Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Author Note: Set during Season Five

DIVING FOR PEARLS

Sam had always been able sleep anywhere. He slept easily in the Impala as Dean drove at high speed down winding back roads with music playing so loudly that the windows shook. He could even sleep through Dean's singing.

But that was all past tense now.

Lucifer had made sure of it.

Every night, since Lucifer had first slid into Sam's subconscious wearing Jess, he waited in Sam's dreams. He vividly tore apart everything and everyone Sam loved, offering solutions in reasonable soothing tones. As though the fact that he'd been forcing Sam to watch everyone he cared about die horribly could be smoothed away by an apparently easy one-word answer. Sam woke up every morning with bile in his mouth and the need to empty his guts in the already disgusting motel bathroom. He could see them all, bleeding and begging him. He reached out for them, He squeezed his eyes shut. He held back the "yes," that burned up his throat. For now.

So Lucifer started talking to him when he was awake too. He crowded into Sam's head with a sad resigned expression, as though what was happening was all Sam's fault. He made Sam see things that weren't there, obscured his thoughts and vision so that research became impossible and his behavior on hunts got so shaky that he couldn't even burn corpses without help. He was a liability. He was going to get people killed. He was going to get Dean killed. Lucifer, smiling, offered a peaceful way out. A second chance.

Surprisingly – and hugely ironically - it took Gabriel joining Team Free Will for the trouble to stop. Sam was forced to spend a lot of time with him, because Dean and Cas were mostly preoccupied with each other outside of the apocalypse and Gabriel refused to leave him alone. And Sam discovered, to his surprise, that despite all the outrageous and deeply annoying jokes, pranks, and sarcasm, Gabriel and he had a lot in common. Their life choices weren't so different. And Gabriel actually listened when Sam talked, and then told stories of his own. Stories of Heaven and his brothers and his pagan life. They were all incredible to hear. It took a while for Sam to realize that perhaps he was the first person to ever hear those stories told by the angel himself, that Gabriel had invited him beyond his Trickster walls.

And it wasn't long after that that Sam became aware of just how much he looked forward to spending time with Gabriel now, and not just to hear his tales. It turned out to be a life-saving revelation. That night, the archangel was able to see what the others hadn't - Lucifer's presence in Sam's mind. By the time morning broke, Gabriel had thoroughly and triumphantly sealed Lucifer out of Sam's head, protecting his dreams and daytimes.

It left Sam utterly drained and sated with a handprint burn on his chest. It left him satisfied for the first time in years. There was just one tiny problem...

"Can you not tell anyone that sex saved my life?" he managed to ask.

Gabriel smirked and started slurping loudly at Sam's neck, his hand pressed to the burn. Sam didn't complain. Because of the gentled smile that Gabriel had shown him and the words that Gabriel silently pressed into his skin. Because it wasn't a one-night only event. Gabriel had made that graphically clear. It was exactly what Sam had been craving and searching for. He held onto Gabriel tightly.

Dean refused to believe that Gabriel had no hidden agenda. It didn't matter how many times or different ways Sam explained that Lucifer was staying away now thanks to Gabriel, and that Sam was fine, really. He was…..getting somewhere in the vicinity of happy again, which was also down to Gabriel. And no, he wasn't under a spell and he hadn't made any deals. Castiel confirmed that part. Gabriel snapped a glowing parody of a halo into existence over his own head and grinned, innocently, around a mouthful of chocolate.

Dean glared and asked for a separate room far, far away from Sam and Gabriel. Gabriel's expression said that no amount of distance was going to help now that he knew how much any hint of a sex noise would bug Dean.

Then Sam dreamed about Stanford and Mom and Dad and Jess for more than a fortnight straight.

And Gabriel announced that he had places to be and people to prank if he was gonna keep up his Trickster persona and maybe see if any of the other gods were planning on pulling their heads out of their asses and acknowledging that there was an incoming apocalypse that they could do something about.

Sam's dreams somehow stayed free of Lucifer, and populated by the people he loved, whole and happy. Gabriel stayed away for three weeks and Sam unknowingly slept with his arms outstretched like they were missing something. Dean endlessly mocked him and took pictures.

"Pants off, Samantha."

Sam rolled his eyes, even as a grin spread across his face. Gabriel had appeared in the room, with what looked like a keg under his arm. The motel air con was busted and the humidity was clinging thickly like a second skin. And Sam had a headache forming, thanks to the latest round of Dean and Cas arguing whilst looking like they wanted to tear each other's clothes off.

Thank God Gabriel was back.

"How was Tahiti?"

Gabriel grinned, dropping the keg carelessly onto Dean's bed. "A little partying like it's 1899. Black pearls, oteas by sunset, all those grass skirts. You missed out, Sammy. The places that sand can get into….."

Whatever Sam was going to say in reply to that was lost when Gabriel slid into his personal space, stealing his breath. His hands started work on the kinked muscles in Sam's shoulders. The archangel tutted loudly.

"Unhealthy, Sam. All work and no play makes you a very dull boy."

He dug his fingers in and Sam couldn't bite back a moan, his body fully relaxing for the first time in days. Gabriel shifted into his lap, humming in his throat like a warning. Sam leaned into Gabriel's touch, then arched up, claiming a hungry kiss. Gabriel grinned into it, taking just as much as he gave. Sam clamped a hand around the back of the angel's neck, like Gabriel might suddenly leave again. Gabriel laughed, rolling his hips like he'd won, pulling another groan from Sam's throat.

"Pants off, Sammy."

Gabriel might be back, but he didn't stop frequently disappearing for days at a time.

One morning a few weeks later, Sam opened his eyes with a chill at his back where the impressive furnace of Gabriel had been only hours before. Disappointment felt raw and familiar as he shifted, finding only empty sheets, a vague memory of fingers in his hair, and the sound of wingbeats. Gabriel had left while he was sleeping again. It was becoming an unhappy glossed-over trend.

The archangel used to stick around in the mornings just to put Dean off his breakfast (or so Dean claimed after walking in on Sam and Gabriel one particularly embarrassing morning) or to witness Dean's reaction to whatever he'd done to the Impala or to mock whatever plans they had for screwing with Heaven's agenda. Now he was rarely there when Sam woke up. Gabriel said that he had people to see and deals to renegotiate now that the Apocalypse was running on a difference schedule. His days were booked. It gave Sam a feeling like the foreboding that used to come from a headache and a vision. It never meant anything good, despite Gabriel's firm confident words. Sam could see through those now.

He drummed his fingers on still-warm sheets and worried, his lip broken under his teeth. What wasn't he seeing? What was Gabriel hiding now? What was he running from?

There was something catching the light on the tiny beside unit, something that hadn't been there the previous night. A cup overflowed with shining, black pearls. Sam blinked hard. He reached, and brought one close, sliding it under his pillow. Make a wish.

"Dude, what did you do to Gabriel?"

Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother. "I thought you didn't want any details?"

"Still don't." Dean pulled a disgusted face. "Seriously. I mean, the silent treatment."

Sam turned away from his laptop expectantly, his expression a clear what the hell? You've got to tell me so I know what you're talking about. Dean crossed his arms, clearly believing that whatever it was, it was all Sam's fault. Some things never changed.

"Gabriel's gone off the angel-radio reservation. Cas isn't getting any response."

Sam frowned. Really? Gabriel had gone silent. That was beyond unusual and it probably wasn't thrilling Cas that the only family he'd finally been able to connect with had inexplicably stopped talking to him. Sam rubbed the back of his neck, that worried pain spiking inside of him again. This was no doubt something else that Gabriel would brush aside and refuse to talk about.

Lately it was like Gabriel was trying to disappear. That thought sent a seriously unpleasant feeling through Sam.

He dreamed that night of introducing Jess to his parents. His Dad didn't once ask how many weapons Jess could handle or pump her for any hunting knowledge. Definitely a dream. But nice, a reminder of what he'd wanted. He woke up feeling wistful.

There were black pearls at the bottom of his morning coffee.

Gabriel had always been enthusiastic about sex. Sam had expected that. Some of Gabriel's stories made even Dean look impressed. But now, whenever Gabriel was actually around, it had become something else; an almost violent, feverish, insatiable something. Painful.

He'd throw Sam down, pushing him into mind-bending orgasms, sometimes for hours and hours, leaving bruises on his hips, chest, thighs, everywhere. Hard and fast and exhausting and dirty and teetering on an edge that felt too familiar to Sam. It left him dazed and breathless and eventually more than vaguely uncomfortable. Dean looked disgusted at the amount of hickies that Sam was now sporting.

Sometimes Gabriel stayed, singing and watching as Sam came back to himself. There was snuggling, no matter how much Gabriel rolled his eyes and mocked Sam for it. But other times, Gabriel was gone before Sam became properly coherent again.

It only added to Sam's worry. To make things even more uncomfortable, Gabriel made less and less appearances during cases. Cas had started moping and that made Dean bitchy, so everybody was miserable. Every time Sam started talking about what was going on, Gabriel disappeared or effectively shut down the conversation with more sex. The pain and foreboding got worse.

Sam reached for his wallet and found it filled with black pearls.

The handprint over his heart throbbed.

It reached a head the day after Sam dreamed about Sarah Blake. She'd called the week before; there'd been weird stuff happening in the town she was working an art exhibition in. It'd been good to hear her voice. Sam had told Bobby who'd contacted hunters in the area who could help her out.

Gabriel and Castiel then had a furious argument, in Enochian. Sam couldn't pick up even scraps of meaning, since Gabriel's tone was so vicious and hard-edged and quick. It made the air feel charged and dangerous. Castiel even raised his voice. It ended with Gabriel disappearing in a showy thunderclap of feathers. He didn't even say goodbye.

"What the hell was that?" demanded Dean, from where he hadn't been pretending not to eavesdrop.

Castiel didn't try to hide his unhappiness. He leaned against the wall behind him, like he'd fall without it.

"Gabriel is...troubled," he ventured, his misery cloaking him heavily.

He looked uncomfortable, like he really didn't want to share family secrets, like they were going to be extremely embarrassing to say out loud. Sam felt himself leaning forward. If Cas didn't know what was wrong with Gabriel, who would?

"He is having trouble sleeping," Castiel said at last and his lips thinned, loudly telegraphing that that was all he would admit.

Sam frowned, because Gabriel didn't sleep. When he stayed, he lay down beside Sam, on top of him sometimes. But he didn't sleep, because he didn't need to and he found it boring. So while he was awake he kept Sam's dreams free from Lucifer before disappearing.

Sam's dreams. Dreams that were full of white picket happy endings. Parades of the women who'd been part of his life. All that Sam had ever yearned for since he was a kid. Scenarios where there was no trace of the supernatural at all.

And so no sign of Gabriel.

Sam felt the tender bruises on his body, the heaviness of his pants' pockets thanks to Gabriel's black pearls. The pain and the foreboding. Gabriel had had a front row seat to all of Sam's dreams. And there'd been no place for him amongst the memories and normalcy and all that had made Sam happy before.

Gabriel's recent behavior suddenly made sickening sense. All that distance and insatiable desperate sex, like each time they had together might be their last. Because Gabriel clearly believed that one day soon they would have a last time, when Sam found in reality what made him so happy in his dreams - someone that wasn't Gabriel. Sam sat down hard, his head spinning.

He saw his dreams as nostalgic throwbacks to what he'd wanted before, to who he used to be. Nothing significant. But Gabriel saw all significance and all rejection, something he was already too familiar with. So he was making preparations, cutting ties, and preparing to leave right before Sam did.

Pain beat at Sam from the inside out.

He needed to talk to Gabriel, not that Gabriel would want to talk to him. Not that he'd let Sam even find him probably. Well…..Sam squared his jaw and looked at Castiel who looked right back, as though he had followed Sam's thoughts with great interest. Sam had help.

The revenge that Gabriel was going to enact on them after this was going to be epic and terrifying. Right now Cas was contacting him, claiming that Sam needed retrieving from the abandoned house where they'd just slaughtered a nasty nest of creatures that had looked like some sort of mutant lizard-bird hybrid, and Castiel couldn't do the pick-up since he had to tend to Dean's wounds. And who knew if any of the creatures were still lurking around the house? Castiel was getting worryingly good at lying. He'd definitely been spending way too much time with Dean.

There was the telltale sound of wingbeats. Sam had a second of his heart beating fast, thinking; this has got to work, before he flicked his lighter and let it fall. Intricate loops of holy oil burst into flame, setting off a spectacular chain reaction and the enormous pattern that covered the floor came to life. Cas had been very thorough.

For a split second, Gabriel looked taken aback. Then he smirked, everything else hidden neatly beneath the expression. Sam wanted to tear that mask off.

"All this for me? Most people use cellphones now, Sammy." Gabriel sounded amused, gazing at the flames around his feet.

"Would you have answered?"

Gabriel raised his eyebrow. "Okay, Samantha, what's eating you when it's not me?"

That had occupied an entire Tuesday evening last week. Sam tried hard to stop himself from reddening and glared at the archangel.

"Not everything you see inside my head actually means something."

Gabriel's expression flickered, only briefly. But Sam saw it, even as Gabriel slid back into looking amused and comfortable and confident. Like Sam was amusing him with his petty human thoughts. Sam could practically feel the distance Gabriel was putting between them. The pain that caused made its way into his voice.

"They're dreams, Gabriel. Lucifer's been killing people inside my head for months. But now he's not and….."

He couldn't say that it was the only way he could hang onto Jess, that talking about her was always going to put a hitch in his voice because Jess was Jess, who'd loved him and wanted to marry him. She'd been his normal life, his dream that he'd had since he was a kid. So he thought about her, he dreamed about her. He missed her, God, really a lot.

And…..right, mind-reading, which had gotten them into this mess in the first place. All Sam could think was sorry, sorry, I can't let her go.

"Sammy…" Gabriel sounded almost gentle, a world of pained regret. "I'm not that happy ending, kiddo."

"No, but you're this." Sam pulled his shirt down to reveal the handprint.

Gabriel's eyes burned. Sam fought the urge to extinguish the flames and just touch him. He needed to finish this, to say the words, to play Gabriel at his own game and make him understand.

"I'm not going to change my mind."

Gabriel had marked him and Sam could still feel that heat, and hear Gabriel's growled words against his neck. He wasn't ever going to forget that night. He didn't want to. He didn't want Gabriel to either.

He met Gabriel's honey-eyed gaze. He didn't want the past back. He just wanted to remember it. And the archangel wasn't a consolation prize, or comfort and relief and part of violent revenge like Ruby had been. He was Gabriel, he'd saved Sam, and he was everything that Sam couldn't squeeze into words. Didn't Gabriel know that? Didn't he see that, inside Sam's head? It was probably pretty damn loud in his thoughts. Or did Gabriel think that Sam didn't know what he really wanted?

Sam took a breath. He was acutely aware that everything that had just flowed harshly through his head had probably been seen by Gabriel.

I chose this, okay? That's not going to change.

Gabriel's expression, like Sam had smacked him in the face, made Sam's mouth dry. He cleared his throat and threw something across the flames. Gabriel caught the single black pearl. Sam watched him. There were so many flames between them. But Sam had the fire extinguisher from the motel at his feet. His heart hammered fast.

He tried for a smile. There were pearls lining his pockets and a path right to him if he aimed the extinguisher right.

"Make a wish."

-the end