WHO: Gabriel & Balthazar WHAT: Angel bros meeting up, chatting for the first time WHEN: December 27, 2019 WHERE: Tequila Mockingbird (Mexican Restaurant) WARNINGS: references to death, deals, violence.
In another time and place, Gabriel might have simply whipped up his own bar. There wasn’t a thing as being too careful or paranoid there. And heck, perhaps there wasn’t here, but the portal didn’t play by rules he knew, and the locals ignored everything, so there wasn’t much purpose. It wouldn’t have answered Balthazar’s curiosity about Texan margaritas either; they’d have been his. Or his idea of Texan margaritas. Same difference.
It wasn’t the place Gabriel took to impress people. No, with his wings, far better restaurants were simply a second or two away. And he hadn’t fallen from Heaven, not having been there. Not that his location at said time had been better, really. Not where he wanted to go with those thoughts. It was named as much following puns as anywhere else in town -- Tequila Mockingbird. But they had happy hour margaritas five days a week. And the food was good enough.
Gabriel’s commute across the river happened in the blink of an eye. Neon signs were in the air. Music streamed out of the joint. It was Friday, early evening, the week between Christmas and New Year’s. Real life practically didn’t exist. He went inside and took a seat at the bar until Balthazar got there. Some places were too true to hilarity only to exist because of him. It was one of them. And that lightened his spirit.
Meeting the one big brother that hadn’t threatened to smite you at least once over your considerable lifetime was a little worrying. Sure, it could go splendidly - from the way that Michael and Raphael lamented about Gabriel, Gabriel sounded like an angel he might get along with. Still, there was that ever-present doubt. If he died today, he hoped at least that Gabriel would let him drink a few margaritas first before it happened.
He appeared beside Gabriel instantly with the soft flutter of wings and glanced around. “Well, I suppose I wanted the best feel of Texas. And now I have it.” If he sounded a little judgemental, it was because he was - Balthazar was very particular. He seemed a little amused, too, like of course this is the type of place Texans would frequent.
“Should we both be wearing sombreros or something?”
Gabe chuckled. “Might be a bit too tourist-y on the nose,” he said. Which didn’t mean he was naturally against it. But considering he thought death could come up as a topic -- Balthazar dying was bad, sure, but it was worse how many more than just him had died, never mind if he asked and had to learn how few of them there still were -- they failed a vibe check. Still, not all was lost. Gabriel winked at Balthazar, and they both had cowboy hats.
Then he waved down a waitress, letting the hostess know they were ready. Tumbleweed wasn’t large enough to have a wait here. That had been more an Andy’s sushi, gyro, and whatever place thing. Mexican wasn’t nearly so all alluring where it was more common. Though the chips and salsa were always nice distractions. A reason not to sit still and serious. Gabe also ordered the margaritas for them, the largest size they came in before a pitcher. Then a pitcher for good measure.
“How’re first impressions?” Gabriel asked. His arrival hadn’t actually happened on earth. It had been a bit different.
When the waitress came over, Balthazar used his new cowboy hat to tip it in thanks as she came to take their order. Balthazar trusted in his older brothers ability to order booze - it wasn't hard, for one, and two Gabriel had always seemed like the sort from the way Michael and Raphael spoke to like the good stuff.
"You know, I tried to get Castiel to drink with me a few times. Never could get him to appreciate it." Yes, they didn't need to drink, but it was fun! Of course, Castiel had been busy with a God complex at the time.
Gabriel sighed. It was so like their siblings -- most of them, not only Castiel -- to be straight-laced, focused entirely on duty and responsibilities and being the good soldier. There was so much more to existence than that. So much more than war and fighting and death. “Can’t tell you whether he has or not some years later on,” Gabe shrugged. “He’s been all Winchester drama all the time whenever we’ve crossed paths. And…” He disliked how much quieter angel radio was, the reason it was quiet. “It didn’t come up in the ‘bringing me up to date’ summary he and Sammy gave me back in our world.” This Sam wasn’t from as far as he was. Which was fine.
He leaned back a little. “It was rather focused on the issues of the day, which hey, did you know Mary Winchester’s back from the dead in my time? Who’da guessed,” Gabe shared. More Winchesters did more good for the world. It also meant, he guessed, more drama. She had gone and gotten stuck in another dimension after all.
“Is she now?” He wondered how they swung that. He was pretty sure the Winchesters had pissed off Death enough by now and probably several reapers. It would have had to be someone big in order to do that or some terribly dangerous spell which Balthazar wouldn’t put it passed the Winchesters to do. “Wonder how long that’ll last.” He realized maybe that was a bit harsher than it needed to be a sigh. “Sorry. Still a bit annoyed with the whole Winchesters getting me killed bit.” Sure, Castiel had done the stabbing, but Dean had worn him down and used the concept of the right thing to do which normally never bothered Balthazar too much - he had been hanging around humans far too long.
“Glad to know you’re still around. There were rumours, you know. Raphael had practically be righteous when talking about your demise.” Which had rubbed Balthazar the wrong way.
Even if Mary Winchester lived out a natural length to her resurrected lifespan, it would be over pretty quick. Time just worked on a different scale after thousands of years. Which wasn’t to say it didn’t matter. But then hunters usually had shorter lifespans.
“If you’re gonna antagonize the Winchesters, it’s best you’re able to fake your own death,” Gabriel pointed out. Love ‘em, hate ‘em, nuke ‘em in the microwave, they had a good track record of fucking people up who were in the way. They had ‘killed’ Gabe twice early on after all. And Luci had once after that.
Their drinks came, and Gabriel took a long cold sip. He still wasn’t particularly comfortable with what had happened to him. Revenge hadn’t made it all better, though it helped him look over his shoulder less. Well, it had. “The rumors had it all wrong. Admittedly, I started them,” Gabriel shrugged. “Unfortunately I wasn’t just on an extended holiday. The amount of dumb shit that can happen in under a decade…” He shook his head. “Raphael’s the only one of us four chuckleheads not to have some version of him try to kill me. Pretty sure it’s cause he didn’t get the chance.” If Gabriel hadn’t sided with Raphael during that war nonsense -- and he’d been found in general -- Raphael likely would have tried. The side of Right or death and all that.
He missed Crowley.
“Faked my own death too.” Though Balthazar wondered if Gabriel already knew or not. He didn’t expect his antics to register on an archangel’s normally, but he had stolen a few of Heaven’s weapons while he ‘died’. It was one of the reasons he had been pursued by Heaven so adamantly after it was discovered he was still alive. “Should have taken a page out of your book, but I trusted Cas a little too much.” Okay, so he was fond of Castiel more than a little. He might have done the same for Anna, too, had Castiel not sent her to Heaven for reprogramming and she come back a thoughtful machine before she died.
He, too, took a long sip of his margarita. Really, it was an under-appreciated beverage. How could you hate something that came with a mini umbrella?
“How long have you been stuck here? I’m assuming there’s some time differences between here and home.”
Gabriel shrugged. “I trusted someone else too much,” he shared. It was just a matter of who. Honestly, Gabe still didn’t think he had done anything to deserve Loki’s betrayal. Lucifer hadn’t been meant to show up at the hotel, and Gabriel had planned on being long gone in case he had. But Kali and her blood magic… Well, old gods. Logic wasn’t the first thing they followed. It was what it was.
“Less than a year,” Gabriel swirled his umbrella around his drink. “Somewhere around eight months or so. I tried getting back, in the first couple weeks I was here. There’s a spell you can do…” He waved it off. “Got the help of a witch, but it didn’t do anything. This portal has a lock on interdimensional travel, so far as I can tell. You can make a pocket dimension, maybe, but not go between except when it decides you’ll go.”
Another sip. “Believe it or not, shit is worse when I’m from than when you are. Wanted to do something about it, but like I said… Hotel California,” Gabe had told Sam what he knew. But he didn’t know if Balthazar wanted to know… or whether he’d care about too much of it.
“I do believe it.” It wasn’t too hard to believe that Castiel opening and devouring the souls of Purgatory wasn’t the worst that could happen. Of course, what he did care about was how that ridiculous trench coat angel was in all of it? Had he survived? It would have been nice if someone in his unit had survived all the bullshit. “I’m assuming the world is back to apocalyptic times?” Their siblings seemed intent on having that happen, despite everything.
“It might surprise you I have no wish to go home.” It was more a sarcastic phrase than anything else. He was dead back home. Of course he wasn’t going to be eager to go experience that and then cease to exist. “But I am interested in what others have talked about - the various things that keep this place interesting.”
“Ha,” Gabe laughed sharply. He hadn’t had enough air in his lungs to be ready for that one. Apocalyptic indeed. Far more than Balthazar realized. He was not surprised dead old Dad wrote more than one draft. They weren’t supposed to mix, though. And he wasn’t sure much improved by their mixing. “We’re not the apocalypse world. We’re apocalypse averted. Apocalypse world is the real shit show.” And that, of course, was where Gabriel had been stuck.
“This ol’ chestnut?” Gabe ran a hand along the table. Sometimes this place felt as real as stuff he made. Only it hadn’t been his imagination. “Zombies. Trips to other worlds. You name it. I might not have lived through it myself, but someone here has. It’s plenty chaotic. Sometimes deadly. But we are a little harder to kill than most folks here so…” He shrugged. “Haven’t heard of an angel kicking the bucket. Just… getting sucked back through the portal.” Which was the same thing for Balthazar. Alas.
“But people sometimes come back. Toss of a coin whether they remember being here before or not.” So even if Balthazar died again. It didn’t have to be final. Plenty of people came back from the dead.
“I find myself glad not to be in Apocalypse world, then. Though I suppose I technically am to some degree. Hopefully I found a just-as-handsome vessel otherwise I’ll be highly disappointed in other-me.” He suspected, though, that other!him might also have a terrible sense of humour and other things that came with an apocalypse. Balthazar was definitely grateful for his version of the world.
“I have heard some rumours of the things that this place can get up to. Honestly, I’m happy for it so long as I don’t, kick the bucket, as you put it. Otherwise I suspect this place can become rather boring and I’ve been told I get up to no good when I’m bored.” It wasn’t his fault, though. He was just trying to make his own fun.
“You have a favourite you’ve been privy too?” He ignored the whole ‘ you could get randomly sucked back to your death at any time’ thing.
“Didn’t meet you there,” Gabe said. He hadn’t enjoyed meeting any of his siblings there that he had. Michael had been even more of a dick. Probably because doing what Daddy said hadn’t actually worked out, and he had overcommitted to it in compensation. A damn shame. And honestly, there were so many terrible things. He hadn’t gotten any information on himself either. And seeing family hadn’t given any warm fuzzy feelings; they’d all had murder in their hearts.
“Hmm.” There’d been a lot. Gabriel thought the velociraptors sounded funny. But he hadn’t been in town and some people had gotten seriously hurt. The zombies had seemed similarly fun, but he’d been consoling Aziraphale. “In June, which was pretty soon after we returned here -- There was a whole flying ship thing that’s something else. Though something we can expect a similar thing to this year, a cruise (they seem to have cruises every year). Anyway, everyone got theme music. You just went around your life, and anytime anything of some drama happened to anyone, theme music started playing. It was damn funny.” He grinned. A reminder, perhaps, that they were contained in fiction. But Gabe had already come to terms with that.
Balthazar wasn’t sure how he felt about not meeting Gabriel there. In reality, he was probably dead there too. He came to terms with his ultimate fate already, though he was still bitter about it and Castiel would hear from him should he ever show up.
“Theme music.” His lips quirked. “What was yours?” Balthazar wondered. He imagined something upbeat. “Were there words to go with it, or just jingles?” He wished he had been there for that. Perhaps it would happen again. He was alright with chaos happening as long as it didn’t overly affect him negatively.
Gabe started humming. He had recognized it and looked it up at one point. But his mind was blanking on the name. “Mostly it was just the music,” he answered. “It made people watching great. Someone’s music would start playing, and you knew it would get entertaining.” He laughed. Honestly, enough weird shit happened that people watching was a whole different sport here.
“I went on a long road trip with Sammy and a couple others at one point. Missed out on some in town adventures,” he commented. “But, I also pulled some pranks of my own this October. All voluntary stuff. It was good fun.” He paused. “Didn’t get to do the finale though. My friend -- the person it was on went back through the portal. Which, hey, they’re fine where they came from. But…” He shrugged. Everyone had stories like that. It wasn’t something special.
“As much as can go on, and there was a battle at dino land or whatever, overall it’s pretty relaxed. Not too much that can seriously hurt an angel around here.” It was a good place to be. Better than where either of them had come from.
A road trip with Sam Winchester did not sound like a pleasant event to Balthazar, but he had always been a little more partial to Dean - not that a road trip with either sounded fun, though it would probably prove eventful. He was glad that nothing really could hurt an angel here. It meant his forced retirement could actually be long-lived, hopefully.
His margarita was painfully low as he sipped at it. “Truth be told, I’m glad it’s you here than any other.” Well, maybe not Cas. “Made a lot of enemies when I left Heaven. Made a few more on Earth… fun times.” But really, it would make for some awkward reunions here.
Gabriel sighed. Lots of angels were assholes. It was hard to put down a top five list. But he missed them all. Even Metatron. And Michael. His Michael. Not that murderous bring Armageddon to all the worlds abandoned piece of shit Michael who had tried to kill him. “I’m glad you’re here,” Gabe said. “Honestly, I’d have been glad to see about anyone. Besides Luci. He just doesn’t know how to turn over a new leaf.” And he had already been up with two attempts on Gabe’s life.
“It’s impressive, somewhat, that you made so many enemies in so short a time. What was that about?” Gabe asked. He didn’t have the details. Balthazar had been too long dead to headline the summary he’d gotten from Castiel and Sam.
"Well, I did fake my own death, abandoning the cause and all that." Which made some angels annoyed. "But probably what made them angry the most was I stole some weapons on the way out…including the Staff of Moses and Lot's Salt." He shrugged like it was no big deal. "Raphael particularly wanted them and got very angry when I started to help Castiel in his endeavour to take over Heaven. Of course, then Cas went a little bit over the top." That was a surprise to Balthazar. An unfortunate surprise.
Gabriel shrugged back. They were powerful weapons. But honestly, such tools and party tricks weren’t going to determine a war between angels. That wasn’t how things went. This part had been skimmed over to much of an extent. Gabriel had read a season by season summary somewhere, on what was available. But he wasn’t so masochistic as to want to get into the dirty details of how so many of his siblings died. It wasn’t vital information over here. Just pain and suffering.
“Don’t paint a target on your back, bro,” Gabriel advised. “It’s just not worth it.” Point in case… Balthazar’s death. “What’d you want with them anyway?” They weren’t exactly the most subtle of things. As a defense, it wasn’t worth it simply because the targets they made were too large.
“I needed currency. What better than to sell big items? My plan was to get a few souls in my back pocket, but the Winchesters saw to that.” He sighed. “Ultimately it didn’t really matter, I suppose, but you can’t just fake your death and leave Heaven without a plan.” He suspected Gabriel knew this intimately. “I’d have been a fool to think I could survive on my own with all the war going on.”
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Archangels did have significantly more firepower (and horsepower, whatever) than a regular old angel. But Gabe was hard pressed to think every angel got in on this civil war action. A plan was good. But it had to be a good plan. Bad plans just went badly. Sometimes good ones too. “If you ever need to fake your own death and go on the run again, my advice is a low profile… Find stuff to hide your presence, have a vessel no one knows the face of, and lay low,” Gabe said.
His margarita was also empty. It was possibly pitcher time. “If you try to get souls, even if the big players don’t notice you, someone like Sam and Dean will. Plenty of folks don’t take kindly to deals like that. This face? It worked for me for millennia, until Luci first took a stab at me. I could change it now. Sometimes I do. But not for security reasons.” He twirled his straw idly. “Anti-angel locating rib warding? A better investment.”
Balthazar was rather vain and so his choice in a vessel. He wasn’t going to deny it and he was proud of his choice if asked. He could see the valid points that Gabriel was making, though. It was all hindsight unless things got disturbed here and suddenly Balthazar found himself on the run from Gabe himself or that other one, Aziraphale. He felt like Sam was weaker without Dean around, so he didn’t worry about the moose too much. “I guess I have plenty of time to learn from the best, hm?”
Gabe chuckled. “Sure,” he said. It was their first real conversation. Not the time for tragic backstory. Even if being in the penalty box had kept Gabe out of all the angel politics in the civil war. “Lesson number one, then, is this: help the little guy,” he went on. “Nothing attention getting. See someone’s medical bill paid off. Stop a rapist from going after more people. The kinda thing no one upstairs pays attention to. You can do a lot of good that way. And it gets overlooked by pretty much anyone else with wings.” Any one thing wasn’t much. But do it for millennia? It added up.