Savior
- Canon compliant until Season 8. I do not own Supernatural. -
Sam looked around the empty room where moments ago his brother and Castiel had been swallowed by the leviathan. He couldn't help himself as he called out, Dean's name ripped from his throat. He looked around the empty space; everyone was gone. He had never felt so alone.
Sam had been in some rough situations before, he'd died a few times, lost loved ones more than enough times. But to see his brother completely obliterated from existence. It was hard to cope with that. He left Kevin, the poor kid so lost and confused his own world never the same again, but Sam couldn't bring himself to care. He stormed out to the Impala, which was now wrecked again thanks to Meg's diversion. He keyed the ignition and it started anyway, squealing in protest, but running all the same. He drove it as far as it would go before it died; maybe for good this time. That was when he allowed himself to break down.
He felt hot tears rushing down his face, his eyes burning as they filled and seared with the saline water. He pounded his fists on the steering wheel, abusing the car and his hand along with it, feeling the ache of his bones as he caused them abuse against the sturdy object. His heart wrenching sobs filled the car and his lungs struggled to take in air as his meltdown overtook his body.
His mind raced with thoughts, dark, horrible thoughts. If he'd been a second faster into that room, maybe he could have saved Dean; or fuck it all, maybe he could have died with him. What if he'd never been saved at all, was allowed to rot in that Pit with Lucifer. Or if Dean hadn't been so damn determined to give him back his soul; he remembered being soulless, how easy it was. He could've handled this if half of him was still back in the Pit. Maybe that would have been a better fate than losing everyone he'd ever loved or cared for in the slightest; and having this aching, wrenching hopelessness consume him. His thoughts tumbled away from him; leading down roads of what could have been and never would be. If he'd stayed at Stanford maybe Dean would be alive. They wouldn't be close, and maybe they wouldn't even be talking, but Dean would be out there, driving in the Impala, doing his job. Alive. Maybe the whole damn Apocalypse, demons, angels, leviathan, maybe none of that shit would ever have fucked up their lives. Even in his misery Sam could see the impossibility in that. As much as the Winchesters thrived on their determination to have free will it was all just a lie; they'd never had a choice. Their lives had been determined since before they were born. No matter what they tried to do, they'd always end up here. Tragedy was their only true companion.
Sam's tears ran dry at some point, his sobbing ebbed into a dull ache in the pit of his chest. He knew that ache well, he'd felt it before in his life, but now it was intensified. Catching a simple breath burned, the simple act of existing had him nearly doubled over in pain. His head rested against the steering wheel, his used up tear ducts begging for more liquid to rush through them; to try and ease the suffering.
"Please," he whispered into the night, his mouth full of saliva and his tongue heavy with the discontentment that this was his reality. "Please." he didn't know what he was begging for, but the words seemed to comfort him somehow. No matter how much he wanted to give up, wanted to end all of this incessant suffering, there was a tiny part deep within him that hoped. That longed to believe it was worth it; that there was something greater than himself that he was supposed to do this for. That it wasn't meaningless.
He closed his eyes, sucking in a ragged breath, his lungs still unsure of how to breathe. "Please." the word became a mantra, half whispered, half prayed, taking the place of his endless tears.
He wasn't sure how long he sat in that car, hours or days, it didn't matter. But then he heard the fluttering of wings, the sound that was always accompanied by the arrival of an angel. Sam's head snapped up quickly. "Cas!?" he begged it to be true. If Cas was back, Dean could come back. He would have his big brother, he wouldn't be alone. Life could be okay again.
He didn't see anyone and he thought he must have imagined the sound. He closed his eyes, his heart shattering all over again. How many times could he allow himself to hope? All it did was bring disappointment.
"Sorry Gigantor, didn't mean to fizzle out. I'm still working on having my mojo back."
Sam's eyes opened, unsteady and wary. He knew that voice. He would always know that voice. His eyes focused, and he was staring into the devilish face of the archangel Gabriel.
"Gabriel?" Sam asked, his voice croaked and rough.
"Miss me?" Gabriel's trademark smirk was enough to have Sam almost breaking down again.
A sadistic thought briefly crossed his mind, that perhaps this was all Gabriel's doing in the first place. That Dean was alive, well, and this was all a sick game. But Sam quashed that thought; even Gabriel wasn't that cruel. Not after last time. Not after Gabriel died for them.
"But. . . Lucifer stabbed you. Ages ago. You've been dead. . ." he was rambling, unsure if he could believe what he was seeing.
"That he did. And I was long gone. I think. Can't really remember. But hey, if Cassie gets to come back why can't I?"
"Cas was never killed by an angel blade." Sam noted, surprised by how quick his brain was to recall such a detail.
Gabriel just shrugged, as though this piece of information didn't interest him.
There was a silence in the car, in which Sam's mind seemed to blank entirely, he couldn't even focus on his despair. Gabriel's reappearance into his life gave him something to focus on. It was a mystery he could try and solve.
"So, you're back. . . but what are you doing here?" Sam asked.
Gabriel looked to the heavens as though that was supposed to solve all of Sam's problems. Because the angel's and God had done a great job of that so far.
"Meaning?" Sam asked, getting annoyed.
"I've been brought back to help, Sam." he said, his voice taking on a rarely heard serious tone. "I'm your guardian angel."
Sam scoffed at the term but quickly caught himself when he saw that Gabriel was serious. "My 'guardian angel'? You. Who has personally made my life hell on multiple occasions. Well, forgive me if I don't really see that going well."
"Sammy, come on. We've had fun."
"Gabriel. No offense, but I think I'll be just fine without you." Sam said, a bit harsher than he normally would have.
"No offense Sam, but who else do you have left?"
Sam could feel the sting of that, and it hit him all over again that Dean was gone. Really, undeniably, never coming back, gone.
He didn't answer Gabriel's question, leaving it to be rhetorical. Gabriel took Sam's silence as acceptance of his new lot in life. In another rare gesture of sincerity Gabriel reached toward Sam and touched his forearm gently. Sam felt a calming sensation along his body, it was hard to describe but the ache in his chest, while still present, was manageable.
"For what it's worth, I am sorry about Dean. I liked him."
Sam looked at Gabriel's eyes, they were golden brown, almost like honey. He had never noticed such a simple thing as Gabriel's eyes before. Sam wasn't sure why this detail was so important now, after everything, but he held onto the new information.
"Thanks." he choked out.
Gabriel removed his hand from Sam's arm and he felt the darkness creeping back in. He could feel the weight of his sadness heavy upon his shoulders. He almost asked Gabriel to make it stop again.
As little as Sam knew about Guardian Angel's, Gabriel seemed to know even less. He fixed Sam's car (because with Dean gone it was Sam's now), but after that he seemed at a loss as much as Sam did. They drove to a motel, got a cheap room, and Sam crashed. He didn't think he'd ever be able to really sleep again, but the emotional distress had definitely taken a toll on his body.
When Sam woke up the light was blocked out by the heavy drawn curtain but the clock read that it was noon. He sat up, still feeling exhausted and depleted, but he somehow also felt that tiny bastard of hope inside him. He looked around for Gabriel, expecting the angel to be lounging on the sofa like Cas usually did when he waited around for Dean and Sam as they had their human moments.
The angel wasn't on the sofa, or the spare bed, or anywhere actually. Sam wondered briefly he had invented the angel's return. He took a moment to settle back into a routine. He showered, shaved, brushed his teeth, dressed. It was all very mechanical and it felt good to go through the motions. It kept his body busy; but not his mind. His thoughts tumbled over Dean and Cas, sure the world was saved (again) but was it worth it when people around him kept dying? Then his thoughts escalated, strayed to things that he could never control, like Bobby's death, Ellen's, Jo's. Every life he touched ended in calamity. Maybe he was the monster Azazel had set out to create all those years ago, when he was just an innocent infant. He scoffed at the thought; perhaps he was never innocent at all.
"Morning Sammy." Gabriel entered the motel room with what appeared to be breakfast in his hand.
"Please don't call me that." not only had he always kind of loathed the nickname, but it made him think of his brother, and he didn't want to break down again.
"Sorry Sambo." he offered a coffee to Sam, "Black as it comes."
Sam's lips curve up into what used to pass as a smile, "Thanks." the coffee is bitter and strong but Sam chokes it down.
"It's disgusting isn't it?" Gabriel asks, watching Sam with a kind of fascination that one would usually see on childrens' faces while they studied animals in an exhibit.
"Kind of." Sam admitted.
Gabriel's face lit up, "I knew I shouldn't have trusted that gas station to have good coffee." he passed Sam the bag he was still holding. "Maybe some of their questionable breakfast pastries will help."
"Doubtful." Sam said, and it was almost a joke.
"Well, an almost smile and a sarcastic comment. I feel accomplished and the day has just begun." Gabriel threw himself onto the bed that hadn't been slept in and sipped at the sludge that was supposed to be coffee; though his was mightily improved with lots of sugar and cream.
"I do appreciate it." Sam said, sitting down on his own bed, not sure why he cared about offending the angel, but he did care.
"I know."
The silence settled between them again, Gabriel seemed content his feet tapping out a rhythm to a song Sam couldn't hear, while Sam attempted to drink the dark substance he'd been handed. He knew he should do something; find a crossroads Demon, try and get his brother back. But it all felt so hopeless again.
As if sensing Sam's spiraling thoughts Gabriel stood up and ventured the small distance to Sam's bed. He placed a hand on Sam's forearm, like he had the night before in the car, and Sam felt the same calming effect race through his body. He tired to figure out this feeling; if fear and sadness were tangible things, then what Gabriel could do was push them away, shove them out with his Grace. It was the only logical explanation.
"How do you do that?" Sam asked the Angel.
"Do what?" he asked back innocently, removing his hand and sipping his coffee.
Sam felt the loss in him as Gabriel's hand snaked away. "That." he said for lack of a defining term. "Make me feel."
Gabriel didn't answer, instead he backed away, sitting more comfortably on the bed. Sam sighed in frustration, apparently the angel wasn't going to reveal his secrets. Sam found that that annoyed him, and he smiled to himself. He was annoyed. At something so insignificant. When his world was ended and everything was in shambles, he felt something.
"What?" Gabriel asked, seeing his charge's face turn from annoyance into what could almost be happy.
"You annoy me." Sam answered honestly.
Gabriel gave a mocking bow, "Happy to be of service."
"It's a big deal." Sam said with a shrug; losing any of the fight he had left in him.
Gabriel tapped his toe against Sam's leg, making the hunter look up at him, "I'm glad." he said.
"You're glad you annoy me?" Sam asked.
"Yes. If that's what it takes. I'm glad."
Sam knew that Gabriel must understand what that really meant. Gabriel must have known that Sam feeling anything besides anguish was impressive. Sam watched the angel, looking so normal sipping his morning coffee; the whole world could be altered at a twitch of his hand and he was just enjoying a terrible beverage like any other human.
Sam's eyes lit up suddenly with realization and a tiny ray of hope. "Gabriel," he said, his thoughts running faster than his tongue could keep up with. "You're still an archangel right? You're still as powerful as the Trickster?"
"Sam, I know where this is going-" Gabriel cut him off, as though he had expected this sooner. "I can't bring Dean back."
"But, you can. You've done it before. You've altered space and time so many times before!"
"I know. But Sam, I can't do that. I don't know where Dean is. I don't know if he's alive somewhere, if he's in heaven or hell. I'm just here to look after you, Sam. I'm sorry. I can't bring them back."
Sam's face collapsed, he had been foolish to hope. He looked down at the rug, and a memory went through his mind; he didn't know why it happened, but he couldn't stop his brain from replaying it now.
He was with Dean in a hotel room, they were children, he wasn't more than twelve. Dean was flipping through the channels, bored, and complaining about taking care of his bratty little brother. Sam asked him why he was always so miserable when Dad wasn't around; was he really such bad company. Dean had looked at his little brother, stared him hard in the eyes. Dean loved his little brother more than anyone else in the world, even his father whom he worshiped on some level. He could tell Sam wanted to tear up, that he was trying to be strong and not let Dean see how upset the thought of his brother hating him made him. Dean sighed, his expression becoming softer. He told Sam that he was just anxious; but he didn't tell Sam why, though he could figure it out. This might be the time Dad didn't come back. And no matter how many times Dean reassured Sam that their dad would always come back, Sam always doubted just a little bit. Dean told Sam right there, to never be defeated like that; that there was always hope, and certain things would always just be. Like their Dad would always come back. It just was. Sam had slept better that night, trusting his big brother to know that things would always be right.
Sam's brain pulled away from the memory, it brought tears to his eyes and he didn't want to think about it any more. Things weren't right; hadn't been for a long time. But he knew Dean would tell him to keep believing they'd be right. To keep holding onto that little bitch called hope. He couldn't give up. Not yet. Not now.
Sam looked over at Gabriel, who was watching Sam with a reserved respect, like a mourner at a grave. Sam tried not to break down crying again, he really didn't want to blubber over something he had no control over. But he couldn't help it. There was a certain compassion in Gabriel's face that had Sam crumbling down. The tears escalated down his face and he collapsed into Gabriel.
Tentatively Gabriel wrapped a steady arm around the man, his Grace filling Sam up with comfort and warmth. Sam allowed himself to be comforted like a child, he should feel ridiculous, sobbing into another mans chest like this. But he didn't feel ridiculous. He felt safe. Gabriel was his Guardian Angel after all. And maybe, with a little bit of hope, and some strength from the angel, he'd be okay. Definitely not today, and probably not tomorrow, but some time in the future, maybe Sam could wake up, breathe, take in a movie. He could live the life that Dean would have wanted him to live. It wouldn't be full of love, and a wife, and kids; but maybe he'd get a dog. He'd never stop searching for Dean, not really. He had no idea where to look, or how, and all signs pointed to Dean being gone from this realm for good. But he'd look to the skies, mutter up a prayer, feel Dean's presence lingering in his mind.
He wasn't truly alone any more. He had his angel. It might not be all he needed, but it was enough for now.
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AN: So, yea. I kind of just wanted to write a tiny little blurb about Gabriel being Sam's guardian angel. I thought that would be a really cute concept. This is unbeta'ed so any mistakes are my own.