AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Enochian is in bold.
Thoughts/angel-radio/telepathy is in italics.

DON'T SHOOT THE MESSENGER
PART 1

When Gabriel opened his eyes to find himself standing in Chuck's pocket-universe bar, his first thought was Lucifer totally failed at fratricide. Maybe his Father had finally decided to reinvolved Himself with their deteriorating family, and save Gabriel from his fate at the last second. Then he saw Amara, and he realized that couldn't be true—there were too many fail-safes in place keeping her locked away and he would have felt the Mark's destruction immediately. Which meant he'd been dead, and probably for a great deal of time.

Gabriel hadn't seen his Father in thousands of years. They talked for an age about their many unresolved issues, the archangel's life as a pagan god, and his love of humanity. By the end of it, most of Gabriel's anger was purged and his resentment cleansed. Basking in his Father's love reminded him of his purpose, and renewed his longing to be connected to his family.

Naturally, that was when Chuck decided Gabriel was ready to return—not to Heaven, but to Earth. Specifically, to the Winchesters.

"The Winchesters? Why in the nine-levels of Hell are you sending me to them?" Gabriel's dramatic outrage only made Chuck smile affectionately.

"Because you are my messenger. And they need you," His eyes twinkled.

"Okaaay," Gabriel pushed on with the most patience he could muster, "Can you elaborate? Do you have a specific message for them?"

Chuck just looked at him, "It is my only message. You will see what is needed when you get there."

"But..." Despair crept in at the thought of not returning home to Heaven.

"I know, son. You must trust me. Heaven will welcome you when it is time for you to return. Until then, know that I love you and I am very proud of you." Chuck embraced His son one more time, then pulled away, "Go to the Winchesters. They need you."

Before he'd had the chance to respond, Gabriel found himself standing outside an empty rundown building in the middle of nowhere-Kansas. The place was heavily warded, although it was instantly apparent that many wards had recently been destroyed. He spent the next hour snooping through the elaborate, nicer-on-the-inside bunker. It was clearly lived in, and judging by the personal items he found it seemed to be home to his Dad's favorite humans.

As he reached the garage, Gabriel sensed Castiel growing closer. Stretching out his grace, he could identify two humans. There was also another person was with them. A person exceedingly powerful who carried grace. A person with grace who Gabriel could not identify.

It was enough to make him pause. Even though centuries had passed since Gabriel left Heaven, he knew every angel in existence. He was present for the creation of all his younger siblings and could instantly name each one based on their grace alone. Yet he didn't recognize the grace-filled being traveling with his brother and the humans.

When he heard the infamous sound of the Impala screech to a halt on the other side of the door, he tried to assess the situation. He silently sent a curse to his Father for not giving him more information. Listening for a minute, Gabriel could clearly identify Dean and Castiel's voices. He chuckled when he realized they knew he was there and were trying to prepare for a possible fight.

Putting on his best sassy expression, Gabriel made his grand entrance. The monologue he'd prepared went swimmingly until he set eyes on the child clinging to Dean Winchester. All he saw at first was the familiar grace of his Father emanating from within the tiny body. But then he looked into those enormous hazel eyes and he knew. The terror pouring off Sam was a shock to his system and almost physically painful. It kept him frozen in place when everyone else gave chase to the suddenly escaping kid. Dean's shout of "don't fucking move" didn't even register for several minutes.

Damn it, Dad! You couldn't have given me just a little heads-up here?! Gabriel's mind reeled with the possible reasons for Sam's change. He wasn't a Nephilim—the boy would have been born that way. A witch could have de-aged the younger Winchester, but wouldn't have the ability to impart grace on a human. Especially not his Father's grace. The only explanation was that his Father had done this Himself.

The reason why his Dad would intervene in such an extreme way quickly became clear as the night wore on and he heard a small part of the events surrounding the failed apocalypse. Horror still made his vessel feel shaky and his grace unsettled. Now that the others were asleep it was easier to drop his mask of confidence and really focus on the child in question.

Gabriel stared at the bundle of blankets and curly hair in his arms. The sleeping boy was a miracle—to survive inside Lucifer's cage at the mercy of two furious archangels was unthinkable. His Father's grace shone brightly among the fragments of Sam's soul and it called to his own grace in a way he hadn't experienced since before the creation of humanity. The fledgling was something the archangel had long given up ever seeing, let alone holding in his arms, ever again.

Brother, are you alright? Castiel's true-voice broke through Gabriel's thoughts and resonated within his mind. He tore his gaze from the slumbering child to meet his brother's worried eyes.

Shaking his head, Gabriel struggled to sort the conflict of emotions churning within. I don't really know, Cassie.

What is troubling you?

Gabriel looked back down at Sam and pulled the blanket back just enough to see the boy's face. Draining his grace had kept him deep in sleep so far, but it was not guaranteed to last through the entire night. And it would not ward off dreams. What isn't troubling me right now? Gabriel huffed a hollow laugh out loud. His fingers traced the smooth brow. How did this happen?

Castiel frowned, God healed Sam by merging His grace with the damaged soul.

Not what I meant.

What did you mean? the younger angel asked when Gabriel didn't continue.

I mean...I mean how could our brothers fall so far that they shred a soul. Sure, Michael can be a dick...and Lucifer was a whole bag of dicks. But to do this? he found he was still slowly shaking his head, like the more he did it the more he could deny the past actions of his family. I ran away because I couldn't take the fighting or how empty Heaven felt when Lucifer and the others fell. I buried 'Gabriel' so far below 'Loki' he was essentially dead. I did things I'm not proud of—especially now that I've talked them over with our Father. I taught lessons, and when a lesson couldn't be learned I killed. But I never tortured for torture's sake.

You may have buried 'Gabriel' under the guise of 'Loki' but you never rid yourself of the need for righteous justice. You continued to protect innocents from the evil doers. Castiel put a hesitant hand on his brother's shoulder, wary of overstepping boundaries. Michael changed in our Father's absence. He ruled Heaven like a cold tyrant more concerned with obedience than justice or mercy. Raphael was even worse—he abandoned his role as a hero to become Michael's enforcer.

Sadness grew in Gabriel at hearing how Heaven had changed, as did his feelings of guilt at not being there to try and prevent it. How did Raphael die?

Castiel's hand jerked back, startling Gabriel with the violence of his movement. But there was no anger in those blue eyes—only a storm of despair and remorse. Father didn't tell you?

Dad didn't tell me shit before sending me here, Gabriel told him wryly.

Castiel looked away from him, jaw clenched and hands fisted tightly atop his thighs. I killed him.

Gabriel blinked, Come again?

I killed him. He was attempting to restart the apocalypse. Factions formed, sides were taken, and Heaven was on the verge of civil war. I... he broke off, face flushed with shame, I was so stupid and naive. I decided to empty purgatory of its souls for their power. When I succeeded, I killed Raphael and unleashed the Leviathans upon the earth.

A soft whistle made Castiel turn back toward an awed Gabriel. Damn, little bro, you sure don't do things halfway.

Castiel nodded solemnly, I went very 'dark side' for a time. Proclaimed myself the new god and killed anyone who stood against me.

Did you just quote 'Star Wars,' Cassie? A small smile lifted the corners of Gabriel's mouth—both in amusement and to show the angel that he wasn't judging his mistakes.

Castiel shifted in his seat and some of the tension eased from his body. Yes. A couple years ago, Metatron took over Heaven using the Angel Tablet.

The Scribe? Gabriel interrupted, looking incredulously at his brother. Wimpy little guy? Dad's glorified secretary?

Castiel narrowed his eyes at the description. It was accurate but it downplayed the level of destruction Metatron had wrought on Heaven and Earth. And it illustrated how easily the 'expendable' angels could be overlooked or dismissed. Yes. He wanted to rewrite reality to make himself the new god and tried pushing me to play the role of his villain in his 'grand story.' He actually used you—well, a construct of you—to trick me into leading the rebellion. However, when I realized what was happening, Metatron became very upset because I didn't understand his references to popular human cultural icons and stories. So he 'downloaded' all of them into my memory. It has made communicating much easier, even if I still do not understand everything humans say.

When the younger angel used air-quotes in all seriousness, Gabriel had to hold in the laugh bubbling up through his system. The second time, it escaped in a snort. The noise made Dean shift on his bed and Castiel extended his grace to soothe the man back into a deeper sleep. Then he turned to scowl at his older brother.

I fail to see the humor of my story. Metatron caused death among the angels at a rate far greater than Raphael's civil war or even my own horrendous slaughter against those who opposed my reign.

You are right. There is nothing funny about any of that. Gabriel waved it off, But what IS hilarious is you using 'finger quotes!' He mocked him by repeating the gesture with his free hand.

Castiel's scowl morphed into contemplation. Oh. I wondered why people laughed when I use them. I always assumed I was incorrect in my references.

Man, I've missed you Cassie. Gabriel said affectionately. His grin faded when he felt Castiel slump in the seat next to him, and a slight tremble work its way through the angel's body. Castiel? Gabriel worried he'd said the wrong thing.

I...I missed you as well, Gabriel. More than I can ever express. Blue eyes met earthy-gold and Gabriel was floored to see tears there. I know we were not very close before you left Heaven, but I do remember you from when I was younger than Samuel. I always appreciated how kind you were to us younger, lesser angels. So much kinder than the other archangels—even Raphael. Your absence was felt throughout the flock, especially as Michael and Raphael grew cold and more distant.

I am so sorry, Castiel. Gabriel wanted nothing more than to gather up all his remaining siblings and hold them as close as he was holding Sam right now. Slowly, he wrapped his right arm around Castiel's shoulders and drew him into his side. As the trench coat clad body relaxed into the embrace, Gabriel unfurled one primary wing to add another layer of warmth and protection. Golden feathers covered the inky black ones and their graces intertwined like cat tails. They sat there, not moving, for over an hour. Simply basking in the renewed connection unique to angels. It had been far too long since either of them had felt the security of home.

In the early morning hours, Gabriel felt Sam begin to stir. After reassuring himself that it wasn't a nightmare, Gabriel gently shifted the blanket so it wasn't confining the boy's movements. The last thing he wanted was for Sam to wake up feeling restrained.

Should he be waking already? Castiel asked in a worried tone.

Gabriel shrugged, unsure himself. I know what is normal for seraphs, but I was the youngest archangel. It's kinda been going on several million years since I was this age. Possibly even billions of years. I don't really remember naps and how long they lasted. Actually, I don't remember sleeping at all. But Samuel is different, so I don't think there is a 'normal' here.

They tried not to hover (and failed miserably) as they watched Sam go from sleep to consciousness like most hunters—almost instantly. Years of being trained by John Winchester and living in a constant state of vigilance meant that the boy was aware of his surroundings before his eyes opened. Gabriel felt the tiny body tense and wide hazel eyes lock onto his face. There was only a second for Gabriel to realize that seeing the Trickster first thing was probably a bad idea. Especially when a small fist shot toward his mouth.

Gabriel's reflexes kicked in and he grabbed the fist before it made contact. "Whoa there, Sambino! Should have known you were the 'wake up swinging' kinda guy."

Sam stared, breaths coming in shallow gasps.

"Samuel," Castiel voice was low, just above a whisper. Sam jumped and looked past Gabriel to see the familiar face of his friend. "Are you awake?" The boy nodded. Castiel slowly reached to take his fist from Gabriel's grasp and continued talking. "Do you remember where you are?"

Sam's eyes darted back up to Gabriel for a moment before he turned to look around the room. They heard his breath hitch when he saw his mother and brother. When he turned back, his cheeks were flushed and he refused to look at them.

I think someone is remembering his meltdown last night. Gabriel's voice spoke in Castiel's mind.

He has struggled with controlling his emotions a great deal since our Father changed him.

That's to be expected. You chickadees were always having outbursts at this age—and that was without the emotional baggage this little guy carries. Gabriel rubbed the boy's back and spoke in a whisper, "What do you say we go make some breakfast? Hmm?"

Sam nodded again and shuffled onto the floor. Gabriel stood and as they made their way into the hallway he used his grace to check the humans. Both were in a deep sleep, and should stay there for a while longer. He wanted to ensure they gave the angels some time to talk with Sam before they awoke. Castiel nodded his approval and followed.

In the hallway, Gabriel went to pick up Sam only to have Castiel grab his arm. Arching an eyebrow in question, the younger angel just shook his head. He does not like to be carried unless there is no other option.

Gabriel pouted but continued to walk alongside the boy, keeping his hands to himself. They moved at a sedate pace and Gabriel had to bite his tongue to keep himself from making comments about their new height-reversal. He knew Sam wasn't ready to be teased, but the prankster in him was longing to crack jokes—if for no other reason than to break the tension.

"I know you guys think it's cool to live in some kind of underground bat cave, but seriously, it's dark. We should hang some party lights or something in the halls so it's less like some military compound and more like a superhero headquarters. Or even better—floating candles like at Hogwarts," When they reached the kitchen, Gabriel snapped on the lights. "Now, lets see what you crazy kids have by way of real food. I snooped yesterday before you all got here, and I gotta say—I was not impressed. No ice cream. No chocolate. No candy at all! Just coffee, hamburger meat, and weird green stuff. How in Dad's name did you manage to live off that?" He rambled as he busied himself with going through all the cabinets. A glance over his shoulder showed Sam sitting down on a stool with his arms wrapped around his middle.

With a sigh, Gabriel set down a skillet and walked over to the pitiful figure. "Hey, you. With the sad face. You want to give me a hand?"

Sam shrugged, then shook his head without looking up.

Gabriel crouched down so they were eye level and nudged the boy's chin up with a gentle touch until he met his gaze. "How about this—you help me with breakfast and I'll see to it you get a full sized coffee." Sam glanced over to Castiel who nodded his agreement to the terms.

"Hey!" Gabriel said in mock outrage, bringing the boy's attention back to him. "What are you looking at him for? He's not part of this deal." With a wink, he held his hand out and waited for Sam to shake it. When he did, Gabriel gave a broad smile. "Good choice. Alright, up you go." Without pause, Gabriel scooped Sam up and brought him over to the island.

Immediately, Sam began fighting his hold. "Put me down!"

"Oh, he can talk." Gabriel laughed as he sat the boy on the counter, "Did you know he can talk, Cassie?"

"Of course I know he can talk," the angel answered, clearly confused, "You have heard Sam talk on multiple occasions, including yesterday. Was there a reason you were concerned he had lost the ability?" Castiel walked swiftly over to them at the island and stood in front of Sam. After studying him intensely for a second, he raised two fingers to the boy's forehead.

Sam rolled his eyes and pushed the hand away before it made contact while Gabriel burst out laughing. "Ignore him, Cas," Sam said with a scowl at the archangel, "He thinks he's being cute."

"I think I'm being cute?" Gabriel said through his laughter, "That's rich coming from the chickadee in footie pajamas!"

Sam's scowl morphed into a full-blown bitch-face that only made Gabriel laugh harder. Giving up on making the archangel take him seriously, Sam looked down at his clothes. Mary had picked this sleep set out, insisting they would keep his feet warm in the chilly bunker. Dean had laughed at him until their mother sent him across the store for some vague item to give them all a break. "Who dressed me?" he asked Castiel.

"Your mother." the angel answered.

A blush covered Sam's cheeks, "Why not Dean?"

"He wanted to, but Mary insisted. She was very concerned about you after..." Castiel trailed off when he saw Sam flinch at the reminder.

"After I screamed at you and almost hurt my family?" Sam mumbled, looking down at his knees to avoid eye contact, "Why would she even want to touch me after how I acted?"

"Okay, none of that. Move bro," Gabriel hip-checked Castiel out of the way and took is place directly in front of Sam. Placing a hand on either side of the boy he leaned into his space. The laughter was gone, but his smile remained. He waited a moment, allowing Sam to adjust to his sudden closeness. The boy pulled back but didn't try climbing over the counter top, and he stayed still when he realized Gabriel wasn't going to grab him.

"Alright, Sammy, let's break this down a bit, okay? You have grace. I'm guessing that it reformed your body to fit the angel-age of your soul which makes you feel vulnerable and a bit defenseless. It also means your mind is now able to process the centuries of torture you survived in the cage. It is normal to feel unbalanced and out of control. Because you are, and it takes time to learn how to properly control grace abilities—even for the angels who have never known life without grace, it takes centuries to become stable. And they were never exposed to anything approaching human-level emotion. Look at Cassie, here. He's been around humans now for years, and he's still practically a Vulcan!"

Sam glanced at Castiel who was nodding, "That is an adequate comparison."

Gabriel chuckled, but kept his attention on Sam, "I'm never going to get used to him understanding pop culture references. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that what you are experiencing is normal. You are normal."

"Yeah, normal," Sam muttered in disbelief and tried to look away.

"Look at me, Sam," Gabriel waited until the boy obeyed, then continued, "I know this was never exactly on your list of life goals. And for most humans living in the mundane world this would seem like something straight out of a fantasy movie. But you grew up immersed in the supernatural world. You've known angels and demons and vampires and werewolves and a hundred other creatures who share this planet. You've traveled through time, been to Heaven and Hell, and Dad knows where else. People in your family have died and been resurrected on an almost yearly basis. And you had the big-man Himself as a house-guest for a time. So yeah, normal is relative."

He paused while Sam processed what he'd said. The boy sat there, picking at his pajamas with those tiny fingers. Finally, he looked back up into Gabriel's face. "But what if it's too much?"

"Too much what, kiddo?" he prodded gently.

"Too much for them?" Sam whispered as though worried speaking any louder might summon the sleeping humans.

"You mean your mother and Dean?"

Sam nodded, biting his lower lip.

"Well, I can't promise there won't be an adjustment period. But I don't think you'll have to worry about it being 'too much' for them. Especially for Dean. You two have gone through everything together—even before the apocalypse you'd already experienced more than most hunters would in a lifetime. And I don't even know everything that's happened in the more recent years, but I'm sure it all got even bigger, darker, and more dramatic knowing you guys. Like the Leviathans? Cassie told me a bit about that fiasco. I remember them, and they were a formidable enemy for the archangels and the host. I can't imagine a bunch of raggedy humans fighting and winning against them, but you did!"

"Not without consequences." Sam said in a shaky voice, "Dean and Cas got stuck in Purgatory. And I did nothing to get them back!" He looked at Castiel with watery eyes, begging for forgiveness without words.

"Samuel," Castiel moved closer to them, "you had no way of knowing what had happened to us or where we were. It is not your fault."

Benny has been more of a brother to me this past year than you've ever been! You let me down.

Mistakes? Let's go through some of Sammy's greatest hits.

Drinking demon blood, check. Being in cahoots with Ruby.

Not telling me that you lost your soul.

Those aren't mistakes, Sam. Those are choices!

Always blamed me for pulling you back into it...this life.

Everything you've ever done since you climbed into my ride has been to deceive me.

Sam's gut clenched as his brother's voice rang clear in his head. He quickly wrapped his arms around his stomach and clenched his eyes shut against the onslaught of memories tied to that time. The anger and pain and guilt that constantly fed back into each other like a vicious looping cycle. Sure, he had apologized for not looking for Dean just a few months ago. Right after Lucifer had also done a "Sammy's greatest hits" slideshow of his life. And maybe the wound was now a scar, but it wasn't gone. It could never be erased.

A cool hand pressed to the forehead and he felt Castiel's grace soothe the headache he hadn't realized was pounding. "Sam, those are things Dean said in the past, under the influence of a cursed object. They do not reflect how he currently feels about you or your relationship."

"But how is this any different? Chuck offered, and I said 'yes' and now I'm not human. I'm not human Cas! Right now, Dean's in shock because he didn't die from the soul bomb, and mom's back, and I'm different. Give him enough time for it all to sink in and settle, and he's going to realize that I'm not human. It's been, like, our biggest fear since dad's last words to Dean was he'd either have to save me or kill me."

A gasp sounded from behind Sam, at the entrance to the kitchen. Castiel instantly straightened up and started to step around the island. Gabriel stayed where he was, still leaning against the counter with his hands on either side of Sam. He saw Mary hold up a hand and Castiel stopped. She looked furious.

"John said what?!"

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
The original opening line to this story was this: "A new fledgling, unique in his creation, and it was Samuel-fucking-Winchester." It was my starting point for writing Gabriel's inner monologue, but it never fit on it's own. I held on to it and kept pushing it to the bottom of the word document...until I was done, and there wasn't any place for it anymore. So, I give it to you here. :)

Thanks to everyone who has commented so far.

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