I haven't touched this in a ridiculously long time. That is all I'm saying 'bout it.
On to the show!
"The world's ending." Tony Stark declared to the somber table, knocking back a cup of whiskey.
"We know." Bruce replied tonelessly, fingering the old soda Tony had dredged up from behind the liquor cabinet.
"Really, honest-to-God ending." Tony continued. "You know what we should do," He didn't wait for a reply. "Get roaring drunk."
"I believe that is my brother Aziraphale's belief." Castiel pitched in, drinking vodka like it was distilled water. "He stopped the other one."
"Other what?" Sam asked, reaching for a beer.
"The other apocalypse." Castiel stated without emotion. "Twenty years ago. I was there for that one as well. We were stopped by Aziraphale, a demon and a group of kids."
"Lovely." Dean didn't seem shocked to find out this wasn't the first apocalypse earth had been forced into. "Any of them still alive?"
"Aziraphale was called back to Heaven to be retrained." The angel finished off the vodka bottle and spoke without the slightest slur. Tony was jealous. "The demon has been dead for fifteen years. The children can not help us, they are just children."
"Why aren't there more angels like you and Aziraphale?" Tony whined, topping everyone's glass, save Bruce's.
"Maybe there were." Castiel answered dully. "Those who were kindest, showed mercy and compassion in the face of evil, they were killed first. Or they changed. Aziraphale has probably been changed by now. If he returns to earth after his training, he will not be the same."
There was utter silence for a second as everyone tried to drown themselves in the nearest glass, then;
"Heaven sucks." Everyone looked at Tony. The billionaire raised an eyebrow. "What? You're all thinking it."
"Heaven's not the problem." Bruce tore the tab off the soda can. "From the sound of it, the people running it are the problem."
"Whose in charge up there, anyway?" Dean grabbed a second beer.
"Raphael and Michael." Castiel replied. "They lead the last two Garrisons."
"Last two? what happened to the others?" Tony fumbled a little with his glass, spilling golden liquor across the glass table. No-one noticed.
"There was no Garrisons before Lucifer's Fall, and afterwards there were three. Alpha, Michael's Garrison, Beta, Raphael's Garrison, and Omega, Gabriel's Garrison. Omega was where the fledglings were trained until they could fight in one of the other two." The dark-haired angel knotted his fingers together in a nervous tick. If the Winchesters had been a touch more sober, they'd have been alarmed to see their stoic friend look so uncomfortable. Almost... upset.
"Couldn't they fight under Gabriel's command?" Sam asked around the lip of his beer. He was starting to feel pleasantly fuzzy.
"Gabriel did not fight. His was the last place of family and safety offered in Heaven, meant to be ripped away as soon as one could lift a sword." Castiel's voice was bitter enough to turn chocolate to ash. "Gabriel worked as a messenger between Heaven and Hell. He was cherished and hated by both sides, as he fought for neither. I believe he looked after the young demons under Lucifer's command as well."
Dean choked a little on his beer. Between hacks, he managed to sputter, "What?! He worked for the devil?!"
"No, Dean." Castiel said with utter certainty. "I don't believe Gabriel had it in him to side with either of his brothers. He had swords that he never used, armor that never saw blood, and a burning anger against Lucifer and Michael he never allowed out. Gabriel was... like Aziraphale, back then. If he lived, he'd have changed. But his nature got him killed." Castiel roughly pulled the top off a bottle of single malt and drank half of it in one gulp.
"Cas," Sam's soft voice was almost thunderous in the drunken silence that held the others. "What happened to Gabriel?"
Castiel slowly lowered the bottle. His face was stony. "Michael sent Gabriel to Hell with a message. Perhaps Lucifer didn't like it. Gabriel never returned." His gaze flickered down to the table. Castiel added, in a voice scarcely above a whisper, "Michael didn't even hold a funeral. His Garrison buried the armor he never used and called him dead without even looking for a body."
Castiel vanished with a soft whoosh of wings meeting air. He took the bottle with him.
The absolute quiet he left behind was broken suddenly by Clint entering the room. If Castiel's face had been like stone, Barton's was like ice, and his voice matched.
"Loki just took out an entire town."
Two shadowed figures crouched suspiciously in the bushes edging the moonlit lawn. Their steps were muted and soft, scurrying across open land like sure-footed deer and ducking into the shade smoothly like stones vanishing under dark, glassy water. The image of sneaky, cat-like thieves was ruined by the shorter one humming mission impossible on a loop under his breath.
They both dove for cover as a guard stalked quietly along the property border. His stark black swept casually across his employers lawn, fixing on the foliage as the faint sound of whispering met his ears.
"You want this one?"
"I believe I have the hang of it..."
"Then shoot, Kiddo! It's getting closer!"
The last thing the demon felt on earth before falling screaming into purgatory was two fingers lightly brushing his forehead.
Gabriel bounced up with a grin, clasping Loki's thin shoulder. "Good job, Kiddo! You've just preformed you're first smiting."
Loki rubbed the tips of his fingers. They tingled like he had been zapped. He turned his nose up at the collapsed vessel. "Pathetic beast." Which one? "Why are we here?"
"I need to make sure Crowley followed through with his little... Arrangement." Gabriel strolled confidently towards the massive house, mansion, really. "Really should help him relocate, too. This house is too well known to Hell, and seeing as we just killed all his guards, I probably owe him one. Wouldn't want it to be too easy for some hunters to exercise him."
They slipped silently into the house, Loki glancing about warily, Gabriel strutting with the casual air of a king in his realm. They hardly made it three feet before a door on their left burst open, revealing a very pissed off looking demon.
"GET THE HOLY HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE, YOU TWO-BIT DOUBLE-CROSSING ANGEL!" Crowley screeched, flinging a fireball the size of Loki's head at Gabriel. The archangel ducked under it with a yelp.
"Whoa, Crowley, calm down, what are you talking about?!" Gabriel squawked, diving out of the way of another fireball. Loki side-stepped out of the way and watched Gabriel beat out the fire burning on his arm with a huff of amusement.
"YOU, you feathery bastard!" Crowley stopped throwing fireballs long enough to glare at the archangel. "An angel! This whole time a bloody ang- did you kill my guards?"
"Uhhh, what's the opposite of 'no'?" Gabriel hedged.
"You did, you bugger! I should cook you in holy oil!" The king of the crossroads spat.
Something finally seemed to penetrate Gabriel's head. "Wait, did you call me an angel?"
"Payback and black mail, angel, and now I've got plenty of both." Crowley purred.
"Anger and power, demon, and I've got plenty of both." Gabriel threatened back.
There was a slow clapping in the corner. Both beings turned to face Loki, finally remembering the third party.
"Oh, don't let me interrupt." Loki said smoothly, clasping his hands. "I'm here, as the Midgardains say, just for the show."
"Smug bastard." Crowley commented, smoothing the ash off his suit. "Where'd you get him?"
"Half-price off at Walmart. Should we find somewhere more comfortable for my interrogation?" Gabriel asked without missing a beat. Crowley gestured down the hall with a slight smirk.
"Still into girly drinks? I may be able to miracle up a few. About the Winchester plan..."
Welp, that's that done. I can't tell if I like it or not! I keep swinging back and forth, it's annoying.
Oh, I spent three hours today rubbing toothpaste over my Skyrim disk in the hopes it'd fix the scratches. The Internet cheated me. Hence, Damn it, Internets!