WARNING: general Supernatural spoilers
The boys arrived at the crime scene, happy to return to their jeans and jackets. In broad daylight, the alleyway didn’t look much like the site of a murder.
Dean kneeled on the pavement, observing the markers already set by forensics. There wasn’t much visible evidence aside from a short spray of dried blood and some scorching on the sidewalk.
Sam stood a few feet away, talking with the police on his cell. “The department says that the DNA doesn’t match anything in their data base.”
Dean looked up at him from his position on the ground. “So what? All that means it that whoever did this hasn’t ever been arrested.”
Sam shrugged and looked at where the markers indicated the vic had fallen to the ground. He squinted as something caught his eye. “What’s that?” He asked, pointing at the ground.
“What? I don’t see anything.”
“That right there, that powder.” Sam insisted, walking closer.
Dean took another look and swiped his finger over the substance. He raised it to his nose and sniffed hesitantly.
“Sulfur.” He said grimly.
“Oh, come on, not this again. Demons? Really?”
“Hey, I don’t pick the monsters.” Dean chuckled. “At least this one isn’t on a plane.”
“We just don’t have much experience here. Maybe we should call another hunter, someone who deals with demons more.”
“C’mon, Sammy! Where’s your sense of adventure? It’ll be fun.”
Sam snorted. “Sure, whatever.”
Dean took a step back and looked at the crime scene as a whole. “So what do we know, here?”
“Well, for starters, I think it’s safe to assume that the victim we looked at in the morgue was the demon. The pattern of sulfur is dusted around his body’s markers. Also, what doesn’t die or heal for weeks after getting shot?”
“Not an oh-so-innocent human.” Dean answered.
“But the fact that vic number one shot the demon at the time of his death means that the demon is the person who killed vic number one.”
Sam nodded. “So I’d say that it’s safe to assume the demon also killed vics number two, three, and four. They all followed the same pattern, prolonged torture and a crushed skull.”
Dean sat for a moment, confused. “Then who the hell killed the demon?!”
You sat on the couch, head in your hands, and tried to remember how everything had come to this.
Your mother died the same night she dropped the bomb about your father being part of the heavenly host. You were alone that day, at 18 years old. No family to speak of, no purpose or direction. Alone.
Well, maybe not completely alone. There was Gabe. Strange as he seemed, you knew that he was important from the very beginning.
Your mother had used some of her final moments to explain to you that he was someone you could trust, confide in, even. He would protect you in her absence.
You had met him shortly after the last guest left your mother’s funeral.
It had been a rather ordinary affair. The service was short and proceeded with the expected formalities. You said a few words that meant very little to anyone but yourself, the pastor prayed, the room breathed a quiet ‘amen’, and it was done.
Once you were alone in the church, the first thing you did was shut the casket’s lid. You then retrieved a single sunflower from your bag and tucked it among the white roses and pale lilies arranged near the base of the casket.
“Why a sunflower?” a voice behind you asked.
You turned to look at the newcomer. He was older than you, maybe his late twenties, with light brown hair and amber eyes. However, what caught your attention was not the openness in his expression or the gentleness to his voice.
It was his clothes.
This guy had intruded on a private funeral viewing in flip-flops, jeans, and a T-shirt.
You looked at him strangely. “They were her favorite.” You finally answered.
The man smiled and snapped his fingers. “Look again.”
You quirked and eyebrow and turned back to look at the arrangement, gasping at what you saw.
The entire front of the church was stuffed with gorgeous, blooming sunflowers. They seemed to crowd the stage, piling over one another. Your mother’s coffin was pleasantly tucked into the vibrant, yellow blooms. It looked quaint and almost happy.
“How did you do that?” You exclaimed, turning back to the stranger.
He chuckled. “I’m an angel.”
You looked him up and down again once more. “You don’t look like an angel.”
“There aren’t many angels who do.”
Finally your brain put two and two together.
“You’re Gabriel!” You all but shouted.
His smile widened. “Call me Gabe.”
You approached him apprehensively. “So you’re really an angel?” You asked doubtfully.
“In the flesh.” He smirked, as if finding humor in a private joke.
You stopped in front of him. He was handsome, but a bit odd. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
“Yeah, I would have come to the service, but I figured you’d need a moment alone. All of those strangers didn’t exactly allow for honest mourning.”
“Thanks.” You smiled. “There was one other person I was looking for. Do you...” You trailed off, toeing a crack in the dark tile with your dress shoe. “It’s just, I thought my father might have come by. My mom already explained that he didn’t want anything to do with me, but… Maybe it’s silly, but I thought he might come to, I don’t know, pay his respects.”
“I don’t think you’re dad would ever come within a hundred light-years of earth if he had it his way.”
“Yeah, I kind of figured.”
The angel shrugged. “Sorry, kid. His loss.”
“Did you at least know him?” You asked hopefully.
Gabe shook his head.
“At least tell me his name… Please.”
“Look, kid, I ain’t gonna sugar coat it. Your dad doesn’t even know you’re alive. If he did, well, that’d be one more problem to add to the 99 you already got. Capiche?”
You shrugged. “Fair enough, my mom basically said the same thing.”
You smiled and held out a hand. “I don’t think I actually introduced myself. My name is ______.”
Gabe rolled his eyes, but smirked and shook your hand anyway. “I know.”
You sighed and rose from the couch, trying to ignore the pain that flared in your shoulder. You would need to run away again. You’d pack up some essentials and find another town. Something farther this time. More remote.
You often wondered how your life had ended up the way it did. What, with an angel fully willing to stay by your side and protect you. You knew it was your fault, though. It was all your fault.
You lived in your mother’s house for a while. The first few months were hard. You worked part time jobs and went to school for a nursing license. One evening, you were extremely exhausted, and you still needed to sort through the hospital bills you knew you couldn’t pay, all left over from your mothers last few years in the hospital.
Finally, you put your head in your hands and broke down sobbing.
“Gabe.” You whimpered quietly, wanting desperately to talk to your friend.
In a familiar flutter of wings, your angel appeared.
Upon seeing the state you were in, he rushed to your side. Once he succeeded in getting your hands away from your face, he didn’t get a very good look at your teary eyes, seeing as you immediately latched onto him, crying into his chest.
“Hey, okay, sugar. C’mon, you gotta tell me what’s wrong.”
You pulled away, hiccoughing and fisting away tears, You looked up at Gabe and sniffled.
When he took in your puffy eyes and trembling mouth, his heart broke. It was the first time he’d seen you cry. He pulled you back into his arms and sighed.
“Oh, for the love of- just tell me what’s wrong and I’ll fix it.” He sighed. How could you have him so completely wrapped around your finger?
You shook your head. “I don’t think that you can help. It’s just, I miss her. I miss her so much, Gabe. Everything is too much; I can’t do it alone.”
“You’re not alone. You’ve got me, remember?”
“Now,” He began, and clapped his hands together. “How can I help?”
That evening consisted mainly of Gabe snapping away your money problems and trying his absolute best to make you laugh. It was the first time since your mother died that you felt close to someone again. You felt like everything would be alright.
You shook your head at the memory. Yes, you probably needed help at the moment, but you certainly weren’t going to pray for Gabe and expect him to snap all of your troubles away. Those days were long gone, and you didn’t want a repeat of last time.
Not long afterwards, you’d met a guy. His name was Thomas. He was… Nice. Normal. And just then, normal was a good thing.
Gabe didn’t like him. The angel kept trying to convince you that he was dangerous or that you were a danger to him, anything to make you stop seeing him. However, you could tell that something else was bothering him.
When you told Gabe that you and Thomas were moving in together, the angel was furious. He shouted and threatened and basically pitched an angel sized fit that resulted in a city-wide blackout.
But in the end, he left you.
You moved in with Thomas.
You continued packing, stuffing some T-shirts into a duffle-bag. You wished you had listened to him. So many things could have been avoided if you had just listened to your friend.
About a year into your new relationship, and all was well. You liked Thomas, but you couldn’t say that you loved him. He wasn’t worth losing Gabe. Sometimes you were angry at yourself for letting your temper get the better of you, and sometimes you blamed Gabe for being so insufferably childish.
You had prayed to Gabe many times. You always told him that you wanted to talk it over with him. See if you could still be friends.
He never showed.
Not until Thomas tried to kill you.
You arrived home one evening from your classes at the local college. Normally, Thomas greeted you at the door or at least yelled a hello from some other area of your shared apartment, but it was too quiet.
You walked into the dark kitchen, and felt slightly silly for being so nervous. There was Thomas, standing next to the counter, his back facing you.
“Thomas!” You gasped in surprise. “There you are. I thought you-“
“Tommy isn’t here right now.” Your boyfriend turned around, flashing beetle black eyes. “But I can take a message.”
You backed away. “What’s wrong with you? What happened to your eyes?”
“I’m not your boyfriend, you stupid nephilim.” The thing snarled.
You reached behind you, feeling around for the knife-holder you knew was there until your fingers closed around the wooden handle of a steak knife. “What did you do with Thomas?”
The monster smiled and ignored your question. “There’s a price on your head, one that’s worth your weight in souls, and I’m here to collect. Just your head, though. Everything else will have to go.”
The creature leapt onto you with a cackle, black eyes glittering, hands extended like claws.
You reacted, driving the knife into the thing’s chest. You stepped away as it just stood there, seeming mildly surprised, before it began to laugh. It roared with laughter, slapping the counter top as if you stabbing it were just the funniest thing in the world.
“You really don’t know a damned thing, do you? Well, it was a good try.” It reached a hand out, catching you by the throat, and squeezed.
You struggled, kicking your legs in the air, trying to pry its hand off your neck. You managed to get one word out.
Before you could finish, the thing tightened its grasp, choking off the rest of your prayer.
It took him a moment. You thought he wouldn’t come like so many times before, but suddenly, the room began to get brighter. The glow strengthened quickly until the room was engulfed in white light. It was like the sun had risen just in front of your refrigerator.
The monster screamed and dropped you to the ground. It frantically wound its arms around its face in an attempt to block out the brightness.
You turned your eyes back to the source. It was Gabe. He stood directly in the center of the light. No, he was the light.
The room became brighter, and the monster screamed louder, but you remained unharmed.
Strange forms began to emerge from the angel, winding around him and filling the space. There were faces, both human and animal. They filled the area, morphing, fading, appearing, and disappearing. They were insubstantial, as if a great creature were trying to force itself into too small a space.
You fell to your knees and hid your face. He was awesome and beautiful and… Terrifying.
All at once, the room was dim again. Then it was just you, the angel, and the charred remains of your boyfriend.
Gabriel knelt before you. You didn’t move, opting to stare at the floor, instead. He gently pulled your shaking body to its feet.
“What’s the matter, kiddo? Can’t even spare an old friend a smile?”
You still couldn’t look him in the eye. “Th-there was something else in here. It was like you changed.”
Gabriel let his hands drop to his side, dumbfounded. “You saw me?”
“That was you ?!”
The angel nodded. “Cat’s outta the bag. We angels have true forms. Well, what you saw was just a sample. I couldn’t fit one sixteenth of my true from into this shack.”
You looked to the left at what used to be Thomas and felt your stomach lurch. You leaned over the sink and vomited.
You spat into the sink. “Why did you kill him?”
Gabriel’s eyes softened. “________, I’m sorry, but he was already gone.”
You finally met the angels gaze. You were angry, confused, scared. It all showed in your eyes. Gabriel reached a hand towards you, but seemed to think better of it.
“Listen, there’s going to be more where that came from,” he said, jerking his thumb at the body, “, and I need to get you out of here before the cavalry arrives.”
You nodded. “What are we going to do?”
“I’m going to see if there’s any more of them.” He grabbed a knife from your drawer and made a small cut on him palm. He painted a symbol on the wall with his blood, and as he did, you noticed a faint shimmer around his head in the shape of a disk. It reflected the moonlight pouring in through the window. Once the symbol was complete, a pulse ran throughout the house and the marking shimmered pale blue.
“This should keep you under the radar until I get back. Oh, and one last thing, you seeing me in the angelic equivalent of my birthday suit means that you got your mojo.”
“Your power, you can use it now. But I need you to hold off until we’re somewhere safe, or you’ll be a walking monster magnet. I can’t explain it all yet, but soon, I’ll tell you everything. Now, pack your bags. When I get back, we’re ditching this joint.”
With a ruffle of feathers, Gabriel disappeared.
You stood in your apartment, stunned. You needed to get out of here before Gabriel returned. None of it felt right. Was it a coincidence that Gabriel fought so hard to stop you moving in with Thomas, and suddenly your boyfriend tries to kill you just in time for Gabriel to kill him?
Yeah, crazy coincidence.
But how were you going to hide from an angel? He did once tell you that he couldn’t track you the same way he could track regular humans. It had to do with you having angel blood.
But there was something more, something you weren’t quite willing to admit to yourself.
You were scared of him.
You knew he was an angel. He could teleport, make objects appear out of thin air, and do amazing things, but it never really registered.
Not until his very presence sent you crashing to your knees. Not until he killed a man without lifting a finger.
He wasn’t Gabe to you anymore. He was Gabriel, a warrior of God. Something unfamiliar and dangerous.
You didn’t trust him.
You quickly packed a bag and grabbed your keys. You were going to find some answers on your own.
You lived out of your car for a while. It wasn’t easy moving from town to town, looking for work and information. You eventually discovered a network of people who found and killed supernatural creatures. They called themselves hunters.
You figured some of them would know something about angels, but when you asked, they always laughed you off. They said that angels were just like unicorns, a fairy tale (which was another huge disappointment).
So you kept searching, but no matter where you worked or went, every now and again, a black eyed monster would find you and send you packing once more.
That was how you found yourself working deep in the city at a club. Surely nothing would find you here.
As you finished packing, you considered the most recent monster. You hadn’t met many of them, and when you asked the hunters about them, you got a mix of reports about their origins. Some said that they were evil spirits possessing people; some said that they were the dead come back to life, but there was one account you found increasingly worrying.
You hoped the hunters were wrong about that.
There was nothing left to do now but find a new town and a new life. There were some days you regretted not staying with Gabriel or letting him explain himself, but you knew he’d likely stopped searching for you a long time ago.
You would never see him again.
Stopping at the door, you turned to observe your already forgotten identity, as you had so many times before.
You opened the door, ready to head back out into the world, but were jolted from your musings by the face of someone you weren’t prepared to see.