To my astonishment, as I cautiously opened my eyes, I found myself suspended in mid-air, the ground still elusively out of reach. Castiel's voice, dripping with calm assurance, washed over me, pulling me from the grip of terror. "I've got you," he cooed softly.

With a mix of relief and indignation, I shrugged myself out of his grasp. "You should have caught me sooner!" I protested, my voice trembling with a potent mix of fear and frustration.

His wounded expression pierced through me, yet I couldn't bring myself to yield. His tousled trench coat fluttered in the wind, its black fabric dancing in a strangely familiar manner. I shook off the eerie sense of déjà vu, focusing instead on my immediate anger towards Castiel's seemingly delayed intervention.

"I was inches away from death, and you didn't think to catch me before?" I accused, pushing aside the strange flicker of recognition that momentarily seized my thoughts. Though I knew a part of me should be grateful that he had saved me at all, I couldn't deny the lingering resentment.

Castiel's gaze softened, his eyes holding a glimmer of sorrow. "I wasn't going to let you come to harm," he whispered, his voice gentle. His words were meant to pacify, but they only served to ignite a surge of frustration within me.

"I appreciate the gesture, but it would have been better if you had done so earlier," I sighed, quickly retracting my earlier accusation. Despite my reluctance to trust him completely, there was a lingering sense of dependence that I could not shake off. "I'm sorry," I muttered, my voice laced with genuine remorse. "Thank you for catching me, regardless." His nod, though simple, carried a weight of understanding and forgiveness.

Pushing aside the recent near-death experience, I shifted the conversation towards the pressing matters that had brought us together. "I thought demons were conspiring against me?" I prodded, my tone now tinged with curiosity. The landscape around us, an expanse of open field scattered with trees and vibrant wildflowers, mirrored the newfound sense of freedom that had flooded through me when I unleashed my wings.

"They were indeed, but once we took flight, they lost track of our whereabouts," Castiel explained, his eyes scanning the surroundings. The serene tranquility of the scene contrasted starkly with the looming dangers we had just escaped. 

"Can I have some answers now?" I pleaded, locking my gaze with his, an intensity burning in my eyes.

A heavy sigh escaped Castiel's lips, carrying with it a sense of profound apology. "Soon, Essence, I promise. But for now, I must urgently contact someone." Before I could respond, he vanished into thin air, leaving me alone and seething with frustration.

Uttering a frustrated cry, I vented my anger, directed both at myself and the enigmatic being who claimed to be an angel. The air seemed to carry my exasperation, amplifying the intensity of my emotions.

I ran my hands through my hair, desperately trying to mimic the elegant motions of a bird in flight. But my wings, instead of soaring gracefully, flapped awkwardly and without coordination. The realization struck me with a heavy blow—I was truly alone in this world.

With my failed attempts at gracefulness, I allowed my thoughts to descend into the depths of my own turmoil. The weight of grief bore down on me, for my mother, along with countless others I held dear, was gone. Every person I had ever grown close to had slipped away, leaving me isolated and abandoned. It was a bitter irony that those who promised to stand by me had all eventually departed. But I couldn't escape the truth that I, too, was at fault, always finding a way to blame others instead of accepting my own trustfulness. It was this vulnerability that had driven me to distance myself from those around me.

The sound of a gunshot pierced through the air, jolting me out of my dark reverie. My gaze shot upward, only to be met by the sight of a tall man with piercing green eyes, ablaze with unwavering determination. My body froze, the similarity of his eyes to mine apparent and unsettling. My heart skipped a beat as fear gripped me, rendering me immobile. "You better leave before I plunge this knife into your heart, you abomination!" his voice lashed out at me, cutting through the silence. The words stung with a profound intensity, leaving me utterly speechless. Before I could react, all I could see was him standing before me, his hair meticulously styled and his eyes coldly regarding me as if I were insignificant. With a flutter of my wings, tinged with panic, I blinked and disappeared, seeking solace on the familiar bench that had always been my refuge.

"Castiel, I-I need you," my prayer escaped my trembling lips, my hope clinging desperately to his presence. In my panic, I barely registered the fact that I had flown or teleported, similar to the way Castiel had done. But with no immediate response, a newfound desperation and confidence took hold of me. "Please get your feathery ass down here," I implored, my voice strained as I fought against the tears threatening to spill over. And within seconds, as if heeding my call, Castiel materialized, settling himself on the bench beside me. 

"What's wrong? I was just about to come back," his voice was calm, soothing, grounding me in the midst of my turbulent emotions. I took a deep breath, trying to regain my composure and suppress the tears that threatened to overwhelm me.

"I need answers," I began, my voice quivering with a mix of uncertainty and determination. "And then I have questions," I added, the weight of my inquiries pressing heavily upon me.

He nodded understandingly, acknowledging the gravity of the situation. "Then let us return to our training," he said, his voice filled with conviction. "During these dire times, it is essential that you are prepared. You are a Nephalem, not necessarily an angel."

His attempt to redirect my focus seemed futile to me at that moment. Burdened with my pressing realization, I interrupted him. "Correct me if I'm wrong, Castiel, but you didn't have wings yesterday, did you?" I stumbled over my words, unable to ignore the nagging suspicion that had plagued me until I could no longer deny it. I stared intently into his blue eyes, desperately seeking confirmation and reassurance that I hadn't lost my grasp on reality. His disapproving shake of the head only fueled my determination. "Focusing on my wings might not seem relevant, but it is," I insisted, my exasperation seeping through. "I can see your wings, and I can see the wings of other angels because I truly believe in what you are, and what I am." As I spoke, I maintained my intense gaze, hoping he could sense the sincerity in my eyes. But Castiel remained resolute, daring me to interrupt him once more. Realizing the implications of being on his bad side, I withheld my words, maintaining a tight grip on my tongue.

Then, he began to explain. "A Nephalem is a unique combination of angel and demon, an existence that should not be possible. Unlike mortals, angels are pure energy, not born in the same way. But you... God wanted you to be born, which is why I must protect you," his words carried an unwavering certainty.

I mumbled, almost inaudibly, my initial skepticism giving way to acceptance of this newfound reality. Being lectured by an angel in a trench coat was certainly not what I had expected, but the weight of his words sank in nonetheless.

"Now that I understand the basics," I started, my voice holding a tinge of sarcasm, "I have a question for you, Castiel." Ignoring his earlier comment, I signaled my intent to pursue the truth. He observed me closely, his eyes probing for my intentions.

"Yes, why?" he drawled out, indicating his familiarity with the name in question.

"Because I am Essence Mary Winchester, Dean Winchester's daughter," I revealed, my voice laced with the weight of revelation. "And, as I'm pretty sure, earlier today he tried to kill me." The words hung heavy in the air as I offered my stark observation.

***

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