#a disclaimer: im jewish and entirely unfamiliar with testament 2: electric boogaloo

[nikadd]

show the world (the thunder)

(also on ao3)

It is going to be the day of days of jubilation. An air of celebration will rise across thousands of miles, in homes and out in the streets, in some parts quiet and barely felt, in others - emboldened to be bearing witness to the return for the ages. The entire host of angels watches as the turn of history shifts, as humanity makes the first steps towards reassessing its proximity to divinity since the wise king had ordered the building of the First Temple.

An angel they call Castiel gazes down upon a lone shepherd dozing against an olive tree. In awe of the lightness of the man’s slumber and the rise of his chest, Castiel wonders then if he should let a goat shake the man awake so he does not sleep through the culmination of the promised word.

Conflicted with the idea of involvement, Castiel searches for the rest of his garrison. Somewhere not too far away, Balthazar and Ishim speak to each other in quiet tones; not in secret, but in a comfortable kind of confidence. Benjamin is resting, his wings relaxed, his being hazy. Anna, Uriel, Hester, and Bartholomew are nowhere to be seen, as they are out on watch at their intended stations.

Figuring no one is going to miss him with a few hours left before the Sun rises, Castiel flies down and perturbs the goat. The animal jumps in the sense of angelic presence and kicks the sleeping shepherd awake. The man groans in pain, and Castiel watches as he rubs the memory of dreaming from his eyes.

Castiel has never been above looking closer into his Father’s handiwork, and this is no exception. The man’s soul is bright, his face clear and open, only barely slighted by the evidence of age. This man, Castiel allows himself to conjecture, must lead a happy and honest life. He has fifty more years to live, seven children to father, two homes to build (for one will be lost to a fire), and hundreds of Shabbats to celebrate.

There’s something else Castiel sees in this man. Something he can’t quite understand, as if it’s hidden on purpose. Whether it’s the will of his Father or someone else entirely, Castiel does not know, but his curiosity refuses to dwindle the longer he watches.

Uncertain yet unafraid, Castiel approaches the man as close as he possibly can on an earthly plane. Up close, the soul is even more brilliant, a true testament to the intersection of the holy and the mundane. Transfixed, Castiel lets out a song of gratitude towards his Father for bestowing the ability to perceive the glory of his creations.

The man looks up and straight at the angel’s center. In sweet horror, Castiel blinks and floats even closer. The man swallows.

You can see me, the angel speaks, letting his wings out of where he kept them folded unto themselves. The man, who was already sitting on the ground, rises to his knees and lowers his head in reverence, his eyes still on the angel’s form. 

(This simple gesture makes Castiel feel something unrecognizable. Much later he would learn that it is shame, and a giddy one at that, born out of a deep desire coagulating in his very being. It won’t be too long until another man kneels before him, and Castiel learns the true price for waiting for the end of the world.)

What is your name? The angel asks.

The man blinks - a moment of moments - and answers, “Yochanan.”

Castiel smiles and tries the name out in his mouth. Yochanan shakes with the sound, his entire body trembling against the ground.

I am Castiel, the angel continues. Yochanan opens his mouth, but closes before a sound could come out. Castiel frowns. You can say it. Say my name, Yochanan.

Yochanan shuts his eyes and drops lower, his nails digging into the soft soil. He lifts his head, then, and faces Castiel with a resurgence of life and energy.

“Castiel,” Yochanan speaks. Castiel. Castiel. Castiel. Castiel.

Overwhelmed, the angel inverts his form. The holy spark electrifies the ground surrounding the two of them, and a tremor runs down to the depths of the earth’s mantle. Yochanan, still shaking, covered in a layer of sweat and dirt, attempts to stand up, not looking anywhere but the divine entity before him.

A thought strikes Castiel. Here stands a son of Adam, and one with the sight of the holy at that. Such men come one in ten thousand, and Castiel feels a strange sense of pride in finding one. Under that pride, there’s something else. Something personal. Intimate, even. He knows nothing of the future that will befall either of them, and with every second passing in quiet, Castiel’s resolve to take this chance grows stronger.

Are you a devout man, Yochanan?

//

Castiel has walked among the humans before, but never as one of them. The sensations are strange. He’s still very much aware of his angelic form, but the physical dimensions of his vessel offer a new stream of sensory information. The earth under his feet is warm, the air dry, and the slight breeze blowing through Yochanan’s dark curls a welcome feeling.

The first thing he does is make sure the goats stay in place, fulfilling the one promise Yochanan asked him to make. Satisfied with that, Castiel moves towards the city.

He moves through the streets mostly unbothered by the surroundings. He remembers Anna telling the garrison about what to expect if they were to ever find themselves here: the souls, the rips in the veil between worlds, the architecture. Castiel stands upon a rock that just in under two millennia will be a location of Jerusalem's first McDonald's restaurant. He feels its power.

Castiel stops in front of the Temple. From the human perspective, it is a palace, a vision of the wealth of the Kingdom of Judea. He wonders if Father cares what stone a place of worship is made of, or how high the walls reach.

A pair of Roman soldiers with torches appear at the end of the street and start walking towards him. Castiel does not move from his spot, still gazing at the temple. When they get closer, he turns to look at them. The two move faster, for whatever reason.

Before they can reach him, Castiel is pulled by some unimaginable force into a nook just off the street. With wings flapping in the in-between space, Castiel grounds himself in the vessel before looking at the face of his unlikely companion.

“Long time no see, o brother of mine.”

“Gabriel.”

The archangel leans against the wall and fixes the sleeves of his tunic. Castiel does not recognize his vessel as exactly human, but that’s no surprise. His brother has always shared in their Father’s penchant for arts and crafts.

“Congrats on your first mortal ride. How’s it? Fitting you right?”

“His name is Yochanan. He is a devout man.”

“Aren’t all of them always? Michael knows what he’s doing, spreading the old man’s word. Now you can ride any of Yochanan’s descendants, as they will carry a part of your grace within. Nifty little trick, don’t you think?”

Castiel, being in a taller body than Gabriel’s one, stares him down.

“What are you doing here, Gabriel? We haven’t seen you since Lucifer-”

“Pshh, what? I’m not allowed to pass through? I was the one to run away. I’m the one in control of where I wanna go.”

Gabriel’s tone is light, but Castiel denotes a note of offense.

“Gabriel. Are you here to witness the resurrection in person?”

The archangel pulls out a golden comb out the folds in his tunic and runs it through his hair. “Always been a front seat kind of angel. You have an issue with that?”

He puts the comb away and starts walking down the street, away from the Temple. Castiel follows.

“No. Does anyone else know?“

“Michael might have some idea. He’s a nosy son of a bitch.”

“We don’t have a mother, Gabriel.”

“It’s the first century, Castiel. Dads can be bitches too.”

Castiel only rolls his eyes. The physical action is strangely pleasant, and so he does it again.

“If you do that too much, you’re gonna get stuck like that,” Gabriel warns with a gentle spike of mirth.

“That's not true,” Castiel says, but unsure, which makes Gabriel laugh even harder.

Castiel smiles and looks down at his feet. Yochanan’s sandals are worn but sturdy, cared for. There is a scar on his right calf, probably made by a butcher’s knife miscast against a lamb.

“What have you been doing all these years?”

“Nothing anyone would approve of, that’s for sure.”

“We’ve missed you.”

The two stop in front of a house with a low entrance, as if it’s digging itself into the earth below. Gabriel puts his hand on Castiel’s shoulder. The younger angel leans into the touch, exhales in a rush of air he never felt before.

“I know,” Gabriel smiles, a sadness clouding his features. He lets himself take pause before deciding to speak again. “Come. Let me tell you something.”

//

Castiel finds himself on a hill overlooking the city. Gabriel stands just ahead of him, grand and still.

“Spoke to Dad recently?”

“Joshua says -”

Gabriel chuckles. “Right. Joshua. Of course.”

He snaps his fingers and a roll of tobacco appears in his hand, one end already in smoke. Gabriel takes a long drag from the cigar and, after a long second, offers it to Castiel, who shakes his head.

Gabriel shrugs, “Suit yourself.”

He takes another drag and looks down.

“You’ve been here awhile?”

“A few hundred human years. Naomi put me in Anna’s garrison. They needed a tactician.”

Gabriel nods and pulls from the cigar again.

“You know what’s going to happen today?”

“Yes,” Castiel says, but then amends: “As much as they have told me.”

Gabriel blows a smoke ring. “Thought so.”

“Do you know?”

The moment strikes Castiel to think that his brother, once radiant and shimmering in all of his glory, has lived entire lifetimes away from home. No divine face to see in all the years he’d spent hiking through the universe, but still surrounded by everything the holy word had made. The burden of time lies heavy on Gabriel’s wings, but, somehow, it only makes his visage more grandiose; a testament of strength and endurance.

“There’s probably nothing else our siblings like more than fixing someone else’s messes, don’t you think?”

Castiel tips his head slightly to the side in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I’d never claimed to be a perfect angel, Castiel. Far from a perfect son or brother, too.”

Gabriel sits down on the ground and motions Castiel to follow suit. Seated, Gabriel wraps an arm around one of his knees and takes another drag.

“But I could always solve my own problems without having to get everyone else involved. It was the one thing I could still say about myself and know it to be true.”

Gabriel laughs unkindly.

“Whatever you have left, you’re always left to lose. I’ve spent a millennium with the pagans. Orgies, raids - the whole shebang. One thing about them old gods, they love the spectacle. Mind you, Castiel, I appreciate it greatly, but at some point, it can all build upon itself to a halt. At the last bacchanalia, I guess I got so fucked up that I felt homesick for the first time ever since I cut myself out. Going home was never the option, I knew that, but I knew of the place on Earth that was the closest to what I was looking for.

“So I came here and took a young Jewish man’s face to fit. Granted, I flew right out of Pan’s lodging, so I was still not in the state of mind to do anything inoffensive to Father’s name. What’s worse is that the more I sobered, the more resolute I became in my desire to do something to get his attention. It didn’t take me long. A lovely girl found me by a well near her house and offered to sneak me dinner. She was the most gracious being you could ever find. I put my plan in motion before I could stop and consider the consequences. She did nothing wrong bar trusting me.

“I revealed Father’s name unto her, and she spoke it at the edge of happiness. Between the two of us, four commandments had been broken, but neither of us was counting. On that dark Shabbat night, I felt the closest to Heaven I ever could before.

“Unfortunately, I achieved my goal. Michael came down from his post to discipline me in person, but then he saw that she was with child, and, for the lack of a better term, flipped his shit. Scared the girl. I had to put her to sleep just so she doesn’t kill both herself and the baby out of pure shock.”

“Did you kill the nephil child?”

“No,” Gabriel turns to his brother. “No, we called for Dad’s guidance instead.”

“And he gave it to you?” Castiel lets his mouth gape.

“Came down himself to see what was going on. I felt almost jealous, but that was before I remembered that the whole situation was my fault anyways. He acted like he was not surprised by my behavior whatsoever.”

Gabriel puts the cigar out against his shoe, throws it out of existence, and takes a deep breath before continuing.

“So Dad did what he does best: use the situation for his benefit. He chose to keep the child alive, and instructed me to erase the girl’s memory of the night. I was to speak to her upon her waking to tell her that she will carry God’s own child. She was to marry her betrothed and give birth to a savior. Good PR is worth a fortune in gold nowadays. I wanted to protest, of course, but we ended up cutting a deal instead.”

“You bargained with Father?”

“Neither of us have ever been above it.”

“What did you get?”

“Insurance. I do as he says this once, and he commands the angels to not bother me about the Apocalypse.”

Castiel hums his understanding.

“You think it is a fitting condition?” Gabriel asks.

“It’s… charitable.”

“Certainly one way to call it.”

A dawn-time bird lands not too far away from where the angels are sitting. It digs into the ground for a lone worm, its day turning out for the better already. Castiel smiles at the little creature. Gabriel watches his brother in fascination.

“You know what I think is so special about you, Castiel?”

“No, I do not know. Please tell me.”

“Out of all angels, you have probably the singular greatest capacity to love all of Dad’s creations. Whenever an angel gives you shit, that’s why. They can’t measure up, and they all know it.”

Castiel averts his gaze from the kindness bestowed. “You exaggerate.”

“Not at this time. I don’t know what the future holds for any of us, but I know that you are going to be a blessing upon humanity.”

“How do you know that?”

“I just do.”

The two angels smile at each other. Castiel lets his wings embrace his brother in a tight hug. He knows that once he returns to his garrison, Gabriel will be long gone, and it won’t be until much later that they will see each other again.

“There is still one thing I do not understand, but I do not think it is my place to ask it.”

“No thing like that. Ask away.”

“Alright. If Father wanted the nephil child to live, why let the humans kill him just to bring him back three days later?”

“Well,” Gabriel chuckles. “You have to remember something about Father, Castiel. He’s an old god too.”

//

Gabriel stays on the hill for a little longer after Castiel has already left. Watching the Sun rise over the horizon, he barely moves when he senses his older brother appear behind him.

“I don’t understand why you chose to tell Castiel about the child being yours.”

“Don’t blame me for being a better storyteller than you are.”

Michael, dressed in an old man’s garb, steps in front of Gabriel.

“You know how he gets. You’re only creating more work for Naomi.”

Gabriel stands up. Michael towers over every angel in the host, but now, on this Earth, his vessel is a smaller man. This makes Gabriel smile.

“Nothing she’s never done before. Castiel is strong; he can take it.”

Both archangels turn to look over the city.

“You know what your problem is, Gabriel?”

“Please, Michael. Tell me what you think it is.”

“You’ve never known what your place is.”

“You may be right on that front, except that that problem is typically never mine.”

“Right, because you’re such a bother to everyone else.”

“Sheesh. You sound just like Lucifer.”

Gabriel does not need to look to feel Michael’s glare.

“Sorry. A rough spot, huh?”

Michael looks up above, somewhere he can sense the others preparing for the great reveal.

“Both he and I agree on the plan. It is inevitable.”

“Right. The Plan. The Grand Showdown. It’s Heaven versus Hell, so get your tickets early! You guys got the date picked out already?”

“Two thousand years or so from now.”

“Oh. You actually have one. I was only joking.”

“There is still a number of uncertainties that have to be worked out, and I don’t trust Lucifer to do everything exactly as we have planned…”

“But it is written, and so it shall be. Have you ever thought that Dad might be trying to roleplay his conflict with Amara through the two of you? I’m not going to be the last person to say this, but he should deal with his trauma in a healthier way than that.”

“I think you’ve spent too much time among the humans.”

“Right, because that’s such a bad thing.”

“That’s why you’re here, aren’t you? Father never said anything about you being here for this part.”

Gabriel does not say anything to that.

“Gabriel.” Michael watches his brother with something not unlike pity, even if in angelic terms. “For whatever it’s worth, I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thought you loved all of Dad’s decisions.”

“I love Father, yes. But I love you, too.”

Michael flies away in a snap, not giving Gabriel even the slightest chance to respond, but it’s not like Gabriel does not know where his brother went. In just a few minutes, Michael will tell the people of Jerusalem that the Son of God has risen. 

The Messenger of God takes one last look at the city and flies somewhere he can mourn in peace.

//

Yehoshua stands tall, both feet on land, his face towards the heavens. Great books will speak of a Holy Spirit inhabiting his blood vessels, shimmering through his skin. It is his second first day alive, and there’s nothing quite like it.

He stands on the edge of a cliff, only mere moments ago having been inside a tomb. Beside him stands Archangel Michael, or so the man has introduced himself as.

“Is there something we are waiting for?” Yehoshua asks.

Michael looks at him, looks through him, and turns away, without saying anything.

I dare say we are, Yehoshua thinks, but is unable to voice any other questions before a bright light appears before him.

The light shifts, swirls, and dances, and Yehoshua knows he’s in the presence of God himself.

The man does not see Michael leave, but after a few moments, he is all alone with his Father.

“I love you,” Yehoshua speaks, as that is the greatest truth he’s ever known.

I know you do, the light reflects, shimmers. I need you to do something for me.

“Anything,” the man says. “Anything at all.”

God smiles on a Sunday morning.

//

Castiel brings Yochanan back to where he found him. He looks around the pasture: the hills in the far edges of what a human eye may see, the rivers, the cities that are not yet set ablaze by the merciless sunlight.

Maybe there is some truth to what Gabriel has said about him. Maybe there is a route Castiel can take to learn to love every single grain of sand and every single newborn mouse that shall ever be. There lies a certain pride in being able to do what your parents have told you to the best out of everyone else.

“Hello, Castiel.”

The angel turns and sees his Father stand next to him as a man - tall, beautiful, and incandescent.

“How are you, dear son?”

“I am… I am good.”

“That’s good. Are you happy?”

Castiel only shrugs. God nods in solemn understanding.

“You can speak to me freely, Castiel. I know you’ve talked to Gabriel.”

“Am I to be punished for it?”

“Do you think you should be?”

“I know I won’t remember my conversation with Gabriel upon my return to Heaven. And I think you’ll make me forget I’ve met you as well.”

“You are correct. You’re not afraid of me?”

“I love you. Must it come from fear?”

God looks upon his son in a recognition of spirit. “I’ve made human souls to be the beacons of my power. You know there is not a single entity in all existence that is purer. When it comes in contact with divinity, such as Gabriel allowed in his caprice, it may become unstable. I am simply containing the power within this body.”

“Would Gabriel not have been able to do so?”

God laughs. “Gabriel likes playing gods and monsters, but he won’t ever be either. This man, this child will be a symbol of my love for all humanity.”

Castiel thinks of the tallest tower, of the golden bull, and of the stone thrown at a giant. “Symbols have caused pain in the past.”

“And so they have.”

“What will be of the man after you leave him behind?”

“I shall welcome him in Heaven.”

“Will you tell him about Gabriel then?”

God shakes his head and smiles.

Castiel understands. At least he thinks he does.

//

God watches as Castiel leaves his human vessel and returns home. He knows what is to be written. He sees Castiel in the flames of hell, reaching for the Righteous Man. For whatever reason, he cannot see much further than that.

He lets Yehoshua take the wheel. Gabriel's spark is not diminished by another holy presence, and the man shines in his pleasure to see the evidence of divine love all around him. There's purity within him that God craves. He knows he will miss this, even if its creation was born out of an imperfect union.

He misses the time when his children stood together. When his sister knew what she wanted. Now, all there is left is a canvas he keeps covering in new layers of paint.

He misses Lucifer the most. The brightest star of them all, even now, even in the darkest of corners, until a sequence of events leads to his freedom. Of course, he'll blame his Father for everything, but God can live with that.

Moreso, he shall learn from this experience and give his favorite son a child, too. The world will have a new hope, Lucifer will have a reflection of his brightness, and himself - a failsafe existence for when the meek inherit the Earth.

Yochanan the shepherd stands up and faces God. What's in a name? the Holy Father thinks, and sends the man home. What a good name.

God pulls out a notepad and a pen and writes it down: Yochanan. Jonathan. Jack.