DISCLAIMER: I do not own Supernatural or Elf. If I did, would I be writing fanfiction?

A/N: Not only do readers get virtual cookies this time, you all get rainbow ice cream too for being so patient.

I have no idea what the Trickster's dog was called in Tall Tales, but I'm calling him Roscoe. Why? Because I am the author and I just can.

This chapter came out a lot gooey-er than intended. So here is your giant helping of daily angst:

Chapter 4

The phone was a work of art. Truly. It was, of course, his own design. Flashy and just tacky enough to blend into the background of his 'Batcave'.

Roscoe barked for his attention. The dog was not his own design. Instead of just wiling Roscoe into existence, he had adopted the abused pup from the local animal shelter. It might have been amusing to have a dog that shot lasers out of it's eyes or transformed into a robot, but there was something ... companionable in having a real dog.

Roscoe barked again, demanding his master's attention.

"What is it boy?" Gabriel offered him another treat. He knew he was spoiling the dog, but it was hard not to.

Roscoe accepted the treat as the phone began to ring.

"Buddy the elf, what's your favorite color?"

"What the fu-?"

"Deano! How's tricks? Got another mess you want me to clean up?"

There was a pause on the other end.

"I think there's something wrong with Cas."

"There is a long list of thing that are wrong with Cas. The intense staring thing for one. Two, he doesn't like ice cream. Have you ever met anyone who doesn't like ice cream? He's clearly insane!"

"You know what I mean." A weary sigh came through the mouthpiece. "He's sleeping."

"That's your big emergency?" Gabriel would never admit it, but at that moment he felt a tiny spark of something that might have been relief. "He probably need a good nap, being dragged after you two chuckleheads all the time. Mojo alone isn't enough to keep him going now."

"Oh. That make sense, sort of. Any estimates as to how long before he comes out of it? Because it's been four days already and-"

"FOUR DAYS?" Gabriel thundered.

Roscoe ran for the cover of the couch.

"YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THAT YOU WAITED FOUR DAYS BEFORE TELLING ME THAT HE MIGHT BE IN DANGER?"

Gabriel was losing it; wind whipping through the room.

"Where are you?!"

"Woah woah woah woah. No way in hell am I giving you our location!"

"Dean, listen to me." His voice was calm now, but it was the calm of the eye in a hurricane. "I need you to tell me where you are so I can find my IDIOT OF A BROTHER!"

On the other side of the country, Dean held his cell at arm's length.

"Anderson Hotel, Austin, Texas. Room number-"

"I'm here."

Dean nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Don't do that!" Dean snapped.

Gabriel was examining Cas for any obvious signs of injury.

"What was he doing when he passed out?" Gabriel asked, interrupting Dean's tirade about angels and personal space.

The hunter took a step back.

"Uh, we were getting some info for a case and out of the blue he told Sam he was tired. A few minutes later we got in the car and he collapsed in the back seat."

"What were you hunting?" Gabriel asked sharply.

"Just a routine haunt, nothing that could have done this."

Gabriel lifted Castiel's eyelid to look at the pupils. Dean was oddly reminded of doing the same, years ago when Sam had received a concussion.

"He really does seem to be just sleeping." The archangel sighed. After a moment's deliberation, he placed a hand on Castiel's forehead. The lines of tension and worry melted away and Cas shifted, muttering a little happy sleeptalking nonsense.

Dean didn't dare move, afraid of intruding on the moment.

"He wasn't always such a grump, you know." Gabriel smiled down at Cas's sleeping form. "Once upon a time he had a sense of humor. We were quite the team back in the day." He paused, as if remembering. "He looked up to me, you know? Toddled after me like a puppy, always gibbering away and asking why." Gabriel pitched his voice to imitate a high pitched squeak.

"Gabriel, why do birds sing? Gabriel, why is Zachariah so grouchy? Gabirel, when is Dad coming home? Can I meet him? Does he love me?" Gabriel chuckled unexptectedly. "And he always got my jokes, laughed at them even when they weren't that funny. We even used to plan pranks together. Sometimes I wonder-" He cut himself off verbably, but he couldn't help finish that train of thought.

'Sometimes I wonder if that's why he follows you, why he obeys you so readily. Do you remind him of me? When he looks at you does he remember his big brother?' Pointless wondering.

Dean had the sudden mental image of a six year old-looking Cas trailing after a nine year old-looking Gabriel and poking things with sticks the way Sam did did he was little.

"It was my fault he got turned all serious." Gabriel mused. Upon seeing Dean's questioning face, he elaborated.

"We were pulling a prank on Zachariah. The, ah, equivalent of putting a flaming bag of dog waste on someone's doorstep. Cas got caught and refused to rat me out." Gabriel closed his eyes. "I didn't step up to take any of the blame. Zachariah didn't take being pranked very well. Nasty temper."

His eyes popped open. "After that he started following Uriel and his gang. Dropped me like a hot potato. All my own doing, of course."

"Wow, you almost sound like you care." It was a friendly sentiment, but it definitely came out wrong.

Gabriel threw Dean an angry look.

"You know what? Forget it. Forget this whole conversation ever happened." With a snap of his fingers, he erased Dean's memory of the past minutes.

"So is he going to be okay?" Dean asked.

"He'll come out of it in a few hours." The archangel answered.

Then, "Take better care of him. He needs sleep and regular meals. Make sure he gets them." Another snap of fingers and he was gone.

Dean relaxed, his shoulders sagging a bit. No matter how personable a persona he put on, the Trickster still scared the crap out of him.

From the bathroom doorway, Sam appeared.

"Woah." He said.

Dean threw him a questioning glance.

"Did you hear all of what he just said?"

"He just said Cas will be fine. What's the big deal?"

Sam huffed.

"Guess he forgot to mindwipe me. S'not my place to tell, but Gabriel might care more than we thought."

"Gabriel? Nah, all he cares about is getting his jollies at the expense of the average shlub. Come on, we have to change locations. Help me get Cas to the car."

In his sleep, Castiel smiled.
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There will be more funny and less actual angst in the next chapter, I promise.