AFTER THE STORM
PART 2: YOU MUST KNOW LIFE TO SEE DECAY

Raphael walked the grounds with slow strides once the flock disappeared behind the bricks. His bare feet crunched against leaves as he took in the Winchesters' home. How had this crumbling structure been deemed an acceptable nest for the fledgling? He would have to discuss plans for improvement with Gabriel as soon as things were settled.

In the meantime, Raphael inspected the treeline and clearing around the building. The space was filled with echoes of grace that sent shivers down his wings. Most were pleasant and he recognized his brothers' signatures. Smiling, he circled the fire pit. The flames danced over logs without consuming them and there were heated blankets strewn around—both had Gabriel's fingerprints all over them. There was a lot of joy in that spot.

But as he strode closer to the trees, he discovered a powerful scar freshly carved amid the nicer energies. Raphael knew of only one thing capable of damaging wavelengths and dimensions outside the ones humanity existed in. The Tear of God sat heavy alongside his archangel blade. It was the safest place for it to reside until the Healer could return it to Heaven. He was unsure if the humans who had wielded it were knowledgeable enough to do so safely or if everyone was miraculously lucky they hadn't demolished the continent in an ignorant misstep. Neither scenario sat well with Raphael.

Taking a deep breath of the brisk mid-day air, he stretched his senses out to exercise his renewed grace. Sparks of life, formed by the odd menagerie of human souls and angelic grace, shone bright from within the bunker. Waves of power poured off Gabriel in steadily increasing amounts as the minutes ticked by. It warmed Raphael to be reunited with the younger archangel. They had been as close as Michael and Lucifer once, and the Messenger's absence had devastated him. Still devastated him.

The patrol of angels circling high above the treeline caught Raphael's attention. He touched their minds and received a jubilant response from Michael's chosen guard. Their exuberance made him laugh.

A sudden surge of emotion and energy came from the bunker. Raphael immediately went on high-alert, and flew to the front entrance. Focusing on the source, he found Gabriel exuding massive amounts of grace and the fledgling in a frantic state. The Healer's blade dropped into his hand, taking the form of a silver staff.

Brother? Do you need assistance? he asked, preparing to fly to their side.

The second before he heard Gabriel's reply seemed infinite. No. Not yet. Sam panicked at something I said and almost hurt himself trying to escape. But I've doused him in warm fuzzies and he's calming down. Hold on.

Raphael wasn't sure he knew the phrase "warm fuzzies," but he understood the gist of what was said. He felt his brother's turbulent emotions through their bond, ruffling his grace like wind in leaves. He pushed back with a calm and strength that grew to ground the Messenger. Finally, he heard Gabriel again.

We're okay. Sam is talking, which is a huge step after these kinds of episodes.

Raphael frowned. Do they happen often?

Kinda.

Before he could ask another question, an angel from the patrol appeared in front of Raphael. "Sir, is...everything alright?"

"Zadkiel," Raphael voice rumbled and he smiled fondly at the angel of mercy, embracing him. Zadkiel tensed in his arms. The Healer sent a touch of grace to run over the soldier and felt him relax in relief. It settled something inside Raphael to have an angel react in a familiar way.

Zadkiel pulled away reluctantly, "Sir, there was a disturbance inside the building. We were unsure how to respond. Michael only told us to make certain no one approached this location."

"Did he tell you exactly who you were protecting?" Raphael's eyes twinkled.

"I know it involves the Winchesters and Gabriel and the cry that shook Heaven right before Michael's arrival. Is it..." Zadkiel broke off like he expected to be rebuked for asking questions, but at Raphael's nod he continued, "Is it true? There is a new fledgling?"

Raphael leaned against his staff, "It is true. And it is Samuel Winchester."

Zadkiel gasped, "How...how is that possible?"

"Our Father deemed it so. Samuel is unique—the boy's soul was bound with grace to heal damage from the cage. But he is still struggling. The people you are protecting him from held him captive. He was hurt. That is the disturbance you felt." Raphael was proud of the angel when it only took a moment for the implications to set in.

"A fledgling who carries memories and damage from Lucifer's cage? And he was hurt by humans? Forgive me, but why has he not been brought to Heaven? Surely it is safer for you to heal him there." His eyes looked over the ragged exterior of the Winchester home and his wings shifted in a display of frustrated discomfort.

Raphael's head tilted in curiosity. If some of the angels had managed to retain their compassion then perhaps Heaven wasn't as far gone as he'd feared. "You already accept him? Enough to brave questioning this decision?"

"I...Yes, I..." Zadkiel stuttered with confusion, "Are we not supposed to accept him? You did say God Himself deemed it so. Only He has the power to create new angels and restore the archangels to their full glory. Why should I not accept Samuel?"

Raphael openly studied the seraph. "The boy does not have a happy history with Heaven or the Host. You were told to consider him an abomination. Has that changed since my death?"

"Much has changed since your death, brother," Zadkiel answered slowly, "We have slaughtered each other, fallen to Earth, fought ancient forces. There has been an occasional peace between Heaven and the Winchesters, but it was always tentative and fleeting. Mostly, we avoid them. But," he broke off and turned his gaze to the woods, "there are many who admire Samuel's actions against Lucifer, even if they curse him for including Michael."

"And you?"

Zadkiel met Raphael's eyes. "I have never personally met Samuel Winchester, but I remember occasionally hearing his prayers."

That surprised Raphael—seraphs rarely heard the prayers of humanity unless their name was specifically mentioned. And most of their names were unknown to humans. "Really? How?"

"He often prayed for mercy, which was my jurisdiction. His prayers...they showed me a side I never heard described by others in the Host. And today, thanks to the Winchesters, I have seen both Michael and Raphael standing before me as I have not seen them since before Lucifer's fall. And I can feel Gabriel's presence once again."

Raphael nodded, pleased with Zadkiel's answer. "Well then, brother, as to why we have not moved Samuel to a better location—we learned our lesson during the Apocalypse. It is not wise to try and separate these brothers. I am certain Dean Winchester would storm our gates."

Zadkiel cringed at the thought. "Ah, yes, the Righteous Man. He sounds...interesting."

That made the Healer chuckle—"interesting" was a vast understatement. "He certainly is that." Raphael did a quick check on those inside the bunker. It appeared everyone had gathered in the same space again. The child was calm, almost asleep. "There are many reasons we are not rushing to remove Samuel. His human family is here, and they are very protective. But more importantly, Samuel does not trust us. We have given him no reason to trust us. He does, however, trust Castiel and Gabriel."

"That may upset some members of the Host. Many still regard Castiel as a traitor."

"He is not the only one to make mistakes that hurt Heaven," Raphael gave a sad smile, "And it is all the more reason Samuel should remain where he is now. The Winchesters, Castiel, and Gabriel are a flock. They are not to be separated."

Zadkiel stared at him in amazement, "Humans and angels have formed a flock? Together?"

Raphael nodded, "Yes. They have a strong bond. To remove Samuel would only upset him more."

"Upset him more?"

"The humans who hurt him—they burned his grace with holy fire. It caused his wings to try and manifest early. So far, he has refused my attempts to heal him. Gabriel believes the boy will allow me to work on him once he has rested." Raphael wasn't as confident, but then again Samuel had surprised him several times in the past several hours.

Amazement transformed into horror on Zadkiel's face, "They...what?! How old is he?"

"Almost midway through his third century."

"No," Zadkiel whispered as his wings rose in response, "How is it even possible?"

"I am not sure," Raphael admitted and guided the younger angel to walk with him. Now that the crisis had passed from within the bunker, he wanted to keep walking the perimeter. "It may be the presence of his human soul. Or possibly the pain and damage inflicted on his grace. He is unique."

"And powerful," Zadkiel added softly.

Raphael gave him a sharp look. "Explain."

"We felt the wave of grace that accompanied his cry. I have no memory of any angel, other than the archangels, who have resonated such strength," the seraph wrung his vessel's hands together, "Of course, I do not know much about fledglings other than what I remember from my own youth. I was in the last generation created until today."

The Healer's features softened when he heard no reservations or animosity behind the words, "Our Father used His own grace when reforming Samuel. You are correct—the child is very powerful. And I am hoping, after Michael and I have had time to work on Heaven's brokenness, that Samuel might be willing to visit the Host."

Zadkiel nodded and relaxed slightly, "That would be nice. I know I look forward to meeting him. And the return of three archangels is a victory worth celebrating." He smiled, broad and bright.

Raphael rested his hand on Zadkiel's shoulder and directed the younger angel toward a wooden bench. "Sit," he ordered, pushing him easily into the seat.

"Sir?" Zadkiel sounded alarmed.

"They are settling into sleep. Gabriel and Castiel are with the child. The patrol above us are alert, and it would take an invading army to stand a chance at trying to get past us all. You are a mess—just look at you," he tutted disapprovingly and ran his hands in broad sweeps down Zadkiel's back, "Are there no healers left in Heaven?"

Zadkiel made an undignified noise as Raphael's grace sifted expertly through his wings. "Y-yes, we still have healers. But they have not bothered with grace maintenance since before the Apocalypse."

Raphael's hands paused, "They stopped basic grace work before my death?"

"They stopped a few centuries before the Winchesters were born. I-We thought it was by your order. Since your death, many healers were killed in civil wars. The only work they can do is heal battle wounds—the few we have left are drained themselves."

"I was unaware my apathy went back that far," taking a shaky breath, Raphael continued his ministrations, "Well, that is one thing that will change when I return. There is no use bringing a fledgling to a place with no caretakers. We must ensure Heaven is a home worthy of its name."

Without another word, the Healer made quick work of adjusting the seraph's grace. There were old wounds left unattended that needed fixing as well as an abundance of blockages due to the emotional and spiritual stress that came with surviving several years of anarchy. It was easy for Raphael to fall back into his intended role when he had a willing patient. Humming to himself, he wondered what it would take to gain Samuel's trust.

Mary Winchester held her youngest son close to her chest as she sat on the sofa in their shared room.

She stayed mindful of where her arm touched his back and kept it high enough to avoid his shoulder blades. It seemed unreal to imagine wings sprouting from her son's bruised back, but she trusted the angels' warnings.

Dean flopped flat on his back across the largest bed, groaning as his muscles sank into the mattress. "Oh God, I think I could sleep for a week."

"That does not seem like a healthy amount of sleep," Castiel whispered.

"Quit being literal and take a damn nap," Dean grumbled with his eyes closed.

"I do not require sleep, Dean," Castiel shook out a blanket that sat folded across the end of the twin bed closest to him and laid it across the hunter, "But you and Mary do. Go to sleep. Gabriel and I will keep watch while you all rest."

Mary looked up to see Gabriel perch himself on the edge of the coffee table in front of her. "You look pretty tired too, Mary."

"I know," she sighed, brushing soft curls away from Sam's eyes, "I'm just not quite ready to put him down yet."

Gabriel smiled, "Yeah, I know the feeling. He's not usually a big cuddler, is he?"

Her eye's darted to Dean's blanket-covered form. He was the one Sam physically interacted with the most. The brothers were almost in constant sight of each other. It was easy to tell when Sam felt uneasy because he tended to curl his fingers around whatever item of Dean's clothing he could reach. She wondered if he'd done that as an adult too.

"He was an octopus as a kid," Dean's voice was muffled by the blanket and Mary wondered if he knew she was looking at him. "He was always wrapped around my leg or back or neck. He'd sit on my feet or shoulders and want me to walk with him there."

"Sam is not like that now," Castiel said as he sat on the twin bed next to Mary.

Dean snorted, "No shit. We stopped doing piggyback rides when he was nine. Besides, it would have been kinda awkward trying to fit a six-foot-four man on my shoulders. And I'm talking awkward on all levels—physical, emotional, social, probably even spiritual."

"I still can't picture him as an adult. I mean," she huffed a laugh, "I know there's an adult mind under this baby-face, but it's hard to remember unless you're listening to him talk."

The room was quiet for a second, then Dean spoke again in a softer voice. "He's totally different from how he was at this age. How he carries himself, how he moves, how he sits—it's all calculated and smaller. Six-year-old Sammy was a floppy, clumsy, talkative mess. He sprawled across beds and floors and me, and had no concept of personal space. But now," he rolled onto his side and propped himself up on an elbow to see them, "sometimes he acts like he's still a giant. Sam had a way of making himself smaller, less intimidating."

Mary's chest tightened as she pulled her boy close enough to breathe in the herbal scent of his hair. She tried to remember if she'd ever seen Sam move in any kind of carefree way. Children usually had an air of wild abandon as they learned to interact with the world. But Dean was right—Sam's movements were always calculated. She'd just assumed he'd been the same as a child.

"Hey," Gabriel whispered and laid a hand on her shoulder, "just you wait till he's healed up and learns how to use those wings and properly access his grace. Chances are we're all gonna have our hands full with a super-charged Sammy. Fledglings can't help it—there's too much joy in the discovery. And he'll feel like he's plugged into a sun's worth of energy. We'll be pulling him out of trees and off roofs and be patching up scraped knees for a while."

She smiled at the memory of that first picnic outside, cherishing the image of Sam sprinting away from Dean who pursued him with brotherly glee. Of course, seconds later had found everyone in a complete panic when Sam disappeared into the treetops. "I could do without the tree climbing. My heart may not be able to handle it."

"Don't worry," Gabriel patted her with a chuckle, "he'll have enough overbearing angels to intervene. And they'll all fight over who gets to kiss his boo-boos first."

"Why are you not including yourself in that description? Surely you would be leading such an effort and claim first-rights," Castiel deadpanned. Dean put the blanket back over his head and snickered.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Cassie," Gabriel said with a wink to Mary. Castiel merely hummed in response and gave his brother a knowing look.

"He's right," Mary said, "I mean, I know angels are supposed to protect their charges, but you seem a little...dedicated."

"And I think you're delusional from a lack of sleep," Gabriel teased. Then, he gave a long, dramatic show of yawning.

Mary couldn't stop the answering yawn from nearly unhinging her jaw. "Stop that!" she demanded when he instantly went into another and she felt herself respond again.

"I'm sorry," he yawned a third time, "what was that? You're not sleepy?" A fourth yawn followed.

Mary kicked him in the shin when she couldn't verbally reply. When she got her breath back, she had to admit defeat. Her eyes were growing heavier as her muscles were forced to relax. "Okay, okay, enough already. Should I lay Sammy down on a bed or are you taking him?"

Gabriel leaned forward and gently scooped Sam out of her arms. "I think Cassie deserves a turn," he said, "I need to go talk to Raphael. It's not a good idea to leave him out there on his own for too long. He's probably covered the yard in pillows. And bubble wrapped all the corners of the bunker. And built a safety fence around the fire pit."

Castiel looked startled but stood to take Sam from the archangel. "I would like a chance to talk with Raphael as well. Preferably before he enters the bunker or works on healing Sam."

Nodding, Gabriel placed the sleeping boy in his brother's waiting arms. Mary watched as she stood and stretched. She noted the lack of awkwardness, and marveled at how natural the younger angel was now at holding Sam. When had he lost that new-dad-panic he'd displayed early on?

"Raise your true temperature a bit. He rests a lot better if there's really warm grace to latch onto," Gabriel whispered as he fussed over them, "There you go. Here, sit down and I'll get a blanket."

"Oh yeah, I'm definitely delusional. You aren't dedicated at all." She skirted the pillow that suddenly swung her way. It missed her and hit Dean instead.

"Hey!" he grumbled loudly.

She glanced at Sam and saw him shifting against Castiel. The angel glared at Gabriel who had the decency to look apologetic. "Oops," he cringed.

Mary stifled a laugh and ended up yawning again. "Wake me up if you need anything or if something happens," she said as she climbed under the blankets. She was asleep before anyone could answer.

Gabriel grabbed the fleece blanket from the empty twin bed and tiptoed back to his scowling brother. He held up the blanket in surrender. Sorry, bro. Didn't mean to hit your hunter!

Castiel's frown grew deeper. He is not 'my' hunter. But Dean was correct earlier—it is very difficult to get Sam to sleep after rough events. He is often plagued with nightmares and insomnia for weeks. If he were to wake up, it could be a day or two before he sleeps again.

Gabriel slowed his movements and gently tucked the blanket around Sam's legs. Understood. I'm beginning to think the kid doesn't have a 'normal' sleep schedule. I keep waiting for him to stop having bad nights, but there's only been a couple that haven't ended in screaming.

Adjusting his arms around the blanket, Castiel lost the scowl and sighed. He sleeps best when he is near others. Hopefully, he will allow himself to remain with everyone in here at night.

I think we can get creative when it comes to making that happen. No one's going to be willing to let him return to his room any time soon. Myself included. Gabriel already had several plans for convincing Sam to stay in what was shaping up to be a humanized-nest space. Looking around the room, he started thinking about colors and lights and rugs. He had a safe-house dedicated entirely to storage. There were several tapestries that Sam would love...

Gabriel, what is a puppy pad? Castiel interrupted his thoughts of interior decorating.

What? Gabriel frowned in bewilderment at the change of topic.

A puppy pad. Dean told me I needed one, but when I asked he didn't answer.

Um, I think they're absorbent sheets you use to train dogs where to go to the bathroom. Or you put them in their crates in case they have an accident. Gabriel was smiling now. Why did he tell you that?

The blush on the seraph's face delighted Gabriel's inner big-brother. I may have gotten a little...exuberant...when Dean promised to get Sam a dog.

Gabriel's eyes widened in surprise. When was this?

This morning. Dean wanted Sam to open his eyes and when he promised a dog, Sam complied. I admit, I did not think it would work. But when it did, I was excited. The idea of an animal companion within the bunker is very appealing.

Oh sweet Dad, let me make a few calls later today. I know someone who can help us out. Don't let Dean do anything just yet, okay? His mind spun with possibilities.

What are you thinking, brother? Castiel's frown was back, and it was suspicious.

Gabriel scoffed and waved him off. Don't you worry, Cassie. I promise not to get him a hellhound. But he's unique kid—he deserves a unique pup. One that can keep up with a fledgling.

Gabriel...

Do you really think I would give something dangerous to Sam? He looked seriously at Castiel and saw the seraph relax.

No, of course not. But you may wish to mention it to Dean and Mary before choosing without their input.

Good idea, he agreed as he stood straight. I'm gonna go talk to Raphael. We need to strategize on what to do with these poor wings. Gabriel winced at the seared tendrils swirling within the buds. The grace was raw and exposed. They had to be fixed soon—preferably before something happened to hurt them further. The sight sickened him. Sam should never have experienced such violence. No one should.

Do you know what you will do? Can the process be reversed until they naturally manifest? Waves of worry flowed through their bond as Castiel turned anxious eyes on him.

I'm not really sure, Cas. This type of thing is beyond my experience. But I'm sure between all of us we will figure something out. He wished he could reassure his brother better, but he honestly wasn't sure the best course of action. Healing wasn't his area of expertise. Do you need anything before I go?

Castiel shook his head and melted more into the cushions. No. I will call you if he wakes up before you return.

Call me if you even think he may wake up, okay? After the incident in the bathtub, Gabriel was loathe to let Sam out of his sight. Too much tended to happen too quickly around the Winchesters.

Castiel's eyes narrowed. Does something specific concern you?

Damn, but baby bro was getting too good at being perceptive. Gabriel chewed his lower lip. We don't know what can trigger him right now. He went from calmly sitting in the bath to a blind panic in less than a blink. All I did was suggest using the shower head to wash his hair after the bath to keep his back dry. I have no idea what part of that upset him, but I suspect it has to do with those British bastards. Until Sam tells us, we won't know what else could possibly set him off...or how he'll react. I'd rather be here in case his grace goes wild.

I understand, Castiel nodded. Go, talk to Raphael. I will call you if he stirs.

Gabriel smiled in thanks and slipped out into the hall. The bunker was dark and silent. He felt the slumbering minds of the other humans as he passed closed doors. Emerging into the brighter light of the midday sun, he slowed his steps. Part of him was ecstatic to see his older brothers and bursting with hope for being a family again. But Gabriel still had doubts.

Michael certainly seemed like his old, glorious self when he'd helped guide them through reentry. But anyone can appear a literal God-send when they swoop into the midst of crisis and save the day. It would take time for Gabriel to know whether or not the change was permanent. Raphael, however, was a different story.

Since the beginning, Michael and Lucifer had revolved around each other as equal and opposite forces. Raphael assumed his role as the stabilizing rock within the trio, and tried to temper their intensity. When Gabriel came along, the two youngest archangels naturally bonded. But where Michael and Lucifer were a clash of fire and ice, Raphael and Gabriel were steady earth and the rush of air.

Gabriel stopped at the corner of building and nervously blew out a breath. Looking back, their relationship seemed like it shouldn't work. Their dance was not the polarizing spin of their older brothers. Raphael was eternal patience and slow study of creation's intricacies. Gabriel embodied a hummingbird's need for constant movement, darting from one event or idea to another, always feeding his insatiable curiosity. They had their own balance—their own song.

But that was centuries ago. Did they still remember how? Gabriel had been flying without a tether for a long time while the Commander and Healer of Heaven hardened themselves in the absence of their favored siblings. And that didn't even touch Lucifer's transformation since his fall. They may never all regain their previous relationships and bonds.

Walking around the building, he followed the familiar hum of the Healer's grace and found Raphael grooming another angel on their picnic table. The bizarre sight broke through his melancholy and pulled a laugh out of him. It only grew louder when the sound made the poor seraph jump. Raphael held their younger brother still with his grip and sent Gabriel a disapproving look. The familiarity of it made his vision swim.

"Gabriel?" the angel's grace lit up.

"Zadkiel? Is that you?" Gabriel smiled warmly as he blinked away tears. He had always admired the angel of mercy and compassion. Zadkiel just nodded, almost incapable of speech. Gabriel turned to his older brother and saw love behind the stern expression. He felt safe enough to grin and teased, "Raphael, did you get antsy waiting and call someone down to groom?"

Raphael raised his eyebrows and Gabriel knew he was in trouble. Sure enough... "Mind your tone, Gabriel. You will have your turn," he pointed a long bony finger at Gabriel and scoffed, "Lecturing me on impatience! Do not think I have forgotten your reckless flight this morning. Hurdling yourself toward the Earth with a seraph clinging to you with no more mind than the fledgling you wanted to save. I have seen your wings—you have no room to talk."

"Yikes," Gabriel muttered under his breath. He hadn't been scolded in forever. It felt wonderful.

"I can still hear you," Raphael's deep voice echoed through the clearing. He patted Zadkiel's back, "You may return to your patrol, brother. Tell the others I shall see them soon. I want all members of the guard operating at their best, and I suspect they are in need of similar maintenance."

Zadkiel stood and gave a short bow to Raphael. Instead of dismissing him, Gabriel watched as the Healer pulled the seraph into a tight embrace. The sight sent a delighted cloud of butterflies fluttering through his grace. This was the Raphael he remembered—the one who cared enough to let each of their siblings know they were cherished.

When they pulled away, Zadkiel hesitantly stepped toward Gabriel. Relief swept over him and he hugged the angel fiercely. Their graces brushed and it felt like home. He ignored the moisture on his cheeks as he gave a laugh and choked out, "Missed you, little brother."

"I have missed you too, Gabriel. Will you be returning to us as well?"

"Right now, I have a charge to care for here. But I am not in hiding, and I plan to visit frequently once things are more stable." He held Zadkiel at arms' length, keeping his hands on his shoulders and looking him in the eye. "You are on the patrol sent by Michael? Good, I am glad he picked you. If you need anything or see anything, let me know immediately. The fledgling and the humans are our priority-if I should leave these grounds for any reason without telling you, assume the worst and protect them."

"Of course, brother," Zadkiel nodded his understanding, "It is an honor to guard your flock."

Gabriel's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He looked at Raphael and saw a hidden smile. Returning his gaze to Zadkiel, Gabriel stammered, "I—yes, thank you." Zadkiel gave another bow and flew away.

Raphael and Gabriel stared at each other, looking past the human vessels to inspect their true-forms. It was Raphael who broke the silence. "How long have you been back?"

Gabriel blinked. That was unexpected. "Um, I've been with the Winchesters for about two weeks. I spent several decades with Dad before that. You?"

"Couple centuries with Father. Michael and I were on our way to Heaven when we heard Samuel." He frowned and stepped closer, "You left Father's presence only two weeks ago?"

It was a struggle to not move away. "Yes. Why?"

"Did you do all this damage in your flight this morning?" There was no admonishment in his voice this time, only concern.

Gabriel brought one of his wings around to inspect. He winced at the frayed and ruffled sight. Looking sheepishly up at Raphael, all he said was, "Oops?"

The Healer gave a long-suffering sigh and trailed his fingers through the wing. Gabriel gasped as the presence of familiar grace bloomed along the touch and his knees gave out. Raphael caught him in long, willowy arms and gathered him close.

Suddenly, the weight of everything crashed over him—returning to life, learning of all that had transpired since his death, the stress of dealing with Sam's unique situation, and the terror of being thrown from the galaxy by human hands. His body shook with it all, and he didn't realize he'd been mumbling everything out loud until Raphael's low humming broke through the din.

Opening his eyes, Gabriel almost sobbed from the shared joy he found reflected back on his brother's lined face. "I am so sorry, Raphael." He wasn't sure which transgression he was apologizing for—he was sorry for a great many things.

"I am sorry as well," wrinkled fingers wiped away a stray tear from Gabriel's cheek, "I fear if I were to list all the wrongs I have done in your absence that I would be confessing for years."

"Maybe we can skip that part for now, then, and focus on how fucking happy I am to see you again. Because I am...so fucking happy." Gabriel buried his face in the embroidered tunic covering Raphael's vessel. It grounded him in a way he hadn't experienced in too long.

"I am greatly pleased to see you too," Raphael rumbled and wrapped wings around the shorter archangel.

Healing energy poured into Gabriel and he realized what Castiel and Sam meant when they claimed he was overdoing it. He felt instantly buzzed and he floated on the sensation until he remembered there were other things besides past mistakes to discuss. Giggling into Raphael's shirt, he reluctantly pulled away. "Okay, enough. I cannot be grace-drunk right now, although I am absolutely inviting you to the next party," he shook his head to clear it, "We need to discuss Samuel."

Raphael nodded and stepped back. "How is he?"

Scrubbing at his face, Gabriel jumped onto the picnic table and sat down. He ignored the strange look from Raphael. "At the moment, he is asleep. His physical injuries should be done healing by this evening."

White wings shifted in surprise. "Why so long?"

"His body is not a traditional vessel. This is not a human/angel cohabitation. Nor did Father create a separate vessel for him to enter as He did for you, Michael, and Castiel. As far as I can tell, Samuel's grace reformed his body itself as another aspect of his true-form. I am unsure how it will react to invasive healing attempts."

Raphael frowned at the news. "And what about the boy's other injuries?"

"His grace and wings? Those are another matter." He let out a shuddered breath. "I have no idea what to do. His grace tried to cook him alive on the ride home. We think they held Samuel in freezing conditions and his system is still acting on instinct trying to keep him warm. So far, it only responds to me or Castiel heating our own graces. Not a long-term solution."

The Healer looked thoughtful. "Will he allow me to examine him?"

Gabriel shrugged. "I honestly do not know. There is a good chance he will if the rest of us are present. It helps that he does not associate you with any personal torment," he smiled sadly, "It took a while for him to trust me when I first got here. And he still has moments where his doubts overwhelm his trust."

"How was he before the kidnapping?"

"I showed you everything I have seen and heard since returning to Earth."

"True, but observing an experience does not mean I have your understanding of the situation. I am missing the insight of your thoughts." Raphael insisted with a nudge.

Gabriel felt his cheeks warm—it had been a lifetime since his opinion was sought after by another archangel. The thought over his answer carefully. "Before the kidnapping, we were already dealing with daily anxiety attacks brought on by Samuel's new grace processing old memories, nightmares ending in screams, and grace-surges powerful enough to electrocute his human family. He easily gets trapped in memories and has trouble distinguishing present reality from the past. You will find him digging into his palm or scratching at skin—it is a behavior he learned to use when dealing with hallucinations of Lucifer."

Raphael nodded. "I witnessed Samuel exhibit such behaviors this morning. I did not realize the significance of the gesture."

"We have learned to look for it or else he continues until there is damage," he scrubbed at his face in frustration, "These boys have a lot of issues. Most of them are rooted in their total and compete lack of self-worth—like they are only as good as their ability to sacrifice for others. I fear that will continue until they are convinced otherwise." Gabriel tried not to imagine all the scenarios a self-sacrificing Sam Winchester could get himself into once he'd mastered flight. Maybe Dean was right about them needing a kid harness.

"Sacrifice? You mean their lives?" Raphael seemed startled.

Gabriel huffed, "Oh yeah! Do you know how many times they have died for each other or the world? More times than should be possible—believe me. It grew worse after the Apocalypse, and Castiel is in the same boat. All three of them are constantly trying to die, like it is some kind of competition!"

"They are suicidal?"

"Not suicidal in the traditional sense—at least, not that I have seen. But if the right situation were to arise, I guarantee one of them would take it. They consider themselves expendable. I am unsure how long Castiel has been this way, but the boys were trained into their mindset from childhood." Gabriel scuffed his toes against the bench in frustration.

Nodding, Raphael continued his questions. "What else?"

"What else besides suicidal tendencies and a fleeting grasp on reality?" Gabriel sighed, then thought of some of the more positive things he'd learned since joining the Winchesters. "Well, Samuel gets lost in research far too much to be healthy, and you must watch him closely or he will forget to eat. Castiel is teaching him Enochian and we have been trying to create positive associations to it for him. I can tell you that he loves to be groomed if you keep your touch soft and slow and talk him through it. And if all else fails, show him your wings."

Raphael stared at him as though waiting for a punchline. When nothing followed, he dropped his shoulders and rubbed the back of his neck. He joined Gabriel on the wooden table, leaning their shoulders together as he spoke in a deep rumble. "That is a lot to deal with alone, even for an archangel like yourself."

Gabriel felt his vessel jerk as it tried to shrug and nod and hunch over all at once. He coughed to cover the awkward moment, and it only made the feeling worse. "I guess. It has not been the easiest couple of weeks, but..." he paused, not sure how to express the thought, "But they have been the best days of my entire existence." Tears threatened to close his throat and he coughed again. "I have been without a true flock since I left. I have had families—people I loved and spent decades around—but this is different."

"They are your flock. You are bound by grace and love."

"Yeah. When I left, I put my grace on lock-down to become Loki. I lived and loved as Loki. Now, I am Gabriel again. And I have the best of both worlds—angels and humans. I belong to both." He chanced a glance at Raphael, to see his reaction. It surprised him to find the Healer nodding along as though Gabriel's words were some sort of confirmation.

"What better way to fulfill your role as Father's Messenger than to be a conduit between Heaven and Earth?

Gabriel scrunched his face in confusion. "I—I guess?"

Raphael smiled, "We shall discuss this more later. For now, let me just say how pleased I am to see you, alive and happy."

The words melted his confusion away, leaving only contentment. Resting his head against Raphael's shoulder, Gabriel marveled at the truth of his statement. Despite all that had happened, he was alive and happy. And sometimes, that was enough.

Castiel raised his grace's temperature another degree and held his breath as Sam shifted restlessly. Their first half hour had been peaceful, the boy's body boneless with deep sleep. But then he started to fidget, his grace lighting up with tiny static charges. It wasn't enough to wake him, and so far the increased heat had kept the grace from growing dangerous.

Gabriel, I do not think Sam will stay asleep much longer. His grace is unsettled, Castiel tried to keep the worry out of their bond, but knew he'd failed when Gabriel appeared in front of him.

The archangel crouched down and studied Sam's back. Leaning closer, he sniffed them several times. The burn-smell is stronger. And there's more grace pushing out back here. It looks like it's trying to get rid of the damaged parts.

Fear made Castiel's own wings flare before he pulled them into place and focused. What do we do?

Gabriel wiped at his mouth and stared back with wide eyes. I think we need to take him to Raphael.

No! Castiel stopped him, then rushed to explain, Wake Dean and Mary first, and bring Raphael here. Sam would not want to be separated and forced to endure healing from a virtual stranger.

Good plan. Gabriel stood and walked over to the hunter's shoulder, he said, "Dean. Dean, wake up."

Dean woke with a start and scrambled for the knife he usually kept under his pillow. Luckily, the angels kept the communal bedroom weapon-free. His head swung around until it landed on Sam in Castiel's arms. Blinking a few times, he turned to Gabriel. "What's wrong?"

"I need to get Raphael—Sam's burn has to be looked at now. Here," Gabriel tapped Dean's forehead, "This will wake you up. You'll still have to sleep later, but right now I need you awake and alert." The archangel quickly went and repeated the process with Mary. As soon as the humans were up, he returned to Castiel. "Just keep him warm and as settled as you can. I'll go get Raph." He was gone before Castiel could blink.

Dean and Mary sat in the chairs across from Castiel as he increased his temperature a few more degrees. Sam whimpered in his sleep and clenched his eyes. Both Winchesters leaned forward in their seats.

"What's going on, Cas?" Dean quietly asked.

"I'm not really sure," Castiel whispered, "He was sleeping fine, and then his grace became restless. I have been trying to let him sleep as long as possible, but it won't last."

Footsteps sounded through the hallway. Gabriel appeared at the door, followed closely by Raphael. Castiel bit down the stream of words he wished to say at the sight of the Healer—it would have to wait. Gabriel turned on the lights with a gesture and resumed his crouch next to Sam. The boy was now groaning and turned his head away from the light.

"He's not awake yet?" Gabriel asked, reaching out to pull Sam's hair back. Not waiting for an answer, he tilted Sam's head so they could see his face. He continued in a gentle but insistent voice. "Sam? Sammy. Come on, kiddo. I know you don't feel good. Come on, Sam."

Sam's eyes blinked against the bright overhead lights. Squinting, he tried to focus on the archangel's face. "Gabe?" he said, disoriented. A tiny spasm in the boy's grace had Sam hissing in pain.

"Easy there," Gabriel smiled, but Castiel felt his anxiety. "I think we're gonna have to look at those wings now, Sammy."

Sam's body tensed against Castiel. Small hands grasped at the collar of the trench coat to try and sit up. Castiel guided Sam to the seat beside him. Breathless from the pain of moving, he faced the room and took in each face. When he reached Raphael, Sam froze.

Castiel looked to Gabriel in his uncertainty. The archangel moved to perch on the edge of the table, blocking Raphael from Sam's view. "Look at me, Sam. Are you with me? It's okay."

Sam gave a stilted half-nod and leaned to the side to keep sight of the other archangel. "I'm fine," he sounded hoarse, "Why can't you and Cas do it?" The "without Raphael" came through loud and clear without being voiced.

"Because I have no experience healing holy fire burns. It's complex work that takes a specialist. I can help in the process, but Raphael is the only one who knows how to do it." Gabriel reached for Sam's hand, but the boy wrenched it away and scooted back in his seat. Castiel's arm darted out to grasp the bare shoulder before it could press into the cushion.

Sam opened his mouth to protest, but slammed shut again when another spasm hit. His whole body shook, trying to ride it out. "Breathe, Sam," Castiel said, calmer than he felt. He shifted his hand to the boy's neck and soothed the rigid muscles. Using the grip to keep Sam leaning forward away from the sofa, he got a clear look at the twitching grace. It was pushing itself further out in jarring spurts.

Taking a deep breath, Sam looked at Castiel. "I'm fine," he said through clenched teeth and tried to push the hand off his neck.

Releasing him, Castiel frowned anxiously, "You are in pain, Sam. It—"

"I'm fine," he snapped, "I don't need to be kept in place!"

Silence fell on the room. All Castiel could do was stare open mouthed at Sam. There was an undercurrent of rage in the fledgling's voice, fueled by layers of fear and pain.

A throat clearing made both Sam and Castiel jump. Dean stood up from his chair and shoved Gabriel to the other end of the table, then sat in his place. The hunter never looked away from his brother.

"Sam," Dean started, but the boy cut him off.

"No."

"Sam..." he sighed.

"No!" Adamant.

"Sam." Reproachful.

"No." Jaw clenched tight.

Another sigh.

"No." Still firm.

"Please?"

Sam paused. The two continued the fight silently, locked in a battle of wills and stares. Eventually, Sam's shoulders dropped and he looked down at his knees. "I'm tired," he whispered brokenly.

Dean's face paled. He leaned forward, elbows on knees, and exhaled slowly. "I know, Sam. I know, and I'm sorry."

There was a conversation taking place under their words that Castiel could not hear. Whatever it was seemed vitally important and he felt more unnerved with each exchange. A glance around the room proved he wasn't the only one on edge. Mary and Raphael both looked confused while Gabriel was definitely verging on upset.

Laying a hand on Gabriel's knee, Castiel silently asked, What is it?

Gabriel's eyes swirled with gold as they turned to him. Gadreel.

Oh, he replied. Then his thoughts caught up to him and he understood the implication. Oh! Devastation rocked him. "Tired" meant more than exhausted. It meant a soul-deep weariness from constant battle and pain. It meant he didn't know how to keep going.

Yeah. Gabriel covered Castiel's hand with his own as they continued to watch the brothers.

The minutes ticked by in silence until Dean slowly held his arms out. Sam looked up and frowned. He seemed in an internal debate for a moment. Then, the boy reluctantly reached back and allowed himself to be pulled into Dean's lap. He sat facing away from the rest of the people in the room. Castiel saw the muscles relax one-by-one as Sam gradually sagged against the hunter's chest.

"I'm sorry I didn't understand," Dean finally said in a low voice meant only for Sam's ears, "It will never happen again." Sam's spine straightened at the words, and Castiel saw his grace twitch. A hiss of pain escaped through surprised lips and Dean's right hand started massaging along Sam's lower back. "I promise, Sam. And I asked Cas and Mom to hold me to it."

"Why?" Sam whispered.

"Because I didn't get it. I didn't want to get it. Cas helped me to see what I'd missed—what I did to you. And I never...I never want to...I can't do that again. Ever." It took several attempts, but when Dean finally got the words out Castiel felt more proud of his friend than ever before. Including all the times he'd saved the world. Gabriel's fingers squeezed his hand.

Sam was quiet. Castiel could see the boy's feet hanging on the other side of Dean's legs. The sock-covered foot kept rubbing along the exposed freshly grown skin of the right sole. He hoped it wasn't a new version of the "palm dig maneuver" Sam used.

With a heaving sigh, Sam twisted in place to better face his brother. "And if I say no?"

Dean's breath caught audibly and he had to swallow before he could speak. "Then the answer is no. But I don't know what happens to grace when wounds go unhealed. All I'm asking is that you at least hear us out before you decide. Things are different this time."

"How?" Sam demanded, glancing out of the corner of his eye at Gabriel and Raphael.

"Sam," Dean said softly and waited for his brother to meet his gaze, "Everything is different. No tricks, no deals. You know what is happening, and it's your decision. Why don't you ask some questions and find out your options first?"

Sam thought about it until another spasm spurred him into answering with a nod. "Fine. I'll listen."

The air left Dean in a rush and he curled forward to rest their foreheads together. "Thanks, Sammy," he murmured and took in a shaky breath, "How about we sit on the couch so we can see everyone again?"

Castiel watched Dean stand and turn, sitting back down next to him on the sofa. Hazel eyes stared at him with a mixture of regret and reservation. The seraph offered a smile, hoping to ease the emotional turmoil brewing there. "Sorry," Sam said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"It is alright, Samuel. I did not mean to upset you." The boy shrugged it off, but Castiel made a note to revisit the issue when they weren't in a crisis.

Dean cleared his throat, "Okay, Gabriel. Lay it on us. What are our options?"

"Right," Gabriel said, sitting up and rubbing his hands together, "So, we can do nothing like you asked. But Dean is right—everything about this is different. You are not dying, Sam. If you decide you don't want healing then the wound will fester. It might spread to slowly affect other parts of your grace. Or it may try to eventually heal itself. However, we are talking years—decades or more. The surges you were having before all this happened would probably get worse, and the injuries will keep you from being able to control it."

Sam made a choked noise in his throat and clasped the bottom hem of Dean's t-shirt. He moved to face the archangel fully, hunching his shoulders as though preparing for a blow. The hunter resumed rubbing his knuckles along his brother's lower back. "And healing?" Sam managed to grind out.

"Raphael needs to examine you first. Then, he would explain what he thinks is the best course of action. You decide when and where and who you want present."

The boy looked at Raphael and the air in the room thickened uncomfortably. A sock-covered toe tapped against the bare sole and Castiel winced. They would really have to monitor that.

Suddenly, a small static spark arced down one unformed wing and jumped to Dean. "Ah!" both brothers yelled in shock and pain. Gabriel grabbed Sam by the waist and picked him up, moving them to the far side of the room with two sets of wings walling off any additional surges. Castiel took Dean's hand and quickly inspected the blistered skin

"What the hell was that?!" He tried to pull his hand back in panic but Castiel held it firmly.

"It was Sam's grace," he said in a low tone, trying to convey the need for calm. He had to drastically lower his own grace's temperature back down to normal, then made it even cooler to help the healing. The effect was immediate—Dean's arm went lax in his grip and the man sighed in relief. They watched the skin return to normal while Castiel explained, "The wound hurts and it's angry."

"His grace is angry because it's hurt?" Dean asked.

"Angry because it knows other angels are nearby and it's being ignored," Castiel clarified, looking up to see Gabriel whispering explanations to the confused boy. He felt Sam's distress at the realization that he'd hurt Dean. Castiel rushed to finish explaining, "An infant's instinct is to cry out if it needs something—food, changing, warmth. Fledglings are the same. Sam's grace has grown used to me and Gabriel interacting with it, and now it needs our attention."

Dean nodded toward their brothers, "And he's freaking out because I got hurt." It wasn't a question. The hunter stood and moved closer, keeping the king bed between them. "Sam, I'm fine. See?" Gabriel turned so Sam could see Dean who held up his hand to show unblemished skin. The hazel eyes shined bright with tears but his cheeks were dry. "See? I'm fine. Relax dude."

Sam stared at the hand before turning to Gabriel. "That will keep happening? Because of the burn?"

"Yeah, it will," Gabriel answered solemnly, "I'm sorry, kiddo."

The boy heaved in a breath and said, "Okay then. I guess R-Raphael should take a look."

"You're sure?" the archangel asked.

Sam didn't look sure, but he was making a strong effort to appear confident. "Yes. I can't go around accidentally electrocuting my family. I'm nervous and stubborn, not homicidal."

"Alright. Is here okay or do you want to go out by the bonfire?"

"Here's fine," Sam muttered as his false confidence faded.

Gabriel held him close and sat on the bed. "Okay. Let's get comfortable. Do you want to sit or lay down?" The only response was a small shrug.

Raphael walked over to them and gently brushed his fingertips against the fledgling's arm. "Hello again, Samuel."

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