Just wanted to say I really admire your dedication to not making Warlock’s story tragic! Drama can be compelling for storytelling, but not everything needs to be. It’s cool to see you acknowledging Mrs. Dowling probably isnt a terrible mom and that warlock can be a brat just because he’s eleven and that’s how eleven year olds are, as well as trying to keep warlock safe during a v. Dangerous situation. In general the Warlock AU is great, but that really stood out to me and i wanted to say so
Thanks for acknowledging it! :D
I am really protective of all kids, even fictional ones, and I hate seeing them suffer needlessly. (Well, not counting the ones in my novel, and I still feel shitty about it, but the Plot must go on.) So if I write or draw an AU to Good Omens, I want it to be funny and nice and happy for everyone. Also, the original post was just that: funny. Warlock hangs in the background playing on his game boy. As for the parent thing, I grew up in a difficult familial setting, and age made me realise that sometimes parents are not good or evil, they’re just people in bad situations. So, even if the series showed the father as being too distracted to be at his son’s birth, it never says anything bad about the mother. (Someone commented that she was a bad person because she named her son Warlock and this is the most ridiculous argument I have ever heard.) Anyway, being 11 is hard, a mother can be stressed and in the middle of a divorce, and sometimes you just need time away from home and just hang out with other people who love you and are safe if one doesn’t count the whole Armageddon thing.
Hi! Y'all always have the best fic recs, so since there isn't a convenient tag on A03, I thought I'd ask y'all first. I just reread the fic 'i was found and now I don't roam these streets' and now I'm seriously craving more fics with volunteer work in them. Do y'all know of any stucky fics with a lot of focus on the guys volunteering or another form of community involvement?
took my love, took it down has Bucky working in an animal shelter, and I know Ain’t No Grave (Can Keep My Body Down) doesn’t have community service but it had Bucky taking in a few kids and lowkey helping out vets, but has some themes that should be heeded. Here is an ao3 general search, but it doesn’t look great. Followers, do you have any ideas?
I dont think you were being aggressive about the peacock thing. You actually seemed pretty polite and just scrambling to make sure no one got the wrong impression. You handled it fine :)
Thanks, eh, I know it’s hard to read tone and it can often be distorted by our moods.
Summary: Dean gets stressed trying to arrange the ‘perfect’ Christmas for Sammy, Gabriel helps out.
Rated Teen for a couple of bad words
(Not the way I wanted it to turn out, but I hope you enjoy just the same)
Sam glanced over at his brother and smiled fondly, Dean was asleep, slumped in the passenger seat, almost swallowed up by one of Sam’s own hoodies and the rest of his clothes. He was exhausted, the hunt had been brutal, two rugarus had been terrorizing a little town, the authorities were stumped, and the locals hadn’t liked two strangers turning up to deal with their ‘problem’. It had been a lot of hard work, both of them had been injured, Dean more so, he’d leapt in the way, as usual, giving Sam time to take one out before they’d been able to regroup and take out the other one too.
It had taken a day for both of them to rest up enough (and for Dean to stop bleeding) to tackle the trip back to the Bunker. Dean had been reluctant at first, they’d not yet repaired the damage from his stint as a demon, but Sam could still put his puppy dog eyes to good use. So here they were on the first day of December, about ten minutes out from the Bunker and Sam was quite pleased to be there.
Intrigued too. Castiel had sent him a brief text earlier when they’d stopped for fuel and swapped over drivers, asking him when they’d be back at the Bunker. He hadn’t said why or answered Sam’s text when he’d sent him an ETA, so the younger Winchester was curious. He didn’t have long to wait, Sam could recognise features in the landscape now: that stand of trees over yonder, that gnarly bush indicating a sharp turn in the road, and he began to relax. Soon enough the Bunker came into view, along with Cas’ hunk of junk pimpmobile car parked out front. The Angel himself got out of it when Sam pulled up behind it and parked the Impala and he was smiling. Not the gentle expression he kept for the pair of brothers when he found them cute, but a big, wide grin, which was unusual. Enough that Sam didn’t wake Dean before he got out of the car, leaving him for a moment until he figured out what was going on.
“Sam,” Cas greeted him and enfolded him in a tight hug. “It is very good to see you again. Are you well?”
Sam hugged him back and breathed him in. “Good to see you too, Cas,” he replied. “The last hunt was a bitch, we’re both battered. But we’ll be fine,” he assured him, letting him go as he did so.
Cas looked him up and down and, in a move reminiscent of his pre-fall days, pressed two fingers to Sam’s forehead. Immediately the big human felt a lot better, his aches and pains disappeared, along with his tiredness and he blinked in shock at the Angel. “Are you …. back to full strength?” he asked, surprised.
Cas smiled again, the shit-eating grin back on his face. “I am,” he told him. “My own Grace. It was stored in Heaven.”
Sam frowned and stepped back, intent on getting to his brother still sleeping in the car. Anything from Heaven was not good news in his eyes; Metatron had killed Dean with impunity after using Cas to do his dirty work. “How did you get it back?” he asked him bluntly, and manoeuvred himself in between the Angel and the Impala.
“It’s not what you’re thinking, Sam,” Cas told him, his smile fading somewhat. He turned to his car and reached for the passenger door handle. It opened before he could and someone else climbed out of the car.
“That’ll be me,” a voice he remembered well told him.
Sam stared at the Archangel Gabriel in shock for a moment, gaping at them. “What then…? Are you…? Cas, is he real?”
Gabriel rolled his eyes while Cas nodded. “It is really him,” he assured him. “Not a construct of Metatron.”
Sam was concerned, Gabriel hadn’t been their most consistent ally, he’d spent months killing Dean after all, but he had taken on Lucifer so they could get away. And then there was…
“Where’s Dean-o?” the Archangel asked, and moved so he could see around the taller man. “You locked him in the car or what?”
Sam sighed, knowing the angel would go and wake his brother, scaring him stupid at the same time. That might be funny to watch, but the pout and resulting sulk would be epic, so he turned and walked back to the car. He gently tapped on the passenger window and smiled down at his brother when he started awake and looked up at him bleary eyed. Sam opened the door and held out a hand to him to help him up. “We’re back,” he told him as Dean, surprisingly, took his hand and his help. “And we have guests.”
Dean frowned at him as he allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. “Who?” he asked, and turned when Sam indicated to the Angels with a nod. He spotted Cas first, grinned at him and limped round the car to get to him. Then spotted the other Angel and stopped dead. His eyes widened in shock and he started to limp over to him instead. “Gabriel? Really?”
The Archangel nodded and made his way over to him, stopping only a foot in front of him. They hadn’t parted on the best of terms but he’d hoped the elder Winchester would look past that and remember some of the more enjoyable times they’d shared. It seemed he did from the sudden grin that appeared on his face and the way he moved forward to close the gap between them. Gabriel had known a lot of humans in his long, long life but none of them had affected him as Dean had. He could put him into a rage black out from his stubbornness alone, but he could also make him feel elated and very happy the next moment. And the hugs? Sublime.
Dean embraced him tightly, using his whole body to pull him close, warm, welcoming and easy to return in kind. “Gabriel,” he murmured, his voice muffled in the angel’s soft, golden hair.
“Hey kiddo,” Gabriel greeted him as he held him tightly back. “I missed you.” It took only a momentary use of Grace to heal the various injuries his armful was carrying, easy enough to do and Dean relaxed in his arms as the warmth of it spread through him.
“Missed you, too,” the human murmured in reply, pressing his forehead into Gabriel’s neck. He held him tightly, not wanting to let go. “Please stay, please. Stay.”
Gabriel smiled and turned the little he could to press a kiss to Dean’s cheek. “As long as you want me too,” he assured him. “And then as long an I want too.”
***********************************
Having an Archangel, as well as a fully recharged warrior of God angel around for the duration, was great, better than great, fantastic. The Bunker was quickly transformed from the Winchesters’ base of operations hunting wise, to their very comfortable home. Gabriel took one look at Dean’s bedroom and added a few ‘embellishments’ here and there. With a click of his fingers the room was virtually doubled in size, the bed transformed into a massive one the size of which Dean had never seen before. A huge flat screen TV appeared on the wall opposite, including a Blu-ray player, games console, satellite TV box, built in Netflix, and the Angel laughed at the crow of joy Dean emitted when he saw it. He produced the exact same toys in Sam’s room across the way, and again in an area of the main library the brothers had tried to turn into a lounge area. He also added to that too, replacing the ratty old couch and putting in two gorgeous, extra large, very comfortable couches and two overstuffed armchairs in it’s place, all arranged around the new TV package and an open fire, added because he liked s’mores and toasting his own marshmallows.
Dean found the stuff he’d been obtaining to stock up the huge kitchen got friends – waffle iron, bread maker, coffee pod machine, food processor, mixer, soup maker, steamer, grill, even down to garlic press, potato ricer and margarita maker suddenly appeared in the cupboards in the large space. Cas joined in, made sure the heating for the whole bunker was up to scratch, making sure it was the right humidity for the books and paperwork stored there, adding an alcove here and there for Sam so he could find somewhere quiet to read, and quadrupled the speed of the wifi, making sure the reception was optimum throughout the bunker. He was going to transform the room he had stayed in before, but Gabriel laughed at him, told him to get the stick out of his ass and go make himself at home in Sam’s room and bed. Then the Archangel turned that room into a huge sunken bath big enough for about a dozen people.
“We’re never going to want to leave,” Dean told him when he looked into that room, standing next to Gabriel at the doorway, arm slung over his shoulders.
Gabriel looked up at him, grinned and hugged his waist. “That’s the point,” he told him fondly. “You want to try it out?”
Which was why, when Sam went to find Cas for something, he found his brother where he’d never thought he’d see him: in a huge Jacuzzi, straddling his favourite Archangel who was sprawled against the side, hands all over Dean, engaged in an epic game of tonsil-hockey. With a yelp of shock he shut the door and hightailed it back to his own room. Where Castiel was stretched out on his huge bed, wearing not very much at all, reading a book. The angel smiled up at him, inviting and welcoming, and it took the younger Winchester only a couple of moments to decide. He walked in, shutting the door behind him and walked over to his bed, pulling off his over shirt as he did so. In for a penny, in for a pound…
************************************************
It was Castiel himself who made the comment that started it all off. The four of them were sprawled across the two couches, each with their respective partner, with the TV on some movie channel with the younger Angel sparked up. “What are we planning to do for Christmas?”
Sam, stretched out on the couch, head in Cas’ lap, reading a book, looked up quickly, his gaze directed at his brother. Dean, stretched out with Gabriel, leaning against his angel’s chest, froze and stared at the iPad in his hands, suddenly not seeing what he had been reading. Gabriel behind him was not oblivious to his sudden change in mood, from languid and relaxed to stiff and tense in a matter of moments, but he didn’t understand it.
“Dean?” he queried and was going to tighten the hold he had on him, arm draped over his lover’s trim waist, but before he could Dean forced himself up onto his feet and virtually sprinted away.
“Shit,” Sam cursed and stood up quickly, planning to go after him.
“What’s wrong?” Gabriel asked him quickly, sitting up as well. “He’s got something against Christmas?”
Sam shook his head, eyes on where Dean had disappeared towards the garage. “I wasn’t very complimentary about Christmases when we were kids,” he admitted bleakly. “With everything else that’s been going on he may have been trying to ignore it.”
Cas and Gabriel shared a look, basically Gabriel telling Cas to keep Sam here and get the details from him while he went to find Dean. The other Angel nodded and grabbed Sam’s arm before he could leave. “Talk to me, Gabriel will find Dean.”
Gabriel nodded, stood quickly and flapped away to go and find his lover. As he had thought the kid was in the garage, but he wasn’t working, or damaging any of the cars there. Instead he was pacing up and down in the space in front of them, hands clenched into fists as his sides, glaring at the floor.
Gabriel watched him for a few moments and had to smile to himself. Dean was lovely anyway, magnificent when he was angry, as he was now. But he couldn’t leave him so annoyed, it wasn’t good for him, especially with the Mark, so he stepped forward and caught his arm in a tight grip. “What’s up, Kiddo?” he asked him. “You got something against excessive consumerism and wanton gluttony?”
Dean stared at him, brain working through what he’d said before he shook his head and calmed down a bit. “It’s just…” he began, huffed and paused. “Sammy,” he told him with a shrug, as if that was enough.
Gabriel frowned. “Does he not like Christmas either?”
Dean smiled slightly, just a quirk of his lips. “Sam loves Christmas,” he explained dryly. “But he’s never liked anything I’ve managed to do for him. It’s never been good enough.” He shook his head and looked away, his expression now more resigned than angry. “Whatever I did, however hard I worked, whatever I did to get stuff for him, was never enough.”
The Archangel could read him well, without reading his thoughts, and he didn’t need to delve too deeply to figure out what he’d done in the past to give his brother the best holiday he could. Gabriel didn’t delve further, he didn’t want to, he wanted to go back into Heaven and kick John Winchester back to Hell for making his oldest son into a parent for his younger one, and making him feel so crap about himself it still resonated almost nine years after the man died. “You don’t have to work that hard any more, Dean-o,” he told him and gently squeezed the arm he still held. “Between us Cas and I can come up with the best Christmas celebration that selfish brat of yours has ever seen.”
Dean nudged him with his elbow. “He’s not selfish,” he retorted. “He’s selfless, especially with me.” He thought about what he’d said before that comment and smiled. It was slow to start but a smile none the less. “Will you help me?” he asked his lover. “Sam and Cas saved me from that… that thing. The least I can do is make this Christmas the best I can for them.”
Gabriel nodded and raised his free hand, fingers ready to snap. Dean hadn’t lost any speed with their down time, he quickly grabbed Gabriel’s hand to stop him. “Help me!” he protested with a laugh. “Not do it for me. With your help I can do it RIGHT this year.”
Gabriel nodded and interlocked the fingers of their hands, smiling impishly. “I’ll help, Deanolicious,” he promised him, amused. “But I reserve the right to get him a sack of coal if I think he deserves is.”
Dean laughed and caressed Gabriel’s face with gentle fingers – he’d gotten over his ‘chick flick moments’ crap when he realised just how much he enjoyed touching his Angel – and now, even though it had only been a short time since he’d started sharing the same bed with him, he didn’t want to stop. “Don’t forget, there is nothing Sam can’t do,” he cautioned him. “Including getting back at you.”
Gabriel grinned. “I’m still the Trickster,” he reminded him and tugged him closer to steal a kiss. “Operation Reindeer is a go.”
It took about half an hour for Gabriel to start regretting his decision to help. Dean had thrown himself into it, and the chair by the desk in the garage, pulled out a notepad and pen that he normally used to jot down what he needed for the cars, and started writing lists. Not just one list either. By the time Gabriel escaped he had lists for food, drink, decorations, entertainment and was going to get his laptop for some more research and to check his account balances. So when he asked the Archangel to find out whether Sammy and Cas preferred sweet potatoes to ordinary ones he was pleased to agree and get out of there. Quickly.
Sam watched Gabriel go after his brother before he sat down on the couch again dragged his hands through his hair. “Shit,” he murmured to himself. “Shit, shit, crap, shit.”
Cas walked over to him and laid a hand on his shoulder, frowning. “What is wrong, Sam?” he asked him, concerned. “Gabriel will reassure him.”
“I know, I know,” Sam replied and looked up at him. “It’s just… he’s always worked hard for me, he’ll do as much as he can now. And he won’t let me help.”
Cas thought to himself for a few moments before he spoke again, and when he did there was a smile on his face. “Then maybe we should do something for him,” he told him and gently squeezed his shoulder. “What is he likely to do for you?”
Sam’s expression lightened and he nodded. “He’s likely to do everything he can think of,” he told him. “Which means food, gifts he can’t afford, anything he thinks I like.”
Cas nodded and conjured up a notepad and pen from somewhere that he handed to his lover before sitting down beside him. “Then why don’t we concentrate on decorations?” he suggested. “And gifts for him.”
Which was how Gabriel found them when he escaped from Dean. Seeing them together, heads together, on the couch over a notepad Sam was writing in made him groan and he conjured up a lollipop to commiserate with. “What are you two up to?” he asked, walking in. “I’ve just gotten away from Deano scribbling in a notepad.”
Sam looked up at him and frowned again. “Is he okay?” he asked. He was still a bit dubious about the Archangel, especially with Dean; he couldn’t forget the many deaths he’d had to go through those years ago. He still didn’t trust Gabriel, especially with his brother, but Castiel was persuading him, slowly, that Gabriel meant no harm. It helped remembering that Dean had grieved for the Trickster when he had … died for them and Gabriel had kept the tricks an annoyance to a minimum, for his standards anyway, so Sam was trying as well, for Dean’s sake if no-one else’s.
Gabriel huffed indignantly. “I wouldn’t leave him alone if he wasn’t,” he told him grimly. “He wants to do the holiday ‘right’ for you. I don’t know what he means by ‘right’ though.”
“He’ll do too much, take everything on himself, get stressed and won’t let us help.” Sam told him. “So Cas and I are going to help him. What are you going to do?”
“I’ve been dealing with festivals like this long before Christianity was invented by some idiot wanting to control the masses,” he retorted. “I’m going to help him,” he assured him. “I’ve already told him I know where I can get a sack of coal, Samsquatch,” he informed him. “Although coal might be too good for you.”
Sam surprised him by grinning rather than his usual huff in response. “I was gonna get you a bag of lemons.”
Dean, from bitter past experience, knew that leaving this to the last minute was not going to work. He had a month to get things sorted and being in a small town in the middle of the country was not going to help.
So the moment he could he left the Bunker in the Impala, bright and early, list in tow, and explored the town they’d made their home in. Luckily they weren’t too late to order a turkey, a huge one, from the butcher, who looked at him a little strangely until he told him they’d just moved in, were expecting family to visit, and here’s my money. After that the guy was happy to help with some suggestions of his own, especially when he realised the younger guy in front of him had cash to burn and wanted to spend it.
When Dean got back to the Bunker a few hours later he’d got bags of groceries, ordered the bird and a pork belly joint from the butcher, spoken to his wife and ordered a huge, expensive cake from her too, and figured out where he could get other foodstuffs as well. He even had an inkling of what to get his brother as a present, but he had no idea what to go for the angels. Did they want anything? Did they even celebrate Christmas? Gabriel would like all the deserts, candy and sugary sweets he was planning to get or make but what about Cas?
What about inviting people too? Garth and Betsy were the closest they had now, what with Bobby gone and Charlie somewhere else, but he was concerned about the Bunker’s protections, and the Angels. Would they want to be sharing a place with a couple of werewolves?
And how was he going to make sure they actually had time at Christmas? Hunts were coming in thick and fast, at least with the Angels with them they didn’t need to drive for days to get to them any more, but there seemed to be a glut of demonic activity, let alone the usual monster stuff they found that took up their days and nights. Time was moving on, the first two weeks of December disappeared in a flash, and he seemed to be spending his time helping Sam and Cas research, footwork with Gabriel, fighting the bad guys as a foursome, patching each other up and getting to and from hunts rather than what he wanted to be doing – finding a really good present for his brother, his lover and his friend.
Nothing was happening the way he wanted it to, or planned for. What the hell was he going to do?
Gabriel didn’t like it much, Dean was getting more and more involved in his project, out and about, hidden away in the garage to all hours or in the kitchen when he decided to try out his cooking skills on new recipes. He liked that, they all did of course, but it also meant Dean was tired when he came to bed so sex, though nice, wasn’t as epic as the Trickster God wanted it to be. He was getting less and less of it too the closer they got to the day, and he was getting bored – there were only a couple of people worthy enough for his brand of tricks in town. Cas and Sam weren’t helping much, they were as thick as thieves on their own project that they didn’t let Gabriel in on, and he was reduced to wandering around the Bunker, playing some stupid game on a phone he had purloined from Sam.
With a sigh he stamped throughout the kitchen, finding it empty, clean and tidy, no Dean, so he headed for his other hideout, the garage. It was his sanctuary, the other three left him alone in there, most of the time, but Gabriel was bored enough to go looking. And he was pleased he did.
Dean was just about to throw a wrench through the windscreen of one of the classic cars in a fit of anger. He threw it with a curse and then whirled around to see whom it was when the tool stopped in midair a few inches from the glass.
Gabriel smirked at him as he walked in, hand still up from clicking his fingers. “You’ll thank me later,” he told him when he walked over to him. “What’s up, Kid?” he asked him as he checked out the hapless vehicle. “What did this sweet little hot rod do to deserve this?”
It was sweet, a beautiful Ford V8 Deuce hot rod, a deep royal blue colour over most of the body, the engine exposed in the hood, with light blue flame decals down the fenders at the front, the windows all tinted, apart from the windscreen. Dean was obviously working in the engine, doing something to it and he was angry and frustrated with it the way he glared at him. “Everything!” he retorted to the angel. “I can’t get anything done! I wanna get this car working for Sam. I want to get him a decent present too. Then what do I get for you? And Cas? The place isn’t decorated yet, we’re eating all the food, and Sam won’t tell me if he wants anyone else here too!” He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “And it seems no one else knows how to use the washing machine either.”
Gabriel didn’t laugh, it was difficult but he managed it. Instead he stepped forward and grabbed his hands in his own, giving him a little shake. “You do realise the other three of us are here, don’t you?” he asked him. “You don’t have to do this on your own. Cas and Sam are quite capable of decorating this place. And Cas is just happy to be here with us to want anything.”
Dean relaxed and squeezed his hands back. “But there’s a week to go, and I haven’t got anything for Sam, you or Cas. I don’t know how to get what I’m thinking about.”
“Talk to me, Deano,” Gabriel told him and dragged him over to the Impala, gleaming in the lights. It always calmed her owner, and he leant back on the hood so his partner could settle in between his legs. “What do you want to get Samsquatch apart from a car?” he asked him. “As if a car isn’t enough, you big softie.”
Dean snorted a laugh and leant forward to lean on the shorter angel. “I wanted to get him a decent watch,” he answered him. “He’s always wanted one but we’ve never been able to afford a decent one, or the time to choose one.”
“Have you got one in mind?” Gabriel asked and smiled when he nodded. “What do you need for this car?” he added. “Any parts in particular?”
Dean shook his head. “Just time,” he admitted. “I’ve got all the parts here, I just need a day or two to get it working. But that’s just it; there is no time. I’ve got to pick up an order from the butcher in two days, and we need more groceries, Sam keeps eating the vegetables!” he added, his tone making it known how he felt about that.
Gabriel grinned and kissed his forehead. “You’re going to have to eat some yourself eventually,” he commented, amused. “Pickles are vegetables too.”
“I know that!” Dean retorted but he didn’t move away from him. “I just don’t want to admit it.”
This time Gabriel laughed and kissed his mouth. “You’re an idiot,” he responded fondly. “And I’m going to help you out, so stop worrying.”
Dean frowned. “I don’t know whether that makes me feel any better,” he told him dryly. And then yelped when Gabriel pinched him none too gently on the butt.
“It’s just because you’re good in bed, and I want some sex before the end of the year,” the Archangel added as dryly. “Now, get the car fixed and I’ll go organise our brothers. Got it?”
Dean smiled at him, stood up straight and saluted him. “Sir, yes sir,” he told him with a smile.
“Got it right there, boy,” his lover answered and let him go with a pat on the butt this time. “Seriously, Dean, don’t panic, I’ll be back soon. Okay?”
Dean nodded and he smiled properly as he watched the angel saunter away, back towards the main bunker. He didn’t rush; he knew how much Dean liked the view as he walked away so he gave him a good view before he got to work.
Dean studied him as he left before he turned back to the car. He did feel a bit better; a lot relieved, even though he had no idea what his lover was going to do to help.
Gabriel went to find his troops to organise, he wasn’t called General of God’s Armies for nothing, but lucky for all of them he found Sam already working on the laundry pile in the kitchen. Even as he watched Cas appeared in the kitchen with more. “I could just clean them for you, Sam,” the younger angel told him as he watched his own Winchester shove a load in the machine.
“That would be cheating,” Sam replied and set the machine off with a flourish. He stood and looked over at Gabriel. “How’s my brother?” he asked him. “More stressed?”
Gabriel nodded, not surprised he’d noticed. “Yep,” he replied. “I’m going to take him away for a couple of days, You’re going to decorate this place in that time. Right?”
Cas looked around, just about to use Grace to do that, but Gabriel raised a hand. “Uh uh uh, little bro,” he said, shaking his head. “Like Sam said, that’s cheating. If you use Grace to decorate anywhere you two can reach, you’re going to be the angel on top of the tree. Understand?”
Cas looked affronted, Sam tried hard not to laugh and nodded. “No… no problem,” he agreed, grinning. “Would you put him in a dress, too?”
Gabriel nodded. “With a glittery halo and lacy wings. And coal will be the least of your problems if you believed Dean when he said he didn’t want anything.”
“Give me a bit more credit than that, Gabriel,” Sam snapped at him, losing his smile. “I got him some things a while ago. What about you? What have you got for him?”
“Apart from me?” the Angel asked. “I have something for him. I hope you haven’t stored the decorations in the garage?”
Sam shook his head. “In the deepest part of the library. He’s not spotted them or the huge tree we’ve got hidden outside. Go, Gabriel, take him somewhere, we’ll sort the place out. Does he need me to pick anything up?”
“Vegetables,” Gabriel told him, and left them both with a smirk as they shared matching frowns.
Time flowed around him and Dean knew it was Gabriel’s doing. He had done a lot more work on the hot rod than he could in the supposed half an hour the archangel said he’d been gone, but he was grateful for it. He knew Gabriel was watching him from the Impala’s hood with a smile as he worked, doing something himself with his hands that he wouldn’t let the Hunter see, but he didn’t mind, Gabriel’s sheer presence was calming him and keeping him that way. Dean could see a way out now, with Gabriel’s help, he could actually visualize Sam’s face when he unwrapped the gifts. He just had to get him the watch now, but he trusted his Archangel, if he said he was going to help, he’d help – there maybe a few tricks on the way, but that was one reason why he loved him. So, when he felt he had done all he could, he looked up with a smile and wiped his hands on a rag, walking over to his lover who was sucking on a lollipop.
“Ready to go?” Gabriel asked him, and took the sweet out of his mouth so Dean could cup his face with his clean-ish hands and kiss him. “Don’t worry about packing,” he added when they broke off. “I can sort out clothes when we get there. Oh, Cas’ll look after Sam, don’t worry. Shall we?”
Dean nodded, stepped close to him and draped an arm around his shoulders to hang on. “Where are we going?”
Gabriel smiled and hugged him back, spreading his wings at the same time. “Las Vegas,” he told him. “Plenty of watch shops there, plenty.”
Las Vegas had been loud, busy, crowded, bright and crazy, and Dean suddenly realised he didn’t like huge crowds. Gabriel had solved that problem though – his presence, invisible wings, and black Amex card had gotten them where they wanted to go. Dean had managed to get what he had wanted for Sam at one of the high class jewellery stores, found something for Cas too, and had persuaded his lover to leave him alone for a couple of hours so he cold get him something too.
They’d stayed overnight in one of the penthouses of an overpriced hotel – Dean hadn’t asked how it was available, Gabriel hadn’t told – and then made it back home late the next day. To find Sam and Cas had pulled out all the stops. The tree in the alcove where the telescope normally stood was huge, virtually taking up the entire space, covered in decorations and lights, candy canes and Chuck knew what else. Garlands of tinsel and beads were draped over everywhere they could be around the main areas, and bunches of mistletoe hung in places, stalking the unwary. The kitchen was well stocked with food, the laundry had all been done, and Dean had stood and stared at his grinning brother. “What…? How…? We were only gone the night?”
Sam laughed and hugged him tightly. “Cas and I make a good team,” he told him. “All we have to do is get the bird. You did order one?” He dodged the half-hearted punch his brother aimed at him for that one.
Sam slouched on the couch he and Cas had taken as their own with Cas and watched the others as they sprawled around the living area. Dean was asleep, he deserved it, not just because he’d been cooking all morning, but all of the work he had done over the last month to make sure today had been great. He was tangled up with Gabriel, and Sam knew the reason Dean was all fuzzy around the edges was because his lover had his wings wrapped securely around him. The archangel was asleep too, he’d stuffed himself into a sugar coma with all the candy Dean had bought him, he was drooling a bit too, one hand clutching at the biggest bag of M&Ms Sam had ever seen, the other interlocked with Dean’s, the rings Gabriel had made them pressed together, just like the rest of them.
Dean had outdone himself this time, the food was delicious and there was a huge amount, and the gifts… Sam looked at the watch on his wrist and smiled at it – a huge, gorgeous Breitling, expensive and something he could never had afforded, or deserved. He’d been astounded when Dean had presented it to him, especially when he told him he had saved up for it, not used the money Gabriel was so willing to shower them with. And then struck dumb when his brother had handed him a key to the beautiful classic Ford hot rod he’d fixed up himself.
He had worried the gifts he and Cas had gotten for Dean was not enough to match those, but the way his brother had started leaking tears when he had opened one of the boxes and found the amulet he thought he’d lost so many years and miles ago alleviated that. It was now back where it belonged, around Dean’s neck, and it glittered in the light of the fire, matching the colour of the ring on his fourth finger.
Sam had never had a Christmas like it, he loved every moment, and he turned and looked at Cas who walked back over at that time, holding two mugs of eggnog, one he handed over to the younger Winchester before sitting down next to him. Sam took it with a smile and thanked him with a kiss, something he was finding easier to do in public as time moved on. “Have they woken yet?” Cas asked him quietly as he crowded in close to him and watched them both.
Sam shook his head and sipped some of the eggnog. “They might not before tomorrow,” he answered just as quietly. “They’ll probably emerge again when Garth and Betsy get here.”
Cas nodded thoughtfully. “Probably,” he agreed. It was a few minutes of drinking and watching in silence before either of them spoke again. “I did not think Gabriel was going to stop eating,” Cas said quietly as he watched his brother. “I was concerned he would explode, and there would be M&Ms everywhere.”
Sam snorted with laughter at the image of Grace-covered candy bouncing all over the place, and covered his mouth with his hand, hoping not to disturb his brother. “That would have been interesting,” he agreed.
After another pause Cas spoke again. “Have you had a good day, Sam?” he asked him curiously. “Dean worked hard on making one you would enjoy.”
Sam nodded and sipped some more drink before he nodded. “I had a great day,” he assured him. “I just wish he realised how fucking grateful I am to him, for him,” he told him. “For you, too. And yes, even for Gabriel.”
Cas smiled. “They are made for each other,” he agreed. “Gabriel is bringing Dean back to us, one trick at a time.”
Sam nodded, realising it was true as he watched them snooze together. “I will always be grateful to him if he does that,” he murmured to himself, and meant it.
Bucky seems to be getting a lot better! I guess if you're going clothes shopping, its safe/comfortable for him to leave, so What's your favorite thing to do out of the house?
"We enjoy the fresh air, and I usually tell Bucky a story or two about the past while we’re there."
Prompts? Alrighty: Ward pretends he's fine but he *really* hates the cold. Fitz decides to warm him up somehow? Cuddles, sweaters, blankets? Smut? IDK, your call.
Field agents such as himself most definitely were not affected in any way, shape, or form by the weather, and more certainly not cold weather. Even if it was freezing. And snowing. His heating unit was doing a perfectly wonderful job of assisting him through the disgusting season known as winter, which he was not affected by. Really.
He would’ve been able to easily his teammates under that illusion, at least, had Leo not let himself into Grant’s apartment. (“I texted you!” he would exclaim later, all while giggling like a madman.)
Grant had been curled up on his couch under a blanket (or three, but hey, semantics) watching an episode of Letterman he’d missed. He shot up upon hearing the door open, fumbling for the nearest heavy object to him, which turned out to be a flashlight.
Leo’s face contorted oddly upon seeing him, like he was trying not to laugh, but wasn’t quite managing it. “You’re wearing a Christmas sweater,” he said slowly, walking towards him. “…and you were using three blankets. You realize it’s like the Tropics in here, yeah?”
Trying to keep the last shreds of his dignity intact, Grant stared back stoically and wracked his mind for an excuse. Upon not finding one, he opted for the intimidation route.
It didn’t work, it would seem, as laughter burst from Leo’s mouth.
It did, however, prompt the Scot to make hot chocolate for them both (which he had, apparently, been coming over to deliver, due to Skye’s insistence).
Cuddling on the couch wasn’t exactly what Grant would’ve thought to come after that, but it was… nice, to say the least. He opened his mouth to thank him, but the words wouldn’t come. Apparently he still had a tiny bit of pride left, after all. Leo seemed to understand, however, and hummed in response, burrowing closer to Grant under the blanket.
Winter became slightly more tolerable, after that.
