Through Glass

Summary: Reverse AU. Gabriel and Castiel Novak know monsters exist. But life gets a whole lot more complicated when Castiel starts getting dreams. And when the Angels start meddling. Why can't anything ever just be simple?

Fandom: Supernatural

Rating: T for language, violence, and minor mature themes.

Warnings: Dark themes. AU. Novak brothers. Unrelated Winchesters.

Genre: Family, Friendship, Angst.

A/N: I saw a picture on tumblr that you may have also seen, of human!Gabe with his guardian angel, Sam. And ideas started flowing like crazy. Maybe I won't abandon this story. I hope not, at least. Hope you like, feel free to leave criticism and suggestions in the reviews. If this is being posted, I'm very confident with my drive. If I don't post for a bit, PM me about getting my butt into gear. It should do the trick ;)

About 2,700 words

Chapter One- The Hermit House

I dreamed I saw St. Augustine
Alive with fiery breath
And I dreamed I was amongst the ones
That put him out to death
Oh, I awoke in anger
So alone and terrified
I put my fingers against the glass
And bowed my head and cried

-Bob Dylan

"I hate to say it, but- well, this sucks," admitted him as he took a few steps of the doorway to the incredibly weather-beaten house. His normally tidy golden-blonde hair was very not so, and streaked with enough dust to make it several shades duller. There was a flush to his cheeks that was noted drily.

"It really doesn't sound like you hate to say it."

His companion was a dark haired man who was quite a bit taller than him, though his face said his years were less. His arms were crossed indignantly as he peered into the house with a confused expression. His brother smirked in response to the accusation.

"You're right. I really don't hate it." He took the sleeve of his sibling's ridiculous trench coat in hand and brought him down the path, away from the house. "So, we burned the bones. Should have taken care of the ghost. Therefore, what is the hag still doing in there?" He patted a hand through his hair, sending up puffs of dust.

His companion sneezed, drawing his sleeve away from the elder's grip. "It could be that we burnt the wrong bones, but I don't think so." His voice was raspy, probably from the overwhelming amount of dust that had just been stirred up while rushing for his life. "More likely, something's still tying her here."

"Then, what?" sighed the man with the dusty hair. "Everyone says she was a hermit. No family, hardly any possessions- and definitely not anything worth holding someone to this god-forsaken rock. The only thing she really had was-" He stumbled over the last part of the sentence, and was joined in by the man in the trench coat as they simultaneously comprehended;

"- the house."

The duo turned slowly back to the desolated shack with expressions of dread.

Their car had been chosen and bought by Castiel, and had been the bane of Gabriel's existence the entire five years they'd owned it. It was a golden '78 Lincoln Continental Mark V, which was truly just a fancy title for "douchemobile". When Gabriel had told Castiel such, the man had just replied with a defensive, "I like it." Gabriel had made a vow to have it wrecked within a week. Now, it appeared they were stuck with it. Though the mileage on the thing would have given most car enthusiasts a heart attack, due to the multitudes of cross country roadtrips the thing had seen.

Gabriel opened the back door and lifted the back seats for a hidden compartment underneath, and drew out two full cans of gasoline and and two lighters. He gave one of each to his brother before closing it back up. The compartment was less likely to be found than any other hiding space on the vehicle, and therefore kept their trips to prison at a minimal.

Castiel sniffed at the canister and wrinkled his nose in displeasure, looking out at the house. Gabriel closed the door and noticed his glance.

"What do you think is our likelihood of getting in and out with no problems at all?" asked the elder Novak, clutching the lighter at the ready and swirling his can of gas thoughtfully. They kept the cans at that ready at all times, which would probably have them labeled as psychopaths long ago if it weren't for the fact they had a wonderfully handy secret compartment to stash them in.

"Better question- what do you think our likelihood is that this will actually work?" Castiel raised an eyebrow pointedly, and Gabriel chuckled in delight.

"Touché!"

The dilapidated building wasn't being called so for light reasons. The place hadn't been entered in at least fifteen years, and it had an extremely severe mold and termite problem. Any mildly severe wind gust would be capable of reducing the building to rubble instantly. Gabriel stepped through first, and even just the weight of his small, lean body was enough to make the floorboards scream with protest, and a noise that sounded like billions of splinters forming underneath his feet. He winced and walked quicker, and when Cas entered he was carefully to avoid the first floorboard, for he was taller and more filled out than his older brother.

"Hurry up and start dousing," commanded Gabriel, even as Cas already began to do so. They tried to make paths of gasoline spread out from every doorway to shattered window as best the could, and the process took about ten minutes. The Novaks met outside the front door and on the porch when done, lighters lit and at the ready.

Gabriel felt his pulse building and thumping loudly in his ears, becoming the loudest sound around. Each second lifted the crescendo, so he took a breath. "Alright, on thr-"

Something heavy crashed into his chest and pushed the air from his lungs with such force that he choked, feeling asphyxiated. He landed hard on the asphalt ground behind him with an audible "oof!", and a coughing fit to go with it. He pushed up at the offending projectile, now identified as the moth eaten armchair from inside. He got it off just in time to watch flames spring up inside. The flames lit his brother's face as Castiel turned around to make sure his brother wasn't dead or anything, and Gabriel got a glimpse of a beautiful but worn woman inside as she screamed, and then vanished in a puff of smoke.

Castiel jumped down the steps and reached down to help Gabriel up. Gabriel lifted an arm, but then gasped in the fury of pain that splintered across his chest. Castiel frowned and supported Gabriel's torso first, instead. "Ribs?"

A breathy half-noise escaped his throat, which the raven haired man assumed meant "yes". Cas felt a tugging at the corners of his lips- it was a pretty comical situation- but he gingerly helped his older brother stand. "To the hospital it is."

"And you say- you say your brother was rammed by a cow?" The doctor gave Castiel a skeptical look, and the man took on a sheepish one of his own. He was never a good liar, and the man had put him on the spot.

"I- I think so, sir. It was dark, I thought it was a cow. But I suppose it could have been something else. A car?

"Uh-Huh..." said Dr. Hunt slowly, the end of his pen held lightly between his teeth. He removed it, and shifted to place his clipboard on his lap. "Alright then. What're your names?"

They were sitting in an office type room adjacent to the one Gabriel had been brought too. Castiel guessed his distraught facade must have paid off, as the doctor had offered to give him assistance with filling out the paperwork. He'd only barely decided to take him up on his offer, after determining it was better to have something to do besides three minutes of paperwork. And talking to a fellow human couldn't be that bad, right?

Apparently he was capable of forgetting the fact he was practically as socially awkward as a man could realistically achieve.

"Richard and James Collins," Castiel supplied after a short moment of hesitation, using their most common aliases. His tone was calmer than it should have been, for a liar. "He's Richard, I'm James."

The doctor made note of that on his paperwork. "Relation?" he questioned, referring to the way Castiel and Gabriel were affiliated. Castiel hummed a tone in his head before deciding the truth could hardly hurt in this situation.

"We're brothers- well, legally. We were both adopted as kids." Castiel crossed his ankles anxiously and leaned forward, with his hands clasped in his lap. Questions made him nervous, which was frankly ridiculous considering how many he dealt with on a daily basis.

"Age?"

"He's twenty-seven." Castiel was twenty-two at the time, best that could be told. He had no birth certificate, though neither did Gabriel for that matter. They'd been dropped at the same orphanage, five years apart, though it wasn't a highly abnormal event.

"Any allergies we should know about?" Dr. Hunt hid a yawn behind his palm, though not his bored expression.

Castiel shrugged. "Not really. Pollen and dust, and dogs, but I doubt that's important." He took on a slight smirk, and his voice turned more conversational than it had been. "Though," he mused, dragging out the word, "he does have a bad reaction to sweets. We've been told it's not serious, but it doesn't do well in his system." He could almost hear Gabriel's cries of anguish, but quick calmed his mischievous side from showing outwardly.

"Alright then, Mr. Collins." Dr. Hunt capped his pen and leaned back, setting the clipboard down lightly on the desk. "Richard fractured two ribs, but they definitely aren't much to fret over; I assure you. We've given him a cast and some pain medications. He should be able to leave tomorrow, and be healed in two months of everything goes smoothly. I suggest you get a hotel room and, er-" he paused, taking on a wry expression. "-avoid any cows."

Castiel nodded solemnly, pretending not to notice the veiled accusation. "Definitely, sir. Thank you."

Dr. Hunt stood up and made to leave, then stopped as though confused and sniffed the air. "Say, do you smell that? It's like gasoline, I think." He looked at Castiel, who made his face one of pure innocence and shrugged.

Gabriel sat on his hospital bed with a disgruntled look on his face when his brother entered that morning. He sent Castiel a distasteful glance.

"You're a cruel, cruel man," he tutted, arms crossed over his chest in a rather pouty fashion for a man nearing the end of his third decade.

Castiel hid a smile and sat down in the chair next to his brother's bed. "They're discharging you this afternoon," he said through a yawn, a reminder neither had slept that night. "I'm sure you'll be able to make up for lost time then."

Gabriel saw the yawn, and was therefore unable to contain one of his own. This did nothing to help his irritation at his brother, or his put-out mood in general. "Get out so I can sleep."

When no answer came, he looked in his brother's direction- but judging by Castiel's slumped form and the head dropped on the side of his bed, it appeared he'd already decided to take a siesta of his own. Gabe gave a huff, but more of affectionate irritation, and settled back for his own bit of shut eye.

A young woman no older than twenty stared down a man of similar age, despite her much shorter height in comparison. She gave a fiendish look by spreading her teeth into something akin to a smile- but no, this wasn't human at all- and slashed at him with knife in hand. The blade came dangerously close to splitting open his jugular, but the man was skilled. He grabbed her hand at the wrist, twisting so she was forced to turn her back to him. He brought her own hand, blade in hand, up against her neck. Tiny droplets of thick, sticky redness welled up, and she struggled like a wild animal for two seconds before, without so much as batting an eye, he drew her blade sharply through her neck.

The scene fizzled more than transitioned into another one, shaky as though this were something unsteady, something new.

Gabriel looked at him and his eyes glowed a brilliant, magnificent blue that shined into what seemed to be his very soul. He got the sense this wasn't truly Gabriel. The being occupying Gabriel, or perhaps the being resembling Gabriel, gave him a curt look. "It's time to talk."

The transition was more abrupt, like the dream was experimenting with its ability.

A glimpse was all he got this time, of a man with a terrifying sort of deadly calmness on his face, coated in red blood and something similar, but sticky and black. The same black color that completely filled his eyes.

And then it was like a switch was flipped, and the frames shot by at an exponentially growing speed. He caught glimpses and sounds but had no opportunity to reflect on them.

A shattered bottle of alcohol. An amulet. "Not yet." Another killing. "Why?" Gabriel laughing. "I'm sorry." Blood dripped down the walls in buckets. "You fault." "I told you." Glowing tablets in familiar writing. Yellow, catlike eyes. "I'm sorry." Lifeless eyes, only too accusatory. "I'm sorry." The blood dripped in heavier quantities, and he could hear it's endless stream. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." The stench of sulfur and the iron of life, making him gag, suffocating him beyond functioning ability. "No, no I'm sorry..."

"Castiel."

A swing swung back and forth, as though just unoccupied. He watched it as though hypnotized, feeling intensely like something was supposed to be there. He stepped forward and grabbed the chain himself to bring it to a halt, and it obeyed the laws of physics just as it should. He couldn't figure out why this upset him. He sat down heavily and extended his knees before lifting his feet from the ground. This playground had an overwhelming sense of familiarity, a sense of safety unlike what he'd felt in many years. He held his trench coat over his arm, and it was this fabric that seemed even more physical than that of the cold chain, or the plastic supporting him from the ground. How curious. He held it to his chest like a child might their favorite toy.

"Cas."

Somehow, he was aware he wasn't alone. But he didn't feel threatened at all. In fact, he felt protected. How nice. Maybe it was Gabriel. After all, he kept hearing his annoying voice over and over again.

"Hey, wake the hell up already."

He glanced over his shoulder, but no- no one there, and certainly not Gabe.

"I said get. Up!"

Cas felt a sudden pressure on his head, but it was calming. The light it radiated was not. It built and built until he was squinting, writhing, shrinking away with genuine fear of being blinded...

Castiel blinked his eyes open with hesitation, fearing the light may still be there- instead, he jumped back in terror at the absurdly close proximity of Gabriel's nose to his, and nearly tumbled out of his chair with the shock of it all. Gabriel laughed with pleasure at that, but quickly took on the manipulatively sullen look he was good at.

"Wakey wakey bro, I want to get checked out and head out."

Cas took a few calming breaths, frowning to himself as much of the memories from his dream faded into nothingness, or subconscious. He blinked a few times to clear his head and wake himself up.

Gabriel crossed his arms, a difficult task with the plaster across his chest. "Hey, you okay? Nightmare maybe?"

Castiel shrugged. "I don't really remember," he admitted, grabbing his trench coat off the chair. He bit his lip in a last ditch attempt to remember, but nothing but feelings came to him. He sighed internally, and nodded at Gabe. "Let's go."

"That's the spirit," laughed the blonde brother, who lead the way from the hospital room with awkward, stiff steps. Cas closed his eyes one more time, but all he saw was painfully bright light. He frowned and opened his eyes, then followed his brother out.