Hey, readers! I'm at my grandma's house in London, Ontario. The bad part? No internet connection. Whoopee. No cable, either. Feels kind of like I'm living in a cave. Well, without further ado, I present…

Disclaimer: Not what I was going to present, but I don't own SPN other than the alive archangels.

Chapter Fourteen: Silent

For the next week after the dragons opened Purgatory, Gabriel did…nothing. Absolutely nothing. He didn't speak, didn't eat and Sam was pretty sure he didn't blink. Whatever a Leviathan was had scared him into becoming a complete mute. Not even chocolate had made him twitch an eye and that's when you know it's bad. There was this hopelessness about him now that nobody had ever seen, something that terrified Castiel into meditating on a blowup bed beside the couch his brother was sitting on. He never even looked at the book that Sam and Dean had found in a dug-out shelf in the sewers surrounded by candles, almost religiously placed right in the centre. Why should he? What those boys didn't know was that Gabriel had been the one to bind that book with the hide of a human child, the only thing that would hold the ancient spells. They didn't know that the girl had screamed and cried while her family cried tears of joy to be able to assist the Lord Almighty at the price of their youngest daughter.

They would never know.

For seven days and nights Gabriel sat and remembered what he had done to 'protect' humanity from becoming little more than cattle. Whimpering silently, he slowly reached out to stroke his little brother's hidden wings and sighed softly at the softness beneath his fingertips. Ignoring the startled look from Castiel, he let himself picture a tiny seven year old girl with bright green eyes and ivory skin. Yes, her name was Anamwe. Ancient tongue for Ivy. She had been very strong, not even screaming until her guts spilled all over the mossy forest floor. Stronger than he had ever been. Tightening his grip on Castiel's wings, he let the tears fall as shining stars and ignored the black roses now growing from the floor. Grace was creation, not destruction, yet a being of grace could destroy galaxies if God commanded it. The thoughts that would forever be his nightmare were interrupted by the slightest touch on his cheek. Eyes flickering to the disturbance, Gabriel realized his fledgling turned guardian was trying to dry his tears like he had done millennia ago.

Lips twitching slightly upward, he let his eyes flick to a pure and shimmering gold that banished the shadows he hadn't even realized were there. Snapping his fingers and summoning one of those massive Hershey bars, Gabriel brought the text that Bobby was still working on with a flick of his wrist. Turning to the first page and waiting until the knuckleheads were standing in the doorway to gawk at him, he read.

"To the one who finds this, just know that the evil you hold now in your hands is more powerful than many angels who live in Heaven. Made by grace and twisted by evil, creatures that are now found only in this book are never to be summoned by pain of death. These spells shall never be spoken out loud for fear of those old and powerful beings to once again rise. Again, to the one that finds this; do not say these words out loud. Read if you must and translate if you can but don't forget the loss of humanity that comes with these words. I have bound this book with the blood of God, the skin of an innocent and the flesh of an Ancient. If this spell is ever to be undone, you, whoever is reading this, must rebind it. Robert Singer, you must do this for the sake of this world. Then summon me. This language is Old Enochian, something even Castiel cannot begin to comprehend. Find me and I will undo this wrong. And your mother lied. You will not go to Hell.

Archangel Gabriel, Strength of God and His holy messenger, Slayer of Eve and Binder of the Leviathan."

Closing the book, said archangel looked them in the eyes with his golden gaze and stated, "Looks like I was wrong, huh? You won't need to summon me after all and I don't have to kill your wife to rebind the book. Just know that what has been let loose is just the beginning, not nearly as powerful as the Soul Eaters. Hell, the bitch barely managed to singe my robes! There is a story behind this but it's one that's definitely not fit for bedtime. Seriously. It's one in the morning. Go to sleep! I have things to do."

Typically, they didn't move. Bobby actually stepped forward to snatch the book from his hands, at the same time leveling a shotgun to his head. Gabriel actually smirked. The man clicked back the safety threateningly and muttered, "What do you know about that? My wife is dead already, you woulda seen that but you didn't. Something 'bout the Leviathans scares the shit outta you an' yer hiding it. Don't let me stop you from sharing with the rest of the damned class."

He's sharp, for an old man, thought Gabriel with a hint of sadness. Why did he have to see past the cutesy little lie that in no way would harm anyone? The more he looked at it, the more likely it would become less a reality and more a gory horror film. Truth was a bitch that way. To tell or not to tell, as Hamlet once said. Wait, that's wrong. He never was one for Shakespeare. Staring up at Bobby and completely ignoring the gun pointed between his eyes, Gabriel said darkly, "You have no idea what you're asking, human. What I'm hiding is older than this planet and more painful than any torture Alistair could come up with. This secret would crush you and make sure you're surrounded by pretty white walls for the rest of human existence, which wouldn't be long if I revealed it. As for not seeing your wife dying? The future is relative, always shifting and changing while branching off into completely different realities. Concentrating on one is just stupid so I look for the worst case scenarios. Hate to break it to you, Singer, but your girl dying was the lesser of all the evils."

There was pain as well as anger coating the archangel's heated words. Castiel brushed the gun aside to kneel face-to-face with his brother and staring intently into the golden depths, he slowly placed two fingers against Gabriel's forehead. When he wasn't smote or sent into some other dimension, the young angel slowly brushed his grace along the edges of the messenger's mind. He didn't try to find the secret that was being hidden since by all accounts, it would definitely kill him. Instead, Castiel went for what Gabriel had seen when the blackness attacked him. There wasn't anything to block the experience and Castiel found his brother's mind almost completely open for him to search. Bringing the memory to the forefront, his brother shivered slightly as the icy feeling of not being in control of his own memories enveloped him. Still, he was allowed to look and feel the attack through Gabriel's perspective.

Once he was finished with the memory, Castiel pushed it as far as he could into the back of the archangel's mind and sat next to him on the couch to wrap a wing around him. In return, Gabriel flashed his eyes again to show him a girl. With bright green eyes and skin like ivory who didn't scream until she was almost dead. Anamwe. Ivy. Pure and sweet and beautiful. He didn't even blink as the images flashed behind his eyes, only sighed sadly at the loss. Sam and Dean looked confused when he finally turned to them and announced, "He is telling the truth. If whatever Gabriel isn't telling us makes a space that dark on his memories it is not worth being corrupted over. Leave him be."

He didn't know whether or not to be grateful or ashamed. In the end, he settled for both. Grateful to Castiel for the minor diversion which would only last until he left for Heaven and ashamed of himself for showing that much of his true emotions. Sighing heavily, Gabriel shoved the last piece of chocolate into his mouth and promptly decided to get on with his life. So what if it only lasted another month or so? There was always a possibility that the archangels could fight together against the Leviathans and win. A very teeny-weeny little chance that the whole of humanity would survive another few centuries. Looking on the bright side only set the death date to a place further back in his mind but it helped. Anamwe was dead and gone, as were the other humans sacrificed for specific purposes that won't be spoken of since they aren't really relevant. Come to think of it, none of this is really relevant to the situation…thought Gabriel amusedly.

Huh. It's hard to be depressed, especially for someone who literally can't sit still for more than five minutes. His brothers were probably holding a timer right now and betting on how long this could go on for. Absently flicking his eyes from the dreary walls to the more exciting door leading outside, the archangel snapped his fingers and turned the house…neon purple. Then green, red, blue and yellow. All of the brightest and most interesting colors were all flashing in Bobby's living room, complete with seventy's disco music. He'd thought about turning it into a strip club then realized it would probably give the old man a heart attack, so he left the idea and turned it into…heck, he didn't really know. It was all well and good when he planned it in his head, but in real life? Tilting his head nonchalantly to the side to see from a different angle, he ignored the shouts and threats from the owner of the almost strip club and focused on getting the colors just right.

Upon hearing the trigger being pulled, he blurred his movements and instead of his skull, the bullet hit a picture frame. One of Bobby and his wife, the only one that he had kept. There was guilt now as he watched the broken glass fall and the picture turn into nothing more than a broken dream. Feeling strangely sympathetic for the quiet, gruff man who looked like he wanted nothing more than to disappear for a century, Gabriel flicked his wrist and did something so nauseatingly nice that even Castiel wouldn't have believed it. Forgetting all about the colors, he instead made it look exactly the way it had before the woman of the house met her untimely end. Light shining through the window didn't make the house more depressing by showing off the state of it and instead glittered on the pain that was no longer chipped and faded. The photograph of the Singers before Hunting became a lifestyle instead of a hobby was in one piece again, hanging beautifully on the wall in the kitchen. Hell, even the thrice-damned couch lost most of its hideousness. Not to mention the spring…

As for a finale, why not make one of the old hunter's dreams become a reality? Concentrating hard and yet again ignoring the annoying voices asking extremely stupid questions, he murmured, "I'm feeling generous today, Singer. Tell you what. If you stop trying to shoot me with that shotgun loaded with buckshot, I'll let you say goodbye to your wife like you always wanted. Knuckleheads, it might not be possible for me to drag back Mamma Winchester but the old coot might be able to make a short visit. If we're all going to die then at least we'll die in peace, right? Saewa amendaiu rictorus, dorska im opella. Cooman am arshentel mefferah. John Marvin Winchester. Seriously, Marvin? Lenore Risa Coppet-Singer."

Nothing happened. "Really? Alright, one question. Did you idiots already make peace with your family?" When they all nodded cautiously, Gabriel exploded. "Well that's just great! Try to do a good deed for once in my life and this is what I get. A peaceful reunion before I even thought to give you one. That's it, I'm summoning Dean's goldfish. Will that make you feel better?…wait. Samantha, your girl Jessica. You never said goodbye to her and she's the reason you're still hunting. She still haunting you, huh kiddo?" Sam didn't answer, so he knew he'd hit a sore spot. "Look, Sam. I'm sorry she died and under normal circumstances I could bring her back but, well, it's been to long and her spirit won't reconnect with her body. I might be able to summon her, though. Wanna give it a shot?"

As it turns out, Sam did want to see his almost wife again. After a couple of years and hundreds of hunts he still hadn't forgotten her. It was sweet, in a masochistic kind of way. This ritual would be different from the one he had tried earlier in the small matter of giving Jessica corporeal form, which involved a small amount of blood that unfortunately would have to be his. Yay. Taking a deep breath as the knuckleheads lit candles in a pentagram, Gabriel giggled, "Listen to what I say so you can do this one day. Hey, that rhymed! Okay, here goes. Amon repentei tronfer, erean vistidi y'elysia harinier tartaruse. Okay, ah, Jessica Louise Greer."

At once, a swirling mist began circling the room. As soon as Gabriel slit his wrist it started taking form into a blond-haired, blue-eyed beauty that seemed more Dean's type than Sam's. The wound closed up quickly as the youngest Winchester fell to his knees in front of the apparition with tears in his eyes. Stuttering, he started, "J-Jess? I'm sorry. So, so sorry that you were-"

The idiot's rambling was cut off by the sweet Jessica's lips brushing against his in a way that wasn't in any universe rated T. Mildly disgusted and slightly amazed at how long they'd been lip-locked, Gabriel summoned a stop watch and made it to two whole minutes before the temporarily reunited couple separated themselves. He was kind of starting to regret making her a semi solid form now with all of the touching and feeling. Clapping sarcastically, he was silenced by the icy glare that reminded him so much of Michael he actually checked to make sure his ass wasn't on fire. With one last sweet kiss, she breathed, "I forgive you, baby. I always have and always will. Now go kill some demons for me."

Then she was gone, finally at peace now that Gabriel had dragged her from where Azazel had put her.

Ignoring the Winchester brothers having a quiet heart-to-heart on the matter of love, the archangel turned to Castiel and drawled, "You know, it was sort of like watching a really bad porno. The kissing was sloppy, she's dead and Sam cheated on her so many times now it isn't worth mentioning."

And so ended Castiel's week of silence. God, he would miss it.

Like it? Just thought I'd put something in here to show just how much that fight hurt the angels and also, the language is made up. I'll put the translations underneath this note. Anyways, I didn't like the way that Sam never said goodbye to Jess and since he doesn't remember his mom, Jess is the reason he's still hunting. Her and Dean. Sooooo, bye for now, readers!

Saewa amendaiu rictorus, dorska im opella. Cooman am arshentel mefferah - souls of the dark, damned and oppressed, come to the archangel messenger.

Amon repentei tronfer, erean vistidi y'asphodel harinier tartaruse - one who repents, beautiful is elysia from Tartarus. Basically, Azazel put her in Tartarus and Gabriel dragged her up to put her in Elysia.