When an angry Gabriel appeared in the backseat of the Impala, Dean almost had a heart attack even if he had been expecting it. "Dude, driving!"

Gabriel didn't even spare him a glance, just held out his hand angrily. "Give it back."

Sam reached into his jacket, withdrew a familiar angelic blade, and passed it back to the archangel. It rang slightly as it slapped against Gabriel's outstretched palm, and if the archangel actually flinched from holding his own weapon . . . no one was going to mention it.

There was a long tense silence in which Gabriel stared at the blade, and the Winchesters pretended not to be watching him. With a barely perceptible shudder, Gabriel tucked the blade away and refocused on the Winchesters. "Who taught you how to pick an archangel's pockets?"

"Castiel," Dean returned. "How long did it take you to notice?"

"I about had a heart attack when I reached for it and found the fake instead," Gabriel's eyes flashed. "Oh, and then, because I was somewhat distracted by my missing knife, Lucifer managed to get the completely useless weapon away from me—thank you very much—and then it was in my heart."

"All according to plan," Sam reassured him, twisting for a better look at the archangel in their backseat. "Are you healed yet?"

Gabriel shook off the large hand. "Plan? What plan? I'm pretty sure the plan was for me to kill my brother or get killed which is why there was a contingency plan . . ."

Sam grimaced. "Yeah, well, Dean actually found the time to watch that movie. Hence our plan. Dean replaced your knife when you passed him the movie—" Sam was cut off by the archangel catching his wrist in a grip that came close to crushing it.

"You left me with no weapon to face off against a brother that was prepared to kill me."

"Which is the safest way to face Lucifer," Sam confessed quietly. "We kind of got in the way of Lucifer repossessing his own sword. Its final destination is questionable—but he doesn't have it. He could only kill you with your own blade. So you couldn't have it when you faced him."

Gabriel swallowed hard. "I hate you both."

"Understandable."

"You do that again, and I'll leave you a car for eternity."

"Understood."

Gabriel leaned back against the seat wearily and closed his eyes. "What were you thinking?"

"That Team Freewill could use an archangel," Dean pointed out. "And that you're one of two angels who have proven themselves not to be total dicks. That makes you an endangered species." The oldest Winchester glared at his side mirror as if it had personally offended him. "Really endangered."

Sam rolled his eyes. "In case you haven't picked up on it yet in light of the nearly-dying that went on earlier this evening . . . Team Freewill is Dean's macho code for family."

"Dude, it so is not," Dean objected, but no one paid him any attention. "And hey, no chick flick moments with an archangel."

Sam slugged him on principle.

Gabriel peered at them both out of one golden eye. Then he groaned. "Alright, I'll stick around and help you find Castiel."