I can try real hard, I can try to pretend
That all these dreams make any sense without you
But that just ain't true
I thought all these things would make me forget about you and me
But you're stuck in my head
You make me want to shut it all down, blow it all away
'Cos I'm nothing if I don't have you
'Cos it's all so clear that I need you here
Yeah, it's all so clear that I need you here
I'm the loser of the year
It was pathetic.
He was a damn archangel and Trickster, for Dad's sake. People used to worship him, fear the wrath and suffering he could bestow upon them. He was powerful, he was intimidating and he was able to create chaos with a simple snap of his fingers. These were simple facts that could not be denied by anyone. Unless they wanted to be dropped into a wormhole, that was.
But it was also a fact that he was in love.
Gabriel, archangel-come-pagan-god, was in love. With a human being. Sam Winchester, to be precise.
His first reaction to feeling those emotions had been the typical, knee-jerk one; flat out denial. He refused to acknowledge the way his heart always beat a little faster around the hunter, chose to ignore the lurching in the pit of his stomach every time the man looked at him, tried to block out how almost every conscious thought he had somehow strayed to the younger Winchester. It had all started a short time after he had first met the infamous Winchester brothers. He had found them unique from other hunters, more.. Well, human. And that, in Gabriel's opinion, made them interesting.
And so, he began to keep tabs on their movements. He watched them with mild interest while they were hunting, observed their amusing banter and arguments with typical Trickster glee. But over the long time he spent observing them, Gabriel found himself become increasingly twitchy every time Sam Winchester found himself in danger. He could clearly remember watching as the obsessive hunter, Gordon Walker, was pressing Sam against the warehouse wall, his fangs inching closer towards Sam's exposed flesh. Gabriel had just been on the brink of snapping himself into the building and blasting the bastard into oblivion when Sam had grabbed the razor wire and proceeded to slice Gordon's head off.
The penny finally dropped for Gabriel when the Winchesters caught up with him at the Mystery Spot. Being pressed against that fence by an angry Sam provoked a new rush of emotion inside Gabriel which only intensified the longer he stared at Sam's fuming face. Although he managed to keep his cool in front of the brothers, it was only when he had snapped himself away from the scene that he realised just how much trouble he was in. His heart was hammering against his ribs, no doubt turning them into a fine dust by now, his stomach was performing flips and he could still feel the pressure of Sam's hands on his shoulders.
After that, it became increasingly difficult for Gabriel to deny his feelings. His encounter with the brothers in TV Land only helped to cement the realisation that he had fallen and fallen hard. And of course, shortly afterwards, he sacrificed himself for the sake of the brothers. Well, that was the excuse he would later give when questioned about his actions upon being brought back to life. The brothers could stop the Apocalypse; it only made sense for him to allow them to escape. And yet deep down, Gabriel knew it was because of only one of the brothers that he stood up to Lucifer alone.
He growled in frustration, collapsing in a heap onto the motel bed, looking every inch the hormonal teenager he felt like. He wanted nothing more than to throw caution to the wind, hell, give caution the finger, zap himself into Sam's room and do things to the man that were borderline illegal. But there were two obvious flaws in this plan. The first, and most painful, was that there was no way the younger Winchester would allow Gabriel to so much as touch him. The archangel wasn't exactly in the Winchester's good books, even with the immense sacrifices he had made for the damn Apocalypse that they had kick-started. They just didn't seem to be able to look past the incidents at the Mystery Spot, especially. Gabriel rolled his eyes on the bed. While it had been fun to watch the elder Winchester die in the most inventive ways Gabriel could invent, his main goal had been to convey a very simple message. And yet that wasn't what they remembered. Instead it was the dog attack, or the car, or the tacos, which were frankly hilarious.
The second was that, for the first time in his life, Gabriel was.. Well, he was scared. He was an archangel. He didn't know what vulnerability felt like, knowing that he was always more powerful than whatever it was he was facing. And yet, the prospect of facing Sam Winchester with his emotions clearly shining through his cocky attitude only to be turned away made Gabriel feel strangely weak and lost. He honestly didn't know how he would cope when the younger Winchester inevitably turned him down, so it would be more beneficial for Gabriel's sake that he remain as silent and illusive as ever.
That didn't stop his bottled up emotions from trying to escape at every opportunity, though. More than once, he had had to fight with himself to stop him from appearing to Sam after Dean was dragged to Hell, just to offer a shoulder to cry on. It had caused him great emotional pain when Sam became addicted to drinking the demon, Ruby's, blood. He had lost count of the number of times he had mentally blown her to pieces.
Gabriel couldn't believe how far from his original glory he had fallen. He couldn't believe that, just like a teenage girl, he found himself mentally freezing up whenever he so much as spoke to Sam, or that he had become too scared to go and visit the man. He couldn't believe that he was now almost like a stalker, sitting in a motel nearby to the one the Winchester brothers currently inhabited.
An archangel following a human around like a lost little puppy.
It was pathetic.
Gabriel could have anything that took his fancy at any moment with just a simple snap of his fingers. Anything, that was, apart from the one thing he truly craved. He had tried to snap a replica of Sam into existence, but it felt.. Wrong. It didn't have Sam's sarcastic humour. It couldn't pull off as many different variances of the bitchface. It couldn't smile like Sam could. Its laugh and voice may have sounded like Sam's did but they, like everything else about it, just felt wrong to Gabriel. Sam Winchester was unique. He was special.
He couldn't just be recreated with a snap. Anything other than the real thing was an insult, an abomination.
Gabriel groaned, grabbed a pillow from above his head and jammed it over his face.
It was a cruel twist of irony.
A being that could create whatever he wanted couldn't have what he desired.
A short distance away from the motel Gabriel currently sulked in, his younger brother was perched delicately on one of the beds, watching as Dean Winchester cleaned one of their many guns, its parts littered on the bed beside him. His younger brother, Sam, was sat at the table with his laptop humming quietly, his fingers drumming on the keys. Castiel watched intently as Dean picked up another part of the weapon at random and cleaned it with immense care.
As an angel of the Lord, Castiel had little or no concept of human emotion. However, he was certain that his overexposure in the presence of humans was beginning to affect him. He was starting to feel shades of emotion; not as strongly as Sam or Dean did, but there were feelings within his vessel where there had been nothing beforehand.
Dean Winchester was to blame for the biggest shift in Castiel's perception of emotions. He and the human shared a special bond, unique to anyone else on the planet. He had been the one to haul Dean's soul back from Hell and fixed the pieces of Dean's shattered mind. He had rebelled against Heaven for the human being. They had fought back against Hell side by side. He felt closer to Dean than he had done to anyone for a long time.
He had, of course, heard of the emotion called 'love'. He knew that he loved all of his Father's precious creations, but this only helped him to realise that what he felt for Dean Winchester was stronger than that. It was strange standing in the human's presence. He just seemed to relax Castiel, as if there were something soothing about his being for the angel. It was bizarre for him when he discovered that he did not feel the same about Dean's brother. It was only the rough, crude and tactless hunter that made him feel that way.
Castiel had no idea of how to go about dealing with it. All he knew was that soon after discovering this particular revelation about his own feelings, he had become unable to get the hunter from his mind. He would hold eye contact with Dean for long periods of time, not wanting to be the first to look away, because for a reason he couldn't explain, it caused him a slight physical pain inside whenever he did. He would linger for longer than he should have done when watching Dean sleep, just because he liked seeing the peaceful, relaxed expression on his face as he dreamed.
Whenever Dean flirted with or became the sole attention of women at any random bar, Castiel would feel a rush of white hot anger raging inside him, and he would want nothing more than to hurt whoever it was draping themselves over the human. He never acted on these instincts, of course, but what alarmed him was how badly he wanted to. Often, he would keep his fury hidden, but he became distant and was more liable to snap at anyone who spoke to him. More often than not, he would simply stride from the bar, leaving Dean in the company of whatever barmaid or waitress had gravitated to him that evening, but he would not return to the motel. He tended to hang around the bar like an obedient dog awaiting its master's return, and when Dean staggered drunkenly from the building, he would be by his side in an instant, helping him to stagger back to the Impala.
Castiel frowned slightly, but allowed himself to make no noises. If he had allowed the weary sigh to escape from his lips, he knew that both Winchesters would question him about it relentlessly. He honestly didn't feel like explaining his bizarre rush of new emotions concerning Dean, particularly to the hunter himself. He would continue to do as he had always done; keep silent.
Back in the other motel, Gabriel sighed dejectedly as he crawled further up onto his bed. He snapped his fingers once and instantly an imperfect clone of Sam appeared before him. Without saying a word and avoiding eye contact, he snuggled up close to the imitation, frowning miserably when the powerful arms curled around his small body. He wasn't sure if it had been deliberate on his part or just another horrible twist in fate, but the archangel seemed to slot into Sam's side almost perfectly. Ignoring this added insult to injury, he closed his eyes and allowed his body to relax.
Angels weren't supposed to sleep, but Gabriel enjoyed the dreams sleeping brought. In his dreams, the clone was the real thing. So he snuggled closer to the duplicate, straining his imagination to breaking point and drifted off into a dream-filled sleep.
This is my first Supernatural fanfiction. I've only got up to mid-season three, so please forgive any errors.. I just got so hooked on this show and these two pairings, I couldn't resist making a fanfic xD So be nice and no flames, please? x