Archive of Our Own ^beta

"What do you boys need this time?" it wasn't that he didn't enjoy the two hunters, but he was a busy angel and he had things to attend to, messengers to guide and messages to deliver, that old schtick and all that jazz. Sam shared a look with his older brother, rubbing a hand over his chin, and looked back to the Archangel when he nodded in return to the unspoken question.

"We found something…. Eer…More like someone."

Gabriel narrowed his eyes at the cryptic response to his question, and at the implication that it was something that they had come across and thought that their best course of action was to call on one of them to help them get to the bottom of it.

"What did you find?"

"Well, we're not exactly sure, Cas was pretty tight lipped around the subject, but I don't think he was even too sure. He said that they were powerful, more so then him, but not as much as you guys. We figured you were better suited for the job."

The Archangel nodded once, more serious then he usually like to maintain for himself, motioning for him to lead the way. The hunter shared one more glance with his brother and stepped off, motioning for the archangel to follow from over his shoulder, and led him down to their dungeon.

…

“You found a kid and couldn’t handle that?”

Honestly, if he hadn’t been on edge with the entire introduction, Gabriel might have laughed at the whole ordeal. He didn’t look like much, skin the color of dark chocolate, dark curls framing his face, what little of it he could see as he stared down at his barefeet. He wore a leather vest, a dark green shirt underneath, dark skinny jeans, as was the teenager fashion these days. Leaning against the leg of the chair he sat in was an old worn knapsack.

The only thing that stood out was the vines hanging out of the side of the knapsack and the manacle wrapped around his ankle.

But, what really caught his eye was the pendant that he was twirling in his fingers absentmindedly, eyes staring down at it clouded over with rolling deeply, and he narrows his eyes as he tries to place where he’s seen it before.

“Where did you find him?”

“In a garden, he was making flowers.”

Gabriel turns to look at the hunter. “You kidnapped a kid because he was making flowers?”

“When he found out we were watching him, he did something, and the ground swallowed Dean.”

“He what?” Gabriel nods, turning back to the boy, taking in all the information that was being offered to him. “That’s very interesting.”

He watches him as he pressed his lips to the pendant and went back to twirling it, his mind reeling as he tried to make out where he had seen it before, he knows he has, he recognizes it, but he can’t remember where for the life of him. He looked him over closer, eyes narrowing again, when he spots the premature wings budding under his shoulders, the mix of soul and grace that was only seen in one sort of creature.

“I’ll see what I can get out of him.”

“Don’t do anything to him.”

He sent the hunter an affronted look of offence. “I would never harm a child. Don’t ever imply that I would.”

Sam holds his hands up in a gesture of peace.

…

“You’ve got my friend in quite the pickle here, little guy.”

His shoulders stiffened but he didn’t look up, instead, he tenses, and curls his fingers around the pendant he wore with whitened knuckles, curling further into himself as he did. He took it in and noted it to memory, but wasn’t to be deterred, and turned to his next tactic of interrogation that was held for those that he refused to lay harm to in order to get what he wanted.

He points at the plants hanging out of his pack, he may not know all of them like his brother and the Gardener does, but he recognizes a few of them. “Where’d you get that from?”

Silence, not even a glance of acknowledgement, the boy just sits there, staring ahead, fingers curled around his pendant.

Gabriel purses his lips at the lack of response. “Hey, look at me.”

The boy huffs. “Where are you?” His voice is soft, like a light breeze dancing through the trees, it reminded him of someone, he just couldn’t place a name as to who it was.

He stares at the back of his head. “What do you mean?” He waves a hand. “I’m right here.”

“I know where you’re standing but I don’t know the exact placement.”

“What does that mean?” The Archangel steps around to face him directly, staring into his dull forest green eyes. “You’re blind.”

“Congratulations, genius, I can’t see you, but I can feel you?”

He tilts his head, pulling the spare chair in the corner over to sit in front of him, he stares at him cautiously, though he knows he doesn’t see him, it feels better having actual eyes on him, leaning back in his chair as though preparing for a strike to follow from his sudden motions. When he didn’t make any ill-meant movements, he seemed to relax a bit more, but still sat on a hair trigger.

“You can feel me?”

“Your vibrations, the beat of your heart, the thrum of your grace. It’s easier to feel angels, because everyone’s grace beats differently.”

“So, you can see angels.”

The boy stares at him dully. “No, I can’t, blind, remember?”

“Right, right, you can feel angels.”

He nods. “Yes.”

Gabriel stares at him, studying him silently, he looks so familiar, he’s never met this kid in his entire lifetime, and yet, he feels as though he’s known him all his life. “What’s your name?”

He blinks. “I don’t care to know yours, why do you want to know mine?”

“Fine, since we’re going to be shy about it, I’ll go first, I’m Gabriel.” He holds out a hand for him to shake, the boy stares at him and blinks, and he remembers a moment later, and slowly lowers his hand. “Your turn.”

“Tarragon. My name’s Tarragon.”

“Nice to meet you. You’re a Nephilim, aren’t you?”

He seems surprised, Tarragon clearly hadn’t expected that sort of question, nor for him to recognize that fact. He stares at him with wide eyes, his mouth opening for a moment, then closing, before he finally speaks. “How do you know?”

“I can see your little itty-bitty wings growing in. I’d say by them being so little still that you’re not too old. Perhaps a few hundred years at most. Who’s your parent?”

Tarragon shakes his head. “What are you? Seeing as you clearly know what I am.”

“I’m an Archangel, little fella, the Messenger at your service. You remind me of someone I know.”

He gains a shrug of indifference, and his eyes wander down to the pendant he had been twirling between his fingers the entire time, and he curls his fingers around it, holding it close. He tilts his head as his mind slowly supplied the desired thoughts, he recognized that pendant and he was slowly remembering from where-no way.

“Mind if I see that pendant you’ve got there?”

“Yes, I do, actually.”

He finally moves, leaning forward, pressing two fingers to his forehead. Curls, soft to the touch, brush over his fingers as the boy fell forward, and his eyes rolled up, breathing evening out, and caught him as he fell. Settling him back against the back of the chair he was sitting on, he slowly reaches for the pendant, he held it in his hand for a moment, staring down at it in mild shock. The pendant wasn’t a pendant, it was a key, and he knew what the key was for, it had been his brother’s in the beginning, and then he had given it to-no freaking way.

Gabriel slips the long chain from around his neck, up over his head, and hid it in his pocket as he rose to his feet, stepping around the sleeping boy, and made his way to knock on the warded door to be let out again. Sam closes the door behind him, eyes filled to the brim with questions as to what he was able to find out, but the Archangel shakes his head, he is not answering any questions at the moment, he had more pressing matters at hand.

“I’ll be back.”

He didn’t give much more of a warning as he snapped out, leaving the hunter standing there in mild surprise, and the young Nephilim sleeping soundly in the locked room before him.

…

“Recognize this?”

He dangles the long necklace by a finger, and the other’s eyes widen in surprise at seeing it again, it had been missing since his death, and the Garden had been locked for ages, no one could get in without the key, a large dark hand reaches up to cradle the pendant in their palm, rubbing a thumb over it in surprise.

“Where did you find this?”

“Who did you give it to?”

Warm emerald eyes meet his and there was a slight tilt of the head in question of the odd request, they would have assumed the other already knew.

“I gave it to Joshua.” The look down at it again. “Where did you find it?”

“I found it on a kid.” He drops the chain into the others palm, nimble fingers curl around the necklace, eyes sparkling in remembrance. “You found it on a child?”

The shorter of the two snorts. “He has wings, Raphael, small itty-bitty growing wings.”

His eyes widen considerably, for once in his long life, the Healer was left stunned, unsure as to what he should say.

“You found the key with a Nephilim?”

Gabriel smiles up at his older brother, reaching out to pat him on the shoulder, stepping back again. “Congrats, bro, you’re a grandpa.”

Raphael stares at him with wide eyes that nearly matched the young boy’s locked in the panic room down in the bunker under the two Winchester’s guard, just a slight shade off. A slight disapproving shine, perhaps mixed with worry, mixed in with immense surprise at the whole turn of events. Gabriel was joyful to see such emotions from his older brother, it meant he cared for him, even though he’d never met him.

“I have a grandson?”

“Well, Joshua called you his papa, didn’t he, so technically, any children he’d have would be your grandchildren, I think, I’m pretty sure.” The older Archangel stares at him. “Wanna meet him?”

…

Sam Winchester was surprised at the sudden return of the Messenger, with the stunned Healer in tow, and they both demanded to be let back in the panic room down below. He couldn’t really deny them their request and led them down to the lower level, silently unlocking the door, and pulled it open.

Raphael stood in the doorway, staring in shock at the young boy that was resting back against the backrest of the chair, his head leaning back as his chest rose and fell with the soft motions of slumber. He was nervous to enter, and his brother coaxed him in with a slight shove to his lower back, forcing him forward.

He was small, his father had been on the smaller side too, there was no denying he was Joshua’s, their resemblance was uncanny, he had his jawline. The rounded nose. Almost shaped eyes. He had his curls, and from what his brother had said, he has his eyes, and he couldn’t miss the budding wings growing under his shoulders.

He couldn’t stop the pride from swelling in his chest at the sight of him.

This was his grandson.

Raphael takes in his appearance and clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Is he homeless? He does not look well cared for. Do you know if he has a place to stay? Why is he barefoot? How did he come about having Hemlock in his possession?”

“Wow. Raph. You’ve only known of his existence for, like, maybe shy of seven minutes, and you’re already being the ‘protective grandpa’, it’s weird, but it suits you, older brother.”

The older Archangel ignores his younger brother, stepping further into the room, coming to kneel in front of the Nephilim in silence. He reached a cautious hand out and caressed his cheek softly, his grace touched his mind softly, and he took a deep breath from the waking from a well deepened slumber. His eyes slowly blinked open, and stares at him with dull green eyes, a small hand reaches up cautiously to curl around his, and he realizes in mere seconds, that the boy is blind.

He smiles at him, though he knows he can’t see it, but the emotion that comes with a smile is physically felt.

“Hello, little one.”

The boy smiles slightly. “You’re Raphael.”

He smiles again. “Yes, how did you know?”

“My dad described your voice, how it sounded, deep and rumbly, like thunder, and your grace is staticy, I can feel it.”

“You see through your connection with the Earth, don’t you?”

The boy nods lightly. “Yes. Dad said he considered you his father, would that make you my grandfather?”

Gabriel snorts, and he chuckles softly, nodding lightly. “Yes, I guess that would make me your grandfather, what’s your name, little one.”

“My name is Tarragon.”

Raphael chuckles softly. “Of course, Joshua would name his child after a plant.”

Tarragon smiles. “Dad thought he was poetic.”

“He most certainly did.”

The boy raises his hands slightly. “Can I feel you?”

He takes his hands gently, pressing them to his cheeks. “Yes, you may.” The small hands are warm and soft as they feel his face, taking a mental picture of what he looks like, and Tarragon smiles. “You’re not what I expected.”

“Oh?” Gabriel snorts again, and he ignores him, focusing on the boy before him. “What did you expect?”

“I expected you to look grumpier, dad always said you were grumpy, but you don’t feel like it.”

Gabriel actually laughs.

“I am not grumpy!” The Nephilim laughs softly at his indignation. “Why does everyone always say that!”

“You smile a lot, you have smile lines, dad always said you were very happy.”

“I am, I always try to find a reason to be happy.” He takes his hands when he’s done feeling his face and presses a kiss to both of his palms. “Can I ask you something?”

“Mhm.”

Raphael moves their hands slightly. “Why do you have Hemlock in your pack?”

Tarragon sighs softly. “I was collecting samples when they captured me, I think it was because they saw me replace the ones I took with something new, dad always says we’re allowed to take, but we must always give back.”

“Samples for what?”

“I like studying them, I have a journal that I write all my findings in, dad was teaching my everything you can make with different herbs and plants when he……when he went away and never came back.”

The Archangel stares at him. “He was teaching you to be an apothecary?”

“Yea,” the boy nods lightly. “That’s what he called it.”

“You have a journal?”

“Yes,” the blind child nods, pulling his right hand from his, and reaches out, feeling around for the flap of his pack, and when he manages to find it and open it, he pulls a thick leather journal out, holding it out to his newfound grandfather. “This is my journal.”

“May I see?”

“Mhm, go ahead.”

The Healer takes the book carefully, cracking it open to a random page, rubbing his fingers over the page, it’s written in braille, and there’s a rather detailed sketch of a stalk of Lavender on the other half of the page. “This is amazing, Tarragon, did you do this all yourself?”

“Yea.”

He rubs a finger over the drawing. “And the drawing?”

“Yes, I did that, very carefully.”

The Archangel flips through a few pages before closing it, and passing it back to the boy, whom feels out for his pack to place his journal back inside. “Tarragon, do you know what the pendant you wear is?”

The Gardener’s son nods lightly. “Dad said it was the key to the Garden, that only he could open it, and in turn, only I could in the wake of his passing.”

“Would you be willing to come with us to open the Garden?”

He smiles slightly. “Can I explore it?”

Raphael smiles in kind. “Of course, it’s yours by birthright.”

…

“So, do you lock everyone in the dungeon or am I just that special?”

Having the warmth of his grandfather against his side, his fingers curled around his arm, was comforting. The two hunters and their angel friend the ones who had attacked him and taken him with them, stood in front of him. The one hunter was finishing polishing his firearm and he heard him putting it back together again, as though he was trying to intimidate him, it didn’t have the desired effect, and his blindness did nothing from giving him the dullest look he could muster, and Gabriel chuckled softly at his side.

“Nope,” the chair creeks as the hunter sits back. “Only the ones who swallow people.”

Raphael and Gabriel exchange looks. “Swallow?”

Sam nods. “Yea, we were trying to be peaceful, but he went on the offensive, the ground swallowed Dean from the neck down, we couldn’t get him out until Cas came.”

“I did nothing wrong; I was replacing what I took, and you snuck up on me, I was startled, it was your own fault, but, I do apologize.”

Raphael glares at the three of them. “You ambushed and attacked a blind child?”

“He’s blind?”

Tarragon nods. “Since the day I was born, let me tell you, though I’m used to it, and have learned to live with it, sometimes it can be a struggle, like sometimes I don’t know when it’s night or day and it’s not fun. Food labels are not written in braille and I often have to ask people to show me where the things are that I’m looking for and walking barefoot everywhere can grow painful, especially in summer and winter.”

Dean makes a face, he knows he does, he can feel it. “Why not wear shoes, then, easy fix.”

“Because, I can see through the ground, somewhat, when I wear shoes, I’m like a chicken with it’s head cut off, I don’t know where I’m going or where I’m at and I tend to run into people because I don’t have a stick or a guide dog.”

“You could just avoid them.”

“Sure, asshole, it’s that easy. Why don’t you wear a blindfold and take a walk down a sidewalk during the lunch rush without any help, see how you do.”

The Healer pats the hand curled around his upper arm and the boy turns to look up at him. “We will get you a guide. You should wear shoes through winter, especially through winter, or you’ll get frostbite, and that’s rather unpleasant.”

Tarragon nods lightly. “Yes, grandpa.”

Dean chokes. “Grandpa!”

Raphael glares at the hunter. “Is that a problem, Winchester?”

“No, no, it’s just funny, my bad.”

Gabriel sighs on his other side. “We’re taking him with us, guys, thanks for finding him.”