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Okay. Our departure has been pushed back two days. It's okay. It's only because Mam was planning to spend a night in Nan's on the way, and that got changed suddenly. The holiday itself is still unchanged, and we're leaving on ... Saturday? Today's Thursday, right? Anyway! Means I might get the rest of these done. So:
Running Games
Castiel had expected many things, returning to Heaven. Expected chaos, confusion, fear. Anger. Even violence. What he had not expected, not really ... was the grief. The hollow, white rage, the mindless desolation. The grief. For Michael, for Zachariah. Even for Lucifer. He had not expected that. [I really, really don't think Heaven is going to be an easy fix, after the Apocalypse. Missing God, missing all the archangels except Raph, who's not exactly stable to my mind, missing Zach who, while he may have been a greedy, grasping bastard, at least kept things running ... All Heaven has left are lots of angels milling around not knowing what happened, and a few who do know what happened and have reason to be extraordinarily bitter/pissed off/psychotic about it. And Cas wants to fix that, on his own? Hon, you've really been hanging out with the Winchesters too long ...]
He should have. Even more than a year ago, he should have seen that. Uriel. He should have remembered Uriel. The pain of his old friend, the exhaustion, the grief and hope and cold anger. The pity in the other angel's eyes as he raised his hand to kill Castiel. Not for his death, that pity. For his innocence. Uriel had regretted that Castiel would die without understanding, without realising that God was dead or had abandoned them, without realising the Apocalypse was their only hope, without realising that it was to Lucifer or Michael he should look, not God. Not humanity. That's what Uriel had thought, when he raised his hand with pity in his eyes. [For some reason, I've been missing Uriel lately. I've sort of been tempted on and off to write a fic with him, maybe even him and Cas and Gabe, set post-5x22 ... *breaks off musing* Anyway! I really, really loved that episode, 4x16, and the quiet, sad, misguided passion of him. I sort of wish they'd had time to show the repercussions of Uriel's plan, in Heaven. Show how many angels maybe thought he was making a lot of sense, in a mad sort of way ...]
That's what Heaven thought now. But there was no pity in the eyes of the angels who looked at him on this White Plain. No understanding, no pained grief. Only wild, anguished rage. Only endless grief, and the loss of their last hope. Only the knowledge that, God or no God, right or wrong, Castiel had helped cage all that they had believed in, in the long years without their Father. Only the knowledge that he had helped steal their last hope for reprieve. [Because, from their point of view, that's what he did. He betrayed them, deserted his post, challenged every archangel he came across, killed their brothers in combat, and when push came to shove, he helped put their General in Hell. Michael, the one person they'd believed in, in the absence of the Father. And Cas helped betray him. Me thinks Heaven is going to be just a little bit annoyed about that ...]
Heaven did not forgive something like that. Heaven did not remember how.
He had told Dean he wanted to help them. Clean up the town. Be the sheriff. He'd told Dean that, and he'd meant it. But Heaven didn't want his help. Heaven didn't want his justice. Heaven wanted his blood. His blood, his Grace, his screaming cries. His death. Arm in arm, angels came to kill him. Pushed past thought of consequence. Pushed past caring. And anyway. Even if God really did raise him, if God really had brought him back not once, but twice, well ... third time's the charm, right? Even in Heaven. [And I think, in the part of him that made that decision in the first place, in the part of him that stood beside Chuck and watched the glory of an archangel fall on him ... Cas always knew it would come to that. He always knew]
They wanted him dead. And though that was nothing new, though he had faced that and more over the past year, though he had known, in some little secret place, that maybe this would be the way it ended ... Castiel found he did not want to let them. He didn't want to fight them, he didn't want to die, he had no time to explain. [But now, though, he knows he can fight. Maybe not win, maybe never that, but he can fight. And Cas is a soldier. He's going down swinging]
So he ran. Ran from Heaven, ran to the only place he had ever been even briefly safe. He ran to Earth, to home, to the world he had died twice to protect.
And those angels that could, those angels that had vessels, came after him.
It was Raphael who caught him, in the end. Raphael, wild and crazed, lightning burning behind his eyes as the once-healer surrendered the last shreds of sanity, of compassion. Raphael, who had loved Michael, served beside Zachariah, who had believed with every fiber of his being that their Father had left, that their Father had to have died, rather than let them be hurt so. Rather than let the world go to ruin. Raphael, who thought he had acted in good faith as long as he could, and been ignored for it, while Castiel ... Castiel had known their Father's mercy. Raphael, who had promised him a death, months ago. Raphael, who found time now to fulfill that promise. [*tilts head* Raphael ... okay. Might take some explaining. This is me putting together two threads of thought. The first is that Raphael was the Healer archangel, patron of Healers, and yet when we first meet him in SPN, he's a vast terrible assassin cloud of death, pointed at one of his own brothers. And he knows it, as 5x03 proved. How did he get from one to the other? And then, there's the fact that by this story, Raph has lost his entire family, all the closest members of it. He lost Lucy first, aeons ago. Then his Father. Then Gabriel, as Gabriel fled Heaven. Then, finally, Michael. All dead, missing, or in Hell. And that last is all Cas' fault. So ... I don't think Raphael is all that sane by this point, and I really don't think he's all that fond of Castiel]
As he fell, as he flew, as he tumbled away from that burning, anguished Grace towards Earth, Castiel understood then the pity that had lived in Uriel's eyes. He understood what it was to look at an enemy who had once been a comrade, and feel nothing but pity for their blindness.
He understood what it was like to have to raise your hand anyway. [I like that echo. That by the end of the season, Cas does understand where Uriel was coming from. He picked a different side, in the end, and used different methods to accomplish his goals, but he knows what it is to look at the vast majority of angels in Heaven's service and ... see only how blind they are, how blind they've always been. And Uriel ... Uriel did pity Cas, for not being able to see. And Cas ... Cas feels pity now. But he can't die. He can't just let them kill him]
He led Raphael through the skies, through the fall. Lead him far from humanity, far from anyone that might be hurt by the archangel's maddened grief. To the icy wastes of the north, the howling vastness that still existed in the gaps of humanity's grasping spread, their endless, desperate needs. To the quiet places that yet remained, where an angel could die alone, in peace, and leave no scar upon his charges. Castiel led Raphael north, for one of them to die. There was no other way, now. He understood that.
In a way, he always had. Castiel was, and ever would be, a soldier. The enemy may have changed, the General, the cause ... but the fight had not. The instinct had not.
The pity had not. [Sorry. I adore that Cas so much. Cas the soldier, sword in hand, doing what needs doing come Hell or high water. Literally, in this case. I love sad, rumpled, badass Castiel, Angel of the Lord. In a strange way, he never changed. Not the core of him. He changed sides, priorities, even beliefs to an extent, but never himself. He was always Cas]
Ice boiled as they landed, cracked with a deep and terrible sound as they impacted, and Castiel staggered, blinded by steam and lightning, his blade in his hand. He dove away on pure instinct, feeling Grace sear the air behind him, fighting blind. But he had learned how to do that, in his time on Earth. He had learned how to fight far more than blind. Without Grace, without strength, without sense, without hope. He had learned that, over and over at Dean's side, at Sam's side. He had learned that. He would not fall now. Not now. He ran, he dodged, he called Grace to shield and deflect and anything, anything that would keep him alive. Castiel did not want to die. Not again.
He'd had just about enough of that, after all. Twice was enough for anyone. [*hums happily* Look, I wanted to fangirl badass Cas for a while, okay? The Cas who kept losing power, steadily, and support, and still kept going. That Cas]
Raphael swung again, furiously, clumsily, maddened past care for skill. The archangel was nothing but raw power and rage, a silent scream of grief and passion against Castiel's senses, a deadly force of hate. He struck out, over and over, while ice screamed and the sea fountained, and angels left in Heaven watched with pitiless eyes.
And then, as ice collapsed, as Castiel staggered and went down on a floe, as Raphael screamed in triumph and agony over him, then, then ... [*shakes head at self* And here I am accusing others of having a dramatic streak ...]
A great head broke the surface of the waves. No. Not great. Massive. Gargantuan, terrible, monstrous. A vast head reared up out of the sea behind the archangel, behind the gleaming arc of Raphael's sword, and turned dark, depthless eyes on their battle. On the archangel. [Then again, it's hard for the Midgard Serpent, the Leviathan, Loki's son, to be anything but dramatic. It's not easy being huge, sometimes]
Castiel cried a warning. Not out of caring but out of sheer, stunned instinct. Castiel called out to what in a past life would have been his brother, his comrade, and screamed to him that an enemy had come. Screamed to him to watch his back, Raphael, please. He called out a warning, crumpled at the archangel's feet, helpless beneath the blade. Raphael didn't listen. Raphael didn't even hear. [Cas can't help it. Thousands of years of habit as a member of the garrison. But Raph's a bit preoccupied at the moment]
The monster reached down his mighty head, tore the sword from Raphael's hands between vast jaws, pulled the archangel screaming into the air, and plunged down once more beneath the surface, carrying Raphael with him out of sight. [And now he's even more preoccupied. *facepalm* Somebody shut me up, please?]
For a second, Castiel did nothing. Shock, sheer disbelief, amazement and pain. Too many things to be believed. For a second, he did nothing.
Then he found his blade, scrabbled to his feet, and raced to dive after the creature and its hapless prey. [Again, he can't help it. Beating Raph himself is one thing. Abandoning another angel to an unknown foe is another. His loyalty has taken a lot of hits lately, but not that many]
Hands caught him. Appearing out of nowhere, wrapping around his waist, pulling him off his feet and back from the edge. Small hands, maybe, but pulsing with power. With such power. Castiel lashed out in shock, wrenched himself free on the edge of the iceberg and spun, sliding on the ice, his blade raised in front of him. He spun. [For some reason, this is one of my favourite images. Loki catching Cas from behind and pulling him to safety. I don't know why.]
And almost fell backwards into the ocean in sheer shock.
"Gabriel??"
The last face his brother had worn in life crinkled, folding itself into an exasperated smile. A far harder smile than any Gabriel had ever worn, holding more potential cruelty than the Messenger had ever owned, ever felt. The creature behind that face smiled, and Castiel knew instantly it was not him. It wasn't Gabriel. [You can tell the difference. There's a hardness to Loki that Gabriel doesn't have. Or that Gabriel makes a better effort to hide, anyway. Of the two, Loki is the more cruel off his own bat. Gabriel ... Gabriel is cruel on or through other people's orders, a servant, and isn't near so vicious on his own. Whether because he's more moral than those orders sometimes, or simply more afraid of consequences when he can't point to someone else and say 'they told me to do it', I'm not quite sure. But paired with Loki, it's the god who strikes first and hardest, and the archangel who follows through]
"Right form, wrong occupant," the creature smirked, and sketched a little bow for Castiel, waving a graceful hand and smiling through gleaming eyes as Castiel backed to the crumbling edge of the ice, between the ocean with its monster and the creature wearing his brother's face. "I'm afraid Gabriel doesn't live here anymore. Had to make alternate arrangements ..." [*grins* I love that dangerous, playful edge of this god. I always did]
"Loki," Castiel whispered quietly. "You're Loki."
The creature -god- grinned, bouncing back on his heels, completely at ease on the ice. For a second, he looked exactly like the archangel that had worn his face, exactly like the man who had possessed him for so many years. For a second, he looked exactly like Gabriel.
Something clenched, hot and hard, in Castiel's stomach.[This is the first time I've really done a fic dealing with an outsider's view of possession, the pain it can cause. I find it slightly odd that it's reversed possession. That the face Cas wants to see is the possessor, and it's the original owner who seems wrong and hurtful in those features. *shakes head at self* I can't ever do anything simple, can I?]
"You're quick, you are," the god grinned, that lurking cruelty fading behind the bright glitter of real humour, studying Castiel up and down. "I thought so, watching you that time. Easy to manipulate, but hard to fool. Pretty rare, the likes of you, you know that? A Trickster's dream, too. Challenging in all the right ways." [Again, I just think Cas must be so fascinating to tricksters/temptors. Straightforward, yet sneaky. Innocent, yet vastly experienced. Submissive in a lot of ways, but capable, so very capable, of thinking for himself, and if he ever decides you're wrong, whether he serves you or not, you are in so much trouble ... Cas is an awesome collection of contradictions, and you do just want to poke at him to see how he'll react ...]
Castiel shook his head, feeling ice cracking warningly beneath his feet, spreading his wings to catch himself. He didn't look back at the ocean. Didn't look down for the monster in its depths. The Leviathan. He knew what it was, now. Who it was. It was the creature before him he had to fear first. But ... [If you had to pick who to be afraid of, Loki or Jor, which one would you go for? Not the serpent, me thinks]
"Raphael," he said, cautiously. "Is he ...?"
Loki tilted his head, eyes crinkling in that wry sarcastic assessment that was so familiar, and Castiel took a moment to curse the god for wearing his brother's face, wearing Gabriel's face. Though technically it had been Loki's face first, and Castiel supposed it was only fair for him to regain it after the archangel had ... had left ... it still made it hard. So very hard. To raise his blade against the one angel in Heaven or Earth who had actually helped him. [Everyone else has turned on him. All his brothers. Everyone else. And Gabriel was the only one who turned back. Not in time for Cas himself to see it, but he would have heard of events of 'Hammer of the Gods'. Gabriel was the only one. And now Loki's stolen his face, and Cas has to fight even him. Kid never gets a break]
"Worried about your enemy," Loki mused. "About the angel who had you on your back with a sword at your throat not five minutes ago." A pause, and then a bright, fierce smile. "Oh yes. You are his brother, aren't you? Bloody archangel wouldn't even try to kill his brother. To fight back. Not in earnest, anyway. And here you are, diving into the ocean after the one who almost killed you. Yup. Definitely Gabriel's. Definitely." [He could have stabbed Lucy in the back anytime in the first five minutes of the Devil's conversation with the illusion-Gabriel. He didn't. He tried to persuade him instead. Tried to make his brother see sense. Lucifer only knew the image was a fake because it's what he would have done, and he needed to a second to figure that out. If Gabriel had just simply killed him straight away, treated him as an enemy from the off ... but he couldn't. Because Lucifer was his brother, and he couldn't. *sighs unhappily*]
Castiel flinched, shrugged, looking away uneasily. "Gabriel was ... I do not know what I was to him, or he to me. I simply want to know ... what will happen to Raphael."
The god watched him for another second, weighing him with eyes full of a laughing darkness, and then he moved. Meandered gently around Castiel, forcing him to circle back around, away from the edge, smirking as he kept his sword instinctively between them, and crouched down on the lip of the ice. Staring down into the iron seas, smile gone soft and pensive. [There are times when Loki can be oddly gently, if still rather smug]
"He'll be fine," Loki said at last, with a small twist of his lips. "Or he'll live, at least. Jor's just going to soften him up a little, toss him back up once he's too beaten to be a danger for a while. Shouldn't take long. Angels don't do at all well underwater, you know. But he'll be fine." He turned his head, eyed Castiel with a smile. "Don't worry. I'd never hear the end of it, if I let him die. But you ... if I'd let you die, Castiel ... oh, that would have been trouble. That would have been a whole heap of trouble. So Raphy here had to take his little bath. Hope you don't mind?" [He's not going to admit it, ever, but Loki is rather of the opinion that Gabriel's lost enough family for the time being. Besides. He likes what little he's seen of Cas]
Castiel frowned, confused. "Why?" he asked, warily. "Why would you want to protect me? I am not ... there is no-one ... there would be no consequence for letting me fall. Not for you ..." He stopped, but Loki was already smiling, that slow, cruel smirk, eager anticipation, and he was looking behind Castiel, looking beyond him ... [Cas, on the other hand, has no idea who Loki is beyond the basics, or why he'd do anything for the brother of someone who stole his body. Consequently, our suspicious little angel is rather wary ...]
"Oh, but there would be," a slow, familiar voice purred behind him, smiling as Castiel turned to stare into familiar, sardonic eyes, smiling as he looked into a mirror of the god behind him, the very same face, but this one ... This one was softer, lighter. More full of humour, more full of caring. This one was so, so familiar ... [*smiles stupidly* Sorry, sorry. Weregild was fun, but it was still in Hel's halls, the land of the dead. This is the first time ... Gabriel's back. Back on earth, back dealing with the boys, back smirking and snarking and having fun. And I wanted him to have the same face. Loki can shift in and out of his if he chooses (he doesn't, because he and Gabriel like messing with people and he's gotten comfortable besides, but the option is there), but Yahweh gave Gabriel back this body, or a copy of it. Because that's Gabriel, in my head]
"Gabriel?" Castiel whispered, not daring to believe. Not again. "Gabriel?" [One archangel, returned from the dead, and still on his side. He's not ... even after getting resurrected twice, Cas doesn't trust that things like that can happen to him]
"Hey, little bro," Gabriel said gently, before flashing Loki a smile. "Don't you worry about this old Trickster. He'll help you, or I'll have his head. Part of the deal, that, and he knows it. And if I don't ... well, there's Dad, too. Hel may be able to stare our Father down with no ill effects, but Loki might find himself having a little more trouble ..." [I think Gabe's still kinda dizzy over the fact that he can talk to Loki, now. That Loki can act on his own, and Gabriel can growl at him for it, and watch the sneer ... He misses being wrapped around his god, misses being part of him, but there's a kind of rush to this, too]
"It's His own fault," the god grinned, resting his hands on his hips as he matched Gabriel smirk for smirk, challenging and bright as Castiel stared between them, completely confused. "If the little bastard wouldn't keep challenging people who want to kill him, we wouldn't have this problem! You don't see me knocking on Odin's door, do you? No. If Castiel had died, it would have been his own stupid fault, and First-father can blame no-one but Himself!"[Well, not yet, anyway. Cas doesn't know this, so it isn't obvious from his POV. But Loki does do shit like knock on his archenemy's door and demand to be allowed a drink and a chat. Loki does keep challenging people who want to kill him. Gleefully. I think it's part of the sneaky regard he has for Cas. Gabriel, on the other hand, having some survival instinct when we're not dealing with his brothers, isn't half so cavalier about it. Until he's pushed, and tired, and bitter and laughing darkly at himself, and then we get things like 'Hammer of the Gods'. They both waltzed into that one, knowing what was waiting, and they did it as dramatically as possible, because they are damn well going out with a bang ...]
Gabriel tilted his head, pouting thoughtfully. "Huh. Could work. Maybe. It has merit, and after Hel dressed him down ... it could work, I guess." A slow grin. "Still leaves me to answer to, though. What were you planning to say to me, darling?" [But that's past, now, they've determined, so now we're going to tease and taunt, and play games, and pretend it didn't hurt ...]
Loki smirked. "Maybe I wasn't planning to tell you anything," he murmured dangerously, prowling towards the archangel, towards his twin in face and power and mischief. "Maybe I was planning to simply spend the next century or so ravishing you so senseless you couldn't remember your own name, let alone your suicidal little brother ..." [And flirt. Naturally. They've got a body apiece, now, and poor innocent little brothers to shock]
Gabriel grinned fiercely, fanning wings in challenge, bouncing on his toes as he circled the god. "You think you're that good, Loki darling? You think you could?" [Of course, flirting doesn't mean they can't fight each other, too. Competitive and combative, the pair of them]
And Loki grinned, and looked all set to answer, when suddenly the ice beneath them heaved, almost knocking the three of them off into the sea. Gabriel instantly darted forward to grab the god around the waist, tug him close and pull him rapidly into the air, clutching Loki protectively to his chest. The archangel cast around for a moment until he saw that Castiel had followed them up, flashing Castiel a small smile of relief. [*bites lip, spreads hands helplessly* He's spent centuries wrapped around his god. Instinct]
Castiel simply frowned, confused by too many things, still barely able to believe that Gabriel was alive, was here, and that the archangel also appeared to be here in the arms of a pagan god was simply too much to handle right now. Besides. He had other concerns. [Cas. Wonderful, pragmatic Cas. He doesn't get it, he's slightly worried about it, but there's nothing he can do for now, so he's just going to focus on what he can do, and sort out his big brother's love life later]
He watched the huge head rise once more from the waves beneath them, massive, weighty and serene. Watched Jormungandr, the Midgard Serpent, the Leviathan, rise from the deeps once again. Watched the creature reach down and lay a crumpled body on the ice.
Watched him return Raphael to them. [Because, wonderful and confusing and amusing as Gabriel's return is, Cas came here with a purpose, and Heaven is still waiting, still hurting, still crying out after him]
He barely waited until the World Serpent had pulled back his jaws before he was darting down, skidding on the landing as he reached for the archangel's body, as he reached to check. He heard Gabriel hit the ice behind him, far more gracefully, but paid little attention, searching for the vessel's pulse, the angel's Grace. Searching for proof that Raphael was yet alive. And as Gabriel knelt silently beside him, as one archangel reached down to cradle another's head ... he found it. Found Raphael. Battered but alive. [This is Gabriel's brother, too. And the archangel hasn't recovered himself from the Apocalypse, and all it meant for him, and his family ...]
Castiel had brought him here to die. He had brought Raphael to Earth, to this quiet place, so that one of them could fall, and the other finally be free. So that they could end this war between them and know at last the pity that Uriel had known, so very briefly. So that they could know a soldier's mercy. He had brought Raphael here to die. [A soldier's death. After all the losses and betrayals on all sides, it would have seemed ... at least cleaner. More ... respectful]
And now, he didn't have to. Not yet. Not if Castiel could have the chance to talk to him, to help him, to explain ... everything he had wanted as he flew through Heaven's gates once more. Not if Castiel could show him ... so much. The proof of their Father's caring. The worthiness of humanity. The true cost of the war, and it's true solution ... [But if Heaven would just listen to him, it wouldn't have been necessary. And there's nothing like a sudden cold bath courtesy of a giant sea serpent for getting people to sit down and shut up for a while ...]
He looked up, up at the towering mass of the Leviathan, of Loki's monstrous son. Looked up to meet the depthless, intelligent eyes of Jormungandr, the World Serpent. Looked up, reached out, one pale hand outstretched towards jaws that could swallow him whole, tear him apart, and Castiel whispered thank you. To a monster and the son of a monster. For sparing his enemy's life, for saving more than the Serpent could know. [The threat of death has never been much of an impediment for Cas, has it?]
Jormungandr almost flinched, his great form quivering in shock, and he lowered his massive head to nudge Castiel's hand. Slowly, waiting for Castiel to flinch back, to retreat in shock and revulsion, or in fear and anger. Jormungandr reached down and touched his nose to Castiel's hand, murmuring silently his welcome, and Castiel did not flinch. He had learned better. Instead he smiled, desperate with relief and sudden hope, and leaned in to rest his forehead against the great jaws. [From around about 4x16 on, Cas has been repeatedly taught that not all the 'good guys' are really good, and sometimes the monsters, the abominations, even occasionally the demons are on your side. And even unlike most of them, Jor hasn't yet accidentally set off the Apocalypse, or stuck a knife in him just to check, or spent a few centuries selling humans down the river ... as far as Cas is concerned, Jor can look like whatever he wants, he's still the most helpful being Cas has come across in a long time, so he won't treat him like a monster. Jor, though, has no idea why that is, or what to do with it, except be gentle and hope it doesn't stop]
"Thank you," he rasped again. "You don't know what you've saved ... Thank you."
"Alright," said another voice, very quietly, in surprise and soft ferocity. Castiel lifted his head, looked round to see Loki standing beside Gabriel, to see the god's hand digging into the archangel's shoulder so hard it had to hurt, his expression dark and haggard, laid open. Gabriel, kneeling beside him over his fallen brother, only smiled, soft and broken and proud. "Alright," Loki repeated. "We'll take care of him, Gabriel. Just this one. Just for that." [Neither does Loki. Gabriel sort of suspected, because he knows how different Cas is from your bog-standard smite-happy angel (now, anyway, but definitely compared to how he would have been when Gabriel left Heaven), but even Gabriel was still nervous. Very, very nervous. Angels do not look kindly on relations with monsters, and he wants there to be one brother, one brother, who actually accepts what he's done, who treats his new family as something other than target practice, as things beneath even contempt]
"I told you," the archangel said softly, cradling Raphael's head. "I told you he was the best of them. My little brother." He bit his lip, smiling rich and proud at Castiel. "Family worth fighting for. I told you." [And that brother is Cas. Because Cas has his own new family, the abominations he loves. Cas gets it]
"Yes," Loki whispered, and his dark gaze wrapped around more than Castiel, reaching out to embrace his son and something more beyond him, something Castiel could not see. "Yes." [Fenrir's waiting, and Hel, and maybe ... maybe there is a chance ... Gabriel still wants to be part of his old family, Loki knows that, and maybe there is a chance ...]
Castiel blinked, looking between them. "Gabriel?" he asked quietly. Demanded, maybe. "Gabriel ... what is this? What ... What are you?" [Cas, though, has no idea of any of that, has no notion of Loki's family beyond the Serpent currently pressed against him, has no notion of what his Father and Hel have been up, of how Gabriel came back, of any of it, and he'd really like an explanation sometime soon. Things he has no notion of have a bad habit of trying to kill him, in Cas' experience, so sooner rather than later, if you please ...]
The archangel smiled faintly, and shook his head. "Nothing, kid," he answered wryly. "Nothing at all. Just a big brother who maybe missed his chance once, and wants to make up for it. Just someone who wants ... to look out for you, that's all. Me and my ... my lover here. If ... If you'll have us?" His voice cracked around the end, his eyes dropping down to stare blindly at Raphael, and beside him Loki all but radiated power and danger and fierce, protective challenge, his hand still resting possessively on Gabriel's shoulder. [He wants his family. Gods, he wants his family so badly, and coming in on the tail-end of being murdered by his brother, and resurrected by his Father and his new family ... and here's Cas, suddenly, dealing with Jor and Loki like they're people (dangerous people, yes, but it's more than most do), and suddenly he's hoping. He doesn't want to, given what hope usually gets him, but he can't help it. And right now, given what they've just been through, Loki is perfectly capable of pasting Cas over a few countries if he lets Gabriel get hurt again]
Behind Castiel, Jormungandr moved, pushing forward gently to nudge Castiel towards them. Castiel looked back at him, and saw in ancient, serpentine eyes a love, a hope, a warm pity and a soft understanding. Leviathan, great and terrible beast of legend, and when he looked towards his father and his father's angel, what whispered in vast, dark eyes was a simple echo. Family worth fighting for.[*grins* I think Jor, like Hel, is quietly and gently determined to make things work for their Dad and his angel. If for no other reason than that both Loki and Gabriel seem incapable of trying to make things work for themselves. *shakes head* They need such looking after. What's a kid to do?]
And Castiel ... had to agree. [Which Cas, after so long shepherding Winchesters around the place, watching them self-destruct for each other and need help picking themselves and each other up ... Cas understands completely. Plus. Heaven's just turned on him all over again. He wants his brother back too. Badly, in his own understated kind of way ...]
"Always, brother," he said, turning on his knees to look at Gabriel once more. To smile his own tired, hopeful smile. "I missed you, Gabriel," he admitted softly. "When Sam told me ... I missed you. I wished ... many things. I did not think I would ever get a chance to ask them again. To ask you ..." [I know they were rushed, towards the end of S5, but I was still annoyed that we never got to see the boys telling Cas what had happened to Gabriel. We never got to see how that affected him, that one brother did take his side, and promptly died for it ...]
Gabriel bit his lip, the corner of his mouth curling up, eyes bright and shining for a second before he mastered himself, before he pushed back that terrible vulnerability and managed a challenging grin. "Hey now," he managed. "Never said I was going to answer questions or anything, bro! An archangel's gotta keep up his air of mystery ..." [It's a touching moment, and all, and he's been wanting it for a long time, but this is still Gabriel we're talking about]
"You mean his air of cheap theatrics," Loki murmured darkly beside him, but the god was smiling. Gabriel elbowed him viciously. [Not to mention Loki. Look, they're just not good at the whole touchy-feely, support-your-partner-without-teasing-the-Hell-out-of-him thing]
"And where did I learn the cheap theatrics?" he purred pointedly, grinning up. [Besides. A friendly pissing contest is a good distraction]
Loki smirked. "Oh no. You don't get to blame that on me. We may have been stuck together for a few centuries, but I promise you, the cheesy flourish is all you, Gabriel. Ask Jor, here. I was never that cheap." [A friendly pissing contest in which the pot calls the kettle black, and there are blatant lies on all sides, of course]
Castiel felt the rich, rumbling thread of the Serpent's amusement curling through him, the vibrations of laughter through the snout beneath his hand. "Brother Sleipnir might disagree," the Leviathan noted disingenuously, tilting his vast head to the side in faux innocence and almost knocking the lot of them into the sea. Loki scowled impressively. [Yes, Jor. Bring up the bestiality, mpreg incident, why don't you? Sell your father out, there's a good kid]
"Oh, I don't know," Castiel decided to weigh in, before the weight of Gabriel's smug smile could threaten to capsize them itself and beat the Serpent to the punch. "I remember rumours in the garrison, about Gabriel having to talk his way out of having lost a certain Trumpet ..." [Cas is going to fit right in, I can just tell]
The god and the archangel looked at each other, their faces so strangely twinned, their expression eeriely similar, and nodded in unison, twin smirks creeping over their faces. [The other advantage of wearing the same face is that they can do this. Have some fun, creep people out ... you know the drill, Trickster]
"Dump the homicidal brother somewhere safe, Gabriel," Loki purred. "You can take Jor. I'll pin Cas."
"No need," the archangel grinned, rising slow and ready and eager. "Raph'll be unconscious for ages yet. I'm sure he'll be fine. These two, on the other hand ..." [Petty vengeance, you say? No! Would we drop important things just for that? Don't know what you mean. *snickers at them*]
Castiel watched them warily, feeling his own mouth curl into a smile, the vast bulk of the World Serpent shaking in amusement and challenge behind him. He looked up, met Jormungandr's cunning eyes, and grinned. Well, he had come to Earth to run, this time. And a little race couldn't hurt. Blow off steam. Get rid of all the adrenalin pumping through Jimmy's body after the stress of Heaven and Raphael ...
"You will have to catch us first," he challenged quietly, and laughed at the flash of delight in both their eyes as he leapt into the air and his new comrade dove beneath the waves. He'd never played a game with one of his brothers before. Never played at all, really.
He looked forward to learning how.[And Cas could really do with learning how to play. Though I'm pretty sure Hel, who was keeping an eye on things, had to show up after they'd gone to fish Raph back out of the sea. *shakes head* I really should write the next part of that, where they explain stuff to Cas. And Raph. Hmmm ...]
[End]
Castiel had expected many things, returning to Heaven. Expected chaos, confusion, fear. Anger. Even violence. What he had not expected, not really ... was the grief. The hollow, white rage, the mindless desolation. The grief. For Michael, for Zachariah. Even for Lucifer. He had not expected that. [I really, really don't think Heaven is going to be an easy fix, after the Apocalypse. Missing God, missing all the archangels except Raph, who's not exactly stable to my mind, missing Zach who, while he may have been a greedy, grasping bastard, at least kept things running ... All Heaven has left are lots of angels milling around not knowing what happened, and a few who do know what happened and have reason to be extraordinarily bitter/pissed off/psychotic about it. And Cas wants to fix that, on his own? Hon, you've really been hanging out with the Winchesters too long ...]
He should have. Even more than a year ago, he should have seen that. Uriel. He should have remembered Uriel. The pain of his old friend, the exhaustion, the grief and hope and cold anger. The pity in the other angel's eyes as he raised his hand to kill Castiel. Not for his death, that pity. For his innocence. Uriel had regretted that Castiel would die without understanding, without realising that God was dead or had abandoned them, without realising the Apocalypse was their only hope, without realising that it was to Lucifer or Michael he should look, not God. Not humanity. That's what Uriel had thought, when he raised his hand with pity in his eyes. [For some reason, I've been missing Uriel lately. I've sort of been tempted on and off to write a fic with him, maybe even him and Cas and Gabe, set post-5x22 ... *breaks off musing* Anyway! I really, really loved that episode, 4x16, and the quiet, sad, misguided passion of him. I sort of wish they'd had time to show the repercussions of Uriel's plan, in Heaven. Show how many angels maybe thought he was making a lot of sense, in a mad sort of way ...]
That's what Heaven thought now. But there was no pity in the eyes of the angels who looked at him on this White Plain. No understanding, no pained grief. Only wild, anguished rage. Only endless grief, and the loss of their last hope. Only the knowledge that, God or no God, right or wrong, Castiel had helped cage all that they had believed in, in the long years without their Father. Only the knowledge that he had helped steal their last hope for reprieve. [Because, from their point of view, that's what he did. He betrayed them, deserted his post, challenged every archangel he came across, killed their brothers in combat, and when push came to shove, he helped put their General in Hell. Michael, the one person they'd believed in, in the absence of the Father. And Cas helped betray him. Me thinks Heaven is going to be just a little bit annoyed about that ...]
Heaven did not forgive something like that. Heaven did not remember how.
He had told Dean he wanted to help them. Clean up the town. Be the sheriff. He'd told Dean that, and he'd meant it. But Heaven didn't want his help. Heaven didn't want his justice. Heaven wanted his blood. His blood, his Grace, his screaming cries. His death. Arm in arm, angels came to kill him. Pushed past thought of consequence. Pushed past caring. And anyway. Even if God really did raise him, if God really had brought him back not once, but twice, well ... third time's the charm, right? Even in Heaven. [And I think, in the part of him that made that decision in the first place, in the part of him that stood beside Chuck and watched the glory of an archangel fall on him ... Cas always knew it would come to that. He always knew]
They wanted him dead. And though that was nothing new, though he had faced that and more over the past year, though he had known, in some little secret place, that maybe this would be the way it ended ... Castiel found he did not want to let them. He didn't want to fight them, he didn't want to die, he had no time to explain. [But now, though, he knows he can fight. Maybe not win, maybe never that, but he can fight. And Cas is a soldier. He's going down swinging]
So he ran. Ran from Heaven, ran to the only place he had ever been even briefly safe. He ran to Earth, to home, to the world he had died twice to protect.
And those angels that could, those angels that had vessels, came after him.
It was Raphael who caught him, in the end. Raphael, wild and crazed, lightning burning behind his eyes as the once-healer surrendered the last shreds of sanity, of compassion. Raphael, who had loved Michael, served beside Zachariah, who had believed with every fiber of his being that their Father had left, that their Father had to have died, rather than let them be hurt so. Rather than let the world go to ruin. Raphael, who thought he had acted in good faith as long as he could, and been ignored for it, while Castiel ... Castiel had known their Father's mercy. Raphael, who had promised him a death, months ago. Raphael, who found time now to fulfill that promise. [*tilts head* Raphael ... okay. Might take some explaining. This is me putting together two threads of thought. The first is that Raphael was the Healer archangel, patron of Healers, and yet when we first meet him in SPN, he's a vast terrible assassin cloud of death, pointed at one of his own brothers. And he knows it, as 5x03 proved. How did he get from one to the other? And then, there's the fact that by this story, Raph has lost his entire family, all the closest members of it. He lost Lucy first, aeons ago. Then his Father. Then Gabriel, as Gabriel fled Heaven. Then, finally, Michael. All dead, missing, or in Hell. And that last is all Cas' fault. So ... I don't think Raphael is all that sane by this point, and I really don't think he's all that fond of Castiel]
As he fell, as he flew, as he tumbled away from that burning, anguished Grace towards Earth, Castiel understood then the pity that had lived in Uriel's eyes. He understood what it was to look at an enemy who had once been a comrade, and feel nothing but pity for their blindness.
He understood what it was like to have to raise your hand anyway. [I like that echo. That by the end of the season, Cas does understand where Uriel was coming from. He picked a different side, in the end, and used different methods to accomplish his goals, but he knows what it is to look at the vast majority of angels in Heaven's service and ... see only how blind they are, how blind they've always been. And Uriel ... Uriel did pity Cas, for not being able to see. And Cas ... Cas feels pity now. But he can't die. He can't just let them kill him]
He led Raphael through the skies, through the fall. Lead him far from humanity, far from anyone that might be hurt by the archangel's maddened grief. To the icy wastes of the north, the howling vastness that still existed in the gaps of humanity's grasping spread, their endless, desperate needs. To the quiet places that yet remained, where an angel could die alone, in peace, and leave no scar upon his charges. Castiel led Raphael north, for one of them to die. There was no other way, now. He understood that.
In a way, he always had. Castiel was, and ever would be, a soldier. The enemy may have changed, the General, the cause ... but the fight had not. The instinct had not.
The pity had not. [Sorry. I adore that Cas so much. Cas the soldier, sword in hand, doing what needs doing come Hell or high water. Literally, in this case. I love sad, rumpled, badass Castiel, Angel of the Lord. In a strange way, he never changed. Not the core of him. He changed sides, priorities, even beliefs to an extent, but never himself. He was always Cas]
Ice boiled as they landed, cracked with a deep and terrible sound as they impacted, and Castiel staggered, blinded by steam and lightning, his blade in his hand. He dove away on pure instinct, feeling Grace sear the air behind him, fighting blind. But he had learned how to do that, in his time on Earth. He had learned how to fight far more than blind. Without Grace, without strength, without sense, without hope. He had learned that, over and over at Dean's side, at Sam's side. He had learned that. He would not fall now. Not now. He ran, he dodged, he called Grace to shield and deflect and anything, anything that would keep him alive. Castiel did not want to die. Not again.
He'd had just about enough of that, after all. Twice was enough for anyone. [*hums happily* Look, I wanted to fangirl badass Cas for a while, okay? The Cas who kept losing power, steadily, and support, and still kept going. That Cas]
Raphael swung again, furiously, clumsily, maddened past care for skill. The archangel was nothing but raw power and rage, a silent scream of grief and passion against Castiel's senses, a deadly force of hate. He struck out, over and over, while ice screamed and the sea fountained, and angels left in Heaven watched with pitiless eyes.
And then, as ice collapsed, as Castiel staggered and went down on a floe, as Raphael screamed in triumph and agony over him, then, then ... [*shakes head at self* And here I am accusing others of having a dramatic streak ...]
A great head broke the surface of the waves. No. Not great. Massive. Gargantuan, terrible, monstrous. A vast head reared up out of the sea behind the archangel, behind the gleaming arc of Raphael's sword, and turned dark, depthless eyes on their battle. On the archangel. [Then again, it's hard for the Midgard Serpent, the Leviathan, Loki's son, to be anything but dramatic. It's not easy being huge, sometimes]
Castiel cried a warning. Not out of caring but out of sheer, stunned instinct. Castiel called out to what in a past life would have been his brother, his comrade, and screamed to him that an enemy had come. Screamed to him to watch his back, Raphael, please. He called out a warning, crumpled at the archangel's feet, helpless beneath the blade. Raphael didn't listen. Raphael didn't even hear. [Cas can't help it. Thousands of years of habit as a member of the garrison. But Raph's a bit preoccupied at the moment]
The monster reached down his mighty head, tore the sword from Raphael's hands between vast jaws, pulled the archangel screaming into the air, and plunged down once more beneath the surface, carrying Raphael with him out of sight. [And now he's even more preoccupied. *facepalm* Somebody shut me up, please?]
For a second, Castiel did nothing. Shock, sheer disbelief, amazement and pain. Too many things to be believed. For a second, he did nothing.
Then he found his blade, scrabbled to his feet, and raced to dive after the creature and its hapless prey. [Again, he can't help it. Beating Raph himself is one thing. Abandoning another angel to an unknown foe is another. His loyalty has taken a lot of hits lately, but not that many]
Hands caught him. Appearing out of nowhere, wrapping around his waist, pulling him off his feet and back from the edge. Small hands, maybe, but pulsing with power. With such power. Castiel lashed out in shock, wrenched himself free on the edge of the iceberg and spun, sliding on the ice, his blade raised in front of him. He spun. [For some reason, this is one of my favourite images. Loki catching Cas from behind and pulling him to safety. I don't know why.]
And almost fell backwards into the ocean in sheer shock.
"Gabriel??"
The last face his brother had worn in life crinkled, folding itself into an exasperated smile. A far harder smile than any Gabriel had ever worn, holding more potential cruelty than the Messenger had ever owned, ever felt. The creature behind that face smiled, and Castiel knew instantly it was not him. It wasn't Gabriel. [You can tell the difference. There's a hardness to Loki that Gabriel doesn't have. Or that Gabriel makes a better effort to hide, anyway. Of the two, Loki is the more cruel off his own bat. Gabriel ... Gabriel is cruel on or through other people's orders, a servant, and isn't near so vicious on his own. Whether because he's more moral than those orders sometimes, or simply more afraid of consequences when he can't point to someone else and say 'they told me to do it', I'm not quite sure. But paired with Loki, it's the god who strikes first and hardest, and the archangel who follows through]
"Right form, wrong occupant," the creature smirked, and sketched a little bow for Castiel, waving a graceful hand and smiling through gleaming eyes as Castiel backed to the crumbling edge of the ice, between the ocean with its monster and the creature wearing his brother's face. "I'm afraid Gabriel doesn't live here anymore. Had to make alternate arrangements ..." [*grins* I love that dangerous, playful edge of this god. I always did]
"Loki," Castiel whispered quietly. "You're Loki."
The creature -god- grinned, bouncing back on his heels, completely at ease on the ice. For a second, he looked exactly like the archangel that had worn his face, exactly like the man who had possessed him for so many years. For a second, he looked exactly like Gabriel.
Something clenched, hot and hard, in Castiel's stomach.[This is the first time I've really done a fic dealing with an outsider's view of possession, the pain it can cause. I find it slightly odd that it's reversed possession. That the face Cas wants to see is the possessor, and it's the original owner who seems wrong and hurtful in those features. *shakes head at self* I can't ever do anything simple, can I?]
"You're quick, you are," the god grinned, that lurking cruelty fading behind the bright glitter of real humour, studying Castiel up and down. "I thought so, watching you that time. Easy to manipulate, but hard to fool. Pretty rare, the likes of you, you know that? A Trickster's dream, too. Challenging in all the right ways." [Again, I just think Cas must be so fascinating to tricksters/temptors. Straightforward, yet sneaky. Innocent, yet vastly experienced. Submissive in a lot of ways, but capable, so very capable, of thinking for himself, and if he ever decides you're wrong, whether he serves you or not, you are in so much trouble ... Cas is an awesome collection of contradictions, and you do just want to poke at him to see how he'll react ...]
Castiel shook his head, feeling ice cracking warningly beneath his feet, spreading his wings to catch himself. He didn't look back at the ocean. Didn't look down for the monster in its depths. The Leviathan. He knew what it was, now. Who it was. It was the creature before him he had to fear first. But ... [If you had to pick who to be afraid of, Loki or Jor, which one would you go for? Not the serpent, me thinks]
"Raphael," he said, cautiously. "Is he ...?"
Loki tilted his head, eyes crinkling in that wry sarcastic assessment that was so familiar, and Castiel took a moment to curse the god for wearing his brother's face, wearing Gabriel's face. Though technically it had been Loki's face first, and Castiel supposed it was only fair for him to regain it after the archangel had ... had left ... it still made it hard. So very hard. To raise his blade against the one angel in Heaven or Earth who had actually helped him. [Everyone else has turned on him. All his brothers. Everyone else. And Gabriel was the only one who turned back. Not in time for Cas himself to see it, but he would have heard of events of 'Hammer of the Gods'. Gabriel was the only one. And now Loki's stolen his face, and Cas has to fight even him. Kid never gets a break]
"Worried about your enemy," Loki mused. "About the angel who had you on your back with a sword at your throat not five minutes ago." A pause, and then a bright, fierce smile. "Oh yes. You are his brother, aren't you? Bloody archangel wouldn't even try to kill his brother. To fight back. Not in earnest, anyway. And here you are, diving into the ocean after the one who almost killed you. Yup. Definitely Gabriel's. Definitely." [He could have stabbed Lucy in the back anytime in the first five minutes of the Devil's conversation with the illusion-Gabriel. He didn't. He tried to persuade him instead. Tried to make his brother see sense. Lucifer only knew the image was a fake because it's what he would have done, and he needed to a second to figure that out. If Gabriel had just simply killed him straight away, treated him as an enemy from the off ... but he couldn't. Because Lucifer was his brother, and he couldn't. *sighs unhappily*]
Castiel flinched, shrugged, looking away uneasily. "Gabriel was ... I do not know what I was to him, or he to me. I simply want to know ... what will happen to Raphael."
The god watched him for another second, weighing him with eyes full of a laughing darkness, and then he moved. Meandered gently around Castiel, forcing him to circle back around, away from the edge, smirking as he kept his sword instinctively between them, and crouched down on the lip of the ice. Staring down into the iron seas, smile gone soft and pensive. [There are times when Loki can be oddly gently, if still rather smug]
"He'll be fine," Loki said at last, with a small twist of his lips. "Or he'll live, at least. Jor's just going to soften him up a little, toss him back up once he's too beaten to be a danger for a while. Shouldn't take long. Angels don't do at all well underwater, you know. But he'll be fine." He turned his head, eyed Castiel with a smile. "Don't worry. I'd never hear the end of it, if I let him die. But you ... if I'd let you die, Castiel ... oh, that would have been trouble. That would have been a whole heap of trouble. So Raphy here had to take his little bath. Hope you don't mind?" [He's not going to admit it, ever, but Loki is rather of the opinion that Gabriel's lost enough family for the time being. Besides. He likes what little he's seen of Cas]
Castiel frowned, confused. "Why?" he asked, warily. "Why would you want to protect me? I am not ... there is no-one ... there would be no consequence for letting me fall. Not for you ..." He stopped, but Loki was already smiling, that slow, cruel smirk, eager anticipation, and he was looking behind Castiel, looking beyond him ... [Cas, on the other hand, has no idea who Loki is beyond the basics, or why he'd do anything for the brother of someone who stole his body. Consequently, our suspicious little angel is rather wary ...]
"Oh, but there would be," a slow, familiar voice purred behind him, smiling as Castiel turned to stare into familiar, sardonic eyes, smiling as he looked into a mirror of the god behind him, the very same face, but this one ... This one was softer, lighter. More full of humour, more full of caring. This one was so, so familiar ... [*smiles stupidly* Sorry, sorry. Weregild was fun, but it was still in Hel's halls, the land of the dead. This is the first time ... Gabriel's back. Back on earth, back dealing with the boys, back smirking and snarking and having fun. And I wanted him to have the same face. Loki can shift in and out of his if he chooses (he doesn't, because he and Gabriel like messing with people and he's gotten comfortable besides, but the option is there), but Yahweh gave Gabriel back this body, or a copy of it. Because that's Gabriel, in my head]
"Gabriel?" Castiel whispered, not daring to believe. Not again. "Gabriel?" [One archangel, returned from the dead, and still on his side. He's not ... even after getting resurrected twice, Cas doesn't trust that things like that can happen to him]
"Hey, little bro," Gabriel said gently, before flashing Loki a smile. "Don't you worry about this old Trickster. He'll help you, or I'll have his head. Part of the deal, that, and he knows it. And if I don't ... well, there's Dad, too. Hel may be able to stare our Father down with no ill effects, but Loki might find himself having a little more trouble ..." [I think Gabe's still kinda dizzy over the fact that he can talk to Loki, now. That Loki can act on his own, and Gabriel can growl at him for it, and watch the sneer ... He misses being wrapped around his god, misses being part of him, but there's a kind of rush to this, too]
"It's His own fault," the god grinned, resting his hands on his hips as he matched Gabriel smirk for smirk, challenging and bright as Castiel stared between them, completely confused. "If the little bastard wouldn't keep challenging people who want to kill him, we wouldn't have this problem! You don't see me knocking on Odin's door, do you? No. If Castiel had died, it would have been his own stupid fault, and First-father can blame no-one but Himself!"[Well, not yet, anyway. Cas doesn't know this, so it isn't obvious from his POV. But Loki does do shit like knock on his archenemy's door and demand to be allowed a drink and a chat. Loki does keep challenging people who want to kill him. Gleefully. I think it's part of the sneaky regard he has for Cas. Gabriel, on the other hand, having some survival instinct when we're not dealing with his brothers, isn't half so cavalier about it. Until he's pushed, and tired, and bitter and laughing darkly at himself, and then we get things like 'Hammer of the Gods'. They both waltzed into that one, knowing what was waiting, and they did it as dramatically as possible, because they are damn well going out with a bang ...]
Gabriel tilted his head, pouting thoughtfully. "Huh. Could work. Maybe. It has merit, and after Hel dressed him down ... it could work, I guess." A slow grin. "Still leaves me to answer to, though. What were you planning to say to me, darling?" [But that's past, now, they've determined, so now we're going to tease and taunt, and play games, and pretend it didn't hurt ...]
Loki smirked. "Maybe I wasn't planning to tell you anything," he murmured dangerously, prowling towards the archangel, towards his twin in face and power and mischief. "Maybe I was planning to simply spend the next century or so ravishing you so senseless you couldn't remember your own name, let alone your suicidal little brother ..." [And flirt. Naturally. They've got a body apiece, now, and poor innocent little brothers to shock]
Gabriel grinned fiercely, fanning wings in challenge, bouncing on his toes as he circled the god. "You think you're that good, Loki darling? You think you could?" [Of course, flirting doesn't mean they can't fight each other, too. Competitive and combative, the pair of them]
And Loki grinned, and looked all set to answer, when suddenly the ice beneath them heaved, almost knocking the three of them off into the sea. Gabriel instantly darted forward to grab the god around the waist, tug him close and pull him rapidly into the air, clutching Loki protectively to his chest. The archangel cast around for a moment until he saw that Castiel had followed them up, flashing Castiel a small smile of relief. [*bites lip, spreads hands helplessly* He's spent centuries wrapped around his god. Instinct]
Castiel simply frowned, confused by too many things, still barely able to believe that Gabriel was alive, was here, and that the archangel also appeared to be here in the arms of a pagan god was simply too much to handle right now. Besides. He had other concerns. [Cas. Wonderful, pragmatic Cas. He doesn't get it, he's slightly worried about it, but there's nothing he can do for now, so he's just going to focus on what he can do, and sort out his big brother's love life later]
He watched the huge head rise once more from the waves beneath them, massive, weighty and serene. Watched Jormungandr, the Midgard Serpent, the Leviathan, rise from the deeps once again. Watched the creature reach down and lay a crumpled body on the ice.
Watched him return Raphael to them. [Because, wonderful and confusing and amusing as Gabriel's return is, Cas came here with a purpose, and Heaven is still waiting, still hurting, still crying out after him]
He barely waited until the World Serpent had pulled back his jaws before he was darting down, skidding on the landing as he reached for the archangel's body, as he reached to check. He heard Gabriel hit the ice behind him, far more gracefully, but paid little attention, searching for the vessel's pulse, the angel's Grace. Searching for proof that Raphael was yet alive. And as Gabriel knelt silently beside him, as one archangel reached down to cradle another's head ... he found it. Found Raphael. Battered but alive. [This is Gabriel's brother, too. And the archangel hasn't recovered himself from the Apocalypse, and all it meant for him, and his family ...]
Castiel had brought him here to die. He had brought Raphael to Earth, to this quiet place, so that one of them could fall, and the other finally be free. So that they could end this war between them and know at last the pity that Uriel had known, so very briefly. So that they could know a soldier's mercy. He had brought Raphael here to die. [A soldier's death. After all the losses and betrayals on all sides, it would have seemed ... at least cleaner. More ... respectful]
And now, he didn't have to. Not yet. Not if Castiel could have the chance to talk to him, to help him, to explain ... everything he had wanted as he flew through Heaven's gates once more. Not if Castiel could show him ... so much. The proof of their Father's caring. The worthiness of humanity. The true cost of the war, and it's true solution ... [But if Heaven would just listen to him, it wouldn't have been necessary. And there's nothing like a sudden cold bath courtesy of a giant sea serpent for getting people to sit down and shut up for a while ...]
He looked up, up at the towering mass of the Leviathan, of Loki's monstrous son. Looked up to meet the depthless, intelligent eyes of Jormungandr, the World Serpent. Looked up, reached out, one pale hand outstretched towards jaws that could swallow him whole, tear him apart, and Castiel whispered thank you. To a monster and the son of a monster. For sparing his enemy's life, for saving more than the Serpent could know. [The threat of death has never been much of an impediment for Cas, has it?]
Jormungandr almost flinched, his great form quivering in shock, and he lowered his massive head to nudge Castiel's hand. Slowly, waiting for Castiel to flinch back, to retreat in shock and revulsion, or in fear and anger. Jormungandr reached down and touched his nose to Castiel's hand, murmuring silently his welcome, and Castiel did not flinch. He had learned better. Instead he smiled, desperate with relief and sudden hope, and leaned in to rest his forehead against the great jaws. [From around about 4x16 on, Cas has been repeatedly taught that not all the 'good guys' are really good, and sometimes the monsters, the abominations, even occasionally the demons are on your side. And even unlike most of them, Jor hasn't yet accidentally set off the Apocalypse, or stuck a knife in him just to check, or spent a few centuries selling humans down the river ... as far as Cas is concerned, Jor can look like whatever he wants, he's still the most helpful being Cas has come across in a long time, so he won't treat him like a monster. Jor, though, has no idea why that is, or what to do with it, except be gentle and hope it doesn't stop]
"Thank you," he rasped again. "You don't know what you've saved ... Thank you."
"Alright," said another voice, very quietly, in surprise and soft ferocity. Castiel lifted his head, looked round to see Loki standing beside Gabriel, to see the god's hand digging into the archangel's shoulder so hard it had to hurt, his expression dark and haggard, laid open. Gabriel, kneeling beside him over his fallen brother, only smiled, soft and broken and proud. "Alright," Loki repeated. "We'll take care of him, Gabriel. Just this one. Just for that." [Neither does Loki. Gabriel sort of suspected, because he knows how different Cas is from your bog-standard smite-happy angel (now, anyway, but definitely compared to how he would have been when Gabriel left Heaven), but even Gabriel was still nervous. Very, very nervous. Angels do not look kindly on relations with monsters, and he wants there to be one brother, one brother, who actually accepts what he's done, who treats his new family as something other than target practice, as things beneath even contempt]
"I told you," the archangel said softly, cradling Raphael's head. "I told you he was the best of them. My little brother." He bit his lip, smiling rich and proud at Castiel. "Family worth fighting for. I told you." [And that brother is Cas. Because Cas has his own new family, the abominations he loves. Cas gets it]
"Yes," Loki whispered, and his dark gaze wrapped around more than Castiel, reaching out to embrace his son and something more beyond him, something Castiel could not see. "Yes." [Fenrir's waiting, and Hel, and maybe ... maybe there is a chance ... Gabriel still wants to be part of his old family, Loki knows that, and maybe there is a chance ...]
Castiel blinked, looking between them. "Gabriel?" he asked quietly. Demanded, maybe. "Gabriel ... what is this? What ... What are you?" [Cas, though, has no idea of any of that, has no notion of Loki's family beyond the Serpent currently pressed against him, has no notion of what his Father and Hel have been up, of how Gabriel came back, of any of it, and he'd really like an explanation sometime soon. Things he has no notion of have a bad habit of trying to kill him, in Cas' experience, so sooner rather than later, if you please ...]
The archangel smiled faintly, and shook his head. "Nothing, kid," he answered wryly. "Nothing at all. Just a big brother who maybe missed his chance once, and wants to make up for it. Just someone who wants ... to look out for you, that's all. Me and my ... my lover here. If ... If you'll have us?" His voice cracked around the end, his eyes dropping down to stare blindly at Raphael, and beside him Loki all but radiated power and danger and fierce, protective challenge, his hand still resting possessively on Gabriel's shoulder. [He wants his family. Gods, he wants his family so badly, and coming in on the tail-end of being murdered by his brother, and resurrected by his Father and his new family ... and here's Cas, suddenly, dealing with Jor and Loki like they're people (dangerous people, yes, but it's more than most do), and suddenly he's hoping. He doesn't want to, given what hope usually gets him, but he can't help it. And right now, given what they've just been through, Loki is perfectly capable of pasting Cas over a few countries if he lets Gabriel get hurt again]
Behind Castiel, Jormungandr moved, pushing forward gently to nudge Castiel towards them. Castiel looked back at him, and saw in ancient, serpentine eyes a love, a hope, a warm pity and a soft understanding. Leviathan, great and terrible beast of legend, and when he looked towards his father and his father's angel, what whispered in vast, dark eyes was a simple echo. Family worth fighting for.[*grins* I think Jor, like Hel, is quietly and gently determined to make things work for their Dad and his angel. If for no other reason than that both Loki and Gabriel seem incapable of trying to make things work for themselves. *shakes head* They need such looking after. What's a kid to do?]
And Castiel ... had to agree. [Which Cas, after so long shepherding Winchesters around the place, watching them self-destruct for each other and need help picking themselves and each other up ... Cas understands completely. Plus. Heaven's just turned on him all over again. He wants his brother back too. Badly, in his own understated kind of way ...]
"Always, brother," he said, turning on his knees to look at Gabriel once more. To smile his own tired, hopeful smile. "I missed you, Gabriel," he admitted softly. "When Sam told me ... I missed you. I wished ... many things. I did not think I would ever get a chance to ask them again. To ask you ..." [I know they were rushed, towards the end of S5, but I was still annoyed that we never got to see the boys telling Cas what had happened to Gabriel. We never got to see how that affected him, that one brother did take his side, and promptly died for it ...]
Gabriel bit his lip, the corner of his mouth curling up, eyes bright and shining for a second before he mastered himself, before he pushed back that terrible vulnerability and managed a challenging grin. "Hey now," he managed. "Never said I was going to answer questions or anything, bro! An archangel's gotta keep up his air of mystery ..." [It's a touching moment, and all, and he's been wanting it for a long time, but this is still Gabriel we're talking about]
"You mean his air of cheap theatrics," Loki murmured darkly beside him, but the god was smiling. Gabriel elbowed him viciously. [Not to mention Loki. Look, they're just not good at the whole touchy-feely, support-your-partner-without-teasing-the-Hell-out-of-him thing]
"And where did I learn the cheap theatrics?" he purred pointedly, grinning up. [Besides. A friendly pissing contest is a good distraction]
Loki smirked. "Oh no. You don't get to blame that on me. We may have been stuck together for a few centuries, but I promise you, the cheesy flourish is all you, Gabriel. Ask Jor, here. I was never that cheap." [A friendly pissing contest in which the pot calls the kettle black, and there are blatant lies on all sides, of course]
Castiel felt the rich, rumbling thread of the Serpent's amusement curling through him, the vibrations of laughter through the snout beneath his hand. "Brother Sleipnir might disagree," the Leviathan noted disingenuously, tilting his vast head to the side in faux innocence and almost knocking the lot of them into the sea. Loki scowled impressively. [Yes, Jor. Bring up the bestiality, mpreg incident, why don't you? Sell your father out, there's a good kid]
"Oh, I don't know," Castiel decided to weigh in, before the weight of Gabriel's smug smile could threaten to capsize them itself and beat the Serpent to the punch. "I remember rumours in the garrison, about Gabriel having to talk his way out of having lost a certain Trumpet ..." [Cas is going to fit right in, I can just tell]
The god and the archangel looked at each other, their faces so strangely twinned, their expression eeriely similar, and nodded in unison, twin smirks creeping over their faces. [The other advantage of wearing the same face is that they can do this. Have some fun, creep people out ... you know the drill, Trickster]
"Dump the homicidal brother somewhere safe, Gabriel," Loki purred. "You can take Jor. I'll pin Cas."
"No need," the archangel grinned, rising slow and ready and eager. "Raph'll be unconscious for ages yet. I'm sure he'll be fine. These two, on the other hand ..." [Petty vengeance, you say? No! Would we drop important things just for that? Don't know what you mean. *snickers at them*]
Castiel watched them warily, feeling his own mouth curl into a smile, the vast bulk of the World Serpent shaking in amusement and challenge behind him. He looked up, met Jormungandr's cunning eyes, and grinned. Well, he had come to Earth to run, this time. And a little race couldn't hurt. Blow off steam. Get rid of all the adrenalin pumping through Jimmy's body after the stress of Heaven and Raphael ...
"You will have to catch us first," he challenged quietly, and laughed at the flash of delight in both their eyes as he leapt into the air and his new comrade dove beneath the waves. He'd never played a game with one of his brothers before. Never played at all, really.
He looked forward to learning how.[And Cas could really do with learning how to play. Though I'm pretty sure Hel, who was keeping an eye on things, had to show up after they'd gone to fish Raph back out of the sea. *shakes head* I really should write the next part of that, where they explain stuff to Cas. And Raph. Hmmm ...]
[End]
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