Author's Note: Another update! I know it's still painfully slow, and I really have no excuse, except my brain just being other places, like on horseback riding, Star Trek TOS, and the air being full of smoke. I did get some original 1960s, 70s, & 80s Star Trek Fanzines, which are not only super cool as a Star Trek fan who wasn't even alive when they were published, but a "fascinating" ;) piece of general fandom history. Also, the parallels between the K/S relationship and the Dean/Cas relationship are many. But you didn't come here to read my ramblings about Star Trek, you came here to read the chapter.
-SQ
Disclaimer: Jensen owns Baby! But I don't own Supernatural.
Chapter Twenty-Three: Uneasy Alliances
The Trickster Archangel threw up his hands dramatically. "All my siblings are idiots!"
Castiel frowned at his brother.
"Not you, Cassie, said the blond angel, flapping his hands dismissively. "You're not trying to shoot a Giant Pterosaur out of the sky with a nerf gun."
"No," agreed Castiel, not quite sure what that had to do with anything. "I'm not."
"Have we considered working with the angels to take down Amara?" Sam ventured.
"No," said Dean and Gabriel at the same time.
"Have you forgotten that Cassie and I are numbers Two and Three on Heaven's Most Wanted List, right after Auntie Dearest?" said Gabriel. "I can't exactly just turn up 'knock, knock, knocking on Heaven's door,' unless you want your Heroic Rescue Mission TM to have been a complete wash."
"Alright," Sam conceded, unsure how he felt about being painted as Gabriel's "Heroic Rescuer," and whether or not the Archangel was making fun of him for it, "so we can't look to Heaven for allies." He let the rest of that train of thought hover in the air for a moment.
"No," snapped Gabriel.
"You are not going to The Cage," agreed Dean vehemently.
Sam held up his hands. "Guys, listen. I don't like the idea either, I hate it, and if you have another one, believe me, I'm all ears; but as far as I can tell, we've exhausted all our other options."
"We don't even know how to get to The Cage," said Dean. "It's not like we can just stroll into Hell and ask for directions."
Sam rocked back on his heels in a way that had Gabriel's eyebrows shooting up practically to his hairline, even as the hunter said, "Well, actually…"
*****Icarus*****
Crowley had been surprised, and a bit put out, to receive the call from the younger Winchester before he could make one of his own. The King of Hell had quickly decided, however, that this actually worked to his advantage, as he wasn't calling in the favor the brothers owed him if they were the ones to come to him. It was a bit irritating that it was Sam who he was having to deal with. Ever the more scrupulous and moralistic of the pair (his brief stint without a soul aide), the hunter insisted on bringing Dean and his pet angel into the fold before getting the ball rolling. Though if Crowley was honest with himself, not something he made a particular habit of to be sure, he was hoping that the Scooby Gang had a hitherto unrevealed ace up their sleeve. Because so far he and Rowena had yet to find an even halfway promising way to defeat the Darkness in the Book of the Damned, or anywhere else, for that matter. Not that he was sharing this little detail with Sam, of course.
*****Icarus*****
"Excuse me, pause, rewind. You have the King of Hell on speed dial?"
"It saves time," said Sam wearily. "Believe me."
"You should have talked to me first," said Dean." "You know we can't trust Crowley."
"Really, how long did it take you to figure that one out?" said Gabriel sarcastically.
"Really, Dean?" said Sam, ignoring the angel and giving his brother an arch look. "You're one to talk. And I haven't promised him anything yet. But he has Rowena. And she has the Book of the Damned."
"The Book of the Damned?" said Gabriel incredulously. "Yes, that sounds exactly like something we ought to be messing with."
"It's not," growled Dean, looking pointedly at his brother. The knowledge of what had happened the last time they had messed with that particular book went unspoken between them. "And neither Rowena."
"Under normal circumstances, no," said Sam. "But these are hardly normal circumstances, are they?"
"Around you two, the concept of 'normal' loses all meaning," muttered Gabriel, shaking his head.
Dean thought this was a bit rich coming from a being who was literally simultaneously an Abrahamic Archangel, a Pagan Trickster god, and a five-foot six blond man with an insatiable sweet tooth, but the entity, whatever he was, was currently arguing on his side, so he decided not to mention it.
"That may be true," said Cas, "but time does not. And if we don't leave now, we're going to be late."
*****Icarus*****
"We're not saying it's gonna happen, we just want to know, theoretically, if it's possible."
Whatever Crowley had imagined the Winchesters' latest half-baked, suicidal plan to be, this most definitely had not been it. Did he want Amara put away for good? Of course he did; at least if controlling her was no longer a viable option. He wouldn't have been standing in the middle of this clearing in the middle of the night with Sam and Dean Bloody Winchester and their pet angel if he hadn't. But this was going too far, even for him.
"I came here to discuss sane courses of action. If you're not going to do that, I believe this conversation is over." He lifted his hand to snap himself back to the relative (very relative) comfort, safety, and sanity of Hell.
"Wait."
The King of Hell swore, spinning so fast on his heel that he was in danger of losing his dignified demeanor, and stared at the man he would have sworn hadn't been there a second before.
"You let it get this far—both of you," Gabriel added, when both Dean and Crowley opened their mouths to protest. "Neither of you knew what you were dealing with when you decided to mess about with things better left alone. You still don't know what you're dealing with."
The Trickster stepped into the dim circle of light. "You both had the opportunity to take her out before she got this powerful, and you both failed. I would rather tear off my own wings than pay my big brothers a social call, but if we don't do something about my aunt, we won't have to worry about them anymore, because none of this, nothing at all," he waved his arms expansively to emphasize his point, "will exist anymore to worry about."
Castiel had to admit that his brother's theatrics could, at times, be very effective in illustrating his point. And just impressing people (or demons) in general.
Crowley gaped. "You're supposed to be dead."
The Archangel shrugged. "The same could be said for all of us, yet here we are."
"Touché," muttered Sam, with a small, amused smile.
Something Gabriel had said belatedly caught up with the demon's brain. "Wait a minute," he said, "your aunt?"
"Yeah," said Dean. "Amara? She's God's freakin' sister."
"God's sister?" said Crowley, agape. "He has relatives?"
Gabriel rolled his eyes and opened his arms again, this time indicating himself. Crowley ignored him.
"I had that kind of leverage under my thumb and I let it slip away…"
Gabriel laughed. "Don't kid yourself, bucko. My aunt was as much under your thumb as the ocean is under a rowboat. She may have let you steer her for a while, but in the end, she will always, always come out on top."
"That's not very reassuring, Gabriel," said Sam. "I thought we were still trying to find a way for her to, you know, not…do that."
Crowley glared at both of them. "What are you even doing here, Feathers?" he snapped. His eyes narrowed, raking over the angel in question. "There's something different about you…" he said slowly.
"The differences between me and what you thought you knew about the Archangel Gabriel could fill several books," said the Trickster mockingly, the bravado in his tone not quite masking a note of discomfort.
"Can we get back on track, please?" grunted Dean, not bothering to hide is annoyance. "Can Sam meet with Lucifer or not?"
"In The Cage," interjected Sam.
"No, not in The Cage," Dean snapped back.
Gabriel raised his bushy eyebrows in a manner that Sam was coming to think of as signature for the Trickster angel. "Would you rather let him out of The Cage?"
"Of course not," said Dean quickly, paling slightly. "I just don't think—"
"That much is clear," said Crowley, eyeing them as though still seriously considering making his expedient escape.
"Gabriel's right," said Sam. "I meet with Lucifer in the Cage or not at all. We can't let him out."
"Ahem," said Crowley, clearing his throat delicately. The others turned to look at the demon. "You asked me a question. Would you mind shutting up for five seconds so I can answer it?" When no one interrupted him, he continued. "There may be a way."
*****Icarus*****
"Gabriel?"
"Mm?" The Archangel was sitting cross-legged in midair, sucking absently on a lollipop, the distant, pensive expression on his face almost comically at odds with his blue-raspberry-sugar-stained lips.
"Can I talk to you for a minute?"
"Sixty," intoned Gabriel. "Fifty-nine. Fifty-eight…"
Sam rolled his eyes, but suppressed his annoyance at the obviously intentional provocation.
"About The Cage. Lucifer…"
"Fifty-two. Fifty-one…"
"You don't have to come with us."
The angel stopped counting.
"I know, well no, I don't know what he's done to you. But I know what he did to me. So I can only imagine…"
"No," said Gabriel flatly. "You can't."
Sam nodded. "No, I can't. And we wish we didn't have to ask you to do this. I wish we didn't have to ask you to do this, to work with him. But there's no reason for you to come into Hell with us. Dean and I can handle that at least."
"What exactly do you plan to do?" asked Gabriel quietly.
Talk," he swallowed, "talk to Lucifer. Find out…whatever there is to find out. But you don't need to be there for that. It's probably better if you're not. The fewer people know that you're alive, and where, the better."
Gabriel should have felt relief, but he knew it was just a postponement of the inevitable. This plan would necessitate coming face to face with his brother sooner or later, and he would prefer if that wasn't with Lucifer wearing Sam's face. The hunter was right, though, that it was best not to advertise his continued existence or whereabouts, and Gabriel was fairly confident in Sam's ability to resist Lucifer's wiles, as long as the latter stayed firmly shut away inside his Cage. More to the point, he and Castiel had and errand to run that couldn't involve humans, so he would have to trust Dean to take care of his brother for now.
The Trickster alighted on the floor, conjured a second lollipop, this one cherry red, and held it out to Sam. After a moment, the hunter took it.
"Um, thanks Gabe, he said," bemused.
"Yeah," said Gabriel, offering the other man a small, rather sad smile, "you too, Samsquatch."
Sam watched the angel walk away, then looked down at the sucker in his hand, shrugged, and stuck it in his mouth.
*****Icarus*****
Heaven had, as promised, brought the full weight of its fury down upon Amara. And it hadn't, as predicted, gone well for Heaven, or for the surrounding landscape. Luckily, the blow had fallen several miles from he nearest trace of civilization. Gabriel wouldn't have put money on their being zero human casualties, not to speak of animal lives, but it could have been worse, a lot worse.
"Do you think they actually managed to kill her?"
The two angels were trudging through the desecrated landscape, assessing the damage and looking for any trace of Amara.
"No," said Gabriel flatly. "The most we can hope for is that they weakened her enough that she doesn't immediately eliminate us if we do come across her."
"Thank you for that reassuring prognosis," said Castiel dryly, squinting around him through the unnatural dark.
Gabriel shrugged. "Not like you weren't thinking of that very real possibility yourself, Cassie. Why else volunteer us for this suicide mission? You view yourself as expendable, and I'm supposed to be dead anyway. Sam and Dean are off to find a bigger, badder Archangel as we speak. So if Amara kills us," he shrugged again.
"As I recall," said Castiel testily, "this 'suicide mission,' was your idea."
"Maybe it was," said Gabriel with an affected levity. "Does that make my argument any less valid?" Castiel didn't answer. "That's what I thought."
"Shut up."
"Hey, don't shush the Messenger. Literally, get it? Since I'm—"
"Gabriel, shut up," Castiel hissed, clapping a hand over his older brother's mouth. He pointed with his free hand to a form lying still on the forest floor.
Gabriel shook off his brother's hand and whispered, "Is that her? Amara?"
"I'm not sure," Castiel whispered back.
There was a rustle in the bushes nearby and both angels looked toward it. Another angel stepped out into the clearing, wearing a young, female vessel. They bent to inspect the prone form on the ground. Suddenly, so suddenly that neither onlooker had time to react, Amara—for it was she—shot up and grabbed the unfortunate angel by the throat. The captive opened their mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Instead, a long, thin stream of Grace poured out, flowing into Amara's sucking mouth.
Amara dropped the lifeless body and turned, the unnatural darkness around them flowing toward her like ink as she did so, to be absorbed into her form just as the angel's Grace and life force had been. Her eyes landed on Gabriel and Castiel.
"Castiel," she said, her voice low and lilting. "And Gabriel," she added, her elegant eyebrows lifting slightly.
"Amara," said Gabriel, drawing his Blade.
"Seriously?" said Amara, eyeing him with something akin to pity. "Heaven brought the Thunder and it barely even scratched my paint job. But you two and a shiny knife, yeah, that's gonna work." She looked Gabriel up and down. "You don't even have access to your Grace."
"You think we're afraid to die?" spat Castiel.
"Oh, I know you are," said Amara, her gaze boring into both of them in turn. "You reek of fear and self-loathing." She waved aside their attempted assault with a flick of her wrist. "And you're right. You are pathetic. And expendable. You, Gabriel, may have once been great, but look at what you've been reduced to. As for you…" she looked at Castiel with a puzzled shake of her head. "Why God took a special interest in you, I'll never understand."
"So do it," challenged Castiel.
"Cassie," hissed Gabriel, "Shut up."
The Seraph ignored him. "Kill me."
No," Amara said, with another shake of her head, "you're not even worth the effort. Plus, I have a job for you."
AN: More to come! Hopefully soon. Leave a review if you feel so inclined :)
-SQ