What a… peculiar situation. Here I was, getting intimate with two stunning goddesses, and suddenly I was sprawled over a shabby sofa in some run-down house with little Castiel and a demon, of all beings!

"Well… This is unexpected", I said and sat up, not even bothering to hide my half-way nudity. Castiel didn't seem to care in a way or another – does he have anything below his waist, anyways? – and the demon only scoffed and went to fix himself a drink. Rather boisterous move, since it meant that he had to turn his back towards the possible threat, and that's probably was the idea – to show how little he cared about archangel appearing in the room. I had to admit that the little guy got some spunk.

"So, where's the party, Castiel?" I asked.

"We need your help, Gabriel." Trust that my little-brother never wastes his words.

"I had a delusion that I already told you what's my opinion about the matter", I pointed out.

I was little surprised when the demon came back to us and offered me a glass. As I raised my eyebrow questioning manner, he just shrugged and said, "Well, drinking is always better with company. Just don't give anything to our other feathered fella here – he has bad track-record."

Castiel frowned rather adorably. "I got over it", he said sulkily.

"You drank a whole liquor shop empty!"

"…It was only once…"

"Be what it might, but I need you on focus, so no drinks on my watch, sweetie!"

Listening their banter made me honestly feel even more baffled, since it sounded almost… fond; something that may happen between two close friends. But surely Castiel wouldn't be naive enough to actually become friendly with a demon…?

And speaking about the demon, there was something… strange in him. Inside his meatsuit, he seemed pretty much like the others – ugly little buggers, they are – but there was still something else, something that I had a hard time to point my finger on, buried deep inside of his ruined form. It was almost like… very thin memento of grace. Not strong enough to belong to an angel, even a fallen one, but certainly enough to belong to…

"Nephilim", I said out of loud, and they both turned to look at me, Castiel looking little lost and the demon down-right furious. "You're a Nephilim, turned into a demon… First time I see something like that…"

Castiel turned back towards the demon, looking like a betrayed puppy-dog. "You never told me that, Fergus."

The demon called Fergus sighed with irritation. "You've met my father, Castiel; I thought that it was implied, since no matter how close he is with Aziraphale, neither of them has even thought about making effort for each other –"

Hearing Aziraphale's name made a little feeling of nostalgia surge through me. He had once belonged in my garrison, after all, before that little mess with flaming sword… He was a friendly guy, at least as long as no-one made mess in the Heaven's library, when he reminded them exactly why he was one of the Principalities.

As what came to this demon's father… Well, hadn't Aziraphale always been a little too close with so-called Snake of Eden…?

"So, you know Aziraphale, then? Does he still walk with his nose buried into a book?" I asked, now honestly intrigued; it has been so long…

"Nah, father made him stop that after he almost stepped on him", the demon answered, confirming my speculation.

I smiled wryly. "Let me guess: Your father's name is Crawly."

"Crowley", the demon corrected by pure instinct, before looking at me with wary eyes. "Why do you ask?"

I shrugged. "They always seemed to enjoy each other's company a little too much for someone's who fight on a different sides… and it seems to be inheritable feature", I continued pointedly.

"We are not "enjoying" the company", Castiel said, looking little offended. "We're just allies due similar interest."

"And here I thought there was something bigger than life going on between the two of us", the demon sighed dramatically. That he probably got from his mother's side – Crawly, or Crowley, never seemed to have any theatrical tendencies. Not that I knew him that well – even in Heaven, before Lucifer's fall, he was known to be a little odd fella, always looking things at different point-of-view and making suggestions that almost could have been called heretic.

But little Crowley having a son…! Well, that was surprise; he never seemed to have any interest towards women duiring those very old days, before it was decided that angels should no more lay with humans. Back then, Nephilims were considered almost common accuracies – as opposite of nowadays, when they're considered being abominations even more monstrous than demons.

I guess that that's one reason of why Crowley let his son become a demon; It's easier to hide one abomination into the horde of others.

But as interesting as that all was, I wasn't about to let them distract me; I wanted the war to be over, period, and that meant that the Winchesters had to play their part.

"Not like I've got anything against little family reunion every now and then, but as you can probably guess from my state of undressing, I had something important going on, so…" I tried to fly away, but it was like slamming against see-thorough wall; the whole place was warded.

I turned to glare the demon, who shrugged innocently. "Not my doing."

"Whose, then? I doubt that Castiel could make something like this in his pitiful current state." And of course I felt bad as soon as I had let that frog out of my mouth; my poor brother didn't need any reminders about how much of his power he had already lost.

Castiel took my barf with dignity. "Loke promised us a change to talk with you; I doubt you'll be able to leave before we've done just that."

"Loke?" Oh Father, did they really have to bring him into this…? "Castiel, you should know better than make deals with pagans!"

My brother didn't look very impressed. "You certainly aren't giving me a good example about that."

"Where – Where does that snarkiness come from?" I exclaimed. It must be that demon – or maybe those Winchesters. I should really smite them all for corrupting my innocent little brother like this!

The demon had audacity to roll his eyes. "Cut out the dramatics, will you?" (Like he's in any place to say that to me, damn drama queen!) "We need some info. Can you tell us anything about how Lucifer was originally captured?"

"Maybe I could, but why should I?" I said sullenly – yes, it's childish, but I don't much appreciate of being held in custody.

Castiel seemed disappointed – and really, was he really still holding any high regards towards me? That boy needs better role-models, asap. "Don't you care at all what happens to this world?" he demands.

I shrugged. "No, why should I? It's not like the world cares about us, either. Besides, we already had this chat, remember? Me, you and Winchesters in the warehouse?"

"Why did I miss that party?" the demon mutters.

"But we're not asking you to fight for us or even actively to take part any of this; just tell us what you know about Lucifer's first imprisonment and we'll work out something of it", Castiel said pleadingly.

"And then he'll escape again one day and it all will start again", I said little nasally. After seeing how he looked at me, I sighed and continued, "…Castiel, I can't take this again. It was bad enough at the first time, and this time it'll be horrible… but at lest, it'll be over, once and for all."

"After taking half of the world with it", the demon pointed out.

I measured him coldly. "I can't see why you would care about that, demon; you're just looking out for yourself."

"Maybe, but so are you; at least my interest are similar as everyone else's who actually lives in this world", he answered just as frostily.

I shook my head. "Sorry, but I'm not able to help you."

The demon snorted. "No – You're just too cowardly to stood against your family even when you know that they're wrong."

It reminded me so strongly about what the Winchester's had said, that it took me a moment before I realized that this abomination had just offended me, and then it was already too late to get mad without sounding like a moron.

Not that it mattered, anyway: they both already looked at me like I was just a one big, worthless moron.

The look of betrayal in Castiel's eyes was almost too much to take: when will that kid understand that there are no heroes around here - but selfish bastards who will first and foremost seek their own ends?

The demon threw his arms up in the air. "Well, this was useless, wasn't it?" he hissed. "You're just leaving us to fight against both sides, while you hide beneath a rock somewhere and do… What, exactly? Hope that the world will still be in one piece when you finally crawl out?"

"They're my family", I hissed back.

"So they are mine", Castiel pointed out, "but I know to not stand aside and watch while they lay ruin over us all."

"But you never know them!" I argued. "Not like I do, at least. You don't know how it was back then, when we all lived together in Heaven, as a family. We cared about each other's!"

"Well, buu-huu", the demon muttered. "As if you're the first and only person in the world ever having a problematic family relationship… Still, you don't seem to have any remorse of forcing the Winchesters to go thorough same thing as you did."

That hit the target, but there was no way I could have ever admitted that. "It's not like you care about them either, abomination!"

The demon snorted. "Them? Hell no! But I just had this silly idea that you would."

Castiel sighed. "You're right, Fergus", he said, "This is useless. Just… mark the discussion completed and let him go. I don't think I can stand his presence right now." And curse me, doesn't that flat, disappointed voice of his cut me right thorough my heart!

The demon seems to be ready to do just that – well, I think he would be more than ready to cut me with the angel blade, but I doubt that Castiel would even now to be ready to allow that – but then I see his eyes narrowing, as if he just got an idea, and for some reason, I feel little shudder of foreboding go through my spine. This can't be good…

"Let's do this: I'll let you go – and you promise to me to visit this one certain place called Lower Tadfield, England, UK."

That was my turn to snort. "So you could attack me with your demon buddies without Castiel witnessing it? Dream on."

The demon shrugged. "At this point, thanks to you brother, I hardly have any demonic buddies to call. And even if I had, they wouldn't be able to go there… Hell, even I can't! The one who lives there wouldn't let us cross the borders."

That sounded little alarming. "Who he is?" I asked, even though I had already decided to stay as far of that place as possible.

The demon only tapped his nose. "That's me to know, and you to find out!" he said, smiling rather irritatingly.

"And what makes you think I would do that after you release me?" I pressed on with suspicion. "Not like I want to offend – no, actually I do! – but you don't look very trusting type of guy."

"Oh, I think I'm ready to trust your curiosity", the demon said smugly.

Damn.


After I was released, I had no intention to go even near of Lower Tadfield, ever. Actually, I thought that staying far from whole England, in period, would be wise thing to do.

But about one thing the demon had been right: my curiosity had always been one of my fatal weaknesses.

So, three days later, I found myself trailing the borders of the little village that looked like something that could be printed on postcard. There was something classically British in it, with its pub and church and post office and little village store and all those picturesque houses where lived people so stereotyped Britons that I first thought that I had been trapped into my own spell – that had to be a set for a TV-series!

Still, it wasn't the village that made me feel like crying; it was the atmosphere. The feeling of pure love, like someone, somewhere, really cherished this place.

It was like Heaven once was… as it was meant to stay.

I could have just laid down there and stay, never moving another muscle and still be completely satisfied.

I heard a distant barking of a dog, and turned around to see young man walking towards me, his mutt twirling around his legs, waving its tail and barking like a madman. There was something little off in the dog, like it wasn't what it seemed to be, but before I had time to think more about it, the young man came close enough for me to see his face.

It took my breath away. Those were Lucifer's face; his eyes, his nose. Even the smile quirking the man's lips was same as my brother once had, before it turned into a parody of itself not long before his fall.

I didn't think twice to know who this boy was – the strange thing being, that even while standing only a few steps apart of him, I felt no threat coming towards me. He just stood there, smiling as he measured me with his gaze before nodding as if he had just confirmed something and taking one hand out of his pocket, offered me an apple.

"My name's Adam Young. I think that the two of us have a lot to talk about, uncle."


I won't tell you the whole contest of what we talked about. The thing about aborted Apocalypse and Adam's impact on it has already been written down elsewhere (and one day I'm really going to hunt down Aziraphale and ask him to tell me the whole thing of his own point-of-view, and maybe I'll make Crawly – Crowley – to do just the same thing), and what comes to the rest of it, well, that was personal. What I can tell you, though, is that we talked a lot about families and person's freedom to decide his own destiny, no matter what everyone else has to say about it. Not once Adam tried to pressure me in a way or another – I think that that's against his philosophy or something – but he listened, and damn, if it wasn't like good old days, me and Lucifer just sitting and chatting like there was nothing wrong in the world – expect, this time there was everything wrong in the world and the most of all in Lucifer himself, and the person sitting on my side wasn't my brother but nephew, resigned Antichrist, but you get the idea.

Anyway, it got me thinking… So many persons have already decided to defy their so-called destiny: Adam, Castiel, Aziraphale, the Winchester brothers… even Crowley and his half-demon, half-Nephilim son.

How could I, Gabriel, the trickster supreme, do anything less than that?

That would be just humiliating.