Okay so a few answers for everyone:
Michael is going to remain a 'he'. I want to make it very clear that the spirit inhabiting Jo is drastically different, as in male different. Also, in those scene coming up when Jo is, well, Jo, I want there to be a distinction..
Which leads me to YES JO IS GOING TO BE IN THIS. Not Michael/Jo, just Jo. I'm not saying how or why or what's going to happen but she'll be here within the next 3 chapters.
Yes I plan to explore where Michael was, what the conflict with the other Angels is and why he's so angry.
Oh and as of right now I've got no plans for slash.
In the first minuets of the morning, those blissful moments spent in the space between sleep and true wakefulness, Dean could pretend it was a dream.
Not just that Michael was inhabiting Jo's body, no, pretend farther than that. Pretend that Jo was alive and well and rocking out to REO. Pretend that Bobby was walking and Sam had enough sense to know that a demon was bad news. He could pretend that Ellen was alive and hey, maybe he could take it back another step to where Dad was still around. But it was only in those last moments before he opened his eyes. Because then he did that, then the dawn light hit his eyeballs and he saw the three figures standing outside the room. The two distinctly masculine shapes and the one far more feminine one, contours of her body lost to the shape of the leather.
Dean groaned and rolled onto his back, flinging his forearm over his eyes in a failed attempt to return to the place of peace. But the place did not come back. He remained where he was. It was strange and impossible to think of what happened, of the idea that Michael was there, real and truly there, it was a hard one to deal with. He had a feeling that the Archangel would find a way to join the battle, he just had always thought that it would be through him. That stomach cancer thing was just painful enough a few more rounds of it and he was sure he'd say yes. Or if they hurt Sam----
Dean knew if they hurt Sam there wasn't anything he wouldn't do to save him. He had sworn that he'd save Sam, save him in any way that he could. But sometimes, usually at the worst times, he thought of the other people. People like Bobby, people like Jo. People who he was supposed to be able to protect. His Dad had managed to protect more than one person but each time Dean tried to do it, they just were ripped away. Cas got blown to hell and Ellen, God, even if Jo was somehow there he had a feeling that there wasn't enough of Ellen to even bury properly. At least Castiel had found a way back, though Dean knew it wasn't a way the Angel was inclined to talk about. And now Jo was back as well, though from what Michael said she was still too close to death.
Dean let his arm drop and sat up slowly, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Running a hand over his face he leaned his elbows on his knees and let out a breath. Dean still didn't know how he felt about Jo. Sure he thought of her as someone who needed to be protected but that didn't change the fact that their first meeting had her slamming her fist into his nose even after he became the one holding the gun. Sometimes Dean would say she annoyed the hell out of him, like Sammy tended to do. But other times, other times she would fix him with this look that seemed to cut past all the bullshit he surrounded himself with. And she would smile. Usually when people got past that, when they saw what he really was, they looked at him with sadness, fear or, worst of all, pity. But not her. She would just smile at him and even if he hated to admit it, in those moments Dean felt like maybe he wasn't a bad person. Like maybe he could actually pull everything off, save the world, save his brother, get the girl.
The image of that smile was quickly replaced in his head with the image of her holding him up, the look in her eye so alien and furious that there was no doubt Jo Harvelle was far far away. The bitch of it was that Dean knew shed agreed to it. There hadn't been time for the bullshit they'd pulled with him. They had barely made it out of the alleyway and Dean had seen Jo's eyes going bleery even as he kissed her. Truthfully he doubted she'd survived that long. But Michael had offered and she'd agreed and the thought made Dean sick. He'd wondered what kind of sorry bastard would let an Angel take over their bodies, sorry bastards like Jimmy Novak who was religious enough to walk into the light, leaving his wife and daughter behind. But now he knew, it wasn't sorry bastards, it was people who wanted to help. Jimmy might have wanted to help Castiel, wanted to help God or something like that. He knew though that Jo had wanted to fight, that if there was one person she had wanted to help, it was him.
Jo Harvelle had done this to save him.
The thought was crippling. He knew Sam would do something like that, hell he half expected him to. But Jo, Jo had nothing to do with their pact of saving the other when the world said they couldn't. And yet she had willingly given up her body to keep fighting. Rationally Dean knew she had nothing to loose. It wasn't like she was going to say no and walk away to live to fight another day. It was either she said 'yes' or she got blown up with her mother. Even with that rationality, it was still hard for him to believe she had actually done what she did. Dean had known for a while that he didn't like it when Sam put himself in harms way to save him but other people doing it, that was the worst.
"Dean?"
Dean looked up, surprised to see one figure had drawn away from the other two. Though there was no reason he should have heard Cas's voice, he knew the Angel wanted to talk to him. Dean knew that they needed to talk. It was pretty bad that Michael and Gabriel were here, but the two of them outranked Castiel like he and Sam outranked the newbie hunters. Standing up Dean yanked on a pair of jeans, kicked on his boots and grabbed his jacket before walking out of the room. Closing the door behind him he glanced at Michael and Gabriel, but neither Archangel looked at him. Shrugging on his jacket he found Cas's form halfway down the lot. Dean ran his hand through his hair before he took off towards the Angel. Unlike his brethren, Castiel waited patiently for Dean to get to where he was. Dean stopped in front of the Angel.
"You called?" he asked sarcastically.
"Yes," Castiel said, his tone formal.
"Cas," Dean said warningly, "don't go all Angelic on me here."
"How can I not be Angelic?" Castiel asked, the odd note of confusion that Dean had been hearing less and less of present in his voice.
"Nevermind," Dean said looking behind him at the motel, "so, Michael and Gabriel are here."
"You are dealing with it better than expected," Castiel said.
"Yeah, well," Dean shrugged, "don't got much of a choice, do I?"
"That was not how you sounded a day ago," Castiel said.
Dean looked away from the Angel. Castiel stared at the eldest Winchester, the oddest feeling of concern bubbling inside him. It anyone it seemed that Dean was upset but resigned to the events occurring but Castiel knew him better than that. Dean Winchester was not a man to resign himself and certainly not lightly. He followed Dean's gaze to the figures standing guard at the motel doorway. Gabriel was one thing, a figure they had dealt with before, someone they had converted to their cause. But Michael, that was someone new, an Archangel that had given Dean no reason to like him. Who had given neither of them a reason to trust him. Worse, if Michael's actions last night were any indication, there was discord in Heaven that Castiel had not been aware of.
There was fighting amongst the Archangels.
This was a problem for many reasons, if for nothing else than the fact that the superiors influence those they had power over. When the Archangel's fight it took very little for the rest of the Heavenly chorus to join in. Michael, Lucifer--they had established themselves as the two main sides but Angels had sided with their favorites. Raphael, Zachariah, all of them had their own sides as well, though they had still aligned themselves with Michael. Those who had sided with Lucifer and his kind were cast out as well. With Judgement Day on its way, the last thing that they needed were divisions in Heaven. That was the one thing that they could not afford.
"I learned last night that Michael has been absent from Heaven," Castiel said, meeting's Dean gaze when the Hunter looked at him, "its highly unlikely he's taken a vessel which means he's been on earth but unable to interact."
"Searching," Dean said, "he's been searching for something," he looked over his shoulder, "with all the shit that's been going down it'd be easy for him to slip by as long as he didn't cause so much trouble."
"Exactly," Castiel, "I believe he was searching for either God or Lucifer."
"Lucifer?" Dean demanded, "why the hell would he be running around looking for Lucifer if he doesn't have a vessel?"
"You forget, Dean, that Lucifer and Michael were brothers--are brothers."
"Yeah, you all are one big happy family," Dean said with a snort.
"No," Castiel said, "but the Archangels consider themselves brothers. They fought like brothers--but they loved each other like brothers as well," he looked over at the two figures, "that relationship is not going to go away."
"So you're saying that Michael what? Loves Lucifer?" Dean snorted, "the guy's gone through a lot of crap to make sure he beats him down, he doesn't sound like the brotherly type."
"Shortly after Lucifer's banishment," Castiel said, "Gabriel made a rule in Heaven. We were not to speak of Lucifer, especially not to Michael," Castiel paused, "last night Gabriel broke that rule and Michael beat him into unconsciousness."
"So you're telling me Michael's really some warped kind of overprotective brother?" Dean demanded, "I thought you Angels had trouble with this emotional stuff."
"Human emotions," Castiel said, "and while it is more," he frowned, looking for the word he needed, "complicated than that," he continued, "we must remember that in Michael's presence the situation is anything but simple."
"You don't have to tell me," Dean said. Castiel looked at him curiously, "yeah, lets just say Michael's a decent healer and leave it at that."
Castiel was surprised at the protectiveness and anger that roared up in him. He had noticed nothing about Dean's physical state when he let the church with Michael, he had been far too concerned with his emotional one. But now he realized that he should have assumed that there would be violence on Michael's part. Dean probably had not helped matters but he doubted he deserved what Michael did to him. The greatest warrior in Heaven, Michael's skill had been thought to only be challenged by Lucifer but since his defeat, Michael as unmatched. It made sense that he would resort to violence. Castiel had no doubt that he would have been killed once more if he had intervened, but in hindsight he realized the impulse had been there. Castiel was still not sure how he felt about having such impulses.
"You need to be careful when you speak to him," Castiel said looking at Dean.
"You want me to sugar coat my words for Heaven's most badass warrior?" Dean snorted, "cute, Cas, but it ain't gonna happen."
"Dean I'm serious," Castiel said, "your emotions override your survival instinct but this is not the time to fall prey to such things," he stepped closer to Dean.
"Cas," Dean looked at his shoes and then at him, "personal space, remember?"
Cas took a step back, shoving his hands into his pockets in what Dean was beginning to think was a nervous gesture. Dean sighed and looked over his shoulders at the sight of Michael and Gabriel. They had moved, or Gabriel had. He was motioning emphatically as Michael stood with his arms crossed. Even far away, Dean recognized the look on his face. Jo had given him that look before, that look of disbelief mixed with confusion and tainted with disbelief, even a little amusement. Dean let out a breath as he looked at the two Archangels standing there.
"You care for her," Castiel said. Dean's eyes moved to the Angel, "I have seen that look on your face, denying it will only hinder your acceptance of the fact."
"I--" Dean sighed and shoved his hands into the warm pockets of his coat, "be quiet Cas."
Back in the motel room, Sam lay on the bed and tried to find answers in the cheap, uneven concrete of the ceiling.
Unsurprisingly it offered him nothing. Just rough concrete. Sam shifted slightly against the cheap sheets of the motel. He hadn't slept last night, not one wink. Every time he had closed his eyes, every time he had started to drift he had been jerked into wakefulness. But the instant before that happened, he would smell sulfur. Sam wasn't an idiot, he knew what that smell was. What scared him was that no warning bells went off. He smelled it and it didn't bother him, not one little bit. If anything the smell was strangely not frightening. If he had to name the emotion--though he wished to do anything else with it--he would say it was comfort. The sulfuric smell would reach his nostrils and to Sam it seemed like it was welcoming him home.
There were other changes as well.
Salty foods were inedible to him and foods that had even a bit of the stuff had him running for the nearest water fountain. He could still hold weapons and fight demons but he had a feeling that if he tried to wear any sort of amulet it wasn't going to go well. He had yet to feel the lack of food in his Hunts but he knew that wasn't going to stay that way for long. Sam reached down, scratching at an itch on his chest. His eyes remained on the ceiling as he lay on the bed. He half wished he could be naive enough not to know what the physical changes meant. Maybe if it was one he could dismiss it but there were just too many to deny. Like pieces of a puzzle they were falling into place, but Sam already knew what the picture on the box showed.
Frowning Sam craned his neck downwards at the itchy spot on his chest.
His eyes widened as he saw the tattoo to ward off possession. His fingers had scratched hard enough to break the skin, leaving three red lines through the center of the sigil, a shorter line marring the outer lines. Sam's eyes widened at the blood that painted the black lines. Slowly he withdrew his hand, holding it up to his face. There was only a little bit of blood, just on his nail, but it was obvious. Sam looked at the blood on his fingertips, half expecting it to drip down onto his face, into his mouth like the blood had when he was a child. Like Ruby's blood had when he was an adult.
Jerking himself back into reality, Sam sat up. Angrily he wiped his hand across the bedsheet, wiping the last bit of blood before he shrugged on his shirt. Shakily, Sam sighed and sat on the edge of his bed as the door opened. His eyes rose to meet the cocky ones of the Archangel. Gabriel peered inside, his eyes landing on Sam's form. Sam winced at the confirmation that yesterday hadn't been a dream. Gabriel smirked as he looked at Sam, obviously amused by the disgust on the younger Winchester's face.
"Yo, Apocalypse Now, I gotta go force feed Michael. You wanna come hold his arms down?"
"What?" Sam demanded, his eyes wide with shock.
"You heard me. Get dressed if you wanna get fed," Gabriel said closing the door.
It took Sam a moment to pull on his boots before he got to his feet and crossed the room. Reaching out he pulled the door open. But the sight that greeted him was anything but what he wanted to see. Gabriel was standing there, his profile showing to Sam. Sam peered out the door to see Michael walking away from him, purpose in his every stride.
"Come on man!" Gabriel shouted, throwing his hands up. He sighed and turned to Sam, "well that could've gone better," he said wiping his hands on his pants, "you still want breakfast? I'm starving."
"You're asking me to go to breakfast with you?" Sam repeated, looking incredulously at the Archangel.
"Cool it, Samantha, you ain't that cute. I'm hungry and, lets face it, in no position to leave you alone. I'm trying to be nice and ask but we both know that in about five seconds I'm going to transport us to the nearest diner whether you want to eat or not."
"No-no I'm up for eating," Sam said stepping out, "lets just walk, how about that?"
"Fine," Gabriel sighed waving his hand, "lets walk. You have no idea how much I miss my wings right now," he muttered as Sam fell into step behind him.
The two of them walked across the road and into the small town. Gabriel seemed to know where he was going which left Sam little choice but to fall in line behind him. Though warning bells went off in his head, telling him that he need to get as far away from the Archangel, he pushed himself forward anyway. What if the hesitance, what if it was a symptom of the changes? Ignoring it he forced himself to walk with the Archangel to the diner. Gabriel did not say a word as he walked, to anyone else they would have looked like two friends out to breakfast.
Gabriel pushed open the door to the diner, a small bell alerting everyone to their presence. Sam stepped into the darkness of the diner. It looked as outdated as everything else in the town, just a little wrong, just a little off. Gabriel didn't seem off put in the slightest as he shifted his weight and looked into the dim light. A moment later a pretty waitress came hurrying out, her smile bright and friendly as she looked at the two of them.
"Hi there! Why don't you boys sit anywhere and I'll come back with some menus?"
"Thanks," Gabriel said as Sam smiled and nodded before he followed the Archangel into the booth.
The woman came over to them a moment later, placing menus in front of them.
"Rough night?" she asked looking at them with the same friendly smile, "you boy look as though you could use some coffee."
"Sweetheart, have no idea," Gabriel said.
She smiled and turned, walking back to get their coffees. Gabriel picked up the menu and perused it, his eyes moving across the offerings. Sam laid his hand over his menu but he found it difficult to look at the food. It was just so strange to think that he was sitting in a diner eating breakfast with Gabriel the Archangel. Gabriel's face was hidden by the menu but when he lowered it and their eyes locked, the Archangel raised an eyebrow as he looked Sam up and down.
"What?" he asked.
"Nothing," Sam said looking away before he looked back at him, "its just, this is weird."
"Yeah, no kidding," Gabriel smirked, "you and your brother seem to land in a lot of shit huh?" Sam raised a skeptical eyebrow, "yeah I know, I ain't exactly one to talk," the waitress came back, "chocolate chip pancakes, whip creme," Gabriel ordered.
"Eggs and toast," Sam said, "please."
"Coming right up," she said turning and walking off.
"So," Gabriel said with a grin, "which TV show was your favorite?"
"Excuse me?" Sam stared at him.
"Oh I get it, you want to pretend like I didn't completely fuck you over," the Archangel laughed, "bad plan, buttercup. Letting shit stew, its never a good idea. Here, I'll go first. My favorite TV show," he considered it for a moment, "I got it. Japanese Game show. Your face," he laughed, "now that was what I call great tv."
Sam glared at him, failing to see the humor in him being slammed in the nuts by a brightly colored ball.
"Alright," he shifted looking at Gabriel, "whose older. You or Michael?"
Gabriel looked at him and for a second he thought the Archangel was going to tell him to go screw himself but much to his surprise, Gabriel sighed and looked back at him.
"Michael," he said, "and when he's being a dick--like now--he never lets you forget it," Sam smirked at that, "what?"
"Its just, Dean sometimes does that too," he said toying with the sugar packet he held, "so its Michael, Lucifer then who?"
"Then me," Gabriel said, "then Raphael and we go down the line from there," the waitress returned with their plates and coffees, "thanks," Gabriel said with a bright smile in her direction.
She smiled and set the plates down. Gabriel immediately started into his pancakes as Sam slowly began to eat the eggs set in front of him.
Neither man paid much attention to the door that opened behind them, the bell chiming into the recesses of the shop. Nor did they listen to the sound of the boots that walked across the cheap tiles, purpose echoing in every step. Sam glanced up at one point, more to look at Gabriel but the figure caught his eye. Though he knew he had never seen the man before, he also knew that the familiarity was unmistakable. Blond hair, slicked back from handsome features and skin that seemed to never have seen the sun, the ominous presence was only heightened by the black jacket and dark jeans that clad his body. Sam nudged Gabriel who gave no sign of responding as the man strode over to their table, stopping in front of them. Sam looked at the man but Gabriel did not.
"Where is he?" he asked, his voice heavily accented.
"Yeah," Gabriel snorted, "like I'm gonna tell you," he looked at the man witheringly, "why don't you go fuck yourself and come back when the Apocalypse is averted?"
The man looked away before he looked at Gabriel once more.
"I need to speak to him," he said, his voice low.
"No," Gabriel said putting down his fork, "no you know what you need to do is apologize," the man arched an eyebrow, "you know who this is," Gabriel said nodding to Sam, "so why don't you look him in the eye and say 'I'm sorry I was such an unbelievable dick'," the man's eyes narrowed, as if Gabriel had insulted him, but he still showed deference. The same kind of deference that Sam had watched Castiel and Gabriel show Michael, "well?"
The blond man turned to Sam.
"I apologize for my behavio--" Gabriel cleared his throat loudly, obviously, "I'm sorry I was such an unbelievable dick," the blond man said.
"Okay," Sam said slowly, his eyes moving helplessly to Gabriel, "who is he?"
"Oh, right," Gabriel said getting to his feet and taking a last bite of the pancake, "Sam Winchester, meet the Archangel Raphael. Raphael, meet Sam Winchester," he swallowed, "now. Why don't you give me a reason why I shouldn't either send your sorry ass back to Heaven or, I don't know, trap you in a ring of Holy Fire until this little debacle ends?"
"Neither," Raphael said, "I must speak to Michael. I know he is here and I have urgent news from Heaven," Gabriel arched an eyebrow expectantly, "the message is for Michael's ears only but if I do not speak to him, if he does not listen to me, then the Judgement Day suddenly seem so eager to stop will happen--sooner than any of us could have predicted."
Gabriel looked him up and down before he stepped forward.
"You try anything and I swear, you'll be watching God's return from a very warm seat."
Okay! So now just so you know, as of Wednesday I'm going to be off for thanksgiving and that means no updates. However, I'm hoping to have 1-2 chapters PAST this one up by then. I'm going to try and take this story to the point where Jo (real Jo) comes into the picture.
Please review!