Italics indicate a memory.

000

Dean thinks, no; he knows he hates the Archangel Gabriel. He despises that smarmy bastard who can't seem to keep his holy hands off of Sammy. Or maybe it's Sam who can't keep his hands off Gabriel?

Dean hates how Gabriel thinks it's alright to put his feet up on the Impala's back seat. He hates how Gabriel can make Sam burn bright with a blush without even doing anything. He hates that Gabriel, annoying and childish and the Trickster Gabriel, is fucking his baby brother into oblivion damn near every night.

But there's one thing he hates about the Sam/Gabriel situation above all else; that stupid fucking angel is making Sammy smile more than Dean ever has, even back when they were kids.

000

"Got anything?"

"Not yet. Sorry."

Dean feels almost guilty for asking the question at the pinch of shame tainting his little brother's words. He knows Sam is trying to dredge up some information on this case, has been sat behind his laptop for the past five hours trying to do so, but nothing of actual consequential use is coming up.

Flicking his eyes out from behind his latest copy of 'Busty Asian Beauties' Dean takes a moment to silently assess his brother.

Charcoal smudges of black semicircles are drooping down under Sam's eyes, his frowning lips have been gnawed away to hell, his too-long hair is all dishevelled and his irises have a dull, dead glaze to them. In short, Sammy looks tired, drained, exhausted even. And more than a little bit like shit.

Dean would ask him to maybe take a little coffee break or something but he knows it would be futile, just as his past twelve attempts at getting Sam out from behind his computer have been. It's like something more than just the case is driving his brother to such lengths.

In fact, Dean would almost say that Sam's acting like he's trying to keep himself busy, trying to keep his mind off of something.

Someone.

Gabriel.

"You little girl." Dean mutters under his breath, disbelief clear in his tone.

"Hmm?" Sam responds, eyes never leaving the glow of his too-bright laptop screen. "What's 'at, Dean?"

"You're pining." He's not sure if he should be mocking Sammy or feeling mildly horrified. Maybe both. "For Gabriel." His eyes are wide, like a kid who's just realised that chicken nuggets are made of real-life chicken, and Sam would find it funny if he wasn't feeling more than a little bit embarrassed. "You, Samuel Winchester, are pining for the Archangel Gabriel."

"Who's pining for me?" A smug voice purrs.

Dean whips his head around and, sure as hell is hot, there's Gabriel, a smirk painted artfully onto his face and a half eaten lollipop in his left hand. Just the sight of him makes the older Winchester feel physically ill. After all, he knows exactly what will be happening tonight seeing as it has been nearly a fortnight since Sam has seen the guy.

Dean isn't sure what's worse; watching his brother pine or listening to him being fucked. Hard.

"Gabe!"

And just like that Sammy's face lights up like a shooting star. Sure, to the untrained eye it might simply look like the expression of someone who's just tasted a particularly nice cup of coffee, but Dean knows better. It takes a lot to make his brother smile these days, yet here it is.

The sincere little smile isn't on the younger Winchester's lips for long before they are covered with the sticky-sweet mouth of an eager archangel.

Dean allows them around a minute of peaceful reunion before he starts making gagging noises.

"Get a room."

"Good to see you too, Deano."

He looks at Sammy's awed face, the way that Gabriel is perched playfully on his lap, how their hands are intertwined like two interlocking padlocks. Sam looks like he is in Heaven, no pun intended.

"Yeah," Dean says, perhaps a little too thoughtfully, "you too."

000

That particular memory of earlier today stings Dean maybe more than it should, for a multitude of different but undeniable reasons.

Firstly because Gabriel got through to Sammy where Dean couldn't, even though it was Gabriel himself that put Sam into his mood and so Dean knows he probably couldn't have helped anyway (this doesn't make it feel any better). Secondly because as soon as the archangel entered the cramped motel room it was like Dean ceased to exist to his baby brother at all. Thirdly because Dean caught a glimpse of what life, real life, could have been like; all smiles and kisses and shits and giggles.

Dean caught a glimpse of something that he can never have.

He can see it now too, sitting in the bed closest to the door and gazing at his not-so-little little brother curled against his very own archangel. Of course he knows that Gabriel isn't actually asleep and that the relationship is far from normal but their love is so real that not even Dean can deny it.

Sammy looks so innocent and peaceful lost in the archangel's arms, his hair licking at the tip of Gabriel's chin like water on a beach. It reminds Dean of when his brother was really little and they would share a bed, just without the sex part. Thank God.

Dean takes a moment to take a mental picture of the serene bliss resting on his brother's face; he knows he'll need the image later. He isn't stupid. He knows the apocalypse is coming and it will be bad. The thought of his baby brother looking like this could very well be the one thing that will keep him sane when it all falls to hell. Literally.

"Dean." The addressed lets his eyes flit to Gabriel, something in him fearing the lack of smug mocking in the Trickster's voice. "I will die soon."

"What?"

"I will face Lucifer and I will die."

Gabriel's hands ghost over Sam's back, looking at his lover with the eyes of one condemned. Dean notices Sammy starting to stir in his sleep but he immediately settles at hearing Gabriel's soft placations; Dean's sure it has nothing to do with angel mojo.

Dean can't let Sammy lose this, no matter how much Gabriel might annoy him. Sam's happiness is more important.

"So don't face him." The older Winchester huffs back, looking anywhere other than at the blessed contentment on Sam's face. "Last time I checked you weren't too hot on the idea anyways."

"No, I'm not." He presses a kiss to Sam's forehead and Dean knows Gabriel can't leave Sammy ever; it'll be like Jess all over again, maybe worse. "But I will."

"Why?" Dean lets himself sound mildly pissed. It's better than sounding concerned. "If you know you're gonna die then why do it?"

The way Gabriel is looking at Sam is answer enough and, to be honest, it doesn't surprise Dean nearly as much as he thinks it should. He knows he wouldn't let his brother's archangel die for anything less.

"Why did you go to hell, Dean?"

The words are heartfelt, begging the older brother to understand; he went to hell for Sammy, because he loves his baby brother and would rather die than live without him. And it makes him smile in a bittersweet sort of way that it's Gabriel, the goddamn Trickster, of all people who understands it.

"You'll look after him when I'm gone?"

"Of course." Dean promises, every ounce of his being exuding unbridled sincerity.

Gabriel smiles his response and returns his full attention to the younger hunter; his hunter. And Dean's never seen so much unadulterated love and caring in all of his life.

But Gabriel's going to be gone soon and Sammy will be destroyed, even if he won't show it.

Dean thinks, no; he knows he hates the Archangel Gabriel.

000

A/N: So here it is, my very first attempt at writing a Sabriel! It's also my first time hand-writing a fic as a first draft and then typing it up later, I'd like to think it helped this be a little less crappy. Anywhore, I hope you liked it, thanks for reading and pleasetell me what you think! :)