Supernatural Imagines

Reality TV

"This is dumb, seriously, Y/N." Dean reached for the remote, and you swatted his hand.

"Lay off her, Dean. She never gets to watch TV anymore." Sam came to the rescue, plopping down next to you, sighing heavily.

Dean grumbled something under his breath about changing the channel as soon as that episode ended. You weren't going to let him, and clutched the remote to your chest. You loved The Amazing World of Gumball, and you didn't care if it was a kids' show. Dean liked SpongeBob, and that was just as much of one as what you were watching now, with Sam's feet propped on the coffee table, his head rested back and eyes closed. The older brother bit his thumb nail boredly, glaring at his feet.

"Hand me that blanket?" You asked, knowing it would irritate Dean more. He yanked the crocheted afghan you received as a gift from your godmother off the back of the recliner he was seated in, and tossed it at your head. It smacked your ear, knocking your ponytail loose.

"Rude." You stuck your tongue out at him. He raised his middle finger only for a split second, and you did the same.

The tv screen went fuzzy, then cut out, coming back with black and white moving stripes. "Aww, what the crap?" You groaned, ignoring Dean's mutter of "Thank God". "Sam?"

He opened his eyes a crack, "Yeah?"

You jabbed a thumb at the television. "It's not working." He gave him a shy smile, and his cheeks flushed. You loved using that trick on him. He fell for it immediately each time.

"I'll see what I can do." He strode to the box, reminding you that you really should just buy a new flat screen.

"Eh. I will eventually." You replied, not wanting to have to spend the money when you had one that still worked.

"Good thing it decided to die now. I thought I was going to have to Windex my eyes if I saw any more."

Sam hit the side gently with his palm, and before you could tell Dean to shut up, the screen came back, Gumball and Darwin talking to each other.

Turning to Dean to rub it in his face that your show was on again, you found someone else. His hair had grown just a little, not as impressive as Sam's, and he sat smiling softly, one leg over the other, his hands folded over his knees.

"Hola, amigos."

Sam spun as you growled, "Gabriel."

"Where's Dean?" The younger brother hissed.

"You're going to miss the show."

You raised an eyebrow in question, but he only shrugged, his smile becoming more apparent.

Sam moved out of the way so you could see the tv. Dean was standing bewilderedly against the red lockers of the school.

Your eyes widened. Though you were happy you didn't have to listen to him complain now, you were still worried about him.

"Gabriel, get him out of there. Aren't you supposed to be dead anyways?"

"Y/N, nice to see you too."

"Get him out. NOW."

"Or?"

"Why are you doing this?" Sam cut in.

Gabriel removed his hands from his lap and uncrossed his legs. His grin faded. "Moosey, I see you're well. And your hair's gotten longer. One of these days I should cut it, maybe a buzz?"

Sam instinctively touched the ends of his brown hair.

"Okay, assface. Joke's over. Did you want something or are you just here to be a dick?"

His expression seemed to become serious. "Oh, I did want to put Dean in there," he replied. "Just for shits and giggles, though. But I do need your help, Sam's and Dean's and yours, Y/N."