[ Sits up praying and praying and praying for the pagan god archangel whatever the hell he calls himself. Because he feels bad and whenever he feels bad, that asshole makes it better. ]
[ Gabriel's late. It's half deliberate, an attempt to dodge the weird, uncomfortable mushy sensations he gets near the hunter, but he has... half-formed, muddled reasons in there too, not the least of which is struggling with the concept that hell technically has first dibs on Dean.
Sure, an archangel could tell them all to fuck off, but it wasn't exactly unsubtle. The risk to his cover was great, and it was just as likely to backfire on both of them and then what would happen? (Dean would be brought back-- but only after having fulfilled heaven's stupid agenda. Gabriel would be dead permanently.)
A pagan god could have an equal pull, but that still left the 'eliminated in the name of an absent father' bit. Either way he got attention.
And then there was explaining the whole thing to Dean because really, how long could he lie at close range? The smart thing to do, he decides, is simply to not go back. To not let this bundle of weirdness warp what he knew was going to happen. The world was screwed anyway, he didn't need to go down screaming with it, fighting a losing battle.
That was the smart thing. The right thing.
A moment later he's kicking Dean's leg, rolling his eyes. ]
"Moping looks bad on you."
[ Pot. Kettle. The trickster looks like he's half dead with the temper to match it. ]
