Would you guys be interested in a "One Wing in the Fire" soundtrack?
One Wing in the Fire (13)
Heaven was far too bright, far too loud, far too big, far too white for Castiel to be comfortable. Or maybe it was just the demon taint on his Grace.
He was in a numb daze, dangling between the arms of the angels who had dragged him away from the brothers, away from Veles' dead form, away from something he had worked so hard to fix. The pain tangled with the dull sense of loss in his mind and wrapped him in a haze. He simply stared at the polished white marble that moved underneath him with wide, blank eyes. He knew there was a commotion around him, knew that angels were talking, knew they were talking about him and about what had happened, and he didn't care.
He found it extremely hard to care about anything.
Fire in the form of fingers grabbed his chin and yanked his head up and Castiel found himself staring into the face of his eldest and most powerful brother. It was Michael. The archangel's bright golden eyes stared directly into Cas' bright blue ones and Castiel tried, he really tried, to hold his brother's gaze. But there was so much Grace and power leaking from Michael's eyes that he had to turn his face away and look over Michael's shoulder instead, staring straight at the archangels six folded, gold and diamond wings that glittered like sunlight on the surface of crystal clear water.
"Oh, my poor brother," Michael's voice was bronze church bells and deep spaces wrapped in flames. He ran his hand over Castiel's head, fingers snagging in the former angel's dark hair, and Cas hissed. It felt like fire was coating his skull.
"My poor, tainted, brother," Michael repeated softly, "What have those demon's done to your precious Grace? Do not fear any longer, Castiel, we will pull the darkness from your soul and you will rejoin us once again. Born anew. The brother we raised from Hell and saved."
Castiel wanted to tell him no, he wanted to tell him that he was wrong, but the words wouldn't come, stuck on the rattling breath in his throat. He was in too much pain and all he could think was that this wrong and that it wasn't right and that Dean and Sam did not deserve to die. He wanted to say that Veles had not deserved to die.
"Take him to the infirmary." Michael commanded, sweeping out of Castiel's line of sight, "And strap him down tight. I am going to collect Uriel, Nathanael, and Seraphiel. I will need their help to extract all the demon taint on Castiel's soul."
The angels began dragging Cas across the floor again. He let his head drop, chin resting against his chest, knees almost touching the floor he was slouched so low in the grip of the two angels. The pain in his wing was becoming intolerable but it was nothing compared to the stabbing pain of betrayal vibrating through the weak strands of his Grace. This was all so very wrong. Was this how Heaven had always been? Had it always been blinding in its attempt to right what it saw as wrong? Had it always simply done and never questioned? Castiel tried to remember but could not compare this Heaven he was seeing now to the Heaven he had been raised in and fought for. How ironic it would be if Hell how been the very thing he had needed to open his eyes to the truth.
A door opened, there was much shuffling and activity, and then Cas felt himself being stretched out on a metal slab. Panic raced through his mind at the familiar feeling, at the reminder of Alastair's cold lair, and he flailed, crying weakly and the other angels swarmed over him and pinned him down. They lashed his wrists and ankles tightly to the table and pinned his wings down, being careful not to further irritate his injured one. He struggled, whimpering, as they swept around him. He could see the darting, part fearful, part hateful looks they were giving him, edging away from the black coils wound around his Grace and he hated them for their prejudice and then hated himself for being just like them.
"Castiel!" An angel with a curl of brown hair, a friendly, slightly pudgy face that was a mask of worry, and six, silver and sapphire wings pushed his way into the room and ran to the side of the table. He was short and his wings looked too big for his body but Gabriel was an archangel and not a force to be trifled with.
"Castiel," Gabriel pressed a hand to Cas' chest and the former angel cringed at the searing pain it brought. Gabriel pulled his hand back sharply, looking even more upset than before, "Are you all right, bro? Hey, someone heal his wing!" No one moved, "Heal him now before he passes out!" One of the angels slid tentatively up to the black feathers still leaking blood and Grace and, after a fervently terrified glance at Cas, reached out to begin the healing process.
"Sheesh, you'd think you were made of poison," Gabriel snorted, turning his gaze back to his younger brother, "Hey, you're going to be just fine. Promise."
"Gabriel…" Castiel gasped, wincing at the hot tendrils of Grace tugging and mending his wing, "I want to go back. The…the Winchesters have done no wrong. Please, brother…"
An unreadable expression twisted Gabriel's features and he opened his mouth to respond when the door opened again and in strode Michael. He was trailed by three other angels, Seraphim like him but lower ranking than himself or Gabriel. Seraphiel took one look at Castiel's black wings, his dark hair, his sharpened teeth and claws, and did nothing to hide the disgust she felt, letting it display clearly across her face. Uriel simply smirked and cracked his fingers. Nathanael said nothing and remained as blank-faced as ever.
"Gabriel," Michael said and there was a false sort of mild surprise in his voice, "How nice of you to join us. Will you be aiding us in ripping that black stain from Castiel's Grace? Because if you are not then I suggest you step back. You are in the way."
Michael and Gabriel had never been on the best of terms.
Gabriel didn't even bother to disguise the dislike on his face as he moved out of the way. He touched Cas' shoulder lightly as he moved against the wall and even though the touch burned, Castiel felt a little reassured. Gabriel still believed in him, Gabriel still cared about him, Gabriel still wanted to look out for his favorite younger brother.
Michael strode up and towered over Castiel, hands clasped importantly behind his back. The other three Seraphim moved around the table so they were all clustered at a point where they could reach Castiel. There was a heavy silence wherein Cas and Michael stared at one another and then Michael raised his hands and said,
"This will hurt, brother. But it is for the greater good."
Then four pairs of hands slammed against Castiel's chest, Grace grabbed onto his soul, and he screamed at the flames ripping through his body.
They were brutal in their assault. They tore at the demon taint, prying it with unforgiving hooks of power from Castiel's Grace, digging deep into it to get every scrap they could. Castiel shuddered and screamed and bucked against their invasion. Never had he felt so wronged, so hurt, so violated. They were stripping ruthlessly away at him, he could feel his own Grace writhing as they ripped the blackness away, It was like tearing a sticky bandage away and feeling the sting as it took a layer of skin with it but on a level that was ten times worse.
This was not right.
This was not how one was saved.
And then, out of spite and pain and anguish, Castiel used his own Grace to snatch a shred of that demon taint away from the reach of his brothers and sister. He pulled it deep within himself and wrapped layer upon layer of his Grace around it, protecting it, shielding it. If he was never going to leave Heaven again, if he was never going to see Sam or Dean again, then he wanted to remember them. He wanted to remember what they had taught him, what they had given him, and what they had helped him to see. He wanted to keep a piece of Hell with him always to remind him that Heaven was not always right.
It took two days for Castiel to wake up after the purging of his Grace.
It took another day for him to become coherent and half of another to stop lashing out at anyone who came near him.
He did not leave the infirmary for three days and when he did, he was escorted straight to his room and he had not left since.
When Gabriel came to see him, he found Castiel wrapped in his pitch black wings in a corner of the room. The bed was undisturbed, he lights were off, and it looked as though all the food that had been delivered had simply been dumped into the trash.
"You're acting like a child," The archangel muttered, shutting the door behind him and flicking on the light. Castiel flinched and hid himself behind his feathers, "Castiel!" Gabriel growled, striding across the room to his brother, "This is not solving anything!"
"Then what do you propose I do, Gabriel?" Castiel asked hoarsely from behind his wings.
Gabriel fumed. He wanted to grab Castiel and shake him until his Grace rattled, he wanted to grip those ebony feathers so hard that they hurt, he wanted to shout at his brother, to scream at him until Castiel lashed out at him because Castiel fighting, Castiel struggling against something, was better than Castiel sulking silently in a corner.
But he didn't do any of those things.
Instead, the archangel knelt down, silver-white robe pooling around his feet, spread his largest pair of wings, and wrapped them around his brother. He let his cooling Grace roll off his wings and wrap around Castiel, he intertwined his shining feathers with Castiel's black ones in a show of affection and brotherly protection, and he gently pried Castiel's wings apart just enough to press a kiss into his brother's dark hair.
"My favorite brother," Gabriel said in a low voice, "Is also my stupidest one."
"I am not stupid." Castiel responded flatly but he lifted his head and looked at Gabriel. His eyes were still the same, shocking blue they had always been but never had Gabriel seen them so hurt and empty and hopeless.
Any anger Gabriel might have felt towards Castiel's attitude drained away and he pressed the back of his hand to his brother's forehead. It was surprisingly warm, compared to the coolness of his Grace, and he couldn't help the smile that twitched across his lips, "So, you picked up a few things from me after all, didn't you? Held onto a little bit of that spitfire, didn't you?"
Castiel's eyes widened in panic that he had been discovered but Gabriel only chuckled and sat back on the floor, withdrawing his wings and folding them loosely behind him. Castiel's own wings had parted but they still pressed tight against his sides and he was still wedged into the corner. Well, it was a start, at least. Gabriel knew that Cas had been hurt—betrayed, even, it seemed—by the brothers and sisters he had relied on to be honest, and true, and good, and to do the right thing. It wasn't that Gabriel had never seen the flaws of Heaven until now, it was just that it held no interest in him to do anything about it, just as the war against Hell had no interest for him. In fact, he had apposed Castiel's involvement in it. But Cas was stubborn, annoyingly so at times, and had disregarded Gabriel's warnings to instead do the "right thing". At this point, Gabriel didn't know if letting Castiel go had been the best thing or not. Hell had opened his eyes, but it had also hurt him greatly. He might never trust anyone ever again.
"It is the only part of the Winchesters I have left." Castiel said in a voice that was only two steps above a whisper, "I want to remember them and what I learned from them."
"That's fine," Gabriel leaned back, propping himself up with one hand on the floor as the other flourished a lollipop into existence, "Just don't sulk around here doing nothing, it's not healthy."
"There is nothing left for me to do." Castiel grunted, dropping his gaze to the floor, "I will not go back to that pointless war and I have always been a soldier. I don't know how to do anything."
"Do anything you want." Gabriel said around the candy in his mouth and Castiel looked up at him sharply, "No, I'm being completely serious. Do whatever you feel like. I do." He smirked around the candy in his mouth.
There was silence for a moment and then Cas said, "I want to go back to Earth. I want to be with the Winchesters. I want to protect them."
Gabriel's shoulders slumped and he shook his head, "Sorry bro, I can't do that. And I can't just conveniently let you do that; they'd know it was me. You have to stay here."
"There is nothing up here for me, Gabriel."
"You can work for me."
The offer was light hearted, nonchalant, almost a thing said in passing like a comment about the weather but Cas tilted his head curiously to the side, brow furrowing slightly, "But you just said you do not do anything."
Gabriel paused for a moment and then bit down hard on his lollipop, break off a chunk with a sharp crack. He worked it around in his mouth for a while, chewed it, swallowed, and then stuck the candy between his teeth again before saying,
"While the majority of our dear brothers and sisters have forgotten what our purpose was supposed to be in light of the war, some of us haven't. I've got a small, merry band of angels who didn't join in the war or opposed it. We still support the humans, we still help them, answer their prayers, keep giving them light, that sort of thing." Gabriel lifted his head ever so slightly and his wings opened halfway and the short archangel suddenly seemed to be a lot bigger. There was the impression of fire and diamonds and the proud head of a great white tiger,
"We still sing the Song of the Host, Castiel. We sing it for man."
Castiel blinked and, after a slight pause, asked hesitantly, "Who joined you?"
Gabriel snorted and deflated, his puffed up chest collapsing a little as he folded his wings in and leaned one arm on his knee. He crunched down noisily on his lollipop as he spoke, "Not as many as I would have liked. Remiel, Haniel, some unnamed angels, a couple of cherubs. Oh, and Balthazar."
"Balthazar? But you…dislike him."
That drew a laugh from the archangel, "Yeah, I know. Me and Balthy have had some bad blood between us but we've been on better terms since I pushed the order to find and rescue you from Hell." A soft, honest smile crossed Gabriel's features, "He was your best friend, Castiel, of course he would do anything to help you."
Castiel dropped his gaze to the floor, head lowering, and Gabriel wondered if maybe he had pushed too many buttons as once, that all of this was too much for Cas to take in. He'd been in Hell for almost three years and then been dragged back home to nearly be crushed by the beings he had looked on as family for his entire existence. It might have been too much.
"I am not an angel anymore, Gabriel." Castiel said carefully, surprising his brother, "But nor am I a demon. I am not sure what I am but I cannot bear staying here."
"Cas, I can't—."
"I know you can't!" Castiel bit his lip and let out a frustrated huff, "I know you can't and I am not angry with you. I don't blame you in any way, Gabriel. But I don't think I'm up for singing the Song of the Host for humanity, my Grace would just not be in it."
"That's okay," Gabriel said with wide grin, sweeping himself to his feet, "I didn't think you'd want to start singing the praises of Heaven again any time soon. I've got a better position for you." He thrust out a hand, offering it to his brother, who took it tentatively and let Gabriel pull him to his feet, "We'll work this out, Cas, don't worry about."
"Big Brother Gabriel's got everything under control."