Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

One minute, Sam had been going to sleep on his comfortable bed in the bunker, memory foam and all. The next:

It was the heat of the moment,
Telling me what my heart meant

Sam’s heart sank. Despite the years that had passed, he still hated that goddamn song. Why would it be playing in his room in the bunker? He was just about to stand up and find Dean and ask him to please turn it off, but when he opened his eyes, he found himself in a very familiar motel room. It was beige and uncomfortable.

To his right, there was an old radio. Reading 7:30. Right in the middle of the chorus.

"Rise and shine, Sammy!"

Sam looked further to his right and caught the eye of a much younger Dean than he would have expected. Well, he was expecting it now that he realized where he was, but it was still startlingly strange to actually see.

"Dude. Asia." There was a clear smirk on his face. The same as every other Tuesday that he had woken up here.

Sam was sure that he looked like a moose in the headlights, but he got up and walked into the bathroom to get ready.

What the hell was going on? Was this some kind of djinn or other illusion creature? Probably not, he sure as hell didn't want to be here, so there's no way that a djinn was feeding off of him. It would also have to have been one hell of a powerful creature to put him through all of that. 11 years of whatever the hell that was definitely wouldn’t be easy to create.

Could he have just been in the time loop all this time? Unlikely. Why would Gabriel send him 'back' after those 6 months? It would be negating the lesson he was trying to teach, and all of that just to keep him in the time loop for whatever reason? Besides, he didn't think that Gabe was that cruel, nor did it seem 'fun enough' for his M.O.

So what the hell was happening? Who sent him here?

He was torn from his thoughts by a gurgling to his right, and as he looked over, Dean just turned and looked at him with a smile while he continued gurgling.

A second later, Dean spit the water out and asked, "Dude, are you feeling alright? You’re acting strange."

"Uh. Yeah, I just had a... strange dream." Might as well use the same excuse that worked for him before.

"Yeah? Clowns or midgets?"

The retort startled a laugh out of Sam. He had forgotten about that one. The laugh seemed to appease Dean, and he was able to slip away from the bathroom to think.

Sam sat at the edge of his bed. Guess he would live as normal as he could for now. He needed to meet with Gabriel, maybe he brought him back. He wrote a quick note on the small notepad in the motel room and placed it in his pocket, ready to slip to the “old man” having pancakes. Soon after, Dean came out of the bathroom, so far still alive.

He ruffled through his bag for a minute, and then pulled out a black, lacy bra.

"This yours? HA!" Sam didn't give that the dignity of a response besides a slight cringe.

"Well, those midgets must have got your panties in a twist, huh."

Without another word, Dean grabbed his gun and they walked out of the motel room.

---

Even before they walked into the doors of the diner, Sam had the note clutched in his hand, ready to slip to its intended recipient.

He was greeted by the familiar "Drive safe now, Mr. Pickett." and "Can't stay unless you order somethin, Cal. You know the rules."

As he walked towards their booth, he bumped into Gabe- well, into the old man. He slipped the note in his pants pocket, looking intentionally into his eyes for just a moment before sitting down.

"What was that about? You have beef with him I don't know about or somethin'?"

"Nah, must've just tripped over those midgets," Sam said with as much levity as he could muster.

Dean let out a quick laugh before Doris appeared.

"Are you boys ready?"

"Yes! I'll have the special, side of bacon, and coffee."

"Nothin' for me, thanks Doris."

"Sure boys, I'll have that right out for ya."

A small pause, before, "I'm telling you Sam, this job is small fry. We should be spending our time huntin' down Bela."

Right as he was about to reply, Sam's attention was caught by old-man Gabriel taking the note out of his pocket and reading it.

"Hey, Sam, you sure you're feelin' okay?"

"Y-yeah, I'm fine. Uh, figured we should check it out, sometimes places like these actually are legit."

Gabriel stood up in a hurry, stuffing the note back into his pocket. He cast a quick glance at Sam, looking slightly alarmed, then walked briskly out of the diner.

"Hey man, you eat your breakfast, I'm gonna go take a quick walk, don't worry about me."

"Yeah, sure man." The response was weak, and Sam was already out of his chair chasing after that old man he had bumped into earlier. Strange.

Chapter Text

One minute, Sam was watching Dean die once again. The next, he was...in bed. And Heat of the Moment wasn't playing. And this bed was very comfortable. What the hell?

Sam opened his eyes, not to find the usual old radio next to him, nor to see Dean, saying his usual "Rise and shine, Sammy!" He was in what looked like an actual bedroom. The walls were made of brick and it had the vibe of... a basement. No windows, a chill in the air. It was strange. He was scared.

Looking around, Sam spotted a strange blade underneath his pillow. Definitely weird, but he wasn't about to go wandering around without protection. Knife in hand, he got up and looked around the room.

As he did so, he noticed that his body was... different. His hair was longer, it went past his chin. He felt slightly taller. He was more stiff, moved less freely. Whatever happened to him, he had to find Dean and find out where they were. First, was investigating the room he was in.

It wasn't bad. He thought he might actually enjoy living here, if all the crap he was dealing with right now was gone. The room seemed to fit him well. Nothing seemed dangerous in here, and there were no alternate entrances, so he moved on.

Knife grasped tighter, he opened the door slowly to reveal a hallway. One more doorway, then a larger area. Back against the wall, Sam crept forwards, prepared to swing if need be.

Reaching the other doorway, looking around once again to check for any threat, Sam slowly opened it, peering in.

"Aw what the hell man, I thought you knew how to knock!"

Sam let out a quick sigh, some of the tension leaving his frame. "Dean? Where the hell are we?"

Dean's head shot up from where it was resting against the pillow. He was holding a gun in his hand, pointed towards the floor, and his face was contorted in confusion, staring intently.

"What the hell? What's up with you, man? You know where we are."

"Dean, what the hell is going on? I woke up here, finally out of the time loop, but I don't know how I got here, and why the hell do you look 45?!"

All the while, Dean had been staring at him. "Well first off, ow. Second off, what year do you think it is?"

"Wh- It's 2008. Right?"

A sigh, then, "Okay, that'll explain it. It seems to me, Sammy, that you have traveled about, uh, what would it be, 11 years into the future? I'm 40, and you're meant to be 36. This is where we live now, the bunker. I'm not totally gonna believe you until I have some proof that it's not something else, so let's go down somewhere safe and talk, 'kay?"

"...Yeah, sure."

"Okay, then let's go."

---

They walked into the kitchen of the bunker as Sam looked around warily.

"What even is this place?"

"Long story short, a secret society of hunters from the 40s. This place is ultra-safe, and is warded from demons, spirits, and really whatever you can think of. That's part of why I'm believing you so easily. If you were something sinister, bets are that you wouldn't be able to get in here. When exactly are you from? What case?"

"Well, I think I just got out of maybe my 120th Tuesday? Do you remember anything about the Mystery Spot?"

"Oh, shit, yeah. That was Gabr- er, I mean, the- the- um. Do you know who it was? I don't know how this is gonna be resolved, so maybe I shouldn't mess up time by telling you. Disregarding what I've already told you about the bunker."

"No, I have no idea. I've taken the Mystery Spot down to studs, and there's nothing there. It's something else, isn't it? You said 'who' and not 'what.'"

"Yeah, well. Anyways, do you have any idea what could send you here? It's honestly probably not something from your time, we have a lot more crazy shit.

"I'll get started on breakfast. Do you have something to prove that you're actually Sam or should I go first?"

"You can go first, I'll think of something."

"Alright. Well, let's see. I know that the first time you saw the trickster, you thought he was cute and that you always got gay butterflies in your stomach seeing him."

"Wh- well that could be a lucky guess, give me something more."

"Alright, just don't say you didn't ask for it. I also know that when you were a kid, once I walked in on you jerkin' it while saying your best friend at the time's name. It was all 'oh George keep doing that oh George!'" The last phrase was said in a comically higher voice.

"OOOOKAY you should definitely stop now. I DO NOT sound like that, and yes, now I believe you. Jesus.

"Okay, I've got one. I once caught you sneaking out in the middle of the night and followed you-"

"You followed me when I snuck out?"

"Not all the time, but this time I did. It was on that one hunt with dad when we were taking down the spirit of the 'best friend' of a man who was murdered. You were probably 19? Anyways, I snuck out behind you and followed you to a gay bar. I stayed across the street just to make sure that you made it back alright, and you came out with a dude, went into an alley, and came out 10 minutes later with your hair the messiest I have ever seen it."

"...Okay, wow. Guess our deepest secrets are just gay shit. I believe you."

The pancakes were done now. Sam stood to make his plate. Butter, melted frozen berries, and whipped cream.

"So, what the hell am I supposed to do now? Just hang out in the future until you figure out a way to send me back?"

"Yeah, I guess. We should be able to switch things back somehow. It seems like Sam will be safe, especially because he already knows what's going to happen. There are spells we could look through in the library here, or we could talk to some of our witch and angel friends."

"You have- yeah okay. Witches and angels, sounds good, exactly the people I want to trust."

"Oh shut up sass monster, if you trust me, you can trust them. Maybe not all the way, but they can be useful."

"Yeah, alright. We'll get it figured out.

"These pancakes are delicious, you actually learned how to cook?"

Chapter Text

Sam caught Gabriel's eye just as he was rounding the corner into the alleyway next to the hotel. He jogged to catch up, and as soon as he stepped foot into the alleyway, he was shoved roughly against the wall by Gabriel in his usual form.

With a slightly manic voice, clearly meant to be an immitation of his usual smooth sarcasm, Gabe said, "Heya Sammy! Wanna tell me what that note was about?"

Slightly flustered from the whole up-against-the-wall thing, Sam said, "Hey, Gabe, man, chill out for a sec. I'll explain everything to you, I need your help."

"Better get to talking then, Bucko."

"Okay, yeah. Totally. Uhm, I'm uh... I'm from the future, I don't know how I got here, I need to get back, and I need to not mess up all of time, I guess."

"You're from the future?" The persona slipped for just a moment. The confusion and tint of fear in his eyes made Sam feel a bit bad.

"The fuck you mean you're from the future? What do you know?"

"Well then, you're obviously not the one that took me here. Well to start off, I know that you're an archangel, I have met and fought just about everybody in your immediate family, I have started and stopped the end of the world multiple times, and things *finally* settled down and all of the sudden I wake up to Heat of the Moment again. What Tuesday is it right now?"

Gabriel was silent for a moment, simply staring into Sam's eyes. It was just then that Sam realized just how close they were. Gabriel was gripping the front of Sam's shirt loosely. Despite his much smaller stature, he imposed on Sam from all sides, trapping him against the wall. He let his eyes wander down to Gabriel's lips for just a moment.

"122nd." Was what finally came out of his mouth. "Can you prove it?"

"Prove what?"

"That you're really from the future, that you know my family, that you're not just insane?" The manic tone was back. He was also getting closer.

"My mind is wide open to you, Gabriel. Go ahead and explore, just don't judge or be too surprised by what you find."

Gabriel brought his hand up to the side of Sam's cheek (a very romantic gesture, which didn't help with the whole being-flustered-thing) and his grip went looser, his eyes dulled, and his body relaxed significantly, clearly now lost in Sam's mind. Sam gripped his torso to ensure that they would both be stable when he came back, which proved useful when Gabriel stiffened, collapsed, and immediately shouted:

"WHAT THE FUCK DUDE HOLY SHIT! HOW THE HELL ARE YOU... BREATHING? OR STANDING? OR... WHAT THE FUCK?!"

"Uh, yeah. Lots of stuff going on up there. Lots to sort through." He allowed him a moment of recovery before continuing: "...Anyways, do you have any idea who or what could have sent me here? I know you're estranged from your family and all that, but have you heard anything over angel radio?"

Gabe took a moment longer, now leaning lightly against Sam's chest, half supported by the arms around him. "Uh, no. Haven't heard anything about any time traveling meese. Would any of the archangels from your time have had any reason to send you?"

The nickname tugged at his heartstrings for a moment before he replied, "Ha, yeah, no. Definitely not. Fuck. How much grace do you currently have? Do you think you could fix this? Or maybe just send a note into the future?"

He regained his composure a bit more and took a breath before replying, "Well, dang, Sammy. I'm afraid that I only have enough for maybe a couple of notes right now. I've been very busy recently, even before putting you in this loop. Whaddya wanna say? And when and where should I send it?"

"I don't have it prepared right now, I have some things that I want to include. I'll write it up in the motel room. In the meantime, can I trust you to not kill Dean more? I say we're already dealing with enough."

"Totally, buckaroo. Speaking of, have you told Dean anything? He deserves to know, what, with the fact that you don't know how long you're gonna be stuck here."

"God, I dunno if he would ever believe me. I mean, he doesn't even know that Angels exist yet."

"Sure, but you're pretty good at convincing him. I bet that what, 10 years, has also helped with that."

"Thanks for your flattery. I suppose you're right, I'll tell him. I'll, uh, go grab him from the diner. Meet me outside my motel room in like, 10 minutes. I'll give you the note and where to take it, then I'll explain everything to Dean."

Now almost entirely recovered, Gabe said, "Souuunds good. Seeya then, Sammy." He left with a wink. Taking a breath, he walked back around the corner and into the diner.

---

As Sam was walking towards the front door of the diner, the door opened. 

"Woah, Sammy. You go out here to fuck the old man? You look real ruffled."

Well, that brought a blush to his cheeks. "No, Dean. I didn't come out here to fuck the old man. Listen, I have something I need to talk with you about. We're going back to the motel room. Let's go." Sam started walking without checking that Dean was following.

"Woah, Sammy, I get all tingly when you order me around like that. You gonna come out? Cuz I'll tell you what, man, I've known since you were like, 13."

"Wh- no Dean, I'm not about to come out to you. I wouldn't take you back to the motel room to do that. This is serious."

"Alright man, but just saying, I do think coming out is serious. I'll always support you in whatever endeavors you pursue."

"Yeah, Dean. I know, you too. But no, I'm not coming out to you." He pushed the door open. "This is something more...magic-y."

"What, you want to become a magician? Cuz I'd say that's just about the same as coming out."

"No, Dean! If you want me to admit I like men that much, fine! I'm pansexual, but that's not what this is about! I call watermelon. No interrupting, no questions, no getting mad or judging until I'm done. First, I have to write a quick note, then I'll talk."

"Alright man, just saying, you did end up coming out." Sam's stare could smite demons. And it did.

Sam sat down and wrote.

Dean (and possibly Sam from 2008),

I was sent back to the time loop that Gabriel trapped me in all those years ago. You may have figured that out. I'm safe, remember that. I talked to Gabriel, and he's the one delivering this note. I'll do my best to get back, but it might be better for you to do it, considering our difference in available resources.

See you soon (hopefully)
Sam Winchester

He stood up and walked out the front door. Gabriel was standing there and he straightened up when he heard Sam.

"When and where, gorgeous?"

"Well, gorgeous, if you could slip it in the mailbox for the Men of Letters bunker just outside of Lebanon, Kansas, on this date 11 years in the future, that would be great. Thank you, Gabe. Seriously. I should go explain to Dean. I'll see you soon." Sam grabbed Gabriel's jaw and gave him a peck on the lips, a smile, and disappeared into the motel room.

Still smiling slightly, Sam sat down. "Okay. Listen, Dean. This is going to sound insane, but... I'm from the future. I went to sleep on January 19th, 2019 and woke up January 19th, 2008. Ah! Don't you dare interrupt me, I'm not finished. I'm still Sam, I can prove it, but... I need to get back. Hopefully I won't fuck all of time up.

"I'm not sure why I was teleported here, or by who, or by what, but on this date, I was stuck in a time loop. I would wake up to Heat of the Moment playing on the radio, and then later that day, you would die. It went on for months, man. I don't know why I'm back here, but there's some other things you should know."

At this point, Dean was wringing his hands and leaning forward, staring intently at Sam, waiting for him to finish.

"Well, there's no real way to soften the blow... Angels are real. So are heaven and hell, so is god. The reason that I'm not freaking out about being stuck here right now is that the time loop that I mentioned earlier, it was made by the trickster, AKA the archangel Gabriel. I've already talked with him and he's sending a message to my time's Dean, and possibly your Sam. I'm finished, you can talk now."

"Wh- so what? You met god a-and the archangels, settled down, and then were sent back to your own personal Groundhog Day 11 years in the past? What the hell, man? I know you called watermelon, but I'm having a hard time believing this. How do I know you aren't just insane?"

At that point, Gabriel popped into the motel room and promptly landed in Sam's lap.

"Hhheeeeeyyyy Sammy. That took... quite a bit out of me, so I think I might just-" Aaaaand he was gone, passed out, head landing on Sam's shoulder.

"... What the fuck, Sam."

Chapter Text

"GOD this is so friggin' annoying. I haven't had to do research without my Sam in years. I mean, no offense man, but you really don't have the experience or knowledge to help a whole lot."

They were in the library with at least 20 different books scattered around them, all open to pages about time travel.

"Yeah, I get it, Dean. What about those angels and witches that you said could help?"

"Aw, nobody's gonna want to help us out. If Gabriel were still around, he might be friendly enough, but I can't think of anyone else-"

"Sammy! Ready to- Wait what. Dean? Why were you talking about me? And who is this? He’s obviously not Sam."

It was silent for a moment before, "Wh- Gabriel, you're alive!? I thought you died in apocalypse world? God, y’know what, I’m not even surprised anymore. Why doesn’t everybody just come back to life, how about that. And why the hell did you come when I said your name, especially if you're in hiding again? It wasn't like I was trying to pray to you or anything. Besides, the bunker is warded against angels."

"Ah, well. Hate to break it to you, kiddo, but I've been hangin' with your dear brother quite a bit recently. He messed with the warding to allow me in. I heard my name, thought it was Sam, and I come when he calls, if y’know what I mean." The wink doesn't escape Dean

"Aw, c'mon man, gross. I don't need to know that."

Sam was looking between the two with confusion (and also definitely pink cheeks.) "Uh. Who is this, Dean?"

Dean let out a sigh, preparing himself, before saying, "This... is Gabriel. The archangel Gabriel. Apparently he's been dating you for a while now."

"Oh hold on, wait a minute. You are Sam, your soul just isn't quite as developed as it’s supposed to be. When are you from?"

"Tuesday. Uh, well, I mean, 2008, but for the last couple of months, Tuesday."

"Oh, that's... dang. Real sorry about that. That really was a dick move of mine."

"Wh- you don't mean... You're the one responsible for that? You didn't do this, did you? The time switching?"

"No, 'fraid not, Samalam. At least, I'm pretty sure I didn't. If you're from Tuesday, I should be hanging around where you came from. I don't have enough power on my own to fix everything, but I can get in contact with myself and we could probably work together. I-"

Just then, a note slid through the door with a loud "DING." In an instant, Gabriel had it in his hands. He read it aloud to everyone.

"Hey Dean and maybe Sam, I'm in the past, during the Mystery Spot time loop, blah blah blah, Gabriel's delivering this note, I'm safe, work on it, blah blah blah. Okay, well, I forgot, but I was pretty much depleted of my grace back then for reasons other than just the time loop. This note is probably just about the most that I could do. I'll tell ya what. You look through these books," he pulled out 5 books from the stack, "I'll go have a conversation with those currently in 2008, and we'll work something out. Get to reading! Seeya soon!"

Poof. He was gone.

It was silent for a minute before, "Oh what the hell, my brother is fucking an archangel. He'd better be using protection- wait, YOU'D better use protection, I don't need my brother dying of angel-AIDS."

The surprise was still clearly evident on Sam's face. He said, "That's sweet, Dean. As much as I would also like to learn more, we should get to reading, we need to fix this."

---

They were still studying when Sam felt an itch under his skin. He knew that the situation was finally catching up to him.

God, It was all too much. First, Dean sold his soul, then they were chasing after Bela and the Colt, then he was stuck in that godawful time loop, and now he's here.

It was all too much. He missed his Dean, and as much as he hated it, he missed the time loop. There, he knew what was going to happen, he knew how the world worked. He knew what to expect. He didn't have to worry about anything except Dean dying, and he had almost stopped caring about even that.

It was all too much. He was in the future, Angels were real, he was basically alone. He didn't know these people. He didn't /really/ know this Dean.

"Sammy."

It was all too much. He wanted to go home. He wanted his Dean.

It was all too much. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think-

"SAMMY!"

Sam's head shot up. Dean was in front of him, holding on to both of his shoulders. He was curled in a ball, sitting on the cold concrete floor of the bunker, shaking. His arms were pressed against his stomach, his knees held tightly in front of him.

His chest was heaving. His cheeks were wet. It took all of his effort to uncurl his arms. He immediately fell into Dean. He was on his lap, face hidden in his neck, sobbing like he was a kid again. He still felt like there was a tight band around his chest, stopping him from taking a full breath.

Dean held him tight immediately. "What's wrong kid, tell me."

"I- there was- it- it's all- it's all too much-" His attempt at talking was riddled with interruptions. His throat hurt from the force of the sobs being ripped out of him.

"Bela and- and the Colt. You- you sold your damn- soul, Dean. You're going to hell and I can't- can't stop it! Then you kept dying over and over and- and I couldn't stop that either!" He pulled himself further into Dean's neck, if it was possible. The flannel that he was wearing was a disgusting mess of snot and tears.

"I know it's hard, Sammy. You're going through a lot, but trust me, I've got you. It'll work out, it always works out. We have a plan, and I won't rest until it's enacted and you're back where you're supposed to be. Take it from me, kid. And guess what, I'm still here, so you know that it'll work out. You'll find a solution, you'll get the Colt, and I'll get you home. Deep breaths."

Sam nodded into Dean's neck. It still felt like everything sucked, but- his voice was so soothing and confident. He felt safe, like he always did in his brother's arms. A couple more sobs forced their way out of his sore throat before his breathing gradually got more regular. Deep, stuttered breaths in, slow, shaky breaths out. In, and out. In, and out.

In, and out.

One step at a time. 

---

After recovering from that, they got back up in their chairs and resumed their research. This time, Dean was sitting next to him, and their legs pressed against each other. It was grounding.

"Hey, Dean. Come and look at this. It's in this book about using angel magic for spells. There's a chapter on time travel. Some of these look like they might work."

"Yeah? Lemme see."

Sam handed the book over to Dean and then took a moment to look around. Man, this was weird. He was stuck in the future with his brother and an archangel that he had been praying to since he was 5 just stopped by to help them.

"Good job, Sammy! Some of these look promising. I think #3 is our best bet. It'll switch you and... you, and correct things like memory just enough that it won't mess up the timeline significantly.

"I think that we have most of these ingredients. The bunker has always been pretty stocked up. I have to look, but I think that the only things we need are a hangman's rope and grace from...two different angels. Fuck. That might be an issue."

"Hold up, didn't you say that there were angels, but that they just didn't want to help us? I mean, donating a little bit of angel dust doesn't seem like that much to give, why is it such an issue?"

"Because, Sam. There aren't actually very many angels left after all the shit that happens to us. Plus, all but a few of them would be willing to donate ANY grace at all because they're all selfish, clueless dicks. And our other angel friend, Castiel, he-"

Dean briefly looked the other way and roughly forced out, "He's gone."

He cleared his throat, then continued. "We've been looking for ways to get him back, but haven't found any. It seems like he might finally be gone for good. I can't think of anybody else other than Gabriel that might be willing to help us out."

Sam had barely seen Dean ever get this emotional. He couldn't tell if it was because this Dean was just less emotionally repressed, or if it really affected him that much.

"I'm sure you'll get him back. I've only seen you speak about him once, and I can already tell that you would do anything for him. I mean, maybe we could have Gabriel help us with that."

Dean took a deep breath and replied, "Yeah, thanks Sam. I try. For him... Anyways, hmph, I'll look through the news and see if anybody has hung themselves in the surrounding 500 miles. Shouldn't be too hard to find. In the meantime, you can gather all the ingredients that we have in the bunker. Put 'em in here, on one of the tables. Let's go!"

Chapter Text

It was dark. Sam had explained only what was necessary to Dean to get him to shut up before hauling himself and the now-passed-out Gabriel onto his bed.

Now, everyone was asleep. He was tired, of course, but he couldn't stop thinking.

Everything was so quiet, but at the same time, so loud. And he couldn't, for the life of him, stop thinking.

Past Gabriel was snoring his ass off, the AC was buzzing next to his head, and Dean shifted in his bed every few minutes.

He could feel himself falling apart. It was catching up with him now. He missed his Dean. He missed Cas (which was a whole other problem), and he missed Gabriel. He should be grateful. He had Dean and Gabriel (technically), he knew where he was and that he was safe, but it still wouldn't go away.

He was used to nights like this, when he couldn't sleep no matter how hard he tried. When every second longer that he laid on his side made him ache more and more. When the motel room started to feel stuffy and stiffening. He had learned long ago how to get up and out without making too much noise. Some cold, fresh air would do him some good, maybe it would even shock the panic out of his system for a while longer.

So he peeled himself away from Gabriel and went outside. The parking lot was empty except for a couple of old cars scattered around. He could see everything clearly due to the moon and street lights off on the road.

He sat down on the wheel stop directly in front of their door, leaning against one of the pillars holding the second floor walkway up. He should've grabbed a jacket, even if he was craving the cold. He didn't care enough to actually remedy that.

The panic that he was hoping to flush out of his system seemed to only be growing. The anxiety in his stomach sat heavy and deep, while his breathing was anything but. In- in, in in in---out-in-out... In, hold hold hold hold hold--- and out. In!-in, hold- out- in-out. In, then out, in then out, in out, in out in out in out in-

He had lost track of his breathing, god, he couldn't even do that right. He was trapped in fucking 2008 with an exhausted angel and a dumb brother who's soul was on the line. He didn't want to be back here. He already went through all of this once, and that was plenty. Dean going to hell, demons, angels, apocalypses, plagues, leviathans, Metatron, the cage- oh god the cage.

He knew what was coming for them and he couldn't stop it. He couldn't-

A hand. On his back. What the fuck.

He jumped up, standing to face the threat quickly. Except... it wasn't a threat. It was Gabriel. It was his Gabriel.

"Heya Sammy." His voice was sincere as never, and there was a smile on his face. "It's me, I promise. I found you."

He really should have been more careful, but he was too panicked and upset to care.

"Gabe." His voice shook violently, only partially because of his panic-attack-in-progress. His eyes welled with tears and he collapsed forwards into Gabriel's open arms.

He had changed a lot over his life, but he was still him. He was still the little boy that would bury his head in someone's shoulder when things got too much. He was still the little boy that tried to hold it together as best he could because his family needed him. He was still holding on to one of his favorite people with a death grip, trying to hold himself together at the same time.

"It's okay, sugar, you can cry. You need it. I'm right here. We're safe, I'll keep you safe."

And so, a quiet sob forced its way out of Sam's throat. And another. Gabriel conjured some cushions on the floor beneath them and pulled Sam down with him.

Gabriel was leaning against the outside wall of the motel, while Sam straddled his lap, still hidden in his shoulder. Quiet sobs kept heaving through his body.

"That's right, honey. You're safe, I've got you. We have a plan, I'll get you home."

They sat like that for what felt like forever, until slowly, Sam started to calm down. Once Gabriel was sure that he was done crying, he magicked away the mess of tears on his shoulder.

Now well and truly exhausted, Sam fell asleep. He was comfortable in his angel's arms, entirely safe, and he knew that he would be okay.