Of Books and Gods
Chapter One
By bkw

A totally and completely guilty pleasure fic. This is a slash fan fic. With Gabriel "Loki"/Original Male Character. If that doesn't scare you away, okay, proceed, but you have been warned. :D This was written purely for fun, but I hope some of you can enjoy it too! Excuse the lame title, btw, I couldn't think of anything haha. Also, this is my first (well, sort of) slash story, so be kind. :D I hope it's believable and nice all the same.

This story is set essentially during Season One, in 2005. It does however end approximately during Season Five's premiere, so it's not totally AU...

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Disclaimer: Supernatural © Kripke/CW
Warnings: Gabriel/OMC, slash, minor foul language, permanent injuries, violence, slight AU timeline

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Spring, 2005

He did not begrudge all of humanity. Some humans were decent creatures, who stumbled and rose to an occasion just as often as anything else with free will and half a brain sometimes did. Some people, however, were just born nasty. They didn't care for the sucker who bore the brunt of their nastiness—they just saw the ends justifying the means.

Loki loved those humans best. Not because he liked them, of course; they were just the most fun.

He found them all over the globe, across all of the ages. The modern age was proving to be the most… populated by targets of his teaching methods. Humans were faulty and needed guidance, but some were just so far gone… they were better left as examples for their fellow man to observe.

He didn't pick at random either, the people or places he chose to hang around. After living among the humans for so many centuries, he figured out the best places to catch the worst of people. Wall Street, religious institutions, banks, big business, schools—they were all prime targets for finding the absolute worst humanity had to offer.

He found a college in some obscure Rhode Island city and it was just another perfect location for his lesson making. Jocks, preps, cheaters, womanizers, sluts, backstabbers, lustful professors, liars and creeps—they were all over with a few shining souls in between.

Perfect.

Settling in with as much ease as he always did, Loki set his eyes on his first student and watched the dominos begin to fall.

0000

Mark loved his job. He really, really did. He liked books, old and new, even the newer young adult fiction books that were all about monsters falling in love with dumb chicks apparently. He wasn't a literary critique (or student) by any means, with his love firmly caught up by the music track, but getting a job at Yardley's University library was the best job he could have hoped for.

Still, work was work. It got tiring, especially when he had two midterms plus a theory paper due all next week and he hadn't been able to get a decent night's sleep in over the last couple days. He worked part-time, like other student works, but it all seemed to catch up on him at once.

"You're awfully distracted today," Stacey Gamble said, laughing as she let him check her books out at the counter. She was his lab partner in his environment class and while she was certainly pretty, she was kind of well, annoying.

"What?" he asked, glancing up at her as he punched the various check out codes into the computer.

"In lab," she said, taking her books, smiling. "I thought you were falling asleep right at the table."

Mark smiled tightly. "I've had a rough week getting a good night's sleep," he said, knowing it was best to just keep the conversation going in order to end it without a problem. He did have to work with this woman for the rest of the semester.

Stacey made a sympathetic face, all polite. "Well, I hope you get better," she said, moving away. "We have that test coming up."

"Right, right… well, see you around," he called, waving back at her as she left. He dropped his hand once she turned away completely, feeling drained. He might have loved his job, but he was exhausted.

He was survivor, however; he would persevere. A weathered sophomore student at Yardley University, Mark Berlinsky knew how to handle himself. He was a solid B+ student heading for a degree in music theory and he knew where his two feet were planted, on the ground. He had his own apartment outside campus and he almost never had to call his parents outside of the standard weekend "hello"s. A bad week was nothing.

So, he kept stacking shelves and checking out books, like he was supposed to. He kept the one paper topic on the back of his mind as he went, planning it out mentally so he could get into it right away once he got home.

The only problem that still lay before him was the whole getting home part. His shift ended when the library closed and the last bus out of that area left approximately three minutes later—and it was never late. He had never seen public transportation so flawlessly in action than with that bus. He had walked home many times alone in the dark because of its unnatural punctuality.

As the clock crept toward midnight, Mark planned his escape: through the back exit, around to the front of the library, and down the street to the stop. He could do it. He tried not to appear like he was in a rush as he shut down the front desk, waving at the security guard and walked briskly to the employee lounge to grab his possessions. Bag in hand, he disregarded his polite stroll and jogged toward the exit, counting down minutes as he rushed through the shelves—

"Whoa! Watch it!"

Mark gasped when the floor seemed to shift upwards suddenly when he turned the corner. He stuck his arm out, hit something soft, but then with the other hand managed to grab onto the metal bookshelf. He stopped himself from flying ass-backwards onto the floor, which was, he realized in hindsight, wet and soapy.

"Geez!" Mark fumbled to right himself, sneakers squeaking loudly as he pulled himself off the wet linoleum.

To his left, he heard someone laugh. Flinching, Mark saw a short man with sand-colored hair grinning openly at him with his arms crossed. It took Mark a moment, but he recognized the school's cleaning uniform. A janitor… which explained the bucket, mop and sopping wet floor that almost killed him.

Maybe he did need to start paying more attention to his surroundings.

"You alright there, kiddo?" the janitor asked, clearly amused by Mark's fish-out-of-water impression.

Turning pink undoubtedly, Mark stared at the man, speechless. "Uh… yeah," he managed. He hadn't even seen the other guy there when he turned the corner. He definitely wasn't getting enough sleep.

"I didn't have time to put up the caution signs, so my bad," the janitor continued. He flipped up a bright yellow sign and placed it in the middle of the aisle, flashing Mark a charming smile.

The guy was kind of cute, even if he was probably a good number of years older. Mark watched the man move his gear out of the way, setting to work mopping up the water to avoid more spills. He was shorter than Mark by a few inches and had a strange face, but he wasn't unattractive. Just… different.

Clearing his throat, Mark nodded. "Yeah, no, it's all good," he said. "I should have been watching my feet."

"It's kinda late for you students to be out, isn't it?" the janitor asked, expertly sloshing the floor before draining the mop in the bucket. He moved almost as fluidly as the cleaning solution did across the tile.

"Oh, I work at the front desk," Mark said, adjusting his bag. He was impressed by how cheerful the other man was doing such a menial task. Inspiring. "Student-work program and all."

The janitor smirked up at him, past the mop handle. "Ah, so, what's your area of study?"

"Piano. I mean, music. Uh, music theory." Mark cleared his throat again, feeling incredibly awkward. "Um, I don't recall seeing you around before."

"I'm new, you caught me," the man laughed. He had a nice laugh, one that made Mark smile back. "And music is always cool. I'm more of a harp kinda guy, or maybe the trumpet… but piano's nice."

Mark smiled, almost taking a step to the side to leave. He didn't want to miss his bus, or seem like a total creep to a stranger he might potentially have to work with.

Before he could turn away, the janitor suddenly put his hand out. Mark blinked, surprised, but the man in front of him just grinned, completely at ease.

"Name's Richard Dwight," he said.

Mentally stumbling, Mark barely remembered to stick his hand out and return the handshake. "Mark Berlinsky," he said, taken back. "Uh, nice to meet you."

"This place seems like a good place to work," Richard continued, releasing Mark's hand. He had a firm shake and Mark's hand tingled once he let go. Richard picked his mop back up and leaned against it. "I could get used to it."

"Ha, that's good. It's a nice place," Mark replied, chuckling. He couldn't help but feel calmer. He liked this guy.

Richard waved his hand suddenly. "Well, don't stay up too late, kid. I know you probably have school work to do," he said, glancing at him once more with a dazzling smile. "I guess I'll be seeing you around."

Mark blinked. "Uh, yeah." He waved awkwardly, moving backwards, mindful of the water. "Good night."

"'Night," Richard called back, washing the floors with much more cheer than Mark ever expected from a janitor.

He didn't find it strange that he did in fact make the bus, which apparently was running ten minutes late against all odds. He thanked God for small miracles and went home, feeling better already.

0000

He had classes the next day at eight AM. Mark rushed through breakfast (energy drink and toast; breakfast of champions) and jogged to catch the early bus in. He had about an hour to spare before heading to his first class, so he planned on using every last minute of that time to work on his essay. He had slept miserably, as usual, but he didn't give into the temptation of a nap.

Humming to himself, Mark thought about a lot of things as he walked briskly across the deserted campus. His mother wanted him home for the weekend for a cousin's birthday. He had to memorize a new piece for his next private practice and he hadn't even touched the sheet music yet. The exams and essay too—it was all building up. Mark tried not to let the sensation of overwhelming stress take hold, but it was getting there. He was certain that only a few more incidents would be his breaking point, but he wasn't there yet. He had time to get things back under—

A scream—a woman's scream—made Mark flinch and look up in shock. The screaming continued and was, at first, almost coming from all angles across the empty campus. Alarmed, Mark realized the screaming was coming from the side of the university student center, only a block ahead. There were hardly any people around and he knew the nearest security station was two blocks back, so he broke into a run, toward the source of the hysterical female screaming.

He didn't know what to expect, tearing across the short lawn. He wasn't much of a fighter, but if he could scare an attacker off, that would be have to be enough.

Mark stopped running the moment he turned the corner and saw a young woman braced against the brick exterior of the student center. At the other end of the alley, he saw another group of people converging on the site, all wearing the same look of alarm. The screaming student fell back, scrambling toward Mark, clearly terrified by something.

Then, Mark looked up and realized what she was screaming about, the sight almost hidden by a row of trashcans and a parked car.

Like a flag made of blood, guts and hair, Stacey Gamble was hanging three feet in the air impaled on a hockey stick.

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End Chapter One.

Next: Mark and Richard hang out and more people die. As expected.

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A/Ns: This was totally boring for a first chapter, I know, but don't worry. :D Action is on the way (as well as awkward man love).