#thinking about how angels leave a tiny piece of their grace inside every vessel

[fallenangelblade]

the thing about midam is that it only strengthens my conviction that we should have gotten to see dean as cas’ vessel at LEAST once

[destiel-love-forever]

15.3 CODA: Part 2

Read part one [HERE]

Castiel wakes just as the sun is rising. Despite not getting much sleep, he feels rested and ready to take on the day. As rested and ready as possible under the circumstances, anyway. The coffee pot is full of dark liquid that’s still warm. A yellow sticky note is stuck to the front of the machine, neat writing informing him that Jody had to go into work early, and telling him to help himself to anything he needs until she’s back at four P.M.

After pouring himself a cup of coffee, Castiel walks over to the two large sliding glass doors by the kitchen table and heads outside. The air is cool and crisp, but it feels nice. Refreshing. Castiel leans on the railing of the wooden deck and looks out at the brilliant colors of the back yard. The leaves are breathtaking.

“It’s freezing out here,” Castiel hears from the sliding doors. He glances over his shoulder and forces a smile when he sees Claire standing there.

“I don’t mind.”

She gives him a critical look before stepping out onto the porch and offering him a blanket, hat, scarf, and mittens. When he stares at them instead of taking them from her, she rolls her eyes. “You’re such a doof. Come here.”

When Castiel approaches her, she tugs the burgundy hat over his head, then winds the scarf around his neck. He gets with the program and gives her his coffee so she can hold it while he puts the mittens on as well. After, she wraps the flannel blanket around his shoulders and pats him on the shoulder.

“Much better,” Claire declares. Castiel just now notices that she’s dressed similarly, her black jacket matched with a black hat, a gray scarf, and a pair of mittens that are black with white and gray polka dots. She gives him his coffee back and smiles. “Now, you go ahead and do your weird staring off into space thing that you were just doing, but when you’re done, come inside. We have a long day ahead of us.”

“We do?”

“Yup. All sorts of plans.”

“We have plans? You and I?” Castiel asks, trying to clarify.

She rolls her eyes. “And Alex, too, yup. Chop chop.”

With two claps of her mitted hands, she heads back inside. He stares at the sliding door for another moment before turning his focus back to the trees.

“What in the world could they have planned with me?” he asks the myriad of red, yellow, and orange.

The trees don’t answer.

Just another reason to hate Chuck.

----

The first stop on their schedule is to a bakery. Castiel, Alex, and Claire all get something to drink and eat before hopping back in the car. As they drive, Claire and Alex talk to each other in a constant babble, letting Castiel be as he enjoys his hot cocoa and blueberry muffin. He's feeling much better now that his stomach is full and he's decently rested. Claire must be able to sense this, because she broaches the subject they've all clearly been avoiding as Alex pulls the car into a store parking lot.

"How are you, Cas? Jody said it was a rough night?"

"Rough few days," Castiel says quietly, looking down at his empty to-go cup. "I'll be fine, though. I am always fine."

There's a pause long enough for him to glance up. He finds that both girls are now frowning at him. "What?"

"Well, you're talking to two experts on pretending to be fine when you're really a fucking mess, so don't bullshit us," Claire says matter-of-factly.

"What Claire meant to say in a much kinder way, I'm sure," Alex says with an eye roll, "Is that you don't have to pretend with us. We don't have to talk about it, but feel free to do so. Or to just be sad or whatever else you feel like being. Okay?"

Castiel nods, understanding. "Okay."

"Great. Now, let's fix your coat."

Looking down at his trench coat, Castiel asks, “What’s wrong with my coat?”

“First of all, it’s thin, and you’re clearly more human now considering the way you scarfed down that muffin, so you need something warmer,” Alex explains. “It’s nearly winter now. You’re going to be too cold in that, Cas.”

“Oh.”

“Plus, that thing is atrocious, and old. My dad got that for Christmas when I was like… five. Time for a change, dude.”

Castiel doesn’t like change. He’s had enough damn change in his life recently. Eleven years ago, he commanded a garrison. He was one of Michael’s chosen few. Was given the privilege to save the righteous man. Michael’s true vessel. It was one of the highest honors.

He was respected.

He was feared.

Then he fell in love with humanity. With Dean, if we’re being honest. Those freckles that were like a galaxy on pale skin. Those green eyes that held so many questions and even more answers.

Castiel lost it all.

But he’ll tell ya what - he still has this trench coat. It’s been to hell and back - more than once. It’s all he has left.

That’s why, even though he’s shown multiple options, given at least a dozen eye rolls, and told twice that he’s a doof, Castiel walks out of the coat store with something very similar to his trusty trench coat, just made of wool instead so it’s warmer.

----  

Pumpkin patches are wondrous places. Castiel had assumed it'd be a small farm with pumpkins everywhere, but that's not the case. At least not here. Yes, there are pumpkins. Many, many pumpkins, all of different shapes, sizes, and even colors. But there are also apples - an entire orchard of gorgeous red apples. There’s a corn maze, which Castiel finds both entertaining and frustrating. He gets lost so many times before a five or six year old child takes pity on him by leading him out. It was still a lot of fun, even if Alex and Claire teased him for being terrible at it.

They went for a hayride, too. The farm provided them with big flannel blankets and hot cocoa as they rode in the back, brought around the entire farm, the man driving telling them fascinating information on the crops and harvest, as well as the history of the area and the farm. Then they got to pet the farm animals. Castiel became fond of a horse that enjoyed licking his face. He even giggled, which felt very good to be honest.

Of course, Castiel’s favorite part of their day at the farm was the Bakery & Farm Store. He’s never tasted anything so delicious. They sat at a little table for over an hour, stuffing their faces until Castiel nearly got sick. Between the three of them sharing their treats, they all tried apple cider donuts, cinnamon rolls, strawberry crepes, apple pie, strawberry cream cheese danish, chocolate covered croissants, strawberry rhubarb pie, blueberry muffins, and caramel apple pie. The little old lady running the place liked them so much, she shared her pumpkin pie recipe with Castiel, who promised he’d go home and make it that night.

They left the farm with seven pumpkins, two bags of apples, a dozen apple cider donuts - which were Castiel’s favorite - and caramel apples to-go. By the time Castiel got to the car, he was full, happy, and exhausted. It was the perfect combo to curl up in the backseat and take a little snooze during their long ride home.

He fell asleep smiling.

----

Dean is wide awake despite it being the middle of the night. He's been stalking Castiel's Instagram. Yes. Instagram. Apparently Claire and Alex thought he needed one. Dean only has the damn thing to stalk Dr. Sexy MD actors, but now he's using it to stalk a certain falling angel he can't stop thinking about.

Since he saw the first picture, Dean has been refreshing the page every other minute. It had been a picture taken by Claire, which is how Dean originally came across it, with Castiel tagged in it. He was standing outside, wrapped in a flannel blanket and drinking something from a mug as he stared off at the colorful backyard. Claire's caption had been: Finally finding his peace.

That was at 4:07 P.M, though clearly it had been taken much earlier in the day.

Suffice to say, Dean has gotten nothing accomplished tonight. He hasn't even eaten dinner. All he's done is sit in his room, drink whiskey, and refresh the page.

At 4:37 P.M, there had been the first two photos uploaded by Castiel himself. One was of him reaching up to pluck a leaf off of a tree. The other was just his mitted hand holding the same leaf. The caption for the two was a simple: My favorite.

Dean ached at the fact he wasn't there. He wondered what Castiel's face looked like when he caught sight off this one perfect leaf. Wondered if he had smiled when he finally got it in his hands. Wondered if Castiel still had the leaf, or if he had easily tossed it onto the ground after the photo, just like Dean had done to him.

At 4:42 P.M, Claire uploaded a few photos. One was of Castiel in his new coat and winter gear Dean noticed in the previous photos. He was smiling at something off to the side, a pumpkin patch lined by colorful trees behind him. The next was of Castiel's mittens holding a blue travel coffee mug. Then a photo of Castiel's torso as he holds a pumpkin. Dean knew it was Castiel because of the tiny scar on his thumb. It was from nicking himself with an angel blade last week. With his lowered grace, it hasn't healed properly. Dean had to choke down a new wave of guilt at that reminder before he could look at the final photo. It was of the girls and Castiel around a table where they seemed to be carving pumpkins. They were laughing.

Castiel was wearing a new sweater.

At 5:13 P.M, Castiel posted a photo of a carved pumpkin. It was quite awful. The eyes were different sizes, the nose was partially cut out, but the piece of pumpkin was still stuck inside of it for some reason, and the smile was… unique. The caption was: Claire said I 'nailed it.'

Dean had to wait two hours for another photo. And that's what he did. He waited. Did nothing but drink and hate himself. And, of course, refresh the page.

At 7:22 P.M, Castiel finally posted another photo. It made Dean's heart skip. Well… the caption had, anyway. The pumpkin pie itself was a bit shaky, considering the darker-than-they-should-be edges. But the caption had brought tears to Dean's eyes. It would have tasted better with you.

Dean had tried calling Claire after that. Then Alex. Then Claire again. They ignored him. When he tried calling Jody, she sent a text back saying she was at work, asking if it was an emergency.

With a fresh glass of whiskey, he had waited.

At 8:36 P.M, Castiel posted two more pictures. One of someone making a s'more, a bonfire in the background. The other, two pairs of feet wearing wool socks as they rest up against the side of the fire pit. To the right were blue socks with little snowflakes on them. To the left were bright yellow socks covered in bumble bees.

Dean knew which one was Castiel.

The caption was a simple: Happy.

It made Dean curl into his pillow and cry.

The last one that Dean saw was at 11:57 P.M. It showed Castiel sitting on a bed, holding a purple mug with Witch Please written on it in one hand, and holding an open book in the other. He was in a gray hooded sweater, his legs covered with a blanket the same color as his gorgeous eyes. It was captioned: "It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live."

It's at 3:09 A.M. that Dean realizes Castiel must have fallen asleep.

He crawls under the covers and closes his eyes after, heart racing even though it has no reason to be. It takes a while for the whiskey soaked exhaustion to win over his mind, but eventually Dean slips into a dream.

Castiel is there. In a pumpkin patch. He looks at Dean with a smile and hands him a beautiful leaf. "My favorite for my favorite."

And Dean kisses him.

He kisses him like his life depends on it.

He kisses him like he knows, deep down, that he'll soon have to wake up.

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[winchester-ofthe-lord]

A Quiet Mind

Pairing: Castiel x Dean Winchester

Warnings: dark thoughts/depression, Dean is emotionally constipated af, does that count as a warning?

Additional tags: depressed Castiel, human Castiel, first kiss, idiots in love

Word Count: 2.8k

Challenge: Destiel Fresh Hits

Prompt: quiet

Summary: Castiel was sitting on the roof of the bunker and looked up at the starry night sky. He’d been sitting there for at least three or four hours now, maybe more. A single tear trickled down his cheek, across his jaw, over his chin, and dropped onto the back of his own hand. It’s such a secret place, the land of tears…

read on ao3

Castiel was sitting on the roof of the bunker and looked up at the starry night sky. He’d been sitting there for at least three or four hours now, maybe more. Who knew how much time had actually passed since he got up there.

A cool waft of air waved by every once in a while, leaving the skin on his arms prickle with goosebumps, sending painfully tingling shivers through his entire body.

He could hear the rustling of trees around him, the faint static noise from far away cars driving on the highway close to the bunker every now and then, crickets chittering in the distance. Yet, it felt as if he was the only being left on earth. Loneliness seeped into his very core.

The cold had numbed his legs to the point where he didn’t feel, didn’t even care about it anymore. Only his fingers were aching, throbbing against the breeze as he clenched his fists into his numb thighs.

A single tear trickled down his cheek, across his jaw, over his chin, and dropped onto the back of his own hand. It’s such a secret place, the land of tears…

He felt comfortable in the darkness. It’s soothing and painful at once, pulling him into the void of nothingness, emptiness, blackness, inside and out. Castiel was nothing surrounded by nothing. A tiny, irrelevant, unimportant speck in the middle of futility.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

That’s it. That’s what he was doing now. Every day. For the rest of his pathetic human lifetime. Breathing. Existing.

Castiel looked up at the sky again, teeth clenched so hard it hurt, more acidic tears burning in his eyes, but not leaving them. It was pointless anyway.

He used to be an angel. An actual angel. Wings and all. Closing his eyes, he tried to concentrate. Focus the way he had hundreds of thousands of times before, in a vain attempt to find at least a minuscule, barely there remnant of his grace somewhere inside of him. But it was futile, aimless. It was gone. And so was his last flicker of hope.

Irretrievably.

He used to be an angel. And now, now he was nothing.

Where he felt a connection to his Host, his family, for the billions of years of his existence; where he heard their voices, sensed their presence, even across various planes of reality, through the veils of universes; where he listened to prayers, able to perceive everything the world had to offer, now there was just...nothing. Nothing in a sea of nothingness. And Castiel in the midst of it.

He swallowed the suffocating lump in his throat and took another deep breath, let his head nod forward, burying his face in his hands. His fingers dug painfully into his own skin, scratching, tearing at it, but the numbness didn’t let him feel anything. Didn’t let him feel real anymore. He wasn’t even sure if it really was the coldness, or if the last piece of life inside him had died eventually.

Another shudder rushed through his body. He was a shivering, trembling, empty vessel, shaken by biting cold and despair, slumped down into itself, infinitely small on the roof of the massive underground building beneath him. Why was he even still alive?

The deafening silence was disrupted by the creaking of a solid steel door behind him, followed by the thumping of heavy boots and a relieved, out of breath, “Thank God, Cas, here you are.”

Castiel didn’t react. Didn’t look up at the other man standing above him now, didn’t even bother wiping away his tears. He kept staring blankly in front of him, into the darkness, at nothing. An inward stare, roaming the mirrored void of the vast blackness around him.

“Dammit Cas, I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” the man above him griped in between ragged pants, “I was worried, man! You- You can’t just run off and disappear for hours and- you can’t do that, Cas!” There was anger in his voice alongside deep concern.

Once again, Castiel didn’t react. Was still staring dead ahead, still silently trembling, still just breathing.

“Cas!”

He didn’t move. Couldn’t move. Maybe he just didn’t try hard enough. He never did. That’s why everything he ever did, everything he ever touched, had always been destined to fail eventually.

“Cas?” This time the other man’s voice was a lot softer, timid almost. Anxious. The man crouched down next to Castiel, his next words a low hum in Cas’ ears, spoken with so much solicitude it all but hurt, “Cas... what’s wrong?”

He still couldn’t move. He still didn’t try hard enough.

Castiel’s vision was getting blurry again and another tear slowly burned its way across the cold skin of his face against his will. He shut his eyes as more tears welled up.

He felt a strong hand grab his shoulder, its warmth seeping through the thin fabric of his shirt, slowly fighting against the torpid numbness as the grip tightened. The hand shook his shoulder, apparently trying to evoke some kind of reaction from him, something, anything. But he was just tired. Numb. Empty.

“Dammit Cas, talk to me,” the man whispered. He sounded hopeless, almost desperate now. “Please.”

He heard the words, the commiseration in the other man’s voice. But he couldn’t even open his eyes. Let alone stop his silent tears. How was he supposed to talk to this kind-hearted man who cared so genuinely about him? How was he supposed to put in words what tore him apart, how everything inside him was just shattered pieces of the man- of the angel he used to be, and how sorry he felt for being so goddamn useless? How was he supposed to apologize for being a burden to the brothers? How should he-

His train of thought broke off the second he felt the gentle but steady touch of a warm palm on his jaw, cupping his cheek and carefully turning his face to the side. He still didn’t dare open his eyes as a careful thumb stroked the wetness from his skin.

“Cas, look at me,” the man breathed.

Castiel gritted his teeth, swallowed thickly, took a deep breath and exhaled sharply through his nose. It wasn’t easy not to start sobbing, but he managed to stay quiet as he slowly opened his eyes. He kept his gaze aimed at the floor, but the hand lifted his chin, until Castiel couldn’t help but look into his favorite shade of green.

“God, you’re freezing cold.” The warm hands stopped touching his shoulder and his face, leaving him exposed to the night air, and even colder than before. It was only for a few short moments, however, as the other man wrapped a warmed jacket around Cas’ shoulders before he took his face into both hands this time. “Cas, whatever you’re thinking right now? It’s not true. It’s wrong, okay?”

One of the man’s thumbs wiped below Castiel’s eye again, “Cas, you can’t just sit here and freeze to death. You’re shaking. You’re not impervious to coldness anymore, you have to take care of yourself, okay? You’re not-”

“An angel anymore,” Cas interrupted him with a breathless growl, “I know that, Dean.” He huffed through his nose once more, sniffed through his tears, “I know that I’m not- that I can’t-” He couldn’t find the words, didn’t know how to explain any of his feelings. He took another deep breath, “It’s so... quiet in my head, Dean. It’s so quiet and I don’t- I’m... alone now, don’t you understand that?” He lowered his eyes and turned his face away from Dean, away from the warm touch of his hands. “I’m alone and I lost everything. I lost myself. I’m an empty shell. Not useful for you anymore.”

“Is that what this is about? Not being useful for me ‘n Sam? Goddammit, Cas-” Dean forced Cas to look at him again by taking his face back into his hands, a lot more vigorous and determined than the first time- “Stop limiting yourself to unimportant things! It was never about your angel powers. Yes, they were helpful at times, but it was never about that! And you’re not alone for fucks sake.”

Dean shut his eyes and clenched his jaw, “Cas, you’re not alone. I may not understand what it feels like to be cut off from the Host or whatever. Or what it’s like to be an angel. But I do know what it’s like to be human, to not hear prayers and voices all the time, and it’s not that bad, okay?” His eyes found Cas’ again, “A quiet mind is a good thing, Cas, believe me. There’s worse things than being human. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and start to accept that you don’t need to be an angel to be useful or needed or-”

“I’m not needed, Dean,” Castiel spoke up. He was almost yelling the words in Dean’s face. “I’m not needed,” he repeated quietly, barely louder than the cold wind rustling in the trees.

“But you are, don’t you-” Dean shook his head, looked back at Cas. He licked over his bottom lip and stroked tenderly over Castiel’s cheekbone, “Cas, I do need you. Not your combat skills, not angel radio, not your powers. I need you!”

Castiel huffed a humorless laugh, “What would you need me for? I’m nothing but a burden.”

“You really think that, don’t you?”

“Because it is true.”

Dean just glowered at Cas, eyebrows knitted in a deep frown. “It’s not. But can we please go back inside and talk there, it’s really fucking cold out here.”

Castiel shuffled out of the jacket and handed it back to Dean, “Here.”

Dean didn’t take the jacket though. He didn’t stop glaring at Cas. “Why are you punishing yourself?”

“I’m not. Go back inside, Dean. You don’t need to be here.” Castiel pressed the jacket against Dean’s chest, trying to make him take it.

“You don’t need to be here either, Cas. Please come with me, you really need to warm up,” Dean said and pushed himself up from the cold floor of the roof, ignoring the jacket. Instead, he held a hand out for Cas.

His limbs were a dead, numb weight attached to his exhausted body, and refused move the way he wanted. If Dean hadn’t caught him after pulling him up, Castiel would’ve simply slumped down again.

But Dean didn’t let go of Cas afterwards. Even after several minutes passed, he was still holding onto Cas, arms tightly wrapped around him, the jacket uncomfortably pressed between them.

“I need you, Cas,” Dean breathed into Castiel’s ear. It was so quiet he almost didn’t hear it. “I need you, because-”

Castiel could hear Dean swallow thickly, but he didn’t continue. It felt good to be enveloped in the arms of the man he’d loved for so long he didn’t even remember how it felt to not be in love. But it was painful, too. He knew Dean would never feel the same way for him, would never see him as more than a brother.

That was the other reason why his life as a human bothered him so much. Having his grace as a barrier to shield his own feelings made it easier to blank out his love for Dean. Or at least blank out the pain of his love being unrequited. But now? Now he felt everything, felt the twinge in his heart, the nauseating twist in his stomach, the neverending ache of not being whole.

The longer they were standing in the cold night, the more painful it felt to hug Dean. To experience how it could feel to actually be with him was tormenting, because it’s easier to never know how good it could be, than to know and always miss it.

But he didn’t want to let go either. If he was already standing there, he might as well savor every moment of it.

And then Dean loosened his grip around Cas.

But he didn’t step away. Several seconds ticked by agonizingly slow.

“Cas, I-” Dean started hesitantly and looked into Cas’ eyes again, “I don’t know how to tell you- how to make you believe that you’re so much more than an angel, or a simple human for that matter. You’re so much more than that, Cas. You’re- everything.” He brought his hands up to Cas’ face again and whispered, “Why can’t you see that?”

“Dean-” What was he even going to say? No? You’re terribly wrong? I’m nothing? I’m useless and I don’t deserve these words? He gulped the lump in his throat down, tried to get more space between himself and the man that made it hard to think straight when being that close, but Dean didn’t let him.

Green eyes full of sorrow and sympathy stared into Castiel’s soul, seemingly baring every single one of his thoughts and emotions as Dean opened his mouth again, “Why can’t you see that I-” he pressed his eyes shut- “how much you mean to me?”

Castiel felt sick. He knew, no matter how much he meant to Dean, he’d never love him. Not the way Castiel loved Dean. He wanted to run, wanted to scream, wanted to dissolve into nothingness.

“I can’t lose you, Cas.”

He closed his eyes, couldn’t look at Dean anymore. At the pained expression in his eyes. It hurt too much.

Castiel’s legs were still numb up to the thighs, and the wind was still howling relentlessly in the treetops. Even though he couldn’t see it, he knew Dean must’ve been freezing too, shaking just as much as the trees around them and as Castiel himself. Why didn’t he just leave? Maybe- maybe if Cas just waited long enough, Dean would eventually go back inside. Maybe if he stood there long enough, he’d simply disappear one day. Eaten by the empty void in- and outside of him, forgotten by everyone Castiel ever cared about.

He’d just have to wait long enough.

“Did you hear that?” Dean asked through clenched teeth, voice trembling from the cold, or maybe his emotions, who knew?

Castiel blinked his eyes open. What should he have heard? He squinted at Dean, at least he attempted to, but his face was as numb as the rest of his body.

“I said I can’t lose you, Cas” Dean repeated, “Do you understand that? I can’t lose you.” He looked as if he’d just realized something himself. He was still frowning when he cupped Cas’ jaw once more.

Before Castiel knew what was happening, he felt the warm press of soft lips against his own. It was a chaste, gentle touch and it didn’t last long enough. He didn’t know if that really happened. It could’ve been just his imagination playing tricks.

The two men stared at each other, sharing their breath for several heartbeats in silence, both slightly shivering.

“Cas, I’m-” Dean started and scrubbed a hand over his face- “No. You know what? I’m not sorry.”

How could Dean say that? He didn’t love Cas, he didn’t want this, didn’t want them to be... more. He’d made that clear more than once.

Castiel swallowed dryly and tried to gather his thoughts, tried to find the words he was looking for, the words he wanted to tell Dean. But whatever words his mind came up with, they weren’t what he really needed to say.

So instead of looking for words he might never find, he raised the hand that wasn’t still holding Dean’s jacket to the other man’s face. He wanted this. And if this was the only moment he’d get, then he wanted to at least experience it for the fullest.

He couldn’t really feel the scruff under his palm, his fingers were far too numb by now, but what he could feel were Dean’s pliant lips as they met his own again.

He could also feel Dean’s hands on his neck and in his hair, sliding down to his waist to pull him closer. He could feel Dean’s chest against his own, his heart pounding in his ribcage. And he could feel Dean’s tongue licking at the seam of his lips.

He felt, as well as heard the deep hum vibrating through his entire body when Dean moaned contentedly into Castiel’s mouth, not knowing where Dean’s tongue ended and Cas’ begun.

And there it was, something changed, Castiel’s mind wasn’t empty, wasn’t quiet anymore. Dean’s ragged breathing echoed through his head when they broke their kiss to get some air, his pleased moans filled the empty nothingness as their tongues met again.

When Castiel heard Dean breathe his name with a concerned undertone, he noticed the wetness on his own cheeks. He blinked his eyes open to see a worried, uneasy expression on Dean’s face.

“I-” Castiel traced a finger along Dean’s jaw, down to his shoulder and all the way to his hand that was gripping Cas’ waist to hold him close. He wrapped his fingers around Dean’s wrist and pulled his hand away from his body, causing Dean’s expression to falter for the brief moment it took Cas to intertwine their fingers. “I think I’d like to go back inside now,” he said, “It’s really cold out here and you’re not even wearing a jacket.”

special thanks to @cr-noble-writes <3 you helped me a lot, and sorry for all my whining and rambling and ranting 

Taglist: @demoninflannel @leatherandapplepies @cross-roads-blues @casbeanwrites @thefandomforme @petrichoravellichor

let me know if you want to be added to/removed from this list :)

[webcricket]

Looking Glass

Chapter 24 - Heaven is a Place on Earth

Pairing: CastielXAU!Reader

Word Count: 1611

Summary: The seraph and his love settle into the relative normalcy of life in the bunker - how long will the honeymoon last? Warning for a suggestively erotic non-explicit adult situation. One more chapter remains before we bid adieu. Parting is such sweet sorrow.

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Staring into the two by two crate repurposed as luggage overflowing with stuff set on the end of the bed, the surge of a smile crests your cheeks. The gladness arises not from the realization the relatively small container holds more superfluous crap than you’ve owned in years – most of the items totally unnecessary for basic survival and impractical for travelling light – it’s the notion of putting down roots, calling somewhere home, and having the comfort of someone with which to share the physical and emotional space such a home represents that draws out the manifestation of pure delight.

Grasp sliding along the sides of the wooden box to lock into the notched handles, ginger on the roughened surface to avoid splinters, you drift a final glimpse around the stripped bunker room where you first woke up in this strange and wonderful world – the very same day you met a seraph who challenged your beliefs about celestial beings and whose kindness and persistent, although not always patient, concern changed everything.

It was Cas’ idea, moving in – air quotes implicit – with him. Practically speaking, since you spend whatever free time you have together, well, together, the proposal made sense; especially considering other refugees live crammed into storage cells sleeping on stacks of dusty file folders in lieu of mattresses and stowing their sundries on shelves lined with lore books in languages too ancient to comprehend.

“Oh, uh, sorry-” a voice pitched to tinny heights by nerves meekly announces itself from the shadow of the hall door standing ajar.

Your glance shifts to a girl burdened beneath a backpack and shrouded in stained jeans and a tattered olive-colored jacket ringed by a dingy faux-fur collar. You recognize the youthful porcelain features and furtively darting eyes of the young woman and smile warmly. “Hi, Maggie. Come on in.”

In an undertaking of momentous effort given the weight strapped to her shoulders, she strains a step inward and bends, nearly buckling to the floor with it as the backpack lands inside the threshold with a dense thud. Evidently she never caught on to the adage of packing light. Nevertheless, she survived. “Sam said this room would be open in the afternoon-” She peers at a non-existent watch on her wrist, rubs the bare flesh in self-conscious habit, and hides the whole hand in her pocket. “I-I guess I’m a little early.”

“Right on time,” you reassure. Without the fallout filtered shine of the sun, you’re not yet used to reckoning time here in the artificially-lit depths of the bunker either. “I was just clearing out.” Focus flitting to the hole in her pocket where her buried fingers fidget, you remember a magenta jacket worn once mixed in amidst your surplus bounty of belongings. “Hey, I have something you might like.” Rifling through the box, you yank out the article and toss it in her direction.

She dives to catch the fabric projectile, strokes the satiny finish, admires the color, and stares up at you; an unuttered – Are you sure? – glimmers in her wide-eyed gaze.

“I don’t really need two coats, you know?”  You resettle the rumpled contents of the crate. “And the color compliments you.”

“Thank you!” She beams; the gift, along with the compliment, opens the proverbial floodgates of sociability. “You’re with the angel, right?”

Right. The skin on your nape crawls – the bunker’s a tiny place these days with so many people occupying it and every single one of them damn well knows you’re with the angel. Sam made it a point to involve you in aiding the other survivors as they adapt to this world in order to break down the barriers of your angelic intimacy inhibiting them from trusting you. You get it – once upon a time you thought all angels were dicks, too. Defensive instinct kicks in at her comment. “His name is Castiel.” You direct the grit of the answer into the tenseness of the fists grabbing the edges of the box. A sliver punctures your pinky.

She looks at her feet, blushing, apologetic. “I didn’t mean-” she mumbles, meets your eyes to express sincerity– “I meant, what’s it like? Being with-”

“An angel?” you finish the query, biting the inside of your lower lip in self-recrimination for getting riled over the friendly conversation of a curious and grateful girl. “Sorry, I just … I’ve heard some of what the others say about us. He’s a good guy and what we have, it feels really … normal.”

“Normal-” She smiles, irises wistfully glazing and rolling upward in reflection– “that sounds nice.”

Heaving the box up to balance on the slope of your hip, you clasp her arm commiseratively as you shimmy past, ignoring the shard of wood stinging your skin. “I’ve learned anything is possible in this world. You can have that now, too – normal, nice. It’s safe here. I promise.”

“Safe.” She mouths the word, swallows the syllable in wonderment as you disappear into the hallway. Spinning to study the barren beige walls of the room, seeing possibilities in the blank canvas, bending to pick up her pack and drag it toward the dresser, she says the word again, imbuing the sound with confidence of truth. Of belief. “Safe.”

Perception perked, smile snagged at the corner of his mouth, Cas follows the sweetly noted treasure of a song to the yawning entryway of his quarters; his, he reminds himself, and as of today, yours, too. He stops to watch your figure swaying in front of the dresser, humming an unidentifiable and melodic tune as you fold pieces of clothing and tuck them into the drawers.

With you inhabiting the space, the light of the room glows significantly warmer; the cold décor seems somehow cozier. The room was never one he sought out before, never a place he felt a particular connection to aside from the fact Dean deemed number 15 as officially in angelic possession when it became clear the heavenly dispossessed being had unofficially blessed the bunker as his official home base; Dean happened to be half in the bag drunk that night and the bestowment of the bedroom may have been purely so the hammered hunter could slur some smirked joke about an Inception-style movie meta of an occupied vessel occupying a room.

The muffled shutting of the top drawer and scrape asunder of the one below tugs Cas into the present. He worried asking you to stay with him so early in your relationship might be perceived as presumptuous on his part. This world may be novel to you, but as an angel the navigational nuances of a loving liaison exist in a land foreign to him – one discovered, explored, and mapped out piece by piece with every moment you share. There’s no doubt in his heart and mind he loves you; and yet, he is also learning how to love you day by day.

Heeding to the guidance of the naturally arising – albeit frequently hedonistic in origin – impulses afflicting his vessel when in your presence has proven useful. He succumbs to one such an urge now, treading noiselessly across the threshold to slot his body against yours; skimming his hands over your stomach, he sinks his stubbly chin to your neck to stamp a kiss upon the delicate skin. “How was your day, my love?”

Laughter of surprise lilting your tongue, folded tee held aloft in your fingers tumbling to the floor, you relax into his rigid physique and stretch your neck to give his ticklish affections ample and unrestricted access. “Good – great, now that you’re here. How’d it go with the ghoul?”

He groans, a vibration of breath ghosting your ear.

“That good, huh?” you tease. In the mirror mounted above the dresser, you observe him nuzzle the sensitive spot below your ear until, lashes lowering in delight, you shudder and squirm, weak-kneed with a knot of anticipation forming in your belly.

They – he, Sam, and Dean in a tag-team trio – have tried to set a routine of hunting to keep Jack distracted, to train those of the refugees who are willing to fight a different foe. No one is talking about the impossibility of returning to the apocalypse world to take Michael to task. Deep down, for all the speeches and good intentions, no one really wants to go back; and without an archangel, that door is mercifully closed.

When he lets up in his worshipful ministrations, your eyelids flutter open to meet the eclipsed blue of his reflected gaze. “I missed you, angel.”

“I missed you, too.” His fingertips test the heated waters of flesh beneath the hem of your shirt, sparking grace where they caress and a blissful aching in your nethers. “I heard you praying – perceived your longing.” The digits wander below your navel, lifting the elastic band of your shorts to stray further still. “Those prayers – they’re inappropriate as far as holy entreaties go, don’t you think?” Arching a brow, the smile brimming to scrunch his eyes and nose tells you he enjoyed every licentious word.

“Yes, Cas,” you purr, less acknowledgment of impiousness, more yearning. Fingers wrap the seraph’s wrist and push his pursuit of your pleasure permissively toward its goal.

“Dean found another case,” he murmurs and nips at the shell of your earlobe, “we leave in a few hours.”

“So soon?” You gasp the last word, thighs trembling as his fingers and their tingling grace glide home to sheath your senses from all but the seraph’s touch.

He groans again into your neck, softly speaks in a gravelly choked cadence you’ve come to comprehend is Enochian. You don’t know the precise meaning; you can guess.

Next: Ch. 25 - Corollaries

[hazardousgrace]

Before the Monster, I Was Me

Chapter 1: The Monster in His Head “The Creation 1In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. 2The earth was formless and void, and darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was moving over the surface of the waters. 3Then God said, “Let there be light”; and there was light. 4God saw that the light was good; and God separated the light from the darkness. 5God called the light day, and the darkness He called night. And there was evening and there was morning, one day. 6Then God said, “Let there be an expanse in the midst of the waters, and let it separate the waters from the waters.” 7God made the expanse, and separated the waters which were below the expanse from the waters which were above the expanse; and it was so. 8God called the expanse heaven. And there was evening and there was morning, a second day. 9Then God said, “Let the waters below the heavens be gathered into one place, and let the dry land appear”; and it was so. 10God called the dry land earth, and the gathering of the waters He called seas; and God saw that it was good. 11Then God said, “Let the earth sprout vegetation, plants yielding seed, and fruit trees on the earth bearing fruit after their kind with seed in them”; and it was so. 12The earth brought forth vegetation, plants yielding seed after their kind, and trees bearing fruit with seed in them, after their kind; and God saw that it was good. 13There was evening and there was morning, a third day. 14Then God said, “Let there be lights in the expanse of the heavens to separate the day from the night, and let them be for signs and for seasons and for days and years; 15and let them be for lights in the expanse of the heavens to give light on the earth”; and it was so. 16God made the two great lights, the greater light to govern the day, and the lesser light to govern the night; He made the stars also. 17God placed them in the expanse of the heavens to give light on the earth, 18and to govern the day and the night, and to separate the light from the darkness; and God saw that it was good. 19There was evening and there was morning, a fourth day. 20Then God said, “Let the waters teem with swarms of living creatures, and let birds fly above the earth in the open expanse of the heavens.” 21God created the great sea monsters and every living creature that moves, with which the waters swarmed after their kind, and every winged bird after its kind; and God saw that it was good. 22God blessed them, saying, “Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the waters in the seas, and let birds multiply on the earth.” 23There was evening and there was morning, a fifth day. 24Then God said, “Let the earth bring forth living creatures after their kind: cattle and creeping things and beasts of the earth after their kind”; and it was so. 25God made the beasts of the earth after their kind, and the cattle after their kind, and everything that creeps on the ground after its kind; and God saw that it was good.” - Genesis 1:1 from the New American Standard Bible. Everyone knew the story of Creation as God had bestowed that knowledge upon them through the prophets of old. Many also had knowledge of the other beings that existed, but those stories were incomplete and best left for the Darkness to swallow and swallow it did. There were pieces of the story that not even the angels knew, but one day there would be one special human that would know it all. The story of one of the most beloved and powerful angels and his slow descent to Hell without his consent was entrusted to one and only one person, the true vessel of the lost archangel. But we’ll get to that soon enough. Let’s start from the beginning, shall we? God created the four archangels once the Heavens were created and secure. After all, you wouldn’t leave your babies unprotected would you? Neither would God. The first to be created was Michael, who unintentionally had a bit of a sense of privilege in being the first created and therefore the closest to their Father out of all his siblings. God personally raised Michael while he created the next archangel. By the time Lucifer was created, Michael was equivalent to a six year old human with a peaked sense of curiosity and imagination. He pestered his Father constantly as he awaited the arrival of his baby brother peppering Him with questions about Creation and when Lucifer would be among them. “Dad, why did You make the grass green and the soil brown? Why is the sky blue but the clouds are white?” Michael asked, sitting criss cross on the ground next to his Father’s work table. “How much longer until my baby brother is created?” “Hush, my child,” God chuckled, hugging his first created. “Have patience and faith that your Father knows what He does and why. Your brother will be with us soon, I promise.” Michael blushed and smiled at his Father as he was set down. God kissed his forehead and sent him off to watch over Earth through the pure waters that resided in Heaven’s center. The young archangel was entranced by the flow of life. A flower bloomed and a bee pollinated it, taking the excess spores to its hive where it was later made into honey. On its next trip to pollinate more flowers, the bee was eaten by a bird. Later, that bird would be killed and eaten by a wild cat. One day, the wild cat would die and give its body over to the soil and any scavengers that may come across it. Michael had moved his attention over the oceans, where a similar flow of life and energy was occurring. As he watched a pod of dolphins gracefully leap out of the deep blue waters, there was a shrill and unhappy cry sounding through Heaven. Michael grinned and dashed over to his Father’s work bench. There the larger than life celestial sat cradling a tiny cherubic angel with glowing fluffy white wings in his arms. “Michael, my son, meet Lucifer, your younger brother.” God announced in hushed tones as the baby angel started to calm down. “He’s quite the sensitive little graceling. You’ll have to help watch over him. Do you think you can help me, Michael?” “Yes, Father!” Michael beamed, concentrating and using his wings to hover high enough to get a better look at his brother. “He’s beautiful, Dad…” Lucifer looked up at his brother and squealed with joy. He didn’t know they could fly! He reached out and grabbed a hold of his brother’s hand, sucking on his fingers as they watched one another in awe. Michael was quite enamored with Lucifer and happily babied the younger on almost every occasion. He taught Lucifer to crawl, to walk, stretch his wings, and talk. They snuggled together when night fell and Michael would retell the story of Creation to his little brother and how their Father had said that one day he would make mortals in their images. Once Lucifer was old enough to be more independent, his curiosity often got him into trouble. The most memorable instance occurred when Lucifer tried to fly down to Earth. He was even more enamored with the world than his brother and wanted nothing more than to visit it himself and spend time with all the beautiful creatures. Much to his confusion, he was scolded by both God and Michael. He was told that Earth was no place for angels but never got an answer as to why. The more he pressed, the angrier they were with him until Lucifer was in tears and curling into himself with his wings wrapped around him. Father and Michael both apologized and did their best to make it up to him. This coddling continued until Michael discovered they were to have another sibling. By the time Lucifer was around six years old in mortal age, the same age Michael had been when he was created, Raphael was created. The newest angel was much more like Michael than Lucifer and the oldest and youngest were soon as thick as angel grace. Raphael was practically his oldest brother’s mini-me and with all the attention being diverted to the youngest, Lucifer was left on the fray. He watched over the years as Michael and Raphael bonded and forgot all about the middle archangel. So the little outcast spent many a night alone in his own little corner of paradise, weeping softly into the clouds, which sent gentle showers down to earth. He wondered what he had done wrong and why his big brother didn’t care for him anymore. He eventually got his answer when God requested his presence by the work bench. He took His middle angelic child onto His lap and held him close. “You’ve been quiet, Little One.” God pointed out, gently stroking his son’s wings. “That is very unlike you. Is something the matter?” “Daddy, why doesn’t Mikey like me anymore?” Lucifer asked, his eyebrows scrunched with worry and confusion as a deep, pained frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, sweet Lu,” God sighed sadly, a sympathetic smile on his face. “He does like you. In fact, he loves you. He and Raphael both do.” “But they never spend time with me… It’s always just Mikey and Raphie.” Lucifer pressed, no less confused and hurt than before. “Do I spend every moment with any of you?” God questioned, relaxing in the rocking chair as he pushed against the floor and watched his son thoughtfully. “Well… No…” Lucifer hesitantly answered, a small bout of fear welling up inside him at that thought that maybe his Father didn’t like him anymore either. “Stop right there, Little Angel.” God responded, tipping Lucifer’s chin up to look him in the eye. “That’s not what I meant. Just because I don’t spend every moment with any of you or all of you, does not mean that I do not love you. I love all my children and all my creations equally, but I have much to do so bonding time isn’t as long or often as any of us may like it to be. Besides, Michael likes to be a helper and he is very good at caring for you and your brother. Since you’ve grown, he’s looked after Raphael, who needs more guidance than you do.” “I guess that makes sense,” Lucifer commented, still pondering the point. “But what am I supposed to do? Mikey teaches, Raphie learns and I just… exist…” “I thought you might ask that,” God laughed, hugging his son and smiling brightly as Lucifer giggled. “First, you need to help me finish my latest creation and then you will have your task.” “Okay, Daddy,” Lucifer giggled, excited that he got to help with a creation since even Mikey didn’t get to do that. “What can I do?” “Lucifer, meet Gabriel.” God segwayed, lifting his son to better see the lifeless baby archangel with shimmering golden wings and caramel hair laid upon a small bed of clouds on the work table. “He’s the last of your kind to be created and your youngest brother.” “Hi, Gabe!” Lucifer quietly greeted, awestruck by the tiny being. After not seeing any movement or sign of life, the middle archangel began to worry. “He’s not dead, is he, Daddy?” “No, he’s not dead. He hasn’t been given life yet either. I thought he could use a special touch.” God answered, tucking a small sun shaped amber shard into the baby’s chest. “I need you to hold out your arm for me, Lu.” Lucifer did as told, squeaking in surprise as God removed a small amount of grace from his being. He watched as his Father cupped the substance in his hands and then looked up at the celestial’s face. “Whisper sweet words to it and blow it a kiss,” God instructed with a patient smile. “Hi, silver water… Thank you for all that you do for me and my brothers. Please help Father bless my baby brother with life,” Lucifer whispered, staring into the shining substance. “So that he may see this wondrous universe that awaits him. I want to show him the way the stars kiss the skies, all the little things that wander the life planet, and tell him stories of Creation and what lies ahead… like Mikey used to do with me…” Lucifer blew a kiss towards the life giving essence and watched as Father poured it into the youngest. After a few moments of nervous but patient waiting, Gabriel began twitch, cooing and yawning as he lazily opened his bright and beautiful amber eyes. The middle archangel climbed up on the work table and gathered his brother in a hug, wings wrapping around the littlest archangel. “I love you, Gabe.” Lucifer whispered as the baby angel giggled and snuggled in closer. “He is yours to look after, my sweet little Lu.” God informed his older son. “Do you think you can handle him?” “Yes! I will never let anyone harm him.” Lucifer answered, a very somber and defensive tone to his voice as he gave God a very serious look. From then on, Lucifer was never alone again. Gabriel happily stuck to his side, even at night, which was when stories were told and cuddles were exchanged. Gabriel was every bit as mischievous and curious as his mentor, resulting in many pranks and gentle scoldings by God and Michael. By the time Gabriel was the equivalent of a mortal toddler, God had made many lower level angels for various purposes and continued to do so. Lucifer and Gabriel were inseparable, especially upon the day that the Darkness grew too big for her britches and wanted more than what she had. With the help of his archangels, God bound the darkness and He resumed his first attempts at mortal beings after entrusting what would eventually be known as the Mark of Cain to Lucifer. In the coming days, Gabriel would have crying spells, alarmed by the changes in his brother as the Darkness whispered of violent delights and Lucifer’s pranks would be harsher than normal. Instead of simply popping out and scaring their brothers, he would create visions of monsters to creep in their rooms at night and rather than simply dumping water over their heads, he poured honey over their wings, causing them to stick together rather painfully while the Darkness laughed and said it was all in good fun- just a harmless prank. Fortunately for the baby of their little family, Gabriel was never a victim but he stopped being an accomplice when he grew old enough to be more independent. Gabriel would gauge his brother to see whether it was a good or bad day before risking being around him. Night time was always the best time for Lucifer because the Darkness was often preoccupied so the two could snuggle and talk of stars and stories just as they did before Lucifer was burdened with the Mark. “Luci?” Gabe quietly called peering around the door into his brother's room. “Hey, baby brother,” Lucifer smiled, getting up from his nest and scooping the little archangel up in his arms. “What are you doing wandering around at night?” “Couldn't find you…” Gabe murmured nestling closer to his brother. “Story time?” “Of course, Gabey.” Lucifer agreed, nestling the little one against his chest as he laid down. “What story shall we have tonight?” “Life planet!” Gabe smiled, looking up at his big brother. “Which one?” Lucifer asked, twitching the fingers on his right arm which caused vines to grow from the ceiling to grab their nest and rock it from side to side like Gabe had always enjoyed. “When Luci will go down…” Gabe murmured, rubbing his eyes. “Alright but just this one because someone’s a sleepy little sheep,” Lucifer softly chuckled, gently grooming the youngest’s golden wings. “You are the only angel that wants to sleep.” Gabriel pouted and stuck his tongue out at his brother before nuzzling his face against the older angel’s neck. He couldn't help that he was created with a touch of the sun and the lesser light of the moon didn't suffice. “One day, very soon, Daddy will create mortals in our image. They will be beautiful and bright like us. They will walk the earth and mingle with all the other life from bees and butterflies to elephants, big cats, and wild dogs,” Lucifer murmured, looking out over the vast expanse of Heaven. “I will descend, tucking my wings away, and walk among them. They shall know me and I will guide them. I will help them find their place in their vast yet tiny world and teach them the ways of God. They will accept me as I have been blessed to be before. I will be able to walk among them as one of them…” There was a pensive silence that caused concern in the younger angel. His mentor had never been quite like this in the night before. There was an odd and far away look on his face. Gabe frowned and gently pat his brother's chin as he used to when he was just created. Lucifer shook his head and smiled softly, but it was fake. Something was not right and it was getting more obvious every day. “I could even rule over them if I do pleased,” Lucifer continued, a much more somber tone to his words. “They would revere and bow to me. It would only be natural as they are mere mortals instead of us bowing to them and catering to their whims.” Gabe pushed himself up and crawled out of the nest, tears burning his eyes and he fluttered his little wings to help him land softly on the cushy ground below. He ran to find God, who was at the Fountain of Hope, watching to see what his first attempt at mortals would do. Gabe was in tears as he tugged on his Father’s tunic. “What's wrong, my little trickster?” God inquired, his brow furrowing in worry as he cradled his youngest archangel in his arms. “Luci say naughty things, Papa,” Gabe cried, clinging to God. “He never talks like that cause he says it's bad, but now says it and- and he believes it… Want my Luci back, Papa…” God frowned deeply at Gabriel’s words. He cupped a hand to his son's cheek and looked into the memory that was troubling the cherubic angel. When he heard what his second created had said, he gasped in surprise. “I will have a talk with your brother and help him through this,” God promised, glancing back at the Fountain. “Oh no… No, that's not right…” “P-papa?” Gabe hesitated, too afraid to look for himself. “We must gather your brothers,” God responded, getting to his feet. “Michael, Lucifer, Raphael, come to me my children!” Before long, all were gathered before God and the others could sense the turmoil within Lucifer. They all exchanged concerned looks before turning their attention to their Father. “As you all know, I attempted to create mortals in our image,” God began, allowing Lucifer to take Gabriel into his arms at the youngest’s consent. “They were never meant to be perfect but I fear they fall at the darkest depths of the imperfect. They are too dangerous to be left on such a fragile world so I must go and lock them away for the safety of themselves and all that is good. I will call upon you to help me seal them away once I have them gathered.” “Yes, Father,” The archangels consented in unison. With that, God rained down upon the earth and gathered his ‘misguided’ children. It was a struggle at times since many were unwilling to go without a fight. Eventually, the archangels heeded the call of God and locked the scoundrels away in a place to be known as purgatory that only the four brothers could unlock. In the Darkness, something crept after the youngest, who was equivalent to an eight year old mortal at the time. Gabriel panicked as it attempted to wrap around his legs and climb- the only visible parts being the black tendrils that burned as they made contact. Lucifer heard his brother's cry decimated the fiend- or so he thought- and took his baby brother into his arms. “I will never let anything or anyone hurt you,” Lucifer promised, holding the smaller archangel close to his chest. But he never considered that he might be the one to hurt the littlest archangel. A few more years passed and God announced the creation of the true mortal that would be known as human. There were only two in the beginning, a man and a woman, known as Adam and Eve. They were almost finished and God was eager to introduce them to the world and see how they fared. When their Father wasn't looking, Lucifer snuck down to earth under the cloak of night. He sat amongst the branches of the tree of knowledge and awaited the arrival of the humans. While he waited, he daydreamed about what the mortals would look like. Would Adam look Michael? Or perhaps like Raphael? Maybe like himself or Gabriel? Or maybe the best features of all them…? What would Eve look like? He couldn't recall seeing much of his sisters in Heaven since the archangels were kept separate for the time being. After the problems with the Leviathan, God was more weary about mingling the different angels- partly out of fear that the less powerful would be hurt that were angels with greater power and higher rank. “H-hello?” A voice hesitantly called out, sounding rather scared and frail. Perhaps this was Adam or Eve? “Hello, are you Adam?” Lucifer inquired not moving from his branch just yet. There was a pause. “Yes, I am and I am in dire need of help,” the being answered. “Can you help me?” “Of course, I can. I am a child of God and it is what we do,” Lucifer responded, his excitement clouding his judgment. “How may I aid you?” “I am an incomplete being- my other half is missing- and I need more shelter than what I can find. This world is beautiful and terrifying,” He explained. “Can you help me find shelter?” “My brother, you may take shelter in me until Father sends Eve to complete you.” Lucifer nobly offers, descending from the tree and stretching his arms and wings out to the supposed mortal. As they embraced, the melded together as one. Lucifer stilled, his eyes going wide and his body tensing then trembling. He fell to the ground, losing the control he once had over his form as his wings scorched the earth and threatened to set it ablaze as the blackest ink filled his throat and choked him. “Thanks, Brother,” the cretin chuckled darkly inside Lucifer’s head. “You naive winged fool.” “Wh-what are you?” Lucifer sputtered. “The very thing that you attempted to kill all those years ago when I went after your brother when you and yours locked mine away,” the creature hissed. “Enjoy the descent into madness, you self-righteous imbecile.” The next day, Lucifer was able to return home just as the real Adam and Eve were placed on the earth. He flew back to Heaven and sought out his siblings and Father. When they all were gathered, they - except Gabriel who was himself ignored- disregarded his pleas for help and instead scolded him for disobeying the order to remain in Heaven and to leave the earth be, to not interfere. When he tried to speak of the incident, the foul Leviathan inside him threatened his family. “Father, he is a danger to himself and all that is good!” Michael warned. “His pranks have gone from humorous to threatening! If he is allowed to continue to disobey and stay in your good graces all the while, he will set Heaven ablaze and leave all in ruin!” “I understand, Michael, but he is your brother and my son.” God reminded his eldest. “He also bears the burden of the Mark. With that in mind, he may not be himself and I will not condemn him for something that I have cursed him with.” Gabriel sat back and stayed silent. He didn't like this anymore. He didn't know who to believe or what the fate of his mentor and brother really was. He listened as they came to an agreement that Lucifer be monitored for the time being and should his behavior and mentality continue to decline, he would be sent on a one way trip to Hell, banished from Heaven and locked away in a cage of his own making. And it was so. For, years later as the humans flourished and grew as God intended- as the Leviathans should have, Lucifer’s behavior became erratic and ill-tempered. His actions and all the conflict they resulted in caused Gabriel to run away from Heaven and take refuge on earth, where he would hide for ages, posing as a Pagan deity. After a nearly fatal brawl with his brother after refusing to bow to the humans upon God’s wish, he was cast out of Paradise and forced to smelt blades of archangels together to form his own cage as his wings fell to the same ruin as his Leviathan infected mind and grace. He was then locked away with hundreds upon hundreds of seals enclosing him. In his mind, he cowered and cried for help. He desperately wished to tell Gabriel it was not him speaking and acting, that he was poisoned and he was no longer himself. All the while, the Leviathan laughed at him and told him to get comfortable for millenniums would pass before he's ever see even the surface and when he did, it would be ablaze with the unholy flames of the apocalypse. Everything he ever loved would be decimated.

[evyandfan]

It doesn’t matter

Summary: When Lucifer kills Gabriel, Gabriel bends time and makes out of the seconds he has, minutes. A last try to talk to Lucifer.

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The moment Lucifer turned around and grabbed the angel blade, just to thrust it deep into his little brothers grace... that moment when he didn't think, but just kind of 'did' without the smallest hesitation... Lucifer knew he made a mistake. Everything, that was left of his once magnificent grace, cringed with excruciating pain. He saw the light pouring out of Gabriels eyes, his face warped into an expression of surprise and horror.

It was the first time since the beginning of time, that an archangel gave his life and of course it couldn't be a normal death. Every angel in existence and millions of other beings more felt it, when Gabriels grace imploded, but for some it might've been only a little nudge of discomfort in the remotest corners of their mind, but for Lucifer it almost felt like he himself died there. When an archangel dies, they can't hold their being inside that tiny human vessel and they widen over miles. Humans wouldn't even notice, but Lucifer could see his brother dying on every plane of reality and he felt, what it felt like for Gabriel to die.

Time is a strange thing. Hours could pass in just a couple of seconds. Seconds could be minutes. And so Gabriel reached out with the essence of his burning grace and surrounded his brother with everything, that was him.... and Lucifers eyes grew distant and everything disappeared.

________________________________________________________________

"It hurts.", A voice cried out in pain, the usual sound of bells and harps disturbed, as the first beginnings of wings sprouted from the angels back. "I know. You're almost through it, just a little longer, little brother...",

Lucifer remembered that time. Confusion drawn on his face he watched the familiar scene before his eyes. It was a long time ago. Millennia before god decided to create earth and humanity. When there were just four angels in existence and the youngest, so afraid of getting his first pair of wings. A deep longing grew in him, as he saw the swirls of his brothers grace. Michael, soft and rigid at the same time... Raphael a sea of calmness surrounding them all... and Gabriel, a golden light, that brightened existence for them so much more.

"I was so scared my wings would be different and you wouldn't love me anymore.", Gabriel's voice was tinged with melancholy, as he remembered that one day. Lucifer looked up. His brother stood right next to him, maybe a few steps distant, but still in his vessel and the only indication of his angelic being were his the golden eyes.

"You wouldn't believe us, that it didn't matter, what your wings would be like.",he murmured and it felt like somebody else remembered. Someone, who craved these old times, where everything was still okay and seemed like it always would be. "You wouldn't believe that we'd always love you.", Almost, like he was in trance, the words so quiet and small, far, far away. And yet it was his mouth and his voice murmuring them.

Gabriel chuckled without any joy and pulled Lucifer out of his thoughts. „What is this here?“, he asked. „A memory. A little time bending...“, Gabriel shrugged. „Why are you even trying? You‘re burning up. You can‘t uphold this..“, Lucifer pointed on their younger versions. „I want you to realize that it‘s pointless.“, „What?“, „This... fighting..“, For a moment Lucifer caught a glimpse of burning pain. "If Michael hadn't thrown me in the cage,..-",

A twisted grimace showed on Gabriels face. "If Michael hadn't! If Dad hadn't! Is this just a game of finger-pointing?! Does it matter anymore? I don‘t think so... because you know what?", Gabriel took a step forward. "It won't change anything. It can't undo what happened. It won't ever be like this again.", Gabriel turned his head in the direction of his much younger self.

One pair of ruffled, small wings were now little Gabriel's, And his brothers were watching over him, spreading their wings, building a warm cave of feathers, a nest, while he rested, exhausted from the whole process of his grace expanding.

"This whole fighting-with-Michael-thing? What if you win? What do you think will happen? I'm already pretty much dead. Micheal will be dead. And Raphi? The rest of our brothers? Dad? Do you truly don't care about all of that?", Lucifer didn't move. Regardless his face was a mask of anger. "You of all, are one to speak of caring. You left us. You didn't care then...", His voice was filled with cold disdain, "And now? Now, all you care about, are these pathetic humans and these pagans, calling themselves gods!",

"I didn't leave, because I didn't care! I left, because I couldn't stand to watch how everyone I loved broke into pieces. It wasn't my home anymore. It's wasn't heaven itself, that made it my home. It's not the four white towers or the garden. It was you. You four and dad. But you and Michael were fighting constantly, and I tried to make it better. I tried, but I accepted, what Raphael couldn't. That, when you got ready for war... there was no fixing things anymore... And I was not about to kill my brothers.",

"Just now you seemed more than ready for that.", Tiredness spread over Gabriel's face. "I'm not stupid, Luci, I know, I'm no match for you. Do you really think, that after all this time I still use the very same tricks in every fight?!",

Realization dawned on Lucifer. "You knew, I would kill you.", he frowned.

"Feeling fit today, don't we?", Gabriel rolled his eyes, his form beginning to flicker. The last remains of his grace burned out... "It doesn't matter. Even if I refuse to fight, Michael won't go against fathers orders. There is no choice, brother.",

But Gabriel wasn't there anymore to hear his words.. ________________________________________________________________

Lucifer was back in an deserted hotel, his youngest brothers wings burned into the ground at his feet.

And all that was left, was staring at burned feathers, thinking of the day they grew.

„What do you think of my wings? How do they look?!“, A voice, sounding like bells and harps „They‘re golden, like your eyes and I think they‘re beautiful.“, Michael with a warm smile. „I love you.“, the youngest angel said, and Raphael spread her wings over the four of them. Gabriel in their middle. „We love you too, Gabriel.“, Warm. Family. Home..

It‘s hard to believe, but...They had been happy once upon a time.