Chapter Text
Gabriel knew it was time to go.
The last Days of Mourning were past, the Heavenly Host was back in place and Castiel had finally learned to fly. Heaven was peaceful again, if quieter than before. If he was going to go, it had to be now.
Gabriel sighed. He wanted to stay, more than anything, but he couldn’t take it anymore. The memory of Lucifer’s angry, terrified, broken eyes as he fell, Michael’s sword lodged in his wing…the angels who’d chosen to fight beside him exploding into white light as the faithful smote them…Metatron’s smug face when the realization that his Father was actually gone for good hit Gabriel…
No. If this is what it meant to be an angel, he was done. Screw Heaven.
There was just one last thing he had to do.
Checking for Michael—he was on the other side of Heaven, excellent—he strolled casually to the Hall of Records. He just wanted one last peek at the Vessels.
He already hated them, the Righteous Man and the Boy King. Gabriel didn’t mind humans; they seemed like interesting creatures so far. But they had taken his brother away from him, devastated Heaven, and then 2,000 years from now these two were going to make it all happen again. Gabriel figured he was allowed to hate them and give the rest of humanity a pass.
The only glimpse he’d gotten was at Michael’s side, and Michael had refused to let Gabriel see them clearly. “Why are you so interested, brother?” he’d asked. “Neither of them are yours.”
Selfish bastard.
Now he was alone as he stared at the Pool. He could take one quick look, memorize their faces, and then be free to run as far away as he could from them, for as long as he could.
It was easy to call up an image. There they were, two bright souls. Brothers, motherless from their youth, fatherless in adulthood. Gabriel felt a bit of a twinge at that, but he ignored it. Of course there were parallels. That was the point.
Concentrating, he let the souls cloak themselves in mortal flesh. He was surprised by their looks. Lucifer’s vessel…Sam…was much taller than his older brother. Shaggy haired and strong, he had surprisingly gentle features. Dean, Michael’s vessel, had much sharper features, but there was still something in his green eyes that spoke of a heart, some softness, especially when he was looking at his brother.
Lucifer and Michael were going to tear these kids apart.
Gabriel shook his head. Unimportant.
Now that he was looking at them, he wondered who they were. What did they do in their day to day lives, what was it like for them in the 21st century, when they would break the Seals?
The answers came the moment he asked. Sam and Dean were hunters: they went after all the monsters Dad had left out of Purgatory, laying ghosts to rest and chopping every monster they came across to pieces. Gabriel watched as their lives whizzed by—not in detail, he wasn’t that invested (wasn’t invested at all, thank you very much)—growing more concerned by the moment. These two had only ever had each other to depend upon. Their dad was a deadbeat; he was chasing revenge for a dead woman, beating his head against a wall of misinformation and destiny, letting his sons grow up without him. They had some family; a drunk old man, a bitter woman and her rebellious daughter were the most prominent, but they didn’t trust them the same way they did each other.
These kids were not going to kill each other.
They just weren’t.
Gabriel growled. Yes, they were. They had to. If not the Apocalypse would keep getting delayed. He could handle a couple thousand years waiting for these two to be born so one of his brothers would finally die, but he wasn’t going to wait any longer than he had to.
Maybe he could send them some kind of sign? An angelic one? That should scare them enough, right?
Unless…
Why would they be intimidated by an angel? These boys were well-versed in the supernatural, better than most humans. They were unintimidated by authority, used to staring down danger, and they didn’t seem particularly devout.
There was only one way to find out for sure. Gabriel closed his eyes and listened, searching for some mention of angels. He skipped their childhoods; he needed to warn them in adulthood, after their father died and they learned to trust their own decisions.
He found them in an ugly motel room, in some nameless little town. Gabriel leaned forward and listened carefully.
The brothers were arguing. Apparently Sam believed that the monster they were hunting was in fact an angel. Dean was of the opinion that angels were about “as real as unicorns”, and they were legends that “you file under bull crap”[1], despite his brother’s protests.
Two thoughts immediately came to mind.
The first was Gabriel the Archangel’s. That boy is going to learn some respect the hard way when Michael makes him his vessel.
The second was an entirely different perspective, one that Gabriel was finding more and more familiar, more and more interesting as he prepared to leave Heaven behind.
So you don’t believe in angels, do you Dean Winchester? Wouldn’t it be a shame if you…fell in love with one.
That was utterly ridiculous. Archangels weren’t Cupids, for Dad’s sake, they were weapons. Dean Winchester was a Vessel in waiting to him, nothing more.
But… Dean was also a man who hated himself as much as he loved his brother, who set impossible standards for himself and never believed he accomplished anything, who loved pie, his car and women…but also men. Maybe even more so than women. But he couldn’t have the former, because that was wrong. It had to be; didn’t his Dad always say so? And even if he could, he didn’t deserve to have them, because he didn’t deserve to be happy.
He was practically screaming to be proven wrong. He deserved to be proven wrong, too.
Gabriel decided two things. One, he was definitely going to explore this new view on justice when he got to earth. Two, he needed to look into the vessel family trees for the Days Garrison. One of them would rescue the Righteous Man, and what better candidate for Dean’s angel lover?
Gabriel flew over to the scrolls, skimming the lines, considering. It had to be a man, that’s for sure—so a male vessel. A few of them had potential males at the time set for the Apocalypse, and Gabriel went through them. Uriel (HELL NO), Inias (nice kid but no), Balthazar (not quite right)…
Castiel.
Castiel, the fledgling he’d raised since birth. Curious, questioning, faithful Castiel. Terrifying when angry, willing to please, devout and kind.
Perfect.
Now there was one last thing he had to do.
Gabriel flew to Michael’s presence, poking his head around the door. This Heaven was a library, and Michael was sitting at a desk, engrossed in a scroll. Gabriel felt a quick twinge deep in his Grace; he wouldn’t be seeing Michael again for a long time. Maybe never.
Michael looked up. “What do you want, Gabriel?”
Gabriel shrugged. “Not much. Just a quick input on the whole Apocalypse thing.”
Michael sighed, wings arching in agitation. “Can we discuss this later?”
“Just one quick thing, and I’m gone,” Gabriel promised.
Michael inclined his head. “Speak then, brother.”
Gabriel winced. “You said you hadn’t decided on which angel to send after the Righteous Man, right?”
“I have not. It must be the Days Garrison, of course, but the angel is uncertain.”
“Of course.” Gabriel refrained from displaying his annoyance—he was fairly certain his Father had picked the 'proper' Garrison out of a hat. “Why not send Castiel?”
“Castiel? Your little protégé?” Michael’s wings curved in amusement. “He has just learned to fly, and you already want to send him to Hell?”
“I think he’d be best of them,” Gabriel answered, wings rustling as he thought of Cas flying through Hell with fledgling wings. But no, Cas would be a strong warrior by then, powerful enough to save the Righteous Man and then sweep him off his feet.
Michael’s wings flattened. “As you wish. Will you tell him yourself?”
“You can tell him,” Gabriel said. “It’ll mean more coming from you.”
Michael looked at him carefully. “Are you alright, Gabriel?”
“I’m fine,” Gabriel lied. “I just have a lot on my mind.”
Michael seemed satisfied. “Get some rest, and you will feel more secure. I will send Castiel to you in the morning; you can intensify his training in preparation for his mission.”
Gabriel didn’t answer, merely bowed and left his brother. He looked down at the Earth, far below the shining clouds of Heaven.
It was time to go. His work here was done.
[1] Quotes from S2EP13, Houses of the Holy.