So, people, my cat died a few weeks ago. I was too depressed to write much, but I updated my HP fic and finally found the incentive to watch 'like a virgin'. Now Gabriel is back and there will be more Cas/Gabe fluff. Hopefully. If I remember…
Disclaimer: Don't own Supernatural any more than I do the cure for cancer. Which is unfortunate.
Chapter Thirteen: Lose It While You Can
As it turns out, the reason for Gabriel's dearest(most insane) brother being covered in angel blood was actually a pretty good one. It would appear that Raphael was getting back into the swing of things, meaning not decapitating some poor sod just because his tart accidentally fell onto his new Armani suit. Raphael was giving up the fine art of smiting and returning to his old occupation of healing. Starting with the same poor sod who decided to bring said tart into Heaven in the first place. Balthazar, sporting a huffy pout and steaming slightly from the rear, was led into the Pantheon after being chased down by an angered archangel and laughing cherubs pointing and laughing at his unfortunate, well, end. How he got the tart in the first place was a mystery that no one asked, but at least Gabriel got something out of it. The tart was delicious, by the way. Apple and cinnamon, with a hint of brown sugar.
Trying to get the last bit of stickiness off the tip of his nose, you can imagine his shock when the angel who went into the great hall of stone made his way out alive. With Raphael on a streak, there was no telling what might happen. This was apparently one of the better times and completely unlike the smiting phase he had gone through recently. At least he didn't have to hunt for one of his old hiding spots. Smiling cheerfully, Gabriel flew over casually and 'accidentally' kicked Balthazar in the ass. To say he wasn't happy was an understatement but to get back at an archangel was practically begging for another trip to Dr. Raphael. Needless to say, he was proud of his payback and of the rebuilding his little fledgling was coordinating in his stead. Gabriel never was one for architecture. Or painting. Anything that involved work, really. Then again, that was before he went all martyr and joined the bloody freakin' Winchesters. Now he really knew the meaning of work.
Hell, it was a war just trying to get them out of bed in the morning!
Recalling the happy and slightly violent sleeping patterns of the boys, he grimaced. Their vacation was coming to an end very, very soon. Either by hook, arrow, claw, tooth or…fairy dust, those knuckleheads were getting back to normal too. Well, they would as soon as Sam finally rolled his lazy ass out of bed. He would wake up. Gabriel hadn't gone to all that trouble just to have Death comatose the boy. Absently checking on the eedjit, he froze and started walking faster, muttering, "Of course he would make me do everything in this deal. No, getting his soul back and nearly turning us all inside-out wasn't enough for him. Instead, he turns Dean into an intern and just shoves a soul into one of the weaker chakra points so we can watch him explode. Thanks a bunch!"
Finding Castiel watching him with that annoying intensity, Gabriel brightened and wrapped an arm around his fledgling's shoulders. "Cassie! My dearest baby brother, who we are all in awe of, by the way, whom I love ever so dearly! Would you mind not trying to kill me after I tell you this?" When Castiel opened his mouth to say 'no', he just kept on going. "Awesome! Well, you know how I just got Sam's soul back?" All at once, he remembered that his darling brother hadn't known and was likely to gut him in the next three seconds if he didn't continue. "Never mind. Point is, Death… didn'. Andnowhe'sgoingtoexplodeifyoudon'tfixit. Have fun on your playdate!"
Unfortunately, Castiel followed along better than expected and immediately grabbed a fistful of Gabriel's robes. Sighing, he allowed himself to be forcefully dragged back to the realm of misery and Bobby's home cooking with minimal complaints. While his brother stormed off, Dean and the previously wheelchair-bound Bobby were staring at him. He couldn't help but notice the worry lines decorating their faces and immediately checked his own forehead, all the while sneakily erasing the lines. You could say that he didn't care. You'd probably be right. It's just, the way Sam and Dean were with each other reminded him of Cas when he was little and not as hateful. Kind of cute, in a way. Maybe he didn't want their relationship to end like his always had.
His thoughts were interrupted by a heated conversation coming from Sam's room. Getting up, he was met with a scene that would never have come to pass in any future or the next if the situation didn't call for it. Castiel was fighting his beloved pet human, calling him selfish for wanting his brother back after having his soul all but flayed alive in the cage. Wincing, Gabriel couldn't help but shudder. Not of the memories from the cage but the ones from just outside of it. Screaming humans and that one unfortunate Titan Prometheus getting his liver ripped out repeatedly made a cacophony in his head. Suddenly, the spray of blood wasn't human. It was angel, tinted a silvery blue that glittered against the stained black chains and rocks of Hell. Gasping softly, he fell to the ground as an ancient voice flooded his ears with the feeling of tearing flesh. Ah cooman lee, lall fuillen arshentel. Ah cooman mudderah, mefferah. (Come to me, little fallen archangel. Come to mother, messenger.)
Suddenly coughing on his own silvery blood, Gabriel tried to see past the carnage to what was obscuring his visions only to find a great abyss opening up to swallow him whole. In his mind, there was no light. Wailing, he distantly felt himself caught in a pair of familiar arms before being dragged back to the darkness. No matter how he fought to free himself, there was no light to shine through it. Words were whispered in Enochian that brought little comfort but enough strength to pull away. At once, as his mind cleared of the disorienting fog that the dark seemed to have put on his mind, Gabriel knew what he was facing. He almost laughed. He had seen this before so many times in nightmares and war that It should seem so easy to defeat. After all, God had created this evil through no fault of his own and had locked It up to protect humanity. Gabriel himself had hidden the key to It's release. Now it seemed possible that the key had been found and here he was, trapped in a vision! With one last shot, he let lose a burst of grace that made It screech and drop him.
Pain. It always seemed to be pain that he woke up to, for some reason. Gabriel felt himself being lowered onto a soft and slightly springy mattress by that same pair of arms. Fluttering his eyes a little, he looked into Castiel's baby blues and croaked, "M-mother…all" before a slightly brighter darkness took him over completely. The pain went with it.
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This is going to kill us all. I never should have let them try to get his soul back. If he sees… Castiel could think only of what would happen if Sam tore down Death's barriers. As he gently opened the chakras to allow the human's soul to flow freely back into his body, he couldn't help but be angry on the boy's behalf. This soul, to put to loosely, felt like it had been quartered, smote, stabbed and run over by a truck repeatedly in the year it had been gone. Shuddering at the feel of the energy that almost seemed to weep, Castiel breathed deeply and bit his lip until it bled. After drawing his hand out as softly as he could, he cursed his brother nine ways to Hell for making him do this. Actually, it was Gabriel's fault in the first place for bringing back Sam's battered life energy. Waiting a few seconds and half hoping the soul wouldn't fit, he was actually sorry that it did.
If that wall came down…
Walking silently to the door, he barely restrained himself from slamming it shut in frustration. Castiel's anger flared when Dean waltzed into the hallway, pain and sadness embedded in his eyes. Unable to restrain himself, he hissed, "If you wanted him to suffer, congratulations. You've done it. Why didn't you outright kill him and save yourself the trouble?"
"What are you talking about, Cas?"
Shivering slightly, he growled, "Sam's soul felt like it had been flayed alive. It was all but nonexistent when Death forced it into him and the blocked chakra points only made things worse. There is still a chance he will explode. There's an even bigger possibility that he will never wake up. You are selfish, Dean Winchester, for thinking your brother could live through this ordeal. It is torture of the cruelest form. You must-"
A sudden wail cut him off. It was cold, almost evil in the way it wrapped around his heart. Gabriel. Where was he? Rushing out of the doorway, he was just in time to see the shadows wrap around his writhing brother and try to get under his skin. Castiel cried out and summoned his sword. As soon as he stepped forward, the very breath from his vessel's lungs turned to ice and it was like walking through coalesced blood. The darkness tried to enter his body. It was strong enough to just flick him out of the vessel but a weak flare of grace from the struggling Gabriel made it stop. Castiel turned to the archangel just in time to see his eyes open and turn into twin pits of onyx. The shriek that came from his lips forced the humans to the floor, yet to Castiel, it was a plea for help to the only brother who could. So he fought the shadows to his mentor's side to tear him free. Whispering in Enochian, he soothed his brother and stroked the vessel's back.
All at once, with a strangled gasp of air, Gabriel's eyes turned pure gold, making the shadows scream. They disappeared as if they had never been while his brother went completely limp against his chest. Scooping him up, he flew to the nearest couch and settled the archangel there. He was the only one close enough to hear the weak word that made it past Gabriel's lips. Glancing at Bobby, he murmured, "'Mother' and 'all'. That's what he said. Do you think it's related to any of this?"
Shrugging, the old hunter said, "Maybe. The eedjit didn't sound like 'e was faking. Let me take a look, see what I've got. You should probably ask around upstairs. Bring this idiot with you."
Glancing at the blood dripping in a lazy stream from Gabriel's eyes, mouth and nose, Castiel couldn't help but agree. If whatever was going on was powerful enough to nearly kill an archangel then he didn't stand a chance. First grabbing his brother by the back of his shoulders then sliding another arm under his knees, he heaved him up and took flight straight towards the Pantheon. It wasn't long before three anxious archangels had torn Gabriel from his arms and shoved them both towards the healing wing. Lucifer and Michael were huddled together to keep their brother warm after feeling his icy skin and lack of powerful grace, conveniently in touching distance of his golden hair. Shaking his head in confused amazement, Castiel thought, Gabriel was right. They ARE obsessed with touching his hair.
Raphael checked him over with a trained eye and wrapped a small slice on his arm from where the blackness had touched him. Moving quickly to Gabriel, he instead closed his eyes. Reaching out to touch the deathly cool skin of his forehead, the healer furrowed his brow and murmured, "Michael, you got him the last time. Unless you want me or Lucifer to give it a go, he's locked himself up pretty tightly. It might be that you're the only possibility. Will you try?"
Nodding, the elder angel stepped closer to kneel next to Gabriel's frigid form and placed a hand on his forehead. A soft glow lit the room…and nothing happened. Huffing slightly, he made the grace more powerful only to gasp when a steady flow of blackness evaporated from the messenger's glowing skin. The three conscious archangels acted as one, raising their arms and giving a blast of grace strong enough to kill Russia, Asia and three quarters of Europe. Ever so slowly, the smoke was gone. Anything else would have been gone the second three of the four main archangels even moved their hands, glowing as they were with conjoined essence. Shortly after, Gabriel blinked open his eyes and drawled, "What? What did I mi-hmph!"
That was Gabriel being attacked by a former fledgling known as, of course, Castiel. Said former fledgling also very nearly kneed him in a very uncomfortable place but it was a comfort to know there weren't any guns around. He might have had to scream if there were. Especially since guns and Castiel never seem to be far away from each other. Come to think of it, every time the hunters took a potshot at him the young angel of Thursday was usually right there. Maybe this was a sign from God, or possibly another shot at 'house training' him from Raphael. Associate the Winchesters and Castiel with pain. An interesting concept, although one he was used to associating with Michael. And demons. And swords. Hmmm…well, it was associated with many things that he couldn't be bothered to remember at the moment. Should he make a list?
Pondering this, Gabriel realized it had absolutely nothing to do with the current situation, he had been thinking about it for ten minutes and his brothers were staring at him with the tilted head. A sign of confusion in any angel. Tilting his head the opposite way and grinning, he realized he wouldn't really be much help on this hunt. Michael's grace had given his own a jumpstart, just not enough to fill the void. In other words, he'd be sitting this one out. On the sidelines. A spectator. Exactly what he'd been doing for millions of years. Sheesh, this was going to be dull. Losing his grin almost as fast as it had come, he sat up and almost immediately went back down again. Nausea definitely wasn't the love of his life now or ever and her friend dizziness could just back off, because Gabriel hadn't survived a fatal stab wound(sort of) just to be put off by a little evil in his blood. Alright, so he hurled all over Mikey's feet. Big deal! He was going. As soon as the Pantheon stopped swimming. "Alright C-Cassie. Take me to the knuckleheads," he slurred drunkenly. Father, if only he'd had a shot or two, this might not be so bad…
Raphael took one look at him and promptly said, "Fine. If you move on your own, I will smite you. If you fly on your own, I will smite you. If you try fighting on your own with or without grace, we will all smite you. Also, if you get drunk and eat all of the pastries in some obscure café in Europe, the owners will attempt to kill you and you will puke. If you puke on Lucifer's clean robes like you did after that one Pagan feast in the old days, he will undoubtedly send you straight to purgatory. Finally, if you even think for one second about taking even the slightest glance into the future, not only will we come to earth and beat you three ways to Hell but your garrison will help us. Are we clear on these terms?…Gabriel?…Gabriel…oh, for the love of St. Luke, just go!"
Wiping the puppy dog eyes off of his features, the seemingly sixteen-year-old archangel turned to his littlest brother, immediately puked on Lucifer's clean robes and flew to earth. Castiel sighed and took off after him, catching up quickly and straightening his brother's flight pattern. Frankly, it's amazing he didn't just drop off when he stood up. Landing, or in Gabriel's case face-planting, in Bobby's living room, the guardian angel rubbed his forehead and pulled his brother up off the floor. Mumbling and holding his nose, there was a slight crunch as he set his nose back into position. At least there were no bullets this time. Sitting on the couch, he started falling asleep watching Castiel's pitiful attempt at giving the human, this time complete with a soul, Sam a hug. It was painful to watch, yet so adorable. Then he started telling Sam everything he needed to tear down the wall. The Fates seemed to hate him at the moment. For example, by breaking that wall down Sam could cause irreversible brain damage, which although Gabriel was positive he already had, would only make it worse.
Imagining a brain dead Sam but unable to muster the strength to get up, he instead politely asked one of his hounds to give Castiel a friendly bite on the keister. The way this day was going right now could only get worse. As usual, he was proved right. Not only did the hound not come, Castiel proceeded to tell the kid everything he had done sans soul. Including nearly separating Bobby's head from his body. Trying to come up with something to get this horrible scene over with, he chuckled awkwardly, "Well, this is…great. Cas, you've done a wonderful job of ruining any possibility the kid has of living sanely while simultaneously making me break one of Rafe's rules. I'd watch out for a colorful lightning bolt anytime now…" Needless to say, it didn't work. Oi vay. The smiting rule apparently didn't apply, either. Darn.
After that, it was one suck-ish turnout after another. Not only were the missing chicks, um, missing, they were also virgins. Virgins! There were so many monsters out there that go for them that it's barely worth looking up anymore. No un-pure woman was taken and there weren't any men thrown in for good measure, since monsters usually don't care much for a gender. In fact, there was only one thing other than eating that creepy crawlies used female virgins for. For such a safe choice, it sure was dangerous. Who knew waiting for the big date would kill you? Lose it while you can, or become a human sacrifice. What exactly the sacrifice was made to, Gabriel hoped to Father he was wrong. There was such a small chance that they had gotten to It that it wasn't even worth mentioning. That and the possibilities the pure girls could be used for made him shiver. An unfortunate series of events that could cause a world worse than the Apocalypse and Ke$ha's singing combined. Still, it's probably not going to happen so it was best to go on with their lives. Gabriel didn't want to ruin this slightly-better-than-evisceration scenario.
Lying on the couch with what he hoped was a spring digging into his back, the archangel listened in on future wavelengths. Smirking slightly at the sight of the endless sewers, it froze when the sight of gold glimmered in one of the corners. No…
No. It couldn't…they couldn't have…
Apparently, they could. Almost whimpering from the ever growing possibility of what he'd hoped would never happen, Gabriel groped blindly for the phone and called Dean's cell. "Bobby?"
"Listen, Dean. What you've found might just spell the end for hunters and humans everywhere. If I'm right, and for once I hope not, this could be the worst event since the Giant's War. Please, kid, I'm begging you, be careful. Because whatever came looking for me was really searching for you. There isn't much I can say until Bobby get's back to me on the research but if it' true, pray to God that my brothers agree to fight for humanity. After this, there are much, much more dangerous things that could escape…and I probably just jinxed it. Shit! Anyways, can you stop and get me something to eat on your way back? Bobby made soup and his fork is standing up in it. That isn't a good sign, Dean-o."
"…Gabriel, what the hell are yo-"
Hanging up before Dean could make his headache any worse than it already was, the archangel sighed and resisted the urge to summon something to eat from pre-Nero Rome. After glumly staring at the soup which, no kidding, had a fork standing stock still right in the middle of the bowl, he set it down gingerly and slid it across the floor. Gabriel didn't want to look at it any more than he already had. The stuff might be radioactive! Suddenly, from the kitchens, he heard the words he'd been dreading.
"Dragons? They don't exist, as far as I can figure. Why? Is there a sudden overpopulation of Dwarves?"
Okay, the first word. 'Dragons'. From the sounds of it, the 'Ye Olden and Not-So-Golden' days were making a comeback. Goody. Moaning despairingly, Gabriel fell back on the thrice-damned spring and relished the distraction from the growing agony in his head. Breathing deeply and almost in a state of meditation, he felt out for Dean and found him speaking to Bobby on the phone. Huh. Hadn't even realized the phone call twenty minutes after the first. Apparently there was, in fact, someone who could tell them how to kill a Dragon. A very old, very powerful Dragon that wouldn't be taken down with cheap mints or hell, even a regular sword. No, it had to be forged with Dragon's blood. It was official. This whole week? Sucks.
Dean did find the blade, stuck in stone like Excalibur and not kingly enough to drag it from the rock. So what did he do? C4 is the solution to life's problems, if you happen to be a hunter or miner. Too bad he screwed it up. Wincing, Gabriel thought sympathetically, She totally doesn't have insurance on that thing. Sure enough, the expression on her face was like someone had just run over a puppy with a train. Shocked, horrified and unable to look away from the mess. When Dean pulled the hilt from the pulverized stone, he was pretty sure Bobby was never going to hear from this lady caller again. EVER. It was okay though. It meant that whatever was happening could ultimately be blamed entirely on one person. No need to share the blame when one person to point at was perfectly enough.
Amazingly, they didn't completely screw up. The subway tunnels took hours to search and when they found the pile of golden trinkets that…oh, he probably could have told them where to go. That totally would have saved time. Anywho, they found two dragons and after a lot of ass kicking that wasn't at all one sided, meaning the Dragons were winning, Sammy stabbed one of them in the back while the other one ran. All in all, a happily ever after. Not. Since when did any of the Winchester's life stories have a happy ending? No, because there was more than just two Dragons. There were three. As Gabriel watched in his visions, surrounded by knuckleheads celebrating the release of around fifteen young and pure girls, one pretty little slip of a teenager was shoved into purgatory and met with open mouths. Barely hearing the words Bobby was reading from the human-hide book the boys had retrieved, he croaked out before Singer could even think it. "Mother. Mother of all. Lady of Eden and biggest witch of all time. Eve."
God. Oh, God our almighty Father, this was going to end badly.
They were all going to die.
Breathing heavily, he wailed, "LEVIATHAN!"
Soon, they would come. The mother of monsters had been freed at last and Purgatory lay open for all to see. None could escape, not yet, but soon. Soon another great war would be upon the archangels, one that this time they might not be able to win. All that they were waiting for was a host. Gabriel could feel it, the calling from ancient throats in the language of death and decay, of evil. Pure evil and insanity. Waiting…longing…hungry.
The Leviathans were awakening. And there was nothing he could do.
4, 138 words, people! When I make it up to people, I really make it up to people. You might realize that the scenes are a little out of order, but I watched the episode yesterday on the net so I can't remember it all. Plus, incorporating Gabriel in this chapter turned out to be a real bitch. To kill, or to incapacitate. That was the choice. Obviously, I didn't want to kill him again so he was laid up a bit for this one. REVIEW!
