It's probably not the best idea, publicity wise, to go to a tavern every other night and sing depressing country songs, Sam thinks as he tunes his guitar. He doubts anyone from work would recognize him though, out of his usually formal clothing with his hair hanging gelless around his face. They also think he can't sing for shit, so there's that.
The possibility is still there, but Sam needs it too much to stop coming any night he's not spending at the hospital. He's noticed the tavern getting crowded when he sings lately, and the manager asked him to come in just to put on a show on Saturdays. With nothing else to do, he'd agreed.
Apparently word had gotten around about it. Apparently he was some sort of small-time celebrity. Apparently his brother had decided to check it out.
He's halfway through a song when he spots Dean walking through the door and has to fight to finish it. Dean doesn't help at all, staring openly at Sam, who's in a chair on the stage doing his best not to die of shame. He knows Dean will know what he's singing about, where his inspiration is coming from, and god damn it he's had Dean mostly convinced that he was finally okay.
'And between now and then, till I see you again, I'll be loving you. Love, me.'
Deciding that line was the final nail in his coffin, he lets go and sings the rest of the song as if Dean wasn't there staring at him and probably working out his latest 'Sammy, you need to let him go' speech.
Sam gets it. Hell, he agrees. He should let go. He should move on. He should go out, find a girl, get married, or just be a normal fucking person for the first time in four years. But he can't. Because it's not like letting go means that Gabriel will just be out there somewhere without him. He probably wouldn't be okay if that was the case either, but it would be better.
His song ends and he tells the manager he's taking his break and finds Dean. He's come with Cas, both of them lingering by the bar when he walks over. To his surprise, Dean doesn't start in immediately.
"Sam" he says, eyes sparkling with mischief "what the hell dude. Since when can you sing?"
Sam signals for a drink and leans beside his brother against the bar, shrugging "Since always."
"You were very good Sam" Castiel says "I see the flyer was not exaggerating."
"Well, 'Best voice in the county' was a little much. I live here, after all."
Sam laughs "Dean, you can't sing."
Dean gives him a look and Sam can see that his words had been taken as a challenge.
"I can't sing? Dude, I can sing. And I can sure as hell sing better than you."
"Come on Dean, I've heard you singing along to your music in the car, remember?"
"Dean is actually quite good when he tries" Castiel adds, being no help as usual. Dean looks smug and gestures positively at Castiel. "Singing in the car is different. Besides, I may be good, but I could never top Steven Tyler"
"Whatever dude" Sam says, knocking back his drink.
"Hey, I'll prove it! You tell me next time you're going to be here-"
"Sam, you're due back in five" the manager says on his way behind the bar.
"Thanks" Sam throws over his shoulder. He looks back at Dean, who's downing the rest of his beer. He sets the empty bottle down and gives Sam a challenging look.
"Let's go."
"Dean, no. You can't just-" but Dean's already pushing himself off the bar and walking by Sam.
"You wanna sing? Let's sing." Dean turns and walks backwards a few paces, arms spread "I'll show these people what real music sounds like."
Sam knows he's being baited, but damn if he can resist. It's so far from what he was expecting that he just sighs and hollers to the manager that his next song will be featuring his brother. He tosses a long-suffering look at Cas, who just stares at him flatly and sips his own drink, used to Dean's antics by now.
When he climbs back onto the stage Dean's already set up with a guitar and has apparently chosen a song for them. Sam takes a seat and a guitar as well, and Dean flashes him a cocky grin. The notes start playing and Sam wants to cover his face with his hands - of course Dean would chose something from one of his albums. Dean starts off and Sam sighs at being given Bowie's part.
"Pressure pushing down on me, pressing down on you, no man ask for."
Dean's grinning to himself, and when he starts in Sam is forced to concede that yes, Dean can indeed sing. They actually aren't bad together. Sam can feel the words rolling off his lips easily and starts to grin too.
"It's the terror of knowing what this world is about, watching some good friends scream 'let me out!'"
Dean completely strays from the original parts a few times, taking one of the choruses and butting in for a duet with seemingly no purpose. It isn't until they're belting out the ending that Sam looks over and sees something in Dean's face that makes it click.
"'Cause love's such an old fashioned word, and love dares you to care for people on the edge of the night, and love dares you to change our ways of caring about ourselves"
This is Dean's way of telling him that he understands. That he's there for him. Sam feels his eyes prickle and smiles to himself. Dean had never understood his thing with Gabriel, had hardly liked Gabriel at all, really. Sam thinks that maybe having Cas had influenced his brother's viewpoint at bit. It means a lot that to Sam that he'd do this. The song ends and Dean claps a hand on his shoulder with a grin "That's singing, Sammy."
Sam laughs and the manager lets Dean stay for a few more songs with him before they both get off the stage and head back to where Cas is waiting. They drink a little more than they should, they joke and laugh more than they have in a while, and by the time they part ways Sam is glad that Dean had stumbled across his little secret.
The next day when he visits Gabriel, he does it with a smile on his face. He drags the chair in the corner of the room over to Gabriel's bedside and settles in for the night.
"Hey Gabe" he says quietly. Only the sound of the respirator fills the room, but by now he's used to that. He tells Gabriel about the case he just closed, one he's been giving Gabriel updates on since he started it. It had gotten particularly interesting when the owner of the company being sued turned out to have a lucrative cocaine smuggling business going on behind the scenes. He was innocent of the original charges, though.
"Dean came to the tavern last night" He says when he's done. "It was actually really good. He didn't say anything about why I was up there. We sang together." Sam reaches out, slips his fingers around Gabriel's "He's a good brother" he says with feeling.
He sits in the quiet, running his thumb over the bones in the back of Gabriel's hands. Had they always been this pronounced? Sam glances down and is struck by how small Gabriel's hand looks in his, how frail. His skin is almost alabaster in the weak fluorescent lighting of the room. Sam follows the line of his arm up to his face, and sees all of his observations reflected there too. Gabriel looks unhealthy now, rather than like he's sleeping. How long had he looked like this? It made Sam sick, seeing him that way. Gabriel was always vibrant, wild, the slightest bit soft at the edges where he probably should have been four hundred pounds from all the sweets he ate.
Sam didn't notice he'd started crying until he scratched at the tickling on his cheeks and his hand came off wet. He wraps Gabriel's hand in both of his and brings it up off the bed to rest against his forehead, biting down on his lip as he does.
"What would you want, Gabriel?" he asks. He doesn't get an answer.
When he gets home that night to his empty house, he kicks off his shoes and sits with his head in his hands for hours.
The next day he dials the hospital with shaky fingers.
"Can I talk to Doctor Fitzgerald, please?"
They set up a day, and when it comes he calls out of work and spends hours by Gabriel's bed. Dean shows up at the designated time, which is too damn soon, too fast after four years of wavering. But he's made the decision, he reminds himself while the skinny doctor tells him quietly that he can take as long as he likes, and that Gabriel won't feel a thing. Sam nods when they ask if he's ready, but when Fitzgerald reaches to turn off the ventilator every cell in his body screams at him to make the doctor stop. He doesn't move, though, and the sound of the switch being flipped seems quieter than the silence that follows.
The seconds drag by while the nurse detaches the ventilator hose, and Sam reaches out for Gabriel's hand as the situation starts to really hit him. This is it.
After a few seconds, Gabriel's chest moves again. The doctor's eyebrows zip together.
"Nurse" he says, a note of command there.
"What's happening?" Sam asks in bewilderment as the nurse pushes him back. He doesn't get an answer immediately, and Dean rests a hand on his shoulder when another nurse comes in.
He sees Fitzgerald purse his lips when one of the nurses sets the mouth piece for the ventilator off to the side, then the Doctor looks up at Sam. "He's breathing on his own"
Sam's heart leaps into his throat "What?" he chokes out.
The doctor looks at him with a gentle expression "He's breathing on his own. I won't know until I do a few tests, but if he can keep it up, he can survive without this" he taps the life support machine.
"But I thought..." Sam starts, then stops "So he isn't going to-"
Fitzgerald seems to waiver before continuing "There are other things to consider. Just because his body has recovered doesn't mean he'll wake up. But unless we pull the feeding tube, he won't pass away just yet."
Sam would have collapsed if Dean hadn't caught him up in a hug.
"Thank god" he hears himself mumbling as he clings to his brother "Thank god."
They have the two of them move out into another room while Dr. Fitzgerald goes about making sure Gabriel really will survive, and an hour later Sam's finally stopped shaking.
"Sammy?" Dean says carefully, drawing his attention. Dean's expression is disarmingly neutral. Sam tries for a smile, but gets a raised eyebrow in response so he assumes he's failed miserably. He sighs.
"I know, Dean. I know it doesn't mean he'll get better. I shouldn't get my hopes up. We still have no idea if he's got brain damage or how extensive it might be. I know things aren't really any better. But-" he swallows "Jesus, Dean, what if it'd worked? What if I'd killed him?"
"Hey" Dean says, resting a hand on Sam's shoulder "If it'd worked, he wouldn't have been able to survive on his own and the situation would be completely different, so don't even start"
Sam blinks hard a few times and nods.
"And for the record, I was going to ask if you wanted some coffee"
Sam huffs out a laugh that has a slightly hysterical edge, but he feels better anyway. He's about to say he'd love some when Fitzgerald makes his way over to them.
"Sam, Dean" he says in greeting. "Are you ready to talk?" he aims the question at Sam, who nods. The doctor sits on the coffee table in front of them and folds his hands together on his lap.
"So he's breathing fine." he says "His body seems to have figured out it needs oxygen again and it looks like he'll keep it up for the foreseeable future."
Sam nods, because he can't really do much else.
"I couldn't help but overhear you and your brother. You already know most of what I'm going to tell you, but I can reaffirm it for you. This is an improvement, but not necessarily a game-changing one. We can still continue if it's what you decide is best."
Sam starts shaking his head on the word 'continue' and almost interrupts the doctor with his quietly vehement "No."
He swallows and starts again "No, I can't- no. This time was a mistake-" he cuts himself off and presses his fist to his mouth.
The doctor settles a hand on his knee "It wasn't a mistake, Sam. You made the best decision with the information available to you."
"That's not-" Sam has to swallow to keep speaking "I know. But it was still a mistake. I couldn't- I can't live if he's-" Sam feels like he's crossed the border into unhealthy and stops talking in the hopes that both his brother and Fitzgerald will overlook where he was going with that sentence.
Fitzgerald looks at him sympathetically and nods, standing up "I'll take good care of him, Mr. Winchester. You have my word."
"Thank you" Sam answers sincerely. The doctor moves away and Dean lets out a breath.
"Come on Sammy" he says, tugging Sam to his feet "Let's go get wasted."
Sam spends the following week in various states of drunkenness. He comes out of it on Saturday for his show, where he somehow receives a standing ovation for his rendition of "He Stopped Loving Her Today". The tavern's owner is actually wiping his eyes when Sam comes down for a shot before he heads home.
He doesn't say anything when he finally gets up the courage to visit Gabriel again, just clings to his hand.
It takes time, but he bounces back. He works all day and sings every other night again. He laughs with his brother and tells Gabriel about how ridiculously in love Castiel and Dean are. He likes to think Gabriel would give him a smug smile and say 'you're welcome' if he knew.
Things are normal.
Until they aren't.
He gets a call at his office just before he leaves one Thursday afternoon. The man introduces himself only as 'Michael' at first.
"Are you Sam Winchester?" he asks sternly.
"I am. What can I help you with, Michael?"
"As I understand it, you've been given provisional power of attorney over my brother."
Sam quickly checks his memory for people he's been granted power of attorney for from work and comes up empty. "I think you might have the wrong office-"
"Gabriel Milligan. The doctor here says you have been paying for his treatment and making decisions about his care."
Sam feels a little like the floor dropped out from under him.
"Oh. Yes. I have been" he says dumbly.
"I see. Mister Winchester, I hope you understand when I say I won't be paying you back-"
"No. I mean- yes, I understand. It was never about that."
"Good, I'm glad we see things the same way. I'm sure you're busy, so if that's all I'll let you get back to work. You won't have to concern yourself with my brother for any longer."
"Wait!" Sam winces at the desperation in his voice. "Wait, um, Michael. Would it be okay with you...can I still come visit him?"
There's a pause on the other end of the line, then Michael's voice comes over even sterner than before "I don't see a reason for you to."
Sam swallows hard around the emotions bubbling up in his throat "We were- close. Before the accident. I visit him a few times a week now" Sam wracks his brain for any piece of information Gabriel had ever dropped about his brothers. He vaguely remembers a passing comment about them being dicks, but nothing other than that past being unable to find them after the accident. Nothing about how they might take his and Gabriel's relationship.
"I don't think it would be wise, Mister Winchester." Michael says. Sam is ready to dig his heels in or hell, beg if he has to, but Michael's next words leave him speechless.
"We've decided to let him go peacefully. You understand, I don't believe he would have wished to live this way and I'm not prepared to gamble when it's already been so long."
No. The word repeats frantically in Sam's mind while he fights to speak. Not after everything. Not after four years and all the ups and downs and he's breathing on his own and Sam finally, finally, finally sure of what he should do.
"Michael, I know it seems hopeless but please, don't give up on him-"
"Good day, Mister Winchester."
He hears a click and the dial tone assaults his ears with its offensive buzzing. He's throwing on his suit jacket before he has time to think and tells the receptionist he's going to lunch and won't be back afterwards. Michael may be Gabriel's family, he may have the legal right to steal away Gabriel's chance at recovery, but Sam will be damned if he'll just accept that.
When he arrives at the hospital he notes Fitzgerald's car in its usual spot and prays he'll be on Sam's side. Every nurse he sees looks contrite when they notice him.
"Is Michael here?!" he demands of Ruby, the nurse working the desk. She doesn't flinch at his tone even a little, just nods towards the two men walking his way.
"Mister Winchester, I assume." says the black haired one in the same voice that had come over the phone "I hope you aren't here to follow up on our conversation."
"Michael" he says, trying to calm down so as to have a rational conversation. He can do rational, he tells himself, he's a lawyer. He can convince people. "I am. If you'll just let me have a minute of your time-"
"It would be a waste of it" Michael snaps. "The decision has been made."
"Please, Michael." Sam feels desperate "He's made improvements just recently. It's too early to throw in the towel here."
"I have been fully informed of my brother's condition, Mister Winchester" Michael spits. "After this much time, I think these improvements have been too minimal to place any hopes in."
"How can you say that?" Sam asks, horror and anger rising in equal measure. He can feel himself shaking with it "You weren't even here for any of it! Where were you when he was in the ICU clinging to life?! Where were you when the doctors said he might not make it?! Where the hell were you for the four years I've been here for him?!"
"That is enough. If we had been aware of his condition from the start it would not have gone on so long. As of now my brother is a burden on society-" It's as far as Michael gets because Sam's fist stops him.
Michael goes down hard as Sam puts all of his six foot four fury into the punch. He's pretty sure he feels something break under his knuckles. Sam expects the blonde, who's been silent up until now, to defend Michael. Instead he just looks on, and if Sam is reading him right he actually looks a bit sympathetic - not for Michael, but for him.
Security swarms him a second later and he sees Doctor Fitzgerald looking on with wide eyes from the corridor.
"Garth!" he calls desperately while security hauls him away. They shove him outside like bouncers and tell him if he's not gone in five minutes they'll call the cops. He's pretty sure Michael is slurring something like 'arrested', but Meg is pretending to be unable to understand him. Fitzgerald comes out after him in less than a minute, looking lost.
"Sam" he says helplessly.
"Garth, please" Sam doesn't even know what he's asking. To see Gabriel? For Garth to not obey Michael's wishes? Anything, he supposes.
Garth looks near tears "I'm sorry, Sam. There's nothing I can do. They're his family. They brought paperwork, birth certificates, the works."
Sam hangs his head and swallows down the bile that's threatening to make an appearance. He stumbles to his feet, nods sharply, and heads for his car. Garth calls after him, but it doesn't register in Sam's swirling mind.
He drives home and sits in silence on his couch. Dean calls twice ("Sam, Garth called. He told me what's going on. I'm so sorry Sammy. Give me a call." "Damn it Sam, I'm getting worried. Pick up. Come on, I've rung your cell five times. Sam?") and Fitzgerald once ("Sam. I'm not supposed to do this, but. You know. We stopped the fluids and took the feeding tube out. There weren't any problems. I'll keep you posted. I'm sorry") but he ignores them. Eventually he gets up and heads to the tavern.
He sings all of two songs before heading to the bar and downing half a bottle of whiskey. He goes to work hung over the next day and spends most of his time there staring at the wall opposite him like it's the plaster's fault Gabriel's brother showed up after four years and took the decision of Gabriel's life away. It may have plagued him daily when it was his, but he'd have gone to the ends of the earth to keep it.
Most of him wants to either legally or illegally remove Michael from the equation. A small voice in his mind wishes that since Gabriel's fate is sealed anyway, he'd had the guts to do this sooner, if only so he could have spent every hour of Gabriel's last few days in the uncomfortable boxy chair they keep in his room.
Underneath his anger is a ball of hurt and gut-wrenching sorrow, a feeling of helplessness and a barely-contained breakdown that he knows he won't be able to keep down for long. Gabriel is dying, badly, and there's nothing he can do. He can't even hold his hand. He can't even see him.
He goes to the tavern again that night. It's Friday, and there are a surprising amount of people there, but he hardly notices them. Two shots see him on stage with the guitar under his fingertips. He takes a deep breath before he starts.
"This song is for someone I love." He says into the microphone "We were going to be together. I was going to ask-" he swallows hard "It was going to be forever. But there was an accident." he brings up his guitar, "This song is for Gabriel"
So he sings. He sings like it's his last night on earth, because it feels a little bit like it is. He sings like it's all he has left.
"The whole thing begins, and I let you sink into my veins, and I feel the pain like it's new"
The thin walls he'd set up around all his anguish crumble with the words. It's not soothing like it usually is. He's breaking apart and he feels like the music is the only thing keeping him from scattering to the four winds.
"Yeah you're probably asleep, deep inside of your dreams while I'm sitting here crying and trying to sleep"
He's spent years in stasis, but now, suddenly, he can hear Gabriel laughing and see him perched in a chair, ready to shoot off and cause havoc. Gabriel, who he fell for without reason, who took over his life and Sam hadn't minded at all.
"Tonight your memory burns like a fire"
Gabriel's going to die. The reality settles on his shoulders and Sam isn't sure, even after years of it being a possibility, how he's going to be able to even get out of bed without him.
"I know that you can't hear me but baby I need you to save me tonight"
He finishes the song and barely registers the stares and applause. As he blindly heads for the bar the manager pulls him into a rough hug.
"You drink free tonight" he says gruffly. Sam tries to say thank you but the manager waves him off, wading through the people around the bar to order him something. Sam probably could have gotten through easier because of his height, but he's glad he doesn't have to deal with the Friday crowd right now. Then a thought enters his head unbidden. Friday.
Garth works on Friday nights.
If he's ever going to have a chance to get in to see Gabriel, it'll be tonight, now, when next to no one is on staff and Garth, sympathetic, soft-hearted Garth is on duty. He's gone when the manager comes back, out the door without his coat and thanking god he hardly drank anything and can still drive.
He honestly doesn't remember the ride over. He feels like he should sneak but the adrenaline in his veins won't let him. Besides, it's long past visiting hours and Michael won't be around anyway. The automatic doors swish open to admit him and he's glad to see Meg at the desk this time. She glances up and calls for Garth without a word to him. Sam nods to her and waits impatiently for the doctor to arrive.
Garth comes down from the corridor leading to Gabriel's room, all but stumbling when he catches sight of Sam.
"Sam" he says helplessly. Sam walks over to him, determination and desperation warring for dominance of his mind.
"Garth-" he starts.
"You can't be here-" Garth says at the same time, but stops.
Sensing the opportunity, Sam speaks again "Please, Garth, just let me see him. I promise I won't do anything." Sam's voice cracks but he doesn't stop "Please, he's dying and I can't- I have to see him. Please."
Garth looks torn for a moment "You smell like alcohol, Sam."
"I sing at a tavern sometimes when I feel shitty" he explains quickly "I had a few shots, that's it. Garth."
He's prepared to go to his knees if he has to, but Garth just bites his lip and looks at Meg.
"Don't look at me, I've been on lunch for ten minutes" she says.
Garth nods and looks back at Sam "If anyone asks, you came in the window."
Sam laughs in relief and pulls Garth into a bear hug "Thank you, you don't even- thank you."
Garth hugs him back and then sends him on his way, trusting him to find the room on his own. Sam steels himself outside of Gabriel's door, trying to calm his racing heart, then pushes it open.
The room is illuminated only by the moonlight coming in from the window, but even so Sam can see that Gabriel looks even worse than usual, somehow lessened even though it's been just over twenty-four hours.
"Hey Gabe" he says softly. He moves the chair quietly to his bedside one last time and settles in for however long they let him stay. He takes Gabriel's hand in both of his again; glad to have even this short time with him, even if it's the last time. He wants to make it last forever.
"Your brothers are dicks" he says uselessly. He feels like laughing at himself.
Gabriel's lips are chapped. Sam digs into one of his pockets unthinkingly to retrieve the chapstick he keeps on him. It's the kind Gabriel used to put on all the time just to spend five minutes licking it off suggestively, chocolate flavored that actually tastes like chocolate. Sam had started using it just after the accident, which was a little weird but he really didn't care. It did taste good. He finds himself applying it thoughtlessly to Gabriel's lips and does laugh at himself, but it crumbles into a choked-off sob quickly.
"I'm sorry Gabriel" he whispers, still clinging to Gabriel's hand in one of his. He pushes Gabriel's shaggy hair back and presses a kiss to his forehead "I'm so sorry."
Sam rests his head on Gabriel's chest and falls apart as quietly as he can. Distantly, he thinks he feels a barely-there pressure on his hand. Gabriel sighs in his sleep, and Sam has to bite his lip to keep quiet. Then he hears something, a whisper without even a hint of voice behind it.
"Sam?"
Sam's breath catches. He raises his head slowly to look up at Gabriel. Gold eyes meet his.
"Gabriel?" the word is made up of more air and emotion than sound when it falls from his lips. Gabriel blinks at him and tries to smile.
His left hand fumbles for the chain that alerts the nurse of an issue, but he can't tear his eyes away from Gabriel's.
"Oh my god" he says softly. His vision blurs and he blinks furiously, frustrated with anything less than a solid look at a color he'd thought he'd never see again.
"Sam-" Gabriel whispers again, confusion evident.
"Don't try to talk yet" Sam says, petting back his hair mindlessly. "It's okay. You're-" he chokes, because he knows his next words are true "You're going to be okay."
Garth is at the door the next instant, concern turning to shock when he sees the reason he's been called. Sam is kicked out so fast he hardly knows what's happened. He's shaking so hard it's clearly visible to everyone who passes him, in shock to the point that he has no idea how much time passes between when Garth came in to when Dean flies down the corridor with Cas in tow.
"Sam, Meg called me. Oh my god" Dean says. Sam tries to talk, but nothing comes out. Castiel is suddenly there, pushing him into a chair and telling him to take deep breaths.
"He just woke up. I came here to see him one last time. He said my name" Sam gestures without purpose. "He's awake"
"That's awesome, Sammy" Dean says, one hand resting firmly on his shoulder. Cas nods in agreement. Some angel hands him coffee and he goes about trying to beat the world record for downing a drink in the shortest amount of time.
He's just starting to feel the shock wear off when he hears a familiar and much-hated voice say "What is he doing here?"
"He's been here for hours, where were you?" Dean stands between them, obviously ready to break some bones, but Garth cuts in before he can start trying.
"Gabriel asked for him when he woke up. I thought it best to listen my patient's wishes."
Michael is clearly displeased with this, but it's somewhat muted by the mass of bruising on one side of his face. "He's disoriented. He's just woken up from a four-and-a-half year coma. I still have say in who sees him."
Garth purses his lips and shrugs "Well, his mental state is for me to determine. I determined he knew what he wanted."
Sam cuts off whatever Michael tries to say next "Garth. Are you saying he's-"
Garth smiles "As far as I can tell, there is no significant brain damage. We'll have to test him a little more to know for certain, but for now I'm optimistic that he'll make a full recovery."
Sam shoots out of the chair and hugs Garth again fiercely "You are an amazing, awesome doctor" he says, elated "I could kiss you."
"I'd rather you not" Garth says, laughing. Sam lets him go and turns to Dean and Castiel. He's grinning so hard his face hurts, and tackles the both of them into hugs too.
"Sam, this is wonderful" Castiel says. Sam wipes his eyes and nods, still smiling.
Garth turns from where he's been talking quietly to Michael and the blonde, nodding in the direction of Gabriel's room.
"He's asking to see you."
Sam swallows hard "He is?"
Garth nods again "You can go in if you want"
"He's still awake?" Sam asks. His voice sounds small.
"Yeah. He's been pretty stubborn about it."
Sam laughs lightly. Of course he is. Of course Gabriel won't let himself rest. He looks warily at Michael, who's glaring but not saying anything. His companion looks like he's trying not to laugh.
"Okay" he says.
Again, he hesitates outside of Gabriel's door, this time out of irrational fear. It's been four years, and he's practically been on a bender for two days. He probably looks like last week's trash. Dean gives him a nudge and he shakes his head and pushes the door open.
The bed's been propped up to support Gabriel in a more upright position and the IV replaced in his arm. He smiles when he sees Sam. Sam decides he's never, ever seen anything so beautiful.
"Hey Sam" Gabriel says, his voice scratchy from disuse.
Sam closes the door behind him and walks over to sit on the edge of the bed "Hey Gabe"
"Your hair's longer" Gabriel observes. His eyes are sharp, but tired.
"Yeah. You were out a while" Sam manages.
Gabriel takes this at face value and moves on. Sam isn't sure if he wants to laugh or cry at such a Gabriel-like behavior. Wakes up from a coma and doesn't even ask how long he's been out.
Gabriel raises an eyebrow at him "My lips taste like chocolate."
Sam blushes lightly "Yeah."
"Sammy" Gabriel says suggestively "Did you make out with me while I was unconscious?"
"What-no!" Sam says, laughing. "It's that chapstick you liked so much-"
Gabriel's hand comes up to touch his face gently, concern taking over his amusement for a moment. Sam's crying again, he realizes. He's been doing that a lot lately.
"Sorry" he mutters, wiping at his face and taking Gabriel's hand, not for the last time now. He smiles in spite of himself.
"Been a long while, huh" Gabriel says, and Sam nods.
It's quiet in the room until Gabriel turns his hand just so and both of his eyebrows go up.
"Have you taken up bar fighting?"
Sam looks down at the bruises on his knuckles and blanches. "No" he says evasively.
As if on cue, Michael's agitated voice comes through the door. Something on Sam's face must give him away because Gabriel's mouth falls open. "Sam. Did you punch out one of my brothers?"
Sam winces "I...don't think I broke anything?" he tries.
Gabriel doesn't get angry. Actually, he looks a bit giddy. "Open the door, open the door! I want to see!"
"Gabriel, I don't think-"
"Sam, try not to excite him" Garth says from the now-open door. Michael's bruised face can be seen clearly behind him, looking on with an exasperated, angry, and ever-so-slightly softened expression. Sam winces again. Gabriel does a weak imitation of a cackle.
"Oh my god, Sam, I love you. Marry me."
"I left the ring at home" Sam blurts without thinking. Apparently it's got too much of a serious edge to it because Gabriel just stares at him.
"I was...it was just a thought, before. I get that it's been a while and you should probably-"
"Sam, as far as I know it's been ten hours. The last thing I remember is you saying we were going to dinner."
Sam swallows "That was the day before the accident."
"You'll have to tell me all about it. But first, ring?"
"It's there if you want it."
Gabriel makes a show of considering it, then nods and says "No."
Sam nods in understanding, even if it stings "Okay. I get that."
"If you want to marry me, you're going to have to work for it." Gabriel continues like Sam hadn't said anything. "You can start by punching Lucifer too."
Sam stares, then laughs, really laughs, for the first time in what feels like years. Then, as carefully as he can manage, he pulls Gabriel into his arms and kisses him. Gabriel's arms come around him and Sam feels light as air.
"Sam, I haven't brushed my teeth in like, years" Gabriel says when he pulls back, but he's smiling.
"I don't care" Sam says, kissing him again.
"Sam" Garth admonishes.
Sam pulls back and grins stupidly. Gabriel's eyes sparkle in the sunlight that's coming in from the window. He can hear Dean arguing with Michael, and he knows Gabriel will have a long road to recovery, but he doesn't think life gets much better than this moment.
"Seriously though, you have to work for it" Gabriel grins at him.
"Every day, Gabriel" Sam grins back.
-3 months later-
Gabriel leans one elbow on the arm of his wheelchair, boredly watching the other invalids play with balls and rubber and bars. It's all very dull. Sam smiles and makes his way over.
"Gabriel" he says, and Gabriel looks up at him.
"If they don't let me stop using this chair soon, I'm going to need a neck brace from trying to look up at you" Gabriel says in greeting. Sam leans down and presses his lips to Gabriel's in greeting, then straightens.
"You should take as long as you need. I'll sit if it helps" Sam grins easily "We should get going, they're expecting us at the tavern in half an hour. Everyone really wants to meet you, especially the manager and the owner" and hadn't that been a shock to find out. The matching rings should have been a giveaway, he supposes.
Gabriel gives him a look "They do?"
Sam has the decency to look faintly abashed. "Yeah. I made a little bit of a scene the night you woke up. Well, maybe not a scene, but I might have made some people cry."
Gabriel looks at him for a long moment and nods in acceptance "Okay. Help me up and let's go then!" He sticks out his hand for Sam to take.
Sam gives him a look but takes his hand and pulls him to his feet. Gabriel wobbles slightly before righting himself and taking a step towards the door.
"Awesome. Come on" he says. He doesn't let go of Sam's hand.
They make it to the door before Sam begins to suspect anything.
"Shouldn't we bring the wheelchair?" He asks when the doors swish open.
"Nah. It'll be less conspicuous if I sneak out this way."
"Sneak out?!" Sam cries.
Gabriel tosses a grin over his shoulder, lets go of his hand, and takes off running for Sam's car "Hurry up, Sam!"
Sam sends an apologetic thought to Garth and runs after him, laughing.