Chapter 139 : Angel Death
The angel stared at Henry in utter confusion. He had driven an angel blade straight through Henry’s heart.
Even an abomination that was half-human and half-angel should have died from such a wound — an angel blade was created to kill angels.
"Well, looks like the cat’s out of the bag now," Henry said calmly. "Now I really can’t let you leave alive."
"Hmph. I wasn’t planning to leave either. It is my duty as a soldier of Heaven to remove filth from God’s world," the angel replied coldly.
"Then come on. Let’s see who’s stronger — me or your so-called God’s bullshit angels."
The angel’s face twisted with rage. Without another word, he lunged forward with the angel blade.
Henry kept one hand hidden behind his back, concealing his own blade as he waited for the right moment.
The angel’s strike landed first. The blade plunged deep into Henry’s stomach, drawing a spray of blood. Henry staggered, blood spilling from the corner of his mouth — yet a grin slowly spread across his face.
"You’re screwed, little chicken," Henry growled.
Before the angel could react, Henry surged forward instead of retreating. He grabbed the angel in a crushing embrace, preventing any escape, and drove his hidden blade deep into the angel’s back.
The angel’s eyes widened. A blinding pillar of white light erupted from his body, eyes and mouth glowing with divine radiance as agonized screams echoed through the area.
"AAAAAHHHHH!"
The light exploded outward, forcing Henry to shut his eyes.
He released the angel, whose lifeless body crashed onto the ground. Moments later, the glowing mark of burned wings appeared where the body lay — the unmistakable sign of an angel’s true death.
"Well... that was hard..." Henry muttered as he sank onto the ground.
It was fortunate that he wasn’t a full angel. Otherwise the blade could have killed him outright.
Even so, the blade had done serious damage to the angelic power flowing through his body.
The wound in his chest was already beginning to heal, but the damage to his heart wasn’t something his regeneration could restore instantly.
"Time to do your work, Mark of Ether," Henry muttered.
The glowing mark pulsed, accelerating his healing, though the pain remained intense.
"I should get out of here." He forced himself back to his feet. "An angel just died. The others will sense it soon, and they won’t take long to investigate."
***
Later that night, Castiel arrived at the scene. The body of the fallen angel still lay where it had collapsed, the blackened wings burned into the earth beneath it marking an angel’s true death.
Uriel stepped beside him, his expression hard.
"Didn’t I tell you, Castiel? Your way of doing things is too soft. We should have destroyed that Winchester the moment we found him. He’s clearly not human."
Castiel’s eyes remained on the dead angel.
"My orders are to stop the Seals from being broken and aid the Winchesters in doing so, not to kill them."
Uriel looked down at the corpse. "Then explain this. If I remember correctly, you assigned our brother to watch the Winchesters. Now he’s dead." He frowned at the burned wings.
"There isn’t a weapon on Earth that can kill an angel."
Castiel crouched beside the body, examining the wound without speaking for several moments.
"Henry Winchester may possess abilities beyond those of an ordinary human," he finally said. "But he is still human. A human cannot kill an angel."
"Then who did?" Uriel asked.
Castiel slowly stood. "I do not know. Our brother was sent to observe, not engage. Until we know what happened, speculation serves no purpose."
Uriel’s jaw tightened. "Or perhaps you’re refusing to see what’s right in front of you. That Winchester is an abomination."
"The moment we descended, I said he shouldn’t have been allowed to exist. He is no different from the monsters we hunt."
"My orders have not changed," Castiel replied evenly. "Neither have yours."
Uriel let out a quiet scoff. "For now." He looked once more at the dead angel before turning away.
"I’ll judge the boy for myself soon enough. If he’s as important as you believe, we’ll find out. If he isn’t..." He left the sentence unfinished.
Castiel remained where he was, staring at the burned wings. Angels did not simply die on Earth — and if a force capable of killing one had appeared, it threatened far more than the Winchesters.
"The heck are we running from?" Dean asked as he drove the Impala out of town. "Did something happen?"
"Just drive," Henry replied weakly. "Drop me off where Madison and Bela are. I think... I’m going to need a break."
Sam turned in his seat and studied him. Henry had been covered in blood when he returned, barely able to stand, yet he had only told them to leave immediately.
"Henry... are you hiding something from us?" Sam asked.
Henry leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes. "For now... I can’t tell you anything. I just need some rest."
Before either brother could say another word, exhaustion finally caught up with him. His breathing slowed as he drifted into an uneasy sleep.
Sam looked back at Dean. "Dean, he’s hiding something. Ever since he came back, something’s been off."
Dean kept his eyes on the road. "I see it."
"Then why aren’t you pushing him?"
"Because I know Henry." Dean glanced briefly at the sleeping figure before looking back at the highway.
"If he’s keeping his mouth shut, there’s a reason for it. He’s proved enough times that he’s on our side. He’s family, Sam. When he’s ready, he’ll tell us."
Sam didn’t know what to say. He was hiding plenty of things from Dean himself. He only hoped the day would come when he could tell Dean the whole truth without losing his brother.
*****
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