Sam opened his eyes to bright, white light. He was dead. He died and Heaven had a serious problem with brightness. He blinked a few times and realized he was staring at a couple of fluorescent lights. This couldn't be Heaven, then. Heaven would use greener sources of lighting. Slowly, he looked around and saw he was in the hospital. Shit. He wasn't dead. Dean was going to kill him.

Suddenly, he was aware of someone holding his hand. Gabriel gripped his hand tighter as he leaned forward in the hospital chair next to Sam's bed.

"Sam?" he said.

Sam looked at his friend, confused, "Gabe?"

"Oh, thank God," Gabe sighed with a shaky smile. He quickly stood and shut the door to Sam's room.

Locking it, he said, "Dean's going to rush in here, but I'm going to talk to you first." Sam saw a bit of fire in his friend's eyes, which was enough to keep him quiet. He knew Dean would wind up breaking down the door if he realized he was barred from Sam. Gabe was risking his life to talk to him.

"Okay," Sam said quickly, realizing Gabe was waiting for him to acknowledge his words. Gabriel grabbed Sam's hand again but didn't sit down.

"You've been out for two days, you stupid, sorry, son of a bitch. How could you be so stupid? Do you know how scared we've all been?" he said, trying to keep himself calm.

Sam felt the tears forming in his eyes. He knew he was going to hear much worse from Dean, but it still hurt to hear. He didn't want to hurt them. He just wanted the rest of everything to stop.

Gabe sighed, sat down, and ran this thumb over the back of Sam's hand.

"Dammit, Sam. Well, I'm sure Dean will lay into you more later, but that's not what I wanted to tell you," Gabe said. He swallowed and stared at Sam's hand. Sam watched as Gabriel locked eyes with him, amber eyes pouring into hazel.

"After what happened with Lucifer," Gabe said, making Sam smile faintly at the nickname, "I knew you were pretty messed up. So, I didn't want to say anything. I knew you needed space. But after this? I can't—I was trying to give you time when I said we should just be friends. I'm in love with you, Sam, and I have been for a really long time. You need to know that."

Sam stared at Gabe, took in his friend's intensity, and felt a potent combination of happiness and guilt. Gabe loved him…and he tried to kill himself. He must've put Gabe through Hell. Oh, God.

"Oh my God," Sam breathed, trying to think straight. Gabe went to retract his hand from Sam's but Sam tightened his grip.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Sam asked.

Gabe stared at their hands when he answered, "I didn't want to be a rebound for you. I wanted you to have time for yourself, time to heal…I wanted you to choose me because you wanted me, not because I was already there. I wanted you to be okay."

Gabriel met Sam's eyes and said, "I still want you to have time, Sam. I shouldn't have told you now. But these two days, Sam? The last two days? I thought you were— I realized I had to tell you and explain, because I may not get the chance to later. I don't even care if I'd be a rebound at this point, just as long as you would be okay." Sam looked away out of guilt.

"I'm sorry, Gabe," he muttered. Gabe stood up and brushed Sam's hair out of his face gently.

"Don't be sorry," he said, "Just never, ever, scare me like that again."

The door handle jiggled a bit followed by a growled "Gabriel…" from Dean.

Gabe smiled at Sam and said, "I should probably open that."

Before Gabe got to the door, Sam said, "For the record, you wouldn't have been a rebound." His friend paused at the door as loud banging ensued on the other side. Quickly, he met Sam's gaze.

"What?" he asked Sam quietly.

Dean shouted, "Gabriel, so help me, if you do not open this door—"

"Keep your pants on!" Gabe shouted back. He crossed back over to Sam in an instant despite the ruckus Dean was making. Sam could hear Cas trying to calm Dean down.

"Care to run that by me again, Sam?" Gabe asked.

Sam looked up at Gabe full of remorse and a need to confess, "You could never be a rebound. I would never hurt you like that. And you are the best person I've ever met. You've helped me in ways that I—It's an honor just to know that you even care about me. And you love me? I can't even—You don't know how long I've loved you, how long I—You deserve better than me."

"There is no one better than you," Gabe said.

"Gabe—"

Gabe cut him off with a soft, chaste kiss. It was a kiss that Sam returned instantly. "No one," he repeated, "Could ever be better than you. Not to me."

Dean continued to threaten the stability of the door.

"We're going to have to continue this later," Gabe said, "On account of Dean's about to take down the damn door." Sam watched him walk back to the door with a slight twinge of disappointment.

"But believe me," Gabriel added, "We will continue this later." The idea made Sam smile as Gabe allowed Dean to burst into the room. He mouthed a quick "Good luck" to Sam as his brother rushed to his bed.

Instantly, Dean wrapped his arms around Sam in a tight hug.

"Dammit, Sammy," his brother muttered against his shoulder.

"Hey, Dean," Sam said. Dean let go marginally but stared at Sam.

Dean's emotional shield held firm as he said, "The doctors are saying you're going to have to go to mandatory therapy. I talked to our insurance, and they'll cover it, but we're going to have to set up the first appointment by next week."

Sam nodded, "Makes sense. Suicide is a fellony. Better than getting fined I guess." Dean looked at him, and Sam saw his lip quiver for a moment.

Sam asked, "Dean?"

"I'm sorry," Dean said.

"What?" Sam asked.

Dean sighed, "I should never have let things get so bad for you. I had no idea. I'm sorry."

"Dean, this isn't your fault. I'm broken," Sam said, "This had nothing to do with you." Dean stared at him.

"Well, what were you thinking?" he asked.

"You don't want to know."

"Yes, I do. I'll rip up one of those free talking coupons when we get home. Just tell me. I want to know why you did it."

Sam sighed. He didn't want to tell Dean about this. He really didn't. How could he have been so stupid?

"I really don't want to talk about it," Sam tried.

"Sam," Dean said, tone sharp, "I need to know why my brother wanted to die. I need to understand how we're even in here right now."

"I didn't want to be in the way," Sam said. Dean's eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"You're not in the way," he said.

Sam shook his head. Dean didn't get it.

"Don't you think I see what's been going on?" Sam said, trying not to cry, "Charlie and Dorothy try to keep their distance, Gabriel tip-toes around me, and you...You and Cas hold back so much more if you know I'm there. I see it. I'm a burden to all of you, and I don't want to be. I just wanted it to stop hurting so much."

He felt a tear escape his eye.

Sam's brother hugged him.

"You're so wrong," Dean said quietly, "We only care about you. We don't want to accidentally hurt you. I never know where you're at. I'll try not to be so careful around you, but I don't know what's going on in your head. I need to know you're okay."

Sam sighed, "I don't want to bother you with my problems. You have a life. I don't want to be in the way-"

Dean released Sam and stared at him with an intensity that he seemed to pick up from Cas. "Don't," he said, "Don't you dare think that there's anything, past or present, that I would put in front of you."

Sam couldn't hold himself back anymore. He hugged Dean and cried onto his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Sam said, voice shaking much more than he was comfortable with. And he was. He was so sorry.

"It's okay," Dean muttered, "It's okay. You're okay. Everything's okay." Sam didn't want to think about how scared Dean had been. From the way he was hugging Sam, he could only guess. Dean took a deep breath and let Sam go again.

"They're only letting one person in the room at a time, and there are other people that want to see you and talk to you," Dean said.

He stood up, and Sam watched him cross to the door. Before he opened the door, he stopped and walked back to Sam's bed.

His brother said, "Don't you ever do that again. I don't care what's going on in your head. Nobody cares that you're broken. We're here for you. Don't you do this. Ever. There ain't no me if there ain't no you. Got it?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah. I got it." He felt like crap, he was really tired, and seeing the dried blood on Dean's shirt made him feel guiltier than he ever had. He'd make this right.

"I'm going to let other people in, now, okay?" Dean said.

Sam nodded again.

Dean opened the door and said quickly, "I'm glad you're okay, Sammy."