Chapter 12

Sam was woken up by a slobbery wet tongue lapping at his face and he was pretty sure it wasn't Gabriel. Well, mostly sure it wasn't, anyway.

"Sorry…nah, not sorry," Gabriel said as Sam sputtered awake, attacked by a ferocious terrier hungry for belly rubs and morning kisses. His eyes gleamed with that familiar mischievous way as he watched Sam fight off the vicious beast enough to sit up. "Rascal wanted to say hi to Daddy #2!" He could feel Gabriel's Grace inside him-was essentially cackling deviously.

"You can just call me Sam," he reassured the canine and he scratched Rascal's back. He leaned forward and kissed Gabriel—across the bond contentment and general happiness flickered between them. He found himself peppering kisses on the archangel's lips, as if each one made the bond that thrummed deep in his bones more permanent, more tangible, and more believable. Gabriel was more than happy to oblige the hunter, reassurance ringing through the connection they shared.

Rascal let out an excited yip before jumping a few times, unable to contain his enthusiasm in his small frame. He shook and barked and his tail wagged almost fast enough to create a breeze.

"I may or may not have waxed poetic about you from time to time," Gabriel admitted with an easy grin. "So, I'm sure he's just as glad about this as we are."

"Poor bastard," Sam said in pity, scratching at the course fur between his ears as Gabriel pouted. It felt so much like a dream—finally together with Gabriel—hell he even had a dog that was his to dote on and play with! Was it really only two weeks ago that Carthage happened?

Was it really only a few days ago that he was seriously trying to kill the archangel he now found himself idly entwining their fingers together?

"Your Dad has a weird ass sense of humor," Sam mumbled, leaning in close and nibbling Gabriel's exposed neck. He hummed contently.

"Where else did you think I got my charming personality and delightful sense of humor from?"

Sam sat up and looked around the room for the first time and froze. He blinked several times in apparent confusion, which made Gabriel suddenly tense up. "Sam?"

"Oh my….Are those your wings?" Sam asked in an awed hiss.

Gabriel followed Sam's eyes as they traveled around the room, obviously looking at something with that radiant look of delight on his face. "You can see them now?"

"How can I not? They're all over the place!" Sam exclaimed.

Gabriel snorted. "You see an Archangel's wings for the first time and that's what you have to say about it? So very elegant."

Before they were wisps, barely-there mirages of smoke or fog. Now he could see the wings, and they were lazily stretched from Gabriel's back like feathered ribbons draping the bedroom. There were multiple wings, easily more than two like Dean had described seeing from Castiel. They looked like bird's wings but were also more ethereal, as if not quite there completely…?

Glass. That's what the feathers looked like, stained glass windows. There were whites that made virgin snow look yellow, browns and golds and silver and black speckles that reminded Sam of falcons and hawks, but all see-through like glass. And the size of them! Some feathers were almost as long as Sam was tall! The closest wing was draped over the bed like a blanket, and the end of the wing curled up at Sam and wiggled. It took the hunter a second to realize Gabriel was waving at him.

"They're amazing!" Sam said in awe, immediately reaching out to touch the feathers closest to him. "How in the world to do you move around with these things?" The wings easily stretched the entire length of the room.

"Just tuck them away into a little pocket dimension when I don't need them," Gabriel said with a shrug. The movement sent a ripple through the rest of the wings, and the entire room was a sea of quivering glass feathers. Sam touched the longest one and couldn't even describe it to himself—soft like down but sharp, hard like steel yet yielding like liquid. The feathers looked so fragile, yet he had no don't this was as much a weapon as anything.

Gabriel let out a little sigh, and Sam felt the thrill of touch run through the bond. "Didn't feel like tucking them away last night. It's been a while since they had a good stretch."

"What's this?" Sam said, noticing marks upon each feather that he had first assumed was the sun reflection, but the flashes of light he saw seemed steadfast even when the wings shifted. The marks almost looked like…writing? Sam had always thought the Elvin scrawl in the Tolkien books was beautiful, art in every sense of the word, but these scripts made those look like kindergartner chicken scratch. He felt this unbelievable sense of awe just looking at those odd, glowing marks.

"It's the mark of the Archangel," Gabriel said easily. "Father's Commands are etched into every feather. We are literally Dad's messengers, after all."

"Oh, my…so, this is the Bible? The original one?"

"That's just one of many human translations, Sam. This is Dad Himself, transcribed fully when he was creating Creation itself." A wing from the other end of the bed curled up towards Sam with the same boneless movement like an octopus's tentacle, and showed him a stretch of feather. "That was Dad on Day 5 swearing because he couldn't figure out what color to make the sky, and what color to make the grass. He changed his mind a few times about it."

Sam blinked at his mate. "That's God swearing?"

"Dad had a mouth that could make a sailing sea-whore blush," Gabriel said with a twinkle in his eyes.

"…you're shitting me."

"I am shitting you not, actually."

Sam knew that there was no way to ever know if Gabriel was telling the truth or not, but he still laughed at the idea of God getting frustrating putting the Earth together like some piece of furniture from Ikea.

He kept running his fingers up the length of the feather, mindlessly petting it, and it seemed to quiver under him. Gabriel made another little contented noise. Sam looked at the angel, hands tucked behind his head and stretched out like a contented housecat next to him, eyes closed and a smirk on his face. The pale skin, the pudgy stomach, the scarring on the left arm (which didn't look so bad in the soft morning light) the amber hair, the wings that shifted and curled around the bed in a possessive manner, holy shit Gabriel is my husband.

Sam ducked his head and pulled Gabriel into a kiss that was as much tempting and it was testing, assuring himself that this wasn't a dream. This was real. This is now my life.

"Well, since you haven't run screaming in the other direction, I'm going to assume you haven't come to your senses, then?" Gabriel teased.

"If it means waking up like this every morning, hope I never do," Sam agreed.

"So, Sam, how are you feeling?" Gabriel asked, looking his mate over.

"Fine. Better than fine, fantastic even. Haven't felt this good in a long time. No aches, no pains, no stress, no anything," he flopped back onto the bed and just wanted to sink into its soft embrace. He didn't even feel sore from last night!

"Do you feel…different?"

Ah, the real question, the one that Gabriel had probably been mulling over all night. Even with the Grace connection, he probably could only tell so much, and he didn't overstep his boundaries by prying. It was a good question though, and Sam thought about it for a moment.

He leaned up on his elbows and let out a small nod, because he did feel different. The warm blanket of Grace wrapped around his soul, he could feel that, but he also felt the familiar hum of electricity just under the surface of his skin. His whole body felt energized, buzzing with power. This power didn't feel dirty—he didn't have this feeling of soot being scrubbed into his skin. Instead, it was just there, and it wanted to be used for something, anything.

He narrowed his eyes at the white vase-shaped lamp on the bedside table behind Gabriel and concentrated.

It exploded into a thousand pieces.

Gabriel's wings curled up to protect them from the flying shrapnel with lightning reflexes. Rascal barked in alarm and cowered behind Sam's hip—he even shot the hunter a suspicious look.

Gabriel arched an eyebrow at Sam, who shot him a sheepish grin. "I, uh, was trying to turn it on. Sorry." He gave the dog a reassuring head scratch.

Gabriel snapped his fingers, and the lamp was whole and unscathed once more, and his wings relaxed around them. "Well, that answers a few questions I had. We're definitely going to work on that—I'd rather not explode."

A loud rumble sounded from Sam's stomach. "Can we do that after breakfast?"

"That thing calls out any louder and you might start communicating with the whales in the bay," Gabriel teased. "Sure, kiddo. Then a continuation of last night?"

"I vote for breakfast, sex, second breakfast, and more sex," Sam said, counting off on his fingers.

"Second breakfast? What are you, a hobbit?"

Sam chuckled. "Yeah, a hobbit with gigantism."

"Sam, no matter what species you are, you'll always be a Sasquatch."

"Not my fault you picked a short-ass vessel."

"He was perfectly tall for his time!"

Rascal leapt from the bed with the grace of a gazelle and made for the door. Somehow, the dog successfully wove a path through the wings that surrounded them, even though Sam was sure the dog couldn't actually see them.

Well, pretty sure. That would be an interesting discovery.

Rascal turned to give them a Well, you coming? look.

"Looks like we're tabling this discussion 'til later," Sam said with a smile. Everything made him want to smile.

"Haha, Sam Winchester's whipped by a dog," Gabriel snickered.

"He's your dog, idiot," Sam said, playfully shoving the Trickster out of his way so he could finally roll out of the bed. At this point he was fairly convinced was an actual cloud that Gabriel had made to look like a bed.

"Gabe, what the hell is this?!" Sam demanded when he straightened up and caught a glimpse of his hip. On the right side was a…handprint? Burned right into the flesh over the hipbone, it looked eerily similar to the one Dean carried on his upper shoulder.

"You're mine, Sam," Gabriel said, placing his hand on the print and a jolt ran through Sam's body, making his dick twitch and a gasp escape him.

"You still want breakfast first?" he asked Sam with a raised eyebrow.

Sam's stomach answered for him.

"Spoilsport," Gabriel admonished, but he sighed and the sudden flurry of movement surrounding them almost made Sam dizzy. Gabriel's wings sudden pulled backwards and started folding in on themselves again, and again, and again until they were flush with Gabriel back before disappearing into thin air. The room suddenly felt so much bare without them, and he realized why there was so little in the room to begin with.

"You should feel honored, Sasquatch, not just anyone gets the chance to manhandle an Archangel's wings. That's like walking up to the President of the United States and fondling the family jewels," Gabriel snickered at the look on Sam's face.

"Only you could make such an amazing thing sound that damn perverted."

"It's a gift. Come on, let's go feed you. You're going to need your strength for what I've got planned for you, Sam!"

Sam shivered in anticipation.


Sam watched Gabriel cook, feeling slightly guilty for not helping; the archangel wasn't allowing him in the kitchen while he worked. The hunter had to be content just sitting at the kitchen table half-naked and admiring from afar. Gabriel had snapped up a pair of comfy pajama pants without argument but Sam had decided to go shirtless, feeling lazy. The way Gabriel kept staring and licking his lips, though, Sam might as well have been sitting there butt-naked.

"Don't let the pancakes burn because you're easily distracted," Said teased. He had to admit, the white tank top and red silk boxers Gabriel liked to don were starting to grow on him. His hand drifted over the handprint seared into his hip, the tips of the fingers peeking over the waistband of his pants.

"Ye of little faith, much? Archangel/Pagan God here, pretty sure I can cook a bunch of pancakes without screwing up."

"Now you've jinxed it," Sam said. Sure enough, tendrils of smoke started to curl around the outermost edges of the pancakes.

Gabriel shot him an accusatory glare.

"What? I didn't do anything, that's all you."

Dating a Trickster meant that there was always a little bit of extra theater in everything, and serving pancakes was no different. Gabriel flipped the pancakes high into the air and caught them on a platter behind his back, giving an elegant little bow to Sam as he presented their breakfast.

"Sans magic," Gabriel said proudly. With another snap there was suddenly mountains of scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and assorted fruits scattered around on the table before them. A little vase also appeared with a flower in it. For some stupid reason that little flower in the vase made Sam almost blush with happiness. The entire thing was surprisingly homey.

"Damn, you sure you didn't mojo these?" Sam asked when he took his first bite and the pancake melted on his tongue, the sweetness perfectly balanced with the bitter dark chocolate chips Gabriel had sprinkled into the batter. He practically groaned from the pancake. "I don't remember them being this good, even the ones you made before."

The archangel had finished pouring at least a fourth of a bottle of syrup on his stack before digging in with enthusiasm. "I decided to pull out all the stops after last night. I've picked up a few tricks over my time on Earth—killer pancakes are simply one of my many talents."

"I'm going to get fat on these," Sam said, a playful scowl on his face.

Gabriel rolled his eyes and waved a hand vaguely in the air. "There. Now they have the same nutritional value as kale. Happy?"

"Exceptionally," Sam said as he dug in with gusto. Gabriel took a plain pancake and fed bits to Rascal, who was waiting patiently at their feet.

"So, what are we going to do now?" Sam asked halfway through his plate of eggs and bacon. Gabriel stole a half-eaten one off of Sam's plate (even though he had more than enough on his own plate) and made a show of licking the syrup from his fingers; Sam squirmed in his seat, not wanting to get distracted from a pretty important discussion. "I mean, Dean's going to flip about us."

"Don't tell him," Gabriel said simply.

"…Are you kidding?"

Gabriel shrugged.

"Oh, God, you aren't kidding. Look, we're essentially married, right? I can't keep that from Dean! He'll catch on, and believe me, it's a thousand times worse when he figures something out on his own than if I just come out and own up to anything. After Ruby we had to make the deal between ourselves—no more secrets. It was the only way we could trust each other."

Gabriel held up his hands. "There's a method to my madness, Sam. 1, you're family doesn't trust me, and I get that (*cough* even though I saved their asses *cough*). I'd like to at least try and get on their good side first before we drop this particular bomb; self-preservation does apply here, I won't lie. 2, nothing's changed, so there's no point in calling attention to it."

"'Nothing's changed'?" Sam asked, feeling irritated. "It's all changed! What if we're in the middle of a fight and I summon another angel blade?"

"Then we'll sit Dean down and explain to him what happens when an Archangel and Human love each other very much. Actually, we might want to have that discussion sooner rather than later…you know, when I had you guys trapped in T.V. Land, I almost locked them in a Rom Com to see if they'd get a clue."

"Thank God you didn't, we'd still be there."

"Yeah, I'm not that particularly patient," Gabriel admitted with a shrug.

Sam gave his lover a sideways stare. "Where would I have gone? Fuck, not another STD commercial?"

Gabriel smacked Sam on the shoulder. "Nah, something much more awesome! 'Casa Erotica 13—the Sasquatch that Shagged Me'," Gabriel said in his best announcer's voice, and Sam couldn't help the snickers that were forced out of him.

"Look, back to the issue at hand. What do you mean, nothing's changed?"

"You're still Sam Winchester, hunter. I'm still Loki, the Trickster. If I want to stay alive I have to keep up the cover so no one gets suspicious.

"Which means I need to stay with Dean, keep up appearances?" The idea of motel rooms and fast food suddenly wasn't as appealing as before (not that it ever was before but now it really wasn't). Especially now that there was a dog to love and an angel that could make killer food.

"We both know you weren't going to just drop everything and run away with me," Gabriel said. "As much as I'd like to encourage such reckless behavior…" The angel did look a little sad at the idea, and Sam didn't need to feel the Grace in him tighten to know Gabriel really didn't want Sam to leave. "You'll still be hunting with your brother, I'll still be giving out just desserts. Nothing's changed."

Sam shuddering involuntarily, and took a little breathe. "Gabe, when you left, I felt like I was detoxing from demon blood all over again. Shakes, headaches, mood swings. Last time you left I almost died. Now that we're actually bonded, won't that actually kill me, us even?"

"We were separated under bad terms, Sam, and that reflected in the bond. I was upset, you were upset feeling how much I was upset—it's a loop. It was like we were playing ping-pong with a bomb. It was bound to get messy sooner or later."

"But, parting on good terms will be okay?"

"Missing someone hurts, Sam, but it's not deadly. Besides, I'll kidnap you often enough for fun, sexy times that it won't be so bad."

Sam looked at Gabriel carefully. "You're worried about Michael too, right?" The Grace inside him tightened just a little, but whether it was fear or possession Sam wasn't sure.

"Yeah," Gabriel admitted after a moment. "If a pagan Trickster goes missing at the same time the God Squad realizes I'm alive and start looking for me, it'll just draw their attention. So, we'll play it cool and hide in plain sight."

Sam ran a hand over his face. "I thought I was done running from them."

"You are. I managed it for several thousand years—wonder if I should submit that for Guinness Book of World Records?"

"What happens if they find you?"

Gabriel didn't look at him, but he felt a touch of fear constrict around him. "They'll take me back and probably do everything they can to turn me back into Gabriel the Archangel. I don't want that, Sam."

Gabriel took a breath. "Earth…it's my home now. My work's here, my dog's here, and you're here," he said. Though he had started shakily, he had finished with conviction in his voice. The idea of Heaven, what was once his home, seemed dull and shallow in comparison to Earth's beauties, to the man sitting next to him. To his mate.

Sam opened his arms and gave a comforting hug to the smaller man. "They'll never get you. You've got the Winchesters on your side, Gabe—you'll be safe."

Sam wasn't exactly sure how the bond worked completely, but he tried to share as much comfort and love as he could—after a few minutes Gabriel's tensed body relaxed, and he pulled away looking less scared and more normal. "Thanks," was all he said.

"So," Sam said after a few minutes, deciding to change the subject. "What do I do about this Grace? Exploding lamps aren't not exactly subtle if you want to stick to your 'hiding in plain sight' plan."

A smile spread from ear to ear on Gabriel's face and he started bouncing in his seat from the excitement. "Actually, I've got the perfect plan!"

"Which is…?"

"I, Gabriel the awesome Archangel want you, Sam, the extra hot hunter, to practice your new skill set by…drum roll please…playing pranks on Dean!"

Slow blinking was followed by a bark of incredulous laughter. "Do what?"

"Don't give me that look; would you honestly expect any other type of suggestion from me?"

"But…how would that even work?" Sam asked, still laughing at the utter ridiculousness of the idea.

Gabriel smirked. "Sam, you just killed Lucifer, the biggest bad we had on this planet (which is not in peril for once). You need to relax now, enjoy life a little! Pulling off little pranks of Dean will be a fun way to figure out what you can actually do. Besides, you told me about all those pranks he's pulled on you over the years. You can't tell me you're not interested in a little payback."

Flashbacks played in Sam's mind:

The Nair in his shampoo.

The itching powder in his underwear.

The creepy clown doll that kept showing up in Sam's duffel bag no matter how many times he tried to leave it behind until he chucked it from the backseat out the window as they drove through the Mojave Desert.

Dean still thought it was hilarious to ask Sam if he'd seen it in his bag recently.

Okay, maybe Gabriel had a point with such a suggestion.

"Come on, Sam, it'll be fun! You can just blame 'lil old me! Dean will piss and moan and threaten to kill me, but he won't question it. Or, bonus points, make 'em look like accidents, bad luck. You're creative."

"You're plan shouldn't have merit…why does it have merit?"

"Because you know I'm ri~ight!" Gabriel said in a sing-song voice, gloating essentially. "There's a Trickster in you, Sam, and I'm going to get him out!"

Sam mulled over it for several minutes, but a smirk started to grow over his face.

"Alright, Gabe, you win," Sam said over Gabriel's gleeful whooping. Even Rascal added a bark of approval. Sam could feel the joy in Gabriel's Grace and simply let himself get swept away with it, grinning at all the terrible pranks he'd been itching to pull on his big brother for years.

"I knew you'd see things my way! Now, enough talk! I say we have some fun, Sammy, then your training begins, my young apprentice."

"Whatever," Sam said with a grin, kissing the top of Gabriel's head before wandering down the hallway to the bathroom to take care of his 'human needs' as Gabriel called them before. When he returned he saw the angel leafing through a Weekly World Newspaper, snickering to himself.

"Ooh, that's a good one!...hm, a little tweaking and that's not a bad idea either…."

Sam wrapped his arms around his mate's chest, pressing his back against the Trickster and nuzzling the back of his neck. He simply breathed—Gabriel didn't have this sweaty, earthiness to him that Sam now noticed most people had. He just smelled like the air after a thunderstorm, or a brisk autumn morning.

Sam's hands started roaming all over Gabriel's chest, feeling the soft flesh there, an interesting compliment to the muscles Sam had developed over years of hunting and hard-living. The fact that the flesh was a deceptive front to the real power Gabriel wielded only added to Sam's fascination with it. Of course, it could've just been that it was Gabriel he was holding onto, touching, and that meant it was automatically fascinating to the human.

The hunter nibbled his way over Gabriel's exposed neck, and his hands started roaming lower and lower, desire and lust making the bond vibrate like a plucked string.

"Actually, Sam, there's a very important thing I have to ask you," Gabriel said, and Sam broke away.

"What's that?"

"For breakfast, are you a bacon fan?" Gabriel whirled around on the stool and Sam gawked at Gabriel's sudden complete nakedness, his dick fully erect against his stomach, a little fake mustache on his upper lip, its crookedness coming from being hastily slapped on.

"Oh, God, Gabe don't—"

"Or are you a fan of…kielbasa?" the Trickster asked with a terribly fake accent Sam couldn't even try to place. Sam couldn't think, he couldn't even breathe—he actually had to sit on the floor he was laughing so hard. Gabriel's laughter was infectious-Sam's ribs started hurting after he kept trying to gain control of his snickering only to be sent into howls of laughter after catching sight of Gabriel once again. The Trickster looked mighty pleased with himself.

"Come on, Sam, this is a very important question," Gabriel admonished. "What's your answer?"

When Sam got on his knees before him with his eyes almost black with lust, Gabriel got his answer. Just not in so many words.


Gabriel was standing between the end of the enormous bed and the row of tall windows. Sam was in front of him with his back to the windows and their panoramic view. Both were fully dressed and the angel looked like a kid on Christmas morning. Even the Grace inside Sam was vibrating with hype.

Gabriel turned back to address the little terrier who was sitting on the end of the bed and watching them.

"Rascal, you might want to sit this one out. I don't care if Sam takes uncontrolled, magical pot-shots at me—more than likely I'll survive 'em. I'd hate to see something happen to you, my fuzzy little amigo."

Rascal cocked his head as though mulling it over, then proceeded to lay down but his eyes never left them.

"It's pretty bad when your dog has more faith in me than you do," Sam said, unable to keep a nervous chuckle from escaping him.

"Rascal isn't stupid. He knows I can just revive him," Gabriel said with a shrug.

They'd chosen the bedroom to be their practice room because it had the least amount of breakable and priceless artifacts scatted about it. Gabriel also made the executive decision that Sam couldn't face the windows—partially so Sam still didn't know where they were, but mostly so he didn't smash out the glass on accident.

"Alright, let's start with the most important part of being a Trickster," Gabriel said without preamble, holding up his hand. "The Snap."

"The snap? Seriously?"

"Yes, is there an echo in here? Look, it's important for a lot of different reasons. Mostly it helps condense and concentrate my Grace into doing exactly what I want when I need it without overkill, which you desperately need to learn. When you were using demon blood, you had to basically squeeze out as much juice as possible to exorcise a demon—with Grace you have an overabundant supply now, so we need to retrain you into reigning in your power."

"Is that why I always had those headaches? Strain?"

"Yep. It also doesn't help that it was demon blood; newsflash Sam, it's tainted by pure evil. That stuff was trying to poison you and your body was trying to keep it under wraps."

Sam's eyes became downcast. "Never again. I promise," he said quietly.

Gabriel lifted Sam's face up a little. "I know, Sam. Now, back to the lesson at hand. Think of the snap as the trigger to your Grace gun. Pull the trigger, fire a bullet. Snap, shit happens. Capiche?"

"Yeah, makes sense. What's your other reason?" Sam asked, curious.

"It's dramatic! A bit of theater, I will admit, but that's half the fun of the job! There's no telling what you're about to do, and it makes people pay attention—makes them afraid." Gabriel readied his fingers to snap and had his trademark smirk in place. Sam was immediately assaulted with memories of when he and Dean were on the receiving end of that snap.

"First of all, I'm not becoming an actual Trickster, Gabe. I'm just goofing off a bit to figure out what I can do, now. Secondly, I thought the whole idea was to prank Dean without getting caught. Snapping fingers are the opposite of that."

"Yeah, well, it's a lot more subtle than this," Gabriel said, striking a pose. He had his right arm stretched out before him as though trying to reach for something just out of arm's length. His face was screwed up in a concentrated/constipated scowl, and he had his other hand cradling his head. It was a perfect mimic of the pose Sam unconsciously took when exorcising a demon via the blood.

"Shit, is that what I actually looked like?" Sam asked, cheeks coloring slightly as he laughed. "Now I'm wondering if those demons smoked out of their meat suits in pity because I looked so pathetic. What if—what if I tried it with a blink? Or a word?"

"Like what? 'ShaSam?' Yeah, that's subtle. Just do the snap," Gabriel grumped.

Rolling his eyes, Sam held up his hand. "What do you want me to do?"

"How about…turn on that lamp?" he said, pointing to the recovered victim from earlier.

"You really have something against that lamp, don't you?"

"Just like shooting a gun, Sam. Concentrate on what you want to happen, then snap your fingers to make it happen," Gabriel coached. He took a step back, allowing an unobstructed view of the lamp in question. Rascal looked on, tail wagging slowly. Sam took a breath, gathered the electricity humming under his skin, and snapped.

The lamp clicked on, but only stayed on for five seconds before the light bulb shattered.

Sam dropped his hand in discouragement, but Gabriel actually gave him a few claps and Rascal barked. "Not bad, Sam! I'm glad you're a quick study—a few more days and I feel that you'll be able to prank Dean without killing him. Resurrecting him constantly would be a pain in the ass."

A few more days like this—that sounds perfect, Sam thought with a content smile when Gabriel's Grace agreed with him.


"Gabriel, can I ask you a question?" Sam asked slowly.

"You just did," Gabriel pointed out, voice partially muffled because his face was buried in Sam's side. The lights of the cityscape gleamed brightly out the windows. They were curled around each other under the sheet, bodies worn out but in the best way possible.

Sam smacked the archangel's shoulder playfully.

"It better be a pretty important question if you feel you need to interrupt post sex-cuddles to ask," Gabriel said gruffly.

"Why me?" as all Sam said, voice low in the quiet, darkened room. A snort from the end of the bed reminded him to keep his voice low—Rascal was sleeping on the far corner of the bed on his back, legs in the air which kicked once in a while. He liked to let himself in when Gabriel and Sam weren't in the middle of awesome celestial sex and snuggle between them. Sam couldn't even be annoyed at the little guy.

Gabriel dragged his eyes up to look at Sam. "You?"

"Yeah, me. Why me? I just—I don't get it. I'm a hunter, I've killed people before. I have anger issues and family issues out the ass. I'm an ex-demon blood junkie and I've tried to kill you before. So, what was it about me that made your control slip? To want to make a bond with me?"

Gabriel tenderly stroked Sam's face, a grin on his own. "You're a good man, Sam. Yeah, you tried to kill me, but when you had me cornered you didn't try to hurt me in revenge. Much. You just begged for your brother back. You have anger issues, but you're also compassionate. You drank demon blood which, I'll admit, is pretty frigging gross, but you didn't do it for power. You did it in order to help the people possessed by the demon in question. You're a good man, and you're amazing in bed—do I need more of an excuse?"

Sam grinned. "But, you're an Archangel, the blood—"

"—was a means to an end in a desperate situation. You put in the time to detox, willingly. You've made bad choices, but you're always searching for redemption—that's something I understand more than most. That's something I can offer you."

Gabriel put his hand over Sam's heart. "You'll never be plagued again, Sam. Yet another perk to add to the list of sleeping with an Archangel. When you took on my Grace, it completely purified you—the blood will never tempt you again."

Sam's eyes widened in surprise. "That—that's—"

"You're welcome," Gabriel said with a dismissive wave of his hand, as though it wasn't a big deal. Across the bond Sam felt nothing but comfort and love, which he returned through a powerful hug.

"Thank you, so much," Sam said as sincerely as humanly possible. To not have that fear plucking at the back of his mind every day—the vague feeling of nausea, of fuzzy-headedness, of feeling like he had to tip-toe around his own brother and adoptive father because he didn't want them jumping down his throat ever again. He felt human again, valuable again—interesting considering he had an Archangel's Grace humming contently around his soul.

"You're worth it, Sam. Now, can we sleep? You really wore me out earlier."

"Yeah, but…this is the same for you, isn't it? I fell for you even though you'd done nothing but hurt me in the past. I forgave you. You ran, went against your own brother for me. I protected you. And even after you almost…you came back, made things right."

Sam stroked the scarred arm as he spoke. "You need that, too, don't you?" Sam said quietly. "A chance for redemption?"

Several moments of silence passed, until Sam was certain Gabriel had fallen asleep.

"…Maybe."

END


A/N: Ah, the end to another long yet fun fic is always both a happy and bittersweet moment. I really hope you've enjoyed this part 3 to the Trickster's Apprentice series! There's one final part to this series, called "Wager," and hopefully it'll be up in a few months. January is going to be devoted to my attempt at writing a debut novel, so fics will be on hold until then!

I really hope that, if you've enjoyed this fic and series in general, you'll let me know with comments, feedback, etc. What did you like, what do you think will happen next, what do you want to see? I take my reader's words into consideration when writing these fics, and would love to see what you think of the works in general!

If you subscribe to me, or subscribe to this story, I'll update this fic with a new chapter announcing the next story when the first chapter goes up. Until then, feel free to check out my other stories to pass the time.