A/N: I apologize for the intensity of plot building in this chapter but, well, they had to plan and get ducks in a row.
When Sam woke up, it was after one hell of a dream.
It hadn't been lucid. Which wasn't what he'd expected. After all, he'd gotten used to the Grace walking into his dreams, so he'd thought Gabriel would do the same. He hadn't, obviously.
The content of the dream was hard to figure out. With how often it'd jumped around, Sam was surprised he remembered any of it. There'd been angels, he remembered. Lucifer had been there. For some reason, Sam hadn't felt frightened of him.
Sam always felt frightened of him...
The dream had been populated by a lot of people he didn't know but he felt he knew. Nothing unusual for a dream, really.
He'd interacted with them. Had some fun. But it was with a more distant feeling of happiness. Something always felt off to him. Like...he always wondered why he was feeling what he was. Because, sometimes, what dream-him laughed at or did wasn't really that great. So, why'd he do it? It didn't make any sense.
And he was all over the place. Forest. Mountain. Beach. He'd probably been to every biome that existed at least once.
He hadn't been too fond of the colder climates, yet he was there more often than he liked. Why? Why put up with it? He didn't know. But, it was a dream. Was he supposed to know?
Scrubbing a hand across his face, Sam looked around his room for Gabriel.
The Archangel was nowhere to be found. His coloring book and crayons were missing. The TV was on, though muted and showing a wonderful screen of static.
Sam groaned and buried his face in the mattress. He really hoped Gabriel had left because he'd sensed Dean up, or something, because, otherwise, there was going to be a confrontation. One that Sam didn't want to hear or deal with.
His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten anything since yesterday. Early yesterday.
Moaning petulantly, Sam pushed himself up and got out of bed.
He grabbed a change of clothes, mentally beat himself up over the fact he'd left his toothbrush and such in the duffle he'd left on the table, took a shower anyway, and made his way to the kitchen. He debated whether or not he wanted coffee or some toast and jelly. Maybe both. He wasn't one-hundred percent certain that the milk in the fridge was still good. In fact, he was only, like, fifty-percent certain.
He wondered what coffee and toast and jelly would taste like.
Then, he paused as he looked up at the fridge and his mental process snapped to what was on the fridge.
Crayon-colored ponies were on the fridge. Four of then, to be precise. A blond and white one, a blue and black one, a tan and green-eyed one, and a mostly brown one. And on each of these ponies was a name scrawled in amazingly-fancy lettering: Sam, Dean, Castiel, and Gabriel.
Sam tilted his head as he stared at the coloring pages.
He was at a loss for what to think. The sense of humor meant was obvious. The fact that Gabriel had stuck the pictures up on the fridge was, most likely, a dig at Dean for giving him the book in the first place. But, then there was the fact that Gabriel had added himself into the bunch.
Sam wasn't so much offended at the idea as he was saddened by it. Because he wasn't entirely sure Gabriel was with them. Not in the long-haul sense.
Of course, there was also the fact that last time he'd helped them out...
Dean walked into the kitchen. Sam looked at him from over his shoulder. His brother only glanced at the drawings before frowning in disgust.
"Yeah. Real cute, ain't it?" He griped.
He had a coffee cup in his hand. A cup he stopped at the maker to refill. He was still wearing his ridiculous bathrobe. He mustn't have been up long.
Sam really hoped Gabriel hadn't skirted past Dean to wherever the hell he was. Because Sam did not have a good explanation for why the Archangel wasn't right on his heels.
He shrugged nonchalantly, "I don't know. I think the cowboy hat yours is wearing is kinda fitting."
Dean scoffed, "Leave my 'fetish' out of it."
Sam smirked. Deciding on toast and jelly, he finally opened the fridge.
"Oh, and, get this," Dean continued, turning around, coffee in hand. "They won't come off."
"What?" Sam pulled out the jelly jar and the half-gone loaf of bread. "Did he superglue them on, or something?"
"No," Dean took a sip of coffee and swallowed. "As far as I can tell he's used some sort of angel mojo on it. I've tried everything to rip those damn things off. They're more stubborn than he is."
Sam nodded in agreement. Gabriel was that. Stubborn. Sometimes, not even intentionally. Though, he was pretty sure this time there was intention.
Sam made his toast. Dean didn't say anything after that, just sort of watched him while he continued to lean up against the table the coffee maker was on. Sam tried not to let it bother him. He failed. He had a good hunch what Dean was going to ask him about and he was dreading it.
Dean followed him out of the kitchen and into the small, adjacent room where the dining table and chairs were. He waited until Sam sat down to ask what had, no doubt, been running around his mind.
"So," he drawled. "Gabriel..."
Sam feigned ignorance as he hummed curiously while chewing his food. He looked up at Dean, eyebrows raised. Dean blinked. Then he licked his lips.
"You two... Do anything... Last night?"
Sam wrinkled his brow as he shook his head. Okay, yeah. That hadn't actually been what he thought Dean was going to ask. He was banking on, 'Where's Gabriel?' Sam swallowed his bite and looked back up at Dean.
"No?" He half-asked. "Why-why...? What?"
It was Dean's turn to look a tad confused.
"I thought you two were like," he motioned with his hand, "a thing."
Sam nodded slowly in disbelief.
"No," he answered genuinely.
Dean frowned, "Oh, come on! You and the Grace - "
Sam held up a hand, "Was the Grace. Trust me: There's a difference. Nothing's going on between me and Gabriel. So...you can stop thinking about it."
Dean nearly pouted, and Sam was pretty sure it had to do with the fact he was wrong about something. After all, he couldn't see why Dean would be bummed if he wasn't in a relationship with someone Dean despised.
"By the way," Dean began, turning his attention back to Sam, "when did Gabriel leave your room last night?"
Sam nearly choked on the bite he'd just taken.
"Uh," he replied eloquently.
"Nice, Sammy."
"I need to sleep sometime, Dean. I really don't know what you expected would happen," he explained. "You can't pin him down, anyway. He's an Archangel. One with a mind of his own."
"Holy Fire seemed to work last time."
Sam took a deep breath and looked at his brother sternly.
"Don't you dare," Sam commanded. "He's been through enough shit. And do you really want to get on his bad side? Just because he's agreed to help us now doesn't mean he won't turn on us if you threaten him."
Dean scoffed and looked away. Sam didn't miss how his hands tightened around his coffee cup. He was probably envisioning Gabriel's neck.
"Man, this sucks."
Sam refused to comment. He didn't want to get into a heated argument. It was too early in the morning, for one thing. However, as he was finishing his first piece of toast, he remembered what he'd told Gabriel in the car the day before. About telling Dean about the bond.
A feeling of dread traveled through his veins like ice. But, as he'd told Gabriel, Dean had to know. Now. Before anything weird happened and his brother exploded after having been lied to. Again. A heated argument would look like a mild disagreement if that happened.
"Um," Sam hesitated, smacking his hands free of crumbs. "So, I asked Gabriel about the bond."
"Yeah, what the hell's that all about?" Dean prompted, grumpily.
"Well, y'know how Gabriel made that slightly weird analogy about me being a water fountain?"
"Uh-huh."
"Let's just say...there's a possibility that...if water keeps getting poured into me, I could keep...running?"
Sam stared uneasily at his brother. Dean blinked at him. Yeah, he hadn't understood what Sam had said. Sam kind of didn't understand it himself.
"Mind speaking English?" Dean asked.
"Okay. Let's try the electricity one. Think of the bond like the wires in a circuit. Gabriel's the battery; I'm the bulb. If the wires aren't cut and I keep pulling power from the battery...I'll keep glowing."
"Uh-huh."
"And I may just start to glow brighter?"
Dean tilted his head. He frowned. He opened and shut his mouth. He shook his head. He, finally, pointed at Sam with vague comprehension.
"So, what you're saying is: If y'all keep using this weird ass bond thing, those little psychic powers Gabriel mentioned - the dream walking - will not only stay around but will get worse?"
Sam shrugged, "I wouldn't say 'worse' but there's a possibility that they'll strengthen, or that I might get more. Like, how with Azazel I started with visions and then there was that one instance of telekinesis."
Dean nodded, "Oh. Oh, great. Like Azazel. Because that's just - "
"Dean," Sam stressed. "I know. I don't want to be a freak anymore, either. But Gabriel's already told me that the bond isn't detrimental. Like, there's no... there's no addiction, for one thing. And he's said that, if I don't use it, maybe the powers will just... shrivel up and go away, or something."
Okay, so that hadn't been exactly what Gabriel had said. He'd inferred that Sam's psychic abilities had always been there, just remained dormant. However, Sam wasn't going to tell Dean that. It wasn't relevant, really. Non-working powers weren't dangerous, for one thing. For another, he didn't want to hear Dean rant about how he's been traveling with a time bomb, or something equally stupid and inflammatory.
"Well, at least that's a plus," Dean grumbled. "Just don't use the bond and everything will be fine. Back to normal, for the most part."
Yeah. Back to normal. As if there ever was such a thing in their lives.
Dean excused himself, remarking about how he was going to get dressed and then hunt down the Archangel. Not literally, much to his chagrin. Sam was left to eat his toast and jelly in peace. Sort of. If he didn't count the fact that his mind was whirling at a thousand miles a minute.
He was warring with himself, he realized. On the one hand, he didn't want to be psychic. He didn't want the hassle that came with that. On the other... Well, he'd always been curious in nature. That's why he'd always stuck to his guns when it came to schoolwork. He loved learning. Unfortunately, that desire to learn also spread to figuring out just what he could do if he did continue to draw off the bond - if he continued to exercise his powers.
Lucid dreaming might be an extension of his psychic abilities, he realized. He was used to it, he'd told Gabriel. It happened frequently compared to some.
He hadn't had a psychic vision since Azazel, but... Maybe, with the bond, he could tap back into it. He hated them, of course. Hated how real they could seem. However, they had also been useful. They could use useful right now.
He huffed a quiet laugh to himself as he cleaned up his mess.
He was like Neo. Wondering if he should take the red or blue pill.
Finished with his food, Sam headed towards the library. He intended to get his duffle bag. His laptop was in it and he wanted to see if he could use it to get a lead on Metatron or Gadreel.
Technically, that was Castiel's job, but Sam was still worried about the whole 'living a script' thing. They'd done that once before. It hadn't ended well. With him aiding Cas' search, even if only for half of his research time, maybe they could find a lead much faster. It only seemed logical, right?
However, when Sam entered the library, he spotted Gabriel sitting at the map table. Sam's laptop was in front of him. He was lazily scrolling through something, eyes darting back and forth like he was reading. Sam was afraid to know what.
He was also slightly annoyed.
He remembered what happened to the last laptop Gabriel's influence had gotten to.
Sam walked quickly over to the Archangel, hoping and praying that his dear piece of technology would not be horribly ruined. Or defiled.
"What are you doing?" He demanded tartly.
Gabriel didn't look up from the screen. Nor did he bother to stop scrolling or stop reading whatever he was.
"Research," he mumbled, the hand he was resting his head on slightly masking his speech.
Sam frowned. Okay, well, that was a plus. He expected something far less helpful and a lot more Gabriel. He certainly wasn't going to complain that Gabriel was taking initiative. Perhaps the Archangel was actively going to try and help them this time. It was in his best interest, after all.
Sam shuffled forward a bit so that he could lean over and peek at what Gabriel was reading.
Gabriel was going entirely too fast for him - perks of being an angel, Sam assumed - but the tidbits he did catch mentioned him. By name. And Sam's name. And a lot of scenery exposition that sounded a lot like the Mystery Spot.
Wait.
Lightning fast, Sam lunged forward, colliding with Gabriel as he did so, to snatch his laptop off the table. The Archangel squawked in protest as his head bounced off Sam's chest. Once the laptop was secured, Sam stepped back and shut the screen with a definitive snap.
"Still not fond of other people touching your laptop?" Gabriel asked as he rotated in the chair to stare at Sam.
He had a small, disapproving frown on his face. Sam really didn't care.
"Why were you reading that crap?" He questioned harshly.
"Thought I already answered that question," Gabriel replied easily.
"Research for what?" Sam snapped.
"Relax, kiddo. I have it on good authority that Metatron used dear ol' Chuck's books to gain his," Gabriel rolled his eyes in disgust, "inspiration when it came to me and my characterization. I was just curious to see what the prophet wrote."
"Why? You were there."
Gabriel smiled pleasantly, "We both know there's two sides to any story. Or three. Four. However many characters the author's writing for. As such..."
The Archangel trailed off, staring expectantly at Sam. Sam hadn't a clue what Gabriel was fishing for. When Gabriel realized that, he sighed.
"There might be information in those books that none of us know personally, but that don't mean it ain't relevant."
Sam slowly loosened his death grip on his laptop as he lowered it.
That made sense. Becky had been the one to tell them that the Colt hadn't been given to Lilith but to Crowley. Something Sam and Dean hadn't known. However...
"These books stop after I was thrown into the Cage, though. What good is looking at them going to be?"
Gabriel shrugged, "Never hurts to look. But, hey. You're right. I'm probably wasting my time. ...And Metatron really sucks at writing me."
Sam frowned again, "Is that all you did after you snuck outta my room?"
"Nope. Went snooping around the Bunker. If the Men of Letters hadn't been such pacifists, they woulda been dangerous." Gabriel smirked, "And if you two even knew half the stuff at your disposal and how to use it, you'd be dangerous, too."
"I wouldn't get too cocky," Dean's voice said from behind Sam.
Sam turned to see his brother dressed, a disapproving scowl on his face. Naturally, it was aimed towards Gabriel. As he approached, Dean folded his arms across his chest.
"We're pretty good on our own. Know how to deal with you, in any case."
"Dean," Sam cautioned.
"Ooh," Gabriel cooed sarcastically. "Quakin' in my boots, Dean."
"Gabriel," Sam warned.
It was weird having to get onto both of them at the same time. Sam did not look forward to the future. And he certainly didn't appreciate being made into the chaperone of two, fully-grown men.
"Where the hell have you been?" Dean questioned the Archangel, deciding against an argument.
Or, at least, to move on to a different one. Sam frowned at the idea.
Gabriel puckered his lips, "Mmm, around."
"Yeah. I got that. What the hell were you doing?"
Gabriel sighed loudly, slumping in his chair, "Y'know, if you two would stay up each other's asses more than you already do, I wouldn't have to repeat myself."
Dean looked at Sam. Sam looked at Dean. Both shifted uncomfortably at the same time. After all, the elephant in the room was that their relationship was still on shaky ground. When Sam looked back at Gabriel, the Archangel was frowning slightly as his eyes darted between the two of them. Oh, great.
"Uh-huh," Gabriel said. "Trouble in paradise?"
"Yeah," Dean grinned sardonically. "Paradise is on Earth, and it's kinda makin' a mess of things. We're trying to fix that, remember? You're supposed to be helping us. And, instead, you're...around."
Gabriel hummed. He was very nonchalant in the face of that accusation.
"Alright," Gabriel began, "I'm just going to go ahead and get this out of the way: I'm not going to hold you boys' hands. I said I'd help, not that I'd sweep up your mess."
"Funny, I think I've heard that phrase from you before."
"You have. Point still stands."
"Okay," Sam interrupted, gaining their attention. He looked at Gabriel, "No one's asking you to wave your hand and make it all go away. I mean, I'm pretty sure you couldn't do that even if you wanted to."
Gabriel smiled ruefully. Sam was right, then. The Fall had weakened Gabriel more than he was letting on. He'd still be a formidable opponent, most likely, but he didn't seem to be anywhere near the strength he had been before.
"All we need from you is a direction or-or some info on how Heaven's Gates work. Where this Door is. We can pull our own weight. We've done it before."
Gabriel seemed to be mulling Sam's words around. Probably thinking if it was worth it or not. It was in his best interest, of course, but Gabriel also had a habit of kicking and screaming about a plan he didn't like. Sometimes, Sam wondered if Gabriel was the spoiled sibling of the Archangels. He was definitely the most immature.
"Fine," Gabriel said eventually. "Though, you might wanna sit. Kinda a long story."
Sam looked at Dean. When Dean nodded to him, they both walked to the table. Sam sat beside Gabriel, Dean sat across from Sam. A good thing, too, because Sam was pretty sure chaos would have ensued had Dean sat across from Gabriel. It probably would have started with a not-so-flirtatious game of footsie and then...
Once they had seated, Gabriel shifted so he could better see both of them. Sam placed his laptop on the table, making sure to shove it away from Gabriel. The Archangel smirked a little at him because of it. Sam narrowed his eyes in return.
"So." Dean said, wiggling in the hard chair to get comfortable. "Stairway to Heaven."
"Well, for one, there's no such thing," Gabriel made sure to clarify.
The blank stare Dean gave him clearly indicated how much he cared.
"For another, there's not even a door, really."
"Then how do we get in?" Sam questioned, confused.
"Oh, there's a way in. It's just not a door. What Metatron's using is a spell designed to punch a hole into Heaven that then seals as soon as you pass through."
"Okay, great," Dean commented. "What's the spell?"
"I ain't got a clue," Gabriel replied.
"Oh. Wonderful."
"Even if I did, you need to know where the weak spot in the fabric of Heaven is to even use it. And, I can guarantee ya: Metatron keeps moving that."
"Okay, well, not to be rude, Gabriel, but," Sam began, "exactly how can you help us?"
Gabriel shrugged, "I add humor. I'm easy on the eyes."
It was Sam's turn to stare blankly at the Archangel. Dean rolled his eyes and looked away.
"Alright." Dean faced Sam, "I say we stab him now."
"Oh!" Gabriel exclaimed, raising a finger, "And I know what angel does know the location of the ever-shifting path to Heaven."
Sam nodded once. Okay. He didn't understand why Gabriel didn't just say that. Other than beating around the bush was kind of Gabriel's thing. Probably made him feel good about himself to know something others didn't...and then rub their noses in it.
Why was he still attracted to this asshole?
"Who?" Dean demanded, tired and frustrated.
"Well, ya just released him back to his master."
"Gadreel," Sam guessed. "Great."
"Newsflash, Gabriel: That asshat isn't going to be helping us anytime soon," Dean growled.
"And why is that?" Gabriel asked, though his tone of voice indicated he already knew the answer.
"Y'know what? Bite me, Gabriel."
"Funny, I think I've heard that phrase from you before."
"We're not working with Gadreel," Sam said slowly.
The very thought infuriated him. That angel had tricked him, stolen his body, used it whenever he wanted... Killed Kevin. Sam would never stop having nightmares about that. So, fuck him. They'd find another way to get to door. Or, not-door. Whatever.
When he looked over to Gabriel, the Archangel was stern. Disapproving, in an understanding sort of way. Sam had been under the impression that only teachers could give that look.
"You don't have to do anything you don't want to do," Gabriel replied. "Alls I'm sayin' is that, if you want to find Metatron, he's the guy you gotta get."
"Last time we got him, he wasn't too helpful," Dean complained.
"Well, if you treated him anything like you did me," Gabriel cocked his head to look at Dean, "then I don't doubt why."
Dean scoffed, "So we should be nice to fucker who killed Kevin?"
"You took an angel that has been locked up and tortured since the Dawn of Time...and locked him up and tortured him. You tell me Dean: Does that sound like a good way to get information out of someone? Or does it sound like a way to make them desperate and unpredictable?"
"Just. Stop," Sam held up his hand. "Worst-case scenario, we'll go that route. But for now? No. Let's try to exhaust the other avenues we got."
"What? Cas and his little stormtroopers?" Gabriel mocked. "Because he did a really good job locating God last time."
The slap Sam's hand made when it encountered the back of Gabriel's head was extremely satisfying. As was the indignant yelp. Gabriel tried to slap back. He missed. Sam's head twitched as he smiled condescendingly at the other.
"At least he's trying. More than you've done regarding a lot of things."
Gabriel frowned in annoyance. Yet, he didn't say anything back. Didn't come up with a rebuttal. Because he knew Sam was right. He knew that Sam knew Sam was right. What point would there be in arguing against the truth?
When Sam glanced at Dean, his brother wore a smug expression. No doubt because Gabriel'd just been smacked.
"Now that that's taken care of," Dean spoke, "why don't we discuss the whole Abaddon issue? Since, y'know, we have a better chance of solving that problem."
Gabriel faced Dean, confused. Sam grew apprehensive. Cas hadn't responded favorably to the Mark of Cain when he discovered it. Sam had a funny feeling that Gabriel's reaction was going to be worse. And he wasn't entirely sure he could hold the Archangel back from strangling his brother.
"What do you mean?" Gabriel questioned, and Sam's pulse went just a little faster.
His eyes darted quickly over to Dean. Dean didn't seem to notice the danger he was about to put himself in. Not good.
"We have the First Blade," Dean answered.
"That doesn't work - "
"Unless we have the Mark of Cain. Yeah, I know. Kinda took care of that little issue."
Gabriel blinked. Just once. Then his eyes widened just slightly as his eyebrows rose. His surprise quickly morphed into comprehension, and then even faster into rage. He glared at Dean.
"You didn't," he demanded.
"Oh, yes, I did. We need - "
Dean stopped as Gabriel rocked back in his chair, head thrown back as if the stupidity he'd just heard come out of Dean's mouth had punched him in the face. The Archangel pushed himself up and stormed a few feet away from the table.
"Boy, I gotta tell ya, Dean," Gabriel nearly shouted as he spun around to glare at him, "out of all the dumb fucking things you've done, this one takes the cake!"
"Oh, come off it!" Dean shouted back, raising from his once-relaxed position. "What's with you angels and -"
"Do you have any goddamn idea what the thing on your arm's capable of?!"
"Yeah! Stopping Abaddon!"
"Besides that, genius!"
Dean opened and shut his mouth a few times. He was livid, but his hesitation to find words wasn't coming from his anger. He was stuttering because he didn't know what Gabriel had asked. He was unsure what Gabriel meant.
Sam didn't like that at all.
Gabriel cackled in disbelief, "You don't, do you? You didn't think before you took the Mark from Cain. Cain! You ever stop to wonder where he's painted as the bad guy in the great Holy Bible?"
Dean's upper lip twitched in rage at the Archangel. His eyes were on fire. Sam had seen that look before.
"Dean," Sam spoke softly, trying to warn his brother against doing anything else remarkably stupid.
"Yeah," Dean snapped, his eyes not leaving Gabriel. "I know all about how Abel was actually talking to Lucifer and that that's why Cain took the Mark. To save his brother."
"Oh, ho, is that what Cain said?" Gabriel asked as he began to pace. "Well, he wasn't wrong. Lucifer was talking to Abel. Because he wanted a Vessel. He wanted a way to play with the little hairless apes where they wouldn't know any better. Wouldn't see the devil in disguise and he could play them like a fiddle.
"He wanted to utterly ruin humanity. He had a plan to do that in Abel. Y'see, Abel was the youngest, he was attractive in more ways than one, and, hoo, my brother saw a little bit of himself in the boy. He wanted him. But Abel kept telling him no."
Sam frowned. He hadn't been with Dean when he'd met Cain. In fact, he was hearing about the origin of the Mark for the first time. But... Gabriel's story was conflicting with Dean's. Or, Cain's. Sam glanced back at Dean and noticed that his rage had disappeared. Now, he was just confused. And worried. He knew what Gabriel was implying, too.
Gabriel smiled ruefully, "That's right, Dean-o. Cain killed his brother for no reason at all. Abel didn't need saving. He was saving himself."
Again, Sam looked at Dean. Dean was staring at the table.
"That doesn't change anything. We still need the Mark," he mumbled.
"Lucifer gave that Mark to Cain," Gabriel continued, "to corrupt him. To use him as an instrument of destruction because Lucifer couldn't do it himself. What was Cain when you ran into him?"
Sam inhaled sharply. Dean's eyes widened as he snapped his head up to look at Gabriel. He glanced at Sam and then back. He shook his head.
"No," he stated firmly.
"You're becoming a demon, Dean," Gabriel replied easily, though there was no mocking tone in his voice now.
"I..." Dean stammered. "I'll kill myself first. I - "
"Dean," Sam breathed.
"I'm not becoming a demon!" Dean shouted in distress. "I'm not going to become the thing that we spent all our lives trying to get rid of!"
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Gabriel's voice spoke from over Sam's shoulder.
Sam jolted a little at the sudden closeness. He hadn't heard the Archangel walk towards him. Dean glared at Gabriel.
"It's transforming your soul. What do you think is going to happen when your soul is freed from its fleshy confines?"
"W-well what am I supposed to do then? Just wait for the inevitable." Dean implored.
"Hell if I know," Gabriel answered. "Maybe you shoulda thought of that before."
"Gab - " Sam cut himself off and started again. "Okay, look. We'll figure something out. There's... The Men of Letters had that cure, right? Remember? The one I tried on Crowley. Well, sorta tried. What if we used that on you?"
"Would that work?"
"I don't see why it wouldn't?"
"What cure?" Gabriel interrupted.
Sam looked up at him. The Archangel didn't look confused so much as suspicious. Also thoughtful. Thoughtful was good. At least that meant Gabriel was legitimately trying to help them get to the bottom of something. Other than just rubbing the situation in Dean's face.
"The Men of Letters discovered a way to use, like, purified blood to cure a demon. It was a spell, or ritual. Cleansed their souls. Made them human again."
"Fancy trick," Gabriel murmured. "Don't know how it'll affect a mid-transition human soul, but... If push comes to shove."
"So... So, I'm good?" Dean asked shakily, glancing back and forth at Sam and Gabriel.
"No," Gabriel smiled humorless as he nodded. "See, the Mark's still on your arm. So! Cleansing you would..."
Sam rolled his eyes in frustration. Dean frowned.
"As long as the Mark's there - "
"I'm fucked."
"Dean," Sam began.
"There might be a way to get rid of it," Gabriel stated, gaining both Sam's and Dean's rapt attention. "Don't look at me like that. I don't know for sure, alright?
"But Cain passed on the Mark. Maybe...he can take it back."
Dean shifted uncomfortably but nodded his understanding. Sam glanced at him, worried.
He knew the Mark had been affecting Dean. He'd known Dean was acting worse than he usually did on the jerk scale. He hadn't realized - hadn't thought it was possible - that what the Mark was doing was actually changing his brother from the inside out.
And Sam knew what it felt like to have something monstrous festering inside. Knew what it felt like to try and ignore that, to convince himself that the power it gave was worth it and that he was doing the right thing... Only to have the truth slap him in the face.
He also knew how Dean was going to handle that information.
"Alright. I need - I need to go. I need to drive."
Sam frowned, watching his brother stand quickly from his chair. Dean didn't look at him, or Gabriel. He just headed straight for the stairs. And Sam didn't try to stop him. Because he knew Dean needed his space, that he needed to let off some steam. He needed time to think.
"Word of warning, Dean-o," Gabriel called after him, arms folded loosely, "don't do anything too demonic."
The reply he was given was a quick middle finger and, soon enough, a very loudly slammed door. Sam gave the back of Gabriel's head a disapproving look. One the Archangel didn't see when he turned to look down at Sam, because Sam had just caught onto the possible meaning of Gabriel's warning.
"You think that'll make it worse?" He questioned.
"How do you think souls wind up in Hell, even if their humans haven't squandered them away in a deal?" Gabriel replied solemnly.
"Great."
"Yeah. Great! Now, not only is Metatron and Hell's greatest hits something we gotta watch out for, but your dear, sweet brother, too! And y'all wonder why I stayed my ass in Heaven."
Sam was going to quip about how, yeah, it was because Gabriel was probably the biggest coward in the universe, but then he noticed the way the other turned away. That small sparkle of emotion in his eyes just as bit at the inside of his lip. Ah! Revelation.
"You care," Sam accused, small smirk pulling at his lips. "This is like that time in Elysian Fields when you tried to brush off your being there are just sentimentality. You care and you're pissed that you care. Because caring means you actually have to do something. Ha! Wow."
He pointed at Gabriel, "I got your number."
Gabriel gave him a side glance, "Now that you're done psychoanalyzing me, mind showing me this Men of Letters research you stumbled upon? I mean, being a creature that's been around since the inception of demons, I kinda'd like to know how humans discovered a way of getting rid of them without getting rid of them."
Sam snorted and stood, "Hairless apes knowing more than you hit below the belt?"
Gabriel hummed.
Sam still felt bad, because of Dean's situation and how much it sucked, but bantering with Gabriel at least provided some lift in his mood. He knew Dean'd be using Jim, Jack, Johnny and Jose to lift his. Not the healthiest way, but...
"Well, we could forego the research portion and I just show you the video they made of the procedure."
"Ooh," Gabriel replied, eyebrows raised. "There any popcorn?"
"We had some once, but Cas kinda beat ya to it."
"Figures. Why'd he get it, anyway? He's an angel."
Sam waited a moment before informing him, "So are you..."
Gabriel scoffed and shrugged in a manner that asked, 'What does that have to do with anything?' Sam simply nodded at him and then turned to fetch the old projector from the storage room. He paused a few steps away, refaced Gabriel, and pointed at his laptop.
"Don't touch."
He made it two more steps before he turned and added:
"And don't conjure popcorn."
"Geh! You can't watch a movie without popcorn! It's a sin!"
"No, it isn't."
"It should be!"
Sam rolled his eyes and finally went on his way.
He only hoped Gabriel would do as he was told. For once. The last thing they needed was their ace in the hole wasting his power on a snack. The last thing Gabriel needed was to weaken himself. It was in everyone's best interest if the popcorn stayed nonexistent.
When he returned to foyer, film and small projector in hand, Gabriel was, thankfully, right where Sam had left him. Granted, he was sitting down and looking like the most bored being on the face of the planet, but he was still there. And Sam's laptop was still closed, pushed towards the far end of the map table. Good. Gabriel could follow directions, after all.
Sam requested that Gabriel follow him into the library, where it would be easier to use the projector. Gabriel dragged himself out of his chair as if he were straining against quicksand. Sam made sure to comment that moving wasn't going to kill him. Gabriel quipped that he never knew, it just might. Sam sighed at the other's theatrics.
Gabriel didn't conjure any popcorn all throughout the short video of the Man of Letters performing the ritual. In fact, he watched with rapt attention, his face amazingly unexpressive. He didn't flinch at the grotesque scenarios the demon talked about; the screams didn't bother him. Sam realized that, maybe, that was because Gabriel was also the Trickster. He knew how to do bad, too. Even if not in the same vein as a demon. It was a slightly worrying thought.
What was worse was that Sam foolishly wanted to hope that he was wrong about that darkness in Gabriel. It was almost a failing of his, wanting to see the good in people, or monsters. The situation with the Grace hadn't helped matters. After all, he got to see the personality of a Gabriel, as the Grace had said, that still had it in him to hope. Sam wondered if he could get Gabriel to do that again.
Knowing his luck, he'd just get his hand bitten again.
When the film ended, Sam shut off the projector. Gabriel merely blinked as he continued to stare at the spot on the wall where the image had been. He smirked briefly.
"Human ingenuity's really somethin', isn't it?" Gabriel asked.
"What do you mean?" Sam frowned, confused as to what brought on that statement.
"An angel's Grace is too strong to purify a soul," he explained, finally looking at Sam. "That's why we smite. We...overcook. Too much juice and pfft. Charbroiled.
"But this person," he pointed briefly at the wall, "or the Men of Letters, came up with the idea to use a soul to purify a soul. I mean, as corny and gushy as it sounds, they literally thought that the power of love and divine forgiveness would wash away the sins. Heh, and the funny thing is that it worked."
Gabriel shook his head in amusement, "Sure the Beatles would love to hear that."
"But will it work on Dean?"
Gabriel stared at him for a few seconds. Silent. Not blinking. It was kinda creeping Sam out.
"If push comes to shove," Gabriel reiterated. "Yeah. If you do it, yeah."
Sam nodded. Good. That was good. At least, that was better than the alternative. He was sure Dean wouldn't want to... To become a demon and kinda be fed his brother's blood, and Sam really didn't like the idea of giving Dean his blood, but... If it had to be done, it had to be done.
"By the way," Gabriel began. "Any weird dreams last night?"
Sam's eyes widened a little before he schooled his expression. He did, however, forget to not fidget nervously. Gabriel didn't miss his reaction. That stare of his only seemed to intensify.
"Yeah?" Sam asked, unsure of why he was being questioned. "Like, I mean... It wasn't lucid. So, that's a plus, right? There were some places I haven't been to before. Not unusual. Dream me was kind of a jerk. But, sometimes it was more reactionary jerkishness. I saw Lucifer for a bit, but he didn't do anything to me. That part was weird..."
"I think jerk's probably a little light of a sentence coming from you, Sam."
Sam frowned, "What?"
Gabriel smirked, "Lemme guess: Lotta cold places?"
Sam's face became blank as he realized, "I dream walked again, didn't I?"
"Yup."
"I - " Sam stammered, bringing his hands to his face. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, I..."
He dropped his hands to glare accusingly at the Archangel.
"Why didn't you stop me?"
Gabriel shrugged with a shoulder, "Already told you: I ain't doin' anything you don't want me to. Your subconscious wants to take a little stroll through my head? I'll let it. Though, it is really weird having your brain poked while still conscious. Usually, it's the other way around for me."
Sam huffed, "And how do I know you didn't just let me do that so I could strengthen my powers, or whatever?"
Gabriel smiled, "I find your suspicion of me endearing. Keep using that brain of yours, Sam. However, you're wrong with that accusation. Eh, sorta wrong."
"You wanna elaborate?"
"You walked into my head on accident. If you want to stop using your powers, you have to learn how to control them first. To keep from using them on accident."
"So that I don't accidentally make them escalate too far," Sam mumbled.
"Bingo."
Sam sighed. He was exhausted. It was the start of the day and he was exhausted. Crawling back to bed and hiding under the covers sounded like a really good idea. Unfortunately, running from his problems never made them go away. And he really didn't want to drift back off into dreamland while Dean was still out, probably at the closest bar he could find.
Hell, he didn't even want to go back to dreamland. He tended to wander when there.
"Okay, well. Now what?" He asked lifelessly.
"Mmm, I say we go get popcorn and watch that Game of Thrones DVD set you have hidden in your drawers."
"What is with you and the popcorn? Why were you in my drawers?"
Gabriel smirked suggestively.
"Out of the gutter!"
Gabriel stuck his tongue out at him and then got out of his chair. Sam wondered where he was going for a moment until he realized that that was the direction of the garage. Where the cars were. That Gabriel probably wanted them to take so they could go get popcorn. Yay.
With a groan, Sam pushed himself up and followed after the Archangel. He made sure to leave a note and a text telling Dean where they were going, just in the off-chance that Dean got back before they did.
