paterelohim: ([god] when you do things right)
Chuck Shurley | God ([personal profile] paterelohim) wrote2010-11-08 10:01 pm
Entry tags:

for a_tricky_one

Who: God and Gabriel
When: Immediately after the events of "Hammer of the Gods"
What: Resurrection, and rare moments of active fatherhood.

With a snap and a twist, a Coyote falls dead. Anansi, the Raven, that old fool genius. The wingéd thing beyond time.

Death, it is said, is the only being older than the ever-powerful Almighty Himself. He and Death have sat down before, for the omnipotent immortal version of shooting the shit over beers, and after so much time the Horseman-who-is-so-much-more can't be said to remember whether he or the Alpha-Omega is older. There have been so many planets-galaxies-universes that the æons run together somewhat, and the original kernel of existence is but a mote in the unrelenting endlessness of time. If the Creator-that-may-not-be knows differently or can clearly recall who it was who first emerged to greet his other and equal, to begin that first of partnerships, He is not saying. Since beginningless time death has thrived in the voids and the darkness and the space between vibrant, thriving life, and God has long since forgotten how not to depend on that force which He considers to be His other half and perfect equal. By His own reckoning, He created Death, and Death will reap Him. So: nothing to remark upon. The trillions upon trillions upon countless, endless, nigh-meaningless deaths of His own worshipers and haters and the countless who never knew a kind of god have blurred into a dull throb that long since quieted to a constant, simmering, easily ignored presence. One more death, anywhere, of anything (no matter how large) is as a drop of water in the ocean.

Somewhere, Gabriel falls dead, and God takes notice.

There's a pause, a gasp, a record-scratch of time punctuated by a glass slipping from lax fingers and falling falling crash in a gorgeous Little Bang of shining glass and clear-as-crystal vodka. As a little bearded man drops His glass with a wholly ignored shatter a sheaf of papers falls from his hand, dropping neglected to the vodka spill and even a minute later, after clear alcohol has seeped into the pages and run the black ink beyond recognition He does nothing.

There's a sense of time to be understood here; a certain change of perspective part and parcel with omniscience. Time is a toy to be played with, a path to walk and cheat on and loop around, and sometimes to stop and sit in the dirt and play cards on. He is standing at a railing on the roof of a tower in a shining silver-steel-crystal city spun out into the sky where the atmosphere opens to the heaven, and Earth itself in this age is as limited as phones and radio and smoke signals once were in those sad little dark ages. It is the twilight of World War Ten and He is in the most beautiful city in the world since Pompeii; it's twenty minutes before the bars close on the eve of an election on a rainy autumn night in Bethlehem, and a baby is crying. At any moment there is Every moment, and is it a wonder that God stands to the side unmoving? To change one tiniest spark of action or thread of reality would cause a cataclysm of parental hovering and catastrophic I told you so and He can't. He was conscientiously objecting before the Quakers ever made it cool.

But in this moment a writer in Maryland stops and stares into cool nothingness, and feels a bright light go out like a physical pain that hits Him hard. Have you ever had an asthma attack? Have you ever been deprived of breath? Not just in the breathless, nervous-or-about-to-be-kissed sense; in the real, existentially terrifying sense of not knowing whether the next breath you take will be enough to keep you alive. It robs one of their feet, stability, their faith in their own body and their place in this universe, and this writer in Maryland feels that through to His bones and a deeper place that would drive most of us mad from the revelation.

Somewhere, Gabriel has died, and He has felt it. Once now He has felt and acted upon the death of an angelic child, but never- never did it feel like this, like the icy hand of death closing around his own lungs. Sometimes, interference is the only option.

He finds a thick, tangled, sticky rope of unreality and pulls.

[identity profile] 2010-11-09 03:41 am (UTC)(link)
Somewhere in the back of Gabriel's mind, he'd known it would go down like this. Why else had he given Dean and Sam that video to tell them how to shove Lucifer back in his cage? He hadn't stood a chance against his brother. He'd had one last trick up his sleeve, a last ditch effort.

But how does one trick the one person who taught you how?

He sees the blade gut him, but it takes him a moment to understand what it means. He barely even feels the pain of it, at first. The physical pain, anyway. The emotional pain of being murdered by his own brother- the one he'd planned to kill himself, was unbearable. Lucifer stands over him caught somewhere between mocking and sad. A twist of the blade, a scream, a blinding light and Gabriel feels nothing ever again.

Only... suddenly he does. He feels something so excruciating and unnatural it's near impossible to describe. It's almost like someone is attempting to pull him through the head of a pin the size of an electron.

Gabriel begins to slowly but surely exist once more and he comes into the world kicking and screaming like a newborn babe. It hurts and he has no discernible means of making it stop. The full brunt of an Archangel's scream could level an entire town, so Chuck's house didn't stand much chance. When his scream subsides, he lay on the ground unmoving, except for the rise and fall of his resurrected vessel's chest.

[identity profile] 2010-11-09 05:01 am (UTC)(link)
Gabriel hears the lullaby, as if its is at the end of a lengthy tunnel. He has the work to define the source of the familiar song. It had been ages since he'd heard it. He clawed his way into consciousnesses, his eyes blearily opening. It's bright and he has difficulty focusing on anything. But he notices the presence.

A presence he hadn't felt in thousands of years. As his vision clears, what he sees doesn't make sense, and his reborn mind is having trouble comprehending it. He's looking at Chuck Shurley. The Prophet. He'd never met him, but he knew of him. All Angels knew of the Prophets, even ones that had abandoned Heaven and impersonated pagan gods. His mouth is hoarse from screaming and he cannot speak. He barely has the strength to move, he just stares. Chuck can't be who he thinks, can he? But he has to be. And Gabriel's eyes flick through several emotions and settle on awe.

[identity profile] 2010-11-09 05:33 am (UTC)(link)
His mouth opens, and he finds he doesn't know what to say. What does one say to a father whose been absent for millennia? Gabriel knows it's him now, if the hand stroking his head weren't answer enough the sudden strength that run through him cinches it.

"He killed me."

It was hardly fitting for the first words of a reunion of this magnitude, but it had been the first thought that crossed his mind and so he spoken it.

[identity profile] 2010-11-09 05:58 am (UTC)(link)
Gabriel frowned, "I was trying to kill him... for... for people. For Sam and Dean."

He clenched his jaw. Still, knowing Lucifer had actually done it, made him want to weep. Gabriel still wasn't sure if he'd have gone through with killing Lucifer if he hadn't read Gabe's trick like a book. Part of him had wanted him to see it, so he wouldn't have to end his brother's life.

He doesn't know what to do now, staring back at Chuck. Scream at Him. Cry. Hug Him. Beg forgiveness. Ask Him why?

"Why'd you leave?"

There, he'd asked it. The most obvious question.

[identity profile] 2010-11-09 06:15 am (UTC)(link)
"But, Micheal and the others they-- they clung to your last words. Didn't care about anything but ending Lucifer. They wouldn't listen to me. I was scared..."

Tears were forming around his eyes.

[identity profile] 2010-11-09 05:21 pm (UTC)(link)
He sat there, in the arms of this Father, a place he'd never thought he'd be again. He'd never thought God would condone his actions, at least on some level. He hadn't said he'd approved of impersonating a pagan god, after all.

Gabriel shifted, so that he was sitting up more fully, but it was still painful. Everything hurt. But having Him there... it was a peace he hadn't felt in a long time, even if he couldn't really understand why He'd left-- of course, Gabriel had wound up doing much the same thing.

"I got it right?" The corners of Gabriel's mouth turned upward slightly, "Even the part about Lucifer being a 'great big bag of dicks'?"

Apparently, he was feeling better. Enough to joke, anyhow.

[identity profile] 2010-11-09 06:04 pm (UTC)(link)
He stumbled to his feet, a little wobbly at first, like he'd never actually used the limbs under him before, which in actuality, was true.

"Faint? No. I think I might vomit though, if there were actually anything in my vessel's stomach to throw up." Gabriel looked around at the destruction, with a small frown, "Did I do that?"

[identity profile] 2010-11-09 09:00 pm (UTC)(link)
Gabriel was in awe of the creation and power of his Father, that he hadn't even seen a fraction of in so terribly long. It's enough to make him want to cry, but he wants to maintain his composure. He was supposed to be tough, Loki- the Trickster, he wasn't supposed to care. Only he did care, of course. Especially, when it came to his family and most of all when it came to his Father.

Then Gabriel rolled his eyes and snorted at His comment, breaking the moment.

"I still can't believe you were Chuck... this whole time..."

He'd been right in the middle of it, having a small hand in the outcome.

[identity profile] 2010-11-09 09:22 pm (UTC)(link)
Gabriel laughed, "No, I guess not."

Just like no one expected the trickster god of being an Archangel, but he doesn't say it. He doesn't want to have to try and explain himself. What is there to say, really? He'd done it and he hadn't been all that sorry about it. Gabriel wasn't even really sorry about it now.

[identity profile] 2010-11-09 09:49 pm (UTC)(link)
Like anyone with tell you, the 'I'm not mad, just disappointed' thing hurt far worse than if the person were just pissed as Hell at you. And having that look aimed at him by his Father... it made him quail just a bit. Gabriel frowned, averting his eyes. He was certainly sorry that he'd disappointed Him, at the very least.

"What do you expect me to say...?"

Cause, honestly, he didn't have a clue what he could say that would make it okay.

[identity profile] 2010-11-10 02:15 am (UTC)(link)
He shut his eyes for moment, "I remember. But I also remember Sodom and Gomorrah. And what you made me do to the Nephilim before the flood. And your promise didn't mean nothing to me. Of course it didn't... I protect the ones that-the ones that deserve it. Maybe I started to enjoy hurting people that I felt needed a lesson... but I felt... right."

There's a twinge of 'you weren't there' in his voice. Gabriel had done what he wanted because he wasn't around to tell him what it was HE wanted.

[identity profile] 2010-11-10 02:29 am (UTC)(link)
He wants to yell at Him, but he can't. He can't even raise his voice to his Father. But he was mad, all the same.

"I attracted Sam and Dean on purpose."

He was conveniently ignoring the bit about him being a sadist.

[identity profile] 2010-11-10 02:51 am (UTC)(link)
"The first time." Gabriel wasn't looking at his Father as he spoke, his tone bitter, "Why'd you bring me back? To tell me how you blamed me for being an asshole?"

[identity profile] 2010-11-10 03:21 am (UTC)(link)
Gabriel ran a hand through his hair, giving him a side-long glance, "You let plenty of other Angels die..."

[identity profile] 2010-11-10 04:11 am (UTC)(link)
"Unless you have to? Not that I don't appreciate being alive and all... but why did I have to be back?" he turned to look at him fully, now.

[identity profile] 2010-11-10 02:18 pm (UTC)(link)
Gabriel watched him with a small frown, then he looked away.

He thought maybe he understood. God was more attached to him and the other Archangels than he was to the rest. That should make him feel good and perhaps it might have if he were more like Lucifer, but he wasn't really.

He cared about the deaths of his brothers and sisters, and He hadn't brought back them. But He'd brought back Gabriel. It almost made him feel guilty, for what had he done that was so deserving? Finally stood up for something one time in the past several thousand years?

[identity profile] 2010-11-10 02:41 pm (UTC)(link)
"Yeah... thanks." Gabriel said, lamely, while looking at the ground below his feet.

"So, what now?"

Because Gabriel certainly wasn't going back to Heaven and let's face it, he'd probably just revert back to old habits.

[identity profile] 2010-11-10 08:15 pm (UTC)(link)
"Yeah, you wouldn't want me to remember this and start spreading it around that you really are a 'slob like one of us'." Gabriel sighed through his nose.

[identity profile] 2010-11-10 08:34 pm (UTC)(link)
"I don't know that it does." Gabriel answered truthfully, because what was the point of pretending any different? He already knew was Gabe was thinking.

Gabriel wished He'd just come back. Tell them what it was that He wanted. To just fucking be there. Cause then, Hell, maybe Gabe might return to Heaven too. He loved Him. And having Him gone was like having this great big gaping hole in his chest that could never be filled. Having Him here now, and knowing he was just leaving again... it pained him almost more than have Lucifer run him through with his own blade.

[identity profile] 2010-11-10 08:59 pm (UTC)(link)
He was of two minds about it. Yes, Gabriel wanted Him around. Feeling Him watching over him, would be a comfort.

But at the same time, knowing for a fact that his Father was watching as he tricked people... it would be almost worse than when a teenager is caught masturbating by their parents.

But, no he wanted to feel Him. He wanted to know He was around. More than he really still wanted to be Loki.

Gabriel turned to look at him, his eyes a lot softer and reminiscent of the times before time, when he was younger and more shining example of a messenger of God, "Thank you, Father."