"Gabriel, what are you doing?" asked Michael. Gabriel sat on the edge of a cloud, looking down on the newly formed Earth. Gabriel was a relatively new angel and Michael had to admit, the youngling was one of his favorite new brothers.

"Looking."

"What are you looking at?" Michael asked, sitting down on the cloud beside his brother and dangling his feet off the edge.

"Humans."

"They are strange, aren't they." said Michael with a smile. Gabriel pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them,

"Not really. They're like us, right? One of God's creations?"

"Yes. But they have no Grace, no wings."

"True. Still…I like them." Gabriel said. Just then, Lucifer appeared behind them, snorting in derision,

"Humans. The single flaw of that world."

"Careful, brother," said Michael with furrowed brows, "They are the creations of our Father, who makes all things good and perfect. There is no flaw in His plan."

"Do you truly believe that, brother? Still? As our Father sets these mewling creatures of flesh above us?"

"I will always believe the ways of our Father, Lucifer." said Michael, standing with clenched fists. Gabriel watched his brothers in wide-eyed wonder. Lucifer glared at Michael before turning on his heel and stomping away, the cloud beneath him turning grey and stormy with his every footstep.

"What was that?" asked Gabriel in awe. Michael pinched the bridge of his nose,

"That, Gabriel, was a fight."

"Does our Father really create all things perfect?"

"Yes." said Michael vehemently. He stooped down to the still-sitting Gabriel, took him by the shoulders and said, "Remember this, Gabriel: Our Father has a plan for you. A plan of good to help you in your way. Follow our Father's plan."

At the time, Gabriel had nodded, wondering how anyone could ever deviate from a perfect plan.

Millennia later, as Gabriel's vessel lay gasping on the cold floor, he wondered if this was his Father's plan as well.