[Locked] There are bargains we should shy from. There are knots we can't untie.
Three hours.
Apparently, three hours was the grace period Gabriel gave himself after getting back from the carnival. He'd treated it a lot like a teenage girl treats giving her phone number to a boy- debating on how desperate he'll look if he jumps now, debating seeing if she calls him first, etc. In the end, it became one of those things where if he didn't do it now, it wouldn't get done and he wasn't going to wait around and see what happened if White Eyes called his bluff- not since Dresden was more than likely to go hunting for the white-eyed bastard himself and Murphy would follow... And there was only so many times he could invoke a fairy before someone called him on his bullshit.
Did he like this idea? Hell no. It stank to high heaven and given the reflection he saw back in White Eyes' mirror maze, would probably ruin him. Castiel had the right idea by refusing Kitsune. Just because his friggin' fairy stalker was a little bit nicer (okay, a lot nicer) didn't mean shit. Grace comes from Heaven. His may have been jacked up with pagan god mojo, but he still had some ties to Heaven and the more he started relying on outside sources, the less like an angel he'd be. And, really, there was a difference between pretending to be a god and stopping being an angel entirely. No amount of power, even as badly as he wanted to have some control back, was worth that.
But he needed a compromise or this would turn into the War in Heaven Mark Two with a little bit of Lucifer's assault on the Elysion Fields for taste- him standing on the sidelines, unable to interfere, watching everyone he cares about die, while he can't do shit about it. Let's face it, he could pretend he didn't care until his vessel's throat bled, but the truth always came out, either because he was backed into a corner or because he just let the cat out of the bag, himself. He did care. A lot. And he may not have finished what he started with Lucifer, but the emotions, no matter how much he buried them, still held true.
So three hours after the Carnival, as the early morning sun crept its way over the trees, Gabriel's at the gate. He only lingers there for a moment before he focuses on any familiar spot in the Wood that's not the fucking Arch. Apparently, the friggin' noose from White Eyes' maze must have stuck out to him, because he ends up near the hanging tree. ...One of these days, he'll actually figure out what the hell this friggin' Wood is doing to his internal MapQuest.
He pulls the pendant out of his pocket and dangles it in front of his face. "Okay. Let's talk."
Apparently, three hours was the grace period Gabriel gave himself after getting back from the carnival. He'd treated it a lot like a teenage girl treats giving her phone number to a boy- debating on how desperate he'll look if he jumps now, debating seeing if she calls him first, etc. In the end, it became one of those things where if he didn't do it now, it wouldn't get done and he wasn't going to wait around and see what happened if White Eyes called his bluff- not since Dresden was more than likely to go hunting for the white-eyed bastard himself and Murphy would follow... And there was only so many times he could invoke a fairy before someone called him on his bullshit.
Did he like this idea? Hell no. It stank to high heaven and given the reflection he saw back in White Eyes' mirror maze, would probably ruin him. Castiel had the right idea by refusing Kitsune. Just because his friggin' fairy stalker was a little bit nicer (okay, a lot nicer) didn't mean shit. Grace comes from Heaven. His may have been jacked up with pagan god mojo, but he still had some ties to Heaven and the more he started relying on outside sources, the less like an angel he'd be. And, really, there was a difference between pretending to be a god and stopping being an angel entirely. No amount of power, even as badly as he wanted to have some control back, was worth that.
But he needed a compromise or this would turn into the War in Heaven Mark Two with a little bit of Lucifer's assault on the Elysion Fields for taste- him standing on the sidelines, unable to interfere, watching everyone he cares about die, while he can't do shit about it. Let's face it, he could pretend he didn't care until his vessel's throat bled, but the truth always came out, either because he was backed into a corner or because he just let the cat out of the bag, himself. He did care. A lot. And he may not have finished what he started with Lucifer, but the emotions, no matter how much he buried them, still held true.
So three hours after the Carnival, as the early morning sun crept its way over the trees, Gabriel's at the gate. He only lingers there for a moment before he focuses on any familiar spot in the Wood that's not the fucking Arch. Apparently, the friggin' noose from White Eyes' maze must have stuck out to him, because he ends up near the hanging tree. ...One of these days, he'll actually figure out what the hell this friggin' Wood is doing to his internal MapQuest.
He pulls the pendant out of his pocket and dangles it in front of his face. "Okay. Let's talk."