damned_institute | Day 66: Sun Room (Second Shift)

Knowing he'd helped Skulduggery at breakfast helped Gabriel calm down quite a bit. Relatively speaking, at least. The Archangel was still concerned, but at least he felt more in control than he had been. More stable. He could do things, still, things to help, as helpless as he'd felt during Castiel's operation.

That didn't mean that Gabriel was going to pass up the chance when he saw Castiel seated by the bulletin board. Gabe made a bee-line for the younger angel and crouched by him, his face filled with worry as he took Castiel's hand. His brother really didn't look good. His face was lined, his body hunched in on itself--it wasn't the same agony as the night before, but it still made Gabriel's chest clench. "Castiel? How are you feeling?"

Having closed his eyes to try and drown out both the world around him and his pain, the sensation of a hand grasping his own caused Castiel to stiffen. That only made the pain worse, though, and so he relaxed just as quickly as he took in Gabriel's concerned face.

It didn't make sense. This Gabriel was nothing like his own brother, the one who had fled Heaven and spent his time since then posing as a trickster god, tormenting humans and demigods alike with his particular brand of humor. He at least put on airs of not caring about anyone else, whereas this Gabriel practically wore his heart on his sleeve.

After what had happened last night, though, Castiel couldn't blame Gabriel for checking on him. He forced out a sigh, wishing that some of the pain would leave his lungs as well, and yet it did nothing. "It's going to be a difficult healing process. The pain is making it hard to think. But I'll recover eventually."

"Sorry," Gabe whispered in contrition at the look of surprise and wariness that shot across Castiel's face, squeezing the other angel's hand gently. He nodded at that news; it really wasn't surprising that Castiel might take some time to recover. "Can the nurses do nothing for you?"

The Archangel quietly noted the shakiness of that exhale and wasted no time in putting a hand on Castiel's uninjured shoulder to gift the other angel some of his recently-recovered stability. The sense of calm, of determination, the assurance that things could be changed. It wasn't much, it wouldn't take away the pain by any means, but maybe it would help Castiel find the opportunity to gather his thoughts. "What about your illness? Has that gone?"

For a moment Castiel only stared down at their hands, his own enveloped in Gabriel's. This wasn't something he'd experienced before. A hand offered to help someone up when they fell, or to carry them when they were weak -- that he could understand. But the way Gabriel was squeezing his hand was clearly meant to offer some sort of comfort. It was the first time someone had tried such a thing with him.

He didn't know if it made him feel any better, but it was interesting nonetheless.

What affected him more was when Gabriel placed a hand on his shoulder and Castiel felt a wave of strength run through him, as if Gabriel had siphoned some of his power into him. But there was more to it than that, as he suddenly felt with greater certainty that he could work past this. Not that he had ever truly doubted himself.

"They've given me some medication to help with the pain, but it only does so much," he explained after a pause, his voice coming out a bit stronger now. "And you can see for yourself," he said as he lifted his hand, the one with the rash. The redness was starting to fade already, though Gabriel might not realize that unless he'd paid it attention the night before.

Gabe had seen it, all right, and seeing it again now--receding--made a smile of pure relief break across the Archangel's face. "That's wonderful!" The Archangel laughed for joy and then grinned at Castiel, his eyes shining. Castiel was cured. He wouldn't have to face becoming a monster.

And not just that. Castiel wasn't the only one who was sick.

"Have you told anyone else?" he asked. "The means isn't exactly easy, but others might have a better method for the rest of those ill, and someone might have more information on the device."

Maybe it was good that Gabriel could be so thrilled at his recovery, since Castiel certainly didn't have the energy or the will to be happy for himself. He was relieved, of course, that his plan had worked, and that he wouldn't have to sit by helplessly as his vessel was contorted into something bloodthirsty and out of control. But at the moment, he just felt too terrible to feel more than that.

At the question, he shook his head, but immediately regretted it. He had to remind himself to move as little as possible, because it seemed that for now, even the slightest thing set off another wave of pain somewhere.

"I can't communicate over the bulletin very well at the moment. A nurse would have to write for me, and she'd likely question the content of my message." It was true that they should get the word out somehow, though, and Castiel wondered if Gabriel would offer to pass the news along on his behalf. Since this version of the archangel seemed constantly eager to help, Castiel wouldn't be surprised.

"If we do inform others, though, we should make it clear that both a healer and someone who is at least somewhat familiar with human anatomy are required." Castiel was an angel; of course he'd survived the process. Someone weaker might not be as lucky, and he didn't want to be responsible for someone's accidental death.

Castiel certainly wasn't wrong. "I can put something up for you, if you like," Gabriel offered at once. "It's already been discussed a bit, and from the looks of things Skulduggery has put up a sketch I gave him of the device, but I can do something more concrete."

Then again, maybe it was a good thing that the information was interspersed amongst all the other notes--it was less likely the nurses would bother to read them and start taking them down. Especially if Rachel saw what he was writing.

Actually, that made him wonder, and Gabriel's brow furrowed. "What are the nurses saying happened? Surely they don't believe the truth, given how the act during the day."

If a sketch had already been put up and it was under discussion, then that was likely enough. It was up to Gabriel if he wanted to go further with it, and Castiel only shrugged in response. Better not to waste words, and he was certain the other angel could exert his own judgment in this situation. He didn't know who Skulduggery was, but it hardly seemed to matter.

As for the nurses, that was another story. They'd acted completely oblivious, so maybe they had decided to turn a blind eye to everything that the patients were discussing. At least that was one point in their favor.

"In regards to this," Castiel said as he waved his hand over his abdominal area, "they implied that it was the product of self-mutilation, or a suicide attempt." Which was ridiculous. Castiel had enough things trying to kill him without having to add his own hand to it.

For a moment Gabriel was unsure as to the meaning of that vague answer, or lack of answer. Did that mean Castiel did or didn't want it? Or did he just not care? After a moment Gabriel decided that there was no point in drawing attention to the proceedings by posting something directly, when people had already noticed details.

"Oh." Gabriel looked a bit sick, but the fact that Castiel obviously viewed it as a ridiculous assumption helped. Not that it was true, obviously, but just ... the thought of it was chilling. "Is there anything you need for tonight?" he asked. "You should probably rest, but if you'd like some company I can come by."

Tonight. Castiel's mind had been too clouded to even give it much thought, and prideful as he was, he couldn't imagine that he would be capable of much. Now that the threat of the illness was gone, he could take at least a small breather. He knew there were still things he needed to deal with -- Sam and Dean's brainwashing, his own imprisonment, the Apocalypse -- but that had all been put on hold.

"No, it's..." He paused and shook his head, but then had to brace it against his hand when he got dizzy. "It's fine. You shouldn't waste your time tending to me. If nothing else, I'll rest." What else could he do? Even if someone agreed to take him along, he'd be useless, a hindrance, and that was the last thing he wanted. "You'd be better off trying to accomplish something."

"It wouldn't be a waste of time at all," Gabriel reassured him. "There's no need to be alone--unless you'd prefer it that way." The last wasn't added as if in afterthought, or even anxiously, but merely as an amendment to make sure Castiel knew that Gabriel wouldn't force his presence on the other angel if Castiel didn't actually want it.

He smiled. "I'd consider keeping you company an accomplishment worth doing, anyway." Why not? A brother from another universe, perhaps, but a brother nonetheless, and why should Gabriel begrudge him any company at all?

Castiel wished that he could assume Gabriel was being insincere. Angels simply didn't act like this, offering help without question. It was as if Gabriel felt an obligation to him simply because they were both angels, but that wasn't a logic that Castiel's own family would have used. He couldn't say he felt close to Gabriel. For the most part, the other angel just confused him.

Castiel squinted over at Gabriel. "I don't understand you," he admitted. It didn't answer the question of whether he'd like him to come see him tonight or not, but he'd rather avoid that entirely. He didn't need to be looked after like a sick human. "We barely know each other, yet you act like we're the closest of kin, simply because we share something in common." His own siblings treated him like a stranger or a nuisance more often than not -- either that, or they wanted him dead. This compassion and concern was completely foreign.

Of course angels did. Angels were family, they were helpers, they were guiders even to their own. There had never been a faithful angel who wouldn't offer aid to a sibling if they needed it--even if unasked for! And of course they would always ask. What fear was there in that, when each of them knew their brothers and sisters would be there?

Which made Castiel's statement a surprise enough to cause Gabriel to rock back. For a moment the Archangel didn't answer, but only because he was too busy trying to rein that startle and study Castiel at once. "You're my brother, Castiel," he answered as if it was the simplest answer in the world, even confused as it was. "From another universe, perhaps, but that doesn't matter. You're family. Of course I'm not going to leave you to endure your sufferings alone."

Now more than ever, Gabe wasn't going to. He had been alone, been alone when he shouldn't have been, when he'd mistakenly believed Michael would reject him. He'd been so very wrong. The Archangel was determined not to do the same to a sibling, especially a younger sibling, regardless of the circumstance.

As puzzled as Castiel was by Gabriel's attitude, it seemed to be the same when the tables were turned. Neither of them could understand the other, and it was quickly becoming apparent how different their lives must be.

This conversation would have been better saved for a time when Castiel wasn't trying to trudge through a painful haze to get every sentence out, but now that he'd picked this topic, he didn't want to drop it. Because part of him was curious about this other universe where it was simply assumed that angels would take care of each other.

"Your version of Heaven must differ greatly from mine," he said eventually. His stomach churned with both pain and nausea, and Castiel took a few deep breaths to try and dispel it.

"Home is Home," Gabriel said with a smile and a chuckle. "How different can they be?"

Then what he'd just said, where he was, who he was talking to, all hit him at once and his smile dropped. Differ greatly. The way Castiel spoke, it was as if the angels he knew weren't family at all--as if they wouldn't help each other, wouldn't bother. How could that be?

The Archangel opened his mouth to ask, shut it, and opened it again. "Why do you say that?"

Very different, was the answer. And Castiel might have answered dryly if he'd had the energy. There was a time when he'd taken it all as normal, when he'd assumed that the way his family behaved was simply how it had to be, but the fact was that there had been a point, before Lucifer's Fall, when things had been much more peaceful. When there had been a closeness between the Host that hadn't felt strained. When killing each other hadn't been normal.

"Because my relationship with my own siblings has become... contentious," he said with a weary sigh. "Things haven't been right in Heaven ever since Lucifer Fell." Of course, he'd convinced himself that everything was fine, that their Father was still enacting his will, but it had all been a sham.

And now, if he encountered one of his siblings, they'd be more likely to attack him than help him.

For several long moments Gabriel didn't know how to answer that. He sat there frowning, emotions flickering across his face as easily as an ocean's tides. Consternation. Uncertainty. Confusion. Apprehension. Dread. Curiosity.

"Lucifer's Fall changed a lot," he agreed cautiously. "And of course those kinds of wounds can't really heal completely. But I don't--why is the relationship between you and your siblings, uh, tense?"

He had to fumble a little. He was searching in the dark, here; it had never occurred to him before now that Castiel, even from another dimension, might have Fallen. Even as the thought occurred now, he didn't really withdraw. Castiel hadn't, especially when interacting with others, given him reason to believe he might be a demon, even though Gabriel couldn't sense these things properly. Maybe he was more like one of Gabe's siblings who'd chosen to become mortal, in which case he was Fallen but not a demon.

How was he to explain such a thing, and while in such a state? It was Castiel's fault that they'd gone this far with the conversation in the first place, but now he almost wished he could shut it down. Explaining the mess that was his family was difficult enough when he was well. Trying to do it after amateur surgery seemed impossible.

But Gabriel was watching him with curious, concerned eyes, and Castiel let out a shaky sigh as he tried to find the energy to speak.

"... I continued to work as a soldier. To follow orders. I thought we were trying to save the world, but in truth, my superiors wanted the Apocalypse just as much as Hell did." And it had only become more complicated since then. Michael, Lucifer, and their grudge match that seemed like it would never end... How were they to stop it? And why did his siblings not have the strength to help?

Of course, he knew why. Because realizing one's own free will was not such a simple task. He was paying for that decision, even now.

"I thought we were trying to save the world, but in truth, my superiors wanted the Apocalypse just as much as Hell did."

Castiel's words swirled in Gabriel's head and abruptly the Archangel sat down right where he was. His head was shaking from side-to-side, but he was hardly aware of it; he felt strange. Light-headed, his heart racing, and Castiel's voice never ending in his mind.

"I thought we were trying to save the world, but in truth, my superiors wanted the Apocalypse just as much as Hell did."

"No," Gabriel said, and his voice came out hoarse. "No, I can't--that can't be true. Michael would never be so presumptuous and deceitful as ... as that. Against our Lord?" Never. Not ever. Castiel was lying, or mistaken, or something. Not in any reality would Michael have Fallen.

It was painful to watch Gabriel's reaction, because Castiel knew exactly how it felt. He knew what it was like to have everything you knew yanked away from you in one fell swoop. He knew how it was disorienting and frightening, how you wanted to fight against it or run away from it.

In the end, he'd faced it head on, but that had only been with Dean's help. He knew that.

"Michael did his best to try and convince a human friend of mine to become his vessel so that he could wage war with Lucifer and take down the whole world in the process," he said flatly. There was no love lost between him and Michael at this point, and the memory of Dean almost giving himself up to the archangel still stung.

Castiel leveled his gaze on this other Gabriel, his jaw tightened. "Perhaps everything is all well and good in your world, but it's not in mine." He'd already been forced to take down some of his siblings, and he couldn't even claim to regret it.

Gabriel was still shaking his head, because this ... this was impossible. Michael, Fallen. In any reality. Gabriel couldn't conceive of it--not just because he didn't want to, but because there was no room in his mindset for such an idea.

No. No, it couldn't be possible.

Some of Castiel's words filtered in. Minor, compared to the accusation, but they were all Gabriel could latch onto. "Become his vessel?" he repeated incredulously. That sounded as if the angels in Castiel's world took over human bodies. Why would they need to do that? What use could that possibly have? "What--does that entail? Why would he want to do that? What could he possibly have been thinking to--"

The Archangel checked himself and looked away, biting his lip as if the pain would help him centre himself. When he looked back, there were tears in his eyes. Because if it was true, if the Michael in Castiel's world had Fallen, Gabe knew their Master wouldn't have stopped him. Not directly. What he didn't understand was how Michael could choose to go so directly against their Master when, if he was uncertain, all he had to do was ask.

"Why didn't he talk to our Lord?" he asked--almost pleaded. "If he was so in conflict, why didn't he ask for help?"

It seemed that the more that Castiel said, the more upset Gabriel became. It might be for the best if they ended this conversation before it got any worse, especially since he was feeling downright horrible and talking about this wasn't going to change that. In fact, it would just make it worse, for a multitude of reasons.

Gabriel fired off questions, full of confusion. It seemed that their worlds were as different as they could be, even though they were both angels, and even though Castiel knew a Gabriel of his own.

The tears were what truly threw him, though. Before he could say anything else, he saw that, and it set him rigid in place. Because there was something so fundamentally wrong about an angel crying. They were supposed to be like stone, unmoved and unfeeling. Castiel knew that wasn't always the case, but he'd led it happen; he'd fallen further than any angel ever planned to.

And yet, tears were something he could never imagine being capable of. He never wanted to cry.

It was the final question that drove him to a kind of breaking point. Castiel clenched his jaw and shook his head. "Because He wouldn't answer, of course. When Father stopped giving us revelation, stopped speaking even to the archangels, they took matters into their own hands. They had no other choice." But even so, Michael had made the wrong one.

"I--" Gabriel stopped short with an in-drawn breath, his eyes slightly wide with realisation and one hand coming up. "Revelation," he murmured with a sort of wondering detachment, rippling with too many emotions to immediately pinpoint.

When Father stopped giving revelation. Stopped speaking even to the Archangels.

Like his own Master had. Like He'd almost had to, before the angels even considered they might have the right and capacity to choose their own paths. Even though they chose still to serve, it was in their own manner and because they truly wanted to. Gabriel had no idea in what manner his Master had created Castiel's universe, but having experienced that intent himself, it was quite obvious to him now what that intent was.

He refocussed and looked Castiel full in the face, and the look in his eyes was as weighty and considering as an Archangel's ought to be.

"They had a choice," he corrected simply. "He wanted them to choose. I know, because He did the same to us." His face flickered with a here-and-gone smile, brief as a butterfly's kiss. "There's a difference between support and reliance. If Michael depended too much upon one and not the other, perhaps our Lord felt it better He not answer. But He would have been there. He promised me, all of us, that He abandons no one who does not wish to be abandoned."

Even when it seemed like it. Even when they were so turned inward they could see nothing else, as Michael must have been. As Castiel looked to be, right now. Gabriel's hand fell and hovered over Castiel's knee, and for a moment he was tempted to read his brother's emotion, to feel where he was. Then he wondered what would be the point? The set of the younger angel's jaw, the look in his eyes, the bitterness in his tone--it said enough.

"You must have all suffered awfully," he murmured without breaking his gaze, but not in a way that was sympathetic without understanding. It was very understanding--the sort that came from experience. He knew that, too--because he had almost Fallen in the course of self-discovery.

Castiel looked up when Gabriel countered his statements, trying to present it in a different light. That their Father had been looking out for them, in His own way. Isn't that what Castiel had always wanted to believe? That God worked in mysterious ways, and that it all had to be for a reason? He'd clung so tight to that belief, but it had only burned him in the end.

In a way, Castiel felt it would be worse if their Father was still around after all, as it would mean that He had observed everything that had happened, the way his children had torn each other apart, and he'd done nothing. If that didn't count as abandonment, then Castiel didn't know the meaning of the word.

At this point, Castiel didn't want to look Gabriel back in the eye, not when Gabriel believed that he knew how this all worked when he hadn't been there, had no clue of what kind of suffering had been involved. Maybe he could imagine it, but Castiel refused to believe their situations were the same.

"...There's been fighting. Too much of it." Castiel finally broke eye contact, staring down at his clammy hands. "But Joshua himself admitted that our Father is gone. I see no reason why he would lie." Of course, every angel wanted to hope for another answer, something that made more sense, but the cold hard truth was something Castiel had decided to accept, once and for all. This other Gabriel wasn't about to change his mind on that.

"There's always fighting," Gabriel said simply, but it was an agreement more than a censure. He followed Castiel's gaze to his hands and then reached out to take them, turning them over and clasping them gently but firmly. "That's the nature of free will. To enforce anything upon existence, at any level, undermines it for the rest. One can't pick and choose without casting aspersions on that which is chosen."

Joshua. Gabriel knew Joshua, of course, but he couldn't be sure Castiel was speaking of the same one. The one Gabe knew was human, responsible and dedicated but with a quiet, irrepressible sense of humour. (He was captain of one of the Heavenly water-sport teams. No one said the never-ending party in Heaven couldn't sometimes be a pool-party.)

For a moment Gabriel looked contemplatively across the room, thinking. "He may not have lied," he said finally. "But he may have been mistaken, or his words may have been misinterpreted." Gabe looked back at Castiel with a gently understanding smile, slightly twisted with ruefulness. "I know when our Master did the same to us, we ... had a great deal of trouble figuring out what He really wanted. We assumed things that were wrong. We couldn't conceive of some things that were right. I--" He stopped and his eyes flickered vaguely with discomfiture and a faint surprise.

His gut had suddenly tightened. He hadn't been expecting that. "I almost Fell," he finished quietly, "because I couldn't figure out what He wanted. He doesn't make it easy, sometimes. I think that's on purpose. Our freedom of will has been fairly earned. I don't see why yours wouldn't have to be too."

Day 66: Sun Room (Second Shift)

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