Dean sucked air in through his teeth irritably, navigating through the sea of early morning rush hour traffic. He couldn't really remember where Gabriel's apartment was, so tensions were running high.
"If you'd just let me phone Pamela…" Ellen sighed, for the billionth time, knowing exactly what Dean was muttering under his breath in response.
Rumsfeld ruffed a sound of annoyance from the back seat, where he was lounging his rottweiller frame as much as the car would allow.
"He's going to need a bathroom break soon…"
"I know where I'm going."
"No you don't."
"I know enough."
"No you don't! Why can't I just call Pamela and ask for directions?"
"Because I don't need you to ask, I'm fine."
"What a stereotypical male thing. Dean, I swear, sometimes, if you weren't my kid…"
"I'm not your kid, so go ahead."
"Dean! What is the matter with you?"
"I'm pissed off. I'm tired, I'm dragging my ass across town so we can convince Sam's boyfriend to get back together with him and I get to hear them having awkwardly-trying-to-be-quiet sex through my bedroom wall, Sam's pissing me off anyway, and I can't remember a time when I wasn't staring at some douchebag Porsche."
"A car can't be a douchebag."
"Can too, it has vanity plates."
Ellen sat forward and peered through the windshield.
"Daddi-3-sgal- oh I'm going to puke. Comment withdrawn."
"Thank you."
Ellen glanced at Dean, her lips pursed.
"Never get vanity plates."
"Hah. Yeah, no fear of that happening."
"I'm serious." Ellen reached into the glove box and withdrew a bag of Oreos. She opened it and began the cream excavation process. "If you, Sam and Ellen can make it through your life without getting vanity plates or misguided facial tattoos, I can die knowing I've been a good mother."
Dean chuckled, taking his hand from the wheel and waggling his fingers at Ellen. She handed over an Oreo, and held out her cream-covered finger for Rumsfeld to lick, before starting on the dry biscuits.
"I had a nightmare, actually, not long after you turned thirteen, where you came home and you were like, 'mom, mom, I got a tattoo!' And when I looked, you had clown make-up tattooed all over your face."
"What?" Dean laughed.
"Oh yeah, it was real horrible stuff, too. You looked like It. Every Halloween I have that nightmare now."
"Seriously?"
"Yup. Well, sometimes it changes. Sometimes you've just coloured in your entire face blue. Or green. Like camo paint." Dean was in hysterics now, glancing as Ellen stared out of the window, her eyes narrowed at her thoughts. "And I always scream at you and ask you where the shit you got a full face tattoo, and then you say it was Chuck. E Cheese, and I'm like, when did Chuck. E Cheese start doing tattoos?"
Dean was laughing so hard his eyes were watering as he brought the car to yet another stop.
"Have you got a plan for when we get there?"
"Slap the little SOB around the head 'til he wisens up?"
"Hasn't worked on Sam."
"Yeah, Sam suffers from permanent altitude sickness." Ellen sniffed. "You got any ideas?"
"Stand back and look menacing." Dean grinned. "Usually works." The grin faded as silence descended on the traffic. "Ellen?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm… gay."
"I know, sweetie. I'm the one who had to tidy up your room all those years you had a crush on that boy from school. But thank you for telling me."
Dean smiled, still feeling like there was a flock of butterflies in his stomach.
Was it called a flock? A flutter? A gathering?
"Who is he?"
"Huh?"
"I presume you've got a special guy, if you're coming out to me."
"I… maybe. We're kind of… cooling it, for now. Figured with Sam being the way he is, it wouldn't be tactful, you know?"
"Mm. Well, I hope I get to meet him soon. He's very lucky to have a guy like you."
Dean flushed a little, and looked out of the window. Suddenly, light broke through the clouds and a heavenly choir descended.
"Hey! That's it! That's Gabriel's!"
"Oh thank god. Park up, let's get in there. And… Dean, take some advice from the ol' lady?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't give up anything that you deserve. Sure, don't flaunt it in his face, but there's no reason to sacrifice your happiness on account of Sam. Just… my experience." She smiled, kissed him on the cheek, and waited for the car to be parked up properly. She got out and fetched Rumsfeld from the back seat, leaving Dean momentarily mired in a flash flood of thoughts.
(-*-)
Dean had to admit, no matter how arduous the journey had been, it was worth it to watch Gabriel getting beaten up by a blind woman and, you know, his mom. In fact, as soon as Gabriel had opened the door (which took a lot of effort, apparently), Pam was hitting him with her cane.
You utter god-damned idiot." Ellen stood in Gabriel's doorway, Rumsfeld at her ankles, looking like a pretty formidable woman. Gabriel didn't look like he particularly wanted to be accosted at this hour of the morning, but Dean figured he should suck it up and deal with it, because no one looked like they were going anywhere.
"Ok," Gabriel sighed, playing the wounded idiot card for all it was worth, "Fine. Yes, I'm a tool, yes, I broke poor Sammy's heart and I'm sorry, it's not him it's me…"
"Oh get over yourself." Ellen shoved him in the shoulder.
Gabriel turned to Dean. Dean laughed, pretty sure that Gabriel could whistle for it.
"Dude, you're on your own here. Oh, and Jo says you're an idiot too, but she had to go back to college."
"Yeah, she says you're a total utter moron." Ellen continued beating up Gabriel, which Dean had to admit made him glad he'd driven out there. "How could you let Sam run away?"
"I didn't… he… what did you want me to do, take him hostage?"
"You weren't supposed to let him go!"
"But he wanted to!"
"Oh, Sam's never known what he wanted; why else d'you think he's still in education?" Ellen was getting wound up, and Dean had no inclination to calm her down. He was the one who'd had to put up with Zombie-Sam mooching around the apartment acting like he'd had to kill his own puppy. If anyone should be knocking Gabriel about, Dean thought, it should be him. "Gabriel, Sam has spent his whole life running away from what's good for him. He needs you to tell him to stop it. He needs to know that you're going to commit to him. Words aren't enough, hun, you need actions."
"Gabriel…" A voice came from a bed-headed blonde man, who had so far been invisible on the other side of the sofa. "What time is it, who are these people and make me breakfast."
The blonde man was shirtless. Dean stared at Gabriel. Gabriel stared back.
"This better not be how it looks."
"Cousin! He's my cousin!" Gabriel exclaimed, with so much urgency that Dean was inclined to believe him.
"Ooh!" Pamela smiled, throwing herself down on the couch. "Balthazar's still here?"
"Pamela." Balthazar smiled, suddenly very alert indeed. Gabriel, to his credit, looked like he was clinging on to the last few shreds of whatever it was that kept him together. Maybe Dean had been too quick to judge, but now he had a proper look around the place, and at Gabriel, it seemed like he might have been taking things as hard as Sam. Between the two of them, Sam and Cas had given Dean a fairly good understanding of how the break-up had happened. So Gabriel had probably been made to swear off drink or anything like that, but it seemed to Dean he'd replaced the urge to drink or smoke or eat with tidying. The apartment was spotlessly clean, but not presented with any care or attention.
Dean wondered if this was what suddenly losing someone you loved did to you.
Then he realised he already knew the answer to that.
Gabriel was ranting, and Dean snapped back to attention.
"If you want to be anything other than in the most abject misery, get the hell out of my apartment. Now."
Balthazar and Pamela edged quietly out of the apartment. Dean took this as his cue to leave, suddenly feeling nauseous, but this earned him a funny look from Gabriel.
"What? You said 'anyone who's hoping to get lucky'… I mean, I'm not… not with them… Fuck it, I'm going to starbucks." Dean left, quickly. He slipped past Pamela and Balthazar, who were wasting no time in getting handsy, and out into the car park. He tramped around in a circle, trying to shake off the feeling of nausea, and then, without really knowing what he was doing, he took his phone out of his pocket and hit the first name under "c" in his address book.
"Castiel DiAngelo speaking…"
"When mom died, I think Dad did pretty much the same as Gabriel."
"… good morning, Dean. One moment, please."
Dean heard a hissing, clunking sound as Castiel boiled the kettle.
"Would you like to come around for this conversation?"
"Can't… I just, need to get it out. Now."
"Very well. Go ahead."
"I lost Mom pretty quick. She wasn't ill, it was an accident. Gas explosion at the house. It was a miracle me, Dad and Sam were downstairs at the time and didn't get caught up in the blast. But after she… passed on, I guess, Dad kind of shut down. He wanted us to live well, he knew he had a responsibility to us, but he stopped caring about himself. And then, I guess, it kind of grew into hating us. Me and Sam, I mean. He got resentful that he had to stay alive to look after us. He… I don't know what happened to him once we got taken away. But, I think the thing that scared me most about being in the courtroom and everything, when the judge said he wasn't fit… he wasn't angry or scared or anything… he kind of looked relieved. Like he was glad. It… didn't seem right."
There was a pause at the other end of the line.
"Why did you phone me, Dean?"
"I… I've seen people give up things because they thought it was better they went without. And I've had to do it myself. And I don't think this, us, you and me… I don't think this is one of those things."
Cas was silent for what felt like a long time. Dean closed his eyes, and felt the ground spinning slightly beneath him.
"Meet me at my office, five o clock." Castiel said, eventually, "We can go for dinner."
Dean hung up the phone, feeling so much better. Then, stuck for anything else to do, he lay down in the car and waited for Ellen to be done torturing Gabriel.