The Tediousness of Temperance

by ProdigySammyyyy6056

This is the story of how Sam Winchester and Gabriel form an unlikely alliance, to kill Lilith and avert the apocalypse. The archangel makes it so the youngest Winchester must decide between his humanity or the fate of the world. With Heaven and Hell alike determined to stop them, the two form… something that resembles a relationship. (Sabriel, top!Gabriel, bottom!Sam)

2. Gabriel is Slightly Less of a Dick

September 21, 2008

The entirety of the wooden frame is covered in black-painted symbols of diverse types. Dull, yellow lights hang high above Dean Winchester and Bobby Singer's heads, barely illuminating the wide expanse of the warehouse they'd found. Although Bobby had already completed the ritual, no entity of any kind appeared and it out Dean at unease more than anything.

"Maybe Sam was right," Bobby murmurs adjusting the shotgun in his hands, "He warned us not to look into what brought you back and look what happened to Pamela! I'm thinking that whatever did piece your sticky bits back together is nothing but bad mojo. And let's face it – We have no idea what your brother is now, for all we know…" He winced, not even wanting to voice the accusation.

"I know, Bobby," Dean hisses, running a hand down his face, "Don't you think I've thought about this? But if my pain-in-the-ass little brother got himself into something he can't handle, I've got to be there to back him up. I'm no help if I don't know what I'm facing."

"I'm trustin' you on this boy," The seasoned hunter responds, his eyes wary as he grips his weapon harder.

The younger hunter let out an exasperated sigh, twirling his knife on the old table beneath him, "Are you sure you did the ritual right," Bobby inclined his head forward, his features indicating annoyance, "Sorry. Touchy, touchy, huh?"

The moment the words left his mouth, the building began to shake to its very foundation. The tin slabs that made up the roof rattled and lifted into the air, before banging back down revealing brief glimpses of the night sky. Both hunters stood back to back, weapons raised in defense of whatever thing they'd just summoned.

"Wishful thinking, but maybe it's just the wind," Dean quips.

The dim lights exploded in a shower of glass and sparks. Then the doors blast open with a gust of wind, an eerie shadow coming into view. He swivels and turns to meet the ominous shadows, only to find a dark-haired man in a beige trench coat, arms loose by his sides. Both hunters simultaneously shoot at the man, blinking in confusion as the man doesn't even make a single indication of pain or even annoyance.

Dean grabs the demon-killing knife, circling around the trench coat cladded man as he rasps out, "Who are you?"

"I am the one who gripped you right and raised you from perdition."

"Yeah," The hunter snarls, his lip curling, "Thanks for that." He jabs at the man with his knife, the feeling of flesh and muscle being torn under the blade. His expression of anger subsides as it turns into one of confusion. The man, with his almost curious expression does not bleed, but simply pulls the knife from his breast and lets it fall to the ground.

Bobby panics, making an attack from behind with a crowbar, but the man anticipates this. He grabs the bar, yanking the old man forward like a rag doll, and sets his two main fingers against his wrinkled forehead. The whites of Bobby's eyes show as he goes limp and slumps down, the man's gaze following his ascent. Dean gawks at this, his mouth nearly hitting the floor.

"We need to talk, Dean," The man insists, adjusting his trench coat with utter nonchalance, "Alone. For what you are about to hear is what my companion put as 'need-to-know'." He explains, mimicking air quotes. In that instant, all the intimidation this strange man had elicited dissipated quicker than a cheesy poof in the hands of Cartman.

"Your friend is alive," He reassures, sifting through assorted items that the hunters had set on the table.

"Who are you," Dean repeats.

"Castiel."

"Yeah, I figured that much," The hunter grits out, "I mean what are you?"

Castiel tilts his head like a curious dog, piercing blue eyes staring unblinkingly at Dean. "I am an angel of the Lord," He states, "And I was sent to you by the archangel Gabriel, concerning your brother."

"Get the hell out of here," He utters, his voice going low, "There's no such thing. Now tell me what the hell Sam – "

"This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith," Castiel explains softly, "Gabriel made it explicit that you would prove to be difficult to convince, much more than your brother. Perhaps if you see, you will believe."

A crack of thunder in the distance, and the light ballasts forth. The wings of the angelic creature arced high above its gracious head of brown hair. They were made of long, nimble feathers that would make even the mightiest birds of prey turn green with envy. They were dark as the foliage of some wavering thicket, and bathed in shadows, like half-comprehended notions that float dim through children's brains.

"I came to you because you are in the dark to all of the things at work," Castiel explains as he slowly sheathes his wings, "And though your brother wishes for it to remain that way, Gabriel and I have deemed it wise to keep you informed. Especially with the role heaven wishes for you to play, it is blatantly obvious that you are needed on our side."

Dean blinks. He blinks again. Again. "Who the fuck is Gabriel?"

Sam Winchester was frantically disarranging his neat pile of clothes, that days earlier he had tucked so carefully into his dresser drawer. He grabbed a fistful of shirts and threw them into the waiting duffel beside his feet. Gabriel was taking a much slower approach and was being a childish asshole by grabbing handfuls of Sam's boxers and cutting them into a range of styles of panties.

"Kinky," Gabriel comments, examining his latest pair, "You should wear these next time we – "Still holding the mutilated cloth, that now resembled a thong, he made vulgar motions with his hands.

Sam's face flushed furiously as he snatched up his remaining boxers, before his idiot companion could butcher anymore. The archangel smiles wolfishly and then wedged himself between the hunter's legs. Sam swallowed hard.

"Is now really the time for this? We should be packed and ready to go by the time Crowley returns with the spell," Sam stuttered as Gabriel's hands started working at the zipper for his jeans. The hunter bit back a moan as the archangel reached his hand into his boxers, grazing his already hard cock. The shorter man nuzzled him and pressed a kiss to his clothed thigh.

"What's goin' on in that on in that noggin' of yours there, Sammy," Gabriel asks, his tone one of dearest as he backs away from the latter's open legs, "You're usually not the one to reject a pity blow-job."

Sam stood, pulling back on his jeans and zipping then in a flourish. He looked down, the other's shorter stature bringing the top of his head up to around Sam's nose. "It's nothing, really. Unbelievably, I'm not in a perpetual state of horniness like you."

The archangel shot him a mock-offended look. "Come on, this is one of those ridiculously small windows when I'm borderline interested in your life. So, what's the deal?"

"I-it's nothing," Sam deflected.

"Fine," The shorter man huffs, rolling his eyes as he turns to sift through the dresser's contents, "But If you need to get something off your chest – like your shirt – I'm here."

Sam doesn't think to wonder what he's looking for, which makes the bag of joints tossed onto the bed moments later unexpected. He gives Gabriel a sharp look and wonders whether to be impressed or worried. The archangel offers the tiniest of self-satisfied grins and plants one between his lips, before holding a flaming finger to the end. After a moment he takes a deep inhale, and then proceeds to exhale as he goes lax on the bed.

"Relax, it's not weed," Gabriel says, "It's a plant that grows out in the desert by a feathered little dragon's cave. Considering how much of a nerd you are, I figured you'd be able to identify-"

"Oh, it's serpens grass," Sam says examining one of the joints closely, "You realize that this grown from the creature's shit, right?"

Gabriel shrugs and inhales again. Sam shakes his head and throws the joint into the trash. When the shorter man offers him the already lit one, he shakes his head minutely in reply, and he doesn't press him further. They both look at the door.

"Couldn't Crowley just use the spell to put The Witnesses to rest," The archangel murmurs, his upside-down gaze still on the door, "Why should we have to stop our rare but coveted vacation time, when we've got a perfectly capable demon lackey?"

"I trust him about as far as I can throw him," Sam responds with a snort, "Besides, it's dangerous to take advantage of unpredictable allies in these kinds of situations."

Gabriel shrugs, and leans across the bed to tuck his hand under Sam's jaw. The serpens grass is slack between his lips, and his champagne colored hues are starting to redden. Sam's lips are set in a thin line, his own hazel eyes squinted in the smoky haze. The archangel laughs, the hand on the human's jaw pulls away and then moves down to his chest, giving a powerful push that makes the bigger man sprawl across the bed.

"Breathe," Gabriel says, and Sam does.

The smoke floods his lungs, heavy and rich with the warmth and breath of the archangel's own vessel. He exhales as the smaller man leans away, and he knows that they won't be able to hide from their problems in the smoke forever, but like the vacation it was just an effortless way to have a temporary escape. He doesn't know how high he'll have to be before he quits caring all together.

"The seals are going to keep breaking" Gabriel murmurs. He shotguns a second hit into Sam's mouth, and doesn't pull away, "Until we kill Lilith. But we're not going to be any help if we're so wound up, we can barely function, are we? So just... breathe."

Sam breathes out through his nose and closes his eyes against the smoke and reality. Their proximity is a simpler pleasure than that of the impending shared high. The human can smell him, musky with smoke and sweet underneath. Gabriel leaned his head down until his forehead bumped against his companion's, whispering words that were only supposed to be thoughts.

"…I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Not again."

The glowing embers leaped and twirled in a fiery dance, twinkling like stars in the hot swirling air before cascading to the darkness below like gleeful fire fiends. Gabriel flies outside the massive cube-shaped stone cage of archaic design. It had intricate runes engraved into its sides, suspended on seemingly-infinite chains in the dark, stormy void of Hell. Sam is a mere soul, his body already waltzing around the Earth like Pinocchio before he was real boy.

Gabriel doesn't even want to look at Sam, so he keeps his gaze trained on Lucifer with intensity. "It's over, Lucifer," He growls, voice a low rumble, "Let Sam go, now!"

"Well, it's your lucky day, Little brother. I'm not possessing him, not anymore. When we took the tumble down here, we were separated, but we always manage to find each other again, right Sammy," Lucifer whispers chillingly, his eyes glowing like pools of claret. Sam sinks in the devil's arms, and the soft down of Lucifer's wings wrap tighter even as his fingertips glance over Sam's own, "Sam is mine, I've already taken him. Spiritually, emotionally, physically – In the biblical sense, of you catch my drift…"

"You son of a bitch," Gabriel roars, his grace fluctuating dangerously, so much that it made Sam flinch, "I don't care that I am not strong enough to fight you, Lucifer. If you don't let Sam go, I will end you. I swear." The younger archangel vows. Sam's feels the devil's wings flicker against the air, a warning, and he squirms in Satan's arms.

Lucifer tilts his head and claps one hand on Sam's head, the other hand tightening on the human's toned stomach as he pulls him closer. The devil's forked tongue flicks out, a trail of saliva going down the side of his cheek. "He's damaged goods, Gabe," He chuckles darkly, planting a teasing kiss on the spot he licked, "What is the human phrase? Oh, yes – He's free real estate."

"S-s-stop," Sam chokes out, his voice like a silent scream. He gasps as Lucifer rubs his stomach absently as if he doesn't even know he's reaching out to touch him, like it's just a habit, "I'm too tired. I-I-I'm too tired…"

"Sam," The youngest archangel grits out, "I'm not just going to give up on you. You can't expect me to just – "

"Just go! Just…" Sam closes his eyes, almost as if he can sense the devil's growing smile, "I'm done fighting. I can't keep going on, not after everything that's happened."

"What do you mean not again?" Sam asks softly, snapping the latter back into reality.

"Nothing," Gabriel responds, snuffing out the serpens grass, "Just a slip in words, I guess. Come on, we should finish packing. Crowley should be here any minute – "Sam grabs his wrist, so the archangel starts, surprised and drawn in. The human kisses him, the taste of smoke fresh on his breath.

Castiel, unaware of the archangel and the human's activities, flies into the hotel room. Dean Winchester is in tow, nauseous from his first time flying with an angel, so he quickly makes a dash for the nearest waste bin. He lifts his head, wrinkling his nose in disgust when he sees a discarded joint and at least half a dozen used condoms. But then his gaze settles upon Gabriel a.k.a. the trickster, exchanging saliva with his baby brother.

"…What the fuck?"

"Dean-" Sam jumps up, almost trampling the smaller man in the process," Cas – What did you do?"

"He needs to know. There's no point hiding it now-" Castiel is resolute, "We need all of the help we can get, Sam. The seals are going to start breaking much faster than our minuscule numbers can handle. We need people, hunters, skilled hunters like your brother to handle the seals and such, so we can focus on those who are causing them to break."

"That was not your call to make-" And Sam is furious, more furious than ever.

Gabriel interjected, "Sam, I made the call," He holds up a wary hand as the human opens his mouth to object, "Don't take this out on Cas, he was just following orders, okay? If you're going to get all snippy with anyone, it should be me, but before you do… I think you need to listen to reasoning."

Dean finally speaks and looks at Sam, expression obvious. "Sam. I think you've got a hella lot to explain, so you better start right now," And his expression darkens as he utters, "Starting off with the obvious fact that you were...canoodling with the fucking trickster – "

"Hey, we're both here because we love Sam," Gabriel states with a shrug, digging his hands into his pockets, "No need to get all snippy like your little brother. Must be a family trait – What?" Dean stops talking. Castiel doesn't look all that surprised. Sam turns a furious red and his jaw nearly hits the floor.

"I'm sorry," Dean chokes out, "You want to run that by me again?"

The archangel feigns casualness, giving another shrug, "I love Sam. The Earth is round," He inclines his head forward, trying to hide his amused smirk. He snaps his fingers, and a q-tip appears, "Do you need to clean out your ears?"

"Stop it," Sam grates out, "Gabe…" Blushing would have been no problem, but what Sam did was go as red as a beetroot and radiate heat like a hot pan. You could have cooked a three-course meal on his face. No-one could have missed it. The youngest Winchester wanted the earth to open and swallow him whole. He wished to 'do a Daphne' and drop through a "Scooby-Doo" style trap door in the floor.

"Gabriel," Castiel whispers, "So it's true? What I saw in your head implied, and I saw signs but…"

Gabriel urged the seraph to continue, his voice like steel, "But, what?"

"It's not what you think-" Sam's voice sounds weaker than it should be, "Dean, please."

"Oh, God, Sammy. No. Don't look at me like that," Dean expostulated, his lip curling in disgust," Fuck! Don't tell me that you're implying this goes both ways-" Sam's silence is the only answer anyone needed," Boy, you sure know how to pick 'em."

"Hey, watch it, Ken doll!" Gabriel who had been inordinately silent, finally snapped.

"How long has this been going on?" The hunter grits out, his eyes were narrowed, rigid, cold, hard, "Answer me, damn it!"

"Dean-" Sam breathes, his voice trembling.

"Well, I'm glad someone decided to set that straight," Dean announced, a mocking laugh making its way past his lips, "Here I thought it was sick, twisted thing you'd been forced into but no, turns out the truth is worse, that Bobby and I are right not to trust you because you are fucking around with a monster, a thing that wants nothing more than to…" Dean's voice trails off, "For fuck's sake Sam, he has tried to kill both of us on multiple occasions – He made you relive the same day over and over, continually having to watch me bite the dust –"

"Would you appreciate an apology?" Gabriel mutters, looking at him with a blank expression. Dean shoots him a glare, but the archangel simply rolls his eyes and continues, "For what it is worth, I am sorry you can't let go of the past."

Sam sighs loudly," Gabe, that is the worst apology I have ever heard in my entire life," Sam moans, head in his hands, "Did you even try- Okay, how about this. Try pretending you are apologizing to me when you apologize to him."

"Sam... I don't even apologize to you," Gabriel snorts, rolling his eyes again.

"You did once," Sam argues back and crosses his arms.

"I only said sorry because you weren't going to put out unless – "

"Gabe - !"

Dean shakes his head, taking a heavy seat on the bed, "I think I'm going to be sick," He then eyes the ruffled sheets and abundant number of condoms in the trash bin, he makes a face of disgust and quickly stands up again, "Again."

"Shut up, Dean," Sam snaps, breathing too heavily. Then he takes a deep breath and turns to Gabriel, "You happy now? You get what you fucking wanted?"

In that moment Sam knew he was already far away. Once more the youngest Winchester was the enemy. These swings from most loved to most hated would be the end of him. His states had no greyscale, only the polar extremes existed. Sam drew in a deep breath; the burning hard stare would last only as long as it took Dean to think of the most brutally cutting thing, he could tear him down with. And after that he could kiss anything breakable goodbye. Which right now might just be his nose, it was so hard to tell and so pointless to run.

"I don't give a rat's ass about your thick-skulled brother's opinion, Sam," Gabriel responds, "This is not why we're here, not really. But if you want me to pretend, I'm heartbroken over his reaction, I will. All you have to do is say the word," He puts a hand on his forehead, and mimics a swooning gesture, "I think there are more pressing matters at hand."

Dean chuckles darkly, throwing his arms into the air, "Enlighten me then, asshole."

"Normally, I wouldn't care what you or anyone else is stupid enough to believe, Dean. But Sam thinks if you as a pretty damn good hunter, so I need your cooperation to ensure that the fucking world doesn't get deep fried, even if your existence is making me tempted to just let it happen," Gabriel barks, his champagne colored hues eliciting a threatening glow, "Sit and keep your mouth shut. Not you, Sam," The archangel clarifies, "Just let me explain everything that's going on." He extends two fingers forehead, moving to press them against the oldest Winchester's forehead.

Sam grabbed Gabriel's wrist in alarm, and hissed, "What are you trying to do, Gabe?"

"Nothing," The archangel answered, "Just making this whole thing go a whole lot faster."

"Stop being so childish."

"Stop being so oblivious."

"Me? I'm the one being oblivious?"

"Obviously."

"Oblivious to what? As far as I can see, I'm the only one here who has not been acting like a total lunatic - What is the matter with you – "Sam exclaims as two glowing fingers were pressed against his brother's forehead. Gabriel didn't even flinch when Dean collapsed, free falling onto the sandy carpet below with a loud groan.

The archangel chuckled, casually stepping over the human, "Like I said, making this thing go a whole lot faster. I relayed all of the information he needed directly into the limbic system of his brain," He shrugged eyeing the limp body, "He should be fine."

There was a whistling, and all conscious attention in the room turned to the demon. Crowley smirked, holding up an old fraying piece of paper, "I've got the spell, but if this is an inconvenient time – "

"Oh, thank you, Crowley," Sam states, taking the paper from the demon, "You're doing a good thing for us and I appreciate it."

"Appreciation means truly little to me, darling. But I could go for another kiss – "

"What?" Gabriel shrieks with a voice so high, all the glass in the room shattered.

"We need to talk."

"No, there's nothing to talk about," Gabriel insists, "I told your brother what I felt, so… end of discussion."

Sam shook his head, annoyed now by his insistence. Why were they even arguing about this? "Alright," Sam warned, his eyes narrowing, "If that's the way you want to do it, but don't expect me to be anything but blunt. First, I'm really holding myself back not punching your teeth in for saying something like that to Dean. That was not right, and you know it."

Gabriel looked up, his jaw nearly hitting the damn floor, "Not right?"

"No," Sam hisses, "No, it's not right because that's something that you've never even told me before! And the fact that you'd tell my brother that just to spite him further – "

"I didn't say it to him just to spite him," Gabriel quickly sputters out, clearly offended, "I just told him what I felt!"

Sam had no words to explain how he was feeling then, how confused and lost, but even if he did, he doubted they'd make it through the tight knot in his throat or his clenched jaw. Gabriel had basically insinuated that the he felt something more for him, than either of them had bargained for. He could feel the heat of a blush spread up his neck and burn his cheeks, because he knew there was some truth to that.

"Hell," The archangel mutters, placing a hand on his neck, "I've been thinking about it for a while now… What the future may hold for me and you, and, me and you. Maybe after all of this over… I don't know, honestly."

"What," Sam chokes out, his hands clenching at his sides, "You want to settle down, get married, maybe have a few kids? Gabe, I gave up on that kind of life a long, long time ago… Even if we do survive this…"

Harsh, but true. Gabriel flinched, but Sam didn't wait for him to argue his case any longer. He knew that if anyone could convince him the sky was yellow, it was the archangel. So, yes, he fled, in a manner of speaking, he stood up and walked to the other side, avoiding the latter's gaze.

"No, no, you're right. I get it," Gabriel mutters, "Look, you stay here with your brother. Cas and I will handle The Witnesses, we've got the spell, so we should be good."

"Thank you," Sam says softly. There was a fluttering of feathers and then the archangel was gone. And not a moment too soon, for as soon as he disappeared his brother appeared in the room.

Dean kicked a chair out of his way as he lunged at Sam. He grabbed his shirt, yanked him forward. Even though Sam was bigger, stronger, Dean's rage made him strong enough. The younger Winchester turned his head away, his nose and cheek muscles twitching. He was beginning to huff small, angry breaths.

"With everything you know," Dean presses, keeping his voice deadly calm, "I could have helped or started helping a hell of a lot sooner, you stupid, stupid son of a bitch."

"That's the problem," Sam says, "I never wanted to drag you into any of this, not after you went to literal hell! I didn't want you to see the consequences of bringing me back. Saving my life, me, all it did…I have to make up for it."

"Screw that," Dean snarls, shaking his brother, "Sam, it is my job to protect you! Hell, or not, that will never change!"

"No," Sam objected, his breathing becoming erratic, "No. After all the shit that you've done for me, it is my turn… My turn to put you first, Dean. No matter what it does to me."

"This is putting me first? Pushing me away, keeping me in the dark… Turning yourself into this...?" Dean asks, voice cracking open, "You've got a pretty twisted idea of putting someone first! You didn't have to do to this to yourself, we could have worked together… found a way to kill Lilith our way…" His grip was starting to go limp.

"Don't you get it? I never had a chance Dean. I have demon blood in me," Sam's voice is trembling, and his vision starts to blur as he continues, "You're angry, and, trust me, I understand. I'm willingly taking in the poison that we've been trained to kill our entire lives, and fuck I love it – I love it, Dean. Because no matter what I say or what I do I can't deny the fact that I am a monster! But there isn't another way! This, this is the only option," A single tear runs down his cheek and he furiously wiped it away, "I am willing to become what every single damn thing, in my entire life has been pushing me to be, for you, for everyone that I love Dean! Because killing Lilith, averting the apocalypse, that's what matters!"

Dean's stomach drops straight to the floor and keeps on going. The way Sam's talking about it scares him worse than any demon he's ever faced. "Sammy," He chokes out, releasing his brother entirely, "I can't just stand by and watch you do this to yourself, you can't ask me to do that. It goes against every single damn thing I've been trying to do my entire life!"

"I know," The youngest Winchester whispers, "But you have to, Dean. It's not about the two of us anymore, it's the whole damn world at stake this time. I'll be damned if I'm letting the entire world burn because I'm not willing to throw myself into the fire."

The older Winchester slowly nods, running a hand over his mouth, "Okay," He lets out a trembling breath, and repeats, "Okay, but if you're doing this, you are not keeping me in the dark another damn minute. From this point forward, we are in this… together."

"Okay," Sam agrees, "I suppose with that out of the way, you want to know about the other hulking elephant in the room."

"I don't know if I want to know," Dean mutters, "Like I said before… you sure know how to pick them. It's just… Why didn't you tell me? That you're – "

"Bisexual?" Sam shrugs, and mutters," I guess it never came up. With all the shit going on we haven't exactly had time to have a coming-out party."

"I'll throw you one when all of this shit is past us," Dean says with a smirk.

September 22, 2008

The next night, the hotel room is eerily quiet, quiet as an anchor in a dead calm sea. Gabriel and Castiel both beings with no need for sleep are huddled in the living room, talking softly in Enochian. They're interrupted by the pitter-patter of bare feet on the hardwood floor, and the two angels look up, meeting the intruder's steely gaze. Dean is leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, fingers clenched around two bottles of beer.

"Cas," Dean utters, "Can you give Gabe and I a moment to talk alone?"

Castiel eyed Dean strangely, not realizing that he was referring to him. Gabriel chuckles softly, saying something in Enochian, and Castiel's eyes widen in understanding. The seraph turned to the human and slowly nodded, and with a ruffle of feathers he was gone, leaving the archangel and the human alone. Dean awkwardly sits next to the latter, offering him one of the beers, and after a moment he takes it.

"So, you are telling the truth, no tricks?" Dean asks, clasping his own beer in his hands, "Because if you are, that is some of the stupidest shit I have ever heard."

"Stupid?" Gabriel says, voice soft, "I showed you the future I came from, you know what's in store for your brother. It's stupid to want to keep him from becoming addicted to demon blood? To prevent a future where you beat him to a pulp and tell him he was a freak, did I mention you entertained the idea of killing him? Oh, and you let him take the blame for things that were not his burden to bare. You abandoned him and made him feel like he had to hide things because otherwise you'd lock him in the panic room or hunt down like a fucking animal."

Dean shook his head, gritting his teeth, "You've got some nerve, trying to turn this all on me…"

Gabriel rounds on Dean, advancing as his grace emits a powerful, dangerous glow, "Or maybe you recall the part where he loses his soul! His soul, Dean! Then you go and stuff it back down his gullet because you can't face being alone! This mutilated, flayed alive soul that had no place in any meatsuit…" He chuckled darkly, slamming his beer bottle onto the table, "He goes insane, Dean, like any human would."

Dean's stomach cramps like he got socked in the gut, he could feel the intense, unbridled power radiating from the being before him. The fear travelled in the human's veins but never made it to his facial muscles or skin. His complexion remained pale and matt, his eyes as steady as if he were conversing with a witness to a case.

"Sam doesn't know," Dean slowly says, stepping forward and keeping his voice calm, "Does he? About his future, you only filled him in on what he needed to know. That he had to grow stronger, so he could kill Lilith before she breaks all 66 seals, but you didn't fill him in on the details, did you?"

The archangel narrows his eyes, nostrils flaring, before slowly nodding, "I couldn't tell him," He admits, "If I told him the real reasons, I'm doing what I'm doing, he'd never go along with it. He's selfless to the point of stupidity, and what I'm doing, it's not to save the world, it's to save him. The world just happens to get saved in the process! And fine, I'll admit it. Sam is the one good thing that's ever happened to me. So, sue me, I don't want to give him up," He takes a calming breath, "Selfish reasons aside - The less he knows, the safer he is. He can't know too much, or we risk him unintentionally repeating the exact events – "

"Oh," The human snarls, cutting the latter off, "Now I see – You don't want to fill him in because you're afraid he won't like the full extent of your plan, huh? That you're only helping him get strong enough to kill Lilith, not to save the world, but so that you don't have to give him up again. He deserves to have a choice in all of this, you selfish son of a –"

"Don't act like I'm the only one acting out of selfishness, Dean. You dragged him back into this. You wanted to keep your brother for yourself, but not in any way that would protect him," The archangel countered, pointing at the latter accusingly, "You left him alone and defenseless and beat him down when he needed you most."

Dean snaps, "That was your future, not mine."

"That doesn't matter, Dean. Even now, all you can see is what he may become, not what he's trying to. And face it, bucko, even in this future you've already done more than enough," Gabriel keeps going as he mutters audibly under his breath, "You should thank your lucky stars your brother loves you, considering you don't deserve it."

"Gabriel," Sam's voice startles everyone, "Leave my brother alone."

Both Dean and Gabriel turned in surprise to Sam who was standing in the doorway, his hair still rumpled from the few hours of sleep he'd gotten. The youngest Winchester had been awake for about an hour, puking his guts out in the bathroom, perplexed with the fact that he apparently couldn't die, but could still catch something as trivial as a stomach bug. He hadn't been able to keep anything down for a sizable number of days, and he was just about fed up with it – But, he had bigger fish to fry at the moment. At the image of fish, he almost darted in the direction of bathroom.

Thunder rolled in the distance as Gabriel hisses, "No, Sam. I won't. I'm not letting your brother treat you like mine did," And then his gaze is laser-focused on Dean, arrested and condemning, "You're a hypocrite and a stupid bastard, that is so set on condemning others, you can't see just how fucked up you really are –"

"Now, Gabe!" Sam exclaims, and one of the beer bottles on the tables explodes in a shower of glass. He steps between them.

"I don't care that I am not strong enough to fight you, Gabriel," Dean vows. Sam's feels Gabriel's wings flutter in the air, a warning, "I will deep fry your wings –"At that instant the archangel snaps his fingers, freezing all time in the room.

Dean stops, shifting his head left and right in confusion. Sam is frozen in place, his hues wide in confusion, lips parted ever so slightly like he's about to say something. Gabriel narrows his eyes, turning to Dean, and at that moment the human and the archangel faced off.

"Dean," The archangel hisses, "Think about what you're doing, for one damn second. Remember what I showed you, remember what your brother went through – Remember what he will go through if he doesn't kill Lilith, now," He steps close, his grace expanding as his eyes glow," I didn't even show you everything. If you tell him the truth, everything you saw will happen – "

"Bullshit," The human hastened to say, "That's complete and utter bullshit, he's already gone this far! And if he knows what will happen, then he'll know what not to do."

Gabriel's face darkened like gathering storm clouds, and another roll of thunder sounded. "Wrong," He responded, "I guarantee you, if he knows the truth, then everything will come into fruition. Because then he'll try and prevent these events from coming into fruition, which will definitely only set them in stone. Somehow, I don't know if it'll be the angels, the demons, or some other supernatural piece of crap, but they will get him to break the final seal and set Lucifer free. Then it'll be a domino effect from there, everything that I've been trying to prevent will happen, Dean."

Dean gulps, his eyes avoiding the latter's gaze. Both ways there was a chance of it ending bad, ugly. And he knows it's true. The human doesn't let that truth doesn't faze him, because his acceptance of the truth is just another enemy to conquer. Either he blatantly lies to his brother, helps spin this web of lies these angels are constructing, to protect him from a future he doesn't even know exists. Or tell him the truth, allow him to decide where to go from there, but run the risk of the same events happening all over again.

"I am sorry, Dean," The archangel utters, the storm outside calming, "Now, we are both burdened with the knowledge of a future neither of us wants to happen."

"Alright, damn it. Alright," The human croaks, "I'll… I'll stay quiet, but not for you. For him, for my brother…" The angel accepts this, and snaps his fingers resuming the time.

Sam huffs and takes Gabriel's hand, dragging him out of the room before the fight could escalate any further. "Gabe, you can't expect me to just stand by when you can't even be in the same room as my brother without trying to throw down," He scolds, "What were you two even arguing about this time?"

"Nothing," The archangel mumbled, "He just gets under my skin, Sam."

"You need to try harder to get along with him," Sam demands as he holds the latter's hands, face scrunching, "Think about it like this – We are your garrison now, Gabe. Castiel, Dean, Crowley, and I, we need you to lead us…"

"Lead," Gabriel scoffs, "Sam, you think I can lead this rag-tag band of misfits? I'm nothing but a screw-up, a coward that skipped out on my family, a stupid, immature jack-ass that only thinks about himself – Tell me, does any of that indicate that I should lead us?"

The human smiles softly, squeezing the latter's hands, "We've all done something we regret, Gabe," He looks into the latter's eyes deeply, "And you are so much more than you think. You're cunning, ambitious, clever; all traits of a strong leader, you just have to try, Gabe," His look of thoughtfulness turns stern, "But you can't lead us if you keep acting like an immature jack-ass."

"Okay, okay," Gabriel answers, palms raised, "I get the memo. No more being an immature jack-ass. Be easier to get along with. Take charge. Et cetera…"

"I mean, you're an archangel, and a damn powerful one," Sam adds, throwing his arms in the air, "You are old as time itself. Act like it."

Hours later, everything had finally calmed down. Castiel has returned and was now talking to Gabriel softly in Enochian. Dean was in the kitchenette preparing some eggs and bacon for those that ate. He adamantly refused to let the archangel just conjure some food up, claiming it wouldn't be as good or genuine. Sam was researching to figure out potential next seals, splayed on his stomach on the couch with his laptop in front of him.

"Since Dean is so adamant about cooking, how about a quickie?" Gabriel whispers to Sam, breaking away from Castiel for a moment.

"It's pronounced quiche, you idiot."

"I said what I said." That earned the archangel a flick on the nose.

Raphael is near. They only know from the lightning storm, the lights flickering, plus Sam, Castiel, and Gabriel all look up at the same time in the same direction before they all look at each other in unison. Dean's not sure how Sam is in on that, but he doesn't like the implications, he turns off the stove. Sam slowly closes his laptop, moving to stand beside his brother.

"You invite him?" Gabriel manages to add in a jibe towards Cas anyway, but his tone reveals the nervousness. Sam puts a hand on his arm and the archangel relaxes, but he's got that jittery, my-dick-head-brother-is-going-to-try-and-smite-my-ass-look.

Castiel looks at him, perplexed and legitimately offended, not understanding that it was a pathetic attempt at a joke. "I would never do such a thing, brother," He sniffs, his stormy blue eyes darkening, "You should know better than to question my loyalty."

"Shut up, Cas," Dean mutters, "I'll explain it later. Is that the teenage mutant ninja angel Sam was telling me about?"

"Nice to know some things haven't changed," Sam's tone tries for lighthearted fun and fails when he shoots Dean a look, "We need to get out of here, now."

The older Winchester interjects, "I thought you withstood his smiting?"

"It was more of a love tap compared to what he's capable of," The younger Winchester admits with a gulp, "Besides, not everyone here can even take that much. Gabe, can you fly us out of here?"

"No, he's somehow blocking me," Gabriel turns to Castiel with a grin, "Looks like we're going to have to suffer through his company, little brother."

"Gabriel, Castiel, and the rest of you worms. I have a message from Heaven. I suggest you take it," Raphael's voice rumbles over them like a thundercloud, "Or one if you will. I will speak to Sam Winchester, and Sam Winchester alone or I will treat this island like a colony of ants under a spy glass."

Sam gulps, and says, "I'll do whatever you want."

"Is that a yes?" Raphael bellowed, the baritone of his voice reverberating through the room.

No one in the room moved a muscle. Sam could hear his own heartbeat; he could even hear Dean's shaking breaths. A muscle twitched involuntarily at the corner of his right eye, his mouth formed a rigid grimace. The hunter's eyes flickered across the room, each one of the occupant's individual orbs wide with varied emotions.

Sam swallows thickly, his emerald hues stone-cold hard as he says, "Yes."

It felt as if he had been struck by lightning; pain flared white hot, radiating out to his whole body. The pain is nearly indescribable; a solid, molten, churning core of fire of heat not unlike the core of the earth itself sitting at the very center of his body. From his core there is a continuous, pulsing, throbbing of pure unbridled agony.

"Sam, Sammy!" Then he felt himself being hauled back onto his knees, though he doesn't remember falling. The pain drove down for another attack, he blacked out. And he woke to darkness, lying flat on an empty, endless plane, sweat cascading down his shivering body in waves.

"Do not scream," A voice whispered in the distance.

Shivering, drawing in shuddering breaths, Sam lay still for several seconds, several minutes. His whole body felt like heavy ice. He tried to move his arm, tried to lift his hand. Nothing. He is so tired that lying still took every ounce of energy. The darkness surrounded everything. It ate up everything in its path.

"Where am I?" Sam croaks.

Raphael laughs coldly, "The deepest corner of your mind. Deep, deep, deep, down, where no one can eavesdrop on our conversation," He suddenly materializes in the azure darkness. His vessel was a stone-faced African American man, one with the posture and air of a man that had been living comfortably all of his life," I have been wanting to meet you, personally that is, for a long, long time, Sam Winchester."

"Can't say I feel the same way," Sam says warily, backing a few feet away.

The archangel smiles, the coldness spreading like a frigid wave to his eyes. "Sam," His voice takes on scolding tone, the kind a mother would take when reprimanding a naughty child, "We have never even meet, yet you already seem so cold and callous towards me? I take my young brother has been twisting and distorting my image to that of a monster in your eyes?"

"That," The human grits out, "And the fact you tried to deep fry me!"

Raphael inclined his head, smile being replaced with a smirk, "Surely you know that you're immortal by now. Power comes with a price, you of all people should know this," He tucks his hands in his vessel's pockets and states, "In reality, it was a warning shot. An intentionally harmless strike with intent to warn you of my quickly growing annoyance towards your activities of late with my brother."

"Most warning shots don't actually hit those being warned," The hunter points out, the annoyance evident in his voice, "Now, what do you want? Did you just show up to tell me you don't approve of my relationship with your brother?"

The archangel's face twisted into one of the utmost disgusts, "What my brother does with a worm he's taken an interest in, is no care of mine. Not when there are other matters at hand," Squinting his eyes, he disclosed, "No, the reason I wanted to meet with you is quite simple, really. What you are doing, trying to change something that has been in fruition since the beginnings of time, is foolish, plain and simple."

"Tell me, why do you want to free Lucifer?" Sam asks softly, "Did you not help cast him down on the first place? Why bring him back, after all he's done? What he will do?"

Raphael cocks his head to the side, and answers, "I thought the answer was the least bit obvious," His eyes narrow and his lips form a thin line as he confessed, "I lost faith in God and became weary of my father's duties, long ago. I believe that God is dead and that we are living in a God-less universe. I only bowed to you... y-you hairless apes because he told me too. Now that he is gone? Your existence does nothing to attribute to this universe, if anything it sullies it, so tell me, why should I care what my older brothers do to you?"

"What you think doesn't matter," The human barks, taking a step forward, "I won't let you release that monster! And if you think that I'll stop what I'm doing, and actually help you kick-start Armageddon…" He scoffs and shakes his head, "You are an imbecile."

"Your new-found power has made you bold," The archangel croons, "Tell me, Sam, you care so much for the human race… why are you leaving it behind? Do you even know what you're turning yourself into to gain enough power to kill the first demon? No ordinary monster; a cambion, but an unnatural one. Most are born of the flesh of a demon and a human, you had human parents, but when Azazel bleed into your mouth, he instilled you with an addiction to poison. A need to feed on his brothers and sisters! You are a monster that devours other monsters, taking in their power through the things that make them live; their blood, organs, flesh, and bone! Or you did at first, now you focus on the best part… their souls. The meatiest, headiest part that unlike the rest never leaves you reeling for another hit. No, this power stays…"

"…Shut up," Sam chokes out.

"Are you willing to sacrifice your natural human heritage for the filth and vermin that occupy this planet. You are a hunter, before you started to take in the poison, you saw it first hand," Raphael purrs, his lips in a sneer, "And now you've tasted it."

"Shut the fuck up!"

"Maybe, just maybe, you enjoy the poison a little too much. You like the feeling, right? The heady rush that comes with power," The archangel presses, closing in on the human, "After all, you are The Boy King, Azazel's prodigy… Maybe you're only preparing yourself for the role you are meant to take, perhaps the throne – After you kill Lilith that is."

"No," The human gasps, "No, you're lying!"

Raphael grins manically, "All hail the future king."

Sam's eyes flash open and he takes in a greedy gulp of air. His head splayed on Gabriel's lap, and they're both on the couch. Dean and Castiel are standing a few feet away, keeping a worried eye on both. The archangel is running soothing fingers through the human's long hair, his fingertips lit with grace. For a second, the youngest Winchester doesn't move, he just allows his companion to soothe away all his worry and pain with his angelic power.

"Hey," Sam says softly.

"Hey," Gabriel responds, his lips a smirk, "You managed to boot my asshole of a brother out of your head but caused some damage to your mind. Don't try any Vulcan mind-melds for a little while, and you should be fine. Ready to get up?"

The human sits up from the archangel's lap and grips the side of the couch. One of his hands goes to his forehead as he winces at a sudden, sharp pain in the center. He shakes his head and continues to stand, smiling weakly when he feels his brother's steadying hand on his shoulder.

"The worm you've become smitten to has developed quite the amount of power, brother. It is no small feat to force an archangel to vacate from their mind," Raphael's voice booms over their heads, "As much as it would delight me to see him become the very thing he sought to destroy, I must insist that all of you cease your interference at once."

"I don't take orders from you, ass-hat," Gabriel yells back, "And insult my little spoon again, you won't like the consequences!"

The older archangel's voice sounds annoyed as he growls, "That I doubt."

"Gabriel you cannot go toe-to-toe with Raphael," Castiel agrees, placing a hand on Gabriel's shoulder, "You will perish. And Sam is obviously the big sp-"

The younger archangel glares at the seraph and snarls, "Now would be a wonderful time for you to shut your trap, Cassie!"

"Billions of years of inciting swift and exact punishment on those below us, and you are now cavorting with humanity, littlest brother. Tell me, what changed?" Raphael questions, his voice stone-cold.

"Oh, shove it up that tight ass of your, Raph!" Gabriel barks back, throwing his hands in the air, "I know I used to be all, 'Gross, humans, they look like hairless monkeys, lets toy with them by turning their girlfriends into helicopters mid-sex.' Until I get my hands on this lanky one, and now I know that at least one is worth saving."

Sam rolls his eyes, but no one can miss the faint blush that goes up his cheeks," …Love you, too." It's barely a whisper, but he still sighs in relief when no one notices.

Castiel sighs, and turns to Dean, "It's true, he has changed his outlook on humans since he met this one. Your brother seems to affect him positively."

Dean rolled his eyes, and replies, "Whatever keeps him from trying to throw the planet in a deep-fryer."

Cas inclines his head to the side, "I don't understand…"

"Like I said, smitten," Raphael hisses, his tone is bitter.

"You sound jealous, Raph. Back off and find your own," Gabriel cut in with a quip, "He's not your type anyway. His ass is actually loose enough to fit something in it, and let me give you a hint – It isn't a stick but it rhymes –"

"Gabe."

Raphael sounds amused as he responds, "You may joke, little brother, but I can see right through you. You're afraid, terrified even, of losing this one human, though I don't know if he still qualifies as that," He laughs cold and sharp, "There are billions more that can take his place. Why him?"

"Say what you have to say and leave," Gabriel grits out.

"I'd prefer a face to face conversation. Alone with Sam Winchester," Raphael responds, "We weren't finished."

"You know, I don't care. Say your piece right here and now!" The younger archangel argues, "I'm not letting Sam anywhere near you alone again."

"What are you getting at, Raphael?" Sam asks, pacing. "Just… stop dragging this out and tell me what you want to say."

"Fine," The archangel growls, "As of late I have been in cohorts with the demon Lilith, for she is worried that you may actually be able to kill her before the other seals break. She serves her master well, so I am protecting her from you."

Sam's mouth is dry, and his heart is beating too fast, and he can feel how dilated his pupils have grown even though he can't see them. Gabriel stiffens beside him. Dean and Castiel have fallen silent, their banter cut short.

"No one among your group is strong enough to fight me nor my forces," Raphael states, "You are all now fighting for a lost cause. You cannot kill Lilith as long as she is under my watchful eye, and those of my angels. You may have won a few battles, but you have already lost the war."

"We won't stop – "Sam chokes out.

"See if I care," The archangel chuckles darkly, "I take great amusement in watching you stumble about, Sam Winchester. To think, you've turned yourself into a cambion, for no reason – You turned yourself into a monster and guzzled down the very thing you've claimed to fight your whole life for nothing. It's better than any other torture I've seen a human endure."

Without skipping a beat, Sam runs into the bathroom and empties his stomach. He heaves and heaves, tears stinging in his eyes. He can distantly hear the continued yelling between the two archangels. Dean and Castiel enter the bathroom, the human keeping a comforting hand on his back, the angel standing off the side protectively. The younger Winchester flushes the toilet and lays his head against the side of the cabinet.

"Oh, God," He chokes out, his hand gravitating towards his aching abdomen, "No, it can't be over, not just like that… Not after everything." Monster; he was a monster. One that consumed others like a black hole, one far worse than any he'd ever put to rest, but before it didn't matter. There was a reason, a selfless reason – Saving the goddamn world! Now?

"It's not, we can find a way," Dean hastens to say, "We always find a way, Sammy."

Gabriel enters the bathroom, his face red and his lips parted, "Sam," He quickly leans beside him, summoning a glass of water into his palm, "Your brother is right, we'll find a way. Raphael may say that this is the end for us, but… Someone once told me that if you don't like an ending, you just have to change it."

Sam sips at the water, before pressing a kiss into the corner of the archangel's mouth, "That's the cheesiest thing I've ever heard," He shakes his head, "But I can tell you're trying."

"I am," Gabriel admits, running his hand down Sam's face, "Immortal or not, I guess you can still get sick. Maybe I should check you out?"

"No," The human replies, "I'm fine. I've just had a bug for a little while now. Besides, if I'm being honest, I need a distraction, especially now."

The archangel nods in understanding, running his thumb down the human's jawline. "Alright, well we've got a lot to think about, Sam," He sighs, rubbing the curve three times in succession, "Failure isn't an option, so I guess for now we have to just play defense. Try and protect as many seals as possible until we can find a way to get close to Lilith."

"You're taking this leadership role pretty seriously," Sam comments, taking another sip of water, "Maybe I should let you check me out? In the bedroom…"

"Aw, look at you trying to sweet talk to me," Gabriel beams, pressing a kiss to Sam's exposed neck, tenderly biting at it, "It's kind of a turn-off because you're very, very bad at it, but I commend your effort."

September 25, 2008

After their brief exchange, Gabriel is turned off, and doesn't know if he'll ever be able to find Sam Winchester sexually attractive again; he was not all that good at sweet talking. Sam sighs dejectedly, despite the mystery illness he stubbornly refuses to let anyone treat, he is still goddamned horny, but unlike Gabriel he isn't particularly good at expressing that. When darkness falls again, he tries to convince his companion to take him to bed, on the verge of just pleasuring himself if he didn't get relief.

Gabriel sighed, folding his arms behind his head, "I'm tired, maybe tomorrow night."

"Gabe," Sam grits out, "You're an immortal being of astronomical strength, you don't get fucking tired – Were you that turned off by my attempt at sweet talking you? Come on, I'll do anything if you'll just…" His puts up a finger, and raised one eyebrow as the latter smirks mischievously, "Not that."

"Come on," The archangel purrs, biting at his lip as his hands land on the cambion's hips.

Sam smacked off his hands with an annoyed huff, saying, "We need to leave," And after a brief mental tussle with himself, he adds, "Take us to Bobby's, once everyone is back. It's about time all potential players were filled in."

Gabriel obeys, then flies them all back to Bobby's house. Bobby Singer shoots an archangel and a seraph with rock salt, and then tries to stab them with a kitchen knife, not exactly in the know. When Gabriel did the same thing, he did to Dean to Bobby, the older man awoke a few minutes later, only to take a swig of cheap whiskey and grunt out an "idjits" before ordering the younger Winchester to sit down and tell personally explain to him what the hell the plan was. Sam did so, explaining what he'd done, choosing to skip out on the fact his "partnership" with the archangel went a wee bit deeper - Bobby was no idiot, and agreed with Dean that he sure knew how to pick 'em.

"So, let me make sure I'm clear on all of this," Bobby starts in after everyone has settled down, his voice gruff as always, although a bit more uncontrolled, "You unintentionally broke the first seal that will eventually start fuckin' Armageddon, and got rescued from Hell by an angel wearing a dirty trench coat. The trickster, who is apparently the archangel Gabriel, decides he wants to put off the end of the world because he's fallen head-over-feels for Sam. And Sam is now a creature called a cambion, that is part-demon, and has the power to take in the powers of other black-eyed bastards and other powerful beings. Am I following this correctly?"

Sam nods, Gabriel crouched by his feet, hand twined in his. Dean keeps pacing, unable to stay still. Castiel seems lost in the situation, choosing to hover over Gabriel's side protectively, keeping his eyes to the floor. Bobby is incredibly quiet after that. The younger Winchester looks down, unable to hold Bobby's gaze. There's an exceedingly long pause.

The seasoned hunter takes another drink, and breaks the silence, "What else have I got to lose?"

It wouldn't be until later, while Sam is meeting with Crowley, that Bobby is filled on everything else. About Gabriel and Dean's personal mission to ensure the future that they both saw would never happen, no matter the cost to either of them. The old man shook his hand, muttering about how the two brothers would never stop trying to lasso the moon for one another. But he didn't argue further, he just said one last thing.

"So, you two are really doing this," Bobby starts, taking a heavy seat on the couch, "You're really hiding something this big from him?"

"Of course, we have to, Bobby. It's Sam. It's always about Sam," Dean adds in, equally incredulous as he continues pacing, "With all the shit that's going down, I don't have much of a choice – And I mean, I don't know what goes through my brother's head. Romancing a halo-head, never thought I'd see the day-"

Gabriel raises a hand, and snarks, "I'm right here, hairless-ape."

"When Sam does find out, and he will, he'll never be able to trust either of you again," Bobby murmurs softly," Trust is a fragile thing. Easy to break, easy to lose and one of the damned hardest things to ever get back."

"At least he won't have to see, what I've seen," Dean states firmly, finally coming to a complete stop.

Seeing the two's resoluteness over the matter, Bobby changes the subject. "I take it you intend to stick with Sam, which means you intend to stay here," The old hunter asks a bit stiffly to Gabriel, "I've got a spare room- "

"I go where Sam goes," Gabriel answers and shrugs, "But, I think the two of us can find our own place. In fact, I've got somewhere in mind – Holy shit."

The door opens, and Sam steps in with a maniac grin on his face, his eyes flicking back and forth throughout the room. Curled protectively in his arms is an especially small corgi with big brown orbs that glances curiously around the room. It perks it's head up, tongue slipping out as he glances around the room with curiosity. The cambion flushes in embarrassment, and mutters, "I think I just stole the King of the Crossroad's dog."

Sam Winchester glanced around the room. Test tubes, beakers, glass jars with strange creatures floating inside. Tiny bottles laid out in neat rows beside the microscope. A refrigerator marked with hazard stickers. The larger tubes that had dead, partly dissected creatures inside. And all around him, bits of machines, motors, steel scrap and tools that he didn't recognize.

A wave of nausea struck Sam. Grimacing, he went to the back wall farthest from the experiments and sat down on examination table, sinking down as he leaned against the rough brick behind him. He leaned further back, head up, refusing to move when he heard the door open. Cecily, Crowley's associate waltzes in with a pearly white smile. In the distance the sound of the club's music can still be heard as the door slowly closes behind her.

"Well, Sam, I didn't think I'd be seeing you again anytime soon," Cecily purrs, hopping up in the table with him, "I bet a fortune on the dead-pool that you'd be a roasted mass of flannel, after you pissed those halos up there off. A lot of demons were looking forward to roasting marshmallows over your corpse."

"Charming," Sam snorts, the she-demon's presence starting to ease away his discomfort, "So, when did demons get their own club-house?"

The she-demon hummed softly, curling a strand of hair in her finger, "Well with the apocalypse looming ahead, Crowley saw a business opportunity. Even demons would rather burn out than fade away," She sighs and allows the strand of hair she was messing with to fall from her hand, "A respectable number of the demon population is on a need-to-know basis at the moment. Those closest to Lilith are the only ones that know about the world's impending doom, but the common demons… they're not complete idiots. They know something is going down, so they come here to eat, drink, fuck… A way to escape from reality."

"I can understand that," The hunter replies softly, "More than one would think."

Cecily nods and began to clear her workstation, moving away previous experiments, putting bottles on shelves, and spreading out new test tubes. She tested a pen and began writing labels. "So, the big honcho in heaven says you're a cambion, huh? Nice," She smiles and scribbles something down, "Crowley called you here because he's managed to root out a couple of demons no one down stairs would notice went missing. Which means… Dinner is served big boy. And this buffet has everything from the average demon, to a few ornery old-timers, so when Crowley gets out of his meeting you can dig in!"

Cecily exited the room, her heels clicking down the hall as the door slowly closed. Just as it was about to close all the way, a skittering of nails across the tiles resounded and a blur of fur and limbs shot into the room. Sam jumped, letting out a relieved chuckle as he laid eyes on the intruder. A runt-sized corgi with eyes that were the type of brown that reminded him of a sweet chocolate. His fur is almost entirely fawn colored except for his white belly and little matching paws that look like he's wearing wee dog-sized booties.

Sam grins ear-to-ear, glancing about the room curiously to see whether an owner would emerge. After a moment, he hopped off the table and offered his hand for the dog to sniff. The corgi edged forward cautiously and sniffed, before yipping excitedly and hopping into the younger Winchester's arms. He licked and nibbled at the hunter's face, not stopping even when he's breathless with laughter and red faced. He curls his long arms around the mass of fur, holding him close and tight.

"Jeez, pfft, stop – Oh my gosh, stop," Sam is still laughing louder and longer than he has in literal years, "Down boy – Pffft…" Needless to say, later the corgi was gently set in the passenger seat of the Impala with a pat on its head.

"So," Dean presses his lips together, "You just stole that asshole's mutt? Didn't even think twice, huh?"

Sam shrugs, scratching behind the corgi's pointy ears, laughing when the dog yips happily in response. It rolls over in the gargantuan man's arms, little legs kicking in the air as he swipes his tongue over his new owner's hand. Dean raised a brow, looking to Gabriel and Bobby for help. Both shrugged simultaneously, neither wanting to be the stupid soul that would try and pry the dog from the youngest Winchester's arms.

Castiel suddenly appeared, the sound of ruffling feathers behind him. His blue gaze immediately settles on the dog, and he frowned deeply, "How odd," He turns to the archangel, "I didn't realize Argos still remained on Earth."

"Argos, like the dog from The Odyssey?" Sam questions, eyes widening as he looks down at the seemingly normal dog rolling about in his arms, "Odysseus's faithful dog?"

"The same," Castiel confirms, leaning over and giving the corgi a brief pat, "It was said when his master, Odysseus, returned home after nearly twenty years, Argos recognizes him, rejoices, and dies. This is not true, however, for his loyalty he was gifted with the grace of being reborn. Returning every thousand years or so to stay by another's side until the end, at which point he too shall die and choose another."

"Wait," Sam utters, his pets halting, "So, he chose Crowley?"

"No," Castiel responds, sounding bemused, "It seems he's chosen you, Sam. Argos only chooses those with the fiercest need for companionship in a time of war to spend his life with. You should feel extremely honored and repay him by caring for him as well."

Argos barks and licks Sam's hand again. I'm a corgi, which is a British bread. Or is it breed?

"He talked!" Sam gasps out, almost dropping the dog in surprise, "Did no one else hear that? He talked – Like actually said – "

The seraph nods, and explains, "You can communicate with each other, Sam. From this point forward, you two will share a profound bond until death parts you," He pats the dog's head again, "He will be a good companion to have in the fight against Lilith, for he has many gifts no ordinary dog holds and will never leave your side. I am glad you found him."

"Me too," Sam grins, rubbing Argo's belly, laughing as he licked his feet in appreciation.

"I've been replaced with a flea-bitten mutt," Gabriel huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Sounds like an upgrade," Dean snorts, speaking for the first time in a while. So many weird things had gone down since his return from downstairs, so he honestly wasn't as surprised when an ancient dog named Argos chose his brother as his master.

Argos barks. You have odd companions.

"I do," The cambion agrees, "But you'll get used to them."

The corgi barks again, wagging his tail. I shall try, for you, Sam.

"Thanks."

All eyes in the room fell on Sam as he continued carrying on a conversation with a dog, that only he could understand. Gabriel rolled his eyes, muttering angrily under his breath as he dragged Castiel away, so they could gather weapons they needed. Dean laughed, and smiled ever-so-slightly, remembering a smaller, much more innocent Sam begging for a puppy. He patted his brother on the shoulder and left the room to grab a beer and catch up with Bobby.

September 26, 2008

The cabin hunkered low on the moor like a child in the elements trying to keep warm. Yet it looked alive and welcoming with a thin silver trail curling from the crooked stone chimney. The sides were the same grey slabs as the low walls in the dales and the roof was a darker slate. Without a thought to what lay inside Sam tucked his chins to his chest and strode right to it against the wind and driving snow. Argos trembled in his arms, the snow landing on his thick fur, blanketing him in a thick layer of white.

"Why are we here?" Sam asks as his teeth chatter, nearly ripping open the door. He eagerly enters the large cabin, stamping the snow off his feet as he slams the door behind him. Argos hops down from his arms and shakes himself off, letting out aggravated huffs as he did so. The corgi sent a menacing glare to the archangel that had dragged them out in the freezing cold town of Telluride, Colorado.

"Well, it usually doesn't snow here until late-October, but I pulled some celestial strings to make it snow," Gabriel announces with a grin, feeling up the walls the find a light switch, "I thought it'd make this moment for magical."

Argos let out a low growl. Your man-toy is an imbecile.

Sam shakes his head and scoops the corgi into his arms. "Gabe, what are we doing here – "He blinks and the lights flash on, revealing the inside of the massive cabin. Suddenly the warmth hits the cambion, kindly welcoming him in with the sound of crackling wood and the smell of comfort from the stone chimneyed fire place central of the room everything in the room. He eyes the set of stairs that is on either side of the room, leading to an unseen upstairs.

"Ready for the tour?" Gabriel asks with a grin.

"What is it?" Sam questions softly, already sure of the answer.

"Our house."

"Our...house?"

"Yeah," The archangel's grin falters for a second as he utters, "I thought it'd be cool to have our own place, so we wouldn't have to share a house with anyone else. Plus, it's heavily warded with plenty of enchantments I set myself. I mean, the refrigerator has a spell on it so it's always stocked with essentials – "His words are swallowed by Sam's lips, and he quickly yanks the older man down to pull him closer.

Argos barks, and makes a quick escape from Sam's arms. These two go at it more than rabbits. Now, where's the kitchen?

He trots to another room just in time. Soon clothes are pulled from muscular bodies with force, buttons fly across the room, and the youngest Winchester's underwear are ripped from his body. The corgi can still hear them, however, and whimpers laying on the floor as his ears flatten.

He barks again. I need to find some dog adequate ear-plugs.

October 31, 2008

Samhain curls his lips back into a snarl as he pushes one hand forward, a blast of white light emitting from his palm. Sam Winchester walks through it easily, not even batting an eye. The special-demon's eyes are no longer what they used to be, but he can still see the blur of a living being approaching. His eyes widened, and his snarl becomes a tight-lipped frown.

"Yeah," Sam acknowledges, with an enigmatic smile, "That demon-ray-gun stuff doesn't work on me."

Samhain charges like a wounded bull, his sight set on the blurry figure that was intruding upon the festivities of his night. Sam's lips quirked, and he lifted his hands. He made a flicking motion with his fingers and sent the special-demon crashing through the mausoleum's many tombs. Walking over to the shattered, jagged wood and porcelain, he grinned down at the demon.

The cambion pushed his palm towards the demon, before abruptly thrusting it into the air, the demon with it. Samhain snarled and writhed in mid-air, strings of saliva dribbling down to the floor below. Sam made a face disgust as he shook his head and turned his palm into a fist. The special-demon gagged violently, heaving as a thick, black cloud sparking with power and hate began emerging from his trembling lips.

Sam brings his open palm to his mouth, the azure mass swirling into his mouth at physical command. For a brief second, his eyes turned into dull, pale blue hues of Samhain, but he quickly tightened the reigns. He cocked his head to side, letting out a pained grunt, and took a shaking breath as his skeleton flashed violently, signaling that the demon was dead, and his power had been absorbed into his meatsuit. He gasps lightly as he feels a pair of eyes upon him: Dean.

Dean Winchester stands at the entrance, his emerald hues cold as stone, his lips a fine line. The older Winchester had never seen his brother fully use his power before, and in truth, it was one of the scariest damn things he'd ever seen in his life. That brief second, when it looked like Sam had lost control to the very demon he'd consumed – Dean shook his head, trying to banish the thought from his mind. He gulped heavily, and walked towards his brother, offering him a hand up.

Sam looked down, he hadn't even realized he'd slouched to the floor. He shakily took his brother's hand, gripping tight as he was hauled back up onto his feet. Dean states his shoulder, his eyes softening at the sight of his younger brother. He would never be able to accept what his brother had become, at least not fully, but he constantly reminded himself it was better than the alternative. Sam seemed relieved, letting out a shaking breath, before relaxing into the touch.

Argos trotted into the scene, causally chewing on a decaying bone in his maw. He stopped in front of Sam, dropping his prize at his master's feet. He looked up expectantly, cocking his head to side, before barking. Your dim-witted brother left me to my own devices, but I managed to take out a good majority of the zombies. Walking chew-toys if you ask me.

Dean frowned, pointing at the bone, "Is that – "

"Yeah," Sam answered with a sigh, "He's probably just a little hungry. On the way back, we can stop by a diner or something to grab him some waffles. I'm worried that he hasn't been eating enough lately."

"That's sick. That's a human bone," The older Winchester criticized, shaking his head, "I'm telling you, give me five minutes and a rolled-up newspaper!"

Argos barked. I do enjoy waffles. And if anyone needs a swat on the nose with a newspaper it's your moron-of-a-brother.

"I know," The younger Winchester concurred with a nod, "If he doesn't stop pestering you, I'll make Gabe turn him into a squirrel. He's always in the mood to distribute just desserts – "

Dean snorted, opening the driver's side door and taking a heavy seat. "Whoa," He exclaims, seeing his younger brother about to enter his car with the dog in tow, "There is no way that fluff-ball is riding in here again. Look, he got fur all over the seats, and, shit, it stinks!"

Sam scowls, stopping in front of his side, and replies, "Well what am I supposed to do? Strap him to the roof," He sits on the passenger side, and pats his lap invitingly. The dog wags his tail and jumps onto his owner's lap, "Look, he'll just stay on my lap."

Dean points at the dog, leaning close into its face, "You should give some thought on what'll happen if you do anything to mess up Baby. Three words. Rolled. Up. Newspaper."

Argos barks. And you should give some thought to purchasing some non-bunching panties.

The corgi yawns, stretching out on his master's lap. The dog laid its head on the cambion's abdomen, nuzzling into the warmth emitting from his toned body. Sam rubs Argos' ears absent mindedly, letting out a contented sigh when they flattened signaling, he'd relaxed. Dean watched the whole scene with a raised brow, he'd never understand his brother's soft-side towards animals.

"We still stopping for waffles?" Dean asks.

Argos eyes shoot open, and he yawns again. Waffles?

Still tired, Dean Winchester blinked slowly, not knowing how long he'd slept. As he pushed himself up, leaning on his arm and pushing the blanket around his waist, he groaned and shook his head once to clear it. His whole body felt sore as if he'd hunted for days without rest. His hands were too stiff to flex properly, and bandages covered his right arm and shoulder, making it hard to move. He turned to the clock on his bedside table and growled in agitation. 1:23 AM Glared at him blinking red numbers.

Dizzy. He grabbed the edge of the mattress and closed his eyes as the world tilted. He felt like the floor would tip so much he'd fall, but as he leaned too far to compensate, he managed to balance himself. An all too familiar feeling twinges in his bladder and he stood.

"Gotta piss," He muttered as he attempted to make his way down the hall. The second he exited his doorway, a coppery, bitter scent hit his nostrils and he cringed," Fuck, jeez, what the hell….?"

A single set of muddied of footprints littered the wooden floor leading down the hall, smears of blood running up and down the hall. At the very end of the hall, the restroom, he heard water running. The hunter pulled out his handgun from the waistband of his pajama bottoms, cautiously making his way the bathroom. The doorknob had a smear of blood that ran down to the door's frame.

Dean slowly opened the door, the sound of running water blasting in his ears. White light cascaded into his vision, and the entire room was a mess of mud and blood. Muddy footprints smeared the blue tile floor, rubbing off onto the shower mat, and the sink had bloody handprints all over its edges and the mirror had five long lines of crimson running down it.

"Cas-?" Dean snarled in surprise, shoving his gun back into his pajama bottoms, "What the hell are you doing taking a shower, fully clothed, in the middle of the night?! And what the hell happened in the hallway-You're cleaning that up, feathers!"

Castiel has his head back, his eyes thoughtfully closed as water splashed over his grime covered face. His trench coat was nearly dyed crimson with all of the blood covering him, smears of mud and muck up and down his shirt and pants. The angel opened one eye, regarding the human thoughtfully, before closing it once more and turning off the shower.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel replied, his grave voice hinting at annoyance, "I came to speak to you and Bobby but found it necessary to rinse off first, given my current state. There is much to speak of, but first I require a towel- "

"Woah, okay, I'm going to grab you a spare pair of clothes and a towel, then we can talk," Dean snorts eyeing the still filthy angel with distaste, "Angels." He tossed a towel into his friend's face, ignoring the surprised 'mmph' as the angel staggered backward.

Holding the towel, Castiel states, "Just know, Dean, what we are about to discuss…Sam is not to know of."

November 1, 2008

Sam decided he was willing to try more in bed with Gabriel. Or to try to try. In truth, he'd been in the oddest place lately – Sexually, anyway. One minute he was ready to pounce his partner like a cat, next he was tempted to get a squirt bottle to try and shoo him away. Tonight, he decided to compromise and open the door for his partner, technically his legs.

"Relax," Gabriel whispered, dropping a kiss on Sam's bent knee, "Just relax. You're never this tense, usually so eager – Are you not up for it?"

They kissed long and wet, and Sam very deliberately forced himself to relax, to pay attention to how Gabriel's body felt next to his own. Besides, there would be a lot more kissing before they got the actual sex part. And as the archangel bent closer, drawing the cambion into his arms again, he was reminded just how much he liked that part.

Then just like that, the vision hit him fast, unmerciful, leaving him fighting pain and angst. He cries out grabbing his head and feels the weight of the latter's body leave him. He feels hands touching his face, slapping at his cheeks to get him to open his eyes. But he cannot see, not beyond the vision engulfing him.

The knife blossomed in his vision and red substance of fresh claret splattered onto the wooden floor below. For a second Sam felt as if he was the one that was stabbed, and he shut his eyes against the pain that ripped through his body. Whimpering, he curled up in a little ball, ignoring the hands that now shook him frantically. His name is being called in the distance, "Sam!" Black begins to push into the corners of his vision as he sees the face of Meg Master's latest meatsuit of the month.

She smiles, teeth pearly white as she brings up the knife again, "Usually I wouldn't even bother getting my hands dirty, but… Lilith knows your master is a rat, and she wanted to see you suffer, oh, so bad!"

"Please," Cecily cries, blood bubbling past her lips, "I don't know where the bastard ran off to! If I knew, I'd tell you, I swear! He left me for dead!"

"Oh, I want to believe you," Meg purrs, tracing the knife down her cheek, "But, I can't take chances… Sorry, not sorry."

With that Sam takes a gasping breath as the black overtakes his vision completely. His body goes limp and he falls into someone's arms, completely relaxing against their body. Gabriel places two fingers against Sam's forehead, letting out a relived sigh when he sees nothing is wrong with him physically. The vision just wore him out, he was going to be fine, but the archangel still needed to inform the rest of their group. He quickly teleported them to Bobby's house.

"What happened?" Bobby asks, placing a cold, moist cloth on Sam's head.

Dean sat beside his brother, taking his hand in his. He looks up, his gaze cold as he repeats, "What happened?"

"Me and Sam… we were about to," Gabriel makes a quick motion with his hands, "When he started going all glitchy and then he suddenly passed out."

"About to..." Castiel echoes Gabriel's words, brow creased in that frown that says he doesn't have the first clue what the archangel is on about.

Gabriel shakes his head, and he groans as he makes the motion again, "About to– We were about to have sex."

The seraph's eyes widen for a moment, fixing on the latter—and come on, like he didn't know, with all the times he's dropped in on them inappropriately. Gabriel shudders at the very thought of all the interrupted sessions. Dean shuts his mouth, opens it again, then shuts it again. He doesn't even know what to say to that.

Finally, Dean utters, "First things, gross."

Argos barks in agreement. At least you don't have to listen to them.

"Second things, it sounds like he was having a vision," The older Winchester shakes his head and asserts, "He hasn't had one of those since Azazel's death. Do you think his new mojo is bringing them back?"

"A likely cause," Castiel confirms with a nod, "Perhaps he'll enlighten us when he wakes –"Sam sits up abruptly with a choking gasp, making the human's in the room jolt. The two angels don't even blink. "…Up."

"Sammy, what happened? You okay?" Dean's voice was clouded with worry.

"I'm… I'm fine," Sam mumbled, but to his chagrin found that his trembling voice did shit to convince his brother that he everything was just peachy.

"You look like shit," The older Winchester comments, "You better stay down for a little while."

Argos barks, wagging his tail as he licks Sam's face. That's two things we've agreed on today.

Feeling too weak to object he did as his older brother told him. "I had a vision."

"We figured that much," Gabriel interjects, "What'd you see?"

The cambion takes a deep breath and explains," Lilith, she knows that Crowley is a rat, and tried to kill him, but he somehow got away. Meg captured Cecily and is torturing her for information on where Crowley ran off to."

The archangel clasped his wrist in the opposite hand and growls," Meg? The same black-eyed bitch that made you look like you just faced some deadites?"

"The same," Sam answers, not even bothering to hide the contempt in his voice, "That's why we're going to summon her here and interrogate her about Lilith. She is our only lead so far and may be the only chance we have at ever finding where Raphael has Lilith hidden."

Gabriel grinned and replies, "You had me at interrogate."

"Wait," Castiel interjects with a frown, "What about Crowley? He knows much about our plans, so we can't risk him being captured by angels nor demons."

"Cas is right," Dean agrees, "Maybe we should divide and conquer?"

Argos rolled his chocolate-brown hues before barking. No one asked you.

"You know, Dean, I think that's a wonderful idea," Gabriel interjects.

"That should disturb me," Dean mutters.

"Cas, Dean, and Bobby will go on a hunt for Crowley," Gabriel starts pointing at the three, "While, Sam, Argos, and I capture and interrogate Meg, so we can find Lilith's whereabouts. Then we regroup and take down that white-eyed bitch."

"What about Raphael?" Castiel questions.

Gabriel winks and adds, "It's not like I haven't trapped and mocked Raphael before."

That night Sam lays his head down to sleep, Argos curled into his side with his wet nose pressed against his abdomen. The cambion had noticed he'd been getting a little softer down there, but he didn't think much about it, quickly attributing it to the fact he'd been eating more lately. The corgi snuffled into his thin t-shirt, and he patted his head, rubbing behind his ears. Gabriel and Castiel were at Bobby's house, assisting the old man in setting up the spell to locate Crowley, so Sam was left alone in the cabin.

After several hours, he finally starts to drift into an uneasy sleep.

"But you're wrong," Sam feels Jess stiffen and it almost tears his heart apart, but he keeps going, "People can change. There is reason for hope." If only Sam really believed that, could really endorse what he was selling. But he had to. He had to believe. He had to make himself believe or all of this was going to be so much harder. He hopes it is enough.

"No, Sam," Jess's voice is precise, and her hand is heavy on his shoulder, possessive, yet deceptively light, "There isn't."

"How can you be so sure?" He hears himself answer.

"Because you freed me," Lucifer breaks the news gently, as if the moment wasn't sudden enough, hand pressing tighter around his shoulder, one small intended comfort still gone horribly awry, "That's right. You know who I am."

"Lucifer," Sam answers. Sam sits up with a gasp, startling Argos who jumps up with a yelp. The corgi calms down after a moment, pawing at his master's chest to try and see what's the matter. The cambion takes a shaking breath and pats the dog on the head.

"I'm fine, Argos," Sam says softly, "I just had a bad dream. I-I can't even remember most of it now."

Argos barks. What can you remember?

The cambion whispers, "Someone touching me with hands cold as ice. But I know who they are, I know," He shakes his head and continues, "I know whomever it is, better than I know anyone else. And them me."

Gabriel is slouched over on Bobby's couch, a giant stack of papers on his lap. He's combing through them, and he's on the last few pages. The front reads: Supernatural: It's the Great Pumpkin Sam Winchester! The author is Chuck Shurley.

"What are you reading?" Dean asks through a long yawn.

"Nothing, a friend of mine, he's an aspiring author that lets me read over his manuscripts. He just finished this one the other night," Gabriel replies, flipping over another page, "He's not particularly good at writing, but I'll never tell him that. He'd probably kill me, if I did."

He continues reading. 'Unbeknownst to anyone else in the band of misfits, Sam Winchester was lying in Gabriel's secluded love cabin dreaming of this other future. The future where the archangel Gabriel had never intervened to help stop the apocalypse; the future that the cambion had no idea existed. That night, he dreamt of another archangel, one that also touched him in ways that –'

The archangel dropped the page, not even wanting to hear the end of that sentence. Besides, it didn't even matter, that future was no more; it would never happen. All that mattered was the present, what was happening there and now. The apocalypse would never happen; Sam would keep his soul, his sanity, and his life. And in truth, that was all that mattered to Gabriel.

November 2, 2008

Gabriel struck the match, the flame dancing in his champagne hues, before he throws it into the glimmering bronze bowl at his feet. He casts his gaze down to the heptagram devil's trap Sam hand painted on their cabin's wooden floor, sticking his hands rather aggressively into his pockets.

"This is a terrible plan. In fact – it's the worst plan you've ever conjured up," The archangel claims, "And looking back at all of the dumb shit you've done, that's saying a hell of a lot."

"If you've got a better one, I'm all ears," Sam replied, glaring at his companion's back, hoping that his incredibly foolish plan wouldn't go sideways.

The angel exhaled, the tension falling listlessly from his shoulders as he rolled his eyes; he got bored quickly. Gabriel rummages through his pocket before seemingly producing a lollipop the size of his head, which according to all known logic shouldn't be possible. After just a couple of half-hearted licks he huffs and throws it behind his head, a loud shatter resounding as the sugary sweet meets its end on the head floor. Sam sighs, shooting a bitch-face at his companion.

Gabriel says, "What's taking that bitch so long? What else does she have to do – it's not like demons have lives outside of getting summoned and being black-eyed crotch goblins."

"You wound me, fun-size. I mean I'm not that bad, in fact, I think I've been making a real effort to change," The voice was dripping with sarcasm, one could practically tell the owner was a cold-ass bitch. It made the archangel clench his fists at his side and his jaw tighten. He fixed a menacing glare on Meg who smiled sweetly at him, and said," I don't think we've exchanged pleasantries before. Have we, handsome?"

Sam frowned deeply and cleared his throat. The demon turned to him, her smile widening as she laughs softly in amusement. "Meg," The cambion spat, "It hasn't been near long enough."

"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy," Meg purrs, licking her lips as she edges as close as the devil's trap will allow her," Back from the dead again? You and that brother of yours are like a couple of cockroaches, aren't you? No matter how many times someone stomps on you two, you won't stay down, at least not for long."

Gabriel makes an irritated noise in the back of his throat, and interjects," Listen bitch – "

"As much as it may seem like it to me, personally, I feel desperately compelled to remind you that we are in fact not in prison," The demon motions to the room around her, twisting her lips into a half-smile as she growls," And I am just so not your bitch!"

The archangel snorted, his eyes flashing a dangerous bluish-white, and he states, "I beg to differ, sweetheart."

Sam rolls his eyes and places a hand on Gabriel's shoulder; the archangel's eyes dulled to their normal champagne hue as he takes a deep breath. The cambion takes his own breath, and tries to reason with the demon, "Look, Meg, you and I have been in pretty close quarters before, so I know you're willing to do just about anything to save your own skin – "

"Close quarters are one word for it. I remember taking the wheel in your meatsuit," She taps her forehead, voice dropping to a whisper as she turns to archangel, "And I'll tell you what, Sammy's one hell of a ride."

Gabriel's eyes flashed again, and the room begins to darken as humidity begins to steadily build-up. Sam swears-to-God he can hear thunder rolling in the distance, and Meg seemed to notice this, too, for she quickly shuts her mouth. Not even a demon, or a "black-eyed crotch goblin" was willing to mouth off to an angel, much less an archangel; the most fearsome of Heaven's weapons.

"Taunting me?" The archangel snarls, his voice chillingly low as he inclines his head to the side. Lightning came like a rip in the inky night, lighting up the room for a split second; the archangel's wings are azure shadows on the wall," Oh, just not smart. Even for you.'

Sam can't choke back his own surprised gasp. He hadn't seen his companion's wings since that fateful night in July, the night the archangel had warned him of the impending apocalypse and had started him on the path to become the very monster he seeked to destroy. It had only been a few months, yet it felt like an entire lifetime ago. In a way it was because his life as human, any chance at ever being normal, died in that very instant. When he'd practically begged, "Can you show me another way?"

The cambion swallowed thickly, and continued trying to bait the demon," Meg, why do you seek to free a being that only seeks to destroy all of us? He will wipe out every speck of life on this planet, and he's not going to stop will humans. No, as soon as he's done with us – You're next on the menu."

Meg narrows her eyes dangerously, pacing the rim of the devil's trap as she contended, "You have no idea what you're talking about, Sammy. We are his children, his spawn that will spread across this little blue planet and devour it whole," She throws her head back and laughs, "And what's this 'we'? You keep referring to yourself and the meat sacks as if you're one and the same. Hell, as far as I'm concerned, you're batting for our team now. I wonder when you'll get your own set of beady, black eyes…"

"You're right," Sam admits softly, "I'm not one of them. I'm not human, anymore, but I'm not going to just let them be wiped out like ants under a magnifying glass! Not when I can do something! When I can prevent it! I-It's not in me."

The she-demon pushes, "And if you fail?"

"I won't," The cambion's voice is firm as he vows this, and continues, "Look we need – "

"Well, you definitely need something. Um, maybe a backbone, or perhaps some testicles, seeing as you won't take a couple steps away from your halo-head buddy – "Before the demon could finish her sentence, the archangel entered the devil's trap, and hoisted her into the air by her throat.

"I think we're both done even trying to ask," Gabriel snarls," The clock is ticking, and we need to know where that white-eyed bitch is, so Sam, do your thing."

Sam nods and steps into the devil's trap, thrusting his closed fist into the air as he closes his eyes and furrows his eyebrows in concentration. Meg's whole body jerked up as black smoke plumed from her mouth, shooting up into the air. It raced towards the cambion's gaping mouth. He snapped his head back as the smoke forced its way down his throat. Both of their bodies sagged lifelessly, but Sam's fell into Gabriel's waiting arms, his head lolling over the latter's shoulder.

Sam blinks. He's sitting in the impala, riding shotgun per usual, but instead of hearing his brother drum his hands on the steering wheel, or some well over-played music blasting, it's dead silent. The cambion looks around the car; it appears to be the same car he's been riding in his entire life, but he knows it's not because this one is different. The car he was raised in felt like the one permanent home Dean and himself could ever have, but the car he sat in at that very moment felt cold, desolate, like a bird's nest in winter.

The headlights were on, the engine was purring idly, and Sam swears he can feel the car moving down a road he cannot see. No one is at the wheel, and the headlights illuminate nothing, for even outside of the windows there is nothing to be seen. He'd seen darkness before, the kind that makes desolate woods like an old-fashioned photograph, everything a shade of grey. This isn't like that. This is the darkness that robs one of their best sense and replaces it with a paralyzing fear.

In this foreign car Sam sits, phantom muscles cramped and unable to move. He only knows his eyes are still there because he can feel myself blink, still instinctively moisturizing the organs he has no current control over. It is then that he finally hears a sound, the radio switches on and begins changing channels automatically, random jumbled pieces of songs and bursts of static coming through. He sighs in relief when it finally settles on one channel, and a single voice comes out of it: Gabe.

"Sam," Gabriel calls out," I don't have much time, so listen. You're in the command deck of your Enterprise, Kirk. No one is controlling your meatsuit, which is why you're riding shotgun. Meg should be close by, she can't go rummaging anywhere else in your mind, I made sure of that. Remember, as soon as you get what we need, you need to kill her, or she may try and take the wheel. If she does you may be too weak to fight her off for a little while. Still, she'll have more than enough time to – Geet w-whhhaat s-sh-she…." His voice broke out and the radio switched off.

Sam tries to move from his seat, but finds he's secured there by a seatbelt he hadn't noticed previously. He unbuckles it and begins searching the vehicle, but it wasn't like the demon had much room to play hide-and-seek. Meg was familiar with his mind, or his "command deck" as the archangel had put it, so she may have learned a few tricks. Everything was the same as it had been during her last possession of the Winchester: minds rarely changed their shape.

Two muscular arms abruptly pulled around him, freezing cold fingers running up unde this shirt to tickle the bare skin as an airy chuckle echoes in the car. A chin perched on the cambion's shoulder, and he looked up only to see the face that haunted his nightmare the night before not even an inch from his. He tried to get away, scrabbling about uselessly, but there was only the space in the car he was confined in. Suddenly, ice cold lips were against his. It was only a second, less a kiss and more a brush of lips.

"Hey, Sammy," The man whispers, his hands still exploring under his shirt as his hips began pushing back against his in a slow, steady rhythm, "Remember me?"

"Who are you," Sam gasps, tense against the body that held him close," What are you?" Then, the cold was close, next to his ear.

"You know who I am," The man whispered, his damp, formed tongue running over his earlobe," Say it."

"…Lucifer," And some part, deep down inside of Sam probably knew he should be afraid. But instead, he was calm as he felt his breath cloud up with the cold.

Lucifer lets out another airy chuckle, now nibbling Sam's earlobe as he growls, "You're mine."

Sam's chest swelled under the frigid, calloused hand. His heart was pounding so fast. The Devil leaned his head down until his forehead bumped against his quivering neck, whispering words that were only supposed to be thoughts. The cambion looks up just in time to see the demon he'd been searching for setting her hands on the wheel, her lips drawn back into a sneer.

"It sure as hell isn't Jesus takin' the wheel," Meg purrs.

"No," Sam rasps, pushing against the arms confining him," Get…off of me!"

Lucifer bites into his neck, his grip tightening as blood splashes over Sam's lap, running in crimson torrents down his neck. The Devil's forked tongue laps at it as he says," You don't remember me, do you, Sammy? You know my name, but not who belongs to it."

Meg stared at Sam with a raised eyebrow, before directing her attention back to the nonexistent rose before her. The demon couldn't see the literal devil on his shoulder. Or in this case, coiled around him like an anaconda. The cambion takes a shaking breath and begins to struggle some more, hissing in pain as the jaw around his neck tightens.

Sam sat up in the devil's trap, his mouth a thin line as he flexes his fingers and watches his hand in fascination. Gabriel's eyebrows nearly hit the roof as he spits out a repeated slur of curse words. The cambion's eyes flashed azure black, signaling he'd lost control to the demon he let inside his head. The archangel quickly grabbed a flask of holy water from the coffee table and splashed it over the demon's face, flinching when a pained howl left his companion's lips.

"Shit," Gabriel grits his teeth," Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii –"

Meg screams as she falls onto her knees, wrenching her fingers through Sam's hair as she snarls, "I'll tear him from the inside out. I may not be able to kill him, but I'll make him wish he was –"She let out a distorted scream as another splash of holy water went over her face, steam riding into the air in thick puffs.

Then Sam holds up a hand, letting out a shaking breath as he shouts, "Don't! Don't exorcise her," He inclines his head to the side, a pained moan escaping his lips, "I got distracted and lost control – Just let me get it back – Aghhhh!"

Sam struggled against Lucifer's grip, and the pain in his throat dwindled—the obscene sounds from the monster above him faded— His mouth suddenly filled with blood, accompanied with such pain that it snapped him back to his senses. The cambion pushed back up against Lucifer, his hand running along the devil's parted lips, gasping as he felt the jaw loosen for a split second in surprise. In that very instant he dove forward shoving the demon away from the steering wheel.

Meg let out a strangled noise, falling across the seat as Sam pins her down. The demon opens and closes her eyes, before narrowing them dangerously as she says," What are you playing at? Why didn't you just kill me outright? He'll, why did you even give me a chance to reach your mind – "

"Same as you," Sam spits out, ignoring the gushes of blood going down his neck as he lazily slaps a hand over it," When demons share close quarters, they can read the vessel's mind, look into any part to get what they want. Well, my powers allow me to take in demons, and if I do choose… their memories."

Before Meg can scream, he presses his hand over her mouth and slams her head against the car door. Her pained groan is muffled against the flesh of his hand as he closes his eyes and concentrates. He roots through her very essence, searching for the right memory, the right thought – If the demon just slipped for one second – Found it.

Sam grins, spitting out another mouthful of blood as he whispers chillingly," Found it." His hand pulsates an eerie orange shade as her entire skeleton lights up like an exploding star. Another, much more winded out scream is muffled into the cambion's hand.

Sam gasps sitting up in the devil's trap, not surprised to see he's lying on a puddle of his own blood. Gabriel is on his knees beside him, his jacket in a bundle against Sam's neck. The cambion chokes violently, his nails racking against the archangel's wrist as blood foams past his lips. The angel presses two fingers against the latter's forehead, healing the damage instantly.

Sam sits up after a moment, heavy pants escaping him as he runs his fingers over his neck. He chokes out," St Mary's Convent. L-L-Lilith is hiding in…" His eyes roll into the back of his head as he falls limp in his companion's arms.

Gabriel runs his hands over the place where Lucifer had tried to stake his claim, and promised softly, "Sam Winchester isn't yours, brother. You are not worthy of him. You may have claimed him in one future, but you won't have him now… never again."

The rat quivered in the shaded undergrowth of the garden. His dull brown fur helped him to blend in with the dried sticks and autumn leaves. His liquid black eyes were alert and his whiskers twitched. The aroma of two intruders invaded his nostrils, he froze, listening. If the two came closer then it would be a frantic scramble for the gap under the rotting fence, but otherwise he was safer staying silent, motionless, hidden.

"There's the little shit," One of them shouts, and the rat bolts.

The rat's wee feet slip outwards on the wet autumn leaves as he rounds the corner, the cold evening air shocking his throat and lungs as he inhales deeper, faster. With each footfall from his pursuer, he bounces a few centimeters into he air before landing back on his feet again. His heart beats frantically, all or nothing. The man chasing him is weighed down with guns, silver-knives and holy water, all of them useless unless he gets a clear shot, which he won't. He can hear the man panting with the effort from mere feet behind, that's how fucking noisy the full creature is.

"Damn it! I told you we should have just taken man's best friend with us! Ain't that what they're breed for?"

A loud, lengthy sigh," Argos is far too proud a creature to do a task as humiliating as this. And you trying to catch it is getting us nowhere. Allow me."

Then, a flash of brilliant bluish white light, and the rat is in crushing grip of another man, his second pursuer. The rat, Crowley, groans inwardly as he's brought squirming and squeaking to the two pursuers' eye-levels. The King of Hell had actually degraded himself by possessing such a lowly creature to avoid capture, only to be caught by Dean, fucking, Winchester, and his pretty boy sidekick he wasn't familiar with. Though from the light show he'd just put on, he guessed he was a halo-head.

"Well, look what the cat or Cas brought in. The one that rat away," Dean grins wolfishly, his voice gruff as he states," Can you understand him, or do we need to find him a vessel?"

Castiel answers," I'll be able to understand him. Ask him anything."

"Did you rat out on us?" Dean barks, leaning in close to the squirming creature.

The rat squeaked, and clawed at Castiel's fingers, but the angel didn't even flinch. "He says,'You slimy git I made a deal with the moose, why in the bloody hell would I-' I couldn't recognize any discernible speech after that," Castiel translates in his usual monotone voice,"I don't think he revealed anything vital to our enemies, but even so, we can't take the chance that he may."

"Besides, in the other-future that Gabe showed us, this little bastard caused a lot of shit for my brother and I," Dean snarls," Do your thing, feathers. I've never seen a rat get smitted, smite, smote, smit – Whichever one you prefer."

Crowley let out a loud, sharp scritch and started struggling harder. The seraph lays the rat flat on his palm, pressing two fingers into its petite spine as he reveals," You cannot leave the creature you are possessing, abomination. I won't allow it," The rat lets out a shrill squeak as it's beady eyes burn into its skull and its fur begins to blacken and shrivel," It is finished."

"Ugh, nothing like the smell of deep fried rat to wake you up in the morning," The hunter wrinkles his nose in disgust, watching as the angel tossed the dead rodent to the ground,"Bobby is waiting for us back at the house, he'll be more than happy to find out he made the right call with that spell."

Castiel nods and shoots a final glance at the blackened rat. "In the future my brother showed us, he was an ally in the beginning, and ended up later 'causing a lot of shit' as you put it," The seraph muses softly," It's strange, how our two times are beginning to have some of the same vague occurrences."

"Yeah," Dean mutters.

Dean exclaims over the phone, "Damn it, Sammy – What do you mean? No don't… Okay. Okay… fine."

Dean Winchester entered the house's main room, plopping down on the sofa with a sigh. He tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling, arms outstretched. For a moment he held his breath, then exhaled and let his body relax. Weeks of worrying, pointless arguments and ignoring Castiel's subtle hints that his brother may not be able to find out where Lilith is, all slipped off his shoulders.

"How is he?" Bobby asked, sitting turned sideways to face him.

"Asleep again, I think," Dean stretched and yawned, "Fighting off Meg long enough to find out where Lilith is, hell, it took a lot out of him. He got his friggin' neck torn out. Plus, he's still feelin' like shit, but the stubborn bastard won't let Gabe or Cas check him out."

"But, how is he? Did he say what happened," The seasoned hunter presses, "I mean he's fought off a demon's hold on him before, he does it every time he takes their power, and Meg isn't anything special. What could've happened to throw him off?"

"He's fine, he just lost control. I'm not going to press any further than what he did tell me," The older Winchester shook his head, "All he said was that he was in a bad place. I asked him if he'd been hurt, and he said, 'not for his lack of trying'."

"He didn't say anything else?"

"No," Dean glanced at him, then at the table. Sam's duffel was thrown on it carelessly, and it was unzipped. A few crumpled papers peaked from the teeth of the zipper, "What could he have seen?"

Bobby shrugged. He started to answer, then looked back at Dean as he stifled a yawn. He stands up, and states," Maybe you should get some sleep, too. You've been pushing yourself hard these last few weeks."

"I don't need it," Dean grunts. He picked up the remote control, not to turn on the television but merely to turn it over in his hands, "With all the shit going on, I sometimes think that I'm already asleep."

"Maybe I should ask if you're okay," The seasoned hunter starts, his voice concerned, "You've been kind of...flat, almost. I know we've all been worn pretty thin, especially with everything going on with Sam, but I don't think we've had the chance to address – "

"What? Hell?"

"For starters," Bobby murmurs, scratching his patchy beard.

Dean shrugs and responds," In all honesty, I don't remember anything about Hell. Not a damn thing," He shakes his head, his hands clenching on the television remote," I keep going over and over it in my mind, but nothing. It's like it was wiped clean… Like I was never there."

"Maybe Cas or Gabe worked some angel mojo?"

"It doesn't matter," The hunter states nonchalantly, standing from the couch,"All that matters now, is being ready for when the time comes. Sam got Lilith's location, and it won't be long until they notice their favorite bitch is missing and bolt. We're meeting Gabe and Cas in a few hours to hear the plan."

"Then?"

"Then we save the world," Dean glances at the papers peeking through his brother's duffel again. Out of curiosity he brings one out, and his eyes widen in horror, "Oh - Fuck... Sam, no..."

Dean Winchester was staring at numerous sketches spread before him and occasionally flipping a page in an art book. Bobby knelt in front of him, looking over the sketches. The seasoned hunter spotted himself, angry, accusing, glaring out of darkness at the viewer; his eyes are shaded in messily with thick charcoal pencil. He brought it closer and stared at it for several seconds, seeing himself the way Sam had.

"That's not the only one of you," Dean said softly, motioning at two others side by side.

Bobby put the first one down and pulled the other two closer. Drawn sitting in front of the television, one leg pulled up with his hand resting on a woman's knee, he didn't watch the screen as much as he simply stared into space. The woman was his long dead wife - - her face is like that of a specter. The other picture had him sitting alone in a room, he was in a wheelchair, and there were silent tear tracks tracing over his detailed wrinkles.

"Sam's powers are probably causin' him to see flashes of that shit you saw," Bobby states gruffly, shuffling through more papers, "The poor kid is starting to see the other future, the future that he once lived. The past can't be changed so easily, so I seriously doubt it'll ever be completely wiped from the books."

Dean runs a hand over his face and tosses down one of the sketch books. "Does this mean that he'll eventually remember?"

"Doubtful," Bobby states bluntly, "It's likely that he doesn't even remember anything, aside from brief flashes, now. Though, I do feel some figures from this alternate future do, and always will have an iron-tight grip on him. Whether he knows it or not…" The old man sighs softly, and stands, "From what the halo-head showed you about his pitch-fork bearing older brother, he's bitter about the bond Lucifer and Sam share as archangel and vessel. Though in this future it will hopefully never be explored, it's still there whether any of us like it or not."

Dean looked uncomfortable at that observation, his face looking a little paler. Both had seen every finite detail of the future in store for them if Lucifer was released from his eternal time-out. The hunter found himself struggling to understand some things he'd seen; he would never let his brother sacrifice himself; he would never shove a mangled soul back down his gullet; he would never keep the both hunting when his brother was literally being driven insane – Dean closes his eyes, running a hand over his face. He'd seen every damn thing the devil had done to his brother, yet somehow, in this future, Sam loved Lucifer.

The hunter grumbles something under his breath and begins shoving the various sketches and sketchbooks back into his brother's bag. "Maybe when all of this is over…" He trails off, unsure of what to say for a moment, before continuing, "Sam can finally just settle down, you know? Have some little tykes, get mortgage, have barbecues – That kind of thing. Though that may be a little difficult considering he's tethered to a four-foot tall assclown – "

The seasoned hunter rolls his eyes and notes, "Gabriel may not be your…ideal picture of a future for Sam, hell it ain't mine, but he is good for him. Notice how he is much more relaxed, less weighted around Gabriel," He continues with a nod, "And it goes both ways. Gabriel has matured a lot because of Sam. He's taken responsibility and initiative in our little band of misfits. I think, perhaps, they balance each other out. Like predator and prey; beer and peanuts; chili and cornbread – "

"Munchin and giant," Dean quips. Bobby scowls but doesn't disagree.

Sam's hair tossed about as the gentle breeze turned to wind. The afternoons were always cold in Colorado, like it never got the memo that he was cold enough. He hurried his steps, stopping when he was in the middle of an icy field; it was about a fourth of a mile from the actual house. Gabriel was already waiting for him, his face cold as a stone.

The archangel had his fingers splayed in front of him, half a dozen figures, their faces concealed with sacks, on their knees in front of him. Argos is pacing around them, soft whimpers eliciting from him as he spots the cambion. His booted feet crunched loudly on the snow, making the figures start to shift and struggle again. He could practically smell them; sulfur and decaying flesh fouled the air – Demons.

Gabriel's eyes swell with pity for what he was about to ask Sam to do. "Sam," He starts off softly, "You have to be at optimum power for the fight against of Lilith. I gathered some of the strongest remaining demons for this, so you'll be taking in some serious mojo – And you'll be taking in more than you ever have before."

Sam feels his heart beating away in his chest. "I know," He responds after a moment, "I-I know, it's just…" He closed his eyes and took in a shaking breath as he finishes," If I do this, I will be giving up any chance of ever being…truly good again. Of not being a…" He flinched when he feels a warm hand, a deep contrast to the freezing air, press against the nape of his neck.

"That doesn't matter," The archangel states with the gentlest voice," Sam, you have to make many choices throughout life. Some are especially important choices. Some are quite the opposite. But a sizable number of them are between good and evil. The choices you make, however, determine what you'll become… It's your choice, Sam," He's gently petting the side of the taller man's neck, looking deeply into his eyes as he finishes, "You can still be good."

"Gabriel," Sam whispers, feeling his cheeks burn," …When did you change so much? Somehow in the span of a few months you've turned into a man that I…" He closed his eyes and presses his hand against the latter's," …You've changed for the better."

Gabriel smiles sadly as he responds, "I guess I have. Seeing the things, I've seen…It sobered me up really quick."

Argos wags his tail and barks. Do you still want me to leave? Sam nods and with that the corgi trots back in the direction of the house. Stay safe.

Sam sighs, but quickly turns silent when his gaze falls on the demons gathered at his feet. He takes a step closer, extending his hand forward. Simultaneously all six of the demons let out pained moans, and their bodies started to thrash violently. He closed his eyes, pushing his palm forward as he inclined his head with it. Dark abysses, twisting, pulsating; a human's soul long bereft of life. They struggle, push back with all their might, clawing and hissing in their meatsuits.

Sam chokes out, a spurt of blood going down his nose and he pulls harder. He presses his free hand to his face, blocking the influx of crimson liquid that taints to the white snow beneath his feet. Six channels of smoke shot onto the ground, pooling at his feet as they pulsate and warble softly. He makes a beckoning motion to his mouth, and his head snaps back. They all push inside, and the cambion can feel them all struggling in the depths of his meatsuit. He clenches his eyes she and clenches his teeth; his skeleton pulsates a sickly orange six times, each one brighter than the last.

Coldness and pain. Sam's whole world reduced to just two sensations, the frigid snow beneath his face and the pain radiating through his body. He lay still for a long time, eyes closed. His eyes burned. The cambion held one hand over them as if they might melt in the afternoon light. He heard someone's footsteps coming closer and backed away, putting his other hand on the ground beneath him in a pathetic attempt to steady himself.

"Hey, hey," Gabriel's voice rings out, and he feels his warm hand touching his face again, "Come on, open your eyes… Sam? Sam!"

Sam opens his eyes and gasps softly. He feels the hand on his face tense as he meets the archangel's champagne hues. The cambion blinks rapidly, the burning sensation slowly fading, but his vision itself was eerily clear. The entire world radiated in his vision, and he exhales sharply as he fully took in the archangel holding him close. He began to shake in awe of the sight before him.

The wings of the angelic creature arced high above his gracious head of golden hair. The wings were nearly as tall as his body, arcing off his back like a concave reflection. Each long, narrow feather was a metallic copper, each reflecting a slight pink light as they ruffled; they tensed and shook in his mighty glory. This is what the archangel truly was – The most absolute, the most beautiful, of heaven's weapons.

Gabriel ran a finger down his face, his thumb running under his eye. "Sammy," He whispers, "Your eyes…they're yellow."

Sam's shaking ceased as if he'd flipped a switch in himself. He raised his head and breathed normally. Gabriel gently helped him up, not able to take his eyes away from his. The cambion blinked, easing a hand towards his sparkling yellow orbs. The archangel took the hand and pulled it away, shaking his head as he presses the knuckle to his lips.

There's a flutter of wings and suddenly, they're back in the cabin, laying down on the gigantic leather couch. Sam's eyes shimmered, yellow and white undulating. He feels wings as too-light, too-sharp feathers brush against him so softly, not cutting skin. Gabriel laughs in amusement, and purposely brushes on of the feathers against his nose making the cambion huff.

"You can see them, huh?" The archangel questions, a brow raised, "That should make things a hell of a lot kinkier next time –"He feels a crushing pressure on his windpipe as the latter narrows his eyes and falls silent. Gabriel got cut off when Sam kissed him. The kiss was deep, and Gabriel was startled, but not surprised.

They break apart for air, panting wetly against each other's mouths. Sam moves his hands up to tangle with Gabriel's hair, parting his legs so the archangel can stand in between them, their crotches pressed up against one another with warm, delicious pressure. They kiss again for a few long moments, still languid, and the cambion finds himself enjoying taking things slow and steady. They both jolt when the couch lifts into the air, and slams back down onto the ground again.

"I forgot about that," Gabriel mumbles against Sam's lips as he grins, "Let's see if we can make it happen again…"

"It'll scratch the floor," Sam growls, but he doesn't pull away. The archangel runs his fingers under the cambion's jeans and boxers and started working at his hole. He snapped the fingers on his free hand, and suddenly, the fingers pumping was coated with a hefty amount of lube. Sam only moaned as Gabriel continued to work him with his skilled fingers.

"Mm. I love hearing you," Gabriel praised. He grazed Sam's neck with his teeth and Sam froze up. When the archangel licked at his skin, the latter relaxed, "A full-fledged cambion and an archangel bumping uglies, huh? Talk about peace on Earth."

"Please..." Sam groaned.

Another flutter of wings interrupts them, and Castiel stands tensely before them. Gabriel let out a slur of curses and pulled out his fingers, sitting up from his position between Sam's legs. Sam sits up with a pant, his lips pulled into the smallest of smirks. With his disheveled state, and slight smirk, the cambion didn't look entirely sane. The seraph eyed Sam with worry and great curiosity.

Sam's pink lips part ever so slightly as he gawks at Castiel. "Cas," He brought his hand up, extending it toward the space around the angel's shoulder blades,"I can see them… Your wings."

The wings of the angel arced high above its gracious head of dark hair. They were made of long, nimble feathers that would make even the mightiest birds of prey turn green with envy. They were whiter than a soft colored cloud on a bleating summers day, so white that a pure glow seemed to emit from them.

"Sam," Castiel chokes out, his steel-blue eyes wide,"What have you done?"

"I finished what I started," Sam answered as he stood up all the way," I'm ready."

The seraph looks solemn as he nods "I was told by Gabriel to be here, so that I may transport you to where Bobby and Dean are waiting in position," He trails off, "If you need anything... If anything happens, pray. I'll be there."

"I will," Sam assures.

"I will be watching," Castiel states, resolute.

Gabriel's arm loops around Sam's shoulders. "Hopefully not too closely," He states as he winks at Sam, "Can you give us a few –"A flutter of wings and he's gone,"-minutes? Huh, looks like he finally learned to take a hint."

"Yeah," Sam whispers, "What did you want to talk about?"

"…Sam," The archangel starts, his champagne hues softening," I just want you to know – No, I need you to know what you mean to me. God – I've gone over it in my head so many times, one would think the words are seared in my brain, but…" He trails off, his eyes casting on the floor as he takes a shaking breath, "Sam…I love you."

Sam's eyes are blown wide as the words leave Gabriel's lips. After a moment, he grabs his hand. Gabriel starts, surprised and drawn in. Sam kisses him. This was not something that simply snapped, nor was it an abrupt give of a dam, one that slowly wore away with time by pressure. No, this was a smooth thing, a revelation, a descent into acceptance, gliding and sweet and gentle, into this thing that's somehow been there all along.

"…I love you, too."

" I know."

Castiel comes back in at that moment, his steely blue gaze softening at the sight. "Sam," He presses after a moment, "It's time."

Sam nods, and pulls away from Gabriel. Castiel walks over and takes Sam's hand, his wings fluttering as he flies them away. Alone, Gabriel runs his fingers across his still moist lips as he smiles. He laughs softly, shaking his head, and lets his own wings unfurl.

The plan was simple. Divide and conquer. The two resident angels and the magical corgi were supposed to hold off Raphael and any of his soldiers. The two humans were to get rid of any demons surrounding the convent or guarding Lilith. The cambion was to take on the white eyed demon directly and have her head on a platter swiftly. They could not fail, there would be no second chance, it was now or never.

Bobby and Dean, of course, nearly shit themselves when they saw his gleaming yellow eyes but hadn't said a word. Gabriel had armed them with angel blades, and Dean still had Ruby's demon-killing knife, not to mention their usual barrage of holy water and salt rounds. They were ready to hold back any black-eyed crotch goblins that tried to intervene in Lilith and Sam's final battle. Bobby was already stationed on the other side of the church, Dean was just lingering. Sam was about to leave, also not having spoken a word, when he abruptly turned.

Dean took three strides and grabbed hold of his brother, crushed him close again and wrapped his arms around him. The hunter couldn't think of a damn thing else to do, couldn't possibly respond in any other way. And those long, lean arms closed around him in return, as if helpless to the impulse, and his brother dragged him closer. Sam closed his eyes, he felt like a small child again; his big brother holding him in his arms so that he could feel safe, reassured.

"Sam…" Dean's voice comes out as a choke," Come on, man…don't. Just…don't. Don't make it seem like this will be the last time. You're getting out of this intact, and so am I, okay? I'm not losing you again, Sammy." And with that Sam took his leave.

Lilith was still wearing the same skin. A woman with straw-blond hair in loose curls, an eerily white dress right around her curvaceous body. She grinned when she saw Sam approaching and purred, "You're here," She stretched her arms out wide like she was going for an embrace.

Sam kept walking until he was standing directly across from the white-eyed demon. Lilith stood in front of a marble crypt, its lid heavy and ornate, covered in decaying leaves and windswept cobwebs. The cambion stepped close, almost to her face, and let his lips fall into a silent snarl.

"I didn't think we would be doing this dance for a while," Lilith says with a smirk, her lips almost grazing his jawline, "Raphie promised me protection until the time was right, but if I get to knock you down a few pegs…I guess I'll have some fun."

"This is your idea of fun?" Sam's yellow eyes pulsate, and Lilith's eyes roll to the back of her head revealing her whites in response.

The white eyed demon grins manically as she responds with, "Us demons have a twisted idea of what's fun I suppose," She laughs coldly, her breasts bouncing with it, "I guess it's a family trait."

But even Lilith could see she was in danger, so she fell silent. They regarded each other silently, two monsters in the dark. And then the demon rushed forward, her steps too quick, her walk bent with hands before herself, eager to devour this little cambion whole. To put him in his place for the time being. In the pitch-black convent, the fight began silently. Neither spoke, neither snarled. Sam simply drove forward, hands outstretched, crashing into his enemy before she could fully see it.

The angel blade is still imbedded in Castiel's stomach. As Gabriel finally pulled it out, it came as a red fountain to spread over the already wet mud, every projection showing the struggling of the seraph's heart. He raised his already blanched hand to his neck before falling to his knees, eyes wide. Before the archangel could catch him, he was slumped to the ground, pulse thready and weakening.

"Cas," Gabriel exclaims, ignoring the distant yells from their brethren," Cassie, hey, come on. You were barely nicked, don't be so damn dramatic – Cas!"

"Gabriel…I'm glad that I found you…" Castiel starts, blood dribbling down his chin," I'm glad I got to fight beside you one…last time… Please, protect the future… Don't let L-Lucifer…."

Castiel was wheezing now, his grace starting to fade as he slouched in Gabriel's arms. The two of them could only hold off the overwhelming numbers so long. The archangel had shakily carved sigils on the threes around them, trying to hold off the horde if possible. Argos was panting heavily, blood calling his fur as he lays down on Castiel's lap. The corgi gently licked the seraph's palm.

Raphael was going to win. That was the only thought racing across Gabriel's frantic mind. Raphael had easily overwhelmed him with his numbers in a matter of minutes, and the younger and weaker archangel simplify wasn't strong enough to fight him toe-to-toe. Castiel was starting to slouch in his arms, his weening grace a full light, his charcoal black wings starting to slouch. Argos whimpered, pawing at his legs, and licking his palms once more.

"Cas?" Gabriel questions softly. He slowly, hesitantly presses two fingers to Castiel's gaping wound, a bluish glow emanating from it.

Argos barked in alarm. Fool! If you waste your grace now, you will not be able to hold back Raphael when he breaks through the sigils.

Gabriel laughs, and runs his fingers through the corgi's fur as he chokes out, "I know little buddy, but I-I can't let him die… He's my baby brother, I love him," He laughed again, sniffling softly, "Second time I've said that today."

Argos whimpers. You can understand me?

"You're a magical corgi, right?" The archangel questions, slumping against the tree, running his fingers through the unconscious seraph's feathers,"I thought you'd know about these kinds of things. S-Sam and I w-we finally admitted that we felt something...That we love each other...I guess since I'm sorta bonded to him now, I can hear you, too?"

Argos sniffs, and nudges him. Then you heard what I said... You have to be able to hold back Raphael.

"I know," Gabriel says softly, his champagne hues glittering with unsheathe tears, "And I am. You're going to get Castiel out of here, while I take care of my jack-ass brother."

The corgi whimpers again, shaking his head. No. Sam would never forgive me –

"If you don't, Sam will be forced into a future that was never meant to be," Gabriel snarls, close to tears as he continues smoothing down the rumpled feathers," Argos, if you love you master…you won't do this to him. You'll take Castiel, and get out of here… Please."

Argos bows his head. Good-bye, Gabriel.

"W-wait…Tell Sam," Gabriel gasps as the sigils glow brightly, signaling that they're about to break, "Tell Sam that everything he needs to know is in a box under our bed. And tell him…Tell him that I've always loved him, even if I didn't say it damn near enough. Can you tell him that, little buddy?"

Argos nods and bites down gently on Castiel's trench-coat. They both glow brightly and disappear. Gabriel sits up, taking his archangel blade from his side pocket, he then shakes off his jacket, and begins unbuttoning his shirt. He drags the blade across his bare stomach, tracing a specific sigil into his skin. An energy focusing sigil is painted in scars on his skin, light trails of blood going down in rivulets.

"Sam," Gabriel whispers, and he repeats the name like a mantra, "Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam…"

The sigils drawn on the trees break, and Raphael along with nearly two dozen angels rush through like a tidal wave. The older archangel soaked in the sight, and his eyes widened, a silent scream escaping his lips. Gabriel held the blade in the air, preparing to bring it down agains the sigil as a single tear cascaded down his cheek. A pillar of light erupts from the archangel with volcanic force, and everything within radius was decimated immediately.

"OL AZIAZOR ELASA," Gabriel whispers, his palm cupping Sam's cheek.

Sam's face reddened significantly, he knew the language the seraph uttered almost better than his native human tongue. Enochian was the language that originated from angels. Aside from its use for communication, the language was used for various spell-work and rituals. Despite his role on Team Free Will as the guy who researched everything, this was not how he learned it. For quite some time, it was the only tongue he knew; this was all that was spoken in the Cage.

Sam finally manages to gasp out, "But why would you want something that is broken?"

"Even something really beautiful can be broken sometimes," Gabriel says,"But you don't have to worry. I'm going to fix this - I'm going to save you, Sammy, so that you never, ever have to suffer through the things you have. I'm going to change the ending."

Sam shakes his head, not comprehending. Something broken could never be beautiful, much less himself. The fact that an angel could think something like that, speak it out loud for him to hear, it was too much. The human could only understand the fact that he was broken; nothing more. Not beautiful, not strong –

"I love you, Sam Winchester."

And just like that, it was over. At the cost of everything.

Sam narrowly dodged one of Lilith's blasts of white light. He recovered and quickly dashed forward again, aiming low, catching her legs against his shoulder. Lilith toppled over him, and he realized his mistake as she digs her teeth into his shin, catching him and holding tight as she bit down on his ankle. Bone crunched between her pearly whites, wrenched free only with a pained cry as the cambion threw himself to one side, scrambling to send a vicious kick to her head.

Something cracked underfoot as he pulled away, stumbling back to his feet, not even flinching as he stood back on his broken leg. Pain was a human sensation, he smiled grimly, glaring at the demon in front of him. She struggled to push herself up, one hand against her head where her skull had broken. A mule-kick like that would have killed a normal fighter. As it was, the demon hissed angrily and used the wall to steady herself, finally rising again.

The cambion chuckled darkly," Never fought someone like me, huh?" He was about to taunt once more when he felt it. He doesn't recall how he knew, but in that instant, he felt a sick lurch as he felt something inside of him severed. It felt as if his very soul had been hacked into bits; like it had been frozen then burned, then frozen over once more; like everything that he loved or could ever love withered away in that instant - Gabriel.

Sam couldn't breathe. He tried to gasp, to scream, make a sound, anything. Instead he trembled and fell to his knees, unable to look away. God no, not possible, he can't be, no no no no no- He finally found his voice and screamed, throwing his hands into the sky as power pulsates from within. His glowing yellow eyes darted around, looking for a safe outlet, a spot to dispose of the power.

Lilith stood, smirking, backed up against the wall. Claret was starting to form a crust in her hair and she was swaying ever so slightly, but she was annoyingly still alive. Sam extended his hand towards her, not even bothering to stand up as he feels up inside her meatsuit and snapped his fingers. Lilith didn't even have time to let out a final scream as her meatsuit imploded in on itself with a series of flashing white lights.

Sam bows his head, and clenches his eyes shut, praying to his archangel. He whispered the soft, broken name, so much emotion packed into one word, one well-worn syllable, as if they carried all the world in their utterance," Gabriel. Gabriel. Gabriel." When there is no answer he screams again. Again. Again. Again.

November 2, 2008

Without a second thought about Bobby or Dean, Sam Winchester stole a car and drove like the devil was on his tail. Twice the speed limit down country lanes, only just cautious enough to avoid an accident or being pulled over and avoiding sleeping towns where he could. His stolen car only needing to be refueled once just before he reached Colorado where he changed out of his blood-stained clothes and threw out all his personal belongings; his phone, his ID's except one, and the stolen credit cards. He felt strangely calm. He'd say he was in shock, but he had nothing to be in shock about; Gabriel had faked his death before.

When he reached his and Gabriel's secluded cabin, he immediately felt the angelic presence inside. He about damn near sprinted through the snow, and nearly broke the door trying to open it, only to lay his eyes on a seraph rather than an archangel. Castiel was standing in the middle of the living room, steadily melting flakes of snow still in his dark, messy hair. His dry lips are a thin line as usual, but his usually hardened, icy blue stare is soft as if he had something to mourn. Argos is by his feet, his ears flat on the top of his head as gentle whines escape his throat.

"No," Sam utters, shaking his head as he grits his teeth, "Don't – Don't look at me like that. L-like he's really…gone. He's not – You don't understand he can't – "

Castiel inclines his head as he whispers, "Sam, Gabriel is gone. He sacrificed himself – "The angel swallows thickly as he confesses, "For me, he sacrificed himself for me so that I may live. Sam, I didn't want him to – I was ready to lay down my life on the battle field. I was ready to go, but he – "Sam grabs his trench coat's collar and slams the seraph against the wall, his yellow eyes blazing as his lips curl into a silent snarl.

"Don't speak of him as if you have something to mourn," The cambion shouts, shaking the seraph violently with each word, "As if you could ever understand… You're the reason he's dead. You're the reason – "

Sam stumbles backwards, his grip on Castiel's trench coat shaking uncontrollably. The seraph surges forward with him, gripping the cambion's hands in his to keep him steady. Abruptly Sam's face fell forward, and he vomited onto the angel's shoes, and heaved violently afterwards. He coughed, attempting to wipe some of the bile from the corner of his mouth.

Argos whimpers. Sam, please, you're only hurting yourself more! And bringing your friend down with you!

Castiel gently pulls Sam in his arms, feeling his head loll against his shoulder as he adjusted his grip around him. The seraph helps him sit down on the couch and silently takes a seat in the chair across from. The cambion looks up after a moment, his lips still damp with spit and his body trembling. The seraph doesn't dare to meet his gaze, he can't bear facing what his own survival had done to him.

Argos growls now, his chocolate brown hues cold. Sam, I was there, I chose to let Gabriel go through with it. If you are to blame anyone, let it be me, but leave Castiel be! The corgi's ears flatten as he continues. Remember, you may have lost a lover, but he lost a brother.

Sam had returned to the big leather couch next to Gabriel and was leaning against him lightly. Before he knew what, he was doing, the archangel had wrapped an arm around the cambion's far broader shoulders to pull him closer. Instead, the bigger man took that as invitation to flop down on top of him, snuggling his face into the latter's shirt as he slid further down till he was practically lying in his lap. He yawned, then kicked off his shoes and pulled his feet up onto the cushions, curling into a ball with his head pillowed on the smaller man's thighs.

Gabriel frowned at him, not quite knowing how he should react. "What are you doing? Shit – Have you been drinking?" He asked quietly, noticing how Sam's lips quirked up into a small smile, I knew it. You're only warm and fuzzy when you've downed a few bottles."

"You're just so nice and warm…" Mumbled Sam, voice softly clouded and sleep-laced. Gabriel scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment, his ears turning pink.

"I thought we agreed you weren't going to drink anymore. Hell, where did you even get some booze?"

Sam smiles, peeking open an eye lazily as he says, "You didn't pat me down. You should do that next time... Besides temperance is rather tedious, don't you think?"

At that Sam's eyes soften, and he bows his head. He closes his eyes, and breathes in, breathes out. In, out. In, out. He has to calm his mind. He can't let the grief overwhelm him, not with the damage he can cause to those around him. To his friends; the previous few he's willing to allow close to him. If he loses anything else, he may just look for the solution in a bottle again.

"Cas look at me," Sam says softly. Castiel hesitantly meets his gaze and Sam continues, "I shouldn't have said that. Gabriel's death is not on you. He died saving your life. It was his choice. No-one forced him to do it. No-one could ever make that stubborn bastard do anything…"

"You're wrong," Castiel whispers, "My brother's death is on me. Had I not… Had I – "

Sam exclaims," Damn it, Cas! It wasn't your fault. Please, please see that…"

The cambion closes his eyes for a brief second, before standing up, and walking over to the seraph. Sam presses his hand against Castiel's much smaller hand pressed on the chair's side. He stares deeply into those deep blue hues, seeing the self-loathing, the guilt that resided. The angel's lips part in surprise, and after a moment, hesitantly, he upturns his hand and holds the cambion's.

Sam speaks gently, "There's nothing either of us could have done. I wish there was, but there wasn't, Cas," He gives the hand in his own a gentle squeeze, "No amount of blame will change that. I'm sorry for ever trying to place it on you, I had no right. I just – I just…"

Once that first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream. Sam bent forward where he sat on the floor, his hand still tightly clasped in Castiel's. And after a moment he began crying softly, his entire body quivering as he tried to shy away from the angel's view. He feels the corgi jump into his lap, and lap at his tears with his tongue. The seraph stays silent, in shock, unsure of what to do.

Sam Winchester didn't want anything. He sat there, gripping the angel's hand like a lifeline, and tried to remember what it meant to be alive. What it meant to breath, to blink, to act and yet nothing came to mind. It seemed like the only thing he could do right then…was hurt. His physical injuries were almost nonexistent; a dull throb. But in his mind, nothing, not a damn thing, could compare to the emotional turmoil he was suffering.

Gabriel's story wasn't meant to end like this. He saved the fucking world. He had tried to change; he became generous and selfless and kind. His story was never supposed to end; he was supposed to be forever. The unfairness of it all was so unimaginable, so bitterly purposeless that the cambion almost couldn't believe that… that this was real, that this was happening. The cruelty, the death, and the pain; everything was so tragically arbitrary.

What was the point? Where was Gabriel's justice? Where was his retribution for all those years of pain; for having to abandon his own family? Why was Sam left here, alone and afraid? There were questions, so many questions floating around through his head and nothing but silence answered them… But hanging in that empty air was an answer in itself. Sam Winchester finally understood that there were no fucking answers.

There was no justice, there was no – no powerful force out there watching over them. God had left them a long damn time ago — he couldn't give a flying royal shit about his own son — there was nothing. Only death. The only thing that was assured; the only thing that would bind them all together in one final act of inevitability.

To Sam, it isn't fair. Nor is it right. But it's his cold, harsh reality.

"I just wanted to see if it could have happened," Sam finally utters,"I wanted to see if maybe he wasn't just rambling on and on about how we could have a future together. I mean, he used to say that when everything was over, we were going to… try. To try and be something more, and now…"

"Sam," Castiel chokes out.

"You're the closest thing I've had to a friend, hell, to anything in a while, Sammy. I'm not planning on going anywhere."

Sam heard the angel's voice as if from far away, underwater. He couldn't breathe. Gabriel's words ran through his mind over and over, and he couldn't find an escape. His brother was mortal. His father figure was mortal. Everyone he could ever care about was either dead or bound to be dead.

They would die, and there was nothing he could do about it. Before, the thought haunted him, but he was content at the fact he would have at least one person to share it with. Gabriel; the man he loved. He had foolish dreams of them standing at the edge of the world, still holding hands as everything fell down. Of being together even in the empty.

Now those dreams were nightmares.

Alone.

Going mad.

Slaughtering.

Alone.

In his mind, the yellow-eyed demon that had haunted their family for decades was himself. He would linger forever, the new foggy yellow gaze in the night – he wondered if he could find the colt. Perhaps a couple rounds to the temple would do him in, then again with his all-around shitty luck he'd be one of the five creatures that couldn't be done in by "the gun that could kill everything, except what needs to be killed" as he liked to call it.

Sam. Argos states softly. Gabriel, he… he left something for you in a box… the box that is under your bed. And he wanted you to know… The dog's ears press down again, and he whimpers. That he loves you…

Sam Winchester was convinced that November 2nd would forever be a cursed date in the Winchester family. He'd lost his mother that day, only to lose his girlfriend on the anniversary years later, and now the man he loved was claimed by the curse… Never before had he craved death so much. Never before had he yearned for the sweet release to the point of madness.

Sam fell to his knees at the bedside and slid his hands underneath, pulling out a large wooden box. He runs his fingers down the side, before lifting the top off. Books. Dozens upon dozens of books. One top of the pile there's a hand-written note. He lifts it up and holds it closer for inspection.

Sam,

If you've found this note I will be dead, and the apocalypse has been averted. That means that everything his gone according to plan; my plan. You see, Sam, I haven't changed. I'm still the same greedy bastard I was the day we meet – The same that I've always been. This time, I was just greedy for someone else… you. I lied to you, Sammy, I've been lying since the beginning. The reason I knew about the apocalypse, is because I've lived it. In the end, I survived, but you didn't… not in the ways that counted.

Sammy, in my future, in my time, I didn't have a full grasp on my feeling for you. I think in my own sick, twisted way... I felt something for you because you're special, the one human I could ever feel a damn thing for. I just didn't realize it until you were already gone. Long story, short – I didn't like the way that things ended then, so I turned back the clock because I wanted to change the ending to my liking. All the smaller details will be explained in the books in the box, they're from my original time. I turned you into something that you're not, took away you're humanity because I was afraid to lose you again. As a cambion you had the power to kill Lilith and avert the apocalypse, but you were burdened with immortality… just as I had planned.

Everything that's happened, it has all been because of me. I couldn't give a flying royal shit about any other human, just you – You're all that mattered. As long as you lived in the end, anyone else, even me, didn't matter. Just you. The one thing that wasn't planned was the child that you're carrying now. I didn't think about it at first, the sickness, the loss of appetite, even the subtle softness in your abdomen. Not until I laid beside you one night and I felt him. Oops, spoilers. Well, yeah, it's a boy! I could just grab a new piece of paper, so I don't spoil it, but that would take too much effort.

He's a hybrid; a perfect mixture of both of us. He'll be something new, something no one else has seen before, but as far as I can tell he grows at the same rate as a human child. Though male pregnancies are rare, they are there, so do me a favor. Go find a nice doctor, take care of yourself, and take care of our kid. Since I won't be there to protect him, I need you to, Sammy. Just don't forget, there are still people with you that care about you – Hell, one of Cassie's biggest jobs in Heaven was caring for fledglings, so he'll make an awesome babysitter. It's not like he's got anything better to do. One last thing, I'm not going to ask you to forgive me. I don't regret what I did. That's a plan and simple fact. You lived, we're having a son, that's all that matters to me. And maybe, just maybe, one day… you'll join me in The Empty.

-Gabriel

Sam didn't even notice when Castiel came in the room with Argos at his feet. He didn't blink. He couldn't comprehend anything as the seraph skimmed his eyes over the letter. The cambion just fell into the angel's arms, when he was pulled into them. He cried into his chest unceasingly, hands clutching at his trench coat. He held him in silence, rocking him slowly as his tears soaked his chest.

A tiny lapse let him pull away, blinking lashes heavy with tears, before he collapsed again, his howls of misery worsening. The pain must have come in waves, minutes of sobbing broken apart by short pauses for recovering breaths, before hurling him back into the outstretched arms of his grief.

Argos barks. Oh, Sam. He settles against his master's side, a comforting presence.

"I believe congratulations are in order."

"Cas," Sam chokes out. Castiel is still awkwardly sort-of-hugging him, stiff as a board, looking at Sam with that odd little smile, "You can stop hugging me now. I'm fine… I just. God, I'm –"

"Pregnant," Castiel says," From what I've gathered on human customs, it's customary to congratulate an expectant parent."

Usually, Sam has a better grip on his emotions – Hormones.

Pregnant.

He was pregnant with Gabriel's child. A bouncing little boy. At that thought he allowed his crying to cease, he splayed his fingers over his stomach. Castiel trailed his eyes to Sam's fingers and his lips stayed perked ever so slightly into that maybe-smile. It was a pained smile; one hiding a wealth of pain, but it was a smile, nonetheless.

November 5, 2008

True to Gabriel's word, Castiel stays with him, adamantly refusing to leave. Sam stays in a rut for three damn days, until the seraph decides he needs to put his mourning on hold. He was pregnant, but he didn't even have a plan, hell, he hadn't even seen a doctor yet. Luckily, he'd learned to control the yellow filter over his eyes; that'd be a hard one to explain to the male-pregnancy doctor they were about to see. All he knew was that Gabriel managed to knock him up with a little boy, and it was his job to take care of it. Now, no matter how much he wanted to roll over and die, he couldn't because now he had someone depending on him.

Sam and sighed, flipping another page in the book he was reading. Supernatural: When the Levee Breaks because he had nothing better to do in the waiting room. He'd been trying to get through all the books as soon as possible, so he could at least have an inkling about what had happened in the other time… the one Gabriel lived through. It was weird, finding out that there was a prophet it there somewhere, authoring books about he and Dean. Sam wouldn't be surprised if new books, books about this new time, started popping up in bookstores.

"Sam," Castiel states, "Your brother, Dean, he's been praying to me for several days now. I've filled him in on all that's happened, excluding your pregnancy. I thought it would be best if you told him."

Sam sighs, and runs a hand over his face as he responds, "I-I don't think I will, Cas," At the seraph's look of surprise, he explains in a soft voice," Right now, I just… I think that I need some time apart from them. From everyone, so that I can stop my head together, figure what I'm going to do about – Well, everything."

"…I understand," Castiel states, "You need time."

"Don't tell anyone yet, okay?" Sam asks quietly," Especially not Dean. I need to do it myself."

"Of course not, Sam," Castiel assures, "It is not my place. Unbelievably, I am fully capable of keeping secrets."

The cambion huffs and lays back in his chair, "I know, Cas."

"Sam, do you remember the first time I met you?" Castiel asks, snapping Sam from his thoughts.

"Yeah," Sam says, "On the beach in Aruba."

"When I first held your hand in my own, I could feel the demon blood pumping through your veins, and I thought then that nothing good would ever come of you. But Gabriel wouldn't let me even think it for a single second," Castiel goes on to say, "Sam, you are the best of us, despite everything you've been through. I don't know how you do it, and I don't need to. That you can, and so effortlessly, is enough."

"What are you trying to say?"

The seraph states, "You're going to be a great father."

A nurse takes all of Sam's vitals and compliments on what a cute couple Sam and Castiel made. "Tall and short couples always make me giggle, especially when the tall one is the one that's… you know." Sam laughs and tells her that the seraph is just a friend, while the poor angel stands beside him with an extremely uncomfortable look on his face. She asks him when his last appointment was, and he tells her that he'd just found out he was pregnant. After she finished taking down all the information needed, she smiles and steps outside to get the doctor. Seconds later a middle-aged man steps in, her nose practically glued to the clipboard the nurse had been carrying.

"So, what brings you in here Mister… Wesson?"

"I-I'm pre-pregnant," Sam mumbles awkwardly.

The doctor looks up from the clipboard one eyebrow raised. "Pardon?"

"I think I'm pregnant," Sam says, a little louder. "I took one of those drug-store tests, and... yeah, you know."

The doctor asks about the symptoms he's been having, and then has him lie back on the examination table as he snaps on a pair of plastic gloves. Though it's thankfully a quick examination, it's still horribly awkward as he palpates his bared belly and makes humming noises before taking his temperature, listening to his heart, peering in his ears, all that stupid shit.

The doctor ties a tube above Sam's wrist making his superficial veins show. Then he cleans the area with a spirit swab. Carefully after inserting the needle, the doctor withdraws a small amount of blood from the suitable vein. Then he asked Sam to press a cotton plug at the puncture point. Castiel watched the entire process with fascination, before turning to the cambion.

The seraph whispers in his ear, "You know that are pregnant. Why are you being tested?"

"Cas, I know that I'm pregnant, but I don't know how far along I am. Plus, the doctor can help me set up a plan."

The doctor sends him on his way with about a dozen pamphlets, a vial-worth less of blood, and a throbbing headache. A day later he got a call with a confirmation of his pregnancy, as of he needed it, but he also learned that he was about three months along. The next appointment his due date was calculated to be April 5, 2009 and was reassured with a laugh that he'd start showing very soon. Castiel still hadn't left his side, and even went to every appointment with him.

"Well, Gabriel had a lot of money put away, like a lot," Sam says shuffling through some papers, "These aren't official documents by the way. They're treasure maps drawn in purple crayon on where to find little plots of buried gold, but if we can find it all… I won't have to work a day in my life. Of course, I still will because I need something to keep me busy. I'll go stir crazy – "

Castiel gently takes the map, and points out, "You shouldn't be straining yourself in any way, it's bad for the baby."

"Cas, look, you don't have to – "

The seraph holds up a hand and gently interjects, "Sam, I know that we don't know each other very well. Even when my brother was still alive, we didn't try to do so," He sighs softly, and sets a hand on the cambion's, "But, I still want to be here for you because my brother did love you. That I know for fact, and the child that you are carrying is his son, therefore my nephew. I will stay by your side Sam, through everything that you may go through. And afterward, if you still don't wish me to stay than I shall go. Even then, you'll never be alone because I will always be just a prayer away."

"Prayers are overrated," Someone snorts. Sam spins around only to be face-to-face with Crowley. A short woman with springy brown curls is standing beside him, most of her face hidden behind a gigantic fruit basket. "I believe congratulations are in order?"

Castiel starts, his eyes wide. "Crowley! How are you alive," The seraph says as he brings a protective a hand to the cambion's shoulder, bringing him close to his side. The cambion sighs at the protective gesture and gently shoves him off.

The demon rolled his eyes, and answered, "Please, Cassie, I know how to smoke out of a vessel. I did so before you smote the vermin I was possessing," He huffs and takes a seat," That crazy demon-bitch, Meg was about to serve my head on a platter for Lilith, so I had to go into hiding. Rather than just ask me, you two brutes chose to try and kill me! Meg almost killed Cecily, but luckily she also smoked out in time." He motions to the woman next to him.

Cecily sets down the fruit basket, and quickly turns on her heel, wrapping her arms tight around Sam's torso. Her free hands grip his ass tightly as she sighs, "It's a shame you're about to lose that perky little ass. Pregnancy tends to do that to people!"

Crowley sighs, "I'm surprised you tried to hide your...condition from your fellow flannel-cladded knobs."

"I wasn't hiding it from them. Honestly, I didn't know for certain until yesterday, which I think we can agree was bad timing," Sam says earnestly. Crowley does not agree, judging from the twitch of his eyebrow and the smirk he wears.

"Wait, so you didn't know, but now that you do know, you still haven't told those two lazy sods?" Crowley questions, "Even though, the little parasite is probably only going to be wiggling in there for a few more months."

"At any rate, the doctor thinks I'm about three months along, so I don't imagine I'll be feeling the baby move for a while yet," Sam says, "Wait, how did you - How do you anything about, any of this?" He sputters, running a tired hand over his face.

"Gabriel told me," Crowley snorts, "Obviously."

The cambion flinched at the name, but asks, "Everything?"

"Everything, darling," The demon responds, placing his hands in his pockets, "About this other future he lived, the real reason he wanted to stop the bloody apocalypse, even about the little bugger in your torso... How do you think I've been so helpful?"

Sam defensively puts a hand over his still flat belly as he sighs," Helpful? You've done a couple of things - "

"Don't you think it's a little convenient that not a single damn demon tried to intervene while you were protecting seals," Crowley spun a finger towards himself as he barks, "Me! I've been campaigning downstairs for a long time. Hell, I even managed to turn a respectable number of those bloody morons to my side."

Cecily smirks, and purrs, "Which is why you're looking at the soon to be King of Hell."

Chuck Shurley types away at his computer, sipping his drink.

Endings are hard. Any chapped-ass monkey with a keyboard can poop out a beginning, but endings are impossible. You try to tie up every loose end, but you never can. The fans are always gonna bitch. There's always gonna be holes. And since it's the ending, it's all supposed to add up to something. I'm telling you, they're a raging pain in the ass. Except, this isn't the end, is it? No, there is a story to be told still. Plot holes to fill. Characters to develop. Maybe even characters to bring back?

He grins and clicks 'save'.