Day 57: Cafeteria

[gald_digger]

Edgar's charming company had raised Anise's spirits enough that not even the Head Doctor's voice could bring them back down. Besides, she was feeling pretty sure that Landel wasn't actually around. To begin with, it wouldn't make sense, and secondly, his announcements sounded suspiciously like ones she'd already heard before. While Anise wasn't

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[poorexample]

It didn't take long for Gabriel to show himself. That was another sign that this was serious; in Castiel's experience, whenever his brother actually took something seriously, something catastrophic was going on. Granted, Gabriel wasn't going to behave as such. He settled down while spouting more of his nonsense, causing Castiel to simply stare back at him.

Everyone knew that Friday the 13th was a myth. Granted, there was truth in even the strangest of rumors. Still, Castiel didn't see how that related to their current situation. It was Sunday, wasn't it?

"It... wasn't," he replied, clearly not understanding what the archangel was getting at. It was mildly annoying that Gabriel was able to guess what he'd been doing last night, but it was better not to dwell on it. "I learned some more about how to get locks open," he replied. That was something that might be relevant to the man's interests, seeing how he'd been just as clueless of how to go about it before.

"I did run into a young woman who seemed to be working as a guard. She refused to let us through the front door." It hadn't impacted their plans very much, but it was likely something worth mentioning.

[affictitious]

Okay, Dad. Were you listening? Because that was seriously one lined-up opening, conveniently placed right where he needed it to be. Like, too convenient. Creepy.

Not that he he continually been entertaining the idea that the Big G himself had resurrected him and put him here to suffer another life with Winchesters (who were still screwing the pooch every other minute) and the angel that was their helpful fairy guide through life. Still. To this day. No continuing angst here, folks. No daddy issues. No Maury.

It was all very Chekov's gun. "Right. Okay, to play into that very convenient string of exposition, that guard thing? Yeah. She's not the only one who had a brain getting poked around." He wasn't sure why he was telling Castiel, really. It sure wouldn't change anything about last night, but it seemed... like a reasonable thing to do. It wasn't a warning or anything, obviously. "I dunno if you've heard about the whole brainwashing thing, but it's, uh. Kind of a legitimate threat. Go figure."

[poorexample]

While it seemed as if it was almost impossible for Gabriel to ever say anything directly (which was one of the most noticeable ways in which they were the exact opposite of each other), even Castiel was able to pick up on the implication. His brother's mind had been tampered with last night, likely meaning that he had been assigned to guard an area as well.

The idea of the people behind this being able to get anywhere close to the inside of an archangel's head was difficult to grasp. Gabriel wasn't even inhabiting his true form, and more than that, he was telepathic. For one of Heaven's highest beings to be mentally open to a human with the right tools and drugs seemed impossible.

But there was still no saying that humans had done this in the first place, was there?

"What do you remember of the process? Where were you placed?" The questions spilled out of him like a floodgate had opened; if Gabriel had been willing to tell him that much, then Castiel could only hope that he would divulge the rest of the details. It might uncover a new clue. "Were your powers returned to you?" And if they had been, why hadn't he taken his chance to leave right then and there? Just what had his mindset been?

[affictitious]

"Calm down there, Barbara Walters. This isn't exactly something I'm super thrilled to spill the beans on, all right?" The fact that he'd just admitted that was bad enough. Desperation was a messy business even when Tak wasn't dropping tongues on your dashboard. Desperation to... not get stabbed anywhere or die or get pushed off a cliff. Look, people like him were the sort of people to get that kind of crap. Being cautious wasn't his style, but he sure needed to learn to adapt.

And Gabriel was, if anything, quite adaptable. Kind of needed to be to blend in with the locals when you were a big name.

"Anyway, details are sketchy. No big surprise. Pseudo-doctors, kidnapped after dinner, blah blah blah..." He shrugged to show how little he cared that apparent humans had the capability to touch his mind (which technically wasn't even in this damn body) without losing their own minds or exploding. Archangels were not perceptible in any capacity to humans. Any. Capacity. So obviously he was dealing with... Kryptonians. That was the only explanation. And, you know, after meeting the new-age Spiderman, it seemed legit.

"I'm sure I know what you're thinking. Same thing I wondered after you got your wings. I didn't want to leave. I'm sure you remember getting the occasional divine order. You know, smite the occasional nonbeliever or whatever, this stone tablet will self-destruct in 10 seconds. Imagine that, except with less death."

[poorexample]

Despite the fact that Gabriel would rather had kept the details to himself, Castiel appreciated that he was willing to share as much as he did. It gave him some information to work with, particularly the fact that they came to collect subjects for brainwashing after dinner. That was something he could be aware of and try to anticipate, at the very least. He realized that fighting back was likely futile, but that wouldn't prevent him from trying.

That, of course, was assuming that the institute would have enough of an interest in him to do such a thing. He could see how Gabriel would stand out first if only because he was more powerful, and yet Castiel's role in stopping the Apocalypse was more obvious.

It was hardly a contest, however, and so he rid himself of that line of thought.

The most interesting aspect was the fact that Gabriel had felt as if he was working under orders. Castiel studied Gabriel for a moment, wondering how that must have felt when the he hadn't answered to anyone in centuries. "Did you think that you were once again working for Heaven, then? Was it an order from..." He trailed off, not certain what he wanted to end that sentence with. Neither of them wanted to discuss their Father, after all.

[affictitious]

Oh, ouch. His little brother just had to go into forbidden territory, didn't he?

"No," was his immediate, clipped answer. Look, he was great at hiding in general - and it'd been annoying enough when Peter had actually accused (his words, not Peter's) of being the guy himself - but family was just. One thing he didn't want to talk about, Dad being the top of the "go screw themselves" list. Except in a polite, holy way, like "go contemplate the nature of the universe in the Bermuda Triangle and get lost for a century or two."

Polite, you know. Civil. Angels were totally into that.

"I know you're into telling the Winchesters everything, but seriously? Keep your tongue to yourself for once. I've had enough sharing and caring sessions with them to last me a couple of freakin' lifetimes." Yes, his priorities were shockingly obvious. And he also didn't need more reasons for everyone to think he was crazy and/or shankable. "It didn't have a damn thing to do with home. It was just - oh, you know. Elite being, guarding this hallway seems like a fantastic idea. If only Pyramid Head had shown up, we could have had this great guilt party with a hangover to boot. Only rule was no killing, which I'm sure you know wasn't exactly of my choosing.

And now a fifteen year old girl wants to kill me, so that's. You know. Just throwing that out there."

[poorexample]

It was difficult to believe what Gabriel was saying, despite the harsh way that he'd responded (or perhaps because of it). How could it make sense unless he'd believed he'd been working on orders from Heaven? After he'd left, he had only ever been working for himself, and -- as he just pointed out -- sometimes that even involved killing. While Castiel had shed his fair share of blood, he always did so for a reason. Gabriel's concept of giving people their just desserts seemed petty -- and more than that, the result of some sort of God complex.

That was, after all, what he'd called himself.

It was no surprise that this had bothered his brother so much, then. Castiel wasn't aware of when the conversation had turned toward the Winchesters, but it was simple enough to know what Gabriel was referring to. He'd told Sam what he really was, and while Gabriel wasn't pleased with it, he'd had his reasons.

Deciding to ignore that entirely (he didn't need to explain himself to Gabriel), he focused instead on the implications of the brainwashing itself. "Regardless of what they thought, they made you believe in something so strongly that you neglected to leave this place despite having every chance to. That sort of power is beyond reason." In fact, God was the only being he could think of who would be capable of it. Perhaps Lucifer as well. So how had Aguilar and his cohorts managed it?

"Gabriel, I fear the direness of our situation is becoming more and more clear." Castiel had a difficult time ignoring the facts, and at this point he wasn't certain that a way out and back to his timeline even existed.

[affictitious]

Well, sound the freaking bells! Someone besides him was starting to get freaked out!

"About damn time, Sherlock," he grunted, turning his head away from his brother to look out at the pulsing flood of humans around them. How many others had been forced into what he had? It wasn't just him. Sure, Gabriel was vain sometimes, but he wasn't a moron. Peter had said something about the same thing happening to him. Was it only the people - the things - that were beyond human? Fictional superheroes and archangels were on two totally different levels. Those were planes that didn't touch, let alone exist in the same dimension.

"Did you figure out it was time to worry before or after the guys revived a couple of angels? Humans shouldn't have this kind of power. To be contrary, they can't. This is beyond any attempt they could make at science, bro." This was taking up Dad's mantle, what the humans aptly called playing God. He might have done a similar thing, but - it was useless to explain to anyone, especially someone like Castiel. "And I don't like it. We need to find this guy, whatever means necessary."

It wasn't that he was just screwing with a couple of angels. He was screwing with the timeline itself. Gabriel, for all accounts and purposes, should still be dead. That was his future. And Castiel? Castiel should be doing... whatever it is he did, which involved a whole lot more not being dead and not being trapped.

The whole point was to avoid the Apocalypse, not make it easier to start.

[poorexample]

The last thing that Castiel needed at that moment was for Gabriel to treat him like he knew nothing. He had realized from the start how serious their situation had been, but gaining access to an archangel's mind reached an entirely different level than anything he'd witnessed beforehand. Removing an angel's abilities wasn't impossible, but taking complete control should have been.

"I realize that," he responded, his tone sharp and bordering on annoyed. He didn't need it spelled out for him, although he also realized that Gabriel had to be even more bothered by this than he was, seeing how he had been the victim of the brainwashing.

Though there was one other thing that was tugging at his mind, something Gabriel had said that didn't make sense. Castiel had taken to ignoring a lot of what came out of his brother's mouth, but for this particular conversation he was more or less hanging on every word. That was why he noticed and subsequently paused to address it.

"What do you mean, 'revived a couple of angels'?" Castiel realized that he might have died before arriving here, but he'd never worked out a clear answer to that and he wasn't certain that he'd ever know. However, Gabriel was making it sound as if...

Honestly, it was hard to imagine. Gabriel had been around for hundreds of years. Surely he wouldn't go down so easily. And yet Castiel was watching him with an unblinking stare, wanting to hear the answer straight from his mouth. Somehow, he hoped that he'd misunderstood.

[affictitious]

The archangel sighed with subdued exasperation, turning his head to watch the door. Hiding behind his veiled amusement was really getting pretty damn difficult. "Really, Castiel? Do you think I get a big kick out of dropping all of these super-vague hints everywhere?" Okay, he did, but that wasn't the point. And maybe saying he enjoyed it with this subject was going a little too far. Or a lot. "Even Hansel and freaking Gretel followed the crumbs faster."

This was the whole problem with the destiny versus free will argument. As a, er, somewhat firm supporter of... humanity, he had put his vote in the free will ballot. It wouldn't decide the election, but even he could acknowledge what that meant without much vanity. There was consideration to be put into whether he thought telling Castiel what had happened in the angel's foreseeable future would change the time line at all. If he was following the examples put out by those other Quantum Leap angel escapades, the answer was a big-ol' resounding hell no, fate for life.

Even taking his little dips into the future, Gabriel still wasn't sure what side of the fence he was sitting on. It didn't really matter, for the most part. The same thing was going to happen, and his life wasn't exactly the most important one being put on the line.

(Ugh, martyr complex.)

"Let me just drop this bombshell and get the whole climatic and over-dramatic conversation over with: I'm dead, bro. Or I was. Or I should be. I tell you, this timey-wimey stuff can drive you crazy."

[poorexample]

In fact, Castiel did believe that Gabriel enjoyed being cryptic. The fact that he had recreated the sets of TV shows in order to make some sort of point to both Sam and Dean made it clear that the archangel was a fan of explaining things in the most roundabout way possible. It had grated on him then and it grated on him now. All they had right now was each other, seeing how both of the Winchesters had no idea of what they were truly facing, and yet Gabriel was still persisting in these evasive maneuvers?

However, all of that was thrown to the side when his brother finally did the mature thing and explained himself. Unfortunately, it was exactly what Castiel had feared and more or less the last thing he'd wanted to hear.

While he hadn't seen Gabriel in hundreds of years, he was still a sibling -- and more than that, he'd been trying to help in his own way. The fact that Castiel hadn't even been aware of his death until now bothered him for a number of reasons. He should have figured it out himself, Gabriel should have told him far earlier -- and more than all of that, it meant one more of his siblings lost to a meaningless war.

His body language was stiff, but his expression was completely closed off, mainly because he didn't know how to react properly. He ended up clinging to the one thing that was comfortable, which was a need for answers. Right now, however, he only had one question. "How?"

[affictitious]

Well, at least he hadn't cried. That would have totally been embarrassing for them both, even if seeing any change in Castiel's emotional demeanor was like watching a Nicholas Cage movie that wasn't filled with a plethora of crazy eye moments.

That was, it didn't really happen. Ever. But Gabriel had also been spending a few hundred years - give or take - around humans, and even a vessel gave off tell-tale signs. Gee, someone cared. That sure filled him full of warm and rosy feelings. Except, you know, Castiel had been miraculously absent during that whole diabolical scheme and he'd been pushed into the angelic savior caricature, with dramatic entrance and everything. Tables, turning, etc.

"How do you think?" It wasn't a really big secret that killing an archangel wasn't even near on the same level as killing one of the Host missing out on the whole arch thing. It was a private club, and murder stayed up in the white collar portion. To be honest, Gabriel wasn't sure how much he wanted to get into the Elysian Fields disaster. Admitting that he had basically let Lucifer kill him wasn't going to earn any brownie points, and even Castiel, with his love of family, wouldn't really understand why.

It was a personal thing.

"Considering we only have one brother really opting in for the Apocalypse, I thought it would have been pretty obvious." Pause. "Okay, we have more than one, but there's only one Big Bad in play here. And your Winchesters? Magnets for trouble. Put two and one together and you get your own private little massacre."

[poorexample]

Considering the seriousness of this situation, Castiel was hardly in the mood for Gabriel's attitude. He didn't need to be treated as if he was incompetent. What he'd wanted to know was the circumstances, since he'd already suspected -- known, deep down, in fact -- that Lucifer was the one behind it. Gabriel had left Heaven to get away from their bloodthirsty family members, so...

But it was something that should have been obvious from the start. The Winchesters did seem to attract trouble, and it was always the people around them who suffered. Castiel stared across the table at his brother, losing some of the stoniness of his expression as he tried to understand. He knew that it would be impossible to get the full story out of his brother, but he wanted to know more.

For some reason, he almost felt as if he should apologize on Sam and Dean's behalf. They weren't able to do so for themselves, seeing how they still knew nothing, and he... well, it seemed that he hadn't been there when he should have been.

"I'm... sorry," he said eventually, figuring that it was best to leave it as an overall statement. Sorry for Sam and Dean not realizing the enormity of their own actions, sorry for his absence, sorry for the fact that Gabriel had suffered from the very fate that he'd been running from.

There was one thing that he couldn't ignore, however. "Nonetheless, it seems that someone saw fit to bring you back." From a death acted out by Lucifer, no less.