Disclaimer: nothing mine. Duh. A. N. For anyone who's not a Douglas Adams fan, unlike Gabriel, a Babelfish is an alien fish that you stick in your ear. It'll feed off your mental waves, and you'll be able to understand any language. Hope you enjoy!
Gabriel had been so sure. Hit the boy's kink, add that, well, newly fixed body, surely it deserved testing, right? One Dean Winchester would jump Castiel, everyone would be so very happy, and he could move onto the next part of his little project to circumvent dad's outline.
Someone had to, after all. Michael would never. Lucifer is too proud to actually consider all the details and come up with a successful scheme, like he would in any situation that didn't involve family. Raphael...is Raphael. So often in the shadows that he might actually like dad's idea, just for the chance to get a spot in the sun next. (It's the grand finale. Raphael knows, but sometimes, Gabe wonders if that little detail managed to escape him.)
Dean didn't do his part. Ok, yes, Cas is blaming the nurse. Couldn't Sam help, since he's actually on their side? Knock her out or something?
But Gabriel listens, patiently. Actually demands the by-play, every word and look and breath, which Cas is only too happy to provide and... can he shake his baby brother until two neurons make contact? Enough to know when someone is making a pass at him?
After all, Gabe can't blame Dean entirely. It's the power imbalance, you see. It's bad enough kissing someone out of the blue (for a start) when you're reasonably sure you can handle the rejection if you're wrong. The way Cas could retaliate, if he wasn't so (obviously, annoyingly, seriously how can anyone miss it) smitten...ok. Flirting before going for it might be the better option. Not that Gabriel has ever been on that side of the equation, but he has enough sense to understand it.
Only he's seriously losing patience at this point. Being interrupted doesn't help, sure. Cas has a point there. He's itching to snap a closet-shaped dimension into existence and shove the both of them in it. It sure seems like the environment Dean might be most comfortable in, and possibly he'd finally get the hint and start playing seven minutes in heaven. That'd be a good start.
Only Dean's not supposed to know he's involved, otherwise he'll overthink everything and assume Cas is yet another illusion. Gabriel is actually one of the most powerful beings in existence (top ten, definitely), and he can't get two idiots to do what they wanted to in the first place. Talk about frustration.
He needs an idea before he starts screaming. And Castiel, as much of a Dean Winchester expert as he is, can't be relied on to come up with his own plan. He wouldn't need Gabriel to show him the ropes otherwise. (Mmm... there's another idea. Not sure how much they'd be into it, but at least, once tied up, they couldn't run away from...let him reiterate...What. Both. Want.)
His difficulties are kind of comforting, though. If Gabriel is having such a hell of a time just to get people to do what they can't wait to do, getting one of them - and his equally stubborn sibling - to do what they absolutely don't want to? It doesn't matter how impressive an ending dad thinks fratricide will make. God or not, he might just have bitten off more than even he can chew.
Well, here goes nothing. He could sit here and imagine scenario after scenario...and probably fail again, because the two lovebirds are just that annoying. The human one exactly as much as any actual sibling Gabriel has ever had. Dad might have created them as mirrors a little too perfectly. Wonder when he'll realize his mistake.
Or, he could call Sam. At least they can share the blame, for this and possibly the next time. As ever, he's overly cheerful when the other answers. He can hear Sam's jaw snap over the phone, and it makes him smile. Irritating people is an art, and Gabe is a master, even if he says so himself.
"What do you want?" the boy hisses.
"What? No apology?" Gabriel replies, grinning.
"Did you decide to switch to drug-infused sweets? Because if so, at least don't offer Cas any."
"Are you sure they wouldn't help?" Hey, ideas, ideas, ideas... No, no brain-altering substances unless Dean takes that initiative. "Not that I have had any yet. My baby brother would like some, though...probably will demand them himself, mind."
"What did I do, now?" Sam sounds suddenly exhausted, and a little bitter. It takes all the fun out of teasing him.
"Failed to hold the fort, if you ask him. Though from his report, five minutes more wouldn't have helped. Possibly not even another hour. Maybe I should apologize for him."
"You're not his minder," the boy says, "and I'm kinda busy here, so..."
"With what?" True, he's concerning himself with Cas at the moment, but he needs to keep an eye on Sam. If he's anything like the brother he's promised to, and he definitely should be, you never know what sort of trouble he might get into at any given time. Which is exactly why Gabriel is as fond of his exiled brother as he is. Sure, Lou can be a right bastard, but he's an entertaining one when he's in a good mood.
"Research." One-word answer, and sure, maybe Sam is just tired, but... Damn. He needs to make sure he won't have to worry about one Dean Winchester anymore, safely under Cas' wing. Then he can start puzzling out his brother's situation.
"Wouldn't happen to be on how to make your brother finally get it, would it?"
"I thought that was what you were there for."
"Honestly, things should have worked out already. I'm this close to just slamming my head into a wall until I forget why I decided to help them in the first place...and how annoying they can be."
Sam chuckles. "You tell me. Seriously though, you should start pulling your own weight."
"Oh, come on. Give me a hint. Anything." Gabriel isn't pleading. Archangels don't beg. Well, not unless it's a trick. But he's awfully close to being in earnest now. Castiel's pining and disappointment will wear him down if this doesn't end soon.
"Cas' true form wouldn't happen to have tentacles, would it?"
"...No." Ok, this question sounds actually concerning. Cas does not need to worry about some kind of Eldritch horror stealing his human, does he?
Handling Michael might turn out to be complicated enough. Sure, he's not made a move himself yet, and isn't that weird in the first place... And even more puzzling is how dumb his choices have been. Even if he didn't suspect that Cas would lose his mind over Dean, Gabriel knows for a fact that the host includes at least some angels that don't make you itch to bitch-slap them as soon as they open their mouths. But for some reason, Cas aside, the only ones explicitly ordered to handle the Winchesters belong to the aggravating category.
Handling Michael and octopus monsters... Gabriel can already feel a tension headache start to form.
Best double-check. "No actual exes like that, are there?"
"...I didn't know it was an option." Sam sounds positively disquieted.
"Oh, lots of things around." Gabriel would be surprised if dad never played with that idea, at some point or another. His old man gets bored easily.
Speaking of... focus. He needs to focus. Otherwise, the Plan - Plot - whatever will unfold. And he's not going to lose his brothers on anyone's whim. Not if he can help it.
He can't concentrate during the onversation, though. "Thanks anyway. See you soon."
"Or not," Sam huffs, hanging up.
Gabriel would find it offensive - and a bad omen for his next project - if it wasn't that this call...might have worked. Perhaps. There's something - not a fully formed idea, not even an outright suggestion. But it's like he's glimpsed the shadow of a possible solution while it was turning a corner and running away from him. A subconscious intuition.
Dad, Michael, monsters, Lovecraftian monsters specifically, annoying brothers, tolerable brothers, past relationships, not-coitus interruptus. What was it?
What could possibly help these two idiots? How do you get them to see the truth when Cas is still basically learning a whole new language and Dean - well, Dean's got a laundry list of problems all nicely printed. In several volumes, for anyone who cares to buy them.
If there's a way to misinterpret anything, at least one of them will. Short of an interpreter present, given that he wouldn't be trusted, and Sam...well, that's quite a lot to ask of anyone. Would a Babelfish have worked? And why, with all the things dad played with, he didn't make the really useful ones?
Translation, translation. Understanding. Gabriel's always been more for jokes and metaphors and any figure of speech to embellish and mirror and convolute a message, maybe that's why he's been useless until now. Well, if Dr. Seuss could write a book with 50 words, he can find a way for the obvious to come across even to the two emotionally densest - in different ways - beings in the whole of creation.