kore_logs | i blame it on my own sick pride

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i blame it on my own sick pride

Who: Dean Winchester, Raphael, and Gabriel.
When: Day 72.
Where: The woods.
What: Raphael and Gabriel have some revenge plans for what Dean did as a trickster, and today's the day.
Warnings: Fighting animals/things in the woods, violence.

The message on the communicator had been clear: Sam's going to die if Dean doesn't get out there to save him quick enough, and if he brings anyone with him... that's it. Light's out.

The only thing he thinks about as he gets together as many weapons as he can carry is whether or not Gabriel and Raphael are going to leave him alone long enough for him to save his brother. If they don't, archangel or not, they better watch the fuck out.

He's quiet as he slips out of his house, and he tries to keep a low profile as he makes his way to the woods. He's poked around in them before, but he's never gone very far, having been told they're full of crap that'll kill him; it's on his list of things to do, but he didn't get a chance before being a trickster and then being grounded. He stops at the edge, adjusting his grip on the shotgun he has in one hand. He's thinking about taking out his Purgatory knife instead, but he'll stick with the gun for now.

No time to waste. He gathers himself together and strikes out, and the desperation that's building up behind his stone-faced hunter's expression pushes him forward not with a frantic, panicked walk but something hard and determined instead. He hasn't felt this ready to kill everything that gets in his way since Purgatory, and he finds himself slipping back into that mindset already.

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Dean focuses on one foot in front of the other, on keeping his senses alert and paying attention to his surroundings. This really isn't that unlike Purgatory, looking for Cas, but the more he tries to comfort himself with that, he only seems to agitate himself even more. This is like Purgatory.

No, he can keep a level head. He can stay foc--

Oh gross! Crap -- fucking -- he got spider web in his mouth! He stops and has to wipe at his face; it's sticky and it's not coming off and there's a freaking stupid lot of it. He winds up backing up into the pool of water he'd been avoiding anyway, and none of this is doing any good for his nerves.

Under normal circumstances, he'd have been laughing at that, but Dean's not the only one who's focused here. He glances over at Raphael - Dean's far enough into the woods now that Gabriel's getting a little impatient. Can they beat him up now? Pleaaaase?

So maybe he's taken the whole Trickster thing to heart a little. Sue him. He snaps his fingers, though the sound might not be distinguishable from any of the other noises of the woods, and slowly a variety of creatures begin to draw themselves together out of the shadows. There's a blue monkey with big red boots in the trees above Dean, and just out of range of his peripheral vision, two of the Fimbles and Clifford the Big Red Dog begin to form. He'd considered monsters that were actually scary, but given Dean's history he doubted they'd have the same effect on him they'd have on most of his victims. Besides, there was something he found particularly attractive about the idea of Dean being beaten up by children's TV characters. They don't move to do anything or even bring themselves to Dean's attention just yet, though. After all, this is Raphael's revenge too, and Gabriel will wait for him to add any details he wants to before getting the party started.

Oh yes they can beat him up a little now. The only real concern was whether or not Dean would call for Castiel when he figured this out.

Another problem for another day.

Raphael watched Gabriel's forms materialize - Gabriel was actually better at this part. But a little sabotage wasn't out of the question - he simply removed the gun powder from the bullets, which Dean won't notice until he tries to fire the gun.

You create the attacks, I'll manage the environment?

...it was nice to be working with his brother again.

You got it.

He popped back into view: he didn't want any doubt in Dean's mind that this was his doing. Boots the monkey swung down by its cartoonish tail to flick Dean in the back of the head, and the 'monsters' (more disturbing, he was fairly sure, than a lot of things he could have come up with himself) began to lurch towards him with all the subtlety of a brick through a window. Even if Dean's gun had been functional, he'd discover that the strange creatures were strangely resilient for things that looked like they were made of cotton and stuffing.

Motherfuck--

The thing is, even when Gabriel pops into view, Dean can't be sure that Sam isn't out there somewhere waiting for him. Gabriel was gunning to come after him anyway; he has no reason to think that the events are related yet, which means that he won't be calling for Cas because that's a condition for keeping Sam safe. Which means that Dean's firing a bunch of useless bullets at freaking Boots and Clifford the Big Red Dog.

"Are you freaking -- " He's cut off by Boots kicking him in the back, which sends him stumbling forward and into the waiting arms of one of the things with stripes. For a stuffed animal with tiny arms, it's strong, and Dean fights hard to get free, coming away with a bloody lip and scratches down his side.

"Call 'em off!" he barks, drawing his knife as he eyes Clifford, who's starting to growl.

It's lucky Gabriel's leaning against a tree, because he's cracking up so hard that he really does need the support. It's funny enough that it makes what Dean had done to him seem worth it.

While Dean was preoccupied with the Fimble (Florrie, if Gabriel remembers correctly), the others have closed in, leaving Dean in the centre of a very odd circle about twelve feet in diameter. The only sizeable gap is the one where Gabriel is standing and laughing, and while he may be less creepy than his creations, he's definitely not any less threatening.

Of course, he hadn't fully thought about why he'd wanted Clifford there, other than that Dean doesn't like dogs... but now that he recalls why it is Dean doesn't like them, he's very pleased with his subconscious. The colour of Clifford's fur shifts a little, getting darker; his eyes develop a red, rabid-looking glint, and he starts to foam at the mouth. The growling is becoming particularly menacing, and slowly and deliberately, he starts to pad inwards towards Dean.

If he weren't so busy fighting for his life he might lunge over there and punch that smile right off Gabriel's face -- allow him his fantasies in the moment, okay? Especially when he's facing down one hellish looking Clifford, and Dean's skin is crawling. He thought he had this hellhound thing down, but he hadn't been able to fight that one for the trials, and he's not sure it was all bad luck. Maybe he's scared. Maybe this isn't something he can do.

This is not the mentality that leads to winning a fight, and Dean tries to squish it all down as he grips his knife tighter and wills himself, with everything he has, to keep his defenses up, his attention sharp, not to let the sick taste of fear overwhelm him.

"Alright, you had your laugh!" He can't help the panic sneaking into his voice, and the sweat running into his cuts is stinging.

"Call your dog off, Gabriel!"

Oh this was beautiful. He wouldn't have thought about Hellhounds, but this is prefect really. He doesn't revel himself, not yet. Instead, he pushes against an overhead branch, just a little, enough to lead deference to the thought that it might break - or that something was stalking Dean from overhead.

And a drop of what looks and feels suspiciously like blood falls, landing on Dean's shoe.

It's hard to want to take his eyes off Clifford, but the panic's mounting despite himself, and when blood drops on his shoe, he can't help it; he has to look up, has to check. He finds there's nothing to see just in time to look back to find Clifford poised to strike. It's like he was waiting for Dean to feel it coming before he leaps, and Dean's almost frozen in place a second too long. He manages to move out of the way in time to avoid being pinned down, but Clifford still clips him, swiping down the side of his leg.

Blood starts to seep through, and he huffs in pain as he hurries to scramble back to his feet. In all that, he lost his knife, but he draws another one now as he stumbles backward, twigs snapping beneath his feet.

"Ah ah ah."

His tone's scolding, though fairly mild. Now that he's more serene than amused, the sadism is starting to really show through, and with a completely unnecessary wave of his hand the Fimbles close in behind Dean, intending to hold him in place - at least, as much as they can with their stubby T-Rex arms. Clifford stills for a moment as Gabriel appears beside him, one hand buried in the fur of the Clifford's flank.

"Good boy, Cliff." He pats the dog with a little more glee than affection, then turns his attention back to Dean. "Tell me, Dean... how sorry are you feeling? Oh, and uh... before you answer, I should probably let you know that any answer short of begging on your knees for forgiveness, and you're Kibbles 'n' Bits."

It's not true, of course. Any apology is all Gabriel really wants, now that he's had the satisfaction of seeing Dean beaten up by Fimbles and Clifford the Big Red Dog already. Still, it's always fun to watch him squirm.

"You son of a bitch," he growls. He jerks himself free from the Fimbles, and yeah, their arms are stubby, but they manage to scratch Dean's arms up as he pulls them away. Figures. He doesn't want to let Gabriel beat him into an apology like this, but as far as Dean knows, Sam's still there waiting for him to get through this circus and come find him.

"You're a sadistic fuck." And Dean should know how it feels, having been one himself not so long ago. He clenches his jaw, not wanting to cave, but also needing to get out of here and find Sam, right? That's what the whole point of this was.

"Can we reschedule the cage match?" He'll try to sidestep instead. "There's something more important going on right now than your stupid revenge scheme."

"Lemme guess, yoga class? Zumba? Date with Rosie Palm?"

It's tempting to tell Dean the truth of their cunning ploy, but the moment doesn't feel quite right. Besides, he knows Dean and he knows brothers: letting him think that Sam's in trouble, that he could save Sam from whatever's been happening to him, and then not letting him do it... he's certain that that'll mess with Dean as much as (if not more than) just knocking him around. He knows it would if it were him.

"If you're so desperate to leave, Deano, you know the magic word."

He glances over at Raphael, though probably not blatantly enough to make it clear to Dean that he's there. This is Raphael's revenge too, even if Gabriel's the frontman, as it were: he wants to gauge his reaction.

How long d'you want to draw this out? Wanna get a punch or two of your own in? Make him beg or are you gonna be happy with just a sorry? Hey, do you wanna see if we can make him cry? I bet we can.

So perhaps Gabriel's enjoying this a little too much for someone who was bordering on friendly with Dean not too long ago. Actually, he's probably enjoying it a little too much for anyone with an ounce of empathy in them, but he's never claimed to be a nice person. Or, you know, not a sadist. He doesn't even bother arguing with Dean on that count.

Raphael nods and moves - the opposite way. Gabriel could be looking at something else coming to attack or something he's scared away, if Dean catches it at all.

Oh I bet we can too. I'm entirely too finished dealing with Winchesters and their belief they can order us around.

The only orders he followed were Michael's, and that was because he chose to. That was a part of why he had been so furious - no one told Raphael what to do. No one.

There are times Raphael doesn't wonder if Michael isn't the only of the four who doesn't take enjoyment in the occasional sadistic action. In that way, both junior archangels take far more after Lucifer, than Michael. But that thought only serves to remind Raphael that Lucifer is still missing, and that at least in part, he owes the loss of both of his older brothers to the Winchesters, and if the thorny vines snaking their way towards Dean is any indication, he's out for blood of his own.

"Look, there's someone out here, and they need my help, so could you stop being a dickhead for twenty seconds and let me go?"

Like hell he's apologizing. The way Dean sees it, Gabriel's the asshat if he doesn't let him go and help someone. He'll leave out that it's Sam for as long as he can because he doesn't expect Gabriel to be very sympathetic toward him, but Sam didn't do anything to him (lately) either, so.

Raphael's vines reach him, start curling around his ankles; he looks down and tries to jerk free, but they clamp tightly around him and start coiling higher. He hisses as they drag over where he was scratched up by Clifford the Hellbeast, and he turns a glare back on Gabriel.

"Kinky touch." He struggles against the vines, but they're not budging, and he sighs and rolls his eyes.

"Come on! You know exactly what that felt like for me -- you're feeling it now."

"If they're dumb enough to go for a picnic out here, I say they deserve whatever they get."

He watches and smirks as the vines twine their way up Dean's legs. It's a nice touch, he thinks. With a wave of his hand, the thorns get a little more vicious - not enough to do any real damage, of course, but the spines curve just enough to catch and drag when he struggles, rather than just prick.

"You know me, Dean, I'm a kinky guy." Raphael might not be known for it so much, but Gabriel's happy to take the credit. "And FYI? It isn't the same. The difference is that your powers were temporary. Me? I don't have to give a shit about consequences, and I do this for a living. And you should've known better than to lay a finger on my brothers."

Dean gets three guesses as to which of those things is pissing Gabriel off the most right now, and the first two don't count. Vengeance taken against him he could have understood: he doesn't feel any remorse for what he's done to Dean and Sam, but he acknowledges that they have reason to want revenge. He'd have taken revenge right back, of course, but not at this kind of level. Raphael could have done almost anything to Dean, and Gabriel still wouldn't think any payback was merited. The same goes for the rest of his family, whether Dean had meant to hurt them or not.

"Hope your damsel in distress doesn't need your help any time soon, champ. I can stay out here all day. All week, if you push me."

No, they won't budge but at least the thorns aren't barbed, which Raphael had considered. Let Dean get tangled - the more he struggles, the tighter they will get. The curves Gabriel adds to them, that gets an approving look from Raphael.

Overhead the light shifts a little, like something big moving, but there's nothing there. Or maybe there was, and it's teleported away. Difficult to say - or what Raphael had been doing since he stops, still, at Gabriel's comment about his brothers. It makes his shoulders lift, chest puff, pleased.

And he steps just a little closer in behind Dean, though still invisible. A puff of air against the back of Dean's neck, a breeze, and Raphael is gone again - but in the distance, out of sight and a good ten minute run, there's some sounds. That might be something electrical and thrashing.

Dean doesn't want to look like he's scared any more than he has to in front of Gabriel, but the thorns are digging in and hurting, and they're pulling his attention. When the light moves overhead, Dean tenses -- which hurts a bit -- and then glances up as casually as possible. Whatever he thought might've been there is gone, and he's glad he managed to hold it together to check without freaking, but then he feels the air on his neck, and he jumps, surprised. He hadn't felt anything creep up on him, and he still doesn't feel anything behind him, and though it hurts like shit, he glances as best he can to check.

Nothing there, but something sounds scary and menacing a ways way. Is that Sam? Is that what's waiting for him if Dean can't get to him?

Gabriel's obviously not letting him go. Maybe if Dean can get him to let him out of these vines long enough, he can break away, try to get to Sam. Maybe not, also, and the maybe not's bigger, but what other choice does he have?

Oh, yeah. Apologizing.

"You cared a lot about your brothers when you checked out. How long was that? How long did you abandon them for again?"

"If that's supposed to make me any less pissed off, Dean, you might wanna rethink your strategy."

He might be more willing to have that conversation another time, or rather that angry rant, but he's definitely not going to bother answering the question with Raphael around. He might not care about exploding at Dean, but with his brother around he'd like to maintain some decorum - and also, to not bring up that subject at all ever, because he's 100% sure that Raphael's feelings on it are going to be very much along the same lines as Dean's.

"Besides, touching though your concern for my brothers' feelings is, it sounds like you oughtta be more concerned about Princess Peach, or whoever it is you're off to rescue. You're supposed to be the dashing hero type, aren'tcha? Is your pride really more important to you than their safety?"

There's a scream in the distance, for effect. It's the Wilhelm scream rather than anyone's in particular, and he doesn't particularly expect Dean to think it's Sam, but the point still stands.

His likely are, and he forces himself to be calm - because he does want to rail at Gabriel for his abandonment.

And if Raphael isn't quite as bad as Lucifer - isn't willing to take out their Father's abandonment and betrayal on the humans, he's not entirely above taking his anger out on someone else. And Dean is far too handy at the moment.

With far too much trauma.

The vines rush, keeping a grip on his legs, but others grabbing his wrists and arms, pulling and tugging at him. Trying to pin him down, trying to invoke a memory of being pinned down on one of the racks of Hell. Dean had no business even thinking of getting involved with affairs between the Host anyway.

He can't do much to fight the vines off, and as they pull him into the all-too-familiar position, his grip on the situation starts to slip. He's still here, and he works as hard as he can to be mentally here and not fall back into a memory, but it burns just underneath as he pulls in frantic jerks, trying to free himself.

"You know whatever you get me to say, I'm not going to mean it." Stay here, Dean, stay here; don't let the flashback overwhelm you. He forces his eyes open and focuses hard on Gabriel, even if he'll probably be treated to the flashes of desperation and fear.

"You're not going to get what you want no matter what."

He dismisses the assorted cartoon 'monsters' with a wave of his hand. The vines stay in place, though, and he strolls over, seemingly casual. He stops just outside Dean's personal space, and pulls an expression that might look benevolent, sympathetic even, on anyone else. On Gabriel's face it doesn't look as if it belongs.

"Dean, Dean, Dean." He sticks his hands in his pockets, smirks, leans in. "I always get what I want."

A quick wink (deceptively friendly) and he withdraws, continuing to walk - he circles around Dean, as if examining his work, and flicks him in the back of the neck as he passes.

"Of course, I don't expect you to really be sorry for any damage you did. If I did I'd be bringing out the puppy eyes instead - trust me, they're super-effective. What I want is for you to regret thinking you could just do whatever you like to us and get away with it. We're not all Castiel, you know - it takes more than a bit of yelling and fluttering your ridiculously long eyelashes to get the rest of us to put up with your crap. You need to stop thinking you can treat us the way you do: we're eons old and we're dangerous, Dean. You'd do well not to forget that."

It's the 'we' that settles it for Raphael. He waits until Gabriel is standing back in front of Dean. Because wounded pride aside, his anger at Dean Winchester is just that: anger that he thinks he can do whatever he wants and get away with it. That his (former) status as Michael's chosen vessel and just being Dean Winchester means he can do literally whatever the Hell he wants and walk away.

So he appears - just appears, no flutter of wings, no show, just makes himself visible - behind Gabriel, leaning in over his brother's shoulder, almost leaning their heads together. "That. And to remember our memories are far, far longer than yours."

A stiff wind blows, bringing with it tattered, dirty, bloody pieces of plaid fabric. Some of his hits Dean square in the chest.

Raphael appearing startles him, and then he gets even angrier. Jesus Christ, are they so insecure about their power that they need to go and torment him because he had a little fun with them when everything was upside-down? Yeah, they're sure acting eons old right now. When they go and say that, their point is totally lost on Dean. Fuck these douchebags. So what they're more powerful than Dean can really conceive of? Dean's been fighting things more powerful than him for practically his whole life. And guess who, of the three of them, is still alive?

The piece of shirt hits him in the chest, and he looks down at it, the panic really setting in now. He messed up; he couldn't get to Sam, couldn't save him. If he had caved to Gabriel sooner, would it have worked? He feels like he's going to be sick, but he doesn't want them to see him cry, either. God, this is his fault.

But these assholes must've been the ones keeping him here in the first place, drawing Dean out here to fuck with him. To fuck with Sam. And maybe it's Dean's fault that he's dead because he couldn't put up the facade of humility they wanted, but they still killed him.

When he looks up again, the expression in his eyes is scarily violent, unlike anything that's happened yet.

"Point made. But let me tell you something. You better kill me now while you have the chance because if I get out of here, I'm coming for you. You killed my brother, and I'm going to make you pay for that. You might be powerful, but you're not unbreakable, and I can still make you bleed."

"Well, if you want to die, I'm sure we'd be happy to oblige."

That being said, this isn't what he had in mind. He wants Dean to suffer, of course, but letting him think Sam is dead feels a little like overkill. If asked, he'd probably say he was just being pragmatic: Dean has proven on various occasions that he can and will take down beings far more powerful than he should be able to, and he's especially dangerous when motivated by anything to do with Sam. He wouldn't say that he knows damn well how much losing a brother hurts, especially now that Lucifer's missing (presumed tortured). He doesn't want Dean broken, and that kind of pain - well, he doesn't like Dean thinking he can get away with messing with him and his family, but he's not sure Dean's deserved that kind of punishment.

"Your sasquatch of a brother isn't dead, though. Don't get me wrong, I've got nothing against putting a few extra holes in his chest, but he's not here. Hasn't been since before you got here. You're just ridiculously predictable - everyone who knows you knows that dangling Sammy in front of you's the best way to get a response."

However, just because he's got an ounce of sympathy in him doesn't mean he's going to be nice. Or even just not cruel.

"But hey, if you wanna keep making idle threats - and may I just remind you which one of us currently looks like an ad for a bondage website - feel free. I think they're funny."

"Too happy, save the difficulty Castiel - Castiels? - would cause." Which was, for the moment, a good restraint from killing Dean.

"Dean if I was going to kill your brother, you'd at least hear it." It's low, predatory in a way Raphael usually isn't, all sharp edges and focused intent. He doesn't have to prove to anyone what he can do. But he almost wants to, with Dean. "But it is difficult to stomach, isn't it? Thinking your beloved brother is suffering and there's nothing you can do about it."

He leans forward, just a bit, to put his arm on Gabriel's bicep. "That being said, you've already killed one of my brothers, so if you raise hand to Gabriel? Not only will I kill you? But I'll make sure you understand what a cheap hack Alistair really was." It's not, at all, an idle threat. "Understand?" Because he couldn't pretend that Lucifer being gone wasn't fraying on his nerves

"Otherwise, this is all just a bit of fun, right Dean?"

Sam is dead one minute, and alive the next? Only why should he trust these dickbags -- but then, no. Okay, no. They were fucking with him. What really sells it is Gabriel saying this is the best way to draw Dean out; he believes that they would go for the manipulation aspect, that fits, that makes more sense than them killing Sam. Killing Sam offscreen, he guesses he should say, as Raphael continues spewing his douchery everywhere.

It wouldn't solve anything if he said that Cas has killed more angels than Dean ever did, so he keeps his mouth shut on that, but it's still true and it fuels his continued annoyance at these jerkwads to never get over a goddamn thing, including the Apocalypse. Shit, Dean holds grudges, but he lives with freaking Meg. Can't these fuckers cool it?

Also, this threats weren't idle. When Gabriel says that, Dean meets his eye and lifts his eyebrow. If they had gone out here and killed Sam, and they did let Dean go, he would've figured out a way to make them pay.

"You did all this so I wouldn't want to kill you?" He doesn't need to say it plainly that he thinks that was stupid. He makes it obvious. Raphael sure did show his hand, didn't he? And now Dean knows where to get him where it hurts if he ever needs to, but Dean's not that kind of person. Usually. It's true the angels are more powerful than Dean can fathom, but that doesn't mean he couldn't find a way.

"Hate to break it to you, but I was fine with the both of you. Fans? No, but fine, sure. Fine enough to figure out how to exist with you around. I was out of my head when I turned into that trickster, did all kinds of crap I'm not proud of, crap I regret. You deserved what you got, but it's not like I'm burning a candle of hatred for the two of you. Maybe I would've apologized. But then you tormented me with cartoon animals and snake-vines." He smiles, but it's sharp. "Not smooth."

"Golly gee, Deano, I'm glad you learned to tolerate our existence. That's awful sweet of you - you're a saint. Really, I mean that." He doesn't mean that. "This isn't some kind of contest for the moral high ground, champ, or for who does and doesn't deserve to take revenge."

If it were, he'd be willing to concede that he doesn't have the moral high ground. It's never been much of a concern to him, really: justice is important to him, but not overwhelmingly so. His family is, and so is his pride. Any threat to either of those and he's perfectly willing to completely disregard any of the moral standards he holds others to. Especially when his family is apparently willing to do the same for him, which he deeply appreciates. He's not much one for displays of affection unless they're grandiose and ridiculous, but he leans into Raphael's touch just a fraction of an inch, and his expression softens a little. Unfortunately, he's still a bitter, sadistic, twisted kind of guy, so that's unlikely to actually let Dean off the hook at all.

"I don't care if you want me dead. Given how many times you've tried it, it doesn't exactly hurt my feelings any more. And believe it or not, I can't say I'm interested in listening to you rant and rave about it, so... if this hasn't helped you learn to play nice, we're probably gonna have to try a different method."

The thorns disappear from the vines, but they wrap around his limbs tighter to make up for it, enough to keep him from moving in any way likely to be helpful.

What d'you reckon, we about done here? I think I wanna leave him to stew for a bit. Figuratively rather than literally... tempting though that is.

"I think our mistake was thinking he could learn something." His tone was light which should have been a good sign to run.

Oh right, Dean couldn't.

I believe that sounds like an excellent plan.

"You do like the woods, right Dean?"

"Oh, yeah. They're a real vacation spot." Especially with all the things that want to rip him apart, and he's not even talking about what Gabriel and Raphael came up with.

"Good."

He turns and begins to walk away, gesturing for Raphael to follow. If Dean thinks that means this whole business is all over though, he'll be disappointed: the vines don't disappear or loosen at all. All that changes in the way of props is that a small team of cartoon rodents appear. Their outfits identify them as Alvin and the Chipmunks, and in case Dean has any trouble recognising them, they'll start singing a while later - probably about twenty minutes before they begin to chew through the vines. After a few paces, Gabriel looks back over his shoulder with a smirk that's about as far away from reassuring as is physically possible.

"Enjoy your night, Deano. Don't let the bedbugs bite... or anything else."

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i blame it on my own sick pride

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