Sam had built quite the reputation.
He fought with precision and perfect balance, something he naturally had that for another would have taken a long time to perfect. His reflexes were fast and he adjusted to his wings - which were clearly not a part of his previous form - quickly. His two angel blades - not uncommon for many warriors within the Garrison - gleamed gold and silver respectively, carved intricately with sigils and words in a foreign tongue, and every movement he made with the weapons was purely natural.
He managed to coax out his war down when he was fighting with Raphael, the feathers hardening and sharpening, gleaming with deadly power. The obsidian expanses, tips dipped in gleaming silver, somehow darkened and displayed a malevolent, hypnotic beauty that distracted Raphael immediately. He found great pleasure in batting the other archangels over the heads with the hard armor-like down when they were in the middle of something - training fledglings, when speaking to other angels, when issuing orders. More often than not this resulted in a round of chase with at least half the angels in heaven.
The new archangel didn't exactly talk about it, but he had a sharp mind - he was rather intelligent, caught everything and reacted appropriately to it. Though he hadn't spoken a single word throughout the years that he'd been spending with the brothers, he managed to hold entire conversations with a combination of expressions, gestures and shifts in his Grace. Sam only communicated using words when he reached out with his Grace, and that was only on rare occasions. He often accompanied the other archangels when they were fulfilling their duties, and as the archangel of Will (the symbol that represented it was carved between his wings like every other angel) he was slowly adjusting to his own duties, which he was happy to note were not quite as numerous as the others.
Gabriel had learned long ago that Sam had a rather mischievous side to him. He took great pleasure in helping Gabriel trick his brothers, and had a way of conveying his quiet amusement while being completely serious about any situation. When he discovered his minor domains, the fact that brotherhood and family were in there seemed to amuse him to no end, and it was easy to tell when he was thinking about them when his lips curled up for no visible reason.
Through all of everything, everything he appeared to be at first glance - intelligent, strong, deadly - the archangels knew him to be a giant child every second of every minute of every day. Through the bond - Yes, bond, because apparently Sam needed more than his own Grace to make sure he wasn't thrown all through different timelines so he had to be connected to four archangels and Gabriel was absolutely certain that he did it just for fun - Sam would spontaneously launch into a story about something or other that he distinctly remembered, or said something strange in a different language. In the middle of whatever important thing the others could possibly be doing. All the strange things he did, they were all a part of that immature side of him that somehow turned out to be endearing.
Which brings him to today.
Laying in the fields with his brothers and friend.
Laughing.
It was something that apparently Sam had been planning with Lucifer and Michael, seeing as the Morningstar and mighty General of Heaven were not being held down or helping. Lucifer had cornered Raphael and Sam had Gabriel pinned to the ground with his wings and his Grace. Gabriel, squirming, tried to pull his arms down from over his head, but it was no use - Michael, that traitor, was helping. Gabriel was no match for two other archangels.
Sam was doing something, digging his fingers lightly into Gabriel's sides, and it was making him laugh. He didn't know what it was, but it just made him laugh hard and long, the sensation was weird. He tried to get Sam to stop, tried full-naming him (Calling him Samuel only made the larger being grin wider and wiggle his fingers more) but Sam was being stubborn. Whatever was happening, Gabriel wasn't sure if he hated it or loved it. It didn't matter.
Lucifer, Gabriel could see, was stunned that Raphael was trying to escape whatever was making him happy, or that Raphael was laughing about whatever in Heaven was happening. Michael, however, apparently found their predicament hilariously funny. Gabriel was going to glare at him when-
"NonononoNOOOOOOOO!"
Gabriel shrieked, making all the other angels snap their heads to face him, concern for the almost-pained sound playing out on their faces. All they saw, however, was Sam lightly pressing and wiggling his fingers into the soft down just above the joint where his wings sprung from his back. Gabriel was wheezing with laughter, bucking wildly against Sam as he tried to escape. Lucifer, curious, did the same to a Raphael who had started begging him not to, and got a similar reaction - except for the shriek, that was replaced by a squeal, much more funny. Michael had to take over from Lucifer because he was laughing too hard to do anything. Lucifer moved toward Gabriel to hold his arms with his hands and watch Sam dig his fingers into his armpits, which made his youngest brother squirm and break down into a mix of laughter and nonsensical babbling.
It was a full fifteen minutes of this onslaught of laughter and pleasure-pain before the older archangels and Sam finally relented, leaving the younger ones to breathe and giggle and curl up protectively. Gabriel and Raphael regained themselves after a bit, sitting up and glaring at the others, who just cracked up. Sam was grinning, letting warm laughter echo through their heads, the familiar warmth of his Grace curling around them.
"What in father's name was that?" Raphael chuckled, sitting up and eyeing Sam suspiciously. Sam only grinned at him, nudging him gently with one of his huge wings.
Michael looked up, as if listening, and sighed, getting elegantly to his feet and brushing off his clothing. "I must go," he said sadly, "There are things that I must do."
The brothers smiled a little sadly, waving at him as he took off for the training grounds. Lucifer slumped a little as his older brother shrank out of sight, but turned back to his brothers with a wide grin.
"I'd say Sam deserves the same treatment, don't you?"
Before Sam could react, he was flat on the ground.
Samuel didn't originally intend to interrupt the meeting. It was just that... Well, they were always talking about family. Sam remembered his family, he remembered that he had a brother and a friend who was an angel - the angel that Sam so often spent time with, Castiel. But then Raphael just starts blabbing about Sam's duty to his family and it makes him mad. Sam had accepted it, like always, but then Raphael had the nerve to tell him that Sam had to listen to him because he was older.
Ridiculous. It never worked with...
With...
Dammit, he wished he could remember his name. He couldn't remember anything beyond... the hole.
In a true Winchester fashion, Sam had lashed out when another angel came in and started acting all self-righteous, so he just took off.
Stupid time travel. Stupid plans. Stupid Raphael thinking Sam's past doesn't matter. Stupid Sam, not telling them just how bad he really was. Stupid angels being so damn nice. Stupid Castiel being so familiar without being recognisable. Stupid-
He looks down and there he is, having a serious discussion with God.
Stupid Michael and his stupid duty and his stupid righteousness.
What happened next was all Michael's fault, because he should definitely have been right there right then.
Within a few seconds, Sam was on Michael's shoulders, covering his eyes and sending them both crashing to the ground. Michael yelled a little a the sudden weight and rolled over, capturing Sam in a strong hold and giving him an incredulous look.
"Samuel?" he asked, surprised. Sam scowled, smacking Michael with his wing and earning an affronted look for his efforts.
"Sam," he said. Sam felt it as God disappeared from the scene, a hand over his mouth.
Giggling.
Stupid God, still thinks Sam can be redeemed.
Don't be rude, Samuel.
"Why," Michael looked around for God before turning back to Sam, frowning, "Sam, why did you do that? I was talking to our father."
Your father, Michael, Sam replied, the voice a mere whisper sent through his Grace, making the elder archangel wince.
"Sam? What's wrong?"
Sam said nothing. He only buried his head into Michael's shoulder and pulled his wings in tight. Stupid wings and their stupid reminder of just how dark Sam really was. He didn't care that there were tears building in his eyes until they were rolling down his cheeks. By that time, however, Michael had gone full mother-hen mode, sinking to the ground and cradling Sam like the child he was in comparison.
Sam felt his worry, and it made him sad.
"Why do you call me family?" Sam whispered, pulling back and looking at a surprised and pained Michael, "Why do you care?"
"Sam..." Michael trailed off, pulling the younger into a hug again.
"I... I did really bad things, Michael," Sam sniffed, "Really bad things. Michael, I-"
"Stop right there, Samuel," Michael said sternly, and this time Sam didn't protest to his full name, "Sam, we don't care what you've done in the past. We don't care if you've destroyed the world or killed us all."
"But-"
"No, Sam! Listen to me! Our father - Ours, Sam -
"Our father," he said softly, standing up and letting Sam settle on his hip, "Ours, Sam.
As far as plans go, this one was possibly the worst.
Sam had fought in wars alongside the archangels before - pushed back against the Darkness, taken down beings who twisted themselves beyond recognition. He had watched Raphael heal an angel on the brink of death, witnessed the wrath of Michael when an angel was lost. He'd glimpsed Lucifer fighting with a strength and ferocity unlike any other, and he'd flown far and fast with Gabriel as he helped brothers out of tight spots and dived in to decimate unsuspecting enemy ranks. Many plans in the past had been questionable at best, but this?
This plan was downright suicidal. A frontal assault right towards the nest? Sometimes it surprised him that the archangels could live as long as they did.
Trying to warn the archangels of the stupidity of the ideas, however... that proved a fruitless attempt. Michael was convinced that this was the only shot they would have to take down the Noxi. Lucifer listened and cast it aside, sure that with the right preparation they would be ready. Raphael, though he trusted Sam, did nothing to hinder the approach of the battle, but neither did he eagerly push forward towards it. Gabriel, he was the closest Sam came to a change. He trusted Sam, and gave his word that he would do his best to convince his brothers in the place of their closest friend. But nothing was happening and the battle was on the horizon.
Sam had not wanted to have to do something like this, but it seemed to be the only option.
The battle seemed in the Heaven's favour for the first part. The angels and archangels quickly approached the home of the ghastly, bloodthirsty monsters, but the closer they got the more uncomfortable Sam grew, his connection to his fellow archangels humming with warning. He found himself fighting just that little bit harder, pushing himself to his limits, and he didn't stop until he was there with Lucifer, guarding his flank just as Gabriel achieved the same position with Michael. The eldest archangels seemed slightly exasperated, but Sam and Gabriel stubbornly refused to relinquish their places.
Sam remembered vividly the stories that Lucifer and Michael had told him about how the war with the Noxi ended. It was this battle, this final fight, where they finally destroyed the race of malevolent creatures, but it was at a terrible cost. This battle, slaying thousands upon thousands of living beings, Lucifer had told him, marked the true beginning of his Fall.
Sam needed to do something.
Something... decidedly stupid.
He could feel the battle drawing to a close. He could taste the oncoming rush of victory, just as he did toward the end of ever war. He focused on his movements, spinning and slashing.
A stab and a Nox warrior fell.
A parry and thrust, there went another.
He kept going, tearing through the dwindling ranks. The angels were beginning to cheer, roaring their triumph as they approached the point where God's orders had taken them - the Noxi were to be destroyed and sent to Purgatory with the rest of the monsters who became monsters because they were too dark not to destroy themselves.
But of course, they celebrated too early. They let down their guard.
All it took was that one, tiny little mistake, that one little slip up. Michael turned away from his falling opponent the second he was slain, meeting the blade of another savage Nox. He didn't see the other warrior who shot forth in the place of the first, aiming his blade for Gabriel's wing, unprotected now that the elder brother no longer guarded it. The strike would have landed as Gabriel twisted back around, it would have torn through his torso and left a scar on his Grace. If it had landed.
Gabriel found himself facing a protective wall of archangel, one wall of feathered obsidian armour extended to protect Lucifer while the other shot back to send the approaching Nox flying backwards with a burst of power. Sam flinched slightly when the cursed blade sliced through his chest, a savage blow that pierced his Grace and made his muscles lock up for a second. Gabriel barely had time to gasp in shock and horror before the Nox was incinerated by the Grace that shot down the blade and Samuel was moving again, yanking the blade off him from where it dangled gruesomely from his abdomen and dropping it, eyes blazing. His gold blade, in a reverse grip, buried itself into a Nox's heart while the silver came around to decapitate another.
He turned to Gabriel, who only barely managed to block the next enemy's strike, and growled dangerously.
"Keep fighting," Sam said, "We panic when the war is done."
Gabriel nodded, and his attention was back on the last of the battle.
Michael and Lucifer had both noticed the chain of events that had only lasted a few seconds, and both upped their protective guard thrice over. All three could feel Sam weakening, but calling on Raphael was out of the question. They were in the heat of battle, and there was no way to bring any sort of healer into the fray without killing them, combat-ready archangel or not.
So they fought on until the war was won.
Though they had been in constant combat for days, the archangels neither slowed nor paused. Every now and then there was a flash of brilliant white light and an angel would roar and leap back into battle, a flash of wings the only sign that Raphael had been there. He dared not approach his brothers and Sam, who whirled in the middle of the fray. None showed weakness.
None dared show weakness.
By the time the final Nox was slain and locked in purgatory, however, Samuel was beginning to sag. The three great wings on his left were bent a little, held at an awkward and painful angle that pulled on the wound. There was silence as there always was right after a battle, then a great roar rose from the ranks, for the monsters were finally dealt with.
To Sam the noise thundered deafeningly around in his head. He fell to his knees, the sound dimming as the world went black.
"... soon."
Something that Sam had long become unfamiliar with was the feeling of unconsciousness. He hadn't slept in... oh, a couple of centuries, give or take. But then again, this coming back to consciousness didn't feel so much like waking up from sleep as it did coming to after being hit by a meteorite.
Meteorites hurt.
"How could something like this happen? We... we were fine!"
Speaking about things that hurt, maybe getting sliced open with a blade specifically designed to kill archangels wasn't the best idea either. Stupid human-turned-archangel, assuming he knew what he was doing.
"Perhaps he should have focused more on our friend and less on his thirst for victory."
Sam's thoughts drifted, and he felt a sudden burst of exasperation. He reached out and poured as much deadpan into his Grace as was possible.
This is why I can't do nice things for you.
"SAM!"
Sam's breath was knocked out of him when three different weights settled on top of him. He managed to pry his eyes open enough to see the relieved faces of his fellow archangels, and smiled slightly. He wrapped one arm around Gabriel, who was half on his side and the other came around Raphael, grasping Lucifer's arm behind him. The Morningstar let out a small laugh, eyes sparkling, and Sam frowned slightly. He raised an eyebrow, looking around pointedly.
"You've been out for days, Sam," he informed him, "Raphael's been healing you to the best of his ability."
A roll of the eyes and a nudge at Raphael's shoulder.
"Yes it was necessary."
With an amused shake of his head, Sam disentangled himself from Gabriel and Raphael, pulling himself into a sitting position. His chest ached, he noticed, but no worse than anything he'd ever suffered. The only thing that would last was probably the worry on his friends' faces. Lucifer's eyes kept flicking to the edge of a slightly raised silver scar that was visible peeking out of the edge of his clothing. Sam looked at it with an unimpressed expression. Instead of going on with the topic, though, Sam reached out, trying to feel the familiar well of Grace that didn't seem to be there.
Where is Michael? Is he alright? Was he injured?
"Michael is fine, Sam," Gabriel said, glancing warily at a stony-faced Lucifer, "He's just..."
"He's got more important things to worry about than his brothers," Lucifer scowled. Gabriel looked down sadly as Raphael sighed, but Sam kept his eyes fixed on Lucifer. He could feel the anger that rolled off him and tinted his Grace.
This makes you angry.
"Of course it does," the Morningstar said impatiently, "He's so caught up being a general he's failing as a brother!"
Failing as a brother. Sam's mental voice sounded tired, older than he should, and it made the archangels pause. A failed brother. I suppose he's betrayed you? Chosen someone over you? Done something awful despite your protests? Perhaps he has unleashed a great evil or done something that's gotten you killed? Or has he failed to appreciate just how much having a brother means? Lucifer, Michael is many things. A failed brother... That is not one of them.
The three were silent, eyes instinctively going down to avoid the dark gaze of one who sounded so much older than he should. Sam stared into nothing for a few minutes, but his face broke out in a tired, mischievous grin.
Besides, no worries necessary. I still have battle scars than you do, Lucifer.
Lucifer, stunned by the change in subject, briefly thought of the ridiculous competition that he and Sam had to see who was clumsiest in a fight. It started out innocent, but now whoever had the most battle scars was decreed the most careless.
There was nothing to the title. It was just a competition.
Sam and Lucifer were way too competitive.
Gabriel, golden eyes previously hidden by his hair, groaned and headbutted Sam's uninjured shoulder. Sam laughed, running a hand through Gabriel's feathers and pushing him off gently, getting painfully to his feet. His dark wings were held at an awkward angle to avoid pulling at the rip through his flesh, and the feathers on the left side near the base were sharp and hard, impenetrable and defensive despite the distinct lack of enemies in the area.
Raphael, smiling softly, ducked under his arm.
"I suppose we should give Michael a little trouble?"
What gave you that impression? Sam smiled wryly.
They disappeared, leaving the sound of laughter in their wake.
A/N Alright, people. There you go. Hopefully you enjoyed that, a little bit of brotherly fluff and bashed Sam. The first few chapters are going to be placed pretty far apart in time, and I think the next one will probably be out some time later this month or maybe next. I can't do all too much to work on this story, I have a lot of work to do and I legit have to babysit my siblings for the rest of the year. Don't expect me to get in quick, please.
Read and review, please, let me know what you think!
Stay safe and at least partially sane, guys.
Sid.