Supernatural: Gabriel drabbles
Collection of the drabbles I did for the Archangel's feast day over on the spn_gabriel comm.
For cageyklio
"Trick or treat, Sam." Gabriel has a grin that threatens to split his face in half.
Sam opens and closes his mouth, shakes his head, and goes back to his laptop. "I don't do Halloween, Gabriel. You know that."
The laptop shuts almost on Sam's hands, and Gabriel straddles Sam's lap before Sam can protest. Gabriel's grin morphs into a smirk. "Trick or treat, Sam," he repeats and leans down. "Oh, and I don't think your brother'll be too pleased if you choose 'trick.' Just a heads-up."
Sam shakes his head. "Treat," he says as his hands settle on Gabriel's waist.
The archangel's smirk turns dirty. "Good choice."
For wynter_sorrow
Dean almost doesn't see him, there in the corner with the rest of the musicians. This kind of bar isn't Dean's usual place (his usual place being the kind where he can shoot some pool and hustle gas money) but Sam insisted that they have some variety so Castiel doesn't get the impression that there's only the one kind of bar in the world. Castiel mentions that he isn't nearly as oblivious as the brothers seem to think (except for some things) but Sam directs Dean to a hole in the wall near the hotel and here they are.
The trumpeter starts in on a swinging solo as Team Free Will gets their first round, and Castiel almost chokes on his beer as he turns to stare at the musicians. Dean raises an eyebrow but looks in the same direction, because hey. Demons could be anywhere. Sam squints a little, blinks a few times. "Dude, is that Gabriel?"
Dean looks twice, and yeah, that's the archangel-turned-Trickster, playing the trumpet like he hasn't a care in the world. "Huh. Not bad."
Castiel just looks at him. "He's an angel. Of course he is skilled."
Gabriel looks up as a sax player joins in and waggles his eyebrows as he draws his own playing back from the spotlight. A couple of other patrons cross the floor in front of the Winchesters and Castiel, blocking their view. When they can see the band again, Gabriel is gone.
For owleyes_arisen
"Well," Gabriel says with a wider grin than should physically be possible. "Isn't this an interesting development."
Castiel glares and tries to make himself seem smaller, which was already difficult as an angel, and near impossible now that he's been upgraded to archangel. Apparently helping to avert an untimely apocalypse while being quite possibly the least powerful angel around warranted a shift of responsibilities and forms. "Gabriel."
"Aw, c'mon, baby bro." Gabriel slings an arm around him, and Castiel is a little jealous of the fact that he seems so comfortable in his own vessel whereas Castiel thinks he might accidentally break his. "Lighten up. The Apocalypse is over, you got bumped up to arch, and you bagged yourself a righteous man. It's a good day."
"It is not... comfortable," Castiel admits and wonders if he will be smote for speaking ill of such an honor.
"Takes getting used to. Probably doesn't help that you got bumped up while you're in a vessel. That's first on the list of things you gotta learn, Castiel- getting comfortable in your own skin."
Castiel blinks at him. "You're going to help me with this?"
"'Course! Unless you prefer learning all this from Raphael, and he's kind of a... let's not go there." Gabriel claps his hands together. "Right, getting used to it first, flaming sword practice later."
"...what?" Castiel can't have heard that right; he did understand archangels have flaming swords but-
"You heard that right," Gabriel confirms and his impossible grin stretches even wider. "Practice. With flaming swords. Oh, what fun we shall have."
for njoyingnsanity
They pretend everything is fine now. The Adversary is locked away in Hell for the foreseeable future along with those who had chosen to follow him down, Heaven is back to being pure and holy and filled with those who loved their Father. The names of the Fallen go unspoken, as though by simply not talking about them they can be struck from record, from memory.
"It's like you want to pretend they weren't our brothers," Gabriel says to Michael one day.
"They are no longer," Michael responds coolly, a hint of warning in his tone for his brother to drop it.
Gabriel never could take a hint. "But they were, once. You and Raphael and me and Mornins-"
"Don't say his name," Michael snaps and the sky darkens, the hum of his power thick in the air.
"We saw our Father," Gabriel goes on as though he is unafraid of the greatest of Heaven's warriors. He has no reason to fear his brother, at least he thought he didn't. The wars changed Michael and Raphael, changed everybody. Gabriel thinks he alone remained the same, he alone remembers how Heaven used to be. "The four of us. You can't pretend-"
"Gabriel, make your point," Michael cuts him off and Gabriel is angry now. Michael is nothing like the older brother who the Morningstar idolized and taught Raphael of healing and talked for long hours with Gabriel of inconsequential things.
"I wonder what Father would say," Gabriel says in a hard tone.
"When He returns, you can ask Him," Michael snaps and disappears.
Their Father is missing, the Morningstar Fell, and Heaven is not what it once was. Gabriel looks around. He sees Anael looking too longingly at the Earth and Uriel obsessing more the letter of Heaven's law than the spirit behind it and Castiel sparring as though he expects another war. He sees in Zachariah the seeds of pride and a ruthlessness where there was not before in Raphael.
"This is not home," Gabriel says to no one, and slips away.
Aaand that was the last of them. I was a little disappointed when no one took my prompt, but alas. Can't always get what we want.
For cageyklio
"Trick or treat, Sam." Gabriel has a grin that threatens to split his face in half.
Sam opens and closes his mouth, shakes his head, and goes back to his laptop. "I don't do Halloween, Gabriel. You know that."
The laptop shuts almost on Sam's hands, and Gabriel straddles Sam's lap before Sam can protest. Gabriel's grin morphs into a smirk. "Trick or treat, Sam," he repeats and leans down. "Oh, and I don't think your brother'll be too pleased if you choose 'trick.' Just a heads-up."
Sam shakes his head. "Treat," he says as his hands settle on Gabriel's waist.
The archangel's smirk turns dirty. "Good choice."
For wynter_sorrow
Dean almost doesn't see him, there in the corner with the rest of the musicians. This kind of bar isn't Dean's usual place (his usual place being the kind where he can shoot some pool and hustle gas money) but Sam insisted that they have some variety so Castiel doesn't get the impression that there's only the one kind of bar in the world. Castiel mentions that he isn't nearly as oblivious as the brothers seem to think (except for some things) but Sam directs Dean to a hole in the wall near the hotel and here they are.
The trumpeter starts in on a swinging solo as Team Free Will gets their first round, and Castiel almost chokes on his beer as he turns to stare at the musicians. Dean raises an eyebrow but looks in the same direction, because hey. Demons could be anywhere. Sam squints a little, blinks a few times. "Dude, is that Gabriel?"
Dean looks twice, and yeah, that's the archangel-turned-Trickster, playing the trumpet like he hasn't a care in the world. "Huh. Not bad."
Castiel just looks at him. "He's an angel. Of course he is skilled."
Gabriel looks up as a sax player joins in and waggles his eyebrows as he draws his own playing back from the spotlight. A couple of other patrons cross the floor in front of the Winchesters and Castiel, blocking their view. When they can see the band again, Gabriel is gone.
For owleyes_arisen
"Well," Gabriel says with a wider grin than should physically be possible. "Isn't this an interesting development."
Castiel glares and tries to make himself seem smaller, which was already difficult as an angel, and near impossible now that he's been upgraded to archangel. Apparently helping to avert an untimely apocalypse while being quite possibly the least powerful angel around warranted a shift of responsibilities and forms. "Gabriel."
"Aw, c'mon, baby bro." Gabriel slings an arm around him, and Castiel is a little jealous of the fact that he seems so comfortable in his own vessel whereas Castiel thinks he might accidentally break his. "Lighten up. The Apocalypse is over, you got bumped up to arch, and you bagged yourself a righteous man. It's a good day."
"It is not... comfortable," Castiel admits and wonders if he will be smote for speaking ill of such an honor.
"Takes getting used to. Probably doesn't help that you got bumped up while you're in a vessel. That's first on the list of things you gotta learn, Castiel- getting comfortable in your own skin."
Castiel blinks at him. "You're going to help me with this?"
"'Course! Unless you prefer learning all this from Raphael, and he's kind of a... let's not go there." Gabriel claps his hands together. "Right, getting used to it first, flaming sword practice later."
"...what?" Castiel can't have heard that right; he did understand archangels have flaming swords but-
"You heard that right," Gabriel confirms and his impossible grin stretches even wider. "Practice. With flaming swords. Oh, what fun we shall have."
for njoyingnsanity
They pretend everything is fine now. The Adversary is locked away in Hell for the foreseeable future along with those who had chosen to follow him down, Heaven is back to being pure and holy and filled with those who loved their Father. The names of the Fallen go unspoken, as though by simply not talking about them they can be struck from record, from memory.
"It's like you want to pretend they weren't our brothers," Gabriel says to Michael one day.
"They are no longer," Michael responds coolly, a hint of warning in his tone for his brother to drop it.
Gabriel never could take a hint. "But they were, once. You and Raphael and me and Mornins-"
"Don't say his name," Michael snaps and the sky darkens, the hum of his power thick in the air.
"We saw our Father," Gabriel goes on as though he is unafraid of the greatest of Heaven's warriors. He has no reason to fear his brother, at least he thought he didn't. The wars changed Michael and Raphael, changed everybody. Gabriel thinks he alone remained the same, he alone remembers how Heaven used to be. "The four of us. You can't pretend-"
"Gabriel, make your point," Michael cuts him off and Gabriel is angry now. Michael is nothing like the older brother who the Morningstar idolized and taught Raphael of healing and talked for long hours with Gabriel of inconsequential things.
"I wonder what Father would say," Gabriel says in a hard tone.
"When He returns, you can ask Him," Michael snaps and disappears.
Their Father is missing, the Morningstar Fell, and Heaven is not what it once was. Gabriel looks around. He sees Anael looking too longingly at the Earth and Uriel obsessing more the letter of Heaven's law than the spirit behind it and Castiel sparring as though he expects another war. He sees in Zachariah the seeds of pride and a ruthlessness where there was not before in Raphael.
"This is not home," Gabriel says to no one, and slips away.
Aaand that was the last of them. I was a little disappointed when no one took my prompt, but alas. Can't always get what we want.