SPN One-Shots

Gadreel [PART 1]

Plot: Gadreel is wasting his life away in a bar and someone confronts him, this someone helps him through his hard times

Gadreel sat in a bar in the middle of nowhere. He didn't want to be there. He didn't even know what state he was in, but as long as he was there, he took advantage of the situation. He got himself a few, scratch that, a crap ton of shots. Mainly whisky, but he couldn't tell, it burnt his throat and made his eyes hazy, but that's what made it work.

The reason he was drinking so much was that he was brought back from the dead. Not just any dead, stabbed-myself-and-exploded dead. Gadreel had no clue of how or when he was brought back and these shots were starting to help get him to forget.

A man at the back of the bar was singing a tune, playing hastily along with his guitar. It was like something out of a cliché movie.
Gadreel's brain felt like it was a professional gymnast and it just did a floor routine. An unknown voice tore him out of his introspective self-loathing, though.

"Excuse me? Is everything alright?" The voice was soft and calm, like a mother reading a book to her child before going to sleep

"Does it look like I'm alright?" Gadreel slurred.

"No, that's why I asked" The voice was still calm and patient "You don't look too good, would you like some help?" Gadreel didn't even care to look at the woman, he took another shot, he was already hammered and wanted to make things worse.

"I don't need your help." Those words earned Gadreel a weary sigh from the person beside him.

"it's obvious that you do, I'm helping you, whether you like it or not."

"Hey! No one speaks on my-" He stopped his sentence to hiccup and then continued "-behalf."

"Come on, let's go" the voice was less calm, but still kind.

"Fine" Gadreel whispered the best he could for being a stumbling mess.

the owner of the voice hefted Gadreel's arm over their bare shoulder and looked at the bar tender "Add it to my tab, Rick." the voice said and the two of them exited the bar.

Gadreel looked at the ground as he stumbled along with the help of the voice.

"What's your name?" The Voice asked

"Gadreel."

"I'm Y/n"

here was silence after that quick exchange of names. After what seemed like hours to Gadreel and minutes to Y/n, they arrived at a rusty looking apartment building "This is my humble abode." Y/n said, kind of hoping Gadreel would spare a glance up from the ground

"Doesn't look very humble." Gadreel grumbled out as Y/n brought him inside. They turned right and walked down a very clean hallway. Then they walked up to a spanking brand new and clean door. "I take care of this hallway myself when I have spare time not helping drunks." Y/n said, attempting to unlock the door. Gadreel noticed their hand, it seemed blistered and bruised but still very soft.

"What happened to your hand?" Gadreel asked gruffly and blunt.

"Nothing." Y/n's soft voice was stiff as if their hands brought up a harsh memory

the door eventually opened, the room smelled like honey and lavender. An odd mix but Gadreel liked it. He then raised his head, looking around the room, everything was clean.

The walls were a nice F/c(if it's black then chose your favourite colour from the rainbow) as the street light shined in from the crisply cleaned window which had cute S/f/c curtains. The curtains and the wall matched nicely with the Black couch which sat close to the farthest right wall. The Television rested on a nice black stand which had little shelves that were filled with books

"Nice place." Gadreel complimented and then finally looked at Y/n. He was stunned by the human's features. "I never knew Human's could hold such beauty." He said, in which cause Y/n to blush

"Uh... You're drunk, let's get you to bed. I'll talk to you tomorrow about your living situation." They said and brought Gadreel  to a bedroom in the small condo. It was small and cozy, consisting of a bed, nightstand and lamp.

"I'll come wake you at 10 AM." Y/n said and closed the door behind them softly.

Gadreel laid on the bed and looked at the ceiling. A fan was spinning in circles, helping him feel drowsier and drowsier until he finally drifted off into a sleep he internally hoped to never awaken from.