A/N: I keep stealing bits of angel history from 29piecesofme's "The Book of Gabriel"*. She doesn't mind, though. ;) And thank you guest and Jaz for your reviews of chapter 3!

Chapter 4

"Being his real brother I could feel I live in his shadows, but I never have and I do not now. I live in his glow."
– Michael Morpurgo

Gabriel completed the last fold on his one-hundredth-and-eleventh paper airplane. Arching his arm back, he let it fly. It glided across the room, only to crash into the door as it opened and Lucifer stepped inside, foot crunching on a pile of downed aircraft. The Devil raised unimpressed brows at the mutilated pages torn out of books.

"I can think of something more productive for you to do," Lucifer said mildly.

Gabriel snorted. "We don't share the same taste in hobbies."

Lucifer eased the door shut behind him. "Well, that's not true. You have quite the reputation for killing humans."

"Hey, I never killed anyone who didn't deserve it."

Lucifer shrugged. "I suppose that's where our fundamental disagreement lies—I believe they all deserve it." He angled a glance over Gabriel's shoulder to where Castiel lay sleeping. "How is our little brother?"

"Resting more easily," Gabriel grudgingly replied. He couldn't help but wonder what would happen once Castiel was more recovered. Lucifer couldn't expect to keep them in this room forever.

The Devil meandered over, making Gabriel tense once more. His brother had a predatory air about him that never quite dispelled, even when he was playing nice.

Lucifer tilted his head at the lesser angel. "Curious, how he was resurrected. Didn't Raphael kill him? That's what I'd heard, anyway."

Gabriel scuffed his foot across the carpet. He'd heard that, too, but hadn't given it much thought. Mostly because it hurt to think dear old Dad had stepped in to save Castiel, but not to stop Lucifer and Michael from destroying each other. Not that Gabriel resented the younger angel for it; he just didn't understand.

"I wonder why," Lucifer mused, hand twitching as though to reach out.

Gabriel scoffed loudly. "It wasn't like Dad made him a messiah or anything. He's cut off from the Host and completely powerless now." Gabriel winced internally. Shit, in trying to divert Lucifer from thinking he could use Castiel in some way, Gabriel was making it sound as though the angel was worthless—in which case Lucifer would have no reason to keep him around. Talk about a lose-lose situation.

"Hm," Lucifer hummed thoughtfully. "For now, perhaps. However, once he's healed more, I could restore his angelic power. If he joined me."

Gabriel rolled his eyes; his brother never stopped trying. "You'll have to wait a while." He didn't clarify whether he meant for Castiel to recover or for the stubborn angel to even come close to giving in. The lesser angel had seemed pretty determined when he'd been shakily standing his ground against the Devil. Or, half-sitting his ground. Whatever.

"And how long will you wait, Gabriel? Patience was never one of your virtues."

He folded his arms across his chest. "Hah. Again, you're one to talk."

Lucifer pursed his mouth and shrugged. "You and I were always the more passionate of the four archangels. Michael and Raphael are such…" He sighed. "Sticks in the mud."

Gabriel almost laughed. 'Passionate,' right. Lucifer's nature was mercurial at best, and Gabriel was just waiting for the patience to wear thin and the cobra to strike. "Yin and Yang and all that," he said blithely.

"Come on," Lucifer groused. "You don't really want Michael running things for the rest of eternity, do you? Paradise under his rule? You'd be miserable."

"Yeah, and your version with fire, brimstone, and zombies is soo much better."

Lucifer moved away from the bed and picked up a defaced book from the end table. "It doesn't all have to be that way. You could help me shape it. Maybe keep a few patches here and there for your…human pets." He snapped his fingers in sudden inspiration. "Hey, pocket dimension zoos."

Gabriel narrowed his eyes as Lucifer grinned at him.

"Really? Nothing?" Lucifer sighed and dropped the book back on the pile. "What happened to your sense of humor, Gabriel?"

He held up his shackled wrists. "Guess it's being suppressed with the rest of my charming fireworks."

Lucifer huffed out an annoyed breath. "I let you go and you turn on me, and then I'll be forced to do something I'll regret."

Gabriel clenched a fist, hating how his brother assumed any confrontation would end favorably for Lucifer. Granted, the last one had… "Keeping me prisoner isn't exactly the way to inspire good will."

Lucifer shook his head in disbelief. "Does our history mean nothing to you?"

"Which history would that be? Stabbing me with my own blade? Or how about when one of your fights with Michael ended with me taking an archangel grenade to the face?" If it'd been any other angel hit by the ricochet that day, they would have died. As it was, Gabriel had been lucky not to have been permanently damaged.*

"You're still sore about that?"

"Um, gee, maybe just a little?" Gabriel spun away, wishing he could flap his wings and flee his infuriating brother's presence like he used to do when Michael, Raphael, or Lucifer were getting too full of themselves.

"You know I didn't want you to get hurt."

Gabriel whirled back around to face him again. "But you never even thought about the possibility of it happening anyway! To me, to one of our brothers or sisters. You never think about that, Lucifer! You've only ever thought of yourself."

Lucifer took a stormy step forward. "Who was it who tended your wounds after the battle of Darkness? Or who kept Michael off your trail after your numerous pranks?"

Gabriel shook his head, heart rending from the anguish of both cherished and tormented memories. "Yes, Lucifer, you were my brother in every sense. But then Dad created them, and your pride and resentment left no room for me or anyone else."

Lucifer didn't respond for a prolonged beat, eyes swirling dark orbs. "I see," he said in a soft voice, and started toward the door. "I'd hoped you'd see my motives are genuine here, brother." He paused with his hand on the knob. "Take Castiel, for instance. I only desire what is best for him. If you do as well, you'll encourage him to join me."

Gabriel felt a chill run through his veins, the unspoken threat left hanging in the air as Lucifer departed once more. The Devil never said it out loud, but if Castiel didn't choose the path that was 'best for him,' it'd be Lucifer doling out the 'consequences.' They needed to escape, ASAP.

Gabriel tiptoed to the door and pressed his ear against it. Steady footsteps receded down the hall before everything grew still and silent. Then he hurried back to the bed and shook Castiel roughly.

"Enough beauty sleep, kiddo, time to get up."

Castiel moaned, but then jerked awake. "Gabriel? What's wrong?"

"We're leaving." He strode to the closet where he'd found Castiel's shirt and coat had been thrown at some point. The white dress shirt was covered in blood stains on the inside front, but the trench coat would conceal most of it.

Castiel pushed himself up onto his elbows with a grunt, still blinking blearily as Gabriel tossed the clothes at him. "What happened?"

"Nothing yet, but I don't fancy waiting for Lucifer to blow a gasket before we take our leave, do you?"

Castiel gave him a doubting look, and then glanced down to finger the shirt uncertainly.

Gabriel went to the window and peered out. It was getting late, dusk approaching fast. The mansion and tall hedges cast elongated shadows across the grounds, which would provide adequate cover. He turned back to Castiel, who had yet to get dressed.

"Dammit," Gabriel cursed. "Can you even stand?"

Castiel shot him a dark glower, and scooted to the edge of the bed so he could swing his legs over. "I'll be fine." He rose shakily, but found his balance after a moment.

Gabriel waited a beat, then lifted his brows expectantly when Castiel still didn't slip his shirt on. Castiel glanced at it in his hand and frowned. Rolling his eyes, Gabriel walked back over and helped his invalid brother get his arms through the sleeves.

"Right, shoes," Gabriel muttered, noticing Castiel's socked feet. After rummaging in the closet, he found a pair of loafers he assumed belonged to Castiel's vessel. Castiel stared at the laces just as dubiously as he had the shirt, and Gabriel resigned himself to tying them himself.

"How are we going to escape?" Castiel asked when Gabriel straightened.

"Out the window. There's a trellis we'll be able to climb down." If Castiel can climb. Standing was one thing, but scaling a lattice frame was another. Gabriel didn't bring it up, though, because there was little choice in the matter.

Gabriel snatched up the rusty nail he'd been playing with earlier and slapped it in Castiel's hand. "I need you to go out on the balcony and then make a bunch of scratches on the outside glass. There are runes I can't pass." One pro to the kid's diminished angelic state was he shouldn't be vulnerable to the sigils.

Castiel hobbled to the window and fiddled with the latch until it broke. Then he shouldered his way onto the balcony. Gabriel came as close as he could, pushing against the pressure emulating from the invisible runes. With each scratch Castiel scored across the window pane, that pressure lessened. Finally, Gabriel was able to step outside. But they had a new problem, and that was finding footholds in the dying daylight.

Castiel stood bracing his palms on the ledge, overlooking the grounds. "I…I can't sense if there are demons close by."

Gabriel frowned; neither could he. But was it because his range of radar was tempered, or because there weren't any demons to sense? "Looks clear," he said, and swung one leg over the side of the railing. "Give me your hand."

Castiel shot him a constipated look, but after a moment reached out to grasp his proffered hand. He was still a little shaky, yet even with the sigiled cuffs, Gabriel possessed angelic strength and was able to support Castiel's weight as they both started making their way down. Castiel's foot slipped more than once, wrenching Gabriel's elbow when it was yanked taut. The archangel nearly lost his handhold at one point, and slammed his nose against the ivy-covered trellis. Spitting out a mouthful of leaves and several dozen curses, Gabriel readjusted his grip and considered simply jumping the rest of the way. But Cas wouldn't come out of that uninjured, so Gabriel gritted his teeth and continued their slow progress.

Their feet finally touched ground, by which time the yard had been draped in the shadow of twilight. Gabriel cocked his head to the left, indicating the direction they should go. Castiel followed with blind trust, even though Gabriel didn't actually know where they were headed. He just figured anywhere away from here was good enough.

Castiel's heavy breathing sounded infuriatingly loud in the stealth of their flight, but it wasn't like the poor kid could help it. At least their footfalls were quiet across the grass, and no unexpected demons had come leaping out of the bushes.

Gabriel had the flitting thought that they would actually make it. And then they stumbled right up to a twenty-foot barrier of ivy that they couldn't just squeeze through, because underneath was a cement wall.

"Now what?" Castiel panted.

Gabriel almost snapped at him, but reined in his temper at the last second. With his superior sight, he could see Castiel sweating despite the nightly chill. If only Gabriel could get these stupid cuffs off, then he could unfurl his wings and fly them out.

"We keep going," he said in a hushed voice. The wall had to end somewhere, and if it started leading back to the mansion, they'd try scaling it.

A howl pierced the air, curdling Gabriel's blood and making the hairs on his vessel stand on end. Castiel went rigid, eyes widening as his gaze snapped back toward the direction of the house.

Gabriel groaned. "You've got to be kidding me." Of course big brother Luci would have a hellhound as a watchdog.

"Gabriel…" Cas said nervously.

Gabriel shoved at his shoulder. "Move!"

They broke into a run, darting past an endless waterfall of creeping vines. Another howl rent through the night, and Gabriel's heart plummeted into his stomach; the beast had a scent. At least it didn't sound like a pack. Maybe they could outrun one hellhound.

Castiel stumbled, and Gabriel lashed out to grip his elbow and haul him forward. There appeared to be no end to the wall hemming in the property.

"We gotta climb!" But the first vine Gabriel snagged to pull himself off the ground snapped, and he stumbled backward. "Dammit!"

"Gabriel!"

He whirled to glance behind him at Castiel's alarmed call, adrenaline spiking through his vessel at the sight of a monstrous hellhound barreling across the grounds toward them. Red eyes gleamed in the darkness, brimstone breath chuffing out as the beast gnashed its teeth in anticipation. Gabriel instinctively reached for an angel blade that wasn't there, and for a moment it seemed as though time stopped. He was defenseless, without sword or ability to smite.

But that did not render his responsibility to his younger brother null.

Gabriel squared his shoulders against the oncoming hell beast. "Cas, climb!"

"Gabriel—"

"Just do it!" he snarled over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of Castiel's terrified expression. Gabriel didn't have time to see whether the kid obeyed, because the hellhound was upon him in the next moment.

The massive, muscular body plowed into Gabriel, knocking him backward several feet. He threw his hands up to grab at the jaws attempting to clamp over his throat. Hot, putrid breath belched across his face, almost smothering him.

"Take a breath mint, Cujo," he growled, and tried to wrench the hound to the side.

The mutt snapped its jaws viciously, saliva flinging into Gabriel's eyes and mouth. So not hygienic. With a grunt of effort, Gabriel bucked and managed to slam the hellhound down onto its side. It yelped, and then kicked its back legs in response, claws scoring searing gashes down Gabriel's chest and stomach. He threw his head back with a scream, the night briefly lit by a flare of grace burning through the wounds.

The beast jerked its head out of Gabriel's grip, and then its fangs were ripping into his arm, shattering bone. Gabriel cried out again, trying to force his grace past the binding sigils on his wrists. Pain exploded through his head and his abdomen as teeth and claws tore into borrowed flesh, down into his true form. He thought he heard Castiel shouting, and prayed the stupid kid would just run. Then the pressure in his head imploded, and the world went dark.

Castiel frantically searched for anything he could use as a weapon as his brother's screams and the hellhound's snarls punctured the night. The best he could find was a chunk of brick wall, which he scooped up and hurtled at the beast. The rock struck it square in the face, eliciting a high-pitched yelp and knocking the creature off the archangel. But Gabriel didn't get up, and Castiel's heart seized at the splotches of blood slick on the grass.

The hellhound gave itself a rough shake, and turned piercing rufous eyes on him. Steam puffed from its mouth and nostrils as the beast took a step forward, a growl rumbling deep within its throat. Castiel backed up against the ivy-covered wall, nowhere to run, no way to fight.

An aura of power rippled through the air, followed by a voice low and deadly. "Enough."

Castiel didn't think he could be more terrified as Lucifer stormed forward from the shadows, steely malice swirling in the depths of his eyes. He swept his gaze over the scene quickly before glaring at the hellhound. With a jerk of his chin, the beast whimpered and took off at a trot back toward the house. Lucifer's fuming eyes then locked onto Gabriel's prone form.

Castiel wavered, frozen in shock as Lucifer took long, hurried steps to his brother's side, dropping to his knees on the ground. Golden light lit the yard with the archangel hovering his hands over the gaping wounds.

"You stupid moron," Lucifer muttered under his breath, working quickly to slow the massive bleeding and mend flesh and muscle back together.

Castiel watched with bated breath. He dare not try to escape unnoticed, partly because he knew such action would be futile, but also because he wanted—needed—to know that Gabriel was all right. In a few moments, it didn't matter, because shadows moved around the periphery as a group of demons closed in around them, silently waiting on their master.

The light faded, yet Gabriel didn't wake. Lucifer scooped his arms underneath his limp brother, and lifted Gabriel off the ground. He shot Castiel a withering look before turning back toward the house. "Bring him," came the terse command.

The demons began to move forward, but Castiel didn't wait for them to roughly grab him. He had no intention of resisting, anyway, since he stood no chance against them, and so he began limping after Lucifer, guilt tearing at his heart. If only he'd been quicker, or stronger, he could have helped Gabriel. Now they were still captives, and Lucifer would ensure they not attempt escape again.

More demons had gathered in the foyer when they returned to the mansion, exchanging glances and whispers as the Devil personally carried in a bleeding archangel. Castiel couldn't begin to guess what they thought of such a scene, nor did it matter. He silently followed Lucifer up the stairs and to one of the bedrooms. Not the one he'd been staying in, but another with a maroon comforter and browning plants. Lucifer gently laid Gabriel on the bed. In the lamplight, Castiel could see the wounds fully, and his stomach twisted at the sight of jagged flesh and split skin still weeping blood.

"Can't…can't you heal him?"

Lucifer whirled so fast, Castiel hadn't even blinked before the archangel had him by the shirt and slammed back against the wall. Pain radiated down his spine, and Castiel clamped his teeth together to keep a whimper from escaping past his lips.

"You think hellhound wounds are easy to heal?" Lucifer seethed. "The demonic saliva is practically venomous to angels."

Castiel swallowed hard. He knew that, had seen such instances when his garrison had laid siege to Hell.

"I should rip you apart, just like he was," Lucifer uttered with lethal intent.

Castiel held his breath, even as it made his lungs burn and his vision spotty.

"This was your idea, wasn't it?" Lucifer continued. "All so you could get back to your precious Winchesters." His fist clenched tighter, and he shook Castiel hard enough to knock the back of his head against the wall.

Still, he didn't answer, thinking it safer to stay quiet under the Devil's wrath.

Lucifer leaned forward, face a breath away from Castiel's. "I thought you would be useful, Castiel. But you're determined to be a thorn in my side instead, aren't you?"

"Please," he managed to rasp. "Don't let him die."

Lucifer sneered. "Don't worry, I love my brother. But you, I think you've outlived your usefulness." He lifted his hand, two fingers extended outward. Castiel braced for the might of an archangel to blast through him, to rip him apart just as Raphael had done in Chuck Shurley's house. But when the Devil's fingers touched his forehead, Castiel was only briefly swallowed in a vortex of wind and shadow before he landed heavily in a cold, dank room, his arms chained above his head to a rod sticking out of a concrete pillar.

He tugged against them futilely, wincing as the uncomfortable position wrenched his half-healed wounds. Castiel roved his gaze over dusty crates and wine racks covered in cobwebs. A barred window near the ceiling peeked out to the night, and the muffled voices of demons walking rounds drifted down from a door at the top of some steps. So he'd been relegated to the cellar now. One step up from execution, he supposed.

A shiver wracked through Castiel's body, and he tucked his legs in toward his chest. He could only pray that Gabriel would survive, and that Lucifer wouldn't do worse to the younger archangel.