Ten year old Sam Winchester sat on the park bench, watching the younger children play on the jungle gym. He slumped backwards, ignoring the whispering of the group of mothers to his left on a cluster of picnic blankets. He could smell the food and it was making his stomach clench painfully.
Dad was out of town. He'd left them at a motel two weeks ago, but he'd only left enough food and money for just over one. He knew Dean was stealing food for them for dinner, and he believed that Sam's school offered free lunch. It didn't, but Sam didn't want the increased chance that Dean would be caught stealing. If that happened, who knew what sort of governmental groups would get involved, and then he might be separated from Dean. Nothing was worse, in Sam's eyes, than not having his big brother. The idea gave him shivers.
Sam glanced up at the sun, judging the amount of time that had passed. He was already late back from lunch, he decided, tilting his face up into the comfortable warmth, there wasn't much point going back only to be sent to the office for being late, and it was Latin anyway. He spoke fluent Latin. It was one of the odd things Dad had insisted he learn. He didn't mind the academics so much. Sam loved knowledge the way some other boys loved sport. The self-defence training, however, hurt. But Dean insisted he keep it up, so Sam kept it up. Anything to make his big brother smile.
"Hello." Sam started, glancing to his right. He hadn't even heard the boy approach. Dean would be disappointed in him. The boy had honey coloured eyes, messy, dark blond hair, and tan skin. He was older than Sam, he judged, but younger than Dean. "I'm Gabe." He offered his hand, honey coloured eyes intent on Sam.
"Sam." He offered, watching curiously as shock flickered across Gabe's expression as Sam's palm came in contact with him. Gabe, however, was trying to muffle his Grace, as it sang brighter than it had since he had left Heaven, all those years ago
"What are you doing at the park?" Gabe asked curiously. "Shouldn't you be at school?"
"Shouldn't you?" Sam retorted. It was unexpected when Gabe threw his head back and laughed.
"Not at all, Sammy. I don't go to school." Gabe was grinning like he knew something that Sam didn't.
"It's Sam." He corrected automatically. Only Dad and Dean were allowed to call him Sammy.
"Alright, Sammy." Gabe drawled, ignoring Sam's scowl. "Do you want to go do something? This park is pretty boring, you know."
"This whole town is boring." Sam complained half-heartedly. All the towns he lived in were small and boring.
"Then we'll go somewhere else." Gabe declared, raising his right hand, fingers poised. At Sam's interested nod, he snapped his fingers.
They were in a bowling alley, half filled with people. Sam stared around himself, curious.
"Don't tell me you've never been bowling?" Gabe sounded horrified.
"Where are we?" Sam was awed. This wasn't in the town they were in at all. They hadn't moved, but they were no longer in the park. How had Gabe done it?
Gabe just grinned at him, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Ten pin bowling is the sport of gods, you know."
"I need to be back at school by the time the bell goes." Sam insisted worriedly. "Dean will freak out if I'm not there when he gets there."
"Don't worry, Sammy," Gabe declared breezily. "I'll have you back at school in time." He sucked contentedly on a spoon.
"Where did the giant sundae come from?" Sam stared at the mounds of ice cream and chocolate sauce in bemusement.
"I wanted it." Gabe seemed to think this was a matter of course. A second spoon was suddenly being twirled in his fingers. "And you do too." He extended the spoon. Sam took it gingerly, taking a tentative bite of the absurd dessert. His eyes fluttered shut in pleasure.
"That's wonderful." He declared, pleased. Gabe was staring at him, wide eyed. Sam flushed. "Uh, sorry."
He cleared his throat. "It's not your fault, Sammy." He turned away, muttering something under his breath that Sam didn't quite catch. "Let's bowl, anyway." He grinned. "The ice cream will still be there between turns."
Sam slumped in the back seat of the Impala, staring sullenly out the window. He'd had nearly three months of adventures with Gabe, adventures that Dad and Dean didn't believe happened, and he didn't want to leave this town, leave Gabe. Gabe was the best friend he'd ever had. He wiped a hand hurriedly across his face, sniffing silently. Winchesters didn't cry.
~~SPN~~
The next place Dad left them in was an old apartment that smelt of mildew. Watermarks stained the walls, and the carpet was threadbare. The furniture was basic and rickety, but it was included in the rent, so neither boy had room for complaints.
Sam was enrolled in school, as he always was. His teacher, an old lady, Susan McAlister, 'call me Miss Mac,' made him stand in front of the class for an introduction. "Do you want to tell us anything about yourself, Sam?" She smiled at him with her lipstick stained mouth.
Sam stared at her for a moment. What was the point, he was going to be gone again soon enough. But she was staring at him expectantly. "I travel around with my Dad for his work." Sam decided, "Which is why I've moved here for the next few months."
Sam settled into the seat Miss Mac indicated and did his best to pay attention.
He sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair. Dean insisted it was too long and was constantly threatening to cut it while Sam slept. It seemed that everyone believed he shouldn't be able to write a coherent sentence because of his age.
Lunchtime arrived and Sam sighed with relief. His brother was waiting in the cafeteria, money casually in his hands for Sam to buy lunch. "Hey, Sammy." Dean ruffled his hair, grinning, for once ignoring the other boys in favour of Sam.
"Sammy," a familiar voice cut through the buzz of conversation in the cafeteria and Sam froze. That was impossible. How could Gabe possibly be here? But even as he was thinking it, he was turning away from Dean to see the blond approaching him, grinning widely.
Dean tensed at the sight of him. "Who's that, Sammy?" He had stiffened, and his voice was low and angry, suspicion writ large across his features.
"It's Gabe." He was already hurrying to meet him half way, Dean keeping in step easily.
Gabe was beaming at him, eyes bright and amused at Sam's shock. "But how are you here, Gabe?"
The blond made a show of polishing his nails on his shirt. "I have my ways, Sammy." He winked at him.
Dean was leaning down, eyes narrowed. "What are you, kid?"
"Dean." Sam pushed him back. "What are you doing?"
"Looking out for my little brother Sammy," Dean deflected, "Go grab lunch. Gabe and I will be right here waiting for you."
Sam stalked off in a huff.
Dean's eyes fixed on Gabriel's. "What are you, and what do you want with Sammy?" He snarled furiously, keeping half an eye out for teachers.
Gabe didn't even flinch, seeming to disregard that Dean was significantly taller and larger than him. "I am Sammy's friend, Dean-o." Gabe drawled. He twirled a lollipop stick around his fingers. "And I'm going to be around for a long while. He'll need someone that's not you for what's coming."
Dean leaned forward. "What are you talking about?" His hazel eyes were narrowed and enraged.
Gabe ignored him. "Hey, Sammy." Sam didn't even flinch at the fingers resting on his elbow as he stalked past the two of them, clearly in a huff.
"I'm not talking to either of you." Sammy declared petulantly, flinging himself into a chair and dropping the tray holding his lunch onto the metal table. "You were arguing."
"No we weren't, Sammy," Dean immediately denied, looking to Gabe for support.
"We were establishing boundaries, is all, Sammy." Gabe's fingers still rested on Sam's forearm, although neither of them seemed to be aware of it.
Suspicious green eyes examined both of them, and Gabe and Dean carefully looked an innocent as they could manage. Eventually he huffed. "Fine then."
Gabe was sprawled across Sam's lumpy bed after school. He'd somehow managed to arrange himself so that he avoided all the broken springs. "Aren't you worried about your Dad, hunting by himself?" He asked curiously,
Sam put his pen on the desk and spun in his rickety chair to stare at Gabe. "What are you talking about? Dad's doesn't hunt."
Gabe looked suddenly awkward. "They haven't told you?" He faltered. "Oh. Wow. Okay then. That makes a lot of sense. I wondered why you never researched what your Dad was hunting."
"Researched?" Sam's eyes narrowed. "What does my Dad hunt, Gabe?"
Gabe shifted uncomfortably on the bed, before snapping his fingers. Sam was suddenly in a forest, staring at the most horrifying creature he had ever seen. It was animalistic, although clearly had once been human. It was tall and emaciated, with elongated limbs and claws instead of fingernails. Sam choked, shuddering slightly. The creature lifted its head and scented the air, a growl rippling through the stillness of the forest. No other creatures moved while this thing hunted, survival instincts killing in.
"It's called a Wendigo." Gabe explained, voice soft, even as he gripped Sam's hand. "It's a creature that was once human, but changed after specific sets of circumstances. They prey on humans, although they only wake every thirty years or so."
They were back in the bedroom. Sam was staring at Gabe with wide, traumatised eyes. "I'm sorry, Sammy." Gabe engulfed him in a hug, pressing his cheek to the top of Sam's head. "That's the sort of thing your Dad hunts. Creatures that people don't believe exist. Monsters and supernatural creatures that hurt other people."
Sam swallowed, wiping his damp eyes on Gabe's shirt. "That's why we move so often, isn't it, and why Dad insists we learn all the things we do, the Latin and weapons and everything." Gabe nodded, silently.
Sam swallowed. "Will you always be there?" He asked tremulously.
Gabe's hug tightened, and his Grace sang, even suppressed as it was. "Of course, Sammy. You're mine. I'll never leave you behind."
"I guess I don't mind moving all the time, then." Sam decided. "But that means there's so much to learn." He leaned back, his eyes bright and delighted at the idea.
Gabe groaned, but nodded. "Yes, there really is."
Dad came back, bleeding and tired. Sam watched anxiously. He'd been studying as much as he could, disregarding the extracurricular activities he usually insisted on. "He was hunting a poltergeist," Gabe explained to him, huddled together on the couch. Dean glanced at them sharply, but John didn't even seem to see Gabe.
"So, an exorcism?" Sam kept his voice low, watching his dad as he slumped on the bed, exhausted and barely conscious. Gabe nodded.
"How have you been, boys?" Dad asked, smiling tiredly.
Dean smiled, proud. "Sammy was top of his class." He announced, ruffling Sam's hair. Dad smiled vaguely, clearly not really interested. Sam wanted to mention the demonic omens he'd found the next state over, but he wasn't sure how his Dad would react to that statement. Gabe had been proud, but even Dean didn't seem to realise Gabe was there all the time, and he didn't think Dad wanted him knowing about the monsters yet.
Dean looked awkward for a moment. "Can we talk for a minute, Dad?" He asked, when he thought Sam wasn't paying attention.
"Tomorrow, Dean, alright? I'm beat right now."
"Yes sir."
~~SPN~~
Sam sprawled on the grass, glancing at the Impala. Dad had stopped on their way out of town to talk to Dean, telling Sam to go play.
"What do you think they're talking about?" He asked Gabe curiously.
"You, probably." Gabe admitted. "You suddenly knowing about hunting, and being the best researcher they could have hoped for." He grinned slightly, lifting himself on his elbows. "Do you want to go watch?" He asked curiously.
"I'd feel bad." Sam admitted. "Unlike some beings I could mention, I have a conscience."
Gabe gaped at him. "Being?" He sounded insulted.
"Well, you're clearly not human." Sam insisted, focussing on Gabe. "The continuous candy supply, the ability to be anywhere in an instant? Not really normal, Gabe."
Gabe sighed, head tilting back into the sun. "I was hoping you wouldn't question that for a while yet." He admitted with a sigh. "I'm a demigod."
Sam stared, jaw slack. "What are you doing with me?" He demanded disbelievingly.
"You're mine, Sammy. I wouldn't leave your safety to anyone else."
"Alright." Sam shook his head. "Alright. Which one, then?"
Gabe flushed slightly. "I'm the Trickster." He admitted reluctantly, watching Sam cautiously for his reaction.
Sam stared at him for a moment. Gabe's stomach dropped at the wariness in his eyes. "Are you tricking me?" He asked quietly. Gabe's heart lurched at the vulnerability Sam was displaying.
"God, Sammy, no." He lurched forward onto his knees, clinging to Sam. "No." He shook his head. "You are mine. I couldn't do that to you." His forehead was pressed into Sam's stomach, terrified to look at his face.
Small hands smoothed over his head. "Alright Gabe." Gabe released a shuddering breath. "Alright. It's alright. You're my Gabe." Only when Sam began to wordlessly croon to him did Gabe realise he was crying. The idea of Sam leaving him, banishing him, was overwhelming. Even if the banishment for a Trickster wasn't really going to work on him, he had to make it look like it would so Heaven would never find him. So if Sam banished him that was it. He shivered at the idea.
"This imaginary friend is ridiculous, Sam." John snapped, gripping Sam's upper arms hard enough to bruise. "You're too old for this nonsense. You were too old when you created it. You're thirteen, for God's sake."
"Uh, Dad," Dean spoke up quietly.
"Not now Dean," John snapped.
"But Dad." Dean protested.
"I said, not now."
"I say now." A new voice interrupted, and Sam nearly shuddered in relief at the sound of fifteen year of Gabe's voice. "Let go of Sammy."
John turned, eyes blazing. "Who the hell are you?"
Gabe's smile was razor sharp. "I'm Sam's friend, Gabe."
Sam had shoved past his Dad, flinging himself at the blond. Dean watched, grinning slightly. "Where have you been?" Sam demanded with a gasp. "I was so worried."
Gabe's hand smoothed over shaggy hair. "Sorry Sammy." He dropped his forehead against Sam's. "We had a meeting. I can't get out of them." He grinned. "On the plus side, I only have to do it every hundred years, except in cases of the Apocalypse."
"Who the hell are you?" John Winchester's strident voice cut through the space the two boys had created.
"I told you," Gabe rolled his eyes. "I'm Gabe." He grinned. "I'm a Trickster."
John froze. "You're a monster."
Gabe's eyes chilled. "No, Mr Winchester. I am a demigod. I deliver justice to those that deserve it."
"You're a monster." He scoffed. "I should kill you now."
Gabe's eyes narrowed. Sam shivered as the room filled with the feel of Gabe's power, the feeling like just after a lightning strike, making the hairs on Sam's arms prickle. "You will not." His voice rang with power, like two voices spoke simultaneously. It was weight and noise and light. Sam staggered under the onslaught. John buckled completely, staring at the teenaged body in horror.
"You will not separate me from Sammy." Gabe snarled. His voice was low, which was always scarier than when he yelled. The mad smile of the Trickster spread across his face. "Sammy is mine, more than he is yours, and as much as he is Dean's. You can do nothing to change that."
John's eyes narrowed at the challenge. Sam pressed a hand to Gabe's chest. "Come on, Gabe." His voice was pitched low and soothing. "It's fine. I will never let anything separate us. You know that."
Gabe relaxed slowly, sinking back down into his own skin. "I know Sammy."
~~SPN~~
Sam peered through the window. "There's something wrong with the way that thing has attached itself to Sam." His Dad's voice insisted. "The fact that it still gets into the apartment, with all the protections we've been putting up everywhere doesn't make sense. I don't think it's a Trickster though. It doesn't fit."
"I know, Dad, but what can we do about it?" Sam staggered slumping against the motel wall. Dean agreed with their Dad? But Dean was Sam's big brother. He was meant to defend him. Maybe Gabe was right, and they weren't completely trustworthy. His Dad was very black and white. At least Pastor Jim and Uncle Bobby saw shades of grey.
"I've been working on something. But we'll try an exorcism first. If that doesn't work, we'll research this other option I've been looking into. It might take a while though."
Dean sighed heavily. "Alright. Do we want to do it tonight then?" His Dad grunted agreement.
Gabe hand made him jump, almost banging his head against the window sill. "I heard, Sammy." He murmured, crouching next to the young boy. "It won't work, but it might be best if I stay away for a while, just until your Dad forgets about whatever it is that he's planning. It doesn't sound pleasant."
Sam clung to Gabe. "I don't care. I don't want to be separated from you." Tears filled his eyes. "You're my best friend."
Gabe's eyes softened. "I love you, kiddo, and I'll always come back." He rested his hand against the back of Sam's neck. "We'll just have to be clever about it. I won't show up in front of Dean or your Dad."
Am nodded, sniffing and wiping his nose on his shirt sleeve. "I guess." He hiccupped. "But I'll miss having you around."
Gabe pressed his cheek to Sam's head. "I'll always come back to you, Sammy." He swore, not noticing the flare of power at the words.
Sam shivered as he sat at the table, sandwiched between his dad and his brother.
"We need to talk to you, Sammy."
"It's Sam." He muttered.
"Sam. We need to talk to you." Dad rose to his feet. "Just come on." His grip on Sam's shoulder was bruising as he led him out of the house.
John stopped, and Sam noticed the symbol painted onto the ground. There were several items scattered around the circle. Dean tossed them all in a bowl and set it alight as John began chanting in a language Sam didn't know.
He felt an uncomfortable tugging at his solar plexus. "What are you doing?" He demanded. This felt wring. What if it did stop Gabe from coming back? He'd seemed so certain, but it was possible he'd underestimated his dad.
The chanting slowed, before John's voice rose again. Sam staggered and retched, clutching at his stomach. God. What if this hurt Gabe? He'd never be able to forgive himself. Finally, finally, his dad stopped chanting, and the flames went out.
"There." John sighed in relief. "It's done."
Sam lay in the dirt and sobbed. Something in him was missing and it hurt. He ignored Dean as he gently picked him up and carried him back to the motel room, murmuring nonsense reassurance. Sam didn't want to hear it, didn't want to talk to his brother, the traitor.
Several weeks passed in a daze. Gabe didn't visit him once. Sam silently went about his school work, coming straight back to wherever they were staying after class and burying himself in research. He was creating a creature journal, compiling all the confirmed information he could find for future reference. Dean thought whatever he was doing was cute, and an excellent example of him forgetting about the 'supernatural parasite.' Sam was just desperate not to think about what was missing, and working was the best he could do.
~~SPN~~
Sam sprawled in his school's library. "Hey Sammy." A familiar voice whispered from the aisle.
Sam turned sharply, dropping the book on the table. "Gabe." He rushed over, pulling the other boy into a fiercely relieved hug. "I thought you were never coming back."
Gabe smiled, conjuring a lollipop. "I promised, didn't I, Samsquatch? I don't break promises to you." He grimaced slightly. "Your Dad's exorcism just packed more of a punch than I expected." His expression shifted to concern. "It was hurting you, too, I saw."
Sam nodded silently. "I was sick for nearly a week afterwards. Dean almost took me to hospital." He huddled against the slightly taller boy, burying his face into the soft shirt.
Gabe's arms wrapped him in a hug. "I'm sorry." He whispered. 'If I could have spared you that, I would have."
Sam nodded. He knew that. "I can make it so nothing short of everything will separate us. And you'll be able to tell when I'm near, and call me if you need me."
Sam's eyes widened in awe. "You can do that?"
Gabe grinned through his lolly. "Sammy. I'm a Trickster. I can do anything."
Two of Gabe's fingers were pressed against his forehead. The sensation was warm water and comfort, hot chocolate inside while it snowed, the scent of the Impala. Sam shuddered, an awareness of Gabe blossoming slowly. It wasn't large, or particularly obvious unless Sam thought about it, but it was there.
"I have no plans on losing you again, my Sammy." Gabe explained, smiling softly as his fingers swept down Sam's cheek.
Gabe appeared in front of Dean, eyes snapping furiously. Dean recoiled against the headboard, eyes wide in shock. He'd never seen Sammy's friend anything but teasing and happy. He'd also never seen him without Sam, however.
"Where is he?" Dean tried to push him away. Gabe tended to forget personal space when he was feeling emotional. The scrawny boy didn't even shift.
"What are you talking about?"
"Sammy." Gabe hissed. "You've hidden him from me. What have you done?"
Dean faltered. Dad hadn't let him go with them. In fact, he'd been quite insistent that Dean stay behind. "Sammy's with Dad."
Gabe started cursing, words spilling out in more languages than Dean recognised. He hauled Dean to his feet, dragging him down to his own height to snarl at him. "Why would you let that happen?" Gabe slumped, his fury abruptly leaving. Sam was lost to him. Whatever John Winchester had done had removed the bond that had been created between the two of them. "John Winchester thinks I'm a monster trying to harm your brother. He's already tried to exorcise me once."
Dean faltered. "He's our Dad." He started. "He wouldn't do something that would hurt Sam."
Gabe snarled, almost beyond coherence. He couldn't feel Sam. Nothing. He had been doing Trickster work, and hadn't been able to visit, and this had happened. Why had he left Sammy with these people? Loki clutched his hair, desperate and despairing. Sammy was his, dammit. "He thinks I'm trying to hurt Sam, and he will do anything to stop what he sees as a monster having influence over his son, even if that involves harming him."
Dean stiffened, trying to use his height to push the younger teen back. "Well, you're clearly something."
Gabe saw red. This human was challenging his claim on Sam? "I'm a fucking demi-god, boy, and you'd better watch your tone with me. Now, tell me where Sammy is."
"A what?" Dean was staring at Gabe. "What the fuck are you, and what do you want with my brother?" He leaned down. "He is mine to protect, Gabe, and if you're going to do anything to him, you will have to get through me."
Gabe bared his teeth. "I'm Loki, Winchester, and if you don't tell me where Sammy is, I will give you a front row seat to what I can do."
Hazel eyes widened, even as Dean fell back against the bed. Gabe snarled, reaching out with a power he no longer allowed himself to use and plucked the location directly from the boy's head, before vanishing with a snap of his fingers.
~~SPN~~
Singer Salvage Yard was quiet when John pulled up. "What are we doing here, Dad?" Sam asked fearfully. John had barely spoken on the four hour drive here. Sam's hands twisted anxiously in his lap. The only visited Uncle Bobby when Dad needed desperate help on a case, and he had no hunt right now, or when he didn't want Sam on a hunt over the summer.
"We're helping you, Sam." John insisted, even as he opened the door of the truck.
"Helping me with what?" Sam whispered. His eyes widened when Uncle Bobby and Pastor Jim stepped off the porch and slowly approached the car. Uncle Bobby was crushing his trucker cap in his hands, his biggest tell for nerves. "Guys?" Sam clung desperately to the seat. Whatever they were doing, he didn't want.
Pastor Jim grasped the bare skin exposed by Sam's overly large shirt at the base of his neck. It was meant to be a comforting gesture, Sam was sure, but there was something small and wooden resting on his palm, pressing into Sam's skin. "It's alright, lad," He murmured, eyes sympathetic, even as the charm started to burn.
"No," Sam thrashed, struggling desperately away from the hunters grip. "No, get off me." His voice rose into a terrified wail. Gabe had promised Sam would always be able to call him. The charm was severing that connection, that sense of Gabe that rested in the back of his head. He turned brimming eyes to his father. "Why are you doing this?" His voice broke on a sob, and the tears spilled over, trailing down his white cheeks.
"You'll thank me for this, Sam," John insisted, standing back as Bobby escorted him inside, a firm hand on his shoulder.
Sam glanced at the man he considered family fearfully. "What are you doing?" He whimpered pitifully, tear streaked cheeks making Bobby cringe internally with guilt. His face softened in sympathy, even as his hands on Sam's shoulder guided him implacably downstairs, into the area Dean wasn't even allowed in. "Bobby?"
The door to the panic room was open, a symbol Sam didn't recognise painted onto the door, and the wall opposite. "I'm sorry, boy." Sam wasn't even sure he'd heard him correctly until he stumbled forwards from a solid push, and the door clanged shut behind him with a heavy sense of finality. The connection vanished.
Sam panicked, slamming against the door, screaming. "Uncle Bobby." His throat ached, "Uncle Bobby, let me out." His fists pounded on the steel door.
His dad's voice came through the barred slot in the top of the door. "This is for you, Sam."
"Dad?" Sam gasped out, horrified. "No! What are you doing? Why are you doing this?" He staggered back into the centre of the room, spinning in a circle. The symbol was painted on every wall, over the Devil's Trap and on the ceiling. Whatever it was doing, there was no escaping its effects.
"This will stop that supernatural bastard that's attached itself to you until whatever link it's created has died." John sounded pleased about this.
"Gabe?" His voice shook. "Gabe!" Silence was his only answer as the cover was slid back over the door and his father's footsteps moved away.
What had John done? Sam was Gabe's. Didn't he understand that?
Sam sprawled on the floor, tears spilling from the corners of his eyes. "Gabe." The Trickster would find him. Surely. Gabe had promised he'd always be able to find Sam. No symbol or charm could cut that connection.
Sam paced the room. He had been in here for a day already. His father was standing guard outside the room, like he expected Gabe to appear in front of him, even though he'd avoided it for six years. Six years John had believed his youngest was influenced by evil. Sam chewed on his bottom lip as his gaze swept the room, searching for something to distract him from the horrifying lack of Gabe.
An irregularity in the corner caught his eye on his third look. He moved over to it cautiously. A piece of metal, shrapnel from something else, lay forgotten in the corner. He picked it up gingerly, almost dropping it when the sharp edge cut through his skin, blood welling bright red on his pale hands. Sam stared at it for a long moment. His thoughts were slow, he knew, disconnected. Several minutes have passed before the idea solidified in his mind. "I have to break the symbol." He realised dully. Then, maybe, Gbe would be able to find him.
His body was heavy and clumsy as he moved to the wall, eyes fixed determinedly on the white painted image. He could do this. He couldn't forget this idea. It was important. Gabe was important.
Sam knew he was drugged. Food seemed to appear at irregular times. His mind kept drifting, unable to grasp a single thought for more than a second. His father kept coming into the room, and he would pace, an odd little machine wailing a high pitched noise that made Sam's head ache awfully. Which meant, as far as Sam could tell, that whatever John was using wasn't as effective as he'd been expecting, or hoping. Maybe it wasn't specific to Gabe. There was, after all, a difference between tricksters and the Trickster.
Sam shifted in front of the symbol. He was nearly certain he should have finished by now, but his perception was doing odd things. He'd tried not eating, and gotten away with it for several days too, before his dad had come in and force fed him. At least he didn't guard the door anymore, probably deciding the hunt was more important.
The little piece of metal was almost blunt, no longer scraping the paint away as smoothly as it once had. But Sam had nothing else, so he continued his dogged work whenever he was left alone while conscious, which was depressingly infrequent. "Come on, Gabe." He whispered, gripping the shard until his knuckles were white. He was so tired.
The top slot open, and Bobby's gruff voice interrupted his silence. "How you doin', boy?"
"Bobby." His voice slurred and he cursed mentally. At least he was aware enough now to realise he was slurring, he supposed. He hoped Bobby didn't open the door. The symbol on the door was disrupted, several narrow sections missing in the paint, and he didn't want it painted over again.
"You all right, boy? You know your Daddy's just lookin' out for you."
Sam tried to resist, but Gabe had apparently been rubbing off on him more than he expected. "I'm just fucking dandy, Uncle Bobby," the sarcasm dripped from his words. "Trapped in your damned panic room and drugged."
Bobby flinched, eyes drawn inexorably to the food in his hands. John was drugging Sam? That was dangerous stuff. He hesitated, but pushed it through anyway, determined to change that for the boy, at least.
Sam stared at the tray, his stomach cramping painfully at the smell of food. But he didn't know what was drugged, and he was almost done. Hopefully he'd be out soon, before anyone else came to check on him. He listened as Bobby's footsteps receded before returning to his paint scraping.
He wasn't sure Gabe was even looking for him anymore. He knew he'd always been a form of entertainment to Gabe, the boy himself admitted that he didn't do friendships. Sam was sure he was bored now that Sam wasn't readily accessible when he was bored.
Panic flooded his system, even as he continued to nearly maniacally scratch at the paint, desperate to give Gabe a chance to prove him wrong.
Something in his mind stuttered as a piece of paint flaked away, settling back into place. Sam froze, barely daring to hope as his hands slowly lowered to the floor. "Gabe?" His head tilted back as he breathed the name.
"Hey kiddo." Arms were around his waist, clinging to him with something that, if it had been coming from anyone other than Gabe, would have been desperate relief.
Sam turned and buried himself against the eighteen year old, gasping out his name in relief.
Sam was almost too big for this, Loki mused, as his arms tightened around his Sammy's shoulders, relief flooding through him painfully. He had shot up like a weed in the last couple of years, and was now several inches taller than his vessel, although at sixteen, he was still lanky and gangly, not yet grown into himself.
His hand lifted to tangle in Sam's shaggy locks. "God, Sammy," he pressed his face against Sam's shoulder. "I was so scared. Thought I was never gonna find you again." Sam let out something that sounded suspiciously like a sob. "What did they do, Sammy?" Gabe kept his voice low and soothing.
Sam lifted one hand reluctantly from its death grip on his shirt and exposed an elaborate knot burnt into the skin of his shoulder. Gabe growled before he could restrain himself. It hid Sam from all supernatural beings, turned him into a blind spot. It wasn't a bad idea, Gabe mused, if it didn't hide his Sammy from him. His fingers caressed the mark.
"This hides you from me, Sammy," Gabe explained, having to reign in his more murderous urges when Sam lifted tear damp eyes to meet his. "It hides you from everything supernatural, which wouldn't be bad if that didn't include me as well."
A damp chuckle escaped Sam at that, and Loki relaxed incrementally. Sam wasn't irreparably damaged from his father's actions. This was still salvageable. "I can do something similar." Gabe offered slowly, "But it will bind you to me." Sam nodded immediately, complete trust in his eyes. "Sammy, you need to be sure." Gabe insisted. "This will bind us more strongly."
"I get it, Gabe."
"Well," Gabe started awkwardly. "We should get out of here first. We need to talk, first."
"I can stay with you?" Sam looked up at him pleadingly.
"Of course, Sammy." Gabe murmured, one hand lifting slightly. He snapped his fingers, and after a brief moment of vertigo, Bobby's panic room was gone.
~~SPN~~
Gabe's apartment was small, and he came to on the couch. He rose, leaving Sam huddled, clearly dazed, huddled against the arm. Gabe pressed two fingers against his forehead. With a pulse of Grace, his system was cleared.
Gabe staggered. Whatever they'd used on him was dangerous, especially considering how long they must have had him on it. Sam's eyes were sharp when they met his. "Yeah, kiddo, that's what I needed to talk to you about." He admitted reluctantly. Sam leaned forward expectantly. "I'm not exactly Loki." The betrayal that flashed in his eyes felt like a kick in the chest. "Well, I am, but only for the last thousand or so years."
Sam hesitated. "How, exactly, is this working?"
"Well," Gabe swallowed heavily. He hadn't admitted this since he had left. "I'm Gabriel."
Sam froze. "Like the angel?" His voice squeaked.
Gabe flinched, but nodded. "Yeah. I've, uh, defected from Heaven, I guess you could say. Dad left, and it descended into infighting." He shivered, meeting Sam's eyes, desperate for him to understand. "I'm the Messenger, Sammy. I'm not meant to deal with my brothers and sisters fighting and killing each other."
Sam reached for him. "It's alright, Gabe," he soothed, drawing him forward gently, tugging until Gabe was curled in his lap. "It's alright." Fingers smoothed his hair gently. Gabe slowly relaxed. "Shouldn't you have wings though?"
Gabe relaxed. If Sam was asking questions like that, he clearly wasn't angry about his deception. "I'm not pleased that you lied to me for so long, but I'm going to assume there was a reason for it."
Gabe pressed his head against Sam's chest, relieved that he had not lost Sammy. "Outside of this space, if I use my Grace, the other angels will be able to find me. Outside, Loki is a Norse God, and I am below the notice of my family. It's the only way I can stay out of it. Heaven, after Lu and his followers Fell, wasn't the same. It wasn't true peace any longer, and I couldn't stay like that."
Sam pressed his cheek to Gabe's head. "It's alright," he repeated, "You've told me now, and that's what's important." Sam paused. "But why can't I see your wings?"
Gabe chuckled. "My wings are pure manifestations of my Grace. As you are now, they'd burn your eyes out of your skull."
Sam paused. "Ah."
Gabriel hesitated. "Are you still willing to take the mark?" He asked meekly.
"Of course." Sam scoffed. "You're still Gabe, there's just more to you now."
Gabe relaxed, reaching a hand up to smooth over the knot. Sam sighed as Gabe flooded his bloodstream. His skin shivered and twitched under Gabe's hand. "There." His voice was soft, hand lingering on the skin of his Sammy's throat. Sam shivered, leaning into the touch. His sense of Gabe was stronger now, more defined.
Gabe hesitated. He could feel the contentment radiating from Sam as he slumped, boneless, back in the seat.
Gabe hesitated, before leaning forward to press his lips to Sam's in a chaste kiss.
Sam leant against the arm of the couch in Gabriel's apartment. "I don't see why I can't see your wings, while we're in here." He complained half-heartedly.
Gabe lifted his head from Sam's lap. "I never said that." He denied, grinning. "You just never asked."
Sam paused, biting his bottom lip. "I'm asking now." He looked at Gabe hopefully, eyes large and limpid.
Gabe sighed. "I really can't resist that look. That's not fair, you take advantage of me."
But even as he spoke, he was rising to his feet. The air shivered, and suddenly wings spread from Gabe's back. Sam stretched out his hand. They were huge and bronze, taking up most of the space in the room. The bottom pair hung to the floor, the smallest. The two upper sets stretched to either side, the highest pair arching over his head to the high ceiling.
"They're beautiful." Sam whispered, awed. His fingers buried themselves in feathers, almost without his conscious control. The feathers were warm and soft, scented like the air after rain, and the sun on the grass, and sand and the ocean.
Gabe's eyes were wide, lips parted as he exhaled heavily. "Sammy." He gasped, reaching out to draw Sam's hands away.
Sam leant forward, one hand lifting to catch Gabriel's jaw in his fingers. "Gabe." His breath washed over Gabe's lips and the archangel shuddered. Sam hesitated, even as his fingers worked through the feathers of the upper wing. Gabe groaned, eyes falling shut. Sam closed the space, realising, even as something settled, that he'd always been Gabe's.
~~SPN~~
"Are you sure you don't want to go back to your family?" Gabe sounded genuinely concerned. His head was tucked against Sam's chest, fingers tracing absentminded patterns against his hip. Sam's eyes shifted to meet Gabe's. He sighed softly. "I do want to see Dean." He admitted softly. "Not Dad. And I don't know how Dean will react to that."
Gabe bared his teeth at the mention of John Winchester. Sam knew he probably shouldn't find that reassuring, but it settled the anxious roiling of his stomach at the thought of his family. Gabe wasn't going to let his father take him away from him.
It had only been two weeks since he escaped the panic room at Bobby's. He had spent most of it learning the fascinating person that was Gabriel, but he missed Dean like an ache. Gabe had been distracting him with learning the sympathetic abilities the bond they shared left him with.
It had made him a form of trickster, something he had no plans on sharing with any of the family he had. They'd try to bury a stake through his chest. Not that it would work, with the Grace currently bound to his soul. Apparently, not much would kill him now.
Gabe smoothed one hand through Sam's hair, tangling his fingers in the thick strands. "I can keep an eye on your brother, wait until he's separated from John before we visit him." I was gently offered, and Sam accepted gratefully.
"It's not that I'm not happy with you," he rushed to reassure his, what, boyfriend? Lover?
"I know, Samsquatch." He pressed his lips to the exposed skin of his chest. "Anything for you."
Dean stayed with John for more than three weeks. Sam used his new teleportation ability to keep an eye on the elder man.
Gabe snapped his fingers, his hand lightly on Sam's forearm.
"Holy shit!" Dean slammed the brakes on the Impala, sending it squealing, lurching to a stop in the centre of the empty stretch of highway. "Sammy?" He gaped. "What? How?"
"That would be me." Gabe drawled, laughing when Dean jolted forward in shock, barely preventing himself form head-butting his steering wheel.
"What the fuck?" Dean gasped. "Where have you been, Sam? Dad called, said you'd disappeared. What happened?"
Sam hesitated. He didn't really want to explain. What if Dean didn't believe him? Worse, what if he agreed with their Dad? Dean worshipped their Dad, after all. Gabe, seemingly, had no such compunction. "Johnny-boy locked Sam here in a panic room warded against me, and drugged Sam until he could barely speak with something that would have killed Sam if they'd used much more of it." His fingers rested reassuringly on the back of Sam's neck.
Dean's eyes narrowed and focussed on Sam. "Dad wouldn't do that, would he, Sam?"
Sam nodded. "He did." He cleared his throat, cursing himself. His shoulders hunched forward, desperate to appear smaller.
Dean ran his hand through his hair. "Why would Dad do that, though, Sam?"
Gabe's cough was guilty. "Me." He admitted. Dean's scowl spoke volumes for his current opinion on the Trickster.
"Why don't you leave my little brother alone then?" Dean demanded, puffing up aggressively.
Gabe leaned forward, his mouth directly against Dean's ear. "Sam is mine, Winchester," he growled, "And there is nothing you, nor anyone else, can do about that."
"Not even Sam?"
Sam huffed irritably. "I'm right here, guys."
Gabe had stilled at the implications of the question. "It will always be Sam's choice."
Dean immediately turned to his brother, completely ignoring the presence of the Trickster. "Choose us, Sammy. Dad and I. You know he only did what he thought he had to."
Sam swallowed hard before he looked at his brother, eyes red. "Why does it have to be a choice, Dean?"
Dean scowled, hands clenching the steering wheel tightly enough to hurt. "If that's how it is, just leave, go with your monster. We're better off without you, anyway."
Sam's fists clenched where his hands rested on his lap. "Fine." He rasped. "Gabe, please."
Gabe snapped his fingers and Dean was once again alone in the car. He dropped his head onto the steering wheel. What had he done?