So, here we are. Chapter 10, longest so far at 5,489.
I'm sorry that these new ones take so long! Working the canon into this story and vice versa is a fucking disaster. I'm going as fast as I can, so sorry about this stuff.
Good news though, as we continue down Season 9, stuff is only going to get better! I'm lying to your face, get me?
Alright though, we have a game now! All of the chapter titles (And a good portion of the AKAs) are song lines. If you can guess what the song is, kudos and magic to you. I'll toss you a shoutout ;)
Anyway... the AKA for this chapter is 'Ezekiel Told Cas to WHAT?!'
I don't think that's a song title...
{June, 1909}
When Gabriel woke up, it was to Alpha yelling at his face.
"Gabe! Gabe, dammit, wake your dumb ass up! Get up! On your feet! Now!" She ordered, slapping his face with far more care than she pretended to have.
"I'm up, damn..." He murmured, shoving her away and planting a hand on the hood to lever himself off the ground.
"Stay down." Alpha ordered. "We called backup, we're getting you out of here."
"Then you should'a let me sleep..." Gabriel chuckled, releasing his hand just as someone else came crashing through the bushes.
"Alpha? Sol?" De'van dropped from a nearby tree, dressed in a black leather and fabric suit. His witching suit, it's silver emblems glittering in the half-light of the moon.
The louder noises were from a pair of hunters who jumped through the underbrush, wearing casual outfits, padded for support against supernatural damage.
The shorter, with slick black hair, leapt on long limbs to Alpha's side, kneeling by Gabriel and pulling him upright to tie up his ribs. Faking pain, Gabriel hissed, shifting around for emphasis.
"Gabriel, I need you to stop moving." Lucius ordered, holding him down by the shoulder.
"Ah... love you too, Lucius." Gabriel laughed weakly, leaning his head against the car.
The second man, a thin but powerful figure with soft-looking black hair, streaked with silver, jogged over, holding a blade at the ready as he watched for attackers from all angles.
"Ward, I chased... 'em off..." Gabriel waved to the newcomer.
"Gabriel, I know this is hard for you, but do me a favour and stop talking for a bit. I know you and your healing tendencies but for the love of everything good and holy in this world, stop talking." Lucius ordered, tightening the wrapping around his chest.
"What hit you guys? Demons? Because sulphur's everywhere around here." Ward noted, flipping over a stick with the tip of his blade.
"Something like that." Gabriel gritted out, tapping Lucius' hands away from his chest, standing with careful allowance for how bad his injuries were. "They'll be back though."
"How many were there?" Ward questioned, digging through the broken back seat of the car, freeing a few large bags.
Gabriel limped to his bag, marked with a golden pin, unzipping it and arming himself with his sword and a few other small blades. "I managed to get rid of a few, I sent 'em back to Hell. But I think there were four or five that ran off. Two reds, and the rest were blackies."
"Got it." Checking his gun over, Ward circled the area again. "We need to get Sol out of here though. Kid broke his leg and cracked a few ribs, nailed his head."
"Damn." Gabriel hissed, turning to look at Alpha, knelt on the ground, clutching a shaking, mostly unconscious Sol to her chest, his sandy hair the only thing entirely visible, the rest wrapped in a thick black blanket.
"He's going into shock." Alpha informed with her special brand of cold detachment, shifting Sol's weight to her knees, slipping her other arm from his hand to his legs, lifting straight up, as if she was picking up a small bag of potatoes. The unaware moan that drew from the lump was proof enough that it was still a person.
Gabriel limped to her side, brandishing his sword with a sense of detached ease, flipping it to face backward. "Let's go, Alpha." He nodded, starting in the lead.
"You good to walk?" Ward turned to him.
"I'm not gonna fall over on my ass up this hill, if that's what you're asking." Gabriel returned, flipping his sword around again. "Let's get Sol out of here."
The troop marched steadily up the hill, Gabriel leading, but having to hop every few feet on his bad leg.
Moving swiftly, they headed for the road where Gabriel, Sol and Alpha had fallen, slammed by a group of demons.
"Did you steal a bus?" Gabriel questioned with a disbelieving tone as they jogged toward the vehicle parked at the side.
"Of course I stole a damn bus, what do you take me for?" Ward returned.
"I take you for a lot of things, Ward."
"Shut up... and get in..." Alpha panted as Lucius pulled open the door, helping her into the bus, followed by Ward, then Gabriel.
His ribs were practically on fire, but Archangel magic was keeping the pain at a minimum. He could still feel the repressed nerve endings shooting off under his grace, where the energy snapped and crackled down his limbs.
"Let's get before they catch up." Ward announced, starting the bus without issue as Lucius rested one hand on the back of the chair where he sat, watching the windows for danger.
"How's the kid, Alpha?" Gabriel called to the other girl.
"He's getting some heat back. Still worried about shock, but it's getting better." Alpha replied.
"Ward, what's top speed here?" He turned forward to look at the driver.
"Top speed is whatever you need it to be." The bus accelerated slightly, though Ward had to keep it slow because of the turns on the hill.
"Then let's get to the Bunker." Pushing off his chair, Gabriel stood in the middle of the aisle to also keep watch of the surrounding hills.
{November, 2013}
Gabriel got up early that morning because he rolled over on his wing.
His bad wing.
After biting his lip hard enough to bleed to keep from screaming, he got up and wandered down the stairs, cleaning his chin off unhappily.
I need to get this fixed. I can't do it myself, so I guess I need one of the boys to... reset it. Maybe Sam. He's cuter than Deano, at least. And Castiel has his claws on Dean.
"Well, you're up early." Sam commented with a half-smile as Gabriel walked into the kitchen.
"You're up earlier." Gabriel retaliated with a playful grin, walking over to the cupboard to pull out the sugar. Glancing over his shoulder, he noticed Sam tapping on the coffee machine. "...Are you going to explode that again, or are you good?"
"First off, screw you, I can make coffee." Sam hit the coffee machine's top, to which it responded with a horrific spitting hiss, some bubbling dirt-water rising from the lid of the coffee maker.
With a yelp, Sam stepped back, just as Gabriel stepped forward, lifting the filter out of the inner mechanism and pressing cancel. "...You can, huh?"
"Just make the damn coffee, Gabe." Sam laughed slightly, stepping back to watch as Gabriel cleaned out the machine, put in new grinds, and set the coffee to brew.
"Ta da..." Gabriel gestured to the calmly brewing coffee. "Coffee."
"You suck." Sam sighed, but the words lacked bite.
Then the Archangel remembered something. "Ah, yeah, that reminds me!" Gabriel exclaimed.
There was silence for a moment.
"...That... came out wrong..." Realization evident in his tone, Gabriel rubbed his temples. "Not like that. No, I uh... have a bit of a... personal problem."
More silence.
"Uh, Gabe, I-"
"This is not how this conversation was supposed to go!" Gabriel waved his hands by his head, trying to hold in his laughter. "No, ok, well... It's personal, but not that kind of personal."
"...Oh...kay?"
"Well..." Gabriel awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. "I kinda... I need you to..." He stammered.
"Yes..?" Sam pushed.
"I need you to... Ineedyoutohelpmeresetmywing." He hissed out, quick and quiet.
"You need me to what? I thought your wings were healed." Sam poured a cup of coffee, handing it to Gabriel before pouring his own coffee.
"Well, yeah, sorta." Gabriel shrugged. "The biggest one on my right side, I broke it in landing. And uh... The break's a little far back on my wing for me to reset."
"Wait, it was broken? Is that why you crashed earlier?" Sam realized, drinking his coffee.
"Yeah. I'm off-balance, and it hurts. I rolled over on it this morning and..." Inhaling through his teeth, Gabriel rolled his right shoulder. "Yeah. I really need it fixed, or I won't... Get back the speed I had."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm still the fastest angel, Sammy. Perks of being the Messenger." He tapped his chest. "But in order to do the flying end of things, I need to fix my wing."
There was a pause as Sam considered it. "Ok."
"Wait, really?" Gabriel gasped. "You're... cool with that?"
"I mean, at the moment, you've still got your wings. It would be smart to keep your wings healthy." Sam shrugged, unfazed by Gabriel's reaction to his acceptance. "What do we need to do?"
"Well..." Gabriel took a deep breath. The last person who had fixed his wing had been his older brother, and nobody had touched or seen them since he came to Earth. "...I'm going to need to let them go physical, and then you just have to push the bone back in place."
"Sounds easy enough." Sam answered with a nod. "You need to do anything special for that?"
"We're going to need a section of the floor space to lay on. There's an empty room in the second level we can use." He pointed up. "Follow me."
When Gabriel pushed into the room, it was largely unimpressive. Naked walls, wood flooring, old scuff marks and chinks in the grey of the bricks that made it feel old and ratty. It was, however, huge. Whatever was in here years ago had been removed, but now the some forty by twenty space could be used for their enjoyment.
"No drywall in here, Sammy." Gabriel said at Sam's shocked expression. "That was only installed in about... mm, 1922? '23? I forget." He tossed the two metal braces and tensor bandages that they had hauled with them to the corner.
"This is what it looked like in the Bunker? Years ago?" Sam asked, reaching out to touch the rough wall. "Jeez."
"Yeah, when I was here, it was all grey stone. Gave it way more of a 'sex dungeon' feel." Chuckling, Gabriel peeled off his coat, undershirt and t-shirt, setting them on the floor in a corner.
"We should use this room as a sparring and training room later. Dean would love it!" Sam trotted around the space for a few minutes, grinning while Gabriel prepared himself.
"You sure you're good with this?" The Trickster asked.
"Are you sure you are?" Sam returned, giving Gabriel pause. "I've been doing a lot of reading on angels, and their wings are an extension of their True Being. Basically, you're letting me touch your True Form. And I..." Sam looked at his hands for a second. "I've done a lot of damage. You're throwing a lot of trust on someone you don't really know here, Gabe."
"First off, all the damage you've done, you thought you were doing the right thing. Second, I wouldn't trust anyone else." Gabriel smiled softly. Sam's face brightened a bit, and the Archangel felt something squirm inside, so he decided to throw off the feeling. "Plus, it's kinda hot."
Sam chuckled, but shook his head at Gabriel. "You hide shit better than Dean. C'mon, what do we have to do here?"
"Well..." Gabriel walked to the middle of the room, faced the longer wall, and carefully lay down. "Just give me a second here..."
The hunter nodded and looked away, instead going and folding up Gabriel's clothes. Lowering his head to the floor, Gabriel crossed his hands over his chest, taking deep breaths into his vessel's diaphragm.
It's ok... He reassured his fluttering grace. Sammy won't hurt me. And that angel won't reveal himself to me. That'd be suicide.
So he clamped down on his feelings, inhaled, and then released his wings.
The soft, echoing rustle of feathers unfurling, even with the stab of pain from his right side, was something that Gabriel revelled in. All three pairs of his wings unfolded, the points of his largest set stretching to touch the sides, even while he was laying at the centre of the longest wall. Tamping down his grace, he made the wings fully corporeal, the grace concentrated in his bones.
"Ok Sam." Gabriel breathed out, opening his eyes. "You can turn around now."
Sam turned around with a faintly bemused smile, though that quickly drained away to shock and awe, tracing the edges and tips, trailing across the golden feathers. Letting out a small noise of amazement, Sam stepped a little closer, watching the golden shading ripple like water whenever Gabriel shifted.
"Like what you see?" The Archangel smiled up at him.
"Gabe... wow..." Sam whispered. "They're... beautiful."
Gabriel froze.
When was the last time someone had actually called his wings 'beautiful'?
"Th-thanks, Sam..." He stammered. "Uh... Yeah."
"Like, honestly, Gabriel." Sam knelt on his right side, stretching out one hand in a request of permission. "...Can I?"
"Uh, well, to fix them you kinda have to, so go ahead."
Sam set his hand on the smallest wing, which practically arched into the touch. Gabriel had to force it down, though his other wings shuffled faintly at the feeling. Better question, how long has it been since anyone has touched my wings? He wondered, so deep in thought and lost to the calming sensation of someone else taking care of his wings that he almost missed Sam's question.
"Where's the break?" Sam asked, taking his hand from the wing.
"Oh, uh," Gabriel folded his second and third pairs on the right side into his chest. "Top right. It looks pretty swollen, and-" Sam poked at a section of feathers, prompting a hiss of pain to escape the Archangel. "Yep, there, you found it."
"Sorry." Sam winced in sympathy, running his other hand through the primary feathers in an act of comfort. Gabriel immediately relaxed, head almost falling back on the concrete before Sam caught him. "Whoa, you ok?"
"Yeah, 'm ok..." Gabriel mumbled, eyes flicking back open. When did I close them? "'T's just... painful."
"Ok, well..." Sam pulled off his coat, folding it and laying it under Gabriel's head. "There. Now how do I fix your wing?"
Shaking his head to clear it, Gabriel looked over. "Ok, here's what you do... put your hands one over the other, palms down, so like, this." Gabriel demonstrated. "Like if you were going to to CPR."
"Got it." Sam nodded, folding his hands properly.
"Now just put them over the break, and-" He yelped again. "Gently, please!"
"Sorry!" Sam let up on the slight pressure. "What now?"
"When I say go, put your weight on the break until it pops back into place." Gabriel gritted his teeth.
"Whoa, what? That's what this is?" Sam lifted his hands and sat back.
"Yeah, that's it. It's gonna be agonizing, but it's like a dislocated shoulder. Gotta put it back."
"...If you're an angel though, it has to be a little different though." Sam petted his wing gently.
"Yeah, well..." Gabriel looked at the roof. "No matter what, I pass out, I scream, you don't let up until you hear it click, got me?"
"Gabe, I really don't want to hurt you." Sam admitted, continuing to pet the top of his wing.
"And you won't. Not for long. Sometimes you have to hurt to help, Sammoose." Gabriel patted Sam's shoulder. "You ready?"
Sam let out a long breath, but prepared himself in the proper position again, locking his elbows and preparing to bear down on the break. "Tell me when."
Gabriel sucked in some air, holding it. "...Go."
The full weight of Sam's driving shoulders hit the break, and it was everything in Gabriel's power to not howl in pain, letting out his true voice and everything. Instead, he just settled for a choked off screech that a human could make, back arching off the ground as Sam shoved, increasing the pressure.
"It's not going in, Gabe!" Sam exclaimed after a few agonizing seconds.
"M-make... it... g-go in!" He gritted out, still trying not to scream outright.
Sam's weight shifted a bit, hands changing position without letting up, and Gabriel realized what he was about to do.
He barely had time to throw up a mental barrier from the pain before Sam drove his knee down on the break, and his thin walls against the pain shattered with a snap and a wail, leaving the world to a blanket of white.
When Gabriel finally blinked awake, spots of colour sifted through his vision, as if he had stared at the sun for a few minutes without Archangelic shades. Other than that, the world was a disorienting mess of light and sound, so he stopped focusing on it and closed his eyes again.
His wings were folded by his sides, the right top one bandaged tightly, the others simply placed there. It took him a surprising few seconds to realize that someone was slowly stroking his broken wing, laying the feathers straight.
With that knowledge, he expanded his view a bit more without sight, and realized that he had been moved from the room. He was on a bed, or maybe a couch, with something warm under his head and in his hair. Who the hell..?
"Hey, I think he's waking up." A voice announced from directly above him. "You back with us yet, Gabriel?" Sam. He realized.
"He better be. You both have some explaining to get to. I thought you were doing it." A deeper voice came from further away. Dean. Ok, good.
"When I walked in and heard that, I though you were being murdered." A new voice, one that Gabriel didn't recognize, came through. Younger than either of the boys by a good margin, a little weary for someone of that age, and a little sleep deprived.
"Oh, calm down. I just had to fix his wing. He asked me to, Dean." Sam patted his hair again, and Gabriel suddenly realized he was laying on Sam's lap, letting Sam pet his hair, while he lay his feathers right.
And damn if he didn't just want to go back to sleep right then and ignore everything in exchange for the first time he felt truly safe with another in a few millennia.
But there was a rogue angel in Sam and he needed to get rid of it. And it was too close to him. He could cuddle with Sam later. For now though...
Gabriel let out a rather eloquent noise of awakening, like a half choke and a breath all at the same time.
"He lives." Dean proclaimed from one side of the room, coming over with heavy footfalls. "Ya' gonna go all Victorian Lady on us again, or are you awake for real this time?" He demanded, this time, his voice was only a foot away from Gabriel's face.
"'m up." Gabriel mumbled, shifting limbs that felt like lead under his body, trying to push into a sitting position.
"Hey, give it a few minutes, Gabe. You were out for almost half an hour." Sam's arm trapped him on the bed, forcing him to stop moving.
"D'd y' get my wing in, 't least?" He murmured, laying back down slowly.
"Yeah. It went in at the same time that you went out. I think you caused a power outage in town, by the way." Sam chuckled. Gabriel groaned in response.
"Ugh, sorry..."
"Hey, I think you kind of earned that one." Sam patted his shoulder gently. "Felt the break afterward. Not clean, a little spiralled. I'm amazed the power in here didn't go out."
"Can't." Gabriel answered. "Not by me. I'm linked in, remember?" He grunted, shifting around again to try and get up.
"Right. Gabriel, stop- Galurmedged! Sit still!" He ordered.
Gabriel froze, and almost instantly relaxed, laying back down while everyone else stared at Sam.
"...What is that, a safeword or something?" Dean questioned sarcastically.
"No, Dean, it's Enochian." Sam reached over to his back. "And Gabe, I didn't want you moving because we wrapped your wing in a blanket and I don't want you ripping it to pieces trying to stand." Another layer of something was thrown off his back, and Sam looped a fabric knot over his head before helping him rotate forward and sit up.
The fabric knot pulled taut as something heavy pulled it down, and Gabriel looked down to see the sheet wrapped around the middle and top sections of his wing, supporting as much as holding it together.
"...Thanks, Sam." Gabriel reached over, running his hand over the break, wrapped in gauze and the metal rods for support. "It feels much better."
"Good enough to start actually healing?"
"I should be right as rain in a few days." Gabriel grinned, using the bed to stand up. Then he focused and wreathed his wings in his grace, pulling them and the bandages into his nonexistent, non-corporeal self.
"Whoa!" Sam gasped as the wings flickered and vanished.
"Sorry. Should've warned ya'."
"What about the bandages?" Waving one hand behind Gabriel's back, Sam seemed both curious and concerned.
"They're all here. I just pulled them into my little slice of non-corporeality." Gabriel shrugged. "We're all good."
"As long as you're ok."
"If you two are done having your... Whatever that is," Dean interrupted with a wave. "Kevin had 'big news'."
"Yeah. C'mon, guys." Sam patted Gabriel's shoulder, and stood up, following the others.
Kevin? As in Tran? Gabriel wondered, letting go of the bed and following slower.
"That's your 'big news'," Sam asked, flipping through pages just as the Archangel wandered down the stairs. "Is that you translated the tablet into... Doodles?"
"It's cuneiform." Kevin explained. Both of them looked at him like he had spoken another language right there, so he continued. "I-I hit a wall translating the tablet into English. But I found and ancient codex uh, linking the angel script into proto-Elamite cuneiform, and, I was able to translate the tablet and the footnotes into Elamite, which... is-"
"Doodles." Dean filled in as Gabriel limped over, picking up a sheet himself.
"It's extinct." Corrected Kevin.
"Well, can you read it?" Sam questioned.
"No one can." Kevin answered. "Scholars have tried for centuries."
"Hang on, give me a sheet." Gabriel held out his hand. "Yeah, gimmie." When Sam passed him another page, he examined it for a moment, squinting. "...Yeah, sorry. I think I was in the Sahara on a party at the time..." He sighed, setting the pages back down.
"So it's a dead end." Dean slapped down the pages in his own hand.
"N-not quite, now, most proto-Elamite is abstract, but I was able to decipher one phrase from Metatron's footnotes."
"Metatron?" Gabriel questioned. "The little foot-licker?"
Silence.
"...That aside..." Kevin resumed "'Falling angels.'"
"Ok, so the footnotes refer to Metatron's spell?" Sam asked.
"Maybe." Kevin shook his head slightly.
"Ok, hang on, fill me in. Metatron, the shaking little scribe, is the one who did this?!" Gabriel exclaimed.
"Yeah, Gabe, that's what's happening." Sam huffed. "Though, maybe if we can decipher the footnotes, then we can reverse the spell and-" He dug through their shelves for a moment, searching.
"Punt those winged dicks back to Heaven." Dean finished.
"I'm standing right here!" Gabriel exclaimed.
Ignoring the previous statement, Dean continued. "Where do we start?"
"Research." Sam slapped down a set of books in front of each of them, including Gabriel. "We comb through the library, see if we can find anything else on Elamite."
"...I'll see what I can snag from... Not here." Gabriel pushed the book away from him. "I can manage a pond-hop on four wings. I'll be back at around... mm, let's say, five, now time." He made a quick gesture. "Mesopotamia should hold some shit that I'm looking for. Back later, call me if you need anything!" He saluted, and spread his uninjured wings, passing harmlessly through the wards that were marked with his blood, gliding into the daylight.
It was hours of sorting through ancient texts and museums, that yielded barely any information, but it wasn't enough. Gabriel stared at the texts until his eyes hurt, but it still wasn't enough.
It did, though, give him a lot of time to think about a lot of things.
Like why he felt so... calm, when hanging around Sam. He felt relaxed, comforted by the presence of a hunter, a hunter who had the misfortune to care about an abandoning son of a bitch like himself.
Too bad he was stuck there now. Wouldn't it be nice to just... run away? Again? He thought, glancing up at the fading sun, the moon behind him rising steadily.
No it wouldn't. You need to be done with running. You abandoned your responsibilities once. You can't keep doing it. Not anymore. The Michael in his head ordered. The angels need someone to lead them, and-
I know you're just a figment of my imagination, but you're starting to sound a lot like Michael. And in case, me, you forgot, we already picked a side. And it sure as shit ain't Heaven. Gabriel ran a hand through his hair, sipping on the cold, alcoholic drink in his hand. I'm just glad that Archangels can't technically fall. Just... Cast out.
And how do you know that I'm a figment of your imagination?
Gabriel spat all over the table.
"I-I apologize." He said to the server nearby in Arabic. "I will help." He picked up a cloth, quickly starting to wipe down the table. "My apologies. Something... surprised me."
That... What the fuck? Mikey? Is it actually you or what? Gabriel demanded as he paid for the drink, said sorry for the like, 500th time, and left into the chilly night.
It is, Gabriel. Still in the Cage... with our other brother.
It was the disdain, self-loathing, anger, love, and fear in that one sentence that made Gabriel ignore him for the rest of the day.
He spent most of the day in a crypt, fixing old scripts and tablets, even some talismans. Each page he fixed felt like four steps backward for each step forward, but it was working. He was learning to read the ancient, scratched cuneiform.
"And by the grace of..." He murmured, leaning closer to the page. "...Hect... something... May she rise... from our..." Gabriel rubbed at his forehead, trying to focus on that rather than how he'd much rather be resting his weakened, damaged body on a couch with his favourite Winchester.
His wing had started to ache again at around hour three, and it was nearly hour six now. It was stiff, should've been stretched out, and tomorrow, he'd need to exercise it. Healing wings is a pain in the ass, pass it on. I just want to go sleep. Preferably on Sam. That'd be nice. He is nice.
I agree, Gabriel. Michael responded to his musing. To the healing wings problem, not... the rest of it.
Fuck off, Michael. Gabriel snapped in return, biting his lip.
That word is 'Hectacate.'
"I said fuck OFF!" Gabriel screamed, whipping a tablet at the wall. It cracked and shattered upon contact, pieces crumbling to the ground. The Trickster though, had spun around to look at nothing. "One of you threw out the other, and now the other tried to kill me! Goddamnit, Michael, leave me the fuck alone!"
Silence answered him, and Gabriel collapsed onto his knees in the empty cave, emotions finally overwhelming him into a shocked few whimpers, right before the faint, choked sobbing began.
"It's time when I bloody well say it's time- Hello, Abbadon."
Those were the words that greeted Gabriel as he reappeared in the Bunker, homing in on Sam's location.
Inside, the King of Hell, chained up though he was, was talking into a bowl of blood. Uninvited, Gabriel stayed back and out of sight.
"How are the numbers?" Crowley asked the blood, carefully observed by Sam and Kevin. There was a pause as Abbadon spoke. "...You're taking souls before their time." Crowley realized after she finished. "Voiding my contracts." He hissed darkly as Sam glanced to Kevin.
Gabriel grit his teeth. Crowley, really, had been the best king that Hell had seen in a long time, all because he knew how the world had to work. Hell needed integrity.
"You... Ganky... Putrescent... Skanger!" Crowley half-shouted. "It may look like bean-counting to you, it may lack a certain, adolescent flair, but my way... Works!"
Gabriel came into the room, meeting Crowley's eyes. For a half second, they simply stared at each-other, waiting. Then Gabriel gave a slow, careful nod. I support you in this one.
After nodding back, Crowley continued. "You think you can control Hell with chaos alone, without, the support of those who are still loyal to me?!"
Then Crowley went very silent, eyes dark with rage. "Your way... Will backfire." He snarled. "You. Will. Burn." He stated.
Then he pushed away the bowl of blood.
"...Crowley?" Sam questioned.
"Bring me the translations." He said coldly. After a pause, he continued. "I keep, my agreements."
Kevin immediately went for the pages, taking them over to Sam, who set them in front of Crowley.
"'Obtain the ingredients- heart, bow, grace.'" Crowley read off. "Blah blah blah... 'Mix until the smoke shall rise from the ashes, casting the angels from Heaven.' Blah, blah blah... Oh." He blinked in surprise. "...It's irreversible."
Gabriel stiffened, sucking in a sharp breath. Sure, he still had his wings, but he was locked out of Heaven. That was when he whirled around, slammed one hand into a bookcase with a resounding crash, and stormed out, hissing bitter Enochian curses under his breath.
He ignored Sam's attempts to call him back.
The hunter found him nursing a glass of whiskey over his pages after he finished with Crowley.
"You went out of there pretty quick." Sam commented, sitting beside him.
"Yeah, well..." Gabriel began, running a hand through his hair, lifting up the vellum notes to Sam. "Here. Try to translate what you can with that." He huffed.
"These are..."
"What I spent my day on." Gabriel sighed, taking another sip of the beverage. "...What happened to Dean, after I left?"
"Oh, he uh, got a call from Cas. About a hunt."
"Good. Still using his powers to help people. Good." Gabriel repeated, rubbing his forehead.
"Cas doesn't have his powers anymore." Sam stated. Gabriel just about dropped his cup.
"...He doesn't what?!" Gabriel hissed, whipping to face Sam with wide, furious eyes. "And he isn't here because why?"
"Because he thought that he'd bring angels down on us, and he didn't want us hurt."
Gabriel stood up, walking over to the control panel. "Bullshit. He could easily stay, just-"
There was a flicker of energy shift behind him, too close behind him.
When Gabriel whirled around, he already had his blade out, chest to chest with Ezekiel, if that was his real name, the tip of his sword touching Sam's throat, forcing the angel to pull back slightly.
"One good reason, angel." He whispered darkly, certainty and promised hatred lacing his tone. "Give me one good reason not to cut you out and spread your ashes across the galaxy."
"...I am healing this body." It said in Sam's voice, but so, so much not Sam. "If you pull me out, I could do life-endangering damage before I was free."
"...So it could." Gabriel hissed, pulling the knife a half inch up, forcing Ezekiel to lift his head higher, revealing more of his throat. "...You kicked out my brother, possessed my Winchester and now, you have the audacity to threaten Sam's health on your escape." He pushed the knife a little higher up. "...The day he is healed." Gabriel stated. "The very day he can survive and heal without you, you leave. Or I kill you."
Then he lowered the knife, and stalked out to go deal with the rage in his chest elsewhere.