A/N: Okay. I should not, in any way, shape or form be posting the first chapter of this story. I should be shot for starting this while I have so many open projects.
But...
I really, really wanted to start this.
So, here is the deal. My other open projects all have completed outlines and update schedules, and they get first dibs on my resources and time. This story will be long and really good ( I hope. Come on, Winchesters plus Trickster equals Hells Yes!) It will update slowly at first. This project was planned to take the place of Prisoner of War when POW wrapped up. However, at the request of several readers, I have reworked that story's outline in order to extend it. I love that people want my stories to be longer, and I will always oblige if there is any way to do so, but I was a little sad that it meant putting off the debut of Tuesday's Child, because I have really been looking forward to it.
So I thought I would go ahead and get this out. It will update slowly, maybe twice or three times a month, I'm guessing, until I wrap up Prisoner of War, then Tuesday's Child will take POW's place in my update schedule/rotation. For now, this is definitely a story you should slap an alert on if you like it, because while I am stoked about it, I am committed to finishing my other, older AU's, and they come first. I owe that to my readers.
On the plus side, the slow updates mean I will have tons of time to take readers preferences into account for this story. I'm pretty sure this chapter will get you up to speed with the basic premise, and if you read any of my other work, you know my MO is to rework canon cases and put new twists on them. I think a hunter Dean, Trickster Angel, and Bad Ass, raised by said Trickster Angel Sam could be all kinds of fun, and I love prompts and ideas from readers. So if you have an idea for an episode remix featuring these three in some combination, leave it in a review. Since the outline isn't complete for this story yet, I have lots of leeway to try and honor reader requests.
Now, for the less fun part. I do not participate in the Wincest/Destiel war. I write brother fics. I read smut, but I do not write it. My stories are not romances, are not meant to be romances.
Also, I obviously have to uphold to the basic Sam and Dean versus Heaven/Hell/Lucifer theme, as that's integral to the premise of this project.
Oh, and while I'm not against some John bashing, I not expecting that to be too integral to this story, and I will never, ever brother bash. My stories are safe places for fans of either brother (though, I admit, I'm a Sam girl.)
Other than that, let me know your ideas. I always do my best to respond. If you want a better example of my writing style, please check out my other stories. I write canon, angst, fluff AND and am currently writing a Dark-side Sam fic, which I am told is a little unusual.
I apologize for the world's longest Author's Note, but bear with me, since the situation is a little unusual for me.
As Always,
EverReader
Disclaimer: Not my sandbox. Mine is shaped like a turtle.
Tuesday's Child
"Lost Boy"
Gabe walked into the empty warehouse, coming to stand before his corpse, framed by the outline of wings, scorched straight into the concrete.
Well, maybe not his corpse, corpse.
He hadn't been entirely sure the copy would be good enough to fool his older brother.
A part of him had hoped he'd never need to find out.
But millennia spent locked in the cage had changed the brother Gabe remembered, just as Lucifer and Michael's fight had changed their family, and even Heaven itself.
He'd pulled out of the politics thousands of years ago, after their father had disappeared.
He'd known what his siblings were up to, their plotting and planning, their back-handed ways of helping the demons free his older brother, simply to fulfill a bedtime story their father had told them to lessen the sting of Lucifer's descent.
He'd vowed never to take part in this battle, to never choose sides, to harm his siblings on either side.
To let the cards fall where they would.
And yet...
He'd been to one sent to Joseph, when Mary was pregnant with Jesus.
He'd watched over that child, the only one of his kind to ever be born.
He'd watched him struggle and strive.
He'd watched him be sacrificed to try and save this world that Michael and Lucifer seemed determined to destroy, simply to prove which one was right, when it the end, their battle would simply prove who was left.
And now it was happening all over again, with Sam Winchester as the star of the Apocalypse Games.
Sam's choices would either save the world, or break it, but Gabe wondered if there really was a choice.
For all Sam and Dean's arguments to the contrary, Sam had the deck stacked against him pretty high.
It was obvious Gabe couldn't take on Lucifer directly.
Was he willing to take more drastic measures?
Lucifer was unfortunately powerful in his second choice vessel, how much more powerful would he be if Sam said yes to him?
Anna had tried destroying Sam, but she had made the mistake of going too far back.
Time travel was tricky, even for an angel. Some events were so pivotal they became fixed. Sam Winchester had to be born, as did his brother Dean.
These things could not be changed.
Furthermore, Gabe was fairly certain he could not change the fact that no matter what actions he took, Sam Winchester was destined to be infected with Demon Blood.
He was born to be the one to make the decision that would save the world.
Or he'd be the one to end it.
But everything in between was just small change, on a universal level, at least.
Destiny didn't give a crap what happened to him between the time he was infected and the time he had to decide whether to say yes to Lucifer.
That was why all the other demons and angels were able to interfere with the Winchesters lives as much as they already had.
It wasn't much, but the wriggle room was there.
Only an inch, but really, did Gabe need any more than that?
He was the trickster, after all.
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Dean looked over at Sam worriedly. He'd been silent since they'd dropped Kali off (and wasn't that too bizarre to even think about), since they'd stopped and played Gabriel's message.
"Talk to me, Sam. Tell me what's going on in that freakishly large head of yours." He ordered gruffly.
"How the hell can we win?" Sam said, the words dropping like small bombs in the silence of the cab.
"No. No. You can't think like that, Sam. You and me, we are in this together, and we will figure it out. You saw the video. All we have to do is get the rings-"
Sam interrupted him then, "You mean steal the rings, from the two remaining horseman, one of whom is death, so I'm not sure how that works, then use them to create a key, and then ask Satan to kindly return to hell. Yeah, I saw the video too, Dean."
"We can't think like that, Sam. We gotta keep our heads in the game. We have a plan, and we will find a way to make it work, Sam. You and me. Just like it always should have been-" Dean turned to gauge Sam's expression.
What he saw instead had him slamming on the brakes, the Impala's tires screeching as the car fishtailed to a halt.
"Sam! Sam! SAMMY!" He cried, looking around frantically.
Sam was gone.
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Gabe slouched at his desk, idly watching the security cameras. The gig at the animal testing facility had been fun at first, but now he was getting bored.
It was time to move on, find a new project.
"About that..." A familiar voice said, and Gabe looked up in surprise as he watched himself walk into the room.
"Damn, I look good." He said, smiling. "But I'm pretty sure massive time-travel isn't a part of our witness protection agenda. Care to clue yourself in?"
The other Gabe cocked his head at him. "I hope your ready for this..." He said, reaching out an laying a hand on his past-self's forehead.
Gabe squeezed his eyes shut under the onslaught of images, thoughts, memories and ideas. The memory melding spell was so powerful it threatened to shred his vessel's mind, but finally, the torrent slowed.
He breathed deeply, opening his eyes.
His future self had disappeared, which meant his plan had worked.
Or would work, anyway.
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Azazel stood over the crib of Sam Winchester, grinning in dark triumph as his blood dripped into the infant's mouth.
He had a good feeling about this one, oh yes.
With the sweet older brother sleeping just down the hall, Sam Winchester was just...perfect.
The culmination of two of the strongest bloodlines in the human world, Dean's body would be the perfect host for Michael.
And now, thanks to Azazel's little deal with Mary coming to fruition, Sam was all set to grow up and say yes to Lucifer.
Of course, he'd need a little nudging in the proper direction.
The child had been silent this whole time, staring at Azazel with wide eyes.
No matter.
An infant's cries were easy enough to fake.
He flicked his fingers over at the baby monitor.
Soon enough, he heard the soft pad of feet come into the bedroom.
"John, is he hungry?"
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Dean was frightened.
He'd heard Mommy scream, and then Daddy.
He could still hear Daddy screaming, and now Sammy was crying too.
Thick smoke was filling the hall from Sammy's room as Dean ran towards Sammy's room, and Dean knew what that meant too, he'd learned it from the fire fighters who'd come to visit his preschool.
Their house was one fire, and they needed to get out.
"Daddy!" He cried, as his father appeared in the doorway of Sammy's nursery.
"Dean! Take your brother and go outside, as fast as you can. Don't look back. GO, NOW!" John commanded, but Dean was scared.
He wanted Mommy.
John pushed Sammy into Dean's arms, and they wrapped around the bundle protectively.
Dean wasn't supposed to carry Sammy by himself, Mommy had said so, and now he understood why, as Sam's weight almost overbalanced him.
But Daddy had already disappeared again, and Sammy was still crying, and now Dean could feel the heat of the fire.
Dean ran.
He ran so fast the he and Sam nearly tumbled down the stairs. He had to set Sam down to use both hands to turn the lock on the front door. Picking his still crying brother up, he ran outside to the big tree, just like Mommy had said to if there was ever an emergency.
Mommy had told Dean to run to the tree, and she and Daddy would come to get him.
He looked down at his soot-stained brother. Sam's eyes were wide, his bottom lip quivering.
"It's okay, Sammy. I got you." He whispered.
A shadowed moved in front of him then, blocking the light from the fire.
Dean looked up, startled as the man came towards him.
"It's okay, Dean. I'm here to help." The man said reassuringly.
Dean hugged Sam tighter to his chest as the man reached out and touched two fingers to Dean's forehead.
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John ran outside, heart pounding, not even noticing the tears running down his cheeks.
Mary.
Mary was dead.
But not just dead, she had been killed.
Something had killed his wife and hung her on the ceiling, and then his Sam's room had burst into flames.
Sam.
Dean.
Was that thing, whatever it was, outside with his children, right now?
He spied Dean under the tree, exactly where he should be, and his heart eased a little, only to resume it's frantic pounding when he spied Sammy's blanket, lying crumpled on the ground at Dean's feet.
"Dean! Where's your brother? Where's Sammy." He cried, coming to kneel before his son, large hands gripping tiny shoulders. Dean's wide, uncomprehending eyes met his.
"Where's Mommy?" Dean cried, tears slipping down his cheeks.
John shook him a little, looking around in a panic.
"Dammit, Dean, answer me! Where's your brother? Where's Sammy?"
Dean looked up at his father, confusion evident on his face.
"Who's Sammy?"