SPN: Into the Light: The Leader (2/4) [MA - NSFW]
Fandom:
Supernatural
Title:
Into the Light: The Leader
Part 2:
Death
Author:
lt_indigo
Pairing(s):
Sam/Gabriel, Dean/Cas, Bobby/Karen
Warning(s):
Explicit sexual content. Canon-typical violence & gore.
Word count:
8,138 this part
Written for:
sabrielbigbang 2015-16
Back to Part 1
Read on AO3
Sam was practically climbing the walls of Gabriel’s extra-dimensional home when he stumbled upon their next case: a spate of weird omens in Sioux Falls, of all places, and a possible dead man walking. Dean was scowling at him for being on the laptop, but promptly stopped when Sam shoved it at him.
“Huh. I’m sure Bobby’s on it.”
That was possible, Sam supposed: he wasn’t used to thinking of Bobby being on his feet any more. Gabriel had healed him up a few weeks back, tutting about the special care and attention that should be due to spinal cords, i.e. not shoving knives through them. Bobby had responded by threatening to trap him in holy oil for all eternity if he so much as put a foot wrong anywhere near any of his boys. At least Gabriel had laughed and taken it in the spirit it had been intended, because he hated to think what might happen to someone if Gabriel ever decided to take things personally. Let’s face it, the last time he had done that, Sam, Dean and Cas had spent days trapped in TV Land, with Bobby helpless to do anything.
It was possible that Bobby was on the case, but they all had their cell phones on and Bobby knew they weren’t working on a case right now. Even if he was on this, which it seemed so unlikely that he wouldn’t be since it was on his doorstep, he was on his own: why hadn’t he contacted Dean and/or Cas to help out? Sam got that Bobby wouldn’t bother him while he was recovering, but Dean and Cas were both okay and increasingly bored and fidgety and would welcome the distraction of a case. Sam would welcome the distraction of a case right now, because as nice as it was spending a bit of time away with Gabriel and their brothers with nothing better to do than drink beer and look into tracking the two remaining Horsemen and watch movies and try to find a spell that shows angels’ wings to humans and teach Cas to play poker, Sam was very much aware there was an apocalypse brewing outside their little bubble of semi-reality.
Gabriel gave the screen a cursory glance that probably took in every scrap of information. “About time we showed him how well Sam’s doing, don’t you think, Deano? Stop him worrying.”
Dean scowled at Gabriel, but it didn’t last for long. That level of persuasion, hitting him at the family level, never failed to change Dean’s mind.
“I guess. Fine. Give me ten to get my stuff together.”
He bustled off to his and Cas’ bedroom before Gabriel could say anything. Sam had no doubt that Gabriel would have packed Dean’s duffle for him, even exchanged the comfortable lounging sweatpants he was wearing for jeans during the flight, but Dean didn’t like it. Actually, now he thought about it, Sam realised he probably wanted to grab his stuff too, if they were heading back to reality.
“I can leave a door open to here,” Gabriel said softly in his ear, slouching onto the couch beside him and snuggling into his side. “It’s not the most subtle thing in the world if my bros are looking for it, but we could stay with Bobby and not be under his feet the whole time.”
Castiel glanced over. “Could we place sufficient warding at Bobby’s home to disguise an extra-dimensional hotspot?” he asked. “It would be helpful if we were able to access your library while still able to remain in touch with the real world. I feel somewhat disconnected here, and I know that Dean does too. He would rather have the comfort of his own home available to him.”
Sam scratched the back of his neck as Gabriel appeared to think about that one. “Yeah, I… it all feels a bit unreal here too, like it would be easy to forget about everything if I let myself. But there’s a whole world of people out there who don’t even know they’re relying on us to save them, and I’m just not feeling the urgency of that here. Cas is right - it would be great to have the library - but I’d love to keep our room, our little sanctuary, if we can.”
Gabriel was far too like Dean for his own good, and with both Cas and Sam working on him he had absolutely no chance of ever saying no. So in the ten minutes Dean took to wash up, change and gather his things, Cas and Gabriel put their heads together and came up with a way to ward the crap out of Bobby’s scrapyard and keep the angels from spotting the power bleed created by a doorway to a pocket universe.
A front door appeared to the apartment, and Gabriel opened it with a flourish to reveal the very welcome sight of Bobby’s basement. Apparently putting the doorway below ground level was a good start at hiding it.
“What the…?”
There was a surprised exclamation from upstairs that was perfectly audible to them, then: “Dean? Sam?”
“Hey, Bobby,” Sam shouted up, shouldering his way out past Gabriel and towards the stairs. “We’re just coming up now.”
The basement door was ripped open, flooding the rickety stairs with bright sunlight. “What has that idiot archangel of yours been up to now?”
“Bringing these bozos home,” Gabriel replied cheerfully. “Thought it was past time.”
Bobby pulled Sam into a tight hug when he got to the top of the stairs. “How you doing, boy?”
“Good,” Sam said, giving Bobby a firm pat on the back. “I’m good. Completely clean again.”
“You okay, Bobby?” Dean asked from the foot of the stairs. “Have you combed your hair?”
Sam took a step back and eyed Bobby carefully as he growled at Dean. He had combed his hair, and his clothes were clean and neat for a change, the omnipresent ball cap missing. It probably would be nice to see Bobby taking care of himself for once if it wasn’t so weird.
“Bobby? Is everything okay down there?”
That voice came from behind Bobby. A female voice, coming from the main house.
“You got to go,” Bobby hissed at them.
“You’re entertaining when there’s omens stacking up on the doorstep? A case?” Dean asked, disbelief clear in his voice. “Sure. We’ll just head on out the door and leave you and your lady friend to it.”
“Or we could just start investigating right here,” Gabriel added, hopping up onto the step beside Sam with an air of suspicion about him. “Why are you being so cagey, Bobby?”
“I imagine the fact that Bobby’s friend has no heartbeat may be contributing,” Cas said blandly, as if he didn’t know exactly how Dean was going to take that.
“What the…? Seriously? Bobby!”
“Bobby, who’s down there? Should I call the cops?”
“No! Don’t. It’s all fine, honey.”
Bobby looked guilty as all hell when he turned back to them.
“She ain’t hurting no-one.”
Sam sighed. No wonder Bobby hadn’t called if this woman was who he thought she was. This was going to be messy and awful.
Dean elbowed his way up the stairs and past Bobby, bursting into the main house. Bobby turned to stop him, leaving the way free for Sam to follow.
“Dean, she’s okay,” Bobby yelled, standing between the muzzle of Dean’s gun and a pale, sweet-faced young woman maybe about Dean’s age. “I swear, she’s okay. You think I didn’t check?”
“Cas says she’s got no heartbeat,” Dean growled, clearly searching for a shot that wouldn’t take Bobby out too. “That ain’t ‘okay’, Bobby.”
“You have been resurrected by supernatural forces,” Cas pointed out as he strode to Dean’s side and pointed the gun towards the floor with no effort at all. “You are fine.”
Dean looked at him incredulously. “That was you. That’s different.”
“How?” Gabriel asked. He had taken up residence on the couch and looked like he was about an inch from snapping up a bowl of popcorn. He was grinning, clearly enjoying playing devil’s advocate (which definitely needed a better term these days). “How is Cassie bringing you back any different from what’s going on here?”
Bobby looked baffled by the turn of events, and Sam couldn’t really blame him: no-one would have expected Cas to take anyone’s side but Dean’s, and Gabriel never took anyone’s side. Sam knew, because he knew Gabriel well enough, that Gabriel wasn’t really on Bobby’s side here - he was eyeing Mrs Singer far too much for that to be the case - but from Bobby’s perspective, it would definitely look like he was.
“Come on! I am totally different to… to…” He relinquished the gun to Cas and waved a hand towards Mrs Singer.
“Just because Cas did a slightly better job and you wound up with a heartbeat? Seems a bit vitalist to me.” Gabriel jumped up off the sofa and bound over to Mrs Singer. “Hi, I’m sorry about all the rudeness, Mrs Singer. I’m Gabriel; tall, dark and trench coat there is my brother Castiel; sasquatch here is Sam Winchester and the trigger happy moron is his brother Dean.”
.oOo.
Once everything settled and Karen went off to the kitchen to make a new pie or ten, Bobby broke out the Book of Revelation. Gabriel nodded and agreed that what was going on in Sioux Falls looked very much like Death’s handiwork to him, and that while Bobby was essentially right in that none of the prophecies spoke of the Rising being a bad thing, Death wasn’t one to hand out life willy-nilly, and maybe keeping an eye on the Risen wouldn’t be such a bad thing. And, he pointed out imperiously to Dean, these people were innocent (ish. But Clay Thompson was off the cards too, even if he had offed Benny Sutton) and no-one was to harm anyone unless shit started to go down, or they would have Gabriel to answer to. Even Dean wasn’t stupid enough to try to go toe-to-toe with an archangel without some serious backup. He knew Gabriel could finish him in the blink of an eye if he wanted to.
Bobby reluctantly gave Sam a list of those who had risen from the dead: twenty in total, including Karen. He warned them away from Owen Mills, the sheriff’s kid, because he didn’t want to draw too much attention, but said they could check out any of the others if it would shut Dean up about the dangers of zombies, since that’s what they clearly weren’t.
Cas and Dean took one half of the list, and Sam the other, while Gabriel set about both warding the house against the angels and trying to track down Death to find out exactly what was going on, since none of them seriously thought he had picked Sioux Falls by accident. They left with instructions from Karen to be back by six for supper. Dean gave her a terse smile and kicked Cas when he tried to object that he didn’t eat (the whole thing with Famine had put him off the idea). Sam liked to think he was more gracious about it, because as good as Gabriel’s food was, there was something to be said for a home-cooked meal, and he was sure that Karen Singer, alive or dead, was a much better cook than Bobby or Dean.
And by six, even Dean was forced to admit that things weren’t looking so bad on the zombie front. They all seemed to be behaving themselves; some even working and contributing to society once more. Sam had seen Owen Mills out with his father after school and, except for the pallor of his skin, the kid looked just like any other kid. Owen had been in the park with other kids his age, playing tag and grinning just as much as all the rest of them. Old Ezra Jones wasn’t looking too hot but, according to her husband, she had been sick for a little while before she died and this was just the same. Maybe it would be worth asking Gabriel if he could put the old lady to rest once more, to save her suffering? Sam was okay with people like Owen Mills and Karen Singer being brought back - those who had died young and not lived a full life - but to bring back an old, sick lady didn’t seem right to him.
The meal Karen served up was exceptional, tasty and healthy and not swimming in fat like their usual fare. There was more than enough pie to satisfy both Dean and Gabriel, and Sam volunteered himself and Gabriel to wash up while Karen relaxed. This earned him a deeply suspicious look from everyone, which Sam understood since both Gabriel and Cas could clean the dishes with a mere thought. As soon as the kitchen doors slid shut, Gabriel’s gaze softened into something more caring.
“What did you see that you don’t want to tell the others?”
He explained, hesitantly, unsure of how Gabriel would take the request. This wasn’t some abusive asshole, or a murderer; it was a little old lady who had probably never hurt anyone in her life. But Gabriel got it. He jumped up onto the worktop and pulled Sam into a gentle, tender kiss that eased out all the uncertainty Sam had been feeling.
“We’ll go talk to her tonight,” he vowed as he held Sam close. “I’ll do what I can, but Death is older and stronger than me. If he doesn’t like it, I won’t be able to help.”
“Just try,” Sam asked, his voice low so that it didn’t carry into the den. “Because this isn’t fair.”
“The world ain’t fair, Sammikins. We wouldn’t be here if it was. I would be able to grab every single dickbag before they hurt anyone, there would be no monsters, and good people would live their lives in peace. Kids would be happy all the time and not get sick, and my brothers wouldn’t be such colossal tools. But that’s what we’re fighting for, right? Our shitty, imperfect, unfair world, chock-full of monsters and free will?”
Sam punched Gabriel in the shoulder. It was gentle; wouldn’t even hurt him if he was human.
“Dick.”
“Yep.” He clicked his fingers and the dishes were not only done, but put away much more neatly than Sam ever would have managed. “Now, let’s go see your old lady, see if we can help her pass back over.”
.oOo.
As it turned out, Mrs Jones has welcomed her death with open arms the first time around and her husband, although heartbroken, had been grateful that she was no longer in any pain. When Gabriel explained exactly who he was, and that she wasn’t going to go to hell for wishing either of her lives away, they both cried with relief. Gabriel was careful to emphasise that because Ezra’s second life was something supernatural, he was going to try and release her, but he couldn’t make any promises.
He was so gentle and caring with the elderly couple that Sam’s heart ached. This was the Gabriel that he wished the rest of the world could see instead of the jokey and occasionally nasty Trickster. Sam knew that Gabriel could be like this, because this was the side of his personality that generally only he got to see because it was the side that was reverent and loving in the bedroom. It was the side that had come out just after Gabriel had come back from his time-travelling nightmare, and when Sam had been detoxing from the demon blood. It was the times that Gabriel most resembled the angel Sam had imagined him to be as a child. This was the Gabriel he could imagine being an older brother to Cas, being the angel of childbirth.
They withdrew to the kitchen to give Mr and Mrs Jones time to say their goodbyes to each other. They sat quietly, with Gabriel perched on Sam’s knee, just holding each other. Sam was horribly, painfully aware that one day, Gabriel was going to be in the place of Mr Jones, having to let go of Sam. They could pretend it wasn’t the case, but moments like this made it all the more obvious. Moments when the fragility of human life was made apparent to them, and Sam knew it shook Gabriel more than he was willing to admit because he couldn’t follow Sam, whichever way his soul was destined to go.
Mr Jones barely batted an eyelid at their closeness when he came in.
“She’s ready.”
Gabriel slid down and followed him back to the lounge, where Mrs Jones watched with eyes that shone with tears. Sam kept a respectful distance.
“Hey,” Gabriel said as he perched himself on the side of the bed. He gently wiped the tears from her cheeks. “What’s this? Are you absolutely sure about this?”
She nodded, her eyes desperate and pleading, and she grabbed his hand as if she was afraid that maybe he had changed his mind.
“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart,” Gabriel said soothingly. “I just wanted to be sure.”
He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Immediately, she gave a shuddering breath and relaxed back into the pillows. Her hand slumped, and Gabriel lay it carefully back onto the covers.
“Be at peace, my child,” he whispered softly.
“That was cheating,” a mild voice said from the corner of the room. Sam whirled to find a pale, skeletal man dressed in a black suit sitting in an old, forgotten armchair. His dark eyes were on Gabriel.
“She was in pain,” he countered, eyeing the newcomer warily. “And you let me help her.”
Sam noticed that Mr Jones wasn’t moving: there was a tear halfway down his cheek, immobile. The clock had stopped ticking. One or the other of the supernatural beings had stopped time, and since Sam was still aware, it was probably Gabriel.
“I wanted to see if you would get involved,” the thin man said. “This isn’t your fight, Gabriel.”
Gabriel’s expression flickered to curious. “And you aren’t exactly here by choice,” he countered. A wave of his hand revealed a spectral silver chain looping around Death’s wrists (because who else could this possibly be, really?). “Darling Luci made you his bitch.”
Death scowled and Sam took an involuntary step backwards. Pissing Death off seemed like a really bad idea to him. Maybe if you were immortal it didn’t seem so bad, but with Sam’s mortal perspective, it appeared to be somewhat suicidal.
“Your brother is playing a dangerous game,” Death said. “The very fact you have taken action here makes me believe you want no part of it. Michael would simply have allowed Lucifer’s plan to come to fruition, to see what would happen.”
“You mean, see how long the tethers on their souls last before they snap?” Gabriel demanded. “Because that’s what’s going to happen, isn’t it? They’ll snap back to wherever they’re supposed to be and leave twenty hungry animated corpses behind.”
“Nineteen, now,” Death corrected. “But yes. Samuel, it may interest you to know that Karen Singer has the strongest hold on hers; much, much stronger than any of the others, at Lucifer’s request. She is to deliver a message to her husband, which is ultimately for you: he grows tired of your refusal to cooperate.”
Death’s attention was uncomfortable to say the least. Sam could feel his palms grow clammy at the mere mention of his name, let alone Death’s message for him.
“Luci ain’t getting what he wants,” Gabriel said fiercely, moving to Sam’s side. “Sammy’s going to keep right on saying no, aren’t you?”
“Oh, how touching.” That was full of sarcasm, and Death looked a little nauseated as Gabriel grabbed Sam’s hand tightly.
“We need your help,” Sam blurted out. “With Lucifer.”
Death raised his hands, rattling the slender chain between his wrists and ankles. “I can’t do anything to assist you, no matter what my thoughts on the matter.”
There was a look of disdain on his face that spoke eloquently about what he actually thought of Lucifer and his captivity.
“What you need, more than me, is my ring,” Death added, nodding to his outstretched hand and the white-stoned ring adorning it. “Mine and those of my brothers. I believe you already have two.”
Death didn’t seem altogether pissed about that. He didn’t really seem bothered at all, actually. He was just so matter-of-fact about it. Maybe ‘brother’ meant something different to him than it did to Sam, or even to Cas and Gabriel. Maybe the Horsemen’s concept of family was different.
“Well, go on,” Death prodded impatiently. “I have a soul to guide back home.”
Remembering suddenly what Castiel had said about the rings not being for the angels, and how weird Gabriel had started to seem just from holding War’s, Sam stepped forwards. He was very hesitant about reaching out, but Death just sat there, his gaze almost gentle as he watched Sam. His hands were cool, but not as cold as Sam would have expected, and the ring slid free easily. It was a cool, heavy weight in Sam’s hand.
“Upstairs,” Gabriel said softly and somewhat incongruously. It took Sam a second or two to work out he was referring to old Ezra’s soul.
“Of course,” Death assured him. “Be sure you are prepared to do whatever you need to in order to end this; whatever sacrifice needs to be made.”
Sam nodded. “Yeah. Definitely.”
“Be sure, Samuel. And beware: Lucifer will notice you playing games if you try this with any more of them.”
And with that, Death was gone and time resumed. Without missing a beat, Gabriel pressed a kiss to Old Man Jones’ bald head and muttered a blessing Sam wasn’t entirely sure was of any Abrahamic derivation before withdrawing quietly and taking Sam with him.
It was all so surreal, and Sam would have questioned whether or not it had happened but for the weight of that opal ring in his hand.
“Nineteen walking time bombs.”
Gabriel sounded downright miserable, and Sam couldn’t blame him. They couldn’t draw attention to the fact that Gabriel was here, otherwise Lucifer might suspect they were up to something. He, nor the other angels, could begin to suspect what they were planning, because they couldn’t afford for anyone to try and put a stop to it, for them to throw up so much protection around Pestilence that he became unreachable. Sam had no doubt that the angels would do it if they discovered the truth, just to keep this stupid apocalypse on track. Death had allowed them this one, this sick old lady who didn’t deserve to be left in pain at Lucifer’s whim: he wouldn’t allow more of the zombies to be killed before their time, and Sam couldn’t bring himself to off any of them himself before they became monsters. Not after meeting so many of them today. Not after seeing little Owen Mills playing so innocently with his friends.
“How the hell do we warn them?” Sam asked. “This whole town is pretty pro-zombie right now. No-one will believe us.”
Gabriel shrugged. “We load up and keep watching. Nothing else we can do right now. We don’t know when they’re going to turn.”
Sam realised the instant they appeared on Bobby’s porch that even he wouldn’t believe them, because he didn’t want to. And why would he? Karen’s return was a blessing for him; an absolution for letting her down, for killing her. He had lived the last thirty or so years with that over his head, and now she was in his home looking after him like nothing had changed. What wouldn’t Sam give to see his mom, or Jess, even in the same shitty situation? Even with Gabriel at his side, because as awkward as that would be, Jess would always be part of his heart; his first proper love.
“Let them enjoy it,” Gabriel whispered, his hand paused on the door handle. “We can’t do anything more for them tonight.”
Sam took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah. You’re right. But…”
“I’ll keep an eye out, and so will Cassie. Come on, let’s go to bed.”
.oOo.
Gabriel kissed him all hard and desperate the second Sam stepped off the basement stairs, not even back in the apartment yet. He had held it together well in public, and even kept things light and jokey in front of Bobby and Karen, but Sam could feel the tremors in the hands that threaded tightly into his hair. He had allowed a lot of himself to be seen this evening, and as much as Sam might wish he would do it more, Gabriel had spent too long in hiding, too long as just Loki, to be comfortable with it.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured against Gabriel’s lips, holding him tightly. “I’m right here.”
Gabriel relaxed his death grip and dropped his head onto Sam’s shoulder; something he wouldn’t have been able to do had he not still been stood on the first step. “Take me home, Sam.”
Sam lifted him easily and Gabriel obligingly wrapped his legs around Sam’s waist. The door to the apartment opened before they reached it, and from there it was only a few steps to the bedroom they had made their own over the last week. Gabriel was kissing him again, trembling and frantic, as Sam lowered them both to the bed. Against his belly, he could feel how desperate Gabriel was for this, how much he needed this. Sam knew how he felt; before Gabriel, after Jess, the only time Sam had ever felt that need for sex was after they had lost someone during a hunt. It wasn’t that he found hunting a turn-on, or death, but that there was something in him that equated sex with life.
He unbuttoned Gabriel’s shirt slowly, oh so slowly, and carefully slid it and his jacket from his shoulders. Sam loved the smoothness of Gabriel’s skin, could spend hours worshipping it in the moments Gabriel was all desperate and clingy like this instead of the domineering side that came out when Sam needed it to. He lowered his mouth to suck a mark into Gabriel’s skin, just above where his collar would sit, if the bruise lasted until morning. Gabriel groaned and writhed under him, throwing his head back to expose more of his throat to Sam. Sam took the blatant invitation and sucked another mark, at the junction of his collarbone, before moving down to bite down on a nipple.
Gabriel yelled and bucked up against Sam. He was too desperate to draw out the foreplay for too long, and Sam was okay with that. With one hand, he reached over and grabbed the lube from the nightstand. With the other, he unfastened his jeans. He kicked his boots off and worked his jeans off as quickly as he could, hoping that Gabriel would get the message and dispose of his own pants one way or another.
He did, but as Sam reached behind himself with lubed-up fingers, Gabriel caught his hand. His eyes were bright and wild.
“Me,” he said. “I want… I need… Sam, I…”
Sam kissed him, to shut him up, to show his understanding. Gabriel had never asked for this before, never been able to give enough of himself before. Sam didn’t know whether it was allowing himself to be the archangel for a change, or meeting with Death, or ending old Ezra’s suffering, but he wasn’t going to argue too much. That said:
“You sure this is what you want?”
“Yes. Please?”
Sam circled a finger around the pucker of Gabriel’s ass, drawing a whimper from him. There was no resistance as he tested; his finger slid right in and Gabriel sighed with relief. His eyes fluttered closed as his whole body seemed to welcome Sam in. Sam worked a second finger in and crooked them, dragging them until Gabriel gave a shout. His body jerked and his cock pulsed, leaking pre-come copiously. Sam rubbed his palm over the head of Gabriel’s flushed cock, coating his hand in the slick fluid and started out a lazy handjob as a counterpoint to his fingers.
Gabriel’s hands fisted the sheets, his breathing picking up as writhed beneath Sam.
“Dammit, stop teasing,” he gasped. “I won’t break.”
Sam slid a third finger in and found Gabriel as ready and welcoming as he had been for the first two, rolling his hips back to take as much as possible.
“Come on, Sammy!”
Gabriel would make Sam wait if he begged; he would string out the teasing for many more minutes. But Gabriel had the patience of a… saint seemed the wrong word, really. Sam wasn’t patient at all: that gorgeous, pert ass was swallowing his fingers easily and his dick was aching to get a piece of that action.
Hastily, Sam lubed up his cock and ran the head around the red, sensitive rim. Gabriel whimpered in frustration, before sighing with relief as Sam finally pushed in. He grabbed Gabriel’s thighs and pulled his ass flush.
“Yesss,” Gabriel hissed.
“Pillow,” Sam suggested, getting a glare from his lover before there was a snap and an insta-pillow appeared to support Gabriel’s hips. With a smile, Sam relaxed and leaned over to kiss Gabriel, who grabbed at him hungrily, as if his very life, at that moment, depended on kissing Sam.
Gabriel was a surprisingly quiet and intense bottom. They moved together as naturally as they did any other time, with Gabriel taking everything Sam could give with a kind of desperate ferocity. He clung to Sam as he came, bright white and shaking and pulling Sam right over with him as his grace seemed to touch Sam’s very soul.
Gabriel’s glow was contained to just his eyes, turning them into molten gold, when Sam decided that “Wow,” was an appropriate summation of his feelings. Gabriel chuckled and effortlessly rolled Sam onto his side, cleaned them both up and insinuated himself into the space under Sam’s chin. His skin was hot and dry against Sam’s chest. One leg wound up and over his, as possessive as the hand in his hair. It was comforting to know that Gabriel wanted to keep him so close, and Sam wrapped his arms more tightly around Gabriel’s unfeasibly and unfairly skinny frame, hoping to let him know that Sam wanted him too, more than he would probably ever be able to say out loud.
As he was drifting off, he heard Gabriel murmur: “Definitely better than the sex dolls.”
Artwork by Nintendo's Trickster
Sam was alone when he woke up, without even a feather as a token, a symbol that Gabriel had been and snuck out in the night. He thought, after… Had Gabriel panicked after all, after giving so much of himself to Sam? Letting go like that? Had Gabriel finally snapped, just like Sam had been afraid he would? It had been Gabriel’s first time with a real person, after all, rather than one of the flesh creations he had dubbed ‘sex dolls’.
He sat with his head in his hands for a moment, willing himself not to panic or worry. Gabriel just didn’t sleep, and that was a fact. Watching Sam get however many hours of downtime his body demanded of him wasn’t the most thrilling thing ever, and that was why Sam had never really minded before now that Gabriel would disappear in the middle of the night to go do whatever Trickster gods did to deserving assholes. It was just…
There were nineteen undead people walking around Sioux Falls, and that was what Sam needed to focus on right now. Forget anything else, whatever personal dilemmas he and Gabriel may or may not be having; that was the important thing. Sam forced himself to get out of bed, and he grabbed his jeans and tee from the floor. Pulling the clothing on to at least make himself decent, he headed out of the apartment and upstairs in search of coffee and sustenance.
He breathed a sigh of relief before he got either: apparently his over-active imagination had gotten the better of him, because Gabriel was in the den, surrounded by stacks of Bobby’s books. Cas was there too, staring at the computer as if it had personally offended him, and so was Karen, who greeted him with a mug of coffee and a smile.
“They’ve been here all night,” she said softly, as if she didn’t want to disturb them. “Your Gabriel certainly likes his pie, doesn’t he?”
“He likes anything sweet,” Sam said. He took a sip of the coffee, which was a million times better than they usually got from Bobby’s. It tasted like the filter had been cleaned at some point in recent history, which was a novelty both here and in the places they tended to frequent on the road. “Do you know what they’re looking for?”
She gave him an odd look. “They’re watching me,” she said. There was no accusation in it, just acceptance. “They’re making a good show of everything else, but they’re waiting to see if I’ll turn.”
“Cas is trying to track Pestilence,” Gabriel said without looking up. “He’s learned to use the internet, crappy as Bobby’s connection is, and he’s a strategist: he’ll find it easier to work out what he’s up to, what his endgame is. I’m trying to cobble together a spell for you to see me.”
Sam stepped over the pile of books and turned Gabriel’s head to him, pulling him into a kiss. He couldn’t think of any other way to express how much that meant to him. Yes, they might have been watching Karen too, but they wouldn’t have wasted the night just doing that, not with so much else still going on. Karen and the rest of the zombies were important right now, but Pestilence still needed finding and stopping, and then Lucifer. And even in the middle of all that, Gabriel still thought it was important to do something just because it would make Sam happy.
He rested his forehead against Gabriel’s, just enjoying being there with him. They had been together, without a break, for more than two weeks now, and Sam was rapidly realising it wasn’t enough: he hated that Gabriel might disappear again one day, even if it was only for a short time. He hated that he would never be able to be with Gabriel forever, that he couldn’t be what Gabriel needed from him. But he was determined to be what Gabriel needed right now, so that he would stay. Selfish, maybe, but Sam wasn’t sure he could stand to find himself alone again. Not now.
His stomach rumbled and Gabriel laughed, breaking the moment. “Come on, champ; let’s get you fed. You too, kid.”
Cas looked up sharply. “I am not hungry, Gabriel.”
“Castiel, conserve your grace and feed your damn vessel, okay?”
Oh, so that was what the eating was about. Sam hadn’t been sure. It made a lot of sense, really, because keeping a human body alive and healthy had to be a drain on resources that Cas could probably put to better use elsewhere while he still had some grace left.
Cas gave Gabriel a truly wounded look and reluctantly got up and moved over to the table.
“Please excuse my brother, Karen; he doesn’t mean to be rude,” Gabriel was saying. “He’s just not used to the idea of needing to eat yet. It’s all kinds of messy and gross when you’re a bit too aware of it.”
Karen looked around from the griddle with that sunny smile she always seemed to have. “I understand. I don’t need to eat any more, and it’s as disturbing that way round as I imagine it is for Castiel. I’ll make you some pancakes anyway, dear,” she added, addressing Cas, “but don’t feel you have to eat them if you don’t want to.”
“I should,” Cas admitted, taking a seat at the table. “Gabriel is right: my vessel is capable of fuelling itself, I just need to… get over it.”
Sam snorted into his coffee. Karen chuckled and Gabriel looked positively delighted that Cas would say something so very human.
“Sam, would you go tell Bobby and Dean that breakfast is nearly ready?” Karen asked after a couple of minutes. “They’re outside, working on one of the cars. They should just have enough time to wash up.”
That explained why he hadn’t seen his brother yet. Dean hardly slept, so it was unusual for him not to be up before Sam. Him helping out with the junkers made a lot more sense than Dean still being asleep. He headed out, and found them both bent over the engine compartment of a rusty old Chevy, probably salvaging parts for the Impala.
“Karen’s making pancakes,” he called out. “She says they’re nearly ready.”
“Great, I’m starving!” Dean’s head came up right away. Bobby was a touch slower, grumbling as something objected. Looked like a hip from the way he limped slightly. Gabriel might have fixed his spine, but Bobby wasn’t exactly a spring chicken any more.
.oOo.
It was late in the afternoon, with them all on edge and watching the zombies like hawks while pretending not to, that something clicked in Sam’s head; something Death had said that had been nagging at him ever since and he couldn’t think why.
“Karen’s different to the rest.”
Gabriel sighed and continued his surveillance of the play park: Owen and Sean Mills were there, as was Clay Thompson and his daughter, Sarah. “Not enough.”
“Death said she had a better grasp on her soul than the rest. That sounds different to me.”
Gabriel gave him a sideways glance, as if maybe the conversation might be worthy of his attention after all. “What are you thinking?”
“Cas brought Dean back with a hell of a lot less to work with,” Sam observed carefully. “And it’s not like we’re talking about killing another one of the zombies.”
That definitely got Gabriel’s full attention. “No, you’re talking about completely changing the state of play for the one Lucifer cares the most about.”
“It’s not like he’s here watching. Is he?”
That was a sudden and very worrying thought. Sam was positive Gabriel would have mentioned it before (and been very much elsewhere), but it set a little thread of panic off.
“Nah, he’s probably half a planet away by now if he’s got any sense. He’d know if we mess up the status quo too badly, but he’s not watching.” Gabriel sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “But this is Death’s power, Sam. It’s very, very different to mine. He let me release Ezra Jones.”
Sam grinned. “There’s no way he would have said that about Karen if he didn’t think we would use it. And…” He held up Death’s ring. “We have this too. Source of Death’s power.”
Gabriel snorted. “Not for him, not like it is for the other Horsemen, but it’s powerful in its own right.”
He had grown thoughtful towards the end, with a little frown. His hand was half stretched out as if to take the ring, but he was stopping himself. “Maybe. Maybe. I’d probably need Cas to ground me, which means you and Deano keeping an eye on the other eighteen solo.”
Sam pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “We hunted without you guys for years,” he assured Gabriel. “Not that we’re not grateful for the backup, but I’m sure we can manage without you for a couple hours.”
.oOo.
Karen had seemed a little uncertain when Gabriel explained the plan to her, but Bobby looked so quietly desperate that she got up and tugged gently at Bobby’s hand, excusing them as she led him away, out into the back yard, to talk away from prying ears. Of course, Gabriel and Cas would have no problem eavesdropping if they felt like it, but if they did listen in, they didn’t say anything.
Bobby and Karen came back after over fifteen minutes, hand in hand and ready to start. Karen’s head was held high, but it was clear that she was trembling, her nerves getting the better of her. It probably didn’t help that Gabriel had been as honest as he had been with Ezra Jones about his ability to counteract Death’s power. Gabriel had seemed a little more hopeful this time, but he still clearly hadn’t wanted to get their hopes up just in case he couldn’t manage it after all.
In the end, it was Cas who ended up wearing the ring and channelling its power through his grace to Gabriel (“I am a soldier, Gabriel: I am much more accustomed to death’s touch than you. I am also much less of a liability should something go awry.”). Dean looked in no way happy about the situation, but reluctantly agreed that his time would be better spent watching the others, because it ran with their luck that things would go to shit while the two angels were busy bringing Karen all the way back to life rather than just halfway.
And, of course, they had been right to be sceptical about their luck. It started to happen not long after they got back into town. Owen Mills was the first to turn; falling sick at the park and being taken home. A sick zombie didn’t sound good to either Sam or Dean, and they followed the Millses home, just in case things went bad. Awful as it was, they couldn’t have asked for a better first victim, really, because the sheriff just seemed to get it after seeing her son eating her husband. She managed to pull things together and stow the horrendous crap she would need to process later in order to help save her town. They gathered people in the jail, armed them, explained that, actually, the zombie movies had something right and headshots were the way forward. It had worked on little Owen, anyway; something that would probably fuel Dean’s nightmares for a good long while, no matter how necessary it had been.
Once people were armed and informed, they set out and quickly realised where the undead were heading. And these definitely weren’t your shambling, uncoordinated dead: they were fucking scary and fast, and they were heading to Bobby’s. Of course they were, because this was all about Bobby in the end, because it was all a twisted plot to get Sam’s attention. Whether Bobby died or just lost himself because of Karen, this was all about taking Bobby out of the equation and Sam wasn’t going to let that happen. No way was Sam losing another parent to Lucifer’s insane conspiracy.
They raced back to the scrapyard with Sheriff Mills in tow, Dean driving and she and Sam hanging out the windows, taking aim. They took out two on the way there - a man and a woman - and found another six roaming the junkyard. Which was creepy as all hell at night when it was crawling with zombies that were trying to eat your stomach. Sam had never felt uncomfortable among the junkers before, but he sure was now as the three of them were faced with the undead appearing from the deep shadows and attacking. Sam found himself on his back with two of them crawling over him, desperately trying to shove and kick them away, to get his gun under them so he could shoot them. It was Jody who rescued him in the end, taking one out and giving Sam a chance to shoot the other one.
She was stony-faced as she helped him up. It was a coping mechanism Sam had seen before, and would probably see again. It wasn’t bad; she was functional, after all, and would probably remain so until the job was done, but afterwards was going to be a complete disaster for her. It probably didn’t help that these were all people she knew; people she was sworn to protect.
They took a minute to reload before taking on the house, and they could hear the distinctive report of a shotgun before they even opened the door. The scene that greeted them was both awesome and horrifying at the same time. Karen, flush with life, had the shotgun and a wicked good aim; Bobby had his revolver, and Cas and Gabriel both had their blades out. Sam watched, open-mouthed, as Gabriel stabbed a grey-faced, rabid woman in the eye. Jody just took aim without hesitation and took out one of the few that was left, as did Karen and Bobby.
It was over within a matter of seconds of their arrival. Sam could see nine corpses littering the floor of the den, which accounted for all of the people who had risen by his count. But not everyone still standing was unscathed.
“Gabriel? What happened?”
Gabriel looked up at him with tired eyes as Sam grabbed him to inspect the bleeding gash on his left arm.
“Cas winged me as he stabbed Clay Thompson in the face,” he said dismissively. “I’ll be fine in a few hours. Check out what we did, though.”
He sounded so proud as gestured to Karen. She looked embarrassed to be the centre of attention, especially as Jody was staring blatantly and distrustfully at her; something Sam couldn’t blame her for since Karen was supposed to be dead. Since Karen blatantly wasn’t dead when Jody’s son and husband were. Sam couldn’t even begin to imagine exactly what Jody was thinking, whether or not she was going to get through this latest development without breaking down.
“You did good,” Sam assured Gabriel, giving him a tight, reassuring hug, but with his eyes still on the women. “You feeling okay, Karen?”
Karen nodded to him. “Never better, Sam, thank you. I just wish they had been able to do that for everyone.”
Sam glanced at Jody again, then the dead bodies at their feet. “Yeah, me too.”
“Sheriff? Why don’t you come sit down away from all this for a moment?” Karen took Jody by the elbow and led her into the kitchen. “Boys? Can you do something about this while I get some the sheriff some sweet tea and some pie?”
“Would you get some for Gabriel too, Karen?” Cas asked, eyeing his brother carefully. “He has exerted more of his strength than he would care to admit.”
Karen gave the most lovely smile, and Sam found it so, so easy to see why Bobby had fallen for this beautiful, kind-hearted woman. “Of course, Cas. You’ll need to watch your helping around this one, Sheriff: he’s a fiend for sweet things and you need the sugar right now. And Castiel? Don’t forget to give that ring back.”
Cas stiffened, but nodded. Karen gave him a stern look, and he took a hold of the ring Sam only now noticed on his left hand. He hesitated only momentarily before sliding it from his finger and holding it out to Dean. Dean snatched it from him quickly, and all the tension seemed to drain from Cas with that one simple exchange, the instant the ring was away from him and with someone he knew would keep it safe. Karen, seemingly satisfied, slid the doors closed on the scene of devastation, presumably to keep Jody’s mind from going into overload. The sheriff was dropping into shock, and the more they could do to avoid making it worse, the better it would be for her.
“You okay, Cas?” Dean asked, his voice gruff with concern as he stashed the ring in the zipped pocket on the inside of his jacket, along with the other two.
“I am fine, Dean,” Cas said. He knelt and picked up the body of an ex-zombie easily. “Death’s ring did not affect me as much as I believe it would have done to Gabriel.”
Dean’s frown spoke volumes of disbelief.
“I am fine, Dean. We have a job to do here.”
He strode out, leaving Dean with no choice but to get on with clearing the house. “Come on, Sam; let’s get these outside. Bobby, you still got your stash of wood?”
Bobby rolled his eyes. “What am I, an amateur?”
“Sam?”
Sam blinked and tore his eyes away from the blood on his hand. Gabriel’s blood. Not a lot - barely a few drops, but was it enough? Would he be able to see Gabriel’s wings again for a little while?
“Uh, yeah. Coming”
On to Part 3a
Back to Part 1
Read on AO3
Sam was practically climbing the walls of Gabriel’s extra-dimensional home when he stumbled upon their next case: a spate of weird omens in Sioux Falls, of all places, and a possible dead man walking. Dean was scowling at him for being on the laptop, but promptly stopped when Sam shoved it at him.
“Huh. I’m sure Bobby’s on it.”
That was possible, Sam supposed: he wasn’t used to thinking of Bobby being on his feet any more. Gabriel had healed him up a few weeks back, tutting about the special care and attention that should be due to spinal cords, i.e. not shoving knives through them. Bobby had responded by threatening to trap him in holy oil for all eternity if he so much as put a foot wrong anywhere near any of his boys. At least Gabriel had laughed and taken it in the spirit it had been intended, because he hated to think what might happen to someone if Gabriel ever decided to take things personally. Let’s face it, the last time he had done that, Sam, Dean and Cas had spent days trapped in TV Land, with Bobby helpless to do anything.
It was possible that Bobby was on the case, but they all had their cell phones on and Bobby knew they weren’t working on a case right now. Even if he was on this, which it seemed so unlikely that he wouldn’t be since it was on his doorstep, he was on his own: why hadn’t he contacted Dean and/or Cas to help out? Sam got that Bobby wouldn’t bother him while he was recovering, but Dean and Cas were both okay and increasingly bored and fidgety and would welcome the distraction of a case. Sam would welcome the distraction of a case right now, because as nice as it was spending a bit of time away with Gabriel and their brothers with nothing better to do than drink beer and look into tracking the two remaining Horsemen and watch movies and try to find a spell that shows angels’ wings to humans and teach Cas to play poker, Sam was very much aware there was an apocalypse brewing outside their little bubble of semi-reality.
Gabriel gave the screen a cursory glance that probably took in every scrap of information. “About time we showed him how well Sam’s doing, don’t you think, Deano? Stop him worrying.”
Dean scowled at Gabriel, but it didn’t last for long. That level of persuasion, hitting him at the family level, never failed to change Dean’s mind.
“I guess. Fine. Give me ten to get my stuff together.”
He bustled off to his and Cas’ bedroom before Gabriel could say anything. Sam had no doubt that Gabriel would have packed Dean’s duffle for him, even exchanged the comfortable lounging sweatpants he was wearing for jeans during the flight, but Dean didn’t like it. Actually, now he thought about it, Sam realised he probably wanted to grab his stuff too, if they were heading back to reality.
“I can leave a door open to here,” Gabriel said softly in his ear, slouching onto the couch beside him and snuggling into his side. “It’s not the most subtle thing in the world if my bros are looking for it, but we could stay with Bobby and not be under his feet the whole time.”
Castiel glanced over. “Could we place sufficient warding at Bobby’s home to disguise an extra-dimensional hotspot?” he asked. “It would be helpful if we were able to access your library while still able to remain in touch with the real world. I feel somewhat disconnected here, and I know that Dean does too. He would rather have the comfort of his own home available to him.”
Sam scratched the back of his neck as Gabriel appeared to think about that one. “Yeah, I… it all feels a bit unreal here too, like it would be easy to forget about everything if I let myself. But there’s a whole world of people out there who don’t even know they’re relying on us to save them, and I’m just not feeling the urgency of that here. Cas is right - it would be great to have the library - but I’d love to keep our room, our little sanctuary, if we can.”
Gabriel was far too like Dean for his own good, and with both Cas and Sam working on him he had absolutely no chance of ever saying no. So in the ten minutes Dean took to wash up, change and gather his things, Cas and Gabriel put their heads together and came up with a way to ward the crap out of Bobby’s scrapyard and keep the angels from spotting the power bleed created by a doorway to a pocket universe.
A front door appeared to the apartment, and Gabriel opened it with a flourish to reveal the very welcome sight of Bobby’s basement. Apparently putting the doorway below ground level was a good start at hiding it.
“What the…?”
There was a surprised exclamation from upstairs that was perfectly audible to them, then: “Dean? Sam?”
“Hey, Bobby,” Sam shouted up, shouldering his way out past Gabriel and towards the stairs. “We’re just coming up now.”
The basement door was ripped open, flooding the rickety stairs with bright sunlight. “What has that idiot archangel of yours been up to now?”
“Bringing these bozos home,” Gabriel replied cheerfully. “Thought it was past time.”
Bobby pulled Sam into a tight hug when he got to the top of the stairs. “How you doing, boy?”
“Good,” Sam said, giving Bobby a firm pat on the back. “I’m good. Completely clean again.”
“You okay, Bobby?” Dean asked from the foot of the stairs. “Have you combed your hair?”
Sam took a step back and eyed Bobby carefully as he growled at Dean. He had combed his hair, and his clothes were clean and neat for a change, the omnipresent ball cap missing. It probably would be nice to see Bobby taking care of himself for once if it wasn’t so weird.
“Bobby? Is everything okay down there?”
That voice came from behind Bobby. A female voice, coming from the main house.
“You got to go,” Bobby hissed at them.
“You’re entertaining when there’s omens stacking up on the doorstep? A case?” Dean asked, disbelief clear in his voice. “Sure. We’ll just head on out the door and leave you and your lady friend to it.”
“Or we could just start investigating right here,” Gabriel added, hopping up onto the step beside Sam with an air of suspicion about him. “Why are you being so cagey, Bobby?”
“I imagine the fact that Bobby’s friend has no heartbeat may be contributing,” Cas said blandly, as if he didn’t know exactly how Dean was going to take that.
“What the…? Seriously? Bobby!”
“Bobby, who’s down there? Should I call the cops?”
“No! Don’t. It’s all fine, honey.”
Bobby looked guilty as all hell when he turned back to them.
“She ain’t hurting no-one.”
Sam sighed. No wonder Bobby hadn’t called if this woman was who he thought she was. This was going to be messy and awful.
Dean elbowed his way up the stairs and past Bobby, bursting into the main house. Bobby turned to stop him, leaving the way free for Sam to follow.
“Dean, she’s okay,” Bobby yelled, standing between the muzzle of Dean’s gun and a pale, sweet-faced young woman maybe about Dean’s age. “I swear, she’s okay. You think I didn’t check?”
“Cas says she’s got no heartbeat,” Dean growled, clearly searching for a shot that wouldn’t take Bobby out too. “That ain’t ‘okay’, Bobby.”
“You have been resurrected by supernatural forces,” Cas pointed out as he strode to Dean’s side and pointed the gun towards the floor with no effort at all. “You are fine.”
Dean looked at him incredulously. “That was you. That’s different.”
“How?” Gabriel asked. He had taken up residence on the couch and looked like he was about an inch from snapping up a bowl of popcorn. He was grinning, clearly enjoying playing devil’s advocate (which definitely needed a better term these days). “How is Cassie bringing you back any different from what’s going on here?”
Bobby looked baffled by the turn of events, and Sam couldn’t really blame him: no-one would have expected Cas to take anyone’s side but Dean’s, and Gabriel never took anyone’s side. Sam knew, because he knew Gabriel well enough, that Gabriel wasn’t really on Bobby’s side here - he was eyeing Mrs Singer far too much for that to be the case - but from Bobby’s perspective, it would definitely look like he was.
“Come on! I am totally different to… to…” He relinquished the gun to Cas and waved a hand towards Mrs Singer.
“Just because Cas did a slightly better job and you wound up with a heartbeat? Seems a bit vitalist to me.” Gabriel jumped up off the sofa and bound over to Mrs Singer. “Hi, I’m sorry about all the rudeness, Mrs Singer. I’m Gabriel; tall, dark and trench coat there is my brother Castiel; sasquatch here is Sam Winchester and the trigger happy moron is his brother Dean.”
.oOo.
Once everything settled and Karen went off to the kitchen to make a new pie or ten, Bobby broke out the Book of Revelation. Gabriel nodded and agreed that what was going on in Sioux Falls looked very much like Death’s handiwork to him, and that while Bobby was essentially right in that none of the prophecies spoke of the Rising being a bad thing, Death wasn’t one to hand out life willy-nilly, and maybe keeping an eye on the Risen wouldn’t be such a bad thing. And, he pointed out imperiously to Dean, these people were innocent (ish. But Clay Thompson was off the cards too, even if he had offed Benny Sutton) and no-one was to harm anyone unless shit started to go down, or they would have Gabriel to answer to. Even Dean wasn’t stupid enough to try to go toe-to-toe with an archangel without some serious backup. He knew Gabriel could finish him in the blink of an eye if he wanted to.
Bobby reluctantly gave Sam a list of those who had risen from the dead: twenty in total, including Karen. He warned them away from Owen Mills, the sheriff’s kid, because he didn’t want to draw too much attention, but said they could check out any of the others if it would shut Dean up about the dangers of zombies, since that’s what they clearly weren’t.
Cas and Dean took one half of the list, and Sam the other, while Gabriel set about both warding the house against the angels and trying to track down Death to find out exactly what was going on, since none of them seriously thought he had picked Sioux Falls by accident. They left with instructions from Karen to be back by six for supper. Dean gave her a terse smile and kicked Cas when he tried to object that he didn’t eat (the whole thing with Famine had put him off the idea). Sam liked to think he was more gracious about it, because as good as Gabriel’s food was, there was something to be said for a home-cooked meal, and he was sure that Karen Singer, alive or dead, was a much better cook than Bobby or Dean.
And by six, even Dean was forced to admit that things weren’t looking so bad on the zombie front. They all seemed to be behaving themselves; some even working and contributing to society once more. Sam had seen Owen Mills out with his father after school and, except for the pallor of his skin, the kid looked just like any other kid. Owen had been in the park with other kids his age, playing tag and grinning just as much as all the rest of them. Old Ezra Jones wasn’t looking too hot but, according to her husband, she had been sick for a little while before she died and this was just the same. Maybe it would be worth asking Gabriel if he could put the old lady to rest once more, to save her suffering? Sam was okay with people like Owen Mills and Karen Singer being brought back - those who had died young and not lived a full life - but to bring back an old, sick lady didn’t seem right to him.
The meal Karen served up was exceptional, tasty and healthy and not swimming in fat like their usual fare. There was more than enough pie to satisfy both Dean and Gabriel, and Sam volunteered himself and Gabriel to wash up while Karen relaxed. This earned him a deeply suspicious look from everyone, which Sam understood since both Gabriel and Cas could clean the dishes with a mere thought. As soon as the kitchen doors slid shut, Gabriel’s gaze softened into something more caring.
“What did you see that you don’t want to tell the others?”
He explained, hesitantly, unsure of how Gabriel would take the request. This wasn’t some abusive asshole, or a murderer; it was a little old lady who had probably never hurt anyone in her life. But Gabriel got it. He jumped up onto the worktop and pulled Sam into a gentle, tender kiss that eased out all the uncertainty Sam had been feeling.
“We’ll go talk to her tonight,” he vowed as he held Sam close. “I’ll do what I can, but Death is older and stronger than me. If he doesn’t like it, I won’t be able to help.”
“Just try,” Sam asked, his voice low so that it didn’t carry into the den. “Because this isn’t fair.”
“The world ain’t fair, Sammikins. We wouldn’t be here if it was. I would be able to grab every single dickbag before they hurt anyone, there would be no monsters, and good people would live their lives in peace. Kids would be happy all the time and not get sick, and my brothers wouldn’t be such colossal tools. But that’s what we’re fighting for, right? Our shitty, imperfect, unfair world, chock-full of monsters and free will?”
Sam punched Gabriel in the shoulder. It was gentle; wouldn’t even hurt him if he was human.
“Dick.”
“Yep.” He clicked his fingers and the dishes were not only done, but put away much more neatly than Sam ever would have managed. “Now, let’s go see your old lady, see if we can help her pass back over.”
.oOo.
As it turned out, Mrs Jones has welcomed her death with open arms the first time around and her husband, although heartbroken, had been grateful that she was no longer in any pain. When Gabriel explained exactly who he was, and that she wasn’t going to go to hell for wishing either of her lives away, they both cried with relief. Gabriel was careful to emphasise that because Ezra’s second life was something supernatural, he was going to try and release her, but he couldn’t make any promises.
He was so gentle and caring with the elderly couple that Sam’s heart ached. This was the Gabriel that he wished the rest of the world could see instead of the jokey and occasionally nasty Trickster. Sam knew that Gabriel could be like this, because this was the side of his personality that generally only he got to see because it was the side that was reverent and loving in the bedroom. It was the side that had come out just after Gabriel had come back from his time-travelling nightmare, and when Sam had been detoxing from the demon blood. It was the times that Gabriel most resembled the angel Sam had imagined him to be as a child. This was the Gabriel he could imagine being an older brother to Cas, being the angel of childbirth.
They withdrew to the kitchen to give Mr and Mrs Jones time to say their goodbyes to each other. They sat quietly, with Gabriel perched on Sam’s knee, just holding each other. Sam was horribly, painfully aware that one day, Gabriel was going to be in the place of Mr Jones, having to let go of Sam. They could pretend it wasn’t the case, but moments like this made it all the more obvious. Moments when the fragility of human life was made apparent to them, and Sam knew it shook Gabriel more than he was willing to admit because he couldn’t follow Sam, whichever way his soul was destined to go.
Mr Jones barely batted an eyelid at their closeness when he came in.
“She’s ready.”
Gabriel slid down and followed him back to the lounge, where Mrs Jones watched with eyes that shone with tears. Sam kept a respectful distance.
“Hey,” Gabriel said as he perched himself on the side of the bed. He gently wiped the tears from her cheeks. “What’s this? Are you absolutely sure about this?”
She nodded, her eyes desperate and pleading, and she grabbed his hand as if she was afraid that maybe he had changed his mind.
“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart,” Gabriel said soothingly. “I just wanted to be sure.”
He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Immediately, she gave a shuddering breath and relaxed back into the pillows. Her hand slumped, and Gabriel lay it carefully back onto the covers.
“Be at peace, my child,” he whispered softly.
“That was cheating,” a mild voice said from the corner of the room. Sam whirled to find a pale, skeletal man dressed in a black suit sitting in an old, forgotten armchair. His dark eyes were on Gabriel.
“She was in pain,” he countered, eyeing the newcomer warily. “And you let me help her.”
Sam noticed that Mr Jones wasn’t moving: there was a tear halfway down his cheek, immobile. The clock had stopped ticking. One or the other of the supernatural beings had stopped time, and since Sam was still aware, it was probably Gabriel.
“I wanted to see if you would get involved,” the thin man said. “This isn’t your fight, Gabriel.”
Gabriel’s expression flickered to curious. “And you aren’t exactly here by choice,” he countered. A wave of his hand revealed a spectral silver chain looping around Death’s wrists (because who else could this possibly be, really?). “Darling Luci made you his bitch.”
Death scowled and Sam took an involuntary step backwards. Pissing Death off seemed like a really bad idea to him. Maybe if you were immortal it didn’t seem so bad, but with Sam’s mortal perspective, it appeared to be somewhat suicidal.
“Your brother is playing a dangerous game,” Death said. “The very fact you have taken action here makes me believe you want no part of it. Michael would simply have allowed Lucifer’s plan to come to fruition, to see what would happen.”
“You mean, see how long the tethers on their souls last before they snap?” Gabriel demanded. “Because that’s what’s going to happen, isn’t it? They’ll snap back to wherever they’re supposed to be and leave twenty hungry animated corpses behind.”
“Nineteen, now,” Death corrected. “But yes. Samuel, it may interest you to know that Karen Singer has the strongest hold on hers; much, much stronger than any of the others, at Lucifer’s request. She is to deliver a message to her husband, which is ultimately for you: he grows tired of your refusal to cooperate.”
Death’s attention was uncomfortable to say the least. Sam could feel his palms grow clammy at the mere mention of his name, let alone Death’s message for him.
“Luci ain’t getting what he wants,” Gabriel said fiercely, moving to Sam’s side. “Sammy’s going to keep right on saying no, aren’t you?”
“Oh, how touching.” That was full of sarcasm, and Death looked a little nauseated as Gabriel grabbed Sam’s hand tightly.
“We need your help,” Sam blurted out. “With Lucifer.”
Death raised his hands, rattling the slender chain between his wrists and ankles. “I can’t do anything to assist you, no matter what my thoughts on the matter.”
There was a look of disdain on his face that spoke eloquently about what he actually thought of Lucifer and his captivity.
“What you need, more than me, is my ring,” Death added, nodding to his outstretched hand and the white-stoned ring adorning it. “Mine and those of my brothers. I believe you already have two.”
Death didn’t seem altogether pissed about that. He didn’t really seem bothered at all, actually. He was just so matter-of-fact about it. Maybe ‘brother’ meant something different to him than it did to Sam, or even to Cas and Gabriel. Maybe the Horsemen’s concept of family was different.
“Well, go on,” Death prodded impatiently. “I have a soul to guide back home.”
Remembering suddenly what Castiel had said about the rings not being for the angels, and how weird Gabriel had started to seem just from holding War’s, Sam stepped forwards. He was very hesitant about reaching out, but Death just sat there, his gaze almost gentle as he watched Sam. His hands were cool, but not as cold as Sam would have expected, and the ring slid free easily. It was a cool, heavy weight in Sam’s hand.
“Upstairs,” Gabriel said softly and somewhat incongruously. It took Sam a second or two to work out he was referring to old Ezra’s soul.
“Of course,” Death assured him. “Be sure you are prepared to do whatever you need to in order to end this; whatever sacrifice needs to be made.”
Sam nodded. “Yeah. Definitely.”
“Be sure, Samuel. And beware: Lucifer will notice you playing games if you try this with any more of them.”
And with that, Death was gone and time resumed. Without missing a beat, Gabriel pressed a kiss to Old Man Jones’ bald head and muttered a blessing Sam wasn’t entirely sure was of any Abrahamic derivation before withdrawing quietly and taking Sam with him.
It was all so surreal, and Sam would have questioned whether or not it had happened but for the weight of that opal ring in his hand.
“Nineteen walking time bombs.”
Gabriel sounded downright miserable, and Sam couldn’t blame him. They couldn’t draw attention to the fact that Gabriel was here, otherwise Lucifer might suspect they were up to something. He, nor the other angels, could begin to suspect what they were planning, because they couldn’t afford for anyone to try and put a stop to it, for them to throw up so much protection around Pestilence that he became unreachable. Sam had no doubt that the angels would do it if they discovered the truth, just to keep this stupid apocalypse on track. Death had allowed them this one, this sick old lady who didn’t deserve to be left in pain at Lucifer’s whim: he wouldn’t allow more of the zombies to be killed before their time, and Sam couldn’t bring himself to off any of them himself before they became monsters. Not after meeting so many of them today. Not after seeing little Owen Mills playing so innocently with his friends.
“How the hell do we warn them?” Sam asked. “This whole town is pretty pro-zombie right now. No-one will believe us.”
Gabriel shrugged. “We load up and keep watching. Nothing else we can do right now. We don’t know when they’re going to turn.”
Sam realised the instant they appeared on Bobby’s porch that even he wouldn’t believe them, because he didn’t want to. And why would he? Karen’s return was a blessing for him; an absolution for letting her down, for killing her. He had lived the last thirty or so years with that over his head, and now she was in his home looking after him like nothing had changed. What wouldn’t Sam give to see his mom, or Jess, even in the same shitty situation? Even with Gabriel at his side, because as awkward as that would be, Jess would always be part of his heart; his first proper love.
“Let them enjoy it,” Gabriel whispered, his hand paused on the door handle. “We can’t do anything more for them tonight.”
Sam took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah. You’re right. But…”
“I’ll keep an eye out, and so will Cassie. Come on, let’s go to bed.”
.oOo.
Gabriel kissed him all hard and desperate the second Sam stepped off the basement stairs, not even back in the apartment yet. He had held it together well in public, and even kept things light and jokey in front of Bobby and Karen, but Sam could feel the tremors in the hands that threaded tightly into his hair. He had allowed a lot of himself to be seen this evening, and as much as Sam might wish he would do it more, Gabriel had spent too long in hiding, too long as just Loki, to be comfortable with it.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured against Gabriel’s lips, holding him tightly. “I’m right here.”
Gabriel relaxed his death grip and dropped his head onto Sam’s shoulder; something he wouldn’t have been able to do had he not still been stood on the first step. “Take me home, Sam.”
Sam lifted him easily and Gabriel obligingly wrapped his legs around Sam’s waist. The door to the apartment opened before they reached it, and from there it was only a few steps to the bedroom they had made their own over the last week. Gabriel was kissing him again, trembling and frantic, as Sam lowered them both to the bed. Against his belly, he could feel how desperate Gabriel was for this, how much he needed this. Sam knew how he felt; before Gabriel, after Jess, the only time Sam had ever felt that need for sex was after they had lost someone during a hunt. It wasn’t that he found hunting a turn-on, or death, but that there was something in him that equated sex with life.
He unbuttoned Gabriel’s shirt slowly, oh so slowly, and carefully slid it and his jacket from his shoulders. Sam loved the smoothness of Gabriel’s skin, could spend hours worshipping it in the moments Gabriel was all desperate and clingy like this instead of the domineering side that came out when Sam needed it to. He lowered his mouth to suck a mark into Gabriel’s skin, just above where his collar would sit, if the bruise lasted until morning. Gabriel groaned and writhed under him, throwing his head back to expose more of his throat to Sam. Sam took the blatant invitation and sucked another mark, at the junction of his collarbone, before moving down to bite down on a nipple.
Gabriel yelled and bucked up against Sam. He was too desperate to draw out the foreplay for too long, and Sam was okay with that. With one hand, he reached over and grabbed the lube from the nightstand. With the other, he unfastened his jeans. He kicked his boots off and worked his jeans off as quickly as he could, hoping that Gabriel would get the message and dispose of his own pants one way or another.
He did, but as Sam reached behind himself with lubed-up fingers, Gabriel caught his hand. His eyes were bright and wild.
“Me,” he said. “I want… I need… Sam, I…”
Sam kissed him, to shut him up, to show his understanding. Gabriel had never asked for this before, never been able to give enough of himself before. Sam didn’t know whether it was allowing himself to be the archangel for a change, or meeting with Death, or ending old Ezra’s suffering, but he wasn’t going to argue too much. That said:
“You sure this is what you want?”
“Yes. Please?”
Sam circled a finger around the pucker of Gabriel’s ass, drawing a whimper from him. There was no resistance as he tested; his finger slid right in and Gabriel sighed with relief. His eyes fluttered closed as his whole body seemed to welcome Sam in. Sam worked a second finger in and crooked them, dragging them until Gabriel gave a shout. His body jerked and his cock pulsed, leaking pre-come copiously. Sam rubbed his palm over the head of Gabriel’s flushed cock, coating his hand in the slick fluid and started out a lazy handjob as a counterpoint to his fingers.
Gabriel’s hands fisted the sheets, his breathing picking up as writhed beneath Sam.
“Dammit, stop teasing,” he gasped. “I won’t break.”
Sam slid a third finger in and found Gabriel as ready and welcoming as he had been for the first two, rolling his hips back to take as much as possible.
“Come on, Sammy!”
Gabriel would make Sam wait if he begged; he would string out the teasing for many more minutes. But Gabriel had the patience of a… saint seemed the wrong word, really. Sam wasn’t patient at all: that gorgeous, pert ass was swallowing his fingers easily and his dick was aching to get a piece of that action.
Hastily, Sam lubed up his cock and ran the head around the red, sensitive rim. Gabriel whimpered in frustration, before sighing with relief as Sam finally pushed in. He grabbed Gabriel’s thighs and pulled his ass flush.
“Yesss,” Gabriel hissed.
“Pillow,” Sam suggested, getting a glare from his lover before there was a snap and an insta-pillow appeared to support Gabriel’s hips. With a smile, Sam relaxed and leaned over to kiss Gabriel, who grabbed at him hungrily, as if his very life, at that moment, depended on kissing Sam.
Gabriel was a surprisingly quiet and intense bottom. They moved together as naturally as they did any other time, with Gabriel taking everything Sam could give with a kind of desperate ferocity. He clung to Sam as he came, bright white and shaking and pulling Sam right over with him as his grace seemed to touch Sam’s very soul.
Gabriel’s glow was contained to just his eyes, turning them into molten gold, when Sam decided that “Wow,” was an appropriate summation of his feelings. Gabriel chuckled and effortlessly rolled Sam onto his side, cleaned them both up and insinuated himself into the space under Sam’s chin. His skin was hot and dry against Sam’s chest. One leg wound up and over his, as possessive as the hand in his hair. It was comforting to know that Gabriel wanted to keep him so close, and Sam wrapped his arms more tightly around Gabriel’s unfeasibly and unfairly skinny frame, hoping to let him know that Sam wanted him too, more than he would probably ever be able to say out loud.
As he was drifting off, he heard Gabriel murmur: “Definitely better than the sex dolls.”
Artwork by Nintendo's Trickster
Sam was alone when he woke up, without even a feather as a token, a symbol that Gabriel had been and snuck out in the night. He thought, after… Had Gabriel panicked after all, after giving so much of himself to Sam? Letting go like that? Had Gabriel finally snapped, just like Sam had been afraid he would? It had been Gabriel’s first time with a real person, after all, rather than one of the flesh creations he had dubbed ‘sex dolls’.
He sat with his head in his hands for a moment, willing himself not to panic or worry. Gabriel just didn’t sleep, and that was a fact. Watching Sam get however many hours of downtime his body demanded of him wasn’t the most thrilling thing ever, and that was why Sam had never really minded before now that Gabriel would disappear in the middle of the night to go do whatever Trickster gods did to deserving assholes. It was just…
There were nineteen undead people walking around Sioux Falls, and that was what Sam needed to focus on right now. Forget anything else, whatever personal dilemmas he and Gabriel may or may not be having; that was the important thing. Sam forced himself to get out of bed, and he grabbed his jeans and tee from the floor. Pulling the clothing on to at least make himself decent, he headed out of the apartment and upstairs in search of coffee and sustenance.
He breathed a sigh of relief before he got either: apparently his over-active imagination had gotten the better of him, because Gabriel was in the den, surrounded by stacks of Bobby’s books. Cas was there too, staring at the computer as if it had personally offended him, and so was Karen, who greeted him with a mug of coffee and a smile.
“They’ve been here all night,” she said softly, as if she didn’t want to disturb them. “Your Gabriel certainly likes his pie, doesn’t he?”
“He likes anything sweet,” Sam said. He took a sip of the coffee, which was a million times better than they usually got from Bobby’s. It tasted like the filter had been cleaned at some point in recent history, which was a novelty both here and in the places they tended to frequent on the road. “Do you know what they’re looking for?”
She gave him an odd look. “They’re watching me,” she said. There was no accusation in it, just acceptance. “They’re making a good show of everything else, but they’re waiting to see if I’ll turn.”
“Cas is trying to track Pestilence,” Gabriel said without looking up. “He’s learned to use the internet, crappy as Bobby’s connection is, and he’s a strategist: he’ll find it easier to work out what he’s up to, what his endgame is. I’m trying to cobble together a spell for you to see me.”
Sam stepped over the pile of books and turned Gabriel’s head to him, pulling him into a kiss. He couldn’t think of any other way to express how much that meant to him. Yes, they might have been watching Karen too, but they wouldn’t have wasted the night just doing that, not with so much else still going on. Karen and the rest of the zombies were important right now, but Pestilence still needed finding and stopping, and then Lucifer. And even in the middle of all that, Gabriel still thought it was important to do something just because it would make Sam happy.
He rested his forehead against Gabriel’s, just enjoying being there with him. They had been together, without a break, for more than two weeks now, and Sam was rapidly realising it wasn’t enough: he hated that Gabriel might disappear again one day, even if it was only for a short time. He hated that he would never be able to be with Gabriel forever, that he couldn’t be what Gabriel needed from him. But he was determined to be what Gabriel needed right now, so that he would stay. Selfish, maybe, but Sam wasn’t sure he could stand to find himself alone again. Not now.
His stomach rumbled and Gabriel laughed, breaking the moment. “Come on, champ; let’s get you fed. You too, kid.”
Cas looked up sharply. “I am not hungry, Gabriel.”
“Castiel, conserve your grace and feed your damn vessel, okay?”
Oh, so that was what the eating was about. Sam hadn’t been sure. It made a lot of sense, really, because keeping a human body alive and healthy had to be a drain on resources that Cas could probably put to better use elsewhere while he still had some grace left.
Cas gave Gabriel a truly wounded look and reluctantly got up and moved over to the table.
“Please excuse my brother, Karen; he doesn’t mean to be rude,” Gabriel was saying. “He’s just not used to the idea of needing to eat yet. It’s all kinds of messy and gross when you’re a bit too aware of it.”
Karen looked around from the griddle with that sunny smile she always seemed to have. “I understand. I don’t need to eat any more, and it’s as disturbing that way round as I imagine it is for Castiel. I’ll make you some pancakes anyway, dear,” she added, addressing Cas, “but don’t feel you have to eat them if you don’t want to.”
“I should,” Cas admitted, taking a seat at the table. “Gabriel is right: my vessel is capable of fuelling itself, I just need to… get over it.”
Sam snorted into his coffee. Karen chuckled and Gabriel looked positively delighted that Cas would say something so very human.
“Sam, would you go tell Bobby and Dean that breakfast is nearly ready?” Karen asked after a couple of minutes. “They’re outside, working on one of the cars. They should just have enough time to wash up.”
That explained why he hadn’t seen his brother yet. Dean hardly slept, so it was unusual for him not to be up before Sam. Him helping out with the junkers made a lot more sense than Dean still being asleep. He headed out, and found them both bent over the engine compartment of a rusty old Chevy, probably salvaging parts for the Impala.
“Karen’s making pancakes,” he called out. “She says they’re nearly ready.”
“Great, I’m starving!” Dean’s head came up right away. Bobby was a touch slower, grumbling as something objected. Looked like a hip from the way he limped slightly. Gabriel might have fixed his spine, but Bobby wasn’t exactly a spring chicken any more.
.oOo.
It was late in the afternoon, with them all on edge and watching the zombies like hawks while pretending not to, that something clicked in Sam’s head; something Death had said that had been nagging at him ever since and he couldn’t think why.
“Karen’s different to the rest.”
Gabriel sighed and continued his surveillance of the play park: Owen and Sean Mills were there, as was Clay Thompson and his daughter, Sarah. “Not enough.”
“Death said she had a better grasp on her soul than the rest. That sounds different to me.”
Gabriel gave him a sideways glance, as if maybe the conversation might be worthy of his attention after all. “What are you thinking?”
“Cas brought Dean back with a hell of a lot less to work with,” Sam observed carefully. “And it’s not like we’re talking about killing another one of the zombies.”
That definitely got Gabriel’s full attention. “No, you’re talking about completely changing the state of play for the one Lucifer cares the most about.”
“It’s not like he’s here watching. Is he?”
That was a sudden and very worrying thought. Sam was positive Gabriel would have mentioned it before (and been very much elsewhere), but it set a little thread of panic off.
“Nah, he’s probably half a planet away by now if he’s got any sense. He’d know if we mess up the status quo too badly, but he’s not watching.” Gabriel sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “But this is Death’s power, Sam. It’s very, very different to mine. He let me release Ezra Jones.”
Sam grinned. “There’s no way he would have said that about Karen if he didn’t think we would use it. And…” He held up Death’s ring. “We have this too. Source of Death’s power.”
Gabriel snorted. “Not for him, not like it is for the other Horsemen, but it’s powerful in its own right.”
He had grown thoughtful towards the end, with a little frown. His hand was half stretched out as if to take the ring, but he was stopping himself. “Maybe. Maybe. I’d probably need Cas to ground me, which means you and Deano keeping an eye on the other eighteen solo.”
Sam pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “We hunted without you guys for years,” he assured Gabriel. “Not that we’re not grateful for the backup, but I’m sure we can manage without you for a couple hours.”
.oOo.
Karen had seemed a little uncertain when Gabriel explained the plan to her, but Bobby looked so quietly desperate that she got up and tugged gently at Bobby’s hand, excusing them as she led him away, out into the back yard, to talk away from prying ears. Of course, Gabriel and Cas would have no problem eavesdropping if they felt like it, but if they did listen in, they didn’t say anything.
Bobby and Karen came back after over fifteen minutes, hand in hand and ready to start. Karen’s head was held high, but it was clear that she was trembling, her nerves getting the better of her. It probably didn’t help that Gabriel had been as honest as he had been with Ezra Jones about his ability to counteract Death’s power. Gabriel had seemed a little more hopeful this time, but he still clearly hadn’t wanted to get their hopes up just in case he couldn’t manage it after all.
In the end, it was Cas who ended up wearing the ring and channelling its power through his grace to Gabriel (“I am a soldier, Gabriel: I am much more accustomed to death’s touch than you. I am also much less of a liability should something go awry.”). Dean looked in no way happy about the situation, but reluctantly agreed that his time would be better spent watching the others, because it ran with their luck that things would go to shit while the two angels were busy bringing Karen all the way back to life rather than just halfway.
And, of course, they had been right to be sceptical about their luck. It started to happen not long after they got back into town. Owen Mills was the first to turn; falling sick at the park and being taken home. A sick zombie didn’t sound good to either Sam or Dean, and they followed the Millses home, just in case things went bad. Awful as it was, they couldn’t have asked for a better first victim, really, because the sheriff just seemed to get it after seeing her son eating her husband. She managed to pull things together and stow the horrendous crap she would need to process later in order to help save her town. They gathered people in the jail, armed them, explained that, actually, the zombie movies had something right and headshots were the way forward. It had worked on little Owen, anyway; something that would probably fuel Dean’s nightmares for a good long while, no matter how necessary it had been.
Once people were armed and informed, they set out and quickly realised where the undead were heading. And these definitely weren’t your shambling, uncoordinated dead: they were fucking scary and fast, and they were heading to Bobby’s. Of course they were, because this was all about Bobby in the end, because it was all a twisted plot to get Sam’s attention. Whether Bobby died or just lost himself because of Karen, this was all about taking Bobby out of the equation and Sam wasn’t going to let that happen. No way was Sam losing another parent to Lucifer’s insane conspiracy.
They raced back to the scrapyard with Sheriff Mills in tow, Dean driving and she and Sam hanging out the windows, taking aim. They took out two on the way there - a man and a woman - and found another six roaming the junkyard. Which was creepy as all hell at night when it was crawling with zombies that were trying to eat your stomach. Sam had never felt uncomfortable among the junkers before, but he sure was now as the three of them were faced with the undead appearing from the deep shadows and attacking. Sam found himself on his back with two of them crawling over him, desperately trying to shove and kick them away, to get his gun under them so he could shoot them. It was Jody who rescued him in the end, taking one out and giving Sam a chance to shoot the other one.
She was stony-faced as she helped him up. It was a coping mechanism Sam had seen before, and would probably see again. It wasn’t bad; she was functional, after all, and would probably remain so until the job was done, but afterwards was going to be a complete disaster for her. It probably didn’t help that these were all people she knew; people she was sworn to protect.
They took a minute to reload before taking on the house, and they could hear the distinctive report of a shotgun before they even opened the door. The scene that greeted them was both awesome and horrifying at the same time. Karen, flush with life, had the shotgun and a wicked good aim; Bobby had his revolver, and Cas and Gabriel both had their blades out. Sam watched, open-mouthed, as Gabriel stabbed a grey-faced, rabid woman in the eye. Jody just took aim without hesitation and took out one of the few that was left, as did Karen and Bobby.
It was over within a matter of seconds of their arrival. Sam could see nine corpses littering the floor of the den, which accounted for all of the people who had risen by his count. But not everyone still standing was unscathed.
“Gabriel? What happened?”
Gabriel looked up at him with tired eyes as Sam grabbed him to inspect the bleeding gash on his left arm.
“Cas winged me as he stabbed Clay Thompson in the face,” he said dismissively. “I’ll be fine in a few hours. Check out what we did, though.”
He sounded so proud as gestured to Karen. She looked embarrassed to be the centre of attention, especially as Jody was staring blatantly and distrustfully at her; something Sam couldn’t blame her for since Karen was supposed to be dead. Since Karen blatantly wasn’t dead when Jody’s son and husband were. Sam couldn’t even begin to imagine exactly what Jody was thinking, whether or not she was going to get through this latest development without breaking down.
“You did good,” Sam assured Gabriel, giving him a tight, reassuring hug, but with his eyes still on the women. “You feeling okay, Karen?”
Karen nodded to him. “Never better, Sam, thank you. I just wish they had been able to do that for everyone.”
Sam glanced at Jody again, then the dead bodies at their feet. “Yeah, me too.”
“Sheriff? Why don’t you come sit down away from all this for a moment?” Karen took Jody by the elbow and led her into the kitchen. “Boys? Can you do something about this while I get some the sheriff some sweet tea and some pie?”
“Would you get some for Gabriel too, Karen?” Cas asked, eyeing his brother carefully. “He has exerted more of his strength than he would care to admit.”
Karen gave the most lovely smile, and Sam found it so, so easy to see why Bobby had fallen for this beautiful, kind-hearted woman. “Of course, Cas. You’ll need to watch your helping around this one, Sheriff: he’s a fiend for sweet things and you need the sugar right now. And Castiel? Don’t forget to give that ring back.”
Cas stiffened, but nodded. Karen gave him a stern look, and he took a hold of the ring Sam only now noticed on his left hand. He hesitated only momentarily before sliding it from his finger and holding it out to Dean. Dean snatched it from him quickly, and all the tension seemed to drain from Cas with that one simple exchange, the instant the ring was away from him and with someone he knew would keep it safe. Karen, seemingly satisfied, slid the doors closed on the scene of devastation, presumably to keep Jody’s mind from going into overload. The sheriff was dropping into shock, and the more they could do to avoid making it worse, the better it would be for her.
“You okay, Cas?” Dean asked, his voice gruff with concern as he stashed the ring in the zipped pocket on the inside of his jacket, along with the other two.
“I am fine, Dean,” Cas said. He knelt and picked up the body of an ex-zombie easily. “Death’s ring did not affect me as much as I believe it would have done to Gabriel.”
Dean’s frown spoke volumes of disbelief.
“I am fine, Dean. We have a job to do here.”
He strode out, leaving Dean with no choice but to get on with clearing the house. “Come on, Sam; let’s get these outside. Bobby, you still got your stash of wood?”
Bobby rolled his eyes. “What am I, an amateur?”
“Sam?”
Sam blinked and tore his eyes away from the blood on his hand. Gabriel’s blood. Not a lot - barely a few drops, but was it enough? Would he be able to see Gabriel’s wings again for a little while?
“Uh, yeah. Coming”
On to Part 3a