A/N: This fic is gonna be a little different. It's got five chapters, but I wrote each chapter like an individual "episode" for this little arc. Takes place season 12 and is obviously AU because Gabriel was never Asmodeus's prisoner.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Thanks to 29Pieces for beta reading!
Episode 1: Ye Gods!
"Are you ever going to forgive me?"
"No."
Gabriel huffed. "How many times do I have to say, I didn't mean for this to happen."
Castiel shot him a sharp glower from where he was sitting in a grumpy slouch at the table. "That's the problem, Gabriel," he practically spat. "You don't think about the consequences of your actions."
Gabriel crossed his arms. "You know, I didn't have to come out of retirement to help you track down Lucifer's unborn kid."
And therein lied the reason they were in this predicament. How was he to know the nephilim's power could be so potent from the womb? When Gabriel had tried to trap the flighty Kelly Kline in a pocket dimension, the baby's defense mechanisms must have kicked in, because there was a surge of gold in the mortal woman's eyes before Gabriel's pocket dimension had turned into a raging vortex—and sucked him and Castiel through into a completely alternate universe.
At least, that was their best guest given they had gone back to the Men of Letters bunker only to find it locked up and dusty, as if no one had set foot inside for decades. Plus the Winchesters' cell phone numbers were going to Jeff the plumber and some woman named Yasmin who was offering twofer specials. Castiel had hung up before Gabriel could get the details on what kind of twofer.
And now said angel was sulking, which wasn't going to improve their situation.
"I don't know why you showed up after all this time anyway."
Honestly, Gabriel was beginning to question that, too. All he'd gotten since his reemergence was disdain and distrust. Where was the gratitude?
"Look, let's just head up to Heaven and wrangle some angel power to help send us back," he said.
Castiel flicked an irritated look at him. Seriously, how had seven years not removed the stick from up his ass?
"Fine."
He stood up, shoulders held rigidly as he waited expectantly. Right, kid's wings were broken.
Gabriel stepped closer and reached out to clasp Castiel's shoulder, then flapped his own massive wings to launch them toward Heaven.
But instead of landing in the great hall like Gabriel had planned, he slammed into a solid wall. A concussive whomp of power reverberated at the impact, flinging Gabriel and Castiel back down to Earth like a set of comets. Gabriel frantically tried to regain his flight trajectory, but every nerve ending had been jolted and his grace was buzzing with foreign squiggles of electricity. He plummeted through the air, unable to slow his descent as he crashed into a field hard enough to carve a deep trough through the soil. The ground shook once, then twice when Cas landed a split second behind him.
Gabriel smashed through the dirt before finally coming to a dazed stop, and he lay in the field for several moments, blinking up at the sky as white spots danced across his vision. What in Dad's name was that?
He pushed himself upright with a groan and looked around. There was a jagged furrow in the field a few feet from the one he'd carved, and he crawled over to find Castiel laying inside it, hair disheveled and coat smeared with dirt.
"Well, that didn't work," Gabriel commented.
Castiel glowered at him and struggled to sit up. "Heaven must be sealed." He paused as he staggered to his feet. "I wonder if Metatron still managed to cast the angels out of Heaven in this world." His gaze turned distant with a haunted memory.
"I never liked that smarmy weasel," Gabriel said.
Castiel's glare sharpened. "Yes, well, you didn't show your face when that was going on in our world."
Gabriel rolled his eyes. So much ingratitude. He'd been lucky to have been hiding on Earth when all that went down; otherwise, he could have ended up losing his wings, too. And then with the angel factions banding together and declaring war on each other…it was Gabriel's worst nightmare. Of course he didn't want to get involved.
"You got any suggestions for a Plan B?" he snipped.
Castiel turned in a half circle to survey where they'd landed. "I wonder where the Winchesters are."
Gabriel groaned. "Of course you do."
Castiel snapped a fiery glower at him. "They might be able to help us. If the angels did fall, the Winchesters probably know all about it."
"Yeah, well, they're not at their cozy home base, so where do you suggest we look?"
"Sioux Falls. And if they're not there, Bobby Singer might still be alive, and he might know how to contact them."
Gee, didn't that sound like a barrel of monkeys. But, unfortunately, Gabriel didn't have a better suggestion at the moment. He tuned his senses to the cosmos and realized they had landed back in Kansas, but fifty miles from the Men of Letters bunker. And his grace was still raw from crashing into that power barrier, so flying again wasn't an option at the moment. Actually…
Gabriel stiffened. "You feel any different?" he asked.
Castiel rolled his shoulder. "Sore."
"No, I mean…I don't feel connected to Heaven. I'm running on pure battery."
Castiel just looked at him blandly for an extra beat. "We're cut off," he finally said, though he didn't sound surprised or alarmed.
Oh, this day just kept getting better and better.
Castiel started making his way out of the field.
Gabriel hurried after him. "Whoa, did you hear me? With my powers on limited reserves, I might not be able to recreate a pocket dimension to connect to a rift."
"You wouldn't be able to on your own, anyway. That was the nephilim's power."
They stumbled out onto a road. Castiel looked up and down both directions before picking one and heading that way.
"We're just gonna walk to Sioux Falls?" Gabriel demanded.
"We'll have to procure a vehicle," Castiel replied. "Don't worry, I know how to steal a car and drive one." He flicked a sidelong look at Gabriel. "I'm used to operating at decreased power."
Gabriel huffed. Well, good on him. But Gabriel wasn't used to it. Could things get any worse?
They walked for a couple of miles before coming upon a small town where Castiel did, in fact, steal them a car. Then they drove to South Dakota. It was a long, tedious drive with Castiel giving Gabriel the silent treatment the entire way.
To add insult to injury, they had just rolled into Sioux Falls when the car sputtered to an ungainly halt. Cas managed to pull it over to the curb just before it gave out completely.
Gabriel lolled a dry look at him. "Know all about human cars, huh? Miss the lesson on them needing gas to run?"
Castiel's jaw tightened. "The gauge says it has a quarter of a tank." He sighed. "It must be incorrect."
"You think?"
Castiel shot him a baleful look before pushing his door open and climbing out, leaving Gabriel little choice but to follow.
"We can walk the rest of the way," Castiel said.
"And we're back to walking."
"Unless you can fly again."
Gabriel tentatively tested his wings, but they were still smarting from that crash landing. "Erg, not yet."
"Then we walk."
Castiel strode off down the sidewalk, and Gabriel had to jog to catch up.
"These boots were made for walking," he sing-songed under his breath.
"I would think 'Hit the road Jack' would be more your tune."
Gabriel arched a brow in astonishment that Cas even knew that song. Before he could come up with a retort, a woman came rushing up toward them.
"Lord Loki!" she gushed.
Gabriel blinked. "Uh, do I know you?"
She ducked here gaze demurely. "I wouldn't presume your magnificence would know my name, but I have been a devout worshipper my entire life."
"Um, okay."
This was weird.
He glanced around awkwardly, and noticed everyone was stopping in their tracks to stare at him.
"Lord Loki!" someone else exclaimed.
"We should leave," Castiel said quietly.
But as the accolades starting pouring in, Gabriel puffed his chest out. "What's the rush?" He flashed a beaming grin at the growing crowd, causing a few titters among the females. "Looks like my alternate self has made more of a public persona for himself."
He waved to some of his adoring fans. Oh, he could get used to this.
"Are you heading to your temple?" someone asked.
His temple? Wow, his alternate self had major chops.
"Of course," he replied cheerily.
"Gabriel," Cas growled under his breath. "We don't have time for this."
Gabriel waved a dismissive hand at him. "We have all the time in the world. To my temple!" he declared.
People eagerly turned and started heading down a side street, so Gabriel followed. Castiel looked fit to explode, and hung back for a few beats before finally storming after them.
They walked a few blocks before arriving at an opulent building that looked like a fancy hotel with maybe a penthouse at the top. Inside was decked out in Norse decor that looked more like the original Loki's taste, but whatever. It was probably all about image.
Gabriel sauntered inside, enjoying the shocked looks from those within that quickly turned to reverent bows and offers to get him anything. This was better than his life of retirement back home.
He spotted a throne set against the back wall and moseyed on over to it. An attendant immediately appeared with a glass of amber liquid.
Gabriel seated himself on the throne and took a sip of the drink, crinkling his nose. "Ugh, this tastes like you got it from the Middle Ages."
The attendant faltered. "But, it's your customary drink…"
Gabriel frowned, but quickly recovered. "Right, of course. Just testing you." He cocked a finger gun at the guy, who gave a nervous laugh and then hurriedly backed away.
Castiel remained standing by the front door, glowering furiously.
Gabriel craned his neck around to look for that attendant. "Hey, you got any candy?"
The elevator dinged a moment before the doors slid open, and three figures stepped into the lobby-turned-temple. Gabriel immediately recognized them.
"Fellas!" he greeted.
Sleipnir, Narfi, and Fenrir all gazed at him curiously.
"Father. We weren't expecting you."
Gabriel quirked a confused brow. They couldn't tell who he was? He hesitated, suddenly realizing that he didn't actually know enough about this world, though he was good at winging it.
He shrugged. "Can't I surprise my boys?"
They narrowed their eyes at him. Gabriel tried not to shift uneasily.
Then Narfi's blew wide. "Angel," he hissed.
Gabriel sighed. "Yeah, okay, you got me. But we're all friends here, right?"
The three demigods surged forward. Gabriel sprang up from the throne just as Castiel jumped to his defense, angel blade dropping into his hand. Gabriel didn't draw his; he merely raised a hand and snapped his fingers, intending to stick the soles of their shoes to the tile. Except, that didn't happen, and the demigods kept coming.
Sleipnir and Fenrir grabbed his arms to restrain him while Narfi whirled toward Castiel. Gabriel tried to throw them off, and was surprised by how strong they were. Definitely more than typical demigod grade.
Castiel raised his blade to strike, but Narfi swung an arm up to block, catching Castiel's wrist and wrenching his arm behind his back until it cracked. Cas grunted, and then Narfi ripped the blade from his hand and twirled it up and around to lay against Castiel's neck.
"Definitely angel," he snarled, eyeing the blade. "What are you doing on Earth?"
Castiel furrowed his brow. "Are angels not often on Earth?"
Narfi barked out a laugh. "Where have you been? Angels haven't left Heaven in centuries."
Castiel threw a bewildered look at Gabriel.
Crap, what kind of world had they fallen into?
"We're not from around here," Castiel said carefully.
"And we were just leaving," Gabriel chimed in, trying to tug himself free, but Sleipnir and Fenrir held firm. What the hell were they juicing?
The demigods snarled at him.
"Think Heaven is plotting against us?" Fenrir growled.
"It'd be foolish, but how else to explain these infiltrators?" Sleipnir responded. "And trying to masquerade as one of us. Where is the real Loki?" He gave Gabriel a sharp shake.
"I don't know! Listen, guys, we're from an alternate world, one where your dad and I are actually good pals."
"Lies," Fenrir hissed. "Loki killed dozens of angels in the revolt. He would never befriend one."
"Revolt?" Castiel repeated.
Narfi angled a suspicious look at him. "When the pagans banded together and overthrew the Judeo-Christian religious sects. Heaven sealed up the pearly gates to protect itself."
Gabriel's jaw went slack with stupefaction. "Get real," he sputtered. "The pagan deities could never agree on anything long enough to stage an all-out war against Heaven."
Sleipnir lifted his chin smugly. "We did. And this world has been ours ever since."
Gabriel swallowed hard. Maybe this place wasn't looking so shiny after all…
"Look," he tried again. "We really did fall into this world by accident, and just want to get home. So if you let us go—"
"Lies," Fenrir spat again.
Gabriel shot him a dark look. "Down, doggie."
"We'll take them to the Pantheon," Narfi announced. "If Heaven is planning to move against us, we need to divine their plans." He pressed the angel blade harder against Castiel's skin in emphasis of his meaning.
This really wasn't going well at all…
Gabriel wasn't keen on this next move, but they were desperate. Mustering his grace, he snapped his head up, eyes blazing blue as he unleashed a burst of power. Sleipnir and Fenrir were flung away, and the concussive force slammed into Narfi and Castiel as well, throwing them to the floor.
Castiel immediately rolled away from the demigod and gained his feet. Narfi tried to jump up, but Castiel delivered a punch that knocked his head back into the tile hard enough to crack it. He then snatched his angel blade back and spun toward the other two, who were now getting up.
Gabriel summoned his blade from the ether, but that little show of power had left him winded more than he expected, and he had to stop to catch his breath.
Sleipnir yanked a battle axe off the wall. It may have been decoration, but the edge glinted as sharp as any weapon of function. He leaped toward Castiel, who ducked to the side and pivoted around with a slash of his angel blade. He cut a score along Sleipnir's hip, drawing a roar from the demigod.
Fenrir charged Gabriel and he danced away, stumbling instead of gliding with his usual grace. He still lashed out with his blade. Fenrir jumped back to avoid getting sliced. They paced around each other in a half circle. Gabriel switched to an overhanded grip.
"I don't actually want to kill you. Despite the fact you cheat at cards."
Fenrir gnashed his teeth and leaped again. Gabriel pranced away, spinning around to drive his blade into Fenrir's back. He stabbed him high in the shoulder, eliciting a howl. Fenrir staggered away, and Gabriel turned back toward where Cas was still fighting Sleipnir. The scrappy angel had gotten several hits in, but the demigod wasn't as weakened as Gabriel would have expected him to be.
Time to blow this joint.
Gabriel's grace was still quivering, but he ran forward and grabbed Castiel's arm, spreading his wings and leaping into the ether. He only flew them outside to the back alley, landing with a slight jolt.
Castiel stumbled in surprise.
"Let's get out of here," Gabriel said darkly.
Without another word, they turned and hurried down the next street, not slowing down until they'd put a few blocks between them and the very pissed off demigods.
Gabriel lumbered to a halt and leaned over to put his hands on his knees.
Castiel stopped and turned to look back at him. "Are you all right?"
"Oh yeah. I love a good brawl." He straightened, unwilling to admit how rattled he actually was by this world and how history had apparently played out. "We, uh, can go look for the Winchesters now."
He half expected an 'I told you so' or pointed glare, but Cas's expression had turned contemplative.
"If Heaven was defeated long ago, then the Apocalypse wouldn't have been orchestrated. Heaven wouldn't have intervened to ensure the Winchester line made it to Sam and Dean."
Gabriel paused. Meaning Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum might never have been born. And even though Gabriel hadn't put much stock in those two being able to help them hop dimensions, he couldn't deny that the Winchester brothers had accomplished the impossible in their own world. If they weren't around…well, suddenly things seemed a tad more darker.
"We might as well go check for sure," Gabriel said.
Castiel wordlessly started walking again, both of them on guard as they made their way through the city and to the outer skirts toward Singer Salvage. There was a plot of land in the distance with lots of metal glinting in the sunlight, so Gabriel felt a flicker of hope.
Except, when they got closer, he saw not junk cars, but loads and loads of statues ranging from ceramic to granite, and a sign advertising "Roy's Norse and Germanic Statues For Sale."
Well…crap.
"Doesn't mean the Winchesters aren't out there," Gabriel offered.
Castiel's shoulders slumped dejectedly. "Even if they are, they might not even be hunters. I'm afraid we're on our own."
Gabriel turned his gaze back toward the city limits, seemingly normal from this distance. But it was clear that this strange new world was not gonna be a walk in the park.