Title: Don't Drink and Fly

Prompt: Written for kijikun on livejournal: Supernatural, Gabriel, John, "John Winchester? Me and you need to have a little talk about the way you're raising those boys of yours."

John was waiting in the bar for a short guy that no one knew by name, but was always on the scene when some bastard met with an ironic end. His sources agreed that the man was always smiling or laughing-too jovial to dislike, but "well, it's mildly creepy at a crime scene, ya know?"

John suspected a trickster, but he had yet to lay eyes on the guy himself. He had a stake and some funky herbs that Bobby swore would be useful in attracting the thing. So far all they had done was stink.

Even the poor slob on the stool next to him commented on the smell, leaning too far over and almost passing out in John's lap. John nudged the empty glasses aside to prop the guy up against the counter. "I think it's time the bartender cut you off of whatever you're drinking, buddy."

"Most of the liquor in Wisconsin," his companion belched, and let his head fall to the countertop with a thud. That seemed to help, because he raised it and let it collide again. And again. And again.

John wordlessly shoved a stack of napkins under the man's forehead. It took two softened-collisions to click. He glared up at John, who had already returned to scouting the bar for a short, sadistic, and smiley guy.

"Hey." A moment, and then louder. "Hey!" John sighed and looked down. The guy was wasted and indignant now. "I was doing something here."

"No need to dent the countertop with your hard head," John shrugged.

The man squinted at him. "Hey, I know you. You're . . . hah! You're one to talk, Mr. Stubborn-as-a-Mule."

"Look, man, I don't know you from Adam."

"He isn't even born yet," his self-decided companion scowled and ordered another drink. "Next year. Nice little surprise for you. Unless you mean the Biblical Adam . . . 'course it's all his fault. And yours."

Crazy with religious undertones. Possibly a hunter. Possibly a thing. Not currently dangerous. It could wait. John frowned and stood. "I'm going to go."

"Not so fast." A grip like steel closed around his wrist and hauled him back down to the stool. "John Winchester. John Winchester?" he repeated unsure now. He squinted again. "Yeah, I know you."

John was reaching for his gun.

"John Winchester? Me and you need to have a little talk about the way you're raising those boys of yours."

"What do you know about my boys?" John seethed.

"What don't I know?" The drunk gestured wildly, knocking glasses to the floor. "Everything. I know everything. Past, present, future . . . I'm practically a Disney cartoon."

John leaned back, not getting any further with the grip the guy had on his left arm.

"And you know, man, I tried to stop it. Keep trying to stop it. It's just that they're really stubborn, you know? And that's all on you . . . I mean the co-dependency issues alone . . ." he trailed off, shaking his head.

"You stay away from my boys," John growled.

His new acquaintance looked offended. "Hey, they found me first! And if they'd just listen, we could all go our merry ways without the world ending. But no, stubbornness is the Winchester way!" The guy almost slid off the bar stool, but John caught him rather than follow him to the floor.

"I like your boys. Really I do. They're the stupidest humans I ever met, but hey, Dean's got a great sense of humor and Sam makes an awesome Bill Murray . . . and where's the bartender? My hangover's fading . . ." the guy trails off, looking at John as if seeing him for the first time. "Oh, shit. You're real."

"Good to know. You going to continue or should I just shoot you now?"

The guy let him go and turned back to the bar. "Don't listen to me. I'm drunk."

"A little late. Who are you?"

"Nobody important. It's what I get for mucking with the time-space continuum while drunk." He clapped a hand on John's back. "Been great hanging with you, big guy, but I've got to get going before my evil twin shows up. He belongs here-er-now, and I have been known to be a little territorial."

He staggered to his feet, using John for leverage, and frowned when John followed. The guy barely came to his shoulder. "I can see where Sasquatch gets it," the man commented, snapped his fingers, and disappeared.

John privately resolved to parent exactly the way he had been parenting and perhaps step it up a notch.