Metatron's apartment was probably a public health hazard. The former Scribe of God was a slob, pizza boxes and chinese takeout cartons littering every surface. Sam wrinkled his nose, and stepped carefully. No doubt there would be roaches, rats or other vermin with such a plentiful feast for scavengers.
Metatron himself was nowhere to be found. There was nothing of value in the apartment, and no forwarding address. Sam went and conferred with the building supervisor hanging uncertainly in the doorway, who confirmed that Metatron was already two weeks late with his rent. Sam assured him the FBI would look into covering that expense in return for his co-operation. Mollified, the man slouched off, leaving them to examine the apartment unsupervised. Despite the condition of the place, they needed to spend time searching it thoroughly. A discharge letter from the hospital where he'd recovered from the injuries Cas had inflicted on him suggested he'd been back to the apartment since leaving the hospital. Dean had opened a couple of other letters - apparently Metatron had not had health insurance and the hospital bills were stomach-wrenchingly large. Sam sighed.
"He's probably skipped town. There's no way he can come up with this kind of money."
"I told you, you shouldn't have let him go, Cas," Dean groused. But at that moment a key turned in the lock and Metatron shuffled into the room on crutches. He shrank back in alarm at the sight of Cas.
"I told you everything you wanted to know. Everything. You've ruined me. Isn't that enough?" he whined. His gaze turned to Sam and Dean, and then widened when he saw Gabriel. "Uh, hey. Gabriel. Uh, how's it going?" Gabriel's face was contemptuous.
"Metatron. I suppose I should thank you for my resurrection." Metatron actually seemed to shrink.
"Uhh, well, you're welcome. Of course, I could hardly leave my brother for dead when I had a way to bring him back. You always were my favorite of the archangels, Gabriel," he fawned. Sam started forward, his fists clenched. Gabriel reached out and held him back.
"Don't let him antagonize you, Sam." He flashed him an affectionate smile before returning his gaze to Metatron, who was glaring at them in disgust.
"Well, well, well," he remarked. "It seems Gadreel was right about you two all along. I had thought you had more class than to go slumming it." Sam thought Gabriel might snap at that, but the archangel was relaxed and unperturbed.
"I am as bored by your opinions as I am uninterested in your continued existence," Gabriel said lazily, a red thread of menace running through his voice. Metatron began to look around for an escape route, his eyes filling with panic.
"W-w-w-what i-is it that y-y-you w-want?" Metatron stammered.
"Well, turns out there's a piece of Lucifer's Grace woven neatly into Sam's soul." Gabriel examined his fingernails. "I'd like to remove it, but I don't want to destroy Sam's soul in the process. You know more about the manipulation of Grace and souls than anyone other than God Himself. I thought perhaps you might be willing to help me." Metatron's foxlike face turned sly.
"W-what are you offering in return?"
"In return, you get to live. Maybe we'll even throw in a little free healing, who knows?" Gabriel said airily. Sam shot him a look, but said nothing.
"Live? Live? That's it? More of this miserable existence? Forget it. Even with the healing, I'm nothing. Broken, Graceless. You can shove it!" Metatron sniveled. Cas stepped forward, his fists clenched. He looked at Gabriel, who nodded, before advancing on the former Scribe. Metatron's eyebrows shot up.
"You still don't have your Grace back!" he exclaimed, then quailed as Cas continued to stalk towards him. "Look, fine, fine. I have an idea. Restore my Grace and I'll tell you whatever you want to know."
"No way!" Dean piped up suddenly. "This little turd…" Cas made a repressive gesture and Dean subsided. Sam's mouth dropped open.
"No Grace, Metatron. You don't want what we're offering, ask for something else." Cas held Metatron's gaze.
"There is one thing…" the scruffy ex-Scribe muttered. "I want my Project 7125 notebook back."
"That's it?" Cas said suspiciously. He pulled it from his pocket and thumbed through it. "Why?"
"It's mine," Metatron replied. "I want to transcribe my experiments into a proper record." Cas exchanged looks with both Winchesters and then looked at Gabriel, who shrugged.
"I got no problem with it. Sammy?" Sam shook his head. They had taken all the useful information they could and besides, Sam had scanned the whole thing into his computer to aid with deciphering the tiny handwriting.
"Very well" Cas agreed and Metatron passed a look over the angel. "I'll tell you what I think. But just you. I'm not doing this in front of an audience."
"Then we'll take our leave." Gabriel said, like a king bestowing his beneficence and swept out of the revolting apartment, Sam in tow. Dean stumped silently after them.
Cas was silent on the drive back to the motel. Sam and Gabriel's entreaties for him to reveal what Metatron had said were met with short rebuff. So by the time they had all gathered in Sam and Gabriel's room, the tension crackled in the air like static electricity. Sam sat on the end of the bed fidgeting and picking at imaginary lint on his jeans, Gabriel stood beside him with his hand on Sam's shoulder. Dean paced up and down in front of Cas, who stood there looking like if he opened his mouth the world would end.
"Spit it out, Cas." Dean growled, speaking for the first time in several hours. Cas' gaze flicked from Dean to Gabriel and back, then he swallowed.
"Metatron suggested that you supplant the piece of Lucifer's Grace with your own by creating a Nexus." Cas said uncertainly. "That way, Sam's soul should remain intact. There's still a risk, but as long as I monitor the whole process, he thinks it could work." All the blood drained from Gabriel's face. Dean's gaze bounced between the two angels. When Gabriel didn't respond, Dean folded his arms over his chest.
"Well?" he urged. "Would that work?" Gabriel swallowed, hard.
"Yes," he confessed in a low voice. "It could work. But...Sam may not consent." Sam's head snapped up.
"Why? Why wouldn't I consent? I mean, yeah, it would be better if I didn't have pieces of angels riding around inside me, but I'd rather it was you than Lucifer." Gabriel looked directly at Sam.
"Because I would own you utterly. No matter what. You'd never be free of me. And I'm no more willing to share than my brother." Gabriel stated, his tone unsentimental and cold. "I'm very old, and very powerful. Your will would be completely subject to mine, it is not much short of slavery." Sam went very still. Dean held his breath, Gabriel was right, that did not sound appealing. Sam apparently had other ideas. He was staring at Gabriel, his mouth open and his pupils blown wide. His breathing came in shallow huffs and tiny tremors shook his frame. Sam's head tilted back, baring his neck and Gabriel had to physically restrain himself from grabbing the young hunter and taking what he was so clearly offering. Dean's eyes were wide, he'd had no idea Sam had such a submissive streak and his brother's reaction to Gabriel's description appalled him. Cas placed a restraining hand on his arm.
"Do not interfere." Dean whirled on his angel, his face savage.
"Gabriel is offering to enslave my brother, and you tell me not to interfere!" Cas nodded, resolute.
"This is the natural culmination of the situation. I was expecting it. The interference of Lucifer has accelerated the timeline somewhat, but that is all." If Dean thought he couldn't be any more horrified, he was wrong.
"No…" he whispered, his voice breaking.
"What do you think is happening right now between Sam and Lucifer, if not the exact same thing? With a far crueler master," Cas hissed. Dean stared at Castiel. The angel had not seemed this...alien...in a really long time.
"I don't want this for Sammy, Cas." Dean said plaintively. "He doesn't know what he's saying, he's just desperate to get free of Lucifer." The angel turned his gaze to the tableau in front of them.
"I don't think Sam agrees, Dean." He tugged at Dean's arm."We should go."
Gabriel stared at the beauty that was laid out before him. Sam Winchester, he thought. You really are the most surprising person. He had expected Sam to recoil when he explained what a Nexus was, what replacing Lucifer's Grace with his own would mean, had exaggerated a little expecting the young man to be horrified. Because in truth, he wanted this so much it hurt, and it was better that Sam walk into it with his eyes open. He stalked forward, oblivious to the frantic conversation between his brother and Dean, or the sound of Castiel pulling Dean out of the room.
"You should think about this," Gabriel said. "This is not a decision to be taken lightly." Sam looked directly into his eyes.
"I want this," Sam replied, his voice ringing with certainty and trust. Gabriel shook his head at him.
"Nuh uh. Not good enough, Sammy. I'm taking no chances that you are sure that this is what you want, that you don't feel forced into it. Think about it. I know you're stressed by Luci's invasion of your dreams. Just relax, take your time and make sure it's what you want. We can keep looking for other ways, keep this as a fallback plan." For a moment, he thought Sam might argue. But then he squared his shoulders, and nodded.
"OK, I'll think about it," he agreed, his voice husky. Gabriel suspected that if Sam was thinking about it, it was not in the way he had intended.
Dean leaned on the balcony focused on breathing slowly and evenly. Something was very wrong here, why couldn't Cas see that? The angel stood beside him, their shoulders brushing, but he was looking off into the distance and his expression was blank.
"Cas…" he started. "This doesn't feel right, man. All my instincts, as a brother and as a hunter, tell me something is very wrong here. I feel like we just stepped on a landmine, but we don't know it yet and as soon as we move, boom." The angel shifted restlessly beside him.
"There's nothing to be concerned about," Cas replied. "Gabriel would never hurt Sam, I swear. And I know you are uncomfortable with Gabriel's description of what it would mean for him to complete the...next step, but I promise he was exaggerating." Dean looked bewildered.
"Exaggerating? Why?" He turned towards Cas, his body tense and poised the way he looked before a fight.
"Because he doesn't want Sam to make this decision just to get away from Lucifer. A Nexus cannot be destroyed, once created." Dean blinked.
"Nexus?" He repeated. "Gabriel used that word too…"
"A bonding combined with an interweaving of two Graces. Or in this case, a Grace and a Soul."
"Cas, this is crazy. A month ago, as far as we were concerned, Gabriel was dead. Sam and Gabriel have gone from zero to sixty in three seconds flat. I'm worried, man. This is all happening too fast." Dean stared into Cas' eyes, begging him to see what he was getting at.
"It will seem that way to you, no doubt," Cas observed. "I told you Gabriel was in love with Sam for years before he died." That was the last straw, Dean thought.
"You have got to be kidding me, Cas. I'm talking about how quickly Sam is falling into this. The moment he wakes up, Gabriel seduces my brother. Suddenly Gabriel is all Sam thinks about, cares about. Now he's talking about taking Sam's free will away and all Sam does is look like he's been offered the most amazing thing in the universe. You know Sam better than anyone other than me. Knowing what you know about him, don't his reactions seem even a little off? This stinks, Cas. You- I can't believe you think this is a good thing. I know Gabriel's your brother, but just think about this for a moment. Doesn't any of this seem just a little fishy to you?" The angel was silent, thoughtful. Without a word he turned back to Sam and Gabriel's room, and knocked on the door.
Gabriel opened the door wide, and ushered Dean and Cas back inside. Sam was lying on the bed, and he got up when Dean stamped back into the room.
"You're always so touchy about other people making decisions for you." Dean said without preamble. "But now you want to surrender yourself...to him? What's really going on here?" Sam's face was set.
"You don't understand."
"You're damn right I don't understand." Dean roared. "This is happening too fast to be natural - it's like you're under a spell!" Sam rocked back on his heels.
"What…" Sam said weakly. "What do you mean?"
"Haven't you listened to a word I've said? Gabriel woke up from his coma less than a week ago. How do you go from a standing start to selling your soul to him in a week?" Sam stared at his brother in consternation.
"All right, that's enough." Gabriel said from the door, his face sour. "Nobody's selling their soul to anyone. I hate to admit it but Dean's right, Sam. We have been moving too fast. It would probably be best to cool it a little." Sam looked like he'd been slapped across the face.
"Gabriel, no!" The archangel's mouth twisted, a number of emotions flickering across his expressive face.
"Even I can see that you are just far too ready to accept the Nexus. I was certain you'd refuse, when I explained to you what it meant. Your brother is right to be suspicious, he's just wrong about who to suspect. You are being driven into my arms, Sam. But not by me."
"Then who?" Dean demanded. Gabriel frowned and Cas looked unsettled.
"I don't know. And I'm getting tired of saying that about this whole mess."
Dean glared down at the cheeseburger in his hand and then dropped it back on the plate and shoved it away. Cas surreptitiously filched a few fries. Across the booth from them, Gabriel leaned against the glass of the diner's window. Sam poked listlessly at his greek salad. The waitress, a plump brunette in her mid-fifties, drifted over uncertainly.
"Everything OK with your food, hon?" She twittered. Dean flicked her a tired glance.
"Yeah, sorry. We've had a hard day." She gave him a sympathetic smile.
"You want me to box that up for ya?" Dean nodded. "Yeah, good idea. Sam?"
"Sure," Sam said dully. They all jerked when the quiet of the mostly empty diner was shattered by AC/DC. Dean muttered and pulled out his phone, then blinked in surprise at the caller ID.
"Martin! Hey, what's up?" He answered. He listened intently for several minutes, offering occasionally hums and grunts to whatever Martin was telling him.
"Uh huh. No, no." Dean was saying, shooting a guilty looking glance at Cas. "OK, OK. Look, we'll check it out but we're not close. It'll be a couple days." He hung up, and his face was troubled.
"Change of plan. We're not heading back to the bunker yet. Martin says there's a whole bunch of demon signs just popping up all over the Chesapeake Bay. Looks like we need to head straight back to Maryland and go check out that sigil you found."
When Sam reached the Impala, he hesitated, his glance flickering to Gabriel. Did the archangel want him to ride in the back again, or should he swap with Cas and give him some space? Gabriel watched him wrestle with indecision and swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat.
"You riding shotgun, Sammy?" he forced himself to say, keeping his tone casual and his face carefully neutral. Sam looked so torn, it made Gabriel want to cry out. Sam opened his mouth to speak and Gabriel braced himself.
"No, I am." Cas said steadily and climbed into the car. Sam shut his mouth with a click, then moved mechanically to climb into the back. Gabriel dragged his feet as he stumbled over to climb in beside him.
"I'm sorry." Sam said quietly.
"No need to apologize, Sammy," Gabriel said easily. "Perfectly understandable…"
"What?" Sam blinked.
"Not wanting to sit next to me, I get it." He shrugged. "It's OK. I understand."
"I- that's not what I…" Sam fumbled, feeling like he was back in high school. "I thought maybe you didn't want to sit next to me. You did say we should have some space." Gabriel's breath caught, and then he tugged Sam over to lie in his lap, carding his fingers through his hair and and crooning softly. Sam went boneless under his ministrations.
"I'm sorry, Sam. We should talk about what we're doing, and how quickly we're doing it. We must. But don't mistake that for me not wanting you anymore."
They had been on the road for hours. Dean had turned off the music so that Sam could get some sleep. He and Gabriel were tangled up in the back seat, Sam's face content as Gabriel huffed against his neck. The scene would actually have been sort of adorable, if Dean Winchester was the sort of man who used words like adorable. Cas was awake of course, right now he was staring out of the window. Dean reached out his hand and tentatively squeezed the angel's hand. Cas turned his head towards him, a slow smile spreading across his face. Dean's heart stuttered in his chest.
"Hey," he whispered. "You OK?"
"Yes, Dean," the angel replied. "Are you?" Dean's other hand tightened on the wheel.
"I'm worried about Sam. I'm also a bit twitchy about what Martin told me on the phone. But yeah, I'm OK." Cas sat up.
"This Martin," he began. "You said his name was Delaval?" Dean nodded.
"Yeah, it's an old English family according to him."
"I remember," Cas said suddenly. Dean shot him a glance.
"You remember what? The family?" The angel nodded.
"Yes. And the curse." Dean started and the car swerved.
"Curse?"
"The Delaval family was cursed, not long ago. Maybe 200 years or so." Cas mused, half to himself. "They were an old hunter family, and very powerful at the time, and through a complex series of marriages the head of the family inherited the seat of the Ford family, who were powerful psychics. According to the stories, he was given a carved ram's head as a gift. Nobody knows who sent it but presumably someone that had a grudge against the family because apparently it was a cursed object. The legend says that the curse meant that no Delaval male would die in his bed, as long as the houses of Ford and Delaval were joined. But that was the least of the curse's effects. Supposedly when Edward Delaval separated the two estates, the curse ended. Certainly he died in his bed as an old man. Most of the other tales have been suppressed, but what I do know is that one part of the legend is wrong. The curse is still in effect."
Dean was silent, tumbling thoughts in his mind. "Martin's cursed?"
"His wife died in childbirth, his only daughter murdered as a young woman. Of course he's cursed."
"He said he had several artifacts from the old country. Could one of them be the ram's head?" Cas frowned.
"Why would he keep something so obviously cursed?" he asked.
"I dunno. Maybe to keep it away from anyone else. Dad has a bunch of cursed objects in storage units all over the country and Sam and I have added to the collection a few times. Other hunters do this too. Or maybe the legend's wrong. Maybe the cursed object was something else. Or it was a witch, not an object at all. Maybe the ram's head was just freaking ugly and so everyone blamed that." The angel nodded.
"Perhaps."
"So, why are you telling me this now?" Cas was solemn.
"He knows what I am," he said. Dean nodded.
"Yeah, had some funky runes on his cane that told him what you were."
"It's a gambanteinn." Cas said.
"A what now?"
"It's an old Norse term. The literal translation is 'magic wand' but that expression has lost it's power in the modern world."
"A magic wand," Dean chuckled. Cas reached out and placed his hand on Dean's shoulder.
"They've very powerful. And they were all supposed to have been destroyed. So how did the Delaval family get one?"