Episode 3: Will the Real Loki Please Stand Up

Gabriel scratched a fingernail at the flaking interior of the car Castiel had stolen so they could make their way back to the Men of Letters bunker in Lebanon. After their failure to get help from the reapers, they were on their own to find a way into Heaven, or a way to open a doorway back to their universe. And the Men of Letters bunker seemed as good a place as any to research something that could help them. Or, at the very least, it was a secluded place to hide out since this world was apparently very hostile to angels.

But they still had a few hours to go.

Castiel pulled off the highway and into a remote gas station, and Gabriel glanced over at the dash to see the gauge for the tank was almost empty.

Cas parked alongside one of the pump stations and turned off the engine. "I hope my credit card works in this universe," he commented before climbing out.

Gabriel lifted his brows and quickly exited after him. "If it does, get me a slurpee. Cherry flavor."

Castiel shot him a dark glower before marching into the gas station mini mart. Gabriel pursed his lips. That seemed like a no… Guess he'd have to get one himself.

He jogged to catch up. The glass door had just swung shut behind Castiel, and Gabriel reached for the handle to yank it open. There was a jangle of chimes, but instead of stepping into a tiny gas station, Gabriel suddenly found himself standing on a dirt road in front of what looked like a town from the Old West. Tumbleweeds strolled lazily across the road, and there was a dry breeze on the air.

Castiel, standing a couple of feet in front of him, whirled around. "I'm in no mood for your games, Gabriel," he growled.

Gabriel raised his palms. "This isn't me."

He glanced over his shoulder, but the door they'd come through was gone. His mouth turned down. They'd walked into a pocket dimension, that much he could tell, but a gas station was a weird place to have one. Although, this whole world was plum crazy, so how could they measure weird here?

"Maybe we have to pay the toll," he mused.

Castiel's jaw ticked as he narrowed his eyes at the town. "I don't like this."

Gabriel shrugged and started forward. "We could stand here all day or take a look around."

Castiel hesitated only a moment before following. They walked down the middle of the main street, keeping their eyes peeled on the surrounding buildings and alleyways. The place looked like a ghost town, no sign of anyone anywhere.

Until the door to the saloon creaked and swung open, a figure stepping out. He walked with head down, black cowboy hat concealing his face. His entire get-up was all black, and Gabriel would have cracked a joke about cliches, but the short figure planted himself in the middle of the road ahead of them and raised his head. And Gabriel found himself looking at a spitting image of himself.

"Oh."

"Gabriel?" Castiel questioned guardedly.

Loki—the real Loki—narrowed his gaze at them. "You don't belong in this town," he drawled with a put upon accent.

"Heh, funny you should say that because…" Gabriel started, but didn't get a chance to finish.

Loki was quick on the draw that Gabriel hadn't been expecting, and a sharp report cracked the air a split second before fire exploded in Gabriel's shoulder. He staggered back a step, eyes dropping to the hole now in his shirt. The bullet was just a piece of lead, and yet it hurt.

He stumbled, and then Castiel was grabbing his arms and dragging him down a side alley. Loki didn't give chase, but then, they were in his pocket dimension; where were they gonna go he couldn't find them?

Nevertheless, Castiel ducked into a stable and helped Gabriel over to a pile of hay he could sit down against. The seraph crouched down next to him, holding a hand over the wound in his shoulder. Warm golden light began to suffuse from his palm, but it quickly started sputtering.

Castiel furled his hand into a fist. "I can't heal you," he said, sounding frustrated.

Gabriel shifted, wincing as it tugged at his wound. "You can't heal an archangel," he pointed out.

Castiel's mouth pressed into a tight line, and with a stubborn look of defiance, held his hand out again. Gabriel almost rolled his eyes, until a sharp pain rocketed through him and he sucked in a harsh gasp. The bullet turned slowly, worming its way back out.

Castiel rotated his wrist, and a cry tore from Gabriel's throat as the mangled bit of lead popped out to drop on the ground. "You should be able to heal yourself now," he said.

Gabriel gritted his teeth against the lingering pain. He wanted to make a scathing remark about it, but the truth was it would have been harder for him to heal if the bullet remained stuck in his vessel. Cas's bedside manner could use some improvement, but his method had been effective.

The younger angel moved back toward the door, casting guarded looks outside. "Who was that?" he asked. "That wasn't the Gabriel of this world."

"No," Gabriel grunted. "That was the real Loki."

Castiel flicked a questioning look at him. "Who happens to have the same vessel?"

Gabriel pushed himself to sit up straighter. "Not exactly. In our world, Loki and I had an arrangement. We both wanted a witness protection of sorts. So we crafted a vessel with his visage for me, and I took on his identity so he could go off to live a quiet life undisturbed." He huffed. "Seems that didn't happen here."

"He did seem angry you were masquerading as him," Castiel remarked.

"I'm not masquerading as him!"

Castiel lolled a dry look his way.

Gabriel waved a hand dismissively. "The temple thing was just me trying to get a feel for this world."

"Right. Well, you're a master of pocket dimensions; how do we get out of here?"

Gabriel gave his shoulder a tentative roll. It twinged, but was starting to heal, albeit much more slowly than normal. He pushed himself to his feet. "We have to find the door. Most likely it's somewhere along the edge of this little construct. We should head out of town."

Castiel flicked a quick once-over at him. "Are you good to go?"

"Good enough," he replied. He didn't mention how his nerves were taut over the fact Loki hadn't come after them yet. What was his game? Gabriel may have played the original Trickster once upon a time, but he couldn't begin to guess what this one was up to.

Castiel led the way down the alley to the back of the stable, then into the countryside. Since he was keeping a guarded lookout, Gabriel focused his energies on trying to sense the edge of the pocket dimension. He knew what to look for—slight distortions in the wavelengths and frequencies of the surrounding environment where time and space had been warped and manipulated.

The only problem was, this Wild West setting looked like it went on for acres, and with the increase in the pagan deities' power in this universe, Gabriel had to wonder just how much trouble Loki might have gone to making this.

A shout rose up in the distance, and they turned back toward the town to see a group of men mounting a bunch of horses that hadn't been there moments before. When the posse set their course toward them, Gabriel couldn't hold back a groan.

"Um, Cas, we should run."

They had a head start, yet this posse had a very capricious Trickster who lent speed to their steeds, and it wasn't long before Gabriel and Castiel were caught. Castiel tried to fight back, of course, but angel strength seemed to have been nullified in this pocket dimension, because they were both swiftly apprehended by these conjured puppets and ropes lashed around their wrists. Gabriel grunted as his arm was yanked backward harshly, pulling at his still wounded shoulder.

When the ropes were slung around their necks, he stiffened. The rules in this little dimension seemed to have been bent so that angels could suffer injury almost parallel to mortals, so he was not keen on going through a hanging.

"Loki, come on!" Gabriel shouted with a desperate chuckle. "There's no need for this! We were best buds in an alternate universe. We had a doppelgänger thing going on that was your idea! I swear I'm not trying to upstage you."

The posse suddenly froze as though the pause button on this little play had been hit. Even one of the ropes was hanging midair where it'd been tossed up and over a tree branch. Gabriel and Castiel tried to tug themselves free, but they were held firmly in the now granite grips of the frozen characters.

Loki appeared out of thin air, still wearing the black cowboy outfit. "Explain yourself," he said.

"We're from an alternate world. One where neither the pagans or Heaven is the top dog. I left Heaven over a millennia ago, faked my death. You were fed up with the drama of the Pantheon and offered to let me take your place as Loki. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement."

Loki narrowed his eyes skeptically.

"There was a mishap with a pocket dimension and an outside burst of power," Gabriel went on. "A nephilim's, actually. Somehow it opened a rift between worlds and we got sent here. Seriously, we're just trying to get home. I have no plans to usurp you here."

Loki's gaze bored into him for several long moments. Then he raised a hand and snapped his fingers. Gabriel jerked as the hands and ropes restraining him suddenly vanished, the posse having disappeared. But so had Castiel.

Gabriel craned his neck around before whirling back to Loki in alarm.

The Trickster's eyes were like dark storm clouds. "I think your story is too wild to be a lie," he said. "And just like in your world, there's only room for one of us. And I have no intention of stepping aside." He paused. "So I will send you back."

Gabriel's brows rose sharply. "Really?"

"Yes, if you want."

"Hells yeah!" Gabriel broke into a wide grin, but then hesitated, eyes narrowing. "What's the catch?"

Loki smirked, and snapped his fingers again. Gabriel felt a ripple on the air, and turned to find that there were now railroad tracks laid out across the plain—with Cas strapped down across them. A train horn sounded in the distance.

Gabriel spun back around. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

Loki's mouth curved upward mischievously. "I don't have the power to break through universes. But you said a pocket dimension plus a nephilim's—a half angel's—power brought you here." He raised one hand, palm up. "I have the pocket dimension." He lifted the other. "And the power from an angel sacrifice should be enough to recreate the circumstances that brought you here."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa…" Gabriel held up his hands. "That's not the deal."

"It's your only way home," Loki countered, gaze sharpening with warning. "It's not like you angels have any real loyalty to each other. You're an archangel, correct? That one's a foot soldier. A dime a dozen. So, if you're serious that you're not here to challenge my rule, then take my offer. Otherwise…" He canted his head. "You can both die here."

Gabriel's jaw tightened. "I am not going to let you sacrifice my brother."

The air crackled with menace, and Loki shifted into an aggressive stance. "Fine. I'll enjoy the power boost I get from the blood of an archangel, too." He moved his arm out to the side, fingers twitching mere inches from his gun holster.

"Hold your horses, bucko." Gabriel gestured to himself. "The Loki I know valued period consistency. I'm not dressed for a duel."

Loki squinted at him suspiciously.

Gabriel shot him an expectant look. The train horn blared again, sounding closer, though there was none visible on the tracks in the distance yet. Gabriel gritted his teeth, trying not to let his growing anxiety show.

Loki finally smirked, and with a snap of his fingers, Gabriel's attire had changed to plain brown trousers and shirt, and a Hoss style bowl hat atop his head. He swallowed back a huff of irritation. At least he had the customary gun holster and pistol.

"You're a cocky little cockroach, aren't you?" Loki remarked. "Like all angels."

Gabriel clenched his fists, but quickly loosened them to be ready for the draw. He and Loki stared at each other, eyes narrowing, facial muscles ticking in anticipation. Then Loki went for his gun with the reflexes of a cobra. Gabriel whipped his out as well. The two shots echoed over each other, rattling Gabriel's eardrums. Loki's bullet scored across his arm, but was luckily just a graze. Gabriel's shot hit dead center.

Loki stumbled back a step, looking surprised. He started to scoff at the shot, probably because he was the only one in this pocket dimension who was impervious to a simple lead bullet, and that's what he'd expected Gabriel to fight with.

But while Loki had acquiesced to decking Gabriel out in the appropriate attire, the devious archangel had used some of his limited grace to swap out the bullets for something a little more grainy.

Loki suddenly went rigid, eyes blowing wide, and he shot a startled gaze down at his chest where the bullet hole was oozing dark blood. "H-how…?"

Gabriel just gazed at him darkly. "You taught me all your tricks."

Loki dropped to his knees, then toppled sideways, eyes going vacant as his last breath left him.

Gabriel pivoted sharply and sprinted toward the tracks. The train was now visible careening directly toward them. He scrambled onto the ground and started yanking at the ropes, but Castiel was completely wrapped up in a cocoon of them like a damsel from a cheesy movie, various ends knotted tightly to the spokes of the tracks. The seraph's cheeks were already red from all the energy he'd been exerting trying to struggle free.

"Gabriel…" he grunted.

The train horn blared louder, the steam engine hissing its fast approach. They already knew they could be hurt in this pocket dimension. Gabriel didn't know if they could be killed, but he most definitely didn't want to risk his little brother getting shredded to pieces, because he was fairly certain they wouldn't be easily put back together.

He jumped to his feet and shot a palm out toward the train, mustering every ounce of grace he had access to. Power exploded outward in a shockwave that burst toward the train, blasting it away with a flash of light and resounding boom. The air itself shook and the walls of the pocket dimension shattered into a shower of broken shards.

Gabriel doubled over, putting his hands on his knees to catch his breath. They were in a field, but several yards away was the gas station they'd stopped at. He glanced down at Castiel, now no longer tied to a set of railroad tracks.

Though winded, Gabriel reached a hand down to help him up.

Castiel's eyes narrowed. "You're injured again."

Gabriel shifted his arm around to inspect the graze that was bleeding sluggishly. He shrugged, his shoulder still twinging. "I'll live."

Castiel's mouth turned down. "Why did you reject Loki's offer?"

"You expected me to let him kill you?"

Castiel looked away, and Gabriel felt another twinge in his heart that had nothing to do with bullet wounds, yet somehow hurt just as much.

"Hey, I may have been a neglectful brother, but I never wanted any of my siblings dead. And we're in this together. So we go together, or not at all."

Castiel flashed him a slightly skeptical look, but then nodded. Without another word, he turned and started heading back to the gas station. Gabriel followed. He felt a zing of apprehension when they entered the mini mart again, but this time they weren't transported somewhere else, and the gas station attendant barely looked up from a magazine at them, not even at Gabriel's cowboy get-up, which he realized he was still wearing. He ditched the hat on one of the shelves and turned his senses inward to evaluate whether his grace was recovered enough for him to change outfits.

Mm, maybe not yet.

Castiel walked up to the cashier and deposited an armful of first aid supplies on the counter, which surprised Gabriel. But he was even more flummoxed when Castiel added a red colored slurpee to the goods, too.

Gabriel watched the attendant ring the items up, and then add a tank of gas. He waited to see if Castiel's credit card would be denied, but it appeared to go through without a problem. Finally a bit of good luck.

When Castiel gathered the items up and turned toward the door, Gabriel arched an eyebrow at him. Castiel wordlessly passed him the slurpee and walked past him, heading back out to the car to fill up the tank.

Gabriel took a sip of the sweet, icy goodness. Ooh, brain freeze. His grace was definitely still frazzled if he was feeling that.

Castiel hooked the nozzle into the gas valve and set it to automatically pump, then gestured at Gabriel to come around to the trunk. "Let me bandage your wounds."

"They're not a big deal."

"Still."

Gabriel could see he was serious, so instead of putting up a petulant protest like he'd been thinking, he silently went over and endured Castiel cleaning the bullet graze and taping a gauze pad over it.

"How's your shoulder?"

"It's sore, but the hole sealed up," Gabriel replied honestly.

Castiel nodded, and started packing up the supplies, which he tossed into the backseat before going back to the pump and putting the nozzle back.

"Thanks," Gabriel said abruptly. When Castiel quirked a look at him, he raised the slurpee. "And for…" He gestured vaguely at his bandaged his arm.

Castiel's expression softened, and there was maybe a hint of a hint of a smile on his lips. He tightened the gas cap and closed the panel.

"We're in this together."

Gabriel's mouth twitched. Out of all the angels, he couldn't imagine a better partner in crime than Castiel, even if he'd never admitted it out loud.

Now they just had to actually survive this world and find a way home.