OF MUSIC & MEMORIES
Chapter Four
"What is that?"
There was a heaviness in the air, like humidity and the weight of a pending storm. The charge ran up the length of Matt's arms, raising the hairs along his flesh and making him shiver. Sweat dampened his hair and ran down his face as he tried to breathe through the thickness of the air.
"It's the curse," Samandriel said, looking at the waves of twisted magic, red and pulsing with sickness, that rose from the ground like heat. "It's getting stronger."
"Who's that?" Samandriel turned his attention to the man that Matt was looking at just as Matt whispered, "Is… is he a ghost?"
"Yes." Samandriel could see with his grace that the man had died decades prior, but he could also see the lines of red sickness wrapped around his arms and legs like ropes. "He is the spirit of the chieftain who cursed this land long ago. He has remained trapped here by his own magic and now it has grown beyond his control." Where once the chieftain had been strong, now his back was bowed, his face lined with regret and pain. The bindings of the curse had dug into his soul and it was feeding upon him as much as it was the land.
"Why doesn't he just leave?"
"He can't." Samandriel wondered what Matt could see of the curse, or if he could only feel it hanging in the air like a pending storm. "The curse has bound him to this land. He cannot leave so long as it exists."
Long white hair fell around the man's shoulders, framing the look of weary sorrow on his face. He turned to regard them, his eyes sunken deep and dulled with defeat.
"There is another who came before you. He has gone on to fight the curse," the chieftain said in a hoarse voice, as though it had been too long since he had spoken. "When he dies, it will grow stronger from defeating him."
"That's why we're here," Matt said, meeting the old man's eyes. "To make sure he wins."
The man looked at him with a gaze as tired as it was old. "The foolishness of youth was once endearing to me. Now I find it heartbreaking."
Neither Matt nor Samandriel knew what to say to that, so they simply turned and kept walking. The presence of the curse grew heavier in the air each step they took, until it seemed as though they were walking uphill through a bog, and dragging weights behind them.
And then they saw him. Sam. The boy that had come to see Matt in the hospital, who had looked so strange to Matt in a way he couldn't quite describe, other than to say he had wings that weren't wings, yet. And Samandriel had wondered who this boy was with his strange not-wings, who was fighting the curse on this land. He had expected, perhaps, another brother who had followed Samandriel to bring him back onto his mission, or perhaps a human that had been a vessel to an angel at one point and some memory of their wings remained, but he had not expected this.
Samandriel had found Lucifer's vessel.
Well, more accurately, the vessel had found Matt, and saved his life, if the hysteria of Matt's parents and the looming doctors were to be believed. That had been unpleasant to wake up to - both the parents' and Matt's emotion raging like a storm around Samandriel's aching grace, and the doctor coming in and poking at Matt every hour or so.
Matt had been hurt by his father's yelling - and while he did appear angry, Samandriel could feel the fear rolling off him like a wafting cold air. But Matt, struggling to hide his tears from his mother, hadn't been open to the explanation. He would bring it up later, when the situation wasn't so dire and their need for focus elsewhere.
Sam was fighting the curse.
The vessel of the MorningStar was fighting the curse.
And Samandriel could think of no reason to fight the curse other than to protect humans.
He'd saved Matt and he was protecting humans.
The vessel of Lucifer? Truly?
"He has wings, see?"
One of the things they had learned that morning was that Samandriel could hear Matt if he just thought what he wanted to say. Matt hadn't been able to talk to Samandriel in front of his mom, who had spent most of the morning in the hospital room after Sam had left. Samandriel had spoken to Matt as he usually did, in his mind where no one else could hear, but apparently Samandriel could hear Matt the same way. He'd never had that happen before, but then, Matt was the first human Samandriel had ever taken as a vessel, so maybe that was the difference.
Somehow… Samandriel didn't think so.
"I do see." And he did, which was… concerning.
Angels could see things, of course. Or rather, they had a higher perception than humans, and thus the ability to see things in the world that humans were blind to. There were some humans, however, that had the unique ability to see parts of the world that many others could not.
Matt, for instance, was a seer of some sort. That was why he had been able to see Samandriel in the church, before he had taken a vessel. And it was why he was able to see wings on Sam. Not wings that were but wings that would be . Wings that Samandriel would not have been able to see, except that somehow, somehow , he was seeing with Matt's Sight. Not just with his eyes, with his body. Samandriel was seeing the world with Matt's soul.
Was it because Sam Winchester was Lucifer's vessel? Was that why he bore the space for wings upon his back?
And yet… the void, if Samandriel was to imagine wings filling that void, it would be a single set of wings. Not the three pairs of wings that belonged to an archangel, just one.
Why was that?
Then again, if Matt was only seeing the future, then his Sight might just be seeing wings and not anything so specific as the number or shape of them.
But…
But why could Samandriel see them? Why could Samandriel see the world through Matt's soul? He hadn't been able to before, so what had changed? Why was he different?
"What is THAT!?" Matt's voice echoed, as it was cried out in his mind and aloud. The boy stumbled backward, away from the creature that rose up from the earth, and it took a moment before Samandriel was able to parse it - to separate what his grace was seeing from what Matt's sight and Sight was seeing.
It had once been a spider. Samandriel could see that. Once, long ago, it had been a small orb weaver, nothing remotely interesting about it. And then the curse had suffused through the land, and the orb weaver had been at its center, absorbing the cruel magic as the land did, but lacking the vastness that allowed it to dissipate. Within the earth, the curse spread out, growing only slowly over time, but within the spider, the curse had nowhere to go, and could only grow.
And such a small thing the little orb weaver was. It had so much space to grow into.
And grow it had. The horror within Matt's mind was understandable, faced against a creature that should have been less than an inch tall but was now nearly fifteen feet high, it's legs each thicker than the trunk of a sapling. The eyes of the creature were bulbous black pustules that reflected the light, and every hair on its massive thorax looked like a needle sticking up from its skin. It pulsed with the sick stench of magic that has gone wrong. Its entire form was a cesspool of madness and rot, oozing darkness, and Samandriel felt revolted by the very presence of the thing. Its very sight was abominable.
And yet… beneath it. Buried so deeply under a magic borne of the need for revenge and the desire to hurt, Samandriel could sense the tiniest presence. A little orb weaver spider, small, fearful of this large thing that it had become, wanting only to bury itself somewhere warm and dark safe.
The mass of the creature, its form fed on the power of the curse's magic, rose up from beneath the earth, towering over Sam Winchester, more than twice his height. Samandriel felt the shuddering rush of Matt's concern and fear, too large to allow the boy to speak, as they watched the massive creature lunge forward, fangs primed.
But Sam, thank Father, was fast and ready, moving out of the way before he could be struck, but not away . Too much a fool to move away, the vessel of the Apocalypse cried out as his fingers were pierced by the needling hairs on the spider's body, but didn't stop his movements as he climbed up the spider's body to crouch on its back.
"What is he doing?" Matt cried, even as Sam pulled a blade from his belt and sank it deep into the creature's back.
Samandriel felt the rise of bile in the back of Matt's throat and forced it down with his grace, even as he understood the cause. Neither of them had known that spiders could scream. Samandriel never would have expected one to sound so human.
The massive creature bucked beneath Sam's clinging form, eight legs in constant motion as it tried to throw Sam from its back. To his credit, Sam clung on for longer than Samandriel suspected most could manage, and when he hit the ground, he rolled to absorb the impact, rushing to his feet as fast as possible to stay out from under the stomping legs of the angry creature.
But now Sam was weaponless, the blade he had been using buried to the hilt in the back of the creature, tendrils of curse leaking out around it like steam from beneath the lid of a cooking pot.
The thought of summoning his own blade entered Samandriel's mind - either wielding it himself or giving it to Sam, though the second seemed too dangerous for him and Matt if it turned out that Sam Winchester was more like Lucifer than he appeared.
Grace churning agitatedly, Samandriel held back, not aware he was restricting Matt's movements until the boy asked "Why don't you want to help him?"
It wasn't that Samandriel didn't want to help him. He was afraid. Afraid of what the vessel of the Morningstar would do if confronted with another angel.
And also, perhaps, afraid of what it meant that Samandriel had found Lucifer's vessel. His mission was complete, so should he not return to Heaven and report? Should he not reveal the identity and location of the vessel to his superiors? Leave Matt and Earth behind for his duties.
It seemed wrong. It was his duty, his assigned purpose, but it seemed wrong.
He didn't want to leave.
But that meant defying his orders.
What… did that mean? If he was not a good soldier, following orders, then what was he? Was he even still an angel?
Sam cried out and Samandriel looked back at the vessel to see blood leaking from his leg where the sharp hairs on the spider's leg had cut through denim and flesh. Sam was limping backward, his lips moving, voice too low for Samandriel to hear, though he recognized the sensation of magic culminating. Like storm clouds drawing together to form a funnel, the incantation called the magic of the world to the fore in defense.
Funny. No one had said the Morningstar's vessel was a witch.
"Samandriel, please," Matt whispered, and though he did not think it directly at Samandriel, the angel heard it anyway. I don't want to have to watch him die.
The thought shook Samandriel from his inattention and he realized he had unconsciously locked Matt into place, kept the boy from moving. He released a hold he hadn't realized he was able to put on Matt and felt the boy stumble in surprise.
And then they were moving, staying out of main sight of both the spider and Sam, racing around the back of the creature.
"What can we do? What can we do?" Matt was thinking in his head, trying to find a way to help Sam. "I need a giant can of Raid."
Samandriel flexed his grace, feeling it flow through Matt's fingers like warm air, twisting around his knuckles before forming into a ball at his palm. It pulsed there a moment, a wind scented with autumn leaves, and then burst like a star, shooting outward even as it solidified.
"Do you know how to use a sword?" Samandriel asked, and felt Matt's responding disbelief and uncertainty.
"Uhh… stick 'em with the pointy end?" But Matt's fingers had closed reflexively around the hilt and he held the blade with an awareness of balance that would have been unknown to an amateur.
And Samandriel could feel Matt's mind, like a tiny animal, nosing at the knowledge in his own mind. Seeking out the how's he would need for this process. And there was no way an explanation in words could teach Matt what he needed to know to wield a blade, but if he somehow naturally knew how to attain the information, Samandriel wasn't going to stop him.
Except when they moved, it wasn't just Matt leading. Fingers gripping the blade, Matt stepped forward and Samandriel followed, completed a half-certain movement and brought their arm arcing upward, the point of the blade pressing against needled flesh and then through. And that shriek - that terrible inhuman shriek.
Sam's voice rose over the sound of the screeching, magic swirling about the clearing, and Samandriel and Matt moved together, their arm moving their blade and cutting into their enemy. Like smoke, the curse darkened the air, flowing from the inflicted wounds and dissipating as it faced the vastness of the world and the power of Sam's magic.
Lost in the sensation of being both Samandriel and Matt, of being some mix of two separate beings - SaMatt, perhaps, or Matriel - it came as no surprise but was, instead, to be expected, when they lifted their arm and it was the part of their mind that was Matt that summoned their grace forth. Not as a blade, this time, but pure energy, formless and fierce. The writhing mass of the spider's monstrous form came close enough to touch and it was nothing at all to reach out and let that energy release - let the grace within him meet the energy of the curse and not destroy it, no, for not even angels could destroy energy, but break its bonds, tear apart its form, and make it into something new.
Blue and white light flashed like electricity and the curse's smoky essence bubbling from the shattered form it had taken, dissipating even as it attempted to cloud the sky. SaMatt felt it turn, the sickness receding from it as it was drawn back into the earth, not a curse anymore, just magic. Energy. Gaia. Whatever word from whatever time would best fit the here and now. It settled deep in the earth, humming with cool power, and already SaMatt could feel it building, feeding the land, and he knew that the following summer would see the barrenness of this land destroyed, buried beneath the beauty of what the earth could create when given a chance.
He, they, could sense the death of the curse. They could feel the chieftain's relief as the bindings keeping him here released and his soul finally moved beyond this realm. Matt exhaled a sigh and Samandriel released his hold on his angel blade, letting it fade back into grace and cool back within him.
With a soft exhalation, SaMatt became Samandriel and Matt again, the angel's grace loosening from the tight grasp it had on Matt's form, and Matt's mind eased out of that place where all the knowledge of an ancient being lay. They became angel and human again, though while neither took note then, nor would for some time, something else still lingered. Something… very human, very angel, and very much both at precisely the same time.
"Oh," Matt said, bending down and scooping up a tiny form into his hands.
Samandriel felt sorrow run through him like water leaking down the walls of a cavern, too much like a summer rain to be ignored, and his wings ached briefly before curling forward, suffusing tiny limbs with just a touch of grace. Just enough to spur on the residual magic from the displaced curse. Tiny legs twitched and uncurled, and Matt's awe and pleasure was a gift Samandriel took a moment to simply bask in. What a beautiful thing was human wonder. Happiness. Joy.
"Hello, little orb weaver," Matt whispered, crouching down and lowering his hands to the ground. "Time for you to go home." The spider moved tentatively off Matt's palm, and one free, took off as fast as its tiny legs could carry it. Somewhere dark, Samandriel knew. Somewhere safe. He wished the little spider well.
Matt turned then and Samandriel's eyes followed, looking at the vessel of the Morningstar, whose would-be wings seemed darker and more ready to be filled than they had before. Almost hungry for their future and the idea frightened Samandriel. He did not want this world to end.
"Hi, Sam."
Sam's expression was cool and there was a hardness in his eyes that left him looking like someone else, someone cruel. It frightened them and Matt ducked his head, taking a step back.
"Hello, Samandriel. I see you've taken a vessel."
Samandriel's wings stuttered in surprise, then curled around Matt's body protectively. So. The vessel of Lucifer was more than he appeared. Not a witch but something else. Something that knew how to name him.
"He didn't take me. I said he could come in. We're time sharing."
Rather than grin or laugh like Matt had intended, Sam's expression went impossibly colder. His hand flexed, as though itching for a weapon, but he didn't have one and didn't rise to his feet. Samandriel could see the blood soaking his pant leg, dripping into the ground.
"Let him go, Samandriel. He doesn't need to be a pawn in Heaven's games."
Matt wasn't a pawn! Samandriel would never think he was just a pawn. Matt was his best friend!
Matt was also saying something, but Samandriel wasn't listening. He curled his wings inward, condensing himself down, and had just enough presence of mind to recognize Matt's panicked shout before he pulled himself out of Matt, leaving the vessel and taking to the skies.
Matt caught himself before he crashed face-first into the earth, his fingers digging into dirt even as his vision blurred with tears. Breath hitched hard in his lungs and he swallowed a scream that wanted to escape, feeling like he'd been kicked to the side of the road and ripped in two at the same time.
Hands on his shoulders and a voice talking at him, fast, worried, but Matt only staggered back, tears running down his cheeks.
Artemis had said that they were going to be together forever! What… why had Samandriel left? Matt didn't want him to leave!
Fingers curled into the flesh of his shoulders and a brief shake had him opening his eyes and meeting Sam's. He looked worried, his own eyes wide and face pale.
"I didn't want him to go," Matt whispered.
Sam's eyebrows drew down in a frown, but it was confusion this time, not the coldness of before. "I don't understand. He was talking like he was you."
Matt shook his head. "I was talking. Why would he talk like me? He's himself." He wiped the tears away, forcing himself to focus. Part of him wanted to be angry at Sam for driving Samandriel away, but the worry clear on the man's face was hard to be angry with.
"I've seen angels take people as vessels before," Sam said, and there was something sad in his voice. "They take control. The… human is pushed back. Buried." A shudder made its way through Sam's body.
"Samandriel… has never taken control." He had prevented Matt from moving during the battle, but the sensation of fear, like smoke, had been around him then. Matt wasn't even sure Samandriel realized how terrified he had been. "He's here, but I let him in. He's… he's my best friend."
"I'm sorry," Sam said, hand rubbing up and down Matt's arm. "I thought he was hurting you. I didn't even know angels could leave you in control." He frowned then. "Why was he down here anyway?"
"I was looking for you."
"Samandriel!" Matt cried, delighted. He dropped down into a crouch and stared at the new vessel the angel had taken. "I thought you left for good."
"No. I just wanted Sam to see that I wasn't controlling you." He hopped forward and that was when Matt noticed that the tiny body of the rabbit was shaking.
"Are you okay?"
"I don't feel right."
"Me neither," Matt whispered. He scooped the rabbit up in his arms and stood, both of them sighing in relief at the physical contact. "I guess Artemis wasn't lying."
"I don't think I'm supposed to leave you," Samandriel said. He turned his head to regard Sam. "Are you still worried I'm controlling him?"
"No," Sam said, "but I am confused. Why didn't you take control of him from the start?"
"How was I supposed to learn anything doing that?"
Sam apparently didn't have anything to say to that. He simply looked bemused.
"What happens now?" Matt asked, looking between the two of them.
Sam frowned. "You said you were looking for me?"
"Heaven is in an uproar. You did some praying that has a lot of people questioning what's going on. No one can sense where you are and angels have been dispatched to find you. I was one of them, but I don't want to go back. I want to stay with Matt."
"I want you to stay," Matt whispered, rubbing his fingers over Samandriel's soft fur.
Sam was smiling softly, like he knew something they didn't. Matt wondered what it was.
"They're going to keep looking for you. They want to make sure the apocalypse happens." He sighed. "And you're the vessel of Lucifer."
"I know," Sam said, and he didn't sound nearly as surprised as Matt thought he should.
"I don't want the world to end," Samandriel said softly. "I like this world. I like humans."
"I'm trying to make sure it doesn't happen," Sam said.
Matt didn't understand how Samandriel could be so calm about all of this. Lucifer was the Devil! He was evil! But Sam didn't look either surprised or revolted - just sad. How did he even know all of this? And the Apocalypse? Matt didn't want the world to end.
He thought about Artemis telling him that his choice to remain with Samandriel wouldn't be easy. Maybe this is what she meant. Stopping the end of the world. He couldn't think of anything harder.
"What can I do?"
Sam looked at him, smiling with amusement. "Go home and live your life."
Matt scowled at him but Sam shook his head. "Do you know that most angels have no idea what humans are really like? They think we're nothing more than monkeys - mud monkeys, they call us - because they are old enough to have known the world before we began. They saw humans before we evolved into what we are now, and they still think we are as dull as animals.
"If you really want to help, live your life. Show Samandriel what it means to be human. The good and the bad. Then, if you get the chance, show another angel. Let them see humans for what they really are. I can't think of anything that would help more."
"What are you going to do?"
Sam sighed and for a moment, he looked so defeated, looking around at the carnage from the battle. "I'll head back to school." He looked thoughtful for a moment, then said "I go to Stanford University, in California. Palo Alto. If you need me, you can call the University and someone will get a message to me." He frowned. "Or ask for The Feckin' Bean when you call. Anyone there can help." He looked at them for a long moment. "You gonna be okay?"
Matt looked down at the rabbit in his arms, who met his gaze, and grinned. "We're gonna be awesome."
There was the honking of a car horn and an ambulance stopped along the nearby road. The window rolled down and both of them looked to see the nurse from the hospital poke her head out. "Matthew Pike!"
"Oh crap," Matt muttered.
Sam grimaced. "Want me to come back with you? Say I kidnapped you?"
"Nah." Matt hugged the rabbit to him. "My mom's probably just losing her shit. I'll be okay." He eyed Sam a long moment, looking at the wings that stretched behind him. "Thanks for your help, Sam."
He looked down at the rabbit. "You ready to come back in?"
"I doubt they will let a rabbit in the hospital."
"Come on, then." There was a rush of air and the flutter-flap of wings, and Matt sighed in relief as that empty space inside him was finally filled again. "Never leave again."
"I don't ever want to."
Matt turned to see Sam watching them, a strange look on his face like a mix of surprise and curiosity and something Matt couldn't identify. He tilted his head. "What is it?"
Sam shook his head with a smile. "Nothing. Just… seeing something I hadn't before. Call me if you need me."
"I will."
Matt turned and jogged to the ambulance, speaking to the nurse. He climbed in the back and waved to Sam before shutting the doors and sitting down on a bench with a sigh.
What a weird day.
The ambulance started moving and Matt dozed as they made their way back to the hospital. It was not doing to be fun facing his parents after disappearing when he should have been hooked up to the stupid needle drip.
He woke as the ambulance trundled to a stop and the doors opened, but when he hopped down from the ambulance steps, he realized they weren't at the hospital.
Matt frowned as he noted the clearing they stood in, and turned when he heard footsteps behind him. A woman stepped into view, tall, with her hair pulled back right in a bun and a bored look on her face. "Hello, Matthew, I'm Miss Watt. I'm very interested in talking to you and your friend." She lit a match and dropped it to the ground, and fire swarmed around Matt in a ring, trapping them both.
He felt Samandriel shake within him, curling his wings in protectively.
"Very, very interested."