The Baking Angel: Day Seven - Angel Food Cake

[tiptoe39]

Title: The Baking Angel (7/7)
Author: tiptoe39, with art by here4castiel
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing(s): Dean/Castiel, some Sam/Gabriel
Rating: PG-13
Warning: No major warnings apply
Word Count: ~ 27,000
Summary: Castiel and Gabriel have been running their bakeshop for thirty years, waiting for the Vessels to show and signal the end of the world. When the waiting ends, the two brother angels find their loyalties -- and their world -- changing. Romance, brotherly love, and a hefty dose of brown sugar.





Sam stumbled backward. His heel caught on a pebble on the floor, and he nearly lost his balance. In the cold air, his breaths felt like harsh strings of wire tearing at his throat.

The angel in front of him grinned. The one behind him was darkly silent, his arms folded over his chest, glowering in Sam's peripheral vision.  "Now," said Raphael. "Come with me, Sam Winchester, and I'm going to put you in a nice little box where we can keep you until it's time."

His voice, smoothly condescending, made Sam squint and frown. "Yeah, you know what? That sounds really fun, but I'll pass." His eyes flickered past Raphael to the open barn doors.

Raphael chuckled. "Oh, please run," he said. "That would be so diverting. I'll even give you a head start."

"Good enough for me," said Sam, and he broke into a sprint, heading through the doorway into the darkening evening. Once outside, he doubled back, heading around the barn to the far side. The clouds were gathering in an ominous gray heap above his head.

He could hear Raphael giving a short, low belly laugh. "One, two, three. Ready or not, here I come," the angel chanted, and a flicker of air later, there he was, all fists and thick shoulders, in Sam's path.

Sam wheeled to a stop, looked behind him, and stayed still, fists clenched. He backed up carefully, eyes on the grass, head lowered in a grave nod.

Raphael cocked his head. "What, have you given up already? That's no fun. Brother!" Another moment and Gabriel was by his side. "Why doesn't he run?"

"What does it matter why?" Gabriel's icy tone sent shudders through Sam. "Just take him. Get him out of my sight." His eyes flickered over Sam's face, a look that mixed yearning and disgust. Raphael nodded and started forward.
 

Sam opened his fist. A shining lick of color was curled in his hand. "Not likely," he said.

His thumb dragged down against the object -- a small green lighter -- and a flame sprang to life. Sam crouched, and the flame caught and spread, a circular wall of fire surrounding the entire barn.

"What in the--" Raphael  moved toward the barrier, but stopped just short of it, curling back as though repulsed.

"Holy oil." On the other side of the fire, Sam had to shout over the roaring of the flame. "You didn't think I'd come here without some sort of insurance, did you?"

Gabriel started forward, recoiling just as Raphael had at the barrier. "How did you--" His eyes rounded. "Castiel?"

"Guess again." Sam flashed him a smile. "You two really haven't been paying any attention, have you? You really thought we were a pair of mechanics."

Gabriel's mouth opened and closed again. No words could fight their way out.

"Rain'll set you free soon enough," Sam said, angling his eyes up at the sky. "See you then." He took off into a purposeful run.

Inside the circle, Gabriel and Raphael stood unmoving.

"I hate him," Gabriel said.

"No, Brother," Raphael replied. "That's the irony of it all. You don't. And you've doomed him anyway."



Dean was waiting at the door, his arms crossed, when Sam arrived. He was bolting up the front steps with Dean's name on his lips, ready to relate everything that had happened. But the one hurried breath he took in was enough time for Dean to cut him off. "I'm not leaving."

"What?" That breath was wasted. Sam couldn't quite draw in another.

"I've made my decision," Dean said. "I have a shot here, Sammy. At something normal. Maybe that'll go south and maybe it won't, but I have to take the chance."

"Normal?" Sam's disbelief crowded out his sense of danger. "You call that normal?"

"Well." Dean scratched his head. "As close to it as I'm ever going to get."

"They sold us out. Weren't you listening? This is a trap. They're going to use us. Dean, Cas is not on your side."

"Shut up!" Dean roared, slamming a fist into the doorframe with enough power to rattle the windows one floor above. "You do not know him, Sammy. Not the way I do."

"Then how well do you know his brother?" Sam said.

"What the hell kind of question is that?"

Sam grabbed Dean by the shoulders and met his eyes. "Listen to me. Gabriel opened the seal." His voice brimmed with as much darkness as it did urgency. "I saw it. He summoned an angel. I think he called him Raphael. I trapped them, but as soon as the rain puts out the fire, they're coming after me. They're coming after us."

He looked behind him. The clouds were already starting to rumble. Real panic crossed his face.

"Sammy, wait." Dean said, his face grave. "Even if what you're telling me is true, there is no way Cas is part of it."

"Then you'd better get your asses over there and see what's what," said the hard voice of Bobby from behind them. Dean turned; Sam peered over his shoulder into the dim front hall.

"Raphael is an archangel," Bobby went on. "That puts him at about a zillion power levels above your average angel. If your friend Castiel isn't involved with this, he could likely be in danger too. Either way, you go over there, you find out for sure what's going on. You stay here, you're sitting ducks."

Dean was still shaking his head. "I don't believe it. There's no way Gabriel would sell out his own brother."

"Dean," Sam said quietly. "The whole story is about angels turning on each other. Brothers turning on each other."

Dean frowned and glared silently at his own feet.

Sam stepped up into the doorframe, meeting him face to face. "That's what they want us to do," he said. "Just for once, let's not give them the satisfaction. Let's go find out the truth. If Cas has betrayed you, don't you want to know it?"

He got a look and something that might have been a nod.

"And if he hasn't," Sam added, "if he is in trouble, I want to help him, too."



As Sam had said, the rain had come. The fire had muted, but it was still blazing, and as Raphael paced impatiently back and forth, Gabriel sat against the wall of the barn, staring at his hands. "Maybe this was a mistake," he muttered.

Raphael stopped and cocked his head at him. "How can you say that?" His voice was deep and rich with conviction. "This is the right thing. There is no question."

Gabriel looked at him balefully. "But maybe there is. You're right, you know. I don't hate him. But after all this... he might hate me. Castiel, too."

"I must admit, brother, I am surprised." Raphael was a towering figure in Heaven; even now, in the body he wore, he stood over Gabriel like a predator, casting a long, black shadow tinged with red. "You were never one to care what others thought of you. You made that abundantly clear."

"You don't know--" Gabriel started, then cut himself off.  He waved a hand wearily. "Never mind."

A lopsided smile of amusement lit Raphael's face, then disappeared again. "Brother," he said. "Never mind all that. This was always going to happen. It's not our place to question."

"Heh. Tell Castiel that."

Raphael's brow furrowed. "It seems that Castiel has been more of a hindrance than a help to you."

Alarmed, Gabriel got to his feet. "Raphael..."

"Gabriel." The rich tone would brook no interruption. Raphael's eyes, dark and full, bored into Gabriel's. "You could have taken both of those boys yourself and persuaded them to say yes. Marched back home to heaven victorious. But you couldn't bring yourself to do it, could you? That's why you called me. You need someone to do your dirty work for you, and I'm more than happy to assist."

"Back home to heaven?" The phrase fell heavy and strange from Gabriel's lips.

Raphael put a weighty hand on Gabriel's shoulder. "Trust me, Gabriel. I'll take care of everything."

With that, the rain finally hissed out the binding circle, and Raphael flickered off into the distance. Gabriel remained, his eyes turning at last to the dying fire, rain cascading over his hair and features. "Back home to heaven," he murmured, turning over the words as though they had never been spoken before.



Castiel had three angel food cakes in the oven, nearly done, and he was sitting on a small black chair by the oven, just watching their crowns float over the crest of the baking pans. To Gabriel, angel food cake was a bad joke, but to Castiel it was everything buoyant and light, like hope, like magic, like the chance that he and Dean could build a life together here among the ovens and bright South Dakota mornings.

A tapping sounded at the back door, and rising from his chair, Castiel very nearly floated toward the noise. It was Dean outside, he was sure. He'd told Sam their plans, and now he was here, to begin their forever.

Except it wasn't him. It was a dark face curled into a sneer.

Castiel stared at Raphael for a moment, then drew the curtains tight. "Gabriel!" he called.

No answer came from upstairs. There was no Gabriel in the house. Just Raphael, and by the time Castiel had turned around, he was inside. The coals in the oven went to ash. The lights flickered and shorted out.

"You've been a very naughty boy, Castiel," Raphael said. His vessel's teeth flashed briliant white even in the dark.

Castiel stood firm. "What do you want, brother?"

Raphael ignored him. "A very, very naughty boy. Some might even say, a traitor."

Castiel didn't make it across the short distance to the knife lying sharp and loose on the counter. Raphael opened his hands, thrust them forward, and Castiel was tossed like a splash of water against the back cabinets. His head hit the wood, his jawbone clattering against the ironwork knobs, and he cried out in pain. Raphael advanced, glided rather than walked, across the floor toward him. Castiel took a deep, strangled breath, feeling cold air seep into his lungs. Everything hurt. He summoned up his power and willed it forward toward Raphael.

The blast of power barely even knocked Raphael back a pace. His essence, glowing bright heavenly white, dispersed the attack into a thousand wisps of impotent light. Castiel gasped. His next blast rattled the walls and shook Castiel's bones within his vessel's body. He screamed, a sharp shout of physical and celestial pain.

"I've never liked you, Castiel," Raphael said. "You've always had such a cushy job. Never any appreciation for those of us who had to do all the real work."

Another blast sent Castiel's teeth biting into his jaw, brought up a thin line of blood that spilled forward from his lips.

Raphael's grin was bloodcurdling. "I'm really rather glad that you betrayed us. This gives me an excuse." Castiel squeezed his eyes shut. Raphael closed the gap by another pace. "I'm going to enjoy this."

"The hell you are."

Raphael turned sharply and Castiel's eyes flew open just in time to see bright white light flood the room.

The spell was written in red blood gone white, still burning with the power of the magic it summoned. Raphael had vanished. A gash split the skin of Dean's arm, his hand pressed against the symbol, and his other hand clutched an equally bloody knife.

"Come with me if you want to live," he quipped.

Castiel looked at him blankly.

Dean rolled his eyes. Behind him, Sam burst in through the door. "I'm finished," he said, recapping the flask of holy oil. Then, catching sight of Castiel: "Oh, shit."

Venturing forward, Dean pulled Castiel from the cabinet, slinging one arm around his shoulders. "It's kind of funny," he said. "I came here to find out if you'd been lying to me. But I'm the one who's been lying to you. This whole time."

"I don't---" Castiel shook his head and fell limp.

Dean sagged with the sudden weight. "Aw, geez. Sammy! Little help here!"

Through his dimming consciousness, Castiel felt Sam's hands come up to help support him. He heard Dean muttering, "Sorry about this," in his ear. But Dean was here. Castiel couldn't feel sorry about that in the slightest.



"So you are slayers of demons?"

Dean chuckled at the question. "That makes us sound kinda Buffy. We're hunters."

Castiel was looking a little better, but his eyes kept focusing and unfocusing, like he was fading in and out. Woozy, he clutched his head. "And you say it was Gabriel who broke the binding seal?"

"'Fraid so." Sam turned back from the window where he'd . "I know he's your brother and all, but..."

"You're certain?"

Castiel's eyes held Sam's for unsettlingly long. It made Dean twitchy. "Look, dude, you think Sam is making this shit up?"

"No. No, I'm sure he's telling the truth." Dismay darkened Castiel's features. "Gabriel has-- he's changed."

"Ayuh, if by changed you mean turned into a murdering psycho."

"Dean!" Two voices in unison. Dean shrugged.

"He was the one who always wanted me to wait." Castiel's voice was clear and low. "I was ready to turn you both over when you first appeared. But Gabriel told me to wait. He said, take your time. And if he hadn't, I never would have..."

He leaned forward and grabbed Dean's hand, entwined their fingers. Sam groaned. "Oh, God, please just skip that part."

Castiel ignored him. "But ever since that, he's changed. I think... I think he might have envied me."

"Of what?" Dean frowned. "Dude, he's your brother. He should have wanted you to be happy, right? Unless he..." He swallowed. "Crap, you don't think he had the hots for me, do you?"

"No!" The same unison.

The unsettling quiet that followed was Dean's first clue. The second was Castiel's eyes, wide and staring at Sam. Dean followed his gaze. "Sammy," he said, not sure he wanted the answer, "why are you turning red?"

Sam was silent. He averted his eyes.

"Oh, hell, no."

"Look," Sam said halfheartedly, "I didn't--"

Dean scowled. "Listen. There's only room for one gay Winchester in the family. You got that?"

"To be fair," Castiel piped up, "our gender is an entirely human construct and could be easily changed."

"What?" Dean nearly fell off the couch. "Couldn't you have told me this before we---"

"I was not aware we were going to end up in a romantic relationship." Castiel's expression was somewhere between embarassment and amusement. His lips kept twitching. "Would you like me to--"

"No, no, now I'm used to you. Damn it!"

Sam laughed. Hard. Dean gave him a death glare.

"Anyway." Castiel was quick to change the subject. "He won't be gone for long. We need a plan."

"A plan? What can we do against him? He's an archangel."

"So's Gabriel."

"Yes, but Gabriel's the one who narced on you, remember?"
 
"Even so, he is still my brother." Castiel struggled to his feet. Dean rushed forward to steady him, but his stance was solid. "I can try to contact him. But I won't do it here. I need to go someplace else. That way, if he brings Raphael with him, you won't be caught in the crossfire."

"Are you crazy? Raphael wants to kill you."

Castiel's voice was as clear as his gaze. "But Gabriel doesn't. I'm sure of that much. if it's just me, Gabriel won't allow him to hurt me."

Dean grumbled and stepped back. "All right. Just... get back here quickly, okay?" He raised his hand to draw a finger across Castiel's lips. Castiel nodded gravely, and his hand covered Dean's on his mouth. For a short moment, there was no sound in the room.

Then Castiel drew back. He stood in the center of the room and looked intently at some point beyond the door. His gaze sharpened. He braced himself. And he waited.

It was a second before Dean was sure something was wrong. "Dude. What are you..."

"Trying to teleport. It's not working." Castiel's eyes quavered with puzzlement. "I'm being bound. I don't--"

"Hey," said Sam, reaching out an arm to touch Dean's shoulder. "Do you guys... smell something?"




Holy oil burned clear and fierce, a circular blaze that would not be put out. And Raphael had added his own fire to the mix, which meant the holy binding ring was free to spread, to destroy and to grow to the extent that even the rain couldn't stop it. As he watched from just outside, the Baking Angel's sign, the cherub and the croissants, blazed into charred wood and fell loose of its moorings, clattering to the ground as a blackened lump. Inside, wooden counters and chairs caught fire with a series of loud pops. As the fire spread, jugs of cooking oil combusted with puffs of flame like small bombs. Raphael chuckled, the proud laugh of a job well done. He felt Gabriel's presence and, without turning to him, smiled broadly. "Isn't it magnificent?" he said. "Don't worry, your precious Vessels are safe on the second floor. They don't know that, but--"

It was as far as he got before Gabriel slugged him.

Blindsided, toppling, Raphael hit the grass with a loud thud. He had only time enough to stare blankly up before Gabriel was on him, swinging wildly, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Brother-- wait!" he tried to cry out, but Gabriel was lost to reason, pummelling him with fierce fists as the Baking Angel burned, its flame turning his face to red-orange planes and shadowed blacks.

"Bastard!" he shouted. "You're no better than the rest of them!"

Raphael fell backward. The pavement scraped against his back, tearing the flesh of his elbows where he connected with it.

"Nobody said you could go after Castiel! Nobody!" One fist after another smacked Raphael's face, wet slapping sounds echoing against the backdrop of the fire's roar. Raphael choked. The blood of his human flew from his mouth. Red spattered on the dark olive gray of pavement. "I never told you you could touch him! My home..."

Raphael roared back at him, grabbing Gabriel by the arms. "Heaven is your home, Gabriel! Have you forgotten this much?"

The words stilled Gabriel long enough for Raphael to throw him off. A few stumbling steps and Gabriel regained his balance, leaning forward with vicious frustration in his eyes. "You betrayed me, brother."

"Betrayed you? Who is betraying whom here?" A bitter laugh lurked behind Raphael's tone. "Who is breaking the promise he made thirty years ago?"

Gabriel was silent. His fists curled into hard lumps of flesh, and he breathed hard. The fire cast an orange glow onto his face.

"Don't you get it, Gabriel?" Raphael went on. "You've broken. You're soft. There was no way you'd let me have the Vessels. In the end, you'd always be on Castiel's side. I had to destroy this false home you've built. Now you have no choice but return to your true home--"

He didn't get any further. Gabriel was on him again, his fists flying, tears spilling from his eyes and catching the firelight until they looked like drops of crystalline blood.

As he wept and punched, the rain became a torrent worthy of a hurricane. Even the enchanted holy oil began to dim, and the flames sputtered and died in in the night as Gabriel wailed away at Raphael's prone form.

Blinded by rage as he was, he didn't see the fire die. Nor did he see the light in the mournful eyes of the angel with outstretched hands, or the two who watched in slack-jawed amazement as Castiel closed his fist and the rain died down again. Gabriel missed it all. The first he knew was that a hand had caught his wrist.

"I get it," Sam said. His voice was quiet, patient. "You really are Dorothy. You just want to go home."

Anger resurfaced inside him. Gabriel shook off Castiel's grip and whipped around to snap at Sam. "I don't know what the hell you're--"

"You finally found a home," Sam said. "After running away from Heaven, after living on Earth for God knows how long, you finally find a place where you belong. And just when you think everything's going to be okay, you lose it all."

Gabriel had frozen. The flames had fizzled into fast-dissipating black smoke, revealing the charred skeleton of a shop. The second floor sat pristine and unburned above the blackened walls.

Sam's gaze was steady on Gabriel, and his eyes were clouded with tears. "It all goes up in flames, and there's no rhyme or reason to it. So you start burning bridges. You think maybe, if you're the one to destroy it, maybe it'll hurt less than when it's taken from you. It won't. I swear to God, it won't."

Behind him, Castiel and Dean had joined hands and were gazing at him somberly. The three pairs of eyes on Gabriel felt like a million, and his head dropped, trying to shake off their heat. He couldn't find a way out of this. He wanted to crumble into the earth.

"I lost mine too," Sam said. "I had a girl I loved, I had a future. I lost it all. But now I've got Dean, and..." He paused. "I don't know how to say this. The point is, it's not where you are that's home."

A little gasp came from Gabriel's mouth, and he stood. Slowly.

Sam held out his hand. "You could... you could come with us," he muttered shyly.

Gabriel's eyes met his. He reddened.

That's when Raphael grabbed him and pulled him down.

Sam shouted and rushed forward, but Raphael didn't even have to blink, just look at him, and Sam was being thrown across the sidewalk, landing against a parked car with a thud. Dean cried out his name. Castiel sprang into action, fire flaring from his palms and bolting in arrows toward Raphael's face, but they, too, were turned around. The interruptions ended, Raphael pulled Gabriel close by his collar and lifted him into the air.

"Castiel, run," Gabriel gasped. "Get away from here." Raphael closed his fist around Gabriel's throat. "Hurry!" he choked out with his last bits of breath.

"You know," Raphael said, cocking his head in a way that seemed out of joint for the body he was wearing, "I'd really thought when you called me that you'd learned your lesson. Gained back a proper respect for the workings of heaven."

"I--" Gabriel tried to drag in air through the bare space allowed him. "I do, man. I did. I'm on your side in this."

"You lie." Raphael squeezed harder.

Gabriel clawed at the air, scraped, kicked. "Swear! Look, they're.. ungh... they're getting away. Look, I'm sorry I got pissed at you, but... hello, Vessels, escaping, now?"

Raphael let him go. Gabriel dropped a full foot to the ground, skinned one knee on the pavement and hissed. "Hurry up!" he said, his eyes trained on the receding figures of Castiel, Dean and Sam. "Get after them!"

One more suspicious look, and Raphael sped up, leaving him behind.

"Sucker," muttered Gabriel.

He muttered a word in an ancient language and thrust his hand forward. Raphael turned just in time for his surprised face to register in front of Gabriel's eyes. Then the light was upon him. At the other end of the sidewalk, Castiel whirled. He spoke an answering phrase, and power poured forth from his palms, too.

Raphael shrieked as his form was enveloped in white. The whole block went incandescent, brilliant as the surface of the sun.

Then it was gone, and so was Raphael. The rain puddled in the cracks beneath the sidewalk where he'd been.



The Baking Angel was beyond repair. Every piece of furniture, every barrel of flour and every spice and frosting had gone up in the blaze. Only the skeleton of the place stood intact, just barely holding up the mysteriously pristine second floor. A crowd was starting to gather in the rain as the two sets of brothers returned to the remains of their longtime haunt.

"This town isn't safe anymore," Gabriel said as they wandered into the ruined kitchen. The door, at least, still shut the crowds out behind them. "We have to go."

Sam moved toward him. "Wait. We?"

"Idiot. You're the one who invited me along."

Sam smiled. Gabriel flushed. Dean let the silence go on for as long as he could stand, then snorted loudly. It was enough to bring Gabriel back to himself. "Besides," he said with a grimace, "you can't hide without me. We need to stay one step ahead of them."

"Does that mean you--" It was Castiel's voice.

Gabriel nodded. "Come here, Castiel."

Castiel obeyed, and Gabriel reached out an arm to pressed his palm to Castiel's forehead. A light glowed just barely, dimly, against his brow. Castiel shuddered, head to toe. Then the light and the convulsion were over. Castiel looked no different, but his expression was relieved, and he whispered a low thank-you.

Sam and Dean were sharing a confused look when Gabriel beckoned to them. "Your turn."

It felt like something was worming its way into their bodies. It wiggled through them, snakelike, burrowed into them, and faded away.  Dean felt utterly unchanged. He looked down at himself. "What the hell?"

"Enochian sigils," Castiel said. "They will hide us from angels and demons alike. We'll still have to stay moving, though. And be careful."

Dean chuckled. "That's kind of what we've been doing our whole life. But why'd he zap you, too?"

"He's the only one who can."

"So you're..." His hand, trembling, grabbed Castiel's. "You're gonna come with us?"

"It's gonna be a full house in that car," Gabriel said with a smirk. "Can you handle it?"

Dean broke into a grin. "Only if you bring snacks."

Castiel withdrew his hand and rounded the counter. Against the wall, next to the still-smoking countertops, stood the industrial-strength oven, a fat block of gray coated with ash and charcoal from the fire's wrath. With tender hands he pulled the door open, and uttered a small noise of triumph at what he found there.

He lifted his hands. Balanced on each palm was one round, full angel food cake. "For the road," he declared with a full, pleased smile.

"Kept safe from a fire by hiding in an oven," Gabriel said. "I'm impressed."

"What, no pie?" Dean said.

Sam slapped him. "Jerk."

"Bitch," Dean answered automatically. "That's girly cake."

"Dean!" Castiel's voice was reproachful. Sam laughed. The twin halos of the angel food cakes shone golden brown in the dim light.



The cakes ended up wedged in that tiniest of spaces between passenger side and driver's side, right behind the coffee cup holders, where both front and back seat dwellers could get to them.

Gabriel would have eaten the whole thing if Castiel had let him, but after a few handfuls Gabriel got a slap to the back of his hand. Still, he kept sneaking bits, as did Sam, and after a few hours on the road, even Dean started munching on the stuff.

"Girly cake," Sam reminded him.

"Sh'dupp. Hungry."

"So, honey bunchkins, where to?" Gabriel draped himself over the back of the front seat, nuzzling Sam, who'd frozen with embarrassment.

"Murderers in South Carolina carving up the victims," Dean rattled off from memory. "Police say it looks like bear attacks, but they went straight for the hearts and left everything else intact."

"Sounds delightful," Gabriel said. "You know, we could just take a vacation. Tahiti? Antarctica? Anywhere on earth is our pleasure."

Sam turned his head to smile at him, a rueful smile that took Gabriel's words away. "That's not who we are. We don't relax. We keep moving. It's actually kind of suited to being fugitives from heavenly justice."

"There's a long tradition of wanderers doing good works," Castiel piped up. "Some of them were on the run as well. It's a good paradigm to follow."

"'Zactly," Dean affirmed, with a hunk of cake stuffed in his mouth. "Maybe we can't run forever, but we can sure as hell run right now."

Gabriel smirked from the back seat. "And isn't it fun."

The car rocketed along, sunset smoldering in the rear view mirror. The world wouldn't end today, and that was good enough for now.