When Angels Fall

Chapter 22

Gabriel was reclining on the top step with a goose down pillow under his head. "I've forgotten how much I used to love laying here and watching the stars being born and dying and being reborn."

Lucifer was sitting with his back leaning against on side of a column while Michael leaned against the opposite side. "It is the one thing I missed most in the cage, the time we spent together like this quietly contemplating Dad's wonders."

"Although it was much more of a peaceful existence before Father brought Metatron." Raphael noted.

"He was a disruptive presence wasn't he?" Michael said with a sigh. "So any ideas on A) how we can convince him to tell us where Castiel's grace is or B) finding it ourselves?"

"If the suffering he endures will not move him to tell us, I don't know that he can be moved." Raphael said. "Unless he is ordered to do so by God himself."

"We could lie." Lucifer said.

"Easier said than done. We're angels, rules remember?" Michael said.

"Well it's not like some of us haven't learned to 'bend' the rules in the name of justice." Lucifer said. "Maybe we can't make him tell us; but Loki could possibly trick him into telling us."

"My pagan powers aren't really that reliable against angels. As weak as Castiel was when I stuck the Winchesters in that pocket dimension, Castiel still figured it out." Gabriel said. "It took some quick maneuvering on my part to keep him from spilling the beans and ruining all my fun."

"Knowing those two, they were probably suspicious to begin with." Michael said. "But you could create a pocket dimension which would look like heaven right?"

"Not by myself! Do you know how much power that would take?" Gabriel sputtered.

"But with help you could do it, right?" Lucifer asked.

"I suppose I could but we'd need someone with him to keep him from becoming suspicious." Gabriel frowned. "Even with help there's no way that I could create the environment and all the constructs it would take to fool him, even if he is 'human'. He's used to seeing beyond the obvious."

"Then we will need what is it the humans say? Yes, a mole!" Raphael said. "An angel regaining their power to help him 'escape' only instead of escaping, the mole would bring him to your pocket dimension."

"Damn Raph!" Gabriel exclaimed sitting up to stare at his brother. "When did you get to be so underhanded Bro?"

"If you had hung around, you would have been here to see it happen, Bro." Raphael answered.

"But we wouldn't have an experienced Trickster to dupe Metatron into spilling his secrets right now either." Lucifer said. "I did teach you all of your tricks, so I'll give you a hand."

"I have learned a few things since you left you know." Gabriel said. "So I guess it's time for me to teach you a few new tricks."

Michael got to his feet. "Lucifer you and Gabriel figure out how you're going to put your little pocket dimension together. I'm going mole hunting."


Abaddon looked at the creature in front of her and snarled. After all of her efforts to resurrect Mary Winchester, she had succeeded in accomplishing a resurrection and totally drained herself in the process only to find that the body in Mary Winchester's grave was not Mary Winchester. It wasn't even a woman. It was a cross dressing abomination that called itself 'Spicy Tabasco'. To make matters worse it was already well on it's way to becoming a demon, having sold it's soul to Crowley years ago.

The most annoying thing was that it was now following her around, criticizing Abaddon's wardrobe, Abaddon's makeup and Abaddon's hair. Abaddon had planned to raise a hostage and instead she had raised a personal stylist that had decided that Abaddon was its very best girlfriend.

"Come on doll! That black leather and red hair is so 1960's Emma Peel. You need to update your look. I died in the year 2000 and your look was dated then. Just put yourself in my hands, and I guarantee your own mother wouldn't recognize you!" The thing said.

Abaddon stopped then turned around slowly with a smile spreading across her face. "Perhaps you can be useful after all. Yes a new look for the Winchester boys would be perfect!"


"This just sitting here while Abaddon is raising hell? We could be halfway to Lawrence right now." Dean said as he sat another box aside."

"That eager to die Squirrel?" Crowley asked. "I mean Abaddon only has a freaking army with orders to terminate all Winchesters on sight. You so much as set foot outside of this place and every demon from hell is going to show up looking for a reward."

"Crowley is correct Dean. Abaddon will not hesitate to send all the forces of Hell after you." Castiel said. "And I do not need my grace to decipher the thoughts in your head. You take off by yourself and leave Sam here and you simply become a hostage for her to use against him. It is best to wait until the Archangels have a plan. They are best equipped to deal with her."

"Yeah, well they need to come up with a plan already. People are dying!" Dean yelled.

"They are aware of that, but they will not be goaded into making a premature move." Castiel jumped up onto the counter to rest for a few moments. "The others need time for their grace to be restored. We will need an equal force if we are to have any chance of winning against her."

Sam sat a box to the side and leaned against the wall. "What I don't understand is why Lucifer hasn't simply gone and taken over hell. He's the king right?"

"He is an exiled King." Crowley said. "The minute he was tossed in the cage he lost control, do you think that I could have taken over if he was in charge?"

"If that's the case, why all the Apocalypse crap." Dean asked.

"Lilith, Azazel, Meg; call them traditionalists. They wanted the old regime in power, hence they were willing to do whatever was necessary to free Lucifer and see him back on the throne."

"So Abaddon is a traditionalist?" Sam ventured.

"Wrong moose, Abaddon is a patriot. She serves hell itself." Crowley said. "She doesn't care about tradition or anything else other than what gains hell more power. She didn't interrupt your little ritual to save the king of hell or because she was worried about me as it's ruler. It was all about keeping you from slamming the door. And to be honest at this point she doesn't give a rat's ass about Lucifer except as a martyr for the cause." Crowley slid another box out of the way before adding over his shoulder, "Lucifer is many things but stupid is not one of them. I'm sure that he knows exactly where he stands right now with her. Who do you think made it look like he died in the cage? It's better to let people think that you are dead than to allow them to actually make you dead."


Michael made his way to the basement room where Metatron was trying to find the least painful position to lie in with Verchiel's help. Michael watched for a second and then ordered the Seraph to leave.

"I must say that you look more comfortable than when I last saw you. I'm rather surprised. I half expected them to dump you somewhere and let you suffer." Michael reached out a finger brushing a bandage. "And here you are you wounds dressed, ensconced in a soft bed. You should be thankful for what little comfort that they offer."

Michael pulled the chair closer to the bed ad sat down. "I however can make you pain end here and now. You know what it will take. Simply tell me where you have hidden Castiel's grace."

"The fact that only I know where his grace is" Metatron gasped. "Is the only reason that I'm still alive."

"You know you are only making it worse on yourself." Michael said. "Perhaps another day of agony will loosen your tongue." Michael said as he stood up. "You know you should also consider this, the gracelink has been reestablished. The Seraphs will soon have the entirety of their grace back and her you lie helpless. The one responsible for their misery."

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