Chapter 12
Then:
"Don't you ever, ever presume to know what I am." The Trickster's voice, normally light and amused, is now pitched dangerously low. Dean grunts slightly, struggling to breathe against the crushing grip on his windpipe, and the Trickster smirks. "Now listen very closely. Here's what's gonna happen." He looks between Dean and Sam. "You're gonna suck it up, accept your responsibilities, and play the roles that destiny has chosen for you." On the word "destiny," he presses down on Dean's throat and Dean chokes.
"And if we don't?" Sam says quietly.
The Trickster smiles coldly. "Then you'll stay here in T.V. Land. Forever." A small chuckle leaves his lips. "Three hundred channels and, uh, nothing's on." He lifts his free hand and snaps his fingers. The motel room around us dissipates and we prepare for the next show we land in.
Except when I look around, Sam and Dean are nowhere to be found.
Now:
It's probably not a good sign that I start panicking the instant I realize Sam and Dean aren't in the dull gray room with me. For someone who's only known the Winchesters for about a month or so, I've gotten ridiculously attached to them.
"Ariel?" a familiar voice rasps and I nearly collapse in relief when I turn to see Castiel slumped against the wall.
"Cas!" I kneel beside him. "You okay?"
"My nose seems to be bleeding," he tells me and I can't help but grin at the frank statement.
"Let me see." I pull his wrist away from his nose; he'd been attempting to stem the blood flow with his sleeve. "It's okay, you're just a little banged up. Tilt your head back."
Castiel obediently does so, frowning. "I normally heal faster."
"Yeah, well, you are technically a fallen angel now."
He nods contemplatively before leaning his head back against the wall once more. "It's...disconcerting."
"I'll bet. What happened, anyway?"
"I was transported to a strange place featuring very angry men yelling that they were not the fathers of someone's child. I attempted to intervene before one man could strike the woman in question, but the audience watching did not seem bothered by the violence."
Piecing together the situation, I can't help but snort. "Obviously. You were probably on Jerry Springer or something." Poor Castiel. He'd just been trying to help, too.
"You oughta know better, Cassie, it's more fun when you don't get in the way," the Trickster says cheerfully from behind us and Castiel glowers at a point over my shoulder.
"You allowed your pawns to beat me rather than face me yourself?" His tone is dry, but his glare remains accusing. I have to hand it to Castiel; even when at his weakest, he's still pretty good at delivering verbal beatdowns.
"Please, I don't have to waste my energy on you."
"Where are Sam and Dean Winchester?" Castiel demands.
"The muttonheads? They're dealing with a fake me over on CSI: Miami. Should be busy for a while."
I finally turn to face the Trickster. "Okay, now it's my turn to ask questions."
"Is it?" The Trickster tilts his head, but there's that expression again, the one that's begging me silently to understand something beyond my control. "Sweetheart, I don't think you realize this, but I'm in charge here. Not you."
"I've been dreaming about you ever since I saw you in the park," I plunge ahead, ignoring him.
Surprise briefly flashes across his face before it melts into forced amusement. "Ain't that sweet. You're gonna make me blush, kiddo."
"You looked sad." I get to my feet as I note how his eyes widen at the observation. "Why? What do you know about me?"
And there's the sadness I'd just told him about even as he smiles tiredly. "Believe me, Ariel, you don't want to know."
"I think I do." I cross my arms stubbornly.
He rubs the back of his neck and sighs. "First things first...Castiel was right. I'm not a Trickster."
"I thought we had established that," Castiel grumbles as he gets to his feet, "Hello, Gabriel."
"Gabriel?" I look between Castiel and the Trickster - or rather, Gabriel. "The archangel?"
"Guilty." Gabriel gives me a wry smile.
"How'd you know?" I look at Castiel, who shrugs.
"Little bro can see my wings." Gabriel looks disgruntled at the thought and I try to imagine his wings. They seem like they'd be golden, for some reason.
"Well, what does that have to do with me?" I demand.
"Weren't you wondering how you were brought to this universe?" Gabriel tilts his head at me and I feel like my heart's leapt into my throat.
"You?"
"Me." Gabriel shoves his hands into his pockets. "Figured it was the least I could do, since I was the one who put you there to begin with."
"You...what?" I'm rocking the eloquency today, aren't I?
"Castiel, do you remember Ariel?" Before Castiel can raise an eyebrow and point at me, Gabriel adds, "Our sister."
"Yes. The youngest archangel. She was cast down by Michael when she-" Castiel breaks off suddenly, looking at me as if he's seeing me for the first time. "In Father's name," he murmurs, stunned.
"What?" I shuffle uncomfortably under his gaze. "You think I'm some archangel who disappeared ages ago?"
"More like I know you are." Gabriel smiles humorlessly. "You came to me when Michael cast you down. You begged me for help because Michael had called for your death for treason. I sent you to that other universe to protect you."
This all sounds so bizarre, like some plot twist out of a terrible Mary-Sue fanfiction that would earn it tons of flames. "I-I don't remember any of that."
"'Course you don't. I wiped your slate clean before I shipped you off. You were safer that way, and happier."
"Then why the hell did you bring me back?" I demand and he looks hurt.
I feel guilty for all of a second before he says carefully, "I had to." My guilt promptly disappears.
"Don't pull that crap on me." I'm surprised at the anger in my own tone. "No one makes you do anything."
"True." He quirks a humorless smile. "But when Daddy calls, even I've gotta listen."
"Our Father?" Castiel's eyes double in size and I can almost see the hope radiating off him in waves. "You've spoken to Father?"
"Drop it, Castiel." Gabriel gives him a sharp look. "Dad doesn't want to be found. He told me to bring Ariel home and then he swanned off again, just like last time."
Castiel deflates slightly, but he still looks a little relieved, as if glad that God is at least still alive.
"Just to confirm," I say, turning the angels' attention back to me, "I had wings?"
"Yep." Gabriel nods, quirking a slightly-amused smile. "Big, fluffy, gray ones. They were always tangled up in something or the other."
"'Were?'" I echo.
"They disappeared with your Grace, kiddo, and I have no idea where that landed when Michael cast you down."
"Oh," I say dumbly. Well, what else can I say to finding out I'm not actually human, after all, and instead I happen to be one of the most powerful creatures in existence? I feel like I'm going to be sick, but swallow back the nausea.
Gabriel tilts his head then, listening to something beyond my ears. "Sounds like Dean-o's given in. Catch you two later. We'll have a big family reunion." He winks at us and disappears, but not before I catch the brief flash of sorrow on his face.
I sink to the floor and Castiel kneels down beside me hesitantly.
"I'm not an archangel," I say weakly.
Castiel says quietly, "It explains the sigils on your ribs. Gabriel must have carved them there to protect you." A hysterical sound halfway between a laugh and a sob catches in my throat and Castiel looks startled. "Ariel?" He voices my name tentatively, as if I'm too good to address directly anymore, and still says it in that weird way where he stresses the -el. I guess now I know why: -el means "of God."
"I-I don't...I can't-" My voice cracks as I attempt to convey the swirling mess of confusion and agony and pain in my chest and hesitantly, Castiel places a hand on my cheek.
"Breathe." I inhale slowly, realizing that I hadn't been breathing for a while now when my chest aches at the sudden introduction of air to my lungs.
"I'm human," I insist shakily, "Just a regular, unimportant human."
"No one is unimportant," Castiel tells me and I vaguely remember that as a paraphrasing of a Doctor Who quote. The observation has me chuckling weakly again and Castiel looks mildly worried for my sanity. "Ariel?" I shake my head, burying my face in my hands in an attempt to hold back the rising tears, and suddenly, I'm being pulled forward until Castiel's arms have wrapped around me.
"C-Cas?" I stammer weakly, struggling to hold myself together. He cards his fingers through my hair silently and I lose it. I press my face against the tan material of his trenchcoat and begin to cry helplessly. I can hear Castiel murmuring reassuringly to me in a foreign language, the words almost musical in sound. "Is that Enochian?" I ask him, my voice thick with tears, and he nods against the top of my head.
"Yes." He draws back from the embrace, looking hopeful. "Did you understand what I said?" I shake my head and he looks slightly disappointed. "Oh."
"I'm sorry," I offer even as I wipe my eyes.
"No, it's all right." He pauses. "We should tell the Winchesters."
"No!" I say quickly and Castiel looks surprised.
"Ariel, they should know-"
"No, they can't. They..." What exactly is holding me back from telling them, anyway? "All they've ever known from archangels is pain," I explain at last, wringing my hands. "I...I don't want them treating me any different. Like you do already."
Castiel looks chagrined. "I apologize, sister."
"See?! That's what I'm talking about!" I point at him accusingly. "I'm not your sister! I'm not an archangel! I'm just..." Just what? Everything I'd known of what I was had been a lie. "I'm just me," I finish weakly before adding, "You can't tell anyone. Promise me." Castiel hesitates. "Cas, please."
He finally nods reluctantly. "Yes." He clasps my hand with both of his, squeezing it reverently. "I promise." I want to cry again, but swallow back the lump in my throat as I settle for hugging him tightly in gratitude. He clutches me back, pressing his cheek against the top of my head.
I feel the invisible tug that signals angel-travel and let go of Castiel just in time for both of us to appear in the warehouse the Winchesters and I had originally gone to. Gabriel is trapped in a ring of fire, looking sullen, and Sam immediately scoops me up into a tight embrace. Somehow, I don't feel as enthusiastic about returning it, given what I've just learned.
"You okay? You hurt?" Sam sets me down and starts checking me over for any injuries.
"No, I'm okay, get off." I squirm away from his touch, earning a cross between a bitchface and hurt puppy eyes.
"Cas, you okay?" Dean asks, the closest he'll get to hovering like Sam is over me.
"I'm fine." Castiel turns to the archangel trapped in the ring of fire. "Hello, Gabriel."
"Hey, bro." Gabriel's tone is deeply sarcastic. "I never did ask, how is the search for Daddy going? Let me guess. Awful." Castiel's expression becomes shuttered and newfound brother or not, I want to punch Gabriel.
"Okay, we're out of here. Come on." Dean turns on his heel and heads for the door. Squeezing my shoulder, Sam follows his brother, and Castiel and I go after them.
"Uh. Okay. Guys?" I try not to turn back and look at Gabriel as his tone becomes suddenly more nervous. "So what? Huh? You're just gonna leave me here forever?"
I stop at the doorway, as does Dean. The older Winchester turns back to glare at Gabriel.
"No. We're not, 'cause we don't screw with people the way you do. And for the record? This isn't about some prize fight between your brothers or some destiny that can't be stopped. This is about you being too afraid to stand up to your family." He pulls the fire alarm on the wall and the sprinkler system turns on, dousing the fire around Gabriel. "Don't say I never did anything for you." Dean pushes his way through the door after Sam and Castiel and I hesitate before doing the same. Gabriel watches me, a mournful expression flickering across his face.
"I can't," I answer his silent question weakly before turning and leaving the warehouse.
As I approach the Winchesters, who are quietly talking beside the Impala, I hear the tail end of Dean's sentence, "Right about now, I wish I was back in a T.V. show."
Sam quirks a wry smile. "Yeah, me, too." He squeezes my shoulder when I come to a stop next to him. "You good?"
I nod, ignoring the pointed look Castiel's giving me. "I'm good." Sam smiles and nods back, patting my shoulder once before he gets into the passenger seat. Dean's already in the driver's seat.
"Take care of yourself, Ariel," Castiel tells me quietly, squeezing my shoulder the same way Sam had before disappearing. Swallowing back the lump in my throat, I climb into the backseat of the Impala.
"So where did Gabriel send you, anyway?" Sam asks, turning to me, and I shrug.
"Cas and I just ended up in this empty room. Then we were in the warehouse again."
"The douchebag didn't say anything to you, did he?" Dean asks, glancing at me in the rearview mirror, and I shake my head after a moment's hesitation.
"No. Not a thing."
"You sure you're okay?" Sam frowns at me. "You look a little pale."
"I'm okay," I insist and, changing the subject, ask, "So what did he do to you after the sitcom?"
The topic is welcome, apparently, as Dean launches into an angry retelling of their side of the story. Sam still watches me worriedly the entire time, but I nod and ask Dean enough questions to reassure him that I'm okay, even if I feel like my entire world's crashing down on me.
-prepares for the flames that normally accompany this kind of plot twist-