A/N: Hope you enjoyed chapter 1! Sabriel soon, honest.
When they landed back in their room at Sun N' Sands motel, Dean stumbling a little (he would never get used to Angel transport), they were immediately bombarded by the Spanish Inquisition, aka Sam, who leapt upon Dean before he could open his mouth to speak.
"What the hell happened to you guys?!" Sam cried, hair swinging wildly as he shoved his brother unceremoniously, clearly near-hysterical. Dean put his hands up in an attempt to calm him. "You were right next to me in the car a-and then- poof!" Sam made a fluttering gesture with his hands, which was clearly supposed to represent the disappearance of Dean and Cas.
"Sam, just calm down will you?" Dean said sternly, pushing past Cas and sparing him a lingering look of wordless thanks-for-the-lift before slumping on the bed he'd designated for himself the previous night. Sam took a deep breath in, and Dean could practically hear him counting to ten in his mind. Dean sighed. "We don't know what happened."
Sam's eyebrows shot up incredulously, and he flickered his gaze over to Castiel, who stared levelly back, brow creased in concern. "W-what?"
"It was very odd, there is not a lot that would have the power to transport an Angel to another place against their will." Castiel said, his voice filled with barely disguised concern.
"O-kay…" Sam said, forcing some of the frustration to melt out of his body upon hearing that it wasn't Dean and Cas's fault he'd been sitting here for the past twenty minutes worrying if his brother and his friend were abducted, or dead, or worse. And yes, there was a worse – they were Winchesters after all. "So where did you go?"
Dean shifted uncomfortably, and his hand went up to rub the back of his neck – his trademark move for when he was embarrassed. Sam raised his eyebrows at the tell. "Dean?" He prompted.
"Uh…" Dean shot a wary glance at Castiel before looking away again. "I think it was… uh… a gay club."
Sam's mouth parted in surprise. He looked over to Cas for confirmation. The Angel nodded, seemingly untroubled by the fact. Sam's eyes flicked back to his brother, who was staring resolutely at the wall, his cheekbones a little rouged. Sam couldn't help the splutter that burst from his lips.
"Shut up Sam!" Dean warned, glaring at him until he stopped giggling.
"Sorry, I um…" Sam said, trying hard not to picture his brother and Cas, oh God Cas amongst all the winking, glittery twinks rubbing up against them… Sam burst out laughing again. Dean narrowed his eyes. "Sorry, sorry. I just… what the hell?" Sam finished, wiping a tear from his eye.
"You tell me, man. You tell me." Dean said, the exhaustion of one hell of a trying day overcoming him at last, and flopping back on the bed.
The Winchesters rose in the morning with no further insight into the strange events of yesterday. Well, the strange events that didn't involve breaking out of TV land and trapping an Archangel in a holy fire – that part at least they could handle. From the looks of things, Sam guessed that Dean was not keen to discuss the little excursion he and Cas had gone on yesterday, so Sam waited until his brother was in the shower before turning to Cas, who was absent-mindedly flicking through the Motel welcome pack over by the table.
"So, what happened yesterday?" Sam asked him quietly, wary of thin motel walls and his brother's sharp hearing. "You just blinked and found yourself in Rainbow Land?"
Castiel glanced up at the younger Winchester, his brow furrowed again at the unusual terminology. "Yes. It took me several moments to locate Dean. It was very crowded, and the patrons of the club seemed very… tactile. Of course, I am always able to locate Dean if he is close by."
Sam blinked in confusion, and tried not to think about the 'tactile' young men clutching at the trenchcoat of an Angel as he pushed through the masses. "Why's that?"
Castiel resumed his idle flicking through pages. "I have seen his soul, held it in my hands. I know its every appearance and could recognise it anywhere as long as it is within viewing distance."
Sam shifted a little on the end of the bed, feeling a little weirded out by that, but he shook it off. "Right. So, any ideas what could have done it?"
Castiel didn't look up, but his lips pressed together. "As I said previously, it would take something extremely powerful to overcome my will in that way. Something more powerful than me." Now Cas stared levelly at Sam, his eyes trying to communicate something he clearly didn't want to say aloud. Sam stared back for several moments, feeling stupid, then it clicked and he smacked a hand to his forehead.
"You're kidding?!" Sam cried, standing up. "Gabriel? After all that? For Christ's sake doesn't that guy ever give up?!" Sam felt his blood begin to boil; there were fewer things in this world he despised more than that jumped up Archangel right now. Forcing him to beg for his brother's life back at the Mystery Spot after he'd watched Dean die hundreds of times and never been able to stop it was enough, but after the Genital Herpes incident, not to mention the friggin' nutcracker…
Sam winced as the memory of that moment hit him in full force. His hand fluttered in front of his crotch reflexively but he quickly plastered his arms back to his side at the sight of Castiel, looking uncomfortably at him from across the room.
"Sam, there's no need to take the Son of God's name in vain. We don't know what he wants yet, but at least we know what we're dealing with. Gabriel we can handle at least." Castiel said evenly, and Sam stared at him like he'd lost his mind.
Dean chose that moment to exit the bathroom in a cloud of steam, a towel wrapped around his waist. Castiel had no shame in staring as per usual, looking at Dean's bare chest like it held the secrets of the universe. Sam saw a slight flush creep up his brother's neck when he noticed the attention, and quickly pulled on some pants.
"So." Dean said conversationally, rummaging through his backpack for a clean shirt. "Gabriel, huh?"
After a long day of searching the places they'd already frequented a few days ago when this whole mess began in an attempt to find Gabriel's hiding place, the three men had to conclude that it was a futile effort. Castiel himself told them as they took a break at a nearby diner (mostly out of boredom) that Gabriel could technically be anywhere, he just chose to set up camp in the towns he was terrorising usually so that he could watch the events unfold.
It was a half-hearted search-mission at best anyway, both Sam and Dean were exhausted from being forced to participate in back-to-back reruns of the lamest TV shows in existence, and it wasn't like Gabriel was hurting anyone. Just sending them for a bit of fun, Sam thought to himself, smirking.
They arrived back at the motel feeling disheartened and irritable from their lack of information, not to mention the clipped, annoyed tone of voice the Sheriff was starting to use on them whenever they dropped into the station with questions. Dean couldn't wait to get this godforsaken town in the rearview mirror of his baby as they sped down the highway. He sighed, and flopped onto his narrow bed once again, noting the now-familiar jab of a broken spring just under his left shoulder blade.
"I… I suppose I'll leave you to it for now." Castiel said awkwardly, politely averting his gaze as Sam and Dean sprawled out on their single beds. Sam sat up at Cas's declaration, nodding and giving him a little smile of understanding before glancing over at his brother, who hadn't moved an inch, and concluding that he was the only Winchester that had inherited any manners. "We'll reconvene in the morning. Call me if anything… strange happens."
Castiel vanished at that, and Sam let out a sigh of relief. It was always a bit awkward when Sam and Dean had to go to sleep; Sam had no idea what Castiel did overnight, whether he went back to Heaven or lingered around at the edge of the highway like he'd done a couple of times previously. Sam felt kind of bad, but it was better than the period of time before they'd talked to Cas about how weird it was that he watched over them while they slept. That was just creepy.
Besides, if Twilight taught Sam anything, it was that one of the down sides of being immortal is all the waiting around. Not that Sam had read Twilight or anything.
Sam shucked off his jacket and trousers and crawled into bed, sighing heavily, relishing the idea of sleep overcoming him. He turned out the crappy motel bedside lamp and lay back in the darkness, trying to shake off a strange feeling of someone watching him.
Side effects of the thrilling lifestyle of a hunter no doubt, Sam thought absently, screwing his eyes shut tighter.
In his peripheral vision he saw Dean sit up, scratching his head and looking around for something, though he had no idea what that would be, and Sam was asleep before Dean crawled under the covers.