Truly I tell you, some who are standing here will not taste death before they see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom. ~Matthew 16:28
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He's not sure where he is, but it's bright and windy and too-quiet-where-is-all-the-screaming. Dirt caked in layers he sure would never come out - a side-effect of literally crawling out of his grave. And dammit, Cassie, didn't he say give him a hunter's funeral?
Once his eyes adjusted, he could see the broken clearing that looked like some giant had used for belly-flopping practice. If it wasn't for the whole-ish feeling and the birds chirping somewhere in the distance, Gabriel would've thought this Alistair's latest and greatest torture.
He choked and gasped and dry-heaved when he tried to call out to whatever finally got around to saving his sorry butt - dehydration was a bitch. He need water, and some candy hopefully, and a ride so he could haul ass to Sioux Falls and find out what shitt-fest his well-meaning little sister had gotten into this time. 'Cause last time he checked, dead men don't get up and start breathing again in a perfectly fine body after forty years.
Jess. Jess and Bobby would know what to do. And if they didn't, they would have a contact that did. Maybe that Joshua guy or ol' Jimbo would know what to do. He had to get to Bobby's first, though.
One shaky foot in front of the other, Gabriel slowly traversed the clearing, the deserted highway beyond, and into an old, dusty gas stop that probably hadn't been open since the nineties. But that's okay; water and twinkies were practically the only things that didn't start rotting.
A box of sugar and two giant things of water later, Gabriel was looking at untamed hair and too-old eyes for the body they were set in. God, he hadn't aged a day. Cassie would be old by now - well, older - if she was even…
No. Sweet, oblivious, stuck in the fifteen hundreds Cassie wouldn't be dead. Bet she bought a house next to Jess and got herself a boy-toy for company, he thought fondly, a little grin twitching at his lips. The hunter wondered what happened to Bobby's daughter and the mysterious guy she thought so fondly of. Sam, was it? Or was it John? He couldn't remember what name she had given him.
Thinking of his family strengthened his resolve to drive like a bat outta, well, Hell so he could see them in the morning. Forty years was plenty long to spend apart.
As he was making his exit, stage left, a horrible shrieking started up, stabbing into his skull like a thousand little needles. Gabriel stumbled around blindly as something warm on coppery trickled down his neck. Great.
Was this a new monster cropping up?
Just when he didn't think it could get any worse, a deep bass rattled the building, almost sounding scoulding of his other assailant. He would've thanked his hopefully savior if any thought or action could have make it past the white noise.
Something hot flashed across his upper arm and Gabriel screamed. It was a soul-weary cry only torn from the worst victims in Hell, astral pain given a physical form. He didn't think he had enough of a soul left to do that.
Quick as it came, the pain was gone. Gabriel was left a shaking mess, curled up small like they like him, tears and snot and maybe a little drool left on his face. This had to be a new torture method. Had he not done well enough on his last victim?
It melted away, though, when a pair of warm, strong arms wrapped around him like a father comforting a child that fell off a bike. They soothed his tired soul and he never in a million years would admit to leaning into them. Blinded by tears, Gabriel couldn't see the guy, but the old hymn his mother used to sing was loud and clear.
"I am truly sorry, my little charge, for I have not been here in your time of need." It was everything the hunter wished his father would do. "I shan't tarry too far from you and yours again."
Gabriel was too exhausted to even question the strange, paternal dude rocking back and forth on the floor of a dusty, beat-up gas station not an hour after coming back from the dead. So tired, in fact, that he didn't notice the thunder rumbling in the clear skies overhead or the jolly green giant watching, subdued, from a corner.
The last thing he saw before going under was two bright blue eyes and sandy hair.
Loki rose and eyebrow at the pile of leaky hunter and flustered archangel before him. "This puts a crimp in the 'incognito' plan."
"Shuddup, bitch. We'll just do what we do best: make shit up as we go along."
He crossed his arms with a light, sad smile. "Dunno, Thor, think big bro's gonna finally open up the gates for a couple a' prodigal sons?"
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Another plant was yanked from the ground with astounding force. Tending Uncle Bobby's tiny garden had always been a favorite past-time of her's, as well as getting her first pick of the rare herbs that come out of it. There wouldn't be any, however, if she didn't get the plant creeping into the soil taken care of.
Jess sighed from a few feet over. "How did we even get wandering jew here? Isn't that pretty tropical?"
"Dunno." Cassie shrugged. "I thought it was, but the last few weeks have proved me wrong on that account."
A crunching sound behind them caused Jess to huff angrily and turn on their guest. "Ya know, you could help instead of eating all my chips."
Dean blinked innocently with big, dewy eyes and gestured at the flimsy wrap around on of his wrists. "You gotta be kidding. Doc put me on house rest for my wrist, or did you miss that?"
Cassie valiantly tried to hide her snort.
"'Sides," Dean told her with a significant look at her leather cuff. "You've got the greenest thumb out of the group, Ms. Moore."
Teeth gnashed in a parody of a smile, the hunter threw a clod of earth at him. "Well at least enlighten us to your theory, as you so obviously have one."
That perked the younger woman right up. After all, a good theory might be just the distraction she needed after the failed summoning two weeks ago. She even pulled off her gloves in anticipation.
"Far as I can figure," he started nonchalantly, cheeks puffed with food, "This shit pops up in non-indigenous areas whenever the Wandering Jew spends any length of time in a joint."
"Wandering Jew?"
Jess snorted. "It's an old bedtime story my grammy used to tell the cousins and I. 'Bout as real as Big Foot, it you ask me."
Suddenly serious green eyes squinted at Jess before sliding to look at the smudge of dirt on excited Cassie's face softly. "Not a hoax, I'll tell you that. I met 'im years ago when he posed as some preacher man. I never stayed in touch, but the word on the grapevine is that he's hunting right now."
Cassie made a motion for them to stop. "Who the heck is the Wandering Jews?!"
Jess sighed, rubbing her forehead with the back of her hand and she sat on her heels. "There's this legend that a jew taunted Jesus on his way to crucifixion and was cursed by God to walk the Earth until Revelations for his sins. That he wanders from place to place, looking for peace."
Her mind whirled a thousand miles a minute as she recalled the old legend and fit it to what she knew. A man posing as a preacher-turned-hunter, the plants in the garden, Winchester's meandering tendencies. The fact he told her two nights ago he would give up hunting if only humanity could be left to their tranquility. Oh yeah; she knew exactly who the Wandering Jew was pretending to be.
"Sam Winchester - gotta be."
Dean's eyes widened comically. "Did you say Sammy?"
Jess nodded, confused, waiting for Cassie's new boy toy to stop spacing out and answer her. 'Just Dean' didn't elaborate, however, and instead sunk to his knees, hissing in pain. Thunder rolled over head as a cold breeze swept through the yard.
Cassie threw her tools to the ground and sprinted towards him. "Dean!"
He waved her off, pinching his nose to alleviate mounting tension. "'M fine, sweet cheeks, just a headache. Think I'll leave you two lovely ladies to it and take a nap."
Cassie worriedly helped him in, leaving a scowling Jess behind. Something was fishy - Dean claimed to have known the Wandering Jew, but acted surprised at the name Sam Winchester. No, at the name Sam specifically. Sammy. And now, she had to wait for Cassie to stop mother-henning the jerk to get some answers.
Car doors slammed shut on the front drip, but Rummy didn't start his ceremonial barking. Shot gun in hand, she turned the corner -