Title: Oadriax (9/13)
Fandom/Genre: Supernatural, Sci Fi, Drama, AU
Pairing(s): Dean/Castiel, Sam/Gabriel like woah
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Graphic violence and warfare, adult themes including sex, canon character deaths, demon xenophobia, swearing, gore (in a war situation), PTSD and an attempted non-con situation.
He felt old.
His skin felt stretched, too tight across the juts of his shoulders, the planes of his face. If he scraped his nails along the paper thin skin, no blood would well, just flumes of dust, the burnt ashes of a spent life.
How long had it been?
Years, decades, since he had stood upon the hot dirt of his home, stood beneath the glorious red sky that had once witnessed his birth. He missed Hel's warmth, her fierce and unyielding plains of desert, and the sharp fanged creatures that roamed her wastes. She was his temptress, his lover and parent, and she called to him through time and space, beckoning him home.
But he could never go home.
Hel was a different creature now, tamed and subdued. She was but a shadow of her former glory, chained and beaten into submission by a race that deserved no such honor. It sickened him, made his hearts feel heavy with shame and dread. To think that he had lived to see the day. The day when Hel was sullied beyond recognition. How his ancestors would have raged if they had lived to see it. They would not have allowed Hel to fall. They would have fought to the last demon, not surrendered and pleaded peace.
Peace. Demons knew no such word.
Azazel glared viciously at the far wall of his office, fingers flexing convulsively against his desk. Paperwork spilled across it in haphazard piles, sheets he had long ignored. That little red eyed shit upstairs let him get away with most things, late paperwork, a fight here and there, but this time all bets were off. This time…this time, Crowley had gone too far.
The red eye was practically keeping Winchester under lock and key. Azazel was the damn security chief., Winchester was his, not Crowley's.
Alistair paced along the office wall, eyes downcast.
"It's not for a lack of trying, Sir," his voice shook, the black eye desperate to placate the wildly unpredictable yellow. "Winchester is under guard these days. He barely spends any time here and when he does, I can't catch him alone."
Azazel leant back in his chair, curling his lip in a sneer. "You mean playing with the science nerds. Am I the only one who actually remembers the whole point to this project?"
Alistair cringed away from him, ducking his head low and freezing. Azazel was used to it. There had been a time on Hel when every demon had submitted to him like that, not just greasy blacks without a brain cell between them. A time when yellow eyes had been respected and feared.
A time when the world still made sense.
Azazel glanced towards the far wall. An illuminated screen displayed the time and date, yet another useless addition of technology that the company installed everywhere. "The point to why we're even on this damn station, on this Sithis-forsaken planet, in the first place?" He slammed a fist onto the desk, and Alistair flinched. "That damn red eye squawks about results, but does everything in his power to stop me doing my damn job. Now I can't even get within two paces of Winchester without something getting in the way."
Alistair swallowed. "What should we do?"
"I tell you what we do," Azazel rose from his chair, and though Alistair cringed as the older demon approached, the little punk knew better than to move. Azazel grabbed the younger demon by the throat, a thrill of satisfaction settling in his chest as his fingers dug welts into the soft skin of Alistair's throat. He could feel the panicked patter of the demon's racing hearts, and he squeezed the pulses viciously. "We do what we're supposed to do. What we planned to do."
Alistair's black eyes flashed, his voice choked and breathy. "But…the company-"
"I don't give a damn about the company!" Azazel bellowed, shaking him. "You hear me? It can rot for all I care!"
Alistair tried to swallow, throat bobbing beneath Azazel's fingers. "It's just…last time we-"
"Alistair," he warned, fingers tightening. "Do you remember what I said the last time?"
Those beady black eyes were panicked now, wide and bulging. It shamed Azazel that humans even dared call black eyes demons. They were pathetic, cringing little insects that belonged under his boot. Disgusted, Azazel shoved Alistiar away, and the demon sucked in deep whistling breaths.
"Get out of my sight. I've got plans to prepare."
Alistair clutched his bruised throat as he watched Azazel move back towards his desk. The yellow eye sank back down in his seat nonchalantly, as if nothing had happened, sending an irritated look towards his subordinate.
"Alistair if you're still in my office in the next five seconds, I am going to bend you across this desk and show you the true meaning of pain," he said calmly.
Alistair straightened with a shudder, his voice raspy. "Yes, Sir. Just one…just one more…thing, Sir."
Azazel arched an eyebrow, and Alistair ducked his head, already beginning to back out of the office.
"I'm sorry, Sir. I know it's today. The…the anniversary. I'm sorry."
The black eye retreated towards the safety of the hallway, disappearing from view as Azazel glared after him. Though his fingers twitched convulsively, he studiously ignored the feeling. Avoided sliding open the drawer of his desk like he so wanted to. He didn't even have to glance at the crinkled file that had lain there for close to sixteen years. He had memorized it, the pictures and words accompanying it. Knew every line, every sickly praise that had been sent to thousands of families across Hel for their sacrifice. As if it was some noble gift they had chosen to give, not ripped from them by force.
It whispered to him, fierce and angry. It demanded a debt that had yet to be paid, bade blood that had yet to be spilled.
"Soon, baby," he promised it, and his fingers stilled, the emptiness in his chest lessening. "Soon. I promise."
Azazel pushed away from his desk. He had a message to send.
This was it.
This was it, the day Dean had been training, sweating, and at times, almost dying, for. He had faced cat monsters, ridden hell beasts, and assimilated himself into an alien culture. He had learnt how to fire a bow, to speak in another language (sort of), and even managed to defeat Castel in a fight.
Once.
Maybe.
The angel may have just faked his defeat to make Dean feel better.
Rain dribbled from the overcast heavens as Hershey made his way up the sheer rock face. Dean wrapped his arms tighter around Castiel's waist, pressing himself more firmly into the comfort of the angel's wings as they climbed higher. There was barely a path up the mountain side, the steep drop off to the right a sobering reminder of what might happen if Hershey were to slip. Castiel's wings shifted, rubbing against Dean's chest soothingly, and Dean subconsciously pressed closer, assured by his friend's calm.
And they were that now: friends. Soon-to-be brothers, Cas kept reminding him, though Dean thought that sounded kind of creepy. Considering the number of times he ended up dreaming of random make out sessions with said angel, Dean could do without adding incest to his long list of fuck ups.
Hershey snorted beneath them, talons slipping on the wet rock and sending loose pebbles clattering down the steep incline. Dean swallowed, squeezing Castiel a little bit tighter as the angel urged Hershey up the slippery slope with encouraging clicks of his tongue.
Ancient vines stretched along the rock face to their left, creaking as the somber procession of Levithmong passed by. Dean could see Uriel at the front of them all, sitting stonily and arrogant as he led the way up the winding path towards their destination. Uriel's Levithmong was as scary looking as Uriel was, heavily ridged and scaled as it dug its sharp claws into the rock to move towards higher ground. Behind Uriel were others, younger angels all about to go through the same test as Dean would. All of them rode with an older angel with their own Levithmong. That was what they were all here for, to forge a bond with their very own hell beast.
All they had to do was find the damn critters. Apparently, wild Levithmong preferred the clear and thin air only found at the top of freaking mountains. Go figure.
Dean counted at least six youngsters, though he didn't recognize any of them. All of them so much younger than he was, much more capable. He felt like an old fogey, too clueless and stumbling to be truly worthy of something the Ne'gassagen held in such high regard. There was a reason he was last, the caboose of a fail train currently chugging towards destiny.
Wingless, graceless; that was him. Nidali-vpaah, Uriel called him. Unworthy of the honor the Ne'gassagen had chosen to bestow on him.
Humph. Dean would show that miserable bastard just how vpaah he could be.
Hopefully without dying.
A young female angel was just ahead of Hershey, and Dean craned his face over Castiel's shoulder to watch her. She was a pretty little thing, with blonde curls and dusky auburn wings. She was nervous, he could tell from the tell-tale twitching of her agitated wings. Her hair swayed in the chill breeze, and she shivered, turning slightly to look towards Castiel.
"What of the teloch?" she asked worriedly, Dean understanding some of her quiet Enochian. "It is known to nest here Castiel, what if-"
Castiel shushed her gently. "Hester, stop scaring yourself. Do you think Uriel would lead us into danger?"
She relaxed a bit, though her teeth still worried her lower lip nervously. "No, of course not, but-"
The angel she was riding with jostled her with an irritated bark, and she turned back around, falling silent. Dean frowned.
"Teloch?" he whispered. Castiel tugged lightly on Hershey's reins, and the Levithmong swung up the slope, snapping vines in his wake.
"Do not worry Dean," the angel murmured. "You have other things to think about right now."
Dean snorted, glancing down towards the drop again. "Yeah, like dying."
Eventually the steep incline flattened out to a rocky path that they still had to carefully pick their way through. The vegetation grew denser; thick veins that trailed down from ancient towering trees brushed against their shoulders as they passed. The air was colder up here, thinner, and Dean breathed in deeply as they cleared the vegetation to emerge at a large clearing.
Uriel stopped up ahead, and the following Levithmong pawed at the rock beneath them nervously, snorting to one another as distant bellows echoed towards them.
"We are here," Castiel whispered, and his wings pressed against Dean's front, warm and comforting as he urged Hershey up towards Uriel. "It is time."
A valley stretched in front of them, scooped into the very mountain. Smaller trees and shrubs dotted the green grass, and nestled securely within its protective embrace were the creatures they were looking for. A large wild herd over a hundred head strong had decided to nest here. Several large males standing along the edges of the main herd barked an alarm as they spotted the angels, warm breath misty in the cool air. A flock of youngsters jolted at the sound, small legs pounding through the grass as they retreated towards the safety of their mothers.
Uriel snorted, dismounting with a heavy beat of his wide wings.
"The nidali vpaah will go first," he sneered, looking towards Dean. "Perhaps if he is lucky, he will not die horribly."
Dean shot Castiel a look as he slid off of Hershey, and the angel winced apologetically.
The younger angels all stared at Dean as he slowly made his way up towards Uriel. Hester whispered a quick word of encouragement despite the others' disapproving glares, and Dean shot her a grateful smile.
Reaching Uriel, Dean looked out over the herd, aghast. There were so many. How the hell was he supposed to magically find one to somehow make him a true Ne'gassagen?
Castiel moved to Dean's side, wings rustling. He handed the human a thick length of rope, nodding encouragingly as Dean took it.
"You will be fine, Dean. Do not fear."
Dean smiled back weakly, the threads of rope scratchy against his palms. "So, I just have to rope myself a steed huh?"
He looked dubiously towards where the wild males were still snorting in alarm, some of the smaller ones ushering the females and younger Levithmong away from the angels and further into the safety of the valley. The males were huge, scaled tanks of muscle that looked perfectly capable of squishing him with one step.
Uriel was right. Dean was going to die horribly.
A small rocky path stretched down the valley and into the taller grass, and Dean started down it cautiously, boots sending cascades of pebbles bouncing. Castiel followed him despite Uriel's grumbled protests, keeping a small distance as Levithmong trumpeted around them, the sound echoing through the trees.
"Remember," Castiel whispered. "Once it has chosen you, you must be quick to forge the bond."
Dean sighed unhappily, eyeing a few Levithmong that had settled in the shade of the trees nearby. They stood their ground until he got too close, then bounded away with nervous bleats.
"How will I even know, Cas? I mean, look at them all."
Castiel shook his head with a smile, his wing stretching forward to brush against Dean's shoulder reassuringly.
"You'll know, Dean. Trust in Geiad."
Castiel then pulled back to watch as Dean continued moving forward, rope in hand. The trees thinned, vegetation becoming more shrub-like as he moved towards a rocky slope where many Levithmong had been sunning themselves in the mid-day heat. One large male snapped at him as he approached, hissing as it rattled its neck plates angrily, but it withdrew when he flicked the rope at it.
Others followed suit, all glaring and hissing as they retreated towards safety.
Dean growled irritably, struggling to climb the rocky slope.
"What am I even looking for?" he muttered exasperatedly, already sweating and tired. His hand slipped on one rough rock and he hissed through his teeth as it drew a small cut. A thin bead of blood welled from his finger, and he put it to his mouth sullenly.
"Great. I'm bleeding already."
A little further up the pile of rock, a group of youngsters suddenly shifted. They had been lying down in the shade, escaping the hot suns of the day, and now all moved nervously away, a larger shape moving through them towards Dean.
A female had been lying with them, and unlike the rest of her herd, she stood her ground as Dean approached. Also unlike the other grey Levithmong that had surrounded her, she was a sleek black, her armored plates a shimmering blue contrast against her dark skin. Her tail flicked lazily back and forth as she arched her back, but her four dark eyes were trained on Dean, and the smudge of blood along his finger.
She was slimmer and more toned than the burlier males, probably built more for speed and agility. Her six legs moved restlessly as she stared back at Dean insolently, hissing.
"Alright," Dean stretched the rope between his hands, heart racing. "Let's dance sweetheart."
The Levithmong didn't bother with threatening postures. She came at him with full on fury, slamming into his side as her back legs kicked out at him. Pain blossomed along Dean's ribs, but he wrestled the rope around her thick neck, twisting the rope around his hands and locking them into place. She reared then, hissing angrily, and he used the opportunity to swing himself half up onto her back.
Snorting wildly, she pranced along the ground, back arched, before whipping her head up sharply. Her thick skull slammed into Dean's shoulder, knocking him off her. His back smashed onto rock, and he cried out in pain. Castiel's worried shout drowned out the pain buzzing in his skull, and Dean rolled to the left, just as the Levithmong 's talons cracked into the ground where his head had been.
The rope still swung from her neck, and as the Levithmong bore down again, Dean grabbed for it, injured finger stinging as he pulled on the rough threads with all his strength.
With a squawk, she crashed down to the ground onto her side, and despite his pain, Dean twisted the rope around his now bleeding knuckles, and tugged her head up. She struggled, but Dean hurriedly pinned her neck with his body, locking his legs around her heaving chest. Her lower body thrashed, legs kicking, but Dean held firm.
She snapped at him, beak catching the skin of his shoulder and drawing blood. Dean growled, and twisted the rope tighter, strength already fading. If she didn't give up soon, he didn't stand a chance.
"Stop!" he bellowed, willing something to happen. She fought harder, and he clamped down on her, gritting his teeth.
"Son of a bitch, chill!" he shouted, shoulders straining. "I'm not going to hurt you! RELAX!"
A sudden flare of, awareness, erupted in his mind. Something strange and alien brushed up against him, a ghostly touch of something he didn't understand. The Levithmong's eyes widened and she went completely limp, docile and compliant. Dean didn't let go, breathing hard as he kept her pinned in place.
She didn't move, large ribcage heaving. The weird feeling passed, and Dean shook himself, laughing breathlessly.
"Good girl."
He ran a hand down her slick neck, and she trembled beneath his touch, beak stretched wide as she panted. "I'm gonna let you go now, okay? No killing me."
Cautiously, Dean forced his muscles to relax, rolling away from the creature and getting to his knees. Slowly the Levithmong got to her feet, head hung low and eyes watching him. Dean offered his hand to her, and she cautiously smelled him.
"Good girl," he repeated, clicking his tongue at her like Castiel had showed him. Her rigid posture relaxed at that, and she crooned to him, moving in to rub her head against his chest and face.
Castiel was grinning as he approached, Uriel a furious presence at his back.
"Well done, Dean. She is beautiful," Castiel looked proud, wings puffed and held high. "What will you call her?"
The Levithmong was nibbling at his hair, and Dean laughed, shoving her away playfully. She moved back in to bump her forehead against his, and he stroked his bruised knuckles across the dark blue plates along her cheeks.
"Chevy," Dean smiled, and she purred against him. "She reminds me a bit of those old cars my dad liked."
Castiel nodded, moving to remove the rope from her neck. She looked curiously towards Dean, and he merely nodded at her. Satisfied, she snorted, standing quietly as Castiel fixed a simple halter with the rope, tying it around her head easily.
"First ride seals the bond," the angel explained. "I hope you don't mind if I accompany you."
In a daze, Dean allowed himself to be hoisted and settled on his new companion's back. Chevy flexed her shoulders expectantly, and that same weird sense of awareness filtered into his mind. He could…feel her, feel her excitement and curiosity. Could taste the warm air in her lungs, the hard ground beneath her feet. Castiel got on behind him, arms sliding beneath his elbows, and Dean stupidly realized that this was actually real. He was sitting on his very own Levithmong.
Holy shit.
"You control her, Dean," Castiel whispered in his ear, and Dean shivered. "Tell her to run."
The last thing Dean really saw was Uriel's furious gaze, before the surroundings around them turned into a green blur. Trees and shrubs whipped by them, Chevy barely noticing them as she climbed the wall of the valley easily, balancing for a moment on the flat edge at the very top of the valley.
Dean shouted as the Levithmong then just launched into space; legs spread as she hurtled down the slope. Castiel's laughter was loud in Dean's ear, arms tight across the human's belly and feathers rustling as they seemed to just fall into emptiness. For a stomach churning moment, Dean's panicked thoughts imagined a terrible death dashed against sharp rocks, or lying battered and broken at the bottom of the mountain, waiting for Uriel to rescue them.
But that awareness pulsed through him again, soothing and confident. Gritting his teeth, Dean trusted Chevy's instinct, trying to push away the fear that always consumed him whenever air travel was involved.
She landed, claws digging into the wet rock with a crack. Her powerful legs bunched, and just as quickly, she vaulted again, air whistling past them.
"You did it, Dean!" Castiel's words were swept away on the wind, but Dean could feel the angel's smile against his ear, feel the drugged happiness exuding from the angel's very being. "You are truly Ne'gassagen now!"
Chevy landed again, loose rock sent clattering, but this time Dean trusted her. He trusted her to know where to step, where to jump and land. There would be no horrible deaths here.
Dean relaxed, and the fear that usually paralyzed him was gone, stolen by the wind whipping past. As they finally made it to flat land, Chevy launching through the forest easily, Dean felt wild and carefree, voice whooping through the trees as Castiel laughed behind him.
His thighs vibrated as Chevy screamed her happiness along with him, the three of them a wild force of nature, as free and untamed as Oadriax herself.
The older angel females were out washing various rugs and clothes as Sam wandered down to the main river. The clan used it for pretty much everything and the grassy banks were strewn with clothes spread out to dry in the midday suns. A gaggle of very young children sat on the bank, some playing in the shallow water with happy squeals as they splashed one another. Sam shot them a smile as he passed, and their squealing grew louder.
Raphael sat a little ways from the edge of the water, surrounded by a few females, and she shot Sam a small smile and nod as he passed. The iadnamad was telling them a story about Geiad, no doubt a teaching, and all the angels listened to her respectfully.
All except Lucifer.
The baltoh sat sullenly nearby, ordered by Michael himself to protect Raphael. Sam avoided the angel nervously, electing instead to follow the well tread dirt path away from the river. It followed a smaller stream full of life, and Sam watched the brightly colored fish deliberately, avoiding Lucifer's gaze. Eventually, he could feel those cool eyes leave him as he moved further into the forest, and Sam breathed a sigh of relief.
The stream led to a small pond, the water still and quiet. It was a perfect bathing spot, and it was here Sam finally caught up with Gabriel.
The angel had waded towards the center of the pond, water above his waist. He gave Sam a friendly wave as he approached, and Sam settled on the bank, slipping his boots off with a satisfied groan.
"No offence, but your brother is creepy," Sam remarked, toeing off his socks and slipping his overheated feet into the cool water. He curled his toes happily, watching small fish dart in to investigate.
Gabriel snorted, cupping water in his hands and splashing it towards his face. "You're telling me. Try growing up with him."
Sam chuckled as Gabriel flicked his wings clear of excess water. It was like watching a bird of Earth; the angel's wings were cocked, feathers puffed and happy as he dipped his shoulders towards the water. His wings dipped briefly into the water, before pulling out to shake furiously. Droplets shimmered in the sunlight along the delicate feathers, like tiny adorned gems.
Gabriel paused for a moment, turning to look at Sam, before chuckling and shaking his head.
Sam swung his feet back and forth in the water, scaring the fish away. "What?"
Gabriel ducked his face into the water, smoothing his wet hair back as he came up.
"It's just, surreal, you know? You're here and I'm here and it's just," he shrugged. "Like a dream."
Sam laughed. "Yeah 'cause I totally dream about watching an overgrown pigeon have a bath."
Gabriel paused, arching an eyebrow. "You mean to tell me you don't?"
He and Gabriel had quickly struck up a firm friendship since Sam's first days in the clan. Something about the baltoh just made Sam feel at ease, and they were just as curious as each other. Gabriel was intelligent and Earth obsessed, and Sam was, sometimes, intelligent and Oadriax obsessed. Gabriel made him feel welcome, less of an awkward earthling, and Sam was grateful. Even though, half the time Sam wasn't sure if the angel was joking, or flirting with him.
Sam found he didn't really mind either way.
It was a novel thing, having a friend. He hadn't been very social at school, much more focused on his work, or Jess. His closest friend was his brother, but even Sam had to admit that there had been a few rough years between Dean and him.
Sam jerked his foot above the water, flicking droplets towards Gabriel with a kick.
"You know what I meant."
Gabriel chuckled, ducking back under water briefly. "Well okay let me rephrase. It's, weird you know?"
Sam felt a brief surge of nervousness. Did the angel not enjoy being around him? So he was just an annoying earthling who had no business being a part of any Ne'gassagen proje-
Gabriel wriggled a finger in his ear, spitting out water. "I could see your world, this, amazing, alien thing that I could read about, and watch holos of, and I wanted to be a part of it. I wanted to see your Citadel and check out everything I've been missing. I guess, in a way, I felt more a part of it than my own world."
The angel shrugged, rubbing his wings together. "And having you here, it finally feels like I got a piece of it."
Sam smiled warmly, nervousness melting away into sudden relief. "You really are a sentimental sap, aren't you?"
Sam yelped as, Gabriel sent a wave of water crashing towards him with a brief flex of wings. It soaked him through, and Sam glowered over at the grinning angel.
"Real mature," Sam sighed, grabbing the bottom of his now wet t-shirt. "Well, for what it's worth, I was the same."
He peeled the fabric away from his stomach and chest, lifting it over his head. Wet tendrils of hair stuck to his cheeks, and he brushed them away absently. His t-shirt made a wet splat as he tossed it behind him, the afternoon air already warming his chilled skin.
"I wanted to be here instead of Earth. It was so exotic and exciting," Sam rolled his eyes. "And way better than the Citadel, believe me."
Gabriel was staring at him, expression strangely slack. Sam frowned, glancing down at himself curiously. Did he have something on him? Hopefully not a poisonous Loxosceles or something equally as terrifying. His own bare skin glared up at him, nothing out of the ordinary, and Sam glanced back up.
"Gabe?"
The angel snapped out of his stupor, turning back around briskly. "Oh. Yup. What a pair we are, huh?"
Sam watched him, puzzled. The angel's movements were jerky as he continued his grooming, shoulders stiff and tense.
Shrugging, Sam got to his feet, fingers unbuttoning his jeans. Gabriel seemed to freeze at the rustling, keeping his eyes forward as Sam struggled out of his damp jeans.
"Whatcha doing, Sam?" the angel asked carefully.
"Well some jerk got my clothes wet, so I figured I might as well cool off." Noticing the angel's rigid posture, Sam snorted. "Oh calm down Gabriella, I've got underwear on."
At the nickname, Gabriel relaxed, limbs melting back into his usual graceful movements. Sam tentatively waded in, shuddering at the cold water as it climbed up his legs. The water was beautifully blue, slightly cloudy, but the perfect temperature for the warm day.
"Well I'm glad one of us does," Gabriel chirped cheerfully as Sam waded out towards him. "Though you won't be needing them."
Sam peered over at him suspiciously, water lapping against his own thighs. "I won't?"
Gabriel ignored him, continuing to wash himself. It was then Sam noticed the water dipping around the angel's hipbones. The water was mostly cloudy, but he could see pale skin stretch beneath the surface, tapering down towards-
Naked.
Gabriel was naked.
Sam felt like slapping himself. Of course Gabriel was naked. Who went bathing in their clothes?
Just Samantha-the-prude, apparently, Sam groaned silently.
He stood there awkwardly, unsure what he should do. Should he leave? Gabriel hadn't exactly told him to go away when he had come over. It was no different than a shower room really, wasn't it? No big deal. Just, naked angel. No problem, he had shared an apartment with Dean long enough and he had had roommates back at college. This wasn't weird. Except…
This wasn't his brother. This was Gabriel.
A naked Gabriel.
Sam just stood there, blushing and flustered as he silently argued with himself. Gabriel continued his wash, apparently not sharing Sam's discomfort. The angel happily ducked into the water, only to re-emerge in a wide spray of glittering droplets. It was after Gabriel's third dip into the water that Sam stopped arguing with himself long enough to notice the angel's wings.
Angel's communicated a lot with their wings. Sam had done several modules of it at college—even had an exam or two on it. He had watched hours of footage, studied the flick of feathers, the curves of coverts. He knew the subtle differences of feather movements, was as well versed in the language of wings as Enochian, even though the human had none of his own.
Gabriel's own speckled wings drooped low into the water, curving slightly towards Sam. It was a submissive posture, and Sam watched as the feathers rippled. A sudden quick sweep upwards and the wings were displayed in all their glory. The feathers stretched wide and posturing. Then finally, dropped back down to fold tightly against Gabriel's back, smooth and flat.
Sam had watched these holos. Had sat through the lectures where other students giggled and nudged each other as their professor droned on in a very clinical voice about courtship, reproduction and a host of other boring sounding words.
Sam froze, unsure.
Gabriel hummed innocently to himself, splashing water along his arms as his wings repeated the same three postures. Sam watched as the muscles shifted beneath the angel's skin, the curve of his back and the place where feathers overlapped skin. From the first moment he had met Gabriel he had wanted to touch them, to trace the rippling joints and muscles.
Now he was being invited, and Sam didn't have much willpower to begin with.
"Gabriel," he warned lowly. "I don't, I don't think you know what you're doing."
Gabriel didn't look at him, continuing his washing. "What's that, Sam?" he chirped as his wing postures changed. Sam spluttered as he recognized the invitation to do something incredibly scandalous. He crossed his arms stoically, going for a stern, mature approach.
"Gabriel," Sam tried again, ignoring the slight waver in his voice. "I believe you're trying to seduce me."
Gabriel turned to him, gold eyes round with mock shock as his wings stilled.
"What, me?" he smiled wickedly, and Sam's heart gave a worried thump. "Why, is it working?"
The angel moved closer, and Sam avoided his eyes, taking a step back as he held his hands up. Water sloshed against his legs, preventing any attempt at a quick getaway.
"Gabriel, I uh, I just…"
Sam's voice faltered as Gabriel's chest pressed up against his hands, Sam's fingers twitching against warm skin. Gabriel's eyes were like melted molasses, a sticky caramel that locked Sam into place, and the human exhaled shakily as Gabriel slowly curled his fingers around Sam's wrists. Slowly and deliberately, Gabriel drew Sam's hands away, stepping in closer.
"Samuel," Gabriel said seriously, and Sam held his breath as the angel leaned in close. "Would you do me the honor, of fucking the living daylightss out of me?"
Sam was coughing immediately, spluttering on embarrassment and amusement. Gabriel took it in good grace, wings curling to latch onto Sam's shoulders.
"Came on too strong?" Gabriel's smile was infectious, and Sam found himself smiling back, amusement winning over embarrassment. "I meant it when I said I was going to climb you, Sam."
Sam was suddenly helpless with laughter, hit by the silliness of it all. "So, what, you just see me, shirtless and that's it?" he managed to gasp between breaths.
Tugging Sam closer with his wings, Gabriel moved in for the kill, rising up on his toes. Tilting his face up, he dragged Sam down with a firm hand on the back of the human's neck. Surprisingly, the kiss was gentle, just a smooth press of lips against each other.
"Yeah. That's pretty much it," Gabriel breathed as he pulled away.
Sam stared down at him with wide eyes, and Gabriel waited, looking up at him expectantly. The angel's thumb rubbed circles against the skin of Sam's neck as his damp wings slid along Sam's arms, and the taller man shivered slightly.
"You're serious," Sam whispered, in awe that an angel would actually even consider something like that with a human.
With him.
Gabriel leaned up to press a chaste kiss against the corner of his mouth. "For once. It doesn't happen often, so relish it, kiddo."
And for once, Sam did. He didn't overthink anything, worry about consequences or responsibilities. Gabriel wanted him.
And weirdly enough, he wanted Gabriel.
The angel yelped as Sam hoisted him up, laughing as Sam nipped his ear. His wings flapped once, and using the momentum, Gabriel wrapped his legs around Sam's hips, strong thighs pressing in tightly.
Huh. Gabriel wasn't lying about being naked.
Gabriel kissed him with no reservations, open mouthed and eager. Sam responded in kind, biting Gabriel's lip playfully as he splayed his hands across the curve of Gabriel's ass.
"Come on Sam-I-am," the angel whispered, eyes molten gold. "For science."
Sam laughed breathlessly, grunting as Gabriel's fingers trailed down his chest, fingers pulling impatiently at the waistband of his soaked briefs. "Seriously? For science?"
Gabriel pulled back, wrinkling his nose thoughtfully. "Okay, maybe not for science. I don't want you scribbling down notes while you're fucking me. Paper cuts are a bitch."
Sam found his roar of laughter bitten off into the heated cavern of Gabriel's mouth, the waistband of his underwear pinging against his skin with a flare of pain as the two of them slipped, tumbling into the cloudy water with a splash.
The suns were setting, hurtling a blaze of reds and purples across the pale sky. A flock of Rageba moved by, dark splashes against the fiery sky as they noisily called to one another. The late day air was still humid, a heavy weight that sat in Sam's lungs as he sprawled along the bank of the pond, limbs boneless. His damp hair curled against his cheeks as he gazed upwards, Gabriel pressed up against his side with one leg flung across Sam's. The angel's wings were spread beneath them, a feather pillow to protect them from the rough earth.
Sam ran his fingers against the feathers beneath his arm and Gabriel shifted, arching his back happily.
"I was right," the angel said smugly, drumming his fingers on Sam's stomach. "They do grow 'em big on Earth."
Sam chuckled, tugging a cluster of feathers playfully. Gabriel yelped, raising his head to glower good naturedly.
"Nothing can shut you up can it?" Sam reached out to brush a strand of wet hair from Gabriel's forehead. "You and your big mouth."
There was a wicked gleam in Gabriel's eye as he leant forward to nip at Sam's lips, soothing the sting with his tongue. "Well maybe not nothing. I can think of a certain something that could certainly keep said big mouth busy."
Heat flushed along his skin, nerves tingling where Gabriel's fingers touched. But Sam merely tugged the angel back down with a smile. They lay together, looking up at the colorful sky as birds squawked in the trees, insects happily buzzing in the bushes.
"Her name was Jess," Sam blurted suddenly, disturbing the silence. Gabriel cocked his head curiously, and Sam struggled on. "She was, she was my everything for a lot of years."
Gabriel rose onto one arm, listening. Taking that as an invitation to continue, Sam swallowed, still staring at the sky.
"She got me through some tough times, encouraged me to do well in school. She, she made me a better man."
Gabriel nodded. "Why did you leave her?"
Sam sighed. "I, I didn't. I wanted her to come with me, but she said no. I think, I think she knew I wanted to go somewhere she couldn't really follow."
The insects hummed quieter, and Gabriel's feathers were comforting beneath him. It felt natural to speak to Gabriel like this, to share something personal. "She knew this was my dream. She wanted me to achieve it."
Gabriel trailed his fingers along Sam's arm. "She sounds like quite the lady."
"She was," Sam turned his head to look at the angel, following the lines of the face he had come to know so intimately. He reached over to touch Gabriel's cheek. "I'll always love her. But I feel ready to move on too. I, I think you have something to give me she couldn't."
Gabriel brightened at that, eyes sparking with mischief. "A dick?" he asked brightly.
Sam's laughter was high and carefree, rising above the trees. Angels further away heard it and glanced towards the forest with curiosity before shaking their heads and continuing their work.
Using his larger size, Sam rolled the angel beneath him, pinning Gabriel's wrists. The angel buffeted him playfully with his wings but made no attempt to free himself.
"I'm glad you're here Sam," he admitted quietly, and there was a vulnerability hidden there. "I really am."
Sam leant down to kiss him again, noses bumping together. "Me too, Gabriel."
When he pulled away, Gabriel sighed, struggling into a sitting position.
"I guess we should go get ready. Big night and all that."
Sam smiled as he watched the angel retrieve his clothes. "I've heard the Ne'gassagen can throw quite the party."
Gabriel slipped into his leggings, tying the lacings with quick, practiced movements. "Kid, you have no idea."
The suns had set, and the home tree was a bustle of activity in preparation for the ceremony. It was all the angels could talk about; a toltag being accepted into their tribe, and many cooking fires were aglow around the large tree. Every angel was preparing and excited.
All, except one.
Lucifer shoved plants aside irritably, moving further away from the home tree and the clan. The path he was following was hardly used, overgrown and crowded with grass. As the voices of his clan eventually faded, he grew more nervous, his wings twitching sporadically. Lucifer did not enjoy travelling on the ground, but he had little choice. To use a Levithmong would raise suspicion and this was a task that required the utmost secrecy. If Michael were to discover him…
The forest grew darker around him. It was with a great sense of relief when he reached the clearing. The trees had been cleared by humans many years ago and had never regrown. Lucifer sneered at the short stumps that remained, trailing his fingers along the blistered bark.
Humans. Ruined everything they touched.
Squatting in the middle of the clearing, metallic and burnt, was the hollowed out shell of a research lab. It was an outpost the humans had once used years ago, when running to and from their large complex had grown too wearying. Now it lay decaying, forgotten and discarded.
A familiar guilt rose in his belly as he looked at it, hot and fierce, and Lucifer glanced away, drawing his wings close.
Was he here? Perhaps Lucifer had read the signs wrong, and he hadn't been summoned. Perhaps he could finally escape the cursed-
"So. You finally decide to make an appearance."
A figure moved in the darkness, a shadow that separated from the hollow metal husk of the lab. Even in the dim light, Lucifer could see those awful eyes.
"I got your message," he ground, hating how quickly he had come, like an eager Levithmong ready to please its master. "But we agreed-"
"The rules have changed." White teeth grinned at him from the shadows, and Lucifer's skin crawled.
He puffed his wings irritably, folding his arms defensively across his chest. The air was cool, made all that colder by the ghosts of the past that still remained in the clearing, brushing their dead fingers along the angel's skin. If Lucifer listened closely, he could still hear the crackling of a fire, the screaming of a trapped woman and the worried shouts of his own father.
"I helped you once," Lucifer hissed angrily, though his voice was hushed. "And you promised me that was the last of it, that once she died-"
"And you got what you wanted didn't you?"
The yellow eyes danced, corrupt and demanding.
"The power your father had fell to your brother. With no offspring, you will rule after him. Huzzah, celebrations all around."
Lucifer bared his teeth, wings jerking. The night was growing darker, and the figure seemed to fade from view.
"It was never my intention for Father to die as well!" he spat venomously. "If I had known what you were truly planning, I would not, could not-"
The figure shrugged, rustling in the dark. "Consider it a bonus. A little, freebie."
"No," Lucifer's voice rang out in the clearing, and the breeze whistled through the dead husk beside them. "No more. I will not help you."
There was a sigh. "Well that's a darn shame."
Lucifer had not known of the existence of demons until the humans had come. He had not known of concepts such as deceit, or evil. Now he felt tainted, as if somehow the knowledge had wormed its way beneath his skin and rotted him from within. Made him less of what he was.
The humans had ruined everything.
Lucifer spat out a curse, turning and intending to walk away to leave the dreadful place, along with the terrible creature that demanded awful things of him.
"I'm sure Michael would be pretty glad to hear that," the figure drawled. "Wait a minute, he does know doesn't he? I suppose that would be a real shock if he didn't."
Lucifer stopped, and his chest tightened. "You wouldn't."
There was a dark chuckle behind him, the brush of a finger across his trembling wings.
"I don't think you really understand this little set up we have."
The finger turned into a fist, twisting into his feathers viciously and Lucifer bit down on his tongue, drawing blood. A pained grunt rattled in his throat, but he stood perfectly still, not daring to pull away. A feather snapped, another tearing free, and Lucifer squeezed his eyes shut.
"Now, let me tell you how we do this, pigeon."
He could feel the dark tendrils of the creature behind him, could feel the shards of hatred and evil sear into his wings. Lucifer wondered if the very same slick corruption sat heavy in his own soul.
"I say jump, you ask how high. I say kill-"
Lucifer whined low in his throat as fingers dug into the sensitive joint of his left wing. "You ask how many. And if you don't, I let your little clan know just who was behind their beloved leader's death."
Lucifer was released, and he stood there shaking, teeth grinding together.
"Perhaps I do not care if you tell Michael," he finally said boldly, wings twitching as there was a forced bark of laughter from the shadows.
"Oh there are worse things I could do than just tell him," the figure was moving away now, towards the empty outpost. Violence was promised in its voice. "You really want to test me? Want to see how far I'll go?"
Lucifer's wings slumped with defeat. If there was one thing that frightened him more than Michael knowing what he had done, it was something happening to Michael.
The figure knew it had won. Lucifer was left in the clearing, listening to the dark laughter of a corrupt evil and the moaning whispers of past mistakes.
Dean shivered as cold clay dragged across his cheek. A group of older female angels surrounded him, drawing swirls and patterns onto his bare chest and face with a dyed thick goop that smelt strongly of herbs. The air was smoky and thick with the scent of incense, hollow wooden drums clanging over the excited murmurs of the gathered angels. His shirt and ID tags were back at the complex, folded carefully on his bed. He felt too naked without them, vulnerable and open.
An ancient angel, with tattered and dusty wings, slid her hand across his shoulder smearing the white clay across the faded print of Castiel's hand. Dean stiffened unhappily, but she nodded her hand wisely, clucking to him in Enochian as she drew further spirals down his bicep.
By the time Castiel finally made his way through the females, Dean was covered in the white flaky clay.
Dean flapped his arms uselessly, willing the paint to dry quicker as he mouthed an obvious save me towards the angel. The same ancient female at his arm swatted at him with her gnarled hands, scolding him with a creaky voice as her tattered wings shook. Castiel stifled a laugh, grabbing Dean by the elbow, carefully avoiding the paint.
"It is time Dean," the angel nodded towards the old ladies, and they shuffled away with mutters. "It is time to earn your place amongst the people."
Castiel was dolled up just like the other baltoh of the clan, with intricate wooden bracelets, beads and soft crème leggings. Various feathers in his wings were dyed, hues of blues, yellows and reds. Instead of white clay like Dean, Castiel wore dark blue, the goop dotted along his brow and cheeks in a spiral pattern.
Castiel led Dean through the tight throng of angels, towards the base of the home tree where Michael waited, Raphael at his side. The iadnamad was wearing a brightly colored plumage of feathers around her neck that draped down her chest, the same colors Castiel wore on his wings. Her face was anointed with the same paint Dean wore, flaking and white where it ringed her eyes and lips.
Michael was drab in comparison, his face painted much like the other baltoh. The only exception was his woven crown, barely visible in his dark hair as he bowed his head towards Dean.
Castiel paused in front of them, releasing Dean. The angel bowed towards his brother, murmuring a quiet greeting, before retreating off to the side where Gabriel stood. Dean could see Sam a little further away, smiling widely and eyes looking a little damp, the top of Bobby's head just visible beside him as the scientist strained to see the ceremony on his tiptoes.
"Dean Winchester," Michael rumbled, and Dean jerked in surprise as the angel spoke in English. "You have come before us today, to become a Ne'gassagen. The first time in our history that a toltag has joined our clan."
Dean had gone over this with Castiel. He dipped his head, eyes to the ground. "I am honored. Dorphal mirc ol lit nazarth."
Raphael smiled, paint crinkling around her eyes as she stepped down towards him. "The honor, brother, is ours."
Slowly she reached out to touch his shoulder, palm curving over the swell of his socket. Her hand was smaller than Castiel's, but she put it to the faded scar, tracing it almost reverently.
"You have spent time with us, learnt our ways and shown us that the toltag are honorable and proud, worthy of respect," Raphael murmured. "You have proven your worth, and have earned the right to join our clan. Do you agree to this? To become one of us, Geiad's own children?"
Dean swallowed nervously, glancing towards Castiel. The angel smiled, nodding slightly, and Dean took a deep breath.
"I do," he said solemnly, and Raphael squeezed his shoulder encouragingly. "I mean, yes."
Raphael nodded. "May Geiad guide your path with us, and keep you safe in her keeping. Let the clans know your name, and know that you are as much our brother, as we are your family."
Michael nodded, coming to stand beside Raphael. With a heavy hand, he touched Dean's other shoulder. "So it has been, and shall be ever more. Welcome, brother."
The angels around them began to shuffle inwards, murmuring the same phrase, and Dean held himself still as hands touched his shoulders and chest, all reverent and respectful.
Up until someone tweaked his nipple, and Dean spotted a pair of laughing gold eyes in the crowd.
"Well done," Gabriel winked at him, and Dean glared at him halfheartedly. "Welcome to our crazy little family!"
Another hand definitely just pinched his ass, and Dean wasn't at all surprised to see Balthazar emerge to join Gabriel.
"Cleans up good doesn't he?" the tall blonde chuckled, and the two angels shared leers. "If I'd known the muscles he was hiding under all that shirt-"
Castiel shoved them both aside forcefully, and the two disappeared back into the crowd with surprised squawks.
Dean smiled gratefully at him, as Castiel fitted his hand to the fading handprint on his shoulder, murmuring the welcome words quietly.
"So I guess I'm an angel now huh?" Dean joked. "When do I get my wings?"
Castiel pulled away, and Dean was struck by how, happy the angel looked.
"You are indeed an angel now. I am, how do you say," Castiel ducked his head self-consciously. "Proud. I am very proud of you, Dean."
A few weeks ago such an admission would have made him cringe. But now Dean merely laughed, slinging an arm around Castiel's shoulders.
"Well you better be, after all that crap you put me through," he jostled the smaller man affectionately. "Making me ride a Levithmong on the first day, Cas? Really?"
Castiel laughed, winding his arm around Dean's back. "I was curious to see how you would react."
Dean could see Sam walking over with Bobby, both men looking a little moist around the eyes.
"You know what Cas?" Dean smiled, giving his brother a wave. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
Dean didn't miss the angel's pleased smile. He gave Castiel another nudge, and grinned as Castiel responded by buffeting him with a wing.
Sam was sniffing as he approached, Bobby giving Dean a fatherly pat on the shoulder.
"Well done, son," the old scientist grinned. "You did good."
Dean disentangled from Castiel to give the man a brief hug. "Thanks, Bobby. Couldn't have done it without you."
Bobby laughed. "Or by gettin' lost all those weeks ago. Maybe we should go thank that cat monster huh?"
Sam wrapped Dean in a fierce hug, pulling away with a happy sigh. "Man, that was just, beautiful."
He turned to Castiel then, grinning mischievously as he advanced on the angel with open arms. "I guess that makes you my new brother huh? Gotta live up to the Winchester name!"
Castiel accepted the hug graciously, shooting an amused smile towards Dean as Sam worked at smothering him completely. "Thank you, Samuel. I shall endeavor to meet your expectations."
Sam snorted. "You won't have to work too hard. Dean set the bar pretty low."
"Hey!" Dean protested, and the other three laughed.
Gabriel bounced over, shooting Sam a huge smile before turning to Castiel.
"Alright baby bro. Let's get this party started before Michael drinks all the booze. You know how he gets at a party."
The elder baltoh punched Dean lightly on the arm, smiling. "I guess I'll have to start calling you baby bro number two or something. Wait, no, you and Castiel can be team double trouble!"
Balthazar guffawed, pushing Sam aside. "I'm going to lose track of how many brothers I have now. Angel, human, you're all equally annoying to me."
"Love you too," Dean shot towards him. "Now can we all go get drunk please? I've been through a lot today, wrangling beasts like three times my size and shit."
Balthazar clapped his hands. "A man after my own heart! Come on ducklings, Uncle Balthy will show you how it's done."
Castiel hung back to walk with Dean, knuckles brushing against the back of Dean's hand as they walked side by side. Gabriel and Balthazar led the way towards the Levithmong field, chattering excitedly to Sam and Bobby.
"I'm really glad I'm here, Cas," Dean sighed, feeling relaxed and content. Even the worry of Alistair and Azazel back at the base couldn't faze him right now. "Bobby's right, we gotta go thank that cat monster."
Castiel smiled. "I am glad also, Dean. But perhaps in the absence of the Vniglag, we should thank Geiad. I believe it was her who set you upon this path."
Dean felt the angel touch his hand softly, fingertips just ghosting across his skin.
"And I am most grateful," Castiel whispered.
Dean glanced towards the sky, up into the uppermost boughs of the home tree. Raising his fist solemnly, he fist bumped the stars.
"Right on, Geiad. Right on."
Well one thing was definitely true: the Ne'gassagen definitely knew how to party.
A large fire had been built in the Levithmong field, and angels danced around it, accompanied with primal wooden flutes and drums. The smell of roasting meat was strong in the air, food and drink laid out on the grass. Every angel of the clan was present. Dean could even see a sullen Lucifer goaded into a dance with a group of young angels. The sourpuss even managed a smile as a young girl stood on his bare feet to dance.
Bobby sat with Michael, the scientist already pretty drunk on the heady fruit drunk the Ne'gassagen served, arguing about the finer points of what sounded like, bowling. Complete with awkward hand movements.
Gabriel had dragged Sam into an energetic dance, the angel's smaller form twirling and circling as he kicked up his feet and fluttered his wings. Sam looked awkward at first, towering above most of the merrymakers, but seemed to get into it once Gabriel sidled up to him, showing the human how to move with his hands and body.
Dean looked away, towards a large gaggle of women. Raphael was dancing in their midst, black hair wild and hips swaying to the music. Balthazar suddenly bowled into the group, sending most of the women scattering with giggles as he grabbed ahold of Raphael's hands, swinging her around. The iadnamad laughed, her usual stern look relaxed and joyful.
Castiel had tried to coax him to dance, but Dean just felt foolish, too ungraceful and coarse for something so fluid and graceful. Also, way too sober.
So now, Castiel danced alone, but never strayed far from where Dean sat. A few times Uriel bumbled into the dance ring, dark eyes staring intently at Castiel. But the younger angel always seemed to slip out of his grasp, disappearing into the crowd only to reemerge near Dean.
Dean stayed where he was, watching everyone. His skin was tight where the clay had cracked, and he scratched his arm idly, shooting smiles and nods at the angels that passed him and called out joyful words. His eyes seemed weighted though, always returning to Castiel without fail.
He was by far one of the most graceful angels currently dancing. Castiel spun and swayed with the best of them, spine flowing like water as he twisted to the beat. The fire glanced off his feathers, shimmering in the fire light like arching flames. The dye in his wings made the black stand out even more, the blue dotted on his pale face accenting his eyes. He looked so otherworldly that Dean didn't recognize him, couldn't see the quiet, sometimes grumpy angel he had spent so much time with. This Castiel was untamed and wild, free and primal and, well…
Beautiful.
Dean jerked as Castiel suddenly stumbled towards him, and Dean saw the dark flash of Uriel nearby.
Castiel was smiling widely, eyes bright in the light as he took Dean's hand boldly.
"Come, Dean," he said softly, and Dean's heart lurched. "There is something I want to show you."
Dean didn't question him, dutifully getting to his feet and following the angel, away from the fire and celebrations. They moved towards the forest, so dark in comparison, and for a moment Dean paused, glancing back towards the fire, unsure.
Castiel sensed his hesitation, and squeezed Dean's hand reassuringly. "Trust me. Do you trust me, Dean?"
Sam was laughing, head thrown back and hair swinging wildly. Dean watched him for a moment, noticing how Gabriel slid in against his side, saw Sam throw his arm around the smaller man and tuck him close. Bobby was still gesturing wildly at Michael, and Dean could hear his gruff tones even over the loud chatter of the party.
His old family was safe, happy. It was okay to let them go, even if it was just for a little while.
Dean squeezed back, fingers tight around Castiel's.
"Always, Cas."
They slipped into the forest, leaving the safety of the home tree behind.