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This hunt was frustrating—Hell—when were they not, but killing the Demon you thought was responsible only to find out they had a partner that had apparently dropped off the face of the Earth, that was beyond irritating. And if the expressions and general attitudes of everyone in the bunker was something to go by, the feeling was very mutual. You had nothing against witchcraft, hell, you dabbled in it many times, but the woman Sam had traded for the special tracking spell had something about her that struck you in all the wrong ways. It was the best option—it was the only option—you knew that, so, of course, you were gathering the ingredients as efficiently as possible, the spell in your pocket with the scribbled translation next to the original language you had never seen before, doing your best to push down the gnawing instinct in your gut.
“Sure this’ll work Dean-o,” Gabriel questioned with a raised eyebrow as Dean rolled his eyes in response and handed you a bag of some dried herb as they both looked hesitantly down where you and Sam were crouched around a bowl on the bunker floor, surrounded by sigils.
“Sam said it seemed legit and from what I can tell, It is but I’m not exactly fluent in whatever language this is,” you sighed slightly in frustration at the foreign instruction written on the page in your hand.
“Wouldn’t be the first time a Witch screwed us over,” Sam interjected, standing up as he placed the last ingredient in the bowl, “But it’s kind of the best choice we’ve got,” Dean sighed and Gabriel resigned to lean against the far wall with a nearly mocking expression.
“Alright,” you clapped your hands and moved slightly away from the bowl, “Let’s get this show on the road.”
“How exactly does this work, no map, no pendulum,” Dean asked, recalling a previous tracking spell Bobby had done as he glanced at Cas who was silently watching the events unfold with an unreadable expression.
“The knowledge you seek, through cloud or ink,” You recite from the spell, “So I guess either paper or the smoke from the ritual,” Dean gave an understanding nod and sighed as you handed the paper to Sam. Spells were usually your thing but the witch had spoken and, you assumed explained the spell to him, to it was an easy decision to have him perform the spell. You pushed up the sleeves of your sweater and moved closer to the wall where Gabriel stood and Dean backed away from Sam to stand by Cas as the odd composition of foreign sounds left his lips. It wasn’t nearly as smooth as his Latin or your Enochian but he managed it better than you or Dean could read it and the ingredients began to shift and simmer, the murky brown mixture turning a deep red, a color slightly brighter than blood as Sam finished the spell. You felt a creeping ich up your right arm and absentmindedly scratched it as you watched the red mixture rise from the bowl and twist itself like a whirlpool before splashing back into the bowl.
“What the hell,” Dean huffed as all of you moved to peer into the bowl at the now still and mousy liquid. For a moment all five of you crowded around and simply stared down at the bowl with oddly similar expressions of frustration and confusion.
“Sam,” Castiel suddenly spoke up in his characteristic rather monotone voice. Before he could finish his thought Sam was already handing Cas the spell and he examined it with a furrowed brow, “I believe there’s been a mistake.”
“No shit Sherlock,” Dean scoffed, earning an annoyed glare from Cas that seemed to quickly change Dean’s expression to one of guilt. You nearly laughed—the dynamic between them had very clearly changed the last few weeks, though, they were still pretending you and Sam and the rest of the world didn’t notice. Your sleeve had fallen down to just below your wrists again but you were sure there were nail marks from your relentless scratching. That damn ich just wouldn’t go away. Gabriel let out a puff of air indignantly and you glanced his way briefly as he pulled at the sleeve of his leather jacket.
“Me and Sam checked the ingredients like four times,” you crossed your arms and looked to Cas who had returned his eyes to the paper.
“No, this line here,” he pointed at the text and held it slightly away from his as you walked over to look at it, “The translation says what your soul desires.”
“Right,” Sam made his way over to the two of you now, looking down at the paper, “The spell tracks what you want, in our case the demon.”
“Not exactly,” Cas corrected and your face contorted into a silent ‘what do you mean’ as you glanced up at him, “this word,” his finger found a series of symbols near the middle of the spell, “It doesn’t really mean desire it means made for and who specifically, not what.” A chuckle sounded from behind the three of you and you turned with everyone to look at Gabriel.
“A soulmate?” He asked with another laugh.
“It’s a damn soulmate spell,” Dean parroted as your confusion only grew.
“But the spell didn’t even do anything,” you gestured with a frustrated sigh at the useless murky water beside you, “it said smoke or ink and there was neither,” you threw your hands up in defeat but Sam’s face caught your eye. He wasn’t looking at the paper anymore but at Dean. You followed his gaze to Dean’s arm, one across his chest and the other hanging loosely by his side with an unfamiliar line of black symbols on his forearm.
“Dean, what’s on your arm,” Sam questioned as soon as your eyes found it. Dean’s face twisted in acknowledgment, confusion, and then to worry in only a few seconds as he eventually held out his arm for all of you to see.
“What the hell,” he breathed out and you hurried to examine it as Castiel did the same, taking his wrist firmly in his hand.
“It’s Enochian,” you realized.
“It’s my name,” Castiel’s voice was a tiny bit lighter than usual in his surprise.
“Well, How the fuck did I get Cas’s name on my arm,” Dean asks indignantly glancing at everyone whose eyes were fixed to the writing. A hearty laugh began from behind you and all except for Castiel, who kept his attention on Dean’s arm, turned to see Gabriel santering up from the wall with a wide smile on his face as he laughed. Dean was glaring at him as if to burn a hole through his head but Gabriel continued to grin at him.
“It’s a soulmate spell,” He repeated, drawing out each word and placing a needed emphasis in the word soulmate. Dean furrowed his brow but in moments his eyes widened and his jaw slacked.
“Cas, Cas isn’t,” Dean stuttered, glancing to Cas in hopes of assistance.
“Yes,” Cas seemed to catch on, pulling his eyes from Dean and continuing in a voice you had only heard before when he tried to speak to a witness as a fake FBI agent, “Dean and I are not mated.” That particular use of words made Gabriel laugh again and two smiles reluctantly made their way onto yours and Sam’s faces. You looked at Cas who was trying so hard to remain stoic and firm and back to Dean who wore a very obvious ‘Deer in the headlights’ expression. Finally, a laugh escaped your lips, followed by a sigh that gained the other’s attention.
“I haven’t said anything cause ya’ll seemed like you wanted to keep it to yourselves but we aren’t blind,” you glanced at Sam to indicate the ‘We’ you were referring to and Dean’s eyes shot over to Sam.
“And your room isn’t exactly sound proof, Dean,” Sam added, making you laugh again as Dean resigned to glare at the two of you, but he made no further attempts to deny it, instead he found himself migrating closer to Cas as his fingers still traced the letters on his arm.
“Sam, there appears to be something on your arm as well,” Castiel pointed out and all eyes followed suit.
“What the hell,” you said under your breath as you took Sam’s arm in your hand, examining the ink colored cloud that was moving within itself along his forearm.
“Who’s your soulmate, Sammy? A shapeless black glob?” Gabriel offered. It was Sam’s turn to glare now. You stepped back from Sam as everyone else moved in closer to look. You absentmindedly scratched at your arm again as you thought before you suddenly froze with realization. Your eyes widened as you looked down at your arm, still covered by your sweater and slowly moved the sleeve up to reveal a similar black mark to Dean’s. It was Enochian and as you mentally went over the letters, your eyes widened even further as a sort of panic set in. Ged-Un-Pa-Don-Gon-Graph,Ur—G-A-B-R-I-E-L—holy shit. You quickly pulled the sleeve of your shirt back down as your eyes gravitated to the archangel huddled around Sam. You watched his hand run through his light brown hair, almost frozen. Your feelings for him weren’t exactly a secret, well, they were to him but Sam had mentioned it to you before and there was no way Cas didn’t know. Dean, you weren’t so sure but that didn’t matter now that you had a declaration of love tattooed on your fucking arm.
“(Y/N),” Dean called your name, snapping you from your thoughts and you quickly made your way over to them to examine Sam’s arm, unfortunately, having to squeeze in very close to Gabriel in order to get a proper look. You watched the cloud of ink swirl up and down on Sam’s forearm, moving as if it was cream freshly poured into a cup of coffee. You focused on it, trying to untangle your thoughts, despite being painfully aware of Gabriel’s leather-clad shoulder pressed firmly against yours. The cloud of ink shrunk and darkened as it pulled into itself before expanding again, mimicking the beat of a heart for a moment as you continued to stare pensively at the ink cloud—ink cloud—wait. The knowledge you seek, through cloud or ink, you thought to yourself.
“The knowledge you seek, through cloud or ink,” you repeated your thoughts, looking up at the others with wide eyes at your realization, “Your marks appear to be ink,” you gestured to Dean and Cas who looked at you with confusion, “and yours Sam,” you placed a hand under his arm, “It looks like an ink cloud. The spell revealed ‘knowledge you seek’,” releasing his arm, you put your last few words in air quotes, “I guess that means your soulmate is undetermined.” Dean hummed at your explanation. As you were speaking you felt the pressure on your shoulder lift and briefly glanced at Gabriel who was silently making his way back to the wall, fidgeting with his arm.
“What about you,” Sam questioned.
“What about me,” your confused expression very quickly faded to one of panic as you realized what he meant, “Oh, I um,” you set your jaw and breathed deeply to regain your composure, making sure no one noticed as you stumbled, “My arm looks the same as yours Sam,” you told them but offered no evidence, keeping your clothed arm firmly by your side but everyone nodded.
“How about you, feathers,” Dean had apparently noticed Gabriel’s retreat as well and everyone turned to look at him, anticipating an answer. You noted how he pulled on the edge of his jacket for half a second before folding his arms across his chest.
“Clean as a whistle,” He quipped, leaning slightly farther into the wall, “Guess your spell doesn’t have an archangel clause,” He smirked at them and you couldn’t help the sinking feeling in your heart. Of course, he didn’t have a soulmate or at least a human one. You briefly ran a finger over your forearm. You had thought for a second that maybe he did have your name on his arm, after all, that’s how soulmates were supposed to work right? They came and pairs? But your mind fell to the cloud of ink on Sam’s arm. Maybe that’s how they work after all—some have matching pairs, some are undetermined, some don’t have soulmates, and some—you—have something utterly one-sided.
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You were glad the bunker was always slightly cold, as you pulled on your sweater before heading down the hall. It had been a few days and the bunker had a very strange mixture of tension and relief in the air. None of you were any closer to finding the demon and you had to wear long sleeves for Chuck knows how long—not to mention that you were avoiding Gabriel like the plague—but finding Dean and Cas in the war room, fingers intertwined, lifted your spirits. Dean had blushed and rolled his eyes at your shit-eating grin but kept his hand firmly secured with Cas’s. You were glad they were finally out in the open. It had taken them long enough to get together and they seemed happier now to not have to walk on eggshells around each other. Sam was happy for them too and up to his ears in research, as were you.
“They’re pretty adorable,” you laughed, as you passed them and walked over to Sam who was huddled over a book in the library. You took your place opposite him and reopened the worn book you had been reading, carefully avoiding the cover you weren’t sure what was made of.
“Yeah,” Sam agreed, looking up at you with a gentle smile, “It’s good to see Dean happy,” you hummed in agreement, “both of them,” Sam tacked on. You opened your mouth to say something but Gabriel’s voice cut you off.
“Need any help,” He chimed, swaggering up to stand beside you.
“No,” you quickly answered, still looking down at your book, “I think Cas was working on something though, maybe he needs a hand,” You finally glanced up at him very briefly, but long enough to see his slightly hurt expression as he nodded and left in the direction of the war room.
“You and Gabriel fighting again?” Sam questioned. Gabriel, you had a habit of getting into petty squabbles. Usually over some movie related argument or ‘who ate the last cookie’ but nothing serious and nothing that ever ended in anything but making up with one of you bringing the other sweets as an apology, “No, just,” you trailed off as you looked up at Sam. A sigh escaped your lips, leaning back in your chair and Sam leaned slightly forward, worry etched onto his face.
“What’s going on (Y/N)” He asked gently and you met his gaze for a second before rubbing a hand over your face.
“Alright,” you placed your arm on the table, still covered in your sweater grey sleeve, “I swear if you tell anyone about this, I will shiv you,” you threatened and he raised his hands in surrender as a small smile played on his lips, “Ok,” you pulled the sleeve of your sweater up, revealing the intricate black Enochian lettering on your forearm. His eyebrows raised in surprise as he moved to look at the letters closer.
“Enochian,” He half whispered to himself before looking up at you questioningly, “Gabe?” you nodded and he leaned back in his chair, allowing you to pull your arm back and slide your sleeve back down over it.
“But Gabriel said he didn’t have a mark,” Sam reasoned, confusion and thought twisting his expression.
“I realize that Sam,” sarcasm wove its way into your tone as you glared at him, “But it doesn’t matter,” Sam gave you a sympathetic look, causing you to roll your eyes. You closed the book and stood up from the table, tucking it under your arm, “Maybe I could use his help with something,” you smiled at Sam. This was ridiculous. Sure, his name was written on your arm but yours wasn’t on his. You were a hunter and you had work to do. There was no way in hell you were going to sit around and mope over a guy—angel—whatever.
“(Y/N,” Sam started but went silent as you glared at him before walking back over to Dean and Cas. You had expected to see Gabe with them but he was nowhere to be found.
“Hey, did you guys see Gabe?” They both looked up at you, Dean with a rosy glow to his face you hadn’t seen in years and Cas who, you could have sworn had sadness in his eyes at hearing your question.
“Room,” Dean answered simply, gesturing in the direction of the hallway. You smiled and nodded a thank you as you headed off in that direction. Your stubborn determination faltered a bit as you reached his door, raising your hand and lowering it about three times before actually knocking. There was no answer, “Gabe, it’s me. Can I come in?” another moment of silence passed before a quick yes sounded from behind the door. Smiling, you opened it slowly and stepped in, closing it behind you. He looked up at you from his reclined position on the bed, closing the book he was holding slightly but keeping a finger on his place.
“Hey, sorry for being bitchy earlier. I actually could use your help with something if you’re still offering,” you smiled as his face softened.
“Course, cupcake,” he put the book aside and moved to sit on the side of the bed, beckoning you over to sit next to him. Taking your place beside him, you handed him the book and pointed to a sentence within in.
“Do you think you could translate this? I’m decent with this language but whatever this phrase is, has to be some type of slang or version of the language I’m not familiar with. I figured since you’re the ‘Messenger Angel’ and all you probably know quite a few tongues,” He glanced up at with a smirk but surprisingly let the moment pass without a lewd joke, you were sure both of you were thinking of.
“Sure,” he pointed to the line of text, “It means suns passed by the gods literally but in this context, it’s basically a long-winded way of saying time,” You nodded.
“Thanks,” you forced a small smile, trying to ignore the twisting feeling in the pit of your stomach.
“No problem,” He winked but as you reached for the book he went to hand it back to quickly, causing it to tumble to the ground.
“I got it,” you laughed, bending over to pick up the book but as you sat back up the sleeve of your sweater edged itself up from your wrist ever so slightly, but just enough to make out a black letter on your arm. Gabriel froze and your brow knitted together in confusion as you looked at him, “What’s-” you stopped talking as your gaze followed his to your arm. Quickly, you sprung up off of the bed and pulled your sleeve down.
“Gabe, I um,” He was still staring at you, clearly shocked and you felt as if the room was a million times smaller than it was before and kept closing in, “Thank you for the,” you tapped the book instead of finishing the sentence before muttering a quick sorry and leaving his room. You almost ran to the kitchen, tossing the book on the table and retrieving a beer from the fridge as you mentally tried to will your heart to stop beating a hundred miles a minute. Fuck.
“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself as you cracked open the beer and took a swig. Who knew a hunt could suck so much without anyone being maimed. You placed the beer on the counter and leaning against it, bracing yourself on your hands as you hung your head between them.
“(Y/N),” Gabriel called from behind you, his voice soft. You turned to face him with a small sigh, “Can I-Can I see your arm,” He asked hesitantly. He seemed unusual. He wasn’t smirking or cracking a joke as he usually would with you and weren’t sure what to think about it. It somehow comforted you and set you on edge at the same time, “Look, I understand if you don’t want to,” Gabriel looked down at the floor and you stepped forward slightly. He had already seen the letter and besides, you had more important fish to fry right now, all you did. What was the worst that could happen? You slowly pulled up the sleeve of your sweater and held your arm out to him. He took it gently in his hand as he looked over the letters of his name.
“I thought you said you had a cloud, like Sam’s” He looked up at you with an unreadable expression.
“I lied,” you looked away from him and lightly pulled your arm back. He gave no resistance, letting your arm fall down to your side.
“Why?” Your eyes snapped back up to him.
“Why? Because you’re my friend Gabe and a fucking Archangel. I didn’t want to ruin everything because of a stupid spell we messed up. I didn’t even want to tell you I liked you, let alone that I apparently have your name tattooed on my arm from some one-sided soulmate fuck up,” He looked sad but at least he didn’t look angry.
“You like me too?” He looked at you, almost taken aback by the fact and you nodded.
“Well, yeah,” you gestured to him in an attempt to lighten the situation, “Wait, too?” it suddenly dawned on you what he had said and you glanced up at him, wide-eyed. He smiled meekly, again to your surprise. Instead of responding he began to take off his jacket and tossed it on the counter before holding his arm out to you. You nearly gasped as you looked down at the black letters tattooed up his arm, spelling out your name. You took a moment to process, keeping your eyes on his forearm as a small smile formed on your lips.
“What about the ‘no archangel clause’,” you teased him, raising an eyebrow as he locked his eyes with yours.
“Guess I lied to cupcake,” He smirked. Your angel was back to himself, a mischievous glint replacing the uneasiness in his eyes, but he was still soft. There was no hint of trickery or anything insincere as he moved toward you.
“So we’re soulmates,” you breathed out as he rested his hands gingerly on your hips.
“If you’ll have me,” He looked into your eyes questioningly and you managed a quiet ‘of course’ before closing the space between you. The kiss was slow, hungry but cautious. His lips were unfamiliar against yours but God did they feel good. You ran a hand through his hair as his arms snaked further around your waste. You only parted when someone cleared their throat behind you. Glancing up from Gabriel you saw Sam smirking at the two of you.
“I’m glad you two have finally stopped dancing around your feelings but they are bad enough,” He gestured out the door and you could only assume he meant Dean and Cas, “ I don’t need to see you two making out every time I need to get a drink.”
“Fine with me Sammy,” Gabriel responded before lifting you up, making you squeal as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He reconnected his lips to yours tenderly as he hurried down the hallway, Sam’s loud sigh fading as you turned the corner.