Gabriel was no longer talking to Dean.

At first, this was his only form of punishment, until the archangel quickly realised it was more of a blessing than a curse in Dean's opinion. So, he soon changed his tactics. He created a barbershop quartet that only Dean could see and hear to follow him around making songs about his daily duties in loud, off-key voices, copied his pixie self after scanning through the book and cut holes in every item of clothing Dean owned and enchanted the hunter's boot to give him a swift kick as soon as he woke up every morning.

So it was only natural that when Dean awoke and looked around for the usual boot attack only to spot a puddle of blood at the end of his bed, he automatically assumed it was just another of Gabriel's tricks.

He finally snapped, believing the archangel had at last gone too far, and demanded that Sam to talk to his boyfriend about it. Sam, who had also been giving him a subdued version of the cold-shoulder ever since they'd been sucked out of that godforsaken book, was somewhat reluctant and rather short with Dean when he brought it up. But Dean insisted, and eventually, Sam agreed, although he took no time in pointing out he didn't class Gabriel in the wrong. After all, as he rightly pointed out, it had been two days and Castiel still hadn't returned.

Dean honestly didn't know what made it worse; the fact that they'd found Cas and weren't admitting it to him, or that Cas was so angry not even Gabriel could convince him to come back, or that Sam wasn't lifting a finger to help. Because Dean wasn't stupid. He knew Gabriel had found Castiel the moment he'd reappeared; the guy was a colossal dickwad, but he seemed to feel something akin to brotherly affection for Castiel, so Dean knew he wouldn't have come back unless his search was over. But Castiel's continued stony silence could then only mean one thing; he was monumentally pissed at Dean.

The hunter tried not to care, he really did. He dealt with Gabriel's new antics with cold indifference. He ignored the chilling glares he received from the archangel whenever they were forced to inhabit the same room together. He kept to the motel room that had become exclusively his; Sam and Gabriel had moved into their own the same night they'd returned and he was happy for it. At least he could now to go to a bar, get well and truly trashed, bring back some hot chick and forget this whole fuckup for a couple of hours without being on the receiving end of a judgemental bitchface courtesy of Sam in the morning. But all he'd managed to do so far was quietly pray to Castiel every so often, draining a beer for every unanswered call.

Scowling, Dean collapsed onto his bed fully clothed, feeling exhausted. He'd barely slept since their ordeal – mainly due to Gabriel's tuneless singing dicks – but yeah, maybe it was a little to do with his dreams. What ones he'd managed to have were full of Castiel reading in that massive library, or diving through a sheet of ice to drag him from a lake. He'd maybe even admit he missed the guy a little bit. And geez, when had he turned into such a girl?

It wasn't like this was the first time he'd seriously ruffled Castiel's feathers, after all. It would be a long time before Dean forgot that dingy alley. And two days was nothing compared with the usual silences they put up with from the trenchcoated angel. But still, Dean couldn't help but feel something was fundamentally wrong this time, something different. That this time, there was something more serious going on, something more damaged than from a few barbed words. That miserable shine in Castiel's eyes from the other day wouldn't leave him alone, nagged at his subconscious relentlessly. But he couldn't exactly ask Gabriel for updates, because he sure as hell wasn't going to be the first to break their silence pact. That and he was pretty sure Gabriel would skewer him on principle.

So fuck him. And fuck Castiel too. He wanted to act like a baby in a trenchcoat, then that was fine with Dean. He just wished that stupid part of his subconscious screaming that it was his fault would shut up so he could get some sleep. He'd only just managed early that morning to convince Sam to tell Gabriel to get rid of the quartet, and he was exhausted. Waking up to the blood didn't exactly help but with Sam's promise to talk to the archangel, Dean collapsed back onto his mattress and tried to relax and resolutely not think about Cas.

It wasn't easy when the dreams that weren't of the stupid holy tax accountant were full of snow, cursed roses and blood spattered angel blades.

"Alright, we need to talk."

Gabriel leant his head back to stare at Sam, upside down, from where was flopped on the bed, his feet resting comfortably on the pillows. The hunter was looking down at him, arms folded, disapproving bitchface out in full force.

"Sounds serious." Gabriel replied, blowing a bubble with his strawberry gum. "What's rattling around in that big, sexy brain of yours, Gigantor?"

Sam rolled his eyes and leant against the table. "Gabe, I'm not kidding."

Gabriel sat up, even halting his chewing motions as he regarded Sam's serious posture and his tightly arranged limbs. "Okay, I'll bite," He began, raising an eyebrow. "What'd I do this time?" His expression darkened as a thought occurred to him. "This had better not be about Dean, though. I told you already, I'm not fixing his stuff or calling off his boots. I only let the singing go because he threatened to keep interrupting our sex time."

Sam's deepened frown and averted gaze was all the response Gabriel needed. Scowling heavily he flopped back onto the mattress and glared at the ceiling, purposefully chewing loudly and with his mouth open, because he knew it drove Sam crazy.

"I'm not easing up on him until he apologises." He paused. "On bended knee." He hesitated again, and then added, "And lets me get in one free revenge prank. And that's me being nice, Sammy. Saintly, even."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "It is?"

"The way I'm feeling, he's lucky he's not dying every day again. From a plane crash. Where he's fixed to the wing of the plane."

The hunter sighed. "I'm just saying, the blood just now was a little extreme."

"Blood? What blood?"

"Oh don't play dumb with me, Gabe." Sam began sternly, but was silenced as Gabriel sat up again, genuine confusion on his face.

"No, seriously, what blood?"

Sam studied Gabriel hard for a long time. "Dean just told me he woke up and found some blood by his bed. Are you sure you have no idea -"

"Sammy, I swear on our sex life that I'm not guilty here." Gabriel replied solemnly. "You'd know if it was me, Kiddo. I'd have dumped buckets of the stuff on him when he was sleeping."

"Well who else could it have been?"

Gabriel shrugged. "It's probably the angel responsible for this whole mess, trying to freak Dean out. And I have to say, it's not a bad idea." He added in a pondering tone, stroking his chin and laughing when Sam rolled his eyes again.

"Gabe, are you sure -?"

"Look, Sam. As it stands right now, Dean and I are never going to speak again. But that doesn't mean I'm not still keeping an eye on him for you. I know what he means to you, Kiddo. And I promise you, nothing threatening has been sneaking into your brother's room. It's got to be an angel, and an angel who knows where you chuckleheads are. So I think it's safe to assume it's the wonderful brother or sister of mine who's responsible for this whole mess."

Sam nodded, the knot of tension in his temples easing slightly. "I suppose." He cleared his throat, then asked, "How's Cas doing?" The pit of his stomach dropped when the reassuring smile was wiped instantly from Gabriel's face and instead became marred with concern. "Gabe?"

"Not too good at all, actually. I found him just hanging around outside a few hours back, so I moved him into Singer's room. And no," Gabriel interrupted Sam's question before he could even open his mouth, "He still doesn't want to see Dean. But it was weird."

"What, Cas hanging about in the same area as Dean?"

Gabriel scoffed, but he still looked worried. "No, jackass. I have met my brother before, ya know, and know full well that he has some kind of magnetic pull to Dean. No, what was weird was.. Well.. He wasn't even using his wings."

"What? Why?"

"I don't know Sammy, but it was weird. I mean, he's been keeping a low profile; I've made sure of that. But if I didn't know any better, I'd say he'd been attacked. I mean, it looked like he'd been shot or something."

"Shot?" Sam repeated incredulously. "I thought bullets couldn't -"

"Not by bullets, Sammy; by arrows. And before you say it, no, they can't. I'm just saying, that's definitely what it looked like. But nobody's been near him. I've been watching that room ever since I moved him in. No-one's gone near."

"So then where did -?"

"That's the thing that worries me, Sammy. I don't know. I healed them and his wounds went away, but he still wouldn't use them. Almost like he didn't have the mojo." Gabriel lay back down again. "I've been trying to figure it out since I got back here, but I've got nothing."

Sam bit his lip, brow furrowing. When Gabriel was clueless about something, there was plenty of reason to be concerned.