Butterflies and Hurricanes

Part 3: Redemption

Part 3

Ch3: Redemption

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“We sure this is gonna work?” Sam said, as he set out a bowel of herbs and blood.


“My brother will respond, if you are the one to summon him, Samuel Winchester.”


The taller man’s face twisted. “It’s just Sam.”


Michael’s stoic intensity looked out of place on Dean’s naturally passionate face. The angel blinked. “Dean has informed me of my mistake. I apologize,” the corner of his mouth twitched upwards. “Sammy.”


Sam rolled his eyes. He struck a match, pausing for a moment to hold it over the bowel. “Well, here goes nothing.”


The archangel grimaced and turned to Gadreel. “Dean insists that I ‘juice you up’ before we continue.” Michael waved a hand. “You are released.”


Jim looked at Gadreel, just in time to see the heavenly chains shatter upon the general’s pronouncement. The angel’s wings shuddered and stretched, no longer hobbled together with celestial manacles.


“Thank you,” the prisoner breathed, inclining his head.


“It was not of my own volition, I assure you,” Michael sneered. He turned back to Sam and raised an eyebrow. “May we proceed?”


“Oh, uh, right.” The tallest Winchester fumbled with the match, and dropped it in the bowel as he chanted.


Michael’s scowl deepened as white light enveloped the other vessel.


Sam’s mouth twisted. “Uh, yeah. Hi.” Red tinted eyes traced the air. “Yes, all right? Yes.”


Grace condensed behind the taller Winchester’s eyes. The devil blinked and grimaced. “Ugg, this vessel feels so,” he shuddered, “Clean! Where can I get some demon blood?”


Michael winced as Dean began cursing vehemently in his mind. From the look on his brother’s face, Sam was treating Lucifer to the same diatribe.


Brown eyes met green in a mutual sharing of pain, before the brothers realized exactly who they were looking at. The atmosphere tensed.


“Michael.”


“Lucifer.”


“So,” the Morningstar leaned back on his borrowed hips. “Here we are.”


“I am not here to fight you, brother,” the archangel ground out.


“I didn’t think you were, what with everything going down the drain like it is. I could feel it even in the cage.” His eyes turned sharp. “Which you opened to see if I had stopped doing my job out of spite.”


“There is a vacuum of power, and all of creation is rushing to fill the void.” Michael said, green gazed focused on his brother. “The House of Our Father is crumbling. I had no other avenue to search.”


The devil looked down his nose. “It’s not like I can stop existing on purpose, though you’re right, after the first few thousand years I might have if I could. But no, I’m not the one doing this.”


Michael growled, taking a threatening step forwards. “I cannot trust your words.”


“There is no point to our fighting, if there is nothing left for me to rule after I win,” Lucifer scoffed. “So if you can’t trust me, trust my motivation.”


“Shut up, bitch.” Michael raised a hand to his mouth, as if befuddled by it’s moving without his permission.


“Jerk,” the devil shot back, equally confused.


The archangels shared a heavy look.


“Perhaps the lock has sprung loose?”


Lucifer shook his head grimly. “I entrusted the Mark to Cain, and he still lives.”


“We should never the less check,” Michael cut in. “Perhaps the Darkness has found a way to evade our defenses.”


“This reminds me of old times. You, me, running across the universe like headless chickens cleaning up supernatural messes. All that’s missing is our hunt for Father.”


A lesser glare than the one the eldest archangel directed at his brother had turned many a lesser being onto ash.


“Still, it’s worth a shot,” the Morningstar shrugged, smirking. His eyes flickered sideways to his brother. “We would need to stand beside the throne. All of us.”


Deans green eyes swirled, softening with borrowed grace, which ran much deeper than the edges of time. “I will inform Raphael to meet us there.”


The devil claims to run cold, but in that instant he froze completely, unable to move even a feather upon his thousand wings at his brother’s proclamation.


“...Truly?” His voice had not cracked like that since he was less than half a thought of celestial intent.


The general’s wings curved forwards minutely, in an instinct which, though long unused, remained never the less remembered. “Yes. Let us go home.”


Together the archangels leapt into the ether, Lucifer half a beat behind Michael, as they ascended into heaven. The duo soared through the pearly gates, turning the heads of the host as they passed. Some cried out in terror, others in wonder, more still in nameless awe.


A mote of lightening joined their flight, cautiously playing along the slipstream of its brothers, like it had not in eons.


For the first time since the Fall, the archangels gathered in the heart of the garden of heaven, each positioning themselves at a different focal point around the throne.


The very air molecules glowed and refracted with crystalline rainbows, as each raised their wings and arms to take up the burden of creation. The three corners writhed with power, and for a moment the angel’s features were overlaid with great stone coulombs and the garden arched overhead in the image of a cathedral, whose walls encompassed the confines of the creation.


All save one.


The fourth corner sagged, unsupported, pulling the roof down into the vacuous abyss.


The three archangels gaped.


“What is this?” Lucifer thundered. “Where is Gabriel?”


“Gabriel vanished thousands of years ago,” Raphael whispered. “We believed him dead.”


“Even his death could not cause this.” Lucifer indicated the hole in reality.


“But the decay would have been noticed if it began upon his vanishing,” Michael said. “This is new, no more than three earth revolutions around the sun.”


Raphael nodded. “But how have we not noticed it before now? The instant our sibling vanished, creation should have begun to slip into the abyss, not piled up as it has.”


“Look here,” Lucifer interrupted. He indicated a golden mist hovering like a dusty shadow. “This tastes of Gabriel’s grace. It’s what has been keeping the Darkness at bay.”


Michael and Raphael zeroed in on the florescent shadow.


“I cannot see where it leads,” Raphael said.


Lucifer hummed. “I recognize that warding; it’s based off of what I used to shield my forces during the battle before the Fall. No angel can penetrate it.”


“Yeah, that was really annoying,” Michael groused. Lucifer looked smug.


“I can see where it goes,” Jim chimed in. When the archangels took off, Gadreel had discreetly followed, the youngest Winchester in tow.


Miles of eyes turned down to him.


“Then it looks as though you must be the one to go, little nephilim,” Michael said.


“But.” Jim clenched his fists. “I cannot fly.”


“What does that have to do with moving through creation?” Lucifer scoffed. “Even a human soul can move through the veil. Use those arms of yours and climb!”


With a beat of his wings, the archangel blew the nephilim down against the curl of grace.


Jim screamed, claws futilely scraping for a perch against the glassy slide as he tumbled head over heels towards the earth.

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