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In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and Darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters. The wind brought with it light, life, grace. The Darkness followed behind, full of death and destruction.
Eyes opened. Tens of thousands of eyes opening all at once as consciousness and awareness flooded into his being. His? He was beyond any form or concept of gender but he supposed that the masculine would suffice. He was light and power, glory and praise, sight and knowledge. His heads tilted, his eyes took in the void around him.
A voice spoke, like the tinkling of a wind chime and the booming of thunder. “Gabriel.”
All of his focus shifted to the voice. It had called his name. He had never heard his name before but he knew it was his. He knew this being, just as he knew his brothers though he had not physically encountered them, yet, for Gabriel knew all things that were known (though he also knew that there would be much to learn). He knew that this was an entity of great power, even greater than his own, and capable of unimaginable wonders; a being that deserved worship and adoration. He spoke, his own voice both a roar and a whisper. “Hey Pops.”
He instinctively knew that time was short. Like his brothers before him, he was created with a purpose. Three more beings surrounded him and his father - their father - as the Darkness drew near. The battle was not lengthy, nor was it particularly glorious. Darkness clashed with light and grace as black smoke, thick and viscous, surrounded them, tore into them, threatening to pull their very beings apart.
Gabriel felt her attacks more than he saw them, her claws and teeth ripping into him. Pain, he realized, pain and fear. The words came unbidden to his mind but they were, he knew, exactly what he was experiencing. He had just been created, he did not want to be destroyed.
It was with that thought that Gabriel unleashed the full power of his grace. His brothers did the same, all of them moving in synchronicity. It hadn’t been his thought, Gabriel discerned, or not his alone. Though he was the youngest, all of his brothers had been created like him; in the same manner - with great haste - and for the same purpose - to defeat the Darkness. Though this was their father’s intent, their victory was not assured and their father had given them a mental connection, allowing them to communicate with one another and hopefully giving them the advantage.
After another coordinated attack, it seemed that it was a helpful skill. The smoke that had surrounded them seemed to recoil and the archangels pushed harder, instinctively corralling her towards the prison their father had devised.
There was a shriek as the Darkness was locked away. The father turned to his sons, a grave decision to make. One of them needed to bear the key to her cell. Michael - who is like God; Lucifer - light bringer; Raphael - God heals; Gabriel - God is my strength; each of them would be capable. However, God’s eyes passed over his two youngest sons, landing, instead, on the older pair. Michael was the oldest and would have much responsibility, Gabriel knew, but Lucifer, the bringer of dawn, the morningstar, was the obvious choice.
With the mark burned deeply into his son’s grace, God set about the creation that the Darkness had long denied him.
“It is not good for you to be alone, my children,” their father commented. “Now that there is peace and time, we will create our home and I will populate it with a new generation of angels. You are the most perfect of beings and, while none shall match you in power or ability, these next shall be like you.”
Gabriel watched in awe as his father raised his arms and a garden grew up around them. This was to be the center of their home, the center of heaven, he realized, and it was beautiful. His eyes were glued to his father as God pulled pieces from nowhere, creating a series of angels. He worked in batches, finishing one group before moving onto the next. “Joshua… Uriel… Metatron… Gadreel…” each of the new angels was called forth into existence.
These were created with purpose in mind, Joshua to tend the Garden, Uriel a defensive specialist, Metatron the scribe, Gadreel to guard against evil. All the rest had similar reason behind their creation, Gabriel knew as all except Joshua left the garden and his father began creating again.
This time, Gabriel mimicked the motions and all of his eyes opened wide as a being was slowly formed before him. He looked to his father who was smiling back at his son and Gabriel knew that his own power was being enhanced by the power of God, allowing him to participate in the creation of this angel.
“Naomi… Zachariah… Hannah… Bartholomew…” God spoke, millions of eyes opening. God turned his face to Gabriel expectantly.
Gabriel was surprised, not only that he had been given the privilege of this scale of creation but, also, that the naming of this new being would fall to him, too. Wind rushed from his body, the sound of crashing waves mixed with birdsong, “Castiel.”
Gabriel studied Castiel as his father created a final set of angels. He was different from the others thanks to Gabriel’s meddling, but he was beautiful in his own right and Castiel studied Gabriel right back.
“Balthazar… Samandriel…”
Fascinated by what he had helped to create, Gabriel barely heard the names his father called out, though he knew them all.
Their father left much of the education and training of the new angels to his four oldest sons so that he could continue feeding his passion for creation.
Michael and Lucifer trained the fledglings in the art of fighting, the older of the pair preferring a more militaristic approach while the younger archangel specialized in subterfuge and underhanded techniques. The arguments that began on the training field could shake heaven to its core.
Raphael was in his own world, sequestered in the Garden where he spent his time studying and teaching the healing arts, leaving Gabriel to serve as the peacemaker between his brothers. As his father’s messenger, he could be rather eloquent when the situation called for it and he supposed this was a fitting use of his position.
When he wasn’t standing between his brothers, Gabriel helped in his own way but, more often, he followed his father, piecing together plants and animals, naming them in his mind but never speaking those titles out loud, as his father had chosen to wait on giving all of the new creations their names. He had been grateful that God had given him another chance after the blobfish and the venus flytrap and the tufted deer were among his favorite works.
Once much of the act of creation seemed to be finished, Gabriel encouraged small acts of free thought among the fledglings. His brothers, he knew, would never understand or embrace such a thing. Each angel had their role, their rank and position, their duties. Even so, Gabriel brought the young angels down to explore the new world their father was building. He watched them interact with the animals and plants that had been placed on the earth with great care, trying to view each new species and creature through their eyes. Hannah’s favorite activity had been watching the grass grow and Hael had been so excited by fish that her grace had shifted the path of the river they were exploring and it created a vast and beautiful canyon. Samandriel had been taken in by all of the insects, such miniscule creatures compared to his own angelic size, and the spiders. He handled them with care and fascination as he studied their habits, his grace glowing with delight whenever a new species would cross their path. Gabriel often wondered if he might be well suited to work in the Garden with Joshua.
Castiel, on the other hand, was a gifted and skilled warrior. He was favored by Michael and as time passed, Gabriel found that it become more and more difficult to steal his brother away for an adventure. However, Gabriel did pull him away from Michael whenever the opportunity presented itself. Gabriel could see the pure potential in his brother, all of the archangels could, and he refused to let him be shaped and refined into nothing more than a weapon.
At first, Gabriel believed that Castiel favored the more beautiful parts of their father’s creation. If given the chance, the young angel would spend hours staring into a field of wildflowers or meditating beside a waterfall. In some ways, Gabriel thought, Castiel was like Lucifer, surrounding himself with perfection. When the archangel finally shared that observation with the fledgling, though, Castiel looked almost hurt.
“These places are pristine and idyllic, yes, and I agree that our brother would find great worth in them,” Castiel explained, “but that’s not what I search for here.” He bent down and retrieved a rock. It was round and rough and wholly unremarkable to look at. “I have found that the true beauty in our father’s creation is found in its flaws.” Castiel broke the rock open in his hands, revealing the purple crystals inside that had formed around a pocket of air, an imperfection in the soil.
Gabriel smiled at his brother. “Never change, Cassie.”
He might have said more but thunder sounded in the distance and the brothers turned their faces toward heaven. Gabriel’s face darkened, his senses and grace tingling at the start of yet another fight between Michael and Lucifer.