Title: He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

Author: OpheliacAngel

Characters & Pairings: Dean/Gabriel, Sam

Genre: Romance/Hurt/Comfort/Family

Summary: Gabriel interfered in Dean's hunt in more ways than one, little did the hunter know that he would soon interfere in other areas of his life as well. And Sam, well, Sam never saw this coming. Could be set either in the 2nd half of Season 6 or Season 7, but there's no spoilers.

A/N: Just a fairly short two chapter thing I came up with pretty quick. More dialogue, less description/imagery, which is great practice for me. As with all of my stuff, enjoy.

Chapter 1: Stepping In

Dean shivers in his sopping wet clothes, wraps useless arms around himself that can only give him the illusion of much needed warmth.

This is all Gabriel's fault. If he hadn't startled the thing, sent Dean flying into the near below freezing lake to finish the job, the Winchester wouldn't be standing here right now, freezing his ass off and wondering why Gabriel has to show up at the absolute worst of times.

Now, he just misses Sam more than anything else.

"Hey!"

Dean turns around, catches a brief glimpse of the archangel before he decides to go disappearing again.

"Son of a bitch," he can barely get the words out, as his teeth are rattling so hard and his head feels like it's turning into a cold mush.

The next thing he knows, there are strong hands guiding him down onto a bench that wasn't there before. He doesn't try to fight since he doesn't know if his tired limbs will protest or obey. After that there's something warm slipping over his shoulders, and his brain focuses enough to realize that it's a blanket.

Not to mention that Gabriel is settling down right next to him, as if he's wanted or something. Which, Dean wants to add, he's not.

"You're a dick, you know that?"

"Hey!" Gabriel looks over at him, insulted, "Play fair, Dean. I didn't tell you to go jump in that lake."

He doesn't answer him, Gabriel should know anyway that he does whatever it takes on a hunt. And if an archangel happens to drop in and fuck up that hunt, the hunter pays the consequences. Dean's no different.

"You could at least apologize," Dean offers or rather, growls.

Gabriel shrugs, "For what?"

That's the most annoying thing about him; the fact that he doesn't care, acts like a child no matter what goes down, taunts and teases at every twist and every turn.

Dean gets up off the bench, wishes he could relax on it for a few more minutes but he's nowhere near ready to accept the trickster's hospitality, which means he shrugs the cozy blanket off his shoulders as well and watches painfully as it slides to the damp ground.

The only thing that could make this situation any worse is if it started raining, and knowing Gabriel that's about to happen in two seconds.

"Wait!" Gabriel calls, stalling Dean in his tracks, Dean afraid to look back, almost afraid that he won't be able to start moving again. "You won't be able to make it back. Not without me," he adds.

"Then I'll deal," he starts walking again. Leaving the archangel behind feels great, feels better than great.

"You really have a death wish, don't you?" Gabriel begins walking beside him, close enough to touch and it's uncomfortable, unnerving is more like it.

"Just leave me alone," his teeth chatter harder. "Don't you have better places to be?"

"Not really. Besides, Sam'll kill me if he finds you dead on the doorstep."

"I'm about ready to kill you right now," Dean snaps back, though it sounds more like a plea than anything. He hates for the archangel to see him like this, vulnerable and apparently needing help after this disaster, needing his help specifically. Bullshit though, Dean couldn't live with himself afterward if he gave into the archangel, no matter how warm he may look or how soft his arms would feel against his skin. He shakes the thought and travels back to the realm of agitation.

What Gabriel drops around his shoulders next is a nice thick coat. The fur lining is very warm and very soft, a nice, savory comparison to Gabriel himself but dammit, what crawled up into his head and started giving him these thoughts? Gabriel's arms engulfing him? Warm, sweet breath in his ear, startling him back up into reality? Both the coat and these thoughts have the Winchester doubting if his arms will really allow him to remove this salvation, or ridicule (kill) its owner.

He still makes a move to remove it though and Gabriel stills him quickly with a firm grip on his wrist. It has Dean grimacing and looking up into his golden eyes at the same time. "Don't Deano. You're not acting like an idiot and freezing to death tonight."

"You gonna stop me?" He growls (whimpers) because the cold is becoming painful.

"As a matter of fact, I am. Not to mention," Gabriel wraps an arm around his back, "I'm taking you home."

Before the hunter can even consider protesting, he's being whooshed away into dizzying nothingness. It's eternity before he's in familiar surroundings, the archangel dropping him onto a bed and it's startling enough to cause Sam to freak out and literally jump several feet in the air before sliding off his bed.

"What happened?" He demands Gabriel, rushing over to the other bed within moments to look his brother over. Dean's barely with it, surely too weak to protest and definitely set on drifting off into painful dreamland.

Sam slaps his cheek though, "Not yet, Dean. Don't you dare fall asleep on me yet."

He blinks, sees a hazy version of Gabriel before his eyes start to slip shut again. Normally, he would feel Sam's panic, though now, he's just too damn exhausted and relieved to. Maybe Gabriel bringing him here wasn't such a bad idea after all, infuriating as hell but he'll just be pissed off again in the morning...

"He's fine, Sam. Just get him warmed up and let him sleep."

The youngest wants to turn his focus to Gabriel, primarily his rage. There's no time for that though, it feels like his brother's dangerously close to hypothermia, he's already starting to shiver less and less by the second.

"Then help me!" He brushes back Dean's dripping wet hair, starts to undress him as best he can, while his brother mumbles protests, and then gets him under the covers, piling as many blankets as he can find on top of him. His entire attention is on Dean as he keeps talking, "I need more blankets and warm water and heating pads!"

There's no response.

"Gabriel?"

He looks up, but the archangel's gone.