Disclaimer: As the Archangel Gabriel, no, I do not own Supernatural. You got a problem with that?
A/N: Heads up, this has a LOT of rather….colorful language, as I am writing in the perspective of Gabriel, who certainty does not have the vocabulary of an angel, despite having the wings of one. Those of delicate sensibilities beware!
This is Me, Standing Up
It wasn't always like this, you know. The clashing of seraph blades, brother against brother- screw Cain, we birdbrains were far worse. But it wasn't always this way. Everything was simpler before the Fall, no not "fall", that implies some degree of accident. My dear brother didn't fall from grace, he threw himself from heaven. Completely intentional, well, at least mostly intentional- according to the theories of a brilliant and extraordinarily handsome pagan god with a propensity for mischief, Michael may have given Luci a little push.
It's always the Brother, isn't it? The one who pushes you off the edge when you cling to that cliff, crying out your fraternity in shock. It started with Michael and Lucifer, and it remains ever since. Brother spilling his own blood.
But I digress. It doesn't matter so much that Lucifer was, no, is our brother. Everyone else goes on about it, of course, the Ultimate Betrayal, and how the Dynamic Duo make the perfect vessels. But I know better- this isn't about brother against brother. That is an enormous, steaming pile of crap. This is NOT about family. This is NOT about a kid having a temper tantrum and someone he cares about getting fed up and knocking him down a few pegs. No, this is about The Fate of Everything. This is about Luci's fucking huge ego and the tree trunk firmly wedged up Mickey's ass. But it is also about me. The brother stuck in the middle. And it is about every other pompous prick of an angel in heaven, and every delusional demon in hell who thinks this is just a game. And it is about every single flawed, broken crow-magnon crawling around in between. See, I'm not the only one caught in the middle.
At first, I didn't realize this, I couldn't give a flying fuck about the outcome of the battle. Sure, the world would burn, but at least the bloody thing would be over. So what if humans go extinct over a familial spat? They were only mortals… I suppose it that respect, I was very much like Luci. So I ditched the halo and stuck my horn atop a helmet, and pissed around for a few hundred centuries. Obviously, Mike sent a garrison out looking for me when I went AWOl, planning to drag me back to heaven by the balls if they had to, if it meant they didn't have to lose another archangel. But I had had enough. I. was. done. Down on Earth, I could masquerade around as a mischievous deity and Forget. Loki didn't have to deal with any of that angel crap, fighting in the name of a Father who only talks to you if he needs something done. Loki didn't do anyone's dirty work. Loki was chaos, true, but I'd have chosen chaos any day over another second spent trapped in a life where free will is an oxymoron.
It was only after the Dynamic Duo and their sidekick, my little brother, knocked some sense into my divine noggin did I realize my mistake. Hiding from the war wasn't going to get my brothers back. Dealing out just desserts couldn't make up for sitting on the sidelines when I was needed on the field.
Shortly after I made the decision to grow a pair, I heard via the celestial grapevine that a bunch of the pagan gods were planning a little shindig to discuss the problem of the upcoming apocalypse. See, I wasn't telling the full truth when I told Sam and Dean that I only came to save Kali. Don't get me wrong, I really do have feelings for the girl, in fact, the Norse called her Sigyn for years, anyway, I really did want to rescue le damsel in distress. But I also knew that all those gods meeting in one little hotel would mean a whole lot of mojo flying around. When freaky things start happening, who you gonna call? The Wonder Bros. Well, I wasn't going to let those arrogant chumps use Sam and Dean as bait for Luci-the boys were, and I can't believe I will admit this, our greatest hope of deterring Michael and Lucifer's free-for-all. Well, excluding myself, of course.
So I high-tailed it to the Elysian Fields Hotel and tried to use my abundant charm and wit to get those knuckleheads out of there, and save Kali while I was at it. No-go. The damsel turned out to be a feme fetal and wasn't so into the rescuing idea. As for the Winchesters, their thick heads couldn't fit out the door- they were dead set on saving the vanilla mortals from ending up as dessert.
And then Luci showed up, and it was like everyone was hovering over the starting line and asked me, "Are you in, Gabe? Are you gonna play?" So I turned around, shook the dust off my wings, strode through that door, and announced, not just to my brother, but to everyone, I'm home. No more Loki. No more hiding. I am the Archangel Gabriel, Messenger of the Lord, so get out of my way or get mowed down. And let me tell you, it felt good to be me. I felt so strong, so powerful, so alive, that I was fully prepared to march in and smite my brother's ass all the way back to hell. But then I got a good look at his face. You would have thought he would be angry, or shocked, or even frightened to see me. But he wasn't; he was relieved. As though he also had wondered where his little brother disappeared off to, and had missed me.
It was the same expression he wore the day he taught me to fly. I almost fell once, nearly plummeted the thousands of miles to Earth as my Grace spilled from me. But he caught me before that happened. I saw his face, and then I relieved how hard it was going to be. The apocalypse was still coming. The world was still in danger. I still had to kill my brother.
Then the moment was over and there we were, trading biting quips like the characters in a Marvel film, I, vouching for the struggles of mortals to rise above their failings, him, insulting my sentimentality. Finally he struck, stabbing me through the heart with my own blade. He looked…broken as I fell, as though he had felt the stab. There I lay, shadow of my wings spread scorched upon the floor. There knelt Lucifer, fighting not to weep. The boys had grabbed Kali and were gone, so he was alone. And weep he did for his fallen baby brother.
I left the boys the key to the Keys, and hoped they had enough brain cells between them to trap Lucifer. I knew if anyone could pull one over on Destiny, it was those two. This is me, standing up, I told them.
How am I narrating this, you may wonder? Please, did you think I would really play that trick on Lucifer? The guy could kill me! Besides, I wasn't going to be another Brother, the one to spill his brother's blood. Not when he caught me when he taught me to fly. So I did the next worst thing; I broke his spirit. The Winchesters couldn't shove Luci back into his cell, not if he fought with everything he had. So I took something away, I weakened him, so when the time came, he could hesitate, he would fight with a little less than all he had. It was a cruel trick, I know, and very risky, but hey, it worked. After all, I am the Trickster.