SIX MONTHS LATER

To some, it was an eternity between the final time Prince Loki's boots clacked against the golden halls of Asgard and the first time his converse caused the wooden floors to creak as he walked into the Ninth Rock From The Sun- the best damn bar on Pluto, in the former princes humble opinion. To Loki, or Gabriel, as he had decided to be called once again, it was barely a blink.

It had been almost six months since he pretended to attempt genocide and faked his death, all in the name of a blond dumbass who had somehow managed to worm his way into Gabriel's gold plated heart. Not that he hadn't planned to fake his death anyway, but that was much more complex than he thought it would be. But no matter. His plans had remained uninhibited.

Gabriel had been in hiding for 1,000 years. No one would be searching for him anymore. He could finally make his move.

He had been plotting to take over Heaven since this vessel had been a but a babe, unable to move in any coordinated fashion. Not that he really wanted to rule, but he was an Archangel; the Angels were his family, his younger siblings. It was his job to do what was best for them, even if personally he didn't exactly fancy sitting on his ass on a golden throne and listening to the whole universe bitch all day. The Angels were suffering under Michael. He could hear their screams whenever the noises of his surrounding weren't enough to drown it out. He couldn't just leave them, but he couldn't be rash either. So, he had bided his time, he had been patient. Michael and Raphael would never know what hit them.

Gabriel sat at the bar next to a pair of barflies who were deep in a complaining session about whoever had pissed them off. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a man dressed in black assess him, no doubt surveying the gold zipper on his leather jacket, gold wing ring on the middle finger of his left hand, gold threads in his braid, and the soft white feather on the cord around his neck. The man was obviously trying to determine if the gold was real, and if he was someone worth robbing.

If that same man was robbed at gunpoint immediately after leaving the bar, losing everything and being caught and jailed by the Nova Corps later that evening by anonymous tip, well. Shit happens.

Gabriel put the red can of spray paint on the counter and turned toward the bartender with a charming smile.

"Good evening madam. I can't seem to decide tonight, what would you recommend?"

The bartender grinned flirtatiously, flipping her green hair behind her shoulders and flashing her silver irises from behind her eyelashes.

"Whiskey. Terran drink. Kind of matches your eyes."

"Bartender knows best."

She handed him a whiskey, the glass passing from a purple hand to a pale one. He thanked her, tipped her a rather large amount, and kindly declined her offer of a number. He settled in for a while, deciding to savor the whiskey for a while before moving on to continue being a trickster while waiting for the big day.

"-gotten worse, Kendra. Asgard will be ruined under his rule."

"You'd think after that bastard of an Aesir went and killed himself, he'd clean up his act, but no, he's worse then ever."

"Apparently he's trying to blame the Jotun for Loki's death. Fool. He'll kill us all if he destroys Jotunheim."

Gabriel nearly dropped his glass. What the hell was that idiot thinking?! He was supposed to be humbled, not worsened! He couldn't leave him be to destroy the universe.

He couldn't let him become Lucifer.

If that's how Thor wanted to play it, then very well.

If a martyr wouldn't work, then a ghost would do.

The big day would have to wait.

~O0O~

Steve Rogers wasn't really enjoying life at the moment. He was alone in the future, with all this ridiculous and confusing technology. SHIELD wouldn't leave him alone, breathing down his neck all the time. He couldn't seem to connect with anyone new, his trauma from the war and his ignorance of the new social norm becoming a barrier that efficiently destroyed all chances of making new connections, a new life here in this ridiculous and bizarre world that he found himself in. Not even Samandriel was answering his prayers.

Samandriel had been Steves guardian angel. He had helped him through the war, and he had provided a shoulder to cry on when Bucky fell off the train. When his plane was crashing, Samandriel had appeared to him one final time, telling him that this was not the end of him, that Heaven, and Earth, would need him one again. Next thing he knew, it was 2011, 70 years had passed, and almost everything he knew was gone.

Steve dragged his feet into the cabin SHIELD gave him to live in for a while, letting his jacket fall to the floor haphazardly, nudging the door closed with his foot. After flipping on the light, he began to slowly make his way to the kitchen with the hot chocolate mix he'd gotten from the store. It was nothing compared to his mother's, which was the best he'd ever had, but he always had hot chocolate in the winter and being frozen in ice for 70 years wasn't gonna stop him now, even when the mere thought of going outside and facing the foreign world gave him a sense of dread he'd only previously felt when his plane was crashing.

"Well, aren't you down on your luck."

Steve whirled around from the doorway the the kitchen to see a strange man on his couch that he was certain hadn't been there before. He had midnight black hair that was tied in a braid over his right shoulder with golden threads running through it. His eyes were the color of sunlight passing through a glass of whiskey. He was pale, with cheekbones that looked like they were sharp enough to kill a man. He was wearing a black leather jacket with golden zippers with a green shirt underneath, a white feather necklace, black jeans, and- what were the name of those shoes, converse?- that looked like they were made of molten gold. But it wasn't his appearance that made Steve stop in his tracks.

It was the fact that he could be felt from all the way across the room, and it was a very specific feeling that he could never forget.

The man on his couch was not a man at all, but an Angel. And by the feel of him, he was far more powerful than Samandriel had ever been.

"Oh, you were one of Samandriel's, weren't you? Well, you are correct, in broad terms, I am in fact an Angel. Samandriel may have spoken about me. Does the name Gabriel ring any bells?"

There was a supposedly dead Archangel in his living room. He was sitting on his couch.

There was an Archangel sitting on his couch.

"Woah woah woah, don't freak out! Yes, I am an Archangel, but I'm not going to hurt you. I came here to ask for your help, and if you do I'll give you what you need the most in return. Will you allow me to explain the situation?"

"Angels don't usually offer anything in return."

"I, unlike most of my siblings, am not an ungrateful piece of shit who expects you to drop everything to help me just because of who and what I am and then just leave you with the consequences. Besides, while I am indeed an Archangel, I'm also a Trickster, and we believe in just deserts. That's not always a bad thing. I also understand that you and I have very different perspectives of the universe. To me, a 85 years is nothing, but to a human, even an enhanced one, it's your life. What I'm about to ask you to do is dangerous, it will more than likely put your life at risk. If you risk your life for me, you will get something very valuable in return."

Steve, shocked at hearing an Archangel curse, managed to gather enough of himself to nod. The Archangel smiled and patted the cushion beside him in a clear invitation to sit down, which Steve was pretty sure would be considered scandalous in Heaven: their most beloved ruler lowering himself to sit next to a mere human.

When Steve sat down, he realized that the couch looked cleaner than he'd ever seen it. The Archangel- "Gabriel, cap, no need for all the formality. Any friend of Driel's is a friend of mine."- handed him a cup of what appeared to be hot chocolate. He almost spilled it when he took a cautious sip and discovered that it tasted exactly like his mother's.

"So, what's happening?"

"It'll make more sense if I start at the beginning instead of just skipping to the chapter we're on."

"Are you going to tell me the entire story of the universe?"

Gabriel gave him a deadpan look.

"Yes, Captain. You see, in the beginning there was this deadbeat dad- fuck no! For one, I wasn't even there for that part, I didn't come around until waaaaaay later, and two, if I decided to tell you the entire story of creation we'd be here for years. You think the Bible's long? That's only the cliffnotes! The badly, badly translated cliffnotes that only pertain to like 300 years of the billions of years that this universe has existed. Father there is so much wrong information in that book… but I digress. This situation is only going to make sense if i start at when and why I faked my death. It's a longer story, but you'll walk away understanding more than if i gave you the short version. Okay?"

Steve, who was quite taken aback at the tangent that has come from the very powerful being who was sitting on his couch, simply nodded dumbly.

"Great! Well, first off, contrary to popular belief, reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated, as I'm sure you can see. In reality, I've spent the past 3,000 years hiding from Michael and Raphael, who tried to kill me to gain political power until they believed they'd succeeded. After Lucifer fell and Dad never came back from the store, he made a rule that said that if we- the Archangels, that is- wanted to make a new law, all three of us would have to agree. Michael and Raphael wanted to subjugate the angels and turn them into obedient little soldier slaves, which was an idea I wasn't exactly a fan of. Eventually they sent an assassin after me so they could have complete control over Heaven. I suspect what they've done is why Samandriel hasn't answered you.

"Around 1,000 years ago I managed to give the assassin the slip and fake my death. Since then I've been biding my time to take back Heaven. Have you ever heard of Loki? The Norse god? That's me. My own private, temporary witness protection program to keep me safe while I waited for Mikey and Raphy to drop their guard. Unfortunately, before I can take back Heaven for good, I have a problem. His name's Thor, he has been my pseudo brother for the past millennium, and he has the potential to become a second Lucifer. I need to knock him down a peg. Will you help me?"

Steve stared at the Archangel on his couch. He was trying to look nonchalant, but Steve recognized the bone deep weariness. Of someone who was oh so tired but couldn't stop fighting for even a moment to catch their breath lest it cost them everything. He had seen it on the battlefield.

"What did you mean by 'What I need the most'?"

He grinned.

"Well, you'll get a whole team of new friends out of this who've all got problems of their own. You all need each other, trust the guy who used to have lunch with the fates every week. But that's not all. You want a purpose in this strange new world where nothing makes sense? You'll get it. You want somewhere to stay where SHIELD's not breathing down your neck and watching your every move? Cross it off the list. But beyond that, there's something you need even more. You would get it eventually, but, lucky for you I'm in good with the fates. They won't mind if I put it on the fast track."

"What is it?"

Gabriel tilted his head to the side, seeming to consider how much he could say.

"I'm not sure how much I can tell you without messing everything up, but I will tell you this. Your old friends? Not all of them are gone. Not all of them are ancient history. I can't tell you who is left, but I can tell you beyond a doubt that you need them. For the sake of the timeline, I can't do much for them now. But I promise you, on my honor, on my grace, on my titles as the Archangel of Fire, The Archangel of the East, The Angel of Vengeance, The Angel of Mercy, The Angel of Truth, The Angel of Life, The Messenger of God, Guardian of the All Powerful Gems of Mind and Reality, The Norse God of Mischief, and Trickster, that the moment saving them won't end the world, if you help me, I will bring them home."

Steve nodded, understanding the reason he could not be told more.

"Okay. So, you are the Archangel Gabriel, who is also apparently Loki, the Norse god of Mischief. You are in hiding from Michael and Raphael, who are trying to kill you for political gain. You are planning to take Heaven from them because they're essentially tyrants, but before you can, you have to take care of Thor, you not really brother who's about to become the second Lucifer, and if I help you do it, I will receive friends, freedom, and the premature return of someone from my past. Did I get everything?"

"Pretty much yeah."

Steve took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and let it out slowly.

"Okay, when do we start?"

"Woah there tiger, this isn't gonna happen right away. This is still months away from happening, mainly because of how much magic and Grace this is gonna take to pull off safely and how long it's gonna take to get everything ready without attracting attention. Spring at the earliest, but probably summer. You're agreement is good enough for now. Just sit back, relax, and wait for the curtain to rise. I'll give you about a week's warning before hand, as well as disclosing the final plan one it's set in stone so you won't be caught off guard by anything. If anyone else is in on it, I'll let you know who they are."

Gabriel stood up, raising his arms above him in a stretch.

"Oh, one more thing before I go. Tony Stark? He's not his father, and he doesn't want to be. He might come off like an asshole at first, but take it from the guy who's spent the last couple centuries making sure everyone gets what's coming to them. The Merchant of Death has already paid his due, even if he doesn't yet believe it."

And with that, the Archangel left, leaving only a soft whooshing of wings in his wake. Steve's jacket was now draped over a chair instead of on the floor, looking as though it were brand new. Steve's hot chocolate was still full even though he'd been drinking out of it for the entire conversation, and when he went to set it on the coffee table he saw a note written in what looked like a gold sharpie:

The cup will never get dirty and it will never break. The hot chocolate will always be full and warm, even if you put it in liquid nitrogen. Consider it a gift, a thanks for hearing me out tonight.

Gabriel

P.S: You should always remember to lock your door. I would hate for that old friend of yours to return to a gravestone because you couldn't remember such a simple thing and were killed in the middle of the night.

When Steve went for the door with the intention of doing just that, he discovered strange carvings all over the knob. He recognised a few of them, Samandriel had carved them into his shield. They were protection symbols.

And here he thought every Angel except for Samandriel was a jerk.

OOOOOOOOOO

Phil Coulson was a simple man who was an open book.

At least, that's what everyone thought.

The barista at his local Starbucks adored him; he was always an enjoyable conversation partner and he always looked on the bright side of things, making even the dreariest Monday feel like the happiest Friday.

His landlord thanked god every day for him. He payed on time, he was quiet, he never raised a fuss, and was the most benevolent man in the entire apartment complex.

His elderly neighbor thought he was a darling. He always came over every Thursday to cook for her and talk to her. He was family, and she always wore the necklace he gave her, even if she couldn't clearly make out the design on it.

His coworkers considered him the calmest one in the entire agency. Phil Coulson's calm demeanor was a fantastic counter balance to Fury's… well… furious one.

Fury himself thought he was the best agent he had. Even if he was a little quirky, doing strange things like carrying around a flask filled with ordinary water and a knife strapped to his thigh no matter where he went, even when most agents were happy with a gun. Fury personally chalked it down to paranoia of some kind, probably from his childhood. It wouldn't be surprising, considering his pillar-of-the-community father had drank too much one night and viciously attacking everyone in the household, Phil being the only survivor before dropping off the map for a decade, resurfacing at 23 and becoming a SHIELD agent soon afterward. Regardless of this, he was good at what he did, he was efficient, he was a godsend.

None of them thought that he could be hiding something from all of them.

Agent Phil Coulson was more than met the eye, and not even those he was closest too knew it in it's entirety. He dealt in more than secrets, he dealt in the supernatural.

Which is why, when he walked into his kitchen to see a mysterious dark haired man sitting at his kitchen table with a glass of whiskey in one hand and a lollipop in the other, his first thought was not, as might be expected, Who is he and how did he get in here. Well, not exactly. It was actually closer to What is it and how did it get past my wards.

The creature simply looked up at him, with a large grin on his face.

"Phil Coulson! Lovely to meet you. Don't fret, your wards are indeed intact and very effective, just not, fortunately, for me. I'd have hated to have this conversation in public. Oh, where are my manners! I'm Gabriel, also known as Loki, and I have a favor to ask you."

Pagan god. Damn, he didn't have anything in his apartment to kill a pagan. He was woefully outmatched here, his best chance was hear the being out and hope it left and gave him time to find a weapon to kill it. The pagan laughed.

"Don't worry, I'm not here to hurt you. And even if you did have something that could kill a pagan god, it wouldn't even hurt me. But I digress. I have a teensey little favor to ask. I don't want it done now, more like a couple of months in the future. And, in return, I'll tell you what really happened to your cousin Mary."

Phil's heart stopped. Mary Campbell, his cousin that was more like his sister. Mary Campbell, his childhood best friend. Mary Campbell, who dropped off the map after the mysterious death of her parents. Mary Campbell, who even SHIELD couldn't find.

"What is this favor?"

The god grinned.

"Oh, nothing too big. I'll be doing all the work here really, all you have to do is keep up the charade."

"That doesn't tell me anything."

"Right you are. Well, I can tell that you're the kind of man who appreciates thing to be put blunt and sugar free, as horrifying as the concept of sugar free anything is. So, I'll just come out and say it: I want you to fake your death."

OOOOOOOOOO

AN: Sorry for the long wait guys, I made this chapter twice as long as I usually do as an apology. Anyway, one person mentioned that I'm writing Gabriel differently this time around, and I am. In the original, I was going with the shows route of Gabriel's character development: it's all fun and games until the shit hits the fan. This time, I'm trying to include all of his character at once, so he'll be a bit more somber at times. Also, the Prologue takes place in a really bad time for Gabriel: when he's realizing the only way to save Thor from himself and the rest of the universe from the consequences is to hurt him. He'll definitely be lightening up a bit as the story goes on. The main difference between this and the original is that this will be hitting some other plot points from before the original started. It'll be a few more chapters before we're actually at that point. As I'm sure you can tell, we're actually going to be hitting the Avengers movie this time around, so you guys can see how that plays out. Also, in case you guys didn't get it, the guy Gabriel was talking to in the prologue was Enzo. If you didn't read the original, he'll be explained later. If you did, I always intended for him to be able to take a corporal form and grace the world with his very tangible sass, I just never got the opportunity to do so. Sorry again for the wait.

Reviews will be ground into sugar for Gabriel to consume at his leisure!