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blue_bells» Title: Come with me if you want to live
» Fandom: Supernatural
» Warnings: Spoilers for Season 5
» Pairing(s)/Characters: Dean/Gabriel
» Summary: Dean falls down a hole. Gabriel arrives to save him.
» A/N: Dedicated to the lovely![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
morganoconner for Christmas, the holidays and a happy new year. Sorry about the delay on this!
It was not Dean's choice to hunt under a moonless night.
Despite the flashlight he carried, there was a distinct tactical disadvantage in the absence of natural light, but the monster that was chewing its way through Pillsburgh Elementary hadn't received the memo. The sun was sinking below the horizon when Sam and Dean reached the highest point in the town's surrounding hills in search of that one cluster of pines serving as the monster's lair.
Dean wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his jacket and looked back the way they had come. The town was a lazy patchwork of fairy lights down below, but this was where the trail had led.
The monster had one hell of a commute for lunch. Those kids must have been worth the distance.
He was still estimating the distance in his head when Sam’s shout of warning rang out over the hill.
"Run! Dean, run!"
There was a deep, heavy crash to his left, like something bodily forced its way through old, thick wood without the finesse of a clean cut. The sound spread, wind through the branches of many more trees, cracking, splintering with growing urgency then the abrupt thunk of wood and Dean realised the trees were being felled around him. Like the trail they followed up here.
"It's coming your way!"
Dean squinted at the dark, frustration building.
This thing left a trail, but not a single trace of what it actually was. And the M.O. was completely confused.
The noise was getting louder, but it was coming from at least three directions and he was yet to hear anything that wasn't wood.
This was completely stupid.
"What the hell is it, Sammy?"
But before Sam could reply, something dark, shaggy and ten feet tall broke through the trees. Dean looked at the gun in his hands and made a judgment call.
He turned and ran like a bat out of hell.
The thing advanced, slow, heavy tread of crushing, wood-cracking thunks, then hot, moist air rolled down his neck and Dean swore, diving to the side.
He fell through the pines, grunting as his knee connected with a rough cluster of rocks. And he kept on falling.
The hole was large enough for him to sprawl flat. He jammed his elbow on the way down, but at least the landing was soft under his head. The world still whited out for what might have been a few minutes, or an hour, but he was involuntarily practicing his fish impression when his vision cleared to a jagged view of the night sky and the heads of the surrounding trees.
The crickets chirped in solitary chorus. The thing must have passed him by.
Warm blood was running down his knee, his shoulder throbbed in contrition when he tried to pull himself up and decided to start with his other arm instead. It was a slow, ginger effort filled with lots of groaning, but eventually Dean got himself sitting upright.
He slouched with a huff of effort before looking up the way he had fallen.
It was no rabbit hole, but it wasn’t a cavern either. It was as though one of the trees had been pulled clear of the Earth and all its roots with the surrounding soil had come with it; it would have made a nice burrow. A few inches to the right and he would have cracked his melon open on a significant pile of rocks.
He was just counting his luck when the air shifted around him and a pair of boots materialised at his knee.
Dean looked up the length of cargo pants, denim jacket and – oh, he must have been concussed after all.
Gabriel held out his hand.
“Come with me if you want to live.”
Dean blinked at the hand and then at the archangel’s too-serious-to-be-taken-seriously expression.
“Pretty sure I’m going to live through this one,” Dean slurred, considering his scraped knee and dislocated shoulder. “Though I could use a hand up –“
He laughed abruptly, realising his mistake.
“Asking my hallucination to help me up… not as easy as Eddie made it look in Fight Club.”
Gabriel had cocked his head to the side, curious smile narrowed at him.
“It’s good to be missed – but I can do one better than a hand up,” Gabriel said and Dean had an idea what came next when the angel smirked like the trickster and snapped his fingers.
Dean’s elbows sunk into a thick, rich duvet and the hole in the ground changed to a warm, yellow hotel room judging by the card-activated power slot by the tall door. Bright light spilled from the open, polished bathroom and Dean caught the edge of what looked like a sauna before his arms gave out and he fell back.
His entire body melted. It was not possible for a bed to feel this good. He felt as though if he stayed in more motels with beds like this, he wouldn’t need medical attention ever again. Not as long as the duvets were this thick and the pillows were this soft….
Then somebody snapped their fingers in his ear and his shoulders jerked.
Ow.
He’d been trying to forget about that.
Gabriel was smirking down at him, standing beside the bed when Dean cracked an eye open.
“Sam?” Dean asked.
Gabriel waved it off like it was yesterday’s news, heard and handled.
“He’s fine.”
Dean looked him up and down.
“Are you real?” The duvet felt real under his palms, something patterned and firm, but Dean had his share of lucid concussions in his time. The air was clean and crisper than anything since the green room, but the only thing that softened that association was the vague perfume of hotel shampoo.
Gabriel’s smirk softened and he sat by Dean’s arm on the bed.
“What do you think this is, a dream date?” Gabriel teased, hand at Dean's shoulder.
The throbbing ache evaporated under his fingertips. Dean’s eyes slipped shut as Gabriel’s hand moved to his knee where the denim was clinging, heavy and cooling to his skin with blood.
“I don’t dream about you,” Dean said. “You’re dead.”
He breathed out through his nose, tightness easing in his chest and he knew when he looked down there wouldn’t even be a tear in his jeans where he’d dived against the rock. He moved his knee experimentally, drawing his leg up on the bed as Gabriel’s weight shifted.
Gabriel nudged his shoulder.
“Move over.”
Gabriel lay down on his back beside him, hands steepling over his chest and Dean studied the light fixture over the bed, eyes tearing at the corners from the light’s intensity.
“That’s a damn ugly lampshade,” Dean said, and then Gabriel snapped his fingers and the light in the room dimmed to something more sympathetic. Suddenly, there was no need to squint. “… Thanks.”
He felt Gabriel turn on the bed and knew the angel was looking at him.
“Wasn’t so hard to say, was it?”
Dean could hear his smile and cocked an eyebrow in his direction, too lazy to look him in the eye.
“Was that monster one of yours?”
Gabriel shrugged, a brush of denim against Dean’s shoulder.
“Boogeyman. Big foot, whatever you want to call him. He wasn’t eating the children. I sent him to find the thing that did – thought you boys were still off shooting bigger game.”
Like my brothers.
Dean hummed at that new information and looked back at the lightshade. Now that he could see it, it looked like one of those Asian pagodas with its pointed corners and long, sweeping top.
“I could visit you in your dreams, if you wanted,” Gabriel said.
Dean looked up and around the room. His hands were folded on his stomach.
“You sure that’s not what this is?”
Dean turned his head, duvet sliding smooth against his ear and cheek. Gabriel’s eyes were green and Dean watched, waiting for the glimmer of something other that would reveal the angel beneath, but Gabriel felt as simple and solid as any other human. Dean watched the angel watch him, hazel green human, until Gabriel’s gaze searched his face, dropped to his mouth.
“How much do you want, Dean?” Gabriel asked, as though they were in a marketplace and one of them was behind a cashier.
Dean snorted a laugh, not even noticing the turn in conversation and that should have been his first clue.
“Hell, I want everything.”
“I’m real,” Gabriel promised, low and quiet. He smiled and shook his head once. “You don’t want to know how.”
“No, I really don’t,” Dean agreed and tugged the arm of Gabriel’s jacket half-heartedly.
Gabriel went up on one shoulder and tilted in as far as he had to for Dean to lean up and catch his mouth. He heard Gabriel’s sharp inhale as Dean pulled him back down, almost falling against Dean’s chest and he snickered when their teeth clashed. Gabriel smiled and Dean chuckled when the angel ducked in to kiss him lightly, twice, and the third time Dean’s mouth opened, brushing his tongue against Gabriel’s. Gabriel’s fingers curled against his chest, kissing him slow and deep and when Gabriel pulled back, Dean felt the tap of fingers against his collarbone.
“And that, Dean-o, is how you know you’re dreaming,” Gabriel breathed against his lips, quicksilver smile and kissed him again.
Dean woke up on the inhale.
» Fandom: Supernatural
» Warnings: Spoilers for Season 5
» Pairing(s)/Characters: Dean/Gabriel
» Summary: Dean falls down a hole. Gabriel arrives to save him.
» A/N: Dedicated to the lovely
morganoconner for Christmas, the holidays and a happy new year. Sorry about the delay on this!It was not Dean's choice to hunt under a moonless night.
Despite the flashlight he carried, there was a distinct tactical disadvantage in the absence of natural light, but the monster that was chewing its way through Pillsburgh Elementary hadn't received the memo. The sun was sinking below the horizon when Sam and Dean reached the highest point in the town's surrounding hills in search of that one cluster of pines serving as the monster's lair.
Dean wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his jacket and looked back the way they had come. The town was a lazy patchwork of fairy lights down below, but this was where the trail had led.
The monster had one hell of a commute for lunch. Those kids must have been worth the distance.
He was still estimating the distance in his head when Sam’s shout of warning rang out over the hill.
"Run! Dean, run!"
There was a deep, heavy crash to his left, like something bodily forced its way through old, thick wood without the finesse of a clean cut. The sound spread, wind through the branches of many more trees, cracking, splintering with growing urgency then the abrupt thunk of wood and Dean realised the trees were being felled around him. Like the trail they followed up here.
"It's coming your way!"
Dean squinted at the dark, frustration building.
This thing left a trail, but not a single trace of what it actually was. And the M.O. was completely confused.
The noise was getting louder, but it was coming from at least three directions and he was yet to hear anything that wasn't wood.
This was completely stupid.
"What the hell is it, Sammy?"
But before Sam could reply, something dark, shaggy and ten feet tall broke through the trees. Dean looked at the gun in his hands and made a judgment call.
He turned and ran like a bat out of hell.
The thing advanced, slow, heavy tread of crushing, wood-cracking thunks, then hot, moist air rolled down his neck and Dean swore, diving to the side.
He fell through the pines, grunting as his knee connected with a rough cluster of rocks. And he kept on falling.
The hole was large enough for him to sprawl flat. He jammed his elbow on the way down, but at least the landing was soft under his head. The world still whited out for what might have been a few minutes, or an hour, but he was involuntarily practicing his fish impression when his vision cleared to a jagged view of the night sky and the heads of the surrounding trees.
The crickets chirped in solitary chorus. The thing must have passed him by.
Warm blood was running down his knee, his shoulder throbbed in contrition when he tried to pull himself up and decided to start with his other arm instead. It was a slow, ginger effort filled with lots of groaning, but eventually Dean got himself sitting upright.
He slouched with a huff of effort before looking up the way he had fallen.
It was no rabbit hole, but it wasn’t a cavern either. It was as though one of the trees had been pulled clear of the Earth and all its roots with the surrounding soil had come with it; it would have made a nice burrow. A few inches to the right and he would have cracked his melon open on a significant pile of rocks.
He was just counting his luck when the air shifted around him and a pair of boots materialised at his knee.
Dean looked up the length of cargo pants, denim jacket and – oh, he must have been concussed after all.
Gabriel held out his hand.
“Come with me if you want to live.”
Dean blinked at the hand and then at the archangel’s too-serious-to-be-taken-seriously expression.
“Pretty sure I’m going to live through this one,” Dean slurred, considering his scraped knee and dislocated shoulder. “Though I could use a hand up –“
He laughed abruptly, realising his mistake.
“Asking my hallucination to help me up… not as easy as Eddie made it look in Fight Club.”
Gabriel had cocked his head to the side, curious smile narrowed at him.
“It’s good to be missed – but I can do one better than a hand up,” Gabriel said and Dean had an idea what came next when the angel smirked like the trickster and snapped his fingers.
Dean’s elbows sunk into a thick, rich duvet and the hole in the ground changed to a warm, yellow hotel room judging by the card-activated power slot by the tall door. Bright light spilled from the open, polished bathroom and Dean caught the edge of what looked like a sauna before his arms gave out and he fell back.
His entire body melted. It was not possible for a bed to feel this good. He felt as though if he stayed in more motels with beds like this, he wouldn’t need medical attention ever again. Not as long as the duvets were this thick and the pillows were this soft….
Then somebody snapped their fingers in his ear and his shoulders jerked.
Ow.
He’d been trying to forget about that.
Gabriel was smirking down at him, standing beside the bed when Dean cracked an eye open.
“Sam?” Dean asked.
Gabriel waved it off like it was yesterday’s news, heard and handled.
“He’s fine.”
Dean looked him up and down.
“Are you real?” The duvet felt real under his palms, something patterned and firm, but Dean had his share of lucid concussions in his time. The air was clean and crisper than anything since the green room, but the only thing that softened that association was the vague perfume of hotel shampoo.
Gabriel’s smirk softened and he sat by Dean’s arm on the bed.
“What do you think this is, a dream date?” Gabriel teased, hand at Dean's shoulder.
The throbbing ache evaporated under his fingertips. Dean’s eyes slipped shut as Gabriel’s hand moved to his knee where the denim was clinging, heavy and cooling to his skin with blood.
“I don’t dream about you,” Dean said. “You’re dead.”
He breathed out through his nose, tightness easing in his chest and he knew when he looked down there wouldn’t even be a tear in his jeans where he’d dived against the rock. He moved his knee experimentally, drawing his leg up on the bed as Gabriel’s weight shifted.
Gabriel nudged his shoulder.
“Move over.”
Gabriel lay down on his back beside him, hands steepling over his chest and Dean studied the light fixture over the bed, eyes tearing at the corners from the light’s intensity.
“That’s a damn ugly lampshade,” Dean said, and then Gabriel snapped his fingers and the light in the room dimmed to something more sympathetic. Suddenly, there was no need to squint. “… Thanks.”
He felt Gabriel turn on the bed and knew the angel was looking at him.
“Wasn’t so hard to say, was it?”
Dean could hear his smile and cocked an eyebrow in his direction, too lazy to look him in the eye.
“Was that monster one of yours?”
Gabriel shrugged, a brush of denim against Dean’s shoulder.
“Boogeyman. Big foot, whatever you want to call him. He wasn’t eating the children. I sent him to find the thing that did – thought you boys were still off shooting bigger game.”
Like my brothers.
Dean hummed at that new information and looked back at the lightshade. Now that he could see it, it looked like one of those Asian pagodas with its pointed corners and long, sweeping top.
“I could visit you in your dreams, if you wanted,” Gabriel said.
Dean looked up and around the room. His hands were folded on his stomach.
“You sure that’s not what this is?”
Dean turned his head, duvet sliding smooth against his ear and cheek. Gabriel’s eyes were green and Dean watched, waiting for the glimmer of something other that would reveal the angel beneath, but Gabriel felt as simple and solid as any other human. Dean watched the angel watch him, hazel green human, until Gabriel’s gaze searched his face, dropped to his mouth.
“How much do you want, Dean?” Gabriel asked, as though they were in a marketplace and one of them was behind a cashier.
Dean snorted a laugh, not even noticing the turn in conversation and that should have been his first clue.
“Hell, I want everything.”
“I’m real,” Gabriel promised, low and quiet. He smiled and shook his head once. “You don’t want to know how.”
“No, I really don’t,” Dean agreed and tugged the arm of Gabriel’s jacket half-heartedly.
Gabriel went up on one shoulder and tilted in as far as he had to for Dean to lean up and catch his mouth. He heard Gabriel’s sharp inhale as Dean pulled him back down, almost falling against Dean’s chest and he snickered when their teeth clashed. Gabriel smiled and Dean chuckled when the angel ducked in to kiss him lightly, twice, and the third time Dean’s mouth opened, brushing his tongue against Gabriel’s. Gabriel’s fingers curled against his chest, kissing him slow and deep and when Gabriel pulled back, Dean felt the tap of fingers against his collarbone.
“And that, Dean-o, is how you know you’re dreaming,” Gabriel breathed against his lips, quicksilver smile and kissed him again.
Dean woke up on the inhale.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-01-05 05:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-05 08:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-05 06:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-05 08:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-05 07:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-05 08:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-05 10:29 pm (UTC)>>
<<
*grins hugely at you* OMG I absolutely adored this, thank you so much!! I love the way you sort of...drift through the story, and iy almost feels like a dream, yet even despite that, the ending really jumps at you. ♥ ♥ ♥
*snuggles forever*
no subject
Date: 2011-01-06 12:02 am (UTC)Okay, you got me, it was Gabriel. XP
I've never written these two together before, I'm SO glad you liked it and the right tone came across it - a bit surreal, but still tangible and it wasn't even important to understand if these two were established together or not.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-06 04:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-06 04:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-06 01:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-06 08:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-07 05:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-07 05:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-09 08:51 am (UTC)Are you going to attend the Australian Open? I think I won't this year as I will go to NZ from 18 to 28.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-09 08:58 am (UTC)Yep, heading to the Open in a couple of weeks! [fist pump for the win] I'm looking forward to the time off, but enjoy NZ! I never get tired of going over there, are you visiting the north or south island?
no subject
Date: 2011-01-09 10:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-09 10:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-09 11:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-02 01:51 pm (UTC)I liked this. Going to my memories. :D
By the way, assuming you're up to date on watching the show (if not, stop reading): Was I the only one who saw Gabriel in the last episode? Please, someone tell me they caught him too!
no subject
Date: 2011-03-02 01:55 pm (UTC)I didn't see Gabriel in the last episode, but there was a scene when the extra was going shotgun massacre on everyone and the Director of Photography was weaving from the path of all the bullets. Apparently, this was an homage to Richard Speight Jr who was always dodging weapons people were throwing at him. Is this what you meant?
no subject
Date: 2011-03-02 04:56 pm (UTC)Damn. I was thinking it was him. I've got three reason why he should come back. One, he's awesome, he's needed. Two, had it been him, it would have made sense that he wasn't back, because he was stuck, which meant that now he was free. Three, or he could still be brought back. Not the usual 'Cas is back' by god, but... we've got a Goddess pro in blood magic that still has a vial of him. She could use it. Or she could have had, already.
Or you know, I'm pretty sure the man has one or two hoxcruses statched somewhere. :p