Author's Note: And finally Gabriel's POV. This story will only have 4 POV's: Dean, Sam, Castiel, and Gabriel. Welcome to Chapter 7!

Chapter 7

Gabriel

I have massive respect for humans. The things they put up with on a daily basis astounds me. I sit on the thin cot pretending to be a bed, watching Sam and Dean stretch and fold blankets like it's not freezing. I shiver under two blankets, not about to unwrap and expose myself to that. I'll get up when it's time to go…or at least that's what I want to do, but this human body of mine is telling me other things.

Its stomach growls, its bladder is heavy, the head aches, its muscles are tired. I'm not used to vessel complaints. My grace fuels them, making them impervious to human weakness and need. Any sweet-snacking I did was because I craved the taste of a cupcake. Having to eat makes it less enjoyable, and involuntarily losing consciousness for at least 5-6 hours a day—sleep—is insane. What a waste of time.

Allysiah, Cyrus, Farhad, Laela, Minu, and, until now, Cye were perfect vessels, their line crafted for me by God. And I loved them. I showed them all Heaven, let them know what they had to look forward to, before I returned them to live the rest of their human lives. I tried to only visit them a few times during their lifespans, not wanting to burn them out completely. There is only so much my healing can do after an extended stay, so I had to space my adventures out. They didn't mind, they loved me—but human life is so fragile. I wanted them to experience it all.

I pull the blankets over my head.

And they all did, even Cye, because I let him live with me. While he was alive, he enjoyed a young beautiful body for more than seventy years. He was conscious inside me and I let him talk, let him make requests. We went to places we both enjoyed. He had relationships. I took him to other worlds, let him meet other gods, showed him Heaven many times before I had to leave him there. He was my friend—and he'd encouraged me to run away for good after he passed on. It hadn't taken much convincing. We were of the same mindset, me and him. Me taking him was a great honor to him, but it was also an escape. He'd felt trapped at home; with me, he could see the world, and then give me the gift of an eternal vessel.

I miss him.

And to hear about Heaven dying without enough angels to support it? That means his soul and the souls of his family might fall back to Earth, lost. But can I really do something about that? I'll probably be the reason Heaven crashes and burns faster. It's better off without me. If the angels there stay put, it should be fine. Which means, no more angel deaths—and the biggest killer of angels is right here in camp with us. Joy.

We never should have left him alone with just Rowena as a guard, but who else was there? Me, hah. He'd have knocked me flat and come through, but maybe I could have distracted him enough for Rowena to do something more. We'll never know if I could have been more help out there than I am in here.

Chocolate bars and energy drinks can't fix my level of messed up. My shallow pond of grace shimmers inside me, and for every inch it deepens, it depletes two more when I have to use my power—or when I have those stupid nightmares about…

I shudder.

Why can't I get him out of my head? He's dead. I smoked his ass to nothingness. He's in the Empty. Gone forever. Hasta la vista Colonel Sanders wannabe. Dumbass cheap suit, hell, suits. He had a whole bunch of them, custom made. Busted my skull open when I got blood on one of them.

He liked to bust my skull open a lot, because he knew it'd knit right back up after a few hours. Bone-crushing was a sport, as was blood-boiling, eye-ball bursting, poisoning, basting my skin in holy oil and setting patches of it on fire. And the needles—the way he'd pull grace straight from my jugular. The way he'd shoot me full of demon blood to replace it. The blinding agony that followed, that scorched through my body and made me sick, every day. The first few years, I'd lie in that dirty cage and scream. The last few…I'd just lie there, sometimes I'd sit, look, when visitors came. He didn't let me see many people but him. A lot of times I was kept in the dark.

It was so dark.

So dark I forgot who I was.

What I was.

Forgot I was alive.

I was just there.

Then, the pain, and hunger, and thirst, and need to sleep hit. But there was no food or water, and if I slept, he—I cringe.

He's dead. I killed his ass. Smoked it to nothing. He's in the Empty.

But that doesn't stop my hands from shaking.

"Hey!" Dean's voice is rough. "Get up!"

I yelp as my blankets are tugged, my head exposed. I glare at Dean and he glares right back.

"We're gonna be leaving out soon," Sam says from the other side of the room. "If there's anything you need to do, you should do it now."

What would I need to do?

Oh. Wash, eat, change into something else, all manually, no power. Okay. I push off the bed, keeping the blankets around my shoulders.

"You're really that cold?" Dean asks.

"Nah, these blankets are my capes. They give me super powers," I mutter. "I'll be ready to go in a little bit." I mourn the loss of my blankets as I shed them back onto the cot and go for my backpack. There are shower stalls and communal toiletries in the next shack—the high life this is not. The mighty have fallen hard.

I suffer through lukewarm water, bar soap, thin and grimy with foreign usage, and a two-in-one shampoo so old the brand name's gone from the bottle, though I'm sure it's some dollar store off-brand product anyway. I get dressed fast. Thick jeans, thick socks, boots, sweater and a coat don't insulate me from the permanent cold. It's not the weather, it's me. Blowing in my hands, backpack over my shoulder, I head back to the Winchesters' shack and find Sam waiting for me.

"There you are," Sam says. "There's oatmeal for breakfast. We can go get you some, if…"

I shake my head. Oatmeal. Yuck. Stuff looks like something someone else already ate. "I've got it covered." In my bag are Honey Buns. Processed food is ambrosia. I offer one to Sam but he waves it off, too good for my fake food delights. That just means two for me. I devour the first Honey Bun in a few bites, and savor the second. My growling stomach eases and the pounding in my head calms a little.

"How are you feeling?" Sam asks.

I lick at Honey Bun glaze on my lips. "Like a million dingy, dirty bucks, dropped in a sewer and used to line rat nests."

Sam blinks at me for a second. "Uh… okay. You're not feeling well. Is it—is it Lucifer or did you just use too much power yesterday?"

"Does it have to be one or the other?" I ask, now licking the Honey Bun.

"I just wanna know where your head is, man. We might need you to do some scouting, but if you're not feeling up to it…"

"Scouting, like moving ahead and not having to travel with Lucifer?" Huh. That doesn't sound like the worst job they could give me.

"But you'd be alone," Sam says. "Can you—"

Frustration and embarrassment warm my face. Hope I'm not red. "If you didn't think I was capable of handling myself, you shouldn't have brought me here."

"I don't think you're incapable of handling yourself," Sam says. "I just… if you're sick, then you shouldn't. We make everyone sit out when they're sick."

"I'm not an 'everyone'," I say. "I'll scout. Tell me more about the job."

"Mom will tell you, when we meet up. She's gonna ring the bells in about 20 minutes for us all to gather up and move out. So, that gives us some time to talk, if you want."

"I don't want," I say, sucking my breakfast off my fingers and contemplating having another. My rations are limited though. Once I'm out of treats, I'll have to stomach the rations the rest of humans eat, salty things like jerky and lots of high protein cardboard.

"Castiel says you had a pretty bad nightmare last night and almost nuked him."

"I didn't almost—" Well, maybe I did. Heck, I don't know. All I ever remember is waking up and needing to tell myself that I wasn't there anymore. No one's ever been in the room with me before when that's happened. "Yeah, okay, if that's what he says, then I did."

"Bet that takes a lot of energy out of you," Sam remarks. "If you wake up with less grace than you went to sleep with, it defeats the purpose of you sleeping."

"Yes, Captain Obvious," I say and fish a Dr. Pepper out of my bag. These I can sip on for hours.

Sam rolls his eyes. "Look, I'm just thinking that when we get back, we could ask Rowena if there's something she can do, or make, that can help you rest without dreams. That way, you get better faster, and…"

"I don't nuke you?" I poke.

"Yeah."

I snort. "That's assuming Rowena will be there when we get back."

"You think she bailed?" Sam asks.

"You know her better than me, but I'd bail if I was her. She did her part and now Lucifer's free," I say with a shrug. "You can't blame her. She's afraid of him and couldn't care less about the people you came over here to help. She owed you one, and now she doesn't."

Sam hangs his head. Guess he'd thought about that too, but it sucks having things like that thrown back into your face.

"Sorry?" I offer.

"It's fine. If she's not there, we'll find her again and ask for you," Sam says.

"For me? 'Cause after all this, if we all get back, I'll have done what you needed me to. You won't need me anymore, so…"

"So?" Sam frowns. "You—do you think we're going to put you out after you came here with us?"

"It was a deal," I say.

"A deal that made you part of our team," Sam says. "I told you we help our own. Buy them Snickers."

"Temporarily. Dean can't stand me long-term, he can barely stand me now."

"Don't make assumptions about Dean," Sam says. "He's… Dean. It's hard to tell who he likes sometimes. But you're fine. He doesn't dislike you."

"Hm."

"We don't really have to wait 20 minutes to join the others, Sammy," I say. "I'm good to go."

Sam seems disappointed. Did he think we were going to have another heart-to-heart like we had in the bunker's kitchen? I'm not too keen on that kind of stuff, and besides…

"I told Dean," Sam blurts.

"Told him what?" I head for the door of the shack, ready to join the masses.

"I told him about what I promised you. And I told him that if anyone's going to ice Lucifer, it's going to me, or Rowena."

I don't turn to look at him, I stare straight ahead, at all the shacks out there, one of them maybe housing Lucifer. Laughter bubbles in my chest, and I chuckle until it aches, leaning in the doorframe. "Doesn't matter if he asks me to or not, I can't do it. Lucifer knows I can't do it. He's not afraid of me."

"He asked about you," Sam says.

"Who?"

"Lucifer."

I choke on my giggles. "Luci asked about me? How sweet." How horrifying. "What did he ask?"

"He wanted to know what happened to you, where you'd been," Sam says. "Dean and I didn't tell him anything, but I think Cass might have."

Shit. "That's just great."

"Just wanted to give you a heads up."

"Yeah, thanks." And on that note, I will eat another Honey Bun. I don't care if I run out, I deserve one. I shuffle out of the shack, unwrapping another sweet and hear Sam behind me.

"Don't be mad at Cass. He's trying to help."

"I'm not mad at Castiel." I say around bites.

The group of about 25 refugees, plus Mary, Dean, Castiel, my nephew Jack, and Lucifer stand in a huddle, murmuring and talking amongst themselves. Clearly, it's not meeting time yet. Lucifer winks at me over the crowd and I sneer. Asshat.

I make my way to Mary, ignoring Castiel's greeting. "Heard you had a scouting mission for me. I'm all ears."

Mary gives me a tentative smile, blue eyes giving me a once over. Her forehead wrinkles. "Uh, maybe…"

"You have a better scout than an archangel?" I ask, before she can tell me she's changed her mind and wants Castiel to run ahead.

"No." Her forehead smooths as she nods at me. "You'll do. Dean, Castiel, Jack, come here. Let's tell Gabriel what we know and what we need."

Of all the dumbass things I've agreed to do… The trees are blurs as I speed past them. There's a group of bad guy angels heading in the direction of the marching refugees. I don't know how they got wind of where we're going, but they got it. I ran into a whole group of them coming this way. I'll probably make it back to the people with only minutes of warning before they're under attack—but minutes are better than nothing.

I catch sight of Dean, Castiel and Mary and the group up ahead and shout, "Angels! Incoming!"

The frontline stops, ready with shotguns and pistols as I join the line, whirling and whipping out my angel blade. The band of bad angels thunders onto the path, the leader of the group ordering the rest to, "Kill them!"

Rifles cock. My muscles tremble. I can take out these angels, I can. They're not related to me. It's a different world. I can do this. I tighten my grip on my blade and then… the bad angels go up in several puffs of smoke—holy smoke. I swallow and turn, staring at Lucifer who has a hand up in the air, fingers in snapping position.

He used his powers, which means the angels cuffs—the ones that had held me—are useless. He smiles innocently—bullshit—and the cuffs vanish from his wrists. "Er, so, uh, about those. Yeah. I knew they weren't going to hold me. But I wanted to go with the flow, play nice, because it seemed to make you feel better. And, yeah, you're welcome."

And there's another thing that's just great.

Lucifer claps his hands, still smiling as people move away from him. "I told you. I come in peace. Team player!"

Glares, sneers, whispers. But what can we do? He's stronger than any of us right now, and so, we need his help. After a few more minutes of uncomfortable muttering, the group moves on, trudging to our next destination: a junkyard—who needs the Ritz?

I find a nice place to be alone, no Sams or Castiels wanting to talk, no Deans glaring at me for not finding something useful to do. I can lose myself between the rusted cars and trucks and scrap parts laying around here. I approach the shell of an old Chevy pick-up, 1969. I'd driven one of these, back when they were new. Sixty-nine was a wild time. I smirk, thinking about—

Footsteps and voices—annoying voices. Lucifer, and he's getting closer. I roll my eyes. Time to find a new place to be.

"Oh, there's your Uncle Gabe! Gabe, hold up! I want to formally introduce you to your nephew!"

I pretend to be deaf, until the kid talks.

"Hello!" Jack calls to me, as if we hadn't already had the pleasure.

I stop walking, shoulders hunched. "Hello."

"Hey-hey." Lucifer's suddenly beside me, all smiles. "I was just catching Jack up on the family, telling him how you were the class-clown."

"Yeah, and you're an ass-clown, things don't change."

"Oh, uh… ha-ha." Lucifer's laughter is about as fake as the powdered donuts in the bottom of my bag—they'll be crumbs by the end of this journey, just the way I like them. "See that, class clown. Funny. He's always had the jokes, this one."

I can leave now. I start to walk away, but Lucifer's hand is like an iron clamp on my shoulder. I stop again and he turns me to face him, his eyes boring into mine. I don't like being this close to him, and I definitely don't like him touching me. Before I can jerk away, he takes his hand off my shoulder and presses two fingers to my forehead. I leap back, snarling at him as he cocks his head at me.

"Your time with Asmodeus didn't do you any favors."

Freaking Castiel.

"And my time with you was worse. As I recall, you…"

"No, no, all happy times and happy endings there! We're good!" He cuts me off, grinning at Jack who looks uncertain. Lucifer gives him a little shrug, then puts his attention back on me. "You've been tainted with demon venom. You're burning it off, but not fast enough."

"I know that."

"I don't have the juice to fix it as I am now," Lucifer says. "And I would totally fix you, if I had the power. I'm low on grace too. Not as low as you, though, geez, baby brother. You and your messes. But hey, get me around some more bad boy angels, and maybe I can help you out."

"Don't touch me," I sneer.

"Oh, come on, lighten up," Lucifer says. "I'm trying to build something here, for the kid. We can put past disagreements behind us for him, can't we? Look at his cute little face! So innocent. He'd love to have an uncle around, someone else to tell him about God. I mean, there are so many things that happened between us and Pop that maybe I can understand better now that I'm a dad. Pop was tough, right, G? We butted heads a lot, but in hindsight, I gotta cut him some slack, because being a dad is hard."

"Are you really making Dad the bad guy, and painting yourself as the victim?" I'm starting to wish that I hadn't eaten all those Honey Buns. Lucifer's making me sick, as per usual. I can walk away, leave. Lucifer might not grab me again. But I have to say this. "Dad was not the bad guy. That's just you making excuses."

The friendly smile finally fades from Lucifer's lips and I see an expression I recognize, brewing anger. It comforts me, knowing that I got under his skin, and made him drop his mask.

"Excuses for what?" His voice is low.

"For everything you destroyed."

I walk away, tense, expecting him to grab me with his powers, hands, whatever he's got, but nothing touches me but icy air as I make my way through the junkyard, in search of another unpopulated place.

I really want to be alone.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think. Please review!