AN: The relationship between Castiel and Gabriel is fascinating to me and I was always a little bummed that it was never explored more in the show. Here are some of Castiel's thoughts on his long lost brother. This is my first crack at writing Castiel, so apologies in advance if you feel I've butchered him.
Title is taken from "Man of a thousand faces," by Regina Spektor.
Fic inspired by Gabriel tribute video, "Man of a thousand faces," by limabetaed
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural nor any of the characters who appear in Supernatural, I just like to play with 'em every once in a while. The song ""Man of a thousand faces," is written by, performed by and property of Regina Spektor.
Good is Better than Perfect
Amongst the Heavenly Host, the name of Gabriel was like a talisman.
It was a beloved reminder of the way things had been before the horrors of The War and the despair of The Fall.
It was a name that was often thought of but was rarely spoken and when it was uttered it was said with all of the reverence due to the dead and all of the fondness due to a beloved.
While the Host of Heaven had been forever tarnished by their terrible War, the Gabriel of their memory had remained radiant and golden for all of eternity.
Many of the more optimistic angels had always secretly believed that he had gone in search of The Father and that one day He and His Messenger would return to them and all would be as it had once been.
Others believed as Michael had told them; that he was dead, another casualty of Lucifer's senseless pride.
But no matter which opinion one held, his loss was universally mourned and his memory universally revered.
It was said that The Devil himself had wept when he had learned of Gabriel's disappearance and if it was true, then he had not wept alone.
From Michael and Raphael on down to the youngest fledglings, all of Heaven had mourned the loss.
Though Castiel had never known Gabriel well, he had been no exception.
If anything, Castiel's grief had been particularly intense, for while Gabriel had greatly outshone Castiel in both rank and grandeur, he had often gone out of his way to make time for the younger angel (and indeed, many of the younger angels) and the joy that Castiel had once found in his presence would not soon be forgotten.
So, when centuries later, Castiel had rediscovered his beloved and long-mourned older brother alive and so very different from the angel that he remembered, he had not known exactly what to do or what to think.
He only knew what he felt and what he felt was anger and disappointment.
The Gabriel that he remembered had been so different; so open, so warm, so beautiful.
But the Gabriel that he had found was so dark and sharp and sad that Castiel had barely recognized him.
Had it not been for the unmistakable way in which he'd said his name and the overwhelming amount of power that he'd wielded, Castiel might have been fooled into believing that he was no more than a simple trickster.
But he had said his name the same way he'd said it all those years ago and no mere trickster could ever have manhandled an angel of The Lord so effortlessly.
When Castiel had finally put it all together, he had mourned his brother for a second time, for surely it was better that he had died a glorious archangel than for him to have survived and become a creature the likes of which he had become; a trickster, a pagan god, a false idol.
None of these things were worthy of The Archangel Gabriel and by becoming them, Gabriel had debased not only himself, but even Castiel's memory of him and for that, Castiel did not think that he could ever forgive him.
That Gabriel had been indulging in the pleasures of Earth while all of Heaven had mourned him had only infuriated Castiel further and when Castiel had learned that Gabriel still had no intention of stepping in and doing anything about the looming Apocalypse, he had been unable to believe that the coward he had found and the brother he had lost were even the same being.
Between his Father's abandonment and Gabriel's failure, Castiel was quickly losing his faith and even quicker in succumbing to his ever growing frustration and anger.
Everything had seemed so incredibly hopeless that Castiel had seen very little point in even trying.
From then on, Castiel thought often of his brother Gabriel but when his name was uttered, it was never done with the same reverence as before.
And then one day, a Voice had cut through his mind like lightning and though his angelic powers had been waning, he had felt the pain, the terror and the love contained in that Voice and he had known that Gabriel was dead.
Not long after that, the Winchesters had called him and told him that they had a plan and that his brother Gabriel had given it to them.
They also told him that he had saved them.
At the time, it had seemed like too little, too late.
But in the end, the Apocalypse had been averted and a new day of freedom and choice had dawned.
In his mind the victory of 'the Apocalypse that never was' belonged to the Winchester brothers, the gruff old Bobby Singer and maybe even a little bit to him but rarely did he ever give the same credit to his dead brother.
If asked, he would not have been able to say why but later, after his destruction by the Leviathans and his subsequent return, he would admit that Gabriel's omission from the list had been the result of equal parts anger and pride.
Castiel had been unable to see Gabriel's refusal to fight as anything other than cowardice.
The other angels he could understand; they were no match for any archangel let alone three and they had had obedience drilled into them from the time of their creation but Gabriel had left Heaven, he had followed his own path once before, so why not do it again?
It wasn't as if he had nothing to gain from fighting because he did; if nothing else, stopping the Apocalypse would have allowed him to continue to indulge in his frivolous and hedonistic lifestyle so Castiel did not understand his hesitance on that front.
In fact, the only reason that Gabriel had given for his reluctance that made any kind of sense to Castiel had been his aversion to taking up arms against his own family but as time had passed and Castiel had neared the end of his collision course with the souls of Purgatory even that line of reasoning had worn thin in his eyes.
Devotion to family was one thing, but if that family stood in the way of necessary change and would not listen to reason, then Castiel saw no other recourse but to eliminate them.
Increasingly, Gabriel's reluctance to take arms against brothers hell bent for destruction seemed less and less like the understandable reservations of a heart-broken and loving brother and more and more like the evasions of a spineless coward who was simply not strong enough to do what needed to be done.
Castiel could find nothing admirable in that and for a time he thought only rarely of his brother and even more rarely did he ever speak his name.
But then Castiel's world had been torn apart; first by the Leviathans and then by memories of Sam's time in the Cage and slowly he began to see many things in a very different light.
The deaths he'd once seen as absolutely necessary now seemed cruel and pointless and each and every one of them weighed heavily upon his conscience.
Suddenly, Gabriel's refusal to make war against his own kin had seemed neither selfish nor cowardly and Castiel had lamented the pride that had driven him to see such a sentiment as one born solely from weakness.
It was far from the only thing that he regretted and as the time passed, his thoughts turned to Gabriel more and more often.
He had a new understanding of what it must have been like for Gabriel and with that understanding he'd gained a new appreciation for just who and what his brother had been.
Perhaps more importantly, he'd gained a new appreciation for what Gabriel hadn't been.
He had not been the gloriously perfect Gabriel of Castiel's memory but he had been a being who, like Castiel, was flawed and imperfect. A being who had gone astray and made mistakes, who had been capable of being cruel and capricious and petty and proud, but who had nevertheless tried to be better.
No one, not even Castiel on his kindest day, would likely ever describe Gabriel as having been perfect but it could not be denied that in spite of all of his flaws; when it had mattered the most, Gabriel had been good.
And in Castiel's book, good was better than perfect because good had to try.
Perfect had no doubts, no fears, no baser desires that could lead it astray but good had all of these in spades and as such, good's existence would forever contain hardship and strife and so the triumphs of good would always mean more than the triumphs of perfect, for while great deeds were easy for perfect, for good, they were exhausting and challenging and sometimes impossible and as such, the grace of the thing was not in the deed but rather, in the attempt.
And though every instinct had probably been telling Gabriel to run, in the end, he had been good and he had tried.
As the days at the mental hospital drifted by, Castiel held Gabriel's memory close to his heart as a reminder that it was never too late to try to be better.
And over time the name of Gabriel once more became like a talisman.
It was a beloved reminder of an imperfect brother who had been sharp and sad and frightened and good.
It was a name that was often thought of but was rarely spoken and when it was uttered it was said with all of the reverence due to the dead and all of the fondness due to a beloved.
A/N: Well, there you go my lovelies, hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Reviews are always cherished and appreciated, so if the mood strikes you, don't hesitate to drop me a line and let me know what you thought, especially in regards to Castiel who I've never ever written before and am still feeling a little shaky on. Ta!