[The Dead Man’s Game ->]
Title: The Dead Man’s Game: A Question of Life or Death
Characters: Dean Winchester ♂, Sam Winchester ♂, Castiel ♂, Kafziel (OC) ♂
Rating: T" width="32px" /> (L2 N0 S0 V2 D0)
Warnings: Expletives, discussion of past murder, blasphemy, mentions of porn, vaguely cracky
Notes: Sam’s sure Gabriel’s dead. He was there for that. He spent decades listening to Lucifer angst about it. But, the angels in his living room aren’t so sure. Castiel might have seen Gabriel, recently, and Kafziel is pretty sure he’d have sensed it if his boss was actually dead. (Please forgive me if I accidentally flood Twitter. I’m trying to post these to the days I forgot to post them, in the hope that won’t happen.)
For the record, I’m writing this series (not this fic) in the wrong fucking order. I have at least two things started that go between this and part one. If you read "(Re)Making an Angel", Assume that Castiel has regained most of his memories, by now, and that he’s got his grace back.
"Hey, Kaz?" Sam looked over at the very large angel lying on the couch, laughing into a folder of documents, from one of the Men of Letters’ multitude of experiments.
Kafziel caught his breath and rubbed at the corner of his eye. "Can you believe they really thought —" A pause. "Oh, seriously confused face. What’s wrong, Moose?"
The ‘seriously confused face’ morphed into ‘Winchester bitchface #56: Don’t call me Moose’, and Sam took a deep breath, like he might actually say it, but just sighed, and refused to get sidetracked. "You always talk about Gabriel in the present tense. You know he died, right?"
The strangest look crossed Kafziel’s face. "No. Gabriel’s not dead. Hizkiel is probably dead, but not Gabriel."
"I was Lucifer’s vessel. I don’t have all of his memories, but I have that one like it was my own hand. Which it wasn’t. I wasn’t his vessel at the time." Sam closed the book he’d been reading. "I was almost there when it happened. I got Gabriel’s ‘If you’re watching this, I’m dead’ message. I had your demon brother’s nightmares about killing him. I’m pretty sure he’s dead."
"I am reasonably certain you are incorrect." Long, dark fingers slid the documents back into the folder, but the angel’s eyes never moved from Sam’s face. "I am reasonably certain Castiel agrees with me."
A flutter of wing-noise, and he appeared. "Hello, Sam. Taking my name in vain, again, Kafziel?"
"Never in vain." A lush and dangerous smile darted across Kafziel’s face. "We were talking about Gabriel. Sam’s under the impression he’s dead."
"I know why." Castiel nodded. "What I do not know is if he’s correct."
"What?" Sam breathed, betrayal washing across his shock-widened eyes. "No, no. We were there. Me and Dean. He’s dead. Lucifer killed him. Lucifer cried about killing him." And that was one of the very few things Sam would give the fallen archangel credit for.
"I saw him again, but I didn’t believe him to be real. I was certain he was a symptom of the delusion Metatron had set upon me." Castiel focused on the floor, in that way he did when he spoke of something he did not want to remember. "He said something to me that seemed strange, at the time, and I have never been able to fit it into Metatron’s intent, but if it is the truth, then Metatron’s intent has no relevance. Something about using his mojo to get back into porn."
"Literally." Sam’s eyes lit up, as spectacularly bad ideas began to form behind them. "Dean! Dean, where’s that copy of Casa Erotica 14?"
"Don’t you fucking sleep?" Dean asked, stumbling into the room in nothing but his boxers, rubbing the stubble on his cheek with one palm.
"Didn’t you stop sleeping?" Sam deadpanned. "Seriously, though. Casa Erotica 14."
"You got me out of bed so you could watch porno with angels? There is something wrong with you. There is something wrong with my entire life. My little brother wants to borrow my porn, so he can watch it with two angels of the Lord. Dear god, I know you’re not speaking to them, but I hope you’re talking to me, because I gotta ask: What did I ever do to deserve this?"
"One, you weren’t in bed. If you were in bed, you wouldn’t have been able to hear me, and we both know it. We live here. It’s our home. You don’t need an excuse to wander around in your underwear. Two, not that Casa Erotica. The special edition. The one with the, ah, extra footage?" Sam stared at his brother, willing him to understand, so he doesn’t have to say things he’d rather Crowley not overhear.
"Extra footage? What the hell are you— OH. Oh, that extra footage. With the hotel and the ex girlfriend and the woo-woo." Dean nodded. "Yeah, I think that’s still in the trunk. I don’t know. It didn’t —" seem right? really belong with my actual porn? "— It just didn’t make it inside. I forgot it was there."
"Yeah. Thanks. I’ll just go get that." Still deeply absorbed in whatever was going through his head, Sam got up and tried to get past his brother, in the doorway.
Dean grabbed his arm and looked up at him, confused and intent, despite the gleaming black of his eyes. "Sammy…?"
"Don’t ask me that. Not now. Not until I’m sure." Shaking off his brother’s hand, Sam stepped out into the hall, then turned around and wrapped his arms around Dean. "Just so you know? I love you. Even when you smell like sulphur."
"What the hell? Get off me, you weirdo." Dean huffed, as Sam unwrapped himself and headed down the hall. "And don’t you dare do something fatally stupid with my porn, you phillistine!"
Behind him, Kafziel clapped slowly. "Ah, the sound of brotherly love."
"Beats the hell out of you two, and your brotherly getting it on eight nights a week."
"Dean, there are only seven nights in a week," Castiel pointed out.
"He knows that, Castiel. He means that if he wanted to keep up with us, he’d need eight days for each seven we take." Kafziel levelled a terribly smug smile at Dean.
"Too many dicks in this sausage party. And didn’t your dad make a rule about not getting it on with your own siblings?"
"Actually, he didn’t. He made a rule about not with your father’s daughters. Our father didn’t have any daughters. To be fair, he also only had one son. And he had us. We don’t have genders. The rules don’t apply to us." Kafziel stopped looking quite as smug when Castiel’s elbow collided with the top of his head.
"Different rules apply to us. And we do have a sister. What about Sophia?"
"I’m pretty sure she’d laugh at you, even if she does prefer female vessels. She’s about as much ‘she’ as we are ‘he’. You know that. Besides, I think she’s more of an aunt, and I’m not getting close enough to her for it to matter, anyway."
"I liked reality better when I didn’t believe in angels," Dean complained, stalking out of the room.
"You love us anyway," Kafziel called after him.
"He loves me," Castiel pointed out. "I am less certain about you."
Sam returned, holding a DVD case and looking over his shoulder. "What did you two do to Dean? He’s raving about how he’ll rule in hell with no regrets…"
"Jealousy," Kafziel suggested, and watched Castiel start to say something. "No, I don’t mean envy. I mean he thinks I stole you and he wants you back."
"He doesn’t see me in that way, no matter how much you suggest it to him, which I wish you would stop doing, while he still reeks of sulphur."
"That never bothered you with Meg," Sam pointed out.
"That wasn’t Meg’s body," Castiel retorted.
"Oh, man, really? That’s the problem? Dammit." Sam sighed and opened the case, walking toward the television, to put on the disc. "I’m going to need to invest in Febreeze, at this rate."
Castiel’s hand settled on Sam’s shoulder. "Wait. We shouldn’t do this, here."
"He’s right. And you should get what you need for the party before we go." Kafziel mouthed the word ‘summoning’. "No sense in keeping your brother up all night so we can watch porn."
The case clicked shut in Sam’s hands. "Yeah. Yeah, of course. I think we can get most of what we need while we’re out. Just a couple things I want to get from my room, before we go."
Holy oil, charcoal, that one book with the sigil in it, the concordance… Everything else would have to wait.
"Dean? We’re taking the porn party elsewhere, so you don’t have to hear it!" Sam didn’t expect an answer from his brother, but he kept talking as he led the angels up the stairs to the door. "Don’t worry about us, we’ll be back tomorrow!"