Sam flung the door closed behind him, watching as Gabriel staggered to the bed. He'd refused Sam's help getting to their room, and had even tried to shake him off, but like hell was that happening. "You ready to explain what just happened back there?" Sam demanded, his hands resting anxiously on his hips as he stared down at his boyfriend.
There was no reply forthcoming, instead Gabriel exhaled a long breath and let his head fall into his hands, fingertips rubbing at his temples.
"Are – Have you gotten – your grace back?" Sam pressed, his voice trapped somewhere between fear and hurt.
"No." Gabriel muttered, never lifting his head.
"So, what then? What's happening?"
Finally, Gabriel looked up, meeting Sam's gaze. The ex-archangel's eyes red rimmed, with blood still staining the skin of his nose and mouth. "I'm changing." He replied flatly. "The trails are changing me."
Sam went ridged, arms dropping to his side, "S-since when?" He asked, shakily.
Gabriel released another sigh, "It started after the first trial. Just small things. A flickering light, the TV glitching out. Nothing particularly noticeable." He shrugged nonchalantly. "Until today."
Sam swallowed hard, heart racing. He watched Gabriel closed, "You mean back there?" He asked cautiously.
Gabriel's eyes flickered to the door before dropping his gaze back to his feet. "I'm tired Sam, can we do this…"
"What happened at the gas station?" Sam demanded firmly.
"I saved my brother's life." Gabriel stated firmly, turning to meet Sam's worried stare. "That's all that matters."
Sam shook his head, "Is it? Because you just decorated the infirmary in glass and you've still got blood staining your face, and we currently have an unconscious demon locked up in out dungeon, so no Gabriel, that's not all that matters. Not to me!" Sam's voice broke, tears welling in his eyes.
The room fell uncomfortably silent, and the pair stared at each other. The atmosphere thickening by the second as the truth expanded between them. A truth neither of them had wanted to acknowledge to each other before.
"You're dying." Sam whispered, his voice trembling, just as badly as the hands hanging at his side.
The words hung in the air for a few seconds, until Gabriel exhaled a shaky breath and muttered, "Yeah."
It was followed by yet more silent, then tension palpable.
"No." Sam announced firmly. "No, this ends."
"What?" Gabriel frowned, staring at his boyfriend.
"We're not doing this. It's not worth it." Sam argued, shaking his head. "It's not worth losing you."
Gabriel's eyes widen, "You want me to stop the trial?" He said slowly, as if confused.
"Yes. – We'll find another way."
Gabriel watched Sam closely, before shaking his head, "No."
"What?"
"I said no. I'm finishing these trials; I'm closing the gates."
"No!"
"Yes!"
"Gabriel, it's going to kill you!" Sam yelled.
Gabe shrugged, "I'm not even meant to be here. I died, and then Purgatory accidently spat me out and I've been living on borrowed time ever since."
"So!" Sam snapped furiously, waving his arms, "None of us are. We've all died at some point, that doesn't mean we just throw ourselves in front of a speeding bullet."
Gabriel scoffed, shaking his head, "That's all you and Dean have been doing these past few years, why am I so different?"
"Because I can't lose you!" Sam announced, "I love you too much to lose you. I can't survive that again."
Gabriel stared at him for a minute, his brain short circuiting, then he inhaled sharply. "I – I love you too." He confessed, tears in his eyes. "Which is exactly why I'm doing this. For you. For Claire. Hell, even for Dean and Cas. You all deserve to have a better life. One without all this…" He waved at the room, "Madness. I want Claire to go to college and have the normal life you and Dean didn't get to have. I want you to go out there and find the happiness you deserve."
"I already have it." Sam cut in, rushing over to the side of the bed, and crouching down in front of the ex-archangel. "With you."
Gabriel swallowed thickly, shaking his head, eyes closed. "And what about the rest of the world?" He asked thickly. "What about the innocent people whose lives are ripped apart by demons and angels, and the things that go bump in the night? What about them, Sammy?" He asked, opening his eyes finally. "Are you willing to let the world suffer so we get to live happily ever after? Because I'm not. I spent a thousand plus years petulantly abandoning my duty to humanity, it's time I step up and do what I was created to do."
Sam stared at him, tears rolling down his cheeks. "This isn't fair."
"Whoever said life was fair Sammy?" Gabriel whispered brokenly, his hand lifting to wipe at Sam's tear-stained cheek while rocking forward to rest his forehead against his boyfriend's.
/*\/*\/*\
Dean swept the last of the glass into the pan and straightened. He let the small shards slip from the pan into the trashcan, a mixture of musical tickling and loud crashing filling the silence. He'd sent Claire and Cas off the moment Sam had left with Gabriel. Setting the dustpan aside, Dean headed off to the maintenance room to grab a couple of fresh lightbulbs. The pale and blooded image of Gabriel following him.
It was all his fault, he knew. He should never have forced Gabriel into starting the trials. He should have stuck to his original plan and done them himself. They could have found another hellhound, but no, he'd been selfish. He'd been angry. – But most importantly, he'd been jealous.
Dean hated to admit it, but ever since he'd found out about Sam and Gabriel, he'd been crumbling under the weight of that jealously. It wasn't that he wasn't happy for his kid brother, and it wasn't that he didn't want Sam to find someone who loved and understood him. It was that it was a guy, that Sam didn't have to hide.
Except he had, hadn't he. That was why he hadn't told Dean in the first place, too scared of Dean's reaction. Something twisted sickeningly in his gut and he slapped the door behind him, stomping back to the infirmary with his arms full.
Sam had feared Dean's reaction, just as Dean had spent his whole life being terrified of his father. – Even after the old man had died. And he'd behaved exactly how Sam had expected him to, he'd yelled and been an all-round dick about it. Worse, he'd tried to break them up, tried to threaten Gabriel. Tried to undermine their relationship at the beginning, and when that didn't work, he'd signed Gabriel up for a suicide mission.
Dean felt sick, and ashamed of himself. He'd allowed his own insecurities and self-loathing to break his brother's heart.
Sam's words from the earlier that morning played over and over in his mind as he replaced the bulbs. 'And I can't save him. I'm going to have to do it again. Watch someone I love die, and I - I don't know if I can go through that again.' – 'Just be grateful you still have Cas' – 'He did it to protect you, you know that.'
Stepping down from the ladder with a sigh, Dean closed it and set it against the wall, then flicked the switch to check the lights, before turning it off again and headed off towards the kitchen. He needed a drink. It wasn't until he yanked open the refrigerator door that he remembered they were out of beer, and slammed it closed again with a frustrated grunt. He turned, heading back out of the kitchen. There was a bottle of whiskey in the library after all.
The library was thankfully still empty when he arrived. Dean marched past the abandoned table, where he and Sam had set up the projector while they waited for Cas and Gabriel to return. Stopping in front of the decanter, Dean poured himself a large one and then took a seat in one of the leather chairs with a sigh.
He'd barely sat down when he heard the familiar sound of tapping and then a fury head plopped itself down on his lap. Dean stared at the dog for a moment, lips pressed into a thin line. He'd never particularly been a dog person, but he couldn't deny the mutt had grown on him over the past few months. So, with another sigh, he lowered his hand to the dog's head and began to scratch at its ear. "I know, pal. It blows." He muttered softly, meeting the creature's dark eyes before lifting his glass to his lips.
Dean let his head fall back against the chair, his eyes closed, and listened to his breathing. When he opened his eyes to take another drink, he almost leapt out of his skin. "Dammit Cas!" He snapped as his eyes focused on his angelic friend. "How many times!" He added, frustrated.
"I'm sorry Dean."
Taking a breath and waiting for his heart to stop racing, or at least return to its normal Castiel rhythm, Dean took in the sight of the angel. His gaze travelling over the black dress pants and up to the washed grey AC/DC t-shirt. – The one he'd found in a thrift store years ago but had never worn, because it had never been intended for him.
Swallowing thickly, he tore his eyes away and took a drink.
"I hope you don't mind. Claire…"
"It's fine." Dean muttered, "Where is she?"
"She went to check on Gabriel."
"Uh." Dean nodded,
Lifting his hand from Riot's head to wave it off. Cas hovered in front of him until Dean grumbled. "Sit down, man."
The angel took the other seat with a satisfied sigh of relief that drew Dean's attention away from the glass in his hand. He stared at Cas for the first time since the angel had reappeared in his life. He looked – different, and not simply because he was out of that god awful trench coat. He had a familiar paleness to his skin, and a tiredness that Dean hadn't seen in almost five years. His stomach twisted anxiously. "Where have you been?"
Cas lifted his head and met Dean's gaze, brows pinched, "In the room Clai…"
"I mean, for the past five months." He corrected sharply, jaw instinctively tightening.
Cas stiffened for a second before slumping into the chair. "Travelling. Trying to keep off heaven's radar."
Dean took a sip of his whiskey to keep from bitching at him again about his disappearing act. He was simply too done with it all. Too tired of being angry. Riot whined and yanked his head away from Dean's hand, shooting him the stink eye before padding over to make friends with Cas.
With the dog's head in his lap now, Cas ran his palm calmly over the animal's fur as he spoke. "I was trying to keep them away from you."
"Yeah."
"And tonight, proves I was right." Cas declared firmly.
Dean's head snapped around to stare at Cas, "This place is warded Cas, you'd have…."
"But you wouldn't have been!" He replied sharply, fixing Dean with a hard glare. "The second you, - or Sam, - stepped outside of this place they would have grabbed you and tried to use you to force me to give up the angel tablet." Castiel turned his head, features become pale and pinched with pain.
Dean frowned, leaning forward, "Cas?"
"You're my weakness Dean, and heaven knows that. – Naomi knows that."
The air in the room vanished and Dean's heart stopped beating. It felt like it lasted for hours, but he know it was mere seconds. He licked at his lips and got to his feet, walking over to the decanter. He refilled his glass, he hadn't even realised he'd finished, and poured one for Cas.
"Here."
"I don't drink, Dean."
"You know I know that's bullshit." Dean challenged, "Or have you forgotten the liquor store." His lip curled softly at the memory.
Cas returned the gentle smile that melted into a pained wince when he took the drink, "Thank you."
Dean grunted a reply and headed back to his own seat. Settling back in, he watched Cas sip at his whiskey. "How bad is it?" Jerking his head to Cas' side.
Castiel swallowed and sighed, "It'll heal." He muttered.
"I remember how you got the last time you cut yourself off from Heaven." Dean said nonchalantly, even though he felt anything but. Because boy, did he remember. He can still recall the weight of Cas' body and the gut-wrenching look of him half dead on a motel bed. He remembered the panic and fear that had flooded in as he'd stood there, staring at a half unconscious Cas, pale and looking like death warmed up. – Not much different to now. While he hadn't wanted to admit it to himself at the time, that had been his last straw. That had been what made his mind up for him.
"It's worth it." Castiel announced.
Dean hummed, nodding, "To protect the tablet."
Cas looked at him for a long while, "If heaven gets the tablet, I have no idea what they'll do with it, but whatever it is, it won't be good. They say that just want to protect it, return it to a safe place, but…" He shook his head, "I don't trust them, not anymore. – Not for a very long time." He confessed regretfully.
Dean nods in agreement. "I'm sorry, man. I know what it's like when family lets you down."
The room falls silent, the pair unsurprisingly at ease just sharing each other's company. At least until Cas breaks it with a question. "What's that?" He nods to the projector.
"It's what we found in room 7B." He replied, then pushes himself to his feet and walks over, lifting the diary they hadn't even opened yet.
Dean feels Cas behind him, but doesn't look until the angel speaks. "You think it will tell us how to cure a demon?"
"Only one way to find out." Dean said, flicking the switch on the projector.
"Should we not wait for Sam and Gabriel?"
Dean glanced over at the library entrance, "I think they've got more important stuff to deal with right now."
Castiel stared at him, before nodding and pulling out one of the chairs, turning it towards the white screen Sam and Dean had constructed.
Dean started the projector and pulled out the seat across from Cas. "Should have brought popcorn." He muttered with a dry laugh.
"I did attempt to buy you pie, but they had apparently sold out." Cas replied matter-of-factly.
Dean stared at him until the sound of voices on screen drew his attention away.
"This new type of exorcism, how does it work?"
Dean's shifted in his seat as he watched a nervous looking man, cigarette in hand, facing away from the camera.
"Simon, come." Another male voice calls.
The young man, Simon, stubs out his cigarette and scrambles to his feet. "I don't know, this is my - first time."
The woman follows, pausing behind Simon as he collected some items from a table.
"Is that Abaddon?"
Dean turned at the sound of his brother's voice. Sam stood, face flushed and tired, Claire at his side.
"Where's Gabe?"
"Sleeping?" Sam informed, his voice rough and flat. He and Claire pulled up chairs.
Turning back to the screen, staring at woman in the projection. "It's got to be the chick she possessed." He replied belatedly. "She not nearly kill-y enough."
The camera follows Simon down some steps and into a room, the sound of grunting echoing in the quiet. Not-Abaddon moves the camera over the table, revealing a collection of ancient books, a knife and holy water, but panning up to focus on another, older man.
"Hurry, we must do it now."
The pair move aside to reveal a large man, chained to the floor, snarling at the pair. Eyes black as pitch. The camera zoomed it on the man's face.
"Hey, those chains look exactly like the ones in our dungeon." Sam said, leaning closer.
"Your what?" Cas frowned, looking between the pair.
"Where do you think Crowley is?" Dean smirked.
"The date is August 3rd, 1958. This is trial 19, hour one. My subject is Peter Kent. Mr Kent is the father of two young sons, and three weeks ago, he was possessed by a demon. I'm going to ask you a question now. When you crawled into Mr Kent, and ate his children. How did it feel?"
The camera focused on the demon once more. "Orgasmic." It laughed curly.
Father Thompson stepped forward and stabs something into the demon's neck.
"What was that?" Sam asked, getting up and reaching for the diary at Dean's elbow.
"The first dose has been administered."
Dean twisted to look up at his brother, "Well? What's the Padre dosing number one dad with?"
It took a few minutes for Sam to flick through the pages. Dean knew he'd found it when his brows lifted, "Yeah, his own purified blood."
Dean exchanged a look with Cas, before looking back to his brother, "Purified how?"
"Before he started, Father Thompson went to confession."
They all turned back to the screen only to find it had gone blank for a second. When it came back, Father Thompson was back at the demon's side.
"This is trial 19, hour 2. - When you ate his children, how did it feel?"
"Stringy."
Father Thompson stabbed the syringe into the man's neck again. "The second dose has been administered."
"How long does this go on for?" Dean asked, as the image cut off once again.
"Eight hours." Sam replied matter-of-factly.
"I really should have made popcorn." Dean sighed, shooting Cas a smile.
They all made themselves comfortable, as Father Thompson continued to demand the same question, over and over.
"How did it feel?" The demon continuing to sass back, though his enthusiasm seemed to waning.
By the sixth dose, the demon was begging for Father Thompson to stop. Sam and Dean sat up straighter, eyes glued to the screen.
"Hour eight." Father Thompson said wearily, giving the demon its final injection, before turning back to the table. He looked at the camera, the strain of the whole evening etched into his face. He looked a decade old. "The subject is prepped." He announced, inhaling deeply, then turned to Father Simons with a nod.
The young priest, who'd been growing increasingly anxious throughout the film, stepped forward with his rosary held aloft, fear etched into his features. Father Thompson picked up a knife and stepped forward. He dragged it across his palm before slamming his hand over the demon's mouth and began to recite the exorcism, Father Simon joining in.
The demon fought for a long few seconds, screaming painfully, before slumping and falling back onto the ground. Father Thompson remained at his side, and the camera moved in. Finally, the demon opened its eyes, the demonic black fading.
"When you ate his children, how did it feel?" Father Thompson said quietly.
"They were screaming, and I laughed." The demon said, beginning to cry. "Why did I laugh? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. God, I was a monster."
Thompson exhaled a breath and gripped the demon – the ex-demon's face, "But now you are a man again. You have been saved."
Dean looked back at Sam, then to Cas, seeing his shock mirrored back to him. The film forgotten.
"Did he just - cure a demon?" Sam asked, surprised, echoing Dean's own thoughts. "That wasn't a normal exorcism." He observed, looking down at the book open in front of him.
"No shit."
"Lustra is Latin for 'wash' or 'cleanse'." Cas informed, frowning.
"Does – Does this mean…" Claire asked cautiously, looking between them all.
Sam inhaled deeply. "Uh, I mean, I have the exorcism right here," He gestured with the book. "All we need is the blood, consecrated ground and we have a demon."
The room fell silent with the enormity of what they had ahead of them, and the consequences.
"We could – we could just – stop." Dean said tightly, holding his brother's gaze. "Tell Gabriel we didn't find anything."
Sam stared down at the book, jaw clenched and hands trembling. Clearly tempted at the offer. "And just let demons keep running riot over the world. Gabe doesn't want that." Sam shook his head. "He wants to give us a chance at a normal life."
Dean exhaled, turning his gaze to Cas. "What about you? If we do this, it's closing the gates for good."
Cas nodded thoughtfully.
"You're not going back." Claire said desperately. "You can't, they've already tried to kill you."
"If I stay…" Cas muttered, looking awkwardly over at Dean.
If he stays, he'll be human. – Mostly. He'll get hurt. He'll turn to drugs to cope, just like… - Dean turned his head, closing his eyes tight against the memory of a different future and a different Cas.
The room was silently once more.
/*\/*\/*\
Sam sat on the edge of the couch with Father Thompson's diary pressed between his hands. Everything they needed was right there, in his hands. The final trial within reach. He should feel relieved, excited, determined. Instead, there was nothing but dread in his stomach and sorrow in his heart.
Looking up through his lashes, he stared at Gabriel, sleeping off the drama of the morning, and his chest tightened so painful it stole his breath and brought tears to his eyes.
They could burn it. That had been Dean's suggestion. Burn it all, make a pact of secrecy and pretend to keep searching. Never finding the answer to this mysterious cure. Never completing the final trial.
"Gabe would recover eventually. Right Cas?" Dean had insisted, "And we just keep on carrying on."
God, his brother had no idea how much he wanted to agree to that. How much he desperately wanted to sweep all this under the carpet.
He was finally happy. Finally settled and at peace with his life. He had a family, though not the kind he'd have ever imagined. He had a job he genuinely loved, again, not what he'd imagined. The thought of losing a single piece of this life he'd constructed from misshapen parts filled him with terror.
He watched the sheets rise and fall with each breath Gabriel took and tried to envision his future in a world without the annoying sarcastic little bastard. A world without demons or angels manipulating their lives at every turn. They knew they'd still be monsters to fight. This wasn't going to get rid of everything that goes bump in the night, but it was a hell of a start. It would make life just a little bit easier.
How would he spend that life? Sam wondered. Eventually, he'd stop grieving. He done it before, obviously. He'd lost the woman he'd expected to spend the rest of his life with, and he'd survived.
Eventually, he'd move on. Find someone else, some faceless person, maybe have kids. Maybe at some point he and Dean could give this place up and become normal. Gets houses and jobs, just as Bobby had, hunt on the side. He'd keep living until the day he just stopped.
Would he be reunited with Gabriel when it was over? Would Gabriel end up in heaven, waiting for me? He was human now, surely that's what would happen.
"Your worrying is keeping me awake." Gabriel said drowsily. He rolled over and craned his neck to looked at Sam.
Sam exhaled a long breath and looked up slowly, trying to smile. "How are you feeling?"
"Lonely." Gabriel muttered, "Come to bed." He flipped the covers back in invitation.
Sam scoffed out a dry laugh and rolled his eyes. "It barely 2 PM."
Gabriel grinned, "Just in time for some afternoons delight then." He winked suggestively.
Shaking his head, Sam put the diary on the bed and got up. "You're in no condition for any delight, afternoon or otherwise." He said, while toeing off his boots and padding over to the bed.
"Spoil sport." Gabriel smile, rolling over to watch Sam slide between the cover. "I guess I'll have to settle for snuggling then."
Gabriel snuggled over, resting his head comfortably in the dip of Sam's should. Sam settled his arm across the pillows and stared up at the ceiling for a few seconds then dropped his gaze to the top of Gabriel's head.
Lifting his hand, he began to play with the short hair behind his boyfriend's ear. It caused Gabriel to purr like a satisfied cat and push up into the touch. Sam's heart clenching achingly and fresh tears filled his eyes.
They lay there silently for a few minutes, and Sam began to think Gabe had fallen asleep once more. Until his rough sleep riddled voice cut through the quiet.
"What's happened?" He asked drowsily.
Sam knew he couldn't keep anything from Gabriel, angel or not. "Nothing." He said anyway, hoping Gabe was too tired and wiped to be paying attention.
It was a fool's wish, he realised, when Gabriel tilted his head and forced his tired eyes open. "Your tense. Is it because of earlier?" He asked cautiously, brows furrowed.
Sam turned his head, fixing his eyes back on the ceiling. He said nothing for a long while, feeling as if Gabe's stare were burning into his profile. Inhaling deeply and swallowing the bile that was attempting to climb up his throat, he bit the bullet.
"We - We found the - the cure." He whispered the last words, as if it were a secret.
Gabriel continued to stare at him, and Sam continued to glare up at the off-white ceiling tiles.
"And?" Gabriel finally said, settling back down. His arm snaked over Sam's waist and he pulled himself closer.
The only sound in the room was their breathing, and the crushing pressure of their future. Sam lifted his free hand and swept at the tear rolling down his left cheek, inhaling a deep wet breath. Gabriel turned his head, looking up at Sam for a few seconds before shifting up and cupping his cheek. His thumb stroked away another tear, then he gently guided Sam down, at the same moment he pressed up into a kiss.
It was slow and gentle, and filled with heartbreak. The pair achingly aware how little time they had left.
Sam pulled away, cradling Gabriel's cheek. He opened his mouth, desperate to try and convince the other man to stop. To walk away from the trials. - To stay with him.
Gabriel shook his head, tears in his eyes, reading Sam's mind.
Closing his eyes against the pain, Sam hung his head. He didn't look up until the bed shifted and the covers were flung aside. He watched as Gabriel flung a leg over his thighs, straddling him, then he leant forward, recapturing Sam's trembling lips. I
Sam held Gabriel's face between his hands, examining his expression. He shook his head when he recognised the familiar lustful intent. "You're not well." He argued .
Gabriel scoffed, "What's it gonna do, kill me?" Sam glowered at him, unamused. "Honestly, Sam, I'd rather go out happy, but we both know biting the dust while riding your impressive schlong isn't how this story ends, so..." He leaned forward and kissed Sam.
Sam melted, pushing all thoughts of the trials aside and allowing himself to become lost in the touch and taste of the man he loves. Gabriel's arms wrap tightly around Sam's neck, holding on as tightly as Sam needs to.
A/N: Yes, I merged Father Thompson's exorcisms into one to save time.