Archive of Our Own

Dialogue Prompt:
“But I don't usually have my wings on display, except when I want to appear “angelic,” so I really feel like they should count as a costume.”

Statement Prompt:
Whatever kind of Halloween party he might have thought he was attending, it was about a million miles away from what he actually saw when he opened the door.

***********************

Sam is reading. Researching, to be exact, relaxed and comfortable with his feet kicked up on the bed, enjoying the calm quiet of his room. He doesn’t notice the paper fluttering down from the ceiling at first, not until it makes that sound that all papers do as they fall, and then his eyes jump up from the book.

The paper is orange; that’s the first thing he sees, and it lands gently on his socked feet. It slides off the side and rests by his right ankle, where his feet are crossed. This is not something that’s ever happened in the bunker before. Papers don’t routinely fall from the ceiling.

He closes the book and sets in on the table beside his bed, watching the paper. He’s not completely sure he should touch it, it can’t be a normal paper after all. No normal paper falls through concrete or just materializes in a room. He moves his feet away and watches it fall down flat.

It has a slight sheen to it, almost like satin, kind of pearly. When he leans forward, nowhere near touching the thing, he sees bold black writing over the orange background. There are spider web patterns in the corners of the page, and when Sam looks closer he realizes this is a Halloween Party invitation.

Oh no. No, no, no. This is not good.

Sam told Gabriel a week ago that they were not having a Halloween Party, no way, no how. Gabriel had suggested it over breakfast, looking around the bunker and saying it would make the perfect setting for some “creepy chills and thrills.” Sam had shot the idea down immediately. It doesn’t look like Gabriel listened.

Not surprising. He never does.

“Gabe!” Sam yells to his empty bedroom. “Gabriel, get down here now!”

The sound of rustling wings fills the room, and then the sassy trickster has his elbow propped against Sam’s dresser, one eyebrow raised as he appraises Sam. He’s eating a sucker. He adjusts it to one side of his mouth, the sound clacking on his teeth, before he speaks. “You rang?”

Sam holds the paper up. “I told you no party.”

“No, you told me no party here. You didn’t say no party at all.”

“Where the hell are you going to have a party if it’s not here?”

Gabriel smirks, rolling his eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Sam raises his arms, and then drops them onto his thighs in exasperation. “Well I kinda have to know, I’m invited.” He waves the orange paper between them, making it flap loudly.

Gabriel slowly raises his hand to his mouth, pulling the sucker out and licking his lips. “That you are, Samoose.”

“How am I supposed to get there if I don’t know where it is?” Sam’s on a rant before Gabriel can answer. “And it better not be anywhere inside this bunker, at all. Not the garage, the library, none of it. When I said no I meant no. I don’t even want it outside the bunker. You know what, 50 mile radius. No party in a 50 mile radius.”

Gabriel waits a full thirty seconds after Sam stops talking before he speaks. “You done?”

Sam crosses his arms and widens his stance, daring Gabriel to challenge him. Dating an Archangel, especially a Trickster Archangel, has its challenges. Sam rises to them all. That’s what Gabriel loves so much. Well that, and a few other things.

“Who said the party is even on earth?”

Sam doesn’t have an answer for that. Truth be told he’s actually speechless. He purses his lips and looks down at the floor. Not on earth. Okay. What am I supposed to say?

He meets Gabriel’s eyes. “Once again, how do I get there if it’s not on earth?”

"You be ready at 8pm on the dot, I’ll get you there.”

“No,” Sam shakes his head emphatically, nervously rolling the paper into a cone in his hands, “no more of that snapping me up some place crap. I hate that, it catches me off guard--”

"You won’t be off guard,” Gabriel strolls toward Sam, closing the distance between them, “I told you exactly what time I’d snap you up. You’ll be prepared.” He tugs on the front of Sam’s shirt, looking up into those hazel eyes, and finally coaxing a smile out of Sam.

“Gabe, I don’t even have a costume and Halloween is two days away. There’s no way I can find something in two days.”

“Oh ye of little faith,” Gabriel raises up on his toes and quickly kisses Sam’s chin. “You’ll find something, use that beautiful brain of yours, think outside the box. I don’t care if you cut up a sheet, just be ready, I want to show you off.”

Sam’s hands slip into Gabriel’s belt loops, pulling them playfully. “Oh really? Show me off to whom?” The twinkle in Gabriel’s eyes tells Sam he’s not going to give anything away.

“You’ll see,” Gabriel pulls away, walking backward from Sam. “Introductions will be made, alcohol will be consumed, just be ready.” Gabriel winks, looking Sam up and down before he raises his hand to snap his fingers.

“Wait, you’re leaving?” Sam steps closer, watching Gabriel’s finger land on the neck of Sam’s shirt to trace a line from his collar all the way down to his belt buckle.

“‘Fraid so, kiddo. Parties don’t plan themselves after all.” Gabriel flicks a finger, making the buttons on Sam’s shirt fly open. “Mmmm,” he hums appreciatively, “on second thought, no sheets for a costume. Make sure it’s sleeveless. And that your chest is bare. And maybe show a few abs, just like, eight, maybe ten, not the full twelve you’ve got going there…” His eyes rake over Sam’s stomach.

Sam slips his shirt down off his shoulders, letting it fall in a pool around his feet. “You sure you have to go?”

Gabriel sighs loudly, and Sam thinks he’s going to leave. His fingers are fiddling by his side, rubbing together back and forth, eyes roaming over Sam’s body and face like he’s a meal. He suddenly steps toward Sam with determination and Sam grabs the angel by the back of the neck, leaning in to kiss him.

Gabriel is pushing Sam back, driving him towards the bed with a purpose, and when the back of Sam’s legs connect and he falls backwards onto the mattress Gabriel is straddling him in an instant.

"Ten minutes. We’ve got ten minutes, got it?”

Sam is nodding his approval, knowing ten minutes will turn into twenty, thirty, an hour, it always does. He grabs the front of Gabriel’s jacket and yanks him down into a searing kiss, hands roaming over thighs. He’s going to take advantage of every second.

****

Two days later Sam is standing in the bathroom looking at himself in the full length mirror.

He looks like an idiot. A complete and total idiot. But the Halloween store only had one costume left in stock that would fit him. Well, technically two, but there was no way in hell he was wearing an inflatable costume of the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. No way.

So, Thor it is. Dean had busted a gut yesterday, laughing at him while he paid for it, making him regret combining the stop at the Halloween store with a run into town with Dean to pick up supplies.

And now he’s here, staring in the mirror at his thighs encased in black spandex. He cut the arms of the shirt off, if it could technically be called a shirt, and cut around a chest plate exposing his abs, just as the Archangel had requested. He feels more like an idiot than ever looking at his muscle in the mirror, but Gabriel is going to love this.

He should take off the helmet though, he turns his head this way and that. It looks really stupid with the little wings on the sides, and the red cape-- it’s just ridiculous. He looks completely ridiculous and he should take this crap off and change while he has the chance. Just cut up a sheet and throw it over his head, it would look so much better than this--

He’s sucked away in a whirlwind before he can finish that thought.

It’s over in seconds, but it leaves him out of breath and blinking with wide eyes into the dark.

He tries to get his bearings. He’s outside, the air cool and crisp on his skin. He can hear a dog howling somewhere close, really close.

His eyes slowly adjust, the bright moonlight illuminating the trees in front of him. They’re blazing full of color, red, orange and yellow, lit up like mascots of fall. He turns, and behind him a house looms. It’s dark, stone, and as he looks up, up and up, he realizes that it’s not a house. It’s a castle. It looks like something straight out of Transylvania.

Of course. Of course Gabriel would plan a Halloween party in an actual haunted castle. Sam laughs to himself, and then shakes his head. He approaches the arched wooden doors and lifts the big circular door knocker, slamming it down one time. No one answers, but the latch clicks, and the door groans open an inch.

He pushes it inward. Whatever kind of Halloween party he might have thought he was attending, it was about a million miles away from what he actually saw when he opened the door.

The first thing he sees when he enters the room is a woman that for all the world looks like a Scylla, which he never knew were even real. She’s wearing pale white makeup and two fake vampire teeth on her canines. Her abdomen and lower body is made up of six dogs, as a Scylla is rumored to be in mythology, and she’s given each dog its own black satin cape, lined in red.

She looks at Sam and smiles, a tiny trail of fake blood dripping from the corner of her mouth. One of the dogs whines and wags its tail at Sam while he stands frozen.

He tears his eyes away from her, suddenly aware that he’s staring rudely, and he sees a Cyclops filling his glass with orange punch at a nearby table. There are gummy worms hanging over the sides of the punch bowl, and one end of the table is lined with orange iced cupcakes, topped with black cats, witches hats, and spider webs. The cyclops seems to sense Sam looking at him and turns, inclining his head in a hello.

Sam reciprocates. The cyclops is wearing a Spiderman costume with a hole cut in the center of the forehead. It looks like the kind a child would wear, with the padded muscles and everything, and it’s so bizarre that Sam thinks he’s dreaming.

“Sammich!”

The familiar voice comes from behind him and Sam whirls in relief.

Gabriel’s eyes light up when he takes in Sam’s costume. “Oh ho ho, look at you,” Gabriel does a slow walk around Sam, “this is too perfect, kiddo. Too damn perfect.”

Sam doesn’t know what to make of that, and he’s too busy taking in the Faun, ram horns and all, wearing a Cinderella gown. She looks at him and giggles, covering her mouth with a sheep’s hooved hand. Her crown is balanced between her horns and Sam wonders, rather foolishly, if she glued it there, because it doesn’t look like it should stay.

I wonder if her feet are hooves. If her feet are hooves, how can she wear the glass slipper?

"So!” Gabriel smacks his hands together, pulling Sam’s attention back to him. “What do you think of my costume party? Fantastic, right?” He raises his arms and turns in a circle, and Sam looks up.

There’s a second story balcony that’s open to this room, and it’s filled with people. Well, maybe they’re people, or a few of them, but most are exotic beings and creatures that Sam never knew were real. He should probably be hunting, some of these things--

Gabriel finally snaps his fingers, making it a huge display.

The lights dim, and a throbbing, unsettling music thrums through the room. A wild whoop rings out from the guests, and something in the room seems to come alive.

Sam looks around him, trying to place what exactly are shadows and what are beings. He finally notices the decorations, or maybe they just appeared? He’s not sure. Huge fake cobwebs hang from the ceiling and down the walls… On second thought, those might not be fake. He’s pretty sure he can see spiders the size of golden retrievers crawling in them.

Orange streamers hang from everything: lamps, tables, sconces, all over the place. Black plastic bats dangle from strings in corners, and a gigantic orange disco ball is now spinning over their heads. It throws glints of light around the room, which makes the moving shadows appear and disappear in a way that sets Sam on edge.

Gabriel’s hand slips into his and pulls him away from the party, down a long hall. “C’mon, I want to introduce you,” Gabriel explains, and Sam suddenly focuses on him fully.

Gabriel is naked from the waist up, except for a fur of some kind, possibly bear, draped around his shoulders. Sam can see a wide leather belt encircling his waist, and then loose leather pants laced down each side with leather laces. When he looks over his shoulder at Sam, a narrow gold crown glints. It fits down on Gabriel’s forehead, and where it’s thinner in the back it flares slightly between his eyes, and dips down between them. It’s dotted with cabochon stones, the way ancient stones were cut and polished before facets were possible, and they glow at Sam in the dim, candle sconce lighting.

He leads Sam to a hall, a great hall, filled with raucous laughter and the sounds of drinking. It’s brighter in the hall, like thousands of invisible candles are lit, although Sam can’t see any. Massive wooden tables fill the room, with chairs and benches scattered around them where people are up and moving.

There’s a stage, or something like it, raised a few feet above the rest of the floor at the back of the hall. It holds one table, and in the center of that table sits a man that Sam knows instantly, not because he’s met him, but because he looks exactly like every depiction Sam has ever seen.

His beard is long, thick, grey. He’s wearing leather and fur, and his feet are up on the table and crossed at the ankle. He’s booming out a laugh that sounds like thunder, and Sam wants to cover his ears and turn away.

“Odin,” Sam whispers.

Gabriel pauses. He stops pulling Sam along and takes a place by Sam’s side, surveying the room. When Sam finally looks down at the angel he sees that the cabochons in the crown are red and orange, like fire, and something like fire is reflected in Gabriel’s eyes. Sam is mesmerized by it.

"Figured it was about time I introduced you to my second family.” One side of Gabriel’s mouth twitches, like he’s going to smile, but he looks away quickly.

Sam follows Gabriel’s line of sight, and focuses on the other people, and creatures, in the hall.

“Your family,” Sam says, taking in those in the room. He watches Frigg, Odin’s wife, climb the stairs to the stage and move behind her husband to rub his shoulders. The god tilts his head back, meeting her eyes, and Sam hears his booming voice, “Good woman,” he says.

A woman more beautiful than any he’s ever seen approaches them. Her movements are so graceful it’s like she’s in water. Her bare feet make no sound on the echoing floor of the hall, and her white gown is embroidered with gold thread in patterns of leaves and flowers. It’s cut daringly low, down to her belly button, and a massive gold necklace rests between her breasts.

“Loki,” she greets the angel, her voice husky, sexy. “I hope this Hallow’s Eve finds you well?”

Gabriel bows to her. “It does indeed, Freyja. And yourself?”

Her hand extends, but she doesn’t touch Gabriel. Her hand hovers above his skin, a hair’s breath away. “I am well, dear Trickster. I am off to the party to look for a Troll who owes me a debt.”

“Before you go,” Gabriel turns slightly, looking up at Sam, his hand encircling Sam’s wrist and squeezing to make Sam stop staring at her. “I’d like to introduce you to Sam Winchester.”

Her eyes look liquid when they fall on Sam’s face, and he’s drawn to her in an unnatural way, he knows it. She’s a goddess of sex and beauty after all, that’s probably a normal reaction. Gabriel’s hand squeezes again and Sam blinks. Her eyes aren’t liquid anymore, or maybe that was a trick of the lighting, Sam isn’t sure.

He extends his hand to her. “Pleasure to meet you.”

She looks at his hand, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “My dear, I beg pardon, but I don’t think you want me to touch you. Touching me has,” she looks Sam up and down before she goes on, “side effects. Some that you may not like,” she looks to Gabriel and winks, “or Loki might not appreciate."

Sam drops his hand, feeling like a fool. “Right, I’m sorry--"

She holds her hand up to stop his apology. “Don’t fret over it, I assure you, I take no offense.” She cocks a knowing eyebrow at the angel by his side and then glides away on her graceful bare feet.

"That necklace,” Sam turns to Gabriel, questions jumping into his mind like crazy, “was she wearing the Brísingamen?”

"She was indeed, smarty pants,” Gabriel pulls Sam along again.

“What did she mean, side effects if she touched me?”

The mischievous look in Gabriel’s eye when he looks at Sam is not a good thing. It’s never a good thing.

“Usually it’s fertility, like, look at someone and they get pregnant kind of fertility. But unending, insatiable horniness goes along with that. I’m not opposed to that side effect if you want me to call her back--”

“No, no I’m good, I’m perfectly good.”

Gabriel guffaws, dragging Sam further into the room, toward a table.

Sam stops dead in his tracks, frozen. His eyes lock onto one individual at the table. He’s seated, the size of him looking for all the world like it might crush the wooden chair he’s sitting in. He’s sitting rod straight with his massive arms out at his sides like he’s balancing on a wire. Those arms are the thickness of tree trunks, muscles clearly outlined in them, and they hover back and forth. He has thick red hair and a beard, and a wide belt engulfs his waist.

When Sam first sees him the word brawny comes to mind. It’s who he imagines the word was created for. The guy embodies it with his size and obvious power. That thought is quickly pushed aside though, as Sam sees what is balancing on the man’s head.

A hammer. The Mjollnir to be exact. It’s square head resting flat on the man’s skull, the handle wobbling up in the air. This is Thor. The Thor. Not some obnoxiously handsome Marvel wannabe. This is the embodiment of who Sam is dressed as, and that thought is what freezes him in his tracks and makes him feel like a court jester, an imposter, a fool.

My costume came with the hammer, it was foam and plastic and twice the size of the one on his head, Sam thinks. I sat it on the bathroom counter and didn’t grab it before Gabriel snapped me away. Thank heaven for small favors. He’d feel like an even bigger fool if he was carrying that thing around.

“S’wrong?” Gabriel asks, his eyes almost concerned when he looks at Sam. He follows Sam’s line of sight and sees Thor at the table, surrounded by Gods and Goddesses. He’s doing his one and only party trick, Gabriel’s seen it a million times, and he rolls his eyes once again.

He turns himself to face Sam and pulls the hunters chin down to look at him. “Don’t worry about him, he’s an idiot. But there’s someone I want to introduce you to at that table.”

“No, Gabe, you don’t understand. I’m dressed as Thor, as him, I can’t let him see me like this,”

Gabriel rests a finger on Sam’s mouth to quiet him. “He’ll never know.” When Sam looks at him in irritated disbelief Gabriel shakes his head. “No, I’m telling you, Sam, he’s a dunce. Plus he’s drunk. He always does that trick when he’s drunk.” Gabriel makes his voice deeper, mocking, “If the mighty mjollnir falls...”

Thor’s voice takes over the room, saying exactly what Gabriel is saying. “It will cause an earthquake so massive the continents will split again!”

Gabriel sighs, his eyes rolling to the side. “Listen, Thor likes mead and women. He doesn’t pay attention to anything else. He’s strong, he’s a formidable opponent at war, but if he shows up to a battle of wits he’s completely unarmed. Just ignore him, I’m sure he’ll ignore you.”

Gabriel tries to tug Sam forward but he holds his ground. “Just-- can you snap me into a different outfit or something? I don’t think this costume really fits this crowd.”

"Nonsense,” Gabriel’s eyes land on Sam’s thighs, roaming up to the unhideable bulge at his crotch, “I told you this was perfect and it is. Now let’s go, I want to introduce you to Hel.” He yanks Sam forward.

"Wait, Hel? Is she really your,” but they’re too close to the table now and Sam doesn’t want anyone to hear their conversation. He falls quiet.

“Hel,” Gabriel greets her, “please, I’d like to introduce you to Sam Winchester.”

When she raises her eyes to look at Sam he almost gasps. She’s striking, not in her beauty, but in her uniqueness. Half of her is tinted a silvery blue, her skin shimmering on that side of her body. Her right eye has no pigment, just a pupil in the center, and when she raises her hand in a gesture of hello Sam notices that the nails on that hand look like lapis.

Her other side is flesh colored, her eye a dark brown. She looks sad, something about her seems to be heartbroken, even when she smiles. She’s surrounded by servants, quiet and watching, and her blue hand strokes the hound by her side.

When Sam looks to the dog its mouth opens in a wolfish grin, its tongue lolling out the side of its mouth. Its name is Garmr, Sam remembers from his reading, he guards Hel’s gate. His goofy dog expression is in such contrast to his blood stained body that Sam can’t quite merge the two things in his mind.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Sam finally stammers out, tearing his eyes away from the dog and back up to Hel’s face. Her features are the same on both halves of her face, but the different colored eyes and skin make her seem like two people merged into one. It’s distracting to say the least.

"The pleasure of our meeting is all mine, Sam Winchester,” her voice is a rasp, sharp, almost metal sounding. She looks over Sam, her mismatched eyes taking him in with slow interest. “I like your costume.”

Sam wants to cover himself, cross his arms, his legs, everything. Thor is sitting three feet away. He seems oblivious, but still.

"I didn’t mean any disrespect by it,” Sam’s words trail away when she gracefully raises a hand.

“You’ll find most Gods have a better sense of humor than you’d think. Besides, I’m sure my father loves this. It appeals to him on more than one level.” She almost smiles then. Almost.

Sam goes to glance at Gabriel and finds him gone. He scans the room to find Gabriel out of earshot. He’s talking to a ferocious looking dog that’s at least the size of a grizzly bear.

As Sam watches it swings its head, intelligent eyes study him from a distance, and then its lip curls back over a fang. Sam can hear a growl rumble through the room.

The beast turns, its head slung low, shoulders hunched. It stalks towards Sam with slow intent. His eyes fly around, looking for a place to take cover.

“Ignore him,” Hel’s voice invades Sam’s thoughts, “he’s trying to intimidate you."

And it’s working.

He holds stock still as the massive dog reaches him. Hellhounds have nothing on this guy. He’s massive, terrifying, and Sam can actually feel himself shaking slightly as the animal invades his space to smell him.

"Fenrir, knock it off,” Hel chastises, “you’re not scaring anyone. Everyone knows you won’t hurt father’s lover.”

Sam’s eyes go wide at her comment. Fear is making his brain thick. This is Gabriel’s-- No, this is Loki’s son. This monstrous wolf, not a dog, bit off the right hand of Tyr, if legend is correct.

Fenrir sniffs Sam’s face, puffs of hot air making Sam close his eyes tightly. He’s eye to eye with Sam, if the wolf stood on his back legs he’d tower over the whole room.

“Fenrir,” Hel’s sharp tone sounds like grinding gears, and the wolf’s ears pin back as he swings to face her.

Her hound growls up at him, and Sam thinks that’s either the dumbest or the bravest dog he’s ever seen.

All at once Fenrir drops on his haunches with a huff, an all too familiar canine sound. The hound drops down in a play bow, its blood spattered tail wagging, and Fenrir drops a heavy paw on its head. It’s an obvious sign of affection, and Hel inclines her head in thanks to her wolf brother.

Sam’s shoulders sag in relief.

“Sam Winchester, may I introduce my brother, Fenrir,” Hel says.

Sam turns his head cautiously and meets honey brown eyes that remind him of Gabriel-- No, Loki. “Hi,” is what he manages to get out, and how he manages that he’s not quite sure.

The wolf doesn’t make any sign of acknowledgment.

“Don’t mind Fenrir,” Gabriel says from behind Sam, “he’s just mad that someone took away his chew toy.”

The wolf sighs, and Sam’s pretty sure it rolls its eyes.

"He takes after mother,” Hel glances to Gabriel quickly, “you know how she loved her chew toys. They used to share thigh bones, she liked to use them as toothpicks. She was a giantess you know,” she meets Sam’s eyes.

Somehow he knows she’s teasing. He can see something of her father in her expression, that mischievous glint in her eye like he gets when he’s playing a prank. But Sam is so wildly uncomfortable with the subject matter that he can’t make himself relax.

“Gabe,” He inhales quickly, correcting his mistake, “I mean Loki, could we talk?”

The Trickster raises his eyebrow, and it’s one of those moments that make Sam feel like the smaller one, even though he’s a full head taller than Gabriel’s vessel.

Sam follows as he’s led back into the hallway. When Loki turns he doesn’t speak, just puts his hands on his hips and looks up at Sam expectantly.

"What is going on?” Sam blurts.

The eyebrow raises again. “I thought it was obvious, I’m introducing you to my family. Well, the other side of my family. The angel side are dicks, you know that.”

"And you didn’t think it was important to tell me what was happening before I got here? So I could at least be prepared to meet your children?! I mean,” Sam pinches the bridge of his nose, “I didn’t even know you had children--”

Gabriel scoffs, cutting Sam off. “Of course you did, you know mythology better than anyone.”

“Yes, I mean no, that’s not what I meant. I meant that I thought the whole “witness protection” thing,” Sam does air quotes around the phrase, “your words not mine. I thought that was a cover. I always thought you killed the real Loki, maybe threw him on Pluto or something. I thought you were just posing as him, I didn’t know you actually were him.”

Gabriel actually looks surprised. He blinks deliberately, and when he goes to speak no words come. His mouth forms a little “o” as he thinks over what Sam said.

"Okay,” he finally sighs, “so slight misunderstanding there, I’ll give you that. But if I’d told you when you got the invite that you were meeting my family what would you have done?”

Sam throws his arms up. “I don’t know, maybe read up on them? Learn how to defend myself against them?”

"So you think I’d let them hurt you?” Gabriel crosses his arms tightly over his chest, eyes narrowing on Sam.

“No, that’s,” Sam shakes his head, eyes closing as he tries to think, “that’s not what I meant. That sounded bad, I’m sorry.”

“No, Sam,” Gabriel takes a deep breath before stepping a hair closer. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t tell you because I thought you’d worry. I know how you are, you stress and over think and don’t sleep and over think some more. I wanted to spare you that. But you’re right, I should have warned you before I dragged you into a room full of Norse Gods.”

Sam bites his lip, trying not to smile. He shouldn’t get over his irritation so easily, he knows it, but he can’t ever stay mad at Gabriel. He reaches out and drags the angel into his arms.

“I have questions,” Sam says into the soft blondish brown hair.

That gets a chuckle. “Figured you would."

"Do I call you Loki or Gabe in front of them?” He feels Gabriel shrug in his arms.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Am I about to meet a massive snake?”

That gets a loud laugh into his chest, and Gabriel’s arms wrap around his waist tightly. He knows Sam was referring to another of his children. “Jörmundgandr couldn’t make it, something about that whole if she releases her tail Ragnarök starts.”

Sam smiles. “Did you really give birth to an eight legged horse?”

Gabriel’s fingers tickle Sam’s sides. “Told you there were side effects from touching Freya.”

Sam laughs heartily at that.

"Sammy!” the voice echoes from down the long hall.

Sam turns to see Dean and Cas approaching. His eyes go wide, and he releases Gabriel so that he can take in the scene too. “Dean?” He looks back to Gabriel. “You invited Dean and Cas?”

Gabriel shrugs.

Dean is wearing a yellow t-shirt with a black zig zag painted on, an obviously poor attempt at a Charlie Brown costume. It would have been cheap and easy and it’s totally Dean.

But Cas, while he’s wearing all his normal clothing, slacks, white dress shirt, tie and trench coat, he has massive wings towering over his back. They’re black, and the feathers at the highest curve are brushing the 12 foot ceiling, while the long flight feathers are curved, dragging over the stone floor.

Sam’s mouth hangs open in shock.

“Really, Cassie?” Gabriel’s tone is mocking. “You came as an angel? That’s not a costume, I call cheating.”

“But I don't usually have my wings on display, except when I want to appear “angelic,” so I really feel like they should count as a costume.” Cas looks over Gabriel’s appearance. “You’re dressed as Loki. How is that a costume, brother?”

Gabriel bows slightly to Cas, obviously knowing that his brother has caught him. “Touché.”

"Shut your mouth, Sam,” Dean says around a mouthful of cupcake, “looks like you’re catchin’ flies.” Dean looks at Sam and smirks. “I like your hat though.”

Sam snaps his mouth shut. He reaches up and snatches the stupid Thor helmet off his head. He forgot he was wearing the ridiculous thing. He looks at Gabriel, wanting to blame him for feeling so silly, instead a question flies out of his mouth. “Why have I never seen your wings?”

“All you gotta do it ask, kiddo. Mine are better than his, they’re gold.” Gabriel looks between Dean and Cas, “So, you two wanna meet the other side of Sam’s in laws?”

Cas shakes his head slightly, but before he can say no Dean is talking.

"In laws? You guys get married?”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Shut up, Dean. I think you need to prepare yourself for what’s in that room…” Sam’s voice trails away as he watches Freya gracefully walk around Dean.

She inclines her head to Sam and Gabriel as she pauses, waiting for someone to open the door for her.

It’s Dean’s turn to have his mouth hanging open, before he clears his throat and licks his lips. Dean quickly pushes his way between Sam and Gabriel to get to the door. “Please,” he pulls the door open and then extends his elbow to her, “allow me."

She looks intently at Dean’s elbow being offered to her, and then to Sam’s shock see places her hand inside the crook of his arm and smiles at Dean sweetly. “Such a gentleman,” she praises.

Dean squares his shoulders and leads her into the room.

Sam stands in stunned shock. “Gabe, what the hell just happened?”

“Well, I think I can tell you what’s about to happen, Samshine.” Gabriel walks to Cas, placing a hand on his back, below his wings. He leads his brother forward into the room. “I think Cas might be a Daddy very soon.”