Author's Note:

I hope you all had a fantastic Christmas! Happy New Year as well!

To the best of my knowledge canon has never established the bunker having an intercom system, but I can't think of any reason why it wouldn't so I'm assuming it does. It fits in with the tech the bunker does have, so I think it makes sense.

Also, the second half of this chapter was part of a plan from the beginning based on season 10 rumors, but some of it was molded after the episode actually aired so it fit canon better. It's all part of the puzzle!

Ultimately this chapter is longer, so I hope that makes up for the wait. You guys are fantastic!

Thanks to funkypanda, ncsupnatfan, SPN Mum, and 1983Sarah for their reviews on chapter 27!


Chapter 28 - No Matter What We Breed

Sam managed to keep what he was working on a secret from Dean for most of the day, but he probably couldn't be credited for that given that Dean was out with Crowley for most of that time. When his brother did return, Sam was in the process of retrieving supplies from one of the storage rooms. The relieving thing about the extensive list of supplies Gabriel had given Sam was that the Men Of Letters seemed to have a little bit of everything in storage. It took a little bit of hunting around, but Sam was well on his way to having everything he needed.

"Sam, where are you?" Dean's voice came over the intercom, startling Sam and causing him to almost fumble a jar of a suspiciously thick liquid. He saved it just in time, giving the intercom speaker a glare for good measure.

Walking over and pressing the button, Sam replied, "Third storage unit down the hall."

Dean had appeared in the room before Sam could turn around, causing the younger Winchester to start again, this time leveling his glare at Dean, who grinned unrepentantly.

"How was training?" Sam asked wryly, going back to looking for the ancient dust of something-or-other on the overly crowded yet meticulously organized shelves.

Dean made an ambivalent sound. "Eh, fine. Crowley said he wouldn't have pegged me for a paragon of control, but since I was controlling myself so well he wanted to test how well I could control everything other than my demonic tendencies."

At that Sam turned around and raised an eyebrow. "How so?" He asked warily.

Dean shrugged. "Basically the equivalent of self-control exercises." He replied. "Not fun, but not as hard as I expected. I almost bit his head off at one point, but he was provoking me on purpose so that's his fault."

"He deliberately tried to make you mad?" Sam asked, surprised. "Why?"

Leaning against the wall, Dean rolled his eyes in response. "I think he wants to make sure that he can trust me to not be unpredictable. I figure he's the more worrying variable, but whatever. I didn't try and skewer him or anything, and he seemed happy enough."

Sam wasn't sure what to do with that information, but he decided it probably wasn't something to worry about yet. Now that Abaddon was out of the picture, Crowley seemed content enough to help them rid Dean of the Mark of Cain, as long as it didn't include releasing Lucifer, which was understandable.

Dean interrupted Sam's train of thought by gesturing the the box he was filling with supplies and asking, "So what exactly are you working on?"

"Uh..." Sam hadn't really decided how to explain his plan to Dean. It had almost been easy to talk to Gabriel about contacting Lucifer, but Dean's field of reference for Lucifer was very different, and Sam really couldn't blame him for it. There probably wasn't a good way to explain, so he just needed to bite the bullet and do it. "It's to make a medallion thing," he started, wincing at how uncertain his voice sounded.

The look on Dean's face could only be described as suspicious. "What kind of medallion?" He asked.

Sam sighed, feeling deflated. "Look, don't freak out. Gabriel gave me instructions to make something that will allow me to communicate with Lucifer without opening the cage. We're making it a medallion because it's easier and I can keep it with me."

Dean looked like he didn't know how he was supposed to react to that. "Just talk?" He verified.

"Just talk," Sam confirmed. "I made it clear that opening the cage wasn't an option. Forget Lucifer, the last thing we need is Michael back in Heaven. It's a bad idea all around. This way I can talk to Lucifer and find some answers without risking the fate of humanity." He said the last part sarcastically, but couldn't help wincing.

Dean made a thoughtful sound, like he was considering it. "What makes you think Lucifer will talk to you?" He asked finally, looking skeptical.

This was what Sam didn't want to discuss, didn't know how to discuss. "He will," was all he could think to say. It was possible Dean understood something in his tone, because he didn't press the issue further.

"Do you need any help?" He asked instead, feeling pleased when Sam's answering smile revealed that that had been the right decision.


Gabriel was exhausted, but optimistic. He had spent the last day hunting through the archives of Heaven for a ritual he didn't remember but knew existed so he could track down what remained of Castiel's grace. Once he had it he could act as a sort of incubator to nurture it to the point Castiel could actually use it again, but he had to find it first. Once he had located, prepared, and completed to ritual he had needed, he had been able to narrow down two specific traces of the younger angel's grace. Castiel had needed to stay behind in Heaven, which Gabriel was fine with. He hadn't quite accepted the whole taking-control-of-Heaven position yet, and Castiel had a better handle on things at the moment anyway. Gabriel would be more willing to deal with the paperwork when the important stuff had been handled. Castiel's grace. The demonic Winchester. There didn't seem to be any world ending drama at the moment, so that was something.

The two traces of grace Gabriel had finally discovered were very different in nature. One was weak and relatively inactive. It was probably safe to assume that it was what remained of Castiel's grace from Metatron's spell. The former scribe had to have hidden or secured it somehow. Gabriel didn't think Metatron was particularly intelligent. Really, he wasn't much better than a weasel. That didn't make him an idiot though. Castiel's grace wasn't just floating around out there waiting for it's owner to find it. Metatron had to have deliberately concealed it. Otherwise it would have eventually drifted back to Castiel.

The other trace Gabriel could feel wasn't very strong at all. If anything, it was weaker than the first. However, it pulsed and reacted like it was living, like it had a vessel. Gabriel knew that had to be wrong, but he couldn't help but be curious. Castiel's current vessel was a deceased man, and the body had been reformed by their Father. Gabriel had been skeptical, but he knew his Father's handiwork when he saw it. Gabriel had created his own vessel back when the need for discretion was more important to him, and it had made him less detectable among the pagans. His vessel would last him for millenea to come, but even the vessel he had created had nothing on the craftsmanship of Castiel's. Still, the grace Gabriel could sense wasn't in Castiel's current vessel. Gabriel wasn't aware of Castiel having ever had a different vessel. The angel's first time on Earth actually occupying a vessel had been right after raising Dean from Hell, and he's kept the same body ever since, even through several deaths. To be honest, Gabriel was a little impressed.

All of that reasoning aside, somewhere there was a body walking around with a little bit of Castiel's grace in it, and Gabriel had no idea who. The idea that all he had to do was find a single human seemed a lot easier than tracking down some random secure place where Metatron might have stashed a bit of Castiel's grace. Really, Gabriel reasoned, he should probably find both of them. Still, locating the human would be easier. He considered consulting Castiel to see if the angel knew why a human would have any fraction of his grace, but getting Castiel's input at this point would probably just slow him down.

Moving towards the trace he could sense most clearly, Gabriel went in search of the human. Whoever had Castiel's grace wasn't protected the way the other fragment was, so the signal was a lot easier to trace, despite the grace itself being weaker. Gabriel assumed that the weakness of the grace had more to do with the amount than the actual strength of it. If it was grace left over in a vessel, then there was probably hardly any there at all. Still, hardly any was better than none.

The trace led the archangel to Illinois, which struck Gabriel as significant for a reason he couldn't quite think of. The trace was coming from a dingy alleyway, and Gabriel appeared just in time to see a girl with curly blonde hair streak past him, clearly running for her life. Rather than take off after her, Gabriel stuck his foot out and tripped up the would-be-attacker chasing the girl, looking down on him with distaste as the thug collapsed to the ground. The guy was clearly in his forties and past his prime, with dirt in places Gabriel really didn't want to consider. Sighing at the chore, Gabriel snapped his fingers, sending the man into unconsciousness and causing the knife he had poorly concealed in his sleeve to vanish.

When Gabriel looked up, the blonde girl, or possibly young woman, he wasn't sure how old she was, had returned and was staring at him suspiciously. "You're welcome," he offered casually, not moving towards her. Scaring someone who was just running from an attacker didn't seem like the wisest move.

The gaze the blonde leveled at him was deeply distrustful. "You're one of them," she stated frankly, her lip curling up in some mixture of irritation and anger, though she didn't seem frightened.

Gabriel shrugged. "I'm a lot of things," he replied, giving her a once over. She clearly wasn't a street kid, if the quality and cleanliness of her clothes is anything to go by. Her hair was fairly long and had a a braid running down the side, and she was wearing a decent amount of eye makeup. Gabriel had spent enough time around the pagans and their culture to know that make up wasn't cheap. He decided she was probably a teenager, and either going through a rebellious phase or didn't have a family.

The girl crossed her arms and widened her stance, as if it made her seem more intimidating. "You don't scare me. I knew I couldn't be done with this. It was always going to come back and bite me in the ass."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "What's your name, kid?"

She looked surprised, and hesitated before asking, "What, you're not here for me?"

"Well, I am, sort of, not you personally, but I don't know who you are." Gabriel shrugged again, not particularly concerned. "Call me curious."

If anything, she seemed curious to. It was another moment before she finally replied, "Claire."

"Nice to meet you, Claire," Gabriel replied easily, not batting an eye. He still didn't know why this particular girl had a very faint trace of Castiel's grace coming off her. She was probably lucky it was so faint. Gabriel had enough power to perform the ritual that allowed him to track her down, and he could sense the grace now that she was in front of him, but it was far too faint for anyone else to have sensed it. He doubted even Castiel would have noticed, and it was his grace she had. If it had been stronger that might have made her a target for the supernatural, but she seemed all right so he figured it hadn't caused her problems.

"Novak," she added after a beat, a challenge in her eyes.

Gabriel knew his expression was one of realization, but he didn't bother to hide it. He saw in Claire's face that she realized he knew who she was now. He didn't know the whole story of Castiel's vessel, but he did now the deceased man's name. Jimmy Novak.

"So you are here for me," Claire stated, looking like she was trying to decide whether or not to take off.

"Sort of," Gabriel replied cautiously. He was going for nonthreatening, but he wasn't sure how to explain himself. It did help that this particular teenager probably wouldn't freak out if he mentioned angels.

"You're an angel," Claire spat at him. "All you creatures do is destroy. Who did you steal?" She gestured to his body with disgust.

Gabriel held up his hands in surrender. "Wow there, kiddo, wrong on all counts. First, I'm an archangel. Way cooler. Second, most of don't destroy anything. We get a few psycho renegades here and there, but so do humans, so don't go blaming all crazy on the supernatural. Third, this vessel is one hundred percent mine. I made it myself!" He waggled his eyebrows and grinned, striking a sarcastic pose before relaxing again. "I'm not here to screw with you. I just want to talk. Honestly, I didn't even know you'd know what an angel was before I showed up."

Claire processed through all of that before Gabriel's last statement hit her and she frowned. "Why are you here then? How'd you find me?"

Gabriel glanced around and asked pointedly, "Can we do this somewhere other than a back alley?"

Still wary, Claire jerked her thumb over her shoulder and said, "There's a diner like two blocks that way."

Figuring out the place she meant, Gabriel snapped his fingers, the two of them appearing in a booth without warning.

Claire let out and aborted yell that she quickly covered with a cough, snatching a menu up to hide her face rather than look at the amused expression Gabriel was sporting.

"Sorry, that was mean. I should have warned you." Gabriel didn't deal with teenagers much, but he was pretty sure they were mostly snark and sullenness. That seemed about accurate so far. He would have to tread lightly.

Claire slowly lowered the menu, glaring at him. "So, you apparently can do whatever you want. Typical angel. What do you want from me?"

Gabriel met her gaze, not backing down from the aggression. "Right now, your order. Hungry?"

Seeming skeptical, Claire lowered the menu and said, "Pizza, extra cheese. Coke, light ice. Ice cream sundae for desert." The entire order was spoken as a challenge, and Claire sat back with a smirk.

Gabriel matched her expression and signaled a waitress over, repeating Claire's order exactly and adding on a piece of pie and double helping of ice cream for himself. As the waitress walked away, Gabriel met Claire's confused expression and shrugged. "I eat a lot of sugar."

Sighing, defeated, Claire relaxed against the booth and held up her hands. "All right, so you're not out to get me. Yet. What do you want from me? Supposedly you came after me without knowing who I was, so I take it this has nothing to do with my dad."

Gabriel hesitated. "It's complicated," he allowed.

Claire didn't speak for a moment, then quietly asked, "Is he still alive?"

"No," Gabriel answered immediately, trying to sound as sympathetic as possible. Claire didn't really react, so he assumed she must have already known that her father was gone.

"I know," Claire said, confirming Gabriel's assumption. After a beat she asked, "What about Castiel?"

"He's alive," Gabriel confirmed. "He's slowly dying and being ridiculously stubborn about letting me try to save his life, but he's still alive for now."

Claire's face cycled through a few emotions at that before settling on curious. "What's wrong with him?"

"Remember the meteor shower?" Gabriel asked her, leaning back as the waitress delivered their food. He took a bite of his pie, chewing and swallowing before continuing after Claire nodded. "Basically this other angel, who is a total douchebag and locked up in prison now, took advantage of Castiel's innate ability to trust anyone who promises to help. He stole Castiel's grace, or, angel juice, I guess you could call it, and used it to basically cast all the angels out of Heaven."

Claire's eyebrows shot up and her pizza hung from her hand for a moment before she recovered enough to keep eating. Swallowing a bite, she asked, "So what happened?"

"Cas fell to Earth as a human," Gabriel told her, rolling his eyes. "He wasn't any good at it, and he got himself killed again, but he's got friends who refuse to let him die, so he came back again."

"Friends?" Claire asked warily, looking suspicious again.

"You know Cas, so I'm going to take a wild guess and assume that as some point you also met two ridiculously tall men in plaid?" Gabriel asked, raising an eyebrow and smirking when Claire nodded yes.

"Sam and Dean," She replied. "Yeah, I remember them. They were trying to help, I think." She didn't look convinced, but Gabriel didn't press the point. He didn't know enough about that situation to comment.

"Anyway, Cas decided that in order to mount an offense to get Heaven back, he needed grace. He took another angel's grace after that angel tried to kill him, and now it's killing him because it isn't his and it isn't going to last. He's getting worse by the day." Gabriel scowled, thinking about how little Castiel seemed to be thinking of his health.

Claire finished off her pizza and licked her fingers, giving Gabriel an appraising look. "You get that I hate Castiel, right?" She asked matter-of-factly. "He's the reason my father left me, my mother got so drunk she drove her car off a bridge, and I ended up living with my aunt and uncle who don't even notice whether I actually come home or not. Everything fell apart because of him."

Gabriel wasn't really surprised that that was the story. He'd never paid much attention to vessels, but the niggling thought of what happened to those left behind was always there. "You have ever right to, kid," was all he could really say in response. Obviously Castiel hadn't intended to destroy the Novak family, but clearly he had. Gabriel hoped that Castiel never knew exactly the extent of the damage, because knowing the angel's nature he would likely drown in his own guilt.

Claire hesitated for a moment, taking a drink of her coke before continuing her thought. "I know you have to consent to be a vessel," she stated. At Gabriel's raised eyebrow, she added, "I'd like to blame this all on the interfering angel...but I know my dad had to agree. Knowing him, he probably thought it was the right thing to do, and I doubt Castiel went after my dad intending to be a home wrecker. You guys don't strike me as the type to plan that type of thing."

Gabriel's lips twitched and he nodded, agreeing with her thought process. "Sounds like something you've thought a lot about."

"It's been years," Claire pointed out. "Plus, I had the pleasure of having Castiel's company in my head for a very brief amount of time." Her tone was sarcastic, but she sighed and shrugged before continuing, "I know he's not evil, much as I might imagine he is."

"Castiel used you as a vessel?" Gabriel asked, surprised.

Claire nodded, looking reluctant. "To save my life," she admitted. "Then Dad got hurt and convinced him to leave me and take him again. I think he thought he was going to die anyway, and at least that way Mom and I would be safe. Seems like his kind of logic."

Gabriel was listening with half an ear, the trace of grace making perfect sense now. No wonder she had some of Castiel's grace. It was pretty much impossible to leave a vessel without at least a tiny piece of grace staying behind. The trick was getting it out again. Extraction, as he knew Sam had experienced, is excruciatingly painful. He wouldn't do that to a teenager. Theoretically he might be able to convince Castiel's grace out himself, but that would require Claire's complete consent, and he wasn't sure she would give it.

"You need me for something, don't you?" Claire asked warily, digging into her ice cream sundae for a distraction.

Gabriel had long since forgotten his pie, but he leaned forward seriously, intent on the girl in front of him. "Claire, I found you because you have a tiny trace of Castiel's grace left behind from when you were his vessel. To try and restore his grace, I need to be able to work with a piece of it, but I can't get it without your complete cooperation." He found himself holding his breath, despite not actually needing to breathe, waiting for a response.

Claire considered him for a moment, then swallowed down her ice cream to ask, "Will it hurt?"

"No," Gabriel said firmly. "Not the way I plan to do it. I just need your consent."

Taking a moment to think, Claire finally set down her spoon and folded her arms before nodding. "Fine. I'll do it, and then Castiel and I are square. He saved my life, I saved his. I don't owe him anything anymore."

Gabriel had to hand it to the girl for the clear strength she had. "Thank you," he told her seriously.

Quirking her lips slightly, Claire nodded her head in acknowledgement. "So, how does this work?"