Disclaimer: Nothing Supernatural belongs to me, just my character Angel and bits of the plot.
...
"It was another dead end. We're back," Angel announced Friday afternoon as she popped into the kitchen. Cas, appearing in the living room, was left to relate the details of their pointless three-day journey while Angel got into the theoretically-nonexistent stash of liquor in the back of the baking cabinet. Cas's version of the details wasn't must more than Angel's conclusion—there was nothing new to report. They weren't any closer to finding the rampaging pagan goddess and they had no concrete evidence that they'd even been on her trail.
"Anyway, there's not much to do here and Crowley might have picked some information up for us, so I'm just going to take this and go. Good job hiding it this time, by the way. You're getting better, Bobby," Angel remarked as she headed toward the living room. She waited for a protest before shrugging and popping out of the room, unconcerned that no one but Bobby seemed to notice her. Cas sat down and allowed the others to involve him in the work they were already doing.
Angel, on the other hand, went to a little flat in southern Germany to meet Raphael. If her brother tried to find her, he would find indications of her presence at Crowley's main flat with no evidence of her falsehood. She didn't worry about Crowley betraying her, but she did worry about Raphael nuking the place, so to speak, instead of attending their planned meeting. He'd been increasingly irritated with her demands and, in his opinion, lack of pay. He'd told her it was unreasonable that she demanded payment before she trapped the hunters, but she knew better. He was whining because he didn't intend to pay her at all and she wasn't going to help otherwise. She knew something of Archangels.
It wasn't much of a surprise to her, then, when he showed up an hour late with little in the way of encouragement.
"Y'know, sugar, you aren't very good at working miracles for a fucking Archangel," Angel sighed, irritated with the pointless work they'd done so far and the lack of hope for future results.
"Hold your tongue if you can't say anything helpful. It isn't easy to track down God," Raphael snapped. Angel rolled her eyes.
"Humans seem to find him everywhere," she sneered. "Maybe you just aren't stupid enough to do it, lover."
"And what would that say about you—knowing you're too stupid to find him but trying anyway?" Raphael countered.
"It says maybe I want to prove I'm not as much of a stupid ass as you are. Is there anything else for us to discuss here or can I go? I'd rather be arguing with those idiotic hunters than with you. At least they're more fun," Angel grumbled.
"I told you I'll have the information by next month. We need to start planning your part now," Raphael pointed out. Angel made a face and threw herself back into her seat, her fingers curling instinctively around the neck of the liquor bottle already placed there.
"All right, what exactly are you planning on having me do?" she asked reluctantly. Raphael sat on the other end of the couch, an unusual move. He hardly ever mimicked human behavior so far as to sit down.
"You're going to bring them to a little surprise I have prepared. I'll send you the address tomorrow after I decide which of the finalists would be best suited to my purposes. What you will do is convince them that you've found something on Baduhenna—some way to enslave her or kill her, whatever you want—and then you will inform them that they must go there immediately. Transport them to the location and get them inside. I'll have a trap waiting to ensure they don't escape. After that, you can stay around and watch the proceedings. I haven't decided yet how much more involvement I'll require of you," he explained.
"Details aren't your strong suit, are they?" she replied wryly, taking a drink. Already irritated with her, Raphael proceeded to instead give her a detailed description of everything up until the setting of the final traps. "Fuck off, that's too many details. You aren't good at this."
"It would be easier if I was using an angel that still had some semblance of a connection to heaven. Communication was much easier there," he pointed out.
"Oh, fuck off for real now, lover. No angel from heaven would go along with something as stupid and petty as this if they knew your motivations," she answered.
"Angels don't question the word of the Archangel in command. You know that better than anyone, I would say, don't you?"
"Bastard," Angel muttered, glaring at him as she lifted the liquor bottle to her lips once more. Raphael was a bit surprised at her lack of response, but he knew she must have felt something more and some feeling like respect began to kindle in him toward her. She may have been the refuse of the universe, but she never let anybody make her feel it. "Can I go now or do you need to bore me with the location of every atom in a ten mile radius of this perfect plan?"
"You may leave. Be ready to act on my signal. I'll send it as soon as I have God's location."
"Just don't try to lie about it. I'll know as soon as I see you—Archangel or not. You can't lie to someone suckled on deceit."
...
"You have the Colt on you at all times now, don't you, lover?" Angel asked pointedly as she popped into Crowley's home bar.
"Yes, I keep it with me. Why?" Crowley asked, getting another glass of the shelf for her.
"It'll be soon and I'll need you there. Raphael may try to kill me along with the others, but I've downplayed my involvement with you and I don't think he'll take precautions against a demon. Are you still on my side?"
"I told you once it would be suicidal to choose another and I stand by that. I'm not eager to die—again, I should say."
"I knew you were smarter than Daddy gave you credit for, ducks," Angel remarked. Her grin faded and changed to a look almost of concern. "You still cringe when I say that. Is it the bad memories?"
"No, it's that you still give him power over you. You said you wouldn't return to Hell unless everyone knew it was by your own power and you'll never be able to if you keep calling him that. That's what he trained you to do, to submit to him. You can't still do that and prove yourself."
"I never said I wanted to return to Hell, though. Bad memories, you know."
"What would they matter if you made good ones? You could rule Hell as a better god than Lucifer ever was because you don't love God."
"Don't tempt me with such notions. I prefer other temptations."
"Yes, I'm aware of that."
"I nicked a bottle of decent bourbon from Balthazar on my way over here if you want to try it."
"Isn't he on the other side of the world?"
"Well, yes, but I can't make him feel neglected. He's part of my game plan too. Although his part isn't as important as yours, of course."
"Of course not. You do know flattery won't get you anywhere, don't you?"
"Oh, yes, but it puts you in such a better mood and you're so very attentive when you're in a good mood."
"As long as the intention is your satisfaction."
"Oh, hush, lover. You know you're more than satisfied before I leave. It just amuses me to bring up Balthazar because you get that hateful light in your eyes and I know it means more fun for us both."
"Speaking of fun, what are you going to do after Moose, Squirrel & co are gone? I don't imagine you'll stick with Raphael long."
"That's not public information yet. I can't tell you all my secrets."
"Even though I, an immortal being, live in mortal fear of you?"
"Yes, even so, sugar. I think flattery like that might get you somewhere."
"Flattery or mental images of my brutal torture?"
"There's little difference to me, lover, and you know it. Besides, haven't I taught you that pleasure and pain are just two sides of the same coin? If one controls the coin, one can use both interchangeably to achieve an amplified result."
"So you've said."
"Was that an invitation to prove it, ducks?"
"Only if the result is positive."
...
Angel knew before Raphael sent his message when it would happen. She could feel it—the excitement of an Archangel—even from the distance. Accordingly, she's already made her plans. Balthazar was in the house; Crowley was on call. She was as prepared as she could hope to be. So it was that, when Raphael sent the signal, she already had her Angel blade hidden in her boot. A quick slide down the stairs and she had everyone's attention.
"Crowley's found her—for sure. We've got Baduhenna, but we've got to hurry before she gets out," Angel announced once she hit the bottom stair. It was a testament to her hard work that everyone jumped into motion without hesitation. She knew they didn't trust her fully, but they trusted her enough to gather. As per her previous arrangement, Balthazar lent her his power to transport the group to the location before he left. They were in a parking lot, outside what appeared to be an old factory. "We should be careful getting inside. Crowley said it might be tricky."
"He's certain she's still here?" Dean asked, slightly reluctant. Angel nodded and started toward a broken window around the side.
"This is where he said he got it. Don't screw up following me, lovers," she warned before slipping into the building. They followed her quietly as she led them through a maze of hallways to the main factory room. Before stepping into the room, Angel stood back by the door to show everyone into the room, thereby avoiding the holy fire circle that suddenly sparked to trap the others. They turned to look at her immediately. "I told you not to trust me, ducks."
"She's good at betrayal," Raphael informed loudly from the other side of the room. They spun around, surprise marking their features. An angel blade appeared in Cas's hand, everyone else quietly inching toward their own. "Join me, sister, so I know you aren't planning something against me as well."
"I'm 'sister' today, am I?" she asked as she leisurely made her way around the room to the front. "I'll stay back here while you finish your business with them, lover, unless you want to give me that address now."
"I'll tell you Father's location as soon as I'm finished," Raphael assured her. She jumped up to a crate and sat down, legs and arms crossed impatiently. The dirty looks she was getting passed as she got out her phone, signaling she wouldn't be involved further, and attention centered on the Archangel that was likely to kill them.
Raphael stood well-outside the circle, preparing for his speech. Something about them made him want to go on a rant—to explain his motive—to let some other sentient being understand what he was feeling without them ever being able to use it against him. He didn't intend anyone in the building to leave—not his enemies or the spies he'd used. Even though Angel had been too cautious to enter the room until the holy fire circle was up, Raphael wasn't worried. He would kill her, the same as the others, but they were first. She was spiteful enough to free them with the last of her existence if he killed her now.
The hunters were giving each other looks, trying to determine what to do, but Cas did not look away from his brother. Cas looked angry, defiant—one could almost see how Angel was connected to the other angels in his expression—determined not to let his brother be the end of him. Cas had survived and fought too much to let Raphael kill him now—Hell, he thought he'd killed Raphael once before. He knew he could do it again, if only he could get the advantage. He shifted his attention to Angel. If he could convince her to drop the circle for him, if only for a second….
When he turned his attention to her, he noticed that she wasn't alone—not entirely. Behind her, the wall was unclear, shimmering like heat from the road. When the Colt appeared in Angel's lap and the visual disturbance vanished, Cas understood. Angel had been working with Crowley.
Angel looked up and met Cas's eye, smiling.
"Close your eyes, boys," she instructed. Everyone began to turn toward her, but she was too quick. With a flick of her wrist, she aimed the gun at Raphael and pulled the trigger. When he fell and left a wingstain on the ground, she dropped the gun and stood. "I told you I wouldn't let you kill me, damn you."
"That's great, but can you let us out now?" Sam asked, his arms crossed over her chest. Angel smiled her dangerous smile.
"Let you out? Lovers, you're exactly where I intend you to remain—for the moment, at least. Raphael was having fun boring us with his speech, but you might like mine better. It's shorter," she stated.
"What are you talking about?" Dean demanded impatiently. "Let us out of here and you can tell us whatever you want back at Bobby's."
"I don't think you understand, ducks. I wasn't working with Raphael just to kill him. I'm here to kill you too," she explained. She watched them in silence as the realization hit them. "I know you're upset, darlings, but you can't be surprised, can you? I wanted to find God and nobody would help me. Somehow, Castiel and Sam and Dean Winchester keep coming back from the dead. Daddy Dearest must be involved, so I tried to stick with you long enough to get a clue to find him, but it didn't work.
"Naturally, that wasn't good enough for me, so I came up with a theory—If I took out Raphael, the last Archangel, Daddy Dearest would be forced to intervene personally if I killed you. Of course, one or two of you might be able to be brought back if God used another angel as a vessel of power, but it wouldn't work for all three. Not to mention, I'm fairly certain that—BOBBY, NO ESCAPING," Angel growled, holding out her hand toward him. He fell to the ground and the Winchesters knelt at his side, but a warning look kept Cas from interfering. "I'll kill him again if any of you manage to restart his heart."
"Why would you kill Bobby? He doesn't have anything to do with the rest of us!" Dean protested.
"I'll be weakened after I kill you as planned and Bobby could probably get the gun and kill me if he was sneaky enough or he could send for help. Obviously, I have to stay around to talk to Daddy Dearest and I can't do that if I'm dead, can I?" Angel explained lazily. "Hush now, lovers, while I tell you what I learned. Early on, I began to form a theory that time and interaction have supported fully—the three of you will only die and stay dead if you are killed at the same moment.
"Daddy Dearest isn't stupid—he set up a plan. I'm certain that he put safeguards into heavenly orders that would cause Cas to be summoned upon either of your deaths or for another angel to be summoned if Cas was unavailable or dead himself. If you're killed together, the angel will try to reach you and will be unable to do so because of the holy fire circle. Both of the humans being vessels, one could be used to revive the others if an angel couldn't enter otherwise, but that won't work if the vessels aren't useable.
"So, obviously, if I kill all three of you at once, there is no possible way that any of you can recover without the hand of Daddy Dearest himself. It will be simple to get him to talk to me once he's here—or follow him if he doesn't stay long enough. Either way, I'll get my hit in soon and that's enough for me for now," she concluded, leisurely returning to pick up the Colt. "I was hoping to make this more personal, but I don't have many options with the circle, so I'll have to injure you beyond fighting first."
Three bullets left the gun and those left standing in the circle fell. Angel smiled and put out the holy fire, sauntering over to her victims.
"You shouldn't feel this personally, lovers. You were each entertaining in your own way; I just need to get Daddy Dearest's attention," she informed them, gathering them together before kneeling nearby. "One two three and the angel blade will kill you all. But first I'd better keep myself from being trapped."
Angel returned to outside the circle and relit it, gathering another two angel blades. She let them go and directed them to hover over their helpless victims, wondering if they were even capable of last words by then. She concluded that it would be irrelevant and shot the blades into their chests. A flash of light and wingstains assured her she'd successfully killed her second brother for the day. The angel blades flashed as other angels were sent to recover the three, but Angel felt safe outside the circle with the Colt and a blade. She waited for a moment before dropping them, crossing her arms over her chest.
Had she misread the situation? Was Daddy Dearest really gone—only his orders keeping those three fools alive for so long? Or was he watching, waiting for her to give up and leave before he appeared? Angel frowned at the bodies inside the circle. She was determined not to leave—just in case. It didn't matter. She was going to speak to Daddy Dearest and harm him too if she could.
She underestimated God's plans. She thought she knew that, but she didn't realize it until she felt the bite of a blade in her abdomen. She dropped her weapons and looked at the weapon in shock, wondering what had happened. The blade disappeared from her sight and suddenly she was laying on the ground. She felt someone still behind her and looked to see who had killed her.
"Gabriel," she rasped in some surprise. Hadn't she been told Raphael was the only free and living Archangel?
"Yeah, it's me," Gabriel replied. She was dying and he didn't feel the need to hide his response. It wasn't every day that God asked a favor from his secretly-living son and Gabriel hadn't seen a way to refuse. Besides, he knew Angel had to be stopped. He'd just hoped there could be another way.
"It's cold, like Hell," Angel rasped, staring blankly across the room. "I don't want to die."
"I'm sorry," Gabriel answered—and really meant it. As the messenger Archangel, he'd taken a personal interest in teaching the youngest of heaven to communicate. He'd heard her first words and now he would hear her last.
"Fuck you, God, and everyone else. None of you are sorry. It's just Lucifer's whore, after all, and nobody stopped me from becoming this back then," Angel managed, her words starting to choke as her Grace began to glow through her ashy skin. Gabriel knew she would die any moment and that he didn't need to stay, but he remained. Angels spent so much of their time connected that it seemed unacceptable that one should die alone, even one such as she. "I'll kill you—I'll kill you all."
"No," Gabriel informed her, lifting his blade again. "You won't."
A quick slice, a flash of light, and Angel joined the dead. Gabriel sat beside her body for a moment before finishing God's instructions. He moved her body to stand and was surprised by the stain her wings left. Crooked, mangled, ever-so-small. A baby angel's wings, twisted into the shape of briars. He saw in the pain his brothers' work—Lucifer for doing it, Michael for casting her into the Cage, himself for giving her permission to go build a star with Lucifer—and his father's for letting it all happen—for letting her exist in the first place.
He'd been watching her progress, but he hadn't wanted to interfere—she saved them all when Cas got it into his head to become God, after all. He'd been impressed when she used herself and Hell's power to manufacture a false goddess to distract the hunters from their plan. She was intelligent—intuitive. He'd been impressed.
Nonetheless, Gabriel knew he'd stalled enough. A wave of his hand and the holy fire was gone, another and the blades were displaced. He shot to space before another angel could come and finish the work. He didn't want to see anyone and he certainly didn't want to hear those fools talking about the miracle that saved them. It would be too hard. Killing her had been hard enough.
"If that damned demon hadn't taken that recording," he muttered to himself as he passed through a nebula. It would've been sad without that, sure, but it would've been easy to do without hesitation or a second thought. She'd rambled about the cold of Hell and prayed for God to save her, just like he suspected she had done when she had been trapped there in the beginning. That had been bad, but, at the end, she began crying out for her brothers and his own name had been first. She had begged him to save her and it was so far too late. In a way, he supposed at least he had ended her suffering now.
His father's creation never changed. It was made of rash decisions and regret.