Title: Freely they stood who stood, and fell who fell

Disclaimer: not my characters. title from Milton.

Warnings: spoilers for season four; possibly AU for angelic mythology

Pairings: vaguely implied Castiel/Dean

Rating: PG

Wordcount: 600

Point of view: third

He looked at me with no fear, Michael. No matter what lies twisted within him, he is yet a man. How can this be? Uriel's voice is full of confusion, his face young-seeming.

Michael stares long at him, wondering how to answer. Uriel is one of his own, an Arch—a purifier and a destroyer, a punisher of men. Even the least-knowing, blindest of humans would turn from him in apprehension.

Michael finally speaks when Uriel has begun to fidget. He met Lilith face-to-face and survived. After that, not much would frighten a body.

But I am of the Lord! Uriel argues, indignation stealing him of courtesy. I am no base demon, to be looked at without wonderment and fear!

Does Castiel feel so? Michael asks, after giving Uriel a moment to repent his rudeness.

I no longer understand Castiel, Uriel says quietly. He has… changed. He touched the tainted human, and… Uriel pauses, lowering his gaze from Michael.

And what, Uriel? he asks gently. He already knows, felt it the moment Castiel strayed, but Uriel must comprehend for himself.

I believe he looked at the brother with lust, Michael. Distress colors the words as he asks, But that cannot be, can it? He is ours, one of us. He knows better.

Michael sighs. Castiel is still ours, he answers. But he has strayed slightly from the path. Michael rests one hand on Uriel's shoulder. I need you to watch over Castiel, to keep him from straying any further.

As you command, Uriel replies, bowing his head and taking to the air.

Do you think that will be enough? Gabriel asks, settling next to him.

It is in Our Father's hands, Michael murmurs. Castiel still has time to repent.

Gabriel looks at him; Michael sees pity on his face. I met the brother, that soul taken from Hell at Jehovah's command.

Gabriel! Michael hisses, shocked at his brother's daring to speak the Lord's holy name.

Gabriel continues, uncaring, I fought a thousand demons to ensure Castiel's success. I met that soul, Michael. I have only met a single soul like his in all my existence, when I spoke to a virgin maid.

Michael stares at him. Gabriel smiles sadly, looking out over Heaven. Yes, it is in Father's hands, he says. But I doubt that Castiel will repent.

Neither of them, Michael begins, searching for the words. Neither of them fear us.

Dean did, Gabriel tells him. Until he met Uriel. Now, he holds no fear or respect for our kind at all.

And Samuel? Michael asks, nearly choking on the name.

Samuel… Gabriel thinks for a moment and Michael waits impatiently. He is the highest of all angels, commander of the Arch. He should know anything Gabriel does, and it bothers him that he does not.

He prayed, Michael. He prayed every day. Now, he prays no more because he met what he'd been praying to. Gabriel looks him in the eye. No, Michael. He feels no fear of us, or of Our Maker.

They stand in silence, the two highest, on Heaven's perfect street. It is beautiful, marvelous, the truest pinnacle of creation—Michael cannot comprehend wanting more.

Gabriel murmurs softly, Sammael nearly pulled you down with him.

Michael flinches. It has been eons since he thought of that day. Yes, he answers. Our Maker saved me.

Have you ever pondered what would be now if He hadn't? Michael flicks a glance at Gabriel, but his brother continues staring at Heaven.

You skirt danger, Gabriel, Michael tells him.

Gabriel smiles, replying only, I have met that soul.