TEACH YOUR CHILDREN
PART 12: THE ONE THEY PICK
Previously at the Bunker
The guard sat on high alert along the perimeter of the Messenger's nest. It was rare for both archangels to leave the premises at the same time. But there was an important meeting tonight regarding the imminent invasion of the British Men of Letters.
Zadkiel hoped the attack was carried out soon. His wings shuddered, remembering the grace storm that shook Heaven. Sam's screams were carried within, unleashed when the monsters had burned the fledgling with holy fire.
He shook his wings out, pushing aside the morose mood. The child was safe and relatively happy. Sam might never be the carefree fledgling that Heaven was used to raising, but he had come a long way in a short time. As Nuriel kept reminding them, Sam was thriving in many ways.
We have an incoming angel, Sariel's voice rang clear through his mind. It is Gabriel but he is early. Be alert!
Zadkiel stood at the ready. They weren't expecting the archangels to return for several hours still. For only one to return so far ahead of schedule could mean anything.
Stand down, dweebs, Gabriel said as he flew past them. I'm just checking on everyone. Gotta work on building my 'overprotective big-bro' routine so I can out-do Dean. You guys can chill. I promise!
Understood, Sir! Sariel replied.
Ugh! Sariel, I told you to quit calling me that. It makes me feel old, Gabriel groaned in a very undignified voice.
Zadkiel grinned at the sound. He'd missed the Messenger's playfulness through the centuries. Now that he'd returned, it was a constant shock to their systems to hear him tease or whine at them in such a human way. Sariel's horror reverberated through their grace.
It is not disrespect if Gabriel orders it, Sariel, Zadkiel gently reminded her.
It is the principle of the matter, she snapped back. He is an archangel. There is a clear chain of command. He wishes me to ignore an eternity of protocol—toss it aside as though it means nothing!
I do not believe Gabriel has lived under our protocols for a very long time—if he ever really did to begin with, Nuriel said softly. He was always unique among the four oldest. Always young in spirit no matter how many eons passed.
Sariel's sigh drifted across the yard.
A short time later, Gabriel left again. Keep them safe, angels! he shouted as he flew past.
Zadkiel watched the streak of golden grace cross the heavens and wondered at the emotion he'd heard. He didn't have long to ponder, however, when a second streak followed the Messenger at a slower pace—a violet-white spark that was incredibly familiar. Terror gripped him at the sight. NO!
Stay and protect the Bunker! Nuriel and I will follow the boy, Sariel ordered, already flying.
Alarms were sounding through his grace and he knew Castiel would have been alerted to Sam's departure by now. He immediately landed by the Bunker's entrance. However, when he reached for the door, warding burned his grace.
Castiel! he called. I am outside…
The door swung open, revealing a distraught Castiel and a cacophony of deafening noise pouring through some kind of sound system. "Zadkiel, what is happening?" the seraph demanded.
Before he could report, Dean Winchester came sprinting to a stop next to a large table that held a map. His hands were clasped over his ears. "Cas!" he screamed. "What the fuck, man!? Is this another one of Gabe's stupid alarms? Did someone sneeze on his favorite mug or touch his toothbrush or what?! Turn it off!"
Castiel waved his hand to silence the music and pulled Zadkiel by the collar. He stumbled across the threshold in surprise. The wards tingled but didn't burn now that Castiel's grace touched his.
"Explain," Castiel ordered.
"Explain what, Cas?" Dean yelled up confusion. The man wore an odd combination of sleep pants, t-shirt, combat boots, and robe. Zadkiel had never seen those items worn together before. "Why is nerd-angel in the bunker? Is he the reason we got serenaded?"
"Dean," Castiel said in a terse voice that stopped the hunter's rambling. "Sam is gone."
"Sam is what?" Dean asked, frowning. "How can he be missing? Gabriel was just…"
"Sam flew," Zadkiel answered quickly. "It appeared as though he was following Gabriel. Sariel and Nuriel went in pursuit of him. I was instructed to remain here to guard the nest until they return."
"Sam flew?" Dean repeated slowly. "My brother, Sam? Tiny kid, has trouble walking sometimes? Can't fly more than a few feet across the yard? That Sam?!"
Zadkiel glanced at Castiel and caught the small wince on the other seraph's face. "Yes?" he hesitantly answered.
Dean scowled at them for a heartbeat. Then, turned and ran back the way he came. "Sammy!" he bellowed.
Castiel took off after him and Zadkiel could only follow. He was bewildered. What were they doing? Why was Dean yelling for his brother when they'd just informed him Sam was no longer there?
The hunter threw a door open and barreled inside. Zadkiel peered around Castiel. There was a small bed with no blankets—just a twisted sheet half off the mattress and a pillow on the floor. He guessed this was Sam's room, although he couldn't imagine why the fledgling slept in isolation.
Suddenly, a cascade of voices from Heaven flooded his mind. A fledgling… in Heart Hall… Shapeshifter… Father help him… in a vessel…He heard Castiel gasp and wasn't sure if it was the volume or the message.
Bare feet slapped through the hall behind him and Zadkiel turned to see the mother running toward them. "Zadkiel? What's happening? Is Sammy okay?"
Dean spun around, shoving Castiel to the side so he could grab Zadkiel with both hands. "Where's my brother, you son of a bitch? I swear to your Dad, if you had anything to do with this, I got an entire collection of angel blades with your name on them…"
Zadkiel frowned. Angel blades couldn't have his name on them. Each was unique to the angel whose grace formed it.
Do not explain angel blades to him. Castiel's voice interrupted his thoughts. He is not being literal. It is a threat, meaning he will kill you with them.
Oh, Zadkiel said in surprise, eyes going wide as he focused back on the hunter inches away from his face. "I do not have your brother, Dean. But I now know where he landed."
"Where!?" Dean spit.
"Dean," Castiel said, grasping the man's wrist, "perhaps we can move to the kitchen. I believe this will be better discussed sitting down with coffee than screamed in the hallway."
The grip on his collar tightened and Zadkiel thought Dean wasn't going to take Castiel's suggestion. But then one hand dropped. "Fine," the hunter grunted as he began dragging Zadkiel through the halls.
Once in the kitchen, he was shoved into a chair. Dean stood over him, arms crossed and muscles vibrating with tension. Castiel and Mary took up sentry positions on either side of the hunter. No one moved to make coffee.
"Start talking," Dean said.
Zadkiel adjusted his shirt and nodded. "Gabriel returned here ahead of schedule to check on things. After he left, Sam followed. He's not as fast as Gabriel—far less coordinated. Sariel and Nuriel immediately began tracking him. I was told to remain on guard here."
"Yeah, yeah," Dean said, waving a hand impatiently, "get to the part where you know where he landed."
"Oh. He," Zadkiel glanced at Castiel who nodded, "he's in Heaven. And he accidentally brought Morpheus with him."
"Excuse me?" Dean's voice dropped dangerously low.
"He followed Gabriel," Zadkiel explained. "And Gabriel returned to Heaven."
"So, Sam and Morpheus are with Gabriel now?" Mary asked.
Father help me—I was not made to work with fledglings! Sariel's voice rang with frustration. Why is he kicking me, Nuriel? I am only trying to get the blankets off his feet!
Zadkiel and Castiel winced as Sam's voice ricocheted through their heads. GABRIEL! Gabriel! Raphael! Castiel! Help me—angels take me! The despair and anguish in the boy's voice made Zadkiel's grace twist in empathy.
"What?! What's happening?" Dean asked frantically, his head swinging back and forth between the two angels.
Raphael's voice boomed through the rising cries of the Host. I am coming, Samuel! Do not fear—you will be fine!It didn't seem as though Sam heard him, however—there was no response.
"Sam is not yet with Gabriel," Zadkiel whispered through the pain in his head, "but Raphael is on his way." He was not used to fledglings' uncontrolled volumes. How did Nuriel handle a room full of little ones learning to speak at once?
"What do you mean he's not with Gabe?! He fucking followed him!" Dean's fists clenched at his sides in helpless rage.
"Dean." Castiel stepped forward, laying a hand on the hunter's shoulder. "Gabriel is an archangel who has flown since before the dawn of creation. Sam flew alone for the first time five days ago—and only managed a few of feet."
"So, he flapped all the way to Heaven without fallin'?!" Dean started pacing. "Is he okay? Because he passes out for hours after a few feet here! Jesus, what's he gonna do when he gets to freakin' Heaven? Is he even conscious?"
"He is awake. I believe he is trying to fight everyone," Zadkiel offered, hoping that would give the worried brother some relief to know that Sam was actually quite energetic.
"He's what?! Fucking why?!" Dean spun around to scream.
Sam's voice, soft and desperate, tickled the back of Zadkiel's mind—a mix between speech and prayer. He sounded out of breath. Gabriel, I don't know where we are but Morpheus is with me. I can't hear him anymore—I can't hear anything. There's too much noise. There are so many angels here…and grace!
Castiel held up a hand again, frowning in concentration. "Sam is praying to Gabriel. He is very confused. He does not realize he is in Heaven—just knows there are angels and grace and he cannot hear over the noise."
Dean frowned in confusion. "We've been to Heaven, Cas. How can he not know?"
Sam's voice drifted in again, louder this time as it was directed to an angel much closer to where Zadkiel was sitting. Castiel, the bunker's been compromised! I don't know where I am, but two of the guard were here when I woke up surrounded by angels. Don't trust Zadkiel if he's there! Please, keep Mom and Dean safe. And keep yourself safe, too!
Zadkiel froze, staring wide-eyed at the other seraph. The boy thought he was untrustworthy! What would that do to sway the opinions of his flock?
"Cas, how…" Dean started to repeat, but Castiel cut him off.
"You were in the human portion of Heaven—as human souls. Sam is in the Hosts' side of Heaven as a fledgling." Castiel squinted back at Zadkiel. "He likely followed Gabriel on instinct in his sleep. He landed in a location known as Heart Hall—it appears to us as an enormous stone cavern with carved pillars. Like a very bright 'Mines of Moria.'"
"So?" Dean asked, finally calming down some. He dropped into a chair across the table from Zadkiel. "What does that mean?"
Castiel sighed and sat next to the hunter. "Heaven is constructed out of grace, Dean. Sam's senses are overwhelmed from the flight and landing in the middle of the largest pool of grace he's ever experienced. Fledglings aren't even taken out of our nurseries without extreme protections because of all the grace!"
"So, you're saying Sammy flew in his sleep to Heaven, woke up surrounded by angels in the middle of the worst acid trip ever, and is trying to fight his way out?" Dean stared at the seraph.
Castiel considered his words and slowly nodded. "That is an accurate description. He believes the angels kidnapped him."
Zadkiel made a choking noise and felt the urge to kick Castiel under the table. Surely his brother did not believe he had something to do with Sam's flight!? The seraph's explanation so far had not indicated any deception on behalf of the angel guard but that didn't mean he wasn't setting him up for a fall.
Dean's head swung around at the noise. "Now what?!"
"Sam prayed to me," Castiel said casually with a small smile, "to warn us that Zadkiel is possibly trying to take over the bunker. He wanted me to keep you all safe."
Mary sighed and moved to what Zadkiel recognized as a coffee station. "Who wants coffee?"
Dean and Castiel's hands went up although they didn't turn around. Zadkiel tentatively raised his hand too. He'd never had coffee before.
Dean scowled at him. "You gonna take over the bunker, angel-nerd?"
"No…?" Zadkiel said, hand still in the air.
"Because traitors don't get coffee in this house," he growled.
Castiel snorted. "Dean, he couldn't even get through the front door without my help. And I have been listening to the entire Host, including Sam, since this began. Zadkiel is the last angel we would need to worry about infiltrating the bunker."
"Well, then he's the first one going on my list to watch out for," Dean muttered, leaning back with a yawn. "It's always the 'last ones you should worry about' that end up getting you."
Zadkiel opened his mouth but no sound came out. The roar of the Host grew deafening, their words too jumbled to make sense. He gasped and dropped his head into his hands.
Michael's voice suddenly carried over the din. Hush, my angels. Your noise is too much for sensitive young ears. The clamor of voices fell to silence. Thank you. Until further notice, I am ordering radio silence. Emergency use only.
"Oh my God, what's happening now? Cas!? What's wrong?" Dean's voice rose in panic as he grabbed Castiel's shoulders and then his face. "Cas, talk to me!"
"It's Michael," Zadkiel managed. "The Host was…yelling. He told them to be quiet for Sam's sake. I believe Sam had tried to run and shocked several angels along the way. With his grace."
Dean looked from Zadkiel to Castiel, who nodded in agreement with the assessment. The hunter grinned. "That's my boy."
Mary walked over with a tray of mugs and handed them out. She sat next to Zadkiel, gently rubbing his back. "Here you go. You can add things to your coffee to make it sweet and creamy. Just play with it until you decide you like the flavor," she explained, holding up a small container of sugar.
He nodded, not really understanding, and studied a scoop of the white crystals. Foods and drinks had no flavor, just molecules—the elements that made up each substance. And he only registered those so he could test the composition of items while in a vessel.
Dean studied him, eyes moving in careful scrutiny. They got to the spoon still suspended with sugar over the coffee and then rolled in exasperation. "Yeah, you're doing a great job seizing control, nerd. Do you need help with the sugar or can you handle it?"
"Castiel, can you go up there?" Mary asked softly, ignoring her eldest son. "To Sam? I don't understand why it's taking so long for Raphael or Gabriel to reach him. I mean, they're already in Heaven."
"I would not help the situation much," Castiel said with a sad smile. "I am not welcome in Heaven right now. If I flew into the middle of Heart Hall next to our newest fledgling, I would likely start a battle. Our siblings would believe I was there to attack Sam because they do not know his true identity and they do not trust or like me."
"She's got a point, though," Dean said, finally getting a sip of his coffee. "Why aren't the archangels with him yet?"
"Because we cannot fly within Heaven's walls," Zadkiel said.
Castiel nodded. "It is true. There are entrance and exit points to Heaven. But because Heaven is made from grace, flying can damage the structure and foundations. The only place where flight is allowed is in the training grounds where fledglings and soldiers can practice techniques safely within Heaven without damaging themselves or our home."
Raphael! Gabriel!Sam's screams tore through their minds.
Zadkiel dropped the sugar spoon into his coffee. The hot liquid splashed across the table but he could do nothing. He heard both members of the guard shout at the same time.
Do not let his wings extend! Nuriel ordered.
He is trying to fly home! Sariel yelled, giving Zadkiel a much clearer picture of what was happening.
"Don't make me ask, Cas," Dean said quietly. Zadkiel saw him rubbing Castiel's temples as the seraph was bent over in pain. "Please? Just tell me he's okay."
"Sam is safe," Zadkiel answered, barely above a whisper. "He… he does not believe the angels—that he is in Heaven nor that Raphael and Gabriel are on their way to him. And he is angry because the guard will not bring him home—so he tried to fly home himself."
Mary gasped. "No! That sounds dangerous!"
"It is," Castiel said, raising his head. His eyes were pained but they met the mother's gaze easily. "Sam did a lot of damage to himself flying so far. The others had to stop him and bind his wings until Raphael reaches them for his own protection." He raised a hand before Dean could speak. "Sam is unharmed. Scared and furious, but he is safe."
Zadkiel winced when he felt the echo of Sam's blast through his grace. The boy had just knocked a group of angels away from him—including the Commander. But he'd also thrown his canine companion.
Oh, Father, Nuriel cried, Morpheus! I cannot… it appears as though he is still breathing. Samuel will not allow us near him. Barachiel… oh, I think he will attempt to distract Samuel so I can heal his shifter.
You need to hurry, Nuriel. Sariel sounded pained. The boy is summoning… nevermind. He just stabbed Barachiel with an angel blade.
Castiel grunted, his hand flying up to cover his mouth in shock.
Zadkiel knew he wasn't much better. A fledgling summoning an angel blade? How was that even possible?
"I swear to God, if someone doesn't say something, I'm gonna just shoot myself and go to Heaven on my own. Gabe or Raph can resurrect me once I get Sam." Dean spoke in an eerily calm voice. "Or someone can tell me what the fuck is going on."
"Your brother," Castiel managed to say through clenched teeth, "just summoned an angel blade. And stabbed a Caretaker."
"He… what?" Dean asked, frowning.
"Summoned an—"
"Yeah, yeah," Dean interrupted with a wave. "You mean, he did the thing that blew up the bathroom? The thing that led to the big blow-out fight earlier tonight when the archangels learned about his sneaky side research project? You're saying Sam tried it again, managed to actually make one, and then stabbed an angel with it?"
Zadkiel stared at the hunter. "He tried this before?" he asked, horrified. "Sam has tried to summon a-an angel blade before?
"Is there an echo in here? Yes, he tried it before!" Dean rolled his eyes.
"But…" Zadkiel looked to Castiel for understanding.
The seraph nodded. "I know, brother. We just learned of it tonight. Rest assured, actions are being taken to prevent him from continuing these dangerous and foolish actions."
"But he just summoned one!" Zadkiel cried. "And stabbed Barachiel!"
"Well," Castiel paused. "That is true."
"What did Bar-a… Bar-chiel do?" Mary asked with quiet worry.
"Laugh," Zadkiel said, laughing himself. "He's a Caretaker though—and an odd one at that. He reminds me of Gabriel in a lot of ways. Playful, loud, physical. He's quite proud that Sam stabbed him, actually."
Dean thumped Castiel's chest with the back of his hand. "I stabbed you when we first met. It's like the official Winchester greeting."
A hand rested on Zadkiel's shoulder, making him jump. Mary leaned closer and whispered, "Don't worry. I think the stabbing has to be the very first thing that happens. You should be safe. Besides, I've really been trying to cut down on their propensity for stabbing—strangers and each other." She gave a long-suffering sigh. "I don't know how good I've been though. Not if Sam flew to Heaven and immediately started stabbing people."
Thank Father—Raphael is here, Sariel relayed. Relief flooded through Zadkiel's grace. He saw Castiel sag against Dean out of the corner of his eye.
"What…" Dean started to ask but Castiel cut him off.
"Raphael has reached Sam."
"Oh, thank God," Mary sighed.
"It's about time!" Dean grumbled, but he put an arm around Castiel's shoulders and drew him closer. "Is he okay?"
"He…"
Raphael, what the Hell is happening?! Gabriel's voice interrupted them loudly. Samuel is here—in Heaven? What the fuck—MOVE, SERAPHS, OR I WILL RUN YOU OVER! Someone had better start explaining!
Ahh, I see they found you. Michael replied dryly. I shall explain on a private channel, so your screaming does not distract Raphael.
"Oh my," Zadkiel whispered. For all of Gabriel's dramatics, he had never witnessed the archangel in such a frantic state. He did not envy the poor seraphs the Messenger was encountering in Heaven's halls.
Castiel smirked. "Gabriel is now aware of the situation and on his way to Sam as well."
"Where's he been? Napping?" Dean huffed.
"No," Castiel said, draining his coffee. "He was interrogating Sam's kidnappers in Heaven's prisons. The cells are heavily warded so no angel radio can be transmitted in or out of that space for obvious reasons. Guards would have needed to go in and inform him of Sam's presence."
Dean made a face. "Poor guards."
"No doubt," Castiel agreed.
Zadkiel drank his coffee. It was cold now and mostly tasteless—just as he'd expected. The sugar added a grainy texture where it hadn't dissolved at the bottom but it didn't taste sweet.
"Did you like it?" Mary asked, biting her lower lip.
"It was… wet. And crunchy," he answered honestly.
"No more coffee until you can taste it," Dean said. "You'll just waste it all."
"Castiel," Mary said, collecting the empty mugs to refill them with fresh coffee, "can you teach him how to taste like Gabriel taught you?"
Castiel considered it for a moment. "I can try." He stood and gathered a few items from the refrigerator and pantry. "Humans have four main taste receptors—bitter, sour, salty, and sweet."
Zadkiel nodded even though he didn't quite understand. Mary returned with the coffees. She placed a fresh cup in front of him and he inhaled the steam. The sensation was pleasant enough.
Castiel laid the things out on the table in front of Zadkiel, explaining each item in turn. "Coffee is bitter. Lemons are sour. Potato chips are salty. Strawberries are sweet. It will be easier to taste the difference if you try foods that are extremes of each."
"Ugh, that looks disgusting," Dean said with a shudder. "What a terrible first meal, Cas. Gabe made you pies and bacon! You're making him eat lemons and coffee and chips and berries? You, my friend, are an asshole."
"Well, I have never taught someone how to taste with their grace before, Dean!" Castiel said, rolling his eyes in frustration. Zadkiel wondered if that was a common gesture among all humans or just the Winchesters. He'd seen his brother use it as often as the others in this flock. "Besides, you thought he was infiltrating the bunker."
"Hey! I'm still not convinced he isn't." Dean pulled the sugar and cream away from Zadkiel's reach and glared at him. "I'm watching you, nerd-angel."
Gabriel has made it here now. Nuriel's relief was almost tangible. Although he seems to be in as much distress as Samuel—possibly just as injured too. Sweet Father, how many angels did he plow through to get here?
Zadkiel choked on the piece of lemon he'd just placed on his tongue.
"Did you taste it?!" Dean asked excitedly, no longer scowling. "That was so fast! Cas, you're a great teacher." He slapped the seraph on the back several times in pride while Zadkiel coughed out a seed.
"No. I haven't even explained anything to him yet. Nuriel interrupted before I could begin." Castiel frowned in what could only be considered a pout. "Gabriel just arrived in the Hall in true 'Gabriel fashion.'" He made an odd gesture with his fingers that made Dean and Mary laugh.
"Let me guess—was he riding a horse? Were there trumpets involved?" Dean asked, breathless.
"A horse?" Mary scoffed, slapping her son's arm. "Where's he gonna get a horse in Heaven? My guess is he knocked down walls to get there—just busted through them like one of those old Bugs Bunny-Road Runner cartoons."
"Mary is closest," Castiel said with a nod toward the mother. "He did use the door but he apparently did not wait for most of the angels to get out of his way between the prison and Sam's side. Raphael may be dealing with many injuries before returning to us."
"Not even a little trumpet?" Dean whined.
"No trumpets, Dean." Castiel stared at Zadkiel. Do you see, brother?
See what? Zadkiel asked, glancing around in fear that he'd missed something.
Castiel rolled his eyes again. What I have to put up with every day?
"Man, no trumpets? What's the fucking point?" Dean grumbled as he went to rummage through the fridge.
Instead of explaining with words, Castiel showed him using his own grace how to reach for the flavors of each food. It was an odd way of analyzing—like perceiving colors and smells and sound, but with his grace and the tiny organ inside his vessel's mouth. He tried the lemon again and was shocked by the overwhelming sensation that seemed to burn his eyes and nose.
"Ooo, I think he tasted that, Castiel!" Mary laughed.
Castiel grinned and coated a lemon slice in sugar before handing it to Zadkiel. "Try it again now."
He spit what was in his mouth into a napkin, then scrubbed at his tongue with a clean part. "I don't know if I want to taste things, brother," he said, reaching for the slice anyway and hesitantly putting it in his mouth.
The bitter-sour-citrus was tempered by the sweet coating of pure sugar. It burst on his tongue in a blend of brilliant flavors he had no name for. Chewing the fruit only mashed the pulp into the crystals more, stirring juices together in a way that delighted his senses.
"Ew, gross! I think he likes it, Cas. Your brother is weird." Dean shuddered as he watched
"Sam also likes lemons coated in sugar," Castiel said, turning to give the hunter a pointed look.
"Yeah, well," Dean shrugged, "my brother's weird too."
I guess you and Sam can just be the 'weird brothers' together, Castiel said silently to him.
Zadkiel felt a warmth infuse his grace at the words and wondered if his vessel was blushing. He had heard Sam's prayers since his human childhood—but that was not something that they had discussed. If anything, it might come across as a violation or as simple incompetence since nothing was done to answer his prayers in the end.
But besides that, he had nothing that connected him to the newest member of the Host. He was not a true soldier like Sariel. He had no experience with fledglings like Nuriel. He was simply the angel of mercy—a voyeur of prayers in a system that had broken down centuries ago.
I would like that, he said with a small smile. I have always been considered a little odd to the Host.
Castiel snorted. Yes, we could start a club.
A… club?
A group for angels who were seen as outsiders. We would hold regular meetings. Perhaps wear matching t-shirts and have a slogan. Castiel set aside the lemons and pushed the bowl of strawberries toward him. Try these. They are sweet without adding sugar.
Zadkiel blinked, unsure what most of those things meant. Slogans? Matching t-shirts? He reached for a strawberry and bit half of it.
The texture was completely different from the lemon. Softer, meatier, with tiny seeds that crunched delightfully between his teeth instead of needing to be spit out. And the sweetness was also different—not forced from a coating of crystals, but naturally found within the fruit itself. It was already part of the flavor of this strawberry.
He grabbed one of the lemon pieces again and shoved it back in his mouth along with the other half of the strawberry, groaning at the combination. Why was he only experiencing this now? These items had been around since the dawn of time! Some fruits and flowers had gone extinct and would never be tasted!
"Zadkiel?" Mary asked quietly. "Are you okay?"
He looked at her and frowned. Why was her face blurry? Swallowing hard, he nodded and said, "Yes? I think so."
"Oh, sweetie," she sighed and wiped his face with a clean napkin. "I think you're gonna fit right in here."
Castiel, is all well at the bunker? Raphael asked in concern. Nuriel tells me that she has tried to keep you apprised of the situation but the task has been difficult.
We are well, Raphael, Castiel answered. We are eager for any solid news of Samuel's wellbeing. And perhaps an estimated time for your return home. Dean is ready to storm Heaven himself to retrieve his brother.
Dean walked over to them, a curious look on his face. He glanced at Zadkiel with an eyebrow raised in question but said nothing. When Zadkiel didn't say anything, Dean rolled his eyes and mouthed 'who's he talking to' while holding his hand to his face—pinky and thumb extended toward his mouth and ear.
Zadkiel frowned, unsure of the gesture.
"He wants to know who Castiel is talking to over angel radio," Mary whispered.
"Oh," he turned back to Dean and also whispered, "it's Raphael. Castiel is asking for news of Sam and when they may return home."
"They are going to the Garden so Raphael can heal Sam for their return flight," Castiel relayed after a moment.
"Heal him? Why's he hurt?" Dean demanded to know. "Did someone touch him?!"
"It was from his flight there, Dean—the trip wrecked his wings. Raphael says he won't be able to fly for a while once they return. He's only going to replace the protective coating and groom them into place for now. And when he manifested the angel blade, Sam burned his palms again."
"I swear, I'm putting that kid in a bubble. With a helmet," Dean muttered.
"Why would the bubble have a helmet?" Zadkiel asked.
The hunter turned so fast, coffee sloshed over the side of his mug. "Oh no. You did not just say that. Did he just say that? Cas, did he…"
Castiel sighed. "Yes, Dean."
Dean broke out laughing. "Oh my God, there are two of you. He's like you! A mini-you from like, six or seven years ago! Oh, he is precious. Can we keep him? I bet I can train him up in no time. Forget the coffee—get this kid a beer!"
Castiel sighed again and dropped his head to the table. Good luck, brother. I tried to save you from this earlier. I am sorry I failed you.
Save me from what? Zadkiel asked nervously, glancing at the gleeful hunter.
From an enthusiastic Dean Winchester becoming your teacher. It will likely be exhausting, and sometimes humiliating. He means well. Just don't insult his music and you should do fine.
Zadkiel, are you also doing well? the Healer asked.
Yes, Sir! he answered, trying not to jump in surprise. The pat on his back from Mary told him he was unsuccessful.
I know Gabriel's flock can be a little overwhelming to those not accustomed to the Winchesters. Dean has not tried to stab you, has he? Raphael sounded as though he were smiling.
There was a threat of stabbing earlier. But I believe we have moved beyond that now. Zadkiel grinned. Castiel has taught me to taste foods with my grace! It is amazing, Sir! And now Dean wishes to keep me and train me, although Castiel does not seem very excited about this change in attitude.
A deep rumbling laugh rolled through his grace. He saw Castiel hide a grin against his arm on the table. Rest assured, Castiel—no one in their right mind would ever wish to replace you at Dean Winchester's side. I believe that is why Father resurrected you so often—because no other being in His universe has the patience for that human!
Castiel snorted and kept his head buried. I believe that is entirely possible. Not that I am a being of infinite patience—I just pretend to ignore him when he gets annoying.
Your secret is safe with me, Raphael said with a chuckle. Please keep Dean from stabbing Zadkiel before we return. Samuel has already stabbed Barachiel up here and I swear, I have never seen a seraph more excited to have their grace sliced open by an angel blade!
Well, it is Barachiel, said Castiel wryly. He has always been a little… wild.
Yes. And he has taken to Samuel quite strongly already. If I know Gabriel, we will be returning with a fourth guard member. Raphael gave a long-suffering sigh. I shall let you know when we finish our healing in the Garden. It should not take long. Then, we will be on our way home.
Good luck, Castiel said, rolling his head back and forth in his arm.
"So, uhh, what else did he have to say?" Dean asked around a mouth full of potato chips. "Cuz you two are grinnin' and blushin' like a couple of school kids over here. I think Cas might actually start giggling soon."
Castiel raised his head and took a deep breath. "I have been charged with the task of keeping Zadkiel unstabbed until the others return. Especially in light of Sam's stabbing spree up in Heaven. Raphael wishes to keep the Winchester-angel stabbing tally down to just the one."
Dean's eyes narrowed on Zadkiel, but this time it felt more playful. "We'll see. How's your takeover plans going?"
"It depends," Zadkiel gave him a slight smile.
"Oh, yeah? Oh what?" Dean asked, chin lifted in challenge.
"On how much food you have left. Are there more strawberries? I really like these!" He held out the mostly empty bowl as he threw another two into his mouth.
Dean blinked at him, then rolled his eyes. "Oh gods, Gabriel's gonna love you. If he comes home to an empty pantry…" He trailed off, grabbing the mostly empty bowl and searching through the refrigerator for more fruits.
"Then he'll be delighted to go on another market run to feed more mouths who appreciate his cooking," Castiel finished for the hunter. He pushed the coffee mug to Zadkiel. "Try this plain first, then we can add sugar and cream to your liking."
Zadkiel nodded and tasted it. The warm drink provided a completely new experience this time. It was not as bitter as he'd expected—not like the lemon. But it held other flavors as well that were nothing like fruit—smoke and earth and other things he had no name for yet. "I like it. It is not what I expected."
"Let's try adding some things to it one at a time, okay?" Mary said excitedly. She got the sugar and creamer back from Dean's side of the table, adding a small spoonful to his drink. "It helps if you stir it in while the coffee's still hot enough to dissolve it—then you won't get crunchy coffee." She winked at him with a grin.
He took another sip, delighted by the change in flavor. Who knew how complex human senses could be? Everything was different from so small a change! "I like it much better with sugar."
"Well, then you may like it even more with cream," Mary said, stirring in thick white liquid from a small pouring jar. "This is called 'half-and-half' because it is half milk and half cream. Very good for coffee!"
Zadkiel watched the black liquid swirl into tan and umber. Once the colors had blended completely, he took another sip. His eyes closed on their own as a third, even more amazing, flavor overtook him. The cream enhanced the sweetness and tempered the bitterness to create an entirely new concoction.
Blinking back moisture from his vessel's eyes, he peered down at the mug in sheer awe and joy. How could so many possibilities be contained in so small a thing? No wonder humans indulged in food and drink so often—it was delightful!
"Just wait until he learns there's flavored creamers and coffees," Dean whispered loudly to Castiel. Zadkiel's head shot up to look at the hunter but found him grinning in a proud way. "Oh, yeah. Flavored coffee, flavored creamer, flavor syrups added to fancy coffees made with steamed milk and brewed with shots of espresso. That's not even getting into the other forms of coffee like iced or frapped. Now me? I like it strong and black and plain. Occasionally with a shot of whisky in it."
That's a lie, said Castiel with a silent sigh. Well, not about the whisky. But he does like to sneak sugar into his coffee when no one is looking. It does not change the color so everyone still thinks he's drinking black coffee. He believes it will ruin his 'badass' reputation if the others know he enjoys sweet coffee.
Zadkiel grinned. I won't tell a soul.
Or an angel, for that matter, Castiel amended. He would pout—for weeks. Possibly months. I do not have the energy nor the patience right now.
For the next hour, the Winchesters and Castiel bided their time making him try various foods they found in the kitchen. Most of them he enjoyed immensely. Especially things that were dual flavors like sweet and salty, or sweet and bitter, or sweet and sour. As long as sweetness was part of the combination, he was completely on board.
Some items created fights—especially things Dean picked. "What do you mean, 'no?!'" he asked in outrage.
"Unless you are willing to eat an entire clove of garlic right here in this kitchen, Dean Winchester, then put it back!" Mary ordered, one hand on her hip with the other one outstretched and pointing toward the pantry shelves.
Dean stood there, contemplating the merits of eating a clove of garlic if it meant making someone else do it too.
"Do not make me start counting, mister!" she warned.
The hunter made a face and sprinted for the pantry.
What does counting mean? Zadkiel asked his brother silently.
Castiel gave him a small grin. It is a thing parents do to warn their children. There are consequences if they reach the end of their count and the order was not completed.
What kind of consequences? he asked, eyes wide as he glanced at the tiny fierce mother.
With Mary? Likely a tickle attack that would leave Dean in humiliating tears. She knows all his weak spots.
And other parents or children besides Mary or Dean? he asked, curious about how human families worked.
Castiel frowned. I am not certain about all other parents and children. I know that some utilize systems of time-outs, sitting in corners or chairs. Some lose privileges like television or playtime. Others turn to physical forms of punishment.
You mean like hitting? Zadkiel had received many prayers for mercy from children in his lifetime. They broke him over and over. It was a helplessness he had no words to describe.
I do, but that is not what happens in this nest! Castiel's voice was very firm. You will learn over time that Sam and Dean were both raised by a father who used physical and emotional violence to ensure their obedience. We are all very aware of the scars he's left on them—and are doing our best to make sure that is never a cycle they live through again.
"There! I put the garlic away. Are you happy!?" Dean asked loudly, throwing his hands into the air as he returned to the kitchen.
"Ecstatic," Mary said dryly. "Now, why don't we do something besides shove random food down Zadkiel's throat. At this rate, we'll have nothing left for breakfast when they return."
"And Gabriel will not wish to leave the bunker for any reason once he returns," Castiel said with a grimace.
"What? Why? He loves doing market runs through ancient times." Dean frowned as he grabbed a fresh cup of coffee.
Zadkiel stared between the two of them. Did the hunter know so little of angel traditions or how grace worked? Did he understand at all what this trip would have done to his brother's grace? Or the steps Gabriel would need to take to ensure his safety for the trip back? Was it not obvious?
Apparently, it was not.
"There are some things you should know," Castiel rubbed the back of his neck, "before they return."
"Uh huh." Dean sipped his drink. "Can you make that sound more ominous? Because right now it's just at the level of 'your brother has accidentally gotten betrothed to someone' scary. And I think you can do better."
"Perhaps we should sit somewhere comfortable for this?" Castiel suggested.
"Now, see, the last time that was said, Sam had flown himself into Heaven and no one wanted to tell me without coffee nearby." Dean took a step back and shook his head. "I dunno if I can handle something worse. How comfy are we talking? Do I need pillows to clutch? Blankets? Is a cushy chair good enough?"
"How about the movie room?" Mary offered, yawning. She glanced at the clock on the microwave. "It's almost two in the morning. We can at least sit somewhere nicer than these kitchen chairs."
"Fine," Dean conceded with a huff. He drained his mug and refilled it before stalking out into the hall.
Mary sighed. "He is going to be so grumpy tomorrow if Sam doesn't get home soon. I think I'm gonna make everyone take a nap. Angels included," she added over her shoulder as she left the kitchen.
There is no use arguing, Castiel said, shaking his head before Zadkiel could say anything. Besides, laying down to rest is quite pleasant.
I do not believe Sariel will allow "naptime" among the guard, Zadkiel said with a shy smile.
She has never had Mary Winchester order her to take one before. Cas smirked back.
Zadkiel stared after his brother who simply followed the path Dean and Mary had already taken. Are humans always this odd? Or are the Winchesters unique?
Humanity is filled with unique quirks. Each person or family may have their own patterns of behavior that have developed through lifetimes and generations. But the Winchesters are their own category of odd. Castiel slowed down until they were side-by-side. I have never met anyone like them in all my existence—human, angel, demon, or other creature.
Zadkiel nodded slowly in understanding. He had limited experience with other beings outside of Heaven except listening to the prayers of faceless humans. But even he could tell the Winchesters were a rare sort.
We shall soon be done with the healing here, Raphael's voice interrupted their thoughts. Samuel's grace is in a terrible state. It will need continuous care for a while after we return. And a new routine from now on.
Is this from the flight? Castiel asked, concerned.
There was a moment of hesitation from the Healer. Not entirely. I believe we have neglected to care for Samuel's grace because we have been so focused on the adult aspects of his mind. Sleeping in isolation, only reluctantly allowing grooming once a day, not remaining in contact with other angels and grace unless in training—his grace is malnourished and desperate for affection.
The seraphs both grimaced in the hallway at the mental picture. Fledglings were always kept bundled in layers of grace—their own, the Caretakers', and each other's. They never spent a moment separated from it. It was unimaginable for a fledgling to isolate himself from grace for any amount of time, let alone long enough to become malnourished!
Is he… alright? Castiel asked.
He will be, Raphael answered confidently. Gabriel has already removed my own layers of protections so he can smother the child in his own grace. Samuel is very confused by the affection and love coming from Gabriel—but it is what he has needed on a daily basis. And now that we are aware of the problem, we will make sure he receives it.
That… that will go a long way to allaying some of the fears Samuel has been having. Fears we just learned about this evening after you left. If we can convince him that these are not passing emotions—that this is how we all feel about him all the time—then perhaps he can settle down. Castiel sighed, remembering the boy's frantic face trying to explain how he was going to be left all alone one day. Not a fear—a certainty.
Yes, this fear of being abandoned by us all in the next century or two—well before he has reached adulthood? Raphael asked.
He told you his concerns? Castiel's eyes went wide in surprise as he stopped walking.
No. He told us the dream he had that led him to following Gabriel back to Heaven. Raphael sounded tired and sad. Rest assured, Castiel. We will not allow these fears to continue unaddressed. Nor will Gabriel allow his fledgling to starve himself under some misguided notion that he "does not need it."
That is… good. Though I will also be interested in seeing how he plans to carry out this new routine. Castiel glanced at Zadkiel who shrugged in bewilderment.
Very carefully, Raphael chuckled. I believe we are finished here. Give us a few minutes to return to Heart Hall and then prepare Samuel for the flight—oh. Hold on. We may be delayed. I believe Robert Singer has just arrived in the Garden. As much as I wish to get Samuel home, Robert may be just the face he needs to see right now. I will give you another update when we leave the Garden.
"Oh man," Castiel whispered. "If Bobby's there, we may never see Sam again."
"Who's Bobby?" Zadkiel asked, completely confused by all the information he'd received.
"Father figure to the Winchester brothers."
"A human?" Zadkiel almost yelled in surprise. "A human in the Garden? Is that possible?"
"Anything's possible with Bobby." Castiel shrugged.
"Fucking move, nerds!" Dean's voice echoed down the hall. "What the hell is taking so long? Did you get lost? Or is Zadkiel actually trying to take over the bunker now? I swear to God, if Zadkiel is trying a takeover, I'm getting my angel blade right the fuck now…"
Dean appeared at the door to the movie room, red faced and huffing. The seraphs stood less than a foot from him in the hall. Zadkiel put his hands up in surrender.
"Still not taking over!" he promised.
"We were receiving an update from Raphael," Castiel explained as he pushed past Dean in the doorway.
"Oh?" Dean's demeanor completely changed, softening into the worried brother. "How's Sammy doing? Are they gonna be home soon?"
"They just finished healing the mess he made of his grace from the flight. But Sam's got some… issues," Castiel said carefully. "Let's all sit down, okay?"
"Man, don't say things like that," Dean groaned. "You make it sound terminal."
"I mentioned earlier that there were things you should know before they return," Castiel started as they all took their seats. "Raphael has only confirmed these things for me—and possibly increased them to a much greater degree than I'd originally anticipated."
"Quit talking in riddles, Cas!" Dean said, throwing a pillow at the seraph.
"The flight alone would be both terrifying and painful for Sam at his age. When an angel goes between time and space, there is no air or heartbeat. Only your grace propels your vessel—the vessel itself is frozen. Sam would have remained in that state for what felt like days or weeks before reaching Heaven, and it would have stripped his grace raw by the time he landed."
"Oh my god," Mary gasped, grabbing Dean's hand.
Castiel nodded. "Raphael and Gabriel have done what they can to layer protections over Sam's grace for the return flight, but it will still be incredibly difficult. Now that he has wings, Sam experiences flight like those flying—not like you do as humans. It is no longer instant. Even if he is not directing the flight, even if he is being protected and guided by two archangels, he will still feel every moment in between time and space."
Dean's face turned grey as he clutched his mother's hand tightly. "So, he can't breathe or move or…"
"Exactly. It is already highly stressful to him making trips around the yard. It will likely take him a while to recover from this flight—physically and emotionally."
"There is a reason we keep fledglings in our nurseries in Heaven." Zadkiel took a seat on the other side of Mary. "Their grace is highly sensitive to everything it comes in contact with. They are never taken flying so young—and certainly never out of Heaven to other dimensions such as Earth! Of course, no fledgling has ever had wings at Sam's age."
"So, you're saying that Sam's gonna be a mess when he gets home?" Dean asked in a rough voice.
"Not just Sam," Castiel clarified.
"What do you mean?" asked Mary, rubbing Dean's back with her other hand and pulling him closer.
"Gabriel is considered the leader of this flock. That is a title not taken lightly among angels. We are all his—his responsibility, his to protect, his to nurture. Sam is his fledgling who is now in crisis." Castiel took a deep breath. "Which means part of Gabriel is in crisis too. Instincts will have him saturating Sam with his grace. Normally, neither of them would have physical form—a fledgling would be fully immersed within their Caretaker. That is not possible for Sam and Gabriel. And knowing Sam, it will likely be a struggle."
"Why?" Dean demanded.
"Do you remember Sam's reaction to the grace wrap the night Raphael first healed him?"
Dean shuddered. "Yeah."
"It's much more intense and invasive than that. Gabriel's grace will literally be holding Sam on the inside—not just wrapped around his physical body. The archangels will want to protect him as much as possible for this flight and they can't do that with a simple muffling layer around his skin." Castiel looked down at the floor. "Sam has been… struggling with letting us near him these last few weeks. I do not know the reason why. I assumed it was because he did not like being touched by grace so much. But much of his mood swings are likely because his grace needs to be touched."
"What do you mean?" Mary asked.
"Like any infant, touch is required to stimulate and soothe. It is an even greater need for fledglings. Angels do not require food or air or water to grow, but we do require the grace of others. That is how fledglings are nourished."
"And Sam is… not doing that?" Dean frowned, trying to follow.
"Raphael says Sam's grace is actually considered malnourished from lack of interaction," Castiel admitted.
"How is that possible?" Mary wiped tears from her cheeks. "I mean, you all interact with him constantly every day."
Castiel nodded. "I know it seems that way. But our interactions are mostly on the physical level. The only time he allows us to touch his grace is during lessons or grooming. And that is likely insufficient to what fledglings require at this stage in development. I do not know exactly—I was never a Caretaker."
"It is true," Zadkiel agreed. He had spent many hours discussing this very topic with a frustrated Nuriel since their assignment to the guard. "Fledglings spend every moment wrapped in grace for the first several centuries of their existence. It isn't until adulthood that the layers are slowly peeled back so an angel can begin their specialized training. And even then, we remained close to those in our garrisons or flocks. Heaven is made of grace—there is no avoiding it."
"Oh," Dean breathed, shaking his head, "Sam's gonna love this. He already throws fits if you pick him up or ruffle his hair too much. Imagine constant hugging."
"It is more comparable to feeding him since grace nourishes on a fundamental level," Castiel pointed out.
"Awesome," Dean said sarcastically. "Because getting Sam to eat is so much easier."
"You said that Gabriel would be just as bad as Sam when they return," Mary reminded them quietly. "What can we expect? What… what can we do? Or not do, for that matter?"
Castiel sat back against the cushions and rubbed his brow in concentration. "Honestly, I will not know what we are dealing with until I see them. But I imagine they will appear… clingy. Gabriel may even act territorial over Sam and not want others approaching him right away until he is certain the boy is safe and settled after the flight. Everyone will be riding on instincts that have been buried since before humanity's existence."
"So, be patient and don't rush up to them when they get back," Mary offered as a condensed version of advice.
"Yes, thank you." Castiel smiled in relief. "We will need to give them all space and allow Gabriel and Sam to dictate how things go in the beginning."
"Can't they just knock him out for the flight?" Dean asked. "I mean, flying sucks no matter how it's done. But does he have to be awake for it? Especially if he can't breathe or move or anything."
"I do not believe that is advisable for several reasons." Castiel frowned. "It is one thing to put the mind to sleep—but grace does not sleep. The youngest part of Sam would remain aware through the entire process but no longer have his older part conscious alongside to help process what is happening. Secondly, Sam is very against being put to sleep so things can be done to him. He would rather stay conscious through a terrible procedure than remain unaware of what is being done to him."
Dean winced. "Yeah. I get that."
Zadkiel. Castiel. We are leaving the Garden now. Raphael sounded exhausted. However, we are making a detour to the nursery first.
Both seraphs frowned at each other. That seemed like a very odd choice. And terrible timing for a tour.
"What's going on?" Dean whispered.
Castiel held up a hand, asking him to wait. Is everything well?
Samuel is… fighting Gabriel. He does not believe he is in need of comfort and is therefore holding his grace away from Gabriel. There is a lot of pent up rage in both his adult mind and the infant grace—and they are fighting each other for control. Raphael sighed. Gabriel will need to work him through this before we can fly home.
Understood, Castiel answered with a grimace. "There may be a delay in their return," he said to the room.
"What? Why?" Dean and Mary asked together.
"Raphael says that Sam is holding his grace away from Gabriel. He is fighting the need for comfort—both his own need to receive it and Gabriel's need to give it. They will not be able to fly safely until he is adequately protected, so they are stopping to address this issue somewhere private."
"You have private places in Heaven?" Dean asked, stunned by all the new information.
"They are taking him to one of our nurseries," Zadkiel explained.
"Oh my God," Dean whispered. "Did anyone take a camera?"
Castiel scowled. "This is serious, Dean."
"I know. Sammy's just been taken to his first nursery in Heaven. It's one for the scrapbooks!" Dean stood up from the couch. "We could blow it up and put it over a mantle. Do we even have a mantle in the bunker somewhere? What do nurseries in Heaven look like? I mean, human nurseries usually have cartoon characters and soft colors… sometimes even baby angels. Oh my God, do you paint baby angels on your walls? But like, little balls of light so they look really stupid?"
"Dean." Castiel stood as well and placed a hand on the hunter's shoulder. "He will be back soon."
Zadkiel watched in silence, not understanding Dean's rambling or jokes to be signs of concern. But Castiel's words had an immediate effect on the human—his shoulders dropped, the manic glee fell away to reveal a desperate worry, and tears filled the man's eyes.
"But Cas, he's so far away. And he's fucking scared, man." Dean's voice broke as his breath caught on a sob. "He's gonna act tough because that's what we were trained to do—no crying, no whining, no pity. Suck it up and fight through it. He's not even gonna know what to do with Gabe being all lovey-dovey with him. Nurseries are for babies, Cas! That's just gonna make him fight harder to prove he's not one."
"I know that this change has been hard to comprehend for everyone. Sam's retained his adult memories and therefore insists on being treated as a human adult. However," Castiel turned and paced around the ottomans, "the fact is, Sam is a baby by angel standards. Having adult memories of almost two centuries of trauma only complicates matters."
Zadkiel nodded. "Nuriel has mentioned the same thing quite often."
"Oh, yeah?" Dean turned to Zadkiel. "What does Mary Poppins angel have to say?"
"That…" a quick glance at Castiel told him not to ask or say anything about the unknown reference in the hunter's question, "Sam has a whole set of needs that are not being fulfilled because he refuses to see himself as an angel child."
"And how does Sam see himself?" Dean asked with a mocking edge.
"He sees himself as an adult human who has been de-aged physically to a six-year-old. And the grace is simply a thing that gives him abilities. Perhaps he sees it as a 'good' version of the demon blood. But he does not see grace as the equivalent to a soul—as being the core spiritual essence of his person. Because it is." Zadkiel stood up as well and slowly walked up to Dean. "Sam is his soul, which is now melded with grace. And that grace is an infant. It is not something he can pull out for training and push aside the rest of the time."
Dean scrubbed at his face and cleared his throat. "That's great. Has anyone told Sam that yet?"
"I believe that is what Gabriel is discussing with him now," Castiel said softly.
"In the nursery," Dean said.
"Yes." Zadkiel nodded.
"Awesome," Dean muttered, shaking his head. "So, setting aside the idea that my brother doesn't return until he's fully grown again, what are we looking at here timewise? A few hours? A few days?"
How are things going? Zadkiel asked the guard.
Gabriel and Samuel took only Morpheus into the nursery with them. I cannot tell you how long they will take. Nuriel sounded nervous. I must assume they are making progress. Gabriel made us wait by the door and he has not returned to indicate a change in plan.
They did not take Raphael with them? Castiel asked, tilting his head in concentration.
No, they did not! Raphael huffed. I am to 'stand guard.' As though all of Heaven may rush to the nursery upon learning Samuel is in there!
Not too outlandish, really, Barachiel pointed out with a laugh. I would certainly find an air vent to climb through to get a peek at the new baby.
You were also excited Samuel stabbed you! Nuriel scolded quietly.
Are you thinking you will return tonight, then? Zadkiel checked, just in case.
I certainly hope so! Raphael snorted. Father knows what Heaven would do with Samuel in it any longer than necessary. There are only so many angels left for him to stab—and I fear Gabriel may be next on his list.
Gabriel is a fine Flock Alpha, Zadkiel reassured with a slight smile. I trust his abilities against a two-month-old fledgling any day.
You have met Samuel Winchester, have you not? Raphael asked wryly.
Aww, that child loves Gabriel. Zadkiel grinned at Castiel who rolled his eyes.
Raphael laughed sharply. He loves Dean as well, but that does not stop them from stabbing each other. And Samuel is usually more often victorious. He may be tiny but he has speed.
I will take that under advisement. And shall pass along the good news to the anxious humans here. He saw Mary stand out of the corner of his eye, as though sensing the conversation coming to a close. "The plan still stands on them coming home tonight."
"Hey, if Gabe's gonna be super cling like Velcro, does that mean we get to move back into the big room again?" Dean beamed at Castiel, bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement.
Castiel squinted at him. "I am unsure what his plans would be for tonight, but I do anticipate him quickly moving Sam back into the communal bedroom, yes."
"Should we get it ready? In case they need it tonight?" Dean shrugged like it wasn't important but his giant smile betrayed him.
"The room has remained ready every night, Dean. Gabriel kept it prepared in case Sam ever wished to return." Castiel smiled fondly. "But I understand your eagerness. It will be nice to have everyone together again."
"Oh, man. Cas, what are we gonna do until they get back? I'm gonna crawl out of my skin here!" Dean bounced on his feet again.
"Perhaps we should go outside and wait for them?" Castiel turned to Zadkiel. "We can introduce my brother to the relaxing art of making puffy white sacrifices on sticks."
"You… what?" Zadkiel gulped. An archangel's flock made sacrifices? That did not sound right.
"Ooo, good idea!" Dean clapped Zadkiel on the shoulder and dragged him joyfully from the room. "How did Gabe describe it again? We roast the sacrifices over the fire, and then place them over the dark substance that liquifies between two baked squares. Come on, nerd angel—you'll love it!"
Zadkiel let himself be led back to the kitchen. He watched as the others gleefully gathered what appeared to be food items into a basket along with several beers. Mary tried to pat his arm reassuringly, but all he could think about was how he might explain performing sacrifices to Sariel when she returned.
It was almost three in the morning. Dean and Mary collected their jackets and hats before going out into the cold. Frost covered the grass, making it sparkle in the moonlight and crunch under their steps.
The fire blazed as always within the stone pit. Heat saturated the air without dissipating into the night sky above—a trick of Gabriel's, certainly. Castiel arranged the blankets and pillows for the four of them.
Dean wasted no time in explaining the intricacies of "marshmallow sacrifices." He showed Zadkiel how to spear the puffy ball of sugar on the metal stick and the various methods for cooking it over the fire. The hunter's tone remained solemn, as though he were passing on sacred ritual instead of a campfire tradition.
Zadkiel felt a memory stir within his own vessel. Sleeping under the stars with other young boys—all wearing matching uniforms with various badges. Telling stories to thrill across the flames. Settling down into songs as the night wore on.
"Do you sing?" he asked Dean as he watched the white confection turn golden brown.
"Uh, like in general?" the human shot back in surprise.
"My vessel was once something called a 'scout.' They would camp and sing around the fire," he said, gazing into the pit without answering. "We would also sing in Heaven quite often. So many old hymns—unheard in our halls now for thousands of years."
"Okay, Gimli," Dean said, clapping him on the back. "If you wanna sing Kumbaya, then be my guest."
"I do not think I know that song," Zadkiel said. "But I will sing one of our learning songs if Castiel joins me."
"What?" Castiel asked, startled. "No, brother, I have not sung in…"
"Oh, please, Castiel? It has been ages since we have sung together. Not since the end of my training days, at least," Zadkiel pleaded.
"Come on, Cas," Dean encouraged with a grin. "I bet you have a lovely singing voice."
"Fine," Castiel snapped. "Just… contain yourself."
Zadkiel took a deep breath and began his personal favorite hymn—The Year of the Tree. He was pleased to find his vessel's voice was a high treble. It matched his grace perfectly.
"Life and song encircle us with the winds of Spring,
flashing our green leaves in the sun
and surrounding us with the lyrics of birds.
We are both nurturing mother and newborn infant.
We awaken from our deep sad sleep,
reborn with the growing sun."
Castiel joined in for the second verse, his bass adding a steady rolling depth to Zadkiel's higher tones. The seraph flushed, keeping his eyes averted to the blanket for most of the song. But his grace swirled in joy and hummed along.
"The heavy heat of summer infuses our core
with a child-like joy.
We dance rejuvenated
in warm rains and
talk quietly with the moon.
All things are possible
and the world is our companion.
"But the sun grows old
and we feel ourselves start to change.
We are ablaze with color—
a final burst of brightness before the long sleep of winter.
The color fades and we grow mellow and cold.
The world becomes dark around us
and we shiver naked in the Fall.
Our roots burrow deeper,
clinging desperately to Earth and life,
fearing the time ahead.
"Winter is death.
The world is full of ice and pain.
We close our eyes and hold our breath.
No one hears our cries,
so, we go to sleep.
Only our roots remain—
buried below the frozen ground
and praying for the return of Spring."
The notes lingered in the air, echoing into the trees and stars. Zadkiel felt the forest sigh to hear their song voiced by angels once more. The woods should be sung their own hymns—they were some of the earliest teachers to the Host.
"How—" Dean started, then cleared his throat. "How have I never heard you sing before, Cas?"
Castiel shrugged. "I am sure you've heard me hum along to some tune on the radio at some…"
"No," Dean cut him off quietly. "I mean sing like that. Like you did just now. I've never heard that sound come out of you before this moment."
"I guess… it's been hard to find reasons to sing," Castiel gave the hunter a soft smile, "until recently."
We are heading once again for Heart Hall, Nuriel's voice said quietly. From there, we will fly back to the bunker soon.
How are they? Zadkiel asked, worried for Sam. A fledgling had never been flown from Heaven before. And one had certainly never flown into Heaven from Earth on their own.
Shaken. Emotional. I do not know what all was said or done inside the nursery, but I believe it likely delved into some deeply personal subjects for both of them. However, Samuel is now allowing Gabriel's grace to fully swaddle him from the inside. We can fly back safely. The Caretaker sounded shaken herself. And exhausted.
We are all outside by the fire, Zadkiel let her know. Safe travels, sister.
"Is everything okay?" Mary asked, laying a hand on his elbow.
Zadkiel smiled. "They are walking back to Heart Hall right now and shall return here soon."
"Really!?" Mary sat up in excitement.
"Really," Zadkiel reassured.
"And Sammy's okay?" Dean asked, looking at Castiel for answers.
"Sam is emotional but has allowed Gabriel to do what is needed to get him home safely," Castiel said carefully.
"Uh huh," Dean squinted at him. "So, you're saying he's a wreck."
"Yes." Castiel nodded.
"Good to know. We'll try not to tackle them as they land." Dean stood and stretched. Then, stashing their supplies back into the basket.
"I would highly recommend not tackling anyone when they land," Castiel said, grabbing the hunter's shoulder. "Gabriel may accidentally smite you."
Dean rolled his eyes. "I'm not gonna tackle them, Cas. Chill. I have a few self-preservation instincts left."
We are leaving now, Raphael informed them.
Castiel stood up and turned toward the yard. "They're on their way," he said simply. The others turned in anticipation as well.
Zadkiel saw them approach. The two archangels were easy to make out—Sam's tiny light stashed inside of Gabriel's golden glow. And three seraphs surrounding them? There was not time to wonder who the newcomer might be. Within seconds, the air was filled with the sound of wings.
All eyes immediately went to Gabriel, including those who just landed.
The archangel unzipped his jacket until Sam's head appeared. The boy's eyes were closed, his face lax against Gabriel's chest. "Come on, Sammy, open your eyes," Gabriel muttered, kneeling down on the grass. "Let me know you're okay in there."
Zadkiel saw the golden glow of grace diminish slightly as Gabriel eased it back. Raphael was frowning, slowly edging closer with Morpheus and whispering to his brother. The others also looked worried.
Gabriel ripped the zipper all the way down and pulled Sam around in his arms so he laid across his lap. "Sam Winchester, I know you like to forget some of your senses after flying, but breathing is not one of them!" He rubbed harshly across the boy's chest. "And I don't care how stoned I made you, we're back on Earth and you have to breathe air here."
Dean slowly walked past the still figures, ignoring the frantic whispers of Castiel and Mary. "Gabriel," he said softly, keeping his hands out in a non-threatening manner, "can I help?"
Gabriel looked up, eyes flashing at the intruder, but then he nodded. "Hey, Deano," he rasped. "It's been a rough night. The flight… he can't breathe in between and I doped him up on grace…"
"It's okay," Dean said gently. "Can I try something? It's a human thing—brains and bodies are funny."
"Yes, yes!" Gabriel nodded eagerly. "Please!"
Dean crouched next to them. He pinched Sam's nose, tilting the boy's head back, and blew firmly into his mouth. Sam's chest expanded and there was an immediate explosion of coughing.
Sam twisted upright in Gabriel's lap, narrowly missing Dean with a fist. "I no like! No! Fuck you!" he gasped as tears began pouring down his cheeks. "That song… song… that song sucks! It had almost fifty verses and I didn't know any of them except that one about the goddamn rings! And what the fuck does twenty-six pied pipers piping mean? Are they playing a flute or an organ or are they smoking a pipe?"
"Whoa dude," Dean said with a laugh. "What kind of magic mushrooms did Gabe give you before you tripped back to Earth, huh? Take a deep breath, Sam. No one's smoking any pipes."
"Almost fifty verses!? You'll have to sing them to me sometime." Gabriel laughed, kissing the boy's forehead despite the angry fists that kept aiming for his face and chest. "Now settle down before you punch your brother. Come on, relax and breathe."
Sam buried his face against Gabriel's shirt and took a ragged breath through his sobs. The archangel just rubbed his back and whispered encouragements to him as the boy slowly calmed down. He did not seem startled by Sam's emotional outburst—but the rest of the onlookers certainly were.
"Is he okay?" Dean whispered.
"Oh, yeah. He's fine." Gabriel nodded. "Just coming down off the grace-rush. Like I said, it's been a rough night. It'll take a while for him to regain his equilibrium—days, maybe a few weeks even."
"Well, I can deal with a weepy Sammy," Dean smirked, running his hands through the boy's hair. "Ain't that right, little brother? We're all about the chick-flick moments in this family."
Sam turned toward him, catching the hunter's hand before it was pulled away. "Dean?" he asked between hiccups.
"Yup."
"Are… are you dead?" Sam blinked several times, trying to clear the tears from his eyes.
"Uh, don't think so. Why? Do I look that bad?"
Sam turned back to Gabriel in confusion. "Are we…?"
"We're back at the bunker, kiddo," Gabriel said softly. "Your mom and Cassie are standing by the fire, waiting for their turn to rush over here and check on you. Dean doesn't wait for turns, of course."
Sam swung his head back toward his brother. "Dean?!"
"That's me!" Dean grinned, leaning down to hug the boy as another round of fresh tears began. "Oh man, we're getting weepy Sam in full-force! It's cool, little bro. You made it home. I'd be weepy too if I had to fucking fly through dimensions. You know me—I don't even like planes!"
"I didn't mean to leave!" Sam cried into Dean's collar.
"Dude, I know. Who plans to fly off in their sleep? No one!" Dean leaned back and wiped his brother's face with his sleeves. "Now, calm down so we can go inside and duct tape you to a bed and get some real sleep, okay?"
"I don't think the duct tape will be necessary," Gabriel laughed. "I'll be keeping him tethered to me for the foreseeable future—especially when he's asleep!"
"I told you'd need one of those kid harnesses." Dean stood up and offered a hand to the archangel who slapped it away with another laugh. "And angel baby gates! The kid fell up a tree on day, like, two or three. We're gonna need to put up some nets or something."
"Oh, that's why we brought Barry! He's our newest guard member." Gabriel stood, wrapping his jacket around Sam again. "Barry, meet the flock! This is Dean. Mary is over by the fire with Castiel, whom you should know already."
Barachiel waved cheerfully at them all. "Father, it feels good to be back on Earth!" he beamed, stomping his feet.
"Oh." Dean did a double take. "You… you're rather peppy, aren't you, for an angel?"
"He's been like that since before I stabbed him," Sam sighed.
"Ahh, so you're the one," Dean said. "I heard about you earlier tonight. You know, it was because of you that I wasn't allowed to stab Zadkiel here!"
"Also, because I wasn't actually trying to take over the bunker," Zadkiel reminded him.
"That's besides the point, nerd!"
The guard remained in the yard as the flock began filing toward the bunker. A few feet into their trek, Dean turned around and frowned. Zadkiel scanned the yard, looking for threats.
"Oh," the hunter said in surprise, "I guess… I forgot you guys stayed out here."
"Yes." Zadkiel grinned. "We find it easiest to plan all our incursions from the treetops where you cannot see us."
Dean scowled. "Well, try harder next time."
"I'll do that. Sleep well, Winchesters." Zadkiel flew to his post with the rest of the guard and watched the flock from up high.
Gabriel is already having to reassure Dean that he will let you come to breakfast, Castiel said as the door shut on the bunker. I believe you have made a new friend.
Zadkiel looked over at Barachiel who was showing his scar to an unimpressed Sariel. I believe there have been a few friends made tonight.
AUTHOR'S
LIFE IS STILL CRAZY...BUT it loooks like I MAY have a place to move to...in the magical land of NARNIA-I mean FLORIDA!
Keep your fingers crossed that transportation works out...I'm packing my shit, packing the cats, learning about gators, and ready for a new start!
Thanks to everyone for all their support and kind words!