Writer's Block: A literary masterpiece
Late night boredom, so I answered some Writer's Block questions! It seemed to work, as my mind isn't foggy at the moment. Beware, TL;DR all under here. Like seriously, I have all these feelings about a stupid fictional show and must get rid of them.
( Blah blah under here and some spoilers for the latest season of Supernatural, and for the upcoming season. )
( Blah blah under here and some spoilers for the latest season of Supernatural, and for the upcoming season. )
He's standing in a warehouse alone, and he's covered in blood.
He hadn't been alone long, since the vampires strewn on the floor were freshly dead. Sam is standing there, and it's a bit unnerving. Gabriel reaches out with his voice, imploring Sam to hear, but Sam just stands there. He tries again and again, and just as he is about to give up Sam looks up and says "Yeah, I hear you. What do you want?"
That's not the reaction Gabe expected. Anger maybe, for being tricked once more, into thinking he was dead, followed by a long suffering sigh and a 'Fine, sure, let's figure something out.' but certainly not 'What do you want?'
Help, help, he stresses with all his being, Grace swirling around him, caressing Sam, urging him to please let him borrow his body, just for long enough to maybe use a spell to locate a more suitable vessel, or until he is strong enough to find one on his own.
Sam seems unmoved. "Why should I help you?" he asks, and Gabe notes that he doesn't seem angry, or adverse to the idea even. He sounds blank.
Gabe promises allegiance and Sam doesn't move, he promises that he'll leave him alone forever and he yawns, he promises to never kill his brother again and Sam doesn't even blink. Something is very not right here, but Gabe is desperate. Finally, when he promises him power, Sam crosses his arms and nods.
Gabe floods into him the moment the agreement is set, stretching himself into the corners and feeling sensation return to him. His limbs are long now, Sam's limbs, and it's not a God's body, but there is power in it, if only the fingerprints left by his brother. It seems he had ridden Sam for some time. He'd have time to ask about that, later. He sighs, and says in Sam's voice, "Ahh, thanks, Moose. I'm feeling better already!"
His (Sam's) voice echoes in the warehouse and a resounding silence meets him. His borrowed face falls. He's alone but for the corpses, and Sam's soul hasn't been in for a very long time.
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