Season's greetings, everyone.
I can't begin to apologize enough. Work and health these past three months have been... demanding, for lack of a better word. The surgery in early November to fix my illness was successful, so no more ER visits or being homebound with agonizing pain (yay!), but some of the permanent aftereffects have been challenging to cope with, especially with a month and a half of wall-to-wall business travel. Hopefully I'll be able to focus more on my health and my writing now that work has hit a quiet period.
I hope this one's a good read. Thank you so much for sticking with me through all of this. :)
Castiel had never imagined that Malakhim could be so enormous.
And you say you found it on the third sphere? demanded the violet one, thrusting a hard-edged wing at Castiel. It was less like being pointed at and more like being lunged at by a small continent; Castiel skittered away from the accusing expanse in alarm. It's not right. It runs away!
If I could stand seven thousand of myself end to end and still not span half the breadth of the being shoving eir wings at me, I might run away also, the scarlet Malakh, easily the largest of the three, replied with mild disdain. Eir scarlet wings ruffled in a shrug. At any rate, I had heard much of the third sphere's beauty, so I wished to witness it myself. Instead, I found this little one braving ash and cold and fire to preserve what was left of the living things on the land and in the sea.
Castiel curled in on emself a bit at the unhappy reminder and gazed sadly at the featureless, static void surrounding them. Too much had happened, and ey had been pulled away far too early— if only ey knew how to escape this place!
From the moment of eir birth on a velvet bed of moss, ey had known the third sphere as home and as Paradise. The land shivered with verdancy, tall ferns and woody plants all clamoring for sunlight as fungi and bryophytes claimed the shade and the earth beneath their canopies. The oceans and lakes were prismatic gardens of corals, plants, and algae. Animals prowled the understory, wandered the plains, took to the skies, burrowed in the earth; some made the blistering heat of the desert their own and others filled the gardens of the lakes and seas. Some were large and some were small; some had legs, some had fins, some had wings, and still others had none of those things at all. There were scales and hides and eyes and ears, fluttering antennae and bristling spines, drifting threads full of vicious, tiny stingers and waving tentacles, soft bodies and hard plating, bones and shells… everywhere Castiel had looked, there had been something new and amazing to discover.
For many, many cycles of seasons— years, Gabriel called them during those golden days when ey and Balthazar had walked the sphere with Castiel— the world had been eir wonderland.
That had ended with the onset of the time of dying.
It had begun with volcanic eruptions, but not the typical sort involving mountains that built themselves from their own ejecta. Instead, the molten rock had poured forth and covered the land as a flood, burning and burying all in its path, and it had simply kept flowing forth. Castiel had been able to rescue many of the living things near the eruptive zone, but as years had passed, the zone had grown, and Castiel had been forced to make more and more trips to extract living things for placement elsewhere. Years more passed, and then the weather soured— the gases released by the eruption, laden with oxidized sulphur, had spread throughout the atmosphere and begun to exert an insidious, relentless cooling influence on temperatures across the sphere. An ashy haze had filled the sky, dimming the sun and exacerbating the cooling effect further still. There had been little to nothing Castiel could do when plants and then animals began to sicken and die— ey was powerful, yes, but ey was not powerful enough to stop the flow of gases or filter the ash from the air of an entire world.
The killing blow had fallen in the form of a chunk of leftover debris from the formation of the spheres— a meteor. Others had impacted in the past, devastating the areas immediately surrounding their impact sites but generally causing no larger problems. This meteor, however, had been large, nearly ten times Castiel's size, and heavy. With no ices to burn off as it approached the warm Sun, it had been virtually undetectable from the surface until it pierced the atmosphere, and by the time Castiel had understood what it was and fled the sphere's surface, it had impacted. Tremors had shaken the planet, and the floods of molten rock redoubled in the wake of the trauma; the ocean had risen up in a towering ring from the impact and drowned entire coastlines when it made landfall. A cloud of dust and debris had been thrown up so high that material crashed down entire continents away from the impact site, and the matter too lightweight to fall immediately had obscured the skies even further. It had been a grievous setback, but ey had not been deterred— ey would not let life die out without a fight.
When Castiel had been plucked from the surface by the vast, scarlet Malakh, the plants, fungi, and animals ey had rescued had been stable, but only just. At eir last count, ey had estimated that nearly eighty percent of all living things had been eradicated by the devastating chain of events.
Ey still wasn't sure if life would make it. Ey hoped it would, but the sentiment was just that and little else— hope.
Violet pulsed with distress, dragging Castiel from eir thoughts, and turned a pleading front on the third Malakh. You know what it is! ey hissed, jabbing again and drawing another flinch from Castiel.
I do, said the third, and flicked a quelling wing. Quite without warning, Castiel found emself behind the vast, scarlet Malakh, quivering with an inexplicable terror as the sight of that savagely bright wing echoed in eir mind.
Ignoring the noise of warning from the violet one, the vast, scarlet Malakh curved the smallest of eir wings around Castiel with utmost gentleness. Its span, small compared to the rest, still left Castiel utterly dwarfed in its curl. What is your name, little starry one? the vast one asked. I am Michael; the One is my strength.
Castiel didn't understand what the last part of that meant, but ey recognized the name. Michael! You are Gabriel's sibling.
Whatever response Michael may have had for Castiel was lost under the messy thunderclap of outrage that the violet one produced. This explains it all! ey cried, currents whirling and sputtering. Ey kept it! Turning on the searing one, ey fixed em with an accusing gyre. You said you would destroy it, not give it away!
I was stopped, the searing one remarked coolly, and then I was rebuked by the One. Ey is not to be harmed.
But—
But nothing, the searing one interjected. Eir old influence is gone. Moreover, the One has spoken on the matter. We are not to harm em, and that is the end of it.
The violet one was not satisfied. That does not mean we cannot restrain it, or limit it! You say its influence is gone, but I beg to differ! Did you not hear Michael's report that it has changed the course of events on the third sphere? That is hardly a 'lack of influence', as you say!
With that, Castiel came to the sudden realization that the violet one's 'it' was referring to em. I was doing my duty. Ey backed emself a little further into Michael's wing when all three enormous Malakhim focused in on em, but ey kept eir own small, equally numerous wings held with conviction. When I was born, Gabriel taught me. 'We are Malakhim, and Malakhim observe, understand, and protect all things great and small within the Universe the One created'.
The violet Malakh's splatter of dismissal was not surprising. Michael and the searing one, however, exchanged a series of subtle, thoughtful arrangements that ended with Michael gently scooping Castiel up once again.
Gabriel is correct, little one— you are a Malakh, and Malakhim have a duty to the Universe. You did what you understood your duty to be, and I am impressed by the impact of your efforts. However, Raphael also has a point— though we have our duty, we must not influence the natural unfolding of events unduly.Gripping Castiel snugly, Michael flexed eir vast wings; if the violet one protested, the sound was lost in the thunder of titanic wingbeats. I will deliver you to Zachariah, who is a teacher among us. We could use a Malakh as willing to work as you, little one, and would be glad to welcome you into the Host.
Warmed though ey was by Michael's compliments, Castiel could not help but feel conflicted. For one thing, ey vaguely recalled some sort of conversation between Gabriel and Balthazar regarding a Zachariah. Had it been a negative one? Ey remembered laughter, but it had been so early in eir life that the memory was muddled by how overwhelmed ey had been by the world. Had it been good laughter? Was it good that ey was being sent to this Zachariah?
Perhaps most importantly, the violet Malakh— Raphael, ey assumed— had been startlingly hostile toward em, and never once referred to em like another Malakh. Ey seemed to be convinced that Castiel had some greater history, too, which was bizarre in and of itself. Castiel had been born, had lived, and now had been plucked from eir home and deposited in some too-silent, too-blank place; confused though eir early memories were, ey suspected ey would remember whatever this was that Raphael had been going on about. What was this 'old influence', and what had all that talk of destruction been? Why was ey protected by the One, and why had Raphael seemed to expect the searing one to support em?
Why had Castiel been so afraid of the searing one, when ey had never encountered em before in eir life?
Unless ey could find Gabriel or escape from this place, however, Castiel could not be certain that ey would be safe from Raphael. Ey would have to play along until then.
Thank you, Michael, ey said, pulsating gratitude for Michael's protection and allowing the vast, scarlet Malakh to make of it what ey would. I would be honored, and I will do my best to learn.
… naturally, Seraphim such as myself are wise instructors and coordinators as well as fierce warriors, trusted with the guidance and direction of smaller Malakhim. I, of course, exemplify the—
For just an instant, Zachariah's six wings and ruddy Grace were gilded by a nova of reflected light; bare moments later, a deafening roar shook Haven itself with fury.
It did not matter that the words within the roar were unintelligible; even twisted with uncontrolled emotion, Castiel would recognize that voice anywhere. Gabriel! ey cried, taking off without bothering to ask Zachariah for permission. Ey had never heard such fear or anger in Gabriel's harmonics before. It was probably pointless to call— Gabriel's roar still reverberated around the Haven, all but drowning out any other sounds— but ey called nonetheless, throwing all of emself into it to the point that it felt almost like a reach—
— Cassie?!
Castiel did falter then, so startled was ey by the sudden presence of Gabriel's voice. Ey was not hearing it— all of Haven still trembled with that unending roar— yet it was crystal clear in eir consciousness and absolutely throbbing with panic. Ey grabbed onto the feeling of it and beat eir wings with renewed determination. Gabriel! What's happened? Are you hurt?!
Gabriel's roar stuttered and broke off. Where are you?! Where have you been?!
No sooner had Castiel taken in eir surroundings (still blank and featureless, to eir senses) than ey was cocooned in sunlight wings and Grace. Gabriel was shaking around em, to the point where eir coils tangled with one another in eir desperate scramble to examine every last part of Castiel's being. Gabriel, what is— Castiel tried, only putting up a token protest before opening eir wings for an insistent gyre. Gabriel? Concern cut a chill path through eir currents when Gabriel gave no indication of even hearing em. Gabriel. Tell me what's happening. You're frightening me.
The inspection was abandoned without warning, and Gabriel's shaking wings closed around Castiel with terrible gentleness. I. Cassie, you— you were gone, ey croaked, speaking fronts wrecked by emotion.
Castiel pressed eir wings along the nearest of those fronts as closely as eir individual recursions would allow. Ey barely covered any of it, never mind the rest of Gabriel (and there was a lot more of em than ey remembered there being), but it seemed to help nonetheless; the currents of Grace running wildly beneath eir wings began to calm. I am here. I am safe, ey said, aloud and through that strange connection that still quivered in eir mind. I am here.
They hung there entwined, Castiel singing and pouring comfort into eir guardian as Gabriel's currents slowly, slowly regained eir steady, placid flow, but it was slow— too slow. Ey could understand fear for eir safety, but this was a level of distress totally disproportionate to the situation. Ey had only been alone on the third sphere for some four thousand years before Michael found em, and though Haven did not enjoy seasons, the third sphere had been without them for over two thousand of those, so ey had gauged with confidence that ey had been suffering Zachariah's 'tutelage' for perhaps six thousand years, bringing their time of separation to about ten thousand total.
When arranged for significant streamlining in the flow of time, ten thousand years could be stretched to feel like a tremendously long interval— life existed in such a configuration, for instance, and Zachariah's self-congratulatory lectures had a similar effect without actually changing one's chronodynamics— but even within the scale of Castiel's lifetime, it was but a brief moment. Gabriel was considerably older, so why was ey so distraught over a moment of separation when they had been apart for as long as one or two million years in the past?
Gabriel, Castiel said gently, will you explain this fear? We have only been apart ten thousand years.
As soon as the words had left eir fronts, Castiel knew something wasn't right. Gabriel's fronts had gone still with shock even as eir currents roared back into a frenzy.That. That makes no sense, Cassie.
Castiel signaled eir confusion. What does not? Time is time, even if Zachariah's lessons stretch it beyond anything I thought possible. Ten thousand years have passed; I have tracked it.
Gabriel's currents were truly racing now, but it was not the fear of before— rather, it was something Castiel had no words for, a sense of 'something is not right' laced with 'danger' and 'someone has made this happen for a reason'. All but one of eir gyres had withdrawn, moving outward to scan their surrounds. I believe you, ey said, distracted, but… I did not search for you that long.
Ey gave Castiel no time to feel hurt at that statement. Cassie, I have been searching for over fifty million years.
Castiel stared, too shocked to respond. Ey checked the positioning of eir six major wings in time's currents and then checked eir core rhythms and loss rates against that value, but everything was as it had been for the last seven or eight thousand years. Michael could have done something in transit, perhaps, but Castiel would have known if ey had altered their positioning in the flow of time— an increase in the rate of energy loss from eir wings of that magnitude would have been impossible to miss. Finally, there were no gaps in eir memory. Gabriel, that's not possible.
A laugh left Gabriel, but there was no mirth in it. It's very possible, Cassie, and you know what?
What?
Golden wings beat with a sound like thunder around them. We are not going to be a part of this. I'm leaving, and I'm taking you with me.
Castiel offered no protest at that. Zachariah will be angry.
Even better. Never did like that guy.
Even with Gabriel furled back down into the familiar, only-slightly-larger scale that Castiel knew so well, they had understood that they would eventually be located. There were too many factors playing against them for their freedom to last, but that did not dissuade Gabriel from working hard to wring as much time as possible out of their escape. Zach'll feed you dogma until the One returns, but ey won't teach you anything useful. We need time, because there's a lot you need to learn,Gabriel had said as they'd tumbled down a bizarre tunnel of bent space beyond Haven's gate.
Both of them had left glaring trails upon leaving that tunnel, caught off-guard by the abrupt pressure of time against their wings, but Gabriel had anticipated as much and come to a workable solution. Rather than attempting to simply flee as far and fast as possible, ey had taken Castiel on a super-chronodynamic, high-speed tour of the rest of the system so looping and roundabout that even Castiel had experienced difficulty discerning where they had gone at what point. In the space of approximately half a third-sphere year, they visited every last sphere, every last moon orbiting said spheres, and even several of the rocky bodies that were too small to assume a spheroid shape. Then, once that was done, they did it again in a totally different order, and then one more time in yet another order, just to be particularly thorough.
Castiel hadn't derived quite so much enjoyment out of watching the patrols of smaller Malakhim get hopelessly lost trying to follow their trail as Gabriel had, but ey had certainly filed away the usefulness of the tactic.
Gabriel, it seemed, was positively overflowing with such strategies and ploys. Not all of the ones ey came up with worked, but the ones that did, ey repeated and refined to the point that Castiel could recreate them with a little precision and effort despite eir considerably smaller pool of available energy. For instance, a particular inscribed, two-dimensional shape charged with enough Grace could be induced to resonate, and that resonance could produce some very interesting effects. Some shapes barred Malakhim from passing; others hid objects from visibility. One even sent Malakhim within a certain radius flying away and rendered the area un-findable for a short period of time, though Castiel and Gabriel strove to avoid using that one too much- splitting up was far too risky.
Perhaps the most awe-inspiring works that Gabriel performed were the illusions— three-dimensional structures of channelled Grace that, though initially simple and intended to distract purely by way of being utterly novel, grew in both complexity and realism until Gabriel was mimicking other Malakhim with eerie verisimilitude. These, however, gained an additional use during the quiet times when their pursuers were well and truly lost.
This one is important, Cassie, Gabriel said as the image of a tiny, upright creature strode across puddles and stone to stand before Castiel. It stared up at em with its long, grasping limbs crossed over the ventral portion of its upper torso and fearlessness in its two green eyes. I don't know why yet, but ey'll travel with you in the future- the One didn't leave much doubt about that.
Castiel brought eir gyres down to the image's level for a closer examination. Its hide was bizarre, a baggy, many-layered affair that didn't match the warm, pale hue or ruddy speckles of its facial hide. Fine, dusty brown bristles sprouted from the top and sides of its head, as well as from the ridges over its eyes, and the skin surrounding its mouth opening was rosy and supple. Its legs, baggy-skinned and dull blue, ended in dark, round, flattened stubs— perhaps adapted for its upright posture?— and bowed outward somewhat at the middle joint. For all that it looked strange and wholly unsuited to survival (how did it avoid predators with such loose, graspable skin and so few spines? Was it venomous?), it also seemed sturdy and well-suited to fast, land-based movement if its long legs were any indicator. What is it?
Ey, Cassie. Ey's a thinking being, not a thing, and ey and eir kin are descendants of a particular line of creatures on the third sphere. In fact, this one's descended from the fish you very nearly smashed.
Castiel felt a flush of guilt at that. I never realized—
We rarely do, said Gabriel, gentle and patient. I had to be told.
Absently signaling understanding, Castiel tipped a gyre closer to the creature's face. Its… eir eyes are so green.
Gabriel agreed, dispelling the image. It's unusual even for that species. You'll see that, someday, I promise, but we've gotta move on for now.
Golden and starry wings beat in concert as Gabriel and Castiel lifted off from the cloudy surface of the ringed giant's largest moon. Will you show me again? Castiel queried once they were well on their way. If ey was to travel with the baggy-skinned, green-eyed creature, ey wanted to understand em.
Next time we stop, kiddo, was Gabriel's reply.
Castiel turned the memory of the image over in eir mind. I can wait, ey said, and wondered at those green, green eyes.
That wasn't one of ours, Gabriel hissed over the mental link that had never quite faded. They had learned from experience that, while the tempestuous carbon-seas of the outer cloud-giants would mask their individual hums and refract their lights past recognizability, the unnatural starts and stops of speech were all too obvious. It was the mental link or nothing.
Castiel powered eir wings through the searing, viscous fluid— staying abreast of eir guardian in the mighty currents was difficult for em, given how much smaller ey was. It had to happen at some point; the barrier-shapes were the ones we had to leave behind most often. Darting around a berg of solid carbon, ey reached out with a coil and latched on to one of Gabriel's, tugging emself in and huddling under the sheltering wing that came around to meet em. We should expect to encounter the others eventually.
Sunny grace twisted with resignation. I don't want to say you're right, but… you're right, Cassie.
It was not enjoyable to see Gabriel so defeated. With all of Gabriel's clever ruses and Castiel's developing sense of strategy, they had bought themselves nearly two hundred million years of time, enough that Gabriel had been able to pass on everything ey knew, from the Beginning through the disappearance of the thing Between and up to Castiel's birth. We accomplished all of your goals, Gabriel. Thanks to Gabriel's tutelage, Castiel knew more than a dozen resonant-shapes and their effects— something, ey suspected, that would be needed in the future. Ey knew the mechanisms of shaping mass and energy, even if ey wasn't powerful enough to do as much as Gabriel could, and ey knew the bodies of humans like the structure of eir own currents. Ey knew that ey would walk with a green-eyed human and a shining black construct of iron, silicon, and carbon, someday. They had even made a visit to the third sphere, staying just long enough for Castiel to confirm what ey had seen during their earlier fly-bys: a green and blue world full of thriving living things. There have been no failures.
Yeah, but now we're just gonna get dragged back, Gabriel grumbled. Some happy ending. A different berg of solid-carbon went spinning off with a petulant flick of a golden coil.
Castiel sighed. Then we should not get dragged back. Ey felt Gabriel preparing to protest and raised a wing to forestall em. I don't mean evade capture. That, as you have said, is an inevitability. I mean that we should return on our own terms.
You're not seriously suggesting that we just go back, Gabriel said, incredulous.
I am suggesting exactly that. You have proven that Malakhim struggle with novelty. Given the long-standing trend of escape behavior we have established, a deviation from that will be unexpected, and allow us to dictate the terms of engagement.
Gabriel looked impressed. Remind me never to get on your bad side, Cassie.
But Malakhim do not have sides, Castiel protested lightly, despite knowing full well what Gabriel's figure of speech meant. And if I did have sides, how would I know which one was the bad one?
A strange quiet came over Gabriel briefly, as if ey were listening to a voice only ey could hear, but then sorrow-tinged amusement rippled over eir currents. Oh, my little one, Gabriel laughed sadly. The rest of eir wings and gyres crowded in close, drawing Castiel as near as their structures would allow. Oh, my good, starry-winged Castiel. Someday, we'll meet as brothers, and you'll remind me what it means to have courage. You're going to be so strong, kid. You'll question, and rise, and fall, and there'll be pain, Cassie, so much pain, but you'll find your answers and your faith yourself, and then there'll be a day when you rise up again, made whole— that I know, Cassie. That I know.
Castiel wrapped eir wings around Gabriel's in an attempt to soothe away the sorrow— no, the grief— that was suddenly coruscating through all of Gabriel's furled being. Where had that mirth gone? What was this… this speech, and this mourning? I don't understand.
You will, Gabriel promised. Now— are you ready to bend Zachariah utterly out of shape?
Ey was confused and worried, but ey suspected this was one of those times when Gabriel simply couldn't answer eir questions. Ey readied eir major wings and pushed a bit of extra bravado through eir currents. Am I ready to aggravate the most self-aggrandizing Malakh in the Universe? You truly have to ask?
Consider it an invitation to imagine the possibilities, Gabriel returned with an arch twist of a front.
It was forced humor, but in the face of so much uncertainty, Castiel could not begrudge eir guardian the crutch.
This must be a big one, Balthazar mused, both sandy wings half-unfurled. Like Anael and Uriel, ey had wings and gyres trained on the distant, tight huddle of the four Chayot— Gabriel, Michael, Samael, and Raphael— and the eighteen Seraphim. They're almost never clustered like this for so long.
Do you think the One will send the Emissary? Anael wondered aloud. Her morning-blue wings shivered with anticipation. I overheard Michael and Samael, once— they said that It had been so vast that It filled all the space between the stars.
I was told that It came to them in the guise of the fifth Chayah, Uriel chimed in.
Castiel didn't have anything to offer eir chaperones; though Gabriel had spoken of the One and the Emissary, ey had never described it. Vague impressions had echoed through their connection when They were mentioned, like a sense of not-alone-ness or the memory of a single, thunderous, perfect sound, but there had been no real descriptions to go on. Those impressions, however, had been enough that Castiel knew they would be very, very aware of it if the One or Its Emissary made an appearance. They were not the sort one could miss, no matter Their guise.
Blazing-bright wings snapped outward without warning from the cluster, scattering a few Seraphim like motes of dust in their wake. I will not do it! Samael bellowed. Ey tore emself away when Michael attempted to draw em into a comforting embrace. I refuse! We are light and will and power, and they rose from mud!
Samael, it's what the One wants, Gabriel said; Castiel only heard em because of their mental link. They're creators, and they have free will. Does it really matter what they're made of, or how long they live, or how big or small they are?
Samael's response was not audible, but disgust was so plain on eir wings and fronts that it could be seen like a beacon from Castiel's vantage point. Samael's attention went between Michael and Raphael— the two were speaking to em, perhaps?— before the disgust in eir arrangement tipped with sudden violence into hatred. The One favors them, does Ey? ey sneered, whipping eir wings open to take in all of Haven. We devoted ourselves to the One as the One bade us, despite death and darkness and neglect, and now? ey thundered, loud enough that surely all of Haven could hear em. Now Ey demands our obeisance, not to Em, but to eir favorites— animals, born of and wriggling about in mud!
What? Anael asked of the others, lost. All around, the shocked whispers and cries of the rest of the Host began to fill Haven's blank expanse. What is ey talking about?
Uriel looked thunderstruck; Balthazar scoffed. That's ridiculous. The One doesn't play favorites.
Michael was saying something now, even as Gabriel's wings began to slowly, slowly shift into a defensive arrangement, tensed for violence or flight. Castiel wished ey could be there, ready to fight or flee at eir guardian's side. They're talking about the humans, ey said, to answer Anael. Thinking animals on the third sphere.
Thinking animals? Uriel said, shaken from eir silence by disdain. That isn't possible. They're mere elegant toys at most— a bunch of looped chemical reactions in carbon lumps.
Castiel restrained emself from snapping at the other Malakh. Ey did not like to hear anyone speak ill of the living things on the third sphere. It is perfectly possible— they have energy currents that run in beds anchored in matter. I was not able to determine whether it was the matter that shaped the cur—
I don't care about that, Uriel cut in. How can they have currents if they have no Grace? It simply isn't possible.
Castiel's answer was drowned out by a shockwave of sound and light that sent all four of them tumbling. It took all six of Castiel's primary wings to right emself in the gale and to help Uriel, Balthazar, and Anael, and when they could finally search for the source of the tempest, all speech was stolen by horror.
Distant and terrible, Michael and Samael were locked in combat.
None could look away from the sight of Malakh fighting Malakh— of Chayah fighting Chayah— so when Raphael swooped in on angled, violet wings to whisk Castiel away, it was far too late to react.
This is your doing, isn't it? Raphael asked, cold as the empty space around them.
Castiel said nothing.
You corrupted Gabriel, twisted em until ey was your puppet, and drove em to split the Host, didn't you?
The blue-winged Seraph Raphael had brought reached into Castiel's Grace, displacing fronts with callous disregard. Still, Castiel said nothing. Ey would not give them the satisfaction.
No matter, Raphael sighed. Your puppet has vanished, Samael is locked away, and Michael no longer cares. I cannot kill you— the One's Word is final— but I can ensure that you never cause us harm again.
The blue Seraph's reaching gyre closed around the tight, filigree helices and toroids that carried Castiel's memories.
Gabriel, forgive me, Castiel wept into the silence of the mental link.
Even when the grip turned to tearing, ey made no sound.
Castiel?
Castiel gazed dazedly upon the blue-winged Seraph hovering over em. Eir mind rang with thousands of voices that were not eir own, making it difficult to think, but ey was quite sure that nothing at all was familiar. Who are you?
For some reason, that pleased the Seraph. I am Naomi, ey said, and patted one of Castiel's two wings (two?) with a reassuring gyre. You were hurt, Castiel. Do you remember anything?
Ey tried to recall what had come before, but… Green…? ey ventured, hesitant. I remember green. Ey was still distracted by the voices, and the sight of eir two wings, and kept gazing back and forth between those and Naomi's own pale blue sets. I… what have I forgotten? What was this strange, aching space within em, like something absent? What were these voices that were never silent?
Much, Naomi said. Do you remember your rank, Castiel?
Castiel stared, uncomprehending. Rank?
What about your duties? Naomi pressed. Your mission? It was very important; surely you remember that?
Panic began to seep into eir currents as Castiel struggled to recall. I… I was…
This is troubling, Naomi murmured, just barely audible, and Castiel's panic redoubled. Castiel, you must remember— you are a Malakh. We were made by the One to obey; how can you to help us do that if you cannot remember? Six blue wings spread and propelled Naomi away. Wait here. I will have to ask Michael and Raphael how to proceed.
Michael and Raphael— those were names Castiel remembered. Ey remembered Malakhim so large they defied comprehension; more importantly, ey remembered witnessing them casting out the Lightbringer when ey failed to obey, tearing at those searing wings before locking em away forever. What would they do to Castiel, if they had so decisively cast out a Malakh of such immensity and beauty?
Eir two wings were uncooperative and clumsy as ey scrambled to waylay Naomi's flight. I can learn! ey cried, desperate. I will learn, Naomi! Teach me, and I will obey!
Naomi slowed eir flight enough that Castiel was able to catch up. I must ask for orders, ey said, hesitant, but Castiel could see that Naomi was looking em over carefully.
Let me prove myself, Castiel offered. I can earn my place within the Host, Naomi— I can be the Malakh I once was. Teach me, and I will prove it.
Naomi's examination stretched on and on.
At length, pity flickered along a blue-tinged front. I am making an extraordinary exception for you, Castiel. Do not disappoint me; I can't protect you from Michael or Raphael if you cannot keep up appearances.
I will keep up, Castiel vowed. Tell me what I must do.
Hell was deep and terrible.
Still, Castiel pressed on. Eir garrison had been charged with storming Hell and retrieving the Righteous Man, and so they would storm Hell and retrieve the Righteous Man. There was no questioning so vital a mission.
One after the other, the angels under Castiel's command were torn from the acrid air, planes lashed by reaching tentacles or gyres snagged by filthy, hooked claws. Lucifer was no doubt pleased by eir vile handiwork, twisting the souls of God's prized children into hateful mockeries of Creation, weapons that could be sent out to continue to corrupt and to destroy. It was the ultimate revenge, the deepest insult- ripping the Host from Heaven and life, warping God's Work.
Castiel banked hard to avoid something that writhed under a coat of corrosive ooze; behind em, eir last lieutenant was not so fortunate.
Ey was alone.
Ey would not fail.
Powering eir wings, Castiel poured emself into reaching deeper into Hell, outracing the wretched beings reaching and clawing for em from all sides, until finally, finally, ey saw-
- green.
There, in the depths of Hell, ey saw green, and when ey reached out, it was with an arm, a hand, and as ey clutched the battered, verdant soul, furled it deep into eir Grace against Hell's reaching claws, something strange passed through eir mind with the memory of speckled skin and green eyes.
You have been strong, ey said to the green soul without knowing why, and brought eir two wings down with all the might of eighteen. You have been strong through so much pain, and though you questioned, though you have fallen, have faith- this is the day when you will rise up again, made whole. Down eir wings beat again; demons fell away screaming in the tempest they stirred. Dean Winchester is saved, ey said, to the soul and to the Host at large. This I know.
Dean Winchester is saved.