Chapter two: Never listen to Dean. This one will center around Sam and Gabriel.

A/N:Totally forgot about the disclaimer in chapter one, so here it is.

Disclaimer: All characters including Dean and Sam Winchester; Castiel: Angel of the Lord and Gabriel, the Herald Archangel are all property of Supernatural and it's owner, Eric Kripke. I own nothing but the plot and SPN DVD's. And as such, I make no money from this story.

This chapter is dedicated to Maknatuna-who inspires me; Mapal-who gave me good advice; Nurselintu-whose stories rock and who I worry about and of course, caughtinblackseyes-whose long emails give me the happies and her obsessions are my own. Read her stuff!

Enjoy and please review. Tell me if this sucked.

Cold. He was fucking freezing. Why is he the one that has to be outside? Freaking Dean! The one time his brother doesn't pick scissors! He always picks scissors! Not this time! Ten damn degrees out here; it's snowing for God's sakes! All he needs is a damn blizzard and wouldn't that just be his luck? Visibility out here is shot. The ground is frozen solid. How the hell is he supposed to find an unmarked grave on a property that consists of hundreds of acres when he can't see ten feet in front of him? He knew coming out here half-cocked was stupid! But no! He had listened to his ass of a brother. Clenching his fists-why hadn't he wore gloves? Easy, because his brother is a dick! He remembered the scene in the motel room earlier that day.

Sam was not happy with his brother. All he wanted to do was find a way to rid the town of this ghost. Dean wouldn't shut up long enough for Sam to find answers.

"...C'mon! I wanna hunt this thing."

"No. Not until we have more info-."

"It's a damn salt-n-burn! Easy. Do it in our sleep."

Sam sighed.

"Bull. This one's dangerous. You heard what they said. It's been around a long time. It's strong. I'm not going anywhere until I know more and neither are you!"

"But, I'm bored-."

Sam answered without looking up from the laptop.

"Watch TV."

"Nothing's on."

"Take a nap."

"Not tired."

"I am going to kill you! Go get food, interview...

Anyone, get a map of the building. I don't care; just let me finish this in peace!"

"Geez, something crawl up your ass, Samantha?"

Sam clenched his fists and glared at his brother.

"You either find something to do for ten damn minutes or I will give you that old book and you will-."

"Don't even say it-."

"Research."

"You said it! I told you not to say it and you said it! And don't give me that bitchface-.'

Siblicide was starting to look good to the younger Winchester.

"I am not making a bitch-."

"Don't even. It's number one-ninety-nine. I am not a damn drama queen!"

"Y'know what? First, I do not have a bitchface and... Did you say one-ninety-nine? You're saying I have almost two hundred...

Looks?"

"No."

"Better not."

"You have two hundred and forty bitchfaces. And don't even get me started on the emo-Samantha shit. Thousands. And as the awesome big brother, I know 'em all."

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean's smug look.

"Fine. Then be an 'awesome big brother' and sit your ass down and go through this book-."

"Uh, I'm going to...go talk to the...witness from yesterday...yeah", he looked for his jacket, grabbed his keys and sprint to the door, "back in ten!"

Sam grinned. Blessed silence.

"Oh yeah, I'm good."

He sat back down and got back to work.

Two hours later, he was in full-on bitching mode. He paced the room, stopping in front of the mirror. As he looked at his reflection, he distantly wondered which number this bitchface was. He rolled his eyes. Great. Now he's got me doing it. Turning to look at his laptop, he sighed. He'd found nothing and his damn brother had still not returned. Ass.

What the hell was taking him so long? Dean left over two hours ago. Just to get out of doing research. They'd talked to the witnesses yesterday. All two of them. What did Dean think he was going to learn at the diner? Wait. The diner? Where that girl was? Sam wanted to bitchslap himself. Or Dean. He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. He'd fallen for it! Older brothers suck. Way to go, Sam. The youngest Winchester swears his close proximity to his brother is siphoning out any intelligence he has. He's pretty sure that soon he won't have the brain cells to add two plus two without a calculator.

He should've realized. Dean had been impatient, bitching about ganking the latest monster of the week; pacing, turning the TV on and off and generally getting on Sam's last nerve. Ten minutes of silence. It's all he'd needed. He'd finally told him to find something to do. Threatened he would give him some old book unless he made himself useful. Sam rolled his eyes at the panic coming off his brother and then that damn smirk.

That girl. At the diner. The waitress. Shelly. He doubted Dean even knew her name. Hadn't stopped his brother from practically getting laid right there on the table in front of him. Moreover, what looked like the entire population had decided to Fine, it was like a dozen People, but still! The diner that was five minutes away?

He thinks he's seen all of Sam's bitchfaces. Ass hasn't seen anything yet! He grabbed his phone for the umpteenth time and hit Dean's cell number. Wasn't going to do any good, it just went straight to voicemail.

"Dammit, Dean! Answer your damn phone! I swear if you aren't back here in five minutes, I'm going to tell the whole town you have an STD!"

He slammed the phone down, smiling. Payback is a bitch! He grabbed his jacket-and stopped. Whistling. Familiar whistling; the doorknob turning.

Dean walked in, grinning.

"Heya, Sammy", he turned and shut the door and looked back at his brother, "uh-oh, number sixteen."

"Have you lost your fucking mind?"

Dean grinned, "Yep, that's sixteen alright."

"You want to tell me why, with a hunt to deal with, you take off for two hours and don't even answer your damn phone?"

Dean looked at his phone, "huh. Must've forgotten to turn on the ringer."

"I am going to hurt you."

"Chill out, Sammy. Y'know, maybe if you got laid, you'd relax."

"Is that your answer for everything? Get laid?"

"Yep. Just look at me. That and good country living."

"Oh, is that where you've been? Enjoying the fresh air?"

Dean looked at him and rolled his eyes.

"Are you nuts? Spent me some one-on-one time with that hot waitress, Sheree."

Oh. My. God. He knew it! He fucking knew it! Was it even possible for Dean to keep his...junk in his pants? Okay, that's not a thought he ever wants to think again. Wait.

"Sheree?"

"Yeah. The waitress", the elder hunter bit his lip in thought, "least I think that was her name. Coulda been Sharon or Sheila...Can't expect me to remember some girl I just met."

"Seriously? You slept with her twice-."

"Three times." Dean grinned.

"When did you even have time to...never mind. You slept with her and you can't even remember her name?"

"That about sums it up, Sammy."

"Manwhore. Her name is Shelly-."

Dean tilted his head, narrowing his eyes.

"Really? Are you sure? Coulda sworn-."

"God, Dean. Just shut up. At least tell me you found out something useful."

"Oh. Uh, no. What about you? Get your geek on?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "Nothing. Call Castiel. Maybe he knows something."

"No dice, called him earlier on the way to the diner. What?"

Sam just looked at him strangely.

"What?"

"Nothing. So, you called your angel-."

"Yeah and-wait. What? What the hell are you talking about? He ain't my angel."

"You sure? Not convincing me, Dean."

"God. Just shut up."

Sam knew his brother. Well. Was there something...no. Anyone but Dean and it would be a possibility, but his brother is too heteronormative to go gay for an angel. He smiled. One of 'em had to be straight. He wanted shit he shouldn't. Gabriel was a damn tease. He looked up to see Dean staring at him.

"Why you smiling'?"

Shit. Need to get back on Cas-.

"What did you say?"

Crap. He'd said that out loud. He looked at Dean. Hmmm, interesting. His manwhore brother was looking...pissy.

"Dean? You sure there's nothing-."

"God. Drop it! I just had sex with a girl... twice!"

"Ewww. I don't want to know. So...you called him on your way. What'd you do?"

"Damn angel never answered so I left a message."

"Okay, so...what? He's pissed at you for calling him and turning your ringer off?"

"Uh, no. Gave him the address and he...well-."

"What did you do?"

"I was...um, kind of in the middle of...something and-well, he was cramping' my style."

"You...Dean! He showed and you bitched because you wanted to get into some girl's pants? A girl, I might add, whose name you can't even remember! Jesus, Dean!"

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Cas gets it. I got needs."

"Yeah, you need to stop acting like he's waiting' around at your beck and call! You need to stop treating him like crap!"

"What the fuck? What's your problem? Cas isn't doing anything he doesn't want to! Besides, he's been weird lately. Not my fault he keeps pissing me off. Think he gets off on it. Got all weird when he saw me with...the girl. Said she was beneath me-."

"Please tell me you didn't..."

Dean's grin gave Sam his answer.

"Hey! You can't give me a line like that and not expect me to-."

"Lemme guess. You told him if you had your way she would be... beneath you?"

"Well, actually I told Cas she would be if he would go the hell away. So, don't think we can count on Cas on this one."

"No shit. You ever think that maybe Castiel might need to relax-."

Dean's eyes widened.

"You think...have you lost your mind? There is not a gay bone in this hot body!"

"I didn't mean you. God. It's a good damn thing, because you're so full of yourself, no one else would fit in there!"

Sam froze, had he just talked about Dean-. He looked at Dean. Crap. His face was red.

"What the hell, Sammy? I will have you know that if I was into that whole...gay thing, I would be a damn... whatever the guy in control is!"

"A top, Dean."

"And how the hell do you know that? You bisexy or something?"

Sam's embarrassment turned to laughter at Dean's term for bisexuality.

"What? What's so damn funny?"

Sam could only shake his head. Dean huffed and turned towards the bathroom.

"When you're done, maybe we could go kill us a ghost. Unless you'd rather stay here and watch some gay porn or something."

Dean shoved Sam out of the way and slammed the bathroom door behind him. The younger hunter finally got control of himself and called Bobby. His uncle's phone was answered.

"And how are you, Sam."

Crowley? Why was Crowley-?"

"Stop answering' my damn phone! Not gonna tell your demon ass again! Who the hell is-?"

"Bobby. It's Sam. Why's the King of Hell..."

"Dammit. Because he's bored or some stupid shit. Driving' me up the damn wall. Know this ain't a social call; have something to do with that damn vicious ghost hunt I sent you two on?"

"Yeah. Got here yesterday-can't find out shit."

"Boy, you better watch that mouth. What's the problem? Know how to kill it yet?"

"Sorry, Bobby. NO. Coming up empty. Dean-."

"Where's that boy? Get him on the phone."

"Dean! Bobby wants to talk to you!"

"You tryin' to bust my eardrums boy?"

"Oh. Sorry. Here-."

"Hey Bobby. Got anything for us, flying blind, here."

"You 'spect me to pull answers out of my ass? Just what have you been doing, boy?"

"Uh, research?"

Dean glared at the phone when Bobby relayed his words to...who the hell were-.

"Is that fucking Crowley?"

"Boy! I just yelled at your brother about his mouth! He's picking up your bad habits! You really want me to drag you into the shed?"

"Hey! You can't do that anymore! I'm grown!"

"Never too old for me to tan your hide."

Sam tried to get Dean's attention. He knew what was next.

"Oh yeah? What are you planning' on doing? Driving two hundred miles? Don't think so."

Sam face palmed.

You have to come back sometime! Don't be a smartass with me, little boy! I'll make sure you can't sit without crying like a little girl! Got it?"

Sam grinned when Dean pushed out his bottom lip into a pout and whined into the phone.

"Bobbyyyyy! All right, alright. I'm sorry. Geez!"

"Idgit. Tell me what you got."

"We got nothing! That's why we called! We have been...oh fine, Sammy. He's been researching and I've been...questioning the witnesses-."

"Boy, don't lie to me! The only questions you're askin' are what time your 'witnesses' get off."

"She got off all right-."

Dean listened to the dial tone and stared down at the phone.

"He hung up on me."

"Great. You're such an ass, Dean. Now what do we do?"

Sam came back to the present. Fuck. It was getting worse. He couldn't feel his hands and he was frozen. God. Everything hurt. He began to walk towards the ruins of the old house. It seemed so far. He should've taken a nap while Dean was...he moved slowly as he could hear Dean's damn voice. He looked up, glad to see...damn. He heard him. Where the hell was he? He yelled out his brother's name and saw...him. Wait. Gabriel? He yelled for the archangel, smiling with relief. He could count on Gabe. His legs gave out and he collapsed onto the ice. While he waited, he thought of Dean's brilliant answer to his 'what do we do now' question.

'It's just a simple hunt, Sammy! Half an hour tops and you can get your geek on while I go spend some time at the bar, hustle some pool, we need cash. Baby's empty."

Sam stared at him.

"Oh God number one-ten."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"The face. One-ten. Hey! I am not fucking insane!"

Sam glared and pointed at the window.

"You are if you think I'm getting caught in that! It's fucking cold out there! It's snowing! Supposed to be a blizzard coming this way!"

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Stop being such a girl, it barely snowing out there. God!"

"If you think I am following you to some godforsaken old house to hunt down a nasty ghost, you can just forget it!"

"Sam-."

"No! Nobody knows anything about the house or the ghost! There are no land or cemetery records! We don't even know its damn name! And... We don't have any idea where the thing is buried! There's hundreds of acres and snow covering everything and how the hell are we suppose to gank the thing? The house is in ruins and... and it's freaking stupid and dumb and if you have a brain at all in that head, you'll wait until we can see five feet in front of us!"

"Sam. Relax. It's a ghost. Salt-n-burn. Easy."

"You kidding?"

"Ah, c'mon, Sammy, have a little faith. I got this."

Dammit. He could feel himself caving. Then he smiled to himself.

"Fine. How about we..."

Dean grinned. This is in the bag.

"Ready, Sammy?"

Sam nodded and the game began.

"Scissors. Sorry Dean. I win."

"Two outta three?"

"Fine. Go."

They played and Sam's smile slid off his face.

Dean raised his arms in victory.

"But...you always pick scissors-."

"What? I do not. C'mon, let's-."

"Wait-you sure it's not going to be a disaster?"

"Yep. Fact I'll even do you one better. I'll take the ghost, you find the grave."

"What? Why?"

"To convince you. If I thought there was any chance of a storm, would I leave you out in it?"

Sam breathed and nodded.

"Yeah. Okay. Let's go."

"If he freaking thinks I'm walking around out there in the snow, he's nuts."

Sam spun around, "What did you say?"

"Huh? Nothing. Get a move on!"

'I know I'm going to regret following his ass.'

Sam came out of the memory, frowning. When the hell had it gotten so dark? Oh. His eyes were closed. Huh. He looked around. Where was Dean? Gabriel? Even the ghost would be better company than all this...white. He looked around, when had he sat down? At least he wasn't shivering. Strange. Not so cold down here. Should a thought of this sooner. He thought of that stupid joke of Deans.

'Know why you're always freezing your ass off sasquatch?'

'No. Why, Dean.'

'Cuz it's thirty degrees colder up there!'

Sam giggled. Wow, Dean was wise...yeah, wise-ass, maybe. He giggled louder. Once he stopped laughing, he looked around. It was so beautiful. All white and clean. He yawned. God, he was tired. Why was Gabriel taking so long? He always came. Sam snorted and sighed, and pulled off his jacket. He rolled it into a ball, laid down on the makeshift pillow and slept. Smile still on his face.

Bored. Bored. Bored. This was the damn reason he'd become Loki and later, the Trickster. Being an archangel was not all it was cracked up to be. Where in the pamphlet had it listed being bored to death as part of the package? Nowhere. No wonder Dad had enlisted Gabriel's aide. This sucked. Then the archangel smiled.

"It's been fun times, boys and girls, but I gotta go. Sammikins wants me. Toodles!"

He snapped his fingers; saw the frowns and indignant looks. His work was done here. He arrived in the motel room. Huh. Empty. Damn. And here he was hoping his hottie was dreaming of him. He walked to Sam's laptop, glanced at it and frowned. Snapping again, he looked for Deano's car. The lot was empty. It was snowing. Heavily. This is one of the times he is glad he's not human. He watched a couple run into a store, nestled in thick knee-length coats. He closed his eyes, sent out feelers. Cas' was the strongest. He appeared. Hmmm, interesting. Fodder for later. Looking around he didn't see Sammy. Where the hell was that boy? On Sam's laptop, a picture of the acreage and... fuck! He appeared outside the old farm and looked. Place was fucking huge. And White. Holy dad, it was like a blank canvas. his eyes narrowed. Brown. Boots. Jeans. How had he ended up way over there? He flew to him. Shit. Sam wasn't moving. Gabriel was.

"Sam!"

The youngest Winchester never moved.

"Sammy, wake up!'

If Gabriel had had a heartbeat, it would have been fast. Beating-out-of-his-chest-fast.

He set his bottom set of wings under the hunter, keeping the cold from seeping into Sam and used his other sets to surround them both, slowly replacing the frigid air with heat and covered Sam's body with his own warmth. When he said he was a hot archangel, he meant it.

"C'mon, Sammy. Can't play if you don't wake up."

"G-Gabe? T-tired. Lemme sleep."

"No! We gotta warm you up."

"What...mmmm, not cold, snugg-snuggil-warm."

Gabriel shook his head. Stanford genius, his ass. Which the archangel had to admit, the moose had a stunning ass. He fluttered his wings, the vessel's body moving against Sam's as he brought his temperature back up. Slowly. Color began to come back into the human's skin and the frostbite tapered off. It had been close. Too close.

"Gabe? That you? Dark out here."

"Open your eyes."

Sam slowly opened his eyes and he pulled the archangel closer.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself. You feeling' okay?"

"You came..."

Gabriel frowned when Sam grinned and began giggling.

"Samuel?"

The archangel slid his hands up Sam's neck, cupping his jaw line. He leaned in and brushed his lips over the human's, filling his lungs with warm air. He closed his eyes when Sam's hands gripped the archangel's hair and pulled him closer, opening his mouth to intensify the kiss. Moaning, Gabriel rubbed his body against the hunter's, licking into his mouth, tasting him. He tasted so good. Felt so good. Reluctantly, he pulled back and watched as Sam opened his eyes. He pulled the archangel down and whispered.

"Wanted to do that for a long time, archangel."

Gabriel was tempted to fly them to somewhere warm. He opened his mouth to speak and Sam yelled.

"Shit! Dean! He could be-."

"Cassie is solving the problem. They are fine."

Sam looked confused when he realized they were standing just outside the main door to the farmhouse. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes.

Gabriel became concerned. "Sam?"

The hunter opened his eyes and smiled.

"Thank you, Gabe. I was dying, wasn't I?"

"Yes, Sam. I think I should be leaving."

"No! I mean, wait. You said Castiel was here. Dean was a bitch to him earlier. He wouldn't show. Hell, I wouldn't have."

"Sammy, Deano would have to do...actually, I don't think there is anything your brother could do to drive Cassie away."

"I don't know. Dean's been whoring around and acting stupid. I don't know what the hell's going on with him."

"C'mon, sexy Sammy, it's quiet in there. Let's go see if we can find out."

Okay. There it is. Have a great night, everyone!