Here's the next chapter! If it's a sloth, it's property of TheRiverScribe. I appreciate the hard work by my beloved proof-readers nathyfaith and ThallenCambricaltran. And the discord group was also an amazing help because this would not exist at all if I hadn't found them. They're a force of nature and their ideas are so very helpful. This is not the last chapter of this work. I foresee at least three more chapters, and when Muse says it's time to write, I do. Muse likes Thallen and Thallen likes more.
"Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery"- Oscar Wilde
As a fledgling archangel, Gabriel had a strange fascination with a specific creation of his Father. One of his older siblings had called it a horse. He felt some kind of kinship with the furry four legged creature. At the same time he felt as if he was connected to the strange animal, as if a song older than time itself played in his grace. It was this nagging feeling that something was missing, even though he was surrounded by all his Father's creation.
Gabriel dreamed of an eight legged colt, a world tree, and a young man. "Mama!" They were good dreams, but he was always melancholy upon awakening. His grace would hum quietly, longing spread through his entire being because something, someone, was missing. But he could never remember who it was because the memories that shouldn't exist were always just out of reach.
He wasn't the only one who dreamed of strange other worlds, and as a precocious fledgling, it was not difficult for Gabriel to figure out about Michael and Lucifer. The twins shared their own strange dreams, that were plagued by wolves and death. Wolves did not scare Gabriel. Exactly once, the littlest archangel recalled dreaming of a girl, a wolf, and a snake. His grace thrummed louder in longing and regret, but he did not know why .
Only Raphael could soothe Gabriel when his grace ached from his strange dreams. But they weren't just dreams, they were memories, even if he wasn't quite ready to wonder why he remembered other worlds. The twins couldn't help when Gabriel's grace whimpered . Michael was fire and Lucifer was ice. They'd never hurt him, but his grace only whispered inaudible nonsense, "Vali, Nari," and wouldn't calm, becoming more and more agitated as they tried to help.
Raphael would never shout, but the resulting contorted mess of twisted grace and molting feathers and tears from their baby brother was enough for him to send Michael and Lucifer careening out of the way because by Father! they were not healers and maybe, probably, Raphael could calm this maelstrom of distressed fledgling.
Gabriel learned that Raphael did not dream, and the healer could only guess as to why Gabriel's grace so despaired. None of them would discuss their dreams with each other. They were not spoken of, as though by keeping silent they were not acknowledging their consistent dreaming of things that could not possibly have ever occured.
Gabriel enjoyed playing with Father's creations and at one point, convinced Him to let him help. The result was a sloth. This fuzzy creature that moved slowly and often appeared to spend most of its time contemplating the universe. He wasn't trying to mock Raphael. Not really. Gabriel lived to irritate his siblings, but he loved them and with this, he was only trying to imitate Raphael. He was successful. Raphael loved it. So much that he kept the first sloth. It was his friend and most of the time, Raphael felt that the sloth understood him better than his siblings did.
Michael was a good -eldest brother, trying to keep Lucifer and Gabriel out of trouble. Lucifer taught the littlest fledgling everything he wanted to know, though Gabe was often Raphael's shadow.
Raphael was the quiet one. He healed his brothers when they got into trouble and he studied the books in the library or his Father's creations. He could, and often would, watch an entire life cycle of a flower or an animal, if his brothers didn't pull him away.
Gabriel made it his mission to shadow Raphael because he didn't want his brother to get lonely. Lucifer and Michael completed one another. Gabriel just wanted that for himself or for Raphael.
The platypus was supposed to be a joke. Kind of. But it was too much fun to pass up. Raphael was helping Father paint some hillsides and Gabriel was bored. He liked ducks, but what if it was a mammal that had fur instead of feathers? And nursed it's young, but laid eggs? It needed a way to defend itself, so it should be poisonous. But what if… ?
He should be glad it was Raphael that found him instead of Father.
"Gabriel!"
Gabriel, grinning, proud of himself in a way that only a toddler (or a fledgling) could be, he held up his creation towards his older brother. "It's a platypus!"
Raphael blinked. He didn't laugh, as Lucifer might have, or scold, as Michael would have. He merely blinked. "Okay…" He considered. He loved his sloth, but Father must have known more than Raph had ever figured out, because Gabriel had been banned from creature makings without a very proper supervision.
"Come see what Father and I did," Raphael finally said, an idea forming in his head. Gabriel agreed easily, so Raphael brought his little brother and the platypus to the valley they had been painting that morning. There was water in the bottom of the valley. There was green grass going out away from the water.
There were rocks on the bank of the river. Gabriel put down the platypus so he could crawl around on the ground and get a better look at the rocks. Raphael walked slowly around the edge of the water and Gabriel followed on his hands and knees. "Look at this one!" Gabriel cried, picking a rock up off the ground. It had a sharp edge and if he'd been human, he might have cut himself. The rock was a piece of smokey white crystal. The top of it was almost clear enough to see through.
Raphael turned to look at his little brother and smiled. "Quartz," he identified. He picked up the platypus. The small creature had followed them as well. "I'm going to find this little guy a home, okay?"
Gabriel offered no argument. The stone ended up in his mouth. It was too big to swallow and even if he did, it wasn't going to hurt him, so Raphael let it go. Fledglings, the older brother thought fondly. That's not to say he wasn't a fledgling, because he definitely was, but younger siblings.
Raphael found a nice home for the platypus and when Lucifer found out, he wanted to make more creatures to populate what would be an island. He let his children do as they would with the one island. He'd considered scolding Gabriel for the platypus, but there wasn't really any reason to, and the creatures Lucifer made were just as unique. Michael wanted in on the action too, and also made a few creatures to add to the island.
The first spider was an acromantula and only the fledgling that made it knew for certain who did it. Michael thought Gabriel had done it and Gabriel thought Lucifer did it. Lucifer, he wouldn't say what he thought. When accused he'd smiled wryly. It wasn't Gabriel because he never would have thought to apply the concept of an eight legged creature outside his dream of an eight legged colt.
No one realized that it was actually Raphael. He had not made any creatures yet, preferring instead to sculpt and paint the land or study the creatures already made. But just because his siblings chose not to discuss their dreams it didn't mean that Raphael didn't know about them. He was a healer and he knew the siblings he loved dearly. He knew that Michael and Lucifer could not stand being anywhere near Father's wolves and that Gabriel had mostly pleasant dreams of being an eight legged colt.
Raphael making the spider didn't actually have anything to do with the horse or the dreams. He did it because he wanted to and his brothers enjoyed it. Even if they thought it was a prank of some sort.
The idea of making dragons was collective to the four fledglings from the beginning. It was one of the rare days when all four of them were sitting in their garden sunning their wings, and Raphael posed it as what was supposed to be merely a hypothetical question. He should have known better.
"What if we made a creature with each of our favorite attributes?" Raphael asked. "Could we make a creature if we all worked together? I'd want it to be able to fly."
"Can it have scales?" Lucifer begged.
"And claws?" Michael suggested.
"I want it to breathe fire!" Gabriel exclaimed.
"..."
"..."
"No!" Lucifer cried. "I want it to breathe poison!"
Michael winced, looking over the heads of his brothers to get a better look at Raphael, who was also wincing. And giving him an apologetic half smile, eyes shining. Michael couldn't remember Raphael making any of his own creatures. Maybe a bird here or there. But most of the creatures they had made had been by Lucifer and himself, with the occasional weird addition Gabriel came up with. Raphael, for the most part, just wanted to paint rocks. But Michael knew his brothers. He knew that Raphael wanted this just as much as Lucifer and Gabriel, even if he wasn't going to say anything because the other two were about to ruin it and Michael knew he couldn't say no. Not over this. Michael sighed. "What if we make multiple ones that are different and one that has both?"
Lucifer and Gabriel looked at each other, but they both easily agreed. Making more was always more fun than fighting over one.
So they got to work making what would later be called dragons. Michael and Raphael did most of the work on the first one. It was a green scaly thing with feathered wings. It had a long slender body and four limbs with claws. The baby dragon hiccupped, spitting fire and poison.
Gabriel giggled. "'Nother one!"
"I wanna try!" Lucifer exclaimed. He tried doing what Michael and Raphael had done to make the first one, creating first a broad shouldered body with stubby limbs and leathery wings like a bat. This one hiccupped lightning.
"Ooh! Now a steam one!" Gabriel shouted. "Raphy, please?"
"Go ahead," Raphael said. "I'll help, if you need it."
Michael was content to watch his siblings make dragons. Gabriel and Lucifer did the brunt of the creating, though Michael was pleased to note that Raphael made a few unique ones of his own.
The evening of dragon creating ended when Gabriel fell asleep curled up next to the smallest of the new dragons and one of Lucifer's escaped the garden and needed to be chased by Michael because Lucifer was sitting next to a tree yawning and rubbing his eyes, too exhausted to chase after it himself.
Raphael scooped up Gabriel and his new pet (because Gabriel was not letting go of it) and tried to herd Lucifer in the direction of bed. They were only able to exit the garden before Lucifer dozed off and fell over. Raphael could not carry Lucifer, who was bigger than he was, and Gabriel, and the baby dragon.
Michael put the dragon back in the garden and went to find his brothers. Raphael had dozed off while leaning against the fence and was still holding the sleeping Gabriel and the dragon that was also sleeping. Lucifer was curled around his feet, also sleeping.
Michael smiled. "Alright," he whispered. "Let's get you all into bed." He picked Lucifer up, (because even though they were twins, Michael was the bigger of the two by enough that this was possible) and prodded Raphael awake just enough that he could be guided into motion.
Lucifer's room was closest, so Michael quickly and with relative ease tucked his twin into bed. Lucifer didn't stir at all, because he was the heaviest sleeper of them all. Gabriel's room was next, and when he and Raphael arrived, Michael pried Gabriel and the dragon out of Raphael's sleepy grasp and tucked them into their bed. Raphael's room was next to Lucifer's, and by that point he was awake enough to put himself to bed.
Michael…. His room was all the way at the other end of the building, so with Raphael put to bed he chose to sit down for a second to catch his breath, and ended up falling asleep right where he sat.
Gabriel kept the piece of quartz. It was his. Raphael kept his sloth and Gabriel kept the rock. Then Michael was casting down Lucifer and all Gabriel could do was stand there. He couldn't pick a side. This was so wrong that he had to leave. It should have been them against the world. It had been, for so long, but Gabriel still couldn't remember why this felt so much worse.
Father was gone, Lucifer was gone, and Gabriel didn't know what to do with himself. He was a little bit afraid that someone would decide it was he who needed to be cast asunder and he wasn't willing to wait for that to happen. So he ran. He muted himself to the choir to mimic an archangel's death and left everything behind. Except for his piece of quartz. He couldn't bare to part with it because even as his world was falling apart, Raphael had always been there for him. If his next older sibling got to keep the first sloth, Gabriel got to keep the rock that would remind him how much he didn't want to do this. But he had to .
The quartz shattered into many pieces as Gabriel hit Earth and hid a part of himself so deep that it would never be found again. Or so he hoped. It would not do for it to alert any of his siblings that he was still alive. He wasn't sure why it shattered, except even as he was hiding himself he could feel Raphael's agony. It was one thing to mute himself, another to stop hearing the choir altogether. Gabriel had not intended to deafen himself, but he could not bare to listen to the cacophony that he had caused. Listening would only make him change his mind and he couldn't do that . So after gathering up all the pieces of the shattered quartz, he headed for the one place he had been avoiding and the one place he thought someone could help him.
Gabriel often thought about his older brother. If he was still working on landscapes and strange creatures. Raphael mused on the lack of laughter and joy Gabriel's departure had left in heaven. Michael was strict and cold since casting Lucifer out, and with Father gone, the lonely Healer decided to explore his own imagination. If the littlest archangel had made an animal as strange as a platypus, why couldn't he?
And that's how the first unicorn was created. Raphael had been thinking about Gabriel and his love of horses while staring at a fluffy cloud white as snow. Pure . That's what this animal would be a symbol of infinite possibilities, of purity and grace. Of youth. He didn't stop there, crafting different creature. He got inspired by Father's humanity and fishes, mixing they both together and creating what he later called merpeople.
Somehow, everything brought them to this exact moment.
Somehow, everything brought them to this exact moment.
His mother's death. His after despair. His death. Sam's death. Sam's addiction to demon blood. Each and every friend they had met and lost. A freaking angel raising him from perdition, said angel of the lord disappearing only for another angel of the lord to come and bite them in the ass.
Dean felt his insides turn to mush. They were dead. They had just met Adam and now both of his little brothers were gone. The two people he loved more than life itself were gone and to what end? Just because he was too afraid to allow some angel to ride his body? How was this fair?
Sam, oh Sammy, he had had so much faith. So much more than he ever had that there was some good in the world. A brilliant deity and its first creations that kept the world from "kabooming" into itself?
Dean never had that kind of faith, although he still thought this was a piss poor way for them to repay his little brothers – the ones he was raised to protect. Perhaps, perhaps Michael could be reasoned with. Perhaps he was awkward but good, like Cas had been. He knew he couldn't kill Zachariah without an angel blade, and despite the angel's insistence that he was indeed an angel of utmost importance, Dean was sure the archangel could adjust his priorities for his True Vessel. And in case he didn't, Dean would fight him. He had held out against Alistair for thirty years, he could withstand Zachariah. "Cas- Cas, I'm sorry, but I have to-" Have to do this, have to say yes. He'd sold his soul for Sammy once. He would do it again, and again, if that's what it took. Heaven was wrong, damnit. If Sam had but asked him…. He would have gone with his little brother. It wasn't about Sam getting away from him, it was about Sam getting away from John Fucking Winchester. It may have taken years, but Dean understood that now, and maybe, maybe it wasn't too late to tell Sam that. "Yes, Michael. Yes! A thousand times yes, if you'll just bring them back!"
Dean inhaled dramatically. Hoping he would eventually feel his body being taken. But nothing happened. Nada, niente, nothing. If his entire body didn't scream pain whenever he moved the slightest he probably would have fought Zachariah already. But his broken bones prevented him from doing so.
"What a pity you are, Dean Winchester. Stop losing your breath. Just say yes, you insolent child. You are Michael's true vessel, this is your destiny. Embrace it!"
"Give my brothers back and I might just consider it," he snarled in response. Damn it, he had already said yes. What was taking Michael so long?
Zachariah paced in Dean's peripheral vision and the hunter braced himself. Again, nothing happened. It was getting ridiculous. Dean opened his eyes to find a figure standing in front of Zachariah. After going back into the past and Anna nearly killing Sammy, it wasn't difficult to recall that the man standing there definitely appeared to be the John Winchester of 1978. Except the posture was different, because it had been really easy to tell that Michael wearing John Winchester was not John Winchester himself. And wasn't that confusing to Dean, but that's just the way it was.
"Zachariah." Michael's voice echoed with the force of a thunder. "How dare you?"
The tension could be felt in the air. If a single needle fell right now, Dean bet it could be heard. "You insubordinate gloryhound! You little piece of shit! Don't you understand the mess you've made?!" Michael walked towards the younger angel - even though he was using an elder vessel - with propose.
His anger surrounded the place, making Dean feel goosebumps on his skin. "I don't recall giving you any orders. Less one that involved coercing a Vessel to consent to me! And the Winchesters? I am greatly disappointed." The archangel saw Dean barely standing and inqueried, his eyes lightning, "What in Father's name have you done to the Vessels?"
Zachariah was about to retort, but Michael waved his left hand, a tape appearing in his lips to silence the angel. With another delicate wave of his hand Dean was healed in an instant and Sam and Adam were brought back to life and healed, waking up on the dirt floor.
"Zachariah. I demand an explanation." Michael's voice caused the walls to shake. It was loud to the humans, but not as bad as Michael's true voice would have been.
Zachariah removed the tape Michael had tried to inconvenience him with. "I was preparing your Vessel for you." A slightly wheedling tone had entered his voice.
Dean was sure that if it had not been beneath him, Michael would have snorted. As it was, Dean could feel the gaze of the archangel staring at him. It was an intense gaze, as though staring at his soul. Then again, he probably was.
"This is not my Vessel."
"What do you mean he's not your vessel?" Zachariah exclaimed. "He's the righteous man!"
"I did not suggest otherwise," Michael replied. "This is the righteous man and he is not my vessel." He was doing that staring thing again. "Are you blind? Look at this soul. It is very young, despite having been to hell for forty years. It would not survive a possession by a being such as myself."
"He is a worm! Why do you care?!"
"Be silent! I have had enough of your insolence! And I am still considering smiting you."
"Excuse me, how the fuck am I not your vessel?" Dean was yelling now. "What the hell? Even Gabriel said-"
"You have spoken with…? Oh, yes, of course. He did mention that. He did not mention that there's no way you could possibly be my vessel."
Dean experienced a weird sensation then. Michael watched him curiously and it felt a little like the time Castiel had carved their ribs, except less painful. Was…. Was Michael petting his soul?!
"And the abomination?" Zachariah was looking towards Sam. "His soul is tarnished with the filth that he is! Is he not Lucifer's vessel?"
Michael's gaze turned from Dean to Sam, and far as Dean could tell he was still being petted. He would never admit it aloud, but it felt almost pleasant. "I think that his state as a vessel does not matter. Lucifer is… not currently capable of taking a vessel." The archangel continued staring at Sam's soul. "You are mistaken. This soul is hardly tarnished. It is very bright, brighter even than the Righteous Man's soul. It's also very old. I do think Gabriel has a point, though." He was nodded. "And Mother as well."
Mother?! Dean had no idea whom Michael was talking about, but he decided that this had to be the weirdest day of his life. Or was it his unlife? Roy and Walt had killed them that morning.
"This soul is very ancient," Michael explained. "Most souls don't reincarnate, they go onwards to the afterlife. If the soul doesn't go straight to the afterlife, it might become a ghost or spirit of some kind. But even that is a rarity, for when they're properly taken care of, they don't want to stick around. This soul is something different. Because some souls, some souls have a destiny, and they can't move forward to any afterlife until they have fulfilled their destiny. Sometimes…."
"I don't care! They are mud and they do not matter!" Zachariah's words were cruel, but he only echoed words similar to those his own superiors had been spewing for the last few millennia.
Michael glared at Zachariah. It was calculated and cold. "Oh brother, how far have you have fallen. I recall Father's last command was to love and observe them as we love him. Look at this two souls. Don't you think they could have something to teach us? Lucifer, Raphael and Gabriel are my brothers as much as the choir are my brothers and sisters. These two, they're more than willing to sell their souls so they won't be separated. If I'd loved Lucifer half as much as I thought I did, maybe I would have rebelled for him. I almost did as it was. Maybe in the end, I did. The cage wasn't meant to be opened, you know."
"And now you're going to kill Lucifer and bring down Paradise so Father will come home!"
Michael shook his head, tiredness in his eyes. The Winchester brothers each had a confused look on his face. Dean tilted his head, Michael had said a week ago that he would do just as Zachariah said. That he would kill Lucifer because he was a good son?
"Don't you suppose that if He wanted to come back, he would? No…. Lucifer is not your concern, and there's no apocalypse."
Zachariah scowled. "I did everything you wanted me to do! I found the vessels! But if they aren't the vessels, I can smite them for their insolence!" He moved, but not far. Michael had never stopped petting Dean, which was weird, because he was not some domestic animal to be coddled, but Michael was there.
"No, Zachariah. You are not going to smite the Winchesters. They are under my protection. Don't think I have forgotten why I am here. You're insolent, and disobedient, and I'm done listening to you threaten any humans." He snapped out, anger creeping back into his posture.
Michael then snapped his fingers, a trick unfortunately picked up from Gabriel. "Have some fun, my brother wanted to play a game with you."
"What do you mean?" Sam asked when Zachariah disappeared. "No saying yes to you, no saying yes to Lucifer, it's just… over?"
"Once upon a time, two brothers loved each other," Michael said. "Once upon a time, in a universe long since past, two brothers loved each other. And one of them killed the other, but not by choice. In that moment, they couldn't remember who they were, because for their whole lives, all that mattered was that there were two of them and they were inseparable. One brother killed the other and the whole universe fell apart. And they reincarnated throughout the universes that followed. Never too far apart, but something inevitably always happened to separate them. But this time… This time something changed."
"Yeah?" Dean was unconvinced. This was… strange. Even by their standards.
"Yes," Michael agreed. "I'm not sure yet what it was that changed, but the apocalypse has been cancelled. Castiel was supposed to tell you, but then this happened." He shook his head, and Dean could feel him remove whatever it was that was petting Dean from wherever it had been. He looked at them, all three of them, then at Adam. "Adam, you just want to return to your mother, correct?" The youngest Winchester barely had to nod before Michael had returned him safely to the heaven. He then looked at the two Winchesters.
"Were you able to find Joshua in the Garden? Castiel said he asked you to talk to him," Michael said.
"God wants Cas to stop looking for him," Dean replied.
Michael winced. "That… does not surprise me." He sighed. "Perhaps Gabriel was following in His steps more than we'd thought, if he's managed to hide himself amongst his favorite creations so successfully. I will talk to Castiel." Michael was silent long enough to gather his thoughts.
"I was going to offer you three choices, but, perhaps not. I would return the two of you to your bodies, unless you want to stay? You share a heaven, really. Whatever you think you saw, Zachariah was trying to make a point. You will not have to worry about him any more."
"Just send us back," Dean grumbled. "That's an option, right?"
"It is," Michael said. "And I can promise that you will not be bothered by any more angels, although I do believe that Castiel would be upset to lose your friendship. And my mother would like to meet you."
"Mother?" Sam asked.
"Yes. It's a long story involving reincarnation, but my parents were once known as Sigyn and Loki."
Dean choked. "Gabriel?" Sam asked, confusion coloring his voice as much as his face.
Michael would have raised an eyebrow. "What? No, why would you- ?" He considered. "Oh, I see. No, Gabriel is Sleipnir. Of all of us, he is most mischievous and when it was just him and Sigyn for a few thousand years, he embraced that part of himself. But as I said, Sigyn would like to meet you, eventually."
"Why?"
"I have no clue. It doesn't matter. Hmm…. Would you like to spend a few hours visiting your mother? For real, not whatever Zachariah came up with. Sigyn says she wants to bring you all cookies when they're done."
The Winchesters acquiesced. Michael sent them back to Heaven's Roadhouse and then he went home. Hela was still working on dinner and Sigyn had just started mixing the cookie dough, but was going to wait to put them in the oven so as to bring them hot cookies when their visit with their mother was over.
Castiel was still waiting for Michael in the kitchen. Michael wasn't sure where everyone else was, but they were not downstairs.
"Are the Winchesters okay?" Castiel asked.
"Zachariah killed Sam and Adam in an attempt to force Dean to submit to being my vessel. I reminded him that coercion is unacceptable and I healed the three of them. Gabriel will have fun with Zachariah, I believe." Michael glanced at his brother. Earlier he had only sought to comfort Castiel, but now that Michael really looked, what he saw concerned him. Why was Castiel falling? Why had Gabriel allowed it to continue?
"Gabriel?" Michael whispered directly to his brother. "Why haven't you restored Castiel's connection to heaven?"
"Who, me? Until yesterday you thought I was dead. Restoring Castiel would have been a dead giveaway. Besides. Aren't you the Prince of Heaven, Mikey?"
Michael would have rolled his eyes. Instead, he reached a hand over to stroke the base of Castiel's wings. "Castiel, may I fix this?"
"Fix what?" he asked.
Michael wanted to wince. What in Father's name had happened to heaven? Zachariah was running around thinking that coercion and torture of humans was acceptable, Castiel believed that the fact that he was falling was not something that needed to be fixed, and Raphael was convinced that what he wanted and needed was at the very bottom of a hierarchy of what everyone else wanted. What was he supposed to do? Joshua had said that Father wasn't returning to heaven, which, considering everything he'd done, was probably for the best, but since Raphael and Lucifer were fledglings again, and Gabriel loved this life, how was he supposed to fix it on his own?
"Not alone, Michael," Hela said, scooping whatever she had made onto plates. "You have all of us, just ask."
"Thanks," Michael mumbled. He looked up to see that Sigyn was watching him again, but she didn't say anything.
Returning to the task at hand, Michael ran his other hand down Castiel's spine, along his wings. "This, Castiel. May I fix this? You should not be falling." Castiel gave Michael a confused nod. Michael closed his eyes, looking for Castiel's grace as he started lightly grooming the feathers. An angel falling meant that they were weren't receiving as much grace from heaven as they were supposed to be receiving. In some cases, not returning to heaven frequently enough could mimic the effects, but Michael would have no trouble telling the difference and he had been sure from his first glance that this was falling. He wondered momentarily if Annael had chosen to cut her grace off to prevent going through this. It was not common, but Michael was sure that most angels would find what Castiel had been going through to be agonizingly slow. And yet as far as he knew, Castiel had not mentioned it to anyone. Like he didn't even know that something was wrong.
Michael looked deeper, using the smallest bit of his own grace to rekindle Castiel's connection to his own. Following the pathways in Castiel's grace, Michael checked to make sure everything was the way it was supposed to be. He was not a healer like Raphael, but that didn't mean he wasn't capable of healing grace or reconnecting an angel to heaven in the event that someone was mistakenly disconnected.
As he followed a pathway, Michael found something that confused him. Across one of the pathways there was a scar. That in and of itself was not that much of a surprise, because in recent times, not all injuries had been treated as well as they could have been and scars were not as scarce as they ought to be. It still seemed like an odd place for a scar. Michael healed it, because it looked to be in a place that could prevent grace from returning to Castiel as it was supposed to. He continued along this pathway and found another scar, and then another, and another.
"Do you remember how you came by these injuries?" Michael asked.
"What injuries?"
From where he was in Castiel's grace, Michael knew that Castiel was telling the truth, that he honestly had no idea why the pathways in his grace were scarred. "May I glance at your mind? It won't hurt, but I think there's something wrong here." Michael felt Castiel's hesitant acceptance, and probed deeper, this time into Castiel's mind. He found what he was looking for almost instantly. She may have wiped his mind flawlessly time and time again, but that didn't mean that it didn't cause easily identifiable injuries if one knew what they were looking for.
Michael pushed his grace through the pathway's in Castiel's mind, healing the scarring and opening the pathways connected to heaven, such that Castiel wouldn't have to go back to replenish his grace. He recognized the grace that had worked to injure Castiel and though he was angry, he was not going to act rashly and accidentally injure what he was trying to fix.
"Michael? What are you doing to my grace?"
"I am promoting you!" Michael declared. "As a seraph, you won't need to return to heaven to restore your grace."
"Gabriel."
"What?!"
"You're the Archangel of Judgement, are you not?!"
"Michael, what's the problem?"
"Naomi has been torturing our siblings to re-educate them, scarring their grace and wiping their memories!"
"Michael?"
Michael jerked away from Castiel. His brother was not harmed by his grace, although he did look a little wary at being next to an irate archangel.
Sigyn had spoken. She was looking at Michael again, head tilted slightly. "What happened?"
"Heaven's gone insane," Michael said. "Naomi's torturing and brainwashing angels because she can."
"And you're just going to, what, smite her right now?" Sigyn raised an eyebrow.
Michael considered. "Doing so won't fix the angels she's hurt." He conceded grudgingly. Which was probably the point Sigyn was trying to make. "Those injured should be the first concern. But she also can't be allowed to hurt anyone else." Michael tried to remember if Naomi had a superior, but nothing came to his mind. He was sure Raphael would know, if he wasn't a fledgling again.
"And what do you want me to do about Naomi?" Gabriel asked.
"You're the Archangel of Judgement, are you not?" Michael retorted. "She tortured and tried to brainwash Fenrir."
"Well, aren't you a manipulative one. After I'm done playing with Zachariah, she and I can have some one on one time. No one hurts my family."
It didn't bother Michael that Gabriel was referring to his family that was an extension of Sigyn and not their family that was all the angels. They were still their siblings, and they'd all helped raising them, but the bond between the archangels was different than the bond between the angels or the bond between the archangels and the angels.
"I'm not going to be able to heal all the angels in heaven by myself, Gabriel. But could you maybe try to find out who needs it the most?"
Sigyn pulled a cookie sheet out of the oven. Michael didn't remember her putting it in, so she must have done it while he'd been healing Fenrir. "I'm going to take these up to those Winchester boys. See you later. Michael- "
"No smiting Naomi. I know," he said in a petulant voice.
Sigyn nodded, giving him a smile, and left.
