A/N: Written for week 12 of SPN Hiatus Creations on tumblr. Prompt: season 13 angels.
The lights in Heaven dimmed, casting Anael in darkness for a few seconds. She looked up, heaving out a sigh. Ever since Lucifer had taken off, the power in Heaven had waned. She remembered the argument she'd had with him beforehand, accusing him of lying, of not keeping his promises. And then he'd strangled her.
She put her hand to her throat at the thought. No bruises marred her skin, but sometimes she swore she could still feel his hand on her.
Her fault.
It was all her fault.
Duma kept the other angels away from her, and Anael didn't mind. She wanted to experience her shame alone.
She thought she'd been smart, thought she'd been manipulating Lucifer. But he'd been aware of every single one of her moves, countering them perfectly, using them, using her, until he didn't need her anymore, until she spoke up, refused to play by his rules.
Now, with nothing to do, with the other angels planning and planning, trying to think of some way to save Heaven, Anael walked the halls the many souls resided in. She remembered counting each and every one. All of them. 53.5 billion. That job had been so boring, beyond boring, but it had given her plenty of time to think. No one had seemed to like her ideas she'd come up with during all that time, but her ambitions hadn't died. She still had ideas now.
If Heaven was dying, and the souls would fall to Earth to become trapped in the veil, why not use the souls? There were only eleven angels left if she counted herself. And maybe she shouldn't. She'd proven that she was useless as an angel.
Anael paused, wiping angry tears away.
No, she couldn't be useless.
But maybe she should have just stayed on Earth, stayed away from all the violence and the politics up in Heaven, remained as Sister Jo.
On Earth she'd had purpose, on Earth she knew how to make herself useful. And she had done so with Lucifer, had made herself useful to him. But no more. Now it was just her and the other angels, and they wanted nothing to do with her.
Anael looked at the name on the door she'd stopped at: Teresa Graveline. She didn't know this soul; all the names got jumbled. But she stepped into her Heaven anyway, wanting to get away from the white, from the dimming lights.
There was a little girl with black hair crouched beneath a cherry tree by a lake, snow-capped green and gray mountains surrounding them. The water whispered against the shore with a gentle shush-shush. It was cold in this Heaven, but the little girl was dipping her hands in the water anyway, laughing happily. She didn't know what this memory was to Teresa, why it meant so much to her, but it was clearly a calm memory. Pink cherry blossoms drifted lazily to the ground, and one fell in Teresa's hair. Calm. All calm.
It didn't calm Anael.
It made her angry.
A soul. Just one soul could make the angels stronger. But no, they were letting them go to waste. They wouldn't come up with any grand scheme. Lucifer had lied, and he wasn't coming back. She'd heard the plans they'd had over angel radio, knew of Jack and how they wanted to use him. But now with Lucifer's absence they seemed discouraged of that as well. That was probably for the better. Anael didn't know Jack, didn't want to know Jack, but using him in the way they had planned would surely be wrong, taking things too far. Now they had nothing, absolutely nothing.
Heaven would become nothing.
The angels would die, their Grace would fail.
Teresa would fall to Earth, and so would the other souls with her. Earth was already a mess in some ways, thanks to the aborted Apocalypse, thanks to the filthy, depraved demons who wanted to be running the show.
Thanks to God.
Without Heaven, Earth would be even worse off. The souls would become spirits, some of them vengeful, and with time death would take hold till the Earth was drenched in blood.
Anael didn't want that. Despite profiting off of humans, she liked them. She liked the times she had nearly felt human when Lucifer had taken her Grace. It had felt… intimate, something they'd shared together. And now it was gone.
Anael leaned against a tree near her, watching Teresa as she continued to play. She figured this was all her Heaven was, nothing more, nothing less, and the repetition would grow boring for Anael after awhile. She was old, not as old as the archangels, but still old. Yet she didn't have much patience. She needed to be doing something, even when she felt like the whole world was crumbling around her.
Teresa turned to her, and it was like her brown eyes focused right on her.
Anael smiled though she knew she couldn't see her.
Or maybe she could because the little girl returned the smile, dimples showing in her round cheeks.
And then she went back to playing with the water.
No, she couldn't let this soul go to waste.
She owed it to Teresa. She owed it to the others she had counted years ago.
The angels could use them. The angels could become strong.
Anael left Teresa's Heaven, the lights glowing to their full power as she marched down the hall, shoes clicking against the rough floor.
She had to find Duma, had to convince her of her plan. That would be tricky since Duma liked to think she was in charge. She hadn't liked the position at first, but she had grown arrogant, and then with Lucifer's betrayal of their trust, despondent. If she pushed the right buttons, played her the right way, she'd come around. And then the others would too.
The souls could strengthen their failing Grace, make them into something more.
A god. Anael was going to become a god, they would become gods, and Heaven would be saved.