A/N: Hello, lovely readers. So, I thought I'd post this for you today because why not? Hope you enjoy.
Safe Space
Several hours later, the tall Hunter woke in a sparsely decorated bedroom. He glanced around, half-expecting to find himself hanging from a rafter or tied to a chair. Something. Yet he woke to find himself in a warm bed instead. His clothes had been changed into random comfy sleepwear, and someone had settled blankets around him as if to ensure he would stay warm while he slept. Someone had taken great care of him in other words. He frowned inwardly and slowly sat up, stunned to find no bars on the windows. The door to the bedroom was even wide open. His kidnapper didn't seem to think he'd try to escape for some reason. He blinked at this, wondering why. Only his questions vanished when he saw the nightstand beside him.
Beside the bed were his clothes, neatly folded with Ruby's knife and his gun resting atop of the pile. There was next to that even a pair of blue jeans neatly folded and a red-and-gold flannel shirt. Of all the times he had been kidnapped, this definitely was the strangest one to date yet. He pressed the spot on his left hand and winced again, confirming this was real once more. No Djinn. No Lucifer. Maybe Chuck, though.
His eyes then closed as he breathed in deeply, centering himself in the best way he could while still being alert and ready for anything.
"Gabe—" he murmured quietly, hoping his prayer would reach the archangel.
"Are you just going to sit there, Sam, and contemplate life all day?" his kidnapper suddenly announced from a nearby room. "Or are you going to get dressed and join me out here?" The person didn't sound threatening, but he wasn't stupid. "Because if you're waiting for someone to rescue you, don't. I'll return you to the bunker once we've had a chat."
So, his kidnapper knew about the bunker, knew his name even. That meant the person was familiar with him somehow. He briefly considered Ruby as his kidnapper's identity but dismissed it quickly. The person wasn't flirting with him or playing really at all. The tone was dry but business-like. He tossed aside the covers a moment later and sighed inwardly. He needed more information unfortunately in order to formulate a plan.
"So, what are you?" he called out, quickly reaching for his clothes. "Angel? Demon? Vampire?" He paused as his hand hovered over his running shorts and t-shirt. "Werewolf?" His fingers curled around the second set of clothes, ultimately deciding on them. If it came down to him running through the woods, jeans and flannel usually were always the better bet. "Human?" He kept his eyes trained on the doorway just in case his kidnapper decided to surprise him again as he changed. "Something in between?"
"That's the million-dollar question, isn't it? What am I?" A gentle, kind laugh filtered in quietly. "But what I am is of no importance really in the scope of things. The actual question you should be asking yourself here, Sam, is what I want with you."
He paused for a brief moment before he scoffed. "All right." He buttoned up the jeans that were surprisingly just his size and style. "I'll play along. Did my brother and I do something to one of your kind and now you want revenge?" That was usually the go-to reasoning behind these situations.
"Booooring. Next!"
He couldn't help but laugh silently at the reply. He would have expected hearing that sort of reply from Gabriel with how it was said.
"Not revenge then."
"Not revenge," the person confirmed. "Frankly, you and your brother typically don't concern me. So, you do your thing, and I do mine. Usually at least."
He considered this for a minute before he frowned. His curiosity was getting the better of him. "But something changed?"
"You could say that." Another laugh seeped into the room. "Are you almost finished in there? Your breakfast is getting cold, and you and I have a lot to discuss before the others realize you're missing. So quit dawdling in there already, will you?"
The corner of his lip trembled as he tried to suppress his smile. He couldn't explain it, but a part of him didn't feel threatened by this person. He honestly didn't have a single reason why, but he didn't feel like this person wanted to hurt him. That he could take their words at face value. On the off chance he was wrong, though, he grabbed his weapons, slipping Ruby's knife and his gun into their holsters.
"Afraid of my brother, are you?" he remarked lightly.
"No."
His eyes narrowed, hearing the underlying 'but' in the person's word. He headed out towards the voice a moment later, keeping his hand close to his holster just in case. There was a short corridor that led into a large open space that had a kitchen on the right and a living room on his left. He found his kidnapper a moment later, meeting her dark amused eyes instantly.
"Afraid of mine actually," the tall, dark-haired woman finished with a gentle laugh and quirked brow. Wearing a long black evening gown that hung asymmetrical off her left shoulder, she stood at the kitchen counter with a steaming pan in her hand. "Hello, Sam. Eggs?"
He shook his head with a forced chuckle. This was who had kidnapped him? He could hear his brother's teasing already. The woman was absolutely beautiful, stunning even.
Her long dark curls had been brushed back and thrown up into a messy bun. She looked like a model or definitely an actress of some kind. Her skin was flawless, no blemishes of any kind, and it glowed healthily with a base tan.
"Careful now," she teased, her deep red lips quirking upwards. "We wouldn't want your lusting after me to get back to a certain sweet-obsessed archangel. Now, would we?"
"Gabriel?" He blinked back to himself instantly. How did she know about—
She laughed quietly, though, walking with the pan towards a small table where she had set up breakfast. Her tall black boots clicked quietly against the hardwood floor.
"Unless you know of another who suffers from sugar addiction," she drawled. Setting the pan down shortly after, she motioned for him to join her. "Yes, Sam, Gabriel.
He reluctantly walked towards her a moment later. "So, you are an angel then?"
She snorted. "Gee. Whatever gave it away?" She then motioned towards the food. "Eat. And don't worry. It's not poisoned. I wouldn't kill Gabriel's intended. I'm not Lucifer after all."
Sam flinched slightly at her quip. He noticed her dark eyes instantly narrow on him.
"Which part of that bothered you exactly? The Lucifer comment or about Gabriel and his bond to you?" She watched him silently as he quietly sat down at the table. "Fine. Have it your way." She shrugged. "It's not like anyone can find you here anyway. Not even if you started to pray to them."
His eyes snapped up at her. She knew that he had tried to pray to Gabe? "Who are you?"
She scoffed again, shaking her head. "This again? Oh, you're a broken record." She met his gaze. "Who I am is of no value to this conversation. We're here because of you."
"Me?" He frowned and watched her for a moment. She still didn't give off any bad vibes. Then again, neither had Ruby. He sighed inwardly.
"You won't give it up, will you?" She rolled her eyes before she leaned forward, holding her palm up and out to him revealing a small bow-and-arrow tattoo. "Do you know what this signifies?"
He stared at the mark for a few moments, finally nodding slowly. "You're a Cherub."
"Precisely. And thank you for referring to my class and not saying that stupid 'cupid' term. I hate that word." She then pulled her hand back. "I was entrusted with the Novak line to ensure my brother could have his perfect vessel. And not to brag, but I was awesome at it." She smiled proudly. "Even after I succeeded and helped ensure Jimmy's birth, I continued watching, shepherding." She stared off dazedly with a gentle sigh. "I remember the day Jimmy and Amelia met. They were so in love with one another. I barely had to lift a finger for them. And then came Claire—oh that girl is so feisty . . . and stubborn too. I can't wait for the day I help her find her soulmate."
Sam blinked in surprise, hearing the tenderness in the woman's voice. She had kidnapped him, sure, but that was the only thing he could see that had been questionable about her. "If you—"
She groaned loudly, leaning back as she interrupted. "If they were my responsibility, why am I here now, you wonder, having taken you against your will? Yeah. I know." She scoffed with a head shake. "The Cherub in charge of the Winchester line got a little frustrated with you two idiots. Can't say I blamed my comrade. You two frustrated the hell out of me sometimes as well over the years."
Sam's eyes widened. "Wait. Are you saying—you were responsible for getting my brother and Cas together then?"
Snorting loudly, she waved a hand dramatically. "Oh, only for the past eleven fucking years. But who was counting, right?" She shook her head. "I guess, actually, I should revise my earlier statement to you. You two did concern me, but only when it came to that particular mission. Between you and your brother, well, you two assholes didn't make it any easier. So, here we are, Sam."
He considered her words for a moment. If what she was saying was correct, then—oh. No. It couldn't be that, could it? "What happened to the angel in charge of our line?" After all, he could understand two cherubs working to get Dean's head out of his ass. No one was more stubborn than his big brother unfortunately. But that didn't mean—
She raised a brow and stared at him. "Do you honestly want to know?"
"Yes." Though, the way she had said that made him semi-regret it instantly.
"He was murdered," she replied bluntly, "which in turn caused Fate to ask me then to work my magic on you and Gabriel. Because there's the whole 'Winchester big plans' crap that's been going on since before you two were born. Not to mention, in all their minds, I'm somehow now considered a miracle worker with the patience of a saint, thanks to our brothers."
His mouth dropped.
"So, Sam," she stated with a pointed look "let's not have a repeat of our brothers' eleven years, shall we? Because, and I'll be totally honest with you, I've had it up to here with you Winchesters. I don't have another eleven years in me to waste. So, let's dive right in. Yeah?"
"You're here because . . ." His voice trailed off as his eyes fell to his empty plate. Oh.
"Yep. Exactly." She then watched him sigh before he leaned forward and made himself a plate of food after his stomach had growled. "So, think of me as your love therapist, all right?" She gave him a wide smile. "What's the big issue here between you and Gabriel? What's stopping you exactly?"
He paused and glanced at her. "Would you believe me if I said I didn't know?"
"No. I think you do know. You just don't want to look in that dark closet."
Sam snorted as he was reminded of saying something similar earlier to Cas.
"Come on. Whatever you say here . . . safe space, all right? I know how you humans like that term. So, go on then. Trust me." She flashed him another smile. "Share your skeletons, your fears, your hopes and dreams. Lay it all out there for me, so I can figure out an attack plan."
He smiled back, shaking his head. "So, even Cherubs are warriors then?"
"Warriors of love, yes," she stated matter-of-factly, raising a challenging brow at him. "Love is stronger than hate. Which is what makes you humans so deadly sometimes." She then clapped her hands suddenly. "But we're not talking about me here, Sam. We're discussing you. So, nice try, but I'm non-distractible." She then wagged her finger at him. "Not to mention, sister to Gabriel here?" she stated, pointing at herself. "Oh, and Balthazar . . ." She waved her hand airily. "And Castiel. We're not even going to discuss the others. Though, Anael—I mean, Jo—is pretty cool. When she isn't so full of herself that is." She then scoffed, shaking her head. "It can't be done, Sam. So, moving on. What is it? A crisis of your masculinity? I can work with that. You just have to tell me."
"It's not that."
He had realized long ago there was more to being a man than for what team one played. Not to mention, he was the one who was always trying to get his brother to see that emotions, particularly feelings, were okay to express. There was more to being a man than stereotypes. And he had learned that from his brother way before he had ever gone to Stanford.
"Okay . . ." She motioned for him to continue. "Then it's what? Come on. Use your words. Those big SAT words. I can take it."
"I don't know what it is, though."
"Yes, you do! All you freaking humans do! However, because you're a stupid Winchester and Dad didn't want us interfering with you, I can't see what that reason is exactly. And it's frankly pissing me off. So, Sam, I'm going to list off a bunch of things then. You just have to answer yes or no. Okay?"
"But I don't know."
She pointed at him and glared. "Is it that he's an archangel?"
Sam sighed, rolling his eyes. Fine. He'd play her game for now while he devised a plan. Not that he actually felt like he was in danger here with her at all. She still felt like an old friend for some reason or at the very least an acquaintance. "No."
"Is it because he's in a male vessel?"
"No." Sam could see beyond Gabe's vessel and see the archangel's true self. Not literally of course, but figuratively.
"Good. Because I'd kick your ass if it was," she replied with a poorly hidden smirk. "All right then. Is it because of your brother?"
He opened his mouth to respond before he paused. Was this because of his brother? For so long, they had been inter-reliant on one another, sleeping practically on top of one another every night (or close to it), all in each other's business about everything. Hell, Gabe himself had pointed that out even. "Maybe?" He didn't like the way that sat inside him, though. "I don't know."
"Add that to the list to ask about later. Got it," she remarked with a gentle smile. "Is it because of Castiel then?"
"No."
He was sure of that. Cas, in fact, had been the one all for it, it seemed. Just like Sam had been president of the Team Destiel. He knew he didn't have anything to worry about with Cas. At least not about that. Maybe long ago when the two were still hesitant with one another, not quite trusting the other, but they had been through too much to ignore their friendship and history now.
"Is it because you're finding yourself worried about what happens during sex with a very powerful being older than yourself?"
Sam choked instantly, coughing as he stared at her. "What?" He hadn't even thought about sex with Gabe. Hell, he was still trying to figure out what he felt for the guy.
She frowned. "He's a being of massive amount of light and energy, Sam. You're a smart guy. And human. And humans are, by definition, stupid. They think these things."
"Yeah, definitely not that." But, fuck, was he thinking about it now.
"All right. Let's see here. Is it that you think you could never measure up to his expectations because you're merely a human and what could you possibly offer an archangel?"
He stared at her. Oh . . . there was a very large reason against ever considering this. What would he have to offer to Gabe exactly if they started a relationship? He was like an insignificant dust particle compared to the fierce immortal being who could create mindscapes with a snap of his fingers.
"I'll take that as a no then." She cleared her throat. "Glad to see you're smarter than your brother at least, Sam."
"What?"
Dean had honestly wondered that? It was like sometimes he didn't even know his brother.
"Moving on." She forced a smile. "Are you worried about creating a Nephilim?"
His mouth dropped as his mind rebooted. What?
"Because his vessel would be the one to alter, not yours in these types of situations. You know, for the record, in case you wanted to know how those particular things worked. Constant vigilance and all that jazz."
"What?!" He ignored the Harry Potter reference as his mind reeled with this knowledge.
"Okay. That didn't occur to you. Didn't occur to your brother either actually."
He floundered for a moment, unable to think anything, as his mouth opened and closed rapidly.
"Wait. I got it!" She leaned towards him. "Is it because of your father's A+ Parenting skills? Because I could definitely bring John down here. You say the word, and I'll head upstairs and grab him. We could figure out what his thoughts would be exactly then so you can move on from it." She then paused. "But my understanding of him is now that he has your mother again up in Heaven, he just wants you boys happy. And he doesn't give a crap how that happens."
Somehow, he doubted it would be as easy as her sauntering into Heaven and kidnapping his father as she was making it out to be, but it was a moot point after all.
"Yeah, I stopped caring what my dad thought years ago." The words started flowing easier from his mouth for some reason. Maybe it was because she was a stranger. Maybe it was because she was a Cherub. He didn't know why, but he just kept answering.
"Good. Another way you're not like your brother." She tapped her lips as she thought for a moment. "What about this? Are you worried that my father, jackass that he is, will do something and take Gabriel from you again?"
He stared at her for a moment before he scratched the back of his neck. "Possibly." After all, he wouldn't put it past Chuck. The dick had shown that he didn't give a damn about any of his children.
"Okay. So, afraid of losing him. Not that I blame you there. He's died twice already. Well, technically once—whatever."
"But that's natural to worry about that, though," Sam stated, unable to keep the words inside.
"It is. We always worry about losing things we love." She leaned forward and patted his hand. "So, we got your brother, my deadbeat dad. I can work with that. What else?"
"He . . ." His mouth snapped shut instantly.
"Yes?" She then motioned around them. "Safe space, remember? No judgement. Trust me. I've heard it all."
"He confuses me."
"Join the club," she retorted. "But how so?"
Sam sighed heavily, glancing down at his half-eaten plate of food. He did need to figure this out, and he had said that he wanted to earlier. And she was willing to help him. So, what was the problem here exactly? It was always better to work something through with someone than to do it by one's self. Two heads and all that. And it wasn't like he could go to Cas this time, not with the former angel suffering from his own crap. And who better than a Cherub really to help with things concerning matters of the heart really?
"You know, I can't really hear your thoughts clearly all the time," she remarked dryly. "That takes energy, you see? And, well, currently trying to shield you from my brothers who are likely going to try and find you at some point, so . . . words would be nice, Sam. Yeah?"
He glanced at her and shook his head.
"How is it your brother can be a sarcastic, childish, pig-headed, stubborn, juvenile delinquent one moment, and then the next be sweet, kind, thoughtful, wonderful even—hell, the perfect big brother, the nicest guy, a fucking adult even?"
"Baffles the mind, doesn't it?" she drawled before she shrugged. "I don't know. Because we're not all black and white? Even angels can be gray at times." She shook her head. "And, you know, keep in mind this. He's been around your kind for so long. I'm sure he picked up some of your behaviors over the years. I know I have. I'm particularly fond of dark humor, sarcasm, and sass. But, then again, look at who my brothers and sister are. You'd have to have some of it in order not to be a robot all the time."
He noted the singular sister remark and filed it away for later. He needed to stay on task.
"You remember him from before, right?"
"Before what?" she replied with a quiet snort. "Before the Fall? Before Aunt Amara? Before Dad's temper tantrum? Before Lucifer was cast down? You have to be more specific here. I've lived a long life, Sam."
He glanced at her and frowned. "Wait. How old are you exactly?"
She raised a brow at him. "Okay, rude much?" She rolled her eyes soon after. "I'll forgive you, though, since you obviously were never taught not to ask a lady her age." She huffed, clearly insulted. "To answer your stupid question, I was created days before Dad went out for a pack of smokes and never came back."
"Uh . . . what?" Since when did angels . . .
"Hey, give me a little credit here, will you? I'm hip. I know all about that Game of Thrones ending, which, for the record, was complete and utter bullshit." She waved her hand dismissively.
"You watched—"
"Again, Sam, not talking about me here. We're here for you. So, back on track here."
He sighed and shook his head. "But you do remember Gabriel?"
"Like I could ever forget my big brother," she laughed, rolling her eyes. "He's sort of unforgettable, you know?" She exhaled loudly. "But what are you wanting to know here exactly? If he was like that up in Heaven before he left?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"Eloquent as usual, I see." She shrugged. "He was. He'd joke around with us young gens, but if we were doing something seriously stupid and dangerous, he'd put us in our place. He took—takes—his role seriously. But most of the time he was with Balthazar and Castiel, mostly Cas."
"That didn't jar you at all? His dual personalities?"
She tilted her head slightly, reminding him of Cas instantly. "What?" She scoffed. "He's not Jekyll and Hyde, Sam! They're not total opposites from one another. You have Gabe, and then you have Gabriel. Just like we have Cas, and then Castiel." She then waved her hand dramatically again. "My rebellious big brother, though, just enjoys being Cas more nowadays. You can blame your brother for that. I certainly do."
"But—"
"Oh, seriously, come on." She stood up and walked to the other side of the table. "Gabe and Gabriel are the same person. They are. He's got a funny side, and he's got a really serious side. He doesn't show it a lot. Because think about what he's lived through. He watched his older brothers fight. All the damn time. He watched Lucifer, someone he looked up to at times, be cast down to Hell by his other big brothers. He watched Raphael and Michael go for a power grab. And our dad—he skipped out of town abandoning all of us, basically telling us that we were boring and that he needed a new family. Yeah. I'd rely on humor too. Just so I wouldn't cry and think about how shitty it all was. Wouldn't you? Or are you going to lie and say that awesome Winchester line of 'It's fine?"
"But—"
She threw her hands up into the air. "Your brother even has two sides of the coin. You have two sides. Everyone does. You can't honestly say this is your problem? Because this is a stupid problem."
"It's not just that, though!" he argued, disliking her disputes.
"Oh, thank Heavenly Host for that," she quipped. "What else, Sam?"
"Do I like him because Dean has Cas? Because I want my own angel? Is that what this is?"
She stared at him, blinking slowly, which caused him to continue unloading everything he had held back earlier.
"Is this some messed-up brotherly rivalry thing? Because that's not fair to Gabe. He deserves someone who loves and cherishes the hell out of him. I don't know if that's me, though. And it's driving me fucking insane. Because with all this crap going down with Chuck, I can't trust a damn thing. Like, was Lucifer the horrible angel Chuck made him out to be? Or was it solely because of the Mark of Cain and that whole crap? Even Michael—seeing him again—" His words stopped suddenly before he ran a hand through his long hair. "Yeah, I like it when your brother jokes with me, makes some stupid remark, but do I like it because I'm attracted to him or is it because he's paying attention to me?"
"Or is it because Dad's messing with your story, rewrites and all that?" she offered.
"Exactly! I can't be sure of anything anymore! My thoughts, my feelings, my—everything—it's all messed up in here. Like this . . . it's all too much."
"So, if, say, Dad killed Gabe, how would you react?"
"What?" Sam instantly sat up straighter, staring at her horrified.
"If Dad killed Gabe again, how would you react?" she repeated slowly.
"I'd be angry."
"And?"
"I'd miss him."
"And?"
"I don't know!"
"You do too know, you freaking idiot! Open the closet door and step out!"
"But I'm not in the closet!"
"Oh, you are so far deep in the closet that you're in the fucking basement, Sam!" she snarled, her eyes flashing for half a second with Grace. "You like my brother. You know how I know? I can see your fucking bond with him! It's weak, but it's there. You just are too damn scared to admit it. Whether that's because of your brother, my deadbeat dad, yours, Heaven, fucking Rick Astley, I don't know. You do! So, Sam, be a man and reach deep down in your fucking soul! If my father killed Gabe, how the hell would you react?"
"I wouldn't know what to do!" he shouted back, inhaling sharply when she clapped in response.
"Good," she beamed. "Now, we're getting somewhere."
"What?"
She rolled her eyes. "Scenario number two, if Gabe moved on from you, got tired of waiting for you to pick up your balls so to speak, how irritated would you be?"
He reared back slightly with his mouth hung slightly open. He was not used to this crassness.
"Come on, Sam. Work with me here. We're finally getting somewhere. Think!"
"I-I don't know." She groaned loudly. "I'd want him to be happy!"
"Even if that wasn't with you?" she retorted, raising a brow of disbelief.
"I mean, I'd . . . maybe? I'm messy, though."
She tossed her head back with loud cackles almost instantly, slapping a hand against the table.
He watched her in utter confusion. He didn't see why that was funny. He was. He was full of so many underlying issues, complexes that—
"You are a fucking idiot! I-I don't even—oh Dad . . . like . . . Sam!" Her eyes reopened before she met his look. "You don't think my brother's a mess? At all? Like, he's perfect and crap? All the time? That he has no issues, none? Seriously?" She snorted. "Wow! I want your drugs."
"I don't think he's perfect!" he argued.
"Well, miracles do happen. What do you know?" she retorted. "My brother has been seeking one thing his entire life, Sam. One!"
"I know he has! And that's what makes this so damn hard!"
"No. What makes this so damn hard is that you're being stupid about this whole thing. You like him. I don't know how to make that clearer to you. Maybe a tattoo? I don't know. But you like him. He absolutely adores you. Hell, I'm sure he'd do the same thing as Cas has and give up his Grace for you in a heartbeat if you asked. Fuck, he'd even give up his damn sweets for you, Sam. And trust me. Gabe—he wouldn't do that for just anyone. He's being extremely patient with you, giving you all the time you need to figure this out. Something he's never done in his entire life before. You know that? He's used to taking. Snapping his fingers and conjuring up anything to make himself happy—whether that was women, dogs, cake, pie, candy, you name it. Not giving a whole lot in return—in other words not putting a lot of effort into things. But you're worth every bit of that in his eyes."
Sam opened his mouth, only to close it a moment later. He couldn't argue with what he knew was unfortunately true. Gabe was doing all that.
"So, the question we now find ourselves asking is this. Have you been putting in the same effort? Honestly, no you haven't. Nowhere close to it. In fact," she leaned forward "other than the whole flirting back with him the other day with the whole let Cas know about how Gabe helped create him crap, you haven't done shit, Winchester. But don't lament. There's hope for you. Take the snowball incident for instance. You two were mighty cute for that. When you let go of shit and let yourself enjoy the moment at least."
"You were there for that?"
She shook her head and sighed, letting her head fall forward. She then lifted her head back up a moment later with a groan and held out a hand. "Hi. I'm Roz, the Cherub in charge of making Sabriel a reality. I don't like stupid humans, and I really have no patience for idiots who frankly can't get their very long-locked and albeit gorgeous heads of their asses. I have one goal. Just one currently. Do you know what it is, Sam? Hmm?" She leaned closer. "To take this wonderful arrow here and ram it deep into your chest. So deep that there is no doubt in your mind. However, to do that, well, we need to get to a good place. Otherwise, we get Lord Voldemort, and I don't want anything to do with that no-nose freak. Got it?"
He stared at her before a laugh escaped. He covered his eyes and shook his head. Of all the lines, he never expected to hear that one from an angel.
"Yeah, I thought you'd appreciate that one. So, let's get to it." She cracked her knuckles loudly and cleared her throat.
"Roz?"
"Yes?" she sighed exasperatedly, rolling her dark eyes again hard to the heavens.
"What you're saying is you want me to be more like Fanfic Sam, right?"
She stared at him for a moment before she scratched her jaw and shrugged. "Well, do you think you can do that, Sam?"
"I can try," he replied, catching her gaze. He had read enough of Fanfic Sam lately to see the appeal. In the stories it always led to a moment of brevity before smut. Not that this would be the case this time. After all, real life was more complicated than that.
"It's a start, I suppose." She pinched her lips together and leaned back. "But what have we learned here today?"
"That you hate Winchesters."
"Oh, Sam," she laughed, shaking her head. "I don't hate you boys. You just drive me up the wall. So do my brothers. So, at least you're in good company there."
He snorted, grinning as he glanced away from her. He caught the pictures he hadn't noticed then before lining the counter. They were of Sam and Gabe with a few of Dean and Cas and Mary and John. "Are you going to ram your arrow deep in my chest now?" he remarked, turning back to her.
"No. I just needed you to get to this point. Where you'd stop fighting and start accepting."
"Yeah." He brushed back his hair and sighed. "I don't know if I'm—he deserves so much more than what I can give him, you know?" he stated quietly. "I mean, I get why you're here. You say that he and I have a bond of some sort. He told me that we did. But . . . I don't want to hurt him, Roz. Not when I know he's had so many others in his life who have."
"Hey, Sam?"
He met her eyes.
"You know what worked for your brother and Cas finally?"
"What?" He blinked in confusion. That was random.
"They talked. They sat down like responsible adults, and they talked it all out." She then shrugged lethargically. "Is my brother being an idiot now and not telling Dean that the reason he can't sleep is because he's terrified of the whole process, namely how he's afraid he'll fall asleep one night and wake up the following morning to find out all of it wasn't real? That he and Dean are still just friends? Yeah. He is. I still love him, but he's an idiot. All those boys are. They get it from Dad." She shrugged. "But, you see, Sam, they talked. You might want to do the same. You know? Sit Gabe down—doesn't have to be a candlelit dinner or anything, but he likes fish, mainly walleye or salmon—and talk with him. Tell him your fears, your worries. Let him know how you don't want to hurt him. That you think he deserves the world. Fucking be honest. He can handle it. Trust me. He's a big man despite his vessel's small stature. His wings can handle it."
"Gabe likes walleye?"
She rolled her eyes instantly. "That's what you got out of that?" She scoffed. "How you humans survived this long is just . . ." She held up a hand. "I can't even right now. I just can't."
He burst out laughing instantly. She seriously sounded like a teenager sometimes. How was this a fierce warrior of God? Though, he appreciated her levity she was bringing to the matter. Not to mention her non-judgment of him. That was refreshing and made all of this so much easier.
That said, she still did kidnap him so he couldn't entirely—
"Be gone, Sam." She flicked her wrist at him a moment later, and everything suddenly vanished.
A/N: I freely admit it. I love Roz. I really do. She's so spunky and fiery and fun to write. Course that's just me. What do I know? Oh, and if you're wondering if I left you with another loose thread that I have to tie up, have no fear. It will all be revealed soon enough. :)