for a_tricky_one

[paterelohim]

Who: God and Gabriel
When: Immediately after the events of "Hammer of the Gods"
What: Resurrection, and rare moments of active fatherhood.

With a snap and a twist, a Coyote falls dead.

Comments

[a_tricky_one]

Somewhere in the back of Gabriel's mind, he'd known it would go down like this. Why else had he given Dean and Sam that video to tell them how to shove Lucifer back in his cage? He hadn't stood a chance against his brother. He'd had one last trick up his sleeve, a last ditch effort.

But how does one trick the one person who taught you how?

He sees the blade gut him, but it takes him a moment to understand what it means. He barely even feels the pain of it, at first. The physical pain, anyway. The emotional pain of being murdered by his own brother- the one he'd planned to kill himself, was unbearable. Lucifer stands over him caught somewhere between mocking and sad. A twist of the blade, a scream, a blinding light and Gabriel feels nothing ever again.

Only... suddenly he does. He feels something so excruciating and unnatural it's near impossible to describe. It's almost like someone is attempting to pull him through the head of a pin the size of an electron.

Gabriel begins to slowly but surely exist once more and he comes into

[paterelohim]

And the town was leveled, reduced to smoking rubble too obliterated even for blood smears in the span of a second. Chuck had no eyes for the widespread destruction all around: there would be time for that later, and there was time for that later. For in His feeling of heart-stopping never-enough-time panic, time itself stopped to accommodate him, without the Father even consciously realizing that he'd done it. But the world arrested and came to a halt just for Him as He crossed the smoldering field of ash to crouch at the side of his screaming, bright-burning son

[a_tricky_one]

Gabriel hears the lullaby, as if its is at the end of a lengthy tunnel. He has the work to define the source of the familiar song. It had been ages since he'd heard it. He clawed his way into consciousnesses, his eyes blearily opening. It's bright and he has difficulty focusing on anything. But he notices the presence.

A presence he hadn't felt in thousands of years. As his vision clears, what he sees doesn't make sense, and his reborn mind is having trouble comprehending it. He's looking at Chuck Shurley. The Prophet. He'd never met him, but he knew of him. All Angels knew of the Prophets, even ones that had abandoned Heaven and impersonated pagan gods. His mouth is hoarse from screaming and he cannot speak. He barely has the strength to move, he just stares. Chuck can't be who he thinks, can he? But he has to be. And Gabriel's eyes flick through several emotions and settle on awe.

[paterelohim]

It's unfair, so Chuck reaches up with his free hand to stroke his son's forehead gently, and with the pass of a soft thumb over the angel's head some strength spikes through His son, just enough to give him the strength to shift his own weight and if he wants, to work up the gumption to say something.

Because after five thousand years of total absence save a few commands about the fate of one Yeshua Nazarean, Chuck sure as shit isn't going to break the silence. He doesn't have the right to speak first anymore, not until the angel does.