In which Lucifer comes home early and it's a damn good thing.
As it turned out, that party would be Sam and Gabriel's last official outing, at least for a while.
In the week following alone, Gabriel had blacked out four times-three whilst out and about, and two of which were on the same day. To say Lucifer's guard was up was a massive understatement, but it was Michael's rules that irritated Gabriel the most; if he even felt the smallest bit faint, leaving the house was forbidden, and getting out of bed was highly frowned upon. It wasn't as if Gabriel himself was not slightly shaken by his recent weakness, however, when it was suggested that he have a chaperon accompany him to the bathroom, that's where he drew the line.
So, quality time was limited to Sam dropping by the Milton household, sometimes with hidden snacks. Despite the amount of complaining Gabriel did, it wasn't really that bad. Most of the time, everyone else would go out and let the two alone during Sam's visits; when someone else was home, it was usually Lucifer, who wasn't particularly bothersome, seeing as Gabriel got along with him so well, or Castiel, who was always locked away doing homework anyway.
Sam did his share of worrying-how could he not?-but Gabriel tried to deter him, insisting that it was just a bad season for him, and that the fainting spells would soon pass. It was probably bogus, but, when curled up on the couch, on the third hour of watching Star Trek reruns, cuddling is always a better option than arguing.
When the episode finally ended, Sam stretched his legs out with a groan. "You want me to go get you a glass of water or anything? I need to stretch my legs a bit and walk around."
"Yeah, but I think I'll join you." As he spoke, Gabriel stood up, arching his back until it gave a satisfying pop. "I think my butt has imprinted itself into the couch."
Sam laughed dryly, "Just don't get me into trouble with your brothers. I'd hate to be banned from the house while you're on bed rest."
"Oh please, nobody's gonna ban you; then they'd have to deal with me all the time." Gabriel waited for Sam to stand before he started for the kitchen. From the other room, he could heard a key twisting in the lock, followed by the sound of the door swinging open. "Ooooh, someone's home early!"
Sam followed Gabriel into the kitchen like an overgrown puppy. "Who do you think it is?" he asked, opening a cabinet and hunting for a glass.
"Hard to say," Gabriel took a seat at the bar, "but I doubt it's Michael or, judging by the lack of stomping, Raphael. My money's on Luci or one of the younger ones."
"Gabriel," Lucifer called after a moment, confirming his brother's suspicions, "You up? Is Sam still here?"
Sam set the glass on the counter, "Yeah, still here. We're taking a water break, because I'm pretty sure we were both starting to grow into the couch."
Lucifer chuckled, joining the two in the kitchen, "Sounds like the day's been pretty uneventful then. Have either of you eaten?" He leaned against the countertop, setting his satchel down at his feet.
"Not really," Gabriel replied, shrugging his shoulders, "not much variety in our fridge these days."
"Well, nobody else will be home for a while," Lucifer smiled slightly, "how about I order some pizza?" And, oh, how Gabriel's face lit up.
Sam, naturally, grinned, "I think pizza sounds like a great idea. What's your favorite kind, hm?" He glanced in Gabriel's direction.
"Pepperoni, pineapple, and garlic," Gabriel replied without hesitation and snagged the phone, handing it to his brother. Lucifer, in turn, nodded and dialed. "Any requests, Sam?"
"That sounds good, actually." Sam leaned against the counter and took a sip of his water. "Add a little bit of Feta cheese to it, and it'll be perfect."
Gabriel gave a satisfied grunt, and his stomach did the rest of the talking.
And it would seem that Lucifer was just fine with the choices, as he ordered exactly that.
"So," after hanging up the phone, Lucifer glanced over at the tv, "Star Trek reruns?"
"Yup, not much else on," Gabriel sighed softly, spinning around in his chair, "how was class?"
"Long," came the response, "but okay. At least we got out early today, for once."
"Which class?" Sam plopped down on the sofa with his glass and curled both hands around it.
"Pathology," he replied, taking a step towards the couch, "we have a lab next class, that's probably why we got out early," Lucifer rolled his eyes, "to give us more time for research."
"Research?" Sam leaned forwards, interested, "What's your project about?"
"It's not a project so much as gathering information on the diseases we're taking a look at during the lab." Lucifer shrugged, "should be interesting, but the preparation is going to be a bitch."
"That's what she said!" Gabriel called from the kitchen.
Sam laughed and raised an eyebrow at Lucifer, "Are you sure you couldn't have gotten the Gypsies to take him when he was a kid?"
"No luck," Lucifer answered, "he was far too short."
"Hey! They wouldn't accept you either," Gabriel shot back, "too ugly."
He earned an amused chuckle from his older brother, "Maybe so but, should they come back now, they would realize they made a mistake. You, on the other hand, are still exceptionally short."
Gabriel simply stuck his tongue out.
Sam stood up, empty glass in hand and, on the way to the sink, wrapped an arm around Gabriel's shoulders, "No worries, you know I like you this way. Your sense of humor, on the other hand…"
"Is my best quality, I know, I know," Gabriel inserted, grinning up at Sam.
Lucifer rolled his eyes, "Call me when the pizza gets here; I'll leave some cash by the door to pay the guy. In the mean time, I have some things to attend to." He nodded at Sam, then headed up the stairs.
"I think we scared your brother off." Sam nuzzled the top of Gabriel's head. "Then again, we are pretty despicable. I'm surprised anyone can be in the same room as the two of us."
"Speak for yourself," the smaller man replied, "I'm charming, and everyone wants to be in the same general area as me!"
Sam shook his head. "You're ridiculous. I take it you're feeling better?"
"Yeah, a bit," Gabriel yawned, leaning against Sam, "looking forward to that pizza."
"Good," Sam responded, "glad Luce got your favorite then. Smothered in anchovies." He grinned down at the top of Gabriel's head.
"I'll smother you in anchovies, college boy!" Gabriel hissed, burying his face in Sam's chest. Then, he tugged away, eyes bright. "Sammy, you know what we could do instead of Star Trek? You could have Luce set up that new game you wanted to play so bad!"
Sam's face lit up. "You," he started, "sometimes have the best ideas. When he gets out from wherever he ran off to, I'll ask him. Then, I'll kick your butt all over the room."
Gabriel held his hands up, "Whoaaa, watch out, we got a badass in here!" He chuckled and headed for the couch.
"Damn right," Sam trailed after him, "I'll show you that side of me as soon as we pop it in."
Gabriel plopped down, snorting, "Whatever you say, Sam."
"You know I'm right. My reflexes are outstanding."
"Maybe so, but, you know what they say about the big ones," Gabriel smirked playfully, "they always fall the hardest! I hope you're well prepared for defeat." He then proceeded to pat his person, no doubt looking for something, as if his comeback had reminded him, regardless of its relevance. "Dammit, I always do this-get all nice and comfy, only to forget something important, like water. I'll be right back!"
After a few embarrassingly pitiful attempts to roll off of the couch, Gabriel finally made it to his feet and headed back to the kitchen, no doubt in search of something to drink. At the same moment, there was a knock at the door, announcing the long-awaited arrival of pizza.
Sam eased up off the couch and grabbed the wad of dollar bills Lucifer had left on the table beside the door, opening said door with a grin. "That didn't take long," holding out the money with one hand, he finagled the boxes onto his other arm, "keep the change."
The delivery boy thanked him and headed back to his car.
As Sam shut the door and stabilized the pizza boxes in his arms, his announcement regarding the arrival of food was interrupted by the shattering of a glass.
Sam set the pizza on the table and called out, "Gabriel? You alright in there?" Upon receiving no answer, he bit the inside of his cheek and jogged into the kitchen.
Gabriel was unmoving on the floor, broken glass in a puddle of water a short distance away. A startled sound escaped Sam's throat, and, somehow retaining some shred of composure, he knelt to the floor, turning Gabriel over onto his back. He held his hand near Gabriel's mouth; no air fluttered against his palm. Swallowing impending panic, he felt for a pulse.
Nothing.
"Lucifer!" Sam yelled, "He's not breathing! I-I can't find a pulse!" His breath came out in shaky pants as he cradled Gabriel to his person, tears threatening his vision. "N-No, no," he whimpered, "no, no, no. Please, y-you...you can't leave me, not now. Wake up, w-wake up..." He touched his forehead to the other man's ashen face and continued to blubber, rocking him a little, shaking him even. "Lu-Lucifer!"
"What's going on?" Only having caught the tail end of Sam's cries, Lucifer appeared in the kitchen doorway alarmed and confused. It took him less than a second to register the nature of Sam's stance and snap into action.
"Shit. Okay, Sam, listen to me," he knelt down beside the nineteen-year-old, firmly pressing a hand to his back, "I need to go grab the defibrillator. While I do that, I need you to try and revive him. Are you familiar with CPR?" Lucifer was scarily calm, speaking quickly but clearly in Sam's ear; this couldn't have been the first he'd gone through the same motions.
"A-a little," Sam looked up, "I-I've never h-had any training though," he choked a little, "I d-don't want to hurt him."
"All I need you to do is put one hand here on his chest, and put your other hand on top of that hand," Lucifer pulled Gabriel from Sam's arms and laid him down, then tugged on the brunet's wrists to get him into position, "keep your elbows straight, shoulders above your hands, and apply pressure, about a hundred compressions per minute. Don't worry about hurting him, just keep it up. I'll be right back." As soon as he was certain Sam was as situated as he was going to get, Lucifer took off up the stairs, on a mad hunt for the AED defibrillator.
Eyes brimming with tears, Sam did as he was shown. He tried to keep up a rhythm like he'd seen in numerous hospital dramas with Dean, but, in the end, his movements were jerky and sporadic. All the while, he kept up the litany of, "Come on, come on, please, I n-need you to wake up, please, Gabriel, come on," as if it would be of any real help to anyone other than himself.
Lucifer reappeared a moment later, a small red case under his arm. Kneeling down, he nudged Sam aside with a reassuring, "Good, you did just fine," and began setting up.
As he switched the defibrillator on and jerked his brother's shirt open, popping the majority of the buttons off, Lucifer handed Sam the phone, "The paramedics are on the way, they should only be a few minutes. Get back." He then proceeded to position the paddles on Gabriel's chest-one at the left collarbone, the other just below the right side of the chest itself-and scoot back, pressing a button to activate analysis. The machine made a noise and, taking a breath, Lucifer pressed a second button, igniting a shock.
Just following the shock, Lucifer hovered over his younger brother and began CPR, counting to thirty under his breath. He continued this process for almost two minutes before igniting another shock, then immediately returned to CPR.
It took a third attempt before there were any obvious signs of life, and, by the time Lucifer went about checking Gabriel's vitals, the twenty-three-year-old was sputtering and sucking in short, ragged breaths.
"Th-Third time's a charm," Lucifer heaved humorlessly, drawing Gabriel to his chest.
Sam shuffled around to Gabriel's other side, taking hold of his limp arm like a child might grab a comfort object. He pressed his face to the back of other man's shoulder, trying to catch his breath. "Y-You scared the sh-shit out of me, man," he whispered, his voice scratchy from crying, "I just...g-god...I...I love you, I do..." it felt good to finally say it, even given the circumstances, "so, s-so much…"
Despite the fact that Gabriel probably wasn't alert enough to hear Sam, Lucifer didn't say anything. When it came down to it, he was experiencing the exact same flow of relief; he simply chose to be less audible about it.
As the distant sound of sirens started to get closer, Lucifer took a moment to switch off the defibrillator and separate it from his brother. Then, he stood, Gabriel in his arms, and shuffled towards the front of the house, his legs much shakier than he was willing to admit.
However, before they made it out the door and to the ambulance, Lucifer turned to Sam, who was following close behind, and nodded.
"You did good."
