TEACH YOUR CHILDREN
Part 11: And Feed Them on Your Dreams
TW: DISCUSSIONS OF CHILD ABUSE
Sam gaped at the man in the Garden.
Clad in his usual trucker cap, flannel, and vest, Bobby stood out among all the angels. "I remember you bein' a bit bigger last I saw ya," he said with a grin.
"Bobby, you're here," Sam said, dumbfounded.
"Well, I sure as hell ain't in Hell anymore. Did gettin' shrunk mess with your memories? 'Cause you're the dumbass who traipsed down below to bust my soul free." Bobby studied him closely, narrowing his eyes as he walked up to them.
Sam's vision of his father figure blurred, washed away in tears of joy. He reached tentatively for him, wondering if his fingers would pass through the flannel shirt and red vest like an apparition. Could he touch a soul?
"Go ahead," Gabriel encouraged.
Sam's fingers met the solid, familiar fabric of Bobby's clothes and curled tightly around the vest collar. Tears ran freely down his cheeks as he laughed. He never thought he'd see this man again, let alone touch him.
"Hi'ya, kid," Bobby said softly. He covered Sam's hand with his own and looked him over in awe.
"Bobby," Sam breathed. He twisted in Gabriel's arms, clamoring for the hunter with his other hand.
"Whoa there! Okay. Gimme a second!" Gabriel transferred him to Bobby, keeping a hand against his back.
A tingly rush of emotion ran over Sam's skin. The feeling remained after Gabriel dropped his hand and moved a few feet away with Raphael to give them some sense of privacy. It was hard to think around the cloud of feelings in his mind and chest.
"You okay, Sam?" Bobby asked quietly. He wiped the tears from Sam's cheeks with deep-lined knuckles.
"Yeah. I…I think so." Sam tried to reassure him with a smile.
Bobby frowned. "What are you doin' up here, kid? From what we heard over the radio, this wasn't a planned visit."
"I flew here…by accident," Sam said, taking a shaky breath, "in my sleep."
"You boys never could do things the easy way, could ya?" Bobby muttered. "But you're okay? You get hurt?"
Sam shook his head and glanced at the archangels. The tightness in his chest relaxed when he saw them. "I'm good. Raphael fixed me up."
"Bein' fixed up doesn't sound like you weren't hurt." Bobby turned Sam's face with a finger against his chin. "Was it the flyin' or did something happen when you got here?"
Sam saw fire in Bobby's eyes and finally managed a genuine smile. "Mostly the flying. I'd only managed a couple feet around the yard back home. Crossing dimensions was a bit much on my… wings. Plus, I may have freaked out once I got here but no one hurt me."
He realized as he said it that it was true. Not a single angel, including Michael, had hurt him during all their scuffles. Even the wing binding, while terrifying, had not been painful. Everyone had done their best to be exceedingly gentle with him—and he'd electrocuted and stabbed them in return. Great first impressions, he thought wryly.
"Then why you look like you're suckin' on a lemon?" Bobby asked with a scowl.
"I, uh, may have accused them all of kidnapping me. And then electrocuted them with my grace, including Michael. And stabbed one of them." Sam winced.
Bobby's eyes went wide. "Well, that sounds like a terrible way to wake up."
Sam huffed a laugh and leaned forward. He took a deep breath. Familiar smells flooded his senses and suddenly, it felt like he'd just stepped through the door of Singer's Salvage again—cheap whisky, motor oil, lemon mechanic's soap, and kitchen herbs. Home.
"I missed you, Bobby," he murmured, pushing his nose closer against the man's neck.
"I missed you too, Sam. So damn much." Bobby tightened his arms around Sam and swayed in place, each lost in the moment. Then, he cleared his throat. "Your archangel's givin' me the stink eye, so I'm guessin' we don't have much time. Impatient feller, ain't he?"
Bobby's eyes shifted toward the archangels and Sam's gaze followed. Raphael was at least trying to give them the illusion of privacy by facing out over the field away from them. He had an arm slung over Gabriel's shoulder in casually calm restraint. But Gabriel was staring straight back at Sam with open concern.
"He's not always like this," Sam said, holding up a finger to ask for another minute.
"Not always like a new daddy who's watchin' a stranger handle their kid?" Bobby smirked.
Sam whipped back around in horror, pressing his hands against the hunter's bearded mouth and wishing he could push the words back past his lips. "Oh my God, Bobby," he whispered fiercely, "why would you say that!? Eww! I can't believe…You know he can hear you, right?"
"Pretty sure he can hear you too," Bobby mumbled around Sam's hands.
"Yes, he can!" yelled Gabriel. "And the correct term is 'Flock Leader' or 'Flock Alpha,' not 'daddy.' Let's all try and remember that, please." The archangel shuddered.
"Oh God!" Sam buried his blazing face in Bobby's vest. He felt the old hunter chuckle at his pain and tried to kick him with bare feet.
"Hey now, no kicking!" Bobby dug two fingers into the top of Sam's knee. His aim was perfect, causing Sam to gasp out a squeal and jump on reflex.
"Damn it, Bobby," Sam grumbled, rubbing his knee.
"Don't you 'damn it, Bobby' me, boy!" The hunter laughed, crushing him in another hug and whispering in his ear, "Now, listen. We ain't got much time before you're gonna go home. So, tell me," he turned so his back was to the archangels, "do you trust them?"
Sam nodded against his shoulder.
Bobby leaned back, his eyebrows raised. "You didn't even think about it."
Sam rubbed a hand over his arm. His skin still tingled from the grace Gabriel had placed around him. "I-I can't explain it, Bobby. But with everything that's happened this past month or so? Yeah, I trust them. They saved me. They've taken care of me and Dean and…and Mom. Oh, Bobby—Mom's back!"
"I know, Sam." Bobby grinned but there was an edge of sadness.
"That's right. Raphael said you knew her up here. You must miss her now. I'm sorry." Sam bit his lip.
"You stop that." Bobby pulled Sam's chin down gently until his lip was released. "Don't go fussin' on my account. You boys need your momma more than I do. It's only right you get to know her. Now, I want you to do me a favor."
Sam nodded, eager to do anything for his father figure. "Of course! Just name it."
"I've known you since you were an itty-bitty thing, smaller than this," Bobby hoisted Sam up in his arms, "and there were times when you let yourself just be Sam. Like when you'd sit with me on the couch and watch shows or let me read to you. Or when you boys got older and you'd call me just to talk for no good reason. But then there were times when you were a Winchester."
Sam's stomach clenched. He shook his head but couldn't find the words to say. His hands tightened on Bobby's vest.
"Don't shake your head at me. It took a year of coming to my house before you'd start eatin' the food I'd set in front of ya. Just completely ignored it and waited for Dean to fix you something. And once I got you boys back in my life, there were times when you'd decide to go at things alone because it was 'too dangerous' for anyone not a Winchester and I'd be left waitin' by the phones. Again. All I'm sayin' is—give yourself time to just be Sam for a while, okay? Because it sounds like you got a good thing goin'."
"Bobby, we never meant… I didn't…"
"Stop. I ain't lookin' for apologies. I had a lot of time to think up here…about things I wish I'd done different. And I wished I'd known to say that to you back when you first let me hold you like this."
Sam sniffed loudly and wrapped his arms around Bobby's neck. All he'd ever wanted as a kid was for someone to tell him to "just be Sam." That being himself was enough. But did he even know how to "just be Sam" anymore?
"Thanks, Bobby," he whispered.
"Aw, hell, kid. You don't have to thank me for something that should have been said to you all along. Now—oh, hey there, little guy! Ain't you just a tiny bundle of fluff. And you talk! Well, that's a new one, even for me."
Sam turned to see Morpheus rolling around Bobby's feet. A few butterflies still fluttered in the air above him. The canine yipped and pawed at the hunter's leg—or ankle, really, considering his reach didn't extend much higher in his small form.
"You can hear Morpheus?" Sam asked.
Bobby crouched down to pet him, bracing Sam on his knee. "Yeah. It's weird. His voice don't exactly match his body, if you know what I mean."
Sam nodded. It had been odd to him at first too. "Morpheus is a special dog. He came from Hecate and has two sizes. This is his… small size." He glanced between the canine and the hunter, worried about Bobby's reaction.
"A shapeshifter of sorts, huh?" he asked, continuing to pet him. Morpheus yipped and licked his hand. Bobby nodded. "From what I know, Hecate is a very special lady. Oh, you take care of my boy here, do you? Uh huh."
Sam grinned. He heard Bobby's skepticism. "I said this is his small size. You think it's safe to shift up, Morpheus?"
The canine yipped just as two shadows moved over them. Sam turned to find both archangels walking up to them. "It is safe," Raphael said with a smile.
Gabriel knelt next to them, his eyes only on Sam. "You doing okay, kiddo?" he asked quietly, placing a hand on Sam's back.
Warmth and love infused his chest, tingling along his skin. Sam sucked in a breath. Why did Gabriel keep doing that? "Yeah," he croaked out, managing a small smile.
"Morpheus, if you wish to shift it may be best to move a few feet away. I do not believe Bobby is prepared to see your change and he is holding your charge," Raphael said in an amused tone.
"He ain't gonna burst outta his skin, is he?" Bobby muttered to Sam.
"No," Sam snorted. "He's just…bigger than most dogs."
Morpheus sprinted several yards away, then gave a full-body shake before growing into his fuller size. Bobby froze, tightening his grip on Sam. His muscles were tensing as though preparing to run.
"Bobby, it's okay," Sam tried to reassure. "It's still Morpheus. I promise."
"Sam—that thing is bigger than a horse."
"He's not a thing, Bobby." Sam winced.
Morpheus walked closer, his blue eyes trained on the hunter holding Sam. When he got close enough to touch, he sniffed against Bobby's hat. Satisfied, the canine moved on to Sam, sniffing his hair and face and clothes, inspecting every inch.
"I'm fine, Morpheus," Sam mumbled through closed lips, not chancing getting a tongue or nose pushed into his mouth. The hands around him tightened again, making him fear the hunter might try to run off with him. "Bobby," Sam said, trying to gain the upper hand, "I promise—Morpheus is safe. He carries me on his back. Even Dean lets him sleep in bed when we share!"
Bobby swallowed. "Yeah, I'd love to see your brother fight against… him over bed space."
Morpheus snuffed a laugh and rolled his eyes. Then, he turned his gaze again on Bobby, tilting his head to the side. Sam wished he could hear what was being said—because whatever it was had the archangels chuckling and Bobby snorting.
"Well, I hope someone at least got a picture," he said, releasing his death grip on Sam and lowering him to the ground. "I'd pay good money to see his face."
"Who's face?" Sam demanded. No wonder Dean was frustrated when he couldn't hear him talking to Morpheus or the angels—this was awful!
Gabriel barely let his toes touch the grass before he'd scooped Sam up. "Your brother's face when he first met Morpheus and got sneezed on. And he thought he'd been cursed."
"Put me down, Gabriel!" Sam snapped, twisting in the archangel's grip before he gave into the desire to lean closer.
"I think someone is grumps," Gabriel teased lightly but he studied Sam's face with care.
"Only because you seem to think I'm incapable of walking," he grumbled.
"Ri-ight." Gabriel smiled and kissed his forehead, much to Sam's continuing horror. "I'm sure it has nothing to do with how tired you are or the shock of your impromptu flight here?"
"Well, those things certainly don't help." Sam scowled at him, wiping his forehead.
"Hey!" Gabriel grabbed his hand and for a moment Sam thought something was wrong. "Don't wipe my kiss away! Now, you're getting two." And he did plant two big wet kisses—one above each eyebrow.
Sam stared at him in bewilderment. "What… what is wrong with you?"
"What do you mean?" Gabriel looked puzzled as he stood, raising them both.
"I mean," Sam sighed and lowered his voice to a whisper. "I mean you were pissed at me a few hours ago. Furious enough to draw your blade. And now you're being all… nice and goofy and it makes no sense."
"Oh, Sammy," Gabriel's face softened into a smile so sad it made Sam want to apologize and take back everything he'd just said. "No, sweetheart. There are so many things wrong with that statement—and I promise, we will discuss all of them when we get home. But even if I am angry with you it does not change whether or not you deserve to be loved or comforted. Okay?"
"What?" Sam asked, more confused than ever. Loved? Did he really just say that word out loud? In front of others?
"Alright, folks. It's definitely time to go." Gabriel gathered him closer. "Raphael, can you tell the guard to join us in Heart Hall? Do we have everything?"
"Wait, I—" Sam twisted to look at Bobby, suddenly unsure about leaving.
"There were some books that were left behind in my haste to get to Samuel earlier. But I can return for them later," Raphael said.
Gabriel nodded. "Yeah, I don't think anyone's gonna be in the mood for lessons for a few days."
"You're not bringing books back? But—" Sam whipped around to Raphael, making his head spin.
"Sam, look at me." Gabriel's voice was gentle but firm. It took Sam a second to focus—he was torn between wanting to stay awhile with Bobby and arguing with Raphael over books. But he managed to lock gazes with the archangel. "You are tired. We can visit Bobby and others again when you feel better. Raphael will come back for the books. We need to go home."
"But…" Sam whispered, not even having an argument in mind. The tingling warmth surged across his chest and back. He scrubbed at his eyes which felt itchy and wet at the same time.
"May I?" asked a gruff voice and Sam's legs tightened around Gabriel's waist at the thought of being passed around again.
"Just a quick talk and hugs. We gotta keep it short. He's crashing and we haven't even flown yet," Gabriel said in a hushed voice.
A flutter of panic worked its way through Sam's belly. Haven't even flown yet. He hadn't thought about the flight home. But now he was.
Oh God, if flying across the yard feels like it does, he thought as his heart pounded in his ears, how long will it take to cross dimensions? How long did it take me to get here? It felt like… years… lifetimes… oh my God…
"Hold on—Sammy? What's wrong?" The words sounded so far away and he barely registered the warm hand cupping his cheek. "I don't know what happened, Raphael. He just went pale and trembly."
"It is when you mentioned flying, brother," Raphael rumbled from somewhere close by.
"Oh," Gabriel's voice softened into a higher range as he gathered Sam closer. "Don't you go worrying about that, Samshine. I'm gonna be right here the whole time. As will Raphael and the guard. We'll be protecting you from it as much as possible. This isn't a lesson—nothing here to learn. You'll just sit back and relax and let us do all the work, okay? Just relax, little guy, come on. I promise, you'll be okay."
The words were just noise but the tone washed over Sam like a light, warm breeze. The body holding him swayed as fingers carded through his hair. He squeezed his eyes closed and tried to just breathe.
Someone began humming. They were joined by another voice—a soprano who ran a high counter descant over the deep bass. Other voices quickly combined, each adding a unique part to the unknown song.
The music thrummed through the air. Sam felt his grace respond—uncoiling and gently moving along to the rhythm from within. It was like having someone rub his back, but on the inside. Strange, yet soothing.
"I think someone likes that," Bobby whispered nearby.
"Oh, you have no idea," Gabriel replied just as softly. "I wish you could see his grace."
"I got eyes, boy. Don't need to see grace to see him relaxin'." The hunter huffed a small laugh. "He wasn't kidding when he said he trusted you."
Sam rubbed his face slightly against Gabriel's shirt and tried to force his eyes open. I can hear, you know!? he wanted to grumble, but there was barely enough energy for listening and breathing. And his body was completely content to just float in that state of being almost physically-asleep but still mentally-conscious.
"I know you can hear us," Gabriel said with a snort. The fingers scratching lightly through his hair moved to rest over his eyes. "Don't even think about opening these, mister. All you're gonna find is my gorgeous mug glaring back at you."
Are you… listening to my thoughts?
"Nooo, you are talking to me. But you can't hear me in there right now because Raphael's blocked all that off. You got a bit deafened from angel radio when you first arrived, so you're stuck with old-fashioned ear-hearing for now." Gabriel's fingers traced the outer edge of Sam's ear.
Stop that! he said, raising a shoulder to try and get the crawling sensation to stop. And why can't I open my eyes?
Gabriel sighed and resumed playing with Sam's hair, keeping the pressure firm so he couldn't move his head away from the archangel's shoulder. "Because you need to relax. You're already overstimulated from just being in Heaven. Give your brain a break, kiddo."
Are we leaving now? he asked nervously.
"Shh, yes. We're getting ready to leave the garden in just a minute. But remember—no stressing, okay?"
I… I wanna say goodbye to Bobby. Sam's fingers worried at one of the buttons on Gabriel's shirt. Please?
"You can absolutely say goodbye to Bobby," Gabriel murmured in his ear. "And I promise, you will be back to visit him again. Okay?"
Sam nodded, but decided to hold off any real answers until after he survived the flight home. Can I… can I see him? To say goodbye?
Gabriel snorted. "Yeah, I think we can swing that for a few minutes."
"Swing what?" Bobby asked.
"Him gazing upon your beautiful beard while saying goodnight before we go home."
Sam poked a finger into the archangel's chest. That is not what I said!
"Close enough!" Gabriel laughed. "Or do you mean to tell me you don't think Bobby's beard is beautiful? Because that's just rude, Sam."
"Hey, my beard is exquisite. Heavenly, even."
"Oh God," Sam managed to croak out. He'd never survive if Bobby and Gabriel decided to team up. It was bad enough when Dean sided with the former trickster.
"No taking our Father's name in vain while in Heaven, little fledgling," Raphael said.
Sam could hear the smile in his voice and wondered how long he'd been able to pick up such things from the Healer. Then the words sunk in and he frowned. Was it blasphemy or against the rules? Could he get in trouble for such things?
"Quit teasing, Raph. Look, you made him nervous again!" Gabriel grumbled. His thumbs dug lightly into Sam's brow, easing the tension and smoothing away his frown. "Don't listen to him, Sam. He's a goody two shoes who never lets us have any fun."
Bobby huffed a laugh. "I can't see anyone preventing you from having fun if you've set your mind to it."
"Oh, you have met my brother before, have you?" Raphael asked in a wry tone.
"No, no, no," Gabriel moved quickly, keeping his hold on Sam firm. "You two are not becoming friends."
Funny, Sam said to Gabriel, I just thought the same thing of you and Bobby.
"Who's to say Raphael and I ain't already friends?" Bobby asked.
"Yes, brother," Raphael interjected. "Bobby and I were already acquainted before today—and I quite enjoyed his company."
"No, this is like… a nightmare. And you" Gabriel tugged lightly on Sam's hair, "can stay out of this, thank you. Take a nap or something."
Sam turned his head to hide his grin. How am I supposed to take a nap when all the "big people" are too busy bickering about such grown up matters like pranks and who's allowed to be friends with who?
"Okay, time to say goodnight," Gabriel announced. "This one's getting delirious with exhaustion. Poor child. Probably won't even make it all the way through a bottle when we get back."
Have I bitten you yet? Because I can do that. Right here, right now.
"Bless him," Gabriel said in an overly sweet voice as he turned Sam around in his arms. "Here you go, Bobby. Take the little tyke. Watch the teeth—they're sharp."
"Watch the… what?" Bobby asked, gathering Sam easily to him.
You're an ass, Sam said to Gabriel as he slowly blinked. The brightness of the Garden took a bit to filter out before he could focus on Bobby's face. "Ignore him," he whispered to the hunter. "I only bite as a last resort."
"You didn't wait till the last resort the first time you were this little," Bobby huffed.
"What?"
"You heard me—you bit as a means of introduction."
Sam blinked several times in disbelief. "I didn't bite as a kid!"
Bobby laughed and crushed him in a hug. "Ask your brother. He was the one you bit the most. You got me a few times. Don't think you bit John, but he probably tasted awful."
Sam shuddered at the thought of biting his dad. That would not have gone over very well with the man. "I'm sure Dean deserved it," he finally said, pushing John from his thoughts.
"No doubt. I'm sure he still does occasionally. You tell that idjit I said hi, okay? And that I love you boys." Bobby's arms tightened.
Sam took a deep breath, trying to catch as much of the hunter's scent one last time. "I will. And we love you too, Bobby."
"Alright," Bobby sniffed, "your ass needs to go home and get in bed."
"Nooo," Sam groaned, strengthening his grip.
"Yes. You're half asleep as it is." Bobby kissed his cheek, itching Sam's skin in a familiar way with his beard. "Here's Gabriel now. I look forward to seeing you again soon—although, try to schedule it next time, okay? No more flyin' in your sleep."
"No promises," Sam mumbled, reluctantly letting go of his father figure when he felt Gabriel take hold of him.
"Yes, promises," the archangel said, settling Sam against his chest again. "We'll be making sure of it from now on."
"Gonna tether me to the bed?" Sam mumbled. His eyes closed as he felt warm grace brush over his skin.
"Nah, just tether you to myself," Gabriel answered seriously. "Alright, looks like we're all set. Bobby, it was good to see you again."
"Well, I'm glad there weren't monsters with chainsaws chasing me this time around," Bobby said wryly, then cleared his throat. "Now, you take good care of my boys. You hear me?"
"I do. And I swear on my life, I will." Gabriel's voice rang with grace and promise, and Sam jumped slightly at the sound. Fingers immediately returned to his hair, silently apologizing for startling him. When the archangel spoke again, it was in his normal tone. "Until next time, then."
"You know where to find me," Bobby called as they started walking, then added, "Ain't like I'm goin' anywhere."
Tears burned Sam's throat and eyes, making it hard to breathe without sobbing. He hated this—hated feeling torn between worlds. It was like being in a lucid dream and knowing he had to wake up soon.
It wasn't fair! Why did he only get to keep people in his life for such short periods of time? He'd had Bobby some as a kid, then lost him for over a decade until getting him back as an adult—only to lose him again for good after a few years.
The only person who remained a semi-constant was Dean, and even their relationship had suffered immense setbacks throughout their lives. Between Stanford and the Apocalypse, Purgatory and Gadreel, the Mark and the Darkness, it was a wonder they were still by each other's side. But within a few decades…
"Shh, it's okay," Gabriel whispered. "I promise, we'll be back. You want that blanket again? Raphael, gimme that blan—"
No! Sam shouted mentally, hitting a fist blindly against Gabriel. I don't need a fucking blanket! I'm not a goddamn baby that needs to be swaddled and rocked, okay?! He couldn't breathe around his own anger and frustration. It choked him—made him want to either burrow all the way through Gabriel's chest or claw off his own skin.
A hand grasped his fist, preventing him from striking again. It quickly gathered his other fist and held them together between their chests. Sam tried to pull free but it was useless.
"Samuel, stop." Gabriel's voice was quiet, but Sam found himself instantly obeying.
"Why are you fighting me?"
He took a deep breath but it released the sobs he'd tried so hard to keep in. "I not know!" Sam managed to get out past the burning in his chest.
"Do you realize you are holding your grace back?" Gabriel asked. He kept a firm grasp on Sam's hands as they walked out of the Garden and through the hallways.
As soon as Gabriel said the words, Sam did realize it. He felt the way his grace trembled against his hold, wanting to freely curl against the archangel's own warm energies wrapped around them. Still, he didn't release it—he shouldn't need to!
"We have discussed this before, little one," Raphael said gently. "Holding your grace back like that only hurts yourself."
Sam growled in frustration at the pet name. "When discussed?"
"The very first time I healed you," Raphael answered. "You refused to let it reach for Gabriel then as well."
"Not need it," Sam ground out through gritted teeth. He tugged at his hands again to no avail.
"What is it you think you do not need?" Gabriel asked. "Me? Other angels? Other grace? What?"
"No, no, no," Sam shook his head. He didn't have the right words!
"Ah," Raphael said, sounding closer, "you believe you do not need comfort."
Sam went still. That was exactly the word he was looking for—but there was no way in Hell he could say that to them. How could he explain that he didn't need to be constantly coddled when something went wrong? He wasn't used to it—it just felt excessive and weird and not something he should let himself grow accustomed to.
"Wait." Gabriel stopped walking. "That is what this has been about? This entire time? I thought you were uncomfortable being touched by our grace—not denying yourself comfort."
Sam did not want to talk about this. He wanted to hide his face, bury it in the archangel's shirt, but it was awkward with Gabriel still holding his hands between them. He ended up curling over them anyway, his forehead barely reaching the fabric.
"Keep your hands here," Gabriel sighed, snaking his own arm out so he could wrap it around Sam's back. "Alright, we're making a slight detour, kids. Barry, how's the nursery these days?"
"Well, it's not exactly up to housing any little rascals, but it's clean. No debris or damaged sections or excessive dust," Barachiel said quietly.
Sam flinched, forgetting the others were even there. Now he really wanted to hide. Or maybe wake up in his bed and find out the whole thing had been a crazy dream.
"Wards all still work?" Gabriel asked.
"Oh, yeah—nothing but peace and quiet past those doors."
"Thank Dad," Gabriel mumbled. He hoisted Sam up slightly as they started walking again and moved a hand to the back of his head. "We aren't far, Sammy. Just a few minutes, okay?"
A few minutes until what? Sam wondered. He remembered the angels mentioning a nursery earlier—before Raphael and Gabriel had arrived. Why were they delaying when they were so close to going home?
"I want you three to wait out here," Gabriel said when they came to a stop.
"Are you certain, brother?" asked Raphael, sounding surprised.
"Yup. Morpheus and I got this."
Got what? Sam frowned and tried to raise his head but the hand held him in place. What were they doing?
A door creaked open, and they walked into a room with warm air. Then, the door thudded shut behind them. The air seemed to thicken, muffling the world into complete silence.
Sam gasped—fearing his ability to breathe and hear had both suddenly left him. But warm air poured into his lungs easily. And he heard the sound without any distortions.
"Easy, kiddo," Gabriel said. "It's just the wards. They keep this room contained from the rest of Heaven—you won't hear anything over angel radio and all the grace outside this room can't seep in here."
Sam carefully opened his eyes and found that the lights were soft enough to not sear his vision. The room was… not what he'd expected. Of course, what could he expect from an angel nursery when fledglings weren't supposed to have physical form?
"What… is this?" he asked, looking around at what appeared to be large round tubes against the walls and an empty, shallow swimming pool in the center of the room. The walls were round, painted either grey or a weird purple, and had three carpeted steps running along the edges that led to the tubes.
"It's Heaven's nursery. Where they raised fledglings," Gabriel explained. He sounded sad as they looked at all the old equipment.
"This is the ugliest nursery I've ever seen," Sam blurted out, unable to stop himself.
Gabriel startled, then laughed. "You know, you're absolutely right. Angels have no sense of style. Also, you guys don't usually have eyes to see things like wall colors. But I'll have to show you around here and explain everything another day. That's not why we're here right now."
"Can I please walk?" Sam asked quickly. He still wasn't sure what exactly they'd come here for, but he felt he needed some space first. The carpet looked clean enough. And if the wards blocked off all the grace from Heaven, then Gabriel didn't need to keep holding him.
"You sure?" Gabriel frowned.
"You said the wards blocked everything, right?"
"Well, yeah, but…"
"Then, you shouldn't need to hold me, right?" Sam swung his feet, itching to get down.
"I don't think your grace is gonna like it though," Gabriel warned.
"My grace can deal," Sam scoffed. His grace didn't like a lot of things. It would get over it.
Gabriel stared at him for a moment, then nodded. "Does that mean you'd like me to take the wrap off as well while we're in here?"
Sam thought of the warm tingly energy that the archangel had continuously renewed through the evening. It had helped buffer the rest of the angels—but it also contained so much emotion. It might be nice to have a reprieve from it as well. "Yeah," he said, looking away. "As long as it's not hard for you to re-apply it. Right?"
"Nah," Gabriel ruffled his hair and the tingling dispersed. "It's super easy. Alright, I'm just gonna set you down here. You come sit with me on the steps over there, okay?"
"Umm, yeah?" Sam said with a frown. "You don't have to give me that many directions…"
Gabriel carefully sat him on the floor and stepped back.
A storm seemed to explode from within. Some unknown force propelled Sam forward, his hands barely able to stop him from face-planting into the floor. Nausea made every inch of his skin chill. He swallowed and his shoulders twisted, flinging him forward again.
What is that? he wondered, reaching one hand back to feel his along his shoulders. Something shocked his fingers and he cried out, yanking his hand away. Angry! Angry! Angry!
Hands lifted him from the floor, quelling the nausea and dizziness. His shoulders spasmed until his face hit fabric. A wheezing whine filled his ears and it took a minute for Sam to realize the noise was coming from his own breathing.
"Okay, okay. Calm down. It's all over. No more experimenting. I got you." Gabriel's voice cooed softly as he swayed them back and forth. Golden grace quickly returned to wrap around Sam's skin, gradually soothing the raging storm underneath. "There you go. Slow, deep breaths. You are safe."
"What…?" Sam tried to ask, but he couldn't find more words. What was that? What happened? What IS happening?
"Shh, I'll explain," Gabriel promised, moving to sit on the steps, "just take a moment to breathe and catch your bearings." He cradled Sam's head in the crook of his left arm and pulled his knees so they rested on the steps to the right of Gabriel's waist.
Sam curled in tighter, hiding his face against the archangel's arm. His whole body shook with the aftereffects of whatever had just occurred. He clutched at the shirt, knowing he was probably pinching the skin underneath but unable to be gentler.
The arm not holding Sam's head wrapped around his waist and held him closer, the hand smoothing down his wings with an extra layer of grace. They sat there, swaying in silence, for several minutes. Sam's breathing slowly evened out and stopped making whimpering noises without his permission.
"You feel up to talking a little now, Samshine?" Gabriel asked quietly.
"Wanna go home," Sam muttered into the fabric.
"I know you do." Gabriel shifted him back a bit so his face wasn't hidden anymore. "But here's the thing—we can't fly if you're holding your grace back like that."
"I won't!" Sam blinked his eyes open in a panic.
"I know you won't," Gabriel agreed with a smile, "because we are going to talk about it and reach an understanding before we go!"
Sam wanted to argue. He wanted to rail against the idea of being kept in Heaven a second longer! But behind Gabriel's smile was a firm resolve that no argument could shake. So, instead of fighting, he nodded.
"Wise decision, padawan! Now, first thing's first," Gabriel's grin slid away into a more serious expression, "why do you think your grace should just 'deal with' not having what it needs?"
"I… What?" Sam stared up at him. "I never said that!"
"You did. I told you your grace would not like it if I put you down, and you said it could deal with it."
"But… but liking something isn't the same as needing it!" Sam insisted.
"Okay, I should have phrased that better." Gabriel nodded. "What would you have said if I'd told you your grace needed me to keep holding you?"
"I…" Sam paused. He would have demanded reasons why and still argued against it.
"What if I told you this is something your grace needs every day?" Gabriel asked in a softer voice.
"What?! No, it doesn't." Sam frowned and tried to sit up.
Gabriel helped him but kept him on his lap. "Why do you think it doesn't need it?"
"Well, for one thing, I've never had that happen before!" Sam gestured toward the floor where he'd been set down a few minutes ago. He startled when he almost hit Morpheus who sat silently next to them. "Sorry, Morph! I forgot you were here."
Morpheus just chuffed and licked his face.
"You've had smaller incidents of that happening. I don't think you even knew it was your grace sometimes," Gabriel said, directing Sam's attention back toward him with a finger on his chin. "We've been doing the bare minimum to keep your grace sustained. And it's time we did better."
"I don't understand," Sam admitted.
"I know, kiddo. See, we've all been mostly concerned with that old-man brain in there." Gabriel tapped Sam's temples lightly. "The problem is you've got too many ages mixed together and we've kinda overlooked the most important."
"What?"
"How old are you, Sam?"
"I…" Sam started, then shut his mouth.
Gabriel nodded. "Exactly. Too many ages mixed together. Your soul is two hundred and twenty-three. Your physical appearance and driver's license a couple months ago said thirty-four years old. Now, you look about six. But then there's your grace."
Sam rubbed his chest. "Isn't it, like, the oldest thing about me?"
"Interesting assumption. Why would you think that?"
"It came from Chuck. And He's the oldest thing around, being God and all, so I guess I figured…" Sam shrugged as he trailed off.
"Well, your theory has some merit. Except for a few key bits." Gabriel grinned and Sam felt his stomach drop, already knowing he wouldn't like what he'd hear. "One—if your grace was considered as old as dear old Dad, then you'd be seen as the oldest archangel instead of the youngest member of the entire host. And two—you do know how babies are made, right?"
"What?! Yes!" Sam blushed, wondering where the archangel could possibly be going with his second point.
"Good! Then you know that babies aren't the same age as their parents just because they're made from bits from their parents?" Gabriel asked with an eyebrow raised.
Sam sighed and rubbed his eyes in defeat. "Okay, so my grace is not old."
"Kiddo, your grace is exactly thirty-nine days old." Gabriel's voice sounded odd—sad and weighted, like there was more he was saying that Sam wasn't hearing.
"So, what does that mean? That my grace is like a baby?" Sam peered up at Gabriel through his messy curls, searching the archangel's face.
Gabriel brushed the curls out of Sam's eyes and cupped his face. "It means you, as an angel, are a baby, Sam. Yes, by human standards you are an adult—an ancient adult who's lived a few lifetimes over. But no matter which number you go by—two hundred and twenty-three years or thirty-nine days—you are still a baby by angel standards."
"Ugh, I get it. I'm the 'new baby in the family' or whatever," Sam pulled his face out of Gabriel's hands, "but so what? What does that mean? And how does that get us home?"
"It means that I have been neglecting you as Flock Alpha. As has Raphael, as head Healer. We've all been so focused on making sure Sam-the-adult is comfortable with the transition that we've failed to care for you as a fledgling," Gabriel said seriously.
"That's stupid, Gabriel," Sam scoffed, shaking his head. "No one's neglected or failed me. Certainly not you or Raphael."
"Oh, sweetheart. How would you even know?"
Sam scowled even as his mouth went dry. "I… You've fed us every day. And hang out with us and make sure the bunker doesn't collapse under the laundry and dishes we don't do."
"Feeding you every day and keeping you and our home clean is minimum human care, Sam."
"You also teach me grace-stuff! And there's daily grooming," Sam heard his own hysteria rising but Gabriel had to know! "You have all been like a flock of mother hens! I can't turn around without someone fretting over me. And I know Dean loves it too! He's never laughed so much or slept so well—ever! I don't understand how you can say that you're…"
"Shh, it's okay." Gabriel cupped his face again, using his thumbs to wipe away tears Sam didn't realize he was shedding. "You don't know what fledglings need, Sam. That's not your job—it's mine."
"But you haven't failed!" Sam yelled, pushing Gabriel's hands away. "And I know what I need!"
"You do, do you? And what is it you need?" Gabriel moved his hands to Sam's hips, keeping him steady on his lap.
"I need to go home!"
Gabriel gave him a sad smile. "And what does your grace need?"
"It needs to grow the hell up and quit being so goddamn needy all the time!" The words flew out of Sam's mouth before he knew what he was saying. He saw his own shock reflected back on the archangel's face.
Golden eyes flashed with grace as they narrowed and then Gabriel nodded once as though in sudden understanding. His hands gently moved Sam until he sat sideways, leaning against the archangel's chest. "That… is a very specific thing to say."
Sam shrugged. Tension flooded his muscles so quickly that a fine tremor ran through them. He clamped his hands together, hoping to keep it from becoming noticeable—an impossible task when sitting on the lap of an archangel.
"I wonder, who said those words to you before, hmm?" Gabriel mused softly.
Sam stared down at his toes without answering. He knew exactly who had said those words to him repeatedly as a child. But there was absolutely no way he was discussing this—not here, not now, not ever!
Gabriel sighed, swaying slightly while rubbing Sam's back. It was disconcerting just how comforting and uncomfortable the gestures felt at once. "I know Bobby asked you this earlier, but I need to ask you too—do you trust me, Sam? Really trust me?"
Sam glanced up at him in surprise and nodded. Of course he trusted Gabriel! Why would he even ask?
"Then let me rephrase that," the archangel continued. "When you were growing up, what did John do if you were scared or upset or crying?"
Memories floated to the surface of his mind as though summoned no matter how hard he tried to push them back down. Being terrified of a storm that knocked out the power at four years old. Having to change schools for the first time at six years old. Dean suddenly disappearing while on a food run, leaving Sam alone in an empty motel room for four days before his dad returned to find him starving and panicked at twelve years old.
Buck up and quit your crying. You're a hunter, not some sissy civilian. Quit being a baby, or I'll give you something to cry about!
The words had been said often enough with little variation. And there were always consequences if he failed to obey them. He shuddered at the memories, trying again to bury them.
His grace had another idea.
A sharp pain tore through his head and spine as his grace wrenched itself out from his control. Sam gasped as he felt and saw the memories transfer to Gabriel as clearly as speaking over angel radio. Knew it was too late when the archangel's vessel tensed under him. He could only angrily throttle the rogue energy, clench his eyes shut, and wait for the fallout.
"You are safe here, Samuel," Gabriel's ragged voice broke the silence. "Only I could hear you. And nothing you reveal will reach another's ears without your permission."
Gabriel's fingers trailed down Sam's neck, then pressed into the spot that forced his wings to relax completely against his back. Raphael had only done that a couple times before, but it was always an odd sensation. The fingers at his back circled around to take his hands and smooth a thumb over his aching palm.
"Your words will stay with me, little one," Gabriel promised as he brought his other hand up to rest on Sam's chest. Fingers drummed lightly against his thin sleep shirt, calling to the tightly held grace underneath. "I told you this once before but I said it the wrong way—you are a fledgling. A child, by Heaven's standards, and a member of my flock. My fledgling. My child. My responsibility. My business."
Sam wanted to twist away from the tender tone and deny the words. It wasn't being said in a fierce steely voice or yelled in anger, and yet the softness seemed more painful. In grace-fueled Enochian, each whispered phrase rang like a binding vow. He shook his head and tried to push Gabriel away, but the archangel held him in place with little effort.
"I know this is hard, Samuel. You are tired and this wound is very old." Gabriel's hand stopped tapping and simply splayed out fully across Sam's chest, infusing him with warmth and love. "But it is keeping me from caring for you properly. You are mine, remember? Mine to care for and nurture and protect and comfort. And not even Samuel Winchester is going to stop me from taking care of Samuel Winchester anymore, understand?"
Their graces reached for each other—ancient and infant. Sam tried to hold it back, regardless of the sharp pain it caused throughout his body. But Gabriel wouldn't allow him to physically curl inward.
"Take deep breaths for me. Come on. Deep breaths, relax, and let go of your grace, Samuel." Gabriel slowly leaned him back so he laid in the crook of the archangel's arm again. The hand on his chest rubbed gentle circles over his sternum. "What your father said and did was wrong. Existence alone is enough reason to cry, little one. And you have experienced more than your fair share of pain. You do not have to ignore it anymore. No more locking it away or fearing more pain if you let someone see a glimpse of it. Can you stop holding onto it so tight? Can you trust me to hold it for you, Samuel?"
Sam tried to curl onto his side again—anything to feel less exposed and vulnerable. It was too much too fast. They'd just had a fucking fight before bed! How could they be here only hours later?
When Gabriel's hands prevented him from hiding again, Sam choked out a sob. "Please, no!"
"'No' what, Samuel?"
"No more talk!"
"Why do you not wish to talk?"
Sam shook his head. Tears were building behind eyelids he kept so tightly shut they were starting to hurt. He couldn't just let go—not after decades and centuries of clinging to it. Somedays, that pain was the only thing left that was still Sam. How could he give that to someone else?
"Or do you just not wish for me to talk?" Gabriel asked when Sam didn't continue. A frustrated growl worked its way out of Sam's throat as he pushed at the ground with his legs. The archangel chuckled. "Raphael is correct—you are very fierce indeed. But that will not get you home without this conversation."
"Why!?"
"Because, my fledgling, I must fly us through dimensions to get us from Heaven to Earth. It will not be an easy trip for you—even with two archangels and two seraphs there for protection. I cannot risk you trying to yank back control of your grace mid-flight. Samuel, look at me please."
Sam shook his head again. He knew the second he opened his eyes it would unleash a torrent of tears that were caged behind straining lids. The hand on his chest moved up to cup his face—the thumb rubbing under his eye and up over his brow bone.
"Open your eyes, Samuel. I promise, I will not go away simply because you cannot see me."
The temptation to bite the hand was strong, but he refrained—mostly because he knew it wouldn't even damage the archangel. Instead, he tried to bring his hands up get rid of the tears before they could fall. Gabriel didn't ease up his hold.
"Fuck you!" Sam yelled.
"There we go. Let it out!" Gabriel encouraged, rubbing along Sam's jaw and neck to keep the muscles loose. "No more hiding—not yourself or your pain."
Sam's breath caught and he chewed his lip. The hand returned to his chest and resumed drumming out a light rhythm. His grace was furious, lashing out viciously until he could no longer hold onto it. He felt it break free and rush toward Gabriel's waiting grace.
His eyes snapped open in panic. "No!"
Gabriel's smile was blinding. "You are alright, Samuel. I got you. There we go. Shh, deep breaths."
Terror and rage coiled in Sam's belly—emotions not attached to specific memories of events or times or faces and not connected to the present either, yet still overwhelmingly recognizable. Warmth poured into his chest, countering his violent storm with calm stillness. Sam tried to pull the storm back to him but it was no use.
A small sob escaped him, quickly followed by another. He kicked his legs out of sheer helpless frustration. "Stop!"
"Stop what, little one?" Gabriel asked steadily.
"You stop being nice! Stop!"
"How do you wish me to act instead, hmm?"
Sam glared up at him. Tears ran freely down his face but he could do nothing to stop or hide them—not when his hands were still being held in a too-gentle grasp. He turned to Morpheus, hoping to find an ally. The canine was watching with sad blue eyes and nuzzled Sam's hair.
"He says," Gabriel cleared his throat, sounding overcome by emotion. "He says that he will not wash your face until you are finished draining this wound. But that he is here with you."
Some of the intense fight drained out of Sam, leaving him lethargic. He closed his eyes and turned his head into Gabriel's arm, just wanting to go to sleep and wake up in his bed. No one asked him if this "wound" needed draining—he'd covered it in enough bandages and cloths in hopes that the damn thing would just rot off unnoticed.
"No, no, Samshine. No more hiding," Gabriel coaxed, nudging his chin with fingers.
Sam blinked up at him, trying to clear his vision enough to focus on the archangel's face. "I don't know what you want from me, Gabriel," he whispered.
"I know," Gabriel said with a sad smile. "How do you think I should act? Like John? Should I shove weapons in your hand and scream at you for showing emotion? And if you can't stop, should I throw you in a cold shower or slap you around or maybe take a belt to your butt so you'd have a real reason to cry?"
Sam froze, eyes wide in shock. He'd known Gabriel had seen his memories. But to hear him describe those events out loud—events that had never been spoken about and some Dean didn't even know happened—was like a punch to the gut!
Gabriel continued speaking in the same calm tone as his hand resumed rubbing gentle circles on Sam's chest. "The real question is why you'd rather I act like John. I think I have it narrowed down to two possibilities. Either you really did agree with his assessment of you and believe you deserved that treatment. Or you only know how to react to someone treating you like John did—and the idea of being cared for and adored scares the shit out of you more than being belittled and beaten."
"My dad didn't… he didn't beat me," Sam mumbled, ashamed of even the word.
"Father help me," Gabriel sighed heavily and shook his head. "That is a conversation for another day. The fact is, I will never be John. And regardless of the reason why you keep pushing for me to 'stop being nice' or refusing to allow yourself comfort from any of the flock, you are not going to get the outcome you want."
"What does that mean?" Sam asked, frowning.
"Come here," Gabriel said, shifting him upright so Sam was in his usual place—against the archangel's chest, face tucked against his neck. Tingly warmth swept across his skin and infused downward into his grace. "It means I am going to be Gabriel, your Flock Alpha. I am going to love and protect all the members of my flock—human and angel. And you are mine—my fledgling, my child, my responsibility. Your grace is less than two months old, Sam-a-lam. And it has had to sort through over two centuries of memories—most of which are trauma and torture. It is hurting. It is scared. It does not need to be told to grow up. And it definitely doesn't need an angel blade."
Small trembles worked their way through Sam's limbs. He chewed his lip as his breathing grew faster. The tingling heat of Gabriel's grace intensified, flooding under his skin and filling his entire torso. He felt his own grace respond and it was too much.
Gabriel's fingers dug into the muscles of his lower back, easing the tension there while his other hand carded through his hair and scratched at his scalp. "You are also hurting and scared. And you do not need to grow up faster or arm yourself with an angel blade either."
He choked on the first real sob—a high, desperate sound that he'd never heard himself make. Gabriel's hand slipped under his thin shirt and soothed along his spine, leaving a blazing trail of heat across his skin. Another sob burst past his bit lips, wet and loud.
"There we go. Let it out. I got you." Gabriel swayed on the steps as he murmured encouragements, never hushing him.
Their graces interacted on a level Sam had never experienced before—like Gabriel was holding him on the inside the same way he held his physical body. His hands clung to the archangel's shirt, wringing the fabric in a frantic attempt to get closer. Everything burned from his eyes to his toes and he didn't know what to do with it all!
"No, no, no. No tensing up. Relax and breathe."
Another rush of calming energy flowed through Sam, releasing the tension in his muscles. And that was all he needed. One large breath filled his lungs and he was gone on the exhale.
He cried hard. Loud, angry sobbing that occasionally turned to wails poured from his mouth and there was no containing them. Not when he felt his grace wailing with him—could practically see the two-month-old infant Gabriel described being forced to experience the tortures of the Cage as its own. It made him cry harder at the tragedy and unfairness of it all.
"I know. I know. It is not easy. But you are doing so good. You are so good, Samuel. There you go."
Sam didn't know how long he cried. It felt like a lifetime. Every time he thought he was finished, a new wave of fury or grief would crash over him.
Through it all, Gabriel never ceased his words of reassurance. His grace completely covered Sam inside and out—and Sam had no desire to push it away anymore. If anything, he feared the moment they would need to part ways and tried to grasp it tighter.
He knew the separation would rip his grace from the shards of his soul and leave him gutted. But it was too late—he'd already let Gabriel in. How could he ever hope to survive?
Gabriel held Sam through his violent tears, wishing he could do more than just rock him. The agony emanating off the boy was sickening. It rolled through the tiny grace-soul and Gabriel could only wrap his own grace around it and draw the pain away.
Sometimes, memories flickered across their bond. He saw images of Lucifer, the Cage, John, demons, and others he couldn't name. Sam's cries would grow louder with each one and he began pulling Gabriel's grace toward him instead of pushing it away.
The relief of finally getting to hold the young grace was mixed with the sadness of having to battle a child over the chance to comfort him.
It took over an hour for the sobs to quiet down. By then, the boy's grace and body were melted against him. Thank you, Father! he thought, hoping his Dad caught his gratitude wherever He happened to be.
There was a small spike of fear as the kid's grace burrowed further into him and tiny fingers dug tighter into Gabriel's shirt. "Oh, Sam," Gabriel laughed, holding him closer too, "I'm not letting you go anytime soon, kiddo. Not after fighting so hard to get here. No, I'm afraid you're gonna be stuck with me for quite a long time."
Sam's breath gave a slight hitch at the proclamation. Gabriel just kept swaying and rubbing his back. He felt Sam turn his head, trying to wipe his face, but everything on Gabriel's neck and shoulder was soaked in tears and sweat and snot.
"Okay, sweetheart. I think it's time to do some clean up. What do you say, hmm?" he asked quietly without pulling Sam away. The kid nodded and peeled his face from Gabriel's neck to reveal… a mess. "Oh, yeah. Definitely clean up time."
Gabriel snapped up a bowl of cool water and a cloth. But before he could use it, Morpheus began systematically lapping away the main bulk of the tears and snot. Sam even turned his face and let him get the other side when the canine nosed at the boy's chin.
Dipping the cloth into the water, he rung it out and brought it to Sam's face. "Here we go," he whispered, wiping the puffy pink skin around his eyes and nose. "This should feel better."
An unexpected tongue against Gabriel's neck made him jump. Hold still, Gabrieloki. You need cleaning too.
"Well, I guess it's bath time for all of us," Gabriel said wryly.
Sam's eyes were dazed but trying to focus on Morpheus as he licked down into the juncture between Gabriel's neck and shoulder. It tickled, making Gabriel laugh and squirm and pull a face. Sam stared at him as though not quite sure what he was seeing.
"You with us, kiddo?" he asked, running the washcloth lightly down the bridge of Sam's nose. The boy scrunched up his nose and pulled away but didn't answer. His breathing stayed calm and his grace was humming pleasantly—he just seemed out of it. "That's okay, Sam. You don't have to talk anymore."
Hazel eyes darted up to meet his. Really? echoed loudly through their grace. There was equal parts disbelief and surprise in his tone.
Gabriel smiled and kissed his forehead. "Yes, really. You have talked enough already. I'm very proud of you, Sam. What you did was very hard, and you did it anyway. Thank you." He pulled back and rewetted the cloth to clean Sam's neck. "Almost done. Then we can go home, okay?"
Sam nodded and gave him a small smile.
Another snap got rid of the bowl and dried Gabriel's shirt. "Perfect! Now Barry can't tell me I made extra work for him in the nursery. How do I look? Did Morpheus give me a hickey?"
Morpheus chuffed and nipped at his ear when he turned his head to show Sam. Do not tempt me, Gabrieloki. I can leave more than a hickey.
"Yikes! I'm just saying—last time someone licked my neck that much, I had something to show for it." Gabriel winked at Sam and got a half-giggle for his efforts. It sounded like tiny chimes ringing in the air. Literal music to his ears. "Alright. You ready to blow this popsicle stand?"
Sam glanced at the door nervously, then back at Gabriel. He nodded, trying not to reveal the extent of his anxiety. But Gabriel felt it all through their entwined grace.
"Don't worry, kiddo. I got ya. And I ain't letting you go, okay?" Gabriel meant the words on so many levels—more than applied to just this moment. He reached out his hands. "Come here you."
Sam's arms came up automatically, allowing himself to be lifted as they stood. The boy didn't put his arms around Gabriel's neck though. Instead, he kept them tucked between their chests, his fingers playing with the buttons and seams of Gabriel's shirt. It wasn't until a finger actually made its way inside his shirt that he realized Sam was trying to get closer—even if it was unconscious.
The boy was beyond starved for touch and affection. Gabriel had felt it the second his hand made contact with the skin on Sam's back—his entire being had lit up. It wasn't just his grace that needed handling more.
Gabriel grinned as a solution struck him and he turned back to kneel on the floor by the bottom step. "Ok, I know this is awkward. But trust me. Stand on this step and hold onto my neck for a second."
There were a few moments of maneuvering and grumpy grunts, but Sam eventually managed to get into position. Gabriel quickly took his jacket and zipped it up around them both. The boy's size meant that his butt rested just at the base of the jacket, allowing him to use it like a seat.
As soon as Sam was wrapped tightly against him, his nerves seemed to settle. Gabriel tucked the boy's arms back inside and zipped the jacket up to the top, making sure it didn't catch his curls. When he stood back up, it was very easy to just slip an arm under his thighs to keep him from slipping out.
"I've already reapplied all the protections to you and your grace. So, when I open this door, you shouldn't feel anything beyond maybe a cool rush of air. That'll just be the loss of the wards from the nursery. You'll still be completely protected—even more than you were before we stepped in here, okay?" Gabriel explained.
Sam nodded against him. There was a small flutter of anxiety but nothing like the rolling panic of earlier. The young grace remained nestled against Gabriel just as the boy sighed and stretched an arm across the archangel's chest.
Good. He can be close and not curled in on himself, Gabriel thought. The tension and curling up were ways of closing off, making one's self less vulnerable. It was why he tried to keep Sam relaxed during the whole lead-up to crying, knowing the boy's body would take over if he'd just let it.
The door creaked open to reveal the very worried faces of Raphael and two caretakers.
Gabriel gave them his brightest grin. "Miss us?"
"You were gone for a very long time, brother." Raphael looked them over, his eyes rapidly moving over the child tucked inside Gabriel's jacket. Is he well?
Gabriel nodded and closed the door once Morpheus was clear of it. "I know, but that's what you get when you let me, a magic dog, and a fledgling into a nursery by ourselves without supervision. Don't worry—I cleaned up my mess!" He started walking toward Heart Hall and the others were left with no choice but to follow.
Gabriel, are you well?Raphael asked him, his tone soft even in his mind.
I am fine, Raphael, Gabriel waved him off. It was very difficult. But I was able to get through to him. We are safe to fly back to Earth now.
Raphael sighed. You are upset, little hummingbird.
I am. Gabriel could barely contain the rage that he'd held back the past hour or so. Seeing Sam's memories through the boy's own eyes, feeling his fear and pain and helplessness, had almost been his undoing. But I cannot talk about it without Samuel's permission. I made a promise.
Of course, brother. I am just concerned. It is rare to see you so…
Angry? Gabriel glanced to his right, allowing Raphael to see the rage in his eyes. He had to be very careful not to allow the emotions to seep through his grace.
Yes. Angry. It is not an emotion you embraced often. Raphael stared at him in open concern.
Oh, but I am the Archangel of Justice. Surely, I was allowed righteous wrath?
Gabriel? Sam's sleepy voice interrupted.
He almost tripped in his haste to stop. Tightening his hold on the boy, Gabriel ran a hand over the curly hair sticking out of the top of the jacket. "Yeah, Sammy?"
It's okay. You can just tell him you're mad at my dad. As long as… Little fingers fiddled nervously with a button again. Just don't go into all the details maybe? I dunno.
"Can you hear us, sweetheart?" Gabriel asked in a low murmur, bringing his head closer to Sam's ear. He'd kept the muffling protections of Raphael's in place for a reason.
I can hear you. Not Raphael. Sam shrugged—an awkward move when inside someone else's jacket with them.
"I'm sorry, Sam. I was trying to be quiet enough…" A pinch to his side made him jump and close his mouth.
I said it's okay. I… I can tell you're not mad at me.
"You can?" Gabriel asked, relief sweeping through him. Words were one thing—but it was the rage itself that he'd most wanted to keep away from Sam.
Yeah. I can tell you're mad. But it's not at me. It's weird… inside.
"You're weird inside," Gabriel whispered teasingly. He got another pinch in retaliation followed by another half-giggle.
The seraphs and Healer all turned at the sound. In fact, doors all along the hallway were opening and heads peered out in search of the long-forgotten noise. Hope and awe shone on all their faces.
Gabriel smirked and reached his hand around in search of a bare foot. "But not nearly as weird as you are on the outside," he said, trailing fingertips along the arch of the exposed sole.
"Fucking asshole!" Sam screamed, laughing as he dug his own fingertips into the archangel's ribs. He tried to squirm away, but the jacket held him in place. "This is not fair! Raphael, I'm calling foul play on your brother!"
"Yes, that does sound like Gabriel. Do you require assistance?" Raphael called with a smile. Then, he raised an eyebrow to Gabriel. May I approach him, brother?
Gabriel's wings puffed a little in response, but he forced them down. It was hard to not be territorial with flock members after such intense grace bonding—which was why Raphael was being so cautious. He smiled and nodded to the Healer as he continued the light assault on his fledgling's foot.
"Oh, you think Raph is gonna help you, do you? Good luck with that!" he drawled out over Sam's laughs. "What are you gonna do—quote rules at us?"
"Hmm," Raphael hummed thoughtfully. He motioned to pull the zipper down a little on the jacket and Gabriel nodded. The Healer carefully unzipped the jacket enough to reveal the boy's pink sweaty face. "Hello, Samuel. Could you use a little help?"
Sam tucked his hair behind his ears and nodded without moving his head away from Gabriel's chest.
Raphael moved closer and whispered in the boy's ear, "You may have better luck using your grace to get his wings. Especially midway on the second set and the very tips of his first set."
"Oh!" Sam gasped, eyes bright and wide with excitement.
"Nope, nope, nope!" Gabriel pushed Raphael away and zipped the hoodie back up. "No wing tickling until we're back on Earth, thank you brother. I'm calling a truce!" With their luck, Sam would get too enthusiastic and burn half of Gabriel's wings with lightning before they were done.
It didn't take them long to reach Heart Hall. Most of the angels had cleared out from earlier—probably Michael's orders. Oddly enough, the Commander himself had chosen to wait around with Sariel. Gabriel frowned at him, wondering why the eldest archangel would remain when he knew his presence caused Sam discomfort.
"My apologies, Gabriel. I meant to be in the Garden already. I have a meeting with Bobby Singer there soon but I got caught up in conversation. I trust all is well?" Michael looked them all over, frowning slightly as he looked at the boy.
Sam tensed inside the jacket at Michael's voice. Gabriel rushed to assure him, wrapping even more grace around the fledgling and running his fingers through his hair. Shh, little one. He will not come near you nor touch you. You are safe now.
I was told you left the Garden quite a while ago, the Commander's voice whispered in Gabriel's mind.
Because of course Michael knew they'd left the Garden over an hour ago. Damn overprotective older brothers, Gabriel sighed to himself. "All is well, bro. Just swung by the nursery to show Sammy all the gloriousness he'd be missing out on by not staying in the grey-purple room full of creepy tanks. He thinks we all need to take decorating classes and I have to agree with him on that. Our nursery definitely sucks to any little one who has, like, actual eyes."
Michael tilted his head, unsure whether or not to be amused. "I will take that under advisement. Are you returning to the bunker?"
"Yup!" Gabriel said loudly. He saw the sad glances being exchanged between the two Caretakers and rolled his eyes. "And I'm taking Barry with us. We obviously need another guard member if this little tyke can slip out unnoticed like that. And I think we could use a second Caretaker on hand."
Michael turned to the seraphs who were staring at Gabriel in shock and smiled. "Of course, Gabriel. Anything you need is yours."
"Oh, Sammy, what do you think we should say we need, hmm? A luxury jet? Waterpark built into the woods? Maybe a chocolate river?" A hard pinch silenced him again.
How about a gag for rambling archangels? Sam grumped.
"Never mind. We'll get back to you on the chocolate river. I think we just want to go home right now."
"Then I wish you safe travels, brothers. And I shall take my leave." Michael nodded to them all and swiftly exited the Hall for the Garden. Several seraphs trailed after him, leaving only a dozen to witness their flight. Sariel broke off from the group and moved to stand beside Nuriel.
One angel approached Raphael carrying a bag. "Sir? I brought the items you requested."
"Ah, yes! Thank you very much. You have saved me a trip and possibly a few tears, I believe," Raphael said with a smile.
Gabriel moved closer to peek inside the bag and snorted. The cloth seams were nearly bursting from the weight of the books packed within. Although, from what he could see, they were much smaller and easier material to digest than the previous tomes the Healer had brought for their newest sibling.
"Nerds," he whispered.
What is it? Sam asked.
Gabriel grinned, happy to feel the boy's curiosity stirring now that his anxiety was tempered by grace. "Raph got your books delivered to him here. I think he's brought three times more than last time."
There was a surge of joy that went through the boy at the mention of books. But it contained a spark of shame and fear. Clearly, they still had some things to resolve when they returned home.
"Sir?" Sariel squinted at Gabriel in a confused way.
"Why do you keep calling me that, Sariel?" Gabriel groaned. She didn't answer—just kept staring at him. "Fine. What is it?"
"Is it customary for humans to carry their young inside their clothing?" she asked, looking pointedly at Sam.
Gabriel laughed loud enough to echo through the Hall. "No, Sariel. I've decided to be a trendsetter! In fact, if we get Morpheus to shift down and stuff him into Sam's shirt, then we can be like a magical turducken!"
He cackled at his own joke, not expecting anyone else to even get the reference. All the blank faces staring back at him just added to his merriment. But the sudden giggling from Sam was the best surprise.
Silence fell as the beautiful sound drew the attention of everyone in the Hall.
"Well, it's good to know someone in this family has a sense of humor!" Gabriel said when he could speak again.
"You need to ask Dean about the time he got stoned off a turducken sandwich," Sam managed to say between his laughter.
"Oh my Dad, that sounds like a story!" Gabriel gasped in delight.
Raphael nodded to him, indicating that it was time to go. The Healer then knelt down to speak with Morpheus. Sariel, Nuriel, and Barachiel joined him when he gestured them over.
"Alright, Sam. We're about ready to go in a minute, okay?" he said quietly.
Sam's fingers tightened their hold on his shirt. "Is it… can I keep my eyes closed?"
Gabriel could hear so many unasked questions in those first two words. Is it going to hurt? Is it going to be okay? Is it going to last forever? Is it going to be bad? He sighed and pressed a kiss to Sam's temple. "Yeah, bud. You can keep your eyes closed and stay right where you are the whole time. I'm going to dope you up on some extra grace, too. Okay? So it won't feel as long while we're flying. You'll be awake but loopy. Kinda like that gas at the dentist's office. Have you ever had that?"
"Yeah." Sam nodded. "I guess that'll be okay. I don't really want to feel like I can't breathe that long."
"I know, sweetheart." Gabriel started to increase the layers of grace around the boy, upping the intensity past what he usually used. He'd groomed Sam often enough to know his limits—had accidentally sent him into "somewhat stoned" levels in the early days. Now, it was intentional. "Hey, you know that song 'The Twelve Days of Christmas?'"
"Um, think so?" Sam mumbled, already feeling the effects.
"Well, when we start flying, I want you to start on the twelfth day in your head and sing it all the way down to 'and a partridge in a pear tree' for me, okay? And we'll be home!"
Tiny fingers wormed their way past the buttons to brush against skin. "Promise?"
"I promise, little one." Gabriel kissed his head one more time and nodded to Raphael. The angels stood and gathered closer. "Time to go home."
AUTHOR'S NOTE
HUGE SHOUTOUT TO MY DARLINGS: MonPetitTresor, TalkingToMyselfAgain, WhinyWingedWinchester, and ScrollingKingfisher...you four especially have seen me through these past two months. You are the reason there is a chapter that exists to read. You are the reason I am even still here. So...thank you
OMFG-TWO MONTHS!
TWO MONTHS SINCE AN UPDATE AND A LIFETIME HAS PASSED!
Thank you ALL for your patience. I've had several life-changing events occur including new meds and a break up (I was engaged, for those who didn't know). Now, I'm looking at moving and job searching and all kinds of FUN things.
But I'm still here. I'm still writing. I'm still alive! And I want to thank ALL OF YOU for sticking with me and this series...because it has really been keeping me going through this difficult time...even when I could only write a sentence or two a day.
NOW, this chapter...did NOT go according to plan! So, next chapter, we will have an interlude where we get to see EVERYTHING THAT'S BEEN HAPPENING AT THE BUNKER SINCE SAM FLEW OUTTA THERE!
THANK YOU AGAIN!