-Sleep-

It was difficult to deal with the swell of emotions that rushed to her head. She sat slowly onto the edge of the motel bed, contemplating over her feelings in a calm and assertive manner. She sifted through the trains of thought, organizing them and storing them. Deliberating slowing her mind down, she took a deep breath. One emotion she couldn't place. It was like the terrifying sense you get when you're plummeting to the ground at such a high velocity, when you catch yourself, your stomach is in your chest.

Realization?

Angst?

This anonymous sensation caused her to panic for a moment; before she reassured herself it was nothing and pressed it to the uttermost reaches of her mind. She wasn't a stupid teenager anymore, and these things should no longer bother her… But,

'Gabriel. He's dead.'

With that sentence, her mood plunged back into the unknown, basking in the overwhelmed and out of place feeling of her stomach. She felt as if she was going to spew the contents of her nonexistent lunch upon the tacky carpeted motel floor. Now, she was enormously sure that this unidentified mood had something to do with him. The two were friends, more sociable with one another than Sam and Dean. She liked his wit, and his manner. He liked her sarcasm, and her persona. Gabriel liked to muddle with her, and on more than one occurrence, she found her self popped into another country before she could shout in disapproval. She didn't though, because she knew that she didn't want to miss out on the time they would spend collectively. Only god knows how many stupid things they did together.

Slowly, she pieced it all together. The butterflies… The sudden happiness! All of that sappy romance stuff you could find in a Shakespeare romance was all because…

Her mood plunged again, and she suddenly found the urge to ball up and cry for Gabriel. Growling, she sighed and heaved herself under the old, worn our covers of the motel's bed. The door was locked, but Sam and Dean knew where she was. At the current time, she did not care about them, but only shutting her eyes and sleeping.

So, she reached over and shut the lamp off before doing just that.

Her eyes shut tight and she took a few deep breaths, whiping her mind spotless from any distressing thoughts. Her focus was to forget about Gabe, forget about Lucifer and Michael, forget about the end of the world.

No. There she goes again, reminding herself of the impending doom. Her mind spiraled lazily into different scenarios in which made her shutter with the fear of death. She opened her eyes and found uncomforting darkness which made her anxious and jumpy. She closed her eyes once again, and then pulled the covers up quickly up to her head. She slowed it all down again, blocked it all out…

Darkness...

Breath.

In…

Out.

In…

Out.

But, now, as she found herself in a trouble-free meadow, with blue skies and white puffy clouds overhead, she knew she was dreaming. She had no idea when she finally fell asleep, but she only knew of now. It bugged her, the tickling feeling of long grass on her arms and legs. She didn't like the wind either. It carried her curls of hair into different directions, opposite of her head. But, she did like something…

Sighing, she rested for a moment.

Peace.

It was a rarity, especially with the Winchesters travelling with you every day. It was either Angels or Demons. Or a poltergeist or an executioner clown. Or maybe even dolls that come to life at night and slaughter little children. Anyway, to get to the point, it was never calm or peaceful or anything like that. Always frantic and worrisome.

"Nice, huh?" a voice abruptly piped up from her right, causing her to thrash her head around so fast, it was hazardous. The man stood there, his face turned to the sky. Both hands were on his hips, and his just stood and watched. From the dirty blonde hair and distinct chin and the attitude and the way he was standing and the clothes… she knew it was him.

"Gabriel…" her voice was just above a whisper, but he heard it and turned his head down to face her. Bright starlit eyes smiled at her.

"Hey, Jen. How ya doin'?" Gabriel approached her leisurely as she stood, running a hand all the way through her long hair. Her eyes were bright too, excited to see him.

"I'm ok, I guess." Jennifer stumbled over her words, still trying to overcome the sense of the dream.

"That's… good, I guess." Gabe pulled her into a quick hug before mocking her reply. She smiled shyly once again.

"So… where are we?" she asked, looking around at the empty void of land. Gabe shrugged.

"I dunno. We're in your head."

"… You mean my dreamland?"

"You could say that."

She frowned at his short answer. By now, Gabe would have been joking and fooling with her… Maybe this wasn't a dream. Maybe it was a nightmare.

"I'm not just a dream…" Gabe started.

"Yes, you are. That's why you're here, and not acting like you."

Gabriel paused, his eyes scanning her innocent face before searing themselves into the ground.

"I'm dead."

"I know."

"Do you not care?"

"Of course I do." Jen casted a glance up to him, grasping his shirt sleeve gently. Her looked to her, and nodded, "but, what can I do… I am no angel of the lord… And I can't seize you and pull you down from a war torn heaven."

"Hm."

"Gabe…? What is wrong? You don't seem like yourself at all…" Jen's eyebrows rose high, and her eyes never left his. An emotion flashed across his expression quickly, too swiftly for Jen to register what it was. With in seconds, he was clasping onto her.

"I hate it there. They fight too much, Jenny." His words were whispered and his face was hastily dug into her shoulder. Her arms softly wrapped themselves around him, and she stayed there, being the comfort.

"Everyone fights, Gabe. It will be okay."

"You say that like it'll end soon! But, it won't! And then when it does! I'll lose you because it'll be the end of the frickin' world!" Gabe's voice rose as he backed away from Jennifer. Her expression became puzzled. He read her instantly.

"Don't act like you don't know, Jen. I care about you. More than any other human. Y'know why? 'Cause you're nota stuck-up, 'I'm so much better than you', class A, pain in the ass."

"… That's a stupid reason." Jen snorted after Gabriel's rant. He glared at her.

"Fine. I'll give you a better one."

He was now in front of her, his hands holding her head and once tangling itself into her hair. Gabriel was close now, and she could smell his breath on her cheek. He smelt like candy, and chocolate. With in a second, his lips were pressed against hers in a shy kiss, in which each person nudged one another softly. Chastely breaking apart, Gabriel placed another kiss on her lips and the again. On the third time, she caught them quickly, and smiled into him. His arms were now around her waist and holding her dearly, and his forehead was resting against hers. Her cheek was short of his as she blushed and turned away, but grasping Jen's cheek and pulling her back—

"Jen! Wake up! We gotta go!"

"Shit. Sorry." She mumbled as she recovered from the blow to her head by Sam's pillow. She cursed and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. The boys were already up and awake, showering and such.

As Jen hurried to get her sweatshirt back on, her mind darted into the dream…

Just a dream.