Light filters in through the window, through Sam's eyelashes, and out of a dream of candy and kissing he wakes reluctantly. The bed's empty, which- really, he thinks, he should've expected. Last night was too impossible to be true.

And just as he's deciding this, deciding to shake off what he thought happened and get ready to face the day, he hears footsteps plodding towards his room and then Gabriel's impish grin pops in through the doorway, two cups of steaming coffee in his hands. "Morning, Samsquatch."

A smile splits Sam's face. "So it wasn't a dream."

Gabriel comes to sit on the edge of the bed and hands Sam a cup. "Those the kind of dreams you've been having while I've been dead?" he smirks over the rim of his mug.

"You weren't dead." Sam leans back against the headboard of his bed. "Which would've been nice to know, by the way."

"I think I proved it to you last night." Eyes slanted, he leans forward smelling of sugar and coconut and Sam's just bending his head down to level with his when he hears the front door swing open and the two of them tumble off the bed in surprise, twin coffee stains spreading across the sheets.

"Hide," Sam says in a whisper, gathering up the sheets and shoving the angel off of him.

"What?"

"It's Dean, just-" His hair swings as he looks from side to side frantically. "Hide in the closet."

"I thought that was your job."

"Gabriel-" he starts, but Gabriel's already obliging with a smirk, sliding across the room to duck behind the hinged door on the opposite wall. While Sam's pulling himself up from the floor, he mouths Sorry through the slight opening of the closet. Sam scrambles into a standing position just as Dean pokes his head in through the bedroom door.

"Hey, Dean," he chokes out in what he hopes is a calm voice. "What's up bro?"

Giving him an odd look, Dean holds up a bag of bagels. "I got breakfast."

"Cool," Sam squeaks, kicking a lollipop stick he's just spotted on the floor under the bed. "Bagels. Awesome. Gotta love bagels."

"Yeah…" Dean squints at him. "You feelin' okay?"

"I feel fantastic." Too much, he thinks, but it's true, actually. Since Gabriel had arrived at the front door of the bunker last night all the hitching in his breathing, the coughing, the aching in his bones brought on from whatever the trials were doing to him had gone down.

"Okay," Dean shrugs, heading back into the kitchen. Once he's turned around, Sam huffs out a sigh of relief and his eyes flick to the closet. Just as he's starting to wonder if Gabriel will be able to sneak out through angel-means, Dean calls back, "Oh, and tell your boyfriend to stop leaving his Tootsie Roll wrappers on the counter."