Short little fic. A larger one with these two will come later because friggin hell even if they don't really interact on the show their relationship is and can be so friggin cool.
Spoilers past 9x09. needs to update the name.
Why do you talk so...properly?
Gadreel frowned at the stray comment from his vessel. He considered ignoring it, even quashing it. Ever since he learned of Gadreel's presence, Sam Winchester spent most of his time fighting for control, and it was all Gadreel could do to keep it. Any sign of weakness was found and attacked, and if it had not been for Dean's spell backfiring and weakening Sam instead of the angel, Gadreel was not sure he would be winning. There was a reason, he saw now, that Sam had been able to overthrow Lucifer those years ago.
But this did not seem like an attack. Simply making conversation. Which was fine for Gadreel as well; he was not in the mood to fight, not when he finally had a moment's peace. Metatron kept him busy, to say the least, but for now he had no orders. Presented with the sudden freedom, Gadreel had taken the opportunity to find an old and forgotten home to gather his thoughts before the next orders came.
"I do not know what you mean," he said finally.
Like that, Sam said. You, you never use contractions, and there's kind of this, I don't know, rhythm to the way you talk. It's almost archaic.
"Archaic?"
Look, all I'm saying is I remember when Castiel came to earth, he had a weird way of talking, too. Still does, I guess. But you? You don't really sound like you've talked to anybody in awhile.
He considered that statement for a moment. "There is some truth to that, I suppose. Before the Fall, I was imprisoned for a very long time. I did not have much company."
What, angels have jail? Isn't that kind of...contradictory?
Gadreel raised an eyebrow. "Yes, we do. I thought you would know angels better than that."
I do. It was a joke. And apparently you can't take one any better than Cas could.
"You sound remarkably like your brother at times," he said with a frown. He could feel Sam's soul grin.
He'd like that. Don't tell him.
"I do not plan to." He never planned to see Dean again. Sam saw the thought and fell quiet. Gadreel felt his emotions rear up, and he geared himself for another attack, but instead of lashing out Sam sagged back down and sighed.
Why are you doing this? he said finally. You know me. You know my brother. We can help you. I don't know what you did or why they locked you up, but working with Metatron isn't the answer. Believe me.
"He is my brother. He accepts me." He needs me. Forgives me. You of all people should understand that. "Does that mean nothing?"
Sam flinched, but pressed on. Of course it means something. If it was anyone else. But you can't trust him, Gadreel. No way in hell. Please. I've done this before. I've let myself get manipulated by somebody who claimed to accept me. Don't make the same mistakes I did.
Gadreel paused to consider that. He had access to those memories, of Metatron stealing Castiel's grace. Of Ruby. He could feel no dishonesty in Sam's words. He knew Sam was probably right.
But he'd never been forgiven. Not once. And forgiveness is a hard thing to give up.
"And what will happen of me, Sam?" he asked. "Will your brother welcome me with open arms, or rip me out and banish me? Will you allow me to stay, or will you let him?"
I- Sam stopped, but his thoughts kept moving. I want to assure him, but he's in my skin, he's an angel, I can't do this, I can't lose my body again, I can't lose control, Dean, please, my skin is crawling and I can't control it, help...
Gadreel nodded, and said nothing more.