The soulless grey skies hanging mournfully over Kansas were as foreboding as they were uncharacteristic. It was only morning yet; the beginning of a beginning; arguably one of the most significant days of Dean's life; and so with the unrestricted optimism of one experiencing pure happiness he hoped that the weather would clear in accordance to the wondrous occasion. He grinned at the thought, and with a fresh wave of excitement he put the thought from his head and almost leaped into his beloved Impala. The engine purred, and the car darted forwards; seemingly sharing the infection enthusiasm of it's owner.

A mere mile away, Sam lay forlornly across his motel bed, weeping poisoned tears. He hated himself. It was the day of his brother's wedding; shouldn't be happy? Shouldn't he be the first one to hug and congratulate Dean on this special day? Shouldn't he be the one to present the ring at the alter? He'd had the chance. In his spite he'd thrown them away; cast Dean aside like no loving brother should. But isn't that what Dean did to him? Sam's heart was broken battleground of betrayal and love lost - his soul; a barren wasteland devoid of life and warmth; the last ember having been cruelly but unwittingly extinguished by Dean's happy betrothal. His personality as scarred and ravaged as his body from the life he chose. He'd saved thousands; millions of lives but how could he now save himself?

With an unusually lacklustre push, he forced himself of the bed and to the door. He had to at least show his face, he resolved grimly. While he'd lost his brother's love, he would not bear to lose his respect. As he pushed through the door he looked up at the bleak sky; 'You too, huh?'

Dean pulled up outside the church and with a spring in his step and AC/DC ringing in his ears he strutted towards the entrance. He met the eternally gruff looking Bobby by the door and together they headed inside.
'Rough about Sam huh?' Bobby warily questioned Dean. Casting a slight damper on his mood, Dean played through his head yet again the scene of Sam bursting into tears and refusing the position of best man. It bewildered him; but what could he do? He'd offered the position to Garth instead, and like his role as a hunter he'd surprised all and taken it into his stride, prancing about with the pride of a man who just halted the apocalypse. Dean chuckled quietly at his own private joke and wished he'd felt even a measure of pride for his accomplishments. Nothing about his life brought him happiness; never the girls, never the booze; often not even Sam as his brother sunk further into depression. Only one person brought him happiness; or one supernatural entity rather; an angel of the lord for that matter. His pensive mood dispensed by the thought of Cas quite literally appearing at that altar, he almost ran towards the altar. The ceremony was about to begin.

As Dean reached his position, Cas appeared less than a metre away from him, his eyes burrowing deep into Dean's very soul and stirring a mixture of emotions ranging from tender love and raging passion. Cas didn't understand the nature of human culture, and his often clueless mannerisms amused Dean to no end. He reminisced fondly of memories shared together; of vibrating beds and the time Cas read a strippers mind and confronted her with own thoughts, promptly resulting in a hasty evacuation of one confused angel. He's not a people person, Dean mused to himself. As the ceremony itself got underway, Dean couldn't help noticing Sam's absence from the hall. Slightly saddened by the revelation, he was called to speak his vows. He caught sight of Garth's goofy smile and the quite frankly disturbing figure of Crowley in a red velvet dress that he claimed gleefully to be his great aunt's - despite everyone's reluctance Crowley had insisted on not only attending the ceremony but also as fulfilling the role as the groom's mother, as he declared that if Bobby was the acting father, his kiss with Bobby made him the closest thing to a mother that Dean has. He made great effort in showing the selfie off to the reception. As Dean finished his own vows and Cas had repeated his own in a characteristically monotone voice, the words came that Dean had dreamed about since the winged seraph had burst into his life; 'You may now kiss the groom.'

Sam had been slumped against the Church doors since the ceremony had begun. He didn't have the courage to enter and see all the happy, smiling faces at the day he lost the yet another love. Whenever he'd given love a try they'd been snatched away; murdered; vanished; even forced to kill them himself; and now this. With a sudden flare of intense anger and jealousy he burst through the doors and howled in anguish. He couldn't bear it anymore; he wanted Dean to know off his pain.
'Dean! You can't!' he trailed off slightly as he felt the weight of startled eye's upon him. The worst however, was the mask of horror that had rapidly altered Dean's face. Sam remembered at the moment, he was in fact, unwashed and unshaven, and the last month's misery clung to him angry spirit. When he saw Cas's stony, unmoved expression however, the flames were reignited.
'I've lost too much. After Dad. After Ruby. After Jess. I can't. I can't lose you too.' The silence that followed was deafening. It came to Cas himself to break the atmosphere, with a typically unemphatic statement.
'Is the human emotion named Jealousy that you spoke off, Dean?' He turned inquisitively towards his partner.
'Sam...' Dean's voice carried across the hall, laced with sadness. Before any more could be said, a blinding light filled the room, and if one listened closely, the soft beat of wings could be heard. When the light dissipated, Sam had vanished and in his place was a large black top hat. Dean cautiously paced towards it and reached in to reveal a live white rabbit and a post card, signed; 'Grats on your special day champ! Love your buddy Gabe'

Sam, came to consciousness sat upright, in a diner; a diner he remembered all too well. It's from the day Dean died. Well; the day Dean died over a hundred times. Sure enough, sat across from him at the table, was not his brother this time, but the archangel Gabriel, formerly known as Loki; the trickster.
' Hey there, Sammy!' He proclaimed cheerfully, his eyes alight with energy. 'I thought I'd rescue you from that drab place and take you on a little date.'
Sam was stunned, mesmerized by his grin, and dumbfounded by his presence. Maybe he hadn't lost everyone after all.
'Gabe, we thought you were dead! Where… where have you been?' Sam said, trying to control the excitement in his voice. Gabriel looked into Sam's eyes and beamed. 'My greatest trick yet huh? Really had ol' Lucy fooled, he might even pull my hair if he found out I'd shown him up, yet again! BUT! That is not why I am here. I am here, my dear Sammy, to see you. I mean, I had fun these last few months messing with some so called celebrities, AH! no I won't tell you who! But it's so lonely, you know?' Sam's heart was pumping faster than when he'd jumped into the cage.
''So Sammy, why don't we change that ''Oh, I hate the world'' attitude and have some fun, huh? We'll pop into the wedding, see those two eat each other's faces and chuckle at Bobby grimace, out of respect of course, and we'll go somewhere away from it all, just us two. Sound like a trick?' Sam's expression unwittingly transformed into a grin; slowly, cautiously; he let his heart open up and some hope trickle in.
'Sounds like a trick, Gabe'