Chapter Ten
"Hello, mortals!" Gabriel announced cheerfully without a care in the world. Dean, Bobby, Jo and Ellen all jumped and let out various swear-words; the men ducked their heads in shock with the ladies' colorful utterances.
They jumped up (except for Bobby) ready for a fight, but were instead greeted with a smirking pagan god and a fully healed Winchester. Sam was dressed in the same clothes as when he had left, but they looked laundered, and he looked normal. No red eyes or stringy hair or dark circles under his eyes. Instead, he was actually looking relieved and healthy.
"Sam!" Dean said, leaping forward and dragging his younger brother into a tight hug. "Are you okay?" He demanded, giving Sam a thorough once over.
"I'm fine, I swear!" was all Sam got out before Gabriel piped up.
"Sam told me what happened. You're looking good for a dead man," Gabriel told the hunter cheerfully.
Dean took a deep breath and turned his back on Sam and Gabriel. He needed a moment to calm himself before doing something stupid. Sam thought he heard something, like a click of the metal zippo lighter, and when Dean glanced back with narrowed eyes, Sam realized the shit had just hit the fan.
"Dean, don't—"
The older hunter whipped around and launched himself at the archangel, a flaming blade in his right hand that he swung with every intention to stab the angel fucker right in the heart. "I'm going to kill you!" Luckily the archangel was fast; he dodged a potentially fatal slash by spinning out of the way, pulling Sam out of harm's way as he moved.
Without a moment lost, Castiel suddenly appeared between Dean and Gabriel before Dean could successfully stab the Archangel with what Sam realized was Ruby's blade dipped in holy oil and set alight. Holy shit Dean's pissed!
"Get out the way Cas!" Dean snarled, ready to go for Gabriel again, but unwilling to take out Castiel. For the moment.
"He's not the enemy, Dean," the angel told him forcefully, a hand on Dean's shoulder, careful lest he break the collarbone with a twitch.
Sam stepped forward slightly, making it obvious he was moving in front of Gabriel.
"Dean, wait!" Sam yelled. "Listen to Cas-!"
"'Not the enemy?'" Dean scoffed. "Whose side are you on?" he demanded of the blue-eyed angel as he shoved his hand from his shoulder. "And where the flying hell have you been?!"
"I was guarding them from the angels," Castiel said with a piercing stare.
"And you couldn't bother to tell me that?!"
"My apologies. I stayed behind to make sure he successfully healed your brother," Castiel said gruffly. "I also expected to return much faster than I did." He shot Gabriel a look at that.
"After he left Sam at Carthage and somehow made him crazy, it was the least he could do," Ellen pointed out. She, Jo, and Bobby were out of the way, each with a determined scowl on their face and each was holding a comically-oversized, bright yellow and orange super-soaker trained on the angels. Gabriel looked at them, then down at Bobby.
"Let me guess—holy oil?" he asked, and whistled when Bobby nodded. "I'm impressed at the amount of planning that went into this little murder plot. But what about your precious books, Singer?"
"Moved the important ones to the Panic Room," Bobby said gruffly. Sure enough, Gabriel looked around to see the study was barer than he remembered last time. The last time he'd been to the hunter's house, he and Sam were blissfully ignorant of their bond, Lucifer was alive, Michael thought him dead, and Castiel was on his last angelic legs. Oh, how quickly things could change.
"Let's not forget the fact that Michael almost killed us and you didn't even bother to show up and help!" Jo added.
Gabriel looked hurt. "Et tu, Jo? I guess miraculous healings don't earn you any sort of brownie points nowadays, huh?"
Jo glanced away at that—the angel could see she was conflicted, but Sam was like a brother to her, and she would stand by him. Loyal family indeed.
"Look, I'll admit that some bad decisions were made on my part," Gabriel admitted. "But, if I was trying to hurt Sam, why would I take him to a hospital?" Gabriel shot back.
"Your homemade set doesn't count!" Dean snapped, stymied because he didn't want to hit Cas with the knife, and was Sam seriously protecting the asshole?!
"Sam, what happened?" Ellen asked sternly, seeing Sam's defensive stance.
Sam glanced at Gabriel, suddenly unsure what to say. It was such a long, convoluted story, and he was slightly embarrassed about how to explain it. Dean already wanted to kill Gabriel (though Castiel was blocking him, forcing him to standing there as the flames finally extinguished themselves); what in the world would Dean do if he found they were in the equivalent of an angelic engagement?
"Look, it was a big misunderstanding, but long story short, Sam was being poisoned by Grace," Gabriel piped up.
"Poisoned by Grace?" Bobby asked, voice gruff in suspicion. "Whose?"
Gabriel didn't even pause. "Lucifer's."
Both Castiel and Sam looked at him, but he looked so calm about the lie they didn't contradict him. Mostly because they didn't know what he was planning.
"Lucifer's dead," Dean said, looking with concern at Sam. "You said you killed him?"
"Oh, Sam did. Took my blade and stabbed him with it," Gabriel said easily. "But he didn't move fast enough, and some of Lucifer's dying Grace attached itself to Sam. The vendetta against me, the illness…the Grace was dying and it was going to take Sam with it. I managed to purge it from Sam's systems."
"That can happen?" Dean asked, looking at Castiel.
Castiel shrugged. "I suppose anything is possible," Castiel said, cleverly not answering and thus not lying. "Since Sam was his vessel, he could house the Grace. We'll never know for sure."
"So…that's it? You're sure?" Dean asked, scowling in suspicion.
"Dean, I'm fine. Back to myself," Sam said sincerely.
Dean cracked a slight grin. "Let me get this straight. You basically caught an angelic flu? Wow, you're a pansy bitch," Dean said.
"Thanks, jerk," Sam said, rolling his eyes, catching onto Gabriel's plan. He didn't particularly agree with lying to Dean, but if it calmed his older brother down faster, he'd give it a shot. It would be easier to blame the Devil and let it all be said and done than try and explain the debacle of Gabriel's assholish nature almost killing Sam. "Still plan on stabbing Gabriel?" he asked nonchalantly, as if he hadn't thought about doing the same thing a few says earlier.
Dean looked down at the knife in his hands and chuckled awkwardly, running the free hand through his hair. "Shit, my bad. But, uh, can you blame me?" he asked with a shaky grin as he slid the knife into his belt. Gabriel let out a sigh of relief with the blade gone.
"Considering how primitive mortal brains are, nope," Gabriel said.
"Where the hell were you, then?" Bobby asked. "Sam was this close to needing a padded cell."
Gabriel's eyes cut to the ground in a moment of remorse. "Losing a brother is difficult at the best of times. Even for angels it's a trying thing. But, hey, that's what alcohol is for," he said quickly. He saw the look pass between everyone, including the look of understanding that flashed through Dean's eyes. He'd lost Sam before—he knew that pain.
Gabriel didn't want to think about that anymore. This was supposed to be a good night. Before anyone could murmur any sort of condolences, he eyed the half empty bottles of whiskey, bourbon, and moonshine the hunters had been drinking to pass the long days worrying over Michael and Sam. "Your alcohol collection leaves much to be desired, Singer."
"I'm sorry I'm all out of Ambrosia, princess," Bobby muttered. He and the women lowered their weapons when it seemed no blood was going to be spilt.
"Wrong set of Gods," Gabriel said with a wink. "The Greeks wouldn't know a good drink if it kicked them in the liver. The Norse, on the other hand... how would you feel about Asgardian Mead? Stuff of legends, literally," Gabriel said, snapping up a heavy wooden keg and plopping it down on Bobby's cleared desk.
He whipped out a beer mug and filled it to the top with honey-gold liquid. Sam, who hadn't said much, realized that the mead was the same color as Gabriel's eyes. And just as intoxicating, Sam thought to himself.
The humans all looked at each other in confusion and caution. "What are you doing?" Dean demanded.
"Congratulations! You morons actually managed to stave off the end of the world by the skin of your teeth," Gabriel said, raising the glass in a toast. "And so, since you're alive and well, I suggest you celebrate accordingly."
Suddenly there were neon paper streamers of orange, pink, and green stretching between the bare bookcases, clashing with the dark interior of the room. A huge bundle of shining, metallic balloons tied themselves to the back of Bobby's wheelchair. Various balloons proclaiming "You saved the world!" and "Congrats, You're not DEAD!" were bumping against the ceiling as they floated around.
"You want to throw a party?" Jo asked incredulously, an unsure smile on her face.
"That's generally what happens when you save the world," Gabriel said a grin. "Although not everyone's lucky enough to have their affair catered by a bonafide pagan."
"What about Michael?" Bobby asked. "This isn't exactly subtle." He gave the balloons tied to his chair a dubious look, as if afraid they would either explode or lift him into the air.
"I don't do subtle, I do fun. Michael is extremely allergic to anything remotely resembling a good time," Gabriel said. When everyone gave him a disbelieving stare, the Archangel huffed and set the mug on the desk in annoyance. He walked over to a doorway, did a little spin until he was facing them again, and placed his hand against the wooden frame. Immediately the house started shaking; while the humans stumbled as the house rocked around them, Castiel seemed completely unaffected.
Gabriel lifted his hand a moment later, and swiped his hands together. "My work is done."
"What the hell is it with you angels trying to dismantle my house?!" Bobby asked. "What the hell did you do?"
Castiel looked around the house, a slight look of surprise on his face. "Interesting," he said.
"Know the sigils Castiel so lovingly hand-carved into your ribs? Well, I did the same thing, just on a larger scale," Gabriel said.
"You carved those sigils into the house?" Dean asked.
"The framework, yep," the Trickster said.
When Ellen and Jo looked terribly confused, Sam piped up. "Before he lost his mojo, after Lucifer rose, Cas carved an Enochian spell onto our ribs to hide us from all the angels."
"Kinky," Jo said, raising an eyebrow at Castiel.
Dean rolled his eyes. "It's not as much of a picnic as it might sound."
"So, my house is now invisible to angels?" Bobby asked. "Well, it'll be nice to be able to sleep in my bed again," he said positively. He missed his bed.
"No angelic party-crashers tonight," Gabriel promised. He snapped his fingers again and loud Latin dancing music came from a stereo that appeared on the kitchen counter.
"What's with the music?" Ellen yelled over the noise.
"Bobby said he liked salsa. So, go ahead and salsa away you adorable mortals. Though I suggest you try not to break anything thing time around, Singer," Gabriel said with a wink.
Bobby's eyes grew wide; he looked down at his legs, and carefully stood up out of the chair. Sam, Dean, Ellen, and Jo all shared surprised looks of delight that became bear hugs all around. Bobby actually spun Ellen around and dipped her backwards in his enthusiasm.
That was the moment that the hunters gave into the party atmosphere. Bobby was healed and the house was not only invisible to angels, it was being watched over by two Archangels—it was probably the safest place on Earth, and the hunters realized it at the same time. With that realization, it was easy to crack a smile and break loose after all the fear and worry they'd been dealing with for days. It helped that Sam seemed to be thoroughly healed up and back to his own self—he never stopped with that ear-splitting smile. Once everyone got some mead in their system, the smiles never stopped and the worry never started.
"Surprised you didn't think of that, Cassie," Gabriel said smugly into his younger brother's ear as they stood off to the side and watched the humans with interest as they toasted and congratulated each other.
Castiel huffed. "I spent most of my time chasing you, remember?"
"Excuses, excuses."
"Besides, I figured you could use something to get into their good graces," Castiel said with a cunning smirk.
Gabriel chuckled. "Sure you're not the Trickster in the family?"
Castiel was about to say something when his brother snapped up a huge sombrero on Heaven's newest Archangel. Castiel pulled it off his head and looked at it curiously. He actually chuckled when Dean grabbed it and flopped it on his own head. "Come on, Cas!" he said as he dragged the angel back towards Jo and started doing the Macarena with Jo in celebratory abandon.
"Dean, what are-?"
"It's called the Macarena, Cas. If I can't get you laid I can at least get you to learn how to do the easiest dance in all of history. If kindergartners can do it, so can you!"
Jo almost broke a rib, she was laughing so hard at Castiel's failed attempt to dance and Dean's failed attempt to teach it. Neither of them had rhythm, and Castiel kept watching Dean's movements with narrowed eyes instead of learning the parts of the dance Dean was trying to teach. Eventually she was roped into helping teach an Angel of the Lord how to do the Macarena. He actually started to get it when she took over the reins.
Sam snuck up to Gabriel and managed, in the middle of a party, to look slightly worried. Sam looked down at the mug of liquid in Gabriel's hand and stared at it intently for a moment before looking at the angel himself.
Gabriel chuckled. "I learned my lesson, Sasquatch. As much of a bummer as it is, it's just apple juice. Want some?"
Sam leaned down, but he stole a kiss instead of a sip. Even though he was nervous and scared about what might happen between him and Gabriel, he was exultant. The Apocalypse was officially over and everyone was alive—there was hardly more he could wish for.
At some point Castiel decided to give the mead a try, once he got a comfortable buzz going he surprised everyone with his dirty Enochian jokes told with a slurring tongue and, (when Gabriel snapped up a karaoke machine and stage in the middle of Bobby's study) his affinity of karaoke. Though he couldn't do more than stoically warble most of the songs, Dean always clapped the loudest whenever Cas finished one.
The party lasted until dawn, Castiel and Gabriel using their celestial abilities to keep the humans' puny livers from exploding at the mead's potency. Gabriel acted as referee as the humans started going pint for pint with Castiel. "I think I'm starting to feel something," the angel slurred after Jo fell out of her chair laughing at nothing after each drank a pint in less than a minute.
Gabriel masqueraded as a Mariachi and did a terrible Elvis impression. That was before he broke out the Chiquita banana lady outfit and decided to sing catchy pop songs. Dean was drunk enough to be caught singing along to the song—
"You're hot, then you're cold! You're yes then you're no! You're in then you're out! You're up then you're—"
"Dean, seriously?" Sam asked, laughing loudly. "Katy Perry?"
"What? It's a catchy song," Dean tried to defend himself, but the goofy grin on his face negated the excuse. It was impossible to tell whether the flush on his cheeks was from embarrassment or a testament to how hammered he was.
"Dean sings well," Castiel slurred, thinking Sam was discrediting Dean's singing ability and feeling the need to defend Dean's honor.
"Yeah, you're just-you bitch a lot," Dean shot back, waving his hands vaguely. "Thanks for the back-up, Cas. You're awesome…." Dean narrowed his eyes at the angel. "You have pretty eyes, didja know that?"
Cas simply smiled. "My pleasure, Dean."
Dean snickered like a fifth-grader at that. "Pleasure," he repeated in a gruff voice and fell over in peals of laughter.
"God, just get a room already," Jo interjected with a tired roll of the eyes.
"I don't need to sleep," Castiel said in confusion.
"Ya'll are idjits, you know that, right?" Bobby said from his desk. How he and Ellen were managing to stay in their chairs while everyone else was sitting on the floor of the study was anyone's guess.
"Yeah, but their our idjits," Ellen said in a teasing tone. She patted his hand affectionately.
Gabriel was on the edge of the desk, kicking his feet and knocking back a shot of Bobby's strongest rotgut. It didn't have nearly the same kick mead did, but he felt a little warmth in his belly that made him grin.
"Also, sorry for trying to napalm ya earlier," Bobby offered to the Trickster as he filled the Trickster's glass again.
Gabriel raised his glass in a little toast. "If I'm going to die, there are few ways I'd want to go. Killed by a toy-turned-flamethrower is a suitably ironic way to go."
"Glad to know your own death would've earned your approval," Ellen said with a smile.
Seeing such straight-laced humans and his wet blanket of a brother rolling on the floor laughing at nothing felt extremely satisfying. Without the weight of the world on his, or anyone else's shoulders, they acted like fools and enjoyed every second of it.
Sam woke up on the floor in the late afternoon, his flannel shirt balled-up pillow under his head. He was expecting his head to be pounding, his throat to be dry. Even with the angelic assist he was expecting one hell of a hangover but he felt fine, better than fine.
Jo was passed out on the couch and Dean was curled up on Sam's other side, snoring softly, his long-sleeved shirt pulled over his body as a blanket. Bobby and Ellen were nowhere to be seen.
He looked up to see Gabriel hovering just over his chest, watching him intently with what Sam suspected was a bit of relief and fondness. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled brightly at his hunter. "Morning kiddo—"
Sam sat up and pulled Gabriel down into a tantalizingly slow kiss, all warmth, appreciation, and want. Gabriel smirked at the impressive tent Sam's morning wood had created.
"Why don't we head back to your place?" Sam whispered into Gabriel's ear.
Gabriel locked his eyes on Sam for a long moment. "Last chance to say no, Sam. I'll even help look for a spell or something to dissolve the bond between us, no strings attached," Gabriel whispered, not wanting to wake the others.
Sam mulled over it for a moment. "Even if that were a possibility…I'd rather be yours," Sam said honestly. "Call me a romantic sap but…."
"Feelings mutual, Sasquatch," Gabriel said with a happy gleam in his eyes.
Gentle rustling in the kitchen made them look to see Castiel standing in the kitchen. The newest Archangel fixed them a tilted head stare before letting loose with a smirk that lit up his face like a Christmas tree.
No wonder Dean stares so much, Sam thought to himself when he saw Castiel's pleased look.
"Did you tell him?" Sam asked Gabriel quietly.
"He had a pretty good idea before I did," Gabriel admitted. "He'll keep the hounds at bay."
Under Castiel's smile, hunter and archangel disappeared, just as Dean and Jo began to stir.