A/N: Hello again. Sorry about the delay. I meant to post this ages ago, but things happened that prevented it until now. I'm still working on this fic, so be forewarned that it will be updated as regularly as I can whenever I can. That said, I've currently got the first three chapters finished. I'm not sure how long this will end up being, but my plan is to wrap up all the loose threads I have out there hanging in the wind from the other fics in the series. :) There is some background Destiel, but this is first and foremost an eventual Sabriel. Just don't tell Sam. He's still in denial about this whole thing. ;) As always, enjoy.
Moose-Napped
Biting back yet another yawn, the tall, long-haired Hunter flopped over onto his side in his warm bed, blanketed in absolute darkness save for the strip of light from his door. He had been trying to sleep for an hour with no success. Though, considering what his dreams consisted of lately, he supposed that should have been considered a blessing. But it wasn't. He was exhausted, mentally and most definitely physically.
At the sound of light footsteps passing outside of his door yet again, he groaned inwardly, turning over to have his back to it. That had to be the tenth time Gabe had walked past that night. Admittedly, though, he didn't actually know if it was the mischievous archangel or not. He just assumed it was. And nine times out of ten, he was probably right.
Except this time.
"Breathe, Cassie. Just breathe," murmured a low, familiar British voice followed by more sounds of footsteps against the tiled floor. They were more shuffled sounding this time for some reason.
Sam slowly rolled back to his door, pausing in confusion. What on Earth was going on out there? Why was Balthazar telling Cas to breathe?
"Let's get him—" Ah. There was Gabe.
The youngest Winchester brother rolled his hazel eyes and scoffed. It never failed.
"Should I wake Dean?" Balthazar asked quietly.
"And tell him what exactly?" muttered the older angelic brother. "That we broke his boyfriend?"
What?! Sam quickly sat up at that with wide eyes. What the hell did those two do now?
"He's not broken," fiercely disputed the blond hedonistic-loving angel.
"Oh for the love of Dad. I didn't mean it like that, and you damn well know it." The sandy-haired trickster actually sounded rather annoyed for some reason. "I merely meant our little brother is freakin' hyperventilating." Oh. So that was what was going on then. Why was Cas so upset, though? What had they done?
"Which was so not my—"
"It was both our faults. Got it? So, we're going to fix this before Dean finds out. Right?"
The thin, ghostly smile that Sam usually did his best to suppress appeared again. If he didn't know any better, he'd swear the archangel was afraid of the eldest Winchester. Well, he should be.
"Come on, kiddo." Gabe's voice lowered into a tender, brotherly manner. "Let's go to my room and watch some of the good stuff."
"Not Westerns," begged the former angel weakly from outside of Sam's door. "Please, Brother. Anything but those."
Sam instantly bit the side of his hand to keep from laughing. Poor Cas. He could only imagine how many Westerns Dean had forced the poor man to watch over the years.
The older heavenly brother chuckled lightly. "You got it, bucko. No Westerns. Promise. I wouldn't want to step on your boy toy's toes over that one."
Snorting, Sam rolled his eyes. Yeah, he was fairly certain that wasn't why Cas didn't want to watch Westerns here exactly.
The Hunter watched the shadows under the door move away and listened to their departing steps. A moment later, he heard the adjacent room's door close. With another quiet laugh, he shook his head. Those three were definite troublemakers, namely Balthazar and Gabriel that was. Cas was usually good. Unless he was around his brothers . . . or Dean, then all bets were off.
As Sam buried his head further into his pillow, he inhaled deeply, letting his eyes close. Maybe now with Gabe and the others distracted, he could finally sleep.
He woke, if one could call it that in a dream world, in a bed a hundred times more comfortable than his own. He stretched out lazily as more of his dream world appeared. Was this mattress made from clouds? It was so soft, yet surprisingly supportive. It was absolutely heavenly. Oh, and were these satin sheets he was on? Even his pajamas were amazing. Damn, he could definitely get used to this. Everything was absolutely perfect, the best dream he had ever had.
His foot then bumped into something warm and firm a moment later. And just like that, he reared back, practically shooting up off the bed like a cat sprayed with water.
An amused snort echoed around the simple-yet-elegant bedroom in response.
And then came the words.
"Oh, my beautiful Sam-moose."
Almost instantly, the long-haired man screamed himself awake, the real world slamming back with a vengeance. Gone were the satin sheets, the mattress made from clouds, and the amazing pajamas. In its place were cotton sheets that needed to be washed weeks ago, lumpy mattress that had a few springs popping through already, and his worn grey v-neck t-shirt and fading black pajama bottoms. His chest heaved while his heart raced.
What the actual fuck?!
He ran his hands over his face, gasping to get himself back under control.
Closing his eyes, he concentrated on his breathing and groaned. It was just a stupid dream. That was it. Just a stupid, meaningless dream.
So what if that had been his 76th dream since Gabriel's return from the Empty? Didn't mean anything. At all. How could it? He didn't like Gabe like that. At all.
He enjoyed the archangel's company, sure, but that was it. And he may have found the man a bit amusing sometimes too. And he may miss the Trickster every now and then whenever the man was away from the bunker, rare that it was, or when Sam was away himself. Still didn't mean anything.
And yet, he knew it did mean something, though. Deep down. He had always known that there was something there.
But he brushed it off naturally. Whatever this was had to be a result of witnessing the eleven-year Dean and Cas show. All the intense longing of one another, all the eye-fucking moments, the banter, the self-sacrificing for the other all the damn time over the past eleven long years. Right?
It had to be because he felt, what, jealous of his brother and Cas. Not because he had secretly developed some sort of weird crush on the sarcastic, mischievous, amber-eyed asshole with wings who drove Sam up every fucking wall all the time. Right?
His groan echoed loudly about his darkened room.
At least half of his silly dreams had to do with those stunning golden wings of Gabe's. Always tucked away into the Ethereal Plane, hidden from him. Only once Gabe had allowed him to see the beautiful appendages, which was what made the dreams that more vivid, that more real.
Hazel eyes rolled hard upwards at the ceiling.
"Damn it," he grumbled, shaking his head. He brought his arm up and glanced at his watch, sighing when he saw that it was just a little past four in the morning. "Awesome." He sighed again, tossing aside his blankets before he rolled out of bed. It had been years since his last self-imposed Winchester Four, but he knew the dreams weren't going to get any better unfortunately. In fact, he knew from experience that they usually just got worse through the night.
As he walked past the mirror, he glanced at his reflection and sighed heavily. He looked like shit. Worse than he had ever looked after the whole mental wall collapse and the trials. He grabbed a towel and wiped away the sweat, sighing inwardly. Tossing aside the towel soon after, he then ran his hands through his long hair to brush it back and shook his head, silently walking out of his room a moment later. Whatever. It wasn't like anyone else would be up.
He walked through the empty corridors, passing Gabe's room and then the room Balthazar had chosen. Both of their rooms were silent with the doors closed. He considered for a brief moment if he should be worried by the silence emanating from their rooms, but he quickly decided that it was too damn early to start that already. He then found himself moving past his brother's room, hearing only the sounds of his brother's loud snoring. All was right there. He continued on, turning the corner and headed inside the kitchen. When he caught a familiar messy-haired man sitting at the table with an opened laptop reading something intensely, he paused in the entryway.
"Uh, Cas?"
Dull blue eyes glanced up from the screen to look at him.
"Hello, Sam," quietly replied the clearly exhausted former angel. He was wearing Dean's gray dead guy's robe over his loose black shirt and grey sweatpants. He sighed heavily before he returned his attention back to the laptop.
That was never a good sign.
"Everything all right?" Sam asked, glancing around the room hesitantly.
"Yes" was the pitiful reply.
The tall Hunter nodded slowly before he headed for the fridge. A part of him knew he shouldn't pry as it was obvious the former angel was working through something. Another part of him knew Dean would have his hide if he found out Sam had just walked away and ignored the poor man. He poured himself a glass of orange juice before he walked over to join Cas at the table. His eyes briefly narrowed on the empty tumbler beside the laptop. That wasn't Cas's usual glass. If he didn't know any better, he would have sworn Cas had been doing a Dean and sitting there drinking his problems away. But that was absurd he knew. Cas was more level-headed than that.
"So, what's got you up so early this morning?" Sam asked gently before taking a sip of his juice.
The former angel's shoulders sagged, and his eyes remained on whatever he was reading.
Ah. Maybe getting his brother would be the better option here after all. Dean always could reach Cas whenever he was in these moods better than Sam ever could. Profound bonds and all that.
"You want me to leave you alone, don't you?" stated the younger Winchester.
That got a reaction. The deep blues instantly darted up over the screen and met Sam's.
"No."
Okay, it was a start, he supposed. He gave the withdrawn, exhausted man a kind smile.
"All right. How about I tell you why I'm up and we go from there? Sound like a deal?"
Cas snorted unamused. "Hardly. You can't sleep because of nightmares you experienced."
Sam winced, rubbing at the back of his neck. Was he really that much of an open book? That didn't bode well.
"Yeah, guilty as charged," he admitted with a sigh and shrug. He knew the former angel appreciated honesty the most, so that was what he was going to do. And if that led to Cas later explaining what was going on, well, then that'd be just fine with him too. "What about you?" He tried to meet the man's eyes. "Did you have a bad dream too?"
Cas glanced away instantly and pinched his lips tightly together in annoyance.
Normally, this was where Sam would get up and leave the person in peace. However, he knew from experience with the dark-haired former Seraph that he just had to be patient and wait. Eventually, the former angel would talk. He just needed time to work through things to figure out how to word it.
"One would have to sleep first before that could occur," quietly answered the brooding angel.
Sam blinked, his head rearing back slightly in surprise. "You haven't slept yet?"
"No."
Oh, that wasn't good. He wondered if Dean knew Cas was having trouble sleeping. The odds likely were no, unfortunately, since Sam knew his brother had gone to bed around eight. At the time, Cas had followed, but the long-haired Hunter knew from earlier that the former angel had been out with his brothers around midnight for some reason and suffered from some sort of panic attack.
"Cas, what's going on?"
"It's fine." The tone was vague and detached and so very unlike the angel.
All of the warning bells went off in the taller Hunter's mind at once. Not sleeping. Looking utterly miserable. Isolating himself from Dean. Suffering a panic attack earlier. Hell, even the hesitant replies. He considered praying to Gabe to come in here to help, but he decided against it. He just had to approach this gradually like how one would with a small child. He could do this. No one had the patience he had after all. He would just take it slowly.
"All right. Can you tell me when the last time was you tried to sleep then?"
The man's shoulders slumped suddenly in absolute surrender. He kept his eyes far from Sam's as if afraid the long-haired man could read his mind or something. Everything about his demeanor sent more alarms off. Something was obviously wrong. And Sam was definitely not liking the possible reasons his mind was offering.
"Monday," Cas finally whispered a few moments later.
The hazel eyes widened, as his breath caught in the back of his throat. Monday? Cas had last slept on freakin' Monday?! That was nearly a week ago! How the fuck hadn't any of them noticed? For that matter, how hadn't Dean noticed? They slept in the same bed together for Heaven's sake!
"How long?" God, Sam was terrified for that answer.
The glossy blue eyes dropped further, which Sam didn't know how that was possible, but they did. "Twenty minutes." The raven-haired man shrugged pathetically. "I think."
Sam's stomach dropped. Twenty minutes? That was it? That was all Cas had slept in a week? And here Sam was freaking out about possibly having feelings for Gabriel when Cas was clearly the one who needed someone to help, and none of them had noticed. He exhaled loudly and shook his head.
"Cas, look at me. Please." It took a few, but eventually he caught the dull, glassy azure. "Why aren't you sleeping?" The blue eyes darted away again. Sam sighed inwardly, leaning forward slightly. He just had to keep being patient. Cas would talk when he was ready. He just needed to keep trying. The man thankfully understood the love and concern behind his words. "Is it the noise thing again?" He could recall Dean saying something earlier about noise being a large issue for the former angel. It was something they were trying to work on. In fact, he thought Dean had mentioned something about offering to let Cas borrow his cassette player even to listen to some music before they tried to sleep. Sam had thought it was rather cute at the time, considering Dean likely didn't even realize how monumental of a step that was he was taking. "Or is it something else?"
The messy-haired man shrugged listlessly again. "Don't know."
Somehow Sam very much doubted that the former angel didn't know the reason. Cas was extremely intelligent. It was more like he just wasn't ready to share yet. Biting back a sigh, the taller hunter glanced at the laptop Cas was using, recognizing it immediately as being Dean's.
Okay then. He'd try a different tactic then. "Looking for a case for us?" Distractions usually worked. Sometimes at least they did.
Cas shook his head, though. "No. Dean wants to stay around the Bunker more for some reason."
The corner of the tall Hunter's lip trembled slightly as he desperately tried hold in his smirk. Yeah. Course his brother did. It wasn't just so Dean could fuss over his newly turned human boyfriend some more like he had been doing ever since Cas had his Grace removed. Now, could it?
"Ah." Sam nodded slowly. "So, what are you reading then?"
The blue eyes darted up in surprise again.
"What?"
"What are you reading then, Cas?" he repeated, barely holding back his knowing grin. He had caught the former angel clearly on something. Thankfully, the man didn't seem to want to run yet.
"When?"
Leaning back, Sam crossed his arms and snorted. Oh, yeah. He had definitely caught him on something. "Now."
"Oh." Blue eyes darted down to his screen hesitantly.
"Castiel?"
"Yes, Sam?"
The long-haired Hunter rolled his eyes. "You're about as obvious as your brother right now. You know that?" He shook his head with a gentle smile. Who would have thought Cas had elements of Gabe in him at times? They had always seemed polar opposites from one another. "What is it? Porn or something?" It wouldn't have been the first time the former angel had been caught viewing porn after all. He had once done it with Sam and Dean both in the room while the brothers were working a case. Ah, the good ol' pizza man memories. How Dean had bitched about that for months afterwards.
Cas winced slightly, keeping his face buried behind the laptop.
"Or something?" was the quiet murmur a few moments later.
Or something? Sam couldn't help it. He grabbed a hold of the edge and turned the laptop towards him. He noticed that Cas didn't even try to put up any sort of fight. His eyes widened the second he caught Dean's name in the middle of some large block of writing that also contained the words 'lubricant' and 'prostate' further down the page.
"Are you—is this—" Sam turned back to him. "Cas, are you reading fanfic?"
Of all the things he had thought he'd find the angel doing, this was not even on the list.
"I ran out of the Winchester Gospels to read," the former Seraph admitted with a sullen look. "So, Gabe showed me a site where I could read more."
Hazel eyes stared at the withdrawn man silently. He didn't know which part was more unsettling. That Gabe knew about fanfic or that Cas was reading said fanfic based on their lives?
"You realize this is about us, right?"
"Yes."
"That people who are fans of—"
"Yes, Sam," the man huffed, rolling his eyes. "I understand the basics of fanfiction."
"Why would you read this stuff?" It was . . . the things that people came up with . . . the scenarios . . . the smut . . .
"Because nine times out of ten, it's better than my father's work."
The words tumbled out instantly. "We are your father's work, Cas!"
"You know what I mean." He grabbed the laptop back, turning it away from Sam.
"How much of this crap have you read?" When the former angel said nothing, the long-haired man leaned forward again. Now he needed to know. "Cas?" He watched the man's Adam's apple bob extra slowly. Oh, that wasn't good. "Castiel?"
"Enough."
"Which means?"
"Which means enough, Sam. I've read enough." Blue eyes flicked back to the screen.
Sam stared at him for a few minutes, processing this horrifying news. Cas had been reading about them for how long exactly? And it was because he had run out of Chuck's Winchester Gospels to read? From what the tall hunter knew about fanfic, a lot of it was very, well, shippy.
"Which pairings?" He felt his heart lurch at his own question.
Cas rolled his eyes but didn't respond.
Sam couldn't let it go, though. He had to know.
"Is it just CasDean or . . .?" It'd only be natural to read about one's own pairing, he supposed. Not that Sam had ever looked up Sabriel fanfic. At all. On some random Friday night. With a beer—or four—in hand. In his room. In the early morning hours because he couldn't sleep yet again for some reason. Nope. Didn't happen. No matter what his browser history said. Or the amount of reviews he had given to one author in particular named Cas'sKickassLittleSister. The things that author wrote, it was as if the author knew their lives. While it had initially made him consider the possibility of Chuck writing under a new pseudonym, he quickly dismissed that as the writing was frankly too good to be Chuck's. It was real and raw and wasn't so drama-filled all the damn time.
"I finished my pairings on Wednesday, Sam," the former Seraph drawled, seemingly bored by the question. "I've moved onto others now."
The question fell out before he could stop himself, "Like?"
Cas glanced at him for a second before he decided he'd reply. "Gabe had recommended a rather nice long Sabriel fic to me yesterday. I'm halfway through it now."
Hazel eyes blinked once then twice. Gabe had done what?
"Though, you're denser in real life than you are in fanfic I've learned."
Sam coughed, unsure of what even to say to that lovely remark. Dense? Him? How? And since when did Cas start talking like this? Sassy, sure, but this was . . . snotty maybe? Brutally honest to the point of bordering on unsettling even?
"Not to mention, if this fanfic were real," Cas continued, his attention focused entirely on the laptop, "you'd have been honest with yourself long ago and realized your feelings for my brother have nothing to do with your brother and me at all. We don't even factor into the equation. Nor should we."
Sam instantly sat up even straighter. His feelings for whom now? He and Cas had talked about it before, sure, with Sam admitting he enjoyed talking with Gabe every now and then. But nowhere in that talk did he admit that he, you know, liked Gabe more than a friend. Had he? He searched his memories.
The former angel then huffed a mirthless laugh. "But, of course, naturally I'm the one who's in the wrong here for pointing this out to you because I'm typically the villain in these stories sometimes. People love pitting us against one another. Though, I haven't figured out why yet. Likely to add drama to it or add another level of depth. Actually, I did read one that used us fighting as a way to have us in a relationship later—it's called Sastiel—our ship, I mean. I enjoyed the elements that it brought to it, but I much prefer being shipped with Dean as I'm sure you can imagine."
For a brief second, hazel eyes glanced at the entryway to the dorms, debating still if he should call for his brother. Something seriously was not right with the former angel. How much fanfic had the man consumed exactly? However, shock kept Sam rooted to his seat.
Cas sighed heavily then. "Then there's the whole stuff going through your mind right now. Like was Gabe brought back solely for me to recapture the family dynamic of angels?"
Sam's eyes widened as his head snapped back, his mouth dropping to the floor. This was like something Cas'sKickassLittleSister would have written.
"Or was it for you since you've always wanted to have that white-picket family life—someone to love and who would love you just as fiercely—a normal apple pie life in your brother's own words." Seemingly oblivious to Sam's reaction, Cas shrugged, moving his finger lazily over his touchpad to advance the page he was on. "Who knows really?"
"Cas . . ." Sam found his voice cutting out as he stared in utter disbelief.
"Well, my father, I suppose," the former angel scoffed, "but I doubt he cares anymore really."
The long-haired Hunter had long ago gotten used to Cas's bluntness. He really had. This, however—this was so many levels of strange and bizarre that he didn't know where to start. Had there been something in one of the fanfics, some hidden spell or something, to cause this? Or was Cas's peculiar behavior now a result of the former angel's extreme exhaustion? Never had the hunter seen the angel this unglued, this whatever it was, before in all their years together. And he had even seen the man plastered drunk before.
"After all, he's done nothing to stop Dean and I lately, which is rather refreshing considering all the other crap he's put us through already," rambled the former angel, his voice mumbling every now and then. "Maybe he's finally giving Destiel a chance."
"Cas . . ."
Sam's eyes narrowed. More of Cas's words slurred together, making it harder to understand him. Was this a stroke then? Though, Cas didn't seem to be in any pain at all. He did look like shit, though. Dark circles around his eyes were glaringly obvious. As well as the dull, glassy look to the usually deeply electric blues. How had none of them noticed? None of them?
"I'll admit. The banter's my favorite part. It's so light and jovial," Cas continued. "We need that in our lives. Humor instead of all the never-ending drama all the damn time," murmured the newly turned human with a low sigh. "I want to escape our lives. Not relive it." He then sighed heavily, his head falling forward slightly. "Like, take this fic, for example." Cas's eyes glanced over the top of the laptop as his hand waved erratically, knocking over the empty glass that had been on the table beside him. "Sam can't sleep because—I actually don't remember—but he's been dreaming about Gabe for weeks now. And he's happy with them because he gets to try out new fantasies and—"
Sam's mouth dropped. This was what Cas was reading? What honestly was fucking happening here? Was this a Djinn dream or something? Lucifer maybe? The tall Hunter pressed firmly against his left palm like he used to, wincing when he felt the brief flicker of pain. Yep. Not a dream. This was real.
"Dean naturally figures it out. Because of course he does. And it causes some humor between the boys. But for once Sam isn't being an idiot and wondering about the why. He's just enjoying it."
The deep blues finally focused sharply, losing its earlier sleepy edge.
"Why can't you be more like fanfic Sam and be happy for once?"
If that wasn't a punch to the gut . . .
"Why must you two always have to suffer all the damn time and put others before yourselves?" Cas waved his hands more, seemingly barely noticing he had hit the laptop screen a few times. "You deserve happiness too, Sam. Not just everyone else. Not just your brother. You too." A smile then graced the man's chapped lips, his dull, glassy eyes shining tiredly as he glanced at something behind the hunter. "Brother!"
Sam whirled around, dreading which brother it was that Cas was yelling at.
"Cassie, what'd Gabriel say about sneaking off out here?" The British-sounding blond then paused. "Wait! Is that a laptop?" He sighed when Cas didn't answer. "Oh, how you have fallen."
"Balthazar—zazar." The overly exhausted man chuckled quietly, slapping the table loudly. He had moved onto the giggling phase of his exhaustion now, it appeared. "Did you know we're paired up quite a lot actually?" The blond angel ignored it, though, gently helping the blue-eyed man stagger to his feet. "It's true. Because you were the first to show your extreme loyalty to me. To point out that all of you were betraying me concerning the whole souls and opening Purgatory fiasco." Cas sighed loudly, his hand waving dramatically and nearly hitting his brother in the process. "And how'd I repay it?" He leaned all his weight on the angel. "I stabbed you." His face was inches from his brother's. "Et tú Bronte?"
"It's—never mind," Balthazar sighed heavily. He glanced towards Sam. "If you could not mention this to your brother, we'd appreciate it." He batted away Cas's hand when the man started swatting at something imaginary near his face. "We've been trying to get him to sleep, but someone here is being his usual charming self again and is being stubborn."
"Don't wanna," Cas slurred, his words running together.
Sam noticed Balthazar's sudden head tilt before the angel's steely grays darted to the table.
"Have you been drinking again?"
Sam's eyes then darted to the empty tumbler on its side on the table. He had thought it was weird when he first noticed the glass. Cas usually would either use a tall glass for his milk or water now. But he hadn't thought anything more on it. So, had the alcohol had a delayed reaction then on the angel? Wait. What did Balthazar mean 'again?' Had Cas been coming out here and drinking regularly then? Had this been another thing they had all failed to notice?
"Maybe a smidge," Cas answered with his fingers held together before he snickered loudly.
Balthazar groaned in response, his eyes sharply finding Sam's. "This is all your brother's fault."
The tall Hunter opened his mouth to ask how when he caught the figure stepping into the galley. All words quickly fled with his thoughts. Just when he thought this couldn't get any worse.
"What's all Dean-o's fault this time?" remarked Gabriel as he coolly strode into the room. He was wearing a pair of winged moose pajama bottoms and a loose t-shirt that said 'If found, return to Sam Winchester" with a current photo of Sam between the two lines of text.
"Cassie's been drinking again," stated Balthazar with a heavy sigh.
"A smidge, just a smidge," argued the former angel. "And it's called a nightwrap. All the humans do it."
Gabe rolled his eyes, pausing to glance at Sam who was still staring at him. "Hiya, Sammy. Like what you see?"
Sam instantly came back to himself then and huffed, glancing away. He couldn't help but notice the way his body had unfortunately reacted to Gabe's attention. He had to be confused. This was Gabe after all. Gabe—supreme winged dick—
"All right, kiddo," announced the archangel, having stepped away from Sam and over to his younger brothers. "Where is it?"
"Where's what?" Cas replied, tilting his head and nearly falling as his balance was severely impaired now.
"The bottle, brat. Where'd you put the bottle?"
"What bottle?"
Gabe snatched the empty tumbler from the table and held it up. "The one you poured whatever it was into this. Where is it?"
"Dunno." Cas shrugged again. "Did you lose a bottle, though? You should really take better care of your stuff, Gabriel."
The older angel laughed unamused, shaking his head. "All right. So it's going to be like that, is it?" He shrugged back. "Have it your way."
"What way?" Cas blinked, glancing from his brothers to Sam. "I don't understand."
Gabe's smile deepened. "Let's just wake Dean up then and see what he has to say about all this. Shall we, little brother? I'm sure he'll be very interested to know about your nighttime activities while he sleeps."
In a blink of an eye, Sam watched Cas wrench himself out of Balthazar's, nearly falling to the floor as a result, before he slammed into Gabe.
"NO!"
"Then tell me where the bottle is," Gabe repeated, enunciating each word.
The words flew out in a hurry. "In the garbage! With the others."
"Others?" Gabe snapped his fingers, which sent Balthazar instantly rushing over to the trash can.
Sam's eyes narrowed when he watched the blond pause at whatever he saw in it. Slowly, the younger angel turned back with a stunned look.
"What?"
"It's a bottle of tequila. Top shelf kind. But there are dozens mini-bar kinds in here as well."
"Oh, of course there is," drawled the archangel with a head shake. He turned back to Cas. "I should make you suffer that hangover, brat."
"Don't tell Dean. Please?" pleaded the blue-eyed man, his fingers curling into Gabe's shirt.
"Why not? I think he'd be very interested to learn you're turning yourself into an alcoholic."
"I can't sleep, though!" Cas complained.
"So instead you decide to spend half the night drinking and playing on a laptop?"
"It's what Dean did."
"Oh, yes, because Dean Winchester is the poster child of healthy coping mechanisms. Clearly!" Gabe huffed, throwing his hands up in frustration. "Did you even try to sleep tonight?"
"Yes . . ." The voice was very small, though, and Cas's eyes were trained to the floor.
"Castiel."
"No." The former angel's shoulders sagged a moment later. "I waited until after you went back to your room and then came out here."
"Kiddo, you can't keep doing this." The sandy-haired archangel gently rested his hands on his little brother's shoulders to keep him steady. "It's not healthy!"
Sam looked on, swallowing back his frantic betraying heart that was trying to escape. How was this the same person as the man who was constantly making remarks like 'I'd do you' or other juvenile remarks all the time? When amber eyes suddenly caught the hazel, the taller man felt shook.
"Sam, could you wake your brother please?"
No Sam-moose. No Sam-ikins. No Sam-I-Am. Not even a Sam-anova. Just Sam.
"Gabriel, no!" Cas begged.
When Sam watched Gabe instantly grab a hold of his pleading blue-eyed brother's face with both hands, meeting the no doubt terrified eyes, he drew in a shaky breath. This wasn't the Gabriel he knew. Or was it? Maybe . . . but . . .
"Kiddo, this is for the best. Trust me. We've done enough lying and hiding. All of us." The archangel sighed quietly. "This time, we're going to take a page out of our late sister Elizial's book and be honest."
Late sister Elizial? Who was she, Sam wondered. He was fairly certain they hadn't run into her over the years. In fact, he could have been wrong, but he didn't recall ever hearing about her before. He watched on, noticing Gabe's gentleness. It reminded him of all the times Dean had done the same with him over the years. The protective, loving older brother caring for his younger, naïve counterpart.
"And we're going to deal with crap," Gabe continued "instead of letting it fester like we have been. So, yes, we are going to tell your boyfriend the truth. And, yes, kiddo, it's not going to be pleasant. It's going to be messy, and it's going to hurt. But we're a family, remember? And families stick together and fix things. No matter the cost."
All the air in Sam's lungs vanished. Holy hell. He had to get out of there. Now. Like two minutes past yesterday. He turned away and went to get his brother, his mind reeling.
How was that the same archangel he had—
He soon found himself in front of Room 11's closed door. He needed to get himself back together again or his brother would think something terrible happened. Which maybe it had on second thought. Inhaling slowly, he held it and then exhaled. He did this for a few more times before he knocked and opened the door. Here went nothing. Hopefully, his brother wouldn't shoot him in panic.
"Dean?"
He heard his brother's low groan followed by sounds of him rolling towards the door. He waited, glancing down when he saw his brother raise a hand up to shield his eyes from the harsh light of the hallway. He stepped inside to block more of the light for him.
"Cas?" Dean sounded half-asleep still but surprisingly was gentle in his tone. So much for the usual grumpy bear impression his older brother typically displayed.
"No. It's Sam," he answered back, feeling his insides twist and knot horribly. When his brother instantly sat up then, tossing off the covers with wide eyes, he felt his insides recoil.
"Where's Cas?" The gentleness had been replaced with fear as Dean rushed towards the door.
"Kitchen. But, Dean—" He grabbed his brother's arm to stop him.
"The fucking kitchen!" Dean scoffed, relaxing at once. "Why the hell are you waking me up for this, Sammy? Christ!" His brother growled, running a hand through his hair angrily. The sleepiness was gone but the irritation was not. "You made me think something happened to him! For fuck's sake, man, who cares if he's in the damn kitchen? He's probably making coffee or something." He turned back to his bed. "Seriously, that's not a new thing. He's been doing that all goddamn week now. You didn't have to wake me up for that."
"He's not sleeping," Sam quietly stated when his brother paused to take a breath in his rant.
"What?" Dean blinked in confusion.
"Cas hasn't been sleeping."
"What do you mean? He's been—" Dean's voice cut out sharply. "Sammy, what's going on?"
"I-I don't know." He didn't even know where to start actually, with Cas or himself actually. That was stupid. Cas. Cas took priority these days for Dean. He could wait for once. "Gabe's calling for a family meeting, though."
"A family meeting?" The green-eyed Winchester scoffed loudly. "Tell the dick he's part of the family one time, and he starts calling fucking meetings at goddamn four in the morning," he drawled. "Fine. Give me a minute to prepare myself for whatever fuckery the winged asshole wants now."
"Don't call him that," Sam snapped, surprising himself.
"What?" Dean stared at him for half a moment before he shook his head. "Fine." He reached for something, pausing when he noticed that the hook was empty. "What the hell? Where's my robe?" He then snorted. "Damn it, Cas." He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Let your boyfriend wear it one time, and he fucking steals it for good. I should have known," he joked, throwing on a pair of sweatpants instead. "All right. Let's see what Cas got himself into this time. Shall we?"
A few moments later, Sam stopped halfway down the hallway, though, glancing at his brother who kept walking not noticing. No. He couldn't watch that. His brother and Gabe fighting. Not again. He needed to figure this out. All of it out. Swallowing back his apprehension, he made up his mind. A jog around the property would help clear things up hopefully. It'd be better than watching his brother and Gabe doing their whole usual alpha male thing at least.
"Sammy?" Dean finally realized that his brother was no longer beside him. The green eyes turned back to him questioningly. "You coming?"
"Yeah. I'll be there in a sec. Forgot something in my room."
Dean rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I'll let your boyfriend Gabe know."
Sam minutely flinched but nodded jerkily. Yeah. It was just an ongoing joke between them. Dean didn't mean anything by it. He didn't know. He couldn't know. He turned back and slipped into his room. It'd take his brother a bit to realize that he wasn't going to be there thankfully. Whenever Cas was involved, especially in things like this, his brother was focused entirely on his angel and nothing else. Sam would use this to his advantage this time. He needed to figure this out. He had to.
A few minutes later, he was changed into his running attire. Just a quick jog. That was all he needed. A quick five-mile jog. Maybe ten. He'd have it figured out by then. And if not, he'd keep running until he did.
He reached for his phone on his dresser, hesitating briefly. Dean would call him then. Or track him. No. He'd leave it behind this time. If he needed anything or if he ran into any sort of trouble, he could always pray to . . . Balthazar. He'd pray to Balthazar. Less messy that way. Though, there was no guarantee the snarky blond would come.
"Ugh." He was wasting time. He walked down the hallway past the doors to the kitchen.
"Cas, what the hell, man?" Dean shouted.
"Dean!" cried back the former angel.
It was obviously going really well then. He silently rushed past, hoping no one noticed him.
"No! Why didn't you tell me it was this bad? Aren't we—"
"But you did it!"
"Yeah, because I'm the perfect example of—do you fucking hear yourself right now, man?"
"Hear, hear!" Gabe's voice filtered out.
"Shut up, asshole," Dean growled.
"You first, hypocrite," snarked back the archangel. "After all, he learned it from somewhere, and it sure as hell wasn't me, Winchester!"
"What the hell does that mean?"
"It means—"
Sam instantly ran through the bunker and up the stairs, not caring anymore if anyone heard him leaving. He couldn't stand to be there one more moment.
Many minutes and miles later, Sam continued his run through the woods, dodging and weaving through the massive, foreboding trees. His calves ached, hell his whole body ached, but he pushed himself further. He wasn't any closer to figuring anything out unfortunately.
He liked talking with Gabriel. He'd freely admit that. And the archangel was nothing like his older brothers. He didn't see humanity as a problem to control, a threat that needed to be eliminated, or even a worthless piece of space. He was funny. Sometimes that was. And he saw Sam.
But there were times when the long-haired Hunter just wanted to shake the hell out of that cocky ass archangel. Why wouldn't he grow up? Hell, Sam had just seen that he could act like an adult, act responsible if he wanted to. So, why didn't he? Why did he always have to insist on being that sarcastic, childish dick all the damn time?
And yet Sam enjoyed that trait in the angel. He adored Gabe's little sexual innuendos. The hugely inappropriate remarks all the damn time. Hell, even the fucking shirts had grown on him.
Was it the attention that he liked? Was that all this was? Gabe certainly paid attention to him. He didn't see him as Sammy, Dean's little brother. He just saw him as Sam, his moose.
Slowing down suddenly, the tall man sighed heavily, pausing next to one of the trees and leaning against it. He let his head thump back against it and groaned. He didn't want Gabe to ever call anyone else moose or Sam—whatever creative iteration it was this time. That was their thing. Theirs!
Just like Cas and Dean's was eye-fucking.
His and Gabe's was—what—sexual harassment comments? Fuck, that was messed up if it was.
He snorted, rolling his head against the bark.
He couldn't fault Gabriel necessarily for it. While the archangel had started the whole banter thing, it wasn't as if Sam hadn't joined in at times. He had. Lots of times. It had turned into a silly game they would play to see which would blink first. And Sam had gotten so much better at not blinking first.
Existential crisis. That was what this was. It had to be. He liked Gabe. He knew that. But did he like Gabe as a friend or was it more? And if it was more, was it because of free will or was it him trying to be like his older brother and get himself an angel, a more powerful angel than Cas even? Some form of sibling rivalry and that? Or was it something else entirely? Chuck's flawed writing again?
Closing his eyes, Sam breathed in deeply. The sweet smells of nature filled his nostrils instantly. Everything was earthy. Like Gabe smelled sometimes. Dean had always said—and Sam would agree occasionally—that Cas smelled like when it first started to rain. But Gabe—he smelled like earth somehow. Earth and junk food. Usually primarily junk food . . . and some types of candy.
All things unhealthy, and yet Sam, the health nut he was, couldn't get enough of it.
He pictured Gabe laughing. He didn't know why the archangel was laughing, and he honestly didn't care why either. The archangel was happy for some reason. His eyes were all lit up in that rich whiskey color Sam loved.
Wait. What? Loved?
His eyes flew open. Loved? Where had that come from? And since when was it loved? He felt his heart race and crash against his ribcage painfully. He was still wrapping his head around if he liked Gabe. Now, that particular L word came up?
Yet . . . hadn't he reacted—secretly of course—the same way Dean had after losing Cas a few years back? Sam hadn't slept for weeks after Gabe's sacrificial death in Apocalypse World. His brother, on the other hand, hadn't slept for months and drowned his sorrows in a bottle among other things.
He then heaved a loud sigh, shaking his head as he glanced upwards.
Why was he always comparing his relationships to his brother's? They weren't the same. At all. For instance, he never would have waited eleven years like Dean had.
Unexpectedly, a sharp and sudden pain sent his hand slapping hard against his neck. Something was protruding from his skin now. With narrowed eyes, he gently grabbed a hold of whatever it was and yanked. His brows furrowed at the slim, silvery feather-like object he had removed.
"What the heeelll?" His tongue swiftly became leathery, as his vision blurred slightly. The birds that had peacefully chirped from their hiding spots quickly started to sound more like psychotic cuckoo clocks going off all around him. He grabbed the tree he had been leaning against prior, slowly falling to his knees before he slammed hard against the merciless ground face first with a groan.
A soft, gentle, unfamiliar laugh echoed near his ear a moment later as someone knelt beside him.
"Sleep well, Sam. We'll talk more in the morning."