Unexpected Advocates
"You sure you don't want to talk about it?" Dean asks as Sam cuts the wood for the fences, just like he's asked every day for the past seven weeks. "C'mon, chicks like you love gabbing about feelings and stuff." He nudges his brother's arm, hoping a little light teasing will work better than tiptoeing around it has.
"For the last time, dean. I don't want to talk about it." Sam says slowly, not looking up. "And even if I did, why the hell would I want to discuss it with you?" The hostility of the question takes Dean a bit aback.
"I'm... I'm your brother, Sam. Why wouldn't you?" Dean puts a hand on his shoulder. Sam just gives a bitter laugh and shakes his head. As if the question is too stupid to answer. Which it's not. Even if it was because of the inevitable I told you so that Dean's rather heroically held off on so far and the fact that he can't stand that bitch, it's not like they're still together. When you break up with someone you should want to trash them to high heaven with someone who never liked them to begin with.
" I'm going for a run." Sam slaps his hand away and storms off. He's been going for a run about seventeen times a day. Dean's surprised his brother's legs don't fall off. He'll get over it but it sucks seeing him like this.
"Dean Winchester." Dean turns to see Adam standing behind him. No, not Adam, Michael.
"Jesus, do you have to keep wearing that?" Dean snaps gesturing to Michael's vessel.
"I have no other options. Unless you're offering, I'd hold my complaints." The angel retorts crossing his arms. "I need to speak to you."
"Well, I didn't think you came just to look at me." Dean rolls his eyes, and leans against the saw horse. "At least I hope not." He grins, Michael is not amused. "What? What do you want?"
"I'm concerned about my sister. She has not been taking their parting well and I... I may have been responsible for their rift." The angel looks vaguely uncomfortable.
"You?" Dean raises his eyebrows at this. "He won't say what it was about, but i don't see how you could have broken them up." Michael looks away briefly, before turning back to Dean with a resigned sigh.
"I gave Sam an english copy of a Confession Gabriel made of her worst acts. I told him if he still loved her after reading it, I'd give them my blessing even going so far as to dance at their wedding."
"You can dance?" Dean of course focuses on the least relevant part of that sentence. Speaking to this one has always been as frustrating and ineffective as speaking to his little sister. Fortunately he's not quite as insufferable and refocuses on the point when Michael just gives a him a reproachful look. "So, in other words you did something really shitty to your sister and are feeling guilty. But you can't exactly un-ring that bell so you're screwed when she finds out no matter what and besides you got exactly what you wanted."
"What I thought I wanted." Michael corrects him.
"Okay, so what do you want?"
"It's possible the incidents included in the confession look worse than they are, both being phrased in the most provocative way possible and devoid entirely of context or precipitating events." Michael says though he's clearly not convinced of that himself.
"Uh-huh." Dean looks at him oddly.
"And beyond which as mortal beings you don't quite have the same perspective we do. Our long game is considerably longer than you can conceive, even my easily distractible sister's. Certain things may seem more severe when viewed merely in short term consequences. Also there's the fact that you can't always know the latent effects of all your actions. Even the most reasonable and sensible plans can fall victim to the vagueries of chance, and choatic absurd ones are no more excepted to murphy's law." He actually looks slightly pained at making these arguments, that while arguably reasonable, feel like it's being painted on.
"Okay, enough with the bullshit. You're really not good at it. And why the hell would you be talking to me about this anyway, and not Sam or Gabriel? I hated them being together as much as I thought you did. So why are you here talking to me. What do you want?"
"I want you to talk to your brother and encourage him to speak to her again at least so they can come to some better resolution to this relationship at the very least." Michael asks, absolutely hating the fact that he's doing this.
"You can't redo a break up to make it nicer, Mike." Dean sighs. Obviously the angel has never been in a relationship of any kind. "And even if you could, he won't talk to me. It's like he's mad at me for some reason. He's just mad at everything, really, and everyone. Sam, he doesn't loose his temper often, but when he does, man you do not want to be around for that."
"Raphael's the same way." Michael commiserates. "He's as slow to calm down as he is to truly upset."
"Really. Mr Cranky pants." Despite the disrespectful tone, the statement almost makes Michael smile. It's true, Raphael has been considerably more irritable with everything, to a degree usually reserved for dealing with their sister, but it's not even close to true anger. It took two entire days before he and Azrael were even on speaking terms after the argument that ended their freindship. "Well, Sam doesn't do anything but work and eat and jog and work out and train and he's just... absolutely miserable in every way possible. He hasn't even smiled since they broke up." Dean sighs. "Honestly. I'd rather have them together, than keep seeing him like this. I'm guessing Gabriel's the same way or you wouldn't be here."
"She's not speaking to anyone unless she has to, which is alarming if nothing else. She's just sulking on the throne, and won't leave it or the throne room."
"She's staying still? Man, that is worrying," Dean grimaces.
"Not entirely," Michael tightens his lips. the last time he looked in on her she was sitting in it upside down with her legs crossed. The time before that she was lying across the top of the back of it like a deflated cat, and many other undignified and inappropriate positions, as if she were a peice of trash just blown against it by an irresistible wind. "She won't eat either."
"She's an angel. She doesn't have to eat." Dean points out as if he wasn't very well aware of that fact.
"Raphael brought her some handmade caramels and fudge and various candies and she hasn't touched a single one. She also hasn't stolen any of Alex's snacks either, which is worrying her tremendously. She hasn't spoken to the girls about anything or even Raphael. It's not unusual that she wouldn't confide in me regardless of whether or not she knows of my betrayal of trust, but she would always go to him for comfort. This isn't like her. Usually when she was angry or upset, she would just act out, increase her pranks, have even less control of her tongue and it's smart remarks, but this is... extremely troubling. I didn't want this. I didn't want to hurt her this way." Michael explains further.
"I know what you mean." Dean sighs, kicking at the dirt by his feet. "And of course, there's the fact that she'll never forgive you for this when she finds out. And don't worry, I won't tell."
"Well, she will find out eventually, so if she doesn't know yet and telling her can help her and Sam reconcile, feel free. She likely won't forgive me regardless of wether they reconcile or not."
"It'll be a last resort. I do not envy you, having to deal with a pissed of Gabriel. That bitch gives me no.." Dean suddenly finds a hand on his throat, one attached to a very pissed off Michael.
"Please try to remember that you are not the only person who loves their younger siblings." He states firmly, his hand uncomfortably warm. "And at least have the courtesy not to speak of her in that manner in my presence."
"Point taken." Dean croaks. Michael lets him go. "Look, I can't help you, man."
"Do you hate her so much that you'd rather see your brother miserable alone than happy with her?"
"No, of course not. I'm not that big of a douche. But first off, this is probably her fault. Even if you did give him the book, the contents are things she herself admits to doing. If it caused a rift then she's going to have to be the one to fix it, not Sam. Secondly there is no fucking way he would ever believe I'd change my tune so quickly and trying would just make him even more pissed off with me. I know him and whatever the hell she did, there's no way i could successfully advocate for her, not with any believability, or defend her in any way because I probably would agree with him that she crossed the line. I don't know her half as well as he does, or even a fraction as well as you do." Dean shakes his head.
"No, but you know him. And in truth, Gabriel and I have never been especially close. Of all our siblings, I understand her the least." Michael confesses. "It's always been that way."
"Still, you've known her forever. I've known Sam all his life. Alright." Dean takes a breath, half wincing at whatever thought comes into his head. "Is there any way you can get her down here? If so, I'll talk to her, see what i can go to help her get her head out of her ass and make up with Sam. While I do that you go talk to my brother and plead the case for leniency or whatever."
"You want me to advocate on Gabriel's behalf?" Michael seems surprised, which he really shouldn't be.
"That's what you've been doing this entire conversation, isn't it?"
"Is it? To be honest with that one, I'm usually the prosecuter." Michael tightens his lips, and shakes his head at the thought.
"I'm impressed you ever got anything else done." Dean's response actually makes Michael smile slightly.
"She actually occaisionally forced me to get things done that otherwise would not have taken priority. She is trouble some, but she is my sister."
"Right." Dean rubs the back of his neck and looks awkwardly around the yard. "So, is there anything that actually worked to make her see reason on anything? I haven't exactly had a great success rate in dealing with her, so some advice would be greatly appreciated."
"In truth, our brother was the only one she ever really listened to with any consistancy."
"I should ask Raphael, then."
"The other brother." Michael sighs. Dean refrains from comment. "Regardless of what he taught her, the fact is he knew how to get through to her and I never have. I don't understand her anymore than I understand humanity."
"Well, don't beat yourself up on that point." Dean reaches out to reassuringly smack Michael's arm without thinking. "Not even us humans understand humanity. Anyway. Sam went for a run again. Can you get her down here? I doubt she'd willingly talk to me just because I ask. Especially if the whole things her fault."
"There is a summons, but I prefer not to do it in the open. Is there a large enclosed space ready for use?" Michael looks around at the various buildings.
"Sure. There's the gym. This way." Dean waves him over and leads him to the building. "Isn't it nice? Raphael worked with Sam on designing it. You can teach pretty much anything in here."
"I see he kept human fragility in mind in regards to safety measures." Michael nods to the thick mat.
"Well, we'll mostly be training children, so yeah, better safe than sorry.
"You need a larger open space. Raphael largely worked with fleglings not human children. They kept a tighter formation better." Michael comments. "Human children are much more contentious and less naturally disciplined as a general rule.
"And you have experience with human children?"
"Of course. Adam and Eve had quite alot to learn as did their children. They had several dozen. I taught Adam and he in turn taught Eve. They occaisionally asked for advice with their own children. In truth, the fledglings currently in the abyss currently resemble humanity the most. What activities do you have planned for their training? Will it be individual lessons or group?"
"Well, we haven't gotten quite that far yet." Dean confesses.
"The ideal tactical unity is a hundred and fifty people of varying skills and strengths." Sam hears as he searches the buildings for his brother. "If you can limit the people each person has to interact with consistently to that same number, it also leads to increased efficiency. For instance, the amount of direct superiors and direct subordinates an officer has should never exceed that amount. That allows them the ability to know them, their strengths and their weaknesses. Whether or not you can trust their judgment, when you can't, who has the better view on a certain aspect. It's not perfect of course, but better than any other I've found so far."
"So limit the school to a hundred and fifty students?"
"I'd limit the community to a hundred and fifty members. I'm not saying to turn people away, but be aware of when it's time to splinter into another group. Always try to have a redundancy of roles, as well. A second who is trained to take over if neccessary, so if you loose one your own efficiency doesn't suffer the loss. " Sam walks into the gym to see the odd sight of a whiteboard filled with basic stick figure illustrations, charts and circles and 'x'es. The floor is filled with different colored army men in various groupings.
"The greatest chaos caused in the war as by the elimination of the seraphs in charge. Those units led by those unfamiliar with them were less effective, often to a deveestating degree. Fortunately thanks to Gabriel's prank on the fifth day that led to half the batch being encased in ice at the tail ends of various meteors, we had started interunit training for them, so it wasn't as damaging as it could have been but having one or more specifically assigned multiple understudies within the units would have been better still." Michael continues. A few of the army men in each unit get stripes to match the other colors.
"Hello?" Sam reluctantly approaches them, not sure he wants to interrupt, but even more sure that the the amicable discussion will eventually deteriorate the longer it goes on.
"Oh, hey, Sam. Have a good run?" Dean looks over at him with a rather suspicious smile.
"Yes...."
"I'm glad you're back. I have a few, uh, things to take care of. Can you show Michael the playgrounds?" Dean asks. Sam just stares at them suspiciously for a minute as if trying to figure out what's going on.
"Okay...." He says slowly and gestures to the door. Michael says something quietly to Dean and hands him something before following Sam outside. "Is everything aright?"
"There's no emergency. I simply wish to speak to you." The archangel's reassurance is oddly unreassuring.
"About?"
"Your relationship with Gabriel."
"There's not really anything to talk about, Michael. I'm not even sure why you would be here to talk to me about it anyway." Is the irritated response.
"If I hadn't precipitated this by giving you her confession, I might not be." Michael admits. "But as it is, my sister is in deep emotional pain and I'm responsible."
"No, you aren't." Sam shakes his head, feeling slightly relieved at this reasonable understandable non world ending reason for Michael's visit. "We didn't end things because of anything in that book."
"Perhaps it was not the direct cause, but it's certainly prejudicial material. A composition of the worst things she's done is only half the story. Unless you also know the best things, it doesn't give a balanced view of her character."
"Michael." Sam interrupts much to the angel's irritation. "It didn't have any effect on our relationship because I didn't read it. I burned it and never told anyone you ever gave it to me, and I won't. So it's not because of that or you at all in any way. I promise. Just... go bring her some moose tracks ice cream and watch a few movies with her and she'll be fine. trust me, it's not the first break up either of us has had." He sits down on the playground bench. "And here's the playground. Standard equipment, slide, monkey bars, swings, seesaws." Sam changes the subject, only partly to avoid the twinge of concern he had at Michael's mention of emotional pain. Especially if it's bad enough that Michael would come talk to him. But it's not important. And probably not even sincere. If she really cared that much, she would have given his feelings more consideration than she did. Michael looks at him a moment before deciding to accept the temporary detour.
"You're not worried that the children will attempt to launch each other into the air?" Michael eyes the seesaw suspiciously. A question you'd expect from some one who had to raise someone like Gabriel.
"No. They're not going to be left unsupervised and they have no reason to think that they can or ever will be able to fly at any point."
"True." Michael concedes. "I don't think I'll be able to be much comfort to her, regardless of how many movies and ice cream flavors I offer her. Gabriel and I have never gotten along very well. We're too different. She's so chaotic, undisciplined, irresponsible, just utterly incomprehensible. But she's still my sister and I love her and I don't like seeing her this way, even if she is undeniably less trouble in her current state. Is there no hope of reconciliation? Nothing I can do to help the two of you come to an understanding?"
"I don't know. I doubt it. I love her, too, Michael, but it takes more than that to make this kind of relationship work. Honestly I doubt I'll live long enough for her to ever become the kind of person."Sam crosses his arms. Though the lack of a definite no is more significant than anything else he's said so far.
"What has she done to make you think she's not capable of maintaining a long term romantic relationship with you? What was the precipitating incident?" Michael prods. Sam gives a grimace at the question trying to think of the nicest way to decline to answer. "I would just like to understand the situation and she won't talk to me. I promise not to repeat anything you wish me not to."
"It's complicated..." Sam rubs the back of his neck.
"I would hardly expect anything involving my sister to be anything else."
"Really?" Gabriel looks around the wards at her feet and the ring of holy fire on the concrete floor. "You couldn't have just texted me 'hey Babe, we need to talk?' "
"Okay, first off, I will never be calling you Babe. Alright? And I did. I texted and I called first. I even frickin' prayed. But you ignored me." Dean points out and steps in front of the woman.
"That's because you are the last person I would ever have anything to say to. Especially now. What do you want? Sam and i are over. We're not getting married and probably won't even speak again. Don't even try to tell me you're not just thrilled about that." She snaps and starts tapping her foot in a restless fidget. and it's the false one which just bothers Dean to the extreme.
"It's no secret that I don't like you any more than you like me." Dean holds out his open hands. "I sincerely doubt I ever will."
"Likewise."
"But I love my brother and I don't like what I'm seeing."
"Is he okay?"
"Oh, peachy. He's reached peak happiness and complete and utter fulfillment. He's never been better or more bearable to be around."
"Can you tone down the sarcasm just a little bit?" she pinches her fingers together a withering expression on her face. "I am really not in the mood. What's mroe unless you want Cassie to have to stay in heaven indefinitely, you'll douse this and let me go back to do my job?"
"Will you just shut up and listen to me a minute?" Dean snaps.
"No. Now let me loose or I swear that as soon as I'm free I\m wiping every single impala from the face of the earth except yours and that includes junkers, molds and replacement parts. That way you can watch it slowly die and rust and fade away, or have to be replaced by foreign parts from so many other cars that eventually you won't even be able to call it an impala anymore, it'll just be some rolling monstrosity of a mongrel begging for death at each instance of engine failure. You'll envy Claire her car." This threat actually makes Dean step back a bit.
"Okay, now that's just messed up." he points accusingly at her.
"I tried being nice to you, Dean. I tried leaving you alone, and even holding my tongue. It didn't work and there's not exactly any point in doing any of that anymore, now is there?"She retorts.
"Oh,come on. You try for like a day and then start pulling crap if I don't instantly come around, or if I do anything to piss you off, or if anybody else pisses you off. What the hell did I do that made you do that shit to my car back then? Huh? Tell me." Dean demands, pointing to the wall towards where his car's parked. "Don't give me that I took my bad mood out on you bull because it was way too severe for that. I'd love to hear what you think I did because i know damn well I didn't fucking do anything."
"That's right. You didn't do anything. That was the fucking problem. Someone kidnaps your brother, drips him of his free will, intent on raping him and biding him to them for decades and you didn't do anything!"
"Wait, what?"
"Dean., you have many fine qualities in there somewhere, I'm sure, but you're a misogynistic bastard and it drives me up the damn wall. Your machismo bias runs so deep that some pathetic little gawky thing commits a major crime and violates the sanctity of your brother's very being, fully intending to work up the nerve to do so in every way possible, and you just dismiss it as not worth doing anything about." She rages. "Let me break it to you, Winchester, but most killers, rapist, abusers, and kidnappers are pathetic little broken losers. If they weren't pathetic broken losers they wouldn't do that shit. Even the ones who don't look it are. Being a pathetic broken loser is no justification for hurting other people who have never done them any harm!"
"What are you talking about? Who the hell did that to Sam? When..."
"Do you remember Sam's ex wife? Mrs. Becky Rosen-Winchester?"
"Wait, Becky? But.. she got tricked by a demon. That's not." Dean tries to reconcile his memory of the event with what she described.
"No, she told herself the lies she wanted to believe to excuse doing what she wanted to do."
"I didn't realize you two had so much in common." At Dean's comment, Babe grows very still and gets an absolutely ferocious look in her eye that makes Dean grateful that he put up the ring of holy fire before calling her. "What? Like you don't do the same damn thing for half the crap you pull. You call killing people tricks or teaching them lessons. You don't learn things when you're dead. And they're not tricks or pranks because it's not funny when people die!"
"Clearly you've never read the Darwin awards." Babe replies cooly.
"Yeah, try and deflect with a joke. Don't take responsibility for anything. Try to pretend that it was anything more than you having your own little temper tantrums, punishing us for being what your brother's were fighting over. Sure, maybe you picked the guilty ones but who the hell are you to judge any single one of us?"
"The angel of justice and judgement? I'm not just a damn messenger. There weren't that many fucking messages."
"Maybe you were before you abandoned all of heaven and your siblings, but this was while you were in hiding from everything and everyone. You don't get to ditch the responsibilities and keep the rights. Literally nothing works that way. You're not even really taking responsibility now. Sure you're around, but you do as little as possible,shove everything onto Cas and the other angels and have to be dragged kicking and screaming into making any sort of meaningful decision at all. You're trying to act like you've changed but you're still just an irresponsible coward that fo some god forsaken reason my brother loves. Now you need to shape the fuck up and make things right with him. I don't care what you have to do or if i have to pull your ass down here once a week from here to eternity until you do." Dean angrily steps forwards. The last part makes Babe draw herself up and tilt her head slightly to look at him curiously. Dean starts to feel incredibly uncomfortable and disconcerted and looks away.
"Are you trying in your own abrasively stupid way, to get me to make up and get back together with your brother?" The incredulity in her voice makes Dean feel even more out of sorts than he was before.
"He's miserable without you. He won't talk to anyone,won't do anything but work and train and shit and has been pissy as hell at me all the time. it's been weeks and hasn't gotten any better at all. Apparently you're not doing so hot yourself, either." He points out.
"Oh, yeah? ..." Her complete and utter failure at any kind of appropriate or witty response to his statement embarrasses them both.
"Look, do you love him?" Dean asks half desperately.
"Of course I love him, but that's not always enough to make a relationship work." She shakes her head and crosses her arms, looking away from him.
"No, it's not. You have to be able to work at it and admit your mistakes and apologize and try to correct them and become better and keep doing it. Im not saying change yourself into a different person, just... be a better you, the cool dude with style and a sense of humor who I occasionally start to find bearable right before you pull some shit and drive me freaking insane. I swear it's like you just know the point where I start to think maybe you're not a complete asshole and decide to prove me wrong. Anyways, I guess the question shouldn't have been, do you love him, but do you love him more than you love the parts of you that cause him pain." Dean picks up a fire extinguisher and douses the flames. "Think about that. Hard."
"You know." She starts to get a slow grin. "If we do get back together I'll be throwing this back in your face every time you get bitchy about us being together, right?"
"I'm sure you will." He sighs and puts the extinguisher back.
"Oh, and Dean? The next time you think about trapping me in holy fire, it better be to kill me." She snaps her fingers and leaves the horrified hunter in his new plush outfit, unable to take any part of it off.