Precursor Note: Watch out for a few naughty French/German/Dutch words/phrases… I'll put the translations at the bottom. I think most of it is correct. You should be able to follow along with what's being said even without the translations.

Chapter 19

Everything I Do

Lucifer watched carefully as the expression on the trickster fox's face went from shock to fury in less than a second.

"Long time, no see?" he spat, scrambling to stand up in his anger. "Schrauben Sie, Arschloch! The last time I saw you before the other week was when you let those connards hunt me down so they could skin me!

"And then the next think I know, the world is ending and you're ein Erzengel, which really wasn't as shocking as it should have been. Fast-forward about eight years, the world is ending for the fourth time, you're back from the dead, and the Old Men are systematically having anyone who doesn't make a contract with them hunted down and slaughtered if they haven't already left—"

Gabriel held up his hands in front of him, attempting to placate his fox friend (though Lucifer was questioning the friend part). "Woah, slow down. Old Men? You mean the guys in charge of the British Men of Letters?"

"Who else? What other Old Men do you know, stomme ezel," the fox scoffed with a roll of his eyes.

Lucifer really needed to stop thinking about the trickster before them as a fox. After all, it was a redhead that Gabriel had whisked away to this warehouse ("Come on, Gabriel. Really? A warehouse?"). Gabriel had first realized they were being followed by the very person they were tracking down around six, and then two hours later, Gabriel had gotten bored enough to hurry this confrontation along.

Reynard wasn't exactly what Lucifer was expecting. First of all, the trickster was a lot more temperamental than Gabriel had described him to be. Then again, it sounded like the fox wasn't having the best of times right now. Anyways, Lucifer hadn't picked Reynard out to be a redhead. He probably should have seen it coming since it was Reynard the Fox, but for some reason Lucifer hadn't associated the red-orange hair until Reynard some how managed to look like a pissed off fox (teeth bared, hackles raised, and all) even while appearing like a normal human male.

Well, normal except for the eyes. Why was it always the eyes that gave it away? A thought for another restless night, perhaps. Said eyes were heterochromatic. At a first glance, Lucifer thought they might have both been hazel (a lighter version of Sam's), but upon further inspection, Lucifer noticed that one was green while the other was a light brown. It should also be mentioned that Reynard's pupils were thin vertical slits, just like a fox's.

If Lucifer had always been human, having those eyes stare at him might have been unsettling. But, alas, once upon a time, Lucifer had been a fully fledged archangel with full use of his grace, and even with aforementioned powers currently unavailable to him, a mere demigod wasn't about to cow him with just a glare.

"L'enfer are you looking at, ancien diable," the fox growled at him after finally taking note of his presence, or at the very least acknowledging that Lucifer wasn't just there for show.

Of course, Lucifer took slight offense to this. Maybe it was the lack of sleep or even the bad week— no, bad month he'd been having. Either way, he retorted with something fierce: "Just a kicked puppy that I really couldn't care less about."

Gabriel leveled a glare of his own on Lucifer. "Don't antagonize him, Luci," he reprimanded half-heartedly.

"No, no, let the wingless angel pick his fights," the trickster cut in with a feral grin. "We'll see how high and mighty you feel—"

"Reynard, no," Gabriel cut in just as quickly.

The fox rounded on Gabriel, which must have been the plan – keeping Reynard's ire away from Lucifer. "And why should I listen to you, huh? If anything, you're the one who owes me een gunst."

Gabriel frowned. It was only there for a split second before he drew his face into a blank mask, but even that was enough to spark worry in Lucifer's chest. A favor? What could Gabriel possibly owe this fox?

"I paid you back for that a long time ago," Gabriel bit out. "It would be null and void now either way."

"Well, you're not incorrect there, but perhaps you've forgotten about another little venture that cropped up, say, some seventy-odd years ago," Reynard teased, waving a disdainful finger at them.

The sudden change almost gave Lucifer whiplash. Since when had Reynard gained the upper hand in this conversation? Surely it hadn't been when the trickster brought up the favor… No, it had been a little before that – when Lucifer had insulted the stupid fox. What Gabriel said after had been a warning, not a reprimand. Damn it. How had he missed that?

"All's fair in love and war, Reynard. I don't owe you anything."

Lucifer thought fast. What happened seventy years ago? It would have been in the 1940s… so, World War Two? Gabriel had been involved in that? It hadn't ever been brought up by Gabriel, and Lucifer doubted that Gabriel would have even wanted to go anywhere near a war again – human or otherwise.

"But it wasn't Krieg and it certainly wasn't Liebe that brought you to me back then, was it?" A flash of canine teeth. That fox was enjoying this. "I really don't get why the others couldn't see that you hated yourself so openly even then. I guess they just didn't know where to look."

"Shut your mouth."

Vulpine eyes snapped over to clash with blue. "Say again?"

"I said: Shut. Your. Mouth," Lucifer snarled.

Lucifer could feel Gabriel tense beside him, but Lucifer wasn't about to back down. Not when this lowlife pagan was talking shit about Gabriel and had been for the entirety that they had been in each others' presences. Not when Gabriel didn't deserve this kind of—

"I like him," Reynard said suddenly, throwing Lucifer off. The fox turned to give Gabriel an inquisitive look. "I thought you said all of your brothers were komplette Hähne."

Gabriel had the decency to have a sheepish air about him. "Not all the time…"

Heterochromic, vulpine eyes stared Gabriel down for another minute before the fox gave an exaggerated shrug and made a show of stretching. "What did you want me for exactly?" Those eyes narrowed in warning. "And don't just say that you wanted to catch up."

"Well…" Gabriel trailed off, glancing over at Lucifer.

"Hey now, at least look over at me when you're about to turn my life upside down," Reynard huffed, throwing his arms up in exasperation before crossing them again.

Knowing that Gabriel wasn't all that comfortable with this whole confrontation, Lucifer was about to intervene again when Gabriel managed to do as the fox suggested. "We— I have reason to believe that… something big is about to happen, and you were around when one of the signs occurred."

Reynard sniffed in a slight bout of disdain. "Why would I want to be around some archangel's grâce falling out of the sky?"

That made Lucifer's insides freeze, and it looked like Reynard's response had a similar affect on Gabriel. The trickster fox knew a lot more about what was going on than he had originally let on. Why… Why were they always behind? Why did it feel like they were the last ones to learn about anything?

"Huh, guess I caught you two with your pants down," the fox muttered. Then he spoke up with a clearer voice. "Look, if you really want to know, I hear there's a crawlie out northwest of the Seattle area— you know, in that Mount Storm King. Oh, it's a beauty, but it's been sleeping a good long while…"

Reynard trailed off, getting a gleam in his eyes – a very not-good gleam. "That is, until some poor sods woke it up. Hey, and maybe you'll catch wind of some British Men of Letters while you're up there doing your investigating with the Winchesters."

Gabriel lunged forward suddenly, startling both Reynard and Lucifer. Gabriel grabbed the fox by his wrist and held on with a vice grip. "Oh no you don't," Gabriel tsked. "You're not out of the woods yet."

"Merde— Merde! Gabriel, non!"

~o-O-o~

There was something… different now. Mick couldn't put his finger on it, but he knew it had to do with Ketch's early return and that warded, black box he hadn't seen since. In the week that followed, Mick had yet to have a single full night's rest, and it was starting to show.

Ketch didn't often comment or show acknowledgement of this, but whenever he did, Mick continually brushed him off. However, Mick knew that eventually Ketch would legitimately confront him about it. Mick wasn't looking forward to that eventual (and inevitable) confrontation, but it was at least something to know it was coming, right?

Well, Mick wouldn't have an answer for Ketch either way, so it didn't really matter.

What Mick did have was a case. It didn't even seem like one until several instances were flagged around the area. Mick still wasn't completely sure that it was a legitimate case, but he had to give Ketch something before the other man got stir crazy from not having a case on hand.

Mick looked down at the file he'd made for the case. One of the first instances reported in the area had been from over a thousand years ago, and even then it was an oral telling of a large creature sleeping in a mountain. Over time, minor things – spanning across generations of families – cropped up, always pointing back to this mysterious sleeping creature. Only very recently did it become anything worth investigating.

At first, it appeared to be a simple matter of humans trafficking supernatural artifacts. Then one of the humans had been killed after selling certain things they wouldn't have had unless they'd come across a very specific type of creature: a dragon.

Typically, Mick wouldn't have bothered with disturbing a dragon, especially one that had been sleeping for hundreds of years without any major incidences, but the Code made it to where Mick would have to bring it up with Ketch eventually.

A soft ping made Mick look up from the case file to his computer. A nest of vampires had made itself known in a nearby town about three hours away. Maybe..?

Mick stood and left his office. He needed to give Ketch a case after all.

~o-O-o~

Dean walked in only to stop at seeing one too many persons in the library. "Who the hell is that?"

"I hate you énormément right now," muttered the new guy – a redhead who was being held in place by Gabriel.

Gabriel, who promptly replied, "I love you too."

Lucifer rolled his eyes, and Dean – if he hadn't been otherwise preoccupied with staring at the redhead – was tempted to do the same. "Guys, I'm not kidding. Who the hell is that?" he asked, emphasizing the question.

Dean didn't have to turn around to know that Sam and Cas had come to a stop behind him. But Dean did look back to see Cas's disapproving frown. To his credit, Gabriel didn't even wither under such a expression.

Instead, Gabriel began the introductions with a semi-false cheer. "Gang, meet… well, you'll know him best by Reynard the Fox— he's a trickster. Reynard, this is Sam and Dean Winchester and one of my little brothers, Castiel."

They were all met with a somewhat defeated sigh before a sly grin quickly took its place. "A pleasure, truly," the pagan said with a little bow, his voice lilting with a slight European accent, though Dean was pretty sure that he could pick out a mostly French origin.

Right. So this 'Reynard' had to be one of Gabriel's pagan friends. Dean should've figured that all of the tricksters knew each other since most pagan deities had some inlinking to who the others were. Dean also had to wonder just how many friends (or even better, passing acquaintances) Gabriel had from his days traipsing as Loki or whatever. The number was probably somewhere in the thousands; Dean was being generous and gave Gabriel one friend/acquaintance per year he'd been a trickster.

As for the trickster fox himself, Reynard didn't look like he turned too many heads. A couple people might stare because of his eyes, but other than that Dean figured the trickster could blend into a crowd without any trouble. That being said, the introductions Gabriel gave did not explain why Reynard was in the Bunker.

Gabriel must have been tuned in to picking up on Dean's thoughts because the archangel quickly held up his hands in a mildly placating gesture. "He's not staying long. I'm sending him somewhere safe after you hear a few things from him."

Dean frowned but turned his attention away from Gabriel. If Reynard had something to say, then Dean would hear it from Reynard. "So… what's got Gabriel scrambling for candy?"

Somehow that grin grew, going past human physicality. Dean pointedly ignored the way Reynard's teeth (especially his canines) looked more pointed than a normal human's. "Oh, just the sudden exodus of the supernatural from Western Europe," he answered casually, as if such a thing was part of every day news. "Not to mention the geringfügig problem of the missing archangel grace."

The insert-crickets-chirping silence that followed lasted for about three whole seconds before Dean blinked, which somehow magically shattered the stupor that had come with Reynard's nonchalant bomb drop. "Excuse me?"

"Um, Dean—"

Dean held up a hand, interrupting Sam with the sharp gesture and then pointing at their guest. "No, no. Why does this guy know about something that was supposed to stay in-house?" he directed at Gabriel and Lucifer, who was clearly in on whatever had lead Gabriel to bring Reynard to the Bunker.

"Oh, please, there's always someone who knows more about something than you do," Reynard drawled before either archangel could answer. "Therefore, if you've got the right connections, you know everything."

"Not even God knows everything," Dean heard Lucifer mutter, which meant anyone else also in range heard it too.

Reynard shrugged. "Everything important then," he corrected himself.

"So you have connections that Gabriel doesn't?" Sam asked, returning back to the matter at hand (ever the practical one).

"Well…" Reynard trailed off, tapping a finger against his lips in thought and crossing his other arm across his chest. "Not really, but it'd help if Gabriel wasn't on such bad standing with everyone these days. Of course, I say this as if he was ever in good standing with most."

"Hey!"

Dean ignored Gabriel's protest in favor of getting down to business. "Alright, and what exactly do you know about the grace?"

"Ask these two golflengten," Reynard replied dismissively. "I already pointed them where you need to look."

"Okay, then what about the Europe thing?" Dean asked, trying to get as much out of the fox as he could, which wasn't looking like much. "You couldn't have picked anywhere besides America?"

Reynard gave Dean a look – not scathing or bemused, just a look. "Winchester, when you've been forced to flee from the only home you've known since your Konzeption and the only options that lie before you end in death, wouldn't you pick the one that leads you past friends?"

A different kind of silence fell then. It was suffocating, and Gabriel had looked away, a flash of guilt crossing his face. Dean didn't know what to say. He couldn't say anything.

And then Reynard gave Dean whiplash by suddenly smiling and cheerfully saying, "Of course, I also just wanted to have plaisir and what not. It had become rather boring over in Europe anyway without all of the other fantastical creatures such as myself hanging about anymore. Truly, I was stuck between going to Africa or the United States, and since Anasazi came here before he died, I figured I might as well take a look around to see what the fuss was all about. And I must say, it's quite the playground.

"Plus, ever since those Marvel movies came out, there are so many adoring fans who love the portrayal of Loki, and because someone here never taps into those pagan powers of his anymore, it goes to the rest of us tricksters. And, oh, it feels so… invigorating to have people worship you nowadays— in a sense, anyway."

Gabriel had crossed his arms and rolled his eyes at least twice by the end of Reynard's ramble. Meanwhile, Lucifer had looked faintly amused until that last sentence, but Cas was there to quickly move forward and put a placating hand on his arm.

"Right," Dean muttered, and Sam nudged him with a hard elbow – to which Dean shot him a look of 'what?', which Sam just let out a sigh at.

"Look, um, Reynard?" Sam started awkwardly. "Could you just— We'd appreciate it if you gave us some straight answers. It's help move things along, and you'd be free to do your thing."

Way to negotiate with a trickster, Sammy, Dean thought, barely reining in an eye roll.

Reynard seemed to think about Sam's proposition though, actually bothering to look Sam over for the first time (or what seemed to be the first time). The trickster fox then glanced back at Gabriel, who just raised an eyebrow at him. Sighing, Reynard shrugged and began:

"About a month ago I was near Seattle for… personal reasons. I overheard some juicy rumors about a beastie somewhere around the Storm King's mountain. Supposedly, there were some Idioten who decided to steal from its horde, and it woke up. The rest was rubbish, but when I popped in to see if the rumors were right about the first couple of things, well…"

Reynard paused, a frown forming as he chose his next words carefully. "Gabriel, you really ought to be more aware of all the prophecies and Scheiße going around. Sure, some are nonsense, but you know there are ones that are dead accurate."

"If it's the one about all the archangels coming back together on Earth—" Gabriel started.

But Reynard was already shaking his head and waving a hand in a dismissive gesture. "Non, non. That one's ancient news. I'm talking about the other one."

Dean wanted to slam his head against a table – 'the other one' was so specific. By what Reynard was implying, there had to be hundreds if not thousands of prophecies, which could be about anything from when someone was going to eat lunch to exactly their current predicament.

Somehow Gabriel knew which one Reynard was talking about. It was almost funny, really. One moment Gabriel was as confused as the rest of them, and then the next it was like watching him have epiphany. And Dean used the word 'like' because it was a subtle thing, only a slight tilt of the head and widening of amber eyes. Then Gabriel's brows came together in a hard frown.

"That one was supposed to be about…" he trailed off, not completing the thought for everyone else who needed to know what the hell the two tricksters were talking about.

"Apparently not," Reynard drawled, checking out the state of his right hand's nails.

That was it. "You two wanna share with the rest of the class," Dean bit out.

"Oh, nothing much," Reynard hummed right as Gabriel answered, "Soothsayer prophecies."

"There hasn't been a soothsayer born for hundreds of years," Cas commented in the following silence. At Sam's questioning look, the angel continued, "Soothsayers are like prophets… but not. Unlike a prophet, what a soothsayer sees is easily changeable and was therefore unreliable at best. Still, there were a few who were able to come very close to fate's designs. Those are the prophecies that Gabriel and Reynard are speaking of."

"More specifically the ones from the soothsayer who lived in Pompeii before Vesuvius erupted," Gabriel added with a distant look in his eyes. "She tried to convince her family to leave, but they wouldn't believe her because she was barely fourteen and none of the other so-called soothsayers or oracles foresaw the mountain raining fire down upon them."

"And she had other prophecies?" Sam prompted, gingerly steering away from the girl's obvious death.

Reynard nodded. "At one point, they were called Varinia's Grand Prophecies. You won't find hide nor hair of them nowadays. They're not that special, but they were all the rage back then."

"One of the last that she envisioned was about the Apocalypse," Cas halfheartedly argued, more of a statement than anything. "And another before that covered both world wars. Several others pertained to the reigns of successful monarchs and rulers."

"So…" Dean began, regaining everyone's attention and attempting to get them back on track. "What exactly did she have to say about this that you thought was about something else?"

Gabriel wore an uncomfortable expression. "Well… I thought it was about Cassie here, but if it's not and Michael is missing his grace, then…"

"Then it stands to reason that we really should stop making assumptions about things," Lucifer cut in. "I mean, really, when was the last time a prophecy has come true recently?"

Reynard made a considering face which then morphed into something that vaguely resembled one that Gabriel made when he was impressed. "Fair point. Can I go now?"

For a moment, Dean didn't think Gabriel would relent – mainly because he didn't think they were done. But Gabriel muttered something Dean couldn't make out and snapped his fingers. When nothing immediately happened (that Dean could tell anyway), Gabriel let out an irritated huff. He then grabbed Reynard's wrist and pulled him along as Gabriel left the Bunker through the main entrance.

"What was that about?" Sam asked Cas.

"You can't summon fairy rings indoors!" Reynard called back over his shoulder before turning back to Gabriel. "You know, I don't think it's such a good idea to hand me over to the fae—"

The Bunker door slammed shut behind the two tricksters, cutting off whatever Reynard was about to say.

"That could've gone better," Lucifer said after a moment.

And Dean really couldn't have agreed more.

A/N: So, researching and making Reynard the Fox was fun (and I had no idea he was in a TV show called Magicians until I looked up images of him); however, fleshing him out and giving him quirks (ahem, certain non-English usage) was a bit of a pain, but I think it was worth it. I may or may not revisit him later. Maybe in like a cameo or even have someone mention him. (Idk if you can tell, but Reynard is by far one of my favorite non-human OCs to have played with.)

Translations (in order and mostly according to Google Translate):

Schrauben Sie, Arschloch! [German] — Screw you, asshole!

connards [French] — assholes (or other not so nice things)

ein Ernengel [German] — an archangel

stomme ezel [Dutch] — literally: stupid donkey (but I was going for dumb-ass)

L'enfer [French] — the hell

ancien diable [French] — former devil

een gunst [Dutch] — a favor

Krieg, Liebe [German] — War, Love

komplette Hähne [German] — complete cocks (I wanted utter dicks, but this worked too)

grâce [French] — grace (yes, I know it doesn't actually mean an angel's grace)

Merde— Merde! Gabriel, non! [French] — Shit— Shit! Gabriel, no! (okay, technically merde can mean some other not so clean words, but it gets the point across..?)

énormément [French] — enormously/immensely/very much/so much

geringfügig [German] — slight/minor

golflengten [Dutch] — wavelengths (it's a joke?)

Konzeption [German] — conception (like the birth of an idea; in this case, Reynard)

plaisir [French] — pleasure/entertainment/fun

Idioten [German] — idiots

Scheiße [German] — shit

Non, non. [French] — No, no.