look at all the booze

2

This was taken with Robert’s mobile on his birthday on Mauritius. And yes, the flower chains are kinda out of place and Robert’s shirt is horrific. Liv is very proud of her presents :)

O Mama Don't You Cry - Zach Werenski

Originally posted by goldanklebonecups

Notes: look its not a smut for once (and ima wait on a few smuts, write a few non-smuts for you all then post bc :) ) but yeah, here’s a sUPER cute Zach Werenski one and its a lil fluffy with a bit of a grumpy zach so be excited!! also i feel like my titles have nothing to do with the story and im sorry

Warnings: Mentions of underage drinking

Mentions: Dylan Larkin, Jack Eichel, Auston Matthews, Noah Hanifin, Charlie McAvoy, a few more

Requested By @werenzki (also check out her imagines bc if you have time to binge-read, would definitely recommend!!): I’d love who when the reader is at some party or something and she’s interested in zach werenski but he thinks she’s into Dylan Larkin so he gets sort of awkward and jealous but by the end of the night she turns her attention to Zach and it’s all cute and stuff..

Up Next: idk its a surprise y’all

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After Ever after (Part 2)

Robert Small X MC Daddy
Part 1 | Part 2 
Warning: This part contains so much smut, I hope you’re all ready for this bad boy (dad).

To finally end our cleaning frenzy, we headed towards Robert’s room. He leads the way and opens the door “After you” he says with a suave voice; really hot I must say. “The final boss huh?” I said as I looked around the room with clothes (underwear), booze, leftovers, and clutter all over the floor. “Honestly, I don’t know how you lived in this mess.” I said as I started to pick up empty whiskey bottles and beer cans. “I don’t know either, but what I’m sure about is that I’m tired living like this” He sounded so dead serious and I’m sure he is.Slowly the guilt came in, I should not have made that comment. I decided to say nothing more and just continue cleaning. I’m sure Robert appreciated the gesture.

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Behind The Story S2 | Pt. 13

Summary: Jensen tells the truth of what he thinks it happened in Rome.

Author: sleepywinchester {prev; deanwinchester-af}

Characters: Jensen, Reader, Jared, Gen and Cast Cameos.

Pairings: Single!Jensen x Actress!Reader (Nina Dobrev = Faceclaim)

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: Hella Angst. 

Disclaimer: NO HATE TOWARDS DANNEEL!

Note: Guys… Don’t hate me? ITALICS IS FLASHBACK.

Title: It’s All Too Much. 

MASTERLIST 

After having another successful and fun weekend with the fans in Rome, the cast decided to go out one last time to celebrate. Jus In Bello was everyone’s favorite convention of the year, they let them sing, curse and even drink booze as they spent quality time with their fans.

“I have to do a toast,” Jensen stood up from his seat, raising the glass of bourbon to the sky.

Everyone turned remained silence as they heard him speak.

“We had a blast,” he said, “thank you for being such an awesome group of people to work. I love y’all!” Jensen shouted.

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Fragments - Part 8 Preview

“You falling asleep on me?” Dean questioned. “Looks like all that booze and food Donna gave you is catching up.”

“No.” You answered back with your eyes half closed, fighting to keep them open and failing.

“I’m gonna let you go, ok?” Dean half whispered, not wanting to startle you in case you did fall asleep. When he got no response he laughed and shook his head, staring at your sleeping face for just a few seconds longer before hovering his thumb over the end call button on his phone.

You rolled and gripped the blanket in your arms, snuggling into it. “Love you, De.” You sighed out, pulling his flannel shirt tighter around yourself.

Dean froze, knowing exactly what he heard and that it was the truth. His heart skipped a beat and he smiled wide, running his finger over your face on the screen. “Love you too, Y/N/N.” He grinned, finally pressing the end call button.

genre ― fluff | fuckboy!au

pairing ― jungkook | reader

synopsis ― Parties and Jungkook are always heard in the same sentence but a Christmas party with hot chocolate instead of cheap beer?


“I don’t care about tradition, you try and get me to kiss you under the mistletoe and I will punch you,”you warned. Not that you expected one to be placed at the front doorstep of the frat house. Then again it’s an easy why for them to makeout with people.

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Someone New (Gabriel x Reader)

Someone New (Gabriel x Reader)
Characters: Gabriel x Reader

Someone New (Gabriel x Reader)
Word Count:  14,655

Summary: You are a hunter who is lured to a case where everything reminds you of your boyfriend Gabriel, who has been dead for 7 years. You’re forced to relive all of your memories with him. Inspired by the song “Someone New” by Banks.

Note: Reposting this with edits made to correct typos. 

Originally posted by fand0maniac

The nightclub was rundown, set in a dark, dingy part of Denver that Y/N tried to avoid when she could, but her job led her to this area more than she would like. She walked up the sidewalk, head down, not making eye contact with the locals until she reached the entrance to The Lemon Drop Nightclub and Cantina. The door was red wood with a giant swirly lollipop for a handle. Y/N shook her head as she pulled it open and walked inside.
     Her senses were immediately assaulted by loud pop music and bright colored lights spinning from the ceiling, the walls were covered with candy ornaments of all kinds from old vintage tin signs to neon versions of Kit Kats, Twix, and Butterfingers. Gabe would love it here. The thought came into her head unbidden, as did the quick, sharp stab of pain when she thought of him. Taking a deep breath, she wrinkled her nose to keep any tears at bay and focused on the task at hand. She was a hunter, damn it, and she couldn’t afford to be seen as weak.
     When she was sure her emotions were in check and her eyes had adjusted to the light, she made her way to the bar. The bartender was tall and muscular, his arms bulging out of a sleeveless Slayer t-shirt. His long black hair was slicked back into a tight ponytail. Wiping a glass with a questionable rag, he caught Y/N’s eye and gave her a backwards nod. “What can I getcha?”
     “I was looking for Jillian Banks?” A knowing look entered the man’s eyes as he grinned widely.
     “You a fan, then?” He raised his eyebrows and Y/N sighed.
     “I’m here to talk to her about the…problems…she’s been having here.” It was her turn to grin when his smile faltered. “You wouldn’t know anything about those, would you?”
     “Look, i don’t know what you’ve heard…are you a cop or something, cuz if you’re a cop, don’t I get to have my attorney present or some shit like that?”
     “Number one, I’m not a cop. Number two, you don’t look like someone who has an attorney on retainer.” The man stared at her and Y/N wasn’t sure if he was too nervous to speak or didn’t understand the word “retainer.” Sighing again, she pulled a business card out of the back pocket of her jeans and slid it across the bar to him. “I’m a paranormal investigator. She contacted me, If you could point me in her direction or let her know I’m here, that would be great.” He picked up the card, checked it out, and gave a her a brief, unreadable look before saying he’d be right back.
      Y/N leaned against the bar and looked at her reflection in the mirrored wall between all the bottles of booze. I look like shit, she thought, catching how her long Y/H/C hair fell from her head in lank, uninspired waves and her Y/E/C eyes were weary and sad. Not able to stand the sight any longer, she turned and faced the club, resting her elbows on the padded edge of the counter. She watched the patrons dance and laugh and drink, all seemingly having the time of their lives. I used to be like them, she thought wearily, as memories came flooding back.
      Memories of hustling pool in dive bars all over the country with the Winchester Brothers. Their favorite ploy was using the fact that she was a girl to make knuckle headed drunks think she was a pushover, when in fact the only person who had ever been able to beat her was Sam. Sam freakin’ WInchester, the man who texted her earlier tonight with this case. Sam Winchester, the man who held her and comforted her after she lost everything. It didn’t matter where he told her to go for a case, she would do it. She owed him her life. So many times over. She was thinking of texting him a picture of this godawful place when the music changed. Taylor Swift’s “All You Had To Do Was Stay” began playing and her heart constricted painfully.
      Everything she had wanted to forget came sweeping back. Gabriel. His ridiculous plan to leave her and fight his brother to keep her and everyone else safe. The fight they had about it before he left, the horrible, horrible things she said to him as he walked out the door.
     The look in Sam’s eyes when he had to tell her that Gabriel had been killed by his brother.
     This stupid song always made her think of Gabe. Some nights when she felt like wallowing, she would put it on repeat and cry into a glass of Jack Daniels. Most of the time, she simply avoided the song but here…there was nothing to do unless she wanted to kick the jukebox into submission. “Let me remind you this was what you wanted (Oh oh oh)….you ended it…you were all I wanted….”
     “Fuck, come on,” she said out loud, biting her bottom lip hard. She would not give into the memories. Not here, not tonight.
      Not here, not tonight, not here, not tonight.
      That had been her mantra since that night. Y/N would say 97% of the time it worked. Tonight, however, looked to be the time that the 3% reared it’s ugly head. She felt the despair and grief wash over her and she had to sit down on a bar stool so that she didn’t sink to the floor. Even after seven years it was strong enough to knock the wind out of her. She wondered if it would ever get easier; then she realized that deep down, she didn’t want it to. If it did, that meant she was moving on, forgetting Gabriel, the only man she had ever truly loved. She couldn’t do that, not to him.
       Y/N met Gabriel ten years ago while she was working a case in Springfield, Ohio with The Winchesters. He was deep in his Trickster persona and messing with Sam and Dean’s minds, causing them to fight more than usual. Y/N thought she could get the drop on the bad guy while they were bickering. She trailed him to his apartment after he left the university where he was posing as a janitor. With a stake dipped in his victim’s blood hidden in her oversized purse, she waited until he was inside before making her move.
        She had been watching him long enough to realize that women were a weakness of his, so she put on her tightest jeans and her lowest-cut shirt before fluffing her hair out and walking boldly up to his apartment door. He answered almost immediately after she knocked and she had to wonder if he knew she was coming. “Well, hello, pretty lady. How can I help you?” The trickster let his eyes roam up and down her body as he grinned and leaned against the door, still wearing his grey janitor’s jumpsuit but the front was unzipped, showing off a crisp white t-shirt underneath.
        “Um, hi, my car broke down outside and…I…uh…” when his eyes made their way back up to hers, she suddenly lost her train of thought. They were the most brilliant shade of gold, almost like sunlight streaming through a bottle of whiskey. She had never seen eyes like that before; she felt like she was drowning in them. Focus, Y/N, she told herself sternly, pulling her gaze away. That was when she saw the cocky smile, as if he could tell what she was thinking. “Uh…yeah, my car. It broke down and my phone is dead. Could I use yours?” She flashed him her most innocent grin and pushed her chest forward. His eyes flicked down quickly and she knew her ploy was working.
        “Not from around here, are you,” he asked, his voice smooth as velvet.  She shook her head. “And I’m on the third floor. What made you pick my apartment?”
        “I saw you pull in and I thought you looked nice,” she shrugged, raising her eyebrows and biting her bottom lip. “Please? I just need to call my friend so he can come pick me up.” The trickster stared at her for a beat too long, making her skin break out in goose pimples. Those eyes were dangerous. Then he stepped back and swept his arm gallantly.
        “Who I am to turn a pretty woman away in her time of need. Please, be my guest.” Y/N rushed past him and into the apartment, taking it all in quickly. It was small; a tidy living area held only a television set, a recliner, and a TV tray. It led into an open kitchen. She noticed the counters were covered in sweets: pies, cakes, and cookies were everywhere.
        “Having a party,” she asked, nodding her head to the bounty. He laughed, shutting the door firmly.
        “I have a sweet tooth and a love for cooking shows,” he laughed. “I end up cooking everything they make on there. Want a cookie or something?”
        “No, thanks, I’ll be out of your hair shortly if you’ll just point me to the phone.” To her surprise, he still had a landline hanging on the wall in the hallway. It was dark and she couldn’t see past where she stood. Hoping nothing jumped out at her, she dialed Dean’s number.
       “Y/N, where are you,” he barked in greeting.
       “I’m at an apartment building at 5th and Grant,” she replied. “My car broke down. I think it’s the carburetor.”
       “Is he there with you now,” he asked, his voice brisk with a touch of worry. He recognized their code immediately.
       “Yes, he was nice enough to let me use his phone.” She looked over her shoulder and smiled at the trickster, who was standing a few feet away. He raised his eyebrows at her.
       “Do you have a weapon?”
       “I do.”
       “Be careful. We’re on our way.”
       “Ok, thanks.” She hung up and turned around slowly. He was standing just a little closer than he had been. “Thank you. I’ll just go wait in my car now.”
       “Are you sure you want to wait out there? It’s chilly.” His eyes were back on hers and she felt her stomach flip. She didn’t understand her reaction to him. He wasn’t her type of guy at all. She normally went for the tall, manly, dark haired muscular guys who were teddy bears underneath. Like Dean. This guy was nothing like her hunter - shortish (she gauged him around 5’8”, 5’9”), with unruly honey colored hair, thin lips, and just the tiniest bit of a belly. Probably from all those sweets, she thought. Not to mention he was a monster. A trickster who had killed innocent people. She had no business even thinking about him the way she was.
        “So, uh, thanks again,” she stammered, walking towards him, her hand on the strap of her purse. “Maybe I will take that cookie. One for the road, you know?” He winked at her, turning to grab her a cookie from the kitchen. That was when she made her move, sliding the stake from her purse and rushing up behind him. He shocked her when he turned so fast, grabbing her wrist and forcing the weapon from her grip. It clattered uselessly on the floor. He pushed her up against the wall, pressing his whole body against her, holding her captured hand above her head. She couldn’t breathe, knowing for sure that she had failed and she would be his next victim.
       “You reek of hunter,” he said, his face inches from hers. She could feel his hot breath on her face and it smelled of butterscotch. Her belly fluttered against her will. He cupped her face in his free hand, running a thumb along her lower lip. “A sexy hunter, sure but a hunter nonetheless.” Y/N tried to tell herself that her heart was pounding a mile a minute because death was imminent and not because he was so close to her, those whiskey eyes peering into hers with a scorching heat. He had to be causing these sensations; he was a trickster, after all.
        “Stop it,” she ordered, trying and failing to sound authoritative. Her voice came out in a thick whisper.
        “Stop what,” he asked, all innocence.
       “You’re fucking with my mind. Just kill me and get it over with.” He chuckled and shook his head.
       “Oh, sweetheart, your mind isn’t what I want to fuck.” He never gave her a chance to react to that statement. His lips were on hers in a hard, wet kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth. She found herself responding even though she knew she shouldn’t. He tasted so good though and his body felt right against hers. When she moaned against his kiss, he pulled away just a fraction. “No, I can’t kill you. I’ll be seeing you around, though.” She heard a snap and suddenly everything spun out of control. A few seconds later she found herself in the passenger seat of Dean’s Impala as he sped down the highway.
      “Jesus Christ,” Dean yelled, swerving the car into oncoming traffic before gaining control and righting the wheels before pulling over to the side of the road. “Where the fuck did you come from?”
       “Umm….the trickster made me,” she said, still trying to get her bearings. She was dizzy from the trip to the car, not to mention her lips still buzzed from the kiss and her body was keyed up from his words.
       “So, what, instead of killing you, he snapped you here?” Y/N shrugged. “Maybe he figured you appearing out of nowhere would give me a heart attack and we’d both die.” She laughed at his explanation; it was better to let him think that than tell him what really happened, she decided as she ran her tongue along her bottom lip, still tasting the butterscotch from his kiss.
      As she sat at the bar inside The Lemon Drop, she bit her lip with her tongue, fancying she could still taste him. Knowing that she would never again feel his lips on hers broke her heart all over again. She could feel tears threatening but was saved by the bartender returning. “Okay, Jillian wants to talk to you but it’ll be a while. She’s getting ready for her stage show and she doesn’t let anyone back there while she does so.” Y/N nodded. “She asked me to get you whatever you’d like while you wait.”
      “Shot of Jack and…do you make butter babies?”
      “Absolutely I do,” he grinned.
      “Four of those as well, please.” Y/N knew she was hurting herself by drinking the one drink that reminded her of Gabe but this place seemed to lend itself to memories. Every song that popped up on the jukebox made her think of him. At that moment it was “Bubblegum Bitch” by Marina and the Diamonds. The lyrics always made her think of the different sweet-related nicknames he called her. At first she hated it but they grew on her and now whenever she heard the words “sugar,” “cupcake,” or “gumdrop,” pain squeezed a tight band around her heart.
         The night after the trickster spared her life, Dean tracked him to the university auditorium for the showdown. When the hunter returned with the news that he had killed the trickster, Y/N was actually a little disappointed. She didn’t know if his spell was still lingering but she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Three months later, she walked into her motel room in Los Angeles, dirty and covered in blood. The only thing on her mind was a hot shower and her bed. So when she saw the trickster standing in the middle of the room with a sassy smirk on his face, she stopped cold, not sure if she should be pleased or worried. “Dean killed you,” she said finally, shutting the door behind her. She could see he recognized the motion as she wasn’t going to call for help.
        “Trickster,” he replied, holding his arms out in a “ta-dah” motion. “You gotta get up pretty early in the morning to fool me.”
        “Are you here to finish the job, then?” Y/N hated how her body was responding to being in the same room as her again. She should be angry that he was alive, scared that he was here to kill her but instead she felt herself wanting to be closer to him, feel his lips on hers once more.
       “And which job would that be, cupcake” he asked with a cocky grin, taking a few steps towards her. Every instinct told her to back up, call for the boys, but instead she felt herself walking in his direction. “I already told you I couldn’t kill you. But if you’re referring to the ravishing you so deserve then, yes. I am here to finish the job.” By the time he finished his statement, they were standing inches away from each other. She was so confused. How could she be feeling this heat for a creature that she should be killing?
      “Tell me something and please be honest,” she said, her voice husky with the need to taste his lips. “What I’m feeling for you, is this your doing? Is this a trick?”
     “No.” His answer was so simple that it took her aback. She cocked her head and furrowed her eyebrows at him. His amber eyes were the most serious she had seen them.
     “No?”
     “No.” A thrill coursed through her body when he reached out and grabbed the back of her head, roughly bringing her lips to his. There it was, that butterscotch taste that she had been craving. With one hand she grasped the lapel of his army green jacket while the other hand snaked through his dark blonde hair, trying desperately to pull him closer. When he finally broke contact to let her breathe, he laughed.
     “What’s so funny,” she asked.
     “You’re a hunter, I’m a trickster. This shouldn’t be happening.” He shook his head before kissing her lips again, this time softly. Was it her imagination or did the softer kiss cause her toes to curl even more than the desperation? “It’s like someone is playing a trick on me.”
     “Maybe they are. Are there others like you out there?” He clucked her chin with his hand and grinned.
     “Sugar, there is no one else like me. Anywhere.” She returned the smile, amused by his cockiness. “There’s only one explanation then.”
     “What’s that?” The trickster slung an arm around her waist and pulled her tight against him. She exhaled an, “oof!” as she bounced off of his chest. She slid her arms up over his shoulders as he winked at her.
     “You were meant to be mine.”
      You were meant to be mine. Y/N had scoffed when he first uttered those words, she recalled, slamming down the last butter baby shot. She chased it with the Jack then let out a huge sigh. The bartender was watching her, asking with his eyes if she wanted another round. She nodded slightly even though her head was telling her to stay sober. Her heart, however, needed some help getting through the memories that were assaulting her non stop.
       “How can you not believe in destiny,” the trickster had asked after she told him his idea was silly.
        “I believe in free will,” she answered, pulling out of his grip. “I’ve seen so much bad happen to good people…I just can’t believe that things like that were destined to happen to them.”
         “Free will, huh? Ok, here’s a question for you, then.” He snapped his fingers and suddenly, laying on the motel bed was a wooden stake tipped with blood. Her stake that she lost that night. “There’s your weapon. And here’s the monster.” He spread his arms out wide, leaving his whole body vulnerable if she chose to strike. “If you’re not mine…if I’m not yours…if we aren’t meant to be together, kill me.”
         “Dude….what the….”
         “Do it,” he said, his voice gruff, his eyes hard. “Take that stake and plunge it into my heart. Finish what you started.” Y/N stared at him, her mouth agape. He was crazy. “Yeah, maybe I am crazy,” he said, startling her, “but I’m crazy for you. I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve messed with a lot of hunters and I’ve had a lot of women hotter than you…don’t get pissed,” he smiled when she huffed angrily at him. “But you…there’s something about you. Like you were made for me. After all these centuries of just drifting around, suddenly some mortal, some hunter, shows up and I’m done. I don’t want to play tricks on you, I don’t want to kill you. I want to hold you, and kiss you, and…shit, I want to be with you, okay?” His voice had taken on an edge of desperation, as if he needed her to believe what he was saying.
         Y/N walked over to the bed and picked up the stake.  She turned it over in her hands, getting used to the feel of it again. “So if I kill you, like a good hunter should, you’re wrong about destiny?”
        “Dead wrong,” he answered, causing her to laugh. She approached him slowly, the stake pointing out in front of her. She poked him in the belly with the tip lightly.
       “But if I choose not to, emphasis on choose, then somehow that proves that we’re meant to be?”
       “You got it, sugar lips.” She stared at him as she reflected on how her body reacted to him, how that kiss had made her feel. Was he right? Was her person actually a trickster? How screwed up did that make her destiny?
       “God damn it,” she breathed, tossing the stake to the floor where it immediately shimmered and disappeared. “Why you,” she asked, cocking her head to study him.
       “God only knows,” he winked, dropping his arms to his side now that he knew he was safe. They stood in the center of the room, staring at each other for what felt like forever. The trickster had a smug yet pleased look on his face and the longer Y/N looked at it, the crazier it made her. The heat between them was palpable. When she could stand it no longer, she launched herself at him, kissing him with everything she had. He returned the sentiment, his hands twining into her long Y/H/C hair and tugging her head backwards so he could delve deeper into her mouth with his tongue.
       She was overcome with the need to feel him, feel his skin on hers and she started pulling at his clothes; she slid his jacket off then ripped at his black shirt, popping the buttons clean off. He chuckled at her earnestness and returned the favor by pulling her thermal shirt over her head and tossing it to the floor.  He bent his head and kissed the tender flesh above her bra, causing her to moan loudly while she ran her hands over his bare chest and stomach. Y/N grabbed the waistband of his jeans and thumbed the button open, shoving them to the floor. It made her giggle when she saw he was wearing rubber ducky boxers. “What the hell,” she laughed, as she trailed a multitude of kisses down his torso, sinking to her knees. Just as she went to yank the boxers off, she stopped and looked up him.
       “By the way, I’m Y/N.”
       “Yeah, I know,” he chuckled, his eyes hot as he stared down at her.
       “What should I call you?”
       “Gabe,” he replied, his face softening a little. “You can call me Gabe.
       “Gabe,” Y/N whispered, desperate as a prayer. She finished off her third line of shots, feeling sufficiently liquored up to remember the sex. The first few weeks were amazing; every time Gabe touched her, it felt like her skin was ablaze.  Not to mention that having to hide their relationship from Sam and Dean, whom she was still hunting with, made it exciting. The first time they were almost caught was when Dean showed up at the door, already half-drunk, holding a six-pack of beer and looking for some company. That had been part of her relationship with Dean from the beginning but now she didn’t even think of him that way at all. Her brain, heart, body, and soul was completely saturated by her trickster. Y/N kept the door open just enough to tell him she had someone in the room with her; understanding dawned quickly and he tried to peek in. “You gonna introduce me?”
     “God, no! This is fairly new and besides…you’re scary.” He laughed. “I will take a couple beers, though,” she said, snagging a couple before shutting the door. After that night, Dean would tease her about her new boyfriend, wanting to know details, wanting to meet him but she was able to put him off, distract him with liquor and, in desperate times, porn.
      After a few months, her relationship with Gabe cooled to where some nights they were simply happy to be in each other’s company. Y/N’s favorite thing to do was snuggle with him on a lumpy motel room bed and watch old movies. He would sneak himself into the movie and she enjoyed trying to figure out where he would appear. One night while Y/N and the boys were on the trail of a Rugaru in New Orleans, she was chilling with Gabe, watching The Thin Man when there was a loud pounding at her door. “Y/N, we gotta go,” Sam yelled as she padded barefoot across the room. “A body was found in the French Quarter!” She opened the door, peeking out as was her norm now.
     “Give me a sec, I’ll be right out, okay?”
     “That guy here again,” Dean asked from behind his brother. She nodded, starting to close the door. When a big, beefy, tattooed hand appeared above her head and flung the door open, it startled not only her but the brothers as well. “Whoa,” Dean breathed, craning his head back to take in the full view. Y/N turned around to see what the hell was going on and had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.
     Gabe had transformed into a giant biker dude. He was 6’7” and easily 350 pounds with long, black hair and a full dark beard. He was wearing ripped jeans, black boots with chains around them, a Megadeth t-shirt and a denim vest covered in patches. Every inch of skin that was showing was tattooed and he had huge silver skull rings on three fingers. “What’s up guys,” he boomed. “You must be Sam and Dean. Y/N’s told me a lot about you.”
       “Uh, yeah, hi,” Sam stuttered back, obviously not used to having to look up to make eye contact. Y/N would have bet her life savings that Gabe did that just to screw with him. “I’d like to say the same but Y/N’s kinda played you close to the vest. We don’t even know your name.” The trickster grabbed Y/N and pulled her into a tight side hug.
       “It’s Gabe. But you can call me Mad Dog. And, yeah, she said you guys were scary but you look like all right to me. Put ‘er there!” He stuck out his free hand to shake Sam and Dean’s, gripping tighter than necessary according to their grimaces. Y/N knew Gabe was enjoying this way too much and it was time to put an end to it.
       “Okay, okay, you know my big secret now…”
       “Emphasis on the big,” Dean muttered, earning a glare from Y/N.
       “Give me a second to get my stuff together and I’ll be right there, ok?” Both men just stood, rooted to the spot, staring at Gabe. “Okay,” she repeated, this time louder. The brothers jerked out of their trance and nodded, walking away as she shut the door, “And you!” She rounded on her boyfriend with hot eyes, her index finger poking him in his hairy, tattooed chest. “What the hell was that?”
      “They were starting to get suspicious of me so I let them see me,” he replied, laughing as he shimmered back to his normal form. “This way, when you say you’re with me, they won’t come around bothering you. I cut a pretty impressive figure, right?” Y/N sighed; it was impossible to stay mad at him when he grinned at her like that, the right corner of his mouth tipping up roguishly.  
      “Okay, yeah, I think you shocked the shit out of them, I’ll give you that.” Shaking her head, she rushed over to stick her feet into her boots and grab her hunting bag. “I gotta go. Will you be here when I get back?”
      “Absolutely.” She walked over to him, slipping her arms around his waist to hug him. He kissed the top of her head. “Be careful.”
      That was always the last thing he would say to her before she left on a hunt and she to him when he would leave to dole out just desserts to deserving humans.
       Except that last time.
       That thought had her opening her mouth to flag down the bartender for another round but was stopped by a sweet voice in her ear. “Hi, Y/N?” Turning around, she came face to face with the prettiest woman she had ever see. Tall and curvy with shiny blonde hair that floated around her cherubic face in a cloud, she had big blue eyes with lashes a mile and a half long and pouty lips painted blood red. She was wearing a gold dress that sparkled in the rainbow lights of the club and matching heels, giving her an extra five inches of height. Y/N figured that even out of the shoes, she would tower over her. As if I didn’t feel bad enough about myself, she thought, this woman looks like a goddess.
       “Yes, you’re Jillian?”
       “I am. Thank you for coming.” Jillian sat down on a stool beside her and nodded at the bartender. Without a word, he brought her a tall, fruity drink in a hurricane glass topped by a hot pink umbrella and a lime green twisty straw. She took a long sip, closing her eyes and savoring the drink before looking over at Y/N. “So, Sam said you could help me.”
       “I hope so,” she answered. “Why don’t you tell me a little about what’s been happening.”
       “Well, it feels like I’m being watched 24/7,” she started, giving a little shiver. Jillian rubbed her hands over her bare shoulders. “But the creepy stuff, the real creepy stuff only happens when I’m here.”
       “What’s the creepy stuff?”
       “Things go missing and then appear in a place they should never be…things hurl themselves at me.” She propped a shapely leg on the rung of Y/N’s barstool and lifted up the hem of her dress, revealing an ugly bruise on her calf. “This happened about five days ago…an amp came sliding across the stage during one of my sets and slammed into me.” She removed her leg, holding out her left arm for view. She pushed her thick diamond bracelet up; underneath it was a long, angry red scratch. “This happened yesterday. I don’t even know what caused it. Or what I did to cause it.” Jillian’s voice caught and Y/N looked up to see the singer’s eyes filling with tears.
        “Don’t cry, you’ll ruin your perfect make-up,” Y/N smiled, covering her hand with hers. Jillian sniffed and giggled. “It sounds like an angry spirit. But I can help you with it,” she hurried to say as Jillian’s mouth dropped in fear.
        “You can, you really can?” She gripped Y/N’s hand tight. “You can make this stop?”
        “I can. That’s what I do.”
        “Thank you!” The woman jumped up and threw her arms around Y/N’s neck. “Thank you so much!” The hunter couldn’t help but laugh and after all the sad she had been wading through, it felt good. “Where do we start?”
        “Well, I’ll need to check this place out when it’s empty, do a sweep with my EMF meter. I’ll need to do some research on this club as well, see if anyone died violently. And of course, I’ll need to ask you more questions, figure out why this spirit has linked itself to you.”
        “Wow, okay,” Jillian breathed, pulling away from the hug. “It’s time for my set but if you want to stick around and listen, you can question me afterwards.” She smiled brilliantly and Y/N grinned back.
        “Sounds like a plan.” The goddess sauntered away, taking her drink with her. With nothing to distract her now, Y/N’s ears tuned in immediately to the jukebox. Kelly Clarkson’s “Behind These Hazel Eyes” was playing and the hunter just shook her head. What were the odds that every song this place played would remind her of Gabe?
          They had been seeing each other for a little over a year when everything changed. She and the Winchesters were hunting a band of shapeshifters in New Orleans and had tracked them to an abandoned warehouse down by the docks. Y/N was going in as lead with the brothers flanking her about six feet back, guns drawn. As she passed through the first set of doors, she paused to let her eyes adjust to the darkness. The area looked clear and she could see a second set of doors just to her left. She slowly and quietly picked her way over the gravel floor, motioning for Sam and Dean to follow. She was about five feet away from the entrance when an explosion rocked the warehouse.
         Y/N felt herself flying backwards through the air; she landed on the ground hard. All the air left her body and she felt as if she were on fire. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t see, she couldn’t hear. She tried to call for the boys, make sure they were okay, but she wasn’t sure if her voice was working either. She tried to sit up, assess the damage but she couldn’t move. Fear started to wrap itself around her as she swiveled her eyes, trying to see someone, something…anything.
        Suddenly, Sam’s face was above hers. He was dirty and bloody but he was upright. His mouth was moving; it looked like he was yelling her name but Y/N couldn’t hear anything but the obnoxious ringing in her ears. Sam grabbed her shoulders and a whole new pain shot through her body; she think she screamed but she couldn’t be sure. He immediately let go as Dean appeared above her next to his brother. They both looked worried, scared. Sam had just pulled his cell phone out of his jacket pocket to presumably call for help when there was a brilliant flash of light and Gabe showed up behind them. “Gabe…” She couldn’t tell if the whisper actually came out of her mouth or not but he shoved the Winchesters aside and was kneeling at her side.
        “Y/N, baby, oh God, baby, hold on, I’m here, I’m right here.”  Through the fog of pain, she realized she was hearing his voice in her head. It was comforting, knowing he was with her. With her in her last moments. She had accepted this and was happy that she would see the face she loved before she died. She tried to smile at him, tell him how she felt. “No! You will not die, not if I can help it!”  It didn’t surprise her that he could read her thoughts. She started to tell him how much she loved him when Sam grabbed Gabe by the collar of his coat and yanked him up, away from her. She didn’t know what they were saying but Sam was angry, yelling at Gabe. Her trickster simply snapped his fingers and the boys were gone. He turned back to her, kneeling at her side again.
        “This might hurt but just hold on to me, okay, sugar? Just hold on.” Gabe put her arms over his shoulders as he leaned over her. At first all Y/N knew was the most intense pain she had ever felt. The bright golden light surrounding her pressed against her and put out a warmth that eked into every pore of her body, softening the pain molecule by molecule until it was completely gone. Y/N sighed and let her body go limp against Gabe’s chest as he held her to him. “Come on, baby, let’s get you somewhere safe.” She realized that she was actually hearing him talk now, it wasn’t just in her head.
       “Gabe, you….saved me.” Her throat was raw; the words scraped out painfully. He kissed her forehead, letting his lips linger there for a couple of seconds.
       “Of course I did. I couldn’t lose you. I love you, Y/N, you’re my world.” She was so tired, all she wanted to do was close her eyes and sleep for a year but her trickster just told her what she had been yearning to hear for months. He loved her.
       “You love me…Gabe, you love me?”
       “I do, I love you more than anything.”
       “I love you, too,” she whispered. She lifted her face to his and he kissed her lips gently.
       “Let’s get you out of here.” He picked her up, cradling her in his arms and carrying her out of the warehouse. As they walked outside, Sam and Dean immediately besieged them. “She’s okay, guys, she’s gonna be fine,” Gabe said before they could ask any questions.
       “Y/N, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I should have taken the lead,” Dean said, grabbing her hand in his.
       “Don’t blame yourself, Dean. It’s okay,” Y/N said weakly, trying to smile at him.
       “Put her in the Impala,” Sam demanded, his voice angry. “We’ll get her to a hospital.”
      “She doesn’t need a hospital,” Gabe answered firmly. “All she needs is me. I will take care of her.” He started to walk away from the boys then turned his head to look over his shoulder at them. “We’ll be in her motel room if you want to see her when you get back.” She heard the snap, felt the dizziness and she was suddenly in her motel room, Gabe laying her down on the bed. “Close your eyes and rest, cupcake,” he directed, his voice soft, smooth like velvet. She wanted to argue, wanted to ask him how he saved her but her eyes were heavy…so heavy….
       When she awoke, she felt like she had been asleep for a hundred years. But she also felt amazing; there was no pain anywhere and she felt clear-minded and alert. She lay there for a few moments, savoring the feeling before forcing herself to remember what had happened. The explosion, the pain, Gabe saving her and snapping her here.
       Gabe saying he loved her.
       She sat up slowly, pushing her hair out of her face. There was her trickster, sitting at her bedside, a smile on his lips. “Good morning sleepy head,” he said, standing from his chair and sitting on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?”
        “Good,” she answered. “I feel good.” She reached out and covered his hand in hers, squeezing tightly. “Thank you for saving me.”
        “You don’t need to keep thanking me, Y/N,” he replied, leaning in and kissing her temple. “It was a completely selfish act. I couldn’t bear the thought of existing without you.” Her heart melting, she threw her arms around him and kissed him thoroughly. Just as she pulled away, the door to her motel room flew open and the Winchesters barreled in, looking scared and pissed all at the same time.
        “Hey guys,” Y/N smiled. They pulled up short, obviously shocked at how good she looked and sounded.
        “Are you okay,” Dean asked gruffly, sending a hard look at the man sitting on the bed next to her.
        “I’m fine, I feel great.”
        “Took you guys long enough,” Gabe laughed. Y/N watched both brothers’ jaws clench and eyes narrow.
        “It felt like it took a week to get here,” Sam growled, “What did you do?”
        “Y/N needed her rest. She almost died. She didn’t need you two muttonheads bothering her.” He smirked at them. “And it was only two days, not a week.”
        “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t stake your ass right here, right now,” Dean grumbled, taking a step towards the bed.
         “Dean, don’t…” Y/N started but the trickster stopped her.        
        “One,” Gabe put his index finger up in the air. “I saved your precious hunting partner. Two, I’m incredibly handsome and three…well…okay, I can’t think of a third reason but…”
        “Three, if you do, I’ll never speak to you again.” All three men swung their eyes to Y/N who looked deadly serious. “The fact that he saved my life should be enough. Maybe you could try thanking him. Unless I don’t mean as much to you as you’ve always said I do.” Both hunters had the grace to look abashed at her words, mumbling half-sincere thank you’s. “That’s better,” she praised with a smile.
         “So, I’ve gotta ask, why would you save Y/N? I mean, she’s a hunter.” Sam looked genuinely curious while Dean looked annoyed at the whole situation.
          “Yeah, and why is a hunter defending a trickster,” the older brother asked, genuinely pissed off.
          “You chuckleheads haven’t figured it out yet,” Gabe asked, laughter tinting his voice.
          “Figured what out,” Dean huffed, narrowing his green eyes. Y/N held her breath as the shimmering started and suddenly Mad Dog the big burly biker was sitting next to her on the bed. He grinned and held his arms out in a “ta-dah” motion. Watching Sam and Dean’s reactions as the realization set in would have been hilarious if it wasn’t so terrifying. As soon as Gabe shimmered back to himself, the boys exploded.
       “What the hell?”
       “Are you fucking kidding me?”
       “All this time?”
       “You’ve been running around with this asshole?”
       “How could you do that do that us, Y/N?”
       Y/N found she would rather deal with Dean and his anger rather than Sam and his disappointment. She fixed her eyes on the older brother and said, “It’s none of your business who I see,” she yelled back.
       “He’s a monster! We kill monsters, we don’t cuddle up with them!”
       “Are you really going to play that card,” she shot back. “Benny.” She waited until Dean’s mouth hardened into a flat line before looking at Sam. “Ruby.” The tall man blushed hot and looked away. “I love Gabe. Love him. And he loves me. And that’s the end of this discussion.” The brothers looked like they both wanted to argue more but Y/N’s expression deterred them. It wasn’t often she got angry with them but when she did, they knew to back off.
       “How were you able to heal her,” Sam asked finally, his voice calm as he stared at the trickster.
       “What kind of a question is that,” Gabe asked. “I brought your precious brother back from the dead, why couldn’t I do something as simple as keeping someone from dying?”
       “What? What the hell?” Dean’s eyes widened as he stared at Sam. “What is he talking about, Sam?”
        “Later.” Sam shook his head without looking at his brother. “So, you love Y/N?”
        “With all my heart.” Sam sighed and shook his head. It was hard to argue with Gabe when he was so sincere. “You’re right, Y/N, we have no right to tell you who you can be with. Just….just be careful.”
        “I will. Thank you Sam.” She swiveled her eyes over to Dean who looked like a spoiled child who was told he needed to finish his spinach before he go out and play. He finally rolled his eyes and muttered, “whatever,” before stalking towards the door. He grabbed the handle then stopped and pointed at Gabe with his middle finger.
       “You. You even think about hurting her, I will stake you so hard.” Without waiting for a reply, he stomped out the door, followed by Sam who still looked baffled by their pairing. When they were alone, Y/N let out a huge sigh.
        “Well, that went well.” Gabe laughed and kissed the side of her head.
        “Thanks for standing up for me.”
        “Of course I stood up for you. You’re mine, remember?” She caressed his cheek and kissed his lips lightly. “So…what did you mean by you brought Dean back from the dead?”
         “Oh…I might have trapped Sam in an alternate universe where he had to watch Dean die every day.” Hs tone was flippant yet he was watching out of the side of his eye for her reaction. She gasped, slapped his chest, then starting laughing.
          “Why? Why would you do that? When did you do that?”
          “Mmm….it was a couple of months ago. I did it because that caveman wouldn’t stop flirting with you.” Gabe wrapped his arms around Y/N and shifted all his weight so that he fell on top of her. She screamed, startled at the sudden position change but settled underneath him, her hands sliding over his shoulders. “Plus, it was a good time to teach Sam a lesson. Dean’s going to die and he needs to know what life without him will be like. It’s getting closer, you know, his crossroads contract.”
         “Yes, I know. I’m trying not to think about it. Isn’t there anything you can do to save him?” Gabe shook his head.
        “Crossroad deals are binding. Even someone like me can’t break them.” He kissed the tip of her nose before pushing himself up and crawling off of the bed.
       “Where are you going,” she said, pouting just a little. He stood in the middle of the room and stared at her, his expression all kinds of serious.
       “Look, I need to tell you something. I’ve wanted to for a while now but tonight seems like the right time.” As Gabe took a deep breath, Y/N sat up so she could see him better. “An ordinary trickster, well, he can’t do the things that I do. I’m different…because…” A soft, golden glow began to emanate from his body, growing brighter by the second. His eyes began to glow blue and suddenly, a pair of golden wings unfurled from behind him. “…I’m an angel.”
       “Oh my God,” she gasped, unable to take her eyes off of the wings. They were huge, the feathers quivering with tiny electrical pulses, glowing with a light of their own.
       “Not just any angel, either,” he continued, taking a step towards her. “I’m Gabriel.”
       “The archangel,” she breathed.
       “The one and only.” Y/N stared at him for a while, taking everything in. Every time she opened her mouth to speak, she ended up closing it again because she didn’t really know what to say, how to react. “Are you okay? Is this too much for you?”
       “No….no….it’s, well, it is a lot to take in. You’re an archangel, for crying out loud. I grew up hearing about you in Sunday School.” She chuckled and shook her head, a baffled look coloring her features. “If I had told crabby Miss Parkerson then that Gabriel the archangel was my soul mate she would have stuck me in the corner for blasphemy!”
       “So. this doesn’t frighten you off? You still want to be with me?” Y/N was shocked to hear worry in his voice. She crawled off of the bed and walked up to him, sliding her arms over his shoulders and linking her hands behind his neck, careful not to touch the wings that were shooting tiny sparks between the feathers.
        “You’re mine. I’m yours. Forever. Wasn’t that the deal?”
        “It was indeed.” Gabe rested his forehead on hers, his eyes, now returned to the whiskey color Y/N loved so much, stared into hers tenderly. She could have stayed there, in that embrace, forever.
        The pain of remembering that night was still sharp after all these years and it cut her in places she thought were scarred over. She caught the bartender’s eye and signaled for another round. When Kelly Clarkson was done singing, the lights dimmed and the patrons of the club started applauding, gathering around the stage on the east end. A tall thin man with lanky dark hair dressed in a black suit with a shite shirt and red skinny tie came out and strapped an acoustic guitar around him. He started to play a soft melody that Y/N recognized as Lana Del Rey’s Born To Die. She grunted in disbelief at the opening song choice and downed the last of her shots. This was just getting ridiculous.
        When Jillian took the stage, the crowd went wild and it seemed like the number of patrons had tripled in the last few seconds. She smiled beatifically and walked the length of the stage, touching hands with fans before beginning to sing into the silver bejeweled microphone. The first note quieted the crowd as her voice floated through the air. The group swayed as one as if they were in a trance. Y/N immediately thought siren but shook her head of that silly notion; the siren’s song was transmitted through saliva and it wasn’t like Jillian was out there licking people.
       Y/N watched the crowd, looking to see if they all appeared human or maybe her vengeful spirit was wandering among them. She heard one girl say that she sounded like an angel, causing her to start laughing. The laugh caught in her throat and finished as a sob.
        Gabriel was not a singer. He tried but he sounded like Scuttle from The Little Mermaid. “Where did the expression ‘sings like an angel’ come from if you can’t sing,” Y/N would tease him. He would just sing louder at her until she covered her ears and begged for mercy. She missed those times most, the fun times when she could forget that she was a hunter and he was a trickster and an angel.
        Like her, he had a job to do. He still meted out just desserts to those who deserved them, even if it was her hunting partners. Almost two years after they discovered she was seeing him, they disappeared off the face the planet for a few days. Bobby couldn’t track them, Castiel couldn’t find them. And then Cas vanished as well. She called Gabe, asking if he had a hand in this and he told her he did, that they were fine, he’d send them back soon. They just had to learn a lesson. Again. So she waited.
         And waited.
        After three days, she tried to call Gabe but he didn’t answer. Now she was worried. He always answered, no matter what he was doing. She took a chance and dialed Dean’s phone. When he picked up, she wasn’t sure if she felt relieved or more scared. They wouldn’t hurt Gabe, would they? “Where are you,” he barked. “We need to have a conversation, you and I.”
        “I’m at The Bluebird on 4th, room 27,” she answered, now more scared then ever. She tried Gabe time and again with no luck until Dean pounded on her door. She pulled it open and stood back, knowing he was going to storm in and she was right. “Are you guys okay,” she ventured, shutting the door after looking behind him and seeing no Sam.
        “Oh, we’re just peachy,” he snarled, his voice on the brink of being a shout. His eyes were brimming with anger, his jaw was clenched and his hands were balled into fists. For a split second, Y/N had to wonder if she should be worried about her safety. “That douchebag boyfriend of yours is a freaking archangel!” Now he did shout. But she was more surprised by the fact that Gabe had finally told them his secret.
        “Yeah…” Dean rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air.
        “And you freaking knew! Of course you knew! How long have you known?” Dean kept his distance, maybe, she thought, because he was so angry he just might lash out physically at her and he didn’t really want that on his conscience.
        “Since the night he saved me after the explosion,” she answered quietly. Dean closed his eyes as he absorbed the fact that she had known for two years. His fists clenched tighter before he took a deep breath and opened his eyes.
         “And you didn’t tell us why?”
         “It wasn’t my secret to tell.”
         “It wasn’t your…Jesus Christ, Y/N, you could have saved us a lot of trouble by telling us this when he told you!”
         “He asked me not to,” she said, bravely taking a step towards the angry hunter. “Besides, you wouldn’t have believed me then. That was well before Cas showed up. You would have thought he was tricking me.” Dean opened his mouth to argue but she could see he knew she was right. The anger seemed to leave his body with a sigh. “Is he okay,” she asked quietly. “Is Gabe okay?”
          “Yeah, yeah, we left him in a circle of holy fire but he’s otherwise unharmed.” Y/N could tell that he was annoyed but she didn’t know if it was by her question or the fact that Gabriel was still kicking.
         “Where’s Sam?”
         “In the car. He didn’t really want to talk to you right now.”
         “Ouch.”
         “Well, your boyfriend put him through a lot. A lot more than me, actually.”
         “I’m sorry. What was the reason for all of it?”
         “To tell us to play our roles in the apocalypse.” Dean was starting to get worked up again so Y/N closed the gap between them and grabbed his hands in hers.
          “Damn him,” she exclaimed. “I’ve asked him and asked him to see our side of things. But for eons he’s been walking around with the idea in his head that you’re Michael’s vessel and Sam, Lucifer’s. He’s stubborn.”
         “Yeah, we get that.” Dean sighed again and looked her dead in the eye. “So you’re on our side and not that angel’s, right?”
        “Of course. Till the very end.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead firmly. “I’ll tell you where he’s at so you can go free him…if he needs it…I turned the sprinklers on but…” he shrugged, “…but only if you try again to persuade him this apocalypse shit doesn’t need to happen. Tell him fate isn’t written in stone.”
         “I’ll do my best,” she promised. When she got to the abandoned paper mill, she heard the fire alarm ringing but no fire trucks were in sight. She pulled the heavy door open and saw the sprinklers that Dean had activated were spitting out the last of their water supply onto a very wet, very pissed off archangel who sat cross-legged in the middle of dirty, wet floor inside a blackened ring of ashes. “Hey, hot stuff,” Y/N greeted, hoping to get a smile from him. Instead he merely raised his head and looked at her, water dripping from his head. “Baby, are you okay?” She received a shrug in return. as she kneeled next to him. “Gabe, talk to me. Please?”
        “Your friend Dean really knows how to a cut a man deep, you know that?”
        “I’m aware,” she replied, thinking how many times she got pissed at him for his insensitivity and cruel tongue. “What did he say?”
        “He brought up things I wanted to forget. Me running away from Heaven when the fighting  between my brothers got bad. I wasn’t there when Lucifer was banished. Maybe if I had manned up and stuck around, I could have fixed it. Or stopped it.”
         “Gabriel,” Y/N tried to reach for him but he shied away. It broke her heart to see her trickster so upset. “If you believe in destiny, then Lucifer’s falling had to happen. There was nothing you could have done to stop it.”
         “Actually, that destiny was set on place after the fall.”
         “Really? So…you’re saying that something unforeseen happened that caused a new destiny to be put into place?” He nodded sadly. “And if that’s true then maybe something we do, you and I, or Sam or Dean, can change destiny again?” She let her words sink in; suddenly his whole body language changed as he realized what she was saying. He stood up, his eyes sparkling again.
         “Maybe…maybe!” He clapped his hands together and winked at her. “This is why I love you…well, one of the reasons. You’re smart, you’re always thinking.” She grinned at her angel and stood up.  
      “So, why didn’t the fire department show when Dean set the alarm off,” Y/N asked as she entwined her fingers with Gabe’s.
       “Because brilliant little me warded the place before I brought The Wonder Twins in here. I didn’t want anyone accidentally wandering in.” She tilted her head, and Gabe heard her unspoken question. “Nothing I do is ever warded against you, sugar lips.” She chuckled, allowing Gabriel to finally embrace her and press his lips to hers. “Thanks for coming to get me.”
       “Thanks for rethinking your position on this whole apocalypse thing.”
       And there was the rub, Y/N thought as she came back to the present where Jillian was now singing another cover, Better In Time. By now she expected every song to remind her of Gabe so she let this one roll on by. Although she realized that Time, something she thought she would always have with her trickster, was the one thing they, in fact, did not have.
        Y/N was working a rugaru case in Indianapolis a few months later. Sam and Dean were hightailing it out to help her after a demon possession in Smithfield, IN. Sam called her from the road to tell her that they were being delayed by a storm of biblical proportions and that they were staying the night at a place called The Elysian Fields Hotel. They would catch up with her tomorrow. As soon as she hung up her phone, she heard a telltale rustling behind her and her heart soared, knowing that Gabe was there. But when she turned around to face him, he looked serious, scared. “Babe, what’s wrong?”
       “Your boys are in danger,” he blurted out. “And before you say they’re always in danger, I mean serious, their ass is in the fire, they’re gonna die danger.”
       “What? How? I just got off the phone with Sam….”
       “Yeah, the hotel they’re staying at is only an operating hotel when they want it to be.”
       “When who wants it to be?” Gabe was pacing, obviously worried and it was frightening Y/N. “Gabriel, tell me what’s going on.”
       “Do you remember when I told you about that gang of demigods I hung out with millennia ago?”
       “You mean Kali and her cronies.” The tone of Y/N’s voice dropped a couple of degrees. Gabe had told her about his fling with the Hindu goddess shortly after they started getting serious. While she knew it was in the past, Y/N couldn’t help but be jealous. How could one compete with a literal goddess? Gabe stopped his pacing and gave her an exasperated, sideways glance. “Sorry. What do they have to do with Sam & Dean?”
       “They want to stop the apocalypse as bad as you guys do but they figure with Michael and Lucifer’s vessels in their possession, they can use them as bargaining chips. Zao Shen is already talking of killing them.”
      “We have to go then,” Y/N exclaimed, reaching for her hunting bag. Gabe stopped her with a hand on her arm.
      “No. You can’t.” His voice was hard, almost as hard as his grip. She flicked her eyes up to him in surprise. “Kali already has a blood spell performed on the boys. They can’t leave and I’m the only one who can get close enough to her to get their blood back. She’ll snap your neck the second you show up.”
      “I can’t just leave them to die, Gabriel!”
      “I know you can’t. That’s why I’m going. I just wanted to let you know what my plan was…you know…just in case…” He yanked her up against his body and kissed her forcefully. “I love you.”
      “I love you. Be careful, take care of my angel.” And he was gone. Y/N tried calling Sam back but the phone just went to voicemail. She hated being in the dark, waiting, wondering….and knowing he was with Kali, well, that just made her blood boil. She waited about an hour before Gabe popped back in. He looked ragged, tired, resigned. “Babe! Are you okay? Are Sam and Dean…”
      “They’re fine, we’re fine. Kali tried to kill me but I was too smart for her.” Y/N rushed up to hug him but her hands went right through him, causing his image to shimmer. 
      “Gabe?” He sighed and looked at her with sad eyes.
     “Kali is quick and I was distracted,” he admitted. “She got my blood so now I can’t leave, either.”
     “What do you need me to do,” she asked immediately.
     “Nothing. Stay right here where you’re safe.”
     “What are you planning, trickster?”
     “Look, my original mission was to go in a rescue the guys. But…things have changed.” He took a deep breath and didn’t meet her eyes when he said, “Lucifer is coming. He may already be here.”
      “Then you’ve gotta kill Kali, break the blood spell, get the hell out of there!”
      “No can do, sweetheart. I have a job to do…Dean made that very clear.”
      “Dean? Why is Dean suddenly in charge?”
      “Look, cupcake, if Lucifer is dead, this whole apocalypse nonsense stops right here, right now. And I’m the hero of the story. I have to stop running and do what’s right.”
      “Gabe, don’t be a fool!” Y/N wished more than anything she could grab onto him, keep him here with her. She could see the determination in his whiskey eyes, that he wanted to be the one to slay his brother. “You can’t take on Lucifer! He’s too strong! And this isn’t your fight!”
       “Dean said….”
      “I don’t give a fuck what Dean said!” Her scream shocked both of them. But Y/N was angry, scared that he was going to sacrifice himself this way because of some bravado Dean Winchester had spouted. “It’s not your place to kill your brother! If Dean wants him dead, he can damn well kill him himself!”
      “He’s tried.”
      “Gabe, please, please, don’t fuck everything up, please?” She reached for him, even though she knew it would do no good. “If you shimmer out of here intending to go for Lucifer, I will never speak to you again! Do you hear me?”
       “I love you, Y/N.” His eyes grew moist and soft, his lips turned up in a sad smile. He reached for her, too. “Don’t forget me. And don’t fall in love with someone new, okay?” He shimmered away before she could answer, leaving her standing there in the middle of the floor, hand outstretched, hot, angry tears coursing down her face.
       “I hate you, Gabriel,” she cried, sinking to her knees and praying for his safety. She didn’t know how long she stayed on the floor, crying, pleading, begging into the emptiness of her hotel room. At some point she fell asleep and dreamed of the devil coming for her, his red eyes glowing in the darkness, laughing about how he killed Gabriel and she was next. She awoke to the sound of pounding and yelling outside her door. Shaking the cobwebs from her head and pulling herself to her feet, groaning as her muscles stretched, she recognized Dean’s voice. Her stomach a mass of knots, she threw open the door to see the Winchester brothers standing with a tall, beautiful, dark skinned woman. “Gabriel,” she asked, hating the piteousness in her voice as the trio walked into the room.
       “Y/N, I’m sorry,” Sam started.
       “No,” she yelled, slamming the door behind her. “No! Don’t say it!”
       “He fought valiantly,” Dean said, his voice soft. “He saved so many people.”
       “Is Lucifer dead?”
       “No.” Y/N stood in the middle of her room and let the reality wash over her. Her angel, her trickster, her heart, was gone. Lost to her. Forever. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was an archangel, he was supposed to be eternal. She snapped her head up and stared at the woman.
       “Are you Kali?” The goddess, not used to being spoken to that way by humans, widened her dark eyes in surprise as she nodded. “This is partly your fault!” Y/N strode across the room to face her, pointing at her. “You crafted that blood spell on him, making it so he couldn’t leave. If he could have snapped out of there…”
      “Whoa, easy there,” Dean said, cutting her off with both hands raised in the air. He stood in between the two women, his back to Kali. “This chick can kill you with her mind…like Vader. So I’d take it down a notch or two.”
      “Right now I don’t really care.” She was still upset but she turned the volume down.
      “I understand the role I played in Loki’s death,” the Destroyer answered, her voice smooth and even. She placed a long nailed hand on Dean’s shoulder and gently pushed him out of her way. Her eyes bored into Y/N’s unblinking. “I feel great remorse for the way it played out. Here…” She held out a small glass vial that contained a golden red liquid. “This belonged to your angel. I’d like to give it to you as a small token to acknowledge the wrong I did him. And you.”
      “I-thank you.” Y/N wanted to be angry at the goddess, rail against her, but she could see Kali was truly remorseful. She took the vial and held it tight in her hand.
      “I could sense how deep his feelings ran for you, mortal. Just as I can see you truly loved your angel. Again, you have my sincerest condolences.” She nodded at Y/N before doing the same at the boys and then simply vanished.  
     “Y/N, are you doing okay,” Sam asked, once they all took in the fact that Kali the Destroyer was gone. She shook her head in response, still staring at Gabe’s blood. The tall hunter came over and put his hands on her shoulders. “I’m so, so sorry.” She nodded and whispered her thanks. Dean walked towards her, arms outstretched to pull her into an embrace but she backed away.
      “You,” she spat, looking up at him with fire in her eyes. “This is all your fault!”
      “Excuse me?” Dean looked offended.
      “You filled Gabriel’s head with all that honorable death crap! Telling him to man up and kill his brother. What right did you have to tell him that, to force that burden on him?” Y/N could feel the tears welling, threatening to push through and spill over the dam she was trying to hide them behind.
      “I’m just trying to stop the freakin’ apocalypse,” Dean shot back, obviously wounded by her words.
      “And you don’t care who you use to do it!” She took a deep breath, so close to her breaking point. “I know you didn’t like Gabriel, you’ve made that abundantly clear over the years. Was this your way of finally getting him out of your life? Goad him into playing chicken with Lucifer?”
      “Y/N..” Sam tried to intervene but she was having none of it. She rolled right over him with her words.
      “Are you happy now, Dean? Huh? Are you happy? He’s gone! The one man I ever loved, will ever love, and you killed him.” The hunter opened his mouth to defend himself but he didn’t have the time. “Don’t you even say that it wasn’t you, it was Lucifer. You may not have been the one to stick that angel blade in him but you sure as hell put him in the way of it. He wouldn’t have been there, trying to play hero if it wasn’t for you!”
      “I’m not happy,” Dean replied after a few beats of shocked silence. “I’m sorry it worked out this way, Y/N.”
      “I need to go.” Y/N ignored Dean’s apology and started grabbing her things, leaving him a stunned statue in the middle of the room.
      “Where are you going,” Sam asked.
      “Home. Colorado. I can’t…I can’t stay here, I can’t be around…” she motioned vaguely at Dean and Sam sighed.
      “Let me drive you, at least?” Y/N stopped in the middle of throwing clothes in a duffel bag.
       “I can drive,” she grumbled testily.
       “No, I don’t think you’re in any condition to drive, nevertheless all the way to Colorado. Please,” he walked over to her, and pulled her into a tight hug. She dropped the bag and started to cry, arms limp at her sides. Sam didn’t seem to care that she was sobbing all over his jacket and shirt. He simply held her until she gained enough control of herself to look up at him and say, “Ok.”
       “Ok. Thank you. Dean can pick me up whenever he’s ready, right, Dean?”
       “Yeah, sure,” he grunted, keeping eye contact with the carpet. Y/N wasn’t sure if he was unhappy at the extra driving time or feeling angry over her accusation. She let Sam help her pack the Jeep and gave him the keys when they were done. She never said another word or even looked in Dean’s direction.
       As Jillian spoke to the crowd at The Lemon Drop, Y/N counted how many years it had been since she spoke to Dean. It was going on seven. Although she did help with the procuring of some items they needed when he had the whole Mark of Cain thing going on. Y/N thought about Dean, wondering if she should give up this grudge she had been carrying around for so long. Seven years was a long time to punish someone. Maybe it was the memories assaulting her tonight but she felt like she should call him, or maybe swing by wherever he was when she was done with this case. It was a shock to realize that she actually missed Dean Winchester.  While she was at it, maybe she should stop hunting alone. It had been nice to have a partner, someone who had her back. She was tired of rushing headlong into dangerous situations with the hope that whatever she was hunting would end her suffering. As she pondered this change of heart, she fiddled with the silver chain around her neck, twisting it so the clasp that had found it’s way to the front was back behind her neck. Hanging from it was the vial of angel blood. She hadn’t taken it off since she slid it on the chain; she couldn’t. It was all she had left of Gabriel now.
       Jillian started another cover song; this time it was Shakira’s Broken Record. Y/N rubbed her hand over her face in disbelief and was more surprised to find that she had been crying then she was that this was yet another of Gabe’s songs. She realized that she hadn’t thought about the archangel’s death in a very long time, at least not the details of that night. She had kept those locked down tight for seven years and yet tonight, everything seemed to scream at her to remember every painful moment. She grabbed a cocktail napkin and wiped the tears away, hoping not too many people had seen this display of emotion.
       Y/N dug her phone out of her shirt, deciding to research this place before the show was over; she was done reliving the worst time of her life. It was time to focus on the reason she was here. She googled Lemon Drop Denver and was surprised when nothing came up except a doughnut shop and a handful of places she could buy the candy. She modified the search by adding “nightlife” to it but it only pulled up the best nightclubs that served Lemon Drop drinks. “Hey, when did this place open,” she asked the bartender.
    “No idea. I just started working here.” Nodding, Y/N entered the club’s address into google. It came up as the Sleep-E-Tyme Motel. Following the links, she discovered that it had gone out of business three years previous. Not only were there zero indications that the property had been bought or converted into a nightclub, it also had a very non-existent history as a motel. No murders, unexplained deaths, or suicides connected with the property. Even after she used a little knowledge she’d learned from working with Sam all those years and hacked into the Denver County Assessor’s Office, she ended up with nada. The property was originally purchased 75 years previously and had been ten different motels over the years. Y/N, desperate to figure this out, tried a broad search for unexplained deaths in the Denver area but nothing matched up. Giving it one last try, she plugged Jillian’s name into the search engine and came up with a giant goose egg.
      There were results for people who had her name but nothing came up about her at all. No Facebook page, no Twitter or Instagram account. In this day and age, how could a singer garner so much attention without having a presence on social media? An image search also pulled up nothing. “All right, Sam, what have you gotten me into,” Y/N said out loud as she texted him to ask who passed along the case to him.
    “I’d like to sing a brand new song tonight,” Jillian announced, as Y/N waited for Sam’s reply. “It was written by my partner in crime, my guitarist Mad Dog.” She gestured to the long haired man standing to her left, who saluted the cheering crowd with a cheeky grin. “It’s dedicated to a certain someone out there in the audience tonight. She knows who she is.” Y/N scanned the mob of people to see if anyone reacted like they knew this song was for them but no one seemed to stand out. Her phone buzzing cut her search short.
       “What case are you talking about,” Sam texted back.
       “The possible poltergeist case in Denver. With the lounge singer? Jillian?”
       “I got nothing. It wasn’t me.” There was a short pause before a second text from him popped up. “Are you okay? Do you need help?”
       “I’ll let you know,” she sent back, her mind still reeling with possible explanations. If Sam didn’t send the text, then who did? Her phone buzzed insistently now, indicating she was receiving a call. She ignored it, knowing it was Sam being overprotective, and let the call go to voicemail.
       Right now, the song demanded attention, starting out with a slow, melodic guitar riff. Confused as to where to go from here, Y/N put the phone down and turned her eyes to Jillian, the reason she was here. The singer had her eyes closed as she swayed to the beat. When she opened her mouth, her voice was smooth and effortless.
    “Everything I do, I’m gonna think of you, don’t know what else to do…You got me, you got me, baby…everything I make, I only make for you…Baby, be patient for me, and please don’t fall in love with someone new…I promise one day I’ll come back for you.” Y/N’s heart stopped when she heard the words. Surely she heard wrong. She shook her head and leaned forward on her stool, determined to pay closer attention to the lyrics. “Oh, you say you hate me now, and you burn me with your words…Calling me a fool, saying that I’ve fucked up everything…and you’ll never forgive me, though I’m doing this for you…”
      “What the fuck,” Y/N whispered, her head spinning, her heart pounding. How was this happening. Why was this happening? Jillian sang the chorus again and she heard it clear as a bell: “Please don’t fall in love with someone new.” Y/N started looking around but for what or whom, she wasn’t sure. She just knew that someone was deliberately messing with her. She didn’t understand, though, how anyone could know that Gabriel had said those words to her. She never told anyone about their last conversation.
        “Believe in you, believe in me, we’re meant to be together…” Jillian sang the next line and looked right at Y/N. It doesn’t mean anything, it’s just a song,” Y/N told herself as her eyes welled up. She didn’t want to cry again, not now. But these lyrics were meant for her. And Jillian wasn’t breaking eye contact. She stepped off of the stage and began walking through the crowd towards her. The fans parted like the red sea. It was like they didn’t even care that the woman they had been screaming for moments before was walking by. “Please don’t hate me,” she sang, causing the dam to break. Y/N couldn’t stop the tears if her life depended on it.
        “I don’t hate you, I love you,” she whispered, choking on her tears. The closer Jillian got to her, the more convinced Y/N was that she was going to shimmer into Gabriel. The vial of Gabe’s blood that she wore around her neck was starting to heat up; it was burning her skin where it hung underneath her shirt. Y/N pulled it away from her, knowing in her heart of hearts that her angel was here.
        “I promise one day I’ll come back to you…” Jillian smiled, extending a hand towards her. Y/N stood up from her barstool, holding her breath. The singer stopped in front of her, a beautiful smile on her face. “I promise one day I’ll come back to you.” Suddenly, everything around her shimmered; the neon candy, the crowd, the bartender. In a flash it was all gone. Y/N was standing in the lobby of an abandoned motel, facing Jillian. One lone spotlight remained, illuminating the beautiful singer. Y/N reached out to touch her hand, whispering her angel’s name.  
           But her hand went right through the songstress, who shimmered as well and disappeared. The spotlight shut off. “What? No, no! Where are you? Gabriel, where are you?” She spun around, seeing nothing but dark and street lights streaming in through grimy, boarded up windows. Everything was gone. Sinking to her knees, she sobbed Gabe’s name over and over, feeling as though she had lost him all over again. Maybe she was dead and this was her hell: reliving all the painful memories of him and thinking she had the chance to have him back. Or maybe another trickster had her in his sights.
         Her rational side flared up, yelling at her to get up and investigate the situation. This whole thing smelled fishy and the quicker she got to the bottom of it, the sooner she would have answers. It wasn’t doing her any good to lay in the dirt and cry. She reached for her phone, planning to use the flashlight to search her surroundings until she remembered she had left it on the bar. When the bar disappeared, did her phone follow suit? Y/N sighed, wiping her tear-stained cheeks and pushing herself to her feet. If she had lost her phone in this debacle, she was screwed. She turned around slowly as her eyes adjusted to the dimness. She could make out a couple of tables, one laying cockeyed because of a broken leg, and a scattering of chairs. She didn’t see a bar or any barstools. “Damn it,” she said out loud, her voice echoing in the darkness.
      Maybe it was on the ground, she thought, having fallen when the bar shimmered away. She crouched down and started feeling around with her hands. The floor was disgusting, covered in years of dust and dirt and, “Oh, God, what the hell was that,” she asked, praying it wasn’t animal droppings she just touched. Taking a deep breath and reminding herself she’s handled worse things during hunts, she crawled a few more feet before her hand touched something that felt like a shoe. A shoe that had a foot in it. As Y/N ran her hand up the shoe, she wasn’t sure if she wanted there to be a body attached to the foot or not.
      Suddenly a light illuminated the space above her. Peering up, she was startled to see Jillian’s guitar player standing there, her phone in his hand, flashlight app functioning. “Looking for this?”
       “I, uh, yeah, thanks.” As she started to pull herself up from the floor, he held out his free hand to help her. She reached out to take and it, half-expecting him to be a mirage as well. She gasped when her fingers closed around a real hand. “What’s going on,” she asked. “Why are you still here?” In the light of the phone, she could see him smile. A smile she knew like the back of your hand. “Gabe,” she whispered, her heart thumping hard against her chest. She didn’t think she could survive another letdown. “Are you real?”
      “I’m real, sugar.” He snapped his fingers and there was her angel standing before her. She didn’t move for a few moments, just stared at him, letting her mind adjust. He started to walk towards her but she stopped him, rapidly pulling a knife from her belt. “Whoa, whoa, cupcake, no need for violence.” He put both hands in front of him, his whiskey eyes wide.
      “I need to be sure I’m not in a Djinn soaked dream,” Y/N told him, drawing the large blade across her palm, opening her skin. Dark red blood spilled from the wound and onto the floor. Nothing happened, she stayed where she was, as did the man in front of her. “Okay, then,” she whispered, tearing her eyes away from the blood and looking up at Gabriel. “You’re really real. You’re really, truly real.”
       “I’m really, truly, honestly here.” He stepped up to her, bringing her hand to his lips. He kissed her palm lightly and the wound disappeared. When his lips touched her skin, Y/N gasped, the sensation so much more intense than she remembered. She looked up at him and burst into tears. He gathered her into his arms and held her while she sobbed. Seven years of pent up anger, grief, sorrow…it all came out right then. She didn’t know how long she stood there in his embrace but she finally was able to catch her breath and pull her head away.
       “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for everything I said,” she told him. “I don’t hate you, I never did.”
       “I know, I know. It’s okay.” Gabriel used his thumb to wipe away a couple of straggling tears from her cheeks and she leaned in to his touch.  
       “It’s not okay, Gabe, it’s not. I was cruel and I should never have said what I said.” Y/N grabbed his face in both hands and placed her forehead against his, standing on her tiptoes to do so. “You were so brave to take on Lucifer that way, saving all of those people, those gods. I should have encouraged you but I was scared. I didn’t want to lose you.”
       “You didn’t lose me, I’m back.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I’m back.”
       “How are you back, anyway,” Y/N asked, not wanting to remind him of the seven years of torture that she endured when she did lose him.
       “Dad put me back together.” He stepped away from her and held out his arms. “Did a fine job, I must say.”
       “I don’t understand. I thought Chuck said…”
       “When Dad revealed himself to the Hardy Boys? Yeah, they asked about bringing my brothers and me back to help fight Auntie Amara and yeah, he told them archangels were too difficult to build in such a short time. But when the dust settled and everything turned out A-OK, Dean prayed to Dad and asked him for a favor.” He smiled sweetly and took her hands in his. “He asked for me to be rebuilt. For you.”
      “D-Dean prayed? For you and I?” Gabriel nodded, his honey colored hair flopping into his handsome face. “I can’t believe it.”
      “Believe it, doll. He felt guiltier about getting me killed then anything he’s ever done.” The angel winked at her. “He misses you.”
      “I…I don’t know what to say.”
      “You could start by thanking him.” Y/N laughed.
      “Yeah, yeah, I’ll do that,” she promised on a sigh as she hugged her angel again. “So you put this whole elaborate thing together just to surprise me?”
       “Of course. Would you expect anything less?” She shook her head against his chest. “I wanted to be sure that you wanted me back. I needed you to comb through our memories together and see how you felt about me. I didn’t want to intrude if you had actually met someone else.”
      “There will never be anyone else, Gabe. Ever.”    
      “I feel the same way about you, babe.” The look he gave her melted her insides. “I have to say, though, that watching you relive my death was pretty rough. I’m sorry I had to put you through that.”
       “I hadn’t thought about that night in years. I think it was cathartic, though, something that I should have done a long time ago.” He pulled her flush against him once again before holding her out arms length, looking her up and down.
       “Damn, I love you.”
       “I love you, Gabe. I missed you.”
       “Let’s get the heck outta this dump, shall we?”
       “Let’s.” Gabriel snapped them out of the building and into Y/N’s Jeep. As she started up the car, the radio came on, blaring Led Zeppelin. She turned the volume down and said, “You know, I really liked that song you wrote.”
       “Yeah?”
       “Yeah. And Jillian’s voice was lovely. You should create her again, make her a star.” Gabe pursed his lips together, thinking about the idea as she pulled out of the motel parking lot.
        “I like it. We could make some serious cash.”
        “Better than hustling pool with the Winchesters,” she laughed. Gabe chuckled, reaching over and putting his hand on her knee. She smiled, feeling every broken piece of her knit back together.

6

By the time they reached town wisps of clouds begun to clutter the coastline bringing with them a screeching flocks of seagulls who soared through the strong winds, calling to each other. “It’s gonna rain.” Dean states, breaking the painful silence the pair endured as they walked to town, reluctantly together. 

Sawyer squinted towards the sky, and heading in their direction were a large smog of dove grey clouds, ready to burst their banks as they currently hovered over the jagged landscape. “Looks like it.” She mutters, folding her arms over her chest, as goose bumps emerged along her arms and torso, making her shiver. “You shouldn’t have lied to Alma. That wasn’t very nice.” She adds matter-of-factly, shooting him with a pointed look.

“I know.” Dean answers slicking back the loose strands of hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. “So… how long have you been dancing for?” He asks, scratching his cheek before shoving his hands into his pockets to keep them warm.

“Do you actually care to know or are you just making small talk?! If it’s the latter then this conversation is already over because I’d rather not talk to you anyway.” Sawyer retorts icily, glancing away from Dean’s piercing gaze that held amusement at her caginess, which all the more infuriated her. 

“…I care.” He admits after a pause of thought, causing Sawyer to quickly glance away from the shadowed shore, her wide eyes darting in his direction, surprised and almost startled from the sincerity his voice carried as he answered her. “You’re looking at me like you don’t believe a word I’m saying.” He smirks, raising a thick black brow in return.

“Because I don’t believe you.” Sawyer scoffs, her arms falling to her sides as she let out an impatient huff. “You fool around in class, never hand your work in on time, and constantly answer back the teachers. Not to mention vandalising the bleachers and skipping classes too. You don’t care about anything.” She deadpans, all while staring at him incredulously, expecting him to argue with her.

“You know, after all you said earlier, I think it is you stalking me…” He teases, dodging Sawyer’s. She sighs and rolls her eyes, quickening her pace to get away from him. “School… It just isn’t important to me.” He says halting her in her steps; peering over her shoulder she stares back at him, blue meeting blue. Stormy Atlantic and tropic Pacific. “I’ve got a job at my uncle’s garage when I leave. I don’t need school.”

“You can have more… What about college?”

“Ha, I’m graduating by the skin of my teeth. I don’t think any colleges would want me.” Dean replies with the shrug of his shoulders. Sawyer wants to shake her head at him, berate him for being so foolish with his choices, yet instead she just stared hoping her silence would be enough for him to elaborate. “Look, I had shitty parents who loved to be boozed up all day and night, and in the end my aunt and uncle took me in when I was four years old, and here I am in this place.. I owe them, Sawyer.” He explains, all humour void from his voice, “I need to pay them back for taking me away from that life, and soon enough it’ll happen once we leave school. I can work full time at the garage and then continue to run it when my uncle no longer can. Or my aunt’s cafe”

“Right, I see.” She replies quietly, her cheeks burning as she felt a little embarrassed with herself for being as brash with him as she had; if she knew his history she wouldn’t have been so callous with him. She had no idea about his past, obviously it were something he didn’t divulge with anybody. Knotting her fingers together she wondered if Stevie knew. She seemed to be the closest person to a friend Dean had. “If you must know, I started dancing before I could walk.” She smiles delicately, almost fearfully as it were something she had never done in his presence. Dean’s eyes lingered at her mouth and he flashed back an even brighter smile before letting out a laugh. 

“Was that so hard?” Dean teases, the crimson flush in his cheeks heating. He finally felt as though he were making progress with her, and he took that one barely-there smile as a mini-triumph. 

“Look, I know I’m probably stepping way out of line here, and I don’t even know why I’m even bothering – you’re not family or somebody I remotely even care about. I probably can’t help myself because I’m the oldest sibling and have this desire to impose my wisdom and bossiness on others–”

“–I’ve noticed.”

“–whatever… just don’t let your parents mistreatment of you define you, and certainly don’t put yourself in that toxic mind set where you feel like you owe something to someone. I know they’re your family, but you’ve got one life, Dean.” She starts, “Seriously you should want more than a dead-end job at a garage and being covered in oil all day just because you feel you owe your relatives something. The only person you owe is yourself, and you should be wanting to live the best damn life possible while you have the time. So say you wanna travel? Then go travel? You wanna climb the highest mountain? Then go do it. If you really want to work in your uncle’s cafe and your aunt’s garage–”

“–actually it’s the other way around.”

“–irrelevant. But if you really want to work there, then do it. But if it’s just to pay them back for doing the human thing, that any normal relative would do for a family member then don’t. Believe me, you’ll end up bitter and forever wishing for the life you could have had.” She finishes, crossing the street from him, and darting into the dance centre without another word. 

Once more Dean Caruso were stood on his own, and left absolutely astounded by Sawyer. Pulling out his last cigarette from his pack, he lit it and headed towards the dock with a lot of thinking to do.

so, before i go to bed i gotta get some thoughts out

stan and kyle do end up going to the same collage, because i fucking say so. and they manage to gain a small group of cool friends that they hang out with a lot. they watch dumb tv shows together and hang out in each others dorm rooms between classes and share cereal and shit like that. stan and kyle do manage to be each others room mates btw. like seriously, you can do that and they totally would for the first two years. then i know theyd get a shitty house with their friends for the remainder of college.


anyways, so one night in one of their friends dorm rooms theyre watching some shitty/funny movie and its going on in the background. and the five of them are sitting in a circle. one of their friends takes out this tote thats totally filled with various booze drinks. stan and kyle didnt actually drink much in highschool. like maybe they did a bit junior and senior year at a few parties but nothing serious.


anyways everyone has their mixer, kyle chooses ginger-ale and stan chooses gaterade. they got their mixers from the vending machine in the basement.


they take a look at all the boozes and they just kinda decide on vodka, mixes well with anything really. kyle kinda regrets his decision to get ginger-ale but stan shares some of his gaterade vodka and suffers through some of kyles drink to make it even.


so they’re just all chilling and watching the movie, getting a real laugh out of all of it. stan is on the futon while kyle is between his legs, they switch drinks often and kyle rests his head on stans leg a lot. 


after the movie is over they’re kinda just all sitting in a circle chatting and laughing it up. everyone is pretty buzzed right now and one of them keeps saying “dudes, keep it down, someones gonna yell at us for being too loud”


kyle just laughs and falls against stan, their shoulders touching and stan looks down at him with a goofy smile as he plays with kyles hair.


two of their friends start laughing at something stan and kyle didnt quite catch.


“wait what?” kyle asks, slurred and confused but wanting to get in on the joke


“yo, i know its totally gay but we should all kiss each other”


“youre right, that is totally gay!”


“but we’re all friends here! and, like, we need a first gay kiss right?”


“i mean, i guess” stan replies, raising an eye brow.


“okay, i’ll be your first gay kiss, i’ve claimed it” one of them points to the other. stan and kyle laugh.


“what about me? im their room mate!” the third friend complains, huffing and crossing their arms.


“i totally want to be your first gay kiss man,” kyle says lazily as he looks up at stans red face.


“i mean yeah, thats a given” he laughs lightly before helping kyle to sit straight up.


“alright kiss me big boy” kyle laughs, puckering his lips. stan grabs his face with both hands and pulls kyle into a deep kiss. a little more than the five of them were thinking, but stan wanted to be a bit more dramatic. their friends are hooting, already finished with their gay kissing.


“niceeee” kyle says, his eyes half lidded as stan pulls away from the kiss.


“i think that was hella gay, and from what i can tell it should totally happen again for you guys” one of their friends cuts in.


“yeah i kinda agree, i think kissing you is my favorite thing from now on,” stan takes another swig from kyles drink, a drunken happy smile on his face.


“agreed” kyles smile grows as well.


so yeah, im buzzed and its time for beddd

Potter Puppet Pals Starters!

WIZARD ANGST

  • “I feel cranky and pubescent today and I don’t know why”
  • “I’m sick of your dreadful speckled mug”
  • “I don’t want a hug!”
  • “I’ll wound you!”

NEVILLE’S BIRTHDAY

  • “This party is ruining my excellent life”
  • “Cake? Maybe this party doesn’t have to suck!”
  • “Even I look down on you, me.”
  • “All right, where’s all the wizard booze?”
  • “What the slash fic!?”

HARRYWEEN

  • “I hate Halloween!”
  • “You could borrow some of my clothes and be a sexy school girl”
  • “This is for babies”
  • “Smell my finger!”
  • “Great [name], just leave your underwear lying in the [common room]” (or applicable location)
  • “I bet if I was a forest, I’d be pretty big.”

POTIONS CLASS

  • “The cool feminine curves of a potions flask”
  • “Oh not this again..”
  • “I need to borrow some wizard liquids.”
  • “That has no magical properties…”

THE VORTEX

  • “You don’t understand this was a life changing vision!”
  • “It tickles in all the wrong ways!”
  • “This wouldn’t happen if you weren’t so fat.”
  • “No one can have more testosterone than me!”

HARRY’S NIGHTMARES

  • “One time I dreamed [person] was addicted to amphetamines”
  • “I dreamed I was middle aged… YUCK!”
  • “I was dancing… it was beautiful.”
  • “And then, he/she flipped out, and tried to kill me with a hammer!”
  • “This was terrifying!”
  • “It meant I had failed as a parent.”
For real dude, I don’t wanna grow up.
—  white woman, in Boulder
3

“What’s a Halloween?” Lincoln asked.  

“It’s not a thing, it’s a day. Specifically, tt’s a holiday that was celebrated a long time ago. Before Praimfay.” Clarke said, “We would celebrate it on the arc sometimes, if rations allowed it. The kids would be given candy and apples and pumpkin and we’d put up streamers and little paper ghosts. It was fun.” 

Lincoln gave her a skeptical look, “Sounds weird. It’s a holiday for sweets?”

“Among other things.” You said, trying to figure out a way to explain, “It’s like a harvest celebration. To celebrate the end of fall and the coming of winter.”

“And you use ghosts and candy to celebrate that?” He asked dryly. 

“Well people used to believe the line between the supernatural and the natural was thinned during this time. It gets darker earlier, it gets colder, death ran more rampant, things like that. It started out as a super ancient pagan practice, but later it just became an excuse to scare people and dress up in weird costumes. Hence the ghosts and candy.”

Lincoln laughed, “Your people sound weird.” 

“We’re descendants of the same people.” Octavia replied. 

You all laughed at him as he blushed.

“We should celebrate Halloween.” Jasper said suddenly, “It’s almost winter time, so about Halloween time, and it’ll be fun. Lift spirits a bit.” 

“What are we gonna do?” You asked, “Dress up and trick or treat with dried meat and nuts.”

“Well we can dress up, kinda.” Monty offered, “And we’re all too old to trick or treat anyway. It could just be like a normal party.”

“Lots of booze.” Jasper said smiling. 

You all looked to Clarke, unconsciously leaving the decision up to her. She thought about it before shrugging easily, “What the heck. Let’s do it.” 

A week later found everyone beyond wasted and dressed in various states of costumes. A lot of furs were worn as werewolf costumes, a few all black outfits as spies and vampires, Octavia and Jasper had smeared a bunch of blood and makeup on their faces to be zombies, and Lincoln had donned his old reaper gear. 

There was apple bobbing and oddly made scarecrows, a makeshift dance floor and you had all tried your hand at pumpkin carving (it was a disaster and you were sure the smell of pumpkin would never leave your hair). It was as Halloween as it was going to get, which wasn’t saying much, but seeing your friends dancing and drinking and laughing– carefree for the first time in weeks– you figured it was just perfect. 

4

Request by Anonymous: Singing with a drunk dean at a bar, and sam being impressed with your talent.

Imagine you and Dean singing while drunk and Sam being impressed that you actually sing well when you’re drunk.

Masterlist

Fandom: Supernatural

Gifs aren’t mine.

Sam sighed as he sat in between you and Dean at a bar near the motel they had been staying at. The hunt that you had finished got pretty smoothly and well and no one got killed which means celebrating, but your’s and Dean’s definition of celebrating was pretty far from Sam’s.

“Guys I think you had enough for the night,” Sam sighed pulling away the shot glasses from both you and Dean.

“Aww c’mon Sammy,” Dean soured as he swung his arm drunkly over his brothers’ shoulder, “I mean look they have all this booze and its karaoke night! Live a little.”

Sam sighed bushing Dean’s arm off of him and looking at his brother, “Dean, you can’t and you won’t sing.” 

“Try me Sammy. Hey (y/n),” you looked up at the call of your name and stared at Dean in a questioning matter, “karaoke?”

Your lips quickly turned into a grin, “Karaoke.”

“We might make mistakes tonight, but we will not regret them in the morning,” Dean hollered as he lifted up his shot glass that he had took back from Sam, and you took your’s also raising it up in the air.

“No one will mess up our night!” You said clinking your glass with Dean’s. Then you both smirked at each other and screamed in unison.

“Not tonight Satan!” and headed off to karaoke.

“Oh, God.” Sam said raising up his hand for the bartender to see.

“What would you like?” asked the bartender.

“Your strongest, please.” Sam sighed turning towards the stage as he got a nod from the bartender.

As you and Dean got up onto the stage the two of you got microphones and Dean somehow stole a large glass of beer off of someones tape which was now in his hand. Dean selected a song and Sam groaned hearing the beginning of the song played as he drank a big gulp from his drink getting ready for tonights performance.

“Party girls don’t get hurt
Can’t feel anything, when will I learn
I push it down, push it down!” Dean started as annoyed groans came from the crowd at his drunk voice.

“I’m the one “for a good time call”
Phone’s blowin’ up, they’re ringin’ my doorbell
I feel the love, feel the love!” You sang which was actually pretty good and pleased the audiences ears, and then you and Dean smirked at each other.

“1, 2, 3 1, 2, 3 drink
1, 2, 3 1, 2, 3 drink
1, 2, 3 1, 2, 3 drink!” Dean sang taking a swig from his beer every time he sang ‘drink.’

“Throw em back, till I lose count!” You sang and then the two of you sang in unison.

“I’m gonna swing from the chandelier, from the chandelier
I’m gonna live like tomorrow doesn’t exist
Like it doesn’t exist
I’m gonna fly like a bird through the night, feel my tears as they dry
I’m gonna swing from the chandelier, from the chandelier!” The two of you sang people booed and cheered. Well they actually booed at Dean and cheered for you.

“And I’m holding on for dear life, won’t look down won’t open my eyes
Keep my glass full until morning light, ‘cause I’m just holding on for tonight
Help me, I’m holding on for dear life, won’t look down won’t open my eyes
Keep my glass full until morning light, 'cause I’m just holding on for tonight
On for tonightT” Dean sand as you took his glass of beer while he was singing and took a few sips from it before Dean snatched it make from you which was your cue to sing.

“Sun is up, I’m a mess
Gotta get out now, gotta run from this
Here comes the shame, here comes the shame!”

“1, 2, 3 1, 2, 3 drink
1, 2, 3 1, 2, 3 drink
1, 2, 3 1, 2, 3 drink!”

“Throw em back, till I lose count!” And the two of you became even louder if that was possible. You being the good loud and Dean being the bad loud.

“I’m gonna swing from the chandelier, from the chandelier
I’m gonna live like tomorrow doesn’t exist
Like it doesn’t exist
I’m gonna fly like a bird through the night, feel my tears as they dry
I’m gonna swing from the chandelier, from the chandelier!”

“And I’m holding on for dear life, won’t look down won’t open my eyes
Keep my glass full until morning light, 'cause I’m just holding on for tonight
Help me, I’m holding on for dear life, won’t look down won’t open my eyes
Keep my glass full until morning light, 'cause I’m just holding on for tonight
On for tonight, on for tonight
As I’m just holding on for tonight
No I’m I’m just holding on for tonight
On for tonight, on for tonight
As I’m just holding on for tonight
As I’m just holding on for tonight
No I’m I’m just holding on for tonight
On for tonight, on for tonight,” you finished as people cheered and booed throwing things at Dean who just drunkly looked around at everyone in the bar.

“You guys suck!” Dean yelled dropping the mic and getting off stage only to fall down the steps and pass out. You also wobbled down the stage towards Dean and right when you were about to pass out Sam caught from falling on top of Dean.

“Are you my prince in shining long hair?” You asked Sam looking up at him before passing out.

 Sam chuckled picking you up bridal style and bringing you into the Impala and laying you down in the back seat smiling at you slightly. Sam went back inside picking up his brother and paying for the bills and placing Dean in the passenger seat. Well, more like shoving him into the passenger seat, but Sam didn’t really care if his brother was going to have neck cramps in the morning.

~~~

The next day you woke up with a severe headache as you were rubbing your temple trying to ease the pain. You looked around only to see the motel room the three of you were staying in. Each one of you getting your own bed which was actually quite rare. Sometimes two of you had to share a bed or if the beds were to small one of you would sleep on the couch. Since if one of you got separate rooms and got attacked by someone or something it would be harder to reach the other. The three of you had learned that from a past mistake. You sighed getting off your bed and going over to your bag to search for painkillers.

The door opened after you had taken the painkillers to see Sam coming through the door with a bag full of food and three coffees.

“Morning,” Sam said as he placed the content in the bag onto the table in the motel.

“Oh my Chuck you are an amazing human being!” You yelled running up to Sam and hugging him then sitting down and starting to scarf down donuts.

Sam shook his head with a chuckle at how much Dean’s personality has rubbed off on you. He walked over to where dean was sprawled out on his bed and shook his brother awake. Dean immediately woke up jumping off the bed, but failing instead and falling onto the floor with a loud thump. Sam sighed pulling his half awake brother off the floor and towards the table where you were eating. dean’s face lit up at the sight of the holy food you were right ow shoving down your face hole.

“Leave me some,” Dean whined like a five year old as he snatched a few donuts from the box.

When the two of you were almost done with your breakfast you and Dean turned to Sam who was just sipping on his coffee  and scrolling through things on his laptop.

“What mistakes did we make last night?” You asked Sam taking a bite of your donut in anticipation.

“You both sang ‘Chandelier’ by Sia,” Sam said taking another sip from his coffee.

“That’s it?” Dean asked scoffing, “I mean you’d think I’d do something worse.”

“Dean I don’t think there’s anything worse on this planet than you singing.” Sam told him which Dean grumbled at and shoved another donut in this face.

You on the other hand weren’t as calm as the older Winchester. You froze up and almost dropped the half eaten donut in your hand. “What?! Sam how could you let me do that?!” You yelled at him your face flushing red in embarrassment as you put your head onto the table and folded you arms around your head.

“You weren’t bad (y/n), and everyone was actually cheering for you plus I don’t think I could sing that good even if I’m sober,” Sam told you giving you a reassuring smile. 

You looked up at him face still red, but now more faint them before, “Really?”

“Really.”

You smiled at him and hugged him as Sam also hugged you back. What made the two of you pull away was Dean saying, “No chick flick moments!”

Someone New (Gabriel x Reader)

Characters: Gabriel x Reader

Word Count: 14,654

Summary: You are a hunter who is lured to a case where everything reminds you of your boyfriend Gabriel, who has been dead for 7 years. You’re forced to relive all of your memories with him. Inspired by the song “Someone New” by Banks.

Originally posted by fand0maniac

The nightclub was rundown, set in a dark, dingy part of Denver that Y/N tried to avoid when she could, but her job led her to this area more than she would like. She walked up the sidewalk, head down, not making eye contact with the locals until she reached the entrance to The Lemon Drop Nightclub and Cantina. The door was red wood with a giant swirly lollipop for a handle. Y/N shook her head as she pulled it open and walked inside.
     Her senses were immediately assaulted by loud pop music and bright colored lights spinning from the ceiling, the walls were covered with candy ornaments of all kinds from old vintage tin signs to neon versions of Kit Kats, Twix, and Butterfingers. Gabe would love it here. The thought came into her head unbidden, as did the quick, sharp stab of pain when she thought of him. Taking a deep breath, she wrinkled her nose to keep any tears at bay and focused on the task at hand. She was a hunter, damn it, and she couldn’t afford to be seen as weak.
     When she was sure her emotions were in check and her eyes had adjusted to the light, she made her way to the bar. The bartender was tall and muscular, his arms bulging out of a sleeveless Slayer t-shirt. His long black hair was slicked back into a tight ponytail. Wiping a glass with a questionable rag, he caught Y/N’s eye and gave her a backwards nod. “What can I getcha?”
     “I was looking for Jillian Banks?” A knowing look entered the man’s eyes as he grinned widely.
     “You a fan, then?” He raised his eyebrows and Y/N sighed.
     “I’m here to talk to her about the…problems…she’s been having here.” It was her turn to grin when his smile faltered. “You wouldn’t know anything about those, would you?”
     “Look, i don’t know what you’ve heard…are you a cop or something, cuz if you’re a cop, don’t I get to have my attorney present or some shit like that?”
     “Number one, I’m not a cop. Number two, you don’t look like someone who has an attorney on retainer.” The man stared at her and Y/N wasn’t sure if he was too nervous to speak or didn’t understand the word “retainer.” Sighing again, she pulled a business card out of the back pocket of her jeans and slid it across the bar to him. “I’m a paranormal investigator. She contacted me, If you could point me in her direction or let her know I’m here, that would be great.” He picked up the card, checked it out, and gave a her a brief, unreadable look before saying he’d be right back.
      Y/N leaned against the bar and looked at her reflection in the mirrored wall between all the bottles of booze. I look like shit, she thought, catching how her long Y/H/C hair fell from her head in lank, uninspired waves and her Y/E/C eyes were weary and sad. Not able to stand the sight any longer, she turned and faced the club, resting her elbows on the padded edge of the counter. She watched the patrons dance and laugh and drink, all seemingly having the time of their lives. I used to be like them, she thought wearily, as memories came flooding back.
      Memories of hustling pool in dive bars all over the country with the Winchester Brothers. Their favorite ploy was using the fact that she was a girl to make knuckle headed drunks think she was a pushover, when in fact the only person who had ever been able to beat her was Sam. Sam freakin’ WInchester, the man who texted her earlier tonight with this case. Sam Winchester, the man who held her and comforted her after she lost everything. It didn’t matter where he told her to go for a case, she would do it. She owed him her life. So many times over. She was thinking of texting him a picture of this godawful place when the music changed. Taylor Swift’s “All You Had To Do Was Stay” began playing and her heart constricted painfully.
      Everything she had wanted to forget came sweeping back. Gabriel. His ridiculous plan to leave her and fight his brother to keep her and everyone else safe. The fight they had about it before he left, the horrible, horrible things she said to him as he walked out the door.
     The look in Sam’s eyes when he had to tell her that Gabriel had been killed by his brother.
     This stupid song always made her think of Gabe. Some nights when she felt like wallowing, she would put it on repeat and cry into a glass of Jack Daniels. Most of the time, she simply avoided the song but here…there was nothing to do unless she wanted to kick the jukebox into submission. “Let me remind you this was what you wanted (Oh oh oh)….you ended it…you were all I wanted….”
     “Fuck, come on,” she said out loud, biting her bottom lip hard. She would not give into the memories. Not here, not tonight.
      Not here, not tonight, not here, not tonight.
      That had been her mantra since that night. Y/N would say 97% of the time it worked. Tonight, however, looked to be the time that the 3% reared it’s ugly head. She felt the despair and grief wash over her and she had to sit down on a bar stool so that she didn’t sink to the floor. Even after seven years it was strong enough to knock the wind out of her. She wondered if it would ever get easier; then she realized that deep down, she didn’t want it to. If it did, that meant she was moving on, forgetting Gabriel, the only man she had ever truly loved. She couldn’t do that, not to him.
       Y/N met Gabriel ten years ago while she was working a case in Springfield, Ohio with The Winchesters. He was deep in his Trickster persona and messing with Sam and Dean’s minds, causing them to fight more than usual. Y/N thought she could get the drop on the bad guy while they were bickering. She trailed him to his apartment after he left the university where he was posing as a janitor. With a stake dipped in his victim’s blood hidden in her oversized purse, she waited until he was inside before making her move.
        She had been watching him long enough to realize that women were a weakness of his, so she put on her tightest jeans and her lowest-cut shirt before fluffing her hair out and walking boldly up to his apartment door. He answered almost immediately after she knocked and she had to wonder if he knew she was coming. “Well, hello, pretty lady. How can I help you?” The trickster let his eyes roam up and down her body as he grinned and leaned against the door, still wearing his grey janitor’s jumpsuit but the front was unzipped, showing off a crisp white t-shirt underneath.
        “Um, hi, my car broke down outside and…I…uh…” when his eyes made their way back up to hers, she suddenly lost her train of thought. They were the most brilliant shade of gold, almost like sunlight streaming through a bottle of whiskey. She had never seen eyes like that before; she felt like she was drowning in them. Focus, Y/N, she told herself sternly, pulling her gaze away. That was when she saw the cocky smile, as if he could tell what she was thinking. “Uh…yeah, my car. It broke down and my phone is dead. Could I use yours?” She flashed him her most innocent grin and pushed her chest forward. His eyes flicked down quickly and she knew her ploy was working.
        “Not from around here, are you,” he asked, his voice smooth as velvet.  She shook her head. “And I’m on the third floor. What made you pick my apartment?”
        “I saw you pull in and I thought you looked nice,” she shrugged, raising her eyebrows and biting her bottom lip. “Please? I just need to call my friend so he can come pick me up.” The trickster stared at her for a beat too long, making her skin break out in goose pimples. Those eyes were dangerous. Then he stepped back and swept his arm gallantly.
        “Who I am to turn a pretty woman away in her time of need. Please, be my guest.” Y/N rushed past him and into the apartment, taking it all in quickly. It was small; a tidy living area held only a television set, a recliner, and a TV tray. It led into an open kitchen. She noticed the counters were covered in sweets: pies, cakes, and cookies were everywhere.
        “Having a party,” she asked, nodding her head to the bounty. He laughed, shutting the door firmly.
        “I have a sweet tooth and a love for cooking shows,” he laughed. “I end up cooking everything they make on there. Want a cookie or something?”
        “No, thanks, I’ll be out of your hair shortly if you’ll just point me to the phone.” To her surprise, he still had a landline hanging on the wall in the hallway. It was dark and she couldn’t see past where she stood. Hoping nothing jumped out at her, she dialed Dean’s number.
       “Y/N, where are you,” he barked in greeting.
       “I’m at an apartment building at 5th and Grant,” she replied. “My car broke down. I think it’s the carburetor.”
       “Is he there with you now,” he asked, his voice brisk with a touch of worry. He recognized their code immediately.
       “Yes, he was nice enough to let me use his phone.” She looked over her shoulder and smiled at the trickster, who was standing a few feet away. He raised his eyebrows at her.
       “Do you have a weapon?”
       “I do.”
       “Be careful. We’re on our way.”
       “Ok, thanks.” She hung up and turned around slowly. He was standing just a little closer than he had been. “Thank you. I’ll just go wait in my car now.”
       “Are you sure you want to wait out there? It’s chilly.” His eyes were back on hers and she felt her stomach flip. She didn’t understand her reaction to him. He wasn’t her type of guy at all. She normally went for the tall, manly, dark haired muscular guys who were teddy bears underneath. Like Dean. This guy was nothing like her hunter - shortish (she gauged him around 5’8”, 5’9”), with unruly honey colored hair, thin lips, and just the tiniest bit of a belly. Probably from all those sweets, she thought. Not to mention he was a monster. A trickster who had killed innocent people. She had no business even thinking about him the way she was.
        “So, uh, thanks again,” she stammered, walking towards him, her hand on the strap of her purse. “Maybe I will take that cookie. One for the road, you know?” He winked at her, turning to grab her a cookie from the kitchen. That was when she made her move, sliding the stake from her purse and rushing up behind him. He shocked her when he turned so fast, grabbing her wrist and forcing the weapon from her grip. It clattered uselessly on the floor. He pushed her up against the wall, pressing his whole body against her, holding her captured hand above her head. She couldn’t breathe, knowing for sure that she had failed and she would be his next victim.
       “You reek of hunter,” he said, his face inches from hers. She could feel his hot breath on her face and it smelled of butterscotch. Her belly fluttered against her will. He cupped her face in his free hand, running a thumb along her lower lip. “A sexy hunter, sure but a hunter nonetheless.” Y/N tried to tell herself that her heart was pounding a mile a minute because death was imminent and not because he was so close to her, those whiskey eyes peering into hers with a scorching heat. He had to be causing these sensations; he was a trickster, after all.
        “Stop it,” she ordered, trying and failing to sound authoritative. Her voice came out in a thick whisper.
        “Stop what,” he asked, all innocence.
       “You’re fucking with my mind. Just kill me and get it over with.” He chuckled and shook his head.
       “Oh, sweetheart, your mind isn’t what I want to fuck.” He never gave her a chance to react to that statement. His lips were on hers in a hard, wet kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth. She found herself responding even though she knew she shouldn’t. He tasted so good though and his body felt right against hers. When she moaned against his kiss, he pulled away just a fraction. “No, I can’t kill you. I’ll be seeing you around, though.” She heard a snap and suddenly everything spun out of control. A few seconds later she found herself in the passenger seat of Dean’s Impala as he sped down the highway.
      “Jesus Christ,” Dean yelled, swerving the car into oncoming traffic before gaining control and righting the wheels before pulling over to the side of the road. “Where the fuck did you come from?”
       “Umm….the trickster made me,” she said, still trying to get her bearings. She was dizzy from the trip to the car, not to mention her lips still buzzed from the kiss and her body was keyed up from his words.
       “So, what, instead of killing you, he snapped you here?” Y/N shrugged. “Maybe he figured you appearing out of nowhere would give me a heart attack and we’d both die.” She laughed at his explanation; it was better to let him think that than tell him what really happened, she decided as she ran her tongue along her bottom lip, still tasting the butterscotch from his kiss.
      As she sat at the bar inside The Lemon Drop, she bit her lip with her tongue, fancying she could still taste him. Knowing that she would never again feel his lips on hers broke her heart all over again. She could feel tears threatening but was saved by the bartender returning. “Okay, Jillian wants to talk to you but it’ll be a while. She’s getting ready for her stage show and she doesn’t let anyone back there while she does so.” Y/N nodded. “She asked me to get you whatever you’d like while you wait.”
      “Shot of Jack and…do you make butter babies?”
      “Absolutely I do,” he grinned.
      “Four of those as well, please.” Y/N knew she was hurting herself by drinking the one drink that reminded her of Gabe but this place seemed to lend itself to memories. Every song that popped up on the jukebox made her think of him. At that moment it was “Bubblegum Bitch” by Marina and the Diamonds. The lyrics always made her think of the different sweet-related nicknames he called her. At first she hated it but they grew on her and now whenever she heard the words “sugar,” “cupcake,” or “gumdrop,” pain squeezed a tight band around her heart.
         The night after the trickster spared her life, Dean tracked him to the university auditorium for the showdown. When the hunter returned with the news that he had killed the trickster, Y/N was actually a little disappointed. She didn’t know if his spell was still lingering but she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Three months later, she walked into her motel room in Los Angeles, dirty and covered in blood. The only thing on her mind was a hot shower and her bed. So when she saw the trickster standing in the middle of the room with a sassy smirk on his face, she stopped cold, not sure if she should be pleased or worried. “Dean killed you,” she said finally, shutting the door behind her. She could see he recognized the motion as she wasn’t going to call for help.
        “Trickster,” he replied, holding his arms out in a “ta-dah” motion. “You gotta get up pretty early in the morning to fool me.”
        “Are you here to finish the job, then?” Y/N hated how her body was responding to being in the same room as her again. She should be angry that he was alive, scared that he was here to kill her but instead she felt herself wanting to be closer to him, feel his lips on hers once more.
       “And which job would that be, cupcake” he asked with a cocky grin, taking a few steps towards her. Every instinct told her to back up, call for the boys, but instead she felt herself walking in his direction. “I already told you I couldn’t kill you. But if you’re referring to the ravishing you so deserve then, yes. I am here to finish the job.” By the time he finished his statement, they were standing inches away from each other. She was so confused. How could she be feeling this heat for a creature that she should be killing?
      “Tell me something and please be honest,” she said, her voice husky with the need to taste his lips. “What I’m feeling for you, is this your doing? Is this a trick?”
     “No.” His answer was so simple that it took her aback. She cocked her head and furrowed her eyebrows at him. His amber eyes were the most serious she had seen them.
     “No?”
     “No.” A thrill coursed through her body when he reached out and grabbed the back of her head, roughly bringing her lips to his. There it was, that butterscotch taste that she had been craving. With one hand she grasped the lapel of his army green jacket while the other hand snaked through his dark blonde hair, trying desperately to pull him closer. When he finally broke contact to let her breathe, he laughed.
     “What’s so funny,” she asked.
     “You’re a hunter, I’m a trickster. This shouldn’t be happening.” He shook his head before kissing her lips again, this time softly. Was it her imagination or did the softer kiss cause her toes to curl even more than the desperation? “It’s like someone is playing a trick on me.”
     “Maybe they are. Are there others like you out there?” He clucked her chin with his hand and grinned.
     “Sugar, there is no one else like me. Anywhere.” She returned the smile, amused by his cockiness. “There’s only one explanation then.”
     “What’s that?” The trickster slung an arm around her waist and pulled her tight against him. She exhaled an, “oof!” as she bounced off of his chest. She slid her arms up over his shoulders as he winked at her.
     “You were meant to be mine.”
      You were meant to be mine. Y/N had scoffed when he first uttered those words, she recalled, slamming down the last butter baby shot. She chased it with the Jack then let out a huge sigh. The bartender was watching her, asking with his eyes if she wanted another round. She nodded slightly even though her head was telling her to stay sober. Her heart, however, needed some help getting through the memories that were assaulting her non stop.
       “How can you not believe in destiny,” the trickster had asked after she told him his idea was silly.
        “I believe in free will,” she answered, pulling out of his grip. “I’ve seen so much bad happen to good people…I just can’t believe that things like that were destined to happen to them.”
         “Free will, huh? Ok, here’s a question for you, then.” He snapped his fingers and suddenly, laying on the motel bed was a wooden stake tipped with blood. Her stake that she lost that night. “There’s your weapon. And here’s the monster.” He spread his arms out wide, leaving his whole body vulnerable if she chose to strike. “If you’re not mine…if I’m not yours…if we aren’t meant to be together, kill me.”
         “Dude….what the….”
         “Do it,” he said, his voice gruff, his eyes hard. “Take that stake and plunge it into my heart. Finish what you started.” Y/N stared at him, her mouth agape. He was crazy. “Yeah, maybe I am crazy,” he said, startling her, “but I’m crazy for you. I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve messed with a lot of hunters and I’ve had a lot of women hotter than you…don’t get pissed,” he smiled when she huffed angrily at him. “But you…there’s something about you. Like you were made for me. After all these centuries of just drifting around, suddenly some mortal, some hunter, shows up and I’m done. I don’t want to play tricks on you, I don’t want to kill you. I want to hold you, and kiss you, and…shit, I want to be with you, okay?” his voice had taken on an edge of desperation, as if he needed her to believe what he was saying.
         Y/N walked over to the bed and picked up the stake.  She turned it over in her hands, getting used to the feel of it again. “So if I kill you, like a good hunter should, you’re wrong about destiny?”
        “Dead wrong,” he answered, causing her to laugh. She approached him slowly, the stake pointing out in front of her. She poked him in the belly with the tip lightly.
       “But if I choose not to, emphasis on choose, then somehow that proves that we’re meant to be?”
       “You got it, sugar lips.” She stared at him as she reflected on how her body reacted to him, how that kiss had made her feel. Was he right? Was her person actually a trickster? How screwed up did that make her destiny?
       “God damn it,” she breathed, tossing the stake to the floor where it immediately shimmered and disappeared. “Why you,” she asked, cocking her head to study him.
       “God only knows,” he winked, dropping his arms to his side now that he knew he was safe. They stood in the center of the room, staring at each other for what felt like forever. The trickster had a smug yet pleased look on his face and the longer Y/N looked at it, the crazier it made her. The heat between them was palpable. When she could stand it no longer, she launched herself at him, kissing him with everything she had. He returned the sentiment, his hands twining into her long Y/H/C hair and tugging her head backwards so he could delve deeper into her mouth with his tongue.
       She was overcome with the need to feel him, feel his skin on hers and she started pulling at his clothes; she slid his jacket off then ripped at his black shirt, popping the buttons clean off. He chuckled at her earnestness and returned the favor by pulling her thermal shirt over her head and tossing it to the floor.  He bent his head and kissed the tender flesh above her bra, causing her to moan loudly while she ran her hands over his bare chest and stomach. Y/N grabbed the waistband of his jeans and thumbed the button open, shoving them to the floor. It made her giggle when she saw he was wearing rubber ducky boxers. “What the hell,” she laughed, as she  trailed a multitude of kisses down his torso, sinking to her knees. Just as she went to yank the boxers off, she stopped and looked up him.
       “By the way, I’m Y/N.”
       “Yeah, I know,” he chuckled, his eyes hot as he stared down at her.
       “What should I call you?”
       “Gabe,” he replied, his face softening a little. “You can call me Gabe.
       “Gabe,” Y/N whispered, desperate as a prayer. She finished off her third line of shots, feeling sufficiently liquored up to remember the sex. The first few weeks were amazing; every time Gabe touched her, it felt like her skin was ablaze.  Not to mention that having to hide their relationship from Sam and Dean, whom she was still hunting with, made it exciting. The first time they were almost caught was when Dean showed up at the door, already half-drunk, holding a six-pack of beer and looking for some company. That had been part of her relationship with Dean from the beginning but now she didn’t even think of him that way at all. Her brain, heart, body, and soul was completely saturated by her trickster. Y/N kept the door open just enough to tell him she had someone in the room with her; understanding dawned quickly and he tried to peek in. “You gonna introduce me?”
     “God, no! This is fairly new and besides…you’re scary.” He laughed. “I will take a couple beers, though,” she said, snagging a couple before shutting the door. After that night, Dean would tease her about her new boyfriend, wanting to know details, wanting to meet him but she was able to put him off, distract him with liquor and, in desperate times, porn.
      After a few months, her relationship with Gabe cooled to where some nights they were simply happy to be in each other’s company. Y/N’s favorite thing to do was snuggle with him on a lumpy motel room bed and watch old movies. He would sneak himself into the movie and she enjoyed trying to figure out where he would appear. One night while Y/N and the boys were on the trail of a Rugaru in New Orleans, she was chilling with Gabe, watching The Thin Man when there was a loud pounding at her door. “Y/N, we gotta go,” Sam yelled as she padded barefoot across the room. “A body was found in the French Quarter!” She opened the door, peeking at as was her norm now.
     “Give me a sec, I’ll be right out, okay?”
     “That guy here again,” Dean asked from behind his brother. She nodded, starting to close the door. When a big, beefy, tattooed hand appeared above her head and flung the door open, it startled not only her but the brothers as well. “Whoa,” Dean breathed, craning his head back to take in the full view. Y/N turned around to see what the hell was going on and had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.
     Gabe had transformed into a giant biker dude. He was 6’7” and easily 350 pounds with long, black hair and a full dark beard. He was wearing ripped jeans, black boots with chains around them, a Megadeth t-shirt and a denim vest covered in patches. Every inch of skin that was showing was tattooed and he had huge silver skull rings on three fingers. “What’s up guys,” he boomed. “You must be Sam and Dean. Y/N’s told me a lot about you.”
       “Uh, yeah, hi,” Sam stuttered back, obviously not used to having to look up to make eye contact. Y/N would have bet her life savings that Gabe did that just to screw with him. “I’d like to say the same but Y/N’s kinda played you close to the vest. We don’t even know your name.” The trickster grabbed Y/N and pulled her into a tight side hug.
       “It’s Gabe. But you can call me Mad Dog. And, yeah, she said you guys were scary but you look like all right to me. Put ‘er there!” He stuck out his free hand to shake Sam and Dean’s, gripping tighter than necessary according to their grimaces. Y/N knew Gabe was enjoying this way too much and it was time to put an end to it.
       “Okay, okay, you know my big secret now…”
       “Emphasis on the big,” Dean muttered, earning a glare from Y/N.
       “Give me a second to get my stuff together and I’ll be right, ok?” Both men just stood, rooted to the spot, staring at Gabe. “Okay,” she repeated, this time louder. The brothers jerked out of their trance and nodded, walking away as she shut the door, “And you!” She rounded on her boyfriend with hot eyes, her index finger poking him in his hairy, tattooed chest. “What the hell was that?”
      “They were starting to get suspicious of me so I let them see me,” he replied, laughing as he shimmered back to his normal form. “This way, when you say you’re with me, they won’t come around bothering you. I cut a pretty impressive figure, right?” Y/N sighed; it was impossible to stay mad at him when he grinned at her like that, the right corner of his mouth tipping up roguishly.  
      “Okay, yeah, I think you shocked the shit out of them, I’ll give you that.” Shaking her head, she rushed over to stick her feet into her boots and grab her hunting bag. “I gotta go. Will you be here when I get back?”
      “Absolutely.” She walked over to him, slipping her arms around his waist to hug him. He kissed the top of her head. “Be careful.”
      That was always the last thing he would say to her before she left on a hunt and she to him when he would leave to dole out just desserts to deserving humans.
       Except that last time.
       That thought had her opening her mouth to flag down the bartender for another round but was stopped by a sweet voice in her ear. “Hi, Y/N?” Turning around, she came face to face with the prettiest woman she had ever see. Tall and curvy with shiny blonde hair that floated around her cherubic face in a cloud, she had big blue eyes with lashes a mile and a half long and pouty lips painted blood red. She was wearing a gold dress that sparkled in the rainbow lights of the club and matching heels, giving her an extra five inches of height. Y/N figured that even out of the shoes, she would tower over her. As if I didn’t feel bad enough about myself, she thought, this woman looks like a goddess.
       “Yes, you’re Jillian?”
       “I am. Thank you for coming.” Jillian sat down on a stool beside her and nodded at the bartender. Without a word, he brought her a tall, fruity drink in a hurricane glass topped by a hot pink umbrella and a lime green twisty straw. She took a long sip, closing her eyes and savoring the drink before looking over at Y/N. “So, Sam said you could help me.”
       “I hope so,” she answered. “Why don’t you tell me a little about what’s been happening.”
       “Well, it feels like I’m being watched 24/7,” she started, giving a little shiver. Jillian rubbed her hands over her bare shoulders. “But the creepy stuff, the real creepy stuff only happens when I’m here.”
       “What’s the creepy stuff?”
       “Things go missing and then appear in a place they should never be…things hurl themselves at me.” She propped a shapely leg on the rung of Y/N’s barstool and lifted up the hem of her dress, revealing an ugly bruise on her calf. “This happened about five days ago…an amp came sliding across the stage during one of my sets and slammed into me.” She removed her leg, holding out her left arm for view. She pushed her thick diamond bracelet up; underneath it was a long, angry red scratch. “This happened yesterday. I don’t even know what caused it. Or what I did to cause it.” Jillian’s voice caught and Y/N looked up to see the singer’s eyes filling with tears.
        “Don’t cry, you’ll ruin your perfect make-up,” Y/N smiled, covering her hand with hers. Jillian sniffed and giggled. “It sounds like an angry spirit. But I can help you with it,” she hurried to say as Jillian’s mouth dropped in fear.
        “You can, you really can?” She gripped Y/N’s hand tight. “You can make this stop?”
        “I can. That’s what I do.”
        “Thank you!” The woman jumped up and threw her arms around Y/N’s neck. “Thank you so much!” The hunter couldn’t help but laugh and after all the sad she had been wading through, it felt good. “Where do we start?”
        “Well, I’ll need to check this place out when it’s empty, do a sweep with my EMF meter. I’ll need to do some research on this club as well, see if anyone died violently. And of course, I’ll need to ask you more questions, figure out why this spirit has linked itself to you.”
        “Wow, okay,” Jillian breathed, pulling away from the hug. “It’s time for my set but if you want to stick around and listen, you can question me afterwards.” She smiled brilliantly and Y/N grinned back.
        “Sounds like a plan.” The goddess sauntered away, taking her drink with her. With nothing to distract her now, Y/N’s ears tuned in immediately to the jukebox. Kelly Clarkson’s “Behind These Hazel Eyes” was playing and the hunter just shook her head. What were the odds that every song this place played would remind her of Gabe?
          They had been seeing each other for a little over a year when everything changed. She and the Winchesters were hunting a band of shapeshifters in New Orleans and had tracked them to an abandoned warehouse down by the docks. Y/N was going in as lead with the brothers flanking her about six feet back, guns drawn. As she passed through the first set of doors, she paused to let her eyes adjust to the darkness. The area looked clear and she could see a second set of doors just to her left. She slowly and quietly picked her way over the gravel floor, motioning for Sam and Dean to follow. She was about five feet away from the entrance when an explosion rocked the warehouse.
         Y/N felt herself flying backwards through the air; she landed on the ground hard. All the air left her body and she felt as if she were on fire. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t see, she couldn’t hear. She tried to call for the boys, make sure they were okay, but she wasn’t sure if her voice was working either. She tried to sit up, assess the damage but she couldn’t move. Fear started to wrap itself around her as she swiveled her eyes, trying to see someone, something…anything.
        Suddenly, Sam’s face was above hers. He was dirty and bloody but he was upright. His mouth was moving; it looked like he was yelling her name but Y/N couldn’t hear anything but the obnoxious ringing in her ears. Sam grabbed her shoulders and a whole new pain shot through her body; she think she screamed but she couldn’t be sure. He immediately let go as Dean appeared above her next to his brother. They both looked worried, scared. Sam had just pulled his cell phone out of his jacket pocket to presumably call for help when there was a brilliant flash of light and Gabe showed up behind them. “Gabe…” She couldn’t tell if the whisper actually came out of her mouth or not but he shoved the Winchesters aside and was kneeling at her side.
        “Y/N, baby, oh God, baby, hold on, I’m here, I’m right here.”  Through the fog of pain, she realized she was hearing his voice in her head. It was comforting, knowing he was with her. With her in her last moments. She had accepted this and was happy that she would see the face she loved before she died. She tried to smile at him, tell him how she felt. “No! You will not die, not if I can help it!”  It didn’t surprise her that he could read her thoughts. She started to tell him how much she loved him when Sam grabbed Gabe by the collar of his coat and yanked him up, away from her. She didn’t know what they were saying but Sam was angry, yelling at Gabe. Her trickster simply snapped his fingers and the boys were gone. He turned back to her, kneeling at her side again.
        “This might hurt but just hold on to me, okay, sugar? Just hold on.” Gabe put her arms over his shoulders as he leaned over her. At first all Y/N knew was the most intense pain she had ever felt. The bright golden light surrounding her pressed against her and put out a warmth that eked into every pore of her body, softening the pain molecule by molecule until it was completely gone. Y/N sighed and let her body go limp against Gabe’s chest as he held her to him. “Come on, baby, let’s get you somewhere safe.” She realized that she was actually hearing him talk now, it wasn’t just in her head.
       “Gabe, you….saved me.” Her throat was raw; the words scraped out painfully. He kissed her forehead, letting his lips linger there for a couple of seconds.
       “Of course I did. I couldn’t lose you. I love you, Y/N, you’re my world.” She was so tired, all she wanted to do was close her eyes and sleep for a year but her trickster just told her what she had been yearning to hear for months. He loved her.
       “You love me…Gabe, you love me?”
       “I do, I love you more than anything.”
       “I love you, too,” she whispered. She lifted her face to his and he kissed her lips gently.
       “Let’s get you out of here.” He picked her up, cradling her in his arms and carrying her out of the warehouse. As they walked outside, Sam and Dean immediately besieged them. “She’s okay, guys, she’s gonna be fine,” Gabe said before they could ask any questions.
       “Y/N, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I should have taken the lead,” Dean said, grabbing her hand in his.
       “Don’t blame yourself, Dean. It’s okay,” Y/N said weakly, trying to smile at him.
       “Put her in the Impala,” Sam demanded, his voice angry. “We’ll get her to a hospital.”
      “She doesn’t need a hospital,” Gabe answered firmly. “All she needs is me. I will take care of her.” He started to walk away from the boys then turned his head to look over his shoulder at them. “We’ll be in her motel room if you want to see her when you get back.” She heard the snap, felt the dizziness and she was suddenly in her motel room, Gabe laying her down on the bed. “Close your eyes and rest, cupcake,” he directed, his voice soft, smooth like velvet. She wanted to argue, wanted to ask him how he saved her but her eyes were heavy…so heavy….
       Whens he awoke, she felt like she had been asleep for a hundred years. But she also felt amazing; there was no pain anywhere and she felt clear-minded and alert. She lay there for a few moments, savoring the feeling before forcing herself to remember what had happened. The explosion, the pain, Gabe saving her and snapping her here.
       Gabe saying he loved her.
       She sat up slowly, pushing her hair out of her face. There was her trickster, sitting at her bedside, a smile on his lips. “Good morning sleepy head,” he said, standing from his chair and sitting on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?”
        “Good,” she answered. “I feel good.” She reached out and covered his hand in hers, squeezing tightly. “Thank you for saving me.”
        “You don’t need to keep thanking me, Y/N,” he replied, leaning in and kissing her temple. “It was a completely selfish act. I couldn’t bear the thought of existing without you.” Her heart melting, she threw her arms around him and kissed him thoroughly. Just as she pulled away, the door to her motel room flew open and the Winchesters barreled in, looking scared and pissed all at the same time.
        “Hey guys,” Y/N smiled. They pulled up short, obviously shocked at how good she looked and sounded.
        “Are you okay,” Dean asked gruffly, sending a hard look at the man sitting on the bed next to her.
        “I’m fine, I feel great.”
        “Took you guys long enough,” Gabe laughed. Y/N watched both brothers’ jaws clench and eyes narrow.
        “It felt like it took a week to get here,” Sam growled, “What did you do?”
        “Y/N needed her rest. She almost died. She didn’t need you two muttonheads bothering her.” He smirked at them. “And it was only two days, not a week.”
        “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t stake your ass right here, right now,” Dean grumbled, taking a step towards the bed.
         “Dean, don’t…” Y/N started but the trickster stopped her.        
        “One,” Gabe put his index finger up in the air. “I saved your precious hunting partner. Two, I”m incredibly handsome and three…well…okay, I can’t think of a third reason but…”
        “Three, if you do, I’ll never speak to you again.” All three men swung their eyes to Y/N who looked deadly serious. “The fact that he saved my life should be enough. Maybe you could try thanking him. Unless I don’t mean as much to you as you’ve always said I do.” Both hunters had the grace to look abashed at her words, mumbling half-sincere thank you’s. “That’s better,” she praised with a smile.
         “So, I’ve gotta ask, why would you save Y/N? I mean, she’s a hunter.” Sam looked genuinely curious while Dean looked annoyed at the whole situation.
          “Yeah, and why is a hunter defending a trickster,” the older brother asked, genuinely pissed off.
          “You chuckleheads haven’t figured it out yet,” Gabe asked, laughter tinting his voice.
          “Figured what out,” Dean huffed, narrowing his green eyes. Y/N held her breath as the shimmering started and suddenly Mad Dog the big burly biker was sitting next to her on the bed. He grinned and held his arms out in a “ta-dah” motion. Watching Sam and Dean’s reactions as the realization set in would have been hilarious if it wasn’t so terrifying. As soon as Gabe shimmered back to himself, the boys exploded.
       “What the hell?”
       “Are you fucking kidding me?”
       “All this time?”
       “You’ve been running around with this asshole?”
       “How could you do that do that us, Y/N?”
       Y/N found she would rather deal with Dean and his anger rather than Sam and his disappointment. She fixed her eyes on the older brother and said, “It’s none of your business who I see,” she yelled back.
       “He’s a monster! We kill monsters, we don’t cuddle up with them!”
       “Are you really going to play that card,” she shot back. “Benny.” She waited until Dean’s mouth hardened into a flat line before looking at Sam. “Ruby.” The tall man blushed hot and looked away. “I love Gabe. Love him. And he loves me. And that’s the end of this discussion.” The brothers looked like they both wanted to argue more but Y/N’s expression deterred them. It wasn’t often she got angry with them but when she did, they knew to back off.
       “How were you able to heal her,” Sam asked finally, his voice calm as he stared at the trickster.
       “What kind of a question is that,” Gabe asked. “I brought your precious brother back from the dead, why couldn’t I do something as simple as keeping someone from dying?”
       “What? What the hell?” Dean’s eyes widened as he stared at Sam. “What is he talking about, Sam?”
        “Later.” Sam shook his head without looking at his brother. “So, you love Y/N?”
        “With all my heart.” Sam sighed and shook his head. It was hard to argue with Gabe when he was so sincere. “You’re right, Y/N, we have no right to tell you who you can be with. Just….just be careful.”
        “I will. Thank you Sam.” She swiveled her eyes over to Dean who looked like a spoiled child who was told he needed to finish his spinach before he go out and play. He finally rolled his eyes and muttered, “whatever,” before stalking towards the door. He grabbed the handle then stopped and pointed at Gabe with his middle finger.
       “You. You even think about hurting her, I will stake you so hard.” Without waiting for a reply, he stomped out the door, followed by Sam who still looked baffled by their pairing. When they were alone, Y/N let out a huge sigh.
        “Well, that went well.” Gabe laughed and kissed the side of her head.
        “Thanks for standing up for me.”
        “Of course I stood up for you. You’re mine, remember?” She caressed his cheek and kissed his lips lightly. “So…what did you mean by you brought Dean back from the dead?”
         “Oh…I might have trapped Sam in an alternate universe where he had to watch Dean die every day.” Hs tone was flippant yet he was watching out of the side of his eye for her reaction. She gasped, slapped his chest, then starting laughing.
          “Why? Why would you do that? When did you do that?”
          “Mmm….it was a couple of months ago. I did it because that caveman wouldn’t stop flirting with you.” Gabe wrapped his arms around Y/N and shifted all his weight so that he fell on top of her. She screamed at the sudden position change but settled underneath him, her hands sliding over his shoulders. “Plus, it was a good time to teach Sam a lesson. Dean’s going to die and he needs to know what life without him will be like. It’s getting closer, you know, his crossroads contract.”
         “Yes, I know. I’m trying not to think about it. Isn’t there anything you can do to save him?” Gabe shook his head.
        “Crossroad deals are binding. Even someone like me can’t break them.” He kissed the tip of your nose before pushing himself up and crawling off of the bed.
       “Where are you going,” she said, pouting just a little. He stood in the middle of the room and stared at her, his expression all kinds of serious.
       “Look, I need to tell you something. I’ve wanted to for a while now but tonight seems like the right time.” As Gabe took a deep breath, Y/N sat up so she could see him better. “An ordinary trickster, well, he can’t do the things that I do. I’m different…because…” A soft, golden glow began to emanate from his body, growing brighter by the second. His eyes began to glow blue and suddenly, a pair of golden wings unfurled from behind him. “…I’m an angel.”
       “Oh my God,” she gasped, unable to take her eyes off of the wings. They were huge, the feathers quivering with tiny electrical pulses, glowing with a light of their own.
       “Not just any angel, either,” he continued, taking a step towards her. “I’m Gabriel.”
       “The archangel,” she breathed.
       “The one and only.” Y/N stared at him for a while, taking everything in. Every time she opened her mouth to speak, she ended up closing it again because she didn’t really know what to say, how to react. “Are you okay? Is this too much for you?”
       “No….no….it’s, well, it is a lot to take in. You’re an archangel, for crying out loud. I grew up hearing about you in Sunday School.” She chuckled and shook her head, a baffled look coloring her features. “If I had told crabby Miss Parkerson then that Gabriel the archangel was my soul mate she would have stuck me in the corner for blasphemy!”
       “So. this doesn’t frighten you off? You still want to be with me?” Y/N was shocked to hear worry in his voice. She crawled off of the bed and walked up to him, sliding her arms over his shoulders and linking her hands behind his neck, careful not to touch the wings that were shooting tiny sparks between the feathers.
        “You’re mine. I’m yours. Forever. Wasn’t that the deal?”
        “It was indeed.” Gabe rested his forehead on hers, his eyes, now returned to the whiskey color Y/N loved so much, stared into hers tenderly. She could have stayed there, in that embrace, forever.
        The pain of remembering that night was still sharp after all these years and it cut her in places she thought were scarred over. She caught the bartender’s eye and signaled for another round. When Kelly Clarkson was done singing, the lights dimmed and the patrons of the club started applauding, gathering around the stage on the east end. A tall thin man with lanky dark hair dressed in a black suit with a shite shirt and red skinny tie came out and strapped an acoustic guitar around him. He started to play a soft melody that Y/N recognized as Lana Del Rey’s Born To Die. She grunted in disbelief at the opening song choice and downed the last of her shots. This was just getting ridiculous.
        When Jillian took the stage, the crowd went wild and it seemed like the number of patrons had tripled in the last few seconds. She smiled beatifically and walked the length of the stage, touching hands with fans before beginning to sing into the silver bejeweled microphone. The first note quieted the crowd as her voice floated through the air. The group swayed as one as if they were in a trance. Y/N immediately thought siren but shook her head of that silly notion; the siren’s song was transmitted through alive and it wasn’t like Jillian was out there licking people.
       Y/N watched the crowd, looking to see if they all appeared human or maybe her vengeful spirit was wandering among them. She heard one girl say that she sounded like an angel, causing her to start laughing. The laugh caught in her throat and finished as a sob.
        Gabriel was not a singer. He tried but he sounded like Scuttle from The Little Mermaid. “Where did the expression ‘sings like an angel’ come from if you can’t sing,” Y/N would tease him. He would just sing louder at her until she covered her ears and begged for mercy. She missed those times most, the fun times when she could forget that she was a hunter and he was a trickster and an angel.
        Like her, he had a job to do. He still meted out just desserts to those who deserved them, even if it was her hunting partners. Almost two years after they discovered she was seeing him, they disappeared off the face the planet for a few days. Bobby couldn’t track them, Castiel couldn’t find them. And then Cas vanished as well. She called Gabe, asking if he had a hand in this and he told her he did, that they were fine, he’d send them back soon. They just had to learn a lesson. Again. So she waited.
         And waited.
        After three days, she tried to call Gabe but he didn’t answer. Now she was worried. He always answered, no matter what he was doing. She took a chance and dialed Dean’s phone. When he picked up, she wasn’t sure if she felt relieved or more scared. They wouldn’t hurt Gabe, would they? “Where are you,” he barked. “We need to have a conversation, you and I.”
        “I’m at The Bluebird on 4th, room 27,” she answered, now more scared then ever. She tried Gabe time and again with no luck until Dean pounded on her door. She pulled it open and stood back, knowing he was going to storm in and she was right. “Are you guys okay,” she ventured, shutting the door after looking behind him and seeing no Sam.
        “Oh, we’re just peachy,” he snarled, his voice on the brink of being a shout. His eyes were brimming with anger, his jaw was clenched and his hands were balled into fists. For a split second, Y/N had to wonder if she should be worried about her safety. “That douchebag boyfriend of yours is a freaking archangel!” Now he did shout. But she was more surprised by the fact that Gabe had finally told them his secret.
        “Yeah…” Dean rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air.
        “And you freaking knew! Of course you knew! How long have you known?” Dean kept his distance, maybe, she thought, because he was so angry he just might lash out physically at her and he didn’t really want that on his conscience.
        “Since the night he saved me after the explosion,” she answered quietly. Dean closed his eyes as he absorbed the fact that she had known for two years. His fists clenched tighter before he took a deep breath and opened his eyes.
         “And you didn’t tell us why?”
         “It wasn’t my secret to tell.”
         “It wasn’t your…Jesus Christ, Y/N, you could have saved us a lot of trouble by telling us this when he told you!”
         “He asked me not to,” she said, bravely taking a step towards the angry hunter. “Besides, you wouldn’t have believed me then. That was well before Cas showed up. You would have thought he was tricking me.” Dean opened his mouth to argue but she could see he knew she was right. The anger seemed to leave his body with a sigh. “Is he okay,” she asked quietly. “Is Gabe okay?”
          “Yeah, yeah, we left him in a circle of holy fire but he’s otherwise unharmed.” Y/N could tell that he was annoyed but she didn’t know if it was by her question or the fact that Gabriel was still kicking.
         “Where’s Sam?”
         “In the car. He didn’t really want to talk to you right now.”
         “Ouch.”
         “Well, your boyfriend put him through a lot. A lot more than me, actually.”
         “I’m sorry. What was the reason for all of it?”
         “To tell us to play our roles in the apocalypse.” Dean was starting to get worked up again so Y/N closed the gap between them and grabbed his hands in hers.
          “Damn him,” she exclaimed. “I’ve asked him and asked him to see our side of things. But for eons he’s been walking around with the idea in his head that you’re Michael’s vessel and Sam, Lucifer’s. He’s stubborn.”
         “Yeah, we get that.” Dean sighed again and looked her dead in the eye. “So you’re on our side and not that angel’s, right?”
        “Of course. Till the very end.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead firmly. “I’ll tell you where he’s at so you can go free him…if he needs it…I turned the sprinklers on but…” he shrugged, “…but only if you try again to persuade him this apocalypse shit doesn’t need to happen. Tell him fate isn’t written in stone.”
         “I’ll do my best,” she promised. When she got to the abandoned paper mill, she heard the fire alarm ringing but no fire trucks were in sight. She pulled the heavy door open and saw the sprinklers that Dean had activated were spitting out the last of their water supply onto a very wet, very pissed off archangel who sat cross-legged in the middle of dirty, wet floor inside a blackened ring of ashes. “Hey, hot stuff,” Y/N greeted, hoping to get a smile from him. Instead he merely raised his head and looked at her, water dripping from his head. “Baby, are you okay?” She received a shrug in return. as she kneeled next to him. “Gabe, talk to me. Please?”
        “Your friend Dean really knows how to a cut a man deep, you know that?”
        “I’m aware,” she replied, thinking how many times she got pissed at him for his insensitivity and cruel tongue. “What did he say?”
        “He brought up things I wanted to forget. Me running away from Heaven when the fighting  between my brothers got bad. I wasn’t there when Lucifer was banished. Maybe if I had manned up and stuck around, I could have fixed it. Or stopped it.”
         “Gabriel,” Y/N tried to reach for him but he shied away. It broke her heart to see her trickster so upset. “If you believe in destiny, then Lucifer’s falling had to happen. There was nothing you could have done to stop it.”
         “Actually, that destiny was set on place after the fall.”
         “Really? So…you’re saying that something unforeseen happened that caused a new destiny to be put into place?” He nodded sadly. “And if that’s true then maybe something we do, you and I, or Sam or Dean, can change destiny again?” She let her words sink in; suddenly his whole body language changed as he realized what she was saying. He stood up, his eyes sparkling again.
         “Maybe…maybe!” He clapped his hands together and winked at her. “This is why I love you…well, one of the reasons. You’re smart, you’re always thinking.” She grinned at her angel and stood up.  
      “So, why didn’t the fire department show when Dean set the alarm off,” Y/N asked as she entwined her fingers with Gabe’s.
       “Because brilliant little me warded the place before I brought The Wonder Twins in here. I didn’t want anyone accidentally wandering in.” She tilted her head, and Gabe heard her unspoken question. “Nothing I do is ever warded against you, sugar lips.” She chuckled, allowing Gabriel to finally embrace her and press his lips to hers. “Thanks for coming to get me.”
       “Thanks for rethinking your position on this whole apocalypse thing.”
       And there was the rub, Y/N thought as she came back to the present where Jillian was now singing another cover, Better In Time. By now she expected every song to remind her of Gabe so she let this one roll on by. Although she realized that Time, something she thought she would always have with her trickster, was the one thing they, in fact, did not have.
        Y/N was working a rugaru case in Indianapolis a few months later. Sam and Dean were hightailing it out to help her after a demon possession in Smithfield, IN. Sam called her from the road to tell her that they were being delayed by a storm of biblical proportions and that they were staying the night at a place called The Elysian Fields Hotel. They would catch up with her tomorrow. As soon as she hung up her phone, she heard a telltale rustling behind her and her heart soared, knowing that Gabe was there. But when she turned around to face him, he looked serious, scared. “Babe, what’s wrong?”
       “Your boys are in danger,” he blurted out. “And before you say they’re always in danger, I mean serious, their ass is in the fire, they’re gonna die danger.”
       “What? How? I just got off the phone with Sam….”
       “Yeah, the hotel they’re staying at is only an operating hotel when they want it to be.”
       “When who wants it to be?” Gabe was pacing, obviously worried and it was frightening Y/N. “Gabriel, tell me what’s going on.”
       “Do you remember when I told you about that gang of demigods I hung out with millennia ago?”
       “You mean Kali and her cronies.” The tone of Y/N’s voice dropped a couple of degrees. Gabe had told her about his fling with the Hindu goddess shortly after they started getting serious. While she knew it was in the past, Y/N couldn’t help but be jealous. How could one compete with a literal goddess? Gabe stopped his pacing and gave her an exasperated, sideways glance. “Sorry. What do they have to do with Sam & Dean?”
       “They want to stop the apocalypse as bad as you guys do but they figure with Michael and Lucifer’s vessels in their possession, they can use them as bargaining chips. Zao Shen is already talking of killing them.”
      “We have to go then,” Y/N exclaimed, reaching for her hunting bag. Gabe stopped her with a hand on her arm.
      “No. You can’t.” His voice was hard, almost as hard as his grip. She flicked her eyes up to him in surprise. “Kali already has a blood spell performed on the boys. They can’t leave and I’m the only one who can get close enough to her to get their blood back. She’ll snap your neck the second you show up.”
      “I can’t just leave them to die, Gabriel!”
      “I know you can’t. That’s why I’m going. I just wanted to let you know what my plan was…you know…just in case…” He yanked her up against his body and kissed her forcefully. “I love you.”
      “I love you. Be careful, take care of my angel.” And he was gone. Y/N tried calling Sam back but the phone just went to voicemail. She hated being in the dark, waiting, wondering….and knowing he was with Kali, well, that just made her blood boil. She waited about an hour before Gabe popped back in. He looked ragged, tired, resigned. “Babe! Are you okay? Are Sam and Dean…”
      “They’re fine, we’re fine. Kali tried to kill me but I was too smart for her.” Y/N rushed up to hug him but her hands went right through him, causing his image to shimmer. 
      “Gabe?” He sighed and looked at her with sad eyes.
     “Kali is quick and I was distracted,” he admitted. “She got my blood so now I can’t leave, either.”
     “What do you need me to do,” she asked immediately.
     “Nothing. Stay right here where you’re safe.”
     “What are you planning, trickster?”
     “Look, my original mission was to go in a rescue the guys. But…things have changed.” He took a deep breath and didn’t meet her eyes when he said, “Lucifer is coming. He may already be here.”
      “Then you’ve gotta kill Kali, break the blood spell, get the hell out of there!”
      “No can do, sweetheart. I have a job to do…Dean made that very clear.”
      “Dean? Why is Dean suddenly in charge?”
      “Look, cupcake, if Lucifer is dead, this whole apocalypse nonsense stops right here, right now. And I’m the hero of the story. I have to stop running and do what’s right.”
      “Gabe, don’t be a fool!” Y/N wished more than anything she could grab onto him, keep him here with her. She could see the determination in his whiskey eyes, that he wanted to be the one to slay his brother. “You can’t take on Lucifer! He’s too strong! And this isn’t your fight!”
       “Dean said….”
      “I don’t give a fuck what Dean said!” Her scream shocked both of them. But Y/N was angry, scared that he was going to sacrifice himself this way because of some bravado Dean Winchester had spouted. “It’s not your place to kill your brother! If Dean wants him dead, he can damn well kill him himself!”
      “He’s tried.”
      “Gabe, please, please, don’t fuck everything up, please?” She reached for him, even though she knew it would do no good. “If you shimmer out of here intending to go for Lucifer, I will never speak to you again! Do you hear me?”
       “I love you, Y/N.” His eyes grew moist and soft, his lips turned up in a sad smile. He reached for her, too. “Don’t forget me. And don’t fall in love with someone new, okay?” He shimmered away before she could answer, leaving her standing there in the middle of the floor, hand outstretched, hot, angry tears coursing down her face.
       “I hate you, Gabriel,” she cried, sinking to her knees and praying for his safety. She didn’t know how long she stayed on the floor, crying, pleading, begging into the emptiness of her hotel room. At some point she fell asleep and dreamed of the devil coming for her, his red eyes glowing in the darkness, laughing about how he killed Gabriel and she was next. She awoke to the sound of pounding and yelling outside her door. Shaking the cobwebs from her head and pulling herself to her feet, groaning as her muscles stretched, she recognized Dean’s voice. Her stomach a mass of knots, she threw open the door to see the Winchester brothers standing with a tall, beautiful, dark skinned woman. “Gabriel,” she asked, hating the piteousness in her voice as the trio walked into the room.
       “Y/N, I’m sorry,” Sam started.
       “No,” she yelled, slamming the door behind her. “No! Don’t say it!”
       “He fought valiantly,” Dean said, his voice soft. “He saved so many people.”
       “Is Lucifer dead?”
       “No.” Y/N stood in the middle of her room and let the reality wash over her. Her angel, her trickster, her heart, was gone. Lost to her. Forever. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was an archangel, he was supposed to be eternal. She snapped her head up and stared at the woman.
       “Are you Kali?” The goddess, not used to being spoken to that way by humans, widened her dark eyes in surprise as she nodded. “This is partly your fault!” Y/N strode across the room to face her, pointing at her. “You crafted that blood spell on him, making it so he couldn’t leave. If he could have snapped out of there…”
      “Whoa, easy there,” Dean said, cutting her off with both hands raised in the air. He stood in between the two women, his back to Kali. “This chick can kill you with her mind…like Vader. So I’d take it down a notch or two.”
      “Right now I don’t really care.” She was still upset but she turned the volume down.
      “I understand the role I played in Loki’s death,” the Destroyer answered, her voice smooth and even. She placed a long nailed hand on Dean’s shoulder and gently pushed him out of her way. Her eyes bored into Y/N’s unblinking. “I feel great remorse for the way it played out. Here…” She held out a small glass vial that contained a golden red liquid. “This belonged to your angel. I’d like to give it to you as a small token to acknowledge the wrong I did him. And you.”
      “I-thank you.” Y/N wanted to be angry at the goddess, rail against her, but she could see Kali was truly remorseful. She took the vial and held it tight in her hand.
      “I could sense how deep his feelings ran for you, mortal. Just as I can see you truly loved your angel. Again, you have my sincerest condolences.” She nodded at Y/N before doing the same at the boys and then simply vanished.  
     “Y/N, are you doing okay,” Sam asked, once they all took in the fact that Kali the Destroyer was gone. She shook her head in response, still staring at Gabe’s blood. The tall hunter came over and put his hands on her shoulders. “I’m so, so sorry.” She nodded and whispered her thanks. Dean walked towards her, arms outstretched to pull her into an embrace but she backed away.
      “You,” she spat, looking up at him with fire in her eyes. “This is all your fault!”
      “Excuse me?” Dean looked offended.
      “You filled Gabriel’s head with all that honorable death crap! Telling him to man up and kill his brother. What right did you have to tell him that, to force that burden on him?” Y/N could feel the tears welling, threatening to push through and spill over the dam she was trying to hide them behind.
      “I’m just trying to stop the freakin’ apocalypse,” Dean shot back, obviously wounded by her words.
      “And you don’t care who you use to do it!” She took a deep breath, so close to her breaking point. “I know you didn’t like Gabriel, you’ve made that abundantly clear over the years. Was this your way of finally getting him out of your life? Goad him into playing chicken with Lucifer?”
      “Y/N..” Sam tried to intervene but she was having none of it. She rolled right over him with her words.
      “Are you happy now, Dean? Huh? Are you happy? He’s gone! The one man I ever loved, will ever love, and you killed him.” The hunter opened his mouth to defend himself but he didn’t have the time. “Don’t you even say that it wasn’t you, it was Lucifer. You may not have been the one to stick that angel blade in him but you sure as hell put him in the way of it. He wouldn’t have been there, trying to play hero if it wasn’t for you!”
      “I’m not happy,” Dean replied after a few beats of shocked silence. “I’m sorry it worked out this way, Y/N.”
      “I need to go.” Y/N ignored Dean’s apology and started grabbing her things, leaving him a stunned statue in the middle of the room.
      “Where are you going,” Sam asked.
      “Home. Colorado. I can’t…I can’t stay here, I can’t be around…” she motioned vaguely at Dean and Sam sighed.
      “Let me drive you, at least?” Y/N stopped in the middle of throwing clothes in a duffel bag.
       “I can drive,” she grumbled testily.
       “No, I don’t think you’re in any condition to drive, nevertheless all the way to Colorado. Please,” he walked over to her, and pulled her into a tight hug. She dropped the bag and started to cry, arms limp at her sides. Sam didn’t seem to care that she was sobbing all over his jacket and shirt. He simply held her until she gained enough control of herself to look up at him and say, “Ok.”
       “Ok. Thank you. Dean can pick me up whenever he’s ready, right, Dean?”
       “Yeah, sure,” he grunted, keeping eye contact with the carpet. Y/N wasn’t sure if he was unhappy at the extra driving time or feeling angry over her accusation. She let Sam help her pack the Jeep and gave him the keys when they were done. She never said another word or even looked in Dean’s direction.
       As Jillian spoke to the crowd at The Lemon Drop, Y/N counted how many years it had been since she spoke to Dean. It was going on seven. Although she did help with the procuring of some items they needed when he had the whole Mark of Cain thing going on. Y/N thought about Dean, wondering if she should give up this grudge she had been carrying around for so long. Seven years was a long time to punish someone. Maybe it was the memories assaulting her tonight but she felt like she should call him, or maybe swing by wherever he was when she was done with this case. It was a shock to realize that she actually missed Dean Winchester.  While she was at it, maybe she should stop hunting alone. It had been nice to have a partner, someone who had her back. She was tired of rushing headlong into dangerous situations with the hope that whatever she was hunting would end her suffering. As she pondered this change of heart, she fiddled with the silver chain around her neck, twisting it so the clasp that had found it’s way to the front was back behind her neck. Hanging from it was the vial of angel blood. She hadn’t taken it off since she slid it on the chain; she couldn’t. It was all she had left of Gabriel now.
       Jillian started another cover song; this time it was Shakira’s Broken Record. Y/N rubbed her hand over her face in disbelief and was more surprised to find that she had been crying then she was that this was yet another of Gabe’s songs. She realized that she hadn’t thought about the archangel’s death in a very long time, at least not the details of that night. She had kept those locked down tight for seven years and yet tonight, everything seemed to scream at her to remember every painful moment. She grabbed a cocktail napkin and wiped the tears away, hoping not too many people had seen this display of emotion.
       Y/N dug her phone out of her shirt, deciding to research this place before the show was over; she was done reliving the worst time of her life. It was time to focus on the reason she was here. She googled Lemon Drop Denver and was surprised when nothing came up except a doughnut shop and a handful of places she could buy the candy. She modified the search by adding “nightlife” to it but it only pulled up the best nightclubs that served Lemon Drop drinks. “Hey, when did this place open,” she asked the bartender.
    “No idea. I just started working here.” Nodding, Y/N entered the club’s address into google. It came up as the Sleep-E-Tyme Motel. Following the links, she discovered that it had gone out of business three years previous. Not only were there zero indications that the property had been bought or converted into a nightclub, it also had a very non-existent history as a motel. No murders, unexplained deaths, or suicides connected with the property. Even after she used a little knowledge she’d learned from working with Sam all those years and hacked into the Denver County Assessor’s Office, she ended up with nada. The property was originally purchased 75 years previously and had been ten different motels over the years. Y/N, desperate to figure this out, tried a broad search for unexplained deaths in the Denver area but nothing matched up. Giving it one last try, she plugged Jillian’s name into the search engine and came up with a giant goose egg.
      There were results for people who had her name but nothing came up about her at all. No Facebook page, no Twitter or Instagram account. In this day and age, how could a singer garner so much attention without having a presence on social media? An image search also pulled up nothing. “All right, Sam, what have you gotten me into,” Y/N said out loud as she texted him to ask who passed along the case to him.
    “I’d like to sing a brand new song tonight,” Jillian announced, as Y/N waited for Sam’s reply. “It was written by my partner in crime, my guitarist Mad Dog.” She gestured to the long haired man standing to her left, who saluted the cheering crowd with a cheeky grin. “It’s dedicated to a certain someone out there in the audience tonight. She knows who she is.” Y/N scanned the mob of people to see if anyone reacted like they knew this song was for them but no one seemed to stand out. Her phone buzzing cut her search short.
       “What case are you talking about,” Sam texted back.
       “The possible poltergeist case in Denver. With the lounge singer? Jillian?”
       “I got nothing. It wasn’t me.” There was a short pause before a second text from him popped up. “Are you okay? Do you need help?”
       “I’ll let you know,” she sent back, her mind still reeling with possible explanations. If Sam didn’t send the text, then who did? Her phone buzzed insistently now, indicating she was receiving a call. She ignored it, knowing it was Sam being overprotective, and let the call go to voicemail.
       Right now, the song demanded attention, starting out with a slow, melodic guitar riff. Confused as to where to go from here, Y/N put the phone down and turned her eyes to Jillian, the reason she was here. The singer had her eyes closed as she swayed to the beat. When she opened her mouth, her voice was smooth and effortless.
    “Everything I do, I’m gonna think of you, don’t know what else to do…You got me, you got me, baby…everything I make, I only make for you…Baby, be patient for me, and please don’t fall in love with someone new…I promise one day I’ll come back for you.” Y/N’s heart stopped when she heard the words. Surely she heard wrong. She shook her head and leaned forward on her stool, determined to pay closer attention to the lyrics. “Oh, you say you hate me now, and you burn me with your words…Calling me a fool, saying that I’ve fucked up everything…and you’ll never forgive me, though I’m doing this for you…”
      “What the fuck,” Y/N whispered, her head spinning, her heart pounding. How was this happening. Why was this happening? Jillian sang the chorus again and she heard it clear as a bell: “Please don’t fall in love with someone new.” Y/N started looking around but for what or whom, she wasn’t sure. She just knew that someone was deliberately messing with her. She didn’t understand, though, how anyone could know that Gabriel had said those words to her. She never told anyone about their last conversation.
        “Believe in you, believe in me, we’re meant to be together…” Jillian sang the next line and looked right at Y/N. It doesn’t mean anything, it’s just a song,” Y/N told herself as her eyes welled up. She didn’t want to cry again, not now. But these lyrics were meant for her. And Jillian wasn’t breaking eye contact. She stepped off of the stage and began walking through the crowd towards her. The fans parted like the red sea. It was like they didn’t even care that the woman they had been screaming for moments before was walking by. “Please don’t hate me,” she sang, causing the dam to break. Y/N couldn’t stop the tears if her life depended on it.
        “I don’t hate you, I love you,” she whispered, choking on her tears. The closer Jillian got to her, the more convinced Y/N was that she was going to shimmer into Gabriel. The vial of Gabe’s blood that she wore around her neck was starting to heat up; it was burning her skin where it hung underneath her shirt. Y/N pulled it away from her, knowing in her heart of hearts that her angel was here.
        “I promise one day I’ll come back to you…” Jillian smiled, extending a hand towards her. Y/N stood up from her barstool, holding her breath. The singer stopped in front of her, a  beautiful smile on her face. “I promise one day I’ll come back to you.” Suddenly, everything around her shimmered; the neon candy, the crowd, the bartender. In a flash it was all gone. Y/N was standing in the lobby of an abandoned motel, facing Jillian. One lone spotlight remained, illuminating the beautiful singer. Y/N reached out to touch her hand, whispering her angel’s name.  
           But her hand went right through the songstress, who shimmered as well and disappeared. The spotlight shut off. “What? No, no! Where are you? Gabriel, where are you?” She spun around, seeing nothing but dark and street lights streaming in through grimy, boarded up windows. Everything was gone. Sinking to her knees, she sobbed Gabe’s name over and over, feeling as though she had lost him all over again. Maybe she was dead and this was her hell: reliving all the painful memories of him and thinking she had the chance to have him back. Or maybe another trickster had her in his sights.
         Her rational side flared up, yelling at her to get up and investigate the situation. This whole thing smelled fishy and the quicker she got to the bottom of it, the sooner she would have answers. It wasn’t doing her any good to lay in the dirt and cry.          
She reached for her phone, planning to use the flashlight to search her surroundings until she remembered she had left it on the bar. When the bar disappeared, did her phone follow suit? Y/N sighed, wiping her tear-stained cheeks and pushing herself to her feet. If she had lost her phone in this debacle, she was screwed. She turned around slowly as her eyes adjusted to the dimness. She could make out a couple of tables, one laying cockeyed because of a broken leg, and a scattering of chairs. She didn’t see a bar or any barstools. “Damn it,” she said out loud, her voice echoing in the darkness.
      Maybe it was on the ground, she thought, having fallen when the bar shimmered away. She crouched down and started feeling around with her hands. The floor was disgusting, covered in years of dust and dirt and, “Oh, God, what the hell was that,” she asked, praying it wasn’t animal droppings she just touched. Taking a deep breath and reminding herself she’s handled worse things during hunts, she crawled a few more feet before her hand touched something that felt like a shoe. A shoe that had a foot in it. As Y/N ran her hand up the shoe, she wasn’t sure if she wanted there to be a body attached to the foot or not.
      Suddenly a light illuminated the space above her. Peering up, she was startled to see Jillian’s guitar player standing there, her phone in his hand, flashlight app functioning. “Looking for this?”
       “I, uh, yeah, thanks.” As she started to pull herself up from the floor, he held out his free hand to help her. She reached out to take and it, half-expecting him to be a mirage as well. She gasped when her fingers closed around a real hand. “What’s going on,” she asked. “Why are you still here?” In the light of the phone, she could see him smile. A smile she knew like the back of your hand. “Gabe,” she whispered, her heart thumping hard against her chest. She didn’t think she could survive another letdown. “Are you real?”
      “I’m real, sugar.” He snapped his fingers and there was her angel standing before her. She didn’t move for a few moments, just stared at him, letting her mind adjust. He started to walk towards her but she stopped him, rapidly pulling a knife from her belt. “Whoa, whoa, cupcake, no need for violence.” He put both hands in front of him, his whiskey eyes wide.
      “I need to be sure I’m not in a Djinn soaked dream,” Y/N told him, drawing the large blade across her palm, opening her skin. Dark red blood spilled from the wound and onto the floor. Nothing happened, she stayed where she was, as did the man in front of her. “Okay, then,” she whispered, tearing her eyes away from the blood and looking up at Gabriel. “You’re really real. You’re really, truly real.”
       “I’m really, truly, honestly here.” He stepped up to her, bringing her hand to his lips. He kissed her palm lightly and the wound disappeared. When his lips touched her skin, Y/N gasped, the sensation so much more intense than she remembered. She looked up at him and burst into tears. He gathered her into his arms and held her while she sobbed. Seven years of pent up anger, grief, sorrow…it all came out right then. She didn’t know how long she stood there in his embrace but she finally was able to catch her breath and pull her head away.
       “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for everything I said,” she told him. “I don’t hate you, I never did.”
       “I know, I know. It’s okay.” Gabriel used his thumb to wipe away a couple of straggling tears from her cheeks and she leaned in to his touch.  
       “It’s not okay, Gabe, it’s not. I was cruel and I should never have said what I said.” Y/N grabbed his face in both hands and placed her forehead against his, standing on her tiptoes to do so. “You were so brave to take on Lucifer that way, saving all of those people, those gods. I should have encouraged you but I was scared. I didn’t want to lose you.”
       “You didn’t lose me, I’m back.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I’m back.”
       “How are you back, anyway,” Y/N asked, not wanting to remind him of the seven years of torture that she endured when she did lose him.
       “Dad put me back together.” He stepped away from her and held out his arms. “Did a fine job, I must say.”
       “I don’t understand. I thought Chuck said…”
       “When Dad revealed himself to the Hardy Boys? Yeah, they asked about bringing my brothers and me back to help fight Auntie Amara and yeah, he told them archangels were too difficult to build in such a short time. But when the dust settled and everything turned out A-OK, Dean prayed to Dad and asked him for a favor.” He smiled sweetly and took her hands in his. “He asked for me to be rebuilt. For you.”
      “D-Dean prayed? For you and I?” Gabriel nodded, his honey colored hair flopping into his handsome face. “I can’t believe it.”
      “Believe it, doll. He felt guiltier about getting me killed then anything he’s ever done.” The angel winked at her. “He misses you.”
      “I…I don’t know what to say.”
      “You could start by thanking him.” Y/N laughed.
      “Yeah, yeah, I’ll do that,” she promised on a sigh as she hugged her angel again. “So you put this whole elaborate thing together just to surprise me?”
       “Of course. Would you expect anything less?” She shook her head against his chest. “I wanted to be sure that you wanted me back. I needed you to comb through our memories together and see how you felt about me. I didn’t want to intrude if you had actually met someone else.”
      “There will never be anyone else, Gabe. Ever.”    
      “I feel the same way about you, babe.” The look he gave her melted her insides. “I have to say, though, that watching you relive my death was pretty rough. I’m sorry I had to put you through that.”
       “I hadn’t thought about that night in years. I think it was cathartic, though, something that I should have done a long time ago.” He pulled her flush against him once again before holding her out arms length, looking her up and down.
       “Damn, I love you.”
       “I love you, Gabe. I missed you.”
       “Let’s get the heck outta this dump, shall we?”
       “Let’s.” Gabriel snapped them out of the building and into Y/N’s Jeep. As she started up the car, the radio came on, blaring Led Zeppelin. She turned the volume down and said, “You know, I really liked that song you wrote.”
       “Yeah?”
       “Yeah. And Jillian’s voice was lovely. You should create her again, make her a star.” Gabe pursed his lips together, thinking about the idea as she pulled out of the motel parking lot.
        “I like it. We could make some serious cash.”
        “Better than hustling pool with the Winchesters,” she laughed. Gabe chuckled, reaching over and putting his hand on her knee. She smiled, feeling every broken piece of her knit back together.

I wish, I wish

SUMMARY: A portion of a series of letters from Leonard “Bones” McCoy.

WORD COUNT: 779 words

AUTHOR: Lydia

NOTES: I like writing somber things, if you couldn’t tell. Anyways, many “prompts” are sprinkled through this from the drabble requests. Might make shorts off those lines in the future, but for now, enjoy :)

@badwolf-nine (”please don’t leave me alone” and “I said I love you”)
@the-mormon-girl-in-the-books, (”actually, I just miss you”) 
@watsonimura, (”have you done it yet?”)


    STARDATE UNKNOWN

Well, it’s been a week here in space. We’ve just gotten out of the solar system, and things are beginning to look up. Despite the whining from Scotty and all, with his shortage of booze, the crew seems okay. I miss you, of course. I don’t know how I’ll make it five years without my best friend. Maybe these letters will help, as long as our servers don’t crash in deep space. And maybe next time we dock somewhere, maybe I can see you.

Maybe.


    STARDATE UNKNOWN

We’ve hit one month. Not too many sick people, not too many injuries. Three ground missions on new planets and four new galaxies discovered. I’ve lost one on my duty so far. His name was Alex, a young engineer who was too close to a ruptured boiler valve. Poor kid, he was dead by the time he got to the operating table. I wish I could’ve done something. I wish.


    STARDATE UNKNOWN

Two months, five deaths. Four engineers, one nurse with the slip of a needle. She was quickly killed from an infection. She didn’t go smoothly, though, and I wish I could’ve helped her pain. But how are you? I hope you’re getting these letters. Our signal is weakening, but it’s still there. I hope Earth is treating you well, I hope you’re moving quickly in ranks.

You don’t miss me too much, do ya?


    STARDATE UNKNOWN

I went on my first ground mission today as a medic. It was easy, and there were no issues, but having my feet on a rock made me miss home more than ever. It was gorgeous, and I don’t even know the name of the planet. You would’ve loved it. I’ll send pictures.

Say hi to Professor McHilo for me. It’s been awhile since I’ve talked to him. I reread an old email, and found some old papers. I am beginning to miss the Academy. Earth. Solid ground.

I wish you were there today.


    STARDATE UNKNOWN

I don’t think you’re getting these anymore, are you? You’ve stopped responding, or I’ve stopped receiving. So I guess I’m writing to space now. I’ll pretend your the stars, and I’ll message you all night. I feel just as lost in them as I am in you, anyways. It’s endless, you know, space. No wonder we’re here for five years. There’s no way a crew could go as far as we are, could get as lost as us. Poor us. I pity this ship.

Maybe you’ll get these one day. Maybe I’ll show you them when I get back.


    STARDATE UNKNOWN

Space is horrible. Being this alone, even with a massive crew. How do they stay stable? I feel like if someone bumped into me, my ass would float off into nothing. I don’t even think my messages are going through anymore. I’m writing to myself, aren’t I? Am I alone?

Please don’t leave me alone.


    STARDATE UNKNOWN

Jim was asking about you today. He was talking about back home, and a few of the people we left behind were brought up. We had a few drinks prior, so it’s blurry. I think I said I love you. I talked about your hair and your clothes, and how I think I missed you the most.

The best part? I don’t think he heard.


    STARDATE UNKNOWN

One year. Have you done it yet? Have you graduated? I think you must be, there’s no way you should be stuck at the Academy for more than four years. Are you a pilot yet? Have you flown a starship? Have you seen space? Have you left Earth? Have you forgotten me? It’s probably best if you do. It’s only been a year. I hope you have.

I pray you haven’t.


    STARDATE UNKNOWN

Day 500. Why am I still writing to you? It’s shown we have no signal, only a line to Starfleet and the other ships. Maybe you’re on another ship by now. Maybe you’re flying it. What a thought! God, I hope you’re doing well. I miss hearing your stories, and hearing about your day. I miss being able to joke with you, and you getting my humour. Actually, I just miss you. Nothing in particular, just you as a whole. I miss you.


    STARDATE UNKNOWN

I named a star after you. It was blue, like your favourite colour, bright and metallic. One of the hottest and smallest stars we’ve seen. God, it was gorgeous. No one knows I named it but me. It’s been a week and I can still see it. It’s so bright. It reminds me of you.

I wish I could see you.

I wish I were home.

(I wish, I wish, upon a star)


TAGLIST: @feelmyroarrrr