Dean's Babysitting Hell - Chapter 9
In the next chapter: Gabriel decides that peace is overrated. He causes a . . . very revealing catastrophe in a nearby town.
I don't own Supernatural.
Chapter 9
Thunder roared from the black sky, and rain pelted against the roof of the bunker in massive drops. Dean was sitting in the library. He was working on a case with Garth, and was looking up information on wraiths. Sam had already been put to bed and Gabriel and Cas were watching TV. This was one of the few moments where things actually seemed normal. Not to mention that apart from the rain, not a sound could be heard.
Another crack of thunder shook the bunker. Dean smirked, remembering how Gabriel had told him the story about how, during his teenage years, he had started an angel rock band with Lucifer and Balthazar and had, consequently, caused the first thunderstorm. Gabriel had insisted that they were the best angel band ever created (and there had been many "remakes" of their band), while Michael had said that they played so badly that the heavens cried in distress.
"I was bored," Gabriel had said. "That is how most of my schemes start out: boredom. And I was a teenage angel, so . . . yeah, you can imagine how well that was going. I was angsty . . . rebellious – not Luci rebellious, but still pretty unruly – and I was pestering Dad about things I could do.
"Dad had just created Earth. Adam and Lilith weren't alive yet, and Eve hadn't even been thought of. That meant that Luci hadn't fallen yet. And I wanted to go play with Dad's newest toy. But he wouldn't' let me. He wouldn't let me do anything. 'Stay in Heaven, Gabriel,' he'd said. 'Wait until I call upon you to do your work,' he'd said. And I said screw that! Dad was always so cryptic and so mysterious all the time. I never did understand why he couldn't just speak plain English and tell me what he was trying to say. So I decided to take matters into my own hands.
"Most of the other angels had already been created – unfortunately, Cassie hadn't been created yet. Of course, Dad had already planned to create him. Dad always knew things like that – he knew that Castiel would same day be made, but not quite yet. Balthazar was alive, though. He was younger than me, and not quite a teenager yet . . . pre-teen really. Luci was the second eldest angel, and he loved Dad probably more than all of us, but he had this rebellious streak too. And he was always looking for new, interesting things to do.
"So when I was look for ways to piss Dad off, Balthazar . . . kind of brought drums into existence."
"Brought drums into existence?" Sam had interrupted during the first telling. "Do I even want to know what that means?"
"Well, you know how I can snap my fingers and things magically appear? Well, that's what Balthazar did. He dicked around with them for a while, then Luci found them and all was lost. Just between us: Luci was – and is – the best drummer to ever walk the earth. After Luci claimed the drums and refused to let any one touch them, Balthazar and I brainstormed. Balthazar was the musical mastermind, though. He snapped up a guitar and a bass. I learned how to play the guitar, and he got the bass . . . And that was that.
"When Dad finally found out what he did – oh, it was priceless! 'GABRIEL!' he bellowed. 'WHAT IN MY NAME HAVE YOU DONE?' I tried to tell him that it was all Balthazar, but he wouldn't listen to me. He said that he only did it because I had asked him to. He also accused me of corrupting my brothers.
"Can you imagine? Me corrupting Lucifer? It's preposterous!
"Luci had stood up to Dad and told him that we were going to play our instruments for all the angels. Dad was furious, but he didn't do anything to reprimand us. If he truly wanted to stop us, he easily could have taken our instruments away, or could have locked us away in Heaven's dungeon for the next thousand years.
"But he didn't. He let us have our concert.
"Everyone – even Michael who thought he was better than everyone else – showed up. Of course, Michael and all of our brothers and sisters were equally horrified and confused by our display. But I think that, in the end, they enjoyed it. Deep, deep, deep down in their graces, they enjoyed it.
"And, during the concert, Lucifer played so loud that his drums could be heard on Earth! And water rained from the skies, as if Heaven itself was crying from the beauty of our performance!"
"Wow, aren't you modest," Dean had muttered.
"Dean, be nice," Sam had scolded. He had just smiled at his boyfriend's tale, clearly happy to hear anything Gabriel wanted to say.
"Shortly after the concert, Dad made Adam. And . . . well, we all know what happened to Luci after Dad told him to bow before humanity. The band broke apart, and . . . that was that. After our band, other angels tried to follow in our innovative footsteps, but they were never nearly as good. However, the concerts became . . . more accepted after I left Heaven. And now, they happen all the time. Young angels throw concerts all the time – make thunderstorms and such. Just remember: none of them ever come close to us."
Dean smirked at the story. He could just see it in his head.
As the angel concert continued overhead, the bunker continued to shake. The fifth time this happened, Dean heard the pitter-patter of bare feet on the tile floor. He glanced over and saw Cas standing in the door of the library. "Cas?" Dean said in confusion.
The angel didn't answer. Instead, he ran toward the hunter and climbed into his lap. "I don't like storms, Dean," he whimpered. "They're too loud, and they scare me when they shake the bunker."
Dean sighed and closed the book he'd been studying. He pulled Cas into a tight hug and held him there. "It's okay, Cas," he murmured, kissing the side of the little angel's head. "C'mon." He got up then, and headed toward the room they shared, cradling Cas in his arms.
When they reached their room, Dean set Cas down on the bed. Another blast of thunder made the dark-haired angel whimper. Dean slipped off his shirt and pants, and climbed into bed beside his little angel. Cas huddled closer into his human's chest, and seemed to relax as Dean's warmth swirled around him. Eventually, he calmed down completely, the thunder no longer bothering him.
"Dean," Cas whispered after a while.
"Huh?" Dean said, groggily. He had just been drifting off when Cas spoke.
"My brothers and sisters are terrible musicians."
A/N: Review?
