Chapter 7: What A Tangled Web the 4th Wall Makes

April 7th, 2008

Seven months.

Crowley hasn't seen Harry for seven months.

Granted, he has talked to him over the phone and texted Gabriel from time to time to see how they have been. He started to feel like some sort of airplane parent who was away for a year working elsewhere to support the family. Except he worked straight from of Hell.

The irony was not lost on him or anyone else.

With how aggressive Moose and Squirrel were in their search for answers, he had to do damage control and make sure Dean's contract would run out soon without interference. The Winchesters have been doing their best to get out of the deal – better than most anyway. They have come close a few times, but Crowley made sure that certain individuals got in their way.

Normally, the angel would be like an angst teen, writing with the damn emoticons and improper grammar as often as possible. Since the incident with the Winchesters in Springfield, Ohio last February and the time loop he put on Sam in Broward County, Florida a few months back, he started to become more…introverted. (1)

Gabriel was never truly involved in his role as a Trickster, but he made a few kills on-and-off to keep up appearances. Ever since he almost broke Sam Winchester, he stopped going out; focused more on Harry since then, so… positive there.

From what he could gather, Gabriel has been VERY involved in Harry's training. He's taken him everywhere for teaching – California, Michigan, Pennsylvania, Florida, New York, Ohio – and based on his stories, made a decent kill count. Nothing crazy; Gabriel made sure to stick to the basic monsters – vampires, werewolves, shapeshifters, djinn, ghosts and the like. He did make a terrible mistake when they went to North Dakota and ran into a Wendigo. Since Gabriel was teaching Harry and had to keep his distance, a fight with a nearly unkillable speed demon almost didn't end well. (2)

Crowley was excited to find out, however, that the panic of the near death had caused Harry to awaken his abilities in pyrokinesis.

He shish-kebabed that aged withered husk of a woman.

Crowley was so happy to hear Harry's side of the story that he almost cried tears – in Hell – during a board meeting.

Thankfully, the feeling of paternal joy was quickly overridden by the sense of existential euphoria when he got the Colt.

The almighty Colt.

A modified Colt Paterson 1836 ball and cap gun that fired metallic cartridges with Psalm 23:4 inscribed on the barrel with a pentagram on the old handle.

"I fear no evil" indeed.

How in the world Samuel Colt figured out how to make this thing – and its thirteen bullets – was beyond even the King of the Crossroads. If the tales were true, the bullets could kill anything in existence. Some debated that there should be something out there that the gun couldn't kill, but no one has ever been able to confirm it. With the newly minted bullets that were left from when Bela Talbot gave it to him – sorry, to him disguised as Lilith – to try to get out of her deal.

The Hellhounds enjoyed how she tasted – it's just so rare to get anyone to make a deal younger than twenty. (3)

Crowley knew that his cabin in Chicago was the perfect hiding place for the gun. Plus, he could ask Gabriel if the rumors regarding it were true.

It was a brisk 33 degrees when Crowley teleported to Massachusetts – it only got colder when he entered the cabin.

The cabin was the same. No mess, no odd smells, nothing out of the ordinary. Gabriel was on the couch watching something on the laptop – this was seeming oddly familiar. Gabriel wasn't even surprised when he saw Crowley.

Didn't even get a chance to say 'Hello' before the angel saw the gun.

"Is that what I think it is?"

Crowley gave a glance at the weapon in his hands, basking in the gloating that was to come. "Oh, this little thing? Yeah, it just a gun I happened to procure at my latest deal from a very desperate young thing. Such a shame she never got it in writing."

Gabriel could only whistle while waving his hand to get the weapon. Crowley quickly tossed it over – without the bullets of course.

"You really thought I was going to shoot you with the new bullets Bobby made with that demon chick? I thought you trusted me."

"One, I do trust you – I just didn't bother refilling the chamber yet. Two, how did you know about the bullets? And three, where's Harry?"

Gabriel was turning the gun over and over his hands, looking down into the barrel, "You know, we Archangels never really bothered checking on humans much, with Prophets being the obvious exceptions. But every few decades some would catch our attention. I personally favored Da Vinci and Tesla, but Samuel Colt was found by Michael entirely by accident. You see, Michael sensed the death of one of the last Phoenix's back in 1861 in Sunrise, Wyoming – what Michael was doing there was beyond me. So, he plopped down there and found out that this mortal made a gun that could kill anything. He approved of its purpose, so he didn't really bother asking too many questions, like what happened to the ashes of the Phoenix or how the gun was made. He did, however, find out that Colt had help making the gun and that the stranger didn't give him a name. He also figured out that such a powerful weapon had a significant weakness…" (4)

Crowley caught the implication, "So the rumors that it can't kill certain beings are true."

The angel nodded, "Undoubtedly. It was a man-made weapon, so no matter what magic's were used, it is still limited in power. Could probably count on one hand the things it can't kill. Definitely include God, Death, Eve – although she can be killed by Phoenix Ash – maybe even us Archangels."

Crowley raised an eyebrow at that, "Even Lucifer?"

Gabriel was fidgeting the gun in one hand, spinning the open chamber, "Honestly couldn't tell you. He is my brother, but also a fallen angel. With the amount of demonic energies that have bathed him over the millennia, it possible – I wouldn't test it, though."

Crowley asked for the gun back from the angel "I'll put it in the safe up in the study until it is needed. You still haven't answered my question."

Gabriel closed his laptop as he started getting up from the couch, "What question?"

"WHERE. IS. HARRY?"

Gabriel tried his best not to panic chuckle.

He failed.

Crowley put his head into his arms, "You broke him again didn't you?"

"NO, NOT THIS TIME!" Gabriel quickly got off the couch in terror.

Crowley only sat on the sofa and crossed his legs, "So…tell me then, what happened?"

Crowley expected that Gabriel screwed up worse than Harry's previous excursion to Las Vegas. He expected Gabriel – an angel – to get on his knees and plead for mercy from him – a demon.

This was not one of those situations.

"He is having an existential crisis."

Crowley looked up at Gabriel, only confusion was on his face.

Gabriel just sighed and went to get a book of the cabinet in the corner. He tossed it toward Crowley, who noted the name, "'Supernatural' by Carver Edlund…These guys look like…wait…"

Crowley got bug-eyed, looked at Gabriel, who nodded, indicating that the demon was correct.

Gabriel, during the demon's moment of clarity, got both of them a bottle of scotch and a pair of glasses.

Both drank their servings in one shot.

Gabriel poured both of them a second shot, "There is a backstory here to make sense of the events that led to this."

Crowley just laughed as he put down the book, "There better be some insane amount of events that led from this to whatever Harry is doing?"

Gabriel pointed up, "He is in his room upstairs – he is actually making a spectacle out of it."

Crowley nodded, "So what is the story?"

Gabriel just swirled the scotch in his cup, "Happened during one of our training trips. The boy caught wind of what Hunters are, we got to talking, and I told him about my run-in with the Winchesters. I must have been very descriptive regarding how they looked because a few weeks later he found that book in some second-hand shop in Kentucky. He managed to track down the writer – whose real name is Chuck Shurley – through some… methods I would rather not think too closely about…"

"He got better with the voice and eyes, didn't he?'

Gabriel nodded at Crowley's deduction, "He is currently on hypnosis-level strength, but he is getting there."

"Hypnosis?"

"Requires subject to be weak-willed and done at the right moment – same as hypnosis." (5)

Crowley nodded, "Go on."

"Basically, he tracked him down to some part of Virginia, found his house, and instead found the Prophet of the Lord."

Crowley did a spit-take. Gabriel poured him another shot.

"You should know that I wasn't with him and that he told me because he saw him through his Sight. Didn't even bother talking to the guy. Just saw him stumble out of the house drunk to get the mail – nearly blinded himself."

"How…What…How did you not know where or who the Prophets are? Aren't you supposed to know these things?"

Gabriel took another sip of his scotch, "Angels get the names of all the prophets written into their brains, but that was implemented long after the Archangels were made. I've been out of the loop too long anyway. But after he described all the signs – which I won't tell you – and I confirmed it, he kind of… got a little loopy."

Crowly just breathed out, "How loopy?"

Gabriel finished his third glass, "Over the few months, I've been using television, books, and music to teach Harry about humanity. Been using the same logic to teach Harry to justify each of his kills and use of magic – yes, he figured out magic, we will discuss this later – to build him up morally. If he can't validate his actions, he has no right to do them – think of it as arguing both sides of an issue. In actuality, I've been just making him Genre Savvy. To beat you to the punch, a genre-savvy character doesn't necessarily know what story is taking place, but they know from similar stories and events what worked and what didn't. "

Crowley just got more confused, "Just… why?"

"Because when you have been around as long as I have, you start to see the outcomes before they even happen because it's the same pattern over and over again. I want Harry to have the same advantage. Unfortunately, since I can't shove millennium upon millennium of experience down his throat, television and literature were a better alternative. Just imagine it – being able to know when a plan will fail just because one has seen it a dozen of times in a show. To be able to gauge an individual based on their tropes and actions. To be that snarky kid in the corner, looking upon the main characters, holding a lampshade over their ignorance of the situation and hold the power of foresight upon them! To take advantage of the tropes presented and not be the black character killed off in a horror movie!"

"Gabriel, you're starting to shout," Crowley had a panicked look as he stared at the angel currently standing on the couch, "but I see where you are going with this. That still doesn't explain what happened."

"I blame metaphysics and giving Harry the works of Kant, Moliere, and Diderot to read. The sight of an individual documenting and selling the life of two people like a God made something bend in Harry's mind. Combine that with what I have been trying to teach him through entertainment, and it stretched his mind to the limit. It didn't help when he found the 'Evil Overlord List" online and is now studying it." (6)

Crowley couldn't help but snicker, "There is an actual list of thing do as an evil overlord?"

"Nope – it's a list of cliché blunders of super villains to avoid. Harry decided to go into the family business, so he figured he better be prepared rather than uninformed."

Crowley was now just trying not to laugh, "Seriously? Give me one."

Gabriel took a sheet out of his pocket, took put a pair of reading glasses and coughed for comic effect, "The artifact which is the source of my power will not be kept on the Mountain of Despair beyond the River of Fire guarded by the Dragons of Eternity. It will be in my safe-deposit box. The same applies to the object which is my one weakness."

"That an actual rule? That's just common sense – you never leave your weakness for others to find."

Gabriel looked up from the list, "What about the bones of your human body?"

"Anonymity is the best secrecy there is – no one knows my human name, only the era and location of my death. Unless someone manages to slip up, they will never burn my bones."

The angel shrugged, "Seems like tempting fate but alright. Here's another one: 'I will dress in bright and cheery colors, and so throw my enemies into confusion.'"

"Seems a bit redundant – the heroes always expect the unexpected from the villain."

Gabriel was just exasperated at this, "Fair point. 'I will not grow a goatee. In the old days, they made you look diabolic. Now they just make you look like a disaffected member of Generation X.'"

Crowley sat quietly for a moment, while Gabriel glared at the demon before him, pouring him another shot.

"I'll just grow a beard then…"

Gabriel maniacally cackled, "YOU WANTED TO GROW A GOATEE, DIDN'T YOU? You were gonna be a victim of the most cliché of villain stereotypes!"

Crowley got a somewhat freaked look on his face, "SHUT UP, GABRIEL! Give me that list, I want to see it!"

Gabriel swiftly put it away from the demon's reach, "Later. Let me show what's going on with Harry."

Both adults went up to the second floor to Harry's room. There wasn't any noise coming from the room – only a weird sigil Crowley didn't recognize painted on the door.

Gabriel noted Crowly's confusion, "Something the kid gobbled up to soundproof the room."

"Gobbled up?"

"Sorry, is that not grammatically correct? 'Made it' seems too heavy-handed and 'created' implies that he had nothing to work with. I initially put up an African tribal mark that was used by their hunters for stealth, but he added stuff to it. Probably saw what it did with his Sight and modified it." (7)

Crowley started examining it, "That looks like Enochian, maybe some Chinese characters in the corner…is that an equation in the center?"

Gabriel nodded, "Yeah, he lost me there as well, but he sees the code, and we don't. Rather not mess with it if I were you – it already bothers the hell out of me."

Crowley just got more mixed up, "Why?"

"My senses keep telling me it is something seriously… foreign."

"Not 'wrong'? Why 'foreign'?"

"It's not something from outside our universe. It just feels like it was salvaged from spare parts and built it into some infernal machine."

"There's that Frankenstein analogy again…" Crowley couldn't help but note how this kept coming up, "Seems like we fell victims to some trope a well."

"Don't bring it up around Harry - he's getting crazy enough as it is."

Gabriel put his hand on the door handle and was about to open the door, "Oh, I should also mention that Harry somehow figured out how to make the inside of his room bigger than the outside dimensions…"

Now Crowly was finally annoyed, "You made him watch 'Doctor Who,' didn't you?"

Gabriel nodded, "I made him watch 'Doctor Who'"

"Did he prefer Tom Baker?"

Gabriel shook his head side-to-side, "He likes David Tennant more… Peter Davison is in second place."

Crowley's eyebrows shot up, "Really? Tenth I can understand, but fifth over fourth?"

"Hey, don't judge – you always cheered for the Master."

"I still can't believe you made me watch the show…"

"You loved every moment of it. Now, let us enter Harry's Sanctum Santorum."

Crowley did not expect what he saw in the kid's room. Sure, he expected some sort of mess, maybe some stuff lying around, some gunk stuck to the ceiling.

He did not anticipate all the pictures, articles, and multicolored strings connecting everything together.

He didn't believe that they were in a white cube. He also didn't expect the room to now be bigger than the cabin the room was in – what were they in, a tesseract?

But there he was, standing on some floating pedestal, checking a laptop, taking out different strings, connecting things back and forth across the walls in the room. Even the walls that were just levitating in the air.

He took a look down – yes, down, since the entry to the room was in the middle of the wall – onto the floor, which was covered in so many different runes and diagrams that managed to stretch against the other walls and the ceiling.

Gabriel just gave Crowley a chuckle at his panic, "Yeah, almost fell in like Wile E. Coyote the first time. Very 'Rainman' isn't it?"

Crowley was just flabbergasted by it all, "I thought you didn't teach him any magic? What's all of this then?"

"Idiot savant."

"Idiot what now?"

Gabriel called up two flying pedestals so that they could use them, "Just step on them and think where to go. So anyway… he is like an artist painting with no foundation and stumbling onto masterpieces. I would like to say that his Sight does all the work, but that stopped being the case a long time ago. I didn't teach him anything – no book, no monologs, no slip-ups – but he apparently managed to get enough from the stuff they sell in the occult section of Barnes & Nobles. I did, however, need to teach him how to manipulate energies for pyrokinesis."

Crowley just couldn't believe any of this, "That's it?"

Gabriel nodded, "Yep. From that little foundation, he managed to figure all of this out. Like Srinivasa Ramanujan, he had no formal training yet managed to discover everything that took centuries for others. This will definitely come back to bite him in the ass when he starts learning the actual laws, but it nice to see him play by no one's rules. He is officially a Cloudcuckoolander. Trust me, I asked him to explain how he made the magic for this room. All he did was look around, and told me that the bending of the numbers seemed obvious."

Crowly was doing his best not to open his jaw in shock-and-awe.

Crowley took another look at some of the pictures hanging on the walls. Hannibal Lecter, Dexter Morgan, Darth Vader, Grand Admiral Thrawn, Professor Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes, Jean-Loup Verdier, Gentleman Johnnie Marcone, Troy Phelan, Garak… (8) he was covering a broad spectrum of characters, some he didn't even know.

Gabriel and Crowley were doing their best to make sure not to rip any of the yarn hanging in the air, but it was difficult at best. Harry somehow just managed to fly around without any issue, pulling a rainbow variety of strings from one wall to another.

"In case you are wondering, he is psychoanalyzing and trope-defining every villain and hero character under the sun. You fall under Noble Demon, by the way."

Crowley wasn't actually hearing Gabriel as he finally got a good look at Harry after all the months.

Not much actually changed physically. He got a tan now, so him wearing a tee-shirt and sports pants actually worked. His hair was longer, he was leaner, hands were covered in calluses, the glasses were new… He looked more like some Ph.D. candidate turned kid than an escaped patient from a mental asylum.

"The glasses aren't prescription – he wears them so that using his Sight doesn't tax him after long periods."

"Anything else I should know?"

At this point, Harry finally noticed the adults in the room, "Hey, Uncle Gabe. Hey, Dad. You're finally back. Are you prepared for your promotion in May?"

This caught Gabriel and Crowley off-guard. Crowley was already King of the Crossroads; the only position higher was…

"Harry, what promotion? The only thing I have coming up is that Dean Winchester's contract is due on May 2nd?"

Harry twitched a little before chuckling, "No, no, not this May. Maybe two years from now you'll be promoted – after Lilith dies and Lucifer get locked-up. Have to break the seals first, though, don't know how long that will take. All I know is that it will happen in May."

Crowly just looked at Gabriel, "Like I said, he's a little loopy."

Harry was just connecting more lines as he mumbled, "The first Seal breaks when the first righteous man sheds blood in Hell…And it is written, that the first demon shall be the last Seal… Has to be the raising of Death, extinction events, blindness, maybe killing of Reapers as well…have to introduce the Horsemen somehow…" (9)

Gabriel finally caught on what Harry was implying, but Crowley asked, "Is he…is he a freaking PROPHET?"

Gabriel just started to sweat and chuckle, "No, just very well informed and researched. He is talking about the 66 Seals for Lucifer's Cage."

"Weren't there over 600 locks?" All demons were aware of the cage, but no one has actually been able to open it.

"Wait, a year to date from the opening of the gate and a righteous man… SON OF A… That bitch is playing me!"

Gabriel only stared at Crowley while Harry answered, "You didn't have to sleep with Lilith. Also, get ready for the boys to find out about you after Lilith dies – they are gonna need the Colt to kill Lucifer."

Both adults said in unison, "Lucifer is going to be released?"

"Yeah, should be obvious now. The angels are indirectly gonna help Lilith start Armageddon since Uriel is gonna be in charge. Some angel is going rebel and help the Winchesters stop it, though – don't know who, though… my money is for the angel of Thursday for some reason." (10)

Gabriel finally jumped in, "Why would an angel gonna go against the will of Heaven?"

Harry closed his laptop in confusion, "To introduce a new character, expand the universe, and plot development, of course."

Crowley finally caught on, "This isn't a story Harry – the Winchesters aren't some main characters in a television soap opera."

Harry just looked at Crowly wide-eyed before he started to laugh out loud. "Well, of course not! That would mean everything I am doing here would be breaking the 4th wall, and that this – where we are - isn't reality. I am just taking a guess here based on what I can gather. What do you think I am – crazy? Besides, if anything, the Winchesters would be a show on the CW. Besides, all this trope nonsense is more of a momentary intrest of knowledge then an obscession. I'll grow out of ti eventually."

"You had me fooled for the last few weeks," Gabriel stated as he was wiping off his sweat, "but you may be on to something… Dean would be the breaking of the first seal."

"You mean Squirrel? How in the hell is he a righteous man?" Crowley had his intel on Dean. He was an emotionally stunted, womanizing, alcoholic, killer. To justify him as a righteous man…

"As written by Albertus Magnus: 'He was a righteous man. Heaven has blessed him with clarity of vision in matters of good and evil. His judgment was absolute. His compassion was without boundaries, his mercy was divine mercy, and his anger was the wrath of God.' Rather appropriate for Michael's perfect vessel."

Crowley and Gabriel said in unison again, "Wait, WHAT?"

"It makes sense if you think about it. The parallels between Dean and Sam is the same as with Cain and Able as well as Michael and Lucifer: The older brother following father's orders while the younger chooses to rebel. Their father was probably a descended of Cain anyway…"

Gabriel was sweating again, "Why did I leave the scotch downstairs… I expected you to tell Crowley how you classified villains under new categories, not about THE FREAKIGN END OF THE WORLD!"

Harry just started taking off his glasses, "Oh, this? I am finishing with this – give me three more weeks. You can start teaching magic afterward, Dad. And besides, Lucifer only wins if we do nothing."

This caught Crowley off-guard – for hopefully the last time, "Wait, are you saying you want me to end the deal, so Dean will live?"

"No, Dean has to go to hell and Lilith has to die and Lucifer has to be released. The strings… the strings say that they must happen – fixed points and all… IT'S THE DETAILS THAT MATTER!," Harry was clinching and pulling the adults out of the room towards the door, "At some point, Dean will be released from Hell by an angel who will help them after he brakes the 1st seal. Then Azazel's modification for Sam will star to kick in…"

"Modifications?"

"Yeah, you know, the whole demon blood thing? You're gonna have to find someone to watch over Sam after Dean dies – if he is like his family, he'll probably star drinking."

"Why demon blood?"

"Because no vessel can contain Lucifer if it isn't fortified by demon blood, even if it is his perfect vessel – don't interrupt. Gabriel, at some point you are going have to give them some shpiel about 'the roles they were born to play.' Use my argument if you want – just add some pizzaz! You already set the foundation by making Sam repeatedly watch Dean die in that 'Mystery Spot' place in Florida. You have a foot in the door in screwing with them." Harry waved his hands flamboyantly for emphasis as he let the adults out of his room, taking the pedestals with him.

Gabriel was catching on to what Harry was doing, "And then what – are they gonna end the Apocalypse?"

"Don't know how that ends. Probably end up killing Sam since he is gonna lock himself in Lucifer's Cage. Don't really know what happens after that – seems like one of those big final episodes of the series. Dean will probably stop being a Hunter – he'll settle down, start a family."

Now Crowley finally latched on, "Ah, now I get it. If we play our cards right, Gabriel and I win without lifting a finger."

Harry raised a finger, "Uncle Gabe wins – in the long run, he is still going to be in hiding, but you are going be the poster boy for Hell. Better find a backup plan for controlling the kids if you want your hide to be safe. Try doing it through their father figure – Bobby, right? – and you are secure, Dad. Now, while I enjoyed our talk, I have to finish my project. In the words of Bobby Singer, 'Leave me alone, you idjits.' Love you guys!"

Harry closed the door at that. There would have been a loud slamming sound, but the sigil took care of that. Gabriel and Crowley were both confused – enlightened, but confused.

Crowley leaned over to the angel, "Have you tried giving him something to mellow him out?"

Gabriel just poured himself another glass of scotch – how did he get it so fast? – and just sighed, "He's too young for weed, and his metabolism will get rid of conventional medicine too quickly. I say just let him be – he will be done in three weeks. As long as he leaves the room to eat, I say enjoy the silence and peace. It's not like he is planning to go anywhere."

Both Crowley and Gabriel started going downstairs when the demon remembered his previous inquiry, "I thought you would get him some stuff to personalize his room."

"That wasn't his room. He 'acquired' the other three rooms as part of his bedroom set. One has weapons, one has books, and one is everything else."

"Where's his bed?"

"In the weapons room."

"Good man – has his priorities straight."

Both sat on the couch again before Gabriel asked, "More scotch?"

Crowley held up his glass, "Make it a double."

May 2nd, 2008

"You said he would be finished in three weeks. It's been four."

Gabriel just shrugged as he was preparing the meats on the patio. It was a happy occasion for Crowley. Everything went exactly as Harry 'predicted' and with Dean in Hell, it was now just a matter of waiting.

Gabriel was wearing a 'Kiss the Cook' hat, but Crowley wasn't biting, "So did you check the cage? Are the seals broken yet?"

"I checked. It's got security around it who work for Lilith and Lucifer is clearly restless. I gotta say, I don't know how Harry saw this coming, but we will have to start getting proactive soon…"

Harry burst out of the cabin as Crowley was speaking, "FINISHED! And leave Moose alone! Uncle Gabe, did you use the honey sauce? GIVE ME THE RIBS!" Harry raised his fist in the air for emphasis.

Crowley at least noticed that Harry was considerate enough to wash up and put on something new since he last saw him. He got a distinct impression last time that hygiene wasn't his biggest priority.

Gabriel was apparently used to this kind of dramatic behavior, "Medium or rare?"

Harry took off his glasses like some t.v detective before saying, "You have to ask?"

Gabriel just smiled and nodded while Harry went up to Crowley who was still in his suit, "Really Dad? We are outside on a patio with Uncle Gabe and me dressed for the occasion, and you are in a suit?"

"I am a demon. Demons don't do shorts. I am not some dandy," deadpanned Crowley.

"Could have fooled me, Dad. But seriously, leave Dean as is for like, the next three months."

Crowley already set up a torture schedule and place just for Dean, "Why three months?"

Harry gave his Dad 'the look' again, "Because three is a magic number and how long it will take Squirrel to finally snap. Make sure to put Alastair as his torturer."

'How did you even…Never mind, I should expect no less from you at this point - have to get someone else to torute the Dursley's though. I found a demon to watch over Sam by the name of Ruby. He's already started to try to make deals with some of my workers, but no one is buying."

Harry nodded as he sat down in a patio chair, "Enjoy these few months while you can. Ones the angels come, all hell will break loose, and the worker bees will start to panic. Best time to learn magic, no?"

Gabriel was gathering his meat at that comment, "You sure know how to pick your moments, don't you Harry?"

"I blame you for that, Uncle Gabe."

Crowley hastily laughed, "He got you there. And yes – we will start our lessons tomorrow. You want to start on rituals or just jump straight to spell slinging?"

Harry looked at his ribs, "Let's start nice and easy with pyrokinesis."

"I thought you would want to learn teleportation…"

"Already did. Gabriel did it to me so many times to me that I figured it out on my own."

Crowly nodded, "Makes things easier. Wanna practice your range?"

Harry made a small fireball to char his ribs while looking at Gabriel, "Medium-rare. It was a trick question. And yes, let's practice – I only have a range of about Idaho."

"That is.. a very particular distance. You actually measured?"

Harry nodded as he was biting into his ribs.

Gabriel was sipping his lemonade, "I'll teach him some stuff afterward when you damage control, Crowley. He's already got the hang of most guns and hand-held weapons. He's frighteningly good as a sniper."

Crowley was eating his chicken with a fork and a knife, "Why do I need a sniper for? I just snap my fingers to kill someone."

Gabriel and Harry both gave Crowley the evil eye. "I am sorry. Harry, it is very impressive that you turned yourself into a professional killer."

Harry finished his ribs smiling, "Thank you, Dad – I aim to please. Now, taking an educated guess, Sam should be at his lowest at some point in June, so make sure Ruby introduces herself then. In July, Dean will finally break the seal and Sam will most likely make some crazy scheme to kill Lilith or die trying. So by mid-September, the angels will finally go Lazarus on us and raise Dean."

Crowley just couldn't follow Harry's logic, but he hasn't been wrong so far, "Will do."

Gabriel jumped in, "At what point did we start taking advice from an eight-year-old…"

"Seven years old – almost eight."

"Sorry. When did we start taking advice from a seven-year-old?"

Harry laughed as he finished his lemonade, "The minute you realized I was Neo."

Everyone nodded as they clanked their glasses together, "To Harry!"

September 18th, 2008

Gabriel came up to Crowley's study. The demon was currently writing up some future lesson plan for Harry.

The kid was voracious for knowledge – Gabriel was seriously considering seeing if he could perform chronokinesis.

"Hey Crowley, have you seen Harry? He wasn't in any of his bedrooms nor his Room of Weird."

"Said he needed to go Pontiac, Illinois."

"Why?"

"Said he needed to set up some marker and stuff for some event. I blame the…"

At this point, Harry ported into the study, "It's time, Dad."

The adults in the room were confused. They should have been used to this by now, but Harry always managed to surprise them.

Gabriel was first to ask, 'What did you do?"

"I placed a magic marker on Dean's grave. Any moment now, Crowley should be getting the call that…"

And the music of ABBA permeated the air.

Crowley checked the caller on his cell.

"…that Dean was lifted out of Hell."