The Runaway

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

Chapter 1: Genesis

-HAMMER OF THE GODS- Gabriel: "I'm not a spy. I'm a runaway."

"Hey bro."

"Gabriel...what are you doing?"

"Watching 2001: A Space Odyssey."

"Why?"

"Becaaaauuse...I want to?"

"The forces of Hell are massing, Gabriel. Lucifer is walking free. Why will yo-"

"Sshh. The monkeys are about to discover the Domino-thingy."

"Gabriel-"

"Sit down, Castiel."

"...Fine."

"Popcorn?"

I stand on the edge of the Void. Its' edges are still weeping with shreds of Lucifer's Grace. They cry to my own, a deep and grating shriek that sets everyone on edge.

Nobody comes here.

Here is where Michael threw his brother down.

Here: where everything changed.

The Host has never before known pain as this. It pervades the slopes of Heaven, slips about the bright edges of the Kingdom. Michael's light has dulled and he drifts, made rootless with grief.

I am the only one of the Seven who has the foolishness to descend to the lower domains since the battle. Everywhere there is a cacophony of voices, begging for orders, for a message.

Messenger they call me.

What do I tell them? That their brothers bicker, snap, bull against each other? The words that are spoken in haste, in fury, in helplessness? That the Metatron is diminished? That our Father is-

I say nothing.

I stand at the edge of the Void, and I ignore the brush and swell of the others. I mourn for what has been lost.

The Horn spirals to Earth. I do not care where it lands.

I do not care if Heaven tears itself apart in my absence. I do not care what they will think about the Strength of God deserting his post.

Even if they say-Fallen-it is better than this.

Nobody will go to the Void, because the Void is what they attempt to forget.

I hope they forget me.

I open my wings, and turn my back on Heaven.

"I do not understand the point of this film."

"Nobody does."

"What are you drinking?"

"It's called xocolatl. What? I used to hang out with Huehuecoyotl."

"You...you are not how I thought you would be."

"Yeah? Well, get used to disappointment."

Sigyn sobs bitterly in the darkness, stumbling back and forth with her bowl. Loki groans long and low as the venom burns him, and the tremors of his legs shake the world.

I burn their eyes with my presence as I descend.

Sigyn covers her eyes. Loki cannot.

I am made to judge. I burned Sodom, I have slaughtered millions. I have watched my family rupture.

"What do you want?"

Loki strains towards his wife desperately as she screams, her eyes melting and bubbling through her clenched fingers.

"I offer oblivion."

When your ending has always been known to you, is it comforting to know you can choose another?

"Who are you?"

There is hope in the pagan's eyes.

"I am the one who will strangle the serpent, and break the ties that bind you."

"What is your name?"

Sigyn explodes in blue-white light.

"To the world, it will be Loki."

I approach him, see myself reflected in his eyes.

I reach out, read his memories, see his thoughts, create a Loki-shell to settle around myself.

He dies without learning my name.

"I fear that I am...Falling."

"You know the drill better than I do, little bro. You defy orders, you Fall. And damn did you question the brass this time."

"I do not regret my actions."

"Never said you did."

"Gabriel. I fear that I am...becoming human."

"Worse things could happen."

"That is not very comforting."

"Well if you wanted to be comforted, you shoulda said so!"

Click.

"FUCK! Cas? What the fuck just happened?"

"Dean?"

"You can thank me later, lover boys!"

"Gabriel, you sonuvabitch-"

Click.

I find my true Vessel dying in Bostogne, 1945, snow thick around his bloody foxhole.

He liked to play pranks on his fellow soldiers.

He liked to smoke and laugh and he wanted to see home again before he died.

He consents with his dying breath.

The Vessel's soul departs, and I do not begrudge it its freedom.

Instead, I cramp myself into the body's limited spaces, try speaking through its fragile vocal cords, standing on its unsteady feet.

Then I crook its fingers, press together the thumb and middle finger.

And snap the snowy forest into darkness.

So this is how it's supposed to end?

Lucifer, all up in my face, his Vessel's face flaking off all over my jacket?

A Blade twisting my Grace away?

Don't bet on it kiddo.

How many times do I gotta tell you?

You can't trick a Trickster.

Author's Notes: What can I say? I can't resist Richard Speight Jr.

Concrit well received,

Taluliaka.