“Oh I don’t think you want to know that,” Sam sighed. The past days had been hectic, action filled (not the cool kind) and bloody as hell. He watched as she put all the candy on the table and laughed,
“Haven’t been at your parent’s house in forever huh? Hungry?” he chuckled teasingly. He was about to reach for a candy bag when he spotted her hands for half a second and grabbed her hand before she could pull it away.
“What’s this?” Sam asked, voice raised a little. He knew those kinds of scars a little too well.
"T-that? These? They’re, they’re nothing Sam really…" Meri stuttered, trying to tug her wrists out of Sam’s strong grip. It wasn’t working, he seemed all too focused on getting to the bottom of why she could have done this. She should have known this would happen, he’d see them, she’d slip up, Sam wasn’t stupid. He knew how she got those, he just wanted to know why, and Meri. Meri didn’t feel like talking about it anymore.
“No. I don’t care, I want to see you again. We are friends.” Meri said stubbornly, her arms crossed over her chest as she stared Bela down. She knew she wasn’t very intimidating but she knew how to play up the puppy dog eyes pretty good. She was the little girl of the family, all her neighbors were boys and all her cousins.
She didn’t care if staying friends with Bela possibly meant getting hurt or killed, Bela needed a friend and Meri liked her. She doesn’t want Bela running away, not taking risks, she needs someone to laugh and have fun with. And Meri wants to be that someone.
Bela froze and looked over at Meri with sad eyes. She walked over and placed a hand on the girls shoulder. “Please, Meri. Please. Just trust me on this one. I can’t tell you. Just let me have this one. Forget I said anything. Please…” Bela was pleading with her. Meri just had to let this one go…
Meri looked at her, her lips forming a pout and her large brown eyes widening as they welled with tears. “B-Bela, don’t you want to be friends with me. Can’t I have any say?” And with that her stomach growled, but she ignored it, trying not to break the puppy dog eyes as she swallowed down some giggles.
Meri froze at the sound of his voice, she took her hands from his shoulders, clasping them behind her. “I-I was just massaging your shoulders to help you look more at ease, you’ll attract attention with the way you are standing. You look as if you’re…
"I intend to introduce myself as Michael. That is who I am." Viceroy, first of God’s creations - all of his various titles could follow. But not immediately, if the girl’s insistence was any indication. She did seem fairly disbelieving when he first explained himself…
Persistent thing, though, wasn’t she? Michael sighed shortly through his nose and nodded stiffly. “Very well. I will attempt to be less noticeable in my behavior while I am among you. More…relaxed, as you put it?”
"Yes, more relaxed, like you aren’t in a body that isn’t yours. Be at ease, as if you are comfortable in your own skin." America knew she sounded slightly hypocritical, seeing as most humans hated the way they look and always wished to be different in someway. Personally though, America couldn’t see herself looking any other way, this is who she was, and even though she was incredibly insecure and self-conscious, she wouldn’t change anything about herself.
Meri cocked a perfectly shaped eyebrow at Micheletto, when he was thinking of coming to Texas, it didn’t even run through his mind to consider the heat, and the amount of people? That’s usually what stopped most people she’s met who once considered going on vacation to Texas.
The closer they got to the church the more rural their surroundings changed, and the more the people thinned out. For example they were currently the only one’s walking on a wide dirt path, they walked pass various farms and ranches. The steeple of the little with church was high in the sky. It was positioned on a grass covered hill, that behind it was located a lake that got water from a medium sized stream, and with the direction they were coming from, which was the left side of the church, they passed the cemetery that went for about four miles back, but beyond the hill, beyond the cemetery, possibly six miles back from the road they stood on now was the field, the field of flowers and rolling hills, all very picturesque.
It’s pretty, sure. But Micheletto has seen better - or maybe he’s just being picky now to spite Miss Cheerful And Friendly over there. He eyes her, trailing a little closer than is necessary, pondering his next move. What he’s thinking of doing would be a cruel jape, a laugh only worth something for a few minutes, but the girl should really learn that you can’t just trust people. You can’t just accomodate everyone.
He’s only doing her a favour, after all. So lightly, he says, “This is beautiful, sure. But let me ask you something. Have you ever thought about what Heaven might look like?” He keeps his voice light, curious, only just probing.
"No, actually. I enjoy living in the moment, my heaven is currently on earth, where ever my family is." Her back had straightened at the question, the way he asked had cause shivers to run up her spine. "Well, it was real nice to meet you Micheletto, but I have to bring this mail to my Pastor and I have showed you where the park was, so goodbye." Meri turned around to leave, she was becoming a bit frightened by Micheletto now.
She wasn’t being rude, she was avoiding a disagreement. “I ain’t being rude, Miss. Bela Talbot. I just have this strong desire to get home and into my pool, sorry if that ain’t suiting you well.” She snapped out, the heat causing her to get irritated quickly, now she was being rude, but it was so hot out, and Bela and her will most likely have another fight if they kept talking. Especially with the day Meri had. Her accent was stronger than ever and she pretty sure it was the first time she ever spoke with it around Bela.
She had been laying out in the sun in her back yard lately, so her skin had shaded to a deep gold, bordering on brown. Her light brown hair had been sun-kissed to a soft golden blonde and the freckles that littered her nose and cheeks were more prominent now. She stood with her hands on her hips, all cowgirl sass.
She knew she must be acting different to Bela, but she really did want to get home, Meri wanted to go swimming and have some iced tea.
Bela raised an eyebrow and resisted the urge to smirk at Meri’s southern sass. Bela shook her head and raised her hands, a gesture of surrender. “I’m not stopping you. You are just usually the first person to say hello. Apparently it’s easier for you to forgive people who nearly rape you than it is to say hello to me.” Bela gave a half hearted shrug. “Fair enough.”
Bela brought the drink to her lips once more and refused to look at Meri. It’s not that she didn’t want the girl’s friendship. But she refused to pander to Meri’s attitude. Bela was Bela. Nothing was going to change that.
Meri fumed, and not just because of the heat. She was so hot she could smell herself grilling. “I never realized just how big of a bitch you are.” She couldn’t believe she said that, she hadn’t called anyone that since high-school when some cheerleader stole her best-friend’s boyfriend. Meri did feel bad yes, but at the same time, kind of light and happy, as if she had needed to insult her, or at least someone.
"Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a pool to go swimming in." Turning on her heal, suddenly wishing she had on some cowgirl boots, she walked down the street, her hips swinging with emphasis, they usually swung naturally like every woman’s, but now they had that country sass moving them, she was born for cowboy boots.
“Not disturbing,” Micheletto shakes his head. It isn’t as if he wants to encourage behaviour like this, but confrontation with no purpose isn’t as entertaining as it seems, so in the event that all that goodness is a facade hiding an extremely angry, crazy person, he’s playing relatively nice. He doesn’t generally abhor people to the point of refusing simple conversation with them, anyway; he thinks he’s softer to them, thanks to the memory of being one, to keeping his name. Micheletto knew a lot of remarkable humans.
(Ones he was sorely disappointed to never meet in hell, but he suspects Cesare went to Heaven by virture of being the Pope’s son.)
“Micheletto.” It seems he’s been introducing himself to a lot of people lately. Comes with the territory of being new in town. He waits a beat. “If your mama gave you that advice, you really should listen to it. You never know what dangerous strangers you could come across.” He glances down at the pet-store fish, adding sourly, “I hear there’s a man who doesn’t like fish.”
"That’s a very nice name, Micheletto. Is that Spanish?" She had a feeling it was if not, it was most likely Italian. One of her father’s patient’s name had been Micheletto, and he had been from Spain. So America was assuming the name was Spanish, but she could be wrong, it could be Italian too.
"Oh, who?" Why would a man who happens to not like fish be any threat to her? She’s not a fish. Maybe it’s Micheletto, he is glaring at the fish, but he doesn’t seem dangerous, he isn’t hurting her or scaring her. Therefore she felt no reason to fear him.
Meri swallowed the tears that were climbing up her throat. She pasted a smile on her face, nodding as she tried to understand what Bela was saying. “Okay, Bela. I-I think the kettle is starting to whistle.” Her heart was pounding with pain as she stood up and escaped to her little kitchen. She stared at the kettle, waiting for the water to hit the full boil.
She busied herself by taking out two mugs and placing them on the counter, she continued by getting out the sugar jar, and the milk carton. Her hands shook softly, but she stopped them, keeping control on her emotions then burying them inside. She couldn’t show she was upset, she had to be happy. Bela was just trying to be nice, Bela’s feelings were much more important than America’s. America had to respect Bela and privacy, she shouldn’t have kept pushing her, it was wrong and unkind.
America internally punished herself for being so rude and inconsiderate, as the kettle whistled she poured the water into the mugs, placing in the bags. She let them soak for about five minutes before chucking them in the garbage, and adding milk and sugar to the drinks. She took a deep breath, and smiled brightly as she walked back out into the dining room, placing the coffee in Bela’s hands as she took her seat beside her, but moving back over to where she had been before. Quietly taking a sip of her drink she refrained from looking at Bela, knowing that if she did the pain and the butterflies would come back, or just resurface from where she had buried them inside of her.
Bela mentally kicked herself for making Meri upset. Of course, Meri got upset easily but still. She let Meri run away for a moment before she massaged her temples slowly. Her visit from Crowley this morning was still on her mind…
Meri walked back in with the drinks and set them on the table. Bela watched her carefully for a moment before leaning closer and taking the other woman’s hand. “Listen to me, Meri. I’m grateful, really I am, that you want to help. But… but some of the things I’ve seen… some of the things that have happened to me…” Bela took a deep breath and lowered her head for a moment. “There are no words, Meri. And certainly none that you would understand,” Bela smiled slightly.
In truth, Bela was just scared. Scared of revealing herself. Scared of admitting too much. Scared of dragging this innocent woman into something she didn’t deserve.
Meri looked down at where Bela was holding her hand, wishing it wasn’t due to pity. “Please, just try.” Her voice was soft and gently, she tightened her grip on Bela’s hand, not wanting to let go too soon. She slipped her bottom lip between her teeth quickly, looking into Bela’s eyes hopefully.
Whatever was in Bela’s past couldn’t be that bad, and it was deffinatley not bad enough to make Meri dislike her, Meri already liked her so much, so much it hurt, it felt as if her heart had shattered into a million pieces when Bela had pushed her away just minutes before. And once again, Meri had started thinking about herself, while she had a distraught, and scared Bela right in front of her, she was becoming more selfish by each day.
Her parents just bloomed at the compliment given to their daughter, immediately thanking him for being so kind and welcoming to the church. After a few more minutes of idle chit chat, her parents were called away from the couple by a few of the elders. Meri just laughed, and promised to meet up with them after the service.
With her hand back in Castiel’s she led him around, introducing him, and trying to make him feel welcomed and comfortable.
“After the service, I promise to introduce you to Pastor Louis. You’ll like him, everybody does.”
That’s when the bells rang, and America smiled. She loved the bells, she imagined the angels in Heaven blowing their horns when the bells of their little church rang, it always warmed her heart and her spirit. America brought Castiel into the church, it was a little warm inside, but they had opened the beautiful stained glass windows, depicting the life of Jesus, open to let in the cool breeze. America sat down in the front row, pulling Castiel down beside her. She pulled two bibles out of her bag, knowing Castiel most likely didn’t have one with him, and placed one of them into his hands.
Admittedly, walking into a church for the first time since his excursion as a new God is a lot more nerve wracking than standing outside thinking about how beautiful it is here. Castiel is sure his palms are sweating, but the fact he doesn’t burst into flame is a good sign (although he remembers the heat of breaking apart, the pew buckling and cracking under his weight) and the Bible that America hands over to him helps.
He runs his fingers against the cover. The ratio of fact-to-fiction varies between denominations in the church. The most truth isn’t found in religious texts at all, but rather lore books, the sort that Bobby Singer used to own. Still, the Winchester gospels are selectively truth and fiction, too. Prophets and their ilk have far too much tendency to get creative.
Castiel swallows, his throat dry, and then smiles tightly at America, casting his eyes up to the front after he’s collected himself.
Pastor Louis stepped up to the altar, beginning the service. America gave Castiel a hand squeeze when she caught sight of how nervous he seemed to be, as if he was expecting to be burned right there on the spot.
The service lasted an hour, between many psalms, communion, and the sermon, it had been one of Pastor Louis’s best actually. America looked over at Castiel from the corner of her eyes, a smile gracing her face as she saw his transfixed look. With a loud amen, being sung by the entire congregation, the service ended and everybody started to gather their things and put on their jackets. America linked her fingers with Castiel, and nudged him with her shoulder, wondering if he liked the service.