Sam and Dean Didn't Talk about their relationships any more. Sam could only assume that was because, this time, he was sleeping with a guy: in the past, Dean had never stopped himself from giving Sam grief about any of Sam's girlfriends, as few and far between as they had been.
Equally, Dean had never really ever stopped himself from spilling just enough about his own conquests that it made Sam wish he didn't have a brother. Sam could have written multiple porn movies with the details Dean had gone into about the girls he slept with, and Sam could only attribute his silence this time on it being a 'serious relationship'. The only girls Sam knew nothing about were Lisa Braedon and Cassie Robinson - Dean's previous 'serious relationships'. (He was pretty sure that there was something he didn't know about Rhonda Hurley, but he was also pretty sure he didn't want to know what it was.) It wasn't as if Sam didn't know that Dean and Cas were serious, because they were freaking made for each other; they just didn't talk about it.
This was Okay, because talking about things that involved Feelings was something that Winchesters just didn't do. Talking about Feelings inevitably led to the dreaded Chick-Flick Moment, and that was a thing that Must Not Happen, lest the world think any less of them and suspect that they might be real human beings with real problems and real emotions after all.
Sometimes, Sam wondered whether Gabriel and Cas had the same issues, and made himself laugh every time because even though they didn't have the human hang-ups that were stopping him and Dean, Cas was about as expressive and verbose as a rock and Gabriel could be too when he wanted to; whenever he got uncomfortable. They were all as bad as each other.
Which led Sam neatly to his dilemma, because he wanted to break this new rule he and Dean had. He needed to talk to Dean about their relationships, as awful and uncomfortable as it was going to be. Because there had been a few days, right at the start, when the angels had been open books to him; when neither angel had been able to hide how he was feeling. There had been only one time when Sam had felt even just the phantom warmth of Gabriel's wings and enjoyed the security of being cocooned in strong, sleek feathers, and Sam missed it: he hated not being able to see or feel something that was such a fundamental part of his partner.
"Can you still see Cas' wings?"
"Sam!" Dean predictably shifted uncomfortably behind the wheel and risked a sideways glance at Sam. "What the hell do you want to know that for?"
This 'talking' thing could turn out to be a dangerous tactic, because Sam realised he would have to 'fess up to his and Gabriel's little deception if he wasn't careful; it was kind of their fault that he and Dean had ever been able to see the angels' wings in the first place. They had conspired together, Sam had gotten Dean into a position where Gabriel could cast the spell, and had gotten himself cursed accidentally in the process. But it had worked; Dean had been able to see just how happy Cas was around him, and the sudden open-ness had led directly to them getting together. And Dean was happy, which meant that he wasn't growling at everyone and everything, which meant that Sam could try to be happy too. Gabriel was a huge part of Sam's happiness, and the wings were kind of a huge part of Gabriel.
"I could never see them as clearly as you," Sam said. "I just wondered if the spell had worn off, that's all."
"Not as much as I could at first," Dean admitted, "but…"
"They're a part of him," Sam prompted. "You want to be able to see them."
Dean grunted, keeping his eyes firmly ahead on the road. Sam could see the blush creeping up his neck. "Yeah."
"I can't see Gabriel's," Sam said. "It wore off for me before he even came back. I kind of miss them: at least I knew what he was feeling before."
"Before what?" Dean asked sharply, shrewdly. Sam cursed himself inwardly: he had forgotten that while Cas knew that Gabriel had been hanging around before the time he had invaded their hotel room one night about a month ago, Dean didn't. To be fair to Dean, he had probably suspected something because he wasn't stupid, but Sam had always texted Gabriel, or gone for a walk or a run to keep their face-to-face meetings a secret from his brother.
"Sam," Dean said, his tone dangerous, "tell me that hot cheerleader witch that cursed me was not your Trickster boyfriend."
"Um…"
"I'm going to freaking kill you! What the hell, Sam?"
Sam boggled at him. "Are you kidding me? You and Cas needed a shove in the right direction, otherwise you'd still be tiptoeing around, staring longingly into each other's eyes."
Dean made a noise of protest before snapping his mouth shut, his jaw clenching in irritation.
"He suggested giving you some help," Sam continued. "The spell was my idea – he just helped me out with setting it up and doing it."
"Man, that's all kinds of messed up," Dean said. After a pause, he asked: "Does he ever turn into a girl for sex?"
The answer was 'no', but Sam got kind of distracted with thinking about that. Because sex with Gabriel was amazing – he knew exactly where all of Sam's buttons were, and he had embraced Sam's kinks wholeheartedly, but Gabriel had yet to give himself to Sam in that way, female or otherwise.
"You're imagining it right now, aren't you?" Dean asked wickedly. "Him mojoed into those curves? You've got that kind of stunned face, so I'm guessing he doesn't?"
Sam glared and flipped him the bird. "Can we go back to not talking about our sex lives now?"
Dean snorted. "You started it, man. Your fault."
.oOo.
The subject was dropped, but Sam couldn't stop thinking about it. Now he had two things bugging him and he wondered whether he should bring either of them up with Gabriel since, despite Sam knowing the secret identity he had protected for so long, Gabriel still had a lot of walls up. The frustrating thing was that he was trying to give Sam as much of himself as he could, but he was (unbelievably) too uptight to unwind entirely. Particularly since he didn't want to draw the attention of his big brothers.
"What's up, cupcake?"
Gabriel bounced onto the bed next to him, and Sam assumed that Dean had sent a text to the angels to let them know where they were, as was becoming their custom when they stopped for the night. Just as it had become customary to book separate rooms using the credit card Gabriel had bestowed on them. That was something that they were still both getting used to – they weren't used to not living in each other's pockets and not having the other one snoring away beside them when they woke up from a nightmare. The angels were great companions, and Gabriel was great at keeping the nightmares away, and he was pretty awesome in other ways too, but it wasn't the same as hearing Dean in the bed by the door, having his gentle snoring lull Sam back to sleep in the middle of the night.
Sam shrugged in response to Gabriel's question. "Just thinking. It's been a long day."
Gabriel's hands smoothed across his shoulders, his clever fingers finding the knots and digging his fingers in, easing away the tension the human way.
"You think too much sometimes," Gabriel murmured in his ear, breath catching his hair and making it tickle across his skin. "It's not good for you; makes you all tense and knotty and bitchy."
Sam wanted to protest the 'bitchy' part, but in his heart he knew Gabriel was probably right – he was just as screwed up as Gabriel, and he did have a tendency to be the bratty and, yes, bitchy younger kid that Dean didn't always call him out on.
"Come on, tell me," Gabriel said encouragingly, still working on Sam's loosening shoulders. "You'll feel better."
"I can't," Sam said with a groan as Gabriel found a particularly tight knot at the base of his neck. "Not yet."
"Promise you're not going to do anything stupid?"
"I'm not going to say yes to Lucifer, if that's what you mean," Sam replied with a little relieved laugh. "Dean and I do stuff you would consider stupid every day."
"True," Gabriel replied, and Sam could hear his smile. His fingers were still working, thumbs pressing hard enough to leave bruises. "Geez, Winchester, how the hell did you get this tense without flight muscles?"
"It's a special power I have just to annoy you," Sam told him matter-of-factly, after a moment of hesitation where he wondered if Gabriel had been picking around in his brain after all. The wing thing was a bit too close to the mark for comfort.
The warm hands slipped away: Gabriel had noticed. "Sam? What is it?"
He turned to look at Gabriel, who was all of a sudden getting to that stage where he hid behind his vessel rather than inhabiting it fully. He wasn't all the way there, but he was definitely sat more stiffly than usual.
"I've not grown wings, if that's what you're asking."
Gabriel eyeballed him. "Don't be flip: Dean does it so much better it's embarrassing. Tell me."
"You'll think I'm pressuring you."
Gabriel's eyebrows climbed upwards. At least his face was still making expressions. Kind of. "You? Pressuring me? Remind me which of us is the all-powerful cradle-snatcher here?"
Sam threw his hands up. "Fine. Since you'll just rummage around in my head if I don't tell you, because you're insecure enough to do that, here: I miss seeing your wings, okay? I hate that you can close your vessel off when you're feeling vulnerable, or upset, or sometimes when you just look at me and I can't tell what you're thinking or what you're feeling because you've gone all 'angel' on me, like Cas does all the freaking time. I hate that you don't trust me enough to let me see you all the time, not just Loki."
Gabriel's face dropped into that frozen expression for just a couple of moments before he seemed to shake himself and realise. His face fell, his eyes hurt and gentle, his shoulders slumping, which made his body seem even smaller than usual.
"I don't even know I'm doing it sometimes," he admitted softly. "I'm so used to hiding I don't even know who I am properly any more."
Deflating and kind of glad he had gotten this off his chest, Sam reached out to hug Gabriel. The angel reciprocated gladly, tucking himself into Sam's broad shoulder with a practiced ease.
"I know," Sam said as he stroked Gabriel's arm, completely unconsciously. "I didn't want to tell you because I know how hard you're trying to work these things out and you don't need me adding any more pressure on you."
"Sam, don't. Don't let me get away with this crap. We're supposed to be together, right? Boyfriends or partners or lovers or whatever term you want to use for us. That means we need to be open and honest with each other. And I need to be as honest with you as you have to be with me."
Sam hadn't even really thought about it like that, but he supposed Gabriel had a point – since Sam didn't have the best poker face in the world (he was good, but Dean wiped the floor with him every damn time) and he was sleeping with a telepath, it did only seem fair that he could at least have an inkling of what Gabriel was feeling at any given time. Plus, it had been damn hot seeing the barest shadow behind Gabriel the first time they had sex, making him seem so much bigger than the delicate vessel that was shorter than some of the girls Sam had dated.
"Let me have a think," Gabriel said. "I'm sure there must be a better way than that spell to help out here."
.oOo.
Honesty and thinking about things were all very well and good in theory and nice to hear, but it didn't seem to pan out in practice: over the next few days, Gabriel got more and more withdrawn, getting quieter and quieter and hiding more and more behind that inscrutable front his vessel could be when he let it. Sam knew that he shouldn't have said anything, shouldn't have pushed Gabriel before he was ready. Especially not with only a week or so to go before Valentine's Day, which he already knew Gabriel loved, given it was essentially an excuse to descend into total hedonism in the name of romance.
Gabriel was being all angel, acting more like Cas than Cas, and Sam couldn't bring himself to do what Gabriel had said and call him out on his shit. He knew he should, because Sam's problem was just getting worse and worse; he had absolutely no way of knowing what was going on with his boyfriend, what he was thinking or feeling, and it was really frustrating to not have those all-important cues to allow him to help. It helped that it wasn't just Sam that was getting the wooden treatment; Dean commented on it a couple of times when Gabriel wasn't around, wondering what was up. So it probably wasn't just that Gabriel was pissed at him for blurting out about the wing thing. Probably.
Gabriel disappeared completely for a couple of days: no note, no text, no messages relayed by Cas, no nothing. Sam usually got left a golden feather if Gabriel was going to be away teaching some jerk the error of their ways, but this time there wasn't even that. It was like Gabriel just vanished off the face of the world for two whole days. Sam had started to get worried when he reappeared. Gabriel was still as angel-like as he had been previously; he didn't even say anything to anyone to explain his absence, but his eyes seemed somehow older than before and he clung to Sam with a ferocious desperation that Sam decided that, as much as whatever had happened had clearly hurt Gabriel and he wished he could soothe that away, he probably really didn't want to know what had happened. He was just there for Gabriel, allowing him to hold on to him, touch him, see him, smell him, taste him. Gabriel spent hours upon hours lavishing delicate, reverent attention on Sam, as if he was assuring himself that Sam really was right there with him, but even that didn't change his body language any.
After another couple of days where both angels were more clingy than usual (Gabriel more noticeably than Cas), they decided to take their minds off whatever weirdness had taken place and picked up a case. It was a weird one, even by their standards, Even that was weird even by their standards, and there was very little in the world that Sam and Dean still considered 'weird', let alone the angels. But people were eating each other, and that seemed a touch odd, so they donned the suits and investigated like good hunters. It was almost a relief when Cas solved it pretty much straight away by not only identifying they were after a rogue cupid (which made as much sense as anything else in their lives, given they were pretty much shacking up with a pair of rogue angels themselves), but catching the little bastard too.
The angels seemed to take it personally. At first, Sam assumed that it was because this one seemed hell-bent on random destruction rather than channelling their efforts into something useful (Sam knew that, if questioned, Gabriel would argue vociferously that he didn't destroy randomly at all), but there was something in Gabriel's eyes; a haunted look that suggested something else entirely, but Sam was damned if he could work out what.
"It's not him."
Gabriel sounded so sure, so lost, that it stunned everyone into silence for a moment. The cupid, a large and disturbingly naked man, immediately hugged him so hard Sam would have been worried about Gabriel's ability to breathe if he had actually needed to. As it was, far from being perturbed by the cupid's nudity, Gabriel melted into the embrace just like he had done with any other kind of physical contact for a while. The tension across his shoulders seemed to unbunch, just a little.
And then Castiel ruined it.
"Are you certain?"
Gabriel turned his head and scowled at him. Sam couldn't help a little internal cheer at seeing an actual expression on Gabriel's face. This was progress.
"Of course I'm sure," the archangel snapped. "How can you even ask that after…? Look at him: he's all shiny and pure and he reeks of Heaven. Not a care in the fucking world."
The cupid peered at him curiously, and Sam panicked. Gabriel had spent so long keeping his ass hidden from Heaven: was it all about to come tumbling down because of one stupid case that just happened to have gotten a little, bottom-of-the-Heavenly-ladder cupid involved?
Cas scowled back. "Do not presume that I am indicative of all rogue angels, Loki," he said, sounding so important and imperious that Sam might have bought the cover story about Gabriel's identity himself if he didn't already know the truth. He might have also bought the excuse about hanging around with Cas being the reason Loki would know what rogue angels looked like except that Gabriel had been about to say something important, something that might well explain where he had disappeared off to and what had happened to him during that time.
The cherub sighed as if in dismay, his eyes fixed reproachfully on Castiel for a moment before seeming to shrug it off, his face lighting up again and he gave Gabriel one last squeeze before releasing him.
"Oh, who am I to judge?" he announced cheerfully. "You guys thrive on love, just like we do." He turned to Castiel, his smile wobbling slightly. "Is there something wrong, brother? Can I help?"
Cas hesitated, just a little. Just enough that Dean jumped in.
"The poor schmuck's you're targeting are eating each other," he said, blunt as ever. Sam felt his eyes roll just as the cupid crumpled before them and turn back to Gabriel, who hugged him willingly, and Sam felt a surge of affection at seeing Gabriel taking care of one of his little brothers even when he was so out of sorts himself. It made him wonder what Gabriel had been like back in Heaven, back when everything had been happy. Had Gabriel looked after them all back then too? Had he waded in to sort out petty squabbles between angels? Maybe shown them the wonders of the Earth? Comforted them when they were upset, just like this cupid here? Had he been the one to teach Cas how to fly, just like Dean had taught Sam to walk? That was kind of weird to think about, but it made Gabriel a little more comprehensible to Sam.
"Hey, it's not your fault," Gabriel said gently, glaring at Dean, who shrugged and shifted his feet uncomfortably. "Just, maybe hold off on anyone else on your list for a couple of days, yeah? Until we've got this wrapped up?"
There was a line of tension across the cupid's broad shoulders. "But…"
"You have a quota," Cas stepped in, shocking everyone by resting a hand on the other angel's shoulder. "I understand. However, I am certain your superiors would object to the untimely deaths of your targets, whether it is your touch precipitating these tragedies or not, more than they would you falling behind slightly."
There was a little sniffle and the head came up off of Gabriel's shoulder. "You're right," he said. "I can always come back here in… a week?"
Gabriel gave him a bright smile. "Should be more than enough time to wrap this case up, right boys?"
Sam agreed hastily, and even Dean said yes. They soon regretted being so quick, because the cupid bounced over and hugged them both, happy once again, before disappearing off to pastures new.
"Dude!" Dean exclaimed, elbowing Cas in the ribs the second the cupid vanished. "I didn't know you could lie like that."
Cas shifted uncomfortably. "If any angel were to become aware of Gabriel's presence, we would have the full force of Heaven here within moments. It seemed prudent to mislead Phinehas."
Dean had missed it, then. He hadn't seen the pain Gabriel was in when they had talked about rogue angels, or Castiel's fairly obvious deflection. Sam was sure something had happened to them recently, and that another angel was involved. But now wasn't the time to deal with that thought, because if it wasn't a fallen cherub causing all the problems, then what was it? Gabriel, being a pagan god, probably would have nailed it straight away if it had been another god, or even witch, and Cas was pretty hot about magic too.
Something about this whole place was bothering Sam, and it wasn't just the weird murders and/or suicides. His chicken salad that evening didn't seem to take even just the edge off his hunger, and neither did the piece of cake Gabriel pushed in front of him. Gabriel spent the entire time plastered to his side, even more so than he had been over the last couple of days which, given how weird he had been for the last week or so, probably would have been nice if Sam hadn't been so hungry he really wanted to focus on his food. And, distracting as Gabriel was, nothing was weirder than whatever was going on with Dean and Cas – Dean had practically no appetite at all, whereas Cas was literally stealing the food from his plate, and not just a fry or two either, like Gabriel sometimes did, but the whole freaking burger. He'd done the same with Dean's plate at lunch. Even Gabriel was taken aback by that because, try as they might, Cas had never taken to any American foods until today and had stuck faithfully to the odd takeout meal from Beijing. Gabriel had never quite managed to teach him to taste the way humans did. Dean had a look on his face that suggested he would probably be objecting if he was in any way hungry himself. Sam might have thought they had switched bodies if it wasn't for Castiel's rigid body language, and the fact their speech patterns were both still characteristically their own.
It was a disaster of an evening, all in all. Researching was fairly pointless, and was hampered by the fact that Gabriel was clearly trying to prevent himself from climbing into Sam's lap, and ended up bouncing between all three of them, seemingly desperate for any kind of affection. Dean, after an initial 'what the hell?' moment, was surprisingly willing to reciprocate, grabbing Gabriel occasionally and giving a firm hug, not even grumbling too much when Gabriel just seemed to melt into his chest for a couple of minutes. Castiel was as stiff as a board, looking very uncertain at first when Gabriel came to him, but he took his lead from Dean and soon got into the snuggling and held Gabriel for as long as he wanted. Sam knew that was an angel thing; that they absolutely loved having each other around because angels weren't made to be alone. He could only assume that Castiel's initial hesitance only came from some lingering sense of proprietariness regarding their ranks. It was probably similar to what Sam would feel if he ever needed to comfort Dean: he would do it, and happily (not that he could admit to that, of course), but it was an odd role-reversal and would probably take him a little while to get his head around it.
In the meantime, Dean had pulled his hipflask out three times, seemingly out of habit, looked at it in surprise, and put it away again without taking his customary 'healthy' swig before turning back to his research. Castiel, on the other hand, looked restless whenever he wasn't snuggled with Gabriel. He had that look that suggested he probably would have disappeared some time ago had Gabriel not been there. Had this happened a couple of months ago, before Gabriel, before Dean had opened his eyes and seen what was standing in front of him, he more than likely would have been gone in a heartbeat.
It was all very weird, and probably something to do with whatever was going on. Between all the antics going on around him and the hunger that went beyond his stomach and was beginning to gnaw at his very soul, there was no way Sam was going to get any research done. He didn't have the first clue what to look for, since neither Dean's nor Gabriel's behaviour matched the established pattern. He and Gabriel retired to their own room, and Sam would have tossed and turned fitfully, except that he had an archangel doing a fair impression of an octopus at his side. He probably wouldn't have slept at all if not for said archangel mojoing him asleep, or so Sam suspected.
.oOo.
He awoke with a start in a cold sweat; not with a nightmare about Lucifer (and boy how he was not missing those these days), but with a horrible sense of clarity. He knew exactly what was wrong with him, why he felt so hungry. His heart was pounding in his ears, his mouth as dry as a bone.
At his side lay Gabriel, still touching as much bare skin as possible. And beside him, perched on the side of their king-size, creasing the Egyptian cotton sheets and resting a hand on Gabriel's shoulder, was Castiel, who was casting a much larger shadow than should be feasible in the dim light coming in through the crappy curtains.
"It's famine," Cas said by way of greeting, absolutely typically making no apologies for his presence. Or that of the burger Sam could smell wafting over to him. "He makes us hunger for that which we lack."
Sam, barely awake and desperately trying not to shake like a junkie, couldn't quite work out what Cas meant.
"He means the horseman Famine," Gabriel added helpfully after a moment. "It's not all food with him; it's whatever you hunger for. Seems Cassie's vessel has a thing for beef, probably because he doesn't feed it anywhere near enough. I… I was alone too long, and, well, you…"
"Demon blood," Sam finished. The craving was burning in his veins by now; a sensation Sam had fought hard to be rid of last year and only divine intervention had helped in the end. This is probably what he should have felt like just after he opened up Lucifer's Cage; like he had felt those times Ruby had left him hanging for a few days longer than necessary, just to assert her hold over him.
"Sorry, kiddo," Gabriel said, and he sounded genuinely remorseful. "He's got some hella-strong mojo: I can't zap this out of you. We'll get to work on it in the morning. Cas keeps going off to do 'recon'," (Sam could hear the air quotes, they were that strong) "but it's tricky at night, and he somehow keeps finding twenty-four hour burger joints."
"And then there is the fact that you keep calling me back," Cas pointed out peevishly. His voice was somewhat muffled around what Sam suspected was a mouthful of burger. There were very few other things likely to ever be found in Castiel's mouth, and Sam really, really didn't want to go there. Ever. Also, none of those other things were in the room right now.
Gabriel coaxed him back into a comfortable sleeping position and cuddled him tightly.
"Will you be mad if I zap you back to sleep?" he asked Sam's chest, his voice slightly unclear.
Sam shrugged. "Probably won't sleep if you don't," he was forced to admit. "Especially with Cas staring at me."
There was a snort of warm air that tickled across his chest as Gabriel laughed. "Don't mind Cas."
Sam opened his mouth to say something, and…
… The sun was rising when he next woke up, feeling like hell and knowing his hands were shaking badly. Gabriel had moved so that he was now sat cross-legged, with his legs and hands still touching Sam, and with Castiel's hands doing deft things in the space behind him; space Sam could only assume was occupied by Gabriel's wings. It still ached that he couldn't see them any more, but it was nice to see Gabriel's getting a bit of attention from someone. Gabriel himself was back to being unreadable, doing a remarkable impression of a statue, sitting as he was with his eyes closed, completely motionless, but Cas… Cas was actually a myriad of expressions right now. He looked like he could have been enjoying his task if not for that irritated little scowl occasionally as his hands suddenly moved close together to work on one specific spot, or the fact that he was clearly jonesing for another burger.
"Gabriel is concentrating on my actions," Castiel said gently, his eyes alighting on Sam. "This is something we have been neglecting for some time in favour of more important pursuits."
It was okay, it really was: they weren't human, and they needed each other. It didn't change anything about how Gabriel felt about him, or Cas about Dean. It was just a thing that the angels needed to do, just part of their lives. Just like…
Sam threw himself out of the bed and stumbled into the bathroom on unsteady, coltish legs. He pretended not to hear Gabriel's pained gasp as he broke contact with the archangel.
He was being unreasonable, he knew. He had known going into this… whatever it was, that there was much more than he could ever hope to understand to Gabriel, and he really couldn't hold that against him. Gabriel had gone to such great lengths to make sure Sam knew what he was getting into. He had even gone so far as to make sure Sam was making his own decisions, uninfluenced by Gabriel's grace or any residual magic left over from the spell that had temporarily given Sam and Dean the ability to see the angels' wings.
No, Sam knew this current uncharitabilty towards Gabriel came down to jealousy, pure and simple. Gabriel was craving something easily given: something Sam would be more than happy to help out with at any other time, but right now his blood was pounding in his ears, demanding the demonic element that made it stronger, made him stronger, and the fact that they needed to hunt the son of a bitch causing this madness in the first place.
He looked up into the mirror and almost recoiled: Sam barely recognised his own reflection: his eyes were sunken and red-rimmed; his face pale and waxy. He looked every bit the junkie he felt he still was, despite having been clean for months after his supernatural detox.
No, he was stronger than this. He could still work, still function. He had functioned with this addiction for a year before the apocalypse had started; a couple of days now was nothing. He just needed to carry on like things were not going to shit and it would all be fine.
.oOo.
He felt a little more human by the time he had showered and shaved; human enough to go and apologise to Gabriel for being a shit and abandoning him. As it turned out, though, Dean had arrived and clearly been put on cuddle duty while Cas got breakfast.
"So, what're you desperate for, Deano?" Gabriel was asking into Dean's shoulder as Sam emerged from the bathroom.
Dean thought for a moment, and Sam's mind flashed back through the previous day: the discarded burgers pounced upon by Castiel without complaint, the unopened hipflask, the fact that Cas seemed to have spent most of the night in their room instead of Dean's, having unspeakable things done to him.
Dean shrugged after apparently considering the question too. "Nothing," he admitted finally. "I got nothing."
After a moment: "Am I broken?"
Gabriel draped himself even more across Dean, which Dean seemed to appreciate.
"No, kid, you're not. Maybe you've just got it right – you don't deny yourself shit like we do."
Dean looked down at the top of Gabriel's golden head incredulously. "You saying I'm well-adjusted?"
Gabriel laughed. "Fuck no. Think about it. C'mere, Sambo."
Without glancing over, he reached out for Sam without any apparent trepidation, with no expectation of denial. Something dark in Sam's head wanted to deny him, wanted Gabriel to feel the same burning emptiness hollowing him out from the inside that Sam was feeling, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Not when being wrapped up in Gabriel last night had offered some measure of distraction. So Sam slid himself onto the bed beside Gabriel, who, to Dean's exasperation, didn't abandon his current snuggle-buddy, oh no – Gabriel pulled Sam close and draped his torso over Sam's lap while leaving his legs trailing over Dean's knees. There was a single glare of 'tell anyone and you're dead' before Dean resigned himself to his fate in continuing to act as an archangel's security blanket for the morning.
"If I'm hungry, I eat whatever I feel like," Dean said slowly, answering Gabriel's challenge. "If I want a drink, I go drink. If I want sex, Cas is on speed dial."
"Exactly," Gabriel said, grinning up at him from his new position. "That's not well-adjusted, just well fed. Speaking of…"
Cas appeared, bearing bags from the local burger joint, predictably. He seemed completely unperturbed by the cuddling arrangements and promptly sat himself between Sam and Dean's outstretched legs, close to Gabriel but not touching in any way that Sam could see.
"Hey, how come you're not being molested by Mr. Snuggleupagus here?" Dean grumbled half-heartedly as he accepted a paper bag that smelled strongly of bacon.
"Who says he's not?" Gabriel countered, sounding somewhere close to cheerful. "Shut up and eat your breakfast."
A huge, dark shadow spread out across Sam's legs and curved up around Cas in one direction, and slouched over Sam's shoulder in the other. A glance confirmed that the dark spectre of feathers spanned out across Dean's shoulders too and curved around him. A blink and they were gone, but that brief glance was kind of nice. The sleek feathers meant that Gabriel wasn't necessarily altogether happy, but that might just be because Gabriel was being forced into this level of affection rather than choosing it. The fact that Gabriel was relaxed enough to show them at all spoke volumes, and when Sam looked down again, there was something hopeful in Gabriel's eyes, and an almost shy smile on his face. Sam didn't say anything, not in front of their brothers, but he squeezed Gabriel's shoulder affectionately. He had planned to leave his hand there, but Cas shoved a fruit salad in a cup at him, and his hands suddenly got otherwise occupied with the necessity of feeding his body, even if it wasn't entirely what he wanted. Gabriel didn't seem to mind Cas' comfort-blocking, though – he took one look at the sad, floppy takeout pancakes Cas had bought him and cheerfully transformed them and their polystyrene container into something much more pleasing – steaming hot, fluffy pancakes on an actual plate. The only thing that seemed to stay the same was the artificial-looking maple syrup that was probably way sweeter than true maple had any right to be.
Sam tried and failed to suppress the shudder that seeing Gabriel with maple pancakes brought forward. He really did try, because he had long-since forgiven Gabriel for his misguided mission at the Mystery Spot and rarely had nightmares about it any more (those had been supplanted by nightmares of Dean being ripped apart by hellhounds only a few weeks later), but just occasionally something would give him a flashback to those horrendous months he still remembered living. Just three things really triggered it these days – the song, and Dean had thrown his Asia cassette away after the one and only time he had played it and sent Sam into a panic attack; pigs in pokes (something Dean avoided these days); and maple syrup pancakes. Those were less easy to avoid, and Sam had thought he had kicked that particular trigger a long time ago (actually, Ruby had been really helpful there – she had ordered them constantly for a month to desensitise him), but there was something about seeing Gabriel specifically with them that started him off this time.
"Sam?"
It was Dean who spoke, but Cas was eyeing him with concern too, the burger dropped back onto its paper; and Gabriel was half-sat up, and eyeing the plate on his stomach with growing horror.
"I'm fine," Sam said shortly. He carefully counted his breathing, forcing himself to breathe in slowly and carefully, and let the air back out the same way.
"Bullshit," Gabriel said, sounding shaky himself. Sam forced himself to look at the archangel, and noticed that the plate was gone. "Is… Do you want me to go?"
Sam considered this: it often did help to get away from the source, but he didn't want to push Gabriel away, and if he did then Gabriel would spend the time blaming himself. It wouldn't do anyone any good in the long run.
"No," he said carefully. "Please, don't."
The blood was pounding in his ears, and he couldn't tell if it was the addiction or the panic attack or both. The room seemed to fade to nothingness, and the only thing that was important was that he just kept breathing: in for three seconds, hold for three seconds, out for three seconds; repeat. As long as he could keep breathing properly, everything else would come back in time.
.oOo.
"Sammy."
The voice was gentle but insistent, filtering its way through the white noise and the relentless drumbeat that filled his head and threatened to explode outwards.
"Come on, Sam; you're better than this."
The voice was right: he was better than this. He had survived Dean's death, over and over and over, and even when Dean had died for real, he had coped. Okay, so he hadn't exactly coped well, but he had coped. He had survived, because that was what he did.
"That's it, Sammy. You keep on fighting. Keep on saying 'no' to losing control."
That seemed sensible. No-one could take away control of his body without his permission. Not even the Devil himself could do that, let alone a crummy runaway angel playing at being Pagan.
Said crummy archangel was a warm weight across his thighs, his eyes clouded with worry as he studied Sam carefully. His hands were either side of Sam's head, fingers threaded into Sam's hair desperately; not tight enough that it would cause Sam any discomfort, but enough that they were definitely there. There were definitely worse things to see and feel when the world came back, Sam knew from far too much experience.
"There you are," Gabriel said, his voice shaking and his shoulders sagging with relief. "I am so sorry. I didn't even think. Does that happen a lot?"
Sam shook his head gently. "Not any more."
It was completely the wrong thing to say: Gabriel froze, his expression falling back into 'angel mode'. His hands dropped suddenly to his sides
"Then it was me, not the pancakes."
Sam caught hold of his wrists before he could do a Cas-like disappearing act. Not that Sam thought for an instant he could keep Gabriel there if the angel really wanted to leave, but he hoped the message would get through.
"I have let you restrain me," Sam pointed out. "Hell, I asked you to restrain me. I have begged you to fuck me. Believe me, I forgave you. I trust you."
Gabriel looked down at his hands, which was a human enough behaviour to reassure Sam somewhat: it meant that Gabriel wasn't hiding himself completely away again.
"I don't deserve you to," he said softly. "Because I don't think I could do it either – I'd rather have my brother imprisoned for all eternity than have to let him…"
Gabriel's head came up slowly, his eyes gleaming with excitement as some thought clearly dawned on him.
"Oh. Oh!"
Cas and Dean appeared, startling Sam who hadn't even noticed that they had clearly disappeared during his panic attack. After Dean was convinced he was going to be okay, he assumed, because there was no way Dean would have left if he wasn't sure; especially leaving him with Gabriel.
"Do you think it will work?" Cas asked, clearly excited in his customarily very controlled way.
Gabriel nodded and grinned at Sam properly for the first time in ages, kissed him soundly to Dean's objection, and then turned to acknowledge their brothers.
"Sam reminded me of something Daddy told me just after Mikey slammed the door on the Cage. Something I don't think He ever told Mikey or Raph. A way we can end this."
Castiel rolled his eyes. "What Gabriel should be saying is apparently there is a secondary way to open Lucifer's Cage, using the rings of the Four Horsemen."
Dean blinked and dug his hand into his pocket.
"You mean like this one?"
Gabriel's eyes bugged out as Dean produced a seemingly inconspicuous plain gold ring.
"For real?" He made a grabby motion with his hand and Dean passed it to him somewhat reluctantly.
"Well, you boys are just full of surprises, aren't you?" Gabriel sounded genuinely impressed. "Sometime, you're going to need to tell me the stuff I haven't seen from the prophet yet, but right now…"
He blinked and broke off as Castiel lifted the ring out of his hand. The slightly maniacal gleam that had been growing in his eyes faded.
"I think Dean should continue to protect this," Cas said blandly, handing it back without hesitation. "The rings were not meant for us, brother."
Gabriel nodded somewhat dazedly. "Yeah. Okay. Guess there's no chance you've got Pestilence's too?"
Sam shook his head. "Just War's. We ran into him a while back. We can get to Pestilence later: what about Famine?"
"Find out where he's holed up and chop his finger off too," Dean said, sounding very sure of himself. And Sam supposed it was easier for him since he wasn't dealing with any distracting urges. That seemed like a pretty tall order to Sam. But then again, Dean had always seen the world that simply anyway. It was what made him a good hunter.
"Good idea," Gabriel said. "Darling Luci has probably sent a whole load of demons to help Famine, 'cause he's kind of useless on his own – I mean, can't even wipe his own ass kind of useless – so we can track them easy enough."
Something in Sam sat up and paid attention at that, desperately wanting to be in on this plan.
"Sammy…" Dean sounded wary now, and he probably had every right to. "Can you hold it together?"
"Yeah." Because he had to. They needed to do this, not just to help the people of this town, but because they needed this in order to save the whole world from their screw-up.
.oOo.
A run-in with two demons later, and Sam had to concede defeat; it had been too close. Gabriel had been almost playing with one, trying to get information from it before getting his smite on, certain that Sam could handle the second. His confidence in Sam had been somewhat misplaced, because while Sam had no trouble at all overpowering the demon, its meat-suit half his size, the second he nicked it with the blade he was lost to the sharp, tangy scent of her blood. He had wasted precious seconds just staring at the ruby droplets on the blade, his breathing too fast and the need thundering through his head, screaming in his ears like the roar of a thousand Impalas. He had just dipped his head to suckle from the wound, just like he used to do with Ruby, when she screamed. A bright white light shone from her eyes and mouth as she burned up. Gabriel's hand was on the back of her head, his eyes like fire as he caught Sam's eyes and held them.
Without saying a word, Gabriel flew them back to the motel, grabbed the knife and threw it into the wall where it stayed, quivering. Later, Sam would realise how restrained Gabriel had been – it could easily have been through the wall, and probably the next too.
Sam found himself flat on his back on the bed, with the angel straddling his hips before he could blink again. He shoved urgently, insistently, determined to get back out there and find what he needed, but Gabriel wouldn't be budged. Sam heard himself snarl in wordless frustration as he found himself thwarted.
Gabriel shoved him down, strong hands on his shoulders forced him to lie back.
"You said you had it," he growled. "You said you could hold it together."
"Like you have?" Sam spat. "You couldn't wait to get your hands on me again."
That might have been a touch unfair, since Gabriel had been on his best, albeit slightly terrifying, behaviour on the hunt. He had kept himself to himself (all the parts Sam could see, anyway) and done the job. But Sam wasn't anywhere near the mood to forgive, and continued to struggle against Gabriel's firm restraint.
There was a click of Gabriel's fingers, and Sam's wrists were abruptly cuffed to the newly-metal bedstead and Gabriel was sitting back. Sam choked off the moan that escaped him as the movement rubbed up against his treacherous dick that had decided this was exactly his kind of thing and that he should be begging for Gabriel's cock right about now.
"Sorry, Sammy," Gabriel said, easing up the pressure. He sounded genuinely remorseful. "Angry sex sounds like an awesome idea, but you're not in your right mind; you can't consent . And I reckon our brothers need help right about now."
He slid gently from the bed, and through the red haze of his vision, Sam could see the effort, the restraint that simple move had taken.
"Stay safe, Sammy. I'll be back soon."
He pressed a gentle kiss to Sam's forehead and vanished. Sam struggled against his restraints, but only succeeded in bruising his wrists against the cuffs. The bed didn't shift so much as an inch across the floor, and Sam came to the conclusion that Gabriel had bolted it down. It seemed like a sensible thing to have done and, as the immediacy of the blood lust faded with no-one there to rally against and Sam slumped into the welcoming mattress, he could appreciate exactly what Gabriel had done for him. Far from wanting to torture Sam, this was something done for his own good. It was something Sam would have asked for had he been thinking clearly enough. Hopefully, with the three of them on this, it would all be over soon and Gabriel could come back to finish what he had unwittingly started.
In the meantime, Sam tried not to think about what he had looked like, perched over Sam, eyes blazing with righteous fury, his power threatening to spill out. He had looked like the avenging archangel he should always have been, and goddammit, did Sam want a piece of that.
.oOo.
The demons found him before Gabriel did. They both looked like Christmas had come early when they burst through the locked door and found him bound to the bed, their eyes lighting up with glee as they took in the scene. The one with the male meat-suit eyed his groin hungrily, and Sam was very conscious of the fact that he was still half-hard.
"Shame the boss wants you right now," he purred in Sam's ear as he grabbed the cuff restraining his right hand. "I'd love to have tried that out while you're all helpless and desperate."
Rather than searching for a key that didn't exist, they each snapped one set of cuffs using a supernatural strength Gabriel clearly hadn't thought to account for when he created them. With the use of his arms back, Sam shoved the guy hard and he flew back into the wall. The woman put up more of a fight, and they ended up falling together onto the glass coffee table with her underneath him. It cushioned the blow for Sam, and left her bleeding from somewhere Sam couldn't see but he certainly could smell and it set the hunger singing through his veins once again, its clamour drowning out anything else; any ounce of common sense that would have told him this was a really bad thing. With a trembling hand, he picked up a large fragment of the shattered table top and sliced a deep cut in the hollow of her throat. Blood welled up and he pressed his mouth to the wound before any could be lost.
The rich, thick flavour burst across his tongue as he sucked greedily, groaning as the power flowed from it into him, strengthening him and awakening his power once more. The male demon rushed him and he flung it back without a second thought. He would deal with it soon enough.
The woman struggled weakly under him as he drained her dry; she wasn't nearly enough to satisfy the need and he put her out of her misery with a mere thought as he turned on the man, who looked terrified now that the tables were turned. He backed up across the floor until the bed was at his back. He was completely at Sam's mercy.
.oOo.
It was easy enough to find the others by following his nose: he could smell the stink of the demons from across town. Famine wasn't making it difficult, but then again, the demons had said that Famine wanted him, probably to hand over to Lucifer. He was getting heartily sick of Hell's attention, if he was honest: Lucifer could bite him. Hell would have to freeze over before Sam would give himself up to anyone.
When he got to the Big Gerson's, the strike team were embarrassing themselves somewhat. Everyone had cracked, Sam included: Castiel was on the floor under a table, eating what looked like raw burger meat with his bare hands; Gabriel was curled around him, clinging desperately even though he looked ashamed of himself as he did it; Dean was in the best shape, but he looked rattled by the whole situation. Given that he was surrounded by a multitude of demons and a Horseman of the Apocalypse, that was understandable. Sam's appearance probably wasn't helping, since he was aware that he hadn't taken any time to clean the blood from his face. It was probably very obvious what had happened back at the motel, especially as Famine was making such a big deal about it. Sam had considered that he had probably intended Sam to feed from them on the way over, but it didn't matter in the long run. As a result of Famine's 'gift', Sam had the strength to defeat Famine. They knew he fed on souls, and Gabriel had been fairly certain that demon souls would feed Famine's hunger just as well as human. So, when Sam's willpower won out and he refused the rest of the demons – something he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to come back from – he was counting on Famine consuming them himself and giving Sam the ability to use the demon souls to rip Famine apart.
He was glad it all worked, because Sam wasn't the best strategist in the world (he much preferred leaving that to Dean and Cas, thanks), and he was off his face on demon blood. But it had all come together and culminated in another incapacitated Horseman. Instantly, the angels came back to their senses: Cas was at Dean's side, making sure he was okay and Gabriel was at Sam's, trying to glare at him but there was far too much underlying concern for it to be effective.
"Help me?" Sam begged, first of Gabriel, then of Dean and Cas too. They all nodded their agreement, knowing this was going to be a long, hard road for Sam. They had two more Horsemen to track down, but they would do it as a team.
.oOo.
Sam's eyes opened slowly and reluctantly, and he quickly realised that time had passed. Gabriel blinked a few times and the iron hold he had on Sam seemed to relax, as if Gabriel was settling back into his skin properly.
"Welcome back," he said softly, bending to press a kiss to Sam's forehead.
"Hey," Sam croaked. His throat felt dry and raw, as if he had been screaming. He realised wryly that he probably had, if the previous withdrawal was anything to go by. Gabriel blinked and with a gentle brush of his fingers, the pain was gone.
Out of habit, Sam took stock of the situation: they were holed up somewhere he didn't recognise, but by the looks of things was probably an apartment. It was tastefully and minimally decorated, with soft white walls and plain wooden furniture. They were lying on navy sheets that were softer than sheets had any right to be, but that seemed to be common whenever Gabriel was around. He was lying across Gabriel's lap, which was absolutely fine, and he didn't feel disgusting and sweaty and wrung out like he knew from bitter experience of withdrawal that he should be.
"Don't ever make me have to help you through that again," Gabriel said, making Sam look more closely at him. He sounded tired, and Sam realised with a shock that he had seemed that way for quite some time now: it wasn't just as a result of helping out with Sam's rehab.
"Gabriel, what happened a couple of weeks back?"
This was probably his best chance to ask, while they were both unguarded and kind of flush with their victory over Famine. But Cas and Dean chose that moment to spill through the door, just as Sam was halfway through voicing the question.
Instead of some wise-ass remark, Dean glanced at Castiel, whose expression flickered minutely to 'resigned', if Sam had to put a name to it. Cas perched somewhat awkwardly at the foot of the bed, and promptly got shoved into something more natural by Dean before he sat down right beside Cas and pulled the angel into his side. It was sweet and domestic and Dean would probably maim Sam horribly if it was ever spoken about.
"Our sister Anna was…" He glanced at Gabriel, who sounded very unhappy when he supplied the word:
"Brainwashed."
"Thank you, Gabriel," Cas continued as if him stumbling with English and having to ask for a translation was a common thing. "She was brainwashed, probably much the same way as I was six months ago, and allowed to believe she had escaped from Heaven."
"We have a difference of opinion here," Gabriel interjected. "I think she genuinely did escape. Mikey wouldn't have signed off on what she did."
"Wait – Anna was caught? Heaven got her?"
Cas shifted uncomfortably, and Sam realised that he had been instrumental in Anna's capture. It had probably happened just after his own brainwashing by Heaven. Dean's arm squeezed Cas' shoulders: it seemed he had realised the same thing.
"So, Anna escaped from the House of Dicks and…?"
"She was no longer herself." Castiel's voice was bland enough, but somehow he sounded like he was trying to give a reason what he was about to relate, so that they wouldn't think badly of Anna. "I assume you recall my behaviour, after only a day?"
"And they had her six months," Dean said. "We're with you, Cas. I've been there too, remember?"
That was new: they didn't really talk about what had happened to Castiel. Sam understood that he had probably been tortured, but none of them ever explicitly said so. Just like they didn't talk about Dean's time in Hell and what he had endured. But in breaking the unspoken rule, Dean had done something good: not only did Cas seem to relax a little now he knew they all understood each other, and that Dean truly did understand (for both him and Anna), but Gabriel also looked more thoughtful.
"Yeah, she wasn't okay," Gabriel said carefully. "The Anael I knew wouldn't have…"
He trailed off and clutched at Sam. This was really big if Gabriel couldn't even say it.
"Anna had determined that the logical way to stop Lucifer without taking him on head-to-head, which would be suicidal, was to kill Sam," Cas said, once again with that careful placidity. "She was not able to get close because of Gabriel's presence here, so she travelled back in time and…" Even Cas broke off here, and Sam suddenly had a horrible feeling that he knew what Cas was going to say. The realisation hit him like a bucket of cold water.
"She killed Mom before I was born," he suggested, deliberately not looking at anyone.
"Yeah," Gabriel said shakily. "Her and your dad, back in seventy-eight."
Seventy-eight? But that meant… He looked up sharply at Dean and Cas. Cas was leaning into Dean more than earlier, and had snaked his arms around Dean's waist so that he was holding on tightly, kind of like Gabriel had been doing when he was under Famine's influence.
"We watched as you both disappeared," Cas said, "as you were never born and time rewrote itself around you. It was harder on Gabriel – he retains more knowledge of altered timelines than I do because of his rank – and he flew back to rectify Anna's… misdeeds."
His voice was still reasonably steady, but his eyes were not: he had that desperate look about him that they only normally saw when he was in big trouble and on the run. Or when Dean was doing something really stupid and suicidal.
"And…?" Dean prompted after a moment's silence. He was gentle about it, as gentle as he would be with a grieving widow or the kid of a vic.
"And we wouldn't be having this conversation if I'd failed," Gabriel snapped. It was more defensive than angry, which told Sam enough to work out what had gone down, that the inevitable had happened. Gabriel had done what he had vowed never to do and killed one of his siblings, and he had done it to protect Sam and Dean. He had killed an angel to protect two humans. And Sam kind of thought that Anna might have had a point – Sam's death (or non-existence) would put a massive kink in Lucifer's plans to annihilate the world. Suddenly, Sam felt like he didn't really need to see Gabriel's wings quite so much any more to know that the archangel cared for him. That Gabriel would do something that enormous for him was… it was amazing and wonderful and terrifying and how could Sam ever begin to thank Gabriel for what he had done for him? And how could he ever doubt how Gabriel felt about him after something like that?