+1: Don't fool yourself thinking you have a choice (there is something bigger than you)

In the window, there was a sitting figure no one could see, observing the unlikely pair, half amused, half worried. He was smiling mischievously, dim light reflecting in his whiskey-coloured eyes and drawing golden strands in his longish hair. They said about him he could create things out of thin air, that he was enjoying himself while killing people using a slightly twisted irony to do so. They called his kind the Tricksters.

He was around the whole time, even since they had brought Sammish in, bleeding to death and he had watched the young woman offer her blood to a stranger in need, despite her blind boyfriend – running around in a ridiculous black costume, beating up criminals, who the hell did that anyway – protesting. The trickster had followed them to the warehouse, seeing the man almost die, disappearing when he had sensed his wayward brother arriving. Apparently, he had saved the day. Yeah, that was Castiel. He liked him, but his baby bro was so naïve… which was why he would never let Cas meet him, no matter how brilliant he considered himself, knowing the meeting would sure enriched the baby in the trenchcoat.

His favourite boys had left town and this pair of humans stayed behind with nothing but confusing memories, which would make them question everything they knew, no doubt causing them countless nightmares. What else he should have done?

He snapped his fingers once, scary pictures leaving their minds forever, repairing what needed to be repaired, slightly alternating the nurse's memory as well. He snapped them for the second time, creating false memories of ordinary days (as ordinary as it could have been for people like these two dummies and their accompanies), wiping away any evidences of the bizarre meeting. He tilted his head when the girl ran her fingers over the wound the man once had had despite his efforts to wipe the memory away. Damn. He was getting rusty. But she obviously chased away the last fragments of reality (and honestly, what was reality?) by herself. He smiled contentedly. Some things better remained hidden. Like him and his true nature. Or them.

He snapped his fingers for the third time, leaving invisible sigils which would hide them from angels on their ribs, carving a small antipossession symbol into their collarbones as well. There. Much better.

He snapped for the fourth time and he was gone.

Hell's Kitchen sure was an interesting place, few promising talents blossoming. He snapped his fingers for the fifth time, few sparks falling down on the city, just drops of power helping the seeds of extraordinariness to sprout faster. He grinned as the receivers shivered and then he vanished, leaving the whole non-existent story behind.

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Notes:
Uhm. Alright. I'm not sure what that was, but apparently I have a thing for crossovers. And I couldn't resist. Gabriel (the Trickster, the archangel) was a perfect puzzle piece, because with his involvement, we can pretend nothing happened. Ha!

Any feedback is appreciated. Thanks!