This one's short, but I didn't know how to continue it without making a new chapter- it was the only good stopping point and I couldn't think of a better one.

I own nothing!

Please don't be mad at me for this!

"People'll pay through the nose for a night with you….

…. Worthless whore: you're just lucky I haven't killed you yet…"

Blazing hot, stretching pain tore at Gabriel's insides. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't… he heard himself screaming himself hoarse, begging and begging….

"No one can hear you, Birdie…"

Gabriel startled awake, feeling soiled and filmed over with sweat and cigar smoke. It made him want to crawl out of his skin, scratch and scrub at his grace until there was nothing left: was that what he wanted? For nothing to be left- did he even want to exist anymore? His heart pounded and his hands shook as he itched absently at his wrists.

It was still the middle of the night.

"Gabriel?" it was always in the middle of the night "What was it about this time?" they couldn't make it through a single night without the dreams. His mouth felt dry and spongy, his tongue filling every crevice with heavy blurriness. His throat was hoarse like he'd been screaming all night.

In a way, he had been.

"I- I don't…" he felt shaky and unstable. I don't know. He felt an intense urge at a new train of thought: he was so filthy. Why was he so dirty? He followed the idea and leaned forward, tackling Sam's lips with his own and straddling the Hunter's hips, suddenly completely desperate to feel anything but the grime that his grace wore as a second skin. He ran his hands over Sam's chest and sighed at the thudding pulse under his hands. There had to be a way to stop feeling so awful, and maybe Sam was the answer. He loved him; right? They loved each other.

He says it, but you don't actually believe him, do you? You've really sunken that low? Pathetic. You know this won't help, he doesn't care about you. Sam could do so much better, his own species, in his league. You're just another purebred bitch to take and dispose of. He's too polite to send you away. He's too sweet…. You know it's true.

"Gabe- Gabriel, hold on. Hold on a sec-" Sam pulled him off of where his lips sucked at his collarbone and looked down at him. He didn't even know he was crying until a big hand swiped gently under his eyes. Suddenly embarrassed, Gabriel swung away from Sam and turned his back on the hunter, wiping at his eyes.

"I- I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I-"

"Baby, no. I'm sorry- you aren't ready for this, it's not your fault…" the warmth of a palm on his back made the archangel jump and his breath hitch as he finally let out a sob. Sam knew. Sam knew it; he knew something about what was keeping him up and he-

"But why aren't I ready? Sam, I know you know." He turned around, looking into Sam's own hazel eyes that were full of their own tears. "What is it? Sam, I'm scared. I'm really, really scared. I don't know what's happening, and-"

"I'm so sorry…." It was a whisper. The most regretful whisper on the face of the planet and Gabriel just couldn't fathom why it made him so angry. "I'm sorry, Baby."

"Sorry for what?" he bit out through the tears that just wouldn't stop. He didn't care: maybe when they finally stopped, he'd be clean.

"I- I didn't tell you everything. I didn't know what you'd do, or how you'd react and I was… I was just trying to keep you safe."

"Sorry for what?"

"We found you strapped to a mattress in an old farmhouse. You were naked, unconscious, and beaten. There were bruises all over your thighs and- and blood-"

He woke up with a dazed feeling of confusion and blind fear.

He was alone in the dingy little bedroom, and his skin crawled with the burning between his legs. He tried so hard to let himself drift -find a headspace to disappear into where he wouldn't have to think about Carl Grayson- but he'd lost track of how many days he'd been used in the farmhouse. It didn't get better. It made him feel more and more weak, helpless, filthy. He deserved this; he had to. He was stupid to think he could escape or even survive this.

"Good morning, Birdie" he didn't even flinch; Carl was always somewhere nearby. He kneeled by Gabriel's side, casually resting a grimy hand over his knee. He tried not to squirm away, the scent of blood and holy oil thickening the air.

"Sto-op."

"Stop."

"You know what happens when you speak- do really want to push this?"

"Gabriel, there was so much blood- I thought I lost you again-"

His rough skin trailed up against his leg as he stroked upward, like Gabriel was some kind of pet: maybe he was. He didn't know anymore.

"P-pleee-ase..." the grip tightened over his upper thigh until he knew there would be fresh bruises.

"P-Pleaase... I'm sorry,-"

"Please what, Bitch? What do you want?" he was suddenly very close to him, breath puffing into his face, cigar smoke.

"Babe, I'm so sorry. I just wanted to-" a hand reached out to him, to cup his cheek and get him to focus.

A hand reached out and gripped his chin until he was biting the insides of his cheeks.

He couldn't breathe- he couldn't breathe

"PLEASE STO-OOPPP!"

He ducked away from the big hand, crouched on the floor by the bed with his hands trembling.

"A-are you ashamed of m-me...?" it took forever to get the stuttered words out, staring at the ground, blurred with hot tears. Why else would he hide it?

"What? Gabriel-"

"you can tell me... I- I'd u-un-derstand..." he would. There was nothing in the world that he would understand more.

"Gabe, no!-"

"Don't. Lie." he couldn't remember the last time he was this angry. How could he just hide that? "I might be an invalid, but I'm also an archangel as old as fucking time- and you can't just lie to me!" the long silence was broken only by the hoarse sobbing and Gabe drew his knees up to his chin, hiding hopelessly in his mind: doing anything he could to get Carl Grayson out of his damn head. He felt so sullied and dirty- worthless and violated like he never had before. He needed... he needed to scrub this film of him...

He cried all the harder: Sam was ashamed of him. Sam didn't want him. Sam was everything, and now he was nothing. How- how could he stay?

"Why did you even save me?" he whispered. Sam sat up in bed- completely dumbfounded and just watching as his archangel fell apart.