A/N: It's Friday. Only one family will walk away from this. Chapter title taken from the movie and book of the same name (The Lovely Bones, by Alice Sebold), and I also paraphrased a little bit from Robert Frost (Stopping in Woods On a Snowy Evening).

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. This is for entertainment only, and not for profit.


Chapter 25b –the lovely bones: promises kept

Sam lunged forward. He saw a flash of silver out of the corner of his eye, caught a glimpse of Missy's face, battered black and blue, yet her eyes were wide open with a feral gleam in them. Her lips skinned back from her teeth in a fierce grin. She looked like a woman who really enjoyed her work.

The blade of the ax skipped down the side of Sam's arm, ripped his shirt sleeve open, scraped off the top layer of skin from the top of his shoulder to his elbow. The pain made his jaw clench, and he could hear Missy mumbling something over and over again.

Too close quarters for him to pull the pistol and shoot her, and the idea of keeping his back to her while he pulled the gun didn't appeal to him, not at all. A chair loaded down with dirty clothes sat nearby, and as Sam moved he turned and kicked at the back of the chair. Just his luck the thing was bolted down to the floor or something. Nothing in this crazy damn place surprised him, not anymore. He really wasn't expecting much, just needed to put something between him and her while he pulled the gun.

Maybe the patron saint of hunters was finally paying attention. The chair left the floor in a flying arc and slammed into Missy, knocked her backwards in a tangle of broken wood and dirty clothes.

Sam turned, pulled the gun out in one smooth motion and raised it as he put his back to the wall.

Missy laughed, high pitched, and gleeful, like a hyena, and the high pitched notes prickled their way up and down Sam's already hyped up nerve endings.

Missy untangled herself from the clothes with a throaty growl, crouched low and ran for the door. Sam squeezed off one shot, and the shot splintered the door frame several inches above her head. She might have been certifiably insane at this very moment, but she wasn't crazy enough to charge again.

She was headed out. Not a good idea. Bobby was still out there, and so was John.

And Dean.

Sam lunged for the doorway. He still couldn't make out what she was saying, and something else nagged at him besides.

Too easy…it had all been way too easy. Sam had hoped this was it, that burning the bible and whatever was in it would end this, but the suspicion had always lurked at the back of his mind: if Abraham Bender had kept a lock of Gabriel's hair as a keepsake, then what the hell did he do with the rest of him?

Sam stopped and listened as Missy pounded her way down the front stairs, and the last piece of the puzzle clicked seamlessly into place.

"Not gonna work…dumb sumbitch thinks that's alla him…not true…I know a secret…that's not all…"

Sam could hear what she was saying; she'd been saying it out loud all along. Missy was talking to herself, and judging from that crazed look on her face Sam doubted that she even knew that she was saying anything out loud.

The bitch sounded happy.

Sam ducked back into the room, dumped the lighter fluid, the salt and the box of matches back into the duffel, just as he heard the front door downstairs slam open.

Please, he prayed to whoever might be listening. Please…

Sam grabbed the duffel bag and ran after her.


Gabriel twisted the knife hilt again.

Everything around John went red hot with pain as the blade dug deeper. John's body bucked upwards, his leg jerked in the bear trap, and as the teeth bit even deeper into his flesh and muscles the motion sent another fresh spasm of agony rocketing up John's spine. His right arm was pinned to his side by Gabriel's leg and boot. John moaned, low and guttural. He stared at Gabriel for a moment, through the pain that jolted through him, and maybe it was a trick of the moonlight, but John could see Dean.

Dean's image, a ghost of him, overlaid over Gabe's image. Spiky dark blond hair, freckled skin, green eyes wide with shock and horror, transparent, layered over long sandy blond hair, full lips pulled back in a mocking grin. The glint in Gabe's eyes was wild and sorrowful, grief at the loss of his brother and pure joy at hurting John all mixed together, and even with the tears running down his face Gabriel looked surreal and oddly beautiful underneath the moonlight.

Gabriel looked exactly like the things they hunted. He looked Other.

Dean stared down, blinked those impossibly long, thick eyelashes at John. His lips moved soundlessly, but John heard him all the same. Dad, please, 'm sorry. Sorry…

I know. I am too, kiddo, John thought.

Dean nodded and closed his eyes.

John's muscles shook, but he balled his left hand into a fist, reached up and smashed Gabriel in the side of his face.

John roared.

Gabriel's head snapped to the side; his grip on the knife hilt loosened slightly.

There was a part of John, calm and calculating, separate from the pain, that knew for certain that Dean would bruise like hell after this. That would be visible proof enough to Sam that John had already broken his promise that he wasn't going to hurt Dean.

Right now John didn't have any other options.

John hit him again, hard, then harder, a third time. Gabriel's fingers stuttered open. He sat back on his heels as he straddled John's body. He wiped at the blood on his face, grinned at the blood on his fingers. John raised his arm again.

Gabriel grabbed John by the wrist and squeezed; the bones in John's wrist creaked and nearly snapped. Gabriel pinned John's arm down to his side.

His gaze flickered to John's throat as he reached out for the knife in John's shoulder, and in that moment John knew where the knife was going next. Gabriel smirked. He gripped the knife hilt again.

Someone moved in the bushes, directly ahead, and Gabriel's head snapped up with a snarl.

Blood, purplish black bruises, but he spotted long brown hair, the top of that sky blue dress his girl wore, and it was one of his favorites. He didn't recognize her at first. Gabriel knelt there, scowling at the wreck of her face.

Missy.

Someone was going to pay for doing that. Gabriel smiled down at John Winchester, and pulled back on the knife. Slowly.

He had someone right here, right now.

A little more fun with this bastard, and then he could go be with his girl. A slight twist of the knife, and Papa Winchester shuddered as his eyes rolled up into his head. Not good.

Want you awake for this, Gabriel thought.

None of that mattered after what happened next.

"Hey!" Whoever shouted that out sounded pissed. The sound came from behind. Gabriel still didn't move. He could still easily pull the knife out, slash Winchester's throat open from ear to ear. He would have, but in the next instant the night air was split by the sound of a shotgun blast.

Gabriel jerked at the sound. His back prickled painfully with the expectation of red hot pain in his back and head as the buckshot ripped into him.

That lasted about a couple of seconds, and then Gabe understood. You never hear the shot that kills you. And whoever this was hadn't shot him in the back. They fired into the air. They were trying to save Dean.

His own gun lay on the ground a few feet away, but Missy was in the opposite direction. Her pull on him was stronger. Gabriel half rose and he felt something churn and rage inside his head as he did.

You sonofabitch…

Dean.

Weak, mewling Dean.

Gabriel stumbled towards the bushes, towards Missy, and as he did he felt something break open inside him. Weakness washed all through his muscles. His breath rattled in his chest, and his heart thumped and jumped and shook as though someone had their hands around it, squeezing.

Gotcha, Dean muttered.

Gabriel grinned anyway, despite the pain. I messed your family up anyway, didn't I, you worthless sumbitch? Killed your freak brother, and Daddy's not lookin' too good, is he?

Dean smiled inside Gabriel's head. Sam's still alive. And he's coming for your freak ass.

The smell of gunpowder filled Gabe's memory. That wide-eyed look of amazement on the freak's face hadn't been a dying declaration, just amazement at the fact that Gabe shot at him twice. And missed him. Twice.

Dean saw to that.

Gabriel lurched forward. The ground underneath his feet felt soft and spongy; he barely felt it as the brush scratched and tore at his skin.

Missy…he had to get to Missy.

His head hurt, worse than it had that time he'd fallen out of that tree and Abe had to carry him back home when they were kids. Where was Abraham? Back at the house, maybe. Gabriel couldn't understand why they were out in the woods anyway.

Moving was like pushing through thick heavy mud that he couldn't see. His knees buckled as he somehow pushed his way forward, and then she was there, his head hurt, and he couldn't understand what happened. Abraham was out here somewhere

Missy held him up, hooked his left arm over her shoulders. He stumbled as they ran. " 's okay, baby, it's okay," she murmured, soft and gentle. "I got you. I got all of you now."


"Shit! John? John!"

John blinked away the darkness that welled up inside him. His shoulder and right leg screamed soprano now, a symphony of pain. "B-Bobby?"

"Lord, what a mess," Bobby groused. "Wasn't enough for you to step in a bear trap." He nodded towards the knife in John's shoulder. You had to get stuck too? Hold still, you idjit. Let me pry you loose."

John took the shotgun with some hesitation. It was the smart play, keeping the gun handy, just in case Gabriel decided to double back.

John didn't feel good about it. The knife would ahve to stay in for now. He'd bleed out if Bobby took it out.

Bobby scowled at him. "I know what you're thinking. I nearly shot him, too."

John only grunted. As soon as the steel teeth slid out of his skin he began to bleed again. The only saving grace was that the teeth of the trap weren't sharp. That was probably deliberate. The teeth were dull, possibly to hold whoever stepped into the trap.

Sam Winchester eased his way into the clearing with his gun drawn five minutes after John passed the shotgun back and was tearing his overshirt into strips for his leg. John stopped and stared at his youngest son, then jerked his head in the direction Gabriel and Missy went. Sam nodded wordlessly as he angled his way around towards the brush, then disappeared from view. plunged out of sight into it.

John groaned as he tried to gather his legs underneath him. Bobby staggered a little as John leaned on him and he and John stood up together. John looked down at Bobby's damaged foot. "What the hell happened to you?"

Bobby grimaced. "Lost a toe."

John frowned at him. "Who the fuck did that?"

"Who the hell do you think? Come on, Winchester." Bobby hooked John's right arm over his shoulder. "I've had enough of that crazy bitch to last me a lifetime."


A few yards away Missy found one of the long handled axes stuck waist-high into a tree. She yanked it out while Gabriel stood there, swaying on his feet. He was dull-eyed, tired. He looked like he needed to rest. He was heavy, but Missy put his arm over her shoulder and let him lean into her. She always did like the weight of his body on hers. He stumbled as they walked, but Missy didn't mind. She used the ax like a cane to help them along.

"Just a little further," Missy whispered. "We'll be safe an' warm, Gabe. You'll see." She thought about Pa. He was on the ground over there by that tree back there. His eyes were closed. Well maybe it would be okay for Jerry then too. Pa couldn't get mad at Jerry for sleeping if he was doing the same thing, could he?

"C-cold…" Gabriel whispered. "I was so cold. You came out to see me. You kept me warm…"

Missy grinned. "You were just skin and bones."

"First time I ever saw you…you did…"

They stepped into the clearing. Missy's grin got wider. "Yeah. Here we are."

The tree at the opposite end of the clearing was tall, very large, and old. It had been dead for as long as Missy could remember. The top of the tree had been sheared off in some storm long ago. She stared at what was left of the "spirit stay put" sign Pa had carved head high into the trunk so very long ago.

"I wanna…I wanna go back to the house…" Gabriel muttered.

"Maybe later." Missy sunk the ax into the ground so that the handle stuck up. Gabriel's knees buckled, but she held him up as she guided him over to one of the smaller trees. She managed to get him down on the ground, sat him up with his back to the trunk.

"M-Missy?" Gabriel stared up at her blankly. He sounded like a bewildered four year old. "We gonna…we gonna be all right?"

She cupped his face in her hands, stared loving into those stolen dark green eyes of his. "Sure we are. Pa's gonna be along directly. You'll see." She brushed her lips against his mouth. It wasn't that cold out there, but his broad shoulders shivered and his skin was cold.

Missy knew where she could get something to warm him right up.

She went over to the tree, ran her fingertips over the bark. The opening was still there. She used her knife to pick the mud that she'd stuffed around the edges, and when she'd picked away enough Missy pulled. She got the door open all the way on the second try. The opening was as tall as she was, but wider. Missy yanked the rest of it free, and then set it over on the ground.

Missy looked inside. There was more than enough moonlight coming in from the hole above.

Gabriel's corpse sat slumped over inside the tree trunk. He didn't have any eyes anymore. His jawbone was in his lap now, and all the soft parts of him were long gone. He looked about the same as he did when she saw him years ago. He was still wrapped up in that big ol' handmade quilt, the one that had black and yellow stars. The quilt formed a hood around his head. It had been winter the last time she saw him, and she wanted to make sure he was warm.

Missy needed the quilt. Behind her Gabriel, God's gift to her clothed in Dean Winchester's flesh, sat with his head down, his eyes closed as another tremor shook his body.

When she was ten, when she found this place, marking over that "spirit stay put" sign was the first thing she'd done. It had been cold out then, the dead of winter, and she knew why she'd come out that far away from the house.

A-Abra-ham, dun't…

She could hear Gabriel inside her head.

pl-please d-don't hurt me again…

Pa didn't have the heart to bury Gabriel in the cold ground, not after he realized his mistake and killed Jeremiah and that Jane bitch, so Abraham cut off a lock of Gabriel's hair to remember him by, bundled him up in one of those thick handmade quilts and brought the rest of him out here, put him inside the hollow tree trunk.

Abraham thought Gabriel would like the view. It was pretty.

Abraham didn't realize that Gabriel would get lonely, and drift back to the house.

Missy spent quite a lot of time out there. She touched him, kissed Gabriel's skin. It was leathery, but Missy didn't mind that either. His hair had fallen out by the time Missy found him. She would sneak away from the house, and she'd sit with him, and using what she saw from that picture in the bible she'd imagine long dark eyelashes, wide green eyes and tightly muscled freckled skin all over. He'd smile at her with that full, somewhat crooked mouth of hers, and Missy was content.

She would wait for him.

God would provide. Missy knew He would. And one fine night God provided the boy, that Dean Winchester, so gloriously alive and warm, confused and broken. Missy knew Gabriel would come to her. All good things come to those who wait.

Missy stepped inside the tree trunk, and carefully unwrapped the quilt. She had enough light to see by. Gabriel had drawn into himself a little over the years, and she didn't want to break any part of him off. She was careful as she worked.

Missy had forgotten one thing, though.

Everything has a beginning, a middle and an end.


Gabriel couldn't feel his fingers or his toes now. Dean was mad at him, and Gabriel couldn't understand why.

Should have done this years ago, Dean whispered, and Gabriel felt an electric spark of fear at the anger in Dean's voice. I'll see you in hell, you sonofabitch…

Dean settled down around Gabriel's heart, dull and heavy, and that muscle continued to pump, for now. It was slowing down.

Gabriel whimpered. He made a soft sound deep inside his throat, just as Sam Winchester stepped out into the clearing.


Sam stopped. "D-Dean? Oh God…Dean?"

Dean was pale, and his lips had a slightly bluish tinge around them. Sam stood frozen in place, He lowered his gun, stared at his brother. All he could see was Dean, sitting slumped over against that tree.

Sam stared in the opening fo that large dead tree over on the other side. He saw yellow bone, saw the remains of Old Gabriel staring sightlessly, a tuft of straw-like hair protuding out of his dark, leather-like scalp.

Missy screamed, high, wavering, and shrill. She ran at Sam, and she had that damn knife in her hand.

Sam glanced at the ax sticking out of the ground. He couldn't explain why he did what he did next. It was stupid. He dropped the gun. Doing that went against all the training John had ever drilled into him.

And Sam did it anyway.

I promised you, Dean, Sam thought as he ran forward to meet her. I promised I'd get you safe and clear.

The wooden handle of the long ax felt glass smooth underneath his fingertips. Sam gripped it and yanked it out of the ground. He felt rageful, and in some distant corner of his mind he could hear Dad giving a Marine lecture on how getting angry like that was useless in a fight.

Sam ignored John's voice, turned off the lecture in his head. Just like that.

Missy snarled at him, and Sam snarled right back at her.

Images flashed through his mind. He saw Bobby, John, bloodied and hurt, and most of all, Dean, trapped all these years because of this bitch and her family. She was the last one, and Sam was determined to take her with him if he had to.

They met in the center of the clearing.

Sam swung the ax at the same time Missy slashed at him with the knife.

Pain, sharp and piercing, stitched its way up from his collarbone to his chin. Sam didn't jerk backwards. He swung the ax, felt the pull in his shoulders as he put his entire weight behind it. Something yellow sparked behind his eyes. He felt bigger than life, full of rage and energy.

There was no resistance, no pull. Missed her, Sam thought.

Missy blinked. A thin red line formed around her neck. She stopped short, turned to look at Gabriel with a confused look on her face.

Her severed head hit the ground first. Her body followed seconds later.


It wasn't fair, and it wasn't right. He was warm, too warm, and it wasn't Missy, Missy wouldn't treat him like this, she wouldn't.

Gabriel heard the crack and pop of burning wood and fabric, smelled what little flesh and bone he had left in this world as it burned. He felt himself jerk upwards and out of the warm flesh, bobbled into the cool night air like a child's wayward balloon. Flames licked hungrily around his face and neck, and when Gabriel opened up his mouth to scream, the flames poured over his spirit and funneled down his wide open throat.

Nothing came out. No one heard him.


Dean took another shallow breath.

"Come back to me, Dean," Sam whispered softly. "Come back." He shifted his weight slightly, cradled Dean even more tightly. Dean's heart beat slowly against Sam's chest. The rhythm was weak, it stuttered, and once seemed to stop altogether. Sam held his breath, and after a moment's pause Dean's heart beat again, hesitant, unsure.

"Don't do this to me," Sam sobbed, and he sounded desperate and needy and right now he just didn't give a damn. His voice broke. "I got him, Dean. I got Gabriel. I burned him, so you'll just have to come back, you hear me? You have to come back. You can't leave me here alone with Dad, dumbass. You can't."

Dean breathed, slowly, weakly.

"Please, Dean. Please…"

Sam brushed his lips against Dean's forehead. He pleaded, he begged, he whispered "Don't leave, please don't die," over and over into Dean's skin until the words didn't make any sense anymore. He lost track of time, until he realized that Dean was still. Quiet.

Too quiet.

Sam lifted his head and stared down into the dazed, moss green eyes of his brother Dean, gone all these years and finally free.

"S-Sam…" Dean whispered hoarsely.


A/N: There are six more chapters to go. We're now entering the comfort and healing stage of this fic. Ellen, I will also tie up loose ends such as Meg, Jimmy and Castiel, and I'll explain about Katherine Hudak's death. I didn't kill her off trying to be ornery, there was a reason for it, and it has to do with Sam. And of course, Big John Winchester has a playdate with Nathan Beck. Next post will be Tuesday.