janie_tangerine | fic, Supernatural: Brother, My Cup Is Empty (Castiel, Gabriel), PG, for <lj site="livejournal.com" u

Title: Brother, My Cup Is Empty
Rating: PG
Characters: Castiel, Gabriel
Words: 1500
Warnings: angst. Angst. Angst.
Summary: while recovering, Castiel receives a visit.
Spoilers: heavy for 5x19. And for 5x18.
Disclaimer: SPN is not mine, not really. Wouldn't be here otherwise, duh.
A/N: [highlight for possible spoilers] Basically, after 5x19 ended, I felt robbed that we didn't have a scene with Gabriel and Castiel before THAT thing happened and so I wrote this during class because it clearly beats it. Using for

sacred_20 #9, blessing. Title from Nick Cave.

This, Castiel thinks, is the most miserable he has been in his entire existence. Second maybe to that time they forced him back to Heaven, but you’ll admit that if you once were a proper angel of the Lord, lying on a cot in Bobby Singer’s panic room with blood bathing the bandages around your chest (and you managed to transport there with what’s almost the last of your grace) isn’t really your finest moment. It hurts, a lot, and he’s thinking that maybe he should have told Bobby to call Sam and Dean instead of telling him not to contact them for now since he would surely get better quickly and there was no point in worrying them even more after what had happened already.

Seems like he was asking too much of himself. Maybe.

Though at least, Dean didn’t say yes. That’s a good result. Except that now he thinks he should have never spoken to him like that outside the warehouse, and…

Suddenly he hears a rustle of wings and he turns on the other side at once; he’d recognize that presence anywhere, except that moving harshly when he’s wounded like this?

It hurts.

And most important, what would Gabriel want to do with him?

“Geez, bro, that’s what one should show people when defining looking like shit,” Gabriel says, but it doesn’t sound mocking or menacing or hostile. He actually looks the closest to concerned Castiel has seen him, and the tone is maybe just lightly amused, but not that much.

“And those two don’t even know you’re here, do they?”

“No,” Castiel answers, surprised that Gabriel would ever ask. Why is he interested now? He didn’t care before, did he?

“Yeah, yeah, sounds just like you, not warning anyone. Self-sacrifice, stubbornness, blind faith, whatever, totally fitting the description. You know, I wish I could mock you for that.”

“What do you mean, Gabriel? Haven’t you done that already? If you need to tell me that our Father doesn’t care and that there’s no other hope, I already know. And I still stand by my decision. And my side,” he adds, because there’s no question about whose side he’s on, here. He doesn’t regret anything, even if he could have died twice.

“I know that, Castiel. I said I wish I could, but I can’t. Actually, I shouldn’t have… done that already, as you said. You didn’t really deserve ending up in that episode of Band Of Brothers. Damn good show, though.”

There’s something wrong, Castiel thinks, and then before he can ask, Gabriel’s hand presses against his chest and there’s barely a tingle before the blood disappears and the bandages fall off to reveal perfectly flawless skin.

Gabriel speaks before Castiel can react.

“Take that as an apology. Though don’t really expect me to say it properly, that’s not my style.”

“Gabriel, what’s going on? This isn’t normal. This…”

Gabriel actually chuckles and sits down on the cot next to him.

“Always the observant one, aren’t you? Well, team we-don’t-want-to-be-vessels is in a situation with our other brother. The one who shouldn’t be upstairs.”

“Lucifer?” Castiel whispers, horrified; he tries to stand up at once, reaching for his shirt, but as he does, Gabriel yanks on his wrists and forces him to sit back down. Castiel would really like to know how can he be so nonchalant about this.

“Don’t be even more suicidal than usual, you’re in no shape to face anyone. Least of all Lucifer. And tell me something… how many of them did you kill?”

Castiel would feel outraged if Gabriel’s voice wasn’t, for a change, softer; he’s sure he knows what Gabriel means, and he can’t help the pang of guilt he feels as he thinks of the brothers and sisters he killed in the last three days. He doesn’t regret it, because that would mean regretting his choices, but it still hurts.

“Seven,” he whispers, not even trying to deny it.

He really isn’t expecting it, when a hand reaches his head and actually ruffles through his hair. For the two seconds it lasts, it feels almost soothing.

“Your friend Dean really has business telling us to kill our brothers for everyone’s own good when he won’t even consider killing his own, hasn’t he? Sadly, for once he’s right.” Gabriel says, standing up again.

“What…”

“He asked me to before when I offered to just get them out of that trap they’re in. I said no at first, but… I’ll help them. They’re right, and you’re right. Those flawed little humans are quite worth it in the end, aren’t they? I owe them if only for all the fun they gave me. Also, kudos to you for realizing it before everyone else.”

And suddenly, Castiel understands. He stands up at once, even if he’s barely able to keep himself up.

“Are you saying goodbye?” he asks, knowing the answer already, and Gabriel chuckles again as he shakes his head in apparent disbelief.

“Can’t hide anything from you, huh? Well, illusions might be my style but I’ll admit that you don’t deserve one. And I’m not expecting to survive that. It’s Lucifer, come on. There’s a reason he’s public enemy number one.”

“You can’t go alone against…”

“Brother, shut the fuck up. You died once, or well, duh, once and a half I guess. Don’t you think it’s time you stop always stealing the scene? And what would you do anyway? Someone here is short on grace, I think, and that’s not me.”

Castiel thinks he can feel his cheeks burning with shame as he looks at the ground. It’s just the truth, and in comparison to how bright Gabriel’s grace is shining? His own is nothing more than a flickering match.

“Oh, come on, lighten up. And let me give you a gift, if you’re getting your wings so riled up.”

And then a palm slams on his forehead and Castiel is burning, his whole body is on fire as light erupts from Gabriel’s hand; but it doesn’t feel painful at all. Rather, it feels like a part of himself that has been missing for too much time is coming back, and it feels warm and comforting and like home, almost; and then he takes a long, deep breath as soon as Gabriel takes his hand away.

Suddenly, he feels time again. It was one of the last abilities to go, but there was a reason he started glancing at his phone for something other than messages or missed calls.

“Gabriel, did you…”

“… just give your Grace a nice boost? Yeah, not exactly that hard. You’ll still lose that, it’s not like you can recharge or anything, but hey. Means that instead of ending up toast next time you meet anyone from the family, you have actually one chance of surviving that. Don’t say I never did anything for you, Cas.”

Castiel suddenly feels his eyes stinging, and he can’t bear the idea of losing his brother just as it seems like he finally found him again, despite what went on between them, but Gabriel shakes his head and raises his hands as he looks straight at him.

“Hey, as I said already, fucking lighten up! I’m not going with many regrets, so don’t do that in my place. If it goes as I think, just make sure those two morons kick destiny in the ass for me, too. And if it doesn’t, hell, I’ll buy you a drink. As long as it isn’t too late. That good?”

“It… it isn’t,” Castiel chokes out. “And yes. It’s good,” he manages, suspecting that he will have that drink alone.

And then Gabriel reaches out as Castiel falls sitting on the bed again, his hand ruffling Castiel’s hair in the wrong direction again, before taking it away and putting his hands in his pockets.

“Great. Then I’ll get going, before those two get themselves killed again. And I know that I really don’t have titles to say anything, with being a runaway and a pagan god in disguise and not having been that nice to you before, but… if I were the old man, I’d be proud of you. Just so you know that. Hasta la vista, or let’s hope at least,” he says, his tone still pretending not to be serious, and then he’s gone.

Castiel stands still on the bed, his hands shaking; he hasn’t had his grace at full capacity in such a long time that he had forgotten how it actually felt like.

He could almost weep just for that.

A short while later, a glass full of what Castiel can safely recognize as bourbon (drinking a liquor store makes you learn a lot) appears on the floor next to the cot. And then he feels a pang in his grace, as strong as it was when he could still feel other angels die, and he knows why the glass appeared.

He didn’t cry when he found out that God was really not interested, even if he had come close; but this feels a thousand times worse, and he doesn’t try to stop the first tear from falling down. (Not even the second or the third, for that matter.)

Later, a lot later, he stands up, runs the sleeve of his coat over his eyes, takes the glass, drinks it in one shot and steps out of the panic room.

He has work to do.

End.

Current Mood: tired
Current Music: nothing. yeah, yeah, weeeird.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

bold-seer.livejournal.com

You didn’t really deserve ending up in that episode of Band Of Brothers.

I LOVE YOU. And I can see what you did there, although I can't remember at all what part he played.

Anyway, I thought that it was a little sad that they didn't give us any more scenes with Castiel and Gabriel, so this was very fitting indeed. Nicely done.

From:

and your memory cannot keep me warm but it never leaves me cold

fic, Supernatural: Brother, My Cup Is Empty (Castiel, Gabriel), PG, for <lj site="livejournal.com" u

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