"Atta boy!" exclaimed Gabriel, seemingly having regained his exuberant spirits after the sudden bout of seriousness. "In that case, let's get on with business, shall we? There's no point in keeping poor Sammy waiting any longer," he said, walking purposefully towards Sam's prone body, where it lay on the mossy floor.
"Don't call him that!" Dean growled, walking with long strides to keep up with the surprisingly agile Angel. He felt overcome by a sudden rush of unexpected protectiveness toward his temporarily helpless little brother.
"Okay okay, hot-shot," smirked Gabriel, raising both hands in a gesture of mock-surrender. "Don't get you panties in a twist or anything."
Dean fumed internally but kept himself from voicing the retort that sprang automatically to his lips, as they finally came up beside Sam's body. The short Angel might've been a dick but at the moment he held Sam's life in his hands, quite literally, and Dean couldn't afford to provoke him into changing his mind. His verbal retribution could wait until Sam was alive and breathing once again.
As they stopped walking, Gabriel gestured to his companion in the trench-coat. "Wanna do the honours, little brother?"
"As you wish," replied the Angel Castiel taking a step forward, in the same soft, gravelly tone he had used before, which somehow inspired more confidence in Dean than all of Gabriel's imposing bluster combined. There seemed to be a quiet sort of reliability about Castiel that made it impossible for Dean to distrust the scrawny, dishevelled guy with a fashion-sense decades out of date.
"C-can you really do it? Can you really save him?" asked Dean, a little fearfully, now that the time for action had finally arrived. He was almost afraid to hope. He didn't think he would survive it, if after coming so close to getting his brother back, he were to lose him all over again.
"Don't you worry Dean-o!" assured Gabriel with a sudden, hearty clap to his back that made Dean almost jump out of his own skin in surprise. "Castiel here is one of the best Healers in Heaven, besides being a soldier. He'll bring your brother back in a jiffy," he said, snapping his fingers in demonstration.
Dean sighed. Not that he could blame anyone; it had been his mistake to ask Gabriel a question. Almost of their own accord, his eyes wandered over to Castiel, where the other Angel was hovering over his little brother.
As he watched, Castiel went down on one knee, kneeling noiselessly beside Sam. He was so quiet in all his movements, as though he were almost weightless, ethereal – his physical body just an illusion. Slowly, he held out both his hands, palms down, over Sam's chest, and a soft glow emanated from his outstretched palms, illuminating Sam's deathly white features. Even as they watched, the preternatural light brightened slowly until it had become almost blinding in its intensity, and Dean had to shield his eyes to keep them from being burned out by the divine glow.
"Sam! What's happening?" Dean cried, moving blindly towards his brother, unable to stand by as the mysterious light shrouded his body from view.
"Don't!" warned Gabriel, holding out an arm to block Dean's way, strong and immovable as a steel barricade.
"Let me go!" roared Dean, pushing against his captor with all his might. "That's my brother you bastard! What's he doing to him?"
"Saving him," answered Gabriel authoritatively. Then, in a softer, kinder tone, he added, "Have faith".
For some reason, those words froze Dean, making him stop struggling; and breathing heavily he watched transfixed as the fierce light covering Sam dimmed slowly, revealing him lying motionless and still on the floor as Castiel kneeled over him, just as they had been moments ago.
"What happened? What the fuck did you do to him?" Dean demanded, rushing over blindly to Sam's side and falling to his knees beside his brother, opposite Castiel. "Did it work?" he asked in almost a whisper, as if afraid to say the words out loud.
"Watch," said Gabriel softly, coming up behind Dean.
As three pairs of eyes watched him, Sam's chest began to rise and fall minutely with shallow breaths. His eyelids flickered and a soft, almost inaudible moan escaped his lips – prompting Dean to lean forward instinctively, whispering soothing words into Sam's ears.
Eventually, Sam's eyes opened fully, and the recently revived Winchester gazed around dazedly, his face a mask of utter confusion.
"Where–" he began, trying to lift himself off the ground, but before he could finish his question he was unceremoniously enveloped by a pair of very strong arms, followed by a very dusty brother. "Dean!" he exclaimed, first in surprise, but then again in relief – at finally being back at his brother's side, exactly where he belonged. The last time he saw his brother he had not been sure he would survive. Hell, he'd not been sure Dean would survive, surrounded as they'd both been by wild demons. Speaking of which–
"Sam!" Dean's voice distracted him, the word coming out in a choked sob, as if wrenched out of his brother's throat by force. "Sam, thank God! You're okay. You're back!"
"Yeah Dean I'm – wait what?" Sam demanded, coming up short at Dean's words. "I'm...back? Back from where? Where had I gone?"
"I-I meant you're okay, man, ya know. I mean those demons had gotten you pretty good there–" Dean began with the feeble attempt at a joke, desperately looking for a way out.
"Put your foot in your mouth again there, didn't you Dean-o?" Gabriel asked, grinning, even as Castiel quietly averted his eyes to give the brothers some privacy.
As soon as his eyes landed on the two strangers, Sam was up in a flash, hands searching subconsciously for a weapon even as he spoke. "Dean, what the hell did you do? Who are these people? Dean, for God's sake tell me you didn't make another deal," he asked urgently, almost pleading.
"Sammy, listen to me. It isn't like that, I can explain," began Dean, his voice tinged with equal urgency, rising to his feet after Sam and coming to stand between him and the Angels.
"Oh yeah?" asked Sam, eyes fixed on the strangers, readying himself for a fight, his hands having finally found his discarded knife. "Explain what, huh? Explain how you sold your soul for me? AGAIN?! Explain how I'm gonna have to watch you being hunted down and torn apart by hellhounds; how I'm gonna have to live with your blood on my hands, AGAIN? Explain that?" Sam was screaming now, his body shaking with suppressed rage and terror at the prospect of losing his brother. "Well all of that can wait until I've knifed these bastards back to Hell, where they belong!"
"Sam no!" Dean exclaimed, throwing himself securely between the Angels and his brother, who seemed ready to lunge at any moment. "I'm telling you, it's not like that! It's not what you think, Sammy. They're not demons."
"Then what the hell are they, huh? What did you make a deal with this time? What's worse than demons?" Sam demanded fiercely. Then, deflating as quickly as he had flown into a killing rage, he whispered in a defeated tone, "Why couldn't you just let me die, Dean?"
"Sammy! Don't you ever say that, ya hear me?" Dean growled, gripping his brother by the shoulders. "We're in this together, man! You and me, just like we always have been. I'm never leaving you behind, no matter what!"
"Touching as it is, all this brotherly passion, the second part of our deal is still pending, remember Dean-o?" interrupted Gabriel, between fits of laughter, tears running down his cheeks. "Oh man! You two could have your own soap, you know that?" he giggled.
"Why you filthy demon–" Sam roared, flying at Gabriel, knife in hand.
Even as Dean reached out to stop his brother, with a flick of Gabriel's finger Sam's body froze mid-air, his arm pulled back with the knife, ready to strike.
"I'm an Angel, I'll have you know," Gabriel said primly, plucking the knife nimbly out of Sam's frozen hand. "And good boys don't play with such dangerous things," he continued, patronizingly patting Sam's head – unfreezing him with the touch.
"What've you done to my brother, you sneaky bastard?" Dean demanded, advancing towards Gabriel threateningly, even as Sam regained movement in his body, looking around himself confusedly once again.
"–the fuck just happened?" he muttered, looking down at himself with a bewildered frown. "What the hell kind of demons are you?"
"For the last bloody time – We. Are. Not. Demons," repeated Gabriel once again through gritted teeth, obviously annoyed. "We're Angels! And as such, can smite both your puny mortal asses to the deepest pits of Hell if you don't show us some bloody respect. NOW!"
"Hey, okay man! We get it yeah? Chill," Dean muttered, both hands raised and moving imperceptibly away from the raging Angel, pulling his brother back with him.
"Angels?" Sam repeated confused, looking from Gabriel to Castiel with an air of bewildered curiosity. "As in, the Biblical kind? The soldiers of God? Heavenly Host type Angels?"
"Finally! Someone who's actually read the bloody Instruction Manual Daddy provided to explain the Divine shit-fest to your puny brains!" Gabriel said with what seemed like genuine relief. "Yep, that's exactly the kind we are," he finished with a mock bow.
"S-so I was saved by Angels?" Sam exclaimed, looking at his brother with eyes full of wonder.
"Yeah well, no need to get all gooey over it. They ain't no better than the average run-off-the-mill Hell-spawn," Dean spat scornfully.
"Dean!" Sam squeaked, scandalised – looking cautiously from Gabriel to Castiel for any sign of divine wrath.
"Don't worry about it," Gabriel told Sam with a longsuffering sigh. "Your brother has the manners of an ill-trained ape. In that regard he is beyond help."
"Says the guy making secret supernatural deals in the dead of the night in a forest in the middle of nowhere," countered Dean sarcastically. "Your gentleman-like manners astound me!"
"And that reminds me," interrupted Gabriel, cutting off the rest of Dean's tirade. "We have business to take care of, people. Being an Angel is hectic business, y'know. I haven't got all day."
"Dean, I don't get it. What's going on? What business is he talking about? What did you do?" Sam pleaded, an edge of desperation slipping into his voice as he tried to figure out the situation.
"Alrighty then, what do you want?" asked Dean stiffly, without answering Sam or even looking in his direction. His eyes met Gabriel's directly, showing courage he did not feel. Suddenly, his palms felt sweaty and his breathing quickened. A heavy weight seemed to have settled somewhere in his chest. It wasn't that he was regretting his decision. If need be, he would make this same deal a thousand times over to keep Sam safe, no matter what the consequences. But it was finally time to keep his end of the bargain, and Dean had no idea what Gabriel had in mind. Failure wasn't an option, but he wasn't sure he was capable of fulfilling an Angel's expectations. What did an Angel want with a guy like him, anyway?
"Your soul," answered Gabriel promptly.
"What?" demanded Sam, stepping in front of his brother protectively, his posture defensive. He would die before watching his brother sell his soul for him once again. "I thought you said you weren't Demons!"
"Oh dear Daddy! Will you hear me out?" asked the Angel plaintively. "I can see why those poor Demons wanted to do you two in once and for all. You try the sweetest of tempers," he moaned.
"What, like yours?" Dean smirked, but quieted quickly at Gabriel's wrathful glare.
"Zip it, Winchester," the Angel commanded. "As I was saying, I need you to form a soul-bond with my little bro Castiel, here" he said, gesturing at the other Angel, who remained as impassive as ever.
"Eh? What?" questioned Dean, with an air of such utter and complete confusion that Gabriel took pity on him.
"Well, see, it's like this. Daddy's been MIA for a quite while now, right around the time Jesus got himself nailed up on a Cross. Guess the shock was too much for him. Well anywho, crux of the matter is, before He left, He left some instructions for the kids back home. No fightin', no drinkin', no smitin'; you know how parents are. No fun, that's how.
"And surprise surprise. Turns out, some of the kids didn't like the rules all that much. Daddy's gone, He ain't coming back no more – so say all the rumours in the Gardens of Paradise. Some of the kids are growing restless. They wanna play by their own rules now. Re-design Heaven, reclaim the earth and get rid of all those pesky humans. Throw a big fat party to impress all the cool kids, you get the picture. Some of them want to free li'l bro Lucifer now, to realise his grand vision of annihilating the human race. Long story short – there's Civil War in Heaven, Dean-o! And the fate of the entire world, of the universe as you know it, depends on which side wins."
For a moment, both the Winchesters were dumbstruck, too shocked by the story to say anything. Until now, the whole Angel thing had seemed like some kind of an elaborate dream. Even though he had seen their wings, Dean had never actually grasped the magnitude of what he was getting into, preoccupied as he had been with his brother's wellbeing. Now though, there was no getting away from it. He had bitten off a Hell of a lot more than he could ever hope to chew!
Soon however, Dean regained his voice, and began with visible bravado, "Oh yeah? And which side are you on?"
"Us? Oh we're the good kids. Perfectly obedient and all that shit. Although I hear it's a lot more fun on the other side. But Mikey's in a mighty-smitey mood right now, and personally, I'd rather not be blown to bits anytime soon."
"'Mikey' as in...the Archangel Michael?" asked Sam hesitantly.
"Yep. Got it in one, kiddo!" said Gabriel appreciatively. "Besides, I kinda like you mud-monkeys! 'Least you're amusing, which is more than I can say for all my grumpy bros back home," he sighed.
"Even if everything you've just said is true, which for the record, I'm very far from believing right now," began Dean. "Where the Hell do we fit into the picture? As you keep saying, we're just puny mortals. How the effin' Hell do you expect us to help in an Angelic civil war?"
"Oh Dean-o! Such touching humility!" Gabriel sighed dramatically. "As it happens, puny humans you might be, but you're not just any puny human. You're special!"
"Special how?" demanded Sam, seriously worried now. He didn't completely understand what was going on yet, but he did know that he didn't like any of it.
"Well you see, Castiel here is the youngest Angel in Heaven. He was created after dear brother Lucy fell from grace, the only Angel to have been created after the Fall. And because Daddy simply couldn't resist the urge to screw us all one last time, Castiel's grace is the key to Lucifer's cage; he's the only Angel who can set Lucifer free."
At Gabriel's words, Dean's eyes snapped over to Castiel. He had always felt that there was something different about the other Angel. He seemed somehow purer than Gabriel, more innocent, more curious and less judgemental about everything he saw around him. Dean could never have imagined the actual reason for that feeling, however. It left him completely flabbergasted.
This time, Sam found his tongue before Dean. "Yeah, but all of that doesn't explain why Dean and I need to be involved in this."
"It will if you let me finish, for a change," snapped the older Angel. "As you can imagine, the faction of Angels that want Lucifer freed are after Castiel's grace, and that is the one thing they cannot be allowed to have. If Lucifer is freed, the human race is as good as extinct. Even if Mikey manages to beat Lucy and shove him back into the cage, the Earth will not be able to sustain the damage caused by a direct showdown between the two most powerful beings in Creation. This planet, hell, maybe the solar system will be ancient history before you can say goose," he explained, rather enthusiastically, considering the topic.
"Well, so why don't you hide him somewhere safe then, until this whole thing blows over and we can all go back to our lives?" asked Dean.
"Hide him where? What nook or cranny of the universe is beyond the reach of half the Heavenly Host when they are determined to find their target? This constant hide-and-seek has depleted our numbers drastically; and surprising as it may seem to you, I don't exactly enjoy killing my brothers, even if they are misguided idiots," Gabriel sighed, a tinge of genuine sorrow colouring his voice for the first time.
"So what's the alternative?" asked Sam, trying but failing to think of any viable solution to the problem. How did you hide something from a bunch of super-powered beings who could go anywhere, do anything? It seemed nigh-impossible.
"There was a prophecy," began Gabriel, taking a deep breath. He seemed tired, suddenly; much older than his physical age. "The soul that hath been tried by Hell-fire shall protect that which Divinity doth desire."
"A soul that's been tried by Hell-fire..." murmured Sam, comprehension slowly dawning on his face.
"You got it kiddo!" said Gabriel. "No prizes for guessing who's the only living soul on Earth who's been to Hell and back, literally; and is still alive and kicking. So you see, Dean Winchester, the fate of both Heaven and Earth rests on your shoulders. The only way to prevent the rebelling Angels from getting hold of Castiel and freeing Lucifer is for you to bind your soul with his grace. That way, he will be beyond the reach of the Angels. Even if they found him, his grace being attached to your soul, they wouldn't be able to use it for their purpose. You see? Surely that's a simple enough concept even for your tiny brain to grasp without much trouble."
"But why me?" Dean demanded stubbornly. "Why does it have to be me? Surely you can do this same trick with almost any human on earth. Hell, I daresay you could find enough idiots on this planet who'd be happy to be soul-bound with a feathery-assed Angel. And since I'm obviously not one of them, why not just let me go and find some church-going type for your job, yeah?"
"Are you really this stupid? Can it be; or is this just some elaborate facade to annoy me to death?" asked Gabriel in exasperation. "Hell, if I didn't know better, I'd say you're one of the Rebels in disguise. It's just that none of my dim-witted bros are smart enough to come up with something like this!
"An Angel's grace is powerful. Intense. Ordinary souls, being bound to an Angel's grace, would destroy themselves even before the process could be completed. Human souls were not designed to withstand that kind of pure, unfiltered energy. Usually, it'd just be too much.
"But as the prophecy says, your soul has been tried by Hell-fire. You've gone to Hell and come back, relatively unscathed. If there is one soul on Earth that could survive being bound to an Angel's grace, Dean Winchester, it's yours," he declared. "So, will you keep your end of the bargain, or not?"
"Well, do I have a choice?" asked Dean resignedly, even as Sam moved closer to his brother, protectively. But even he couldn't argue that they leave the world to be destroyed when there is a chance they could help save it.
"Not unless you want Sammy here to bid farewell to the mortal realms, you don't" answered Gabriel with a casual shrug, knowing Dean's answer even before it had left his lips.
