Just a little one-shot I wrote when I was bored one day. Thought the world needed a bit more Gabriel and Cas, so I wrote it myself. I feel like I went a little far with Gabriel, but… Gabriel's Gabriel. Tell me if it feels OOC though.

"What happened to it?" A small voice said.

Gabriel opened his eyes. Castiel was standing a few feet away, his hands folded around something and his blue eyes bugged out in worry. The look would've been funny on any other angel's face, but there… not so much. There, it was just pathetic, the kind that made him want to wrap his arms around Castiel and squeeze him till he burst because he deserved it for looking like that.

But he didn't do that. There had to be a reason Castiel was looking like that, especially when they were supposed to be having a relaxing day on Earth. He'd carefully arranged it all—no interruptions, both of their schedules cleared—so the two of them could have a simple, nice day. So unless someone had popped up against his wishes, something was wrong.

And so he squinted at Castiel's hands, intrigued enough to look into it.

And he saw it. The dead bird folded up in Castiel's hands. A real, in the flesh, bird that Castiel had gone ahead and picked up for some insane reason. A very much dead bird with wings bent all over the place and no life in its beady little eyes. A stupid little insignificant bird that was about to throw off his whole break from the needy little Heaven up above.

It should be noted that he had never been one for birds. In his very humble opinion, things on Earth shouldn't be allowed to fly like angels, should stay right on their feet where they belonged because they weren't like him and his brothers. They were his dad's creations, yes, but they weren't heavenly, and they shouldn't get to pretend they were, even if dad was the one giving them wings. That, and they just bugged him.

He tried to be tolerant to get Michael off his ass about it, and sometimes it would work—he usually didn't try to hit them when he flew, unless he was in a bad mood. But this was pushing him too far. It was a bird, it was dead, and it was revolting. He would've gone off and barfed if it hadn't been for Castiel's baby blues staring up at him for an answer. As if he would know what happened to some random dead bird.

He didn't.

He was not one to care about birds and their causes of death. They could go do whatever the hell they wanted for all he cared, die as much as they wanted without him so much as blinking. He didn't know about this bird's cause of death, nor did he care because he really didn't like birds. But it seemed Castiel had a differing opinion. It'd only been a few minutes, and a bird was ruining his day.

They'd been laying out on a field, basking quietly in the sun. It was warm outside—not hot, cold, or anything else—just warm. Like that nice kind of warm that nobody could resist, when the sun was shining down and standing still to long made you sleepy, the kind that made laying down and never getting up seem like the best way to live. It was Gabriel's little spot, quiet and perfect no matter the weather, his home away from home—real paradise on Earth, not the end of the world bullshit Raphael was constantly spewing.

And a bird, a friggin' bird, had come and ruined it all. Just because it'd up and died a few feet off, and Castiel had gone and picked it up. Not that he was mad at the kid or anything; he was more mad at the bird for simply being there, like it could've decided somewhere better to die.

Gabriel peeled himself off the grass, shaking the dew off his wings in a quick flutter. His eyes lingered on the bird, and he didn't know what to say. Castiel's big blues still ogled at him, pressing him for an answer he didn't have, and Gabriel found himself thinking about just how screwed he was, getting himself into the situation he was in. Not that he'd done much to cause it, but he hadn't exactly done much to prevent it either. Screwed regardless.

Castiel had one of those ugly sad faces that only kids could make look cute as far as he knew. Lips pressed, eyebrows bent, eyes watery—no holds barred. Gabriel was utterly and completely screwed, and he knew that very well. He had no chance of winning.

He almost sighed. Almost.

Castiel was way too upset over a dead bird. A normal, run-of-the-mill bird, like any of the millions roaming around Earth on any given day. Nothing special about it. It was just a random bird that happened to be dead, and there Castiel was, with the damn thing clutched in his hands like his life depended on it.

It was all downright pathetic. Like puppy kicked right in the ribs pathetic. Pathetic with a capital P pathetic.

Normally, he would've gone ahead and said it, point-blank: the bird died. That was the simple answer, exactly what happened, no dodging around the truth because there was no reason to. If it had been any other angel in Castiel's place, it would've been done. That was it, you're done, goodbye. Smack dab in their stupid angel face. He was a man with a reputation to uphold, after all, and that reputation didn't involve softening things up.

This was no "normally" though; this was Castiel. As in all of Heaven's kid brother Castiel, with the big blues and the messy hair that made you want to give him a whopping big hug. With the sweet smile and the soft-spoken words meant for more than the ranks of Heaven. And that meant spitting it out right in his face was not the best option, nor would it ever be. Spitting it out in his face would likely end in sad little Castiel tears that Gabriel would have to wipe from his face like some kind of mother-hen, before he soothed the kid back down. And he was not about to do that. A reputation was one thing, his dignity was another.

So he got up off the grass, pulled his best sympathetic face out of his ass, and pretended to care about the bird. In Castiel's eyes, he cared, and that was all that mattered at the moment. It was what any good big brother would've done. And he was a good brother at the moment.

"I don't know what happened to it, Cassie," he said slowly, meeting Castiel's eyes. He held them without fear; he wasn't lying. He'd been practically asleep, hadn't noticed the bird's epic smack into the ground only a few feet away. He'd had his eyes closed instead, wings stretched out just right on the cool grass underneath him. Castiel had gone over to check it out, but he hadn't really paid much attention, too absorbed in what he liked to call "laissez-faire kid watching" to even open his eyes.

He spared another glance at the bird, then looked back up at Castiel, what he hoped was a sober look on his face. "Just that it isn't coming back."

Castiel didn't miss a beat. "You mean it's dead?" he said, eyes widening. He'd gone ahead and picked what he wanted out of the sentence, letting the word 'dead' hang in the air like a loose thread. Castiel didn't grow more upset though. In fact, the word seemed to relieve him. He was happy that the bird wasn't suffering, it seemed, but still sad that it'd had to die. Little cogs worked behind his eyes as they glanced down back to the bird in his hands. "Can you…" The eyes lifted back up, "Can you revive it?"

At that rate, Gabriel wasn't going to survive the day, let alone the hour, not on the receiving end of that look.

"I mean I know I shouldn't," Castiel went on, an oddly stoic look on his face, "But you're an archangel, so you can do whatever you want, right?"

Gabriel's tongue failed him for a moment. Castiel had laid a trap, and he was in the centre of it, completely helpless. One answer was bad, the other was worse, and he didn't want to deal with the fallout of either.

"I mean… I can…" he started, trailing off. If he went ahead and revived the bird, Michael would have his head before the sunset on the third day, saying he was "being a bad influence on Castiel" and "tampering with the nature of Earth" or something. Door number one was locked and nailed shut, because there was no way he was putting up with that again, especially over a bird. On the other hand, if he didn't revive the stupid bird—or rather, if he didn't go about this the right way—Castiel would get mad at him. And, he knew very well, the kid could hold a grudge that made Raphael sweat.

All in all, he needed to be smart about it. Ask himself which end of the stick was shorter and be careful not to pick that end.

"But I also kinda can't." He cringed on the last word, peeking through his eyes. Castiel still stood in front of him looking perfectly fine. He wasn't crying uncontrollably, he wasn't even distraught—he was just fine, looking up at Gabriel with a quirk of his lips that looked so childish.

When he spoke though, his voice was low. "Why not?"

In that moment, Gabriel was so, so close to screwing the lesson and fixing the bird, just to get that plaintive face off him. Close enough that it was lingering like some kind of impulsive itch on the edge of his tongue, tempting him to give in.

But one thought of Michael going off on him sent it away.

Watching Castiel stand there, so close to the stoic angel he was supposed to be, so unlike himself, was one thing. Listening to Michael rant on and on and on and on about how there were rules they had to follow and examples they had to set was a whole other beast he didn't feel like trying to conquer. Castiel would hopefully be back to normal in an hour, tops; meanwhile, Michael's record was 12 days, and that had been over a damn tree, not a bird.

So Gabriel let out a long sigh and resigned himself to breaking the news. No, he couldn't revive the bird, even if he wanted to. No, he was not the exception to the rules. No, he wasn't about to do it.

He licked his lips, opened his mouth, and let it hang there for a moment, the words slow to come on his tongue. One of the first and only times he'd ever been hesitant to talk. "Stuff like this happens, Cassie," he said slowly, not breaking Castiel's gaze. "Animals, plants, humans… they all- they all die."

His mouth fell shut. Castiel's face fell, his gaze drifting to the bird in his hands. It was dead for good, he seemed to realize, watching it sit in his hands. It was cold, unmoving, and its heart would never thump away again. Its wings would never flap, its eyes would never blink, and there was nothing they could do about it. It was all out of their control. His eyes lifted up back to Gabriel, slowly.

"It's how Earth works," Gabriel added.

Castiel's eyes clouded, not downcast or upset or anything of the sort. Rather, he was confused, looking on at Gabriel. "But you, you and the rest of the archangels, you don't have to listen to anyone. If I try… then I'll be punished. Are you saying I'm supposed to deny these feelings, let it stay dead even if I feel like it's wrong?" He pushed the bird out a little further, trying to get Gabriel to take it in his hands and breathe the gentle stir of life back into it. To heal it, like angels were supposed to do.

But that wasn't how things were. Things were never like that, angels were never supposed to interfere with the natural order of things on Earth. They were creators, protectors of Heaven, insurance that good men went where they were supposed to, but they weren't free to do whatever they wanted. Castiel understood this, but he wanted nobody to get hurt doing it—for someone that wouldn't be punished to take the blame, so the bird could go on living its life without that kind of burden on its soul. The kid was so pure it hurt.

Castiel's eyebrows sunk. "What am I supposed to do?" he asked, desperate for Gabriel to give him an answer he didn't have.

And that was because there was no easy answer. That pull Castiel was feeling towards empathy was good in the eyes of any other creature, but in an angel, it was frowned upon. They were supposed to be indifferent, always working with a certain neutrality in their actions that didn't favour one or the other. They didn't have a side because nature didn't have a side, death didn't have a side, and they weren't supposed to meddle in things like that. Those things were way above their pay grade. And Castiel didn't seem to get that. Or rather, he didn't want to get that. He wanted for it to be okay to heal the bird, that nobody would ever be punished for healing something they weren't supposed to heal. He didn't want to see them ever suffer, but he was supposed to be fine with it.

Gabriel's jaw stiffened, but he didn't pull away from the bird being offered to him. Instead, he took it gently in his hands, just as Castiel wanted him to, and he stared at it for a moment. His voice, again, was slow to come to him, and sombre when it did. "Yeah, Cassie," he said, looking back up, "You're supposed to let it stay dead." Tongue heavy, he paused to let the words cycle through his brain. Then, he let the bird fall from his hands, tossed it to the ground at Castiel's feet. "I know we can save them… but we shouldn't, even though we want to."

Castiel's face sank, like it wasn't the answer he was expecting. And Gabriel knew it probably wasn't. Castiel looked down at the bird settled at his feet for a moment before his gaze rose back up to Gabriel's face.

Silence settled between them, thick and heavy. Not even the gentle breeze that blew across the land, rippling the grass and ruffling the trees, could disrupt that stiffness. It moved like a soft hand, wrapped around his throat to keep itself alive, to keep him from speaking, with a soft hush in his ear. Everything was still in that moment, that heartbeat that held all their words for them, that breath of air that flew out his open mouth. His jaw was dropped open, he realized, and he closed it.

"Why not?" Castiel said. His face was filled with the same confusion, torn between giving in to save the bird himself and letting it stay dead. "What's stopping us from saving them? Why do we get this power if we're not allowed to use it to help?"

"Because we can't do whatever we want, even if we feel like what we're doing is right. We're not allowed to, and that's not gonna change anytime soon. It's the way things are, and-"

"But we can change it." Castiel was exasperated, his eyes wide and his brows raised in frustration, his mouth curling into a frown at the corners of his mouth.

"No," Gabriel said, resolute, "We can't. Angels aren't supposed to interfere, Cassie, you know this. We're supposed to sit up on our high clouds, watch it all fly by, and float off with the souls when everything's said and done because that's what we were built for. That's it. We do not get to make the decisions, and we don't get to do things like this." He rubbed a hand hard through his hair, let it sit there a moment, and sighed. "It's not something I'm happy with, but it's the way things are. Things die on Earth, and things don't die in Heaven, and we don't get to change that."

He sounded like Michael, saying stuff like that, but there was no other way to put it. Castiel was wrong, they couldn't change things—he'd tried to change things, but it hadn't worked. Dear old Dad had gone ahead and made Earth like it was anyway, without hearing anyone else's opinions on it.

Castiel looked angry, frustrated even, but he didn't say anything. The bird sat at his feet, tossed away on the ground like some afterthought. It didn't twitch, it was dead like it was supposed to be, with its eyes still wide and its body all mangled between the two of them. The source of the whole discussion, small and insignificant as it was, had sparked something in Castiel, and it was Gabriel's job to smother that spark, as much as he hated to do so.

Gabriel pulled out another one of Michael's arguments, albeit less harsh, meeting Castiel's eyes. "Earth is different than Heaven for a reason," He said, his voice quiet. "I don't like seeing things die just as much as you do. As crazy as they may be, they don't deserve to suffer like they do. But they suffer for a reason." He stepped closer, until the bird was right at his feet. He blinked at it for a moment, thinking through his next words. "Unlike us, they change."

Castiel's face softened, still angry, but not as he was before. This was calmer, more confused than he had been. "Change?" The single word was all he needed, barely a breath on the wind.

And that was when Gabriel decided to toss Michael's argument at the window, let his own words do the talking. Because Michael was wrong, his ideals too deeply-set in that stubborn head of his. He didn't think bigger, like he was supposed to, didn't even consider the why of anything. For him, there were orders, and that was that, nothing else to it—Dad's word was law, and the law wasn't questioned by anyone ever. But there was more to it, things Michael didn't consider because was too narrow-minded and belligerent to understand it all.

Gabriel's lips parted slowly this time. "I don't think- I don't think dad actually wants them to suffer. But think about it: we don't suffer, and we don't change. Hell," He let out a soft laugh, "I'm exactly the same as I was a couple thousand years ago. And Michael's still got that stick up his ass, doesn't he?"

Castiel let out a chuckle, but the smile fell from his face before it could do much, and his face was back to a frown in a second. A thoughtful frown, but a frown regardless, lacking the anger burning in his face earlier.

"Earth only has life because things die. And we aren't supposed to mess with that," Gabriel said, "The hunk of rock's flawed, but it's always changing for the better because the things on it are always changing. It's what makes them special, lets them live while we simply exist."

"Well then, if it's better to be like that," Castiel said slowly, "Why don't we change? What made him decide to make us differently?" The questions were innocent, not pointed and sharp like the others. Simply curious questions from a curious angel with too many thoughts bottled up in his head.

"I guess we're already perfect, in his eyes." His gaze drifted to the horizon, where trees swayed in the wind and the sun sat high up in the sky. "But the joke's on him, 'cause we're not." he said with a shrug. "Not even he's actually perfect."

"Oh." Castiel let out a little sigh, head tilting back to look at the sky. "Isn't that good though? Being perfect seems like it'd be… boring," he said, a smile tilting on his lips. "Nothing would ever happen because everyone would always do exactly the same thing, over and over."

"Well," Gabriel said, bending down. His hand stopped over the wrinkled body of the bird on the ground. He knew he wasn't supposed to do stuff like this, but something in him found himself pushing power into his fingertips. "If dad isn't perfect-" Blue light glowed over the bird, "-Then I guess there's no hope for us."

"But you just said we're not supposed to," Castiel said, eyes looking from Gabriel's face to the bird.

"Yeah?" Gabriel smirked. "Well, I'm nothing if not a hypocrite," he said, watching the bird get up from the ground. It was a slow process balanced on a pair of unsteady legs that almost toppled to the grass, but ultimately, the bird rose confidently on its two little twig feet. It was alive again, like it'd never died to begin with. He was going to get the tongue lashing of the century for it, but it didn't matter. Change had to start somewhere, and something told him it'd always be with Castiel.

"Besides," Gabriel straightened himself up with a relaxed sigh, "What's life without breaking the rules?"