A/Ns: Me: [*playing VR mini-golf at 12:15 in the morning*] Whelp, I think I'm all set with the Castiel part. Thanks for the story help. Now, off to write!
Forestpelt: [*Also playing putt putt and kicking my ass*] Are you gonna post a chapter tomorrow?
Me: O.O Oh f***!
Chapter Warnings: SO. This chapter might have a little *cough* less editing than normal *cough cough*. Shorter chapter as well, but it's all Castiel! That's right, you heard me, and ENTIRE CHAPTER of our favorite angel. And it only took… um… 123 chapters to pull it off? [*headdesk*]
Chapter References: Last time on the Gabe and Cas show! Gabriel commented on Cas's messed up grace and refused to let her put Angela into a memory loop, saying she'd just mess it up with her current state. The last we saw of Gabriel, he had received a prayer from Dean (saying they were giving up) and told Castiel he'd be right back, he just had to see a man about an Apocalypse.
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The Road So Far (This Time Around)
Season 2: Chapter 91
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Castiel was, admittedly, bored of staring at the large expanse of black, empty television screen in front of her. And it had taken a lot of staring before she'd been willing to admit that, stoic warrior that she was. She could turn her head, as only her chest and arms were affixed to the chair, but the rest of Gabriel's dwelling, at least what she could see of it, left little more to stare at.
It had been almost a full day since she had last seen her brother.
Castiel was unsure what Gabriel intended to do with the Winchesters, but considering his firm stance on the Apocalypse to come… it was not something Castiel could allow to come to pass. Unfortunately, there was little she could currently do to stop her brother.
Gabriel had not been completely wrong about the state of her grace, though he certainly had exaggerated parts of the diagnosis (for what Castiel could only assume was the dramatics of it all) (or so Angela would surely suggest, were her consciousness with him at the moment). While almost fully recovered from the Prince's trap – as much as it would ever be, at least – the physical appearance of Castiel's grace was… disagreeable.
Had another angel assisted with the healing, those cracks may have closed over with time, mending in appearance, though not strength. That was unlikely to ever fully recover, unfortunately. Like an old wound, Castiel would carry the evidence of the injury for the rest of her existence. Healed but never gone.
It was not much of a concern to her. Her grace was functional with or without scars. However, a healer would have performed a much better… cosmetic repair, Castiel reasoned. Patching the cracks had not been as important to her at the time as mending the grace. Gabriel's taunts, while annoying, were inconsequential. Nothing was more important than Castiel's mission to assist the Winchesters in averting the Apocalypse.
None of them were likely to come through such a task unscathed.
Of course, sending Angela into a loop of her own memories would hardly have been taxing. Gabriel was a ridiculous exaggerator Though, Castiel supposed, if she had been staring at a brother with recently fractured grace, messily mended by an amateur's hand, she too might be concerned. Perhaps not so… vocally, of course. But damage that severe was uncommon among angels, certainly not in the last several millennia. Not since the Fall, Castiel supposed.
Gabriel likely hadn't seen evidence of such trauma in a sibling since it had been Lucifer and Michael doing the damage.
The smaller angel decided the current train of thought was unproductive towards escaping and stowed it away for later contemplation. While placing Angela into a memory loop was well within the limits of her mended grace's abilities, breaking free of Gabriel's hold was not. She had attempted several times since the onset of her captivity, though those attempts had been strategically half-hearted. Mere tests against the limitations of her brother's restraints.
Limitations that were, unfortunately for Castiel, not within her restrained reach.
Realistically, as much as Castiel did not want to admit it, Gabriel's power was beyond her strength, restrained or free. A Power had no chance against an Archangel in any situation.
Still, that was no reason not to find a way. Castiel closed her eyes and put her not-inconsiderable strategic resources to work forming a plan. One that would not require her grace to break her out of her confines. Which, very unfortunately, meant relying on guile. Castiel tried not to feel as utterly hopeless about that as she very well knew she was.
She hadn't gotten far – certainly not as far along as she had hoped to be – when Gabriel came back. Unlike the previous times he had disappeared and reappeared in the apartment, this time the archangel came back through the front door. The Jack Russell Terrier the archangel kept for a pet was yipping happily at the return of his master, tail wagging as he pranced about Gabriel's legs.
The archangel paid him no mind, however, instead heading directly for the bound angel. His expression was grim, bordering on restrained fury, and Castiel immediately tried to withdraw from the approaching wrath.
A hand curled around the back of her chair and she was yanked off balance, tilted onto the back two legs.
"What have you done with the Winchesters?" she tried to ask, fearful of what an enraged archangel could have done to her charges. What came out, however, was a muffled, unintelligible mess of tangled sounds bound by tape.
"I'm so not in the mood," Gabriel growled as he dragged the chair and the angel bound to it across the floor towards the front door. Waving an arm, the coat closet beside the entryway flew open and he tossed both chair and sibling inside. The duo tilted dangerously to one side, given he'd spun her about so she faced him, before righting in a wobble on all four legs. "So shut it."
He slammed the closet door in the face of a bewildered Castiel, who was cast into the confines of darkness and several musty-smelling jackets.
She heard Gabriel muttering angrily to himself on the other side of the closet door for several minutes. His voice was too low and too muffled by the wood to properly hear, though she gathered he was talking to the dog. Ranting was probably a more proper term, considering the dog was not an active participant in the conversation.
Heavy footsteps passed by the closet door and Castiel straightened with expectation, but the door she heard open was not the one in front of her. It was the door to the apartment, and it slammed shut just as quickly.
The dwelling – her closet included – fell into heavy silence.
A moment passed in which Castiel, confused and uncertain as to what had led to this change of events, pondered the silence, unsure what to do next. The sound of small nails skittering across hardwood floors suggested the dog had retired to his bed by the TV. Castiel waited for several more minutes, but Gabriel did not come back.
There was no other noise or movement in the apartment for hours and, eventually, Castiel had to resign herself to waiting in the dark for the return of her brother and, hopefully, some answers.
-o-o-o-
When the closet door finally opened once more, Castiel expected her brother. Possibly wrathful (intent on releasing whatever anger remained onto his sister) or back to his falsely jovial, mischievous self (which was quite possibly worse, Castiel really wasn't sure). What she received was neither. The man standing in front of her was one she did not recognize, blinking wide, human eyes at her.
"Huh," he exclaimed rather bluntly. He had slicked-back, dark hair and a lanky, wiry frame which was covered in tight jeans, a white button up, and an ill-fitting vest. "There really is a woman in his closet. Usually Mr. Laufeyson is joking when he says stuff like that."
"You must release me," is what Castiel tried to say, though it more closely resembled, "Mff mfft rmm meef mee," which the human had very little chance of understanding.
"Sorry, Miss, but Mr. Laufyeson was very specific. I'm not supposed to talk to you." The human reached into the closet, taking a long, red leash off a hook on the wall. Gabriel's dog raced into view, yipping excitedly as he circled the human's feet. "We'll be back in a little bit."
The man closed the closet door once more, and the sound of him and the dog leaving through the front door left Castiel in stunned silence once again.
-o-o-o-
Castiel's glare when the closet door opened once more was nothing short of irate. The human had the decency to look apologetic, at the very least, as he hung the dog leash on the wall where it apparently belonged. The dog was preoccupied in the kitchen, muzzle deep in a bowl piled high with food – the contents of which were entirely inappropriate for the diet of a small canine, from what Castiel could tell – which was being devoured at an alarming rate.
"Erm… well, Mr. Laufeyson didn't say anything about keeping you in the closet, I suppose," the human offered with a weak smile that was far more of a grimace, considering the bound angel's obvious displeasure. "Let me just…"
The man dragged Castiel's chair forward by the arms. The legs of the chair scraped loudly across the hardwood floors, causing both humanoids to wince at the noise. Once out of the closet, the human turned her around and dragged her in a very similar fashion as Gabriel had, only far less easily, until she was positioned once more in front of the TV.
Castiel's protests, grievances, insistence for freedom, pleas, and threats – all equally unintelligible through the duct tape – were ignored.
"Sorry I can't untie you," the human offered in apology as he adjusted the angle of the chair, regarded the positioning of the angel, and approved of his choices with a nod. He reached for the remote, resting atop the arm of the lazy boy beside Castiel. "It's just, Mr. Laufeyson pays for me not to ask questions, and he pays well. So. Animal Planet?"
The television turned on with a click and a warm buzz. The human shuffled through channels faster than Castiel could keep track before settling on two cheetahs chasing a gazelle through wide open, golden plains.
This must be the Animal Planet, whatever that was. Castiel missed Angela Garrett fiercely in moments such as these.
"Okay, so… uh, I'll be back same time tomorrow. See you then!"
The human made his exit in quick order, leaving the bound angel and feasting dog alone once more.
-o-o-o-
The human did, indeed, return the next day at the same time. Gabriel's dog was glad to see him, for he had spent most of the morning trying to nap on the warm space provided by Castiel's thighs, meeting with little success. The third time he slipped off – entirely his own fault, as he was wont to roll in his sleep, belly to the sky – the dog had regarded her with such disdain that the angel had not been entirely surprised when he lifted his leg and urinated on her pant leg.
Displeased, of course, but not surprised.
"You know," the human said once he had cleaned up the mess and patted her leg dry the best he could with paper towels, "he'd warm up to you a lot more if you paid him some attention. He loves having his belly scratched! You could try that."
Castiel stared up at the human, wrists and chest bound to the chair, and tried her very best to ask exactly how she was supposed to do that with an irritated gaze alone. The human didn't take notice of the predicament, so she must not have done a very good job of it.
When they returned from their walk, the human asked if she needed anything – to which she muffled through another round of demands to be set free – before departing once more.
The dog jumped into her lap for attempt number four, and Castiel resigned herself once more to another twelve hours of Animal Planet. Which, it turned out, was recordings and narration about Earth's many animals, of which she already knew everything there was to know. In fact, many of the programs got details wrong, particularly about the mental and emotional capacity of many species. It was rather tiring, actually.
-o-o-o-
When the human returned on the third day, Castiel regarded him with such desperate eyes (she'd been practicing) that he relented.
"How about the movie channel?" he asked, picking up the remote with a sympathetic smile.
Castiel dropped her head, let out a sound of pure defeat, and nodded dejectedly.
-o-o-o-
Gabriel's dog, while certainly spoiled to a fault (that fault being a complete and utter disregard for obedience or respect), was not all that bad, Castiel reasoned. It was rather nice to have company, even if that company was consistently unimpressed with her presence.
They had worked out something of a compromise on the whole napping situation. Castiel would roll her feet to the tips of her shoes, decreasing the angle of her thighs and providing the dog a flatter space with which to take a nap. It was tedious, but it did seem to please the small creature. And unlike a human, Castiel could keep the position for as long a period of time as the dog deemed necessary.
It would be easier if the canine was a feline, Castiel thought during the dusk hours of the third day of Gabriel's absence. Sometimes when the dog strutted by, he would rub himself against Castiel's leg for attention. The angel did her best to return the gesture, knowing the creature sought the companionable comfort of touch, but she was limited in what she could do while bound.
A cat was far more likely to do the work itself, which would be a great relief. Cats did so love rubbing themselves against humans, as Castiel had observed on multiple occasions (and had experienced personally a handful of times across the millennia). They were neither shy about their affections, nor particularly displeased when such attention was rebuffed. Plus, they were far more appropriately sized for laps.
Yes, this would definitely be easier were Gabriel's dog to become a cat instead.
-o-o-o-
Castiel was watching a movie about a British spy who (for reasons she had not quite followed) was now participating in an international poker game, when there was noise at the front door. Surprised, for the human dog walker did not come at this time of day, the angel turned her head to the door as it swung open, revealing her brother. The archangel, who did not look his usual playful self but still rather serious, froze at the sight of his angelic house guest and less-angelic house pet.
Jack was sitting on his hunches in Castiel's lap, very much in the shape of a cat.
A significantly lengthened tail of silky black fur flicked from its place. curled about a slim, feline body, and he regarded Gabriel with slit pupils and an unblinking stare. Above him, Castiel's expression was an open book: eyes the size of saucers, eyebrows up yet somehow still void of emotion. Gabriel was certain that had there not been tape over her mouth, those lips would be ever so slightly parted and downturned in a nervous frown.
It all said, so clearly, 'I didn't do anything, I swear.'
Gabriel burst into laughter. He didn't try to hold back as it bubbled up from deep in his belly. He doubled over, one hand braced on the wall, the other on one knee. He laughed so hard he almost choked on his own mirth.
Jack jumped off Castiel's lap and, tail in the air, strutted out of the room.
"Oh, dear Dad," Gabriel straightened, wiping at his eyes. "Oh, that was brilliant."
Castiel looked like she could not decide between being worried and being annoyed. Gabe took pity on her.
"Didn't I tell you? Could have sworn I did. Jackie does that," he offered with an ear-to-ear smile, eyes still shining with mirth. He threw himself into his Lazy Boy, shoulders still shaking. Castiel's expression was leaning decidedly towards annoyance.
"He used to be a lot bigger. And a wolf! We had to downsize to fit through the apartment door." He spun the chair towards his sister with a lazy grin. "I take it you're a cat person?"
Castiel frowned, as if she didn't know what kind of person she was. Oh, right, she wasn't a person at all; she was an angel of the Lord, and they were neither dog nor cat people. Castiel settled on annoyed. Definitely annoyed.
It triggered another round of laughter from her brother.
"Ah, I needed that." Gabriel let out a deep, content sigh as his laughter settled into an occasional chuckle. He felt better than he had all this past week. Spinning about lazily, he caught sight of Castiel once more. She was entirely unamused. "Oh, right."
The archangel reached forward and ripped the tape from his sister's mouth. Once more, she didn't even flinch. Serious spoil sport.
"Sorry about the closet," Gabriel apologized mostly sincerely, head bobbing side to side. "That was a pretty dick move. I needed time to cool off. But hey, Lenny took good care of you, didn't he?"
He gestured to the fact that she was no longer in the closet. If anything, his sister looked even more annoyed. Gabriel delightfully ignored it, twirling his hand through the air, coming back with a can of pop in his grip.
"You know how I found him? He pickpocketed me. Me! Pretty good at it, too, for a kid." The archangel popped the soda, then summoned another loopty-loop straw with a quick snap. He plopped it into the can and took a long, slurping draw. He turned his head to Castiel with a Chesshire grin, straw lazily spinning in the can's small opening. "Talent like that shouldn't be wasted. Don't you agree?"
"What have you done with-"
"The Winchesters. Yes, them," Gabriel finished for her with a look. He wanted to sigh, definitely roll his eyes, and maybe put his sister back in the closet. Ultimately, though, the archangel decided he'd been cruel enough to the smaller angel. So he did none of those things and instead answered honestly. "Nothing. They called me out."
Castiel's eyebrows climbed into her hairline, blue eyes wide with… was that hope he saw? Oh brother.
"Yup. Put me in a ring of holy fire. Wonder where they got that idea." He tilted his head towards the other angel, one eyebrow raised accusingly.
"I did not reveal your identity," Castiel returned, face forcefully stoic in a way that told Gabriel she knew exactly how the Winchesters figured it out. Whether or not she'd admit it to him. When he harrumphed in reply, she pierced him with a glare. "You did not give me any opportunity."
Well, she wasn't wrong there. Which only piqued the archangel-turned-trickster's curiosity all the more. Somehow, she had found a way to tell them. Or… they'd already known. Gabriel puckered his lips as cartoonishly as possible and wrapped them around the tip of the straw. He tucked the plastic into his cheek and started chewing on it obnoxiously. He glanced at Castiel, the littlest angel that could, out of the corner of his eye.
"Is Dean Winchester from a different timeline?"
His sister hid her surprise well. Gabriel barely even caught the recoil, but catch it he did.
"Wasn't all that hard to figure out," he offered with a smirk in the corner of his mouth. "That man of yours talks a lot. Like, a lot, a lot. And that's something, coming from me."
Castiel sighed. Audibly sighed. Gabriel could barely contain his glee.
"Yes. Dean is from the future," the smaller angel confessed, avoiding her brother's gaze by staring at the TV, still playing the spy movie. Agent zero zero seven was now being tortured by the man he had beaten in the poker game. Castiel was not certain she properly understood human entertainment. In moments like this, he missed Angela. She was excellent at explaining movies in a way that made sense. Or, at the very least, made them entertaining. "A timeline from which I sent him back to avert the Apocalypse."
"Ah-ha!" Gabriel shook his head, looking far too amused for the topic of conversation. Castiel turned to stare at him. "I knew they were cheating! So Dean comes back from failing the first go around, summons you down – breaking the timeline, I might add – and convinces you – just like that – that you and him can change it."
Castiel frowned. "We can change it. We already have."
Gabriel scoffed and leveled a look at his sister that caused something inside her chest to clench uncomfortably. "Have you, now?"
She eyed him with a hint of wariness. "Yes. Not enough to avert the apocalypse, not yet. But we will."
"Well… I think you're wrong."
Castiel frowned at her brother's words, said so simply, as if there was no other option but the one he declared.
"I think you've been duped by two – admittedly persuasive, I'll give you that – human mooks. They're wrong, too, of course. What's coming is written in stone, Cassie. You should know better. But hey," Gabriel reached over to the side table next to the Lazy Boy and picked up the TV remote, "I'm nothing if not a fair guy. I'll give you a chance to prove me wrong."
With a click and a buzz, the television turned on. His sister was staring at him, that wariness growing.
"What do you mean?"
"I think Dean is going to sell his soul for his brother and jumpstart the Apocalypse, little sis," the archangel proclaimed, tone inappropriately cheerful. It irked the other angel immensely. "He couldn't manage not to in my fake reality, so I don't see him standing much chance in this one. You think he won't – by some miracle, I might add – and if he doesn't, that will fix everything! All hunky-dory."
The black screen of the television flickered to life, revealing a wet night outside a small building on the side of a country road. Neon-lit signs indicated the human dwelling provided fuel and sustenance.
"Guess we'll see who's right, huh?"
Castiel turned a slow, piercing gaze from the television set to her brother. She recognized the tangible weight pooling in her stomach as dread. "Gabriel, what did you do?"
"I got the ball rolling. Might have told a demon or two where to find the Winchesters." He held up an object, delicately pinched between two fingers. It was a hex bag: one of the Winchesters. The last of their supply, formally hidden within the safe confines of the Impala. "Pickpocketing ain't all Lenny's good for. Did you know Dean warded that car of his against angels? Sheesh. Paranoid much?"
A vehicle pulled onto screen, and Castiel took in a sharp breath at the sight of the Impala, coming to a stop outside the building. Dean Winchester climbed out of the driver's seat and the heart Castiel did not need started to beat very fast.
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A/Ns: See! A whole chapter of Cas! In… the closet…
We're doing Jane so damn proud. I think at this point even she'd be fed up with the pace of this burn ?
Okay, I know that was mostly filler, but hopefully it was entertaining filler! And necessary to set up our - wait for it – waaaaaaaaaait for it – SEASON 2 FINALE, whaaaaaaaa?! No way. You mean…. FINALLY?! Sixy whole chapters later than predicted/aniticpated/necessary?!
[Did I mention a *headdesk* yet? No? Well *HEADDESK*]
Gabriel's Dog, Jack: A reviewer asked if the name choice for Gabriel's dog (who does appear on the show in Tall Tales, but never again), was a reference to Jack Kline. It was not, actually. The dog is a Jack Russell Terrier ? It seemed right up Gabe's alley to name his dog something that was just one step above naming him "Dog". I almost, aaaaaalmost called him "Wolfie" and also hinted as to why ?ￂﾠ
Also, he shapeshifted into a cat because of all the wonderful, adorable artwork I have seen of Castiel and cats. I don't know how/when that became a thing, but it's definitely a thing. And it's adorable.
Fun Fact #121: I have figured out how to sneak Jack (Kline) into this story, at least in reference! It won't be for a while, but I'm very proud of figuring out how to wiggle something of him into the first five seasons ?
Fun Fact #808: During this chapter I learned that "loopty-loop", which I have always used to refer to a roller coaster's loop, actually comes from Loop-the-Loop, which was the name of a very early looping roller coaster!
Hope you all enjoyed! I know this one was short, especially since lately all chapters have been damn near twice as long. Next chapter is, of course, back to being that long ?. Because of course it is.
[*authors wanders off muttering different variations of the word "verbose" to herself*]
Cheers,
Silence