Dean visibly clenched his teeth at the name, whilst Castiel's head rose a little. So many questions ran through Sam's head - why, how and what the hell being a few to name – but those could be asked later. Right now, in his arms, was an archangel who'd he thought dead, and might well end up that way again soon.
Sam's gaze lingered on Gabriel's chest a moment longer than he should have; concerned by the way it rose and fell in short intervals, erratic and completely uncalculated. Then again, there wasn't much about Gabriel that didn't worry him at the moment.
He hadn't even noticed as his feet carried him out of the damned room, running down the corridors, hadn't noticed until the cold air hit him, pushing the loose strands of hair out of his face. He wasn't sure why he was running either, whether he was running from something or to something, or just running, because that's what you were meant to do when something felt urgent, right?
It was in his moment of hesitation that Cas and Dean, well, Dean holding Cas caught up. Apparently, the elder hunter had decided Castiel couldn't move fast enough in his previous state, hobbling along, and now held him in a bridal position, rather similar to how Sam held Gabriel. He rolled his eyes at how oblivious Dean and Castiel really were, despite the fact that Dean was practically pressing the angel haunts himself. Sam never realised he was being a hypocrite.
"What?" Dean protested, "You hold your angel how you want, and I'll hold mine how I want!" Had it been any other time, Sam would've commented on Dean's use of a possessive pronoun when referring to Castiel, which would've resulted in Dean blushing slightly, trying - and failing - to correct himself, and Castiel cocking his head to the side, an action he appeared to use in conjunction with most any emotion he felt. But right now, it wasn't any other time.
"Where do we even go?! I have no idea how to care for an angel, much less an archangel!" Cas looked between the Winchesters rather curiously, with a 'You're like a stupid puppy face. You're incredibly adorable, and yet you don't seem to be able to understand anything or think for yourself' look.
"Somewhere… safe… Away from… All danger…" Castiel forced out between strained breaths. It was only a recent thing, this irritating necessity known as breathing. Cas knew it was just another marker on his way to being a fully-fledged fallen angel. Not the most exciting of prospects, if he was honest.
Sam turned to Dean, and if Castiel hadn't have known better, he would've said they were communicating telepathically, as all it took was a look and Dean nodded, hauling the angel off into the Impala and dumping him into the front passenger seat.
"Do ya idjits even know what time of the morning it is?" Bobby groaned into the phone, glancing over at his clock which read just past eleven. At night. "This better be good." He rubbed his eyes and yawned, preparing himself for whatever half-assed excuse the boys could throw at him. Not that he wasn't grateful to hear from them, he cared about them like sons, but eleven at night. Was it too much to ask for them to call at a normal time, when he wasn't trying to sleep?
"We need somewhere safe to crash, Bobby, and, uh, we were wondering, if you'd have us for a bit, if you got the space." Bobby narrowed his eyes as Dean stumbled slightly with his words. He hadn't managed to survive in the hunting business this long for no reason; he knew when something was up, or more specifically, something was being withheld from him.
"Who exactly is 'we', boy?"
He heard someone, probably Dean, shouting Sam, and some muttering in the background, until finally: "Hey, Bobby."
"So, who is 'we'?" There was a brief pause and Bobby rolled his eyes, deciding that the Winchesters were just as hard to get information off as demons were, John Winchester included.
"Uh, you know, me, Dean, Cas and some company…" It came across as more of a question than a statement, Sam's voice rising towards the end, and Bobby could see Sam rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke, something the kid did when he didn't want to tell someone something.
"You ain't allowed in until you tell me what you're hiding, boy." He heard a groan over the line, and sighed.
"You remember a while back, the Trickster case, when you helped us? Well, um, long story short, the Trickster we met, he was actually an angel. Well, not quite an angel, an archangel. And then he died, a few months back, and he appears to be dying again whilst sprawled on top of me." Sam inhaled quickly after his rushed monologue, not even sure what compelled him to talk so quickly.
"An archangel… Last ya told me they were all dicks. You sure about this?"
"I'm sure." The older hunter could've swore he heard Sam's voice tremble, but he didn't bring it up. The kid was sensitive, and he knew better than to go charging head first at his issues.
"Where are ya?"
"Worthington, Wisconsin. We're about an hour away from you, Bobby."
Bobby lowered the phone a moment, glancing downwards and cursing himself inwardly before lifting it back to his ear. "Fine. You mark my words though. You idjits are going to be the death of me."
He put the phone down before he could regret his decision, and spun the wheelchair round, determined to get the house at least slightly acceptable. One does not simply care for an archangel of the lord in a messy house.
Sam glanced at his phone before stuffing it back into his pocket, eyes finding their way to the bundle on top of him. His free hand was entangled within Gabriel's hair – purely to comfort the archangel, as he kept tossing and moaning in his unconsciousness – massaging slightly. He felt a pressure against his body where Sam guessed Gabriel's wings were, but didn't make any attempts to move out of fear it would make the archangel uncomfortable.
Castiel's breathing had evened out, and he could string together coherent sentences again, but the colour was drained from his face, and the angel was exhausted, which was rather worrying considering angel's shouldn't need sleep. It meant Cas was almost fallen now, almost human. Neither Sam nor Dean wanted to find out how that would affect the angel psychologically. One issue to tackle at a time.
Dean had kept his head forward for most of the drive, focused on the road, apart from the glances he stole at his angel. He could play the 'uncaring, tough guy' persona as much as he liked, Dean knew he wasn't fooling anyone, certainly not himself. To someone who'd simply walked past him on the street, he'd appear rather macho, but the more that someone got to know Dean, the more they'd realise he's actually the complete opposite, he's incredibly emotional, he just hides them under years of building facades.
He glanced in the rear view mirror, watching his brother tear his own t-shirt to strips to bandage up the cuts and gashes decorating Gabriel's chest, tying them with a little too much experience for someone who wasn't in the medical profession. For such large hands, Dean knows he's impossibly gentle when it comes to dressing and stitching wounds, but he's not sure even his brother's soft touch will be enough later.
Sam tried to clean what he could with the limited resources he had, dried blood still speckled across most every visible body part, like someone flicked it. It's already apparent that they can't rely on angel mojo from either Cas or Gabe, then shrugged off his own jacket, wrapping it around the smaller man, covering one torso and exposing another. His hand finds its way back into Gabriel's hair, his other hand applying pressure on the worst of the wounds.
The younger Winchester couldn't stop his eyes roaming, and his stomach twisting in response. From the broken skin caused by the chain around his neck, and used for god knows what, to the stab wounds, the gashes, the bruises and the broken bones, he knew it would be a task getting through to the archangel, and even more of a task on helping him through it, through the mental trauma. He didn't even want to imagine what Cas saw, as judging by the angel's reaction, it wasn't good. His tongue had other ideas though.
"Cas, how bad is he? I mean, like, the whole angel thing we can't see?" Castiel twisted in his seat to face Sam, glancing between his brother and the hunter.
"Is this a time where you would rather me humour you, or tell you the truth?" He asked, head tilted slightly.
"Truth please, Cas." The angel grimaced, and Sam prepared himself, not noticing his arm wrap around the archangel.
"As you would put it, very not good. The wounds were created by an angel blade: not enough to kill him, obviously, but enough to cause his grace to bleed out. That is why I felt something was wrong – Gabriel's grace had, in a way, contaminated the air. His wings are, worse than very not good. Each one is broken in some way, most having been pierced by the blade. His dominant pair of wings are worst. The brackets I released were etched with Enochian, preventing him from releasing them himself. They… they clamped around his wings, tearing through the wing membrane and breaking the bone in numerous places. The end feathers are singed black, they were pulled outside the holy fire. I can only imagine the agony that caused." Dean's foot pressed down on the accelerator, his teeth clenched. Sure, he didn't like the archangel, but no-one deserved torture. He could speak from personal experience, having been on both sides of instruments of pain. Sam gaped slightly, before shutting his mouth, his lips squeezing together, nostrils flaring.
"You mean, an angel did this? An angel tortured another angel?! How the hell was he even caught in the first place? I though archangels were Heaven's deadly weapons." Cas offered his best sympathetic smile towards Sam, who pulled Gabriel into his chest, prompting a moan to fall from his lips.
"Yes, yes, and I'm not sure myself."
Sam would've replied, had the angel in his arms not began to twist and turn. He watched, stroking a hand through Gabriel's hair and murmuring variations of "You're safe now." A breeze began to circulate the Impala, escalating into what Sam would've described as a gale, and he could only picture the cause to be Gabriel's wings thrashing in a frightened panic. He tried to hold the archangel still, who had begun to convulse and lash out, arching his back, to stop him from hurting himself, when a hand wrapped around Sam's wrist, squeezing tight.
"Hey, hey, it's alright Gabriel, you're safe. You're safe now, okay?" The archangel's breathing picked up, his chest rising and falling faster than normal. His legs kicked out, and the Messenger cried out in pain as he twisted onto his side. Sam wrapped both arms around Gabriel, pulling him up in an attempt to stop him from hurting himself again. His eyelids parted, wide and wild like a deer caught in car lights, and he tried to fight back again, until his frightened eyes caught Sam's. Gabriel's lips parted slightly, and his breathing calmed as he did nothing but look at Sam. The younger Winchester didn't move, just looked him in the eyes – damn those golden eyes – until he was certain Gabriel wasn't a threat to himself any longer. The hunter released his grip on the archangel, who didn't try to move off of the younger hunter, relaxing against him, seemingly becoming one from what Dean saw in the mirror.
"Sam?" It was just one word, one syllable, and yet it carried more emotion than Sam had ever seen expressed from Gabriel before. It wasn't false, and it wasn't exaggerated. It was pure, raw emotion. It was panicked, as if he thought Sam was simply a hallucination, a form of psychological torment, and it was hopeful, desperate for Sam to be real. Sadness laced the word, pain running rife on it, and yet not a single undertone of the playful voice Sam had grown to associate with the Archangel-turned-Trickster-turned-Archangel was there, and it was terrifying to hear the usually cheeky voice completely devoid of happiness.
"It's okay Gabriel. You're safe now. I've got you. I promise I won't let anything hurt you." Sam wasn't entirely sure where the words came from, but they felt genuine, and so he couldn't care where he'd found them. He cradled the archangel, hugging him tight, and Gabriel slumped onto his shoulder, a single tear falling down his cheek. Sam knew it wasn't his place to ask what happened, not yet, and he felt for the archangel. To see the Messenger, usually cocky and full of joy with at least one lollipop wedged between lips, as a broken mess in his arms was something Sam never wanted to see. It hurt.
"I guess this means you're my knight in shining armour," he chuckled weakly, pushing himself away so he came face to face with Sam. "So kiddo," Gabriel's voice wavered slightly on the nickname, "do I get a kiss then?" The words of the Trickster were there, but that was all, and he let himself fall against the hunter's shoulder again as hands rubbed his back. Sam knew it was going to be a long time before Gabriel was more than a shadow of who he used to be.
A/N
Thank you to all the reviewers, the people who added to alert and the people who favourited. I really do appreciate it guys :) Please leave a comment/review on what you though of this chapter as well. And who else is excited for tonight? Whoo, I can't wait :)
