God willing, I'll see you on the other side

[hunter_returns]

Sam had been driving most of the night, energized by a combination of caffeine and elation. He knew how to do it. After two, nearly three years, he finally knew how to repay a very old debt. Dean was taking care of things with Benny and frankly, the less Sam thought about that, the happier he was going to be. At least this time it was an amicable

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[hesnoangel]

Maybe it was because Sam had dragged him out of limbo or because this was something his lovely brothers had messed up, but Gabriel found himself worrying about the human. The notion wasn't completely new. After all, many of his trickster episodes had also been inspired by a fleeting, but honest pity with the victims of his future playthings. If he'd not cared about the damage they did, there would have been no reason to punish. Still, this got a bit deeper under his skin.

"Yeah, after." Gabriel's curt consent hopefully transports that Sam doesn't have to elaborate if he'd rather not care to live through unspeakable acts of torture again. Gabriel loved his brother, but he wasn't blind to what he'd become. He wouldn't have taken a blade to him if that was the case.

Obviously, on a scale of "fine" to "crap", Sam was past the p and then some. "Just so you know, if you pass out while ghostboy chases us through a haunted house, I have no idea what to do with him other than distract him. I'll think of something children like. Maybe I'll will some clowns into existence." He raised to his feet. Offering Sam a shoulder to cry on seemed a bit inappropriate, considering his family relations, so he'd try something a step below. "I'll go find you some coffee."

[hunter_returns]

It wasn't complete support, but it was enough. A quiet acknowledgement of that hurt meant more than Sam expected it to. At least it was better than denial. Not that he blamed Dean for it, his coping mechanisms had pretty much unraveled over the last couple of years.

"Knew I shouldn't have mentioned clowns," he muttered, rummaging in his duffel for clean clothes and his laptop. "There's cash in my wallet for coffee. Breakfast too if you're hungry."

And before he lost his nerve, Sam looked up as Gabriel neared the door. "Hey. I.. thanks." For what, he's not sure. For sticking around, for making him laugh, for giving a crap.. maybe all of the above.

[hesnoangel]

"If I can't make a coffee machine bow to my will anymore without feeding it coins, I'm going to quit the archangel gig and make a living as an insurance salesman," Gabriel said, mock-offended, as he took Sam's wallet and flung it onto the bed next to him. He ran a hand through his hair to give it a hint of being oderly, then, and tugged his shirt straight.

However, already halfway on his way outside, Gabriel stopped in the doorframe. Thanks. Thanks for what?

"You must really like coffee," he said, with a crooked smile. "Hey, I was wondering, as a rule for a sleep-challenged angel like me - if you're starting to kick off your blanket like its a kraken, would you rather I ignore you until you threaten to break your skull on the headboard or shall I interrupt your beauty sleep?" It was easy to make it sound light-hearted, even if watching Sam claw into the pillow had been anything but fun.

[hunter_returns]

Sam straightened, clean clothes tucked under his arm. He chuckled as Gabriel tossed his wallet on the bed. "Insurance salesman? Dude, you'd own the company in under an hour. Probably be running the country in a week."

Yet again, Gabriel made him laugh, making him feel far better than he should be feeling given the situation. "Wake me up. Please. Unless, you know, you want to test your hand at treating whatever happens after I fall out of bed." Hurt rib, wrist, even knocked his head fairly hard once.

Naturally his nightmares were going to be worse after calling up the kind of power required to resurrect Gabriel, Sam figured as he closed the bathroom door and headed into the shower. But he could occupy himself with the job, with Gabriel, and bury those memories again. Working with an archangel. This was going to be interesting.

[hesnoangel]

Gabriel had to grin. He found that happened a lot around Sam. Amazing spirit for someone who seemed so broken in his unguarded moments. It was one of the things that fascinated him with humans. They were so... hard to destroy. Which was a funny thing to say about members of a species that dropped within a short eighty years, give or take, basically a blink of an eye. They tried, though. Not all of them to a sensible or honourable end. But they trudged on regardless. Angels were so quick to twist themselves around the rules until every ounce of personality had vanished into an interpretation of faith and destiny about as vivid as a lawbook and cemented that way by centuries of dumb obedience.

Of course, Sam was a very special example for humans, too. Gabriel couldn't describe that as well, though. He'd have to watch him for a little bit longer. Even by this point, though, there was a sense that if he allowed Sam to die, something small, but worthwhile would leave the earth. And not just because he was a three times saviour of the world.

Gabriel found a collection of vending machines in the main building by the receptionist's desk. Thankfully for his pride, when he laid his flat hand against it, it did follow his wishes and gave him two coffee in plastic cups. From the neighbouring exemplar, he selected a sandwich with tomatoe and salad, the closest thing to healthy that he could find (a faint echo, but he had to forcefeed Sam something). As he stood waiting for the cups, a thin woman in a stained shirt opened the door, earning a tired look from the receptionist.

"How can I help you?"

"You... you don't have any problems with the tv, do you?"

"Not that I know of," said the receptionist, who was now engrossed in her magazine again. "If it's broken, we'll send someone over. Which number?"

"Four, but, it's not... it's..." She paused, nervous. "You had no problems?"

"We're in five," Gabriel piped up. "We've also had," he blinked, "image interference. Pretty weird, actually."

"Oh." Her shoulders sagged slightly, though her expression was still tight. "Well, it doesn't really matter. Ah." She shook her head, and, without another word, left.

It took him five minutes longer to return, as his way back included a detour to have a look at number four and the car parked in front of it. However, he decided to discuss the next step, if there was to be one, with his partner in crime. Placing (accidentally) the sugared cup of coffee on the table with the Weight Watchers sandwich, he returned to the bed, flicking on the tv as he listened to the shower running. Today's program: Political talkshow with creepy kid standing by the host that was currently being screamed at from all sides.

[hunter_returns]

Freshly showered and shaved and feeling a little less like Death, Sam was stretching out his back when he heard Gabriel make his way back into the room. And he probably shouldn't be smiling like that either, but hey. There it was. Damp hair curling around his neck, he poked his head out into the main room.

Coffee and a sandwich. Bless him.

"Hey, thanks." Then a sip of coffee that was more sugary coffee syrup had Sam grimacing and pushing the paper cup at Gabriel. "Dude. That's a lot of sugar. Here." His coffee was black, dark and absolutely perfect. "Oh god that's good. Thanks."

Sam sat down on the corner of the bed, elbows resting on his knees. A quick infusion of coffee and he'll be good to go. "Same as last night?" Without the clowns (mercifully) he could get a closer look at the spectre, see if his clothes or appearance will clue him into any details. "Clothes like that it's got to be recent. I'll start checking recent obits, see what I can find."

[hesnoangel]

"Sugar?" Gabriel had waited for the Republican candidtate to pull a gun for a couple of minutes now (any second now) and looked up when Sam approached, cup in hand. "Must be mine. Even archangels make the occassional mistake." Like swapping coffee cups. And starting the apocalpyse. Although he didn't think that his brothers considered that one a mistake, but they were wrong and bastards and Gabriel set the thought of them firmly aside.

Sitting by his side, Sam looked like he'd escaped from the set of some chick flick (read: softcore for women), his hazel hair in a tussle. the occassional damp patch of skin making the shirt cling to his muscular form, still smelling like soap and fresh water. It was a bit distracting, really, and Gabriel found that even the ghost kid couldn't keep his attention from the sight.

"Dad had nothing to do with your coffee," Gabriel said as he sipped his sugar soup and gestured at the screen with the cup. "The very same. And I met the woman from number four. Since she was running out in her jammies at five o'clock in the morning looking like she'd met the boogeyman and complaining about the tv, I'd say she's either missing her favourite Star Trek episode or she's seen the thing, too."

[hunter_returns]

Politics. It's always the same argument, and in the face of what he and his brother have seen? It all seems rather pointless.

Sam glanced towards Gabriel as he spoke. With a clearer head, he can't help but notice finer details. The faint curl of his lips, the way he smells faintly of burned sugar and ozone, and the way the weak light from the bathroom made his eyes gleam.

He.. was in trouble. A lot of trouble if the surge of warmth in his chest was any indication. "No, but you did." With a friendly shoulder nudge, Sam sipped at the coffee. "It's perfect, thank you."

Right. Work. He nodded. "So more people are seeing it. There's got to be a reason he's showing up on television screens. Anything pinging on your radar?"

[hesnoangel]

"It's kind of sad that you get this happy about instant coffee." The words had meant to be spoken with his usual humorous tone, but a glimpse of something more honest shone through it. Between nightmares of hell torture camp and a day job of trying to find out why dead children were ghosting through the idiot box, perhaps coffee was a highlight of his morning.

For a second, the archangel cocked his head, staring at the tv. "Nothing I can say. I'm not tuned in to your ghosties, though, and I'm still in Archangel 5.1, Demo Version mode."

He craned his neck. "Do we have a radio here? If this is wider, someone has to have noticed. If it's just this hotel, my dear Sherlock, then research might not take so long."

[hunter_returns]

"Simple pleasures, what can I say?" There's a vague note of melancholy in his voice. He doesn't get the big happy, so he had to find it in smaller things; a good laugh, good coffee, a smile.

"Stuck in demo mode?" Sam sips thoughtfully at his coffee. "Then the old fashioned way it is."

"The radio in the Impala might pick up more, but there's an EMF detector in my gear bag too. Should let us know if the spirit is closer or at least centered around the motel."

[hesnoangel]

"EMF? Extranatural magic... fillies? A unicorn detector? You know, I always wanted one of those."

Gabriel finished his coffee and got off the bag, opening the one that had made the most clinking noises while being carried. Upon unzipping it, he was greeted by a collection of blades, guns, metal rods, wooden stakes, two bottles of holy water, holy oil (his hands steered clear of that pitcher) and whatever else had been collected by the brothers.

"You planning to take over a middle-sized developing nation for afternoon entertainment?" He dug through the variants of weapons and blades, running his fingers over most all of them with curiosity.

[hunter_returns]

Sam very nearly choked on his coffee before setting it down and bursting into startled laughter. He could get used to Gabriel being around like this and he doesn't even try to stop the laughter, just lets it all run its course and revels in how easy it is.

"No, dude. Not even close. It detects electromagnetic fields, tells us if a ghost is around screwing up the works. And if it's showing up on televisions, I think that's a fairly safe bet."

He reached into a side pocket of the bag and pulled it out, fiddling with the dials while Gabriel mucked with the weapons. "Hey, never know what you're going to run into. A had a salt and burn that turned into a ghoul hunt that me and Dean spent three days slogging through."

The device flared to life with a squelch of activity. "Yeah, think it's close by."

[hesnoangel]

"Beginner's mistake," Gabriel said with a shrug of his shoulders, grinning at Sam over a sawed-off shot gun that he had pulled from the bag. This was fun, he realised. Dead children weren't, but working with Sam was. It was also interesting not to be hiding for once. Oh, he enjoyed costume play and deception, he did, but after not hearing one's actual name for a thousand years, there was a point where the sound would have been welcome.

"Sounds like a story you should tell me sometime. What's a salt and burn?" The archangel asked, bemused, as he put the shotgun back down and leaned past Sam's arm to look at the EMF (he would have peered over his shoulder, but the shoulder in question was too high up), then snatched his from his hand with a quick movement of his arm.

"Is it like a witching rod?" With the small gadget in hand, he crossed the room and opened the door to see if he could find differences in signal, stopped, however, as he looked up from it.

"Seems Hellboy has managed to clear the first building..." The car from number four was just pulling out of the parking lot.

[hunter_returns]

He snorted out a laugh as Gabriel peered over at the device. There’s something to be said for enthusiasm right? “That’s a story that requires beer. Probably a few of them.”

Swapping stories over a beer. He hadn’t done that in ages, and Sam couldn’t help but wonder what kind of stories he might get out of Gabriel in that situation. Could be worth it. He fiddled with the settings, ready to home in on the source of the disturbance when Gabriel plucked it out of his hand. “Dude, I was..”

The amused smile faded as Gabriel indicated the signals were coming from the car itself. Oh damn. Dropping down, Sam shoved the shotgun back into the duffel and crossed the room in two large strides. “Come on. We’re gonna have to follow. It’s obviously not centered here.” Friendly banter faded in favor of professional hunter.

They had a job to do.

[hesnoangel]

Despite not being the one with the EMF in hand, Sam had managed to gather the situation a second quicker than Gabriel did, still staring at the machine as the car moved out onto the street towards the highway.

That was a new side. He'd seen Sam pissed and desperate and sad, and now also amused and scared, but never authoritative. "You have no respect for rank at all, do you, mud monkey?" Gabriel joked as he followed Sam out of the room, slamming the door and turning the lock by pressing his thumb against the keyhole.

This time, without the giant wings to fold around him, he slid in to ride shotgun. The radio turned on when the car came to live.

".. and this was Sarah with the weather," a faint noise in the background as they pull up, "it looks like some more rainy days," again, this time more distinct, "so get out your raincoats and your umbrellas," 'mommy'.

"Kiddo emigrated."

[hunter_returns]

Gabriel might be an archangel and part time trickster with millenia of experiences that Sam couldn’t even begin to fathom. But when it came to dealing with ghosts? Sam was the expert. He shot him a grin over his shoulder, eyes alive with the chase. Respect? He does remember who he’s talking to, right? “C’mon slowpoke. Let’s move. Ghosts don’t move like this. They’re usually tied to something.”

His gear stored in the back seat, Sam gunned the Impala to life, waiting for Gabriel to slide in next to him. The radio pulled him up short and he frowned as he caught sight of the car and started to follow.

“They don’t usually do that. Normally it sticks with one location or one object.” He tapped the steering wheel, thinking. “You said you saw the driver? Someone else looking kind of freaked about seeing him?”

Wraith? It’s not a death echo. It has to be something..

“Maybe it’s connected to the car,” he mused. “We’ll have to get closer.”