The only way Gabriel knew he'd actually made it through the right door at last was the smell (because it sure as Hell wasn't the first door he tried). For a moment he had to stop in the doorway, trying to orient himself, and then he shuffled toward the bar, hands out and with a weird sliding step to make sure he didn't walk into anything.

He still managed to stub his toes on a chair, cursing under his breath, and then his knee on a table, and was just leaning down to rub it when Castiel spoke.

The archangel froze. No. No, it couldn't be. Not Castiel--not now. Not after what he'd seen in Balthazar's soul. His stomach churned violently with anger and the need to get away both. Slowly Gabriel straightened, head turning in the direction of Castiel's voice. And he smiled, a rictus smile which showed his teeth almost more like a snarl, his expression so tight and amber eyes so hollow with sightlessness that he looked, for a moment, wild. (Or possibly insane.)

"Hello, little brother."