Sam is kneeling on the ground, head down, and has blasted everything within a twelve-foot radius away. Except for Gabriel.

Sam's wings are stretched out, feathers splayed, glinting like metal and his molten gold halo is dripping and hissing when it hits the ground like it's evaporating, and there are scorch marks on the ground, surrounding where he kneels and his eyes hold no trace of human, they're just rippling energy contained within a vessel and Sam lets out a breath and it shakes the ground–

And then Sam throws up.

The power snaps back into his body as Sam begins to stand shakily, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand and turning to Gabriel, who stands there, amber-gold wings outstretched and a disk of solid bronze hovering over his head.

Gabriel's eyes are wide as his wings fold back and halo dissipates. And then they both look human again. Although they are very much not.

Sam stumbles over to another car, leaning on it and hanging his head.

"Sorry," He grunts.

"You have grace," Gabriel says, and it's not a question.

Sam frowns. "Yeah, I thought you could tell."

Gabriel walks over slowly, stiff. "No, I couldn't- my grace wasn't strong enough, I was far too weak." He narrows his eyes as he looks Sam over. "Why do you have grace?"

It's not, "How do you have grace?", because Sam thinks Gabriel already knows. Just take a look at the golden feathers, golden eyes, golden halo.

It's why, because Sam knows a soul should not be able to contain grace, no matter how powerful it is. A soul is all soul, that's it. Except for Sam Winchester.

Sam's hands shake, and he grabs onto the edge of the car. It creaks under him, and when he moves away, there's a handprint-shaped dent in the metal.

Am I ever going to get used to this? Sam thinks, sighing. Then he turns back to Gabriel, eyes full of pain.

"My soul…" God dammit, Sam, just say it. "It was shredded, torn apart, whatever you want to call it. The cracks, well," He snorts. "The cracks are filled with gold, so to speak."

This time, Gabriel is the one to freeze. "What happened?" What happened to your soul? Why is it shredded? There are so many other questions behind the words Gabriel says. Still, he says it quietly, not demanding an answer.

But Sam chooses to anyway. "The Cage," He says simply, as if it's no big deal at all.

Gabriel snarls. "How?"

Sam bites his lip, turns away. He speaks as quickly as he can. "I said yes. Jumped in. Accidently dragged Michael down too."

Gabriel makes a wounded noise as he flinches backward. "How long?"

Sam winces and shuts his eyes, shuts the memories out. "Five thousand years," He whispers, and his wings curl around him like a tent of feathers.

Gabriel chokes. "How are...how are you still alive?"

Dear boy, you're all duct tape and safety pins inside. How are you alive?

Sam shrugs, putting on a bitter smirk. "Honestly? No idea," He rasps out.

Before this, he knew he'd been falling apart for quite a while.

The only thing holding him together now is grace.

Gabriel looks wary, but he sighs and a weak smile forms at the edge of his mouth.

"Come on, let's get back to camp." Gabriel's three pairs of wings stretch out in anticipation.

Sam looks at them and feels something break in his chest. "Gabe…I'm sorry about your grace."

This time, Gabriel grins, eyes sparkling. "It seems I got a super-charge from you. Don't worry about me."

Sam sucks in a breath. "What?" He whispers, shocked, confused, and thankful, because for once he did something right in his life.

Gabriel rolls his shoulders, wings stretching out as well. "Yup! Okay, now let's go, because I'm pretty sure Dean will stab me if we don't get there on time for food."

Sam looks at Gabriel, frowning. Gabriel rolls his eyes.

"Yes, I think he knows you don't need to eat, but food is excellent, yes? Come on, let's go."

Sam nods, getting up from where he was leaning against the car. This time, when he stands, he's stable. Good.

And Gabriel sobers a little bit when he watches Sam. And then he looks Sam in the eyes.

Amber-whiskey eyes to those of an ever-changing color.

Archangel to archangel.

One, old as time and the other newly born.

And at this, fate herself, trembles.

And Gabriel, Archangel, Messenger of God, speaks.

For what it is worth, Samael, I think of it as an honor to have you as a brother.

Sam falters at Gabriel's voice in his head, but then he smiles and replies with a quiet,

And I you, Gabriel.

They both disappear with a whisper of wings.