Chapter Thirty-Three

Time Changes People

TW/CW: Sexism in line with the century, death threats, blood

Scotland: August 1719

Sam had hoped they'd find a way home in a few days. It was optimistic, he could admit that, but the idea of being stuck living in close quarters with Fergus made him beg the universe for mercy.

The universe had laughed at him.

They'd been stuck here for two weeks now, and he was close to screaming. The only silver lining in this was Azrial. She adapted quickly to the time period, and was able to soothe Fergus's temper for the most part. She made a decent moderator and was also an amazing hunter. It was a skill he hadn't expected her to have considering angels didn't need to eat, but every time food started to get low a fresh kill was available in the morning. Hell, she was even able to prep, cook, and preserve the meat as needed! She'd practically taken over the house. Sam wasn't sure if Fergus was more annoyed or grateful for her meddling. It freed the man to work on projects that needed his attention, as well as help Sam work out a way to reverse Gabriel's spell. Of all the skills he'd expected the archangel to have, being a homemaker sure as hell wasn't one of them. He was just grateful to find Fergus was as lost as he was at this turn of events.

"Morning, Sam," Azrial said as he walked into the small kitchen.

"Morning. Where's Fergus?"

"Not up yet," she huffed. "I practically had to throw him up the stairs to get some sleep. That was around sunrise so he's probably not going to join us right away."

"Still desperate to get rid of us?"

She snorted, handing him a plate of food. "You know it."

He took a bite of the bread, allowing silence to fill the kitchen. This was such a screwy situation to be in. He thought the Mystery Spot and TV Land were bad, but Gabriel just had to outdo himself. The longer they spent in the past, the more Sam worried. What if they got hurt or he died?

"I need to go into town today," Azrial said. "We've gone through a ton of staples that would normally last Fergus weeks."

"Why can't he do it?" Azrial raised an eyebrow at the question, so Sam continued. "I'm just saying it's his house and we shouldn't be seen by too many people."

"We're also forcing ourselves on him," she pointed out. "The town may gossip, but there isn't much to worry about."

Sam knew exactly what they were gossiping about. Azrial had been wearing the MacLeod tartan since their first night, and he knew a few people had seen her when they came by to pick up orders or purchase clothing. He sighed, realizing he couldn't keep quiet about this anymore.

"Azrial, do you know why they are gossiping?"

"We appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the night," she laughed. "That's probably all the reason they need."

"That's probably part of it, but there is a bigger issue."

"And what's that?"

She sounded amused, but Sam doubted that would last. "It's because of how you're dressed."

"All right, you've lost me."

Sam took another bite of bread to avoid the conversation a few moments longer. Azrial seemed willing to wait, even if she was looking at him like he'd grown a second head.

"Okay, I could be wrong about this," he admitted. "The skirt you are wearing is the MacLeod family tartan. Rowena told me a bit about it while we were working on finding Gabriel. In our time, there wouldn't really be an issue with you wearing it. Here though...well, you've noticed how the people in town have different tartans?"

Azrial stared blankly at him, and Sam wondered if he'd have to spell it out for her. She took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"So they think I'm his family?"

"More likely his wife," Sam joked.

She frowned, but didn't look angry. "Well, that's good to know."

"I thought you'd be upset, so didn't want to mention it."

"I'm annoyed, but not angry." Azrial paused, and seemed to mull over her thoughts. "Crowley has pulled similar stunts before."

"That doesn't upset you?"

"It used to," she admitted. "But at the end of the day I knew what I was getting into. If he ever truly crossed a line with me, trust me when I say my foot would let him know."

Sam winced at the mental image. "Don't you feel micromanaged though?"

"Not really," she snorted. "I have a million and one things to worry about. If Crowley wants to take over my wardrobe or travel plans, then bless him. It's less I need to worry about."

"Is it the same way with Bobby?"

"I don't know. That's between Bobby and Crowley as far as I'm concerned. I know he was a bit annoyed by the new wardrobe that Crowley dropped on him in Japan, but it's up to Bobby to have that conversation."

The room fell into silence, and Sam focused on finishing his breakfast. He was free to research alone until Fergus woke up. After that the man may tell him to go do some chores or gather more supplies.

"Do you need help in town?" Sam asked as he handed over his empty plate.

"No, I'll be fine. Enjoy the peace while you have it."

"I'll see you later then. I want to start researching now."

Line Break

Fergus huffed as he pulled himself out of bed. The midday sun had woken him up and there was no point in trying to go back to sleep. He had to open the shop at some point today so the orders he'd finished could be picked up. He made his way downstairs, surprised by how quiet the house was. Was it too little to hope that the blasted spell had worn off on its own? He grabbed a bottle of scotch off the table, taking a swig as he sat down. The blasted woman had been stemming his drinking, which infuriated him to no end. She claimed he needed to be sober to help the giant research the spell. When he tried to argue with her, she just dismissed him! If this was what having a wife was like he was damn glad he'd skipped the experience when having his son.

"Drinking already?"

The dry question made him growl against the bottle before taking another defiant sip. It was the only one he managed before the bottle flew out of his hand and into Azrial's.

"I need you sober for this conversation."

"And what conversation is that?" he grunted.

She sighed, dropping a plate of food in front of him before taking the seat across from him. He didn't understand her. One moment she seemed utterly disinterested in him and other times she seemed genuinely worried about his well being. It was maddening, and he wanted her gone yesterday because of it.

"Sam and I had an interesting conversation about tartans this morning." He stiffened at her conversational tone, not bothering to meet her gaze.

"That so?"

"Mhm. Apparently your mother was kind enough to give him a mini lesson on them."

Fergus snorted, stabbing a piece of deer with his fork. He hated the fact Sam knew that damn bitch. Being stuck with the man researching was a chore since every other thing they found was met with; "Rowena said this wouldn't work," or "Are you sure? Rowena said this would work better." It was bloody infuriating and made him damn near homicidal.

"Good for him," he growled.

He finally met the blasted woman's eyes, and was surprised she didn't look furious. Instead, there was a mixture of sadness and understanding. He hated it. It was far too close to pity for his taste. He still hadn't riddled out what the hell she was either, which made this situation all the worse.

"Why did you demand I wear this?"

He slammed his fork down, glaring at the calm woman. "Cause the clothes you had were shite and covered in blood."

She simply nodded at his outburst, drumming her fingers against the table. "That's it?" The prodding question made him growl, and he went to snag the scotch back from her. She moved it further out of his reach with a smirk. "I'll give it back if you're honest."

"Fuck you," he snarled. "This is my damn house."

"It is," she said. "But right now I'm stuck here and don't really want to deal with a drunk Scotsman."

"Fine, if ya wanna exchange secrets then tell me why ya reek of my magic! And why the hell do ya carry my brand?"

Silence lapsed over them, and Fergus was confident he'd cornered her. Azrial tilted her head, staring thoughtfully at him. He hated her. She looked innocent, but he knew deep in his bones she could kill him with little effort. She was a threat he was being forced to live with and it kept him constantly on edge.

"Give me your word that you'll answer my question if I answer yours."

The ultimatum was a punch to the face. He shot to his feet, ripping the bottle off the table before Azrial could stop him. She didn't jump or show any surprise at his outburst. He glared at her, taking another swig of the scotch.

"I ain't gonna play games with you."

"Is it a game?" she asked. "Or maybe you're afraid of the answer."

"You think I'm a coward?"

She laughed, running a hand down her face. "Does everything have to be a fight with you?" Her honest question made him freeze, unsure how to respond. She stood up slowly and pulled her left sleeve up. "You're asking about this, right?"

He frowned at her wrist, watching the magic coil under her skin like a lazy snake. "Yes."

"You know what your future holds, so I doubt mentioning this will make a difference." She paused, and Fergus hated how on edge it made him. He needed answers like he needed water. He'd planned to make his deal for years, and it had blown up in his face. If this woman had information that could salvage this mess, he'd do almost anything for it despite how much she infuriated him.

"Go on then," he ordered.

"Pushy," she chuckled. "Give me your word to answer my question, and I'll tell you."

He narrowed his eyes, hating how she remained so calm. "How do ya know I'll keep my word?"

"I guess I don't," she shrugged. "Which means you have nothing to lose."

She was playing him. She had to be. Yet there wasn't a lick of deceit in her words or body language. "Fine. Ya have my word."

She smiled warmly, and he hated how it made him relax. This woman was dangerous, and yet his magic seemed to sing in her presence. It cried out to be closer to her, to claim her, possess her. He tried to ignore it, but it still got the best of him at times. Like that first night where he'd kissed her, unable to handle the overwhelming urge from his magic being one such situation.

"I don't know what deal you made, but the outcome is always a stint in Hell." He grunted, surprised she didn't know. The blasted woman seemed to know far too much about him. "You become a demon, a rather powerful one."

"And what does that have to do with ya bearing a mark from me?"

"You haven't guessed?" she asked. "I'm contracted to you."

A pregnant pause filled the room at her admission. He stared at her, desperately searching for a lick of deceit. There was none. Nothing to show she was lying or toying with him. What could this woman possibly gain from a demon deal? She dripped power, and unlike him he was pretty sure she came from wealth. She had a familial bond with the giant, and he'd caught them talking fondly about their companions.

"Why the hell would ya-?"

"Ah ah," she cut over him. "I answered your question, now you owe me an answer."

She was looking at him expectantly, and he hated how he wanted to respond. A large part of him wanted to prove that her faith in him was well founded. What was the point though? She didn't belong here and didn't really have anything to offer him.

"I don't owe ya anything," he spat. "Not my fault ya were fool enough to answer."

Her face fell, the first negative show of emotion he'd seen from her. It made her eyes darker, more menacing. There was proof that she could easily become his enemy, and he clung to it.

"I see," she said quietly. "Well, I'll leave you to your drink then."

She left the house, silence falling over the room. Fergus frowned at the scotch, anger burning in his chest. He threw the bottle, satisfied when it shattered to pieces against the wall. Who was she to judge him? She was nobody. Nothing. A non-entity that would vanish from his life as quickly as she appeared. Even if she was telling the truth, a demon contract meant nothing. She was likely one in a million that he'd damned to the same fate he was set to experience. The only thing that made her different was this damn time travel, and that would soon be set right.

Line Break

Sam dropped his head to the table, sighing in annoyance. He was once more stuck with Fergus, and the man was in a horrid mood. It had started a few days ago and now stuck around like a bad smell. He didn't blame Azrial for practically running to watch the shop when Fergus was rattling off everything that needed to be done today. They were seated next to the wall that joined with the shop, and the muffled conversations made it hard to focus. Sam longed for Bobby's living room. The quiet space with easy access to coffee was like Heaven. He was pretty sure being stuck in Fergus's tiny living space was Hell. A loud crash on the other side of the wall made Sam frown.

"What was that?"

"She probably just dropped something."

Sam rolled his eyes at the terse reply. He strained to hear anything else, but it was silent for several moments. He turned back to the book in front of him, but a scream had his head snapping up. He was already at the door joining the house to the shop before Fergus got up. He slammed the door open, his eyes searching for a threat. A brunette woman was kneeling on the floor and Sam froze when her panicked eyes met his.

"She jus' collapsed while we was talk'in. I only turned ma back for a moment!"

The frantic defense had Sam rushing forward, sliding into position next to the woman. Azrial wasn't responsive, and it looked like her head had hit the counter. There was blood dripping down her mouth, and a spattering of it down her shirt.

"Shit, shit," Sam whispered. He could see her chest rising, but her pulse was rapid. Her skin was hot to the touch and she looked paler than normal. "Come on Azrial, open your eyes."

"What the bloody hell is going on?"

The demand made the woman next to him squeak. Sam glared at Fergus, anger coursing through him.

"She's hurt," he snarled. "Make yourself useful or get out of my damn way!"

Sam picked up Azrial, ignoring the surprised woman as he stormed back into the house. He hoped Crowley remembered what a fucking dick he was when all this was over, because he wouldn't be taking shit from the demon about this situation. Azrial groaned in his arms, her eyes opening slightly. They were flashing between silver and blue at a rapid pace. She coughed, more blood splattering down her shirt.

"Who?" she whispered.

"I'm here," he said. "Just hold on, I'm gonna lay you down."

She whimpered as he took the rickety steps two at a time. He could feel her shivering and tried to ignore his mounting panic.

"I want Crowley," she gasped out as he laid her on the bed. "Please, it's so cold."

Sam inhaled sharply. "Azrial, do you know where you are?"

Her eyes shut as she gasped, clawing at her chest. "Please, make it stop. It's so cold, why is it so cold?"

"You're burning up." He looked around frantically for something to dab away the sweat dripping down her face. "Tell me what to do," he begged. "I've never seen an angel react like this."

"I want Crowley," she sobbed. Her eyes opened, and they were still flashing rapidly between silver and blue. "Please, I need him."

"Azrial, where are you?" he demanded. "Tell me the year."

"The manor," she mumbled deliriously. "95."

"Full year," Sam ordered as he ripped the bottom of his shirt. He began wiping the sweat off her face as Azrial devolved into another coughing fit. The spray of blood hit his chest and Sam winced.

"19...95?"

Sam glanced down at her. "What's the last thing you remember?"

She didn't respond right away, rolling over as she sobbed. She shut her eyes tightly, rocking back and forth. Sam struggled to get her to lay back down, but it was worthless. She was crying too much and was hyperventilating at this point.

"Hell," she whimpered. "Alastair."

"Fuck," Sam muttered.

"Did she say Hell?"

Sam shot to his feet at the cold question. "Get out, now!"

Fergus narrowed his eyes, clearly not cowed. "This is my house, boy. Now explain."

"She's in shock," Sam snarled. "I don't know what caused it, but I don't need you making it worse!"

"Ya called her an angel."

Sam froze, cursing himself. "It doesn't matter."

"Oh, I think it does. An angel could break my deal."

Sam wanted to punch the man. Was that all he cared about? Crowley would be hitting the damn roof right now. Hell, so would Bobby.

"Nothing can break a demon contract except the holder," Sam said. "Next time don't sell your soul for stupid shit."

It was a low blow, especially since he didn't actually know what Fergus had sold his soul for. The man's eyes narrowed before his wrist. Sam didn't have time to respond as his back connected with the wall. It left him breathless, and he couldn't overpower Fergus's magic.

"I'm sick of ya." The threat in the man's voice was palpable. Sam tried to focus and shove the magic back at Fergus, but it only resulted in the pressure on his chest doubling. The man laughed, eyeing him critically. "Seems my bitch of a mother didn't teach ya how to defend ya'self, did she?"

"Fuck you!" Sam spat. "You have no idea what you're doing."

"I'm getting rid of two nuisances," Fergus said. "Something I should have done from the start."

Sam continued to struggle against Fergus's magic, fear washing over him as the man approached Azrial. How could this bastard be so different from Crowley? Sam's eyes widened, and he did the only thing he could think of.

"You're her lover!" he shouted. "In the future you two are together. She's calling for you!"

The man froze, frowning at Azrial. She was getting worse by the minute, and Sam needed to help her. If Fergus tried to hurt her, there was no telling what her instinctive response would be.

"Crowley?"

Azrial's whimpered question pushed Sam on. "See? Crowley is you. The demon you'll become."

"Seems coinvent ya're revealing this now."

"You can sense it!" Sam snapped. "I know you can."

Fergus frowned, moving closer to the bed. He reached down and pushed Azrial's sweat soaked hair out of her face. Sam couldn't hear Azrial's reaction, but he saw her hand reach out to Fergus before it fell to her side. She curled in on herself, sobbing in pain as she spit up more blood.

"Tend to her."

Fergus's emotionless voice shot through Sam. The man exited the room, slamming the door behind him and Sam sagged to the floor. That had been too damn close. They had to leave as soon as Azrial was ready. It didn't matter that they hand't found a way home yet. This was too dangerous for both of them.

Line Break

Azrial blinked awake, groaning as her head pounded. The last thing she remembered was helping a customer in Fergus's shop before a wave of pain crashed into her. It rivaled the pain she experienced when she ripped out her grace, and it shut down most of her higher functioning. She tried to sit up, but a gentle hand stopped her.

"Hey, take it easy."

"Sam?" she muttered. "The hell is going on?"

He sighed, lighting a candle near the bed. "I was hoping you could tell me. You've been out for two days."

"Fuck," she muttered. "I don't know what happened, but I still feel weak. Like someone gave me the angelic equivalent of a kidney punch."

Sam frowned, running his eyes over her. "You were spitting up blood."

"Well, that's not sanitary."

"Azrial, please be serious."

She frowned at his worried tone, pushing herself into a sitting position with her back against the wall. "What's going on?"

"After you passed out, Fergus threatened to kill us."

Azrial took a deep breath, mentally counting back from ten. "Of fucking course he did." She slowly tried to stand up, but her legs were shaking. Sam grabbed her arm, slowly helping her up. "We'll leave," she promised him. "We can't stay here after he threatened you.

"What about you?" Sam demanded.

"He couldn't kill me if he tried," she scoffed. "But I won't risk your life. Come on, I'm gonna go shove my foot up his ass and then we can leave."

Sam looked skeptical, but thankfully didn't argue. Azrial just wanted to be done, and stop dealing with this revolving door of bullshit. At this point she didn't know whether to be angrier at herself for giving Fergus the benefit of doubt, or Gabriel for putting her in this situation. Either way, it was time to put an end to it.

The next update is Saturday, October 8, 2022