OK, news!
When this story is complete, it's being repackaged as an actual novel you can buy from the shops! I'm like wooooooooooo –dances-
Once again, I own nothing, except the idea.
--
Dean lay in the motel room, watching the trees wave in the gentle breeze out of the window. In the bed across from him Sam snored gently, lying on his back in the middle of the bed, one arm curled against his chest, the other flung away from him, hanging off the edge of the bed, like his feet. Even since he'd hit eighteen or nineteen, Dean's kid brother had outgrown pretty much every motel room bed in the lower forty eight. And not to mention the tubs. Sam hadn't had a bath in seven years, having to crouch in the tiny shower instead that he dwarfed regardless.
Dean huffed in irritation and sat up, pushing the covers so they pooled in his lap instead of sticking to his chest. He couldn't sleep, and he knew why. Those damn dreams had freaked him out more than dreams should. He knew if he slept, the dreams would come back. And although a part of him longed to find out who the owner of the curly brown hair and hazel eyes where, a bigger part of him told him the dreams were bad, and he should stay away.
Sighing, he clambered out of bed and pulled a pair of jeans, a three inch hole in one of the knees, on and opened the motel door quietly, venturing into the cool autumn air. It blew against his bare chest, and he scratched idly at the skin underneath his amulet, where the cord knot rested at the base of his neck, where it had been since December 1992, when he'd ripped open the newspaper wrapping and found it nestling in his hand. It had been, and still was, the best Christmas present he'd ever received.
'Dean.'
He spun round at the sound of his name, hand automatically going to the waistband of his jeans and finding nothing. He cursed internally, he'd forgotten to snag his handgun. He looked up into the face of his possible attacker, tensing when he saw it was Gabriel, or The Tricksters as he was now known. Putting on a grin, he feigned cockiness until he knew why the angel was here. 'Gabe! Enjoy your shower?'
Gabriel's face darkened momentarily and he took a step towards the smaller man. 'This isn't a time for your 'witty jokes',' he growled, dropping the quote marks neatly into the sentence. 'Castiel tells me you've been having dreams?' he continued, his tone lighter suddenly.
Dean frowned, instantly defensive. 'And if I have? What do you winged douches care? Where is Cas, anyway?'
'My brother is... elsewhere. He's still not given up on this pointless quest of his.' Gabriel replied, perturbed.
'Oh, right, right, finding God.' A thought occurred to Dean. 'Hey, you're an archangel. Not just a regular angel.'
'Ding ding ding!' Gabriel snarked. 'Give the man a prize! What tipped you off? Was it the name? I bet it was the name. Gabriel, such a giveaway, I should have known-'
Dean interrupted his rant, scowling. 'When you're done with your open mic session, can I talk?'
Gabriel gestured with his hands. 'By all means.'
'Archangels become archangels when they see God, right?' A curt nod from Gabriel prompted him to continue. 'Then you know what God looks like.' Another nod. 'Then, why aren't you helping him?'
Something dimmed in Gabriel's eyes as he looked at his feet. 'I looked. For centuries, god...' he paused. 'god knows I looked for him. He's not here, Winchester. If he was, I would have found him.' The cloud passed over his handsome features and he looked up again, the Trickster glint back in his eyes. 'But we're not here to talk about that.'
Dean threw himself back on track. 'Yeah. I assume there is a reason you're here at,' He checked his watch 'three seventeen in the morning?'
'Uh-huh. The dreams you've been having.'
Dean threw his hands up in frustration. 'OK, seriously! How does Cas know about them? And more to the point, how do you know about them? Is there some sort of celestial Skype or something going on up there?' He jerked his thumb upwards, towards the sky.
Gabriel sniggered. 'Someth'n' like that. But the point is, we know.' His face became solemn, all traces of the perennial joker faded from his face. 'The fact that you're even having these dreams is a bad sign. A very bad sign.'
'Ok, first of all, it's not dreams. Just dream. Singular. And why are my dreams so important? I mean, I know I'm supposed to be the saviour and Michael's sword and shit like that, but seriously? I have one dream and heaven has its religious panties in a bunch. I mean, that's nine kinds of crazy, man.'
'It might seem crazy to you, but these dreams are a-'
'A bad sign, yeah, you told me. But why? And what's it a bad sign of?'
'The apocalypse.'
Dean groaned. 'Haven't we been through this? Look around you! Too little, too late, pal. The apocalypse is happening!'
'Oh please. This isn't an apocalypse. This is the appetizer to the big ole end of the world main fucking course!'
Dean scowled again. 'So, what now? And will you please tell me why you keep coming back to my freakin' dream?!'
'You dreamt of a time you were not supposed to remember. Not yet.' Dean turned at the deep voice to see the young angel standing in the wood, emerging looking slightly dishevelled, as always.
'How can I remember something I never lived?' he asked.
'Because it wasn't you living it.' Gabriel chipped in, and Dean glanced back at him. He really wasn't comfortable with the archangel standing behind him. The confusion must have been clear on Dean's face, because Gabriel sighed and continued. 'Not in this meat suit, anyway.'
'So, what, a past life?'
Gabriel laughed. 'You're smarter than I gave you credit for. Not one past life. Endless past lives.'
'And future lives.' Cas added, moving round to stand next to Gabriel. 'An uncountable number of lives, constantly being reborn, an endless cycle of bodies until either you end, or he does.'
'I swear to God,' Dean started, noting the slight flinch both angels gave at the blasphemy. 'I will end both of you if you don't stop talking in damn riddles!'
Castiel merely cocked his head, unfamiliar with the term but gathering the meaning from the tone of voice. Gabriel's grin only got wider, before dropping it and explaining. 'You are one of two immortal souls. It wasn't by chance that you're Michael's sword. You were born to save the world, you are always reborn to save the world. Though, why fate picked you,' Gabriel snorted. 'is anyone's guess.'
'Eat me,' Dean snapped.
'No thanks, I try not to eat other angel's meatsuits.' Gabriel smirked.
Dean laughed, but there was no humour in it. 'You bastard.'
'Hello? Angel?' Gabriel replied, pointing at himself.
Cas' gaze hardened at that, Dean noticed, but he just glared at Gabriel. 'No wonder you got kicked out of heaven. I bet the other angels were just rolling out the kegs and party poppers.'
'I wasn't kicked out, I chose to leave!' Gabriel snarled through gritted teeth.
'Yeah, that's what you tell people, but I bet they could wait to see the back of you.' Dean smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.
'You have no idea why I left, you stupid, stupid son of a bitch!' Gabriel bellowed.
Dean snapped. Dodging Cas' interference attempt. He grabbed Gabriel by his collar and slammed him against a tree, lifting him half a foot off the ground. 'Don't you ever talk about my mother again! Ever!'
'Ooh, that's a sore spot.' Gabriel chuckled. 'Kinda like when you mention my father, it hurts, doesn't it?'
Dean,' Cas said quietly, from behind him.
'Well, looks like we're all learning new things today. You want some proof you're not one hundred percent pure, home-grown human?' Gabriel asked, his tone back to the jokey timbre of The Trickster.
'Go nuts.' Dean snarled, his rage going nowhere.
'Take a good long look at yourself. This body weighs about two hundred pounds, give or take about ten pounds. And you're lifting me six inches off the floor. With one hand. Ain't no real human can do that. Not unless you got some God given help.'
Dean loosened his grip on Gabriel, who fell to the floor, landing nimbly on his feet, like a cat. 'What am I?' Dean asked.
'Salvation.' Cas answered, moving to grip Dean on the shoulder, the same shoulder he had branded his handprint on eighteen months ago. 'You're our salvation.'
--
Best, you've got to be the best, you've got to change the world, and you use this chance to be heard, your time is now. Change, everything you are, and everything you were, your number has been called, fights and battles have begun, revenge will surely come, your hard times are ahead.
--
Update coming soon! Guess the song?
