[SPN] faith is a series of complications (7/16; sixth act)
VI: sixth act-of force and friction.
Gabriel knew that he was going to have to face this eventually. Coming face to face with Cas wasn't exactly in the archangel's to-do list, but it was unavoidable especially considering what he did. Keeping his eyes on the mirror he was standing in front of, Gabriel sighed as he pushed up his hair, pressing it back down against his scalp before he turned towards the angel now glaring at him. “Look, Cas, I know you're not happy about this-”
“I did not require help from the pagans,” Castiel replied, voice as cold as the frost-blue of his eyes. Gabriel sighed again as the angel added. “They will not help with my cause.”
“Better to have some help then having no help at all, right?” the archangel attempted to smooth out the situation, but found it impossible against the ice-cold of Castiel's anger. Gabriel cast a glance to the lesser angel, making an exasperated sound at the glare that Cas was giving him and moved to settle at the foot of his bed, bouncing slightly on the mattress. He remained silent, the tension in the room rising with each moment that passed them by.
Castiel was the one who eventually broke the silence, shifting forward ever so slightly closer to Gabriel. “...They can barely stand against Raphael,” he said, slowly, and Gabriel couldn't deny that fact-Raphael was only about a notch or two lower than Lucifer, but the archangel knew that his brother could still slaughter all of the pagan gods if they stood up against him. But it was also because of this fact that Raphael didn't bother to pay attention to them, and it was this fact that Gabriel was banking on. There weren't many other options at hand to be honest, and this was the best he could come up with in these circumstances. The only hard thing would have been Loki's cooperation, but seeing as she had agreed so easily Gabriel had little else to worry about now, at least for the moment.
Gabriel shrugged. “Something good might happen,” he replied, flopping down properly against the bed and letting out a pleased noise. Father, these beds were awesome. Loki really knew how to pick them.
There was another bout of silence, one that was broken by Castiel once again. “Why did you suddenly offer your help?”
And that was the sixty-four dollar question, wasn't it? Gabriel didn't reply at once, instead opting to close his eyes and think quietly. To bring himself out to help Castiel and aid him in the war against Raphael... in a way, that alone was an act of standing up against one of his closest brothers. The memory of Lucifer was still echoing in his mind, and a good part of Gabriel was still scared as hell. But... well, this was Castiel, the angel who pushed his own faith to the limit and ended up stopping the Apocalypse because of it. If he had to be honest Gabriel still wasn't certain if that was the best thing to do-to end the end of the world like that-but he was glad that it didn't end with his brothers killing each other. Michael and Lucifer, his brothers who had once loved each other so much, so strongly that they ended up fighting each other because of it.
-but now here he was caring for Castiel much more than he should, trying to give his aid even when he saw the angel working with demons and dealing in things that should have never been dealt in, in the first place. Purgatory hung over them all like another impending apocalypse, and the last thing that Gabriel wanted was for the world to be placed at the brink of extinction once more. It wasn't because Gabriel felt heroic or magnanimous, or whatever the heck people might think; this was a world that had pulled itself out of its own end, a testament to so many things that Gabriel did not dare to even name in his head. Lucifer and Michael and Raphael all wanted for the end of the world to come, wanted the destruction of humans; but here humans had proved that they had the power to do what they believed, and they stopped the end of the world to prove it. Nothing could prove their statement better than that.
Gabriel opened his eyes, placing his gaze anywhere but the angel staring at him as he replied. “You should know already, Castiel.” He had chosen humanity and the Winchesters in the end, and Lucifer killed him because of that.
“You're willing to put yourself at risk again?” the angel questioned, and Gabriel could just hear the unspoken questions in his voice. Why? Will you really do this? Are you going to leave when things get tough? There were so many of them, but the archangel didn't respond to any of those questions. He didn't have answers for any of them, anyway.
Instead all he did was to simply shrug and give Castiel a passing glance. “Got nothing much to lose now at this point, do I? 'sides, I'd hate to go off while owing you bozos something.”
The look that Castiel gave him at his answer was a strange one, littered with a million and one emotions that Gabriel couldn't really place distinctly. But the intensity of that look caused his stomach to lurch uncomfortably, and the archangel cleared his throat as he discreetly glanced away. What was that about?
“I understand,” was all that Castiel eventually said in response.
Understand what? Gabriel wondered in his head, but on the outside he merely smiled and chirped back to him. “Great to know that we're on the same page.”
Castiel nodded in return, and then inclined his head yet again. “Still, why the pagans?”
Why the pagans, indeed. Gabriel shrugged once more, idly kicking his tennis shoes off from his feet before he replied. “They're still helpful in other ways. Although-” the archangel paused, sucking in a deep breath as he steeled himself for the next words he would be speaking. Here goes nothing. “-it’s the thing with Purgatory that Loki and I are more worried about.”
The reaction was instantaneous. Castiel instantly jerked his head up, blue eyes boring into Gabriel's sight and the archangel was just glad that Cas couldn't probe into his memories; everything would have fallen apart then the moment the angel saw his memory of when he eavesdropped on the other's meeting with Crowley. Gabriel continued to play it cool, keeping a straight face as Castiel took one step closer towards the bed and nearly spat his words in an urgent demand. “What do you know about Purgatory?”
“Not much,” he replied, expression still schooled even while he rolled his shoulders in a shrug. “Dad only told me about as much as he told you, which was pretty much nothing at all.” Which was also pretty much a lie-he knew of Eve and some other things, but until he actually understood what was going on with Castiel, he wasn't going to just divulge information like that. He had to play it safe, no matter how much he wanted to try and trust his brother; his gut was screaming something else entirely, and if anything Gabriel was one to trust his gut feelings.
Castiel opened his mouth to start speaking, but Gabriel held up a hand to stop his brother, continuing. “Loki knows better than me here, which is why she's helping out. Aiding you was something I added on at the end.” He put down his hand, letting it rest on top of the covers and kept his gaze there while finishing his explanation. “She said she wanted to see you first before deciding, and I guess her answer's as much of a yes as I can figure out.” Loki had always been an enigma to Gabriel from the moment he met her, but the one thing he could at least understand was the fact that Loki was never one to go back on her word. At least up to that, Gabriel knew that he could trust her. “The meeting's tomorrow, so when it comes we'll just know more, I guess.”
The pause stretched on after those words, but Gabriel didn’t let it affect him, keeping his gaze trained on Castiel as the angel shifted slightly under the strange intensity of the archangel’s gaze. If Castiel’s own intense stares toward Dean Winchester were bad, this one was about five times worse. Gabriel only broke his staring when Castiel finally nodded, bright blue closing against harsh hazel. “I will trust your words, Gabriel.”
But can I trust yours? The archangel thought to himself once more with a mental sigh, biting back the real one that threatened to leave him as he forced out a reply. “Great.”
The evening was rather quiet, all things considered, although Castiel left as soon as the Winchesters were awake saying he had matters to attend to back in Heaven. Gabriel waved him off while Dean hadn't looked too pleased about it-something that the archangel wasn't all that surprised about; even though they were on the same side now, Gabriel had still spent a hundred days or so killing Dean in every possible way known to man, and then some. Even he would have had a hard time not holding a grudge against something like that.
Taking Dean's hostility in stride, Gabriel allowed their time in the evening to pass in peace; they ordered room service up to his room (since it was closer to the lifts), being too lazy to go anywhere, and it wasn't as if there was any place they could go in this joint. Once the food had been delivered, the brothers plus Gabriel instantly dug into their meal without reservation.
“Man,” the archangel started as he chewed on his fried noodles (drenched in copious amounts of ketchup) . “It has been a while since I got to eat food like this.”
Sam made a small, disbelieving sound from his salad. “You never ate any Chinese back there?”
Gabriel snorted. “That's not what I mean. This place-” he gestured towards the window where the city skyline still stood, countless lights twinkling back at them like stars. “-it's got some of the best food around, y'know. And I've eaten a whole bunch of things.”
Dean looked up from his hamburger, one eyebrow raised he gave a disbelieving look. “Seriously, Gabriel?” he went, not at all sold on the archangel's words. “Of all the things, food?”
“You wound me, Dean-o,” he replied, a fake look of hurt on his face. “Even I have my softer side.”
“Hell can freeze over first.”
“Dean.” Sam's voice cut in-between them, both exasperated and cautious.
“I'm just saying, Sammy,” Dean quickly retorted, green eyes never leaving Gabriel. “This dick killed me like a million times. Mystery Spot, remember?”
Sam looked at the archangel for a moment, lips pursed as he turned back to his brother. “Yeah, Dean. Kind of hard to forget that.”
“Then why are you even letting him drag us around?” Dean's voice was rising higher now, his tone harsher and more demanding. “We've got other things to worry about, like the fact that you're remembering Hell-”
“What?” Gabriel instantly started, having not heard about that until now. What was this about Sam remembering Hell?
“-or this whole Purgatory thing that we really need to get a move on.”
“Seriously, stop right there.” The archangel held up his hand and forced out a bit of his Grace, making Dean snap his jaw shut and no amount of death glares that Dean sent towards him would make Gabriel reverse what he had done-at least until he was done, anyway. Gabriel lowered his hand and turned to Sam, questioning the younger Winchester. “What's he talking about, Sam?”
Sam closed his eyes and sighed in a small a gesture of defeat. “I didn't come out of Hell complete. My soul was left in Lucifer's cage for a while.”
“I know about that,” Gabriel half-snapped; he had been around during the filming of that episode back in the other world, mainly due to curiosity. Still, he hadn't really expected for that to be real. He filed the thought away for later reference, now concentrating more on questioning Sam about whatever else he needed to know. “What's this about you remembering Hell?”
“Well, Death-”
“Death?” Father, could things even get more wacky than this?
“Yeah, Death. Dean made a deal-”
Gabriel instantly turned his gaze to the elder Winchester, the disbelieving look now on his face. “Seriously, Dean? Death? Of all people, Death?” Jesus, these suicidal tendencies could only get so far, but Dean seriously must have set a record or something. Said human was currently glaring back at the archangel that only screamed the words fuck you at him.
“Yeah,” Sam started again, glancing at Dean for a second before returning his gaze back to Gabriel. “Death got my soul out of the cage and put it back in me. Then he put up this wall so that I wouldn't remember Hell, because it's apparently pretty bad.”
“I can imagine,” Gabriel allowed himself to mutter in an undertone. The Apocalypse averted and with Michael and Lucifer locked in the cage, the archangel could only imagine the things they'd have done to one half of the main pair responsible for it all. Even he had to shudder a little at the possibilities and images that popped up in his head; when it came to punishment and torture, nobody did it better then his brothers.
Gabriel tried not to see the irony in that fact.
“So, um,” the younger Winchester paused, shrugging helplessly. “So there's this wall in my head that I'm not supposed to scratch but, you know-”
“Curiosity killed the cat, Gigantor,” Gabriel went pointedly, shooting a glance over to the human. “You'd do well to keep it in mind.”
Sam let loose a loud sigh and clapped his hands together. “You don't need to tell me that,” he returned, wryness clear in his voice.
Dean made a muted, strangled sound from his seat then, and Gabriel didn't need to be a genius or a mind-reader to know what Dean was trying to ask. With a small sigh of his own, the archangel waved his hand, and instantly Dean was gasping loudly as the bonds holding his mouth shut were released.
“Your suicidal tendencies are legendary,” Gabriel remarked dryly, once Dean was done getting his composure back.
“Fuck you.”
“Language, big boy,” the archangel snorted back, easily ignoring the responding glare.
“I had been wondering what was up with Sam's soul,” piped up a completely new voice in the room. All three men instantly whirled around, blinking in surprise at the sight of Loki lounging on the untouched bed reserved for Castiel, looking as unconcerned about everything as always.
“Loki,” Gabriel started, the name falling out from his mouth before he even registered it.
“Good to see you again, Gabe,” the girl returned with a grin, emerald eyes sparkling in mirth as she transferred her gaze towards the brothers. “Enjoying Singapore so far?”
Dean opened his mouth to answer (most likely a curse or an insult of some sort), but Sam quickly cut in and replied before Dean could ruin any of their chances. “Um, yeah. It's... different.”
“No Apocalypses here,” Loki replied, grinning again as she leaped out of bed and made her way to sit beside Gabriel on his bed, leaning back with a shrug. “Makes me wonder why I never came here sooner.”
“You weren't?” Gabriel asked before he could help himself, and the archangel cursed himself as soon as the words left him.
Loki tilted her head sideways, pouting slightly. “Nope. Kinda regret it, actually. I was in Thailand before this, hanging around with the elephants.”
Gabriel saw the brothers exchanging one of their many wordless glances at that reply, neither of them certain what to make of such an answer; and truth be told, the archangel wasn't sure either. “Then you came here?”
“Yep.” The girl flashed a smile. “Been here ever since. But enough with the stories, that wasn't what I came here for.” She turned towards Gabriel properly now, the smile widening. “I've got the last of confirmations from the other guys. We're meeting up at two pm tomorrow.” Loki paused and glanced around in vague interest, blinking after a few moments as she turned back and added. “Be sure to bring along the angel. He's important.”
“He'll be coming,” Gabriel assured the other.
Loki nodded, accepting the assurance. “I'll be popping in to pick you guys up, so there's no need to worry. Just be sure to be in this room when I'm here tomorrow.”
“Got it,” Sam replied, with Dean nodding behind in agreement. The elder Winchester still hardly looked pleased with the way things were going, but at least he had enough sense to keep his trap shut. Even Gabriel wasn't stupid enough to shoot his mouth off at the god sitting beside him; he was well-aware of the things that Loki was capable of if she tried, and that was probably just the surface of her abilities.
“Excellent,” the girl returned, clapping her hands together and grinning. “I'll be seeing you guys later then.” And with that said she vanished, popping out from their sight in the blink of an eye.
Dean stared at the spot where Loki had been for a few seconds before making an annoyed sound. “You assholes really suck at manners.”
“Pot calling the kettle black,” Gabriel muttered back in return, pointedly ignoring the new round of death glares he got for that.
He crashed violently back into reality, eyelids snapping open as Gabriel jolted up in bed and gasped, attempting to catch his breath as he heaved, chest rising and falling in a violent rhythm. The night was silent around him, painfully tranquil and doing little to soothe the harsh tumble of memories and dreams replaying in his mind.
The archangel gulped, forcing himself to calmness as he put down the hand clenched in his hair. He could still feel himself shaking, the muscles in his body shivering with some unknown coldness, even though it was already well into the summer. Gabriel stared blankly at his palm, moments of his undoing flashing through his head and he could do nothing but let another helpless shudder pass through his very being.
How long had it been since he ended up here? A few months, his mind told him, but yet in a way it felt like eternity. The new world had slammed painfully into him in the time he had been here, starting from the moment when he had woken up in the hospital with Lucifer staring down at him. Except that the person wasn't Lucifer, wasn't even the human meatsuit once known as Nick, it was Mark Pellegrino; he would later come to know the name. And as the doctors and nurses calmed him down from his sudden bout of hyperventilation, he learned he was not himself, not Gabriel but Richard Speight Jr. Without warning the world had changed on him, and there was nothing that Gabriel could do about it but to try and survive in it.
So there he was, Gabriel the archangel and Loki the Trickster, now alone in the world as the one and only supernatural creature in this non-supernatural world. At first the freedom was like a release, something that he relished so much as he lived his life without a single shred of fear. He was the only one with power, the only being who had the ability to do anything and nobody at all could stop him even if they tried. He was the top of the top, the best out of everyone. Nobody could match up with him. Nobody could stay with him.
Gabriel would only realize that much later when he came face to face with the human wearing Castiel's-wearing Jimmy Novak's face. Misha Collins, he heard the name being said but nothing else registered in his mind. He was at the top and he was the best; but most of all, he was alone. He was alone, and there was nobody he could turn to.
So this was what true solitude felt like.
“Gabriel.”
The archangel stirred at the call of his name, consciousness drifting back to him slowly like a gentle wave. He felt softness of the mattress below him, the warmth of the sheets around him and the firmness of the pillow under his head. The world was dark beneath his eyelids, and Gabriel was content to keep it that way.
“Gabriel,” the voice called out his name again, and he heard the near-silent rustle of cloth next to him, the mattress suddenly dipping as a warm weight settled nearby. There was a pause before a hand rested on his shoulder, long fingers curling around his bicep as he was shaken. “Gabriel, wake up.”
Unable to ignore the insistent voice any longer, Gabriel made a frustrated noise and cracked his eye open, watching the world around him slowly sharpen from its initial fuzziness as he made out the figure of Castiel staring down at him, blue eyes unblinking. The archangel stared at Castiel for a moment, before he pulled out his arm to cast a glance at his watch; the digital screen winked back at him with the numbers 03:51. Gabriel quickly dropped his arm back down with a sigh and moved to sit up properly, fingers threading through his hair. He allowed himself a moment to sigh before speaking. “What do you want, Cas?”
There was a long pause before Castiel answered. “I wanted to talk.”
Gabriel gave the angel a completely disbelieving look, now wishing that he had just stayed asleep instead (not that he really needed sleep and all that but, you know). “It’s nearly four in the morning, bro. Didn’t Dean teach you that sleep time means sleep time?” After spending a year with them the archangel figured that Castiel really should know better. Guess he had been expecting too much.
“I apologize,” was the angel’s response, and at least he did have the decency to look apologetic enough as he said that.
The archangel sighed once more. “Its fine,” he returned, shifting on the bed so that he would be more comfortable; he had a feeling that this was going to take a while. “So? What’s up?”
“How do you deal with it?”
The question came out from Castiel’s lips almost instantly, so sudden and strong that Gabriel couldn’t help but be caught unaware by it. He paused, looking at the angel while his mind slowly processed the question properly. “What?” Where had that even come from?
Castiel shifted slightly on the bed, lowering his gaze down to stare at the bed sheets rather than the archangel. “Being alone. How do you deal with it?”
“Excuse me?” Gabriel couldn’t help but ask, because was he really hearing this right? Castiel was asking him about-yeah, Gabriel really wasn’t going to go there. He was shameless most of the time, sure, but even he had some things he wasn’t going to touch even with a ten-foot pole in hand. This was one of them.
The angel looked up now, his blue gaze boring right into Gabriel and the archangel couldn’t bring himself to tear his gaze away from the sight of those helpless-looking eyes. He had always seen catching glimpses of those looks in these last few days, but right now, up so close and with Castiel’s question echoing in his ears, Gabriel couldn’t help but see the true depths of that expression. Castiel, the little soldier who lived and died and rebelled against Heaven to side with humanity; he might be back in Heaven now, but Gabriel knew enough to understand that Castiel could never truly be one with Heaven again. He had changed too much, transformed during his time with the Winchesters-he was much too different from the other angels. To Raphael and his lackeys he was a rebel who grew weak for humans, and to the ones that followed Castiel he was a leader favoured by their Father.
Of course, Gabriel knew enough to know that Cas was neither of those things. He was simply Castiel-he was still the same angel born from his Father before the old man had up and vanished. He was still the same guy who used to awkwardly trail behind Gabriel across Heaven and the same angel who hovered around the edges of Hell out of nothing else but curiosity. He was still Castiel, only older and more learned, but deep inside he was still the same Castiel he once knew a lifetime ago.
The archangel sucked in a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. “Why are you asking me that, Cas? You were Falling yourself for a while; you should already know the feeling.”
“It's not that,” Castiel returned, an all-too audible bite in his voice. “Its...” he trailed off there, biting on his lower lip and glanced right back down at the bed sheets again.
Gabriel had a good feeling that he knew what the angel was trying to say, but he wasn't going to talk about it until Castiel could. “What is it, Cas?” he prodded, letting himself shift closer towards the other.
“Being alone,” the angel replied, eyes still trained downwards and refusing to move. “Being... being different.”
The choice of words that Castiel used couldn't help but bring out a snort from Gabriel. “Different isn't really the word I'd use here, Cas.”
Castiel's eyes flashed once as the angel raised his head to glare at him. “You know what I mean, Gabriel,” he snapped out, voice rising just slightly, but enough to let the archangel know that this really wasn't something he should be making jokes about.
A sigh escaped Gabriel once again. “I'll be honest with you, Cas. I don't know either.”
Blue eyes widened in surprise at Gabriel's response, and Castiel had to blink at him a few times before the angel found his voice. “You... don't know?” he asked, voice dropping to a hushed whisper, as if almost afraid that the answer would slip out at any time.
Gabriel shrugged, a sympathetic look on his features. “I really don't.”
“Then how do you...?”
“Deal?” the archangel finished for him, tilting his own head as hazel eyes now bore back into Castiel. The angel fell silent, although the nod was all that Gabriel needed to understand a good load of things. Memories flashed in his mind, recollections of so many things that he had experienced in the countless years he had spent wandering the Earth under the guise of Loki. He had watched wars come and go, eras and kingdoms passing by in the blink of an eye, pagan gods rising and falling in power. Unlike the constants of Heaven and Hell the world had been nothing but an unstable, chaotic, ever-evolving mess-a mess that Gabriel ended up fighting for and dying for, because he chose humanity. The archangel sighed once more, dropping his gaze down as well and toyed with the bit of fabric under his palm. “I guess I just do, somehow.”
There was a pause, and then: “You are stronger than this, brother.”
Gabriel snapped his head back up, breath caught in his throat as he found himself staring right into Castiel's unflinching, intense stare. The angel now seemed all the more close to him, the intensity of that bright blue gaze making Gabriel almost retreat in surprise. Without thinking, the loaded question tumbled out from his lips in a single word. “What...?”
“You are stronger than this,” Castiel murmured, repeating himself, his gaze unyielding. “I know you to be much stronger, back home.”
“Not really my home so much these days, I think,” Gabriel returned, unable to properly keep out the venom in his voice. After everything-after Michael and Lucifer and the Apocalypse-Gabriel couldn't think of Heaven as his home; no, Heaven was the place where his greatest joys were also his greatest sorrows. It was the place where his worst memories resided in, unable to leave him for as long as he still existed. The end of the world might have been averted, but they were still alive, trapped in a cage and tormenting each other for all of eternity. Gabriel didn't even know if he could bring himself to conjure up that image.
Castiel shook his head. “You are still Gabriel,” he spoke again, determination in his words. “You are still the messenger of Heaven, no matter the things you have done as Loki. You are...” he trailed off, suddenly hesitant. Gabriel blinked at the sudden change, but remained silent for the few moments Castiel fell quiet until the angel found his voice and finished his words. “You are still my brother, Gabriel. That will not change.”
“Even after everything?” Gabriel tried to push, even though a part of him was just screaming in his head to shut the fuck up and simply accept it. And Father, he wanted-he really wanted to, because why shouldn't he want this? But he had to be skeptical, had to be sure-had to see the other shoe, because as much as he was grateful to Castiel for his words, it couldn't erase the fact that he had seen the angel working with Crowley.
“Even after everything,” Castiel replied, pausing for another moment before suddenly adding on. “...I think I understand better now. About why you did that. Why you wanted Sam and Dean to say 'yes'.”
Gabriel swallowed down the lump in his throat, telling his heart to calm down and for himself to stop panicking so much. “Really.”
“I think,” the angel repeated himself, shrugging helplessly. “It gets... tiring. Being different.”
Being alone.
The words were unspoken, but Gabriel could hear them as clear as day and he nodded, trying to ignore the pained throb of his heart and whatever constituted as a soul inside him. “I guess that's one way to put it.” Separated from the angels, never one with the pagans no matter how much he tried otherwise-it had been an existence that only burned darker inside him, the fire threatening to swallow him whole by the time the Winchesters brought on the near-Apocalypse. He had been tired, just so tired of his life, of having to hide from the pagans and the angels alike, and he simply wanted to stop hiding. He wanted-he just simply wanted it to be over.
“Gabriel.” And suddenly there was a hand over his own, Castiel's long fingers wrapped around his palm. It was a simple, brotherly touch, but yet the sheer gentleness of it nearly caused Gabriel to lose the tight control he had on his emotions. How long had it been since he had the luxury of something like this? Not since Kali, maybe. Gabriel had to stop himself, to tear his eyes away from the sight of entwined fingers and hands so that he wouldn't let his emotions get the better of him.
-except then Castiel was moving, a warm hand cupping his jaw and Gabriel was forced to look up into the angel's blue eyes, to see the silent determination and passion and strength that he was attempting to muster out for the both of them, even when Castiel himself was lost, perhaps even more lost than he was. And wasn't that the most ironic thing ever? Both of them deciding to side with the Winchesters-and ended up paying the biggest price for that decision. Saving them, helping them, and then dying for them.
“Those bozos had better be glad that we're with them,” Gabriel muttered darkly, although there was no trace of venom in his words.
The corners of Castiel's lips curled upwards in response, amusement gleaming in his eyes. “I am glad that you are here, brother.”
Brother. Somebody who he could trust, someone who he could trust his back to. Something that Gabriel never had, not since he made the decision to skip out of heaven and live out his life as Loki the Trickster. For all the freedom it gave him, his existence had also been incredibly lonely. Indeed, Gabriel had carved out his own little corner of the world-a little corner of the world meant solely for him and for nobody else, and that was how things had been for the past Father-only-knew how long.
Brother. Gabriel had so wanted to believe and hold onto that idea, but the mind was a traitorous thing, and memories of Castiel's meeting with Crowley flashed in his mind. Gabriel did wish he could trust Castiel and rely on the angel to guard his back, but after what he had seen, could he even bring himself to summon that much courage? To let Castiel inside his little circle despite all that he had seen and heard?
“Cas, I-” Gabriel started, but stopped the moment Castiel leaned forward to erase the few inches of space between them, and pressed their lips together. The archangel instantly froze on the spot, blood turning into ice and Gabriel could have sworn that his heart had stopped pumping for a second. It wasn't even anything close to the kisses that Gabriel could really lay on people-wet and deep and filthy-but somehow this simple, gentle action of the pressing of their chapped lips felt like much more than anything else that he had ever known in his countless years of existence. Something pulsed inside him, throbbing warmly, and without thinking Gabriel closed his eyes and exhaled shakily against the angel's lips.
Gabriel, he heard Castiel's voice in his mind as the lesser angel shifted, now pressing their foreheads together rather than their lips but the gesture was no less tender, no less caring. Hands came up and pressed warmly against the sides of his face, and the archangel felt threads of Castiel's grace now reaching towards him, called out by the Grace within him. It washed across and over him, like a gentle wave and Gabriel couldn't help but find himself caught adrift by the tenderness. A sob nearly choked out from the back of his throat when Castiel murmured against his lips, the gentleness of the action near-painful. “You have suffered so much, brother.”
“Castiel-” Gabriel tried to start, eyes opening, but the angel shook his head and pressed the tip of his thumb against his lower lip to hush the archangel. The gesture would have been insulting in other circumstances, but now Gabriel's heart could only swell up and lurch at the gentleness of the action.
“Every time I reach inside, brother, I feel your Grace crying out,” Castiel spoke quietly, his voice almost a whisper. “I feel your hurt and your pain and the ache that nothing physical can cure. I feel it as though it comes from myself, and I feel how much it hurts you inside.” The angel paused, and Gabriel saw the flare of Grace behind the other's blue eyes, the spark that reached out and connected them together in this moment of odd serenity. Castiel's hands left him, drawing away just as the angel himself withdrew, and Gabriel felt the pang of disappointment that came with the loss of such warmth.
Gabriel closed his eyes again to black out the world around him, attempting to recompose himself and draw himself back in. That had been-that had been much too intense, too close to what he wasn’t equipped to handle now. After Kali, intimacy had never really worked well for him. The archangel sucked in a deep breath, eyes opening to look at the figure of Castiel sitting before him with an expression on his face that now meant so much more. Licking suddenly dry lips, Gabriel breathed out loudly through his nose before he could let himself speak. “Castiel.”
“Gabriel.” The response was quiet and murmured, near-silence rushing in its wake. Outside the window the skyline continued to sparkle with the flashes of countless lights, the orange glow of street lights casting the skies into a deep orange-brown burn of smoldering flames.
The archangel opened his mouth, starting to speak, but then stopped and snapped his jaw shut. He kept quiet for a while longer before he finally talked. “We'll talk about this later, Cas.” He wasn't in any mood to handle this now, not right now-not like this. It was too much.
Castiel only dipped his head in acknowledgement, the words leaving him in a rumble. “I understand.”
Gabriel tried to speak again, but the next time he blinked, Castiel had already vanished with the echo of rustling wings resounding in the silence of the room. The archangel stared for a moment before he sighed and dropped himself back to the bed, ignoring the bright red flash of 04:27 from the digital clock on the bedside table as he closed his eyes and willed himself back into the land of sleep.
← fifth act | seventh act →
Gabriel knew that he was going to have to face this eventually. Coming face to face with Cas wasn't exactly in the archangel's to-do list, but it was unavoidable especially considering what he did. Keeping his eyes on the mirror he was standing in front of, Gabriel sighed as he pushed up his hair, pressing it back down against his scalp before he turned towards the angel now glaring at him. “Look, Cas, I know you're not happy about this-”
“I did not require help from the pagans,” Castiel replied, voice as cold as the frost-blue of his eyes. Gabriel sighed again as the angel added. “They will not help with my cause.”
“Better to have some help then having no help at all, right?” the archangel attempted to smooth out the situation, but found it impossible against the ice-cold of Castiel's anger. Gabriel cast a glance to the lesser angel, making an exasperated sound at the glare that Cas was giving him and moved to settle at the foot of his bed, bouncing slightly on the mattress. He remained silent, the tension in the room rising with each moment that passed them by.
Castiel was the one who eventually broke the silence, shifting forward ever so slightly closer to Gabriel. “...They can barely stand against Raphael,” he said, slowly, and Gabriel couldn't deny that fact-Raphael was only about a notch or two lower than Lucifer, but the archangel knew that his brother could still slaughter all of the pagan gods if they stood up against him. But it was also because of this fact that Raphael didn't bother to pay attention to them, and it was this fact that Gabriel was banking on. There weren't many other options at hand to be honest, and this was the best he could come up with in these circumstances. The only hard thing would have been Loki's cooperation, but seeing as she had agreed so easily Gabriel had little else to worry about now, at least for the moment.
Gabriel shrugged. “Something good might happen,” he replied, flopping down properly against the bed and letting out a pleased noise. Father, these beds were awesome. Loki really knew how to pick them.
There was another bout of silence, one that was broken by Castiel once again. “Why did you suddenly offer your help?”
And that was the sixty-four dollar question, wasn't it? Gabriel didn't reply at once, instead opting to close his eyes and think quietly. To bring himself out to help Castiel and aid him in the war against Raphael... in a way, that alone was an act of standing up against one of his closest brothers. The memory of Lucifer was still echoing in his mind, and a good part of Gabriel was still scared as hell. But... well, this was Castiel, the angel who pushed his own faith to the limit and ended up stopping the Apocalypse because of it. If he had to be honest Gabriel still wasn't certain if that was the best thing to do-to end the end of the world like that-but he was glad that it didn't end with his brothers killing each other. Michael and Lucifer, his brothers who had once loved each other so much, so strongly that they ended up fighting each other because of it.
-but now here he was caring for Castiel much more than he should, trying to give his aid even when he saw the angel working with demons and dealing in things that should have never been dealt in, in the first place. Purgatory hung over them all like another impending apocalypse, and the last thing that Gabriel wanted was for the world to be placed at the brink of extinction once more. It wasn't because Gabriel felt heroic or magnanimous, or whatever the heck people might think; this was a world that had pulled itself out of its own end, a testament to so many things that Gabriel did not dare to even name in his head. Lucifer and Michael and Raphael all wanted for the end of the world to come, wanted the destruction of humans; but here humans had proved that they had the power to do what they believed, and they stopped the end of the world to prove it. Nothing could prove their statement better than that.
Gabriel opened his eyes, placing his gaze anywhere but the angel staring at him as he replied. “You should know already, Castiel.” He had chosen humanity and the Winchesters in the end, and Lucifer killed him because of that.
“You're willing to put yourself at risk again?” the angel questioned, and Gabriel could just hear the unspoken questions in his voice. Why? Will you really do this? Are you going to leave when things get tough? There were so many of them, but the archangel didn't respond to any of those questions. He didn't have answers for any of them, anyway.
Instead all he did was to simply shrug and give Castiel a passing glance. “Got nothing much to lose now at this point, do I? 'sides, I'd hate to go off while owing you bozos something.”
The look that Castiel gave him at his answer was a strange one, littered with a million and one emotions that Gabriel couldn't really place distinctly. But the intensity of that look caused his stomach to lurch uncomfortably, and the archangel cleared his throat as he discreetly glanced away. What was that about?
“I understand,” was all that Castiel eventually said in response.
Understand what? Gabriel wondered in his head, but on the outside he merely smiled and chirped back to him. “Great to know that we're on the same page.”
Castiel nodded in return, and then inclined his head yet again. “Still, why the pagans?”
Why the pagans, indeed. Gabriel shrugged once more, idly kicking his tennis shoes off from his feet before he replied. “They're still helpful in other ways. Although-” the archangel paused, sucking in a deep breath as he steeled himself for the next words he would be speaking. Here goes nothing. “-it’s the thing with Purgatory that Loki and I are more worried about.”
The reaction was instantaneous. Castiel instantly jerked his head up, blue eyes boring into Gabriel's sight and the archangel was just glad that Cas couldn't probe into his memories; everything would have fallen apart then the moment the angel saw his memory of when he eavesdropped on the other's meeting with Crowley. Gabriel continued to play it cool, keeping a straight face as Castiel took one step closer towards the bed and nearly spat his words in an urgent demand. “What do you know about Purgatory?”
“Not much,” he replied, expression still schooled even while he rolled his shoulders in a shrug. “Dad only told me about as much as he told you, which was pretty much nothing at all.” Which was also pretty much a lie-he knew of Eve and some other things, but until he actually understood what was going on with Castiel, he wasn't going to just divulge information like that. He had to play it safe, no matter how much he wanted to try and trust his brother; his gut was screaming something else entirely, and if anything Gabriel was one to trust his gut feelings.
Castiel opened his mouth to start speaking, but Gabriel held up a hand to stop his brother, continuing. “Loki knows better than me here, which is why she's helping out. Aiding you was something I added on at the end.” He put down his hand, letting it rest on top of the covers and kept his gaze there while finishing his explanation. “She said she wanted to see you first before deciding, and I guess her answer's as much of a yes as I can figure out.” Loki had always been an enigma to Gabriel from the moment he met her, but the one thing he could at least understand was the fact that Loki was never one to go back on her word. At least up to that, Gabriel knew that he could trust her. “The meeting's tomorrow, so when it comes we'll just know more, I guess.”
The pause stretched on after those words, but Gabriel didn’t let it affect him, keeping his gaze trained on Castiel as the angel shifted slightly under the strange intensity of the archangel’s gaze. If Castiel’s own intense stares toward Dean Winchester were bad, this one was about five times worse. Gabriel only broke his staring when Castiel finally nodded, bright blue closing against harsh hazel. “I will trust your words, Gabriel.”
But can I trust yours? The archangel thought to himself once more with a mental sigh, biting back the real one that threatened to leave him as he forced out a reply. “Great.”
The evening was rather quiet, all things considered, although Castiel left as soon as the Winchesters were awake saying he had matters to attend to back in Heaven. Gabriel waved him off while Dean hadn't looked too pleased about it-something that the archangel wasn't all that surprised about; even though they were on the same side now, Gabriel had still spent a hundred days or so killing Dean in every possible way known to man, and then some. Even he would have had a hard time not holding a grudge against something like that.
Taking Dean's hostility in stride, Gabriel allowed their time in the evening to pass in peace; they ordered room service up to his room (since it was closer to the lifts), being too lazy to go anywhere, and it wasn't as if there was any place they could go in this joint. Once the food had been delivered, the brothers plus Gabriel instantly dug into their meal without reservation.
“Man,” the archangel started as he chewed on his fried noodles (drenched in copious amounts of ketchup) . “It has been a while since I got to eat food like this.”
Sam made a small, disbelieving sound from his salad. “You never ate any Chinese back there?”
Gabriel snorted. “That's not what I mean. This place-” he gestured towards the window where the city skyline still stood, countless lights twinkling back at them like stars. “-it's got some of the best food around, y'know. And I've eaten a whole bunch of things.”
Dean looked up from his hamburger, one eyebrow raised he gave a disbelieving look. “Seriously, Gabriel?” he went, not at all sold on the archangel's words. “Of all the things, food?”
“You wound me, Dean-o,” he replied, a fake look of hurt on his face. “Even I have my softer side.”
“Hell can freeze over first.”
“Dean.” Sam's voice cut in-between them, both exasperated and cautious.
“I'm just saying, Sammy,” Dean quickly retorted, green eyes never leaving Gabriel. “This dick killed me like a million times. Mystery Spot, remember?”
Sam looked at the archangel for a moment, lips pursed as he turned back to his brother. “Yeah, Dean. Kind of hard to forget that.”
“Then why are you even letting him drag us around?” Dean's voice was rising higher now, his tone harsher and more demanding. “We've got other things to worry about, like the fact that you're remembering Hell-”
“What?” Gabriel instantly started, having not heard about that until now. What was this about Sam remembering Hell?
“-or this whole Purgatory thing that we really need to get a move on.”
“Seriously, stop right there.” The archangel held up his hand and forced out a bit of his Grace, making Dean snap his jaw shut and no amount of death glares that Dean sent towards him would make Gabriel reverse what he had done-at least until he was done, anyway. Gabriel lowered his hand and turned to Sam, questioning the younger Winchester. “What's he talking about, Sam?”
Sam closed his eyes and sighed in a small a gesture of defeat. “I didn't come out of Hell complete. My soul was left in Lucifer's cage for a while.”
“I know about that,” Gabriel half-snapped; he had been around during the filming of that episode back in the other world, mainly due to curiosity. Still, he hadn't really expected for that to be real. He filed the thought away for later reference, now concentrating more on questioning Sam about whatever else he needed to know. “What's this about you remembering Hell?”
“Well, Death-”
“Death?” Father, could things even get more wacky than this?
“Yeah, Death. Dean made a deal-”
Gabriel instantly turned his gaze to the elder Winchester, the disbelieving look now on his face. “Seriously, Dean? Death? Of all people, Death?” Jesus, these suicidal tendencies could only get so far, but Dean seriously must have set a record or something. Said human was currently glaring back at the archangel that only screamed the words fuck you at him.
“Yeah,” Sam started again, glancing at Dean for a second before returning his gaze back to Gabriel. “Death got my soul out of the cage and put it back in me. Then he put up this wall so that I wouldn't remember Hell, because it's apparently pretty bad.”
“I can imagine,” Gabriel allowed himself to mutter in an undertone. The Apocalypse averted and with Michael and Lucifer locked in the cage, the archangel could only imagine the things they'd have done to one half of the main pair responsible for it all. Even he had to shudder a little at the possibilities and images that popped up in his head; when it came to punishment and torture, nobody did it better then his brothers.
Gabriel tried not to see the irony in that fact.
“So, um,” the younger Winchester paused, shrugging helplessly. “So there's this wall in my head that I'm not supposed to scratch but, you know-”
“Curiosity killed the cat, Gigantor,” Gabriel went pointedly, shooting a glance over to the human. “You'd do well to keep it in mind.”
Sam let loose a loud sigh and clapped his hands together. “You don't need to tell me that,” he returned, wryness clear in his voice.
Dean made a muted, strangled sound from his seat then, and Gabriel didn't need to be a genius or a mind-reader to know what Dean was trying to ask. With a small sigh of his own, the archangel waved his hand, and instantly Dean was gasping loudly as the bonds holding his mouth shut were released.
“Your suicidal tendencies are legendary,” Gabriel remarked dryly, once Dean was done getting his composure back.
“Fuck you.”
“Language, big boy,” the archangel snorted back, easily ignoring the responding glare.
“I had been wondering what was up with Sam's soul,” piped up a completely new voice in the room. All three men instantly whirled around, blinking in surprise at the sight of Loki lounging on the untouched bed reserved for Castiel, looking as unconcerned about everything as always.
“Loki,” Gabriel started, the name falling out from his mouth before he even registered it.
“Good to see you again, Gabe,” the girl returned with a grin, emerald eyes sparkling in mirth as she transferred her gaze towards the brothers. “Enjoying Singapore so far?”
Dean opened his mouth to answer (most likely a curse or an insult of some sort), but Sam quickly cut in and replied before Dean could ruin any of their chances. “Um, yeah. It's... different.”
“No Apocalypses here,” Loki replied, grinning again as she leaped out of bed and made her way to sit beside Gabriel on his bed, leaning back with a shrug. “Makes me wonder why I never came here sooner.”
“You weren't?” Gabriel asked before he could help himself, and the archangel cursed himself as soon as the words left him.
Loki tilted her head sideways, pouting slightly. “Nope. Kinda regret it, actually. I was in Thailand before this, hanging around with the elephants.”
Gabriel saw the brothers exchanging one of their many wordless glances at that reply, neither of them certain what to make of such an answer; and truth be told, the archangel wasn't sure either. “Then you came here?”
“Yep.” The girl flashed a smile. “Been here ever since. But enough with the stories, that wasn't what I came here for.” She turned towards Gabriel properly now, the smile widening. “I've got the last of confirmations from the other guys. We're meeting up at two pm tomorrow.” Loki paused and glanced around in vague interest, blinking after a few moments as she turned back and added. “Be sure to bring along the angel. He's important.”
“He'll be coming,” Gabriel assured the other.
Loki nodded, accepting the assurance. “I'll be popping in to pick you guys up, so there's no need to worry. Just be sure to be in this room when I'm here tomorrow.”
“Got it,” Sam replied, with Dean nodding behind in agreement. The elder Winchester still hardly looked pleased with the way things were going, but at least he had enough sense to keep his trap shut. Even Gabriel wasn't stupid enough to shoot his mouth off at the god sitting beside him; he was well-aware of the things that Loki was capable of if she tried, and that was probably just the surface of her abilities.
“Excellent,” the girl returned, clapping her hands together and grinning. “I'll be seeing you guys later then.” And with that said she vanished, popping out from their sight in the blink of an eye.
Dean stared at the spot where Loki had been for a few seconds before making an annoyed sound. “You assholes really suck at manners.”
“Pot calling the kettle black,” Gabriel muttered back in return, pointedly ignoring the new round of death glares he got for that.
He crashed violently back into reality, eyelids snapping open as Gabriel jolted up in bed and gasped, attempting to catch his breath as he heaved, chest rising and falling in a violent rhythm. The night was silent around him, painfully tranquil and doing little to soothe the harsh tumble of memories and dreams replaying in his mind.
The archangel gulped, forcing himself to calmness as he put down the hand clenched in his hair. He could still feel himself shaking, the muscles in his body shivering with some unknown coldness, even though it was already well into the summer. Gabriel stared blankly at his palm, moments of his undoing flashing through his head and he could do nothing but let another helpless shudder pass through his very being.
How long had it been since he ended up here? A few months, his mind told him, but yet in a way it felt like eternity. The new world had slammed painfully into him in the time he had been here, starting from the moment when he had woken up in the hospital with Lucifer staring down at him. Except that the person wasn't Lucifer, wasn't even the human meatsuit once known as Nick, it was Mark Pellegrino; he would later come to know the name. And as the doctors and nurses calmed him down from his sudden bout of hyperventilation, he learned he was not himself, not Gabriel but Richard Speight Jr. Without warning the world had changed on him, and there was nothing that Gabriel could do about it but to try and survive in it.
So there he was, Gabriel the archangel and Loki the Trickster, now alone in the world as the one and only supernatural creature in this non-supernatural world. At first the freedom was like a release, something that he relished so much as he lived his life without a single shred of fear. He was the only one with power, the only being who had the ability to do anything and nobody at all could stop him even if they tried. He was the top of the top, the best out of everyone. Nobody could match up with him. Nobody could stay with him.
Gabriel would only realize that much later when he came face to face with the human wearing Castiel's-wearing Jimmy Novak's face. Misha Collins, he heard the name being said but nothing else registered in his mind. He was at the top and he was the best; but most of all, he was alone. He was alone, and there was nobody he could turn to.
So this was what true solitude felt like.
“Gabriel.”
The archangel stirred at the call of his name, consciousness drifting back to him slowly like a gentle wave. He felt softness of the mattress below him, the warmth of the sheets around him and the firmness of the pillow under his head. The world was dark beneath his eyelids, and Gabriel was content to keep it that way.
“Gabriel,” the voice called out his name again, and he heard the near-silent rustle of cloth next to him, the mattress suddenly dipping as a warm weight settled nearby. There was a pause before a hand rested on his shoulder, long fingers curling around his bicep as he was shaken. “Gabriel, wake up.”
Unable to ignore the insistent voice any longer, Gabriel made a frustrated noise and cracked his eye open, watching the world around him slowly sharpen from its initial fuzziness as he made out the figure of Castiel staring down at him, blue eyes unblinking. The archangel stared at Castiel for a moment, before he pulled out his arm to cast a glance at his watch; the digital screen winked back at him with the numbers 03:51. Gabriel quickly dropped his arm back down with a sigh and moved to sit up properly, fingers threading through his hair. He allowed himself a moment to sigh before speaking. “What do you want, Cas?”
There was a long pause before Castiel answered. “I wanted to talk.”
Gabriel gave the angel a completely disbelieving look, now wishing that he had just stayed asleep instead (not that he really needed sleep and all that but, you know). “It’s nearly four in the morning, bro. Didn’t Dean teach you that sleep time means sleep time?” After spending a year with them the archangel figured that Castiel really should know better. Guess he had been expecting too much.
“I apologize,” was the angel’s response, and at least he did have the decency to look apologetic enough as he said that.
The archangel sighed once more. “Its fine,” he returned, shifting on the bed so that he would be more comfortable; he had a feeling that this was going to take a while. “So? What’s up?”
“How do you deal with it?”
The question came out from Castiel’s lips almost instantly, so sudden and strong that Gabriel couldn’t help but be caught unaware by it. He paused, looking at the angel while his mind slowly processed the question properly. “What?” Where had that even come from?
Castiel shifted slightly on the bed, lowering his gaze down to stare at the bed sheets rather than the archangel. “Being alone. How do you deal with it?”
“Excuse me?” Gabriel couldn’t help but ask, because was he really hearing this right? Castiel was asking him about-yeah, Gabriel really wasn’t going to go there. He was shameless most of the time, sure, but even he had some things he wasn’t going to touch even with a ten-foot pole in hand. This was one of them.
The angel looked up now, his blue gaze boring right into Gabriel and the archangel couldn’t bring himself to tear his gaze away from the sight of those helpless-looking eyes. He had always seen catching glimpses of those looks in these last few days, but right now, up so close and with Castiel’s question echoing in his ears, Gabriel couldn’t help but see the true depths of that expression. Castiel, the little soldier who lived and died and rebelled against Heaven to side with humanity; he might be back in Heaven now, but Gabriel knew enough to understand that Castiel could never truly be one with Heaven again. He had changed too much, transformed during his time with the Winchesters-he was much too different from the other angels. To Raphael and his lackeys he was a rebel who grew weak for humans, and to the ones that followed Castiel he was a leader favoured by their Father.
Of course, Gabriel knew enough to know that Cas was neither of those things. He was simply Castiel-he was still the same angel born from his Father before the old man had up and vanished. He was still the same guy who used to awkwardly trail behind Gabriel across Heaven and the same angel who hovered around the edges of Hell out of nothing else but curiosity. He was still Castiel, only older and more learned, but deep inside he was still the same Castiel he once knew a lifetime ago.
The archangel sucked in a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. “Why are you asking me that, Cas? You were Falling yourself for a while; you should already know the feeling.”
“It's not that,” Castiel returned, an all-too audible bite in his voice. “Its...” he trailed off there, biting on his lower lip and glanced right back down at the bed sheets again.
Gabriel had a good feeling that he knew what the angel was trying to say, but he wasn't going to talk about it until Castiel could. “What is it, Cas?” he prodded, letting himself shift closer towards the other.
“Being alone,” the angel replied, eyes still trained downwards and refusing to move. “Being... being different.”
The choice of words that Castiel used couldn't help but bring out a snort from Gabriel. “Different isn't really the word I'd use here, Cas.”
Castiel's eyes flashed once as the angel raised his head to glare at him. “You know what I mean, Gabriel,” he snapped out, voice rising just slightly, but enough to let the archangel know that this really wasn't something he should be making jokes about.
A sigh escaped Gabriel once again. “I'll be honest with you, Cas. I don't know either.”
Blue eyes widened in surprise at Gabriel's response, and Castiel had to blink at him a few times before the angel found his voice. “You... don't know?” he asked, voice dropping to a hushed whisper, as if almost afraid that the answer would slip out at any time.
Gabriel shrugged, a sympathetic look on his features. “I really don't.”
“Then how do you...?”
“Deal?” the archangel finished for him, tilting his own head as hazel eyes now bore back into Castiel. The angel fell silent, although the nod was all that Gabriel needed to understand a good load of things. Memories flashed in his mind, recollections of so many things that he had experienced in the countless years he had spent wandering the Earth under the guise of Loki. He had watched wars come and go, eras and kingdoms passing by in the blink of an eye, pagan gods rising and falling in power. Unlike the constants of Heaven and Hell the world had been nothing but an unstable, chaotic, ever-evolving mess-a mess that Gabriel ended up fighting for and dying for, because he chose humanity. The archangel sighed once more, dropping his gaze down as well and toyed with the bit of fabric under his palm. “I guess I just do, somehow.”
There was a pause, and then: “You are stronger than this, brother.”
Gabriel snapped his head back up, breath caught in his throat as he found himself staring right into Castiel's unflinching, intense stare. The angel now seemed all the more close to him, the intensity of that bright blue gaze making Gabriel almost retreat in surprise. Without thinking, the loaded question tumbled out from his lips in a single word. “What...?”
“You are stronger than this,” Castiel murmured, repeating himself, his gaze unyielding. “I know you to be much stronger, back home.”
“Not really my home so much these days, I think,” Gabriel returned, unable to properly keep out the venom in his voice. After everything-after Michael and Lucifer and the Apocalypse-Gabriel couldn't think of Heaven as his home; no, Heaven was the place where his greatest joys were also his greatest sorrows. It was the place where his worst memories resided in, unable to leave him for as long as he still existed. The end of the world might have been averted, but they were still alive, trapped in a cage and tormenting each other for all of eternity. Gabriel didn't even know if he could bring himself to conjure up that image.
Castiel shook his head. “You are still Gabriel,” he spoke again, determination in his words. “You are still the messenger of Heaven, no matter the things you have done as Loki. You are...” he trailed off, suddenly hesitant. Gabriel blinked at the sudden change, but remained silent for the few moments Castiel fell quiet until the angel found his voice and finished his words. “You are still my brother, Gabriel. That will not change.”
“Even after everything?” Gabriel tried to push, even though a part of him was just screaming in his head to shut the fuck up and simply accept it. And Father, he wanted-he really wanted to, because why shouldn't he want this? But he had to be skeptical, had to be sure-had to see the other shoe, because as much as he was grateful to Castiel for his words, it couldn't erase the fact that he had seen the angel working with Crowley.
“Even after everything,” Castiel replied, pausing for another moment before suddenly adding on. “...I think I understand better now. About why you did that. Why you wanted Sam and Dean to say 'yes'.”
Gabriel swallowed down the lump in his throat, telling his heart to calm down and for himself to stop panicking so much. “Really.”
“I think,” the angel repeated himself, shrugging helplessly. “It gets... tiring. Being different.”
Being alone.
The words were unspoken, but Gabriel could hear them as clear as day and he nodded, trying to ignore the pained throb of his heart and whatever constituted as a soul inside him. “I guess that's one way to put it.” Separated from the angels, never one with the pagans no matter how much he tried otherwise-it had been an existence that only burned darker inside him, the fire threatening to swallow him whole by the time the Winchesters brought on the near-Apocalypse. He had been tired, just so tired of his life, of having to hide from the pagans and the angels alike, and he simply wanted to stop hiding. He wanted-he just simply wanted it to be over.
“Gabriel.” And suddenly there was a hand over his own, Castiel's long fingers wrapped around his palm. It was a simple, brotherly touch, but yet the sheer gentleness of it nearly caused Gabriel to lose the tight control he had on his emotions. How long had it been since he had the luxury of something like this? Not since Kali, maybe. Gabriel had to stop himself, to tear his eyes away from the sight of entwined fingers and hands so that he wouldn't let his emotions get the better of him.
-except then Castiel was moving, a warm hand cupping his jaw and Gabriel was forced to look up into the angel's blue eyes, to see the silent determination and passion and strength that he was attempting to muster out for the both of them, even when Castiel himself was lost, perhaps even more lost than he was. And wasn't that the most ironic thing ever? Both of them deciding to side with the Winchesters-and ended up paying the biggest price for that decision. Saving them, helping them, and then dying for them.
“Those bozos had better be glad that we're with them,” Gabriel muttered darkly, although there was no trace of venom in his words.
The corners of Castiel's lips curled upwards in response, amusement gleaming in his eyes. “I am glad that you are here, brother.”
Brother. Somebody who he could trust, someone who he could trust his back to. Something that Gabriel never had, not since he made the decision to skip out of heaven and live out his life as Loki the Trickster. For all the freedom it gave him, his existence had also been incredibly lonely. Indeed, Gabriel had carved out his own little corner of the world-a little corner of the world meant solely for him and for nobody else, and that was how things had been for the past Father-only-knew how long.
Brother. Gabriel had so wanted to believe and hold onto that idea, but the mind was a traitorous thing, and memories of Castiel's meeting with Crowley flashed in his mind. Gabriel did wish he could trust Castiel and rely on the angel to guard his back, but after what he had seen, could he even bring himself to summon that much courage? To let Castiel inside his little circle despite all that he had seen and heard?
“Cas, I-” Gabriel started, but stopped the moment Castiel leaned forward to erase the few inches of space between them, and pressed their lips together. The archangel instantly froze on the spot, blood turning into ice and Gabriel could have sworn that his heart had stopped pumping for a second. It wasn't even anything close to the kisses that Gabriel could really lay on people-wet and deep and filthy-but somehow this simple, gentle action of the pressing of their chapped lips felt like much more than anything else that he had ever known in his countless years of existence. Something pulsed inside him, throbbing warmly, and without thinking Gabriel closed his eyes and exhaled shakily against the angel's lips.
Gabriel, he heard Castiel's voice in his mind as the lesser angel shifted, now pressing their foreheads together rather than their lips but the gesture was no less tender, no less caring. Hands came up and pressed warmly against the sides of his face, and the archangel felt threads of Castiel's grace now reaching towards him, called out by the Grace within him. It washed across and over him, like a gentle wave and Gabriel couldn't help but find himself caught adrift by the tenderness. A sob nearly choked out from the back of his throat when Castiel murmured against his lips, the gentleness of the action near-painful. “You have suffered so much, brother.”
“Castiel-” Gabriel tried to start, eyes opening, but the angel shook his head and pressed the tip of his thumb against his lower lip to hush the archangel. The gesture would have been insulting in other circumstances, but now Gabriel's heart could only swell up and lurch at the gentleness of the action.
“Every time I reach inside, brother, I feel your Grace crying out,” Castiel spoke quietly, his voice almost a whisper. “I feel your hurt and your pain and the ache that nothing physical can cure. I feel it as though it comes from myself, and I feel how much it hurts you inside.” The angel paused, and Gabriel saw the flare of Grace behind the other's blue eyes, the spark that reached out and connected them together in this moment of odd serenity. Castiel's hands left him, drawing away just as the angel himself withdrew, and Gabriel felt the pang of disappointment that came with the loss of such warmth.
Gabriel closed his eyes again to black out the world around him, attempting to recompose himself and draw himself back in. That had been-that had been much too intense, too close to what he wasn’t equipped to handle now. After Kali, intimacy had never really worked well for him. The archangel sucked in a deep breath, eyes opening to look at the figure of Castiel sitting before him with an expression on his face that now meant so much more. Licking suddenly dry lips, Gabriel breathed out loudly through his nose before he could let himself speak. “Castiel.”
“Gabriel.” The response was quiet and murmured, near-silence rushing in its wake. Outside the window the skyline continued to sparkle with the flashes of countless lights, the orange glow of street lights casting the skies into a deep orange-brown burn of smoldering flames.
The archangel opened his mouth, starting to speak, but then stopped and snapped his jaw shut. He kept quiet for a while longer before he finally talked. “We'll talk about this later, Cas.” He wasn't in any mood to handle this now, not right now-not like this. It was too much.
Castiel only dipped his head in acknowledgement, the words leaving him in a rumble. “I understand.”
Gabriel tried to speak again, but the next time he blinked, Castiel had already vanished with the echo of rustling wings resounding in the silence of the room. The archangel stared for a moment before he sighed and dropped himself back to the bed, ignoring the bright red flash of 04:27 from the digital clock on the bedside table as he closed his eyes and willed himself back into the land of sleep.
← fifth act | seventh act →