FIC: A Thousand Steps to Home 2/2
Title: A Thousand Steps to Home
Author: placeofinsanity/Miss ’Drea
Rating: NC-17 eventually
Word Count: +15,000
Fandom/Pairing: Supernatural - Sam/Gabriel, Dean/Castiel, Becky/Chuck
Summary: When Sam gets blinded on a relatively routine hunt, they don’t realize that someone, something, much more terrible is behind it.
Disclaimer: Not mine, Kripke and Gamble own all. Siiiigh.
Warnings: Overuse of bad medical terms that came from watching too much House M.D. Some OCs, and some Angel Lore heavily borrowed from The Dresden Files. Lasciel was just too cool not to use.
Fic Post Here.
There was a warm body in his bed.
Sam tightened his grip on whoever was spooned up beside him and found skin too hot to be human under his fingertips. “Gabriel,” he said warningly, his voice sleep rough and confused. “What are you doing here?”
“You were crying in your sleep. Dean didn’t hear you.” The answer was short and sweet and suddenly Sam’s arms are empty.
“So you decided to crawl into bed with me?” Sam asked skeptically, realizing his eyes hurt, like he’s been looking at light too bright.
Gabriel was quiet for a second. “It got you to stop crying,” he said, a little sadly. “And you’re warm.”
“You’re warmer,” Sam felt compelled to point out. The bed shifted a little and Sam realized that Gabriel had sat at the end of it. “Our realtor is a psychic,” he announced to cover the awkward silence. Gabriel said nothing but Sam could feel him against his leg. “She told me not to push you away.”
“Wh-really?” His shock was audible and Sam couldn’t help but smile even after the dreams.
Sam nodded and reached for his glasses, settling them on his nose. “Uh huh, oddly enough.” He nudged Gabriel’s hip with his knee. “So. You want to stay for breakfast?”
Gabriel’s hesitance was surprisingly wounding, but Sam waited him out, patient for the gears to stop turning in the Archangel’s head. “Yeah,” Gabriel said finally. “Sure.”
Sam slipped out of bed, wavering slightly once he got to his feet. Gabriel was right there though, gripping his elbow and holding him steady. “Thanks,” Sam said shortly.
“How many steps, Sam?” Gabriel asked quietly.
He pulled in a deep breath. “Six, to the dresser.” Gabriel counted with him as he walked, one hand out stretched to touch the top of the hardwood dresser. “Everything is labeled,” he said slowly. “I’m still learning braille so it’s slow going.”
“You’ve already started learning braille?” Gabriel sounded incredulous. “You’ve been blind for what, a month?”
Sam gave him a dry glance, the expression unfettered by his shut eyes. “I’m blind. Not a moron. I have to learn sometime, right? What use am I to Dean if I can’t even read?”
He could hear Gabriel’s smile. “You’re something else, Gigantor.”
Sam tugged his shirt over his head, feeling with rough, over-sensitive fingers for the drawer with the T-Shirt label.
The bed creaked and Sam figured that Gabriel had sat back down, giving him the space he needed to do it on his own. He found the drawer easily enough, pulling it smoothly open and then reaching in for the packaged clothing items within. Warm colors on the left, cool colors on the right, and black in the middle. He felt around until he found the color he wanted, green, and pulled out the one labeled ‘button-down’. He shrugged it on over the white a-tank he wore to bed, feeling for the small buttons.
“Need a hand?” Gabriel offered unobtrusively. “I could button it for you?”
Sam paused. He had gotten the buttons wrong the day before, and Castiel had been the one to fix them for him; he was never going to live down that shame. “Yes please,” he said quietly, turning to face the Archangel in nothing more than the shirt and his boxer-briefs.
Gabriel’s hands, warm and shaking very slightly were suddenly on his chest, and he slowly did up the small buttons, starting from the bottom to make sure that they came up even. “So,” Gabriel murmured. “How are you going to announce me to the room?”
Sam smiled, warm and genuine. “Here’s the new cook. Move over Dean.”
It surprised a laugh from Gabriel and Sam wished he could see it. “I see how it is, Sasquatch,” he said. “Invite me to breakfast and then chain me to the stove.”
“You can create food with a fingersnap,” Sam pointed out. “Much less time consuming than actually making omelets and hash browns.”
“And I never get them wrong,” Gabriel boasted, finishing up the last button. “Done.”
Sam smiled. “Thanks,” he said and turned back to the dresser, haltingly. He felt along the drawers labels, finding ‘jeans’ relatively easily. He’d always left his pants in the bottom most drawer anyway, and a habit of a lifetime was hard to break. Like the shirts, everything was packaged and color coded, darks on the left and lights on the right. He picked a pair of stone-washed light colored jeans; they’d been on top with the name ‘favorite’ in braille on the label instead of a color.
He had a system now. Things were going to be okay.
*
“Here be the cook,” Sam called to the room in general, even though he could feel Castiel’s presence like a weight in the air. “Move over Dean.” The whole room paused, and Sam pushed Gabriel out in front of him.
He could feel Dean’s concession before Dean even spoke. “Yeah, all right,” Dean muttered. “Work your magic, Trickster.”
There was a familiar snap, and then the aroma of breakfast floated through the air. Sam felt someone come up next to him, not Dean and not the newly familiar Gabriel. Castiel. “Thank you,” he whispered in Sam’s ear.
Castiel was barely an Angel, but Sam had given him back a brother. “Hey bro,” Gabriel said, like he knew what they were talking about. “You started eating yet?”
“I find myself quite partial to Dean’s cooking,” Castiel answered. “So, yes.”
Sam was almost crippled by the longing to be able to look over at Dean and share a look, instead he felt Dean’s gun calloused hand brush over the top of his head and he smiled. They’d make it work.
As soon as Gabriel quietly identified everything on the table and where it was, Sam was able to eat, though much more slowly. Of course, it took longer as Dean kept moving his glass of orange juice - and he never moved it to the same place twice. “Dean ”
“What?” his brother answered innocently, too innocently to be truth.
“I can hear you,” Sam gritted out between his teeth.
“You hear nothing ” Dean shot back. “It’s Cas ”
Sam snorted and turned his head towards the power that emanated from Castiel. He swallowed whatever he had been chewing and said, very primly, “I believe this is the part where I deny you sex.”
Gabriel and Sam burst out laughing, as Dean choked on his eggs. “Cas ” He sputtered. “They don’t need to know anything ”
“Yes we do,” chorused Sam and Gabriel and even though Sam couldn’t see him, he knew that Gabriel had grinned at him.
Sam didn’t understand why he could feel the Angels so much clearer than Dean himself, or Meryn when she came by. There was...something, about Chuck but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was. He simply knew when Castiel gave him a brief smile, or when Gabriel would appear in a room. Meryn, it always felt like she was reaching out to touch him, even when she was half way across the room going over things with Dean. Bobby, Becky and anyone else coming to the house he had to guess about.
He was right, most of the time.
“Cas, because Dean sucks at retelling things,” he announced once the laughter had died down some, “you should give us all the details.”
He felt Castiel shift very slightly in his seat, and Sam grinned into his orange juice as Dean grumbled under his breath. “I am not sure what to say,” Castiel said. “He is very skilled at kissing, as well as sexual intercourse itself.”
Sam was sure that Cas might have actually said more, but suddenly he could hear the distinctive sound of kissing. “Get a room ” he called over to his brother and his Angel. There was a telltale finger snap, and then he and Gabriel were alone.
As soon as Sam had eaten his fill, which went by much faster without Dean there to steal his orange juice and move it on him, Gabriel clasped his shoulder. “I want to take you somewhere. May I?”
The question was oddly formal and Sam hesitated before nodding. “Sure,” he said. “Get me back before dinner.”
“Am I to cook that too?” Gabriel asked, but Sam could tell he was teasing.
“Only if you want to,” Sam answered, smiling. Gabriel’s hand tightened on Sam’s shoulder and there was another finger snap before the world shifted away around him, and he suddenly found himself in a different place.
He was seated on a very comfortable bed, and the air smelled like flowers. The covers he sat on were velvety, soft and luxurious. “Gabriel?” he called hesitantly, “I’d try and find you, but I don’t know where the door is.”
Just as suddenly as Sam appeared on the bed, Gabriel was by his side. “I can’t heal your eyesight, Sasquatch,” he said, an odd mix of a smile and sadness. “But I can help you hone the rest of your senses.”
“Is this another Daredevil reference?” Sam asked dryly.
Gabriel laughed. “No. Considering we just ate, we’ll leave the taste test for another day,” he said, still grinning. “So, Gigantor, this is a touch test.”
Sam could feel his smile freeze. “Touch test?”
“Don’t worry, Sasquatch. It’s nothing too inappropriate.” Sam got the feeling that Gabriel winked. “I just want you to identify what I’m touching you with, or if I hand you something, what it is.”
“Okay,” Sam murmured. “Do your worst.”
Something lightly touched his cheek, and traced over the high curve of the bone, down the clean line of his jaw to paint a zigzag design over the vein of his jugular. It skipped over the cloth covering his shoulders to swirl down his bicep, over his forearms to circle his wrist with a feather light touch. “Feather,” Sam answered, goose-bumps shivering over his skin.
“What kind?” Gabriel asked, and Sam rolled his eyes.
“Crow, probably.”
Delighted, Gabriel laughed again, discarding the feather. “Good guess,” he said, and Sam could feel the glow of his pleasure. “Ready for the next?”
“Yes,” he answered, wondering what else the Archangel had in store for him. Something soft but heavy was put into his hands, and he turned it over in his palms, rubbing his calloused fingers over the surface. It was square, soft, lightly furred, and had stitching on its edges. “This is a pillow,” he stated with certainty. “Probably faux fur.”
Gabriel took it from him and lightly hit him over the top of the head. “Fake fur?” he asked, outrage and laughter ringing his words with gold, “me?”
“It’s probably some garish color of red too,” Sam shot back, crossing his arms over his chest.
Looking down at the bright red pillow, Gabriel decided that Sam was far too cocky and remembered far too much of their first meeting. “Shut up,” he said good-naturedly. “This next one is hard ”
Sam snorted. “Hit me,” he challenged Gabriel.
Gabriel took his hands again, laying a length of cloth in them, and closed Sam’s fingers around it. It was as soft as water, and just as cool, flowing through Sam’s hands, trailing expressively over the slope of his wrist, winding around his thumbs. “Silk,” Sam murmured, lifting the fabric up to his face. “Really, really expensive silk.”
He rubbed it against his cheek and Gabriel looked away. “You like silk then, Sammy?” he asked, and Sam nodded. He didn’t correct the nickname. Gabriel snapped his fingers and the outfit that Sam had so struggled to put on correctly was gone, replaced by a silk robe made of the same material he held in his hand.
Sam sighed. “What color is it?” he asked.
“Green,” Gabriel said. “I almost chose pink but decided that it wasn’t your color.”
Snorting out a laugh, Sam shook his head. “Angel Eye for the Straight Guy, huh?”
“Oh honey,” Gabriel said, affected. “Nothing I can do about your heinous wardrobe.”
“You’re insane,” Sam commented. “I just thought you should know.”
Nodding in agreement, Gabriel pulled over his next test item. “I’m certifiable, its why I lasted so many years as Loki.”
Sam thought about it for a second, before frowning. “How did you last so many years as Loki, anyway? I mean, you’re an Angel of the frickin’ Lord.”
Gabriel pressed his lips together and thought for a second. “Everyone knows how to hide, Sammy. I’m just better at it than most. I might not have been exiled like my brother, but I was as good as.” He heaved a heavy sigh. “I would never be the prodigal son.”
Sam was quiet a second. “I understand.”
And he did, which was why Gabriel let the moment drop. “Ready for the next test?” He didn’t let Sam answer, just dropped the squirming ball of fur drop directly into his lap. Sam had to scramble to catch it before it took off again, and the small kitten immediately curled up against his chest, and began purring.
“A cat?” Sam asked, bewildered. “Why do you have a cat?”
“Her name is Hrist. She was a Valkyrie.”
“The cat?”
“No, the name ” Gabriel pushed his shoulder lightly and the cat meowed plaintively when her pillow shifted under her. “Ready for your next test?”
Sam put the cat to one side and she curled up next to his thigh, warm and purring loudly. “As long as we can take the cat home with us.”
“You want to steal my cat? Sammy I’m wounded ”
“Just give me the next test, Trickster,” Sam said laughing, and Gabriel silenced him with a kiss, similar than how Dean did with Castiel only hours before. The laughter died against Gabriel’s warm lips, and Sam sat there, absolutely still, not kissing back but neither pulling away. Gabriel took it as permission, and swiped his tongue across Sam’s, teasing the corner of his closed mouth with his lips, leaving gentle, light kisses against the skin there. With a sigh, Sam opened his mouth, allowing Gabriel access. Sam tasted like fire, the smokey after burned taste of wood, and a hint of orange, the juice from that morning.
Their tongues slid together and Sam pulled way, drawing a whine from Gabriel that was almost unconscious with sincerity. “What is this, Gabe?” he asked softly, so close that Gabriel could see his reflection in Sam’s unseeing eyes.
“Desire, Sam,” Gabriel answered, hushed. “It’s your next feeling test. I am giving you desire.”
“Gabe...” he murmured. “You don’t have to do this.”
Gabriel smiled. “Sure I do, Sammy. But more than that...I want to.” He pulled back, giving Sam space. “I can see that I was too early.” Gabriel smiled briefly. “I’ll try again later.” There was a finger snap before Sam could stop him and he found himself back on the couch at his house, the purring cat still sleeping beside him.
*
Sam was looking at the Earth. It was a massive ball of blue, white and green, large, beautiful and impossible. He turned to look at Lucifer who sat beside him on the lunar rock. “You realize that even if I still had sight, this would be impossible.”
Lucifer laughed and the sound crashed over Sam in a wave of love. “Good thing this is a dream, then.”
Shrugging, Sam gave him the point. He watched as the clouds moved under the atmosphere, as the Earth spun and tilted on its axis. The stars were bright but no sound pierced the bubble that Lucifer had them in. “Everything really is silent in space,” Sam mused out loud. “It’s so...peaceful here.”
Grinning, Lucifer nodded. “I like it here. It’s why I chose this place first.”
They sat together in silence, both watching the Earth. “What’s your real name?” Sam asked, as the minutes stretched on. “All the other Angels we met had their names ending in -iel or -ael.”
Lucifer’s smile faded slowly and he looked down at the pock marked soil of the moon. “Luciel,” he said quietly. “Changing my Name was another sword jab against my Father.”
Sam frowned. “Then...Zachariah?”
“Zachariel, and he too, uses the Changing of his Name as his own small rebellion.” Lucifer - Luciel - looked away, gazing out over the craters of the moon. “Names have power, Sam. Even I don’t know your True Name.”
“Uriel, he called it Samael,” Sam offered, but it had been so long that the name no longer made him shudder.
“Ah, yes. Samael, my favored few, the Destroyer.” Lucifer laughed and it sounded like nails grating down a chalkboard. “No, that’s not you, my Host.”
Sam followed his gaze, staring hard at the unmoving American flag. “Others fell? You took some with you?”
“Does not every general have lieutenants and commanders? I wielded an army, my Host. A powerful army of light and righteous anger.” His white lips turned up in a sardonic smirk. “No wars were ever won through anger alone. I was rash, foolish. I will not make that mistake again, my Host.” Lucifer’s smile turned inward for a minute. “Samael, Lasciel, Anduriel...my favored three. It makes sense that Uriel would call you thus, my Host.”
“Lasciel? Anduriel?” Sam told himself he was gathering information. He told himself he wasn’t interested.
“Lasciel, the Temptress. Anduriel, the Scourge.” Lucifer smiled. “They are still in Hell.” His smile hardened. “Where they belong.” Sam said nothing more and they watched silently for long hours that flew by like seconds. “The Dawn comes, my Host.”
Sunlight burst over the edge of the Earth, and Sam shielded his eyes from the suddenly bright light -
-And found himself awake, laying in bed, darkness pressing at his opened eyes.
*
“Keep chanting,” she demanded of the men around her. Thirteen men, bulky with muscle and shirtless, knelt around a large circle painted into the cement floor. They were glistening with sweat and oil, their mouths moving in tandem, their voices a low drone of languages.
Sumerian, for strength. Latin, for knowledge. Phoenician, for chance. Greek, for courage. And Enochian, for luck.
She sat in the ornate chair just behind her chanting minions, smiling as the body in the center of her circle twitched and moaned. It was also a man, and he was tall, as tall as the circle was wide, spread eagled and tied to hooks in the floor, keeping him from flailing and breaking the brick dust that closed the spell off. His hair was long, just a touch too long to be fashionable and he had hazel eyes. Rather he did, had they not been cut out and placed in a jar just outside his reach.
“My lady?” A woman asked from her left and she turned to gaze down at Anduriel. “Yes, my sister?”
“Luciel is on the move,” the Scourge reported breathlessly. “He has packed up his Host of demons and fled to Detroit, and has, at least for the moment, stopped there.”
“And the Winchester brothers?” she asked, white eyes shining with delight.
Anduriel glanced down at the notebook she held. “They have bought a house, my Lady. In Black Hills, South Dakota. But their house is protected, built and created by a psychic and a Priest.”
She waved a hand. “Houses can burn down. I’m not worried. What does our dear General have planned?”
“He doesn’t seem to have...anything...planned,” Anduriel responded. “He has given Samuel Winchester six months to give in, before he begins breaking rules. My lady?” She looked down at Anduriel. “Did he really forget about us in Hell?”
“Of course he did,” Samael spat from her other side as he walked into the room. “He got what he wanted, he’s free, out of the Cage that trapped us too. Now he wants his Host, and his World and we three who followed him out of Heaven were left behind.”
Anduriel looked away, back up at her. “My lady?” she implored.
“Stop sniveling, Anduriel,” Lasciel said, tiredly. “Luciel left us behind. This magick...it is not for his benefit but ours.” She looked at her two lieutenants, and offered them a smile. Lasciel, Lilith, the Temptress, all. “Don’t worry your pretty heads, my sweets. Samuel Winchester will give in, sooner or later. Then, we will make our move.”
The chanting droned on, and the hazel eyes that floated in blood and ichor were beginning to disintegrate. “Not long now,” Samael murmured.
“No,” Lasciel replied. “Not at all.”
*
Sam couldn’t keep track of everyone in the room. Chuck, he could feel Chuck was by the drinks, one hand on a beer, the other probably around Becky, if the chatter was anything to go by. Meryn was right next to her, and Sam tuned them out. Cas and Dean were on the couch, he could hear them talking in low tones, and Bobby was clomping in from the kitchen.
Gabriel had yet to show up. He’d been invited, he would have heard it had he been listening to Angel Radio, as Cas had told him that the easiest way to get his attention was to ask for him, like in prayer. But Gabriel hadn’t come to their ‘house warming’ party.
Hrist, the cat that Gabriel had given them, was meowing for handouts at Bobby’s feetk, twining her way around his ankles and tripping him up. Then, from somewhere in the house, Sam could hear Gabriel appear. He heard the familiar clatter of his feet and Gabriel bounced through the door from the hall. “Honey, I’m home,” he called and there were a number of catcalls and laughter.
Sam could feel Meryn immediately latch on to Gabriel, could feel them both like a psychic hum just under his skin. “Why, Ms. Jackson I’m surprised to see you here,” he could hear Gabriel say, if he listened intently enough. “When Gigantor told me his realtor was a psychic, he didn’t tell me it was you.”
Sam tried not to sulk that Gabriel wasn’t paying him any attention, because just as suddenly as Gabriel had spoken, he could hear Meryn whispering in his ear. And Gabriel was on his lap, straddling, hands on either side of his head. “Gabe,” Sam said dryly. “There’s a perfectly good chair right next to this one. That I’m in.”
“My way,” Gabriel said to him, very seriously, “is much more fun.”
Sam could feel the regard of every single person in the room and he stood abruptly, dislodging Gabriel. “I’m going to bed,” he said tiredly. “I...I’m tired.” He made his escape, made slow by counting steps under his breath until he reached the sanctuary of his silent room, and the dreams Luciel would give him.
*
“I wasn’t expecting you again, my Host. At least,” Luciel added, “not so early.” Sam shook his head and looked away, over the horizon where the ocean beat a staccato beat against the sandy shore. The sun was setting, painting the sky with orange and gold. “Are you all right, my Host?”
“I wish you wouldn’t call me that,” Sam murmured, weary. “I’m not your Host. I won’t be your Host.” He smirked derisively. “And you don’t want me anyway, at least, not like this.” He gestured to his eyes.
Luciel - Lucifer - Light Bringer - Light of God - the only comfort in the world of darkness, it didn’t matter anymore. Sam turned to look at him and found that the body Lucifer had taken was so far deteriorated that his true Form was shining through. “Your six months are almost up, Sam,” he said, his voice hard. “Then we do this the hard way.”
“Nothing could be harder than this,” Sam whispered.
“Blindness?” Lucifer asked, full of scorn. “The true son of my Father could heal blindness, we were all given the power to do so. But me, my brothers, the eldest your Gabriel, we were all unable to restore your sight. Something, something is wrong, don’t you see, my Host?”
Sam snorted. “Of course I see, Luciel. But only in here.”
“I will find who is keeping your eyes from you, my Host,” Lucifer whispered, then he was gone, and only the ocean remained. Sam lay there, drifting in and out of his own dreams, letting the tide wash up and chase his bare ankles. He’d always loved the ocean, since Dean had taken him to Myrtle Beach when he was very young. Their father had been gone and it was just them, the sun and the water.
“I thought I might find you in here somewhere,” Gabriel said, dropping down next to him. “I can see why you got tired of your party when you have a view like this to fall asleep with.” He turned his head towards Sam’s and eyed him with some degree of displeasure. “Can I tell you something?” he asked, and Sam opened his mouth to tell him no but Gabriel talked right over him. “You’re being an epic douchebag.” He smiled pleasantly. “Just thought you ought to know.”
“I’m tired, Gabriel.” Sam tilted his head back to stare up at the sky, watching as the stars came out one, by one. Gabriel’s face filled his vision and Sam scowled. “What are you doing here anyway?”
“I’m here to...” Gabriel touched his tongue to his upper lip and smiled. “I’m here to fulfill your random sex dream quota for the month.” With that, Gabriel kissed him, right there on the beach. “It’ll be so much better because you can see, but don’t worry, I’ll do this when you wake up too.”
The air around them shimmered with a finger snap and Sam found himself completely naked to Gabriel’s regard. “You What Gabe ” He flailed uselessly for a minute or two before Gabriel held his hands down, stretched up over his head.
“Just shut up and enjoy, Gigantor,” Gabriel murmured against the skin of his face.
He kissed down the center of Sam’s chest, letting his wrists go in favor of rubbing smooth palms over Sam’s nipples. Sam jerked and buried his fingers in the hot sand, levering up on his elbows to look down at the top of Gabriel’s head. It was just a dream anyway, and fighting in a dream was useless - like fighting yourself.
And Sam really wanted the blow job. It was still a surprise when Gabriel’s head dipped down and he pressed an open mouthed kiss to the head of Sam’s newly interested cock. Sam shouted, jerking up against Gabriel and Gabriel chuckled against Sam’s heated skin. “You sure about this, Sasquatch?”
“While I’m asleep maybe,” Sam grunted, twitching. “You wouldn’t be the first guy I’ve slept with.”
Gabriel grinned brilliantly and Sam realized with a remote pang that he would miss that grin when he woke up. “I’ll convince you in the morning,” Gabriel decided and swallowed Sam’s half hard cock in one motion.
Sam shouted, hips jerking, hardening so fast he could feel the blood loss in his head. His arms almost gave out when the pleasure spread, but Sam was determined to watch. He wouldn’t have another chance. Gabriel sucked hard, hollowing his cheeks and twining his tongue around Sam’s thick cock, cupping his balls in one hand.
He tasted like salt and maybe that was the ocean, swirling up around their legs as high tide came in. Sam’s hips were flexing each time Gabriel swallowed, and he ground his own aching erection into the sand for some sort of relief. He groaned as the sand formed a neat divot to fuck into and Sam cried out as the vibrations sang along his neglected nerve endings.
“Fuck, Gabriel, please,” he panted out, elbows slipping in the sand, eyes burning hot on the crown of Gabriel’s head.
Gabriel pulled off, snapping away his clothes to drape himself over Sam, rubbing their slick erections together. “How’s this for a touch test, Sam?” he grunted, grinding down hard and sliding his cock into the groove where Sam’s torso met his leg.
“Might need another test run,” Sam growled, pulling Gabriel in for another kiss. Gabriel kissed him deeply, letting Sam taste himself on his tongue, fucking his mouth and fucking his hips, until Sam grunted, eyes rolling and came in hot spurts between them.
It was just enough for Gabriel to reach his own orgasm, twitching and shuddering against the side of Sam’s neck. He’d bitten down, when he had come, and there was an angry purple bruise there. He avoided touching it, for now, in case he healed it on accident.
“Another test run?” he asked of Sam, grinning the grin of the sexually sated.
“I-,” Sam blinked and opened his eyes to darkness. “What?”
He was alone.
*
Dean was staring at him. He could feel it, a slight itch between his shoulder blades. “Okay,” Sam said finally. “What?”
“Do you have a...” Dean trailed off, clearing his throat. He rallied and tried again. “Cas and I...it doesn’t bother you, right?”
Sam contemplated telling Dean about his dream about Gabriel, but shook his head instead. “No dude, of course not.” Dean’s silence was skeptical and Sam finally put down the Braille learning book. “Why would it bother me?” he asked Dean, turning his head in the direction he knew Dean to be.
“Um, dude, I don’t know if you noticed but Cas is a guy.” Sam snorted and even though he couldn’t actually see Dean’s face, he knew that his brother was glaring. “I’m serious ” Dean said.
Sighing, Sam stood and counted the steps to the couch, dropping down beside Dean and knocking their shoulders together. “I’m well aware that Cas is a guy, thank you very much Mr. Obvious. Why would that bother me?”
He felt Dean shrug, rubbing their shoulders together. “I never brought men home. I thought it would...weird you out.”
Sam couldn’t help but laugh. “Dude, Dean...really? I went to college.”
“And that means...what exactly?” Dean asked, bemused.
“It means I did a lot of experimenting before Jess.” Dean snorted out a laugh and threw his arm around Sam in a half hug. “So no, Cas being male does not bother me in the slightest.”
Dean grinned and ruffled Sam’s hair. “I just wanted to check.” There was a brief click and the TV came on, quietly, so Sam settled in against his brother’s side to listen to the news, or the documentary on horror that Dean would eventually pick. With Dean murmuring graphic descriptions in his ear, he felt like he could almost see again.
Even if a woman didn’t really give birth to a centaur in Minnesota.
*
“My Host, we don’t have much time.”
Sam opened his eyes and turned to look at Lucifer. His body was falling apart, and through the rends and folds of tattered flesh, his true form flickered an angry red. “Luciel?” he asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes. A quick glanced showed him the heavens, spinning stars and galaxies. “Luciel what’s wrong?”
“Do you remember when I spoke of my Favored Three, Anduriel, Lasciel and Samael?” Sam nodded once. “I believed they were in Hell. I was wrong.”
Sam went cold all over, and he took a quick step towards Lucifer. “I don’t understand.”
“There is much dark magic in the area around Butte, Montana. I had some of my demons follow through on an investigation. Things weren’t as they seemed. I found Anduriel there, and where Anduriel is, Samael and Lasciel aren’t far behind.”
“What does this have to do with me?” Sam asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
Lucifer sighed heavily. “It is a specific spell. It’s a mix of voodoo and voodoun practices, where the practitioners use a human doll, someone with many of the same characteristics as their target. They then keep their doll alive, and create a psychic link so whatever they do to the doll is repeated on their intended target.” Hope blossomed in Sam’s chest so hard it hurt and nearly brought him to his knees. “Eventually, the damage becomes permanent and they kill the doll, severing the psychic link and leaving their target injured or perhaps even dead.”
“How am I supposed to tell Dean that?” Sam asked.
“Easily, my Host.” The Devil grinned and jabbed Sam in the forehead with two fingers. “You had a vision.”
The spinning heavens dissolved around him like grains of sand inside an hourglass, and pain exploded over his temples, pouring into his mind like fire. He could see them, three figures on a dais, one on a throne, two standing guard beside her. A white-hot circle, and a man without eyes, screaming in the center.
Sam jerked up, throwing off the covers and nearly falling out of bed. He swallowed, shaking, and his throat felt raw and over-used. He must have been screaming because there was pounding down the stairs as two people came flying into his room. Dean, he could tell, and Castiel. “Sammy?” Dean asked urgently. “You were screaming, what’s wrong?”
His useless eyes were leaking tears and he blinked them away, relishing the sting. “I had...I think it was a vision, Dean.”
“Fuck,” Dean swore, and pushed away from the bed. “About what?”
“I don’t...I think it was me. I think I know why I’m blind.” Everyone froze and Sam shifted when the tension rose to unbearable heights in the room. “There were three people, two women, one man, they were overseeing a circle, and it burned. There was a man in the middle, he looked like me. His eyes were in a jar.”
“Where?” Dean demanded.
Sam shrugged. “I didn’t get a bead on it, it...hurt.”
He felt Dean’s hands tilt his head up and press a cloth to his nose. He hadn’t even realized his nose was bleeding. “I will call Meryn Jackson. She may be able to use her psychic powers to pinpoint where this dark magic is coming from,” Castiel said from the doorway.
“Pray,” Dean said. “We might need Gabriel in for this.”
So Sam closed his eyes and opened his mind, ignoring the hollow sound of laughter from Lucifer that echoed between his perfect ears.
*
Meryn unrolled a large map of the United States, tossing a purple bic lighter at Castiel. “Light those white candles for me? All five of them.” Sam sat in the chair across for her, feeling power raise with each white candle lit.
“I’m not a conventional psychic,” Meryn explained. “I come from many different schools of thought and even more religious backgrounds. It’s how I knew Loki, er, Gabriel. A friend of mine delved in too deep and summoned Loki. I knew he wasn’t a Trickster God the minute he appeared.” She placed something on the map. “I use my fire quartz as a diviner. It’s quartz crystal that grew out of rusted metal; I broke it off a railroad trestle when I was thirteen.”
Dean grunted. “How does it work?”
“It’s the same as any power, Mr. Winchester,” she said in her best school teacher voice. “If we can pinpoint a city, if you find me a map of the city, I can pinpoint a street.”
Sam really wished he could see what she was doing, because he could feel her power pressing in against him on all sides as she took his head, and exhaled once, loud enough to be noticeable.
Dean made a sound, and Castiel hushed him, as Meryn pulled the vision out of skin, through the palm of his hand, into her own fingertips. A second passed, then two, and she gasped. “Whoa. That was...fast. You must have some serious juice, Sam.”
Sam looked down. “I used to.”
Her hand squeezed his once before withdrawing. “Power itself is never evil. Only how it’s used.” She raised her voice a little and looked up, speaking in Dean’s direction. “Butte, Montana.”
“That’s not far,” Dean said. “That’s only a few hours away.”
“If by a few, you mean close to ten,” Meryn said, laughing. She blew out one of the candles and the tension decreased rapidly. “I bet whatever spell they’re casting needs to be close by. Got a map of Butte?”
“No,” Dean said. “But I can find one.”
“Good. Let me know when you do.” She slumped back in her chair. “So Sam,” she asked once Dean and Castiel had left on their errands, “want to explain away your power?”
Sam cleared his throat. “I was one of Azazel’s Children.” She jerked hard enough to upset the table and Sam could feel the blush burn his throat and cheeks. “You know him?”
“Yes. I know of them. But Azazel’s been dead for years...” She trailed off. “You two?”
“I raised Lucifer with my power. I gave it up after. Nothing is worth that.” He crossed his arms over his chest, turning away from him. “How about you?”
Meryn sighed. “I was trained by a Lakota Indian. He told me I was a forest spirit who had forgotten the way home. He and his Shaman broke a spell over me, and suddenly, bam I used to be a Touch Clairvoyant, but it’s not as bad now that I’ve gotten older. I’m still waiting for my Hogwarts Letter.”
Sam grinned, he couldn’t help it. “And what made you get into Real Estate?’
“I’m not really a real estate agent,” she answered, laughing. “But I built this house. All the baseboards and plywood are scribed with Nordic Runes for protection of the home. The Iron layer-work is blessed and was cooled with Holy Water. The cement basement was mixed with salt. The paint was mixed with sea salt, and each of the doorways has more Runes. This place is a psychic hotspot on any map.” She was smiling as she stood up. “I can’t wait for you to see it.”
Gabriel chose then to appear, and Meryn didn’t jump. “He’s all yours, loverboy,” she told the Angel, and then her presence receded to the porch.
“You had a vision?” Gabriel asked without preamble. “About what, when and how?”
“About my blindness. It’s a spell.” He stood up, trying to find Gabriel. “I don’t know where you’re standing so-mph ” He wasn’t expecting the kiss, stood there dumbly for half a second before hauling Gabriel closer, hooking his fingers into the belt loops of the jeans he perpetually wore.
When Gabriel let him go, he pulled Sam’s head down to rest their foreheads together. “It wasn’t just a dream, you know,” Gabriel murmured, and Sam knew he wasn’t talking about the vision. “As soon as this is all over, we’re doing this for real.”
“Okay.” Sam just held Gabriel loosely in the circle of his arms, waiting for Dean to come back with a map, and Castiel to bring back Bobby.
The time for sitting still was over. This was war.
*
“How much longer until the spell is complete?” Anduriel asked, leaning her head against Lasciel’s knee.
“A day, perhaps two,” Lasciel answered absently, stroking her hand over Samael’s hair. “This kind of magic isn’t precise in its timing. The eyes will melt when the eyes will melt. Hopefully,” she added when Anduriel looked up, “it will be sooner rather than later.”
Samael looked up and Lasciel flicked him in the forehead with one finger. “Things are drawing to a close, aren’t they, my Lady.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes, my dearest love,” she cooed, “things will be over with quite soon.”
“How can you tell?” It was petulant and Lasciel frowned down at Anduriel.
“Because,” Lasciel/Lilith answered. “Master’s on the move.”
*
Meryn had a street and a number almost as soon as she’d opened the map. She wore her fire quartz on a necklace, and when she’d taken it off and placed it by her left hand, it just rolled until it rested over a street. She blinked, then laughed.
“What?” Dean barked, running on low and stressed. “What’s funny?”
She grinned wider, shaking her head. “They’re making it easy on me. Which is probably a bad thing, still, the weather patterns aren’t bad, or demonic in nature, so they probably think they’re home free. Spell’s drawing to a close though.” She moved her pendulum and it had left a black mark over a part of the street.
“How far away is that?” asked Dean, and it was Bobby who answered.
“About eleven hours. If we take shifts, we can get there by tomorrow morning.”
Meryn rolled up the map, the sound startling everybody. “I’m sitting this out, guys,” she said quietly. “I’m useless in a fight and I can’t read minds or anything. I’ll hold the fort down here.”
They packed up the car in record time, Castiel and Bobby in the back seat, Sam in the front and Dean driving. Gabriel leaned and told Sam he’d meet them there, before snapping his fingers and fizzing out. Meryn stole all their cell phones and programed her number into it, making them promise to call her.
She gave Sam a hug, and saw them off, settling into the rocking chair on the porch, huddled under a blanket and prayed quietly to whoever might have been listening.
*
Sam drifted off in the car, the familiar purr of the engine under him, the sound of Metallica just under noise level. Bobby was snoring in the back, Castiel staring off into space, and Dean was humming under his breath, like he didn’t want to wake anyone. It was all so blessedly normal that not sleeping simply wasn’t an option.
He fell straight into a dream. Lucifer stood there, in a new body, this one strong, even though his eyes looked like bruises in the man’s handsome face. “My Host,” he said warmly and his voice was the same. “You’re moving, aren’t you?”
Sam nodded. “We found where they are. We’re going to them now.”
“I’m going to meet you there, my Host.” Lucifer promised. “I will smite they who dared harm you.”
“You still can’t have my body, Luciel,” he responded, looking away, over the tree line to the blue sky above. “It’s still mine. I’m still in it.”
Lucifer invaded his personal space, wrapping an arm about Sam’s waist. “Then I will use it once you’ve died, my Host. I don’t have long to wait.”
Sam woke up, feeling unsettled. The feeling increased as he realized that Castiel was staring at him. “You okay, Sammy?” Dean asked cautiously.
“Yeah,” Sam said, wincing when his voice cracked. “Just a weird dream.”
“You dream of Lucifer,” Castiel said, his voice a little awed. “He gave to you his true name.”
Sam closed his eyes and nodded once. “Luciel. Light of God.”
“Have you given him anything, Sam?” Castiel asked, the awe fading into desperation. “Tell me you haven’t.”
“I haven’t,” Sam protested. “I have given him nothing.”
Castiel let the matter drop, and Dean said nothing, only knocking his fist gently into Sam’s shoulder. It was enough to reassure him, before cold dread pooled in his stomach. He had agreed to let Lucifer show him things, he had said yes.
He hoped it didn’t count.
*
Lasciel looked up sharply and swore, almost disrupting the chanting with her vitriol. She knocked Anduriel and Samael aside and stood. “Master’s here,” she hissed. “He doesn’t know I...” She choked, her face turning red, and she flailed a little, trying to get her feet under her.
“Well, well, well, what have we here?” Lucifer mused as he stepped through the door. “The Favored Three. Anduriel, you’re looking well. I do enjoy this new form you have. And Samael, I’m glad you managed to escape Azazel’s clutches, the tyrant. And Lasciel. I heard you were supposed to be dead, but allowing one of your get to masquerade as Lilith? Tsk...” He let her fall. “I’m thoroughly disappointed in all three of you.
“Especially because you are attempting to kill, or at least seriously maim my Host ” His voice rose to a roar but the chanting wore on. “Now, my dearest Lasciel, what in Heaven’s Name were you thinking?”
She flinched, turning her face away. “I wasn’t about to give myself up for dead, Master. You allowed me to seduce Adam away from Eve, in their beautiful garden of death, but Luciel, you betrayed me first.”
“You are the Temptress, my dear,” Lucifer answered. “And now also, the Liar.” He tossed her aside and moved to break the circle. Nothing happened. He pushed his hand through the brick dust but it never moved under his fingers. “What?” he snapped. He whirled on the cowering Anduriel. “Report ”
“It’s magic, Master,” she whispered. “And we warded against you.”
Lucifer smiled, and the sight was terrible. “Then we will wait. Samuel will be here soon.” He settled back in Lasciel/Lilith’s chair. “And then we will see how this ends for you.”
Lasciel sat between Anduriel and Samael, glaring impotently from her place frozen to the floor. Sam would be there in less than four hours.
And then it would be time to use his Yes for good.
*
“Okay, look,” Sam said to the mostly silent car. “We have to figure out what we’re going to do with me. We’re...ha, going in blind and that means I don’t know the layout of anything. I’ll be a sitting duck.”
“So you’ll wait in the car until we break the spell,” Dean said, matter-of-fact, like he hadn’t just told Sam to do the most painful thing in the world.
Sam scowled. “I am not,” he said pointedly, “waiting in the car.”
“Perhaps,” Castiel said shortly, breaking in and diffusing the upcoming fight, “Gabriel would be your eyes.”
Sam twisted in the seat to give Castiel a look over his tinted glasses. “What?” he asked sharply, “how?”
“If he makes a Link with you, the way I did with Dean before I...” Castiel trailed off. “The way I did before I lost my Wings...he will be able to allow you to use his eyes for a short period of time.”
Sam immediately shook his head. “No. Absolutely not.”
Dean glanced at him, he could tell. “Why not?”
“Because that puts Gabriel in danger. And because he won’t want a psychic link with me anyway. I’ll figure it out.” Sam closed his eyes resolutely and ignored any of Dean’s attempts to renew the conversation.
Bobby slept on, and Sam refused to join him.
*
It was a giant warehouse, and Sam dialed Meryn. “We’re here,” he told her when she answered with a sleepy hello.
“They’re on the first floor, deep in. Be quiet, Sam. And be careful. I’ll await your call.” She disconnected without saying anything else.
“First floor,” Sam reiterated. “Deep in.” He thought hard and Gabriel snapped in, making Sam’s ears pop. “Hi Gabe.”
Dean glared. “How the hell do you do that?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “He makes my ears pop.”
Gabriel snorted and pulled Sam in close. He let him do it, walking willingly into the circle of his arms. It was Gabriel who threaded their fingers together, and Dean snorted. “Not wanting a psychic link huh?” he teased and it was so normal that Sam wondered if it would all change if they got his eyes back.
“Let’s go, Boy Wonder,” Bobby grunted, and together the five of them moved in. Sam counted the steps as well as he was able, from the door they entered through to the very door of the Impala.
Just in case.
It wasn’t hard to find the Favored Three. The chanting was loud and didn’t echo. Dean lead them. Bobby brought up the rear. Gabriel took him by the hand again, counting under his own breath in time with Sam.
“Shit,” Dean said, and the chanting suddenly stopped. Pain exploded through Sam’s head and he fell, screaming to his knees. He couldn’t think past the blinding agony that pulsed with his heartbeat, under his cheeks and through his eyes.
Then, like only a month before, everything went coldly, painlessly, dark.
*
Dean glared at the man in the chair. “Who the fuck are you?”
The man laughed. “That’s right. You wouldn’t recognize me. I’m Luciel, Lucifer, Satan, the Devil; pick one.” He smiled, and his teeth were bloody. “I sent Samuel the vision that will save his life.”
“You?” Castiel and Dean chorused.
“Of course me He is my treasured Host. So, please, if one of your mortals would cross that line and break it, please. When Sam wakes up, and he will, he will have his sight again. The ritual didn’t complete.” Lucifer gestured to the three demons behind him. “These were my most favored servants. Anduriel, the Scourge of my destroyed Court. Samael, the Destroyer. And lastly, my dearest love, Lasciel; the Temptress.” Lucifer smiled slyly. “You would better know her as Lilith.”
Dean blinked. “Sam killed her to raise you out of the Cage.”
Lucifer smiled. “Lasciel, please, go ahead. Speak.” He clenched a fist and she choked.
“I used a decoy. Sam hurt me, very badly when he killed Ruby. And the dental hygienist, it was her tainted blood that raised my Lord. But I am not dead. It is impossible to kill me.” She was smiling in triumph, until her body twitched, broke, and small flickers of light burned under her skin.
“Not impossible,” murmured Lucifer. “Are either of you going to be next?” he inquired of Anduriel and Samael.
“No,” Anduriel said. “I never agreed with her stupid plan. Please, by all means, break the circle.”
Bobby glanced at Dean before nudging a hole through the brick dust. Nothing obvious seemed to happen but the man in the middle slumped in his bonds. He didn’t move again.
But Sam did. He covered his eyes, shaking his head, curling up onto his knees. “Sam ” barked Dean. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Sam said. “I’m okay.” Gabriel knelt at his side, pulling his hands away from his bleeding eyes. Gabriel lightly touched him on the forehead.
The blood was gone and when Sam looked up and met Dean’s eyes, he could see.
*
“So now we’re down to this, my Host,” Lucifer called over to him. “You told me yes in your dreams. Now you must say it aloud.”
Sam frowned, dragging his eyes from his brothers. “What? I didn’t say y-,” Gabriel’s hand tightened on his shoulder alarmingly and he stopped. “No. I’m saying no.”
Lucifer’s face darkened like a thunder cloud. “You are my Host ” he shouted. “I gave you beauty I gave you wonder I gave you your eyes ”
“You cheated.” It was almost comical, how everyone whirled to see who had spoken. Castiel was beside Dean, Bobby by the dead man in the circle, and Gabriel together with Sam. So when Chuck stepped out behind the door, dressed in a white button down, everyone was a little shocked.
Except for Lucifer. He collapsed to his knees, sliding out of the throne. “Father,” he whispered, and Dean’s amulet burned to life.
Chuck turned to them and gave them all a brief smile. “Sorry guys. I’ll explain later.” White light burned with a high pitch shriek.
Meryn screamed when they all appeared on the porch beside her.
In all the confusion, they never saw Sam slip away inside. He didn’t need to count.
*
“Sasquatch,” Gabriel said warmly. “How’s the eyes?”
Sam didn’t look up from the window. “Was it all because I was blind?” he asked instead of answering.
Gabriel sighed quietly. “No.”
He paused, thinking, before he turned away from the window he was staring out of and pulled Gabriel in, leaning back against the wall so he could kiss Gabriel without stooping down too low. He grinned, quick and dirty. “Good.”
Gabriel kissed him again. “So it wasn’t just ‘cause you were blind then?” he asked back, amber eyes glowing.
Sam snorted. “Might let you blindfold me, y’know for more testing purposes.”
“Let’s go,” Gabriel growled. Dean got to the room in time for the finger snap.
He left the light on for them.
*End
Author: placeofinsanity/Miss ’Drea
Rating: NC-17 eventually
Word Count: +15,000
Fandom/Pairing: Supernatural - Sam/Gabriel, Dean/Castiel, Becky/Chuck
Summary: When Sam gets blinded on a relatively routine hunt, they don’t realize that someone, something, much more terrible is behind it.
Disclaimer: Not mine, Kripke and Gamble own all. Siiiigh.
Warnings: Overuse of bad medical terms that came from watching too much House M.D. Some OCs, and some Angel Lore heavily borrowed from The Dresden Files. Lasciel was just too cool not to use.
Fic Post Here.
There was a warm body in his bed.
Sam tightened his grip on whoever was spooned up beside him and found skin too hot to be human under his fingertips. “Gabriel,” he said warningly, his voice sleep rough and confused. “What are you doing here?”
“You were crying in your sleep. Dean didn’t hear you.” The answer was short and sweet and suddenly Sam’s arms are empty.
“So you decided to crawl into bed with me?” Sam asked skeptically, realizing his eyes hurt, like he’s been looking at light too bright.
Gabriel was quiet for a second. “It got you to stop crying,” he said, a little sadly. “And you’re warm.”
“You’re warmer,” Sam felt compelled to point out. The bed shifted a little and Sam realized that Gabriel had sat at the end of it. “Our realtor is a psychic,” he announced to cover the awkward silence. Gabriel said nothing but Sam could feel him against his leg. “She told me not to push you away.”
“Wh-really?” His shock was audible and Sam couldn’t help but smile even after the dreams.
Sam nodded and reached for his glasses, settling them on his nose. “Uh huh, oddly enough.” He nudged Gabriel’s hip with his knee. “So. You want to stay for breakfast?”
Gabriel’s hesitance was surprisingly wounding, but Sam waited him out, patient for the gears to stop turning in the Archangel’s head. “Yeah,” Gabriel said finally. “Sure.”
Sam slipped out of bed, wavering slightly once he got to his feet. Gabriel was right there though, gripping his elbow and holding him steady. “Thanks,” Sam said shortly.
“How many steps, Sam?” Gabriel asked quietly.
He pulled in a deep breath. “Six, to the dresser.” Gabriel counted with him as he walked, one hand out stretched to touch the top of the hardwood dresser. “Everything is labeled,” he said slowly. “I’m still learning braille so it’s slow going.”
“You’ve already started learning braille?” Gabriel sounded incredulous. “You’ve been blind for what, a month?”
Sam gave him a dry glance, the expression unfettered by his shut eyes. “I’m blind. Not a moron. I have to learn sometime, right? What use am I to Dean if I can’t even read?”
He could hear Gabriel’s smile. “You’re something else, Gigantor.”
Sam tugged his shirt over his head, feeling with rough, over-sensitive fingers for the drawer with the T-Shirt label.
The bed creaked and Sam figured that Gabriel had sat back down, giving him the space he needed to do it on his own. He found the drawer easily enough, pulling it smoothly open and then reaching in for the packaged clothing items within. Warm colors on the left, cool colors on the right, and black in the middle. He felt around until he found the color he wanted, green, and pulled out the one labeled ‘button-down’. He shrugged it on over the white a-tank he wore to bed, feeling for the small buttons.
“Need a hand?” Gabriel offered unobtrusively. “I could button it for you?”
Sam paused. He had gotten the buttons wrong the day before, and Castiel had been the one to fix them for him; he was never going to live down that shame. “Yes please,” he said quietly, turning to face the Archangel in nothing more than the shirt and his boxer-briefs.
Gabriel’s hands, warm and shaking very slightly were suddenly on his chest, and he slowly did up the small buttons, starting from the bottom to make sure that they came up even. “So,” Gabriel murmured. “How are you going to announce me to the room?”
Sam smiled, warm and genuine. “Here’s the new cook. Move over Dean.”
It surprised a laugh from Gabriel and Sam wished he could see it. “I see how it is, Sasquatch,” he said. “Invite me to breakfast and then chain me to the stove.”
“You can create food with a fingersnap,” Sam pointed out. “Much less time consuming than actually making omelets and hash browns.”
“And I never get them wrong,” Gabriel boasted, finishing up the last button. “Done.”
Sam smiled. “Thanks,” he said and turned back to the dresser, haltingly. He felt along the drawers labels, finding ‘jeans’ relatively easily. He’d always left his pants in the bottom most drawer anyway, and a habit of a lifetime was hard to break. Like the shirts, everything was packaged and color coded, darks on the left and lights on the right. He picked a pair of stone-washed light colored jeans; they’d been on top with the name ‘favorite’ in braille on the label instead of a color.
He had a system now. Things were going to be okay.
*
“Here be the cook,” Sam called to the room in general, even though he could feel Castiel’s presence like a weight in the air. “Move over Dean.” The whole room paused, and Sam pushed Gabriel out in front of him.
He could feel Dean’s concession before Dean even spoke. “Yeah, all right,” Dean muttered. “Work your magic, Trickster.”
There was a familiar snap, and then the aroma of breakfast floated through the air. Sam felt someone come up next to him, not Dean and not the newly familiar Gabriel. Castiel. “Thank you,” he whispered in Sam’s ear.
Castiel was barely an Angel, but Sam had given him back a brother. “Hey bro,” Gabriel said, like he knew what they were talking about. “You started eating yet?”
“I find myself quite partial to Dean’s cooking,” Castiel answered. “So, yes.”
Sam was almost crippled by the longing to be able to look over at Dean and share a look, instead he felt Dean’s gun calloused hand brush over the top of his head and he smiled. They’d make it work.
As soon as Gabriel quietly identified everything on the table and where it was, Sam was able to eat, though much more slowly. Of course, it took longer as Dean kept moving his glass of orange juice - and he never moved it to the same place twice. “Dean ”
“What?” his brother answered innocently, too innocently to be truth.
“I can hear you,” Sam gritted out between his teeth.
“You hear nothing ” Dean shot back. “It’s Cas ”
Sam snorted and turned his head towards the power that emanated from Castiel. He swallowed whatever he had been chewing and said, very primly, “I believe this is the part where I deny you sex.”
Gabriel and Sam burst out laughing, as Dean choked on his eggs. “Cas ” He sputtered. “They don’t need to know anything ”
“Yes we do,” chorused Sam and Gabriel and even though Sam couldn’t see him, he knew that Gabriel had grinned at him.
Sam didn’t understand why he could feel the Angels so much clearer than Dean himself, or Meryn when she came by. There was...something, about Chuck but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was. He simply knew when Castiel gave him a brief smile, or when Gabriel would appear in a room. Meryn, it always felt like she was reaching out to touch him, even when she was half way across the room going over things with Dean. Bobby, Becky and anyone else coming to the house he had to guess about.
He was right, most of the time.
“Cas, because Dean sucks at retelling things,” he announced once the laughter had died down some, “you should give us all the details.”
He felt Castiel shift very slightly in his seat, and Sam grinned into his orange juice as Dean grumbled under his breath. “I am not sure what to say,” Castiel said. “He is very skilled at kissing, as well as sexual intercourse itself.”
Sam was sure that Cas might have actually said more, but suddenly he could hear the distinctive sound of kissing. “Get a room ” he called over to his brother and his Angel. There was a telltale finger snap, and then he and Gabriel were alone.
As soon as Sam had eaten his fill, which went by much faster without Dean there to steal his orange juice and move it on him, Gabriel clasped his shoulder. “I want to take you somewhere. May I?”
The question was oddly formal and Sam hesitated before nodding. “Sure,” he said. “Get me back before dinner.”
“Am I to cook that too?” Gabriel asked, but Sam could tell he was teasing.
“Only if you want to,” Sam answered, smiling. Gabriel’s hand tightened on Sam’s shoulder and there was another finger snap before the world shifted away around him, and he suddenly found himself in a different place.
He was seated on a very comfortable bed, and the air smelled like flowers. The covers he sat on were velvety, soft and luxurious. “Gabriel?” he called hesitantly, “I’d try and find you, but I don’t know where the door is.”
Just as suddenly as Sam appeared on the bed, Gabriel was by his side. “I can’t heal your eyesight, Sasquatch,” he said, an odd mix of a smile and sadness. “But I can help you hone the rest of your senses.”
“Is this another Daredevil reference?” Sam asked dryly.
Gabriel laughed. “No. Considering we just ate, we’ll leave the taste test for another day,” he said, still grinning. “So, Gigantor, this is a touch test.”
Sam could feel his smile freeze. “Touch test?”
“Don’t worry, Sasquatch. It’s nothing too inappropriate.” Sam got the feeling that Gabriel winked. “I just want you to identify what I’m touching you with, or if I hand you something, what it is.”
“Okay,” Sam murmured. “Do your worst.”
Something lightly touched his cheek, and traced over the high curve of the bone, down the clean line of his jaw to paint a zigzag design over the vein of his jugular. It skipped over the cloth covering his shoulders to swirl down his bicep, over his forearms to circle his wrist with a feather light touch. “Feather,” Sam answered, goose-bumps shivering over his skin.
“What kind?” Gabriel asked, and Sam rolled his eyes.
“Crow, probably.”
Delighted, Gabriel laughed again, discarding the feather. “Good guess,” he said, and Sam could feel the glow of his pleasure. “Ready for the next?”
“Yes,” he answered, wondering what else the Archangel had in store for him. Something soft but heavy was put into his hands, and he turned it over in his palms, rubbing his calloused fingers over the surface. It was square, soft, lightly furred, and had stitching on its edges. “This is a pillow,” he stated with certainty. “Probably faux fur.”
Gabriel took it from him and lightly hit him over the top of the head. “Fake fur?” he asked, outrage and laughter ringing his words with gold, “me?”
“It’s probably some garish color of red too,” Sam shot back, crossing his arms over his chest.
Looking down at the bright red pillow, Gabriel decided that Sam was far too cocky and remembered far too much of their first meeting. “Shut up,” he said good-naturedly. “This next one is hard ”
Sam snorted. “Hit me,” he challenged Gabriel.
Gabriel took his hands again, laying a length of cloth in them, and closed Sam’s fingers around it. It was as soft as water, and just as cool, flowing through Sam’s hands, trailing expressively over the slope of his wrist, winding around his thumbs. “Silk,” Sam murmured, lifting the fabric up to his face. “Really, really expensive silk.”
He rubbed it against his cheek and Gabriel looked away. “You like silk then, Sammy?” he asked, and Sam nodded. He didn’t correct the nickname. Gabriel snapped his fingers and the outfit that Sam had so struggled to put on correctly was gone, replaced by a silk robe made of the same material he held in his hand.
Sam sighed. “What color is it?” he asked.
“Green,” Gabriel said. “I almost chose pink but decided that it wasn’t your color.”
Snorting out a laugh, Sam shook his head. “Angel Eye for the Straight Guy, huh?”
“Oh honey,” Gabriel said, affected. “Nothing I can do about your heinous wardrobe.”
“You’re insane,” Sam commented. “I just thought you should know.”
Nodding in agreement, Gabriel pulled over his next test item. “I’m certifiable, its why I lasted so many years as Loki.”
Sam thought about it for a second, before frowning. “How did you last so many years as Loki, anyway? I mean, you’re an Angel of the frickin’ Lord.”
Gabriel pressed his lips together and thought for a second. “Everyone knows how to hide, Sammy. I’m just better at it than most. I might not have been exiled like my brother, but I was as good as.” He heaved a heavy sigh. “I would never be the prodigal son.”
Sam was quiet a second. “I understand.”
And he did, which was why Gabriel let the moment drop. “Ready for the next test?” He didn’t let Sam answer, just dropped the squirming ball of fur drop directly into his lap. Sam had to scramble to catch it before it took off again, and the small kitten immediately curled up against his chest, and began purring.
“A cat?” Sam asked, bewildered. “Why do you have a cat?”
“Her name is Hrist. She was a Valkyrie.”
“The cat?”
“No, the name ” Gabriel pushed his shoulder lightly and the cat meowed plaintively when her pillow shifted under her. “Ready for your next test?”
Sam put the cat to one side and she curled up next to his thigh, warm and purring loudly. “As long as we can take the cat home with us.”
“You want to steal my cat? Sammy I’m wounded ”
“Just give me the next test, Trickster,” Sam said laughing, and Gabriel silenced him with a kiss, similar than how Dean did with Castiel only hours before. The laughter died against Gabriel’s warm lips, and Sam sat there, absolutely still, not kissing back but neither pulling away. Gabriel took it as permission, and swiped his tongue across Sam’s, teasing the corner of his closed mouth with his lips, leaving gentle, light kisses against the skin there. With a sigh, Sam opened his mouth, allowing Gabriel access. Sam tasted like fire, the smokey after burned taste of wood, and a hint of orange, the juice from that morning.
Their tongues slid together and Sam pulled way, drawing a whine from Gabriel that was almost unconscious with sincerity. “What is this, Gabe?” he asked softly, so close that Gabriel could see his reflection in Sam’s unseeing eyes.
“Desire, Sam,” Gabriel answered, hushed. “It’s your next feeling test. I am giving you desire.”
“Gabe...” he murmured. “You don’t have to do this.”
Gabriel smiled. “Sure I do, Sammy. But more than that...I want to.” He pulled back, giving Sam space. “I can see that I was too early.” Gabriel smiled briefly. “I’ll try again later.” There was a finger snap before Sam could stop him and he found himself back on the couch at his house, the purring cat still sleeping beside him.
*
Sam was looking at the Earth. It was a massive ball of blue, white and green, large, beautiful and impossible. He turned to look at Lucifer who sat beside him on the lunar rock. “You realize that even if I still had sight, this would be impossible.”
Lucifer laughed and the sound crashed over Sam in a wave of love. “Good thing this is a dream, then.”
Shrugging, Sam gave him the point. He watched as the clouds moved under the atmosphere, as the Earth spun and tilted on its axis. The stars were bright but no sound pierced the bubble that Lucifer had them in. “Everything really is silent in space,” Sam mused out loud. “It’s so...peaceful here.”
Grinning, Lucifer nodded. “I like it here. It’s why I chose this place first.”
They sat together in silence, both watching the Earth. “What’s your real name?” Sam asked, as the minutes stretched on. “All the other Angels we met had their names ending in -iel or -ael.”
Lucifer’s smile faded slowly and he looked down at the pock marked soil of the moon. “Luciel,” he said quietly. “Changing my Name was another sword jab against my Father.”
Sam frowned. “Then...Zachariah?”
“Zachariel, and he too, uses the Changing of his Name as his own small rebellion.” Lucifer - Luciel - looked away, gazing out over the craters of the moon. “Names have power, Sam. Even I don’t know your True Name.”
“Uriel, he called it Samael,” Sam offered, but it had been so long that the name no longer made him shudder.
“Ah, yes. Samael, my favored few, the Destroyer.” Lucifer laughed and it sounded like nails grating down a chalkboard. “No, that’s not you, my Host.”
Sam followed his gaze, staring hard at the unmoving American flag. “Others fell? You took some with you?”
“Does not every general have lieutenants and commanders? I wielded an army, my Host. A powerful army of light and righteous anger.” His white lips turned up in a sardonic smirk. “No wars were ever won through anger alone. I was rash, foolish. I will not make that mistake again, my Host.” Lucifer’s smile turned inward for a minute. “Samael, Lasciel, Anduriel...my favored three. It makes sense that Uriel would call you thus, my Host.”
“Lasciel? Anduriel?” Sam told himself he was gathering information. He told himself he wasn’t interested.
“Lasciel, the Temptress. Anduriel, the Scourge.” Lucifer smiled. “They are still in Hell.” His smile hardened. “Where they belong.” Sam said nothing more and they watched silently for long hours that flew by like seconds. “The Dawn comes, my Host.”
Sunlight burst over the edge of the Earth, and Sam shielded his eyes from the suddenly bright light -
-And found himself awake, laying in bed, darkness pressing at his opened eyes.
*
“Keep chanting,” she demanded of the men around her. Thirteen men, bulky with muscle and shirtless, knelt around a large circle painted into the cement floor. They were glistening with sweat and oil, their mouths moving in tandem, their voices a low drone of languages.
Sumerian, for strength. Latin, for knowledge. Phoenician, for chance. Greek, for courage. And Enochian, for luck.
She sat in the ornate chair just behind her chanting minions, smiling as the body in the center of her circle twitched and moaned. It was also a man, and he was tall, as tall as the circle was wide, spread eagled and tied to hooks in the floor, keeping him from flailing and breaking the brick dust that closed the spell off. His hair was long, just a touch too long to be fashionable and he had hazel eyes. Rather he did, had they not been cut out and placed in a jar just outside his reach.
“My lady?” A woman asked from her left and she turned to gaze down at Anduriel. “Yes, my sister?”
“Luciel is on the move,” the Scourge reported breathlessly. “He has packed up his Host of demons and fled to Detroit, and has, at least for the moment, stopped there.”
“And the Winchester brothers?” she asked, white eyes shining with delight.
Anduriel glanced down at the notebook she held. “They have bought a house, my Lady. In Black Hills, South Dakota. But their house is protected, built and created by a psychic and a Priest.”
She waved a hand. “Houses can burn down. I’m not worried. What does our dear General have planned?”
“He doesn’t seem to have...anything...planned,” Anduriel responded. “He has given Samuel Winchester six months to give in, before he begins breaking rules. My lady?” She looked down at Anduriel. “Did he really forget about us in Hell?”
“Of course he did,” Samael spat from her other side as he walked into the room. “He got what he wanted, he’s free, out of the Cage that trapped us too. Now he wants his Host, and his World and we three who followed him out of Heaven were left behind.”
Anduriel looked away, back up at her. “My lady?” she implored.
“Stop sniveling, Anduriel,” Lasciel said, tiredly. “Luciel left us behind. This magick...it is not for his benefit but ours.” She looked at her two lieutenants, and offered them a smile. Lasciel, Lilith, the Temptress, all. “Don’t worry your pretty heads, my sweets. Samuel Winchester will give in, sooner or later. Then, we will make our move.”
The chanting droned on, and the hazel eyes that floated in blood and ichor were beginning to disintegrate. “Not long now,” Samael murmured.
“No,” Lasciel replied. “Not at all.”
*
Sam couldn’t keep track of everyone in the room. Chuck, he could feel Chuck was by the drinks, one hand on a beer, the other probably around Becky, if the chatter was anything to go by. Meryn was right next to her, and Sam tuned them out. Cas and Dean were on the couch, he could hear them talking in low tones, and Bobby was clomping in from the kitchen.
Gabriel had yet to show up. He’d been invited, he would have heard it had he been listening to Angel Radio, as Cas had told him that the easiest way to get his attention was to ask for him, like in prayer. But Gabriel hadn’t come to their ‘house warming’ party.
Hrist, the cat that Gabriel had given them, was meowing for handouts at Bobby’s feetk, twining her way around his ankles and tripping him up. Then, from somewhere in the house, Sam could hear Gabriel appear. He heard the familiar clatter of his feet and Gabriel bounced through the door from the hall. “Honey, I’m home,” he called and there were a number of catcalls and laughter.
Sam could feel Meryn immediately latch on to Gabriel, could feel them both like a psychic hum just under his skin. “Why, Ms. Jackson I’m surprised to see you here,” he could hear Gabriel say, if he listened intently enough. “When Gigantor told me his realtor was a psychic, he didn’t tell me it was you.”
Sam tried not to sulk that Gabriel wasn’t paying him any attention, because just as suddenly as Gabriel had spoken, he could hear Meryn whispering in his ear. And Gabriel was on his lap, straddling, hands on either side of his head. “Gabe,” Sam said dryly. “There’s a perfectly good chair right next to this one. That I’m in.”
“My way,” Gabriel said to him, very seriously, “is much more fun.”
Sam could feel the regard of every single person in the room and he stood abruptly, dislodging Gabriel. “I’m going to bed,” he said tiredly. “I...I’m tired.” He made his escape, made slow by counting steps under his breath until he reached the sanctuary of his silent room, and the dreams Luciel would give him.
*
“I wasn’t expecting you again, my Host. At least,” Luciel added, “not so early.” Sam shook his head and looked away, over the horizon where the ocean beat a staccato beat against the sandy shore. The sun was setting, painting the sky with orange and gold. “Are you all right, my Host?”
“I wish you wouldn’t call me that,” Sam murmured, weary. “I’m not your Host. I won’t be your Host.” He smirked derisively. “And you don’t want me anyway, at least, not like this.” He gestured to his eyes.
Luciel - Lucifer - Light Bringer - Light of God - the only comfort in the world of darkness, it didn’t matter anymore. Sam turned to look at him and found that the body Lucifer had taken was so far deteriorated that his true Form was shining through. “Your six months are almost up, Sam,” he said, his voice hard. “Then we do this the hard way.”
“Nothing could be harder than this,” Sam whispered.
“Blindness?” Lucifer asked, full of scorn. “The true son of my Father could heal blindness, we were all given the power to do so. But me, my brothers, the eldest your Gabriel, we were all unable to restore your sight. Something, something is wrong, don’t you see, my Host?”
Sam snorted. “Of course I see, Luciel. But only in here.”
“I will find who is keeping your eyes from you, my Host,” Lucifer whispered, then he was gone, and only the ocean remained. Sam lay there, drifting in and out of his own dreams, letting the tide wash up and chase his bare ankles. He’d always loved the ocean, since Dean had taken him to Myrtle Beach when he was very young. Their father had been gone and it was just them, the sun and the water.
“I thought I might find you in here somewhere,” Gabriel said, dropping down next to him. “I can see why you got tired of your party when you have a view like this to fall asleep with.” He turned his head towards Sam’s and eyed him with some degree of displeasure. “Can I tell you something?” he asked, and Sam opened his mouth to tell him no but Gabriel talked right over him. “You’re being an epic douchebag.” He smiled pleasantly. “Just thought you ought to know.”
“I’m tired, Gabriel.” Sam tilted his head back to stare up at the sky, watching as the stars came out one, by one. Gabriel’s face filled his vision and Sam scowled. “What are you doing here anyway?”
“I’m here to...” Gabriel touched his tongue to his upper lip and smiled. “I’m here to fulfill your random sex dream quota for the month.” With that, Gabriel kissed him, right there on the beach. “It’ll be so much better because you can see, but don’t worry, I’ll do this when you wake up too.”
The air around them shimmered with a finger snap and Sam found himself completely naked to Gabriel’s regard. “You What Gabe ” He flailed uselessly for a minute or two before Gabriel held his hands down, stretched up over his head.
“Just shut up and enjoy, Gigantor,” Gabriel murmured against the skin of his face.
He kissed down the center of Sam’s chest, letting his wrists go in favor of rubbing smooth palms over Sam’s nipples. Sam jerked and buried his fingers in the hot sand, levering up on his elbows to look down at the top of Gabriel’s head. It was just a dream anyway, and fighting in a dream was useless - like fighting yourself.
And Sam really wanted the blow job. It was still a surprise when Gabriel’s head dipped down and he pressed an open mouthed kiss to the head of Sam’s newly interested cock. Sam shouted, jerking up against Gabriel and Gabriel chuckled against Sam’s heated skin. “You sure about this, Sasquatch?”
“While I’m asleep maybe,” Sam grunted, twitching. “You wouldn’t be the first guy I’ve slept with.”
Gabriel grinned brilliantly and Sam realized with a remote pang that he would miss that grin when he woke up. “I’ll convince you in the morning,” Gabriel decided and swallowed Sam’s half hard cock in one motion.
Sam shouted, hips jerking, hardening so fast he could feel the blood loss in his head. His arms almost gave out when the pleasure spread, but Sam was determined to watch. He wouldn’t have another chance. Gabriel sucked hard, hollowing his cheeks and twining his tongue around Sam’s thick cock, cupping his balls in one hand.
He tasted like salt and maybe that was the ocean, swirling up around their legs as high tide came in. Sam’s hips were flexing each time Gabriel swallowed, and he ground his own aching erection into the sand for some sort of relief. He groaned as the sand formed a neat divot to fuck into and Sam cried out as the vibrations sang along his neglected nerve endings.
“Fuck, Gabriel, please,” he panted out, elbows slipping in the sand, eyes burning hot on the crown of Gabriel’s head.
Gabriel pulled off, snapping away his clothes to drape himself over Sam, rubbing their slick erections together. “How’s this for a touch test, Sam?” he grunted, grinding down hard and sliding his cock into the groove where Sam’s torso met his leg.
“Might need another test run,” Sam growled, pulling Gabriel in for another kiss. Gabriel kissed him deeply, letting Sam taste himself on his tongue, fucking his mouth and fucking his hips, until Sam grunted, eyes rolling and came in hot spurts between them.
It was just enough for Gabriel to reach his own orgasm, twitching and shuddering against the side of Sam’s neck. He’d bitten down, when he had come, and there was an angry purple bruise there. He avoided touching it, for now, in case he healed it on accident.
“Another test run?” he asked of Sam, grinning the grin of the sexually sated.
“I-,” Sam blinked and opened his eyes to darkness. “What?”
He was alone.
*
Dean was staring at him. He could feel it, a slight itch between his shoulder blades. “Okay,” Sam said finally. “What?”
“Do you have a...” Dean trailed off, clearing his throat. He rallied and tried again. “Cas and I...it doesn’t bother you, right?”
Sam contemplated telling Dean about his dream about Gabriel, but shook his head instead. “No dude, of course not.” Dean’s silence was skeptical and Sam finally put down the Braille learning book. “Why would it bother me?” he asked Dean, turning his head in the direction he knew Dean to be.
“Um, dude, I don’t know if you noticed but Cas is a guy.” Sam snorted and even though he couldn’t actually see Dean’s face, he knew that his brother was glaring. “I’m serious ” Dean said.
Sighing, Sam stood and counted the steps to the couch, dropping down beside Dean and knocking their shoulders together. “I’m well aware that Cas is a guy, thank you very much Mr. Obvious. Why would that bother me?”
He felt Dean shrug, rubbing their shoulders together. “I never brought men home. I thought it would...weird you out.”
Sam couldn’t help but laugh. “Dude, Dean...really? I went to college.”
“And that means...what exactly?” Dean asked, bemused.
“It means I did a lot of experimenting before Jess.” Dean snorted out a laugh and threw his arm around Sam in a half hug. “So no, Cas being male does not bother me in the slightest.”
Dean grinned and ruffled Sam’s hair. “I just wanted to check.” There was a brief click and the TV came on, quietly, so Sam settled in against his brother’s side to listen to the news, or the documentary on horror that Dean would eventually pick. With Dean murmuring graphic descriptions in his ear, he felt like he could almost see again.
Even if a woman didn’t really give birth to a centaur in Minnesota.
*
“My Host, we don’t have much time.”
Sam opened his eyes and turned to look at Lucifer. His body was falling apart, and through the rends and folds of tattered flesh, his true form flickered an angry red. “Luciel?” he asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes. A quick glanced showed him the heavens, spinning stars and galaxies. “Luciel what’s wrong?”
“Do you remember when I spoke of my Favored Three, Anduriel, Lasciel and Samael?” Sam nodded once. “I believed they were in Hell. I was wrong.”
Sam went cold all over, and he took a quick step towards Lucifer. “I don’t understand.”
“There is much dark magic in the area around Butte, Montana. I had some of my demons follow through on an investigation. Things weren’t as they seemed. I found Anduriel there, and where Anduriel is, Samael and Lasciel aren’t far behind.”
“What does this have to do with me?” Sam asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
Lucifer sighed heavily. “It is a specific spell. It’s a mix of voodoo and voodoun practices, where the practitioners use a human doll, someone with many of the same characteristics as their target. They then keep their doll alive, and create a psychic link so whatever they do to the doll is repeated on their intended target.” Hope blossomed in Sam’s chest so hard it hurt and nearly brought him to his knees. “Eventually, the damage becomes permanent and they kill the doll, severing the psychic link and leaving their target injured or perhaps even dead.”
“How am I supposed to tell Dean that?” Sam asked.
“Easily, my Host.” The Devil grinned and jabbed Sam in the forehead with two fingers. “You had a vision.”
The spinning heavens dissolved around him like grains of sand inside an hourglass, and pain exploded over his temples, pouring into his mind like fire. He could see them, three figures on a dais, one on a throne, two standing guard beside her. A white-hot circle, and a man without eyes, screaming in the center.
Sam jerked up, throwing off the covers and nearly falling out of bed. He swallowed, shaking, and his throat felt raw and over-used. He must have been screaming because there was pounding down the stairs as two people came flying into his room. Dean, he could tell, and Castiel. “Sammy?” Dean asked urgently. “You were screaming, what’s wrong?”
His useless eyes were leaking tears and he blinked them away, relishing the sting. “I had...I think it was a vision, Dean.”
“Fuck,” Dean swore, and pushed away from the bed. “About what?”
“I don’t...I think it was me. I think I know why I’m blind.” Everyone froze and Sam shifted when the tension rose to unbearable heights in the room. “There were three people, two women, one man, they were overseeing a circle, and it burned. There was a man in the middle, he looked like me. His eyes were in a jar.”
“Where?” Dean demanded.
Sam shrugged. “I didn’t get a bead on it, it...hurt.”
He felt Dean’s hands tilt his head up and press a cloth to his nose. He hadn’t even realized his nose was bleeding. “I will call Meryn Jackson. She may be able to use her psychic powers to pinpoint where this dark magic is coming from,” Castiel said from the doorway.
“Pray,” Dean said. “We might need Gabriel in for this.”
So Sam closed his eyes and opened his mind, ignoring the hollow sound of laughter from Lucifer that echoed between his perfect ears.
*
Meryn unrolled a large map of the United States, tossing a purple bic lighter at Castiel. “Light those white candles for me? All five of them.” Sam sat in the chair across for her, feeling power raise with each white candle lit.
“I’m not a conventional psychic,” Meryn explained. “I come from many different schools of thought and even more religious backgrounds. It’s how I knew Loki, er, Gabriel. A friend of mine delved in too deep and summoned Loki. I knew he wasn’t a Trickster God the minute he appeared.” She placed something on the map. “I use my fire quartz as a diviner. It’s quartz crystal that grew out of rusted metal; I broke it off a railroad trestle when I was thirteen.”
Dean grunted. “How does it work?”
“It’s the same as any power, Mr. Winchester,” she said in her best school teacher voice. “If we can pinpoint a city, if you find me a map of the city, I can pinpoint a street.”
Sam really wished he could see what she was doing, because he could feel her power pressing in against him on all sides as she took his head, and exhaled once, loud enough to be noticeable.
Dean made a sound, and Castiel hushed him, as Meryn pulled the vision out of skin, through the palm of his hand, into her own fingertips. A second passed, then two, and she gasped. “Whoa. That was...fast. You must have some serious juice, Sam.”
Sam looked down. “I used to.”
Her hand squeezed his once before withdrawing. “Power itself is never evil. Only how it’s used.” She raised her voice a little and looked up, speaking in Dean’s direction. “Butte, Montana.”
“That’s not far,” Dean said. “That’s only a few hours away.”
“If by a few, you mean close to ten,” Meryn said, laughing. She blew out one of the candles and the tension decreased rapidly. “I bet whatever spell they’re casting needs to be close by. Got a map of Butte?”
“No,” Dean said. “But I can find one.”
“Good. Let me know when you do.” She slumped back in her chair. “So Sam,” she asked once Dean and Castiel had left on their errands, “want to explain away your power?”
Sam cleared his throat. “I was one of Azazel’s Children.” She jerked hard enough to upset the table and Sam could feel the blush burn his throat and cheeks. “You know him?”
“Yes. I know of them. But Azazel’s been dead for years...” She trailed off. “You two?”
“I raised Lucifer with my power. I gave it up after. Nothing is worth that.” He crossed his arms over his chest, turning away from him. “How about you?”
Meryn sighed. “I was trained by a Lakota Indian. He told me I was a forest spirit who had forgotten the way home. He and his Shaman broke a spell over me, and suddenly, bam I used to be a Touch Clairvoyant, but it’s not as bad now that I’ve gotten older. I’m still waiting for my Hogwarts Letter.”
Sam grinned, he couldn’t help it. “And what made you get into Real Estate?’
“I’m not really a real estate agent,” she answered, laughing. “But I built this house. All the baseboards and plywood are scribed with Nordic Runes for protection of the home. The Iron layer-work is blessed and was cooled with Holy Water. The cement basement was mixed with salt. The paint was mixed with sea salt, and each of the doorways has more Runes. This place is a psychic hotspot on any map.” She was smiling as she stood up. “I can’t wait for you to see it.”
Gabriel chose then to appear, and Meryn didn’t jump. “He’s all yours, loverboy,” she told the Angel, and then her presence receded to the porch.
“You had a vision?” Gabriel asked without preamble. “About what, when and how?”
“About my blindness. It’s a spell.” He stood up, trying to find Gabriel. “I don’t know where you’re standing so-mph ” He wasn’t expecting the kiss, stood there dumbly for half a second before hauling Gabriel closer, hooking his fingers into the belt loops of the jeans he perpetually wore.
When Gabriel let him go, he pulled Sam’s head down to rest their foreheads together. “It wasn’t just a dream, you know,” Gabriel murmured, and Sam knew he wasn’t talking about the vision. “As soon as this is all over, we’re doing this for real.”
“Okay.” Sam just held Gabriel loosely in the circle of his arms, waiting for Dean to come back with a map, and Castiel to bring back Bobby.
The time for sitting still was over. This was war.
*
“How much longer until the spell is complete?” Anduriel asked, leaning her head against Lasciel’s knee.
“A day, perhaps two,” Lasciel answered absently, stroking her hand over Samael’s hair. “This kind of magic isn’t precise in its timing. The eyes will melt when the eyes will melt. Hopefully,” she added when Anduriel looked up, “it will be sooner rather than later.”
Samael looked up and Lasciel flicked him in the forehead with one finger. “Things are drawing to a close, aren’t they, my Lady.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes, my dearest love,” she cooed, “things will be over with quite soon.”
“How can you tell?” It was petulant and Lasciel frowned down at Anduriel.
“Because,” Lasciel/Lilith answered. “Master’s on the move.”
*
Meryn had a street and a number almost as soon as she’d opened the map. She wore her fire quartz on a necklace, and when she’d taken it off and placed it by her left hand, it just rolled until it rested over a street. She blinked, then laughed.
“What?” Dean barked, running on low and stressed. “What’s funny?”
She grinned wider, shaking her head. “They’re making it easy on me. Which is probably a bad thing, still, the weather patterns aren’t bad, or demonic in nature, so they probably think they’re home free. Spell’s drawing to a close though.” She moved her pendulum and it had left a black mark over a part of the street.
“How far away is that?” asked Dean, and it was Bobby who answered.
“About eleven hours. If we take shifts, we can get there by tomorrow morning.”
Meryn rolled up the map, the sound startling everybody. “I’m sitting this out, guys,” she said quietly. “I’m useless in a fight and I can’t read minds or anything. I’ll hold the fort down here.”
They packed up the car in record time, Castiel and Bobby in the back seat, Sam in the front and Dean driving. Gabriel leaned and told Sam he’d meet them there, before snapping his fingers and fizzing out. Meryn stole all their cell phones and programed her number into it, making them promise to call her.
She gave Sam a hug, and saw them off, settling into the rocking chair on the porch, huddled under a blanket and prayed quietly to whoever might have been listening.
*
Sam drifted off in the car, the familiar purr of the engine under him, the sound of Metallica just under noise level. Bobby was snoring in the back, Castiel staring off into space, and Dean was humming under his breath, like he didn’t want to wake anyone. It was all so blessedly normal that not sleeping simply wasn’t an option.
He fell straight into a dream. Lucifer stood there, in a new body, this one strong, even though his eyes looked like bruises in the man’s handsome face. “My Host,” he said warmly and his voice was the same. “You’re moving, aren’t you?”
Sam nodded. “We found where they are. We’re going to them now.”
“I’m going to meet you there, my Host.” Lucifer promised. “I will smite they who dared harm you.”
“You still can’t have my body, Luciel,” he responded, looking away, over the tree line to the blue sky above. “It’s still mine. I’m still in it.”
Lucifer invaded his personal space, wrapping an arm about Sam’s waist. “Then I will use it once you’ve died, my Host. I don’t have long to wait.”
Sam woke up, feeling unsettled. The feeling increased as he realized that Castiel was staring at him. “You okay, Sammy?” Dean asked cautiously.
“Yeah,” Sam said, wincing when his voice cracked. “Just a weird dream.”
“You dream of Lucifer,” Castiel said, his voice a little awed. “He gave to you his true name.”
Sam closed his eyes and nodded once. “Luciel. Light of God.”
“Have you given him anything, Sam?” Castiel asked, the awe fading into desperation. “Tell me you haven’t.”
“I haven’t,” Sam protested. “I have given him nothing.”
Castiel let the matter drop, and Dean said nothing, only knocking his fist gently into Sam’s shoulder. It was enough to reassure him, before cold dread pooled in his stomach. He had agreed to let Lucifer show him things, he had said yes.
He hoped it didn’t count.
*
Lasciel looked up sharply and swore, almost disrupting the chanting with her vitriol. She knocked Anduriel and Samael aside and stood. “Master’s here,” she hissed. “He doesn’t know I...” She choked, her face turning red, and she flailed a little, trying to get her feet under her.
“Well, well, well, what have we here?” Lucifer mused as he stepped through the door. “The Favored Three. Anduriel, you’re looking well. I do enjoy this new form you have. And Samael, I’m glad you managed to escape Azazel’s clutches, the tyrant. And Lasciel. I heard you were supposed to be dead, but allowing one of your get to masquerade as Lilith? Tsk...” He let her fall. “I’m thoroughly disappointed in all three of you.
“Especially because you are attempting to kill, or at least seriously maim my Host ” His voice rose to a roar but the chanting wore on. “Now, my dearest Lasciel, what in Heaven’s Name were you thinking?”
She flinched, turning her face away. “I wasn’t about to give myself up for dead, Master. You allowed me to seduce Adam away from Eve, in their beautiful garden of death, but Luciel, you betrayed me first.”
“You are the Temptress, my dear,” Lucifer answered. “And now also, the Liar.” He tossed her aside and moved to break the circle. Nothing happened. He pushed his hand through the brick dust but it never moved under his fingers. “What?” he snapped. He whirled on the cowering Anduriel. “Report ”
“It’s magic, Master,” she whispered. “And we warded against you.”
Lucifer smiled, and the sight was terrible. “Then we will wait. Samuel will be here soon.” He settled back in Lasciel/Lilith’s chair. “And then we will see how this ends for you.”
Lasciel sat between Anduriel and Samael, glaring impotently from her place frozen to the floor. Sam would be there in less than four hours.
And then it would be time to use his Yes for good.
*
“Okay, look,” Sam said to the mostly silent car. “We have to figure out what we’re going to do with me. We’re...ha, going in blind and that means I don’t know the layout of anything. I’ll be a sitting duck.”
“So you’ll wait in the car until we break the spell,” Dean said, matter-of-fact, like he hadn’t just told Sam to do the most painful thing in the world.
Sam scowled. “I am not,” he said pointedly, “waiting in the car.”
“Perhaps,” Castiel said shortly, breaking in and diffusing the upcoming fight, “Gabriel would be your eyes.”
Sam twisted in the seat to give Castiel a look over his tinted glasses. “What?” he asked sharply, “how?”
“If he makes a Link with you, the way I did with Dean before I...” Castiel trailed off. “The way I did before I lost my Wings...he will be able to allow you to use his eyes for a short period of time.”
Sam immediately shook his head. “No. Absolutely not.”
Dean glanced at him, he could tell. “Why not?”
“Because that puts Gabriel in danger. And because he won’t want a psychic link with me anyway. I’ll figure it out.” Sam closed his eyes resolutely and ignored any of Dean’s attempts to renew the conversation.
Bobby slept on, and Sam refused to join him.
*
It was a giant warehouse, and Sam dialed Meryn. “We’re here,” he told her when she answered with a sleepy hello.
“They’re on the first floor, deep in. Be quiet, Sam. And be careful. I’ll await your call.” She disconnected without saying anything else.
“First floor,” Sam reiterated. “Deep in.” He thought hard and Gabriel snapped in, making Sam’s ears pop. “Hi Gabe.”
Dean glared. “How the hell do you do that?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “He makes my ears pop.”
Gabriel snorted and pulled Sam in close. He let him do it, walking willingly into the circle of his arms. It was Gabriel who threaded their fingers together, and Dean snorted. “Not wanting a psychic link huh?” he teased and it was so normal that Sam wondered if it would all change if they got his eyes back.
“Let’s go, Boy Wonder,” Bobby grunted, and together the five of them moved in. Sam counted the steps as well as he was able, from the door they entered through to the very door of the Impala.
Just in case.
It wasn’t hard to find the Favored Three. The chanting was loud and didn’t echo. Dean lead them. Bobby brought up the rear. Gabriel took him by the hand again, counting under his own breath in time with Sam.
“Shit,” Dean said, and the chanting suddenly stopped. Pain exploded through Sam’s head and he fell, screaming to his knees. He couldn’t think past the blinding agony that pulsed with his heartbeat, under his cheeks and through his eyes.
Then, like only a month before, everything went coldly, painlessly, dark.
*
Dean glared at the man in the chair. “Who the fuck are you?”
The man laughed. “That’s right. You wouldn’t recognize me. I’m Luciel, Lucifer, Satan, the Devil; pick one.” He smiled, and his teeth were bloody. “I sent Samuel the vision that will save his life.”
“You?” Castiel and Dean chorused.
“Of course me He is my treasured Host. So, please, if one of your mortals would cross that line and break it, please. When Sam wakes up, and he will, he will have his sight again. The ritual didn’t complete.” Lucifer gestured to the three demons behind him. “These were my most favored servants. Anduriel, the Scourge of my destroyed Court. Samael, the Destroyer. And lastly, my dearest love, Lasciel; the Temptress.” Lucifer smiled slyly. “You would better know her as Lilith.”
Dean blinked. “Sam killed her to raise you out of the Cage.”
Lucifer smiled. “Lasciel, please, go ahead. Speak.” He clenched a fist and she choked.
“I used a decoy. Sam hurt me, very badly when he killed Ruby. And the dental hygienist, it was her tainted blood that raised my Lord. But I am not dead. It is impossible to kill me.” She was smiling in triumph, until her body twitched, broke, and small flickers of light burned under her skin.
“Not impossible,” murmured Lucifer. “Are either of you going to be next?” he inquired of Anduriel and Samael.
“No,” Anduriel said. “I never agreed with her stupid plan. Please, by all means, break the circle.”
Bobby glanced at Dean before nudging a hole through the brick dust. Nothing obvious seemed to happen but the man in the middle slumped in his bonds. He didn’t move again.
But Sam did. He covered his eyes, shaking his head, curling up onto his knees. “Sam ” barked Dean. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Sam said. “I’m okay.” Gabriel knelt at his side, pulling his hands away from his bleeding eyes. Gabriel lightly touched him on the forehead.
The blood was gone and when Sam looked up and met Dean’s eyes, he could see.
*
“So now we’re down to this, my Host,” Lucifer called over to him. “You told me yes in your dreams. Now you must say it aloud.”
Sam frowned, dragging his eyes from his brothers. “What? I didn’t say y-,” Gabriel’s hand tightened on his shoulder alarmingly and he stopped. “No. I’m saying no.”
Lucifer’s face darkened like a thunder cloud. “You are my Host ” he shouted. “I gave you beauty I gave you wonder I gave you your eyes ”
“You cheated.” It was almost comical, how everyone whirled to see who had spoken. Castiel was beside Dean, Bobby by the dead man in the circle, and Gabriel together with Sam. So when Chuck stepped out behind the door, dressed in a white button down, everyone was a little shocked.
Except for Lucifer. He collapsed to his knees, sliding out of the throne. “Father,” he whispered, and Dean’s amulet burned to life.
Chuck turned to them and gave them all a brief smile. “Sorry guys. I’ll explain later.” White light burned with a high pitch shriek.
Meryn screamed when they all appeared on the porch beside her.
In all the confusion, they never saw Sam slip away inside. He didn’t need to count.
*
“Sasquatch,” Gabriel said warmly. “How’s the eyes?”
Sam didn’t look up from the window. “Was it all because I was blind?” he asked instead of answering.
Gabriel sighed quietly. “No.”
He paused, thinking, before he turned away from the window he was staring out of and pulled Gabriel in, leaning back against the wall so he could kiss Gabriel without stooping down too low. He grinned, quick and dirty. “Good.”
Gabriel kissed him again. “So it wasn’t just ‘cause you were blind then?” he asked back, amber eyes glowing.
Sam snorted. “Might let you blindfold me, y’know for more testing purposes.”
“Let’s go,” Gabriel growled. Dean got to the room in time for the finger snap.
He left the light on for them.
*End