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“Excuuuse me.”
The hunters halted mid-stride in the dim fluorescent lighting of the vacant parking garage. Gabriel caught a brief view of the bitter glance the obnoxious older Winchester threw at his lanky brother before turning toward his voice.
"What the hell do you want?”
Gabriel took a few steps out of the shadows until the weak glare of the flickering overhead lights fell over his shoulders. “Whaddaya call that little stunt you pulled back there, hm?”
"Keeping an entire town safe,” Sam rebuffed, palming his shotgun at his side.
“Your technique could use a little finesse.”
Dean glowered at him. “You have no right to call us out for anything that happened back there. I didn’t see you swooping in to save the day.”
Rolling his eyes at the excessively gruff tone, Gabriel folded his arms across his chest. “That’s the exact opposite of the point. Your insight astounds me,” he commented dryly.
”You wanna clear things up for me, then?” Dean gestured frustratedly. “Because I’m hungry, tired, and I smell like demon piss. It would be fantastic if we didn’t have to spend precious time dancing around your little fun-house carousel of a point.”
Such a drama queen. “Fine,” Gabriel sneered. “The crux is this. You,” he jabbed a finger at Sam, “almost died. And you,” another accusing finger pointed at Dean, “nearly killed three civilians. What’s that line again - saving people, hunting things? You just about got it the wrong way ‘round that time, boys.”
Sam’s face just tightened, but Dean snarled. “You think I don’t know that? Listen, bud, I’m runnin’ short on patience-“
“Shut it,” Gabriel hissed, his golden eyes flashing with irritation. “This is not about things being all flowery and convenient for you. The point is that you won’t always have an angel at your back when things go to shit. You humans are ridiculously fragile, and I’d appreciate you being a little less free ‘n’ easy with the mayhem you two sledgehammers tend to leave in your cynical wake.”
“Y’know what, Gabe, you can go fu-”
Gabriel flung his hands out, and both Winchesters slammed back against the two nearest support columns with a force that sounded like it cracked the concrete. Dean’s retort petered out with a wheezing exhale. Served him right, the little shit.
“I am getting tired of your attitude,” Gabriel growled. His fingers flexed as he clamped a wide, flat pressure around the pair’s ribcages like a band of invisible steel, bolting them to their respective pillars. A surly grunt and a struggling gasp accompanied the clatter of a shotgun dropping to the floor.
"I can see you really care about our ‘fragility,’” Dean croaked. “Warms my heart.”
Gabriel’s face remained hard and he didn’t drop his outstretched hands, but he silently eased off the pressure from painful to merely uncomfortable. “Sorry,” he said, without sounding remotely so, “I assumed violence was your Love Language.”
“And what’s yours? Antagonism?”
He tweaked his fingers in annoyance, pinching in the nonexistent steel bands around the bottom of the hunters’ chests. Dean winced. Sam yelped.
A slow blink transitioned Gabriel’s focus to the younger hunter. “Oh.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Oh, that’s too good.”
Dean glanced over at his brother with one of those anger-flavored expressions that Gabriel supposed was meant to pass for concern. “Sammy?”
Sam was busy trying to fight off a particularly amusing look of panic. “We- we get it, Gabriel. We’ll be more careful, promise.”
Too, too good. “Exactly how big a fool do you take me for? A Winchester promise,” he scoffed while manipulating the pressure to ripple up Sam’s ribcage. “Forgive me if I don’t take that at face value.”
“Aaa-AH!”
“Hey! Don’t you dare hurt him, you giant celestial dick!”
That kid was going to rupture something in his throat if he didn’t ease up on the I’m a badass, I swear voice. “Ah, I’m just prodding him around a bit. Jealous?” Gabriel twitched a finger at Dean, goosing his ribs more purposefully. The hunter flinched. Perfect.
“Oh, boys, boys, boys,” Gabriel smirked. “This just got way more fun.”
—-
Shit. If that dickwad hurt Sammy, Dean was going to send his feathered ass on an express train to… to wherever angels went when they got toasted. Regardless of whether or not the guy had actually helped them out a few cases ago. He’d kill him. He’d figure out how. He’d-
“Jealous?”
Gah! What the hell was that? A poke, seriously? Poking was for aggravating little brothers in the back seat. But then again, Gabe had the temperament of a four-year-old, so maybe he shouldn’t be surprised.
The invisible clamp around his chest suddenly vanished, but Dean remained firmly pinned to the concrete pillar. He strained defiantly against the heavy force. Castiel had mojoed him once or twice before, but that usually felt like his brain signals for movement just got switched off. This was like being encased in stone; all potential for bodily struggle was left intact, but the immutable force was far too powerful for mere human muscle to overcome. Leave it to a pretentious archangel to make an unpleasant experience even more frustrating.
"You alright, Sammy?” He looked over at the pillar to his left (apparently he could at least move his head) to where Sam– Sam was laughing. Not out loud, but Dean had watched him his entire life and knew whenever he was attempting to hide it - usually trying to deny Dean the satisfaction of knowing a particular witticism had hit the right nerve. Sam’s chin was dipping toward his chest, his lower lip pulled between his teeth, the tiniest telltale stutter in his diaphragm.
“He’s just fine - aren’t you, kiddo? Our Sasquatch here is just a bit ticklish, is all.”
“G-Gabriel… s-s-sssstop…”
“And miss out on a two-for-one Big Bad Bros special? Don’t think so, kid.”
Alright, this is messed up. Dean was about to give his biting opinion on bad-touching from creeper angels, but a sudden tingling in his chest brought the sentiment to a dead stop halfway up his throat. It was an irritant, like the tag of his shirt poking him the wrong way. But it was on his skin, under his skin, inside his bones.
“What the hell, man?” he grimaced, trying to figure out how to scratch an itch from the inside with the added complication of immobility. He glanced over at Sam again, who by this point was officially giggling. Dean hadn’t heard him make that sound for years. Probably not since… not since that stupid wrestling match a while back in Ohio. Which, even though they didn’t know it at the time, had actually been Gabriel’s fault. Figures.
“What’s the matter, Dean-o? Afraid of letting loose a little?”
The sensation hiked up to an insistent buzz, and Dean bit back a surprised whine as it permeated through his ribcage. And dammit, it tickled.
“Plehehehease, Gabriel, stohohop!” Sam giggled.
“Oh, my dear Sammich. If you’re already pleading, I’d hate to see your condition by the time we’re done.” The archangel tilted his head thoughtfully. “Actually, I dowant to see. Maybe it’ll force into your thick heads how brittle you actually are. How all it takes is the right application of a little pressure for you to shatter.”
"A- a little sadistic, don’t you think?” Dean’s lungs quavered with the effort of keeping himself in check. That damn buzzing was vibrating across his ribs and tingling between his shirt and skin, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out.
“Sadistic?” Gabriel snorted. “No. …Okay, well, maybe a little. But just think: I’m one of the good guys -” Yeah, that’s up for debate, Dean wanted to say, but he didn’t trust his voice not to crack - “And this is just a little tickling. Surely you see the problem should you be caught in a… less benevolent situation.”
“S-screhehew you.” Dammit. Dean tilted his head back against the pillar and stared up at the gloomy gray ceiling of the parking garage, silently cursing the smile infringing on his face.
Gabriel cocked an eyebrow. “So many promises, so little follow-through.”
—-
Oh God oh God oh God. Sam could never stand being tickled. Not when they were kids, not when Dean still jumped him every once in a while, and definitely not when he was being assaulted by invisible archangel mojo.
The prickling sensation across his ribs had been escalating from the moment the firm, rippling pressure dissipated. He’d hoped that when Gabriel turned his attention to Dean, it would let up, but that had been wishful thinking. It settled down between his bones, flitting in the spaces and constantly teasing at every sensitive spot it found. And once he started giggling, there was no stopping.
“Plehehehease, Gabriel, stohohop!” But apparently the word “stop” was useless. The archangel’s indication that this wouldn’t be stopping anytime soon somehow made things worse.
Now it was spreading, blooming further back around his ribcage and crawling down his vulnerable sides. Holy shit, it tickled so bad. He dug his fingernails into his palms - some little part of his consciousness was dimly surprised he could still do that - but it provided little distraction. He couldn’t stop giggling.
“How’s it feel, Sammy-boy? You’re a bit more sensitive than your brother, I gather. How sweet.”
“Gahahahabriel, ple- pleeheehee- AAAH!” Sam’s eyes snapped wide open when the sensation suddenly leapt down to invade his knees with a vengeance. It sparked from inside his joints, like one of those plasma globes from a novelty shop, with flickering tendrils that zapped out along his skin and jolted at his kneecaps. He shrieked. “NONONO DOHOHOHON’T!”
“Oh, the knees are bad, huh? Hmm. Let’s see if we can get Mr. Tough Guy over here to squeal like you.”
—-
The incessant buzz that had lodged itself between Dean’s ribs was getting more creative, and little huffs of laughter were starting to sneak out with each breath. He heard Sam’s laughter suddenly make a familiar jump, and before Gabriel even said anything, he knew what target had been hit.
Knees, crap. Dean knew his knees weren’t as bad as Sam’s, but they were by no means immune, and he’d rather not be reduced to a giggling child by weirdo angel mojo, thank you very much. But Gabriel glanced his way, and the sensation started oozing down his torso, presumably making its way toward its new destination.
“Shihihihihit!” Dean gritted his teeth against his laughter as it crept over his stomach, morphing from a buzzing to a fluttering tickle that skittered across his skin. “Quihihit it, you prihihihihick!”
“You know, I could just as easily crush and re-form you over and over. Would you prefer that?”
There were several choice words Dean wanted to throw back at that, but then the tickling was slithering lower and oh shit no no no NO-
—-
Gabriel shifted his weight back in smug satisfaction as he watched the legendary Winchesters crumble. He directed another pulse into Dean’s hips and grinned at the screeching cackle that resulted. Sam had been flushed pink for the last several minutes, squealing and giggling helplessly. Time to wrap things up, preferably with a bit of a bang. Always more fun that way.
He expanded his focus, unfurling streamers of power from all the places it currently targeted. A gratifying chorus of shrieking laughter and desperate pleading and colorful objections echoed throughout the floor of the parking structure.
“Seeing things my way yet?” he called.
No coherent answer came. Right, they probably needed to breathe a little first. Gabriel pulled back until he left only a little splatter of energy sparkling over the hunters’ bellies. He waited a moment for the laughter to die down to manageable levels before asking again.
“I said, seeing things my way?”
Sam forced through his waning giggles first. “Yes! Yehehes, we do, plehehease…”
“You too, huggybear.”
Dean glared up at him. Gabriel arched an eyebrow warningly and let the ebbing tickle flare again, and the hunter choked out a reluctant laugh.
“Yeah, yeah we get it. Asshole,” he muttered.
Gabriel abruptly released them both.
The brothers stumbled forward until they reoriented themselves to having control over their limbs. Sam shook out his legs and paced out a little circle while rubbing at his sides. Dean just dropped into a crouch with his arms wrapped tightly around himself and avoided all eye contact until he could breathe steadily again.
“You two just… be more careful, okay?” Gabriel said. “You fracture easily and I don’t like having to glue you back together.”
Sam managed a rueful chuckle. “Watch it. That almost sounds like you care.”
“Shut up.”
Gabriel shifted out of their plane before anything else could be said. But he watched until the hunters made it safely to their car before smiling to himself and taking flight.