"Just a part of the strange mechanism of the world, with its fits and coughs and starts and random collisions."
The reasons behind Gabriel's constant presence become all too clear when Dean stumbles across said archangel and Sam, twisted up in some horrifying, compromising position.
With nauseating realisation slamming into existence, he scrambles for refuge at the local bar; drowning in alcohol sounds promising. Beer number three blurs into something closer to seven, until he stops caring how his brother is, apparently, involved with a freaking angel of the Lord.
Dean can't even get a response to a single text.
Typical.
If he spends the rest of the night dwelling on eyes that spark like sapphires — it's a simple coincidence.