Three days had gone by since Sam had last seen Spencer. There hadn't been a single sign of him, not in visit and not even in text, and Sam was surprised to realize that this was the longest they'd gone without talking to one another since Spencer had joined up with 'Team Free Will'.
The brothers had decided that sticking around Bobby's wasn't what they wanted to do. Any planning or research that needed done could be done on the road. Especially considering the amazing house Spencer was lending them that they could access anywhere that had a door. When you could magically go to the same place every night, no matter where you were, why not travel around? They found themselves a case that they thought might be werewolves and set out the very same day Spencer left. To Sam's surprise, they left with two extra companions. Castiel and Gabriel both came along with them, riding in the backseat of the impala like it was the most normal thing in the world, completely ignoring the glares that Dean sent back through the mirror. It didn't take long before Sam found himself really starting to miss his quiet and polite angel.
Sam wasn't afraid to admit that he wanted his friend back for less than altruistic reasons. Sure, he was worried about him, and a good part of him wanted to see Spencer simply because he'd know then that his friend was all right. But some of his reasons were purely selfish. Until Spencer had left, Sam hadn't quite realized just how much of a buffer the young nephilim had been, especially between Gabriel and Dean. Not that Gabriel had really been around long enough for Sam to build any conclusions before, but it had seemed like they hadn't been bickering too badly during their all night planning session. Sam had actually been a little proud of his big brother for how well he was handling having Gabriel around. Especially after the massive fit that Dean had thrown after they'd first found out about the archangel.
Yeah, that pride was pretty much gone, as was any real signs of civility between the two.
He had no idea what it was about one another that grated so much with them. All he knew was that they couldn't go more than five words to one another without saying something snarky. They were bickering almost constantly. Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if Sam could've gotten a break at some point. But Gabriel was apparently taking his promise to Spencer to heart because he hadn't once left them for anything other than to let them sleep since Spencer had left. Even then, he was there when they woke up, generally sitting at the table of their motel room with his feet up and his chair tipped back, munching on some piece of candy or another. Usually something with a loud wrapper that he loved to use to irritate Dean awake.
In turn, for every sour thing that Gabriel did to Dean, each argumentative moment that he had with him, he had an equal and opposite moment with Sam. The younger Winchester thought that maybe it was because Sam was Spencer's 'charge' and so Gabriel felt more responsibility towards him. Or maybe it was that Sam didn't feel the need to fight with Gabriel every two seconds and could actually recognize when something he said was a good idea. Or maybe it was just that Sam recognized that they were in a shitty position and holding grudges against the hell Gabriel had put him through would really get him nowhere. Whatever it was, Gabriel didn't seem to feel the need to torment him the way he was Dean. If anything, he was being nice. In his own, unique, Gabriel sort of way.
He was still sarcastic, and Sam doubted that there was any force in the world that could stop that, only it was without the sharper edge to it, making it more teasing than offensive, immensely different from the sharp way that he spoke to the older Winchester. He teased him one moment, then the next would be snapping in food and telling Sam that he needed to eat because "Spencer would pitch a fit if I brought his puppy back half starved."
It wasn't just Gabriel irritating Dean, though. Dean was just as bad and just as guilty. He had a snide remark for everything Gabriel said. Every idea the archangel gave was dismissed almost instantly simply because it was him that gave it, no matter how good the idea was. In the end, it made him short with everyone else, too, because Dean never handled his irritation well. It tended to spill out on anyone within the immediate vicinity.
All in all, it left the younger Winchester in a pretty crappy position with only occasional backup from Castiel. Even that wasn't that much. When Castiel showed up, there was no doubt he showed up for Dean, and most of his time was spent in long glances that left Sam shaking his head but that he knew better than to comment on.
He finally had enough of it when they reached the fourth day. The case was done and they'd had to leave town rather quickly, but it was late enough that they were simply planning on driving a ways before finding a motel to crash at, and then they'd pick things back up in the morning and find themselves a new case. By the time they found that motel, Sam was done. A six hour car ride with two angels in the backseat and a constant battle going on between Dean and Gabriel and it left Sam ready to pull his hair out by the roots. He barely waited for Dean to park at the motel before he was out the door. "I'll get our room." Anything, to get away from them.
In no time he had their room keys and was making his way back outside, down the row to where their room sat. A gesture from him had Dean following in the car and parking right in front of their door. Sam said nothing, ignoring them all, and just tossed one of the keys to Dean. Then he grabbed his bag from the trunk and made his way quickly towards the door, ushering his brother ahead of him. He'd had enough of this. Enough of the stupid fighting and the tension and the irritation. How the hell was he supposed to work with these people when they chose to act like this? Sam was going to be eternally grateful when Spencer got back and could help play the role of buffer once more .Sam wouldn't take that for granted again.
For now, though, he had to do something before he hit someone just to shut them up. With that in mind he hurried his brother into the motel room, ignoring the annoyed sound that Dean made. "Damn, Sammy, what's the hurry?" His brother growled at him.
"Shut up." Sam snapped back. He didn't even bother to dump his bag on the bed, nor did he give Dean time to dump his. He just kept ushering him forward while at the same time reaching into his pocket for the key he never let get far from him. "I've had about enough of listening to you two bicker like freaking preschoolers. I don't care what you angels do, but Dean and I are going to the safe house. It's the safest place we know, so we don't need protection. We're going to spend the night there, he and I, away from everyone, and we'll see you guys in the morning."
Once Dean realized what he was doing, Sam didn't need to usher him forward anymore. The man strode right up to the bathroom door and stood just enough to the side for Sam to reach around him with the key.
"The safe house?" Gabriel asked from somewhere behind them. "What safe house? Where?"
Sam ignored him and jammed the key into the doorknob of the bathroom door, for once not even marveling at how it made its own lock in the smooth metal, and then with a quick twist he had it unlocked and the door open and he and Dean were striding into the safe house that Spencer had opened for their use. He found it beyond satisfying to snap the door shut behind him.
There was no telling how long it would take before anyone showed up here. According to Spencer, this place was warded to the hilt, and the sigils on their ribs would keep him from being tracked, but Castiel had come here with them last time, so he'd be able to fly in without having to use the key. Who knew whether or not he'd see the need to follow, or if Gabriel might. Sam didn't know and at the moment he didn't care what either angel wanted. He just wanted some peace.
What he hadn't expected was to find someone already there.
There wasn't a single light on in the living room when Sam walked slowly in, Dean following oddly quietly beside him. The fireplace was lit, crackling merrily against the far wall, yet the place felt obscenely cold. Cold and heavy. It was a perfect match for the foul weather raging outside. Neither Sam nor Dean had ever given in to the urge to step outside of this place. From the windows, it looked like there was real land out there, grass and trees and all of that, but they had no idea if that was what was really out there or if they were in some pocket dimension that Spencer had made. Dean had been full of warnings about potentially stepping out and getting killed or something of the like. However, real or not, right now there was a massive storm out there. Rain was pelting the house hard enough that Sam could hear the echoes of it all around him, broken by random deep booms of thunder.
Dean put an arm out in front of Sam, nudging him back just a step so that his older brother was more in front of than beside him, and the familiar gesture warmed Sam just the slightest bit. That was a gesture ingrained in Dean a long, long time ago, one of those little quirks that fell into the category of 'protect Sammy' in his mind. Even as Sam enjoyed seeing that part of his brother, a part he hadn't thought to see again, he mentally rolled his eyes over it. Who was going to be here to harm them? There was only one person that Sam could think of that would be here and they didn't have anything to fear from him.
His guesses proved right when they rounded the corner enough to see a long, lanky form stretched out over the ridiculously long couch. Spencer was on his back, feet on the armrest and crossed at the ankles, one arm tucked behind his head and the other hand holding a glass that was resting on his chest. It was hard to tell in the dim light of the room but it looked like his eyes were closed. Honestly, it looked like he was barely breathing at all, and Sam made as if to step forward only to be stopped by Dean's arm. The older Winchester kept his brother in place, keeping them back a safe distance as he called out "Spencer?"
The man on the couch didn't flinch. He didn't even open his eyes. He did, however, respond, taking away some of Sam's worry. "Winchesters." He drawled out.
There was something to his voice that Sam hadn't heard there before. Unconsciously, he rubbed at the goosebumps that rose on his arm. Spencer's voice was just as cold and heavy as the air around them seemed to be. That thought wasn't a settling one. Sam drew in a breath and tried to make his voice low and soothing as he asked "What's going on, Spencer? We haven't seen you for a few days and we've been wondering about you."
"I took a break." Spencer said flatly. Eyes still closed, he lifted his glass and down what was left in it like it was water. Sam had a strong feeling that water wasn't what was in there.
"A break." Dean echoed.
Slowly opening his eyes, Spencer turned to look over at them and Sam sucked in a breath at the look there. Oh man, something was going on here, something huge, and whatever it was, it was bad. "Yes, a break." Spencer repeated the words slowly, the sharp edge of sarcasm tinging his tone, and man he'd sounded sarcastic with Dean before but nothing like this. The young nephilim pushed himself upwards, feet dropping down to the ground. He moved with a sort of grace that Sam hadn't seen in him before, flowing like water as he rose up to his feet. Dean made as if to step back, and to take Sam with him, but Spencer didn't come towards them. He strolled over towards the bar on the side of the room. They watched as he grabbed the bottle and generously refilled his glass.
"Are you telling me…we've been out there hunting and planning and you've been hiding out here getting drunk?" Dean asked incredulously. A little hypocritically, Sam thought, considering Dean's coping mechanism, and considering that the man had most likely been planning on getting drunk tonight, too.
Spencer snorted before taking a big drink. He lowered his glass and shot Dean a look over it that was pure Trickster, hard edged and mocking with that damned raised eyebrow and the smile that seemed as much threat as anything else. "I have not spent the past few days drunk. I just got here a few hours ago. However, tonight I intend on getting very, very drunk, a sentiment I'm quite sure the two of you will understand." He took another heavy drink, emptying out his glass before refilling it once more. "Isn't it, after all, a Winchester tradition to drown one's sorrows in alcohol? Why, it's almost like I'm becoming a part of the team."
The brothers exchanged a speaking look, both of them wondering what the hell was going on here that created this and what they should do about it. Sam looked up towards the ceiling and then cocked one eyebrow, a silent question that had Dean shaking his head. Okay, so no calling in reinforcements. That meant that they were on their own with this. But what should they do? Dean gave a tiny, barely noticeable shrug, a sort of roll-with-it kind of expression on his face, and Sam stifled a sigh. Great. A drunk, obviously upset Spencer, who had a problem they had no idea about and who seemed intent on getting drunk—something that Sam knew wasn't something he indulged in, as Spencer had once told him, and something that took a hell of a lot of alcohol to achieve—and Dean didn't want to call in angelic backup. This was going to turn out just great. Just his luck that he'd come here to avoid playing referee between his brother and an archangel and now he was going to have to do the same between his brother and a nephilim.
"You two are rather creepy when you do that, I hope you know." Spencer announced, bringing their attention back towards him. He cocked his head to the side like Castiel often did when curious about something and he furrowed his eyebrows. "I wonder if that's what people think when they watch us profile someone. Hm. Interesting."
If Dean thought anything about his words, he didn't show it. He strolled forward casually and gestured towards the glass with one finger. "You gonna share any of that?"
"You might not want to stay. As I said, I plan on getting severely intoxicated, and I'm not in the most polite of moods."
"I think we can handle it."
Spencer let out a short, harsh bark of laughter. "Why not? I'd hate to be drunk alone." He pulled out another two glasses, plus a bottle of water, ignoring the look that got him. "Just one glass, though. It's Asgardian mead and I'd rather not kill you, so I'm diluting yours. Deal with it or don't drink. Your brother wouldn't be happy with me if I let you drink alcohol meant for the gods and you got alcohol poisoning. Your angel would probably try to smite me, too."
"He's not my angel."
Snorting, Spencer handed over the glass, apparently not in the mood to listen to Dean's stupid protestations that they all knew were a lie, anyways. "Just keep telling yourself that, Winchester. You're the only one that believes it. You want one too, Sam?"
Sam shook his head, still standing slightly cautiously close to Dean. "No, thank you."
"Suit yourself." Lifting his glass, Spencer didn't hesitate to down it all in one go.
What the hell was going on here? This was a side of Spencer that Sam hadn't seen before. One that didn't seem to fit the sweetly shy boy he'd slowly gotten to know. There was none of Spencer's natural shyness, none of that playfulness that he usually tried to suppress. There wasn't even any of the cockiness that Sam had noticed the nephilim adopted when he was trying to hide what he really felt. This—this was grief, he realized. He could see it in Spencer's eyes now as they locked on the fire. Little bits of gold lit from the fire's glow, but otherwise his eyes were dull, dark with a pain that was so strong it was leaking out around them. The oppressive mood in the house, the raging storm outside, they were all physical manifestations of whatever this grief was that was apparently ripping Spencer apart and sending him into hiding to drink himself into oblivion, alone.
While Sam was figuring all of this out in his head, he was distracted enough that he didn't really notice just how strong the alcohol was until it was too late. Even with watering it down and giving him a smaller dose, the alcohol was potent enough to give Dean a pretty damn good buzz with just the one drink, and that mixed together with the pissed off mood he'd been in that had steadily grown the longer he'd been forced to deal with that damn annoying Trickster, making him slightly mouthier and slightly stupider than normal. Before Sam realized and could stop him, Dean was asking "So if you just got here not long ago, where've you been the past few days? Did you forget we've kind of got an apocalypse we're fighting here? Horsemen's rings to find?"
Spencer's eyes flashed gold when they snapped to Dean. "Don't you dare talk to me about your damn apocalypse. Tonight, of all nights, don't you dare."
"Dude, what's your problem?"
Sam tugged on Dean's arm, trying to pull him back, but it was already too late and he tried not to groan out loud. Damn his brother for speaking without thinking! Couldn't he tell that now was really the absolute worst time to pull this? No, of course he couldn't. Temper and alcohol weren't a good combination in him.
"My problem?" Spencer straightened up and a loud boom of thunder sounded outside, closer than any of the others. The nephilim held himself tall and though Sam knew he was the taller of them, he stepped back as it felt like Spencer towered over them, glaring down at Dean. "You want to know what my problem is, Winchester? My problem is you and your damn war. My problem is that I've given so much of my personal time to you and your brother, to helping you save the world, that I gave up on other things. Important things. My problem!" His glass went flying, shattering in the fireplace while the whole house seemed to shake form the next blast of thunder, and Sam dragged his brother back, for the very first time actually feeling afraid in his friend's presence. Spencer stalked after them, furious eyes glaring at Dean, pinning his gaze. "My problem is that I was so damned busy saving you and your family that I let mine get ripped apart!"
The very air seemed to vibrate with the pain in those last few words. Rain was hitting the roof harder and harder until it was a wonder it wasn't coming through the roof. The thunder was directly over them now and the room was briefly lit by a sharp blast of lightning.
They had to get him calm. Sam took one small step forward, angling himself so that he was the one in front and Dean was the one protectively behind him. Right now Spencer was shouting at Dean, not Sam, and maybe removing the older Winchester might help. Sam held his hands out peacefully in front of him to try and show Spencer that he wasn't armed and he wasn't trying anything. "Spencer, man, I need you to calm down, okay? I need you to take a deep breath and calm down. You've got that storm going crazy outside and you're about to bring the house down around us. I know Dean pissed you off—trust me, I know how good he is at that—but you know he doesn't mean anything by it. Just, please, take a breath, calm down and talk to us. Whatever's going on, we can help you."
A shuddering breath ran through Spencer and his gold ringed eyes turned to Sam. "You can't help. It's too late. It's too damn late." In contrast to his pervious shouting, his voice was now low and quiet, throbbing in the air like an open wound. All at once it seemed like he deflated. The storm outside calmed some and Spencer's shoulders slumped under a heavy mantle of grief that was etched across his face. "I should've put more effort into finding Foyet. I've got skills the team doesn't, after all. I should've worked harder. But I didn't. And now Hotch wife is dead because I decided I was talented enough to live two lives at the same time. Just…just leave me alone." Curling in on himself, Spencer turned away from them. "Leave me alone." With those soft words, he left the room, leaving both Winchesters stunned behind him.
Sam made as if to follow him out of the room, wanting to go help his friend, but a hand on his arm stopped him. He turned and was surprised to find that it wasn't Dean who was holding him back. It was Castiel. The angel's blue eyes were brighter than normal and full of sympathy and sadness. "Let him go." Castiel told him that low, serious voice of his. "Gabriel is with him. He will care for his son."
"How long have you guys been here?" Dean asked him.
Letting go of Sam's arm, Castiel took a step back so he could look at them both. "Almost since the start."
"What was he talking about, Cas?" Sam asked hesitantly.
Castiel hesitated briefly before coming to a decision. "Spencer's team at the BAU has been hunting down a serial killer known as the Reaper. He has been targeting their Unit Chief personally. Aaron Hotchner's wife and son were placed into protective custody to keep them safe. Three days ago, George Foyet murdered the United States Marshall guarding the two and later killed Hayley Hotchner in her home while she was on the phone with Aaron and the rest of the team listened in. Her son hid successfully and Aaron arrived in time to save him, subsequently killing George Foyet."
Holy shit. They'd had to listen as this killer murdered the wife of their boss? No wonder Spencer was hurting! The way that he talked about the team gave Sam the impression that they were as close as family. A loss like this had to be devastating.
"Why does he feel so guilty, though?" Dean asked. "I mean, it doesn't sound like it was his fault."
Bright eyes shifting towards the hallway, Castiel sighed, showing more emotion in that moment than usually crossed his face. It was easy for Sam to see in that brief moment just how much of an impact the young nephilim had had on the one he called Uncle. Castiel might not always show it, but a bond had been made there. They were family. And right now, Castiel was grieving for his family. "Spencer believes that he should have spent more time trying to find George Foyet. He also blames himself for having protected the Hotchners so thoroughly that even he was unable to locate them in enough time to save Hayley. He takes much on his shoulders that is not his responsibility."
By the time that morning rolled around, it was a much different Spencer that stood on the back porch, drinking coffee and watching the sunrise. The grief of the past few days had peaked and exploded out of him last night. First on Dean and Sam, something that he knew he was going to have to apologize for at some point, and then later on in private with his father. Letting out the sharper edge of that pain had helped him to find his head once more and clear it of some of the darker thoughts. It hadn't taken it all, though. The grief was still there, as was the guilt, no matter how hard Gabriel had tried to banish it. Spencer knew he had every reason to feel it.
He'd known from the start that it would be tricky for him to live two lives like this. To be both agent and angel. Eventually something would slip and he'd end up paying for it. He just hadn't expected the price to be such a high one.
There was no way he could continue to do this. Not like this. The choice he'd been afraid of was finally being pushed on him and in the end there was really no choice. He could do only one thing. Today, he would go to the Bureau, and he would take the paperwork that had been sitting on his desk for weeks now and bring it to Strauss. For the next six months Dr. Spencer Reid was going on emergency medical leave. Right now was a hard time, he knew, and she wouldn't want to allow him, but he had all the documentation faked to show that he had a very ill family member. They wouldn't be able to tell him no.
That would give Spencer six months to devote everything he had to this. He could give his full, undivided attention to keeping Sam safe and stopping the apocalypse. And, Grandfather willing, if things turned out well, he could go back to his life when those six months were up.
There was a small part of him that whispered that he knew that would never happen. He chose to ignore it.
This wasn't a regular little hunt. This was a war. Sacrifices had to be made. But Spencer wasn't going to allow his team to be the ones to make those sacrifices anymore. He wasn't going to put them at risk because he was too focused on something else. They could fill in his spot while he was gone with someone that would be able to dedicate everything to the job, the way that it should be. Meanwhile, Spencer would dedicate everything he had to this job. No more half-assed work. He would keep his friends and his family in this life safe, and in a way, he was keeping his other friends and family safe, too. He was helping to keep the world safe.
It was time for SSA Dr. Spencer Reid to step aside and for the other part of him to come forward. Agent or angel—the choice had been made, at least for now.
Wings curled loosely around him, Spencer sipped at his coffee and watched the sun rise on a new day.
All right, everyone, that's the end of this one! I'm already started on the next story, which will take us through the end of the Apocalypse. :) I hope to see all of you there. I hope you guys like things so far. Is there anything you want to see happen in the next story—or any story after that? (I have a lot planned, lol) Anything you want to see? Anything you don't want to see? And, an important question: How do you feel about mpreg? It's not a necessity don't worry. Just curious.
Please, everyone, let me know what you think, and thank you so much for reading what I've put up so far!
From the looks of our poll (Though I haven't added everything yet) it's looking like a lot of people really wanted to see Spencer/Lucifer. Now, I don't know how you guys see that, but I doubt it's the way I see it :P I can work with this but I don't think it'll be quite what you picture, because I can't see Spencer falling in love with someone he calls Uncle lol Honestly, if pushed, I'd see it as more of a non-con thing, but meh, that's just one view. Who knows? I might come up with something else.
But, anyways, that means that if that wins, or the others we'll have Dean/Cas and Sam/Gabriel, which are two of my ships anyways lol We'll see. Who knows! Sam/Spencer might still win!
Hope to see you all soon!