Title: Cause I Know Where I Wanna Be
Author: OpheliacAngel
Recipient: lozzinski
Characters/Pairing: Dean/Gabriel, Sam
Rating: Teen
Summary: Dean should have figured out long before this point that Gabriel has more than just a crush on him.
Warnings/Spoilers: Season 8
A/N: Written for Debriel Christmas Exchange for Lozzinski, who prompted Gabriel looking after a hurt Dean and not being able to heal him. This is literally my favorite thing in the world to write. A very Merry Christmas to you and I hope you enjoy. Set during Season 8. Title and lyrics are from Digital Sons' song 'I Feel Like.'
~Cause I feel like running free
Cause when you know what you gotta say
Say it for me~
The last time Dean was conscious he was bleeding out all over the hardwood floor of the abandoned and apparently haunted house he and Sam had been checking out. Sam was trying to staunch the flow of blood with his hands before switching to an old and ratty towel, cursing under his breath and shouting for Castiel to 'get his ass down here!'. But they hadn't heard from the angel in weeks, and Dean knew with a sinking feeling that he wouldn't come as he felt the life draining from him too quickly for him to do anything about it.
So Dean prayed to Gabriel instead, not understanding exactly why when he was getting sick and tired of seeing the guy all the damn time. Last hope maybe. Dean called him despite cursing himself that if he did he would never live it down.
It didn't matter though. He came.
There wasn't much consciousness left to grasp onto when Gabriel appeared without a sound, bending down to remove Sam's bloodied hands and the towel and replacing them with his own, warm light spilling from them. It seemed like years went by as Dean could do nothing more but look up at the archangel, watching him intently.
There was a lot to notice about Gabriel when Dean had the option to either close his eyes and succumb to death just like that, or stare up at the archangel like he was his freaking prince charming or something. It really wasn't fair, but Gabriel the annoying asshole was trying to save his life here and he really would have thanked him for that if he could've. So yeah, there were kinda a lot of things that Dean couldn't ignore, like the way Gabriel's honey brown hair fell in front of his face and the urge he had to brush it away, and the fact that Dean could just about make out the outline of his wings, mother of pearl and amber glimmering on the narrowing edges of his sight.
And somehow, it wasn't the amount of time that left Dean resigned to his own death, it was the look on Gabriel's face. First there were frown lines in his forehead but then there was unadulterated panic in his eyes and a tighter press of his hands against the knife wound in Dean's stomach, which spelled out nothing else but desperation. He made eye-contact with Dean briefly, too fleetingly for Dean to make much of anything of it, but in that quick flash of a second he finally understood why Gabriel would do everything in his power to annoy him, why he would show up when Dean wanted to be left alone, lounge out on Dean's bed when he was ready to go to sleep.
Holy shit, Gabriel actually liked him.
Gabriel cracked one of those ridiculous grins, as if failing was intentional and now he was gonna work the real magic. "You're gonna be just fine, kiddo." Of course, it didn't take a genius to know that whatever Gabriel was trying to do it wasn't working. Yeah, Dean was screwed.
And then he lost consciousness.
The next memory is an ice bath. Of course, Dean doesn't find that out till later.
He jerks awake at the sensation of liquid fire assaulting him. The fire is everywhere, in his mouth and in his lungs, making it downright impossible to breathe. Whenever he coughs it up it's there again, like it's a part of him surer than anything else, like vines curling around his organs and constricting them, electricity kick-starting his heart over and over again as if he's not meant to come back. That darkness was so short lived and peaceful that Dean almost wishes he could go back there, but then he remembers how Sam needs him.
Protect Sammy. Always.
Thoughts and images dance across his mind, all of them pleading with him to pay them mind. He doesn't know where to turn, and when he plunges deep down inside of himself for release there is anything but, there is fire and ash and dust to let him know enough that he's dying. But there's something that won't let him die, something that just won't let him go.
Sammy.
Dean curses his brother for being so stubborn and for not letting him be in peace, but holds onto Sam's determination to keep him alive as a lifeline and as a rope to give him a way back. There is nothing to do but fight, but there must be something else he can do in order to escape for a while, just until Sam figures things out. He searches through the haze of agony for something to focus on, something happy and away from the surety that he's dying all over again.
He finds the inkling of a somewhat happy and definitely recent memory and he latches onto it before realizing exactly what it is. It was the quickest thing he could find and he's not gonna let it go now. Dean relaxes as best he can and falls head-first into the memory. Seconds prior before he gives himself completely up to it he gains the sickening feeling that he won't be able to back out of it.
Dean woke up slowly with the realization that someone was crawling into his bed, the one he was currently trying to sleep in. It was ass o'clock in the middle of the night, and Dean suspected he only fell asleep about an hour ago. Such was his luck at getting any sleep lately. With the trials weighing on his mind and the pressing need to stay awake in case something went wrong and Sam needed him, there really wasn't any him in that whole equation.
Thinking it was Sam, he relaxed pretty quickly and decided to just roll with it. He actually felt a heck of a lot better knowing that Sam was only about a few inches away from him now. "Bed not warm enough for you, Sammy?"
"Oh, it was plenty warm. Just not quite enough without you in it."
Dean threw himself into a sitting position and fumbled for the lamp on the bedside table, flicking the switch. Immediately, there was light enough in the room to reveal a grinning Gabriel who lay on his side, watching Dean with amused eyes. The step too far was probably Gabriel winking at him.
"Goddammit, Gabriel!"
Gabriel tsked at him, shaking his head in disappointment. "I really don't like it when you take my father's name in vain, Dean."
"Yeah?"
Dean glared at him, wishing he would just snap his fingers and disappear and leave Dean the hell alone. Just because he couldn't sleep didn't mean he needed company, especially from the archangel. Gabriel was inches away from him, so real, heat emanating from him and his arms so tantalizing that Dean imagined it would be both a mercy and a miracle if they were to find themselves wrapped around him, Gabriel only wearing a tank top after all. And fuck, did Dean catch himself staring. He cleared his throat and tried to focus on the bigger picture: getting Gabriel to leave, not giving him more reasons to stay.
"Well, I don't exactly like it when you crawl into my bed in the middle of the night." He looked away quickly, hoping Gabriel didn't notice his staring too much, but when he dared to glance back up Gabriel was watching him knowingly. So much for that. "What's wrong?"
"Why does there have to be anything wrong for me to come and see my favorite Winchester?"
"Favorite?" Dean scoffed, trying to feign indifference and failing miserably. For some reason he felt like sobbing pitifully, though figured that probably wouldn't go over too well. What the hell was Gabriel trying to push him into anyway? He'd been really close lately, whenever Dean would walk into a room he'd been there, and sometimes he'd show up behind Dean and tap on his shoulder and scare the ever-living shit out of him. It was all fun and games until someone's heart got broke in the process, although Dean quickly shook that weird thought out of his head. "Since when was I ever your favorite?"
"Oh," Gabriel looked Dean up and down with... affection? No, wait, that couldn't be right. Dean still did a double take. "I never told you that before? What a shame. You're certainly the prettiest."
And again with the fun and games.
"Shut up and go away, Gabriel."
"Now why would I want to enable you to lie sleepless in your bed again, thinking about moi, when I can actually be here instead?"
There really was no winning with the guy. "Whatever," Dean reached over to turn out the light and prepared to lay down again, with or without Gabriel there. "I'm going back to bed."
He was lying flat on his back then, the room submersed in darkness, the only sound in the room that of his own breathing. He wondered if Gabriel was still there, watching him, no doubt with some freaky night vision. His heart was racing and he focused on slowing it down. The thought of Gabriel watching him was giving him goosebumps.
And then the archangel was right on top of him, incredibly lithe body pressing him down into the mattress, hands on either side of his head which served to prevent Dean from getting away. Dean squirmed for a moment, though stopped as soon as he latched onto Gabriel's luminescent eyes, as thick and as hard as amber.
"You know, Winchester, for someone who leads themselves to believe that they hate me you certainly do get all flustered when I'm around. Don't think I haven't noticed. But, tell ya what," his hand stroked Dean's cheek and Dean flinched away, unprepared for the sudden gesture of comfort. "I'll take those pesky nightmares away tonight. And I'll watch over your kid brother on top of that."
Dean thought about it, he really did. He could finally get some sleep, and Gabriel could watch Sam and he was an archangel so added protection there. But he couldn't do it. He couldn't take what Gabriel was offering to him. He couldn't let himself want anything.
"No."
If he gave into Gabriel now then he would never stop.
Slowly, the memory dissolves around him and he filters into raised voices. He knows the voices belong to Sam and Gabriel, who else could they belong to? And while he's happy to be away from the embarrassing and confusing memory, he also doesn't think reality's that much more pleasant.
"Sam!"
"Hold him still, Gabriel!"
The fire is coiling inside him again, gripping him tightly, and this time around he's way too tired to fight it. And if he has to relive another memory with Gabriel then he is really gonna kill himself. It's not that he hates Gabriel, not really, Dean just doesn't trust himself not to do something stupid. It's downright impossible to figure out whether Gabriel's been playing with him for amusement or whether he has deeper intentions, and whether those intentions are good or bad or even both. He trusts the archangel to an extent, but Dean's been screwed over plenty of times before and he does not care for a repeat.
"Humans," Gabriel mumbles. Even though Dean's eyes are closed he can somehow sense that Gabriel is looking right at him, amber eyes glowing with concern and burning intent. "Isn't there anything else we can do?"
"Not really. Unless you have a better way of getting his fever down?"
Another douse of lighter fluid and he's out.
"You okay, kiddo?"
Dean opens his eyes and for a few long seconds blinks up at whomever is hovering over him, unable to put the pieces together, unable to figure out who the hell he's looking at. Sure, he recognizes the voice and the face, and since there's no alarms going off in his head he suspects that he trusts the person currently breaching his personal space. Dean licks his lips and squints, willing himself to remember.
But then there's that raw, inescapable pain and he doesn't want to remember anything anymore.
"Dean?" There's a hand on his cheek now, warm and reassuring and...
Oh yeah. Gabriel.
An assault of memories floods him and he shuts his eyes again, leaning into the hand on his cheek just for something comforting and familiar. There's Gabriel leaning against the door and sucking on a lollipop, watching him with amusement. There's Gabriel lounging out on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table, turning the TV volume up so loud until Dean can't even hear himself think. There's Gabriel holding his hands to Dean's belly, a terrible and undeniable look of loss already on his face as he locks eyes with a dying Dean.
Gabriel... why the hell won't he ever leave?
Dean turns his head away from the touch; no chick flick moments, especially in front of Gabriel. He can swear that the archangel's face falls for a second before he plasters that same old grin back on his face. Dean finds himself really liking those smiles; when Gabriel's happy Dean feels happy too, for the most part.
What the hell is going on?
"Don't be getting shy on me now, Dean-o. You practically died right in front of me, that's as intimate..."
"As it gets," Dean finishes and Gabriel nods, barely, a sad look morphing his grin into a frown. There are fingers brushing against his hip and Dean tenses at the intrusion at first but then relaxes into the touch. Gabriel's sharp yet soft amber eyes trail down to the insistent throbbing in his side, and Dean swallows.
He knows he's as weak as a kitten, that Gabriel could off him in a split second. Somehow though, that doesn't really matter.
"Mojo's gone, at least for the time being." Gabriel sighs and Dean watches with both fear and curiosity as the archangel hold his hand up and snaps his fingers. Nothing happens. Dean wants to know what he just tried to conjure up. "Since I couldn't heal you," Gabriel looks back down at Dean, fingers digging into his hip this time and Dean's mouth opens in a gasp. "Guess I'll just have to take care of you."
Dean licks his lips and shakes his head. "I'm fine. Really." Since when did he have to convince Gabriel?
"You're not fine, kiddo. You have a hole in your side and you're not even trying to shove me off of you. Must be my natural warmth," Gabriel chuckles, those damn eyes boring into Dean's soul as if he already owns it. He's right though, Dean isn't even trying, and it's not because he's weak and in pain. Dean gets to wondering why the hell Gabriel cares so much, other than to atone for his past sins.
"Maybe you should leave him alone for a while, Gabriel." Dean looks over and sees Sam in the doorway, arms crossed, watching the two of them with a smile in his eyes, as if he knows exactly what's going on. Dean would growl if he thought his throat would work properly and not produce a whimper instead.
Surprisingly, Gabriel relents. "Alright, then. I'll leave you two lovebirds to it." He saunters out the door, not once looking back at Dean, and for once Dean actually kinda feels bad for the guy.
Apparently, just cause Dean's laid up in bed Sam thinks that he can send Gabriel into his room with his lunch or with a pile of movies to choose from or even with hot chocolate. It's not because Sam's busy either.
Goddammit, Sam.
Gabriel's been less of a smart ass than usual since Dean got shot and almost died. He's quiet and intense when he watches Sam change Dean's dressings, and more than once Dean has found the archangel hovering over him when he wakes up, head practically pressed to Dean's chest. Gabriel makes sure he eats everything that's put in front of him and doesn't once forget Dean's schedule for the next round of painkillers. Dean pretty much does nothing but sleep for about half a week, but every time he wakes up Gabriel's there, and sometimes Dean just lies there and stares at him while he reads a magazine or watches some action flick that Dean sent Sam specifically to the rental store for.
It's comforting, having somebody to count on to be there. But he knows one day Gabriel will just up and leave, without a word, and Dean will be the idiot for thinking he would stick around.
Gabriel just came out of nowhere one day three weeks ago and never left. For years he wasn't there and then he was, haunting their asses until Dean literally crashed into him one day and both brothers realized that he was alive. 'In the flesh' and 'good as new' were what Gabriel claimed, and Gabriel did almost come back brand new in the way that something was different about him. Something off.
Like in the way he trailed after Dean all the damn time: in the mornings until Dean slammed the bathroom door in his face, or when he and Sam went out for takeout, or when they were on a hunt and Dean really needed to just focus. Gabriel was a distraction in more than one way, he would sneak up behind Dean so that Dean could feel his breath against his neck, and sometimes Gabriel's hand would curl around his hip. Dean would shoot him looks that said 'what the hell?,' but either Gabriel wouldn't respond or he would wink at Dean and then pull away.
Dean didn't want it to mean what he thought it meant. He couldn't fathom Gabriel kinda liking him, as a friend, let alone anything beyond that. Also, Dean didn't know how he felt about the guy, but he would be lying if he said that the thought of Gabriel's hands on various parts of his body was sickening.
He decides to confront his brother about Gabriel's sudden involvement in their lives one day when the archangel isn't around. Sam's been pretty easygoing considering how weird it is that Gabriel's just decided to get involved in their lives. More than that, he suspects Sam's up to something and almost is afraid to ask what.
"I don't...," he starts but breaks off, and Sam looks up at him in confusion but with interest. "I don't know how I feel about Gabriel being here. I mean, I get that he tried to save my life and all, and it wasn't his fault that he couldn't, but don't you think it's a little odd when the guy just pops up out of the blue one day and decides he wants to hang with us?"
Sam shrugs. "You could at least try to get to know him a little better."
"Get to know him better?" Dean splutters, outraged but for an entirely different reason than he'd like to be. "He's a freaking archangel, Sammy, one, might I remind you, that once tried to make us into meat-suits!"
"That's all past, Dean. He's a part of our lives now, like it or not, and is that really so bad?" Sam tells him, appearing to be exasperated.
Yes, Dean thinks, it really is bad.
He's screwed.
Adding to the fact that he's screwed, Gabriel insists on staying in Dean's room for most of the time in order to keep him company, or so he claims. Why the hell Gabriel would care about him getting lonely Dean doesn't know, but Gabriel's vigil over him is making him uncomfortable. Fine, maybe Gabriel feels a little guilty over not being able to heal Dean and all, but this is straight out stalker behavior.
Later on, Dean picks at his food, his lack of an appetite only making him more irritable. Gabriel's sprawled out in an armchair and Dean tries not to stare too much, not wanting to admit that Gabriel's way more fascinating at this point than eating. "Don't you have to go do trickster stuff or something?"
Gabriel looks up from his magazine. Dean catches sight of the title, 'Good Housekeeping,' and he stares at the archangel in disbelief, who merely shrugs. "I don't do that stuff anymore."
"Oh," Dean says, caught off guard. "Why not?"
"I don't know. It doesn't much matter anyway. I'm cut off from heaven and for who knows how long. I can feel my mojo, but I can't access it." Gabriel pulls a bag of saltwater taffy out from underneath the chair and rips it open, unwrapping a piece, popping it into his mouth and moaning. Dean rolls his eyes and looks down at his grilled cheese sandwich in disappointment. Before Gabriel's done chewing he continues. "Dad must be pissed off at me for some reason."
"Well," Dean bites, his snarkiness coming back to defend him. "I can't imagine why."
Gabriel glares at him for a second but then goes back to his magazine, unwrapping another piece of taffy. "You should be nice to me, Dean, considering I'm the bearer of the candy. Not to mention painkillers."
Dean's eyes narrow. He can handle the pain, no problem, but that's probably just the painkillers from the last hour talking. "You wouldn't."
"Try me." To prove to Gabriel that he really wouldn't would mean bringing up Gabriel's all too apparent crush on him, which Dean is loads uncomfortable doing. Forcing Gabriel to admit to it will only lead to Gabriel trying a bunch of different tactics until Dean admits to it. This is not what he needs in his life right now.
Gabriel puts down his magazine and motions to the pretty much untouched plate of food. "If you don't finish that then you're not getting any pie." Dean's mouth nearly drops open at that threat. Since when did Sam leave Gabriel in charge of everything? He thinks about calling for his brother and getting him to ban Gabriel from his room, but that would be admitting there's a problem, and Dean doesn't want Sam to know that he has a serious problem with being around Gabriel anymore than he already no doubt does.
So... nope, no problem here.
"You're worse than Sam," Dean pouts.
Even though all his so-called powers are gone, within the blink of an eye Gabriel's somehow moved from the chair to the edge of Dean's bed. He rests his head on his arms, staring up at an agitated Dean with what? Love? Affection? Longing? Lust?
That's it, Dean's had it with these chick flick moments.
He shoves the tray of food and the sheets off of him and works his way as quickly as possible out of bed, though still moves like an eighty-year old man. "Dean...," Gabriel starts, but Dean holds up a hand to stop him. Being in the room with Gabriel is getting to be too suffocating and he has to get out. Simple as that. Although, he doesn't expect to fall down on his ass several feet away from the door, pain bringing him to an abrupt standstill.
Gabriel's beside him then, one hand on his back and the other grabbing Dean's hand from where he's digging it into his other hand, drawing blood. He uncurls Dean's fingers and entwines them with his own, squeezing them gently. There's not much in Dean's stomach but he feels like throwing up, and for a few seconds he can't remember what he was trying to achieve in the first place. He doesn't have the heart or the strength to tear his hand out of Gabriel's, so he sits there, riding through the pain, and squeezes back.
Dean flat out fucking whimpers when Gabriel starts to lift him up.
"Hey, it's okay," Gabriel says, voice uncharacteristically soft and supportive. "We'll go slow this time around, okay?"
"Put me down. Please," Dean begs and Gabriel listens, though lowers him back down to the carpet instead of dropping him. Dean lies there, eyes squeezed shut, utterly helpless. It feels like it's ages before he gets up the guts to let Gabriel help him back up, who hasn't left and hasn't stopped leaning over Dean protectively ever since it happened.
"You feeling better?" Gabriel runs a hand up and down Dean's sweat-soaked back, supporting Dean's head from where it's leaning against the archangel's shoulder. It's way too late to be embarrassed now. "Want to cool down some? I can run a bath."
Dean shakes his head tiredly, focusing on Gabriel's hand moving up and down his back, fingers straying into his hair. "Sam."
Gabriel nods in understanding. "I get it, Dean-o. We haven't reached that part of our relationship yet."
Dean's eyes widen.
Dean is shaking when he wakes up, and he stumbles out of bed as best he can and fumbles around the room, searching for a light switch. Gabriel gets to it before he does, turning the light on and causing Dean to shield his eyes. The pain's bad, on a scale of one to ten probably a nine, and Gabriel is already up in his face before the room stops spinning, fumbling with a bottle of pills in his hand.
"Here," he presses a pill against Dean's lips and Dean opens his mouth, desperate. There's a glass of water pressed to his lips next, and Dean can feel the cool water before he guzzles it down, hands grasping onto the cup for better purchase and Gabriel's hands settling on top of his own, supporting him. "It's gonna take a few minutes, kiddo."
As soon as the water's gone Dean gasps for breath, unable to get in enough oxygen, searching wildly about the room for more water. He forgets that Gabriel can't snap his fingers anymore and make a full glass appear, yet he doesn't ask for it anyway. Gabriel, however, reads his mind and rushes into the bathroom to fill up the cup again. Dean loses track of time, amazed that he's still upright, and then the rim of the cup is pressed to his mouth again and the whole world falls away as he drinks. When he's done, Gabriel gives him a few minutes to catch his breath. Dean wants to tell him how grateful he is, but his cheeks are hot both from fever and embarrassment.
"You want to go back to bed, or do you want me to start a bath...?"
Not again. Why the hell is Gabriel being so nice?
"Stop playing with me," Dean growls, shoving the archangel away. As soon as he does, Gabriel's hands are on him again, surrounding him, and they move to support him as he lowers himself down to the carpet. "Fuck off," Dean warns him, but it's a mumble and isn't threatening in the slightest. He shivers in the cold air of the room, or maybe it's just because of his lingering fever, and Gabriel pulls Dean's head to rest securely in the crook of his neck and runs his fingers through Dean's hair, helping him to calm down. It takes a long time before Dean feels semi-coherent again; however, Gabriel makes no move to leave.
"Dammit," Dean curses, tears streaming down his cheeks as tremors wrack through him, leeching his strength.
"It's okay," Gabriel whispers, pressing a kiss to Dean's neck.
"Stop." It sounds pathetic, even to his own ears. But he has to try. One last time. He can't handle Gabriel's games, can't handle Gabriel pushing it this far only for it to pan out to be some kind of sick joke.
"Stop what, Dean? Stop taking care of you? Never. I can't ignore you, Dean, and I can't not care about you. You're the reason I came back. You're the reason I'm still here."
"Why?" He sobs, swallowing down the massive lump in his throat.
"You're stubborn and idiotic and don't know what's good for you half... no, any of the time. You also can't pull your head out of your ass enough to see what's been in front of your face all this time. Not to mention you drool, your nightmares keep me up and your limited sweet tooth leaves much to be desired. Primarily the absence of cake. But there are things I can't leave out Dean-o. You're drop dead gorgeous and so smart and strong and if I wanted anyone to fight by my side it would be you. You also get me, kiddo, and I mean genuinely get me. That doesn't happen a lot. In fact, it's never happened before. So cut it out with the quick looks and the blushes and your tongue being tied as if I can't notice all those things and get on with it."
"Get on with what?"
Gabriel sighs angrily and forces Dean into a sitting position. Dean's strength is coming back, little by little, but not fast enough for this. "You like me in tank tops. And don't lie."
"I...," Dean shuts his mouth immediately, figuring what the hell and grabbing Gabriel's mouth to deliver him a bruising kiss. Gabriel rolls with it, hands still gripping the arms of Dean's Henley and dragging him over to the bed, transporting him down onto it gently.
"Sam..." Dean doesn't know why he says his name. Why he would bring him up in a moment like this.
Gabriel's eyes are glowing with happiness and Dean pulls that strength into himself. "He's been playing matchmaker ever since he realized. It didn't take long either, and he confronted me about it. He really loves you, Dean, and he wants you to be happy. Can you just be happy for once? Or is it just that I can't make you happy?"
"No, you can," Dean says, mostly out of breath, panting hard. "You make me happy." Jesus, he's admitted it.
Gabriel completely stops and looks down at Dean, such love in his eyes it damn near steals Dean's breath again. Which he kinda needs at this point, by the way. "Aw, you're making me tear up here, sweetie. You make me happy too." Gabriel kisses him and then resumes what he was doing before Dean brought his brother into the picture. "I've waited too long for this, kiddo. You game?"
"Hell yeah," Dean smirks, though recoils when Gabriel's hand presses into his still healing wound.
Dammit. He swallows down the lump in his throat. "Hey." Gabriel forces Dean to look away from the blood that's now seeping through the once pristine white bandage. The archangel places a hand over the bandage, but Dean sees no light coming from it. He looks up into Gabriel's eyes and sees that that wasn't his intention anyway. "I love you. I love who I am with you, no matter what I can or can't do anymore."
"I know," Dean places a hand over Gabriel's own, ignoring the twinge in his side. "Love you too."
Gabriel pulls Dean forward into a hug, hand still covering Dean's bandage, the other sprawled on Dean's back, clutching him possessively. The hug is all that happens between them that night, and it isn't disappointing but rather the start of something pretty freaking amazing.
FIN