Since that summary was basically me trying to sound cool and ominous, here's a more straightforward one.

Castiel hires the archangels (minus Raphael because he killed that one's ass for a reason, man) to be his lackeys during the Godstiel bit.

Shit goes down.

Before the beginning, God created the Archangels.

They were great and terrible creatures of beauty and immense strength, designed to guard the heavens and the earth. When together, they were an unstoppable force of good and God's will. They were simultaneously Heaven's most deadly weapons, and her brightest beacons of hope and love.

And thus, the New God set about reuniting them, this time to carry out His will.

Gabriel went with Death quietly. It's probably the only thing he's ever done (or ever will do) as such. He parted with his life and went with the entity as an old friend. No jokes, no final quips, no questions.

Death for an Archangel. . . It's dark. Peaceful. There's nothing to stress about. There's nothing at all, really. Just broken thoughts and scattered bits of self that are far too dispersed to really do anything more than vaguely exist at the edges of reality.

Terribly lonely, too. It's like being everywhere but nowhere all at once, if Gabriel had to describe it. Able to sense living beings in the vaguest way, but unable to interact with them in any way. Thoughts slipped away from him before they fully even formed. Time did not exist to him. He might have been dead for just an hour, or perhaps for several aeons, but either way he had no way of knowing. It felt unnatural, like he was created without the thought of death in mind. Dad probably didn't consider it, to be honest. Death was nothing more than an obscure idea in those days.

He felt it when Raphael joined him, and Gabriel was filled with both (almost selfish) relief, and unbearable sadness. Gabriel and Raphael, as the third and fourth children of God respectively, were close. Just as Michael and Lucifer had been. And though—like their older brothers—they differed in opinion on many things—also like their elders—they loved each other very much. In death, the two Archangels were mostly content, keeping each other company and enjoying the simple peace. It was still lonely and confusing, but slightly less so now they had each other.

Needless to say, when one gets shish-kebabed on an Archangel's sword by Satan (or anyone, really), one doesn't expect to wake up.

So when Gabriel, between one second and the next, went from being nothing but a floating consciousness to suddenly blinking against the brightness of heaven, he was understandably surprised. (And the understatement of the year goes to. . .)

And the first thing he saw once his eyes adjusted. . . "Castiel?" He squints, not quite believing what he's seeing for a second. Sure, that looks like his little brother, but there's something off about him. He's too bright, too intense. Almost like. . . "Wait, no way, Dad?"

He hears a snort off to his side, and whips around to see his two elder brothers; Michael and Lucifer, standing hardly a foot away from each other. And . . . Not glaring at each other. Gabe's eyes nearly pop out of his head as Lucifer speaks in a mildly amused drawl. "Not quite, little brother. You were right the first time. Cassie's just all hopped up on happy juice."

At that, Gabriel whips back around to get a better look at his little brother, and he can see what Lucifer means. Souls, by the thousands, all shoved into Castiel's vessel (packed tighter than sardines in a can, or Donald Trump in skinny jeans). ". . . Ah." He blinks again, wondering what all this was about. Several questions barrage his mind at once. Why's he back? More importantly; how is he back? Exactly how much did he miss while he was down for the count? How soon would it be appropriate for him to snap up some M&Ms or something? Where did all those souls come from? Did the Seahawks beat the Broncos? Why are Michael and Lucifer free? Why are they not tearing at each other's throats? Did Cass get a new trench-coat?

Instead of asking all that, he sums up his confusion into just one succinct question. "What in the name of all things holy or otherwise is going on?" Yeah, that'll have to do.

"That's what we'd like to know, too." Michael admits solemnly, shifting on Adam's feet. His vessel, paired with the nervous action makes him seem deceptively young. Lucifer was back in Nick, and Gabriel. . . The youngest Archangel looks down at himself, patting his. . . Actually normal body. The same vessel he was wearing when he died. Same clothes, same everything. The only thing different. . . Loki is gone. The companionable (and sometimes opinionated) consciousness he usually shared this body with is silent. Now it's only him. That realisation makes him sad, actually. He failed his vessel (his friend).

"Okay. . ." All eyes were on Castiel, who was watching them impassively. "Cass, what's all this about? And where's Raph?"

A stormy expression crossed the youngest angel's face before quickly dissipating. "He is not necessary to my plans." He replies, after a moment.

"He speaks!" Lucifer immediately taunts, feigning astonishment. Gabriel cringes and silently bets that he gets the same treatment as Raphael did within an hour.

Michael throws his brash sibling a withering look before addressing Castiel again (always the diplomat). "Brother, don't get us wrong—" His words halt momentarily at a sharp glare from Lucifer. (So maybe they aren't as reconciled as Gabriel initially assessed. . .) "—don't get me wrong, I'm thankful that you thought to rescue us. . . But, I have to admit that I'm at a loss as to what this is all about. Care to explain?"

Gabriel, being the only one who knew what happened to Raphael, felt his heart sink as he started to draw his own conclusions.

Castiel remained very detached as he spoke, eyes landing on each of them in turn. "As you all have observed, I am no longer a simple seraph; I am now so much more than the soldier I was. I am powerful, and I intend to do something about this world. Heaven has remained unguided for too long, Hell has been left all but totally unchecked, and humanity has begun to lose their way, their faith. I can see now, that creation cannot be left Godless. Angels, demons, humans. . . You all need a father, a shepherd to guide you. And I have stepped up and assumed that role. Father forsook his creations, forsook us a long time ago. I intend to do better." He paused at this, seemingly gauging the ensuing reactions.

Lucifer and Michael wore identical expressions of disgust and denial, their doubts only belied by their continued silence. Gabriel opted to remain neutral, waiting to find out where his little brother was going with this. His growing discomfort was only visible in the tense muscles of his shoulders.

After a eyeing each of them in turn, Castiel continued his speech. "His guiding hand is gone, and now it is left to us to repair the damage his negligence has resulted in. Four can accomplish these goals more efficiently than one can. The three of you now owe me your lives and freedom, so if you wish to keep them, you will pledge yourselves wholly to me; as your new God."

Silence. For almost a solid minute (which seemed to stretch on for a dad-damned century) none of them spoke a word. Castiel seemed unaffected by this; serene, even.

Lucifer (of course it would be him) broke the tension with an angry step forward. "New God? How dare you. You think, just because you gorged yourself on monster souls, you can—" Lucifer's lips kept moving, but no sound came out, and Castiel shook his head with an air of boredom. (Gabriel revised his bet to half an hour.)

"You too, will learn obedience. Unless you want to return to your cage, Lucifer?" Castiel raises one brow, menacing in his calm. "I pulled you out, I can throw you back in."

Needless to say, Lucifer backed down (though he was far from happy about it). He didn't doubt that Castiel could follow through on that threat. Lucifer is stubborn, opinionated, and impatient, but he does have a strong self-preservation instinct, on top of all that. (Gabriel, impressed with Castiel's restraint, returns to his bet's original timeframe.)

Gabriel and Michael had remained silent throughout the exchange, sharing a brief look that spoke volumes. This isn't good. In fact, this is very, very bad. Knowing Castiel, the naïve Angel didn't know what he'd gotten himself into. There's more than just souls in Purgatory. . .

"Michael." The 'new God' spoke up, breaking Gabriel's silent reverie. "Be an example for your brothers." The powerful creature wearing their baby brother's face watched Michael expectantly.

The eldest Angel stiffened slightly under the attention. He. . . He's not made for this. Michael was made to follow the Father's orders. He doesn't make decisions, he carries them out. Lucifer's eyes bore into his older brother, waiting for his decision.

"I. . ." The sword of God hesitates, looking between his brothers. To give in, or resist and surely sign his own death warrant. . . If he bows to Castiel, he risks the wrath of God, when (if) Father returns. . . If he refuses to serve him. . . He could end up dead, or worse, thrown back in the cage. And then he would be unable to protect his brothers, or save Castiel from himself.

Castiel remains silent, exuding patience. His sharp, icy blue eyes never waver from the eldest Angel. He obviously knows exactly what he's doing. Michael doesn't make decisions. Michael is a follower, and asking him to lead his brothers with nothing but his own wisdom is something he simply hasn't done.

It takes him a while (Gabriel begins to think that Cass broke his poor big bro), but Michael makes his decision. "Father forgive me. . ." The Archangel breathes out as he places his fist over his heart reluctantly, but meets Castiel's eyes decisively. "I pledge myself." He kneels on one knee, and though he knows Lucifer's eyes are seeking his own, he refuses to meet them. "I will assist you to the best of my ability."

Castiel merely gives a satisfied nod, and gestures for him to rise.

There's a pause, in which Castiel turns his attention to Lucifer. But the devil isn't looking at him, his eyes are only for Michael as he releases an exasperated growl. "You disloyal. . . I can't believe you. What gives you the right -"

He was cut off again, this time by the near-God in question's fist colliding with his temple. None of them saw him move.

Lucifer crumpled to the ground, like a doll whose strings were suddenly cut. He doesn't move right away, too shocked to even pick himself back up.

Michael makes a start towards his unnaturally still brother, concern evident on his features. (Gabriel would sing at the proof that Michael still cared if he wasn't frozen in dread by Lucifer's predicament. . .) He's frozen in place with a twitch of Castiel's fingers (kind of like Syndrome's zero-energy glove from Incredibles). "I tire of your incessant whining, Lucifer." The words, eerily devoid of all emotion, send a chill down Gabriel's spine.

At his name, Lucifer looses a pathetic little groan and fights to get his now-uncooperative arms underneath himself and push his upper body off the ground. He tastes blood. Judging by his sluggish movements, the hit he took must have affected more than just his vessel. Though, to his credit, he doesn't shake or allow any further signs of weakness show as he struggles to shake off his daze.

Castiel waits until Lucifer is looking at him again (eyes wide, shocked and vulnerable in a way Gabriel can't recall ever witnessing before) to continue with an air of disdain. "Father was too kind, too forgiving, and too gentle with you. You need a firmer hand." He returns his hands to his pockets, traces of anger in his eyes as he towers over the felled angel. "This is your one and only warning, Morningstar. I will not be so tolerant of your insubordination. Cross me, and you will be dealt with. Permanently. I suggest you tread carefully." Castiel finally steps back, and releases Michael from his hold.

The older brother rushes to Lucifer's side, obviously worried. The latter refuses the silent offer of assistance, his damaged pride still intact enough to disallow any further show of weakness.

Lucifer had never felt so weak, so. . . Thoroughly humbled . . . and the realisation that Castiel could so effortlessly bring him to his knees was a slap to the face. The serpent recoils, averting his eyes from Castiel's icy gaze and towards the ground.

Slowly, but steadily, Lucifer gets back to his feet and lifts his eyes to return that gaze with an equally cold, but relatively muted glare (relative to the intense and focused hatred of before, that is).

Gabriel is silent, mostly in a state of shock from everything. It's all too fast. For Dad's sake, he only just came back from the dead!

But he's the first one to break the tense quiet, unable to bear it any longer. "Luce. . ."

His older brother's eyes snap to him, expression guarded and hostile at first, but the look quickly softens. He isn't angry with Gabriel. How can he be when his miraculously alive little brother is standing there, wearing the same thing he was when he died, looking so desperate? When that look is the same as the one Gabriel gave him seconds before Lucifer turned his brother's own blade back on himself. The eyes that pleaded with him to 'stop please brother, just stop' before they gave way to pain, shock, and betrayal.

Maybe this time, he should listen.

Lucifer's eyes linger on Gabriel for a moment, searching for something (forgiveness? Hatred? Pity? Whatever it is, he seems to find it) before he turns to Castiel. The devil's gaze hardens once more as he spits out his answer. "I will never bow to you; you are not God, and you never will be."

Gabriel and Michael simultaneously cringe.

Castiel waits patiently, sensing more to come. Bowing isn't important to him (especially if it isn't done out of anything but fear), it's obedience that he wants from Lucifer. (After all, who will fight him once he has tamed the father of rebellion?)

And more does come, though after a long hesitation. Closing his eyes, Lucifer lifts his white-knuckled fist from his side to rest over his heart, but as promised, does not kneel or bow. He does so with difficulty, and when he speaks it's with a tinge of shame to his words. "However, I . . . also pledge myself to you." The fist drops, followed promptly by his gaze.

The two other Archangels collectively release the (totally unnecessary, by the way) breath they didn't know they were holding. (Maybe Gabriel will end up losing that bet. A guy can hope. . .) Castiel gives a curt nod, satisfied. It's enough, for now.

Finally, the calculating stare turns to Gabriel. The older angel feels like he's being X-rayed, that instead of looking at him, Castiel is looking through him, able to read him like a children's book. Gabriel suddenly understands how he managed to intimidate Mike and Luce.

Gabriel already knows what his answer will be, has known since before Michael made his decision, but he can't resist one more question. "Any chance you'll bring Raphael back?"

Castiel answers in the form of a solemn shake of his head.

Gabriel's eyes sadden, and he sighs. "I'm disappointed in you, Cassie."

To Michael and Lucifer's silent astonishment, the Mutated once-angel's eyes go downcast at the gentle reprimand. ('But I saved you, brother.' / 'Saving one life doesn't justify taking another's. . .')

The third Archangel steps forward, putting a hand on Cass' shoulder. "As long as your heart's in the right place, you know I'm on your side, bro." It's not a vow of service, but Castiel understands that it's all he'll get from Gabriel, and somehow it feels stronger than the vows Lucifer and Michael gave him. Loyalty earned is always more reliable than loyalty extracted through fear and force. Gabriel already threw his lot in with Cass and the boys; he gave his life for their cause, and as long as Cass follows those same values, Gabriel would give his life again.

Castiel offers his older brother a warm smile. "Thank you." For a fleeting second, the Castiel that followed at his brother's heels as a fledgling, searching for approval, broke through the intense, withdrawn persona he's taken up with all this power.

Michael and Lucifer shared a baffled look. Even after all their years apart, and all the fighting, they can still read each other like the back of their hands. At some point, Michael had made his way between Lucifer and Castiel. It isn't obvious, and Michael most likely isn't even conscious of it. Lucifer had noticed, but didn't seem to mind.

Maybe locking them in a cage together wasn't completely ineffective after all. . .

This is way too tense. Gabriel has to fix that. "Riiight." He stretches his arms above his head, turning his back on the three other beings, taking a closer look at his surroundings. (Some autistic dude's heaven? Weird choice for this reunion.) "So, being dead kinda put me out of the loop. Thanks for that, by the way." He flashes his older brother a tight smile over his shoulder. Lucifer of course, doesn't even have the decency to look apologetic. "I heard some stuff on the flip side from Raph, but not enough to have a great idea of what's going on. So, is there a plan, boss man? Or are we here to stand around and look pretty? Maybe massage your back? I have it on good authority that my fingers are magic." The trickster can't help but tease a bit, turning back around with the aforementioned fingers laced behind his head.

"This should help." Castiel reaches out to touch his older brother's forehead with two fingers, the contact lasting for a second or two as he transfers the highlights of his memories from the last year or so to Gabriel.

Said Archangel steps back with a frown, sorting through the new information. "You worked with Crowley? Cas… You know he's bad news." Gabriel looks reproachfully at his younger brother, still sorting through the new memories. "But… Yeah, I guess Raph was being kind of a dick. He could have handled things better. But. . . So could you, Cas. There's nothing he could have done to you after you took in those souls. Why—" blow him to bits? No, perhaps that phrase wasn't appropriate for 'polite conversation'. . . Gabriel aborted that sentence and quickly finished his line of thought. "He wasn't a threat."

Castiel released a long, put-upon sigh. "He would only have been trouble. Raphael would never see reason and assist me as you all have agreed to."

Lucifer began to mumble mutinously ("define agreed")under his breath, but Castiel silenced him with a nothing more than a sharp look before turning back to the other problem child.

"Let it go, Gabriel."

"How can you know if you don't ask? I can talk to him—" the former trickster starts to protest.

"I said no. Drop it, now." Castiel's eyes darkened a fraction, and for that short moment, Gabriel could no longer recognise his little brother. Something else was influencing him.

All three Archangels saw it, and they shared a concerned look with each other. Michael; concerned for his two brothers' safety, Lucifer; concerned for his own, and Gabriel; concerned for Castiel. They didn't need Angel radio to know they were all thinking the same thing.

Leviathan.

The dark thing infecting Castiel's body disappeared just as quickly as it came, but they had all still seen it.

With the argument now decisively over, silence reigned once more. Castiel appeared to be contemplating something, and no one dared to interrupt him.

That is, until Michael cleared his throat. "Brother, what happened to Raphael? What did he do to. . . Upset you?" Castiel's eyes flashed, and Gabriel briefly took pity on Michael.

Castiel considered the older two angels, his lips pressing into a tight line. "Of course, neither of you are aware of the result of your. . . Disappearance." He eyed them a second longer, and then stepped toward Michael. "You want to see how your war ended? Here."

Seeing the glint of malice in the younger's eye, Gabriel honestly couldn't blame Michael for the apprehensive look he was giving Castiel as the latter raised two fingers again. To his credit, he did not flinch away. The apprehension twisted into a grimace, and then regret as memories washed over Michael. The elder closed his eyes as he processed the entirety of Castiel's experiences, from the start of the apocalypse to the moment he snapped Raphael out of existence.

He was silent for a long moment, during which Castiel stepped away and seemingly lost interest. The former Seraph's eyes instead sought out the lone human soul inhabiting this pocket of heaven as he continued to plan, now that he knew which pieces he had.

It was Lucifer's turn to move towards his brother, both concerned and morbidly curious. A hand on Mike's shoulder was all it took to pull the elder out of his trance. Immediately, Michael shrugged him off, and looked for Castiel, expression apologetic. "I had no idea, brother." Castiel turned, lifting a brow questioningly. "I was wrong to cast you out. I was blind to Zachariah. I. . . I apologise."

Castiel watched him for several seconds, giving off the appearance that he was debating internally. All at once, his demeanour got a shade softer. ". . . Forgiven. Do not repeat your mistakes, brother."

Lucifer looked between his three brothers, confused and feeling kind of left out. "What did you show—" He thought better of the question and stopped himself just in time. "Ah, on second thought, I don't want to know. What is it that humans say? Ignorance is bliss?" The attempt to lighten the mood wasn't lost on Gabriel, but it apparently went way over Castiel's head.

"Yes, but I believe that 'curiosity killed the cat' better fits this situation, Lucifer." The correction carried a pointedly ominous undertone. After a second, Castiel turns back to the autistic man and continues. "Basically, Raphael took over heaven, and then I took over and blew him up. You'd be proud, Lucifer. Our last meeting inspired his death. Thanks to you, I know first-hand just how debilitatingly painful molecular combustion is. Would you like to find out?" His words dripped with sarcasm and distaste.

No, he would very much not like to find out, thank you. Lucifer paled a few shades, and wisely kept his mouth shut. (The iron taste was still fresh on his tongue, not to mention his poor throbbing head. Have some sympathy for the devil.)

And that was that.

Castiel didn't seem inclined to say anything else, and none of his brothers were inclined to speak up again. At a loss for what to do, and fairly certain that flying off would be a death sentence, the Archangels looked for ways to quietly distract themselves. Lucifer gave into his boredom first, wandering off to explore this guy's heaven and probably lick his wounds once he was out of Michael's view.

Michael took the time to sort through Castiel's memories, separating the very vivid (but not his) sights, smells, and feelings from his own life. The memories effected him a lot, just as they had done to Castiel. And while they probably had a positive effect overall, Michael wasn't comfortable with the almost instant personality change that had occurred. That wasn't his life. He could see now that his actions before had been flawed, and he wanted to change that, to learn from his mistakes, but he didn't want to learn only through Castiel's eyes. So he pushed the new knowledge to the back of his mind (much in the same way that angels ignore the memories of the vessel they inhabit), and resolved to learn from them, but in his own time.

Gabriel's solution was a lot more human than Lucifer or Michael's. He snapped up some candy, an iPod, earbuds, and Gabriel proceeded to chill out on the grass, enjoy his very-much-missed sweets and 70's disco music, and tune out the world around him.

So, this story took me forever to write. But! It is actually 100% written. I'm just editing each chapter as I put it up. I would really appreciate a beta to help me out, though. So if you're interested, tell me in the comments!

Chapters will be uploaded every Saturday.

Please tell me what you think! I love talking to people about this stuff!