skyofdiamonds | [audio . open]

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Alexander Wilton
has opened communication!

[This call was actually supposed to be only for Gabriel, but since he's really drunk, it's going out to everyone. His voice is a little slurred, although it's still mostly intelligible.]

Do you remember flying? I think...I think that's why we fall. Flying--. Flying was our little peephole into freedom, you know. I bet Father did that on purpose. He always...always had a poor sense of humor.

[Silence.]

I flew. I think. It felt like it, anyway. Maybe I'm imagining it. I can't seeeee my wings. Of course not. I just... I wake up these days wondering why the hell I do.

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[Balthazar doesn't say another word, just hangs up the phone and downs another shot.]

[Dad damn it. It takes a couple of hours, but eventually Gabriel pulls up outside an apparently closed bar whose lights are nonetheless lit. A moment later he enters the bar with a slam of the door, glancing around for his brother.

[He's not feeling the joviality tonight. He hadn't heard much from Balthazar since the arrival in the city, and the idea that the other angel has been going out and drinking his wits away every single night? It sends shivers down Gabriel's spine.]

[Most people might jump at the sight of Gabriel barreling into the bar, slamming doors, but Balthazar is neither most people nor sober. His actions are sluggish, his glass empty. He's simply holding the glass and had not filled it in at least an hour.

Despite his brother's obvious anger, Balthazar gives a slight wave and not phased at all.]

[At the sight of Balthazar Gabriel manages to pull an utterly fake smile onto his face.]

Tag; you're It.

[He strolls over in that tense way of someone not nearly as relaxed as they're pretending they are, and after a moment's pause takes the glass out of Balthazar's hand to set it on the counter. Despite himself, his expression softens into something more tired, more sympathetic, and equally bitter.]

Come on, bro. Let's get you out of here.

[He lets the glass be taken out of his hands, his fingers sliding between themselves. He resolutely keeps his gaze away from Gabriel.]

I don't trust my legs very much. [Which is really just a long 'no.']

[Gabriel rolls his eyes, equally resolutely not commenting on the darkness and ripple of Balthazar's soul-surface and trying not to feel hurt by the fact the other angel won't meet his eyes.]

Gee, I'm surprised.

[Let's see. He could either try and carry Balthazar himself, or he could turn add wheels to the air. With a snap of the archangel's fingers the chair has changed shape, and Gabriel starts wheeling it out of the bar.]

I can't believe you right now. [And for a moment, Balthazar sounds somewhat sober. Maybe because he had stopped drinking an hour or so ago. He doesn't trust himself to get up from the chair though, sure he'll fall on his face.

There's a long, long pause before he sighs, just tired and turns his gaze over his shoulder to look at his brother.] Why are you doing this?

You can't believe me right now?

[Gabriel shakes his head, leaning on the handlebars and puffing a little to shift the chair. It takes some manoeuvring to get it through the door, but then he pulls Balthazar to a stop just outside the caravan door.]

Maybe I object to the only brother I have from my own Dad-damned universe committing suicide by alcohol.

I wasn't committing..... [Honestly, he wasn't, but he guesses it must look that way. It's true, that deep, deep, deep in him, he kind of wishes he had just stayed dead.]

Balls. [Today sucks. Yesterday sucked. Everything sucks. He just wants to be done with it all. There's no way Gabriel can care this much.] There's a reason, you know, that you can't look. I just... Even though he... I still protect him even after what he did. It's pathetic.

[Gabriel had just opened the caravan door, but now he goes very still and half-looks over his shoulder. Because he knows that feeling. Protecting brothers, even though they don't deserve it. For a moment he doesn't say anything, but then:]

Lucifer asked me to leave with him, you know. Way back when. I said no. And then I promised not to tell Michael he was planning to leave.

[And then Lucifer had attacked his brothers, murdered Metatron, and threw Heaven into war. Because Gabriel had protected him.]

[Sober, Balthazar would never had uttered a word about any of this. He would let his only (real) brother think whatever the hell he wanted about the fact that Balthazar was keeping things from him. But drunk, the blond, former angel was a little more lenient and a bit more talkative.]

I tried to stop him, Gabriel. I tried. I...I went behind his back, betrayed him.... I couldn't let him destroy himself. [He remembers the several levels of pain he had experienced when he had walked into the Winchesters' kitchen that night and uttered he was on their 'side.'] I just wanted to save him. And he...

[It sounds familiar. It sounds so painfully familiar that for a moment Gabriel doesn't register the tone of the last bit, the 'And he'. Then he does and his eyes narrow, and he crouches by Balthazar, taking the other angel's chin.]

Let me see, Balthazar.

[His tone is quiet and not commanding, but firm. Let him see your soul, Balthazar.]

[On one hand, Balthazar would rather never want to let others know how far Castiel would go to achieve his goals. How far he had gone in his insanity. He wanted to protect that image everyone had of his brother. On the other, he needed to let it go. His brothers were all killing each other. Why should Castiel be any different? And for a long moment, he almost doesn't look at Gabriel. Stubborn in his resolution to keep it all a secret.

He feels bone-tired, though, and eventually that's what drain him. He looks straight at his brother; there's no on else in the world who would understand better.]

[It's not like Gabriel even needs to look for it. The image jumps out at him almost as soon as their eyes meet--a sword, Castiel's sword, through Balthazar's chest. It's so vivid that for a moment Gabriel feels the pain of the nearly-identical wound he suffered; with a sharp breath he breaks the eye-contact, his hand automatically rising to press against his chest where Lucifer had stabbed him.

[For a moment he can't do anything, his human heart pounding in his chest like he'd just run a marathon in the desert all over again. Then he forces himself to drop it and sits back on his heels with a bitter, falsely-ringing laugh.]

So apparently we're more alike than either of us want to admit.

[Deep breath, slow exhale, and he shakes his head and rises, moving to pull Balthazar's arm over his shoulders. He needs time to process this, the fact that Castiel killed his favourite older brother. He can't--he doesn't have any other words for it just now, not with Balthazar in the state he's in. The younger angel needs his help, so he's going to give it. (Because it's nice, nice in a way he'd forgotten, to feel needed, and the last thing he wants to dwell on right now is their family problems.)]

Come on, lil bro. Let's get you inside.

[When that memory is brought straight to the surface instead of lingering in the dark place of his mind, Balthazar feels the pain as if it had happened yesterday. Somewhat dulled only by the fact that it isn't really happening, he still grits his teeth silently, his chest constricting. Everything is unnecessarily raw, his eyes beginning to sting as they water up, and Balthazar isn't very sure after all is said and done that this was a good idea.

But it's out there now. Someone else besides him knows. He supposes when he wakes up tomorrow with rational thought backing him, he'll feel better. Right now though, he doesn't dare say anything or even look at his brother again, unless he wants to look like even more of wreck. He's pliant and helpful when Gabriel gets him to stand up. He thanks everything that nothing spins.]

[It takes another bout of manoeuvring to get them both up through the door and the aisle in the caravan is hardly wide enough for the two of them. The fact that Gabriel doesn't have any chairs readily available doesn't help, either, and after a moment's pause in the doorway Gabriel snaps one up by the banked fire in the oven and guides Balthazar to it.

[He doesn't talk as he pulls down the hammock to pull out some blankets, wrap them around Balthazar's shoulders, and start looking through his cupboards for some food the other angel might be able to stomach. There isn't really anything to say; they'd both been murdered by the brothers they'd loved more than nearly anything. The Dead Angel Club. Words couldn't express enough for that, and Gabriel can't summon enough levity to talk about nothing.]

[Balthazar had never been one for awkward silences; he always had something witty to say and if that didn't work, there was always the option to just fly away. Now he really had neither. Sure, he could try to disappear, but not only would it would cowardly and dickish, he doubt he'd get farther than outside the caravan. Where he would inevitably collapse.

The younger angel had never really known Gabriel, but no one except the older brothers did. Everyone who was born after those four knew Gabriel only for his pranks and tricks, his desperate want to keep the family together after everything happened with Lucifer. Balthazar had never paid him much attention and had barely noticed when he had disappeared. Still, though, he felt that this situation had revealed more about his brother than all those years in Heaven did.]

...Thanks.

[It was true there was a distance between the archangels and their younger brothers. It was natural, given the sheer difference in power. Yet Gabriel was the only archangel who had paid his younger brothers any attention which didn't have to do with training or orders, and given he had so many younger brothers, well ... He had to prioritise. Which meant that some, like Balthazar, who hadn't needed the guidance of an elder, hadn't seen much of him at all.

[But Gabriel still knew him. He knew the names and places of all his brothers. He didn't know if Michael or Raphael could say the same. The archangel pauses in the middle of opening a pantry, half-turning towards Balthazar. It takes a moment to answer, and his tone isn't exactly bland, but carefully not putting too much emphasis on the emotion. Just in case.]

You're welcome.

[Then he pulls one of his bread-rolls out of the cupboard, one of the ones he'd made properly and without spiking only earlier that day, and puts it pointedly in Balthazar's hand.]

Now eat that or I'll be force-feeding you tabasco-spiked cookies for a month. I'll even get you a non-lethal condiment if you need it.

[Balthazar just glares at the bread-roll like it's going to eat him instead, not really trusting his stomach, but hungry due to not having ate, oh, all day. Gabriel threatening him with tainted treats breaks some of the awkwardness of the situation, but it just feels forced.]

I would just stop eating cookies.

[Not that he really enjoyed cookies that much. He was much more of a cake person. Either way, he does take a bite of the roll, testing the proverbial waters.]

I'd start force-feeding you something else.

[Gabriel's reply is prompt while he goes hunting for a glass and runs Balthazar some water, setting that down, equally pointedly, on the counter next to the other angel.]

Pies, maybe. Or cakes. Tabasco cakes. Huh, maybe I should give that a try.

[The bread is actually good. It's fresh and there's a faint taste of honey to it. Not exactly manna, but it's close.]

You're making me nu...nau...ill thinking about it. [The bread is gone rather quickly, despite his unease. It was pretty good; he'd give Gabriel that.]

That's not my fault, bro, that's the fault of the booze you've been gulping down.

[Given how fast the bread is going, by the time Balthazar's finished the first little loaf Gabriel has a second ready and puts it straight in his brother's hand.]

It was good to me going down. [The second piece he more picks at, drinking from the cup of water in between. He's not sure he should be eating anymore, or staying any longer now that he thinks about it. Surely he must be pretty pathetic to look at. He figured when he could see a little straighter he'd brave a walk back to the apartment he apparently owned.]

And then it came back to bite you in the ass.

[Gabriel watches for a minute or two longer to make sure the other angel is actually eating, then turns toward the door.]

Right. You finish that, while I find our way out of this maze you've brought us into to take you--back to Alex's apartment.

Yes, mother. [For once, Balthazar does what he's told, too exhausted to put up a fight.] I like his home. Sometimes I think I would prefer I was him. Life would be...easier.

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