Chapter 2: A Moment to Breathe

In a small town outside of Phoenix, Arizona, a classic Chevy Impala sat outside a run-down hotel with the morning desert sun dancing and gleaming off its black exterior. The hotel's red shutters were peeling paint and weeds sprouted up out of the cracks in the sidewalk, but inside the air-conditioner pumped cool air into the humid room where the Winchesters worked, cleaning up after a successful hunt.

Dean sat on the edge of the bed closest to the door, the red plaid curtains drawn shut to drown out the intruding light and to avoid worried neighbors from taking a peek at the arsenal he had set up around him as he carefully smoothed a rag over a freshly sharpened knives' blade. Holding it up to the dim interior lighting above him he admired his work for a split second before setting it down and moving onto his machete.

On the queen bed beside him, his little brother Sam sat propped up against the pale yellow headboard, the red and brown striped comforter was completely discarded in the current heat and laid on the floor between the two beds. His dark hair was tucked behind his ears, revealing hazel eyes that were currently scanning over the screen of his laptop, mentally digesting information leading to a new hunt in the windy city of Chicago, Illinois.

He bit his bottom lip, glancing to his older brother on the opposite bed. Dean's green eyes never left his weaponry as he maintained it so his glance went unnoticed at the moment. Tapping his fingers against the frame of his laptop he stared at the screen, debating bringing the hunt up to Dean.

It was definite something to hunt. Something in Chicago was taking people and only leaving behind splattered remains and smears of blood. Previous to the cannibalistic encounters, the city had been host to a train of grave robbing incident where they'd find graves dug up, bodies missing with only broken bones laying here and there. Everything pointed to a messy Ghoul who had stepped up its game from dead flesh to fresh blood.

As much as Sam knew Dean would want something supernatural to hunt and rip apart to take his mind off of the whole world-coming-to-an-end issue they were facing, he wasn't sure this would be the hunt for them. For one, the last time they had been to Chicago, they had been lured there by the demon Meg as a trap for their father. Innocent civilians who had been born in Lawrence, Kansas were ripped apart by the animalistic Zoroastrian shadow demons, Daevas, who were being controlled by Meg. When their father had gotten close to cornering Azazel and got a lead on the Colt, Meg stepped up her game to set up an elaborate trap to capture Sam and Dean to gain leverage over John, which would have lead to his untimely death if they hadn't managed to escape. But they were trailed back to their motel where their father waited for them and the moment of realization that their own father wasn't safe around them and they'd almost gotten him killed still burned in Sam's mind when he remembered that Meg and the Daevas had followed them back as well. And he was sure it still lingered in Deans, if not more since he still felt responsible for his father's final death.

And the last time they'd encountered a Ghoul, it had been in the form of the half-brother they never knew they'd had, Adam Milligan. Although Dean had bashed the creatures head into a bloody pulp, he didn't want to be reminded of the encounter that left Sam struggling on the brink of death, bloody and tied to a sacrificial kitchen table. Not to mention the both of them were still harboring a silent grudge against their late father for the secrets he had kept from them such as Adam, or the darkened secrets he had kept from Adam that lead to him and his mother being murdered by Ghouls.

All and all, this hunt would bring up at least two unpleasant memories for Dean which would lead to an uncomforbly quiet car ride, a recklessly angered hunt, and probably a bitter argument or two between the brothers. He quietly debated searching for a different hunt. He hated the idea of leaving innocents to die at the hands of the Ghoul but in all honesty, the apocalypse was upon them. Dozens of people were dying left, right and all around and although the guilt of setting Lucifer free also weighed down on him that was responsible for all those deaths, Sam wanted to choose whatever he could that would keep his older brother closer to him in what could be their final moments on Earth.

He fiddled through the cloth of his t-shirt, feeling the small amulet that he wore underneath. The amulet that Sam had given Dean a Christmas many years ago when they were younger and their dad was away on a hunt. The amulet that Dean faithfully wore everyday for over 17 years until Castiel had borrowed it to find God. The amulet that had been abandoned discarded and judged as worthless before being dropped into a trash can. The sound it had made as it hit the bottom of the tin can broke Sam's heart, his mind registering what the sound meant. That Dean no longer cared about it, or about Sam. But Sam hadn't been able to leave it there, forcing himself to scoop it out seconds after Dean closed the door and slip it on over his own neck, bringing back horrible memories of when he wore it after Dean had been dragged to hell. Then he had salvaged it from Dean's ripped apart body to keep a part of his brother close to him. Now, he hid it under his shirt to keep a part of the close relationship he used to share with his brother. When Dean returned from Hell he gratefully accepted it back, restoring it back around his own neck where it belonged. Hopefully, when - if - they came out of this war alive, he'd once again accept it back.

A soft gust of wind fluttered through the room and the silent sound of invisible wings as Sam felt something appear behind him on the bed, shoving his torso forward to make room for itself in-between him and the headboard.

"There's a whole rest of the bed you could sit on Gabriel." Sam looked back over his shoulder, irritated at the dark ginger haired angel that was instantly behind him.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow in what was probably an attempt at pouting. "But I like it here."

"Fine." Sam grumbled and made a move to scoot to the other side of the bed when warm arms wrapped around his waist holding him still.

"And I like you here too. Did I say you could move?"

Sam glared at a spot on the wall, a hundred curses and retorts flowing through his mind that he bit back as his upper lip twitched. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Dean wave two fingers at Gabriel and mumble something of a 'hello' without taking his eyes off his cleaning project.

Dean's half-assed greeting was immensely better than a couple of months ago when he'd break something every time he turned around and saw the fake Trickster's smirking face. And his aversion of his green eyes was much better than the death glares that Sam usually felt burning holes in the back of his head. The brothers had long since stopped arguing about the Arch Angel's presence and Dean has slowly come to tolerate Gabriel being around them so often, even if he'd probably never accept what he did with his little brother behind closed doors. Sometimes open doors. Sometimes with Dean on the other bed slowly turning the volume on the TV louder and louder to drown them out until the neighbors banged on the walls complaining of the noise.

Sam sighed. To be honest, he was probably a terrible boyfriend. He hadn't even attempted to keep track of how long him and Gabriel had been dating. If they were even dating...could Arch Angel's date? Is that in the un-translated Bible somewhere? Mental images of sitting at a Thanksgiving table with Raphael while Michael cut the turkey with his flaming sword popped into his head and he quickly shook it back out. Sometimes he still couldn't believe he'd gotten into this relationship somehow.

"Thinking about Thanksgiving with my family again?" The voice behind him asked and he nodded. "Don't. Micah and Raph always argue and get the mashed potatoes eeeverywhere. It's a mess. Even worse on Christmas though when Mary shows up drunk and screaming about our dad knocking her up." He caught a slight glare from Dean. "Jesus' mom Mary, not yours. Geez, not everything is about you Winchesters, mind your own business."

Dean put down the .45 he was currently disabling. "Mind my own business? You're in our motel room! This is our business. Speaking of which, where the hell have you been the past week? We could have used your finger-snapping help taking down that - that uh...Aztec Shape shifter spirit..."

"The Nahule." Sam filled in for him.

"Yea, the Nazgule."

Sam sighed. "Nahule. Nazgules are what the Wraiths rode on in Lord of the Rings."

Dean snorted "Yea whatever. Nerd."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

Sam rolled his eyes as the usual 'brotherly love' banter he was used to with Dean.

"Anyways, back to the 'where the hell were you' part." Dean swung his legs over in-between the beds to look at Gabriel and then opted for staring at the lamp between their beds instead of watching the angel cuddle his little brother.

Gabriel rolled his olive eyes. "You guys did just fine without me. Like you always have." He dropped a hint at Dean's hunting skills hoping to drive the older hunter off topic and saw Dean slip into a cocky smirk as he mentally complimented his own skills.

Sam turned slightly to face him on the bed, forcing Gabriel to loosen his grip from around his waist. "Yea but you're always complaining about ...you know..." He lowered his voice as Dean raised an eyebrow and went back to cleaning his gun. "Us never having time to be together. Then you just vanish for a week?"

"Weeeeell it is kind of the end of the world Sammy." Using Dean's nickname for Sam earned the angel glares from both brothers. "Since I'm batting for Team Free Will now I figured I'd go do a little something. You know. Angel-business." It wasn't a complete lie. Sure his 'little' something was a 6 foot replica of the Godlike Wolf Fenrir but chances of the Winchesters, or Bobby Singer even , getting wind of that all the way across the states was a minimum chance. Especially since a hunter already thought he'd taken care of the problem. And it technically was angel business since he was an angel and this was his business. His twisted, slightly morbid business but business none the less.

"You could have popped in once in awhile." Sam mumbled, his stubbornness not letting him drop the subject. "Castiel stills comes around every once in awhile and he's not... 'with'...anyone."

"Or is he?" Gabriel smirked and waggled his eyebrows at Dean who looked up from re-assembling his gun and snapped.

"He's NOT." Dean practically growled.

"Fine, fine." Gabriel held up his hands in mock surrender. "But don't blame me when the feathers get out of the bag."

Dean cocked the gun threateningly although he knew bullets wouldn't harm the Arch Angel anymore than jellybeans would. Heck, he'd probably turn the bullets into jellybeans and eat them.

"For the last time you winged ass - I'm straight."

"You know, people used to think the Earth was straight too. And boooy were they wrong." Gabriel remarked back watching Dean fight back his frustration.

"Come on Gabe, chill. We've got enough on our plates at the moment without your homosexual commentary."

"Pfft, what've you got on your plates?" Gabriel leaned past Sam before he had a chance to catch him and clicked on his laptop. "Ooooh sounds like Ghouls in Chicago. Neat."

Sam mentally slapped himself for not closing the laptop when Dean hesitantly perked up on the other bed.

"Ghouls? In Chicago?" He stood up and flipped the laptop around to where he could see the screen. He looked up and fixed his little brother with a 'when were you going to tell me about this?' stare.

Sam shrugged and ran his fingers through his long hair trying to seem nonchalant. "I found it right before Gabriel showed up." Feeling slightly guilty as Gabriel shifted beside him, knowing that he'd re-directed Dean's irritation right back to his angel once again.

Dean straightened up, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he looked down at the weapons lying on his bed. Thoughts of Meg, his father, and Adam clearly running through his mind before he turned back to Gabriel.

"I don't get it. You're so almighty - why don't you just poof to Chicago and snap these sonsovbitches into oblivion?" He asked.

"Because that'd take all the adventure out of your life and you'd just sit around getting fat and lazy." Gabriel responded.

Dean and Gabriel stared down each other before Sam shoved Gabriel off the bed just to break eye contact before anything escalated into broken bones or holy fire. Instead of hitting the floor with an oof however, he merely reappeared on the foot of the bed, legs crossed.

"That wasn't nice."

"Yeah, well you never play nice so it's even." Dean answered for Sam and ducked the pillow the younger hunter threw at his head.

"I was trying to break you guys up - not start a new fight!" Sam sighed and flopped backwards onto the bed as Dean picked up a sawed off shotgun to clean the salt out of and Gabriel pretended to have a great interest in the imaginary dirt under his fingernails. In the past week that the trickster angel had been absent he'd almost forgotten how tiresome it was to keep him and Dean from verbally clawing at each other's throats and momentarily wondered if this was how Dean had always felt in-between him and their dad. This was probably his punishment for starting so many fights with his dad and God was sitting back watching the whole thing and laughing at having flipped the tables on him.

"Gabriel? Are you here because your dad likes torturing me?"

"What?"

"Nothing."

*SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN*

A black Nissan Xterra pulled up at a gas station outside of Nashville, Tennessee. Phil jumped out of the driver's seat, letting the southern wind ruffle his dark brown hair, reminding him to get a haircut soon. He needed to trim back the graying sideburns while he was at it, the last thing he needed was for some supernatural sonovabitch to get the idea that he was too old for this job. Then again, they could think what they wanted about his age. And he'd prove to them that age was just a number before he sent their asses back to Hell.

He'd been calling every hunter contact he knew, picking up more small information about the Trickster to add to his growing collection that sat in the passenger seat of his vehicle. Some of it old, some of it new, some of it probably completes bullshit. But all of it was one step closer to ending its unnatural life. For good.

His phone rang as he started pumping gas and he reached through the open window to grab it from the dashboard. Checking the caller ID, he flipped it open and put it to his ear, maneuvering the small plastic between his shoulder and head as he slid a fake credit card through the payment reader.

"Hey Luke, what's up?"

The slightly static voice of his old hunting buddy Luke slid through the phone sounding un-nerved.

"Hey Phil...I uh, I just ran into some old friends. They uh, they told me some things."

"About the Trickster?" Phil asked, clicking down the hold on the gas nozzle so he could hold his phone with a hand again and leaned back against his SUV.

"Nah, no, sorry, haven't got anything about that. But the Winchesters...Sam Winchester..."

Phil nodded, not sure why since his friend couldn't see him through the phone. "Yea. I heard they're the ones that got Ellen Harvelle and her daughter killed."

There was a slight pause on the other end and Phil could almost see Luke struggling with his words. "Well yea, there's that...but there's something else."

"Like what?"

"Like demon blood."

Phil stopped pumping, his full attention on the current phone conversation.

"What about demon blood?"

He could hear Luke shifting around through the line. "I ran into an old friend awhile back but I figured he just nuts. Worked with one of Gordon Walker's friends to track Sam Winchester down. I mean, even he said Gordon and his friend were nuts and all they ended up doing was tying up a poor hunter kid because he had the world's worst luck. But he said that Gordon said Sam had demon blood IN him. And he was going to lead a demon army."

"Yea well we all know Gordon is obsessive. Did he have any proof?"

"No."

Phil nodded and placed the gas nozzle back on the machine, getting back behind the wheel of the Nissan.

"But I ran into some other friends...recently." Luke continued. "They said Bobby Singer sent them on a hunt...there were some demonic omens he wanted them to take care of but for some reason Sam was nearby and wouldn't help out. Said he was done with hunting. So...they found the demons, right? But the demons turned their friend into road kill and they toke off. Not before they found out something pretty interesting..."

Phil paused letting the keys just rest in the ignition. "Go on..."

"Sam Winchester started the apocalypse Phil. I know it sounds crazy but look around. All the electrical storms, crop failures, the unsolved murders multiplying...this is the apocalypse. Here and now. Because Sam Winchester set Lucifer free."

Phil rolled his eyes. "You expect me to believe in Lucifer? Who are these guys that told you this shit? I want names."

Luke cut him off. "You fight demons everyday...why not believe in the one that created them? Lucifer is real Phil. This is REALLY happening. Lucifer, demons, angels, the whole shebang. And you wanna know how Sam started it?"

Phil sighed. "Sure. Humor me."

"By drinking demon blood."

He rubbed his eyes, blinking away the spots as he started the SUV and listened to the serious silence on Luke's end of the phone. "He drank demon blood? Why would a human drink demon- HOW would a human even get a hold of demon blood?"

"I know, I know, I know I sound insane Phil but you gotta believe me." Luke stammered over himself, desperation leaking into his voice. "I don't know why or how, all I know is he was hooking up with some demon whore and drinking her blood cause it - it gave him these powers...these weird powers that he used to free Lucifer."

The black vehicle pulled out onto the highway and Phil drummed his fingers against his steering wheel. "Ok Luke, ok, I believe you. Good night then." He said sarcastically and hung up the phone quickly before his friend could respond and dropped it onto the seat next to him, ignoring it as Luke called back.

"Leave a voicemail ya loony..." He murmured to the phone. He wasn't a fan of the Winchesters. He hadn't liked John from the second he saw him, and when he saw the little tykes he towed around he knew they'd end up just like him. He'd never actually met Dean or Sam when they grew up and started their own hunting careers, but he'd heard the stories. The stories hunters gossiped to each other about them evading and escaping the FBI over and over again, Wendigos, Strigas, and some less honorable things such as letting vampires go and getting on Gordon's bad side which explained why Gordon would have sent two hunters off their rockers after the boys. But spreading rumors about something as serious as the youngest Winchester having demon blood and leading a dark army went a bit extreme, even for Gordon.

He looked out the window at the dark sky, watching lightning flash far off in the distance. There had been a lot more demonic omens lately...but Gordon had gone missing years ago. Rumor had it that some vampires had finally gotten the best of him and Phil wasn't surprised at the lack of sympathy he felt for the fellow hunter. So if Gordon was gone, who was starting these new rumors about the apocalypse and Sam? He eased his SUV to the side of the road, coming to a stop so he could sit a moment with his thoughts. The signs were all around him but, what did they mean? He sighed and picked back up his phone, scrolling through his phone book. He was going to need to make some more calls and ask some different questions. It looked like it was going to be a long night for him and by the end of it he may have more than just the Trickster he needed to hunt down.

*SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN*

Dean had finished cleaning and re-assembling the weapons, stashing them safely back into the hidden compartment inside the Impala's trunk. He now laid snoring with one leg thrown outside of the sheets on the bed closest to the window, his comforter joined Sam's in the pile in-between the bed since it was entirely too hot in Arizona for blankets, even with the AC running.

Sam had closed his laptop after relunctuntly agreeing with Dean to go on the hunt in Chicago. It was across the room sitting on top of the TV that flickered images across it, the sound quietly still playing over the speakers since Dean had fallen asleep watching TV, and tried to not wake Sam who pretty much passed out as soon as he'd gotten out of the shower. His still wet hair slightly dampened the pillow that Gabriel was leaning against as he sat up against the headboard watching the brothers sleep and the older man on the TV as he spun a brightly colored wheel so the show contestants could guess letters to spell out words on a giant green, glittery screen.

Sam was breathing softly, one arm slung across Gabriel's waist and his face nuzzled into the side of the angel's chest so he could feel his breath ever so slightly every time he exhaled. In the silence of the night, he closed his own olive eyes, letting his mind drift off to do a bit of his own research for a new hunt.

Knowing all about Dean's aggression towards ghouls and both brothers' reluctance to return to Chicago anytime in their lives, he probably wouldn't have long for whatever he planned to do. It'd be a get in, do it quick and leave quicker job for them. And they were already clearly suspicious as to where he kept vanishing to for days at a time. Sure, he could easily help them on their hunts. But if he did that he'd never have any free time to himself to do his own hunting. And there were human monsters out there as well that needed to put out of existence as much as any other monster that lurked in the dark.

He zoned in on a man in Washington State and sighed. When dad said he wasn't making humans perfect he wasn't kidding. He just hoped Washington would be far enough from Illinois to keep his tricks under the Winchester's Supernatural Bullshit Radar.

He debated leaving instantly to get an early start but looked down at Sam's sleeping form and hesitated. Running his fingers through the human's dark curls he leaned closer and changed his mind. He'd leave in the morning after he got to see those pretty hazel eyes open again. And maybe after he got to annoy Dean a bit in his beloved car.

End Chapter 2