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Unholy Devotion	By : FemmeBono Category: Supernatural > Het - Male/Female Views: 1749 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or it's characters, nor am I making money from this.

Chapter List
- 1-Unholy Devotion
- 2-Cht 2
- 3-Cht 3
- 4-Cht 4
- 5-Cht 5
- 6-Cht 6
- 7-Cht 7
- 8-Cht 8
- 9-Cht 9
- 3
- 4
- 5
A/N: This story is about to go AU to the extreme considering season 10 shat all over my plans. Fine with me. I fart in their general direction. Don't like Rowena anyway, so…she's not here. Neither's Metatron and lots of other things. js
Cht 4
Grainne's steely wit and conniving nature served her well. She stepped lightly down an alleyway and rapped smartly on the graffittied door. A low pulsing thump reverberated beyond, and it was a moment before someone cracked it open.
"Whaddya want," queried the bulldog-faced man who placed a meaty hand on the edge of the door and peered out. Seizing the opportunity, Grainne slammed the door on his hand, and yanked it open again. While he howled and clutched his broken hand, she waved her own hand over the air in front of him and muttered,"confringitis" as she passed. Behind her, the man began gasping and clutching his throat, writhing and kicking as he struggled for air.
Grainne strolled through, unconcerned as the man slumped against the wall and his eyes rolled back. Through the dark hallway she clipped, stiletto leather boots muffled against the pulsing beat of drums and synthesizers. She wove her way into the crowd, corseted top and dark jeans garnering second looks from the men nearby and appraising ones from the women. People parted as she approached, unconsciously making a trail for her as she wove her way toward a set of stairs along the back wall.
She wound up the iron spiral, her gaze on the landing above, one brow perched sardonically and a quirk of a smile on blood-red lips. Grainne peered through strawberry blond fringe at an older gentleman who crossed the landing, gliding through the sea of writhing dancing bodies seamlessly and disappearing through an electric blue steel door. Grainne trailed him, past waving glow sticks and an eerie black light glow. She laid a hand discreetly on the door and looked around. "Sine me audio," she said, her voice pitched under the thrum of music. Instantly, a tinny version of all the sounds inside the room entered her ears as though she was listening through the door. A muffled voice on the phone, the older man speaking, no extraneous voices. Good.
She opened the door and stepped in. The man she faced could have been a dead ringer for Christopher Plummer.
"Well, well," Grainne smiled, "what a place for a deacon." She tsked and stepped further into the room. Her eyes flashed grey-green. "Gambian, we should talk."

Meanwhile, states away, Castiel shuffled through a home that smelled strongly of werewolf. Garth had been true to his word and housed the angel with his new wife, nursing him as best he could while he and the missus pored over tome after tome of Garth's library of all things creepy. He had compiled scores of angel lore in the years since he had discovered there was such a thing, and luckily it was paying off.
"Oh my, oh my, oh my," Garth drawled. "Looky here, Castiel, I think we found your ticket back!" Castiel ambled over and perched on the edge of the battered armchair. It was a sketchy translation of an old Sanksrit text, and as his eyes skimmed over it they widened.
"This is a translation from Sanskrit, that was translated from Aramaic," Garth filled in. "It's another gospel that got deleted out of the biblical texts and lost in time," he went on. "It talks about the angel Berith."
"Berith was one of the fallen," Castiel supplied. "He was kicked out of heaven shortly after Lucifer, and became one of his demon followers. God took his grace and he died."
"According to this, he didn't die," Garth said, getting excited all over again. "According to this, he stole the grace of another angel and God meted out justice on him. He took Berith's grace and gave it to the angel whose grace he had stolen. "
"What?" Castiel gasped.
"The angel Dumah fought with Berith after the fall of Lucifer, because Berith rebelled with Lucifer. Berith said that if Dumah sided with the humans, he may as well be one. So he stole his grace, and Dumah became human; it says here he felt the pain and fever of falling."
"So I'm…falling?" Castiel reasoned out. "Wait! Dumah is still in heaven! He's a loner and no one talks about him much, he abstains from fighting."
"Now we know why," Garth drawled. "And," he stressed, "if you can find him, he can tell you how exactly God gave his grace back."
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Unholy Devotion