Chapter 6:

When Gabriel stumbled back into the house at 8am, Sam's bag was the first thing that caught his eye, the hunter standing over it was the second. "So that's it, you're just going to skip out on us! Should have known really." he shook his head. "You always run away when you don't like your life, don't you Sammy." he spat, his nose wrinkling with his disgust.

"You're hardly one to talk Gabriel." Sam replied harshly, lifting the bag off the floor and throwing it over his shoulder.

Gabriel glared, eyes narrowed. "If you're going, go. We don't need you, anyway!" he spat.

Sam smirked. "Right." he scoffed.

"Listen dick-brain, I'm able to take care of myself and Claire. I'm a fucking archangel!"

"You were a fucking archangel." Sam shot back furiously. "Now you just fucking human."

Gabriel curled his fingers into a tight fist, his knuckles instantly whitening as his face grew red. "Blow me, Winchester! - Oh, no sorry, I forgot, you don't do dudes." he snarled. "Nah, demons you'll fuck, but a guy, god forbid. Even when curling up next to one in bed gets you hard!"

Sam growled and stepped closer, the fury glowing brightly in his eyes, he opened his mouth to speak but the words were dead before they even formed as another voice filled the silence.

"I found the ke…." Claire said running in from the kitchen, and skidding to a halt at the sight of Gabriel and Sam glaring at each other dangerously. "Huh….is everything….?"

"It's fine." Sam said through gritted teeth. He turned to take the keys from Claire with a tight forced smile. "Thanks."

"How long will you be gone?" Claire asked uncomfortable in the sudden, suffocating tension of the room.

"I'm not sure, a few days. I'll call." he said, never looking at the ex-archangel. "You be good and go to school." he said, tugging her into a quick hug. "If there's an emergency and you can't get hold of me, call Garth."

"Okay. You be careful." she pressed a kiss to his cheek, before looking between the two men and deciding to make a hasty retreat. She turned sharply and vanished back into the kitchen and out the back door.

Slowly Sam turned back to stare at Gabriel, who was still glaring at him. He didn't say anything else, choosing instead to shoulder past the shorter man and out the front door. Gabriel remained fixed to his place, staring at the stairs, his heart pounding. He fought every urge to turn and follow Sam out of the house, every urge to tell him to stay save, to call every chance he got. - To pull him into the same heated promising kiss they'd shared a few hours ago before everything went to shit. But he didn't. He just stood in the entrance hall and listened to the familiar rumble of the Impala as it drove away, his anger fading with it.

_What Doesn't Kill You_

The moment Sam hit the highway he could breathe again. Finally. It felt like forever since he'd been on the road, heading off on a case. He turned to his right and sighed at the empty seat beside him, that overwhelming feeling of loss hitting once more. He suddenly realised he hadn't felt that in weeks. - Not as long as he was home.

Home? It was weird thinking of that out of the way wreck of a house as home, but that was what it had become. Home had always been wherever you were at the time, it was never a single place for him. Not until Stanford. Then he'd lost that and it was back to motels and the backseat of the Impala. The closest thing he'd had since then had been Bobby's place, but now that was gone too. It seemed that every time he found somewhere to settle, somewhere to escape the madness of his life, he lost it just as quickly. - Now he was close to doing that again.

It wasn't just the house though, it was the family he'd bizarrely build along with it. He didn't want to think of Gabriel as family, he really didn't, but that was what he was, because he was all Sam had. Gabriel and Claire. It was another of the things his unusual life had taught him. You're not born into a family, you build your own. It had started when he was young with Pastor Jim and Bobby. Then had come Jessica. Ellen and Jo. Rufus - who was more like the crazy uncle who showed up every now and again. - and finally Cas. Dean and his father had been his only blood family.

Sure there had been the Campbell's for a while, but he'd never really felt they were family. Of course he hadn't felt anything at that point, so….

The thing was it all sounded so simple, probably looked simple to, but it wasn't. Not with everything that was happening between him and Gabriel. It was confusing and a disaster waiting to happen, because he wasn't gay and he'd learnt his lesson after Ruby. He made bad choices when left alone. Bad choice that could oh so easily destroy the world. He'd done the same thing after Dean had died the first time, he'd allowed himself to fall into a circle of sex and violence to ease the pain.

The car swerved in the lane as a pain shot through Sam's chest. Dean wasn't dead. He told himself firmly. He just wanted….around. He and Cas were still alive. He had to believe that, because he couldn't survive losing his brother again. Because if Dean really were dead, he might do the one thing he was fighting not to do. He might actually give in and damn the consequences.

_What Doesn't Kill You_

"Gabriel? You okay?" Claire asked cautiously, stepping into the house.

Gabriel lay stretched out on the couch, arm draped dramatically over his eyes. The only reply he offered was a grunt, before flipping over to bury his face into back of the sofa.

She wasn't an idiot, young maybe but not an idiot, - and he's seen her parent's fights enough to know the aftermath of a doozy when she saw it. She'd seen it come, it had been building for weeks, before Sam headed off on that first case. She'd hoped that them having a little breathing room would have eased the tension, but it only managed to heighten it. And it wasn't just any kind of tension, at seventeen, Claire knew exactly what sexual tension was, she's felt it buzzing through the halls of her high school back in Pontic. But this was worse, because this was in her home, and it was suffocating them all.

She knew the problem wasn't Gabriel. You'd have to be blind not to see how much he was into Sam. It was obvious to her from the moment she'd see him tending the hunters' wounds. Hell, he'd almost died to save him. No, it was all on Sam.

Claire got it, kinda. He was still dealing with losing his brother and was confused over what he was feeling for the ex-archangel. She remembered that feeling, slightly. The uncertainty. She remembered the feeling of fear, from her time as Castiel's vessel. The confusion and love that went through her when she'd looked at Dean Winchester. She hadn't understood any of it at the time, it had been overwhelming, painful, but over the past couple of years, as she'd grown up, began to understand 'adult' emotions, he got it. She imagined it was what Sam was feeling now. He was attracted to Gabriel but couldn't understand why.

The problem was, his confusion was making all their lives a living hell, especially Gabriel's, and Claire feared where it would lead. The two men were all she had now, she couldn't face losing either of them. All she could do was pray that they sorted it out, before it destroyed the only family they all had left.

_What Doesn't Kill You_

Sam threw himself into the case Garth had sent him on, grateful to take out his frustration and anger on the nest of vamps. He didn't allow himself to think about Gabriel, or what had happened between them before he'd hit the road. It took him less than a day to clear out the nest. Standing beside the Impala he frowned down at his feet, he should really head back, but if he was honest he couldn't quite face it just yet. He needed more time, just a few days to think of how to deal with things. - How to make it clear to Gabriel that nothing was ever happening between them.

Shooting off a text to Claire, saying he'd gotten another job, he climbed back behind the wheel and headed towards the nearest town. Kermit. What kind of name was that for a town? He wondered. Dean would have a field day with that one. Sam shook his head, thinking of all the ridiculous Muppet joke his brother would have come up with. He'd been so distracted by the thoughts that he didn't see the dog until it was too late. The creature screaming out as the Impala's front bumper smashed into it.

Wincing guiltily, Sam leapt out of the car and rushed around to the front where the large blood stained Collie, whining in pain, lay on the cold wet tarmac. Dropping to his knees, Sam gently slipped his hands beneath it. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Don't die, okay. Don't die. I'll get help." he mumbled as he eased the whimpering creature of the floor and moved to slide it into the backseat, before jumping back behind the wheel and taking off. "Okay, here we go. Just relax buddy. You'll be fine." he insisted as the Impala speed away from the accident.

It took him the whole of twenty minutes to finally hunt down a vet. Dragging the dog out of the car, he practically ran into the office, the dog drooping from his arms.

"Help! Help. I need help. The dog needs help." Sam panted as he rushed into the veterinary clinic, sighing with relief when the nurse/receptionist came rushing out.

"That way." the nurse ordered, rushing to lead Sam into the back of the clinic.

"Please. He just came out of nowhere in front of my car. He needs a doctor. Are you a doctor?"

"Doctor's coming sir. I'm not sure….."

"You're not sure what? This is an animal hospital. You save animals. Save this animal!" Sam snapped furiously, breathless and agitated.

Suddenly a dark haired woman strolled in. "Roberta, can you escort this man out. Please."

"Yes." the nurse said.

Sam allowed himself to be led away from the injured animal, pausing to look at the doctor. "I did this."

After he'd deposited the dog on the examination table he padded back into the waiting area. He had every intention of leaving but found himself taking a seat to wait, just to make sure the animal was alright. Some forty minutes later the vet reappeared a reassuring smile on her face, and Sam felt himself relax.

"He sustained some serious internal bleeding, there's at least two leg fractures I can see right now, but with some TLC he should pull through for you."

"Thanks Doctor." Sam sighed, leaping to his feet before turning to head for the door.

"You're gonna take the dog?"

Sam looked back at the woman, his gaze flickering between her and the nurse. "Huh…I would. He's not mine." he shook his head.

"He's not anyone's."

Sam looked at her intently. "I…I can't take him. I…" he shook his head. "….travel."

The woman raised a brow and glared, making Sam fidget uncertainly, as if she knew he was lying. "Don't you think you're responsible?"

"Why do you think I brought him here?" Sam frowned.

"Roberta, could you hand this man his trophy on his way out please?"

Sam glared at the doctor and nurse.

"Or maybe if you were such an upstanding guy, you wouldn't have hit him in the first place."

Sam flinched at her words, guilt and anger battling in him. It had been an accident, how the hell was it his fault? But wasn't it always his fault? If he'd been paying more attention, if he'd been looking instead of getting lost in his own head maybe he would have seen the dog before he hit it. "Fine. I'll take him." Sighing, and surrendering to her silent judgement. "…when?"

The vet grinned. "That's my hero." she remarked sarcastically. "I want to keep him for a few days. Is that alright?" she replied distantly.

"Fine." he marched over to the reception desk and snatched up a pen, scribbling down his number. "Call me when he's ready." then he marched out of the clinic.

Heading back to the car, he inhaled slowly. Well, maybe it wasn't all that bad an idea taking the dog in. After all, he might come in useful back at the house, animals were sensitive to demonic signs and no doubt Claire would like a pet. Starting the engine Sam turned in the direction of the nearest motel.

Once he'd gotten a room he headed for the bar on the corner. He'd been there almost three hours and drunk more than Dean did in a day, mostly because the first couple had caused him to start thinking, and he hoped the rest would help him stop. Thinking right now was bad. Thinking would have him doing something incredible stupid.

_What Doesn't Kill You_

This was incredible stupid, part of Sam's mind yelled. That same part that was scolding him over his treatment of Gabriel, so of course he didn't listen. He simply closed his eyes and lost himself in the feeling of being buried deep inside a willing, warm, female body. It was what they did wasn't? Him and Dean. They hunted, they ate, and they fucked. It was the life. So why was there a lead weight in his gut each time he trust deep, groaning breathlessly against damp skin? He'd blocked out the moans of his partner at least ten minutes ago, finding them distracting. Though the way her not too long nails cut down his back felt wonderful. It kept his mind from wondering too far.

He was so close, the white lights were already beginning to flicker behind his eye lids. Then his phone began to ring, the tune telling him it was home. He froze, his head turning sharply to stare at the night stand where it vibrated and glowed in the dark of the room. Sweet Home Alabama screaming from the small speaker. Gabriel had set it, a joke apparently. Even though they weren't in Alabama. "Yeah well, they don't have a song called Sweet Home Indiana!" he'd scoffed.

"Are you going to answer that?" Amelia panted beneath him.

He looked down at the woman he'd brought home from the bar. The woman he'd met two hours before that when he'd rushed into her clinic with a broken and bloody dog. She was watching him intently. "I…." he rolled away from her, reaching for the cell as he positioned himself on the edge of the bed. At almost two in the morning, it had be an emergency and his stomach tightened with fear. "What's wrong?"

"Gabriel broke his leg."

"What! How?" Sam sat up straight.

"Ice skating apparently. - With Rita."

Sam's fingers tightened around the phone. "Where are you?" he demanded angrily.

"With Annabella." Claire replied nervously.

Sam looked at the clock on the nightstand. "Are you okay there?" he meant safe, Claire knew he meant safe.

"Yeah. I'm fine. I just….I thought you should know."

"I can't get back, not for a few days."

"I know." Claire sighed miserably.

Sam felt the bed shift behind him, heard the movement and rustle of clothing, but didn't turn to look. Didn't try to stop her. He saw her moving out of the corner of her eyes.

"You should get some sleep, I'll call you in the morning." he said gentle down the line.

"Okay. Night Sam."

"Night Kiddo." Sam hangs up and stares at his phone.

"You're married." Amelia snapped angrily.

Sam didn't know why he didn't instantly deny it.

"God." she grunted, marching towards the door. "Don't forget to collect the dog before you leave."

Sam heard the door open, then close, and inhaled deeply, rubbing at his eyes. His head was pounding behind them, he felt tired. Tired and angry. He flipped open his phone before he was even really aware of it, scrolling down to Gabriel's number.

It went straight to voicemail, whether because the ex-angel was still in the hospital or was asleep, or was just plain avoiding Sam's calls, it didn't really matter one way or the other, he was going to say what he had to say.

"W-what the fucking hell is wrong with you? You don't leave Claire alone, ever. Especially not so you can go fuck some bitch you met yesterday!" he knows he being a hypocrite and overreacting, but he's tired, and still a little drunk, and angry. "If this is your fucking way of getting back at me, or making me jealous, tough fucking luck, it didn't work. I don't give a shit who you go out with just don't leave our da…." he stops himself before he actually finishes the word, because Claire wasn't their daughter, everyone just thought she was. It's just another lie. Like the fact that they were a couple. "….Claire alone. If anything happens to her Gabriel, I'll fucking kill you! You get me!" he wanted to say more. A lot more. But the voicemail beeps sounded in his ear, letting him know he'd run out of time, and he slammed the phone down on the nightstand furiously.

Falling back against the pillows, he stared up at the ceiling, his jaw painfully tight and his heart thundering against his ribs. His stomach rolled as sobriety clawed its way back into existence.

_What Doesn't Kill You_

Sam woke up to the sound of banging, but he was mostly sure it was in his head. With a groan he rolled out of the bed and stumbled towards the bathroom, his stomach making its disapproval felt. He was on his knees, head over the edge of the bowl in moments, empty the nothingness that filled it; mostly beer, not much food. He hadn't eaten yesterday, which was why he'd been so drunk. He wasn't Dean, he couldn't drink that much and not pay for it.

Twenty minutes later he stumbled warily out of the bathroom and collapsed back onto the bed. He probably should hit the road, but as he was on his own and couldn't share the driving, he'd have to wait until his head was back in the game. Maybe stay another night. His eyes fluttered closed once more only to be forced open by the incessant ringing of his cell. Blindly he reached for it, hitting the answer button without even glancing at the ID.

"Hello?" he groaned.

"Listen dick-weed, I have every right to fucking go out and get laid. It's none of your damn business! And Claire was perfectly alright asshole. We've been to Annabella, you've sniffed around her house, if there was a threat you would have said something, you didn't, so we're cool! So yeah, I went on a date, I'm single and Rita was interested which is more than I can say for some people. But hey, thanks for the shit pile of a message you left. I'm fine by the way! Asshole!" the phone went dead a second later.

Sam stared up at the ceiling, his head screaming. It took too long for the memory of Claire's phone call to refresh itself in his head, even longer to his own call to make a reappearance. Shit. Had he really? Fuck! And Amelia had accused him of being married. Well it was beginning to feel like that. He hit the call back for Gabriel, only the guy wasn't answering and Sam wasn't leaving another message. It was suddenly a very good idea to stay another night, if only to let Gabriel calm down. - And allow himself time to think, without alcohol.

_What Doesn't Kill You_

Sam woke again a couple of hours later, his head still throbbing. Inhaling slowly though his nose, he rubbed his eyes before reaching for the TV remote. Putting the shit with Gabriel behind him he relaxed on the bed, his legs stretched out in front of him. He hadn't bothered getting dressed after Amelia had skipped out on him, so he lay beneath the covers still naked, his thumb locked in place on the remote.

He surfed through three soap, two chat shows and five police procedurals before he stopped. Once upon a time he would have been nervous watching porn in a motel room, never sure if Dean was going to walk in, but he was alone, and more than a little frustrated after the disaster of the previous night, so he dropped the remote, settled back and allowed himself to indulge. It was the end credits on one movie, but another would begin soon.

When the new film started something clawed at Sam mind. The opening scene was familiar and haunting, he didn't really pay much attention to it, figuring that he'd probably seen it before. He just wanted to relax. Then it hit, the realization that yes he had seen this before, but not in the normal circumstances.

On screen someone was knocking on the door. Sam shot forward, his eyes intent on the scene in front of him, his heart pound out of control. He held his breath as the door opened to reveal the Hungarian waiter. - Who turned out not to be Gabriel. Sam wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed.

No, he's sure he's relieved. It was most definitely relief he was feeling. He settled back against the pillow pushed the previous viewing out of his head and tried to relax again. He closed his eyes for a long moment when he realised that he was watching the waiter rather than the actress, inhaling deeply through his nose. Behind his closed eye-lids though, he found himself seeing Gabriel, wide smirk, amber eyes, thick black moustache ripped free of his face. Then the show really started. Sam tried to push the thoughts away but they were as stubborn as he was, clinging on with bloody fingers.

Gabriel swaggering towards the actress, intent in those amber eyes, his finger tugging at the buttons of his custom. He was go close as the shirt fell of his slim frame and Sam realized that this wasn't a third person fantasy. It wasn't the blonde actress the ex-archangel was smirking at, but him. - And he was like it.

Sam groaned. Tried to open his eyes but he was too overwhelmed. He felt his body slipping down the bed, the sounds of the TV echoing in the background. He fought the urge to touch himself as long as he could, because this was insane, he didn't do this. Didn't fantasize about other men. It wasn't his thing. But as Gabriel straddled his hips, his hands roaming down Sam's body. - And it felt so real, but that might be because he was currently running his own hand down over his abs. - he gave in, moaning behind tightly pressed lips as his fingers finally wrapped themselves tight and sure around his length.

He came to the sound of deep moans in the background and the image of Gabriel riding him fast and hard. Sam collapsed on the bed, spent and breathless, confused and furious. He had no idea what the hell was going on in his head, but he didn't like it. Throwing his legs off the bed angrily, Sam marching into the bathroom to clean up. When he returned ten minutes later he violently shut off the TV and began packing up his things, shoving his shirts and shaving things into the duffle like they'd been personally responsible for his inappropriate fantasy.

When he had everything together he threw the bag over his shoulder, grabbed the key to return to the main desk and then split. He was almost out of town when he remembered the dog, and for a moment he actually considered abandoning the thing, but he swung the Impala sharply back around and heading for the clinic.

(**)-(**)

To say it was an awkward reunion with the good doctor would be an understatement. She passed him off to her nurse to fill out paperwork and that was the last he saw of her until she brought out the dog, bandaged, weak and wearing a cone-collar.

"Take care of him. Here's his pills, one with a meal four times a day. He'll need to see the vet to have his wounds checked and the stretches removed in about six weeks. You think you can remember that?"

Sam inhaled slowly through his nose and nodded.

"Good." she nodded sharply, turning to leave.

"I'm sorry. - About last night." he called after.

The woman paused in her tracks, turning back to glare at him before vanishing for good. Rubbing at his eyes Sam glanced over at the nurse, who was shooting him disapproving looks.

"Thank you." he nodded. "Come on Boy." he whispered, carrying the dog out of the building.

As he settled the creature on the backseat he sent an apology up to his brother, wherever he may be. Dean would kill him for having a dog in the car. But if he had a problem with that, then he'd just have to come back and deal with it. Sam paused before closing the backdoor, waiting. As if expecting Dean to appear in a second to rip him a new one. - Or maybe hoping he would. When no one appeared, Sam slammed the door shut with a world wary sigh and climbed into the front seat. He looked out of the windscreen at the road ahead. Part of him just wanted to hit the road, find another case and stay as far away from Indiana as possible. But he couldn't, he knew that. Gabriel and Claire depended on him and he'd done enough running away from his problems to last a life time. They always caught up with him eventually, and they were always a thousand times worse when they did. So home it was.