Gabriel wants to know if you're gonna eat that (just_desserts) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2014-02-10 23:10:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !complete, gabriel, michael |
Who: Michael and Gabriel
What: BEST FRIENDS Meeting.
When: Early February
Where: A coffee shop
Rating: Lowish
Status: Complete
It had taken some effort on Gabriel's part in order to get Michael to agree to seeing him -- lots of effort actually. But for the most part it had been fun effort, and a lot of internet trolling (which was, of course, one of Gabriel's favorite activities what that did not include sugar).
And at first he'd just been teasing someone who seemed too serious but now that he knew more, Gabriel wasn't really surprised that he'd wanted to hang out with Michael. His brotha from another motha.
Well sort of, anyway. That was Gabe's secret for now in any case, he didn't want the poor guy to shit out the stick up his ass on very first meeting if he could help it.
The hope for not freaking poor Michael out was clearly not completely thought out as Gabriel very literally appeared in front of the other man at their chosen meeting place of a little local coffee shop. Gabe was, simply put, larger in attitude than he was in stature. He was below average height, and flat soled tennis shoes didn't help his cause much. It didn't matter much -- he only grinned up at his newly proclaimed best friend and offered over a tin of chocolates. "Heya, dude."
Self-awareness was generally a good thing, particularly in Michael’s case. After so long serving in the marines he did feel almost naked without some sort of weapon, especially when he was out in public, but Michael knew himself. He knew for the most part that his brain tended to resemble scrambled eggs at this point. He knew a person with that sort of issue did not need access to guns or any other sort of weapon so he had done the responsible thing. He denied his impulses, which in the current situation was good news for Gabriel and himself, otherwise he would have probably pulled a ‘Dean’ and put a bullet between the archangel’s eyes on principal.
As it was he only jumped a little at the sudden appearance and let out a surprised, “Jesus Christ!” before bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He swore that he was never going to get used to that, especially if the angels all stopped being considerate and appeared to him as Gabriel just had.
“Were you trying to give me a heart attack? Don’t do that. Just- At least Samandriel doesn’t do it right in front of my face. Jesus.” At least he didn’t think he had. The last time he ‘popped in’ his arrival had blended into that ten hour blackout Michael had suffered after his last seizure. He very well could have done the same thing and Michael simply hadn’t remembered. He took a deep, calming breath and let the tensed muscles in his shoulders relax. He also took the tin of chocolates. He may have claimed online to be suspicious of anything Gabriel would offer him but he had developed a rather intense sweet tooth after waking from his coma. He simply didn’t have it in him these days to turn down anything chocolate, no matter where it came from. “Thank you. Hi.”
"Hi. Jesus is flattering and I'm sure he wouldn't mind or anything, but you can keep on calling me Gabe." The angel's smile was somewhere between charmingly honest and used car salesman.
Samandriel. Of course. He loved that kid like a little brother, but really, he just stuck his hands in every cookie jar before anyone else had a chance, didn't he? Gabe wasn't sure if he should be proud or jealous. "Samandriel was only trying to impress you with his politeness. It wears off." Gabriel rocked back on the heels of his bright red Chuck Taylor's and clasped his fingers together behind his back while looking over Michael in a way that was a complete once over and not subtle at all. Mm. Yes. Also, other different yes. Suspicions completely confirmed. Gabe would sort out his feelings over that later.
"Don't worry, buddy. If I accidentally killed you, I'd just bring you back. It's the benefit of having an angel as a bestie. And the Roma Downey jokes. Obviously. That goes without saying." Because of course it did. If you couldn't claim you were touched by an angel, you were doing life wrong as far as Gabriel was concerned.
He squinted at the other man thoughtfully for a moment, like maybe he was just looking inside of him (heh), and then shrugged, thumbing a vague gesture toward the coffee shop. "You'll have to tell me more about that," he said. "But white chocolate mochas first. Then we can trade all the gossip." He may or may not have brought nail polish.
“Unless you can sing like Della Reese let’s leave Touched By An Angel out of it. That show made my teeth hurt.” Michael muttered, frowning a little. He wasn’t exactly sure how he ought to feel under such very obvious scrutiny. The fact that this was supposedly an archangel giving him the once over didn’t help either. It felt like the shorter man was staring straight into him, like at his soul or whatever it was the angel was looking at. It was more than a little unnerving.
“Gossip? This might surprise you but I’m not exactly the most social person, so gossip tends to escape me.” That was a bit of an understatement. California was making him slightly more social though. He had gone to Lux that one night and met Samandriel, gone to mass with Ana Lucia, had visited Dean and dropped off his car, even agreed to meeting Gabriel. It was far more social than he had been the past few years in Kansas and he had only been in California since mid-December. “And please stop looking at me like that. It’s creepy.”
He was already beginning to wonder if agreeing to meet the archangel was a good idea though he didn’t say it aloud as he moved to get the door. He would probably pout at him and tell him he was being difficult or stubborn or whatever else came to his mind. Also he might try to take the chocolates back and Michael would be having none of that. It was his now. He was polite enough to let the shorter man go first though, “Lead on MacDuff.”
"MacDuff?" Gabriel grinned and practically hop skipped and jumped toward the door. He was never quite lacking in energy. "Who's that? The Crime Dog?" Okay, okay. He knew it was Shakespeare (and not even properly quoted at that!) but sounding playful was far more important to Gabe than showing off that he'd paid any sort of attention in school. That was his brothers' job.
Well. His other brother. The real one. Gosh, this was all going to get awkward eventually.
He only held the door open enough to not appear ridiculously rude before sidling up to the line at the counter. "And I wasn't looking at you creepily, I was just surveying the wreckage." He frowned over that one, too before shrugging it off for the moment. "And I've got plenty of gossip. It's what we're here for. Nor order something, s'on me, dude." He waggled his eyebrows before ordering himself something sickly sweet off the menu as well as a cinnamon roll. Whether or not he flirtatiously pulled money out of thin air from behind the barista's ear was neither here nor there. But it was awesome. Admit it.
Michael hadn’t been the best in school but he did know Shakespeare, really just Macbeth, Hamlet and King Lear if he were being honest, but he knew what he had said was a misquote. In his mind it was far better to mangle the Bard than it was to give the archangel an opening. Telling Gabriel to ‘lay on’ seemed an especially bad idea as far as he was concerned, he could only imagine the awful things the archangel would have done with that.
“The wreckage?” he clicked his tongue once in disapproval. “Sounds like you’ve been talking to Dean.” it sounded like a very Dean thing to say in regard to Michael and his injuries. It was of course possible that Gabe was just being Gabe, that the only exposure to veterans he had was Dean and thus didn’t know how to properly talk to them when in came to injuries. But given how close they seemed he was more willing to believe that Dean had told him all about his head wound and the weeks he had spent in a coma and everything else Dean knew. Michael wasn’t actually annoyed though, better he didn’t have to explain it and he would have to agree that it was a fitting description for his current state.
He ordered a salted caramel mocha and a piece of banana chocolate chip coffee cake. He didn’t argue with letting Gabe pay, after all he was the one so eager to meet up with him, why not let him pay. Of course he had to roll his eyes at the way Gabe paid, but in spite of himself he did grin a little at how much it seemed to amuse him.
Gabriel frowned and it wasn't a particularly menacing look -- really, he wasn't amazing at those unless the situation really called for one. "I talked to Dean a little. Nothing huge. Believe it or not, he can only handle me in small doses." He grabbed up his drink and his newly heated cinnamon roll and wandered off mid conversation to go find a corner seat by a window. He really liked sitting in the sunshine.
"Anyway," he went on, like he didn't care exactly if Michael was there to even listen or not. "He said you'd got hurt. I hadn't realized it was -- you know. Whatever. I guess what I'm really wondering is why after all your adorable angel conversations you still have that damage." Gabriel lacked subtlety - and his terminology was only his own. It wasn't that he didn't know how to talk to a veteran, it was that he talked to everyone as if they were exactly the same. And if he came off as insensitive when he did it? Well. He meant well anyway. Most of the time.
“Hadn’t realized it was what?” he said after collecting his coffee and his cake and joining Gabe at the table. Thankfully his ever-present headache wasn’t reacting to the sunlight today. “To a point where if I shake my head too much it starts to sound like my head is a maraca? Or just that it’s all just a mess up there? I’m alright, really, I manage pretty well.”
It wasn’t wholly a lie, as far as he was concerned he did manage well. He had paid close attention to what his doctors and physical therapists had said, learned the coping techniques, read message boards where others with similar conditions shared tips and stories. He managed just fine most of the time, but he really wasn’t okay. He was all too aware of the fact that any moment he could have a seizure or some other such episode and that would be the end of him. He wasn’t in denial at all, he just simply refused to share this fact with others.
“Samandriel did explain it.” he didn’t have to question what he meant by ‘adorable angel’, there was nothing alive that was as adorable as that angel. “He said he wasn’t sure what it would do if he tried. That it was probably safer to just keep popping in every now and then and relieving my pain for a few days than him to try to put me back together.”
The flat look that Gabriel gave Michael over that answer was completely ruined when he took a bite of his cinnamon roll, cream cheese frosting getting every single place it had no right being on his face. "Uh huh," he said, mouth full and tone vaguely disbelieving.
Then again, not everyone was as awesomely talented as an archangel, and the kid probably had a point and knew his own limitations or something. It really was like a five train pile up.
Was a five train pile up a thing? It had to be. Sure.
"Welp, you just let me know when you'd prefer something different on that front, okie dokie?" He snapped his fingers in order to make a napkin or twenty appear and wiped his mouth before moving on with obvious delight to his more sugar than coffee drink. "Can you see wings?" He asked, ever curious - and never quite stopping there. "What's your favorite color? Did you like Harry Potter or did you love it?"
Not that he liked anyone, divine or not, poking around in his well-poked brain, but given how things were he was more likely to trust Samandriel with that sort of thing. He had relieved his pain before and had claimed that he was under his protection. Not to mention he doubted the barefoot violinist was the sort to fill parking lots or swimming pools with sprinkles, or make it rain Skittles. Letting Gabe loose in his brain seemed just as wise as throwing him in a massive candy store and telling not to touch anything, it was going to end badly.
His switching topics was a little dizzying but Michael tried to focus on his toffee-flavored coffee, it seemed to keep his mind grounded enough to pick out the questions without getting lost. “I can see wings when they appear, apparently. Samandriel let me think I was hallucinating when I saw his but I did apparently see them. I used to like gold best before I was injured but now I like blue, I developed chromesthesia and when I hear music I like I usually see blue.”
The next answer would probably shock the archangel so he paused to have a drink before he answered. “I have no feelings on Harry Potter. The books were banned in my house and at my school as I was growing up. Good Catholics terrified of witchcraft, that was pretty much every adult around when it became popular. I’ve also never seen any of the movies, though when they really started coming out I was at the Naval Academy and we didn’t generally have time to run out to a theater to watch a movie.”
Ironically, letting Gabriel loose in a giant candy store and telling him not to touch anything was basically just telling him to go to work. He owned a candy store; made the chocolates and the desserts and the hard candies, toffees and taffies. Sometimes when he was bored he experimented with different things: this month was caramel corn, next month was looking to be a marshmallow kind of month. And yeah, he outsourced all the basic candies too, but most of it was his. And it was fucking good. That little tin Michael had been awarded was orgasm inducing, and Gabe was aware of it.
Whoa, off topic. The point was, he wasn't quite as irresponsible as he seemed. He supposed though, that he didn't much seem like it. And that was okay. Gabriel was more self serving most days than he was terribly empathetic. If Michael didn't want something, he wouldn't offer again. In any case, it'd hardly be a problem forever. One day Michael would be that extra stubborn eldest brother that Gabriel had both loved and hated equally, and the problem would fix itself. And when that happened -- well. Gabriel would be more than happy with I told you so.
So he dropped it, and instead sniffed slightly, nearly preening as he rolled his shoulders and popped out his wings. Six of them, large and golden -- Gabe considered them to be very impressive, really. Not that he was comparing his own to Samandriel's or Castiel's, but his were totally fucking better.
"Blue's good," he decided, tilting his head slightly to the side and considering the chromesthesia. He'd never heard of it, but that didn't stop it sounding oddly awesome instead of an affliction. Or a bit like the worlds shittiest superpower. "I like red. And orange. Thanks for asking." Loud colors, bright and stupidly cheerful. It suited.
"I'm really concerned about your pop culture knowledge," he told the other man with an expression that could get no more solemn. He couldn't even make an outburst about it. It was just too much. Too staggering. Gabriel was pretty sure his heart hurt. "Really concerned. I feel like if I stuck you and my brother in a room together the world might implode. There's no hope for him, but dear lord, Mike. Do yourself a solid and read Harry Potter. God won't mind, I promise."
“The one that’s married to Dean, right?” It wouldn’t surprise him at all to hear that there was another brother running around. He would have asked about his full family if he hadn’t been trying very, very hard to keep his eyes from popping out of his head. Samandriel’s wings had been one thing, they were beautiful and shifted between the bright colors of the dawn, but there had only been two of them. If he was counting right, which wasn’t always a certainty, Gabriel had six. Gabriel had six massive wings, golden and awe inspiring. And while Michael was still able to speak it was very clear to see that he was having a hard time not commenting on them.
Green eyes wide and staring, but very much remained in his head, briefly moved to Gabriel’s face and then back to his wings again. “Right. Yes. Harry Potter. Sure. I’ll get on that. Uh…” he had to blink a few times before he continued. “Should you, uh, have those things out in public? The little one said something about staying subtle.” It was funny to think of Samandriel as the little one given that he was taller than Gabe but he didn’t bring that up. No reason to possibly annoy the angel if his height was an issue. “Something about not being mistaken for God or letting everyone know that the Lucifer that is diddling him is apparently the real Lucifer.”
That had been quite the bombshell when he first heard it but the younger angel helped him come to terms with it. He probably should have been there to help Michael resist the urge to comment on the wings themselves because he did finally give in. “I just- They’re incredible. I can’t even… Uhm, they’re really quite magnificent.”
"Cas," Gabriel agreed, because as far as real world brothers went, that was the only one who counted these days. There were two more, but they were dicks down to the core. Cas and Gabe didn't bring them up much, nor would they even if asked, most likely. "Dean's hubby and the reason for that mark you asked about." Gabe gestured vaguely to his own shoulder in example, but didn't go any further with that thought. Might as well let poor Mikey deal with one thing at a time. Ish.
Flapping his wings in a way that was all pride and no shame, Gabe leaned forward a little until he could rest his elbows on their little table. "I'm being subtle. No one else can see them. They aren't fully manifested or anything, see?" As if to prove a point he looked over his shoulder at all the other folks in the coffee shop who were still pointedly ignoring them and talking about mustaches and ukuleles or whatever it was that young people talked about these days. Nope. No one else was staring at the gloriousness that was his golden wings.
"Thank you, though. I rather like them myself. I'd let you touch them, but I'd demand dinner first. Even I'm not that easy." Yes. He was.
Gabe paused then, eyes going wide, entirely too amused. "I'm sorry. Did you just say 'diddling'? And when you said diddling, were you seriously referring to Satan in context?"
I fucked the last angel who wanted me to touch his wings. He thought but he was very much not going to share that with Gabe. Real brother or divine brother or whatever, he was sure the archangel with the gorgeous wings didn’t want to hear about it. He himself had hit more than a few guys he had gone to school when they tried to imply that they had put their hands on his sisters, and he didn’t have the benefit of being able to bring down a holy smiting.
“Right. Okay.” he said trying to get himself used to seeing those incredible wings. “Was your brother trying to be subtle when he left that mark? Because it’s really noticeable.” He really would have to meet Castiel one day, just to see for himself what sort of man could make the supposedly once very straight Dean Winchester start batting for the other team. “Maybe he simply doesn’t have your flare for subtlety.”
He had a bite of his cake, mostly in an effort to stop himself from staring at those six wings. “Lucifer. Not Satan or the Devil, apparently. Just Lucifer.” remembering the look on Samandriel’s face when he had used ‘Devil’ was heartbreaking and he tried to push the image from his mind. “And yes. Yes I did.”
"Lucifer," Gabriel allowed the correction with some deference because it was the absolute truth. He did after all know the difference between the Morningstar and what came after. Lucifer was nothing but civil here, and he had a devastatingly nice kitchen. Man, Gabe wanted that kitchen. Well. He supposed he could have it now, but that took some fun out of the envy. "Either way. Hilarious. But yeah. He's only of the few folks that needs to keep that particular topic on the down low. Not all of us are running around diddling Lucifer." Well. He wasn't, anyway. "And even fewer are talking about it."
"And no. I don't think Cas was trying to be any kind of anything other than what he is when he did that. You know, he doesn't have much of a sense of humor or tact, but the guy takes pride in his work. When you pull a dude out of Hell, I guess you're allowed to call dibs. And Cas most definitely called dibs on Dean." Gabriel looked almost embarrassed about that. It was cute here. Endearing even. In the dreams, it was more of a wreck than should have been allowed.
Jamming another mouthful of cinnamon roll into his mouth, he rose his eyebrows. "I bet you have a metric fuckton of questions now."
“That Catholic upbringing might be rearing it’s ugly head again but I doubt anyone ‘diddles’ Lucifer. He might have been a bottom at one point but apparently he’s all top only now. Apparently it got him into trouble.” He hadn’t made that joke to the little angel when he had told him, but he had wanted to. It was terrible but that was where his mind went and really Michael so rarely made jokes. His urge to do so today was likely Gabe’s influence. He managed to press all of Michael’s buttons from the moment they started talking online.
But he was right. Michael had miles of questions. They were trying to organize themselves neatly in his mind, but Michael’s mind in general was about as straight as a circle so a few did get jumbled up. He took a long sip of his coffee, hoping the pause would cause the most important questions to rise to the surface.
It didn’t happen.
“Okay, uhm, if God created the platypus why bother creating any other sort of animal?” It was the first thing that came to his mind, likely more of Gabriel’s influence. He hadn’t actively thought of the animal in years until the archangel brought it up. His next question was genuine and serious, “Why can I see the wings of angels, and why have you and the little one been so forthcoming with information?” Samandriel had claimed it was because he was important to him, but he seemed like the sort to grow instantly attached to someone. He hoped the archangel would be able to give him better answers.
Giggling, Gabe couldn't help but clap his hands together delightedly at the joke. He'd known Michael had it in him at least a little bit -- noticed that it took a bit of time but eventually the guy warmed to moods that weren't only stoicism and good posture. "I'm keeping you," he said, wings puffed proudly.
He stuffed the rest of his pastry into his mouth while questions were thought up and then nodded thoughtfully while he chewed and then licked his fingers off at the same time.
"The platypus is my fault. Well. Australia, really. It's amazing though, isn't it? The perfect mammal. It's adorable --lays eggs, has poisony bits. Yeah. You're welcome." He might have preened more, but the next question was a good one, and Gabe actually had to lean back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. "That's a pretty deep question there, Mike. I'll tell you whatever you want if you really wanna know, I guess…. But you gotta know your boat's gonna get rocked. What'd the kid tell you?"
The little angel had said pretty much the same thing, he was seriously beginning to wonder if he ought to start worrying about these angels wanting to ‘keep’ him. He wasn’t exactly interested in a happy domestic life with a massive handprint branding on his arm like some people seemed to be. He had hoped that the golden Saint Michael medal he wore under his shirt at all times would at least do something for him, he hadn’t realized it was going to actually attract angels. He also started to wonder if he ought to keep an eye out for the archangel Michael just in case he decided to stop by and fancied a piece of him too.
He should have found Gabe’s amusement and hints of smugness annoying but he found the corners of his mouth going up in amusement. Platypuses indeed. He shouldn’t have been at all surprised by that.
He finished off his coffee and moved on to what was left of his coffee cake, shrugging a little. He wanted to know and yet he didn’t, both because of the way he sort of sensed he was being talked about by everyone he was meeting these days. It didn’t strike him as insignificant but there was always the chance that this could mean something truly terrible for him. “He basically said I’ll know what I need to know when I need to know it.”
"Really? He said that? That's like. The most cryptic shit I've ever heard." Gabriel snorted, more to himself than at Michael. "Then again, it's certainly possible that he just learned from his last mistake in this area." He scooted forward on his seat until he could pull his legs up underneath himself and hold his ankles like he was preparing himself for telling a really good story. Which he kinda was.
"You know what he did with me? Popped into my kitchen with no warning at all, spouts off some weird about how we were related, apologizes, and then tells me to go talk to my brother about seeing his wings." He held up a hand, like he wasn't done. "And I'm sitting there like 'Jesus Christ, man, how'd you get in here? Who are you? Why are you trying to tell me you don't want my chocolate?' Aah. Those were the days. Complete ignorance. It didn't last long. I think I would have preferred someone sitting me down and explaining a little better." Gabe paused, raising his eyebrow, as if to ask Get it? See what I did there? "Me and him started off on the wrong footing because of that. We're pretty cool now. It's hard not to like him what with all that endearingnessosity."
“Why wouldn’t he want your chocolate?” the question came out of Michael’s mouth before he realized he had even thought it. He really was going to have to watch himself around the archangel, he seemed to be bringing out all of his bad habits. “He didn’t say that exactly, but that was the jist of it. And then that when I started having,” he did the air quotes as he said it, “weird dreams’ to call him anytime. Because I’m going to have dreams of living another life, whatever that’s supposed to mean. But yeah, even I can tell that there are things he isn’t telling me.”
Michael may have missed a lot but even he could tell when something that obvious was staring him in the face. The only real question now was did he really want to know what all this was about. Would it upset the little angel if he found out he went to Gabe for answers? Would it ruin what could possibly happen if he knew about it before hand? Michael didn’t like uncertainty.
“Would you have prefered finding out for yourself or someone explaining it to you?” Why he wouldn’t know he was an angel Michael didn’t quite understand but if he questioned everything he had the feeling they would be stuck there for a few days. “So do you, in all your heavenly wisdom, think I need to know?”
"Because he's a freaking punk, dude." Gabriel clearly was pleased that Michael's first question was a sane and logical one: that near chocolate refusal had been a point of contention. He did a weird little sing song in a much higher tone - clearly meant to be a quote. "It's delicious but I'll never finish it." And okay, it was probably obvious that Gabe took some pride in his own work, too.
Seriously though, it was water under the bridge. But at the time? Man, what the hell even.
Licking his lips, Gabe actually took a moment to think on what he was being asked -- if this was brought up later, he would deny completely that he took a moment to actually be serious and consider the consequences of his words. But he did do those things.
"Well," he said finally, straightening up in his seat and intentionally hiding away his wings again. No distractions necessary here. "You're already in it, man. You've met me and Samandriel. You know Dean. Castiel's only a tiny step behind that. Lucifer too, probably." He shrugged, because hey, it was true. "And no matter how long it takes, you are gonna have those dreams, man. And until then, you're probably not gonna get rid of us. Sorry, it's true. On the plus side, I make great pie and candy, and Dean is actually really fucking cool so long as no one gives him a firearm." Yeah. Gabe wasn't going into that one right now.
"So. Yeah. I guess I'd wanna know if I was you. I'd be curious and feel out of the loop, and it's not fun knowing you're the person people are talking about when they go to the water cooler."
Michael got the feeling that this serious side of the archangel was rare. That he was genuinely answering his question. Michael was either grateful or worried that this was even bigger than he had first thought. He really wasn’t sure which but he wasn’t going to dwell on it, it would all really depend on what Gabriel had to say on who he was.
He was about to argue that Dean was just fine with guns, but then again there had been about a million rules and regulations about shooting your superiors. Without those regs he did gave to wonder if Dean would ever be brave enough to turn a gun on him. Neither of them would probably win that fight it it ever happened.
“Okay.” he braced himself, finding his muscles already tensing at the idea of this whole thing but he wanted to know. Gabe was right, it was no fun being the one talked about when you didn’t know why. He sat back in his chair, folding his arms. “Alright. So fill me in then, what have I gotten myself into?”
"Well, I don't know you've gotten yourself into anything, dude. Lady Gaga says we were just born this way. She's fabulous, you should probably take her word for it." Gabe unfolded himself from his chair, leaning forward again and proving just how impossible it was for him to sit still for more than a few moments at a time. He tapped his pointer finger on his own mug and then Michael's for insta-refills and then sighed.
"Okay. There's no turning back though. And don't get mad at me or anything, kay? I'm tired of being the shot messenger." Nevermind the fact that the time he was shot had nothing to do with messages and everything to do with lacking self restraint. Semantics were boring.
"You're Michael," he said, finally. And yeah, okay, that was pretty anticlimactic, wasn't it? Maybe too much. So he went on. "Like I'm Gabriel? And the kid dates Lucifer?" A pause. "Do you see where I'm going with this, bro?"
“Oh fuck off.” again it was the first thing that popped into his head because it was utterly insane. “That’s- That’s… Oh fuck off.” He had to take a drink of his newly refilled coffee, one hand on the mug, the other going to the medal he pulled from under his collar and started to fiddle with it. The more he fiddled with it the more he tried and failed to get his head around the idea that he as Michael. Eventually, after his drink, he unclasped the necklace and held it up so Gabe could see the picture on it.
It was very similar to Guido Reni’s Michael, though much smaller and done in fourteen karat gold with the words ‘Saint Michael’ ‘Protect Us’ written in semi-circles around the outside. Michael had it for years, it was a present from his mother on his tenth birthday. A birthday that also happened to be Michaelmas, or ‘The Feast of Saint Michael and the Archangels’. Thinking of it now actually turned his stomach a little, even if Gabe was messing with him, that was just a weird coincidence, as was the fact that he was only named Michael because he was born on Michaelmas.
“You’re trying to tell me that this is me?” he looked from the medal back to Gabe, a dark eyebrow raised. “That I’ve been praying to myself for over thirty years. That I am literally the archangel Michael. That’s just insane.” he shook his head. “Really, really insane. I mean, I would know right? There would have to be some hint somewhere that would tip me off.”
"That is pretty ironic," Gabriel said, squinting at the charm, but not reaching out to touch. It didn't seem like the sort of thing that was meant to be grabbed. Hey, Gabe grew up with brothers, sometimes even he knew when personal was personal. Even if he rarely paid those details any mind.
Spreading his fingers wide, the archangel shrugged lazily. "What kind of hint do you need, man? Another archangel telling you so? A firm amount of faith? Living against all odd like it's some sort of miracle?" He huffed out a laugh and leaned back in his seat again, taking his coffee with him. "You think a few months ago I thought I was any good for being Divine and Holy? I have shag carpet on my walls, man. I own a candy store. But there you have it. Your tip from a holy messenger. You're it, buddy. Real deal." A pause. "Have a chocolate, it's good for the soul."
Michael shook his head, putting the medal back on and slipping it under his shirt before without thinking he opened the tin Gabriel had given him and ate one of the chocolates. A side effect of his injuries and his nearly constant quest for order and structure, when his mind was otherwise engaged he could be very easily ordered around and he wouldn’t even realize it. But really, he needed no invitation to eat chocolate.
“It’s just-” he paused looking to Gabriel’s face with a slight surprised expression. “Hey. That was really good.” and he had to have another to make absolutely sure. Once his mouth was clear again he continued. “Anyway, it’s kind of hard to think of yourself as even remotely divine when your brain is mostly scar tissue and shrapnel. Or maybe it should be easier, whatever, doesn’t matter. I just… It’s crazy.”
It was good, wasn't it? Move the fuck over Hershey's. Gabriel only nodded wisely as if he didn't really need the compliments (but would take them anyway) and sipped at his crazy sugar coffee.
"I did offer to fix that," the archangel said, not exactly prim but probably as close as he could come to it. "But I guess -- I dunno. Everything is weird here. It's less biblical and more fucked up. Not that the bible wasn't fucked up. But Dean isn't in the bible, I paid just enough attention in church to know that one. But we all dream of him. You will too. And his ridiculously better looking brother." Sometimes you just had to get the facts out there.
Michael had to have another drink of his coffee to keep himself from devouring more of those chocolates. They were either the best thing ever because they were unbelievably delicious or they were the worst because Michael didn’t think he’d be able to stop eating them once he got started. He worked hard to keep himself fit and he really didn’t need a new thing to tempt him into overeating.
“Does Dean know he isn’t in the Bible? There was a point where he used to think he was Jesus Christ with a wrench.” Of course it came back to Dean. Of course it did. Michael hadn’t been able to escape the man lately, even if part of that had been because he initiated it by going to his shop. “But I am going to start having those weird dreams and that’s supposed to turn me into Michael? Again, crazy.”
But all the sudden something clicked in his head. The little angel had been close to tears, said things about Michael waking up different. That Michael might wake up one day and decide he wanted nothing to do with him anymore, that he could think he was a traitor for loving him. He had to mean Lucifer, the man he admitted to loving before, so if he thought Michael was Michael.... He popped another chocolate into his mouth to keep himself from frowning.
"Dude, I don't think Castiel knows Dean isn't in the bible, and he's been thumping on that book since well before he was taller than me." Forever ago. That's how long that was. Thank you kindly. "But he is pretty good with tools. Their fucking treehouse is practically a miniature house. It's disgusting and I am secretly a little jealous. Don't tell."
The archangel traced his finger absently against the woodgrain of the table and chewed at the inside of his cheek. "You won't -- I mean. You'll be you, still. You'll get some super sweet fucking powers. Some wings. Maybe you'll bring home a new point of view if you care to. I dunno. It's different for everyone. And this is gonna sound super lame, but… eh." He sighed, like he was a little embarrassed. "You've got your own life and experiences here, man. The dreams won't change that. Make sense?"
“Oh absolutely none of this makes any sense at all, but I do follow.” Perhaps that was the benefit of his head wound, it made him far more willing to accept that reality was in most cases not set in stone. After all when he heard music or people talking he saw colors, who was anyone else to tell him that the colors weren’t really there. Samandriel’s voice was shades of blue, Dean’s was orangey-red, it turned out Gabriel’s was a golden yellow, his own voice was black. How could anyone tell him that he was wrong when the colors were so beautiful?
“Wait, Dean lives in a treehouse?” That seemed odd, then again so had Dean’s marriage to a man. It was turning out that he either didn’t have the handle on Winchester that he thought or he had radically changed since he left the service. Michael was more willing to believe the second one, mostly because they had been together for years overseas, long enough to get to know each other. There might have also been a little pride mixed in there too but he wasn’t about to admit to that.
Gabriel stared for a long moment. "Why would Dean live in a treehouse? No. He built one. For my brother. Cas. Also an angel." Maybe he'd blown Mike's mind too much, and he'd only be able to handle tiny sentences from here on out. It was possible, and not exactly something he could blame the other guy with. Shit was crazy fucked up.
"Look," Gabe said, squirming further in his seat until he was hardly sitting in it at all anymore. He snapped his fingers and produced a tootsie-roll. "Are you okay? You need to sleep on this or something?"
“Yeah, I’m good.” he took a quick drink. “I have a little headache but I always have a headache so I don’t think that’s related to whatever this is. But it’s all still soaking in, you know? I mean I guess I’m grateful that you didn’t pop into my kitchen one day give me this news and then pop away, but knowing just what to think is a little difficult.” that was an understatement but Gabe probably understood that better than most. At least he wasn’t loudly freaking out, he may have been able to hide his wings but Gabe probably couldn’t hide that.
He wondered a moment or two on how the archangel was managing to say in his chair when he was sitting like that, his head tilted in what was known in the circles of those who he would soon be sharing dreams with as the ‘angel head tilt’ while he watched him. He did sort of envy the archangel’s ability to stick to chairs and make candy appear from thin air. Maybe one day, but he wasn’t going to allow himself thoughts of ‘maybe I can do that too’ just yet.
“So you make candy or chocolate by hand or do you just go all… Star Trek replicator on it like that?” if he was going to ask after his candy it only made sense to have another piece of that delicious chocolate.
"I don't pop into anyone's kitchen unless I'm planning on cooking," Gabriel assured, and it was honestly just the truth. Now, of course, he might not have mentioned that now that they were clearly the best of buddies he might drop in at any given hour day or night and get to working on a several course meal -- but that would just have to be a surprise for later. Maybe Mikey would take it better than Dean had that first time. "But I see your point. You're totally welcome on that front. Either way, it's gonna take a bit to sink in." No fixing or helping that though. Mike would just have to go with the flow. So far so good on that front.
"Ugh, god. Don't even -- I make it. By hand. It's an art, man. One I mastered well before archangel powers were even a thing." He stuck the lollipop in his mouth and dug through his pockets until he produced a business card and handed it over. "Just Desserts. Owned and operated for… jeez. Coming up to ten years now, I guess. I'll have to remember that and throw a sale. Good job on the reminder there, Mikey. Jeez. What would I do without you?"
“Buy a calendar?” He was letting Mike and Mikey slide, Gabe seemed to ignore his correction on that issue anyway, and it seemed a little stupid to annoy the archangel. If he could appear anywhere he wanted and summon candy from the aether there was a chance he could do potentially annoying things to Michael if he was given a reason. But he did seem incredibly friendly, friendly enough that Michael believed he did genuinely want to be friends before he found out about his potential archangel status.
He looked over the card before he slipped it into his shirt pocket. He had to admit, and he actually had, that Gabriel was pretty good at what he did. He would have to work out some sort of archangel delivery service with the shorter man, he was going to have to get himself more of that chocolate, that was a certainty. “But ten years, that’s pretty impressive.”
"Calendars are for the weak. Just look what happened to the Mayans." That made no sense. It was probably best to just leave it lay because there'd certainly be no making heads or tails of it. Gabe suckled happily at his candy before moving on to licking it like one might at a popsicle or ice cream cone: suggestive in a way that somehow managed to look innocent all at the same time.
"Had to start my own business though," he went on, oblivious - or at least pretending to be. Probably that. "Turns out the only person who can be my boss is myself. Crazy right? I moved out here around the same time my brother did -- someone's gotta watch him, you know? What about you? You're not from here." Gabriel really could go a mile a minute, but he meant well enough. He was genuinely curious, he did genuinely want to be friends with Michael, future brother or not. That it was wiser to do it now before Michael realized Gabe's eventual betrayal was only being factored in slightly.
Gabriel had lost him with that Mayans comment and then there was that, Michael supposed he had to classify that as a seductive look but it really didn’t suit the archangel in front of him as far as he was concerned. Something about the fact that Michael knew he had these magnificent wings and phenomenal power that made the innocent, he would call it a ‘Lolita look’, seem more than a little silly. Then again silly was the word that came to Michael’s mind most in association with him now that he was getting to know him. A single brow arched but he didn’t say anything, not wanting to encourage him.
“Uh, Kansas.” He answered the question before he fully realized that it had been one. “Topeka. A few miles down seventy, west of Lawrence.” Michael explained, assuming that Gabriel would know that it was where Dean was from. The man’s brother was married to him after all, it made sense to him that he would know. “Moved out here in December for work.”
Michael was a quick learner, apparently -- not commenting was probably as wise as one could get in terms of Gabriel's antics. He didn't exactly stop what he was doing just because he wasn't getting attention, but he did tone it down. Just a little. And since it was a chocolate flavored sucker, he saw no reason not to dip it into his coffee now and again.
"Kansas. I know it. It's a state. How fun." Gabriel didn't make it sound like it was fun, but he didn't think anyone would blame him for that. "It's better here, though, right? We don't have winter. There's also me, which I think helps things a lot. Oh! I brought you something!" The archangel snapped his fingers again and then was all but pushing a DVD box into Michael's hands. Right. Guess which one, then. "I expect a full report on this classic film."
“You’re an archangel,” At least as far as Michael was able to understand he was willing to accept he was. The ‘angel thing’ was a little easier to accept when it came to Samandriel, but he tended to look the part, at least until something dirty came out of his mouth. “Shouldn’t you be able to be anywhere, or, whatever?” He could only hope that if Gabe was being honest and he was Michael that he would have the answers he wanted when that switch got flipped. “It’s nice here, but Kansas has lower sales tax.”
He didn’t flinch at the words ‘brought you something’ even though he had wanted to. The marines had beaten out any part of him that ever tried to flinch. “Really? Are we talking a few thousand word thing, double spaced, sources cited, on your desk by next Thursday? Or just an angry ‘why did you do this to me?’ text after I finish it?”
"Just because I can be anywhere doesn't mean I want to be." Gabriel waved the idea away like it was particularly odd and he wanted nothing to do with it. Which, he thought, was fair. Wandering off to Bora Bora whenever he felt like it was one thing -- realizing exactly what was going on in Kansas at any given point was another completely.
Lower sales taxes did sort of have an appeal though. In a purely business minded sort of way. Not that Gabriel would admit to being business minded (even though the fact that he'd owned a business for over a decade rather proved that he was).
Giggling, Gabe disappeared his candy and went back to leaning on the table, all elbows and no manners. "Whichever you prefer, Mikey. You never know. You might like it." Yes. Well. That Chex commercial had to be referenced at some point, hadn't it? Might as well get it over with now. "It wouldn't shock me if you could turn an angry text into a whole essay."
The noise Michael made at the mere hint of a mention of that Life cereal commercial was pained, though he tried to drown it with a sip of his coffee. Of course Gabriel went there, of course he did. “Mic- Nevermind. And I wouldn’t hold your breath on that one, my paperwork days ended with the Marines, now if I can get by on something as short as a text I do it. But if I do feel like ranting I’ll record a message for you, I’m sure you’d get a kick out of that.”
Giving Gabe what he wanted was probably not the best idea for Michael if he wanted to get rid of the archangel, but as silly as he was Michael was actually enjoying his company aside from the whole ‘yer an angel, Mikey’ thing. He was going to try to bury that somewhere deep for now, and maybe keep it there until it happened, mostly so he wouldn’t have to talk to Samandriel about it and see those sad eyes again.
He flipped the box over in his hands, reading it. “I can’t believe this will be the first movie I’ve seen in four years. This movie.”
It was probably moot to point out that holding his breath really wouldn't do much these days considering that Gabriel no longer really needed to breathe in order to…er. Exist, or whatever. Look, there was no science to being an angel as far as he knew. Gabe just took it and ran with it and that seemed more than good enough. Don't question the crazy angel powers: just win at competitions involving holding your breath! It was very lucky Gabriel was a go with the flow sort of dude, really.
"It's not all bad," he reassured. "I mean, cinema masterpiece or otherwise, there isn't much better than watching Samuel L Jackson getting pissed off enough to throw a monumental fit. I'm not wrong." He grinned, shoes tapping out a wild rhythm on the floor. "It's like weaning yourself back into it, right? Don't think there aren't more where that one came from." His DVD collection was nothing if not massive and completely without shame.
Michael would likely attempt to watch the movie while drunk or in some other altered state if he ever did actually try to watch it. He had avoided movies and tv simply because he couldn’t predict how he would react to it. His PTE could flare up at certain types of flashing lights or certain tones, that and his shorter attention span had kept him from even attempting a movie in the years following his injuries. He had a bad reaction to the television in the hospital so he hadn’t been especially keen to attempt one before. But he might now, for Gabe and possibly for himself just to prove he could.
“Right, before things get awkward, I’m gonna put this out there. If you try to slip me porn at some point in the future, I swear to God, I’ll…” Really what could he do, Gabe was an archangel. At his best he could just annoy the guy but that was really all. It sort of put a damper on trying to threaten him. “I’ll be annoyed.”
It was certainly a possibility that if Gabriel had known that there could be a poor reaction to movie and television viewing (that wasn't 'wow that was awful', obviously) that he might not have stressed it so much. As it was, he remained completely oblivious and slightly smug.
"You'll be annoyed," he repeated, just one shade away from mirthful. "You've turned me off of the idea completely with that threat. Thank goodness you warned me in advance, man, I coulda really had it coming to me." The porn was definitely coming now. Eventually. When it would be least expected. Hopefully Michael had a fondness for Casa Erotica. Hey, it was all in good fun.
“The whole phenomenal cosmic power but itty-bitty living space thing makes it difficult to really be intimidating.” He threw out the movie reference, probably just as surprised that remembered Aladdin as Gabe would be. Surprisingly he could still remember large chunks of his childhood, though he chalked that up to living in his childhood home once he was out of recovery. Lots of smells and sounds there to remind him.
“I guess I could just stand up and cross my arms but then you’d pull out the huge wings again and here I would just be in the same place.” It wasn’t like with Dean, where he could prove himself stronger or smarter or whatever other pissing match they got into. He knew better than to try to compete with an archangel. “Seriously though, no porn please. Getting porn from an angel seems so very wrong.” Maybe not as wrong as actually sleeping with one, but he was willing to bet that the little one wasn’t the typical sort of angel.
Aladdin references earned Michael a proper guffaw, and Gabe looked more than delighted enough where he actually could no longer handle sitting. It was an issue, but one that was so him that there was absolutely no helping it at all. Hovering conveniently near seemed to be an alright substitute, so he did that instead.
"You think so? Man. I guess. I dunno. Your view on angels is really gonna change a bit if you hang out with Samandriel and me all the time. Maybe you should talk to Cas. He's good. I think he actually goes to church still." Gabe paused, considering that. "Yeah. Probably. In any case he isn't sleeping with Lucifer and I'm fairly certain he's never seen porno in his life."
God, his brother was a stick in the fucking mud.
"But fine. No porn." Gabriel held his hands up placatingly, fingers spread wide. It may or may not have been honest, but it was definitely something he'd at least think about saving off on until he knew Michael better. That seemed fair, at least.
Michael raised an eyebrow, “You make it sound like the fact that he isn’t sleeping with Lucifer is odd. Is sleeping with Lucifer like some sort of tax for living in Orange County or just one of those things expected of angels?” He honestly had a hard time believing Lucifer, even though he hadn’t met the man and had grown up hearing how evil he was, wouldn’t be satisfied with just Samandriel. But Michael was more than willing to admit that he might have been a little traditional in his definition of a relationship, he tended to believe relationships implied monogamy. He was also a man who prefered to focus on one person at a time.
“How did your brother end up with Dean, anyway? I mean, he seems… Well, I was gonna say he doesn’t seem like Dean’s type but when I knew Dean he was very much acting the straight man. Never picked up that vibe from him.” Everyone in the marines had to when they were in the service, at the time it was still something that got you discharged. But sexuality was a fluid and complex subject, and Michael himself never cared much for labels, it was entirely possible that Dean had been the same way. He definitely was going to have to meet Castiel face to face though.
Upon further contemplation, Gabriel wasn't so sure his brother wasn't sleeping with Lucifer. It wasn't as if there weren't clues. He'd just thought --
Maybe he hadn't thought.
Oh god. What if there was a sleeping with Lucifer tax to live in the OC? Gabriel had better call that guy up soon, if that was the case.
No. That was all too dramatic too fast. He'd continue to assume that it was just Samandriel and his cookie jar and go from there.
"What?" Gabriel asked, plopping back down into his chair. It was possible that archangels were prone to ADD. Or maybe just this one. "I dunno. Lucifer's cool. People just want to sleep with him I guess?" He waved it off and shrugged at the next question. "Dude. Before Dean came around I was pretty sure Cas would die alone and untouched. Don't tell him I said that." He grimaced, refilled their coffee drinks again. "The point is, I don't think it's got much to do with man bits or prior interests. They just kind of are. It's a thing. I don't think they could not be a thing. It's a little disgusting, honestly. Anyway, I dunno. Cas told me his car was on fire and then a week later he was living with the guy."
Of course it had involved a car. If Dean was involved there was also a car, one of rules of the universe as far as Michael was concerned. It was almost sweet, if that was the proper word for it. They seemed happy enough from what he was able to glean, and he figured happiness was what mattered in a marriage.
“It’s quite the weird little interconnecting family thing you’re got going here.” Michael was full of caffeine and maybe repressed nerves about his supposedly true identity, so he was speaking a little more freely than perhaps he normally would have. Though for all the times for him to be talkative while he was with Gabe was probably the best. “You and your brother are angels. Samandriel is an angel and you call him a brother too because of the divine thing, right? Then Lucifer might be considered a brother because not only is he going to marry Samandriel but he’s also divine. And then everybody dreams about Dean, who Cas is married to and who I was in the marines with.” he paused to have a long, finishing sip of his second coffee. “That’s… Something.”
"It's your weird little interconnecting family now too," Gabriel pointed out -- whether or not Michael wanted to hear that was fairly irrelevant when it came to this topic. "Maybe not exactly the same, but close. We'll be brothers, and you and Lucifer." He nodded thoughtfully. "And in a different way, you'll be just as related to Castiel and Samandriel." They were like little brothers in the Divine scheme of things. Anyone was who wasn’t that archangel status. It was hard to put to words, but it was there. And yeah, it was a little different there because Gabriel and Cas were blood related here, but semantics were for people who took notes.
"And Dean. Well. He'll be there. Same as always." Some secrets weren't his to give away, and Gabriel wouldn't have been comfortable with it anyway. "I hope you can dig it, dude. Christmas just got way the fuck more difficult."
“I’m trying to get my head around it,” he admitted. He wasn’t sure if he ever would, and something told him he would have to talk to Samandriel about it, and then maybe yell at Dean about it because yelling at Dean was very cathartic. He was also the one Michael was going to blame for all of this, not that he had really done anything but trouble always did seem to attach itself to him. “I’m not saying I’ll be at the family reunion just yet, but I’ll probably need a little time. Maybe it’ll be easier when I have those dreams everyone talks about.”
Those dreams he was actually in no way looking forward to but he had resigned himself to the inevitability of it.
“So do you hear from, uh, Dad? Or God? Or whatever you call him?” Michael had never believed that prayer really had an effect. God had a plan and did what he liked pretty much regardless of what the little people had to say about it, according to him. Didn’t stop him from praying of course, but he was curious about God and everything else he hadn’t been privy to yet.