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The man, with the frayed and mud splotched trench coat, was running and running, tripping and stumbling and throwing his hands out to stop himself from falling. He kept looking behind his shoulder, putting on more burst of speed as the trampling and snapping of branches could be herd getting closer, his sky blue eyes wide with fear.

You knew he could fly, so why wasn’t he?

You wanted to scream at him, scream and shout yourself hoarse until he flew away. But your mouth was sown shut with a thin glossy thread. Small lines of crimson dripped down your lips and chin, and you started to franticly claw at the thin threads, but they wouldn’t budge. You tried and tried, only looking up once your hands were soaked in your own blood.

But it didn’t bother you. Instead you started to stumble through the dark forest, reaching out your hand to the man who was running and running as the smashing of broken and branches got closer.

The man looked up at you, his sky blue eyes wide. You gestured for him to follow, and when he held out his hand for you to take you finally noticed. On his back the faint out line of wings blacker than ebony, broken and torn and frayed and twisted sat. That was why he couldn’t fly.

You stretched out your arm further, ignoring the sudden growth of bracken and brush that was trying to separate you, and when you brushed your fingertips against his, he was yanked back with such force that you could here more bones in his wings snapping.

You clawed your way through the bracken and brush, but it simply swallowed you whole again.

You woke with a start; eyes wide as you gasped for air, taking sharp shallow breaths. Your eyes darted around the room wildly, and your hands flew up to your lips. There was no blood and there was no thread, and slowly you calmed down, and when there was no panic coursing through you the first thing your registered was the smell of bacon.

You looked through the archway to the kitchen, where Gabriel was looking at you with concern, a fork in hand and a handle of a skillet in the other. Yes, the angel could snap a whole Chinese’s buffet into existence, but he really liked to cook, so who were you to tell him no?

“You okay?” He asked, setting the fork down and making his way over to your room, pushing the rest of the sheet out of the way.

6 months had passed since Gabriel had shown up in your apartment, and in those 6 months you had agreed to your prophet duties (with much argument) and Gabriel had completely redone your apartment (“It’s just so blah!” “I’m going to an expensive as hell academy on a scholarship, what else do you think my apartment is going to be?”). He snapped and popped things into existence, rearranged what little you had and then got rid of it, and by the end of the day you had your own little space and your apartment actually looked like an apartment.

You didn’t have door though, as Gabriel was too lazy and you didn’t know how to put them up, so you just used sheets. It wasn’t really that big of a deal either, as Gabriel (finally) knew what personal space was.

“I just, uh, had that dream again.” You replied, scooting over so Gabriel had room to sit.

You had been having that dream for a while now, and as soon as it started you had told Gabriel (more like he dragged it out of you, but what’s the difference?).

“We’ll figure it out.” Gabriel, being the child he was, held up his pinky. “Promise.”

“Okay.” You smiled, linking your pinky with his, and when all was said and done he ran back to the kitchen once he realized he still had bacon on the stove. You shook your head when he ran into the table, and once he was back at the stove you threw you own blankets off to pull the sheet back over your door and got ready for school.

Your school uniformed consisted of a navy blue skirt, black tie and white button up shirt. You usually added a belt or necklace, just to keep things new (you weren’t huge of fashion, but you didn’t want to look bland either). You walked out, finished the knot in your tie, and then took the plate of food Gabriel handed you.

“You sure you’re feeling well enough to go?” Gabriel asked. He always asked this question whenever you had your dreams before you went to school (he had grown rather protective of you).

“I’m fine.” You said, picking up yours and his plates and throwing them in the sink. “It’s not like I went all Oracle of Delphi on you.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes and held out his hand. “Come on.”

You smiled and took it, and then in a swish of feathers you were gone.

You came to stop at the front of your school building, and before you could take a step towards the doors Gabriel was gone (he never stayed long, as he didn’t want people wondering where he went to quickly). You slipped in and out of the crowed milling by the gates, only stopping when you reached the door.

“This would be a lot easier if you just used the picture.”

You turned around, hand still on the handle. Two men were standing at the foot of the stairs, both in suits and arguing. The taller one, who had just spoken, was frowning at the other, who was glaring.

“I’m not going to use it Sam.”

“Why?” The other one–Sam-asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s just a picture Dean.”

“Because I’m in it!” He waved his wallet in front of Sam’s face, letting out a shriek as the taller took it from his hands. He then pocketed it, dodging Dean as he tried to tackle him. They then both looked up at you, whether it was by accident or not, and you flushed and quickly ran inside.

The bell rang quickly after that, and once everyone had filed into his or her seats the teacher made an announcement.

“We have some visitors with us today.” She said, quickly drawing everyone’s attention. “Two federal agents are here to intestate a missing persons case, and are using the principles office to conducted interviews. They will call in random students at random times, and if you have seen the man there trying to find then they urge you to come see them.” She then gave off a description of the missing man, and you felt your blood run cold.

He sounded just like the man from your dream, right down to the trench coat and eyes.

But that couldn’t be-

You shook your head. You may be a prophet, but there was no way this was linked to your dream. A man had gone missing, and that was all.

Classes had gone on normally after that, with the usual push and shove and jeering comment from you classmates. You ignored it all, and when it had come to the last 10 minutes of the last class you had been called down to the office.

You had found yourself frozen in your seat.

Did they know? But that was, how could they? Was it because they caught you staring? Or-

“(Name).” Your teacher cleared his throat. You flushed ever so slightly, muttered an apology, grabbed your laptop and book bag and rushed out of the class and down the hall.

You reached the office fairly quickly, and you took a deep breath before you pushed open the door.

There was a brief moment of recognition between the three of you, and then the taller of the two, Sam you remembered, stood and held out his hand. “I’m Agent Smith, and he’s agent…Smith.”

“No relation.” The other, Dean, grumbled.

“I’m (Name).” You smiled and shook Sam’s hand. You saw similarities in their faces and the way they acted, but you didn’t say anything. If they were undercover than you weren’t going to point it out.

The two of you then sat down. Dean told them the man they were looking for was named Castiel Winchester (Gabriel had told you that he thought the man in your dreams was Castiel, so this wasn’t new), and then he gave the same description that the teacher had given you.

You stayed silent for a while, twiddling your thumbs and shifting in your seat. When Sam had asked you if you had seen him you took a deep breath. It was now or never. “I’m not quite-can I see a picture?”

Dean scowled, and after a pointed look from Sam he slapped a picture down on the table.

There was Castiel, smiling and happy while Dean slung his arm around his shoulder, the biggest grin on his face. It was the perfect moment to capture on film, and you would have told Dean that it was adorable if you weren’t so focused on the picture.

It was him. It was the man in your dream.

You were staring at it for so long that Sam went to ask if you were okay, but before he could get the words out the door flew open.

“(Name), you didn’t-“ Gabriel blinked. “Sammy!”

“Gabriel?” Sam blinked.

“Your alive?!” Dean shouted.

“Alive as can be.” Gabriel smirked. “What are you doing here anyway? There’s no demon within 50 miles, and I’m pretty sure the ghost in Ms. Perkins apartment isn’t dangerous.”

“They’re looking for him.” You mumbled.

Gabriel sobered up fast. “Did you tell them?”

You shook your head.

Gabriel sighed. “Well Winchesters, you better come with us then.”