Gabriel inhaled the smell of leather, sweat, and gas station burritos as he pressed his face to the back of the front seat of the Impala.
His eyes narrowed as he looked over Sam’s sleeping form, slumped against the passenger window. Christ, driving was boring.
It had been about a month since they had sprung him from where Metatron had kept him imprisoned and, even though they were able to give him his powers back, his wings were still clipped.
“Deano,” Gabriel hissed, his face closer to Dean now. “Deeeeeean.”
“No, we aren’t there yet,” Dean replied through gritted teeth. As expected, Gabriel absolutely despised driving as a form of transportation.
Sam insisted on bringing Gabriel though, which resulted in Dean popping Excedrin like candy while Sam slept through the entire ride.
At first, Sam had tried to keep Gabriel distracted with road games and the like, but eventually he got bored with those as well (“I spy with—“ “Dean’s jeans.
” “Damnit, Gabriel! Stop reading my mind!”).
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