A/N: I'M ALIIIVE! No, really! I am! Is anybody still here? If I fall to my knees and apologize, will that make up for the terribly long time I've been gone? Okay, so here's the things. 1) Senior year of college 0.0 2) Had a wreck back in EARLY November, no one was hurt and it wasn't my fault, that didn't get resolved until Mid-DECEMBER! 3) My dad has done two different stays in the hospital, he's okay but still, it was MUCH stress 4) I was sick over Christmas and everybody knows what a weenie I am and don't ask me anything while I'm sick lol
Aaaaanywaaays, here we are with our favorite Fledglings and our all-time fave Archangel. Although, I have to say, in the course of writing this fic and others- because my brain is scary and if I don't write down everything when I think of it, I will forget forever-I have developed a special love for Michael. I kid you not, I have a word doc that's nothing but random fic scenes that were super cool that I was unwilling to risk losing to the muck in my mind. We have some familiar faces and a teensy bit more headcanon...trust me, you'll know it when you see it aaand I'll end with a brief A/N just in case ^_^
Shoutouts tooooo: Spyrofury767, monkeygirl77, PrincessMagic, BrokenPheonix, and UsedToBeSomething279! Thanks sooo much for talking to me! MUAH! Love you guys. And to everyone that has faved and followed and put up with my nonexistent upload schedule, reviews or no, you have earned sainthood.
Enjoy!
Balthazar flopped across the bed with a groan. His wings ached, his head ached, his arms ached—
"Balthazar, that's my bed," Castiel said dryly as he put away his practice sword.
"You're not using it," Balthazar grumbled.
Castiel flopped down without another word, pinning Balthazar's wing and knocking him in the head with his own.
"Alright! Fine!" Balthazar exclaimed, batting black feathers out of his face. "Let me up."
Castiel grinned and raised up just enough to let him move. Balthazar grabbed his shirt and dragged him off the bed, wrestling him to the floor. Eliyon walked in to put away his things and shook his head at his two friends.
"What have we here?"
They all stopped and turned to see Zachariah standing in the doorway with his arms crossed.
"Fighting in the barracks carries a heavy punishment," he informed them, barely containing his smirk. "Even the lenient Ezekiel can't overlook that."
"They aren't fighting," Eliyon replied coolly.
Zachariah turned to glower at him. "Did you say something, Fledgling?"
"I said, they aren't fighting," Eliyon repeated, squaring his shoulders.
Zachariah levelled a threatening finger at him. "Don't think that just because Gabriel has a soft spot for you that your defiance will be tolerated!"
Eliyon cocked his head slightly. "I would expect defiance to be punished most severely," he said. A glint appeared in his silver eyes and he sent out a small pulse of Grace. "Just as I suspect abuse of subordinates would be, as well. Even lenient Ezekiel couldn't overlook that."
"No, I certainly would not," Ezekiel landed with a rush of wind.
Castiel and Balthazar scrambled to their feet and saluted as he strode inside.
"I sincerely hope the two of you weren't fighting," Ezekiel said, but there was a spark in his eyes that told them he knew what was going on.
"No sir," Castiel replied.
"I pulled him off the bed," Balthazar confessed, trying to smooth his rumpled clothing.
"Hmmm," Ezekiel studied them closely. "I was worried I had worked you too hard today but since you still have the energy to grapple with each other, let's carry on with it in the yard, yes?"
Balthazar almost looked devastated. "Yes sir."
"Zachariah," Ezekiel turned and gave him a heavy-lidded look of warning, "I do believe you're needed at your barracks. Send Anna to me on your way out."
"Of course," Zachariah answered and strode regally from the room.
Ezekiel jerked his head toward the door and Castiel and Balthazar made their way outside.
"A moment, Eliyon," Ezekiel stopped him as he tried to follow.
Eliyon looked up apprehensively.
"I will not tolerate disrespect," Ezekiel told him severely. Then, he softened. "You did well, calling me."
Eliyon relaxed a bit. "I just didn't want him to hurt Castiel and Balthazar. They weren't fighting."
"No, they were not," Ezekiel agreed with a sigh, then he cocked an eyebrow at Eliyon. "Lenient Ezekiel, hm?"
Eliyon ducked his head. "It's what he said," he answered quietly.
"I see," Ezekiel nodded. "Since you're still wearing your gear, you can practice drills."
"Yes sir," Eliyon replied with a smart salute and made his way to the yard.
Wings fluttered behind Ezekiel and he turned to see Anna coming through the door.
"You wished to see me, sir?" she asked.
"I want you to keep an eye on Castiel and Balthazar," Ezekiel told her. "Make sure they don't get into too much trouble."
She lifted her head in understanding. "Yes sir, I'll…look after them."
He nodded, looked around the barracks with a grimace and left. Zachariah's residue would linger there for at least a week. He was glad the Angel hadn't come to his personal quarters.
The cell opened with a loud clang and Naomi stepped out, dragging a tray of odd items behind her. Gadreel's heavy breathing followed her down the corridor and the sound of weak flapping echoed off the stone as he tried to move. She frowned thoughtfully. She hadn't touched his wings.
Something to bear in mind for the future.
Thaddeus met her at the gate with an expression bordering on a leer. "So, how was the session today?"
"I'm not testing the methods yet," she said archly, "only the tools."
"And?" he pressed.
She looked down her nose at him. "I have reports to make."
"Of course," he opened the gate with a sweeping, mocking bow. "Do let me know if I can be of assistance in the future."
"Thaddeus," she somehow made his name into a slur, "my work is delicate and would not survive your heavy-handed barbarism."
With that, she strode away toward her office. When she entered, she found Michael leaning against her desk with an impatient glower.
"Michael," she sounded surprised, nervous even. "I haven't prepared a report yet. I've only just finished."
"Hm," he grunted and brandished a stack of reports from her desk, thoroughly unimpressed. "I already have one animal in that dungeon, Naomi. There isn't room for two."
Her mouth fell open and she blinked at the insult.
"You promised me results," he growled. "Thus far, all you've given me is a mutilated prisoner."
She took a breath to calm her ruffled nerves. "I confess that…I wasn't quite prepared for how resilient Gadreel has been—"
"Of course, he's resilient," Michael snapped. "Did you think he was named Sentry simply because he was Father's fifth son?"
She opened to her mouth to argue, then thought better of it. "I finally broke through."
His eyes narrowed with interest. "And?"
"I can now access the deepest areas of an Angel's Grace," she announced with a proud smile, a faint twitch of her thin lips. "Even as far as their core. Of course, that cannot be altered. However—"
"Will it work?" he demanded.
She straightened. "Yes. Once I've finished, they will obey without question."
"Good," he said grimly and stood to leave.
"Shall I continue my methods of testing?" she asked.
"No," he stopped with his hand on the door. "I want him to remember."
Michael left Naomi's office and strode through the courtyard. Once, he'd enjoyed the tranquil sight. Now, it all seemed as shallow as an illusion.
Is it because I've made it one?
A glint of gold caught his eye and he paused. Gabriel came around the bend, letting his wings drag in the flowering bushes the way he had as a Fledgling. Michael's lips twitched in a sad smile at the memory of his little brother running with petals and pollen clinging to his feathers, only to flap them in their faces, overwhelming them with the scents.
"I suppose you'll never mature out of some behaviors," he mused loud enough for Gabriel to hear.
Gabriel looked up in surprise. "It feels good on my wings," he said with a grin.
"Hm," Michael nodded. "That's what you always said."
Gabriel's smile turned sad. Then, he shook his head, dispelling the mood. "Have you seen the Flocks in training?"
"I have," Michael replied. "I haven't studied them as individuals yet."
"They look good," Gabriel said. "Eliyon, Castiel, Balthazar, they're some of the best we've had yet."
"It's a little early to make that judgement," Michael admonished mildly.
Gabriel shook his head. "If you want a good squad, don't separate those three. They already operate as smoothly as any team we have."
"Undoubtedly due to the mischief they've gotten into together," Michael commented wryly and frowned at Gabriel's blasé shrug. "That should bother you, you know."
"They're just Fledglings," Gabriel said dismissively.
"No, they're not," Michael said slowly. "They can't be. Not with this threat still present. I wish they—" he broke off suddenly as the sounds of his search squad screams slammed into his Grace.
"Michael, what's wrong?" Gabriel demanded, seeing his brother's eyes go wide.
"Stay here!" Michael commanded sternly and took flight, his wings surging with a clap of thunder.
Azazel, Asmodeus, Ramiel, Dagon. They were all screaming and one by one, they each fell silent. Michael landed with a flash of lightning, the sky boiling with his wrath. All of his lieutenants, his strongest fighters, lay strewn about, their hands still clutching their blades, their Grace brutally carved out. A lingering chill permeated the scene of the massacre and he could almost hear his brother's rumbling chime of laughter.
Michael gripped his blade and the ground cracked beneath his feet.
"I cast you down once," he seethed. "I shall do so again!"
A tendril of ice seeped into his fiery Grace. "You always were tenacious. I cautioned you against it so many times. I'm almost grieved you never listened. Almost."
"Show yourself!" Michael demanded.
"To what end? You have the advantage here. Do not worry, dear brother, we will meet and I shall have a gift for you when we do."
"You will not win this," Michael growled.
"Oh, beloved brother, I already have."
A/N: So did anybody catch the headcanon? If not, here it is. How did Naomi know how to control the angels? I mean, it's not like they would have lined up for her to carve apart and learn how they worked, right? Well, why wait for willing help when you've got a prisoner at your disposal? I'm sorry, Gadreel...I love you, I swear I do.
Oh by the way, when I said I have a special love for Michael, I do and I reeeaaallly like writing some serious whumpage for him. Yes, I am a writer of angst. Fear me.
On that note, monkeygirl77, I'm still waiting on your vengeance heheh.
People, if you haven't, go check out her fic Armours. It's super cool! One of my favorites! And while you're at it, check out Spyrofury767's fic Messenger of Letters. Another really cool one. They're both ongoing and they are sooo much better at updating than me!