So I have a crazy brain, one that came up with a thought while I was watching Mystery Spot. I was supposed to be unwinding and it spawned a question in my warped head: What if the Trickster has said no? It has spawned an AU that I may or may not continue depending on the reactions I get. As for pairings, well, I can't make any promises because we all know that as far as Dean and Cas are concerned I can't help myself. We'll see when we get there, if we get there. Potentially there'll be a chapter a week if it continues and there'll be a whole host of people for me to play with. I love playing with people.

Disclaimer: They really aren't mine. If they were things would be a whole lot more interesting. In fact, anything you recognise from the show isn't mine..... including certain lines from certian episodes

Diversus Vicis

Gabriel is sulking. He is well aware that as an almost all powerful archangel, such behaviour is actually far beneath him. He is also aware that an archangel should not know how to sulk. As it happens, he does not particularly care. He has managed to get himself taken by surprise by two of the most incompetent human beings on the face of the planet. The Winchester brothers could not see their fate laid out in front of them even though it was practically written in starlight across the heavens, they cannot accept their purpose and their use, and yet they managed to figure out what he is and how to imprison him with a somewhat terrifying level of efficiency.

As far as he is concerned, it is a worrying indicator of just how high the level of expose to angels has been for the Winchesters. Most humans are lucky if they meet an angel once, let alone have repeated contact with the same one over the course of a twelve month period. Unfortunately, it is not just one angel that has been interfering with the Winchester way of life, it has been several and though Gabriel knows that any one of them could have tipped Sam and Dean off to the existence of Holy Oil, he is fairly certain that Castiel is the main culprit in all of this. He is, after all, the one who disobeyed for Dean.

Things were so much simpler, he thinks, when Sam was blinded by rage and grief. Simpler when the youngest Winchester brother would stop at nothing to make sure that he got his revenge on Gabriel for his actions against Dean. It makes the archangel turned trickster god wonder if things would have been different if he had allowed Dean's soul to actually make it to Hell rather than have an associate hold onto it until he gave the word.

Granted Sam's focus on Lillith would have been depleted somewhat, and his associate would be most displeased with that, but Gabriel is well aware of the influence of the demon 'Ruby' in the young hunter's actions so he is fairly certain that she will prove just as useful in diverting his attention away from the archangel until much later. Whether it would have an affect on Sam agreeing to host Lucifer is another matter and another consideration.

As for Dean. That is something else entirely. The man broke in three months, thirty hellish years admittedly, but it is not nearly enough time to allow Sam to become the revenge obsessed border sociopath that he had. He cannot see a way around it, unless his associate will agree to help with this as well and he can see it being something of a challenge. She is, after all, no stranger to Hell, the Underworld, but her departure and the reasons behind it are still something of a mystery to the archangel.

These musings are pointless, anyway, he realises, going back in time is one thing and relatively easy for him, changing the beginning of an event as monumental as an apocalypse is very difficult. He will need help and he knows that he is in no position to ask any one of his brothers or sisters, added to which none of them would help him anyway. There is only one he can think of that he can go to, one who might be able to help him and who will not try to kill him on sight, and she is not going to like this idea one little bit. Still, it cannot hurt to ask.

Finding her is not quite so easy as he remembers it being, with the apocalypse in full swing and entire garrisons of angels and legions of demons roaming the Earth it is difficult to pinpoint one spark of light above all others. The one he seeks is in Britain, watching a young girl through a window with an intense kind of detachment as she runs her index finger along a full bottom lip.

"Gabriel," her voice is rich, with a gravelly quality to it and he shakes his head at the utterance of his name. He has never been able to sneak up on her.

"Hecate," he smiles, though it is brittle as the feel of her power washes over him. It is more earthy, darker, than that of his grace and it twists about her in snarl of red black strands that match the colour of her hair in the moonlight. This particular pagan goddess makes him uncomfortable. Unfortunately, she is the only one he has met who still retains a measure of her original strength and has not been forced to descend into madness and desperation to survive. There are others out there, he knows this, he has simply not been able to find them, besides, when she is in a good mood she can be very pleasant company. Tonight is not going to be one of those nights.

"I would ask what I have done to deserve the joy of your company," she mutters, long fingered hand running back through rich curls, "but seeing you or any one of your brethren is not as entertaining as it once was." As it happens, he understands the sentiment but he would never admit that to her of all beings. Instead he looks back at the girl in the small bungalow as she cuts into her palm and watches as Hecate snorts in disgust.

"Will you grant her prayer, oh beneficent goddess?" He asks, half mocking, half serious.

"You're being ridiculous, cousin," her lips quirk, "this one is better suited to the demons."

"Can you afford to lose the followers?" He asks as she turns her back on the window. An eyebrow arches and her eyes that glow with the same power that snakes around her tell him to back off and leave it alone.

"Contrary to popular belief, I do just fine, Gabriel," her tone is icy. "Besides, what she wants makes her better suited to the demons than to me. Let them have her." Added to which, Gabriel muses, most of the poor schmucks who enhance her power do not actually realise that they are doing it. "Now what do you want?"

"I've come to prostrate myself before your mercy to ask your aid, gracious one," he responds and watches her arch an eyebrow at him because it is obvious that she has not missed the sarcasm in his tone.

"Careful, this will make the third time," she smirks at him. He waits because he knows that she will not be able to resist finding out why he needs help. "What with?" She asks finally and turns her back when he winks at her.

"I need to go back in time."

"You can do that under your own steam, Gabriel, I hardly think you need my help for that." He had forgotten how she has always been one step ahead of him, that even though she is younger than him she can still tell when he is keeping things from her. It probably has something to do with the first favour he asked for.

"I know but I can't change it, which is why I need you," it hurts to admit it, but Hecate has always been one to demand the truth and if he wants her to help him, he has to be as honest as he can.

"This is to do with the Winchesters, isn't it?" He does not look at her, becomes very interested pushing his hands deep into his pockets and allowing the humanity of the gesture to wash over him. "Gabriel! You and yours can't keep dragging me into this. My survival depends on my remaining neutral."

"You've done a brilliant job so far," he tells her, letting the smile play about his lips as she turns her face away from him. "Face it, your in this up to your pretty red eyes."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Gabriel," if he concentrates, Gabriel is certain that he can hear a growl in her voice. He knows that persuading her to help him will not be easy, after all, she already has what she wants from it.

"It made me a Trickster," he points out, examining his hands.

"I know," she sighs, "and I'm still at a loss as to why I agreed to that in the first place. Or why I agreed to fight off Hell Hounds for six months just so you could torture Sam Winchester." She pauses. "I'm guessing Sam didn't learn whatever it was that you were trying to teach him?"

"I think I gave him too much credit, over estimated his intelligence because of Dean's utter stupidity." He tries to shrug it off.

"Way I heard it, Dean was the one who saw through you," she looks up at him, which is reassuring in a way because the vessel she made for him is not exactly tall. He would have asked for one a little bigger, but there had been a warning in her eyes at the time that had prevented him. He can be taller when he needs to be, as long as he does not fiddle too much and she is good at calling him on that anyway.

"I should have known you'd hear about that," he mumbles.

"One of mine gets trapped in a ring of holy fire, you can bet I hear about it," she shakes her head. "What you're planning will just accelerate things and then what? As soon as one side or the other wins our kind are going to be targeted, do you really think your brothers will be merciful?"

"Our kind? I think you mean your kind, Hecate."

"No, ours. I made you into one of us, Gabriel, whether you like it or not they'll treat you like you are." He does not like the smugness to her tone, the little smile or the way that her head tilts in a mockery of the expression so often used by angels, red black eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Doesn't matter," he tells her, "Sam gets mad enough he gets stupid enough to say yes to Lucifer and this will all be one step closer to being over."

"And Dean?" This is why he never likes asking the pagans for things. Unlike his brethren, they do not trust that his plans have a purpose behind them, the pagans want to know every little detail. Gabriel has never been one to look at the little details.

"Sometimes you just can't mess with fate, he just won't break as quickly," the archangel thinks on that for a moment. "Which will really upset Alistair and that's," he snorts to himself, "that's just too perfect."

"I'm going to regret this, aren't I?" She mutters. He tilts his head in question and she pulls a face. "I don't think you will ever manage to pay off this particular debt."

"I'm sure I'll be able to find something," he responds, holding a hand out to her. "Shall we?"

SPN

Broward County is exactly as Gabriel remembers, small town, small town people. It suited his purpose then, it suits his purpose now. Hecate is still as unimpressed as she was then, again it is no real surprise and she salutes him mockingly as she makes her way to the motel to prevent herself from protecting Dean's soul. It is a very strange arrangement and one that will allow him to head six months into the future to deal with the fall out.

He knows that his cousin is successful when he hears the scream of a goddess thwarted echoing around the town. He grins to himself and decides that since he is here anyway, he has time to have a plate of pancakes and syrup given that the last time he was here they were surprisingly good. Self indulgence over with, and as an archangel on the run he feels that he is entitled to indulge himself every once in a while, he glances down at his clothes, changes them to the ones that he remembers wearing and goes to find himself.

Literally.

Himself, past him, is sat upside down on one of the chairs stuck to the ceiling of the Mystery Spot, watching Sam with the kind of bored detachment that he remembers from this and he tilts his head at himself, wonders if his nose is really that pointed in profile and if he really looks that unhappy when he is not playing games.

"Sam isn't going to learn anything from this is he?" The trickster asks, looking up at him and having a conversation with himself is just going to be weird.

"No," Gabriel responds, taking the other chair and watching the exchange between Bobby and Sam below them, head tilting so that he can get a good, if upside down, view.

"I suppose you're the reason that Hecate decided not to keep Dean's soul out of Hell?" Gabriel nods. "Well then I really hope it was worth it, because I'd hate to see what she's going to ask for this," he snorts, smirking as Sam slams a stake through the simulacrum of Bobby. "You'll deal with the rest?" He asks.

"Naturally," Gabriel responds and sees his past self wave before departing.

"Bobby!" Sam's almost anguished cry brings his attention back where it belongs and he has to admit that this was part of the fun of tormenting the man.

"You're right. I was just screwing with you. Pretty good, though, Sam. Smart. Let me tell you, whoever said Dean was the dysfunctional one has never seen you with a sharp object in your hands. Holy Full Metal Jacket," he can feel Sam staring at him, the full weight of the young hunter's eyes begging him to fulfil his request.

"Bring him back."

"Who Dean? Didn't my girl send you flowers? Dean's dead. He ain't coming back. His soul's downstairs doing the hellfire rumba as we speak," and this time the words are true, completely true. He is not going to give Sam the time to ask some more, to make empty promises that Gabriel knows he will not be able to keep. He paints false sympathy on his face and continues. "It's too late, Sam, Dean's gone and I'm not the one who can bring him back to you. It's gone too far now, anyway and it's in someone else's hand. Get on with your life, find yourself a girl, get a job," he knows that telling Sam all of this is pointless, that the hunter will not listen. "Enjoy your life while you can. Better, I'll give you a girl. What would you like? Blonde? Or brunette?"

"You can't just bribe me into forgetting about my brother!" Sam strides forward and grabs the archangel's jacket in his hands, yanking on him to bring him flush against him so that he can stare down into the face of his tormentor. From this angle, Gabriel can understand why so many people find him intimidating. "Give him back."

"No can do, Sam, not now. Grow up, get over it and learn the lesson," because even if the lesson here is that this is going to be Sam's life now, Gabriel cannot resist making the point.

"Lesson?" The hunter's grip slackens and the archangel wriggles free, taking a moment to straighten himself up and regain a touch of his dignity, a dignity that always seems to suffer when a Winchester is involved.

"This obsession to save Dean? The way you two keep sacrificing yourselves for each other? Nothing good comes out of it. Just blood and pain. Dean's your weakness. And the bad guys know it, too. It's gonna be the death of you, Sam. Sometimes you just gotta let people go."

"I can't," Sam whispers, "I can't, he's my brother, I can't." If Gabriel were not so intent on breaking the hunter, on pushing him close enough to the edge that he will say yes to Lucifer in a little over two years, he would actually feel sorry for the kid.

"It's over, Sam, this is it, this is your life," the words are more comforting than he intends them to be, but he knows that the hunter is going to need this. "If you're lucky, certain associates of mine will make sure that you see Dean again one day. You'll just have to pray extra hard for it."

"I will kill you," the hunter's voice breaks but there is a steal in his voice that cuts through even the tears that stain his cheeks now.

"You're welcome to try, but I don't think you have the juice." He mimes looking at a watch. "Well this has been fun, but I'm getting bored of going in circles. Have a nice life, Sam," he is gone even as the raw fury passes across the only living Winchester's face, transporting himself to a hill top just outside the town where Hecate is waiting for him.

"How did it go?" She asks, her eyes a dark brown now that she has to blend more with the people around her rather than display her power to the moonlight and darkness.

"He's going to kill me," Gabriel shrugs.

"Brilliant," she raises her eyebrow, "now I have to protect my asset."

"Not that I don't appreciate it, but why?" He really does not want to persuade Hecate not to keep an eye on his back, the last thing that he needs to do is come down with a bad case of dead any time soon.

"You can't repay a debt if you don't have a life, Gabriel, and I collect on my debts." She stares at him for a long moment. "Don't go and get yourself killed before I get back," she hisses and is gone, though Gabriel has no idea where that might be to. He has the patience to wait ten minutes before he is off to continue with his own good works until fate manages to take her course.

So do we think it's worth continuing? Answers on a review!

Artemis