thequeervet:

It was a cold and quiet night; the kind of night that most
people shut themselves up inside and stayed where it was warm. Heaters were
turned up, movies put on, and people snuggled down underneath their blankets as
they watched the threat of more snow loom on the horizon. The only people out were
those that were on their way home – and one lone figure walking down the side
of the street.

The man walking wasn’t one that would typically draw the
eye. Golden-brown hair was left loose, blowing around his face in the breeze.
He wasn’t tall, or wide, or particularly noteworthy. Which was fine. That was
exactly how he wanted it. The last thing he wanted was to draw eyes his way.

Silent feet left no prints in the already fallen snow as the
man turned at the street corner. Up in the distance, the sign for a motel
became clear. That was their destination.

There was no one around to see as the man walked up to the motel,
or as he bypassed almost every single door until he’d made his way to the one
on the very end. For a brief moment, if someone had looked out their window,
they might’ve seen the figure pause in front of the door with a hand on the
doorknob. Then the wind blew, the first bit of snow started to swirl through
the air, and the figure was gone.

The man hadn’t simply vanished, though. He appeared on the
other side of the door inside of the darkened motel room. A quick sweep with
golden eyes showed the whole room locked down tight. On one bed lay an adult
male, sound asleep, with a young boy curled up against him. A shotgun sat half
under the edge of the bed in easy reach of the man’s hand. Salt marked the
front door and the windows. It clearly marked this as the room of a hunter. A
new one, judging by the lack of some wards, but a hunter nonetheless. It made
the man – being – smirk.

The two on the bed weren’t the ones that he was here for,
though. No, it was the other figure in the room. The tiny little boy lying
inside the motel issued crib.

There wasn’t a sound in the room as he strolled right up to
the crib side. There, he paused, hands stuffed down into his pockets as the
being once known as the archangel Gabriel stared down at the boy whose call he’d
felt from the moment of his birth – the one who was supposed to be his charge.

Inside of his head, he felt a soft hum, the sound of the
other occupant of his vessel waking up enough to stare down through his eyes
with him. He’s tiny. But that soul! I
don’t think I’ve ever seen one so bright!

Loki, the being with which Gabriel shared this vessel, the
one he’d made a deal with that kept them both safe, wasn’t lying. The soul of
Samuel Winchester shone brighter than any other soul that Gabriel could
remember seeing. Even at just shy of a year old, the little boy was so bright.
Not even the hint of demon blood staining the edges could mar him completely. But
it made sense, didn’t it, that his soul would be this bright? Samuel Winchester
wasn’t just any boy. No – he had a
destiny. One that had marked him long before his birth.

Dad must be playing some
kind of cruel joke here. Why the hell would he give me a Charge meant to be
Lucifer’s VESSEL?

He felt the mental equivalent of a shrug. Who
knows. I’ve always said the guy’s even crazier than Odin – and that’s saying something.
What’re you going to do?

I don’t know.

Right. This time, Loki scoffed at him. Sure you don’t. That’s why we’re
here, because you’re unsure about what you want to do. You wish to claim the
boy.

Gabriel wanted to be the one to scoff this time. He really
did. He just… he found that he couldn’t quite manage it. Instead, he was
leaning forward, arms coming to rest folded over the edge of the crib. Never
once did he take his eyes off the boy sleeping peacefully in front of him. What would be the point? I can’t save him.

Not with that attitude.

Not with any attitude. He’s got a destiny bigger than
us, Loki. There’s no point in this. Why did that thought hurt so much?
Gabriel’s grace ached to reach out and mark the boy that was meant to be his.
His to care for, his to protect, his to guide. Very rarely were archangels
given Charges. Those were usually left to seraphs – the Guardians. For a soul
to be given to the care of an archangel was something much bigger. It meant
that soul was important. Those souls required much more care.

That was what Samuel was supposed to be – and what Gabriel couldn’t
give him.

He felt pagan power push up and pulse inside of him. Loki
made unhappy noises at him. So your damning him because you’re afraid of
what his future holds?

He has no future,
Gabriel shot back fiercely. Except to die
holding my brother.

Well, to borrow a human saying – fuck that!

The pagan power pushed up inside of them and Gabriel was too
stunned to do anything to stop it as Loki took control of their vessel. He shoved
the archangel backwards just long enough to reach out with their hand, with his
power, and press his fingers against Samuel’s bicep. There was a flare of dark,
golden light, and for one brief moment the image of a snake appeared to move
around it until it coiled there perfectly and sank down into his skin.

By the time Gabriel regained control enough to push Loki
back once more, it was too late.

The mark showed bright to any who had the power to see on
the young boy’s arm. In their shared mind, Gabriel could feel Loki’s smugness. What have you done? Gabriel demanded. Dammit, Loki! You have no idea what you’ve
done!

I took what you were too afraid to. Loki replied without any
fear or hesitance.

And marked him for
everyone to see!

Mm. Too bad there’s not a way to hide my mark or anything like that. I
guess he’ll just have to go around bearing the mark of a pagan on his arm. Poor
kid.

A growl slipped past Gabriel’s lips. He felt the others in
the room stir in response and waved a hand absently their way to keep them
asleep. He wasn’t an idiot – he knew exactly what Loki was trying to do here.
The bastard had left Gabriel with only one choice; his grace was screaming at
him to keep the boy safe, and what Loki had done had protected him in some ways
while damning him in others. There was no way that Gabriel could hold out. No
way he could resist.

I hate you,
Gabriel thought loudly. Then he reached his hand out, once more in control, and
laid it over the boy’s arm.

This time the light that flared was bright. The light of an
archangel.

When Gabriel drew his hand away there showed, for one brief
moment, the burn of a golden feather twined round the snake. Then their power
combined and drew under his skin out of sight of humans and magical beings
alike.

There was no turning back now. For better or worse, they had
claimed this boy with all parts of them. So
be it.

So be it, Loki echoed.

Ooohhh…I want more of this….so intrigued…