Title: Seraphs and Phoenix Wings (1/?)
Author: daksgirl
Rating: Mature, NC-17 later on for mature themes, violence and the like. I am incapable of writing PG apparently.

Pairings:None this chapter, but this story will have Dean/Castiel in it. Might have some slight Sabriel as well, but not graphic. Just a heads up!
Genre: Family/ Drama
Spoilers: All season 5 and 6 just to be safe. This chapter is roughly set after 'Changing Channels' then veers off heavily into AR territory.
Warnings: Blood this chapter, slight cursing. Eventually this story will have other warnings, but I'll warn for them at the beginning of each chapter.

Word Count: 2,817 (WIP)
Summary: A story about dysfunctional angel families and father issues. Team Free Will + Gabriel are looking for a way to stop the devil, but Lucifer has his own dark agenda. The horsemen aren't impressed but don't have much choice, the demons are clueless, and Raphael is put out. And why is Lucifer so interested in Castiel?

A/N:. This story is continuing pretty much right after my drabble "Of Seraphs and Men" so I strongly encourage you to read that first because I set the scene on angel families that will be playing a major part of this story. This is going to be a pretty big story, an alternate Season 5 and 6 with elements of both. There will be dark themes, happy themes, humor, angst, h/c, you name it I'll probably be putting it in. But the underlying plot is definitely centered on angels, Lucifer, and a different interpretation of angel mythology. Anyways, on with the story! Hope you enjoy :)


Normally, Bobby's house was a safe, quiet place that the Winchesters could return to and try to forget the fact that the apocalypse was in full swing. It was the closest thing they had to a permanent home and its owner the closest thing they now had to a father. It was their sanctuary when shit got too hot, the hunts too rough, or life got too hard.

Today, it was anything but quiet.

Sam buried his face further into the protective fold of his arms on the desk, as the loud clanging in the kitchen continued. Dean was slumped in a chair across from him, a beer bottle held loosely in his hand, staring at War's ring on the mahogany table and pointedly ignoring the commotion. Sam sighed heavily as Bobby's gruff voice competed with the noise in the kitchen as the hunter discovered the noisy intruder.

"Git your feathered ass away from my cupboards you overgrown pigeon!" Bobby bellowed. "Last time you fiddled around in here all I could find was candy and syrup for a week!"

There was a burst of louder clanging, and the scuffing of feet.

"You say that like it's a bad thing!" Another voice said, closely followed by the unmistakable sounds of Bobby chasing someone around his kitchen.

The clanging stopped, and Sam raised his head curiously just in time to see Gabriel hurry into the study, winking mischievously at him. Sam groaned, dropping his head back onto his arms as Dean snorted.

The archangel had healed Bobby's legs without a second thought, and the Winchester's were grateful for it, really they were, but the angel seemed more trouble than he was worth half the time. Already they had woken up to various pranks; food was constantly turning into sweet things, Sam's clothes were always two sizes too small, Dean's shampoo bottle had mysteriously turned into a rather annoyed ferret one fateful day, and whoopee cushions seemed to be under every chair cushion in the house.

If Dean didn't dislike the angel so much, he would have been best friends with him.

"Not all of us want diabetes within an hour Gabriel," Sam grumbled, his voice muffled in his arms.

The archangel shrugged, giving Sam's hair a cheeky ruffle as he moved by. "Spoilsports."

Castiel was silently leaning against the wall, eyes still trained on War's ring. Gabriel headed towards his side, and Dean watched them curiously out of the corner of his eye. Since Gabriel had decided to join their little rag-tag team, Cas didn't go flying off nearly as often. Instead they both stuck around, Gabriel making their lives just that bit more difficult and Cas…well.

Dean would deny it to his dying day, but it was nice to have the angel around, helping out. Since their little run-in with Raphael, Dean had started to look at the angel differently. He wasn't just a dick with wings anymore, he was a hunter like them, with opinions and quirks and vices. He was a friend. Maybe the first one Dean had had in…well ever. And with Gabriel around, Castiel's grace wasn't as weak as it had been before, and that could only be a good thing. Dean didn't want to see the angel head down the 'stoned out of my mind' route Zachariah-the colossal prick-had shown him.

Gabriel nudged up against Castiel's side with his shoulder, and the younger angel smiled slightly, turning his focused gaze over to his brother. Dean tried to ignore the sudden stab of jealousy. The two were brothers right? Brothers always shared a type of secret communication, hell he and Sam had one too. So angels communicated by staring at each other like weirdoes. Fine no big deal.

Except….that was his and Cas's thing. Staring.

Wonderful, he was that annoying kid on the playground who never shared their toys with the other kids. Great.

After communing together silently for a moment, Gabriel moved away from Castiel to look curiously at the gaudy ring on the desk. Bobby had been keeping the ring in the panic room, but had brought it out to show the archangel now he had joined them. Dean hadn't really thought about it, but that was War's ring. A freaking horseman of the apocalypse. What the hell were they going to do with it?

"Huh. I kinda expected it to be…shinier," Gabriel mused, reaching out with a finger to poke it cautiously.

Sam raised his head to look at it, grimacing. His hair was getting long now, and the younger Winchester blew it out of his eyes irritably. "So what now? What do we do with it?"

Castiel moved away from the wall, hands buried in his trench coat. "More importantly; why is Lucifer summoning the horsemen?"

"Well it's the end of the world," Bobby grumped as he strode into the room, shooting a dark look at Gabriel who smiled weakly at him. The hunter shooed Sam away from the desk, studying the various dusty tomes he had gathered there from beneath the frayed visor of his cap. "I can't find much information on horseman rings in the texts. Nothin' that makes sense at least."

Gabriel shook his head, studying the ring with a frown. "You probably wouldn't. The horsemen exist mainly as incorporeal entities. This is the first time they've become corporeal in this plane of existence. Question is why. Why is Lucifer is tethering them to him?" He picked up the ring, hefting the weight of it in his palm. "The power of horsemen is represented in their rings. I'd bet money that Lucifer wants this baby back. Without it, War is nothing more than a ghost with an attitude problem."

Dean leaned forward as Gabriel set the ring carefully back down on the desk. "So let's get this thing to Mordor before Gollum gets here."

Sam shot him an incredulous look, and Dean grinned. "What? I paid attention to that movie. Eowyn was hot."

"Nothing can destroy the ring. You can't destroy any of the horsemen, the world needs them. Imagine a world without Death. It might sound nice, but believe me, we'd be worse off," Gabriel smirked. "Besides, one does not simply walk into Mordor, Frodo."

Sam rolled his eyes, ignoring his brother and the archangel. "Let's not forget about the angels on our case as well. A certain archangel in fact. Sorry Cas, but I think you guys just pissed him off, summoning him then trapping him."

Gabriel jerked slightly, attention diverted from bickering with Dean, eyes narrowing. "Raphael? What's she done now?"

Dean tapped his bottle on the desk. "She? Raphael was very dude-like when we ran into her last."

Gabriel rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "Her vessel may be male, but she always preferred a female form in heaven. Made her scarier."

Sam nodded absently. "That I can believe. Hell I've never met her and I'm terrified. After what happened to Cas…" he trailed off as Castiel gave him a wide eyed 'please be quiet' look, but the damage had been done.

Gabriel slowly turned to his brother. "What, happened?" his voice was low. The group were astonished to see Castiel look down abashedly, shoes scuffing the carpet like a little kid in trouble.

"She…did not appreciate my efforts in helping the Winchesters," the angel mumbled.

Dean's sudden bark of laughter startled everyone. "Well that's one way of putting it, man. She blew you up, Cas."

The room suddenly seemed very frosty. Gabriel's eyes were huge as he looked over at the Winchesters, before turning to stare at the cringing angel.

"She what?" Gabriel yelled. "She killed you?"

Castiel reached for him, hand resting lightly on the archangel's arm, squeezing reassuringly. "I am fine now, Gabriel. God resurrected me."

That's a new thing too, Dean mused. Castiel and Gabriel seemed to constantly be touching each other; little gestures like a hand on the shoulder or arm, shoulders resting against each other as they stood. Like they were both afraid the other would disappear suddenly.

Gabriel looked troubled, his shoulders shifting restlessly as he started pacing. "Not that I'm not appreciative that you're still with us Castiel, but God has been a no-show for several millennia. I don't think He could have resurrected you."

Castiel's eyes flashed, and Dean nearly chuckled. Here comes the stubborn, dick with wings attitude.

"Just because our Father has been…absent from heaven, doesn't mean he is not still with us. You may have lost your faith Gabriel, but I have not."

Sam had his 'I am-a-huge-knowledge-sponge-please-feed-me' face on. "If God has been missing for a while, what about Jesus?"

Gabriel was still pacing tight lines by the window, brow furrowed. "Well that was planned out a long time ago. God didn't really have to be there." He said absently.

Even that caught Dean's attention. "How did that work?"

"Let's just say some things you're better off not knowing."

Bobby waved his hands at the four. "Ladies, if you're finished gossiping, we kind of have a devil to take care of."

Gabriel stopped his pacing, and Castiel sighed heavily, walking over to pick up the ring. Dean watched those long fingers run along the edges of the metal, dancing over the gem.

"If we keep ahold of the ring, perhaps it will temporarily foil Lucifer's plans," the angel suggested.

Dean shook his head. "Temporarily being the key there, Cas. We need a weapon. Something that'll kill the devil for good."

Gabriel frowned. "Well an angel blade won't do it. Angel blades only work on lower ranking angels. Not archangels."

Bobby slammed the book he had been flicking through closed, a cloud of dust rising from the tome.

"Well alright then, what'll kill you?" he asked.

Gabriel shook his head with a snort, unfolding his arms to make a rude sign at the hunter with his finger.

"Like I'm going to tell you that, old man."

Castiel was still looking at the ring, his mouth a tight line. He raised his head to fix the archangel in a steely blue gaze, communicating something in freaky angel speak silently.

The archangel glared darkly at the younger angel for a moment, before giving in with a sigh. "Ok, I only know one thing that might-and might is the operative word here- kill the devil. A gun called the Colt. I don't know if it's powerful enough to kill Lucifer, but I certainly don't want it pointed at me."

Sam groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Great. You're kidding."

Gabriel was looking at him curiously. "Well, Trickster by trade, but for once, no I'm not. Why, what's got your pink, lacy panties in a twist, Samantha?"

Yep. If not for being a huge dick archangel, Dean would have definitely been best friends with Gabriel in another life.

Dean sighed, kicking his legs out further as he rolled the beer bottle between his hands. "Figures. We had the Colt, but it was stolen. By a bitch called Bella. God knows where it is now."

Gabriel looked over at Castiel, and the other angel nodded slightly. With a sullen grumble under his breath about humans, the archangel shoved his hands into his faded jeans.

"Then I guess we need to find that out huh?" Gabriel asked lightly. "Not like I had any plans for today anyways. Saving the world always trumps everything else, apparently."

Castiel ignored his brother, turning to Dean, his eyes serious. "Leave it to us. We will find the Colt."


Greg Miller had been a good man.

He had a wife, two kids and a golden retriever called Gus. He could recite the alphabet backwards, and after a few beers, sing the National Anthem using only a wet hand and his armpit. He had gone to university, but dropped out after a semester, deciding it really wasn't for him.

Unfortunately for Greg, he worked at a little gas station along a highway that stayed mostly empty apart from the odd trucker or lost honeymooning couple. It had suited him fine up until 30 minutes ago.

Now he lay prone beneath the flickering, garish gas-station lights. His body lay chest down, but his face was upturned towards the ceiling, dead eyes still wide in surprise and shock. A sticky pool of dark blood was slowly spreading beneath him, reflecting the fluorescent lights and staining his uniform.

Greg Miller had not expected the devil to come calling at his lonely gas station.

Lucifer ignored the body, fingers running along the dusty shelves as he slowly walked up and down the aisles, studying the different bright packages. A group of nervous looking demons waited by the door, eyes flickering between the fallen angel, and the sulking figure sat on the checkout counter.

War grimaced, a box of Goldfish pressed between his thighs as he struggled to tear open the cardboard. His right hand was heavily bandaged and slightly bloodstained, and made it impossible to tear open the cardboard box. With a noise of disgust, the horseman threw the box away, and it thumped loudly on the linoleum, skidding slightly.

"I can't even open a box of crackers," War muttered. "Look at this! This is crap!" He waved his bandaged hand in front of him irritably.

Lucifer picked up a box of Oreos, studying the cheerful, bright blue box. One long finger tapped the box thoughtfully as he turned back to face the horseman.

"I guess one needs all their fingers," he drawled, eyes flashing.

War glared over at him, wriggling the fingers of his other hand at the devil rudely. "Yes thank you for that input. I hadn't realized. I thought it would magically grow back after the Winchesters cut it off."

The box of Oreos creaked under the devils grip, and the assembled demons at the doorway cringed.

"The Winchesters," Lucifer's voice was laced with venom. "Now there's a name that can ruin my good mood."

Pleased that he had caused such a reaction, War grinned, feet kicking the air idly as he cast around for an easier to open snack. "So I hear. What's so important about those two anyways? You're perfectly capable of keeping your vessel in one piece for now, right? For two chosen ones, those two chuckle heads don't really seem that impressive."

Lucifer frowned, dropping the box of Oreos to the ground. "It's none of your concern."

War shrugged. "Suit yourself. I think it just seems like a whole lot of trouble we're going through to keep them occupied and out of the way."

The devil glared over at him, and again the demons cowered away, half expecting the fallen angel to explode with rage. "I don't need you to think, I need you to do. Something that has been sorely lacking as of late."

The horseman held his hands held up, eyes wide with mock fear. "Well excuse me your royal highness. I am but a lowly serf to your magnificent self."

Lucifer's face twisted in a snarl as he stalked towards the horseman, not caring when he walked into the sticky pool of dark blood staining the linoleum.

"I would keep a tight rein on that sharp tongue, War," his voice was quiet, but laced with barely concealed disgust. "If I had the choice, I would wipe you, and the rest of your archaic horsemen, out."

War didn't seem intimidated, merely waving the devil away with his bandaged hand. "Yeah, yeah, you can drop the bratty attitude, kid. You need us. All of us. Wouldn't hurt you to be a bit more…shall we say, courteous."

Lucifer snorted, not even casting a glance down as he stepped over the body of Greg Miller. "Courteous? This is the end of times, horseman. Manners aren't my highest concern. Why do you think I'm summoning you? It's not to make idle chit chat."

War shrugged, legs still swinging. "For our smiling faces and sunny personalities?"

The devil pointedly ignored him. "Now thanks to your incompetence, the Winchesters have the ring. I need it back, War."

"Hey, I want it back too you know," War noticed the plastic tub of lollipops on the counter, and with his good hand, delved into it. "That thing is a family heirloom. I don't want them getting their sticky human fingers all over it."

He held up a lollipop triumphantly, before realizing he'd have to unwrap it. With a long-suffering sigh, he dropped the sweet back into the container. "But in case you hadn't noticed, they're hard to find these days, thanks to a certain rogue angel."

Lucifer turned away, jaw clenched, to look at the nervous group of demons.

"We will find them. And when we do…" Lucifer looked over at the horseman scornfully. "Try not to lose anymore body parts. I need you in at least a few manageable pieces."

War glared daggers at the devil as his back was turned.

"I'll do my best, Master," the horseman ground.