Maybe I'm Broken

Harlequinne is an Angel of Lust who has fallen from Heaven. Like the title of the book implies, it's really just drabble.

Harlequinne was currently hunched over the Winchester's toilet. Her hair was damp with sweat, and her breath was harsh and ragged. Harley had thrown up almost all of her stomach contents, and she was shocked that she was still spilling her cookies. Maybe she deserved this. Maybe the pain, the cramps, and the sickness were all due punishment for leaving Heaven and her duties. That didn't stop Harlequinne from hating every second of it. The whole process happened every week, normally just on two random days, but sometimes three or four. Harley felt her insides spasm again, and she collapsed onto the cool tiles, finger nails digging into palms with enough force to create crescent-shaped marks on her palms. She felt like begging to God, pleading and praying for it to stop. She must have prayed a little too hard, thought a little too loud, because the next thing Harley knew, there were heavy footsteps outside of the thin wooden door. Harlequinne winced. She hadn't told the Winchesters about these 'episodes', and she certainly didn't want them to find out like this.

 

"Harlequinne, are you okay? I could hear you praying." Came the voice from the hallway. It wasn't the voice of any Winchester, it was the voice of Castiel. Castiel, who wore his trench coat even in the warmest temperatures and couldn't understand pop-culture if his life depended on it.

 

"I-I'm fine." Harley said weakly from the floor. She felt her stomach tense again and she pulled her knees to her chest. Hot tears were running down her cheeks as Harlequinne cursed herself for being so weak. This happened frequently, shouldn't she be used to it by now? But Harley was never used to the sharp pain and the spasms and the blood-lust. That was the worst part of it, the feeling that she wanted to kill someone, something, just to be satisfied. "Please, just leave." Harley added quietly. Part of her hoped he wouldn't hear her, and stay. That's when she heard the knob turn, and the small inhale from Castiel as he saw Harlequinne as a shivering and sobbing mess, huddled into as tight a ball as she could manage and inwardly wondering why she had forgotten to lock the door.

 

"Harlequinne..." Castiel murmured, squatting next to the sick and tired woman. Her coffee-brown eyes were blood shot when they met Castiel's, which were blue and full of concern. There was a moment of silence before Harley threw up into the toilet again, this time blood was staining her lips and she didn't bother to wipe it off as she crumbled back to the ground. This time, Castiel caught her seconds before her head made contact with the hard bathroom floor.

 

"I d-don't know what's wrong with m-me." Harlequinne's shaky breathing caused her words to form in short bursts. Castiel furrowed his eyebrows and held her up against the sink. Harley's head rolled to the side, she couldn't find the energy to stop it.

 

"We need to take you to the brothers." Castiel stated. He stood up abruptly, leaving Harlequinne weakly reaching for the trench coat that was now floating just out of her reach.

 

"No!" She said brusquely, her throat hoarse and scratchy and stinging. "P-please. This happens all the time. I... I don't want then to know." Harlequinne bit her lip. It was embarrassing enough to be 'that Angel who dropped out of Heaven and now gives married men boners for entertainment', and she didn't want to add to that statement. Castiel just nodded, and much to Harley's surprise, he sat down next to her.

 

"Castiel?"

 

"Yes, Harlequine?"

 

"Can you... Can you tell me a story? In Enochian?"

 

"Of course."

 

And after five stories and seven glasses of water, Harlequinne was feeling drained. Her head was resting on Castiel's shoulder, so that her dark brown hair was spilling across his chest. The older Angel was in the middle of an adventurous tale when Harley dozed off, the last thing she sees are Castiel's shoes which are larger than hers. And that's the last thing she thinks before she slips into sleep, and even though Castiel is uncomfortable with the situation, he doesn't dare wake her.  

Author's Note

DRABBLE!