Chapter Text
For a brief second before being expelled, Gadreel could feel Sam’s reaction and the reason he was being sent away with such adversity. He saw the moment his vessel realized what the angel had done while possessing him and the anguish caused by that. Gadreel sensed his pain and guilt over all the killings that weren't even done with his consent or acknowledgement, and that made Gadreel wonder if there was something wrong with him. He was feeling some shame for what he did under Metatron’s orders, however he did not regret it since his goal was justified. "But maybe I should feel something about it,” he kept thinking.
He had seen in Sam’s memories that this apparently simple human had been referred to as respectable by others. The praise had come from mere humans, but either way it was more than Gadreel had heard about himself in a very long time. He felt something towards Sam Winchester that was surely dishonorable - envy. He wanted to be respected and trusted by others once again. “This is why I’m doing this,” he reminded himself. “I’m being a good soldier for Metatron, the first of the new angels worthy of entering Heaven after our falling from there.” However he knew he wasn’t that either. A good soldier’s hand wouldn’t hesitate to execute his target.
Gadreel looked at the angel he had easily overpowered and the confused look in those eyes assured him that he wouldn’t be able to finish this job. He realized he was feeling conflicted about it, which was a very odd reaction for him. Until recently, killing someone had never felt particularly hard or wrong.
Gadreel let go of his already disarmed target. “Change your vessel and lay low, Agiel” he said. “Your survival must remain a secret for the sake of us both.”
The other angel stared at him for a few seconds. “Are you serious? Am I supposed to just hide for the rest of my life? I was…” he began, his voice breaking for a second. “I was doing fine until you showed up, finally building a life outside Heaven… Why couldn’t you just leave me be?”
“I had orders to follow.”
“Orders…” Agiel repeated with disgust. “Not a word that means that much since the Fall, is it? God let us be thrown out of Heaven and our wings be burnt beyond repair so now we even have to walk like earthly vermin instead of flying. He didn’t answer to any of our prayers, no matter how many eons we followed his will. So what orders could be more important and less meaningless than those from God?”
“The orders of a new God” Gadreel replied, hoping to sound more convinced than he really was by the title Metatron had chosen for himself.
Agiel scoffed. “What happened to you, Gadreel? You used to be… well, better than this before your mistake.”
“If you really wanted to know that you would have visited me while I was unfairly imprisoned, brother.”
Gadreel could see on Agiel’s face that he wanted to fight that statement, but the other angel ended up remaining quiet. Gadreel wondered if that was because of his words carrying some truth or because of the angel blade he was still holding. The two of them used to be close before his imprisonment, even if not nearly as close as he grew to be with Abner. Gadreel didn’t like remembering all that, there was nothing to look back at with fondness anymore.
“Please, just use this mercy to stay out of Metatron’s sight, Agiel,” he said.
“Mercy… Next time you want to be merciful, just don’t go around ruining someone’s life!”
Gadreel didn’t feel the need to answer, so he just watched Agiel as he got up. The other angel slowly picked up his blade and turned around. He walked towards the exit of the building where Gadreel had attacked him, all while looking over his shoulder. However, Gadreel had no intention of attacking again, being more preoccupied with his thoughts about how this would play out for him. He wondered if he should even hide from Metatron that he spared his last target considering that there was no other angel who would finish off the kill. He still was the only one following Metatron, but the former scribe was assuring him he would be far from the last and Gadreel knew better than to question such a serious promise.
He headed quickly to the place where he needed to report everything, but Metatron wasn’t there yet. Or maybe he was and he had decided to hide to test Gadreel’s patience, it was hard to say with someone like him. Either way, it didn’t matter for Gadreel since he was more than used to waiting, so when the other angel finally appeared at the table, he didn’t even bring it up.
“Is the job done?” Metatron asked before anything else.
“Yes,” Gadreel answered quickly. He had learned from his time spent with Dean Winchester that the least he was saying, the more convincing his lies could be. “But there’s something I need to ask of you, Metatron.”
"Remind me, how did I tell you to call me?"
"My apologies, I forgot… X." It was a silly name, but not something worth arguing over, especially considering it was still the second best option after his actual name.
"That's better," Metatron said, visibly pleased. “So was there an issue again?”
“No, it went smoothly. But I… I don’t want to kill anyone else,” Gadreel confessed.
Metatron looked at him with prying eyes and didn’t raise his voice, but didn’t hide any of his disappointment either.
“You didn’t actually kill Agiel, did you?”
“I didn’t.” Gadreel admitted to himself that there was no way for Agiel to lay low enough to go unnoticed for a long time now that Metatron would think to look for him. “However I assure you that he will stay out of our way.”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass about that! I asked you to kill him and you couldn’t even do something that simple!” Any semblance of Metatron acting collected was shattered.
“I don’t understand. Why do you need him dead? The only one who was a problem for your plans was…”
“Shut up! Is your job to question my plan or to follow it? Did you change your mind about wanting to be my right hand angel in Heaven? Do you not want to fix your reputation anymore? That’s fine by me, remain Gadreel the loser if that’s what you want!”
Gadreel looked to the ground for a second to show that he was not proud of his actions, then raised his head again. “No, that’s still what I desire. It will always be what I want.” He didn’t necessarily like Metatron, but that didn’t doubt his intellect and power, which he had proven by making all the angels fall with a spell that no one else knew about. In fact, its effect had been so severe that none of them could return home anymore, not without Metatron’s help.
Gadreel was not willing to let everything he had done already go to waste. He was going to do anything to erase the mistake and unpleasant decisions that tainted his past and present. He was going to obtain a new start in Heaven thanks to his new boss.
“Okay, so are you still in?” Metatron asked, slightly calmed down.
“I’m… in” Gadreel accepted, unsure if he was using the expression correctly. "But I still have to refuse to kill anyone else." He still remembered Kevin’s burnt eyes and Abner’s blood on his hands. Thaddeus had deserved it, but the rest did not.
“And why is that?” the scribe insisted. “Are you pretending to have high morals now?”
"No, it is nothing like that. I just can’t do it anymore, but I can still do anything else.”
Metatron let out a sigh. "Fine, you already got all the targets to which you'd have more access than most people.”
Gadreel knew that he was referring mostly to the prophet boy. Metatron had already made it clear to him that he was not pleased with Gadreel’s forceful removal from Sam Winchester, saying that role could have still been useful if it had gone on for longer. But weirdly enough, Gadreel had found the expulsion to be a blessing in disguise. He was relieved to not have to pretend to be someone else anymore and to be in a vessel that voluntarily let him in, without any trickery. His old vessel had accepted him again, uncaring of what the angel would do with his body as long as he didn’t have to live his mediocre life. Gadreel did not feel as strong now as while possessing Sam, but that was to be expected when going from Lucifer’s true vessel to a common one. It was a fair price to pay to finally have some peace and not have to feel the fragile mess that was Sam’s mind and body.
Despite all that, it was still jarring for Gadreel to hear how casually Metatron was talking about his killings while he was still tensing up remembering the last two of them. Kevin Tran was neither a fighter nor a fellow angel. He had nothing to do with what happened to him eons ago, he was just an unfortunate roadblock in Metatron’s need for power. According to Sam’s information about him, Kevin had been a pawn in the celestial plans for years, an innocent human trapped in a prophet's life whose own desires and identity didn’t really matter anymore. The boy had become a prisoner of fate and that was something Gadreel could understand, a pain that was familiar to him.
However, killing Abner had been even worse than killing Kevin Tran. Abner had been a good angel, a loyal friend to him if not more, and a comrade in suffering in Heaven’s prison. Gadreel never wanted to hurt him and hated every second of ending his life, but he was unfortunately a roadblock on his own way to a better life. Abner had done nothing wrong as an angel except choosing to not join Gadreel on this quest, but that had sadly been enough. Reclaiming their place in Heaven and fixing their tarnished reputation was way more important than wasting time with a human family and Gadreel wished his old friend could have seen that.
“You will deliver a message from me” Metatron said, putting a stop to his reminiscing. “You think you can handle that much without fucking it up?”
“Yes, I can do that.”
“Good. I don’t want to see any other mistakes from you.” Metatron took out a piece of paper out of a small notebook and quickly wrote something on it. Gadreel couldn’t see the message, but that didn’t bother him, knowing that a messenger had to respect confidentiality whenever possible. Once the scribe finished writing he folded the piece of paper and added a name on top of it, then pushed it towards his follower.
Gadreel took it, but he didn’t recognize the name. “Is this the name of another vessel?” he asked.
“How sharp of you!” Metatron replied with obvious irony.
“Who is this angel?”
“Does it matter?”
“Perhaps it does. I want to know how hard the fight would be if it got to that.” Gadreel wasn’t thrilled by the idea of killing someone in self-defense either, but it was different from doing it unprovoked and he preferred it over getting killed by a potentially aggressive angel.
“Planning ahead?” Metatron asked. “I suppose some of my good habits finally rubbed off you. Her name is Jophiel.”
The name sounded familiar to Gadreel, but he was fairly sure he didn’t personally know her. “Understood. What about Agiel?” he asked, unable to contain his curiosity.
“What about him?” There was a clear threat in Metatron’s voice, the suggestion that they shouldn’t talk about his failed mission anymore, so Gadreel just nodded.
“I expect a cleaner job from you this time,” Metatron added.
“It will be,” Gadreel promised. He placed the small letter in his pocket and left the bar.
While searching for Jophiel, he couldn’t avoid thinking about the time when he was seen as way more than a disappointment in multiple ways. He used to have such an honorable burden on his shoulders, guarding the Garden of Eden, which was a task that other angels wouldn’t have even dreamed of receiving. How did it all go so wrong? How did he get tricked so easily to let the Serpent into the Garden? How was a simple mistake destroying his life even eons later? If only he hadn’t become known as the one who ruined it all for God’s most treasured creation, then a lot would have happened differently for him after the Fall. He wouldn’t have had to impersonate Ezekiel to seek shelter, he wouldn’t have been kicked out of his vessel by one of the Winchester’s peculiar allies, a demon of all things - as if Gadreel was an even lesser pest compared to one of the pitiful souls from hell, - and he wouldn’t have had to return to Metatron with shame in his heart. But he couldn’t turn back time to undo the last eons of his dreadful existence. All he was capable of was doing things better this time and his best chance for it was following Metatron, God’s former scribe and the only angel who still had his full powers.
Castiel had to go out in the field alone ever since Dean left to deal by himself with his feelings regarding Gadreel’s betrayal, but the angel was not blaming his friend for it and he was just relieved that at least he answered to messages sometimes. Meanwhile Sam insisted on helping, but Castiel refused to take him along, knowing that the human was still frail after the trials and still needed more time to heal completely. Either way, Castiel was used to working alone when needed, so doing it once again didn’t really bother him. He was checking every lead he and Sam had found, investigating any event that seemed angel related in the hope they’d find something about Metatron and his plans.
That is how he ended up too close to covering his angel blade in blood the day he met Elijah, one of the last remaining members of the Penitens. They were a pacifist angel faction whose activity made Sam hope they had found Metatron’s track, but they proved to be a dead end instead and not a threat in the slightest. In fact, all the dead vessels spotted in online news seemed to belong to the Penitents themselves, who were being mercilessly hunted down by Bartholomew’s faction, not by Gadreel.
Castiel had known Bartholomew for a long time, even if just in passing, and he wasn't glad to see him in charge of such an aggressive group. The other angel was prone to jealousy and using violence as a first resort, which were not the traits of a great leader in Castiel’s opinion, and his forced meeting with him had reinforced that idea. While Castiel was talking with Elijah, the two were captured by the rival faction and, to his surprise, Bartholomew asked him to ally with his group.
“You gained more power than any of us before,” Bart explained with a forced smile on his face. “If there is anyone who can do it again and restore our place in Heaven, that’s you.”
The discussion between the two became heated and dangerous quickly despite Castiel’s attempts to defuse the situation.
“I am not a threat to you, Bartholomew,” he insisted.
But the faction leader didn’t seem to listen to him, going on and on about his own ideas. “You know, many angels just need to taste a little bit of power to think they could be the next big boss, uncaring that most of them are not built for that! I don’t think you are the exception to the rule.”
Castiel resisted the temptation to tell Bart that he was more fitting of that description, fairly sure that the aggressive angel would take offense to it. He was already in a very dangerous situation, being in the same room with Elijah but also with four more angels who were Bart’s underlings. Castiel knew he had a chance to take them all on and escape if he moved first and fast, but it would have led to a bloody outcome, which he wanted to avoid since enough angels died already. Despite that, he still reached out for the angel blade in his coat out of reflex, but he didn’t take it out.
Bart seemed to take his gesture as an invitation to violence anyway. “Out of respect for the long time we served together, I will give you a dignified death through a fight one on one” he said while showing off his own blade.
Castiel dodged his first attack well so his enemy just stabbed the air. On the second attempt, Bart managed to slash a part of his coat, but Castiel was in position to retaliate so he used his fist to hit his attacker in the solar plexus. The move made Bart lose his balance for a moment and Castiel used the opportunity to grab his arm and twist it, making him drop the angel blade, after which he immobilized the faction leader to the ground with his knee. Seeing that the others in the room were getting ready for a fight, Castiel took out his own blade and placed it at Bartholomew’s throat.
“You won’t get out of here if you kill me” the angel said with a nervous smirk.
“I’m willing to bet that I will,” Castiel replied and slightly pressed the blade on his neck. He didn’t actually want to kill him nor his subordinates, but he knew he had to scare them a little. “There is a way for both of us to walk out of here” he continued.
Castiel slowly told him the two clear conditions he had only thought of during the past minutes: to stop attacking the Penitents and to grant safe passage out of there for both Elijah and him.”
Bartholomew didn’t answer right away, so Castiel pressed the blade down on his throat again until he saw a flash of panic in the defeated angel’s eyes. “Fine! We have a deal!”
Castiel didn’t retreat his blade right away. He spoke to the angel leader in a low voice. “If you break your word, I’ll personally come for you and finish what I started today. Just because I don’t want to fight anymore doesn’t mean that I can’t if I have to.”
Not waiting for an answer this time, he got up, freeing Bart. Castiel saw at a glance that his blade was still clean despite his threatening gestures, which was to his liking. He called Elijah, who was still watching the scene in stunned silence, and the two left the building. The two put some serious distance between them and the dangerous faction before they stopped to talk.
“I’ll tell the others about what you did today for us,” Elijah said.
“I didn’t do anything,” Castiel replied immediately. “I don’t know if Bartholomew will do as I said. You should all still be careful and stay hidden.”
“I know. But you still saved me and tried to make it safer for all of us and I can’t think of another angel who would do this for a group like ours.” Castiel didn’t answer, so Elijah continued. “You can hide with us, I’m sure I can convince the others to...”
“Thank you, but no. I can’t hide, there is still work I have to do.” Castiel hesitated, but he knew that the right thing to do was to offer his help to as many angels as possible. It was the least he could do since his actions were the reason so many of them died and suffered on Earth. If he hadn’t been tricked by Metatron to help him with the spell that made them fall, then a majority of them would have still led a peaceful existence in Heaven. “If you ever end up in danger again, you or the other Penitents, call me and I’ll come.”
After thanking him again and getting his phone number, Elijah finally left him alone. Castiel headed towards the bunker and as soon as he arrived he told Sam everything that happened. Unsurprisingly, his friend did not take it well.
“So you’re stuck in angel politics. Again.” Sam said with a sour expression.
“I couldn’t just stand by after I found out what was happening,” Castiel explained.
“Yeah, I get that. But wouldn't it have been safer to kill him?”
“Probably, but I didn’t… I couldn’t…” He felt like he was on the verge of stuttering. “I didn’t want to kill another angel if I could avoid it. I want to give Bartholomew a chance.”
“Do you think someone like him deserves another chance?”
“I don’t think I can be the judge of that.”
“Then would you also offer Gadreel another chance if we found him? Or Metatron?” Sam asked coldly.
Castiel looked at him with confusion. He didn’t understand how the topic changed so suddenly or why Sam of all people was suggesting killing as the better option. “I will do what must be done. You have to trust me on this.”
“I want to, Cas, but you weren’t here to see how Kevin died. And I… I remember it through my own eyes and with my own hand…” He stopped and Castiel saw that as the right time to try to comfort him.
“It wasn’t your fault at all, Sam. You had no control over what the angel possessing you was doing. It’s only Metatron’s fault.”
“Then how about Gadreel?”
“Gadreel is… also guilty, but not quite as guilty. He is letting himself be fooled by Metatron, just like I was. It is possible that Gadreel thinks he is doing the right thing too.”
Sam frowned and didn’t answer, but at least that meant he wasn’t immediately fighting the idea, so Cas let him think it over.
“I wish there was something more we could do for Kevin” Sam said eventually and Castiel didn’t mind the slight change of topic. “But reviving people is harder than ever now.”
“We freed his mother from Crowley’s demons and gave her all of his possessions.”
“I know, but it doesn't feel like enough. Kevin deserves more than that, something like… revenge.” He grimaced.
“Sam, do you think that revenge can help Kevin in any way?”
“Of course not, I was just saying.”
“Keep that in mind. I need you to not do something stupid when I’m not here. I have witnessed the feeling of grief being behind many bad ideas, revenge being only one of them. I don’t want you to endanger yourself again already.”
“I know, Cas. I just want to be able to do anything useful to anyone right now. I’m not even talking about revenge.”
Castiel was relieved that Sam’s thoughts weren’t heading towards that dark path. “It shouldn’t take longer than a few weeks for you to fully heal if you rest properly” he assured him. “But we can speed it up if you let me heal you again.”
“My answer is still no and you know why.”
Sam’s worried look highlighted that he was thinking about the angel’s well being. Castiel appreciated that and it was true that he needed to use his powers as little as possible at the moment. His own grace had been stolen by Metatron and he was running on stolen grace from an angel who he had to kill in self defense, but that was just a short term solution which was burning him from inside with every use. Even then, Castiel was sure he would heal Sam in a heartbeat if his friend would accept that, not feeling great about leaving him alone in the bunker for so many days and nights, no matter how safe the place was in theory.
“Are you sure you don’t want to call Dean?” he asked.
“I’m sure,” Sam said with a stern look. “He wouldn’t come anyway. He is… probably grieving in his own way.”
Castiel knew that was probably true and that the two of them were still feeling lots of grief and anger on top of being too stubborn to reconnect. He didn’t want to fight anymore, at least not after such a long day, so he didn’t push further, but the situation worried him, especially when it came to Dean. There was no telling what he would end up doing by himself. Sadly, the only human Castiel could help at the moment was the one already in front of him. “I’ll keep Sam safe in your absence” Castiel thought, thinking about Dean. “And I’ll try to keep you safe too by getting to Metatron first.” Such promises kept him motivated more than anything else.
Dean looked at the blade placed by Crowley, his temporary ally against Abaddon, on the motel room table in front of him. The demon wanted him to check if it was the real deal, even though he gave no instructions about the how. The only thing that Dean knew about it was the fact that it was a very ugly weapon, primitive and seemingly not sharp at all, with the most threatening thing about it being the inexplicable aura of evil emanated by it. Dean wasn’t usually thinking that about weapons, but the First Blade was truly something else and definitely not what he expected.
He looked at his right arm, where he now had an equally ugly mark, given to him by Cain himself, the first murderer in human history. He gathered his courage and grabbed the First Blade with the same hand. He immediately felt sudden tingles and the mark burning him, but none of that made him want to drop it. Instead, he had a sudden and overwhelming desire to use the weapon, given probably by the sudden rush of adrenaline.
He looked at Crowley and the demon lifted his shoulders a little, which betrayed his tension. Dean felt pleased seeing the demon’s fear.
“Keep that excitement for facing Abaddon” Crowley said in his usual tone. “Anyway, it seems like it’s the right blade, so as soon as you’re done playing with it I can go and schedule your meeting with that arrogant bitch.”
Dean thought about taking his life right there and then, wanting to feel his filthy demon blood on the blade and on his hands. He got up from his chair, but immediately felt pushed back. He could only watch, incapable to move, while his fingers were forced one by one to let go of the First Blade. After the weapon fell to the ground, Crowley took it back and let out a sigh.
“I’m really trying to play nice this time to make this ordeal a little bit less bothersome, but you just won’t have it, will you?” the demon asked. “You’ve got the Mark for just one week and you seem to have already forgotten what this is about. You might be able to hold the First Blade, but that doesn’t make you immune to what Abaddon can do to you, which is worse than this. She is lacking finesse, but she still has impressive raw power, typical of a Knight of Hell. You need my help to face her, whether you like it or not. You’re still a human.”
Dean was released from the supernatural grasp and, to his surprise, he felt way less annoyed by what just happened than he expected. The impulses from just seconds ago felt far away and only his usual grievance with Crowley remained. He felt tempted to ask what was that and if it all came from the blade, but a demon was the last kind of being he would ever share his feelings with. Either way, he only needed to use the First Blade to gank a few big bad guys and then he could get rid of it, so there was no need to worry.
“I got the idea, you can stop overcompensating now” he said.
Crowley looked like he wanted to roll his eyes, but he somehow resisted the temptation. “I can probably get the bitch where we need it in a few days” he explained instead. “Until then, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but wouldn’t you rather reunite with your brother and angel?”
“No.”
The demon looked at him both surprised and annoyed when no further explanation came. “I’m sorry, what? No?! You’re telling me that the one time I’d want all of you idiots working together you decide to go solo? Are you trying to spite me or just to kill yourself?”
“Tough luck, right?” Dean replied, smirking at the demon. “Crowley, don’t get the wrong idea. I’m here just because this is the only way to stop some bigger bastards than you. But you don’t get to boss me around, especially not when I’m the only one who can use this blade. Remember that if I don’t agree to your plans I can just walk away and good luck finding Cain again. I’d love to see you trying to convince him to transfer the Mark to someone else…”
“Such sharp negotiation skills,” Crowley replied with irony. “However it’s obvious that we could use all the manpower we could get. If memory serves me right, you, Moose and the angel tailing you can form a disgustingly effective team, or at least a very lucky one.”
“I’m not getting Sam and Cas involved in this. And that’s my final answer, so stop talking about it!” Dean wanted his brother involved in such a situation less than anything else in the world.
Crowley let out a sigh. “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, but the dog can pick them up when it feels like it just to screw with your plans. Fine, but don’t expect me to save your skin if you screw up while fighting Abaddon. You are not as irreplaceable as you seem to think and certainly not more important than my life.”
“Don’t worry, I’d never expect a demon to have my back.” Dean noticed that Crowley’s eyebrows twitched while hearing that, so he figured that his ally expected him to budge on his decision. Dean was satisfied with disappointing him like that.
He looked back at the table, which was an uncomfortably painful reminder that Crowley already took back the blade and hid it in his coat.
“Shouldn’t you give me the First Blade now?” Dean asked.
“Oh, I will, but only when it’s necessary and not a second sooner. In case you didn’t pay attention to Cain’s warnings, the Mark can become dangerous even to yourself. I don’t want you to get mad with bloodlust before you even lay eyes on Abaddon, which is precisely what happened just now!”
Dean could see Crowley’s point even though he didn’t want to admit it. He wasn’t really remembering Cain’s warnings, only that there were indeed some, but that didn’t matter much to him.
“Keep your phone close for when I call you” the demon ended the unsatisfying talk.
“If you don’t stop trying to play your goddamn games with me, I swear I’ll…”
“Kill me? You keep saying you’ll do that anyway so not much of a loss for me, I reckon.”
Crowley disappeared before Dean could reply something else, leaving him alone in the room. The hunter had no problem with the loneliness before the demon’s visit, but now he felt a nerve-racking emptiness. He looked again at the mark on his arm, then remembered the sensation of completion he had while holding the blade and felt uneasy. He noticed that Crowley didn’t question him if the blade was the real thing after he grabbed it, so he must have lied about not knowing exactly how Dean could check it. Dean himself didn’t doubt that it was the real thing. There was something very wrong with that weapon and under normal circumstances Dean wouldn’t want to have anything to do with it. It reminded him of how he felt in the Purgatory, but back there killing had no evil weight attached to the act since it was all for survival so it didn’t feel… dirty. “I need to do this,” he reminded himself out loud. The First Blade could kill anything, even bastards like Abaddon, but only when handled by someone with the Mark of Cain.
“I’ll do whatever it takes. For Kevin. For Sam. Abaddon is just the beginning.” He already knew that Crowley would be his second target, there was no doubt about it. If he would survive the encounter, Dean was planning to go after everyone still alive who made his family and friends suffer. And then… then he could maybe return to his brother and look him in the eyes again. He missed him and Cas, but there was no way he could face them yet.
As much as he hated the thing, Dean was determined to not let go of the First Blade once he would get to hold it again, not until Gadreel and Metatron would also be dead. It was the least he could do after everything that happened.