Two months, twenty nine days

Sam ends up moving the archangel back to his room once he figures out that the house only contains one bedroom, one and a half bathrooms, an eat in kitchen and a small living room. No basement, nowhere but the couch to escape Gabriel.

Who by the way, talks in his sleep.

Sam hopelessly watches the angel, twisted and snoring in Sam's bed with Sam's blue sheets. It's been all night and Gabriel hasn't moved or said anything helpful, but he has drooled all over his pillows. For all Sam knows, that stuff could sell on Ebay - thirty dollars for one vial of angel slobber.

"Gabriel." Sam whispers, pulling a bit at the blanket by his feet.

"Mmm no," Gabriel's voice is muffled by Sam's pillow, but it's clearly awake.

"Gabriel, come on!" Sam pulls harder on the blanket, pulling it down to reveal a halo of golden hair.

"Said no, Sammich."

"I think you owe me an explanation," Sam growls, yanking on the blanket until it's in a ball in his arms. Only then he notices that Gabriel only is clad only in a baggy plaid shirt and a pair of (quite gripping) underwear. Sam just stands there, mortified, while Gabriel tiredly snickers.

"You like?" Gabriel laughs harder when the Hunter blushes, trying hard not to stare at the embellished angel wings, complete with the word naughty.

Sam goes through an entire list of emotions, before settling on just gaping, at the angel's (not too shabby) ass. If it didn't belong to Gabriel, the psychopath/brother-murdering weirdo, he wouldn't deny that he's checking it out.

"Where did you even get those?" Sam averts his gaze to Gabriel's face, his face heated to ungodly temperatures.

"Ah you know, here and there," he replies with a wicked smirk. "But for the time, I'm hungry! You can look at them later."

"Of course you are." Sam sighs, turning to walk back to the kitchen. "I thought you were an angel and didn't get hungry?"

Gabriel sighs. "I am, but most of my grace was used up to save us."

"So you're practically human for now? at Gabriel's nod, he sits down on the bed, the interesting choice of underclothes long forgotten. "What about Dean?"

"He's fine, I'm sure." Gabriel looks pained now. "There was only enough of my grace left over to zap us over here, but I think it should've sent Dean back to the car. Or Timbuktu."

"Fantastic. But how do we get back?" Sam watches the archangel's face contort as he works up a response, finally setting into a deep frown.

"We have to wait for my grace to restore fully before I can send us back." He looks incredibly sad, "But once I restore my grace it'll put me back on the radar."

"For who?"

"Everyone that's looking for me." He groans, "I'm the last standalone archangel that isn't trapped in a fricken cage."

Sam leans slightly towards Gabriel, and gently places a hand on his shoulder, feeling like it's the right thing to do. He's never really been one for comfort but this is what Dean would do whenever Sam was sad as a kid.

What else would he do? Sam furrows his brows trying to think. Uhh, change the subject?

"How aren't you dead?" he blurts, covering his mouth as if he can take back the rude words he uttered. "I'm so - jeez, sorry that was-"

"It's fine, kiddo," Gabriel smiles a little, pulling himself into a sitting position and covering his...revealing garments. "To be honest, I don't even know. I think dad brought me back, all I know is I woke up in a cornfield before being jumped on by demons and angels alike."

Sam cringes. "What did they want from you?"

In reply, the angel shrugs. "I don't know, they kept asking about some tablet! Hell if I know, I didn't pay attention in class."

The Hunter laughs a bit, surprised to find himself hugging Gabriel to his side. They both freeze, before Sam blushes and drops his hand. "I have no idea wha-"

"Didn't say I minded." Gabriel cocks an eyebrow, and Sam even debates going back to whatever that was, before the angel turns green. "Actually on second though I'm gonna run to the bathroom."

Sam stands up just as Gabriel rushes past him, sparkly underwear and all.

(Not that he's really, really gay or anything but Gabriel really does have a nice ass.)

"I'll...uhhh, make some breakfast, I guess." Sam lifts a finger before realizing no one but Dog can see him. He follows him out into the kitchen. "I guess just for us, eh, Dog?"

"Name her something better!" Gabriel yells from the bathroom.

"Her?" Sam looks at the dog, before yelling back to Gabriel. "How'd you know it's a girl?"

"I'm an angel you dink! She's definitely a girl! She told me!" Gabriel shouts back, before being interrupted by an extremely unattractive barfing sound. More quiet this time, he shouts, "And do you see a dick on her?"

"I - oh my god you talk to dogs. This is just great," Sam scrubs his hands through his hair, "just great, eh, Dogette?"

"No!" Gabriel yells, "Go with somewhere you've always wanted to go! Alaska! Narnia! Arizona!"

"What?" Sam looks down at the dog, who happily pants up at him. She kind of does look like an Arizona and it's a nice name... "But...how about...uhh..Mary?"

"Oh my dad it's hopeless!" Gabriel coughs twice. "Who names their dog after their - no offence Sam - dead mother?"

"Insensitive much, eh Gabe?" Sam yells back, sifting through his cupboards. He takes out a box of pancake mix before realizing his mistake at the exact same time as Gabriel.

Gabe? The archangel laughs, before violently coughing. (Puking? Spitting up a lung? Dying?) The last one irks Sam - not that he's close to Gabriel or anything - but aside from Arizona, (dammit Gabriel you win) he's all that's normal in this world.

"Shut up." Sam growls, slamming the cupboard closed before realizing he'll need a pan.

After searching a bit, Sam finds one and begins heating it on the stove while Gabriel sifts through his cupboards for some sort of nausea preventative medicine.

"Tums!" Gabriel sounds relieved to pull out a large bottle of the fruit flavored pills. "Oh my dad bless you!"

Sam then watches in complete silence and horror as the archangel downs the entire bottle in less than a minute, crunching loudly. Chunks of Tums fall out onto the old flannel that Gabriel found in the bathroom.

"Um, I think the bottle recommends two to four?" Sam suggests, although it's really all too late for that now. "But y'know, I guess a hundred and eighty is really the same in the eyes of an angel..."

"Tastes like candy!" Gabriel remarks, smacking  his lips together and now eyeing the pancakes. "Breakfast?"

"Yeah, I hope you're okay with them," Sam flips a perfect pancake onto his plate, while dumping a slightly burned one onto Gabriel's. (What? Self-preservation!)

In the ten seconds it takes Sam to pour the next two pancakes, both cooked ones are gone from their designated plates and in Gabriel's small hands.

"Aw c'mon man, seriously?" Sam groans, "I made those perfectly!"

"That you did, Sammy boy." Gabriel pats Sam's shoulder, leaving behind pieces of pancake and flecks of dirt from his time being held captive.

"First off: it's Sam, and secondly: wash your hands, that's disgusting!" The Hunter growls dusting off his favorite plaid shirt.

"Sorry," Gabriel wipes his hands down the front of his - no, Sam's shirt, "better?"

"No," Sam sighs, "can't you wear your own clothes?"

"I'm sure I could..." Gabriel winks at Sam, who blushes furiously and turns back to the pan, where two burnt-to-Hell pancakes wait for him.

"Dammit," he hisses, ignoring the angel's laughter.

* * *

After they eat in awkward silence, Sam quickly cleans up and calls Gabriel back to the living room.

"Can I help you?" Gabriel saunters in, wearing a sombrero that Sam clearly remembers buying that time Dean and him rode farting donkeys when they were at the Grand Canyon.

"Take that off," Sam dryly says, pointing at the hat. "And I need to know what the hell's going on."

"Whaddaya mean, Sam-I-am?" Gabriel flings the hat at the taller man, and if by chance or angel grace, it lands perfectly on his head.

"I mean," Sam angrily dumps the hat back onto the counter, "what is going on in my life? I'm in a random house that's apparently mine, my brother is gay for an angel and they're getting married, and you're here! And I'm getting checks in the mail from some restaurant that I do, but don't work at?"

"I thought we went over this?" Gabriel sighs, plopping onto the couch. (At least now decently clothed, but he didn't give up Sam's shirt, and he's practically swimming in a pair of Sam's old jeans).

"No, we know that we're stuck here, but what is here?"

"An alternate reality, obviously," Gabriel obnoxiously says, picking up a throw pillow.

"Are we physically here, or are our bodies stashed in an abandoned warehouse?" Sam's starting to lose patience with the archangel, who's worse than an ADHD kid with an energy drink. Or four.

A/N: next comment that says "actually,,,,this is False," is getting blocked because I'm sick and tired of getting 68920 of them. From my experience, energy drinks make ADHD people fckn crazy or at least they do for the people I know. So hi thanks if you haven't noticed yet there are already 6896 comments above you saying the same thing thx

"Umm, never thought about that...let's see," Gabriel lifts the pillow, as if testing it for weight, before chucking it at Sam, who gets neck chopped with a pillow.

Now, if it weren't intricately decorated with different little beads, it wouldn't hurt, but as it is, it stings like a bitch and Sam finds it difficult to breathe.

"What was that?" he wheezes. "Ow!"

"Does that answer your question?" Gabriel smugly kicks his feet up on the coffee table.

"Could've just said so," Sam rubs at his Adam's apple, which may or may not be pushed all the way back through his neck now. Holy shit, he can throw good, he thinks, angrily tossing the pillow back onto the couch.

"Take it as life experience."

Sam just glares at Gabriel, "So I'm not a Hunter?"

"You live in a suburban neighborhood with a dog, you're a waiter, and you drive a PT Cruiser." The angel dramatically sighs. "I'm gonna say no - and by the way, the girls next door want you to help them jump rope again."

"I...really?" Sam rushes to his window to find a strange looking grey car in his driveway, and beyond that: two young girls playing on his neighbor's lawn. "That's them?"

"Yep." Gabriel pops the 'p', stretching out until his joints crack loudly.

"How'd you know they meant me?" Sam asks, abandoning staring out his window for the rocking chair.

"They specifically said the tall one who's good at jumping rope," Gabriel shrugs, with a grin slowly creeping on to his face, "apparently you're very good at it."

"Shut up," Sam mutters. "It was only  one time in Las Vegas - where did you come from anyhow?"

"Heaven?" he offers, before realizing what Sam meant. "Oh, where I ended up? A fricken dumpster. Shows who my subconsciousness cares about most, eh?"

Sam furrows his brows at the angel. Was that his idea of flirting...? He shouldn't care anyhow. He's not gay, and after witnessing Gabriel's little tape that he left the brothers a few years back, Sam's certain that the angel isn't either.

Because one time doesn't define a person, right?

"I mean...shit, uhh okay that sounded wrong, but I meant my grace is naturally formatted to protect human life."

"Makes sense why you were killing all those people a few years back." Sam shoots back, even though Gabriel gave him nothing to be angry about.

"Yeah well I didn't care for them," he sticks his tongue out at Sam. "I mean, wait no, I...well yeah, but..."

"Sure thing, Gabe." There is is again.

Sam suddenly stands up, feeling oddly conflicted and flustered. He leaves the living room (and Gabriel) and opens the front door - letting Arizona out too, pleased to find it warm outside. Immediately the two girls from next door come running over, chattering excitedly.

Oh well, he thinks, better than being trapped inside with Gabriel.

"Don't destroy the house," he commands before closing the door, pretending not to hear Gabriel's faint laughter.

Archangels, man, they go from practically dead to hyperactive crazy in less than a day.

He also reminds himself not to let Gabriel use up his grace. The quicker he gets out of here, the better.