The happier alternate ending, to make up for breaking all of your hearts. 3

There are angels in your angles
There's a low moon caught in your tangles
There's a ticking at the sill
There's a purr of a pigeon to break the still of day

- The Decemberists, "Of Angels and Angles"

Gabriel woke in a hospital bed.

Beside it, Sam sat slumped asleep in a chair—and hazily, Gabriel wondered how he'd gotten them to let him stay in the room considering they weren't related. Probably lied.

Gabe smiled with a soft sound from his throat. He felt muzzy and distant, and the room seemed to shift if he moved his head the wrong way. He reached a hand out, and the IV cord followed after it, and he set his fingers on Sam's hand, which rested on the edge of the mattress. He looked at their hands, and at how much smaller his were in comparison. How, even though Sam's hands dwarfed most anything, his fingers tapered delicately, elegant and pretty. Whereas Gabriel's were just... little. He tapped at Sam's knuckles.

Sam jerked awake.

His eyes focused fast on Gabriel and Gabe noticed how bright they were—deep blue and yellow-y bright brown with high contrast and a nice shine. He smiled at Sam. "'Lo." He tilted his head, with squinted eyes. The lights were... bright. To say the least.

Sam grinned, relief flooding his expression and softening his body. He turned his hand so the palm faced up and wrapped his fingers loose around Gabriel's wrist. He leaned forward a bit. "Hey, Gabriel." His voice drifted out soft and gentle and husky and wonderful to Gabe's ears. "How are you?"

Gabriel gave him a lopsided grin. "'M okay... Little... Funny feeling." His shoulder twitched in an aborted shrug. "Hungry." He licked his lips. They were really dry. Kind scratchy. He caught Sam's eyes again with a sway. "Worried you, huh?"

Sam shook his head. "You have no idea." He reached for the glass of water perched on the table beside the bed, scooting around a bit so he could hold the cup to Gabe's mouth. Gabriel rolled his eyes, but acknowledged the fact that if he tried to hold it himself he'd probably end up with a wet lap, and let Sam tilt the glass so he could drink. He stretched his arm out along the sheets—they were kind of scratchy. Settled his fingers on Sam's knee, now that it was more in his reach. Sam laughed when Gabriel tried to squeeze his knee but found his fingers too weak.

He placed his own hand over Gabriel's and smiled down at him. "I thought you died, you know?" He slide his hand up Gabriel's arm. He leaned forward, and touched their foreheads together. Gabriel looked at him with slightly crossed eyes and a small grin, and Sam continued, "Uh—Lucifer, he's in jail. While you were out, they convicted him. And uh... Well. Everyone's been really worried. Your family is outside, resting. I said I'd keep an eye on you for them... Michael wants to talk to you." He kissed the tip of Gabriel's nose and leaned back. "I'll send him in and wait outside, okay?"

"Sure thing." Gabe folded his hands on his lap. He watched Sam leave the room—watched him briefly pause in the doorway before disappearing into the hallway.

Michael walked into the room, hands in his pockets, eyes fixed on his shoes, hair a little wild—not so tidy and slick as usual. He licked his lips and stopped beside Gabriel's bed. "Hey, Gabriel." He shifted awkwardly. His eyes flicked up damp and nervous. "I... wanted to apologize."

Gabriel frowned. "Apolo—" He sat up straighter. "No. Don't you dare—none of this is your fault, Mike." He held his hand out, and beckoned Michael closer, eyebrows pulled together. "C'mere. Come here, baby brother."

Michael's face crumpled, and he rushed forward, (carefully) wrapping his arms around Gabriel tight as he could without restricting his breathing. He buried his face in Gabe's neck as Gabriel slipped his arms around his chest. Gabriel's fingers tangled in Michael's shirt.

"Hey, hey, it's okay." Gabriel kissed Michael's cheek. "Get up here." He tugged at Mike, until Michael pulled himself up onto the bed to lay beside Gabriel, arms still locked around the smaller man's body.

Michael took a deep—if shaky—breath. "I was so scared."

Gabriel closed his eyes, and managed to turn on his side and hug his brother in a way that didn't tug on his IV. He nestled against Michael with a soft sigh. "I know, Mike, I know." He brushed a few stray strands of hair from Michael's face. "But we're okay now. We're all okay. Nick is... Sam told me. That Nick is in jail."

Michael laughed, bitter and quiet. "Yeah." He wrapped his fingers around Gabriel's wrist. "Charged with all sorts of things like statutory rape and domestic abuse and attempted murder. You know. Fun stuff." He smiled tightly.

"God." Gabriel stroked his fingers through Michael's hair, in a steady soothing motion. "We're all pretty fucked up, huh?"

Michael nodded. "Pretty fucked, yeah."

"But we gotta remember..." Gabriel took a breath. "We gotta remember, this is not our fault. You got that, Michael? None of this is your fault, or my fault. It's all Nicholas. He's the bad one who tried to hurt us all." He chewed on his lip. "And now we'll be okay because he's all locked up."

Michael nodded again. "Yeah..."

...

"Mr. D'Angelo..." The man—Officer Krantz, his nametag read—tapped his stack of paperwork on the table and set it down again, straight and careful. "Were you aware of Nicholas and Michael's... relationship?"

Gabriel snorted. He rubbed his hands over his face, leaning his elbows on the table. "Oh, I knew. How could I not know? Nick would use my guest bedroom. But you know... What was I supposed to do?" He scratched at his back. He needed... something there. Needed his stupid wings or a backpack or something to ground him. He sighed. "You know I used to keep track of how often my brother threatened me? I lost count a few years ago. If I were to, I dunno, tell someone about my oldest brother taking advantage of my littlest brother... Well you can understand that when someone promises to cut your fingers off if you tell someone, all desire to report them kinda... goes out the window." He waved his hand off to the side. "And of course, I wouldn't ever think to report him for abuse. You guys know about that right? About the likelihood of victims to report their abusers? Why would I report him? He loves me, right? Cares about me. He only hurt me because I was being bad or misbehaving. Obviously it was always my fault." Gabriel smiled.

Officer Krantz shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I... I see." He was a bit of a rookie. Wasn't entirely prepared to deal with this sort of thing. "And uh..." He tapped his pen against his papers. "The others—did they know?" He cleared his throat.

Gabriel shrugged, pulled a face. "Nope." He leaned back in his chair. The hard plastic pressed into his spine. He appreciated that. "Nick kept it all hidden from everyone but me. I was like... his little personal helper." He looked down at his nails (he'd need to cut and maybe paint them when he had the chance, later) rather than meet the officer's eyes.

Krantz nodded. "Alright..." He scribbled something down on the top sheet of paper. "You know what? We'll have someone follow up later, but for now... You can go." He stood, gathering his stack of paperwork in one arm, and left the room. He left the door ajar.

Gabriel scuffed his sneakers—tasteful gold and blue polka dots—against the floor before he stood and made his way to the door. The hall looked deserted, and he thanked God or whoever else for that. Tip-toed his way toward the back exit. He pulled his phone from his pocket and hit speed dial.

Sam picked up just as Gabriel shut the door behind him.

"Gabe? You ready to go?"

Gabriel smiled. "Yeah. Could you uh... come around out back maybe?" He chewed on his lip and stuck one hand in his pocket, leaning against the brick wall of the building. He looked up at the hazy sky. "I'm gonna be honest, the thought of walking across the parking lot right now is terrifying."

"Yeah—Yes, absolutely. Hang tight. I'll be right there."

Gabriel shoved his phone back in his pocket and covered his face with his hands. Took a deep breath. "Jesus Christ."

Sam pulled around the corner in Gabriel's car and honked.

Gabe twitched. He lowered his hands to wave at Sam and made his way to the passenger side, tugging the door open. Before he sat in the car, he tore off his jacket and tossed it in the back seat. He rolled his sleeves up and settled into the seat, and slammed the car door shut. "Hey Sambo."

"Hey. You okay?" Sam pulled back around to the road. The car grumbled.

Gabriel shrugged. He undid a few buttons on his checkered shirt, and sighed, sliding down in his seat. "The stomach stings a bit and I kinda feel like I'm gonna explode, but I'm alright." He fiddled with the edge of his shirt. "Can I go home with you?" He pulled his legs up, and rested his chin on one knee.

"Sure." Sam took his eyes from the road for a split second to shoot Gabe a sweet smile and reached his free arm out to squeeze his shoulder. He turned in the direction of his apartment complex, and flipped his bangs out of his eyes. "Whatever you want. I've got leftovers if you're allowed to eat 'em."

Gabriel grinned. "Yeah, yeah I'm good with food. Mostly healed, the doctor said." His mouth twisted, then. He wrapped his arms around his legs. He sighed. Sam frowned and let his hand drift from Gabe's shoulder to cup at the base of his neck. He pressed his fingertips lightly into the soft skin just under Gabriel's jaw. Moved his thumb in tiny circles.

"..." He pulled into the parking garage at his complex. "Your wings are on my couch." He pulled the keys from the ignition.

Gabriel peered up at him from behind one arm. "Yeah?"

"Yes." Sam leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Gabriel's forehead. Then got out of the car, and walked around the front to open Gabriel's door and take his hand. They took a moment to stand with Sam holding Gabriel tight in his arms, until Gabriel drooped against him. He lifted Gabriel off the ground.

Gabe wrapped his legs around Sam's waist and his arms around Sam's shoulders and whispered, "You're too nice."

Sam shook his head. "No, I just care about you."

Gabriel laughed. "Thank God someone does."

Sam rubbed Gabriel's back before shouldering his way into his apartment. "I'm not the only one, you know." He kicked the door shut behind him. "Your family loves you, and Balthazar and Kali love despite their snark. Crowley loves you. A lot of people love you. Some won't admit it, but they still care." He dropped down onto the couch and set his hands on Gabriel's hips. "I promise."

"Hard promise to keep, Cupcake." Gabriel nuzzled Sam's neck. He leaned back a little in Sam's lap. "Kisses?" Raised his eyebrows with a hopeful glint in his eye.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Fine." He cupped Gabriel's face in his hands, palms soft and warm, and pushed their mouths together, all gentleness and care. Gabriel fisted his hands in the front of Sam's shirt with a small smile, and closed his eyes. He'd just let Sam shower him with little marks of love.

And Sam would gladly oblige.

...

The police never sent someone to follow up on Gabriel's little session. Didn't bother the family at all. Shockingly. Gabriel was just glad he was left alone. He sat on his couch beside Sam, head rested on his shoulder, legs thrown across Sam's lap, watching Star Wars.

Well.

Sam was watching. Gabriel was napping.

Sam slid his arm behind Gabriel's back, with his middle finger hooked through Gabe's belt loop. Gabriel squirmed and mumbled something incoherent and settled down again. Sam smiled. He grabbed the remote and turned the TV off. "Gabriel?" He tilted his head so he could see Gabe's face. Gabriel's mouth twitched. His eyes fluttered open.

"Is the movie over?"

Sam grinned. "Yeah. You wanna go to bed?"

Gabriel squinted at Sam, and bumped their noses together. "Yes." He kissed Sam. "I'm very sleepy." He smiled.

Sam shook his head and bundled Gabriel into his harms. "Yeah? I had no clue."

Gabriel snorted. "You're mean."

"Oh, the meanest."

Gabriel pushed his face against Sam's chest, and drifted off again before Sam even made it to the bedroom. Sam shook his head. He laid Gabriel out in the bed and tucked him in before settling into the chair in the corner. He pulled Gabe's electric cello toward him—one of the many instruments littering the floor—and set about to practice the fingering of a Prokofiev concerto.

Light from the sunset filtered through the tall stained glass bedroom window and sent soft pink light across Gabriel's face.

Sam smiled.