So... I got together enough to post this horrific chapter.
It's actually awful and I'm so sorry.
AKA is Kill Them All... a God
Im sure that has no bearing to anything else at all in the next while no hahahaha...
Also, the playlist!
playlist?list=PLRND65E8OybM1gdtYn1lXcTEB9tWXqHnn
{Spring, Before}
It was another screaming match.
This time, Gabriel didn't go investigating, didn't go waiting, didn't go looking.
Instead, he went to the training grounds.
Other angels were there, blades clashing with showers of silver sparks, practicing with either constructs of the real deal.
Reds, golds, blues and browns danced between movements as the angels swirled in and out of combat. A few angels stood at the sides, watching the practice with interest and calculating coldness. Another specific one, wings of red and pink, flecks of gold lining them, stood with a group of young angels with undersized, puffy wings. One particular one, white and gold winged, peeked with curiosity, trepidation and amazement at the sparring. Gabriel smiled at all of them, even if he couldn't go down and greet them.
Gabriel knew that his older brothers' fighting had made all the Archangels nearly unapproachable. He hated it.
So, not wanting to disturb the angels sparring underneath him, Gabriel turned away from them and flew fast for the other side of Heaven, his decision made. Within hours, he was looking to a place he once had shared with all his brothers.
The Silver Cliffs, and their twisted Destiny.
Gabriel landed on the undisturbed grass, so far from any type of angelic life, he couldn't even hear Michael and Lucifer.
The peace, and sudden silence, astounded him. He was unused to it, having been taken care of by his older brothers for years, and then listening to them scream at each other in the new form of twenty-four hours, seven days in a week.
But sitting on that cliff again, for the first time in a long time, Gabriel started to feel his grace cool. Gabriel had feared coming out onto the Cliffs for the reason that that time, he knew he'd be alone. He had never really been alone before, surrounded in silence and empty air.
It was more peaceful than he could've ever imagined.
Gabriel liked the silence. He thought it was something to hate, to fear, because it meant he didn't have a friend to his name, or a person to help and talk to him.
But it was perfect.
Gabriel glid down the rock face, movements slow and cautious, fingers trailing across the silvery rocks that gave the cliff its name. When he landed on the ground in the sheltered shadow of the huge, cut apart hill, Gabriel wandered to the small cave he knew was in it's corner.
He never told anyone about it, not even Lucifer. Back then, he did it because it made pranks easier. It was about to get a new purpose.
Crawling in it was harder than he remembered as a fledgling, but it was a similar concept. Feet first, hands on the top edge, slip inside, pull wings in. Easy.
Plus, it was wide enough inside to fit all four Archangels plus Castiel, a young angel with black wings, and Balthazar, another young angel with purple-ish wings. The entrance was just tiny.
Slipping inside, Gabriel sighed gently, rearranging his feathers with soft humming noises. He had brought a small bag of a material that would one day be called 'cotton' on Earth, but for now it was called fluff. It would form one part of a nice makeshift bed, one where Gabriel could come and hide in whenever he wanted.
Exhaustion washed over him, forcing him to pull his wings into his chest with a soft sigh, eyes fluttering shut as he lay on the cotton bedding. He was tired. Tired of hearing them fight, tired of the constant rip of grace across the sky, tired of his younger siblings... fearing him.
Suddenly, being alone didn't seem so bad.
They couldn't fear him while he was far away, and if they did, he couldn't feel their frightened gazes. Michael and Lucifer couldn't snap at him.
Gabriel curled in on himself, grace compacting itself to a tiny bead in his chest, ignored and unimportant, it's flare dulled to a soft glow. He didn't want that bead in his chest. He didn't want the responsibility or power that came with it.
And so, shoving away his grace, Gabriel wrapped himself fully in his wings, shut his eyes, and passed into blackness. His sleep was dreamless.
{January, 1910}
The world was bright and clean again, the new year having brought more experience, more brilliance, and more promise of new hope.
Though, Gabriel was starting to feel... skittish.
His grace was reacting oddly to his distance from Heaven, a problem he never expected to experience.
Namely, because Gabriel had been expecting himself dead by the early 1400s.
Admittedly, he'd been begging for it for years. Everyone kind of took 'Loki's' exuberance with his abilities, his overexposure, everything, as some form of calling card to himself.
Somewhere, subconsciously, Gabriel wanted someone to catch him. To find a way to kill him. Because he was sick of the noise.
When he first left Heaven, Gabriel had left himself open to everything but location. He listened to the angels when he wanted to, ignored it the rest of the time. Somedays, he would simply rest, faking sleep and just hearing, letting the Enochian flow over him and remind him of home.
But then it started to get oppressive. It started to shove down on his shoulders, dragging him under his grace and into a world of roaring, competing, angered voices.
Loki, through their strained, minor connection, must've sensed his distress, because for a moment the energy within him flared up, sucked away the noise and replaced it with simple silence and cold.
So Gabriel started working to die.
Tyr, Forseti and Kali noticed first, their little gang of misfits and outsiders. Closest friends that the pagans ever formed.
They noticed when Loki's tricks started being more obvious and less hidden, more direct irony and less quiet trickery. When Loki started drinking in a corner at parties, only smiling when someone waved at him, raising his drink with a half smirk that seemed... off.
When Loki started aiming for actual fights rather than half-done sparring matches.
When he disappeared for a week and a half, and came back with his chest half ripped to pieces and holding his ribs together, but laughing. He had slain a Scorpicore, which was basically a bigger, meaner Manticore.
Gabriel had run off, wanting a challenge, something, anything that could kill him. He picked a Scorpicore and fought. And when it pounced on him and ripped into his chest, he realized that Loki, the real Loki, must've kept an eye on his investments because Fenris shot from nowhere, snarling brutally, distracting the Scorpicore just long enough for Gabriel to slam the oil-covered pike through it's chest.
And then he started giggling.
The huge black wolf, green eyes glittering, walked closer, whining at him concernedly.
He laughed. Because half his chest was ripped to pieces and he still wasn't dead.
C'mon Dad... He thought dizzily to the sky, all of his energy bleeding away. His vessel was loosing blood fast, his grace was cut to pieces, and Loki's energy couldn't have a hope to repair it all as it was. Do me a favour... Let it all just... go silent for a while.
Fenris had nosed him and barked, licked and yelped until he convinced his unresponsive limbs to move upward, to stand slowly and lean on the wolf.
When he came back to their little slice of half-reality, where they could just... live, like people for a while, Kali spotted him first.
"Brahma dvaara!" Kali exclaimed, and her voice, someone else finally seeing how actually damaged he was, broke him.
Loki collapsed under the weight of his injuries, while Gabriel collapsed under the weight of his sins. One way or the other, they both hit the floor.
"Taayar, yahaan apane gadhe milata hai!" Kali had shouted to the rest of the room, speaking in Hindi, because that was her native tongue. Gabriel, or maybe Loki, he forgot by this point the distinction between them. They both left their homes, betrayed their people. They both hated themselves. Who gave a fuck who was what?
Tyr skidded on the floor, long blond hair forming a golden sheet around his shoulders as Kali leaned Loki, Gabriel, on her side, calling his name, or the name he was faking being in multiple languages, Forseti appearing seconds later.
He didn't remember much after that, until he woke up again.
When he woke up, he was glad for the fact that he was the only one in the room. Because he woke up and started crying.
God couldn't even be bothered to let him die.
Dad really didn't care.
That hurt worst.
He noticed Fenris sticking particularly close after that, watching him with sharp, suspicious eyes.
So Gabriel didn't do anything stupid, he let himself relax. Go back to being normal Trickster, if a little obvious.
But now he had been too far from Heaven for too long.
He had to go back, soon. Even for a few days.
So he took a few names out of Isabelle's book, set them on a piece of paper, and started packing up. Marcus stumbled in on him just as he placed his blade in the bag.
"So, were you going to tell us about the hunt you're apparently packing for?" The older Man of Letters announced, making Gabriel fumble with the blade slightly, body locking up.
"Going to burn some demons." Gabriel resumed packing after his pause. "You want to come?"
"That's not the reason you're leaving Gabriel." Marcus stepped further inside, and this time, Gabriel's anxiety rose. Fortunately, he had come up with a plan for just such a situation.
Turning around with his head down, Gabriel stared at the floor for a long time. "I uh..." He began. "...It's my sister." He said. "She's sick. I'm gonna go visit her, go take care of some things at the same time."
Marcus seemed taken aback. Gabriel had definitely made up a whole history of Gabriel Moran, taking the place of the eldest Moran son. Though, he had been very careful to rarely discuss his 'family' around the others, so that when he mentioned something wrong, it would be real and sudden-feeling.
Which was why nobody stopped him, nobody interrupted him, only to send their condolences to Julie Moran, and Gabriel reassured that he would be back soon, and give their 'get well's to Julie.
Which was why the minute he had the car out of sight from the Bunker, he wrapped the whole thing in his wings and vanished from view.
Gabriel had sent the car to a hiding spot at the same time that he slingshotted for the skyline, wings streaking out behind him as he wreathed Loki's energy around himself, changing his wings to a lighter colour, more soft gold and white, less pure metallic. He pulled his lower two pairs into a disguised position as well, shoving a ton of his energy under the rug in an attempt to hide his Archangelic position.
The few times he had snuck into Heaven before, to steal something or hide something, he had used the angel Duma. Duma, a scribe, wasn't well known or strong, so making himself look and act like the softly golden and white-winged angel was easy, saying he was simply taking a walk to clear the numbers from his mind.
Hannah, an angel with silvery wings, stopped him though, as he flew over one of the angel's garrisons.
"Duma! I didn't expect you out at this time of day." She exclaimed, jumping up to fly beside him.
Gabriel froze up, unable to interact with the angel. It had been a long time since he had met another of his species, especially in Heaven. Gabriel had been aiming for the Silver Cliffs, hoping to spend his day hiding and sleeping in Heaven's light. He hoped that would be enough to replenish himself.
"U-uh... y-yeah!" He stammered, looking desperately for an escape. "I um..." he glanced to the side. "Needed to clear my head." With a firm nod, Gabriel dipped his wings down and swooped underneath Hannah, preforming a small flip maneuver that shot him forward, away from angelic civilization.
What he wasn't aware of, was Hannah watching his trick with astonishment. That type of flying, the ease and skill that Duma displayed, hadn't been seen for a long time.
While she observed him glide off, she didn't follow him, a fact that Gabriel was eternally grateful for.
He spent the next half hour avoiding angelkind as he traveled across Heaven, darting and dodging with speed that apparently, most angels had lost. They didn't enjoy flying anymore.
The only one he had seen that could truly fly, and make it look good, was Castiel. The young angel's satin black wings shone in the sunlight as he dipped and dove, playing with another angel. The smaller angel and his fluffy white and reddish marked wings chased Castiel all over, though the black-winged angel was clearly the more skillful flier. Even if the younger had been faster than Castiel, he would've been easily outmanoeuvred.
Gabriel swooped into the forest, hiding as yet more angels passed by, crouching down and letting Loki's simmering cloak pull away briefly, his darker feathers blending into the autumn, sunlit section of the forest.
The silvery forest's season was strange.
Not that he cared.
Moving fast through the forest, he glid between trees, wings only half-spread to compete with the cris-crossing branches of the tangled woods, shooting swiftly and easily around the trees.
Ahead, voices forced him to warp his course, lunging to the side to avoid being seen. Below, two very young fledglings wandered, one with pearlescent, powder blue wings and the other with soft orange, rust-tipped wings.
"We're lost, Eth!" The small blue one announced.
"Och, it's alright. I'm sure that we can call someone, if they can... hear us..." Eth replied, searching the tree line, acting tough even though her wings were trembling.
Och looked closely as well, his head set on a constant swivel, trying to find any help in the distance.
Gabriel knew that angels rarely visited the forest anymore. Michael had forbidden it. It's proximity to the Silver Cliffs was too close for comfort, especially with most of their siblings as absolutely terrible casual fliers.
He turned away slightly, shuffling his wings close to his back and starting for the Cliffs again, when Och whimpered, hearing the rustling of branches above her head.
Immediately, Gabriel bit back a noise of sympathy. He couldn't leave, not even at risk of his own capture, a pair of lost fledglings alone. It actively hurt his heart to even think of it.
So, he carefully put one hand on the branch under his feet and slid down, half-flaring his wings to land easily. "Hey kids." He called, walking over to the skittish fledglings.
"Wh-who are you?" Eth questioned, stepping in front of Och.
"That's not really important." Gabriel reasoned, holding out his hands. "What are you two doing way out here?"
They both paused, looking stricken, before shuffling their feet and staring at the ground. "...We wanted to see what the Archangel's Forest looked like." Och admitted quietly, grinding the toe of her golden sandal into the dirt.
"The Archangel's Forest..?" Gabriel mumbled, considering that name. He supposed it was accurate. He and his brothers had spent a lot of time in the woods. "Well... Did you like it?" He asked, kneeling down in front of them. He had never liked dealing with the politics and commands of older angels, but fledglings he could handle. Especially nervous ones.
Eth and Och, who had obviously expected to be punished, glanced between each other before looking back to Gabriel. "I-it's... Really pretty." Eth smiled, gazing around them at the silver and pearl bark of the trees, and their glassine leaves. "...I see now why they liked it here."
"It is really pretty, isn't it?" Gabriel nodded, keeping a pleasant face as Eth edged a little closer to him. Och made a sound of agreement, stepping toward him as well. "Yeah, it's really beautiful here." He sighed, running a hand along one of the trees with a sense of forlorn love. "But the forest is really big, isn't it?"
"Yeah!" Och piped up. "I thought I could make it through, but... I guess I wasn't big enough yet." He glanced down again.
"It's too big!" Eth's eyes widened in fear. "I... I thought that an Archangel was gonna find me! They can be mean..."
If Gabriel was closer to Michael in any way, shape or form, he would've flown a beeline to him and backhanded him for that alone. As it stood, he simply made a hum of agreement. "Yeah, they can be some days." He gave a sad smile. "But hey, nothing's gonna hurt you in this old place."
"What if there is something, though?" Och questioned, glancing around frantically. Which was when, conveniently, the wind made a branch snap.
Both the young angels jumped, whirling around while Gabriel tried to shush their whimpers and cries.
"Hey, it's alright." Gabriel comforted, and he held out a hand to the young angels. This time, both of them shot for him rather than away, Och immediately hiding his head in Gabriel's chest while Eth hugged tightly under his arm. "There you go..." He murmured, petting their wings gently, trying to get them to stop shaking.
It took a few minutes to get the terrified fledglings to relax, cradled against him, but by that point they were both looking exhausted, yawning, wings fluffing up and trying to cuddle against him more.
"Hey, you two... You can nap on the way back, ok, but I need you to tell me who your guardians are." He shook them both a little, both only Och opened his eyes.
"...D'n't kn'w you..." He mumbled. "...G'nna be mad..."
"...Riel. My name is Riel." He said. "And yeah, they are, but they're gonna be glad you're safe first. Who's your guardian, kiddo?"
"...S'raphiel..." He yawned, leaning further onto Gabriel. The Archangel sighed, but didn't dare put him down.
It took some finangling, but he managed to get Och tied to his back using his robe, carrying Eth against his stomach as he spread out all six of his wings, four of them still cloaked, taking flight above the forest and heading back to the nearest garrison to begin his search.
He could hear a pair of panicked shouts at the next garrison over, so rather than distract himself, he changed course and headed for the second one instead.
In front of the doors, calling loudly with wings fluttering in worry, two angels flitted about, asking others, searching, trying to find their fledglings.
His wingbeats declared his presence first. "Is one of you Seraphiel?" He announced, gliding down and landing without jarring either of the small angels in his current care. "Because I think I found your fledgling." Reaching behind his shoulder to untie Och from his sling, Gabriel held both of them to his chest.
The other angel, a male with green wings, shot forward to see as well. "You found them!" He exclaimed joyfully, reaching hands out for Eth. "Thank you." He whispered fervently, hugging her to his chest and stirring her awake. "Thank you!"
"No biggie." Gabriel shrugged, handing Och off to the female angel with soft purple wings. "They found me, really."
Seraphiel wrapped Och in her wings, holding him tight. "Thank you. You are too modest, even for one of us." She stepped forward to tap their wings together, an angelic 'Thank-you' hug, before looking to Och. "Where in Heaven did you find them?"
"I'll tell you, but don't go too hard on 'em. They're just fledglings." At their nods, he continued. "They went to go see the si- Archangel's Forest. Heard it was pretty, and they wanted to see for themselves. They got lost pretty quick."
"Oh, these naughty little-"
"Hey, no name calling now, sister." Gabriel gestured for her to ease off. "They're alright. Just went to go satisfy some curiosity. In my opinion, you've got a pair of capable little fledglings on your hands." He nodded to them.
The second angel, Zikiel, gave him an odd look. "What do you mean?"
"Well, they managed to evade you, sneak through a garrison, get to the forest, and then go deep enough in it to get lost." Gabriel listed. "Quite the escape artists, I'd say. They'll be great when they get older."
"...Yes." Seraphiel nodded considerately. "...You are right. For now, we'll just... make sure they know not to run off. Thank you, brother."
Gabriel let out a hum of response, turning to leave, when Zikiel spoke again. "I don't recognize you, brother, and my apologies. Remind me of your true name?"
He paused. "...Riel." He finally answered, then spread his wings and took to the air again.
Och glanced up just in time to watch him go, lifting a hand to wave. "...Bye, Riel."
Gabriel, briefly, wished that he was more selfish.
When he made it to the cave, or as he jokingly called it, Silence Cavern, Gabriel felt peace and exhaustion sweep him.
Everything was exactly how it was the day he left it. The cotton bed was rolled up, the notes for where he was going to go once on Earth, his carvings on the wall, everything. Not a speck of dust, out of place.
Just now, Gabriel himself was.
He wasn't... that, anymore. That Gabriel wanted out. This Gabriel... he wanted to come back.
He couldn't though.
So, unrolling the cotton pad, Gabriel lay down and shut his eyes, determining that he didn't deserve anything that anyone gave him.
Blissfully, he didn't continue on that train of thought for long.
He fell asleep before that.
{December, 2013}
Tabris made the perfect choice.
Golden wings, marked with deep brown rather similarly to his own. Silver feather-shafts rather than full on gold, but close enough. He could shift the colour pretty easily. The burning on her feathers would also be easy to fake.
She had died in the fall, but had crashed a good distance from anyone else. She had burned up so fast that she barely had time to scream, her excruciating pain condensed into the span of seconds rather than minutes. It had probably been easier than anyone else's death.
Gabriel knew, because he had been the one to pull her body out of a sand crater in the Sahara.
The shifting dust had long-since covered up the burn-marks where her wings should've been, though some kicking uncovered glass pieces in the shape of feathers.
He kept one for the sake of remembrance.
Gabriel felt blank. A puzzle, missing all it's pieces, scattered to the four winds and back.
Not back together, just... back. Arranged in a loose pile for someone to reassemble.
And his putting it back together was going too perfectly.
He tracked down Malachi's people first. The factions were starting to gather up non-combatant angels, put them into fighting with the others. Gabriel needed to help end this war. What better way to do that, than from the inside?
His 'recruiter' was an angel named Arak, who he played at resisting for the first few minutes, then resigned to being captured.
Arak pulled him into Malachi's base of operations, a concrete maze that Gabriel navigated easily, because the idiots had let him walk by himself.
Twelve steps straight, right hand turn, third door by the echos... A whole bunch of other things I could navigate in my sleep... Wow...
There were far fewer angels than there should've been, the ones remaining moving around nervously and swiftly, as if they were afraid of him already.
You should be. Gabriel thought, biting the corner of his lip to hold in the snarl.
When the cloth sack was yanked off his head, Gabriel instantly recognized Malachi's fire-red wings, though this time they were charred and burned, missing feathers and skin, wounds cauterized by unbelievable power.
"Tabris... Sister..." Malachi nodded to his guard, who immediately stepped back with a curt bow. "I hope they did not harm you."
"You'll find they didn't." Gabriel responded, narrowing his eyes at the other angel. He knew that Malachi was calling him 'sister' because Tabris and her golden wings definitely had a sweeter, higher-pitched song than any of her brothers.
"Good." He purred. "I am glad." He stepped forward, carefully taking Gabriel's ropes in his hand, starting to untie them. The holy-oil soaked coarse ties didn't hurt him as much as they should've, Loki's energy matching his grace inch for inch. "Listen, sister." Malachi began, and Gabriel had expected it. "We are at war. Bartholomew is trying to take over. The fight has become madness, and every angel is required at service."
"You are asking me to fight for you." Gabriel responded, keeping his tone even and cadence light. How an angel talked.
"Yes." Malachi nodded with a smile, his seedy-looking vessel's hair bobbing with his motions. "It's time to go to war, sister. War for Heaven."
"War for Heaven." Gabriel repeated, as though he didn't know. Oh, I know, Malachi. I know too well. This war ruined my quiet, pleasant little life. He thought with a low hiss that never made it out of his throat.
"Yes!" He quietly cheered, a little bit of crazy rearing it's ugly head. "The new rulers are being decided. Myself, or that sinner Bartholomew. We will fight this war on Earth, and the winner shall return to Heaven to defeat Metatron."
Oh, one of us is going to Heaven to rip Metatron in half, but it sure as shit ain't you. Gabriel's intrusive thoughts were never stated, but he stared in faked skeptic confusion at Malachi. "...You wish of me to join you." He surmised. Because that's how angels were.
"Precisely. We will return to Heaven, sister. I promise you." Malachi reassured, finishing freeing Gabriel from the useless binds.
That was one other thing that Gabriel had noticed with his new combination with Loki's energy; Holy oil, wards and blood sigils didn't do as much as they should've anymore. Holy oil hurt like a bitch to walk over, but he could. Wards made him feel odd inside, and if he walked through one it was painful, but other than that, not much. Blood sigils, like a banishing sigil, he hadn't tested, but he imagined it wouldn't do much more than cripple him for a while.
"...If it means returning to Heaven..." Gabriel began, looking at the ground to hide his smirk. "Then I will fight."
He felt like Malachi smirked wider than he should've.
'Tabris' was introduced to a commander, a younger angel named Ambriel.
Ambriel was a hardened warrior with tough blue and red wings, burned though they were. He ran his set of five angels - 'Tabris', Aratron, Hariel, Isda and Phuel - with an iron fist, ruling the fact that Malachi had chosen him to lead them over their heads like a storm cloud.
Aratron, Hariel, Isda and Phuel seemed to hold a weird brand of respect to him for it, but Gabriel didn't buy half a second of what he was selling.
Which was why he made Ambriel his first target.
Gabriel started collecting names. He didn't want to have to slaughter every angel in the bases, because he still had Bartholomew to deal with and the longer that he was fighting with Malachi, the easier it made his job. On top of that, all he had to do was discredit the leaders to get the angels around them to disband, or overthrow. Hopefully, few deaths would be required for it.
Ambriel, Dokiel, Theo, Geniel, Baris, Matriel. It really hadn't taken long to assemble a list of some of the top angels for Malachi, being the fact that he had to know to obey them.
The angels that Bartholomew had at the head of things were also relatively easy to find. Ambriel had been delighted to know that 'Tabris', his best fighter and strategist, was so interested in the affairs of their opponents. Adnachiel, Diniel, Trismegistus, Ofaniel, Sophia, and Alphun.
Gabriel had rolled his eyes and scoffed internally, simply thanking on the outside.
Their first 'mission' involved driving, in ridiculously over-stereotypical biker gang outfits, to a church choir in Montana.
Gabriel wore the leather jacket they gave him, but rather than the baggy cargo pants, he put on a few gold chains and a pair of ripped, skintight black jeans. Goth biker boy. He thought with a smirk, as Ambriel checked out his fake 'true form' with interest. Dad, eat your heart out.
Casually sticking a lollipop between his teeth with a loose grin and a flirty wink, Gabriel hopped on the bike they had given him and followed Ambriel carefully, staying back, but within a few feet, in perfect formation.
He had already decided this round. He'd just work with them. Do exactly as commanded, figure out what their fighting styles were so he could take them out better.
When they rolled into the choir, Gabriel did a power-sweep of the area. Eight angels, all inside. No humans. He hummed faintly with satisfaction, knowing that there would be no collateral damage today. He didn't have the stomach to hurt one of the creations he worked so hard to protect.
Ambriel led them up, his order to follow showing that he obviously intended to walk right through the front door with a kick and an open challenge.
"Um, sir." Gabriel piped up, slowing to a walk. "Perhaps we should... Go around?" He asked at their looks. "Attack from behind?"
Silence for a moment. "...Are you questioning me, Tabris?"
"N-no, sir!" Yes, sir. "I was simply wondering if it would be a more intelligent move to go around." Because you're going to lose an angel in this if you attack head on.
"...No." Ambriel answered, and threw the door down.
Exactly as Gabriel had expected, they were gathered and expectant, waiting for the group of their six combatants to just walk on in. Precisely like they had.
Combat in a hallway was never good, and that much Gabriel knew. While the others clambered over and around, trying to support Isda, trapped at the front, he jogged back a few paces, then ran forward, using the wall as a running platform. He went over the other angels, landing behind choir sisters with a flourish, drawing his blade with a soft noise, smooth, cold silver gripped in his palm tightly.
"Heya." He murmured, grabbing the one of them by the wrist.
She jerked, turning around just in time for Gabriel to drive his blade through her sternum. The howling shriek of agony filled his head as the angel burned around the silver in her chest, Archangel's fire definitely making the process faster.
By that point, everyone else had suddenly realized where he was, and it went from push-pull battle in the middle of a hallway to full blown firefight.
One of the girls, a brown-haired lady still in one of those pink dresses, pounced on him, knocking him onto his spine. Immediately, Gabriel rocked backward, planting his feet on her stomach and rolling onto his feet at the same time that he shot her down the hall.
Temporarily leaving her be, Gabriel left his back to brown-haired girl, facing off with a blond.
"...So, what do I know you as, sister?"
"Tabris." Gabriel responded, flipping his knife around his wrist. "Forgotten me so fast, Fariel?"
"You only wish."
"Never." Gabriel purred, the smile in his voice nothing like the coldness on his face.
Fariel moved first, lunging in with a sidestep and a quick slash. Gabriel dodged easily, slicing into her arm. She let out an enraged shriek that matched the noise her grace made, silencing to attack again. Which gave Gabriel just enough time to hear where the brunette was.
Darting forward, Gabriel cut an enormous gash across her stomach, literally gutting her human vessel.
Fariel staggered back with a rough choking noise, her grace bleeding out onto her dress like a waterfall, in time for Gabriel to flip his knife, pointing back, and drive it into brownie's ribs, through her heart.
Then came the shriek of an angel dying, but not one of the ones he had slain.
"HARIEL!" Isda screeched, flaring her wings behind her as she attacked the angel standing over Hariel's limp body, her wings burned into the walls. Her killer moved forward, going for Isda next.
Gabriel got there first, an instinct in him shrieking for him to reach out and drive his blade through the attacker's wing, rather than their physical body. Instead, he simply settled for cutting her through the shoulder, causing her to stagger away from Hariel's corpse, and Ambriel subsequently spearing her.
Gabriel didn't say it. None of them said it.
If they had gone around the back and flanked, Hariel would still be alive.
Gabriel shot awake at 2 am, sleep an utterly lost cause. He didn't need to, but it still made him feel more... human.
Helped him remind himself of what he was still fighting for.
Unfortunately, that had become a strange concept.
Sam? Revenge? Because I should? He wondered, and deep in his chest another feeling arose, something he hadn't felt this strongly in nearly a millennia.
Instinct.
Archangels had it. It helped guide them, showing itself only when wars actually happened. Gabriel had felt it during his brothers' fighting, during the war with Hell for the Righteous Man, during the angelic civil war, and now. The last time it had been that strong, he had to decide between his brother in Heaven, and the one who he was closer to.
He had decided not to choose, and he ran off. Now, he didn't have that option.
So, silently, Gabriel pulled himself up, back against the wall, leaning his head to rest. Eyes fluttering shut, he relaxed, mostly boneless, with the wall supporting him.
Emotions buried at Gadreel's betrayal resurfaced, making Gabriel slump over, falling on his side. He blinked a few times, trying to understand why he had fallen, right before the tears started.
He wasn't certain why he was crying. Why then, why there, but he wondered if Archangel instincts and the personal Hell that came with them had flared up his emotions, making them run screaming. Because he knew that if he just... Let Archangel instincts go wild, he would turn into a cold, deadly machine.
It might've been preferable to the rippling agony of emotions that coursed through him. He hated it.
Gabriel rolled onto his side, facing the wall opposite. The cold concrete under his cheek felt like ice and disrupt, breaking his supposedly cohesive thoughts into a thousand pieces. It was tiring.
Gabriel closed his eyes, wanting to go back to sleep.
"Tabris?" A new voice asked, the door to his little room sliding open.
"I-Isda." Gabriel shoved off the floor, turning to face the other angel. "H-hey. What can I uh-" He stammered, wiping his face absentmindedly. "What can I do for ya'?"
"I mostly... wished to thank you." Isda slipped into the room, sitting beside him carefully. "You... You saved my life today. Being on earth has taught me to... value that."
"...You're welcome, but that isn't exactly something you need to thank me for." Gabriel shrugged. At her confused look, he continued. "It's uh... More like something that teammates do."
"Teammates? Are we not simply warriors in a special garrison?" She questioned with a head tilt.
"It..." Gabriel swallowed, the feelings from earlier rising up as he started explaining. "...Teammates have a different connection. We... we're like a little bit of a family."
"Tabris, all angels are family." Isda stated, and Gabriel had to force himself not to roll his eyes. I swear to Dad, this is why I left home.
"Yeah, Isda, but... closer. Really close. We know each other forward and back, and we care more deeply. Like, look at a human family. A good one. They all lean on each other, and they all stay up." He couldn't help but think of the Winchesters and their strange relationship, the codependence with a poor imitation of self-determination.
"...Is that not how angels are?"
"Isda, look around." Gabriel sighed, feeling like he was trying to teach a fledgling to fly. "We're at war with our family. That's a feud. Not family."
"...And... If we are then, a family, what is it to be 'teammates'?" She questioned.
"Teammates are... like a family, but a family of warriors. And not a family in the biological sense, no. Think of teammates like a family in every way, shape and form, except biology. They love each other, but they aren't sibling related, though it can feel that way." Gabriel explained.
"...You speak as though you have experienced this." Isda noted, looking at him more carefully. Gabriel made sure the imitation of Tabris was at full strength before continuing.
"I have. I've been on earth for a while. You... Pick up a few things." Gabriel chuckled wearily. Yeah, like feelings, pain, hatred and cynicism.
"...Thank you, Tabris." Isda smiled, standing. "...I will inform the others not to bother you, in your meditation."
"That would be-" He paused for a moment, considering that with a dark feeling in his chest. "...Nice. Thanks."
And, with plans brewing in his mind for the next night, Gabriel fell asleep.
The next night had him flying effortlessly out of the camp.
The day had been boring, pointless, and fruitless. Some basic training that he could've done blind and deaf, some Heaven-like combat sparring... Nothing useful. Like learning how to blend in properly, or a little dirty fighting. Because what Bartholomew's angels won't expect is a rough backhand. And that might keep Isda and the others alive for another damn day.
They got a new angel into their group, Manakel, who seemed too eager to get to the fighting.
Gabriel, meanwhile, had other plans. Meaner plans.
He had let his power loose a little when they had gone scouting, and had immediately fixated on Sophia, her energy burning within the base they had cased around, acting casual.
Angels acting casual was entertaining to say the least, how they had awkwardly walked in relaxed circles around areas, or sat in the same bus stop for hours at a time, staring at nothing.
Gabriel, meanwhile, had cased the building properly.
He circled it like a shadow a few times, inconspicuously far, but also closer than most. He knew where the windows and doors were. Which ones were locked, which ones weren't.
That, he didn't even need Archangel powers for. He knew how to stalk a building through the Men of Letters' training.
Brick. Unimportant. An almost complete in architectural charm. Ten floors, four windows on every floor. Patrolled regularly, five minute interval. Move fast, two minute safe zone. South windows are least defended, only one guard. Sophia's office must be on the north side, which means I'll have to be quick.
When they returned to the base, Gabriel had given basic information, enough to tip Ambriel into not attacking. Not yet.
Which gave him time.
The Trickster in him was screaming to just 'swag on in', walk through the door and distract everyone with a single trick, get to Sophie and get out before anyone noticed.
But the Archangel in him disagreed.
Don't walk straight in. Try to avoid casualties and being seen. They can't know the danger until they're off their balance.
He went with the Archangel, turned his wings at least semi-corporeal, enough so to fly, and took off, landing on the fifth floor window ledge.
The balance required for that was something Gabriel was unused to, arms windmilling as his wings fluttered, struggling to keep purchase. Eventually, he steadied himself, sliding the point of his blade under the corner of the window, slipping it and making it lock in place, before worming his own thin, lithe body through the gap. He pulled the window closed before anyone even noticed it open.
The office he had landed in was dark and silent, which was also why he chose it. He trotted up to the door, unlocking it with a hairpin and a trick he learned from Shay, pinning one side of his hair back afterward. Who said only chicks can use these things?
Slipping silently through the halls, Gabriel started for the target that his grace had identified hours ago, avoiding all other angels with a skill that Archangels didn't have much of. The hiding, sneaking... That was all Loki. Archangel energy just heightened that skill.
"Yes ma'am. Thank you." An angel's voice floated down the hall, followed by quick-moving footsteps. A woman, rather short and of Asian heritage, walked past, vanishing around a corner.
Gabriel poked his head out before stepping back into the hallway, heading for a dark wood door, frosted windows hiding the person inside.
So Gabriel knocked.
"Yes?" Came the response.
The frequency beneath the word, undetectable to humans, gave away her identity.
Gabriel flipped his hood over his head, pulling the corners of his jacket up higher before stepping inside, closing and locking the door behind him.
"Excuse me, Dabriel, this his highly unusual behaviour-"
"Guess again." Gabriel dropped his voice an octave, the growl rumbling in his throat.
Sophia went silent, stood at the head of her table with an expression half of shock and half of fear. "How did you get-"
"Trade secret." Gabriel interrupted. Her eyes narrowed.
"...you've come to kill me." She said. It wasn't a question, or a request. It was simply a statement of fact.
He, unlike normal, didn't reply, and didn't bother drawing his sword yet, watching his double creep up behind her silently.
"...you will find, sister, I am not as helpless as you may believe." Sophia didn't even look back, at the hologram sneaking toward her. "You will find, assassin, that I am perfectly capable of defending myself!" Just as it raised it's blade though, she finally spotted it.
"Hah!" She exclaimed, dancing back. "Trick me, would you?"
She stepped forward, drawing her own blade to slash through the angel behind her, only for the blade to simply dissipate the copy. She seemed stunned to see it not only disappear, but that it was the same person.
Gabriel drove the real knife through her spine. Pulling her against his body and leaning his head over her shoulder, he spoke again. "...yes. Yes I did." He whispered, right before tearing the knife out of her back, dropping her as the light show started.
Rather than turn away, Gabriel found himself watching with morbid curiosity, huge wings turning to ash and charring themselves onto her floor with a scream. And for a moment, he felt nothing but satisfaction. And then came the horror. That hadn't, by angelic terms, been a quick death.
He stepped back in shock at himself.
Then Gabriel remembered the other angels in the base.
So he wrapped himself in his own wings, his unburned, safe, warm wings, and flew away.
-{[|]}-
Gabriel didn't land right.
Less land, more crash.
He appeared in the hallway, ramming into the wall across from his room with way too much force. After gripping tight to the bricks and registering where he was, he slid down the wall with a soft groan, turning his shoulder to touch the wall.
"What the..." Another voice announced, forcing Gabriel to lunge to his feet despite the pain shooting through his wings.
Whirling around and ducking inside his room, slamming the door shut and waiting, listening, for an angel to come out and find him.
None came.
Gabriel slid to the floor, leaned against the door, breathing hot and sticky. His vessel's heart thumped in his chest, too loud and overly hard, beating wildly as he attempted to keep the non-required, but still nice, function at bay.
When he finally got it calmed, everything that he had done came crashing down like a tsunami, washing over his whole self as though he had been trapped under it.
Slowly, he pulled his knees into his stomach, resting his head on them as crash after crash of hate and pain, regret and guilt, confidence and failure landed on him, eating away at his resolve.
He didn't know if he could take it.
So for then, he didn't. Gabriel simply closed his eyes, and hoped.
He would've prayed, but he didn't know if anyone was listening.
So instead, he simply hoped. He hoped that somehow, someone, somewhere, would bring him the strength to continue on this path.
Because... after all... Gabriel thought as he soundlessly sobbed into his jeans. The road to Hell... Is paved with good intentions.