"How did you get sick?"
"I don't know!" echoed Sam's voice from the run-down motel toilet.
"You eat like a rabbit. All that healthy shit. Isn't that supposed to keep you from getting sick?"
"Can't you call Castiel and have him heal me?" The continued promenade of Sam's stomach followed.
"No can do brother. I already tried calling him, and I got a busy signal. Besides you're not gonna die from the stomach flu. I told you that salad didn't look safe." Sam groaned in response.
Dean riffled through the fridge for anything Sam could eat without regurgitating later on. The search ended with three slices of left over pizza, a beer, and a protein bar. He questioned where the protein bar had come from. "Sammy, I'm going to go find you food that you can keep down."
The flush of the toilet announced the younger brother's entrance back into the room. Sam slowly walked to the twin bed he'd claimed last night and fell onto it. The old mattresses springs protested as it caught Sam's weight. "Thanks, Dean."
Dean promptly scooped his keys off the small dining table. "Yeah, yeah. Just don't get sick all over everything while I'm gone." he replied as the door shut behind him. The rumble of the Impala soon followed and dissipated from Sam's hearing. Drained and exhausted from illness, Sam fell asleep.
When Sam awoke he cracked his eyes open. He noted bright sunlight still streaming through the dingy motel window to his left. A quick glance and he saw that Dean had not yet returned either. Couldn't have been asleep that long then.
As he shifted to get comfortable, preparing to go back to sleep, he felt something tug on his hair. He reached back to brush his hair, making sure no bed bugs were nesting there. His fingertips met not with a lock of hair but another hand. Shocked, the younger Winchester jolted upward into a sitting position. He instantly regretted this as his stomach twisted with stabs of pain, followed by a wave of nausea.
"Whoa there, Gigantor. Take it easy."
Sam hadn't heard that voice for almost four years. He leaned back against the headboard to see the Archangel, Gabriel, sitting on the bed.
"Gabriel… How? I saw you die. Your wings...and Lucifer."
The Archangel smiled in return. "Helllloo, Trickster. And Lucy? Well, he's never been the brightest crayon in the box."
Sam glared at Gabriel. He tried to take everything in. Gabriel looked the same as he had the last time they met. There were no visible injuries to him. Even his clothes were the same. Sam knew he shouldn't trust Gabriel, or this hallucination. Every alarm in his mind was going off, his subconscious screaming for him to grab the gun below his pillow, and run from whatever this might be.
And yet, he didn't move, not even for his gun. He sat there, clutching at his stomach and starring down what may be Gabriel.
"You just gonna stare all day Sammy? Not that I mind, of course. I was expecting more questions and yelling."
Suddenly he felt the bile rising in his throat. Sam quickly got to his feet, forgetting about the Archangel. As he stepped through the doorway to the bathroom, he lost his footing.
Gabriel was there like a safety net. He held Sam up from under his arms. "Let's take it easy there, huh?" Sam let out a shaky breath, letting the smaller man gently lower him to the floor. Sam clutched onto the toilet seat, as the first wave hit him. He took a few seconds to recoup before speaking.
"We thought you were dead. You can't be real. You're a dream, or a hallucination."
Gabriel chuckled. "Can't get rid of me that easily." Sam bent over the seat as he felt another bout coming up. His body bringing up what little was left in his stomach. Near the end it was just bile, scorching his throat, the sour taste and smell inescapable. He felt a pair of hands pull back his hair from his face. His body convulsed as he dry heaved, his body attempting to purge what was not there. He spat into the toilet to get the horrid taste out of his mouth. The hands slipped from their place at the nape of his neck, his hair falling back around his face. Disgusted with his own bodily fluids, Sam slammed the lid shut and flushed.
After regaining himself, he looked over at the angel sitting next to him. Thousands of questions ran through his mind. Gabriel was staring at him with worry and another emotion he couldn't categorize.
"Why are you here, helping me? Matter of fact, where were you when we needed you? When I was in the cage? When I was soulless? Or when Cas was fighting Raphael for Heaven? Leviathans? Purgatory? The Trials? Abaddon? Metatron? Part of me doesn't even want to hear your pathetic excuse. You saved your own ass again. Congratulations, Gabriel, you are officially the biggest bag of dicks."
Lost in his heated monologue, Sam paid no attention to the angel's countenance. His head hung low, face hidden behind long bangs. Gabriel's hands were curled into loose fists resting on his thighs. Small dark spots formed on his jeans near his fists. Sam reached out, tilting Gabriel's head up by his chin. His suspicions confirmed.
Tears rolled down the angel's face.
His hand was knocked aside by Gabriel's.
"You think that I didn't want to help? I knew the prophecy. I thought it best to vanish, fake my death. Let you, your brother and Cas rebel. Let you fight fate. I heard the screams of Lucifer and Michael as you dragged them into the cage with yourself. I thought it over. Dean, moving on with the rest of the world. And then Castiel, poor Castiel, was resurrected once more. Bringing Bobby and most of you back with him. I envy my brother and his will, and determination. You do realize how difficult it was for him to pull any bit of you out of the cage? An angel of his status?"
Gabriel shook his head. The tears were no longer a constant flowing, but rather an intermittent tear escaping. He took a steadying breath before continuing.
"Seeing all of you struggling, especially Castiel, fighting against the still ever looming Apocalypse was difficult to say the least. I felt guilt. Sickened by my own cowardice. And yet I couldn't bring myself to come back. To show any of you that I was here. It felt too late. I had had my chance to help and I took the easy way out as I always had done before. After Dean and Castiel were sent to Purgatory, I contemplated aiding you in their rescue, but you had no rescue planned. You moved on with your life. Just as Dean had when you were in the cage. So I let it be. I continued doing what I did before I ever ran into you and your brother. Living the high life and killing those who deserved it. I even got pretty flashy about it a few times, thinking maybe you'd take notice. None of you ever showed."
Gabriel was sitting up straight now, eyes red from crying. His hazel eyes connected with Sam's. "So I kept on going. Deeming it necessary to leave you all behind. And then Metatron locked all the angels out of Heaven. I was down and out for a month or so. Laid low per usual. Even with my status in the hierarchy, I came close to losing everything. Course me being 'dead' made it a lot easier to keep off Meta-douche's radar. Then you're brother went all 'Righteous Man' once more and took the Mark of Cain, and we all know how that ended."
Gabriel broke eye contact. "So yes, I am the biggest bag of dicks. I made a mistake. I should have fought with you, beside my own brethren for what I knew was right and just. But I was stuck in my ways. And you paid the price for it. Dean paid the price. Castiel paid the price. And thousands more paid, because I was not brave enough, strong enough to take a stand. For that, I apologize. I am here now. I don't want to be...cowardly." He spat out the last word. Sam could feel the self-loathing dripping off it like poison.
But all he could do was listen and nod. He hadn't expected any of this, especially not from the Trickster. He was still debating whether this was all an elaborate dream. As if Gabriel would fly in from the dead and open up to him in a shitty motel bathroom that reeked of vomit and cheap cleaner.
Gabriel was looking at him expectantly. Sam took a deep breath. "I will accept your apology. But know that I will never forget what you've done."
He saw something genuine shine through those hazel eyes. "I never even expected forgiveness, so."
"That still doesn't answer my very first question. Why are you here right now? Of all times to come back and show yourself? Only to me and while I progressively puke my guts out?"
Gabriel's smirk returned. "I felt you would take it the easiest out of the three of you. Dean will want to murder me no doubt, and Cas, well I don't really know how my brother would react. Which is what makes me so fearful of him. You're also my favorite. And you might want to think about brushing your teeth." The Archangel waved a hand in front of his face while scrunching up his nose.
Sam sighed. "Yep, still a dick." Sam pulled himself from his spot on the floor to the sink. He heard Gabriel chuckle as he exited the bathroom. After quickly running the toothbrush over his teeth and tongue, he returned to the main room. He could see Gabriel raiding the kitchen.
"No sweets, Sasquatch? I'm disappointed."
With a roll of his eyes, Sam laid back down onto his bed. He placed his arm over his eyes to block the light coming through the dirty motel windows.
"Can you torment me some other time when I'm not physically ill?" He felt a sinking of the bed to his right.
"Maybe if you asked nicely I could heal you." Sam uncovered his eyes to see the angel. "Why would you do that? You'd want something in return, right?"
Gabriel made eye contact. Without breaking it, he spoke in a quiet voice. Something that Gabriel never did. "I don't always have ulterior motives. I'm not incapable of feeling or acting in kindness. I'm an angel of the Lord, just as Castiel is." He turned his back to Sam, getting off the bed. Sam regretted his choices of words after catching a glimpse of pain from the angel's eyes.
"Gabriel, wait."
Sam sat up, hand outstretched to grab at the Archangel.
He had already moved out of his reach though.
Sam watched intently as Gabriel stopped at the doorway leading into the kitchen. Gabriel spun on his heels. He marched over to where Sam rested on the bed. Placing his hand on Sam's head, letting his fingers brush hair away from his face, he spoke. "Feel better, Samsquatch."
The grace of Gabriel flooded his senses. He unconsciously closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of it crashing through him in waves. Each wave becoming smaller, until the feeling faded out. Gabriel's hand brushed through his hair once more.
He opened his eyes to see Gabriel standing at the foot of the bed.
"I'll be back soon to collect my debt, Sam." With a wink and a snap of fingers, the angel vanished.
Seconds later, Dean barged through the door, holding grocery bags in his hands. "Okay, I think saltines and 7-Up are easy enough for you to keep down. Sam, you okay? Something happen while I was gone?"
Sam sat for a moment, starring at the space where Gabriel had been standing.
"No. No, nothing happened. Though I have stopped barfing every five minutes." He walked over to see what Dean had gotten from the store.
The rest of the day was spent resting up and planning for the next hunt. Sam thought about Gabriel throughout the evening. What he had said to him. What he had done.
And that he'd be back soon to collect his debt.