waiting in the wings (for Gadreel)

[tryingitall]

Heaven's dungeon is a place not of darkness, but of relentless, merciless light. Light that sears and aches in the eyes of even an angel; light that's heavy and solid, like stones poured over an already-bruised body. No one complains or begs mercy, because it's pointless. Forgiveness is for humans, not the Host. And if the wardens are a little too enthusiastic in their task of meting out divine vengeance...well, they're only following orders.

Balthazar knew all this in theory even before being imprisoned here. It was something vaguely discomforting before, just a scary story. Now he's presented with the reality, and he can't help but wonder why God ever allowed this place to be built.

He supposes it makes about as much sense as Hell. Which is to say, not enough.

There are few enough of them there. He was introduced to Gadreel within the first day. Balthazar's not good at tact, unfortunately; his first greeting was something along the lines of 'so this mess is at least partly your fault'.

But he followed that up with: 'well, shit happens. never mind.' And he hasn't mentioned it since.

Today, the wardens aren't doing their usual vicious jobs. Something's up, and tension is high all around. Meekly and quietly, Balthazar creeps through space to Gadreel's side, wings held low and submissive for the benefit of the limited number of guards still present. What he says as he settles in, though, is: "Hello, Brother! I'm bored. Have you ever played twenty questions?"

Comments

[redeemedhimself]

They will fight their way out together, his brother at his side. The affectionate gesture gets an answering flare of his Grace, eager to curl around his brother's. He nods, reaching to squeeze his hand.

"Beware of Uriel. He will not hesitate to strike you down." A warning delivered before they separate. There aren't many angels left that are aware of their surroundings, but there are enough for him to gradually begin to spread his message. Samandriel. Tophiel. Former warriors in their own right. If they can shatter a single ward - it will be enough. To fall is terrifying, but to remain in prison for eternity is a torment that none of them will abide.

[tryingitall]

"Yes...Uriel was always the ask-questions-later type," he sighs, frowning as he slips away. It's a crying shame; he likes Uriel. And Hannah, and a large number of the siblings he's about to betray by fighting and disobeying utterly.

Then again, they betrayed him and the other prisoners first.

Balthazar has never been the strongest or fastest angel, but he's one of the most cunning. One guard, he can catch alone, and steal her weapon. From there it's a matter of creating confusion. The wardens remaining are already panicky. Michael's decision, while no one has dared to say much against it, is not entirely popular. Leaving everything one has ever known is terrifying, even to an angel.

By the time Balthazar's done with his task, several guards have fled and four wardens are fighting amongst themselves, creating plenty of distraction to allow him to return to Gadreel's side.

He's bruised and molting from the conflict, but intact and armed with an extra blade, which he offers to Gadreel. "Are we ready? It will take Grace from all of us to punch through."

[redeemedhimself]

The moment Balthazar acts, Gadreel is in motion, moving among the prisoners. He knows the ones that can still act, the ones that haven't broken and they're clustered around him, harried but resolved.

He accepts the blade, fingers tight around the familiar weight in his palm. "We are with you, brother. There should be enough of us to punch through at the weakest ward."

A risky option, but it was far better than rotting in prison forever.

[tryingitall]

He looks around at the small assembly, and nods. There may be no coming back from this, and for one wild moment he wants to back out, stay here where it's familiar, if not at all safe.

And then he looks into Gadreel's eyes and his resolve hardens. His brothers are with him. With him, Balthazar, who has never stood out among the rank and file, with no great gift for battle or strategy, just a few clever tricks and a need to serve his family.

"Let's go, then. I can feel where they're fraying. Nobody's been maintaining them since the evacuations began." Eyes closing, he reaches out through the telekinetic connection the Winchesters so charmingly named 'angel radio', touches minds with the gathered siblings, and points.

It'll take a lot of strength, focused on a very small area, but Balthazar's game to lead the efforts, Grace pushing at a pinpoint spot in the web of power that holds the prison secure. Light pushing against light.

It won't take long.

[redeemedhimself]

They're all haggard, damaged, but resolved. Still angels of the Host for whatever that was worth and they would go down fighting rather than simply fading away into nothingness. Better to finally face the end on your feet.

Balthazar's grace sings along theirs, directing the flow of power against the ancient wards woven into the very fabric of the prison and Gadreel murmurs a few words of encouragement to his fading brethren as they surge forward. Light surges and crackles and for a moment it doesn't feel like the wards will break. There. The tiniest crack in the wards is enough and as the angels throw themselves forward, it all begins to unravel.

"Again!"

((Pardon the lag! RL/job stuff.))

[tryingitall]

Balthazar pushes his Grace forward, again leading the efforts. It only makes sense; he's the newest prisoner and therefore the least drained and damaged by captivity. He won't blow out the entirety of his Grace in these efforts, but he'll try to take the brunt of the risk, and do as much of the heavy lifting as he can.

"Almost..." His voice echoes over angel radio. "Try to land close together. We'll need one another."

When the wards give, there's a brief backlash, like getting hit with a fine-stranded electric whiplash. There are winces and cries of pain, and tumble of confusion, and then the bottom drops out beneath them and all the angels of their little group will either fall or fly.

Most of them are beyond flying at this point.

Below, any living humans with enough cognizance left to look skyward will see a meteor shower. Small and brief but all the brighter for that, the cluster of lights fall toward the earth in a matter of minutes. Somehow, it's a vision that feels less ominous than the skyfire caused by demonic events in the past months.

Balthazar hits the earth hard, in a Walmart parking lot at the edge of a small, dying farm town. The store has been heavily looted, and his landing leaves a huge crater in the asphalt and kicks up a shower of glass and gravel and dust. Abandoned shopping carts flip and tumble, pieces breaking off, and as the shrapnel settles, a cart wheel spins in a slow circle, losing momentum until it rattles and flops in the grass. Equally wobbly, the angel rises in a crouch, hand to his head, and looks for evidence that other siblings have landed nearby.

No worries!

[redeemedhimself]

The fall is sudden and terrifying. Gadreel can barely call his wings in time, hearing the cries of distress of the other angels as they plummet to Earth. But better to die free than languish in prison for eternity. He's too weak to catch himself and land smoothly, instead plowing into the parking lot and skidding into an overturned truck before he finally comes to a stop.

Gadreel forces his head up, taking in his surroundings. Get up. Move. He can't stay, they have to find the others.

"Nngh. Balthazar? Brother?" His voice is no more than a weak rasp.

[tryingitall]

The damage left by Gadreel's tumble isn't hard to track, even if Balthazar can't quite hear his voice from his vantage point. Like a newborn colt, he staggers up and makes a weaving, shaky path across the lot, eventually dropping to his knees again next to his brother. Reaching out, he clasps his arm with both hands and smiles weakly.

"...it worked. Are you all right?" Wait, that's a foolish question. They're none of them, technically, all right. "Do you think you can walk?"

He can't tell where any of the others have landed. It may take a while to find them.

[redeemedhimself]

It worked. They're free. Slowly Gadreel pulls himself to his feet, blinking slowly up at Balthazar. His ears are ringing and his vessel is a wash of agony, but he can move, get himself up.

"I can walk," he confirms with a raspy voice, dragging a hand across his face. "We did it. We are free." And they are in danger. It's not safe. But he.. needs a moment to simply turn his face to the sky and breathe.

"The others. Have you seen them?"

[tryingitall]

He'll answer that question in a moment, when the unpleasant roar of blood in his vessel's veins dies to a level he can think through, when the burning feeling in his wing-joints fades to something he can tolerate. When he can restrain himself from wincing at the raw scrape of Gadreel's voice.

They're free. In danger. And pretty well wrecked.

Still, he can't bring himself to regret this course of action. He takes his brother's hands, offering to help him up, and looks around them. There don't appear to be any other angels nearby, not in line of sight. They all stayed close when they fell; he can only hope that means they're all within a reasonable radius. They'll have to search.

They may end up searching until Death takes them, in fact, trying to gather fallen brethren. But maybe that's a nobler end even than fighting. Balthazar shrugs and shakes hie head regretfully. "Not yet. Just you. Let's get under cover. That crash will draw demons, and I'm not really in fighting shape yet."

[redeemedhimself]

His wings are a wash of agony and when Gadreel staggers to his feet, the pain threatens to drop him to his knees. He clings to Balthazar for a moment, resolving to ignore the pain, to set it aside. Gadreel has known torture in heaven, known pain and he will survive this as he has survived everything else.

"Inside. Perhaps we can secure the entrance long enough to rest." The store might not be ideal cover, but it has walls and can be secured and right now - that's what they require beyond supplies. Time and a chance to get their bearings after the fall.

[tryingitall]

Instinctively, Balthazar clings back. Partly he's just as in need of support, but mostly he's simply determined to protect the one sibling he has with everything he's got. He huffs a deep breath, steadying himself, and squeezes Gadreel's shoulder, nodding once more.

"As a temporary shelter, it will do. I'm not going to spend my last moments in a Wal-mart bathroom, though, so fair warning." He moves off slowly, circling around the debris they've left.

As it turns out, the glass in the doors of the building is well and truly shattered. What's inside is in terrible disrepair, but the only things alive within appear to be bugs and birds in the rafters. Balthazar pauses to pick up a tattered magazine page, eyeing the cereal advert and attached coupons blandly. "...we're going to have to get used to eating, aren't we?"

[redeemedhimself]

The contact is enough to steady them both and Gadreel limps inside with Balthazar, taking in the overturned shelves, scattered bags and bits of humanity left behind in what must have been utter chaos. How many people had tried to find shelter in here? How many left in despair?

At least the store is quiet, the only sounds were of birds and feathers ruffling high in the rafters. No immediate danger and that's the important part - shelter. "Everything that falls to human will likely fall to us. Eating. Sleeping. The need for shelter and safety."

Gadreel twists his wrist and the stolen silver sword lands in his palm with a satisfying slap. "We are not defenseless." It's not much, but it's a start.

[tryingitall]

He sets the page down on a broken conveyor belt with a sigh. "That's going to be tedious. But maybe it's fitting."

Glancing over as Gadreel draws the sword, he smiles faintly. "No. Some sort of ranged weapon will be needed eventually, but we'll manage. I think I can still make a slingshot, or a spear. I'll scrounge around a bit here after we've caught our breath."

He pauses by the customer service counter, set in an alcove deep into the building. It looks like the best shelter available for the moment, so he makes for it, peering warily behind the counter at torn chairs and broken cabinets. "...here. This can be base camp for the moment. Sit, and let me look you over; what hurts?"

[redeemedhimself]

Hardly a comfortable shelter, but it's enough for the two of them to rest for a bit, before they can get their bearings and start looking for supplies. "Perhaps there are better weapons here, or things we can make use of."

The sword disappears and Gadreel follows his brother closely towards the small alcove. "I have sustained worse in Heaven. I will recover." His wings ache, his vessel in agony, but he will survive. "I merely require rest." A curious glance. "And you? We must rest together."

[tryingitall]

"I was...going to look around for something to use as a blanket," he murmurs, feeling a bit shell-shocked still. His idea was to have Gadreel rest here while he searched around, but upon a second glance, neither one of them is in much better condition than the other.

He slides to a sitting position on the floor, scooting back so he's partly hidden behind the counter, then beckons Gadreel after him. "I'm trying to look after you, but I suppose you're right. We'll be warm enough if we stay close, and definitely safer together. I've never felt my wings ache like this."

He flexes his fingers carefully, and rolls an ankle. It pops softly, but that's just the tendons in his vessel settling. Nothing's broken. Nothing's bleeding.

[redeemedhimself]

Gadreel frowns and is clearly ready to protest until Balthazar relents and settles in beside him. Their vessels are warm, their grace sustaining them for at least the moment. “We should rest for now. If our fall hasn’t drawn attention now, then perhaps we have escaped notice for the moment.” An arm drapes around him as he draws Balthazar’s lean vessel against his broader one. The physical comfort is almost as pleasant as when they had tangled their wings together in prison. Reassurance without words. “After we rest, we will look for supplies. Food.”

His grace is scraped raw and aching, but for now intact. “We should also conserve our power. I do not know how long it will last, but it may prove useful in an emergency.”

[tryingitall]

Gadreel's vessel is broader and taller, and it never occurred to Balthazar to notice such things before. Now, gathered against his brother, he feels both smaller and more sheltered than he's used to. The touch feels pleasant, indeed, but he reddens slightly, oddly flustered.

Then he decides since the world is ending, anyway, he might as well give and get what good he can, so he slides his arm around Gadreel's waist. "...we ought to be able to run on low food supplies for a while. We might have better luck outside cities; I imagine there are infected people about, as well as demons."

"You're right, though. The less we burn, the better. I want to find the others, Cas included. After that...I don't know, we may as well just pretend to be humans until it all winds down."

He leans his head on Gadreel's shoulder, finding it at the perfect height. "We'll stay together, though. You and me, whatever happens from here?" It's half promise, half request.

[redeemedhimself]

Balthazar fits perfectly against him and Gadreel tucks him in as he slides an arm around his waist. It's different than twining grace, but it is still a comfort, still pleasant despite their somewhat bleak chances at the moment. Weariness is already threatening to overtake, his mortal body demanding rest and the soothing warmth of Balthazar tucked against him.

Gadreel turns to rest his cheek in his hair. "You and me, until the end." A promise he would never break, a brother he will not fail.

"We will rest for now, and begin our search for Castiel as soon as we are able." Together.

[tryingitall]

Balthazar's grip on his brother tightens subtly. This is a promise they would never be permitted to make, as angels in good standing. Obedient angels commit to the Divine Will, or at worst the good of the Host, not to another individual. Maybe Balthazar's more broken and willful than he thought, because the promise Gadreel has just made him sounds like everything he ever wanted, without knowing it.

Which is why he can reciprocate easily, wordlessly committing himself to a brother he barely knew up until a few short months ago. Fingers locking in Gadreel's vessel's clothing, he curls close enough that barely a breath could pass between them, and nods.

It's enough. And he'll be silent for a while, letting himself recover from the fall and hoping Gadreel can do the same.

Night falls, and there are distant sounds of marauding creatures, either low-level demons or humans far gone to the Croatoan virus. Nothing comes to their hiding place, though, and by the time dawn comes, with a light rain, Balthazar is feeling a bit more together. He sits up without letting go of Gadreel's jacket, weighing options.

He should go look around, see what they can turn up that's useful. But that would mean moving away from the warmth and comfort of bodily contact.

[redeemedhimself]

The promise would have sentenced them to the prisons all over again - to agree to stay together, come what may. Not to follow orders or obey, but a promise made to one another. Gadreel will not leave Balthazar and will not fail him. As they lay together, huddled in the growing dark, he turns his head towards the warm hair of his brother's vessel and closes his eyes.

Sleep.. is an unsettling experience to say the least. But it leaves his vessel time to heal, his grace time to recover from the fall and by the time Balthazar stirs against him, his eyes flicker open.

He doesn't want to let go, doesn't want to give up any of the contact shared between them, but they do need to prepare, to gather supplies and protect themselves. A soft, sleepy sound as he shifts against him. "We should gather what may still remain."

[tryingitall]

Balthazar has never slept before. It is a strange experience, like a half of a skip through time, but as he wakes he realizes he feels better. Good, even, considering the circumstances. Probably part of that is the fact that he's remained warm and safe in his brother's arms.

He's certainly far too sentimental, reluctant to move away. It wouldn't be so bad to spend the rest of their time like this, surely? Except they do still have other family out there, maybe in need of help, and while he'd certainly prefer they die together eventually, Balthazar concludes that he doesn't want that day to be today.

"We should," he answers with a sigh.

Sitting up creates space between them, which is unpleasant. Balthazar frowns faintly, then leans in for one last grasp at contentment before their work begins. This time, his lips brush Gadreel's in a kiss that's almost chaste, but full of emotion. "Do you feel stronger for the rest? I believe I do."

[redeemedhimself]

There is a brief, irrational desire to pull Balthazar in after such a gentle display of affection, to return the kiss and never let him go. But they have work to do, so he simply leans in to kiss him in return. "I do. The rest was helpful."

He is sure that the contact was part of the reason he'd even managed to rest. There had been little contact in prison and he was finding that touch, human touch, was just as soothing as tangling grace with an angel. With his brother.

"I will look to the left, if you take the right. We may be able to work faster and cover more ground." The store was vast and while Gadreel understood little of it, he could still recognize what would make serviceable supplies. Warm clothing. Weapons.

[tryingitall]

Irrational, or merely instinctual? Balthazar finds himself wishing they had time for a bit more kissing, as well, but it's probably not worth the risk of getting killed by demons while they dally. They can explore the possibilities later, if they find somewhere safer.

Reluctantly, but with determination, Balthazar rises and stretches, offering Gadreel a hand up. "Sounds fair. Try to stay within earshot, though; we can't be sure there's no danger in here, and we'll both have a better chance if we stand back to back against any trouble."

Sorry for the delay - RL has been swamping me lately. :/

[redeemedhimself]

They can find time for more intimate explorations later, Gadreel is certain of that. Every touch is a reassurance in a world swiftly collapsing around them. Creation was falling, but it didn't matter. They were free and they would stand together for as long as they could. Free.

He accepts the hand up, stretching out his vessel with a quiet grunt. "I will gather what supplies I can. See if you can locate any weapons. Or the food we may require." Because food was something he had never experienced and sending him after it might result in jars of capers, pancake mix and cajun seasoning.

likewise, tbh. New job. So take your time, I'll be here. :)

[tryingitall]

Balthazar's most recent earthly experience was long enough ago that some packaging may baffle him, too. But he ought to be able to figure things out well enough to refrain from making cajun caper pancakes, at least. He smiles and squeezes Gadreel's hand. "Will do. Back here in forty-five minutes."

They may not be leaving the building, but it's large enough a space that he wants to take precautions. Clambering around the customer service desk, he scans the room again. "...I just hope the place is structurally sound. But we'll see."

[redeemedhimself]

"Be careful." And he hazards another bit of contact, reaching to squeeze his hand again. Perhaps if they can find a safer place to stay for the evening, they can explore such contact further. But there were pressing matters to deal with first. Shelter. Food. Weapons.

It takes just over fifty minutes to retrieve the weapons he could find. The section said Sporting Goods and while he didn't understand what it meant, Gadreel had been able to retrieve two light metal bats, hunting knives and two sidearms he'd been able to pull from a safe in the back. He had also found warm clothes and packs to carry whatever Balthazar had located.

A good start. To whatever came next.

[tryingitall]

"Right back at you, love," he smiles at Gadreel fleetingly, then heads off in his appointed direction.

The first thing he comes to is the pharmacy section, and it's more than a little bewildering. There are plenty of medications lying around untouched, but only a few are names he recognizes from his last experience among humans. Penicillin he knows, and various pain relievers, and he manages to gather some gauze and iodine, stuffing it all into a pillowcase from the housewares section.

The food is sadly picked over. He's not entirely surprised to see it. He and Gadreel weren't the first ones to take shelter here, after all. Still, most of what's been taken was canned and dried and processed, the easiest to prepare and carry. It doesn't take him too long to scrape together some bagged lentils, rice, beans, cornmeal, even a bit of powdered milk and a jar of molasses. They'll have to experiment to figure out how to make use of them, but it's something.

He grabs a set of kitchen knives on the way back to Gadreel, and a kettle. Potential makeshift weapons, but also tools they're likely to need.

"This is going to be awkward to carry," he says as he sets his load down by the other angel's feet. "Should we make a travois or something? There's a garden section, there are probably stakes and tarps there."

[redeemedhimself]

The endearment, no matter how casual, gets a small smile in return. Yes, he would risk it all to spend whatever time they have left together with Balthazar. "I found these," he indicated the backpacks, already packed with the spare clothes, warm blankets and sleeping bags. Tents might take a little longer for them to sort out, but between them if it was needed, they could find some way to make them work.

"It should help to distribute the load while we carry the rest." They had sheltered at the store long enough, to stay longer would only hazard further attention that they did not need. "With any luck we should make good time before it grows too dark."

The travois might slow them down, but for now it was better to take more than leave behind what they might need. Once they get clear of the store and further away from where they landed, perhaps then they could spare the time to both rest and go through the scavenged provisions.

[tryingitall]

Balthazar nods in response, hastening to shift his load into equal portions, and to shoulder one of the packs Gadreel has put together. "We ought to be able to manage on sheer strength for a bit. Our Graces shouldn't drain away all at once."

He slips the kitchen knives in Gadreel's pack, keeping the kettle himself. "Do you know anything about hunting? Or wild plants? Might come in handy. I remember you can eat dandelions and nettles and berries, but I don't know about anything else."

Once they're loaded up, he heads for the entrance, intending to exit first if only to take the brunt of the risk. The lot outside is quiet, the roads empty and starting to get overgrown with weeds and vines. Their store is located by a highway, but there's little else close by save woods.