Kevin Tran's Story

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Dean stood there, looking down on his beaten and battered friend with the utmost sympathy, green eyes alight with too many emotions to register. Today he wouldn't say his usual snarky line about "Don't be such a wuss, you only almost died, no big deal." Or "Come on you big baby, need me to change your diaper too?" Because today, he could barely process having Castiel safe and there, let alone tease him as he normally would. He could barely process that Cas was now very fragile, very human. He was no longer Castiel; who used to be stars all bottled up in skin and bones, grace knitted veins, and a skeleton wired by mountains and meteor dust...He was Cas, a mortal man without a clue how to live as such, and this frightened the Hell out of Dean.

Dean attempted cracking a smile as Cas heaved himself off of the bed silently--the memory foam mattress aiding his quiet ascension but not giving him much support to push off of. His bandages stretched and pulled at bare skin when he moved, drawing Dean's eyes down to his chest for fear of tearing open newly healing wounds, but his gaze lingered for other unknown reasons...Dean's skin burned under Cas' touch as the ex angel braced himself on Dean's shoulder, it always did--even more so if he was touching the handprint scar he had seared into Dean's flesh the day he rose him up and out of Perdition. But it wasn't a painful or unpleasant sort of burn, but more like a prickling anticipatory sensation, hot skin flushing. Dean opened his mouth to say something, what he wasn't sure, but was quickly interrupted by the distressed rapping outside though it was not coming from their own bedroom door."Dean, if it's all the same to you, I'd like to excuse myself to the shower. It would appear you have a visitor. I won't keep you away from much longer." He cleared his throat, Adam's apple bobbing nervously under a layer of fine light stubble. "You going to be okay in there all by yourself?" He asked, genuinely concerned that Cas might slip and fall in the shower or pass out from the heat of the water. "Need me to come help?" He asked before realizing the implication behind his words and nearly choking on them. Luckily, Castiel didn't seem to be aware of his mistake. "Thank you Dean, Sincerely. You don't need to concern yourself with me at the moment. Worry more about Sam until he's fully healed. I assure you that I'm alright." He replied before tearing his gaze away from Dean's and trudging on to the bathroom.

Dean watched his retreat longingly, not sure he was ready to be out of Cas' presence so shortly after only having found it again. He wanted to tell his friend about how frantically he had searched for him--all the avenues he had tried, but if he was being completely honest with himself, it was probably for the best that he took a breather. Cas needed a deep clean and at the rate that Dean was rambling, he would probably screw the pooch on the whole secret keeping and confess everything that had transpired with Sam since Cas' fall. He wasn't sure if that was a good idea yet or not. So when Castiel softly closed the bathroom door behind him, Dean found himself marching out of his bedroom and down the hall to the work center.

"Dude, who even know's where we live?" He asked Sam as he passed, doubtful that his brother had even heard the knock with how out of it he had been as of late. "It's not like we gave our address out. 'Hey! Just moved in! If you aren't one of the bastards trying to kill us, drop on by for a house-er bunker warming party! There will be booze, pie, a fallen angel and a prophet!'" He sarcastically griped as he stalked up to the entrance before pulling out his pearl handled nickle-plated Colt 1911 A1 .45 caliber semi-automatic from his waistband yet again and aimed it at the door. How many times am I going to have to do this in a day? He idly wondered as he wrenched the big steel barricade open to reveal one rather confused looking Kevin Tran.

"Speaking of Prophets...." He said; Eyes rolling as he lowered his gun. "Dude. What the Hell? Weren't you supposed to be in your room studying a tablet or something? Go on a beer run without telling us?" He chastised, worry evident in his tone. "What if something would of happened to you, you idiot."

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So in retrospect sneaking out of the bunker for some 'alone time' wasn't really the wisest idea on Kevin's part. But it wasn't like he made a habit of it. He doesn't just go out on a daily basis, most of the time he's cooped up in that damn 'secret lair'. What? Did you think he was stupid? Why would he go outside knowing that the angels have fallen, Heaven's locked its doors, and demons even more on the prowl than ever before? No, this was a one time thing. An exception to his usual intent to stay within the confines of the secure bunker. The only reason he even bothered to leave in the first place was because of Crowley. Ever since that bastard was brought in here the demon's been screwing with his head. He couldn't take it. He had to get out of that damn place and take a breather. What he didn't intend to do, however, was leave his fucking key and lock himself out. He'd hoped to be in and out without the Winchesters knowing but that had all gone to shit in his haste to leave.

He'd realized he didn't have the key about an hour or two after left—he wasn't sure exactly what time it was. Needless to say, he felt obliged to bring tidings for his heedlessness. Maybe bringing Dean a pie would soften the verbal bashing he was sure to receive. Sam wasn't the disciplinarian of the two, though he had other things to worry about at the moment. Kevin pounded at the door, making his presence known. He didn't know what to expect and yet he wasn't surprised when the door opened and he was staring down the barrel of a 45. The young man held his hands up in surrender, plastic bag slung around his wrist, trying to laugh off the tension as Dean's shoulders visibly unwound.

"Speaking of Prophets...." The older Winchester brother said, his eyes rolling melodramatically as he lowered his pistol. "Dude. What the Hell? Weren't you supposed to be in your room studying a tablet or something? Go on a beer run without telling us? What if something would of happened to you, you idiot?" Kevin took the badgering, sensing the concern evident in the hunter's voice.

"Look, I'm sorry, alright?" the younger man offered up, "It was stupid but I needed to get out for a while to-...to clear my head." He lowered his gaze, catching sight of the bag and lifting it up so the older Winchester could see. "But hey, I brought pie and a double bacon cheeseburger." He walked through the threshold after handing Dean his food, looking around for the younger of the two boys. "Where's Sam? I got him one of those salads in a cup things." He found Sam at his computer, offering him a small smile though he was buried in research. Truly he was just thankful that Sam was feeling well enough to do research at all. To Kevin, it was a good sign.

When he returned to the kitchen he found Dean solemnly eating his pie, looking to all the world like something was on his mind. Kevin sat down in front of him, trying to meet his gaze and struggling. "You alright, Dean? Did something happen?"

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Sometimes John had had to leave abruptly on a hunting trip when Sam and Dean were kids, more than a few times actually, and he'd just drop the boys off at a half-assed motel, leaving Dean with some cash, a bit of food, and a warning to shoot first, ask questions later, and always look out for Sammy, no matter what. And sometimes John would be gone longer than anticipated and the food and money would have slowly run out. Dean had been too young to work for much of that time so he resorted to shoplifting in order to get food, but what little he could scrounge up, he would always give to Sammy, leaving the barest amount for himself. He knew what being hungry was like.

This was also why Dean later grew up and ate as much as he could manage in one setting because he didn’t know when his next meal might of been, and it was why he got so much pleasure in the food he ate. He was not just gluttonous, but he genuinely thought "This is the best meal ever." And meant it. And he loves pie, not just because his mother Mary would make pie with him, but because it harkened back to a time when he didn’t have to worry about going hungry. When everything was warm and happy and safe, and pie was his most vivid sensory connection to that time.

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Dean accepted the food offering with a grunt as Kevin zipped on by to find Sam, still grumbling about angels finding one asian prophet and ringing his scrawny neck. By the time he had carried his prize back to the kitchen to eat it, Kevin had already made his way back, empty handed, and pulled out the chair in front of him.

"You alright, Dean? Did something happen?"


Dean imagined his face must of looked like an open book with illustrations for the easily confused right then, how else could Kevin have been so intuitive? He dropped his pie fork down to the plate and sucked a piece of apple out from between his teeth before he answered, unsure exactly how to explain this to his friend. He had been so caught up in Cas' return earlier that Kevin not being aware hadn't even crossed his mind.

Dean locked eyes with Kevin and it was one of the first times in his long life that his face wasn't lined with a certain hardness. Of course it was still his face, a face that appeared to be sculpted from stone marble but... For some reason it looked softer? Sorrow and joy co-migling, lining every plane and curve of his features. A look that only having just about everyone you cared for, your family, all safe and together could produce.

"Cas is back..." He finally explained, voice low with an undercurrent of something else there. His eyebrows creased his brow, tilting upward. His expression was a full one, one that looked like it had a million things to say. Really, who else in the world could communicate so much with just their eyebrows? It had to be supernatural. Or maybe just an inherently Dean-centric thing. The Vampires from the anne rice novels all had a special skill set, maybe this was just his. Anyone else would probably ask for a return slip if they got that as their super gift, except it worked for Dean. "He is banged up pretty bad, but he is gonna make it." He finished, voice full of concern and relief. "You and me gotta pick up the slack around here, get them on their feet, you understand?" He questioned not really looking for an answer, wrapping his half eaten pie back up and stuffing it in the bag. "Sam can fill you in on the details, and I want you to get a feel for how he's doing. How he's really doing, you got me?" He again rhetorically asked as he rose from his chair, taking the bag with the uneaten burger and half devoured pie inside in hand, expecting Kevin to understand his true intentions there. "I'm gonna take the burger to Cas, he is probably starving." Dean voiced, making his exit. "Oh and Kev? You ever pull that leaving without telling us where you're going shit, I'll kick your ass." He warned playfully with a wry smile but also in complete seriousness.

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After seeing human Cas awake for the first time, Dean could tell Castiel had to of felt as if his body shackled his soul-that he was imprisoned inside a cage of bones now. He knew Cas wanted to let the prisoner trapped inside his chest shriek, dig it’s claws down the throat of reason so it may have the words to explain this but he simply couldn't. After all, being human was being helpless most of the time.

He knew Cas probably wished that he could express to Dean, to Kevin and Sam, that he had a great nothingness that flooded his body when he came into humanity; it sending waves crashing through his trembling fingertips, a hurricane in his mind, a tsunami in his chest. That he thought his winged wounds must have been the worlds failed attempt to dig deep enough to replant his grace back within his body before he hit the ground, clench his newfound mortality in it's fists and rip it from his bones, drain his blood of its contamination, free the life inside by filling it back up with God's divine power. But this was more than he would most likely ever say, had the roles been reversed, Dean would have done the same. He couldn't imagine that kind of pain, always believeing and being one thing with purpose, then suddenly losing all of that.

More than anything he just wanted to be there for Cas as best he could and he couldn't do that if he let slip his own problems so upon finding his closed bedroom door, Dean slipped on his mask. He rarely took it off any more anyways. Almost never. Or was it never, now? It was long past the point where it chafed. There was only numbness where it rubbed against his skin. Dean fancied it had grown into his face, that he couldn't remove it even if he wanted to. The mask was always smiling, always smirking. He chose it for that very reason. People believed what their eyes told them, and a smile of serene confidence set his friends at ease.

"Cas?" He called out, gentlely rapping on the wood with his knuckles before turning the knob and sliding in. "You out yet?"

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"Cas is back..."

Kevin had only meant the angel Castiel a handful of times. He didn't know how he felt about him because he was such an inconstant figure in the Winchester's lives, seemingly coming in and out at random times. What little he did know about him was how Dean and Sam felt about him. Dean barely talked about him—Cas being one of those subjects you just don't talk about. Sam, on the other hand, always referred to the angel as family regardless of how often the holy tax account screwed things up. Every time he tuned into Angel radio, his name was all he heard. The angels were looking for him. Castiel was human. They wanted his head. The young man zoned out a bit in the older hunter's silence. Cas was here? That was indeed problematic. If the angels found out they'd be on this bunker like white on rice and they'd all be fucked. They were still technically angels. They wouldn't think twice about slitting the throat of a Winchester, and especially a prophet, just to get at the one responsible for the angels falling out of Heaven. Yet, as Dean began speaking of him again, Kevin couldn't bring himself to point this out to Dean. Just looking at him one could just tell how happy he was to have Castiel back.

"You and me gotta pick up the slack around here, get them on their feet, you understand?" To this, Kevin nodded. He'd do anything to help out Dean and Sam. They were his friends, his family. They'd die for him and Kevin doubted he'd ever hesitate to do the same. "Sam can fill you in on the details, and I want you to get a feel for how he's doing. How he's really doing, you got me?" With the brief eye contact that was made, Kevin immediately understood without words what Dean wanted from him. Sam didn't want to worry Dean and usually kept his pain or discomfort secret from his older brother just to keep some of the burden off of him. But Kevin wasn't Dean. Kevin wanted to help. It was an unspoken understanding between Kevin and Sam that he wasn't wary of listening to the younger brother's problems. As Dean made his exit"I'm gonna take the burger to Cas, he is probably starving. Oh and Kev? He turned to him, the young prophet seeing the facetious glint in the hunter's eyes. "You ever pull that leaving without telling us where you're going shit, I'll kick your ass." Kevin nodded, smiling to himself as he looked down at the table. He followed the sound of Dean's footsteps, remaining seated in the kitchen, waiting to hear the hunter's door shut before getting up out of his seat. He made his way back where Sam was doing his research, putting on a smile as he took in the sight of the man. He looked very well, better than he had in a long time, but he was going to find out why Dean didn't feel that way. "Hey, how's the salad?" He inquired in a light, friendly tone. He sat himself by Sam, his eyes briefly scanning the workload before fixing his eyes onto the young hunter's face.

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Sam heard the door, but he didn't feel like moving. His brother rushed by moments later, so he knew the situation was handled. It was mostly because Sam was currently reading an article about the appearance of the lights in the sky and how NASA was calling it a comet storm. Wonderful, a beautiful cover up brought to you by the fine fellows at NASA.

He rested his forehead on his hand in irritation, rubbing the worry lines on his forehead as he took in a deep breath. It still amazed him how obviously the cover ups by the government were and how the public simple bought them, hook-line-and sinker. It was times like these that Sam was very happy that he was 'privileged' enough to know about the real world- otherwise he would probably be one of those normal guys that excepts the raining of hell as a comet storm (whatever the hell that is). Taking a deep breath, Sam clicked the next tab and closed out of the cover up story to move onto something with (hopefully) a little more information.

The next tab was a story of a group of teenagers that had been found in an alley way in Illinois, their eye balls burned to crisps and bodies slightly mutilated. Sam read through the article a few times before he sat back a bit and thought through the new information. So the angels were looking for vessels and apparently these teenagers did not cooperate. Though Sam hated to think about it, angels were not the good guys anymore and hadn't been for a long time. He shook his head slightly as he sat forward, a hand moving up to push his long locks off his face.

Sam glanced up just as Kevin walked into the room, a small smile spreading against the kids face as he past the tired hunter. Sam nodded and offered a tired smile back, barely registering the fact that Kevin set something down next to him. He turned back to his computer as Dean and the prophet headed into the kitchen, once again flicking to a new tab with new information on an angel attack.

"Hey, how's the salad?"

Sam blinked and flicked his gaze away from the bright light of the screen, resting his tired hazel eyes on the brown ones of Kevin Tran. He smiled in greeting, looking down at the salad that had magically appeared next to his left arm.

"Hey Kev, thanks. Did you get this for me?" Sam asked as he snagged the plastic case and popped the lid open hastily. He was hungry all of a sudden and the sight of actual healthy food made his famished stomach growl, "This looks awesome, glad to have someone that can appreciate good food around here"

Sam stabbed a fork full of lettuce, onion, tomato, and cucumber, shoving the whole load into his mouth while he turned his laptop to face the scrawny looking prophet across from him. He pointed at the screen as he finished his bite, swallowing it swiftly before opening his mouth to speak, "Take a look at this. I've found over a twenty cases were the eyes have been burned out and human bodies have been found exploded. Looks like the angels are looking for vessels, fast, and we have no way of putting a stop to it". Sam sighed and took another bite, this one smaller, and chewed languidly, "Its a screwed up day when I'm more worried about angels kills then demon ones"

Slowly he leaned back in his chair, shoving his hair from his head once more, "But....not much we can do right now I guess. How're you?" He looked the other over, deciding that the asian was surprisingly okay looking compared to everyone else. Well, Kevin always had this look of unease and crazy about him, but with what the kid had been through Sam didn't blame him. It would be good to see what would become of Kevin Tran once this was all over....

Wasn't that a joke.

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It didn't come as a shock to the young prophet that the younger Winchester hadn't even registered the salad had been there until Kevin had returned and actually spoke to him. Get Sam on the case and he's practically in his own little world. It was something he could relate to. Studying and research, they really go hand in hand. Finding out new information and being prepared was something that's built Kevin up to where he is today. He just never realized that one day he'd be reading how to close the gates of Hell forever off of a sacred tablet. Talk about life's little surprises.

"Did you get this for me?"

To this Kevin responded with a smirk, "Well no one else eats that stuff." He quipped, making himself comfortable across from Sam. He returned the hunter's smile with one of his own as he delved into the salad, offering up a quiet chuckle when the older man referred to that tray of leaves and vegetables as 'good food' when his own preference was beginning to have a Dean-like influence. As Sam idly ate, Kevin made an effort to make his wandering eyes go unnoticed. Looking at him you wouldn't be able to tell that he'd gone through Hell. He hadn't seen what had become of Sam after the trials but from what Dean told him, it wasn't good. Now the color was coming back into his skin and, though he looked exhausted, he didn't look as if he was going to suddenly collapse and possibly never wake up again. This recovery was, no-pun intended, nothing short of a miracle. And, although he was very grateful and relieved, he couldn't help but think that something wasn't right. But then again he was about as stable-minded as a shizo at this point so what did he know?

"Take a look at this-..." As Sam turned the computer towards him, Kevin was snapped out of his reverie, turning his attention onto the screen. "I've found over a twenty cases were the eyes have been burned out and human bodies have been found exploded. Looks like the angels are looking for vessels, fast, and we have no way of putting a stop to it". Sam sighed and pulled Kevin's gaze away for a fraction of a second before he switched over to another tab which held as much grim news as the one before it, "Its a screwed up day when I'm more worried about angels kills then demon ones" The hunter's voice was but a narration as his dark eyes skimmed the page, trying in vain to remember every name of the victims on the news page. Kevin couldn't help but agree. He always assumed that angels were supposed to be the good guys, but how good could they be if this is what they're doing to people? "Not much we can do right now I guess. How're you?"

"I should ask you the same question, man." Kevin retorted, returning the laptop to him, "Are you okay?" He knew it was a dumb question, seeing as he could probably see for himself that Sam was fine. "I mean, It's good that you're feeling better but you should really be getting some sleep. Maybe you should let me take over the book work while you rest up."

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Sam could not find out about Ezekiel. He was sure of this the moment he touched Sam's soul that the man would not be okay with his presence. Years of torture from demons and angels alike have left both brothers with strong trust issues and a strong sense of what should be trusted. Ezekiel understood their issues with the angels- dealing with one of his harsher brothers alone could put you off, but Lucifer and Michael? No, it was better to remain hidden from the tall man then try and reason with why he was needed for his survival.

Though, Ezekiel is not sure how long their situation would remain. Already he can feel Sam poking and prodding at the little huddle of shadow he has made for himself in the humans mind. He has pulled his tattered grace so tightly around himself, he is sure he has no semblance of a being to the human. But Sam knows when something is strange, he was trained to do just that, so something strange and foreign inside his own being would surely be found. It was only a matter of time and Ezekiel shuttered to think of the aftermath. Being rejected from a host does not damage either entity, but the ripping sensation he will surely feel will ruin any of the recovery he has gained from being within Sam. Without a host, his damaged grace will have nothing to bottle itself up in and heal- the main reason that he needs Sam just as much as Sam needs him.

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"I should ask you the same question, man. Are you okay?"

By now, Sam should be damn used to that question. After his latest stunt with death, Dean hasn't started a conversation with him without asking some form of it. He knew he looked like shit- he was probably acting like a zombie as well, but he was fine. It was better to be alive and tired then otherwise. Frankly, the near fact that he was sitting up, awake, and wanting to research should be testimony that he was fine. But he knew Kevin was only worrying over him and the guy meant no harm....

"I mean, It's good that you're feeling better but you should really be getting some sleep. Maybe you should let me take over the book work while you rest up."

Sam worked up a tight smile and nodded, leaning back away from Kevin to sit in his chair while twirling the computer around to only face him, "Nah Kev, actually I'm fine. A little tired, I feel like another week of laying low might do me good but...", Sam paused as he stared at the screen, his brows knitting together for a moment. It was weird as hell that he was fine. What he went through, the trials, what he felt in that abandoned church...the things he said...Sam was going to die that day and probably had been meant to. Maybe it was because the angels weren't in heaven anymore, though frankly Sam didn't thing he would be ending up top side when everything was finally all said and done. The day Sam Winchester died, for real, demons would be ready to snatch up his soul for sure. But the mere fact that he was alive right now meant something- or it didn't.

"You read up on the tablets and trials, did you ever encounter anything to do with what happens after? I know we weren't fully sure what the outcome would be, but was there anything particular you remember?", He looked up at the younger man across from him, eyebrows still knitted as he muddled through it in his mind. Hunters in general, especially the Winchesters, have been raised to trust their gut when something seems off. And as horrible as it seems, Sam was confused as to how he surived the horrible agony he felt after Dean pulled him away from the trials.

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That tight smile was all the reassurance he'd get from the Winchester. Both brothers were always the sort of closed off bunch, especially the elder, but Sam wasn't quite an open book either. "Nah Kev, actually I'm fine. A little tired, I feel like another week of laying low might do me good but-..." Kevin's brow cocked as the younger of the two brothers he'd began to call his family stared at the computer screen, deep in thought. He tried to read into the look in his eyes and try and decipher what could be going on in his head, but it diminished just as quickly as it arrived. "You read up on the tablets and trials, did you ever encounter anything to do with what happens after? I know we weren't fully sure what the outcome would be, but was there anything particular you remember?"

Kevin sighed, "Believe me Sam, if there was anything I'd let you know." For a moment, Kevin mulled over what he could remember about the Angel tablet. For all intents and purposes, Sam shouldn't have lived through the trials. It was a cause for concern, though an utter fucking miracle, that Sam was even walking around at this point. What he couldn't piece together was how. Dean should really be asking the same question, in retrospect. Yeah sure his brother was alive and kicking. Who'd look a gift horse in the mouth, right? But that wasn't the point. Something brought Sam back. And Kevin could only assume that Dean had something to do with it. He cut his eyes to Sam, an coming to light, "Dean said Cas was back, right? Maybe we could ask him once he comes down."

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