#anyways gabriel keeps trying to make raphael smile that's the post | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

twiceasfrustrating · 3 years

Text

Absolutely Nothing

I said I wouldn't post my new fic until after SWBQ is done, but I want to begin posting it before S4 drops. It won't update consistently atm, but it's there... I will only be posting the first two chapters to Tumblr. Everything else is going on AO3 because Tumblr is not longfic friendly.

Rating: Teen and Up

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Category: Gen

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!

Characters: Main Character, Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor, Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, Luke, Solomon, Michael, Raphael, Uriel, Original Angel Character(s)

Additional Tags: Other Additional Tags to Be Added, War, Trauma, Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Canon is like a vampire, it can't enter this house unless I let it, Emotional Baggage, Lies, Manipulation, Ships not intended but I'm not stopping you

Summary: War is not unknown to the three realms, but that does not make them any less a tragedy of strategy. Though relations between the three have never been favorable, they have never truly gone to battle with each other. At least, not until now. The heavens have been planning for a long time and have finally decided to execute their machinations. Now it is time to see how every piece will play out this bloody battle.

A/N: These tags are for the overarching fic, not the first two chapters. Only Lucifer, Simeon, Micheal, and Gabriel show up in the first two chapters.

Chapter 1: I Will Not Go With You

“We’re heading for a war,” Lucifer warned, “and I want you to come with me.”

Simeon solemnly blinked a few times before closing his eyes. The weight of the choices laid before him pricked at the edges of his mind. He’d known this was coming. He’d known for a long time that this question would eventually be asked of him and for just as long he’d known what his answer would be, “I must decline.”

“Why?” Lucifer spat out, “Simeon, you have to know what’s about to happen. If we don’t fight then Lilith-”

“I am not stopping you from this rebellion.” He opened his eyes and looked to the pages stacked neatly in the corner of his desk, carefully flipping through the avalanche of writings he’d collected over the years. Somewhere, buried deep in the pile, he vaguely recalled his moment; where his brother would ask him to do the impossible. He’d hidden it away from prying eyes, afraid that others would find it and interpret it as he had. Though, even if they had read it and understood what the contents were, it was nigh impossible to change the events that were foretold.

He pulled the page from the pile, taking care so the others above it would not collapse onto the delicately inlaid wood of his desk, and perused the contents held within. The paper was so old that it had begun to grow fragile to the touch and discolor at the edges. Simeon desperately wished that time had chosen not to show its touch on this particular relic he would rather have forgotten about. It was frightening how long he’d known about this day and he would rather pretend he was shocked when Lucifer had come to him. Sometimes, having a glimpse into what would eventually be was a cruel reality.

That brother, who would come in need of his fellow, will find no quarter. So shall he return with hands left empty, but convictions emboldened by the forge of his stature. He shall take with him those who share his resolve and lead them to where metal sings and cries. Blood shall be shed but on one side, though the cost of the blood spilled shall

It was an old, short paragraph he wished he could forget. Though he could never truly put it out of his mind, because he knew it was left unfinished and his mind and pen longed to see the end of the story. However, his heart and will would prefer not to know every detail of this particular future. For so long, he’d clung to that final shall and hoped that not knowing the entirety of the story would somehow keep it from unfolding. However, his pen only put the stories to page. He was not responsible for the events that inspired him to write.

“You will have to make do with those who are already on your side. No one else will turn their back on Father for your cause.” It was the only warning he could give. In those words he hid the message that Lucifer should tell no one else. If war was approaching, then it was better he have the element of surprise.

Lucifer could only stare at him in disbelief, “Is that your answer?”

“It always was.” He placed the paper face down atop the pile, “I cannot aid you in this, Lucifer.”

“Then you would fight against me? You would condemn Lilith in the same way as our Father?” His voice shook, the rage building inside of him clearly beginning to boil over even as he tried to contain it.

“I will not betray my family.” Simeon’s face remained unchanged as he pushed his chair away from the desk and rose to his feet. Despite the malicious aura that began to circle around his fellow Seraphim, he approached with an unguarded stance until they were only an arm’s reach away from one another. No matter how upset Lucifer may become, Simeon would not fear him. Though, he did fear *for* him, “You and she are still of my kind and that means I will not meet you on the battlefield.”

Lucifer’s eyes widened at the declaration. This time, it was his turn to fear for the other, “You can’t stay out of this. You know they won’t allow you.” If he did try to remain on the sidelines, Simeon would still be seen as a traitor. Not in the same vein as him and his siblings, but a traitor nonetheless, “I won’t ask you to fight if you really refuse to lift your blade, but you can’t stay here.”

“As much as you and Lilith are my family, so are Micheal, Raphael, Uriel, and Gabriel. I cannot leave them.”

“Simeon…”

Simeon’s lips pulled back into a smile and he let out the shortest of laughs, “You worry far too much, Lucy. You are aware that I am still a Seraphim, are you not? Even if I do not step onto the battlefield, I do not believe I am in nearly as much danger as you are putting yourself in.” He wanted to reach out and touch his brother one last time as the fear of the unknown overtook him, but he kept his hand within his own space. He did not know what would happen at the end of all of this, but he knew it would not be the same and reaching out to hold onto what they had would only pain them both.

Lucifer looked over the other angel’s shoulder, toward the pile of papers where Simeon had placed one face down. Countless writings that revealed the future to their author and Lucifer did not envy that gift. Others often wished to know what would be, but he had seen far too many times the burden placed on Simeon for having such a skill; the amount of times he had been made to see both grace and tragedy was carved on his face, just behind that smile. That is why, despite knowing that whatever was on that page was related to this very discussion and his ultimate goal, he would not pry. It was not as if knowing the future allowed it to be changed anyway.

“We’ll still be on opposing sides, you know?” No matter how much Simeon proclaimed not to betray his family, that was an unavoidable truth.

He nodded, “I am aware.”

“And you refuse to go against your family?”

This time his confirmation was wordless.

Lucifer took in a deep breath, “Then once the battle begins, I believe we can hardly be considered family anymore.”

Large blue eyes shot up to look at his pale face. It seemed that Lucifer had said something Simeon hadn’t expected, “What?”

“You will not betray your family, but you know they will not allow you to remain neutral in this. As soon as the drums of war beat, it is fine to stop thinking of me as your brother.”

There was a long moment of silence before Simeon could reply, “You cannot ask me that.”

“I am not asking. I am stating a truth,” one that would hopefully allow Simeon a way to follow his morals and gain some leniency if he continued to insist on this path, “I refuse to be your brother from that moment on.”

“Please... you cannot ask that of me.”

“I am not asking anything of you. I am simply stating where we will stand.” And now he needed to leave before the hurt welling in Simeon’s eyes tugged at his heart anymore and shattered his resolve.

He dipped his head in a polite bow, “Thank you for your time, Simeon. I do hope we may speak like this again.” He turned on his heels, refusing to truly look at the other angel again. His only goal was the door, where he opened it wide and stepped through the threshold.

“Lucifer! Wait!”

It took far more will than Lucifer would ever care to admit as he shut the door behind him without saying another word, and even more to walk away.

-----------------------

Chapter 2: Traitor

“How long have you known?” Micheal nearly growled as he stared down Simeon where he kneeled. His pale blue eyes ran wild with rage and it was clear he was just barely holding himself together. That was to be expected after everything he had just been through. Lucifer was unapologetically his favorite brother so it was unimaginable the distress he was in right now as he came to terms with having lost a member of his family. They had been like two halves of a whole, and now they were fractured.

“How long have I known what?” Simeon asked, feigning ignorance.

“That Lucifer would lead a rebellion against Father!” Micheal’s voice raised so loud that the room literally shook around him.

“Calm yourself, Micheal,” a melodious voice shushed him and lithe hands rested on his shoulders to hold him steady, “We’ve lost enough of our siblings today. There is no reason to lose yourself and risk losing another.”

“You would call him our brother after that disgraceful scene, Gabriel?” The disgust in his voice was clear and overwhelming, “He knew this would happen and refused to warn us or lift a finger. Everything we lost today is because of him.” Simeon had to know about today. He was blessed with the gift of prophecy and spent his time writing what was to come. If he had simply shared whatever he knew about today, Micheal knows they could have prevented the rebellion. He knows that he could have convinced Lucifer to stay somehow. Instead, he was left to face his own brother on the battlefield. He could still recall the cold eyes Lucifer had looked at him with as if they barely knew one another. That sight would never leave the darkest parts of his mind.

“You are blinded by your pain, Micheal.” She removed her hand from his shoulders and moved to stand over Simeon, “He is clearly as much our brother as ever. If he were against us he would have joined Lucifer, but Father has deemed that he is still worthy of his halo. Is that not enough for you?”

Micheal chuckled darkly before answering, “Uriel nearly lost an arm and he’s one of the lucky ones.” Even with so few numbers on their side, the rebellion had a gifted Dominion that made the most of their small force.

“And everyone harmed will heal, but we gain nothing in dividing ourselves further, and our brother has already been punished for his transgressions.” She took a knee before Simeon, reaching out her hand and running her fingers through his silken hair, “Will you not put our brother’s worries at ease, Simeon?”

Simeon knew the threat in those words. As kind as Gabriel pretended to be, she was someone he feared far more than Micheal. Not because she was stronger, but because she knew exactly how to most hurt those who upset her. As such, he had no interest in declining her wish, even if what she was asking for was for him to show his shame.

He took a deep breath before unfurling his wings behind him. They shimmered golden in the neverending light of the Celestial Realm, a blessing bestowed upon him by their Father that reflected his very essence. Every angel had such a blessing; different colors, shapes, a range of sizes, and lays of their feathers all differed from angel to angel all dependent on their Father’s grace. That included how high in their Father’s favor they were, and it was obvious at a glance just how out of favor Simeon had fallen. His six beautiful wings, the blessing afforded to all Seraphim, had been reduced to a simple two.

Gabriel’s eyes filled with pity for him but Micheal’s face twisted in glee and disdain, “Is that all? You betray us and all Father does is reduce your rank.” The laugh that left his throat was so dry that it sounded like it hurt, “You must really be beloved to get off with such a light sentence.” If it was up to Micheal himself, Simeon would face the same punishment as Lilith.

“Still your anger, Micheal. As you can see, Father has spoken.” She raised to her feet once more, her nails pulling painfully at Simeon’s hair as she stepped away from him, “Simeon is still of our kind and as one of our subordinates it is our duty to shepherd him.”

A wicked smile crossed Micheal’s face as he continued to look down on Simeon and his now unsightly form that marked his betrayal, “You may be correct, Gabriel. It is only right that we guide lost sheep, especially those of our own flock.”

#obey me #Absolutely Nothing #mine #obey me simeon #obey me lucifer #hosted on AO3 #obey me michael #obey me raphael #original character

36 notes · View notes

dessarious · 4 years

Text

Misconceptions, Miscommunication, and Misinformation Pt67

Inspired by @ozmav Maribat AU

AO3 Beginning Previous Next

“How many times?” Ladybug could see the strain on Viperion’s face and guilt ate at her. This was a big part of why she’d stopped using him unless absolutely necessary. The mental toll it had to take on him to see them all injured or dead and be the only one to remember was a heavy burden and she didn’t like that it fell to Luka of all people. He gave her a reassuring smile.

“Twelve so far, but I think we’re close. He’s only got so many tricks and we’re weeding them out quickly.” For all he sounded positive and upbeat she could still hear a rawness under the words. Anyone else would miss it, though given the way Damian was side eyeing him, he heard it too. Given the way the snake holder was looking at Discorde she could guess which of the four of them had taken the brunt of the damage.

“Your plan is obviously not working. We should retreat and come up with something better now that we have more data.” She managed to keep from rolling her eyes at Damian, but only barely. Leaving now was one of the worst things they could do.

“We have data about the here and now but that will be worse than useless if we leave now Raphael.” He frowned at the name but she just grinned at him. He’d point blank refused to pick a name so she’d gone with the surliest of the turtles she knew. He didn’t understand the reference and that just made it funnier. “If we stop learning new things and still can’t find a way to defeat him then, and only then, will we leave. The man is too desperate for us to give him time to act without terrible consequences.” He didn’t look happy but he did stay silent. They didn’t have much time to plan before they had to go back in. Luka’s timer currently gave them about half an hour for each attempt and they couldn’t afford to waste too much time arguing.

Damian’s transformation was interesting to say the least. His suit was a dark forest green with overlapping armored plates. His shield was larger than Carapace’s had been and had far more utility. The top was more squared off and the rim could detach into two boomerangs allowing him to fight in a ranged capacity while still defending. The rest of the shield could also be split down the middle so he could block attacks from two different directions at once as well as use them to ram enemies. She wasn’t surprised that his transformation was so much more combat oriented than Wayzz normally did.

“Red Robin, plan sea green with rooftop access.” Viperion went straight into reporting mode and she heard Tim muttering while trying to pull up one of his many contingencies.

“Are you sure? If I don’t that you won’t be able to see.” Given that He was the one that had to give Luka the name it was a less than intelligent question, but he answered anyway.

“Discorde will be able to and that’s the most important thing to begin with.We’ll go in through that hatch and drop on him. Discorde, you need to Cataclysm his cane immediately and then tell Red Robin to turn on low lighting so the rest of us can help.” Ladybug shared a frown with Damian.

“Why is the cane so important?” Viperion actually shuddered before responding.

“It houses a sword that can pierce our suits and your cure won’t fix the damage if he’s still wielding his Miraculous. I don’t know why.” She heard Discorde suck in a breath but all she felt was tired and sad.

“Nooroo’s been used improperly for too long, his will is starting to yield to Gabriel’s. If he gives up entirely there’s not telling how powerful Gabriel will become. The cane is the only weapon you’re aware of?” He just nodded and she knew that there hadn’t been time for her to give him a more detailed plan. “Okay, so Discorde goes in and disarms him and we drop in once there’s enough light that we won’t trip over each other. Raphael will put up a shield around the three of us and Gabriel with Viperion on the other side so that we have better odds taking him down.”

She could tell no one was happy with the plan. Viperion understood the necessity of keeping him out of danger, but he hated watching from the sidelines and she knew it. Damian and his brother couldn’t stand the uncertainty of it all. Discorde was close to just Cataclysming Gabriel to put an end to things, or maybe come up with something like what she did to Superman. The second might become necessary if they didn’t end this soon. Actually…

“Discorde, do you think you can come up with something for Gabriel like you did Superman? Something that will make him too weak physically to actually fight us.” She frowned and cocked her head as though listening to something.

“I can try but I’m not sure if it will work the same on another holder. Plagg gave me specific instructions on what to do for the Super Pain but I can try.” Ladybug hummed in thought before turning to Viperion.

“We’ll go in full force this time but if things go south and you have to reset again tell us to have Discorde try from inside the vent before we go after him next time.” He gave a single nod before leading them to the roof access for the vent. She took a calming breath before pulling off the cover. Time for lucky number thirteen.

AO3 Beginning Previous Next

Ko-Fi

Tag List

@noirdots @valeks-princess @chocolatecatstheron @krispydefendorpolice @bee-wrecker @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl @northernbluetongue @paradoxal-occurance @scrumptiouslyelegantchaosqueen @sonif50 @thequestionablyhuman @persephonebutkore @elspethshadow @geekydragonyt @mmwolf1605 @da-tasuky @mjisntme @bluerosette23 @anjuschiffer @littleredrobinhoodlum @tazanna-blythe @resignedcatservant @schrodingers25 @seraphichana @persephonescat @punstoppablechatnoir @magicalfirebird @crazylittlemunchkin @corabeth11 @cyborgcandy @casual-darkness @shamefullove @miraculous-simmer7 @tamoni112 @cat181818meow @littleblue5mcdork @allthebooksandcrannies @enchanted-nerd @disneyfoxuniverse @fallinginthe-void @mandy984 @goggles-mcgee @fontegagrilledcheese @dorkus-minimus @theatreandcomicfreak @zerotosiki @ayuchan07 @mindfulmagics @urbanpineapplefarmer @winter-gardenflower @mooshoon @my-name-is-michell @melicmusicmagic @7-sage-7 @hypnosharkrebeldreamer @alicesangelofmusic @caffeinetheory @nataladriana9 @multplelifes @wanderingreader1019 @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @mvaree @redscarlet95 @storyteller-d @howabouticallyou @ginamarie1512 @kurogaya913 @tbehartoo @maddrag @two-faced-biatch @senyahgirl @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @iloontjeboontje @kakashixobito @welcometopradasa @amirahevens @amlesi @miraculousbelladonna @virgil-is-a-cutie @18-fandoms-unite-08 @cupcakeandkisses @angelofmusickaterinapetrova @book-r-the-best @dur55 @moonlightstar64 @fertileleaf @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @thecaptainthunder @danielslilangel @novicevoice @nyaabinch @interobanginyourmom @welcometopradasa @charlietheepic7 @im-here-for-the-content @maya-custodios-dionach @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @starwindmaden @tired-butterfly @rogueptoridactyl @emeraldpuffguide @suzen23smith @yuulxd @animegirlweeb @alovelyocean @kris-pines04 @semaalcocer-blog @cadencehood @jardimazul @shethecat @silent-storms-posts @simplysslytherin @tog84 @thesunanditsangel @dast218 @tall-and-angry @the-alice-of-hearts @captainmac6 @theyellowfeverexperience @chrismarium @alessialeone6997 @heaven428 @tinyterror333 @smolplantmum @lilyellowink @naoryllis @katiegardneriscoolerthanyou @magewriter @doodledeerest @athena452 @peachedpocky @tired-butterfly @risingmoonyue @lunammoon @mylife-demonstrates-murphys-law @bobothyross @silvergold-swirl @loysydark @heaven428 @peachedpocky @hauntedwintersweets @awesome-starfish-and-tacos @silvergold-swirl @rosesgonerogue @castielsofficialtoothbrush @myazael @aestheticnpoetic @creator-josie @sturchling @snowstar1016 @myblacknightworld @kittycatwowmeow @midnightkaito @chylou34 @hufflejournals @indecisive-mess-named-me @uwuteamleader @sassakitty @jessigurl-design @demigodgirl20031 @freshbark @soup-served-chilling @elmokingkong @unknownvsworld @thatonegaybitchfromschool @tis-i-beanbandit @damianette-is-life @peachesbackup @nobodyw8s4evr @the-fusionist

#maribat #marinette dupen chang #Damian Wayne #bffmaridami

153 notes · View notes

ihatecoconut · 4 years

Text

Tell Me About Heaven

Also posted to AO3.

“As most humans know; in the beginning, God created Heaven and Earth. What they don’t know is before the beginning, when God created me and it was mostly just the two of us- occasionally accompanied by one who was similar to Him and balanced Him out.”

“The Darkness, right? Amara?”

“Hush, Adam. Yes, it was Amara, but she had no name back then. Nobody did.”

It was one of the times when it was just Michael and his Father, the way Michael had found he preferred. There was no time, so it was impossible to say how long he had existed, although he knew he had existed for longer than he had been called Michael- he hadn’t been Michael for very long, but Father had said it was his name, and that was now how He addressed him. The Darkness, who had become Amara at some point the same way he had become Michael, was off doing whatever she did when she wasn’t with Michael and Father, and Michael would have said that was how she spent most of her time, but he had no concept of time or most or anything aside from utter devotion to his Father.

Regardless, it was some distant point before the creation of the universe and it was just Michael and Father staring off into the nothingness that they existed in when Father told him He was planning to create more like Michael- similar to him but different, in the same as Himself and The Darkness. He told Michael they would be his ‘siblings’ and he was to raise and care for them with the same devotion He had given Michael in his youth. Michael agreed to do so without hesitation, but at that point- and for most of his existence- he would have ripped out his own wings if Father had told him to, so it could be argued that this did not mean much in the grand scheme of things relating to consent.

Michael waited patiently for the fore-mentioned siblings to arrive, eager to fulfil the only task he had been given so far and eager to do something to earn his Father’s attention, yet before Father created them, He created somewhere for all of them, and Him, to live- Heaven, He called it, and He also told Michael to call it his home. After Heaven’s creation, Amara began to visit less and less, staying away from the two of them longer than she had before. Michael did not ask Father about her, and when she had been gone for long enough that Michael struggled to call up the memory of her form, God presented him with another one like him. A small angel He said was to be called Lucifer. An angel who was to be God’s left hand while Michael was His right.

Lucifer was beautiful, more beautiful than anything Michael had ever seen, and he was tiny, at first, but grew with the nurture of Michael’s grace and Lucifer’s own grace soon became even brighter. Being presented with Lucifer was the first time- and only time for most of his existence- that Michael considered he could love any being more than his Father.

“What was the other time? Times?”

“Here,” Michael replied, not as snippy as Adam expected at being interrupted, “with you.”

After Lucifer was old enough to run about Heaven alone, or with minimal supervision- when he didn’t need Michael’s attention all the time- God came once again and presented the two of them with another tiny angel- Raphael. She was also beautiful, but the memory of the energy it had taken to raise Lucifer was probably why she didn’t inspire the same consideration of loving someone more than Father. And as he raised her, Raphael listened to Michael in ways that Lucifer had not, she did not disobey even half as much and the few times that she did were at Lucifer’s persuasion. When Michael would reflect on it, many years later, he would acknowledge that she was the easiest to raise out of every angel that ever came into being. She became interested how her grace healed at a young age and the way it swirled into Michael or Lucifer’s when she was feeling particularly strong emotions. God told Michael, once in confidence, that she would become the healer of all angels. Michael did not ask how many angels there would be, no matter how much he desired to know. Lucifer did ask. God laughed.

Gabriel was given to them before Raphael had finished growing, and he adored Lucifer on sight despite the fact that Michael was the one who cared for him and taught him how to fly. If Michael had been familiar with emotions he might have recognised that he was unhappy and slightly jealous, but God had never taught him about feelings or even hinted at their existence, so he wasn’t aware of the cause behind the pressure in his chest or how to deal with it and he trained more vigorously with his sword to make Father pleased.

“Michael? Are you still there? What happened?”

“My apologies, your brother’s soul has been taken.”

“At least it isn’t kicking around here without a body.”

“They did not even look for you.” Michael told him, and he sounded more betrayed than Adam actually felt.

“Do you want to continue with your story?”

There was still no concept of time, but if there had been, Michael would have known that the four of them had several millennia to play and do as they wished. Very often, Father would come and give them a task or two to do among the four of them- mostly creating small clusters of gas that he referred to as stars- but even that was happy and gentle. They flew around Father’s new creation- the universe and weaved in and out of each other; Gabriel particularly enjoyed trying to knock into the three of them hard enough that they lost control of their wings briefly and plummeted.

God hadn’t yet decided that gravity would only be for certain things, and it was everywhere they went- a constant pull down that strengthened their wings as they pulled against it.

At night they returned to Heaven to curl up together and rest- it was one of the only things that Father insisted upon, Michael couldn’t fathom why since they had seemingly no reason to do so, but His will was obeyed, and Gabriel and Lucifer seemed to enjoy it anyway.

That was their life for the first few millennia of existence, and Michael grew to love his siblings in the exact way that Father had told him to- dwelling on that for the first time, was also the first time that he realised Amara had not once visited Heaven since it had been created, but she was Father’s sister, so surely they must love each other as he loved Gabriel, Lucifer and Raphael?

“You seem troubled, Michael, what is wrong?”

He looked up into his Father’s eyes. No matter how much they grew, Father was always taller than them, and he always had to look up to speak to him. With permission given, he asked his query about Amara, and God laughed softly in response,

“Sometimes,” He said, sitting next to Michael and laying a gentle hand on his shoulder, “it is good to spend time apart from your siblings to develop your own, personal interests. Amara and I have differing interests so we’re developing them apart from each other. Do you understand?”

Michael didn’t but he nodded anyway and privately thought that he would never want to be apart from any of his three siblings. Even if Gabriel and Raphael’s incessant curiosity could be too much sometimes, and Lucifer’s pranks were more annoying than they were funny sometimes, the three of them were all he had- aside from his Father- and they were always there.

“You’re quite good at foreshadowing.”

“It wasn’t something that I ever thought could happen, at the time.”

“I’m sorry.”

God deemed them ‘old enough’ out of the blue, and would not explain what He meant by that or what they were old enough for, but after that he demanded that they spend more time in Heaven than out of it. They did, of course and wandered around the wide-open spaces, adding trees and plants in certain places to make it happier and more homely. The office-like part of Heaven had not yet been created, since there was not yet anything for anyone to keep records of as there would be once the souls started coming in. Not that the four archangels had any idea that was going to happen.

Their Father vanished for long periods at a time as this was happening, and Lucifer was convinced that He was planning something- the other three agreed with him, but didn’t want to say anything because it encouraged Lucifer’s wild speculations and his speculations could get incredibly wild. It was funny though, and since being borderline confined to Heaven they had very little to laugh about. Michael hoped that their Father would finish what He was working on soon, but as God often told them that His work could not be rushed, he created some small, round things to amuse his siblings and the four of them took turns to see how far they could throw them.

Lucifer generally won.

It was during one of those games that God finally emerged from His work with two more angels in tow. He called one ‘Metatron,’ the other ‘Naomi’, and He said that they would be His personal assistants in all things to do with His creations. Michael found himself brave enough to ask why he was not good enough to be God’s personal assistant and his Father just smiled,

“Because, Michael, I have other plans for the four of you.”

The Archangels did not see Metatron often, as he was generally following their Father around and recording his plans for future creations, but they did sometimes see Naomi, and she would give them small updates on what was going to happen soon- which was more than their Father did. Michael like to pretend that she was sent by Him to do this, but the reality was that she didn’t really have much to do since she was only second to Metatron. Apparently, Metatron was given a title- Heaven’s Scribe- and he stayed with their Father all the time, and he wasn’t forced to rest at certain time intervals.

Naomi asked if he was jealous, but he wasn’t.

After Naomi and Metatron, God seemed to have decided that even more angels was a good idea, or maybe He had decided that a long time ago and only chose to act on it now, but He began to create more and more, which Naomi would bring to the archangels to look after. She was the one who told them that God’s new angels were different to the original six, and that she and Metatron were different to their original four.

“You are Archangels,” she had told him stiffly, handing over another giggling fledgling who was apparently called Bartholomew this time, “Metatron is The Scribe, I am his second, and these-“ she gestured at the children that were milling about the grass, “-are Seraphs.”

Every movement that Naomi made was arguably stiff, and she didn’t seem to enjoy talking like the other archangels. Sometimes Michael wished that he had been given a chance to raise her as well, maybe then she would be slightly more relaxed and happy around the fledglings, but her position allowed her to filter information down to him, so perhaps it wasn’t so bad.

“Seraphs.” He repeated after she was gone again, he had noticed the differences between the four of them and the new angels- they only had one set of wings, like Naomi, while he had three and Metatron had two. Not that Metatron really had need for any wings since he was always with God, but that was beside the point.

“What is wrong?” Raphael asked, as she moved to stand next to him and look across the new angels as well.

“They are Seraphs.” He told her, feeling clumsy with the unfamiliar word. She screwed her face up and repeated the word carefully, making Michael feel even closer to her as he knew it was not just him struggling with the newness.

“What does it mean?”

“I do not know. Only Father knows.”

She nodded sagely, and then their attention was taken by the fact that several of them were trying to climb on Lucifer- Ishim, Malachi, Ramiel and Anna, if Michael had not mistaken their names again. It was quite hard to remember all their names when there were so many new ones at once.

“Did they really climb on Lucifer?” Adam asked, laughing at the image

“They would climb on all of us- and each other if none of us were near.”

Adam laughed again, “That’s adorable.”

“It was, yes.”

Gabriel adored the Seraphs, all of them with no questions or hesitation, (Michael supposed that might have had something to do with the fact that he was the only one of the archangels to not have a hand in raising another) but a few Seraphs in particular attached themselves to him with a ferocity Michael had not realised they were capable of. Castiel, in particular, loved Gabriel along with the Seraph siblings he was closer with, Balthazar, Anna, Inias, Samandriel, and Benjamin, plus a few others who seemed to float in and out of different groups.

Raphael gained a small following as well, of those Seraphs who were impressed by her ability to heal the little injuries that they sustained through play and Lucifer became a focus for those who disliked having to obey Michael’s schedules. He did worry about them slightly, especially since some of them seemed to love Lucifer more than their Father- Azazel in particular acted like Lucifer was above everything else in his small existence, and it was concerning- but, as Raphael pointed out, they were only children still and they had not seen their Father that often as He was still creating other Seraphs, and a new kind of angel He was apparently going to call ‘Cupids’. Naomi told him that she was almost certain that He did not want the four Archangels to raise the Cupids as well, which was a slight relief as there were many, many Seraphs and Michael wasn’t certain that he could deal with another type of angel on top of that.

The Seraphs existed, they grew, and they learned with help from their four eldest siblings, and once Father finished creating the Seraphs and His Cupids, He began to spend more time mingling with His children once again. Michael found that he was happy once again, in the same way he had been before the creation of anything other than him- it was different of course, and he had more responsibility and he had to train the Seraphs with his sword as well as practicing to make Father pleased, but it was always bright in Heaven, the Seraphs’ laughter could always be heard from at least one direction and everyone could feel the strength of Father’s presence. Even Naomi seemed to lose some of her stiffness when she helped him to usher the Seraphs from one task to another, and a few times he was almost convinced he saw her smile.

It didn’t last. Father had more plans for the universe He had begun to create, and He soon tired of just spending His existence playing with fledglings. He returned to the place where He created, taking Metatron and Naomi with Him- Metatron was not missed by anyone, but Michael missed Naomi’s ability to be firm with the Seraphs, and some of the Seraphs missed the way that she would carry them if they refused to move. It got harder to raise them with the lack of divinity that they had all enjoyed while their father was around and some of the younger ones would cry more often and sometimes be completely inconsolable. When Michael had the time to reflect, many years later while ruling Heaven, he would wonder if that was where Lucifer’s resentment of their Father started.

Naomi came back to report that their Father had created a ‘planet’. The stiffness had returned to her movements and she looked at the Seraphs with her original apathy. She said the planet was to be called Earth and that it would be the site of God’s next creations.

When given permission, Michael took all his siblings down to Earth to explore.

Naomi had told them that, while they were down there a fish- one of Father’s earliest creation would emerge from the water that covered everything, and it was important in the next development of life on the planet. Michael passed on this information to the rest of the archangels and someone made it into a sort of game, in which they competed to find the fish first. If Metatron had spent slightly more time around them and explained the concept of God, they may have known that it was already written who would find the fish, and they had no say in it. However, Metatron fancied himself as above all the other angels and therefore did not spend anytime with them at all if God had not commanded it, and he certainly didn’t go out of his way to start conversations.

They managed to split the Seraphs into four groups- later these groups would be divided again and called garrisons, but God had no use for organised fighters yet- each with one archangel at the head and they flew down to Earth, so more clumsily than others.

It was Castiel who found the fish first, he was standing a little way from Balthazar and Inias who were playing with the sand that was found at the edge of the water, when it crawled out- tiny appendages visible and with lungs that started working as soon as it hit the air. He crouched down to watch it and Gabriel, who had been trying to teach some of the other Seraphs to build what he was calling a ‘sand-castle’ noticed and flew over. Carefully he pulled him back to give the little fish some space.

“Don’t step on that fish, Cassie,” he told him, looking down at the wide-eyed Seraph, “big plans for that fish.”

Michael joined them soon after, “Have you found Father’s fish?”

“It seems like it.”

Everyone gathered around to look, and together as unified angels, for what would be the first and last time, they watched together as the struggling fish took it first movements up the beach and onto land.

“And then you have the seven days of creation, or whatever it was, right?”

“It wasn’t seven days- that was the story He told the early humans because they had no concept of that amount of time- but yes, He created night and day, sea and land, the plants, the other heavenly bodies, animals for the land, sea and sky, and then finally humans.”

“Adam and Eve.”

“It was Adam and Lilith originally.”

“Really? I don’t remember that in Sunday school.”

God showed off His newest creation to all His children with pride, and He told them that the ‘humans’ were more important than they were for His plan. Michael stayed on Earth for quite a while after that, watching the naked humans stumble about the garden and destroy Father’s plants by pulling things off of them with no care, and scattering those they did not like on the floor. He didn’t understand how something so careless could be more important than the angels who would never dare to destroy any of God’s creations so brazenly. Unknown to him, Lucifer agreed, but he was angry about it.

Lilith was a beautiful woman and she probably did love Adam at first, but he viewed himself as more like God, since God came to them in a male form, and demanded she submit to him as his wife. Lilith was also proud and strong and she refused to do so- Michael wasn’t present when it happened, but God agreed with Adam and cast Lilith out to reside in a place He had named ‘Hell’ until He decided what to do with her. As a replacement He then created Eve from Adam and the two humans were equal no longer.

Raphael was horrified at that development, and she had Gabriel and Lucifer supporting her- although Gabriel was just supporting her because he didn’t know what else to say, and Lucifer supported her because it allowed him to develop his narrative of the incompetence of humans when compared to the angels. Michael, however, stood by his Father’s decision. Lilith’s banishment was probably the start of the rift between the archangels, but it was only increased by the return of Amara.

If Michael were completely honest, he would admit that, by that point, he had almost forgotten about Amara’s existence- which was forgivable since she had not shown herself since before Heaven was created and his Father did not speak of her often, or at all. Her return was the only time that Michael ever saw Metatron without God before He left Heaven for good- he had been removed from the throne room, along with Naomi, and both of them were sat with their backs to the doors, waiting patiently. Neither of them knew what was happening when he asked, but Michael stayed to talk to them- mostly Naomi, since he still regretted not having looked after her more- and that was why he was there when their Father forcibly removed Amara from the throne room and yelled that she was not to return. Father didn’t even acknowledge the three of them, waiting patiently, He just turned back into the throne room, slamming the door behind Him.

Later, the four archangels were summoned to the throne room and informed of a special mission they must undertake alongside their Father.

“None of you were concerned about that?”

“I think we were just grateful that we were allowed to be near him again.”

“Michael…”

The actual fight with Amara would forever remain a blurry memory for Michael, and he was never certain why- it was possible that it was something to do with the sheer amount of power he was exposed in while in the middle of God and Amara fighting each other with the full force of their power.

There was a cage- he remembered that- and the reason the four of them had been brought along was to lure Amara into that cage and shut the door on her, so she could never escape. Then the lock was sealed with a mark on Lucifer. God had smiled when He told them that, said that the brightness of His Morningstar’s grace would be able to withstand the evil and anger of the mark that originated with Amara. Michael had been a little concerned for Lucifer when He had first explained this, but the utter joy that Lucifer displayed at regaining his position as the Morningstar- God’s favourite- was enough to silence Michael’s concern. If he had taken the time to consider his Father’s battle plan, as he would when he was in charge of making them, he might have wondered why God already had a strategically placed cage that could hold His sister, and a plan on how to seal in forever, as it was he didn’t- he didn’t consider why until he had to seal away his own brother in yet another cage.

The Mark was obvious on Lucifer’s grace, even if he wore it as a symbol of pride, it was dark and ugly, and Michael hated it.

“Michael?”

“Sorry. I just can’t help but think if I had thought through what He was doing…”

“It wasn’t your fault. You know that right?”

“Yes but…”

“No!”

There was a pause and Michael smiled at him sadly, his smile suggested that they should agree to disagree, or they would circulate that conversation for years. Adam sighed,

“Is this when he does the first temptation?”

They all expected that God would spend more time with them after Amara’s imprisonment, Naomi had suggested that she thought worrying about His sister was what had taken up so much of His time previously, but she was apparently wrong. God went straight back to focusing on His humans- doting on them in a way that He had never done with His other children. The humans were given a rule then; they weren’t to eat from the fruit that hung from the new tree He placed in the centre of the garden.

Speculations picked up in Heaven about why God had given them that rule, but nobody really knew, except maybe the new angel Joshua who had been created on the same level as Metatron and left to look after the garden. That was the cause of confusion as well, God had previously said that the humans were to look after the garden, so why did He create an angel to do the same thing? Lucifer was convinced that He had a plan, but he didn’t seem very happy about it. When asked by the Seraphs about Lucifer, Michael didn’t know what to tell them, but he knew that Lucifer was still upset from a second rejection from their Father. God still preferred the humans.

The temptation of Adam and Eve was recorded quite accurately by humans in the future, which Michael never understood, except for one part- Lucifer did not go down as a serpent to speak to Eve, but as himself in all his utter beauty. It has been said that the devil comes disguised as everything you have ever wanted, and that was completely true for Eve who only had Adam to speak to the majority of the time, and a friend- who was willing to listen to her theories about the garden and what certain herbs could do- was exactly what she wanted. That was the other part that humans never recorded, Lucifer did not go down once and convince them to eat the fruit, instead he visited regularly and let Eve build up trust in him before he slowly steered the conversation towards the forbidden fruit.

In the end, that took too long, her natural curiosity couldn’t quite override her belief in God, and Lucifer lied. He told Eve it would make her as clever and knowledgeable as God- even more knowledgeable than Lucifer himself, and he left her with that knowledge. Eve told Adam, and the rest of it- as they say- is history. Although, very few people realise that Eve was heavily pregnant when they were banished from the garden, and she gave birth for the first time as they were trying to find somewhere new to stay.

The need for the angel Joshua became abundantly clear in Heaven.

God became noticeably absent again.

“Again??”

“Yes, Adam.”

“And I thought my dad sucked.”

With their Father suddenly absent and nobody giving orders, Michael was lost and thrust into a position he had not been prepared for. He forbade Lucifer from going down to Earth, and assigned some of his most loyal Seraphs to follow that order- Zachariah and Uriel among others- he hoped that this would ease some of the horrified tension that had built up in Heaven since Lucifer had committed the unthinkable. It did not.

Heaven became slightly disorganised alongside Michael trying to step up as a leader in the absence of God, and Lucifer’s Seraphs, as he had come to think of them, began to pull back from following his orders and look to Lucifer instead. In desperation he reorganised the small garrisons that had started to form so that Lucifer’s followers were mixed among those still utterly loyal to God. Nobody was really happy, and even those he had separated from Lucifer somehow found their way back. Michael chose to speak to Lucifer about it, although it can be said that it wasn’t much of a choice when looking at his options.

“You can skip this bit, I kind of know how it goes.”

“No. No, it’s just that I realised that was the first time we fought.”

“Oh…”

“He accused me of trying to divide Heaven and make our siblings unhappy.”

In the end, Michael allowed the Seraphs to return to where they preferred, but the damage had already been done. Maybe it had been done with the original temptation, or maybe it was Michael’s failed attempt to fix it, but it was damaged and his arguments with Lucifer began to get even worse.

Gabriel and Raphael had no place in that fight, and they watched from the side-lines as their two older brothers, the two who had raised them together and loved them more than anything, began to fall apart. If you had asked either of the younger archangels, before the fighting had begun, if they believed in soulmates, their answers would have been yes, and they would have pointed to Michael and Lucifer as an example. They had always been joined at the hip, as the humans would say much later on in their existence, and they used to move together as though they were part of one being. In the same way that the eldest child watches their parent’s relationship fall apart before a divorce, they kept the Seraphs away from the arguments, and amused them with whatever they could conjure up when the fighting became to much to ignore. They took on extra duties to fill the gaps where Michael and Lucifer had been, along with trying to fill the gaps left by their Father, and when the Seraphs were resting, they would curl up back to back and try not to let the other know they were crying.

And then one of the Seraphs, Remiel, who was old enough that she remembered the peace from before but young enough that she thought she could help, tried to break up one of Michael and Lucifer’s fights. She got in between them as Michael lunged with his blade, aiming for the centre of Lucifer’s grace, and she became the first casualty in what would become the first civil war in Heaven. Michael in the cage referred to it as The Civil War because, to his knowledge, there had not been another and he could never have imagined that Raphael, the healer, and Castiel, a Seraph, would be bold enough to start another.

Her death caused an emotion within Michael that he was not aware anyone could feel, his grace was twisting in on itself and it wanted to destroy whatever had hurt her. He couldn’t because it was him, and the unidentifiable emotion was grief. Unbeknown to him, Michael would become achingly familiar with the feeling as time progressed.

And then God came back.

Michael wanted to think that God had come back because things had gotten out of hand, and he hung onto that belief with a frightening conviction, even when the fighting between him and Lucifer increased. Prior evidence considered; it was more likely that Remiel’s death was another part of His plan.

Raphael and Gabriel were still struggling with the Seraphs, and it was one time when Michael and Lucifer had retreated to lick their wounds that their Father spoke to the two of them alone for the first time ever.

“He is building something in the place that Lilith resides.” Raphael had said as they sat alone, overlooking Earth and the children of Adam and Eve- Lucifer had tempted one son to kill another, and by doing so had passed on part of the Mark that sealed Amara’s cage.

“I noticed.”

She looked at her brother, he was hunched over and miserable, still mourning the loss of Remiel, and unable to care about much at the moment. She was about to reach over and reassure him, tell him that angels couldn’t simply cease to exist and that she had to be somewhere in the universe when their Father appeared, and both shot to their feet in surprise.

“Hello, children.” He greeted them with the same benevolent smile that He always wore on His face that didn’t seem as comforting as it had been previously in light of the newer developments in Heaven. He sat with them, an intruder on what had been a quiet space and He waited. They didn’t know it, but He was waiting for them to tell Him how worried they were about everything in Heaven, how they were scared for the future and didn’t know how to look after the Seraphs without Michael and Lucifer anymore.

They didn’t tell Him, it all seemed too much to vocalise, and in the end, God got tired of waiting for them to talk to Him and instead just launched into His comforting speech.

“I know that this is a hard time for you, my children, but you must understand that I have a plan.” He smiled at them as though this was the most fantastic news, “There is unrest at the moment but with my plan, it will all be sorted quite soon and all you will have to do is wait.”

The three of them sat in silence for a little while after He finished speaking, the two archangels unwilling to say anything and unable to express their fear. Eventually He rose and smiled at them again, “Hang in there, my children, it will all come to its conclusion.”

And then He was gone again, leaving them alone and miserable and even more frightened for the future.

“I don’t know if I want to find out.” Raphael whispered,

“Find out what?”

“What His conclusion to all of this is. I’m scared.”

“As long as no more Seraphs die, it doesn’t matter.”

“Did more Seraphs die?”

“Yes. Not only then but they have continued to fall in number as the years went on.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Lucifer killed a Seraph who dared suggest that he was in the wrong, and I believe that is what pushed Gabriel away in the end.”

Anabiel was dead now, as well as Remiel and her death hadn’t even been the same accidental circumstances as Remiel’s. Lucifer had pulled out his blade in a fit of anger and run her through without a pause or a second thought. Raphael had buried her, and she and Gabriel had tried to reassure the Seraphs, tried to tell them that their oldest brothers loved them still, even when two dead seemed to point to the contrary. God had not created His Seraphs to be stupid, however, and they saw straight through the archangels’ desperation. No one said anything, but they all knew that their words held less truth every day.

The awful routine that had unfortunately been set up continued- Raphael and Gabriel roused the Seraphs come morning, Raphael and Gabriel continued to educate them about Heaven, Raphael and Gabriel played with the Seraphs and indulged them in their silly games, and all the while in the background of their strained normality, Michael and Lucifer fought. Some days, one or the other would join them in playing with the Seraphs and there would be silence in the background- but never both of them together, the four archangels were not a complete unit any longer.

That could be the end of the story, we know that the Heavenly Host fell apart, and continued to fall apart until all that was left were warring factions who didn’t even know why they wanted to destroy each other- what happens next is quite common knowledge, but it doesn’t share the awful emotions that come with having family ripped apart, slowly at first and then with a huge pull as ordered by your father.

Gabriel was the youngest of the archangels, and as such he had been completely doted upon by his three older siblings until the creation of the Seraphs, and during that time he had been instrumental in keeping them together at all times- he would insist upon games that required all four of them, he had been the one to demand all four of them shared a nest, and he was never quite sure how to function without the other three parts of his whole. Now he only really had one other piece, and even she was pulling away to avoid being hurt, so he took a slightly drastic measure and he removed himself from the whole.

“What are you doing?”

He jumped, almost guiltily at Raphael’s voice and looked up from where he was carefully taking feathers from what used to be the archangels’ nest.

“Nothing.” He told her, but she was impossible to lie to and had been considering the same course of action.

“You’re leaving?”

“I’m sorry.”

She shook her head, not angry, not disappointed, but understanding and sat down next to him silently and he suddenly found all the words that had been stuck inside him pouring out for her to hear.

“I can’t do this, I can’t just sit around and listen to them fighting every day while we try to convince the Seraphs that nothing is wrong because there is something wrong, there is and we both know it, we can both feel it and I’m crying whenever there isn’t anyone to see, and the only person I have is you but even you are busy all the time with the children.”

They both started crying then, and Raphael found herself begging him not to leave her, while Gabriel begged her to come with him, but they both knew that their choices had been made even before they stepped into their old nest for the first time in years. Gabriel, and only Gabriel, would be the next angel to leave them.

“I’ll miss you.” One of them said, or maybe both of them because it was true on both accounts and they cried together for another length of time until it was time to send the Seraphs back to their nests for the night. Gabriel did it by silent and mutual agreement because it would be the last time, he would see them, and they deserved to spend that last time with him before he left.

“I won’t tell anyone.” Raphael whispered as he got up to leave. “I won’t let them know that I knew.”

Michael, who was regaling this story to Adam in the cage, obviously did not know the full details of their conversation before Gabriel left since he had not been there, but Raphael had given him a short version of it while they were ruling Heaven together and he had wondered why Gabriel had left them. She didn’t tell him about the tears or the fact that she had promised not to tell, just Gabriel’s motivations, and she hadn’t told him that she had wanted so desperately to join him.

“What happened to him?”

“I don’t know. He was impossible to find.”

“But he told the Virgin Mary she was pregnant, didn’t he? Or has the bible lied to me?”

“He was impossible to find to everyone except God.”

Nobody spoke about Gabriel’s unexpected disappearance; his absence was something everyone was hyper-aware of but ignored out of fear of the reaction of the other archangels. It would have broken Michael that his siblings were afraid of him if he had been aware of anything other than Lucifer’s continued rebellion. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on the point of view of the person looking on, he was not aware of anything other than Lucifer’s continued rebellion and the Seraphs no longer came to him with their little problems or to sit with him and try and persuade him to let them play with his sword. They avoided him unless he gave them an order and that, unknowingly, set the new precedent for Heaven.

Michael and Lucifer were pretty much evenly matched in their fighting- Michael had taught Lucifer how to fight, and he had taught all his siblings all he knew so that they could be strong. Neither of them ever ‘won’ any of their fights in the traditional sense, they would just fight until they both pulled away due to exhaustion and the cycle would start again the next day. It was a cycle, and it was never ending to the point where their shouts could almost always be heard throughout Heaven. Raphael put the Seraphs through their paces as the blows started again in the background and she wondered if Gabriel was happier than her.

“How long did that cycle last for?”

“I couldn’t say. It felt like forever.”

“How did it end?”

“Father finished what he had built in Hell.”

“The Cage.”

Michael made a sweeping motion around them at the unfortunate emptiness. “The Cage.”

God came back again, from wherever it was that He had been while Gabriel had run away, His two oldest had attempted to kill each other again and again, and while Raphael had begun to be colder with the Seraphs, and He did not bring good news, although He told them He did.

“You want me to trap Lucifer in a cage you have built?”

“He has become too dangerous, my son, and he is the cause of the unhappiness in Heaven.”

Michael thought about that very carefully, “If I do this, Heaven will return to its previous state?”

“Yes, my son.”

“I shall organise my garrisons.”

Maybe if Michael had known that God had begun to construct the cage, that he was to trap Lucifer in, many years before any violence had broken out in Heaven he might have asked what God’s overarching plan was, but God was careful and Michael did not know that, he only knew that his Father had not lied to him before and he knew that he wanted Gabriel back and he wanted Raphael to be happy once again. She had not laughed in years.

He told Raphael of the plan because he would need her- she was the one who had been training the Seraphs while he and Lucifer had been fighting. Raphael did not argue, she did not complain or ask Father why this was necessary, she just nodded and began to organisations that Michael wanted. The Seraphs noticed how miserable she was and obeyed without question, they wanted to make her life easier, even if they didn’t quite understand. Unfortunately, some of the Seraphs were still more loyal to Lucifer and they told him what Michael and Raphael were doing- and they embellished the little that they knew as well because they were only young, and they did not understand that there would be consequences greater than they had known before.

“You don’t have to tell me about the actual fight.”

“It was so much. He positioned those loyal to him around him, as a line of defence and I had to cut through my siblings to reach him.”

“Michael…”

“There was so- there was… there was so much death, Adam.”

Raphael took her place at Michael’s right hand and looked across the battlefield. Because that is what it was- a battlefield, where even more of their siblings would be lost- and she didn’t cry, but she wanted to. Lucifer was surrounded by Seraphs that she had helped raise from fledglings, and if Michael were to succeed, he would need to get through them. She could almost see the path he would take, and she knew which of them would be the first to die.

“We do this for Heaven.” He had told them, forceful and righteous, “We do this for our Father.”

Maybe the Seraphs had been emboldened by his short and rousing speech, but she was not, and it was too late to stop anything anyway. She spent a short amount of time wondering what Gabriel would do before she realised- he would have left, and that was exactly what he had done.

“I should have gone with you,” she whispered into the cold air, “I wish I had.”

Michael heard her and he wanted to say something, something encouraging and bright to help her get through this, but when he turned to look at her, he realised that he didn’t know what would help her anymore, he didn’t know the cold figure with a sword who had once been the healer. His little sister was gone, a warrior stood beside him, Gabriel had run, and he was about to cast Lucifer out of Heaven.

“This is what Father knows to be best.” He announced, and then he charged. Raphael kept at his side throughout the whole battle and no matter how much faith she might have lost, she fought as though she was doing the right thing.

Far away, from a hidden pocket on Earth, Gabriel stood in the rain and watched the burning trails of his siblings fall from Heaven as Michael cast them out, cast them down to live in Hell, and his tears mingled with the rain but it didn’t matter because there was no one around to convince that he wasn’t crying. Lucifer’s fall was the most obvious- he might have become corrupted but there was nothing in Heaven or Hell that could have dulled the overwhelming brightness of his grace. It burned like the sun was falling and his pain was felt for miles. Gabriel fell to the ground and sobbed even harder.

Unknown to all of them, up in Heaven, Raphael was doing the same thing, sitting in the middle of where the battlefield had been, surrounded by the burnt wing patterns of the Seraphs she had trained. The remaining Seraphs were scattered around, eyes wide open and scared, looking to the two archangels for help where none could be offered. Michael stood on the edge, watching the space where Lucifer had taken his fall and he too cried, for a loss that would never be filled and a family that would never be fixed. The dull ache that wrapped around his grace and wanted him to scream was back, he turned to see the overlapping burns that littered Heaven’s floor and he was lost, completely lost.

God broke the silence, unexpectedly.

“Congratulations, you have all saved Heaven.” He smiled His benevolent smile, and turned away abruptly, “Metatron! Come along, we have more work to do.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“He just left you all there to mourn the loss of, like, half of your siblings and didn’t even try to help?”

“The universe was important to Him.”

“More important than- forget it. What happened next?”

“Naomi was given to us to help raise and train the Seraphs and Heaven continued as normal.”

“What about Raphael?”

“She became more distant and closed off. I think she lost faith in our Father, especially after He left for good.”

“And Gabriel?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since.”

18 notes · View notes

percywinchester27 · 5 years

Text

About a boy (Part-3)

Word count: 3.3K

Warning: Suspense, feels, mention of physical abuse and bullying

Characters: Dean, Cas, Gabriel, Benny, Michael, OCs and… Sam?

Summary: Dean Winchester has a secret. A secret that could really land him in trouble. He never expected to connect with anyone when he walked into the ‘Blue Stone Orphanage for Boys,’ but even then, the walls he has put up are slowly coming down. Now, a series of strange events are threatening to expose him. When everything starts falling apart around him, will he still be able to save the one person that matters the most?

A/N: Many thanks to @thing-you-do-with-that-thing and @deanssweetheart23 for beta reading this story. I love you guys <3

Part 1 Part 2

Cas prayed. Every day. He woke up each morning, sat on the bed with his feet folded Indian style and hands joined in a Namaste. Dean would just look up from his bunk and there he would be meditating on the top in his boxers and a loose tank, eyes closed, back ramrod straight. It was funny, Dean actually cracked a smile.

For the next few days he stuck to Cas. Going around with him to the school which was about a mile and a half away, and then back. Cas didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to enjoy Dean's company. Dean would be lying if he said he had been used to something like that before.

On the outside, it looked like Cas was taking him around the place, showing him the ropes and such, but in the few minutes they managed to snatch away from the prying eye, they were always plotting.

Dean realized one thing. It was hard. Finding Sam was going to be hard as hell. Even harder than what he thought it was going to be.

Sam had been 6 months old when he was thrown into an orphanage, and as Cas pointed out, it might have been completely another orphanage. He might have been transferred here and it could be as recent as a couple of months ago or as old as a few years.

Dean was also curious about his fellow roommates. Cas said they were nice boys, but Dean had his reservations. Gabriel, or Gabe, as Cas called him, was loud and obnoxious, he had the cheesy behavior, but his whiskey colored eyes were always full of mischief, like he knew something about you that you didn't know yourself. His brown hair was on the longer side, and his smile dripped cunningness. Gabriel's bed was always littered with chocolate wrappers. Even though it was against the rules to get stuff like that from outside, no one seemed to rat Gabriel out. It was as Cas had said, he had one up on everyone. Gabriel didn't show any particular interest in wanting to get to know Dean, and Dean was thankful for that. Gabriel smelled trouble, and he didn't want any of it.

The other roommate was silent and kept to himself, but that made Dean even more wary of him. Benny wasn't in the face like Gabe, but he was just there, observing everything quietly. It was unsettling, like everything he did was being watched, was being noted. To add to that, he never seemed to sleep… like some sort of a vampire. It was disconcerting enough that he was now confiding everything in Cas when he had promised himself that this was going to be his own battle to fight. Now he had gone ahead and included Cas in it.

But, boy, it relieving.

Cas was just as excited to find Sam. He went over the whole management system with Dean. The place was owned by a Styne family. The head, Eldon, barely ever showed, about twice or thrice in a year. Andy was the one who managed everything. He knew that Michael and his little parade of goons were up to something, but as long as everyone remained scared of Michael, it maintained the place in order, so he turned a blind eye towards that, until something brought it to glaring attention, like Gabriel's little stunt the other day would have.

In the coming week, Dean learnt the hierarchy. Michael's two main supports were Gary and Raphael. Cas had warned him to not cross paths with them, because after what had happened, they wouldn't waste a second before ratting him out.

It was Cas' brilliant plan to sneak into the record room in the evening when everyone was out in the grounds playing and having fun. It would have worked well, but just as they were about to sneak into the record room, Andy called out to them.

"Winchester!"

Dean stopped in his tracks and closed his eyes, praying that he wouldn't get caught.

"What're you doing here?" Then Andy realised that Dean wasn't alone. "You're hanging out with Castiel?"

"Is that a bad thing?" Cas asked, voice feebly brave.

Andy smirked. "Not really. Didn't expect you to hang out is all. What're you doing inside at this time?"

"Thought I'd take Dean around the library," Cas managed, effortlessly.

The older man eyed them, especially Cas, then shrugged. "Fine, if you're gonna nerd out together. Just lock the door when you're done. I'm not waiting back till you two are done. I have a hot date."

That was too much information, but the moment Andy turned, Dean exchanged an excited look with his friend. They were alone now.

Ascertaining that Andy was truly gone, the two of them rushed to the record room and shut the door behind them, facing the rows and rows of filing.

"This is going to take ages, isn't it?" Dean mumbled.

A corner of Cas' mouth pulled down. "Guess so."

They set to work anyway, trying to figure out the system of filing. After half an hour of going through the pile, Dean finally said out loud what was on his mind. "Why did Andy sound like he wasn't expecting me to hang out with you?"

Cas wasn't visible to Dean, as he was working on the rack after his, but his hushed voice was still audible. "Let's just say I'm not the most sought out kid here."

"What does that mean?"

A sigh.

"This place is like the jungle. Survival of the fittest and all that… You look like you could fit right in with the predators."

What Cas meant was pretty clear. Dean gave off that vibe, what with the sullen looks and his dad's overlarge leather jacket, he would be expected to hang out with idiots like Michael and his gang. He would be expected to give in to their stupid initiation test, lick Michael's ass and raise to the ranks of the bullies instead of being bullied.

"I'm the nerd of sorts. I let people be," Cas added.

Something still didn't add up. From what Dean had seen, Cas wasn't a bully, but he wasn't bullied either.

"That first night," Dean said slowly, weighing his words, "Michael could have easily hurt you, or his guy Gary, instead they just restrained you and shoved you around. Why?"

Another sigh. Apparently Dean was asking all the questions that Cas didn't want to answer… but he did anyway.

"Michael and I… Well, we go back a long way. We come from the same orphanage. I've known him as long as I remember… He's the closest thing that I have to a…"

"Brother," Dean completed. The word hung awkwardly between them.

"He's not a bad person," Cas said, "Just angry and bitter. Life hasn't been fair to him."

Who had life been fair to? Dean thought. If that had been the case, none of the 712 boys would be rotting here at the home. He didn't say that out loud though.

"I figured it out!" Cas exclaimed, all of a sudden. "I figured out the filing system!"

He bent around the rack to see Dean, blue eyes wide with excitement. "These are stacked according to the year. That means the one who came first, the box would be at the very end."

"Great!" Dean groaned. "Now we have to find out when Sam got put into this one, too."

*******************************

It took more than a couple of weeks.

Mostly because Andy didn't have a date everyday to abandon his post, but also because Dean had his share of duties, too. The cleaning, the washing, the babysitting duties for the little kids.

Sometimes, Gary and Raphael would cross him in the corridors, a few more of the older kids would give him looks, but for the most part everyone just ignored him. Who was he but another sheep added to an overly large flock? No one cared.

He quickly realised one thing though, if it hadn't been for Cas, it would have been a lonely existence. Gabriel, he learned, had been from the same orphanage as Cas, too. They had been transferred here about 8 years back. Benny was new, but Benny also didn't care. The place could go down in a tornado and he still wouldn't care.

Through the chores, the school and the scheming, Dean couldn't help but look around the kids bunking on the 4th floor, searching for eyes that looked like his, a gait like his or a crooked smile here and there. There were at least 100 of them aged 11 to 14. How was he ever going to find Sam.

"Tell me what you remember about him most clearly?" Cas asked one evening as he dumped the contents of pale brown box on the floor of the record room.

Dean thought for a second before replying. "I think it's the smile."

"Smile?" Cas asked pleasantly surprised.

"Yeah. I'd tell him that we could practice ball when he grew up and he'd recognize my voice and smile."

That wasn't a helpful detail. Cas knew all the kids, but that didn't help if Dean couldn't remember how to pinpoint it. There had to be something distinctive about him that Dean could remember. Something that would help.

"Tell you what? If you keep going at it, you'll remember something helpful I'm sure."

The comment was encouraging but Dean wasn't sure if he had it in him.

"So, what's your story?" Dean asked, more to distract Cas from the conversation.

"My story?"

"Yeah."

Cas scratched his black hair. "There is nothing to it. My memory begins in an orphanage. Seems like my folks weren't interested in me from the get go."

Must be hard, Dean thought, to know that you were never loved enough. Sure he had to deal with the searing pain of losing his mom and dad like that, but at least he knew it in his bones that they had loved him. Did that make losing them worse? Probably. But was the possibility of love better than never having been loved at all?

"So who gave you your name?"

Cas surprised Dean by grinning sheepishly. "Someone at the old orphanage was a bible freak. They named all the kids after angels. Michael, Rapahel, Gabriel, Castiel… see where this is going? Basically, if you find a biblical name around here, you know where the kid came from, yeah? Kind of makes the distinction easy. Right, Dean… Dean?"

Dean had gone shock still.

"Dean, you okay?"

"How old were you when you came here?" Dean asked, urgently, dread growing in his chest.

"4 months," Cas answered, "We found my file the other day, didn't we?"

"Yes! But we went through all the files from that year and we didn't find Gabriel's. He was put in the same year, too. That means-"

"There are missing records?" Cas completed, voice hollow.

Dean stumbled back into the cabinet, the file he was holding slipping out of his hand. If Sam's records were misplaced, they could go through these files their whole life and never find Sam.

"Don't give up, Dean," Cas whispered, but the words fell on deaf ears. He should have known that this was too good to be true, too easy. As if just by looking at all these folders he was supposed to find his brother.

As if after everything, things were just going to go back to normal.

Dean skipped dinner that night. Cas called him, but he just pretended to be asleep, till Cas had gone away. The darkness of the room wasn't enough to shroud the hopelessness that he felt within. What was he doing in this alien place. Dean didn't belong here. He missed the dry heat of the place that he thought of as home, now. Missed the stains of dark grease, the damn smell of a garage on rainy thundering nights.

It was thundering that night, too.

The sky cracked and lightening thundered in the dark sky. Dean held on to the crib tighter.

"Shhhh… Sammy," he said running his fingers over his brothers forehead. "It's gonna be alright."

"C'mon, let's say goodnight to your brother," his mom reminded him lovingly from behind as she turned the lights off.

Dean leaned over and kissed Sam on his forehead. "Night, Sam."

"Good night, love," his mom said, lightly brushing Sam's brown hair back, and following Dean's suit and kissing him, too. Dean pushed back into her. He loved the way his mom smelled. Tangy like apples.

"Hey, Dean."

Dean turned to see his dad standing in the doorway, a light smile playing on his lips. Dean immediately rushed over and threw himself at him. "Daddy!"

His dad scooped Dean up. "Hey buddy!" Then he raised his hand, which Dean high-fived.

"So what do you think? You think Sammy's ready to toss around a football yet?"

Dean turned back to look and his little brother, then shook his head, laughing. "No, Daddy."

Dad laughed. "I don't think so, either."

Just then mom passed them both, ruffling his hair. "You got him?" She asked dad.

"I got him," dad winked at Dean, then looked over at Sammy. "Sweet dreams, Sam."

He's asleep soon. Then awake. Too suddenly.

His mom screamed.

"No! Mary!" His dad yelled "No!"

Dean jumped out of bed and ran towards the noise. His mom and dad sounded scared. It was too warm… hot.

There was a fire in Sam's room, Dad was there… no mom.

"Dean!" His dad called.

"Daddy!"

His dad was scared, sweating and hurt. In his hand was a little bundle. Sammy.

He thrust Sam into Dean's hands, his back to the blazing fire. Dean's eyes were burning. He couldn't see mom.

"Take your brother outside as fast as you can and don't look back! Now, Dean, go!"

Dad pushed him hard, towards the stairs. He held Sam tightly and made a run for it, till he was outside the door and into the lawn.

"It's okay, Sammy," he whispered. "I gotcha."

Then the window blasted and the whole house exploded in fire.

Dean sat up bolt in his bed, sweating, heart trying to beat out of his chest. He blinked his eyes not just to be rid of the moisture there but also to figure out where the hell he was. It took a couple of seconds, but then it all came to him. He was at a boys' home. Cas was snoring lightly above him. Gabriel not so lightly next to him.

The tiny digital clock on the rickety table read 00:17.

Dean tried to breathe normally, but gave up after a couple of minutes. He wasn't going to get any peace with the rate at which his heart was going, or how clammy he suddenly felt. The very dread he had been trying to run away from all evening, had finally caught up with him and how.

Denial was a crappy coping mechanism. He knew that, he had always known that. But what else did he have?

Getting up, he made his way to the bathrooms at the very end of the corridor, and splashed water on his face. Dean immediately felt a little better. The cold water seemed to help with frayed nerves. So, he splashed his face once more, running the water over his hands too. Not knowing what else to do, he strolled along the long passageway and came to rest in front of the staircase grill that locked everyone on to the floor. The light breeze coming in from the window opposite to the grill was calming. Dean slid down along the length of the grill to the floor, staring up at the dark sky, barely illuminated by the crescent shaped moon.

"Can't fall asleep?" The quiet voice made him jump out of his skin.

"What the fuck!" Dean swore, his barely in control heartbeat accelerating again, as he tried to look for the person in the dark.

"Sorry," the voice apologized sincerely. "I didn't mean to scare you or anything."

Dean squinted in the darkness, finally spotting the person. On the other side of the grill, on the opposite end from him was another shadow, mirroring his exact pose, huddled with his back against the grill.

"I can't sleep, either," the kid said, not deterred by Dean's lack of response. "Still, sorry for creeping up on you."

"That's okay," Dean said, not wanting to give away that he actually had been frightened.

"You new?"

Dean shrugged, then remembered it was actually too dark to see anything. "Yeah."

"It can be hard," the boy said. "Lot of new admits find it tough to adjust."

Was the kid patronising him?

"Not much of a talker, I see," said the kid. "I'm gonna shut up now."

It made Dean smirk despite himself. "What're you doing up?"

The voice perked up at some response. "I got a math Olympiad, tomorrow. I suck at it."

"You're up because you're nervous about a silly test?"

It brought Dean up short. It shocked him that there were kids here with normal fears, like tests and exams. Not everyone was on a mission to find long lost brothers. How stupid of him to just overlook that? It made him feel out of place.

"Like you've never been worried about an exam before? And it’s not a silly test, It could be my one way ticket into a University." He'd offended the kid. Must be what? Around 11 or 12 years of age. Couldn't be less than that since he bunked on the 4th floor.

"You're just like the other big guys," the kid muttered.

"It's not like that," Dean said. "I'm just distracted." Why was he explaining this to the kid anyway?

"That's fine," came the reply, chirpy again, apparently satisfied with Dean's half-hearted explanation. "I know the sort of crap that goes on up on your floor."

"Know something about that, huh?"

"Everyone does."

Fair enough. "I'm not a favourite," Dean warned. "It'd be better for you to not be found chumming up with me."

"I don't care." The answer was firm. steely. "I hate bullies."

The word 'hate' somehow sounded harsh coming from a soft voice like that. Dean had to raise an eyebrow.

They sat in silence for a while. Dean let his mind wander through all that had happened today. Sam's smile kept invading his mind. His light eyes, his brown hair.

"Brown hair!" Dean yelped.

"What?"

"Nothing," Dean said, more to himself than the kid. "He had brown hair." Like their dad's… lighter, but still definitely brown.

Dean couldn't give up now. Not when he was already in here. He couldn't stop looking for Sam. If he didn't give it his best shot, he'd regret it all his life. He would go through every damn file, tear the place apart if it means that he could find his brother again.

"Are you alright?" The voice on the other side sounded vaguely concerned, as if not anxious about Dean per se, but doubting his mental health.

Dean didn't care. At last, he could actually breathe. Freely.

"Hey, kid, thanks!"

"For what?" Perplexed.

"Nothing," Dean almost grinned. "Good luck with your test… uh Olympiad tomorrow," he said, getting up and dusting his clothes.

"Thanks, I guess?" The voice trailed behind him as Dean walked back to his room. He fell on the bed fully clothed.

Tomorrow would be a new day, and he would try again… and again and again till he succeeded.

******************************

A/N 2: I really really hope y’all like this story!! Please let me know what you think… the feedback is what keeps me going :)

If you wanna be tagged, please send me an ask

About a Boy taglist:

@sdavid09 @deanssweetheart23 @blacktithe7 @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @cosicas-cuquis @chalicia @anathewierdo @mrswhozeewhatsis @protectteamfreewill @firefly124-writing @spnbaby-67 @hoboal87 @rizlow1 @donnaintx @starmission @gh0stgurl @tftumblin @emily-a-c11 @ericaprice2008 @jotink78 @charliebradbury1104 @ohgodwhybloggg @i-dont-get-cold @bobbie3939

#dean winchester fanfiction #spn fanfiction #dean fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #Ana writes Dean #Ana writes aab #aab 3 #anawrites #anawritesspn #q

65 notes · View notes

milasartblog · 4 years

Text

Report

Disclaimer!!!: This story will touch a theme about children again as after awful events that happened to children in the past, divinities were forced to create special rules to them. Lilith was the investigator of these rules and she makes sure everyone in hell respect them. The past events were erased from human's history.

Today was busy day for most of the citizens of Heaven. Some went to help young angels to get used to this place, some went to human world and solve stuff there, others were dealing with documents. Michael was not exception as an archangel and being the most responsible angel. Gabriel was on his guard post as usual while Raphael was with his family today.

Michael: Phew, so many documents to deal with. Seems like humans keep doing terrible actions more often. I wish they used their minds more often. Okay, this is the last paper for today and then maybe will pay a visit to my brothers.

As he was reading the last paper, he heard the knock on the door.

Michael: Yes?

???: May I come in? It’s Lucifer.

Michael: Oh, yes, of course! It’s opened.

And with such words Lucifer entered into the cabinet. But what Michael saw was kinda predictable, but also unexpected.

Michael: Ah, Lucifer, good to see-

Lucifer: Don’t ask, please.

Michael noticed two bags of ice hanging on Lucifer’s ears like headphones. He couldn’t help, but giggle a bit which made Lucifer growl in annoying anger.

Michael: Lilith, right?

Lucifer: Uuuuugghhh, don’t mention her name here, please. She is such monster, if you only knew.

Michael: Well, i guess you did something that made her angry again. Care to share with me, Luci?

Lucifer: Well, I honestly wanted to talk with you about something else, but since it is so connected with my case, i will start from the beginning.

And he told Michael everything what happened that day when he had a race with humans, about how he came across with one of Michael’s missing angels that were considered to be dead, about how this angel opened the portal to Hell, how the human almost died during the travel to Hell, and about the bet they made.

Lucifer: And after it, i made sure that humans got home safe and sound and-

But he couldn’t finish the sentence as Michael got up shocked.

Michael: Have you even thought about poor children outside?!

Lucifer: Lilith already lectured me, don’t worry.

Michael: I’m serious, what were you thinking??? What will be with poor innocent minds of this angels???

Lucifer: Michael, please calm down, I made sure that no children saw them being naked.

Michael: Are you really sure??? It was afternoon, Luci! It’s impossible to do such thing when there’s at least one child outside!

Lucifer: Mike, who do you think i’m? I’m divinity, I can erase people’s memory if need to, doesn’t matter child or adult, i can make sure that nobody can see this or that person, make them invisible. And you doubting me?

Michael: I just-

Lucifer: No children saw anything!

Michael:.......Sorry.

The uncomfortable pause covered them both. Even if that situation was solved peacefully, Michael was still worried for human children. And yet, he didn’t mean to distrust Lucifer and his actions. Michael looked down while Lucifer sighed deeply.

Lucifer: Anyways, what I really wanted to tell you is about that angel. I guess we still have a hope that they’re still alive.

Michael: Did you try to get him?

Lucifer: I wish I could if not that situation. But what made me stunned is that this angel was wearing weird clothes. Seems like he joined to somewhat cult or group.

Michael: Oh God......who could force him to do it?

Lucifer (in thoughts): “I don’t think he was forced to join. More like he was willing to join himself. Somebody whispered something to him and he easily agreed.....And I guess i know who it could be. But as much as I hate to do it, i need to check this theory”

Michael: We should organize a search group.

Lucifer: Too risky, Mike.

Michael: But why?

Lucifer: If we do it now, the “cult” maybe find out that something happened and maybe even try to escape to another place. If you worry about his condition, i doubt that they will kill him. Right now, we need to be cautious.

Michael: ....You’re right. I hurry things up way too much. I just....

He sighed deeply as tried to cool his mind.

Lucifer: We want our angels and demons back as much as you do, Mike. And we will bring them back, no matter what.

Michael: Yeah.

For couple of minutes they were silent, until Lucifer stood up, holding the bag of ice on his ear.

Lucifer: I will go and do my stuff for now.

Michael: Okay, I will let you know if i find out something about missing angels or demons.

Lucifer: Okay, will do the same.

And as he was about to go, Michael stopped him.

Michael: Wait, Luci.

Lucifer: Huh? What is it?

Michael: I......I’m sorry.

Lucifer: If you’re about that situation, don’t worry, I deserved it. Plus, you have a right to be mad at me~ And....even doubt me.

The last sentence he said a bit low, but quickly came back with casual smile.

Lucifer: I will see you around~

Michael: Okay, see you later.

And both came back to their usual tasks. Lucifer went back to Hell to take time and rest from “serious” lecture from Lilith, while Michael finished with the last paper. Even if Lucifer said that he deserved such punishment, he couldn’t help, but...feel sorry for doubting his powers. Sure, he did terrible thing without even thinking about consequences. But....isn’t it natural for demons? With such thoughts he went out of the cabinet and came back to his room.

-----------------------------

And that’s another story for our universe^^ Lucifer decided to tell Michael about that angel and seems like the hope appeared again in Michael’s heart. Is there a chance that they will actually find them?

Lucifer and Michael belong to @wildstarfan and @milasartblog (both me)

Okaria et Feria belongs to @wildstarfan @jenny626 and @captainthane

#my art #oc #oc character #lucifer #demon #michael #angel #report #missing angel #okaria et feria #doubt

14 notes · View notes

elcorhamletlive · 5 years

Link

fandom: MCU (non-powered AU) ship: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark tags: Fluff and Humor, Bad Flirting, Meet Ugly

“Don’t worry about it,” Tony slurs into his phone, trying to enunciate every word properly. “Yeah, I’m great.”

On the line, Happy doesn’t seem convinced – damn, Tony thought he had that sober speech on lock—and, to be honest, he shouldn’t be, because Tony is not great. Tony’s right outside of this sleazy, terribly expensive strip club Hammer decided to rent for the night, and he’s very much not sober. He knows that because, when he turns off the phone and rests his back against the wall and pretty much slips towards the floor, he has way less control of the movement than he thought he did, and his head slams against the wall painfully.

“Shit,” Tony says, blinking through white spots of pain. In a second a large, solid shadow looms over him. He looks up.

It’s an angel.

Okay, fine, it’s the club’s bouncer, who just dragged Tony out of the party when Hammer decided he wasn’t welcome anymore. But damn if the guy doesn’t look like an angel, with those azure eyes and blonde short hair and the prettiest mouth Tony’s ever seen.

“Are you okay?” he asks, voice sounding sincerely worried. Tony doesn’t answer, too busy taking in the way the man’s muscles fill out that otherwise hideously cheap-looking suit—his shoulders just go on forever, incredibly broad and apparently fighting to break through the fabric of his jacket.

The man crosses his arms, and, well, his biceps are fighting to get free too, very determinedly. Tony is rooting for them.

Angel/Bouncer keeps looking at him, and Tony realizes that, oh, yeah, that was a question, and questions usually require answers.

“I’m doing great.” He opens his arms and gesticulates towards himself. “This is not even in the top fifty of most unexpected ways I finished an evening.”

The man raises an eyebrow at him, as if he’s going to say something. He ends up just nodding, though, clasping his hands together in front of his body and eyeing Tony attentively.

“What are you doing here?” Tony tries to mimick him by raising an eyebrow, but he’s not sure if he manages or if he just scrunches up his face.

“Working.”

“Wow. Not a man of many words, are you?” Tony straightens his posture where he sits, laying an elbow on his knee to watch the man carefully. “Though, coming to think of it, why would you be? With a face like that, who needs a dumb little thing like human language?”

The man flushes, which, wow. If Tony dies and goes to heaven and it turns out that’s not what angels look like, he’s asking for a transfer.

“Come ooon, cherub, talk to me.” Tony stretches out his leg, nudging the man with his foot. “What’s your name? Gabriel? Raphael? Uriel? You look like a Uriel.”

“Steve,” Angel/Bouncer (apparently now Steve) says. “Steve Rogers.”

“Wow, that’s a terrible name. You really should consider changing it to Uriel.” Tony searches his pocket for a cigarette before remembering he doesn’t smoke. “Say, Steve Rogers, you don’t happen to keep a flask on you with something nice and strong to warm you up during these night shifts, huh?”

“I don’t drink.”

“Oh, of course you don’t. And especially not during work, I can imagine.” Tony tilts his head to get a better look at Steve’s face. “Do you own knives at home? Because you don’t need them, with a jaw like this. Anyway. I bet you’ve never had a sip of alcohol during work in your life. You take your job super seriously, I figure, because that’s the only way anyone can put up with the likes of me and Hammer sober.”

Steve’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Okay, not a talker, we’ve established that. But I must warn you, talking is among the top three things I’m great at—number one is building stuff, and number three I’m gonna leave to your imagination.” He winks, enjoying the way Steve’s flush deepens. “God, you’re adorable. Anyway, what was I saying? Oh, yeah, talking, yup, that’s my entire thing. I have a friend who tells me I say more words per minute than some people say during their whole lives. People like you, I imagine.” He nods in Steve’s general direction. “Point is, I’m gonna keep talking, so you might wanna head inside if you don’t want to hear it, sugar.”

Steve frowns. “I can’t just leave you out here.”

“Pretty sure you totally can, but this gentleman act is adorable, please keep it going.” Tony hugs his knees, resting his cheek on them as he turns his head to watch Steve. “Is that like, a thing you usually do? Look after the assholes they make you kick out?”

“You’re drunk.” Steve’s blue eyes find his, and his voice is firm when he says: “I’m gonna wait until your driver arrives.”

“God, that’s so—okay, I might swoon a little if you do that again, so let’s keep the noble act under control, ok?” He crosses his legs, the asphalt feeling cold through his pants. “Tell me about you. What do you do during daytime? Are you a model? You should consider modelling. Like, any type of modelling. I know what you’re thinking, and, yeah, definitely Calvin Klein, give them a call when you can – but, also, you could be the star of one of those motivational videos. Like, the guy who looks at the camera and talks about how important it is to have an exercise routine and healthy sleep? You’d be perfect for that. I’m looking at you now, and I already want to get my life together.”

Steve seems off-put, but then his lips curl into something that Tony vaguely recognizes as a repressed laugh.

“I’m serious. You could sell those green smoothies people post on Instagram. Or quinoa. I bet you like quinoa.”

“I hate quinoa,” Steve says, and Tony raises both of his eyebrows.

“That makes you ten times hotter,” he announces, and Steve’s flush deepens and his mouth curls further. “Also, no need to answer if you don’t want to, but, by any chance, are you gay? Because, I’m gonna be honest, this mouth of yours, it’s just, just, well, let’s be real, Steve, it was made to suck on something, and I’m not talking lollipops.” Steve’s eyes widen, and he lets out a shocked laugh. “Sorry, I’m kind of just thinking out loud, here. Am I making you uncomfortable? Feel free to pepper spray me at any moment.”

Steve laughs again. “No, it’s—It’s fine.”

“Great. Coming to think of it, you probably get this kind of thing all the time,” Tony makes a gesture towards where he thinks the door is, though he doesn’t look away from Steve to check. “Working here and all. No doubt some of those sleaze balls have tried to slip their numbers into your pocket. But you’re too nice to tell them off, just like you’re doing to me now. You’re such a nice guy, Steve. Also, by the way, when did your life go wrong?”

Steve’s laugh falters. “What?”

“Well, you’re working here, and you’re not a model despise looking like one, and you’re listening to me talk as if you’ve got nothing better to do, so I assume you don’t have anything interesting waiting for you at home. Besides, let’s be real, I doubt you dreamed of being a bouncer when you were little.”

Steve stays in silence for a moment, more serious than he’s been until now, until he answers: “I need money. To… to help a friend.”

“Oh, wow, how mysterious. Is your friend on the run from the law? Don’t worry, I won’t tell.”

“He needs a new prosthesis,” Steve says, and now his voice sounds colder.

“Oh. Oh wow.” Tony blinks at the sobering information. He’s definitely not in the right state of mind to look properly embarrassed, but that’s how he feels, deeply ashamed. “Shit, I’m sorry. I’m rambling over here and making jokes like…” He drags a hand over his face. Christ, what is he doing? Sitting on the street, chatting up a guy who’s working, and now probably offending him, too. He can fix this. Tony takes a sharp breath. “Where does your friend live?”

“What?”

“Ok, come to think of it, you don’t need to tell me. Just tell him to drop by the nearest Stark store. Have the manager call me and I’ll make sure he gets one exemplar of our newest line.”

Steve seems startled, blue eyes blinking and mouth opening and closing very quickly. “You can’t—Uh, Mr. Stark, you don’t need—“

Tony raises a hand. “Seriously. I know it sounds like drunk talk, and, okay, technically it is drunk talk since I’m drunk and I’m, you know, talking, but I mean it. You don’t have to believe me, but at least tell your friend to give it a shot.”

Steve looks at him for a moment in silence, and Tony imagines he might still not be certain he’s serious. Well, whatever, Tony thinks. He will see it’s true if he tries. “We can’t afford any of your models.”

Tony makes a flippant gesture. “Consider it payment for not suing me for sexual harassment. And also, for your delightful company and this enriching talk we’re having.”

The corner of Steve’s mouth twists upwards in a smile. “I haven’t really said much.”

“Exactly! My favorite type of talk.” Tony snaps his fingers and tries to finger gun at him, but the shape doesn’t come very naturally, so he’s pretty sure he just points two fingers randomly in Steve’s direction. “Plus, you’ve got a calming presence. You should be a yoga instructor.”

It might be the alcohol, but Tony sees a glimpse of cheekiness in Steve’s smile. “Do you think I’m flexible enough for that?”

“In my dreams you are, very much so, yes,” Tony answers immediately, and Steve laughs. “So, I’m here finding tons of new careers for you – model, life coach, yoga instructor -, but you haven’t told me what you do for a living yet.”

Steve eyes him for a moment, seeming to think.

“I teach.”

“Oh, my God.” Tony dramatically lays his hand on his chest. “No way. Like, in a classroom, wearing glasses, closing the door and going let’s see how much you want to improve those grades teaching?” Steve lets out another laugh that’s half shock and half amusement, and Tony likes it. “If you say you teach math, I might swoon.”

Steve raises an eyebrow at him. “Math turns you on?”

“Math is the hottest thing in the universe and should turn everybody on.”

“…Okay.” Steve stares at him with an amused smile. “I’m an art teacher. Only extracurricular classes, though. Mostly for kindergartens.”

“Oooh. So, no hot detention threats, then.” Tony tilts his head, giving him a thoughtful glance. “You’re an artist. You probably spend most of your time in your cluttered apartment that smells suspiciously herbal, agonizing over finding the perfect shading for your half-done painting that takes half of the room.”

“Yeah. Exactly. That’s exactly what I do.”

“On your breaks, you write poetry. Shirtless.”

“Yup. I also used to have dreadlocks, which I shaved off,” Steve deadpans. “You’ve never met a teacher, have you?”

“Not really. Please, enlighten me about your regular schedule.”

“There’s not much to tell. I teach my class three times a week. The rest of the time I spend setting up activities for the kids. I also draw for a couple small comics, but nothing that pays much. Most of the kids’ families aren’t very well-off. Sometimes they can’t afford to pay for a few months, so I take bouncer jobs when I need extra money.” Steve puts his hands in his pockets, shifting a little under Tony’s gaze. Tony gets the feeling he’s not used to being stared at, which, wow, talk about something unacceptable. “I share my apartment with the friend I told you about. I do most of the cleaning, Buck’s a slob.” He shrugs. “That’s pretty much it.”

“I’m just gonna imagine you doing all of that shirtless, too,” Tony says, mostly just to get Steve to smile again, which he does. Score. “So you work as a bouncer to get your friend a new prosthesis, and to teach impoverished children for free?” Saying it makes his heart rush, so he needs to add, in a lighter tone: “What else do you do, multiply bread?”

“Not really,” Steve says, not missing a beat. “But sometimes I draw political cartoons. One of them went viral last month, maybe you’ve seen it.”

It’s Tony’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “I don’t really spend my free time on twitter, sweetheart. What was it about?”

“Punching nazis.“

Tony nods. “Cheerful.”

“It’s an instruction manual on the right way to do it,” Steve adds, and he seems proud of himself. “How to close your fist properly so it doesn’t hurt your hand and etc.”

Tony laughs. Man, he thinks, shaking his head. Humanitarian artist by day, bouncer by night, fighter against fascism in his free time – Tony wonders, not for the first time this evening, if the man he’s talking to is actually real.

“That’s hot,” is all he manages to say. “I mean, it’s an important political stance, but also, it’s, well – it’s very hot.”

Steve smiles. “Thanks. What about you?”

“Me? Oh, well, regular stuff.” Tony waves a hand in the air. “Run a billion-dollar company, go to parties for complete jerks, get thrown out of said parties and chat up the bouncer – these sort of things.”

“Right,” Steve says, but he doesn’t seem fully satisfied. “You really annoyed Mr. Hammer.”

“Did I? I barely remember what I said. This will shock you, I’m sure, but I say a lot of things without thinking them through.”

“Well, you brought up his lawsuit right after he offered to buy you a round,” Steve says, not sounding at all disapproving. “Also, you kept calling him Jack.”

“Eh,” Tony shrugs. “Maybe if he paid his employees a tenth of what he spent just with strippers tonight, I’d bother remembering his name.” He runs a hand through his hair, suddenly feeling very tired. “I didn’t even want to come tonight. But Pep – she’s my P.A., so she kind of rules my life – said it’s important, that I need to keep good relations, especially now that we’re changing directions and yadda yadda.”

Steve looks at him with an expression Tony can’t quite figure out. “I read about that.”

“About the worst business decision of the decade? Yeah, you and the entire world.”

There’s a beat, and then Steve asks: “Do you regret it?”

“Not having any more dead people on my back? No, not at all,” Tony says immediately. It’s an easy answer. They could go bankrupt, and he still wouldn’t regret it. “The board freaked out, but, honestly, this doesn’t matter. At the end of the day, they need me to make the things they want to sell, and I’m not making weapons. I don’t care how much Dad loved them, I just won’t.”

Steve stays in silence for a moment. Then he turns towards Tony entirely, hands coming out of his pockets and hanging in fists at his sides. “I think it was a really brave thing to do.”

His eyes are incredibly blue, reflexing the dim light coming from the club’s windows, and, God, it’s like an attack of earnestness. Part of Tony wants to run away, and the other part wants to propose.

“Thank you?”

Steve smiles. Then he flushes, apparently realizing his strong reaction, and rubs the back of his neck. “So, why is your driver so late?”

“He’s not. He was supposed to come pick me up at three, and he’s probably catching up on his TV shows now, I don’t want to interrupt him.”

Steve’s eyes widen. “So you just sit here?” He takes his phone off his pocket. “It’s—it’s still two o’clock. You’re just going to… Sit here and wait until he comes?”

“Yeah? Sounded like a good idea, like, fifteen minutes ago,” Tony says. He yawns, his drunkenness apparently reaching its sleepy stage. His eyes feel very heavy. “No offense to our wonderful talk, but I think I might take a nap. I’d say feel free to come inside and do something more fun than standing here watching me snore, but by now I already know you’re too nice for that.”

Steve seems shocked for a moment, then he smiles slowly. “You really think that?”

“Um, yeah? I mean, come on. You're like an actual angel and you’re still somehow bashful about it. Your mean streak is apparently reserved for nazis. You’d stand there and watch over me to make sure nothing happens. Plus, you listened to me rant and hit on you endlessly, despite the fact that you probably meet about a dozen different guys exactly like me every day.”

Steve’s face softens. “No, I don’t,” he says, but it’s low enough that Tony thinks he might be imagining it.

“Anyway,” Tony yaws again, resting his back against the wall and closing his eyes. “Nice to meet you, Steve. Good talk.”

When Tony blinks his eyes open, the first thing he thinks is that he’s feeling great. Which is an unusual feeling to get after a night of drinking and sleeping on the sidewalk.

The second thing he thinks is that this is one hell of a comfortable sidewalk.

“Mr. Stark?” A voice calls. “Uh, Tony?”

He opens his eyes slowly, and realizes he’s not on the sidewalk anymore. He’s on a couch, a very comfortable one, with a very large and warm blanket – actually, it’s a jacket—over him.

A man—a very handsome man—is hovering over him.

“Uh, sorry to wake you up. It’s just, your driver is here.”

And then it hits him.

Wow, that’s a terrible name. Number three I’m gonna leave to your imagination. This mouth of yours, it’s just, just, well, let’s be real, Steve, it was made to suck on something. Math is the hottest thing in the universe. When did your life go wrong?

Tony drags a hand over his face, mind going through the litany of terribly embarrassing things he had said.

“Kill me,” Tony thinks aloud, and Steve raises his eyebrows. Tony turns around, doing his best to not stare at Steve’s face – Jesus, he talked about his mouth, that’s just… “Where am I?”

“In the break room,” Steve says, and that only makes Tony’s face flush with more embarrassment, because, God, Steve was working. He was having a regular night until Tony swooped in to be entirely inappropriate and freak him out. It’s an actual miracle, and a testament of Steve’s niceness, that Tony didn’t wake up in a police station with a restraining order.

Then Steve takes the jacket off him, slipping it over his own (very broad) shoulders.

It’s—It’s his jacket. That he gave Tony to keep him warm.

Tony’s face is burning.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, when Steve tries to help him stand. “God, I’m so – so, so sorry. I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am. That’s—shit, ok, I wish I could say that’s so unlike me, but it’s not unlike me at all, to be honest.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Still, you didn’t deserve that.

Steve just stares at him and then smiles. “It’s okay,” he says, putting his hands in his pockets. “I had a nice time.”

He sounds so sincere Tony’s mental self-flagellating stops for a moment, and there’s a beat as they stare at each other, before Steve coughs.

“Uh, your driver,” he says, and Tony stands up suddenly.

“Of course.”

“Don’t forget your phone.” Steve turns to pick it from a table, handing it to him. “It fell out when I was carrying you.”

He probably means carrying Tony like one would regularly carry a drunk person (i.e. practically dragging them), but of course Tony’s stupid head has to imagine a bridal carry or something, and it feels like a bunch of engines twirl happily in his stomach. God, he’s pathetic.

“Right,” he says, taking the phone and placing it in his pocket. “Thank you, and, again, I’m so sorry.”

Steve nods, his face flushing strangely, but when Tony turns to leave, he grabs his arm.

“Actually, I’m—“ Steve stammers, seeming more nervous than he looked all night, even when Tony was waxing lyrical about his dick-sucking lips. “I might, uh, have programmed my number in there.”

It feels like the world shifts at Tony’s feet, for a moment. “What?”

Steve rubs the back of his neck, smiling bashfully. “Like I said, I had a nice time. It was really fun.” His smile grows, and he shifts a little. “I’d really like to see you again. But, uh, if you think maybe that’s too forward—“

“Too forward? You think you may be being a little too forward?” Tony says incredulously, trying to fight the huge grin that’s threatening to slip out at every word. “Did you hear a single word I said last night?”

Steve laughs. His laugh sounds even more amazing when Tony can hear it without the mist of alcohol. “I liked hearing it,” he says, shrugging. Then his smile gains that cheekiness, and, damn, it might be the first time in his life Tony met someone who looks better without alcohol goggles. “Wouldn’t mind hearing some more.”

“Well,” Tony says, a little high-pitched and less suave than he’d like, but he doesn’t really care. He slides his hand into his pocket, playing with his phone, fiddling with it as if it’s the most interesting object in the world, because, with Steve’s number in it, it totally is. “I’m never one to refuse talking.”

Steve’s smile is large and brighter than the sun. “I figured.”

#stony #stevetony #superhusbands #stony fic #happy steve bingo #my fics

197 notes · View notes

astralgabriel · 6 years

Text

like glass unshattering (part 1/4)

so, i finally wrote my take on a 13x13 fix-it - also posted here on ao3

“You better not be wasting our time, Ketch,” Dean bit out, leaning forward out his chair. Ketch let out a short, amused huff from where he sat opposite, and shook his head.

“Trust me, Winchester, I’m putting my own life on the line here,” Ketch said, holding his poker face. Castiel regarded him carefully, and Arthur felt vaguely uncomfortable under his unblinking stare; Sam watched him, too, but there was a more distant look behind his eyes. “Asmodeus revealed the ace up his sleeve, and he- I have limits. That crossed the line.”

Dean frowned, his brow furrowing. “Spit it out already.”

“I want to make a deal first,” Ketch replied, interlacing his fingers atop the table as he lifted his chin. “I want protection.”

It was Sam’s turn to chime in as his mouth pulled into a confused grimace. “Protection? From what? And why would we help you, anyway?”

“Asmodeus will know it was me - I doubt he flaunts his prized toy to the masses,” Ketch said, wincing slightly at the undertone of bitterness he heard laced in his own words. He prided himself on his ability to emotionally detach with ease, and yet the horror that swelled in his stomach when he first peered within the cell, the sadness at seeing something so holy being baselesly corrupted, he couldn’t shake it.

Dean glanced at Sam, who gave a slight shrug, then to Castiel, who simply tilted his head, his cool, collected expression still very much in place. Dean pinched the bridge of his nose then sighed. “Fine. Whatever. It’s not like we’re in any position to turn away help, but this better be worth it.”

“Asmodeus has somehow obtained an archangel blade.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes and said, “A worrying development, but unless-”

“Unless wielded by an archangel, useless, I’m aware,” Ketch cut in, flashing a cold smirk. Castiel’s lips tightened into a scowl, but he remained quiet. “Which leads me to the more pressing matter at hand - the archangel he’s currently trying to… train.”

Sam looked more alert at that, clenching his jaw as he glanced at Dean and Castiel - Dean was a picture of disbelief and resignation, whereas Castiel wore barely concealed horror. “Who?”

“God’s Messenger, the archangel Gabriel.”

“You’re lying,” Castiel said, his voice low, daring Ketch to argue back. “My brother is dead. I felt it. I saw his body.”

Ketch shrugged, attempting to convey a false nonchalance under the Seraph’s sharp glare. “Come look for yourself, angel. It wouldn’t benefit me at all to lie to you.”

Castiel rounded on Ketch, and pressed his fingers sharply against the hunter’s head; Ketch slumped back against his chair as Castiel closed his eyes, scowling. The moment said scowl faltered and Castiel paled, Dean was up out of his seat and gripping his shoulders.

“Cas? What is it?”

“No… No,” Castiel said, though his voice lacked the absolute certainty it had before. His hand dropped limply from Ketch’s forehead to his side, and Castiel opened his eyes, glancing around with a wild urgency. “It can’t be. He’s dead.”

Ketch drew in a heavy breath, regathering himself. “I promise you, he’s not dead. How is beyond me, but Gabriel is very much alive.”

Sam watched Dean pull Castiel to the side, heard them talking in rushed low mutterings, but didn’t even attempt to eavesdrop. Instead, he traced along the scar on his palm with his thumb. His own experiences with Hell, combined with Castiel’s rather worrying reaction prompted his mind to run wild down a rather dark path.

He’d always hoped that, somehow, Gabriel had survived the encounter with Lucifer, that he’d had yet another absurd back up plan. Had even prayed a few times, when things had gotten rather dire. That hope had dimmed over time, almost put out completely when Chuck declared him dead, but if there was someone who could cheat death and hide from God, Sam figured it’d be Gabriel.

This, though, was a fate worse than death. Whilst Sam wasn’t sure he could ever truly shake the impact of Mystery Spot, he had come to understand Gabriel’s motivations and his desperate love for family. But he understood. He knew how family could drive you to extremes, could make you do things you’d never consider.

He understood, and that was close enough to forgiveness.

“Two days,” Dean said, snapping Sam out of his thoughts. “Two days to everything-proof the Bunker, prep for a supernatural lockdown, then we go save us an archangel.”

The following two days passed by in a flurry of activity.

Sam and Castiel spent most of their time in the library, pouring through tome after ancient tome for any new sigils they could put up. A brief phone call to Rowena had her agreeing to meet them at the bunker and help - a friend of the Winchesters was a friend of hers now, and the possibility of finally being rid of Lucifer, of finally being able to sleep without being gripped by fear was too much to pass up on.

An even briefer phone call to Jody let her know that they would probably be radio silent for a short while, and that there was no need for a search and rescue. She hadn’t pressed the matter, but had assured Sam that if there was any way she could help, she was just a phone call away.

Dean had insisted that Ketch shadowed his every move, just so he could keep a close watch. He wasn’t a huge fan of having to work alongside Ketch, wary of said hunter’s fickle loyalties, but Ketch had complied with a simple shrug and hadn’t stepped out of line.

They dealt with the more practical aspect of preparing to lock down, making several trips to the local shops to stock up on essentials and non-perishables. Ketch had gone as far as to insisting to cover most of the costs, assuring them that it would barely make a scratch on his inheritance fund.

The night before they had sat down, gathered about the same table Ketch had broken the news over.

“Our best bet is to enter through a portal based here,” Ketch said, tapping on the map spread between them. “Asmodeus has several set up - this one is about a three hour drive from here, and leads into a rather empty section of Hell.”

Dean took a swig from his beer, tracing the highways and roads with his eyes. “How far is it from the portal to Gabriel?” Castiel asked.

“Twenty minutes there, thirty back.”

“And you definitely know the way?”

Ketch lifted his chin and glared across at Sam. “I’ll have you know my navigation skills are excellent, even in other realms. I suppose you’ll just have to trust me.”

Dean let out an amused snort at that, but didn’t comment.

Sam was the first to retire shortly after that, saying he’d like a full night’s sleep before their daring rescue mission. Ketch had agreed, and wandered off to his temporary room, leaving Dean and Castiel alone at the table.

Dean watched the angel as he studied the map a little too intently, and frowned. “Cas?” “Hm?” Castiel responded, lifting his head.

“You okay?”

Castiel furrowed his brow at that. “I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

Dean paused for a moment, placing his bottle down with a soft thump. “You found out your dead brother is actually not dead, and is a captive in Hell. Even if you weren’t close, that’s rough.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah, ah. So talk to me.”

“I… am worried. I am worried about what we will find, and I am worried that the Gabriel we know is gone,” Castiel said eventually, choosing to look back down at the map. A ghost of a smile spread across his lips. “Where Michael, Raphael and Lucifer were generals of Heaven, Gabriel was our older brother. He had a hand in our upbringing, more so than our Father or the other three.”

Dean nodded, holding his tongue till Castiel looked up. “I get it, I do. But if anyone can bounce back, it’s him. And I may not be his biggest fan, but we’ll all be there to help.”

Castiel smiled warmly at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and Dean felt something tighten in his chest. “Thank you, Dean.”

#supernatural #destiel #sabriel #gabriel #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #arthur ketch #my writing #like glass shattering

15 notes · View notes

nicolabarth · 6 years

Text

Timestamps: So, he shot a guy for you?

Pairing: Dean/Michael, Sam/Lucifer

Rating: Teen

Summary: This are three timestamps for Undone that happened because of comments. It’s @askatosch’s fault again of course. I almost didn’t post this, but @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell told me I should.

Read it on AO3

“It’s done,” Michael says, phone on his ear. It’s way too late, but they’re still in Dean’s office working, because they both hardly know how to do anything but work.

Of course Dean knows what his boyfriend is talking about. Lucifer has killed the guy that could’ve ruined everything for them. And it’s not that Dean approves of murder, but he breathes a sigh of relief.

“Wait,” Michael says into the phone. “I’ll put you on speaker.”

He does, and a moment later Lucifer’s voice comes from the phone. “Dean, you have to get your ass over here and check on your brother as soon as possible.”

That sounds less good, Dean exchanges a worried look with Michael. “What did you do, Lucifer?”

“I didn’t do anything, but he shot a guy!”

What the hell? “What? How did you make him shoot a guy?”

“Stop fucking blaming me! He did it all by himself to protect your sorry ass!”

“What the hell, Sammy?” Dean murmurs, but he’s already on his feet, grabbing the duffle bag that’s standing in the corner of his office. Old habits die hard. And if Sam really shot someone, that had probably done a number on him. He needs someone there. Dean bends down to kiss Michael, but when he heads for the office door to tell Kevin he’ll have to manage the bar by himself for a while, Lucifer’s voice comes from the speaker again: “It was pretty hot, to be honest.”

Dean turns in time to see Michael shake his head in amusement. “Dude, he’s my brother! Could you not?”

“Tough luck, Dean. There are a lot of things I don’t want to hear about my brother either. Starting with how you shout his name during sex so the whole fucking house can hear it. So deal with it.”

Michael leans back, looking just a tiny bit smug now. “Well done, Lucifer. I expect you back for a more detailed debriefing by tomorrow.” Then he turns towards Dean. “Let me know, if you need anything.”

Dean gives a mock salute, then he’s out.

Raphael: Did he really shoot a guy for you?

Lucifer: Who told you that?

Raphael: Gabriel, who else? He also said he had to delete security footage of you two making out in a cell.

Lucifer: There was a camera there, too? Damn.

Raphael: You’re getting careless.

Lucifer: Want to tell me next that I shouldn’t go for a cop?

Raphael: After what he did? Hell no. Just stop pining. If you gush about how hot he looks when he’s in murder mode one more time, I’m going to strangle you in your sleep.

Lucifer: I don’t gush.

Raphael: Sure. By the way, there are rumors your cop crush will be resigning soon.

Lucifer: How do you know before me?

Raphael: Gabriel and me are keeping tabs on what’s happening in his precinct in case anyone recognized you.

Lucifer: So you’re stalking him.

Raphael: Indirectly. Anyway, that means he has no reason to keep away from you anymore. That’s your chance. Don’t screw it up, Lucifer. No one wants to see you moping.

Lucifer: I feel so loved.

Raphael: You should. Good luck.

Raphael: Good luck from Gabriel, too. He also wants to inform you that if you don’t make a move, he will.

Lucifer: Tell our dear brother, if he wants to keep all his body parts, he better stays away from Sam Winchester.

Raphael: He read that, he called it cute.

Lucifer: Fuck both of you.

Raphael: At least you don’t have to watch your whole family going crazy over Winchesters.

Lucifer: I heard there’s a third brother. Well, half-brother. Maybe you should try it, too.

Raphael: Fuck you, Lucifer. But seriously, good luck.

“I’m glad you’re back, Sammy.” Dean pulls his brother in a bear hug.

Sam looks around the house. Not much has changed since he ran away. He had never thought he’d come back here, but things never go as planned. “I’m not sure, if I’m glad I’m back yet, but it’s good to see you again.”

Dean smiles somewhat ruefully. “Come on in. There’s someone here, who’ll be very happy to see you, too.”

Tagging: @askatosch @brieflymaximumprincess @helpimanspnfan @humongouscandycoffee @schizonephilim @coffee-queen448 @spn-you-idjits @samwise-the-true-hero @i-bleed-salt@hooker-legs@consultingmooseintimeandspace@ravestablook@shebahda@savagearchangelforthewin2-0 @me-fangirl@hardcorefangirlgroupie@thisisnotsteva@wearemykingdom @talkmagically @secretlydaydreaminglifeaway @cat-n-claw @oleszka123 @coplins

#samifer #michean #timestamp

35 notes · View notes

nammyneutron · 7 years

Text

Scars

‘Scars - Allison Iraheta’

Summary: Lucifer sings in a bar, deciding to get something off his chest to people who don't know the significance of anything about it, but unknowingly to him, Chuck sits in the bar like any other night. Chuck would know that voice anywhere. (This is before Chuck is revealed to be God.)

Pairings: None

No Warnings

Cross-Posted on AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11001351/chapters/24526761

Lucifer was on a mission, that was true. It was one that the Winchester's seemed intent on destroying, and maybe for good reason, considering that he was going to completely wipe the human race from the beautiful world that his father had created.

His father.

Thinking about him still made Lucifer sad and angry.

He looked around him at the various humans milling around, giving a chuckle. In truth, he was much like them. Sad and angry all the time, waiting for a fight. He frowned, remembering his brother, Gabriel.

Oh, Gabriel. I wasn't ready, I didn't mean to-

How he would take it all back. Lucifer wished he could.

But once an angel dies, archangel or not, only God could bring them back, and it seemed that God didn't want to be found.

Not by him, anyway.

He walks the streets, temporarily distracted by buildings and names. One says, "Joel's Karaoke Bar," and Lucifer thinks it's kind of interesting. Might as well have some fun with 'em before I end them, he thought.

Lucifer slips in unnoticed, and not one of the mud-monkeys looks up when he goes on stage. Despite his long-lasting anger at them, he dismisses it.

It's not like they'll be alive to remember him anyway.

Rather than bothering to try and figure out modern human technology, he snaps his fingers and it turns on, and with another snap, the perfect song comes on and the mic is in his hand. Finding the perfect song with his grace came easily to him because after all, angels were the first to create music.

The perfect song starts with soft acoustic guitar and Lucifer kind of smiles as he starts to sing. "Did I say something stupid? There goes one more mistake..." The bar is stunned into silence the moment he begins, all heads turning his way, and for a moment Lucifer is suddenly uncharacteristically shy, hesitating. But he keeps it up, singing shakily but beautifully, "Do I bore you with my problems? Is that why you turn away?"

Michael barely looks up from his work as Lucifer toddles in, small wings fluttering with every step. "Mikey?" he hears the little angel ask softly. "No, Lucifer," Michael replies in monotone. Lucifer gains a hurt look that Michael never saw, but just as quickly as it arrived, it was gone. "You didn't even hear what I was gonna ask!" he complains.

Michael sighs before turning to face him. "You were going to ask about Father, if he was going to come home anytime soon, and he's not."

Lucifer's wings droop, and almost immediately Michael feels bad, but now there's nothing he can do. "I was just going to ask for a story... but I guess you're busy." He starts to leave, but for a moment, he stops and turns to look at Michael.

He's already back to work like Lucifer had never walked in in the first place. "Do you know how hard I've tried to become what you want me to be?" He sings, and it's like he's a child all over again, just a fledgling. Suddenly he misses Dad, Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael. He misses all of his brothers and sisters. He feels the pain of all of the fallen angels, the ones that never made it home because they were killed by another sibling.He remembers trying to be the angel he was made to be. He remembers being in the cage and pleading for his Father to save him from the flames.

He never came.

Lucifer promised himself he would never need his Father again.

And yet, in this odd human place, he offers himself up once again.

"Take me, this is all that I've got. This is all that I'm not, all that I'll ever be..."

Lucifer's eyes drift to his feet. "I've got flaws, I've got faults, keep searching for your perfect heart!" The feeling of never being enough bleeds into his voice and every single human in this bar would never forget the sound. Lucifer looks at all of them. They could be forgiven. Why couldn't he? "It doesn't matter who you are... We all have our scars, we all have our scars," he sings softly.

He looks up at the crowd defiantly as he paces the stage, mic in hand. "You say don't act like a child... but what if it's a father I need?" He hears a soft gasp from the crowd, and his sharp eyes narrow on one man. He was short and had curly gray-ish hair, and he sits at the bar, a half-empty glass in his hand. His eyes hold to some greater pain, something ancient. Lucifer keeps his eyes locked to his as he sings, "It's not like you don't know what you got yourself into. Don't tell me I'm the one who's naïve!" Lucifer moves closer to the edge of the stage, finding himself angry at this man.

It feels incredibly personal when he sings, "Do you know how hard I've tried to become what you want me to be?"

Chuck swallows. It's almost like Lucifer knows, staring at him with accusing eyes, and God, he feels guilty. Like every choice he's made is ready to swallow him up and end his existence right then and there.

The truth was that Lucifer was already everything he wanted him to be.

The ultimate sacrifice.

And here he is, singing, "Take me, this is all that I've got. This is all that I'm not, all that I'll ever be. I've got flaws, I've got faults, keep searching for your perfect heart!" He almost spits out the lyrics at this tiny, drunk, disheveled man and he almost feels sorry for the guy but at the same time, there's such a strong dislike in him for the stranger that he can't help himself.

"It doesn't matter who you are, we all have our scars, we all have our scars..." Lucifer thinks of Michael, daddy's little soldier. He followed Father's every world.

Perfect to a fault.

Lucifer and Michael were both in their true forms when Lucifer was to be thrown into the pit. Lucifer had held onto Michael's arms with what would have been claws, and begged and pleaded for him please don't do this I love you I'm sorry I'll be better-

Michael struck him down into the pit that day, but he would never be able to get rid of the moon crescent marks down his arms where Lucifer had held on for dear life.

"Come on, just let it go. These are things you can't control. Your expectations, your explanations don't make sense to me!" God's plan never made sense to Lucifer. The never have and they never would. He gave Lucifer the mark, and banished him when he became evil. What else was the mark supposed to do?

He stares at this stupid man in this stupid bar and he finds himself confessing everything he's ever felt. "You and your alternatives, don't send me to your therapist! Deep down I know what you mean, and I'm not sure that's who I wanna be..."

Lucifer's not sure if he wants to fight his brother.

He's not sure if he wants to obliviate the human race.

He's not sure he wants to live.

He's not sure he wants to die.

"Oh, oh, no..."

Lucifer collapses to his knees in front of his father.

"Take me. This is all that I've got, this is all that I'm not, all that I'll ever be. I've got flaws, I've got faults! Keep searching for your perfect heart!"

Chuck looks him in the eye and knows that Lucifer knows.

His perfect Morningstar, his most beloved son.

"We all have our scars."

Lucifer looks down at his knees, still kneeling in front of the room.

His voice is almost a whisper.

"Did I say something stupid?"

He looks up, ice blue eyes capturing Chuck's ones.

"There goes one more mistake..."

3 notes · View notes

sageclover61 · 6 years

Text

War of Illusion part 7/8

The prior parts of this story can be found at the following link: http://sageclover61.tumblr.com/post/176111579487/spn-fic-prompt

Part 7 was already posted, but due to this prompt fill being written out of order, a little bit was added after it was posted that needed to have its own warnings included.

Trigger Warning: Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts

Word Count: 3744 Words

Story and tag list below the cut.

When he landed, Sam was sitting on the floor in front of the couch, smiling widely, a half empty bottle of scotch next to him, amid a myriad of other bottles. It took awhile for Gabriel to figure out how to react. “Hey Sam, what are you doing down there?” he asked, perching on the couch and looking down at his older brother as his head slowly fell to lean against Gabriel’s leg.

Sam laughed bitterly, reaching clumsily for the bottle to take another drink from it. “-fell offa the couch.” His voice slurred, and Gabriel nodded softly.

“And why would you do something like that? The floor doesn't seem anywhere near as comfy as the couch, or a bed, or basically anything else.” Gabe hated that Sam was so hurt by the death of Dean that he felt the need to drink so much, and he really did hope that his plan regarding introducing Sam to Adam would help, but he couldn’t do that if Sam was drunk off his ass. There was just no sense in trying to reason with a drunk Winchester, regardless of which one it was.

Sam mumbled something that was indecipherable, a hand slowly reaching around to grab at Gabriel’s pant leg as he leaned more of his weight on him. “‘It’s Dean’s birthday, an’ I didn’ wanna be upset, but then I just started drinkin’ an’ now I can’t be upset, but I don’ wanna be like this, but I don’ know what to do an’ I don’ wanna be sad but I’m always sad if I don’ drink, but if I don’ drink than I just feel worse and then I start wantin; to jus’ end it, but then everyone else will be sad, and I don’ wanna make everyone sad, but I do anyway when I drink, and…” Sam carried on for a while, unaware that he was repeating himself in his drunken state.

Gabriel’s heart broke for his brother, knowing that this was a combination of Sam’s own sorrow at the loss of Dean, and Lucifer’s deep seated regret for the actions that had led to both him and Michael running from their home to escape the wrath of a Father that claimed to have endless mercy and love for all, yet still threatened death to the one he had once said he loved the most.

It would have been hard enough to deal with everything had it only been Sam’s sorrow, but the recent acquisition of all of Lucifer’s memories had only made the problem worse. And from the look of things, Sam had seen no other option to cope with his pain than to drown it in a bottle before it grew so great that he would see fit to join his brother in Hell.

With a heavy sigh, Gabriel carefully stood, bending down to pick Sam up, paying no mind to the size difference. There was no way that Sam would be able to stand on his own, let alone walk all the way from the couch to the bed, where Gabriel wanted him. “Come on kiddo, that’s more than enough drinking for today. It’s time for you to sleep some of this off before you say or do anything else that you’ll regret later.”

Sam was still mumbling as Gabriel laid him on the bed, only pausing to yawn, before reaching out and grabbing at Gabriel’s shirt and pulling at it. “Oh Sam, you’re breaking my heart here. Alright, move over. I’m not leaving, I promise. Not after what you just admitted.” Shifting Sam over so he could sit next to him, Gabriel smiled sadly as the tall man tried his hardest to get as close to him as possible, slowly falling into a light doze.

There was so much that needed to be done, not only to attempt to prepare for when Dean would return from Hell, but also to even attempt to begin to help Sam recover from the vast amount of pain that he had suffered over his lifetime, as well as from his recently remembered past as Lucifer, that Gabriel didn’t even know where to begin. All he could do was hope that trying to bring Adam into Sam’s life would make things a touch better, but even that was a long stretch. He had tried his hardest, but he couldn’t try to keep Sam afloat any longer by himself. Sam needed Dean, even more than Lucifer had needed Michael all those years ago in Heaven, but there was no way for Gabriel to free Dean without incurring vastly more problems for everyone involved.

But as Sam shifted, burying his head in Gabriel’s side, Gabriel shook his head, running a hand through his hair. There would be plenty enough time to struggle to find a way to keep Sam afloat tomorrow. For tonight, he would watch over Sam, and in the morning, he would take him to meet Adam. And after that?

Well, only the future would tell.

“You’re probably not going to like this, but you should know about it.” Gabriel wasn’t quite sure how to phrase it. How did you tell someone they had a half sibling they’d never known about? He had waited for Sam to wake up, and the hunter had even left his room without being asked, dragged, or threatened.

There was a movie playing in the background, but Sam didn’t know what movie it was. He was lying on the couch staring at his eyelids. He did that a lot, but he never saw what he was looking for. No surprises there. Sam opened his eyes and looked over at Gabriel. “Yeah?”

Gabriel walked over to the couch and sat down on the arm by Sam’s head. Sam’s legs were taking up all the rest of the couch. “When you and Dean were kids, John got involved with a woman when he was on a hunt and had another kid.”

Sam frowned. “Really?”

“He’s a good kid, name’s Adam. He graduated early, top of his class, and now he’s attending medical school. No one told him and his mother that John Winchester died. You guys don’t exactly have a list of people to notify in case of emergency. I gave him my condolences and mentioned he’s not the only child of John Winchester. He’s willing to meet you and I think you should.”

Sam agreed, so Gabriel flew him directly to the front porch of the Milligan household. “He’s expecting us,” Gabriel whispered when Sam tensed.

The front door flew open. “You must be Sam!” the teenager exclaimed. “I’m Adam!”

Sam gave the kid a weak smile and held out a hand. “Yes, I am Sam. It’s nice to meet you, Adam.”

Adam shook the proffered hand. “Did Gabriel mention I have a ghoul problem?”

“He did,” Sam replied. “I was curious about how you knew it was a ghoul.”

“Dad met Mom when she stitched him up after he’d hunted a ghoul, so I’ve done research on them. It seems highly coincidental that there would be more, but Dad only killed one and for how obvious they were being, I’d guess there were more. In some of my research, I found something about how they'll seek revenge if a family member is killed, which could explain why they’re here. I think they’ve been following me and Mom. She didn’t come home from work last night.”

Sam nodded. “May we come inside?”

“Of course.” Adam led the way towards the living room.

Sam hung back, whispering to Gabriel. “You’re sure he’s not a ghoul?”

Adam pretended not to hear and Gabriel answered, “Of course he isn’t. I already checked.”

“And the ghoul story?”

“For what it’s worth, I think there’s two. But I’m not doing your hunting for you. I think it’ll be a good bonding experience between you and your brother.” Gabriel sped up, forcing Sam to move faster.

Adam sat in the chair again and Gabriel crowded Sam on the couch. “I’ve done some research for the area. There’s been reports of frequent grave robbing.”

“That would fit with the idea that it’s ghouls,” Sam agreed. “They’re scavengers, but they can shapeshift to look like anything they’ve eaten, whether it’s bodies of the deceased or people they’ve attacked even if they don’t kill.”

“If they’re scavengers, why would they come after me and Mom?” Adam asked.

“Most likely for the reason you suspected: Revenge.They could also intend to use you to get to John. He’s dead, but they don’t know that.”

“How do you think we should hunt them?” Adam asked.

Sam looked at Adam and what he was was a kid who wanted to make everyone happy. Curses on John Winchester for introducing him to this life. Curses on him for ever having children. He wanted to tell his brother that he would handle it, but that would be unfair for other reasons. The kid wanted to help. So he’d have to let him and keep him safe. “They have to be killed by decapitation.” He smiled sadly. “Dean, my older brother, his favorite way was bashing in their brains. But decapitation is better, more thorough. But first we have to find them.”

Adam nodded and looked thoughtful. “If they’re after me, you could use me as bait!”

“No!” Sam howled, almost beyond thought. Gabriel gripped his knee sharply to keep him from bolting. “No,” Sam repeated gentler. “I’m sure you’re capable, but we never use someone as bait. We need weapons first. Machetes are good for ghouls.”

The teen considered, then nodded. “There’s one upstairs you can use. I’ve got a good long knife that I’ve had lots of practice with, can I use that?”

“That’s a good idea,” Sam agreed. A machete would have been better, but a weapon he already knew how to use would be safer. And hopefully Sam could kill it without Adam needing to get involved.

“Okay! I’ll go get them.” Adam jumped up and purposefully walked towards the next room.

The hairs on the back of Sam’s neck bristled. “Go with him,” Sam whispered. Something was wrong here. “If anything happens to him, I will stab you.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow at Sam. He couldn’t feel any changes but chose not to question Sam. He got up. Raphael turned to look at him, but he didn’t say anything, just shrugged and continued towards the stairs. “What happened? Raphael asked when they were out of earshot of Sam.

“I’m not sure,” Gabriel replied. “He’s good at identifying things out of place, but I don’t feel anything, so I don’t know. It could be an overprotective big brother thing.” He shrugged. “A long knife? Raph, you wouldn’t happen to be talking about your blade would you?”

“Swords are good for decapitation. But I’d rather not have to explain that to Sam. Then again, fencing is a thing.”

“You can hardly decapitate a person with a foil.”

When Adam and Gabriel were out of sight, Sam stood. Gabriel had been certain nothing was out of the usual for this house. So why did it feel like he was being watched?

Sam closed his eyes. The wall Azazel had put up had been pretty sturdy. But he was an archangel and some preternatural senses would be pretty useful right about now. This was about keeping family safe, and when it comes to family, anything goes.

The smell hit Sam like a bag of bricks. It was death and decay, rotting corpses and the things that feast on them.

He let the barrier fall back into place and resisted the urge to run. He was being watched the only thing that runs is prey. Adam and Gabriel were elsewhere, so they were safe, because it was watching him.

Sam cast his gaze around the room. It wasn't an invisible creature and if it was in the house properly, then Gabriel would have noticed. As he looked, he found a grate in the wall. He didn’t have a weapon, not a physical one, but he couldn’t let it find another way out or give it time to kill Adam. He would not lose another one. Not today.

Focus, Sam. Pushing the grate telepathically was easy. He remembered what it felt like when he’d shoved the wardrobe. Archangels didn’t need their grace to retain their photographic memories, he just had to know what he was looking for. Finding the ghoul was even easier. Sam would have been a psychic in any life, but demon blood did weird things to natural abilities, and acted weirder still when angelic predispositions existed.

The ghoul jumped through the hole in the wall where the grate had been. It must have recognized the danger it was in. Sam had been born a dangerous predator. Everything that happened since then didn’t make that any less true.

Sam gave a mental push. He couldn't let the ghoul touch him. Gabriel would recognize any imposter, but Adam wouldn’t. The pictures on the wall shook, but the ghoul kept coming. There was a rush in Sam’s ears and he was certain that was blood dripping from his nose. He lost his balance when the floor vibrated in unison with what almost sounded like voices too loud and far away from him to make out any words.

The ghoul was right there and unaffected, so Sam reached out with his hands- those were his hands, right?- and shoved. It wasn’t so much a physical blow as a mental zap that vaporized the creature.

Sam was already half on the floor and he decided that it would be just as comfortable as a bed.

Gabriel and Raphael were upstairs when they heard the crash from the metal grate. They materialized their blades and hurried back downstairs in time to feel the house shaking, and then to see Sam smite the ghoul. “I thought you said he could handle a hunt,” Raphael said.

‘If I had thought this could happen, I would have recommended a coffee shop. Why was the ghoul that probably ate your mother in the wall?”

“I had no idea it was there.”

They stepped into the living room. Sam was lying on the floor, unmoving except for the rise and fall of his chest and the blood dripping from his nose. Gabriel looked to run forward, but Raphael stopped him. “Let me.”

Raphael approached Sam slowly. The hunter was human, but he was also Lucifer and Lucifer had never been someone you’d want to startle when he was sleeping and/or injured. This human had also been raised not to allow anyone to catch him unawares.

The archangel of healing knelt by Sam’s head and touched his forehead. The bloody nose was easy to stop. He wouldn’t know about the possible lingering headache until Sam told him about it. If he told him about it.

“Tell me what really happened.” Raphael looked over his shoulder at Gabriel. ‘I expect him to give me a modified explanation, but I can’t really make sure he’s alright if I don’t know the details.”

“He was fed demon blood by Azazel as an infant. The powers affected by that had started acting up, but when Azazel was killed, they had seemed to be gone. Michael put his and Lucifer’s grace into the amulet he’s wearing. I think he may have found a way to use both powers to find and smite the ghoul. When he used the psychic powers before, they have resulted in his nose bleeding. The demon plan was for Sam to be the boy king of Hell, but no one seems to know Sam very well at all. He never would have gone for it.”

Raphael nodded. “He may have tried to act as a conduit for the grace in the amulet. He’s lucky he didn’t fry himself, but I think he’ll be fine. We’ll know more when he wakes up.”

The archangels sat on the sofa while they waited for Sam to wake up. He slept soundly and without being plagued by nightmares. “We should wake him,” Gabriel suggested after the sky had turned dark. “He really shouldn’t sleep on the floor.”

“Let him sleep,” his brother replied. “From what you said yesterday, he needs some sleep without worrying about anything.”

“But, Raph, what if something’s wrong?”

Sam drifted into awareness when there were voices in the background of the pain in his head. Gabriel’s voice he recognized with certainty; the second voice was fuzzier. He thought he heard Gabriel say, “Raphael,” but that didn’t make sense. Raph was still in heaven so they were estranged from him. Right? Except then he said it again, so Sam sat up, looking for his other other little brother. He only saw Gabriel and Adam. Who had Gabriel been talking to? Maybe if he could see…

“Whoa! Sam, don’t do that!” Adam moved towards him. “You almost fried your brain once today, you don’t need to do it again.”

Sam could feel the wall between him and the demon powers. If he could just push it, then maybe he could see Raphael.

Gabriel crouched next to Sam. “Sam, stop, you’re going to hurt yourself and I need to you to not, okay?”

Sam blinked. He could almost see the wall as a physical structure and if he could just… A cold hand clasped his arm, causing the wall to disappear.

“Luci,” Adam said. “Regardless of why you think frying your brain is an acceptable risk, it’s not. I did not spend the last two decades down here just so Micahel can find me in negligence because you fried yourself.”

“Raph?” Sam blinked past the pounding in his head as he tried to see what he knew was there.

“Yes, it’s me,” Adam, Raphael, whispered. He leaned forward so he could lie down next to Sam. “Does your head hurt?”

Sam shrugged, but Raphael recognized the body language. It was Lucifer’s, “Something might hurt but I don’t care to talk about it because I’d rather suffer in silence,” shrug. Gabriel laid down on Sam’s other side and Raphael put a finger on Sam’s forehead.

Sam didn’t try to resist Raphael. It was nice having Raphael on one side and Gabriel on the other. I was almost like old times in their nest, except for the most important thing. They were missing their brother. Sam still felt like half of him was missing. Not the grace that hung safely around his neck.

“Was that necessary?” Gabriel asked after Raphael had knocked Sam out.

“I couldn’t figure out why his head hurts if he kept going on about missing Michael. You would think they were supposed to be one person, the way they’re so codependent.”

“Do you think Father intended to make two? Mica and Luci always talked about it as though they’d been created in the same instant.”

“Only Father knows what Father wanted, and I guess that if he wanted us to know, then he would have told us himself.”

“I think he did, though. His last words to us were to love humanity more than we love him. The apocalypse would destroy them and I don’t think he’d want us to destroy his favorite creation. Especially not in hopes of getting him to come home. He would just be angry. As angry or angrier than when Luci told him they were destroying the planet.”

“They are! But I get your point.” The two awake archangels laid in silence listening to the third sleep. Michael would come back to them, just they needed to have patience.

Chuck studied the pages he’d just written. Adam, who wasn’t supposed to make an appearance until after he had died, had already shown up. Why had the Trickster come back? He wasn’t supposed to make another appearance until he tried to get the boys to say yes! He knew where the road with Lilith was supposed to go, Sam was supposed to get addicted to demon blood so he could both kill Lilith and house an archangel. Except he already was.

It wasn’t what was supposed to happen, but Chuck decided that if you liked stories with redemption, this wasn’t too bad. Except he knew that Dean, Sam, and Adam weren’t supposed to be actual archangels, they were just supposed to be vessels. He’d tried to fix it! Ruby was supposed to kill some demons for Sam while Gabriel was busy keeping Dean alive, but nothing had changed! Gabriel killed the Wrong Demon and saved the Wrong Winchester and everything had only gotten more off track from there! The boys weren't supposed to know that Gabriel was an archangel, and now Sam knew Adam was also an archangel. He and Dean had not been supposed to ever meet the real Adam.

He was sure he could fix this though. Chuck was not going to subject his readers to Sam Winchester trying to join his brother in Hell. Lucifer really should have known better, but Chuck had left that part out of the novels because it wouldn’t make any sense for there to be two copies of three of the four archangels running around. He could just say that their memories were in that damn amulet, along with their powers.

But first he had to stop Sam from the dark track he was spiraling down. It was hardly like his ill-thought out suicide attempt would be successful, but still, none of his children should have to suffer like that. Raphael and Gabriel would find him and fix it, probably, but there had to be a way to stop him from reaching that mindset in the first place, and since the introduction of Raphael had not fixed it, which it should have. So, what could he do? Sam would be fine as soon as Michael came back, but Dean had to be in hell for four months and at the time of Dean’s birthday, it hadn’t even been one. So what could he- The thought came to him in a sudden moment of clarity, as if it’d been there all along and he simply hadn’t been looking at it from the right angle. Stasis. If Sam and Lucifer were in stasis until Dean walked through that door, then he would be fine!

Turning back to his computer with a satisfied smile, he began to write once more. And as he wrote, so it happened.

Tagging: (If you’d like to be added or removed, just send me an ask or a message!)

@talkingtomyselfagain @karategirl80 @ladylilithprime@altyex @nathyfaith @hyrulehearts1123 @hidinginmybochard @thallencambricaltran

#tw suicide #prompt fill #spn prompt fill #spn fanfiction #Michael #Lucifer #Raphael #Gabriel #Sam Winchester #Lucifer!Sam #Adam Milligan #Raphael!Adam #Ghoul hunting #Chuck

0 notes

amadnessofmuses · 7 years

Text

Dinner, Not Date

Raphael had to tell himself once again as he stood in front of the mirror running his hands down the front of his button down to smooth the wrinkles free that this was not a date. This was dinner with a new friend that he had met, a friend he was not allowed to date. While half his brain seemed convinced of that the other half didn’t. The other half hadn’t been convinced all day either, dwelling on Gabriel.

Dwelling was a bit of an understatement. He couldn’t seem to get the man out of his mind. He had been thinking about him, about his eyes and his hair or how he looked like a drop of sunshine peaking through the clouds on a rainy day. There he went again. It was almost embarrassing. Actually it was highly embarrassing. Finishing with his shirt, he pulled his trouser on and tucked everything in before sliding on a vest; it was less casual in his opinion than a tie. Gabriel didn’t seem the dressy type, yet he still wanted to look nice in something over than a heavy jacket or a g-string.

30 minutes later had him waiting outside of the restaurant Gabriel had mentioned coffee in hand and waiting anxiously. He was nervous, which was new for him. Nervous was not something he did, he was studying to be a doctor, a surgeon and stripped for a living, nervous was not in his vocabulary.

“This is not a date,” he reminded himself again standing up when he saw Gabriel, putting the book he had been planning to read and instead had just been staring at in his bag he offered Gabriel a smile.

“Gabriel,” he greeted, wishing that maybe the sun hadn’t been as bright as it was, it only served to make the man even more beautiful. This was dangerous.

Getting to go to dinner with Raphael was one of the highlights of his day—and that was saying something given that he had helped to film four different threeways just hours before. Regardless of that the day had been pretty tedious with a lot of processing of new employees and paperwork. The sheer amount of work that went in to ensuring people were who they said they were, were the age they said they were, and healthy too could be overwhelming sometimes.

Grabbing dinner away from the business was the perfect way to break up the long night he had of filming.

“Hey you,” he greeted with an easy grin when he caught sight of Raphael outside of the restaurant. It was a mystery to him as to just how he’d forgotten how beautiful Raphael was and it might have had him blushing just a little as he moved in closer to the other. “I’m starving, shall we go inside?”

Gabriel grinned hopefully up at him. He hadn’t had much of a chance to eat all day only grabbing a small thing here or there. It was just too busy for him to have even stopped long to think about it.

“Yes please,” Raphael said with a grin as he started towards the door, holding it open to let Gabriel in behind him.

“Should I have asked for the bar instead of a table , I should have asked what you preferred,” He asked as they waited to be seated. The place seemed just busy enough and friendly enough with a few children around he could remind himself that they were hanging out and not on a date. He didn’t however want Gabriel to think that he was trying to make it one.

Yes he had dressed up but he did that all the time and yes maybe it was a little to impress him but he did have a few months to wait and he needed to keep the man’s attention somehow.

“A table is fine,” Gabriel waved his hand clearing the words from the air. It didn’t matter to him where they sat so long as it meant getting some food and a chance to talk to Raphael for a while before having to go work on more paperwork.

“How’s your day been?” he asked moving his hands into the pockets of his pants as he waited behind the couple in front of them to be seated. “I want all the details, distract me from the mundane paperwork I’ve been sucked in to for the last two hours.”

Raphael gave a small chuckle, to anyone around them it would seem like Gabriel had a horribly boring job that was all paper work and just end to end boredom. Raphael liked knowing differently. He liked knowing that yes there was paper work but the other half of the man’s job was not so boring.

“It wasn’t very eventful, I will tell you that,” he offered with a grin as he pulled out his phone and opened his blog. What was sad was the amount of pictures he had to go along with his stories.

“I had class early this morning so I had to stop and get coffee of course,” he offered showing Gabriel the post about his coffee, complete with pictures, including the ones from the day before when the two of them had gone.

“I managed to get to the little shop you introduced me to. I must admit even a second time without the pleasure of awesome company it was just as good,” he offered.

“As you can see I had saved my post about it till now thinking that findings may have been skewed. I assure you as I did my followers they were not,” he offered with a grin.

“I had the caramel latte and a coffee this time and they were delicious. Heavenly almost, just the right amount of caramel to add some sweet while not covering up the taste of the coffee,” he explained.

His attention drifting slightly to the couple in front of them as they were seated, maybe next time they did this, he would get them a table first if he got here and just let the man know, not that me minded waiting and talking, actually he was finding himself a little less nervous than he had been, talking with Gabriel was easy.

Most people, when asked about their day and told not to spare a single detail, fell short of doing that. It was as if they never took him seriously in the idea that he just liked hearing people talk and knowing about their day to day life. Raphael was totally different from that and quickly dropped in to going over his day even providing pictures.

“I knew you would love the place. They’ve always served the best coffee—always.”

An easy grin graced his lips as he looked at the pictures. Once again he was blown away with the way Raphael captured even just the simple drinks he’d tried out that morning and made a mental note to check out his blog the next chance he got.

“I’m flattered by the way. What else did you tell your readers about me?”

Gabriel couldn’t help but ask the question, a mischievous grin replacing the previous one on his lips as his fingers skimmed over the screen looking for the photo of himself from the day before. It was stupid to hope that he’d earned a rave review and if he had it wasn’t like there was much he could do anyways—at least not for a few months yet.

The question of a table or both and how many was in their party pulled his thoughts from Raphael and he let his attention settle on the hostess as he requested whatever was readily available for just the two of them.

“You don’t have a preference do you? I could always change it if you do? I should have asked first, I have a habit of just taking charge a bit sometimes…sorry.”

“A table is fine with me,” Raphael answered with a small grin at the thought of Gabriel being one to just take charge. He was okay with that. It was nice change of pace. He had been in charge of his own life for so long and from such a young age it was nice to see someone else and be around someone else that was okay with making decisions for the both of them without having to have a long drawn out debate on it.

“In answer to your question, I might have a post or two about you but those came later on in the day so you will have to wait to read those post,” he answered as they were seated, sliding into the booth opposite of Gabriel.

“I had a whole class, a paper I wrote and another few cups of coffee before I started posting about you to get through,” he offered teasingly before ordering water and a coffee from the waitress.

It was endlessly fascinating to Gabriel that Raphael wrote so much about his day to go along with the pictures he was taking of it. In fact he was so fascinated by the whole thing that he was almost considering doing it himself just to see if it was something he could find enjoyment in doing.

“I’ll have a cotton candy vodka please.”

Gabriel flashed the waitress a charming smile to stave off any weird reaction she might have to the drink then let his attention settle back on Raphael.

“How did the paper go? Was it the one you were heading home to work on the other day or a different one?”

Raphael had mentioned having one he needed to work on and Gabriel had meant to ask what it was going to be on. Better late than never though with the follow up he supposed.

Raphael was fascinated at the man and his love of his cotton candy vodka, he wondered if it was even any good. It had to be he guessed even if it sounded terrible. Raphael unfolded his napkin and placed it on his lap out of habit as he flipped at the menu.

“It is not the same one, this one was more of a personal paper I was writing for a journaling class I am taking on the side,” he said grinning as he looked up at the man before flipping through the blog posts to find the article.

“It’s on the odd culture of Twinkies,” he offered with a small grin, passing the phone off to Gabriel, showing the article he had posted. He didn’t expect him to read it, though the online version he had posted on his blog included pictures and even a survey, along with some pictures of his Twinkie testing and the people he had spoken with. It was a little bolder than the one he had turned in but he was sure he would still ace it.

“I truly dislike the taste of them if you are wondering,” he offered. He had a hunch Gabriel would not share his hate of them. Gabriel looked like the kind that liked sweets. From the coffee he had ordered to the cotton candy vodka, he just had a hunch.

Of course Raphael would be taking a journaling class on the side with his others. It fit him, it fit with the whole writing and picture taking thing. Reaching out Gabriel took the phone from him and skimmed over the article, making a mental note of the blog title so he could go back and read the full thing later.

“Twinkies are amazing though. There is so much you can use them for. You know I was personally devastated when they tried to stop making them. Pure heartache.”

Winking at Raphael he passed the phone back to him. He’d mostly been teasing, though he did love the things he hadn’t been heartbroken. There were other sweets out there equally as amazing as them, ones that people weren’t selfishly bogarting.

When the waitress came back with their drinks Gabriel took a healthy sip from his, licked his lips, and relaxed back against his chair.

“So you just against Twinkies or sweets in general?”

It was hard to get a read on people with that, especially with Raphael. He had tried both regular coffee and something flavored so it could go either way with this one.

“I don’t mind sweets in moderation.”

It was a simple answer and a feeling he had come to learn that most people shared. There was some people who loved sweets, some people that hated them but most of the masses he had managed to poll sat somewhere in the middle like he himself did. He liked them for dessert, he liked them sometimes with a strong cup of black coffee and he liked them as a treat. He didn’t live off of them or avoid them like a plague.

“I have a feeling that you love them. At least I think you do. Its how I have you pegged. The cotton candy vodka, the Twinkies, the sweet coffee, I am assuming you are one of the people who lives off sweets.”

He shared the thought as he skimmed the menu looking for something vegetarian. He was surprised at how many options there actually were at this place. It was nice to see for a change that he could opt for something other than a salad he had to tell them to hold half of.

“I wouldn’t say I live off of them—ok that’s a lie I do!”

Sitting back Gabriel grinned and shrugged his shoulders. Everyone in his life always got on him about the amount of sweets he ate but he didn’t care. It was on a long list of things that people seemed to think he needed to change about himself, sandwiched right between drinking too much and working too hard. It was one of those things he wasn’t planning on changing though.

“I can enjoy other things too though; I’m not a total sweet heathen though I’m sure some of my family would have you believe that.”

He was happy to note his words only contained a fraction of the bitterness he felt.

Running his thumb along the menu he thought about what he wanted to eat, landing on a steak dinner that looked particularly delicious.

“I just think that life is short, we don’t really know when something will go off course with it you? So why not indulge while we can; be that sweets, porn, or whatever other indulgence you enjoy.”

“I could not agree more.”

Raphael knew well how quickly life could change. It was part being from the streets, part being a stripper and part being at a hospital. He knew how quickly things could change and even quicker how they could end in an instant. He chose to ignore the comment about his family. If Gabriel ate as much sweets as he seemed to think he did they had reason to be worried, however he was not going to be the one to harp the man on it. He had hardly invited him here to get his medical opinion on his sugar intake.

“It’s part of the reason why I am who I am. I want to be a doctor perhaps a surgeon and I don’t want to wait for it to fall in my lap. It is something I enjoy so I do something I don’t love quite as much to pay for it.”

He wanted to say it was why he was here too but he left it off. He was of the same opinion that Gabriel was, do the things you liked and he did that. He was proud of that, even if the things he seemed to like were a little less hedonistic than Gabriel’s.

“Are you ready for the next part of my day, I am afraid this part is a little more embarrassing.”

With that he pulled out his phone flipping to his blog post on what should he wear for a dinner, not date. It included a few rambling about Gabriel and how excited he was for the dinner and to get to know the fascinating man he had met last night. It also included about ten photos of different outfits he let his followers choose for him. In the end he hadn’t gone with anything on the list.

Reaching out he passed the phone to Gabriel. He knew this was the part he was after, the parts about him and his thoughts on him.

“Feel free to not read all the boring drowning on about you I did.”

Grinning Gabriel reached out and took the phone back, reading through what Raphael had written about him. It was sweet, actually if he had a blog he probably would have been rambling on the exact same way that the other was and it was comforting to know.

“Bright side, I think I was about the same while talking about you to my brother today.”

He passed it back to him and settled back in his chair once more. His eyes moved over Raphael taking in his choice of outfit. Despite input from his readers he’d gone with something totally different which was interesting but it was a good choice.

Luc even told me to shut up at one point, that I was annoying him.”

Gabriel beamed over the table at Raphael as he said it and shrugged his shoulders.

“I personally don’t think I was. I think he just needs to get laid. He’s got his eye on the brother of one of our new actors but the kid only just turned eighteen. Hey you might know him, well the actor not his brother. We picked him up at your work the other night—Dean Winchester.”

Raphael could feel his face warm at the admission that Gabriel may have been drowning on about him as well. It was a good sign that this, whatever this was could work out. He was just glad he had yet to have anyone tell him that he was annoying and to shut up about it. He would put it to the fact that his followers had the option to read his yammering while Gabriel’s brother didn’t appear to. It seemed it was laid on him without his asking for it to happen.

“I do know Dean Winchester, though I doubt that your brother will ever get with his. Dean is very protective. Nothing against your brother but I am willing to bet that if he found your yammering about me annoying getting through Dean Winchesters rules on his brother will be even more so.”

Dean had just as many hardships in his family if not more than he had. If Sam could find someone to make him happy then it would be good for him, maybe even the both of them.

“Be careful with Dean. I am not saying he doesn’t know what he is doing but sometimes he will bite of more than he can chew.”

He liked Dean, he was good at his job and honest. He was also a fun person to be around but his family and home life had changed him and he would do anything to make money. He was glad Gabriel had found him and picked him up. He’d heard decent things about Gabriel’s business.

Passing the phone back to Raphael he consider his testimonial about Dean. It fit with what Gabriel had already been thinking about the guy. In fact he’d picked him out of everyone else at the club because of the ‘do anything’ attitude he had. People in his industry pulled from clubs like Dean and Raphael worked all the time, that or they found their way to places like his through online adds promising things they couldn’t deliver on.

Dean wasn’t desperate, not in a way that most people would have picked up on, but Gabriel knew had he passed on Dean he’d just end up seeing the guy working for some other film crew and probably not a good one. This business could have some pretty nasty contenders in it and at least as Casa he could make sure his employee’s were taken care of. He could make sure everyone involved was clean and tested, he could make sure everyone involved was consenting and not over worked or strung out on some cheap drug given to them by producers.

With him Dean would be safe and even if he’d bitten off more than he could chew Gabriel would make sure he was taken care of. It’s why he got in to the business. He liked his p0rn 100% guilt free and that was something only he could only promise if he was making it himself.

“Thanks for the heads up, I’ll make sure he doesn’t do that. I spent a portion of the day getting everything together for him. I picked up on the same kind of eager vibe—thanks for looking out for him though. Not a lot of people would do that.”

It was something Gabriel could appreciate about Raphael. He had no stock in what decisions Dean made but he was still offering something of a warning and not out of competition but out of a willingness to make sure things weren’t going to be too much for the guy. It was nice.

Raphael was glad that Gabe had picked up on Dean’s eagerness for a pay check, it said a lot about the man sitting across from him and what he thought about his business and his employees. It was nice to see in his kind of work. Most people only seemed to care to an extent. It seemed Gabe would go above and beyond and he was glad to see that it was him who had picked up Dean and not someone else. He had worried when Dean had come on the scene at work for the kid. He had been willing to walk out with anyone who seemed to offer the larger bill to him. He didn’t want to see him hurt.

“They would not.”

He agreed with him whole heartedly on that one.

“I am glad that you do. You seem liked you really care about your employees; I find most people that come around for your line of work don’t care half as much. It’s refreshing.”

He hadn’t seen anyone who would watch Dean or for that mattered cared that he was just under 18. It seemed to be that if they thought they could get away with it or blame it on him that they didn’t care.

“Actually you have proven to be quite refreshing all the way around Gabriel. You listen, you speak, you seem interested as well as seeming interesting. It’s nice.”

He offered the compliment with a bashful grin. He was happy with this friendship so far and he hoped, given that dinner didn’t go horribly wrong that this would be something they could continue.

If there was one thing worth priding himself on it was that he actually gave a crap about the industry he worked in. It was just something worth having because guilt free entertainment was the best form of entertainment, he strived for that and so did everyone who worked for him. It was one thing to dress sleezey and act it, so long as it was just that—an act.

Grinning he ducked his head, looking down at the menu to help hide the bit of blush he felt creeping up his neck.

“Well, to the start of a long friendship then, one that stays interesting and engaging.”

Picking up the drink that was set in front of him he toasted and took a sip, savoring the sweet flavor of it and the soothing burn of the alcohol.

“You ready to order or need another minute?”

The way that Gabe ducked his head at the compliment that he had given him was most likely the cutest thing that he had ever seen. He wasn’t a fan of most animals and didn’t find most of them to be super cute but Gabriel and that head ducking thing he was doing he was sure could win any my animal is the cutest contest.

Holding up his glass he tapped it against Gabe’s and grinned. He liked the toast and he truly did hope it came true. Gabe was one of the most fascinating people that he had come across in his life and he had met quite a few people.

“I do believe I am ready when you are.”

He laid his menu open, flipping back a page to the salad and sandwich section he was normally most found of and which held a selection he deemed eatable and healthy. There was an Asian salad there that sounded sublime, that and an order of fries on the side would do him just perfect.

“You can’t judge on what I am getting however. I have been healthy all week apart from tasting a Twinkie so the fries are a treat.”

Looking up he caught the waitresses eye so she knew they would be ready to order whenever she got a second to come back around to them, then directed his attention to the page that Raphael was looking at.

“Hmm salads, I don’t know I might have to judge that.”

The words held a teasing tone and he offered them with a wink to let the other know he was just playing around with him and wasn’t actually judging what he was eating. Really who would he be to judge when he was sitting there sipping on cotton candy vodka?

Once their orders were place and they were left alone once again he turned his attention back to Raphael.

“So what made you want to study in the honorable medical field?”

When everything was ordered and the waitress was gone Raphael let himself relax a little more into the booth as Gabriel asked him about why he went in to medicine.

“My mother actually. When I was young she was diagnosed with cancer. I watched her go to doctor after doctor after specialist and still nothing could be done about it. I decided that I would find a cure for her.”

He gave a small smile when he thought about it, younger him barely at reading level and there he was plowing through these huge tomes of books and stumbling over the medical jargon while his mother slept beside him.

“I started researching when I wasn’t helping watch over her. I would go to the library and get every book on cancer and medicine I could find. I would I spent most of my childhood reading. Even when I would sit next to her bed I would read the books to her. I know she had to get sick of medical texts being read to her at her bedside but if she did she never said anything. Of course I didn’t find it in time to save her but I will one day and maybe I can save someone else’s mother. “

Well that was far deeper than he had expected for it to be. Most people in the medical field that he knew had gone in to it because of what it paid and because it was one of the main fields ‘going places’ still.

“That sucks, I’m sorry.”

He’d known from the day before that Raphael had lost his mother. Being alone was something he himself kind of understood. His own mother had left the family early on and dad took little to no interest in them most days.

“I’m sure you’re doing her proud—you know if you believe in all that afterlife stuff. I do but I guess that’s what you get from a family named after angels right.”

He gave a subtle wink to help ease the conversation a little bit just in case Raphael took offense to the comment. He’d known people to be weird over the concept of an afterlife before and wasn’t looking at getting into a debate with the man sitting across from him.

“Actually I am not sure where I fall on that.”

Raphael gave Gabe a small smile, letting him know that he hadn’t offended him. In fact it intrigued him. He liked knowing what people thought about the afterlife and what their beliefs were. He was interested in seeing what a guy from a family of angels actually believed.

“On one hand I would like to continue believing what my mother taught me about angels and Heaven but on the other as a man of medical science it is hard for me to think that there is something more in the afterlife when we don’t have any proof about it.”

Picking up his drink he took a sip, relaxing slightly into the booth hoping that Gabe didn’t mind the conversation.

“What are your thoughts? Your actual thoughts not what your family raised you to think? That is if you don’t mind the conversation or me asking.”

That was a good question. Despite coming from a family of angels and having been all named after them he wasn’t even sure what dad believed. It wasn’t like he’d been around all that much and Michael didn’t share his own thoughts on the matter. In fact Castiel was the only one who ever shared is thoughts and Gabriel often found himself agreeing with them.

“I think there was something, I don’t think there is anymore though. My brother Cas, see he has this theory that God made us, got it wrong, and checked out. Went off to build again somewhere else—I think he’s right. I think if there was a god he’s long gone by now.”

It was a said belief and approach to take but Gabriel found it fitting. There wasn’t enough good in this world to be indicative of God’s presence or that of angels.

“I guess I think we’re all just one flawed social experiment.”

Raphael listened as Gabriel explained that he didn’t think that God was in Heaven any more. It was an interesting theory and on he had never heard before and he had heard plenty.

“I have never heard that theory before but I like it. It explains the beliefs that have been handed down to us and why we think that one day God will return to us if we can be good enough. It also could explain the idea that there is life on other planets and why we seek to find it.”

He mused over the idea for a few more moments, wondering how open Gabriel was to talking about it.

“Do you think that anyone stayed, is there any kind of Heaven or Hell or did all his angels and such leave with him?”

Now those were some good questions.

“Yes I think some stayed, not too many though. I think it’s why sometimes miracles happen but not too many you know?”

Of course he probably knew, he was in the medical field where shitty things happened and everyone was looking for some faith and reason for God to save them. Of course there just weren’t enough angels to go around, at least that’s how Gabriel saw it anyways.

“And nope, I think he’s done with us and whoever is left upstairs is just bidding their time until the end. Doing the best they can, so on and so forth.”

To most people it probably seemed depressing. In fact he thought it might be more depressing than not believing in anything but it was what it was in his mind.

The waitress was coming back, this time with their food in tow and he leaned back from the table allowing her room to put it in front of him where his elbows had previously been resting.

Raphael leaned back and made room for the waitress to set their food down and gave her a small smile of thanks before she left again. The smell of the fries was instant and they looked so good. He couldn’t wait to eat some. He also couldn’t wait to hear more on Gabriel’s theory of Heaven.

“You say the ones that are left are biding their time till the end. What do you mean by that? Do you think there will be a great end all to the world? The biblical apocalypse and all that jazz?”

It was interesting. The idea that there would be would seem to indicate that Gabe believed that the devil had stayed and was still plotting to take over. He was just curious how far this theory went and was more than willing to discuss it so long as Gabe was okay sharing.

#muse: Raphael #Dinner Not Date

0 notes