I suck.
Disclaimer: Don't own much of anything, really. I'm flat broke. Can't afford a lawyer, so I don't own SPN.
Chapter 29: Second Childhood
All was surprisingly peaceful.
After the incidents of the previous week, Michael was glad to just have his entire body covered in little fledgling and cats, with a hint of wolf thrown in for good measure. He was absolutely thrilled that his Grace was being cut off by hundreds of pounds of soul made solid, while simultaneously being gagged by a feathery appendage that had been aggressively shoved into his mouth just ten minutes prior. He loath-er, loved how Balthazar just stood there, somehow getting reception on his iPhone 5 and taking blackmail photos of Heaven's mighty commander being snuggled like a teddy bear. And where were Raphael and Ariella during all of this? They were further into the nest, happily abandoned by the brood that were currently surrounding (re: on top of) their eldest brother.
Gabriel and Lucifer themselves were not so heavy as to cause any kind of discomfort. Of course, then the fledglings, who had apparently lost their adult capabilities of retaining heat, shivered, and suddenly he was on the bottom of a puppy pile. One that he had no hope in Hell of getting out of without being mauled by an angry and very territorial cat. Sighing, he relaxed his muscles and let his head loll to the side so he could watch the sunrise. One week and there had still been no change in his brothers. Every time the sun started glowing, Raphael would measure them for any kind of change and so far, there had been nothing. No, worse than that. Lucifer was actually still shrinking. He had stopped just a few hours ago and prompted the creation of this monstrosity that he was now a part off.
Someone sighed off in the corner of the nest. Straining to raise his head, he met the amused eyes of Aziraphael and pled, "Brother, please! Take at least one of them so that I can get up. And perhaps the cats, as well. The wolves are better trained."
The Seraph looked at him and said musingly, "Well, I suppose I could take Lucifer off of your hands. Some of his old garrison have been wanting to see the little devil. No pun intended. But in exchange, you must do something for me."
"Anything….within reason, that is."
"Okay. Get me Monty Python and the Holy Grail."
"…what."
"Teseraph saw it once when he was on earth and apparently, it's not half bad. Actually, the movie quality is horrible, the effects are cheap and the opening lasts forever but it's a comedy. And everybody needs to hear a joke that doesn't end in-"
"God. Yes, yes, I know. We are all lacking in humor. But really? You want me to fly down to earth, find a copy of the movie, a VCR, a television and a remote just for taking one of these hell beasts off of my chest?"
"Yes."
"…deal."
And that is how Monty Python ended up in Heaven's movie case. Wriggling free of his lightened load, he managed to stuff Gabriel into one of his wings and take off before any of the creatures were awake enough to notice. Lucifer remained blissfully unaware that his caretaker had promptly abandoned him for greener pastures and simply curled up closer to the replacement. The orgy of animals was summarily broken up as they followed their respective masters at a reasonable pace, sprinting through Heaven and making it seem as though Michael were kidnapping the fledgling and was about to dispose of him. The look in their eyes said as much, so he didn't stop until he was a few good yards ahead of them. He then turned is a series of zigzags, said a prayer and landed.
And that was a basic summary of every day for the past God-it's-been-too-long week.
Every day with the crushing, the running, the crying and the blackmail. Every day waiting for something to finally change so that they could all move on with their lives and put the past behind them. Gabriel, now awake, laughed from his plush cage. Michael sighed. Yeah, even he didn't think it would happen. The baby gurgles suddenly became confused and slightly panicked. A startled shriek was enough for Michael to whip open his wing and scoop out the fledgling. The growing fledgling.
Staring at Gabriel, he first noticed that the down was starting to fall off of his wings. It went slowly, but soon there was a mass of golden fluff on his feet and already ruined robes. The hair grew longer and thicker, with more gold in it now than blonde. It also migrated to cover his face completely, so after it finished growing out Michael just pulled it into a semi-neat braid. Feathery appendages grew a couple of inches. A thought then occurred to him; fingers creeping up the fledgling's back, he felt a couple of spaces between his shoulder blades. The powerful wail went on for what seemed like an eternity so he had to conclude that Gabriel's other pair of wings were going to grow in after he hit the point of angelic puberty. Joy.
Muffling his sigh with a palm on his face, he scooped his brother back into his wing and took off back towards the Pantheon. The animals had all dispersed, thank Father. He wasn't in the mood for being mauled by several different species of animals up to and including the platypus. Thankfully, Raphael was there with his measuring tape and scales ready to receive a sniffling fledgling. He took one look, raised both eyebrows and frowned. "I assume you had something to do with this? Possibly by poking him somewhere where it should have been obvious that it would cause great pain?"
Yeah. Now that he thought about it, it wasn't such a good idea. He cringed at the thought of what Lucifer would have done to him. Then cringed further when he realized that Lucifer was going to have to grow out his extra pairs of wings as well. It was something he hadn't had to do the first time around, but then Death visited and told Father that with great power should come great responsibility as well as suffering to insure that power wouldn't be used for something catastrophic. Like blowing up all of the known universe. So after that, all angels with more than one pair of wings went through what humans like to call 'puberty'. They didn't get pimples or things like that, but their voices got an extra echo or ten depending on the rank, so singing might be a bit awkward up until they got used to that. Michael shuddered. Lucifer wasn't a particularly good singer to begin with.
He was abruptly given an angry thwap on the head by a slightly larger fuzzy wing and was gifted with indignant squawks that sounded almost like words, if one were to mentally add a few syllables and such. Eyeing his brother in trepidation, he turned to Raphael and opened his mouth. Before he could say anything, he was cut off. "No, I will not take him off of your hands. I have my own tribulations to take care of without stopping every three patients to halt his sniveling. Do you have any idea of how much of a mess my incompetent healers have made since I stepped out? Father, there must be thousands of angels with improperly set wing bones, coughing fledglings developing the plague and sword wounds caused by improper technique! Do you know how long it's going to take to fix this?"
Michael was already half-way across the Pantheon with a contented fledgling suckling on his flight feathers.
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In another part of Heaven, Aziraphael was severely regretting his decision to take a baby Lucifer with him, even if it did win him Monty Python. The little devil wouldn't stop crying for Michael. He was starting to wonder what he felt like more; a kidnapper or a pedophile. Glancing at where Lucifer's toga should have been three seconds ago, he smacked a hand to his face and sighed. It was in a tree. Not on his body, but on a poor delicate little peach tree that was silently laughing at his misery. He had never liked peaches anyways.
Lucifer had just had the same growth spurt as Gabriel, only he had started to grow faster. He assumed it was because Lucifer had more catching up to do, since he was the elder. The fledgling was standing at his hip and rubbing at his teary eyes, hiccupping and whining like a toddler who missed nap time. If he was going to be honest, it was almost adorable if not for the fact he had been witness to the worst tantrum imaginable.
Finally, he gave up on Michael. He then unfortunately started to cry for his daddy. And when Lucifer cried this time, they weren't the tears of a simple tantrum. It was the cry of a child who had just lost his world, the center of his very being, without even knowing it was there until it was ripped away. Like a seven year old asking in complete innocence why fluffy wasn't coming back from the vet. Aziraphael whimpered in despair.
Help came in the form of an angel with firm, yet tender eyes carrying a petite cat and some catnip. The Bengal was quick to twine himself around the baby's body, rumbling up a storm and soothing with a scratchy tongue. Joshua turned to him and murmured kindly, "It is best to leave him to either Michael or his Pride at this point. There is nothing anyone can do when he gets like this except wait out the storm." He turned away to pick up the tearful fledgling and the cat. "Come with me. The garden is full of chamomile and the roses have finally bloomed. They have always loved the presence of the Morningstar and he will be glad of their comfort."
Breathing a sigh of relief, Aziraphael followed.
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Michael relaxed in a palm tree, calmly handing over candied dates to his baby brother and watching in bemusement as they disappeared down his gullet. The soft coos that followed were worth the sticky coating of sugar that remained on every part of him after several sticky kisses and snuggles. He sighed and relaxed further when the song of the Seraphim, soft and sweet, began to call to the dawn. Ever since God had left, the song had been hesitant, almost nonexistent in even its entirety. So many of them had fallen that the chorus had broken for many centuries after the Fall from heartbreak and despair. Only now after the return of the Archangels and the voice of God had they returned to their harmony. However, there were still so many voices missing.
Scooping up Gabriel, he made his meandering way over to the plains where several angels were gathered to sing their praises. But not nearly enough. Sighing sadly, he counted the faces of those he had known from before his battle with Lucifer and could find only three. Seraphael himself, Dimirael and Sakrael. They bowed their heads slightly in acknowledgement but didn't meet his eyes. What had become of the rest of the choir had fallen fast into legend, nothing more than a fearsome story to scare fledglings into behaving. Of all the Seraphim, they had suffered the most.
They had been called Watchers. The Seraphim had gazed through the clouds shrouding mankind from their sights and had seen carnage. However, they weren't disgusted. They became intrigued and concerned about the little specks they has seen from afar. So after a good deal of arguing, a piece of Grace from each had been taken and from it, the Grigori were formed. Michael had contributed, as well, creating a few of his own to serve as protectors to the peaceful Watchers. Gabriel, though….
He became obsessed.
He created his Grigori out of love and worry, so they became healers. He watched over them watching over the humans like a parent, constantly preening and praising them for their actions. And they did well, truly. They fit into human life just as well as Gabriel did now.
Gabriel's children were the first to fall.
They were made of love and worry and so, wanted to taste the same love that had created them. They wanted to care for someone more than what their restrictions allowed and so, they wanted freedom. Something which could never be given to any angel, let alone those carrying the Grace of an Archangel. So the Grigori sinned. They drank, fought, envied, lusted, raged and grew arrogant of their power. They had children with mortals, and watched them grow and grow and grow into monsters. They rebelled against Heaven and all that it stood for and they still had the protection of Gabriel, right until the moment he had Uriel drown the entire settlement.
Admittedly, not one of his best moments but he had hoped for forgiveness. Which was so far out of sight even after all these years that he was wondering whether or not the Grigori had taken Gabriel's joy with them. It had certainly taken pieces of the Seraphim. Some couldn't bear to sing again while others lost track of their being, and retreated into the emotionally painless world of paperwork.
He sighed and banished his guilt. It didn't matter now; what is done cannot be undone. Or at least not without consequences. Gabriel was holding out his arms imperiously and cooing to be held by Seraphiel, so he plopped him unceremoniously into the choirmaster's arms. The golden eyes watched him keenly before turning away dismissively. As he walked away, Michael could hear the owner of those golden eyes' equally golden tone as the fledgling raised his voice and sang. Smiling slightly at the sound, he watched all of Heaven flourished as the raised voices called home the lost and weary. He stopped and waited to hear Seraphiel.
Seraphiel's voice hadn't been heard in millennia.
For only a second, the voices faltered but then a new one was added. All around the glades, the duet of Holy Messenger and Choirmaster was heard, warming the leaves of plants and trees and caressing as gently as a breeze. Michael smiled. The tune was as beautiful as it was ancient, sung in a dialect that not many understood anymore.
He decided it was time to find Lucifer. But there was something he had to do, first. Michael did not open his wings and fly, instead walking steadily to the east where the Pantheon stood. A small bush blazed steadily while the leaves stayed green. He stopped momentarily to brush a hand through the fire and bring it to his face. Next came a small pool of water, which he sprinkled over his heart but didn't drink. He cupped some in his hands and brought it to a small tree. At the first touch of water, it grew steadily and produced a single peach, just as flawed as any on earth. Michael smiled before feeding it to a tiny bat that squeaked as it licked the juice off of his fingers.
An owl flew down then, gazing at him with questioning eyes. It tilted its head this way and that before finally taking off. An opening formed in the earth and, with a covert glance around, he descended into the dark. Candles lit upon his entrance and upon reaching the bottom, he came upon a cloth-covered object. Michael hesitantly pulled it back to reveal a softly colored harp, golden in some lights and rainbow in others. He plucked a string, creating a perfect B sharp. Breathing out a sigh, he lifted it in his arms. It was child sized, a relic from his fledgling years. The only thing that could sooth Lucifer to sleep.
Quietly, in his little grotto, he played his harp to the melody of Gabriel and Seraphiel, mouthing the words as his fingers stroked the strings. A complicated harmony flowed from the instrument and far off, the wailing of a child stopped. He suddenly had a young fledgling on his lap, peering at his from beneath a mop of golden hair. The singing never stopped. It went on for a day and a night until all was peaceful in the kingdom of Heaven.
And then Lucifer woke up.
A massive cry went up. "Mik'ael! Mik'ael! Wan' bruder! Why he weave me? Mik'ael!" wailed a tiny bodied, large-lunged fledgling. Gabriel cooed indignantly in his arms, still unable to talk. Michael found himself actually missing the sound of his baby brother's voice. The golden eyes, however, looked out at him keenly. With a tap on his cheek and a babyish gurgle, Gabriel vanished to somewhere that was hopefully not dangerous and/or emotionally scarring. To anyone.
Ha. Yeah, right.
Sighing, Michael wondered if this is how mothers felt as he took off into the fresh morning air. The grotto closed behind him as he made his way to Lucifer, who was currently sobbing into the chest of a very awkward looking Aziraphael, sounding as though his puppy had been kicked into oncoming traffic. Wincing at a particularly loud wail, he was debating the merits of smothering the fledgling in his toga when Michael back-flapped and landed neatly on his left. He sighed in relief and handed over his bundle of screaming joy. "For the record, this was not worth what I asked for. It's like watching Bambi and knowing the mother dies."
A passing cherub stops in its tracks, eyes wide. Michael face-palmed. He knew exactly where this was going. Hang-dog eyes glistening in the sun, the tiny angel whimpered out, "B-Bambi's mother dies?"
"…shit."
Michael eyed the cherub apprehensively and started to edge away, stopping only to hiss, "Language!" before absconding. It was too late, though. Lucifer's unbridled joy at being held by his big brother was overshot only by learning a new word. One that Michael wasn't happy with him knowing when he was millions of years old, and even less happy with now. "Oh, for fuck's sake…"
His eyes widened in horror.
"Fuck, shit!" Chirped Lucifer.
Whimpering worse than the Cherub, Michael called it quits and decided to move on with his life. Now left alone with a swearing fledgling that did, indeed, seem bigger than when he had last seen him, he had no idea what he was supposed to do. "This was so much easier when I was a fledgling," he muttered. "At least Gabriel isn't getting into trouble…" Or at least world-ending trouble. However, the second he gets to Purgatory, all bets are off.
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Castiel stared blankly into the abyss, occasionally tilting his head from side to side in order to better observe the phenomenon before him. Which, there really wasn't one. He was just staring at Gabriel. Which, he probably shouldn't have been since the Archangel was now completely focused on him instead of the squeaky toy Dean had been distracting him with. Said squeaky toy was soon discarded in favor of lunging at the Archangel when he made quick, coordinated moves towards Castiel's wings.
It didn't help.
Sighing in dismay at the future state of his wings, Castiel watched as the feathered tips disappeared into a fledgling's mouth. Gabriel suckled contentedly, foregoing biting in favor of savoring the taste of angelic feather with his tongue. Castiel's shoulders slumped and he shivered in disgust. Gabriel looked up at him and let out a muffled chirp, spitting out a few feathers. The Seraph sighed and admitted privately that his mentor was adorable and probably had all of Heaven wrapped around his pinky finger. He also accepted that Michael's wings were in far worse condition, after being used as a cradle.
Just as he accepted this, Bobby walked through the door. Eyeing the de-aged Archangel, he took in the situation before pulling his trump card. A bundle of squealing fledgling launched himself into the older man's arms before latching onto the bottle. Seeing his awe, Bobby explained, "Its milk, honey and cinnamon. Honestly, you idjets should know better than anyone about that sweet tooth of his."
Castiel acknowledged this with a slight dip of his head as he watched Gabriel suck down the milk mixture like a pig with swill. It was a miracle none of it made its way down his front, as well. With a surprisingly tiny burp, Gabriel flipped around in Bobby's arms in order to cuddle up to his chest. He looked slightly perturbed by this, but allowed it. He did, however, draw the line at allowing the tiny pain in the ass to burrow up through his shirt. Castiel cradled him nonchalantly in his arms after he was sent flying for his shirt escapades. The fledgling patted him on the cheek and gurgled thankfully. He simply nodded in acknowledgement of the deed and went on with his life.
Gabriel cooed and flapped his larger-than-before wings. Castiel frowned upon noticing them and instructed, "Gabriel, say dog."
"Murgle…"
Castiel furrowed his brow and hummed under his breath. Gabriel hummed back. Castiel sang a note. Gabriel sang it back. Castiel said "Gabriel." Gabriel said "Neep!"
Sam blinked. "I don't think the word association thing is going well, Cas."
Gabriel shrieked and dove for Sam, who up until now had been sleeping off three straight days of research. Sam caught him easily, barely fazed by the fuzzy little chicken wings that were slapping him in the head. Dean stared for a second, then muttered darkly, "Traitor…" Gabriel turned to look at him, hurt radiating from his eyes, and began bawling. "Um, I mean Trickster. Yeah. That."
Castiel sighed and finally faced reality. It was time to put Gabriel down for a nap. Taking him from Sam, he tried to tuck him into a wing that, as he soon discovered, was not at all to Gabriel's liking. He mused that it probably had something to do with the fact that they hadn't been groomed in a while, smelled like a dumpster and weren't Michael's or Lucifer's. Yes, that was most likely the reason. It was also the reason he was currently holding two fledglings, now, instead of one. Lucifer was still a very protective brother, it seemed. He glared narrowly at Castiel and wrapped his slightly larger arms around the still bawling Gabriel.
Castiel obligingly looked away in mock fear and wondered how long he would last without Michael within eyesight. He glanced back and sighed. Lucifer was already looking around expectantly, eyes wide and questioning, letting out uncertain chirps that quickly died. Soon, he was joining Gabriel in his fit of temper. Naps, he thought, are rare and glorious things. The combined crying was beginning to make the house shake.
Dean glanced around frantically before apparently seeing something outside. He sprinted through the door, only to come back with a mangy alley cat with one eye and snaggleteeth. He plopped the cat on the couch before backing away to nurse his bleeding, probably rabies-inducing, scratched hand. Praising God, Castiel left the Archangels to the cat's tender mercies and immediately flew to Heaven. Landing, he had the sudden urge to kiss the clouds at his feet but a glance told him it was likely not the best idea. Thunderclouds are best left alone.
Michael met him at the front gates, a rare smile curving up his lips. "They have decided to cause Hell on earth, have they?" Castiel nodded. "That's fine. As long as they don't actually raise Hell, they won't have to be brought back here to cause complete and total chaos." He sighed at the hopeful look Castiel was giving him. "Don't stare at me like that. It isn't my fault you have both of the little winglets currently driving you insane." Castiel glared judgmentally. "Yes, I know that this is technically all my fault and no, I am not freeing you from them."
Castiel sighed. "Gabriel began making those horrid sounds because…he was tired? Hungry? Suffering from some horrendous Archangelic disease?"
"Most likely the first one. He could never sleep properly unless he was held by someone, preferably myself or Lucifer. Although, this one time with Death suggests-"
"Michael, where are our brothers? I have been informed of their disappearance and am greatly concerned for their safety, amongst the Neanderthals," Raphael cuts in, completely monotone. Because there was definite worry, there.
Michael sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose to stave off the impending mental breakdown. "They are currently with the brothers Winchester, Raphael. They will be safe for at least tonight. However, if you wish to see them then you are welcome to both pick them up and continue caring for them. If not, then they shall stay in the abode of Robert Singer until one or both of them decided to investigate the dinosaurs in the Paleozoic, Cretaceous or Mesozoic era. Until that time, which I severely hope is at least a week from now, they shall re-"
"Lord Michael! It would appear Gabriel and Lucifer are riding on the backs of wooly mammoths!" shouted an anxious seraphim.
Michael moaned in despair. Ice Age. The idiots had shown them Ice Age. This could only end badly. Quickly shedding the time stream beneath his wings, he soared in the turquoise sky of the last ice age. It didn't take long to detect the wailing of two tiny fledglings, mainly because of the panicked trumpeting of a herd of curly-haired mammoths. Panicking slightly, he swooped down only to find absolute carnage.
His baby brothers were directly underfoot of the herd, Lucifer holding his wing and bawling his little heart out. Gabriel was clinging to him but was screaming at the mammoths in a language nobody could or ever would understand, scrunching up his tiny fists and breaking the legs of the terrified mammoths when they got close. The charred remains of some kind of big cat hunter lay at their feet, being trampled upon by massive feet. Michael gaped. They had only been out of his sight for a few hours. In those few hours, apparently Lucifer had thrown a tantrum that caused a major earthquake in California that caused the deaths of 37 women, 29 men and three squirrels. Gabriel had eaten out a Hershey's chocolate store and now the manager was about to become both broke and fired. And, not to mention the decimation of half a herd of woolly mammoths.
Sinking slowly to the ground, Michael twitched absently in shock before raising a hand and starting The Holy Prayer. He was chanting weakly in Enoch when Gabriel glanced over and saw him. With twin squeals, there were two fledglings on his lap. Lucifer let out a tiny sob and showed his big brother the booboo he had received, which was quite obviously a horrendous and gaping wound and not a bruise. No, not at all. Michael just sighed and held them both, muttering pleas for divine intervention under his breath. Nothing happened, but he had the distinct feeling that God was laughing at him.
Tucking them both into his second pair of flight wings, Michael took off for home with two sniffling fledglings and whatever was currently trying to eat his wings. He really hoped it was Gabriel.
That first week marked a change in his fledgling's development. It took a while, but soon they were growing at least once every day. Which brought about the dreaded event that would never be recorded in the Pantheon because the fear of That Day would haunt them forever. That Day that made the commander Michael cringe in horror, and God turn his eyes away and wince.
The day that Lucifer grew out his second and third pairs of wings. God help us all.
I suck.