They left the convenience store ten minutes later, arms laden with sustenance for their ailing friend. Sam carried a plastic bag containing two quarts of chocolate ice cream and a two-liter bottle of mountain dew. "Gotta keep the fluids going, right?" Dean had said, pulling it off the shelf and depositing it into Sam's arms. Dean fumbled with his keys with one hand while holding a 9-inch apple pie in the other. "What?" he asked defensively when Sam raised his eyebrows at the pie in the store. "It's soft! And nothing goes better with ice cream than pie." he remarked decisively, clutching the pastry and heading toward the check-out.

They returned home shortly. Dean quietly pushed open the door and stepped into the kitchen. Everything was exactly as he had left it. Gabe was probably still sleeping. To confirm his theory, he slid the pie onto the crowded table as he passed and tread lightly to the living room as Sam took it upon himself to put the melting ice cream into the freezer. Peeking around the corner, Dean saw Gabe still lying on the sofa. He had apparently been tossing and turning in his sleep, because the blankets were all tangled around his legs and falling off onto the floor. His face was turned towards the back of the couch now, but as Dean watched he moaned and rolled over again to face the center of the room. "He looks bad." Sam whispered, peering around Dean to view their guest.

Gabe muttered something incomprehensible, his eyes fluttering open. He blinked wearily before noticing the two boys watching him cautiously from the doorway. "Hey." Dean said, giving a small, one-handed wave. "Feeling any better?" Gabe rubbed his eyes tiredly with a hand, looking around for a tissue. "Like a million bucks." he croaked sarcastically, finally locating the toilet paper that Dean had left atop the pile of blankets. It had rolled off him and onto the floor as he kicked in his sleep, leaving a long tail of textured cotton behind itself. Gabe grabbed the tail and yanked off a piece, blowing his nose loudly and tossing it into the waste bin. "We got you some supplies." said Dean, rifling through the plastic bag in his hand. He found the thermometer and started to tear it free from its wrapping. "First things first," he remarked, approaching Gabe and holding out the thermometer "We gotta know what we're dealing with." Gabe looked at the plastic stick in Dean's hand, an expression of irritation and amusement on his face. At first Dean thought that he wasn't going to take it, but after a moment of brief hesitation Gabe reached a pale hand forward and grabbed it from his fingers, inserting it shakily into his mouth and pressing the button on the end. The thermometer beeped knowledgeably and began counting down. Or up. Dean wasn't quite sure from this angle. Gabriel frowned and stared at it cross-eyed for a few seconds. Dean busied himself by unwrapping the rest of the medicine, waiting to see which one he should use first. Finally, the thermometer announced the completion of its task and Dean took the beeping device from Gabe's mouth. It read 103.4. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was most definitely a fever, but at least it wasn't life-threatening. They could manage it as long as it didn't climb any higher. "Okay, let's see-" Dean muttered, reading the label on the aspirin. "Nope, not that." Gabriel snorted as he tossed it aside.

"What?" Gabe smirked and pointed at the discarded bottle.

"That's for pain. Everybody knows that." Dean frowned, glancing at the bottle. He had just gone down the medicine isle and grabbed whatever he thought looked useful. He and Sam didn't get sick very often, which was surprising considering how messy they left the house. Strong immune systems, he supposed. How was he supposed to know what every single freaking bottle of medicine in the store did? He wasn't a doctor! "Well, are you in pain?" he asked snidely, flicking his gaze back to Gabe, who looked at him with a slightly confused expression.

"No-" he said slowly.

"Well if you want to stay that way, I suggest you shut up and let me read these." said Dean, shaking the bottle of Dayquil at the smaller boy. Gabe put his hands up in mock-surrender and settled back into the couch. After a couple of seconds of watching Dean scan the label, he said "Big words? You want me to help? I can go get you a dictionary." he teased. Dean smiled sarcastically at him and cracked the seal on the bottle.

"I can read just fine, thanks. And you know what else I can do?" he asked, unscrewing the cap and reaching for the tiny plastic cup that came with the package. "Punch you right in your smug, snotty face. So if I were you I would shut up and take my damn medicine." Dean finished pouring the orange, sickly-sweet smelling goop into the cup and held it out in front of him. Gabe glared for a moment at both Dean and the medicine, but finally took it. Dean held himself back from wincing as he watched Gabe toss back the medicine like a college student at a frat party. Gabe made a face and quickly grabbed the water Dean had left next to the couch to chase down the medicine. "Good stuff." he said finally, shaking his head quickly to clear it. "Reminds me of rancid oranges and burnt marshmallows." Dean chuckled.

"Hey, I don't care if it tastes like dog fur and old socks as long as it makes your fever go down. Are you hungry?" Gabe thought for a second. He held a finger against one side of his nose and then inhaled sharply to clear the blocked side. "Not really." Dean packed away the medicine and grabbed the used cup from the table. Gabe was thin already. A tiny shrimp of a kid, really. Dean often wondered how he navigated the crowded halls at school without getting broken from all the jostling. Gabe was probably less than 100 pounds already. He didn't need this sickness to make him even more underweight. No, not eating was not an option right now. "Well, too bad because you're going to eat anyway." Dean declared resolutely, offering the junior a hand up off the couch. "Come on." Gabe shrugged and pushed his blankets aside.

"It's your carpet." he replied pointedly, half-struggling to stand and half letting himself be dragged to his feet by Dean.

"Meh. I never liked the carpet anyway." Dean pulled Gabe into the kitchen with minimal difficulty and kicked a chair away from the table. Depositing Gabe into it, he turned to see Sam struggling with the leftover tomato soup he had tried to make earlier. "Nevermind, I'm definitely not hungry anymore." Gabe said quickly, watching Sam as he tried to spoon the glop out of the pot and into the garbage. Dean ignored him, Sam turned around to face them both, an expression of total and utter defeat on his face. "How-?" he began, holding out the pot.

"I'll get it." Dean cut him off, putting a hand on Sam's shoulder and taking the pot from his hands. The tomato-and-rice goo was mostly in the trash, but a few stubborn globs were still clinging to the sides of the pot. Dean cleared his throat and tossed it into the sink. "Sam, this is Gabe." he said quickly, waving a hand at each of them as they were mentioned. "Hi, Gabe." said Sam, giving a little wave.

"'Sup?" Gabe replied, sniffing and rubbing his nose. "You look familiar. Aren't we in-"

"Physics club together, yeah." Sam interjected, nodding. Gabe gave a small smile and pointed weakly back and forth between the brothers.

"I didn't realize that you guys were related."

"How?" Dean exclaimed from the sink where he was filling the pot with soap and water. He clapped a wet hand on his brother's back. "We've got the same dashing good looks, the same witty charm, the same last name, everything! We're a matching set." he teased. Sam shrugged Dean's soggy hand off his back, rolling his eyes.

"The same inability to cook?" Gabe asked, pulling the blanket more securely around his thin shoulders.

"Hey, maybe so, but luckily it's not a problem because they have these stores now where you can buy food that's already been made." Dean didn't turn around, but his comeback echoed sharply off the splashboard. Sam sighed and took his cue to open the fridge.

"We got you some pie, and-" he paused to open the freezer "Ice cream." he finished, taking said items out and setting them on the table. Gabe's eyes lit up with a spark of gluttonous interest as he laid eyes on the desserts. "A little unorthodox, I'll admit, but I'm not gonna complain." He said, reaching for the pie.

"That'd be a first." Dean muttered from the sink.

"Um, I'll get a knife and stuff for that." Sam interjected, opening the drawer and thanking the powers that be that there was still one clean knife left in the drawer as well as a fork. He grabbed a spoon for himself and a plate and bowl from the counter. Silently, he dished up a generous slice of the pie for Gabe and some of the ice cream for himself. Gabe tucked into the pie with more gusto than Sam had ever seen a sick person show towards food.

"Got a sweet tooth?" He asked.

"Mhm." Gabe grunted in response, focussed on decimating the pie in front of him.

"Well, at least you're eating something." Dean commented, shoving the mostly-cleaned pot into the drain basin and wiping his hands on his pants. "You could stand to gain a pound or two, hunger games." Gabe glared at him in response.

"Maybe I should live off of fast food and lame insults." He replied sarcastically, waving his fork at the discarded Burger King bag on the table. "I'll fit right in."

"That's a good idea." Dean nodded, grinning as he helped himself to what was left of the pie. "Sammy never eats all the fries anyway." Gabe had finished his pie now and sat back in his chair, tucking his arms around himself to ward off his chills. "Thank you." He said quietly, as if he wasn't used to the words. "For all this. It's really nice. Confusing and a little weird and slightly unsanitary, but nice."

"Don't mention it." Dean replied tightly, deciding that it was probably the closest to a compliment as the guy could do.

"Um, do you want another blanket?" Sam asked timidly, watching Gabe as he began to shiver. Gabe shook his head.

"Nah, that's okay, I just need..." he drifted off, his face flushing an alarming shade of green.

"Uh oh." Dean said, lowering his fork. Gabe swallowed thickly, unable to finish his sentence before jumping to his feet and stumbling towards the hallway.

"Second door on the left!" Dean yelled after him as Sam abandoned his ice cream to follow their sick guest. Sam the fearless humanitarian. Dean, on the other hand, was not going to leave his own food to watch Gabriel up-chuck his. No thank you. Tasting his pie one time around was enough for him. Just as he was about to get back to business, the doorbell rang. Dean almost jumped out of his seat. He hadn't known that they even had a doorbell, let alone one that worked! Glancing back towards the hallway in hesitation, he quickly decided to answer it as he heard Gabe retch loudly from the bathroom. Exiting the kitchen faster than he ever had in his life, Dean flicked back the deadbolt on the front door and yanked it open. Waiting calmly on the doormat was a person that Dean didn't recognize. He had a moment to take in dark hair, inquisitive blue eyes, and a tan-colored windbreaker before the stranger spoke. "My name is Castiel." He said in a husky, monotone voice. "Is Gabriel here?"