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[Anna is, despite the late hour and gruesome noises wafting in as background ambiance, wandering about the city. Deep in the city, in what looks like the slums. Dirty, and not just from the Darkness curling in every nook and cranny. It's filthy for other reasons, decaying with a lack of TLC, underpopulated by the rich and overpopulated by the poor.

There was blood running from her nose, and even a quick wipe to it does little to stem the admittedly slowing flow. She looks pale, more so than usual, tired, dizzy. Even a bit green around the gills, so to speak. Like she's uneasy on her own footing.]

Again? [......]

This place is disgusting. [She doesn't sound malicious, irritated, or anything of the like. Just .. tired.] This city is no different from anywhere else on Earth. The poor are always left to rot in their misfortune, while the rich sit on high and turn a blind eye.

[She lifts an arm, the force of her Grace extending, wiping a creature to roadkill instantly. Even if she staggers in the wake of it. A moment later, after she's composed herself, she shuts the feed off.]

[[ooc: So Anna's been canon-updated again! This time, taken from The Song Remains the Same, just after having landed in the past. So she's ... a little worse for wear. Determined, but really weak. Good thing Sam ain't around right now! 8D]]

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[Gabriel's aware of timelines like he's aware of just about anything back home. He vanished off the grid when the Winchesters outed him, but he poked his head out of his hole when he felt the twinge of a timeline shifting, that something could change here in the present.

And there were two angels worth of Grace written all over it.

So when Anna arrives, bleeding and looking like hell with the reek of a Grace-weary angel all over her that suggests pulling something off she shouldn't have done, Gabriel knows automatically where she's from and where he has to be.

He lands deftly wherever she is without preamble or fanfare.]

Anna. [His tone's a warning, as much as it is an expression of joy at seeing her here again.]

[It's the first time in a long time that Anna shows any form of hesitation at Gabriel's arrival. Her tenseness, as if she wants to step back, to let her fight or flight instinct kick in- but then, it's only him. No need to, is there? She wouldn't have been able to out fly him in her current state anyway. Not with her wings as shredded and burned, torturously twisted and broken as they are. Raphael's handiwork.

Her smile is small, but there for her brother. She remembers everything, at the very least.]

I didn't miss the wedding, did I?

[That's good. That's very good. Gabriel internally breathes a sigh of relief and takes a sauntering step forwards.] Beat it by two weeks, but it's creepin' up the back fence. You need to quit flyin' the coop, little sister. You're gonna give us all complexes.

Don't mean to. [She looks a little guilty, sheepish even.]

[He claps her on the back gently.] I know, Red. Believe me- I know. But at least you're back and the worst thing that could possibly happen right now is Jinx getting you fitted with something terrible for the wedding.

Or... Jinx and Alice fighting over what you're gonna wear to the wedding.

I don't mind wearing what she wants. It's your guys' wedding.

[She'd shrug, but her shoulders feel too heavy with the near dead-weight of her wings.]

[Gabriel notices and promptly slings an arm around her, offering to hold some of that weight from her.] C'mon, then. Let's get you back to the ol' homestead.

[Only a little hawkward- but she's not protesting. At all, actually.]

I've only been gone a few days, haven't I?

That's the way it goes. Years for you- a few days for us. Hell hath no fury like the Core on the rag.

[So she was.]

It's weird. Last time it was just a few hours... This time it was months. Or maybe a little longer. [Time flies when you're being tortured, eh bro?]

[Gabriel drops all casual pleasantries, releases her shoulders and turns to face her, expression serious.] How bad?

[Hey hey hey. She'd been kind of enjoying faking all this normalcy, thanks.]

How what bad? [Yes, she's playing it off. Not because she's evading, but just ...]

The Canadian hockey this season.

[A beat and a gentle eyeroll.] Back home, Anna.

[It's a good thing his sarcasm has always slipped off her shoulders and never really pissed her off. At least for Anna's sake.]

I have my Grace back, so they weren't going to just kill me. Not that it stopped them from doing everything but.

[She refuses to wince as she stretches out her normally magnificent wings. Wings that are torn, broken and bloodied, burned shredded, right down to the Grace.]

[There's a sickening twist in Gabriel's stomach- and he thought his wings looked pretty shabby. He'd never been tortured, however, and not by his own family. It was one thing hearing that it had happened, but seeing it.]

Yeah, I never actually knew how bad it got. Anna, I'm so sorry. [And he means it- the Winchesters drove him deep into his hole, lest the angels hear of his return, and he could have hid Anna away, tried to recondition her, except, honestly, even knowing her plans, even knowing that he does care about the Winchesters somewhat...

There's moments where he can't say she wasn't right.

But it wouldn't matter. There would be someone else. Azazel had a stock of kids to choose from. Just because every prophecy wrote out the name WINCHESTER in red Sharpie didn't mean there weren't plans in place.]

[Well maybe Anna hadn't been smart enough to go looking for Gabriel. Maybe she couldn't find him. Maybe she figured she didn't have time, or maybe she really was working for Raphael in some mind-twisted, fucked up way.

Whatever it was, it had happened. She'd ended up here, and here they were, discussing her stay in prison. His apology is ... it means something. Maybe not what it should, and logically she knows there's something wrong with that, but hey. At least she can take it at surface value.]

It isn't your fault.

It is. [In some ways, in many ways. He bites the inside of his cheek and looks away from her.] I could've showed myself at any time- intervened, done something- and I didn't. And you got hurt because of it.

[Had he known? ...Does it really matter?]

So? I don't blame you for it. [Maybe a little.] No one likes standing up to Michael.

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