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Mary Winchester would never forget the sound of angel wings. The faint rustling of feathers which announced the arrival of a man whose words changed everything.
She was standing in the kitchen with the late afternoon sun streaming light through the small window above the sink. The rays warmth gently caressed her face as she peeled potatoes for the soup on the stove.
When Mary heard the aforementioned sound, she turned as quickly as her 8 months pregnant belly would allow her, adopting a defensive posture instinctively. There was a man standing five feet behind her. He wore a long tan trench coat over a shirt and tie. He was of medium height with piercing blue eyes and dark disheveled hair.
“Who are you?” Mary asked scathingly, just waiting for the moment that those blue irises were eclipsed by black.
“I am Castiel,” The man responded as if that answered anything. In his silence, Mary reached for a water bottle sitting by the sink and she doused the interloper. There was no effect.
True fear gripped Mary’s heart and she put her hand protectively over her swollen belly. “You aren’t a demon,” She stated. “So what are you?” Her tone was demanding.
Castiel still did not move from his spot. Suddenly he was completely dry. “I am an Angel of the Lord.”
Mary remembered her father’s feelings about angels and God. Most hunters accepted the fact that there was only evil out there, but something about this man made Mary believe his words. Maybe it had to do with how the baby inside her womb reacted to him. In his silence, she felt restless, agitated movements kick against her stomach, but when he spoke an unparalleled sense of tranquility radiated from her unborn child.
“Is this about Azazel?” She asked pointedly, the name causing her physical pain as it rolled off her tongue.
Castiel took a tentative step towards her, and when she didn’t react he closed the distance between them. “I am here to assuage your fears, Mary Winchester. The child you carry is not in danger from Azazel. If that wretch could know what power your son will have, he would cower in fear.” Castiel knelt until he was on the same level as Mary’s navel. He placed his hand lightly on her belly.
Mary felt Dean leap at the angel’s touch. “’For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord. ‘Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’” Castiel recited his Father’s words in a whisper to the child growing inside Mary. “Your son is the only hope humanity has for survival, and he has been entrusted to me by my Father for protection and guidance.” Castiel’s voice calmed Mary slightly.
“Will he be safe?” She asked pointedly.
“I will die for him,” Castiel stated in a tone that left Mary unable to deny the truth in his words. “Nothing is more important than ensuring the protection of Dean.” The tears stinging Mary’s eyes spilled onto her cheeks as she heard the angel say her son’s name. “Do not weep,” Castiel said which only served to increase the intensity of Mary’s sobbing.
Castiel heard the Impala pull into the driveway. Reaching into his coat pocket, he retrieved a small angel statuette and handed it to Mary. “Place this in his room, it will provide protection for him.”
“Don’t go.” Mary whispered as she heard the front door open.
“I am always watching,” He said with a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. And with that, he disappeared on the spot.
Mary was still crying when John entered the kitchen. “What’s wrong, baby?” He asked, his brows furrowed with concern.
Shaking her head, she tried to stop the barrage of tears which threatened again. John pulled her into a strong embrace and stroked her hair as she sobbed.
When John released her and placed a tender kiss on her lips, she smiled weakly. “Hormones,” She explained as John placed his hand over her belly just as Castiel had done moments before. A massive smile spread across his face as he felt his son kick against his touch.
As John made his way towards the fridge to grab a beer, he noticed the angel statuette on the counter. “Who’s that from?” He asked passively.
Mary returned to peeling the potatoes. “I found it at the thrift store today,” She said innocently. “I thought it would be good in Dean’s room.” John made a face but didn’t say anything.
“You need any help?” He asked as he stood in the doorway to the kitchen with a beer in his hand.
Mary shook her head with a smile. “You go watch TV.”
Once again alone in the kitchen, Mary felt Dean move inside her again. She rubbed her belly fondly and whispered, “Angels are watching over you, Dean.”