Scars and Wings

Chapter 2

"So, let me get this straight." I couldn't believe my own ears. "You are telling me that for the last six years, I have been battling with the ex-queen of Hell over who gets control of my body?"

Dean looked at Sam. "We think so..."

"We aren't even sure why this is happening," Sam explained. "We have seen demons give control or awareness back to their hosts, but from what you are telling us, Lilith has never had control while you are conscious."

We looked back to Castiel, who had remained silent for the last hour or so. His shining blue eyes shimmered with confusion and curiosity. He took a few steps closer.

"I have never heard of such a situation as this before."

Sam and Dean looked a little downcast at this. I looked at Castiel and tried to find the reason why his voice sounded so familiar, beyond what had apparently happened earlier this morning, but I shook away the thought and turned back to the brothers.

"Shay," Sam said, breaking the silence. "Tell us more about yourself. Maybe that will help us understand a little more about what is happening."

I pulled my legs up onto the couch. "Well, I was raised here in the Springs. I have only been suspended once and that was in third grade. I'm an average student. My friends say that I'm a pretty good writer, but I don't know about that. I love to sing and act, but didn't get much of a chance to act in high-school or elsewhere. I have only had one official boyfriend and sometimes I wish I had gotten to know him as a friend first before I got so serious with him. I'm a Taurus and enjoy a good book in front of the fireplace. I love long walks on the beach, when I can get them. And as far as I know, nothing weird or unusual has ever happened to me, besides blacking out six years ago. Oh, and my favorite number in the alphabet's purple."

Dean chuckled. "Favorite number in the alphabet's purple."

"My brother got that from somewhere, but I have no idea where. Probably from some YouTube channel he watched."

Castiel spoke up. "There are not any numbers in the alphabet, and the color purple is neither a number nor a letter."

"It's a joke, Cas," Dean said, rolling his eyes. He reached over a patted Castiel's arm.

"Oh." Castiel glanced to meet Dean's gaze. I swear I saw a spark fly between them, and they both looked away with a slight grin on both of their faces. It was the time I had seem any emotion touch Castiel's face and go beyond his eyes.

I smiled at the exchange. It was subtle, but I could see it. It reminded me of my parents. At the thought of them, a tear rolled down my cheek.

"Shay, what's wrong?" Dean asked.

I scrubbed away any more tears. "Nothing really. Forget about it."

"Nothing does not make anyone cry," Castiel said.

"Fine." There was no use hiding it. I gestured to Dean and Castiel. "You two just reminded me of my parents for a second. They used to adjust their movements so that they could catch the other's eyes or just to be closer to each other. You two just did that, and I think it was adorable."

Cas's eyes widened and Dean tried to hide the red tinge that was creeping up his cheeks.

Dean cleared his throat. "I've no idea what you are talking about."

Sam and I just looked at them, with a really? look on our faces.

Dean scowled. "It isn't like we are making out in public or making goo-goo eyes at each other. How is it so fucking obvious?"

I laughed. "Little things, Dean. Little things."

Sam turned back to me. "Can we talk to your parents? Maybe them know something that they never told you?"

I shook my head. "They died a couple months ago in a car crash." I reached over and grabbed the picture frame that was on the coffee table. It was the picture of me, my sister, my brothers, and my parents at Disneyland for Momma's birthday, just a few weeks before that nightmare.

Sam looked down. "I'm sorry." Dean and Cas nodded in agreement.

"My condolences for your loss."

"Thanks, Cas." I smiled a little him.

Sam took the picture. "None of you look alike."

"We shouldn't. Momma couldn't have children of her own because of some genetics fluke, so Momma and Dad adopted. I was six months old when they took me home."

Dean looked intrigued. "You're adopted? And that doesn't count as unusual?"

"Yes, I'm adopted," I shrugged. "I don't think of myself as adopted. I couldn't have asked for a better family, and the only thing that we didn't share was blood."

"Family goes beyond blood." Dean smiled sadly. "Do you know who your real parents were?" Sam asked.

"Don't know, don't care. I was abused and abandoned when I was only a few days old." I sneered at the thought. "Whoever my parents were, they didn't even bother to drop me off at the fire station less than a mile away, though I think they wanted me dead. The couple who found me said that I must have been some sort cult sacrifice."

All three were staring intently at me now.

Dean asked, "Why did they think that?"

I sighed and turned my back to the men. "Because of these." I pulled up the back of my shirt to reveal the scars that marred my skin since I was a baby. Pulling my shirt down, I turned back to the group.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "I think that constitutes as unusual."

I hugged myself. "They are all over my chest and stomach, too. I almost died from blood loss. The police couldn't connect any of the symbols to any cult in the area or in the state, and I researched them on my own." Anger swelled in my chest. "Whoever did this to me must have been just sick. They're just random squiggles and lines. They don't mean anything."

"Yes, they do."

I looked at Castiel. "No, they don't. I have researched every sign and symbol. It's all gibberish."

"It's Enochian," Castiel said with a matter of fact voice.

"The language of the angels? All I know about Enochian is that for angelic fangirls, it is like elvish to Lord of the Rings fans."

"What I understand about elvish is that is was a created as a false language, but it was created by a linguist who made it inherently an actual language. Enochian is a true language, spoken since the beginning of time, and is the original language of mankind before the Tower of Babel."

"Beyond the point, you can read it?"

"Of course. Whoever carved those sigils into you wanted you well hidden. They are masking and protection sigils. They are strategically placed to hide your essence, similar to what Sam and Dean have carved into their ribs, but there are some strange variances which make them unique. Whoever did create the markings knew very well what they were doing. Though the sigils across your shoulder blades, I haven't seen any sigil exactly like it, though it bears many similarities to binding sigils."

"I have a similar one across my stomach." I traced the pattern on my shirt. "They are the only ones that still bother me, tingling or burning sometimes. Doctors say that it's normal, since they were the deepest ones and caused permanent nerve damage."

Cas stepped closer. "May I? I wish to see something about the sigils on your back."

Before I could answer, I heard my lock being turned. Sam and Dean jumped up, reaching for their guns. I heard paper rustling and soft swearing. I sighed and opened the door to reveal a heavily laden Claire. I peeked around the paper bags.

"Need a hand?"

"No, I'm totally not about to drop your precious peaches, that were $2.49 a pound just to let you know. I better get a peach cobbler out of this. Oh, and they didn't have the all natural peanut butter you like, so I grabbed some of the really good stuff that you only use for peanut butter balls. Careful, take this one."

I grabbed the most precarious bag and led Claire to the kitchen. Claire happily chatted away totally unaware that she had three strangers staring at her.

"Since it is your big day next week, I made plans with some of the guys and we are going to the Rabbit Hole downtown. Brad asked if he could invite Conner, and I said sure why not 'cuz it's your twenty-first and the more the merrier, right? Maybe we should go shopping before, so we can find something for you to wear besides jeans and those sweatshirts you oh so love. I mean you don't have a single dress in your entire closet, for heaven's sake! You have a gorgeous figure, why not show it off?"

I glanced over her shoulder and cleared my throat.

"What?" Claire turned and gasped. She turned back to me, whispering. "You little vixen! You didn't tell me that you had hunks for friends! Come on introduce me!"

I rolled my eyes. "Claire, these are Detectives Dan Ford and Steve Hamill and their consultant Cas Teal. There was a disturbance last night and they were asking me a few questions."

Claire's eyes widened, then her boy-catcher smile spread across her face. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and held out her hand to Dean.

"Claire Larson."

I couldn't see her face but I knew she was batting her eyes and smiling like a little angel. I felt the room go slightly colder. I glanced over to see Cas looking sterner than usual.

"Dan Ford. How long have you known Ms. Wilson, Ms. Larson?"

Another hair flip. "Please call me Claire, and since high school. We were thick as thieves, still are. Hardly ever saw us apart."

"Well, it was nice to meet you, Claire, but we need to finish up our interview here," Sam cut in.

"Oh, don't mind me. You won't even know I'm here." With that, Claire turned and sashayed to the kitchen with an extra swing in her hips. I sighed and shook my head.

I turned back to the men. "Is there anything else you want to ask me, detectives?"

"Nothing that I can think of. Dan?"

"No, I think we have all we need. Can you send us some of those pictures you were talking about? They might be useful." Dean raised his eyebrow to see if I got what he meant.

I nodded. "Yes, I will send them as soon as I can."

Sam, Dean and Cas walked to the door. "Thank you for your time," Sam said. I opened the door and they walked out.

I caught Cas's sleeve and whispered. "She is harmless, Cas. A flirt and nothing more. Once she finds someones she deems better looking, she'll drop Dean like last season's fashion. You don't have to worry." Cas's expression didn't change, but I did feel him relax slightly. Dean reached over with a card in his hand.

"If you think of anything else, please call."

"Thank you."

I shut the door and returned to the kitchen. Claire was bouncing around like a girl on her first date.

"Omigod! OMIGOD! OMIGOD! Dan was totally checking me out! And that Steve guy was so easy on the eyes. That hair. I wonder if it was as soft as it looked, and so tall. Shay!" She grabbed my arms. "You HAVE to invite them to your party! I need another chance to get Dan's number."

"I think he is out of your reach, Claire bear."

"He is not!"

"I think he is."

"Why?"

"Did you seriously not notice Mr. Silent Trenchcoat staring daggers at you?"

Claire was aghast then crestfallen. "How come all the lookers in this town are taken or gay? I seriously need to get out of this state and go to California. Beach boys and movie stars."

"Yup, and earthquakes and fires and traffic and outrageous hot weather."

Claire slapped my arm. "You love the west coast. You grew up there just as much as you did here. Lucky."

"But this is home. Besides didn't you get into CU Denver? You might have to put movie stars and beach boys on the back burner if you get into that shrink course."

"I know. I just want to live before I'm chained to a desk. Unlike you, Ms. Study Abroad. What were you majoring in again?"

"Archaeology and History."

"Right. Maybe you will be the first to uproot the first mummified Bigfoot!" Claire threw her arms in the air in a mock victory dance. "Dr. Shalom Wilson discovers first ever corpse of local legend! Oh, I can see the headlines now."

"Haha, now get over here and help me peel these peaches if you want cobbler."

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