A/N Last chapter. Big reveal and guest appearance at the end. No, it wasn't all a dream. :-)

Chapter Seven

"Hold it a little higher, Timmy," Abby ordered. Tim stretched his arms up, holding red-white-and-blue bunting above the glass wall into Abby's office. She was checking all of her sight-lines to be sure the decorations wouldn't hinder her. Tim had been helping now for over an hour after he was off the clock. His shoulders ached and his still-healing ribs kept him breathing shallowly. "Do you think the bunting is too much? The streamers and bows are pretty good on their own."

"You think of this now? Abs, c'mon, the Admiral and Colonel from Okinawa are used to pomp. Let's just finish, okay?" Tim could hear the whiney edge to his own voice but he didn't care at this point. 'Give me a hand for a second' had gone too far. He was tired. His body ached. He wanted to go home to Sam and Jethro. The old dog seemed happier than ever spending all his time with Sam.

"Just a few more, Timmy!"

Tim sighed.

Ten minutes later, holding the end of an eight foot banner so high he was on his tiptoes, a wave of cold washed through him and he screamed hoarsely. A flash of memory overwhelmed him; seeing the blonde wood swinging toward him, hearing the thump, accompanied by a sickening pop of his ribs. He collapsed to his knees, struggling not to vomit as terror and pain flooded through him. An image of the killer, shoving the end of the bat into his stomach, his eyes wild, blinked into his mind, followed by more shivering nausea.

Frantically, Abby called for Ducky only to find he had already left. Jimmy rushed up instead and between the two of them they got the hyperventilating Tim onto the couch in Abby's office, had him breathing into a bag, and called Sam. The rest of the team had gone home so they stayed close, Abby pushing Bert into his arms and Jimmy covering his trembling body with a blanket. Abby called the gate to warn them Sam was coming and they waited tensely for his arrival.

Sam's escort through the building ran to keep up with his rapid strides. Sam's face was pale and he rushed over to Tim as if pulled to his side, ignoring everything else.

Abby and Jimmy stood back and watched in shock as Tim began recovering almost instantly with Sam beside him. The tall man knelt and touched Tim's face and Tim took a deep inhale, then his breathing normalized. He dropped the bag he'd been intermittently breathing into, dropped Bert, and nearly rolled off the couch reaching for Sam. Sam caught him and held him, whispering quietly, and in less than a minute, Tim was on his feet. Sam held him tight against his side and they slowly began to walk out.

"Timmy, I'm so sorry - "

"Later please, Abby," Sam interrupted. They went into the elevator and on toward home.

Tim felt exhausted, like he had run a marathon on two days of no sleep. He yawned hugely in the car more than once, and his brain felt sluggish. At home, Sam tried to get him to eat but he could only manage a few bites before he set his fork down. Tempting him, Sam got him to eat a Nutter Butter and then they went to bed early. In a surreal fog, Tim let Sam undress him and they lay down. When Tim began shivering, Sam tucked the comforter close around them and drew Tim tight against his chest. The shivering subsided as Tim fell asleep, only to return after each nightmare which woke him, pain and fear causing him to call out for Sam.

"You're safe, I'm here," Sam repeated over and over. Tim would settle, shaking, and fall back into his nightmare, waking them both again and again. It was less restful than simply staying awake, and at 5:30, Sam decided action needed to be taken.

"Tim, baby, we've gotta do something. I'm gonna call Jethro," Sam said quietly. Tim jerked in his arms.

"No! Sam, you cannot tell Gibbs. Please. It'll pass," Tim shook his head violently.

"Baby, it's flashbacks. It's your memory coming back. You've gotta deal with this. He'll understand."

"No. Promise me you won't tell him. You can't tell him. Please, Sam, please. Promise me. Promise!"

Sam sighed. He'd dealt with Dean's sometimes unreasonable stubbornness so long that this felt disturbingly familiar. Tim normally kept a very clear head and was extremely rational, so Sam knew this was the fear, exhaustion, and stress talking. He nodded to calm Tim's frantic begging.

"Okay, Tim. I won't call Gibbs. Relax, baby. It's okay," Sam soothed him and when Tim's eyes closed, his breathing deepened again, his body desperate for rest which Sam knew wouldn't come. "Hey, why don't you take a shower. You were sweating alot last night. Maybe hot water and some food will help you shake this. I'll make coffee, okay?"

Tim's thoughts were still jumbled, but Sam's reasoning seemed sound so he nodded and let himself be pushed gently toward the bathroom.

Sam started the coffee then picked up his phone. He would honor his words not to call Jethro. He wasn't the right person to call, anyway. He looked up the contact he wanted and punched the button.

"Getz," a voice answered quickly. The connection had static and was a little broken, but Sam sighed in relief at the sound of the psychologist's voice. He explained what had happened in the lab and how badly the night had gone.

"Okay, Sam. You did the right thing calling me. Unfortunately I'm out of the country. I know Tim's NCIS psych file, though, so I'm gonna refer you to a guy who specializes in crisis counselling who Tim has met before. His name is Miles Wolf. I'm gonna call Agent Gibbs and let him know what's going on. This isn't unexpected, Sam. I'm actually glad it happened in such a controlled environment rather than in the field. He's gonna get better. Just do what Wolf says. I'll tell him about you, about how close you are with Tim. Relax, Sam. It's gonna be okay," Nate said. Sam hung on every staticky word and nodded slowly.

"Thanks, Nate. Really... Thanks," Sam mumbled.

"Sam, you are incredible with Tim. Supportive but not smothering, protective but not overbearing. Your relationship is one of the healthiest I've ever seen with a field agent. Keep doing what you've been doing, and this will be over as quickly as it can be."

"Okay. Thanks."

"Bye."

Sam hung up. He looked toward the bedroom door and saw Tim standing there with a towel wrapped around his waist, a shocked and hurt look on his drawn face.

"I didn't call Gibbs," Sam rushed to reassure him.

Tim relaxed marginally. "Who then? Tony?"

"Hell no. Nate."

Tim frowned and nodded. "And?"

"And he wants you to see a guy named Wolf. Said you know him."

Tim scowled. "One evaluation doesn't mean I know him or that he knows me."

"Nate says he's a specialist. Said he's the best person to get you through this as fast as possible," Sam said warily. Mentioning getting over it quickly was the key. Tim relaxed further and nodded.

"Let's go see him."

"Hang on. Go get dressed. It's 6 am, we're gonna hafta wait. I'm gonna make you some eggs, and you're going to eat them."

Tim made a stubborn face which looked amazingly like a pouty nine year old, and Sam kept a straight face just long enough for him to turn around to go back into the bedroom as ordered before breaking into a smile. It was the same face Sarah had made when she'd come to Tim for help and found Sam.

Tim was still pouting as he came out, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, and sat down at the counter to wait obediently for the eggs Sam was cooking.

"You know, I was perfectly happy with my traumatic amnesia," Tim said sulkily. Sam turned from plating the eggs and stared at Tim, his eyebrows raised. Sam's lips twitched and that set Tim off, giggling at the absurdity of his statement. His phone buzzing with a call sobered Tim instantly.

"Damnit," Tim muttered. His caller ID read Gibbs. Sam looked at the phone.

"Nate must have called him. He had to find out, Tim. It's gonna be fine. Go ahead and talk to him."

"McGee," Tim answered. Sam waited while he listened. "Okay. Yeah." Tim nodded. "Thanks, boss." He disconnected. Sam waited. "You're right. He's not mad, just concerned. But I feel like... Like I've disappointed him," his voice hitched. Sam knew that Tim was feeling completely raw and vulnerable after the ordeal of his flashback and the night of broken sleep. His normally pale skin was translucent, the tiny blue veins visible, his eyes sunken and hollow. The weight he'd lost in the last month during his recovery made him appear positively fragile. Sam carefully gathered him close and held him. He shook with the need to shelter Tim, to do whatever he could to make him feel better. Right then that meant telling him what Sam knew to be an unspoken truth.

"Jethro cares so much about you, baby. He wants you to be healthy, and while he misses you when you can't work at full capability, he'd rather you get well."

"How do you know?" Tim's words were muffled against Sam's neck and he sounded exhausted.

"I've gotten a really good read on him, Tim. I can see right through him." Sam's statements were true. Jethro's behavior with Tim as well as the look in the gruff and taciturn man's eyes had spoken volumes for Sam.

"Well, he said we've got an appointment with Wolf at ten, downtown," Tim said.

"Then take your time eating while I shower," Sam instructed. Tim nodded and sat down, his shoulders slumping again. Sam shook his head and went to get himself ready. Before he undressed, he prayed quietly, asking for Cas' help, unsure if the angel would be able to do anything for Tim's PTSD. But he didn't appear, and Sam determined he'd see Tim through this himself, whatever it took.

~~~SPNCIS~~~

"So the 'pensive academic' went out of his comfort zone and took an undercover assignment. That's splendid!" Wolf said, referring to the so-called tribal name from his psych file, as he walked into the office and sat down.

"There's nothing splendid about this, doctor," Sam growled. He sat close beside Tim on the plush loveseat. They'd barely had introductions before Tim insisted they get started.

"Right. Of course. Sorry. Now let me tell you: Dr Getz was very impressed with your relationship; with the bond you have." Tim glanced at Sam and the stress lines on his face softened.

"That's because we're great together. The - the little bit of memory that's come back... Of, um, what are we gonna call this? My abduction? That time I was beaten with a baseball bat?" Tim tried for levity but Sam saw his hands shaking, so he took one in his. Again, Tim reacted. The slump his shoulders had taken vanished and he sat comfortably straight.

"How about your torture?" Wolf suggested. Tim tensed and took a deep breath.

"Considering the reaction I just had to that word, that's probably appropriate. So in the memory of...my torture, I recall withdrawing into thoughts of Sam."

"Your self-awareness is good. It reinforces my plan for the type of therapy I want to try. Your relationship and the reactions I have already observed regarding Sam will mesh well also. Let me explain somatic experiencing," the doctor said. Describing how he would gently lead Tim into describing the physical sensations his traumatic memories elicited, then draw him back into safe, positive thoughts with resources they would identify. They worked for a few minutes on finding positive relationships, experiences, and locations, but Wolf eventually frowned that every way he questioned Tim brought the agent right to Sam.

"Doc, I have other people who support me, but Sam is the one who makes the good things great and the bad things better. I can only imagine that when I was a baby I felt the comfort and security I feel when I'm in Sam's arms as I did when my mother held me. It's that deep, that fundamental. This... This memory recall, these flashbacks... It's the worst experience of my life other than when I almost lost Sam. So forgive me if he's the ultimate safe place for my mind when I'm going through this!"

Wolf eventually conceded, and they worked out the vocabulary they'd use and touched lightly on the way the sessions would go.

"Alright, then. I think three sessions a week will be - "

"What?" Tim interrupted. "No. Let's do this now, let's get it done. I need to be able to work." Sam took his hand as Tim leaned forward aggressively and his voice grew louder.

"Tim, this is therapy, not a magic bullet. It is a process which will take however long it takes," Wolf said smoothly.

"No. No, Nate told Sam..." Tim turned to Sam, panic rising. "You said..."

Sam brought his hand up and gently laid it on Tim's flushed cheek, staring directly into his eyes. Tim felt himself relax, everything else vanishing except for Sam. Tears filled his eyes at the unending love, compassion, and support he read in his lover's expression, and he sighed in resignation.

Wolf observed closely, enthralled by the interaction. It felt voyeuristic to see the intimate exchange, but the intensity of the moment precluded him looking away.

They made an appointment for the following day, Wolf gave Tim a prescription for a sleep aid, and the couple went home. Tim took one of the pills and Sam held him until it took effect and it became apparent that Tim would get his much needed rest as he sank into a deep slumber.

Sam called Jethro and briefly informed him about the rest of their morning.

"Vance gave him leave the rest of this week and all of next. After that he'll be back on desk duty until Wolf gives the okay to go back in the field. Maybe the ribs'll be better by then, too," Gibbs said.

"You noticed they're still tender, huh? Yeah, the bone bruises are still rough, too," Sam nodded. Gibbs watched Tim so closely he wasn't surprised at the observation.

"I know you'll take care of him," Gibbs replied. "When he's able, get him working out, too. He's gotten too skinny."

"I know. I will."

"Keep me updated."

"I will. Thanks, Jethro."

"Uh-huh."

~~~SPNCIS~~~

The sessions with Wolf were exhausting, and both Tim and Sam were grateful for the pills which allowed Tim to rest without the nightmares. They enjoyed spending all their time together again, and Tim began to encourage Sam to start doing career and employment tests online. Sam had confessed how difficult it was for him when Tim was away, even if only for a normal work day, and they bounced job ideas off each other at random intervals.

"Teacher."

"Lawyer."

"Bodyguard."

"Private Investigator."

"Work for Krista."

"Dog walker."

"EMT."

"Docent at a museum."

"Coach."

"Hey, baby, this one came up with the same thing as the last two," Sam called. Tim was in the kitchen making lunch while Sam completed a thousand question employment quiz.

"Yeah? What do you think? I love the idea," Tim said.

"You just want me on a calendar."

"Hell, yeah!"

Sam shook his head, smiling, then entered a search on his computer: 'How to become a firefighter'.

They went to see the Admiral every few days, Tim continuing to insist that Sam accompany him. John McGee stubbornly refused to spend time in the bed and was always in the recliner when they visited. Sam he mostly ignored, but Tim didn't avoid talking about them or their relationship if it came up in conversation. The Admiral did seem to have either taken Sam's words to heart about getting to know his son or he felt the proverbial scythe over his head and chose it himself. He asked Tim about his work, mostly, and he seemed genuinely interested in Tim's responses. His health remained tenuous, but Tim commented once on their way home that the man was too stubborn to die on someone else's schedule.

When Tim was back to desk work, Sam started checking off every suggestion he could find online for getting a job as a firefighter. He began volunteering at several places; a local youth center, one of the hospitals, and an animal shelter. Beginning EMT training and voraciously studying everything he could find about the firefighting industry filled his days with activities other than pining over Tim and working out, and Tim marveled at the change in Sam's demeanor. He laughed more, was more relaxed and just generally content.

When Dean visited while he was on his way back from a hunt in New York state, he commented once to Tim that he hadn't ever seen Sam look so happy.

"I don't think you ever said you wanted to be a fireman when you were a kid, Sammy," Dean said over several beers as the brothers spent time alone before Dean left for Kansas.

"Yeah, I know. But it just feels right, y'know? Helping people... That's what we were raised to do. This is just the mundane world version of it."

"Huh. Well, whatever, dude," Dean shrugged. He took a long pull from his bottle. "I, uh, saw Cas."

Sam's breath caught. It had been months since either of them had seen the angel. He saw the tension in Dean's shoulders and played it cool.

"Yeah? How's he doin'?"

"Alright, I guess. He's been in Heaven, atoning or some such shit. So the stick is partway back up his ass."

Sam tried not to smile at the snide, innuendo laden response that ran through his mind. He took another drink instead.

"He say how things are...up there?"

"Sounds like some bureaucratic shuffling's happening, but nothing dramatic. He said he'd be, uh, listening, if we need him, but his place is there while they get their shit together. I don't know. It was awkward."

"But you saw him. That's a good first step."

"First step toward what, Sammy?" Dean demanded. Sam raised his hands placatingly.

"Toward having your best friend back, Dean. That's what I told him you wanted when I talked to him before he left."

Dean's aggression subsided.

"How's Benny?"

"Still in Louisiana. He's working in a friggin' diner. Finally admitted he's watching over his grand-daughter who runs the place."

"His granddaughter? As in..."

"His kid's kid, yeah, from before he was turned into a vamp."

"Wow. That's...weird."

"Uh-huh."

They drank in companionable silence after that. Sitting in the familiar passenger seat of the Impala when Dean pulled up to drop Sam off at the apartment, Sam wasn't surprised that Dean relaxed and finally commented on how Sam seemed. He always felt the most comfortable in the safety of the car.

"You know that'll always be your spot, man. But, uh, I'm glad you're happy here, Sammy."

"Thanks, Dean. You just...be careful out there," Sam replied quietly. He couldn't bring himself to admit just how much he worried about this brother hunting on his own. He was extremely relieved that Cas was making himself available for back-up again, finally.

"Eh, where's the fun in that?" Came the cocky reply as Sam got out of the car.

Sam smiled.

~~~SPNCIS~~~

"That sucked," Sam snarled as they walked into the apartment. Sam chucked his keys onto the counter and turned to face Tim. Tim closed the door and looked at him questioningly.

"What did you expect me to do? It worked," Tim said defensively. On their way back from one of Tim's last therapy sessions, Tim had made an illegal turn and been pulled over. The cute female cop had taken a shine to Tim's "pretty eyes", and had smiled and shuffled her feet and hinted that maybe she'd let him go with a warning for his number.

"Seeing you flirt with someone else... I wanted to hit something," Sam declared. His jaw was clenched, lips pressed tight. He looked like a fierce thundercloud. Tim tried not to smile. Sam's frown deepened as Tim's mouth twitched and the twinkle in his eye grew more and more obvious with his amusement. Sam's nostrils flared and his eyes opened wide then narrowed. "Tim..." Sam growled warningly. Tim let the impish grin take over and he laughed when Sam grabbed him by the shoulders, looking murderous.

"You're totally jealous," Tim finally chortled. Sam huffed like a bull and stared daggers into Tim's sparkling eyes.

"Tim!" Sam's voice cracked like a whip.

Tim's expression grew gentler, and his smile became sweet. He brought his hands up to touch Sam's face, long fingers stroking the knotted muscles. "Thank you," Tim whispered. Sam's grip on Tim loosened and he swallowed hard. "Even after all we've been through, to have you get this upset, this worked up, because I flirted with some woman... It reminds me what I mean to you, Sam."

"You... You say I'm yours. When we're in bed, you say it a lot. Tim... I am yours, but, baby, you're mine, too," Sam's voice was a hoarse whisper. There was a desperate need in his eyes, and Tim's gaze softened further. "I've known from the first time we hooked up in your hotel room that I belonged to you, but damnit, Tim, you're mine. You belong to me... Don't you?"

Tim leaned close to Sam, gazing up into his eyes from a breath away. "Of course I'm yours, Sam. Always, only yours."

Sam closed the distance and kissed him hard, wrapping his arms tightly around him. Tim slipped his arms around Sam's waist and let himself be possessed.

Sam's tongue was insistent but languorous as he kissed Tim, and Tim surrendered completely. Relaxing, pliant in Sam's embrace, Tim immersed in the sensuality of utter abandon. Sam held him firmly, kissing him long and thoroughly, and when he finally broke off, found Tim in a nearly mindless state of arousal. Lips parted, cheeks flushed, his eyes closed and his head tilted back, awaiting the return of Sam's attentions; Tim's acceptance of Sam's assertiveness was total. Sam kissed him again, feeling Tim stroke his back lightly, not passively submitting, but instead subtly encouraging. Tim arched his back, pressing himself against Sam, and Sam held him tighter.

Wanting to explore this new experience fully, Sam bent his knees and shifted his grip on Tim, lifting him up. Tim immediately responded, hopping up and locking his legs around Sam's waist, holding onto him, making it as easy as possible for Sam to carry him into the bedroom.

Sam laid Tim on the bed and stood beside it, watching. Tim looked up at him with the tiniest smile, waiting.

"Anything you want, Sam. I'm yours," Tim said softly. Sam unfastened his shirt, letting it fall to the floor, then climbed onto the bed. He pulled Tim's shirt off, then settled himself on top of him. The heat of their bare skin brought Sam back from the dream-like state he'd fallen into, to a more carnal and demanding one. He kissed Tim again, harder, and moved on to his neck, nipping hard enough to leave red marks as he moved down. At the hollow of Tim's throat and across his clavicles, he left darker marks, giving Tim a necklace of bruising hickeys. Tim moaned and ran his hands up and down Sam's sides and back. His head tossed restlessly, and his hips rocked against Sam.

Pulling up, Sam studied Tim, noting how their breathing was tandem; heavy and rapid. The blush on Tim's pale skin was gorgeous, and coupled with the moist plushness of Tim's mouth, Sam shook with his need for him.

"Oh, god," Sam revered. "Mine, mine."

Tim's clear eyes opened and his breath hitched at the wondering expression on Sam's face.

"Of course, my sweet, sweet Sam. My love. Only yours," Tim whispered, and Sam kissed him again.

They rode the fervid waves, emotion matching the physical responses as kissing and touching, tasting and stroking brought them both to tears with the depth of feeling they provoked.

Eventually, stripped naked literally and figuratively, Sam rolled over, pulling Tim on top of him. He blindly retrieved the lube from the nightstand and single-handedly used it on Tim, then raised his knees. Tim smoothly obeyed the unspoken direction and pushed into him. Their eyes locked and the moment suspended. Lighter eyes searched darker, and were in turn studied; what they found was a bottomless well of acceptance and desire, companionship and complete understanding. Two bodies moved in total rapport, a single entity. Nothing else existed.

Sensation built and plateaued and built again. It wasn't a calculated marathon of intercourse as they'd occasioned previously; it was ascension to a level of unification and ecstatic pleasure untoward. The tension mounted to a fevered, sobbing desperation; when the release began, they were transported, transcendent. The pleasure went on and on, shredding the last vestiges of individuality, bonding them more profoundly than any life-threatening experience or physical contact had previously.

Returning to some semblance of a normal, individual state was incremental for Sam. Light registered first, its source down and to his right. A doorway. A scent...commingled sweat and an aftershave that brought with it a plethora of happy impressions. Pressure. A warm weight across his body; a beloved sensation. The sighing of breath, not his own, but precious all the same. Arms, languid and fatigued, tightened on the man atop him. Tim. His Timothy McGee.

The squeeze of strong arms around him brought Tim out of his endorphin haze. "Oh, Sam," he sighed. Sam's legs shifted, dropping down, stretching out flat on the bed and Tim moved, getting himself into a more comfortable position resting on Sam's firm chest. He was shaken to his core by what they had experienced. He slowly raised his head to look at Sam. His expression was heartbreakingly raw. "I never knew... Sam, I've been yours since our first kiss, since Stanford, no, before - Arizona... I've needed you like air since then. I'm yours, utterly, always, love. Always."

Sam tightened his arms around Tim. Finally. He finally had something perfect and precious, this man, brilliant and loving and strong and sensual... And his. His own. His everything.

Tim watched Sam succumb to sleep, a smile on his lips, and Tim melted back down onto his lover, slipping gently into slumber right behind him.

~~~SPNCIS~~~

Sam fell asleep, more content than he had ever imagined...

...and found himself sitting up in a horribly familiar motel room with Asia playing on the ancient clock radio.

"No!" He cried, terrified beyond reason that he had been thrown back to that Tuesday, that terrible, repeated, 'Groundhog Day' Tuesday years ago, with Dean dying over and over, destined for hell, and Tim far away in DC, oblivious, not his, never knowing...

"Relax, Sammykins," a perky voice said. "Just a dream."

Sam turned his head slowly, his whole body quaking hard enough to make the bed creak. The archangel Gabriel, once known to Sam as the Trickster, stood by the door with an impish smirk on his face. "Congratulations! You've finally completed the bond with - "

"What are we doing here?" Sam demanded. His terror made him aggressive and his voice boomed through the small space.

"What? Oh, I just figured a little familiarity so you'd recognize – Never mind," the archangel snapped his fingers and immediately looked around in distaste. They stood together in the middle of Tim's apartment. "Really? I let your mind pick anyplace, specifying only that you feel comfortable and safe, and a crappy one bedroom in Silver Spring is it?" He shook his head. "Whatever. I guess it just reinforces what I'm here to tell you anyway."

Sam relaxed, immediately comforted by the familiar surroundings, light-headed with relief that he was here...home. "Gabriel, but you're - "

"Dead? Yeah, that sucks. Didn't see that one coming." He snapped and created a lush velvet chair then dropped into it.

"Then how - "

"I put a little piece of me into your brain, Samsquatch, so I could make the big reveal in person. Sort of." He shrugged, then spread his arms in a grandiose gesture. "I am your benefactor. I have given you the chance lovers and poets throughout the ages have dreamt about - "

"Yeah, you shot me and Tim with cupid's arrows. I know that," Sam interrupted. "I'm not mad - "

"Mad?! I give you the chance for a true soulmate and you 'aren't mad'?!" Gabriel shook his head. "You are one lucky little pissant human, you know? If I was actually here, not just a figment..."

"No, I'm grateful, Gabriel, I truly am. Tim is..." His expression softened and his mind continued the sentence: sweet, beautiful, sexy, smart, perfect...

"Oh please don't wax poetic! I searched hearts and minds the world over - and beyond - for him. I know what he means to you, SammySam, and now you do, too." The angel's head bobbed in his excitement.

"Huh?"

"If you'd have let me finish! You've finally accepted the bond between you."

"The bond made by cupid's arrows?"

"No! The arrows make you fall in love, they don't dictate what you do about it," Gabriel huffed.

"Gabriel, what are you talking about?!" Sam was getting frustrated as always with the snarky little archangel.

Gabriel shook his head and looked to the heavens. "You! That big brain hidden in that cro-magnon skull of yours finally accepted and internalized that Tim belongs to you as much as you belong to him! I put the possibility in place that if you could love him enough, and accept his love, you'd become soulmates."

Sam stared at him, eyes and mind full of emotion. His chest tightened. That meant so much... It meant that Tim was his forever, that if they both went to Heaven when they died, they'd be together, that he was truly never going to be alone again...

"Why?" The question came out in a breathy whisper.

Gabriel's expression darkened. "What?"

"Why did you do this for me? I-I can't ever repay a debt like this..."

The archangel's shoulders relaxed and the twinkle returned to his eye. "What do you mean, why?"

"Why me?"

The angel's expression grew as thoughtful as it ever got. "Maybe because you saved my brothers. Lucifer and Michael didn't kill each other because of you. Maybe because you give up everything for everyone else at every opportunity, never even considering that you deserve to have love and life more than other humans because you do care so much. Maybe because I care, too, somehow, more than I should." He shook his head then shrugged. "Sometimes, you get what you deserve, Sammy. In a good way."

"And him being a guy..."

Gabriel rolled his eyes theatrically. "What part of 'searched the world over' don't you - oh, never mind. So his body has a penis instead of ovaries: so what? And you haven't even noticed the changes I made so you're perpetually all squeaky-clean, have you? You could even thank me for all the mind-blowing sex you two have had...well, that's mostly just you two, but still," he sighed heavily, shaking his head. "Neither one of you needs anyone to be whole. You're each balanced: strength, heart, mind. You're more like a matched set: instead of a fraction and a fraction making one, you are one and one equaling two! You get to go out in the world together and instead of just more of the same, you'll increase everyone you come in contact with. Now that you're together, you..." His eyes were alight and he spread his hands again, this time to indicate the endless possibilities.

Sam swallowed hard. "And Dean-"

"Ugh! Dean! You are not responsible for him! He is not responsible for you! Everyone makes their own choices. He needs to go his own way, do his own thing, find out who he is, and you can't do that for him. In fact, you getting out of his way might even help him."

"But he'll be alone-"

"Dean's only alone if he chooses it. He's got his own little guardian angel, and his pet vampire: everybody loves the tortured soul that is Dean. He has support. He always has had. You're the one who only had him. He made sure of that."

Sam paled. "What do you mean?"

"Hello? Dysfunctional Dean has sabotaged every chance of a normal life you've ever had. All the while saying he wants you to grow old and have a family. Believe-you-me, he has a better chance at finding an authentic life of his own without you around all the time."

Sam just stared at him, and then the concern over his brother became rapidly eclipsed by the transcendent joy that Tim was his, forever. And this obnoxious little guy was responsible for that.

"Obnoxious! Hrmph," Gabriel grumbled. "And anyway, before you go all gushy, I just gave you the opportunity. You had the courage and heart to follow through."

Overwhelmed, Sam dropped to his knees in front of the velvet chair and looked up into the honey brown eyes, so filled with unnamable emotions that Sam was nearly speechless. "Gabriel, I..."

A light was beginning to glow from the angel, glorious wings of golden light spreading behind him, washing out the illusion of the apartment, opening up to encapsulate the entire metro area of Washington DC, of the eastern seaboard, of the United States, the oceans, the world...

"Good job, kiddo," Gabriel's voice whispered to him in benediction, and the love in that voice was greater than the wings, bigger than the world, more than Sam's mind could possibly comprehend...

So he woke. Tears wet the pillow under his cheek, dampening Tim's hair where he snuggled close. Sam stared at his lover, his soulmate, for a long time before he gently woke him with a kiss so he could share the revelation he'd received.

When he was done telling Tim what Gabriel had said, Tim's cheeks were wet as well, and they held each other silently.

"Soulmates, huh?" Tim finally responded. Sam tensed. "Shh, don't," he said, reassuringly stroking Sam's chest. Sam swallowed hard and consciously relaxed. "Sam... You're everything to me. I could get poetic and say it in metaphor, but plain and simple: Angels may have made me fall in love with you, but I wouldn't have it any other way. You're part of me: a consideration in every decision, every moment. This...it's actually quite freeing. It means that if something happens to either of us, it's not the end. We're assured of a bond beyond death, and since losing you has been the biggest fear of my life, well... I'm relieved."

"I love how you see things. You take in every angle, every eventuality, and in an instant, you distill it to the essential core. I'm still scared of the possibility of something happening to you, of living without you, but you're right. Knowing we'll be together after...it makes the thought bearable. I just hope neither of us have to bear it long when the time comes."

Tim shuddered. As much as he understood logically that now, with this incredible bond firm between them, it would be a temporary separation if he lost Sam, imagining it happening shook him, frightening him in a way that made him wonder if he'd long survive it. Sam tilted Tim's face up to his and looked deeply into his eyes, having felt Tim's reaction and completely empathizing with the cause.

"We can't know when one of us might have to be alone for a while, baby. Just focus on the amazing gift we've been given: the certainty of forever."

The smile Tim gave Sam was beatific. "That is amazing." He closed the distance between them, and their first kiss, both knowing they had eternity stretched out before them, was the sweetest that they had ever shared.

~~~SPNCIS~~~

The End

A/N So that's all for now. I have a bunch of 'deleted scenes' from the writing of Home, which I may post like a dvd extra (how's 'Lost Along the Way Home' sound as a title for those?), depending on if ya'll want them or not. Let me know in a review or PM and I may polish them up and post them. Otherwise, thank you all for joining me on this fun and sexy journey.

Special thanks to Crawcolady, Hostaqueen, LeeMarieJack, Eraseus, Hazelmom, 88keys, leobutler, Chococino72, Akrosin, ElSaTa, Cleartorture, gypsymooneysgirl7733, Smartkid37, tenebrae di oblio, Anake14, Emi-Lyn, shadowdweller25, silver-fairy0101, Spitfire17268, TormentedGirl, Dawnhallj, Awkwardly-graceful, Little Soldier Mine, Irstevens, 1sunfun, Mongoose Peasant, and every other view, review, favorite, and follow from now until the end, full stop!