Jared Padalecki and Tahmoh Penikett's portrayal of a fallen angel struck a chord with me. Especially Gadreel's selfless ending. I was so caught up in the story of this celestial being who was blamed for the downfall of ... well, everything. And his yearning for redemption was just so human-esque. When Tahmoh's time (maybe just for now?) on the show came to an end, I wondered what Gadreel's feelings, his goals, would be if he was brought back; thus the "Fractured-verse" where this story takes place.

I love reviews, so throw constructive criticism at me - especially where Gadreel's dialogue is concerned! Also, Brianda's name is pronounced: bree-AHN-dah.

Sidenote: this story will intertwine with another Alternate Universe - "The Litany AU" - where I explore my own ideas for Supernatural's continuation after 10x05. Coming soon!

He was suspended in darkness.

When they say my name perhaps I will be remembered …

It flowed across his skin, rippling like the heavy air just before a storm.

Not as the one who let the Serpent in …

The sound of his heartbeat pounded in his ears.

But as one of the few who helped give Heaven …

Bright white light danced across the inside of his eyelids.

A second chance!

It was as if he had been plunged into freezing water. Chest heaving, he hauled his torso vertical. Grass. Trees. Fence line. Everything seemed too sharp, too real, as it billowed into focus. Sounds swam around him, static hummed in his brain. Did angels have a heaven, after all?

With a hiss not unlike a gust of wind, noise began to make sense. He could hear birdsong, breeze through leaves, cattle lowing, and –

'Gadreel!'

Feminine, urgent, the voice was not familiar. Green eyes flicked to the source. Crouched beside him was a blur of honey-blonde, startling blue and porcelain. A hard blink cast her into focus. Soft features were kneaded in anxiety, full lips parted as if she might say that word again.

That word. He frowned. 'That is my name?' It came out as a question, as uncertainty in the face of an almost entirely blank mind.

Pink-painted lips formed a smile. 'Yes, my friend, that is your name.' Somewhere in the distance, a dog began to bay. Unease flickered across her brow. A soft hand grasped his forearm, comfortingly warm on his bare skin. 'Quickly, we must leave this place.'

'And – what is this place?' Gadreel eased himself to his feet, pausing as the world began to spin. His head thumped as if he had been underwater for far too long. 'What has happened to me?' Surely I do not live again. A chill clawed through his chest. Not after my sacrifice.

'I will explain more when we are somewhere safe.' It sounded like a promise. The woman pointed toward a nearby hill. 'Follow me.'

Gadreel didn't move as she walked away. He peered around, trying to grasp any shred of explanation. The field sprawled away, bordered by glittering fences and yet more fields. Black and white cows grazed peacefully on the hillsides. The sky was pristine blue, the sun a blinding ball of light.

There was everything to suggest an ordinary day on Earth, and nothing to tell him how he had found himself breathing again. Entirely confused, his eyebrows knitted together in a frown.

'Gadreel, hurry!' The woman's voice made him start.

She was standing halfway up the gentle incline, waiting for him. Gadreel's long strides bought him swiftly beside her. She flashed him another smile and nodded toward a road at the edge of the field. 'You'll be unable to fly for a few days, so I borrowed a mode of transportation.'

A white 1987 Buick Somerset coupe, slightly muddy, sat on the gravel between tarmac and fence line. Keys jingled as the woman withdrew them from a pocket in her vivid red coat.

Gadreel blinked. 'How do I know that I can trust you? I do not even have your name.'

She turned to him, clear blue eyes earnest. 'I understand you must have many questions for me, but for now all you are required to comprehend is that I am going to help you.' Again, he felt her hand gentle on his arm. Shorter by at least two feet, she looked up at him. 'My name is Brianda.' She took a deep breath, searching his face. 'And I know of what took place in Heaven.'

Burning agony, blinding light and last words washed over him. Gadreel swallowed. 'I died. The Sigil.'

'Yes.' Her voice was soft, sympathetic. 'But your part in this tale is not yet finished. I was allowed to bring you back.'

'Allowed to –' The words were strained, dipped in disbelief and anger. This was not supposed to happen! His hands curled into fists at his sides. 'Allowed. By whom?'

For the first time, Brianda seemed reluctant to clarify. She looked at her feet. 'Come with me. Let me explain why you have returned to this plane.' When her gaze rose to meet his, her eyes were pleading. 'Gadreel, please trust me.'

The way she looked at him had the effect of water over flames. He lived again and his sacrifice now meant so little… But this woman … Following orders was the mark of a good soldier. And Gadreel could not bring himself to blame her for something he had once done himself.

His hands relaxed. A long breath escaped him. Subtly, Gadreel felt for his grace. It was deep inside, crackling through the veins of his vessel. Content he had the power to defend himself, he jerked his chin toward the car. 'Then let us go to your place of safety.'

Brianda immediately swivelled to the fence and slid between the wires. Gadreel followed, cautious that his bare chest was kept clear of the barbed metal strands. One caught the hem of his trousers, but it was easy to pull himself free. A scrap of beige fabric fluttered in the breeze. Gadreel heard the Buick's motor putter to life.

The passenger door whined when he yanked it open. Fluidly, he slid his tall frame into the seat. As soon as the door was shut, Brianda accelerated onto the road.