Title: The Dead Man’s Game: Faith and Twinkies
Characters: Sam Winchester ♂, Castiel ♂, Kafziel (OC) ♂, Gabriel ♂
Rating: T" width="32px" /> (L2 N0 S0 V2 D0)
Warnings: Expletives, discussion of past murder, blasphemy, mentions of porn, vaguely cracky
Notes: Absolutely anything I say about this chapter will be a spoiler… but, so are the tags! Fuckit. Summoning Gabriel out of Casa Erotica 14 may not be the best idea Sam’s ever had, but it works. Bonus points to anyone who recognises the summoning I used. Which I seriously doubt anyone will… Keep in mind I didn’t proof this at all, so there’s pretty much guaranteed to be typos and stupid-ass continuity errors.
They settled into some tourist dive, eight states from where they’d started, and not in a straight line. Being the most non-descript of the three of them, Castiel had checked them in. Within minutes, the walls were covered in sigils drawn in blood and charcoal, and salt and holy oil lined the windows and doors. If they were right, they couldn’t afford to be found.
Sam sat at the table with a notepad, his laptop, and two books, making a list. "Sugar," he said, looking at the two angels. "Turkish delight, twinkies, halva, Snickers? The sweeter the better. You know what he likes. You probably know better than I do. Also, licorice flowers, purple dianthus, and … devil’s trumpet. That’s an unfortunate name for a plant. Silver bowl, because I forgot it. And… I think that’s it."
He tore off the page and held it out to Castiel. "This is not one of the best ideas I’ve ever had, and I know it."
"You may know it, but I don’t. Have faith, Sam." Castiel took the list and vanished with a flutter of wings.
"Faith is what got us into this mess," Sam sighed, rubbing the DVD case with his thumbs.
"No, doubting yourself is what got you into this mess. Faith is what got you out of a few things, and love got you out of the rest. On the other hand, love got you into more things than any of us want to talk about, so that’s something to take in moderation." Kafziel laughed under his breath. "Not that I think love is something that can be done in moderation. So, try faith for a while. You’re usually pretty good at it."
"That was before," Sam started, but Castiel flashed back in, with a flutter of feathers.
"I believe this is everything you requested." Castiel held out his arms, bags dangling from them, and Sam unpacked.
"Ok, the two of you, make potpourri out of the flowers. I have to etch this bowl." Sam unfolded his knife, but Kafziel stopped him.
"Let’s not do that. Show me what needs to go on the bowl, you draw the circle, and he’ll deal with the flowers. I don’t want you ruining a good knife." Or your hand.
With a shrug, Sam handed over the next sheet from the pad — Gabriel’s sigil with some amplification and binding marks. Taking the charcoal, he sank to his knees and started to sketch on the motel carpet, which was barely deeper than office carpet, and took the charcoal well. A few more minutes saw everything arranged. Flowers in the bowl, in the centre of the circle, splashed with charcoal and holy oil. Candles lit.
Sam took a deep breath and handed the DVD case to Kafziel. "Put it in. It’s time."
The intro played, just as it had once before, and as expected Gabriel appeared to give them the bad news they’d already heard once. Dropping a match into the bowl, Sam began to recite.
"Invoco, conjuro, et præcipio tibi, O Gabriel, et appareat visibiliter, et ostende te ante hunc circulum, ad me." Sam’s eyes slid shut, and he tried to remember those very few times when he actually liked Gabriel.
The television flickered and brightened, as Sam continued to recite, and flashes of colour danced above the flame, like a station almost coming in.
"In nomine Anaphaxeton, quæ Aaron audissi et locutus est, et qui prodest quod majorem sapientiæ; in nomine Zabaoth, quæ Moys locutus est et flumina factus est sanguis," Sam rambled on, reciting from memory, as much as possible, and keeping his eyes on the page, when he couldn’t.
"Hiya, Samsquatch. Miss me?"
Sam kept his eyes on the page.
"Jibril! Don’t distract him!" Kafziel hissed.
And that was a flavour he hadn’t been called in a dog’s age. Gabriel let his blade slide into his hand. "What if I don’t want to come back, just yet?"
"It’s not about coming back or not coming back. It’s about how many pieces you come back in! Shut up! He’s almost done!"
Sam stopped speaking and looked up, at last, to the trickster towering strangely over him, angel blade in one hand.
"Who are you?" Gabriel demanded, tossing Kafziel against a wall, with a flick of his wrist.
"Captain, I know you cannot remember me. I bore your standard, before we left. Hizkiel and I were your hands." Kafziel didn’t offer his name. He knew it wouldn’t help. "You didn’t fall. You threw yourself down, and we went with you. I took our names and faces from you, to protect us all. They were coming for us, because they thought we sided with Lucifer. That you remember. I know you remember that."
"Let’s say, for a tenth of a second, that I believe you at all. How did you remove my memories?" Gabriel thought he had an excellent point.
"You let me do it. Look at me. Look through me. You of all angels should be able to tell I belonged to you, once." Kafziel suggested nothing about the nature of that apparently obvious ownership. Gabriel would either see it or he wouldn’t, and if he didn’t see it, he’d see an awful lot of Castiel, who he did remember.
"What have you been doing?" Gabriel’s golden eyes danced over Kafziel, impressed and somewhat horrified.
"Me," came a voice from behind him, and Gabriel turned to find Castiel.
"Castiel! Little brother…" Gabriel tossed an arm around the little angel’s shoulders. "What do you mean, ‘you’? You and him…?" There was something of an explanatory hand gesture, or as close as he could manage with a blade in one hand and his other hand over Castiel’s shoulder.
Sam just nodded vigorously in their direction, with a pained look on his face.
"I have it on tape." Sam did not sound entirely thrilled with this fact.
"Jibril, you can put me down any time, now…" Kafziel muttered from the motel wall.
"Oh, sorry. But, no. Not yet." Gabriel squinted at Castiel. "Who is this guy?"
"Kafziel, angel of the death of kings. Also, apparently, one of the angels of memory." Castiel pointed to something Sam couldn’t see. "Look right there."
"Oh, shit. That is me. Why is that me?"
"He said that you gave him back his grace, in the same way he gave back mine. He said the two of you were responsible for the destruction of Damghan." Castiel looked at anything that wasn’t Gabriel.
"I remember Damghan. I just never remember what the hell I was doing in Damghan, when I should have been in this little town in Eastern Jutland." Gabriel took in the room. "I have a suspicion this explains everything, without explaining anything at all. Is that a box of twinkies?"
Sam opened the box and tossed one to Gabriel, who lanced it with his angel blade and tore the wrapper off with his teeth. "Those were my idea. I told Castiel to get whatever he thought you’d like, so there’s … I don’t even know. Probably some chocolate around here, somewhere. Gummy worms, cupcakes, what the fuck is this—?"
"The violet pastilles are mine. They are a peace offering, for when we get home." Castiel was once again looking intently at the floor.
Sam blinked. "Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know."
"Mmmmfgh." Gabriel leaned heavily on Castiel, making orgasmic noises around his mouthful of cake and crème. "Marry me, Samsquatch. When we get out of here, just marry me. You dragged me back from … let’s not even talk about that, and you brought me twinkies. I’m in love. It’ll last at least fifteen minutes."
"Yeah, I think I’ll just stay on this side of the room, until you’re done. No offence, but you did kill my brother a couple hundred times."
"I unkilled him, too!" Gabriel protested. "Besides, it was all for you, like I said at the time."
"Yeah, well, all the same, not really marriage material, Gabe. I prefer people who didn’t kill my brother, even if that number keeps getting smaller."
"You should probably tell him about Dean," Kafziel suggested.
"You should probably give back his memories!" Sam snapped back.
"I’m stuck to the wall. What’s your excuse?"
"I really think it’s a visual thing. I mean, you have to see him to really get that it’s ok. I mean, it’s not ok. Not at all, but it’s a lot less not ok than it could be. He’s still him. Mostly." Sam’s mouth snapped shut.
"What happened to Dean?" Gabriel ran out of twinkie.
"I’ll tell you later. He’s not dead. Again." Sam threw another twinkie. "Wait, when was the last time I saw you? That might be again again. Still, he’s not dead. That’s the important part."
"Why do I not believe you?"
"Shut up and eat your twinkies, Gabe. I’m not talking about it."
"You should probably let Kafziel down. You’re not in any shape to be throwing what little power you have around pointlessly." Castiel actually managed to sound concerned. He’d been working on that.
"For the record, I have a box of twinkies. I could still kick both your asses."
"We’re not the ones you need to worry about. And we did just sort of paint a giant blinking arrow on this place, what with the summoning and all." Sam started to pack things up. "We should probably get out of here before anything decides to investigate."
"That is the sound of a man talking sense," Gabriel decided, letting Kafziel drop to the floor. "Where are we going?"
"Cas is taking you. Kaz and I are taking the gear. We’ll meet you there. I don’t want to talk too much here, and we didn’t want to do this, where we’re going." Having condensed most of what needed to come with them down to two bags, Sam squeezed Gabriel’s shoulder. "Thanks for not being dead."
"Any time!" Gabriel leaned back as Castiel’s arms wrapped around him. With a flutter, they were gone.
"Grab a bag. We have to get back before they do." Handing a bag to Kafziel, Sam took his hand. "You know what’s going to happen if they land first."