A Two-Man, One-Angel Operation (Supernatural Rewritten)
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And So We Begin (A Pilot for a Two-Man, One-Angel Operation) by NotALemon
Fandoms: Supernatural
14 Feb 2020
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“No.” Sam wraps his arm around Gabriel's shoulders. Gabriel nestles himself against Sam's side, watching Dean closely. "Whatever you have to say, you can say it in front of him."
“Okay,” Dean says. He turns to look at them straight on, obviously not having expected this. “Um,” he begins. “Dad hasn’t been home in a few days.”
“So he’s working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He’ll stumble back sooner or later,” Sam says, though he knows that no one in the room believes that.
Dean ducks his head, thinking of how to best phrase this so he doesn’t clue Gabriel in on anything he shouldn’t know. He looks back up, directly into Sam’s eyes. “Dad’s on a hunting trip. And… he hasn’t been home in a few days.”
Sam breathes out his nose, face deadpan. Gabriel looks at Sam, not as confused as he is solemn and understanding.
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Jess answers the door in a cropped Smurfs shirt and sweatpants, hair pulled back. She’d probably been studying, since she’s way too awake to have just been woken up. Sam has half a mind to tease her about how she should be asleep at this hour, but this isn't the time for that. “Sam? Gabe? Who’s this? What’s… going on?”
Sam rubs the back of his neck. “This is my brother, Dean. Um, something happened. Can we come in?”
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“I dunno. But the way I see it, Dad’s givin’ us a job to do, and I intend to do it.” Dean taps the front of John’s journal before putting it back into his pocket.
Sam looks down at his hand, covered in Gabriel’s small ones. “Dean… no. I gotta find Dad. I gotta find the son of a bitch that tried killing Gabe. It’s the only thing I can think about.”
Dean sighs. “Okay, alright, Sam. We’ll find them. I promise.” He touches Sam’s shoulder. “Listen to me. You’ve gotta prepare yourself. I mean, this search could take a while, and all that anger-- you can’t keep it burning over the long haul. It’s gonna kill you. You gotta have patience, man.”
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Dean glares at his brother. “You know what? I’m sick of this attitude. You don’t think I wanna find Dad as much as you do?”
“Yeah, I know you do, it’s just--”
“I’m the one that’s been with him every single day for the past two years, while you’ve been off to college goin’ to pep rallies and screwin’ angels. We’ll find Dad, but until then, we’re gonna kill everythin’ bad between here and there. Okay?”
Sam rolls his eyes. Wendy walks by, pretty and blonde, and distracts Dean, lost in her figure.
“Sam, finding your daddy can take… a while. You know that, right?” Gabriel asks.
Sam taps his fingers on the table. “It’s taking too long,” he mutters.
“It’s been millennia, and my siblings still haven’t found mine.”
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Sam chuckles. “Look, I appreciate your concern--”
“Oh, I’m not concerned ‘bout you,” Dean says. “It’s your--” Dean points at Sam-- “job to keep my--” Dean jabs his finger at his own chest-- “ass alive, so I need you sharp.”
“And it’s my job to keep you alive, and there only certain things that should be hard,” Gabriel says.
“Seriously, are you still havin’ nightmares ‘bout--?” Dean looks at Gabriel, then the ceiling. Subtle as ever.
Sam crosses the room, sits on the other bed with a heavy sigh, and hands a coffee to Dean. “Yeah. But it’s not just that. It’s everything. I just forgot, you know? This job.” Sam looks at the nightstand. “Man, it gets to you.”
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“I take it I was having a nightmare,” Sam says. He reaches out to touch Gabriel’s hand, scared that it would go through Gabriel’s flesh.
“Yeah, another one,” Dean says.
“Hey, at least I got some sleep,” Sam says.
“You know, sooner or later we’re gonna have to talk about this,” Dean says, testily.
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Dean chuckles. “Look, sorry ‘bout your buddy, okay? But this does not sound like our kind of problem.”
“It is our problem,” Sam says, pointing between Gabriel and himself. “They’re our friends.”
“St. Louis is four hundred miles behind us, Sam,” Dean argues. He and Sam exchange a look, long and annoyed. Dean sighs and pulls out of the gas station, fast enough to make the tires squeal, undoubtedly pissed.
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Sam shakes his head and tucks the paper with addresses in his coat. “I had ‘em check the FBI’s Missing Persons Data Bank. No John Does fitting Dad’s description. I even ran his plates for traffic violations.” As he speaks, his voice grows more and more annoyed at the fruitless attempts to find John.
“Sam, I’m tellin’ ya, I don’t think Dad wants to be found.”
Sam looks completely dejected.
Gabriel leans against Sam’s side. “You’ll find your daddy sometime,” he reassures Sam, though his promises sound a little empty to both of them.
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Sam turns and gives him a look. “Matt, how old are you?” Sam asks.
“Sixteen,” Matt says.
“Well, don’t sweat it, ‘cuz in two years, something great’s gonna happen.”
“What?”
“College.” Sam says the word like it’s the greatest thing to ever happen in the world. “You’ll be able to get out of that house and away from your dad.”
“What kind of advice is that? Kid should stick with his family,” Dean argues.
They stop walking.
“No one should ever stay in a family just ‘cuz it’s family,” Gabriel argues back. “If you gotta leave to save yourself, then you gotta make that choice.”
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“Jig’s up, sugar,” Gabriel says. He takes Sam’s hand and squeezes it reassuringly.
Sam sighs, facing Dean, a touch defensive in his posture. Dean looks at him, giving him a little head shake. Sam looks to the side. “I have these nightmares,” he begins, squeezing Gabriel’s hand back.
Dean nods. “I’ve noticed.”
“And sometimes… they come true,” Sam says.
Dean lets that sink in for a moment, a confused and somewhat disbelieving smile crossing his face. “Come again?” he asks.
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Conversation Between a Psychic, an Angel, and a Deadbeat Dad (Connective Tissue II) by NotALemon
Fandoms: Supernatural
07 Dec 2020
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“John Winchester, I could just slap you. Why won’t you go talk to your children?” Missouri asks, sharp.
“I want to,” John replies, tearful, staring at his wedding band. “You have no idea how much I wanna see ‘am. But I can’t. Not yet.” He looks at Missouri. “Not until I know the truth.”
“That’s really interesting,” Gabriel says, appearing in the doorway. “‘Cuz, uh, the way your boys see it, Johnny— can I call you Johnny?—, uh… they think you abandoned them.”
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Sam snorts, bitterly, and stands from his chair to pace the room, running a hand through his hair, then rubbing at his jaw in annoyance. “This is a job,” he snaps. “Dad wants us to work a job.”
“I mean, maybe we’ll meet up with him? Maybe he’s there?” Dean suggests, sounding like a hopeful child.
“Maybe he’s not?” Sam suggests back, shrugging. “I mean, he could be sending us there, by ourselves, to hunt this thing.”
“We have an angel,” Dean points out, closing the laptop and standing from the table. “And-- Who cares! If he wants us there, it’s good enough for me!”
“This doesn’t strike you as weird? The texting? The coordinates?” Sam looks at Dean, occasionally glancing at Gabriel.
“Sam! Dad’s tellin’ us to go somewhere, we’re goin’,” Dean snaps, obedient as always, especially when it comes to John’s orders.
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“Yellow Eyes. It’s a demon, Sam," John says.
Sam stiffens. “Yellow Eyes? How did you know?”
“I know,” John says. “Listen, Sammy. I, uh… also know what happened to Gabriel. Almost happened. I’m so sorry. I would’ve done anything to protect you from that.”
“You know where he is?” Sam asks. "And… hang on, how do you know about Gabriel?"
“Yeah, I think I’m finally closing in on him,” John says.
“Let us help. We have—”
“You can’t,” John says. “You can’t be any part of it.”
“Why not?” Sam asks.
“Listen, Sammy, that’s why I’m calling. You and your brother and your… Gabriel— you gotta stop looking for me.”
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Dean blinks, groggy and confused, and looks up. Roy stands over him, hands out from his sides, palms up, joyful. Beside and behind Roy, a tall man in a black suit with shockingly white hair and wrinkled, pale skin comes into focus, staring at Dean intensely before turning away and vanishing. Dean looks at him in shock.
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“Look, it’s terrible about her dad, but it kinda sounds like a standard car accident. I’m not seeing how it fits with what we do. Which, by the way, how does she know what we do?” Sam asks.
Dean looks shifty and uncomfortable. The pieces click together for Sam.
“You told her,” he accuses. “You told her the secret! Our big family rule number one. We do what we do and we shut up about it.” The more Sam talks, the bitchier he gets. “For a year, I do nothing but lie to Gabriel, and you go out with this chick in Ohio a couple’a times and you tell her everything?”
“Yeah. Looks like,” Dean mutters, blankly staring at the road ahead and laying harder on the gas.
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“Sammy, relax,” Dean says. “I’m sure it’s just a nightmare. Y’know, a normal, everyday, naked-in-class, nightmare. This license plate, it won’t check out. You’ll see.”
“I sleep next to Sam every night,” Gabriel says. “I know his dreams. This? This isn’t it.”
“It felt different, Dean,” Sam argues. “Real. Like when I dreamt about our old house. And Gabriel.”
“Yeah, that makes sense,” Dean says, stressing his syllables. “You’re dreamin’ about our house, your boyfriend. This guy in your dream, you ever seen him before?”
“No,” Sam admits.
“No,” Dean says, making his point. “Exactly. Why would you have premonitions about some random dude in Michigan?”
“Prophetic visions don’t always make sense,” Gabriel says. “I know prophecies. Trust me.”
“I don’t know,” Sam admits to Dean.
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“Maybe this isn’t our kind of gig," Dean reasons.
“Yeah, maybe not,” Sam says. “Except for this--Dad marked the area, Dean. Possible hunting grounds of a phantom attacker,” Sam continues.
“Why would he even do that?” Dean asks. He swipes one of the bottles from the table and takes a sip.
“Turns out, he found an entire assload of local folklore ‘bout some sorta dark freak that comes out at night. Grabs people, then poof!, he’s gone,” Gabriel says.
“He found this, too--this county has more missing persons per capita than anywhere else in the state,” Sam says.
“That is weird,” Dean says.
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“So, a killer walks in and outta the apartment—no weapons, no prints, nothin’,” he says, turning on the meter. He and Sam are on the ground by the toolbox, getting out everything they need.
“I’m tellin’ ya, the minute I found that article, I knew this was our kinda gig,” Sam says.
The EMF meter beeps frantically.
“I think I agree with you,” Dean says.
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“Alright. About a month or two ago, this group of kids goes poking around in this local haunted house—”
“What kind of poking around?” Gabriel asks suggestively. He gives Sam a look.
“Haunted by what?” Dean asks, more aggressively. He glares at Gabriel in the rearview. Gabriel flips him off
“Apparently, a pretty misogynistic spirit. Legend goes, it takes girls, and strings them up in the rafters,” Sam explains smoothly, not acknowledging Gabriel. “Anyway, this group of kids see this dead girl hanging in the cellar.”
“Anybody ID the corpse?” Dean goes about the situation logically.
“Well, that’s the thing. By the time the cops got there the body was gone.”
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If Dad’s sending us hunting for something, I don’t know what,” Sam says, frustrated.
“Well, maybe he’s going to meet us there,” Dean offers up, optimistically.
Gabriel’s kind of an expert when it comes to missing fathers. In fact, he might say that he’s the number one champ—what, ten thousand or so years in the running? He’s seen every stage of father-grief there is. Experienced all of them, too. He knows when someone has false hope.
It’s just that he’s at the point in his father-grief that he’s done mocking others for how they’re handling theirs. He has a couple of siblings just like Dean.
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