(So, originally, this was supposed to be a one-shot, but I decided to add two more chapters, one today and one tomorrow. Enjoy!)

The second time they had to give Gabriel his injection, it went much better. Mostly because Dean wasn't in the room when it happened. Ten minutes before the dose was due, Sam asked his brother to go to the store and pick up an extra gallon of milk.

"But it's my plan!" Dean protested.

"I know," Sam told him. "It's a great plan. And Cas and I will carry out your plan exactly as you laid it out for us. You just can't be here."

"But it's my plan!"

"And it's a good plan, like I said. The two of us can handle it."

"You can't be the one every time," Cas added. "Gabriel might subconsciously come to associate you with pain in the-"

"Cas!"

"Besides," said Sam, "we do need milk. I promise I'll let you be in the room for the next one. You can't hold the needle, though."

"Why not? It's my-"

"If the word plan comes out of your mouth one more time, Dean, so help me, I'll shoot you. We'll handle the plan. You just go get milk. It'll be over before you get home."

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

"Go!" Cas urged him.

In the end, grumbling, Dean went. It was a brilliant plan. It might be the best plan that had ever been planned. And it was his plan, dammit!

Sam knew they didn't have much time. The store was only ten minutes away; if they wanted to get this done before Dean came back, they'd have to work quickly.

"I'll talk," he said, handing the needle to Cas. "You deliver. Keep it out of sight until I give you the signal."

"Is it necessary," the angel asked, "to inject him in the-"

"No. The arm will work just as well. The important thing is that he doesn't see the needle."

"He'll know it's coming."

"I know. We have to keep his mind off it so he doesn't . . . get upset."

"That's an understatement."

"Yeah, well . . . come on. We don't have much time."

They found Gabriel trying to get out of bed, but unable to hold himself up for too long. His arms were shaking, and his face was covered in sweat. He tried one more time and then collapsed against the pillow, breathing hard.

"What are you doing?" Cas asked him.

Gabe closed his eyes for a second and moaned. "I just wanted to go to the bathroom on my own! But I can't even sit up!"

"We left you a container for that purpose."

"I just want to stand on my own two feet for once! I hate being so weak, and helpless, and powerless!"

"It won't last much longer," said Sam. "Once you get better, your grace should start recovering, and then you'll be back to your old self."

Gabriel was shaking his head. "You don't get it, do you, Samsquatch? I'll never be the same again! Not after what . . . what he did to me. Do you know what it's like to have every bone in your body broken, systematically and repeatedly? To have my mouth sewn shut when he got tired of hearing me screaming? And then to be drained of my grace, bit by bit, day after day, like-like a damn milk cow!"

It was a good thing Dean wasn't there, Sam thought. He wouldn't have been able to help laughing at that mental image. And laughter, at that moment, would not have been a good thing.

Sam didn't laugh. Neither did Cas.

After a moment, Gabriel caught his breath. Then he reached for the container and used it, under the covers. He finished, cleaned his hands with a wipe from the package beside the bed, and then said, "All right. Do what you came here to do. I'm ready."

"You know?" Sam asked.

"I didn't think you were here to talk about the weather. Let's go, let's get it over with. Should I roll over?"

"No, just roll your sleeve up a bit. I can give it to you in the arm."

"So you don't need to-"

"No. Gabe, we don't want to play games with you. We don't want to trick you, or deceive you, or treat you like a child or an idiot. We just want to help. Now roll up your sleeve, and I'll let you know when to look away."

"I thought I was doing it," said Cas.

Sam looked at him. "Do you want to?"

"I thought that's what we were doing."

"All right, fine. I'll give you the signal, and you go ahead and do it. But no more behind-the-back stuff. No more plans."

"Dean will be so disappointed."

"I'll talk to Dean. Just get ready."

Gabriel sat up as much as he could and started rolling up the sleeve of the T-shirt he was wearing as a pajama top. It was one of Sam's old ones, so there was quite a lot of rolling involved. The shirt pretty much covered Gabe's entire body; the shorts he wore underneath were all but invisible. Dean might have made a comment about the shirt looking like a dress; another reason that Sam was glad he wasn't here.

"Is that enough?" Gabe looked down at the exposed skin of his upper arm.

Sam nodded. "That's fine. You can look away and brace yourself now."

"You won't . . . take anything from me, while you're in there?"

"Gabriel," Sam said slowly, "I give you my word that we will not take your grace from you without your consent. Your body is your own; we won't force anything on you without telling you first. Are you ready?"

Gabe turned his head toward the wall and squeezed his eyes shut. "Okay, go ahead."

Cas stepped forward and plunged the needle into his brother's arm. When it was empty, he withdrew it and quickly stuffed it into his pocket, point-up so he didn't stab himself. "There. It's done."

"And only four more to go," Gabriel said with fake cheerfulness. "Can't wait."

There was a shout from out in the hall. "Hey, guys? I got the milk."

"We're in here," Sam called out to him.

A moment later, Dean appeared in the doorway. "Milk's in the fridge. Now we can-"

"Dean," said Cas. "We've already done it."

Dean looked from Cas to Sam, who nodded, and then to Gabe, who was rubbing his arm and leaning back against the pillow. "You didn't wait for me?"

"We didn't want to leave it too long," said Sam.

"But what about the plan? I had a plan! I planned it!"

"Plans change. You can do the next one."

Gabriel looked terrified at the prospect of Dean administering the next injection. But when the time came, it was Sam who did the deed, after a chat about comic books and an episode of Doctor Who.

"How did I not see this before now?" Gabe asked, as he rolled up his sleeve and braced himself. "I mean, I heard of it. I knew it was out there. I just never needed to see it for myself before. I guess there really is more to life than porn."

The fourth time, Cas came in alone. Gabriel seemed surprised to see him on his own, with no Winchesters backing him up.

"Where is it?" he asked as soon as Cas had crossed the threshold.

"Where is what?"

"You know what. I know you have it with you. Where is it?"

Cas looked down at the floor for a second. "It's in my pocket," he said.

"Well, go on. Get it over with. I'll close my eyes and count to three, and you just do it."

"Gabriel . . . I don't want to hurt you."

"Hurt me?" The archangel laughed bitterly. "There's nothing you can do to hurt me worse than . . ." He trailed off and stared at the wall. For a second, Castiel contemplated seizing his chance and doing it then, but he held back for a moment. Not yet.

"Gabriel, I . . . I wish I could have done something to help you, but we didn't even know you were still alive! We wouldn't have just abandoned you-"

"You were saving the world, Cassie." Gabriel looked tired and resigned. "In the face of that, what does one wayward angel matter?"

"You matter." Cas laid his hand over his brother's. "You matter a lot. Not just to me. To all of us. We want you to get better."

"All of you?"

"You know Sam cares about you. Dean cares, too, in his own way. He uses sarcasm and crude humor to hide his fear and pain. Just like you do."

"Yeah?"

"He would never admit it, but . . . I think the reason you get under his skin so much is that he recognizes how much alike you two are. You pretend that nothing bothers you, when deep down . . . deep down, you feel everything. You just don't want to admit it."

Gabriel stared at him for such a long time that Cas wondered if he should perhaps come back later. Then the elder angel said, "Where is the little fledgling with the beautiful wings who asked me so many questions? How did you get so wise?"

"By making mistakes," Cas told him. "A lot of them. Including the one that cost me my wings. I know what it's like to feel powerless, and weak, and in pain. We want to help you. That's all."

"You want my grace. Sam said you need it for a spell."

"We won't take it from you without your consent. If you can't give it, we'll find another way. Your days of being a-how did you put it?-a 'damn milk cow' are over."

In spite of himself, Gabriel smiled. "That sounds so funny coming out of your mouth. Okay, go ahead. This is it, right? This is the last one?"

"No. There are two more tomorrow."

"But I feel a lot better!"

"The doctor specified that the entire course of medication had to be followed. Even if you're feeling better. You won't get well unless you complete the treatment."

Gabriel pouted. "Fine. As long as it's you that does it. I trust you."

"You're going to be okay, Gabriel. I promise you."

Gabriel looked away and shut his eyes tightly. "I'll never be okay again," he said, bracing himself for the sting of the needle. "But I'll survive."

(Final chapter up tomorrow!)