Disclaimer: I own nothing.

And I'm still not done with Gabriel!

No, I'm not going to completely destroy him again. At least not as badly.

So, I'm not really sure how to build up the relationship between him and my OC, but when I do, I'll post a whole new fic for that. I promise!

In the mean time, sit back and enjoy!

Love always,

Avoline

He flew ahead of Castiel, his heart pounding against his ribs. She was okay. His favorite little human was safe. Thank his father above that Sam and Dean got to her as soon as they did. How could he have been so stupid as to turn on Metatron? He really needed to have his brain checked.

He could feel her energy, and wasted no time flying into the bunker.

And he saw her. Red hair cut into a short cap on her head. Wide brown eyes looking everywhere, trying to find something familiar. She had one of those god-awful truck stop blankets around her shoulders, and he could see she was barely trembling.

"Hannah," he called as he landed smoothly on his feet. She turned to him, and he swore as tears formed in her eyes. "Hannah, baby, don't cry. I'm here." She bolted for him, the cloth falling from her shoulders, and he crushed her form against his. "Oh, sugar, it's okay. I won't leave you again. I'm right here, and I won't go anywhere. I promise." He kissed the side of her head. "Oh, Hannah, I'm so sorry."

"I thought you were dead," she sobbed into his shoulder. "I thought something had happened to you, Gabriel." He closed his hazel eyes and silently vowed to never make her feel that kind of fear again.

"I know, baby, and I'm so sorry," the blond soothed into her ear. "I won't leave you again. I won't ever make you think that again." He realized that his hands were touching only skin. "Hannah, where's your shirt? Here, before you freeze to death." He shed his jacket and secured it around her shoulders. It swallowed her five foot frame whole, but at least she would be warm. "Come on, cupcake. Let's find you a warm bed and let you get some rest." He put his arm around her and lead her away, throwing the other three men a glance that told them what they wanted to know: he would explain later.

"Gabe, you were gone for so long," she breathed against him. He scooped her into his arms and carried her, feeling the exhaustion radiating from her.

"I know, Hannah babe, and I won't let it happen again," he promised. "I'm not going to leave your side again. I've made a bunch of stupid decisions, but I can fix this." He turned into one of the rooms and gently laid her on the bed. "Here, you rest. If you need anything, just whisper my name and I'll be here." Her fingers gripped his shirt before he could rise.

"Gabriel, there's something I have to tell you," she began softly. "I was hoping I could tell you at home, but home is gone. I did manage to grab something important." He combed her auburn hair as she stopped to catch her breath. Why was she panicky? She was always the level-headed one. "Back pocket." He leaned her against him and reached into her back pocket, pulling out some sort of picture.

No. Sonogram. Ultrasound.

"Hannah, is this what I think it is?" His eyes met hers, and she smiled.

Now it was his turn to panic. She was pregnant. She was carrying his child. Half human, half angel. His heart pounded in his chest as he looked at the image of the tiny life within her. He was fairly sure there was happiness within him at the news, but he was too scared for Hannah's life to notice. Would she survive the pregnancy? Could her body handle giving birth to an angel-human hybrid?

"Gabriel," she whispered, slightly fearful.

He was scaring her. He wasn't meaning to. He was pretty scared as well. But sitting there, staring at the picture like an idiot without saying a single word wouldn't ease her fears.

"How far along," he forced out, his throat tight with emotions.

"About eight weeks," she answered. "At least that's what the doctor said yesterday."

Eight weeks. She conceived right before he started trying to play Metatron for a fool. She didn't even know until yesterday. A stone of self loathing settled in his stomach. He almost killed the woman he loved and his child. How could he have been so careless?

"You don't want it."

She might as well have stabbed him with an angel blade. His gaze met hers, both filled with tears.

"Of course I want our child, sugar," he soothed. "Why wouldn't I? I just never knew if it was possible." Her fingers released his shirt and laced with his. "And I'm scared. I'm scared I'll loose you, cause this hasn't happened before. So I have no clue if you'll survive. And neither one of us know the first thing about being parents." He rested his forehead against hers. "But we'll learn together."

"And if I don't survive," she inquired.

"Then I'll do my best to raise our child. I swear it." She buried her face into his shoulder, and he stared at the picture again. He could feel it now. The small glow of joy deep within. He was going to experience something amazing. He was playing a part in the greatest miracle ever, and he would watch that miracle grow and become something wonderful.

If he could only ignore that nagging fear that everything would go wrong.