Road to the Apocalypse 3/5
Part II: A Matter of Loaf and Death
“Well, that was almost a complete waste of time,” Gabriel said as he slid into the booth at the diner he and Sam stopped at to grab a bite to eat on their way out of town.
“Ya think?” Sam said as he sat down across from him and picked up a menu, pushing his still wet hair out of his eyes. “I can’t ever remember a circus that was worth my time. And then you had to go a make me an attraction in a freak show!”
“Carnival, Sam,” Gabriel sighed glancing over his own menu. “How many times do I have to tell you that it was a carnival? Besides, you weren’t the main event; you were just an understudy for one of the stars in the show. Not a very good one from what I heard either. You were supposed to wrestle Orville the Octopus, not swim away from him every chance you got. And Orville is just a regular guy in a bad costume. You were lucky I decided to stay on Minnie’s good side and leave the real squid in Scotland. But Sumy and I appreciated the time together and you earned us two hundred bucks, so I guess it was worth it. Plus, I got Orville’s wife to take pictures of you.”
“I did wrestle hi-…You did what?!” Sam exclaimed, throwing down his menu as Gabriel just smiled at him. “I want everything…the pictures, the memory disc, everything…now!”
"Too late, Sammy. Some of those photos are out there in cyberspace already," the angel answered. Gabriel ignored Sam’s frantic sputtering as their waitress arrived to take their order. The angel glanced up at the brown haired, brown-eyed beauty and threw her a winning smile. “Well hello there, Princess. I guess it’s your lucky day, stumbling upon a couple of handsome gents like us.”
The waitress clearly was suppressing an urge to roll her eyes and simply asked, “What can I get you?”
“I’ll take chocolate chip pancakes with a side of you,” Gabriel answered waggling his eyebrows. “Oh, and a strawberry milkshake, too!”
“Um, yeah…I will have a grilled chicken sandwich and a side salad with a glass of water,” Sam said having calmed down slightly. He threw the waitress an apologetic look before glaring at the angel. As the waitress left, he hissed, “What was that all about? Can’t you keep it in check for even a few days? Her name wasn’t even Princess; her name tag said Dorothy for goodness sake.”
“You are about as much fun as one of my brothers, you know that?” Gabriel remarked dryly. “You and your stupid rules; I am getting sick of them. Besides, you said I couldn’t pick up any women. I haven't lifted a finger where she is concerned; I'm just flirting with her. And since she is a princess in my book that is what I am going to call her.”
“She didn’t seem to appreciate the nickname,” Sam observed as he decided to turn the tables on the angel. “Or maybe it was just you she didn’t appreciate. Perhaps I am more her type.”
Gabriel stared at Sam briefly before he snorted, “Yeah, right, and Cas and your brother are on an airplane to Tokyo as we speak.” As he was talking, he pulled a cell phone of his pocket and began scrolling through his messages.
Surprised, Sam asked, “Wait, you have an iPhone…and you know how to use it? Cas can barely answer a basic cell phone.”
“Yeah, well in case you hadn’t realized it, Cas doesn’t get out much. And I am my Dad’s Messenger. Even if I haven’t been around Heaven to deliver many news bulletins recently doesn’t mean I haven’t kept up with the newest way they’re being delivered.”
“So who are you emailing?” Sam asked, curious to who the archangel was actually in touch with.
Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Not that it is any of your business, but I am actually tweeting. I have to update the seventy thousand followers of @Candyman17,” he said with a smile.
“You have a Twitter account…with followers?” Sam said shaking his head.
“Of course, kiddo. Why not? My life is waaay more interesting than yours. Though plenty of my followers do seem to think you make a better Sasquatch than some of the other hoaxes they've seen,” the angel answered. Winking at Sam, he added, “Hey, look @XRoadsKing thinks you look like a moose!”
"I...what...you posted those freak show pictures of me on Twitter?" Sam stammered. "Take. Them. Down. NOW."
"Aw come on, kiddo," he answered. "I didn't mean any harm. It was all in fun."
Sam just shook his head in surrender and changed the subject, asking, "So, what was Sumarlíđr talking about back there before I got tossed into the tank with a fake octopus? What kind of meeting?"
"Nothing good," Gabriel admitted as the waitress briefly returned with their drinks. "Thor has apparently caught wind that the pagan gods are less than thrilled that the Apocalypse is happening and they want to have their own little executive retreat to decide what to do about it."
Sam blanched at the thought of throwing a group of pagan gods into the mix of all they were dealing with right now. "And this 'she' that Sumarlíđr mentioned. Who is that?" Sam pressed as the waitress brought them their food, and Gabriel gave her a wry smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"No one you want to be dealing with kiddo," the angel answered as he poured chocolate syrup all over his pancakes. "No one I want to be dealing with either quite frankly, but I suppose it will need to be done at some point. First, however, I want to drown my sorrows in sugar for awhile. And then we need to make a detour and go see an old family friend to get some advice.”
~*~
Sam was beat. Wrestling an octopus, fake or not, in a large tank of water, will do that to a man. So even though they had only been on the road for four hours since they left Ely, Nevada, he pulled over in Las Vegas for the night. Despite Gabriel’s pleading to stay in something a little more posh, Sam decided to stop at a small motel on the outskirts of town. Put out that he wasn’t staying at the Bellagio, Gabriel decided he was going to toy with Sam by registering the two of them at the motel under the aliases of Duke Johnson and Chester Hooton. Sam said nothing when the clerk, an older gentleman who appeared to be in his sixties, bit back a smile and raised an eyebrow, but he did question the angel once they arrived in the room. Gabriel explained that they were a couple of vaudeville performers he knew back at the turn of the twentieth century that used a fake ghost to scam people out of their money. “I tried to set them up on a prank for all the scams they pulled by shipping them off to Alaska without their stolen money,” Gabriel said shaking his head. “But somehow, they came out of it smelling like roses after they got rid of two real thugs! One of them even managed to marry the daughter of a man who owned a gold mine, if you can imagine that!”
“So why did the clerk give us a strange look when we checked in?” Sam asked, still not satisfied with the angel’s answer.
“I don’t know, kiddo,” Gabriel remarked flippantly as he snapped his fingers to change into a gold lame shirt and black leather pants, something he felt was more fitting for Vegas. “Maybe you look more like a Jimmy Page than a Chester Hooton; or maybe you just don’t look comfortable in your skin. Dad knows, I wouldn’t if I were you seeing how far it has to stretch to get around those long bones of yours.”
“And I am pretty sure that your outfit went out of style the same time Disco did,” Sam retorted.
“Hey, this is Vegas,” the shorter man said with a smirk as he slid on a pair of sunglasses. “I will totally fit in here. And besides, I have been around long enough to know that everything old becomes new again at some point.”
Gabriel tried to convince Sam to join him on taking in some of the sights of Vegas since they were there, but Sam just shook his head as he stifled a yawn. All he wanted to do was take a shower and hit the sack. But he had left his duffle bag out in the car.
Gabriel watched him as he went out to the parking lot to retrieve it from the trunk. Casually glancing at the back seat of the Impala before heading to the trunk, Sam had to do a double-take. He knew the archangel had been snacking a lot, and had also been disregarding his rules, but couldn't believe what he saw. How did one angel, especially one so small, manage to accumulate so much trash in such a short amount of time? If they ever found Dean, he was going to kill him for allowing his baby to get this messed up, especially by Gabriel. Sam flung open the back door and desperately started trying to pick up all the candy wrappers and soda containers that had found their way into the back seat. He quickly realized however, that it was like trying to sift through dry sand. He was just burying himself in a seemingly endless pile of garbage. He went back into the hotel room and grabbed a trash bag without saying a word to the archangel. Nearly twenty minutes later, he finally found the back seat of the car, but there was still a significant amount of refuse on the floor.
"Whatchya doing?" he heard Gabriel ask casually behind him. Sam spun around.
"Cleaning up the mess you made," he accused, as he pointed his finger at Gabriel. "Haven't you ever used a trash can before in the thousands of years you have been around? Dean is going to commit fratricide if he sees this mess. Then he is going to find a way to kill you, or at least permanently remove you from this plane of existence."
Sam turn back around to keep working on the cleaning the car, only to feel the weight of the bag in his hands evaporate. When he looked down he found that all of the trash he had cleaned up had been removed from the bag and dumped in the back of the car again.
"What did you do?" Sam roared in frustration.
Gabriel chuckled at the look on Sam's face. "It's like one of my favorite candies, a Now and Later. Annoy you now, and the trash will still be here to irritate Dean later.”
“You need to clean up this mess now!” Sam demanded, as he went to the trunk and grabbed his duffle bag. Sam stormed back into the motel room and threw his bag on to his bed. He pulled a clean t-shirt and boxers out of his duffel bag before heading to the shower.
Gabriel sighed before he snapped his fingers and the mess in the Impala disappeared. He followed Sam back into the room with an air of indifference. Why was it he was always stuck with the ones that had a stick up their ass and wouldn’t know a good time if it slapped them in the face? Dad knows, he would probably get slapped in the face a couple of times tonight if he did all of the things he was hoping to do, but it would be better than sitting around here watching reruns on a lousy television set. As he was about to head out on his own to see what kind of trouble he could find, a glint from the edge of Sam’s open bag caught his eye. While snooping wasn’t the brightest idea he ever had, it never stopped him before. Gabriel peered in and saw a ring, a ring that looked somewhat familiar to him. He reached in a pulled out the ring and looked it over carefully. The gold ring had similar markings to one he had seen worn by someone that he had known for a long time. But he had never seen this ring up close before. Now that he had seen this one close, it gave him pause to think. Perhaps he was not only going to have to change his tactics with the young hunter, but the entire purpose of this trip.
~*~
When Dean came to, he looked around and saw that he and Cas were standing in a kitchen, dressed in white coats, surround by several other people dressed similarly to them. “Well, at least I didn’t have to fly,” he muttered to Cas. “And I see you finally lost the trench coat, buddy.” Before Cas could respond, a woman walked into the spacious room.
“Good afternoon, chefs,” she announced, glancing across the room and briefly looking all of them in the eye. “Today your challenge will be to shop at a convenience store and with a $10 budget make a gourmet meal for two using only the items you purchase and the ingredients in our pantry. You have sixty minutes to shop and prepare the meal. Your time starts now.”
“Damn. Your douche bag brother has dropped us in reality TV hell,” Dean said glancing at Cas. “But this is so much better than flying. This one I can handle with one arm tied by my back. I used to make meals like this for Sam and I all the time…it is a Winchester specialty.”
Dean ran through the Stop ‘N Go along with the rest of the contestants gathering items he needed to make his meal while Cas regarded him with intense scrutiny. When it came time to check out, Dean had collected an odd assortment of items, including a loaf of bread, processed cheese, tomato sauce, pepperoni, Jell-O and candy bars. Cas, on the other hand had nothing.
“Dude, you aren’t buying anything,” Dean observed when he caught up with Cas.
“I fail to see the point of this task,” Castiel replied. “I do not require sustenance and therefore do not need to prepare a meal.”
“Hey, you’re the one that said we needed play the game in order get to the end,” Dean said, eyeing Cas closely. “So why have you decided not to play along of a sudden? Did you find another way out for us?”
“Perhaps I was…mistaken,” Cas admitted, as Dean finished paying for his junk food and they returned to the kitchen with the other chefs. “It may only be necessary for one of us to participate in each task.”
“Cas, you can’t cook can you?” Dean asked, suppressing his laughter as he suddenly realized why the angel didn’t want to participate in this round of Gabriel’s latest torture. Slapping him on the back, Dean continued, “That’s okay, I got this one covered for both of us.”
While Dean did not lack confidence, he soon found out he did lack cooking skills. Sure he could make simple things like his mom’s tomato rice soup or a grilled cheese sandwich, but he lacked the skill and creativity to go up against the world class chefs that were in the kitchen with him. He found himself bumping into the other cooks who were running around the kitchen at a frenetic pace, spilling things everywhere and at one point, he was pretty sure he managed to burn Jell-O. After all was said and done, both he and Cas found themselves facing the judges later that evening.
“I am not even sure what either one of you are doing here in the first place,” declared an older bald gentleman who went by the name of Tom. “Castiel…you failed to even prepare any meal at all. And Dean, that grilled cheese pizza sandwich with Jell-O surprise filled with miniature Reese’s was quite frankly…an abomination I wouldn’t serve in Hell.”
While Dean gritted his teeth, the woman from earlier in the day announced, “Castiel, Dean, please pack your knives and go.”
“Not a problem lady,” Dean said winking at her as he pulled one of his larger hunting knives out of his back pocket and twirled it expertly in front of the judges’ panel. “I use knives for things much more important than cooking and for most of my life I have tried to keep a few of them on me at all times. Don’t even bother to show us the door. I am so ready to blow this Popsicle stand.”
And with that, the judges table faded away and in its place, Cas and Dean found themselves standing in a tropical jungle.
~*~
With the exception of having to take this current detour to go visit his ‘uncle’, this trip had all been going according to plan. His first attempt at getting Sam and Dean to play their roles had literally gone up in flames, so he had decided to take a different approach: Divide and Conquer. Gabriel had always known that Dean would fight him tooth and nail. And he would quickly learn that Sam would be a formidable opponent when Dean was in danger, especially when it was Gabriel’s doing. But Sam didn’t know that it was Gabriel that was behind Dean and Cas’ recent disappearance. He wouldn’t like it when he found out, but the truth was the two of them were safer right now than they had been in months. The archangel had them hidden from all supernatural eyes. He just needed them tucked away so he could convince Sam to play his role. And he had been reasonably sure Sam would listen to him with Dean out of the way, if he thought Gabriel was his ally.
But then he had to go and find this little piece of jewelry. His best laid plans were all shot to Hell. So he started to rethink his plan. This bit of jewelry was one piece to a different puzzle he hadn’t considered. His ‘uncle’ had another. That was half of the riddle solved right there. Maybe, just maybe he could rework his whole agenda.
Sam came out of the shower in a t-shirt and boxers, toweling off his wet hair. Looking up, he saw Gabriel twirling a ring in his hand.
“Where did you get that?” he demanded. Tossing the towel over the back of a chair he added, “Have you been going through my stuff?”
“It practically fell out of your bag when you got your things out earlier,” Gabriel lied easily. “What I would like to know is where did you get it? This is War’s ring, isn’t it?”
Sam blinked for a moment before responding. “Yeah, it is. Dean and I ran in to him in River Pass, Colorado a few weeks back. He was turning a town against itself, making them think that everyone else was a demon. The whole town tried to kill each other. The only way we could stop it was to get the ring off of him.”
“It still doesn’t explain how you got the ring, kiddo,” the angel said as he tossed it into the air and caught it as it came back down.
“We corned him near his Mustang. Dean held him down while I cut off the ring with Ruby’s knife,” Sam explained. “As soon as I did, he and the car disappeared, leaving behind the ring.”
“And have you run into any other Horseman that you haven’t told me about?” Gabriel asked, looking at the hunter intently.
“Why are we talking about Horsemen when we should be concentrating on finding Dean and Cas?” Sam asked the angel. “I mean, is this really important?"
“Are you really that thick, or did you just spend too much time underwater when you were in that oversized fish tank?” Gabriel shot back. “It’s the Apocalypse, stupid. Of course the Horsemen are important.”
“Well, we didn’t actually meet Death in Carthage,” Sam admitted sheepishly, remembering the horror of all that was lost there. “But Dean and I were there when Lucifer raised him. And we haven’t even seen signs of Pestilence or Famine.”
“Well, I think we are going to have to change that,” Gabriel declared with a determined look on his face.
~*~
When Sam and Gabriel arrived outside of the Rancho de Tia Rosa in Mesa, Arizona the next day, Sam immediately noticed the pale 1959 Cadillac with California license plate that read BUH*BYE. “You don’t see too many of those cars around anymore,” he remarked.
“Actually, it’s a one of a kind,” Gabriel said as he pulled open the door to the restaurant. The place was empty save for an older, rather thin gentleman in a black suit sitting a table with an assortment of food set about before him. He then noticed that several patrons and employees were lying dead on the floor.
“You know, when I lay waste to a restaurant, it is generally only the dessert tray that ends up worse for the wear due to my insatiable appetite for sweet things,” Gabriel quipped as he walked up to the man. “The staff and customers usually make it out alive.”
The man looked at the archangel, raising one eyebrow. “Alright, alright,” Gabriel admitted. “There was that one ice cream parlor in Hoboken. But the owner was a pedophile. I think we can all agree that the guy deserved a little just desserts. I am the Angel of Judgment after all; I just happened to put my own spin on it when I left home.”
“Sit. Both of you,” the man said with quiet authority. “You know how I don’t like to eat alone. And the enchiladas here are to die for.”
As Sam and Gabriel joined the man at the table, Gabriel said, “You know, that joke is rather old, especially coming from you. And you know I prefer sweet to savory any day, Uncle.”
“Very well, Gabriel,” the man answered. “Did you think I forgot my nephew’s tastes after all this time? That is why I took the liberty of getting you the key lime pie and the Mexican hot chocolate, and for you Mr. Winchester, I understand you have a taste for salads.”
Sam stared at the man wide-eyed for a moment. “Did you just say uncle?” he asked Gabriel. “Since when does God have a brother?”
“He is not my brother and his petulant little brats aren't really my nephews,” the man sighed, looking at Sam impatiently. “But both of us have been around so long, longer than any other beings in existence, that after awhile it was almost natural that we began to look at one another as, well…family.”
"You love us...you know you do," Gabriel said as he batted his eyelashes innocently.
"Yes, well, the way one of your brothers has been acting lately, I am on the verge of disowning him," he replied.
As Sam looked around at the carnage in the restaurant, he reflected, “Um yeah, Gabriel, I thought your brother was the destructive one.”
“Exactly,” Gabriel said, looking the man straight in the eyes. “What gives? Total destruction on this level usually isn’t your style unless there is some sort of natural disaster.”
“You know what they say," the man answered pointedly. “Speak of the devil and all that...your brother has had me on a leash ever since the bloody ritual in Carthage, expecting me to do his will; causing mayhem and destruction at the drop of a hat.”
“That is one of the things I came to talk to you about,” Gabriel said, taking a sip of his hot chocolate. “But we will get to that in a minute. First, I need to ask you about your…rival.”
“My rival?” he questioned with a raised eyebrow as he looked at Gabriel over his glass of Corona. “I would hardly consider that young upstart anywhere near my equal, despite her assertions that she will be the one to end the world.”
“Well still, she is a handful who is full of hands, and that is understatement,” Gabriel quipped waggling his eyebrows.
“I warned you almost millennia ago that dating her would never be easy and would have all kinds of consequences if it didn’t work out. But you were always one to do things your own way, regardless of the advice given to you,” he replied Turning to Sam he added, “It’s amazing the boy is still in one piece after their last encounter. But then again, she didn’t know his true identity at the time.”
Sam sat there in stunned silence. He wasn’t quite up to speed on everything Gabriel and this man were talking about. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to be. For now, he would just sit back, listen and hope Gabriel would fill him in later.
“I didn’t come here to get relationship advice. I am not foolish enough to go down that road and get burned twice,” Gabriel huffed. “I heard a rumor she isn’t pleased with what Luci and Mikey are up to and wants to rally the troops. Do you think she would be foolish enough to try and put a stop to it?”
“You know her better than I do Gabriel,” the man replied with a look of resignation. “Of course she will try and put a stop to it. And if your spoiled brat of a brother can put a leash on me, she most certainly will get herself killed in the process. Despite her experience with you, she isn’t as skilled in dealing with the family as we are.”
“You make it sound as if we are the Corleones or something,” Gabriel scoffed, as he dug into his key lime pie.
“Your family makes the Corleones look like a Norman Rockwell painting,” Sam muttered under his breath. He immediately slouched down in his chair when both Gabriel and the older man stared icily at him.
“Look, I know she isn’t your favorite person considering you think she is playing in your sandbox without being invited,” Gabriel pointed out. “But even though we aren’t together anymore doesn’t mean I want my brother using her as finger paint to decorate El Capitan. She’s too stubborn to let us try and stop her. But if we beat her to the punch, then maybe she won’t get hurt.”
“What exactly did you have in mind?” the man asked, with a hint of curiosity in his voice.
“Hey kiddo,” the archangel said as he turned to the hunter. “It’s your time to shine. Show the man that shiny piece of jewelry you picked up a few weeks ago.”
Startled to be finally included in the conversation, Sam fumbled around in his pocket and pulled out the ring that he and Dean had kept after they had killed War and tossed it onto the table.
The man reached over and picked it up, carefully examining it. “Interesting,” he said turning his attention to Gabriel. “Is this the only one you have?”
“Well, yeah. It is not like we can go to Jared’s and buy the rest of the set there. But, if you are willing to share,” Gabriel paused looking carefully at the older man, “well, then we would be half-way there wouldn’t we?”
“And what about the others?” he asked. “Have you thought about how you are going to get those?”
“Not really,” the Trickster said with his trademark grin. “I’m just making this up as I go along.”
“I will consider your plan,” the man replied after several seconds. “But it won’t be easy.”
“With Luci, nothing ever is,” Gabriel said as he stood up to leave.
“If you can collect the other two, then perhaps I can trust you to muster the troops to do the rest of the job as well,” he said cautiously. “We’ll be in touch.”
As they left, Sam took one last looked around, and the clues that were before him suddenly fell into place. He realized who the man they had been dealing with was.
~*~
Dean looked around at the tropical surroundings and swore under his breath. He took off his jacket due to the overwhelming heat and humidity. “Fan-freaking-tastic…with what your brother has put us through already, my guess is that we are on some island in the south Pacific with a bunch of trickster wannabes stuck playing Survivor. Of course, I also wouldn’t put it past him to throw us for a loop and stick us on Lost, trying to figure out the importance of 4, 8, 15, 16, 23 and 42.”
"Inspected by," Castiel said matter of factly.
"What?" Dean asked as he picked a direction and started to trudge off towards what he thought might be a settlement. “What are you talking about?”
"Gabriel informed me that those are the most common 'inspected by' numbers that human beings find in consumers goods such as clothing and small kitchen appliances,” Cas explained.
“Okay, first of all,” Dean said as he slowed down and looked at Cas. “What have I told you about referring to people as ‘human beings’? As soon as we run into anybody else on this Island of Misfits Being Toyed With, they are going to think you are an escapee from Danvers if you talk like that. Secondly, exactly when did you and Gabriel have a discussion about Lost?”
“After we left him in the warehouse, I returned and sought him out,” Castiel confessed, his eyes cast downward. “I thought perhaps I could convince him to help us in stopping Lucifer, or at least in my attempt to find our Father. He agreed to speak to me, but he insisted on watching the television show Lost you speak of. That is when he explained the meaning of the numbers to me. According to my brother, the numbers have no deeper meaning on the show and it is just a rather large hoax the writers are playing on the audience.”
Dean stared at the angel in silence for a moment before shaking his head. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he became a writer on that show just so he could screw with the hoi polloi all at the same time. Haven’t you realized yet that Gabriel is more likely to play games with you than tell you the truth?”
Cas opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by the arrival of two individuals, a young man with dark hair in a t-shirt and shorts and a woman in a bikini with her blonde hair up in a ponytail. “What are you two doing back here?” the man demanded to know. “Trying to form an alliance this early in the game already?”
“Uh…no,” Dean stammered as he picked up a couple of logs and shoved them in Cas’ arms. “Just gathering wood for a fire.”
“Except Probst didn’t give us matches or even flint, so how are we going to build a fire?” the woman demanded.
Cas titled is head as he regarded the two newcomers. “Creating a fire is quite simple, even without matches or flint,” the angel answered. “Simply applying friction to the wood until a spark lights the kindling should be sufficient to create a fire.”
“Who knew a stockbroker would know so much about starting fires?” the man wondered, as he picked up some logs as well.
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” the woman said, turning to head back towards the camp. “This game is full of people who are all talk and no action.”
“Well then,” Dean announced, as he started moving again. “Let’s get back to camp so he can show you what he is capable of.” Dean tossed Cas a look as he said a silent prayer to Cas’ Dad, wherever he might be, that the angel was more than just talk where starting a fire without his mojo was concerned.
Part III
“Well, that was almost a complete waste of time,” Gabriel said as he slid into the booth at the diner he and Sam stopped at to grab a bite to eat on their way out of town.
“Ya think?” Sam said as he sat down across from him and picked up a menu, pushing his still wet hair out of his eyes. “I can’t ever remember a circus that was worth my time. And then you had to go a make me an attraction in a freak show!”
“Carnival, Sam,” Gabriel sighed glancing over his own menu. “How many times do I have to tell you that it was a carnival? Besides, you weren’t the main event; you were just an understudy for one of the stars in the show. Not a very good one from what I heard either. You were supposed to wrestle Orville the Octopus, not swim away from him every chance you got. And Orville is just a regular guy in a bad costume. You were lucky I decided to stay on Minnie’s good side and leave the real squid in Scotland. But Sumy and I appreciated the time together and you earned us two hundred bucks, so I guess it was worth it. Plus, I got Orville’s wife to take pictures of you.”
“I did wrestle hi-…You did what?!” Sam exclaimed, throwing down his menu as Gabriel just smiled at him. “I want everything…the pictures, the memory disc, everything…now!”
"Too late, Sammy. Some of those photos are out there in cyberspace already," the angel answered. Gabriel ignored Sam’s frantic sputtering as their waitress arrived to take their order. The angel glanced up at the brown haired, brown-eyed beauty and threw her a winning smile. “Well hello there, Princess. I guess it’s your lucky day, stumbling upon a couple of handsome gents like us.”
The waitress clearly was suppressing an urge to roll her eyes and simply asked, “What can I get you?”
“I’ll take chocolate chip pancakes with a side of you,” Gabriel answered waggling his eyebrows. “Oh, and a strawberry milkshake, too!”
“Um, yeah…I will have a grilled chicken sandwich and a side salad with a glass of water,” Sam said having calmed down slightly. He threw the waitress an apologetic look before glaring at the angel. As the waitress left, he hissed, “What was that all about? Can’t you keep it in check for even a few days? Her name wasn’t even Princess; her name tag said Dorothy for goodness sake.”
“You are about as much fun as one of my brothers, you know that?” Gabriel remarked dryly. “You and your stupid rules; I am getting sick of them. Besides, you said I couldn’t pick up any women. I haven't lifted a finger where she is concerned; I'm just flirting with her. And since she is a princess in my book that is what I am going to call her.”
“She didn’t seem to appreciate the nickname,” Sam observed as he decided to turn the tables on the angel. “Or maybe it was just you she didn’t appreciate. Perhaps I am more her type.”
Gabriel stared at Sam briefly before he snorted, “Yeah, right, and Cas and your brother are on an airplane to Tokyo as we speak.” As he was talking, he pulled a cell phone of his pocket and began scrolling through his messages.
Surprised, Sam asked, “Wait, you have an iPhone…and you know how to use it? Cas can barely answer a basic cell phone.”
“Yeah, well in case you hadn’t realized it, Cas doesn’t get out much. And I am my Dad’s Messenger. Even if I haven’t been around Heaven to deliver many news bulletins recently doesn’t mean I haven’t kept up with the newest way they’re being delivered.”
“So who are you emailing?” Sam asked, curious to who the archangel was actually in touch with.
Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Not that it is any of your business, but I am actually tweeting. I have to update the seventy thousand followers of @Candyman17,” he said with a smile.
“You have a Twitter account…with followers?” Sam said shaking his head.
“Of course, kiddo. Why not? My life is waaay more interesting than yours. Though plenty of my followers do seem to think you make a better Sasquatch than some of the other hoaxes they've seen,” the angel answered. Winking at Sam, he added, “Hey, look @XRoadsKing thinks you look like a moose!”
"I...what...you posted those freak show pictures of me on Twitter?" Sam stammered. "Take. Them. Down. NOW."
"Aw come on, kiddo," he answered. "I didn't mean any harm. It was all in fun."
Sam just shook his head in surrender and changed the subject, asking, "So, what was Sumarlíđr talking about back there before I got tossed into the tank with a fake octopus? What kind of meeting?"
"Nothing good," Gabriel admitted as the waitress briefly returned with their drinks. "Thor has apparently caught wind that the pagan gods are less than thrilled that the Apocalypse is happening and they want to have their own little executive retreat to decide what to do about it."
Sam blanched at the thought of throwing a group of pagan gods into the mix of all they were dealing with right now. "And this 'she' that Sumarlíđr mentioned. Who is that?" Sam pressed as the waitress brought them their food, and Gabriel gave her a wry smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"No one you want to be dealing with kiddo," the angel answered as he poured chocolate syrup all over his pancakes. "No one I want to be dealing with either quite frankly, but I suppose it will need to be done at some point. First, however, I want to drown my sorrows in sugar for awhile. And then we need to make a detour and go see an old family friend to get some advice.”
~*~
Sam was beat. Wrestling an octopus, fake or not, in a large tank of water, will do that to a man. So even though they had only been on the road for four hours since they left Ely, Nevada, he pulled over in Las Vegas for the night. Despite Gabriel’s pleading to stay in something a little more posh, Sam decided to stop at a small motel on the outskirts of town. Put out that he wasn’t staying at the Bellagio, Gabriel decided he was going to toy with Sam by registering the two of them at the motel under the aliases of Duke Johnson and Chester Hooton. Sam said nothing when the clerk, an older gentleman who appeared to be in his sixties, bit back a smile and raised an eyebrow, but he did question the angel once they arrived in the room. Gabriel explained that they were a couple of vaudeville performers he knew back at the turn of the twentieth century that used a fake ghost to scam people out of their money. “I tried to set them up on a prank for all the scams they pulled by shipping them off to Alaska without their stolen money,” Gabriel said shaking his head. “But somehow, they came out of it smelling like roses after they got rid of two real thugs! One of them even managed to marry the daughter of a man who owned a gold mine, if you can imagine that!”
“So why did the clerk give us a strange look when we checked in?” Sam asked, still not satisfied with the angel’s answer.
“I don’t know, kiddo,” Gabriel remarked flippantly as he snapped his fingers to change into a gold lame shirt and black leather pants, something he felt was more fitting for Vegas. “Maybe you look more like a Jimmy Page than a Chester Hooton; or maybe you just don’t look comfortable in your skin. Dad knows, I wouldn’t if I were you seeing how far it has to stretch to get around those long bones of yours.”
“And I am pretty sure that your outfit went out of style the same time Disco did,” Sam retorted.
“Hey, this is Vegas,” the shorter man said with a smirk as he slid on a pair of sunglasses. “I will totally fit in here. And besides, I have been around long enough to know that everything old becomes new again at some point.”
Gabriel tried to convince Sam to join him on taking in some of the sights of Vegas since they were there, but Sam just shook his head as he stifled a yawn. All he wanted to do was take a shower and hit the sack. But he had left his duffle bag out in the car.
Gabriel watched him as he went out to the parking lot to retrieve it from the trunk. Casually glancing at the back seat of the Impala before heading to the trunk, Sam had to do a double-take. He knew the archangel had been snacking a lot, and had also been disregarding his rules, but couldn't believe what he saw. How did one angel, especially one so small, manage to accumulate so much trash in such a short amount of time? If they ever found Dean, he was going to kill him for allowing his baby to get this messed up, especially by Gabriel. Sam flung open the back door and desperately started trying to pick up all the candy wrappers and soda containers that had found their way into the back seat. He quickly realized however, that it was like trying to sift through dry sand. He was just burying himself in a seemingly endless pile of garbage. He went back into the hotel room and grabbed a trash bag without saying a word to the archangel. Nearly twenty minutes later, he finally found the back seat of the car, but there was still a significant amount of refuse on the floor.
"Whatchya doing?" he heard Gabriel ask casually behind him. Sam spun around.
"Cleaning up the mess you made," he accused, as he pointed his finger at Gabriel. "Haven't you ever used a trash can before in the thousands of years you have been around? Dean is going to commit fratricide if he sees this mess. Then he is going to find a way to kill you, or at least permanently remove you from this plane of existence."
Sam turn back around to keep working on the cleaning the car, only to feel the weight of the bag in his hands evaporate. When he looked down he found that all of the trash he had cleaned up had been removed from the bag and dumped in the back of the car again.
"What did you do?" Sam roared in frustration.
Gabriel chuckled at the look on Sam's face. "It's like one of my favorite candies, a Now and Later. Annoy you now, and the trash will still be here to irritate Dean later.”
“You need to clean up this mess now!” Sam demanded, as he went to the trunk and grabbed his duffle bag. Sam stormed back into the motel room and threw his bag on to his bed. He pulled a clean t-shirt and boxers out of his duffel bag before heading to the shower.
Gabriel sighed before he snapped his fingers and the mess in the Impala disappeared. He followed Sam back into the room with an air of indifference. Why was it he was always stuck with the ones that had a stick up their ass and wouldn’t know a good time if it slapped them in the face? Dad knows, he would probably get slapped in the face a couple of times tonight if he did all of the things he was hoping to do, but it would be better than sitting around here watching reruns on a lousy television set. As he was about to head out on his own to see what kind of trouble he could find, a glint from the edge of Sam’s open bag caught his eye. While snooping wasn’t the brightest idea he ever had, it never stopped him before. Gabriel peered in and saw a ring, a ring that looked somewhat familiar to him. He reached in a pulled out the ring and looked it over carefully. The gold ring had similar markings to one he had seen worn by someone that he had known for a long time. But he had never seen this ring up close before. Now that he had seen this one close, it gave him pause to think. Perhaps he was not only going to have to change his tactics with the young hunter, but the entire purpose of this trip.
~*~
When Dean came to, he looked around and saw that he and Cas were standing in a kitchen, dressed in white coats, surround by several other people dressed similarly to them. “Well, at least I didn’t have to fly,” he muttered to Cas. “And I see you finally lost the trench coat, buddy.” Before Cas could respond, a woman walked into the spacious room.
“Good afternoon, chefs,” she announced, glancing across the room and briefly looking all of them in the eye. “Today your challenge will be to shop at a convenience store and with a $10 budget make a gourmet meal for two using only the items you purchase and the ingredients in our pantry. You have sixty minutes to shop and prepare the meal. Your time starts now.”
“Damn. Your douche bag brother has dropped us in reality TV hell,” Dean said glancing at Cas. “But this is so much better than flying. This one I can handle with one arm tied by my back. I used to make meals like this for Sam and I all the time…it is a Winchester specialty.”
Dean ran through the Stop ‘N Go along with the rest of the contestants gathering items he needed to make his meal while Cas regarded him with intense scrutiny. When it came time to check out, Dean had collected an odd assortment of items, including a loaf of bread, processed cheese, tomato sauce, pepperoni, Jell-O and candy bars. Cas, on the other hand had nothing.
“Dude, you aren’t buying anything,” Dean observed when he caught up with Cas.
“I fail to see the point of this task,” Castiel replied. “I do not require sustenance and therefore do not need to prepare a meal.”
“Hey, you’re the one that said we needed play the game in order get to the end,” Dean said, eyeing Cas closely. “So why have you decided not to play along of a sudden? Did you find another way out for us?”
“Perhaps I was…mistaken,” Cas admitted, as Dean finished paying for his junk food and they returned to the kitchen with the other chefs. “It may only be necessary for one of us to participate in each task.”
“Cas, you can’t cook can you?” Dean asked, suppressing his laughter as he suddenly realized why the angel didn’t want to participate in this round of Gabriel’s latest torture. Slapping him on the back, Dean continued, “That’s okay, I got this one covered for both of us.”
While Dean did not lack confidence, he soon found out he did lack cooking skills. Sure he could make simple things like his mom’s tomato rice soup or a grilled cheese sandwich, but he lacked the skill and creativity to go up against the world class chefs that were in the kitchen with him. He found himself bumping into the other cooks who were running around the kitchen at a frenetic pace, spilling things everywhere and at one point, he was pretty sure he managed to burn Jell-O. After all was said and done, both he and Cas found themselves facing the judges later that evening.
“I am not even sure what either one of you are doing here in the first place,” declared an older bald gentleman who went by the name of Tom. “Castiel…you failed to even prepare any meal at all. And Dean, that grilled cheese pizza sandwich with Jell-O surprise filled with miniature Reese’s was quite frankly…an abomination I wouldn’t serve in Hell.”
While Dean gritted his teeth, the woman from earlier in the day announced, “Castiel, Dean, please pack your knives and go.”
“Not a problem lady,” Dean said winking at her as he pulled one of his larger hunting knives out of his back pocket and twirled it expertly in front of the judges’ panel. “I use knives for things much more important than cooking and for most of my life I have tried to keep a few of them on me at all times. Don’t even bother to show us the door. I am so ready to blow this Popsicle stand.”
And with that, the judges table faded away and in its place, Cas and Dean found themselves standing in a tropical jungle.
~*~
With the exception of having to take this current detour to go visit his ‘uncle’, this trip had all been going according to plan. His first attempt at getting Sam and Dean to play their roles had literally gone up in flames, so he had decided to take a different approach: Divide and Conquer. Gabriel had always known that Dean would fight him tooth and nail. And he would quickly learn that Sam would be a formidable opponent when Dean was in danger, especially when it was Gabriel’s doing. But Sam didn’t know that it was Gabriel that was behind Dean and Cas’ recent disappearance. He wouldn’t like it when he found out, but the truth was the two of them were safer right now than they had been in months. The archangel had them hidden from all supernatural eyes. He just needed them tucked away so he could convince Sam to play his role. And he had been reasonably sure Sam would listen to him with Dean out of the way, if he thought Gabriel was his ally.
But then he had to go and find this little piece of jewelry. His best laid plans were all shot to Hell. So he started to rethink his plan. This bit of jewelry was one piece to a different puzzle he hadn’t considered. His ‘uncle’ had another. That was half of the riddle solved right there. Maybe, just maybe he could rework his whole agenda.
Sam came out of the shower in a t-shirt and boxers, toweling off his wet hair. Looking up, he saw Gabriel twirling a ring in his hand.
“Where did you get that?” he demanded. Tossing the towel over the back of a chair he added, “Have you been going through my stuff?”
“It practically fell out of your bag when you got your things out earlier,” Gabriel lied easily. “What I would like to know is where did you get it? This is War’s ring, isn’t it?”
Sam blinked for a moment before responding. “Yeah, it is. Dean and I ran in to him in River Pass, Colorado a few weeks back. He was turning a town against itself, making them think that everyone else was a demon. The whole town tried to kill each other. The only way we could stop it was to get the ring off of him.”
“It still doesn’t explain how you got the ring, kiddo,” the angel said as he tossed it into the air and caught it as it came back down.
“We corned him near his Mustang. Dean held him down while I cut off the ring with Ruby’s knife,” Sam explained. “As soon as I did, he and the car disappeared, leaving behind the ring.”
“And have you run into any other Horseman that you haven’t told me about?” Gabriel asked, looking at the hunter intently.
“Why are we talking about Horsemen when we should be concentrating on finding Dean and Cas?” Sam asked the angel. “I mean, is this really important?"
“Are you really that thick, or did you just spend too much time underwater when you were in that oversized fish tank?” Gabriel shot back. “It’s the Apocalypse, stupid. Of course the Horsemen are important.”
“Well, we didn’t actually meet Death in Carthage,” Sam admitted sheepishly, remembering the horror of all that was lost there. “But Dean and I were there when Lucifer raised him. And we haven’t even seen signs of Pestilence or Famine.”
“Well, I think we are going to have to change that,” Gabriel declared with a determined look on his face.
~*~
When Sam and Gabriel arrived outside of the Rancho de Tia Rosa in Mesa, Arizona the next day, Sam immediately noticed the pale 1959 Cadillac with California license plate that read BUH*BYE. “You don’t see too many of those cars around anymore,” he remarked.
“Actually, it’s a one of a kind,” Gabriel said as he pulled open the door to the restaurant. The place was empty save for an older, rather thin gentleman in a black suit sitting a table with an assortment of food set about before him. He then noticed that several patrons and employees were lying dead on the floor.
“You know, when I lay waste to a restaurant, it is generally only the dessert tray that ends up worse for the wear due to my insatiable appetite for sweet things,” Gabriel quipped as he walked up to the man. “The staff and customers usually make it out alive.”
The man looked at the archangel, raising one eyebrow. “Alright, alright,” Gabriel admitted. “There was that one ice cream parlor in Hoboken. But the owner was a pedophile. I think we can all agree that the guy deserved a little just desserts. I am the Angel of Judgment after all; I just happened to put my own spin on it when I left home.”
“Sit. Both of you,” the man said with quiet authority. “You know how I don’t like to eat alone. And the enchiladas here are to die for.”
As Sam and Gabriel joined the man at the table, Gabriel said, “You know, that joke is rather old, especially coming from you. And you know I prefer sweet to savory any day, Uncle.”
“Very well, Gabriel,” the man answered. “Did you think I forgot my nephew’s tastes after all this time? That is why I took the liberty of getting you the key lime pie and the Mexican hot chocolate, and for you Mr. Winchester, I understand you have a taste for salads.”
Sam stared at the man wide-eyed for a moment. “Did you just say uncle?” he asked Gabriel. “Since when does God have a brother?”
“He is not my brother and his petulant little brats aren't really my nephews,” the man sighed, looking at Sam impatiently. “But both of us have been around so long, longer than any other beings in existence, that after awhile it was almost natural that we began to look at one another as, well…family.”
"You love us...you know you do," Gabriel said as he batted his eyelashes innocently.
"Yes, well, the way one of your brothers has been acting lately, I am on the verge of disowning him," he replied.
As Sam looked around at the carnage in the restaurant, he reflected, “Um yeah, Gabriel, I thought your brother was the destructive one.”
“Exactly,” Gabriel said, looking the man straight in the eyes. “What gives? Total destruction on this level usually isn’t your style unless there is some sort of natural disaster.”
“You know what they say," the man answered pointedly. “Speak of the devil and all that...your brother has had me on a leash ever since the bloody ritual in Carthage, expecting me to do his will; causing mayhem and destruction at the drop of a hat.”
“That is one of the things I came to talk to you about,” Gabriel said, taking a sip of his hot chocolate. “But we will get to that in a minute. First, I need to ask you about your…rival.”
“My rival?” he questioned with a raised eyebrow as he looked at Gabriel over his glass of Corona. “I would hardly consider that young upstart anywhere near my equal, despite her assertions that she will be the one to end the world.”
“Well still, she is a handful who is full of hands, and that is understatement,” Gabriel quipped waggling his eyebrows.
“I warned you almost millennia ago that dating her would never be easy and would have all kinds of consequences if it didn’t work out. But you were always one to do things your own way, regardless of the advice given to you,” he replied Turning to Sam he added, “It’s amazing the boy is still in one piece after their last encounter. But then again, she didn’t know his true identity at the time.”
Sam sat there in stunned silence. He wasn’t quite up to speed on everything Gabriel and this man were talking about. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to be. For now, he would just sit back, listen and hope Gabriel would fill him in later.
“I didn’t come here to get relationship advice. I am not foolish enough to go down that road and get burned twice,” Gabriel huffed. “I heard a rumor she isn’t pleased with what Luci and Mikey are up to and wants to rally the troops. Do you think she would be foolish enough to try and put a stop to it?”
“You know her better than I do Gabriel,” the man replied with a look of resignation. “Of course she will try and put a stop to it. And if your spoiled brat of a brother can put a leash on me, she most certainly will get herself killed in the process. Despite her experience with you, she isn’t as skilled in dealing with the family as we are.”
“You make it sound as if we are the Corleones or something,” Gabriel scoffed, as he dug into his key lime pie.
“Your family makes the Corleones look like a Norman Rockwell painting,” Sam muttered under his breath. He immediately slouched down in his chair when both Gabriel and the older man stared icily at him.
“Look, I know she isn’t your favorite person considering you think she is playing in your sandbox without being invited,” Gabriel pointed out. “But even though we aren’t together anymore doesn’t mean I want my brother using her as finger paint to decorate El Capitan. She’s too stubborn to let us try and stop her. But if we beat her to the punch, then maybe she won’t get hurt.”
“What exactly did you have in mind?” the man asked, with a hint of curiosity in his voice.
“Hey kiddo,” the archangel said as he turned to the hunter. “It’s your time to shine. Show the man that shiny piece of jewelry you picked up a few weeks ago.”
Startled to be finally included in the conversation, Sam fumbled around in his pocket and pulled out the ring that he and Dean had kept after they had killed War and tossed it onto the table.
The man reached over and picked it up, carefully examining it. “Interesting,” he said turning his attention to Gabriel. “Is this the only one you have?”
“Well, yeah. It is not like we can go to Jared’s and buy the rest of the set there. But, if you are willing to share,” Gabriel paused looking carefully at the older man, “well, then we would be half-way there wouldn’t we?”
“And what about the others?” he asked. “Have you thought about how you are going to get those?”
“Not really,” the Trickster said with his trademark grin. “I’m just making this up as I go along.”
“I will consider your plan,” the man replied after several seconds. “But it won’t be easy.”
“With Luci, nothing ever is,” Gabriel said as he stood up to leave.
“If you can collect the other two, then perhaps I can trust you to muster the troops to do the rest of the job as well,” he said cautiously. “We’ll be in touch.”
As they left, Sam took one last looked around, and the clues that were before him suddenly fell into place. He realized who the man they had been dealing with was.
~*~
Dean looked around at the tropical surroundings and swore under his breath. He took off his jacket due to the overwhelming heat and humidity. “Fan-freaking-tastic…with what your brother has put us through already, my guess is that we are on some island in the south Pacific with a bunch of trickster wannabes stuck playing Survivor. Of course, I also wouldn’t put it past him to throw us for a loop and stick us on Lost, trying to figure out the importance of 4, 8, 15, 16, 23 and 42.”
"Inspected by," Castiel said matter of factly.
"What?" Dean asked as he picked a direction and started to trudge off towards what he thought might be a settlement. “What are you talking about?”
"Gabriel informed me that those are the most common 'inspected by' numbers that human beings find in consumers goods such as clothing and small kitchen appliances,” Cas explained.
“Okay, first of all,” Dean said as he slowed down and looked at Cas. “What have I told you about referring to people as ‘human beings’? As soon as we run into anybody else on this Island of Misfits Being Toyed With, they are going to think you are an escapee from Danvers if you talk like that. Secondly, exactly when did you and Gabriel have a discussion about Lost?”
“After we left him in the warehouse, I returned and sought him out,” Castiel confessed, his eyes cast downward. “I thought perhaps I could convince him to help us in stopping Lucifer, or at least in my attempt to find our Father. He agreed to speak to me, but he insisted on watching the television show Lost you speak of. That is when he explained the meaning of the numbers to me. According to my brother, the numbers have no deeper meaning on the show and it is just a rather large hoax the writers are playing on the audience.”
Dean stared at the angel in silence for a moment before shaking his head. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he became a writer on that show just so he could screw with the hoi polloi all at the same time. Haven’t you realized yet that Gabriel is more likely to play games with you than tell you the truth?”
Cas opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by the arrival of two individuals, a young man with dark hair in a t-shirt and shorts and a woman in a bikini with her blonde hair up in a ponytail. “What are you two doing back here?” the man demanded to know. “Trying to form an alliance this early in the game already?”
“Uh…no,” Dean stammered as he picked up a couple of logs and shoved them in Cas’ arms. “Just gathering wood for a fire.”
“Except Probst didn’t give us matches or even flint, so how are we going to build a fire?” the woman demanded.
Cas titled is head as he regarded the two newcomers. “Creating a fire is quite simple, even without matches or flint,” the angel answered. “Simply applying friction to the wood until a spark lights the kindling should be sufficient to create a fire.”
“Who knew a stockbroker would know so much about starting fires?” the man wondered, as he picked up some logs as well.
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” the woman said, turning to head back towards the camp. “This game is full of people who are all talk and no action.”
“Well then,” Dean announced, as he started moving again. “Let’s get back to camp so he can show you what he is capable of.” Dean tossed Cas a look as he said a silent prayer to Cas’ Dad, wherever he might be, that the angel was more than just talk where starting a fire without his mojo was concerned.
Part III