Sorry for the shoddy, short chapter with barely any decent content, it's finals and I've got a boatload of work to do. Hope this keeps you guys sated until I can get back on this thing again. (runs off to bury herself in homework again)

One Wing in the Fire (14)

Gabriel was an ass.

A well meaning ass but an ass all the same.

Castiel knew there were far worse tasks he could be doing—sorting the piles of paperwork that Gabriel had tendency to let build up, for one—but tending to the fledglings was either extremely busy or extremely dull.

Fledglings were newly created angels; they were tiny, humanoid babies with tiny, downy wings on their backs. They grew quickly, going from infants to young adults (in human years, the late teens or early twenties) in a manner of months, but they were a riot when they were stirred up. The worst were the fledglings who had grown enough to walk and talk or the fledglings just on the cusp of adulthood trying to learn how to use their wings.

Gabriel had placed Castiel in charge of a group right in the middle. They were young enough that their wings were just staring to shed their downy quality but were old enough to understand the more complex aspects of life.

Such as the fact that Castiel's black wings were very unnatural.

He was on the job with Anael and Remiel and while Remiel was friendly enough towards him (though that might have been because he was working within Gabriel's little group), Anael was downright cold. Castiel, for his part, did his best to ignore both of them and go about his duties. But it was hard. Anael made it a point to send him at least two cold glares a day and Remiel crowded into his personal space when he was around. And that wasn't even mentioning the fledglings.

"Castiel," A small fist grabbed a handful of his feathers and brought Cas to a standstill. He looked down and saw a girl with messy white wings staring up at him with a slight frown on her features, "Why are your wings black? No other angel has black wings. Tyriel says it's because you're being punished because you did something bad. Did you kill someone, Castiel, are you being punished?"

Cas thought very carefully about how he was going to answer that. Michael had never said it out loud but Castiel got the impression that the archangel did not want Castiel telling everyone about his time spent in Hell. So he simply looked down at the fledgling angel and said,

"Yes, I am being punished. But it is not for the reasons you think."

And he gently tugged his wing from her grip and swept away to break up a squabble across the room.

It was easy to break up fights between fledglings but Castiel loathed to do it. The aftermath usually entailed making the fledglings touch one another with their Grace to create a stronger brotherly bond and discourage further fighting. It sickened Castiel. It was almost brainwashing. Still, he did as he was ordered and grabbed the backs of the two fledglings' robes, pulling them easily apart,

"That is enough. What happened? Why are you fighting?"

"Zariel said my wings are stupid!" A boy with the cream and pinkish wings of a cherub pouted.

"They are!" Snapped the other, presumably Zariel, whose silver wings were still more down than actual feathers.

"No one's wings are stupid." Castiel said flatly, crouching down and spreading his own black ones to encompass them all. The fledglings gaped at the ebony feathers surrounding them and then looked at one another again, apparently comparing their wings to Cas'.

"Are you going to fight again?" He asked after a silent moment or two.

"No, Castiel." They answered in unison.

"Good," Cas straightened and folded his wings behind him again, "And Zariel, before you begin to insult others, perhaps you should learn to tie your robe properly."

The fledgling cherub giggled and Zariel's face turned red, "But you don't even wear a robe!" He pointed out, tiny fingers fumbling with the notes on his clothes.

It was true enough. Castiel couldn't bring himself to don the robes of his brothers and sisters again. He had instead opted for a gray tunic and dark cloth pants, leaving his feet bare, and wore his buckled trench coat over the whole thing. He received many a scornful look for the ensemble but, like everything else, he chose to ignore it.

As for the fledglings, he simply gave them both equally cold looks in order to discourage any further questions and moved away. He was tired, though he would never admit it. He was tired, and hurt, and maybe a little angry and everything he did was beginning to feel pointless and empty. He put on a façade for Gabriel, not wanting to hurt his brother's feelings, but the Winchesters had been Castiel's project—his family—and to simply abandon them, not knowing whether they were alive or not, hurt more than he realized. They were fire, yes, but they had been a warm, comforting fire as opposed to Heaven's cold, stark white light.

And Castiel ached to think that they were dead because of him.

"Hey Cassie, what're you up to?"

"Hello Balthazar." Castiel did not look up when he heard the other angel approach. He was standing on the edge of a marble and pearl and silver balcony, his hands resting easily on the railing, his black wings half folded at his back.

"So," The white winged angel sauntered up beside Castiel and leaned against the railing as nonchalantly as you please, "I heard Gabriel roped you into our little rebellion."

"Gabriel did not rope me into anything." Cas replied flatly, "He is my only friend here."

"Oh? And where does that leave me?"

There was a flicker of those blue eyes in Balthazar's direction before Castiel dropped his gaze to the clouds swirling below the balcony again, "You are my friend as well."

Balthazar smirked and the two stood in silence for a while. After a moment or two, the other angel raised his hand and brushed his fingertips along the edge of Castiel's wing. Cas twitched and pulled his wings in tightly against his back. Balthazar dropped his hand, looking a little hurt, and returned his attention to the clouds below,

"What are you doing up here, Castiel?"

"I am looking for them."

"Ah. The Winchesters."

Cas didn't answer, he didn't need to. Balthazar sighed and propped his chin in his hand, ruffling his snow white wings as his feathers bristled, "I've heard something about them."

Castiel looked up sharply, staring at the other angel, silently urging him to continue. When he just kept staring out at the clouds, Cas huffed and his wings flapped once, lightly, "Balthazar." He said warningly.

"I heard they were being hunted." At Cas' sharp intake of breath, Balthazar straightened up and turned to him, "Really Cassie, what did you expect? Heaven's hunting them down to kill them. Hell's hunting them down because they want them back. They're want—what are you doing?"

For Cas had put on foot up on the gold and pearl railing and was apparently attempting to climb up on it. He did not look at Balthazar when the other angel voiced his question, simply said in a perfectly flat tone, "I am going to fall."

"No!" Balthazar grabbed Castiel's arm and yanked him back, "Castiel, falling is not the answer!"

Castiel struggled against Balthazar's grip, teetering on the edge of the railing. His wings flapped, the tips of his feathers battering at the other angel's arms and face. Balthazar brought his other hand up and grabbed Castiel's arm, flaring his own wings and beating them as hard as he could. Balthazar had the upper hand; Castiel wasn't balanced very well on the railing and he tipped over, falling on top of Balthazar so that they both slammed into the marble floor with yelps of pain and a flurry of feathers.

"Let go of me!" Cas snapped, trying to shove Balthazar off of him.

"No." Balthazar growled, "You're not thinking straight, Cas. You're hurt and you're tired and you're angry. You've been betrayed by the people you consider your family, your Grace has been violated, and the only people who can help you up here are me and Gabriel." The white winged angel leaned in close and said in a low voice, "But if you fall, if you jump off that railing, Cas, then we can't do anything to help you."

"I don't need your help." Castiel said flatly, glaring angrily at his friend.

Balthazar's shoulders slumped and he sat back, "Cassie, Cassie, you're doing it all wrong again, just like when we were fledglings. Stop being a stubborn moron trying to do things by yourself and let us help you. Contrary to popular belief, I'm more than a thieving smartass and Gabriel's more than a trickster with a candy fetish! We're working on it, Cas, you just have to give us a little more time."

"Working on it?" Castiel relaxed, taken aback both by Balthazar's words and by the honesty in the angel's face, "Working on what?"

His friend stood up, fanning his wings, and held his hand out, helping Cas to his feet, "We're keeping it as quiet as possible. I'm tired of seeing you mope around like a lost puppy—."

"I do not mope around."

"—and so is Gabriel." Balthazar wrapped an arm around Castiel's shoulders and steered him back into the building, his white wings affectionately brushing against Cas' black ones, reassuring him. When he spoke again, it was a low tone barely above a whisper, "We're working on a way to get you back down to Earth, to get you back to the brothers. And we think we've almost got it. But you have to trust us, Cas, just wait a little bit longer."

Cas was reluctant trust anyone in Heaven ever again but Balthazar had been his friend for many, many years, had fought beside him against Hell, and he gotten him out of more sticky situations than Gabriel had gotten him into. Still, he couldn't find any words to adequately describe his feelings so he simply nodded. Balthazar beamed, clapped him on the shoulder, and proceeded to eloquently gripe about the paperwork that Gabriel let pile up and how he was tired of sorting through it all.

To anyone passing by, they would have seen Balthazar's over exaggerated gestures, his many eye rolls, his annoyed drawl, and would have assumed that those things were the cause of Castiel's sudden, tiny, barely-there-at-all smile.

Which was probably for the best.