Welcome back to Hell!
This chapter was supposed to be short and sweet, a little bitter but nice.
Hahahah fuck no.
The AKA for this chapter is 'When the Hunted...'
Enjoy that. Also, the playlist. Make sure you either copy/paste the base or email me about it. It's a sad playlist.
GABRIEL'S LAMENT playlist?list=PLRND65E8OybM1gdtYn1lXcTEB9tWXqHnn
{January, 1910}
Gabriel woke up, still in the cave under the Cliff. This time though, he felt much better.
He stood up, stretching out the relaxed, sleepy feeling that still clung to him, wings shivering down to their tips, basked in warm light and Heaven's energy, replenished to their full, glittering beauty.
Sitting back down, he grabbed one of them by the top wrist, pulling it over his lap to lay out flat, fingers carding through the feathers with careful reassurance.
He lay each of them flat, combing through the pinions, and the primaries and secondaries, the coverlets, freeing the dirt and dust from each individual feather. It felt good to just clean them, to forget his responsibilities and his duties, to simply relax under the sensation of clean feathers.
Gabriel brushed his feathers straight before pulling up his other wing, laying that one down and starting to pick it clean. He could remember a time when Lucifer or Michael had cleaned his and Raphael's feathers, preening them flat and oiling them, so they remained shimmery and strong.
Now, he did it himself, the coiled power within his wings for him and him only.
After stretching out again, cleaning the second and third pairs of wings, and laying back down, he found himself almost ready to sleep again. He had time. Not too much, but enough time.
So he went back to sleep.
After his second nap, Gabriel felt fully refreshed and ready to resume his hiding, his self-imposed exile on Earth, back to ignoring angels and their promises of the end, the final war. Then, paradise.
Gabriel didn't believe a half-second of it.
Because for there to be paradise, one of his brothers had to kill the other.
And Gabriel wasn't sure which one he wanted to win. Wasn't sure which one he could lose permanently.
He snorted.
Who am I kidding? He asked himself as he wiggled out of the cave. I already lost 'em. Lost 'em the day I left.
Avoiding notice was easy, at least until he got away from the forest. His wingbeats became soft and long as he glid overhead, not the inelegant, sharp, harsh wingbeats of his siblings. About midway back, he decided to land for a bit, in the middle of the training fields. Nobody was there, that time of day, and Gabriel felt safe enough to walk around, to observe and reminisce.
"Riel?" A small voice questioned, prompting Gabriel to spin around. Eth, her thin rust-orange wings shimmering in the light. "What are you doing out here?"
"I could ask you the same question." Gabriel smiled, squatting down. "I'm just taking a break for a minute. What are you doing?"
"...Seraphiel and Zikiel told me that we could start learning how to fly!" She cheered, jumping up with a light fluttering of wings.
"Awesome! I'm sure you'll be a great flier." Gabriel grinned, but that message, that other angels were on their way, was a warning sign if he ever got one. "But I've gotta go, ok?"
"Why do you hav'ta go, Riel?" Eth asked, tilting her head.
"Because... I've got a mission." He knelt, shifting into a more comfortable position. "A real important mission on earth."
"Really?" Eth's eyes widened, staring at him in amazement. "You get to go to earth?"
"Uh huh." Gabriel nodded firmly. "Which means I have to go, y'know? I have to go do my job."
"...Can I watch you fly down?" She asked, jumping on the balls of her feet.
"I uh..." He began, looking around for a second. "I guess. Follow me, ok?" He smiled, standing and starting for the gates of Heaven.
After a small walk, the pair stood before the gates, an enormous pair of pearl-carved, elegantly decorated doors, that Gabriel pushed open easily. "Alright, kiddo. You be good for Zikiel, got it?"
She looked out the open gates, staring at earth in awe and wonder, eyes circling over the water and clouds, the brilliant emerald forests and sapphire lakes, the smokey-yellow band of the Sahara desert.
Her eyes were filled amazement, reflecting the reality of earth, the cities, like stars, glimmering on the shores of the continents.
"...Wow." She breathed.
"I know right? It's even better up close." He chuckled. "Just you wait. You go down there, and you get to make a special connection with a human. And then..." He sighed. "The world changes for you."
"So, you've got a special human?" Eth questioned, stepping back.
Gabriel made a noise of affirmation. "Of course. He's my friend." He smiled. "You gonna head back to the field once I start flying?"
"Uh huh!"
"Alright then." Gabriel stepped right up to the edge, beating his wings to take off, hovering over the earth as he reached over to close the gates. "Bye Eth. Next time I see you, you'll probably be on earth!"
"Bye Riel!" She waved to him with a wing, right before Gabriel flipped over his back, unveiling all of his wings just for a second, diving away, a star in the evening sky, for earth.
Gabriel woke up, in his human body, in the back of his car.
Flinching with a deep inhale, he pulled upright, mentally checking himself over for injuries or problems. Only three days had passed on earth, and as a result he was fairly certain that his body would be fine. So far, his empty vessel had sustained no damage, few nutritional issues, and a minor case of dehydration.
Nothing he couldn't fix in two days of travel.
Gabriel started the car, checking it's condition just as fast as his own, before pulling out of the forested driveway and turning down the main road, chugging away toward the first place on his little list.
It took two days to travel a few hundred miles, digging up graves and pulling apart bones, burning demons as he went.
The last one was a man who sold his soul somewhere in the 1600s, for God only knows what, and had become a high ranking demon in the mid to late 1800s.
Gabriel spent a better portion of the night digging up the grave alone, without using his grace. For an angel, he always used surprisingly little of his grace for some harder physical labor, but Gabriel had always preferred corporeal things. Like, when he dragged the rotted, dry bones from the grave, pouring salt and a liberal amount of gasoline over the body, dropping a match in it without need of holy fire.
"Well..." Gabriel sighed heavily. "Goodbye, Killian the demon." He told the fire, knowing that somewhere, some demon's vessel had just gone up in flames with him.
Gabriel packed up his equipment, and headed for Somerset, a town steadily growing larger by trade and business from Canada.
After picking up more food, an extra shirt, and more gas, Gabriel started off, back for the Bunker. Down the road, he wound up on a flat-packed path through the woods, humming faintly to himself as he kept eyes on the road.
Hold on... Gabriel questioned, pausing for a moment. Did I remember that knife?
Shifting over to look in his bag, Gabriel shuffled through the contents, guns and knives clattering against each other as he searched to confirm a specific one.
When he turned back, he was shocked to see a person suddenly kicked onto the road.
With a yelp, Gabriel swerved, only to bump the guy anyway, almost running him over.
Then another figure, taller and thinner, hood covering their face, walked right over, leaned down, grabbed the guy Gabriel hit and yanked him out from under the car.
"Hey, what the-" He began, shocked, as the black figure dragged the other one back into the forest.
"This doesn't concern you." They snarled, voice an ambiguous growl, as they pulled him away.
Gabriel immediately drove to the side of the road before leaping from the car and following the disappearing figure.
Creeping through the underbrush, Gabriel followed them, the trail left by the prisoner's kicking, squirming body an easy path to track. He worked quickly and efficiently, taking out his knife midway through the path.
The broken branches and cracked underbrush lead to a clearing, a fire in the centre crackling strongly, where the figure threw the man to the ground, quickly nailing him in the face with the toe of their boot, dazing him and kneeling on his back, tying his wrists together.
"Alright." They snapped as they grabbed his shoulder, twisting it forward and down, a terrifying crack echoing through the clearing. The person screamed, and the figure shook him briefly, before throwing him against a tree with little effort. "That should serve as a bit of a warning. Nobody's leaving." She, Gabriel realized, hissed.
Then he realized something else.
Every person in that clearing was possessed. The girl was, potentially, but he couldn't sense it on her, despite the fact that she had tossed the others around like they were nothing. Evidently, the demon possessing her had a vendetta against the rest.
"L-look, bi-bitch," One of the demons stuttered, staring up at her with one eye. "I d-don't know wh-what problem you've got w-with us, b-b-but," He coughed, evidently, his vessel's ribs shattered. "Y-ya' haven't ki-killed anyone y-yet."
"And I don't plan to." She purred, stalking right up to him. She grabbed the front of his shirt, picked him off the ground like he was a child, and yanked him close to her face, looming overtop. "You sure as shit don't recognize me... But you might know a different name."
And Gabriel watched, in half horror, as the whites of her eyes became black, only a steady, semi-glowing ring of blue as her mark of humanity.
The demon flinched under the gaze.
"...Damian." He stammered, eyes going wide.
"Not entirely." Now, her voice sounded deeper, a little darker, like something else was talking alongside her now. "Damian, he's here. I'm just using his powers. He's just watching the show."
"...So he's not strong enough to come out and do the job himself? He lets his pet take care of i-"
She sliced her knife across his throat with a small flourish, and suddenly, he was choking on his own blood, unable to speak.
"No, it's just that he knows that I'll get it done quicker." She smirked. "So, another of you want to talk?" She called out.
One of the demons tilted her head back, brown hair cascading down her spine, as she arched up to 'smoke out'.
When the girl darted across the clearing, grabbed the smoking demon and shoved it back in it's vessel. "Oh no, sweetheart. You aren't going anywhere." She purred, and extended her hand to the fire. She held her hand out for a poker, at least a foot long with a fashioned branding head, burned red in the dark night. It launched from the fire, the cold end of it slamming into her hand without much thought.
Then the possessed woman bit the girl, who flinched back with a small yelp, staring in half awe, half disgust at the woman.
Then her eyes flickered completely black, dull growl rising in her throat. "You really, really, shouldn't've tried that."
The demon's screams lit up the night as the other demon, Damian, Gabriel guessed, branded a Devil's trap into the woman's chest.
Then Damian jerked back, shaking the girl's head, the black vanishing. "Good grief Damian, control freak much?" She griped goodnaturedly to herself. "C'mon, let me work here." She rolled her eyes, and Gabriel started questioning why he knew her voice. "I know, but honestly, that's no excuse to just hurry up and brand her. I wanted to threaten her a bit." She sighed, leaving the sobbing demon and placing the brand back in the fire.
With a huff, she pulled up straight and yanked her hood off, rubbing sweat off her forehead.
Gabriel's jaw dropped.
"...Raven?"
The girl's head snapped to stare at him, hood flipping up without a second thought as her eyes clouded black, only rings of blue remaining.
Gabriel whirled around, starting to run, considering flying. He had never seen a human able to access the demon inside them's powers, nevermind have the competency with said powers. She would definitely see him fly, and if word got back to the Men of Letters...
He kept running.
While Gabriel crashed ungainly through the forest, seeking the road, Raven, Damian, whatever she was, leapt through with elegance and speed, catching up and landing on his back, forcing him to the dirt.
Gabriel spat out dead leaves and snow, shaking his head as he realized that his arms were being tied. The instant he tried to struggle, though, the familiar grate of holy oil stressed his boundaries, and he lay still.
"...So uh... hey." He chuckled, glancing over his shoulder at the girl, eyes still creepily glowing, nothing but iris. "Didn't expect to see you out here."
Silence for a moment.
Then she flipped off her hood, leaning closer to his face with confusion evident. "...Gabriel?" She gasped, sitting up. "What in God's name are you doing here?"
"Could ask you the same thing." He grunted, wiggling slightly. "Ok, we know each other. Can you let me up?"
A few seconds of untying let him stand, but when he checked again, the girl's eyes were half and half, one normal, one completely black. "...I asked first." She stated, pulling him back toward the clearing.
"Ok, uh, if you need to know, I was on my way back from a demon burning." Gabriel shrugged, curious and concerned about the fact that there was a demon inside Raven.
"Good." She purred, pushing back into the center, approaching the fire. "Glad we're out here in the middle of nowhere. We can actually talk about some in between things that most people don't understand." She turned the poker and it's brand over, tapping charred blood and skin from it's surface.
"...Such as?"
"Don't be nïeve." She snapped, making him take a step back. "You're an angel, I'm possessed by a demon." She stood up, spinning around. "Let's not beat around bushes, pretend, or lie, got me?" Tapping an angel blade to his chest, she swung along beside him, trotting over to check the bindings on one.
"...So you know you're possessed. And you know I'm an angel." Gabriel sat, cross-legged, by the fire, warming his hands. It was a rather cold night.
"Of course." She responded. "I see what he sees, he sees what I see. And in this case, that means your wings." She pointed out an indeterminate space behind him.
"...And you're alright with the demon inside you?"
"His name is Damian," She informed sharply. "and he's been my best friend and sole supporter for a long time now. Other people only call me when they need me." She scrutinized the slice in the one's neck, preventing him from speaking, before driving the blade through his skull. The electrical crackling of dying demon filled the air briefly.
Gabriel watched her carefully, noting the way that Damian, the demonic shadow, seemed to hide within her soul when he wasn't needed, creeping away to stay safe while she simply acted human. "...You two work together?"
"Have for a while now. What about you, your vessel got a name?"
"Not one that I could translate easily." Gabriel chuckled.
They remained in uneasy silence, the groaning of one demon exchanged for the crying of another. Apparently, Raven and Damian had a bit of a reputation.
"So, what's up with this?" Gabriel finally questioned, gesturing to the circle of demons.
"Information." She responded simply. "I have a pair of lists, have to fill them out. These guys have information on a certain Letcher Finch."
"And has he been naughty or nice?" Gabriel smiled at the diffusion of tension.
"Mr. Finch has been distinctly naughty." She laughed slightly. "Pedophile demon. Runs a trafficking ring. And I plan on dismantling it, starting with some low level informants."
"Sounds like fun. Except that the chick you branded isn't a low level." He pointed over to the offending demon, who he noticed - during her attempted escape - was a crossroads demon.
"No." She admitted. "No, Sherry is an old friend of Damian's. Caught her following us a few days ago."
"So, she's here because..."
"Damian wants her dead, so I want her dead. Which means I'll grill her for information, and then kill her." Raven shrugged, circling the clearing again. "Excuse me for a moment."
She knelt in front of one of the demons, talking in a low, dangerous whisper to the demon. He replied, equally as hushed, and she made his death quick and clean. He suffered nothing when she cleaved his head from his shoulder with the angel blade.
"Alright, sorry..." She wiped off the blade, walking back over to the fire. "I actually do have a job to do." She sighed, staring into the fire for a few minutes before jolting upright. "...Damian wants to speak with you."
Gabriel's surprise turned to open shock. He has to ask permission? "Uh, ok?"
She closed her eyes, head lowering for a moment before lifting back up, eyes pure black. "...hello, angel." Her voice had become dark, deep and slightly gravelly.
"...demon."
"Play nice, boys." Raven moderated, her eyes briefly flicking to their normal colour before being swallowed by black again.
"You wanted to talk?" Gabriel questioned, staring suspiciously at the demon.
"Mostly, wanted to see you for myself. I don't trust people around her. Because they've hurt her before. So, angel... you harm her, I'll cut you in half."
Gabriel knew that, while he was an Archangel, and this demon was just some punk common demon, he was technically bonded with his vessel. A rare occurrence, when a human and their supernatural inhabitants bonded together, able to switch, attack together, hide within the other, and numerous other abilities. Even with Archangelic powers, fighting off a soul-bonded demon would be unpleasant.
"...sounds fair." Gabriel shrugged. The demon nodded, uncaring as to his response beyond that, and then the black faded away, leaving just Raven.
"Damian needs to calm down apparently." She chuckled as she stood up, taking the brand with her toward another demon.
Gabriel watched with morbid curiosity as she sizzled another mark into the demon's skin, talking in calm, hushed tones. He simply listened to their conversation, to sate his curiosity, and went back to watching the fire.
{December, 2013}
The pounding headache was persistent as it was aggressive.
Gabriel hadn't slept in sixteen and a half days.
It was unlike him.
He couldn't seem to keep down his food either. Nothing he wanted to eat tasted right, or felt right, and he kept throwing it back up. Water, for now, was still alright, but he had no idea what was wrong.
Standing up and stretching his aching back, Gabriel rubbed his shoulder where an angel's blade had slashed him on their last attack. The wound had healed nearly instantly, but that didn't stop him from massaging it. What had really made him start questioning himself was the lack of pain he felt.
Normally, Gabriel was very close to his vessel's skin, unlike most angels, which allowed him to feel more sensations, more like humans.
It didn't help that his emotions were muted, dulled, as though he was drugged or bleeding out. He felt like crying, but no tears came out. He wanted to scream, but he couldn't dredge up the energy to breathe fully.
Most of all, he just wanted to sleep.
By this point, it was unsurprising that he felt twitchy, on edge, and anxious. To a person, he just looked overtired and worn, like all his sharp lines had been smudged, frayed and torn.
To an angel, he might've looked like he was falling.
His true form was suffering too, all messed up and muddied, barely able to hold onto the incoherent form of Tabris to keep his identity safe.
Living on earth for so long had given Gabriel many human-like qualities that he gave no second thoughts to having, or doing. Like eating, which he found enjoyable, sleeping, which was great, and drinking. Which he needed to do more of if this went on.
Now, the strange ripping, a sudden separation from his vessel like never before, felt like shin splints on a human body. He was tearing, unintentionally, from his own body.
At least he could use painkillers, which seemed to dull the effects on his vessel, so long as he could keep the pills in his stomach, which seemed to reject everything. He was a mess and he knew it.
After slamming another ten Advil, which had maybe a chance to stop the headache, but bring to light the fact that his whole body ached, lack of oxygen taking it's toll as he tried to keep breathing. It sounded forced, his long inhales, and sharp exhales. If he didn't breathe, though, he found that he kept passing out.
So, I can't sleep, but I can still pass out. He had thought after he keeled over in the middle of their bus drive, standing up for a half second to stretch his legs out, only to wake up with Isda calling Tabris' name, the other angels staring at him with confusion.
"Sorry..." He had said. "I uh... Seem to have lost more of my grace than I thought, in the fall."
That had been just a few days ago.
Shoving off the wall and rolling forward to rest on the balls of his feet, Gabriel stood up, waiting for the room to stop doing an odd slide thing before starting for the door.
Pushing into the hallway, Gabriel started for the main gathering area. He had a new target anyway.
Dokiel seemed like a nice enough angel, but he was closer to Malachi than the others. Which meant, to start dismantling the whole infrastructure, he had to die.
How to get him alone, though... Gabriel wondered, resting his shoulder against the wall for a brief second, squeezing blurry eyes shut. Everything was too bright and too fuzzy all at once. Right. Blink. He reminded himself.
All the past night, he had spent trying to use his grace to create a letter to place on Dokiel's desk, one that would make him appear like a double agent. He had finally gotten the right one, just now, the problem was planting it.
He turned so that he was leaning fully on the wall, both shoulders, head lowered and focused. There has to be a way into the office. At least, unseen.
"Tabris." One of the angels greeted. Gabriel snapped his head up.
"Sorry, sir." He responded, avoiding the angel's, correction, Theo's gaze. "Just thinking." Theo was one of the attack angel leaders, ferocious and powerful. Gabriel wanted him dead just as much.
"Ambriel wishes you to meet with me and Sheriel. Please, follow." Theo ordered, though he pretended like it wasn't, and Gabriel followed.
In my lap, yet. How pleasantly convenient. This'll be fun. He thought, the energy of his blade tingling at his fingertips.
Gabriel stepped back slightly, away from Theo's footsteps and out of striking range, starting to switch to 'hunting' mode rather than 'just existing' mode. The latter was almost entirely offline as of late, but he made do.
Following Theo into his office, Gabriel took the offered seat across from his desk, noting the third of their party, Sheriel, in the corner. Sheriel had been an angel who watched over the health of other's grace. He'd have to play careful with her.
"Tabris, this is Sheriel. I'm not certain you've... met?"
"I don't think we have." Gabriel stood up, shaking Sheriel's hand. "It's a pleasure."
"To you too, Tabris." Sheriel nodded. Apparently, my replica is better than I thought. Gabriel smirked internally. She can't see through it.
They chatted, with Sheriel holding her hand on his shoulder, checking the state of his grace repeatedly. He made sure the fake was at full force but still damaged, stating that yes, my grace has been feeling weird lately and no, I haven't made any deals or been anywhere but here, one of which was a blatant lie, but he could care less.
"Tabris, may I take a sliver of your grace for closer examination?" Sheriel requested after a bit, and Gabriel consented, sending her a thin slip of false coloured grace for examination. All that would turn up was a bit of weakness.
Gabriel knew that, because Lucifer had taught him to fake grace, avoiding Raphael's healing.
After she moved to the next room, Gabriel watched as Theo stood up and walked to the barred window, staring out. "Tabris, what is to become of our siblings?" He sighed, brown hair bouncing slightly as he shook his head. His perfectly done navy suit suddenly seemed a little too tight for Gabriel's liking. He couldn't wait to cut it off.
Whoa, where did that come from? Gabriel questioned himself while unfolding the letter, tapping a finger against the page to change Ambriel's name to 'Sheriel', and Dokiel to 'Theo', the fine type rearranging and shifting at his command. "Not sure." He stated. "The world does seem to be in chaos."
Laying the page on the table, Gabriel flicked his wrist, locking all the doors, turning off the one camera pointed at the entrance, and summoning his blade.
Standing up slowly, not making a single noise, Gabriel crept over to the other angel, staying a few feet behind.
Theo huffed again. "Our world is falling apart, Tabris. It will take every angel we need, on our side."
Gabriel took that as his cue. Letting out a fake shout, then a few choice curses, he moved forward effortlessly.
Theo whirled, shock and confusion evident, at least until Gabriel's blade sank into his ribs, grace screaming out as he burned alive in his vessel. Thinking fast, Gabriel pulled the body against himself, snatched Theo's blade from limp fingers and fell over backward. The thump was hard, sharp, and painful, made doubly so when he raised Theo's blade and drove it into his own shoulder with a shout.
Sheriel burst in a second later from the side door, while a few other angels crashed through the front door. "Tabris?" Isda called worriedly.
"O-over here!" Gabriel gasped, playing up the pain for all he was worth.
The angels rounded the table, staring at him, the body and the blade stuck in his shoulder in astonishment, before Sheriel moved in to assist him.
"Tabris, your grace is weak. I will remove the blade, and heal you, alright?" Sheriel reassured, and Gabriel nodded shakily. The blade was intensely painful, though not as much as it could've been. In all honesty, it was quite easy to handle, once he was confident he could.
Isda and another pair of angels pulled Theo's body off his chest, letting Gabriel scramble back before Sheriel tore out the blade and sealed her hand over the wound, repairing it instantly.
"Tabris, what happened?" One of the angels asked, in a blond vessel with hazel eyes. Gabriel recognized the angel as Seris.
"He just... Said something about all angels being on our side and then turned!" Gabriel explained skillfully.
Isda was examining his desk with the third angel, another woman. "...Seris, Sheriel..." She turned around, holding the unfolded note of paper that Gabriel had planted. "We need to go to Malachi immediately."
Gabriel's grace did a silent cheer as Sheriel helped him up. "You, Tabris, should rest. If Theo was truly planning on betraying us, then you did a great deed today."
Gabriel smiled, the planted letter working perfectly how he'd planned it. "Self defense, really..." He mumbled sheepishly, turning for the door to leave.
It wasn't until his vision grayed out and the room flipped dizzyingly that Gabriel realized he had forgotten to breathe the whole time.
It was his last thought before hitting the ground.
He woke up to the thought of, right, can't sleep but can pass out. Remember this time please. It wasn't pleasant, sitting up with a stabbing ache in his brain and a hard bump on his forehead, but at least one of those was fixable. He was back in his room, alone, because angels didn't exactly do the caring thing.
Tapping fingers to the spot just below his hairline, Gabriel leaned back with his eyes closed, reaching into the corner under an extra coat for the excessive amount of Ibuprofen he kept around.
When he realized the headache was gone.
Gabriel shot to his feet, snapping fully awake and no longer off balance. Instead, his grace thrummed directly under his skin, not quite connected to his vessel, but not so withdrawn either. More like...
Like my first connection. He concluded, staring at his hands as he clenched and unclenched his fists.
Another sensation hummed underneath his actual grace, small intrusive thoughts every so often making observations about certain things, like the molecules in the walls, or the angel down the hall. It was making him slightly twitchy, but it felt... Good.
He felt relaxed for the first time since... Gadreel.
The new-old power, the new-old sensations under his skin felt like his grace trying to reboot itself, a computer running a diagnostic. It identified the streak of silver where he was different from last time, Loki's energy thrumming like an icy arrow lodged within the spine of his grace.
Unfurling his wings, even though they were rather compressed in the small room, felt different as well. Everything resetting and spreading back out, realigning. Rolling his shoulders, Gabriel flared his wings slightly, the smallest pair barely able to spread out halfway in the room, feathers shuffling softly.
His wings held more of a sheen since last time he took a good look, less than a week ago. As though something was warping inside him to make him more powerful. Well, not more powerful. Just make his power more present.
He wasn't sure if he liked it or not.
Their next assignment, with Ambriel, was a guarding assignment. His job, along with the other angels of their crew, was to give guidance and protect a high ranking spy angel affectionately named 'Viva'.
She wasn't on Gabriel's hit list.
The plan was that at least one of them (read; Ambriel) was with Viva at all times, the others trailing behind and scattered in various areas while Viva told her gathered-slash-stolen information to Ambriel.
Gabriel was waiting on a roof some twenty feet away, their little sniper. He knew that diving onto the street like some kind of bird would definitely attract attention, but not nearly as much as the bladefight that would be happening on the street.
Taking a sip of his hot water and lemon, the only drink he could keep down and appear human drinking, Gabriel watched as Ambriel waited, tapping fingers in an impatient thrum on the table where he sat outside of Starbucks.
It was almost another hour before a woman with elegant curves and gorgeous lines, brilliant black hair tipped white and shimmery in the sunshine, sat down with Ambriel. After a few minute's quiet conversation and a pair of drinks to go, they started down the street.
Gabriel focused on the alleyway to his left, wrapping himself in his wings and effectively vanishing from the rooftop, reappearing in the alley and stepping onto the sidewalk.
Tracking Viva and Ambriel with focus most bear hunters lacked, Gabriel stayed exactly fifteen feet their diagonal, across the street but within quick retaliation range. Scouring the rest of the crowd, human souls glittering like diamonds in the sea of people, Gabriel started trying to find any other angels, ones that he didn't know.
Viva and Ambriel rotated, disappearing into an alleyway. Gabriel signalled to the drivers, skipping across the road and melting seamlessly into the crowd, slinking into the alleyway before anyone noticed him appear or disappear.
Ducking behind a dumpster, Gabriel listened carefully to Ambriel and Viva's conversation.
"...There's no activity in the east, but they're spending a lot of time out north. Be careful when heading south, too. They have a base down there." Viva was talking, clear and steady, but something was off.
Namely the figure standing high above the alley, holding a blade.
He could spot three such figures, and sensed another six. This wasn't a meetup. This was a setup.
Gabriel started to stand up and move, about to launch for Ambriel, telling him to run, because this was an ambush, when his muscles locked up.
It was then that he realized what he should do. Not for the good of his new 'team', but for the good of his mission.
He let them drop down.
When the fighting began and the rest of his compatriots shot for the battle, Gabriel sprinted, his heels picked up so he got more of a driving motion as he ran, for the skirmish.
The first angel he cut through was effortless. Not one of Malachi's, but Bartholomew's. He was lunging for the next one before their body even hit the ground.
The fight raged on, half silent and chaotic. There was no yells of rage or challenge, just metal on metal and blood and sweat, grace moving and flowing with true forms.
And out of the corner of his input, he saw Ambriel forced back, fighting off another angel who slashed brutally at his face and head. The angel caught Gabriel's eyes, faltering a step, as though worried that the other would shoot over and tackle him down.
Gabriel didn't move, face gone deceptively blank.
He considered the moment. His consequences of murdering Ambriel, versus allowing the unplanned second to take the fault, to force his allies to retreat while doing half his job. He knew, knew that somewhere inside him, he should object to the murder of another angel, but... The coldness in his chest seemed to deny him that. So he waited.
The angel's eyes widened, as though shocked, right before turning back and stabbing Ambriel through the ribs, the leader choking briefly before flaring up, coating the alleyway in light.
They all stood in silence for a few minutes, mostly in shock. Gabriel though, in mild, silent satisfaction.
"Retreat!" Aratron shouted, scrambling backward as the other angels started fleeing.
Gabriel, though, only sank back, vanishing into the cover of shadows.
The angel who had killed Ambriel watched him with curiosity and fear, waiting until the rest of the enemy angels had clearly left before stepping into the alleyway where Gabriel had hid.
"...Hello?" He called, searching with suspicious eyes for the figure concealed in the corner.
"Thanks for doing my job for me." Gabriel stepped into view. "Been playing doubles for a while. You just made my day about six times easier."
"...Pardon?" The angel questioned, backing away slightly. Gabriel knew that his power was a little more evident than before. Still concealed, but with more there. To most of the angels on earth, he just looked like he had retained more of his grace.
Gabriel rolled his eyes, wondering how he could put that into words that an angel understood. In the end, he decided not to bother. "What's your name?"
"...Kadmiel, ma'am." He nodded.
"Kadmiel, huh? I'm Tabris." Gabriel informed. Normally, any other time, he might've felt the need to shake the other's hand. He felt none of that now.
"...Why did you let me kill Ambriel, Tabris?"
"Because I needed him dead. Just as much as you need him dead." Gabriel shrugged. The apathy sinking through his voice tasted like bittersweet victory over his emotions.
"Why should we trust you?" A second angel - soft blush-coloured wings charred, but nearly usable, salvageable, at least - stepped out from behind Kadmiel. "You're one of Malachi's."
"That insane insurgent?" Gabriel scoffed. "Please. I've been double teaming that rat for weeks." I double teamed you a bit too, but now I've got a way in your door. He thought alongside his statement. "Been looking for a way to get in contact with a few of Bartholomew's angels for a while now. Hoping to join the proper side."
"I'd say that allowing Ambriel's death is proof enough. As far as I saw, you didn't hurt any of ours." Viva walked into the scene, gazing between the gathered few.
"Nope." Gabriel shook his head, blatant lie not even pausing him.
"...Come." She invited with a soft nod. "Meet with Bartholomew. We'll see what we can do for you."
Gabriel dipped his head, thanking her. Internally, his grace twisted with sadistic happiness. Everything's coming together...
He didn't actually wind up meeting Bartholomew, a major disappointment. He imagined that the fight would've been something for the ages.
Instead, he met with his assistant, Cambiel.
Cambiel watched him with respect and awe for what he had enabled to happen, though Gabriel greeted her admiration with slightly nonchalant politeness.
She welcomed him, informing him that he had done Heaven a great service by enabling the death of Ambriel. Gabriel accepted her praise wordlessly as he was guided to one of the busses out of the main building. After he arrived to the new concrete base he was stationed at, he was lead to a small room that was now his, for a time, at least.
He had been assigned to Alphun, and had almost immediately started planning for his murder. He'd have to frame another, but to do that, he'd need to steal a blade and have a reliable excuse. Lying on the floor of the small room where he was staying (more comfortable than Malachi's base) and staring at the roof, Gabriel was struck with a blinding realization.
I'm planning the murder of an angel I don't even know.
The thought was slightly sickening. In fact, his stomach gave a very real lurch at the idea.
Gabriel spent the next few minutes crunched over himself, dry heaving as ripples of pain rushed up his back. Muscles clenched and warped, too focused and too sharp and the migraine pounding in his head roared to life with vengeance.
This time, a few strings of bitter bile came from his throat.
The tears came to his eyes unbidden, unwanted, and generally hated. Gabriel was scared, scared at the knowledge that he was losing himself, and not slowly either. An instinct, age-old and barbaric, was coming to life. The instinct to protect and kill, to defend Heaven with everything he had.
Every emotion that he thought had vanished over the last few weeks rose up with fury, roaring in his head for the world to die, for the angels against Heaven to burn. The anguish of being alone, without his family, without even his friends, broke him inside. Gabriel had been so close to his family as a child, only to leave when that closeness started to tear him to pieces. As Loki, he had many... alliances, nobody who he could quite call 'friend', until later in his life with Kali and the rest. They, though, only knew him as Loki. Not as Gabriel, the Archangel. Who he really was.
Then, for a while with the Men of Letters, and Gabriel remembered what having a real family, people who loved and cared about him, was like. It was a bitter, hated memory at first. He had almost forgotten it, and that sensation of being alone was easier to take if he didn't remember what having a family felt like.
Soon enough, Gabriel lost that family too, but to necessity. He did what he needed to.
He had started to get his family back with Sam, Dean, even Cas when he saw him. His new family was starting to come together.
And then it was shredded.
So Gabriel curled into a ball in the corner and cried, grace folding in over itself and twisting into a tiny knot in his chest, drawing his reality into his body, away from the world outside.
And he sobbed.
When he came back to himself, his limbs felt cold and stiff, heavy with aches that openly rebelled to movement, head bleary and sleepy, as though stuffed full of cotton.
Working through his weighted limbs, flexing and stretching to try and put out the kinks in his vessel. Yawning, Gabriel shook his head, sitting up fully and leaning on the wall. He felt more tired than he did before, drained like an old sink, cracked and broken on the inside with all the white varnish still clean.
He was sick of it. He was sick of hiding, of lying in wait. He was sick of being attacked, or waiting for a command like a well-trained dog. The Archangel side of him openly rebelled to it, to being told what to do and pushed around. You're not a creature to be ordered... It hissed insidiously in his ears. You're a creature who makes the orders. And it's time they all knew that.
Gabriel hated the feelings that started to sink through the black ichor at the bottom of his grace, floating, just covered, at the surface. He couldn't quite feel it, but barely.
His eyes shut, eyebrows crunching down. You're right, Michael. If that's you, talking? He chuckled mirthlessly. You're right.
It's time I stopped ignoring what I actually am.
There was something dripping from a pipe.
It plopped onto the cold concrete underneath in a steady beat, like an endlessly echoing drum.
An outsider might follow the dripping, hoping to stop the incessant noise with the tightening of a wrench, only to find something darker than water on the ground. Warmer, too, but cooling and drying steadily.
If they turned a light onto the roof, they'd find a body laying on top of the pipes.
If they continued down the hallway, they'd find misshapen wing marks, all over the walls and floor. Bloody trails and broken bodies, blade-marks through chests and heads, sometimes slashed through necks. Lights were burst and ruined, the shattered bulbs spilling small sparks to the glass-covered ground, as though some unnatural power surge had ripped them to pieces.
Bodies of some ten people lay, dragged across the floor or simply left where someone had slaughtered them. Blood splatters across the walls betrayed swift retribution of brutal proportions.
And down the hall, seated on the stair steps of the exit, Gabriel remained as the sun crested over the hilltop and bathed the empty building in the glory of the morning light.
It filtered into the dark crevices, frightening the shadows from their sleep, revealing to the new guardian of creation the creatures waiting there.
Standing, he let the wind flow over his body, ruffling his hair and filling him with a sense of purpose that before, he had lacked.
Gabriel turned his head toward the open sky, wings slowly spreading in a show of power.
As he prepared to take off, his heart rate dropped off to nothing, vessel turned silent and dead.
He flew anyway.