The sky bloomed in an array of soft autumnal colours like a bouquet of marigolds, casting a subdued haze over the scrapyard as creatures of the day settled down for a night's rest. Sunset, as any angel who has observed the Earth as long as Gabriel will tell you, exists in a temporary suspension of reality. The frenzied activity of day dies down but before the more sinister realms of darkness takes over, there is a small window of time that simply exists in the middle. Sunset is a paradise for the in-between and, incidentally, Gabriel's favourite time of day.
He knocked on Bobby's door with apprehension, wincing at the loud noise. He was an archangel, one of the most powerful beings in existence, he'd seen civilisations rise and fall and he was not nervous. Angels got sweaty palms and dry mouths all the time. Gabriel could distinguish muffled voices forming a half-hearted argument.
"Who the hell is calling?" Bobby grumbled.
"Maybe it's your girlfriend here to arrest you?" Dean's smart mouth was going to place him on the receiving end of Bobby's shotgun one day, Gabriel mused to himself.
"Bite me, smartass."
"Gross, I'll pass. You'd be like tough old leather." A chain of thuds and a small exclamation of pain followed this comment. Then, a third set of footsteps began to grow louder as someone approached the door.
"Oh, don't mind me, I'll just answer it then shall I?" The door swung open to reveal a very dishevelled-looking Sam, his usually immaculate hair mussed past the point of fashionable, dressed in tattered jeans and fading flannel. His under-eye circles had darkened since Gabriel last saw him, if he kept this up he was going to resemble a panda before long. At this point, it looked like Sam went ten rounds with Rocky Balboa, provided he only aimed for the eyes.
"And look what's behind door number 3!" Gabriel mocked, throwing in some jazz hands for good measure.
"Oh...uhhhhh." Sam ran his fingers through his hair, only succeeding in messing it further.
"Good to see you're as eloquent as always. So...am I late? Am I early? You could have at least dressed for the occasion." Before Sam could reply, Dean and Bobby joined the scene.
"What the fuck are you doing- wait are those leather pants?" Gabriel slapped his leather-clad thigh with a grin.
"You betcha. Good to see you Dean-o, I'm here to take your brother for a super fun night out!" The three hunters regarded him, completely dumbstruck. Seriously, he did make a deal and he expected to keep it, they could at least act a little less shocked. Finally, Bobby spoke.
"Like hell, you've tried to kill him. There are God knows how many demons and angels out there jonesing for him so how do we know you're not just gonna sell him to the highest bidder."
"Oh gee Bobby thanks for the vote of confidence. What if I pinky swear not to pimp him to Raphael?" This comment unsurprisingly earned him 3 steely glares. "C'mon guys! What about all the great stuff I've done for you?" He fixed Dean with a pointed stare, one that clearly said 'like shoving your brother's soul back where it belongs which, for some reason, you won't tell him'. Well at least he hoped Dean understood, the man had his dense moments.
"Alright, I'll go with you." Sam said, stepping out from behind the other two men to join Gabriel.
"Well I did promise; I go out with you and the pranking stops right?"
"Please, Sam, we barely know each other. I'm just offering a night out." Gabriel teased with a wink, knowing he was pushing his luck beyond belief. Sam's brow lowered as his features arranged into something that could only ever be described as a 'bitch face'. "Yeah, alright, I promise. Cross my heart and hope to be smote into oblivion."
"Can we at least know where you're going?" Dean asked, not taking his worried eyes off Sam.
"That would ruin the surprise. I promise he'll be back, safe and sound, by tomorrow morning." Damn, he was making so many promises lately it was beginning to make his palms sweat. He offered a hand to Sam who regarded it with suspicion.
"Flying's gonna be a hell of a lot easier if you hold hands with me." Gabriel stated matter-of-factly, delighting in the slight pink tinge that coloured Sam's cheeks.
"Oh, of course." Sam interlaced his fingers with Gabriel's, his palm abnormally warm against his own. With a deep breath, Gabriel flexed his aching wings and whisked them away.
The first thing that greeted Sam as his feet hit solid ground was a concoction of overwhelming scents, drifting from all directions; something sugary and sweet immediately to his left, mingling with the distinctive smell of onions and meat that accompanies fast food trucks. Giggles and shouts rushed past him as crowds moved and thronged, failing to notice the sudden appearance of two men, so wrapped up in their own excitement. Bright lights, a heavy bassline thumping in his chest and squeals of delight from every direction, of course they would be in a fairground. It took Sam a moment to realise that the faint pressure on his hand had vanished. He whirled around, scanning the flow of people for his companion but he was nowhere to be seen. Sam pushed through the crowd, careful of the children darting between people's legs, until he spotted Gabriel leaning against the cotton candy stall, looking remarkably unobtrusive. To any passer-by, he could be any normal man taking a rest after being too adventurous with the vomit-inducing rides.
"You alright?" The obvious answer is 'no' and, as Gabriel looked up at the sound of his voice, Sam felt stupid for even asking. His eyes were at once heavy and hollow, clouded by red rings that drained the colour and life from his face. Sam didn't know that angels could cry, never knew that they had the capacity, but he could've sworn that, just for a second, he glimpsed a solitary drop roll down Gabriel's cheek. Gabriel quickly wiped to sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and fixed an ugly false smile onto his face.
"Yep, I'm peachy. Just a little...flight inconvenience." Despite himself, Sam snorted.
"Dude, that's the least convincing 'I'm fine' I've ever heard and I've lived with Dean all my life."
"Honestly, I'm good. I just need...a minute." His breath came in stuttered bursts, his chest heaving as if he'd ran a marathon. If Gabriel kept talking, Sam had a feeling he was going to pass out. There was an unoccupied bench just in front of the carousel, mere yards away.
"Put your arm around me." Sam ordered, looping his own around Gabriel's back. The angel started, pulling himself away reflexively. "Sorry...I don't want to make you uncomfortable but you're probably gonna faint soon and what the hell can I do in a random fairground with an unconscious angel?" After a moment of consideration, Gabriel nodded and pushed himself to his feet, leaning against Sam for support. His head lolled against Sam's chest, heat radiating from every contact point like a hearth. Sam used his free hand to gently push his way through the thinning crowd, focusing intently on keeping the angel vertical despite how heavy he was becoming. At last, Sam manoeuvred him onto the bench. His breathing was beginning to even out as he stared, unfocused, at the darkening sky.
"You nearly passing out has really put a downer on my night out." Sam teased, settling next to him. The carousel whirled and shone in a spectrum of rich colours, gold and reds dancing in front of Sam's eyes to the soundtrack of laughter. He could see why Gabriel brought him here, there was something very relaxing about being surrounded by movement. A faint smile was gathering around the corners of Gabriel's mouth as he watched the golden horses spin, his eyes reflecting the colour in a feeble imitation of their former spark. Sam dug around his pockets, turning up five crumpled dollar bills. Gabriel barely noticed as Sam moved, only returning to focus as he pushed cotton candy under his nose.
"You know angels don't eat right" He asked, still accepting the candy. Sam shrugged.
"You do, like all the time. Anything with over 50% sugar." He commented, taking a bite of his own. He wrinkled his nose in distaste as what can only be described as pure sugar, thick and stodgy, lodged itself in his throat
"Oh yeah, you're one of those disgusting herbivores right?" Gabriel accused, having already demolished half of his cotton candy.
"Sugar cane is a plant. And I eat lots of meat dumbass." This statement lingered between them for a while, waiting for one of them to realise the potentiality for mocking. Gabriel snorted, inhaling some of his candy as he laughed.
"Oh I'll bet." Rolling his eyes, Sam wordlessly handed his stick of candy to Gabriel to finish.
"What are you, five?"
"I'm young at heart, Sammy-boy, I'm young at heart."
It turns out that Gabriel is very much young at heart, Sam considered as a much shorter and stronger man pulled him around the bustling fairground. After a few minutes sit down, Gabriel had apparently regained sufficient vigour to try out every game stall offered with the enthusiasm of an overly-excited child. It took 4 different stalls until Gabriel won at something (he would later say that all of the others were clearly fixed) but he could throw coconuts like a man possessed, winning a stuffed purple dinosaur that was far too big to possibly carry around discreetly. So, naturally, Sam ended up with an armful of purple acrylic and stuffing.
"You need to name him." Gabriel commented for about the twelfth time.
"I've said, Barney." He made a noise of disgust.
"Dude you can't call him that. That's the single most unoriginal name I've ever heard."
"Well do you have a better suggestion?" Gabriel considered for a moment.
"Raymundo. That's a cool name for a cool dinosaur." And despite the monsters and the nightmares and lies that had shaped Sam's life since he got back topside, he bowed his head and smiled.
"So, how's the skin mag?" Dean asked, settling across from where Bobby perused their recent acquisition. The pages crisped as he turned them and Dean struggled to keep the revulsion off his face.
"You kill things for a living and you're disgusted by a bit of old skin?"
"Little bit, yeah. What language is that?" Bobby's face grew more annoyed with every page turned.
"Could be Klingon for all the sense it's making. Some obscure Latin dialect, all I can gather is 'monsters'." Just what they needed, something untranslatable. Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, sighed deeply, and tried not to think of the immediate danger his brother could be in at the hands of a lunatic. Christ, he needed a beer.
"Anything more specific?" He pressed, ignoring the glare Bobby sent his way.
"Well I think I'm clear on this first bit. Think of a place that's like the ass-end of all your worst nightmares. Blood and bone and darkness, filled with the souls of all the things you hunt." At this point, the only way one could explain Dean's thought process is through heavy description of white noise, occasionally interspersed with loud groans.
"Fan-fricking-tastic. This wouldn't happen to be Purgatory would it?" Bobby closed the book with care and laid it on the desk.
"Bingo. That right there, perfect instruction manual to open a door."
"Well we've found Crowley's birthday present."
"He wouldn't have had much use for it. That ain't talking about going for a vacation. That's about opening a door to let something in." A shiver ran down Dean's spine, his toes curling in revulsion.
"I probably don't want to hear the answer but do you have any idea what?"
"Well I've got a name: mother." Sighing deeply, Dean dropped his head into his hands. This was it, he was officially retiring. Fuck demons, fuck monsters, fuck mothers; as soon as Sam was back from his playdate, they were going to Europe. All the freaky shit seemed to happen in America anyway. That's probably his fault, his conscience chimed in, trouble follows you around like a bad smell. Of course, he articulated his discomfort with nothing more than a large, drawn-out groan, which earned him an irritated look from Bobby.
"That's just...great. Fan-fucking-tastic." He shuffled to the fridge in the hope that Gabriel had left some alcohol unsweetened. "So we dig up anything the lore has on mother monsters?" He suggested, tossing a beer Bobby's way. Just as he settled into the couch, Cas managed to scare the shit out of him by appearing barely 3 inches away.
"Hello Dean." His voice, thank all that is holy, had returned to its usual gravelly register.
"Hey Cas, how's heaven?" Cas blinked, tilting his head as if he did not understand the question.
"At war. Factions are tearing each other apart. Hundreds could die and it seems the only way to stop bloodshed is through further bloodshed."
"That's rough." Dean replied, at a loss for anything more meaningful to say. Instead, he offered Cas his beer. He declined but his entire posture softened and he relaxed into the couch with a heavy sigh.
"It's difficult Dean. Have you ever felt like you're wading through blood and death, but that turning back would be as futile as carrying on?" Dean was sure he was supposed to chuckle, brush it off, or agree light-heartedly. But Cas' eyes were far too weary, his breaths were far too deep, and his posture was far too strained. "Balthazar has agreed to donate some weapons to our cause but I can't accept knowing exactly how much devastation they will bring. There has to be a cleaner way."
"I don't think it's that simple, Cas. I had to let my own brother dive into hell to clean up a mess we should never have been involved in. But that said, is there anything Sam and I can do? I mean, we can't exactly fight an army of angels but if we could find something that might help?" Cas' eyes crinkled in a weak, tired smile.
"I can't ask you or your brother to get involved. You've already done so much and you deserve rest. Dean snorted.
"Tell the world that. Speaking of which, you know anything about mother monsters?" There was no glimmer of recognition in Cas' features. Well, it was worth a shot.
"No, should I?"
"I don't think so but I think we're going to learn more real soon." Cas continued to frown in confusion, so Dean elaborated. "Bobby reckons we're getting a visit from someone from purgatory. " The effect was instantaneous. Cas stiffened, his expression unreadable. "Tell me about it, we can't catch a break." Dean teased. After an uncomfortable moment of silence, Cas chuckled a dull humourless sound, far too late to be sincere. He stood up very suddenly, almost brushing his coat against Dean's face in his haste.
"I'm needed in heaven." Dean caught his elbow, turning Cas to face him as he got to his feet.
"Be careful out there, alright?" He said softly, noticing too late just how close his movement had brought them. Cas' lips parted in surprise but neither of them stepped back.
"Of course, Dean." He made to turn away but Dean spoke.
"Wait, Cas." Blue eyes regarded him expectantly. "Not that it's not nice to see you every once in a while but why did you drop in?"
"I...don't know." And with that, he was gone.
Most of the children at the fair had left, leaving only clusters of either very childish or very drunk adults and a couple of kids that were seriously pushing their curfew to frolic beneath the cloudless night sky, speckled with the vibrant lights of an aged Ferris Wheel. Sam had outright refused to set foot on that 'creaking deathtrap', no matter how much Gabriel had pleaded, so after an interesting experience in the hall of mirrors that left a couple of 12 year old bullies with a lifelong fear of marshmallows, they were left to wander the grounds at a slow pace, watching people rush by at the height of frenzied excitement. The grounds were at once peaceful and turbulent. Peaceful almost to the point of serenity, where visions of pain and gore were little more than distant childhood nightmares in the recesses of his mind; forgotten but not quite gone. But, in Sam's life, he'd learned that even the smallest moments of peace rarely came without a price tag.
"I still don't understand why you're doing this." Sam commented as they walked, attempting to gauge a reaction from the shorter man.
"C'mon Sam, we're both in need of a break. Can't you just accept we're having fun and stop worrying for once?" Oh well when he put it like that, Sam couldn't help but worry more.
"It's just...you were all onboard the apocalypse train last I checked and you were pretty set on throwing us on the tracks too." Gabriel opened his mouth as if to protest but Sam continued. "Before you say it, yes I remember you fought Lucifer for a bunch of Gods. Not for Earth, definitely not for us. So why the sudden bromance?" Empty ambient noise seemed to fade into muted, muffled vibrations. Isn't it strange how silence does not always occur in the complete absence of sound? Somtimes the most deafening silences fall despite the laughter of children and the melody of semi-familar music. Sometimes, silence is at its loudest when we're waiting for someone to speak. Gabriel stopped walking forward and wordlessly pulled Sam aside into a small alcove between the back of a corndog stall and, as they had discovered earlier, a pretty feeble attempt at a haunted house.
"Look, I honestly did want the apocalypse to go ahead. It's selfish and conceited but at the time it's the only way out I saw. I didn't particularly give a crap about the great destiny bull the other Angels were spouting but I thought 'hey, at least they won't fight anymore right?'. And I guess I didn't care if two humans were sacrificed along the way, hell, I was prepared for the whole planet to roast. I was such an ass because I just couldn't see why you two wouldn't play your damn roles for the greater good." He failed to meet Sam's eyes for even a second through his mumbled confession, staring at the muddy ground in what Sam dared to believe was genuine shame. Ugly, hot rage bubbled in Sam's chest, directing waves of hatred towards the repentant angel in the absence of anything else to blame. Pain can kill reason just as readily as anger and that moment, it didn't matter to Sam that Gabriel was sorry or that he had no direct hand in shaping his miserable life. The elastic boundaries of Sam's caged emotions snapped and recoiled, leaving raw anguish to spill freely fro his wounded soul.
"I don't give a damn about the greater good, I was a kid! I deserved a normal life! If this good was so great then why didn't you do it?" Passers-by were beginning to stare, likely perceiving a bickering couple, but Sam just couldn't stop the tidal wave of hurt that he'd finally released. "Why did you have to manipulate a child until he was so warped and neck-deep in blood and misery that he had no choice but to do whatever the hell would give him some sense of self worth? You could have just waited until I could make my own choice, if it really was for the greater good then I would have helped in a heartbeat!" His rush of fury faded almost soon as it was released. Gabriel gave no protest, no sign of even wanting to interrupt, he simply looked into Sam's eyes and let his pent-up frustration wash over him like a scolded child. "Look, I'm sorry. I just..." He dragged his rough palm over his face and didn't finish his sentence. Tension flowed out of his muscles as he breathed. Deflated somewhat, Sam attempted to pat Gabriel's arms apologetically but the contact was stiff and awkward, failing to make either of them feel remotely more comfortable.
"I really am sorry." said Gabriel, his voice quiet and earnest. "We had no right to use you as pawns in our family feud."
"No, I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have shouted." Gabriel nodded over to a nearby bench.
"Sit your ass down Winchester, what's up?" Sam took a seat.
"You mean aside from all the?" He asked, gesturing vaguely to his head. "Dean lied to me. I know I shouldn't be shocked by this point, that's not my main concern." Sam paused, struggling to say the truth aloud, as though admitting it would make it unavoidably real. "I've been out of hell for almost a year, soulless."
"I know." This didn't surprise him.
"Then you know I was a monster, I've hurt people. Cas told me everything he knew but what else happened that I don't know about? That I can't remember until my mind damn breaks?" His mind itched like a newly-healed scab, not painful as such but present nonetheless. And, as with any healing wound, Sam had a masochistic urge to rip it open.
"Sam, that wasn't you." He'd been expecting this feeble reassurance. It was undoubtedly the same once he'd receive from Dean and Bobby and anyone else he'd open up to but he simply couldn't bring himself to believe it.
"No, it was. That's the worst thing. My mind, my decisions. I wasn't possessed, I knew exactly what I was doing." Sam had long given up on trying to understand an angel's emotions but at that moment, he could have sworn that Gabriel looked downright miserable.
"That was who you could be, not who you are. That makes all the difference. Everyone has the potential for darkness, you more than most. It doesn't make you a monster." Gabriel regarded him, his voice soothing and full of age and kindness, worlds away from the mischievous being he presented himself as.
"I don't know Gabe." If Gabriel noticed the nickname, he didn't show any sign. "After what I've done? Some people could say I've already realised that potential." His memory stirred, bringing up harsh words and accusations. "Some already have."
"You see that? That guilt and suffering? That's all human. Fact is, tin man, that you're ruled by your soul more than you think. It's wounded and scarred but it's still so full of good that once it's in your body, that 'monster' you saw is gone. You see, all monsters wish to be more human. But I'm afraid they don't know how." They sat in companionable silence, watching the sun peek shyly from behind a distant horizon, Sam mulling over Gabriel's reassuring words. He thought back to the trickster they'd first met, so unrepentant for the death and misery he caused, and to the fun-loving angel so keen to distance himself from his colder kin, an angel that could only be described as human.
"Do you?" He asked, inwardly scolding himself for almost calling Gabriel a monster.
"Yes, I do. I'm not sorry for the people I killed, they deserved it. I don't just kill dicks, Sam. That silver fox professor? Sometimes, college girls weren't enough. Sometimes, he liked to pay visits to nearby high schools. Not all monsters have claws and fangs. That's just the nature of angels, we smite sinners and as much as I like to think I'm not one of them, I can't help my own nature." Strange as it was to see him sombre, Sam couldn't help but appreciate the bitter-sweet swell of emotion he felt towards him. Having someone truly understand your pain if a rare and beautiful thing, rarer still in Sam's line of experience. Try as he might to understand, Dean never could. He'd spent his life sure of his direction, hailed as a saviour and righteous man, never once seen to be an abomination. Rebelling against a family that didn't understand what it meant to be different, well, that was something Gabriel and Sam knew.
"Well you're still the same trickster that tried to stop me worrying about my brother's death by killing him." Sam offered, humour creeping into his tone.
"Hey, the logic was there! Not my fault it was like teaching astrophysics to a mole rat. I couldn't say no to those puppy dog eyes!" Gabriel countered, his voice light and teasing.
"I don't have-" Sam started indignantly.
"Yes you do and you know it. Now here we are years later and you still haven't learned your lesson." He did have a point, not that Sam would admit it.
"I learned something."
"I'm all ears."
"I learned that I never want to hear Asia again for as long as I live." Gabriel laughed and stood up, offering Sam his hand.
"I have to get you back before that brother of yours scours the whole of the U.S for you. Believe me, he would." Running away from your problems can't last forever, much as Sam wanted it to. He took Gabriel's hand and felt the ground drop from under his feet.