entrancelogs | OPEN | here come the night

Entry tags:

OPEN | here come the night

Who: Adam Milligan (

halfwinchester) and whoever else might be admiring Ewaymas!
Where: Around the mansion.
When: Dec. 13, anytime from late night to mid-afternoon.
Rating: G for now!
Summary: What the hell's with all this Christmas stuff? At least one newcomer is out and about looking at the changes.
The Story:

_{[Very rarely does Adam sleep through the night--or at all, if he's being honest. When the light fades and the mansion gets quiet, it's the perfect time for thoughts of his time in the pit to creep back in, and almost every night begins and ends with him sitting wide-awake until he's too tired to mount a defense. Sometimes he likes to ward away his nightmares in the bathroom. It's smaller in there, and reminds him of the times he'd hidden there when he'd been sick with the flu as a young child.

That night, he's counting spots on the ceiling of his room when the snow starts to fall, and it's the first thing that grabs Adam's attention before the noise starts. Snow? Had that been in Wonderland's weather report? By the time his curiosity wins out over his apprehension, the noises outside his door have long since stopped.

He creeps into the hallway in bare feet to see what going's on. Christmas decorations? Is it Christmas?

The mansion looks beautifully done up in the late hours of the night, and for a while Adam looks around until the pull to return to his room grows too strong. He can be found downstairs inspecting the giant Christmas tree once daylight breaks, dressed for the weather in a heavy sweater. His breakfast is an apple, which he eats while poking at ornaments on the branches.

For once, he has something to do in the mansion that isn't simply "avoid angels." It's strange enough thinking it's already December. A lot of the time it feels like he just arrived, soul broken and all.]}

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Gabriel doesn't exactly sleep. At least, normally. He's had his dose in Wonderland, thanks to being powerless a few times, but he's in full control of his Grace at the moment. Just enough to, like Adam, take a look at the Christmas decorations.

And turn up his nose, for the most part, Christmas being the inaccurate and stolen nonsense it is. Sure, he likes some aspects, like the sweets and the egg nog and the presents — and how, generally, people dial back on being douchebags for a little while. But Christmas is a reminder of his pagan past, and that makes him strangely melancholy as he sits down near the stairs to stare at a wreath.

It's on complete accident that Adam wanders by and he happens to notice.]

Can't sleep?

_{[Alone, a sudden voice is enough to startle him, but at the sight of an angel sitting out of the way in the low-lit halls... His heart slams into his ribcage, and with a stumble, he barely comes to a stop before toppling down the stairs. Here is precisely why he should know better than to leave the safety of those sigils. He can't go anywhere without meeting one of them.

He hasn't crossed paths with just any angel, either. He's one Adam knows intimately well down to his soul; Gabriel's hand prints are all over it in a way not even Michael can claim, and he's an immense part of his earliest memories from after the pit. Adam recalls enough to know that he probably wouldn't be here if not for this angel, but that isn't necessarily a good thing, as they all know.

It is a sign of power, something an angel has in spades.

Swallowing hard, Adam comes to a stop, eyes locked on Gabriel. Then he seems to remember himself and drops his gaze quickly, like Gabriel is too bright to look at. He might be a productive of suffering, but he doesn't crave it.]}

[Gabriel almost sighs, but thinks better of it. He keeps it internalized, instead. Of course he's not surprised about Adam being scared to death of angels. He knows what they did to his soul, in ways that had made Michael grumpy.

He raises both hands in mock surrender.]

Relax. I'm just, uh, eyeing the Christmas decorations.

[Not admiring. Just eyeing.]

_{[Castiel, even Michael... in the past, he'd pushed them because he'd been angry. Opened his mouth without a care and let the words fly. He hadn't cared. The anger had whited out the clear-cut knowledge of what an angel could do to him.

But this one... this one he doesn't know. A question mark. An unknown. It's not so much fear that keeps his head lowered as it is knowing that whatever tiny little island he's built to weather his mind's choppy seas could be broken in an instant by an angel who feels like its been insulted, and he's too tired for that. There's only so many times a person can build themselves back up after an angel dismantles them.

If anything, being under Michael's watch seems to make him a target, not a protected species.

He glances at Gabriel from the corner of his eye once the angel raises his hands placatingly. With or without the remark about the Christmas decorations, it would still be an odd gesture for an angel. Of course he doesn't believe the sentiment, not for an instant, but it seems like permission enough to go about existing without being blown back to the Stone Age. For the moment.]}

Okay.

_{[Human opinions aren't exactly valued, no matter how much of a throwaway comment it is.]}

Besides, I say too much and Michael will wear my guts for garters.

[He glances at the Christmas tree.]

It'd be festive, I'd give him that much.

[In the true, Pagan spirit of the evening, not the Christian one.]

Michael?

_{[Adam frowns, not understanding. That doesn't make sense. This angel's saying Michael wants to hurt him like he had Castiel? All angels bleed together in Adam's mind, but Castiel had stood out precisely because he'd been standing opposite Michael, Zachariah, and the rest of the angels who'd wanted Sam and Dean to become vessels.

The question is all Adam can think to say. As a force that's predominately only existed to make his life miserable, mention of Michael in this context calls for some kind of explanation, enough to outweigh the advantage of reticence.]}

Yeah, you know. The big guy with the flaming sword. [Gabriel says it very off-handedly, like he isn't being difficult at all.] I mean, it isn't usually a flaming sword, but this one time I did kind of hide it in a star and it took him forever to get it out.

[White-hot? Try burning so bright it could melt the snow in the Catskills.]

Who could forget.

_{[Yeah, he knows, more than he'd ever wanted to know about the big, bad boss of the angels. That doesn't explain why this particular angel is bothering to talk to him. Is this supposed to be some kind of riddle he should know how to solve? Because if it is, he's not getting it.

He looks at Gabriel, waiting for the other shoe to drop. For a sign of what he's supposed to be doing, if not minding his own business.

Sorry, Gabriel, trickster humor tends to fly over the heads of people used to Michael and Lucifer's brand of small talk. Which is to say, less small talk and more intimidation and bloodshed.]}

Edited 2013-12-23 06:02 (UTC)

[This something that Gabriel has been getting used to. It's really not his fault that only a few of his siblings actually have a decent sense of humor. And it keeps taking them away and putting angels in their place who never bothered with them. Like, say, Michael.

It's enough to make Gabriel miss the angel who had killed him.]

Yeah, well. He got touchy when I put that band-aid on your James Brown.

_{[His soul--? Adam narrows his eyes, not having forgotten the intensity of that so-called band-aid. Whatever Michael had done to his ribs hadn't hurt nearly so bad, but whatever this one had done had been more about intensity of feeling than pain.

But that's not what strikes Adam as surprising.]}

You mean Michael didn't tell you to do that?

_{[Who else would've wanted to put him through all of that so he could make a half-assed container for an archangel if not the archangel himself? Michael still thinks killing Satan is an option. He still wants Adam alive. If he'd been in Wonderland the whole time, who else would bother?

If not Michael, then why?]}

[Gabriel snorts, getting the mental image of a little kid bringing a small animal into his room and telling him to fix it, bro, fix it! That's more or less what had happened. And now, unlike the last few centuries, the archangel has been more or less actively considering his role as a family-member. If he wasn't, Castiel would have been out of luck.]

No one tells me what to do. Not any more.

[He shrugs.]

_{[There's a second's pause, but no more than that.]}

That's crap. You said it yourself, Michael gets what he wants, and I haven't seen any more portals in the ground to take care of him again. _{[He lifts his eyebrows.]} Unless you've got a thing for getting killed.

_{[He suspects this angel will understand what he's getting at, even if Adam doesn't recognize Gabriel personally from the other ones he's met.

The only way Sam, Dean, and Castiel had managed to put a gag order on Michael all those years ago had been to send him to Hell inside his vessel. Now Michael's free, the strongest of them all. If this angel really, truly thinks to stand up to Michael, he'd be roasted like barbeque chicken. Adam doesn't need to know the heavenly host very well to understand that. His certainty lends confidence to his words; he lets slip more than he'd intended to, expression hard with skepticism.

Adam can get away with not caring what Michael wants, because he's already had his helping of endless torture inside the Cage. Otherwise, avoiding a fate like that meant walking the line with Michael. Simple.]}

He didn't flay you for doing what you did. It obviously must have fit into his plans somehow.

_{[He can likewise get away with talking about himself like he's a piece of meat, because he still is. That hasn't changed. A life-sized Barbie doll for angels to play with.]}

Probably prefers you knowing how to string words together.

[Gabriel shrugs again. It's much more tense this time, because, well, Michael flaying him could happen. Just because it hasn't so far doesn't mean Gabriel thinks he's more important - or even equally important - as Daddy's little plan. This is Michael from before the Cage, and that means duty above all else. Even family.

Maybe especially family, because it's been a long time since Gabriel felt like Michael actually gave a damn about most of the Host.

On the whole, Gabriel is probably about as significant as a flea to his big brother. Maybe less. Yeah, he'd come to help during their trial with the zombies, but he hadn't exactly oozed any concern. Just exasperation. And what had he said the second he'd shown up in Wonderland? Cut it with the jokes.]

But he didn't tell me to do it, kid. He'd have done it himself if Castiel had taken you to him. Michael and I don't exactly see eye to eye.

[It goes without saying that Michael and Castiel don't, either.]

Edited 2013-12-31 00:37 (UTC)

Then what's your excuse?

_{[Not "why'd you do it?" No, that would imply the angel had done him a favor, and they both know he hadn't, not really.

All he'd done in essence was patch up a vessel and put it back out on the playing field for Michael to use as he saw fit. How else could Adam view what he and Castiel had done? They'd given him back just enough sense of self to recognize the bone-deep dismay for what it'd been the moment Michael had swooped down on him that day on the tenth floor.]}

You guys have got to realize by now that I've got nothing to do with Sam and Dean anymore.

[The beauty of this situation is that no way in Hell or Earth or Heaven is Gabriel telling one of Michael's vessels, no matter how temporary, what his real dealings in the Apocalypse were. Because yikes, does he have some self-incriminating dirt. Michael would probably throttle him if he knew exactly how that Cage was going to open when he got back home.

Minimum.]

Make what you want of it, kid. I've been trying to get along with the family members who don't want to take me out back and thrash me. Castiel's one of those people.

[Obviously, Adam doesn't want to see this as a kindness. So he's not going to waste air trying to convince him.]

_{[Adam's expression is flat and bemused, like Gabriel had tried to explain himself using terms from particle physics.

... Which, in a way, might be easier to understand than hearing an angel talk about family. What the hell do any of them know about it? At least the monsters who'd broken into their house had had a reason--they'd been out for revenge because of family. But the angels? They'd wanted to start a war over nothing. So one angel could kill another angel?

That's not family, that's just stupid. He's thinking it, even if he doesn't say it.]}

That still doesn't explain why either of you bothered.

[Gabriel agrees that it was stupid. Entirely.

Which is what got him a sword in the chest. But why would he get a break here when he never got one at home? Obey someone or die; never think for yourself.

No, thanks.]

Eh, Castiel likes people. [So does Gabriel, but whatever. This one is clearly stuck in a rut.] You go in for the whole Christmas thing?

[He gestures at the decorations, keen to get off the subject.]

_{[He narrows his eyes, even more scrutinizing at that. "Castiel likes people." It sounds almost ridiculous, way too light and casual for what's happening, but he doesn't feel like it's his place to ask too many questions about non-human entities who have nothing to do with him.

The intensity in his expression eases after a second or two. He's not as quick to jump ship without adding something else, something that comes out of his own mouth.]}

If you were trying to help fix me back then, I guess I owe you one. So thanks. For trying.

_{[His soul, his responsibility... or something like that. A favor is a favor, even if every day hurts and he has to toil under the burden of consciousness now. He owes this much.

With that said, he shrugs. First Christmas out of Hell when your entire family is dead? Kind of sucks, that's the long and short of it.]}

[He gets a shrug in response. It's not a purely ingracious shrug; it is what it is. That's life, right there. Get fixed up just to weather the beaten track again, slightly more damaged than before. That same phrase could also describe the archangel himself.]

Can't say I've glued a soul back together like that. Now I can put it on my bucket list.

[Gabriel glances up at a wiggling piece of mistletoe, several feet away.]

Like living mistletoe not animated by me. That's a new one, too.

Did you get it right?

_{[He finds himself asking without entirely meaning to. It just comes out, one of the questions he's asked himself over and over for a long while.

The angel's abilities aren't really what's been in question, it's his own soul. If it'd been put back together wrong, that might explain why he feels like some grotesque imitation of a human being. Deep down, he knows the answer, however. If Castiel and this angel had broken Michael's Barbie doll beyond fixing, Adam can guess Michael would have done worse than raise his hackles and warn them off. His soul is right, it's the unfixable parts that are the problem.

But the mention of "living" mistletoe is straight out of left field and enough to get him to transfer his gaze from the angel to the mistletoe, brow furrowed.]}

Animated?

_{[... What is that supposed to mean?]}

You tell me, kid. Don't worry, I didn't leave any scissors in when I closed you back up.

[It's not really something the archangel can gauge, beyond "that seems to be working." Working, just not well. You can only heal so much of a soul. It'll hang on, souls being the metaphysical equivalent of a Nokia phone — but it might sometimes not take calls, or send goofy texts.

That last part is far easier to answer.]

Animated. You know, moving around. One year I had some bunches around like mice on the ground. Scared some of the ladies up on chairs. This was a while ago, mind you.

_{[After a long pause where Adam does nothing but swallow, an answer still doesn't come to mind. Not one that will appease some strange angel. He shakes his head slightly in a way that could mean anything. Truthfully, he's not sure he wants someone to be straight with him about how bad the damage is. It's one thing to feel it, another to have it told to you.

Focusing on someone else's insanity gives him the luxury of avoiding going into detail about his own, and so instead of saying anything on that subject he lifts his head and inhales.]}

You use your angel powers to make plants come alive?

_{[A fair question, after an angel says something like that. How long have these angels been here?]}

[Gabriel gives the universe's most casual shrug, as a response, before following it with,]

Sometimes.

[He has to keep himself occupied somehow.]

Or I create a UFO, make a double and hit Vegas, or just about anything I want, really.

_{[Adam suspects he must look like someone who can't decide whether to treat the answer as a joke or not--a mix of hesitation and disbelief combined. But who's going to blame him? If this angel knows who he's related to and what had happened on account of the rest of the flock, then he has to know that for Michael's skin suits, jokes are a one-way ticket to having your stomach try to crawl up through your throat.

At least the way Zachariah told them. Now that angel had proved that you were taking your life into your own hands if you opened your mouth and the wrong syllable came out.]}

I guess I'm more wondering why...

_{[Maybe he's starting to get a complex for pain and suffering.]}

[He shakes his head a little. The kid really does seem to like digging for pain. But he's not going to find any here. That Gabriel will tell him, at least. There's certainly pain at the root of Gabriel's behavior, the reason he took up being a trickster to begin with. But he's not getting into that.]

Because it's funny, and I want to.

[That's it, kid. Really.]

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