Hero. Noun; a man of distinguished courage or ability, admired for his brave deeds and noble qualities. There are many stories to how a hero is born or how they grew up. Most heroes are fighters, or believers, or inventors. This hero, wasn't always a fighter. This hero was an ordinary kid, who really liked sweets. His backstory is not worth noting for he had a normal life growing up. What made him decide to join the war? His brothers. One younger, one older. He had a weak spot for family. The cause of his downfall. Gabriel Novak. A fighter to many, a savior to some, a coward for a few. A hero. And this? This is his journey, to becoming a hero.

Chapter 1

Lucifer had joined the winged forces when Gabriel was only seven years old, in hopes of avenging their mother's death. Gabriel remembered his brother, but not well. Him and his dad did their best to take care of Castiel, though raising two children without a woman in the house was difficult on their father, and eventually he, too, abandoned them. It wasn't uncommon for children to grow up without parents in that time, with the war looming over their heads, killing off family by family and leaving children orphaned when mothers and fathers didn't return home from fighting overseas, or even just around the corner. At times, it seemed it was never going to end, many people abandoned hope. But Gabriel raised Castiel well, keeping him safe from bombs and soldiers who would raid villages since he was only four years old. Eventually, the war subsided. Not entirely finished, but a lot of the fighting had died down; most people couldn't even remember what they were fighting for anymore. Soldiers were still needed overseas, but Gabriel worried little when Castiel turned eighteen- the official age for drafting, since children in the city were rarely chosen anymore.

"Happy birthday, Castiel," he greeted cheerily as his drowsy little brother stumbled into the kitchen. The television set droned quietly in the living room, cutting out every few seconds to show static. There would be a draft today, Gabriel realized. He pushed the thought out of his head and turned to Castiel as he sat at the table. The early morning sun was shining through the tattered blinds, casting a yellow glow that persisted through the groggy air, turning everything brown. "Got anything planned for today?" he asked cheerfully, leaning on the back of one of the splintered wooden chairs by the table.

"The draft's today, isn't it?" Castiel asked, fear threatening to overcome his tone of his voice while he remained calmed on the outside.

"Yeah..." Gabriel's fingers twitched slightly, anxiety peeking through again before he forced a grin. "But I wouldn't worry about it. When was the last time a city kid got drafted? Two years ago?" He ruffled Castiel's hair and pulled the rusty frying pan off of the stove. "Here, I made breakfast," he said, pulling a plate out of a cabinet and sliding the eggs onto it. "I even scored you some eggs, eat up."

The two moved to the living room floor and sat in front of the television set. Castiel ate as Gabriel messed with the wiring and the antenna until the picture was clear enough to understand. It was mandatory to watch the draft, which grew tiresome with how often they came and how uneventful they seemed to Gabriel. Despite the sunlight pouring through the window, the house was pretty cold, so the brothers huddled close, Gabriel subconsciously wrapping a protective arm around Castiel's shoulders as they watched. He continually glanced at his younger brother, smiling whenever their eyes met as they waited for the broadcast to start.

Gabriel could still remember when Lucifer had decided to join, seventeen years ago, arguing with their father for days, until he turned eighteen and was able to go.

Some of their arguments were civil...

"I already lost her, do you think I want to lose my sons too?" their father would reason.

"I'm not just doing this for her! I'm doing it for you, for Gabe and Cas. Maybe I can make a difference in the war!"

And some were just screaming.

"No amount of fighting will bring your mother back!"

"You can't just pretend it didn't happen!' Lucifer would scream back. "And you can't stop me!"

Gabriel would take Castiel, who was only a baby at the time, and hide when the fighting got too loud. Sometimes they would wander too far from home, but he always managed to keep safe from the large boots and thundering guns of passing enemy soldiers, putting Castiel to sleep with Whiskey when they had to be quiet.

Gabriel was snapped back into the present when the announcer on the television starting to read out dates. Castiel must have noticed his far-off look, because he squeezed his hand and smiled assuredly at his brother. Gabriel smiled back, looking up at his brother who had managed to grow taller than him.

Continuing watching the drafting they finally began calling out the numbers. Castiel and Gabriel both memorized their numbers to the point where the began accidentally writing it down. Many numbers were called and while a few were close none were exact. It was down to the last three numbers. Both of the Novak's were relaxed, knowing they made it another year of not having to join their older brother.

"56709. 94056. And lastly; 82074." The TV announcer finished before the static once again overcame to their old television set. Neither of the brothers moved to fix it.

"Eight two zero seven four," Castiel repeated very slowly. His bright blue eyes widen with realization, and his breath hitched within his throat. His whole body began to feel weak and his grip tightened onto his older brother. "Eight two zero seven four."