Okay, so I haven't had cable for a week and haven't been able to watch Supernatural. On the other hand, I just made the first chapter of the prequel, the second chapter of a story for my friend, a prompt for an Avengers fic and started another SP fic. Week fulfilled? I think so. Here's another mini story. It's some bad memories and some adorable parts with Cas comforting his big brother.

Disclaimer: Still very much broke and jobless. Don't own SP.

Chapter 18: If Feathers Were Wishes

It was quiet. For once, there was no hunt to go on and nobody to risk life and limb for only to be driven from the town. It just was. The boys were sitting with Bobby drinking beer and reminiscing about the days when their innocence still had the illusion of being intact. Dean was quiet on that subject but allowed his brother the freedom of telling the early years to Cassie, even though he was their guardian angel and already knew. The truth was, Dean had only had four years of innocence and it all ended in the heat of fire and the screams of a mother begging for the very lives of her family. Sam, though…he was lucky. People loved him enough to keep secrets about what went bump in the night until he could find out for himself. Seven years of good luck and he considered it terrible just because he had to move away from his friends.

Dean knew. Four years old and learning to shoot a gun in order to keep his precious baby brother safe from the thing that killed his mommy. Castiel knew. As soon as he turned old enough to hold a sword, Gabriel had taught him as best as he could on how to use it. Steel would be the only way to face what was coming. Words be damned. And Gabriel? He had always known. Not because of who he was or what he was capable of, but how he was raised. Alone. Lost in the brightness of Heaven where no one bothered to look. Misplaced in the very sanctuary that the holy men dreamed of reaching, where utter perfection was as blissfully certain as angels having wings.

It wasn't. Heaven was full of tension and mistrust and just as imperfect as Earth, itself. Gabriel would know. For centuries, he had faced it alone without a mentor to guide him or friends to distract him from the stark abyss of loneliness that formed over time. He was always the strange one, the fledgling staring into the shimmering stars without an emotion to show for it. The one to face Death when he came calling and run with the wild Hounds as if he were one. They didn't understand until someone told them that he was special. Some of his brothers still didn't. Castiel didn't count, since he had raised the fluffy winged little bastard from a fledgling. Cassie knew everything about him.

Grabbing a beer from the fridge, he absently grabbed a knife and waltzed into the bathroom. Gabriel turned his back to the mirror and started to cut the sigils into his back. After recently getting word of the Pagans following his trail, he knew it was time for a new look. What better look than the one nobody saw? Ancient Enochian words of power pulsed with golden light to the thrum of his grace as he turned his face to the mirror and watched the trickster Loki's body change. From the former stature, it became about 6'1 and the skin on his face stretched taught to cover an angular bone structure. Slender muscles formed on the former body of Loki Laufeysson and turned the figure in the mirror into a teenage boy with a long braid of golden hair and endless amber eyes. Long lashes brushed over his cheek and a single tattoo-like sigil burned to his arm. Finally, six golden wings with their feathers in disarray burst into being with a shower of golden sparks. They remained carefully tucked against his back.

There was a reason for his madness. Grabbing the beer and taking a swig as he walked, the archangel bounced into the living room to a lively beat. He was met with quickly drawn guns and an angel blade under his chin. Wary of his little brother, Gabriel drawled, "Where's the love, Cassie? Easy, knuckleheads. It's just me. I wanted to play a game and since I'm not especially fond of shooting birds, my wings will have to do."

One look at his wings brought Castiel into a frenzy. Shoving him into a chair, he began absently running fingers though one of them. Gabriel held out three others and murmured, "It's a fledgling game called 'If Feathers Were Wishes.' Each molting fledgling would groom one wing and the first to have a feather fall out has to ask a question. Everyone has to answer and make a wish related to that question. For instance, Uriel and I played a round with Raphael and the bastard actually asked if I could see the future. I told him the answer, which is no, and wished he could see it. Cassie played it with me when he was starting to shed feathers and he said it was the dullest, most embarrassing game he had ever played. So, what say you? I need a grooming anyways."

Amazingly, they agreed. They were extremely wary about taking hold of the massive appendages but once they did, he was pretty sure Bobby wanted to pluck off all of his feathers to make a quilt or something. After a quick grooming lesson from Castiel, the incredibly strange and slightly painful, in the case of Dean's version of grooming, the game commenced. Sam was the first one to find a feather. Holding the incredibly long and silky cream-and-gold feather between his fingers, he put on his thinking face and asked, "Um…how old are you? I'm twenty-six."

"That was weak, Samantha," Dean snorted derisively. "Thirty."

"None of your goddamn business," Grumbled Bobby. At a look from Gabriel promising severe embarrassment should he decline to answer, he sighed and muttered, "Oh, balls! Let's see…I was two years older than John and ten years older than Jim, so about…fifty-six, give or take a couple of years?" At the archangel's happy grin he breathed something in Chinese under his breath only to have his annoyance speak cheerfully in the exact same context. The old hunter just put his head in his hands and muttered, "I shoulda known."

Ignoring everyone else, Castiel thought for a second and replied, "Around four million years old. I was created around two billion years after the first fish took a breath of air, since I remember Gabriel took me to see it and then accidentally stepped on it. It was two hundred and fifty thousand years before the fall, so that is an accurate estimate."

"Twenty-seven billion, eight hundred million, two thousand one hundred and seventy-two years old," Gabriel answered promptly. Turning to Castiel awkwardly because of his wings, the angel whined, "I did not step on the fish! You pushed me when a volcano erupted two yards behind you and you suddenly decided you wanted to hide in my wings. Therefore, it was your fault the amphibian people never took off. Besides, there was another one right behind it."

"Gabriel," Castiel murmured with as much patience as he could. "The fish behind it was not a fish. It was a piece of coral shaped like a fish that you changed the currents to get to shore just in case Father was watching. I did not push you, as I was only about three pounds and couldn't move you if I tried. Also, there were never going to be any amphibious species of semi-humans or else the mammals wouldn't have stood any semblance of a chance. I have seen the 'Creature from the Black Lagoon' and the probability of the creature killing and eating many other life forms was too high. Therefore, Father would not have made them."

"He made vampires, didn't he?" Gabriel said sullenly. Before an answer could be said, he made a swishing motion with his finger and shut his little brother's mouth temporarily. Bobby held up a shorter feather than the one Sam had chosen, this one probably from the curve of his wings. Interrupting the human, he exclaimed, "No one made a wish!"

Grumbling, they did as they were told. Dean wished he could forget the years he spent in Hell which made the angels feel both guilty and charitable. Unfortunately there was nothing they could do that wouldn't cause brain damage,like the wall in Sam's mind, or outright kill him. Gabriel was still willing to try, but was quickly voted down. With or without the brain damage, he'd be exactly the same. Bobby wished he could remember his wife's face from all those years ago when she wasn't a zombie or possessed. That, Gabriel could do. As they watched, the feather darkened brightened slightly and images moved blurrily across it. "Whenever you want to remember, pick up the feather. Also, it gives a pretty damn good boost to any coffee you might have in the morning. Makes it strong enough to kill an elephant, or maybe even a native New Yorker."

Sam wished he hadn't taken for granted his family and there wasn't a flying shit he could do for that. Of course, they had the same problem. He had forsaken his family and now maybe three quarters of the angels he'd grown up with or taught over the many centuries of his lifetime were dead or fallen. He stayed quiet for a second then let Castiel speak. The angel of Thursday promptly said, "I regret not listening to Gabriel when he tried to tell me that there was more to life than just flying and fighting. The only consolation is that I was a fledgling and was too busy playing with the Hounds to take any notice of his words. They were the last words he said to me before leaving Heaven."

That…there were no words to say to that. Berating himself for the tears blurring his vision he murmured in what he hoped was a steady voice, "Alright, Singer. Your turn."

Voice gruff and no nonsense, he asked, "Alright, ya eedjits. Who do ya remember that ain't walkin' this Earth anymore? My wife, obviously."

This was turning out to be the worst game Gabriel had ever played. The fledglings asked humorous questions, not ones designed to dig up deep dark memories from the pit they'd been buried in because they were too dismal to face! All of the brothers and sisters he had lost, the Father that had abandoned them to their fates and a single fledgling that became the angel of hope who was slowly dying. Dean answered first. "Mom. She was the first person I saw die that brought home how easy it was to lose to something stronger than you. She's the one who made me promise to look after Sam."

"Jess. I was going to propose to her before Dean dragged me out of college. I regret that she died but not that I left, if that makes any sense." Sam was reluctant on this question and it was easy to see he was wishing he could have known his mother better. "I guess it was better than dragging her into Hunting."

Castiel was quiet when he answered. "Anna. My senior officer in combat and my first friend. She betrayed Heaven to follow her heart and was tormented because of it. Although she turned her back on the good in life, I cannot fault her."

Gabriel couldn't answer. Instead, he said weakly, "Skip the question?"

The look he got from Dean was part disgust, part triumph. "I knew it! I knew you wouldn't get close enough to anyone to miss them. You're a bastard, you know that?"

The horror on Sam's face was laughable if he wasn't completely and utterly pissed off. The wings on his back went from soft and fluffy to a metal substance stronger and sharper than steel. Sam hissed in pain as the feather he was running over his hand cut deeply into his skin and brought blood bubbling to the surface. An oceanic roar filled the air, water trickled from places where there were no holes and thunder crashed as Gabriel's bright eyes turned to a stormy black. Dean stepped back warily but not before a heavy wing flung out and sent him into a wall. Ignoring the grace and weapons being flung at him, he pushed Dean against the wall with an elbow to his throat and crooned dangerously, "Do you want to know who I've lost, Winchester?"

"Damael, Champael, Aziraphael, Attenifor, Raguel, Lucifer, Uriel, Hopaliel, Irkianel, Salizien, Arkaniel, Caranwael, Soliel, Samael, Girael, Rifkaleal, Kipakiel, Istabael, Amael, Lossarael. All were lost in a fight with a creature more hideous than any demon, any monster you have ever faced. God willing, you won't ever have to. Every single one of them had their grace swallowed slowly and painfully as it was siphoned from their very bodies until they were nothing but husks. Finally, there were only five archangels in he world and each and every one of my dead brothers and sisters were forgotten. Nobody remembered the ones who saved their very lives and gave theirs. Tell me, Dean, have you ever seen a single mention of Samael? They call him the angel of Death but he wasn't the horseman. They remember him as a traitor. Did you know he sacrificed himself? He volunteered to be killed to be with his brother Champael. I can only hope he died when we shoved him in with those creatures." Letting go of Dean and watching him drop to the floor, he spun on his heel and walked away.

Castiel followed. Snarling under his breath, the archangel whipped around to tell him off but before a single word could come from his throat, Castiel had his arms around him. Gabriel was speechless as a hand brushed against his feathers, asking him to settle. After an awkward heartbeat, he did. The golden and cream wings dropped with a heavy thump to the ground just like the archangel they belonged to. Castiel crouched beside him and began straightening his feathers with careful fingers. The silence was comfortable and oddly enough, Gabriel had no wish to break it. His wings rustled in the breeze with singing birds in the dark of the night and the chirping of crickets, keeping time with the heartbeat of the world.

With one pair free of broken and dirty feathers, Gabriel cut the silence. "I'm sorry." Seeing the patient look on his fledgling's face, he continued. "The game isn't meant to be serious. Thorn-in-my-side one, two and especially three made it a whole lot more serious than it was supposed to be. After all the hunts and stress, I just…thought a stupid kid's game would let them relax. So, I'm sorry I even brought it up."

Castiel sighed softly and murmured, "Gabriel, it was good of you to try but the Winchesters were never children. They can't put up a front like you and pretend everything will work out. You have no need to be sorry."

Absently leaning against his little brother made Gabriel sigh. "Remember when I took you to the 21st century when you were a fledgling? With the baby bird and the mother with a broken wing?"

"If you mean the time you went and ate a candy store out of business, then yes. After we left the store there was a single baby bird in a nest being attacked by a crow. The mother already had a broken wing and was still trying to protect her little one. You drove the predator away and when you went to help her, she scratched you deep enough to see bone and tried to fly her baby to the nest. What did you say to her, anyways?"

"I told her that I was raising a fledgling of my own and even though I was trying, everything that happened to him felt like a hammer to the chest. That whenever I lost sight of him I went on a warpath through Heaven to try and find him because someday, he would be the only thing I had left. Finally, I told that stupid pigeon that someday I would give my life to save one of the only good things that ever happened to me. Personally, I think she got tired of me and allowed me to fix her wing just to get rid of me but who knows?"

Another pair of wings clean. Castiel smiled slightly when he found the scar stretching from mid-wing to nearly four feet towards the tip. It was only a white line now but it still carried memories. "Brother, speaking of warpath, remember this scar?"

Snorting, he answered, "You mean the time when little Tanaziel told you your wings were too tiny to ever fly with and you pulled a runner on me? I think I'm the only angel in history to nearly have an aneurysm and a heart attack all at the same time. Kid, you scared the shit out of me. And why the hell didn't you run from that fucking demon? If I hadn't gotten there in time you wouldn't have a head or your 'little butterfly wings'! Why did you bring it up, anyways?"

"It was the first time I realized you really would die to protect me as well as the realization that you were not indestructible."

Flashback (full story in prequel)

Castiel stared frozen at the massive cloven hoof nearly half of his height. Swallowing hard, he started to back away and ducked as a sword two times his own height gleaming a wicked and poisonous black was swung straight for his head. A tiny whimper escaped his throat and he knew he had to be brave like Gabe when he left to give his messages. Eyes hardening in resolve, he turned his back to run and realized a split second later just how terrible an idea it had been. A heavy fist slammed against his back with enough force to bring an audible crack ringing through the air. Now stuck on the ground and in amazing amounts of pain, the six year old Castiel let out a terrified wail.

The sword came for him and was met with twin blades of glowing gold with wicked curves. Gabriel, without armor or backup, was pure power as he snarled and struck repeatedly against the giant even taller than he was. Castiel huddled against the clouds and watched in awe as his unstoppable big brother parried and ducked all while leading the demon away from his fledgling. Only after they were fifty feet away did he start fighting in earnest. As did the demon, with three more to join him in the fight. Gabriel held his own and killed one demon with a strong blow to the head, leaving the giant and his twin. Michael's garrison broke his view as they surrounded the marauders and he was quickly carried away, but not before he heard his mentor scream.

Try as he might, the young angel carrying him couldn't hold him. Castiel ran back to the field and cried in fear when he took in the sight.

Gabriel wasn't limp in their brother's arms. Instead, he thrashed and screamed in pain when Raphael got anywhere near him. Michael was stroking his hair and was too distracted by feeding his grace slowly into the wound that he didn't notice the fledgling, who was small for his age, rocketing forward until it was too late. Castiel burrowed himself into the crook of his big brother's neck and wailed in terror. Michael made the mistake of trying to pry the fledgling away and was blasted back by a burst of golden grace before he could even touch him. The ruined wing and it's five companions wrapped tightly around their owner's baby brother and cradled him back and forth as Gabriel buried his face in Castiel's hair. Shaking from the poison, he choked, "N-never run away…ever."

The grace Michael gave him did more harm than good and the only one allowed to even touch him was Castiel. Therefore, Raphael gave him the solemn task of changing the poultice and bandages on both the wound in his wing and the weeping whip marks on his arm. It made him guilty that he had come away with only a snapped bone in his fluffy fledgling wings. He'd heard Raphael say that Gabriel might never be able to fly again if he lived through the poison. If the messenger couldn't fly…

But he did. Castiel stayed with him night and day and fussed over him with the Archangels. And he got stronger. After three weeks Gabriel was allowed to try flying with Raphael's supervision and he was to help his mentor flex and tuck the injured appendage. For three weeks, he was the caretaker and he knew now how much his brother would have given up for him.

End Flashback

The final set of wings were ordered neatly and shone faintly under the moonlight. Gabriel suddenly flung them backwards in a strange parody of a hug that brought back better memories than bloodshed. Castiel smiled and then howled in protest as he was whipped around with his back to Gabriel instead of the other way around. As the long fingers worked steadily through his own single set of wings, Dean cleared his voice. They had both known he was standing there for at least the past hour listening to them talk, since he wasn't exactly the quietest when gravel was involved. Gabriel turned to look at him, then sighed and muttered, "Go ahead and say it, Winchester. I'm a coward."

Ignoring the comment, Dean said, "I uh, understand now. Why you wouldn't fight. The only way you could have won would be if you killed one brother or the others. Not to mention all the ones in between. Me, I couldn't do that. I couldn't choose Sam's side or dad's when they got into fights over the stupidest stuff. What music they should listen to, what to make for supper…weird shit like that. I only care for about three people in this world and if all of them were in danger of one another, I couldn't imagine hurting either-or. So…sorry."

An apology. From Dean Winchester. Along with a mini speech. Gabriel couldn't help it. He threw back his head and laughed way too hard to fit the situation. Dean smirked at him laughing in the dirt until suddenly, he was covered head to toe in mud. Spitting some out of his mouth, he turned when more familiar laughter drifted to his ears. Sam, with Bobby barely repressing a snicker. Scooping up a ball of muck, he threw it straight at his brother's face and burst into hysterics seconds later. It was three hours before sunrise when they got to bed and left a perfectly clean and hugely grinning archangel, who'd known all along that all they needed was a stupid kids game. Mud wrestling would have to do. And if Gabriel was carrying a speckled feather, well, they were pretty damn soft.

It be a big one. As promised, there is more fluff although Dean might have been way out of character. Review, my lovelies, and we shall see how long the next one will be.