Sabriel at Heart
Sam gaped as he looked at the man before him, his jaw hitting his chest in shock. It was Gabriel. Gabriel was back.
"G-G-" Damn, his brain could no longer perform coherent thoughts as the angel walked over to him.
Gabriel reached up, stroking Sams hair away from his face like the man had done to him just an hour or so previously, trying to bring his hunter back to him. "Sam, are you alright?"
No, this could not be Gabriel. He was dead, and he would certainly never ask if he was 'alright'. He was more likely to try and kill him, more than likely in a way that was meant to embarrass him and humiliate him in the progress.
"Gabriel?"
Sam took every ounce of the man in, hungrily devouring him with his eyes whilst he could. He was a lot bigger now, although still much shorter than Sam, probably around 5"8 or somewhere near that, his face all Cheshire cat grin and honey coloured mischievous eyes. His green jacket and worn jeans fit his body snugly and… God, Sam was in trouble.
"Yeah, it's me Sam… I honestly thought you would remember me without this," he sighed sadly, removing his hand away from the human to indicate to his body. "C'mon! Candy Man? How many angels do you know who actually eat? I thought it would be obvious, but no! Just like Dean, so stupid at heart. I made it so clear to you, Moosey, but you didn't get it… You hate me again, don't you?"
Sam did not reply, instead his fingers curled up and he brought his fist into the shorter mans jaw with enough force to throw him to the floor. Usually, an angel would be practically unmoved, and the human would be left with broken fingers as if they had just punched a steel wall. But Gabriel had seen it coming and had reigned in his powers and let the man hit him like he would another human, fairly. He deserved it, in his eyes.
"That's for everything in the Mystery Spot!" Sam growled, bending down to grip the front of Gabriel's shirt and punch his face again. "That's for TV Land!" Another blow to the face. "And that's for leaving me!" He released the man and stood back taking a few gasping breaths to calm himself. He looked back at the angel lying on the floor. There was a smearing of blood under his nose and his eyes were filled with so much pain – although both of the men knew that the pain was not physical.
"I am sorry, Sam," the angel whispered, swiping a hand at his face to remove the blood and the beginning of tears which he would forever deny lay on his cheeks.
Sam just growled again and watched the other man wince in fear. "Don't," he managed, as the red haze cleared and he saw clearly for the first time since the angel had walked in, looking so damn pleased with himself.
He walked forward again and ignored the way the angel shrunk back away from his touch as he grabbed his wrist and hauled him to his feet. He steadied the man before pulling him to his chest and holding him there in an unbearably tight embrace. "And that's for coming back."
Had he been a human, Gabriel would definitely have more than a few broken ribs with the vigour which the Sasquatch was gripping him with, but he didn't mind. He just wrapped his arms around his waist and let his head fall on the mans chest.
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ONE DAY EARLIER
Dean walked into the motel room to find his brother on the floor and the chick he had invited in on the bed bloody. He dropped his bag carrying their breakfast in to the floor and rushed to his brother, flipping him onto his back and pushing his fingers to his neck, searching for a pulse. A dry sob escaped him when nothing beat against his fingertips. He held his brother for a moment before going to the woman and repeating the process with her. She was alive!
Something had seriously messed up her face though, although it did look kind of familiar – damn his brain in the morning! How the hell hadn't he noticed that!
"C'mon, wake up," he shook the woman's shoulder, taking her hand and squeezing it to try and get her to come around. It took a few more shakes before her lashes fluttered and opened, causing him to hold back a gasp. One of her eyes opened slightly, the skin surrounding it too swollen to fully open, to reveal a glimpse of sparkling grey, whilst the other opened completely to reveal an empty socket, bleeding as it stared up at him.
"Dean? Dean Winchester?" she asked, her voice small as she pulled herself out of his grasp and into a sitting position.
"Yeah, I'm Dean – now what the hell happened?" Usually, the elder Winchester would not be as brash, but his brother was dead and now he had a girl that should be dead with her injuries to look after. "And who the hell are you?"
"Quite the opposite," she smiled sadly, running a hand through her tangled auburn locks. "I am Valoel, Angel of the Lord and of peace."
At those words, Dean dropped her hand and stood away from her and moved back to his brother. "Fix him," he ordered, sitting besides the dead body and brushing his fingers repeatedly through his brothers long brown fringe. "Bring him back."
The angel shuffled to the edge of the bed and bent to rub absently at her aching feet. "He is already being saved," she answered after a while, meeting the mans eyes with her own. "This was planned. He shall return."
"Wait, err, Val-noel," he muttered, trying to think clearly. His brother was dead. A part of him wanted to lie down beside him and just wait for something to bring him back like it always did. Another part of him wanted to cry, scared that this was the last time his brother would die, that he wouldn't come back. "This was planned?"
"Yes. Sam agreed to help my brother. He agreed for this to happen." She stood and held out a cut hand to the man, waiting until he took it and had pulled him up and sat him on the bed furthest from the body until she continued. "Heaven is failing. I came here to bring peace to Earth and all of its inhabitants."
"And how the hell- sorry, heaven – are you going to accomplish that? We have been trying forever to bring some peace, but we ain't got nowhere. What makes you think you can?"
"It is my job. It is what my Father made me to do."
"Then where were you when the apocalypse came? We could've used some damn peace then!"
"My older brothers are not as… susceptible, I suppose, to what I do as humans are. I plan to bring peace to humans and angels. I am not sure what effect I will have on demons, though. I am sure we will find out soon."
As she spoke two men appeared in the room besides the door. One was in a tracksuit and seriously overweight, whilst the other was wearing heavy gothic clothes, including the facial studs and chains across the body. At first glance of the second man, Dean had guessed he was a demon and pulled Ruby's blade out from the back of his jeans, prepared to fight.
"Hello, Valoel," the heavy man grinned, reminding Dean of the time he had met that cupid, a repressed shudder escaping him at the thought of their handshakes. The mans face changed as she looked up at him, "Jeez, little sister, what happened?"
"Demons," she answered, deadpan.
"Why haven't you healed yourself?" the Goth answered, taking a few steps towards her and brushed her hair away from her face with the back of his hand. "Would you wish me to?"
"No, Zadkiel. I am fine. It is time, for me, is all. I am not afraid."
"But-" the man by the door began before being cut off by the Goth with a wave of his hand. "Yes, sir."
"I have faith in you, little sister," Zadkiel murmured, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "Joseph here has faith, also. He just fears for you."
"I appreciate it, brothers, but you must do your job as I must do mine. Take the Winchester body and make sure that when he is brought down that all goes well." She caught the glance the men gave each other and she released Dean to walk to Joseph and stand eye-to-eye with him. "You will tell me the fault, Joe."
The larger man winced as he took in all of her injuries now that she was so close to him. He could smell the blood. "We have a problem with the Winchesters soul."
"What?!" Dean yelled, jumping to his feet to glare at the Goth who was stood patiently at the side.
"The incident with Mammon has affected Samuel. A team has set out to save him before anything can happen, though. He will not remember it when he revives."
"Is he going?" she asked pointedly, ignoring the way Joseph was cringing beneath her stare.
"Like he would let his humans life rest in anybodies hands but his own!" Zadkiel scoffed. "Of course he went! The moment I told him what was happening, he told most of the heavenly host to – and I quote – 'stick it where the sun don't shine, I am getting my Sammy!' What were we to do? Chain him to the bed? Tried it. He got out. I sectioned off the corridors so he wouldn't be able to escape but he has always seen through illusions, hasn't he? Look, Valoel, we tried – we honestly did – but he's gone after the Winchester boy. If he survives, it will be a miracle. If he can get the Winchester to agree and help him, then I will do whatever he wishes, and I dare not say that lightly, had he heard me. He cares for Samuel, and he would die for him – he has died for him. The team that was sent alongside him is several of our best in the garrison. Whether he is one of the few to survive or not will remain with fate."
"And we all know what is gonna happen then, don't we?" Joseph sighed. "He slept with her and left before he could even say thanks! How do you think she is going to repay him if she finds out he gets to choose whether she lives or dies?"
A heavy silence fell over the room and even Dean felt the urge to keep it so. But angels being angels, they did not seem to notice that. "Well, I have faith in him," Valoel smiled sadly, moving to take a seat again on the bed. "Simply take the body and be done with it. I will finish my duty here and I wish for you to do the same."
When the angels moved to take Sams arms, Dean could not stop himself from rushing forwards to stop them. "Get off Sammy!" he roared, aiming his blade at the taller angel, slightly below his chain style collar.
"What do you want, older Winchester? If we leave him here, our brothers would have died for nothing and Sam won't come back. He will simply rot away on the floor. We take him with us, then Samuel comes back and we get to have our brother return to us with a purpose, not just a burnt out shell of what he used to be. This works better our way, so back the fuck off," he ordered. Dean complied, dazedly, and took a step back. "Good bye, Valoel. May Father bless your grace and bid you a safe journey onwards. I love you."
"May Father bless your grace and bid you a safe journey onwards. I love you, little sister," Joseph repeated, taking a firmer hold of the limp body and they vanished, taking him to someplace safer.
Dean didn't speak. He just let his knees give way and collapsed to the floor where his brother had been previously, curling up and letting his sobs take over.
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ONE DAY EARLIER
When Dean awoke again, he was lying on the bed, his head lying atop a woman's breast. 'Man that must have been one hell of a dream-'
He stroked a path across the stomach he could see and felt a shudder run in the body beneath him. Wait, that was not-
"Are you awake now, Dean?" Valoel asked, running her hand up his frozen arm to try and wake him. "Dean?"
"It was all real," he realised, still unmoving from his position atop the angel. He was lying alongside her with an arm wrapped around her waist and his head on her chest, her arms circled around his body in comfort. "It's real."
"Yes, I am sorry, Dean. But he will come back. I promise. Once I am dead, he will return."
"Whoa, dead?" he lifted his head so he could look into her one good – well, okay-ish – eye. "What are you talking about?"
She met his gaze and gave one of the sad smiles that he now acknowledged as her signature, like Castiel's head tilt. "My death will bring peace on Earth. When I am gone, all this will change."
"And you're cool with that?" he asked incredulously.
"I am not certain of the term you use, but I am not scared of Death. The man is actually quite nice. The afterlife, however, I worry about."
"Surely all angels go to heaven? I mean, err, your father let you live there in life. Why not in death?"
"For that exact reason. Heaven is the way it is to you because it is so much better than where you were during life. Earth is our heaven, in a way; it has beauty and choice which cannot even be conceived in my home."
"So… you guys come to Earth?"
She just smiled again and brushed a hand through his hair, distracting him. "Let us not talk of such things, yes? I would rather spend my last few hours in peace, rather than angst."
Dean let his head rest down for a few moments more, letting the angel take some comfort in him as much as he was taking it from her. They lay there, holding each other, ignoring the tears of each other, pretending they didn't exist.
A few hours later, when they were both out of tears and feeling like they were running out of time, they detangled themselves from each other and stood, not meeting each others gaze.
"Hey," Dean whispered, catching her hand and giving her a weak smile as he tried to make a joke, "don't tell anybody about that. Can't let them know I indulged in a chick-flick moment – it will ruin the bad boy image I have worked so hard on."
She smiled back, this time with a little amusement. "I shall take it to the grave," she replied.
They took the impala. Dean drove, taking instructions from the angel who sat behind him, lying on the back seat and hiding from prying eyes. It did not take long for them to reach the building. It was large and had columns surrounding it, made solidly of stone and outside, the paparazzi swarmed around it making the entrance invisible, like they were vultures to a carcass.
"Will this take long?" Dean asked, breaking the silence that had ensued since they had arrived.
"It should not. My brothers are waiting inside. We will end this today. I implore you to keep away from this car Dean, to keep away from the television box or radio or anything else electrical which carries a signal. You will not like what you see or hear."
"But what about you?"
She tilted her head as she appraised him. "Dean Winchester; the righteous man. You truly are a wondrous thing, you know that, correct?"
"Hey, I'm only looking out for the damsel in distress," he grinned.
"I am not in distress. But I thank you anyway. You humans are not as bad as Zachariah made you out to be, for hairless apes."
She chuckled silently as Dean got out of the car. She certainly did not expect it when he opened her door and leaned in to take her hand. He helped her out and gave her a brief hug as she sighed; realising now was the moment she died. "Just doing the chivalrous thing," he whispered.
"Goodbye, Dean. Sam shall be with you soon." She reached up to place a bloody kiss to his cheek, ignoring the way her burned flesh stung at the contact and vanished from his sight. Dean got back into his Chevy and drove off, heading to the nearest place he could go for a walk and try to keep away from all things electrical, like she had warned.
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ONE DAY EARLIER
Valoel reappeared back inside the building and walked up to her brothers who were waiting by the stairwell. They turned their heads to the ground when they saw her vessels state and held their tongues from striking.
"Zadkiel sent me," Joseph said, appearing beside her and beginning to lead her up the stairs. "He says to tell you that Gabriel is alive. He has Sam Winchester. Only two of our brothers died along the way."
The news that two of her brothers were dead was not good, but it was a victory compared to how many had died in times previous in rescue missions from hell. "And how is the souls condition?"
"Slightly damaged but none worse for wear… Only Gabriel's mark has claimed his physical body."
It was a curious thing how reuniting the human soul to the body worked, but it was surely a miracle that he had come out of it relatively unharmed. "And knowing Gabriel it will be awkward to explain to anyone who sees it?"
Joseph bellowed with laughter as he caught her innocent meaning, having to lean against the banister rail as he wiped unshed tears from his cheeks as he blew out his breath. "Oh, Valoel, you have not been on Earth long, yet it still has corrupted you," he chuckled, straightening and wrapping a beefy arm around her waist in a very platonic way. "No, they did not allow Gabriel to brand him there, although he did surely try to, from what I heard. But yes, it is unlike his brothers," he grinned.
"Then all is well for him. How is Zadkiel faring?"
"He is doing well, little one. He is nearly finished repairing Gabriel's previous body. Only the lower extremities to deal with now."
"Gabriel would certainly not wish us to disturb or rush him whilst working on those parts then," she smiled, as they exited the staircase and the man beside he rearranged his features to that of his body a thousand years previous, knowing nobody would recognise it and it would cause no issue with the humans alive today. He gripped her wrists behind her back and began to march her across the roof until she was stood on the edge, looking down at the people so far below her, so small from this height. She heard the cries of shock as they saw her face, as the camera's zoomed in to take in the horrific sight that was now her body.
"This is what you wanted!" her brother, Locrathan, boomed through his loudspeaker, the sound coming out a thousand times more powerful, reaching the audience and there cameras below. "We told you we had her! We warned you of what we would do! Now, listen!" Her brother went on in a rant, sounding both crazed and logical at the same time, somehow. He managed to include everything in his speech from religion to politics to culture and everything in-between. He had everybody on the edge off their metaphorical seats as he spoke, his voice a beacon of both hope and joy to the listeners.
She knew that by now, the elder Winchester would have heard some of the news, but also knew he would have left his vehicle and electronic devices the moment he could, though. She only hoped he didn't see or hear the ending.
"Your choice, humans!" he finished, taking a step back so the world could wait for a moment.
Joseph gripped her tighter and pushed her feet over the edge, still keeping hold of her, letting her dangle mid-air as she kept perfectly still, unlike what any other woman would do in said situation.
Shrieks let out from below as she reached back and grabbed onto the lapel of her brother and pulled something large and hard from his pocket and threw it to the ground. The device – kindle, Joe supplied in her head – dropped to the ground so very far below her and exploded into a hundred little pieces, shocking the audience into silence.
She was pulled back onto the ledge and she caught hold of her brother and held to him, trying to regain the breath she had been holding. This was all planned, but it was still hard for her. She hated confrontation. But in the state the world was in now, you had to use violence to regain peace – although to her brothers, that seemed a little like screwing around for virginity. They did not understand. It was not the violence that would shock the people into more rational behaviour, but fear. Fear would make the humans more… compliant.
Locrathan stepped forward again, wearing the Saxon he had owned since he had first come to Earth. Those eyes were hard, evil. They were why he had been chosen to do this. This was why he would kill his sister.
"We want the wars to end. We want the violence to stop. Apparently this is the only way to get what you want nowadays. We are few, a small group with a large aim. What do you think will happen if a larger group comes along with the same ideas we have? How many people will they injure to get what they want? How much damage will they feel the need to cause before they get what they want? We are relatively small. Consider that."
He withdrew his blade; the one designed specifically to kill angels, and pointed it at the sky. Valoel was 'forced' to walk back to the edge and stand tall when her shoulders slumped. Everybody saw her body and knew who she was despite the injuries. She was Clarita Hernandez, daughter of some Prince in Europe and worldwide icon for beauty and innocence. That was what made what had happened to her even worse.
He brought down the blade and sliced of her feet, one by one, and threw them over the edge into the audience. With each second that went by, the angels started a chant which rose into the sky.
"Peace. Peace. Peace. Peace," they cried, not looking at their sister, unable to see the pain in her eyes.
As Locrathan went to cut off her hands, she began to sing, her voice catching on the loudspeaker and reigning down to the cameras below. The footage was being streamed live to every television, to every radio an audio descriptive of the events. They all heard her song.
The words were in a language Earth had long since forgotten, but the meaning behind them still shone through though. Hope. It was a song of pure hope.
As she lost her dress, now naked before the world as they carved into her chest, she sung louder, forcing her words into the heart of everyone listening. 'Peace, endless peace, and joy and hope and love. Can you all not see that?'
As she finished the final note, the blade was drawn across her throat, opening up her arteries and letting the blood fall down the valley between her breasts, down her legs and to the floor and audience below.
"May Father bless your grace and bid you a safe journey onwards," Locrathan whispered before plunging the blade into her heart and ending her, looking into her eyes as she died. She mouthed 'goodbye,' and gave him a look of understanding before her body was released and she fell off the building, crashing to the ground below.
Screams rang out, and people began to rush back, avoiding the blood spatter that shot across the audience. The crowd quickly disappeared and the angels walked in a slow haze back inside the building before sending themselves away before the police arrived. The job had been done. But had it been enough?
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PRESENT DAY
Sam never wanted to move again. He was perfectly content in simply holding the archangel in his arms and breathing in his soft, sugary scent - the man clearly ate too much candy since the smell of chocolate and caramel was wafting from his body thickly.
The angel simply held him, every couple of minutes adjusting his grip to ensure that he didn't let go of the human. He had buried his nose into the crook between Sams arm and chest, relishing in the feeling and savouring it, carding this memory away for later.
It was not until Sam felt his head drop forward that he realised how tired he was. Regrettably, he pulled back from the shorter man and simply looked into his eyes, a small smile on his face as the angel raised a hand to the hunters face. "Gabriel," he repeated, still amazed that the man was standing before him.
"Yeah, Sammy; in the flesh," he grinned, palming Sams cheek. "You have no idea-"
"Shut up…" the man ordered, stepping from the touch and looking down to the floor. "We need to talk, Gabriel."
"Can't talk if I have to shut up, now, can I, Moosey?"
Sam just sighed at the Candy Man's – seriously?! How the hell did he not realise that it was the Trickster?! – words and moved them to the living room, seating on the couch and staring at each other. "First of all… how are you alive? And what are you doing here?"
"My daddy brought me back, Sambo. He came to me, told me that I had a job to do. But he only brought me back; he didn't fix me. I've been in my true form in heaven, healing what was left of my grace whilst my brother tried to find me another vessel. He found me Angelo – perfect, right? But you saw him, how he seemed, appeared. Not very daunting, eh? So my brother, Zadkiel, told me had would repay my kindness from a century ago by attempting to repair my true vessel," he gestured to his body and spoke in a language Sam could neither comprehend nor repeat – his name, he realised. "He finished, as you can see. I feel like me again… And you know all the rest Sam. Got Val to give you a letter, you agreed to help me with this job-"
"I mean what are you doing here… with me?"
"Samuel," he began, crossing his ankles and folding his hands together as he rested his elbows on his knees, leaning forward to stare at something in the distance. Sam knew instantly that something was wrong the moment the angel used his name – his real, full name, not a stupid nickname or insult he had wittily thought of – and kept his gaze glued to the shorter man. "There are some things… Sam, you know what I know. My father did not tell me much at all about this, but he said I needed a human. So I got a human. Happy?"
It was all lies, Sam could tell. The angel may be serious, had been at the beginning at least, but at the end he lied. It was clear. "Why me?" Sam reiterated, choosing his words more carefully.
The trickster – hell, how did he never think that it was him… - kept looking into the distance, not meeting his eyes. "Because, Samuel, you are special. Not just to your brother; not just to my brothers and the world; but to me. You are kind and caring and have a pureness to you that not many possess. When many a man would've curled into a ball and cried, you stood tall and fought off that which most couldn't. You helped me to see that what happened with my brothers was wrong, and I… I like you, Sam. You mean a lot to me. I knew if I needed help from somebody else, it had to be you. It had to be. It's always been you, Sammy," he admitted, meeting the hunters gaze with his wet golden one. He was crying?
Sam reached forwards and brushed a strand of hair away from his face, realising only now how intimate the gesture was, but he no longer cared. He had Gabriel. That was enough. "Gabriel… I have to ask you something, and you gotta promise not to make a joke out of it and answer me honestly." He waited until the angel nodded before continuing. "I found, err, this mark. Like Deans. What do you know about it?"
The angel looked away, blood staining underneath his skin and making it obvious to Sam that he knew a lot about it. The blush made him smile slightly, but he kept his focus on the man, expecting an answer.
"You were supposed to die and come to heaven, Sam. That's what my brothers made sure of, that your soul would come up, not down. But… something got to you first. Whatever the hell it is that we are hunting; it found you and dragged you down. It took nearly thirty angels to bring you back; two of them were lost along the way. We had to fight the whole way down-"
"We?"
"Yeah, I was hardly gonna let a bunch of winged douchebags be responsible for my Sammy, am I? Of course I went with them."
Where Gabriels cheeks burned red, Sams skin turned a deathly shade of pale beneath his tan as realization hit him. "That's what those marks were on your back?"
The angel nodded. "Yeah, demons are a bitch, eh? You were quite far down – further than your brother had been – more proof that this is a nasty son of a bitch we are dealing with. I grabbed you and rode you out, held you in my arms until we got to somewhere safe and returned you to your body, which Zadkiel had kept safe for us. The reuniting of a human's soul with his body is… complicated. When death did it, it was clean, easy. When angels do it – even archangels – it is quite messy. The soul is already damaged, but putting it back into its body leaves a lasting mark on the connection point; the handprint. You're gonna have that for the rest of your life, I'm afraid, kiddo. Sorry."
"I can accept the fact that it was gonna leave a mark, but did you seriously have to leave it there? I can barely sit down without it hurting!"
The man smirked, looking more like the Trickster now than Sam could ever remember. "So you ain't pissed that I left my mark on your ass, you're pissed that it hurts to sit?"
Now it was Sams turn to turn red. "No, Gabe, I am pissed that you marked my ass, but one thing at a time."
"Well, ain't you lucky I got my healing hand back, then? C'mon, upstairs," he ordered, standing and leading Sam to his bedroom. Sam followed obediently, keeping his eyes on the archangel. Gabe opened the door and held it open for the human to walk in before shutting it. "Take off your jeans and lie on the bed."
"Wait, what?" Sams head jolted up, locking shocked eyes with the angel. "I thought angels could heal with just a simple touch to the forehead."
"Yeah, well I got my powers back a grand total of twenty minutes ago. They ain't as strong as your boy Cas', but they will be eventually. Now, if you want me to get rid of the pain, then lie down with your trousers off. If you would like. Otherwise, I am going to bed. I am exhausted, and really need the sleep – and before you say anything, yes, that is something else I have to do now."
Sam didn't know what to do. He didn't like the pain this mark gave him, but he didn't feel comfortable dropping his clothes in front of the man! In the end, the pro's outweighed the cons, and he took off his jeans, throwing them to the end of the bed before lying down on his back and waiting for the angel to walk over.
Gabriel didn't smile or look Sam in the eye when he moved over. He sat beside him and shimmered a blanket out of thin air to place it over Sam's groin. "I, err, gotta pull your boxers down, Sam, so keep yourself covered." He waited a moment for Sam to get a grip on the fabric before baring the welt to the open. His eyes lit up as he saw it, his mark on Sam Winchesters flesh, but Sam was not looking at his eyes. He was too busy trying to think of other things whilst he felt the angel's eyes near his junk. Gabe placed the heel of his palm on Sam's hipbone, and ran his fingers down, aligning his hand with the mark as he began to force some of his grace out, letting it touch the hunter and heal him.
Usually, it took about half a second to heal, and then the angel could battle demons and win. This time, it took eleven minutes, thirty seven seconds (not that Sam was counting or anything) and left Gabriel drained, covered in a cold sweat and light headed. When he was done, when he knew that Sam was no longer in pain, he pulled his hand away and felt his body collapse as his face came into contact with the pillow beside Sam.
Sam sat up, grateful that the ache and pain had gone, and slightly disappointed that the welt still looked new and sore, although it felt old, like a part of him he had always had. He pulled his shorts back on and leant over to the archangel. He took off the mans shoes and jacket, trying his hardest not to move and disturb him as he did so.
Lying back on the bed, he faced the angel and smirked, enjoying that he could take the mans features in without feeling judged. The man was beautiful, with his golden hair and eyes and his flawless skin. The fact that the man was quiet was, in itself, a miracle, that he was still, unbelievable. Sam felt something warm inside him as he smiled at Gabriel, curling up under the blankets as he pulled them over the pair of them, quickly falling asleep; human beside archangel.