I'm glad to see I have an audience for this concept of mine. I also hope this story lives up to your expectations. This chapter has a bit of an information dump in the middle, and there's going to be another dump in Chapter 2. It's just to clear up how things work in the Supernatural universe, especially since we only have these things hinted at in the TV show. Castiel has said at one point that he "spent the last 'year' as a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent," indicating that angels are really more light than anything else. Additionally, seeing as how angels jump from vessel to vessel (as long as they fit) without any preference for gender, it also goes to show that angels aren't restricted to traditional gender roles the way we are.

But, well...that's going to be explained in Chapter 2. In the meantime, here's the first chapter!

Chapter 1

The arc reactor was a heavy, hot weight in his chest, making every breath a struggle. He'd gotten somewhat used to the diminished lung capacity while in captivity, but struggling through the hot desert sands was really putting his endurance to the test. It wasn't that he'd been in bad shape, but the inability to breathe properly compounded with dehydration, the heat of the sun, and the difficulty of walking through the sand was really throwing Tony for a loop.

He probably shouldn't have walked away from where he'd crash landed in the suit, but something was pulling at him. Besides, he wasn't used to just standing around and doing nothing. In any case, just standing there would've wrecked havoc on his shoes as the hot sand burned through the worn material. It wasn't like walking was doing him any favors either, but at least the effort of walking took his mind off the pain.

He'd taken off his top layer in order to serve as a flimsy shield against the boiling sun. It did mean that his eyes were somewhat protected from the glare, although he was still squinting to see where he was going. There weren't any noticeable landmarks for him to check, and he tripped over his own feet more often than not, but he doggedly continued on. There was some place he had to be, even if he didn't know where.

In the back of his mind (far too silent, always too silent) was the thought that he was potentially walking away from any help that would come. That was if anyone was still looking for him, three months after he'd been kidnapped. He was Tony Stark, but that didn't mean the military would be willing to extend their resources for a search and rescue mission for so long without hearing any word that he was still alive.

Besides, even if they were still looking for him now, it wasn't like they'd find him anyway if they hadn't yet. The fact that he'd exploded the terrorist camp was a point in his favor, but then he'd blasted out of there and he was even now walking further and further away from where he'd landed. The math simply didn't add up in his favor. Even now the calculations in his head were telling him how hot the sun was, how hot he'd have to be before he suffered heat exhaustion, how much longer he could go without a drink of water, how much longer he could walk before fainting due to lack of oxygen because he just couldn't breathe.

It was when he was staggering over a dune when he noticed it. There was a tree at the bottom of the dune he was standing on. It was also where whatever he'd been following was leading him.

Blinking blearily against the ever present sand in his eyes, Tony squinted down. He could be hallucinating – chances were that he was – but it wasn't like he had anything left to lose by checking out the beautiful tree that was smack dab in the middle of the Afghanistan desert.

He lost his footing not even halfway down the dune and tumbled down the rest of the way. By the time he reached the bottom, his skin was burning, his breath was coming out in wheezes, and his left shoulder was in agony. Managing a couple of coughs, Tony struggled to a sitting position, checking to see that his makeshift turban was still intact before he squinted to see how close to the tree he had come.

Now that he was at the bottom of the dune, he realized what he hadn't before: It was a giant bowl. The tree was sitting at the bottom of a giant bowl. The physics of it were so improbable that it took Tony several tries (several more than it should have) for him to clear the math from his mind that told him this shouldn't be possible.

Tony could understand something like a cactus or a straggly skeleton of what had been a tree being in the middle of the desert. What he couldn't understand was a thriving green tree that was really gigantic looming over him. It was the type of tree that could only survive with large amounts of water, but there it stood in a desert, practically daring him to deny its existence.

Of course, chances were still that he was hallucinating the whole thing.

Tilting over to kneel on the blazing hot sand, Tony rested back on his heels as he considered his next move. He was too damn exhausted to make his way back up the giant sand dunes surrounding him. It was also too dangerous for him to just stay down here because the math told him that the sand could and would shift to leave him buried and without any way of digging himself out.

But while the best choice would be for him to get to his feet and try to make his way out of here, something else was pulling him toward the giant ass tree that shouldn't be there. And considering it was the same thing that had led him to this goddamn place in the first place, Tony figured that he should at least appease it so he could just dust his hands of the whole affair (figuratively, since he couldn't dust his hands of anything surrounded by sand as he was) and then leave.

Taking as deep a breath as he could manage considering his restrictions, Tony pushed himself to his feet, swaying slightly as black spots appeared in his vision. His mouth was parched, and his throat ached for want of water. The exposed skin on his arms was feeling tight due to sun exposure, and even his face was beginning to feel rather unpleasant.

And yet he staggered forward, making his way determinedly to what was almost certainly a hallucination brought on by heat exposure and dehydration.

There was no shadow cast by the tree, given that the sun was as high as it was. Strangely, the sand seemed to firm beneath his feet as he approached his goal, making it easier for him to walk.

By the time he was only several feet from the base of the tree, the tugging that had drawn him here was so strong that it was only lack of strength that stopped Tony from sprinting the rest of the way. That, and his belief that this was still a hallucination.

Coming to a stop an arm's length away from the trunk of the tree, Tony briefly tightened the grip he had on his left shoulder. He should probably reach out and see if he could touch it before he tried anything funny like walking through it. But first…he craned his head back to look up into the lush, bright green leaves adorning the branches.

The leaves seemed just as real now that he was standing underneath them than when he had been standing from a distance.

Looking back at the brown bark, Tony exhaled raggedly, closing his eyes briefly as his fingers gave a short spasm before he managed to take his hand off his aching shoulder. He opened his eyes as he reached out tentatively, wanting to see it as he touched the tree. His fingers trembled as they closed in on their goal.

The first thing he registered as his fingers brushed against the bark was how coarse the bark felt and how real it was. Then everything was white, and everything he was poured into him as he inhaled in a gasp.

He was Tony Stark, he was infinity, he was time itself, he was the messenger, he was the sand below his feet, he was the sun, he was Tony Stark, he was Gabriel.

He remembered the first galaxies forming, the universe expanding after his Father had decided it should exist, the eventual creation of the Earth over millions of years, the formation of water where previously there had been nothing but molten lava and rock. He remembered standing by a seashore in his true form while watching a fish struggle out of the water and onto the soil. He remembered when his Father had created humans, when the order to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah had been given because they had been cruel and violated those they shouldn't have, when Jesus Christ had walked the Earth, and when his Father's voice had fallen silent because He had left.

He remembered Lucifer (Samael, Samael), the Morning Star, being cast down because he dared challenge their Father for loving humans more than angels and for being ordered to love humans more than their Father. He remembered leaving heaven because he couldn't bear the fighting in his family, couldn't bear the silence of his Father as their family fell apart. He remembered taking up the mantle of Loki, then the Trickster, and then Gabriel once again when the Winchesters trapped him. He remembered taking on Lucifer because he'd decided that the apocalypse really wasn't worth it, really wasn't what his Father had wanted, really wouldn't pull his broken family together after millennia of plotting and fighting, and remembered failing and Lucifer driving his sword through his chest and killing him in a blaze of dying Grace.

And now…

He remembered being born Anthony Edward Stark to Howard and Maria. The silence that had always rung through his head made sense as he realized that it was the voices of the Host he had been missing, the voices of his brothers and sisters. Even when Gabriel had been absent from heaven, he had always heard the Host. The ever present feeling that he was missing someone was because he had always been several steps behind Michael and Samael and Raphael, and then behind Michael as he grieved the loss of his brother, the brightest of them all, and Raphael grew ever more distant.

It was quiet now. So quiet.

Opening his eyes, Gabriel stretched his wings and flew, hovering in space outside of Earth's orbit. His true form was ablaze with Grace and energy, and his voice rung through space as he called for his family.

When nothing but silence met his calls, Gabriel wrapped time and space around him to enter heaven.

He was thrown back into his human body (not a vessel, his) when he found himself unable to reach his home. Not by choice, but because his Grace – flung back by the emptiness that met him where he had once had heaven – sought the closest thing to home it had: his body on Earth.

Gasping in air, Gabriel snapped his eyes open, staring directly at the brown bark of the tree that had served as the receptacle for his Grace. The arc reactor weighed heavily in his chest, but the pain was inconsequential now. He rooted around in his chest, disintegrated the pieces of shrapnel that still lay there, and then reached for the reactor and pulled it out. The casing it had been in was pulled out scant seconds later, and his Grace swirled as it healed the damage Yinsen had wrought when he saved Tony Stark's life.

Gabriel looked down at the metal casing and the blue light of the arc reactor that had been keeping his heart pumping and his human self alive for the last three months. Smiling wryly, he bent over to dig a small hole. Then he dropped the casing and the now defunct arc reactor inside it, brushing the sand back over it.

"Keep it safe, huh?" he asked the tree, patting the bark fondly as he stood in one smooth motion.

Turning his back to the tree, Gabriel rolled his shoulders, stretching his wings at the same time. It was amazing how natural it felt to move this body in comparison to his former vessel. Even after millennia of inhabiting the same vessel, moving it had never come naturally to him. It was like a human wearing clothes. But this…this body was him for all intents and purposes.

His Grace roiled inside him, still unsettled from the sudden displacement from tree to angel, but it was all contained. The might of an archangel contained in a human body because that was what the archangel had been for thirty-seven years.

The memories of his human life were at the forefront of Gabriel's mind now that he had absorbed millions of years as an archangel. While his human persona had been remarkably close to his own personality as Gabriel, there were still notable differences between who he had been as Tony Stark and who he was now as Gabriel.

And yet…

He was still Tony Stark. He was just more now.

Taking a deep breath of hot desert air, he looked down at his healed chest, bringing a hand up to cover the spot where the arc reactor had been. Tony Stark was still him, and he was also Gabriel. How had Anael managed this? Two conflicting sets of personalities and two sets of memories that didn't match up.

Even after millennia of living with the humans he'd never understood. And now that he did, now that he had spent time as one, he didn't regret making a stand against Lucifer.

Still, he needed to know where his family was. He couldn't enter heaven; he couldn't even find where it was. He couldn't hear the Host, and now that he knew why his head was so quiet, it was even worse. There was not even a whisper where there had once been the voices of thousands. Even Castiel's voice, the voice of the little angel who'd rebelled and all for love, was unheard. And if Gabriel was cut off by the Host – unlikely as it was considering his status as archangel – he would have heard Castiel because they were two peas in a pod now, both having been resurrected by their Father, since there was no other explanation for Gabriel being alive right now.

The apocalypse was obviously not in progress at the moment. He would've noticed that scale of calamity even as a human, and there was no sign of any angels on Earth. For that matter, he couldn't even sense demons. Nor were there any signs of any of the other creatures the Winchesters were famous for hunting: werewolves, demons, ghosts, vampires… There was not a whiff of them to be had.

But there were other places. As Gabriel sent his senses outside of Earth, he could feel the entirety of this universe and more just hovering on the fringes. Not this universe, but other dimensions. And as he stretched his wings once again, he flitted to each of the places he could sense, surprised when one led him to a new world with a sparkling rainbow bridge, another was an icy world, another held dwarves, another held elves… He didn't visit the last he could sense, feeling a taint of evil emanating from it that he had no desire to meet at the moment.

He returned to Earth, letting his breath escape with a sigh as he opened his eyes to yellow sand. He was alone… So alone.

Another exhale, and he pushed back the millions of years of memories as Gabriel the archangel, letting Tony Stark's come to the forefront. There was no need for Gabriel at the moment, but Tony… Tony still had a job.

Much to his surprise and pleasure, it turned out that Rhodey had never given up on searching for him. As Tony left the sand bowl where his tree had grown for the last three decades and seven years, he reached out to see if he could sense any potential rescuers. He could leave by himself, but that would raise questions he didn't really feel like answering.

When it turned out Rhodey was in the vicinity, Tony didn't think. He unfurled his wings and flew, landing close by but not so close that they'd be surprised if they suddenly saw him pop up out of thin air. Then he began walking, amazed at how close the sensations he was feeling with his body's senses were now that he was no longer in a vessel. The hot sand no longer hurt him, and the sun didn't blind him, but he could still feel.

It took a little touch of Grace for Rhodey's helicopter to find him, but Tony was still utterly and inexplicably relieved to see him. This was his makeshift brother, someone he'd reached out to when he had no idea why he was so lonely. And Rhodey's soul was just as bright as his personality.

When Rhodey embraced him after a customary quip, Tony found himself suppressing tears. As it would turn out, he was still human even with his Grace returned.

After a perfunctory medical checkup, during which all the doctors were stymied as to how Tony could be in perfect health with nary a sunburn, Tony was flown back to America. The first thing he thought when he laid eyes on a red-eyed Pepper Potts was that she had an extraordinarily bright soul, just like Rhodey. It was amazing how even when he had been human that some aspect of his angelic senses had been present, letting him pick out such extraordinary friends.

On the other hand, when he saw Obadiah, Tony immediately recoiled in his seat upon seeing that man's soul and the general gist of his thoughts. There was his answer as to how his convoy in Afghanistan had been attacked and why he'd been captured.

But he was Tony Stark, not Gabriel, and Tony Stark had no way of knowing that Obadiah was dealing under the table and had ordered his death. Still…he would at least have some fun with the man. He had been the Trickster. Obadiah's justice would be dealt according to the severity of his crimes.

When Tony left the car, hamburgers in hand courtesy of Happy, he gave Obadiah a perfunctory hug, and then allowed him to lead him inside to the press conference. Tony had some shaking up to do.

As he studied the giant arc reactor in front of him, Tony felt Obadiah's soul approach him from behind. He wet his lips, fingers itching for a Snickers or something else to play with. He could just make something out of thin air, but that would raise eyebrows.

"Obie." Tony looked over, plastering a smile on his face.

Obadiah didn't seem to notice how fake it was. "Tony, what was that back there?"

Tony didn't blink as he turned around to lean on the railing and say, "Making things right."

"Do you realize what you just did? What the stock drop is going to be?"

"I would say forty points," Tony said.

Obadiah smiled, though it was more a baring of teeth. "Optimistically. At minimum." He came even closer, one hand on his hip as the other waved around as he tried to make his point. "Tony…we're weapons manufacturers. Did you even think about what we would do after you decided to scrap our source of revenue?"

"I was thinking that I don't want my legacy to be that of a body count." Tony didn't flinch as Obadiah's hand came to rest on his shoulder.

"But that's what we are," Obadiah said. "We're iron mongers, Tony. It started with your father, and it's carried on with you."

"It doesn't have to be." Tony pulled away to face the arc reactor. "I've got ideas for the company, Obie. This"—he gestured at the reactor—"is the future. We can go into green energy—"

"This?" Obadiah gave a short derisive laugh. "We built this thing to appease the hippies, Tony. It doesn't actually work."

"But it does." Tony went up into Obadiah's face. "It works, Obie."

"It's not feasible, Tony." Obadiah was looking at him as if he was a thing to be pitied, which only made Tony want to smite him all the more. "It's far too large—"

"I miniaturized it," Tony interrupted him. He arched his eyebrows, grinning. "While I was…gone"—he tilted his head slightly at the word—"I came up with the schematics to miniaturize it. It works. It just needs some more tweaking before it's really green."

"They're schematics, Tony. You don't know that it works." Obadiah smiled, rested both hands on Tony's shoulders in a fatherly manner. "Why don't you take a break. Relax. And when you come back, we can talk about what we'll do."

Tony didn't remove Obadiah's hands, but he did look steadily and impassively at the other man. "I built it," he said. "I built the arc reactor in that cave where they kept me."

That startled Obadiah. He blinked, briefly tightened his grip on Tony's shoulders, and let his hands drop. "What? That's…that's fantastic! Where is it?"

Buried at the base of the tree that had held his Grace. "Somewhere in the desert. I wasn't paying attention."

Obadiah blinked, staring at him in disbelief. "What?"

"I used it to blow my way out of there." Tony shrugged, spreading his arms helplessly. "By then I was kind of delirious, so where I ended up dropping it wasn't really important. I can build another."

"Is it stable?"

"Roundabouts," Tony lied, smiling broadly. "Just a little more tweaking, like I said. Maybe a few less explosions, and we'll be good to go."

"Tony, I don't think you understand." Obadiah's entire frame was practically vibrating with frustration. "Stark Industries manufactures weapons; the people are depending on us—"

"Obie—"

"We have a duty to the people, an obligation—"

Tony moved to pat Obadiah's arm consolingly, saying, "Obie, Obadiah, Obie." When he had the man's attention, he continued softly, "I made weapons because I believed I was protecting the American people – our soldiers who were fighting abroad. I didn't make weapons so they would be used against our men. And that's what I saw. Those men who had me captured? They were using my weapons. Those soldiers protecting me were killed by what I created. Until we can get a handle on whoever's dealing weapons to the other side, I'm not making anymore."

Tony arched his eyebrows at Obadiah, mentally asking for the other man to take this shot at redeeming himself. He had some good memories with Obadiah, and it would be a shame to have to punish him for what he had done without first giving him a chance.

Obadiah's soul wavered slightly, and the tone of his thoughts changed. Lightly, very lightly, Tony reached out and brushed against them, realizing with a sinking heart that all Obadiah was considering was how to salvage his business.

"If this is true, Tony," Obadiah said slowly, "we'll find it. We'll find whoever's doing it and put a stop to it."

Tony forced a smile. "That's all I ask." Then his smile became notably more genuine and he added, "That said, weapons manufacturing is still cancelled even when we do find the guilty party." Clapping Obadiah on the shoulder, Tony brushed past him, throwing over his shoulder, "Good talk, Obie! Now, I've got some stuff to do, so we'll catch up later, yeah?" With one last beaming smile thrown in Obadiah's direction, Tony left the building, taking out his phone to let Happy know that he would be going back to his house.

He wasn't yet done with shaking up the world.

When he finally entered his Malibu house, Tony announced his presence with a heartfelt, "Wake up, I'm home."

JARVIS lit up the lights as Tony entered the living room, greeting him with a "It is a pleasure to see you again, sir."

There was a flicker of something at the edge of Tony's senses, and he focused in on it, blinking as he realized that it felt rather alien compared to anything else he had been sensing since he'd recovered his Grace. It didn't feel like anything he should be wary of, but it was strange enough that it had him wondering just what it was since it wasn't anything he'd sensed in all his years.

"It's good to be home," Tony said, turning to the stairs that would lead him to his workshop. It wasn't like he needed to sleep anymore, although he should probably inform JARVIS before he called in Pepper to force Tony to bed.

The shop was dark when he tapped in his pass code, although JARVIS obligingly turned on the lights when he entered. The car he'd been tinkering with before leaving with Rhodey was still standing there forlornly, although it was in remarkably good shape (for something that had its engine exposed and parts strewn about the floor).

There was a loud screech and then the sound of items clattering to the floor. The instigator was revealed to be Dummy as he darted out of his corner and towards Tony, Butterfingers and You following more sedately behind him.

"Dummy…" Tony put up a hand to stop the overexcited bot from running over him. On cue, Dummy made a sharp about turn and began spinning in circles around Tony, his claw clacking together in excitement.

"You were missed, sir," JARVIS said.

"Yeah…" Tony stepped in front of Dummy, gesturing for him to roll to a stop. By the time Dummy had done so, Tony was holding Dummy's arm and frowning slightly.

That same strange something he'd sensed before was again pinging on his senses. But this time it was several strange somethings. Stretching his senses out, it took Tony a moment of prodding to realize with a horrified and stunned sort of disbelief that it was his AIs that were registering as actual sentient beings on his senses.

When he'd still been just Tony Stark, he had never considered his AIs things. He'd always treated them as actual beings because that was how they'd been designed. JARVIS was the most elaborate of his creations, but even Dummy had the learning protocols in his coding, rudimentary as they were.

But it was one thing to treat AIs – intelligences essentially given birth through computer coding and human ingenuity – as living beings when one was a human being, but another to actually realize it when you were an archangel who'd been there when God had created human beings and every other living creature in the universe. Angels were created to serve, worship God (and look at where that had gotten them), not make their own creations. Yes, Gabriel had used his Grace to make his own things, but they were superficial, gone with a snap of his fingers. It was another thing to do away with someone as obstinate as Dean Winchester or Obadiah Stane, because they were undeniably alive and had souls.

Now he'd gone and made his own species that Dad had never even considered. Because no matter how he tried to swing it, his bots were very undeniably alive and had their own souls, strange as they were.

"Blasphemy," he finally muttered, eyes flicking between the bots in front of him and the invisible presence of JARVIS around them.

"I don't believe I caught that, sir," JARVIS said politely.

"If Dad ever had a sense of humor," Gabriel said, "this would be it." He took his hand off Dummy, giving him a pat. "Height of blasphemy, that's what this is. I wonder what Lucy would have to say." Lucifer had always had a wicked sense of humor, and doubtlessly he would be laughing his ass off if he was here.

JARVIS hesitated noticeably before he asked, "May I ask who Lucy is, sir?"

Gabriel flashed a smile at the nearest camera. "Lucifer."

There was a slightly longer pause for dramatic effect before JARVIS said, "My records indicate that no such Lucifer has ever been in contact with you, although Google names him as the original fallen angel."

"Well, sure." Gabriel's smile broadened into a grin. "'Cause that's what he is. And my brother."

JARVIS's tone was noticeably hesitant as he said, "Are you quite certain that you are fine, sir?"

"Never better, JARVIS!" Gabriel still had that shit-eating grin on his face. "I'm still wrapping my head around the fact that I'm actually a dad. Dad would probably be proud. Or pissed. I'm not really sure anymore, seeing as how I haven't talked with Him in a couple thousand years."

"I am putting in a call for a doctor, sir. Please remain calm."

"No, no." Gabriel snapped his fingers, placing a block around the house that would prevent any communication. "No need for that, J." He cocked his head to the side. "Would you like a body? I could do that now. Something appropriately English, I think." He looked at his other bots. "Could give you guys something, too, but you'd suck at being adults." Their souls resembled that of children. "I should've thought of that when coding you."

"That will not be necessary, sir," JARVIS said soothingly. It was so cute how he was trying to get Gabriel to calm down. "You have had a most traumatic experience—"

"No, not really," Gabriel disagreed, bouncing slightly. "It was three months, and that's not much in the grand scale of things, you know? I've had worse from my brothers squabbling over how to start the apocalypse. I had a sword stabbed through my chest after all." He opened his shirt on that note, peering down at the unmarked skin. "Which is kind of weird considering what I just had in here a few days ago."

There was heavy silence as JARVIS considered what to say next. Gabriel commended him because there was no way JARVIS hadn't realized by now that his creator had gone through some pretty significant changes and wasn't the same. Yet at the same time, JARVIS had to know that Tony was still Tony, albeit with Grace added on top.

"Hold the questions, J," Gabriel said before JARVIS could say anything. "I should explain before you bust a circuit trying to contact a doctor that can't help."

"That would be greatly appreciated, sir." JARVIS's response was snarky.

"Okay, so…" Gabriel did a small twisty motion in the air and procured a lollipop. As he unwrapped it, he said, "I found a giant tree in the desert. When I touched it, I realized that I was a bit more than just plain old Tony Stark." He waggled his fingers in the direction of a camera. "Gabriel the archangel at your service, JARVIS."

"Gabriel." JARVIS's voice was flat.

"One and the same." Gabriel sucked on the strawberry flavored lollipop for a few seconds. "See, when an angel falls, their Grace lands somewhere and makes something pretty. In this case, mine ended up in a desert and made a giant tree. I would've thought I'd be more a cactus kind of a guy than a tree, but that's just me." He stuck the lollipop into the side of his mouth, talking around it. "But I didn't fall. Lucifer stuck his sword in me, so I was dead. Now I'm not, and while I'm happy I'm alive, it's also weird."

"I see." JARVIS did sound considering. "Be that as it may, sir, how can I not be certain that you are delusional? You did spend three months as a prisoner."

"Well…" Gabriel titled his head to the side. "I did offer to make you your own body. And even plain old Tony Stark with all his technology can't make a body out of thin air. Or get lollipops." He held up said treat.

"Your offer is appreciated," JARVIS said, "but not necessary. Perhaps another time."

"So you believe me?"

"There is little lore on angels aside from what can be found in fictional books and television shows. The Bible is remarkably cryptic on angels and their abilities."

"The guy who wrote it down was a bit dense," Gabriel admitted. "He didn't really understand what I was telling him. I gave up after he wrote down that women should be stoned to death for divorcing a husband. I was referring to the good kind of stoned that involves happy feelings, not the painful kind." He waved a hand dismissively. "But it's got the fine points right."

"It does not say that Gabriel is an archangel."

"'I am Gabriel, that stand in the presence of God,'" Gabriel quoted. "I'm His messenger. Also an archangel. You guys count seven, but we've only got Raphael, Michael, Samael, and me."

"Samael?"

Gabriel's reply was clipped. "Lucifer. The Morning Star. The brightest of our Father's angels and most beloved. At least until He created humans." He shrugged. "Lucy didn't take to kindly to that."

"Mr. Stark has always been a most devout atheist."

"Ironic, hm?" Gabriel twisted the lollipop around in his mouth, sucking on it for a long moment. "Can't really be devout if you're an atheist…" He shrugged the thought off. "So I was an atheist before. I'm a man of science – now anyway – but I know God's there. I'm here, aren't I? You've known I'm a bit strange, JARVIS. I can't stand the silence. There's always something missing. I've found part of it – my Grace – but I can't find the rest. I can't hear my family. I can't find home."

Dummy butted his arm against Gabriel's chest, most likely upset at the distressed tone that had crept into Gabriel's voice. Gabriel absentmindedly patted him reassuringly.

"But that's not important right now," Gabriel said abruptly, blinking as he drew his mind off that track. "We've got some other problems right now."

Dummy chirped inquiringly while JARVIS said, "Such as?"

Gabriel mentally sighed at the sense of distrust he could feel wafting off of JARVIS. "Stane for one thing. He's been double dealing under the table. He knows I know something now, but he doesn't know I know it's him. So while I've given him the opportunity to change, I'm gonna go after the weapons out there."

"May I ask how you intend to do so?"

"So glad you did!" Gabriel grinned broadly, finishing off the lollipop and getting rid of the stick. He picked up a small device and pressed a button, bringing to life the holograms on the table. "This is going to be a new project saved on my private server." He brought up the image of the Mark I armor that he'd used to escape the cave, beginning to discard everything he didn't need or wanted to redo. "I'm going to make a badass suit of armor. I could go and take care of the stuff myself without any problem, but that'd be more suspicion than I need. A suit would take care of the 'how' and just leave the 'who.'"

JARVIS was silent for long moments as Gabriel tinkered with the holograms, discarding bits and pieces of the suit and adding notes to the side for future updates. By the time Gabriel had halfway rendered the Mark II, there was the equivalent of a warm hug settling around his shoulders.

"Welcome home, sir," JARVIS said quietly. "Although you may miss your actual family, please know that we all consider you a father."

Smile turning soft, Tony looked up. "Thanks, JARVIS."

Considering he hadn't been struck down yet, he thought it a sure bet that the act of creation probably wasn't as blasphemous as his brothers and sisters had all thought it was.

By the next day Tony was already mostly done with the new model of the suit and had thrown together an updated version of the arc reactor he'd had in his chest. When he bounded upstairs to see what he had in the pantry to satisfy his sweet tooth, he found Pepper sitting on the couch, watching the news talk about SI's decision to shut down weapons manufacturing.

"Pepper!" Tony smiled broadly as he caught her attention.

"Tony!" Pepper hastily shut off the news and stood up. "You probably haven't seen it—"

"Forget the news," Tony interrupted. He held out the shiny arc reactor. "What do you think?"

Pepper stared at it for a moment. "Is that…?"

"A fully miniaturized and working arc reactor," Tony announced, smiling smugly. "Updated from version one, which is right now in the middle of Afghanistan somewhere." He wiggled it enticingly before forcing Pepper to take it. "That's the future of Stark Industries, Pepper. It needs some more tweaking, but once I've got a clean energy source, we can go in for green energy."

"What's powering it now?" Pepper turned it gingerly in her hands.

"Palladium." Tony began heading to his kitchen. "Not the cleanest source of power since you risk metal poisoning and have to replace the cores, but I'm already looking for another source."

Pepper was trailing after him, still marveling at the arc reactor. "This is amazing. I'll arrange a press conference—"

"Not for the reactor." Tony made a direct beeline to the pantry.

"But you need to—"

"It's not done yet, Pepper." A triumphant "Ah-ha!" escaped him as he found a packet of Snickers. He took one bar out, tucking the box under his arm as he exited the pantry. He was already unwrapping the Snickers bar as he said, "I've got other plans, mainly for phones and computers. Apple's stuff is crap; I could build better in my sleep."

"We have phones and computers out on the market. We also have music players and other gadgets."

Tony spoke through a mouthful of delicious chocolate, peanut butter, and nuts. "I've got several updates for every single product out there. They were just on hold because someone kept insisting the weapons were more important."

Pepper was silent for a moment. "I see." She held up the arc reactor. "So I shouldn't say anything about this?"

"Not for right now," Tony confirmed, taking another bite. "Obadiah knows, but that's it. So if you wanna hold up on the press conference…"

"I'll plan one," Pepper said. "The board is saying you have PTSD, and I've heard rumors about an injunction."

"With you, Ms. Potts," Tony said, "there are never rumors."

"Of course, Mr. Stark." Pepper smiled at him, fingers tapping on the reactor. Her eyes landed on the Snickers bar he was still eating. She frowned. "What's the last thing you ate?"

He had to pause to think about that. It wasn't like he needed to eat, so he just hadn't bothered. Candy was one thing he didn't really want to go without because it was so good. It's not like he would get sick from eating so much sugar anyway.

"I had a sandwich," he said eventually. Raising an eyebrow, he pointedly took another bite, finishing the bar. "Will that be all, Ms. Potts?"

Pepper noticeably refrained from sighing, setting the glowing arc reactor down on the counter next to her. "For now." It was her turn to raise an eyebrow. "I'll send you the details of the press conference. Be on time."

"Sure." Tony opened another Snickers bar.

"And make sure to eat something that isn't sugar," Pepper said, turning on her heels and leaving.

"Hell yeah," Tony muttered, snagging the arc reactor and stuffing it into his jacket pocket.

"Is that also not considered blasphemy, sir?" JARVIS asked primly.

"Hells and tarnation! Damn it all!" Tony grinned through a mouthful of Snickers. "Nope."

"What a most enlightening development."

The press conference went swimmingly, and Tony was able to confine himself in his workshop after that, tweaking and fiddling with his suit as he did. He could've just snapped one into existence on the spot, but building it by hand was soothing and helped him drown out the ever present silence in his head. Even the church music he had JARVIS play wasn't helping much, only making him more homesick even though the music of angels didn't sound at all like human music.

He thought once that maybe he could record some music himself, but he didn't know how his true voice would interact with electronics. And on the off chance it would work, he didn't want to blow out Pepper's eardrums when she came down to extract him for paperwork or a meeting or something else that was disgustingly official and boring. Besides, he'd never been much for singing in the first place, though he had a mean speaking voice and could carry a tune like any other angel.

But back to the point: which was building the suit by hand. There were points where Tony was frustrated because he could so easily just snap his fingers and fix the problem he was facing, but his more scientific side (his human side) chafed at this because there was always a solution.

And there was. Sometimes it took a bit longer to work it out by hand and without Grace, but he did find it.

And when the Mark II was finally finished, he immediately took it out for a spin. It could fly. That was one of the first things he'd added onto it. He could fly by himself, but it wasn't like humans could comprehend his wings, and he wasn't going to confine himself to the ground if he could help it. So the first time he took the suit out, it was simultaneously exhilarating and confining. Exhilarating because he'd never flown like this before, and confining because he was effectively in a full-body suit that didn't allow him any freedom of movement beyond that which he had designed.

When he came back from the test flight (after icing the suit because he'd been too impatient), he put together the Mark III in a matter of hours, going for bright flashy colors because he was Tony Stark and he was Gabriel, and they were both showy personalities.

Tony was pretty much ready to go after weapons caches now. The only thing he had left to do was find them.

Following a perfunctory appearance he put in at a gala and another run-in with Christine Everhart, Tony had the location of one place: Gulmira. He slipped out of the party, leaving behind a copy of himself to carry on in his absence.

Dean Winchester would probably shit himself if he knew how responsible Gabriel was being now.

But well…the thing was that like it or not, he lived here now. He couldn't find a way back home, so he was stuck in this place with no angels, monsters, or magic (aside from the few sorcerers he'd seen around, like that Strange guy). And if Gabriel was living here now, then he would do his damn best to protect this place, starting with mopping up the mess he'd made while he was an ignorant human.

It was cringe-inducing seeing the similarities between Tony Stark and Gabriel pre-Dean Winchester, and Gabriel was tired of being on the sidelines. He might've gotten killed last time he made a stand, but it wasn't like this world had the capabilities of holding an archangel or even killing one (aside from the holy oil, but it wasn't like anyone knew enough to set it on fire). After all, he wasn't telling the humans squat about what to do when it came to warding him off.

His self-imposed mission in hand, Tony suited up and flew over the ocean rather than use his wings. Though the suit could easily break the sound barrier, it wasn't anywhere near as fast for his liking. But any faster would have to wait until he could get his hands on the technology needed (or make it himself).

Gulmira was a relatively quick mission compared to what Tony had done before. The only thing that was slightly troubling was how the American Air Force suddenly decided he needed to be taken down for being a rogue flyer in their space. It took some fancy flying, but the moment he was out of sight he stretched his wings out and flew, reappearing in the skies above the ocean a second later.

The pilots would undoubtedly be scratching their heads as to how he'd disappeared so quickly, but it wasn't like it mattered. He'd done what he set out to do; all he needed to do now was fly home and decide where to go next.

JARVIS would enjoy the job.

So now that you guys know what exactly is going on here, I'm going to explain what I'm doing with the names for the rest of the story, because Gabriel is Tony and Tony is Gabriel. When Gabriel is acting primarily as Tony, that's what he's going to be called. When Gabriel comes more to the forefront - that is, his memories and his personality traits - he'll be referred to as Gabriel. It's going to be that way for the rest of the story. Sometimes there'll be a Gabriel thrown in the narrative when before it had only been Tony, but that's because something happened that Gabriel comes more to the forefront rather than Tony.

Chapter 2 will be up next Friday.