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Chapter Text

The smoke had cleared and the Pagan Gods had fled, those that were still alive. The only testament of Lucifer ever being at the Elysium Hotel was a single body of a blonde-haired man framed by the charcoal black outlines of six wings. The Heavenly Father, having seen what his sons had come to, appeared as a scruffy little author and openly wept for his Messenger. “I’m so sorry, my son. I’ve let this go too far and it’s time to end this feud, ” he said as he swept his fingers over the ashen colored forehead of Gabriel’s vessel, “you have one more message to carry for me. You won’t speak, but you will be louder than the trumpets at Jericho.”

A glow, brighter than a thousand suns emanated from the Father until it filled the room. The rain outside became a deluge as thunder crashed in the sky. As quickly as it began, it ended. The sky was clear and quiet as Father held in his arms the first infant Archangel in millennia, “Welcome back, Gabriel. Peace be with you.”

.oOo.

The Winchester’s along with Castiel were gathered at Singer’s Salvage working out their final plans on stuffing Lucifer back in his cage. Now that they had the final component to the key, Death’s ring, they spent most of the day going over their options until the four of them couldn’t keep their eyes open any longer. Reluctantly, they each retreat to various places around the house to get as much sleep as they could. With Bobby in the study and the Winchester’s sharing Bobby’s regular bedroom upstairs, that left Castiel to lay awake in the last bedroom in the house. It was normally used as storage, so after some reorganization of the boxes stacked around the room, he stretched out on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

The whole concept of sleep was a terrifying prospect for him. At least while he was in his vessel. It was a totally different experience than when he was in Heaven in his own form. He could stretch out his wings and listen to the song of the spheres in his solitary nest. It was soothing to him, but this human method of sleeping was too close to death and dreams were like hallucinations. Angelic dreams were more ordered and sequential.

He laid there and mused about the differences between the two species until his eyes started to flutter shut. He had just started to drift off when he felt the mattress beside him shift, followed by a soft cooing. His eyes popped open and he turned his head quickly toward the sound, his hand automatically going to his blade. Sitting upright, with the most innocent smile, was a child… with wings. Castiel’s eyes widened further as the babe flapped the little golden wings and let out a giggle.

Shaking his head, Castiel blinked several times thinking that this was some strange new human-type dream. When the apparition didn’t disappear he realized that it was quite real. Reaching over he flicked the switch on the bedside table and examined the child under full light. Tentatively, he stroked a finger down one of the small primary feathers. Castiel recognized this coloring but he couldn’t believe it. The angel who bore those marks was dead and had been for some weeks. Leaning down, he got to eye level with the baby and let out a barely audible gasp when he saw the child’s honey-colored eyes. “Gabriel?” he whispered for fear of waking the hunters in the house. At the sound of his name, Gabriel let out a pleased, high pitch chirp that shattered the drinking glass that was on the nightstand. Castiel carefully picked up his brother and sat him in his lap, “How is this possible? Did Father - is he returning?”

Instead of an answer, Gabriel rested his head on Castiel’s chest, letting out a soft sigh as his tiny wings spread out in a posture reserved for small fledglings who’d not yet experienced the woes of the universe. Castiel shifted the child in his arms and laid back to cradle him to his chest. “Dean isn’t going to like this. But then again, Dean doesn’t like much of anything these days. You can’t blame him. It’s not been pleasant for him or Sam,” Castiel explained as if the babe would understand him.

Just as Castiel was debating whether to wake someone to inform them of this new development, his door burst open to reveal both Winchester’s clad only in boxers and shirts while wielding handguns. Dean looked around the room, his eyes landing on the child in Castiel’s grasp. Dean tightened his hold on his gun and Castiel tightened his hold on Gabriel.

“What in the hell is that?” Dean growled out a little too loudly for Gabriel’s comfort, causing the small angel to burrow his face tighter into Castiel’s overcoat.

“It looks like a baby.” Sam supplied helpfully from behind him.

“I can see that it looks like a baby. But when was the last time you saw a baby with wings?” he snapped at his brother.

Gabriel whimpered with his bottom lip jutted out as if he was on the verge of crying. “Neither of you would have had the opportunity to see a fledgling. I was the last one. So do please lower your voices. You’re upsetting Gabriel,” Castiel smoothed a hand over his wings while glaring at both men.

Dean slowly lowered his gun but didn’t loosen his grip in the slightest, “What do you mean upsetting Gabriel? Gabriel is dead.”

Castiel rolled his eyes, glancing to the heavens and silently praying to his Father for strength, “As I’m keenly aware, Dean. But be that as it may, I am holding an infant Archangel in my arms. One who with the same wing markings as Gabriel. I believe that our Father has brought him back in this form for some unknown purpose.”

“But why?” Sam asked as he pushed past Dean to get a closer look at the small being, “It’s not like his surprises in the past have been all that great. Well other than bringing you back.”

Castiel swung his legs around so he could sit on the edge of the bed, “Dean once told me that if I told him God works in mysterious ways he’d hit me. But, it would be the most logical explanation at the moment.”

“Well, that’s just wonderful, Cas. Your douchebag brother is back and to top it all off, he’s a baby. In case you haven’t noticed we’re about to face off with Lucifer. What do you expect us to do with a pint-sized Gabriel while we’re trying to put a cork in the apocalypse?” Dean asked shortly, gesticulated with his gun making the three others in the room flinch with each wave of his hand. Sam finally reached out and pushed the barrel of the gun to point toward the ground, giving his brother a scolding glare.

Gabriel sucked his thumb into his mouth and watched Dean with wide eyes while Cas’ stroked his wings, “I don’t know, Dean. What I do know is that I’m holding one of my brothers and I will not leave him to Michael’s, or worse, Raphael’s care. They would just use him to further their agenda to propel us toward the end.”

While Dean and Castiel bickered back and forth over a baby and the end times, Sam was half listening. He didn’t know what it was about the child that made so curious, maybe it was because this was a small angel, but he could help himself from touching Gabriel’s small hand with a tip of his index finger. Gabriel turned his golden eyes to Sam and gave him a gummy smile. The small wings fluttering in excitement at the person giving him attention. “Hey there little guy,” Sam whispered, the proceeded to make goofy faces causing the child to burst into giggles. After a couple of minutes, Sam noticed that the room was quiet except for Gabriel. Looking up from the baby he realized his brother and Castiel are watching them. “What? He’s kinda cute like this,” Sam said defensively.

“Glad you’re having a good time, Sammy.” Dean grumbled, “Focus.”

Sam held up his hands up in surrender and turned his attention to the adult conversation. By the end of it, Dean had capitulated to the idea of Gabriel staying with Castiel; even though he had his doubts that the Seraph didn’t know any more about kids than the rest of them. They agreed that they all needed to get some more sleep, but only after they brought Bobby up to speed. Once the bedroom door shut behind them, Castiel laid back down on the bed with Gabriel between him and the wall.

“I know it’s not a proper nest, but perhaps once we’ve stopped the apocalypse I can build you one in my favorite heaven. And then I can figure things out from there,” Castiel whispered to his brother as he smoothed the short tufts of blonde hair on his head.

Gabriel looked up at him for a moment before reaching up and patting him on the cheek with a chubby little hand. “Cas’el,” the babe said in a high-pitched, slobber filled voice. At first, the older angel was taken by surprise but then a rare smile broke out across his face.

“Yes, that’s right. I am Castiel.”

Chapter Text

Bobby swore a blue streak when he walked back into the kitchen where he’d left Gabriel just for a second. The little angel had been content with a bowl of chocolate pudding with little bits of the fruit on top. He’d even been using a spoon to shovel the treat into his mouth. Now he had a mess smeared all over his face, wings, clothes, hair and highchair tray. Gabriel took one look at Bobby and giggled, slapping his chubby hands on the gloopy tray as if to punctuate his joy. 

“Yeah, you’re a laugh riot,” Bobby grumped, snatching up the kitchen towel and attempted to clean him up. After several minutes of fighting with a very squirmy baby, Bobby gave up and picked Gabriel up out of the chair. 

He was going to kill the Winchester’s when they got back. There were more important things to be doing than watching a baby trickster with wings. 

“Bob-a,” Gabriel cooed as a sticky hand clapped him on the cheek. 

Bobby tried to keep a serious expression but when the fledgling in his arms patted his cheek again, a slow smile broke out on his face, “Okay. Save the charm for after your bath.” 

.oOo.

The bubbles were nearly up to Gabriel’s armpits even though the water was waist-deep. Bobby may have gone a little overboard with the bath foam liquid but at the moment Gabriel’s happy gibberish was more important as it allowed the older man to wash him without too much fuss. 

“You know,” he mused as he poured soapy water over Gabriel’s wings, “I wouldn’t admit this for all the bourbon in Kentucky but you’re actually cute. These wings are a pain in the ass to clean but you can’t really help all that. Can you?”

Gabriel looked up at the hunter and grinned wide before letting out an ear-piercing squeal. Slapping his hands into the water and sending a spray into the air that left bubbly foam dripping from Bobby’s beard. Cracking open his eyes after shutting them for protection, Bobby scrubbed a hand down his face. “I’m supposed to be dousing you. Not the other way around,” he said, deciding that bathtime was over and pulled the plug. 

After a quick rinse with clean water, Bobby wrapped a towel around Gabriel and carried him into the bedroom to be dried and redressed. It was a process that caused a bit of fussing on the angel’s part as he didn’t seem to care for his wings being rubbed with terrycloth. By the time they’d finished the entire process, Gabriel looked like he was heading straight for a fit, so Bobby took him into his arms and cradled him against his chest. 

Picking up the dog-eared book from the nightstand, he began to read to the fledgling in a soft voice, “Winnie-The-Pooh woke up suddenly in the middle of the night and listened.”