Chapter 5 – Family Feud
Phanuel's Master had been watching from his vantage point, preparing to have his underling intervene, if necessary. But fortunately for all concerned, it seemed as though Castiel's smiting of the Demon had served to distract Gabriel enough to keep the truth from coming out. But he had gotten lucky this time, and he knew it.
"You were supposed to be watching Gabriel," he said to Phanuel, through gritted teeth.
"I was," Phanuel replied nervously. "But you also wanted me to make sure that the fifth designated Angel opened the pit. I can't be in two places at once."
His Master let out a frustrated breath. No. No, he supposed the Archangel couldn't. Disaster had been averted for now, and Paul had performed the task he'd been meant to perform. The fact that the current occupant of the High Office had managed to seal the pit back up was of no consequence. Events were progressing the way they should. Well, for the time being, at any rate.
"What are your instructions, Master?" Phanuel inquired.
He considered. Castiel was walking toward Rowena now, and Gabriel had inserted himself between the two. Gail was motionless, but Crowley lifted his head, as if he could sense something in the air.
It was this action of the King's which prompted his decision: there was no sense in pressing his luck by remaining on the scene any longer. "Watch Gabriel," he told Phanuel sternly. "If he shows any sign of faltering, call me immediately." Then, he vanished.
"What's going on with you?" Gabe said to Cas, putting a hand on his Brother's chest to restrain him.
Rowena frowned. She had been wondering the same thing, herself. The witch hadn't actually intended to find herself in this highly-charged situation. The truth was that she had just happened to be in the neighbourhood, as the cliché went, when she had felt the presence of her son and daughter nearby. What was odd was that as Rowena had neared the spot, she hadn't heard Castiel's voice, but John's. She'd been curious about that, and about Gail's presence there, as well.
But the red-haired witch was regretting that decision now as Castiel stared at her with his unblinking gaze. "Step aside, Gabriel," Gail's husband said, frowning.
"Take it easy, big fella," the Archangel remarked, still impeding his Brother's progress. "Excellent job on John, but why don't you take five? Maybe talk to your wife?"
"I have no interest in talking to him," Gail said coolly.
"Why don't you take Gabriel aside, instead?" Crowley suggested to her, his beard twitching with amusement. "Then, your husband can rid the world of another evil."
"I'd be careful about winding Cas up, if I were you," Gabe said, giving the King of Hell the side-eye. "Once he kills Rowena, you know who he'll be going for next."
"Let him try," Crowley muttered as Rowena glared at her son.
"Why would you align yourself with Vincent?" the witch asked him, shaking her head.
"I didn't 'align' myself with anyone, Mother," Crowley retorted. "Seems it's you who has aligned yourself with Angels, for some strange reason. Well, take a good look at Castiel's face right now, and then tell me you picked the right side to be on."
Rowena glanced nervously at the Angels. Gabriel was still trying to prevent Cas from advancing without having a physical altercation with his Brother, but the situation wasn't going to hold much longer. Normally, Gabe would appeal to Gail to corral her husband, but it didn't seem like his little Kitten was in any mood to be of assistance, here. Gabriel sighed. One problem at a time.
"Maybe you'd better make yourself scarce for a while, Red," Gabriel said to Rowena over his shoulder.
Rowena pursed her lips tightly together. Perhaps Gabriel was right. Whatever had happened to Castiel, it wasn't worth risking her life over. Maybe Gabriel could protect her, but it didn't seem as if Gail cared to weigh in at the moment, and Fergus would be on the sidelines, cheering Castiel on. This had been a total miscalculation on Rowena's part. But at least John's return had been short-lived. Had the Demon survived, she probably would have given him a bit of her time. It was just as well, though. Regardless of what was happening with the Angels right now, or even with the planet as a whole, it wasn't enough to make Rowena want to go down that road again.
"Traversa statem," the witch said, waving her hand. She disappeared in a puff of smoke.
Gabriel nodded approvingly. Rowena hadn't survived this long by being foolish. He was glad she hadn't been stubborn about it, though. Gabe may have once billed himself as The Trickster, but he could only juggle so many balls at once.
As Gabriel was withstanding Castiel's angry stare, Gail was turning to Crowley. "I'll take my powers back, now," she demanded.
The King regarded her expressionlessly. "It's good to see you've been able to sustain your sense of humour throughout these difficult times," he said dryly.
"I wouldn't screw with me right now, if I were you," she said through gritted teeth. "Return my powers."
Crowley continued to stare at her. He knew Gail very well, after all these years. Therefore, he knew that, unlike their mother, Gail would not strategically stand down. Rather, she would keep after it, and after him, until he could just -
Crowley glanced at Gabriel. "Keep him on the leash," the King said, nodding his head toward Cas. "I have to talk to his missus, for a tick."
"Go ahead, but we'll be keeping one eye out," Gabriel replied.
Crowley gestured to Gail, and the two of them moved away from the men.
"What?" she asked the King impatiently.
"Strictly speaking, I can't," he told her. "I don't have your powers. Vincent does."
Silence. "Ummm...why?" was all she could say.
Crowley shrugged. "Don't know, don't care. All I do know is that you'd better start walking, sweetheart. It's a long, long way to the Caribbean from here."
Gail thought seriously about just taking her blade out of her pants pocket and seeing how many shots she could get in on him before he zapped her into oblivion. But, wait a minute:
"How did I get away from that pack of wild animals, then?" she mused aloud.
"What are you on about?" the King asked her, puzzled.
Gail gave him a condensed version of the story, finishing with, "So, thanks to you, I nearly got ripped to shreds, you rotten bastard!"
"Thanks for the compliment, but shouldn't you be shouting at your husband, instead?" Crowley replied calmly. "From what I can see, he's the one who left you on your own to be devoured. Too busy killing your friends, I suppose. Tell me, did he end up killing the young lad and the poofter, as well?"
Crowley had just added that last part to rile her up. He knew bloody well that his brother wouldn't have killed Peter and Barry. Castiel would have had no reason to. The over-the-top religious fervour Vincent's spell had brought out in the Angel would have been confined to the ancient laws of Heaven, Crowley assumed. Therefore, Carolyn and Mike would have been deemed sinners, because they had shared a bed without being married. At least, Crowley could only presume that had been the extent of the couple's egregious transgressions.
"No, but I wish he'd killed YOU," Gail fumed.
Crowley smiled nastily. "I might be nicer to me, if I were you," he said to her.
"Why the hell would I ever want to do that?" she asked him in a scornful tone.
The King looked over to where Castiel and Gabriel were standing. The Angels were multi-tasking at the moment, glaring both at each other, and at Crowley. He tried to maintain a straight face. There were a couple of rather important little details the God Squad weren't privy to.
For one thing, Castiel wasn't the only one who had been affected by that Biblical blood spell. Crowley had been receiving sporadic prophetic visions ever since that night. That was why he had sent out the beacon to summon Rowena. She'd thought that she had stumbled upon them by accident, but the son had actually surpassed the mother, in this instance. Due to the prophetic vision he'd had, Crowley had known that John was back in play, although he had no idea how that had been possible. It was as Gabriel had said: there was much more here than met the eye. There were very few entities who could have pulled off something like John's return, let alone everything else that had happened. Had it been the Father, pulling one of His mysterious little pranks? It could only be God who had been behind what everyone on Earth was calling "The Event", Crowley was sure. Vincent was merely taking credit for it. But Gabriel was also correct on that score: the widespread, Apocalyptic nature of what had occurred on the planet was way above Vincent's pay grade, as the expression went.
That was the bigger picture, but in the short term, Crowley had attempted to use the vision he'd had to his advantage. He had summoned Rowena here, assuming that John would want to kill her, in retaliation for her having killed him. If necessary, the King had been prepared to make a deal with his former underling in order to get the deed done, once and for all.
But it hadn't worked out that way, of course, due to Castiel's premature smiting of the King's former head minion. However, for a moment there, Crowley'd still thought it could work out. Castiel had been looking at Rowena as if she was going to be his next victim, and the King had been all for it. But then, Crowley had realized something extremely intriguing: if he peered closer, he could almost swear that it had been Gail in Castiel's sightline, not Rowena. Hmmm.
But then, Crowley shrugged to himself. So what? If the Angels were going to engage in a little domestic squabble, what was that to him? Well, besides the momentary entertainment value, that was. He wished them luck if Gabriel was going to attempt to serve as marriage counsellor, though. That would be akin to hiring a blind man as a driving instructor, the King thought with dry humour. The only thing Gabriel knew about commitment was how to go to the ends of the Earth to avoid it.
Crowley looked at Gail again, amused by her expression. He wondered: How would she react if he were to tell her, right now, that his so-called purloining of her powers had been nothing but an illusion? That whole thing had been nothing but a razzle-dazzle. Crowley hadn't taken any of Gail's powers; not at all. He'd only made her believe that he had. Vincent had suggested it, and Crowley had gone along with the joke. What Gail was experiencing now was a phenomenon commonly known as "the placebo effect". Hilarious, really.
But what wasn't nearly so hilarious was the fact that Vincent had screwed Crowley over by giving Castiel all that extra power. The deal had been that Crowley was supposed to have been the recipient of the lion's share of those powers, but all he had ended up with were a few fuzzy-focus visions. John's return. A burning church. And his former minion Paul, opening the pit that led to the Lake of Fire for a grinning Abbadon. That last one had thrown the King for a bit of a loop, until he'd seen a moment later that Bobby had closed it back up again. Crowley owed his opposite number a fairly big one for that. Not that he would necessarily be in a big rush to say so.
In fact, he'd best get over there, to make absolutely sure the Lake was still secure. And if it was, he guessed he'd better relocate it, yet again. That would be all he needed: Abbadon, gaining access to all of those souls.
"Well, as usual, it's been a barrel of laughs," Crowley said to Gail sarcastically. "If you want some free advice, I'd get to the Caribbean ASAP, if I were you. Your husband's still looking, shall we say...smite-y. Good luck with that, sweetheart." He snapped his fingers and vanished.
Gail let out a frustrated breath. Great. Terrific. She stalked over to where Cas and Gabe were standing.
"Next time you're feeling 'smite-y', why don't you start with HIM?" she said to her husband, gesturing to the empty space where Crowley had been a moment ago.
"The King of Hell is damned for all of eternity, and he will pay the ultimate price, when it is time," Cas said stiffly. "But for now, as Angels of the Lord, it is our duty to help as many humans as we can to survive this Apocalypse."
"Sounds good to me," Gail remarked, nodding. "We'll pop down to the Caribbean and get my powers back, and then we'll-"
"No," Castiel interrupted her.
Gail glanced at Gabriel, who gave her a half-shrug. "No?!" she echoed. "What do you mean, no?"
Cas could tell how angry she was, but it couldn't be helped. He couldn't allow her to get her powers back, not until he was able to do some studying of the Scriptures, and some contemplating. Maybe he would also pray for guidance. Until he was able to determine what sort of plague his wife was foretold to visit upon the Earth, Castiel couldn't risk it. Nor could he tell her why he couldn't allow her to regain her powers, not just yet.
So the current, avenging-Angel version of Castiel said the only thing he could think of to say: "There will be no more talk about the Caribbean. First Peter: 3 states: 'Wives, be submissive to your husbands'."
Hoo, boy. Gabriel's eyes widened. "Now, now, Cas. You don't mean that," he said quickly. The Archangel looked at Gail, whose mouth had dropped open in amazement. "He doesn't mean it," Gabe repeated.
She shook her head slowly. "That's the trouble, Gabriel. He does. He really, really does. That's the kind of junk I had to listen to for days and days, until we got to that lake. Is it any wonder I finally lost it?" She looked at Cas, her expression furious. "Doesn't your Bible also say something about the husband, loving and caring for his wife? I nearly got ripped to shreds by wild animals in that forest, Cas! John could have killed me! Don't you get it? You know, no matter how many ups and downs you and I have had over the years, I never, ever thought you would abandon me. I'll tell you what: why don't I go to the Caribbean, and you can just go to hell?"
Gabe sputtered out a laugh, which he immediately turned into a cough. Castiel looked at him sharply. The Archangel had no idea what was actually happening between his Brother and Sister. Like Crowley, Gabriel was under the impression that Cas and Gail were simply having a domestic squabble. But the schism between the couple went a lot further than that. Just as Vincent's blood spell had altered Castiel's demeanour and would also alter Crowley's, a little further down the road, the King of Hell's blood spell had also altered Gail's. It had nothing to do with her powers. That had only been a red herring, a notion designed to drive a further wedge between Castiel and Gail. It had worked like a charm, too. A bewildered Castiel had behaved in the manner that he believed was expected of him, according to Heaven's ancient laws and customs. This new ethos included the expectation that, as both an Angel of the Lord herself and as his wife, Gail would defer to him when it came to their mission.
And she might very well have, under different circumstances. When Gail had told Barry to trust that Cas was the best possible individual to guide them through this new reality, she'd been telling the absolute truth. What the hell did she know about survival skills? Even in her brief existences in the past centuries, as a woman, her role had been more domestic than geared towards hunting and gathering. Sexist, probably; but true, nonetheless.
Also, Gail and Cas had nearly always been on the same page when it came to the clarity of their Angelic missions. But there was no way he could ever justify what he had done to Carolyn and Mike. No way. Not ever. Even if Gail kept trying to remind herself that Cas had been infected by that spell, what was so Angelic about killing two of their extended family members, whose only so-called crime was living together without the benefit of a marriage license? She had attempted to talk to Cas about what he had done, on those long, dark nights while Barry and Peter were sleeping. But Cas had stonewalled her, and when she had changed the subject to the current world situation out of frustration, that was when her husband had unleashed a torrent of Bible quotes. The couple hadn't had a genuine conversation since before that night in the barn, and Gail had no idea when they might be able to have one in the future.
This was way too much for her to process all at once. All Gail could focus on was one goal at a time. To her, the clear priority right now was getting her powers back. She would have so many more options once that happened.
So, she tried just once more: "Cas, I'd like you to come with me, to get my powers back. We'll kick some evil voodoo ass, and then we'll help as many humans as we can. What do you say?"
Cas's mouth tightened. Her request was logical and reasonable. Normally, it would make sense for Gail to have her Angelic powers back, and as her husband, he should certainly be accompanying her on the mission. But right now, he needed to buy some time. Until Castiel was able to determine what sort of danger his wife posed to the Earth, she had to remain powerless.
"I say no," her husband replied, his heart sinking a little. Contrary to what Gail might believe at the moment, he did still have one. But his sense of Heavenly duty was the driving force behind Castiel's thoughts and deeds right now. He and Gail would reconcile very soon. They always did.
But in the meantime...Cas looked at Gabriel. The two men communicated briefly over Angel Radio. Then Cas took one more look at Gail, and then, he disappeared.
The King of Hell stood on the plain where the pit that led to the Lake of Fire had been momentarily opened. He was deep in thought.
Crowley was used to being in the driver's seat when it came to his dealings with any entity, but he was growing increasingly disconcerted. The near-miss which had occurred at this site had come out of nowhere. As far as the King had known, Abbadon and Vincent were happily entrenched in their idyllic little corner of the Caribbean, sunbathing, sinning, and scheming. Vincent's games didn't so much concern Crowley as confuse him. There didn't seem to be any sort of rhyme or reason to the things the man did. Why would Vincent perform a spell that had ended up giving Castiel extra powers? And why would Gail's father not have taken her powers, when he'd had the chance? Crowley could easily have siphoned them from her, instead of just telling her that he had. But, Vincent had been insistent: he merely wanted Gail to THINK he was holding her powers for ransom. Maybe her father was trying to lure her into his territory, or maybe it was just another game of his. Who knew?
It was Abbadon's little side project here at the pit site that had Crowley's attention at the moment, though. He usually anticipated these types of gambits multiple moves before they actually happened, but this one hadn't even been on his radar. When the King of Hell had originally told Bobby that he would cooperate by using Demonic means to track Abbadon down, he had been sincere. But the more he had thought about it, the less inclined Crowley had been to actively seek her out. Well, not until he had a plan in place to deal with her properly, anyway. He would be foolish to underestimate the woman, especially after the threat she had posed to him and his Kingdom in the past. His pride and his arrogance wouldn't allow him to leave Abbadon's fate up to the Angels. Crowley ran Hell like a corporation, but this particular transaction felt very, very personal.
At least there was the consolation that the bloody trollop would be unlikely to get anywhere near Paul from now on. The Angels and the Hunters would circle the wagons, and Abbadon would have to figure out another way to get to the Lake of Fire. Now that the King had prior warning, he could put additional safeguards in place.
But the thing that had him the most preoccupied at the moment was what Gabriel had said a short time ago, just before Castiel had reduced John to a pile of ashes. Crowley hadn't cared about that act of his brother's, other than the fact that it had saved the King from having to make an example of his former right-hand minion, himself. Regardless of how John had been able to return from wherever he had been all this time, Crowley knew that the Demon's intentions would have been far from benign. Why on Earth would the King want to harbour a traitorous Judas in his Kingdom? He might have taken John in briefly, just to see if anything of value could have been gleaned from him. But the Demon's demise was neither here nor there; not really.
The only unfortunate aspect of John's smiting as far as Crowley was concerned was the timing. The King was sure that Gabriel had been on the verge of making an extremely salient point about something when the Archangel's soliloquy had been interrupted by John's fiery death. Crowley agreed that Vincent didn't have the knowledge or the type of Biblical clout it would have taken to pull off something like that spell. Not to mention the current state of the Earth. That was the true reason the King had chosen to involve himself in this whole mess to begin with. He had known for a while now that there were some very strange goings-on concerning certain people in their sphere. Vincent. Abbadon. Gabriel.
It was the latter individual who was the most puzzling of all. Crowley'd been tending to the business of Hell without much interaction with the Angels of late, but he'd had the usual spies deployed in strategic locations, watching their activities. That was how he knew most of the things he'd known over the years about their lot, although many of the remarks Crowley made came from his extensive knowledge of both Heaven's hierarchy and the Winchester psychology. To the King of Hell, the Archangel Gabriel had always been fairly predictable. Gabriel had never been shy about wearing the Exalted Angel mantle around his shoulders, and contrary to what statistical newcomers like Sam and Dean might believe, Gabriel had once carried out his celestial duties quite competently. Like many big-name celebrities, the Archangel had been cashing in on his reputation for centuries, while doing increasingly less and less to deserve it.
That was the predictable part, as far as Crowley was concerned. Gabriel was an Archangel, and as such, he'd always had an air of entitlement about him. Which would be completely in keeping with his character, if Gabriel was truly shirking his Heavenly duties. But, although Crowley had accused the Archangel of that very thing just to see if he could provoke a reaction, the King knew it wasn't true. Gabriel had been popping himself around the world performing healings and other minor miracles, and he had appeared a few minutes ago at their impromptu family gathering, presumably to back Castiel and Gail, in case there was a showdown. And the most significant and enigmatic thing of all? Gabriel had been meeting with another Archangel in secret, one whose identity the Demon spy Crowley had assigned to watch Gabriel had found astounding.
Phanuel, the Archangel of Penance and Judgement, and Gabriel, the Archangel of Wine, Women and Song, having secret meetings? Was Hakeem certain it was Phanuel? Of course he was, Hakeem had responded, with just the right mixture of deference and arrogance in his tone. The main reason His Majesty had given Hakeem the plum assignment of spying on his long-hated enemy Gabriel was because Hakeem had been in existence for nearly as long as they all had.
Gabriel and Phanuel. Phanuel and Gabriel. The two were extreme opposites, as far as personalities went. So, why were they having covert meetings? And why had Gabriel been dropping broad hints about another party being behind these recent events?
What in the bloody hell was really going on, here?
It was only Gail and Gabriel left now, and the two of them were staring at each other. Gabriel could tell that she was spoiling for a fight, but he was also reluctant to leave her here, all alone. He sighed. Castiel wasn't an Angel of the Lord; he was a great big chicken. Gabe's Brother was going to owe him a sizeable favour for this one.
"So...what's new?" he ventured, trying to get her to crack a smile.
But Gail wasn't in the mood for jokes. "You tell me," she shot back. "Look, Gabriel, I know there's something going on with you. Cas does, too. Or at least he did, before Vincent turned him into...whatever he is, now. You've been hiding something from us. Where've you been, this whole time? How come you're just showing up now? Who the hell do you think you are?"
Gabriel bristled. "I'm an Archangel, lady, and don't you forget it."
"Oh, yeah? So what?" she retorted. "Big deal. So you can do some fancier tricks than me. Well, whoopee." She pointed a finger at him. "You want to know something? When you came to the bunker after we rescued you from Area 51, I didn't like you very much. To me, you were an arrogant SOB who put Cas down, and strutted around like a peacock. And you're still doing it now! But where's your substance, Gabe? People are out there, dying in the streets. I know they are. We've seen so many dead humans on our way here. Too many to count. I can only imagine what we're NOT seeing. People are struggling just to survive in this so-called New World Order. And here you are, doing...what, exactly? Oh, yeah. Nothing. Oh, and while I'm on the subject, how about back when we were fighting Lucifer's armies? Where were you THEN? You know what? Waltzing in every now and then when the mood strikes you, firing off a few insults disguised as one-liners and then popping out again isn't going to cut it. Either DO something, or get the hell away from me."
Gabe was stung by what Gail was saying, and it was made even worse because he realized that she wasn't entirely wrong. Still, this whole thing was mystifying to him. How had things gotten this bad in such a relatively short period of time? Where was all this bitterness and anger coming from?
"Where did you get those scars?" he asked her softly. "How bad is it?"
That stopped Gail in her tracks. How bad WAS it? Pretty damn bad; that was how bad. He had thrown her off-balance by asking about her scars. Where did he get off, asking her a question like that?
Or maybe the question should be: how had he known? There were a lot of things that Gail had swept under the rug over the years, telling herself that they weren't that important in the larger scheme of things. She was bitter and she was angry because she was broken. But she didn't have time to be broken, because there was yet another crisis on Earth that she had to help solve. Angels never slept, and they never went off duty. She'd made the decision to become an Angel years ago, and if she sometimes felt that regret for having made that decision, there was nothing to be done about that now. Everybody's job sucked on occasion, didn't it?
Gail stared at Gabriel wordlessly for a minute or two. She almost told him how she was feeling. It would have been good to get that weight off her chest. The only problem was, he wasn't Cas. This was a conversation she should be having with her husband. But would he even listen? Or care?
Gabe was scrutinizing the look on her face. He thought he understood the reason for her hesitation, but he only had part of the picture. That didn't stop him from running his mouth, though. After all, it never had before.
"What's going on with Cas, anyway?" Gabriel asked her. The arrogant tone was creeping back into his voice again. It was like it was involuntary. "You asked me what I was doing? Well, what's HE doing?"
The moment was over. If Gail had been tempted to share her feelings with her Angel Brother a minute ago, he had blown it by starting in on Cas. Most married people would recognize the phenomenon: they were allowed to be mad as hell at their spouse, but if someone else dared to criticize their mate, the defensive mode would kick in.
"Don't try to make this about him," Gail said irritably. Then, she sighed. "Yeah, OK; we're going through a little bit of a rough patch right now, but..."
"A rough patch?" Gabe scoffed. "Riiight. And the Wars of the Roses was just a little domestic squabble."
"Be that as it may, I see what you're trying to do, here," she said, walking closer to him. "You're trying to deflect the spotlight away from yourself. I repeat: where have you been, all this time? We could have used your help. I could have used your help. You can be really self-centered sometimes, you know that? Why did you even show up today? Was it just for the entertainment? Well, the floor show's over and I'm fresh out of wine, so you can leave, now."
Gabriel felt a pang of guilt, but she was starting to really piss him off, too. "You know what, Gail?" he said through gritted teeth. "Whatever you might think of me, your Sainted husband has done way worse things in his lengthy and violent career. You wouldn't believe me if I told you-"
"Oh, no?" she exclaimed, interrupting him. "Try me. Killing thousands of Angels? Betraying Sam and Dean, that time he gobbled all those diseased souls from Purgatory? How about killing Carolyn and Mike, because some ancient Biblical spell somehow convinced him it was the right thing to do? Or, what about when he made a deal with a Demon to have us shot, just so he could spark a Holy War? What else have you got, Gabriel? I'll wait."
Gabe's mouth dropped open. She had completely blindsided him. The Archangel knew about a lot of things that had happened a lot of years ago, but he'd had no idea about Castiel's more recent transgressions. Killing extended family members? Making deals with Demons? Holy Wars? What the hell? No wonder Gail was so upset.
But he still didn't know the half of it. Gail's anger went a lot deeper than that, and Cas wasn't the only one she was mad at. If Gabe had only shown up a little sooner, they could all have gone to Frank's house right away. She would never have had to face those wild animals all by herself, or had to take a road trip with the Demon who had terrorized her all that time in Crowley's den. The only benefit that had come out of her meeting with the King was that Gail now knew it was Vincent who had her powers. But neither Cas nor Gabriel had been of any assistance to her, not this whole time. At least Cas had that spell poisoning his mind; what was Gabriel's excuse?
"Yeah, I know pretty much everything there is to know about my husband's sins," Gail said quietly. "And you know what, Gabriel? I'd still choose Cas to be on my side, every time. I'd take him any day over you, because at least he's honest about all the terrible things he's done. Well, I'll be honest, too: I wish we'd never rescued you from Area 51."
The instant she'd said it, Gail was sorry that she had. She didn't even mean it. Sure, she was angry at Gabriel for being so undependable and for not showing up to help when he really should have. But that had been harsh.
She opened her mouth again to stammer out some kind of apology. But before she could speak, Gabriel's eyes flashed bright purple for a moment, just like Cas's flashed blue when he was enraged.
"You didn't," the Archangel said tersely.
Out of all the things he could have said to her, Gail hadn't expected that. "What?" she said, confused by his response.
"You didn't 'rescue' me from Area 51," Gabriel shot back, trying to control his temper. "I was never being held a prisoner there. Come on, Kitten! Use your head! You've seen what I can do. Did you really think that a few lousy sigils and a jail cell were enough to hold me? ME? I was waiting for Castiel to come for me. That was the plan, all along!"
"What the hell are you talking about?!" Gail exclaimed. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Gabriel's mouth closed with a snap. Crap! He'd said too much. A searing pain went through his head, almost as if his skull was being cleaved in two.
Then he vanished, leaving an extremely puzzled Gail alone.
Things would have worked out very differently had Phanuel followed his orders. Instead, he had acted independently, believing he was making the right decision. His orders had been to watch Gabriel and ensure that there were no further incidents. So Phanuel had, until there had only been the three Angels left. Gabriel had not said anything to be concerned about, and Phanuel was beginning to believe that his Master was merely being overly cautious.
But then something happened that had completely baffled Phanuel. He had expected Castiel and his wife to leave the location together, and Gabriel to either stay behind, or go to the usual rendezvous place. However, it was Gabriel who had remained with Gail, after Castiel had advised his Brother over Angel Radio that he was embarking on a religious pilgrimage. Castiel said he had to determine what his true mission was supposed to be. Was his priority to help and protect God's creations, or to destroy them?
That last part had concerned Phanuel greatly. There was an elaborate plan in place, and if Castiel waded too far into the deep end this early in the game, he could spoil everything.
So when Castiel disappeared, Phanuel followed him, instead of staying with Gabriel. Because Castiel currently possessed Archangel-level powers, he'd left an invisible celestial contrail behind, one that Phanuel had been able to pick up on. Because Phanuel had not been present when Gabriel and Gail had had their argument, he was unaware that Gabriel had made another grevious error by blurting out part of the truth about Area 51.
Luckily for the underling, the significance of what Gabriel had said was overshadowed at the moment by Gail's realization that she had far more immediate concerns. She was on her own again, with only her blade for protection. Was she really going to try to walk to the Caribbean from here? Was that even possible?
She sighed heavily, wondering how far it was to the nearest town. Hopefully, it would have a bookstore.