For part 19 of Post-Asmodeus Sabriel Feels, I've decided to respond to the following suggestion:
I keep thinking that it would be interesting (and a little painful) if later in his recovery process, Gabe does a bit of a 180 on Sam—either out of embarrassment at having needed him so much or out of the need to distance himself from anything to do with his vulnerability, he pushes him away (even unkindly). Not uncommon in people who've suffered severe trauma and their primary caregiver. And Sam doesn't handle that well and then Gabe has Feelings and needs to fix it.
(Anonymous, Archive of Our Own)
This was a tough one because it's tempting to keep Gabriel on a consistent upward swing. But that's not how these things go - any recovery takes twists and turns. Thanks for challenging me!
For anyone who's interested, I'm UnityGhost on Tumblr too!
Work Text:"What do you like?"
Gabriel surveyed the shelf of dry pastas: ziti, capellini, tricolor. "Oh, gross, Sam. What kind of morbid freak names an ingestible substance 'angel hair'?"
"All right, so that one's out. Here, let's get the pretty stuff." He placed a box of tricolor in their grocery basket. "Unless you have a preference."
"It's all gonna taste the same to me. Food-flavored. Not a fan."
Sam had thought it would be a good idea for the two of them to get outside for a while. Gabriel was tempted to stay in the bunker, where he could be alone when he felt like it, and where only the people he trusted were able to find him.
At the same time, he knew that Sam was right. Spending so many hours indoors meant that Gabriel was only growing paler and more tired. So he hadn't resisted, especially when Sam said that all he wanted to do was make a quick grocery run.
"All right," said Sam, "Can you think of something a little more palatable? Anything."
"Don't trouble yourself about it, okay? It's not as if I technically need food."
"You know you're better off eating than not."
Gabriel had the sense that Sam had come here specifically to find something Gabriel would willingly consume, rather than because he really needed to. The least Gabriel could do was try and humor him. "How about watermelon?"
Sam raised his eyebrows, perhaps not having expected Gabriel to respond. "Watermelon?"
"Or something equally sweet and insubstantial."
"Yeah, sure, let's go get some." Sam turned to exit the aisle when there was a piercing shriek.
Gabriel yelped.
"No no, look," Sam said, hastening back to his side, "It's just a little kid, see?" He pointed to the dairy section behind them. A child aged about three was sitting at the front of a shopping cart, tears streaming down his face.
The middle-aged man steering the cart looked exhausted. "Please stop."
The child screamed and began to kick his legs in fury.
"Nathan, seriously, knock it off. You're breaking Daddy's eardrums."
Nathan sputtered something indecipherable.
"No," the father answered, a touch of firmness creeping into his voice. "It's not the time for peanut butter cookies; those are only for special days. Here, how about this: you can have some the next time Miss Jordan tells me you were a good listener at school."
"I am a good listener!" the child screeched.
"Gabriel?" Sam said softly.
"Go back!" Nathan screamed. "I want cookies! I want them!"
Gabriel turned to look up at Sam, feeling himself go white. "No - no, no, no - Sam - I - "
Sam grabbed Gabriel's wrist. "Let's get out of here."
When Gabriel tried to move, his knees buckled and Sam had to pull him up by the arms. "It's okay, I'm gonna get you home." He half-dragged Gabriel out of the aisle, abandoning the shopping basket.
Angel hair pasta, Gabriel thought as the child's screams began to grow dim. No thanks, Barilla.
The parking lot was mostly empty. Sam kept a loose hold on Gabriel's arm as they walked back to the Impala.
Sam opened the passenger side door for him and eased him inside. By the time Sam was in the driver's seat, Gabriel had begun to tremble and felt there was no chance of getting himself to stop.
"Hey, it's okay, it's all good," Sam soothed. "How're you doing?"
Gabriel shook his head. "I'm sorry."
"No, everything's fine; I just - I knew as soon as the kid started screaming about what he wanted that you …"
The unspoken hovered between them, a block of darkness against midday.
I hate that word, Gabriel had told Sam once.
"Yeah," he mumbled. "For some reason those memories, they … they're a special kind of messed up."
"Well, let's go home so you can take a breather."
Gabriel spent the entirety of the ten-minute drive with his forehead pressed to the window, intent upon avoiding Sam's eyes.
"Come on," Sam said once they got inside the bunker, gesturing in the direction of his bedroom, ever conscious of the fact that Gabriel tended to feel most at home there, rather than in his own bedroom.
Gabriel followed, but remained in the doorway when they arrived. Sam turned back to look at him, frowning. "What's wrong?"
"I don't know. I ... " But he faltered, unable to come up with the right words.
"What, are you still scared? Is it your stomach?"
"No. Sam, it's - " He gave a frustrated sigh. "Grocery shopping has got to be the most peace and quiet you ever get. The most everyday task imaginable. And I know you know I didn't mean to, but … that one second; that one stupid, mundane thing that the four of you have never had in your entire lives. I ... I mean, ruining the most basic things ... "
Sam offered an uneasy smile. "You almost make it sound like we've never been accosted by shapeshifters disguised as deli clerks."
"It's normal to go to the supermarket, Sam! Normal well beyond Winchester standards! It's like - that's where you can at least pretend to have an ordinary existence."
"It really isn't. You know we're always looking over our shoulders."
"This still feels different; I didn't mean to throw off that one taste of mundanity you ever get!"
"Gabriel." Sam spoke slowly, carefully, as if addressing a frightened child. "I don't expect you to pick and choose where you keep it together. Seriously, don't be so hard on yourself. I'm not upset about it."
"Well, I am!"
"Yes, Gabriel, I know. But you couldn't help it."
A spasm of rage tore through Gabriel. "Exactly! What's next, Sam? Huh? 'Oh, look, see that cashier's name tag? Looks an awful lot like the pack of Go Fish Asmodeus used for his house of cards.' 'What's that? Squash is in season? Sorry Sam, no can do; reminds me of the Christmas lights Asmodeus used to string up.' 'Oh, Sam, oh, help me, the song playing over the speakers is the same one Asmodeus used to sing in the shower!'"
"Gabriel, stop."
"Well, I'm hardly being unrealistic!"
"Look." Sam sounded half irritated and half desperate. "You can't predict when something's gonna mess with your head, okay? And I don't expect you to. Besides, if anyone knows what a crisis is, it's me, and this is no big deal. I didn't think twice about it; I just need you to be okay."
"Well, clearly I can't even do that much. And no one is confiscating your right to self-sacrifice, but I - I just - I - "
"You what?"
Gabriel took a deep breath. "I need to be by myself. I need you to leave me alone. For a while. Let me -" He backed out into the hall. "We can talk about this later."
Sam's features grew solemn. "We're talking about this now."
"Just give me, like, an hour to get myself together."
"What the hell makes you think I would do that?"
"What the hell makes you think it's okay to force me under surveillance?"
Sam was taken aback by the violence in Gabriel's tone. "I'm sorry, that's not what I meant. I only wanted to - "
"It's like being in prison all over again if I'm not allowed privacy! Stop trying to make me talk to you, because I can't right now, I just can't!"
It took Sam a second to assemble his response, and when he did, his voice was softer. "Look, I know you don't feel well, but - "
"No. Sam. Stop it. Leave me alone." At this point, Gabriel wasn't even sure he really wanted to be by himself. There was something flailing in him, something hard and belligerent. Where this forcefulness was coming from he couldn't have said. All he knew was that he had to fight - that he had to tear at something, had to hurt something.
Sam moved nearer. "Let me help. Let someone help. It doesn't have to be me. I bet Jack could cheer you up; you could hang out with him for a change. He says he wants to spend more time with you. He's worried."
"You really think I'm going to expose Tiny Tim to Cirque du Archangel?"
"It's not a good idea to let you stew in your own mind right now. That was a lot, man. I know. I saw. And if you could've gotten a glimpse of your face - I was afraid I was going to have to get some paramedics on the scene."
"Well, do I look like that now?"
"No, but you seem … agitated."
"Oh, 'agitated,' right. Okay. Better break out the king's guard. What do you think I'm gonna do, Sam, go on a scavenger hunt for the blades?"
Sam tensed, remembering how Gabriel had confessed to a temptation to look for the archangel blade or, alternatively, the angel blade - which, while Gabriel was stuck in a near-graceless state, would have been equally effective. "You've been doing okay lately. Not as okay as any of us want you to be, but … okay. You said you trust me. And the others. I know how difficult that is for you, but you can't stop now."
"Not trusting you? That isn't what this is about, Sam. Where'd you get that?"
"I can tell what's going on. You're giving yourself crap for what happened. You're upset and you think you're protecting me by not letting me near you."
Somehow this made Gabriel angrier. He barreled on, longing to stop himself but unable to contain whatever aggression had built up since the incident in the store. "Is that what I said? It isn't what I heard. You need me to translate?"
"Gabriel, what's wrong with you right now?"
Simultaneously enraged and ashamed, Gabriel turned away. If he could have answered Sam's question, he would have. There was simply something he couldn't control, something that perhaps he didn't want to control.
"Gabriel," Sam pleaded, "If you're mad - you know that's allowed. Whatever you are - that's allowed. Just don't try to hide it from me, okay? Please."
Gabriel whirled around. His face and neck felt flushed. "I'm leaving."
Sam shook his head in disbelief. "But why?"
"Because I should never have done what I did, that's why!" Gabriel shrieked. "Because you were living, Sam, living in the simplest, most innocent way, just for those few seconds, and I took it from you! You don't need me right now! Really, you don't need me ever, but - but especially not right now! I'm - " Gabriel found that he was having trouble breathing. "I'm as bad as that kid. A spoiled brat demanding something I don't deserve. I don't want to make you look at me, I don't want to make you touch me, and I don't want you not to make the dinner you planned on for yourself and Dean and Cas and the kid just because I didn't give you a chance to do the one thing you were going to do that didn't involve nursing me! You deserve what you I ruined for you because I can't manage to hold myself together for more than ten minutes at a time!"
Sam only replied once he had recovered from Gabriel's spasm of fury. "Okay - first of all, that's not true; you hold yourself together at least ninety percent of the time. And two, I don't care about dinner!"
"And you have to convince yourself of that because the alternative is taking inventory of just how much you're sacrificing and realizing how tired you are. And then you're going to feel guilty, and that'll make you put in twice the work, and you won't even consider the fact that me being a disaster isn't as important as that fragment of peace and quiet you could wrangle if you had any self-respect!"
Sam stared, eyes wide, face pale.
"So leave me alone!" Gabriel barked. "Do what you were going to do! Or punish me! Or - or just make this right!"
"Okay, okay, it's okay - " Sam moved to brace his hands on Gabriel's shoulders.
Gabriel shoved him away, and Sam fell against the nightstand, hitting his hip on the corner and hissing in pain.
Gabriel, contrary to his plea for retribution, scrambled backward so that Sam wouldn't have immediate access.
Slowly, Sam straightened himself, watching Gabriel with the same expression he got whenever he realized the body count was higher than he'd been led to believe.
The silence settled over them like the soft, teasing bite of a predator.
It was during the hush that Gabriel saw tears in Sam's eyes.
"Son of a bitch," he whispered. "Sam - I didn't - "
Sam opened his mouth, but it seemed he was incapable of speech. He simply shrugged, avoiding Gabriel's eyes.
"I hurt you," Gabriel choked. "Sam, no, I didn't mean to hurt you; I - I didn't - "
Still looking away, Sam swallowed and shook his head, then strode past Gabriel to the door and disappeared into the hall.
Gabriel leaned against the wall and hugged himself. "No. No. Oh no. No."
He'd been a lot of things since coming to the bunker - intrusive, burdensome, messy, demanding. But he'd never been dangerous. Of course, there had been a few instances of lashing out when he was caught up in his memories, scratching someone when they tried to hold him or slapping their hands away when they tried gentler contact. But his mind hadn't been intact then: he had been in Hell, waiting for a different kind of touch.
This time, he'd been fully aware, fully present. He had simply been angry.
Gabriel's breathing grew shallow.
It's what he would have done to me.
Gabriel felt bile rising in his throat.
Don't get sick on the floor. He'll see; he'll come back; he'll -
"Uncle Gabriel?"
Crap. Not the kid. Why didn't I shut the door?
Gabriel didn't want to look up - didn't want to show his face. Jack didn't know how gruesome Gabriel was. He was too innocent to realize that he was breathing poisoned air.
"Hey," said Jack, "What're you doing? Why are you alone?"
Gabriel forced himself to raise his eyes. "Because I'm a multi-thousand-year-old grown-ass archangel who reserves the right to solitude. Except," he added bitterly, "Who's to say I have any rights left at all?"
Jack frowned. "I don't understand."
"That's good. You don't need to understand any of this. It's stupid."
Jack's face grew almost comically solemn. "I'm not too young to help you."
"Hey, it isn't about that. This just isn't your responsibility."
"How is it any less my responsibility than Sam's? You let Dean and Cas take on some of the work. Why not me?"
"Okay." Gabriel raised his index finger. "First of all, I don't 'let' them do anything. They overrule every time I remind them that it isn't their job to spoon-feed me. I'm the one who should be in charge of getting myself back in one piece. And second, you're not supposed to see your uncle like this. No matter how old you get, I still don't want you watching any more of this train wreck than you have to. Because I'm eons older than you. I'm supposed to be the one picking you up after you fall on your face."
"But how many times do you think Sam has been the one to pick Dean up? Or how about the way they both get Cas back on his feet when he needs them?"
"Look, Jack, kid, dude, homie - you're wrong. The fact that you're still just a - "
"If you call me a baby again, you can't have any more of my Swiss Miss."
"Fine. That you're still so new means you shouldn't be forced to be there for the adults in your life. I don't care how much you've seen. I don't care how much you've done. I can't lay any of this on you."
"Can't or won't?"
"Shouldn't."
Jack scrutinized him. "What happened just now? Why do you look so scared?"
"Scared? I'm not scared."
Jack didn't reply, simply waited for Gabriel's answer.
Gabriel sighed. "Jack, can you … can you just …"
"Can I what?"
Gabriel steadied himself and moved to the bed. "Can you come sit with me?"
Jack surveyed him, trying to ascertain whether he was serious, before obliging.
It was strange having Jack's meager weight on the mattress instead of Sam's. "How much do you know, kid?"
"I know that you were tortured. And that you decided you could trust Sam pretty early on. He's a good fit for you - sort of a halfway point between Dean and Cas."
"Fair analysis. But there's … there's a lot more."
"I know."
"You really don't. You have no idea how much you don't want to be a part of this."
"Just tell me."
"You've already had a taste. I'm assuming you haven't forgotten that you were the first to catch me flailing around in a puddle of my own vomit two weeks ago."
"Of course. So that happens a lot?"
Gabriel sighed. "Those three - they've seen that and more. Over and over again. And that's not even counting the times I don't let them catch on. I mean yes, I'm an archangel. And yes, that gives it a whole new spin. This is a deep, deep low. But if I were something else - angel, human, anything else - this would still be degrading. The honest truth is it's hard for all of us to watch - and that includes Sam."
"What, you think I'm not watching?"
Gabriel made a noise of disgust. "You shouldn't be."
"Well, I am."
There was a long silence, during which Gabriel tried to shut out the echoes of the little boy: I want them, I want them, I want them …
"What does he do?"
Gabriel shook his head, trying to clear it. "What?"
"What does Sam do to keep you trusting him?"
"He …" Gabriel couldn't quite figure out how to explain his relationship with Sam. "When I first escaped, when I was dragged here - he just sat with me and let me lose control. It was horrible but it shook me out of my own head a little. I sobbed like a kid at Grandma's funeral. I shattered glass and puked into the mess." He ran a hand through his hair. "Man, I wish I couldn't remember all this so well, but … I remember it because of Sam. Because of the way he just let me hurt."
Jack contemplated this; and Gabriel wondered, stomach curling with shame, if he was trying to picture this grotesque moment in Gabriel's recovery. "And what about now?"
"Now? Well, now he does the same thing. Drives me nuts, but I don't think I could keep going without him running into my room in the middle of the night the second he hears me hit the wall when I'm trying to find the door. And the way he puts up with me even though I bring back memories of Lucifer. He's got the patient of a f-" Gabriel glanced at Jack's intent, painfully innocent gaze. "Funky saint. And if I had to babysit a terminally insane Messenger of God, I'd send it to an orphanage."
"No you wouldn't," Jack protested. "I know you. What if I was terminally insane?"
"All right, all right, you got me. Fine. But there's no way I'd be able to play mom if you had a bottomless inventory of memories about being held captive in Hell. Sam and I both do, and he gets overwhelmed. He told me he gets overwhelmed. So he passed some of the cleanup duty on to Dean and Castiel, but he still always wants to be the one to bring me back to reality. I don't understand it, but man, do I freakin' need it."
For a few moments, Jack didn't speak, processing Gabriel's explanation. Then he asked, "Why were you alone just now?"
Gabriel shifted. "Because right now I'm okay."
"You don't look okay."
By this point, Jack already knew too much. There was little point in trying to shield him from further fallout. "Because I got mad at Sam for doing what he does - caring about me - after I messed up his day. I threw him into the nightstand. It'd be better for him to stay away from me for a while. For his sake."
Jack shook his head. "He just wanted to help."
"Yeah, of course, but I … I screwed him over and he was still being nice to me, and I haven't had a lot of sleep, and I got real touchy after this whole scene in the pasta aisle, and - "
"Uncle Gabriel," Jack said quietly, "You should talk to Sam. No way is he angry. He never gets angry at you."
"Not true, actually. When he's had enough of my drama, and he thinks I'm gonna hurt myself …"
"That's not really angry; that's scared."
"Well, he always says as much. Do you even know where he is? Where'd he camp out after I assaulted him?"
"You should check the library."
Gabriel stared at the floor. "Have you seen him? Is he okay?"
"Well no, I haven't, but I know he's not gonna be okay unless you are."
"I'm never okay. It's gone out of style. Anyway, doesn't matter. I've got to tell him I'm sorry for treating him the same way Asmodeus would've treated me."
Jack laughed in disbelief. "No way did you do anything like that."
Suddenly unable to speak, Gabriel shrugged.
"Hey, Uncle Gabriel - I can go get him right now. I can bring him to you. He's not gonna be mad, I promise."
Gabriel swallowed and shook his head again, no matter that seconds ago he had insisted upon seeking Sam out.
"Don't you want his help?" Jack pressed.
Gabriel jerked his head up. "I don't want anything."
"What? We all want things."
"No. No, not me. I don't. I don't want anything."
Stop it; stop touching me, stop!
What's that just come outta your mouth, boy?
"Uncle Gabriel." Jack sounded alarmed. "What's wrong, what's the matter?"
Which one of us do you think has the authority to use that word around here? It ain't me runnin' empty now, is it?
You took enough! You can wait!
Doesn't matter if I have enough, Gabriel. So long as your grace is down for the count, well, I just might not have what I need when I need it, will I? It's you that's gotta be ready for action. And you dare to expect special treatment just because you're feelin' a little … what? Sleepy? Queasy? You oughta know better 'n that by now, boy.
"Uncle Gabe, please talk to me!"
I'm sorry!
I know you're sorry.
Grace - grace is supposed to come back faster with food. Please, I need to eat, I -
You have the nerve - !
Please, I'm hungry!
Oh, you're hungry, are you? I didn't hear a 'thank you' when I fed you your last meal.
Gabriel could taste it, then and there, on the bed: the sour slickness of his own insides as Asmodeus pinned him to the floor.
And what use is there in giving you something you're just gonna puke up all over me?
I won't if you stay away from me!
"No, wait, hey, Uncle Gabriel, I'm right here!"
I'm sorry, what was that?
Nothing, that was nothing -
That wasn't 'nothing.'
"Okay, here, hold my hand. Isn't that what you like? When you're with Sam?"
I come in here to find you empty as an Easter basket on Halloween, and you dare tell me to give you a little me-time? Is that what I heard? 'Cause that's what it sounded like.
Please, I'm hungry!
"What can I do? Uncle Gabriel, what can I do?"
All right then, angel-pie. Here, I can make you a little something-something to satisfy that sweet tooth of yours, how does that sound? Wouldn't want you dyin' on me, after all now, would I?
"Sam!"
Please, no -
I didn't hear you say 'thank you.'
I'm sorry - I'm sorry - thank you -
"Sam! Where are you? Sam, I need your help!"
No, boy, it's too late. 'Sides, if I have to sit here and watch you shovel my food into your mouth like the greedy little pig you are, fattening yourself up -
Don't take it, it's mine; I want it!
"Oh my god - holy crap - Jack, what's wrong with him?"
"I don't know; he won't move, he won't talk to me."
I want it! Give it back; I want it, I want it!
Gabriel felt his face pressed into Sam's chest, heard Sam murmuring to him, telling him it was okay, that he was safe, that there was nothing to be afraid of. He felt his body jerking with sobs, heard his own hoarse wailing.
"Easy. Easy does it. Jack, maybe you should get out of here; I know this is a lot."
"No, I'm not leaving him."
I'm hungry!
Gabriel was shivering and moaning now, and Sam tightened his grip in order to keep him as steady as possible.
Give it back, give it back; I want it!
"Okay, ssh, it's okay; you're not with him, you're with us. With me."
No, I want that, it's mine! That's mine! Give it to me!
"Jack, go get the bucket in case he throws up. It's in the closet."
Gabriel knew this wasn't real, but it felt so immediate - so right there -
I'm hungry!
Gabriel took in sharp, short breaths. "Sam - "
"Hey, yeah, that's it. I'm here. So's Jack."
"Sam," said Jack, "He thinks you're mad at him. Because he pushed you."
"What? No, Gabriel!"
"I hurt you." Gabriel spoke in a hoarse whisper. "I'm so sorry, I didn't - Sam, I - "
"Gabe, stop. I'm not hurt. No need to feel guilty, okay?"
Gabriel whimpered.
"Hey, hey - deep breaths."
Gabriel slowed his breathing as best he could. Nausea tickled his throat.
"Jack," Gabriel said, voice trembling, "Can you leave?"
Gabriel couldn't see Jack's face, but he sounded dejected when he replied. "Why?"
"'Cause I think I might get sick and I don't want you to watch."
"I don't mind."
"Jack," Sam interrupted, "Go get a cold towel, okay? It'll help."
Jack hesitated for only a second. "Sure. I can do that."
There was the sound of Jack's footsteps, and then Sam eased Gabriel away so that he could look at his face. "Whatever that was, it's over. You're not there."
"No, I know, I just - the way it feels, I - "
"Yeah. It's okay. I get it. Let yourself come back. Slow as you need."
Gabriel nodded and rested his head against Sam's chest again. "Sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry about."
"Sam, you left; you were about to cry."
"I - that was because I felt like I wasn't helping you. I was trying and it wasn't working. That's all. I just didn't like seeing you so deep into it that I couldn't reach you."
Gabriel groaned.
"Feeling sick?"
"A little."
"No problem. Just give me a heads up if it gets bad."
Gabriel caught the sound of hurried footsteps, then Jack's voice. "Here."
"Thanks, Jack. Hey, Gabriel, I'm gonna put this wet cloth on your neck, okay?"
"Okay." Gabriel still flinched when Sam laid it there, but the cold proved a nice distraction from the nausea.
Even so, the voices refused to tone down. Gabriel gagged once and Sam shifted to maneuver the bucket over to him. "You're okay. Just focus on me."
Gabriel was still trembling. "Where's Jack?"
"Right here!" Jack sounded alert, almost eager. "Can I do anything?"
"Jack," said Gabriel, "Seriously, I need you to leave. Please."
"Gabriel - " Sam began, but Jack cut him off. "It's all right. I mean … if he needs time with you … and if I'm going to make things worse …"
"You're not," Gabriel told him. "Just do me a favor and don't let yourself watch me vomit if it comes to that. Whether or not it bothers you, it bugs the crap out of me."
There were a few seconds of silence.
"Okay," Jack said, and Gabriel heard him leave. He even had the courtesy to shut the door behind him.
"It's better if it's just you," Gabriel muttered, still held steady in Sam's embrace. "I'm not ready for him to see any more of the worst."
"Maybe you can let him in eventually."
"I don't know, Sam. I kinda just wanna wrap him up in an electric blanket and watch The Great British Bake Off with him. He's ... I can't infect him with this. I know he's desperate to help, but I - " Gabriel swallowed. "I can't believe I just had one of my signature psychotic breakdowns in front of him."
"He's fine. Just worried about you, like we all are. He cares. And like I said, he's seen plenty already. You're a part of his life now, and he doesn't like to watch you hurting."
"But if he sees me as something he needs to take care of, instead of the other way around - "
"Hey, come on, stop. He sees you exactly like we do. The only difference is that he didn't know you before. Don't fight him on it, okay?"
"Sam," Gabriel replied, "Sometimes I think you don't understand just the depth of my self-disgust."
"What? Where did that come from?"
"Kid shouldn't be around me. I don't like being around me."
"I like being around you."
"That's because you're some kind of freak of nature."
"We all like being around you."
Gabriel closed his eyes. He longed for that to be true - and if it was true, he hoped that wouldn't change. Because Sam and the others ...
I want them.
Gabriel pressed himself more closely to Sam.
I want them. They're so good to me.
"Are you okay?" Sam murmured.
Don't leave. I want you.
And if he wanted, if he wanted anything at all ...
I want you right now, please -
"Okay, all right, there we go, it's okay - " Sam positioned Gabriel's head over the bucket. "Just get it out - "
There was mostly bile for Gabriel to vomit, and the taste was enough to keep him heaving for several minutes after it had been expelled.
"You're okay, you're good; just breathe as much as you can, Gabriel."
Again and again his stomach contracted, and the word echoed in his head - want, I want, give it to me, I want it, I want you, help me -"Calm down; don't hurt yourself. It'll all be over soon."
All Gabriel could do was wait, and it felt as if the sickness would go on forever, that he would never be able to stop no matter how much Sam reassured him, that this violent nausea was a casket holding him hostage from the inside.
"Gabe, there's nothing left. You gotta relax."
Gabriel felt dizzy as he gasped for breath. Somewhere in his mind, he registered just how pathetic the sound was.
Sam eased Gabriel onto his back, shifting his head so that it was on the pillow. "You need water," Sam told him. "I'm gonna get some; I promise I'll be right back, okay?"
"No," Gabriel grated out. "No!"
"Okay - okay. I won't. Here, let's fix this up." Sam tugged the blankets out from underneath Gabriel and covered his body. Now Gabriel felt too warm. Sam seemed to notice, because he reapplied the damp towel. "We've got to get you some water. Where did Jack - "
"Sam," Gabriel croaked, "I hurt you."
"No you didn't. That has nothing to do with anything."
"I'm dangerous."
"Gabe, come on."
"I shoved you, I threw you - "
"Ssh. You were upset. You had a lot going on."
"Don't let me hurt you."
"You're not hurting me. You're hurting you because you're so rough on yourself. Now listen, I'm gonna get someone in here to bring you water and then you need to sleep."
"Creative son of a bitch," Gabriel mumbled.
"What?"
"Asmodeus. Always coming up with something new."
"I know. I know, Gabriel."
"Did the dumbest things to hurt me." Gabriel felt that he had little control over what he was saying. "Me begging for food, asking for my brothers, groveling at his feet, pleading with him not to leave me alone. Bad as being flayed alive, Sam."
Sam grimaced.
"All I did was want, and he kept breaking me. Guy knew what he was doing." Sam looked blurry, and Gabriel blinked, mouth dry, stomach still uneasy. "Should've put his mind to something more productive. Horror novels. BDSM. 'You've been a bad girl, haven't you? Mmm, you want your kidneys ripped out with a back scratcher, don't you?'"
"You need water," Sam said. "Right now. Then you need to sleep."
"No, I don't need water; I need you."
"Okay, well, just sit tight. All I'm gonna do is open the door and get Jack's attention, okay? And he can get you something to drink. I think you need to clear your head a little."
"No, don't - "
But Sam stood up and hastened to the door. When he next spoke, his voice was full of surprise. "Have you been there the whole time?"
"I thought you might need help."
"Uh, yeah, actually, can you get a glass of water? He's dehydrated to the point of delirium."
"Then can I come see him?"
There was no reply, and Gabriel suspected that Sam was either nodding or shaking his head. At this point, Gabriel was too weak to care who saw him like this.
The next thing he knew, Sam was lifting his head and pressing a glass to his lips. "Just a little, okay?"
Gabriel took a single swallow.
"Yeah. Good. That's it. Think you can manage some more?"
"Mm."
"Here, let me." This time it was Jack who coaxed him to drink, while Sam supported his head. Gabriel collapsed after the second sip, limp and exhausted.
"Sam." Jack sounded worried. "Is he gonna be okay? He looks almost … dead."
"Yeah, he'll be fine. But I'm going to hang around. He'll freak out if he wakes up and I'm not here."
"Let me know if you need a break. 'Cause, you know. I'll be around too."
"Okay." Gabriel heard the smile in Sam's voice. "I will."
After Jack left, Gabriel opened his eyes. "He's tougher than he looks."
"Yeah, he is."
"I'm sorry, Sam."
"Gabe - "
"Not just for hurting you. For trying to get you to leave. I know you only meant to help. And if you ever stopped helping, I'd … I would … please just don't. No matter how many times I tell you to piss off."
"I just need you to trust me. That's my only standard for you. Trust me, it's gonna make such a difference if you decide to go all in and not worry about me ditching you. Doesn't matter how many times you throw me into furniture. I know why you did it. You can't be in total control every day. That's just how these things go. Now listen - go to sleep. You really need it. I'll wake you up in an hour or two if you want."
"Don't want anything," Gabriel whispered.
Sam pressed the towel to Gabriel's forehead, wiping the sticky sweat from his hairline. "Changed my mind; I have another standard for you to meet."
Gabriel squinted, peering up at him, trying to get him into focus.
"Want something," Sam instructed. "Want anything." He inched the blankets upwards so that Gabriel was covered more securely.
"And then," he added softly, "Ask for it."