Okay, babes! Let's just hope nobody threatens to kill me for this chapter because I make this shit up as I go along. That said, enjoy and I don't own supernatural.

Chapter Two: Darkest Sunrise

The first day of life for any creature is a day nobody will forget except the creature itself. As it's mind wakes up maybe it wonders just where everybody is or if they will ever come back, only to find it had never actually been alone and had simply shut it's eyes. It was the first day of being coddled close to a warm body, of receiving endless kisses and squeezes for now and a long time to come. It was also the start of a realization that most come up with when they're teenagers or, sometimes, barely out of training pants. Nothing lasts forever. All things come to an end, some things sooner than later, yet what doesn't begin can never end. If you looked at it this way, it would be very depressing, indeed, for there would have been no warmth, kisses or coddling to be had in the dark of night or even the light of day. There would be no firsts to be remembered, no pride in accomplishments and nobody to wipe away shining tears.

Another saying goes here. You can't miss what you never had but you know what others would miss.

It was very true for a sleeping fledgling barely wrapped in a cloud with downy wings soaking up the approaching rays of dawn. The songs and prayers of his siblings were already trilling clearly through the Heavens in an endless symphony of love to their father, one who the tiny one in question had a vague impression of before that, too, slipped away. Amber eyes blinked sleepily as a single ray of golden light caused the speckles of gold to shimmer, entrancing no one but catching the eye of several small creatures. They could feel this peculiar stranger and it felt lonely. There seemed to be a hole in it that wasn't filled like the other little ones' playing in the clouds.

And so it was that the fledgling was so caught up in sleeping that he nearly missed his very first sunrise, a very important occasion in anyone's life. To see such simple beauty across a clear sky with fresh eyes could only make it more delightful. The babe seemed to think so, cooing as he reached unsteadily for a bright orange tail of color trailing from the bright orb. It almost seemed to understand his thoughts as it selfishly moved away, unwilling to be held in such grubby little fingers. The babe whined in disappointment. And then he looked through the gate.

All through the clouds, giggling fledglings were surrounded by bright, colorful light that danced and played between fingers and toes to the whims of their elders. A glance at his own tiny digits only reaffirmed what he already sort of knew. The babe was different. Too different, it would seem, to have the simple pleasure of strong arms holding onto him while equally warm colors glided around him. A child should never know the feeling, especially not a little angel, but on such a day and as such an innocent being it's heart broke a little. Twinges of emotion that felt like pain beat across his chest in steadily growing waves and when he accidentally scooted himself through a wet and uncomfortable patch in the clouds, it reached a climax. Lips quivering this time in genuine tears, blue streaks fell from his eyes and mixed with the clear Water.

Soft bawls rang quietly in the darker clouds outside Heaven's gate where just yesterday, a battle was fought and won yet lost a fledgling his mentor. A place where the day before, a golden light shone down on the black imprint of wings and holy blood to become the first ever orphan in the palace of God. So it was a very good thing said former golden light was sitting where he was. The thing about Water is that she's a worrier. She worries constantly about the plants she feeds, about the animals who drink her, about the land she sits on. Right now she was worried about the tears. There was a tiny thing just sitting in her, crying it's Grace away with no one to hear it. Droplets cascaded up the little one's arms and legs, feeling the delicateness of limbs and soul before mingling with the tears to wipe them away. She had no voice so couldn't sooth him but she could still sing.

Oh, what a song she had.

The weeping fledgling was quick to settle into the arms of Water as the tears kept on coming. She had to admit to herself that this was the first fledgling to hear her beloved song. The rest were so enchanted by Fire and Air, her brothers, and so none truly heard her unless they had come to ask her for fish. This little one had nothing to ask, though, and she had everything to give to him. A song was the least she could do to save it at least some of the heartache she felt radiating from it's very core. The soft swishing of a stream, the happy gurgle of a brook and the heady sound of raindrops dripping to the ground made a soothing symphony that the animals only ever heard. Their ears perked up as they settled close to their caretaker just to listen for a little while. Deer rested with wolf, rabbit with hawk and they all simply felt the melody.

Imagine Water's surprise when the little one sang back.

It wasn't her song exactly but to her, it was much, much better. Instead of her soft voice the fledgling possessed a sweetness that reminded her of honey or the feel of a drifting feather just barely brushing the surface of skin. It rose and fell like an ocean's might yet soared, sometimes, like an eagle on the hunt drifting on air currents. Her heart soared with it as his song mingled with her own in perfect harmony and at last, she knew she had found her one. Water wasn't just mother or provider. She could put out the mightiest of fires and make them shrink back at the sight of her. She shaped land with her patience, strength and wit while controlling the very wind with her depths. Nobody had tamed her yet.

Fire had been wrangled by Michael, quick to anger and quick to be extinguished. She wondered with some amusement if it was a sign of things to come. Air had also been easily twisted around by Raphael's words, outwitted in a game of puzzles. Water had little respect for that one. So easily impressed by surface thoughts. The next one made her smile. Earth was biding her time, amused at their brothers' willingness to be nothing more than a tool instead of a conscious being with thoughts and feelings. Her sister already knew her little one was coming though it would take time. She was patient. She would wait.

Now Water herself had been tamed by a voice, a soul and a single whine from the now silent babe's throat. Her only regret, she thought as power was willed to him, was that she could no longer hope to care for him like she had done with the animals and plants. A silent prayer was never answered because at that moment, Water's song ceased to exist within her. Now the light shone in him, her little fledgling chosen by her and for her. Earth said a quiet goodbye and wouldn't be heard from for centuries to come. The babe was alone again just a short hour after having found someone to cradle and rock him. Sure, she wasn't warm or showering him with kisses but it was as close as he was going to get for a good long while.

The animals were watching him expectantly, waiting for the bare pool to be filled so that they could sate their thirst. One, a giant wolf, got to her feet and made her way to the fledgling's side. A whispering voice told him what they wished for him to do then she pressed her cold nose against his cheek to make him giggle. She, too had fallen in love with the babe and although he wasn't one of her own, perhaps he could run with her. The wolves had always worshipped the moon so now that he carried Water within his soul, they would follow him to the ends of the earth. Although she was alone perhaps he didn't have to be. For the first time she began to think about cubs of her own instead of stealing others. Making a life instead of taking one. A promise she made to the fledgling that as long as her kin lived, there would forever be a lover of the moon to soothe his tears. Trotting off after a quick drink she resolved to keep a close eye on this one.

The infant just sat there in something akin to disbelief. He didn't make a sound as the animals drank their fill and left him alone again. The sun was still high in the sky and almost seemed to be angry with him just for being alive, though he didn't know why. Bright amber eyes stared dully towards the sky, more violet than blue, and as they flashed gold with just a hint of clear blue images danced for him in vivid colors and sound. A beautiful face with flashing eyes and a slight smile scooping up a fledgling, golden headed and laughing. Triple pairs of wings flowed around the fledgling before the Archangel started to glide casually across the sky, teaching the little one how to flap his delicate wings. Another flash of the same face reflected in ice and fire made the babe squeal and it quickly faded into the back of his mind.

Another flash. Huge white wings positively glowing with Grace as an older Archangel swooped into battle with his Legion, lacking somewhat in elegance but a definite force to be reckoned with. blink. The same face with blood and tears streaming down until it was an unrecognizable jumble, before being brushed away roughly by a battle scarred hand. He seemed older, if only in the eyes that screamed too many deaths, too many centuries. An older part of him solemnly whispered that he would learn in time though it would hurt so much more than it did now. The babe tilted his head softly and the sounds of God's Seraphim singing their praises came rushing back. Gold melded smoothly with amber until there was no sign an extra color had ever been there. There was no glow surrounding his eyes and the lines of tattoos had faded from his skin.

Blinking slowly, the baby gurgled and flopped on his bare little butt in order to devour his toes better. They looked quite interesting from his point of view and in order to study them further, he would, of course, need to taste them. Incredible agility brought his toes easily in reach until he abruptly decided he no longer wanted his toes. The fledgling wanted his wings, which were currently fuzzy and absolutely useless when it came down to flight. Not that he wanted to fly, oh no. Not yet. After a great deal of difficulty on his part and a few soft fwap's to his face, though God only knows how that happened, he managed to get a wing cradled around his chest. It was a pretty amazing wing. Gold, cream and a few specks of amber all accented by fluffy down.

And then he stuck it in his mouth.

The infant didn't exactly like the taste of it or the texture on his tongue, but it did make him feel a great deal better about his current situation. With a delicate ridge held delicately in his toothless little mouth it was pretty damn obvious he was either bipolar or waiting for something. Possibly both. Most of the time this would be frowned upon, as the elder angels broke this habit quite quickly if it ever developed at all. Sucking on little baby wings might have made a truly adorable picture but it also grew into a habit. Imagine little fledglings just going around with a wing tip in their mouths or possibly, someone else's. Someone who needed those primary feathers preferably dry and in one piece in order to fly to and from a battle field. In human terms, it was like having a little leech stuck to your back all day steadily growing larger until suddenly, it's sucked out a lung, a few arteries and maybe even a kidney. Okay, not the best comparison but considering some demons do look like leeches there's some hope for that analogy to work.

But not really. The short of it is, wings sucking is frowned upon.

Ah, well. What the fledgling didn't know couldn't hurt him. He did end up stopping when a few feathers ripped off from the force of his suckling and he ended up having a nice little cry over it before going back to his toes. They were terribly fascinating, after all. All pinkish and pudgy with gleaming little toenails. They didn't taste particularly good what with all the dirt, mud and other things he'd been crawling around in. Beggars can't be choosers, though. He couldn't exactly go around sticking other angel's toes into his pink gums and slobber all over them. Not because it wasn't polite since let's face it, the fledgling's a baby. Said baby just doesn't want to taste other people's toes and that was that.

There's something to be said about the intelligence at work here. Which is to say, not much, when a decision came to mind about twice the toe gobbling goodness and that was how he ended up where he currently was. Somewhere between a pretzel and a squat. It really shouldn't have been possible but millennia from now, two men are going to be scarred forever by that very same flexibility used in other ways. The taste of toe jam gets old after the first century or two. Pausing for a second in his play, the fledgling heard voices coming from behind the Gate. Young ones not much older than him but in a flash of gold, he knew they wouldn't play with him. The youngest was slightly snooty and the eldest was strange even by his reckoning. Just staring aimlessly into the darkening sky as if he were searching for something. That part the nameless little angel could understand. After all, he himself was searching for a future.

It wasn't time to meet his brothers though. The gold had said they would come together in amazing circumstances and that his life would change because of it. It had also become exasperated by the childish squeals and throaty gurgles instead of actual words, or maybe it had just left because it was laughing too hard. The sweet voice has said to wait and so he would wait. The voice was friendly, like Water. Or maybe not like Water because the voice was like his bigger brothers' and it was all deep and booming but much, much nicer. The fledgling wasn't afraid of whoever it was and that's all that mattered.

The two brothers were soon scolded by their mentors and guided away from the Golden Gates which, sadly, hid an equally golden head of hair behind it. The promise he'd made to the gold voice was nearly broken by the force of his longing for attention. It seemed as though to compensate, a cloud wrapped it's fluffiness around him in an embrace eerily reminiscent of the elemental goddess that had merged her powers with his own. Later he'd discover that it was this elemental power that kept him sane through the years. Cradled in the slightly damp fluff, the babe blinked his big amber eyes and sniffled dismally.

Babbling to himself in an effort to soothe his aching baby heart, his attention was caught by the fickle sun lowering from the sky. The darker colors avoided him still and hissed insults that he couldn't understand in his ears, yet at the slightest glimpse of a silvery goddess Fire fell silent. Moon was the embodiment of water, controlling her tides in ebbs and flows that brought with it incredibly beautiful music. It was the Moon that had taught Water to sing, unlike Air or Fire, who weren't able to understand the beauty of music. She could feel this fledgling was different and that he would listen, for a time. Silver rays beamed softly in a subdued version of her own brother, the sun. In one ear there was a song, sweet to his ears, and in the other there were horrible hisses of flames and demons. Michael fought them off with his Holy Fire but the bad place had Fire too. Fire was neither good nor bad but simply was.

The bad place. Angel, as the moon now called him, knew a little of the bad place. From the imprint of wings on the ground, feathers mixed in blood and whisperings of gold in his mind he painted a picture. A horrible picture. Screaming angels, demons, monsters all tied to metal and steel while their enemies cut them open repeatedly, ripping out organ after organ, muscle after muscle until all that was left was blackness. Wings in tatters and empathy falling short, the angels would scream and shriek at their brethren before becoming lords in the very place they had once despised. The moon whispered that he would never go their and the gold whispered something inaudible to all but the Moon. She shushed him, calling the gold Jibril and scolding him lightly for his words. Angel giggled at their argument.

Moon caressed him in her light and whispered to him to sleep, for in the morning light her brother would bother him no more. There was a tone to her voice that had the gold Jibril cringing back in amused fright and the sun's light dying quicker than normal. This, too, started a say that should be familiar to most men.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. To go further into this, Hell hath no fury like an infuriated Moon goddess who's adopted baby angel just got nightmare inducing tales told to him by her very own brother. Pass the bow and arrows. In his hiding place deep inside the abyss, Sun cringed. God above, this was going to be an interesting night.

This may seem slightly sexist, but it's not. Women are most compared to earth and water, sometimes spirit though that goes two ways. As for the elements being personified, fire represents a bad temper but a heart full of both love and leadership. Air represents clarity, a link between people and a flexibility towards life if a little cold and detached from the world. Earth is steadfast and patient but adverse to change. Water is sensitive but sometimes uses this against people. Spirit is flighty and often unattainable and can be many shades of gray, or any color really. Yes, this came off of a website for astronomy so this isn't mine either. Disclaimer at the top. Not mine.

Wait. Supernatural doesn't own baby Gabriel. Oh my sweet merciful Sammy, he's up for grabs… REVIEW!