Gabriel sighed, taking one last look around the garden. His garden. He knew he wouldn't see it again. He wouldn't see any of it again. His jaw set.
He was leaving. Leaving for good.
He would miss this-the huge candy emporium. Like the rest of his brothers and sisters, he didn't require food, but something about this place gave him peace and comfort. The place was lined with shelves of different types of candy, but the actual room was outfitted to look like a sort of recreational room. The floor was soft carpet, his favorite Persian. There were several bean-bag chairs (damn he loved those things), and a record player. He bit his cheek. Maybe he could take just a few records...
No. Those could give him away if anyone came looking for him. Not that his brothers gave two shits about him. They were too busy fighting like the dicks they were. But still. He turned from the record player.
The garden fell away around him like a mirage. He found himself on a road at night, surrounded by trees and stars but otherwise alone. To the right the road shimmered and disappeared into light. To the left, the road only seemed to stretch on forever. He hesitated, seeming to almost head right, then gritted his teeth and began to walk left.
After walking a few feet, he sighed, head bowing.
The air rippled in front of him, and for a moment he saw an old library. A boy appeared in the ripple, and the library was gone.
He was barely more than a fledgling, but he was all angles and bends, a lanky child. He was young enough that he wasn't even able to shroud his wings-Gabriel could see the baby plumage that hadn't grown out yet. As an adult, the feathers would be gray and black, but the white baby feathers were still dominant over the wings. They were outstretched and puffed out in a feeble attempt to make the owner look bigger. Gabriel dimly tried to remember what his wings were like when he was that age.
The boy looked sad and angry, and his eyes were watering.
"You're leaving." He said simply. Gabriel huffed.
"It's that obvious?"
The boy looked away as if he had just been scolded, but then shot Gabriel a fierce glare.
"Look, Castiel," Gabriel sighed, looking at his feet, "It was fun alright? The times we had. But I need you to move out of the way."
"No." The fledgling planted his feet firmly.
"Why? Why are you leaving us?"
Gabriel sighed again, looking off into the distance.
"You know why." He murmured.
"What? Because of what happened between brother Lucifer and brother Michael? Because of brother Zacariah and Raphael? What about Anael and Uriel? What about Balthazar and Rachel? And Esperus? What about him? He never recovered from Lucifer's fall! What do you think this will do to him?"
Gabriel's head whipped up.
"You don't know what you're saying." he hissed. He didn't want to think about the quiet, introverted angel that had been one of his only comforts the past few centuries.
The tears began to spill over, trailing down the fledgling's cheeks.
"Gabriel. What about me?" He pleaded.
The archangel didn't answer, only gritting his teeth as he fought his own tears.
"I won't let you leave." Castiel's voice broke finally. It was barely more than a whisper.
"And how are you gonna stop me?" Gabriel retorted. There should have been fire in his tone but instead it sounded dead.
The fledgling moved back into a fighting stance, and he brandished a tiny silver dagger. Gabriel's eyes narrowed.
"Where'd you get that?"
"I made it!" Castiel snapped, raising the blade. It was pathetic, really. Not even blessed.
Gabriel stared at the little angel before him, so determined.
"You can't fight me, Castiel." He warned gently. He knew what the little boy's response would be before it even left his lips.
"You don't know that."
"Castiel..."
"Please. Turn around. Go home." Castiel was trembling now, obviously scared.
"You know I'm not doing that, Castiel."
"Then I'll make you!" The little angel shouted the challenge, launching himself at the archangel.
Gabriel parried the attack easily, shoving the angel around and into the ground. Castiel yelped painfully.
Gabriel turned around, and started walking quickly to the left.
He heard a flap of wings and an angry scream. He whirled just in time to catch Castiel by the wrist and wing. The boy squealed at the tight grip, but still struggled violently, attempting to stab, hit, kick, bite, do anything to his brother to prevent him from abandoning them. Gabriel threw him away, and the fledgling hit a tree face first and hard.
He fell to the ground with a thud, and lay there unmoving, save for moans of pain and sobs that racked his body.
Gabriel wanted more than anything to go to his little brother to comfort him, to tell him everything was alright, that it was all just an elaborate prank that he took a little too far this time, but he couldn't.
He turned on his heel and started to walk.
"Gabriel."
He should have kept walking, shouldn't have turned around, shouldn't have looked back. But that voice was so heartbroken, so devastated, so betrayed. He turned around.
Castiel was on his hands and knees, wings drawn in close to his back. His nose was broken and bleeding, a black eye was blooming, and his lip was bleeding too. There were several scrapes on his arms and legs.
Gabriel had never felt more like a monster in his life.
"Please. Please don't leave." The boy begged quietly.
Gabriel didn't respond. He turned and started to walk yet again. This time he wasn't looking back.
"PLEASE!" The angel screamed, struggling to his feet. He tried to run after Gabriel, to stop him, to keep him here, in heaven, where he belonged. He tripped and fell forward. And this time he didn't get up. Instead he curled up, sobbing in pain on the ground.
Gabriel fought the urge to look back. If he did now, he wouldn't be able to leave. Leave everything he loved. Everyone he loved. He had to escape.
He kept walking.
Castiel's sobs still echoed in his ears, heart-wrenchingly betrayed and angry. Sad and pained.
He kept walking.
The forest surrounding the road faded away, and the night grew darker, the stars blotting out one by one.
He kept walking.
It started to rain, as if to mirror the tears that began to slip down his face.
He kept walking.