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It had been during a stormy night on Earth that the Archangel Gabriel had first stumbled into the little fledgling. That was the period in which Lucifer had just started to strongly appreciate the gift his Father had given to him decades before, the Thunder, and, to Gabriel, it looked like the enjoyment in his older brother's actions could have hardly been pulled off if not in a few millennia. Obviously, Gabriel thought. He gets the Storm. I get a Horn.
Gabriel sighed to
himself and raised the bigger of his golden wings above his wet
figure, covering himself from the iced rain falling from the sky. The
land in which he was standing was completely desert, despite its
beauty, as Men had chosen the warmth of their comfiest caves over the
freezing winter weather, while most of the Angels had retired in
Heaven, as God had suggested to. He pretended, sometimes, that the
distance he tended to set between his brothers and himself was
obliged and moved by something else than his own will and rebellion.
Of course, his mind wasn't so easy to be tricked, and he constantly
fell in doubt and guilt. He always failed.
Gabriel kept watching
the horizon, tilting his head.
It was only after a few silent
moments that he felt the edge of his robe being gently pulled
downwards, slightly revealing his shoulder, and his eyes trailed off
to his leg, where a little fledgling stood. «I'm scared»,
he softly mumbled between his tears, tightly holding onto his knee.
Gabriel smiled, reassuringly. «Hey, little one. What are
you doing down here?», he asked, and he picked him up in his
soft embrace. His tiny black wings trembled when Gabriel wrapped his
arms around him, but the child kept silent. «Shouldn't you be
with our brothers?», he gently insisted.
The fledgling's
brow furrowed. «I don't like to stay there», he
whispered, as if just telling him those words were a sin. «I
prefer to stay on Earth».
Gabriel froze, shocked but not
angry – because he reminded so much of himself, so much -, his
only movement being his wings slightly flapping in astonishment.
That
made the little fledgling's day.
He stared at them in awe,
unconsciously committing an act of disrespect, but being too young
to even realize that. Gabriel's six wings started glowing under his
wondered eyes, making Gabriel's form shine with glory, their tips
lounging towards their bodies in an act of renewed brotherly affect,
as if in a tender feathered hug. «Why do you have six wings?»,
he asked and raised a hand to gingerly stroke the golden feathers
near his shoulder blade, jealousy shimmering in his eyes.
Gabriel
grinned. «Because I am an Archangel».
In the exact
moment he finished pronouncing his rank, the little fledgling's eyes,
already widened in wonder, suddenly grew bigger with terror, and he
rushed to get out of the tender hug Gabriel had wrapped him in. «Are
you Lucifer?», he asked, wings flapping in horror.
And
Gabriel's arms suddenly felt heavy, just as his brother's name had
started to get out of the little angel's lips. His limbs grew heavy,
his heart started running, his face suddenly whitened as if someone
had painted him with chalk.
Lucifer's farewell still burned into
the center of his chest, nostalgia and sorrow still filling up his
veins whenever his name was spoken or he heard the ramblings of his
brothers about the current situation. Of course the fledgling would
have thought he was Lucifer; they were just so alike. Same
anguished soul, same beautiful wings, same instinct to rebel and to
tend towards free will. And of course he would have feared him:
nothing, nor the storm, nor the stories adolescent angels used to
scare the fledglings, nor God's most terrible moment of anger could
have been as scary as Lucifer himself. Even for Gabriel himself. And,
anyway, Gabriel wasn't by any chance different.
«I'm not»,
he whispers, a request of forgiveness shining into his growing tears.
«I am Gabriel».
The Monster. The Devil's favorite
Brother, the one that secretly still loved him, even after he
rebelled, just because he was his brother. The next demon. The
Beast's closest friend. These were the voices that ran after
Gabriel every time he showed himself in Heaven: ramblings, shocked
whispers, heads being shaken and angels covering the youngest
fledgling's eyes. How dare he show himself here, after all that
happened? I thought he had left to stay with his brother. They say he
approves him. What a monster. Father should send him down, straight
to Hell.
«Gabriel», the fledgling whispers.
Wonder why he hasn't still done it. Father says he would never
send him away, that he hasn't done anything if not try to forgive his
brother. I say he should burn with him.
«You're the
good one».
Gabriel frowned. «Sorry?». Never he
had heard something like that, in the last few years. Never his
second name had been anything than insults. And he, of course, blamed
his brother for what he used his free will to; he had hated every
choice he had made since the day he had left his Father and he had
fell to Hell. Still, he would have never stopped loving him, whatever
he had done, whatever he'd become. Because, for him, he would have
always been his bigger brother.
But none of the angels
understood.
Instead, the fledgling insisted. «You are not
grumpy like Michael or Raphael. You are the good one. In my garrison,
they say you can make the sun shine brighter than anyone can, even
during the worst of Lucifer's storms».
Gabriel's smile
widened. «What's your name, little one?».
«Castiel».
«Nice
to meet you, Castiel». And he stopped the rain from falling,
holding the fledgling tighter.