Just a forewarning: this chapter fucking sucks. It's a short chapter. Nothing much happens and you can really just skip it. It's only significant in that it's the last chapter without Sammy. Slow-build Sabriel is SLOW. I'm just trying to build up the backstory a bit, y'know? *sighs*

Anyway, eight days until we deploy. I'll try to write one more chapter for this but I'll have to see how my other three stories go. *crosses fingers* As it is, my week on leave (I drove up to San Francisco and I'm exhausted) looks pretty full-up but I'm with a whole bunch of creators (all of whom love Supernatural, which is cool) who understand my need and desire towrite.

Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke.

Gabriel stared at the empty Word document, feeling a bead of panic rising through him. Never before had a blinking cursor looked so intimidating. What the Hell had happened? A week ago, he was well on his way to cranking out his second novel, but now… Well, it appeared that when Kali left, she'd taken his Muse with him. He toyed with the idea of calling her, but she probably wouldn't answer if he did. He sighed and settled back in his seat.

His phone buzzed annoyingly on the table next to his laptop. It can't be! he thought, but he hoped it was, anyway. Maybe Kali had reconsidered! He picked up his phone and tried not to feel disappointed. "Hey, Cas," he said with mock cheerfulness. "What's going on?"

"I mentioned the upcoming art exhibit to Dean and, believe it or not, he's interested in attending. Do you think you could ask—Michael, was it? Michael Milligan?—for another ticket?"

Great. He was going to be a third wheel. That was exactly how he wanted to spend his Friday night. Still, going with Castiel and Dean would be better than going alone. "Yeah, sure. I can do that." Damn it. He'd thought he was safe from this possibility. It wasn't that he didn't like Dean, because he genuinely did—as long as he didn't have to spend more than twenty minutes with him. Gabriel knew he was good for Castiel, and that his best friend was good for Dean. It was just that, one-on-one, they grated on each other's nerves. But he didn't think Dean would even want to go to an art exhibit. It wasn't really his thing. He was pretty sure Dean didn't even own a suit. "He does know it's a formal event, right? I'm gonna be wearing a tux." Maybe I should invite Roché, too. He dismissed the idea almost immediately. It wasn't that he didn't like his agent, because he did. The blonde was just on his shit list right now. Besides, an art exhibit would probably bore him.

"He doesn't know, but I do. I'll take him to rent a tuxedo tomorrow." Castiel sighed and Gabriel imagined him pinching the bridge of his nose, the way he did when he had a headache or Dean was being frustrating. "Thank you, Gabriel. So how are you doing?"

He sighed. "Pretty shitty, actually. I still can't write." He reached into his pocket for a pack of Starbursts and popped one into his mouth. "And I haven't left the apartment in two days."

"You need to get out, then. Want me to come over?"

"Nah, Dean just got back. You spend time with him. I'll be fine."

"Okay," Castiel said. But he didn't sound convinced. "I'm just worried about you in that apartment all alone. If you need me to come over and hang out, I will. You have my number."

"Yeah." He understood Castiel's concern, but he wasn't suicidal. He was just sad. He knew he needed to just move on, just get over Kali. She wasn't coming back and he had to accept that. But it hurt, knowing that the woman to whom he'd been so close to giving his heart had been planning to leave him the whole time. It hurt like a stab to the stomach.

Besides, going out hadn't really distracted him from the problem at hand. It just affirmed that he was actually single. It almost amplified the fact that he was alone and he needed a distraction. So if getting out of the apartment and staring at the same walls every day led to the same conclusion, he was going to have to handle this the old-fashioned way: time and booze. He knew that one day he'd wake up and be okay again, but that day wasn't anywhere in the near future.

"Alright, Gabe. I'll talk to you later."

"Yeah. See you." Gabriel hung up and set his phone back on the slick glass table. He clicked over to the document containing his outline and stared at it for a few moments before slamming down the lid of his laptop. Yeah, there was no way he was getting any writing done today.

He mulled over calling Michael right away and asking him for the extra ticket but decided against it. He'd go for a walk and take a nap. Then he would call Michael back.

Two hours later, he woke up to his phone buzzing on his nightstand. More than a little irritated—he'd been having a dream about that hot cop he'd seen on his walk—he answered without looking at the caller ID. "What?" he asked with a little more venom in his voice than necessary.

"Jesus, calm down," Castiel said. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah," Gabriel answered, immediately apologetic. "I was just asleep."

"Oh. I'm sorry to wake you. Should I call back later?"

"Nah. What's up?"

"I was just wondering if you called Michael Milligan already."

"No, not yet. Why? Did Dean decide he didn't want to go?" He hoped his voice didn't betray his anticipation.

"Oh, no. He still wants to go. In fact, he mentioned it to his brother, and now Sam wants to go, too."

Gabriel groaned internally. Today just keeps getting better and better. He'd never met Sam Winchester—never even seen him—but if he was related to Dean Winchester, he was probably going to end the evening trying not feign interest in his precious car. The only three things Dean ever talked about were his car, his job, and Castiel (not in that order). For the most part, Gabriel would ignore it, but if they were going to be spending hours in close proximity, that would be nearly impossible. And Sam Winchester probably wouldn't be any better. "I'll ask Michael. No promises, though."

"I understand. And tell Michael that, if need be, I will pay for Dean and Sam's tickets. I would hate to impose."

Gabriel should have just told Castiel that he didn't want to see either of the Winchesters in the near future. He should have, but he wouldn't. Castiel was very much in love with Dean and Gabriel didn't want to be the one thing that ruined the best thing that ever happened to him. Besides, if Dean wanted to broaden his horizons, who was Gabriel to deny him that opportunity? Or the other Winchester, for that matter? "Yeah, no worries. I'll call him in an hour or so."

"Thank you, Gabriel. And I apologize again for waking you up."

Gabriel took a moment to smirk over Castiel's many personalities. He was always so formal on the phone, but in person, he was relaxed and energetic. At work, he was a bit more like his telephone personality, but he would still make a joke or two. And when he was with Dean, he was—there was no other word for it—giddy, at least for a few minutes, until Dean said something stupid or serious. "Yeah, it's fine," he said. "I'll call you back when Michael gives me an answer."

"Alright. Talk to you later."

Gabriel hung up and sighed. Now was as good a time as any to call Michael back, then.

Michael picked up on the second ring. "Hey, Gabe! What's going on?"

"Not much. So you know my friend Castiel, the guy who's coming with me to the gallery?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, he wants to bring his boyfriend Dean and Dean's brother Sam. So…"

"Great! I'll put them on the list. What's the last name?"

"Winchester."

"Awesome! It starts at nine, by the way."

"I'm sure we'll be late," Gabriel half-joked. "Open bar there?"

"Of course. Rachel wouldn't have it any other way."

He snorted with laughter. "Good. Alright, well, I'll let Cas know. He's going to be happy, I'm sure."

"See you on Friday, then."

"Yeah, bye."

Castiel was quite excited when Gabriel told him about what Michael had said. Gabriel started wondering if he should start drinking now. He wasn't a big drinker normally, but this had been a stressful week and it was promising to get worse. He was going to be stuck with his best friend, a guy he could only tolerate for twenty minutes at a time, and a total stranger. And then he was going to have to pretend he didn't see the sympathetic looks people would probably shoot him. The news about the breakup would have spread through their whole social circle by now—thanks to Rachel, no doubt—and he would have to pretend he was okay even though he was far from it. And even worse, he hadn't felt any desire to write since it happened. That, he figured, would be the sign that he was back to some semblance of normal—when he was able to write, he would be okay.

Just...fuck. This chapter. *sighs*