Wow. I didn't mean to be gone that long. Honestly, I just suck. So, I'm completely deviating from the episode plot and you probably won't see the boys again until the end. Plenty of angels, though. Maybe Crowley, though I'm not certain how he'll fit. Alright, part two.

Disclaimer: I'm surprised you people haven't forgotten about me, by now. Don't own anything but this story. The plot and maybe one or two characters. Everything else? Not mine. Now that I think about it, the plot might not be mine either…oh well.

Previously(Then)

One quick trip through the stratosphere later and he was exactly where he had started. With the addition of a sorry-looking Archangel who goes by the name of Raphael.

"Wow. Shit…"

Chapter 26: In Which A Realization Is Made

"Goddamn fucking piece of shit angel-radar! You worked five seconds ago, why not now? Hi, Raph, you weren't supposed to be here. And may I say, damn, where the hell did you get that vessel? Because she is hot, but you're kinda along for the ride so now this is…incredibly awkward. So, I'm just going to back away slowly in the hopes that there is no one behind me and oh holy Hell! Is that Manuel? I'm screwed." Manuel, in case you are wondering, was currently in what looked like a member of the Russian Bratva. The kind who were likely to shoot you and stuff you into the trunk of a car before pushing your body through the ice.

Oddly fitting, for an angel of vengeance.

Raphael raised a vindictive eyebrow and smirked. Um, okay. He didn't know when his brother had learned how to even move his facial muscles more than a millimeter, but it certainly was creepy. Especially on the Meghan Fox stripper-girl he had settled into. His brain started to rebel viciously against his eyes and more importantly…yeah, it was awkward. And he was talking. His breasts were heaving against the little bra he was wearing and it was very distracting. Raphael paused in his speech, rolled his eyes and put on a trench coat. "Are you listening now, Gabriel?" he asked condescendingly.

"I'm going to be completely and utterly honest with you. No. What were you saying?"

He sighed. "Until you learn how to put family first, I am hereby cutting you off from your grace. How about now?"

Silence. Cue verbal diarrhea.

"Wait, what! Run that by me again and while you're at it, make an Appendix complete with dictionary lookup. What do you mean, you're cutting me off from my grace? You can't even do that! Only Metatron and his choir can do that and last time I checked, you hadn't sprouted an extra pair of wings and another tongue. Why does he have two, anyways? How the hell does he manage to use both at the same time? If he has a seizure, can he choke on both of them? Can angels even have seizures? Where the hell are the other six choirs? Wait, we only have three. Raphael, why don't you sing? I'm sure you'd be good at it if you really tried. I've heard you humming and I think you're a bass-"

"Shut up, Gabriel."

The distraction had worked, though. Manuel had relaxed his guard enough that it was easy to take a swing at his head and make a break for it. And again, Gabriel went through the gauntlet and fed his little brother to the semi-dolphin. Seriously, why had he destroyed them? They were the best attack dogs since Cerberus! "I think I'll call you Lola."

He needed a better plan. Seriously.

Lola grumbled happily at the attention before swimming back to her abyss. The whole encounter with Raphael had brought him to a bit on an impasse. On the one hand, it was pretty clear that his brother was either perfectly sane and normal or a complete and utter psychopath. Though, now that he thought about it the title would probably fit him more. He liked killing, he didn't feel particularly bad when he did it and…well, that was it. Okay, so not a complete psychopath. Maybe 20%. But not like Raphael. So, his brother was possibly 47% sociopath with a few anxiety and anger issues. Close enough.

On the other hand, things were…weird. First, when had Raphael been able to lift a single eyebrow? Second, why would he take Castiel when there were a thousand better people to take? Like Sam. The uncoordinated gentle giant who had a love for asking people about their feelings. Or Dean, who had an aversion to telling Sam about said feelings. And who made fun of him for his height. Okay, so maybe just Sam, then. Why Castiel, specifically? He really had no real outcome where Castiel wasn't replaceable. It sounded terrible but it was true. Raphael didn't care if he liked the fledgling because he really didn't have a handle on human emotions. Or any emotions, really. He didn't understand the concept of love for anything but their Father, or loyalty to Michael and Heaven. It was pretty sad, really. He'd been like that in the beginning and it had been Sigyn who drew him out. She taught him how to love and then-these weren't even his own memories. He had never known Loki's wife and he had never loved anything as much as he had Father. Gabriel was at a loss.

After all these years, he was still comparable to Raphael.

So. Raphael wouldn't have taken Castiel, he would have taken someone important like Joshua or Elijah. Someone Heaven couldn't live without and would die permanently because lets face it, Castiel's one lucky little fucker. He'd already been resurrected for God's greater poker hand and it was likely that he would be again, if he died. Hell, Gabriel could bring him back if needed! Why Cas?

The answer almost made him smack himself. Fuck. His wings. Castiel's wings were as plain as any soldier's but they had one thing different. The Enochian runes covering them were ancient. Like, ancient ancient. So ancient, he didn't have the slightest clue what they were for. Samiel might have but that was because he was one of the eldest. There really did used to be six choirs; half were dead and gone, never coming back, pushing up daisies. Take your pick. Problem was, not a soul knew where the old boy had gone. He hadn't died like the rest of the choirs during the Leviathans; Gabriel would know. Samiel had dragged himself and the third choir back to Heaven, all alone, to stand before God and recite their losses. That had been Gabriel's job, as the messenger. To tell all of the fledglings that their guardians were never coming back, tell their father that some of His most gorgeous creations had been destroyed, ripped apart and eaten like a Slurpee. Gabriel concluded that life had sucked, back then. Still kinda did, actually. Samiel's runes had changed and he had disappeared. Which sucked even more.

He was starting to wonder if this was some kind of trend.

Maybe they were like his and Michael's wings. The runes were coordinates and stories of monsters that had been locked deep beneath the ground for the sake of the earth and all that inhabited it. Some were names of siblings that had been cast down in disgrace after judgment, though Gabriel was less decorated in that than Michael. Others still were markers for sins that they had committed. Michael was all but free of those. Gabriel imagined that they cluttered themselves in ugly little patterns over his feathers, reminding him that he can never forget what he had done. What did Castiel's hide?

He didn't give a rat's ass about what they meant. He had the attention span of a gnat and there was currently a shimmering butterfly fluttering adoringly in his face. He watched it go past him in bewilderment. He was still underwater. Looks like those sea butterflies of Lucifer's are still going strong. Back to Castiel's wings. What-the-hell ever they released wouldn't be good for anyone, so why was Raphael going to?

Unless he wanted to give the world a do-over. Which was a terrible plan, because it basically involved blowing up good ol' Terra Firma and replacing it with a ball of cooling lava that would over thousands of years develop into one big ocean full of volcanoes. Which would make continents. Blah, blah, blah, evolution, fish meets land and voila! You get the deformed creature from the black lagoon. But it wasn't as simple as that. The saying 'life finds a way' is taken way too literally. Everything resets. Time, space, Lindsay Lohan's rehab... In the end, nothing's really changed except how much time and effort has been put into creating the same damned thing. And how much you just pissed of the creator of all living things, God. Yes he had experience and yes, it was an accident. He had just wanted to play with the lave, honest! And that was how he discovered how much he could not control rock, no mater how liquid it looks. Trial and error was a way of life, not for use on ridiculous Math problems. So, three earths later and he had been grounded up until Marie popped. Oh, happy day.

So, the do-over was probably out. In which case left the location to the entrance of Purgatory, which he hoped to all that was Holy(including himself) was not in any way, shape or form on the wings of an impressionable fledgling. Blinking hazily in the water, he looked far, far up and stared straight at the Lord's seat with his pupiless eyes before hissing, "Oh, no you didn't!"

And not in the diva way, either.

Six wings burst from his back and propelled him skywards at an incredible speed. Blurring through the clouds, he burst unceremoniously through the gates of Heaven and gawked at the sight before him. It wasn't quite the apocalypse, but then again, it was much worse than that. There were no hordes of demons or the undead loitering around and torturing angels until their last breaths. There was no fighting, no squabbling, no sparring, no training, no off-key singing, no fledglings dancing around in their little togas on, no cherubs dancing around without their togas on and no prayers whispering through his head. There was no Michael, no Raphael or Lucifer. No garden, abyss, oasis or tree of souls. Not even the ghostly specter of Elvis still trying to leave the building. Because that was just it. Heaven wasn't there.

Okay, that's a bit of a lie. There was still a gate of gleaming gold that songs had been sung about, although there was no stairway to Heaven like Bob Dillon had wrote. Sly old bastard. He'd never been. Gabriel walked through gates that creaked as they swung open, dying plants crackling their last as they fell away in shades of brown and black. Dust whipped around his feet in tiny storms. Everything was completely deserted and it was creepier than Hell could ever hope to be. It looked like the inside of a horror movie; he was stepping on abandoned swords and shed feathers, some still soft with down. Gabriel looked around at the lack of life when a sudden shiver went down his spine. He breathed the still air and turned slowly to face Death.

The Horseman looked as alive as ever, which is to say, he may be Death but he had a wicked tan. Being in Hell would do that to you. He wasn't wearing black robes, either. Gabriel drew a sharp breathe. He was wearing God's robes. His Father's clothing. Which, come to think of it, shouldn't be as strange as the rest of all this but reminded him just a little bit too much of Little Red Riding Hood. The silvery blood covering the sleeves was a nice touch, too. A little bit much. Swallowing slowly, he murmured, "You know, I always thought you were joking when you said that you would reap God someday."

He threw back his head and laughed. Death shouldn't laugh. Death shouldn't open his mouth and show the toothless abyss of a maw that clearly lacked tonsils and a uvula. Not to mention the black pits filled with endless flames; that would dull down even the sturdiest of whore's appetite for bare backing it. Not that the theory had been tested. Truth be told, Death wasn't such a bad guy once you got past his sense of humor. Which, really, you couldn't because by then you were dead. But he had a soft spot for the fledgling who had cheated destiny a thousand times over and in exchange for a few favors, would allow him to keep his vessel alive even though the spirit was dying. After all, he had been chained to a rock with acid being dribbled into his eyes when Gabriel had found him. He kind of figured they wouldn't miss him.

So, Death wasn't a bad guy. But he wasn't good, either. Life and death are like a double bladed sword. Both sides can kill you; it's just a matter of when and if there will be a quick, merciful death or a crippling, agonizing life. Although to be fair, they had to follow the threads that fate wove for them and couldn't deviate from the godforsaken yellow brick road. Death nodded his head in Gabriel's direction and hissed croakily, "Little messenger! How did you get here, I wonder? Through death, there is no way, because that is I and I gave you no permission to leave Hela. Why do you leave your brothers? Yeeeesss, I suppose it is painful watching their torment but they locked with that insolent child. They very much deserve it, Ga'vrael."

Death went on, and on, and on. Gabriel promptly tuned him out exactly the same way he did with Michael, still staring at his Father's blood. What the fuck is this? This, this is not the way I saw it. And-hell, it still wasn't! That little shit Balthazar had sent him away, too! Into a screwy dimension with no God, enslaved angels and a strange lack of prayers floating around in his head. He internally smacked himself. Then physically smacked himself just for good measure. How did he not notice? All those little pointers, Raphael raising an eyebrow, the fact that Death had his stupid ring back, Hell, even the fact that his dove wasn't with him. Death was still blathering on. "Oh, for Michael's sake, shut up!"

He slammed the heel of his palm against the air in front of him and watched as the dimension crumbled to dust before he flew to the next one. Still in Heaven, he hid himself behind an ivory pillar and peeked sideways. His heart leapt into his throat and he struggled not to scream. There was a single nest. And in that single nest was two baby angels, each with six tiny wings. Moaning and pounding his head against the hard surface of the pillar, he stopped immediately when he heard a tiny sniffle. Poking his head back out to look, Gabriel watched a tiny Lucifer blink his eyes open and coo in confusion. When Michael didn't respond he just cooed louder.

Oh, God. His face was starting to scrunch up in an imitation of the typical 'I'm-going-to-cry-so-loudly-your-ancestors-will-he ar-it' look.

Biting his lip hard, he slowly covered his ears before the inevitable came. Which, inevitably, of course, it did. The powerful shockwaves of a baby Archangel's screams pounded through Heaven with the power of a thousand nuclear bombs. The Legion was panicking somewhere in the training fields but Michael? He just turned over. "Shit!" he breathed. Rushing forward, he took a quick moment to acknowledge that Father was going to kill him before scooping the fussy little ass into his arms. The crying was even louder at point-blank but really, what can you do? After taking a breath, he blew out a glob of water before starting to make shapes with it.

Lucifer hummed a little, pausing in his fit to reach for the water-butterfly. Gabriel grinned and turned it into a mouse, then a cat. The last one made him squeal in laughter and the water froze into a perfect sculpture of a Tabby kitten. It sort of resembled Hershey, actually. He missed that little ball of fur. Stroking the black hair away from his eyes, he stopped in his tracks when Michael began snuffling and feeling around for his brother. Oh, shit. Upon not finding him, he rolled over and veritably froze when he saw his precious baby sibling in the arms of a strange brother with six wings. Squawking an alarm and bawling for Father, he charged towards Gabriel with a sword the size of a pen.

Intimidating.

Stifling a laugh, he nonchalantly put a hand out and held him back. The frustrated cries of 'Daddy!' made his heart hurt, because he had never gotten the chance to see Michael like this. Sweet. Innocent. Not lecturing, ripping wings out of their sockets or holding his broadsword to a trainee's throat. Just a snuggly little bundle of down. Sighing and thinking, Aw, to hell with it, he scooped Michael to his chest as well. The squealing was that of a demented pig, but at least he stopped poking him with that little dagger. Lucifer cooed happily and snuggled up to the extra warmth. Gabriel was pretty sure his heart just turned to absolute mush.

Cries of alarm came from behind him. He rolled his eyes and gracefully ducked the thrown paperweight. Seraphim; they weren't the deadliest creatures in the supernatural animal kingdom. The sound of footsteps and fading shouts slowly died to silence as Lucifer realized that he just may not be in the safest possible place. Paying more attention to his big brother, his grey eyes widened when he saw Michael struggling to get away. Gabriel shushed the both of them in ancient Enoch and waited for the sword to prick the curve of his spine. He allowed himself to grin. The choirs were still alive in this dimension because there had been no Leviathans yet. The sword prickling his back was unusually cold for an angel's flaming sword so that could only mean one person.

"Turn around."

Humming in acquiescence, he blinked his golden eyes and slowly shifted to face his older brother. "Hello, Samiel."

He heard the murmurs start about his eyes, his wings and his height. The swords attached to his back were a good source of gossip, too. Samiel just looked him straight in the eyes and hissed, "Put the fledglings down, Fallen."

Gabriel was insulted. Fallen? He felt like a Fallen? Snorting irritably, he opened up his grace and caressed the souls of every living thing around him with a touch as smooth as water. Michael shivered but Lucifer preened under the attention, practically crawling up his body. The answer he was looking for came a few seconds later. The angels in the nesting sight jolted when they felt the summons of God. Samiel turned threateningly towards him and opened his mouth to speak but he was already moving with his formerly big brothers. The Legion followed, of course.

God me them halfway there, eyes glued to the fledglings in his grip. He looked resigned to smiting Gabriel until he looked into his eyes. Making a surprised sound, he shrunk himself down to his height and used his hand to push up his chin. Father stared at his bicolor eyes and just to help him out a little, Gabriel flared his six wings that were only slightly smaller than Samiel's. God sighed. "Gabriel. What are you doing here?"

God was kind of universal, when it came to dimensions. There always was one and there always would be. Difference was that they were connected. They were omnipotent that way and one always knew what was going on in another realm, what they had to watch out for. Not that they could do anything, anyways; he couldn't go against the path already carved out for his children. He couldn't stop Lucifer from falling any more than he could prevent Michael from becoming an asshole. He also didn't appreciate it much when someone else messed with his plans. Bowing his head, Gabriel intoned, "Traveling, Father. There is trouble where I come from and I don't know how to fix it."

Jesus, he sounded like a drone!

God raised a single eyebrow. "Really? It sounds more like you got lost. Balthazar tossed you into the multiverse, did he?"

Fuck. "Uh, yeah. He really has no sense of direction and I'm pretty sure this is payback for last April Fools Day." Pause. " Okay, every April Fools Day. But still, this is ridiculous! I don't even know what dimension I'm in! Is it the one wit-"

"Gabriel."

Stopping mid-rant, he turned back around and was met with the stern face. Shit. Slumping dejectedly, he muttered, "Thanks for your help, dad," before putting down the fledgling versions of his brothers and taking flight. This version of God was totally the worst. I heard that. Of course you did, you're omnipresent too! He really didn't expect an answer for that and he didn't receive one, either. The next universe that he landed in was equally fucked up. Why the hell is there always one with us as cats?

That's right. Cats. Or, more specifically, kittens. Tiny little bundles of fur that were currently snuggled up to a rather large tom cat with smooth white and gold fur. It was giving him these eyes that practically screamed 'I-can-see-into-your-soul-and-I-am-less-than-impre ssed. Either that, or 'feed-me-tuna'. It was surprisingly hard to tell on a feline. The four little bundles of fur were easily recognizable, as well. Michael was a grey kitten with a Holier-than-thou white ear and, as he soon discovered, wicked sharp teeth and claws. The kitten glared up at him with judgment practically being screamed so that the doomed souls in Hell could hear it. Not to mention the lung. Shit, that mew was damned piercing!

Lucifer wasn't exactly a surprise, either. The kitten was neatly grooming his Russian blue coat to perfection, swiping paws tenderly over his ears in the pantomime of elegance. He had the typical markings of a tuxedo cat, as well; perfect white bib, white tipped ears and paws with a single splash of white on his nose. Dark eyes looked at him coolly before the instant dismissal. Yep. That was definitely Lucifer.

Raphael. He was just…well. Raphael. Raphael kitten was currently attempting to arrange feathers in front of God-cat with limited success. He was squeaking in annoyance at a long-haired, raggedy ball of pure fluff that was eagerly pouncing on the fluffiness. There were red marks on his paws and white ones splotching his charcoal fur. He was currently hissing and spitting at what appeared to be his counterpart, Gabriel-kitten. We'll call him Fred, for the sake of not confusing the hell out of himself. Fred was just…actually, he had no idea.

It was actually pretty sad to look at, and it hurt his heart a little. He would always be the scrappy little misfit hanging around where he wasn't wanted. He had no idea who or what he was, though clearly he wasn't accepted for it. God-cat was paying no attention to the kittens; there was a contented rat under his paw that was currently receiving a bath. Lucifer-kitten huffed with resignation in his eyes and anger in his fast-beating little heart. Michael steered clear of the ugly brown thing altogether. Raphael stared. Fred? He poked, and poked, and poked until the thing turned around and took a chunk out of his leg. The little thing wailed, and then Gabriel knew that he had been wrong about Fred.

He was actually very much over-protected. And he was now pretty sure that the rat was a Leviathan.

As soon as the first blood had been shed, God-cat turned away from the little beast sadly and curled up around the kittens instead. Michael pounced on the rat with Raphael, killing it with a bite to the neck, while Lucifer rumbled and twined himself around the bawling ball of grime-covered fluff. Resting his neck on Fred's head, he started to purr while God-cat nuzzled at him. Michael was quick to swat him over the head before dragging him over gently by the scruff, risking many a hairball to come, to have his wound licked and fussed over. Raphael started to clean his fur with Lucifer, God-cat occasionally joining in. Under the grime, his coat was…unique.

Splashes of gold and amber melded with both black and white patches of tufted fur. The tiny face was wrinkled in distaste for the bath until he was presented with the long-suffering Lucifer's perfectly fluffed tail. The results were a sleeping Fred and a Lucifer that would probably be unable to move for the next several hours. The whole thing surprised him, actually. Always thought I'd be a tabby. "But I'm a calico, aren't I?"

God-cat gave him the penetrating stare and sneezed. "Gesundheit."

Sighing, he muttered, "Once more into the breach," before leaving this reality much more gently than he had the first.

Gabriel had to have gone through at least a dozen universes, each equally strange, disturbing and sweet in equal measures. There was the one where they were all girls, and Michelle was dating Dean while Lucia danced erotically with Sam. He still felt incredibly scarred by the female-him cuddled up to Crowley, of all people. Not to mention he was a kick-ass stripper in angel wings and a teeny-tiny tutu. He was pretty sure Raphael was the one pole dancing but he didn't stick around to find out where God fit in during all of this.

Then there was the one where they were human and Lucifer was apparently in the Mafia, Michael was a housewife, Raphael was still very clearly Raphael and Gabriel was an adrenaline junkie with a currently broken arm and a habit of smoking weed. When they saw him, they stared for a good five minutes before Raphael blurted out his secret weed habits to Michael as a way to blame the smoke for their shared hallucination. Never mind that he didn't precisely go away after the window was opened; he had gotten the other him into rehab, so that was okay.

Then they were into the dimension in which Michael had Fallen instead of Lucifer. That…wasn't exactly a gay ol' time so he's pretty sure it'll be left at that. The world with the Neanderthals was much better, anyways. The angels were much more lighthearted without the weight of the human's problems and grief falling onto their heads from on high. They watched and laughed at the antics of humans evolved barely past the monkeys they had sprung from. God muttered vaguely in the background, complaining that they should have chosen humans instead because they were ever so much more interesting. Gabriel opened his mouth to refute that statement and was promptly hissed at. "Go home, Gabriel!"

Yeah, well, he was trying. He was then sucked right into the middle of a dimension where Michael and Lucifer were gay. For each other. And doing it rather loudly in the center of his vision. He left that one as promptly as he had arrived.

He didn't know when, exactly, he had started singing Michael Buble, but his voice warbled, 'I wanna go home', at top volume before he got bored of it. He passed the one where God was still around, where the Horsemen still had their rings. Where Dean was Batman, of all things! And for fuck's sakes, why did Sam have to be Robin? Why not replace those little tights? Sighing, he face-palmed and remembered now why he only ever sent his Grace to other places. At least with TV land, he had a controller. After directing the Joker to kill Batman, he left the place with Commissioner Gordan- or , maybe God-an, glaring at him in disapproval.

He flew right through the one where Lucifer hadn't been put back into his cage, the one where he had stayed dead forever, where all of the Archangels had been dragged into Purgatory. Gabriel smashed like the Hulk into what felt like hundreds of other dimensions before turning up at the most normal one so far. The Winchester boys were children in his dimension. Dean quiet and haunted and Sam, bubbly and cooing as a baby. He half wanted to pick them up and run away from their fate but it was an easy move to abort from.

Gabriel closed his eyes and tilted his head back. "Alright, Dad. I get it. I get that I'm quick to judge people after they've repented for doing bad things. I know that you love me in spite of that and no one would change me for the world. I know that I shouldn't hold grudges, but it's hard, okay?" He sighed. "I went from having three older brothers to none in the span of two hundred years and then suddenly, they're back again? Not good enough. Not solid enough to believe, okay? It feels like it's going to happen all over again and my heart will be exactly where it was when I left thousands of years ago. It's easy to keep smiling, yeah, but when has anyone looked past a smile?"

There was silence, then a small puff of wind that sounded like a sigh. He carried on. "So, dad, I know you're trying to teach me to believe but it isn't going to work. I've been abandoned before, remember? What the hell kind of difference is a third going to make."

The trees groaned and a soft voice whispered in his ear, "I just wanted you to be happy, my son."

"Yeah, well, this is as happy as I'm going to get. I'm good at hiding, so no one else will never know. But knowing Raphael, he probably kidnapped Cas just so he could get me trapped up in this tangle of realms. Nice birthday wish. Cas is locked up in the White Room, isn't he?"

No response.

"Yeah. I kinda thought so."

In the span of a breath, he was back in his own dimension and staring at the shocked an worried faces of his brothers. Lucifer looked almost ashamed. "Gabriel, I'm-"

"Don't."

Gabriel silently opened the door to see Castiel's blue eyes staring at him. He hugged him, murmured a soft 'glad you're back' and disappeared upstairs.

Okay. Not how I thought it would go, but cheers to me for the word count. You didn't actually think Gabriel would let this go, did you? Abandonment goes a lot deeper than that, but we all know Gabriel is a good actor so the others are beating themselves over not noticing. Any questions, ask and I'll get to you on that. Bye!