Well lookit that, gentlemen and ladies. It's high time we got here, hm? At least Gabriel gets to be ho- oh wait... does he know about 1958?
AKA, I'm the Real Shady, Sammy
{June, 1909}
The hunt was going poorly.
Gabriel crouched behind a wooden box, his Mauser held tight against his chest with one finger itching to pull the trigger. Admitted, the shot of salt-water coated iron would be useless at the moment, but he wanted to.
He glanced to the lanky blond teen who held a bag of salt and a similarly iron-salt coated sidearm, Sol making a few quick hand gestures to move forward. Gabriel boosted to his feet, remaining low and balanced as he dashed forward, followed by Sol, the pair hiding behind a second crate. "Where's Alpha?" Gabriel hissed at him.
"Not sure." Sol answered, stretching his neck to peer around the corner, snapping back to look at Gabriel swiftly. "At least three of them out there. You gonna be good with that?"
Gabriel rolled his eyes. "I've been hunting longer than you've been alive." He whispered. "You kids need to get on my level."
"I'm sure, we'll think about that in about a second, when Alpha's done with the ground level demons." Sol agreed placatingly, right before a single shot rang out.
The first demon, a guard, went down like a sack of potatoes.
The other two jumped as he fell, searching the overhead beams for the black shape that would betray the sniper's location, which was when Gabriel and Sol moved.
A few shots and a quick finisher with his angel blade, Gabriel was waving to the ceiling of the warehouse, it's tin roof preventing him from seeing where Alpha was hiding at all. "Next shot's yours, kiddo. Go get the big one down, we'll get the others." He whisper-shouted, the words greeted with a soft slipping noise.
Sol and Gabriel leaned on the wall beside the door, waiting for the shots that would declare their time to come in.
"Well, got any good jokes?" Gabriel questioned quietly as they rested and listened.
"Really, Gabriel?" Sol turned to face him, an eyebrow raised. "Can you be serious for more than two minutes in a firefight?"
"Nope." Gabriel answered, a little too confidently. "Besides, I thought kids your age liked jokes."
"Not jokes from before I was born." Sol huffed, pulling out one of their potion smoke-bombs, custom made by De'van.
"I know, that's why I asked you about any jokes you knew!"
Sol chuckled lightly at that.
Then the shot came.
Sol lobbed the smoke-bomb over the wall, the glass shattering and slow, soft tendrils of thick grey smog leaking over the walls as chaos reigned inside the boxed off area, Alpha having obviously dropped into the fray, slaughtering the demons wholesale and ignoring the human hostages, avoiding the one they had been sent to capture.
Gabriel hummed a tune he had heard De'van singing the other day, pacing slowly while Sol fiddled with the Enochian handcuffs he brought along.
"Boys!" Alpha's surprisingly deep, low, half-growl of a voice called after the noises subsided. "All clear!"
Sol placed one hand on the handle, nodding to Gabriel, who cocked his rifle anyway, before pushing inside.
In the centre of the room, a tall, lithe, muscular woman stood, her short-cut black hair and combat gear making her look more like a guy. She was swiftly tying down a trapped demon, the one they had been sent to retrieve for Wayne, while Sol checked the rest of the room and started to untie the survivors.
"Hey sugar." Gabriel grinned playfully at Alpha, who simply gave him a fond scoff.
"You going to flirt or help me? Sol, pass Gabriel those cuffs!" She ordered in her sharp accent that sounded vaguely Irish, but also weirdly Canadian. It was the strangest thing to listen to, but... Gabriel was definitely going to Hell for wanting the half-child of a werefox, but damn if he wouldn't tap that.
The Enochian cuffs in question landed about an inch from his foot, prompting Gabriel to slide the tip of his boot under the chain and kick the cuffs upward, catching them as they came within grabbing range.
After that, Gabriel locked the demon into the cuffs, stepping away to allow Alpha to gag and blindfold him, covering his ears with thick wads of fabric that prevented him from hearing.
"Well, that hunt went great!" Gabriel grinned as Sol finished cutting the hostages free, helping them up and running to get his truck so they could be taken to the nearest town.
"We do indeed have the target." Alpha agreed, patting the demon's head, green-blue eyes flashing to slits. She intrigued Gabriel on a level few ever had.
"Oh, mission mission blah blah. Let's just put him in the trunk. Go for dinner." Gabriel suggested.
"Gabe, we have Sol with us." Alpha informed unnecessarily, dragging the demon to his feet by his neck.
"Yeah, but we could get food."
"Later, you kinopsha." She laughed.
"Wait, was that Enochian? Damn, that sounded great!" Gabriel laughed as the group and their freed victims walked out of the warehouse, into the safety of the sun.
{October, 2013}
"You are the worst conversationalist I have ever met. I thought you were the Trickster, joking and all that."
Gabriel facepalmed lightly, letting his hand slide down his face with a drawn-out groan. The cuff around his wrist clinked loudly against itself as he did so, making a jarring clang as he dropped his hand toward the floor. "Do you ever shut up?" He growled, annoyed, at Crowley.
"Not at all." In the darkness, Gabriel could practically hear the demon's smirk. "It's a little worse right now, as I've had nobody to talk to for the last few days."
"Then go back to pretending that." Gabriel snapped, shuffling to lean in the corner better, wincing as his wing twinged with the rough movement.
"We're trapped in the same cell, angel, and we should talk as prisoners do. You know, don't make friends with the officers, but with the victims?" Crowley questioned.
"First off," Gabriel held up his pointer finger. "You ever call me 'angel' again, I'll smite you, wards or not. And before you ask," Gabriel interrupted when Crowley opened his mouth. "I know every nook and cranny, every ward, every sigil and it's counter in this place. Second, if we're both prisoners, how come you've got a collar and I've got a cute bracelet?" Gabriel held his hand up, rotating his arm to make the shackle bounce on his wrist with small clicking noises.
"Because, Goldie, they like you better." Crowley replied, making Gabriel grunt begrudgingly. "Though, I'm sure your previous treatment of them won't end up poorly, not at all." The demon noted smugly.
"Oh my God." Gabriel breathed out, words coming out as an exasperated heave. "Who the fuck decided it was a good idea to dump you on the throne of Hell?"
"I did!" Crowley responded just in time for the light to snap on, and footsteps to fill the area outside the dungeon.
"Hey, uh..." Gabriel raised his voice, temporarily ignoring the demon. Light, trying to be smaller footsteps. Annoying Michael informed. "Sammy!" Gabriel called. "Can you come'ere for a sec?"
The footsteps paused, suspicious, before the bookshelves pushed open. "It's Sam." The hunter growled darkly, staring down Gabriel.
"Or moose." Crowley piped up unhelpfully. Both of them completely ignored him.
"...Ok Sam." Gabriel agreed with a sigh. "Can you get my sling? Sitting on this floor hurts." He requested.
"The towel that you had tied around your shoulder earlier?" Sam questioned. Gabriel nodded in assent, and Sam raised an eyebrow. "Your arm doesn't look broken."
"It isn't." Gabriel answered immediately, wincing regretfully at the speed of the statement. "Look, it's private, I don't want to-"
Crowley bumped in instead. "His wing is busted, Moose, an-"
"Shut your trap." Gabriel hissed furiously, his other wings spreading out slightly, making Crowley's hide behind him.
"Your wing is broken?" Sam stared at him in astonishment. "How does an angel break a wing? Wait, hold on..." Sam waved him off as he prepared to answer. "How do you still even have wings?"
"Trade secret, but know I broke one on landing." Gabriel huffed, accepting his apparent fate. "And I'd like off this floor and my sling back so it doesn't hurt as much, thank you very much."
"Hold on, bitch." Dean growled gruffly, stalking into the room behind Sam, throwing the makeshift sling at Gabriel. "You're not going anywhere out of this room until you tell us how you made it into the most heavily warded place on earth."
Gabriel was momentarily astonished. "The most heavily warded place on- Oh my God, you idiots barely had the first layer of wards on!" He exclaimed, waving his free hand. "You're lucky that nobody knows about this place, or you'd've had every angel from here to Nevada on your ass!"
Sam and Dean shared a quick, suspicious look between each other and him, before turning back. "Still doesn't explain how you got inside." Sam stated in a measured, cool tone. "Did you pick the lock?"
"Oh yeah, I picked the lock on a fifty-someodd year old door, on the most heavily warded door on the planet." Gabriel stated, voice showing complete honesty. Sam and Dean appeared confused for a half second before Gabriel continued. "Of course not!" He exclaimed. "I had a key."
That seemed to confuse them even more. "...Where..." Sam stepped closer. "Where did you get a key?"
"I own one." Gabriel stated with a casual shrug. He really saw no reason to lie about this now, he was in too deep already.
"Yeah, sure you do." Dean scoffed. "Who's was it?"
"Mine!" Gabriel tapped a hand to his chest. "It's mine! Go ahead, check it." He fished the key out of his pocket, holding it out to them. "I happen to know what every key in this place is made of, and let me tell ya, salt-soaked, consecrated iron isn't easy to recreate or manipulate, so this is the original key."
Sam reached out carefully, snatching the key from Gabriel and handing it to Dean, who examined it. "... This is a key from the nineteen-hundred set." He glanced over as Sam stared at him in confusion. "...Where the hell did you get a key, in... a cover name, from the nineteen-hundreds?"
"I live here!" Gabriel half-shouted. "In the files, if you look, there was an angel researcher. His name was Gabriel. Alexander. Moran." Gabriel gritted out. "He was me."
"I know that name." Sam piped up. "He was an Enochian translator. That one who was working on the demon record book?" Sam's eyebrows narrowed. "He uncovered the names of some 60 demons, most of which had their bones burned."
"Yes!" Gabriel remembered. "We had to capture a demon for that! His name was Finnic. I pulled the information about the book out of him, then translated the book!"
"So, you mean you worked here?" Sam came a step closer. "You worked with the Men of Letters as their translator?"
"Better," Gabriel nodded. "I was their angel researcher. I lived here."
"Hold on..." Dean interrupted their chat. "You lived here?" He demanded, voice still disbelieving.
"Well yeah! I played at being human for almost a half century! Didn't really use my grace for any of it." Gabriel rolled his eyes in distaste. "I was stationed at this place for thirty years."
"...And you know how to use this place?" Sam asked suspiciously.
"Of course!" Gabriel snapped. Am I misspeaking or something? "Hello~? I spent the-" He cut off, realizing what he was about to spill. "I spent some time getting to know the hunter community. Well, Men of Letters community." He shrugged. "Now can you untie me?"
"Hold on..." Dean ordered when Sam reached for the cuff. "...How do we know you won't stab us in the back?"
"You trust me?" Gabriel returned. Dean stared at him, unimpressed. "Alright, you don't. But personally, as much fun as it would be to kick you all out and claim this place for myself, I rather enjoy you two, as trouble seems to follow you. And I'm bored. Faking your death only goes a little fun, y'know?"
"That reminds me..." Sam began, kneeling in front of Gabe. "How did you escape anyway? We went to get your body after you cleared out. Saw the wing-marks and everything."
Gabriel threw his head back and barked a laugh. "Hah! Luci wouldn't know a construct from his own brother, even if it was to stab him in the ass. I was actually the one you saw walk in from the front." He chuckled. "Right after I knew he was actually going to stab me, well..." He made a small flicking gesture. "Slight of hand trick. Never actually touched me."
"...Alright." Dean relented. "Let him out. One slip up, though, and I'm-"
"Gonna shove my own sword up my ass?" Gabriel finished.
"Good enough." Dean growled, starting to stalk off.
"Hey, can I have my key back? I actually like that thing!" He shouted after Dean's retreating back. The key landed on the floor a few feet away. Gabriel sighed as Sam started to unlock his cuff. "Well, Sammoose, looks like you gotta introduce me to the others." He said, fake-happily. "Who's the brains in this place now, because, no offence, the Men of Letters don't really take well to the whole 'hunter' business."
"...What do you mean, 'others'?" Sam asked slowly.
"Y'know, the researchers? Who's your witch right now? Oh, did you guys get a Wiccan instead?" Gabriel stood up as the cuff fell off, stretching out his arms.
"...What are you talking about?"
"C'mon Sammy! Clue in here!" Gabriel trotted a few feet away, picking up the key and sliding it's leather loop back over his head. "I know you're not stupid. Who else is on call? Working? Who else lives here?"
Sam looked him over, expression unreadable. "Gabriel... When did you last... see, the Men of Letters?"
"Uh..." Gabriel paused, thinking for a second. "Ninteen... fifty... three? About there?" He shrugged, trying to keep a casual appearance while something in his chest sank.
Sam winced. "So you don't know what happened then, to the others..."
Gabriel froze, the feeling in his chest like he had swallowed a ball of Mistletoe. "...Sam, what happened?" He whispered, low and dark.
"Gabriel, they were killed. The Men of Letters were killed and... disbanded in 1958."
His vessel's heart, which happened to be beating, stopped dead.
-{[|]}-
It was like everything inside him, everything that made him more than an angel, had just collapsed. It was just his grace, his cold, too bright, too stark and too sharp grace, throbbing and pulsing with his unnecessary breathing.
He had forgotten how long he had been staring at the page for. The page of all the people he had... abandoned.
Blanch King-Price, Fay and Dixie Fox, Ivory Ellis, Clarence and Celeste Fletcher, Henry Winchester... Gabriel Moore. He read the last line with reverence. Shay named her daughter after... After me.
I should've stayed. He thought bitterly, biting the edge of his lip. I should've faked that I had a deal with someone. Stayed around for... for years. I could've. Come back under a new name... I could've protected them! I could've-
"God DAMMIT!" Gabriel screamed, slamming a fist on the table, cupping his face in his hands and trying, trying not to cry. He was Gabriel. He was Gabriel, the Trickster, the Liar! The ultimate jokester, and absolute badass who had fooled the devil himself, evaded Heaven for years, and somehow come out on top of it all still alive. Archangels though... they were supposed to be perfect. And unfortunately, perfection still had it's flaws. Theirs? Once they felt emotion, they couldn't get rid of it.
"Cursing your own father there, Gabr-"
"I will shoot your FUCKING CAT!" Gabriel shouted at Crowley, sat behind the shelves.
"...Well now that's just rude." Crowley responded through the blockade.
"Your face is just rude." Gabriel spat back, emotions threatening to spill over in a wave. He really wanted to be back in that van now, somewhere on the other side of the country, probably mouthing off to Scott.
"That was uncalled for."
"Your face is uncalled for."
"I'll have you know, I am a rather attractive demo-"
"I know you are, I can see your true form. And FYI, you are prettier than most demons I've met. But I've gotta say, the red and orange? A little girly, dude." Gabriel smirked at the thought of pissing off Crowley.
"Excuse me?!" Crowley exclaimed, already getting riled up. "I'll have you know, that-"
"Crowley, can it." Dean ordered, silencing the demon. "He's just pissing you off."
"I thought you of all people wouldn't mind me pissing him off." Gabriel smirked as Dean sat down, silently shoving all his emotional baggage into his chest and throwing away the key.
"Yeah well..." Dean rolled his eyes. "The more pissed off he is, the less he talks."
"Oh, God, then please let me piss him off! Idiot wouldn't shut up twenty minutes ago..."
"Sorry, ranger, you're on probation."
"You gonna cuff me, officer?" Gabriel gave a suggestive eyebrow wiggle.
"Gross." Dean rolled his eyes, and bit into the burger he had brought with him. "What'cha lookin' at?"
"I'm looking at... at the old files. The kids, of the members I lived here with." Gabriel sighed. "A lot of them died that night. Henry's body was never found, your grandad."
"About that..." Dean rubbed the back of his neck. "He traveled in time to come meet Sam and I. He died savin' the world from Abbadon."
"...Sounds like we aren't done with that yet, either." Gabriel snarled. "Can't wait to sink that bitch myself."
"Get in line." Dean chuckled. "Can you kill her?" He asked after a moment's hesitation.
"Pfft, please, Winchester." Gabriel rolled his eyes. "I'll need to get in close, but a stab from an Archangel's blade ought to do it. Also, I gotta ask, did you make those burgers? Because damn."
"So you stole my burger?" Dean growled, making Gabriel laugh. "Should've known."
They sat in semi-companionable silence after that.