Blank Pages Part 4
Blank Pages: The War Of Brothers
“Gabriel?” Sam swallowed when his voice came out much more timid than he’d meant it to and tensed in frustration, trying to squish down his fear deep inside him. “Gabriel, what’s going on?”
The archangel glanced at him sympathetically and shook his head, “This will probably suck a lot more to remember than it was to experience the first time around.” He shrugged, “See you in a few, Sammy.”
Sam blinked when Gabriel vanished as if he’d never been there at all, and shuddered. His eyes went to the sky above again where the darkness continued to seep across it like ink in water. The clouds crackled under his feet and he side-stepped as though that would somehow spare him, though every inch of the puffy surface snapped with electricity. “Gabriel!” He called, unable to keep the panic from his voice, “Shit, what is this? Gabriel! Get back here right now!”
At that point, Sam had to wonder if his words had an effect on the fucked reality he was in, because everything lightened. Green grass exploded out from beneath his feet and the crimson lightning that had woven through the clouds sparked to the surface as towering oaks and willows, maples and palms, fronds and rosebushes. Thousands of plants that never should have co-existed all springing to life around him. Poppies bloomed among the grass and cherry blossoms unfurled from a tree right beside Sam, and he inhaled sharply in mild surprise. “What the-”
Gabriel must have been wrong. What could be bad about a forest, or wildlife reserve, or whatever it was as beautiful as this? It was like a garden of paradise.
Sam hissed between his teeth in realization, dread coursing through him. The Garden. If these were Gabriel’s memories, like the angel had said, then this could be only one place that made even a little bit of sense.
The Garden of Eden.
Sam practically threw himself on the ground as he heard footsteps tromping through the undergrowth, flattening his large frame as much as he could behind a holly bush, not a second too late. Sam barely withheld a gasp as Lucifer himself walked past just inches away from his nose.
It was not Lucifer as Sam had last known him, that searing pain of fire and ice eating away at him, body and soul, but rather Lucifer as he would have appeared when he had first possessed Nick. A young man, probably a good ten years younger than Nick had been before he’d let the Devil in, with short dirty blond hair and light eyes. His skin was smooth and unmarked as Sam had never seen it, free of decay and disease from the thing inside him. But it was not Nick, and Sam knew it instantly, if only by the wings protruding from his shoulders.
The feathers were like nothing he’d ever seen, a mix of silvers and pure golds extending up and out as they unfurled from his back, waving every so slightly in the barest breeze that twisted through the trees. Sam marveled at the sight of them, understanding at once why Lucifer had once been known as the most beautiful of all angels.
Lucifer turned, staring in Sam’s direction, and the Hunter held his breath. “Come out, you idiot. I don’t like being followed, if that’s what you think you’re doing. Your sneaking could use some work.” Sam shivered but stayed where he was, praying that Lucifer was speaking to someone of this place, someone of this memory, and not him. He thought he was done with the Devil forever, this was too much.
To his immense relief a small head poked out of the bushes a little to Sam’s left, slick autumn brown hair and honey-gold eyes revealing immediately who he was. He scrambled up to his older brother, dark black feathers trailing along in the flowers and grass behind him as he stumbled through the undergrowth. The child grabbed Lucifer’s hand tight in his own, smiling innocently.
“Gabriel,” Lucifer chided softly, and Sam was shocked at the gentle tone the fallen angel’s voice.
Wait, if he was in Eden then Lucifer wasn’t fallen, he was still a pure, unsoiled by sin, angel. The thought itself was so weird Sam nearly choked on his spit as it entered his mind. He knew the bible and the stories about the Fall of Lucifer, so of course he knew Lucifer had once been an angel. But seeing it, that was another matter entirely.
“Gabriel, aren’t you supposed to be with Michael today?” the older angel went on smoothly, interrupting Sam’s thoughts.
Gabriel stuck out his little pink tongue and clung to the other’s hand defiantly,
“Michael’s no fun,” he whined, and Sam huffed in silent laughter. Some things never changed, even in heaven.
Lucifer rolled his eyes before he bent down and scooped the much smaller angel up into his arms, “And what makes you think that I’m fun to be around?” he asked reasonably, a small smile tugging up the corners of his mouth.
“Because you’re nice,” Gabriel informed mater-of-factly, “You don’t say things like, ‘Go over there, Gabriel. Stay out of the way, Gabriel. Don’t touch that, Gabriel. Stop running, Gabriel. Stay where I can see you, Gabriel,’” the young archangel folded his arms over his chest as he finished his list, annoyed at the very remembrance of the words.
A chuckle escaped Lucifer, and Sam’s heart shuddered at the sound of it. It was like the laughter of his nightmares. Here, though, it was real rather than fake and forced, as if there was more than anger and greed behind it. “Michael cares for your well being, Gabriel. He just worries a bit more than most.”
“He’s yucky,” Gabriel muttered. He glanced off somewhere into the deeper reaches of the forest, pointing a finger into the distance, “Let’s go to the Tree, Lucifer! I wanna go see the Tree today!” Lucifer shook his head, but began to walk in that general direction, wings flared out behind him.
After the sound of the archangel’s footsteps began to fade Sam pushed himself to his feet and followed, creeping around between the trees and staying as far in the shadows of them as possible so as not to be seen. He ducked behind a willow and stayed beneath it’s overhanging branches as he watched Lucifer place Gabriel down at the base of the hugest freaking tree Sam had ever seen in his whole life. If a redwood was big, then this was a redwood’s daddy and a half, or more. Gabriel whooped and put his hands against the bark of the thing’s trunk, looking absolutely thrilled. Lucifer put his hands on his sides and laughed, reaching up and grabbing an apple from one of the lower branches and handing it to his brother. Sam held his breath in fear. The apples of Eden were not to be eaten, he knew that for sure.
He wanted to cry out, to warn Gabriel as the fledgling took the apple from his sibling, but doing so would give him away. And besides, what could he change? This was the past, a memory. Anything that would happen already had. Sam watched, riveted, as Gabriel looked up at Lucifer, as mesmerized as a child staring into the sun, “We don’t eat,” he said evenly, confused.
“I know,” Lucifer murmured, crouching down so that he was at eye level with the younger angel, “But you’ll love eating this, Gabriel. It’s good, and delicious, and it’s everything angels aren’t supposed to have.”
The gleam in Gabriel’s eyes was exactly like any child’s would be when told not to do something, and he gulped, staring hard at the ruby red apple before sinking his teeth into it.
Sam gasped, a hand over his mouth as he did so. There was no change to Gabriel physically as he swallowed the bite of fruit, but when he looked up at his brother again there was a light in his eyes that Sam knew had not been there before.
The light of real emotion.
The Hunter clenched his fingers at his sides as he fought down the urge to go out there and ask Lucifer what the hell he thought he was doing, to get some sort of explanation. But before he could move a hand went right through his chest to touch the tree trunk Sam was hiding behind. Sam squealed, staring down at the hand in utter horror before it withdrew from his ribs through his back, and he felt no pain. Like the hand of a ghost. He whirled, breath catching in his throat as he came face to face with his younger brother.
Adam.
But Adam looked right past him, towards where Gabriel was scarffing down the rest of his apple and Lucifer was watching him with appreciation in his eyes. Sam stared at him and took in the sight of the sibling he thought he’d never see again, short golden brown hair and sea-glass eyes. He wanted to apologize. For being a terrible brother, for pulling him to his death into Hell. Adam only gazed right through him, brushing aside the overhanging willow leaves as he paced out into the sunlight that dappled the Tree and the two angel’s beneath it.
And as he walked away Sam noticed his wings, long platinum feathers with ebony tips brushing the ground. He let a breath escape him, shoulders slumping. It wasn’t Adam, it was Michael.
Lucifer’s head jerked up as the oldest archangel approached, and Sam thought for sure that he would look scared, or ashamed at what he’d done to Gabriel. Except that Lucifer smiled, and Michael smiled back.
“Don’t you think he’s a bit young?” Michael asked, as he came to stand beside Lucifer, resting a hand on his shoulder.
Lucifer shook his head, “The younger he is, the more it will work. Emotion is a beautiful thing, brother.”
Michael raised an eyebrow, “And yet you don’t care for our Father’s grandest creation. They’re the ones these apples were made for, Lucifer. Not angels.”
Hissing out between his teeth, Lucifer spoke, “Angels were made first, angels are children of God, not those . . . Things down there.” He snatched another apple off the branches and bit into it, hard. “These should have been for us all along, not them. Us.” Gabriel looked between his brothers, oblivious to the argument boiling under the surface. Michael just frowned, turning away. As he walked past Sam, the Hunter’s eyes followed him, watching the angel in the visage of his little brother while the world around him changed.
The Tree sunk back into the ground, and the bushes skittered around to different positions in the forest, the trees shuffling until the scenery was vaguely different. Sam froze, realizing that Michael had vanished into the trees, and he all but cursed.
And then he did, when an older version of Gabriel pushed past him. The archangel barely cast him a glance, but unlike Michael he actually touched him when he shoved past, a hand pausing on Sam’s shoulder as he did so. He was not either of the Gabriels Sam was familiar with, neither the fledgling nor the man. If Sam had to label him, it would be an adolescent, a teenager if he must.
Sam followed him, keeping a good ten feet away until Gabriel stomped to the edge of a clearing, putting his back flat against a broad tree and peering around the edge of it. The Hunter jumped behind an oak nearby, though he was pretty sure no one but Gabriel could even see him.
In the clearing ahead voices rang out loud and clear, and Sam wondered if that was because Gabriel remembered every word, or simply because of how the Garden carried sound. Glancing into the open space, Sam stiffened at what he saw.
Lucifer stood in the center, flocked on each side by what appeared to be to angels, speaking to the in a low voice. Sam barely noted the two sets of ash gray wings on the pair’s backs, and he narrowed his eyes at their persons instead. To Lucifer’s right stood Crowley, clad in the same ivory robes all the other angels seemed to be wearing around there. His eyes were a poison yellow, and he tilted his head to the side as Lucifer spoke, listening intently. He was much younger than Sam remembered, mid twenties or so he guessed, and he stood tall and proud in a way that outmatched the Crowley he was familiar with, if that was even possible. To Lucifer’s left, was none other than Azazel, and Sam shuddered bodily at the sight. His eyes and wings were the same color as Crowley’s, and when Sam took a moment to think about it he could come to no other conclusion that they were not only angels at the moment, but brothers as well. Not the way all angels were brothers, but the way the Winchester boys were brothers. In blood and bond.
Gabriel’s chest was heaving as he listened to the words Sam hadn’t been paying even the slightest attention to, and he gritted his teeth, going back the way he had come through the forest. Sam felt the longing to linger here, to figure out why Azazel and Crowley were in Heaven, but as Gabriel moved Sam was tugged along as if he was following on nothing but instinct. The young archangel crashed through the undergrowth like wanted Lucifer to know he’d been listening in, spying on him, but he didn’t seem to care, and he stopped only when he drew up in front of a low building. Sam stared at the thing, taking in the white marble columns and granite base, marveling at it’s structure before he hurried along in Gabriel’s wake, the angel already halfway up the steps to the door.
Inside he wasn’t the least bit surprised to see Michael. The eldest archangel was standing near one wall and gazing out a window that was simply a square hole it’s surface and leaning heavily against it. He still bore Adam’s image as Sam had last seen him, maybe because he could never imagined his brother to be any older than he had been when he’d died. Michael barely looked up when Gabriel stormed in. “Yes, Gabriel, what is it?”
Gabriel paused, taken aback at his sibling’s calm tone, “What’s- are you kidding me? Haven’t you noticed what Lucifer’s doing?!”
“He’s speaking with Azazel and Caphriel,” Michael said simply, not alarmed by this in the slightest, “There’s nothing wrong with that, Gabriel.”
The younger seethed, face turning red, “But he’s talking of war, brother! They’re discussing a rebellion, tactics and plans!”
Michael’s eyebrows furrowed together, his wings shifting uncomfortably against his back, “Why would you say such a thing, Gabriel? Lucifer loves his brothers and our Father, he would never-”
“But he does not love Humanity!” Gabriel snapped, hands fisting at his sides, his knuckles white. “He does not obey the Last Order, and you know it! What if-”
Michael moved to stand before his brother, placing a finger against his mouth commandingly, “Do not speak of your brother like that.”
“But-”
“I will hear no more of it. He is our brother, my brother, and I have faith in him no matter what he does,” Michael went on. “And I know he does not what you say he does, at the very least. Do not lie, Gabriel.”
“I’m not-”
“Do. Not. Lie.”
Sam swallowed thickly, looking away. Michael’s conviction that his brother could do no wrong was so much like Dean, it hurt. And just like Lucifer, Sam had betrayed his brother. It was as perfect of a match as Gabriel had once described it in TV Land. Too perfect, even.
Gabriel wilted, his wings brushing against the ground as he averted his eyes from his brother, not knowing what else to do.
The world seemed to tilt once again and the sky opened up outside, rain cascading down against the roof of the building. Sam bit his lip as he noticed that the room was suddenly vacant, the stone it was made of cracked and chipped where it had been unmarked and pristine before.
Thunder boomed, and Sam rushed outside, eager and terrified to see the greatest war history had ever known unfold. There was nothing else it could be. Outside the garden was gone, smoking ashes of trees that had once stood where it would be. On the horizon Sam could still see the Tree, it’s leaves burning as flames erupted into the sky, undeterred by the rain that cascaded down. Above, what Sam had first thought had been lightning flashing across the sky he now realized was angels, the sparks of metal against metal lighting up the clouds as swords clashed, blue streaking through the rain as Grace exploded out from the dying. Sam put his hands to his mouth and sucked in a shaking breath.
Far above, Crowley went tumbling through the clouds, crashing to the ground and then passing right through it, closely followed by Azazel while a blond angel with sky colored wings stabbed his blade into the soil, letting out a triumphant cry. “Cast them down!” he called to his brothers high above, “Throw the traitors to Hell!” The sound was repeated through the garrisons, and Sam saw Gabriel lift his sword in reluctant agreement as he yelled it back. He still looked so young. The blond angel on the ground tilted his head up into the rain, gazing towards the war waging overhead with his mouth half open, eyes wide.
Sam followed his gaze, catching sight of Michael blazing through the clouds, sword aloft. Lucifer crashed into him head on, appearing out of nowhere to meet his brother in battle. Sam sat down hard on the ground, watching as they locked swords over and over, metal clanging through the noise of the storm. And the world stood still, every other angel halting what they were doing to watch the fight in rapt awe, including Gabriel. Lucifer lunged with his free hand, grabbing a fistful of Michael’s feathers and smirking as his brother shrieked as he ripped them out, plunging his sword into Michael’s shoulder while he was distracted.
There was no blood, only the sapphire bleed of Grace as Michael clutched at his arm, gasping in shock and pain. “You . . . Don’t know what it is you do, brother” he whispered, though the sound was loud enough for all the brethren and Sam to hear.
“Yes, I do,” Lucifer all but snarled in his brother’s face in reply.
“Then that is all the worse,” Michael murmured, grabbing his brother’s shoulder. For all the world it looked like an embrace as he pulled the Devil to him, until his sword was protruding from Lucifer’s back.
Unlike the rest of the angels, his Grace did not leave him as his body was pierced, and Sam inhaled sharply as Michael pulled away, watching coldly as Lucifer simply fell, all the way to the ground just as Crowley and Azazel had, and then right through it.
“Never return,” Michael screamed after him, and Sam sobbed, watching as Lucifer was banished the same way he had been when he had walked out on Dean.
He really was the perfect vessel.
And then everything stopped. The angels halted mid flight, the noise vanished, and the rain froze where it was falling. Sam could reach out and touch the individual droplets if he chose to. “I told you it wasn’t pretty,” a voice said softly near his ear, and he nearly jumped out of his skin as he twisted his head around to stare up at Gabriel. He was dressed in twenty first century clothes again, hands in his pockets as he rocked on his heels.
Sam shook his head, “And that’s just the start of it, isn’t it,” he whispered.
“Just the tip of the iceberg, bucko,” Gabriel sighed.