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Shattered

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The door didn’t make a sound when Dean opened it, and those were the last good news they received before realizing it was an ambush.

 

Behind the ten? Twelve? demons, Nyila stood with a smug grin, that didn’t vanish even as she commanded her goons to attack. “And nobody touch Crowley!” She added, “He’s mine. ” 

 

As a matter of fact, the smile only receded after seeing three of her demons get taken out by a single hit from the archangel.

 

She hummed, keeping the surprise out of her voice. “You got yourselves a new toy, boys?”

 

Toy.

 

Any resemblance of calm she’d manage to gather after the discussion evaporated instantly.

 

Toy.

 

“Ooh, touch a nerve, didn’t I?” She laughed when she noticed Seraphiel heading directly towards her. She pulled out a knife too, but Sera didn’t even notice.

 

She blasted another demon off her way before she reached Nyila. By then, the archangel blade had already been materialized in her right hand and she had a comfortable grip on it, which made it easier for her to plunge forward with it.

 

The hit missed, barely, and the demon managed to slash her a few times before Sera finally got a grip on her. 

 

But suddenly the sound of the fight behind her got to be too much, and in an instant she didn’t have the blade anymore.

 

She barely had any time to react.

 

Nyila laughed cruelly and in a second, she plunged the blade into Seraphiel's stomach.

 

The angel's eyes widened as a cry of pain escaped her lips. Blood started to pour from the wound, quickly covering her clothes with no intention of stopping any time soon.

 

The noise had attracted everyone's attention, for long enough that they all took advantage of that to kill their opponents before returning their eyes to the archangel.

 

As soon as Nyila stepped back in satisfaction, Sera took a hesitant step towards her, eyes wide in horror and with a shaking hand reaching out... And the next second, the pained expression on her face had been replaced by absolute determination as her hand grasped her neck and then- 

 

The entire group watched her break the demon's neck and then letting her body fall limp to the floor, as the corpse's eyes exploded in shades of orange and red.

 

When the rush died down, (which wasn't long enough for any of them to move from their spots) Sera attempted, and failed miserably at keeping her emotions to herself. Out of nowhere, a wave of sadness seemed to have washed away any fire she had in her eyes, almost pulling her down as she stared at Nyila.

 

What they couldn’t tell, not at least from just her expression, was what caused that feeling. Looking back, they could have assumed that the spell’s side effects were responsible, if Sera had bothered to mention that those existed.

 

But that would have been a mistake. 

 

A mistake, of the likes of thinking that Sera was sad. She wasn’t sad - not in the original meaning of the word. She was disappointed deeply at herself, and that was a pain with origins that dated back to the beginning, to the dawn of creation itself. 

 

As much as angels try to forget it, human souls are their responsibility. That’s a fact that, shockingly, won’t go away just by ignoring it. And every demon she had to kill was a reminder of how badly they - she - had failed. Demons had been human souls abandoned at their own luck. 

 

When God created Seraphiel, she hadn’t had any purpose other than to survive -and eventually defeat- Amara. All the angels that came after her had a clear motive, a job to do, and absolutely no doubt inside them. Sera was different.

 

That’s probably why God made the mark for her to carry: A sense of purpose, the feeling that she belonged, that she had a place. But then, He gave the mark to Lucifer. And He gave Sera Lucifer’s original work: Controlling the fate and destiny of every being in creation. To know the path that angels -and humans, when the time came,- had to follow, and to make sure they followed it. Which, for your information, was not the greatest job to give to the only angel who questions what she’s told.

 

God would find that out a little later, after the first breakdown Sera had. He gave her another job, a different and less official one, that he’d thought would make it easier: Protect humanity, both from Heaven and themselves.

 

If only He had realized how conflictive this new task was with her original job...

 

Sera couldn’t do it. She just couldn’t. To decide which parts of destiny to let occur and which ones to stop, choose who lives or dies- It was too much. But it was too late, ‘cause Lucifer didn’t have the mark anymore and he was already corrupted. And she had to hold on to whatever hope she could grab, because the next thing she knows is that her Father has left and so has her baby brother, and the ones that are still in Heaven are barking orders right and left and changing history as they please to fit their ideals, completely oblivious of the consequences it had to humans.

 

Her job was to stop that, she realized after she left Heaven: God knew they would go overboard with destiny and someone had to stop them, both for their own good and for humanity’s sake.

 

But she underestimated the importance of her job and left, and she couldn’t ever go back. She was responsible for everything wrong with the world.

 

Demons are what happen when angels forget their mission, she repeats herself very often, or when they decide they don’t want it anymore.

 

And that was the thought on Sera's mind as she watched the demon's corpse on the floor.

 

“Sera!”

 

After shaking away the initial shock, Sam ran towards the angel, staring alarmed at her bleeding stomach.

 

The rest of the group followed. Seraphiel looked a little confused at their expressions of concern, until she remembered she had been stabbed.

 

“It's nothing,” she promised, “don’t worry about me, I'm fine.”

 

“You're hurt!” Argued Dean, “Come on, we've-”

 

“It's fine, Dean. I lied,” She explained, as her usual calmness returned to her. “Nyila didn't do anything to me, see?” Sera took out the blade from the wound, that came out with an awful sound, and cleaned herself with grace. “I acted hurt to get her guard down. It worked.”

 

Sam, Dean and Cas watched her with mouths hanging open and utter shock written on their faces. None of them would have even imagined Sera would be capable of playing dirty like that. 

 

Those thoughts were inevitably followed by questions such as, were they responsible for that change? Was it a bad thing? Should they be feeling even more guilty?

 

Crowley's mind was crowded with racing thoughts, that bumped into each other and clashed together, making impossible to reach a single conclusion.

 

As much as Sera was kind and honest and good , she was not naive, and she would sacrifice her own nature for those she loved- which in the end, did nothing more than to solidify it.

 

She wasn't just an angel, he thought, she was the brightest being under the sun. And above it, too. Hell, the sun and all the stars combined wouldn't stand a chance against her.

 

He knew he was staring, but so was everybody else- or so he hoped. 

 

Maybe there was a hopeless romantic inside of him, he admitted, that didn’t give up on her even when she had, very explicitly, made clear that she wanted him dead- Or maybe, a more likely option, he’d just discovered a new kink he was unaware he had up until just now.

 

"Seraphiel, you-" Sam shook his head, interrupting himself. "We need to clean this up before somebody finds this mess.” She started to nod, but then he added, “Sera, you should probably go back to the bunker and get some rest.”

 

The archangel frowned. “I’m not any more tired than any of you,” She argued.

 

“Not yet, but when the spell dies off, you’ll probably pass out on the spot,” said Dean, agreeing with his brother. 

 

The spell, right. It had a time limit. The withdrawal wasn’t going to be pleasant for her.

 

“Don’t worry about this, okay? By the time you wake up, we’ll be home, with you.”

 

Her hands and feet started to tingle as she nodded. “You’re right. Thanks, Sam. I’ll see you soon.”

 

She teleported back to Kansas, directly at the feet of her bed. She only had time to kick off her shoes and take off her bloodied jacket before her eyes became heavy and she had to lay down.