Title: What You Don't Know Will Kill You
Author: OpheliacAngel
Pairings: Dean/Gabriel, One-sided Dean/Michael
Genres: Romance/Angst
Rating: Teen
Summary: Dean doesn't know it, but he belongs to Gabriel. So when his wings flutter and shine in the moonlight, they're not flashing for Michael. Not at all.
A/N: Summary/prompt is from Gabriel's Lover is Dean, who requested archangel Gabriel/angel Dean and a pining Michael. Thanks so much for the prompt and I hope you like this.
Chapter 1: Between Fate and the Sun
Soundtrack: Lacuna Coil's 'A Ghost Between Us'
Dean has waited a long time to find a mate.
For angels there were other more important priorities: following the will of a father who has been long gone, watching over human charges, training endlessly for a fight that will come sooner rather than later. Dean was tired of fighting though, tired of feeling lost and alone.
Not every angel found their mate, not all were so blessed, but many did.
There were no angel and human grace bonds, for it was blasphemy in the eyes of their father, but there were angel bonds and very rarely there were archangel/angel bonds. Lucifer was rumored to have a bond with an angel in his domain, though he was never spoken of, and Michael had set his sights on Dean for reasons unknown. The other archangels interfered little with the "average stock" that was Dean and his kind.
Except Gabriel.
Gabriel was the youngest and the rashest, he enjoyed playing pranks on the angels and took an active role in their training and assignments. So did Michael, though mainly for the purpose of courting Dean.
He berated himself for saying it, but Dean didn't feel all that special when Michael came around; yes, he's was an archangel and yes, archangels never kept their gazes long on angels who were beneath them, but Dean always had this sinking pit of dread in his stomach. His grace told him that he and Michael were to be bonded, but he felt himself hover on the very edge of certainty. It felt like a lie, a lie that Dean was only contributing to.
Michael's eyes on him made him uncomfortable and not only that, but he was the leader, so to speak, in their father's absence. There was too much responsibility there, too many sets of eyes staring at Dean, waiting for him to make a move.
Too much pressure and too soon.
That and Dean didn't deserve that bond, not when there was uncertainty. There were many angels out there who would give their wings for such an honor, so many angels worthier than Dean. Yet it wasn't about archangels in particular, it was about one archangel who wasn't Michael.
Gabriel was never far from his brother. He had a personality like the raging sun and a laugh that could be heard from miles away, a smile that cut through the thick, murky clouds inside Dean and snapped him to attention. Gabriel was loud and passionate about so many things, he railed against authority from his brother and sulked when he doesn't get his way.
Dean liked all that and more about him.
Gabriel was afraid of nothing and no one. He had no shame, no regrets, made no apologies for his actions. Because he was so beloved he was always forgiven, always given priority, forever paraded around so Dean could look upon him openly as often as he dared.
Yet he hadn't seen Gabriel today. His training had been long and arduous, even more so than usual. He knew that he must train his wings to sustain him for long periods of time, but his feathers were twisted and his wings trembled and ached fiercely and he began to doubt himself. If Michael had been there he would have flashed him a dazzling smile and gave him whispered words of encouragement, words that Dean would have known he did not deserve.
Dean didn't necessarily need the support; however, it was the walking back to his bunker that had him feeling isolated and cut off from the rest of his brethren.
"Want some company?" A voice came from out of the fog surrounding Dean, and with a sharp snap of fingers in the silence the thick substance that had once clouded Dean's sight dissipated until he could see everything in his path. The bunker wasn't far in reality, but it was farther than Dean hoped it would be.
He whipped around and came face-to-face with a smirking Gabriel. His hand was so close to Dean's wing and Dean shuddered, but Gabriel stepped backward knowingly and threw him a giving smile. A small gift for Dean alone.
A gift greater than the gifts his brother had already bestowed upon him, but archangels were whispered to have the ability to read minds, and Dean easily cut off his thoughts.
Gabriel certainly had better things to do than follow Dean home, but he didn't begrudge the company.
"Training's over already?" Gabriel quirked an eyebrow and Dean awkwardly rubbed his wing again. He didn't want to show vulnerability before his superior, but as Gabriel stared at him he felt his wing twitch uncomfortably, which further aggravated the soreness that seemed to lie bone-deep. When he looked up at the almighty Gabriel again, there was a look of concern written over his face and not merely in his eyes, where it was prone to hide. "Are you alright, Dean?"
That's what they called him because his name was too long, longer than the names of his brothers and sisters. A blush spread across his cheeks as he heard Gabriel speak it though, Gabriel who should have just called him angel.
Gabriel, who had no reason to call him anything but angel.
Dean nodded quickly in the hopes that it might lessen the archangel's suspicion, yet if Gabriel wanted to pry he had every right to, and Dean knew he would give up everything in an instant. All Gabriel had to do was ask.
Knowing this Dean wanted to turn away from him, but didn't dare to. Gabriel could send him back to the training fields if he wanted to, and he should considering Dean was showing such blatant weakness in front of him. He may look in awe upon Gabriel's power when the archangel was not paying him mind, but deep down he knew he could never gain Gabriel's sympathy or understanding.
Gabriel was too far out of reach for him, and dreams did not measure up in his home.
"Let me know if they're working you too hard, okay?"
Dean's eyes widened at Gabriel's playful statement, and to make it even worse Gabriel patted his shoulder, winked at him and disappeared. Dean stood there staring at where he had once been for a long while until he began walking again. The way back wasn't far, but Dean already found himself missing Gabriel's company.
His wings settled against his sides, relaxing, but inside Dean's grace was ramming against him.
Gabriel almost exploded in desperation.
His mate.
He had found him.
Dean would be considered a lowly angel by many, though it was mainly to do with his young age. He had not even graduated and been assigned a garrison yet, and he was still far too inexperienced in the eyes of his family's confidantes. Dean was a quick study, he learned fast and fought hard, but he was painfully shy and withdrawn too, and Michael's attempts to pull him out of his shell proved futile at best, but mainly because it was his brother trying and not Gabriel.
Yet it did not matter what the others thought, Gabriel trusted them and took their counsel in some matters but laughed at them in others. To the archangel, Dean was the greatest prize, and not because Michael misguidedly believed that he was meant for him.
Dean was beautiful and intelligent and talented. He was in the top ranks of the Academy and with a little luck he would be leading a garrison in no time. It was hard for Gabriel to not show up and watch Dean soar through the skies, knocking angels down with one swift blow.
It would be easier if Dean's grace did not beckon him nearer like a siren call, but that was his own grace talking. Most of the time Gabriel had tuned it out, but not now. He couldn't afford to lose Dean with his recklessness and ignorance for everything and everyone else around him. It would be easier if Gabriel would only step forward and claim Dean as his own.
But he waited, waited for Dean to make the first move. Dean had to since he was the one not in power, and the accusation could easily be thrown at Gabriel that he had corrupted Dean if he made the first move. No. One day Dean would come to understand, and until then he would wait for...
His mate.
Gabriel was holding a celebration for the graduates of the Academy in his Father's home. Ownership of the estate had in fact passed to his older brother Michael, but Gabriel had commented to him once - rashly Dean thought, but he always believed that whenever Gabriel let Dean in and spoke about his life and growing up with his brothers - that Michael had long since forsaken it and lived elsewhere, giving the property to Gabriel, yet he also mentioned that he didn't spend much time there, despite still calling it home.
Dean didn't know what that word meant exactly: home. He knew heaven was his home and the other angels his brothers and sisters. He knew that once he gave into his grace and accepted Michael then he would live wherever Michael did, sharing his time and his attention and his own home.
He had never entered their home before, but he felt the memories of the archangels soak into his sensitive grace as he was pushed further into the house with his friends and fellow graduates. There was pain and anger here, a desperation so fierce and so raw that his wings tingled before beginning to throb in phantom pain. He wanted to leave, suspecting the other angels felt not a thing or that they were too drunk upon success to take notice, but as much as Dean wanted to leave his grace was also pulling him further into the house, specifically into the kitchen, which was an entirely human creation.
Dean was no stranger to human food; he often saw Gabriel taking a bite out of what he called an apple, or wrapping his mouth around something sticky, items that smelled sweet, but he still gawked as he took in the immensity of the room. The counters were pearly white and the devices a shiny metal that seemed to reflect any source of light. In the center stood a table heaped with things that Dean could not name, items in every shape, size and color. Food did not phase the other angels, they could not taste it after all, but Dean rarely saw Gabriel without food. It must have some comfort to him, comfort that Michael also seemed to reciprocate as he licked his fingers and glanced up at Dean.
The smile was broad and it was all for Dean, but it didn't calm him down, could not cease the memories brushing against him, whispering long held secrets. Secrets he had no right to know. Gabriel was there too, hovering in the background where he seemed most comfortable, watching his brother and Dean with sharp eyes but kind ones nonetheless. His warm, honeyed wings were tucked away safely, and though Michael's broad white ones were out they gave off no light.
An archangel's wings did not shine for their mate, only an angel's. Archangels had power even beyond the angels' understanding, they could hide away so easily and give away nothing unless it was their will, unless it was their fate.
Dean's wings were shining even though they were tucked away as well; he could see out of the corner of his eye the ripples of light along his shoulder blades. Michael was strong arms and assertive voice and intent so clear. Gabriel was shadowed, but with a smirk bright enough to rival the coming dawn. Michael was carefully chiseled edges and his presence was commanding and safe. Gabriel was uncontrollable energy bound up so tight, playfulness that came across as grating but also welcomed. He wasn't sure but he was just as proud as his brother.
He jumped this way and that until Dean became dizzy with the immensity of him and how well he fit and how well he hid when he wanted to. He was so very different from Michael, but he was his brother too and that much was clear. The little brother who could hold his own, the archangel that roared alongside his brother like a bright and fiery sun.
When Gabriel was near Dean could feel himself falling, so abruptly and so quickly, with nothing to grasp onto.
His wings hid their light away again when he exited the kitchen. It was a sign that he was learning to control his grace, with the power he deemed still far out of his control.
It was a sign that he was Michael's.