On the Other Side of the Door
For crowleysgotbadblood; I took our thing and I ran with it."Sammy?"
Silence.
"Samsquatch?"
"Sammoose?"
"Sammich?"
Still nothing.
"Sam, kiddo, c'mon, let me in."
There's a muffled sound from the other side of the door.
"Why?" Sam asks, voice cracking, "Why would I let you?"
"Because you love me?" It's more a question, a hope, than anything.
A dark chuckle comes from the man in the other room.
"But do you love me? Really? You're the Trickster, Gabriel. How am I supposed to believe a word you say?"
I sighs and sit down, my back to the door. He full named me. That's nevergood.
"You're shouldn't," I admit quietly. I clear my throat before continuing a bit louder. "I've given you no reason to believe me or trust me or do anything other than throw me out and tell me to leave you the hell alone. And I'm sorry for that, I really am. I'm a dick, a moron, and a pathetic piece of shi-"
"Oh shut up! I know that already! And I don't fucking care! That's not the problem, Gabe!" -he called me Gabe. Gabe is better- "The problem is the fact that you scare me!" he yells.
"I'm sorry, Sam-a-lam! Just let me in, please!" I yell back, turning to face the door.
"My name is Sam! Not that you care! You never asked, you never thought to ask if I was okay with your stupid nicknames! And why in hell would I let you in? So you can shout and scream at me? So you can make me feel worthless? So you can do everything he did?!" Sam's words hang in the air like breath in January.
So that's what I've become? A mirror image of my dickbag brother? A replication of the thing that's hurt Sam the most?
For the first time in a billion years, I'm speechless.
So, I don't speak. I stand up and silently make my way to another room.
I know it was bad. I know I'd fucked up. I understand I'd done something horrible. I just didn't know how horrible.
I could still hear Sam's quiet sobs as I locked myself in a room. The same room as last time. Still no gun. Still no knife.
I sit there, staring at a wall, for what feels like eons. Colours swim before my eyes, everything melting into pools of dark hues.
At some point I look down at my left arm to see it scraped, cut, and smeared with red. The rest of the blood is caked into my right finger nails.
I sit there for another eternity before there's a knock on the other side of the door.
"Brother?"
It's Castiel, most likely here to tell me to go, that I've done to much harm, that I need to leave.
"Gabriel, either let me in or I'm breaking down the door."
Couldn't he just fly in, if he really wanted to? He's a big boy, he has grace, he can get himself in. I tell him this.
So he does fly in, standing over me, pulling me up by my blood soaked arm. I wince.
"Brother, what have you done?" he asks, looking at the red now covering his hand. I shrug.
"What I've done since Dad switched on the lights, Castiel. Fuck shit up."
My voice is heavy, and I can't meet his eyes.
"Gabriel, look at me," he demands, and I slowly look up, seeing the disappointment on his face.
"You can't just cower every time something goes wrong. You must face Sam."
"But-but I can't!" I say, and it comes out sounding as pathetic as I feel, "I tried! I tried to 'face Sam' or whatever! He doesn't want to see me! And I don't blame him."
There's a moment of silence.
"Sam Winchester loves you with all his being, brother. I doubt he would give up on all that now."
Castiel's words are soft and gentle, and I can tell he believes what he's saying.
"What should I do?"
It's a simple question, one that's been asked for millennium.
"Speak to him," Cas says and with a flutter of wings he brings us both from that small, gloomy room.
And he leaves me to knock, hoping Sam will answer from the other side of the door.