Author's Note: Hello! Thank you if you've reviewed and glad you made it to Chapter 3. Part One of the story is actually done, so I'm going to update once or twice a week from here on out. Take care!

Chapter 3

Castiel

"That is a very old face you're wearing," I say as Gabriel re-enters the room I prepared for him. He'd taken a shower and dressed in clean clothes he'd obviously fashioned for himself, seeing as his vessel is smaller than all the other males in house. I stare at the form, recalling it from before—The Before. Before Lucifer was cast out, before the true fighting amongst the high family began, back when the archangels could be seen together, their energies mingling.

Gabriel and Raphael had liked to visit the Earth and walk among man. I heard they asked Father for a way to do so, and Father created bloodlines that produced man-shells strong enough to house archangels. They came and went as they pleased. Following their example, some of the regular angels took visits, able to claim any human as vessels so long as the vessel agreed.

"His name was Cye," Gabriel says, his voice melodic, "son of Cyrus and Allysiah; Cyrus, son of Farhad; Allysiah, daughter of Laela. Farhad, son of Feroze; Laela, daughter of Minu. All worthy vessels that I loved. I healed them after each possession."

I watch as Gabriel crosses the room to the bed, not offering any words because it might stop him from talking more about himself.

"When I asked Cye for his permission, I told the kid," he sighs, shaking his head with a soft smile. "I told him this won't be like with your parents or grandparents. When I take you, you'll never come back, and he said—he said there was no greater glory than to walk with me and to die with me."

I stare at Gabriel. "And when his human mind did quiet and burn out?"

Gabriel turns to me, his eyes large and tired. "When his soul was ready, I returned to Heaven one last time, to escort him and to make sure his Heaven was everything he wanted it to be. And then, I went into 'witness protection.'"

Gabriel throws himself down on the bed, bouncing a bit and frowning. "This bed kinda sucks. Have those Winchester boys never heard of mattress toppers? Next time we go out, I'm buying some memory foam."

His tone is light, flippant even, but his eyes are bright. I come to the bed, sitting beside him, not sure how he'll take my closeness. Sam and Dean do this when they talk to each other, and they're brothers. Gabriel is that to me, though not in the same way he and the other archangels were brothers. We all have the same Father, but as angels and archangels, we're more like cousins—distant cousins. They ran the house, we vacuumed the floors. The differences in our makeups and power levels is immense. Even drained, I'm sure Gabriel is more than a match for me.

"You never had second thoughts, ever, about coming back?" I ask. "Michael and Raphael would have welcomed you."

Gabriel closes his eyes.

"Even after Lucifer was locked up, you stayed away," I say. "Like you hated us all."

Gabriel breathes carefully, before his eyes open again, sad, the green-gold color seeming to glow from within. "The fighting never really ended, though. And then Dad was gone and things kept changing. And Michael and Raphael, they…I couldn't…" he stops himself, smiling humorlessly. "Do you know what Dad made me for? After He made Michael and Lucifer, His warrior sons, and Raphael, His scholar, He decided to make one more archangel. He didn't need any more warriors and Raphael was smart enough for us all; what He wanted was someone to make Him laugh. He wanted to be entertained, cheered, inspired. I was for laughter and music. Fighting was for Michael and Lucifer, they were the defenders of Heaven. Raphael wasn't made for fighting either. And look where he ended up."

I frown, taking in his words. Gabriel had always been a practical joker, all smiles and carefree attitude. He'd worn multiple, beautiful human faces on Earth and in Heaven, all of them equipped with contagious laughter, infectious grins and melodic voices. Happy—there was a time when Gabriel was never anything less than joyful. Then Lucifer began plotting against God. We saw less and less of Gabriel, until one day he was gone completely and so was God.

Michael and Raphael had thought the worst, and they'd searched. After an epoch, they stopped, as if they'd learned something, seen something. Perhaps, they'd learned what Gabriel had done and gave up on him as he'd given up on us. Or maybe they thought him dead. I don't know the reason why they suddenly stopped their searching, but when they did, Heaven continued to move on without Gabriel, and years later, no one brought him up anymore.

"I don't want to fight, Castiel, and I'm not sorry for that. Every time I came home, from being on Earth, they all wanted me to pick a side. Lucifer wanted me to come to Hell with him, Michael would answer him for me: 'He's not going with you. He's with us.' And then Dad gave me an archangel blade, like Michael's and Lucifer's, and told me I would have to use it. That he'd told Michael to get rid of Lucifer and that Raphael was going to help and so would I. They were all going to fight and someone was going to die," Gabriel says, his voice toneless, but he squeezes his eyes shut and his breathing becomes unsteady. "I couldn't be there. Couldn't watch. Couldn't take part in any of it, because…" He looks at me. "Did you ever love them? Do you?"

"The archangels?" I ask, startled. I don't know. They had been there, they were to be respected for their power, but…

"The angels that you grew up with. The ones you left to join the Winchesters."

A punch in the gut. The ones I left. "It wasn't like that, Gabriel. I asked them to come with me. I told them that our mission was wrong and that we should be helping humans. It's not leaving anyone, if you asked them to come with you and they declined. I was abandoned."

"I asked them to stop fighting, asked Raphael to come with me to Earth. So, by your standards, I was abandoned too."

"You ran out in the middle of a war where a lot of our kind died," I argue. "I was trying to make it better. You were just hiding, because you—"

"Loved the people I was running from?" Gabriel says. "So, maybe that answers my question. You didn't love them."

"I didn't say I didn't love my brethren. I did and do love them, I just don't agree with them. And there are those that I don't claim," I say, my voice as bitter as I feel when I think about the betrayals and savagery that I didn't know some of my people could even fathom.

"I don't renounce anyone," Gabriel says. "You—you've killed other angels."

"Yes," I say. I'm not proud of it, but it was war. They would kill me if they could.

"I haven't," Gabriel says. "I can't. I mean…" his gaze turns apologetic, "maybe I could shiv one of…"

"Me?" I ask. "One of us foot soldiers? The servants?"

Gabriel shrugs. "You don't have to put it that way, but you have to admit we're different. We may call each other brother, but when it comes down to it, we were kept at different levels. My true brothers are Michael, Raphael and Lucifer. We actually interacted with God. When we talk about Dad, it's like we're talking about a different guy. He indulged me. Lucifer was his favorite, but I like to think I was second, and then Michael, because he was a pill, and Raphael was really quiet. Dad seemed sorry to give me a weapon, and was apologetic when He told me what He wanted me to do with it. I…"

A deep sigh. "I haven't ever told anyone this stuff, especially not this, but… the night I left for good? Dad saw me. He saw me and I know He knew. He looked at me for a long time and then He turned and walked down another hall. He didn't try to stop me. He didn't frown. He let me go."

"You think God let you go?" I ask. I stare. Had God let Gabriel defy His Will?

"Like I said, He indulged me," Gabriel says. "If anyone wanted to find me after all those years, He could have. But He let go."

"Do you still feel like you can't kill Lucifer?" I ask. "Do you think you wouldn't be able to help us kill a Michael from another world?"

Gabriel frowns. "A Michael from another world is not my brother."

"Lucifer?" I press.

He looks away.

Great. "Even after all he's done?"

"It doesn't make him any less my brother, Castiel. I hope no one ever asks me to," Gabriel whispers. "And this fight—with him and another Michael? This time, I don't have a choice. I have to join in. It's all gone way too far and I won't be able to get back to doing my thing with Lucifer and crazy Other World Michael out there ready to destroy the world. I run and I run, but I never get far enough away, do I?"

I'm silent as he rolls onto his side, shivering as if he's cold.

"Would you like a blanket?" I ask after a beat.

"Yeah." Gabriel's voice is soft. "I'm freezing. These feelings are weird: hot and cold, hunger, weariness, achiness. It's like some human plague. I don't know how they put up with all these annoyances."

I find an extra blanket in the room's closet and throw it over Gabriel's thin body, watching him cocoon himself. The shivering slows but doesn't stop.

"You said Lucifer was low on grace when you two were together," Gabriel murmurs. "Tell me, what did it seem like for him? To be low? Did he—was he more human?"

"More human?" I raise a brow. "Well, he did try to kill me and take my grace, because he was weak."

Gabriel winces.

"He was tired after using his powers, and needed to sit and catch his breath," I say.

Gabriel nods. "But there's no chance he's still that weak now. Not with angels out there for him to steal grace from."

"Right," I say. I tilt my head, studying the archangel before me. "If Lucifer can gain power in that way and speed his grace recovery, so could you." If I offer some of my grace to Gabriel…

"No." Gabriel's voice is flat. "That's disgusting."

"I've…" taken grace from others, but I'd needed it, and those others were out to destroy me.

"I won't feed on my own kind," the archangel sounds sick.

"If we offer…"

"No." His words have a ring of finality to them. "Not ever."

A moment of silence.

"If you want to offer me something I'll take, I wouldn't turn down liquor."

I blink at the cocooned archangel who hasn't tried to sit up or roll over, yet he wants an alcoholic beverage.

"In your present state," I begin, "you might become inebriated."

"That's what I'm going for."

There's more silence.

"Gabriel?"

"Yeah?"

Because no one's said it, and I think it needs to be said to him, especially after hearing what he claims he's never told anyone else. "I'm sorry."

He rolls onto his back so that he can stare up at me, eyes glistening. "So am I."

"Is there anything I can do to make it better?" I ask.

Gabriel bites his lip, Adam's apple trembling. "I don't think there's anything anyone can do at this point." More quiet, and then, "But thanks anyway… brother."

Gabriel turns back on his side, pulling the blankets over his head. His breathing slows, becoming deep and even. Asleep, then. I pat his shoulder and get to my feet. I'm slow to leave the room, standing in the doorway for moments longer before turning off the lights and leaving Gabriel alone in the dark.

"Goodnight…brother."

Author's Note: Thank you for reading. Please review!