Theme Prompt - Judo

Kevin had taken himself to his bedroom after eating the mostly silent meal with Dean. He felt bad for the guy, especially after gaining a greater understanding of his relationship with Castiel from reading Chuck’s books. But they’d all lost someone and Kevin could only spare so much pity and sorrow. He was still mourning his mother and his girlfriend. However, there were things Kevin could do to take his mind off things.Things that required his complete and undivided attention.

Once he’d made the decision to stay in this world, Kevin had decided to learn how to fight. In his few dealings with demons, he’d gotten the upper hand sheerly out of luck and knowledge. If he was ever captured by Crowley or anyone again, Kevin wanted to be able to fight back. He’d looked up various forms of martial arts online and finally decided on Judo. Ever since then, he’d practiced the movements in his bedroom, away from Sam and Dean. It was better here than on Garth’s boat: no rocking to throw him off and he had a little bit more room. Slowly, Kevin had gotten better and more confident.

But, about halfway through the routine he’d set himself tonight, Kevin heard knocking. It was quiet and he almost missed it but Kevin had trained himself to listen to all the little noises. That one was definitely not one the bunker made on its own. Grabbing the water gun with holy water in it, Kevin moved silently back towards the living room area. But it wasn’t until he saw Dean just standing there, not fighting, that he finally relaxed. Whoever it was couldn’t be dangerous if Dean wasn’t doing anything.

Then Kevin’s mouth dropped open when Castiel walked in. He looked haggard, almost like he was about to fall over. His curiosity getting the better of him, Kevin stayed in the hallway and just listened. Chuck was definitely right about the epic stares going on between Castiel and Dean. The description in the books was exactly what was going on here. Then, Kevin’s questions as to whether there was anything else between them were partially answered: Dean rested his hand over Castiel’s to comfort him and the former angel turned his own to take Dean’s hand. When the hunter didn’t pull away, Kevin decided he’d seen enough. They weren’t talking anymore after all.

He headed back to his room just as silently, closing the door with a slight click. Dropping the water gun on his bed, Kevin just shook his head. Who knew that an angel and a human could hook up? Though, from what he’d overheard, Castiel wasn’t an angel anymore so maybe it was all right. Shrugging, Kevin started the routine he’d abandoned again. Chances were, he was going to need to know how to fight and soon.

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Metatron had finally satisfied himself by wandering through the garden. It was just as beautiful as he remembered, if not more. And it was so blessedly quiet here, no one to chase him away or capture him for his knowledge. He’d never imagined, when God had first chosen him to be the scribe, how dangerous the position would have become for him. It was calming to be back here and safe.

Plucking a hibiscus to take with him, Metatron left the garden to walk through some of the heavens. He still loved stories and wanted to hear some from the humans who had the privilege of being admitted here. The path he took brought him past Naomi’s office and Metatron didn’t fight the urge to gloat over her yet again. He pushed open the glass doors and froze in shock: Naomi had disappeared.

The blood pool was still there, though it had been disturbed. Two fingers were neatly outlined in the blood, as if someone had rest their hand on the desk and in the blood. The metal drill was resting next to the blood, the tip just touching the edges.

“Now who could have rescued you?” Metatron asked himself, walking slowly around the desk. “You couldn’t have done it on your own.”

Other than the blood, the room was still pristine. There was nothing on the desk that would explain what had happened to Naomi. Metatron finished his walk around the desk, checking underneath it. There was a single red thread on the floor, just underneath the chair Naomi had been sitting in. Metatron picked it up and stared at it. It was incongruous and definitely did not belong.

“And where are you from?” Metatron murmured. He stretched out his senses, reading that the thread came from a bandana and was carried by a human soul. Something about the soul was different than the others Metatron had ever seen; it resonated with knowledge and power. Learning all he could, Metatron put the thread in a pocket and walked out through the glass doors. That was when the rubbed-out chalk on the outer door caught his attention. He could barely read the top sigil, which was one used for travelling.

And suddenly, it made sense though he still didn’t know why or who. A soul had gained the knowledge to travel in Heaven using Enochian. That soul must have found Naomi and taken her. Metatron sighed as he felt the calm and serenity flow away. This meant that he would have to fight after all. No matter what the soul’s intentions, it couldn’t be allowed to continue whatever it was doing. Naomi was the only other angel up here and the only threat to him. Grumbling under his breath, Metatron memorized the lines of the rubbed-away sigils. He couldn’t make out the destination just yet but, now that he knew someone could travel, he would be watching for them.

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Pam felt the last of her energy wane as there was finally movement in the body below her hands. It was small, more of a shiver than anything, but it was there. The golden light flowing from her palms cut out and Pam collapsed to the floor. She waved off Jo and Ash, who let go of Naomi’s limbs to come help her.

“It’s okay, just exhausted,” Pam explained tiredly, covering her mouth momentarily as she yawned. Naomi’s body continued to twitch and shiver, as if it was resetting itself. Sarah was still holding her head still, the bloody bandanas to either side. The hole in the back of Naomi’s head had mostly healed and visibly continued to do so. It wasn’t until a high-pitched whine filled the Roadhouse that Pam mustered enough strength to stand.

“She’s coming back,” Pam said urgently, pulling at Sarah’s arms to get her to let go. “We need to get out of this room. I don’t think she can control her powers and I don’t want my eyes burned out again.”

Everyone darted into the back room, which actually stood empty here as it was only used for stock back on Earth. The whining increased until everyone was covering their ears and wincing at the sound. It felt like being physically hit, the power of it bowing their shoulders. Finally, the sound stopped and a shuffling was heard. Pam was the first to uncurl herself and head back out the door, stopping when she saw Naomi standing next to the pool table.

“I assume I have you to thank for my deliverance,” Naomi said smoothly, adjusting her suit jacket. As she brushed her hands over the material, all the wrinkles and bloodstains disappeared. “I thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Pam replied, nodding at the angel. She half-turned as footsteps told her the others had come out of the back room. “Ash here was the one who convinced me to get you. Apparently, you have a problem and we might be able to help.”

“Do tell,” Naomi replied, interest in her eyes. She settled onto one of the stools next to the bar, all her attention on Pam. “I fear that I will need all the help I can get.”