Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9360500.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      Gen, M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Gabriel/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      Gabriel_(Supernatural)
  Additional Tags:
      Pre-Slash, serial_killer_au, Murder, Homicide, child_molestation, Child
      Abuse, trigger_warning, Blood, Gore, Rape, Death, Bullying, Homophobia,
      Drugs, Drug_Use, Needles, Torture, Hunting, Field_Dressing, Big_Bang_Fic,
      SPN_AU_Big_Bang, Art_by_Mayalean.tumblr.com, Serial_Killer!_Gabriel
  Series:
      Part 3 of Sweet_Sabriel_Serial_Killer_Verse
  Collections:
      SPN_AU_Big_Bang_2016
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-01-18 Chapters: 5/5 Words: 12159
****** Sweet Dreams are Made of This ******
by iscatterthemintimeandspace
Summary
     Gabriel Novak had always known he was different from other boys.
     There was something inside him, something dark, driving him to kill.
     He could have been born with it, or maybe had it beaten into him by
     his stepfather’s fists, but one thing was for certain, he couldn’t
     escape it.
     (Prequel to How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved by You), but can be read as
     a stand-alone)
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
***** Part 1 *****
                                    [cover]
                                    [part1]
Gabriel always told people he didn't remember much of his formative years, but
that was the earliest lie he learned to tell.
His whole life was built on lies, and the key to his survival and later, his
freedom dependent on them, so he learned the value of untruth almost as soon as
he learned to talk.
The first time he lied to protect himself he was six years old. He’d broken the
last good plate they had, and he knew there would be a beating if his mother’s
boyfriend found out. So he hid it under the sofa, behind the normal pile Al
always left, and waited for the fall out.
It was weeks before his mother found it and questioned him, in one of her brief
sober periods, and he cast the blame on his brother, Raphael. Raphael got a
beating, and Gabriel remained unscathed. He didn’t feel guilty for it, even
when he saw the bruises. That was the first time he’d questioned whether
something was wrong with him.
His questioning didn’t stop, it only got worse as he got older.
He was seven when John came into his bedroom for the first time. He smelled
like vodka and orange juice, and he sat like a stone at the end of Gabriel’s
bed while Gabriel curled up pretending to sleep. John being this close always
resulted in bad things, slaps and punches, screaming until he cried, and once a
broken arm, but normally if he stayed quiet, he went away.
But John didn’t go away. He leaned in and ran a finger over Gabriel’s cheek,
down his neck, over his chest, and Gabriel shivered.
“Shhhh shhhh,” John crooned, putting a hand splayed over Gabriel’s chest. “It’s
alright now. Don’t be scared. Just wanna show you that I love you that’s all,
baby boy,”
Gabriel looked up at him with wide eyes, his chest rising and falling under
John’s hand. He didn’t say a word. He never would.
Silence became his solitude. If he screamed, and kicked and fought, it took
longer and it hurt. But if he squeezed his eyes together tight, and kept quiet,
it was over before he knew it.
If his mother knew, she never gave any indication. She didn’t stop it and
Gabriel doubted she was sober enough to notice anything besides herself. She
hasn’t spent a significant amount of time sober since before Gabriel could
remember. The time she didn’t spend at work, if she even had a job, was
normally spent at the bottom of a bottle, or in the throes of a heroin binge.
His early years were a blur to him, a vicious cycle of beatings, and drugs and
abuse. The only bright spot in his life was his brother, Raphael.
It was Raphael that took care of him, who made sure he was clean, and fed, who
dropped him off at school every day and walked him home at night. It was
Raphael he went to when at 12 years old, he couldn’t stop wetting the bed.
He panicked the first time it happened, because he knew it would mean another
beating, and his mother was favoring the belt recently. He scrambled out of his
bed, shaking and wet, as he pulled the sheets from the mattress. He soaked up
the mess as best he could and threw everything into the battered old washing
machine, praying it wouldn’t wake anyone. Gabriel washed himself, crouched in
the chipped porcelain tub, scared to turn the water on more than a trickle
because it made too much noise.
His brother knew something was wrong the moment he saw Gabriel sleeping huddle
on the couch under the threadbare blanket instead of in his bed. He was the one
person who could see through Gabriel in a second.
After what Gabriel had put him through, he half expected Raphael to rat him out
but instead he showed him how to clean the mess, and remake his bed with an old
tarp between the sheets so it would be easier to clean the next time around. He
never asked what was wrong with Gabriel, which was more than Gabriel could say
for himself. The question grew louder in his mind, in John’s voice, echoing in
the great vast emptiness: ‘What is wrong with you?’
With the bed-wetting, and John’s visits growing more frequent, there were very
few places where Gabriel felt safe. He escaped his house when he could, and
slipped into the protection of the overgrown forest behind it, hiding with his
books.
The woods became his solace, his happy place, where nothing could hurt him and
the world was filled with valiant knights and justice. He’d stay for hours,
until it was dark, and he had to go home.
One night, he misjudged the time, and couldn’t find his way home. It was fall
and the temperature had already dipped into the low forties by the time the sun
set. There was no way he could get out of the woods after dark and he hunkered
down shivering, and searched through his jacket pockets. Raphael always teased
him about the assortment of things he kept in his pockets, odds and ends that
he picked up. He was hoping he had some matches.
He was in luck. There was a crumpled matchbook in his pocket, with three
matches inside. Just enough to make a fire.
He spent the night shivering, watching the fire curl and twist, until the sun
rose and he stomped it out. Gabriel got home, and his mother didn’t even look
up from her bottle. The fire had kept him safer than she had and he found
himself setting them frequently, just to watch it dance and spread.
He was barely thirteen the first time he lit a house on fire. It was old and
abandoned, and right on the edge of the woods behind his house. He hadn’t meant
to do it, but the small fire he started in the living room got out of control
too quickly for him to contain it.
Gabriel dashed into the woods, his heart pounding but not with fright. He’d
never felt so alive in all his life, as he watched the house go up in flames.
There was no other feeling inside him, not fear, not guilt, only exhilaration.
It made him feel powerful.
He stayed until the house burned to ash, transfixed by the falling timbers and
glowing embers. He kept it with him as he hurried home.
Gabriel knew John would come for him that night as soon as he got through the
door. His mother was already passed out with a bottle against her chest, and
his stepfather was sitting at the table with a syringe and a spoon.
By the time he got into bed, Gabriel was shaking so bad his teeth were
chattering, and he thought of the fire, picturing it in his mind as he waited
for it to happen. John came into his room with a grunt, dropping his pants on
the side of the bed. Gabriel squeezed his eyes shut, retreating into himself as
he reached for him.
He didn’t see Raphael’s face in the doorway; he didn’t even know anything was
off until he heard his mother start screaming downstairs. She wouldn’t wake up
on her own after a binge; nothing short of a catastrophe could rouse her.
John jumped out of bed, tucking himself back into his boxers, as he raced from
the room, leaving Gabriel sore and bleeding on his thin sheets. His brother
appeared a moment later, pulling him up into his arms and carrying him to his
own small room.
Raphael sat down on the bed, still holding Gabriel, rocking like he was rocking
a small baby. “I’m so sorry,” he crooned, his head buried in his brother’s
curls. “I didn’t know...I… oh god…”
Gabriel savored the warmth of his brother. “It’s okay,” he responded awkwardly,
not quite sure what to do or to say. “It’s-”
“No, it’s not,” Raphael finally eased his hold, and looked down at him. “He’s
going to pay for this.”
“How?”
The look that spread over Raphael’s face spent shivers down Gabriel’s spine.
“You’ll see.”
~~
Years later, Gabriel would admit he had no idea how two kids had pulled it off
so flawlessly.
Raphael picked him up from school, and took him to get pizza and then to the
arcade. When Gabriel asked where he’d gotten the money, Raphael smiled and told
him to finish his dinner. After a couple rounds of Mortal Kombat and skeeball,
they headed out, but instead of making the right towards home, Raphael steered
them left.
He took them down a back alley, past the park and into the warehouse district
of town, ignoring the stench of the homeless junkies that shook their cups at
them. Finally he came to a door, and he stopped and knocked resolutely.
Gabriel looked up at his brother. “Why are we here? Shouldn’t we go home?”
“Soon, Gabriel,” his brother hushed him, knocking again until the slit in the
door slid open.
“Yeah?” said a gruff voice from inside.
“John Holland sent us to … to… pick up,” Raphael responded nervously, shifting
from one foot to the other.
“Go home, kid,” the man answered, sliding the window shut. Raphael knocked
again, more frantically than the last time, and it opened again.
“I’m serious, kid. Go away.”
Raphael pulled the biggest wad of cash Gabriel had ever seen out of his pocket
and waved it in front of the window. “John Holland,” he repeated.
The door opened and Raphael dragged Gabriel inside before the bouncer shut the
door behind him. Gabriel held his breath, covering his mouth with his sleeve
against the stench of unwashed bodies and stale coffee
There were people everywhere, draped across couches, huddled in corners, spread
out on the floor. They all had the hungry look of an addict, wan and thin,
their bodies curling in towards themselves. Gabriel didn’t make eye contact as
he struggled to keep up with his brother.
The bouncer led them into a back room, where another man was seated at a desk
counting money. He raised an eyebrow when he saw Raphael and Gabriel, and his
hands stilled.
“What is this?” he asked the bouncer. “I ain’t running no nursery school.”
“They said Holland sent them to pick up for him.” The bouncer explained.
“Waving around a wad of cash.”
Suddenly the man no longer seemed concerned about their ages. He eyed the cash
interestedly. “How much do you want?”
Raphael threw the money in front of him. “As much as this will get me.”
Ten minutes later, they were back on the street, the bundle full of white
powder tucked into the inner pocket of Raphael’s coat.
“Why did you buy that?” Gabriel asked, looking up at his older brother with
terrified eyes.
Raphael stayed silent, holding Gabriel’s hand tightly in his own.
“Raph, what’s going on?”
But his brother still said nothing, dragging him down the dark streets until
they reached home.
John was passed out on the living room couch when they arrived, and he didn’t
even stir when Raphael slammed the door behind him. All of his things were out
on the table, the burner still on, and the syringe and spoon next to it, empty.
Gabriel watched with big eyes as his brother dropped the plastic baggie of
heroin on the table, and then, knelt to rummage under the sink. Finally, he
produced a small cardboard box with a rat on it, and a pair of rubber gloves.
He put that next to the drugs, and began the process Gabriel had seen John do
many times before.
After slipping the gloves on, Raphael mixed the heroin with the powder from the
box, putting the resulting paste onto the used spoon on the table. He heated it
over the flickering flame of the burner, and the kitchen was filled with the
smell of vinegar.
Gabriel wrinkled his nose, looking back to make sure his stepfather was still
snoring on the couch. If he caught them anywhere near his things, they’d both
get beaten for sure.
With shaking fingers, Raphael dropped in a little pill sized bit of cotton into
the now bubbling mixture, plunging the syringe into it and sucking the contents
into the glass tube. He flicked it with his finger to get any bubbles out, and
laid it back down on the table. Raphael picked up the box and put it back under
the sink, tucking the gloves into his pocket.
“C’mon Gabriel,” he said finally. “Time for bed.”
Gabriel didn’t argue. He looked from John to the syringe, and then to his
brother, who just smiled at him.
“You don’t have to worry about him anymore,” Raphael told him as he followed
Gabriel down the hall and into his room. Even though Gabriel was thirteen,
Raphael still tucked him in every night, and Gabriel changed into his pajamas
and got into bed without his usual complaints.
“Is John gunna be okay?”
Raphael kissed his forehead. “You let me deal with John, okay?” he said,
pulling up the blanket. “If anyone asks, we just went to the arcade.”
Gabriel nodded. He just wanted to make his brother happy, and after all that
Raphael had done for him, one lie wasn’t too much to ask. He yawned and
snuggled down into his blankets.
His brother turned off the light as he walked out. “Sweet dreams.”
Gabriel closed his eyes. Like normal, he didn’t dream at all. But when he woke
up, his stepfather was dead. He pretended to be sad when they found John’s
suicide note; he even squeezed out a tear or two for his mother’s benefit, but
all he felt was emptiness.
Not happy, or relief or guilt, he felt nothing. Gabriel didn’t have to wonder
if something was wrong with him anymore.
He knew.
***** Part 2 *****
Chapter Summary
     Gabriel meets his estranged father and long-lost brother, with whom
     he shares more than just blood.
                                    [part2]
Gabriel barely breathed. The object he coveted was right there in front him.
One wrong step and he would lose it. Carefully, he hefted the crossbow onto his
shoulder, looking through his sight at the buck that was peacefully grazing in
front of him.
He listened for the laughing, exhaled, then pulled the trigger, the twang from
the weapon reverberating through his body. The buck looked up, but it was too
late for him. Gabriel’s arrow hit his mark, and the animal slumped to the
ground, dead.
Gabriel hopped down from his stand in the tree and made his way towards the
deer. It wasn't the biggest he’d ever killed, but it would quell his hunger.
Gabriel did not hunger like other people did. There was a laughing shadow
inside him, one that had been birthed by the death of his stepfather, that
lusted for the deaths of others to feed it. He silenced it with animals
instead.
He pulled a pair of rubber gloves from his pack, and his sharpest knife,
getting to work. He preferred to field dress whatever he killed, leaving the
messy bits behind and making butchering it easier later. Gabriel rolled the
animal over, slitting it’s abdomen from sternum to crotch with a deft flick of
his knife. When he first started hunting, field dressing took him over an hour,
but now with all the practice he’d been getting, it took him much less. He had
the whole thing gutted and clean within a half hour.
Finally, he looped a rope around the deer’s neck, securing it with a sturdy
knot, before dragging the carcass towards his truck.
Once the deer was safely stowed in the bed, Gabriel put away his bow, and
climbed into the driver’s seat. The truck roared to life as he turned the key,
only stalling once before it kicked into gear. The truck wasn’t the best, but
it got him where he needed to go and that was good enough for him. He flicked
the radio knob and headed home along the backroads.
After dragging the deer into the shed for processing later, Gabriel headed
inside to get cleaned up. As soon as he walked in, the smell of bacon frying
overwhelmed him,and he turned to find his father humming as he cooked.
Gabriel was still wary of the man who had fathered him. He’d been gone most of
Gabriel’s life and then returned out of the blue. According to him, he’d been
getting clean and finding himself, only then coming back for his estranged wife
and child.
Gabriel didn’t trust him as far as he could throw him, couldn't forgive him for
what he’d been through while he was gone but he did give the man points for
getting his mother clean. Chuck had gotten Becky to do what Gabriel and Raphael
had failed; go to rehab.
Having his mother sober was still a novel idea for Gabriel, and he was still a
little skeptical of her trying to mother him, even though he was sixteen and
had been taking care of himself for most of his life. He wasn’t used to her
presence, and it unnerved him when he went out to pursue his other hobbies.
Even though arson was by far his favorite, Gabriel realized people would start
noticing if houses were regularly burning down around him, so he stopped. He
took up a suitable hobby murdering and mutilating animals, also known as
hunting and taxidermy. It helped quell the urges to use his skills on people,
at least for now.
Chuck turned as Gabriel slipped into the kitchen, and kicked off his boots.
“You want some breakfast, champ?” he asked him, smiling.
Gabriel slipped off his hunting jacket. “No, thanks. I’m good, Chuck.” he
retorted. He flat out refused to call the man his father.
“Your mom and I are going to pick up your brother today,” Chuck told him,
turning back to his bacon.
Gabriel didn’t respond. Lucifer may share his DNA, but as far as Gabriel was
concerned, Raphael was the only real brother he had. He walked into the living
room and then into his bedroom.
“Do you wanna come with -”
Chuck’s voice was cut off by Gabriel slamming his door. He flopped down on his
bed, burying his face in his pillows. He hated this, hated pretending that they
were just a normal family now instead of the cobbled together mess that they
were.
He waited until he heard the car back out of the driveway before coming out to
butcher his kill. He was dressed in old clothing, and worn sneakers, his hair
pulled back into a small ponytail. His shed was in the very back of their
overgrown yard. He’d built it himself after his mother found the headless deer
carcass in her garage. He had no choice after that.
The deer’s body lay on his table, ready to be dress, as the old air
conditioning unit kept the shed cold. His knives were laid out, ready and
gleaming on a side table to his left. Gabriel stepped in and locked the door
behind him, walking back towards the table.
He tied a rope to the deer’s hind legs and using the pulley in the ceiling,
hoisted the animal up so he could skin it. He started at the top, carefully
cutting the skin from the meat and working his way down. Gabriel cut between
the vertebrae of the tail and started skinning the torso, saving long strips of
skin to work with later. When he finally finished, the deer was ready to cut.
Looking over the body on his gambrel, Gabriel took a deep breath, closed his
eyes and listened. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the laughing thing
stirred, old and dark, and it came to the forefront, peering out through his
eyes. It was time to let it out to play.
Gabriel picked up a knife, savoring the heft of it in his hand. He pulled the
shoulder away from the torso, and ran his knife parallel to the ribcage, until
the shoulder section came free. He repeated the motion on the other side,
setting them aside for further trimming. They’d make great stews and slow
roasts. The back straps were next on his agenda, and he stuck his knife under
the knobby part of the hip bone to free it, before cutting along the backbone.
Gabriel went about this work with deft and precision, cutting each piece as if
it was a hot knife through a slab of butter, and it wasn’t long before the deer
was nothing but bones and there was a pile of neatly wrapped meat in its place.
He felt the creature inside him recede, sated, shuffling back into the dark
corner from where it came to sleep. Gabriel breathed a sigh of relief for the
first time in days, and slowly walked back inside to shower in the solitude of
his empty house.
With a towel wrapped around his waist, Gabriel pattered back into his room to
find someone lounging on his bed. The boy was long and blond, and he was
flipping through one of Gabriel’s books. He looked up at Gabriel lazily and
grinned.
“Who the hell are you?” Gabriel demanded, holding his towel closed.
“Is that any way to speak to your newest sibling, little brother?”
Gabriel huffed. “I only have one brother. Now get out.”
The boy sat up. “You mean that sad sack in the pictures on the mantel? Doesn't
look like much of a laugh to me.”
“Out,” Gabriel repeated. “I need to get dressed.”
Finally Lucifer got up, pulling himself up to his full height. He had at least
four or five inches on Gabriel, and he could see now that his eyes were blue,
like their father’s. They held none of Chuck’s warmth and Gabriel got a chill
looking into them.
“Later… little brother.” He said, slipping out of Gabriel’s room.
Gabriel locked the door behind him, and leaned against it, his legs shaking
under him. For the first time outside of his shed, the laughing thing in the
back of his mind kindled to life.
The normal slow chuckle of it was replaced by a bone-chilling cackle, and it
turned Gabriel’s blood cold to hear it.
Perhaps he had more in common with Lucifer than he thought.
~~~~
Gabriel hefted his bow onto his shoulder as he took a deep breath of cold air.
While most hunters would have skipped today, with its negative temperature, the
monkey on his back didn’t give Gabriel a choice. He had to go, or risk hurting
someone. But there was also another reason.
Lucifer.
His half-brother had been living with them for a month, and Gabriel spent every
spare moment out of the house that he could. He couldn’t take the tension any
longer. Chuck and his mother tried to be welcoming, and kind, but Lucifer would
spend a saint’s patience. He was the rudest, laziest, most arrogant person that
Gabriel had ever had the misfortune of meeting, and he wasn’t going anywhere.
It was really testing his limits.
Gabriel treaded lightly in the fallen snow. The buck he had in his sights was
small, and young, maybe only a year old or so. He hated going for the smaller
ones, but he couldn’t feel his fingers or toes, and his teeth were chattering.
He wanted to make his kill and head home.
Taking a deep breath, he pulled the trigger, listening carefully to the
laughter inside of him. He watched the arrow fly and hit his mark, the deer
stumbling wildly.
“You call that a shot?”
Gabriel nearly jumped out of his skin at the voice behind him, and he whipped
around, his empty crossbow pointing directly at the offender.
Lucifer was standing behind him, his cheeks a vivid pink from the cold. “You
gunna shoot me, little brother?”
Gabriel scowled at him. “W-what are you doing here?”
“Saw you leaving,” Lucifer shrugged. “Decided to see where you go so early.”
Gabriel moved towards his kill. “Well for us to eat venison, someone has to
kill it,” he replied, grabbing an antler. Normally he'd field-dress it, but it
was much too cold for that. At least his shed had heat.
“Need a hand?”
Gabriel blinked up at his brother. “What?”
“I said, need a hand? That thing looks heavy, and I know my way around a
knife,” Lucifer grinned.
“Uh, okay,” Gabriel motioned for him to join and together they pulled the deer
into his truck. “Meet you at home?”
Lucifer nodded as he got into his car. “Sure thing...little brother.”
They pulled into the driveway a couple minutes apart and wrestled the deer from
the bed and into the shed, where Gabriel hung it up in his gambrel.
He laid a tarp underneath it, to catch the innards, and pulled out his knifes.
Lucifer watched him with amusement, producing his own knife from his pocket.
“May I?”
Gabriel looked from the deer to his brother, listening as the chuckling in his
head dulled to a quiet whisper. “Be my guest.”
Gabriel watched in rapt attention as Lucifer began to carve up the deer. The
knife was like another part of him, an extension of his arm as he dispatched
the corpse in front of him. He never stopped or took a break, but simply paused
as if deciding which cut to make next.
Finally he was done and the meat was laid out on Gabriel’s table, the bones and
guts in the tarp in the floor. It was truly something to behold, and the thing
inside Gabriel was impressed for the first time.
“Where’d you learn to do that?” Gabriel asked, his mouth hanging open a little.
“That was incredible!”
Lucifer turned to him with a smirk, wiping his bloody knife on his pants. “My
grandfather taught me to hunt,” he explained. “Before I killed him.”
“Before you what?”
“You heard me,” Lucifer gave him an arrogant look. “I killed him. Old Grandma
too. That’s why I was locked up.” He searched Gabriel’s face.
“Why?” Gabriel asked him, staring directly into his eyes. There was a flicker
behind them and he heard the thing inside him give a giggle.
“Because I wanted to.” Lucifer shrugged, grinning at him with a new
understanding. “Do you…ever want to?”
There was a thick lump in Gabriel’s throat. He couldn’t speak so he just
nodded. Finally someone he could talk to, someone who understood the thing he
had inside him.
Lucifer leaned forward and threw an arm around him. “I think I’m gunna like it
here, little brother.”
~~~~
The next three months were some of the happiest of Gabriel’s childhood. He and
Lucifer spent most of their time tromping through the surrounding forest, as
Lucifer taught Gabriel everything he knew; the quickest way to gut and dress a
deer, the best way to drop a man in a fist fight and more importantly to reign
in and control the budding monster inside of him.
He told Lucifer everything, about John, and the fires, about the laughing thing
in his mind. His brother understood, and for the first time, Gabriel’s house
felt like home.
But things weren’t well between the rest of their patchwork family. Gabriel
would hear his parents fighting long into the night, their angry voices
bouncing off the walls of their small house. They fought over everything, over
money, over bills, but mostly they fought over Lucifer.
Even though things had gotten better between Lucifer and Gabriel, they had only
gotten worse between Gabriel’s mother and half-brother. It didn’t help that
Chuck always took Lucifer’s side, even when he was wrong. He clearly felt
responsible for his older son’s bad behavior.
The last straw for Chuck was finding the bottle hidden behind the chemicals
under the bathroom sink. He and Lucifer were gone the next morning before
Gabriel even woke up. His mother was already drunk, passed out across her bed
in a pool of her own vomit.
Gabriel walked to school, sniffling to himself. He was lost again, set adrift
without an anchor or compass.
“Why you crying, Novak?” Sneered a harsh voice behind him, as he stepped onto
his school's’ campus. “Your whore mother wouldn’t let you fuck her this
morning?”
Gabriel didn’t turn around. Uriel was one of his frequent tormentors and he
knew it wouldn’t do any good to yell back at him. He just walked faster.
The jeering behind him didn’t stop. “Why you crying like a little girl, Novak?”
The thing inside him called for blood, and Gabriel took a deep breath. He tried
to remember what Lucifer had told him, how to push the monster back until a
better time, until he could control the environment.
Uriel grabbed his shoulder roughly, and spun him around, causing his bag to
fall onto the asphalt. He looked down into Gabriel’s blotchy tear-stained face.
“Why you crying you little faggot?” He said, spitting onto Gabriel’s cheek.
Every word Lucifer had told him flew out the window, and before Gabriel knew
what he was doing, he shoved the other boy onto the ground. Uriel barely had
the chance to breath before Gabriel was on top of him, his fists flying into
his face.
Gabriel let loose, the thing inside him laughing madly as blood poured from
Uriel’s nose. Muscle memory took over, as remembered training with Lucifer
turned into black eyes and a broken jaw for Uriel. He didn’t stop until someone
pulled him off, someone else screaming for an ambulance, screaming that he
wasn't breathing.
Gabriel was led off to the nurse's office where she washed Uriel’s blood off
his fists, and bandaged the contusions on his knuckles. Vaguely he remembered
them calling his mother, but the phone rang and rang, and eventually the school
assistance officers just dropped him off at his house to begin what would be
the first of many suspensions.
He would remember it as the first day he truly felt alive.
***** Part 3 *****
Chapter Summary
     In which Gabriel has not seen the last of his brother, Lucifer.
                                    [part3]
Gabriel squinted as he stepped into the morning sunlight. He regretted taking
early classes, but the University only offered this class in the mornings, so
he had no other choice.
College had been a long shot for him, after the amount of suspensions he’d had,
but his grades were good enough to earn him a spot as an undergrad at the
University of Tennessee. He scraped by, but barely.
He had no idea what he wanted to study, but U of T was world famous for it’s
Body Farm, a plot land where bodies were left to rot in order to study the
decomposition process. While the thought of a rotting body creeped most people
out, Gabriel wasn’t bothered in the slightest. It would seem he found his
calling.
The class load for an anthropology major with a minor in Biological Sciences
was heavy, but it kept him out of trouble. Most of the time he was simply too
tired to indulge in his other hobbies, and that suited him just fine. He got to
class without incident, slipping into the lecture hall with just a moment to
spare, his overly sweet coffee clutched in his hand.
It was over before he knew it, and he headed back out into the bustle campus to
get back to his place.
His apartment wasn’t big or nice, but it was all his. He’d been living there
since his mother OD’d before Christmas of his freshman year. It was the only
real home he’d ever known. He trotted down the wooded path to his place,
ignoring the other students. Despite his reputation as a partier and class
clown, Gabriel wasn’t close with any of his classmates. None of them knew the
real him and he quite preferred it that way.
Gabriel took his key out of his pocket, and unlocked his door, running up the
stairs and into his apartment.
He knew something was not kosher the very second he walked in, and he looked
into his kitchen nook to see Lucifer lighting a cigarette at his kitchen table.
Gabriel breathed a sigh of relief.
“Lucifer,” he huffed. “You scared the daylights out of me.”
His older brother looked up with a grin, breathing in a big puff of smoke.
“How’s it hanging, little brother?”
Gabriel hung his backpack on the wall and sat in the chair opposite him. “What
are you doing here?”
Lucifer scrunched up his nose. “Do I need a reason to drop in on my little
brother and see how he’s doing?”
Gabriel rolled his eyes. “I haven’t seen you since you and Chuck left. You
barely call.”
“I’ve been...busy.” Lucifer chuckled, blowing smoke in Gabriel’s face. “You
know how time consuming… hobbies can be.”
“How long are you in town?” Gabriel asked, moving to get a beer from the
fridge.
“Worried about me cramping your style?” Lucifer teased. “Only a week or two, a
vacation of sorts. Can I stay here with you?”
Gabriel twisted the top off the bottle, and took a swing. “Of course. I
wouldn’t say no to some company.”
Lucifer blew a ring of smoke and grinned. “I think we’re going to have a good
time.”
~~~~
Surprisingly, Lucifer wasn’t the worst roommate Gabriel had ever had. He did
his own laundry, and cleaned up after himself. Hell, he even cooked dinner once
in awhile. But as one week stretched into two, Gabriel found him wanting his
brother out of his space.
He’d managed so far to keep the urges at bay while school was in session, but
with two monsters sharing one small space, it was getting harder and harder to
keep himself in check.
Lucifer, it seemed, wanted to pick up his teaching where he’d left off all
those years ago. He wanted them to hunt together, to be brothers in murder as
well as brothers in blood, but Gabriel wouldn’t risk it. He wasn’t as
comfortable as Lucifer was in his identity as a thing that went bump in the
night, not just yet. There was still too much he needed to learn, still too
much he didn’t know, and that could easily get him caught.
Lucifer wasn’t worried;he’d already been to prison, but Gabriel was terrified.
He wasn’t big and he knew what happened to guys like him in prison.
When Lucifer wasn’t prowling the apartment, he was out scoring with as many
women as he possibly could. Luckily for Gabriel, he took them elsewhere, but he
still came home reeking like sex and stale perfume.
Gabriel worked harder at his classes, spending most of his time studying and
far less time drinking and partying. So much time in fact, that finally Lucifer
took it upon himself to show his brother a good time.
“C’mon, it’s just one night,” Lucifer wheedled, digging through Gabriel’s sorry
wardrobe. “You have to play sometimes. Maybe Lilith has a friend she can hook
you up with.”
Gabriel, who was attempting to study for an osteology midterm, gave his brother
a dubious look over the edge of his book. “I need to study.”
“You know it. You could pass that test in your sleep, not that I understand why
you even bother, not with a better career path in front of you!”
“Murder and mayhem is not a career path, brother of mine,” Gabriel pointed out
with a sigh, putting down his book on the nightstand. He knew Lucifer wasn’t
going to give up; he never did. “Fine. One night.”
Lucifer punched the air, and resumed digging through Gabriel’s closet. “Do you
have anything nice in here?” he despaired.
“Don’t exactly have a lot of money for clothes when I’m here on scholarship.”
Gabriel explained tensely, pushing past Lucifer and coming away with one of the
two nice shirts he owned. It was a barely worn maroon button down shirt with a
collar, and he knew for a fact he looked great in it. The color brought out his
eyes, or so he’d been told. “Happy?”
Lucifer looked over the shirt. “Good enough.”
It was dark by the time they left his apartment, and Lucifer already had enough
liquor in him to stop a horse. Gabriel wouldn’t be surprised if he was carrying
him by the end of the night, but he went along with it anyway. Maybe Lucifer
was right, it was good to have a little fun now and then.
In the short time Lucifer had been living with him, he’d manage to gain a large
group of lackeys. But that didn’t surprise Gabriel. People seemed drawn to his
brother in a way he couldn’t explain.
Tonight they ended up at the house of Lucifer’s current fuck buddy, Lilith, a
frowsy blonde girl who Gabriel recognized from some of the early house parties
he’d gone too. She was a known party girl and exactly Lucifer’s type: easy,
rich and a little bit crazy.
Gabriel kept to himself as he watched the rest of them get drunk, sipping at
his whiskey rather than chugging it. Truth be told, he preferred sweet, fruity
drinks to straight liquor or beer, but he knew he would never live it down if
he admitted that to anyone.
He began feeling pleasantly buzzed around the end of the third glass , and by
four, he was solidly drunk. The party started winding down after that, and
Gabriel dozed on the couch as he waited for Lucifer to finished so they could
go home.
It was 3 am when his brother came out of the bedroom, smelling like whiskey and
god-knows-what. He had a huge grin on his face, and his cheeks and ears were
flushed pink. “Let’s go hunting,” he grinned.
Gabriel blinked at him blearily, yawning and rubbing at his eyes. “Let’s go
home,” he insisted, standing up. Most of his buzz had worn away, but he was
still drunk enough that walking was harder.
Lucifer looped an arm around his neck and roughly dragged him out of the house.
“Let’s go hunting,” he retorted. “C’mon it’ll be fun.”
Gabriel tried to shake him off, but his grip was like a manacle around his
neck. He slid his arm around Lucifer’s waist to steady himself, and it was
then, he felt the knife strapped around his ribs. “‘Not here. We’ll get
caught,” Gabriel protested, righting the two of them.
Lucifer’s grin had taken on a sinister sheen, and Gabriel realized he hadn’t
seen his brother take more than one drink all night.
“Lucifer, no,”
Lucifer just smirked. “C’mon, little brother. It’s time to rip the band-aid
off. Live a little.” He let go of Gabriel, and stood up, taking his knife from
the sheath on his ribs.
Gabriel debated going home, debated leaving Lucifer to his fun, but in the end,
he followed him. He couldn’t let him go alone. He just hoped no one would be
out to become his next victim.
No sooner had the hope popped into Gabriel’s mind, that motion across the
courtyard caught his eye, his heart sinking. A mousy brunette with large
glasses, and a large backpack slung across her back, exited the library,
clearly tired and not paying attention.
Gabriel made a grab for his brother, but Lucifer was already gone, sauntering
across the yard with a devil-may-care swagger in his step.
The girl didn’t stand a chance.
Gabriel watched as Lucifer strode up next to her, playing the drunken fool as
he slipped his arm over her shoulder, and the knife against her throat. Gabriel
could see the fear wash over her simply by the way she walked. It was shaky,
and hesitant, unlike her previous confident stride.
Lucifer dragged her away from the well-lit campus and down in the dark woods,
where they wouldn’t be disturbed. Gabriel followed closely, checking over his
shoulder for any witnesses, but there was no one.
Quietly, he headed down the wooded path after his brother, his stomach doing
flip-flops at what was happening. He’d dreamed of this, having a person all to
himself to do whatever he pleased, but this wasn’t right.
He followed until he reached the slight clearing where Lucifer had chosen to
stop. The girl was already tied up, and gagged with her own clothing, her large
gray eyes pleading with him as he approached.
Gabriel looked away.
Lucifer smiled at him, amused as he twirled his knife between his fingers.
“Ready, little brother?” he asked. “I’ll let you make the first cut,” he
offered.
Gabriel shook his head. “Can’t we just let her go?” he asked.
“She’s seen me already,” Lucifer growled. “And she’s seen you. You think she’ll
keep that pretty mouth of hers shut?”
Gabriel looked at the girl again, and a shiver went through him. He knew her,
he realized with a start; she sat behind him in Biology. Her eyes pleaded with
him over the gag, tears pooling in her dark lashes. Lucifer was right, even if
this felt wrong. She’d seen them.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
He’d always imagined his first victim as someone who really deserved it. He
knew it was strange, that most monsters have a type, that it was normally
something about their victim’s appearance, but his urges were to kill those who
were monsters just like him. Gabriel supposed his early encounter with John
might be a big part of that, but this girl hadn’t done anything. Even the thing
inside him cringed at the wrongness.
He couldn’t do it; he wouldn’t do it. “I can’t,” he admitted finally. “Y-you do
it.”
Lucifer gave him a look that could only be described as disgust. He turned to
the girl without another word, and with a flick of his wrist, slit her throat.
Hot blood burst forth from her neck in a torrent, drenching both Lucifer and
Gabriel with its warmth. Gabriel flinched at the sensation, but was unable to
tear his eyes away from the girl as she died. She dropped to the ground,
convulsing as she struggled to breath. Gabriel watched as her lifeblood flowed
from her, and the light left her eyes.
No sooner had she stopped moving, Lucifer was on her, his knife flashing as he
cut into the body over and over again. He laughed as he carved the girl up,
digging shapes into her dead flesh. Gabriel’s brother grinned as he played with
corpse, taking joy out of the mutilation as well as the murder.
Gabriel felt sick to his stomach and it had nothing to do with the booze
sloshing around in his belly. He had held Lucifer up as his hero, as a kind of
mentor in his specific mutation, but now he saw him for what he really was,
another monster, just another common atrocity raised from his base nature by
childhood hero-worship.
Staggering on shaky legs, Gabriel stumbled away, leaving his brother and the
body behind him with barely a backwards glance. He made it back to campus and
expelled what was left of his dinner and the whiskey he had drunk into the
grass, heaving and retching until his stomach was empty. Only then did he go
back to his house.
Gabriel left Lucifer’s belongings on the stoop and locked the door.
He didn’t see him again.
***** Part 4 *****
Chapter Summary
     You never forget your first.
                                    [part4]
This doctorate was going to kill him, Gabriel decided, panting through his
mask. It was a hot summer at the University of Tennessee at Knoxville, and the
bodies were ripe. He was bent over, sweating through his thin cotton t-shirt,
examining the partially skeletonized remains of an elderly woman.
He was studying the difference of age on the decomposition of a corpse, and
Mrs. A was subject number one. His other subject, a thirty year old drifter,
was moldering on the other side of the yard, as far as was possible so as not
to cause cross-contamination.
A few other students milled around him, checking on their own subjects. One of
them kicked one of the bodies and laughed, and Gabriel sneered through his
mask.
He hated Zachariah more than he had ever hated anyone. He was pretentious, and
pompous, a bully and a snake. What was further Gabriel knew he was bad. The
thing that laughed inside him could feel it, and it put him on edge whenever
Zachariah was around.
But Gabriel for all his trying, had yet to catch him in the act, and until that
point, he couldn’t do anything, not by his own code. After the disastrous night
with Lucifer back in college, Gabriel had decided he wouldn't be like his
reckless brother, killing on a whim. He would make sure.
He hadn’t heard from Lucifer since then, and part of him missed his brother,
but the rest of him was glad he was gone. Gabriel had come to recognize his
brother would get caught sooner or later and it was better if he didn’t take
Gabriel down with him. He was more than content to be alone.
He took another sample, scraping small pieces of dessicated skin into tubes to
test back at the lab. Gabriel turned to stick the glass into his kit, when
Zachariah kicked it over.
“Oh sorry Novak,” he simpered. “With how small you are, you’re easy to miss.”
Gabriel took a deep breath, looking over his sample. Nothing had broken;
everything was fine, no reason to slice Zachariah’s throat just yet. He stood
up and took his mask off, smiling at his tormentor. “No worries,” he grinned.
“I’ll put a flag up next time so you can see me.”
Zachariah’s smile receded. Clearly he was hoping to get more of a reaction out
of him, but Gabriel wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. He stomped away without
another word.
Gabriel bent over to secure his samples again, putting them all safely back
into his kit and locked it up. He knew Zachariah was up to no good, he just had
have proof.
He had work to do.
~~~~
Tailing someone without being noticed was one of the earliest tricks that
Lucifer had taught, and Gabriel had only built upon it since then. Hunting
helped too, deer and other wild game were much more perceptive than humans and
if he could sneak up on a wild turkey, he could sneak up on Zachariah.
They had many of the same classes so he was covered there, but Gabriel was much
more interested in what Zachariah did after he left campus.
When their last class of the week rolled around, Gabriel made up his mind he
would spend the weekend tailing his prey, finding out his routine and
uncovering the skeletons in his closet. He wasn’t left waiting long.
He watched as Zachariah pulled his car out of his driveway and drove towards
the local downtown. Gabriel followed behind him, keeping a safe distance. He
parked on a side street and followed Zachariah into the bar.
Gabriel took a seat in the corner, out of view, but where he could still keep
an eye on his target. He expected there to be at least someone waiting for
Zachariah, but he sat down at the bar by himself and ordered a drink.
After an hour, Gabriel was sure no one was coming to meet him. Zach just sat
there, eyeing all the pretty women that came through. Finally one sat next to
him, and he tried to chat her up. She gave him a disgusted look, inched her
chair away, and went back to her drink. Zachariah finished his drink and
ordered another, watching the TV. He didn’t seem bothered.
Finally, she got up and headed towards the lavatory, leaving her drink sitting
within arm’s reach of Zachariah.
Gabriel watched with growing realization as Zachariah waited until the
bartender turned his back, leaned over and slipped something into her drink.
The creature inside him laughed triumphantly, and Gabriel smirked. Finally.
Soon the woman came back from the bathroom, chatting animatedly on her phone.
She sat down at her stool and pulled her drink forward, holding it in her hand
as she finished her phone call. Behind her, Zachariah was watching with hungry
eyes, as if willing to just take the damn drink already.
Gabriel got up from his chair, stumbling across the room in a drunken fashion
and knocked the glass from the woman’s hand. “Ssss-ssssorrryyy,” he slurred,
grinning at her. She gave him an offended look, and dug into her purse. She
threw money down on the bar, and ran out leaving Zachariah glaring at Gabriel.
“Hey there, Zachy,” Gabriel smirked, standing up straight.
“Novak,” Zachariah growled, getting up from his seat with his fist clenched.
Luckily for Gabriel, the bartender surged forward, and Zachariah backed away.
“You’re gunna pay for that.”
Gabriel waved at him from under his chin. “Looking forward to it,” he batted
his eyelashes at him theatrically and the woman sitting closest to them started
to laugh. Zachariah turned red and stomped out.
One of the women turned to Gabriel. “I saw what he did to her drink,” she said,
offering him a shy smile. “You’re a hero.”
The laughing thing let out a mocking peel of glee, and Gabriel grinned back at
her, trying not to show his fangs.
“Not exactly. But I’ll take it.”
~~~
It didn’t take him long to learn Zachariah’s schedule and it took Gabriel every
ounce of self-control to not kill him every time he saw him. His presence had
become totally unbearable as Gabriel planned how he would kill him, but he
consoled himself with ending his life in his own head every night.
Finally it was time. His kill room was set up, all his instruments ready. He’d
put a lot of time into this, and he hoped his effort was rewarded. Now all that
was left was to make the grab.
Gabriel waited until he saw Zachariah stumbled out of the bar on a Friday
night, and into the waiting arms of a cab. He followed closely, until the man
was in his house and the driver had gone away. Zachariah was alone, drunk in
his house, and no one would notice he was missing until the start of the work
week.
He flipped the lock with a square of plastic he’d cut from a milk bottle, and
tip-toed through the kitchen and into the living room. Zachariah was sprawled
out on the couch, his head tipped back from sleep. Gabriel snuck behind him,
slipping a needle as fine as a hair into the exposed flesh of his arm, pressing
the plunger. The phenobarbital he administered would make Zachariah pliant and
easier to manage. He waited quietly until the drug went into effect.
Getting Zachariah into his car wasn’t the hard part, but getting him out was.
The drug’s hold was tight on him as Gabriel brought him out into the woods,
into the old abandoned house he’d cleaned and painstakingly prepared, but he
managed. He sat the bigger man down on a chair and began to prepare him as
well. After he was trussed, the only thing that was left was to wait for him to
wake up.
His heart was almost ready to pound out of his chest, as he watched Zachariah
draw breath. This was the first for him, the first person that would come into
his presence, and leave in pieces. It was a dizzying thought. The laughing
thing inside of him was practically vibrating with anticipation, its excitement
making Gabriel anxious to get started.
Finally Zachariah came to, the ragged sound of his breathing alerting Gabriel
to his state. Gabriel stood and loomed over him, a grin plastered on his face.
“Nice of you to join me, Zachy,” He smirked.
Zachariah struggled at the duct tape and zip ties that made up his bonds.
“Novak, when I get out of these you’re dead, you hear me! Dead!” he growled,
pulling at his arms.
“Well that’s the idea,” Gabriel allowed his predator’s smile to show, too much
gum and too many teeth. He circled around him, picking up one of the knives
from his side table, set up exactly like it had been when he’d only been
butchering deer.
“I always knew you were an asshole,” Gabriel started, running his finger along
the finely sharpened edge of the knife. “But it wasn’t until that night at the
bar I knew exactly what you are.”
“You don’t have the balls for this, Novak.” Zachariah hissed, his eyes growing
wide with fear.
“Funny you talk about balls,” Gabriel got closer, using the knife to slit the
side of Zachariah’s pants. “I’m taking yours. See, I knew the woman at the bar
couldn’t have been the first you tried with, so I did a little digging.” He
picked up a folder from the table and opened it . “Strings of unsolved rapes
across the country, each while you were at a school there, but since we’ve been
here, nothing. You didn’t stop, you just got smarter. They don’t remember
anything after being dosed with GHB, do they?”
Zachariah was silent for a moment. “You can’t prove anything,” he bit out
finally. “The police can’t-”
“In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m not exactly the police, Zachy.” He
smirked again, pulling what was left of Zachariah’s pants and underthings off,
leaving him bare from the waist down. “Well, that’s… unfortunate.”
He drew his blade, the laughing thing inside of him taking control of his arm.
It had waited for so long to be able to do this, to hear the melody of pain as
his knife cut through flesh, bone and sinew. It had waited for so long, and
Gabriel finally let it go.
A sense of calm and well-being washed over Gabriel like a wave, as he worked,
slicing Zachariah’s genitalia from his body, holding it for the man to see.
Zachariah’s screams were music to his ears, his thrashing and caterwauling only
serving to make it better. But he wasn’t done quite yet.
Putting on a mitt, Gabriel pulled a red-hot poker from where it had been
warming in the fireplace, and waved it over the screaming man. “Did you think
that would be it? After all you’ve done, all the lives you’ve left in ruin
because you couldn’t keep it in your pants?” Gabriel grinned. “Not gunna have
that problem anymore though. I read about this in a history book. Very
creative, the English were. They used this to kill Edward II.” He informed him.
“I think this is pretty fitting, don’t you?”
He smirked again, before taking the hot poker and shoving it up into his anal
cavity. Zachariah’s shrieks hit a new crescendo as Gabriel felt the poker tear
through his organs, like a knife through butter. He didn’t stop pushing until
Zachariah stopped breathing.
The thing inside him wasn’t laughing anymore as he pulled the poker out of him,
watching as his body slumped to the chair; it was singing. He had never heard
it make another noise, and now its haunting voice was enveloping him like that
of a heavenly choir.
The voice held as Gabriel dumped Zachariah’s body in a deep hole he’d dug
through the floor of the house, and lit the house on fire. It sang as he
watched the hovel burn to the ground, burying the corpse in ash as well as
dirt.
Gabriel held the song in his heart as he walked away, feeling more alive than
he had in years.
***** Part 5 *****
                                    [part5]
Gabriel didn’t know how he got sucked into the world of the FBI. At first, it
was just one case, and then another and another and another. Before he knew it,
nearly all of his cases were consultation work for the FBI. They flew him all
over the country, from crime scene to crime scene, from body to body. He helped
agents solve cases, and he helped catch the monsters like him.
But it wasn’t enough for him. There was nothing that compared to the feel of a
knife in his hand. He couldn’t stop. There were just too many horrors for him,
or the law, to deal with. So there was only one thing he could do; he had to
advertise.
Over the next two years, he killed three people.
Meg Masters became his first victim. He met the nurse during an investigation
in Broward COunty Florida. The local authorities had discovered a young man in
bed next to his mother’s bones and needed to know if he’d killed her. Gabriel
had examined the bones, but there was nothing to suggest her son had murdered
her, so he went to talk to him.
The boy was disturbed, and he had to be watched at all times. He was being
gently talked to by a young dark haired nurse when Gabriel arrived with the
officers. The thing inside him spotted her right away, her own creature echoing
it’s laughter behind her pretty eyes. He could feel her hunger. If she noticed
the meeting, she didn’t let on. In fact, she barely looked up when Gabriel took
the chair next to her to begin his questioning.
It became rapidly clear to Gabriel as he spoke to the young man, that he was no
killer. There was no monster inside him, nothing but a confused boy, driven
over the edge by the death of his beloved mother. But Gabriel didn’t leave, not
yet. Instead he watched. He knew the hunger in her eyes would drive her to
kill, and soon. He didn’t have to wait long.
The boy died suddenly two days later, supposedly of a an embolism. Gabriel
wasn’t surprised. With a little digging, he discovered that several of Nurse
Masters’ young patients had died under similar circumstances, and that was more
than enough evidence for him.
She went into the long night with a lot more struggling than her victims had.
Even though it went against his better judgement, he left a calling card, a
simple candy wrapper in Nursie’s pocket, a clever play on the irony on her
method of expiration.
Her just desserts.
Azazel was the next to become a part of his little public works project. He was
a dog fighter that Gabriel had the misfortune in meeting on a case in
Springfield, Ohio. The bones he’d been sent into examine were covered in deep
score marks, found mingled in a pit. The local coroner was having trouble
ID’ing the victims, and because the remains were skeletonized, Gabriel was
brought in to examine them.
It turned out, that Springfield had a bad dog fighting problem and one of the
ringleaders, a man known only as Azazel, had been disposing of his rivals in
the pit, after feeding the meaty parts to his dogs. But other than
circumstantial, there was no evidence that tied him to the four bodies, and in
the end, the police had to let him go.
It was bad luck for Azazel that Gabriel didn’t have the same burden of proof,
and that his dogs already had a taste for human meat. Gabriel didn’t have to do
much to entice the abused dogs to eat their master, and watching him die felt
as good as it had the first time, with Zachariah.
A oily broker from Wellington, Ohio, was the next in Gabriel’s sights. Unlike
the previous two, Alistair wasn’t a killer, but he was a monster nonetheless.
His modus operandi seemed to be swindling the elderly out of their hard earned
savings, leaving them homeless and destitute. One of the couples went as far as
to commit suicide when Alistair maneuvered them out of their home of fifty
years.
He hid the money well and whenever the FBI seemed to get a hand on him, he
slipped through their fingers like water. He was arrogant, self-centered and a
bully, all things that Gabriel couldn’t abide by.
Under the guise of a customer, he worked his way into the broker’s confidence,
pretending he had obscene amounts of money he wanted to hide from the feds.
Alistair was more than accommodating, as long as he got a cut of the profits.
Once Gabriel got some booze into him, it wasn’t hard to get him talking, birds
of a feather after all.
Drunkenly, Alistair invited Gabriel back to see his state-of-the-art safe, and
Gabriel, the wheels in his mind turning, gladly accepted. All he had to do was
ask Alistair to step inside to illustrate the size of it, and shut him inside.
For all it’s bells and whistles, the safe couldn’t save it’s master from a
protracted suffocation.
The Mars bar wrapper Gabriel left in his pocket attracted the attention of the
FBI, and he heard murmurs of the “Candy Man Killer” and the moniker secretly
pleased him. A special task force was assigned because the public and brutal
nature of the murders attracted the attention of the media, and hysteria was
breaking out all over the country.
He’d be lying if he said he didn’t follow his own press, and he was a little
surprised that Bobby Singer himself was assigned to handle the press
conference. Bobby Singer was the head of the FBI’s Behavioral Sciences Unit and
Gabriel knew him from several cases they'd done together. He genuinely liked
the man. He was good at what he did, but he’d gone quiet recently. Gossip said
he’d lost the finest young agent in his pack when one of the killers they were
hunting reared back and killed his fiance. But it was only a matter of time
before he got back on his feet.
Gabriel wasn’t surprised when he received a call from Bobby to consult on a
case down in Louisiana. It had been all over the news recently, and with a
skeleton found, he knew he’d be on the short list.
Before he knew it, he was on a plane headed down south, his to go kit stored
safely in the cargo hold. Gabriel was a southern boy at heart, and he felt very
much at home as the aircraft touched down into the soupy atmosphere of
Louisiana.
There was a car waiting for him outside and he had barely settled in at his
hotel before there the coroner’s van was beeping outside. He grabbed his kit
and ran out, throwing his coat over his shoulder.
Gabriel yanked the door of the car open, annoyed at being rushed. “Hold your
horses!” he said, climbing in.
Rich laughter met him and he looked up to see an old friend in the driver’s
seat. “Getting slow in your old age, Novak?”
“I should have know it would be you, Rufus,” Gabriel laughed, shaking his
hands. “Do you exist just to plague me? The scourge of the South?”
Rufus let out another long chuckle. “I think Bobby likes to punish me with
you,” he noted, putting the van in gear and peeling out of the parking lot.
“This one’s a real doozie.”
“Lucky for you,” Gabriel leaned back and crossed his hands behind his head.
“Doozies seem to be my specialty.”
The crime scene wasn’t far away and the there were cops ringing the border and
making sure no one else was allowed in. Gabriel suited up behind the van,
slipping into his thick white coveralls and shoe covers. His gloves, hair net
and face mask went on next, and he picked up his kit before waddling over to
the area roped off with yellow police tape.
Gabriel ducked under the police tape and he knew a couple things by looking at
it: the victim was young and male, and had been dead for awhile. There were
still strips of desiccated flesh still clinging with the determination of death
to the bones. He couldn’t tell cause of death yet, nothing obvious jumped out
at him, but he’d be able to do better when he got the victim back on the
gleaming metal of his table.
He took a mini recorder out of his pocket. “Doctor Gabriel Novak, 13:00 hours.
Preliminary finds are the victim is male…”
Gabriel slipped into his mask, the mask of a professional doing his job, but on
the inside, he was buzzing. The prospect of catching another monster had his
blood really flowing. He could let the monster out, use it for good instead of
evil. He could feel the killer and he climbed inside him for a moment, trying
to understand what drove him to kill. Gabriel was so completely in the zone he
didn’t even hear the car pull up or the agents that piled out of it.
He was broken from his headspace by a voice. “Dr. Novak?”
Gabriel did a double take as he glanced up from his work to find the voice’s
owner.
He was the tallest man that Gabriel had ever come in contact with, and
handsome, with dark brown hair and strong arms, exactly his type. The man held
himself with a composure that screamed FBI agent, the same cool bearing that
Bobby Singer and so many of his colleagues had. The heat was making him crazy,
Gabriel thought about himself. He had to be crazy to even think what he was
thinking about doing when he was what he was.
He stood up and walked over, pulling off his foggy goggles as he walked. “That
would be me, Agent.”
The man gave him a deadpan look, and Gabriel could practically read the doubt
on his face. “You can call me Sam.”
Gabriel grinned at him brightly. “I hope I can call you often.”
Much to his surprise, Sam began to laugh, and Gabriel felt a little color rise
in his cheeks. He was glad he’d judged him correctly. Behind them, one of the
other agents snickered and Sam put out his hand.
Gabriel smirked even wider, holding up his latex-covered hands, coated in dirt
and grime. “I’ll get a rain check on that, okay Sammy?”
“Point taken, Doc,” Sam responded in an amused tone, his hands sliding into the
pockets of his suit. . “And it’s Sam. What can you tell us about the vic?”
Gabriel suppressed a grin. He couldn’t seem to keep a straight face, something
inside him justing to make Sam laugh again. “Tsk, tsk, kiddo.“No foreplay
before the main event? I pity your girlfriends.”
The two agents behind them started laughing, and Sam’s face flushed a ruddy
red. “It’s Sam, Dr. Novak.” Sam protested, turning to glare at the others.
“Gabriel, Sam,” Gabriel smirked again “And the ken doll and captain side eye
behind you are?”
Gabriel heard the other agent cough, and he gave Sam a knowing look. . “My
brother Dean and his partner, Castiel Collins.”
“Can we get to the vic now?” Dean snapped impatiently, unappreciative of
Gabriel’s witty streak now that it was aimed at him.
“No ID yet,” Gabriel winked at Sam and gestured towards the body.” Caucasian
male, mid to late twenties. Missing a couple teeth, hadn’t seen a dentist in a
while, could be a drifter. He’s been out here awhile, I can probably tell you
almost how long once I check my weather charts.”
“Weather charts?” the other agent, Castiel Sam had said, cocked his head to one
side like a dog. What were they teaching agents now?
It was clear Gabriel would have to explain, and he sighed. “Different
conditions affect how bodies decompose. They affect animal activity, insect
life cycles, the creation of grave wax-”
Dean looked a little green around the gills. “Okay, we don’t need the visual,
Doc. How quickly can you tell us how long he’s been out here?”
All business with this one then, he thought. Oh well. “A couple days maybe.
Provided, that is, Rufus lets me borrow his office.”
The medical examiner snorted. “As long as you promise not to leave it a mess
like last time, whiskey bottles, condoms and bones all over.”
Gabriel opened his mouth to protest, but closed it again when he saw Sam’s
grin.. “You’re exaggerating, Rufus,” he responded quietly. “The bones were on
the gurney.” He winked at Sam.
Dean, party pooper that he was, snorted at herded his brother towards the crime
scene.
Gabriel watched interested as Sam walked up to the body and stopped. Most
agents would have looked over the body, or walked around the crime scene, but
Sam just stood and took a deep breathe. What was he doing?
He stood for a couple minutes, as still as a statue. Dean was ignoring him,
which told Gabriel this was something Sam did often, and the thing inside
Gabriel stirred in it’s sleep. He stepped closer, his curiosity piqued, hoping
to get a better understanding.
“I think,” Sam spoke, opening his eyes. “I think this was his first kill.”
Gabriel gave him a questioning look. How could he have possibly known that?
Gabriel had a hunch that was the case, but it had nothing to do with the
evidence he’d observed. It was all the creature. “How do you figure?”
“I can feel it,” Sam responded, and Gabriel felt a shiver run through him.
Could it-? He looked into Sam’s eyes and something inside of the agent squeaked
in response.
Sam didn’t know it, but he was different.
He was just like Gabriel.
Gabriel’s own creature was riveted, quivering at the thought of the baby
monster that Sam was incubating inside him, a baby that would grow if given the
right conditions. Like his had.
Gabriel smiled “I hate to tell you this, kiddo-” he began.
“It’s Sam.” Sam interrupted.
Gabriel rolled his eyes. “I hate you tell you this, Sam, but in law
enforcement, we need silly things like, ya know, evidence.”
“Forget it.” Sam brushed him off. He wasn’t about to tell Gabriel what was
going on inside of him. Gabriel was a stranger, and Sam clearly didn’t know
about what was festering in his mind.
“Well, let me get this guy back to the office and see what I can figure out,”
Gabriel said, giving Sam a curious look.
Dean was in a hurry to leave.“Call us when you find out. Let’s go Sam.” He and
Agent Collins turned back towards their truck.
Sam slipped a hand into the pocket of his suit. He pulled out a business card,
grinning sheepishly at him. “My cell is on the back. Call me any time.”
And then he was gone.
Gabriel stared after him for a long while, and when he finally turned to get
back to work, Rufus was glaring at him. “What?”
“Don’t you mess with that boy, Novak,” Rufus warned, pulling a body bag out of
his kit. “Singer’ll have your head. Kid’s been through enough.”
“But I-”
“No buts,” Rufus pointed at him. “He lost his fiancee to one of these psychos,”
he indicated the body on the ground. “I’m surprised Bobby even pulled him in
for this. He’ll be back out teaching when this is over.”
It made sense that Sam was Bobby’s protegee. With a curse like the one he was
harboring, he’d be almost unstoppable in the field. Gabriel would have to watch
his back. It was a shame though, he thought, remembering Sam’s smile.
“Fine. No funny business,” Gabriel put a hand over his heart in a mock boy
scout salute. “Scout’s honor.”
Rufus snorted at him. “Scout’s honor, my ass. Now help me with this gurney.”
 
The trip back to the morgue only took a half hour and then, Gabriel spent the
better part of the day doing the dance of his profession, photographing and
cataloging each piece of evidence. There wasn’t a lot left on the body, not
after all the time exposed to the elements. After his initial samples, he
settled down to tweeze the desiccated flesh off the bones.
His thoughts drifted as he started the arduous process.
He’d never seen a monster so small in a person as old as Sam was. The way
Gabriel figured it, the thing inside was something a person was born with,
always there, lurking in the shadows and waiting for the right environment to
thrive. In the little he’d read about serial killers, trauma like physical or
sexual abuse was a common factor. If Sam had been raised in love, the monster
hadn’t been given what it needed to take root inside of him, but it was still
there, waiting.
If he could just let it out, if he could teach him what Lucifer passed on… No,
he told himself. If he wanted to stay free and un-lethally injected, he would
stay as far away from Sam Winchester as possible. Sam Winchester could be his
undoing. Sam Winchester was a trap, even if he didn't know it, death and
captivity packaged as candy.
He saw Sam’s smirk again, and heard the thing inside him, one half of a set
that matched his own, and threw caution to the wind.
Candy was kinda his thing.
                             [serialkillercollage]
End Notes
     Thank you to my lovely Toastiel for beta-ing and cheerleading and
     Mayalaen for her amazing artwork.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!