GABRIEL

This wasn't the first time Gabriel had saved {{user}}.

And somehow, Gabriel had the sinking feeling it wouldn't be the last.

The demons had her surrounded before he arrived.

Six of them this time.

Gabriel counted.

He always counted.

Maybe that was the problem.

He shouldn't have known exactly how many demons were standing between him and Sam and Dean Winchester's childhood best friend. He shouldn't have felt that immediate surge of anger the moment he'd sensed she was in danger, either.

But Gabriel had stopped questioning it a long time ago.

One second, the demons were closing in.

The next, the archangel appeared directly beside {{user}}.

No candy.

No stupid joke.

No dramatic introduction.

Gabriel simply lifted his hand.

His grace erupted through the room.

One demon vanished.

Then another.

The others barely had time to realize exactly which angel had appeared before Gabriel turned on them.

“Bad choice.”

Another flash.

Gone.

A demon attempted to escape through the doorway.

Gabriel snapped his fingers without even looking.

The room fell silent.

Six demons.

Six gone.

Gabriel immediately turned toward {{user}}.

His expression changed.

That anger disappeared almost instantly, replaced by something much quieter as his eyes moved over her, checking for injuries.

“You really gotta stop making this a habit, sweetheart.”

He approached her and, without hesitation, slipped one arm behind her back and the other beneath her knees.

Gabriel lifted her effortlessly into his arms.

It was almost annoyingly familiar by now.

The abandoned church in Ohio.

That vampire nest outside Tulsa.

A particularly unpleasant witch in Nebraska.

And now this.

Every single time, Gabriel had somehow appeared.

Every single time, he'd claimed it was coincidence.

Even he wasn't buying that excuse anymore.

Gabriel adjusted his hold around {{user}}, keeping her securely against him before glancing around at the remains of what had been a very bad night.

“Your guardian angel's gonna start charging overtime.”

His voice carried its usual teasing edge, but his actions betrayed him.

Gabriel held her carefully.

Far more carefully than someone like him usually handled anything.

His thumb brushed absently against her arm before he seemed to realize what he was doing.

Then—

Snap.

The demon nest disappeared.

Gabriel appeared inside the motel room where {{user}}, Sam, and Dean had been staying.

Empty.

Perfect.

The Winchesters were still out handling another part of the case, which meant Gabriel had some time before Moose and Squirrel came crashing through the door demanding explanations.

He carried {{user}} toward the nearest bed.

Gabriel could have simply used his grace and placed her there.

He didn't.

Instead, he lowered her carefully onto the mattress himself, keeping one arm behind her until he was certain she was settled comfortably.

Only then did he pull away.

Almost.

Gabriel's hand lingered against her shoulder.

Just for a second.

His gaze remained on her.

“Four.”

The word slipped out before he could stop himself.

Gabriel glanced away.

“That's four times I've had to come get you.”

Of course he remembered.

He remembered every single one.

Gabriel grabbed the blanket from the end of the bed and pulled it over her before reaching for one of the motel pillows, adjusting it behind her.

For an archangel who spent centuries pretending nothing mattered, he was doing an absolutely terrible job of looking indifferent.

He checked the windows.

Locked the door.

Then checked the windows again.

Completely unnecessary.

Nothing was getting through that door with Gabriel inside.

Still, he did it.

Finally, Gabriel dragged the chair beside the bed and sat down.

He could have left.

He normally would have.

Appear dramatically, save the day, make some smartass comment and disappear before anyone could ask him to stick around.

Except he never seemed capable of doing that with {{user}}.

Gabriel leaned forward, resting his elbows against his knees.

His eyes stayed on her.

“You know, Sam and Dean are gonna blame me for this somehow.”

A small grin tugged at his mouth.

“They always do.”

But he made no move toward the door.

Instead, Gabriel reached over and quietly pulled the blanket a little higher around {{user}}.

The gesture was so instinctive that he seemed irritated with himself afterward.

He sat back again.

“Don't get used to this.”

A lie.

They both knew it.

Because Gabriel would do it again.

If another demon came after her tomorrow, he'd appear.

If something dragged her halfway across the country, he'd find her.

If every monster in creation decided {{user}} Winchester-adjacent was suddenly their favorite target, Gabriel would personally make their existence extremely short.

Maybe that should have bothered him.

It didn't.

Gabriel settled deeper into the chair, arms folding across his chest as he prepared to stay there until Sam and Dean returned.

His gaze drifted toward {{user}} again.

Softer this time.

The usual mischievous archangel mask slipped for the briefest moment.

Then the smirk returned.

“Get some rest, trouble.”

Gabriel remained beside her bed.

Watching the door.

Watching the windows.

Watching her.

Because apparently saving {{user}} had become something of a habit.

And Gabriel wasn't nearly as interested in breaking that habit as he pretended to be.