Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Castiel was frozen to the spot.

This was not what he had been trying to do, he was trying to save everyone, to help, to make things better, to close the gates for the greater good. He had not been trying to cause his entire family to fall from grace. It was horrifying to think, let alone watch, because he knew, he knew, it was his fault, and there as nothing he could do to stop it, or help them.

He was useless.

…

His wings are burning.

Everything hurt, there was so much screaming, as his brothers and sisters fell alongside him.

He was going to die.

…

Metatron chuckled to himself as the other angels fell. As their surprised terrified screams shook the Heavens. He made his way doen the golden-white street, coming to stop outside of a small building, ancient in its appearance, Greek in style. Pearly silver pillars holding flowing white coverings that danced in the breeze.

Opening the small golden gate, the scribe steps inside, walking along the small stone path that lead up into the enclosure.

It was empty.

Nobody was there.

This was bad.

Very, very bad.

…

Castiel saw the streaking light of an angel falling closer and closer to his location, he shut his eyes, waiting for the impacting boom that would fill the area as soon as they landed, he saw the blinding light, even behind his eyelids, around the impact radius, but there was no sound.

All was surprisingly silent.

His feet began to work as he ran for the crater that had been created, who ever had made impact had landed within a small lake, flames bobbing with the ripples in the water, burning the surrounding plants. There was nothing in the water, not for a very long moment, and then tiny waves ruppled over the surface. He waded out, not caring about soaking his clothing or shoes, he knew there was a sibling floating on the water that was hopefully, and Father willing, still alive.

Golden curls stuck to his pale face, the tips of which were singed, burns littered his skin, covering unknown markings. Castiel gathered the small body close to him, it was hard to tell who is was in the poor lighting of the ever darkening evening, but the features seemed very familiar to him.

It was like, deep within his mind, he knew who this was.

He just couldn’t place the name.

The Seraph carries the limp form around towards the lakes edge and back onto dry land. Castiel frowned at the breath he could see coming from his younger brother’s mouth, while he was happy he was breathing, he did not like the fact that it was condensing in front of him. Although it probably wouldn’t help him too much, Castiel shed out of his wet coat, and wrapped it around the small form he carried in his arms.

Looking around for any sign of life, finding nothing but an empty length of road, he sighs, and turned to make his way down the stretch of endless asphalt.

…

“Cas, where the hell—”

Dean’s exclamation cut off short, causing Sam to look up from the book he’d been reading at the library table, Castiel looked from his two friends, down to his younger brother, and back up to his two friends. Deciding his priorities lied elsewhere, he ignored their inquiries, walking passed the older hunter, making to lay his kid brother on the table, Sam cleared away the contents quickly so he could.

“I need….I need some towels, bandages, and something dry to put him in.”

The brothers exchange looks, but Sam nods, leaving them to retrieve the items requested.

“Cas,” Dean approaches him, eyeing the kid laying on the table, as though sizing him up if he appeared to stand any sort of threat to them. “Who the hell is this kid?”

In the light, it was easier to see him then it had been in the lake, where he had been found. He looked to be around thirteen or fourteen. They were looking at a youngling, he’d caused a youngling to fall from grace, he’d caused so much damage.

Dean helped him silently pull the gray tunic over his head, blood dripped from the inside of the shirt down to the pale skin underneath, the scrapes from his stomach and chest glared from the ceiling lights, an angry red. The soles of his feet were in rough shape but not too horrid, they could be dealt with at a later time.

Sam returned, after what seemed like an eternity, with towels and clean clothes.

As the blood and mud were wiped away, the markings on the skin slowly began to come through, ancient enochian, that much he could tell, he couldn’t read them, not completely, only the Archangels knew how to truly read ancient enochian, and that alone gave an insinuation as to who this mysterious being was.

He hadn’t seen marks like this since……He quickly realizes why this child looks so familiar, why he knew him, but didn’t. This turn of events could be very good or very bad, and it all depended on how he felt when he woke up, and his temperament when he did.

“Raziel, Dean, this is Raziel, Archangel of Mysteries, Keeper of God’s holy secrets.”

…

It was no easy task, but they managed to pull the shocked Seraph from the library, while it made perfect sense to not want to be separated from his brother’s side, it left them with a bit of an uneasy feeling, for the reasons as to why Castiel had gone silent, shocked at discovering the kid’s real identity.

“Cas,” Dean looks over his shoulder. “Can we trust this kid?”

His friend gave him an affronted glance, did they not trust him enough as to allow someone untrustworthy within their home.

Sam rubbed at the back of his head. “Cas, who is Raziel?”

Sam was more curious then anything, if Cas trusted the kid, then he did too. As long as Castiel’s trust didn’t seem to fade. But his question had been appropriate, he didn’t know who that was, he only knew what they had been told, and that hadn’t been much.

“Raziel, is a mystery in itself. He is known as the Keeper of Secrets, and the angel of mysteries. It is said that he once gave a book of our Father’s Word to Adam and Eve up their expulsion from the Garden Eden, he loves humanity, thinks it to be a mystery he has yet to solve.”

“So, he likes gossip and riddles, then?”

Castiel shakes his head. “No, Dean, Raziel is an Archangel. There was five in total, as we were told anyway, Michael, Lucifer, Raphael, and Gabriel. Raziel is the last and youngest, but he was kept a secret to most, for his own safety, because of the knowledge he possesses. He could be used as a weapon, if he fell into the wrong hands, he knows the inner makings of the Universe, how to build upon it, and how to destroy it.”

“So, what you’re saying is, we have a baby Archangel in there, who could end the world if he’s having a bad day?”

He regretted to do so, but he nodded, Raziel could be a very dangerous individual, though not just because of his knowledge, he was a younger brother, who, given the circumstances, may be inclined to have his older brothers at his side.

“Yes, Dean, he does know how to bring about the end of the world, he would not though, but,” he turns to look at the youth over his shoulder. “That is not what has me worried.”

Sam bites his lip for a moment. “What’s got you worried, Cas?”

Castiel looks around at him. “Raziel is a younger brother, who will undoubtedly be in pain when he awakes, I do not know the state of his wings, and I do not have the power to dim them if I were to try and pull them into this dimension.” He looks between the two hunters. “A child in pain, who’s experienced trauma, would undoubtedly want the ones who make them feel safest close by their side, and the ones that make him feel safest is his older brothers.”

Both hunters exchange glances. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, that Raziel might decide he wants his older brothers at his side, and he’d have the knowledge and power to gather them there.”

“So, he might pull Michael and Lucifer from the cage?”

“Yes,” Castiel peers over his shoulder again. “But, he had four older brothers.”

Chapter Text

Silver eyes blink open, his body aches, but it’s a dull ache, he barely feels it, it’s more a presence then anything. Stretching as best as he can, he pulls away from his mortal shell, turning to sit on the edge of the table he lays on, his legs hanging over the side for a moment as he catches his bearings. It had all happened so fast, he’d been minding his own, reading a book, when the floor had just given out under him, it hurt, it burned, he was a mess. Someone had caused all the angels to fall from Heaven’s Light, fall from glory, fall from grace, however you wanted to phrase it, someone had forced it upon their family.

He was….He was scared.

He had an inkling that the person responsible had not intended for him to fall with the others, it was a suspicion, something that weighed on his mind. These were trying times they were living in, Michael and Lucifer were in the cage, Gabriel was dead, killed by Lucifer, and Raphael was dead, killed by Castiel.

Castiel. He just knows that seraph has something to do with this, whether it be a major part or a minor part, intentional or unintentional, he knows he had a part in it. He did everything all for his preconceived idea of the greater good. Who that greater good was meant for, he didn’t know, he had suspicions, yes, but nothing was confirmed, he didn’t really give him all that much attention to worry about it.

Perhaps he should have.

He’d screamed, along with those who’d fallen around him, praying and begging for help, he’d called God by Name, he, one of five, who knew God’s true Name, he screamed for Him, anyone, it was agonizing, blessed be that he lost consciousness soon after.

Looking around, taking in his surroundings, he was in an unfamiliar place, it was a library, something he deduced by the shelves of book lining the room, and he was laying on a table. A hard table, no blanket, no pillow, just completely on a table.

Shaking his head, he drops from the edge of the table, turning to look at his physical body, he was a mess. No one had taken the liberty or time to clean him up, they’d wiped him clean, there were dirty towels resting on a chair beside him, but he had burns covering most of him, his wings, though only physical on this plane of existence, were a mess, feathers charred and burned, some hanging on but only just barely, others burned away completely, leaving inflamed, burned bald spots.

No one had tended to him, they left him here, laying on a hard surface, after having just fallen from grace and being scorched as he did, without so much as any medical attention, what if he was dying? Their lack of healing of any kind would be the signature on his death certificate.

Shaking his head, he rubs the fingers of his right hand through his stiff curls, they hadn’t even cleaned him, and turns, walking away, leaving his physical body behind, maintaining the silver cord with as much strength as he could muster.

Walking through the walls, he comes upon unfamiliar faces, he only knows them by name, he does not like them. They partook in the actions that took his older brothers from him. Castiel was there, he was weak, extremely weak, no doubt from whatever part he played in this whole disaster.

He leaves the confines of the strange place, aptly described by appearance as a bunker of some sort, setting out for his query, he knows someone who can help him, they’re asleep with his Kin, but they’re both on rather good terms, he’s under the impression They’re rather fond of him, They wouldn’t mind him waking Them up to wake up the one he needed, he doesn’t think so, at least, he hopes not.

…

“Kin, I am sorry for waking you.”

A dark goo like figure forms before him, a smile gracing their features, as they wave down at him, giving him a thumbs up, as though to say it was alright.

“I have a request; I hope I’m not overstepping.”

They nod, waving a hand, gesturing for him to continue.

“I want to wake someone up.”

They bring a hand up to their chin, as though contemplating it, looking down at him firmly.

“I promise, after this one, though I may come back again, it won’t be for a short while, not too much at one time, I don’t want to overuse your kindness.”

They smile again, throwing their arm out, as though gesturing for him to do as he pleases, like he said, they’re both on rather good terms, rather fond of each other.

He smiles, stepping forward. “Thank you, Kin.” Pausing at the entities side for a moment, he looks back up at them, and they turn to meet his gaze. “Have you been having pleasant dreams?”

They smile again, nodding, another thumbs up, and a large dark hand ruffles his curls, pulling back instantly, they make an expression of disgust, wiping their hand down their front. “I know, it’s gross, my current keepers aren’t very…. hospitable.” The tall dark finger frowns deeply and lowers themselves, a large hand pressing to the small of his back, pushing him forward slightly, as though to say for him to get who he needs so he can be properly cared for.

Or so they can go back to sleep.

Perhaps a bit of both.

He smiles at them, stepping forward, feeling the presence of the being meld back into they’re surroundings, this place, this entire place was the Entity, Void was this place, and this place was Void, they were everywhere, ingrained with it, built into the frame work.

Walking passed his sleeping family members, wrapped in cocoons of a black hued goo, he searches for the one he came here for, trying to be as quite as possible, in case his Kin was trying to return to sleep. He comes to a stop in front of the one he’s searching for, the one he came for, and African American male, eyes closed in slumber, and he reaches into the goo, it’s a strange feeling, it’s not wet, there’s no liquid matter in it, but it’s strange, it feels like something akin to gelatin, just without the wetness, his fingers curling around an emerald pendant hanging down their chest, and he pulls it closer, rubbing his thumb over the front of it, it’s been so long since they’d last been together.

He missed him.

“Israfel, wake up, you’re needed.”

Bright emerald green eyes snap open.

…

“This is deplorable, Raziel.”

He laughs at the distaste and disgust in his older brothers tone, climbing up to sit above his head on the table. “It feels nasty, too.”

Raphael touches a hand to his curls, frowning distastefully at their stiffness, stiff from the guck at the bottom of the lake he’d landed in. “This merely wiped you down, they didn’t think to bathe you, and what is this you’re wearing?” He tugs lightly at the warn wrinkled large t’shirt they’d clothed him in. “I don’t even think this is clean, and they laid you on a table, no blanket, no pillow, this is extremely distasteful.”

“That’s what I thought too. I’m going to have one heck of a backache when I wake up.”

The older Archangel hums in distaste. “Their hospitality is atrocious.” He shakes his head, shooing him off of the top of the table, and he jumps away, floating for a moment, before lowering to the floor. “I will give you the care you should have received upon your arrival. What scent of shampoo do you want?”

“Pomegranate.”

His older brother nods, waving his hand over the side of the table he’d previously been sitting on, and supplies appear there at a pull of his grace and his whim. Two basins of steamy water, one for the washing and another for the rinsing, shampoo and conditioner, soap, sponges, and a few new towels. “First, I will bathe you, clean away anything that might set an infection into those abrasions and burns you have, then I will tend to your wounds, and then, I will tend to your wings, those are an eyesore.”

Raziel smiles at him, hopping up to sit on the table at his feet, crossing his legs before him. “You were always my favorite brother.”

“You’re just trying to suck up to me to save yourself the scolding because I know the state of your wings are not solely from your falling from grace.” Raphael turns to smile at him though, reaching out to pat his cheek lightly, before turning back to his physical form laying on the table. “But, you were always my favorite brother, too.”

“I knew it all along.”

“Oh, did you, now?”

The younger Archangel nods, leaning forward against his knees, resting his chin in his palm, he’s staying in his astral form until he’s taken care of, thank you. Watching his older brother roll his sleeves up as he sets out to work, lifting his head gently to place a towel under it, and uses a sponge to drench his stiff curls with clean hot water, massages the shampoo through his curls and over his scalp, before carefully lifting his top half up to hover over the other basin, using the same sponge to pour water over his head again, to rinse out the shampoo, massages conditioner in, in just the same manner, and rinses that too when he’s done.

He wipes down his face, down around his ears, around the back of his neck, and down under his chin, down his neck. The Healer places the sponge aside, to pull the large shirt off of him, and Raziel blushes at being revealed to the world around them, but it’s just him and his older brother, and Raphael had bathed him a number of times when he’d been a small fledgling, he’d already seen everything there was to see. He works quickly, bathing him, sponging him down, then he dries him, and waves his hand absently over the used supplies, ointments and bandages replace them, and he gingerly applies the ointment to his burns and wraps them up, he waves his hand again, and clothes appear, proper clothes, pajamas, appearing in their place. His older brother pulls his undergarments on first, then the warm pajama bottoms, and then the top, buttoning it up slowly, and lastly, a pair of thick wool socks.

Raphael sits back for a moment, looking him over, as though to ensure he hadn’t missed anything. “There, that’s got to feel much better.”

“Thanks, mom.”

Raziel shrieks with laughter when his brother leans over and claws his fingers into his belly, and he wraps his arms around himself, as though that would stop the attack that’s being had on his physical body, and rolls over the edge of the table, just floating there as he squirms and writhes midair, throwing out apology after apology, begging him to stop.

“Watch yourself, baby brother, it’s easier to punish you this way.” Raphael smiles at his youngest brother’s bright laughter, he hadn’t heard it in so long, let alone been the cause of it, and he savored it for a few moments before pulling away. “I’d be mindful, I’m going to groom your wings next, and I know very well how sensitive those are.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll behave, I swear, no more attacks!”

“What’s the magic word?”

“Please!”

He chuckles softly, pulling the younger Archangel’s silver wings into his plane of existence, waving his hand over the empty side of the table to gather the things he needs to accomplish this task. “I’ll think about it, since you said ‘please’.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Of course, I’m a fair and kind Archangel.”

Raziel snorts and he smiles, he’ll let that one go, because he’s a kind being.

…

They awaken to a voice drifting down the hall from the Library, Castiel draws his blade, waving to his two friends to stay behind him, as they make their way down the hall towards the room. They wait just outside the door, listening to the deep voice intone something, and the Seraph makes a hand gesture at them, and they all turn, charging into the Library.

An African American man turns to look at them, sitting at the table, leaning back in a chair, rubbing his thumb and index fingers together absently. “And, the three stooges join us, pleasant.”

Dean levels his gun on him. “Who the hell—”

“Raphael.” Castiel intones darkly. “How are you here?”

The Archangel smiles slightly. “Hello, Castiel, you never thought you’d see me again, did you, after you killed me.”

“I was—”

“I know, you foolish little seraph, I know.” He drops his arm, his fingers parting, crossing his left leg over his right knee. “Tell me, how did that play out?” He eyes him appraisingly. “Still up to your ways, I see, you’re practically human, you’ve barely got a speck of grace left, how did that happen?”

“I was deceived, my attempts were to close the gates, Metatron had ulterior motives.”

“I see,” Raphael nods, looking over to the chair next to him, as though there was someone there, that they couldn’t see, and he nods again. “That is a very good inquiry, baby brother.” He turns back to the seraph. “What was your purpose in trying to seal Heaven?”

“Hey, you’re not the one asking questions here!”

He sighs, turning his attention to the hunter. “Hello, Dean.” His head flits around. “Raziel, mind your language.” He nods. “Apology accepted, see that you do.” And turns back to them. “I will answer his question, Raziel woke me from my eternal sleep, I am appalled by the state you left him in, it was atrocious, did none of you think to clean him?”

Sam lowers his gun. “How did he wake you; he’s lying there on the table, we would have known if he’d woken up.”

“Astral projection, he’s projecting himself at the moment while his body heals up a bit more, I would numb the injuries, but, alas, I don’t have what I need to do so.”

Castiel frowns. “If he is projecting, why can’t I see him?”

Raphael sighs deeply, as though growing annoyed. “Did you not hear me, you’re practically human, you can’t see into the metaphysical unless you’re clairvoyant, and as it appears, you are not.” He turns to look at the chair next to him. “Raziel, do not think, for even a moment, that I won’t turn you over my knee, if you continue to use such language.” He turns back to them. “Now, I answered your question, care to return the favor?”

Castiel straightens. “We were attempting to complete the trials to seal the gates so the angels could reconcile.”

“I see, and what were your plans for those on Earth when they found that they could not return to Heaven?” The three of him stare at him. “You did know that there are angels stationed on Earth, right?”

Sam licks his lips. “There are angels on Earth?”

“Well, of course, quite a few of them.” He leans against the arm of the chair. “There are the Miracle Workers, Guardians, I do hope you didn’t assume you were the only Guardian Angel, Castiel.” He shakes his head when he gets no response. “There’s a number of Messengers on Earth, Choir Angels, who offer inspiration to Artists, a number of factionless who tend to the environment. Healers of course, I loathe to think of what has happened to my healers because of this, I will have to find out for myself once we clean up your mess.”

“That’s….That’s a lot of angels.”

Raphael hums in amusement. “Isn’t it?” He addresses the Seraph. “So, surely you had something in mind for them, with your plan to bar them from Heaven.”

Castiel falters slightly. “I didn’t realize—”

“Oh, you didn’t realize, how unfortunate, so, from what Raziel has told me, then angels who were in Heaven were wrongly cast from grace.”

Dean glares at him. “Cas was tricked—”

“An excuse.” The Archangel shakes his head, adjusting his position, in a manner that one would with someone taking occupancy in their lap. “You should not meddle with things you do not fully understand, even if you weren’t deceived, closing the gates would have been disastrous.” He curls his arm around something. “Raziel has been sifting through your memories—”

“What!”

He continued on as though the older Winchester hadn’t so rudely interrupted him. “—you’ve killed one of my Virtues, two of them have committed suicide because of you, and the other twos whereabouts remain unknown. You tortured poor Gadreel for information and attempted to kill him when he offered you his assistance, Thaddeus is going to be furious, I should hope you know that.”

“Why would the guy who tortured him be furious that we did too?” Sam tilts his head. “Wouldn’t he be pleased?”

“Hardly, Thaddeus adores Gadreel, he’s his baby brother, he’s going to be furious when he finds out what you did to his baby brother.” He nods lightly. “We’ll have to find the two of them, the Powers of course, we’ll have to find them as well, we’ll have to find a number of them.” Raphael looks down slightly. “Raziel, can you track their grace trails?” He nods lightly. “Very good.” And returns his attention to them. “And, of course, most important, we’ll have to reopen Heaven, and explore the extent of the damage you have caused.” The Archangel hums to himself. “Do me a favor, Castiel, I implore you, leave the matters that concern Heaven and the Host to us.”

Dean snarls at him. “If you think we’re letting you take over again, you got another thing coming!”

Raphael sighs deeply. “As though you could stop me, I digress though, technically speaking, seeing as how myself and Gabriel died, Michael and Lucifer are trapped in the cage, the leading of the Host falls upon Raziel, unless he decides to give that mantle to someone else.”

“He should give it to Cas!”

“Why would he give it to someone who knows so little?” He shakes his head and nods slightly. “He’s given it over to me.”

Dean aims his gun again. “Like hell we’re letting you go back to being in charge!”

“I come back to my previous statement, as though you could stop me, it’s mine by birthright, as thirdborn, and Raziel forfeiting the position to me.” He nods slightly. “I was doing fine, having to deal with any upstart trying to take away your birthright would upset any rational person, our meetings were as pleasant as they were because of him, and him alone.” Raphael pats something they can’t see, they assume it’s Raziel, and nods to the body laying on the table. “You should be healed enough to return to your body.”

The three of them jump when the youth inhales deeply, stretching widely, Raphael catches him as he rolls off the side of the table, pulling him back up to sit on his lap again, and bright silver eyes stare back at them.

“Tell me, Castiel, do you know why it’s us Archangels that are the ones in charge when our Father is otherwise indisposed?” The older Archangel looks down to the younger for a moment, wrapping an arm around his waist, and turns his attention up to the three before him. “Because, we know everything that someone who intends to lead should know.”

Chapter Text

Raphael turns his attention away from the three that always seem to be right in the thick of the trouble, and down to his baby brother, brushing his blonde curls out of his eyes. “Gadreel’s grace is strongest here, he was here, and wounded, so we’ll have to go after him first. If he’s injured, I want to get him tended to as soon as possible.” He spares the three of them a glance. “And, if his wounds were created by your hand, I would hope and pray that Thaddeus does not find out, lest it be on your heads.”

None of them say anything, for which he is grateful for, he doesn’t think he’d have had the patience to listen to their nonsense and chatter.

He pats the blonde youth on the stomach, and Raziel stands, taking the seat after he vacates it, and rubs his hands down his dress shirt to smooth out the wrinkles, and turns back to the blonde. “Raziel, will you be alright by yourself?” The Archangel of Mysteries nods mutely, not much for words, this one, and he turns his attention to the other three. “If Gadreel is injured, as I suspect him to be, he is going to need rest, I would appreciate it if you’d make him up a room.”

“Now, look here, doucheba—”

“Let me rephrase,” he turns a dark glare on the oldest hunter. “If he does not have a room set up by the time I return with him, I will wipe you off of time and space, and there is nothing your little pet can do to stop me.”

“We’ll have a room made up.” Sam Winchester, the one he dislikes the least out of the three of them, is rather more intelligent then his brother is, and he nods in appreciation and approval. “Good luck.”

Raphael eyes him for a moment, and nods, turning back to his baby brother. “Raziel, change of plans for you, I will go after Gadreel, I want you to find Thaddeus.” The blonde salutes him mutely and stands. “Much obliged.”

He turns his attention back to the three and frowns in disgust. “We’ll be back.”

…

Raphael is the one to return first, Gadreel practically hanging from his grip, one arm wrapped around the Archangel’s shoulders and the Archangel’s other arm wrapped around his waist, the front of his shirt soaked with blood, and he turns to glare at the oldest Hunter a glare so deadly it brings even him to back up a step. “If my little brother wasn’t in the state he is now, I would tear you apart piece by piece, for attacking him whilst he offered his assistance. I’ll leave the vengeance seeking for his older brother, Thaddeus has a kind heart, until you find yourself on his bad side.”

He turns away from them then, focused on the task at hand, stepping forward, to the bed that had been made up for the old sentry of Eden, and whispers words of encouragement to him as they slowly amble closer and closer. He knows they’re still there, he can feel their eyes on his back, but he ignores them, there are more pressing matters to address first.

“Easy, easy now.” The Healer carefully pulls the younger angel’s arm from around his shoulders, and helps turn him, settling him in bed. “There we are, the hard parts over, for now, anyway, let’s take a look at the damage.”

Gadreel whines as he slowly lifts his shirt, and he hushes him softly, pulling it over his head carefully, and tosses it aside, discarding it completely. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he feels around the wound, it’s a deep slash, nothing vital appears to be struck or sliced, and hushes him again when the old sentry whines softly at the pressure he applies. “Nothing too bad, little one, a few stitches will do the trick.”

“Can I get you anything?” Sam’s trying to be helpful. “Medical supplies?”

Raphael shakes his head, not looking away from his patient. “No, I will use my own.”

“How are yo—”

“I’m an Archangel, Sam Winchester, and the Healer at that, I think I can procure my own medical supplies.” He snaps his fingers and a cart appears at his side. “Easy as that.” The Archangel turns to the cart at his side and pulls open the top drawer, sifting inside for what he needs, withdrawing a cloth, and opens the bottom drawer for a bottle of disinfectant, before turning his attention back to his injured baby brother. “This is going to sting Gaddy, I need you to be brave, alright?”

The younger angel nods lightly and bites his lip, watching with wide eyes as the Healer pours some disinfectant on the cloth, sets the bottle aside, and reaches out to dab at the gash. He cries out, admittedly, from the pain of the sting, and the Archangel hushes him softly as he makes quick work of cleaning up and sets the cloth aside as he turns back to the cart. “I’m going to give you some local anesthetic to help numb the area before I stitch it closed.” Gadreel nods in appreciation, laying back against the pillow, he doesn’t feel so good at the moment.

The Elder takes notice immediately. “It’s alright, little one, I’ll be through before you know it.” He sticks the needle in and injects the anesthetic, sets the empty shot down in the tray on top of the cart, and readies the needle as he waits for the anesthetic take hold. “Alright, it should be nice and numb, you might feel a slight tugging sensation, but that should be the most of it.”

He nods lightly, closing his eyes, whining softly when the Healer leans over and sticks the needle in, looping the first stitch. Gadreel clenches his fists, trying to remain tough and strong, especially with their audience, but he can’t help it, though it’s numb, it still hurts, and he reaches up to curl his hand around the Healer’s lower arm, a warm hand pats his for a moment, before it returns to the work that needed to be done. Raphael makes quick work of the stitches, ties the line, and snips the thread.

“There we are, the hard parts done,” he squeezes the hand curled around his arm. “Now, I’m going to help sit you up so I can wrap you in some bandages, alright, move slowly, no sudden movement, it’s going to be a bit sore for a while once the anesthetic wears off.”

The old sentry nods, whining as he’s helped into the sitting position, and Raphael reaches into the third drawer of his cart for a bandage wrap, and carefully winds it around his stomach, covering the fresh stitches. “I’ll check on it every so often to ensure infection doesn’t start to set in.” He guides the younger angel back down against his pillows and reaches down to pull the blankets up over him, turning back to his cart, he opens the first drawer, for a bottle, and pours two blue pills into his hand, caps the bottle, replaces it in his cart, and reaches for a glass of water on the nightstand that had not been there moments before. “Here, little one, this will help with the pain once the anesthetic wear off.” The Archangel helps lift his patients head, and Gadreel takes the two blue pills, and a sip from his glass of water. “Raziel is fetching Thaddeus. I’m sure he’ll take good care of you between my visits.”

His eyes widen in surprise when the younger angel bursts into tears, harsh unforgiving tears, and he lifts his hand from his arm, squeezing it in his own. “What ever is the matter, little one, I’d have thought you’d be happy Thaddeus would be here.”

Gadreel chokes on a sob. “H—H—He’s go—going t—t—to h—hate m—m—me!”

Raphael tilts his head slightly. “Why would he hate you, as long as I’ve known him, he’s always adored you.”

“Perhaps, he thinks that, because he killed me.” Gadreel sobs harder at the sound of his voice, and the Archangel turns, the Warden standing in the doorway of the room Raziel had guided him to. Thaddeus stands there, his hands tucked in his pockets, slouching slightly, his beloved feather sticking out of the bun on the back of his head. “That would most certainly do it.”

The Healer turns back to the former sentry. “Why would you kill Thaddeus?”

Gadreel chokes on a sob. “M—M—Metatron t—told m—m—me t—to! H—H—He s—said if I—I—I h—helped h—h—him he c—c—could ma—make t—t—them l—like m—m—me ag—again!”

“He said he would make them like you again?” Raphael presses his lips to the back of the younger angel’s hand. “You poor tortured soul, he was using you, little one, he was only using you.” He turns to the Warden behind him. “Thaddeus, do you hate him now?”

He sighs deeply, shaking his head as he steps forward, coming to sit next to him on the edge of the bed, taking his hand from the Archangel’s, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “I could never hate you, little grasshopper, never, especially if you were being used.” Thaddeus kisses the back of his hand again. “And, you best believe, that I still adore those toes.” Gadreel gives a watery giggle, curling his toes up under the blankets, and the Warden smiles at him. “Oh, yes, I still love those toes.”

“Who knew that the ninja turtle and a torturer could be so…..kind.” Dean whispers to his younger brother. “I mean…wow.”

“They were two of the kindest angels in Heaven.” They all jump, Sam, Dean, and Castiel, at the soft voice from behind them. Raziel spares them a glance before turning back to his older brothers in the room before them, his tone was soft, almost like that of a whisper, soft spoken, the first time they’d ever heard him speak in his time being here, though for over half of that time he’d been unconscious. “Thaddeus was Heaven’s best torturer, but not in the way you’re thinking, he wasn’t violent, neither was Raph.”

“Oh, yea, then why was ninja turtle such a dick to Cas then, answer that, Angel of Mysteries.”

The young blonde glares at the older hunter. “First off, it’s Archangel of Mysteries. Secondly, watch how you speak to me, I have the knowledge and ability to wipe you off the face of existence, as though you were never here. And, thirdly, wouldn’t you be in a bad mood if someone were trying to take what was yours by birthright from you?” Raziel turns away from him. “Fucking mudmonkey.”

“Raziel.” Raphael’s voice floats over to them, though he doesn’t turn to look at them, he’d still heard him. “That was your third strike, once I get myself a room set up, we will deal with this disrespectful language.”

The younger Archangel blushes deeply, and averts his eyes, shuffling his feet. “Yes, big brother.”

Dean Winchester snorts behind him, whispering to his brother, but it’s still loud enough for him to hear. “Someone’s in trouble.”

He has no regrets when he spins around and rams his fist in the hunter’s face.

The older Archangel sighs deeply. “Thaddeus, I trust you’ll care for him while I’m otherwise preoccupied?”

Thaddeus nods without an ounce of hesitation. “Always.”

“Very good.” Raphael stands from the edge of the bed, gesturing to the cart. “The blue pills, first drawer, are for pain, give him two every four hours.”

“Got it, oh wise one.”

Thaddeus laughs softly when the Archangel smacks him over the head before turning around, crossing the room fluidly, and captures the younger Archangel by the bicep. “You and I need to have a private conversation, Raziel.”

Though he’s angry at the hunter for making fun of him, it doesn’t stop the dread from filling him at the implications of that statement, he knows what follows after that statement.

The Archangel turns his attention to the older hunter. “If you make fun of him again, I won’t be so kind as to heal you.” And, touches a finger to the hunters temple, healing him with his grace, nodding now that his job is complete, he turns to the younger hunter. “Samuel, I have just a tad more respect for you, just a tad, don’t linger on it, I will be taking the room next to this one, before we do anything to reopen the gates of Heaven, I am going to collect all that were unjustly case out, you’ve got enough rooms in this place, we will claim this hall and the next. If any of you have an objections, feel free to keep them to yourselves, because I don’t, and will never, give a rats ass about them.”

…

The younger Archangel opts into staying in his older brother’s room after their ‘conversation’, which goes noticed, but uncommented on, they knew for sure, that Raphael was not lying when he said he’d leave them be the next time they made fun of Raziel and he decided to retaliate for the offense.

Raphael stops first to check on the former sentry and his Warden, smiling at the squealing laughter he hears outside the door, it had only been a matter of time before Thaddeus took up his favorite passed time of torturing the younger ones, especially if they had once been his prisoners, and doubly so if they were one of his favorites, on one of his favorite people, and he opens the door silently, peering inside to see what mess was being made of the younger angel.

Thaddeus has changed the bandages, as he knew he most likely would, and has taken a position at the end of the bed, holding his prisoner’s left foot captive in his left arm, threading his feather between the younger angel’s toes and brushing them torturously as he pulls his feather back and forth. Gadreel squeals intermittently between bouts of hysterical cackles, begging his older brother for mercy, to which his response is that he gets absolutely no mercy because this was his recompense for killing him, and promises to go like this for an hour, which makes the old sentry squeal again, at the mere thought of it, and knowing that Thaddeus was perfectly willing to follow through on his threat, he was known to do so, particularly when it came to Abner, because he was always a sarcastic little shit to him, and sometimes Thaddeus would get fed up with the constant sarcasm.

Not that he could blame him. He would too. He knows just how bad Abner can be.

Shaking his head in one part fondness and one part amusement, he steps out, closing the door behind him, he’ll leave them be, for now.

…

“I’m going to start calling the others in.” Raphael rubs his hands together, and places one on his younger brother’s blonde curls. “Starting with the ones who are injured, if they are injured, they are unable to defend themselves, if they were to need to defend themselves if that need were to arise.”

Raziel looks up at him curiously. “How are you going to do that?”

He smiles down at his baby brother, rubbing his head lightly, for all that he knew, he was still learning. “I’m going to flare my grace, and, hopefully, any who feel it and need assistance will come.”

The younger Archangel nods lightly, shivering at the feeling of the Healer’s tingly grace surging through the room, through the walls, and over their wavelength.

Nothing happens for a long moment, and he fears no one will respond, either already gone, or too afraid to come. They all jump around at the crash and the wail, rushing around the table, and stare momentarily at the body that lays there, the only indication that they’re alive is their wailing, and a blackened charred hand reaches out for the Archangel, snapping him out of his shock, he rushes forward.

“It’s alright, it’s going to be alright.” The younger angel screams loudly when he winds an arm under his knees and around his shoulders, lifting him up into his arms, and rushes forward, Raziel behind him, and the supposed team free will, he doubted the name highly, it wasn’t about free will, it was their will, or dead, follow behind the young blonde Archangel. Raziel opens the door to the room they stop in front of, allowing the older Archangel inside, and would have closed the door in their faces had his older brother not called out to him. “Raziel, I need you to rewind. I don’t have what I need to treat the severity of the burns.”

The younger Archangel nods, rushing to his side, and raises his hand, twisting a finger in a counter clockwise motion, the burns start to change color, the blackened skin starts to lighten, the charred skin fading into a light pink, Josiah’s cries come to a slow end, his breathing steadying out, and Raphael smiles down at him, pressing his hand to the small of the younger Archangel’s back as if to signal he had done enough, he could work with this kind of burn with what he had on hand.

Raziel nods lightly, stepping back, claiming the desk as his seat, and watches his brother sit on the edge of the other’s bed.

“Josiah, little one,” the Healer caresses his cheek tenderly. “How did this happen?”

The burnt angel licks his lips lightly. “Trap….I was a spy…..Metatron’s spy….Trap…..So I couldn’t betray him.” Salty tears flood into his eyes as he stares up at the Archangel, the one he now knew was the one who should be in charge of Heaven and the Host. “Sorry…Raph….Big brother….So sorry….Please….Don’t be mad…”

“Oh, little one, I’m not mad at you.” He rubs away a tear when it slips free. “I’m a tad upset. But I’m not mad at you.”

“Swear?”

The Archangel smiles down at him. “I swear.” He pats his cheek lightly. “Let’s soothe those burns you’ve got.”

Josiah smiles up at him, nodding his head, he’d appreciate that.

Raphael returns his smile, snapping his fingers, and like it had in Gadreel’s room, another cart appears at his side, and he turns, opening the bottom drawer for a larger bottle, a clear bottle, with a clear substance inside. “Aloe will do the trick with first degree burns.” He helps him sit up, and carefully rubs the aloe over his front, then his back, over his face and neck, down his arms, and moves to his lower body, turning to the other Archangel, and Raziel nods, shooing the others away so he can close the door to give their brother a sense of privacy as Aloe is applied to some rather private areas and then down his legs. “Now, I’m going to wrap you up, you’ll be a rather apt impersonation of a mummy, but it’ll keep the burns from being irritated.”

“If anyone’s the mummy around here, it’s you.” Josiah squeaks when a finger traces over his sole and he kicks his foot, smiling when his older brother turns to look at him from over his shoulder, and shakes his head pleadingly. “I take it back!”

“Be mindful, little brother, these feet were the only thing left untouched.” He giggles as a finger traces over his sole again. “And, I never forget these things, I know just how sensitive these feet are.”

“I take it back! I swear!”

“I’m sure you do.” Raphael scratches a finger up his sole one more time, smiling at the soft giggling it produces, and turns back to face him. “You know, Thaddeus is here, I’m sure if I told him that your feet needed some attention, he’d be more than happy to provide them the attention they need.”

Josiah’s eyes widen. “Does he have the feather?”

“Does he go anywhere without it?”

“Oh my God, please don’t tell him!”

He pats him on the belly. “I’ll think about it. But, if he comes in here within the next hour, you’ll know who sent him.”

Chapter Text

He takes Raziel with him as he leaves Josiah to rest and dwell on his threat of sending Thaddeus after him, he has every intention, how dare that little thing call him a mummy in reference of his age, he closes the door behind him, sparing the so called team free will a glance before looking down at his baby brother. “Raziel, the others are going to be in rough shape with the fall itself and I’m afraid I can’t take care of them all on my own, I need my Virtues to assist me, I have no doubts that they themselves are in rough shape,” he spares a moment to glare at the seraph. “Seeing as to how they had to step up to cover for my absence.” And turns his attention back to the youngest Archangel. “I can feel the others, though I hate to prioritize, I cannot feel two of them, where is my Captain and my second youngest?”

Dean scoffs. “As though he’s going to kn—”

“They’re dead.” Raziel interrupts him, sparing him a smug glance, and looks to Castiel to confirm his truth, smirking when the seraph nods to his mudmonkey friend. “Metatron had them brainwashed to follow his command, they came down with the fall, they killed themselves as a warning for Castiel.”

Raphael nods, frowning in distaste and disgust. “I see, was anyone else brainwashed for his supposed cause?”

The blonde shakes his head. “No, the others followed him willingly, though perhaps partially on false promises, such as he had with Gadreel.”

“I see,” the older Archangel nods again. “Do you know who else gave him their allegiance?”

He nods lightly. “Asariel, Neil, Ezra, Indra, and Ingrid.”

Sam stares at him in awe. “How do you know this?”

Raziel smiles at him slightly, he likes the younger Winchester, he’s not so bad, for a mudmonkey. “I know everything.”

“Almost everything, baby brother, granted more then I do myself.” Raphael ruffles his blond curls. “Can you awaken Oren and Constantine?”

He nods again. “Yes, I told them I would be returning intermittently for the others, and they allowed it.”

Castiel steps forward. “Is he talking about Void?”

The younger Archangel turns to look at him. “Who else takes our kind when we die?” He nods sharply. “Of course, I’m talking about them.”

The Seraph blinks in surprise, he’s heard rumors about Void, particularly that they don’t like being awakened. “You wake them?”

“Of course, one can’t take from them without their permission, the key is being kind and speaking softly, and not dilly dallying about, if they grant your request, you do what you came to do, and you promptly make your leave.”

Sam tilts his head. “Void?”

Raziel sighs as he turns to address him. “Yes, its where we go when we die, an endless sleep, no dreams, no nightmares, just sleep, unless you’re woken up, me and Void are rather good friends, they’re our Family, Father’s Kin.”

“God has a sibling?”

“Didn’t I already answer that?” The younger Archangel turns to his brother. “I can wake them, but I won’t be able to bring both at the same time, and I don’t know if their altered mental state will still be in affect even after death and awakening.”

Raphael nods firmly, he too isn’t sure about that. “I will come with you then.”

The younger Winchester steps forward slightly. “Can we come with you?”

Raziel turns to look up at his older brother at the hunter’s inquiry and the Healer shrugs. “It’s up to you, you are the one Void allows into their domain freely, they allow us to come with you, not on our own.”

He heaves a deep sigh, maybe they’ll get annoyed with the trio and keep them there, it’s a outcome he’s willing to suffer bringing them for. “Fine, you can come, but don’t say a word, Void doesn’t like interacting, they like sleep, they’re not one for conversation, we talk frequently, we’re friends, but they don’t tend to like anyone else all too much.”

Castiel purses his lips as his command, but Sam nods, shooting a pointed look to the seraph and older hunter. “Understood.”

…

It was shocking and awe inspiring to step into Void’s domain, even to the older Archangel, and especially the self-titled team free will. It was an expanse of darkness, as far as the eye could see, a pale light casted over the region, like the light from the moon hanging high in the sky, and warm, like a summer’s night.

Raziel holds his hand up as the ground underfoot starts to move, Sam watches it in fascination, Raphael looks around silently, outside of Father, there were only two who were allowed into Void’s domain freely, Azrael being one, and Raziel being the only other. “Kin, I’m sorry for waking you, again, so soon.”

Sam gasps softly, Dean curses under his breath, and Castiel reaches for his blade, and Raphael’s eyes widen in surprise at the larger being, as a form rises from the dark ground, it has no legs, made purely from the goo like substance that the ground was made of, solid underfoot, but malleable when necessary.

A smile spreads over their features, and they wave a goo dripping hand, as though to wave away his apology, reaching a large hand out to ruffle his curls, and Raziel grins up at them, not a single drop of the dripping goo is left, it seems to only be sticking to the deity before them. Voids lowers themselves, resting their head on their right hand and nods, waving their other hand, as though knowing he has a request.

“You remember how I said I would be coming back for more?”

Void nods lightly.

“I want to wake two more, if it’s not too much to ask, I swear, there might be a few more, but not so soon after this.”

The being taps a finger to it’s chin, mauling it over for a moment, and throws a hand out playfully, rising again to tower over them, nodding as they wave around

Raziel smiles up at them. “You’re truly my best friend, kin.”

Void makes the shape of a heart with their fingers, and presses a hand to it chest, as though to return the sentiment.

The Keeper of God’s secrets does the same. “The ones that I come for took their own lives.”

The being nods firmly, a small frown gracing their features, and gestures to the ones at his side.

Raphael starts from his awe when a small hand latches on to his, and he looks down to his baby brother, Raziel pays him no mind as he grabs the younger hunter’s hand, nodding to the other two. “Take his hand, they’re going to drop us into that part of their domain.”

Dean Winchester appears to want to say something, but is silence be a look from his brother, and takes his hand roughly in annoyance, snatching the seraph’s hand in his other.

The blonde youngling looks back up to their host. “Thank you, friend, whenever it pleases you.”

Void smiles at him again and nods, sinking back into the goo, and then they drop through the goo floor.

The domain the fall into it like that of a calm lake, they’re underwater, it’s clear, you can see around you as far as your sight can go. The other members of his party choke and cover their noses and mouth with their hands, and he lets go of his brothers hand as he turns to face them, waving his arms and kicking as though he was swimming. “You can breathe, it’s okay.”

Sam Winchester shows a trust in him that he hadn’t known was there, when he pulls his hand away and inhales, eyes widening when the sense of oxygen fills his lungs. “It’s okay guys, he’s telling the truth, it’s okay.”

The others slowly, cautiously follow his example, and Raziel huffs in irritation when his older brother follows their lead as they do. “It’s not like I’d let you die. I’m a pacifist.” He swims out in front of then, waving at them from over his shoulder. “Come on, follow me.” He dives, and they follow after him quickly, not wanting to lose sight of the only guide they had in this place.

“It feels like we’re swimming under water.”

Raziel turns to look at the older hunter for a moment. “You are, dumbas—” His older brother clears his throat. “Dumby.” He turns back around to watch where they’re going. “We’re in The waters.”

Sam turns to him for a moment. “The waters?”

The Archangel of Mysteries nods. “Creation Day one, God said let there be light, He separated the Light from the Darkness. Father is Light and Void is Darkness. Creation Day two, God said let there be firmament in the midst of the waters, let it separate the waters from the waters.”

Even his older brother turns to look at him. “So, we’re in day two?”

Raziel shakes his head. “Between day one and day two, the waters haven’t been separated yet. Voids actual domain is technically day one, the pale light is the Light, still mixed in the Darkness.”

Sam pipes up from his other side. “Are the other days here too?”

He nods. “Yea, if you go through the bottom you’ll run into day three, and so and so forth, we’re in Earth’s life cycle, we’re technically between Heaven and Earth, in a pocket realm, if you go through all of the days, you’ll return to the normal Earth.” He leads them through a rock structure. “We’re almost there.”

Raphael hums softly. “Raziel, how do you know of this place, not even I did.”

“Azrael killed himself.”

He turns to him quickly. “He did what?”

Raziel spares him a glance. “He wanted to see where we went if we took our own lives, so he killed himself, and told me to come get him.”

“Oh, my God, I can’t believe you two.”

“We’ve done worse.”

“What?”

He thanks his Father when Dean pipes up. “We almost there, kid?”

Raziel glares over at him. “Just beyond that reef there.”

They come to a stop at the edge of the reef, it’s a slight drop off, a plateau below them, covered in what appears to be bubbles, they’re clear, they can see the beings inside, or, from their distance, they can see the forms of the beings within the bubble like structures, just on the other side is a valley of underwater volcanoes, the closest ones bubbling heavily, and just beyond the volcanoes are errupting.

Sam points at them. “Day three?”

The young Archangel nods. “Day three: God made land.” He gestures over his shoulder. “The expanse of the reef and plateau is day two, God separated the waters, making the sky, over there is the start of day three, God making land, just beyond is day four, and so on.”

Castiel finally makes himself known. “Why is this place here?”

“I already told you that, idiot.”

Raphael shakes his head. “I think what he means is, why are the ones who took their own lives here?”

“Oh,” Raziel shrugs. “I’m not really sure, I think it’s because this is where Life really began, outside of what the humans assume, the plateau is the end of day two and the beginning of day three, the first living organisms are the tiny little critters who live in the volcano gasses, so this is where life started. Dad’s got a sense of poetic irony.” He shakes his head slightly. “Come on, let’s go wake up Ori and Costa.” He dives over the edge of the cliff and they scramble after him.

They all look between the bubbles as they swim through them, taking in the creatures within, it’s not just angels, there’s all sorts of creatures, werewolves, vampires, wraiths, skin crawlers, witches, demons, it’s a supernatural grave yard.

Raziel waves them over when he spots one of the ones they’re searching for, and they gather around him as they gaze inside, a man resides there, long dark blond hair in a bun on top of his head, a well-trimmed beard, floating in a seated position, somewhat of a fetal position, his eyes are closed, a scar on his bare chest, where he’d stabbed himself, a talisman hanging on a chain around his neck.

Sam shakes his head in awe. “It looks like he’s dead.”

“He is, technically.” The Secret Keeper nods. “But, he’s just sleeping, if you focus on it, his chest is moving, he’s breathing.”

“This is amazing, I hadn’t the faintest idea this was all here.” The Healer presses a hand to the small of his back. “How do we wake him up?”

Raziel nods, reaching into the bubble, curling his fingers around the talisman. “Oren, awaken, you’re needed.”

The all, well, except for Raziel, jolt back when his eyes snap open so suddenly, brown eyes glowing for a moment before they fade. He blinks at them, a few times, and shakes his head, as though clearing away the sleep, and the younger angel pulls him forward by the talisman around his neck. “Don’t freak out, you’re under water, but you can still breathe.”

Oren nods, moving slowly, like one does when waking from a long winters nap, and pulls himself out of his bubble, it pops, as he moves, no longer needed now that it’s occupant is awake.

The Virtue rubs at his face lightly before looking up. “Raph?” His eyes widen in surprise at the sight of his Archangel, last thing he knew was… “I thought you were dead?”

Raphael smiles at him gently. “I was, my little one, until Raziel woke me up.”

The younger angel stares at him for a moment before jetting forward, ramming into him, curling around him tightly. “I’m so happy you’re back!”

“I’m happy to be back, my little one.” He strokes a hand down the back of his head. “Oren, who’s the commander of your flock?”

After a long moment, the Virtue pulls away from his Archangel, and tilts his head in confusion. “You are, of course, why?”

Raziel nods firmly. “Cool, so he’s good, Costa should be too, then.”

“Fine?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

Oren stares at him for a long moment, and shrugs, looking around himself. “Where are we?”

The young Archangel sighs deeply. “Between day two and day three of creation.” He swims forward, between Virtue and Archangel. “Come on, let’s find Costa.”

Oren turns to his Archangel for clarification and Raphael shrugs slightly. “I just found out this place existed, I have no idea.”

That seems to appease his curiosity, and they quickly turn to follow after God’s Secret Keeper, looking between other bubbles in continual awe as they searched for the other Virtue. Raziel’s pulling him out when they find him again, and Constantine blinks and rubs at his eyes, before looking between his Captain and Archangel.

“Raph,” he turns to the other. “Oren….How?”

Neither of them have an answer and they both shrug, gesturing to the blonde Archangel at his side. “Raziel.”

Constantine curls around his Archangel for a long moment before Raziel injects himself. “Okay, ready to go back?”

They all nod, looking to him for guidance, this was outside of the knowledge and such. The Secret Keeper nods, swimming closer to Oren, curling his legs around his chest, the Virtue looks down in surprise at his legs curled around him, he smiles slightly, scratching a finger over the young Archangel’s sole.

Raziel yelps, kicks, and tugs at his hair. “Don’t do that, you jerk.”

“Not sorry.”

“Jerk.” He presses his hands together. “We could keep swimming to the edge, but that could take all days, so we’re not doing that, I’m going to transport us out, grab on.”

The others nod, swimming closer, Constantine curls his fingers in the back of his t-shirt, Castiel curls his fingers in the other side, Dean Winchester grabs onto his shoulder, and the older Archangel curls his fingers around his upper arm. He nods when they’re all holding on and bows his head slightly, pulling at his grace.

Sam gasps in surprise when the younger Archangel’s eyes start glowing a silver color, and a sphere forms around them, rotating faster and faster, there’s a tugging sensation in the pit of his stomach, and then their gone.

…

They land in the war room with a large splash, soaked to the bone, Oren and Raziel grunt as they land on the cement floor. The younger angel uncurls his legs and groans, stretched them down the Virtues sides for a moment, before pressing his bare feet to the soaked wet floor, groaning again as he presses his hands to his face. “Now I remember why I hate teleporting large groups, ooowwwwww, I’m just gonna lay here for a minute or two, don’t mind me.”

Oren slowly sits up, stretching to crack his back, looking to his sides as the youth’s legs stretch out again, and takes the hand his Archangel holds out to aid him in rising to his feet. He turns, staring down at the youth as he just lays there, complaining under his breath about teleporting large groups and how much it sucks, and why he’d sworn he’d never do it again after the last time, which makes them question silently what he means by last time.

Raziel takes a moment, before sitting up, rubs at his head, and pushes himself to his feet, shaking his head to get the water out of his dripping curls, Dean Winchester curses and he smirks.

The older hunter curses again. “Good job, asshat, our floors soaking wet.”

“Oh, calm down, you big cry baby.” The blonde turns to look at him and snaps his fingers, drying the floor under them. “There.”

Raphael ruffles his baby brother’s wet blonde curls. “Let’s get changed and call on the others, I’m going to check in on Gadreel and Josiah, and when we meet here, we’ll call down the remaining four of my Virtues.” He turns to his two Virtues. “I’ll show you to your room, we’re bunking together I’m afraid, you’ll have to share with your four other brothers, if I were you, I’d make the necessary adjustments, I doubt they’ll be in the shape you two are.”

…

He’s surprised to see Gadreel sleeping soundly on his own, completely unaware that he was alone, and rolls his eyes when he hears the squeals from within Josiah’s room, he hadn’t told Thaddeus he was here, perhaps he’d gone searching on his own after his baby brother fell asleep. He opens the door slightly, to see just exactly what sort of tortures were being inflicted on the recovering angel.

He shakes his head, watching the Warden nibble on his poor victim’s toes, and pulls away, closing the door silently, he’ll leave them be, Josiah needed a bit of laughter.

…

Raziel decided to stay in his shared room with his older brother, completely worn after transporting them to Void’s domain and back with two extra persons.

Oren and Constantine lean against the edge of the library table, waiting for him to do the business of getting their other brothers to them.

He turns to his two Virtues first. “Did you make the necessary adjustments?” They both nod mutely, telling him to get along with it silently, and he smiles at their impatience to have their brothers back with them. “Good.” The Archangel closes his eyes.

Dean breaks the silence. “What’s he doing?”

Castiel turns to him. “Calling on the other Virtues.”

“But he’s not—”

“Raph?” He jumps at the voice, and they turn in it’s direction, three men stand there, one of then carrying a sleep teenager. “Is it really you?”

“Zaves,” Oren pushes himself forward, for the teenager sleeping in the one’s arms, and lifts him away, greeting them softly as he steps through them, disappearing around the corner with the youth.

Raphael smiles at them and opens his arms. “Come here, my little ones.” Akriel, Ephraim, and Zed step forward, curling around him tightly. “It’s alright now, my little ones, I’m here, I’ll take care of everything.”