Hey! I give you here a brief introduction to understanding this story:
The idea for this story was born purely by chance. There was no real reason for it. It just strolled into my head one day. You may say that I had a "JK Rowling Experience", if you will. But that does by no means mean that I am comparing my standard of writing to hers!
But onwards! This story is the backstory to the angels of the popular CW series 'Supernatural.' I always wondered how they were all connected "behind-the-scenes", and decided to write it myself. I also have this ultimate head-canon that Balthazar and Castiel were best friends once.
I have thought this plot out a lot, and with my fabulous beta Sarah I am hopefully going to make it through right to the very end.
This story will explain why Gabriel, Balthazar and Castiel are the way they are in Supernatural.
Why Gabriel is the trickster.
Why Balthazar is like he is.
Why Castiel has the ability to actually care.
Onto other important points:
1. As of yet, there are still some kinks which I am trying to smooth out, for example trying to make this story completely fit with what the angels talk about in Supernatural when they see each other, but there is a possibility, and I'll even stretch as far as that it's an inevitability that this story won't fit EXACTLY with the amount which SPN writers give us on the angels' backgrounds.
2. Some characters - such as Gabriel - may come across as extremely out-of-character. This is purposeful! Don't think I'm completely dumb.
3. Bear with me with this story - I know where it is going but it will take time to write each chapter, edit it, get it beta'd and post it, and I also have school exams coming up during 2012 so my writing will have to fit around those, school work, revision and other commitments!
4. Please give this story a chance. No, it's not a smut. Not at all. And I know all you randy people out there are more often than not just out to get a kick. But as I said, give it a chance. This story has a long, long way to go, and I'd love to have you along for the ride.
ALSO
5. When I make mention of a "Heavenly year" I actually haven't decided how many Earth years fit into one, and probably never will. Sorry!
But read on, and please, don't hesitate to let me know what you think. I'd love to hear your ideas on the storyline, and any questions you may have :)
PROLOGUE
In the centre of the Darkness, an empty planet lies in wait. From a distance, the planet is invisible; as though it does not exist in this vast expanse of nothingness. Yet this tiny, seemingly insignificant speck is the most important of all the celestial bodies burgeoning into existence around it. For here, on this planet so desolate, will be life.
He first, however, takes the sweltering, new-born spheres of burning gas that span across His entire universe, and gathers them in clusters in His hands. The light shining from within his palms is magnificent, and can be seen from all reaches of the cosmos. The beams cut through between His fingers, casting spectrums in all directions. From within His hands, He calls upon a multitude of stars, and lets the others fly free. Hundreds of thousands of fiery masses float amongst His fingertips, all trembling with a melodic hum. After much time, His first life explodes into existence in a great spectacle of blinding light. They are beautiful, and with them, He is pleased. He allows them to roam in the place He calls Heaven, a place with Him where they can love, praise and serve Him in joy forever. It is then that God creates living creatures to inhabit His planet which He has called Earth. The creatures grow and develop as the Earth rotates around its own star. He aids in the maturing of His life, and God asks the angels to venerate this creation – to revere and adore His humanity. The angels are obedient, and follow his orders.
It is not long, however, before one of His creations begins to question. The one named Lucifer – the shining one – who has the most power of all the angels. But the angels – not even Lucifer - arenot all-powerful. They cannot be everywhere and they do not know all things. They are merely creatures. They have all been given free will, but this one creation has risen up and is refusing to love His new children – humanity – and the arguments he begins with God and his brother Michael are never-ending. Lucifer is in fact one that He has favoured most highly out of all. But still he protests.
"Father! I can't. These humans are flawed. Murderous!"
Lucifer's heart is filled with pride. God sees his sin. He cannot hide from his sin. Appalled, He understands that He cannot coexist with the sins of pride and rebellion. Tearing open a hole in His creation, He casts Lucifer into the new, inextinguishable fires of Hell. Filled with despair and sadness, He looks upon His creations whom have remained good and loyal. Though He loves them, He feels others may rebel. Yet He does not want to destroy all that He has created. A decision is made. The archangels remain with their duties, but His angels are too unstable. They have no purpose. They are too powerful not to have a purpose. However, though the archangels remain frozen in age, his first angels begin to die out. He did not anticipate such an event. He considers that after He forges His angels from the stars, he must introduce them to Heaven as infants, allowing them to grow and develop. They must be trained and work to become true guardians, when their age will become infinite. He takes properties from His Earth, from its past, its present and its future, and combines them together with Heaven's qualities to create a place where His angels will grow. His archangels name it the Wayward House for Angelic Children.
Whilst gazing out across the ether, He sees the most beautiful star in His entire universe. He takes it in His hands, and gently moulds it into a child. Its miniature charcoal wings flutter against His palms. As He hands it to His archangel Gabriel, the child blinks at Him with huge, crystal eyes. God smiles.
"Welcome, my creation."
His voice resonates across the cosmos. The angels and the archangels stop in their duties, and the Earth grows silent. It is as though all creation apart from this tiny angel has stood still. United, it listens to the words of the Lord.
"Welcome, my Castiel."
When angels reside in Heaven, they are merely spirits - the most powerful spirits in all creation. But when angels look upon one another in Heaven, their visage mirrors one of their future vessels, which ages as the angel ages. The infant Castiel lies asleep in Gabriel's arms, his tuft of hair reminiscent of the thick, dark ash which pours from Earth's burning mountains. Landing before the Wayward House, he breathes in deeply. The first real breath since his Father had named Castiel aloud. Pausing, Gabriel casts his eyes upon the resting child in his arms and wonders.
What makes this one so special? Why did their Father name this angel, and only this angel?
He is not an archangel. He does not seem special compared to the other children in the House. But Gabriel is not one to question his Father's motives. He continues onwards, and reaches the door to have it opened by Uriel, which does not surprise him. In fact, he was expecting to arrive with the entire company of Heaven at his doorstep – what with this child having had been named by God and such.
Uriel is an Elite Angel – one of the stronger angels who were in God's first batch. The ones who survived.
His face is indecipherable.
"This is the one He calls 'Castiel'?" are the words which manage to escape his dark lips. His eyes are focused on the child. Gabriel shifts uneasily. Of course the angels are responding to this with resentment. The last time their Father had favoured one of His creation above the others, that creation had rebelled, and had had to be sent to the raging pits of Hell.
"Yes," Gabriel nods. The baby turns in his sleep, pressing his small face against Gabriel's chest. "This is Castiel."
"I do not under-"
Gabriel glares up at his brother from under thick lashes. "We do not query our Father, Uriel. You know better than that." Uriel sighs, and stares at Gabriel pointedly. "One day the reason for this will be revealed," Gabriel continues, when Uriel does not speak. Gabriel looks back down at Castiel. "But for now, we can all but watch him, and allow him to grow."
Stepping inside the House, Gabriel is greeted by the excited buzz of twinkling voices. Thundering footsteps cause the framework of the House to tremble, and suddenly Gabriel is met by dozens of sets of eyes peering at him through the banister of the grand staircase.
"That's him."
"The one Father talked about?"
"Casriel or something?"
The soft whispers make Gabriel smile.
"Come and meet your brother," he says, and slowly, the children creep down the stairs and gather around him, and the baby in his arms.
"He's rather small," muses one of them. "Smaller than any other angel baby I've seen."
"His wings are pretty."
"Shh, he's sleeping!"
"Gabriel, why did Father name him? Isn't that the archangel's job? Like you named me?" Karael speaks up and the others nod in agreement.
"I don't know," replies Gabriel truthfully. "But I'm sure we one day will. Now, to bed, all of you."
The angels grumble and yawn, but wade off towards their rooms obediently. Castiel murmurs and shifts, his face scrunching up to indicate he is about to cry. Gabriel bobs his arms to comfort him, and he settles. The door to the nursery is ajar, and a cot lies empty and waiting, and it is this cot which he slides Castiel into, and realises that the baby has woken silently. His blue eyes are round and huge. Inquisitive. Gabriel strokes a finger down his cheek.
"What is it that makes you so special, Castiel?" he asks quietly, mostly to himself. Castiel gurgles happily. Smiling, Gabriel wraps a blanket around him. Castiel's eyelids droop once more, and Gabriel waits until he has finally drifted back sleep.
That night, Gabriel is called away urgently by the Elite Angels, and his fellow archangels. The House is left abandoned by adults, with only the children asleep in their beds. A baby's cry echoes through the House, ricocheting off of the ornate mahogany panels that line the walls. One child has remained awake, unable to sleep. He has always had trouble sleeping. He hears the cry, and knows of Gabriel's absence, since he had seen the archangel leave the House when he had been staring out of his dormitory window. Quietly, he slides out of his bed and pads across the cold wood floor, reaching for the gold-plated door handle. The door creaks loudly as it opens, so he winces, worried he has woken his roommates, but when all is calm, he slips silently into the hallway. It is dark and daunting, and he feels incredibly alone. The baby cries again, and he scurries down the hallway, hovering just outside of the nursery door. Filled with curiosity, he peers around it and sees the tiny angel flailing about in his cot. The boy tip toes across the room, and clutches onto the railings of the cot, looking down upon the one He calls 'Castiel'. As Castiel blinks at him, he stops sniffling, and stretches his hands out, as though desperate to be held. The boy retreats slightly, feeling as though he really shouldn't be here. Which is true. And he really is too young to be handling little children like this one. Castiel makes a cooing noise, kicking his legs out and bouncing on his back. The boy leans closer once more and waggles his finger over the child's face, gasping slightly when Castiel wraps his hand around it, and clings on like a vice. The boy chuckles, rolling back onto his heels and up onto his toes again. He had never taken any real interest in the new angels before. Yes, they were his brothers and sisters, but there was nothing unique about them. But this baby - there is something about him. A sort of...majesty. Though so small, he gives off an air of greatness. Whilst he is pondering over this, Castiel stretches and yawns, his mouth shaping into an miniature 'o'. His attention is captured once more by the boy's finger, and he grabs it happily.
"Balthazar!" comes an angry voice from the door. It is so sudden that he accidentally finds himself wrenching his hand away a bit too hard than he should have done. Castiel whimpers before wailing at the top of his lungs. Balthazar turns in shock. Gabriel, Uriel and Zachariah are standing just inside the room. Zachariah steps closer. "What are you doing out of bed at this hour? And with the child?" The rage in his voice makes Balthazar hide himself behind his ivory wings, wrapping them over his face and allowing only his eyes to show.
"I'm sorry, Zacha-"
"Get to bed! You have deliberately disobeyed! You are in no place to think yourself better than your brothers and sisters. We all know where that leads to..." Balthazar gazes at his feet. All angel children are taught about the Rebellion. He knows the story well. Biting his lip, he hurries past Zachariah, his eyes glazed over and his eyebrows knit tightly together. He doesn't like Zachariah. He never has. Suddenly, a gentle hand is on his shoulder, and he looks up to see Gabriel walking behind him.
They continue in silence until Balthazar crawls into his bed. The other children still sleep soundly. Gabriel lifts his comforter to his chin and tucks him in. Then he sits beside him and hooks a blond curl behind his ear. Balthazar stares at the ceiling, his lower lip trembling.
"Am I...am I a bad angel, Gabriel?" he asks in an almost silent voice. Gabriel exhales with a soft laugh.
"You're quite the opposite, Balthazar."
"But Zachariah said-"
"Zachariah is...unadjusted to being around angelic children like you and your siblings. He's not the only one. All of the Elite Angels and archangels try to distance themselves from this House. They don't quite see...the point in hanging around here. After all, no one but me was ordered to be the guardian of this place."
"Do you wish you hadn't been?"
Gabriel raises an eyebrow. "Hadn't been what?"
"Ordered to be our guardian."
A moment of quiet passes.
"I would never not wish to be your guardian," Gabriel replies eventually, and completely truthfully too. Balthazar climbs into his lap, resting his cheek against Gabriel's chest. The archangel is startled for a second, before relaxing and rocking him gently. Balthazar yawns. "I will never stop being your guardian, Balthazar. When you come of age to train, and receive your Grace and join your brothers and sisters in the garrison you are assigned to, I will always be watching over you."
"I'm happy you're our guardian," Balthazar mumbles sleepily. Gabriel guesses he wasn't really listening to what Gabriel had been saying.
"And why is that?"
"You're nice. And kind. And you love. You are so different to the other angels."
Gabriel thinks about this for a second. This…is…true. He is different…isn't he? Balthazar is right. He can love. "Father must have great faith in you." Gabriel almost bursts out laughing.
"Balthazar, it is I who should - and do - have great faith in our Father. Not the other way around."
"There is a reason why Father chose you to care for us. You aren't like the other angels. I think...I think all the angel children in your charge are going to be the greatest angels there ever was, and ever will be. I like to believe that Father chose you to be the guardian because there isn't another angel who could ever be as good at it as you."
Gabriel is in awe. This boy, still so young, speaks like he has obtained his Grace already. So mature. And so understanding. Gabriel is touched by his words. A warmth spreads through his body. Balthazar is breathing heavily now, and Gabriel stands to place him back under his comforter. The boy snores softly in his sleep. Gabriel kisses his forehead lightly, checks on the others, and leaves the room with a smile on his face. The creaking door makes him pause, but safely on the other side, he closes it with a click.
He watches from the wrought iron gates as a group of his brothers and sisters disappear with the archangel Michael at their side. Balthazar knows where they are going.
Each Heavenly year, the angel children whom have come of age succumb to the training which the archangel's Michael and Raphael have set down, going by the will of God in order to mould the angels into perfect, consecrated warriors, and the mighty guardians of the human race which resides below on Earth. They are taken to be trained, and some are gone for much shorter times than others, whereas on the other hand, for those said "others", their training is indefinite, dependent on how good they are.
Those who fail their training stand solemn in the doorway to Wayward House, heads hanging in shame, and all equally inconsolable. Waiting to be collected; to watch their siblings in the Ceremony, then continue with their training once again, until they finally get it right.
The Ceremony is for the angel children who successfully complete their training. When they return from the Ceremony, they return with their heads held high, and the same expression on their faces as their brothers and sisters who have gone before them. No one can really ever quite place it. It's an expression which is almost indescribable. Though…if Balthazar really has to describe it - if he was being held against a wall with a sword at his throat, just to describe the expression - he would say vacant. Detached.
Empty.
When an angel completes his or her training, the reward they are bestowed with is the absolute ultimate reward any creature created by the Father can receive. It is what makes angels what they are. It completes their spirit. It perfects them.
It is their Grace.
For every angel ever created, there is a Grace. It is forged from the very star from which they were born. Grace is meant for the angel it is akin to, and no other. It is extremely particular.
When an angel receives their Grace, their age becomes infinite. Grace takes all of the childhood memories and the life they had, and condenses them into an intense, compact ball of light, right in the angel's heart. It does so to make room for the power that it contains, filling the angel with its holiness and magnitude. It scorches them, branding upon their very essence a mark which announces to the entire Heavenly host that they are an angel of the Lord, and that they are a guardian of the human race. It shows that they have gained their purpose. Their Grace gives them their purpose.
…No one quite knows what happens to an angel when they achieve their Grace.
Some children say that the angel they were before dies. That their Grace swallows their entire childhood whole, never to be remembered.
What Grace truly is, remains a mystery to them all.
But they do all know one thing.
That once an angel obtains their Grace, they are never the same.
Grace changes them.
The angel they once were is nowhere to be found.
It is not a question of whether the angel they were dies or not.
Because no matter what happens, once an angel gains their Grace, they are dead to all who knew them.
