Summary: The Archangel Gabriel wakes up, after that fateful confrontation with his brother, in; of all places; a shitty motel room. He finds himself in the care of a plaid clad female hunter.
When Alice Carmichael finds herself neck deep in Winchester style trouble Gabriel may be the only person who can get her out.
The only problem is, he can't remember who he is.
My first attempt at a Gabe fic... be gentle.
Prologue
It had been one hell of a night, a routine ghost ganking had suddenly turned into a run in with a pair of pissed off witches.
Alice Carmichael had barely been prepared to face one witch, let alone two.
There was no such thing as a simple salt and burn these days.
This one had left her exhausted, beaten all to hell, and feeling like she'd been dragged through every gravestone in the cemetery; which was probably because she HAD been dragged through nearly every gravestone in the cemetery.
Honestly, she had been lucky enough to escape with her life.
She'd had to call in another hunter for the job.
Now, she was speeding down a dark empty highway, in the pouring rain, trying to put as much space between her and the curse slinging bitches as possible.
He hadn't been expecting to see a body in the street.
With a loud curse she jerked the wheel to the left, slamming on the breaks and sending the car into a spiral before screeching to a halt, mere inches from the dead guy's body.
She rested her head on the steering wheel, for a moment, her heart racing.
Her eyes flickered back to the body in the street. She couldn't just leave the guy there, being dead was probably bad enough, without having your body crushed under tires.
After a moment she unbuckled her seat belt and climbed out of the car.
The closer she got to the man, the more nervous she felt.
She pulled her J-22 pistol out of her pocket, pointing it at the man's head, just in case he tried anything.
If her job had taught her anything it was that being dead didn't always mean you were...well, ACTUALLY dead.
Hesitantly, she nudged the man with her boot.
He didn't budge.
She knelt down, checking his pulse, because in her line of work, one could never be too sure.
To her surprise, there was a pulse, it was faint, barely noticeable, but there.
Alice sighed, "Well, at least I don't have to call in a favor to hide a dead body now..."
She flipped the safety on and put the gun back into her jacket pocket and stretched her arms for a second.
She was barely aware of being soaked to the bone, for the SECOND time tonight.
"Alright mister, I'm gonna drag you to the car, no funny business now, ya hear?"
Alice popped her fingers, and moved towards the man's head.
She lifted him slightly, sliding her hands through the dying guy's armpits and began jerkily dragging him to the car.
"Jeeze, you're a heavy pain in my ass," she grumbled.
She gave a nervous look down the way she had come to get the hell out of dodge.
"Couldn't you have at least showed up dying further away from witch-bitch central?"
With a great deal of effort Alice had finally managed to cram the guy into her back seat.
She hightailed it out of there.