Fallen
Book 1: Angels, Angels, Everywhere
Chapter 5
- Adventures in Angel-Sitting -
When the world swam back into view, Avariel looked down at the man in his wheelchair. He was staring around with his mouth open in shock and amazement. She followed his gaze, trying to take in the sights as he saw them; the craggy mountains in the near distance, the olive trees that grew like weeds all over the hillsides, the beautiful blue sky unmarred by a single cloud, and the light of the sun as it began to kiss the mountain tops.
There was a small café in front of them, all white stone and wrought iron with vines creeping up the walls. The road on which they stood was devoid of traffic, but it continued downhill to the right, and if one followed it with the eye it could be seen leading to a small town nestled in a valley, the buildings made of the same white stuff as the café. To the left, the road climbed upwards, as if to the sky itself.
Delicious aromas were on the warm breeze; honeysuckle, and the other sweet scents of plants; Cooking food from within the cafe; Something tangy and alcoholic.
"Where the hell are we?" Bobby demanded, looking up at her.
"A small, unimportant village, just outside of Perugia, Italy."
"Italy? You brought us to Italy? What in God's name did you do that for?"
"Because this café is claimed to have the best icecream in the world. Because the mountains are a beautiful backdrop to this setting. Because the weather is warm and people here are carefree. Also, because you didn't say that I shouldn't bring us here."
"I didn't know that I had to specify 'do not leave the United States of America when going for icecream'."
"And now you do know," she said. "Well, we are here. Should we at least see this through?"
"Italy," he grumbled. "Bloody Italy."
But he did not object, so she stepped forward and opened the wrought iron gate to the café patio. Business seemed quiet today; a couple of older men were sitting at the indoor bar, but there was only a single couple sitting out on the patio, staring lovingly into each others' eyes. Avariel wondered what they saw there.
They were met on the veranda by an olive-skinned, dark-haired waiter who gave them both a gracious smile despite their obviously strange attire; Bobby still had his slippers on his feet.
"Welcome to our establishment," the waiter said, with a gracious half-bow. "Can I show you to a table for two?"
"A table for five, please," Avariel replied. "We are expecting company."
"Very well. Follow me, please."
"You think Cas and the boys are going to show up?" Bobby asked.
"Oh, I'm certain of it," she smiled.
"Did you zap me to Italy just to worry Sam and Dean?"
"Of course not, Bobby, I would never do that!" she said, attempting to sound scandalised. It was the truth. She hadn't just done it to worry Sam and Dean. She also found it very amusing, and she genuinely did like Italy. Bobby didn't look as if he entirely believed her, but she had sworn an oath of obedience to him, so he could hardly accuse her of lying.
At the table, the waiter removed a seat for Bobby, so the elder man could wheel his chair into place, and asked for their orders.
"I'd like something from your icecream sundae range," she told the waiter. "Chocolate flavour. With chocolate sauce and chocolate sprinkles, and a chocolate flake sticking out of it."
"And for you, sir?"
"Just a coffee," said Bobby. "Black."
"I will be back with your order shortly."
"Tell me something," Bobby said, as he glanced around at the lovely scenery. "If we're in Italy, why was that guy speaking English?"
"He wasn't," she replied. "He was speaking Italian. As was I. I was merely translating it directly into your head, to make it easier for you to understand."
"And when I was speaking?"
"He heard you speaking Italian," she said with a shrug.
"You can just plug another language into somebody's brain?"
"That's a very crude way of putting it. I merely thought it best that we attempt to blend in by speaking the local language and dialect."
"And I don't suppose you thought to bring any Italian money with you?" he asked, lowering his voice so the other customers would not overhear.
"Indeed I did not. But I intend to save the world, so the way I see it, I'm owed at least one icecream."
Bobby shook his head and said nothing else until the waiter came back with his coffee. The chocolate sundae, when it arrived, looked like an unappetising pile of brown and white in a large clear glass. This was supposedly the best thing in the world? Humans actually enjoyed eating cold piles of brown? She picked up the spoon and tried not to think too much about all the things the body had to do in order to eat; mouth open, lips and tongue engage, mouth closed, spoon removed from mouth, jaw muscles working to swallow, peristalsis of the oesophagus... the human body was needlessly complex. Her Father worked in strange ways, it seemed.
The flavour of the cold icecream spread over her tongue in tiny ripples of pleasure which travelled up to her head. She must have looked surprised by the sensation, because Bobby chuckled at the expression on her face.
"So you've really never eaten anything before?" he asked.
"Is it that obvious?" She scooped up another spoonful of the icecream and closed her eyes to enjoy the experience as she ate it.
"What's Heaven like?" Bobby asked her.
She gave the question a moment of consideration. It was difficult to explain the concept of Heaven in terms that a human would understand. At last she settled on an allegory.
"It's rather like this icecream sundae," she said, gesturing at the glass with her spoon. "Layer upon layer of reality, inside which are mutable pockets of human experience. An angel can easily navigate the layers and pockets, much like the spoon."
"So... no fluffy clouds?"
She shook her head. "Heaven is not truly in the sky, it is in a layer of reality above this material plane, in which matter exists as thought and energy in its natural state. The human mind translates 'above' as 'in the sky' because for millennia, humans have looked to the sky and it has been unattainable thing directly above them, and they associate this with Heaven and God. If your species lasts long enough to make it into space and begin colonising new planets, you will cease to view the sky as a mysterious realm, and instead see it for what it truly is; the atmosphere of a planet. Nothing more, nothing less."
"Huh. Well, don't sugar-coat it or anything."
"You ordered me to speak the truth," she said with a shrug. "I merely tried to explain it as simply and honestly as possible."
"Bobby!" Dean's shout disturbed the peace of the air, and Avariel saw both Winchester boys hurrying towards the table followed by Castiel. "Are you alright, Bobby?"
"Of course I'm alright," Bobby scoffed. "I'm not a kid, Dean. I've been putting up with weird crap for longer than you've been alive, as you may recall."
Now that he could see Bobby was unharmed, Dean rounded on Avariel. "What the hell were you playing at, bringing him to Italy?"
"I was playing at icecream," she said, gesturing to her sundae. She glanced up at Castiel, who was watching her disapprovingly. "By the way, brother, this is amazing. You should try it. And by 'try it', I mean 'get your own'. This one's mine."
"I have no desire to eat," Castiel replied coldly. "And you are behaving irresponsibly."
"Why? Because I'm embracing the fact that I now have a body and can enjoy things like chocolate icecream and sunsets in Italy? Is that 'irresponsible'? Should I be more like you, and not bother trying these things? Why restrict myself in such a manner?"
"Because it is not right. Angels should be above simple physical pleasures."
"Says who? Our Father? Our big brothers? What makes you the expert in what angels should and should not do? We're in exactly the same boat, brother. The only difference is that I'm going to make the most of the journey and enjoy it while I can."
"And what is to stop you from becoming like the other grigori who fell?"
"The fact that I am aware of the dangers and am not stupid. I am not the fallen angel you need to worry about."
She took another bite of her icecream. Castiel was overreacting to her presence. She had no idea why he even considered her a threat at all, beyond the fact that some of her own kind had once made mistakes. But that didn't mean every grigori was dangerous or unreliable; just the opposite, in fact. Grigori were very dedicated to their tasks. When the other angels had started to give up hope and sink into despair after God's departure, the grigori had kept to their orders, Watching without question or complaint. They did not know what God's plan was, or even if He had one. They had not rebelled because they were disobedient children, but rather, they worried for the safety of the Earth if the apocalypse was allowed to happen. Bartholomew had been so certain that God wanted them to safeguard the Earth and humanity against the threat of destruction. They believed they were doing God's work when they began to question Michael. And when Bartholomew had been killed, Avariel knew that the task of saving the Earth fell to her. It was something she still believed with every fibre of her being.
"Why did you even come here?" Sam asked.
She told him the same thing she'd told Bobby. "Nice town, nice café, nice scenery and the best icecream in the world. Would you care to join us?" she offered, gesturing at the empty seats. "Try the icecream. You'll thank me."
Sam and Dean shared a look, and Dean rolled his eyes.
"One icecream," the elder Winchester said. "One. And then we're going back to Bobby's. All of us," he said, with a pointed look at Avariel.
The boys ordered an icecream each. Castiel ordered nothing, and no amount of chiding could convince him to eat food. He described it as 'inconvenient, unnecessary and messy.'
"You know," Dean said, once he'd tucked into his own dessert, "this is actually really good."
"Told you so." Finished with her own icecream, Avariel put her spoon down and pushed the glass away from her. Bobby had long ago finished his black coffee, and was now looking at the hills and mountains around him with a wistful look in his eyes.
"If you don't mind me saying," Sam said, "you seem to be remarkably blasé about this whole situation."
"What situation?" she asked, confused. "Being in Italy?"
"No. Being kicked out of Heaven and stuck in a vessel."
She shrugged. "I knew when I made the decision that this wouldn't be some temporary gig. I was sure it would be a one-way ride, and I accepted that before leaving. Am I not reacting correctly? Should I be brooding or moping about the misfortune of it all?"
"I don't know," he admitted. "From what you say, it sounds like you've lost everything. I just thought it would make you sad."
"It does," she assured him, though he didn't look as if he believed her. She couldn't blame him; everything was still sinking in, and she hadn't truly felt the shock of losing all of her friends yet. "But I haven't lost everything. I still have myself. I have my mission."
"So right now, you're living for your mission?"
"Yes. Avert the apocalypse."
"And what happens when you've completed your mission? When you either succeed or fail?"
"I don't know. Find a new mission, I suppose. Isn't that what life is about? Moving from one goal to the other, always striving to achieve something?"
"That's how our lives are," Dean said. "Normal people don't have a mission. They just get on with working a nine to five job, getting married and popping out a couple of kids."
"I disagree," Avariel said. "I have observed that humans always need something to aim for; whether that is killing monsters or getting a promotion at work, it is still a goal. It is still something to work towards and strive for. I have seen what happens when humans have no goals. They become despondent and depressed. They begin to question their worth. They fall into despair and consider ending their lives, because it all seems so pointless and without reason. It is not a healthy state of mind, and I have no desire to experience it."
"You got all that from watching humans?" Bobby asked, sounding impressed.
"I've been watching for a very long time, and now that I have a vessel of my own, I'm starting to understand more."
"How is Katie coping with all of this?"
"Surprisingly well," she admitted, with a little pride. "She is aware of some of the things which happen, but to her it seems like a dream. Sometimes I feel her stirring a little, and catch an occasional thought, but most of the time she is quiet, and content to slumber. You don't believe me?" she asked, noting the looks of disbelief on the boys' faces.
"It's just... well..." Sam looked at Castiel. "Jimmy, Cas's vessel, said it was like being strapped to a comet."
"I can't speak for the experience of other vessels. Maybe my presence is just less... overpowering." She gave Castiel a small, gloating smile. "Or perhaps I merely have more finesse."
"Most likely the former," Castiel replied tersely. He didn't look pleased by the intimation that she was more skilled than he at something.
"Are you two going to turn everything into a pissing contest?" Bobby demanded. "Honestly, it's like listening to children at times. Or Sam and Dean."
"Hey," Dean objected. "We don't sound like that."
"Sure you don't. Now eat your damn icecreams so we can go home."
"You have to admit, Bobby," said Sam, "this place isn't half bad."
"But it isn't real," Bobby replied. There was an air of sadness about him as he spoke. "Oh, I know it's the real Italy, and not some illusion, but it's not our lives. Even if I stayed here for twenty years, I'd still be expecting the monsters to come crawling out of the woodwork. How long do you think this place will last if Lucifer gets that croatoan virus up and running? It's only real for as long as it remains like this. The moment something bad happens, it'll become just another broken society."
Neither Dean nor Sam spoke again as they finished off their icecreams. Bobby's words had obviously touched them deeply, and they had touched Avariel too. He had such a bleak view of the world, and could barely see the beauty of it through the darkness. Was this, she wondered, an effect of his paralysis? Was be being unnecessarily bleak, or just realistic? It wasn't an easy thing to judge. Although she had watched him, she did not know him well enough yet to understand his reasoning. It was something she planned to rectify in the coming days.
o - o - o - o - o
When Avariel teleported herself and Bobby back to his house, followed by Castiel bringing Sam and Dean, it had been dusk in Italy, but it was still early afternoon back in America. Bobby immediately ordered the Winchesters back to the books, and Castiel left, claiming he had things to do elsewhere. A little tired by her teleportation, Avariel requested the use of the spare bedroom upstairs.
"What, you need to sleep or something?" Dean asked. It sounded almost as if he was mocking her.
"No. At least, I don't think so," she said truthfully. "I would like to experience sleep some time, but not today. I would like to be alone for a while, to observe what is happening around the world and try to find something that may help us."
"The room's yours for as long as you need it," Bobby told her.
"Thank you."
She teleported directly to the room and sat down in one of the armchairs in front of the unlit fire. Removing her shoes and settling herself into a position that was comfortable for her vessel, she engaged her Watcher-vision and felt the room fade away into the background as her eyes scanned the Earth. There was suffering everywhere, and the majority of it wasn't even related to the forthcoming apocalypse. In the east, people were oppressed and at war. Endangered animals were fighting for survival, and slowly losing their battles. In Africa, famine had been marching across the land for decades, slowly turning what had been fertile land into desert. Children died of malnourishment, thirst and diseases. In America and western nations, people were made homeless or fell victim to their own vices; drug and alcohol addiction, obesity, depression. In the southern American continent, people lived in squalor, their lives controlled by drug barons, and thousands of square kilometers of precious rainforest were torn up in the name of progress, reduced to bare, scorched Earth.
How greatly the face of the planet had changed within the past few thousand years! Humans had risen up and seized everything around them, taking land, destroying trees, polluting oceans, killing and burning and maiming, and they could not even hear how the Earth cried in pain, they could not hear the dying songs of the species which went extinct. Poor, pitiful, deaf creatures, they were oblivious to the harm they were causing to the planet.
Of course, they were not all the same. Some humans fought for what they believed in. They resisted destructive change. But it wasn't enough. Pharmaceutical companies hoarded medicine, selling it to exploit the misery and suffering of others. Forests were torn down to make room for housing or farmland. The planet was reaching is sustainable capacity, but the human population was showing no signs of stagnating. Some of the angels, she knew, considered humans a plague on the Earth. They thought the apocalypse was a way of culling the population, of reducing it to a more manageable size. God had done it once before, they reasoned, when he had sent floods to cleanse the Earth of the Nephilim, the wicked humans, and the angels who had betrayed Heaven. This wasn't any different.
Avariel did not see it that way. A flood ordained by God to wipe out abominations was not the same as a fight between two brothers who were desperate for their father's love. Lucifer, the most beloved son of God, could not stand that his Father had a new favourite in humanity. And Michael could not stand that Lucifer had rebelled against their Father. It was all so ridiculously petty, and Avariel wanted to stop it, to try and make them see sense. Unfortunately, nobody listened to grigori. They thought they knew better because they were older and created first. They just would not listen to reason.
She was struck suddenly with a heart-breaking thought; Heaven would never be the same again. Even if she was somehow able to return, she would be alone. Almost ninety percent of the grigori had joined the rebellion, and now almost ninety percent of the grigori were dead. Those who had chosen not to rebel and remain loyal to the arch-angels would be the only ones left, kept on leashes far shorter by now. The angels who had been her friends since their creation were now dead, nothing more than memories. The sheer amount of devastation was almost overwhelming to consider.
Bartholomew had been the first lost, and the most painful. He had been her superior, and a member of the same Order. Each Order had its own chief grigori, but the chiefs merely reported to their respective arch-angels. Avariel had not even caught a glimpse of an arch-angel in centuries, until Bartholomew had come to her with new orders. He had died first, but his death was not the last. A few weeks after Avariel had restarted the rebellion, her friends Mayar and Kistal, from the Order of Michael, and Tomelin from the Order of Raphael, had been charged with treason, accused of conspiring against Heaven, and executed. They had died protecting her; despite being tortured, they had not told the arch-angels who had set the grigori rebelling once more. Her anonymity had been preserved, for a short time, and she had continued to organise the resistance.
Now, the rebellion had ended. The resistance was dead, along with the grigori who had participated in it. She turned her eyes inwards, now, and remembered the moment it had all started.
She was in Heaven. Not her own Heaven, because angels could create no Heaven of their own. No, this was the Heaven of a young girl who had died of hypothermia after falling into a winter pond and becoming trapped under the ice. In this Heaven, there was no winter, no pond, and no ice. Just the girl and her dog, Bubbles, playing in the park. This was one of the happiest memories for the girl, and now she could experience it forever.
Avariel was formless. She let her formless self rest at ease amongst the tree-tops of the Heavenly park, and though she was present in Heaven, her main focus was on the Earth. Her vision was limitless; she could see the head on a pin in a house in England, where an elderly woman was sewing a blanket for her first great grandchild. She could see the scales on a salmon as it leapt out of a river in America, fighting its way upstream to return to its birthing place and so begin the cycle anew. She could see the freckle on the cheek of a young boy in Australia as he watched his older brothers surfing in the crashing waves and wished he too could be out there navigating the breakers. She watched everything and nothing, all at once, for the Eyes of Heaven did not sleep and they did not discriminate; a salmon was no more or less important than a great grandchild.
When she first became aware that she was not alone in this tiny slice of Heaven, she did nothing. Sometimes, angels passed through, on their way to other places, other Heavens of other people who had died and now continued in eternal happiness. Other angels rarely paid Avariel any attention. The grigori were ever-present, but they did not interact with angels or humans, and they did not interact with the souls of the dead in Heaven. They merely were, and they Watched.
The angel did not pass through the Heaven of the dead girl. In fact, the angel took a form from the memory; it became the shape of the dead girl's father, and it called out to Avariel. Immediately, she recognised Bartholomew, her chief. It had been almost a year since she had seen Bartholomew, because she'd had very little of worth to report. Unlike most angels, grigori were not highly sociable or naturally gregarious. They Watched, alone, for extended periods of time, and reported back to their superiors whenever they had something worth noting. When they did come together, they were amicable, and they discussed their observations, compared their findings, told anecdotes about the amusing things the humans were getting up to, but they were fully capable of going for years, even decades, without the contact of another angel. Usually lone, but never lonely; it was hard to feel lonely, when you had the whole world to watch.
Avariel descended from the trees where she was resting and took another form from the girl's memory; that of her mother. In the background, the girl and her dog continued to play, neither sensitive to the presence of the angels. Bartholomew's dark-haired illusion was dressed in a grey suit, whilst the form that Avariel took wore a long green skirt and a dark blue blouse. Both forms looked real, but neither was.
"Avariel," Bartholomew said. "It has been a while."
"Yes," she agreed. "I am surprised to see you here, Bartholomew. You have never sought me out before."
"I come because I have a task for you," he said. His silver eyes shone brightly in the pale pink face, and she knew hers looked no different.
"A task?" she asked, confused. She already had a task. All grigori had the same task. Watch the Earth.
"We have new orders, at last," he said.
She did not have a real body, but she still felt cold. New orders could mean only one thing.
"He... has returned?" she asked, fearful and optimistic at the same time.
Bartholomew shook his head. "No. But he has contacted me. He has a plan. A very good plan. And once it is complete, he will return."
Had she a heart, it would have skipped a beat. For too long had her master been absent from Heaven. For too long had he been walking the Earth with the mortals. For too long, she and Bartholomew and the others of their Order had been required to report to Michael and Raphael.
"What do you want me to do?" she asked.
"There is somebody we must Watch. I want you to carry out this task. It is very important."
His words concerned her. If it was important, and she got it wrong, it might have terrible repercussions. "Must it be me? If it is important, wouldn't you rather do it?"
"Of course I would," he said, a little harshly. She flinched at his tone. "But I am too obvious a choice. You are less known. Less important. The arch-angels will not suspect you."
She nodded, bowing to his wisdom. If he said she was the best to Watch, then she would Watch as best she could. "I will do as you say," she agreed.
"And if you are questioned by Raphael or Michael on your activities?"
She hesitated. To disobey an angel meant punishment. To disobey an arch-angel meant death. And death for angels was final. They possessed no souls, and could not be given a place in Heaven. But Bartholomew needed her help, and if it would bring about the return of her true leader, then she would do everything within her power to make it so.
"I will... say nothing to them. Please, tell me what to do," she said.
"You are aware of what has been happening with the Seals?"
"Of course." All angels were aware of that. The last Seal was about to be broken. Lucifer was about to walk free. Michael seemed confident he could stop his brother. Avariel didn't doubt Michael's abilities, just his methods. Their war would destroy humanity.
"The traitorous angel who helped the Winchesters... Castiel... he has just been resurrected. We suspect our Father's hand in this matter."
She inhaled sharply. No angel had seen God for a very long time.
"This makes him of importance," Bartholomew continued. "You will Watch him closely."
"But... why?"
"Because we have been instructed to do so. He may continue to help the Winchesters, and if that is the case, then we can use him. But we must keep him hidden from the eyes of Michael... and Raphael, especially. No other grigori must be given the chance to Watch him. As of this moment, you and I are the only ones aware of his resurrection. There is still time for you to claim the right of Watching. I will come to you, following no schedule, to hear your reports. Do you understand?"
"I will Watch Castiel," she repeated back, her head bowed. "If questioned, I will withhold the truth."
"Good. I knew I made the correct choice, in coming to you with this. Take care, Avariel. Watch closely. I will return when I am able."
It had been the first of several visits. Bartholomew came to her randomly, to hear what she had observed, and pass it on to their master. She held nothing back. She told Bartholomew that Castiel had begun helping the Winchesters again. She told him that Michael and Raphael had allowed the Seals to be broken, and had even aided in their breaking, to bring about the apocalypse. It was that news which had spurred Bartholomew into action. He began sounding out other grigori, starting at first with their own Order. From there he had moved on to the other two Orders, and through persuasion and his own charisma, had convinced them that what the arch-angels were doing was wrong. If they did not resist, he told them, the Earth would be destroyed. How could they claim to be children of God, and yet allow his creation to end with such a fate?
His words had excited Avariel, and scared her. It was one thing for the pair of them to be watching a single fallen angel, but quite another to be instigating a resistance in Heaven. She had confided her fears to her superior one day, when he came to hear her report.
"Bartholomew," she said, "I am concerned. How long can we continue like this? How long will our actions remain unnoticed by the arch-angels."
"I don't know," he admitted. "But they are our orders. I don't intend to disobey them. Do you?"
She looked at the ground, and spoke in a whisper. "No."
He used his illusionary hand to lift her chin, and smiled at her, his silver eyes shining with approval. "We do our Father's work, Avariel. This was his last instruction to us, before he disappeared. I know you are afraid. I am too. But we are also not alone. We have each other. Most of the grigori agree with us. We have their support."
And, just like that, Bartholomew's resistance became her resistance. "I" became "we", and "mine" became "ours." He trusted her more, after that. He confided in her each time he came to her. And once, not long before it all started going wrong, he shared with her his most valuable secret.
"He whispers to me," Bartholomew admitted. "I can barely hear him speaking, at times, but when I am able to hear, he tells me of his Plan. Would you like to hear the Plan, Avariel?"
"Yes," she said.
"Are you sure? Once you know the Plan, there is no going back. Once you know the Plan, you will be committed to carrying it out. If I should fall, you must take my place. Do you still want to hear it?"
"Tell me."
So he told her the Plan. She listened. It sounded like madness... but nobody had ever accused her master of being perfectly sane. And the Plan had the potential to save countless lives, both human and angel. But there was one thing she did not understand.
"Bartholomew," she said, "how am I supposed to continue without you? He does not speak to me."
"There is a way. But you cannot do it from here. You must go to the Earth. Take a vessel."
"That is forbidden!"
"Don't worry about it. He's working on a... loophole."
"There can be no loopholes, where the Decree is concerned." She was sure of that much.
"The loophole does not exist yet. But don't worry. When the time is right, it will be there. And once it is there, it will have always been there."
"So... what happens then? Once I am on Earth, and I have a vessel?"
"There is a sequence of numbers. It is very important that you remember them."
He told her the numbers, and she remembered them. Even when she came to Earth and took a vessel, she remembered them. Even when she was battling Zachariah, and then caged in a circle of fire, she remembered them. And now that she was free, she remembered them. All she had to do now was bide her time. She had not come this far to ruin everything with haste.
Back in the spare bedroom, Avariel felt a presence in the room with her. It was dark outside, now; she had been Watching the rest of the world, and her own memories, for hours, and yet it only felt like moments to her inner clock. She didn't bother moving, or speaking. She had learnt long ago that sometimes patience was the greatest virtue a person could possess.
"I need to ask you something," Castiel said, and she judged him to be not far behind her chair. "And I need you to give me straight answers, with no sarcastic remarks or half-truths or poorly executed jokes."
"None of my jokes are poorly executed," she said. Then, she extended her mind from her body, touching the logs in the fireplace with a small lashing of mental heat. They burst into flames, and began to burn, casting light and warmth into the room. "Ask your questions."
He stepped in front of the fire, so he could watch her face as he spoke. Whether he was looking for signs of deception she did not know, but he would see none. Unless he asked some very... awkward... questions, she had no reason to lie to him or deceive him in any way. Despite the enjoyment she got from aggravating him, she respected everything he had done, everything he had sacrificed because he felt he was doing the right thing. Even though he didn't know it, he was the one who had started the grigori rebellion.
"You can see everything," he said. Even though it wasn't a question, she nodded, and waited. He seemed to be having conflicting thoughts. She could see the indecision on the face of his vessel, and in his cold blue eyes. Whatever it was, it wasn't easy for him to ask. "Is God dead?"
"No," she said, with confidence. "God cannot be killed. Our Father will exist until the end of the universe. He will be the penultimate thing to go."
"Then where is He?" Castiel's eyes were troubled. She understood, now, why he was so conflicted. He wanted answers from his Father, but his Father was nowhere to be found. Raphael had told him that God was dead, but all anybody truly knew was that God was no longer in Heaven giving the orders.
"I don't know," she admitted. "Maybe He is here, on Earth. Maybe He is on a different world, or in a different reality."
"Can't you look for Him? As a Watcher, you are privy to all that happens, are you not?"
"Technically, yes. But even my sight has limits, and some things are simply too bright for me to look at. God is one of those things. The truth is, I have never seen him. No grigori has seen him, since Samyaza was cast out of Heaven. And I firmly believe that if I was to look for Him, He would take my sight from me." She leant forward in her chair. "Our Father does not want to be found, Castiel. I don't know why. Maybe He left us alone to see if we could fend for ourselves. Maybe He wanted us to step out from his shadow, and begin making our own decisions. Maybe He wants to see whether we will keep obeying, or whether we will just burn the Earth for the fun of it to spite Him. I wish I had answers to give you, I truly do. If I thought that God could be convinced to stop the apocalypse, I would join you in searching for Him. But He must know what is happening, and for some reason, He does not want to interfere too much. But He brought you back, and He pulled Dean and Sam from Lucifer's grasp and put them on a plane above the prison door. He saved you. All of you. That makes you important. Keep doing what you are doing, and perhaps our Father will reveal himself again."
"You speak with such conviction. Do you truly believe the words that you say?"
"With all my heart," she said. He gave her a look of suspicion. "Why do you not trust me, brother?"
"You have to ask?"
"I know," she sighed. "The grigori are untrustworthy sinners."
"That is not the reason why. Not the whole reason, anyway."
"Please enlighten me."
"You have been Watching me?" She nodded. "Then you are already enlightened. Perhaps you were not Watching as closely as you thought, or perhaps you failed to see that Uriel betrayed me and tried to kill me. That Michael and Raphael arranged for Lucifer to be released from his prison. That angels dragged me back to Heaven and forced me into compliance. That Raphael ended my existence for standing up to him. That Anna tried to kill my friends and their parents. You tell me, Avariel, why 'trust' is not something I have an abundance of, right now."
She could find no comforting words. He would not have believed her, if she had told him that she was not like the others. He had braced himself so completely for betrayal that he saw threats everywhere, and he would continue to do so until there was nothing left to threaten him. He was beyond a heartfelt plea or a well-meaning reassurance.
"You will trust me, in the end," she said.
"Right. When you help us to stop the apocalypse," he said sarcastically.
"Or when I die trying." He did not look as if he believed her, and she was running out of patience. "I know you don't trust me, Castiel," she said, "but I am here. I'm not going anywhere. And for as long as I am here, I am going to help, and save lives. Whether you believe me or not makes no difference to me. We might never be friends, but that doesn't mean we have to be enemies. If you need my help, ask, and you shall have it."
"Pretty words," he replied. "But until you have proven yourself, that's all they are. If I needed help, you would be the last angel on Earth or in Heaven that I would go to."
He teleported away, leaving Avariel alone once more. Castiel's words saddened her; how damaged he must be, how hurt by his fellow angels, to say such things. He was right to question her loyalties, because there were many things she had not spoken of, things which would not leave the angel or the brothers inclined to trust her. But she truly did have their best interests at heart. Just because she served another master did not mean she wished to harm them. She was still a grigori, and she still cared for humanity.
For the moment, there was nothing she could do about Castiel. Now that she was on Earth, watching him was no longer as important; she did it only to keep him from the Eyes of Heaven, and to keep tabs on the Winchesters. Now that she was here, she had somebody else to find. She turned her silver eyes towards the rest of the world, and began to search.
o - o - o - o - o
For two days Avariel remained in the bedroom upstairs. For two days she searched, scouring every corner of the Earth, but she could not find what she was looking for. Some things were hidden from her view; certain beasts, spirits, witches, demons and angels could hide themselves from the sight of Heaven, either through their innate abilities or magic. There were also 'dark spots' on the Earth, areas which generated certain fields that could bend light and reality in such a way that they became murky areas, invisible to even a Watcher's eyes.
Her searching was frustratingly fruitless, so she decided to take a break. The house was suspiciously quiet, and when she descended the stairs, she heard no voices talking. Glancing out of the window she noticed the Impala was gone from the front of the house, and she felt a brief moment of worry. Had somebody come and taken the boys from right beneath her nose? She worried until she stepped into the study, and found Bobby sitting behind his desk, looking like he was in desperate need of a good night's sleep and a shave.
"Hello, Bobby," she said, and he jumped at her silent arrival.
"Avariel," he replied, trying to behave like she hadn't frightened him. "How's the Watching going?"
"I see many things," she said vaguely. "Where are Sam and Dean? I noticed their car is gone."
"They got restless legs," he said. "There's only so much research they can do before they need to go out and find some action. They went off to investigate a rumour of werewolves."
"I see," she said. It did not fail to escape her notice that he didn't tell her where the boys had gone. Perhaps he was worried she would go rushing after them, leaving him alone, or perhaps he still didn't trust her. Either way, it didn't matter. What the Winchesters were doing right now was not important. "How is your research going?"
"I feel like every time I turn a page, I hit a brick wall," he admitted.
She nodded. She knew just how he felt. She'd hit more than one brick wall herself, over the past two days. And she'd also come to realise something. Right now, she needed Bobby's help with a problem, and she wasn't sure whether he would agree to help her.
"Bobby," she said, "I need to ask something of you."
"Oh? And what's that?"
"I need you to give me an order."
Both of his eyebrows rose towards his hairline. "You want me to order you to do something?"
"No. It is not a matter of want, but of need."
"Alright. I'll bite. What do you need?"
She took a deep breath. Once the words were spoken, there could be no going back. She would be fully committed to this course of action. But it had to be this way. She steeled herself.
"You must order me not to return to Heaven."
"Come again?"
"Heaven. Please order me not to return there."
"Is this a joke? You've been cast out of Heaven, haven't you? Why would you even want to return there?"
"I don't want to," she assured him. "Not right now, anyway. But other angels might come for me. They may attempt to take me back, to punish me, or interrogate me."
"You mean like they did with Cas?"
"Yes. I don't know if I can withstand interrogation. They might try to use me, to find out about you, and Dean, and Sam. I cannot allow that to happen."
"So... if I order you not to return to Heaven, they won't be able to take you back there?"
"That's right. An arch-angel could still force me to return, but that would mean breaking my oath, and I would be destroyed instantly. No chance for interrogation."
The look on his face spoke of surprise and disbelief. "Has it occurred to you that if I order you not to return to Heaven, an arch-angel might drag you back anyway, just to be rid of you?"
"Yes. But it is better that I die and they learn nothing, than I am interrogated and tell them everything. Please, Bobby. As my oath-keeper, you are the only one who can do this. It is your responsibility to protect yourself and the boys."
"Well, if you're sure," he said hesitantly. "Avariel, I order you not to return to Heaven."
She smiled. "Thank you, Bobby. I feel more... at ease... now that the order is in place. Is there anything I can do for you in return?"
"Finding a way to help us stop Lucifer would be useful."
"Of that I am aware. If I come across anything that could help, I will let you know. But I was speaking more of different things. I don't know about you, but I would like to go... hunting."
"You want to go hunting? What for?"
She took a seat, perching on the edge of his desk. "I would like to find a demon."
"That doesn't sound like something a sane person says."
"Perhaps not. But my motives are a little selfish. I would like to see if I am capable of exorcising a demon, or whether that ability was taken from me when I was cut off from Heaven."
"So what do you need me for?"
"Back-up," she said. "In case something goes wrong."
"Look," he sighed, "I know what you're trying to do, and I don't need it."
"What do you mean?"
"You're trying to make me feel useful again. It isn't necessary. You're more than capable of handling a demon on your own."
"I'm not!" she insisted truthfully. "I've never had a body before. I don't even know how to fight."
"You went up against Zachariah and you don't even know how to fight?"
"It's not the same," she told him. "I merely let Zachariah hurt me, so that my own pain would be inflicted on him. Of course, I have watched martial artists for centuries, but I've never fought anything before. I need your advice, and your guidance. Please, Bobby. I need to know what abilities are left to me, what my strengths and weaknesses are. I need you to help me learn how to survive."
"Yeah, right," he scoffed. "You need crippled old Bobby Singer to teach you how to get by. What are you, like five thousand years old or something?"
"Or something."
"So figure it out on your own."
"I could," she admitted. "I'm not stupid. But on my own, I'm going to make mistakes. I may be an angel, but I'm not infallible. I have plenty of knowledge, but no experience. I'd really like to have you watching my back."
He narrowed his eyes, giving her a skeptical stare. "So you're not just saying this stuff to make me feel useful and needed?"
"Oh yeah, I came down from Heaven just so I could hang around with you and be your raison d'être. I could be out there saving countless lives right now, and the only thing stopping me from doing that is the fact that you need someone to keep you company."
"No need to lay on the sarcasm, I get it. If you want me to wheel along after you and watch you kick demon ass, I'll do it. Personally I think that if you want back-up, you're better off waiting for Cas and the boys."
She smiled. "I like you better."
"Huh. Well... can't say I blame you. I'd pick me over those hot-headed idjits too. So, where are we going to?"
Avariel switched on what Dean had termed her 'Watcher-vision', and scanned around the house in a radius of a couple of hundred miles. There was a small dark ripple on the land, and she focused on that area, saw the town, the buildings, and then the face of the demon in the human it was possessing.
"I have located a demon. I believe it is alone, and should prove suitable for testing myself against."
"Well alright. Let me grab some supplies, and then we'll go exorcise us a demon."
o - o - o - o - o
Avariel teleported herself and Bobby to a quiet alley in the town centre. She had managed to find herself a black leather jacket, which had once belonged to Jo, and her pockets were filled with vials of holy water; an essential tool in fighting demons, Bobby told her. Both she and the hunter were also carrying bags containing different weapons; both mêlée weapons and guns, as well as a tub of grey paint and a brush. She could hardly expect the demon to stand still and be compliant whilst she tried to exorcise it, so she and Bobby had come up with the Plan.
"Where's the demon now?" Bobby asked her, lowering his bag to the floor.
She briefly engaged her Watcher-vision, checking on the demon's progress. "It's inside a café a few blocks from here."
"What's it doing there?"
"Ordering lunch, it would seem."
"Really? With Lucifer free, I thought demons the world over would be engaging in wholesale slaughter by now."
"It's more likely this one is a spy," she told him. "There are probably hundreds like it, in towns and cities across America, perhaps even across the whole world. They wait, and watch, and report back to Lucifer, helping him to choose his next targets."
"So... the demonic version of Watchers?"
"But far less benevolent."
He nodded. Of course, he knew exactly what demons were. This one would be shown no mercy. "Let's go over the plan one last time," he said.
"I am capable of remembering a plan, Bobby," she said, one corner of her mouth pulling into a smile. He was like this with Dean and Sam, too, always making sure they knew just what they were supposed to be doing, always double-checking to ensure their safety.
"Humour me."
"Very well. I am to allow the demon to see me. It will recognise me as an angel of the Lord. I will employ my wonderful acting skills to appear afraid of it. When I flee, it will give chase, and I will lead it here, into the devil's trap, where I will hopefully exorcise it with my slightly-less-than-divine touch. Have I understood the plan correctly?"
"It'll do. But no heroics, okay? We're doing this one by the book."
"Which book?" she asked, unfamiliar with the term despite her familiarity with human platitudes in general.
Bobby rolled his eyes. "It doesn't matter. Just get going. And don't get back too quickly, I have a devil's trap to paint."
"As you command."
She walked out of the alley and looked around. People were walking up and down the street, but they mostly ignored her. They were so wrapped up in their own tiny lives that they barely even saw her at all, except as an obstacle to be stepped around. How very like angels they were, at times.
Down the street she walked, in the direction of the café. She did not hurry, but walked at a comfortable pace, enjoying the sights around her. This was the first town she had been to, since taking a vessel, and it was noisier than she had thought it would be. Also, the air smelt less clean. It wasn't much like the farm, where Katie had grown up.
When she saw the café, she looked both ways before crossing the street, because road safety was very important. Sure that no traffic was coming, she crossed the road and reached the opposite pavement, smiling at her accomplishment. Her first road crossed. And soon, her first demon exorcism. Today was going to be a day of firsts, she decided.
It took her a moment to figure out how to open the door, but when she discovered that the side with the handle was the one that need to be pushed, she managed it without much difficulty. There was a sound as the door opened, and she looked up to see a small bell suspended above the door, which she supposed was to make a person feel welcome, as well as to alert the staff to the presence of a new customer. Very clever. In the olden days, a servant would have announced the arrival of a guest. Now, humans had a tiny piece of metal to do that for them. Was there any end to their ingenuity?
Upon entering the café, she stepped aside to allow another customer to exit, and looked around for the demon. She did not see it at first, because its back was towards her, but as soon as it turned its head she saw its true face, a grotesque, corrupted caricature of the human it had once been. To her eyes, there was nothing more ugly in the whole of existence than the face of a demon. This one was possessing the body of a young man, tall, athletic, probably attractive by human standards, wearing a suit. None of the other humans around him saw what he truly was. The term 'wolf in sheep's clothing' described the demons so perfectly that it could have been coined for them.
Her skin went cold when the demon looked at her; an instinctive reaction to its presence. When its eyes went briefly black, she stepped backwards, towards the door. The demon sneered at her, and she turned and fled. This time she did not stop to take road safety into consideration. She was supposed to be fleeing for her life, not proceeding to the emergency exit in an orderly fashion. In fact, she was almost hit by a car which managed to swerve at the last moment, and only when she was across the road did she risk a look back, to see ensure the demon was still following.
It was.
She increased her pace, running down the street, weaving in and out of people. Cries of alarm from behind told her that the demon was not being so considerate, and was likely shoving people out of the way in an effort to get to her. So focused was she on running, that she almost missed the turn for the alley, and skidding around the corner at the last moment, dashing forward in the direction of the alley's exit. She could see no sign of Bobby, nor of the devil's trap, but that had been the idea. It was why they had brought grey paint and not red; easier to conceal in a dark alley.
Halfway down the narrow alley, she stopped and turned, but continued walking backwards. There was a figure at the entrance to the alley, and it strode confidently towards her, its face flashing as the demon writhed beneath the surface. It gave her a horrible smile.
"Well well," it said, "look what wandered into my path. An angel... separated from the rest of the flock, perhaps? Why did you run, little angel? Afraid to face me in public? Afraid to show the humans what happens when a demon kills one of your kind?"
"Actually," she replied, as the demon stepped into the trap, "I was trying to lure you into this alley. Congratulations; you're the dumbest demon on the planet."
When it could not pass the outer ring of the trap, it realised how much trouble it was in and hissed angrily at her. Bobby appeared from behind a dumpster, wheeling himself down the alley to where the demon was stuck like a fly in amber.
"Good work," he said appreciatively.
"Thank you. Now, let's see what it takes to get rid of one of these."
She stepped into the devil's trap, and the demon lunged for her. She parried its strike easily enough, turning it on the spot and pinning its arm behind its back as she placed her right hand against its forehead. Focusing, she opened her mind to channel the divine wrath of God through her body, and... nothing. The demon started to laugh derisively.
"What's the matter, angel?" it chuckled menacingly. "Forgot to eat your spinach?"
She released the demon, pushing it away from her as she stepped out of the circle. Bobby gave her a sympathetic look, and she rolled her shoulders, trying to seem unconcerned by her failure. It was disappointing; demon-smiting was an angel's best ability. Without Heaven's power at her disposal, she was little more than a super-strong, highly intelligent teleporting human being. But she had known this might happen, when she had relinquished her place in Heaven, and it wasn't as if she'd spent her time smiting demons in the past. The ability was something she couldn't really miss because she'd never really had it. She would just have to adapt.
"I guess I'll have to do this the old fashioned way," she said. Closing her eyes, she recalled the incantation.
"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus
omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio
infernalis adversarii, omnis legio,
omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.
Ergo draco maledicte
et omnis legio diabolica
adjuramus te.
Cessa decipere humanas creaturas,
eisque aeternae Perditionis venenum propinare.
Vade, Satana, inventor et magister
omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis.
Humiliare sub potenti manu dei,
contremisce et effuge, invocato a
nobis sancto et terribili nomine,
quem inferi tremunt.
Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine.
Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire
te rogamus, audi nos.
Ut inimicos sanctae Ecclesiae humiliare digneris,
te rogamus, audi nos."
Black smoke, the demon's incorporeal form, began to spew out of the host's mouth, and pooled on the ground inside the devil's trap. The human host fell to its knees, and Avariel could only imagine the pain and horror it was experiencing right now. Once all of the demon was out of the body, she raised her hand.
"Depart this world, demon," she commanded it. "Return to the Hell whence you came."
There was a flash of bright orange light, like a fire passing through the smoke. It sank into the ground, burning without heat as it went, until all that was left was char on the earth, and the quivering, weeping form of the human. She looked to Bobby.
"That went better than I had hoped."
"Yeah. You did alright," he said, but he wasn't looking at her. He was looking at the human, who was trying to crawl upright from his hands and knees. Bobby wheeled his chair forward, coming to a stop just before the crying man. "Are you alright, kid?"
"That... that thing was inside me," the man said. The whites of his eyes were red, and his nose was all runny. Upset humans were... messy, Avariel decided. They leaked everywhere. "For weeks. It... it made me do things. I could hear its thoughts. It wanted me to kill people. Am... am I going to Hell?"
Bobby looked to Avariel for assistance. She stepped forward, and switched on her Watcher-vision. She really was going to have to come up with a better name for her innate ability, she realised. But for now, she had a human to console.
"Rise," she commanded, and the man looked at her, pushing himself finally to his feet. "You know what was inside you?"
"Y—yes," he sniffed, wiping a sleeve across his face.
"And you know what I am?"
"The... the thing... it thought you were an angel."
"I am. And you need not fear. I am watching over you, now. If a demon should come for you again, I will see it. I will return and banish it, as I banished this one. Go now. Lead a good life, help your fellows and pray to God. Do these things, and you will not have to fear going to Hell."
"Yes, of course! I will!" he said, eagerness for redemption in his eyes. "I swear, I'll do all that you say. Thank you, angel. Thank you!"
"Do not thank me, thank God, for I do his work," she said. "Return to your home now, and rest."
The man turned and fled the alley without even a backwards glance. Bobby huffed unhappily, and Avariel let her eyes turn back to blue as she turned her questioning gaze on him.
"You do not approve?" she asked.
"You coulda just told him that he's not going to Hell for what the demon did to him," he chastised. "Was there any need for the preaching?"
"I believe so, yes," she explained. "I do not decide who goes to Heaven, and who goes to Hell, nor do I know if that man has committed past transgressions. I have merely given him what he needs to ensure that any wrong he has ever done can be redeemed, and his soul saved by my Father if necessary."
"So are you doing this to save people, or make them worship God more?"
"A little of both," she admitted. "It is no secret that faith in my Father is declining. As science and technology advance, belief in my Father wanes. People no longer worship as they used to; they turn their thoughts and their prayers instead to their things, to their mobile telephones, their televisions, their twenty-four-hour convenience stores. Celebrities propagate idolatry, and people prostrate themselves at the shrines of the neon gods they've made. The godless people fill the airwaves with so-called evidence that there is no greater design or purpose to creation, except to serve as an example of natural order in a chaotic universe. Did you know, that the devil's greatest triumph was convincing the modern world that he does not exist? And because there is no devil, there can be no God, either. So yes, I am going to use what I am, and what I can do, to convince as many people as I can to believe in my Father. Because from where I'm standing, he doesn't seem inclined to do it himself."
"If God doesn't care whether people believe in him, then why do you?" he countered.
"Because somebody has to." She crouched down in front of him, to speak to him on his own level. "I don't know why my Father left Heaven. I don't know why he stopped commanding us, or why he stopped sending miracles to Earth, to convince people to worship him. But I intend to continue where he left off. I may not be able to perform true miracles, but I can save lives. I do not want people to worship me for this. I do not want to become yet another false idol. I merely want them to continue believing in my Father. Perhaps, if enough people believe, he will come back, and make all of this right."
"Do you really believe that?"
"I have to."
Bobby nodded in understanding. "I hear ya. I just wish I had your faith."
"The only thing stopping you from having faith, is you. Take the first step, and the rest becomes a little easier."
"And that in itself is easier said than done." He looked at the now useless devil's trap, and sighed. "So, what now?"
She activated her Watcher-vision once more, and something immediately sprang out.
"A young child is about to be hit by a bus in Maine. Time is of the essence. May I go and save him?"
"Yes, for the love of God, don't wait for—"
She did not wait to hear the rest of his sentence. Permission for her to depart granted, she teleported straight to the child's side, grasping his shoulder and teleporting again to the opposite side of the street. The bus roared past in a blur of engine and horn, and a woman screamed. Avariel's short hair was whipped by the breeze of the passing vehicle, and the five year old boy, still held by his shoulder, began to shake with fear.
A woman ran across the road, shouting the boy's name, careless of the traffic which beeped at her. Her eyes were fixed on the boy, and as soon as she reached Avariel she dropped to her knees and pulled her shaken son into a tight embrace, murmuring "Thomas, Thomas," over and over.
Avariel watched the pair with interest. She had often observed that non-violent physical contact was used to reassure a person, and to convey closeness, a sense of belonging, and comfort. In this case, however, the mother seemed not to be doing it to reassure the child, but to reassure herself that the child was alive and unharmed. When the woman finally turned her tear-stained face to Avariel, there was such gratitude in her eyes that Avariel decided she needed to do this more often.
"Thank you so much," the woman said. "I just turned my back for one minute, and he was gone. When I saw the bus... I thought I'd lost my son. I don't know how you reached him in time." The woman stared for a moment. "What's wrong with your eyes?"
"Nothing is wrong with my eyes," she said. "I am an angel of the Lord. This is what my eyes look like."
The woman continued to stare, as did several members of the crowd which was gathering in response to the near-tragedy. Avariel ignored them, and knelt down to address the boy.
"Thomas, you must be more careful when crossing the street in future. Before stepping into the road, you should stop, look, and listen. Check both directions for oncoming traffic, and do not set off unless the road is clear both ways. When you are halfway across, check again, just in case a vehicle is approaching at speed. Do you understand?"
The boy nodded mutely, his eyes wide and his face pale. Her work here done, Avariel stood, and looked at the gathering crowd. Suddenly, she felt uncomfortable. She had never been in a crowd of strangers before. Until now, her life in her vessel had consisted of people she knew because she had been watching them closely. And even though she hadn't technically known them personally for more than a week or two, she still felt comfortable with them. Bobby, the old warrior and keeper of knowledge, the patriarch, sensible and solid. Dean, the champion of Heaven, irreverent and determined to make his own decisions. Sam, the black sheep, equal parts scholar and fighter. Castiel, the fallen angel who answered their prayers and sometimes their phonecalls.
But these people, these strangers, were unknown to her, and they were looking at her with awe and deference, and even a little fear. She could not even find it within herself to make a speech about God; she simply teleported right out of the crowd, back to Bobby's side.
"Did you save the kid?" the grizzled hunter asked, as she arrived in a gust of wind.
"I am an angel," she replied, as much to settle her nerves as anything. "Of course I saved the kid."
"Good." He turned his chair around to face her. "You know, if any more of these emergencies crop up, you don't have to wait for me to say go. You have my permission to leave without warning, to save lives."
"Thank you," she said. "That is helpful."
"So... did you give 'em the God-speech?" he asked as he hefted his bag of unused supplies onto his knee.
"No," she admitted, glancing at the ground to avoid his eyes. "There was... a crowd. I did not feel comfortable... exposing myself to so many people at once."
Bobby chuckled.
"What's so funny?" she demanded.
"An angel getting performance anxiety."
"I do not have performance anxiety," she said tersely, disliking the tone of his accusation.
"Then... what? A crowd of people, ripe for the picking after witnessing a miracle, and you chose not to pluck the fruit from the tree?"
She teleported to the nearby dumpster, sitting on the top of it, her legs swinging over the edge. This line of conversation, she knew, was going to lead to questions. Questions she could not avoid answering.
"I suppose you think that all angels are like Castiel and his kind? Working in garrisons under the orders of seraphs and arch-angels, carrying out their missions to further the cause of Heaven?"
"That's what I did think," he admitted. "Until I met you, anyway. I know that you aren't really like the others. You're different."
She nodded. "There was a time, after the fall of Samyaza and the others, when any group of grigori congregating in one place would draw the eyes of the arch-angels. We were not trusted. Groups of us who stayed together were interrogated, and if deemed any sort of threat, executed. Out of necessity we split up, each of us retreating to different parts of Heaven, to Watch in solitude. Every few years a few of us would come together, very briefly, to commune, and share our experiences, to remind ourselves that we were not alone. But, for the most part, we led solitary lives. When surrounded by a group, I feel some discomfort. When I first awoke in my vessel, and found myself recovering in a ring of fire, even being in the presence of you, Sam, Dean and Castiel, brought back feelings of unease, and painful reminders of the punishments inflicted on grigori for being too social. Just now, in the crowd in Maine, I felt almost as if the eyes of the arch-angels were upon me. It was not a pleasant sensation."
"Just to make sure I'm understanding you right... you spent the few thousand years before coming here alone in Heaven?" he asked.
"Mostly, yes. So... just give me some time to adjust, okay?"
"As far as I'm concerned, Avariel, you can have all the time in the world," he said, treating her to a brief smile before a familiar melancholy entered his eyes. "But I think we both know that you don't have all the time in the world. Neither of us has."
"Yes," she agreed sadly. "Lucifer. The apocalypse. The world is going to Hell. My life as I have known it is over." She shivered involuntarily. "For the first time in thousands of years, I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow. Do you know what that is like? For thousands upon thousands of years, my life has been constant, unchanging. I have never had power. I've never wanted it. But when Bartholomew came to me, I suddenly became important to somebody. To something. I found a cause. A mission. It gave me something that I had never had before, something unique and precious; perspective. And suddenly, I was willing to sacrifice it all. Against my better judgement, I was willing to risk all that I had to protect this world and the humans in it."
"I understand," he said. "You heard a call. Same call that many hunters hear. You found something to believe in, and you believe in it. Maybe you're more human than you realise."
She smiled at the aptness of the statement. "As above, so below," she said. "Do you know what I like most about humanity?"
"Right now I'm going with 'icecream sundaes'," he guessed.
"No. Creation. Your works of art and music, your poetries and your stories. I can appreciate them... especially the music. Grigori enjoy music, and there is music inside everything in this world, if you know how to listen. Icecream sundaes might come in second, though."
"Huh. Maybe we have more in common than either of us thought."
"We have the same Father. It's only natural."
"I guess so." He looked once more at the defunct demon trap. "Well, looks like our work here is done. We exorcised a demon, saved the host, and you even managed to throw a kid into the mix. Wanna call it a day and head back home?"
"Yes, I would like that," she said with a smile for the grizzled hunter. "Can we stop for icecream, on the way?"
- o -