Gabriel, My Trusted Angel
Gabriel, mon roi
Mon ange en qui je crois
Si l'amour vient de là-haut
Sauras-tu faire un choix ? (Oh, Oh)
Tu sais fuir, tu mens
La fièvre dans le sang
Moi je prie pour qu'à nouveau
Tu me reviennes à temps
[Eng:
Gabriel, my king
My trusted angel
If love comes from Heaven
Will you be up to make a choice? (Oh, Oh)
You're an escapist and a liar
The fever is in your blood
As for me, I am praying so that once again
You come back to me in time.]
~Gabriel by Najoua Belyzel
A hooded figure sits in a darkened room, the only light emanating from a seemingly-clear sphere in hand. Eyes, hidden from view, tell not of how the cloaked being feels. What gave way to what they felt, was the frown that twisted perfectly painted lips. The frown twists into a sneer, moments later, the only warning of the sphere's nigh demise.
"Winchesters!" snarled the shrouded form, like a quiet battle cry, before hurling the sphere at the wall to their left. It shattered, shards scattering to all corners of the room. Without the sphere, the room plunged into complete darkness.
"I will stop this madness before it can even begin." The voice was disembodied for the brief time it took for the figure to strike a match and light the many candles around the room. As they swept through the room, the shards of the sphere were no more. As the being passes an empty table, the sphere appears along with a weathered book. The title reads:
Ra'amEl's Guide To Making Sure Idiots Do Their Job Right
As they lit candles, the being gathered supplies, the book turns it's fragile pages to the near middle of the book. The ink was faded with time and use, but were still legible.
Time Reversal
This is a strong and dangerous spell. The effects of going back in time could be disastrous. Heed these words and turn away now before you screw everything up.
The page then goes on to describe what is needed, a work-worn finger following along as it's owner puts the spell together. Their lips were pursed in a contemplative countenance. It takes them just a few moments, the movements well-practiced, for the cloaked figure to complete the spell. A burst of light and the being no longer stands in front of the book, the page blank.
Dean kept his green eyes on the road as they drove away from the fake motel. Sam was frowning by his side, clutching a worn map. With Gabriel's help, they managed to escape the Gods' Motel of Horrors and Lucifer, but something just wasn't sitting right with Sam. The taller Winchester felt that they could have done more and somehow taken Gabe with them. Dean consistently looking in the rearview mirror didn't help. It was on one these glances that Dean nearly crashed the '67 Impala. Dean slammed on the brakes and shifted into park to glare at the addition in the backseat.
"Who the fuck are you?!" Sam looked back as well, seeing a humanoid of femme nature sitting in the backseat, burnt orange-painted lips twisted into a frown. Blueish-purple eyes glaring at Dean for his outburst. "What the fuck are you?"
"What I am has nothing to with why I am here. As for who I am, you may refer to me as Pandora." Sam noted that Pandora's voice dripped with honey but held an undertone of chaotic-mischief. Smooth, but meant to ruffle feathers. ('Perhaps quite literally,' Sam thought absently.) It certainly upset Dean, if the shade of red his face was turning, had anything to say about it. Sam took a moment to note that Pandora was wearing a forest green hooded cloak, covering what he could only guess was a long figure. A mess of rainbow curls framed her face that was the picture of youth, but her eyes relayed her true age to the younger Hunter.
"Why are you here then?" he asked before his older brother could blow up at the woman. Her eyes lost their glare as they turned on Sam, her lips curling into a misleading smile.
"You need to go back in for Gabriel." Unbeknownst to the usually observant Hunters, they are transported back to the motel parking lot. When they had yet to notice the location change, the cloak parted as she rose her hand to gesture, revealing dark-wash jeans and a black muscle shirt. Bangles on her wrist jangle with the movement, catching Sam's attention. He looked back at the woman with a mixture of concern and hope. She smiled with exasperation and shooed him off with wave of her hand. "Go on. I'll be right behind you every step of the way."
"Hang on-" Dean's objection was cut off with a slam of the car door by Sam, his person feeling a tad heavier. Dean looked to his brother walking towards the Motel of Horrors' entrance and back to an empty backseat. He got out of his Baby quickly, noting Pandora trailing after Sam. Her cloak billowing around her as she strutted after. The elder Winchester ran after the two, trying to plead with them as they slipped into the building. His words mixed with the slamming of the door, sealed their fate. "Can't we talk about this?"
