AFTER THE STORM
PART 8: Well I'm Scared of What's Behind and What's Before.
Raphael felt Samuel force himself to relax as Dean walked out the door. Less-controlled were his wings, which bunched into a balled-up mess against his thin shoulders. The boy was nervous, but determined to pretend otherwise.
Letting go of Samuel's wrist, the Healer trailed his fingertips down the boy's spine and pressed against the pressure points just above where his wings emerged. There was a soft gasp of surprise as the bundled grace suddenly relaxed and laid flat across Samuel's back. "What doing?" he asked, twisting around to see what was happening.
"Your wings will hurt if left in such a state," Raphael explained. "I am simply straightening them out until we can work on them properly." Besides, he was unable to resist a little grooming while they waited—they had about two and a half centuries to make up for with this fledgling.
Samuel grunted, but remained still. The Healer hummed as he worked, smoothing out the ruffled grace and bolstering the protective coating. Now that the wounds were healed, Raphael could appreciate the sheer amount of raw power contained in the young angel. When fully-grown, Samuel would likely rival Lucifer in strength and ability.
Is he alright, brother? Castiel asked privately.
Raphael nodded. He is very strong—even more than I first estimated. We will need to start his training before his grace grows beyond his ability to control. And if his wings are beginning to propel him around, then he may start flight sooner than I'd thought.
He does not look happy, Castiel pointed out.
I have not yet won his trust. He is only allowing this because you are present, Raphael told him. The archangel continued to sift through the grace with one hand while the other began to lightly scratch the base of Samuel's neck. The muscles slowly loosened and Raphael felt ridiculously happy when the child leaned back against his knees. This is good for him. His grace will soon begin seeking out interaction with other angels. I do not want him to fight that instinct when it grows stronger. Has he always been averse to touch?
I am not sure. Castiel sat forward, choosing his words carefully. It is possible he had issues with physical interaction in his earlier years. I did not know him as well as I should have before the Apocalypse. Since the Cage, however, he has definitely withdrawn more, and abhorred being touched by any angel's grace. Including my own.
Raphael pressed his lips together, preventing a sigh from escaping. It was one thing to hear Michael lament his actions from the Cage—it was another to witness the consequences of those actions. He'd felt the scars between soul and grace, and he could only imagine what that soul had looked like before their Father's healing. For the first time, he felt anger burn hot in his belly at the thought of his older brothers.
He has been doing better, though, Castiel's calm voice cooled Raphael's ire. Sam is now more apt to accept physical comfort than he was two weeks ago. He even began enjoying our daily grooming sessions.
Good! I find fledglings will often reach a stage where they rarely wish to be groomed when there are other things they prefer getting into. Raphael smiled fondly. This one really is a lot like Gabriel. And he was a professional pouter. I look forward to seeing Gabriel try to deal with a head-strong fledgling of Samuel's power and temperament.
"Are you both talking about me?" Samuel interrupted with an impressive glare aimed at Castiel. "I can hear...whispering, or something."
Raphael chuckled and patted the boy's shoulder. "I was just telling Castiel how strong you are."
Samuel turned to stare suspiciously at him, but suddenly seemed to realize how close they were. Hazel eyes widened as he stepped back and promptly tripped into a pile of pillows. Raphael raised an eyebrow in amusement, but didn't move toward him. He put a hand up when he saw Castiel swing his legs onto the floor. It made the seraph pause, clearly torn between obedience and the urge to check on his charge.
"Are you okay, Sam?" Castiel asked, unable to keep quiet.
"Ugh," Samuel groaned in frustration from the floor. He made no move to get up. "I'm really starting to hate that question."
"I'm sorry," Castiel quickly responded, but Samuel waved him off.
"No, don't—it's cool, Cas. I'm fine," the boy mumbled into a pillow.
Raphael heard the others leave the kitchen and leaned back into the cushions. "Your family is returning. Do you wish to remain on the floor for the next film?" he asked casually.
Castiel shot him a worried look. What are you doing?
Relax, brother. He is alright—simply embarrassed at being startled. Raphael was proven correct when Samuel groaned again.
"I really planned on just dying here with any dignity I have left. Can't you just pile more pillows on top of me so I can't be seen?" he pleaded, pulling one of the nearby pillows over his head.
Raphael gestured with his hand, and all the pillows of the room rose into the air. They swarmed to the boy and buried him. They were graced with a quiet squeal from underneath, followed by a muffled, "I did not mean that literally!"
The archangel winked at Castiel, whose worry now softened in amusement. "My apologies, Samuel," he said loud enough to be heard through the mountain of stuffing. "I must have misunderstood. I do not have the same grasp on human humor as my brothers."
Gabriel entered the room, followed closely by the other two Winchesters. Raphael took pleasure in the shocked expression on the younger archangel's face. He stared with an open mouth at the moving mound. "Do I want to know?"
Dean shouldered past the Messenger to take in the scene. His face twisted as he tried not to laugh. "What the hell, Sammy!" he said as he picked pillows off the top and aimed them at Castiel's head. The seraph batted each back to the floor. "This is the worst pillow fort I've ever seen. Dude, I know I taught you better than this!"
When the last pillow was removed, Samuel rolled onto his back and stared up at his brother. "I was hoping for an honorable death before you found me."
Dean rolled his eyes. "Get up," he said, grabbing the boy's hands and pulling him to his feet. "No dying before I get a retirement cake!"
"Not pie?" Samuel asked, pulling his hands back.
Dean paused, then turned to Gabriel. "I'm changing my order—I want retirement pie instead."
"You got it," Gabriel said as he kicked a path through the strewn pillows. "Any particular flavor or type?"
"All of them. One of each!"
"Dean!" Samuel sounded horrified. "Don't tell him that! He'll do it, and you know it!"
"So?" Dean plopped back down on the couch next to Raphael, nudging him with a sharp elbow. "You only retire once, am I right?" The Healer was unsure what exactly 'retirement' entailed, but it seemed important to humans.
"Retire?" Castiel asked before Raphael could respond.
The hunter launched into an explanation that involved beds and breakfast for passing hunters. Raphael half-listened, intrigued by the idea but more interested in the flood of emotions pouring off Samuel. It wasn't surprise—he suspected the brothers had already discussed the idea earlier. But hearing Dean say it in front of everyone was clearly affecting him.
Samuel stood in the middle of the room, staring at his brother in amazement. His eyes darted to the others as though checking to make sure they were all hearing the same words. Raphael gave him a warm smile when those eyes turned to him.
Mary went to her youngest and held her hand out. "Sit with me for this one?"
The boy took her hand and nodded. "Sure. Mom." He hesitated between words.
Raphael wondered if it was the unfamiliarity of her title that gave Samuel pause. He watched as the mother led her son around to his side of the couch. Dean shifted closer to Castiel, making room for them both. Mary tried to draw Samuel forward by his hand to have him sit next to his brother, but he stood firm.
"You sit there, mom," he said, pushing her leg until she moved. He glanced at Raphael, and for a second the archangel feared he'd done something wrong—that the boy no longer trusted him to sit next to his mother. But then, the gaze turned shy and the corner of Samuel's lips turned up. "That way you can watch the movie and I can answer any questions either of you have. Don't bother asking Dean—he'll be too distracted by Leia's slave costume."
Mary relented and looked delighted to find herself between both her boys. Samuel climbed onto the couch and sat stiffly, picking nervously at his pants. He reminded Raphael of a tiny perched bird that might fly off any second, so he kept his vessel still and relaxed.
A wave of giddy joy flowed in from the other archangel, and he looked up. Aww, it looks like you've made a friend, Gabriel said with raised eyebrows.
Raphael's grace warmed with delight at the prospect of gaining Samuel's trust. Be careful, Gabriel. His ears are quite sensitive...
"I can hear you both," Samuel interrupted their silent conversation in a quiet voice.
The Healer's lips quirked at Gabriel's shocked face. "Yes, I was just telling Gabriel that."
"You could hear us?" Gabriel asked.
Samuel smirked at the archangel. "Kinda. I can tell you're talking, but it just sounds like vague whispers. You think I'll get better at listening in with practice?"
Gabriel gasped and staggered against the end of the couch by the door, clutching his chest. "Did you hear that, Raph?! He wants to be a sneaky, devious angel!" He sounded like his greatest dream was finally being realized.
Raphael sighed at his brother's antics. "Yes, yes. I am sure you will be a wonderful mentor in mischief."
"Great, just what we need," Dean jumped in. "A grace-fueled prank war. Mom, remind me next time we go shopping to get hair dye and superglue. If war breaks out, we gotta be prepared."
"Oh God," she muttered, slightly horrified by the prospect.
"Gabriel, perhaps you should start the next movie," Castiel suggested.
Gabriel laughed and quickly switched out the discs. "Anyone need anything before I press play? Food, drink?" Everyone shook their heads. The archangel snapped his fingers, lowering the lights and starting the film.
Instead of returning to sit by Castiel's feet, Gabriel belly-flopped on the opposite side of the couch and stretched out next to Raphael. The Healer chuckled and began absentmindedly playing with the golden wings as he watched the movie. Gabriel groaned obscenely and burrowed further into the cushions.
"Hey!" Dean whispered loudly. A pillow launched over their heads to land on Gabriel. "Those are not appropriate noises! Especially not when freakin' Jabba the Hutt is on screen!"
Gabriel snorted and mumbled something about "stupid mortals," but fell quiet after that.
Raphael basked in the comfort of the flock around him. The earlier tensions had eased enough that they were now drifting on an infectious giddiness. Mary held both her boys' hands as they watched the screen. Half-way through, Samuel started listing to the side, head nodding as he fought to keep his eyes open.
When the battle with exhaustion was lost, Raphael was startled to feel a small head lean against his arm. He froze and looked down. Samuel had fallen asleep, chin resting on his chest and still holding his mother's hand.
Mary was watching them with equal parts longing and fondness.
And as much as he appreciated the chance to sit with the boy, Raphael did not wish to step on a mother's toes. "Would you like me to shift him to you?" he whispered, already trying to move his arm without waking Samuel, but she stopped him.
"No, no, no," she said in a rush of air. "Let him sleep."
Dean leaned around his mother to assess the situation and nodded. "She's right," he murmured quietly and stood up. "He's the kinda kid you gotta let sleep where he falls. If he wakes up now, he won't go back down for hours, and he'll be mad at the world. Although, if his neck cramps like this, he'll be mad anyway." The hunter carefully tilted his brother's head back and pulled the boy so he was more reclined. Samuel didn't react except to take a deep breath once he wasn't hunched over.
Gabriel lifted his head and blinked at them. "We need to start taking pictures if he's gonna be so stinking cute all the time."
Raphael pushed the floppy haired head down into the cushion to shush him. He felt the vibrations of Gabriel's laughter through the couch. You heard the human, Gabriel. Do not wake Samuel.
Gabriel settled down, but amusement sang through his grace loudly enough that Raphael had to buffer the boy from it. He returned his attention to the younger archangel's wings, calming his excited grace. By the time the movie ended, Dean was also asleep with his head on Castiel's shoulders.
Mary sat in the middle, bemused by her children. "Well," she huffed, "I thought the movie was exciting!" Untangling their hands, she got up and stretched. "Is Gabriel asleep?"
"No," Raphael said at the same time his brother let out a snore. He poked the archangel in the ribs and Gabriel jolted away with a laugh. "We do not sleep. He is just lazy."
"Hey!" Gabriel rolled up on his knees, hair flying everywhere like a rat's nest. "I am not lazy. I prefer the term 'resting while having the chance,' thank you very much. And it's a necessary trait when living with this crew."
"Shh," Castiel said with a scowl. "Go away if you're going to be loud."
"You're kinda cranky there, Cassie. Maybe you need a nap too." Gabriel turned to look at the seraph, and for a moment Raphael thought the Messenger might explode with exhilaration. Gabriel pulled out a cell phone and tapped it. There was a click, and he repeated it while facing Samuel. "Pictures or it never happened, Raphael. That's the human rule," he said with a wink.
"Gabriel!" Castiel whispered fiercely, but the archangel was already out of the room.
"I'll go make sure he doesn't do anything crazy like destroy the kitchen in a pie-baking extravaganza," Mary said, following quickly after Gabriel.
They sat in silence, each angel left to their own thoughts. It gave Raphael time to contemplate how drastically everything had changed. Thirty-six hours ago, this child had viciously fought his assistance—literally fought tooth and nail. And now Samuel was drooling on him. He counted it as a victory.
Raphael knew he would need quite a few more wins in order to begin teaching the fledgling grace work and flight. It required trust, and while he'd made some headway, they still had quite a ways to go.
He did not look forward to giving Michael his update on the situation here. The Commander already carried great guilt and self-loathing over his role in harming Samuel Winchester. It was not going to go over well when he learned how much the boy had suffered since escaping the Cage—especially at the hands of angels.
Samuel's reaction to the angelic guard that morning still unsettled Raphael. He'd been unprepared for the fledgling's fear and anxiety at the sight of Heaven's warriors. There had been no way to simultaneously reassure him and guard the demon. In fact, he'd worried afterwards that his own aggressive actions may have harmed any progress he'd made with the youngest angel.
Gabriel had warned him that angels were at the top of the Winchesters' 'Untrustworthy' list, and he'd expected the suspicion during Samuel's healing. Raphael had not been ready for the child to fear his own protectors when faced with so obvious an enemy as the King of Hell. They would need to be careful when introducing him to angels in the future—any negative interaction would be devastating.
Movement at his side drew Raphael out of his thoughts. The boy drew his knees up as he turned to push his face between the archangel's arm and the couch. He heard Samuel's breathing hitch, but it didn't wake him up.
"Raphael, do not use your grace," Castiel said in a low, urgent voice as he shook Dean awake.
The hunter came to consciousness instantly. "Cas, what...?"
"Sam's going into a nightmare," was all Castiel needed to say.
Dean turned and slid across the couch to his brother. He barely acknowledged Raphael, focusing entirely on the boy now trying to wedge his body behind the archangel. They heard the frantic breathing mix with whimpers.
"Sammy? Come on, dude, you're gonna feel weird if you wake up back there." Dean spoke in a soothing tone. He got an arm around his brother's torso and pulled him up against his own chest. A growl lodged in the back of Samuel's throat, held in place by grinding teeth. Sharp fingers twisted in Raphael's tunic, trying to prevent being forced away.
The archangel watched as hazel eyes, bright with grace, flew open. They stared without focusing, wild and desperate. A foot narrowly missed Raphael's head when the boy bucked against his brother's hold. Snapping his head back, Samuel landed a solid blow to Dean's face and won his freedom. The hunter fell against Castiel, biting back curses as blood poured from his broken nose.
Samuel dove forward again, blindly burrowing between Raphael and the couch. The Healer leaned forward, giving the boy enough space to hide. Fingers tangled in his wings and yanked them closer. Raphael grunted, quickly folding them down so they enveloped the terrified boy. Electrified grace jolted through them, but Raphael absorbed it, containing the energies within his wings.
Castiel! Gabriel! Please find find find... Samuel's mental cry rang painfully loud in Raphael's mind. He heard Castiel gasp, and Gabriel flew into the room with his angel blade in hand.
One glance at the child had Gabriel dropping his blade and rushing forward. "Here, Samuel. We are right here. You are home." He jumped onto the couch to Raphael's left, trying to see the boy through the curtain of grace.
"Peace, Gabriel," Raphael said softly. "Talk calmly so he does not wake up to you being upset. Castiel, please heal Dean and take him to clean up. I do not believe Samuel will be comfortable to find everyone staring or his brother covered in blood."
Castiel nodded and laid a hand on Dean's shoulder, flying them away. Without the hunter's constant stream of muttering filling the room, it was much easier to focus on Samuel's fast breathing. Raphael winced as he felt another spark ignite across his wings.
"He is quite powerful, even while asleep," Gabriel said, seeing Raphael's reaction. "His grace will continue lashing out until he is awake, and even then we may need to drain it. Any suggestions?"
Raphael gave his brother a pained smile. "I am able to contain it at the moment. Talk to him—let him hear your voice. He is half-awake now, but trapped in memory. His grace recognizes me as a source of safety from yesterday, but it is you he wants. Reassure him."
Gabriel nodded and settled in his corner of the couch along side them.
Sam was lost in that place filled with fear and cold and hands that hurt.
'You will learn my rules, little monster. You have no choice here...'
He heard Shepard's voice, filled with delight at the prospect of punishing him. Felt his hair being twisted in a steel grip to drag him back to the cage. All he wanted to do was run and hide.
Sam found a small, warm space he could curl up in and wait until the danger passed. It seemed familiar, calling to him like a song. But hands grabbed him before he could crawl into place.
'Where exactly did you think you were going?'
Throwing his head back, he decided the explosion of pain was worth it when he heard the crunch of bone. His captor's hands disappeared, and Sam took his chance. The hiding place called louder, and he followed it to find radiating heat.
It was a tight squeeze, but Sam forced himself to fit. A gruff voice cursed loudly, and Sam sent up a desperate prayer for a miracle. Something soft touched his face, like a thick curtain warmed in the afternoon sun. Sam grabbed it and pulled, hoping to hide himself from searching eyes.
Another voice joined the outside noise, adding to the need to stay hidden. Sam knew his breathing was too loud, too fast, and tried to stifle the sound by pressing his face into the wall. A deep rumble rolled around him, and he knew he'd heard it before—he just couldn't remember where, or why it made him think safety was nearby. Then, everything fell silent.
When the newer voice spoke again, it was answered by another roll of thunder. The curtain shifted and Sam feared he'd been discovered. He froze, tightening his grasp on the fabric as though he could hold it there by sheer force of will. Surprisingly, the curtain stopped moving.
Sam strained his ears but didn't hear anything to indicate whether the man was leaving or not. Then the wall rumbled, soft and sustained in a way that was almost musical. Sam leaned into it, sighing at the unspoken peace he felt at the sound.
A voice whispered lowly on the other side of the curtain, holding none of its earlier urgency. He tensed, unsure of their intent. It took a while for Sam to make out individual words, and even longer for him to understand their meaning.
"Samuel, you are home. We found you—Castiel and I found you. It is safe to come out, little guy." The man sighed. "Raphael, are you sure this is working?"
The music was interrupted by a staccato of bass before returning to its heavy purr. Sam felt a breeze blow against the curtain, swirling softly around him, and he wondered why it wasn't freezing like the air conditioner. It slowed and settled like another layer of protection over him.
The man laughed, high and giddy, and Sam could breathe freely again. He knew that laugh even if he couldn't quite remember the name or face associated with it. "There is no way my singing to Samuel is going to help this situation! I'm more of the 'back-up karaoke animal noises in B-52s songs' kinda guy, Raph. I know what you are thinking, Samuel—how can Heaven's Messenger not be the most magnificent singer of the Host? I think Father knew I would have been too perfect and decided rightly to keep me humble."
Sam's mind whirled as memories and lore slotted into place. 'Messenger' was a title belonging to...Gabriel! Sam felt hope bloom in his chest. Had the archangel heard his prayer?
"I hear ya, Samshine!" Gabriel said with another round of laughter, and Sam realized the angel was listening to his scattered thoughts. "I'm right here—just me and Raph. Your brother and mom and Cas are in the other room. Everyone is safe and sound. You just take your time waking up, okay?"
Waking up? Sam blinked, not realizing his eyes had been clenched shut. Light blinded him unexpectedly. How could it be so bright when he was under a curtain and wedged against a wall?
Shapes formed in the light—white feathers with emerald veins fell over his face and shoulders. A golden glow shone through them like sunlit leaves. Looking down, Sam was horrified to find his hands clenched around what he realized were wings. He gasped and forced his fingers to let go. The wings shook out, returning the twisted feathers to their rightful place. But they didn't retract—they remained draped around him, keeping him safely hidden from the world. After a breath, Sam realized Gabriel was still rambling.
"...fell asleep before you could see Raphael learn that Luke and Leia are twins. Oh, his face! I'll have to show you later. You only get to experience these things for the first time once. Oh, and your mom!" Gabriel gave a low whistle. "I thought she was gonna cry through the last hour or so of it. I think she really liked Vader's redemption arc. Also, your big bro totally fell asleep too. On Cassie! Don't worry—I got pictures. Dad Above, tell me those two haven't been this a-dork-able this whole time. Ugh, they make me want to puke and grin at the same time. I don't know how you stand it!"
Sam huffed softly and shifted in place. His legs were starting to cramp from being awkwardly crammed against...not a wall. Looking past the wings, he saw ivory cloth with elegant gold embroidery—Raphael's tunic.
"Yeah, I bet you've made that sound a lot over the years. Somewhere between a sigh and a laugh—that's a good response to our ridiculous brothers. I mean, what else can you say? It's not like either of them listen. They must be the two most oblivious creatures in all of creation." Gabriel carried on the one-sided conversation, untroubled by Sam's lack of input.
Slowly, Sam's mind returned to the present. They were back in the bunker. The Brits were gone. They'd been watching movies—'Star Wars.'
His stomach turned, threatening to rebel as he finally realized his immediate situation. Sam swallowed hard and fought the urge to shove the archangel away. This wasn't his first nightmare—he could still see static sparks flying off Raphael's wings. Sam's own grace was crawling restlessly across his skin and his limbs shook as the adrenaline tapered off. It was obvious he'd lashed out in his sleep. Again.
"You doing okay in there?" Gabriel' voice made him jump.
Sam couldn't talk for fear of vomiting. Instead, he focused on pushing gently against the wings, hoping he didn't hurt the archangel further. He needed to see something that wasn't grace-light before he got too dizzy.
The dazzling curtain parted, revealing Raphael's broad shoulders. And beside them, against a backdrop of indigo walls, was Gabriel. He was slouched down in the couch, thumbing through his phone and looking at Sam through the corner of his eye. It was so casual, like they'd just been hanging out.
"Do you see this?" Gabriel asked in a whisper as he held his phone up.
Blinking, Sam found himself smiling at the photo of his brother mid-snore on a narrow-eyed Castiel's shoulder. Of course, the glare was aimed at the camera, not Dean, so Sam assumed it was put there by Gabriel. He stared at his brother's face and felt the last tendrils of panic slide away. His family was safe, and so was he. All that remained was the building tidal wave of embarrassment about to crash over him.
His eyes moved back to Gabriel. The archangel was watching him closely, and Sam was sure he looked like a total mess. "I'm okay," he croaked barely above a whisper.
Gabriel nodded with a sad smile. "I know, kiddo. But you don't have to be...if you're not."
Sam shook his head. He did not want to talk about it. Giving name to the clawing helplessness only drew attention to how not okay he really felt. But Gabriel kept going—directly into the heart of what Sam was desperate to avoid.
"I'm sorry we couldn't get to you faster." Gabriel continued softly. "Those people had no right to hurt you."
Sam scrambled out from behind Raphael, pushing with his feet to get his body moving. He staggered to the floor and landed on his knees, already heaving. A bucket appeared in front of his face just in time.
Large hands pushed his hair away from his face while he threw up. Sam let them hold his head up, resting his forehead against a cool palm. Grace flowed down his scalp and spine, washing away the nausea. His stomach relaxed mid-cramp and he took a second to breathe before sitting back on his heels.
Raphael was kneeling next to him, a picture of eternal patience. He handed Sam a bottle of water to rinse out his mouth. When it was clear that Sam was done, the bucket vanished.
"Would you like to go outside for some fresh air?" Raphael asked.
Sam waited to see if 'talking' was going to be a stipulation to the offer, but Raphael simply waited for an answer. Nodding, he pulled himself to standing using the couch as leverage. His knees shook, almost giving out, and he leaned on the seats until he felt confident he'd stay upright.
"I'm fine," Sam said when both archangels reached out to steady him.
"Okay," Gabriel assured, taking a step back.
Raphael remained kneeling with his hand out. When Sam met his eyes, the archangel spoke quietly. "You are not fine, Samuel. You were taken from your home and held by strangers who did you great harm. I know you—no, look at me please."
Sam shut his eyes and buried his face in his arms against the couch. What was wrong with everyone? Why couldn't they just leave it alone? The seconds ticked by, and the longer he stayed hidden, the more he wished his stupid wings worked so he could fly off. He felt them shift against his back.
Fingers pressed into the same pressure point as before, and the wings flattened automatically. "No trying to fly away just yet, little one. I need you to look at me. Come on," Raphael voice was low and firm. Sam reluctantly turned his head and opened his eyes. The archangel's gaze was warm, but serious. "That is better, thank you. As I was saying, I know you are strong—I have never met anyone so young with your determination and willpower. But you need to understand something. Are you listening?" Sam nodded, barely breathing. "You cannot 'will' this away. Human minds are incredibly complex, and capable of repressing memories until a later time. Angels do not have this ability."
Sam frowned. "So...?" He didn't even know how to finish the sentence. So what now? What was he supposed to do—have therapy sessions? Talking wouldn't change what had happened. And it wasn't like the angels he knew were particularly chatty when it came to feelings, with the possible exception of Gabriel. But Gabriel was an exception on too many levels to count.
"So, while it is good to take your time and heal at your own speed, there is nothing beneficial in lying to yourself or others about your well-being." Raphael's words were blunt, and felt like a blow.
Sam pushed himself upright, dislodging Raphael's hand on his wings. "Not lying!" he said furiously. He glanced at Gabriel, expecting the archangel to at least be torn as to who's side he would take. But the amber eyes held his gaze without wavering—a single eyebrow raised, questioning Sam's statement.
"Look at me, Samuel," Raphael ordered. Sam considered ignoring him out of spite, but caved when he realized how childish it would appear. Even kneeling, Raphael towered over him. Sam missed not looking up at everyone. "Good. Now, can you honestly tell me that you are 'fine' after everything you went through these last two days?"
"Yes," Sam answered with a scowl. He had to force himself not to drop his gaze.
"You are fine with being kidnapped?"
"Yes."
"And with being locked in a cage?"
Sam flinched. "Yes," he answered, but he couldn't keep the quiver out of his voice.
"And with being beaten for not answering their questions?" Raphael steadily pushed, keeping his tone calm and curious.
"Yes." Sam's throat grew tight. Why was he asking these things?
"You are fine with being chained to a floor and sprayed with water? Being told that your family—"
"No! You stop!" Sam swung without thinking, desperate to make the archangel be quiet. How did he even know...?
Raphael had Sam's wrist in an unshakable hold before he could register taking the swing. For a heartbeat, no one moved. Sam stared at the enormous hand wrapped around most of his forearm, and didn't know whether to be ashamed or terrified. He heard a weird sound, and realized it was his own breathing—too fast and heavy, like he'd sprinted for miles.
"Sorry," he gasped and tried to pull his hand back. It didn't budge. Sam looked at Gabriel, silently begging the other archangel for help.
Gabriel sighed and walked around the obstacle course of pillows and ottomans. He crouched down next to them and Sam felt his panic rise. Caged in between two archangels, unable to move, was never a good situation.
"Sorry! I...sorry!" Sam repeated. The Healer's grip was like steel, but it didn't hurt or crush his wrist. He tried to peel Raphael's fingers away with his other hand to no avail. "Sorry, Raphael! Please..."
Raphael drew their arms down between them, and shifted his hold so he had both of Sam's hands between his own palms. "Hush, child. You are safe—no one is angry." He raised a hand to Sam's face, using his thumbs to wipe away tears Sam didn't know were there. "I am a healer, Samuel. I care for the sick and wounded. I will not allow your pain to fester—you have suffered too much already in your lifetime."
Sam couldn't look away any more than he could stop the tears that continued to fall. There had been times in his life when he'd have given anything to hear these words directed at him. Dean had come close a few times, but it was always wrapped in anger or fear of losing Sam. Bare minimum survival had become their best-case scenario—pain didn't matter as long as they remained alive. Now that he heard the words, Sam didn't know what to do.
"What you want I do?" Sam asked, his voice shaking as he tried not to sob.
"I want you to be honest. I cannot make you talk to me, but I ask that you do not try to hide when you are hurting." Raphael leaned in, pressing a kiss to Sam's forehead. Grace flowed through their connection, soothing some of the raw emotions churning below his skin. "Strength comes in many forms, from personal strength to strength in numbers. You are not alone in this, Samuel."
Sam gave a short nod. Even if he'd been able to speak, he had no idea what words to use. His brain was too tired to form a sentence in English or Enochian.
"Come on—we can discuss this more later." Raphael gave him a broad smile and tucked a strand of Sam's hair behind his ears. "For now, we will go outside. You need air and sunshine. I will groom you, as well as Gabriel and Castiel, because all three of you are a mess and in need of some attention."
"I am not a mess," Gabriel grumbled.
"Who is lying now, hmm?" Raphael shot back. "What am I going to do with you two? I do not suppose you would allow me to tether you both to my side for a century or three."
"The question is—could you survive being tied to a growing thunderstorm that long? Because that's what you'd get with the two of us—nothing but wind and lightning." Gabriel challenged with a snort. "Besides, think of all the bland things you wouldn't be able to sit and stare at for decades."
"Watch your tone, little hummingbird," Raphael warned. Sam couldn't tell if he was joking or not, but Gabriel stilled at his side. "I would have tied you to me from the beginning if I had known I would lose you."
"I know," Gabriel whispered.
"Then you should not tempt me to start now by doing anything foolhardy. And I will know—even if I am not here, I will know." Sam found himself smiling at the archangel's words—it sounded like something Dean would say. A finger tapped his nose, and he looked up into Raphael's narrowed eyes. "That goes for both of you."
Sam swallowed and nodded. Who knew 'angels watching over you' would be so intimidating? He didn't think this was quite what his mother had in mind all those years ago.
"Good job, Sammy," Gabriel teased in his ear. "You think Dean is a tough mother hen? Wait till you've got Raph in full 'big-brother' mode. It'll be years before he relaxes his guard enough for us to prank him."
Sam felt his cheeks heat up. Sure, Castiel had considered him family, but that relationship was forged over the span of years. They had fought and died for each other. Having grace might make the Host see Sam as some new kind of angel, but at best he was like a stray cousin. Knowing his luck, most of the angels would see him as an even greater abomination—a demon-tainted broken soul with the grace of an absent Father.
Raphael's head tilted in concentration, and Sam dropped his gaze. "Did you know all angels consider each other to be siblings?"
There was an awkward silence. Sam stared at his hands still being carefully held by the Healer. "Umm, I guess?" he finally said with a shrug. "Cas always called other angels 'brother' or 'sister.'"
"And that you are our newest and youngest brother?" Raphael asked, fingers pushing the curls out of Sam's eyes.
Sam grimaced, biting his lip to keep from outright denying it. The idea was too abstract—he didn't know how to belong to a family larger than Dean, Cas, and himself. He didn't even know how Mary fit into the equation, let alone Gabriel, Raphael, and apparently all of fucking Heaven. How could he be a little brother to anyone but Dean?
Raphael, don't you think you're rushing that conversation a bit? The kid's got enough to think about without throwing in "welcome to the family—hope you like having thousands of new siblings who will all know your face and name!" Gabriel asked, careful to keep the words from Sam's sensitive ears.
But he needs to know! Raphael insisted.
Gabriel was taken aback by the forceful tone. Know what? That he's related to an entire race that used to hunt and manipulate him? Timing, bro...
Fine. But he should at least know that you and I see him as more than an obligation. Raphael gave him a pointed look. I will not let him continue believing he is an inconvenient duty.
He doesn't... Gabriel turned to look at Sam. The boy was chewing his lip off while he worked through the his existential angst in silence. You're right. Of course he sees himself that way. And I agree it needs fixing. But still...don't overload his brain!
Sighing, Gabriel lightly scratched along Sam's shoulders to ease him out of his thoughts. "Relax, kiddo. Raphael may be right, but he's also a pushy know-it-all. He's literally the original overbearing big brother—the first to take care of all the younger ones. And there hasn't been a new baby in the family since forever, so he's gonna be extra fussy for a while."
Gabriel was met with simultaneous outrage from both parties. Raphael growled out "I do not fuss!" the same time Sam said, "I am not a baby!"
Gabriel's eyes darted back and forth between them, then gave a low whistle. "Damn, Raph! You think he's my mini-me?" He twirled his hand and waved the tiny white flag that appeared. "By your powers combined, I surrender!"
Sam's glare turned more playful and he huffed a laugh. "You are such a drama queen."
Gabriel opened his mouth to retort, but Raphael beat him to it. "Hmm, 'drama queen.' I think I like that term. It suites you, Gabriel."
"Well, I've got a few choice names in mind for you, old man." Gabriel placed his hands around Sam's ears, pretending to block out the noise, and whispered loudly, "You're just gonna have to wait until innocent ears aren't listening."
Sam batted away the hands and swore, in fluent Enochian, something that had no translation in English. Both archangels gasped in shock. The boy flashed a proud grin and started toward the hall, taking advantage of their momentary stupor.
"Samuel Winchester!" Gabriel finally said, his voice higher than normal. "Where in our Father's creation did you learn that?!" He had to give Sam credit—the kid was gutsy. The smile faltered, and Gabriel suddenly feared the answer would be "the Cage."
"Umm, I'm pretty sure I picked that one up from Gadreel. He knew a lot of really creative words and phrases. Must have been all that time in Heaven's prison." Sam shrugged awkwardly. "Are you coming?"
Gabriel watched him, waiting to see if there was any sign of anxiety over the memory. But all he saw was exhaustion mixed with lingering embarrassment. Those were two things the archangel knew he could help fix. "Okay, potty mouth. Let's get outside before the sun sets. Or before you send Raphael into hysterics with more of your 'creative' language skills."
He stood and stretched his vessel. Raphael hadn't moved, not even to blink. Gabriel grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet.
"Yes, thank you, Gabriel. I am perfectly capable of standing on my own," Raphael said, shaking his head as though to clear it.
"Oh, I know! It's just that some of us would like it to be today, old man." Gabriel made a face at his brother and laughed when he heard him sputter in indignation. "I think Sam wins the eloquence award for the day."
"There's an award?" Sam piped up.
"Hell yeah, there's an award! First in line for an ultra-deluxe grooming session with a team of Heaven's finest!" Gabriel announced as they walked through the bunker.
Sam's face scrunched up. "What?! That's a terrible award."
Gabriel grinned. "You better watch out, Samsquatch. He can hear you!" he warned with a nod toward Raphael. "Insult the grooming process and you'll end up in double sessions for weeks."
The boy looked at Raphael out of the corner of his eye, but didn't say anything. Smart kid, Gabriel thought. He sent a quick word to Castiel, letting him know where they were headed. The seraph agreed to meet them there with the others.
Outside, the air was cool and fresh. The sun sat low among the trees, casting long shadows across the ground. Gabriel kept a close eye on Sam as they walked slowly around the building. He felt the tension practically vibrate off the kid's grace as his scrawny arms wrapped around himself. He wondered if it was for warmth or protection—or possibly both.
Gabriel steered them straight for the firepit. He snapped his fingers, instantly arranging the blankets and pillows. Footsteps crunched through the yard behind them, and the archangel sighed in relief to have the flock all in one place.
Sam had the opposite reaction. His heart rate spiked as he spun in place to face them. Arms at his side and fists at the ready, the kid dropped his weight into a lower fighting stance.
Gabriel quickly turned, afraid he'd misread who was approaching. But it was just his brother and the Winchesters. They slowed their steps, hesitating at his response. Mary and Castiel looked to the archangels for some kind of signal, but Dean kept his eyes on Sam.
The hunter recovered first, shaking his head and walking faster. "You've already bested me once today, Sammy. And I ain't looking for a rematch, so chill."
"Sorry. I didn't know it was you." Sam relaxed his hands and deliberately took a deep breath.
"It's cool, man." Dean sprawled out on the blanket and stared up at the sky. The sun had faded, allowing stars to appear one-by-one.
Sam frowned. "What do you mean I bested you?"
"Dude, you busted my face with your head when you woke up. You don't remember?" Dean looked confused.
"I...what?" Sam turned horrified eyes on Gabriel for confirmation.
Castiel beat him to the punch. "You weren't completely awake yet, Sam. The injury was minor, but...visually dramatic." The seraph joined them, stealing the pillow out from under Dean's head. "Much like your brother," he added as an afterthought.
"Hey!" Dean shouted in protest as his head hit the ground. "That was mine. And did you just call me 'visually dramatic?'"
"Is that similar to 'drama queen?'" Raphael asked as he grabbed two pillows. Sitting on one, he placed the other in front of him.
"Hey!" was yelled again, this time by both Dean and Gabriel.
Sam let out a laugh, surprising everyone including himself. "Yes. In this context, it absolutely is."
Raphael patted the empty pillow, beckoning the boy to him. Gabriel nudged the kid closer. "Go on. Reap your reward." He waited until Sam actually settled in place before he dropped down onto the blanket too.
Mary took a seat between him and Castiel. "Reward?"
"Oh yes," Gabriel said with a grin. It only grew when he saw Sam's face fall. "Your boy won the eloquence award earlier."
"Really?" Mary asked, turning to Sam. "And why is that?"
"He showed off some advanced vocabulary skills that put even Raphael to shame." Gabriel answered. Sam turned red as he ducked his head down.
Mary blinked, looking between her son and the archangels. "And...what did he say?"
"Yeah, Sam. Share with the class." Dean propped himself up on his elbows to get a clear view of his brother. "It's gotta be good if Gabe's making that face."
Sam covered his face with this hands and groaned.
"Gabriel!" Raphael snapped his name like a rebuke. "No one will be repeating those words. Ever."
There was a moment of silence. Then, Dean laughed. "Damn, Sam. What the hell did you say to get them so worked up?"
"Nothing, Dean," Sam mumbled into his hands. "You wouldn't understand it anyway—it was in Enochian."
"What, like that dirty joke Cas told forever ago? That one about breeding with a goat's mouth..." Dean frowned in concentration, trying to remember the words.
Gabriel choked. "Cassie! What kind of jokes have you been teaching these boys? No wonder Sam swears worse than a sailor."
"It was not a joke. It was a fake exorcism being used by the Whore," Castiel growled, glaring at Dean.
"Excuse me?" Mary sputtered.
"Of Babylon," Castiel quickly amended. "The Whore of Babylon—we encountered her during the Apocalypse."
"That...does not make it better," Mary said with a sigh.
"Yeah," Sam said. "Not helping, Cas."
Light giggles echoed around the fire as Gabriel watched Raphael fall into the familiar routine of grooming a fledgling. They had all come so far in such a short amount of time, and the journey was no where near finished. Training and lessons would have to happen soon, and there was a backlog forming of issues that still needed addressing. The biggest item on the list that he planned to take care of first, though, was getting Sam a damn dog. And he knew just the person to call.
But all that could wait a few more hours. For now, Gabriel soaked in the joy that danced across his grace, and sighed in contentment. His flock was safe, his family reformed, and life was good.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
SHOUT OUT to my beta-peeps: ScrollingKingfisher and Nathyfaith! You two keep me on the semi-straight and narrow, and prevent super embarassing mistakes from making their way into my stories!
ALSO, a big-ol' WEEPING THANK YOU to MonPetitTresor for engaging in a free-for-all motivational session on Tumblr! You, sir, are an angel sent by Chuck. This chapter is dedicated to you and your sweetie (let him know that this was ALMOST dedicated JUST to him...because you waxed on and on about how unmotivated you were, and then proceeded to post THREE NEW THINGS! And *I* had to NOT read them so I could get this finished!).
One more chapter to go on the "After the Storm" arc ...and then we are MOVING ON to some new things.
(Hmm, wonder what's going on in Heaven these days...)
Thanks to everyone who has continued to read and comment and message me. Y'all give me life!
Come be my friend on Tumblr under the name TheRiverScribe!