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In Which Bad News Cometh
Gabriel took a trip to Heaven while Sam was showering. He came back so elaborately casual it was obvious something was wrong, but he waited until dinner to say, “So, turns out we have a big problem.” Sam shifted in the booth beside him, and the archangel patted his leg. “Oh, not you and me, kiddo. We’re golden. I mean, not literally, unless you’re into-”
“Whoa, hold on, no details,” Dean interrupted, waving a frantic hand. “Rule number three, Sammy.”
“I didn’t say anything,” Sam said in protest.
His brother scowled. “The rules apply to both of you. While I’m thinking about it, let’s add number four: keep your damned voices down when you’re doing whatever. Motel walls aren’t exactly soundproof. I had to put headphones on and blast Zep over the TV thanks to you inconsiderate dicks.”
“I did find that strange,” Castiel mused. “Gabriel could very easily block-” A piece of duct tape appeared over his mouth. He pulled it off, frowning. “I thought we were past these childish antics.”
“Did you? I find that strange.” Sam let out a snort at Gabriel’s response, and the archangel smirked. “Something funny, Sammitch?”
Sam shrugged, feeling happy and expansive. “You two are starting to sound like real brothers.”
He’d spoken without thinking, just a casual observation, so he was unprepared for the poleaxed expressions on the angels’ faces. Castiel’s eyes actually glowed a little. He got it under control, though his voice was rough when he spoke. “Thank you, Sam. That means a great deal to me.”
“Same here,” Gabriel said seriously. He leaned in to press a kiss against Sam’s hair. “You big squishy sap, you.”
The hunter rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, it’s good to see you guys happy is all. You said we had a problem?”
The emotion faded from Gabriel’s face, and he nodded. “Right. That. Well, it’s not good news.” He took a loud slurp of his hot chocolate. “Cas told you about the missing angel, right? Turns out Irafel did let something out. What do you know about Leviathan?”
Castiel went angel-still. Dean watched him, eyebrows furrowing in thought. “Isn’t that a kind of sea monster?”
“They thrive in water, yes, but they are more than that.” The angel’s expression settled into grim lines. “They are voracious monsters. You would find them to be incredibly strong and resilient, and their appetites are unappeasable. They eat anything and everything. Our Father confined them to Purgatory Himself. They are… difficult to contain.”
“But you’re angels,” the elder Winchester said. “You can just zap them back in their box, right?”
“We have to find them first,” Castiel told him. “Leviathan can take the shape of anyone they’ve eaten. I can’t see what they are unless they break shape or I’m reasonably close. I could disintegrate one at a time, but I could be overwhelmed by a group. Gabriel or Raphael could destroy a group or carry them back to Purgatory. However…” He gave his brother a stern look. “With Leviathan loose we can’t leave Heaven unguarded. They may know ways to get to Heaven from Earth.”
Gabriel made a face. “Oh ye of little faith. I already told Rafe she’s on house arrest for the duration. She looked kind of relieved, actually.”
His back muscles were tense under Sam’s arm. The man opened his hand, rubbing absent reassurance while he thought. “So these Leviathan scare angels.”
“There was a reason Daddy-o locked them up tight. We’ve got scouts out looking for signs, where to start looking and all that. Until we have something more concrete the most helpful thing you Winchesters can do is read up on Leviathan. I made study guides.” Gabriel leaned into his touch, eyes half-closed like a cat. “Dig in a little deeper, would you? I’ve got a knot like you wouldn’t believe.”
Castiel watched as Sam brought his other hand around to focus on the massage. Gabriel winked at him, and the younger angel cleared his throat. “Sam, perhaps when you are finished you could assist me. I have similar tension in my vessel.”
Dean’s head whipped around. “Whoa, Cas, you can’t ask Sam to do that. Guys don’t give each other massages.”
“Sam is doing so right now in public. No one appears disturbed.”
“They’re dating, or sleeping together or-”
“You had it right the first time,” Gabriel drawled. “This is textbook dating. We didn’t pass a ‘check yes or no’ note or anything but I think the boyfriend word applies, right, Samoose?”
The easy question caught Sam off guard. He scrambled for a sensible response and ended up saying, “I think the politically correct term is ‘partner’.”
Gabriel scoffed. “Lame. We’re having a passionate affair, not robbing a bank. I wanna be boyfriends.”
“Focus,” Dean said, making an impatient gesture with his pie fork. “The point is, Cas, you don’t rub up on someone when you’re dating someone else.”
Castiel tilted his head like he didn’t understand. “You mean that Sam would be implying faithlessness to Gabriel.” Dean nodded, far more satisfied than he should be for such a small victory. The angel sighed. “Very well. Dean, would you assist me with my vessel’s tension?”
Dean’s mouth dropped open, then snapped shut as raunchy saxophone music started playing over the jukebox. “Cut it out, Gabriel, he doesn’t mean it like that.”
“You sure about that?”
The hunter stabbed a piece of apple with his fork. “Don’t go painting Cas with your smutty brush. Dude says he’s tense, he’s just tense.”
Castiel’s eyes dropped, guilt scrawling itself across his face. “Never mind, Dean. I see now that my request was inappropriate.”
“Hey, don’t feel bad because Gabriel’s making everything into porn,” Dean said around a mouthful of pie. “You didn’t know.”
“I- Dean, I…” The angel shook his head and started over. “Most of my siblings are understandably wary of me at the moment. Gabriel is splitting time between Heaven and Sam, so there has been little opportunity for the communion typical between angels. What I told you was a falsehood. My vessel is in perfect condition. The massage merely looked soothing, and I wished to share in the comfort.”
Now Gabriel looked guilty. “Geez, little bro, you could have said something. Sam does sleep.”
“Even when I’m awake you guys can, you know, do brother things,” Sam added. He was suffering his own attack of conscience. “We’re friends, Cas. You’re allowed to need a hug, or whatever angels do.”
Dean chewed without comment, then swallowed and set his fork down. “Spin around.”
Castiel blinked. “You want me to spin?”
“Just turn around,” the man said, making a twirly motion. “I can’t get at your back from the side.” Cas hesitated, unsure, and Dean rolled his eyes. “Just do it before this gets any weirder, all right?”
The angel seemed a little dazed. He shifted sideways in the booth, startling when Dean dug practiced hands right into his shoulder blades. “Is it meant to be so aggressive?”
“You got knots, you gotta work ‘em out,” Dean said. He threw a warning glance at the other two. “No smart ass comments from the peanut gallery.”
Gabriel smiled, wide and satisfied. “Dean-o, this is one time even I’m not gonna screw things up.” Dean’s forehead wrinkled, confused and suspicious, and but Gabriel just flagged down the waitress. “Can we get some milkshakes over here? A chocolate, a peanut butter, and two strawberry.”
“One strawberry,” Dean corrected as he kneaded the base of Castiel’s neck. “Cas can’t finish a whole one, but he likes the taste. Just bring two straws.”
The waitress’s expression melted into a soppy smile. “Isn’t that just the cutest thing? I wish my boyfriend would be so sweet in public.”
Eyes still fixed on Cas’s back, the hunter snorted. “Yeah, those two are all hands. You should see them when we’re not in public, it’s like Casa Erotica’s gonna break out any second.”
Sam gaped at him. “Dean, do you seriously-”
“-think it’s okay to talk porn with our waitress?” Gabriel interrupted, slapping his palm over Sam’s mouth. “And you say I have no manners.”
Dean glanced around long enough to flash her an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that, ah, Shanda.”
She stared at him, then at Castiel’s blush and Gabriel’s twinkling eyes. Her smile grew. “Oh, honey, don’t you mind at all. Like I said, your brother and his boyfriend are real cute. I’ll have those milkshakes up in just a sec.”
Gabriel waited for her to turn away, then snapped. Everything but their side of the booth froze in time. He released Sam and sat back. “Sorry about that, Sambo, but you were about to ruin Christmas.”
“Don’t you think this is going a little far?” the hunter asked. “I don’t want to trick Dean into doing anything he’s uncomfortable with, Gabriel, even if you think it’s for his own good.”
“No one’s tricking him,” his partner soothed. “My brother said plain as day he just wants to cuddle and Dean jumped to it.” He drew Sam to his end of the bench. “I promise, no Trickster magic is involved. No divine magic, either. The only magic happening here is the normal, everyday Earth kind, and between you and me? It’s way past time for something good to happen to the Winchesters.”
Sam looked at the way his brother leaned into Castiel’s back, affection in his eyes though he wore a scowl. His worry faded. “You know, Gabriel,” he said slowly, “I think something good’s already happened to a Winchester.” Sam straightened and tucked the archangel back under his arm. “Someone, anyway.”
Gabriel snorted but didn’t argue. Instead he snapped time back into motion and told a story about pranking a choir of lesser angels. He didn’t mention the way Dean left one arm slung behind Castiel as if he’d forgotten it was there. When the shakes came he didn’t even joke about how Dean and Castiel slid theirs back and forth to share.
And if Sam got a picture text later of Cas wiping strawberry from Dean’s chin, well, at least Gabriel’d had the decency to hide the camera.