He had initially thought that this place was akin to Hell, after his first few weeks being trapped here. But a chance encounter with a surprisingly calm and unthreatening Aziraphale had brought the reality of it all into stark relief. It was irritating, being trapped in this place through unknown means, but it hadn’t been utterly painful. Humans were, well, humans, but at least he had been coming around to the idea that he wasn’t being directly punished.
When he found himself in downtown DC, in the middle of the night, outside of his own ability and volition, however, Gabriel realized that this city was closer to Hell than he had realized.
That had been several days ago - how many, the archangel had long lost count.
Fear was not something he really felt at all - it had been an emotion beneath him, something humans had to deal with more than he had. He’d divorced himself from it and most other emotions that were unpleasant long ago, before time had even begun.
That had been before he’d turned a corner and seen his long lost brother standing there. Impossibly beautiful, even as the Fall contorted his elegant features; dressed in the finery befitting the Morningstar, the wounds Michael had given him when she had cast him out - and behind him, the legions of those two thirds of the fallen stars rising. The smell of ozone, burning flesh and brimstone filled the air - and Gabriel reached for a sword that had long since been set aside for the bureaucracy of Heaven.
Hello, brother. Nice of you to join us. You...will be joining us, won’t you? After that terrible mix up, letting those two end the War...And you know what happened the last time an Archangel wanted a war and failed, don’t you? Not a very...divine thing to want, Gabriel.
Sweat beaded his brow, and his eyes glanced sharply to the side. They stood there at his side as well, dark hair and soft features marred with the burns of hellfire. They went by a different name now - this was impossible. He’d only just seen Beelzebub not a year prior when this had all went down; how could they be -
He was deeply ashamed to admit that he had fled, that night. Madness reigned the streets, and he was one lone angel against the unholy horde. Unarmed, surrounded by feeble and witless humans, there was no way to avoid a catastrophe in the street unless he had ran and found a place to sort out a strategy.
For six days, Gabriel had been fighting them off. No matter where he moved to, they seemed to happen upon him. Without a weapon, with strict orders to not make himself known to the humans around him, he had shockingly taken to actually protecting a small group of humans inside a building. You couldn’t protect the lower choirs before from this legion of the damned. But these humans don’t have anything to do with that war. They were meant to be caught up in the second war, not this one!
None of them knew the truth - for the moment. Without a sword, he was made to use what angelic power he dared in the presence of these mortals - all of them appeared to be hiding from their own fears. Lucifer and the demons would be on them in an instant if they found them here in this office building.
Office buildings. At least it was somewhat of a familiar setup. Unfortunately, he was not the strategist, Michael was - and she was nowhere to be seen. He was clever, of course, but this was madness - and apparently, he came to understand, humans needed actual food and water to sustain their lives. The three children holed up with a couple of adults had began to whine about it after a few days.
And so, today, on the sixth day, the Archangel Gabriel was out in the streets near dusk, running an actual errand for these irritating humans that he absolutely had not any concern for whatsoever. Armed with what they had called a “baseball bat” - which he may or may not have blessed just in case he had to face down literally Satan - he went around to these shops that offered food - which he still had an extreme distaste for, but at least the children would stop whining about it.
