[SPN] faith is a series of complications (14/16; thirteenth act)
XIII: thirteenth act-carry on my wayward son.
They began their journey first thing in the morning.
Bobby sent them off with a gruff reminder to call him when they needed any help ‘because you idjits are going to need it’, and after having discussed it over breakfast, the four of them had agreed that it might be best that the brothers drive over to their destination, rather than have the angels zap them.
There were a few reasons for this: one, both Sam and Dean were going to need all the weapons they could carry in the Impala, and it would be a little impractical for Gabriel and Castiel to keep drawing out weapons for them, when they needed to save up all the energy they could for the oncoming battle. Going up against both Crowley and Raphael wasn’t going to be an easy feat, even with Gabriel having regained his powers. There were still many other aspects that could be used against them. Two, the spell they had to open up Purgatory wouldn't work until the lunar eclipse, as Loki had informed them last night. And three, letting Dean drive would simply benefit everybody in the long run-the less he had to complain about, the better it would be for everyone involved.
Once the Winchesters were ready and on their way towards their destination, Castiel returned to Heaven in order to muster up whatever supporters still sticking around to help him. Gabriel went off to the pagans with Loki, finding the ones agreeable to enter the final battleground and settle things once and for all. Not many of the gods were willing to put themselves up against angels and demons so readily, especially not after the Judeo-Christian Apocalypse and the damage that Lucifer had wrought across the pantheons. A few of them did change their minds though, after Loki brought up the Leviathans and the threat they posed to them and the world. Others only scoffed and waved the danger away, saying that they were under no obligation to help.
By the time nightfall came and time was up, the two Tricksters had only managed to get about ten or so of the pagans to help them out; the numbers included Fenrir and the others who helped out at Oregon, Orpheus, Amaterasu, Susano-o and last but not least Kali as well as Baldur. To say that Gabriel was surprised with the last two would be an understatement, but there was no real time to ask either of them for their reasons to help out.
“You gotta go, Gabe,” Loki nudged him with her elbow, throwing a pointed look in the general direction of where the Winchesters-as well as the decisive battleground-would be. “I'll round up the guys who're helping out and send them over your way later, as soon as possible.”
Gabriel nodded, already feeling the dreading anticipation building up in his gut. This was it, he knew. Once he went off, there was no telling what could happen. He might live or he might die instead, or maybe something else entirely different would happen. There was no way of knowing now, what with the world the way it was. Only time could tell.
He turned and gave the Trickster one last glance, slowly starting to spread out all eight of his wings. “If anything happens to me...” he started, wanting to cover his bases. He had to cover his bases-he couldn't run away now, not at this point. This wasn't like with the Apocalypse and Lucifer; this was much more than that, more than just choosing a side and sticking with it. This was about fighting for what he had come to believe in, and the things in the world he wanted to protect. There wasn't many... but it was still more than enough for him. He had never needed so much right from the start anyway.
Loki only smiled gently and nodded in response. “Don't worry,” she assured him, “I know you'll be fine.”
The archangel smiled back before he took off to his destination, and then the world vanished before him in a blur and the loud beat of giant wings.
Of all the places in the world, the last spot that Gabriel expected to find himself going to again was the Elysian Fields hotel.
The place had been deserted ever since the incident with Lucifer, and sometime during the time between then and now, most of the lights had gone out. The lights at the front of the establishment remained as some of the few that still worked, although they flickered from time to time.
Tonight though, it was deserted no longer, as Gabriel observed the mix of demons and angels that patrolled around the perimeter of the building. This night stood as the most important one for all of them-this was the night the eclipse would happen, and once the eclipse passed there wouldn't be another eclipse like this for a good long while. This would be the night where everything was going to be settled; one side would emerge victorious, or maybe none of them would win at all. The latter option seemed far more likely once the Leviathans were released.
Still, if the archangel had to be honest, what really unnerved him more at this moment was the countless number of crows that seemed to pop up all over the place. He could see hundreds of them on trees and rocks and anything else that they could perch on, including the roof of the hotel. All of them did nothing but watch silently, dark eyes staring at the battleground that laid out before them. Considering what Gabriel did know about the crows, it was safe to say that their presence was a little jarring, a sentiment that both Winchesters seemed to share.
“What the hell is with all these crows?” Dean asked not too kindly as he attempted to shoo away some of the birds, but to no effect; all the crows did was to squawk and flap their wings in response.
Sam gave a cursory look at the birds himself, frowning. “Did Crow call them here?”
“Maybe yes, maybe no, maybe maybe.”
All three heads turned around at the new-familiar raspy voice coming from behind them, and Dean instantly scowled at the figure that had appeared. “What are you doing here, birdbrain?”
Jack Crow hardly seemed ruffled by the moniker that Dean had just addressed him by, and if anything, only looked amused judging from the gleam in his wine-red eyes. The boy Trickster straightened his fedora, pulling the brim of it upwards, so that his face was fully visible in the dim moonlight, highlighting the sharp contours of both his cheeks and his chin.
“Is there a reason for everything that we do?” the boy rasped out, slowly tilting his head. “Just as there is order there is also chaos, and as there is life there is also death.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Dean demanded, never having been one for cryptic and strange answers. Considering that this was Jack Crow they were currently talking to, Gabriel couldn't really blame him for that.
Rather than answer the hunter, Crow instead opted to do a humanly impossible back flip that landed him right onto the hood of the Impala, an action that instantly earned a shout from Dean (“Watch where you're jumping, asshole!”) and a sympathetic wince from Sam, while Gabriel let out his own snort of amusement. The boy proceeded to crouch on the edge of the hood, despite the death glares that Dean was throwing at him now, perching on it in the same way that a bird (crow) would. Red eyes twinkled at them once more before the boy finally did respond. “We are the Murder, the ones who ferry the soul between reality and non-existence. And when the soul dies, we are the ones who bring the tattered remains back to the Lake of Souls, where they are remade and repaired and then the cycle begins anew.”
Gabriel's eyes widened as the name clicked in his mind. The Lake of Souls. But that place was in-“Purgatory.”
Both Winchesters instantly turned their heads to him, their eyes just as wide as his as they, too, put two and two together. “Then the human souls-” Sam started, quickly linking everything together in his head.
Crow dipped his head, and already they could see the boy start to fade, letting the darkness of the night swallow him back up. “Where everybody comes from and nobody goes,” he quoted turning more and more transparent until the last thing they saw was the smile that had been on his face. “That's where you're gonna find Jack's crows.” With the last part spoken out, the boy vanished entirely, leaving nothing but mist and shadows in his wake.
“Where everybody comes from,” Gabriel echoed blankly after a pause, seeing the truth in the phrase now. “Everybody. As in people. Humans.”
Dean's expression hardened. “That means there's a whole lake of human souls bubbling around in Purgatory, too?”
“The whole expression of being boiled,” Sam swiftly pointed out, looking between the other two. “It's like water-boiling cleans it. Burns out all the impurities. Makes it pure again.”
“And when the soul is pure again, the crows bring it back out,” Gabriel finished, feeling stuck between awe and uncertainty. To think that such a system had been in place and he had never known about it… Father, this was beyond anything he could have ever guessed. “If Crowley and Raphael are going to open Purgatory, I'm pretty sure that all those new souls will be one heck of a power boost.”
“Which is pretty much the last thing that we need right now,” Dean went with a scowl, turning upwards to the sky after that and swearing. “Goddammit.”
It was at that moment when Cas decided to finally show up, appearing with the beat of his own wings, looking at the rest of them. “I've gathered as many helpers as I can,” he reported, inclining his head. “I've directed them to spread out around the field. They will start attacking at my signal.”
Dean took out his gun and cocked it once Cas said that, looking just about as grim and ready as he could ever be. “Well then,” he said, “Let's get this show on the road.”
Castiel's supporters were the ones who moved first. They had already been ready and waiting for the command, and once the signal had been given all of them immediately rushed out from their spots, fierce and strong like the soldiers they were all supposed to be, as they clashed head on with demons and angels alike.
Gabriel started to move once the fight began, splitting himself from the Winchesters as he brought out his wings and started to dart around the skirmishes, both physical as well as metaphysical. Angels from both factions were flashing around him as he flew, most of them occupied, but some of them with the intent of going after him despite knowing who he was. Gabriel managed to shake them off quick enough-no angel could ever really be as fast as an Archangel, and there was a reason why he had the title of Messenger-and some others were repelled by the ones in Castiel's faction, pushing his pursuers back and using the chance to deal some damage.
“Go with haste, brother!” Gabriel heard one of them call out to him, when they clashed against another set of the archangel's pursuers, and Gabriel only had a moment to nod in acknowledgment as he quickened his pace. The world blurred around him at the velocity of his flight, so fast that even the angels and demons were nothing but indistinguishable sensations-something that Gabriel was thankful for, in his mind. There was only so long he could see the angels battling and killing each other without remorse or regret. It did nothing but remind him of the battle that led to Lucifer's Falling.
Why would you let this happen, Raph? The archangel thought to himself as he pushed himself harder, wanting to cross the distance as quickly as he could. The sooner this would end, the sooner all this killing would stop. It needed to end, and it needed to end now.
As he neared the building, Gabriel could feel the strength of the Enochian wards repelling him, resisting his presence like a physical wall. Of course, as a proper archangel once again, the wards had their effect on him again, but it wasn't as if Gabriel was just an angel, or just an archangel. Gabriel started to draw back his wings, two at a time as he slowed down his flight, locking up the angel part of him while bringing out the other side that the Trickster had granted him-the identity of Loki, the god of mischief, the Trickster of the Norse pantheon.
He stumbled on the ground when he tucked away the last of his wings, sealing them up momentarily with the pagan magic that now ran across his veins. He could feel the presence of the Enochian wards instantly disappearing from his senses, rendered all but useless now against his non-angelic side.
Still, things were hardly going to get any easier with the withdrawal of his Grace. A pair of angels from Raphael's camp were instantly on him the moment Gabriel sealed up his angelic powers, rushing at him with their swords as they snarled out at him in anger. “Betrayer!”
“Nope,” Gabriel replied, readying his fingers. “Just a Trickster.” He snapped his fingers right after that, and in the next instant a purple and red blur flashed pass Gabriel, knocking down the two angels and effectively stopping them in their tracks. The archangel closed his eyes the next second after that, preventing his eyeballs from being burnt out as both of them were killed (Gabriel quickly suspected that Loki must have done something to make that possible, because he's pretty sure that only angels could kill angels).
He only opened his eyes after a pause, trying to avoid looking at the scorch marks that had appeared on the ground (he knew all too well what they were) and directed his gaze to the giant purple and crimson furred wolf standing before him. “Nice job, Fen.”
Fenrir let out a low growl from the back of his throat, eyeing Gabriel for a few silent moments before replying mentally. All of us have arrived; we've split into groups as per instructed and performing the roles the Trickster has assigned to us, he paused for a moment before adding on almost reluctantly, I will accompany you.
Somehow, Gabriel felt himself grinning at the words. “Aw, Fen. I didn't know you cared.”
The wolf snorted, quickly glancing away. This is not the time for endearments.
“I know,” the archangel quickly turned serious again, turning to look at the entrance of the hotel. “The infiltration is over. Time for the sabotage.”
To put it in layman's terms, the plan went something like this: Gabriel, like before, would infiltrate the building and sabotage the wards keeping Castiel and his angels away. One of the pagan groups would help the Winchesters get to the building while the rest would help in the battle. Once the wards fell, it would be a direct charge into the building, and hopefully the confusion caused by that would let them locate and get to where Crowley and Raphael would be performing the spell without much trouble. In a nutshell, the entire plan had a heavy reliance on Gabriel, which was kind of ironic considering the entire situation. Still, the archangel wasn't going to say anything about it-he had chosen to fight, after all. He had made his decision to stay here and fight for this world he had lived in and ended up dying in.
Personally, Gabriel was a bit skeptical that things could work out that well, especially since he had employed pretty much the same trick last time (granted, though, he still hadn't gotten his powers back then). Then again, there really wasn't much in the world that could go up against a pagan god, including Enochian; the basis of their respective powers was on a far different level, wholly separate from each other. It had been an old loophole that had existed for a long time already, one that had no way of being corrected-it was something that just stuck on.
There had been many times when Gabriel had abused said loophole, but up until now it wasn't on the level of what he was doing right now. As he darted around the corridors of the hotel he could still feel the power of the Enochian wards pressing down on him, trying to reach into his angelic side and attack it. The pagan part of him though managed to prevent that from happening, blocking out the wards from getting to him. Still, Gabriel knew that it was just a matter of time before that would change-he could feel his magic chipping away, wearing down from the effort of keeping his Grace hidden. He needed to destroy the wards as soon as possible, before he used up all the pagan magic within him.
Turning left at the next intersection, the archangel glanced around as he moved, trying his best to sense which room held the angel (or angels) that were putting up the wards. There was no way wards like these could just be painted on, as far as Gabriel was aware of; at least one angel needed to maintain them constantly, or it would easily fall from the fierceness of the battle.
It's gotta be at a central location... Gabriel thought to himself as he continued to search for his target-not exactly the easiest thing to do, considering how more often than not the archangel relied on his Grace to do the job instead. Just using his pagan magic was something that he had not done for a good, long while, and Gabriel had to admit that he was pretty rusty with it. Not exactly the best condition to do this in, but it wasn't like they had any other chances. This was the only one they got.
Fenrir ran alongside him all this while, the wolf already having done a good deal to help in narrowing down where they had to search (contrary to what it looked on the outside, the place was actually quite big); it was Fenrir that got him down to his corridor, and had announced that they were close to their target when they made a right at the next intersection they encountered.
I can smell their Grace, the wolf-god remarked, and then snorted. It reeks of betrayal.
Gabriel frowned at the word that Fenrir had used. Considering everything, betrayal seemed like a pretty strange word. Still, the archangel supposed he could think about it later. Right now, what was more important was to take down the wards and get this entire show rolling.
“Lead me over, Fen,” he replied, slowing down just enough so that the canine could take over and lead the way.
The wolf growled an affirmative, quickening his pace to move ahead and start bringing the archangel towards their location. Gabriel swiftly followed behind, tuning his senses solely onto Fenrir now and simply let the wolf-god do the directing. He followed the wolf up a few set of stairs and a couple more turns, running through the corridors for a while more before Fenrir sent over a signal. We're close.
Gabriel sent out an acknowledgement, almost going to reach out for his blade before he remember that he couldn't, not until the wards were down. Mentally cursing himself for that lack of foresight, he reached out to Fenrir once again. You're going to have to do the battling here, Fen.
Fenrir snorted in response. Why do you think I'm here? He quipped back easily, before proceeding to let out a roar and smashed through the door without pause. Gabriel used the ensuing dust cloud as a cover and let himself into the room, although he barely took a few steps in before a sudden flare of Grace burst out from almost nowhere-Fenrir had already made his first kill. The archangel raised an arm to shield his eyes, blocking out the light even as he felt the force of said Grace sweep past him and across the rest of the room.
The world slowly returned as he lowered his hand, afterimages dancing across his eyes which Gabriel attempted to shake off quickly as he started to move. The death of one of the angels had already attracted the attention of the rest, and this time he could sense them coming towards both him and Fenrir, and there was no way they could take on something of that number. He needed to get rid of the wards. Now.
Gabriel quickly scanned around the room, attempting to locate where the master ward was as Fenrir continued to fight against the rest of the angels. The wolf-god had assumed his human form now, darting around quickly and neatly avoiding all the attacks that the angels were directing towards him. It was only a matter of time though before that would change, and Gabriel had to finish his objective before that happened. Taking a chance, the archangel reached deep inside him, dipping briefly into his Grace. Instantly, he could feel the agony of the Enochian wards pulling at him from top and bottom, left and right, threading through all eight of his wings and pinning them down to the ground. It hurt almost unlike anything he had felt before, but Gabriel gritted his teeth and pushed through the pain and reached out with his angelic senses to find... there!
He gasped out in relief when he withdrew from his Grace, nearly falling onto his knees from the effort of the last minute or two. Still, he managed to keep himself upright, only buckling a little before he grabbed the wall for support and pulled himself back together, gathering what strength he could muster up, he started to move towards where he had sensed the master ward. It was hardly far from where he was, so if he moved just a little bit more-
Look out!
Gabriel barely had a moment to react to the warning before he found himself being abruptly shoved down to the ground, but he didn't even need to see what happened to know what had just taken place, just by hearing the grunt of pain that came afterward.
“Fenrir!” he cried out in alarm, whipping around to stare at the sight of his son being stabbed through the side with an angel blade. The sight was like lighting a match into a barrel of oil-Gabriel could feel both his power and Grace bubbling in rage, boiling violently as anger coursed through him. The archangel let out a violent cry, pushing himself up on his feet and promptly threw himself towards Fenrir and the angels who had hurt his own child so.
The angels instantly geared up to attack, but fighting was not what Gabriel was after, not now. He brushed past the angels, startling them when he didn't attack, and instead slammed his palm right onto the wall-right over where the master ward was.
“End,” the archangel hissed out in Enochian, and in that instant he felt the world changing around him. Under his hand the ward dissipated, burned away by his power and he could literally feel the earth moving under his feet. His wings burst out from the confines of his pagan magic, brought back out once more when the oppression of his Grace was taken away and Gabriel could feel everything now rushing back through his form, entwining tightly with the pagan part of him. It was just like before-except not wholly, because now things were different. Now, he wasn't running away.
Gabriel could feel the other angels already scattering, fleeing from the avenging wrath of an archangel-but Gabriel had never been one for killing. He let them run off, watching as they all brought out their wings and escaped. He turned his gaze down once they were gone, gazing at the wounded figure of Fenrir as he knelt down and placed a hand on the wolf-god's wound, instantly healing it.
Fenrir groaned and opened his eyes, slowly focusing on the archangel as he muttered quietly. “...Father?”
Gabriel could feel tears starting to swell up in his eyes, but he quickly pushed them back before they could be seen and smiled at his son. “Yeah, Fen. I'm here.”
The archangel spent a few minutes to bring Fenrir over to somewhere safe, ensuring that the wolf-god was alright before he returned back to the battlefield. Now that the wards were down Castiel's supporters were gaining an edge, no longer held down by the spells that were restricting them. The other pagans were gaining ground as well now, spurred forward by what he and Fenrir had managed to accomplish.
Castiel joined him as he was flying back to the hotel, looking notably worn and tired but still managing to keep himself going. “Sam and Dean have managed to get into the hotel,” he reported, raising his voice over the noise of the battlefield.
“Alright,” Gabriel returned, pushing himself faster with his wings. “Let's bring this fight over to Crowley and Raphael.” Saying that, he burst through the doors with Castiel alongside him, and the air thundered from the sound from all of his eight wings when he appeared beside where Dean and Sam were currently hiding, angel blades in their hands.
Both Winchesters jumped when they heard his wings, and Dean almost poked his eye out with the blade he had been holding before managing to actually relax. “Jesus, Gabriel,” he started, sounding both relieved and irritated at the same time. “Don't just pop up like Cas does.”
“Would it make you feel better if I said 'no'?” the archangel replied smartly, smiling in amusement at the glare that Dean sent back to him in return. Ah, good times, good times. It was so nice to know that some of the better things never really seemed to change.
Sam cleared his throat to get their attention. “The eclipse is about to start any time now.”
“This will be our last stand,” stated Castiel in his matter-of-fact way, as the angel raised his sword. “If we fail, then everything will be over.”
“Not that we'll let that happen,” Gabriel tacked on at the end, glancing at the door. “It's all or nothing, kiddos. You guys ready for this?”
Dean, of course, was the one who made the cliché reply. “We were born ready,” he went without a beat, and Sam instantly rolled his eyes at the cheesiness of that answer while Castiel tilted his head and frowned, most possibly trying to discern if Dean's answer was to be taken literally or not. (Considering everything though, Gabriel had a good feeling that it would be the former.) Sighing himself, Gabriel took a moment as he closed his eyes and drew out his sword from the confines of his Grace, and he could hear it singing as he brought his blade out to the physical plane, Grace calling out in a familiar tune of might and strength as his sword wholly and truly proved that he was once again the Messenger of Heaven.
The blade flashed under the lights as Gabriel held it up, feeling the familiar weight of it resting in his hand. It was strange, now that he thought about it-this was almost just like when he was going to face Lucifer back then, standing here with his sword and a determination to see this thing through. Except then it still had been a means of escape, to end the fate he dreaded so much to see. Now this was him standing up for once, to fight and to possibly die for the things he had loved and enjoyed in this world... and Gabriel didn't see any problem with it at all. If he died, then at least he’d go down properly this time.
Gabriel lowered his hand back down, sucking in a deep breath to steel himself before he started to walk, taking step by step towards the double doors that would lead him to the end of this long, long road.
He entered by bursting through the doors, Castiel and the Winchesters following behind him. The four of them quickly spread out-Castiel went after Crowley while Sam and Dean got rid of the mooks and tried to get Eve; Gabriel on the other hand dove straight for Raphael, roaring as he swung out his blade to clash against the one belonging to the other archangel. The swords met in a ringing clash that sounded through the entire room, strong enough that it made the demons around them falter momentarily in their tracks.
It was Raphael who spoke first, speaking to him through gritted teeth. “Step down, brother.”
“I think I'll take a rain check on that,” Gabriel returned before he tightened the grip he had around his sword and shoved hard against the other archangel, pushing him away. Raphael quickly leaped back, his four pairs of wings beating for a moment as he (or she, depending on one’s point of view) drifted backwards with the momentum from his action.
The elder archangel straightened himself on the ground soon enough, the expression on his vessel’s face hardening as he gazed at Gabriel with an expression that nearly bordered on disgust. “Is this what you choose, Gabriel?” he asked, almost hissing out the words. “To side with filth like them instead? I thought of you as better than that.”
Gabriel only smiled wryly at the question. “I don’t know, Raph,” he answered, jerking his head slightly in the general direction of where Crowley was going around, generally avoiding the battle as much as he could. “You seem to be pretty chummy with the King of Hell from what I can tell.”
“Castiel is the one who stared it first,” Raphael replied icily, the corners of his lips curling in disgust. “I am only doing what I must to ensure victory.”
“Because consorting with demons always works out in the end,” Gabriel drawled back, eyes darting around for a moment to try and catch sight of Eve, although to no avail-hopefully that meant that the Winchesters managed to accomplish their part. “You know that this ain’t going to go the way you want it to, Raph. Stop this before it’s too late.”
“And let an abomination like Castiel go around scot free?” the elder archangel shot back with a scowl. “This is not just about who leads Heaven, Gabriel. This is about the sins that Castiel brings with him everywhere he goes. To end the charade he puts on will be but a mercy to him.”
Gabriel’s expression instantly darkened upon hearing Raphael’s response, wings flaring up as a surge of anger boiled across his Grace. He really loved his brother, he really did, but there were just some lines that even Raphael couldn’t cross, and this was one of them. “Castiel is a hundred, a thousand times better than you’ll ever be, Raph,” he retorted sharply, voice rising along with the flare of his rage. “He is a far better angel than any of us can be. Somebody like you will just never understand the miracle that Cas actually is.”
“What I see is nothing but an abomination of his own making,” Raphael returned, his own expression darkening as well. “It is a pity that you have been deceived by his lies, brother. Or was it the Trickster who lured you instead?”
“She has nothing to do with this,” Gabriel instantly snapped back. “I chose to help Castiel of my own free will.” Because Cas was the one who chose to believe in him in the end, despite everything. Cas was the one who had faith in him and wouldn’t give up on him, even though he hadn’t deserved any of that at all, because he knew that faith was supposed to be for Dean. But yet Cas had given it to him freely, and there was nothing else that Gabriel could do but give back that same faith, that same love.
Raphael quickly turned sour at the admission, and Gabriel could see his jaw clenching as the elder archangel took on a battle stance and got ready to attack. “Then I suppose this is where our ties will end, brother,” he said, simply and cleanly, and even though Gabriel did know this would happen, it still didn’t stop him from feeling the pain of those words. No matter what, Raphael had still been one of his closest brothers for an indescribable amount of time, and to lose him like this… it really hurt a lot.
Still, if this was how things were going to go then Gabriel knew this was what needed to be done. Pushing away the pain and the sorrow, Gabriel took on his own stance, sword humming in his hand as the two archangels prepared to face off in what would be the first and last battle between them.
Raphael was the one who moved first, lunging forward with his sword in a jab as the elder archangel attempted to draw first blood. Gabriel quickly shifted back to avoid the blade before retaliating with a swing of his own, twisting around and trying to strike Raphael by his side. In response Raphael ducked down, neatly avoiding the blow and kept himself low to try and catch Gabriel off guard from below.
Managing to catch that in time, Gabriel jumped before Raphael could attack, pressing down against the blade with the heel of his shoe and used it as leverage to push himself onto the nearest wall and then leaping off that wall as well, using the momentum to his advantage as he swooped in and attacked Raphael from behind. The elder archangel managed to intercept him before he could strike properly, clashing against Gabriel with their swords for another moment more before pushing him back, and then going forward again to continue their fight.
That was how the battle went on between the two archangels, the moments filled with nothing but action and reaction as they pitted themselves against one another. Both of them fought with an intensity not seen from either of them since the Fall, their wrath and Grace easily felt by all within the room. Their blades continued to clash against each other in sharp, ringing tones, sparks flashing as their Grace burned and collided with each other, neither of the archangels giving an inch to the other. They couldn’t, not when there was so much at stake on both ends.
Eventually, though, Gabriel started to gain an edge, spurred on by the experiences he had on Earth while he still had been Loki. Unlike Raphael who had only been up in Heaven for the longest time, Gabriel himself had spent far more time away from Heaven and so was much more used to his physical body than Raphael would ever be. Raphael wasn’t used to the reactions of the human body and of the countless instincts built in naturally to the human mind and how they would affect him in battle.
Gabriel knew though, and he used that to his advantage, tricking the instincts of Raphael’s human vessel to react in ways that could be exploited to his benefit, and wore the other archangel down with jabs and strikes and cuts. None of them were fatal, but all of them were enough to slow down Raphael considerably and that gave Gabriel a bit of hope. If he could drag this out long enough, occupy Raphael until the Winchesters managed to get Eve out then maybe, just maybe-
Raphael stumbled back, a hand clutched around one of the bigger wounds that Gabriel had inflicted on him. The angel blade that he had been holding dropped onto the ground with a clatter as Raphael grasped at the corner of one of the tables, struggling to keep upright. Gabriel took a few cautious steps closer, looking not as bloodied as the other was, but almost just as worn out from their battle. He made sure to keep a tight grip around his sword, eying Raphael carefully for a moment before speaking. “We don’t need to fight anymore, Raph. Just stand down, and this can be over easily.”
Rather than listening to him however, Raphael only scowled, nothing but disgust written across his vessel’s face. “I will never submit to the likes of you and your ilk,” he snarled out.
“Raph-” Gabriel tried to reason again, to do something and just stop this before it was too late, but the elder archangel cut across him with the words that Gabriel hoped he never had to hear.
“Crowley! Finish the ritual!”
Everybody stopped for a moment at the shout, including Dean and Sam who had managed to get the bloodied, battered body of Eve nearly to the door. Standing on the opposite side of the room where the archangels were, Crowley raised a hand and smirked thoroughly, looking quite victorious. “About bloody time, I say,” he remarked before proceeding to snap his fingers.
The doors in front of the Winchesters instantly burst wide open, and there was no time to react at all before giant black blurs lunged out from the other side of the threshold and swiftly dragged Eve away from the Winchester’s grip, for no human could ever match the monstrous strength that hellhounds possessed. Castiel quickly moved, taking both Sam and Dean out of harm’s way as the hellhounds literally tore into Eve, sending blood splattering everywhere across the ground and Gabriel could do nothing but stare at the sight of the Mother of All being made into hellhound chow.
Sam, however, quickly noticed something else entirely, and he swiftly pointed it out to the rest of them. “The blood,” he breathed out, gesturing to the stained floor at their feet.
Gabriel quickly followed the human's gaze down to the ground, watching as Eve's blood started to move by itself, twisting and turning across the marble-tiled floor as it all flowed towards the nearest wall and arranged itself into an intricate pattern, which Gabriel could instantly place in his mind, even though he had only seen it one other time before, and that had been even before the concept of time itself even existed.
“No!” the archangel shouted, but it was too late-he could already feel the air starting to crackle and hum with energy from the power of the spell, the very world seemingly shifting around him as the blood on the wall flared with an unholy red light. A thunderous crack resounded from the wall, and then two, and then the light burst out in a giant shockwave that rippled through and sent him stumbling backwards from the sheer force of it. His wings flared out, trying to balance him and keep Gabriel on his feet as the archangel tried to see through the light and fire of Purgatory, feeling the heat of it on his skin.
Both Crowley and Raphael were standing at the entrance, and the King of Hell was making a complex gesture with his hand, getting ready to bring the souls forth from Purgatory. Gabriel could hear it all too easily-the sounds of tens and hundreds and thousands and millions of souls rushing out from all corners of Purgatory and barrelling through this one, single exit that was now open to them. It was a disjointed canopy of roars, a staccato of howls and moans of countless souls, old and new, monster and human, now reaching out through to the other side, all of them clambering for freedom from the confines of that place.
Crowley raised his hand, drawing out the souls and the roar grew louder as Gabriel could see them as the light finally faded, overtaken by the near-blinding flare of a thousand million souls as they wormed their way through the hole in Purgatory and started to come out-
Suddenly the demon found himself being flung aside, thrown to the opposite wall without a second thought and Crowley grunted as he slammed into a spot next to Gabriel and crumpled down to the floor. He wasn't knocked out nor injured too harshly, but all the same the damage had already been done, and Crowley grunted as he pushed himself up to his feet and scowled in thinly-veiled disgust at the perpetrator.
“And you all say we're the untrustworthy ones,” the King of Hell muttered darkly, turning his head just enough to spare Gabriel a glance. “Ball's in your court now, Gabriel.” And after having said that he swiftly disappeared, making an exit before things got too out of hand for his tastes.
Gabriel turned back towards Raphael once Crowley was gone, staring with wide, surprised eyes as he could only watch the sight of the elder archangel taking in all the souls that were spiralling out from Purgatory, knowing that there was nothing he could do about it now. Castiel and the Winchesters had the same reaction as well, all three of them doing nothing more but to stay rooted to the ground and look completely lost as they watched Raphael claiming everything that came out from Purgatory. Everything, including the Leviathans.
With the countless number of souls that came out from Purgatory, it almost seemed like forever in its own way before the last of them entered Raphael, and once the last soul left, the wall snapped itself back together, almost looking as if it wasn't touched at all, save for the now dried blood pattern painted across the surface. The ensuing silence that followed after everything, felt almost too overwhelming, speaking of too many things that Gabriel did not dare to think about at this moment. He glanced towards Castiel, Sam and Dean, giving them a small nod before he returned his gaze to the now still and silent Raphael and took a small, cautious step forward, eyeing the other archangel carefully.
“Raph?” he ventured slowly, taking another step forward, fingers itching to bring out his angel blade again, because his senses were screaming at him to get out get out this isn't Raphael anymore GET OUT. “Raph? You in there? Speak to me, bro.”
There was still no response from Raphael, and Gabriel took his chances and got even closer, reaching out with one arm towards the other's shoulder and nearly touching him-
It was at that moment that Raphael chose to open his eyes, and Gabriel only had a split second to see the countless souls reflected in them before he found himself being thrown back across the room, flung away under the sheer number of souls that the elder archangel commanded now. The Winchesters hurried their way over to help Gabriel after he fell to the floor, while Castiel foolishly faced up against his now powered up rival, eyes narrowing as he spoke. “You need to let the souls go, Raphael.”
The archangel only tilted his vessel's head, looking sincerely unimpressed. “And let you have them instead, Castiel?” he asked, and as he questioned a small smile started to form on his face, one that did nothing but send chills down Gabriel's spine as he saw it appear.
“This is no longer about the war, Raphael,” Cas quickly tried to reason, “You need to let the souls go before they take you over.”
Raphael shook his head in response, smile widening. “The souls,” he echoed the angel, raising a hand and studying it in a way that was not like Raphael at all. “To have this amount of power at your fingertips,” he said, looking up from his hand and stared at Gabriel then, and it was sickening to hear that strange happy thrill that had suddenly crept into the edges of his voice at that. “I can see why anybody would be after something like this so badly.”
Shit, this was really starting to get from bad to worse. Gabriel pried himself from the support that the Winchesters were giving him, taking one step forward as he stared right into his brother's eyes and tried to plead one last time. “C'mon, bro,” he started, forcing a smile on his own face. “The souls aren't going to do jack for you. Let them go before it’s too late.” Before things became irreparable.
For a moment, Gabriel could see the other's eyes soften and it almost seemed like Raphael was going to listen-but then that moment passed and Raphael's expression instantly hardened again, and Gabriel found himself being thrown around to another side of the room, this time with much more force. He could hear Castiel's surprised cry as he collided brutally against the wall, but Gabriel found himself unable to respond as Raphael continued to pin him, pressed down by the sheer power that the elder archangel now held in his hands.
“It's only now when you try pulling that card on me, Gabriel?” Raphael asked, slowly moving towards him. Castiel and the Winchesters also attempted to get to Gabriel and presumably pull him out of harm's way but Raphael was faster and also stronger, quickly sending all three of them crashing to the floor with a simple wave of his hand, without even so much as blinking. Gabriel's eyes widened at the sight, struggling all that he could against the force pinning him against the wall but to no avail. Raphael took the last few steps and stopped before him, laying one hand on his cheek as the elder archangel turned his heard around so that their gazes could meet, hazel brown meeting jet black.
The smile on Raphael's face turned mirthless and wry as he looked at Gabriel. “I was the one who had to keep everything together,” he muttered, a pang of regret in his voice. “Michael was so focused on nothing else but Lucifer and you were gone, too. There was nobody who I could ask for help, nobody who I could talk to.” A flash of hurt crossed the elder archangel's face then, just a brief glimpse of all the years that he had to spend in making sure Heaven was in order when there had been no more order in the first place. “Where were you when I needed you most, Gabriel?”
Gabriel swallowed dryly, keeping his gaze fixed onto Raphael's while trying to speak, to apologize, to say something because he had never thought about it that way, about how it was Raphael who was saddled with everything, when everybody else couldn't be there. All this time, and he had never realized- “Raph-I didn't-”
Rather than having made it better though, Gabriel's words only seemed to make things worse. Raphael's expression darkened, and in the next instant there was nothing but pain and Gabriel was choking on it blindly, feeling the agony crushing his bones and seeping through his Grace. Raphael's power was crushing him almost literally, and if he pushed just a little more, Gabriel was certain that it would smash his Grace into a million scattered pieces and send him out to the winds.
“Of course you didn't know,” he hissed back, unforgiving and harsh. “All of you were ever only occupied with yourselves. But now I stand triumphant above you all. You and Michael and Lucifer will know what your mistakes are, and you will all pay for it.”
Raphael raised his hand and clenched his fist after saying that, and Gabriel could feel the pressure against him increasing, crushing him tighter and tighter until there was nothing but pain, nothing but agony. Gabriel opened his mouth to cry out and somewhere in the distance he heard somebody calling out his name over and over again in distress and panic but the noises were starting to fade, senses disappearing as he felt himself breaking apart shard by shard, his Grace slowly flickering out under the strength of his brother-
Then suddenly it all stopped, and Gabriel felt himself falling to the floor, crumpling into a heap on the ground as the pressure crushing him suddenly vanished without a trace of it left. Castiel was helping him up at the next instant, a hand pressing on his chest and Gabriel felt the familiar warmth of Castiel's Grace as the angel passed some of his own over to the archangel. Gabriel forced his eyes open, staring down at the hand still on his chest for a moment before he turned his gaze towards the angel beside him and asked the question. “What happened?”
Castiel didn't answer the question directly, but he shifted his sight and Gabriel followed, pausing when he finally saw what the angel was seeing and felt fear rolling up from his gut. Raphael was on his knees on the ground, one hand clutched at his side while another clawed at his own throat. The elder archangel was gagging and heaving for breath, seemingly choking on something while the rest of his vessel trembled and shook violently. At first Gabriel was lost as to why Raphael was suddenly acting like that, but just as he was about to ask, he could feel the sickening pulse of something torrid and poisonous sweeping through the room, and the surge of black that crawled through the veins of Raphael's vessel made things click in Gabriel's mind.
“The Leviathans,” he hissed, panic swelling now as the implications started to run in his mind. The Leviathans were already starting to take over Raphael, and it was going to be a matter of time before they'd succeed. They had to be sent back to Purgatory now, before it was too late and the world would be doomed.
Gabriel gritted his teeth. “We need to reopen Purgatory,” he started, glancing around as his mind whirled, trying to think of something, anything that could work. “Raph's already a lost cause by now; we're going to have to throw him in with the Leviathans before they take over.” Father, it hurt a lot to say that, but there was no other way now-this was the best way to ensure that all of the Leviathans would return to Purgatory. If one of them even remained in this world, then everything would be for naught.
“Well, great,” Dean started, scowling. “Except we don't know how to open Purgatory in the first place.”
“That's not true,” Castiel cut in then, voice soft as he glanced between the rest of them. “I know the spell that Crowley used. He... shared it with me while we were still working together.”
The archangel could see a pulse twitching in Dean's jaw, but he quickly got over it and nodded curtly. “Alright, so we've got the spell. Cas can still open Purgatory right back up and we'll send Teenage Mutant Ninja Angel back home.”
A dark chuckle came from behind them after those words. “If it were that easy, things wouldn't be so complicated in this world anymore.”
Four heads turned around and an equal number of pairs of eyes widened in surprise at the sudden appearance of Jack Crow yet again, the boy Trickster looking at them all with a mirthless little gleam in his eyes. Dean regarded the psychopomp with notable suspicion, but it was Sam who asked the question, frowning. “What do you mean?”
“Think of Purgatory as a hive,” Crow started, one eye fixated on them as another glanced up to the tattered brim of his fedora, playing at the edge of it with a hand. “And Eve is the Mother of All, the Queen. When the Queen dies, what do you think will happen to the rest?”
“There will be no order, no direction,” Castiel answered, blinking as he quickly linked the similarities from what he knew to the words he had just said. “Purgatory will be in chaos.”
Jack Crow hummed a sound of agreement. “When there is chaos the waters of the Lake of Souls will be disturbed, along with the first beasts who resides within them,” he said, and smiled an unkind smile at the surprised looks that crossed everyone's face at the revelation. “There must always be one who leads Purgatory, in order to keep the balance.”
A leader of Heaven, a leader of Hell, and a leader of Purgatory. It did make sense, once Gabriel thought about it for a moment. But that wasn't the point now-Raphael would be lost to the Leviathans at any moment, and they needed to do something.
“Isn't there anybody inside Purgatory who can do that?” Sam questioned.
The psychopomp shook his head. “Why do you think the dragons needed a virgin to bring forth Eve?” he asked back in turn, voice dropping to a rasp. “It's about the power, vessel of Lucifer. Surely you can understand that.”
Gabriel rolled the words around in his head, repeating them over and over again within his mind. “So basically,” he started, slowly and carefully, because he could feel the dots connecting in his head and somehow, somehow the possibility he had thought up didn't seem to frighten him at all, even though Gabriel knew that it should. But there was nothing else he could think of, and if this would guarantee the safety of everything in this world, then... “Basically,” he repeated, steeling himself, “If anybody could handle the power you're talking about, he or she or it would be Purgatory's new leader?”
Crow seemed to pause at that, red eyes gazing at Gabriel for a brief, telling moment before the boy dipped his head in acknowledgment. “There have only been few who have managed to control that power,” he informed, seemingly already having caught on to what Gabriel thought. “Demons would be destroyed instantly. Anybody from Purgatory would simply go mad from it; humans, of course, end up like the former Mother of All. Angels would only end up like the Healer over there.” He gestured to the now-writhing Raphael, veins still dancing in black blood and Gabriel could feel their influence expanding, almost taking over his brother.
Gabriel knew that this was what he had to do. He pushed himself away from Castiel's aid, stumbling forward towards Raphael now as he said his next few words. “Cas, start the spell.”
It only took a moment after that for Castiel to catch on, and the angel's eyes instantly widened. “Gabriel, no.”
“What-” Dean started, totally lost in the conversation, but Sam caught on as well as soon as he saw Castiel's response and informed his brother.
“Dean,” he said, biting his lip. “Gabriel's going to do what I did with Lucifer.”
Dean stared blankly at his brother for a moment before the words caught up with him, and then he was turning his head around, staring at Gabriel with a wide-eyed look of his own before he narrowed his eyes and hissed out fiercely. “What the fuck, Gabriel?”
“It's the only way,” Gabriel pointed out, giving himself a moment before he bent down and picked up Raphael with minimal effort, relishing the warmth and strength of his own Grace for what most likely would be the last time. “You Idiotchesters aren't going to let each other sacrifice yourselves, and Castiel's still a bona-fide angel.”
“But you are too-” Sam started to say, but Gabriel cut him off with a shake of his head.
“I've never been a complete angel,” he finally admitted, recalling the words that Loki had told him last time. The angel who left Heaven and became a Trickster. You are worth so much more than you can imagine. Now, perhaps, he could finally see what it was that Loki meant back then. Right from the start he had never been just Gabriel, just the Messenger of Heaven; he had also been Loki, a Trickster, a pagan god of his own right. He wasn't quite complete in any way that one could look at it-never belonging to a single place, but it was in that grey, in-between area that made him who he was, who he is.
Sam fell silent after that response, but Castiel spoke up again, and his voice was pleading this time, desperate and it hurt Gabriel's heart so much to hear that, because Castiel should have never even gotten close to him in the first place. “Gabriel, please. There has to be some other way.”
“There is no other way,” Gabriel returned insistently, turning back after those words and moving towards the blood-stained wall with Raphael struggling at his side. The Leviathans would take over his brother any moment now, he could tell. “Say the spell, Cas. Please.”
“Gabriel-”
“Say it! Or I'll dig it out of your head and do it myself.”
For a moment there was silence and everything seemed to still for a moment, and Gabriel really was almost going to force the spell out from Castiel when he heard the angel start to speak, the words rolling off in hitches of breath as Cas forced himself to recite the incantation, reopening the door to Purgatory and finally getting this thing done.
The wall began to crack again as the spell was spoken, bits and chunks of the symbol burning away as the door was opened and Gabriel could feel the heat of Purgatory against his skin again, a heat the archangel supposed he would have to get used to in time-time which Gabriel was certain he would have a lot of.
Raphael (or rather, the Leviathans) struggled against him now, pinned by the pull of Purgatory against them as Gabriel turned his head to look at Castiel and the Winchesters one last time, an apologetic expression crossing his face when he saw the heartbreaking look on the angel's face, before he turned his gaze to Dean and smiled wryly at him.
“Make sure to take good care of Cas now, Dean-o,” he allowed himself to say before throwing himself right through the hole, Raphael's vessel following alongside him. A shout of his name cried out in-between the seconds where he crossed the threshold, but after that there was nothing but the wind roaring in his ears as he fell, falling through along with the Leviathans screaming beside him as the pit better known as Purgatory roared and opened up wide, ready to swallow them both and keep them there for all eternity. Gabriel didn’t know what was going to happen once he went through, didn’t know if Raphael would even survive with all those souls inside that vessel, didn’t know if he actually would even live through this himself. A million and one things could happen the moment they entered Purgatory, and Gabriel didn’t know any of them. There was still a damned good chance he might actually die again the second he went through, but strangely the thought didn’t scare him as much as it should have.
He could feel the heat and the velocity cutting through his body now, starting to rip his body into shreds and the Leviathan's screams continued to echo right beside him. There was a roar as the souls of Purgatory started getting pulled back by the nature of the place they were falling into, each soul dragging out another cry from the other archangel. Gabriel himself didn’t watch and only heard, but even those screams eventually faded into background noise as he thought and remembered about Dean and Sam and Castiel, recalling the short time he had spent with them-a time that had felt like a lifetime to him, a lifetime that had changed him much more than the rest of his existence ever could.
Gabriel let a smile cross his face and closed his eyes, waiting for the heat and the souls to consume him whole.
If this was how his life was supposed to end, then it wasn’t that bad of a way to go at all.
← twelfth act (part b) | epilogue →
They began their journey first thing in the morning.
Bobby sent them off with a gruff reminder to call him when they needed any help ‘because you idjits are going to need it’, and after having discussed it over breakfast, the four of them had agreed that it might be best that the brothers drive over to their destination, rather than have the angels zap them.
There were a few reasons for this: one, both Sam and Dean were going to need all the weapons they could carry in the Impala, and it would be a little impractical for Gabriel and Castiel to keep drawing out weapons for them, when they needed to save up all the energy they could for the oncoming battle. Going up against both Crowley and Raphael wasn’t going to be an easy feat, even with Gabriel having regained his powers. There were still many other aspects that could be used against them. Two, the spell they had to open up Purgatory wouldn't work until the lunar eclipse, as Loki had informed them last night. And three, letting Dean drive would simply benefit everybody in the long run-the less he had to complain about, the better it would be for everyone involved.
Once the Winchesters were ready and on their way towards their destination, Castiel returned to Heaven in order to muster up whatever supporters still sticking around to help him. Gabriel went off to the pagans with Loki, finding the ones agreeable to enter the final battleground and settle things once and for all. Not many of the gods were willing to put themselves up against angels and demons so readily, especially not after the Judeo-Christian Apocalypse and the damage that Lucifer had wrought across the pantheons. A few of them did change their minds though, after Loki brought up the Leviathans and the threat they posed to them and the world. Others only scoffed and waved the danger away, saying that they were under no obligation to help.
By the time nightfall came and time was up, the two Tricksters had only managed to get about ten or so of the pagans to help them out; the numbers included Fenrir and the others who helped out at Oregon, Orpheus, Amaterasu, Susano-o and last but not least Kali as well as Baldur. To say that Gabriel was surprised with the last two would be an understatement, but there was no real time to ask either of them for their reasons to help out.
“You gotta go, Gabe,” Loki nudged him with her elbow, throwing a pointed look in the general direction of where the Winchesters-as well as the decisive battleground-would be. “I'll round up the guys who're helping out and send them over your way later, as soon as possible.”
Gabriel nodded, already feeling the dreading anticipation building up in his gut. This was it, he knew. Once he went off, there was no telling what could happen. He might live or he might die instead, or maybe something else entirely different would happen. There was no way of knowing now, what with the world the way it was. Only time could tell.
He turned and gave the Trickster one last glance, slowly starting to spread out all eight of his wings. “If anything happens to me...” he started, wanting to cover his bases. He had to cover his bases-he couldn't run away now, not at this point. This wasn't like with the Apocalypse and Lucifer; this was much more than that, more than just choosing a side and sticking with it. This was about fighting for what he had come to believe in, and the things in the world he wanted to protect. There wasn't many... but it was still more than enough for him. He had never needed so much right from the start anyway.
Loki only smiled gently and nodded in response. “Don't worry,” she assured him, “I know you'll be fine.”
The archangel smiled back before he took off to his destination, and then the world vanished before him in a blur and the loud beat of giant wings.
Of all the places in the world, the last spot that Gabriel expected to find himself going to again was the Elysian Fields hotel.
The place had been deserted ever since the incident with Lucifer, and sometime during the time between then and now, most of the lights had gone out. The lights at the front of the establishment remained as some of the few that still worked, although they flickered from time to time.
Tonight though, it was deserted no longer, as Gabriel observed the mix of demons and angels that patrolled around the perimeter of the building. This night stood as the most important one for all of them-this was the night the eclipse would happen, and once the eclipse passed there wouldn't be another eclipse like this for a good long while. This would be the night where everything was going to be settled; one side would emerge victorious, or maybe none of them would win at all. The latter option seemed far more likely once the Leviathans were released.
Still, if the archangel had to be honest, what really unnerved him more at this moment was the countless number of crows that seemed to pop up all over the place. He could see hundreds of them on trees and rocks and anything else that they could perch on, including the roof of the hotel. All of them did nothing but watch silently, dark eyes staring at the battleground that laid out before them. Considering what Gabriel did know about the crows, it was safe to say that their presence was a little jarring, a sentiment that both Winchesters seemed to share.
“What the hell is with all these crows?” Dean asked not too kindly as he attempted to shoo away some of the birds, but to no effect; all the crows did was to squawk and flap their wings in response.
Sam gave a cursory look at the birds himself, frowning. “Did Crow call them here?”
“Maybe yes, maybe no, maybe maybe.”
All three heads turned around at the new-familiar raspy voice coming from behind them, and Dean instantly scowled at the figure that had appeared. “What are you doing here, birdbrain?”
Jack Crow hardly seemed ruffled by the moniker that Dean had just addressed him by, and if anything, only looked amused judging from the gleam in his wine-red eyes. The boy Trickster straightened his fedora, pulling the brim of it upwards, so that his face was fully visible in the dim moonlight, highlighting the sharp contours of both his cheeks and his chin.
“Is there a reason for everything that we do?” the boy rasped out, slowly tilting his head. “Just as there is order there is also chaos, and as there is life there is also death.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Dean demanded, never having been one for cryptic and strange answers. Considering that this was Jack Crow they were currently talking to, Gabriel couldn't really blame him for that.
Rather than answer the hunter, Crow instead opted to do a humanly impossible back flip that landed him right onto the hood of the Impala, an action that instantly earned a shout from Dean (“Watch where you're jumping, asshole!”) and a sympathetic wince from Sam, while Gabriel let out his own snort of amusement. The boy proceeded to crouch on the edge of the hood, despite the death glares that Dean was throwing at him now, perching on it in the same way that a bird (crow) would. Red eyes twinkled at them once more before the boy finally did respond. “We are the Murder, the ones who ferry the soul between reality and non-existence. And when the soul dies, we are the ones who bring the tattered remains back to the Lake of Souls, where they are remade and repaired and then the cycle begins anew.”
Gabriel's eyes widened as the name clicked in his mind. The Lake of Souls. But that place was in-“Purgatory.”
Both Winchesters instantly turned their heads to him, their eyes just as wide as his as they, too, put two and two together. “Then the human souls-” Sam started, quickly linking everything together in his head.
Crow dipped his head, and already they could see the boy start to fade, letting the darkness of the night swallow him back up. “Where everybody comes from and nobody goes,” he quoted turning more and more transparent until the last thing they saw was the smile that had been on his face. “That's where you're gonna find Jack's crows.” With the last part spoken out, the boy vanished entirely, leaving nothing but mist and shadows in his wake.
“Where everybody comes from,” Gabriel echoed blankly after a pause, seeing the truth in the phrase now. “Everybody. As in people. Humans.”
Dean's expression hardened. “That means there's a whole lake of human souls bubbling around in Purgatory, too?”
“The whole expression of being boiled,” Sam swiftly pointed out, looking between the other two. “It's like water-boiling cleans it. Burns out all the impurities. Makes it pure again.”
“And when the soul is pure again, the crows bring it back out,” Gabriel finished, feeling stuck between awe and uncertainty. To think that such a system had been in place and he had never known about it… Father, this was beyond anything he could have ever guessed. “If Crowley and Raphael are going to open Purgatory, I'm pretty sure that all those new souls will be one heck of a power boost.”
“Which is pretty much the last thing that we need right now,” Dean went with a scowl, turning upwards to the sky after that and swearing. “Goddammit.”
It was at that moment when Cas decided to finally show up, appearing with the beat of his own wings, looking at the rest of them. “I've gathered as many helpers as I can,” he reported, inclining his head. “I've directed them to spread out around the field. They will start attacking at my signal.”
Dean took out his gun and cocked it once Cas said that, looking just about as grim and ready as he could ever be. “Well then,” he said, “Let's get this show on the road.”
Castiel's supporters were the ones who moved first. They had already been ready and waiting for the command, and once the signal had been given all of them immediately rushed out from their spots, fierce and strong like the soldiers they were all supposed to be, as they clashed head on with demons and angels alike.
Gabriel started to move once the fight began, splitting himself from the Winchesters as he brought out his wings and started to dart around the skirmishes, both physical as well as metaphysical. Angels from both factions were flashing around him as he flew, most of them occupied, but some of them with the intent of going after him despite knowing who he was. Gabriel managed to shake them off quick enough-no angel could ever really be as fast as an Archangel, and there was a reason why he had the title of Messenger-and some others were repelled by the ones in Castiel's faction, pushing his pursuers back and using the chance to deal some damage.
“Go with haste, brother!” Gabriel heard one of them call out to him, when they clashed against another set of the archangel's pursuers, and Gabriel only had a moment to nod in acknowledgment as he quickened his pace. The world blurred around him at the velocity of his flight, so fast that even the angels and demons were nothing but indistinguishable sensations-something that Gabriel was thankful for, in his mind. There was only so long he could see the angels battling and killing each other without remorse or regret. It did nothing but remind him of the battle that led to Lucifer's Falling.
Why would you let this happen, Raph? The archangel thought to himself as he pushed himself harder, wanting to cross the distance as quickly as he could. The sooner this would end, the sooner all this killing would stop. It needed to end, and it needed to end now.
As he neared the building, Gabriel could feel the strength of the Enochian wards repelling him, resisting his presence like a physical wall. Of course, as a proper archangel once again, the wards had their effect on him again, but it wasn't as if Gabriel was just an angel, or just an archangel. Gabriel started to draw back his wings, two at a time as he slowed down his flight, locking up the angel part of him while bringing out the other side that the Trickster had granted him-the identity of Loki, the god of mischief, the Trickster of the Norse pantheon.
He stumbled on the ground when he tucked away the last of his wings, sealing them up momentarily with the pagan magic that now ran across his veins. He could feel the presence of the Enochian wards instantly disappearing from his senses, rendered all but useless now against his non-angelic side.
Still, things were hardly going to get any easier with the withdrawal of his Grace. A pair of angels from Raphael's camp were instantly on him the moment Gabriel sealed up his angelic powers, rushing at him with their swords as they snarled out at him in anger. “Betrayer!”
“Nope,” Gabriel replied, readying his fingers. “Just a Trickster.” He snapped his fingers right after that, and in the next instant a purple and red blur flashed pass Gabriel, knocking down the two angels and effectively stopping them in their tracks. The archangel closed his eyes the next second after that, preventing his eyeballs from being burnt out as both of them were killed (Gabriel quickly suspected that Loki must have done something to make that possible, because he's pretty sure that only angels could kill angels).
He only opened his eyes after a pause, trying to avoid looking at the scorch marks that had appeared on the ground (he knew all too well what they were) and directed his gaze to the giant purple and crimson furred wolf standing before him. “Nice job, Fen.”
Fenrir let out a low growl from the back of his throat, eyeing Gabriel for a few silent moments before replying mentally. All of us have arrived; we've split into groups as per instructed and performing the roles the Trickster has assigned to us, he paused for a moment before adding on almost reluctantly, I will accompany you.
Somehow, Gabriel felt himself grinning at the words. “Aw, Fen. I didn't know you cared.”
The wolf snorted, quickly glancing away. This is not the time for endearments.
“I know,” the archangel quickly turned serious again, turning to look at the entrance of the hotel. “The infiltration is over. Time for the sabotage.”
To put it in layman's terms, the plan went something like this: Gabriel, like before, would infiltrate the building and sabotage the wards keeping Castiel and his angels away. One of the pagan groups would help the Winchesters get to the building while the rest would help in the battle. Once the wards fell, it would be a direct charge into the building, and hopefully the confusion caused by that would let them locate and get to where Crowley and Raphael would be performing the spell without much trouble. In a nutshell, the entire plan had a heavy reliance on Gabriel, which was kind of ironic considering the entire situation. Still, the archangel wasn't going to say anything about it-he had chosen to fight, after all. He had made his decision to stay here and fight for this world he had lived in and ended up dying in.
Personally, Gabriel was a bit skeptical that things could work out that well, especially since he had employed pretty much the same trick last time (granted, though, he still hadn't gotten his powers back then). Then again, there really wasn't much in the world that could go up against a pagan god, including Enochian; the basis of their respective powers was on a far different level, wholly separate from each other. It had been an old loophole that had existed for a long time already, one that had no way of being corrected-it was something that just stuck on.
There had been many times when Gabriel had abused said loophole, but up until now it wasn't on the level of what he was doing right now. As he darted around the corridors of the hotel he could still feel the power of the Enochian wards pressing down on him, trying to reach into his angelic side and attack it. The pagan part of him though managed to prevent that from happening, blocking out the wards from getting to him. Still, Gabriel knew that it was just a matter of time before that would change-he could feel his magic chipping away, wearing down from the effort of keeping his Grace hidden. He needed to destroy the wards as soon as possible, before he used up all the pagan magic within him.
Turning left at the next intersection, the archangel glanced around as he moved, trying his best to sense which room held the angel (or angels) that were putting up the wards. There was no way wards like these could just be painted on, as far as Gabriel was aware of; at least one angel needed to maintain them constantly, or it would easily fall from the fierceness of the battle.
It's gotta be at a central location... Gabriel thought to himself as he continued to search for his target-not exactly the easiest thing to do, considering how more often than not the archangel relied on his Grace to do the job instead. Just using his pagan magic was something that he had not done for a good, long while, and Gabriel had to admit that he was pretty rusty with it. Not exactly the best condition to do this in, but it wasn't like they had any other chances. This was the only one they got.
Fenrir ran alongside him all this while, the wolf already having done a good deal to help in narrowing down where they had to search (contrary to what it looked on the outside, the place was actually quite big); it was Fenrir that got him down to his corridor, and had announced that they were close to their target when they made a right at the next intersection they encountered.
I can smell their Grace, the wolf-god remarked, and then snorted. It reeks of betrayal.
Gabriel frowned at the word that Fenrir had used. Considering everything, betrayal seemed like a pretty strange word. Still, the archangel supposed he could think about it later. Right now, what was more important was to take down the wards and get this entire show rolling.
“Lead me over, Fen,” he replied, slowing down just enough so that the canine could take over and lead the way.
The wolf growled an affirmative, quickening his pace to move ahead and start bringing the archangel towards their location. Gabriel swiftly followed behind, tuning his senses solely onto Fenrir now and simply let the wolf-god do the directing. He followed the wolf up a few set of stairs and a couple more turns, running through the corridors for a while more before Fenrir sent over a signal. We're close.
Gabriel sent out an acknowledgement, almost going to reach out for his blade before he remember that he couldn't, not until the wards were down. Mentally cursing himself for that lack of foresight, he reached out to Fenrir once again. You're going to have to do the battling here, Fen.
Fenrir snorted in response. Why do you think I'm here? He quipped back easily, before proceeding to let out a roar and smashed through the door without pause. Gabriel used the ensuing dust cloud as a cover and let himself into the room, although he barely took a few steps in before a sudden flare of Grace burst out from almost nowhere-Fenrir had already made his first kill. The archangel raised an arm to shield his eyes, blocking out the light even as he felt the force of said Grace sweep past him and across the rest of the room.
The world slowly returned as he lowered his hand, afterimages dancing across his eyes which Gabriel attempted to shake off quickly as he started to move. The death of one of the angels had already attracted the attention of the rest, and this time he could sense them coming towards both him and Fenrir, and there was no way they could take on something of that number. He needed to get rid of the wards. Now.
Gabriel quickly scanned around the room, attempting to locate where the master ward was as Fenrir continued to fight against the rest of the angels. The wolf-god had assumed his human form now, darting around quickly and neatly avoiding all the attacks that the angels were directing towards him. It was only a matter of time though before that would change, and Gabriel had to finish his objective before that happened. Taking a chance, the archangel reached deep inside him, dipping briefly into his Grace. Instantly, he could feel the agony of the Enochian wards pulling at him from top and bottom, left and right, threading through all eight of his wings and pinning them down to the ground. It hurt almost unlike anything he had felt before, but Gabriel gritted his teeth and pushed through the pain and reached out with his angelic senses to find... there!
He gasped out in relief when he withdrew from his Grace, nearly falling onto his knees from the effort of the last minute or two. Still, he managed to keep himself upright, only buckling a little before he grabbed the wall for support and pulled himself back together, gathering what strength he could muster up, he started to move towards where he had sensed the master ward. It was hardly far from where he was, so if he moved just a little bit more-
Look out!
Gabriel barely had a moment to react to the warning before he found himself being abruptly shoved down to the ground, but he didn't even need to see what happened to know what had just taken place, just by hearing the grunt of pain that came afterward.
“Fenrir!” he cried out in alarm, whipping around to stare at the sight of his son being stabbed through the side with an angel blade. The sight was like lighting a match into a barrel of oil-Gabriel could feel both his power and Grace bubbling in rage, boiling violently as anger coursed through him. The archangel let out a violent cry, pushing himself up on his feet and promptly threw himself towards Fenrir and the angels who had hurt his own child so.
The angels instantly geared up to attack, but fighting was not what Gabriel was after, not now. He brushed past the angels, startling them when he didn't attack, and instead slammed his palm right onto the wall-right over where the master ward was.
“End,” the archangel hissed out in Enochian, and in that instant he felt the world changing around him. Under his hand the ward dissipated, burned away by his power and he could literally feel the earth moving under his feet. His wings burst out from the confines of his pagan magic, brought back out once more when the oppression of his Grace was taken away and Gabriel could feel everything now rushing back through his form, entwining tightly with the pagan part of him. It was just like before-except not wholly, because now things were different. Now, he wasn't running away.
Gabriel could feel the other angels already scattering, fleeing from the avenging wrath of an archangel-but Gabriel had never been one for killing. He let them run off, watching as they all brought out their wings and escaped. He turned his gaze down once they were gone, gazing at the wounded figure of Fenrir as he knelt down and placed a hand on the wolf-god's wound, instantly healing it.
Fenrir groaned and opened his eyes, slowly focusing on the archangel as he muttered quietly. “...Father?”
Gabriel could feel tears starting to swell up in his eyes, but he quickly pushed them back before they could be seen and smiled at his son. “Yeah, Fen. I'm here.”
The archangel spent a few minutes to bring Fenrir over to somewhere safe, ensuring that the wolf-god was alright before he returned back to the battlefield. Now that the wards were down Castiel's supporters were gaining an edge, no longer held down by the spells that were restricting them. The other pagans were gaining ground as well now, spurred forward by what he and Fenrir had managed to accomplish.
Castiel joined him as he was flying back to the hotel, looking notably worn and tired but still managing to keep himself going. “Sam and Dean have managed to get into the hotel,” he reported, raising his voice over the noise of the battlefield.
“Alright,” Gabriel returned, pushing himself faster with his wings. “Let's bring this fight over to Crowley and Raphael.” Saying that, he burst through the doors with Castiel alongside him, and the air thundered from the sound from all of his eight wings when he appeared beside where Dean and Sam were currently hiding, angel blades in their hands.
Both Winchesters jumped when they heard his wings, and Dean almost poked his eye out with the blade he had been holding before managing to actually relax. “Jesus, Gabriel,” he started, sounding both relieved and irritated at the same time. “Don't just pop up like Cas does.”
“Would it make you feel better if I said 'no'?” the archangel replied smartly, smiling in amusement at the glare that Dean sent back to him in return. Ah, good times, good times. It was so nice to know that some of the better things never really seemed to change.
Sam cleared his throat to get their attention. “The eclipse is about to start any time now.”
“This will be our last stand,” stated Castiel in his matter-of-fact way, as the angel raised his sword. “If we fail, then everything will be over.”
“Not that we'll let that happen,” Gabriel tacked on at the end, glancing at the door. “It's all or nothing, kiddos. You guys ready for this?”
Dean, of course, was the one who made the cliché reply. “We were born ready,” he went without a beat, and Sam instantly rolled his eyes at the cheesiness of that answer while Castiel tilted his head and frowned, most possibly trying to discern if Dean's answer was to be taken literally or not. (Considering everything though, Gabriel had a good feeling that it would be the former.) Sighing himself, Gabriel took a moment as he closed his eyes and drew out his sword from the confines of his Grace, and he could hear it singing as he brought his blade out to the physical plane, Grace calling out in a familiar tune of might and strength as his sword wholly and truly proved that he was once again the Messenger of Heaven.
The blade flashed under the lights as Gabriel held it up, feeling the familiar weight of it resting in his hand. It was strange, now that he thought about it-this was almost just like when he was going to face Lucifer back then, standing here with his sword and a determination to see this thing through. Except then it still had been a means of escape, to end the fate he dreaded so much to see. Now this was him standing up for once, to fight and to possibly die for the things he had loved and enjoyed in this world... and Gabriel didn't see any problem with it at all. If he died, then at least he’d go down properly this time.
Gabriel lowered his hand back down, sucking in a deep breath to steel himself before he started to walk, taking step by step towards the double doors that would lead him to the end of this long, long road.
He entered by bursting through the doors, Castiel and the Winchesters following behind him. The four of them quickly spread out-Castiel went after Crowley while Sam and Dean got rid of the mooks and tried to get Eve; Gabriel on the other hand dove straight for Raphael, roaring as he swung out his blade to clash against the one belonging to the other archangel. The swords met in a ringing clash that sounded through the entire room, strong enough that it made the demons around them falter momentarily in their tracks.
It was Raphael who spoke first, speaking to him through gritted teeth. “Step down, brother.”
“I think I'll take a rain check on that,” Gabriel returned before he tightened the grip he had around his sword and shoved hard against the other archangel, pushing him away. Raphael quickly leaped back, his four pairs of wings beating for a moment as he (or she, depending on one’s point of view) drifted backwards with the momentum from his action.
The elder archangel straightened himself on the ground soon enough, the expression on his vessel’s face hardening as he gazed at Gabriel with an expression that nearly bordered on disgust. “Is this what you choose, Gabriel?” he asked, almost hissing out the words. “To side with filth like them instead? I thought of you as better than that.”
Gabriel only smiled wryly at the question. “I don’t know, Raph,” he answered, jerking his head slightly in the general direction of where Crowley was going around, generally avoiding the battle as much as he could. “You seem to be pretty chummy with the King of Hell from what I can tell.”
“Castiel is the one who stared it first,” Raphael replied icily, the corners of his lips curling in disgust. “I am only doing what I must to ensure victory.”
“Because consorting with demons always works out in the end,” Gabriel drawled back, eyes darting around for a moment to try and catch sight of Eve, although to no avail-hopefully that meant that the Winchesters managed to accomplish their part. “You know that this ain’t going to go the way you want it to, Raph. Stop this before it’s too late.”
“And let an abomination like Castiel go around scot free?” the elder archangel shot back with a scowl. “This is not just about who leads Heaven, Gabriel. This is about the sins that Castiel brings with him everywhere he goes. To end the charade he puts on will be but a mercy to him.”
Gabriel’s expression instantly darkened upon hearing Raphael’s response, wings flaring up as a surge of anger boiled across his Grace. He really loved his brother, he really did, but there were just some lines that even Raphael couldn’t cross, and this was one of them. “Castiel is a hundred, a thousand times better than you’ll ever be, Raph,” he retorted sharply, voice rising along with the flare of his rage. “He is a far better angel than any of us can be. Somebody like you will just never understand the miracle that Cas actually is.”
“What I see is nothing but an abomination of his own making,” Raphael returned, his own expression darkening as well. “It is a pity that you have been deceived by his lies, brother. Or was it the Trickster who lured you instead?”
“She has nothing to do with this,” Gabriel instantly snapped back. “I chose to help Castiel of my own free will.” Because Cas was the one who chose to believe in him in the end, despite everything. Cas was the one who had faith in him and wouldn’t give up on him, even though he hadn’t deserved any of that at all, because he knew that faith was supposed to be for Dean. But yet Cas had given it to him freely, and there was nothing else that Gabriel could do but give back that same faith, that same love.
Raphael quickly turned sour at the admission, and Gabriel could see his jaw clenching as the elder archangel took on a battle stance and got ready to attack. “Then I suppose this is where our ties will end, brother,” he said, simply and cleanly, and even though Gabriel did know this would happen, it still didn’t stop him from feeling the pain of those words. No matter what, Raphael had still been one of his closest brothers for an indescribable amount of time, and to lose him like this… it really hurt a lot.
Still, if this was how things were going to go then Gabriel knew this was what needed to be done. Pushing away the pain and the sorrow, Gabriel took on his own stance, sword humming in his hand as the two archangels prepared to face off in what would be the first and last battle between them.
Raphael was the one who moved first, lunging forward with his sword in a jab as the elder archangel attempted to draw first blood. Gabriel quickly shifted back to avoid the blade before retaliating with a swing of his own, twisting around and trying to strike Raphael by his side. In response Raphael ducked down, neatly avoiding the blow and kept himself low to try and catch Gabriel off guard from below.
Managing to catch that in time, Gabriel jumped before Raphael could attack, pressing down against the blade with the heel of his shoe and used it as leverage to push himself onto the nearest wall and then leaping off that wall as well, using the momentum to his advantage as he swooped in and attacked Raphael from behind. The elder archangel managed to intercept him before he could strike properly, clashing against Gabriel with their swords for another moment more before pushing him back, and then going forward again to continue their fight.
That was how the battle went on between the two archangels, the moments filled with nothing but action and reaction as they pitted themselves against one another. Both of them fought with an intensity not seen from either of them since the Fall, their wrath and Grace easily felt by all within the room. Their blades continued to clash against each other in sharp, ringing tones, sparks flashing as their Grace burned and collided with each other, neither of the archangels giving an inch to the other. They couldn’t, not when there was so much at stake on both ends.
Eventually, though, Gabriel started to gain an edge, spurred on by the experiences he had on Earth while he still had been Loki. Unlike Raphael who had only been up in Heaven for the longest time, Gabriel himself had spent far more time away from Heaven and so was much more used to his physical body than Raphael would ever be. Raphael wasn’t used to the reactions of the human body and of the countless instincts built in naturally to the human mind and how they would affect him in battle.
Gabriel knew though, and he used that to his advantage, tricking the instincts of Raphael’s human vessel to react in ways that could be exploited to his benefit, and wore the other archangel down with jabs and strikes and cuts. None of them were fatal, but all of them were enough to slow down Raphael considerably and that gave Gabriel a bit of hope. If he could drag this out long enough, occupy Raphael until the Winchesters managed to get Eve out then maybe, just maybe-
Raphael stumbled back, a hand clutched around one of the bigger wounds that Gabriel had inflicted on him. The angel blade that he had been holding dropped onto the ground with a clatter as Raphael grasped at the corner of one of the tables, struggling to keep upright. Gabriel took a few cautious steps closer, looking not as bloodied as the other was, but almost just as worn out from their battle. He made sure to keep a tight grip around his sword, eying Raphael carefully for a moment before speaking. “We don’t need to fight anymore, Raph. Just stand down, and this can be over easily.”
Rather than listening to him however, Raphael only scowled, nothing but disgust written across his vessel’s face. “I will never submit to the likes of you and your ilk,” he snarled out.
“Raph-” Gabriel tried to reason again, to do something and just stop this before it was too late, but the elder archangel cut across him with the words that Gabriel hoped he never had to hear.
“Crowley! Finish the ritual!”
Everybody stopped for a moment at the shout, including Dean and Sam who had managed to get the bloodied, battered body of Eve nearly to the door. Standing on the opposite side of the room where the archangels were, Crowley raised a hand and smirked thoroughly, looking quite victorious. “About bloody time, I say,” he remarked before proceeding to snap his fingers.
The doors in front of the Winchesters instantly burst wide open, and there was no time to react at all before giant black blurs lunged out from the other side of the threshold and swiftly dragged Eve away from the Winchester’s grip, for no human could ever match the monstrous strength that hellhounds possessed. Castiel quickly moved, taking both Sam and Dean out of harm’s way as the hellhounds literally tore into Eve, sending blood splattering everywhere across the ground and Gabriel could do nothing but stare at the sight of the Mother of All being made into hellhound chow.
Sam, however, quickly noticed something else entirely, and he swiftly pointed it out to the rest of them. “The blood,” he breathed out, gesturing to the stained floor at their feet.
Gabriel quickly followed the human's gaze down to the ground, watching as Eve's blood started to move by itself, twisting and turning across the marble-tiled floor as it all flowed towards the nearest wall and arranged itself into an intricate pattern, which Gabriel could instantly place in his mind, even though he had only seen it one other time before, and that had been even before the concept of time itself even existed.
“No!” the archangel shouted, but it was too late-he could already feel the air starting to crackle and hum with energy from the power of the spell, the very world seemingly shifting around him as the blood on the wall flared with an unholy red light. A thunderous crack resounded from the wall, and then two, and then the light burst out in a giant shockwave that rippled through and sent him stumbling backwards from the sheer force of it. His wings flared out, trying to balance him and keep Gabriel on his feet as the archangel tried to see through the light and fire of Purgatory, feeling the heat of it on his skin.
Both Crowley and Raphael were standing at the entrance, and the King of Hell was making a complex gesture with his hand, getting ready to bring the souls forth from Purgatory. Gabriel could hear it all too easily-the sounds of tens and hundreds and thousands and millions of souls rushing out from all corners of Purgatory and barrelling through this one, single exit that was now open to them. It was a disjointed canopy of roars, a staccato of howls and moans of countless souls, old and new, monster and human, now reaching out through to the other side, all of them clambering for freedom from the confines of that place.
Crowley raised his hand, drawing out the souls and the roar grew louder as Gabriel could see them as the light finally faded, overtaken by the near-blinding flare of a thousand million souls as they wormed their way through the hole in Purgatory and started to come out-
Suddenly the demon found himself being flung aside, thrown to the opposite wall without a second thought and Crowley grunted as he slammed into a spot next to Gabriel and crumpled down to the floor. He wasn't knocked out nor injured too harshly, but all the same the damage had already been done, and Crowley grunted as he pushed himself up to his feet and scowled in thinly-veiled disgust at the perpetrator.
“And you all say we're the untrustworthy ones,” the King of Hell muttered darkly, turning his head just enough to spare Gabriel a glance. “Ball's in your court now, Gabriel.” And after having said that he swiftly disappeared, making an exit before things got too out of hand for his tastes.
Gabriel turned back towards Raphael once Crowley was gone, staring with wide, surprised eyes as he could only watch the sight of the elder archangel taking in all the souls that were spiralling out from Purgatory, knowing that there was nothing he could do about it now. Castiel and the Winchesters had the same reaction as well, all three of them doing nothing more but to stay rooted to the ground and look completely lost as they watched Raphael claiming everything that came out from Purgatory. Everything, including the Leviathans.
With the countless number of souls that came out from Purgatory, it almost seemed like forever in its own way before the last of them entered Raphael, and once the last soul left, the wall snapped itself back together, almost looking as if it wasn't touched at all, save for the now dried blood pattern painted across the surface. The ensuing silence that followed after everything, felt almost too overwhelming, speaking of too many things that Gabriel did not dare to think about at this moment. He glanced towards Castiel, Sam and Dean, giving them a small nod before he returned his gaze to the now still and silent Raphael and took a small, cautious step forward, eyeing the other archangel carefully.
“Raph?” he ventured slowly, taking another step forward, fingers itching to bring out his angel blade again, because his senses were screaming at him to get out get out this isn't Raphael anymore GET OUT. “Raph? You in there? Speak to me, bro.”
There was still no response from Raphael, and Gabriel took his chances and got even closer, reaching out with one arm towards the other's shoulder and nearly touching him-
It was at that moment that Raphael chose to open his eyes, and Gabriel only had a split second to see the countless souls reflected in them before he found himself being thrown back across the room, flung away under the sheer number of souls that the elder archangel commanded now. The Winchesters hurried their way over to help Gabriel after he fell to the floor, while Castiel foolishly faced up against his now powered up rival, eyes narrowing as he spoke. “You need to let the souls go, Raphael.”
The archangel only tilted his vessel's head, looking sincerely unimpressed. “And let you have them instead, Castiel?” he asked, and as he questioned a small smile started to form on his face, one that did nothing but send chills down Gabriel's spine as he saw it appear.
“This is no longer about the war, Raphael,” Cas quickly tried to reason, “You need to let the souls go before they take you over.”
Raphael shook his head in response, smile widening. “The souls,” he echoed the angel, raising a hand and studying it in a way that was not like Raphael at all. “To have this amount of power at your fingertips,” he said, looking up from his hand and stared at Gabriel then, and it was sickening to hear that strange happy thrill that had suddenly crept into the edges of his voice at that. “I can see why anybody would be after something like this so badly.”
Shit, this was really starting to get from bad to worse. Gabriel pried himself from the support that the Winchesters were giving him, taking one step forward as he stared right into his brother's eyes and tried to plead one last time. “C'mon, bro,” he started, forcing a smile on his own face. “The souls aren't going to do jack for you. Let them go before it’s too late.” Before things became irreparable.
For a moment, Gabriel could see the other's eyes soften and it almost seemed like Raphael was going to listen-but then that moment passed and Raphael's expression instantly hardened again, and Gabriel found himself being thrown around to another side of the room, this time with much more force. He could hear Castiel's surprised cry as he collided brutally against the wall, but Gabriel found himself unable to respond as Raphael continued to pin him, pressed down by the sheer power that the elder archangel now held in his hands.
“It's only now when you try pulling that card on me, Gabriel?” Raphael asked, slowly moving towards him. Castiel and the Winchesters also attempted to get to Gabriel and presumably pull him out of harm's way but Raphael was faster and also stronger, quickly sending all three of them crashing to the floor with a simple wave of his hand, without even so much as blinking. Gabriel's eyes widened at the sight, struggling all that he could against the force pinning him against the wall but to no avail. Raphael took the last few steps and stopped before him, laying one hand on his cheek as the elder archangel turned his heard around so that their gazes could meet, hazel brown meeting jet black.
The smile on Raphael's face turned mirthless and wry as he looked at Gabriel. “I was the one who had to keep everything together,” he muttered, a pang of regret in his voice. “Michael was so focused on nothing else but Lucifer and you were gone, too. There was nobody who I could ask for help, nobody who I could talk to.” A flash of hurt crossed the elder archangel's face then, just a brief glimpse of all the years that he had to spend in making sure Heaven was in order when there had been no more order in the first place. “Where were you when I needed you most, Gabriel?”
Gabriel swallowed dryly, keeping his gaze fixed onto Raphael's while trying to speak, to apologize, to say something because he had never thought about it that way, about how it was Raphael who was saddled with everything, when everybody else couldn't be there. All this time, and he had never realized- “Raph-I didn't-”
Rather than having made it better though, Gabriel's words only seemed to make things worse. Raphael's expression darkened, and in the next instant there was nothing but pain and Gabriel was choking on it blindly, feeling the agony crushing his bones and seeping through his Grace. Raphael's power was crushing him almost literally, and if he pushed just a little more, Gabriel was certain that it would smash his Grace into a million scattered pieces and send him out to the winds.
“Of course you didn't know,” he hissed back, unforgiving and harsh. “All of you were ever only occupied with yourselves. But now I stand triumphant above you all. You and Michael and Lucifer will know what your mistakes are, and you will all pay for it.”
Raphael raised his hand and clenched his fist after saying that, and Gabriel could feel the pressure against him increasing, crushing him tighter and tighter until there was nothing but pain, nothing but agony. Gabriel opened his mouth to cry out and somewhere in the distance he heard somebody calling out his name over and over again in distress and panic but the noises were starting to fade, senses disappearing as he felt himself breaking apart shard by shard, his Grace slowly flickering out under the strength of his brother-
Then suddenly it all stopped, and Gabriel felt himself falling to the floor, crumpling into a heap on the ground as the pressure crushing him suddenly vanished without a trace of it left. Castiel was helping him up at the next instant, a hand pressing on his chest and Gabriel felt the familiar warmth of Castiel's Grace as the angel passed some of his own over to the archangel. Gabriel forced his eyes open, staring down at the hand still on his chest for a moment before he turned his gaze towards the angel beside him and asked the question. “What happened?”
Castiel didn't answer the question directly, but he shifted his sight and Gabriel followed, pausing when he finally saw what the angel was seeing and felt fear rolling up from his gut. Raphael was on his knees on the ground, one hand clutched at his side while another clawed at his own throat. The elder archangel was gagging and heaving for breath, seemingly choking on something while the rest of his vessel trembled and shook violently. At first Gabriel was lost as to why Raphael was suddenly acting like that, but just as he was about to ask, he could feel the sickening pulse of something torrid and poisonous sweeping through the room, and the surge of black that crawled through the veins of Raphael's vessel made things click in Gabriel's mind.
“The Leviathans,” he hissed, panic swelling now as the implications started to run in his mind. The Leviathans were already starting to take over Raphael, and it was going to be a matter of time before they'd succeed. They had to be sent back to Purgatory now, before it was too late and the world would be doomed.
Gabriel gritted his teeth. “We need to reopen Purgatory,” he started, glancing around as his mind whirled, trying to think of something, anything that could work. “Raph's already a lost cause by now; we're going to have to throw him in with the Leviathans before they take over.” Father, it hurt a lot to say that, but there was no other way now-this was the best way to ensure that all of the Leviathans would return to Purgatory. If one of them even remained in this world, then everything would be for naught.
“Well, great,” Dean started, scowling. “Except we don't know how to open Purgatory in the first place.”
“That's not true,” Castiel cut in then, voice soft as he glanced between the rest of them. “I know the spell that Crowley used. He... shared it with me while we were still working together.”
The archangel could see a pulse twitching in Dean's jaw, but he quickly got over it and nodded curtly. “Alright, so we've got the spell. Cas can still open Purgatory right back up and we'll send Teenage Mutant Ninja Angel back home.”
A dark chuckle came from behind them after those words. “If it were that easy, things wouldn't be so complicated in this world anymore.”
Four heads turned around and an equal number of pairs of eyes widened in surprise at the sudden appearance of Jack Crow yet again, the boy Trickster looking at them all with a mirthless little gleam in his eyes. Dean regarded the psychopomp with notable suspicion, but it was Sam who asked the question, frowning. “What do you mean?”
“Think of Purgatory as a hive,” Crow started, one eye fixated on them as another glanced up to the tattered brim of his fedora, playing at the edge of it with a hand. “And Eve is the Mother of All, the Queen. When the Queen dies, what do you think will happen to the rest?”
“There will be no order, no direction,” Castiel answered, blinking as he quickly linked the similarities from what he knew to the words he had just said. “Purgatory will be in chaos.”
Jack Crow hummed a sound of agreement. “When there is chaos the waters of the Lake of Souls will be disturbed, along with the first beasts who resides within them,” he said, and smiled an unkind smile at the surprised looks that crossed everyone's face at the revelation. “There must always be one who leads Purgatory, in order to keep the balance.”
A leader of Heaven, a leader of Hell, and a leader of Purgatory. It did make sense, once Gabriel thought about it for a moment. But that wasn't the point now-Raphael would be lost to the Leviathans at any moment, and they needed to do something.
“Isn't there anybody inside Purgatory who can do that?” Sam questioned.
The psychopomp shook his head. “Why do you think the dragons needed a virgin to bring forth Eve?” he asked back in turn, voice dropping to a rasp. “It's about the power, vessel of Lucifer. Surely you can understand that.”
Gabriel rolled the words around in his head, repeating them over and over again within his mind. “So basically,” he started, slowly and carefully, because he could feel the dots connecting in his head and somehow, somehow the possibility he had thought up didn't seem to frighten him at all, even though Gabriel knew that it should. But there was nothing else he could think of, and if this would guarantee the safety of everything in this world, then... “Basically,” he repeated, steeling himself, “If anybody could handle the power you're talking about, he or she or it would be Purgatory's new leader?”
Crow seemed to pause at that, red eyes gazing at Gabriel for a brief, telling moment before the boy dipped his head in acknowledgment. “There have only been few who have managed to control that power,” he informed, seemingly already having caught on to what Gabriel thought. “Demons would be destroyed instantly. Anybody from Purgatory would simply go mad from it; humans, of course, end up like the former Mother of All. Angels would only end up like the Healer over there.” He gestured to the now-writhing Raphael, veins still dancing in black blood and Gabriel could feel their influence expanding, almost taking over his brother.
Gabriel knew that this was what he had to do. He pushed himself away from Castiel's aid, stumbling forward towards Raphael now as he said his next few words. “Cas, start the spell.”
It only took a moment after that for Castiel to catch on, and the angel's eyes instantly widened. “Gabriel, no.”
“What-” Dean started, totally lost in the conversation, but Sam caught on as well as soon as he saw Castiel's response and informed his brother.
“Dean,” he said, biting his lip. “Gabriel's going to do what I did with Lucifer.”
Dean stared blankly at his brother for a moment before the words caught up with him, and then he was turning his head around, staring at Gabriel with a wide-eyed look of his own before he narrowed his eyes and hissed out fiercely. “What the fuck, Gabriel?”
“It's the only way,” Gabriel pointed out, giving himself a moment before he bent down and picked up Raphael with minimal effort, relishing the warmth and strength of his own Grace for what most likely would be the last time. “You Idiotchesters aren't going to let each other sacrifice yourselves, and Castiel's still a bona-fide angel.”
“But you are too-” Sam started to say, but Gabriel cut him off with a shake of his head.
“I've never been a complete angel,” he finally admitted, recalling the words that Loki had told him last time. The angel who left Heaven and became a Trickster. You are worth so much more than you can imagine. Now, perhaps, he could finally see what it was that Loki meant back then. Right from the start he had never been just Gabriel, just the Messenger of Heaven; he had also been Loki, a Trickster, a pagan god of his own right. He wasn't quite complete in any way that one could look at it-never belonging to a single place, but it was in that grey, in-between area that made him who he was, who he is.
Sam fell silent after that response, but Castiel spoke up again, and his voice was pleading this time, desperate and it hurt Gabriel's heart so much to hear that, because Castiel should have never even gotten close to him in the first place. “Gabriel, please. There has to be some other way.”
“There is no other way,” Gabriel returned insistently, turning back after those words and moving towards the blood-stained wall with Raphael struggling at his side. The Leviathans would take over his brother any moment now, he could tell. “Say the spell, Cas. Please.”
“Gabriel-”
“Say it! Or I'll dig it out of your head and do it myself.”
For a moment there was silence and everything seemed to still for a moment, and Gabriel really was almost going to force the spell out from Castiel when he heard the angel start to speak, the words rolling off in hitches of breath as Cas forced himself to recite the incantation, reopening the door to Purgatory and finally getting this thing done.
The wall began to crack again as the spell was spoken, bits and chunks of the symbol burning away as the door was opened and Gabriel could feel the heat of Purgatory against his skin again, a heat the archangel supposed he would have to get used to in time-time which Gabriel was certain he would have a lot of.
Raphael (or rather, the Leviathans) struggled against him now, pinned by the pull of Purgatory against them as Gabriel turned his head to look at Castiel and the Winchesters one last time, an apologetic expression crossing his face when he saw the heartbreaking look on the angel's face, before he turned his gaze to Dean and smiled wryly at him.
“Make sure to take good care of Cas now, Dean-o,” he allowed himself to say before throwing himself right through the hole, Raphael's vessel following alongside him. A shout of his name cried out in-between the seconds where he crossed the threshold, but after that there was nothing but the wind roaring in his ears as he fell, falling through along with the Leviathans screaming beside him as the pit better known as Purgatory roared and opened up wide, ready to swallow them both and keep them there for all eternity. Gabriel didn’t know what was going to happen once he went through, didn’t know if Raphael would even survive with all those souls inside that vessel, didn’t know if he actually would even live through this himself. A million and one things could happen the moment they entered Purgatory, and Gabriel didn’t know any of them. There was still a damned good chance he might actually die again the second he went through, but strangely the thought didn’t scare him as much as it should have.
He could feel the heat and the velocity cutting through his body now, starting to rip his body into shreds and the Leviathan's screams continued to echo right beside him. There was a roar as the souls of Purgatory started getting pulled back by the nature of the place they were falling into, each soul dragging out another cry from the other archangel. Gabriel himself didn’t watch and only heard, but even those screams eventually faded into background noise as he thought and remembered about Dean and Sam and Castiel, recalling the short time he had spent with them-a time that had felt like a lifetime to him, a lifetime that had changed him much more than the rest of his existence ever could.
Gabriel let a smile cross his face and closed his eyes, waiting for the heat and the souls to consume him whole.
If this was how his life was supposed to end, then it wasn’t that bad of a way to go at all.
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