~.~
Gabriel's never had anyone in his life quite like Sam Winchester.
That's one fact he cannot dispute. And it's crept up on him, not hit him hard and fast from the beginning. It's been little things, insignificant things that aren't all that insignificant.
It's things like showing up in their lives again without any warning, on the run from demons and fallen angels and probably himself, and being let inside anyway.
It's things like Sam being the first to ask him whether he's human, whether he needs something to eat, water to drink. It's things like them listening to his story and Sam looking at him seriously even if Dean was mouthing off and accusing him of subterfuge in doubtful mutters. Things like Sam having sympathy in his eyes when he hears what Gabriel's been through.
It's things like the unsettling grumble in his stomach and Sam taking him through to the kitchen with something in the corners of his mouth that might be a smile. It's things like pancakes, the way Sam shoots him an aborted glance when he pushes maple syrup across the table to him. It's things like Sam ignoring Dean's pointed glances and his huffed concerns. It's Sam ignoring the uneasiness between them and sticking up for him when Dean wants him gone.
It's things like Sam saying he doesn't mind if Gabriel has the room next to his instead of one all the way down the hall. It's things like Sam herding him into the room and helping him clear boxes into a corner and make the bed without the use of Gabriel's powers. Things like coming out of the shower that first night to find his room empty, a folded pair of Sam's pyjamas and a candy bar lying on his bed.
He's never had anyone like Sam before, the man who chuckles when Dean laughs at his inability to shoot but then catches him in the corridor later, leads him outside to learn. The man who groans at his humour but bites back a smile, who wrinkles his nose at his choice of drink in a bar but punches the first sleazy guy who corners him and says it out loud.
Sam, who tries to feed him vegetables and nags at him for eating so much sugar. Sam, who leaves candy on his pillow when it's been a rough hunt and doesn't make a fuss when he hears Gabriel up all night when it's been nightmares. Sam who suffers through his fits of temper in the early mornings and spoons extra sugar into his coffee when Dean doesn't bother.
The friend who taught him to shoot straight and grins so widely when Gabriel wants to help with lore. The friend who wanted him to stay back on the Wendigo hunt when he had the flu, who told him he'd rather have him safe than with them, proving his worth. The friend who shoved him out of the way when the creature struck, who took the first wound meant for him.
Sam, who cried when he thought Gabriel was still unconscious, the pair of them alone in the hospital room. Sam, who whispered a real prayer for him when they all thought he was going to die.
It's the little things.
It's arguing over the table and learning how to cook the human way and hiding the cereal he knows Sam likes from Dean. It's Sam explaining what he's trying to do with all their library and how his eyes light when he walks Gabriel through the new system he's trying to implement. It's Sam grumbling about how messy he is but still letting him eat chocolate when he helps.
It's the way it feels when Sam throws his arm around him when they're on the sofa, and the way Sam doesn't even look like he's pretending to enjoy playing FBI Agents with Gabriel as his partner. It's the way Sam calls dibs on him for a teammate when they play boardgames on the rare free nights, how he'll join Gabriel in trash talking when they get carried away. It's how Gabriel can see Dean warming to him just because Sam likes him so.
It's being able to spend time with a little brother who'd been barely a fledgling when Gabriel deserted Heaven and who never says anything about it like Gabriel expects him to. It's the fragility Gabriel feels when Sam encourages him to spend time just with Cas, to let Castiel show him what he experienced being human to be like in the beginning.
It's the bond he's been given the chance to craft with his brother and the over-whelming way it feels to not be alone anymore. It's Castiel's patience and his pride and his hugs. It's the sparking in Gabriel's chest that surprises him, because it's been a very, very long time since he last felt real love. It's giving in to Castiel and finding he enjoys the younger man's enthusiasm. It's the indulgence of learning nature all over again and sharing a new interest in the beauty of it with him.
It's being laughed at by Dean when he and Castiel detail their days in excited voices and it's realising that Dean is no longer laughing at him. It's realising he might just belong there, after it all and after everything and it's learning that he hopes it's true. It's finding he no longer aches for the Old Days in Heaven, that he can miss them and still be happy now. It's the fact that he actually is happy, even though a Hunter's life isn't candy canes and rainbows.
It's knowing that the safety he now feels, the assurance that he can cope just like Cas did, has all been set in motion by Sam.
It's the warm of Sam's hugs when the unexpected panic of being human strikes him and how he'll hold Gabriel's hand even when they're on a hunt and everyone can see. It's the steady look Sam gives Dean the first time he's caught dropping a kiss to Gabriel's temple and the way Sam slides his gaze to Castiel and back to shut his brother up.
It's the pranks they play together and the easiness of human life that Sam creates for him. It's how, late at night and in the dark when he creeps into Sam's room, the man welcomes him into his space and wraps the duvet tight around them both. It's the familiar way Sam smells at 4am when Gabriel wakes, certain that Lucifer is after him again. It's the care he can feel when fingers card through his hair and reassurances are whispered against his skin.
It's the fact that he's learning to believe the words.
Millennia on Earth of countless bedmates, more enemies, endless adventures, thousands of years dishing out creative punishments to the ass-hats of the world, one averted apocalypse and an admittedly anti-climatic death scene at the hand of his older brother, and it's Sam freaking Winchester who's shown him what it's all worth in barely a year.
He's sure the world could turn for millennia more and there would never be anyone quite like Sam again.
~.~