Chapter 14
Sam winced as he rubbed at the bruise on his neck from where the suit of armour had grabbed him, his eyes glancing over to where Dean stood with Charlie.
"You okay?" Claire asked, concern thick in her tone.
"I'm fine." "He snapped, pissed at her for disobeying him. Of course if she hadn't he may not have been able to hold off that impossibly strong armour, he was just glad it was over.
"Aren't you glad I came now?" Claire grinned, either oblivious of Sam's anger or just plainly choosing to ignore it.
Sam looked at the girl, brow raised, unimpressed. "You're still grounded. I suggest you tell Isaac you won't be seeing him till graduation." Sam watched her face fall with a wicked thrill.
"Seriously? Oh come on." She groaned petulantly. "You know this is your fault right?"
Sam raised an intrigued brow, folding his arms over his chest as he waited for her to explain that theory.
"I mean if you'd taken me hunting once in a while I wouldn't have to sneak off on my own."
Sam narrowed his eyes at her. "Excuse me?"
"Claire pressed her lips tight together. "Huh, what?" she looked at him innocently.
"How long have you been….sneaking off?" suddenly alarmed.
Claire stared at her feet, shrugging. "A couple of times."
Sam looked over her head to Dean and Charlie who were now watching the exchange, taking a deep breath he caught Claire's eyes again. "You've been hunting?" he demanded, needing clarification.
The teenager bleached, turning to glance pleadingly over at Dean.
"Claire!"
"Not really." She sighed. "I joined a paranormal group. We head out once a month and investigate supposedly haunted buildings. If I find a real one I call Garth so he can send someone to deal with it."
"Garth!" Sam yelled furiously.
"It's no big deal. I don't do the salt and burn myself, I'm more like a scout." Claire defended.
Sam clenched his jaw. "I'm going to kill him. – So while Gabe thought you were off camping with friends, you were really hunting?" he said through gritted teeth. "Do you know how reckless that is? Anything could have happened to you!"
"I just said I wasn't hunting, I was scouting."
Sam threw up his hands, his head shaking. He turned to Dean. "Can you believe this?"
Dean shrugged. "Garth knew she was out there."
"That's supposed to make it better?"
"What's the big deal, she can clearly handle herself." Charlie interrupted.
Sam shot the redhead a frustrated look. "Not helping Charlie. – You, Me and Gabriel are going to be having a serious talk when we get home." He growled, turning back to Claire.
Claire sighed dramatically, her shoulders slouching.
"But you're not going till after the battle, right?" Charlie quickly asked. "I mean, I've already lost half of my army, you can't take my best fighter."
Sam looked at her like she'd grown a second head. "Did you miss the part about her being grounded?"
"Hey, it's the least you can do after blocking me from banging a fairy." Charlie argued.
"She has a point." Both Dean and Claire agreed.
"Look the battles not until noon tomorrow, why don't you guys head back to your motel, sleep on it and you know…come back tomorrow." Charlie grinned confidently, walking out of the tent like the queen she was.
_What Doesn't Kill You_
Sam sat on the chair by the window watching Claire sleep. He refused to let her out of his sight, so had forced Dean to grab another room for the night. He still couldn't believe she'd been hunting all this time. Scouting, his mind corrected, like that somehow made it any better. He'd already spent an hour yelling at Garth for not telling him. Of course Garth in his usually Garth way had pointed out that informing Sam would have only meant Claire would stop telling him, and it was better if someone knew, right? – Dean had unhelpfully grumbled that was what he'd said. – Sam knew they were right, he just didn't want to admit it. He'd been so determined to keep Claire out of the life, in respect for her parents. – And maybe out of fear.
A tap on the window startled Sam. Twisting his head he saw Dean waving for him, looking back at Claire for a moment he reluctantly left the room. "What?"
"How is she?" Dean asked, holding out a bottle of beer to him.
"Fine." Sam sighed warily. "Sleeping." He took the bottle and moved to join Dean on the hood of the Impala.
They sat drinking there beers in relative silence, the only sound coming from the road a few feet away.
"So…" Dean cleared his throat. "What's next?"
Sam glanced at his brother out of the corner of his eye. "She's not fighting tomorrow."
Dean sighed. "Spoil sport."
"She could have gotten herself killed Dean!"
"Yeah, and she knows that. - And she knows your pissed." He sighed.
"If it had been Ben?" Sam asked quietly, staring down at his bottle, regretting the question the second it left his lips. He'd made a promise never to mention the boy or his mother again, and he'd already broken that promise once.
Dean stiffened next to him before relaxing. "I'd probably be doing the same." He conceded. "So you guys are heading back to your small town lives?"
Sam inhaled deeply, his fingers flexing against the cool glass. "I'm taking her home. Talk to…. Gabriel, hopefully try to fix things."
"Fix things?" Dean frowned. "What's broken?"
Sam looked at his brother. "Do you really want to know?" He asked quietly, disbelieving.
Dean looked thoughtfully at his boots, inhaling steadily. "Really? No, I don't want to know. - But...you're my brother, and if you need to talk, I'll listen."
Sam sighed warily. "It's fine." He chugged his beer, turning away from his brother's judging gaze.
Dean stared at him for a long minute. "I...I guess I'm jealous, okay?" He confessed softly.
Sam's head snapped around. "Jealous? Of me and Gabriel?"
Dean winced at the implication. "Of how easy it seems to be for you." He murmured. "I can't..." He trailed off for a moment. Sam didn't push, he knew what would happen if he did. "I could never do that, find the balance. - Maybe you were right, about Lisa. I just didn't want to hear it."
"I still shouldn't have brought her up. I'm sorry."
Dean shook his head glibly. "It's fine. – I just…." He sighed sadly. "I always thought that by now I'd have that, you know? The wife and kids."
"You did?" Sam frowned surprised at the confession.
Dean shrugged dismissively. "I really love this life, I do, but….I didn't want to end up like Dad, or Bobby. A lonely alcoholic. – I thought Lisa was my chance. – Hell maybe even Jo." He shook his head with a sad regretful smile. "But it never worked. Lisa never really accepted this, no matter what she said, and I know that. And Jo, well….we just never seemed to be on the same page at the same time."
Sam exhaled slowly, lifting his bottle to his lips, that mournful feeling haunting him at the mention of their fallen friends. "Maybe your just not looking in the right places." He said quietly.
Dean's head snapped around to stare at his brother, brows pinched tightly with a look of innocent confusion. "Meaning?"
Sam watched his brother, beneath that false sense of oblivious-ness he caught the gleam of panic and fear. Shaking his head, Sam turned back to stare at the motel, now wasn't the time for that conversation. "Nothing. Just saying that it's not a lost cause, Dean. – You think I planned on falling for Gabriel?" he caught his breath at the choice of words, but just as quickly forced the thought away. "It just happened. He was there when I needed him, I was there when he needed me, and we kinda just…found each other."
Dean glared at him with a sickened look printed across his face. "Can we keep the chick-flick out of this conversation? Please. I might just barf."
Sam laughed humourlessly. "I'm just saying Dean, don't give up. What you're looking for might be right under your very nose."
"That's it, I'm done." Dean grunted, leaping off the Impala's hood.
Sam laughed as Dean marched determinedly to his room.
_What Doesn't Kill You_
"That was so awesome." Claire announced for the billionth time since they'd left Farmington Hills.
Sam looked over his shoulder at the girl. "Make the most of it, because you're going to be seeing nothing but four walls and text books for the next six months."
Claire rolled her eyes. "Yes, Dad. – I can't believe you gave us that speech, Dean." She laughed, leaning forward and poking the older man in the shoulder.
"It worked, didn't it? We won." The pair chuckled merrily.
"You've still got face paint on your neck. "Sam pointed out to his brother. Dean rubbed at the sport behind his ear, grinning ridiculously, causing Sam to shark his head.
"You sure Annabella's gonna have it all ready?" Claire asked an hour later as they rolled into their small town.
"She didn't sound particularly happy to hear from me, but she agreed." Sam said flatly.
"Have what ready?" Dean asked curiously, his gaze scanning the small town as they cruised along Main Street.
Sam looked over at him. "I begged a favour from a neighbour, asked her if she wouldn't mind cooking us up a thanksgiving dinner, to make up for missing it."
Dean frowned over at his brother. "Thanksgiving? Since when do you care about…?"
"Since apparently it's a thing families do." Sam replied, smiling over at Claire who beamed back at him.
Dean's fingers tightened around the steering wheel. "Right." He murmured, the tension back between them.
"You're staying right?" Claire asked, leaning forward, her folded arms perched on the front seat.
"I…."
"Of course he's staying." Sam said quickly, his gaze locked with Dean's, challenging him to refuse.
"I'm not sure that's a good idea, Sammy." Dean grumbled quietly.
Sam sighed warily. "It's a couple of hours Dean, you seriously can't put your hatred of him aside for a couple of hours?"
Dean looked between Sam and Claire, her blue eyes pleading. "A couple of hours." He surrendered through gritted teeth. "And there better be pie."
_What Doesn't Kill You_
Gabriel inhaled deeply when he saw the Impala parked in front of the house, no doubt Sam was simply dropping off Claire and grabbing what remained of his things. Running for the hills, yet again. Though Gabriel couldn't really blame him, if it was a choice between him and Dean, well there wasn't really a choice. Sam would pick his brother every time, no matter what the guy said or did. They were family after all.
He envied that if he were honest. Sure he'd been close to Michael and Lucifer, and he'd loved them, it was why he'd refused to take a side. The thing was neither of his beloved brother's loved him, not really. Not like the Winchester's loved one another. Angel's just didn't understand that depth of feeling. They loved humans and each other because they were told to, not because it was a natural instinct. - So he'd always expected Sam to leave, to head off with Dean.
Pausing outside the door, Gabriel straightened his spine and filled his lungs, he wasn't going to humiliate himself by looking hurt, not again. He was tired of fighting to keep Sam when the guy obviously didn't want to be there.
He pushed open the door and froze at the sight before him. Dean and Sam sat on the couch, Dean's feet on his coffee table, the pair casually swigging beer while watching a game. Sam turned to look at him when he heard the door fall shut.
"Great, you're home." Sam grinned, getting to his feet. "Claire!" he yelled up the stairs as he reached Gabriel, leaning down to press a brief kiss to the older man's shocked lips.
Gabriel blinked back his confusion, his eyes flickering from Sam's smiling face over to where Dean was scowling at the beer in his hand. "Get your feet off my coffee table." He ordered.
Dean finally looked at him, glaring, challenging.
"Off." Gabriel repeated firmly.
Sam looked over his shoulder, eyes narrowing. "Why don't you go wash up, Dean?"
Gabriel stood staring after the older Winchester, mouth gaping, watching him do as Sam said and heading up to the bathroom. "What's going on?"
"Thanksgiving." Sam stated matter-of-factly as he slid his arm around the ex-angels waist and pulled in up close, his mouth returning to Gabriel's with a vengeance.
"Aw, gross." Claire chuckled, interrupting the moment. "Get a room."
Sam laughed as he released Gabriel and turned to head for the kitchen, a smile stretched happily over his face. Breathlessly Gabriel watched him go, eyes wide with confusion and surprise.
"Dad?" Claire frowned, snapping her fingers in front of the man's face. "You in there?"
Gabriel shook his head, turning his amber gaze to Claire. "You and me are going to have a…."
"I know." Claire sighed, rolling her eyes. "Tomorrow, okay? Sam's already given me the lecture."
"That doesn't mean you're not getting one from me." He said, as Claire headed for the couch where she collapsed down next to the dent created by Dean's body with a sigh, her feet tucked beneath her.
Gabriel stared at her, jumping slightly at the sound of heavy booted footsteps. He turned to watch Dean take the last few steps and then stroll casually over to the couch and take the seat next to Claire, the pair smiling and talking easily. The whole situation gave off a surreal sense of confusion. Unsure what to say or do, Gabriel turned and headed upstairs to wash up.
He expected to walk into his room and find Sam's things already gone. Stuffed in his duffle ready to leave with him, but nothing had been moved. In fact everything he'd taken with him a week ago was now back in their places. His shaving bag sitting on the bathroom cabinet. Gabriel took a sharp breath, his heart beating quickly, hardly believing how wrong he'd been.
"Gabe, dinner's on the table!" Sam yelled up from the bottom of the stairs.
Gabriel startled, looking over his shoulder as if he expected to see Sam standing there, or worse yet, see nothing but dirt and trees. Shaking off the encroaching thought of purgatory, Gabriel washed his hands and headed down, following the sound of voices to the kitchen.
What he found was a table covered with a large dinner and surrounded by familiar faces, not all of them particularly welcome. "What's all this?"
Sam smiled up at him from his seat. "Thanksgiving dinner." He held out the carving knife to the ex-archangel.
Gabriel swallowed thickly, his throat closing round the lump. Taking the knife he stepped up to the turkey. "How….?" He cleared his throat. "How'd you get all this done?"
"With a little help." Sam informed him, already passing the greens to Dean. "I called Annabella, begged her a favour."
Gabriel paused. "Annabella? She helped you?"
"Why wouldn't she?" Dean asked, piling mash potatoes onto his plate, looking at his brother intrigued.
"Annabella doesn't like me, she thinks I…." Sam trailed off, deciding too late that it was probably not a good idea to bring up the woman's opinion of him at the dinner table.
"What?" Dean frowned. "Why?"
"Nothing." Sam shook his head, but the look Dean sent him told him he wasn't going to drop it, and wouldn't eat a thing until he got an answer. Sam sighed, looking up apologetically to Gabriel. "She thinks…."
"He's a player." Gabriel said, cutting Sam off. "He did vanished for a year without a word."
Dean didn't look convinced as he stared between them, but his stomach rumbled at the scent of the food and so he left it. – For now.
A/N: Sorry for the really short chapter this month but I've got some stuff going on and haven't really had the time to sit and type the whole thing up, but I wanted to post something, so here. I hope you like it mostly and I'll try and get the other half to this chapter posted soon. Thank you to everyone who's stuck with me through this and to those who have reviewed, I really appreciate the feedback, it gives me motivation to keep writing.
