A/N: Sorry I've been gone so long :( I got mildly distracted by the Supernatural fandom... and the Merlin fandom... and the Warehouse 13 fandom... and now the Firefly fandom. Rest assured I am working on my sequel to Goddess of Wisdom, only it requires more editing than I thought so I'm not entirely sure when I'll get that up.
Anyway, about this little thing, I personally love Gabriel and think he should come back (not sure how they'd do that, but he should anyway) and the face-off between him and Lucifer is one of my favorite scenes in the entire show. So, about ten minutes ago, I was having Gabriel feels and this came out. Hasn't really been edited, so don't judge. Happy reading!
I knew I was going to my death. I knew it from the very beginning. I knew he'd figure out my tricks, see straight past them, and it would be the death of me.
To be honest, I'm not really sure why I did it. Could've been impulse, I suppose. After all, he was threatening my... well, I guess you'd say ex-girlfriend. But really, I was kidding myself. Kali wasn't the reason.
I'd been afraid up until that point, so very afraid. I'd tried (and succeeded, for the most part) to cover it up with my hard-ass exterior, turning into a pagan god, a Trickster, and burying my identity as deep as it would go without losing it completely. Because really, I couldn't have lost the archangel even if I'd wanted to.
I could have fallen, of course, but that would pretty much put me on a level with Lucifer, the one place I did not want to be. I wanted to cut myself off from Heaven, sure, but that didn't mean I wanted to be vulnerable. So I remained an angel, hiding myself, cutting myself off from everyone I loved, running away. Because that was all I ever really did: run away.
And it worked: no one ever knew my story. I became Loki, the Trickster. I thought I was well away from my family and their fighting could never affect me again. I forcibly removed people from their high horses and had a hell of a time doing it. And, very occasionally, I tried to help someone. I don't know what made me do it. Maybe there was some tiny bit of the 'angel' hardwired into my DNA (even though I don't really have DNA, being a multidimensional wavelength and all), and I didn't really do that great a job of it (well, at least Sam Winchester didn't appear to think so), but God knows (if He even still cares) I tried. That was the first time the Trickster shell started to crack.
The game was up when I overstepped my bounds. The fight was inevitable. I had myself convinced of that. Michael and Lucifer would fight whether Sam and Dean agreed to be their vessels or not. They'd find a way. But if the Winchesters kept refusing, it would prolong my pain and my suffering. Because I would have to watch my brothers tear the world apart without being able to do a damn thing about it. At least, that's what I told myself. So, as the Trickster, I tried to convince them to do their jobs: "Play your roles."
But of course, Castiel interfered and they found me out. And the entire world I'd built around myself came crashing down. I was no longer a Trickster, no longer a god. I wasn't even an archangel. I was a little brother who was sick of watching his big brothers fight all the time. And Dean saw it. He tore down the Trickster, tore down everything I'd made of my life, and left that helpless little brother sitting in a circle of holy fire, waiting for the sprinklers to put out his prison. And that changed me, more than I cared to admit. His words haunted me. "This isn't about some prize fight between your brothers. This is about you being too afraid to stand up to your family!" I hated to admit it, but he was right. I was afraid. That was why I'd left in the first place. I'd wanted to stop it, really, I had. But it was too much, and they were older, and they were powerful, and I was afraid.
So when the Winchesters stepped into that trap at the Elysian Hotel, I knew what I had to do. Sure, I pretended I was trying to protect Kali, my ex, but really all it was... was me finally deciding to do the right thing. I'd always known what that was, but now... I was finally willing to die for it.
So when Lucifer spun around, caught my wrist, and stabbed me with the blade that was meant for him, I wasn't surprised. It hurt like hell, sure. But really, I'd known that was coming from the moment I'd faced him down with a snarky comment. All I could hope, as the blade pierced my Grace, was that my stand had made a difference.