What he was doing was beyond insane. Sam knew that the Trickster was stupid powerful. With no more than a single thought, the being he was pelting with rocks now could wave a hand and make him spontaneously combust or launch him into space or throw him back in time to be consumed and ripped apart by dinosaurs or something crazy. Even so, that didn't stop Sam from snapping when he had decided to bring up the demon blood. It got under his skin more than he cared to admit; doubly so when it was coming from someone that Sam had personally developed an extreme amount of hatred for, it seemed. He hadn't even realized half of what he was doing until he had thrown the third rock at the Trickster - this time, hitting him square in the nose - who was looking more and more irritated with Sam by the minute. Sam didn't think that what he was doing was actually hurting him (there weren't any notable marks to be seen as a result of him being hit by the rocks, anyway), but he was definitely offending him. As far as Sam was concerned, he didn't care how the stupid son of a bitch felt. Why should he? After everything that the asshole had done to him and Dean, why should he care, outside of the fact that pissing the Trickster off meant that he'd probably get his ass kicked?
Right. Okay. Yeah. Maybe Sam needed to reconsider his priorities a little.
Anger subsiding slightly, he loosened his grip on the fifth rock he'd picked up and attempted to calm himself, for the sake of his, well, life. Yet even though Sam personally hadn't tossed a rock at the Trickster this time, one still somehow managed to successfully smack him upside the head all over again. Bewildered, Sam squinted past old Loki and focused on the responsible party. He couldn't help but scrunch his face into a look of a confusion at the sight of Jacen's sister standing there, looking all too smug that, she too, had been able to participate in the round of Pillage the Trickster With Rocks game Sam had started. Oddly enough, Sam found himself torn between thank god, I'm not the only one he's gonna be focused on now to whoa, whoa - hey now, you're stealing my thunder, Solo! Again: priorities. He really needed to figure them out.
This whole throwing rocks at him thing really had to stop. Maybe if Gabriel hadn't been in such a crap mood lately, he'd egg Sam on. Tell him to knock himself out, to get the whole rage thing out of his system, that way he could happily point out that the boy hadn't accomplished a single thing once he'd worn himself through. But not now. Not with everything literally going to hell and then some. Gabe didn't have the patience that he'd housed before; he didn't have the will to find any of this as entertaining as he normally would have. As Sam launched another rock at him, Gabe lifted a hand and began to muster up the power to shove the giraffe back against the car behind him. He didn't get to follow through on that, though - no, there was someone else joining in on the little riot that the Winchester had started. It wasn't his older brother, either, Gabe could tell. He didn't feel another Winchester, it was someone different. Someone he knew, someone that really, really shouldn't have been there, yet here she was. Joining in on the fun. Throwing rocks at him. It was one thing to have Sammy over here tossing things at his head out of annoyance, it was another to have Jaina go at him too. Suddenly, Gabriel felt less like an irritated grown-up about to punish a kid who clearly didn't know how to respect his superiors and more like Frankenstein being chased down by a raging mob.
Funny how Jaina could do that to him, sometimes.
"Him I get," Gabriel said, turning around to look at her with an exasperated look on his face. "But what's your problem?"