So We Might Live Anew Part 3
They arrive in that weird room again, where the angels apparently like to hide out. Gabriel isn’t there. A long couch and some chairs appear in the room, and Anna glares at them, gesturing to sit down while she prepares what appears to be the ingredients for a summoning. Sam and Dean sit in awkward silence on opposite ends of the room while Jo flops unceremoniously on the couch.
Anna throws the last of the ingredients in the bowl and mutters “You better get your asses over here, right now, boys.”
Gabriel and Castiel appear almost simultaneously in the room, looking concerned and slightly confused, respectively.
“Those two,” she gestures at Sam and Dean, “are idiots. And you two are even bigger idiots for letting them wander around without protection and get drawn in by some glamours.”
Castiel still looks confused, he obviously doesn’t have much experience with faeries, but Gabriel manages to look both contrite and pissed. It’s a weird expression.
“What did I tell you about being careful?” Gabriel says, stalking over to Sam and looming over him in his chair. “I can’t let them just take you! I thought you had more sense than that. I just-” he deflates, seeing Sam’s deer-in-the-headlights expression. “Nothing happened?”
Sam shakes his head mutely, momentarily struck dumb by the anger coming from the angel.
“I got them out of there before they could do anything completely stupid,” Anna says. “They’re just lucky we could afford to leave when we did.” She sits down on the couch next to Jo who sits up long enough for her to sit down and then flops herself back down in the same place, on top of Anna.
“We’re done with the whole spy thing, by the way,” Jo says from her place on Anna. “We finally figured out what they’re after. You’re welcome.”
“What is it?” Gabriel asks, not taking his eyes off of Sam as though trying to keep him there by force of will alone.
“A tithe,” Anna says, wearily, absently stroking Jo’s hair. “They’re not any more happy about this whole apocalypse thing than we are, and they think they have a plan to stop it.
“So do some of the other gods,” Gabriel says, “I’ve been listening in on ‘em since they stopped inviting me to their parties.”
“Yeah, but the faeries plan might actually work. They’re going to use one of us to lure in Michael or Lucifer, they’re not picky, and then use us as a tithe to open up the Otherworld and let whatever’s in there out long enough to drag whoever shows up, in.”
“So, it’s like locking Luci back up in Hell, only somewhere else?” Gabriel looks thoughtful. “That could work; the Otherworld’s even more impenetrable than Hell, anyway. Only, neither of us want to be tithes.”
“Uh, what’s a tithe?” Sam asks, interrupting them, “I’m guessing it has nothing to do with the church tithe.”
“A tithe, Samsquatch, in this instance is a sacrifice the faeries have to make every few years. Usually just for continued protection, but apparently they’re making different plans this time. It’s gotta be willing, or someone who owes them a debt, for maximum effectiveness.”
The conversation goes on for a while in that direction, and Sam lets his mind wander. This tithe plan seems as likely a plan as any they’ve had recently, more so, really. The body count’s racking up, and the longer they draw this out the more loved ones they’re going to lose. This whole thing’s his fault anyway; he couldn’t let things go (and now he realizes that’s what Gabriel was trying to teach him back before Dean went to Hell) and he broke the last seal. The least he can do is fix it, right? If it weren’t for him, neither Gabriel nor Anna would be on the run from all sides like this. Jo wouldn’t be hunted. None of this would be happening. If a tithe needs to be willing, well, he will be, he decides.
Sam settles back into his chair, his relief at having an honest-to-god workable plan lightening his mood considerably. He smiles at Gabriel, who’s sprawled in a chair beside him, legs over the armrest. Gabriel smiles back and kicks lightly at Sam. Yes, Sam thinks, this plan is best for everyone. No one else should have to die for his stupid mistakes. Especially not Gabriel.
It’s easier than Sam thought it would be to sneak away from Dean and the angels. He tells them he’s going across the street for some food and though Gabriel rolls his eyes and offers to snap up whatever they want right there, he lets Sam go.
Sam’s been preparing for this, and hustles as far away as he can so as not to draw suspicion while he attempts to summon a faerie. The ritual goes smoothly, and within minutes Sam’s surrounded by a small horde of short, squat, vaguely boulder-like creatures.
One steps forward. “Why would you summon us?” it asks, glancing around as if expecting some kind of trap.
“I’d like to speak to the queen,” Sam says, sure of this, at least. He’s been doing some research since that horrible faerie party, and he thinks he knows what’s what.
“Not a trap?” one of the other creatures asks.
“No, no trap, just y’know, take me to your leader,” Sam says, holding back a desperate laugh as the reality of the situation begins to intrude.
“Very well.”
A crack, and Sam’s suddenly in a dark, slightly damp, hall. The only light comes from a few lamps set up at one end, illuminating a throne and small table covered in food. On the throne sits one of the most beautiful women he’s ever seen, her dark hair done up over her head, on top of which sits a crown. Her eyes are dark and he can see them glitter from where he stands at the other end of the hall. She wears a slinky dress that shows off her body in ways that are almost obscene.
“Yes?” she says. She has a dark voice, one that suggests all manner of dangerous things in a single word.
“I have an offer to make.”
“Oh? Going to fetch me that pesky archangel of yours, are you? He’s been very entertaining, but I tire of his games.” She beckons Sam closer and he comes, unable to do anything but. He’s no longer susceptible to glamour, but the queen has other powers of persuasion open to her.
“No, I’m not giving you Gabriel,” Sam says, stopping in front of her, and he’s shocked at the angry, possessive tone in his voice that he can’t quite hold back. “He’s mine.” What the hell? Since when did he think of Gabriel as his? The archangel quite clearly belonged to nobody but himself.
“Then I’m afraid I don’t want anything else from you. Guards!” The guards snap to Sam’s side before he can blink. “Use him to get the angel. Do whatever you need to, have some fun with him, first.” She turns to the spread laid out before her and proceeds to ignore Sam.
“Wait!” Sam struggles against the guards, “you didn’t hear my offer!” The queen continues to ignore him.
“Take me as your tithe,” he says, still struggling.
The queen glances briefly at him before returning her attention to the food in front of her. It’s raw and bloody and glistens in the lamplight of the hall; Sam doesn’t look too closely, afraid of what it might turn out to be.
“I’m serious! You want Lucifer, Lucifer wants me; I can bring him to you.”
She turns, then, considering. “Hmm,” she purrs, “a willing sacrifice is very...appealing.” She smiles and her teeth glitter sharply.
There’s a crack, and Sam is standing on a cliff overlooking the ocean. It’s night, and the ocean below him looks like a field of grass blowing in the wind, not the deep water it almost definitely is. He can hear the dull roar of the waves crashing against the cliff. Up here, he can’t smell the sea breeze but he feels it, strong enough to push him around dangerously.
“Well, call him here, then. The sooner we get this done, the better,” the queen says from behind him. He turns to see her waiting some distance away, surrounded by a small entourage. This plan is looking less feasible now that it’s actually happening. He doesn’t know how to call Lucifer, let alone how to convince him to stay while the faeries work their sacrifice. But he can’t back out now, not when, if he does, the queen will just use him to get Gabriel anyway. He doesn’t even know where he is, there’s no way he could try running.
Sam turns back to face the ocean. He closes his eyes and tries calling for Lucifer through prayer. It’s a twisted way to call the devil, but he is an angel.
“Sam,” comes a smooth voice from behind him, “this is unexpected. Though I can’t say I’m not pleased. I always knew you’d come around, eventually.”
“Lucifer,” Sam breathes.
Sam’s been gone too long. Of course, ‘too long’ for Gabriel is anything longer than a second, but that’s beside the point. He knows something’s wrong; he can feel it, even if he can’t pinpoint what it is. Sam needs him, so he’s going to find him.
Gabriel starts his search in town. Down an alley a few blocks from where they’re staying he finds the remains of a summoning ritual. Shit. That means Sam went straight to those assholes. He can’t fathom why, but no matter the reason it can’t be good.
He calls Anna down; if anyone has any information on the faeries’ movements, it will be her. She’s less than pleased with Gabriel, however.
“You LOST Sam? Seriously, how are you an archangel? I mean, most angels lose their vessels, no big deal. But you, you lose yours and it’s the end of the world, literally!” She glares at him, and if he didn’t know he has more power than she ever will, he’d be properly worried about the force of the anger behind it and what she might do to him. As it is, he’s already working himself up into a slight panic (though he’d never let the worry show, he thinks, he has more self-control than that).
“Yes, I’m a horrible person and this is why we can’t have nice things,” he snarks to cover his concern. “Now, could you please just help me find him? You know those assholes movements and where they like to go better than anyone else by now; you’ve gotta have some idea of where they’d take him.”
She relents quickly, and he must not have been as good as he’d hoped at covering his worry (or she just knows him that well) because she reaches out with her own grace to press against his in a gesture of angelic comfort. “We’ll find him,” she promises, “and it won’t be too late.”
As it turns out, Anna knows more about the faeries and their preferred hiding spots than Gabriel ever thought existed. She takes them to what seems like an infinite amount of underground caverns, clear lakes, and groves in the middle of dense forest before they find where the faeries are. And though it only takes seconds when flying, it feels like an eternity to Gabriel, whose sense of foreboding continues to increase.
They have a plan in place for getting to Sam and getting him out of there, but it all flies out of Gabriel’s head the moment they appear on the cliff. All he can see is Sam and Lucifer. Lucifer’s standing close to Sam, touching him in ways that are entirely too familiar, and Gabriel loses it. Sam does not belong to Lucifer, no matter what the devil says, and Gabriel is not going to lose yet another person he loves to his tricky older brother and his stupid crusade.
In his peripheral vision he can see Anna doing something with the faeries, but he knows it’s too late. If Lucifer’s here, they’ve already started the tithing process (and Sam, stupid, self-sacrificing Sam, must have volunteered as the tithe to call Lucifer).
Lucifer is ignoring the faeries entirely, obviously not believing they could be a threat, and he hasn’t seen Gabriel or Anna yet. Gabriel thinks it would be so easy to swoop in and grab Sam, let Lucifer be the tithe and get locked up. And as much as it pains him to leave one of his brothers to that fate, it’s still preferable to any of their deaths.
He quickly realizes it’s too late for even that, however, as he hears the roar of a giant wave coming towards the cliff and he knows with a sickening certitude that this is what will take the tithe and anyone surrounding them down to the Otherworld. There’s no escaping it, and Gabriel never realized how fast waves moved until just now as he swoops down, invisibly, to where Sam and Lucifer stand in the path of the wave.
He can’t get Sam and himself out of there in time, but he won’t let Sam sacrifice himself if this is what it comes to. Gabriel covers Sam with all that he is as an archangel, spreading his wings out to close around him completely. This way, he hopes, Sam will be spared the brunt of what’s about to happen. The wave’s more metaphysical than physical, so it’s likely to just drag down the most powerful things in the vicinity and leave everything else. He only hopes...well, he can’t get his hopes up, he thinks. Not now.
The wave crests the edge of the cliff, so close Gabriel can feel its spray, and then it’s on them. And in that moment the archangel Gabriel -- dies.
Part 4
Anna throws the last of the ingredients in the bowl and mutters “You better get your asses over here, right now, boys.”
Gabriel and Castiel appear almost simultaneously in the room, looking concerned and slightly confused, respectively.
“Those two,” she gestures at Sam and Dean, “are idiots. And you two are even bigger idiots for letting them wander around without protection and get drawn in by some glamours.”
Castiel still looks confused, he obviously doesn’t have much experience with faeries, but Gabriel manages to look both contrite and pissed. It’s a weird expression.
“What did I tell you about being careful?” Gabriel says, stalking over to Sam and looming over him in his chair. “I can’t let them just take you! I thought you had more sense than that. I just-” he deflates, seeing Sam’s deer-in-the-headlights expression. “Nothing happened?”
Sam shakes his head mutely, momentarily struck dumb by the anger coming from the angel.
“I got them out of there before they could do anything completely stupid,” Anna says. “They’re just lucky we could afford to leave when we did.” She sits down on the couch next to Jo who sits up long enough for her to sit down and then flops herself back down in the same place, on top of Anna.
“We’re done with the whole spy thing, by the way,” Jo says from her place on Anna. “We finally figured out what they’re after. You’re welcome.”
“What is it?” Gabriel asks, not taking his eyes off of Sam as though trying to keep him there by force of will alone.
“A tithe,” Anna says, wearily, absently stroking Jo’s hair. “They’re not any more happy about this whole apocalypse thing than we are, and they think they have a plan to stop it.
“So do some of the other gods,” Gabriel says, “I’ve been listening in on ‘em since they stopped inviting me to their parties.”
“Yeah, but the faeries plan might actually work. They’re going to use one of us to lure in Michael or Lucifer, they’re not picky, and then use us as a tithe to open up the Otherworld and let whatever’s in there out long enough to drag whoever shows up, in.”
“So, it’s like locking Luci back up in Hell, only somewhere else?” Gabriel looks thoughtful. “That could work; the Otherworld’s even more impenetrable than Hell, anyway. Only, neither of us want to be tithes.”
“Uh, what’s a tithe?” Sam asks, interrupting them, “I’m guessing it has nothing to do with the church tithe.”
“A tithe, Samsquatch, in this instance is a sacrifice the faeries have to make every few years. Usually just for continued protection, but apparently they’re making different plans this time. It’s gotta be willing, or someone who owes them a debt, for maximum effectiveness.”
The conversation goes on for a while in that direction, and Sam lets his mind wander. This tithe plan seems as likely a plan as any they’ve had recently, more so, really. The body count’s racking up, and the longer they draw this out the more loved ones they’re going to lose. This whole thing’s his fault anyway; he couldn’t let things go (and now he realizes that’s what Gabriel was trying to teach him back before Dean went to Hell) and he broke the last seal. The least he can do is fix it, right? If it weren’t for him, neither Gabriel nor Anna would be on the run from all sides like this. Jo wouldn’t be hunted. None of this would be happening. If a tithe needs to be willing, well, he will be, he decides.
Sam settles back into his chair, his relief at having an honest-to-god workable plan lightening his mood considerably. He smiles at Gabriel, who’s sprawled in a chair beside him, legs over the armrest. Gabriel smiles back and kicks lightly at Sam. Yes, Sam thinks, this plan is best for everyone. No one else should have to die for his stupid mistakes. Especially not Gabriel.
It’s easier than Sam thought it would be to sneak away from Dean and the angels. He tells them he’s going across the street for some food and though Gabriel rolls his eyes and offers to snap up whatever they want right there, he lets Sam go.
Sam’s been preparing for this, and hustles as far away as he can so as not to draw suspicion while he attempts to summon a faerie. The ritual goes smoothly, and within minutes Sam’s surrounded by a small horde of short, squat, vaguely boulder-like creatures.
One steps forward. “Why would you summon us?” it asks, glancing around as if expecting some kind of trap.
“I’d like to speak to the queen,” Sam says, sure of this, at least. He’s been doing some research since that horrible faerie party, and he thinks he knows what’s what.
“Not a trap?” one of the other creatures asks.
“No, no trap, just y’know, take me to your leader,” Sam says, holding back a desperate laugh as the reality of the situation begins to intrude.
“Very well.”
A crack, and Sam’s suddenly in a dark, slightly damp, hall. The only light comes from a few lamps set up at one end, illuminating a throne and small table covered in food. On the throne sits one of the most beautiful women he’s ever seen, her dark hair done up over her head, on top of which sits a crown. Her eyes are dark and he can see them glitter from where he stands at the other end of the hall. She wears a slinky dress that shows off her body in ways that are almost obscene.
“Yes?” she says. She has a dark voice, one that suggests all manner of dangerous things in a single word.
“I have an offer to make.”
“Oh? Going to fetch me that pesky archangel of yours, are you? He’s been very entertaining, but I tire of his games.” She beckons Sam closer and he comes, unable to do anything but. He’s no longer susceptible to glamour, but the queen has other powers of persuasion open to her.
“No, I’m not giving you Gabriel,” Sam says, stopping in front of her, and he’s shocked at the angry, possessive tone in his voice that he can’t quite hold back. “He’s mine.” What the hell? Since when did he think of Gabriel as his? The archangel quite clearly belonged to nobody but himself.
“Then I’m afraid I don’t want anything else from you. Guards!” The guards snap to Sam’s side before he can blink. “Use him to get the angel. Do whatever you need to, have some fun with him, first.” She turns to the spread laid out before her and proceeds to ignore Sam.
“Wait!” Sam struggles against the guards, “you didn’t hear my offer!” The queen continues to ignore him.
“Take me as your tithe,” he says, still struggling.
The queen glances briefly at him before returning her attention to the food in front of her. It’s raw and bloody and glistens in the lamplight of the hall; Sam doesn’t look too closely, afraid of what it might turn out to be.
“I’m serious! You want Lucifer, Lucifer wants me; I can bring him to you.”
She turns, then, considering. “Hmm,” she purrs, “a willing sacrifice is very...appealing.” She smiles and her teeth glitter sharply.
There’s a crack, and Sam is standing on a cliff overlooking the ocean. It’s night, and the ocean below him looks like a field of grass blowing in the wind, not the deep water it almost definitely is. He can hear the dull roar of the waves crashing against the cliff. Up here, he can’t smell the sea breeze but he feels it, strong enough to push him around dangerously.
“Well, call him here, then. The sooner we get this done, the better,” the queen says from behind him. He turns to see her waiting some distance away, surrounded by a small entourage. This plan is looking less feasible now that it’s actually happening. He doesn’t know how to call Lucifer, let alone how to convince him to stay while the faeries work their sacrifice. But he can’t back out now, not when, if he does, the queen will just use him to get Gabriel anyway. He doesn’t even know where he is, there’s no way he could try running.
Sam turns back to face the ocean. He closes his eyes and tries calling for Lucifer through prayer. It’s a twisted way to call the devil, but he is an angel.
“Sam,” comes a smooth voice from behind him, “this is unexpected. Though I can’t say I’m not pleased. I always knew you’d come around, eventually.”
“Lucifer,” Sam breathes.
Sam’s been gone too long. Of course, ‘too long’ for Gabriel is anything longer than a second, but that’s beside the point. He knows something’s wrong; he can feel it, even if he can’t pinpoint what it is. Sam needs him, so he’s going to find him.
Gabriel starts his search in town. Down an alley a few blocks from where they’re staying he finds the remains of a summoning ritual. Shit. That means Sam went straight to those assholes. He can’t fathom why, but no matter the reason it can’t be good.
He calls Anna down; if anyone has any information on the faeries’ movements, it will be her. She’s less than pleased with Gabriel, however.
“You LOST Sam? Seriously, how are you an archangel? I mean, most angels lose their vessels, no big deal. But you, you lose yours and it’s the end of the world, literally!” She glares at him, and if he didn’t know he has more power than she ever will, he’d be properly worried about the force of the anger behind it and what she might do to him. As it is, he’s already working himself up into a slight panic (though he’d never let the worry show, he thinks, he has more self-control than that).
“Yes, I’m a horrible person and this is why we can’t have nice things,” he snarks to cover his concern. “Now, could you please just help me find him? You know those assholes movements and where they like to go better than anyone else by now; you’ve gotta have some idea of where they’d take him.”
She relents quickly, and he must not have been as good as he’d hoped at covering his worry (or she just knows him that well) because she reaches out with her own grace to press against his in a gesture of angelic comfort. “We’ll find him,” she promises, “and it won’t be too late.”
As it turns out, Anna knows more about the faeries and their preferred hiding spots than Gabriel ever thought existed. She takes them to what seems like an infinite amount of underground caverns, clear lakes, and groves in the middle of dense forest before they find where the faeries are. And though it only takes seconds when flying, it feels like an eternity to Gabriel, whose sense of foreboding continues to increase.
They have a plan in place for getting to Sam and getting him out of there, but it all flies out of Gabriel’s head the moment they appear on the cliff. All he can see is Sam and Lucifer. Lucifer’s standing close to Sam, touching him in ways that are entirely too familiar, and Gabriel loses it. Sam does not belong to Lucifer, no matter what the devil says, and Gabriel is not going to lose yet another person he loves to his tricky older brother and his stupid crusade.
In his peripheral vision he can see Anna doing something with the faeries, but he knows it’s too late. If Lucifer’s here, they’ve already started the tithing process (and Sam, stupid, self-sacrificing Sam, must have volunteered as the tithe to call Lucifer).
Lucifer is ignoring the faeries entirely, obviously not believing they could be a threat, and he hasn’t seen Gabriel or Anna yet. Gabriel thinks it would be so easy to swoop in and grab Sam, let Lucifer be the tithe and get locked up. And as much as it pains him to leave one of his brothers to that fate, it’s still preferable to any of their deaths.
He quickly realizes it’s too late for even that, however, as he hears the roar of a giant wave coming towards the cliff and he knows with a sickening certitude that this is what will take the tithe and anyone surrounding them down to the Otherworld. There’s no escaping it, and Gabriel never realized how fast waves moved until just now as he swoops down, invisibly, to where Sam and Lucifer stand in the path of the wave.
He can’t get Sam and himself out of there in time, but he won’t let Sam sacrifice himself if this is what it comes to. Gabriel covers Sam with all that he is as an archangel, spreading his wings out to close around him completely. This way, he hopes, Sam will be spared the brunt of what’s about to happen. The wave’s more metaphysical than physical, so it’s likely to just drag down the most powerful things in the vicinity and leave everything else. He only hopes...well, he can’t get his hopes up, he thinks. Not now.
The wave crests the edge of the cliff, so close Gabriel can feel its spray, and then it’s on them. And in that moment the archangel Gabriel -- dies.
Part 4