.-~*~-.
The day The Darkness was released Gabriel had been restoring Thor's home. While it hadn't been much to begin with, he had been running low on things to do to occupy his free time. If he went to Earth? If he saw the fallout from the Fallen? There was no way he could prepare himself for that.
It was better if he just… stayed in the ruins of his secondary home. Because that was better.
Okay. It really wasn't. It was grief, pain, and misery. All of it was pure, raw, torture. Every waking moment was another reminder of what he'd failed to do. If it wasn't for the Winchesters and Castiel turning the worm into a damned human he knew for a fact he would've broken his promise to himself, that he would've left Metatron to die on a damned spike for all of the world to see because he deserved no less. Except humanity was a pretty justified punishment for an asshole like him. Probably a punishment he would've given as Loki if he hadn't been emotionally invested in the situation.
But that was irrelevant. Theoretically. Everything changed for him the moment the first bell rang, then the second, then the other hundred.
All of the warning bells rang out at once.
For the first time in a very long time -because even during The Apocalypse neither had ever done it- he sensed Lucifer and Michael actively keying into angel radio. It was just a fraction of a moment, but it happened. All three of them did, and each reaction was completely different. Michael's reaction something resembling a deranged whimper of fear, Lucifer making a delighted sound that absolutely meant nothing good for anyone, and his own shout of panic.
The Darkness. Who had been bold- no stupid enough to release her?
Winchesters.
Gabriel was halfway to Earth for the first time since his children were slaughtered when he was intercepted by something old- and for a fraction of a second he feared the worst. Considering the years of silence, the most rational reaction was the worst case, and since she was now free?
What he didn't expect was the sight of Chuck Shurley sitting at a bar. Not just any bar, though, and not just any prophet.
If he was honest, he'd never considered it for a moment. Prophets had once been his deal, but that was a lifetime ago. Now?
Well, he had more than enough experience with warding and cloaking magic to see right through the damned charade, mask or not.
"Father." He greeted bitterly, glowering at God who turned his head with a small smile.
"Gabriel. Or is it Loki now?" The condescending dickbag asked him.
"It's fuck you, that's what it is. You-" His voice vanished and he huffed an angry breath, dropping into the seat furthest from God and snapping himself a martini.
"You should mind your tongue, Gabriel." His abandoner Father lectured him, as though he had any damned right to act as an authoritarian figure over him. Helheiml no.
After a violent glare at God his voice was returned and he was speaking, "I'm not going to do anything resembling that. You- you abandoned us. Did you see what Luci did? Metadick? And you what? Sat on your ass in a crappy bar that's not even worthy of daytime soap operas? No, I'm not going to treat you with any more respect than I was treated for running!"
"Yes, I saw. Each time it was solved." Completely missing the point, that wasn't the point. How did the creator of the universe not get the damned point?
"Barely! And with bigger repercussions each time! Christ, you're God."
"Yes, I am." His Father responded with a dark look. "Which is something you would do well to remember.
"Or what? You'll smite me? Throw me in the Cage with Mikey and Luci? Come on. Same story over and over again. You have no new tricks up your sleeves. Haven't in a long time. So get to it, pops! What's the deal, why'd you bail on Heaven? What's your sob story?"
"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I want to know exactly why you left. I want to know the whole story."
"You're God." He reminded him bitterly.
"No, my name is Chuck, and call me a curious writer rather than God."
"Ugh. Even your personas are crap. Shitty names, crap stories. Fine, though. I bailed after you left because-"
"No, Gabriel. I want the full story."
Grinding his teeth together he glared at his Father. "You left. Michael and Raphael were dull, arrogant, assholes, and Luci was gone. I could've played with the fledglings but they just weren't able to keep up with my exuberant personality. Happy?"
"Not really."
"Well too bad."
"Why the Pagans, Gabriel? Of all of the things on Earth you could have done, you chose Pagans. You possessed Loki."
"It was my silent way of telling you to fuck off." Gabriel responded with more honesty than he'd planned. "Of all the places you chose on Earth, you became… Chuck Shurley, Raphael's prophet. Not even a very good one. You know you're a crap writer, right?"
"I wrote the world's biggest bestseller." He disregarded the insult entirely. "So that's it? You went to the Pagans because you wanted to become a god to spite me. That's… pretty simple."
"What did you expect?"
"That you were escaping the confines of Heaven in favor of debauchery and killing. I thought you were following Lucifer in the only way you could without Falling."
"Yeah, well you were wrong. Considering the fact that you created everything, you really don't get it, do you?"
"Get what?"
"People, God." He responded with a roll of his eyes. "You created all of us, everything here, and you just don't get it. Every action has a chain reaction. Every person, and thing. They feel, they hurt, and they suffer. When you went off to the store for cigarettes and never came back? There are repercussions! I don't care if you're God, you need to live up to it!"
"That's not what we're discussing." Man, did that response piss him off too. Why had he missed the bastard? Oh, right. His father. Damn.
"So, what am I here for? I'm not in the mood for being strung along. Say it and I'll be on my merry little way."
"You're going to help them." The moment the words left God's lips anger flared in his grace. Was he serious right now?
"Says you?" In truth, that had been the plans but now that he was being told to by his absent Father? The idea was less appealing. Winchesters broke the world and cleaned their messes up all the time. They could deal with Amara. In theory.
"Yes, Gabriel." Chuck responded firmly and his lip curled.
"No. Not just no, hell no. I'm not playing your little game. Games are my thing. Shit endings are yours." He bit out angrily, shoving out of his seat.
"It depends on the interpretation of the ending, Gabriel. You can't please everyone."
"Yeah I know. Your occult following has made that blatantly clear. The fact of the matter is that I'm not doing it. I'm not playing your game. I'm not- no. Throw me in the Cage if you don't like it. I'm not doing it."
With a single, firm, look his Father brought a glass to his lips. "Then I guess we're done here." Chuck responded coolly.
"That's it?"
"Free will exists for a reason, Gabriel. I can't force you, though I am asking."
"You aren't helping them." Gabriel reminded his Father before he was sent away in a rush of energy.
When he landed, he was in Helheiml and pissed. Especially when he sensed the cracks in the Cage.
Winchesters.
Lucifer's probing grace was reaching through the cracks now and it sent a violent shiver down his spine. Fear.
"Gabriel." Lucifer hummed from behind the bars and he fluttered off before either of his siblings could speak another word.
.-~-.
The moment Gabriel heard Michael escape the Cage, he abandoned his hideout in Helheim to fly straight into Heaven, slipping past angels and souls with almost no effort. Completely hidden. All he could hope was that the Winchesters weren't stupid enough to let Lucifer out too. Lucifer could be convincing, but not that convincing… hopefully.
Michael was curled in a ball in the back of his room and a very wary Brendiel was hovering at the front wall when he arrived.
"Does anyone else know?" He demanded of the seraph who stared at him with wide eyes. Shock, fear, and admiration resonated from her and Gabriel could almost feel how much restraint she was using against hugging him.
"You were dead…"
"It goes around. Answer the question."
"I- no. I just happened to be nearby. We're mobilizing to smite Amara. Gabriel-"
"It's a stupid idea. Now go. You saw nothing, heard nothing. Is that clear?"
"Gabriel-"
"Is that clear?" He demanded and Brendiel curtseyed almost ironically in her male vessel before taking off down the hallway. Gabriel slipped inside without another word before he threw up warding on the walls and floors.
"Michael." He spoke softly and his brother's head whipped up, bug-eyed and fearful.
"Lucifer- I, no I wasn't trying to escape! Please don't-"
"I'm not-"
"I'm sorry!"
Gabriel's stomach twisted uncomfortably as he realized a horrible, terrible truth. Michael wasn't talking to him. The closer he looked without daring a step towards the other -much more powerful- archangel, the more he saw and the more his heart broke. Adam Milligan was in pieces, demonized and tortured beyond demonization. Adam Milligan was… well he wasn't. Adam Milligan no longer existed, his soul was an empty shell of whatever had once been there. No one deserved something like that, but there it was.
Michael, though? Michael was in… horrible shape. It was more than obvious that the Michael he knew, the arrogant, self-absorbed, self-righteous dick? That had been beat out of him. Wiped from him and replaced with a shaky, horrified mess of a person. Someone that Gabriel didn't know, someone he feared more than anything else. Michael in that state? That Michael was dangerous, to anyone and everyone. Yet, there was something else.
This Michael, this dangerous, broken archangel. He was someone he… pitied.
"Lucifer, please…" Michael sobbed out, curling back into a ball and burying his face in his knees. "Please don't."
God, he hated Michael. He hated his brother so much. Michael was an arrogant, self-righteous asshole. But… He was also his big brother, and no one deserved what he went through. No one deserved to suffer from Lucifer's hatred, his anger. Not for as long as they'd been in the Cage.
Not even Michael. Quietly, he stepped forward and knelt down, pressing a hand against his brother's shoulder as Michael jerked away from the contact with a panicked cry. "Michael." Gabriel said quietly. "Can you hear me? It's Gabriel. It's your baby brother."
"Please…"
"I'm going to end this." Gabriel continued softly, summoning his archangel blade. "I'm going to save you. Do you understand me?"
"Lucifer- just… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
His eyes burned a bit as he fought back the wave of pain and nausea that he was feeling. Back in the day, he could've done this easy. Back then, Michael had deserved it. Now, though? It was a mercy killing. It was justified, but it still made him want to run in the other direction. This wasn't right, it wasn't fair, and still he had to do it. He was the only one that was anywhere near capable of it. "I'm sorry, Michael." Gabriel said quietly as he gripped his brother's shoulder, shoving him down onto his back before he drove his blade into his brother's chest.
Michael didn't scream, he didn't make a sound. A gasp, a bright flash of grace exploded throughout the room, and then it was over.
Michael was dead.
Gabriel didn't dare cry, he didn't make a sound. All he could do was stare at the sight of Michael's corpse on the ground and force himself to mobilize, to lift the body of Michael and take him away from there. Out of Heaven.
A little while later, he was burning the body of Adam Milligan at a hunter's pyre. It wasn't sentimentality, it was just… the concept that made him do it. Adam Milligan had died a horrible death, and he deserved a hunter's funeral.
.-~-.
Two little archangels, cold and alone. One in a cage, and one with no home.
~-.-~