed his face wearily, looking exasperated. "We've got people disappearing left and right, and no idea how. Is this really the best time to take a break?"

"And we've gotten so far like this? C'mon, Sammy, this isn't working and you know it. We better leave it be for a bit, attack it with fresh eyes, ya know, tomorrow. We're no use like this." He cajoled.

"But we-"

"But nothing, Sammy. There's nothing for us to do. How about a beer?" Dismissing his brother and the stick up his ass, Dean got up to go to the fridge, checking his watch as he went. "Crap."

"What?" Sam called, "Are we out?"

"No, I just- I missed something I wanted to see." He called back, opening the refrigerator door and extracting two beers.

"What, on TV?"

"No, outside. The space station was supposed to pass overhead an hour ago." He answered as he handed his brother the alcoholic beverage and sat.

"Oh, yeah," Sam said, realization dawning as he twisted the cap off his bottle. "You were a real space nut when you were a kid, weren't you?"

"Well, you've gotta admit, it'd be pretty damn awesome to live on a spaceship." He replied, a little defensively, "Think, Sammy; no monsters, just lots of beer and girls, surrounded by stars... it's perfect."

"Okay, Kirk." Sam laughed.

"Shut your face, you know it would be."

"I doubt you'd be able to convince some girl to drop everything and go to space with you." Sam scoffed, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Hey, if not, there's always alien chicks, right?" Dean said, a slight smirk gracing his face, but he didn't get to find out what Sam thought about that particular gem. Instead, their conversation was interrupted by a flutter of wings, accompanied by a certain angel in a trench coat.

"Cas, hey," Dean acknowledged, nodding to him.

"Hello, Dean," He nodded, "Sam."

"Hey, how are you?" Sam asked, sitting up where he had previously been reclining.

"I'm well, and you?" Castiel was stiff in his niceties, as always. Either way, Dean found his presence refreshing. It was always good to see him.

"We're alright," Dean replied, "What's up?"

"Well, I don't know if it's up, relative to the ground, of course, but I have some news on Metatron." He replied, tilting his head slightly.

Sam and Dean instantly sat up straighter.

"He's been spotted in Seattle. I don't know what he was doing there, but he's back. On the grid, as you'd put it." He inclined his head toward Sam, "He hasn't sent any messages over angel radio, but I'm listening."

"But he's not in Seattle anymore?" Sam asked.

"No. Unfortunately, by the time the information got to me, he was gone."

"So he's off the grid again. Fan-friggin-tastic." Dean groaned.

"I'll keep looking," Cas said, by way of salutation, but Dean quickly stopped him.

"Hang on, Cas, I got a question."

"Yes?" The angel turned at that, looking him directly in the eye in that slightly unnerving way of his. Dean was not deterred.

"Would you ever bang an alien?" Dean asked as a sly smirk curled his lips.

"Dude, no. Seriously?" Sam interjected, watching Cas flounder.

"How 'bout you, Cas? You ever do a little cloud-seeding with an extra-terrestrial?" Dean asked him, ignoring his brother in favor of making his angel uncomfortable.

"I don't know why you'd even insinuate-" He began, looking confused and slightly affronted.

"C'mon, Cas, ain't you ever seen Roswell?"

"Roswell? No, I don't know anybody of the name of Roswell."

"No, Cas, it's- nevermind." He forwent the reference in favor of more questioning. "Seriously, though, you're telling me you'd never fuck an alien? No matter how hot they were?"

"Dean, stop," said Sam.

"No, Sammy, I'm curious. Tell me, Cas; would you bang an alien?"

"I suppose if the opportunity arose, I might-"

"Hell yeah! See, Sammy? Cas would bang an alien." Dean pumped his fist triumphantly. His head was tilted back in a laugh, one that his brother was starting to mimic. It was these rare, light-hearted moments that kept them going.

Cas was tilting his head again, a small smile on his face as he watched Sam start to join in on the laughter. Dean knew that Cas cared about the two of them, no matter how dysfunctional their relationship could be. He knew that the angel, despite how aloof he might seem at times, wanted to see him and his brother happy. He was a great friend, Dean thought as he stood to go and get Cas a beer, Sammy pulling out a chair for the celestial being as he did so.

He truly, truly was.