Third Time Lucky - Interlude
They are back on the edge of the Canyon, sun high overhead, heat baking the soil, cracking the surface, heat haze shimmering in the distance. The Cupid stands beside him as they stare out over the scar etched into the world by nothing but time and water. Gabriel wonders if it is a metaphor but doesn't think the Canyon does the gaping hole inside himself justice.
He can hear the Cupid's soft sigh, he thinks about pleading, about asking for another chance, but that would be a pointless waste of words. He has another chance anyway. And no idea what to do with it.
“Where now?”
The words hang in the air between the two angels. Finally, Gabriel moves, turning his head to catch the Cupid's profile as he watches swallows dart and dive over the rim of the canyon wall.
“It is not so much a matter of where... more a matter of when.”
When Gabriel next has a moment to breath, he wonders if this is what it feels like to be hit by a train. Time rips through him, he can feel his wings flare behind him, a brace against the invisible winds. Memories flood into him, slotting neatly into his mind, filling gaps he wasn't aware he had.
Finally, Gabriel realises that something much bigger than a Cupid is behind this whole scheme. Something much bigger than an archangel even. His eyes widen in disbelief as he watches himself wreak merry havoc on a small college town. He remembers how Dean had arrived, younger brother in tow.
How had he not known? A smile curves the corners of his mouth as the pranks play out in the back of his mind. He watches from high in the corner of the hall as two lingerie-clad creations beat on Dean as another creation, this time of himself sits sprawled in one of the uncomfortable plastic seats shovelling candy into his mouth as if he was watching a movie.
He notices Dean keeping an eye out for his younger brother, even though they had been at each others throats not hours before. And then the copy down below is talking and Gabriel watches as he says, “Dean, Dean. I didn't want to do this...” And Dean is rising to his feet, the strangest of looks on his face as he plunges the stake into the Janitor's chest.
“I didn't either.” It makes Gabriel wonder if Dean had known, if he had connected the golden eyed trickster with the boy from high school who had disappeared almost in front of his eyes.
Another gust and Gabriel remembers the Mystery Spot, remembers killing Dean again and again and again - a vain attempt to deny the feelings inside. He remembers hating Dean for his closeness with his his brother; the way Dean would always stand up for him, would go to Hell for him.
None of Gabriel's brothers had spoken to him in centuries. Okay, he had gone native, had hidden himself here on Earth, but really, it wouldn't be that hard to find him if you were determined enough. The Winchester's had done it twice and they were only human. How come Sam got to have a brother who loved him, who would die for him, and Gabriel didn't.
He was both inventive and cruel and Gabriel felt tears track down his cheeks as he relived the moment that Sam had killed Dean, fighting over an axe. The falling desk was a classic though, whichever way you looked at it. Then Sam had found him, that one tiny slip enough to alert Sam. He had threatened Gabriel but had let him go and Gabriel hadn't been able to stop.
Dean died.
Dean died and Sam was alone and Gabriel was alone and it didn't make things better.
Gabriel had made it easy for Sam to track him down, the guilt and pain eating at his insides as he watched the easy-going, smiling Sam disappear, consumed by the Sam that wanted nothing but revenge, nothing but his brother. He watched Sam hone his body and his mind, his focus a point of singularity in a universe that just didn't care.
It wasn't fair.
He offered himself up to Sam, he tried to warn him that this kind of love didn't last, that everyone would leave and the more attached you got, the worse it hurt when that love was ripped away from you. No-one stayed, not even God. The only thing that remained, that was eternal, was pain, and if you wanted fun you had to steal it from someone else.
But Sam wouldn't listen, he begged, tears shimmering in those kaleidoscopic eyes and Gabriel couldn't resist. Even though he knew how it would all end - in tears and snot and blood, so much blood. He threw up his arms in disgust and sent them back. They were on their own, he had done his best.
But he couldn't leave well enough alone. He had felt it when Dean had died again, when the Righteous Man had gone to Hell. Michael was on the fast track to getting exactly what he wanted and Gabriel was done with it all. He felt it even more when the legion of angels had flown down into Hell. He had expanded his grace, trying to save at least one of them from the tortures that waited below.
Even though this was his brothers plan, even though it was supposed to happen, he couldn't bear to see his younger siblings suffer and he shoved his strength into one of them, Castiel, a minor angel.
He felt it the moment Castiel touched Dean, felt some of his grace dragged into the rebuilding of Dean, hated every part of Castiel that went into it. But Dean was out of Hell and he had a guardian angel. A tiny part of Gabriel smiled, the rest was filled with envy.
Gabriel came back to himself briefly, found himself still on the edge of the Canyon, on his knees, hands fisted into the dirt, tears sticky on his cheeks. He tried to look up at the Cupid, to ask for time to breathe but the wind stole his breath along with his feathers, tugging pinions and vanes, his grace floating into the sky, dragging through the dust in a pile of fluffy golden down and amber barred feathers.
Another memory barrelled into him. He had been amusing himself, staying far away from the Winchester's. He was done with humanity, was going to take his jollies whilst he still could, before his brothers blew it all to shit.
But they found him out, hunted him down and it was so hard to resist. He disguised himself as Dr Sexy MD. Gabriel knew Dean had a thing for the show, that he admired, maybe even found Dr Sexy attractive. And Gabriel wanted Dean to look at him like that. Even though Dean wouldn't remember him.
When Dean grabbed him and held him against the wall (and curse himself once again for forgetting about the little details), Gabriel felt a shiver run through him. He had always been so strong, always at the top of the pile and the thought of Dean dominating him did things to his insides that he had never felt before.
Dean was filled with anger, anger at a world that didn't know about his sacrifices, anger at the angels who kept trying to end it and anger at a God that simply didn't care. Gabriel fought back. He banished Castiel, hurt Sam. He thought the best part was turning Sam and the car into one being.
Dean loved them both, wouldn't that be better? But no! Then finally, Dean called on him, called him down to Earth and Gabriel came. What else could he do? How could he have known that it was all a trap?
Tears trickle unnoticed down the archangel's face as he recalls the words that Dean had hurled him in that empty warehouse. The way Dean had looked at him, eyes dark, filled with pain and the knowledge that things would never get better. Gabriel knew that he could have done more, could have stood up to his brothers, but why should he? No one had ever cared what happened to him!
He watched still and silent as the water fell around him, extinguishing the flames, setting him free. He watched as Dean and Sam and his little brother Castiel walked out and left him. But then they always left didn't they?
---II---
Gabriel comes back to himself, sprawled in the dirt, face wet with tears. He pulls at his grace, feeling the tatters of his wings shiver painfully behind him. The pain drags a moan from him and it takes him a long moment before he can pull himself to his feet. The Cupid is staring at him, face creased with concern and sympathetic pain.
“Gabriel - do you...”
Gabriel waves a hand at the Cupid, he can do this himself, he can. He staggers awkwardly upright, craning his head round to try and see his wings. Even on this plane he can still see the shimmering image of them, can see the Cupid's spread wide and fluffy behind his back.
Gabriel's wings are... actually Gabriel doesn't have a word for it. Golden eyes widen and he turns and retches onto the dusty ground at the side of the path. The visible signs of his grace, his power, are mangled and torn. Feathers stick out at odd angles, vanes twisted and bent. Huge gaps in the primary and secondary feathers mean that he can't fly.
The coverts are less damaged, but it will take hours, if not days, to work through all the feathers; to oil them and realign the barbs so that they lie sleek and smooth.
“I'm sorry, Gabriel. I would never have wished this on you. I can help if you'll let me. Would you like me to...” The Cupid is wringing his hands, tears hovering on ridiculously long lashes, flesh quivering with the force of his despair. Gabriel hauls himself upright and reaches out to the distraught angel.
“No. It's okay. I know that you didn't do this. I could feel Him. I could feel Him!” Despite the pain, Gabriel manages a small smile, the knowledge that his Father is still around warming the small cold part of him buried deep inside.
His memories are complete now and he knows where he has to be. He knows that his brother is about to play one of his final cards. His Father is not the only god that humans have worshipped and anyone else with power is a threat to be eliminated in Lucifer's eyes. Of course, it helps that Gabriel has been down here for a long time, that he knows most of these gods (some better than others).
He needs to get moving, he has things to do, plans to set in motion.
On to Part Three
He can hear the Cupid's soft sigh, he thinks about pleading, about asking for another chance, but that would be a pointless waste of words. He has another chance anyway. And no idea what to do with it.
“Where now?”
The words hang in the air between the two angels. Finally, Gabriel moves, turning his head to catch the Cupid's profile as he watches swallows dart and dive over the rim of the canyon wall.
“It is not so much a matter of where... more a matter of when.”
When Gabriel next has a moment to breath, he wonders if this is what it feels like to be hit by a train. Time rips through him, he can feel his wings flare behind him, a brace against the invisible winds. Memories flood into him, slotting neatly into his mind, filling gaps he wasn't aware he had.
Finally, Gabriel realises that something much bigger than a Cupid is behind this whole scheme. Something much bigger than an archangel even. His eyes widen in disbelief as he watches himself wreak merry havoc on a small college town. He remembers how Dean had arrived, younger brother in tow.
How had he not known? A smile curves the corners of his mouth as the pranks play out in the back of his mind. He watches from high in the corner of the hall as two lingerie-clad creations beat on Dean as another creation, this time of himself sits sprawled in one of the uncomfortable plastic seats shovelling candy into his mouth as if he was watching a movie.
He notices Dean keeping an eye out for his younger brother, even though they had been at each others throats not hours before. And then the copy down below is talking and Gabriel watches as he says, “Dean, Dean. I didn't want to do this...” And Dean is rising to his feet, the strangest of looks on his face as he plunges the stake into the Janitor's chest.
“I didn't either.” It makes Gabriel wonder if Dean had known, if he had connected the golden eyed trickster with the boy from high school who had disappeared almost in front of his eyes.
Another gust and Gabriel remembers the Mystery Spot, remembers killing Dean again and again and again - a vain attempt to deny the feelings inside. He remembers hating Dean for his closeness with his his brother; the way Dean would always stand up for him, would go to Hell for him.
None of Gabriel's brothers had spoken to him in centuries. Okay, he had gone native, had hidden himself here on Earth, but really, it wouldn't be that hard to find him if you were determined enough. The Winchester's had done it twice and they were only human. How come Sam got to have a brother who loved him, who would die for him, and Gabriel didn't.
He was both inventive and cruel and Gabriel felt tears track down his cheeks as he relived the moment that Sam had killed Dean, fighting over an axe. The falling desk was a classic though, whichever way you looked at it. Then Sam had found him, that one tiny slip enough to alert Sam. He had threatened Gabriel but had let him go and Gabriel hadn't been able to stop.
Dean died.
Dean died and Sam was alone and Gabriel was alone and it didn't make things better.
Gabriel had made it easy for Sam to track him down, the guilt and pain eating at his insides as he watched the easy-going, smiling Sam disappear, consumed by the Sam that wanted nothing but revenge, nothing but his brother. He watched Sam hone his body and his mind, his focus a point of singularity in a universe that just didn't care.
It wasn't fair.
He offered himself up to Sam, he tried to warn him that this kind of love didn't last, that everyone would leave and the more attached you got, the worse it hurt when that love was ripped away from you. No-one stayed, not even God. The only thing that remained, that was eternal, was pain, and if you wanted fun you had to steal it from someone else.
But Sam wouldn't listen, he begged, tears shimmering in those kaleidoscopic eyes and Gabriel couldn't resist. Even though he knew how it would all end - in tears and snot and blood, so much blood. He threw up his arms in disgust and sent them back. They were on their own, he had done his best.
But he couldn't leave well enough alone. He had felt it when Dean had died again, when the Righteous Man had gone to Hell. Michael was on the fast track to getting exactly what he wanted and Gabriel was done with it all. He felt it even more when the legion of angels had flown down into Hell. He had expanded his grace, trying to save at least one of them from the tortures that waited below.
Even though this was his brothers plan, even though it was supposed to happen, he couldn't bear to see his younger siblings suffer and he shoved his strength into one of them, Castiel, a minor angel.
He felt it the moment Castiel touched Dean, felt some of his grace dragged into the rebuilding of Dean, hated every part of Castiel that went into it. But Dean was out of Hell and he had a guardian angel. A tiny part of Gabriel smiled, the rest was filled with envy.
Gabriel came back to himself briefly, found himself still on the edge of the Canyon, on his knees, hands fisted into the dirt, tears sticky on his cheeks. He tried to look up at the Cupid, to ask for time to breathe but the wind stole his breath along with his feathers, tugging pinions and vanes, his grace floating into the sky, dragging through the dust in a pile of fluffy golden down and amber barred feathers.
Another memory barrelled into him. He had been amusing himself, staying far away from the Winchester's. He was done with humanity, was going to take his jollies whilst he still could, before his brothers blew it all to shit.
But they found him out, hunted him down and it was so hard to resist. He disguised himself as Dr Sexy MD. Gabriel knew Dean had a thing for the show, that he admired, maybe even found Dr Sexy attractive. And Gabriel wanted Dean to look at him like that. Even though Dean wouldn't remember him.
When Dean grabbed him and held him against the wall (and curse himself once again for forgetting about the little details), Gabriel felt a shiver run through him. He had always been so strong, always at the top of the pile and the thought of Dean dominating him did things to his insides that he had never felt before.
Dean was filled with anger, anger at a world that didn't know about his sacrifices, anger at the angels who kept trying to end it and anger at a God that simply didn't care. Gabriel fought back. He banished Castiel, hurt Sam. He thought the best part was turning Sam and the car into one being.
Dean loved them both, wouldn't that be better? But no! Then finally, Dean called on him, called him down to Earth and Gabriel came. What else could he do? How could he have known that it was all a trap?
Tears trickle unnoticed down the archangel's face as he recalls the words that Dean had hurled him in that empty warehouse. The way Dean had looked at him, eyes dark, filled with pain and the knowledge that things would never get better. Gabriel knew that he could have done more, could have stood up to his brothers, but why should he? No one had ever cared what happened to him!
He watched still and silent as the water fell around him, extinguishing the flames, setting him free. He watched as Dean and Sam and his little brother Castiel walked out and left him. But then they always left didn't they?
---II---
Gabriel comes back to himself, sprawled in the dirt, face wet with tears. He pulls at his grace, feeling the tatters of his wings shiver painfully behind him. The pain drags a moan from him and it takes him a long moment before he can pull himself to his feet. The Cupid is staring at him, face creased with concern and sympathetic pain.
“Gabriel - do you...”
Gabriel waves a hand at the Cupid, he can do this himself, he can. He staggers awkwardly upright, craning his head round to try and see his wings. Even on this plane he can still see the shimmering image of them, can see the Cupid's spread wide and fluffy behind his back.
Gabriel's wings are... actually Gabriel doesn't have a word for it. Golden eyes widen and he turns and retches onto the dusty ground at the side of the path. The visible signs of his grace, his power, are mangled and torn. Feathers stick out at odd angles, vanes twisted and bent. Huge gaps in the primary and secondary feathers mean that he can't fly.
The coverts are less damaged, but it will take hours, if not days, to work through all the feathers; to oil them and realign the barbs so that they lie sleek and smooth.
“I'm sorry, Gabriel. I would never have wished this on you. I can help if you'll let me. Would you like me to...” The Cupid is wringing his hands, tears hovering on ridiculously long lashes, flesh quivering with the force of his despair. Gabriel hauls himself upright and reaches out to the distraught angel.
“No. It's okay. I know that you didn't do this. I could feel Him. I could feel Him!” Despite the pain, Gabriel manages a small smile, the knowledge that his Father is still around warming the small cold part of him buried deep inside.
His memories are complete now and he knows where he has to be. He knows that his brother is about to play one of his final cards. His Father is not the only god that humans have worshipped and anyone else with power is a threat to be eliminated in Lucifer's eyes. Of course, it helps that Gabriel has been down here for a long time, that he knows most of these gods (some better than others).
He needs to get moving, he has things to do, plans to set in motion.
On to Part Three