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Black And Blue Compassion
Title: Black And Blue Compassion
Rating: PG
Pairing: Kid!Cas/OC
Spoilers: Not that I can think of, I'm bad at that kind of thing
Word Count: 1,444
Summary: Krys meets a strange boy in the park she'll never forget.
Notes: Not Beta'd, first time at a kid!fic, second attempt at a Supernatural fic. Title inspired by "Ticks & Leeches" by Tool
I may do a sequel at a later time. I usually take about 2 months before I come back to a fic and decide to do a sequel, but I really don't want this to be the end of these two!

I never post my fics on here but meh, might as well start. Tumblr is judgemental city so I'll host my lighter fanfiction on here. (◕‿◕✿) Plus I don't want my head bitten off for pairing Cas with an OC... not pretty.

Nobody knew about Krys's friend. She was scared to tell anybody about the boy at the park that had saved her life. He was about her age, but acted beyond his years. He had shaggy brown hair, crystal blue eyes, and a stone expression. But most of all, he wasn't human. This fact - or even just having someone tell you that they weren't your species - would have been enough to send most people running off in the other direction.

But not Krys. She found it interesting, intruiging, something she was amazed at. Most 12 year olds weren't really in the otherworldly - not unless they wanted their face shoved into a toilet or their underwear pulled so far up over their head it could be used as a hat. She loved reading books on things like conspiracy theories and ancient mythology, everything her peers couldn't stand. She considered herself non religious, along with the rest of her family, but still found great interests in reading about religion.

So when she saw the boy sitting on a swing, wearing a white long sleeved t-shirt, jeans, and an oversized tan trenchcoat, the bible in one hand, the Quran in the other, she just had to go up and talk to him. 

"Why are you reading both?" she inquired. The boy looked up, startled. His eyes were wide and shining, his mouth slightly open. The air in front of him became visible as he exhaled into the winter air. 

"Just wanted to compare this one," he held up the Quran, "to my father's teachings," he said in a quiet, monotonous voice. 

Intrigued, Krys sat down on the empty swing next to him. Her feet kicked at the ground, causing the swing to rock back and forth slowly. A gust of cold wind hit them, causing dead leaves to swirl around the swingset. There weren't many people there, just a few mothers with very small children. "What do you mean by that?" she asked the boy.

He sighed. "My father wrote the bible," he claimed, his voice never changing. "I'm not supposed to tell anyone, but it's not like any human would believe me." His face dropped as he set the holy books next to him on the blacktop. 

"It's okay, I won't tell anyone, I promise", Krys assured him, smiling. "What's your name?" 

"I'm Castiel," he said, his gaze focused on the ground. He gripped the metal chains that kept the swings attatched, swaying front to back, gaining momentum at a painfully slow pace. "Yours?" Castiel asked, not looking up.

"Krystel, but everyone calls me Krys." Playing along, she inquired, "So... no human would believe your dad wrote the bible... If you're not human, then what's that make you?" 

Abruptly, Castiel put both feet down on the blacktop, causing his swing to come to a full stop. "I'm sorry Krys, I gotta go," he announced, a hint of fear in his voice.

Krys looked around. The few people that were still there were packing up to leave. Mothers were wrangling up their toddlers and strapping them into their strollers. The sun would be going down soon, and Krys knew that if she came home any later than sundown, her mother would throw a fit. "I should too," she told him. She slid off her swing and turned to walk down the dirt path that took her home. She looked over her shoulder to say goodbye to Castiel, but he had already vanished. Strange boy, she thought to herself. 

It was a 10 minute walk to get home. Krys lived in a nice neighborhood in suburban Baltimore. Very family friendly, quiet neighbors, and the worst thing to happen here in the past 20 years was a few rowdy teenagers who uprooted a few mailboxes in 2007. So when Krys noticed a strange looking man pacing around about a hundred yards up the pathway, it was immediate cause for alarm. 

The man was wearing a button-up plaid shirt and ironed khakis. His hair was brown with hints of gray in it. Mid forties most likely. He was frantically walking back and forth, muttering obscenities and incoherent phrases. Krys kept walking towards him, hoping he'd keep walking.

But as she got closer and closer, he didn't. He stayed there pacing. She stepped on a particularly loud leaf, which crunched and crumbled underneath her white sneaker. The man stopped and whipped his head in her direction. And that's when she saw it. His eyes were completely black. 

Krys stumbled backward and screamed. She ran in the other direction, trying desperately not to trip over her untied shoelaces. His footsteps echoed off the bare-branched hedges that lined the dirt path. She'd never been scared of supernatural things when she read about them, but now that she was faced with one, she was terrified. She wanted her mom, her brother, anyone. 

Then she noticed what had just materialized a few feet in front of her. Unfortunately, she noticed a few seconds too late and found herself crashing into Castiel, sending him flying backwards on to the dirt pathway. He was different than before , and it took her no time to notice the huge change - he had black, feathery wings extending out from behind him, each wing being about two and a half feet in width. 

Despite the anomaly, she was relieved to see even a slightly familiar face. Castiel wrapped his wings around her and drew her close. The man with the black eyes stood over them. Krys couldn't see him, but she could feel it. He gave off a general sense of fear. But Castiel seemed fearless. He reached out his palm and seconds later, she heard the man cry out. Krys looked over her shoulder and saw the man stand up, brush himself, off and sneer at Castiel. "Filthy angels..." he muttered before taking off running down the path. 

Krys felt the feathers disappear around her. She looked up to make sure Castiel had stayed too, and to her relief, he was, now sitting cross legged to face her. She rubbed her head and said "So... you're angel? That's really cool."

Finally showing emotion, Castiel smiled sadly. "It's not as cool as you'd you think," he sighed. "I mean I've got those demons hating me and my family all the time. We leave them alone, but since sometimes we come to Earth... well, they don't like that. So they try and hurt me. But demons are vicious, they'll go after anyone. Sorry he attacked you like that though."

Krys smiled. "You were there to help me though, you protected me. People don't ever do that," she stated.

The young angel cocked his head to the side. "Why not?" he asked. "Don't people like you? You're really friendly."

She shook her head and looked down. "I get picked on alot because I don't like what the other kids like," she told him, fighting back tears. "I get beat up by the older kids at school who think reading about scary things is stupid." She looked up and saw that the sun had nearly set. She shot up. "Oh no, my mom's gonna be so mad, I won't make it home in time for sunset."

Castiel stood up, brushed the dirt off his trench coat, and with a loud woosh, his wings extended out. He slowly wrapped them around her. "Shut your eyes," he whispered. 

"Okay," she whispered back, clamping her eyes shut. She felt a large blast of wind and in seconds, the wings were gone from around her. She opened her eyes again and found herself at her front door. She went to thank Castiel, but the boy had disappeared again. Saddened, she walked through the front door and greeted her mom. 

All through dinner, the usually talkative Krys stayed silent, even after being kicked under the table by her brother. She couldn't stop thinking about the boy angel who had shielded her from that demon. When it came time for bed, she pulled the covers tightly over her. For the first time ever, she was scared of the things that might go bump in the night. 

As she tossed and turned restlessly, she felt a weight next to her on the bed, as if someone had sat down there. She rolled over and saw the outline of a boy in a trenchcoat, wings oustretched. She heard him whisper, "Goodnight, Krys." 

But she blinked once, and he was gone. All that was left was a black feather laying in the spot where the angel had just sat. She grabbed the feather, clutched it to her chest and shut her eyes.

"Goodnight, Castiel."


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