Pairing: Sam/Gabriel probably.
Other stuff: Amnesia fic, Jericho crossover.
Word count: 4000~ words so far.
Prompt: Gabriel was ressurrected but with no memory of who he was and since, he's been Bill, one of the loval cops in Jericho. It's not until one day, out checking on a disturbance that Bill gets attacked by something that should exisist and wakes up in one of the remote cabins outside Jericho.
I totally stole this prompt from a comment meme. If I ever get around to finishing it, I'll have to ask the original prompter if it's okay for me to use it.
Okay, so... I watched Jericho a while ago, and while the series itself didn't really do much for me, RSJ was amazing in it, small-ish part or not. So this was just a tasty tasty prompt and I couldn't help but start writing it, even though the prompt was technically claimed for a mini-bang. But since I haven't seen any signs of the mini-bang fic ever happening, I think I can come forward now and admit that I started it too.
The only problem with this is that I've written myself into a corner somewhat, but I think I can save it. I sure like what I have so far, and once I brainstorm how to get myself over that hump I think it can be a good fic.
I also took total liberties with werewolves, so I'll probably do some handwavey shit and claim it's a foreign type or something.
“So... what am I... exactly?” Bill asked, not at all sure he'd like the answer, but still needing desperately to know.
“If- and this is kind of a big if,” Sam started carefully “if you are who we think you are... then you're...” he trailed off again.
Bill swallowed. “That bad, huh?”
“No! No, not... well... it depends how you look at it,” Sam babbled.
“Then just lay it on me,” Bill said. “Just get it out there and then we can argue if it's a good or a bad thing. Please?”
Sam sighed and steeled his shoulders. “Okay. But if you freak out, just please keep in mind that I tried to ease you into it-”
“Rip off the band aid, kiddo!” Bill hissed.
“-you're an angel! Okay? An angel.” Sam blurted.
After that announcement Bill went very still. Sam flashed him an apologetic grimace that mostly looked like he'd stubbed his toe. At any other time Bill would have thought it was hilarious.
“Are you okay, or are you just... silently freaking out?” Sam asked quietly.
“When you say angel,” Bill said slowly, “are we talking some kind of slang or metaphor?”
“Afraid not. I mean actual angels from Heaven. Winged warriors of God Almighty,” Sam said flatly.
Bill squinted at him. “And... you're saying I'm one of those?” He scoffed and gestured frantically to himself. “Are you high? Look at me, for Christ's sake! I'm short, I'm out of shape, I have a weak chin! I snore and drool when I sleep! My sense of humor is about as crude as you can get, and I'm told on a regular basis that I have a real gift for pissing people off! Does that sound like any kind of angel to you?!”
To Bill's amazement, Sam smiled. “Yeah, actually it kinda does.”