Fic: Libra (Sam/Gabriel, Dean/Castiel)
Title: Libra
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Gabriel, Dean/Castiel
Rating: NC17 for bad language, slash, and violence.
Word count: 2717 words
Dedicated: morganoconner for letting me write this for her <3.
Summary: Written to finish up morganoconner's slavefic alternate universe; Gabriel's here to get his family back, and he'll do whatever it takes to get it.
Gabriel didn't particularly have a bad temper, despite his reputation. 'Bad temper' suggested a lack of self-control, an inability to know what times were appropriate for screaming and yelling, and which should remain quiet.
It didn't mean he was incapable of anger, and it didn't mean he restrained said anger when the occasion called for it.
John Winchester's stubbornness called for it.
It was satisfying to watch anger turn into shock as Mary Campbell, moments ago Mary Winchester, wiped the remains of her husband from her face and cleavage as her guests fell into shattered piles of gore.
"Now, Mary, I'd like to continue our negotiations. Alone."
"Did you know your brother lets Castiel walk around unrestrained? It's very unconventional."
"Castiel saved Dean's life. He can trust him."
"You don't trust me?" Gabriel said. "That's rich, for a half-demon."
Sam laughed, and it was strange to hear that laugh without any taint of bitterness or cruelty. It was surprised, and honest. "Most people are polite enough not to mention the demon blood."
"Why shouldn't I? You did. In Heaven we have a name for people like you."
"What name?"
"Abomination," Gabriel replied, pushing Sam back against the bed and straddling him. He'd been to Earth before, slept with its men and women, but collared sex had proven a temptation he couldn't resist. "You walk the Earth with tainted blood. You shouldn't exist. Abomination." He split the word into distinct syllables on saying it the second time, walking his fingers down Sam's chest as he did so. "We're not supposed to like you."
"I'm not supposed to like you either," Sam replied. "And I don't."
Gabriel smirked, wrapping his hand around Sam's cock and stroking it, feeling it growing erect. "You'll have to be more convincing than that."
"Why me?" Mary asked, pale and visibly shaken but standing tall amidst the red mess that had been her husband and followers.
"Because I almost like you, Mary," Gabriel said, wiping his sleeve over a former guest's chair and sitting down, spreading his arms wide. "You're more like your sons than John. Single-minded but open to negotiation; speaking of which, I'd like to do you a favour. Hell, I'll throw it in for free."
Mary doubled over, clutching her chest when he snapped his fingers, wiping from her heart Enochian markings that would never have been allowed if it weren't for the sons she would produce with John. He couldn't help but wonder what marvels she would have been capable of if she'd never been tied down to that man.
To her credit, Mary didn't speak, just ran at him with the blade she had stolen from one of his long dead brothers.
Castiel was used to Dean being a light sleeper; used to him waking in the middle of the night, yawning, and rolling over.
He wasn't used to Dean asking questions, but for all that he'd kept quiet about his own concerns over Gabriel's appearance, Dean seemed to have picked up on the gulf between them.
Dean blinked awake around four thirty in the morning, rubbed Castiel's shoulder. "What're you thinking about?"
"My family," Castiel replied, honest. "What they're doing. What Gabriel's presence means."
Dean nodded, kissed Castiel lightly on the shoulder blade before shifting up the bed, propping himself up on his elbow. Castiel turned, mirrored Dean's position. "Gabriel got you worried, huh?"
"Understatement," Castiel replied, taking Dean's hand and linking their fingers.
"You going to tell me why?"
Castiel pondered keeping his silence, but Dean had taken many risks to protect him in the past and even if his own enslavement had been to ensure Dean's safety he didn't blame Dean for his capture. Dean had asked him to leave, even though it would have meant death, and Castiel still marvelled at someone who had been so unwilling to be saved. "Gabriel will lead the rebellion," Castiel said, "But he'll need you or Sam to start it."
"Thought you'd want that," Dean replied, sliding his free hand down between them and smiling when Castiel bucked up into his touch, the collar rendering all sensation a little more extreme than it ought to be by nature.
"I do, I just - Dean, stop that and listen to me," Castiel snapped, freezing as the collar tightened for a moment, sensing his anger and reacting to it protectively.
"Shh shh shh," Dean said, slightly panicked, flicking open the collar as soon as Castiel relaxed enough for it to let him go. If their privacy in these quarters were guaranteed the collar wouldn't be necessary, but the risk of a guard looking in while Dean slept meant a need to keep up appearances. "Shh, I'm sorry. You were saying?"
"Gabriel is an archangel, Dean," Castiel said, closing his eyes as Dean stroked the red marks the collar had left around his neck. "They're not like us. They see collateral damage, not humans."
Dean nodded, listening, seemed to be waiting for Castiel to say something conclusive.
"I don't know who he'll kill to get his way, but I know he's capable of anything."
"I'll protect you," Dean insisted. "Any way I can."
"You won't be able to," Castiel replied. "And I can't protect you, either."
Gabriel nudged her out of the way and pulled the blade from his heart. "Doesn't work on archangels, sweetheart. But good shot."
"What have you done to me?"
"Freed you," Gabriel replied. "I won't bring John back, but this will allow you to find love again. Love that we didn't design. Now, as to your guests - well, I imagine I can bring some of them back."
"I'm listening."
Gabriel picked up a half-finished crème brûlée from the table, ran a finger around the edge to pick up a little of the burnt sugar and, admittedly, a small amount of blood from what had been Bill Harvelle, sucked his finger clean.
Sam's healthy dessert choices had pissed him off for some time, and it felt good to indulge. "I know. It's the only reason you're still alive."
"I'm going to need your help," Gabriel said, wiping his stomach clean and stretching. He wasn't tired; angels rarely seemed to be, and for archangels, rarely became never.
"Maybe later," Sam said, leaning into the pillows, not sharing the angelic trait of possessing anything like energy after sex.
"Sam, I need you to listen to me," Gabriel continued, stroking a hand up Sam's back and gripping his shoulder. "This is fun, but I'm not here for you."
"I know, I get it," Sam muttered. "This'll wait until morning -"
Sam tensed as Gabriel's hand slid up to his neck. The collar hadn't stopped this, hadn't picked up on Gabriel's intentions in any way, and the calm in Gabriel's tone was all the more frightening for it. "Listen to me, Sam," Gabriel said, and Sam nodded, careful not to encourage any tightening of the hand at his throat. "Because I don't think you get this. I'm here to free my family, Sam, not just Castiel and myself. And I will do whatever it takes. Do you understand?"
"I get it," Sam said, wanting to turn over and face Gabriel, read his expressions. "I get it, okay, I'll help."
"This isn't a fairy tale," Gabriel said. "It will end messy. But I like you, and I'd prefer not to hurt you."
Gabriel let go of Sam's neck, his eyes as calm as his voice had been when Sam turned to face him. "The collar should have stopped you," Sam said, still not entirely believing what had just happened. "Why didn't it stop you?"
"It reacts to emotion, Sam," Gabriel said, stroking his fingers down Sam's neck, ignoring the flinch and smiling to himself. "Hate, anger, fear. I don't hate you, and I certainly don't fear you. But I don't like you more than my family."
"I'm a generous guy, Mary. If one of my big brothers were here, there wouldn't be any negotiations."
"Aren't angels ageless?"
"Technically, yes. But we have a hierarchy, and I don't think you would get on quite as well with Raphael or Michael." He shrugged. "Or Lucifer, wherever he is."
"What do you want?"
"Freedom. For all of us."
"It's not that simple," Mary replied. "We've built industries around you, there are people who don't remember how to cook or clean -"
Gabriel twitched a finger, stole the air from her lungs before she could finish the argument. "It's that simple, Mary. It's going to be, else I'll free my brothers and sisters personally. Would it help if I explained this is a political courtesy? Because believe me, I'd like to kill every last human to have bought or captured an angel, but the scale of things would make it - inconvenient."
"What are your terms?"
"Just like Sam, it's like talking to a brick wall. I want freedom."
"I know what you want, Gabriel. What will you give back?"
Castiel leaned into the push of Dean's fingers, breathed out shakily at the pressure inside him, strangely addictive despite not being as directly pleasant as Dean's lips around his cock. They could take their time like this, and Dean would normally be more than happy to go slow, waiting until Castiel had sweat pooling at the base of his spine before taking pity and pushing up against Castiel's prostate or stroking his erection.
This time he was a little too distracted to come from fingers alone, and Dean pulled them out, easing Castiel onto his back. "You okay?"
Castiel wondered if there were words to explain that end of the world sex wasn't all it was cracked up to be, hooked his legs around Dean's waist. "No," Castiel replied. "The invitation in the post. I saw it."
"I'm not going," Dean replied. "Hate formal parties."
"Gabriel will want to," Castiel explained. "We don't have long before he acts."
"So what you mean is this could be our last night on Earth," Dean said, grinning at first before breaking into full-on laughter.
"Yes, and I don't see what's so funny."
"Nothing, nothing. I just get the feeling I've heard that line before."
Gabriel smirked around another mouthful of crème brûlée. "And that's where Dean came from, bargaining with nothing to offer. I'll give you two months to free all the angels stationed on Earth, and destroy any and all equipment designed to capture them. You'll make it illegal to own an angel under any circumstances. You'll clean up the mess left behind should any of my brothers or sisters turn against their captors. In exchange, I'll spare your life and bring back half of your guests. And, of course, I won't have to wipe the Earth clean of your kind."
Mary's knuckles were white and her face grim, but she was a hunter at heart. "There were fifty seven guests."
"We'll let a child stand in as a half," Gabriel replied, watching her calculations. "I'm feeling generous."
"I don't have a choice," Mary said, as much to herself as to him, before holding out her hand. "Agreed."
Gabriel shook her hand, smiled. "I'll even let you choose the twenty-eight."
"And a half."
"And a half," Gabriel repeated. "I might even stick around the two months. I almost like you, but I definitely like Sam."
Gabriel flicked through Sam's letters, blinked at an invitation sitting between the notes.
"Your parents are throwing a party," Gabriel said, looking over at Sam as he emerged from the shower, licked his lips without thinking. "You're invited. All the head families around here are."
"And?" Sam's tone was petulant; he'd been a little sore-tempered since Gabriel threatened to strangle him, but there was an altogether different, even pleasant tension between them that never went away.
Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Didn't you think it would be useful to tell me?"
"Angels aren't invited," Sam replied. "Collared or otherwise. They'd be tortured and returned to the traders."
"Sam, how do you suppose I ended up in this collar? By accident?" Gabriel got to his feet and walked over to Sam, pulled the towel away from his waist. "I volunteered because it would get me closer to the traders. Michael proposed killing you all. Raphael wanted you spared. I suggested a third path." Gabriel licked at Sam's neck, resisted the urge to bite. "Diplomacy. And I think Mary Campbell could prove very diplomatic."
"Winchester. Mary Winchester. She married our dad."
"I know," Gabriel said, before stretching out on the bed. He might have started the teasing, but Sam would have to earn anything more. "Nobody's perfect."
Six weeks later, because while Mary Campbell could be accused of many things inefficiency was not one of them, Gabriel watched as the Winchesters' mansion burned to the ground at the hands of freed angels. The stench of brimstone was scarcely attractive but the fireworks were impressive enough; Uriel and his fellow specialists had no interest in subtlety.
Mary had long since left, of course, with Gabriel's imprints on her ribs protecting her from angelic eyes. She wasn't stupid.
Gabriel was more concerned with the brother sat at his side.
"There's no guarantee they'll keep their promise," Gabriel said.
"I know," Castiel replied, toying with what had been his collar, now a useless decoration held in his hands. "They'll be angry for years yet."
"Then why stay?"
Castiel looked at Gabriel, a quick half-smile flickering across his lips before he glanced over his shoulder at the Impala. "I can't let him go."
"Can't or won't?"
"Won't." Castiel let out a deep breath before closing his eyes. "I thought you would understand, given your opinion of Sam."
"I'll see him again. Sixty years isn't a long time to wait, and that's if he's lucky."
"It feels like a lifetime now, even to me," Castiel said, leaning against Gabriel. "I've been down here too long."
"You could always kill him and bring him back with us." Castiel looked up again to glare. "Just a suggestion."
Castiel rolled his eyes before getting to his feet, walking back over to Sam and Dean, and Gabriel followed suit, tried to repress the defensive urge to throttle Dean for kissing his brother.
Sam didn't kiss him goodbye; still seemed to resent him for leaving - and for killing his father. Gabriel accepted the anger quite happily, so long as it remained aimed at him and not angels in general.
"Take care, Sam."
"Go to Hell, Gabriel."
Dean didn't answer his own "Take care", too distracted by Castiel's lips by the look of things.
The advantage of being an angel was not requiring lips to be able to talk to other angels, and even if Castiel's thoughts were distracted, he still managed a "Goodbye, Gabriel".
Gabriel cracked his knuckles, stretched his wings, winked at Sam one last time before taking flight.
He'd be in Heaven soon enough.
Hopefully he'd finally get the thanks he deserved there.
Sam hesitated only a moment before snapping open Gabriel's collar. He'd expected blinding light or a hiss of flapping wings, something dramatic - had to admit he was a little disappointed when Gabriel just sat there, looking the same as ever.
"Thanks," Gabriel said, taking Sam by the back of the neck and leaning in for a quick kiss. "Word of warning, though - you're not going to like me much longer."
"What are you going to do?"
"You know what they say about omelettes," Gabriel replied, leaning forward in his seat and tapping Castiel on the shoulder. "You coming?"
Castiel looked to Dean, hadn't let go of his hand yet, seemed hesitant. "Should I?"
"No," Gabriel replied before anyone else could. "You know what I'm like in a bad mood."
Dean let out a breath and squeezed Castiel's hand back, started up the engine again, ready to drive off as soon as Gabriel was inside.
Gabriel climbed out of the car and stretched, looking up at the mansion, smirked at the Enochian sigils marking the entrance.
Perfectly serviceable for warding off an angel or two.
Not so serviceable against archangels.
Gabriel raised his hands and cracked open the doors, left the Winchester brothers and Castiel staring open-mouthed. The powers of archangels were rumours, myths, strange footnotes in history. They hadn't been seen on Earth in a very long time.
Time to go to work.
The End
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Gabriel, Dean/Castiel
Rating: NC17 for bad language, slash, and violence.
Word count: 2717 words
Dedicated: morganoconner for letting me write this for her <3.
Summary: Written to finish up morganoconner's slavefic alternate universe; Gabriel's here to get his family back, and he'll do whatever it takes to get it.
Gabriel didn't particularly have a bad temper, despite his reputation. 'Bad temper' suggested a lack of self-control, an inability to know what times were appropriate for screaming and yelling, and which should remain quiet.
It didn't mean he was incapable of anger, and it didn't mean he restrained said anger when the occasion called for it.
John Winchester's stubbornness called for it.
It was satisfying to watch anger turn into shock as Mary Campbell, moments ago Mary Winchester, wiped the remains of her husband from her face and cleavage as her guests fell into shattered piles of gore.
"Now, Mary, I'd like to continue our negotiations. Alone."
"Did you know your brother lets Castiel walk around unrestrained? It's very unconventional."
"Castiel saved Dean's life. He can trust him."
"You don't trust me?" Gabriel said. "That's rich, for a half-demon."
Sam laughed, and it was strange to hear that laugh without any taint of bitterness or cruelty. It was surprised, and honest. "Most people are polite enough not to mention the demon blood."
"Why shouldn't I? You did. In Heaven we have a name for people like you."
"What name?"
"Abomination," Gabriel replied, pushing Sam back against the bed and straddling him. He'd been to Earth before, slept with its men and women, but collared sex had proven a temptation he couldn't resist. "You walk the Earth with tainted blood. You shouldn't exist. Abomination." He split the word into distinct syllables on saying it the second time, walking his fingers down Sam's chest as he did so. "We're not supposed to like you."
"I'm not supposed to like you either," Sam replied. "And I don't."
Gabriel smirked, wrapping his hand around Sam's cock and stroking it, feeling it growing erect. "You'll have to be more convincing than that."
"Why me?" Mary asked, pale and visibly shaken but standing tall amidst the red mess that had been her husband and followers.
"Because I almost like you, Mary," Gabriel said, wiping his sleeve over a former guest's chair and sitting down, spreading his arms wide. "You're more like your sons than John. Single-minded but open to negotiation; speaking of which, I'd like to do you a favour. Hell, I'll throw it in for free."
Mary doubled over, clutching her chest when he snapped his fingers, wiping from her heart Enochian markings that would never have been allowed if it weren't for the sons she would produce with John. He couldn't help but wonder what marvels she would have been capable of if she'd never been tied down to that man.
To her credit, Mary didn't speak, just ran at him with the blade she had stolen from one of his long dead brothers.
Castiel was used to Dean being a light sleeper; used to him waking in the middle of the night, yawning, and rolling over.
He wasn't used to Dean asking questions, but for all that he'd kept quiet about his own concerns over Gabriel's appearance, Dean seemed to have picked up on the gulf between them.
Dean blinked awake around four thirty in the morning, rubbed Castiel's shoulder. "What're you thinking about?"
"My family," Castiel replied, honest. "What they're doing. What Gabriel's presence means."
Dean nodded, kissed Castiel lightly on the shoulder blade before shifting up the bed, propping himself up on his elbow. Castiel turned, mirrored Dean's position. "Gabriel got you worried, huh?"
"Understatement," Castiel replied, taking Dean's hand and linking their fingers.
"You going to tell me why?"
Castiel pondered keeping his silence, but Dean had taken many risks to protect him in the past and even if his own enslavement had been to ensure Dean's safety he didn't blame Dean for his capture. Dean had asked him to leave, even though it would have meant death, and Castiel still marvelled at someone who had been so unwilling to be saved. "Gabriel will lead the rebellion," Castiel said, "But he'll need you or Sam to start it."
"Thought you'd want that," Dean replied, sliding his free hand down between them and smiling when Castiel bucked up into his touch, the collar rendering all sensation a little more extreme than it ought to be by nature.
"I do, I just - Dean, stop that and listen to me," Castiel snapped, freezing as the collar tightened for a moment, sensing his anger and reacting to it protectively.
"Shh shh shh," Dean said, slightly panicked, flicking open the collar as soon as Castiel relaxed enough for it to let him go. If their privacy in these quarters were guaranteed the collar wouldn't be necessary, but the risk of a guard looking in while Dean slept meant a need to keep up appearances. "Shh, I'm sorry. You were saying?"
"Gabriel is an archangel, Dean," Castiel said, closing his eyes as Dean stroked the red marks the collar had left around his neck. "They're not like us. They see collateral damage, not humans."
Dean nodded, listening, seemed to be waiting for Castiel to say something conclusive.
"I don't know who he'll kill to get his way, but I know he's capable of anything."
"I'll protect you," Dean insisted. "Any way I can."
"You won't be able to," Castiel replied. "And I can't protect you, either."
Gabriel nudged her out of the way and pulled the blade from his heart. "Doesn't work on archangels, sweetheart. But good shot."
"What have you done to me?"
"Freed you," Gabriel replied. "I won't bring John back, but this will allow you to find love again. Love that we didn't design. Now, as to your guests - well, I imagine I can bring some of them back."
"I'm listening."
Gabriel picked up a half-finished crème brûlée from the table, ran a finger around the edge to pick up a little of the burnt sugar and, admittedly, a small amount of blood from what had been Bill Harvelle, sucked his finger clean.
Sam's healthy dessert choices had pissed him off for some time, and it felt good to indulge. "I know. It's the only reason you're still alive."
"I'm going to need your help," Gabriel said, wiping his stomach clean and stretching. He wasn't tired; angels rarely seemed to be, and for archangels, rarely became never.
"Maybe later," Sam said, leaning into the pillows, not sharing the angelic trait of possessing anything like energy after sex.
"Sam, I need you to listen to me," Gabriel continued, stroking a hand up Sam's back and gripping his shoulder. "This is fun, but I'm not here for you."
"I know, I get it," Sam muttered. "This'll wait until morning -"
Sam tensed as Gabriel's hand slid up to his neck. The collar hadn't stopped this, hadn't picked up on Gabriel's intentions in any way, and the calm in Gabriel's tone was all the more frightening for it. "Listen to me, Sam," Gabriel said, and Sam nodded, careful not to encourage any tightening of the hand at his throat. "Because I don't think you get this. I'm here to free my family, Sam, not just Castiel and myself. And I will do whatever it takes. Do you understand?"
"I get it," Sam said, wanting to turn over and face Gabriel, read his expressions. "I get it, okay, I'll help."
"This isn't a fairy tale," Gabriel said. "It will end messy. But I like you, and I'd prefer not to hurt you."
Gabriel let go of Sam's neck, his eyes as calm as his voice had been when Sam turned to face him. "The collar should have stopped you," Sam said, still not entirely believing what had just happened. "Why didn't it stop you?"
"It reacts to emotion, Sam," Gabriel said, stroking his fingers down Sam's neck, ignoring the flinch and smiling to himself. "Hate, anger, fear. I don't hate you, and I certainly don't fear you. But I don't like you more than my family."
"I'm a generous guy, Mary. If one of my big brothers were here, there wouldn't be any negotiations."
"Aren't angels ageless?"
"Technically, yes. But we have a hierarchy, and I don't think you would get on quite as well with Raphael or Michael." He shrugged. "Or Lucifer, wherever he is."
"What do you want?"
"Freedom. For all of us."
"It's not that simple," Mary replied. "We've built industries around you, there are people who don't remember how to cook or clean -"
Gabriel twitched a finger, stole the air from her lungs before she could finish the argument. "It's that simple, Mary. It's going to be, else I'll free my brothers and sisters personally. Would it help if I explained this is a political courtesy? Because believe me, I'd like to kill every last human to have bought or captured an angel, but the scale of things would make it - inconvenient."
"What are your terms?"
"Just like Sam, it's like talking to a brick wall. I want freedom."
"I know what you want, Gabriel. What will you give back?"
Castiel leaned into the push of Dean's fingers, breathed out shakily at the pressure inside him, strangely addictive despite not being as directly pleasant as Dean's lips around his cock. They could take their time like this, and Dean would normally be more than happy to go slow, waiting until Castiel had sweat pooling at the base of his spine before taking pity and pushing up against Castiel's prostate or stroking his erection.
This time he was a little too distracted to come from fingers alone, and Dean pulled them out, easing Castiel onto his back. "You okay?"
Castiel wondered if there were words to explain that end of the world sex wasn't all it was cracked up to be, hooked his legs around Dean's waist. "No," Castiel replied. "The invitation in the post. I saw it."
"I'm not going," Dean replied. "Hate formal parties."
"Gabriel will want to," Castiel explained. "We don't have long before he acts."
"So what you mean is this could be our last night on Earth," Dean said, grinning at first before breaking into full-on laughter.
"Yes, and I don't see what's so funny."
"Nothing, nothing. I just get the feeling I've heard that line before."
Gabriel smirked around another mouthful of crème brûlée. "And that's where Dean came from, bargaining with nothing to offer. I'll give you two months to free all the angels stationed on Earth, and destroy any and all equipment designed to capture them. You'll make it illegal to own an angel under any circumstances. You'll clean up the mess left behind should any of my brothers or sisters turn against their captors. In exchange, I'll spare your life and bring back half of your guests. And, of course, I won't have to wipe the Earth clean of your kind."
Mary's knuckles were white and her face grim, but she was a hunter at heart. "There were fifty seven guests."
"We'll let a child stand in as a half," Gabriel replied, watching her calculations. "I'm feeling generous."
"I don't have a choice," Mary said, as much to herself as to him, before holding out her hand. "Agreed."
Gabriel shook her hand, smiled. "I'll even let you choose the twenty-eight."
"And a half."
"And a half," Gabriel repeated. "I might even stick around the two months. I almost like you, but I definitely like Sam."
Gabriel flicked through Sam's letters, blinked at an invitation sitting between the notes.
"Your parents are throwing a party," Gabriel said, looking over at Sam as he emerged from the shower, licked his lips without thinking. "You're invited. All the head families around here are."
"And?" Sam's tone was petulant; he'd been a little sore-tempered since Gabriel threatened to strangle him, but there was an altogether different, even pleasant tension between them that never went away.
Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Didn't you think it would be useful to tell me?"
"Angels aren't invited," Sam replied. "Collared or otherwise. They'd be tortured and returned to the traders."
"Sam, how do you suppose I ended up in this collar? By accident?" Gabriel got to his feet and walked over to Sam, pulled the towel away from his waist. "I volunteered because it would get me closer to the traders. Michael proposed killing you all. Raphael wanted you spared. I suggested a third path." Gabriel licked at Sam's neck, resisted the urge to bite. "Diplomacy. And I think Mary Campbell could prove very diplomatic."
"Winchester. Mary Winchester. She married our dad."
"I know," Gabriel said, before stretching out on the bed. He might have started the teasing, but Sam would have to earn anything more. "Nobody's perfect."
Six weeks later, because while Mary Campbell could be accused of many things inefficiency was not one of them, Gabriel watched as the Winchesters' mansion burned to the ground at the hands of freed angels. The stench of brimstone was scarcely attractive but the fireworks were impressive enough; Uriel and his fellow specialists had no interest in subtlety.
Mary had long since left, of course, with Gabriel's imprints on her ribs protecting her from angelic eyes. She wasn't stupid.
Gabriel was more concerned with the brother sat at his side.
"There's no guarantee they'll keep their promise," Gabriel said.
"I know," Castiel replied, toying with what had been his collar, now a useless decoration held in his hands. "They'll be angry for years yet."
"Then why stay?"
Castiel looked at Gabriel, a quick half-smile flickering across his lips before he glanced over his shoulder at the Impala. "I can't let him go."
"Can't or won't?"
"Won't." Castiel let out a deep breath before closing his eyes. "I thought you would understand, given your opinion of Sam."
"I'll see him again. Sixty years isn't a long time to wait, and that's if he's lucky."
"It feels like a lifetime now, even to me," Castiel said, leaning against Gabriel. "I've been down here too long."
"You could always kill him and bring him back with us." Castiel looked up again to glare. "Just a suggestion."
Castiel rolled his eyes before getting to his feet, walking back over to Sam and Dean, and Gabriel followed suit, tried to repress the defensive urge to throttle Dean for kissing his brother.
Sam didn't kiss him goodbye; still seemed to resent him for leaving - and for killing his father. Gabriel accepted the anger quite happily, so long as it remained aimed at him and not angels in general.
"Take care, Sam."
"Go to Hell, Gabriel."
Dean didn't answer his own "Take care", too distracted by Castiel's lips by the look of things.
The advantage of being an angel was not requiring lips to be able to talk to other angels, and even if Castiel's thoughts were distracted, he still managed a "Goodbye, Gabriel".
Gabriel cracked his knuckles, stretched his wings, winked at Sam one last time before taking flight.
He'd be in Heaven soon enough.
Hopefully he'd finally get the thanks he deserved there.
Sam hesitated only a moment before snapping open Gabriel's collar. He'd expected blinding light or a hiss of flapping wings, something dramatic - had to admit he was a little disappointed when Gabriel just sat there, looking the same as ever.
"Thanks," Gabriel said, taking Sam by the back of the neck and leaning in for a quick kiss. "Word of warning, though - you're not going to like me much longer."
"What are you going to do?"
"You know what they say about omelettes," Gabriel replied, leaning forward in his seat and tapping Castiel on the shoulder. "You coming?"
Castiel looked to Dean, hadn't let go of his hand yet, seemed hesitant. "Should I?"
"No," Gabriel replied before anyone else could. "You know what I'm like in a bad mood."
Dean let out a breath and squeezed Castiel's hand back, started up the engine again, ready to drive off as soon as Gabriel was inside.
Gabriel climbed out of the car and stretched, looking up at the mansion, smirked at the Enochian sigils marking the entrance.
Perfectly serviceable for warding off an angel or two.
Not so serviceable against archangels.
Gabriel raised his hands and cracked open the doors, left the Winchester brothers and Castiel staring open-mouthed. The powers of archangels were rumours, myths, strange footnotes in history. They hadn't been seen on Earth in a very long time.
Time to go to work.
The End