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starsficSo marcicat suggested I title this story in Latin back when we thought it was going to be a totally different thing than what it is. It was originally called "Musica Humana," whereafter I couldn't continue because the title was too awesome. I finally gave up and put the story out of my misery, and in ending it I realized it was not about Sam's relationship with Gabriel at all. It's about Sam's relationship with Dean. Hence the renaming.
(This scene occurs immediately after the end of the Sky trilogy. Dean gave Cas a message for Sam, and Gabriel got it.)
Sanguine Fratres
Sam looked up. “What did you just say?”
“Going to hell,” Gabriel repeated. “Be right back.”
His eyes narrowed. “If that’s your idea of a joke, it’s not funny.”
“Actually it is,” Gabriel said, holding up one finger as if ticking off the point, “and no, it’s really not.” He tapped the second finger meaningfully.
“Are you agreeing with me or correcting me?” Sam wanted to know. He also wanted to smack Gabriel upside the head, but that wasn’t anything new and he hadn’t succumbed to the urge yet.
“I have so little reason to do either,” Gabriel mused, throwing an arm over the back of his chair as he tipped the front legs up off the floor. “But hey, that’s the message he left, and who am I to question an archangel?” A smirk appeared on his face, and he added, “Wait--don’t tell me... I’ve almost got it.”
“Dean,” Sam repeated, “went to intercept Lucifer, in heaven, and then told Castiel to tell me he was going to hell.”
“And he’ll be right back,” Gabriel said with a shrug. “So?”
Sam stood up. “Send me to Santa Fe.”
Gabriel squinted up at him, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “What do you want in Ghostville?”
“Sachiel,” Sam said, turning away. “I need to be in Santa Fe five minutes ago. Can you do that?”
She didn’t bat an eye. “Of course.”
Gabriel probably would have sent him remotely, just to be a jerk, but Sachiel went with him. Which was good, because “in Santa Fe” wasn’t much in the way of direction, and he really wanted to be closer to the library than a highway on the outskirts of town which he guessed was the last place he’d been within the city limits. Angels were kind of creepy with the whole rifling through your mind in the name of following orders thing.
“There’s a library,” Sam began, and Sachiel nodded.
When they appeared inside it, he didn’t bother to sigh. He probably should have specified outside, so they could walk in like normal people, but what could he say. He didn’t have Dean’s experience with angels.
As it turned out, no one had Dean’s experience with angels, but he wasn’t thinking about that.
The pink-haired girl with the fairy wings was sitting at one of the computers. He had no idea what she could possibly need from the internet, but hey. Maybe if they could get more supernatural beings addicted to TV Tropes, they could go back to hunting as a job instead of a lifestyle.
He spared a second to try to remember if hunting had ever been just a job, and by then Fairy Wings was looking at him. “Did you want something, Sam?”
“Hell,” he blurted out. “I want in.”
“Gate’s open on Saturday,” she said, frowning at her computer screen.
“Right now.” She knew Sarah: Sam wasn’t sure that was enough to get him any favors but he had to try. “My brother’s on the other side.”
“Your brother’s from the other side,” she corrected.
Of course she knew Dean. Everyone knew Dean.
“From heaven,” Sam said. Hard as it was to admit, he couldn’t exactly let it go. “Not hell.”
Fairy Wings shrugged. “Same difference.”
“Look,” Sam said. “I’m not trying to get a free pass. He deserves a good sock on the jaw, and I want to be the one to give it to him. So do I have to kill myself to get past the three-headed dog, or what?”
She tilted her head up at him again, and this time she almost looked interested. “You’re going to sucker punch an angel?”
“I’m gonna try.” Sam knew better than most – largely thanks to his brother – just how much damage this would do to him and how small a problem it would pose for the angel in question. This had never stopped Dean, and Sam could honestly say he understood why more every minute.
Fairy Wings had a creepy smile on her face when he blinked. He knew he blinked, because he wasn’t in the same place any more and he hadn’t seen anything change. Instead of standing inside a Santa Fe library, he found himself standing on a bridge that could have been the Golden Gate if it didn’t lack a familiar Bay shoreline to either side. And it was nighttime, which really should have tipped him off.
Of course Lucifer would conjure a hell that was the opposite of Michael’s and still exactly the same. And of course the two of them would be standing on the damn bridge, staring down at the water. Intently. Like if they ignored each other long enough they wouldn’t have an apocalypse on their hands, they wouldn’t even be here, they’d just...
Well. Like Sam knew what angels wished for. They could be playing Pooh-sticks for all he knew.
“Sam’s going to hit you.” If recognizing Lucifer’s presence had made his blood run cold, that voice made everything in him burn. For revenge. For retribution. For the justice he knew he’d never have.
“Yeah,” Dean’s voice answered. “I know.”
Sam managed to avoid clearing his throat, unclenching his fists through sheer force of will. “I’m not taking any more crap about my demon blood,” he heard himself say. “Your brother’s the devil.”
“Don’t worry, Sammy.” Dean sounded like he was smirking in the darkness. “You’re still my little bitch.”
Sam braced himself against the stupid railing, staring down at the reflections of light on the water. “You’re a fucking jerk, you know that?”
“Yeah,” Dean’s voice said. And without the wings, and the glowing, and the occasionally creepy-as-fuck blue eyes, it really just sounded like Dean. “Yeah, I figured.”
marcicat suggested I title this story in Latin back when we thought it was going to be a totally different thing than what it is. It was originally called "Musica Humana," whereafter I couldn't continue because the title was too awesome. I finally gave up and put the story out of my misery, and in ending it I realized it was not about Sam's relationship with Gabriel at all. It's about Sam's relationship with Dean. Hence the renaming. (This scene occurs immediately after the end of the Sky trilogy. Dean gave Cas a message for Sam, and Gabriel got it.)
Sam looked up. “What did you just say?”
“Going to hell,” Gabriel repeated. “Be right back.”
His eyes narrowed. “If that’s your idea of a joke, it’s not funny.”
“Actually it is,” Gabriel said, holding up one finger as if ticking off the point, “and no, it’s really not.” He tapped the second finger meaningfully.
“Are you agreeing with me or correcting me?” Sam wanted to know. He also wanted to smack Gabriel upside the head, but that wasn’t anything new and he hadn’t succumbed to the urge yet.
“I have so little reason to do either,” Gabriel mused, throwing an arm over the back of his chair as he tipped the front legs up off the floor. “But hey, that’s the message he left, and who am I to question an archangel?” A smirk appeared on his face, and he added, “Wait--don’t tell me... I’ve almost got it.”
“Dean,” Sam repeated, “went to intercept Lucifer, in heaven, and then told Castiel to tell me he was going to hell.”
“And he’ll be right back,” Gabriel said with a shrug. “So?”
Sam stood up. “Send me to Santa Fe.”
Gabriel squinted up at him, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “What do you want in Ghostville?”
“Sachiel,” Sam said, turning away. “I need to be in Santa Fe five minutes ago. Can you do that?”
She didn’t bat an eye. “Of course.”
Gabriel probably would have sent him remotely, just to be a jerk, but Sachiel went with him. Which was good, because “in Santa Fe” wasn’t much in the way of direction, and he really wanted to be closer to the library than a highway on the outskirts of town which he guessed was the last place he’d been within the city limits. Angels were kind of creepy with the whole rifling through your mind in the name of following orders thing.
“There’s a library,” Sam began, and Sachiel nodded.
When they appeared inside it, he didn’t bother to sigh. He probably should have specified outside, so they could walk in like normal people, but what could he say. He didn’t have Dean’s experience with angels.
As it turned out, no one had Dean’s experience with angels, but he wasn’t thinking about that.
The pink-haired girl with the fairy wings was sitting at one of the computers. He had no idea what she could possibly need from the internet, but hey. Maybe if they could get more supernatural beings addicted to TV Tropes, they could go back to hunting as a job instead of a lifestyle.
He spared a second to try to remember if hunting had ever been just a job, and by then Fairy Wings was looking at him. “Did you want something, Sam?”
“Hell,” he blurted out. “I want in.”
“Gate’s open on Saturday,” she said, frowning at her computer screen.
“Right now.” She knew Sarah: Sam wasn’t sure that was enough to get him any favors but he had to try. “My brother’s on the other side.”
“Your brother’s from the other side,” she corrected.
Of course she knew Dean. Everyone knew Dean.
“From heaven,” Sam said. Hard as it was to admit, he couldn’t exactly let it go. “Not hell.”
Fairy Wings shrugged. “Same difference.”
“Look,” Sam said. “I’m not trying to get a free pass. He deserves a good sock on the jaw, and I want to be the one to give it to him. So do I have to kill myself to get past the three-headed dog, or what?”
She tilted her head up at him again, and this time she almost looked interested. “You’re going to sucker punch an angel?”
“I’m gonna try.” Sam knew better than most – largely thanks to his brother – just how much damage this would do to him and how small a problem it would pose for the angel in question. This had never stopped Dean, and Sam could honestly say he understood why more every minute.
Fairy Wings had a creepy smile on her face when he blinked. He knew he blinked, because he wasn’t in the same place any more and he hadn’t seen anything change. Instead of standing inside a Santa Fe library, he found himself standing on a bridge that could have been the Golden Gate if it didn’t lack a familiar Bay shoreline to either side. And it was nighttime, which really should have tipped him off.
Of course Lucifer would conjure a hell that was the opposite of Michael’s and still exactly the same. And of course the two of them would be standing on the damn bridge, staring down at the water. Intently. Like if they ignored each other long enough they wouldn’t have an apocalypse on their hands, they wouldn’t even be here, they’d just...
Well. Like Sam knew what angels wished for. They could be playing Pooh-sticks for all he knew.
“Sam’s going to hit you.” If recognizing Lucifer’s presence had made his blood run cold, that voice made everything in him burn. For revenge. For retribution. For the justice he knew he’d never have.
“Yeah,” Dean’s voice answered. “I know.”
Sam managed to avoid clearing his throat, unclenching his fists through sheer force of will. “I’m not taking any more crap about my demon blood,” he heard himself say. “Your brother’s the devil.”
“Don’t worry, Sammy.” Dean sounded like he was smirking in the darkness. “You’re still my little bitch.”
Sam braced himself against the stupid railing, staring down at the reflections of light on the water. “You’re a fucking jerk, you know that?”
“Yeah,” Dean’s voice said. And without the wings, and the glowing, and the occasionally creepy-as-fuck blue eyes, it really just sounded like Dean. “Yeah, I figured.”