Come What May

by Hiza Montmorency

The Moulin Rouge… It was a night club, a bordello, a dance hall, a land full of all the pleasures of sin. It was a kind of nightly pleasure, where rich men and women came to play with the strange, beautiful creatures of the underworld. Among them was the man I loved. His name was Samuel, and he was a courtesan. And this is the story of how he died.

7. Chapter 6

Chapter Six: Vicious, Voracity, and Terminal Velocity

Crowley's careful lies had averted what could have been a horrific disaster. But no lies, careful, brilliant, or otherwise, could save Sam…

It was dark in the little dressing room where Sam lay quietly sleeping, a change from the wheezing, gasping, coughing man of only a few hours earlier. Bobby was quietly putting away his supplies, and didn't jump when Crowley loomed out of the shadows. The man dressed darker and darker lately, a change from the dramatic reds he had favored earlier, and thus was easier to hide.

"Well?" He said quietly, looking over the sleeping man.

"He's dying, Crowley," Bobby said flatly, standing up with his bag in hand. "It's consumption, and it's fairly far along."

There was a flash of shock and pain on Crowley's face, and then it was carefully hidden away, tucked behind a mask of stone. Bobby knew better than to comment. He'd worked with the man long enough now to know that when he decided that he felt a specific way, it was easier to let him believe that than fight him.

"He mustn't know, Bobby," Crowley said quietly, surprising him.

"What?"

"The show must go on."

And with that, Crowley slipped back into the shadows, where the only thing to mark his passing was the faint groan of floorboards. Bobby stood stock still in the dressing room, helpless, and looked down at the sleeping boy. Perhaps it was for the best.

oOo

All night, the penniless sitar player had waited for his courtesan. Now, in the cold light of the morning, he felt, for the first time, the cold and cruel stabs of jealousy.

"Where were you last night?" Gabriel asked quietly from where he was sitting in the window. Sam, wrapped in Gabriel's sheets and with thoroughly impressive sex hair, slowly lifted his head from the pillow to look at him.

"Gabriel, I told you this earlier," he said, sounding a little confused as he rearranged himself to look at him a little easier. "I was sick."

Gabriel looked away from the window to watch Sam, heart squeezed by jealousy. It was early morning, golden sun pouring into the room and making everything gleam. Sam's hair had become a halo around him, even as he fought it back to normal, and the light seemed to caress his skin, making him glow like some unearthly, ethereal thing. He turned away, unable to bear it. "You don't have to lie to me."

"I didn't–" Sam stopped with an angry huff, annoyed, and settled back down into bed. Another few minutes passed that way, until he said quietly, "We have to break it off."

Gabriel's head snapped around to stare at him, blatantly shocked. Sam refused to look at him, continuing, "Everybody knows, Gabriel. Crowley knows, he's made it…very clear to me, that he knows." His hand absently reached up to rub the cheek that Crowley had hit. "Sooner or later, the Duke will find out that we're still together and it won't be pretty. He already knows, and made it pretty clear that he expects me to be leaving you soon." He finally looked up to look at Gabriel, whose face was stricken. "I have to sleep with him opening night, there's no way around that. I'm not a fool, I know that the jealousy will drive you mad."

Gabriel ran a shaking hand over his face, jumping out of the window so that he could pace around the room, clearly shocked. Sam's shoulders slumped. "Gabriel…"

"I'll write a song," he blurted out, wheeling to face him. "I'll write us a song, and we'll put it in the show." He climbed onto the bed, smiling shakily at Sam. "And that way, when- when you hear it, or hum it, or sing it, it'll mean that we love each other. I promise, I won't get jealous."

"It's not that simple," Sam argued, but he wasn't sounding very convinced. "Gabriel, we need to end this." It was clear to see that he was unhappy, and with a shaking hand, Gabriel reached out to stroke his cheek. Sam closed his eyes, lip trembling a little as he caught Gabriel's hand and held it there. He turned his head to kiss his palm, taking deep, shuddering breaths. The world outside felt like it was spiraling out of control, faster and faster as it reached a terminal velocity, even as inside the apartment, alone together, the world was still and safe.

"Never knew…" Gabriel sang shakily. "I could feel like this. Like I'd never seen the sky before…"

Sam let out a broken sob, pressing their foreheads together and pulling Gabriel in close to him, and they held each other tight, tears running down Sam's face.

"Want to vanish inside your kiss…" Gabriel breathed, pressing kisses across his face and wiping away the tears. "Each day I love you, more and more."

oOo

The words became wrapped in Sam's everyday life, a shield against all the insanity that surrounded him. They were there at rehearsal, as he and Castiel practiced lines, dramatically grabbing each others' hands and dancing around the stage, memorizing songs and careful steps as Gabriel watched and critiqued.

Season's may change, winter to spring.

There when Gabriel pressed fond kisses to the top of his hair as they lounged together in his dressing room.

But I love you, until the end of time.

They were there the nights that Dean stayed with him, and when they laughed and joked together he couldn't remember being happier than he was at that moment. They were even there when Dean fell asleep, or came to him shaky from whichever client had left him battered.

Come what may… Come what may.

They were always there when he was out on a walk with Lucifer, his skin crawling because the man was watching him with hungry eyes that were desperate to devour. They were a savior from the way the man would run his hands over his sides and back, possessive and cloying with their intensity.

I will love you, until my dying day.

On the days when Lucifer would take him to the park and they would sit and picnic together, they were a particular boon. The man was growing more frustrated by the day, hungry to claim him and keep him for himself, and Sam's excuses were running thin. Lucifer could be kind, but he couldn't shake the look in the man's eyes that promised him pain later down the road.

Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place…

Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace.

Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste…

It all revolves around you.

Sam and Gabriel found time to be together whenever they could, but their time was limited. With Crowley prowling around, more than willing to punish Sam for still hanging around with their writer, they had to be more careful. But it was well worth it, and once they began seeing each other in earnest, Sam blossomed in Gabriel's presence. He'd been happy before, but now he was in a sort of domestic bliss all the time, curling up with him and nuzzling into his side. He became Sam Winchester under Gabriel's care, not Sam the courtesan, and the difference was obvious.

And there's no mountain to high

No river to wide

Sing out this song and I'll be there

By your side

Rehearsal's went well, and soon they were approaching the finish of the Moulin Rouge's conversion. Soon people were being fitted for their final costumes, and Gabriel found himself being fitted for a proper tuxedo for the first night.

Storm clouds may gather

And stars may collide!

But I love you

I love you…

Until the end

Of

Time.

And then, sudden, it was the close to last rehearsal, and there they all were up on the stage, singing the song in a run through that should have been the most routine thing in the business. Gabriel was singing along with, beaming as they all sang in perfect tune, and Lucifer was watching, and Castiel and Sam were the perfect mix of dramatic but believable. The finale ended on a perfect note, and everyone looked over at Lucifer, who had gone very still.

"Well?" Sam asked, eyes bright.

"How curious," Lucifer said, his voice quietly, and suddenly the hall was very still. "You know, Meg pointed out something very interesting to me today." He rose, as everyone turned to look at Meg. She looked back at them all, distinctly uninterested, and Castiel's eyes narrowed at her. She shrugged, rolling her eyes. Lucifer settled his coat better on his shoulders, looking over them all. "This ending makes no sense."

"What?" Gabriel said, stunned.

"No, really." Lucifer's eyes were fixed on Sam, cold and intense. "Why on Earth would the courtesan pick the sitar player when the Maharajah is offering him a better life? Everything he ever dreamed of, riches beyond imagining… After all, once the sitar player has satisfied his lust, he'll leave the courtesan with nothing." His smile was deadly. "So, I would suggest, that instead, the ending is changed so that our sweet courtesan chooses the Maharajah instead."

Balthazar spoke up from his costume as the sitar, annoyed. "But that ending doesn't fulfill the Bohemian ideals of Truth, Beauty, Freedom, and Love-"

Lucifer's head snapped to him. "Does it seem like I particularly care about your bizarre dogma?" he asked, cold as ice. He turned his attention back to the cast, and Castiel looked nervously at Sam, feeling how the man's hands were shaking. "So tell me…" he said quietly, looking at them all. "Why shouldn't the courtesan pick the Maharajah?"

"Because he doesn't love you!"

Everybody turned to look at Gabriel, and as Lucifer slowly turned, Sam's eyes widened with fear.

"Him," Gabriel croaked out, the realization clearly hitting him. "He doesn't love…him."

"I see," Lucifer said quietly, looking at Gabriel. "Well. If you want your show to go on, rewrite the ending. Have the courtesan choose the Maharajah." He stepped forward, until he was directly in front of Gabriel, who was shaking with suppressed rage as they stared each other down. "And drop the lovers song. Rehearse it in the morning, and it will be ready by nightfall."

"Duke," Crowley said from the stage, looking horrified at the idea, but Sam dropped Castiel's hand and lifted his chin. Behind them, Dean fretfully started to move forward, only to be grabbed firmly by Meg and Ruby and pulled back with hissed warnings.

"Crowley," he said calmly, descending the tiers of the stage. Lucifer turned, and for the first time it was clear just how upset he truly was. His eyes were wild, but settled a little as Sam walked to him. "Our Duke is upset, can't you see that? And he is our financier, we can't let him be unhappy." He stopped in front of Lucifer, resplendent in the days attire. He gleamed in the light, the long coat with its mandarin collar and half black, half oxblood coloring gleaming. The pants were oxblood as well, and the whole affair was trimmed in golden designs, swirls and careful pictures in the cloth. His hair was pinned up, and fans were tethered there. He cut an imposing figure, a good deal taller than the Duke, who was now trembling a little.

Sam ducked his head, all sweet submission now that he was close, and reached out to gently smooth Lucifer's suit coat. "The writers let their imaginations run fast and free," he murmured gently, almost caressing the soft wool. "So, sweetheart, why don't we have some supper, and spend some time relaxing, just you and me? And after that's done, we can tell Crowley which ending we want."

Lucifer let out a deep breath, leaning into Sam's touch as Gabriel looked away, biting his lip hard.

oOo

"I don't want you to sleep with him."

Sam took a deep breath from where he was digging through his trunk of things, dresses and suits flung haphazardly out of it as he searched for what he wanted. "Gabriel, this really isn't an option right now. The man could ruin everything, he could shatter your career before it even gets started, and you want me to throw all that away?"

Gabriel looked up from where he was sitting on the bed of the elephant, his expression miserable. Dean was pacing at the front near the heart cut out, his hair wild from how many times he had run his hands through it. Sam sighed, turning to look at the small man. "It's for us," he said quietly, and Dean groaned, stalking away up to the top of the elephant.

Gabriel rose, going over to look miserably at Sam's newly corseted waist. Dean had been forced to do it to the extreme this time, giving him curves where none were meant to be. He reached out, feeling the smooth curve of his new shape, and Sam caught his hand, making him look up. Gabriel sighed, head dropping.

"You promised, Gabriel," Sam whispered, carefully sitting on one of the rickety chairs. "You promised me that you wouldn't get jealous, you promised me that you were okay. It'll be alright."

Gabriel shook his head, stepping away, and Sam rose again, reaching out to pull him into a tight hug. Gabriel clutched him back, biting back his frustration.

"I'm just so tired of fighting for this," he said brokenly, and Sam squeezed him tighter. "I'm just so tired, Sammy, I'm so tired. I don't want you to leave, I want us to just go away, flee and never come back."

"I know," Sam whispered, kissing the top of his head. "I know."

They stood together for a moment before Sam said, his voice breaking a little, "Dean's going to help me finish preparing."

Gabriel stepped back, smiling shakily. "Alright. You'll…you'll look amazing, I'm sure."

Sam nodded, and Gabriel turned, walking towards the door.

"Come…what may," Sam sang hesitantly as Gabriel's hand fixed on the doorknob. He turned, smiling even though a few tears were clearly threatening to spill. "I will love you…until my dying day."

Gabriel opened the door and stepped through, and Sam crumpled onto the bed, trying to keep his wits about him as he tried not to cry. A hand gently squeezed his shoulder, and he looked up tearfully at Dean. His face was an impassive mask, and Sam took as deep a breath he could.

"Time to put your armor on," Dean said, helping him up. "This is going to be the performance of your life."

Sam let himself be helped into the dark dress, swallowing hard when Dean carefully did up the laces and zippers that kept it all in place. The velvet clung to him like a second skin, the sparkling glass of the red sash gleaming in the light. He'd only ever worn it once, when he'd first been learning the art of seduction, and now, it was time to give the thing new life. Dean helped him put the satin gloves on, silent, letting Sam ready himself. A solitary ring was added, and then he was carefully sat down, Dean's calloused fingers carefully pinning up his hair from his neck.

"You're going to be fine tonight," Dean said quietly, deftly pinning up the hair with an elaborate silver comb.

"Think so?" Sam asked, looking at himself with pure misery. The person staring back at him in the mirror was no man. He had been transformed into something in between, a mix of male and female. He felt like a shape shifter, stuck between forms.

"Yes," Dean said bluntly, picking up the pots of makeup to begin work on his face with careful precision. "I know you, Sam. We'll put on your war paint and your armor, even if it is made of velvet." He carefully rouged Sam's cheeks. "And you'll walk into battle with silk and satin on your skin, and you will be the most glorious, dangerous knight to ever walk the Earth. People fell at your feet a long time before we were plucked off the streets, and even if I can't save you from this life, you can sure as hell save yourself."

"Thanks for believing in me that much," he said quietly, as his brother picked up the lipstick.

"Of course," Dean said quietly, painting him up.

"And for what it's worth," Sam said timidly, "I hope that Castiel decides he hates her."

Dean's eyes flicked up to his, and his mouth became a thin, strained line as he finished. "I hope so too," he said quietly. After a few more minutes work, he stood back, nodding. "You're done."

Sam rose, taking as deep a breath as he could.

It was time.

oOo

Sam went to the tower to save us all. And for our part, we could do nothing. In the cavernous hall of the Moulin Rouge, we waited. We could do nothing but simply wait. And as we waited, Sam climbed the steps of the tower to have the doors opened for him, and through the veil of silk that Dean had draped over his face like a veil of mourning, he said, "Dear Duke…I hope I have not kept you waiting."

The main hall of the Moulin Rouge was mostly quiet. No one had gone home for the evening, instead opting to stay and wait. Scattered conversation was to be had, but it was stilted and soon dried up, as did the tea that someone brought out. There was a cloud of smoke drifting out of the little opening at the top, the haze from the cigarettes being sucked away into the dark. In the corner, Balthazar was quietly working his way through his third glass of absinthe, accompanied by a grim faced Dean who had chain smoked his way through half of his stash. Castiel was on the stage, his gaze flicking to where Meg and Ruby were conversing before going back to Dean. Gabriel was watching him watch the others, desperate for even the slightest bit of a distraction.

Victor was working at the piano, eyes dark and focused, and the old man who'd been dragged in to play violin after Victor had swore up and down to leave the show if the man wasn't his first chair was working his bow delicately across the strings.

Gabriel jolted as a hand lazily caressed the back of his neck. Meg laughed, smiling wickedly down at him. "Nervous, angel? Oh, don't be. Our sweet Sammy's very talented. You'll get your ending, right after the Duke gets his."

Rage swelled him, and he jumped upright. Meg just laughed as he swung a fist at her, only to be stopped by Castiel who seemed to appear out of nowhere to grab his arm and shove him back down in his chair.

Meg smirked at him and sauntered away as Castiel watched him, largely impassive save for the burning anger in his eyes. Gabriel glowered up at him, unafraid, and Castiel turned away, stalking down the tiers.

"In Argentina," he called loudly, his voice ringing harshly around the room, "there is a dance. The Tango. It is danced in the brothels, and it tells a story." He turned sharply, long coat flicked off and away in one smooth motion. Dean sat up, and Balthazar looked away in to his drink. "The moral is this- never fall in love with one who sells themselves."

Gabriel gritted his teeth, fingers digging into the arms of his chair.

"Do you know why?" he demanded. "It always. Ends. BAD!" The words echoed hard around the room, and it all went still, everyone watching as Castiel paced the floor, loosening the blue tie he'd worn that day and letting it flutter to the ground.

But the story is more complex," Castiel continued, looking around at them all as he slid off his suit coat. "A prostitute!"

The spotlight flicked on, fixing on Meg, who looked around at them all before laughing and sauntering down the stairs to Castiel, taking his waiting hand. He waved a hand at Victor, who hit a chord and began a careful tinkling melody. Meg was twirled away, and Castiel turned to face her. Dean and Gabriel both rose in perfect time.

"And the man who falls in love with her," Castiel said quietly.

The music picked up, and the orchestra began to play. The steps were sharp and dramatic, Meg's dress swishing as her heeled foot came down hard. The two were circling each other, drawing steadily closer, each predatory.

"First," Castiel said, "there is…desire." They snapped close together, hips pressed tight as Meg looked up at him, eyes dark with pleasure. They moved in perfect sync, Dean's eyes glittering darkly as he watched the two. Gabriel began a slow walk along the edge of the dance floor, up by the booths he had sat in that first night.

"Then, passion," Castiel said, low and throaty, and the two began to dance, smooth and easy, with perfect spins and sharply pointed toes. As they did so, others rose, eyes intent on the woman in black before them. Castiel pulled her into his arms, eyes flicking from one to another, predatory and dangerous. A few stepped closer, and Castiel stepped back, grabbing Meg's hand. "Then, suspicion!"

Her eyes widened, smile now gone, and they walked in a circle, eyes fixed on each other.

"Jealousy!" Castiel snarled, pushing her away. "Anger! Betrayal!"

She stumbled backwards, clearly scared as Castiel stalked after her. Others were rising now, watching more closely.

"When love is for the highest bidder, there can be no trust!" Castiel caught her and pulled her in close, swaying from side to side as she gripped his arms, fearful. "And without trust… there is no love."

He spun her away again, letting her be caught by one of the other dancers.

"Jealousy," he said lowly, watching the dance begin again, "yes, jealousy. It will drive you mad!" The last word was shouted, and rang through the hall, making the crystals in the chandelier vibrate dangerously.

Gabriel closed his eyes, and Castiel's voice rumbled low and deep as he began to sing.

"Roxanne!"

Meg and the other began to dance, others stepping in closer as they spun and caught each other, Megs feet moving in sharp patterns. She was lifted and twirled, effortlessly moved back and forth like a puppet on carefully controlled strings.

"You don't have to put on that red light," Castiel sang, pacing as he watched the dancers. "Walk the streets for money…you don't care if it's wrong or if it is right- Roxanne!" Meg slumped in their grip, passed off to another in the mass of people that were flocking to her. Castiel looked both hurt and enraged, lips pulled back in a snarl as he watched the men slowly inch their hands down, down, down. "You don't have to wear that dress tonight. Roxanne!" They had crowded up behind her by then, others leaning down to kiss her neck and rub against her. Dean turned away from the floor, walking up the tiers in into the darkness behind the stage. Castiel watched them all, hands clenched to fists.

"You don't have to sell your body to the night."

Gabriel turned and walked towards the door, his feet slow on the floor. "His eyes upon your face," he whispered, as Meg fled the floor and others stepped out onto it, pairing up for the dance. "His hands upon your hand. His lips caress your skin… It's more than I can stand."

Sam was kissed, poorly, as he walked through the door. The gloves had come off, he'd sat down to dinner, and he'd laughed about the writer's hopeless infatuation. And then they had stepped aside to the couch.

Behind him, Castiel was calling out, "Roxanne!" as the dance began again. Bodies swirled around him as he sang, heart desperate at get the words out.

"Why does my heart cry?"

"Roxanne!"

Gabriel pulled his coat in tighter. "Feelings I can't fight… You're free to leave me, but just…don't deceive me and please…" He pushed open the beautiful doors as Meg and Castiel swirled into each other's arms and then apart on the floor. "Believe me when I say, I love you!"

And Lucifer was leaning over, a finger lazily tracing the vein on Sam's neck as he averted his eyes. "Should the show be as roaring a success as expected, you won't be a mere can-can dancer anymore," the Duke purred, and Sam found himself wishing he wasn't thing, wishing more than anything that he was back in Gabriel's apartment, safe in bed with him. "You'll be an actor…a star across the city and eventually the continent."

There was the sound of a box opening, and Sam turned to see the most exquisite necklace resting in a shell like case. He rose in a swish of velvet, pressing a hand to his chest in shock as Lucifer lifted it out of the case and fastened it around his neck. It was tall, and draped down perfectly over his neck, the most exquisite thing he had ever seen.

"A gift," Lucifer purred, hands on his waist. "From this maharajah to his courtesan."

Sam touched the stones, trembling with the enormity of the gift. "And…and the ending?"

Lucifer chuckled, kissing his shoulder. "Let Gabriel keep his beloved fairy tale ending."

Meg and Castiel watched each other silently from opposite sides of the room as Gabriel stepped out of the building, into lightly falling snow. The moon was bright and full, resting above the Gothic Tower, and as he slowly made his way out towards the gates. He wanted to go home.

As he crossed the courtyard, Sam watched him from the balcony. Lucifer stood behind him, pressing soft, tender kisses into his back. The silver and diamonds around his neck felt like a noose, choking him tight, and as he looked down at the tiny figure of Gabriel, alone and crossing the courtyard in the snow, he began singing quietly, in the hopes the music would reach him on the wind.

"Come what may…" he sang softly, letting his voice be stolen by the faint chill in the air. "I will love you… til my dying…day."

Gabriel's head dropped, and he continued to walk. Lucifer's hand squeezed his hip, sliding down the curve, and he breathed a broken, "No."

Lucifer's hand froze, and Sam all but panicked.

"No?" the man said softly, his voice dangerous.

"Not out here in the cold," Sam said, a little desperate. "Let's go inside, where it's warm. The bed-"

A hand on the back of his neck made him stop, and Lucifer stepped to the side, looking down to see Gabriel passing out of the corner of the courtyard. "I see," he said, his voice dark. "Our very own little sitar player, headed home."

Sam's heart hammered, and just as he opened his mouth he was shoved roughly back into the room. The unexpected push made him stumble, and he fell to the ground, his leg immediately setting up a deep ache as he clutched it, looking up with fear. "Mighty Duke-"

The words froze in his mouth as Lucifer loomed over him, eyes dark and glinting with fury. "Silence," the man snarled, and Sam was shoved even further down when Lucifer backhanded him, this time on the left. He thought numbly, blankly for a moment about how curious it was that now both cheeks were equal, only to squeal in pain when a boot connected with his stomach.

"You," Lucifer said, his voice shaking for the first time. "You made me believe that you loved me!"

As Sam stumbled to his feet to flee, in the main hall Castiel and Meg were dancing together as the music picked up, the vibrant tones resonating in their skin. Gabriel was repeating his refrain, singing his pain out from the window of his flat. Little people with little lives in the Moulin Rouge were pressed together, a sea of black and white eroticism that had nothing to do with clients or ownership, just all the unsaid things coming out at once. And as Meg cried out, Castiel's grip a shade too tight as he bared his teeth, Sam was sobbing, jewels ripped from his neck and velvet torn from his skin.

Why does my heart cry

And then he was being thrown bodily on the bed, because Lucifer was terrifyingly strong and he was so weak these days, and there was nothing he could do. Lie back and think of England, he thought hysterically. A mother's advice he'd heard once from a girl who'd snuck in to find out how the other half lived. Don't fight it. Lie still and let it be done and over with. And so he covered his mouth to keep from crying.

Meg was tossed around a circle, helpless as Castiel watched, his expression flat and lifeless, until finally she was in his arms and looking up at him, desperate and scared.

Feelings I can't fight!

Gabriel screaming from his window, the music screaming from the hall, the screams of Lucifer as he stared down at the person who dared to choose the wrong path

All

Stopped.

Meg lay still in the circle, as though dead, having danced until she was gone.

Gabriel slumped in the window, exhausted and miserable past words.

And Lucifer fell, Dean looming up in his place with furious eyes and a golden candlestick.

oOo

Gabriel was pouring himself an exceptionally stiff drink when his door burst open, and Sam hobbled in with Dean carrying him to throw himself in Gabriel's arms. His face was a tear streaked mess, and as Gabriel caught him, he looked blankly at Dean, who just looked like the world may have been ending.

"I couldn't do it," Sam sobbed, clutching him. "I couldn't, Gabriel, I couldn't, I saw you and then he saw you and he hit me and I-I-I couldn't!"

"He hit you?" Gabriel demanded, pulling back to look at him. Sam sniffled, nodding as he was sat on the bed. Dean hurried to sit behind him, deft fingers undoing the knot of the corset to begin slowly loosening it. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Dean saved me," Sam said with a grateful smile. Dean just shook his head, clearly upset. "But Gabriel, you have to know."

"Know what, sweetheart?" he asked, reaching over to take his hands.

"I love you," Sam said earnestly, and Gabriel smiled broadly.

"I love you too, Sammy," he said gently, and Dean rolled his eyes in exasperation at the two as he began carefully letting the corset out, so as not to hurt Sam.

Sam's smile faded, and he looked up at him. "Gabriel, he knows. He knows and he's dangerous, and- and I can't do it anymore. I didn't want to pretend in there, and I don't know, I don't want to pretend anymore!" The last words came out in a rush as he got some of his air back.

"You don't have to pretend anymore," Gabriel promised, taking his hand. "We'll leave. We'll leave tonight, and get far, far away from here."

Dean's head jerked up.

"But the show," Sam said uncertainly.

"I don't care," Gabriel said firmly, taking his hands again and gently squeezing them. "I don't care about the show. We'll have each other, and that's enough."

"Yes," Sam breathed as he leaned their foreheads together, breath coming a little easier as Dean finished letting out the corset. "Yes, we'll run." He looked up at Dean with pleading eyes, and his brother smiled ruefully.

"Not sure how much I like this guy, but far be it from me to deny you your happiness," Dean said, ruffling Sam's hair. He batted his had away, smiling up at him in relief.

"Will you take him back to his dressing room to pack?" Gabriel asked, and Dean nodded. "No one must see you."

"Believe me, I understand," Dean said, helping Sam upright. The two leaned on each other, and Sam smiled when Gabriel stood on tip-toes to kiss him.

"Go pack," he said quietly. "I'll be waiting."

oOo

"It's the boy," Lucifer said calmly as he held a bag of ice to his head where he'd been hit. "He's very good with words, after all. He's poisoned Sam against me."

Crowley winced when the bag came away slightly bloody.

"I want him back, Crowley," the Duke continued, very calm. "Find him, and tell him that if he doesn't come to me once that curtain falls tonight, the boy will die. Warren here will handle it."

Crowley's eyes widened a little, taking in the bodyguard. "You'll kill him?"

"I'll kill him," Lucifer said coldly, in tones like winter. "The show will end my way, and if it does not, Sam's sweet little lover will have hell to pay."