#archafic

“A dark force is brewing just beyond humanities reach. Behind the scenes, Crowley plots something sinister, unbeknownst to the Winchester brothers. Gabriel had been in hiding, he didnt expect to believe that anyone knew he was alive, and yet, here he was, front and centre. Gabriel was now nothing more than trapped and seemingly powerless, and swept up with him was that stupid girl, who had so accidentally been thrown in his world of angelic crazy.”

Word Count: 1500+ per chapter

MASTERLIST / ABOUT

FIRST / PREVIOUS / NEXT

(HEADER TO BE ADDED)

CHAPTER 8: SLEEP

There they stood, two specs on the face of planet earth, minuscule against the unbelievable expanse of Mountain range that cloaked the horizon. It truly was a spectacle to behold, as if Mother Nature herself had organised the night sky to be as absolutely perfect as it possibly could be, and only to complement that particular moment, just for Wren and Gabriel. To the fallen archangel, it felt almost like his father was mocking him from the sky above with its immaculate perfection at that moment, a sort of “I told you so.” He didn't think much on this though, Gabriel didn't want to be reminded of home anymore. He desperately wanted to see things differently, just to forget almost everything that had ever happened since the dawn of his creation. Try as he might, something in the back his mind still tugged, something was always telling Gabriel that he was being watched over, it was almost uncomfortable. He didn’t enjoy the sense of constantly being watched, especially not when he knew it was his father watching. Even after his fathers disappeared, he never felt truly free of him. How Gabriel envied the human race sometimes, he wished very much to posses that same ignorance they unknowingly had. Even now, where he stood as basically human, Gabriel was still drowning in the unnerving sense that his father was watching and judging his every action. He quickly let the thought escape to the back of his mind again, it hurt to think on it for too long.

‘Ya’ know, I’ve never seen anything like this before. The sky is so pretty here.’ Said Wren, her tone wishful against the cold, fog rolling off her breath as she spoke. ‘Sure.’ Gabriel replied shortly, he didn't much want to think about the marvel before his eyes.   Wren looked at Gabe where he stood, his locks sullen and greasy after the amount of running and walking the two had done, his burgundy red button up awkwardly askew around his throat. She looked closely at it, close enough that she could make out the stain of blood red blended into it. ‘Did they stab you in the neck?’ she asked. ‘What?’ ‘Those guys back there. How bad did they hurt you before, you know, the light?’ ‘The Demons?’ Gabriel asked, he knew Wren was holding back from calling them as such. ‘They didn’t get me too bad, I woulda’ been fine, light or no light.’ He lied, if it wasn't for that last explosion of power Gabriel let loose, death, permanent this time, would have likely been fairly imminent. ‘Why is there blood all around your throat then? In my idea of things that would almost certainly lead to immediate death, being slashed across the throat is pretty certain.’ ‘Well, you did say “almost” for a reason.’ Wren felt weirdly dreamy and strangely content through this conversation, she didn't know Gabe at all, but being uncaring was not something she was known for. Perhaps she was tired, too tired to act hostile toward him at the moment? Wren took one more look at the street before them, so busy and yet so quiet at the same time. The mountaintops solid, unmoving in the distance, and an extreme hustle at the bar further up the road. She breathed out, exhaling those drowsily feelings of dreaminess too. ‘Well, what are we supposed to do now? No car, no cash.’ She spoke. ‘That’s where you’re wrong, Short stack.’ Gabriel took his hand inside his pocket and pulled out a couple of hundred dollar bills. ‘I’m way ahead of ‘ya in the cash department.’ ‘You had that this whole time and you didn't tip Vi for the lift? God! You didn't even say thank you either!’ ‘Well, I didn't have it this whole time.’ ‘When did you…- you stole it? Seriously? What did Vi ever do to you for you to be such a douche?’   ‘I may be a douche, but at least I’m of high quality.’ He teased. ‘Plus, if I hadn't taken it we wouldn't have anywhere to stay for the night. There’s not a lot here either. Probably enough for one room and some food, if we’re lucky. It’s all we got, so just deal with it for now, you’re Highness.’ ‘When did you even take it? You were in the front seat with her the whole time!’ ‘Just before I got out, when your door got jammed and you had a “special moment” with that girl.’ He waved the cash around, ‘I pinched it straight from her wallet. You might be annoying as all hell, but you sure do make for a good distraction.’ he teased, a cheeky look on his face. ‘You’re a pain in my ass. I hope you know, if all of this was any different, I would be as faraway from you as possible.’ How good it felt to finally get that off her chest, Wren wasn't scared anymore, she no longer thought of Gabriel as a threat, finally she had mustered up enough courage to let loose at him a little. He may have saved her life, but that didn't make him any less of a dick. ‘Touché.’ He replied sarcastically. ‘But hey, Demons will be Demons. You’re not planning on running away from me, are you Short-stack?’ he mocked. ‘What, like I have a choice? Does it look like I know how to hot-wire a car? Why do you keep calling me that too? We’re almost the same height!’ Wren bickered back. ‘Again, emphasis on the “almost”.’ ‘Can we just go inside already? You went to such an effort to get that cash, let’s just use it before the guilt makes me want to change my mind.’ ‘Of course.’ Gabriel swaggered toward the front door of the motel, Wren closely followed. As he opened the front door, she half expected him to hold it open for her, unfortunately Wren was already thinking too highly of him. Gabriel shoved the door opened and continued inside, letting the door slam backwards into Wren, he didn't turn around or even bother to see what had happened, he didn't even care enough to look. Wren, instead, entered on her own accord, pushing the door herself.

The reception area was small, the floors were tiled, showing a marble stone underneath. The walls, instead, were a yellow-ish colour. Some couches, an ATM and a desk also sat with no one in attendance. A small gold bell lay on the desk, Wren assumed it was a “ring for attention” sort of thing, she rang the bell. A door behind the desk creaked open, and out came a man who carried a beer in his right hand. He looked gruff in appearance, unshaven stubble sheathed his jaw, as well as two uncut sideburns, he was roundish and large in stature. He stood over the desk, not bothering to sit down. ‘Room for two?’ Asked Gabriel sheepishly. The man gave them a once-over, examining Gabriel particularly. After a moment, he spoke; ‘Sure, here.’ His tone was throaty. He opened a drawer from under the desk and pulled out a single key, a snowflake keychain dangled from it. ‘Room 4, it’s just outside, to your left, on the bottom floor.’. Gabriel didn't hesitate, he snatched the key and went over to the room, leaving Wren to deal with the payment situation. He may not have liked her very much, but he trusted her enough not to run off with the cash. It didn't seem like there was any bus system in place in Strate anyways, especially not at this hour.

After paying, Wren made her way over to the room, utterly relived to finally have a real roof over her head. As she reached the door, Wren found herself tripping on a slight ledge right in front of it. Down she came, tumbling forward right toward the cold wood of the entrance, she quickly pushed her hands out, hoping to catch herself on the closed doors solidness. But no, unfortunately for Wren, someone hadn't closed the door properly. So down she came, the force of her body falling pushed the door open further, her face hit the inside of the doorframe, a slight smacking sensation left her face imprinted on the warm carpet floor. Wren squirmed at the thought of looking up, how baldy she didn't want to see Gabe’s stupid smugly face looking down at her, ready to spout a one-liner. She slowly opened her eyes, finding his feet directly in font of her. ‘How was your trip?…’ he asked, Wren cringed at this comment ‘…I’ll see you next fall.’ ‘Ugh.’ Wren groaned. She hoisted herself up and her eyes met his, and there it was, that stupid smug little eyebrow-cock she had come to loathe. She huffed and stepped past, then, Wren took a look at the room around her.  She found that it wasn't very pretty, in fact it was quite the opposite. Musty, smelly walls, an old television set, a gross old couch, a tiny kitchenette and two beds made up the room. The bedsheets we’re a dark blue colour and looked like they hadn't been updated since 1980. She also noticed a small door that presumably led to a tiny bathroom. ‘Is there a shower in there?’ She asked, pointing over to the little room, she assumed Gabe had already taken a look. ‘Yeah, it’s a bit crappy though, I wouldn't go in there barefoot.’ ‘It’ll do.’ Wren dove straight for the bathroom, eager to wash away the gross, crusty old blood from her palm, lucky for her, her clothes had avoided much stain from the ooze, Gabriel, however, was not so lucky. His burgundy button-up still stained a shade darker from the slash that briefly existed on his throat. When Wren escaped into the shower and finally left the room vacant, Gabriel began to undo his shirt. He made his way over to the kitchenette where he found a small sink, he filled it with hot water. Gabriel took off his shirt and placed it in the hot sink water. After some struggle to understand how it worked, Gabriel came to learn that there was a detachable nozzle connected to the tap too, he decided to wash of the dried up blood that had been hidden underneath his collar on his neck with it, this left his topless upper half looking questionable.

Wren stepped out of the shower, slightly unnerved by the alarming amount of mould that hid in it’s corner, this motel was certainly disgusting is some aspects. She put on her unwashed clothes, however left Gabriel's jacket to soak in the bathroom sink. Her clothes were still slightly muddied from earlier in the evening. When she entered the living room, Wren was startled to find Gabe wet and topless, he didn't give her the chance to comment on his questionable appearance however; ‘I’m just washing my shirt, relax.’ Wren nodded and went on about her way, Gabe didn't exactly have a torso that was particularly interesting to look at anyway. Wren choose to sleep fully-clothed that night. She pondered the events that had occurred, How strange it was to hitch a ride with a stranger, sharing a room with one was even odder than that. She checked the bed for bed bugs, and after a thorough search determined it safe for sleeping. She slept on top of the covers though, and only used a sheet as a blanket, still in fear of the mites that might lurk in a dirty motel like this. The events that had occurred that day haunted her as she lay down to sleep. Wren finally let her mind rest, how much she had much to contemplate in here dreams that night.

Not long after Wren had dozed off, Gabriel still sat awake, not sure of what to do or how to feel. After his shirt had soaked for long enough, he stepped outside onto the front porch to hang it out to dry. There, Gabriel found himself memorised by the scenery yet again. After a while of staring at the stars and mountaintops, he found himself feeling something completely new: tiredness. Gabriel went back inside, there he stood for a short moment, staring at the vacant bed, he yawned. Gabriel had seen Wren put herself to sleep earlier that night, and so he decided to repeated her actions. He laid down, closed his eyes and tried to do what humans made look so easy; Gabriel tried to sleep. How stupid he felt, laying down and trying with all his might to “count sheep”, something he had heard people did to lull themselves to rest. But, finally, after tiring himself out by thinking to hard about what sleep was, and how to properly perform it, his mind finally gave in. For a short while everything was okay, and foggy, and forgotten. Being asleep was a bliss that Gabriel had never know, but could know happily add to his list of good things, but this didn't last long.

Gabriel awoke with a start to the yelps of Wren in the bed next to him, she squirmed and panicked in her bed. Gabriel stared at her; ‘What are you doing?’ he asked snakily, he was irked to have been woken by her. ‘Short stack? Hellooo?’. Gabriel stood up and approached the girl as she continued to mutter yelps of pain. Gabriel noticed that her eyes lay shut, he discovered that she, in fact, wasn't awake at all, but was deep in a nightmare. Beneath the sheer white of the bed sheet, he also noticed a reddish glow. Gabe pulled the sheet off her slightly, discovering her scarred hand glowing a dull red yet again. How curious. Looking at the sigil carved into her palm, something stirred deep within him. That was his own sigil, a symbol that once was representative of the Messenger of God, of someone humanity could rely, but not anymore, not for a very long time had it meant anything of the sort. Gabriel grew bored of Wrens squirming, he left her and walked over to the bathroom. As he was about to cross to the toilet, Gabriel found a strange sight staring back at him in the mirror, his reflection, or rather, his own topless vessel. There he paused for a moment, Gabriel examined himself closely, noticing spots and stray freckles he had never taken the time to notice before. There he stood for many minutes, taking in this human form he had inhabited for almost an eternity now, yet he knew nothing about. Gabriel walked back to the living area, but something felt devoid inside him all of a sudden, and the actions that followed just felt like the right thing to do. He took the blanket that covered the motel bed, wrapped himself in it, and then paused. Gabriel laid down on the floor. His eyes felt heavy, his body ached, as did the rest of the world around him it seemed. He felt something almost hollow, empty, inside. The floor felt right for some reason, there was something comfortable about the hardness of it. Gabriel shut his eyes again, this time finding it easier to drift off into the foggy void of sleep. The floor was where he slept for the rest of the night.

— CHAPTER 9