A Blatant Abuse Of Power

"Gabriel!" Sam jumps up from the motel bed at the sudden arrival of another man in the room, abruptly throwing an arm across his eyes. "Why are you naked...?" he pauses. "and alive, I guess."

"Our Father, absent from Heaven...mysterious be his modus operendi." Gabriel quips, seemingly unabashed by his total lack of clothing. Sam reluctantly removes his arm from his face and tries to keep his eyes on the other man's, but they keep sliding down over his chest, the slight softness of his belly between his hipbones. The hair there is the same slight golden brown as the bangs hanging over his eyes.

"I got demoted Sammy...Dad plays favourites." Gabriel waves his arms expansively.

"You mean..." Sam wills himself to stop looking at Gabriel but his eyes are stuck on him.

Gabriel holds his fingers up in an imitation of a gun, aiming it at Sam's chest, he 'fires' and a breath of warmth strikes in Sam's chest.

"Sam Winchester...be my valentine?"

Martha Stewart Has A Lot to Answer For

...at least in Dean's humble opinion, he stands at the doorway to Castiel's room, wondering why, in all the months since he and Sam bought the place, he hadn't noticed what Castiel had been doing with his space.

Sam shambles across the landing.

"What're you looking at?"

Dean points wordlessly.

"Wow." Sam sounds as stunned as Dean feels. "That's very...wow."


"White." Sam amends. "That, is all...very...white."

"You think he's homesick?" Dean's eyes are starting to hurt, what with the combination of skylight, bright day and Castiel's idea of decor. White walls, white bed frame, white bedding, white rugs on the white painted floor, white bookcase filled with books covered in white leather, white comforter, white dresser...he might be going blind.

"Maybe he just...likes things clean."

They close the door slowly and go about their separate business.

The next day Castiel finds a white bear with silver wings and a halo on his bed.

Dean will spend the rest of his life denying the accusation that he bought it.

Google Thyself

Dean sits in the trailer everyone in this bizarre place seems to think is his, and he googles himself. Or rather, he googles the actor who plays...He shakes his head, too damn confusing. First he's a book and now this? What's next, action figures?

One hour later he's watched clips of 'My Bloody Valentine' and 'Ten Inch Hero'.

He honestly doesn't know what to say, and he's a little afraid of his own hair now, which is unsettling. Plus it's weird to watch a movie when you know full well that you are the killer.

He goes through a few more searches.

'Devour' weirds him out because he's watching himself have sex, only he's younger and he's not himself. It also makes him out to be the son of Satan, which is pretty ironic.

Another foray into google follows.

He's pretty sure that 'House of Wax' is the worst thing he's ever seen, in that watching his brother getting peeled apart after being scalded is too horrifying to watch. He really hopes nothing that bad happened to him in the pit in any case.

He's starting to wonder if this guy has ever been in anything good.

He goes through the Supernatural Imdb page and searches for a couple of people who look familiar.

Turns out his Dad was in some God awful Dr. Sexy M.D rip-off, the guy who plays Chuck is in something as a chronic nympho and Crowley was in something about space cowboys.

He really wishes he'd been abducted by fairies again, because that was less disturbing.

And why was the Trickster, freaking Gabriel of all people in some war thing where he got to be an awesome soldier? If it wouldn't physically hurt him to admit it Dean would have said he was jealous. Though he really wishes he hadn't watched that clip of 'Open Water 2' there were parts of the little archangel he'd never wanted to see, especially not underwater.

He's almost sick of looking at this stuff, but he stumbles upon some clips from the show, and there's nothing weirder than watching moments from your life in a third person perspective. He can't look away.

Their Mom dying, something he can barely remember.

His Dad dying.

Sam dying.

His own death.

There are good things in there too, but it's the bad he can't take his eyes away from, all the things he can remember, but presented with crystal clear audio and instant recall.

There's footage of Hell and Heaven and people he's long since forgotten about, people he saved.

There's a video of his first meeting with Castiel.

He clicks back to imdb and looks the guy up.

Well that's not a name.

He's not one to talk, because the guy who plays him also sounds ridiculous – but seriously, that is NOT a name. He scrolls through his credits.

"Girl, Interrupted" reminds him too much of the future version of Castiel. "Stonehenge Apocalypse" is just plain bad. He follows a few more links.

After watching the whole of 'Karla' he's pretty sure he can't look Cas in the eye ever again.

It takes three weeks for him to stop jumping whenever the angel appears.

War Is Not A Game

"They're attack on the left flank!" Gabriel's voice is hoarse, shouting over the sounds of battle and the screams of the dying.

"We don't have the troops to cover it, get me a specific location." Castiel shouts back, knowing their resources are dwindling every second, that they are losing territory, losing warriors.

"Cover me, take point." Gabriel really wishes he was better at combat, that he hadn't fled from every fight he was presented with. Perhaps it would have helped.

"I've got it...good luck brother." Castiel exchanged glances with the archangel.

"And to you Castiel." He replies grimly.

"Dude!" Dean throws on the lights and glowers at the two angels crouched in front of the TV. "It is three am, turn it off or quit yelling."

Neither man looks up from Call of Duty.