The stairs were long. Crowded again- just terrific. As much as he appreciated the big city, he was also a big proponent if personal space. Something neither of them were getting much of today. Dean had stopped mentally cringing every time the little lump that was Sam's body bumped against his chest. There was no point in beating himself up over that; it couldn't be helped. He just had to push through it and get this over with.

Once again, the sun made its point clear by temporarily blinding him when he surfaced to the sidewalk again. He took a nice deep breath of exhaust fumes, scanning the area to gather his bearings. The buildings cast a nice shade in certain areas, and he hoped Sam got a look at the place. Must've looked even crazier big to him.

Central Park was huge, as it turned out. Dean took a brief moment of reverence to soak it in, to think of how many movies had filmed maybe in this very spot. Pretty awesome.
"Heh. Bet I'm standing in the same spot as Godzilla. From the crappy 90's one... Sammy?" It occurred to him that the lump in his pocket had been pretty still, and he pulled open the flap to check inside if Sam had fallen asleep.

Having lightly dozed off, Sam cringed and shielded his eyes from the sharp glare of the sun.

"Ugh, knock first?" grumbled Sam, as he tried to adjust to the bright light. Standing up shakily in the pocket, stretched, happy to have finally stopped swinging while Dean walked. After a brief yawn, Sam glanced up at the enormous eyes that stared down at him,

"I think your nasty pocket stench knocked me out."

Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes. It couldn't possibly be that bad...
Though Sam couldn't see his whole expression clearly, he didn't need to; this silence was the particular one when Dean was wrestling with himself over something.
His thoughts were interrupted by a heavenly smell. He looked around for the source and foundit to be an apple funnel cake stand. Dean smiled. On cue, his stomach rumbled in agreement. The flap closed again.

Ten minutes later, funnel-cake in hand, Dean surveyed his surroundings, checking for prying eyes. The nearest people was a dad and son playing frisbee a ways away. Nothing to worry about if he made it quick. He sat down behind a wide tree.

"C'mere," he muttered, reaching into the pocket. He felt Sam stiffen, and tried to bury the immediate guilt from scaring him.

Instinctively, upon seeing the fingers bearing down upon him, Sam dove into the corner of the pocket. He felt the thick fingers wrap around his waist. The feeling gnawed at his instincts. The only clear thoughts that pressed on his mind seemed to be 'let go.' Naturally, Sam kicked and figited, but the spasm seemed to be shortlived.

Gathering himself on the palm of his brothers hand, he straightened his shirt and shot an embarrassed glare at Dean,

"A little warning would be nice..."

"Sorry." His lips became a thin line, eyes darted up and down Sam'a short length with a pity. It was short-lived. "Anyway.. Figured you could give me a hand with this, stretch your legs a little." he held up the fresh confection, smiling at Sam like he should be equally pleased by this presentation. Then he lowered both plate and brother to the leaf-strewn lawn. It was unexpectedly nervewrackng to have Sam out of his grasp. But he was right thre... What could happen?

As much as Sam tried to prove he was more than capable at this size, he found himself second guessing that notion as he was placed away from Dean. He really needed his brother, and the realization not only embarrassed him, but infuriated him as well. His eyes stayed glued to the man mountain that loomed over him. Dean was a giant. No... Sam looked at his shoes. It wasnt Dean who was a giant. He was an ant.

Sam shook his head. No, he couldnt think like that now. Dean needed him. He wasnt about to let Dean go through the same Hell that he was facing. He fought the urge to run back to Dean's hand, even though he hated being grabbed, it seemed so much safer than standing in the open.

Deep breath. Sam tried to calm down. He'd face innumerable monsters... he could do this. Turning his attention to the snack that Dean had scored for the both of them, Sam let a smile slid across his lips. While the health nut inside him begged for a salad, Sam couldnt help but be tempted by the enormous pastry. Something about the small, and hugeness of it dashed all his desires for his so called "rabbits food."

He stepped onto the plate, and ripped himself a piece of the ambrosia smelling morsel and began to devouring it, making sure to shoot a glare at Dean as his older brother eye him in a "he's so cute" way. God he missed looking down at the top of his brothers head.

Sam took a step and tumbled into sticky sugary mess, groaning as he peeled himself away from the tasty meal. He could hear Dean's rumbling laughter above him. Though, the laughter stopped suddenly. He looked up to see Dean's face pale, staring at something behind him. A rush of hot air hit Sam's back. He spun around and came face to nose with a dog. A very big dog. A great Dane? Sam couldn't tell at this angle.

He watched as the mouth opened before him, revealing its huge white death and long pink tongue...

Shit!, Dean thought. The dog looked friendly enough, but it wasn't wearing a collar. Dean happened to know that Sam had a a soft spot for dogs. Probably because Dad never let them have one growing up. But in this particular case, nothing could be further from the truth.

The dog's wet nose quivered as it observed the unusually mixture of person and pastry.

"Don't you dare." Dean growled, directed at the dog.

He was very slowly readying to lunge, but avoided sudden movements, lest the stray grab Sam and make a run for it. The pink tongue lapped out tentatively against Sam's stomach, then came back to lick most of the powder off his front. The dog tilted its head, revealing stained teeth. In a sudden eruption of movement, two arms shot out, strong hands muzzling the dog's jaw shut. Dean had to sidesteps to keep his grip as the dog squirmed, but he managed to reach behind him for a scrap of the cake and toss it at least 10 yards away in the opposite direction. It was distracted enough to follow the scent, running off.
"Nice try, bitch."

He immediately turned to look down at Sam and perform his usual "are you okay?" Test. He came back over and crouched down, hovering a hand near him with eyes watching him closely.
"Shit that was close ... You alright?"

Sam released a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He blinked his eyes a few times, trying to play back what had happen.

"That was," Sam paused to wipe of the lingering string for drool, "close."

"I'll say." Snickered a voice coming from beside Dean. The dog sat beside Dean, seeming to wear a grin over its face. Sam eyes widened in pure disbelief.

"What can I say," laughed the dog, sporting the all to familiar voice of Gabriel, "I've got a thing for sweets."

"Oh, that's just sick." Dean exclaimed, turning pink in the ears. The knowledge that Gabriel had just licked is own brother made HIM feel dirty, just thinking about it. He glanced down at Sammy, sharing a look.
"You're kinkier than I gave you credit for."

"Like I'm gonna let you have all the fun," Gabriel retorted.

"I'm not having fun! I know this is all a game to you arch-angels but-"

The dog growled lowly. "Don't act like you know me hotshot." He returned his attention back to Sam and tilted his head curiously.

Sam stood staring at the two, frozen in his place. He didnt like being in the ground between two bickering giants.

"What about you Sam," cooed Gabriel, he's hears folding in a questioning manner, "You having fun yet?"

Sam snorted, at a complete loss for what to say. Did an archangel really just lick him? Gross.

"Can it, Gabriel," snapped Sam, "before you get muzzled." The dog-angel snorted, blasting Sam with stale hot air. He lowered his body until he was lying down, eye level to Sam. Strangely enough, Sam appreciated the gesture. Gabriel's voice took a more serious undertone as he spoke,

"Figure it out Sammy?" he asked, his eyes mischievous still, but where there undertones of concern. "You're running out of time."

It's painfully obvious than neither of the hunters have a clue what Gabriel was getting at in all this. It was hard to see the intricacies in Sam's face even from a crouched position.

"We saw the paintings." Dean interjected. "Are you throwing the whole 'play your roles' shpeel at us again?"
"You're getting warmer." The dog with Gabriel's voice gave a whiny yawn. "But this one hits a little closer to home."
Dean sat down, giving his calves a break. The moment his butt was on the ground, the dog-angel sprang up, grabbed the back of Sam's shirt, and made a break for it. Dean could hardly believe his eyes. He scrambled back to his feet, bolting after him.

"GABRIEL! You son of a BITCH!"

A pair of mothers pushing their children in stroller shot his back a dirty look. A man drawing a caricature of a young lady paused to watch the guy with anger management issues chase a dog through an open field.
"Excuse me," Dean muttered sheepishly as he weaves between hot sunbathers in bikinis.

Sam couldn't help but scream as he was dangled this way and that, flying around like a limp rag doll. The adrenaline seemed to bypass the motion sickness somewhat, but his equalibrium spun wildly, and Sam was totally unaware of which way was up, and which was down.

Gabriel's swift canine strides soon distanced the captive Sam from his frantic brother.

"What the Hell Gabriel?!" shouted Sam shakily, trying not to gag on his own words.

Gabriel would have replied with a smirk, but his mouth was full.

Dean was running as fast as he could. He was ready to pull a gun on him, but there was no clear shot. Besides, he might hit Sam. Ignoring his lungs begging for more oxygen, he pressed on.

Over a wide, sunny bridge over the River, Gabriel slowed to a trot.

"Sam!" His voice was less distant, but a little out of breath. The dog darted to the side, going along the slope to under the bridge. Dean followed, closely now. But when he got there, they were no where in sight. He choked down a panicked feeling. What? Did he just drop him and run? What gives? They couldn't have just disa- well, considering Gabriel in the equation, yes they could. "What the hell?" He muttered, trying to remain calm as he kept his eyes forward, searching intently for the dog holding his brother captive.

A blinding flash of light had surrounded the pair, and in the time it would take to blink, Sam was sitting in the palm of the now human archangel. His head swivled wildly as he tried to get his bearings, but everything seemed bright, blurry and out of focus.

"Where are we?"

The angel smiled,
"Thats not important." His words came out soft and quiet, despite his size. While Sam appreciated the gesture, he was not at all happy with the gigantic angel.

"WH-"

"We need to talk." interrupted the angel, "Times ticking... and not just on my little game."

When Sam remained quiet, he went on. "You know there's a price on both your heads. Dead or alive, doesn't matter, they'll just bring you back."

That dick bag Zacariah came to mind, as well as his cohorts in the heavenly host. "You really think you've got your sealegs to rebel, Sam?"

"If thats what it takes..." mumbled Sam, wishing he sounded more sure of himself. The angel scoffed, looming in over him, forcing him to feel even smaller.

"You don't realize how important all this is..."

Unsure of how to respond to the sudden seriousness in the angel's tone, Sam remains quiet again, watching the angel study him. Gabriel sighed.

"If you can't figure out yourself, how do you think you'll be able to handle anything else, Sam?"

Gabriel tilted his hand a little, watching Sam predictably react in order to keep his balance.

"Listen, kiddo. I've been at this a long time. This whole apocolypse thing isn't gonna jus go away. You think I'm the only one who knows how to screw with you?" He raised his eyebrows almost sternly at the shrunken hunter. "But hey, whatever, right? Keep pretending you're in charge, maybe everything will work out."

Sam ran a hand through his hair and fell roughly to a sitting position. This whole ordeal seemed to be rooted more deeply than the initial trickster dickery he'd presumed it to be.

"Well what am I supposed to do?" he could feel his barriers crumble. Something about the angel seemed only sincere. Maybe it was the contrast between his normal nature, towards the serious air he'd taken.. but Sam could feel a sliver of trust starting to form.

With his head in his hands, he could feel the gigantic eyes as they bore into him.

"Listen here, Moose. This game? It for you to find the answers. Not me." Sam felt the angel's thumb as he rubbed it against his back. Although he still flinched, he was oddly comforted by the gesture. The angel was an annoying pest at best, but he was still on their side.

"Next time I stop in I want some answers," whispered the angel, his voice slowly regaining its sass, "Cause you've got just under 15 hours."

The image of Gabriel's face gradually faded to white again. Then he was back in Central Park, albeit at a much lower vantage point.

Dulled earthquakes hit the ground one after the other.
"Dammit Sammy." Dean mumbled despairingly. "You can't just disappear on me... Can't.."

Failure. My fault...
A horrible barrage of self-depreciating thoughts whirled around and around inside Dean's head. He could practically hear his father berating him on top of his own thoughts: 'you had one job to do, Dean- take care of Sammy. Most important. All it takes is one mistake... Dammit, Why didn't you listen to me?'

"Dean! Over here!" shouted Sam, more than a little flustered that he's brother couldn't find him. When his shouts seemed to go unnoticed, Sam began to march towards his titanic brother.

"DEAN!"

His brother was right there, and Sam bet that if he'd stop muttering to himself, he's probably have heard him. Sam watched Dean's face as he jogged after his brother, who was frantically scowering the grass looking for him. Thats when Sam saw it. The panic. It bleed from Dean. His eyes were wide, filled with a wildness that Sam had never seen before. It was terrifying to watch.

"Dean! I'm right here!" He shouted, waving his hands. Again, nothing. If he would calm down long enough to compose himself... No, Sam was done waiting around. This frantic Dean was not something that he wanted to get used to seeing.

Finally catching up to his older brother, Sam pulled on his brothers pant leg,

"Dean!"

Dean watched his steps carefully as he treaded through the grass, on a search that was becoming increasingly hopeless. He took another step and suddenly little Sam was in view, clinging hard to the denim around his ankle.

"Sam!" Dean gasped, eyes bugging out. He bent down to pluck his little brother off of his jeans. He barely took one good look at him to make sure it was really him before he hugged him gently, to his neck and shoulder. right now, he didn't even care how awkward it was. He was just overwhelmed by relief. He pulled away and held Sam out, giving him a little space.

"The angel's a speedy sonnovabitch.." He said, his darkened guilty gaze silently apologizing for not being able to catch him. "He didn't do anything Pervy to you, did he?"

Sam reddened at the thought of what Dean had implied.

"This isn't an episode of 'touched by an angel,' Dean," snorted Sam, trying to shake the awkward images that formed in his brain. "He just... talked."

Sam plopped himself down in Dean hand. The relief that crossed his brothers face was like an obvious wave. Not wanting to waste time on explanations, Sam continued,

"We don't have too much time left..."

Dean nodded grimly. "I know."

He shifted his position before standing up all the way. "I think I passed our next stop on my way here..." Instead over lowering him into the pocket again, he deposited Sam in a roughly sittng position on his shoulder. Dean carefully arranged the collars a bit higher so they would provide more cover, better if Sam slouched.

"Do you think he plans it all out or just makes it up as he goes?" Dean asked, still on his way winding down. "Cause I mean... We're just walking around New York City. No gunshot wounds, no 'nutcracker', or cheesy lines... Just me and you wandering the streets." He shrugged. "Besides you being a happy meal toy, this isn't as painful as last time." Dean said thoughtfully.

Sam nods, considering the thought.

"I think it's more serious this time, with the impending Apocalypse getting closer. Either that, or he's just warming up."

Sam shivered at the thought of this only being the start.

"Where to next?" Sam asked.

Dean sends him a very wry and very close smirk. "Most magical place on earth."