"C'mon, Sammy," Azazel grinned wickedly, "what? Are you scared?"
"No." Sam retorted bravely, puffing out his chest. "I'm not scared."
"Then go up and touch the door knob!" Jeered Alistir.
"Wel-well..I.."
The sixteen year olds green eyes scanned the empty grey house. He saw the watered down black shutters, some were just barely hanging onto their hindges. A window on the second floor was broken and shattered. The screen door was ripped and due to the autumn wind it was flapping slightly, banging against the side of the house, its squeaking was immidetly followed by loud smacks. The lawn was overgrown and was attacking the old rusty chain link fence, licking the metal and rust with its yellowing green tips. There was also a large maple tree in front of the yard, but it was bent an odd way, like it had been bullied for years by the wind and it just grew that way. The branches sprawled out and clawed outside towards the three boys on the leaf covered sidewalk.
It was mid-Septmeber and already the leaves were changing colors. The old maple trees leaves always fell sooner than the others, some say its because its so old. Others say its because its death itself.
Dean always said this house reminded him of the movie The Exorcist.
The house on Oak Street was a legend in the town. Every memory Sam has of it its always looked ancient. Some people, like Sams dad, John, and Uncle Bobby, say they can remember when the house was white and clean, and when the grass was freshly mowed and a garden grew out back and there was always a dark haired little boy swinging on the tire swing that hung from the maple tree. That there was a pretty red headed girl who used to jump rope on the drive way when she was younger and when she was older she would have boys over and her older brothers from college would always make it a point to come vist. They remember every Thanksgiving the boys would have a football game, and when their youngest brother was born they would let him play also, even though he didn't know the rules. The sister would sit on the porch swing with her mother and cheer them on. Others recall a more horrible side of the house. They say the father used to beat his children and he was never home because he was having an affair. They say the mother was insane and was once seen chasing her husband out the door with a baseball bat. They say the oldest children were spoiled while the younger were nearly starved to death. The children never wore shoes and hardly left the house, and when they were seen outside they had cuts on their arms and circles under their eyes. People say they looked dead already.
But Sam thought those were just stories. They were all just stories.
High School students were known to tell their young trick or treater siblings on Halloween and then make them go up and touch the door. Groups of teenagers also sometimes claimed they've walked inside, one even said he spent the whole night there and he had seen things no one would believe. And no one did. You could name a story about the Oak house and Sam had most likely heard it.
"So, Winchester," Azazel swaggered in front of Sam. "You going up there? Or are you too sac-awrd?"
Sam glared at the football player and huffed heavily out of his nose. Sam Winchester doesn't scare easily. Dean has taught him better.
His older brother told him that Sam shouldn't be afraid of anything Dean isn't afraid of; and if he was scared, he can suck it up.
Sam wasn't afraid of much and he certainly wasn't afraid of a silly old house with an even sillier Halloween folk tale to go with it, and Sam also wasn't afraid of Azazel.
"I'm not scared." He growled, walking right up to the rusty gate door. As the gate squeaked open he could hear Alistir gasp behind him; "He's really doing it!"
The path to the house didn't seem so far away when Sam was looking at it from outside the fence, but as he walked the dirty, leaf covered, rock path, he felt like time had slowed down. It seemed like every living thing had gone silent in that moment to watch him walk up to that grimy old house. The only thing Sam could hear was his own slow breathing and his heart beating his ear drums to death.
Sam wasn't scared. Or at least thats what he told himself.
When he finally reached the porch he felt like he was a million years old. He placed one foot on the rooting wood porch and a loud squeak ripped through the silent air.
He froze.
"C'mon, Winchester!" Hollered Azazel. "Go inside!"
Sam threw him a look over his shoulder, that was not the orignal plan, he was only supposed to touch the doorknob.
"Yeah, c'mon, Sammy!" Alistir teased in a mocking baby voice. "Or do you want big budder Dean to come save you?"
The two hooted with laughter as Sam growled a curse under his breath, digging his fingernails into his palms. He didn't know why he couldn't just ignore the two bimbos and go about his buisness. Maybe it was because they've always picked on him since Middle School and he wanted to take any chance he could to prove himself to them. Or maybe he was just trying to be like Dean.
He'd never admit to either.
"I don't need Dean." He muttered, spinning back towards the decaying mahogany door. "I'm not a little kid.."
He took a big step forwards and the porch didn't creak anymore as he reached the dusty gold doorknob. He collasped his hand around it and twisted, to his surpise the door popped open.
For a moment Sam stared down in shock and disbelief. Were the stories really true? He shook his head calling himself crazy before taking a mindless step forward into the dark house.
The only light came from the sun that shined in dully through the thin curtians. It was horribly stuffy; there wasn't any oxygen, only dust.
Sam swatted the particles away and coughed, looking around the big house. A handsome marble staircase twisted up to the second floor, a chandilier hung from the ceiling. Whoever lived there last must have left in a hurry because there were still some portraits hanging on the walls, Sam couldn't tell what of though; for all he knew they were pictures of the family cat.
Sam wasn't exactly sure how old it was, or how long it's been abandoned, but Deans been telling him stories about it since he was about six years old. Sam once asked his brother when the stories began but Dean merely shrugged and said that people just talk, people talked when the house wasn't abandoned.
Sam wandered over to the middle of the room. The house itself gave off a bad vibe, but Sam felt odd. He felt this heaviness on his heart, a twisting in his stomach, like something bad happened here. Surely those stories Dean used to tell him where just stories, there's no vengeful spirits in this house; there's no such thing.
But Sam thought he had seen a dark shadow out of the corner of his eye. He spun around to see nothing but furniture and dust.
"Azazel are you in here?" He shouted, taking a step backwards. "If you're trying to scare me it's not going to work!"
Sams eyes darted all around him, his senses in overdrive, waiting for Azazel and Alistir to jump out and grab him. There was a sudden crash from upstairs, like a vase had broken. Sam snapped his head up towards the sound, staring at the ceiling, waiting to hear another crash, or hear Azazel laugh.
Silence.
Sam took another step back and his heart jumped into his throat when there was a crunch under his shoe. He looked down and slowly lifted his foot, expecting to find bones or some other kind of remains. Instead he saw something shiny, glinting in the dull sunlight.
He slowly bent down and scooped up the trinket in his hand, letting the chain dangle down his finger tips. It was a silver chain necklace, it was a bit dusty but other than that it looked good as new. Maybe a girl had come in here on a dare and lost it. People normally were dared to come in here throughout the year, but its more common during Halloween time; its even more common for people to not go through with the dares.
Sam studied the necklace that rested in his palm. It didn't look like anything special, the pendant was a perfect rectangle, and as Sam moved his thumb over it it felt like something was engraved in it. It was too dark to tell what though.
Sam heard another noise and jerked his head towards it. He stood up quickly and shoved the necklace in his pocket without thinking.
"Azazel." He said sternly.
Silence.
"A-Alistir?" Sam began to whimper, stepping towards the front door. The hat rack to his left suddenly fell over and Sam jumped a little. He then realized how ridiculous he was acting and chuckled, shaking his head. "All right, all right, you guys got me!" He called out into the house. "Ha, ha, very funny. I'm leaving now. I did what you wanted and I'm going home."
But as Sam reached the door he saw that Alisir and Azazel were already outside. In fact, they were still standing on the sidewalk, they looked like they hadn't moved at all.
All the air rushed out of Sam's lungs as he saw the two there, looking at the house and kicking the leaves impatiently.
"H-how...did..they.." Sam muttered numbly, he felt pale and sick.
A cold presence crept up Sam's back. Goosebumps crawling up his arms and neck.
He could feel someone behind him.
He slowly turned to look over his shoulder, then pivoted all the way around.
His eyes grew as wide as saucers as he gazed up at a blank white sheet floating in midair. Sam gaped up at the sheet, mouthing wordlessly.
"Boo."
Sam screamed and scrambled out the front door, nearly tripping over his big feet before jumping the steps of the wooden porch and darting out of the weed populated yard, past Alistir and Azazel who were shouting out catcalls and jokes at him.
Sam hardly heard them, he was running blindly down the street towards his house.
All the while back at the abanddoned home, Azazel and Alistir doubled over in laughter. But there was another who was laughing. In the house a cackle erupted from the doorway, across the yard and haunted Sams ears.
That was the laugh that followed Sam all the way home.
Sam slammed the door shut behind him, locking it and then pressing his back against it, panting hard. His eyes were still wide with panic and his face felt white.
"Sammy?" Called Dean. "What the hell are you doing?"
"N-Nothing!" Sams voice was hoarse as he tried to catch his breath.
"Cas, go check on Sam willyah?" He heard Dean grumble.
A moment later the senior, Castiel Novak, walked into the foyer from the kitchen.
Castiel was Deans best friend, nearly everyone knew that. They've been best friends since Dean was a Freshman and Cas was in eighth grade and got to take Alegbra at the High School. They were in the same class and have been inseprable ever since. He was always over, always with Dean. Sam can't think of one memory over the past five years that Cas wasn't a part of. It was like Cas was an adopted older brother and Sam thought of him as one. He never seemed like he wanted to go home and he never spoke of his family, not in front of Sam anyway.
Cas was a pretty weird kid. He was mostly quiet around people he didn't know but Dean could get him talking your ear off in a heartbeat. He also always wore a trench coat over his clothes. He stuffs it into his locker during school due to teasing but other than that he's almost never seen without it. Sam used to think it was wierd but he's grown used to it, now its like he looks naked without the tan oversized coat covering him.
Cas scanned Sams face with puzzlement. "What's wrong, Sam?"
The young Winchester gulped hard and removed himself from the door, his backpack falling to his side as he trembled slightly. "Nothing-nothing I'm fine...I just..dog chased...me home." He lied.
Cas squinted at him and blinked, turning his head to the side, like he didn't belive the story. That's another thing about Castiel, Sam swears he can read minds.
Cas patted Sam on the back and smirked. "You're okay now, Sam. I'm sure that dog didnt mean any harm. Dean is making macaroni and cheese for you."
All Sam could do was nod. He felt like he was in shock, everything around him was moving too slow and his brain was moving too fast. That insane laughter still rang in his ears like obnioxious bells, his heart pounding against his stomach.
The two walked into the kitchen and Dean looked over at his little brother. "Hey, Sammy," He greeted before turning back to the stove. "What's the matter with you? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Huh?" Sams heart jumped.
"I said you looked like you've seen a ghost." Dean repeated, pouring the pasta into the strainer in the sink. "Are you okay?"
"I'm-I'm fine."
"A dog chased him home." Castiel piped up from the kitchen table.
Dean stiffened. He didn't like dogs. He wasn't scared of them, he just didn't like them (He made sure to stress this around Sam). When Dean was around Sams age he had been attacked by a stray on his way home. It nearly killed him. He could be dead right now if Cas hadn't been there. Dean still has scars on his back and abdomen and sometimes if someone mentions dogs or a dog walks past while their walking in town Sam see's Dean gingerly rubbing his stomach, as though he can still feel the dog tearing into him.
"What dog." Dean demanded.
"Uh-Um it was the Migillians dog...the one that they bought their son for Christmas..."
"..The yorkie?" Cas tried to cover a scoff.
"y..yes..." The back of Sams neck started to feel hot. God, he thought, why did you say that?! Getting chased home by a little yorkie is ten times worse than being chased home by a ghost.
His older brother merely shivered and muttered, "I hate dogs." as he dumped the macaroni into the bowl and added milk. It didn't seem to matter to Dean what kind of dog it was, he didn't like them. From his eyes they all had the potential to rip into you.
Sam let out a breath and sat at the table with Cas, who was still smirking. "Was it really the yorkie, Sam?" he asked as he took a drink of milk from his glass. "Or was it something even more terrifying? Like a mouse?"
"Hey, shut up, willyah.." Sam muttered, looking at the table so he wouldnt smile.
"C'mon, Sam, what was it? Really?"
Sam flicked his eyes over to his friend, feeling almost cetian Cas could read minds now.
He decided that it was probably best just to tell him, Castiel may be his closest friend and he was confindent he could tell him anything. He wouldn't think he was crazy..would he? Cas hated scary movies because of the slight feeling that they are real, maybe he would belive Sam.
"Okay, well...Alistir and Azazel-" Cas frowned. He knew those two well. Everyone knew them. They were quite popular and Cas didn't like Sam hanging around them. Sam didn't like them either of course, but the two always followed him around. "-they dared me to go inside that old house on Oak. The abondaned one with the broken window and the...the tree.." Sam stopped himself when he saw the look on Castiels face. He had suddenly turned very pale with an olive tint, like he had just been diagnosed with the flu. His blue eyes turned glassy and distant. "Cas..? Cas are you okay?" Sam breathed.
"What?" He shook his head slightly and looked back to Sam. "Oh-oh, yes, I'm fine..." He then took a deep breath and sat up very straight. He wouldn't look at Sam throughout the rest of the story.
"-And then I ran home...There's something in that house, Cas. I saw it."
"Listen," His friend said in a stern, low voice, "There is nothing in that house. Nothing. You just thought you saw it. There isn't anything in that house, Sam. They're just stories."
Sam gazed up at Castiel with big eyes. Cas never spoke to him like that before.
"Oh-kay, Cas..." Sam responded unsteadily as Dean placed three bowls of Mac N' Cheese on the table.
"What were you guys talking about?" He asked, sitting down and piling food into his mouth.
"Nothing." Anwsered Cas hardly, glaring at the bowl.
Dean gave his friend a funny look and then turned to Sam. "What'd you do to him?" he nodded towards Cas.
"Nothing..." Sam said softly, suddenly becoming interested in his dinner, but he had a loss of appetite. He merely moved his food around with his fork.
Dean looked back and forth between the two, frowning, his green eyes cold like an alligator. "Okay, what the hell is going on?" he wiped his mouth aggitatedly with his sleeve.
"Nothing, Dean." Cas said slowly. The two stared at each other for a while before Cas took a bite of food as if to prove his point.
Dean pressed his lips together and went back to eating, looking at Cas out of the corner of his eye.
Now Sam was sure that both of them could read minds.
The four high schoolers walked along the muddy path, three boys and one girl. One of the boys held a flashlight in his hand, torching the dark night. the girl stuck close to him.
"Come on man, is it much farther? I'm cold."
"It should just be up here..." The boy held the flashlight out in front of him, looking through the mist.
"Whoa.." The girl gasped.
"There we go."
"How'd you find this place anyway, Thirston?"
The old house loomed in the distance. It was old. Uninhabited. Practically falling a part. It sat in the clearing of the woods in Richardson, Texas, far away where no one could hear you. It was surronded by darkness, the moon hid behind the clouds.
"My cousin told me about it." Said Thirston with a smirk. The girl next to him scanned the dark house with wide eyes.
"I am so not going in there." She huffed.
"Wuss'." Snorted Thirston. "We came all the way out here to check it out."
"Let's just hurry this up and get back to the car all right?" One boy said, shoving his hands into his jacket pocket. "It's friggen cold out here."
Thriston and his friend hurried along ahead, their boots sticking to the mud as they walked towards the house looming in the distance.
"Want me to hold your hand?" The other friend asked the girl, holding out his palm to her. She looked at him and thought about it for a while before clasping her hand in his and swinging it inbetween them.
"Is there...anything else I can hold?" He joked.
The girl scoffed and hit him hard in the shoulder, jerking her hand away from him. " Shut up, Loser."
"Come on!" He laughed, holding out his arms as though he had done nothing wrong as he watched her storm away towards the house.
The friends opened the squeaky screen door and filed in one after the other. Thirston shined the flashlight along the walls to illuminate funny looking signs and squiggles painted on the brick. A pentagram was etched on the floor.
"No way..." Breathed one friend, "Look at this stuff..."
"Come on," Said Thirston, turning to look at the high schoolers. "Its this way."
The four shuffled behind their leader as he lead them to the next room, explaining the story to them as he casted the yellow light in front of him. "They say that it lives in the root celler. It goes after girls. Always girls. It just...strings them up.."
"They say?" Commented his friend. "Whos they? Where'd you hear this crap?"
"I told you, my cousin."
"And where'd she hear it?"
"I dont know. She heard it."
His friend scoffed and smirked, "whatever. Gimmie that thing." He swiped the flashlight from Thirston and opened the cellar door. His two friends followed behind him, the girl hung back, staring into the darkness with fear before slowly joining the boys in the cellar.
"ooohhh look! Its the evil root cellar," Called out the boy sarcastically as he stepped off the squeaky staircase and walked into the cellar, coming up to a shelf with jars lined up in a row filled with subtances neither of the teenagers could identify. "You know where Satan cans all his vegtables. Come on, get your candy ass' down here and see for yourselfs. It's just a basement full of skank-filled jars in some crap farmhouse. I don't see anything scary. Do you?"
The others joined him and looked around the dark basement as their friend held the flashlight under his chin and cackled. His friends stood in front of him and looked up, their eyes growing wide with terror and their jaws dropping open. "What?" He asked them, puzzled. "What is it?" He slowly turned, thinking perhaps his friends were teasing him.
His eyes fell upon a girl, a rope knotted around her neck. She hung from the rafters, her eyes were distant and blank. Her face pale white and purple bruises sprouted on her neck from the thick brown rope. Her short hair framed her face and strands fell across her cheeks.
The boy screamed.
Sam tapped his pencil against the side of his mouth, staring down at his notebook. He couldn't think of what to say next at the moment so at the top he scratched out the title Hell House. He thumbed through his other stories boredly, perhaps looking for insperation. Finding nothing he flipped his green book closed and tossed it onto his side table.
He sat up and stretched, rubbing his eyes. Sighing heavily before falling into his mattress sideways and nuzzling his head against the pillow. When he shifted in his bed to get more comfortable, he felt something press against him in his pocket. Confused, he sat up and dug into his jeans.
He pulled out the silver necklace, his eyes flashing. "Oh.." he breathed, looking down at it. That incident in the house on Oak street seemed like it had been yearsago. In reality it was a mere few hours before.
He could now see the engravings on the pendant; it was actually a dog tag now that he could see it in the light. The tag said in all capital letters:GABRIEL
On the other side was a pair of angel wings.
"Pft," Sam snorted and rolled his eyes. Maybe he'd pawn it to go to the movies this weekend.
"Careful with that, my mother gave it to me."
Sam lept from the bed, yelping. He spun around and saw a teenage boy sprawled out in a model pose on his bed, his head resting in his hand. He had golden hair and carmel colored eyes. His eyes reminded Sam of those carmel candies in the white wrappers Uncle Bobby sometimes brought for him and Dean. He was also wearing plain jeans-although they looked dirty-a green jacket, a plain white tee shirt, and black Chuck Taylors.
"Who are you?!" Sam screamed, "What are you doing in my bed?!"
The boy smirked and sat up, clearing his throat and spreading out his arms as he introduced himself. "I am Gabriel. I'm your ghost!"
"What?!"
"Your ghost!"
"WHAT?!"
"Will you please stop screaming?" Gabriel said as though this was a regular thing and rolled his eyes. "People are going to think youre crazy."
"I'm crazy?!" Sam backed up to his wall. "You're the psycho who broke into my room!"
"I didnt break in," The ghost scoffed, "..I floated in..."
"What the hell are you talking about?! HELP! DEAN! HELP!"
"Will you shUT UP!" Gabriel hurried off the bed and over to Sam, placing a hand over his mouth. "shut up dammit! They're going to think you're crazy!"
Sam looked up at Gabriel with wide hazel eyes, breathing hard out of his nose. He wasn't very tall, Sam was probably an inch taller than him. This boy was maybe five foot, he came up to Sam's forehead.
Gabriel looked into Sams eyes for what seemed liked hours before he whispered. "Better now?" Sam nodded slowly and Gabriel released him. "good."
"y-y-youre-youre a-a-a-"
"A ghost? Yeah. I think I covered that."
"B-but-ghosts arent..."
"Don't say it!" Gabriel gasped suddenly. "Don't say it!"
Sam stared at him quizzically.
"Don't say ghosts arent real! OH-NO!" He gasped again. "Oh no! I said it! Oh no!" Gabriel collasped on the ground and shivered. "Oh no..I'm...I'm dying-I'm going to ghost Hell! Not now! No! I'm so young!" Gabriel began to what Sam thought looked like melting. He was melting into the carpet in a slow blueish mess and vanishing right before Sam's eyes. "Is-is that you Casper?" Gabriel whispered dramatically, reaching out his hand to nothing. "oohhh what a world...what a world.."
And then, Gabriel was gone.
Sam looked around and streched his foot towards the carpet where the ghost had just been moments before.
Nothing.
Not even a piece of that bluish gak left from him.
"This day just keeps getting weirder-"
"SYKE!" Gabriels head popped out of the ceiling.
Sam screamed and fell backwards into his trash can.
Gabriel began to laugh as the rest of his body flodded in. "Oh God, that was classic! You should have seen the look on your face!"
That laugh. Sam knew that laugh. A lightbulb clicked on in Sams head and he glared up at the now floating Gabriel."You were the guy in the sheet!" He growled. "At the house on Oak!"
"Yeah I am!" Gabriel wiped his eyes, still chuckling. "I scared you so bad!"
"I wasnt scared!" Sam stuggled to get his butt out of the trash.
"Yes you were!" Gabriel howled. "You screamed like a girl!"
"Shut up!"
"Oh, god, I'm going to enjoy hanging out with you, kiddo!"
"Hanging out? Oh, no, no, no, no!" Sam wiggled himself out and stood up shaking a finger at the ghost like a frustrated mother. "No you are not staying here you are leaving!"
"Of course I'm staying here, silly," Gabriel grinned a lopsided smile and ruffled Sams hair. "I'm your ghost now."
"Says who?"
"That necklace you have in your hand." He nodded to the chain dangling out of Sams fist. "You found it. As long as you're touching it, you can see me and hear me."
"What if I just don't touch it?" Sam retorted.
"Don't be a smartass. Of course you're gonna touch it. Who wouldn't want to hang out with a radically awesome ghost like me? Look, kiddo, I've been stuck in that house for years with absoluetly no human contact, waiting for someone, anyone, to pick up my necklace so they can see me."
"But-in movies..."
"Yeah, yeah I know in movies people don't need to touch an object in order to see ghosts ya-da, ya-da, ya-da, i know, i know...I just haven't learned how to do that yet.."
"What kind of ghost are you?" Sam snorted.
Gabriel glared at him and snapped, "An awesome one!"
"ri-ight.." Sam nodded saracsitcally.
"What's your name again?" Gabriel asked, changing the subject.
"My name is Sam."
"Sam.." He repeated, as though testing the name. "Sam.."
"Sammy?" Dean opened the door and poked his head in. "What the hell do you think you're doing up here?"
"Nothing." Sam looked up at the ceiling.
Dean arched his eyebrow at his brother before glancing at the ceiling also. "Whaa-t are you looking at, Sammy?" He asked slowly.
"Nothing." Sam snapped his head back to Dean. Gabriel snickered.
"You've been doing a lot of nothing all night..." Dean pointed out. "You sure everythings okay?"
"Y-yeah, yeah I'm good." Sam beamed a smile at his big brother and Dean gave him a funny look.
"Okay...well...keep it down.." He casted Sam another puzzled look before shutting the door behind him and heading back downstairs.
"He didnt see you!" Sam blurted, turning back to the ghost.
"Well, duh," Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Thats what I just told you, Dumbo! You can only see me when you have my necklace."
Sam looked down at the dog tag in his hand and then back at Gabriel. "Am I going crazy?"
Gabriel shrugged. "Probably."
Sam sat on his bed and wrapped the necklace around his neck. He decided he would keep Gabriel.
For a little while at least.
"Gabriel," Sam asked in the middle of the night as he walked downstairs to meet the ghost in the kitchen. "How old are you?"
"thats an odd question..." Gabriel responded. He was going through the cupboards haphazardly but looked over his shoulder when Sam spoke. "I'm seventeen. You?"
"Sixteen." Sam said, reaching for an apple in the fruit bowl. "How old are you supposed to be?"
Gabriel paused for a moment and thought, "I dunno.." He pressed his lips together. "I think I should be...Twenty-something." He then shrugged and went back to the cupboards.
"What are you looking for anyway?"
"Candy. Its nearly halloween and you guys have nothing! You're so unprepared! You're so gonna get your house egged."
"Its September."
"Really? Hmm...Never too late to stock up." Gabriel rolled his shoulder.
Sam rolled his eyes. "I'll buy some this weekend. Check the top one, I think Dean stores Hearshy bars up there."
Gabriel cheered with victory as he pulled one out and tore off the wrapper, munching happily.
"I didn't think ghosts had to eat?" Sam smirked.
"Well," Gabriel swallowed. "We don't have to eat but we can, and oh, baby, I have missed candy more than air!" he took another bite. "I hardly had these when I was alive. My mother never bought us any."
"What was your family like?" Sam asked, curious.
The ghost froze, his carmel eyes unblinking. "My family..." he repeated dully.
"Gabriel?" Sam said softly, realizing he had hit a nerve and instantly felt guilty. "Gabriel are you okay?"
"Yeah.." He said. "My family..they were..they were great.." His eyes flashed and he smiled at the floor, like he had just remembered a sweet memory. "Yeah..I had a beautiful mom and a dad...two older brothers, a little sister...and a baby brother.." He looked to Sam and smirked, "He's probably around your age now."
Sam tried to smile back.
"Yeah.." Gabriel said again. "But enough about me, what about your family?"
"My family?" Sam smirked. "Well, we used to be normal I guess...my mom died when I was only a baby...my brother Dean was four, he remembers her the most, he tells me about her sometimes...my dad though...he doesnt talk about Mom much. He drinks a lot...and works..." Sam tossed the apple back and forth in his palms. "I think its so he doesnt think about her as much. Keeps his mind busy, you know?...I got an Uncle Bobby too..he's more of a Dad than my dad.."
"Sorry about your mom," Said Gabriel, he was floating on his back, gazing up at the ceiling, both arms tucked behind his head. "And your Dad too I guess...But hey, about that thing you said about how your family used to be normal.."
"Yeah?"
Gabriel looked down at Sam and smiled. "No families are ever normal, kiddo."
yeah, Sam thought, maybe having Gabriel around isnt so bad.