Dean glanced over at the passenger seat and smiled to himself – Sam was asleep, finally, after what felt like years. He looked younger, almost like the floppy-haired teenager he'd once been. He wasn't well, not by a long shot, but he was getting there. Thanks to Cas.
At the thought of his returned friend Dean's smile faded. He'd missed Castiel terribly, he could admit it to himself if not anyone else, even despite what had happened. But he'd had to leave him behind at that hospital with Lucifer in his mind. Which was something Dean couldn't comprehend. It was bad enough being alone in his own head, but having the Devil in there as well? He was always going to be grateful to Cas for helping his brother, and always guilty for it too. But Sam…
He sighed, looked around and noted the motel coming up – Sam needed to sleep in a proper bed, so he went to find one for him.
Sam barely woke when his brother stopped the car, yet another junker Dean managed to procure, and he dozed off again when he walked in the motel. A room booked and paid for for a couple of days and Sam grunted again when his door opened, and he almost fell out. Dean through, as usual, stood firm and made sure he didn't fall. And then pulled him out of the car and draped his arm over his own shoulder. "Come on, Baby Bro," he grumbled and shifted his shoulders so it was a bit more comfortable for him.
Their room wasn't far, but it took more time than usual – Sam was crashing again – but they made it, just about. The kid didn't seem to even care that Dean had only managed to get them a double room for them, just that there was a bed in front of him. There wasn't anything Dean could do to stop him from falling on it like a tree, he just made sure he did fall on it, and not on the floor. With a rueful chuckle the older Winchester then left him there to go back to the car and get their stuff.
Sam was still out, he didn't stir when his brother returned, snored a couple of times when Dean salted the room, stashed weapons in various places, and only grunted when his brother pulled off his boots, yanked off his jeans and peeled off his jacket and over-shirt. Dean didn't want to leave him alone in such a vulnerable position, Roman could turn up in their room and sing an opera and the kid wouldn't stir. He wasn't hungry himself, but he knew he had to keep his strength up, if not for himself then for his brother. Take out it was then, he'd found a pizza menu while he was making the room safer, so he ordered enough for both of them and settled in.
He did think about trying to wake Sam to eat but ended up watching him sleep, with only the TV on really low as company. As he had been doing for a couple of years at times like this he ended up talking to an Angel he found he'd missed more than he thought he ever would. "So, what the hell do I do now, Gabriel?" he said quietly and slouched in the arm chair near the bed. "I couldn't help Cas, or Sam, now one's in a psychiatric hospital and the other one needs to sleep for a month." He glanced over at Sam and huffed ruefully. "And he's taken up most of the bed. He really is a giant moose." He sighed again and glanced over at the laptop bag he'd brought in. "I really should be finding out more on Roman. You don't know how to gank the head Leviathan do you? Without getting Sam hurt or killed?" Silence, apart from a snuffle from the man in question nearby and he sighed again. "I guess not."
Gabriel watched from where he was caught in Heaven and ground his teeth in frustration. The first thing he remembered from being re-animated here was Dean Winchester talking to him as if he was standing next to him, almost as if he was a sounding board for his problems. And problems the kid had, in spades. A returned brother without a soul, more psychotic family that he hadn't known about, more demons, more creatures, Castiel making deals with an over-cocky jumped up crossroads demon, Raphael, Death, and Dad knew what else. Loss piled up on loss too. Gabriel had wanted to slap Castiel, with a semi-trailer or two, until he stopped with his stupid plans. The kid was Dean's guardian angel for crying out loud, and they all knew the Righteous Man needed one more than most. He shouldn't be making deals with demons, using other angels to collect souls, turn himself into a god-like creature rather than the angel he was. And at what price? Leviathans, and Bobby Singer. Gabriel ached for him; if he'd been able to get out of his prison he would have been able to save the crotchety old coot, and the closest thing Dean and Sam had ever had to a father. He'd struggled, fought with everything he had, all the oodles of power he could summon. But it hadn't been enough, he need more time to recharge, and whoever had reinforced his luxurious prison certainly hadn't wanted him to go anywhere. But he'd been working on it, he hadn't just been pacing the area, a suite of rooms filled with everything he could ever want – replaced every time he destroyed it in a tantrum. With a tiny gap in one of the wards that stopped him from leaving. He'd worked on it, widened it enough to slip through, but he still had to work on it some more if he wanted to use it to escape. All he could do was watch, and it took a while to be able to interact with humans, and only that really needed him. Like Dean.
So, he concentrated and forced as much of himself through the gap as he could.
Dean started awake from a doze when he felt a breeze in the room that shouldn't have been there. It was light, but enough to get him to his feet with his gun in his hand. "Who…?" he said quietly and looked around him in a hidden panic – he didn't want to show anything like that to whomever it may be, especially Leviathans. But nothing materialised, and he looked around for their stuff as he quickly made his way over to Sam. The air wasn't cold, it wasn't a ghost, demons and Roman's guys would be taunting him by now with all the ways they were going to kill him, and Bobby…. Well, he was still in two minds whether Bobby was still around or if it was wishful thinking on his part.
There was definitely something there though, the room felt … full, warmer than it had been, but not menacing, he didn't feel in danger. Which probably meant he was. "Who's here?" he asked quietly, trying not to disturb his still sleeping brother. He reached out with a hand and laid it on Sam's shoulder and held onto his gun with a tighter grip with the other.
He felt the words, as well as heard them, and it wasn't particularly reassuring. "Relax kid, I'm not going to hurt either of you. Not that I can, even if I wanted." The tone was dry and familiar, and he frowned when he looked around again.
"Gabriel?" he asked, worried and elated at the same time. "Is that you? What can't I see you?"
"Because I'm not really here, Deano," the Archangel replied, pleased. "It's difficult enough to get you to hear me."
Dean stared at nothing for a moment before he sat down heavily on virtually the only part of the huge bed Sam wasn't sprawled out on. "Holy shit, I thought you were dead. Where are you?"
"I was dead," the Angel replied darkly and looked around him. At his back and sides he was still in that suite in Heaven, in front of him was the room Dean had hired, and he felt the stretch. "I'm still stuck in Heaven; these dicks won't let me out."
"Is there anything I can do to get you out?" Dean asked, something Gabe knew was going to come out of his mouth sooner or later.
"I don't know, kid," he admitted with a shrug. "I don't know how to get out of this place, even if I can."
Dean thought for a few moments. "You're stuck in Heaven, at least you're not dead. And you're the Trickster, I'm sure you can figure it out."
Gabe snorted and smiled at him. "Didn't know you had that much faith in me, Deano," he commented, amused.
Now the kid shrugged and looked down at his sleeping brother. "You're the only one, apart from Sam, that I do believe in," he admitted, and the slight blush gave him some colour.
The Angel, even from this distance, could feel the sincerity in his words, along with a blast of raw power he hadn't felt for a while. He grinned and had a thought. "Say that again," he said firmly.
Dean frowned and looked up at where he thought Gabriel was. "I believe in you, Gabriel," he said as firmly, and waited for something to happen. When he could see a faint outline of the Trickster, almost as if his words had given the guy some strength. "I have faith in you, Gabriel," he said again, and he stood when he could definitely see something. "I can see you," he told him, and reached for the guy. "I have faith in you, the Archangel Gabriel," he said again. "God's Messenger and left hand, Gabriel the Revealer, Gabriel the Destroyer. God's Trumpet, Chief of the Angelic Guards. You're the patron saint of messengers, you're the Trickster too, Loki, the god of fire. Gabriel, I have faith in you. I believe in you." Every title and description he said, every time he assured him of his belief, of his faith, the Archangel gained more strength, more 'mojo', and it gave him the ability to force himself through the gap he'd made in his prison walls.
He pushed, shoved, forced his way out, and at Dean's last: "I believe in you," he felt his Grace regenerate to proper levels. He grinned, clicked his fingers and watched with a huge amount of satisfaction when the walls keeping him trapped shattered around him.
Dean was grinning too, and he stepped towards him, reaching an arm out to him. "Gabriel, you look solid. Are you?"
Gabe flexed his wings, sighed in relief and stepped out of Heaven and into the room, and freedom. "Hells, yeah," he told him, and grabbed hold of the elder Winchester. "Pleased to see me?"
Dean smiled, a proper, soul deep grin that he'd not felt the reason to give for a very long time. He embraced the Trickster's neck with both arms and hung on tight. "Very, Gabe," he assured him. "Very pleased."
Gabriel laughed quietly, pulled him close and kissed him. Then again, and again. And kept on doing it. He'd missed out on at least two years of this and was going to make up for that. Dean didn't seem to mind one bit. Luckily Sam slept on, completely oblivious.
End