Archive of Our Own ^beta

Coming back from the dead had been a real pain in the ass for Gabriel, so far.

When Cas had described their dad brining him back, it had been all oh I was stronger than ever and everything was sunshine and rainbows for me. Slight paraphrasing, but Gabriel had yet to experience anything like that. Instead he’d come back, barley even yielding the power of some weak low–level angel, and worst of all, he could actually get tired. Sure, he was more sturdy than the humans he found himself in the company of, but he could no longer snap his fingers and whatever monster they were faced with would disappear from the face of the earth. Which landed them in situations as such.

“Shit, Sam,” Gabriel says, kneeling by his side. Sam has pushed himself up to his elbows, looking down at the hole in his tigh like it had offended him. These Winchesters were made by very contradictory stuff. They’d survived more than any other human basically ever, but were still just that, human. Easy to break, quick to bleed out. So Gabe, being the kind and considerate archangel he was, reached out to heal Sam, because he could at least do that. He’d expected at least a thank you, maybe even get the tough guy to crack a smile, but before he could even reach him Sam had jerked his head back.

For a moment, Gabriel’s hand simply hung in the air between them, unsure what to do next as Sam eyes him warily. 

“Um,” Gabe said, intelligently, before letting his hand drop in between them. He noted the way Sam relaxed just slightly, shoulders dropping a little bit from his ears, and Gabriel leaned back, giving him his space.  “I guess that’s a no?” 

Before Sam could give any sort of answer or explanation, a shout had Gabriel turning around, and he saw Dean running towards them. Honestly, Gabriel had tuned out most of the explanation for what they were actually doing at this hunt slash mission, but as Dean was waving something in his right hand, shouting about how they needed to leave, Gabriel took that as his queue to get them the hell out of there. With the snap of his fingers, they were back in the bunker (he still had his wings, at least!). Dean took one look at his brother, and the stab wound in his leg, muttered something before fetching a first aid kit and getting to work. They bickered back and forth a bit, Sam insisting he was fine and could do it himself, Dean insisting the opposite. As he sensed he was no longer needed Gabriel got up, but before leaving, Sam met his eyes for a moment. There was something akin to gratitude there, and a silent plea to let it slide. 

And Gabriel did let it slide. For now.

The next time they were in a similar position (because Dad forgive the Winchesters ever caught a break), Gabriel remembered this scene. It was a lot less dramatic, Sam was only spouting scrapes and bruises, but still. He didn’t have to put up with those. 

“Sooo,” Gabriel said, earning Sam’s attention. “Do you want help with those?” 

For a moment, Sam furrowed his brow, seemingly not sure what Gabriel was referring to. When he looked down at the blood he was cleaning, he caught on. “Oh. Um, I’m good, but–– Thanks.” Sam was very clearly uncomfortable with this whole conversation, and Gabriel threw his hands up.

“It’s whatever, dude, it was just an offer. If you wanna do your suffer in silence martyr shtick, you’re very welcome to do so.”
Sam scoffed, but Gabriel was relived to see a small smile on his face. It was a rare opportunity to be able to get Sam to smile, much less laugh, at a joke so Gabriel took every win he could at this point. He told himself it was because he was bored, in recovery and hiding, but he didn’t get this kind of kick from making anyone else laugh.

“It’s really not about you,” Sam said, breaking their small silence. “I just––” He pulled a face, and Gabriel couldn’t help but smile at the annoyance. 

“You don’t need to reassure me, kiddo. I don’t need an explanation.” The fact that Gabriel really, really wanted an explanation was a completely irrelevant. For the life of him, he could not understand why anyone would wrap themselves in bandages and swallow pills when they could just be fixed in a moments notice. But it wasn’t up to Gabriel to decide.

Sam eyed him in a nearly suspicious way, as if trying to find some hidden meaning in his words. And hey, in all fairness, Gabriel had lied to the guy, and tricked him, many, many times. But he wasn’t doing it now!
The night went on, with Sam sitting by his computer doing some kind of research, and Gabriel sitting at his computer, agitating people in online forums. He was aware of the glances the human kept sending him every once in a while, and every third or so stare he’d look up and send a wink his way, causing Sam to quickly look away, scowling. This in turn caused Gabiel to grin. 

When Sam finally decided he deserved some rest, he efficiently and methodically packed away his things, putting the books he’d been using in a neat pile, his computer charging for the night. Gabriel waved him goodnight, but before he could leave, Sam stopped in the door, taking a deep breath.
“It’s the grace.”
Gabriel blinked at him, not comprehending where this turn of conversation had come from, before Sam continued. “The healing. I don’t––” It was clearly hard for Sam to get the words out and Gabriel sat stoic, watching his every move. “I don’t particularly love the feeling of grace. So I don’t like being healed.” Sam was still turned away, and Gabriel had a feeling thats the only reason he was able to have this conversation in the first place.

“Alright,” he said, after a few moments of silence. “I won’t do it then. Goodnight, Sam.”

Sam relaxed, clearly thankful for the way out. “Night, Gabriel.”

This all worked fine and dandy while the two of them were in a sort of forced proximity almost friendship. It got a little bit more complicated as Gabriel realized that hey, he did kinda actually really enjoy the guy’s company, and it was frustrating to not be able to help a friend. But Gabriel had actually, contrary to popular belief, had friends before and with a feeling of slight dread, he realized this did not feel like those times. Because why would his life ever be simple? And then, of course, it got even more complicated when Sam had kissed him.

Had Gabriel been with humans before in his life? Of course, he had lived a very long life! Had he ever been with humans who A. knew of his actual identity, and B. was involved with his family, and all the drama that came with that? No, he had not. So maybe it was a bad idea. Maybe Sam should have realized he’d had enough of angels, thank you very much, or Gabriel should have thought hey, dating the guy who had been destined to be his brother’s Vessel wasn’t the best idea. But then again, it’s not like either of them were known for their smart decisions.

And if Gabriel had though it was frustrating not to be able to help his friend, it was even worse when it was his kind–of–boyfriend, because none of the humans he’d ever entertained got into as much trouble as Sam Winchester did. 

Even when there wasn’t the direct threat of the world ending (which was already a miniscule amount of their time), Sam wasn’t one to sit back and rest. Because then there was a haunting, or a werewolf, or a demon, or any little threat that could turn into something that could nearly kill his fragile human in the blink of an eye. 

Of course, Sam wasn’t alone. He had Dean, and most of the time the two of them could handle any minor threat. They had Cas. And these days, though depowered and frustrated, they had Gabriel. It was taking his grace a long time to recover, and while the time could really be considered the blink of an eye for Gabriel, it felt like ages. With Sam making sure he actually stayed down for his so called recovery period (something Gabriel has never needed in the past, mind you) he was getting a bit bored staring at the walls of the bunker. But hey, if he couldn’t heal Sam, he sure as hell didn’t wanna heal Dean. Cas could deal with that one. 

So when the gang returns to the bunker after a hunt, Dean complaining loudly, Sam murmuring agreements and Cas looking quizzically between the two brothers, Gabriel eyed the dried blood on Sam with discontent. The no healing rule applied to Cas as well, and while Gabriel would have been offended if it was just him, he did wish Sam could accept some help. The two of them shared a look, and Sam gave him a smile as if saying, I’m alright, don’t worry. It didn’t do much to quell Gabriel’s anxieties. When Dean announced he was hitting the showers Cas was already nowhere to be found, and Sam had grabbed a first aid kit and sat down by the table with Gabriel. Sam pulled up his sleeve, wincing a bit as it separated from the bloodied cut on his arm. It wasn’t deep, needed no stitches, but was probably better wrapped up then left alone. As Sam disinfected the wound, Gabriel reached for the bandages. Sam paused, looking at him with furrowed brows.

“What?” 

Sam nodded at the bandages. “You know how to handle those?”
Gabriel scoffed. “Kid, you don’t think in my many, many centuries on this world I’ve ever had to bandage someone up? Please.”
“Well,” Sam said, as he offered his now clean arm to Gabriel. “You could have just healed them.”
No poking around in Sam’s thoughts was needed to understand the underlying message. Gabriel could have healed him, yet he didn’t, and Sam was wondering why he was putting in the effort. Internally, Gabriel sighed.

“Well,” Gabriel said, intentionally copying Sam, “It’s good to have a variety of skills. Plus, you know very well I went undercover as a human loads of times. Couldn’t exactly heal anyone then.” 

As he started wrapping Sam’s arm, the two of them had ended up very close to each other, and even though they were sitting in a big room, it felt like his world had gotten a lot smaller. Hazel eyes were trained on him, looking eons older than he was supposed to be.

“You never asked me why I didn’t want to be healed.”
“I didn’t need to. You told me.”

“Not–– Not really, though.” Sam had broken eye contact, as he so often did when things got a bit too real for his comfort.

And it was true. Gabriel hadn’t asked, and he told himself it was because he wanted to allow Sam the space to tell when he wanted to, but he knew when he was tricking himself. In reality, he could very well imagine what would make Sam so reluctant to his grace. From Gadreel to the Cage, Gabriel could imagine all too well. And part of him, that was still holding on to the family they had been millenia ago, didn’t want to think of what his brothers had done. 

So Gabriel did what he did best, and hid. “Do you want to tell me?”

They sat still and silent, until Sam sighed and looked away. Gabriel took it as his sign to finish wrapping Sam’s wound. When he was satisfied, he didn’t fully let go of the human, but instead let his hand find Sam’s. Loosely, not gripping. Sam curled his fingers around Gabriel’s hand, his eyes still distant. Then he shrugged, but the clench in his jaw, the way his shoulders were hunched, gave away the fact that he was anything but relaxed.

“Never really–– talked about it before, and––” Sam sighed, leaning back in feigned relaxation. 

“Well sunshine, you were the one to bring it up. Maybe there’s a reason for that?” Gabriel said, raising an eyebrow. Sam’s lips quirked, but it was a lifeless movement. 

“Can’t see what good it would do.”

Gabriel had been around long enough to understand the enigmas that humans can be, their strange and contrasting communications. He understood that Sam wanted, needed, to talk about this, but that he didn’t know how. And Gabriel should have been the older, wiser, being here and figure it out for the, but he wasn’t very good at this either. 

“Well,” Gabriel said, throwing himself out there even though the voice in his head warned him to run, “It could help me understand.”
Sam looked up at him again, searching his face for something. And Gabriel understood. It wasn’t like him to be patient, or particularly nice, but he was tired. Being immortal and then dying anyways kinda changes your perspective on things, and maybe Gabriel was a bit softer around the edges, though he would deny that if anyone else claimed it. And he doesn’t want to mess this up. He doesn’t want to be the next person in line that hurt Sam. 

Sam was hesitant. “I just–– don’t know where to start. How to start.”

“You don’t need to tell me anything today, you can take the time you need. Anyways, it’s not like I’m doing much more than sitting on my ass here, I’m in no rush!” 

Gabriel felt a bit bad for dismantling the tension with a joke, for running once again, but Sam seemed to appreciate it. He nodded, and squeezed Gabriel’s hand. 

“So, I definitely need to clean up,” Sam said, clearly changing the topic, “But uh, there was this documentary Cas wanted to watch, if you wanna join us.”

Gabe smiled, and returned the squeeze. “Well, if he can handle being the third wheel better than your brother, sure!”

Gabriel had expected this process to go on forever. He knew the human, knew that Sam would gladly encourage everyone around him to talk about their feelings, while ignoring his own. But the universe seemed to have other plans. 

One night Gabriel was woken (because while he didn’t need to sleep, he enjoyed it!) by the sound of coughing. With the snap of his fingers light flooded the room, and he saw Sam sat hunched over on the edge of the bed, his shoulders shaking from the coughs. 

He didn’t say anything, just sat up and put a gentle hand on Sam’s shoulders, trailing his fingers up and down. 

“Water?” Gabriel asked, and when Sam got out a weak yes in between coughs, he handed him a freshly appeared glass of water. Slowly, Sam drank the water as Gabriel pushed a strand of hair behind his ear. 

“Thank you,” Sam said, putting the glass down on the bedside table. 

“No worries, sweetheart. Did you need anything else?”

Sam hummed. “Some tylenol would be nice.”
Snapping some tylenol into existence, he placed his other hand on Sam’s forehead. “Yeesh. You’re burning up.” 

Downing the pills, Sam sunk deeper down in his pillow, and Gabriel snapped the lights off again. “Hopefully I’ll just sleep it off,” Sam murmured.

Sam did not sleep it off.

When Gabriel woke the next morning, he was surprised to find Sam still asleep. Usually he’d be up before anyone in the bunker, dragging Gabriel up from the bed. But he was still fast asleep, and Gabriel didn’t need touch him to see he had a fever. Feeling confident Sam would stay asleep, Gabriel got up and braved the day. Quickly he realized this meant facing his least favorite Winchester brother, without his favorite to act as a buffer. 

“Where’s Sam?” Dean asked, looking as if Gabriel had spat in his food. Gabriel hadn’t, but he’d considered it a few times.

“Chill out, I haven’t done anything to him. He’s sick.” 

Dean frowned. “Sam’s sick?”
“Is your hearing shot? He woke up coughing, and he has a fever.” 

“He doesn’t usually get sick,” Dean said, shifting in a way that told Gabriel he was worried but didn’t want to acknowledge it. 

“Relax, it’s just the flu. I can tell it’s nothing worse.”

Unwillingly, Dean did seem to relax at Gabriel’s words. 

Having had enough of talking with the older Winchester, Gabriel got to work. He prepared tea and a simpler breakfast, stocking up on liquids and vitamin c. He wouldn’t claim to be an expert on how to treat the flu, he usually worked with more creative diseases, but hey, nothing wrong with the basics!

Back in their room, Gabriel put down the tray on the bedside table, sitting down next to Sam’s still unconscious form. There was an itch in his fingers, to reach out and press them against Sam’s forehead and take this all away. With a sigh, he suppressed it. He wouldn’t be another person ignoring Sam’s wishes and wants. Instead he reached out without any magic, simply to gently shake him awake.

“Gabe?” Sam murmured as he woke up, and Gabriel let his hand drift to cupping Sam’s face. It wasn’t as hot as he’d been during the night, but the fever wasn’t gone yet. 

“Yup, that’s me.” As he said this, Sam leaned into the touch, and Gabriel tried to ignore the way it made his heart skip several beats. “I brought you some breakfast, if you’re up for that.” 

Slowly Sam sat up, and started working his way through the breakfast. He seemed most appreciative of the tea, and the way it soothed his throat. When he tried to get up from the bed, Gabriel quickly placed a hand on his chest, keeping him down.

“Look, you’re free to leave and all, but you’re also on house arrest. Or well, bed arrest.”
Sam raised his eyebrows. “That sounds like a paradox.”

“You’re an a paradox,” Gabriel said, which he admitted wasn’t his finest work, but still kind of true! “All I’m saying is that we don’t wanna see you up working, or researching, or doing anything that someone who isn’t sick should be doing. The sooner you’re better, the happier everyone will be.” 

Sam rolled his eyes, but Gabriel was pleased to see him smiling. “Fine, I’ll be good.”

Gabriel winked. “I know you will,” which earned him a pillow in the face. Sam nearly seemed out of breath from that action alone. 

But he did stay put, but it was more likely he was too tired to get up, rather than out of respect for Gabriel's wishes. Dean, while pretending not to be worried, fretted over his brother, and Gabriel counted on Cas to keep the older Winchester healthy. He barley wanted to deal with a healthy Dean, and he imagined a sick one would be an even worse headache. But he seemed to be fine, and two days after Sam first got sick, he and Cas left for a hunt, leaving Sam and Gabriel alone in the bunker. Sam slept through most of it, when he wasn’t kept up by his coughing or Gabriel making sure he ate and hydrated somewhat enough. 

At one point, when Gabriel had replaced all of the beer to alcohol free options to mess with Dean, he suddenly noted the sharp increase in Sam’s heart rate from across the corridor. In a matter of moments he was outside their room, and right as he pushed open the door Sam bolted up in bed, breath heaving as he looked around.

Gabriel stopped in the doorway, watching as Sam took in his surroundings, including Gabriel, before finally relaxing and falling back down against the pillows. Gabriel sat down on the bed, placing his hand on Sam’s chest. Sam reached out and grabbed it, eyes closed as he breathed in through his nose, and out of his mouth. Gabriel always felt a bit lost in these moments, where it was clear Sam needed something, but he couldn’t figure our quite what to do. It was like reaching in the dark, because in no of the relationships he’d been in before had he been with anyone like Sam.

“I’m good,” Sam said after a few minutes had passed, and while Gabriel seriously doubted that, he did realize Sam was probably telling this to himself as much as to Gabriel. So he just nodded, allowing Sam to take another couple of deep breaths, collecting himself. 

Sam seemed to be all right with basking in the silence, but Gabriel felt restless. As if there were bugs crawling up his legs, urging him to take action, but he didn’t know what to do.

“Do you–– Would you like to chat about it?” He was trying to keep his words light, but they just came out stifled, awkward. Dammit, get yourself together. 

Sam’s lips quirked, in a joyless movement, as he sat up on the bed. “It’s just– Same old, same old. Nothing you need to listen to.” For someone who was so damn set on making everyone else bare their soul, Sam sure knew how to keep his locked up tight.

“Sure, I don’t need to, there’s basically nothing in the whole universe I need to do. This though, I wouldn’t mind–– I’d like to.”

Sam looked at him for a long moment, his bright eyes searching for something in Gabriel’s face. He wasn’t sure what Sam was looking for, and if he should be trying to show it or not, but he did his best to look as open and approachable as he felt, and way more relaxed than he actually was. Their conversations from the week before hung in the air between them, a constant reminder that they’d tried this before, Sam had tried this before, and they hadn’t gotten anywhere. Can’t see what good it’ll do, Sam had said, and Gabriel wondered if he might have been right. He wasn’t an idiot, and he was all too familiar with the kind of pain talking didn’t ease, the kind of pain his own family could inflict. And that was the crux. What right did Gabriel have to Sam’s thoughts, when it was his own family who had done this? When it was Gabriel who had served them the idea of opening the cage on a silver plate? 

Sam’s coughing woke him from his thoughts, and a moment later he was handing him a glass of water, which Sam gratefully accepted. As he drank, and coughed a bit more, and drank a bit more, Gabriel rubbed his back, the tension of the conversation (or, lack of conversation) momentarily dispelled. 

After the coughing fit passed, and the glass had been placed on the bedside table, Sam fell back on the bed, his legs still danging off the edge. Gabriel followed him, and they laid side by side, staring up at the empty, concrete roof above them. He frowned.

“Close your eyes.”
He felt Sam look at him. “What are you gonna do?”

“Just close them, would you?” 

For a few moments Sam did nothing, but then he looked up again, closing his eyes. Gabriel lifted his hand, sweeping it across the roof above them.
“Look.”

Sam gasped, taking in the stars above them. The boring, ugly, roof was gone, and instead, you could see the stars above them, not a cloud in the sky. Well, the stars as you should be able to see them.

Sam’s awed silence didn’t last long. “You didn’t knock out the electricity in all of Kansas so we’d be able to see without the light pollution, did you?”
Even though he scoffed, Gabriel felt a little bit rattled realizing that he would have done that, if that’s what Sam had wanted. “Nope, just enhanced the view a little bit.” 

It was Sam’s turn to scoff. “Yeah, a little bit.” 

On impulse Gabriel reached out, placing the back of his hand on Sam’s forehead. Contended, he hummed at the mild temperature. “You’re getting better.”

“Yeah, about time. I hate being sick.” 

 Looking at his own hand framed against the stars, Gabriel nodded. “Well, I’ve never been sick, so I can’t say I relate, but I’d bet it’s kinda like–– like being stuck at half power.” 

“You could say that. You get tired, or dizzy, by things that normally don’t make you either of those.” There was a pause, in which Sam took a breath, as if steeling himself. “I just–– Feel out of control. And I hate that.”

No one spoke. Gabriel had stilled, sensing they were on the precipice of something, and he didn’t want to pull them back, or push them over. That responsibility was handed back over to Sam. 

“That’s what my dream was about.” His voice was quiet, his eyes firmly fixed on the stars adobe them, flickering from one light to another. “It’s kinda hard to explain, but I was stuck. I think I was sitting down? As if I was chained to a chair. And I– I saw so much, happening all around me, and I couldn’t do anything. Couldn’t get up, no matter what I did, and it just wouldn’t stop. And I was panicking because I hate it. Not having any control.” 

Gabriel nodded, but didn’t say anything, either out of fear saying the wrong thing, or out of an absolute loss of words. But Sam took it as the invitation that it was, and kept talking. 

It was slow work. But word after word, Sam untangled the web in his mind. Explained how he felt being possessed, something Gabriel had never actually experienced. The way his body moved without him having a say in it, the way the world looked different when he was seeing it together with someone else. How he’d seen everything when it had been Lucifer, and how he wasn’t sure what even was real when it had been Gadreel. How everything was tinted with the bright light, the constant press of grace all around and inside him. Wether it was the burning cold of Lucifer or  the jagged edges of Gadreel.

It didn’t escape Gabriel how Sam didn’t talk specifics, just memories of feelings and sensations, but he let it slide. Neither of them could handle much more tonight.

When Sam at least went quiet, Gabriel filled the silence for him. Stories of his life, of people he’d messed with in the past. Sam kept watching the stars, Gabriel started watching him. Kept talking as Sam’s eyes closed, and his breathing slowly evened out.

Gabriel kept the stars visible until he was sure Sam was asleep again. 

Talking, predictably, didn’t fix everything. But Gabriel had to admit, it did make things a bit easier. There were things he understood better now, things he’d never considered before. And Sam seemed a bit more relaxed around him, now that one wall had been brought down. The aversion to being healed stayed, and Gabriel hadn’t asked him again. Instead, he helped wrap him up in bandages, or stood cringing to the side as Dean sewed up his brother. But Gabriel had taught himself to be fine with it, as much as he could. 

A sort of new normal settled over them. The world around them (and above and below) was as chaotic as always, but they had a semblance of routine. Hunting things, saving people, and all that jazz. Sooner or later Gabriel would get bored of it, but he did have to admit there were worse places to rest when recovering than Sam Winchester’s bed. And while this wasn’t the life he wanted to live for long, he really didn’t see himself getting bored of Sam anytime soon. 

Usually when he tagged along for hunts, it was because the threat was major, of because Dean was out of commission. This time, much to Gabriel’s glee, was the latter one. It started out as a series of strange disappearances, and graves dug up around time, so a good old fashioned Winchester investigation was needed. Which was perfect for Gabriel, who enjoyed the parts of hunts that included dressing up and playing a character. That was his whole shtick! No need for angelic powers when you could have fun doing good old fashioned theatre.

As it often was in their lives, the fun didn’t last very long. 

The disappearances turned out to be tied to some ghouls that had occupied a nice home in the suburbs after eating its inhabitants. As they went in, finding two victims still alive, they were immediately jumped. With a look thrown his way Sam told him to get them the hell out of here as Gabriel pinned one of the wall. Reluctantly he did so. Fully charged up, he could have zapped them away and healed them in one step, but now he had to actually let go of the (now unconscious) ghoul and focus. Ugh. With the tap of his fingers he healed the would be victims, who both regained consciousness, and started freaking out. Ugh. Maybe he wasn’t cut out for hunting after all. Before he could send them away, Sam, along with the second ghoul, crashed into him. While he wasn’t depowered enough to get knocked over, his concentration slipped. Then, as the ghoul waved his silver knife dangerously close to Sam’s face, Gabriel threw his hand out, sending the creature crashing into the wall. 

Instead of Sam’s eternal gratitude, he only got the guy yelling at him. “Gabe! Get them out!” He rolled his eyes, but turning around he noticed one of them had gotten up, clearly attempting to make a run for it, when Gabriel was trying to be nice and save their ass. Ugh. With a tap he sent the one who stayed down (probably because they were, well, locked down) to safety, before zapping himself to block the runner.

“Hi. Y’know, most people don’t thank me for saving their lives by running away, but hey, if that’s how you like to do it, I don’t judge.” Gabriel wasn’t sure how much of this the human caught, as they were screaming the whole time he was talking, perhaps at the prospect of seeing someone teleport for the first time. They’ll get over it, probably, he thought as he sent them away. 

Across the room, Sam had beheaded the unconscious ghoul, leaving one very pissed off conscious ghoul left, apparently having gotten over his hunger, and only going for the kill now. Gabriel snapped his fingers, and it dropped down, allowing Sam to behead him as well. Gabriel was just about to crack a joke about the poor cleaner who’d have to deal with this mess, but then Sam dropped as well, and adrenaline spiked in Gabriel’s chest.

“What’s wrong?” He asked as he dropped to his knees, his eyes scanning Sam. Because of this he saw the moment Sam’s hand found the wound on his hip, pressing down on the leaking blood. Luckily, there were no major organs there to hit, but the strength of the stab had done enough damage.

“Shit, Sam,” Gabriel said, trying to think clearly. It was probably for the best to patch him up before teleporting him away, to try and avoid any aggravations of the wound. Pulling bandages into existence, he reached for the wound.

“Wait,” Sam said, taking a few breaths through the pain. While Gabriel stilled, respecting his wishes, he was also keenly aware of the amount of blood his boyfriend had already lost. “Gabe–– Heal me, instead.”
Gabriel blinked. “Um,” he said, intelligently, “what?” 

Apparently, Sam didn’t appreciate that he was so slow on the uptake, if his eyeroll was anything to go by. “Heal me. Please?” 

“…this isn’t the bloodloss talking, right?” 

“No, Gabe. It isn’t even that much blood.” The average person would probably disagree, but hey, Winchesters. “I trust you, okay?” 

Gabriel’s hand still hovered over Sam’s wound, and he searched for something in his eyes that would tell him to stop.

“Are you sure?”

Sam held his gaze. “Yes.”

Slowly, to make sure Sam followed every movement, Gabriel lifted his hand. Sam closed his eyes as Gabriel placed it on his cheek, but Gabriel just pulled him closer, pressing his lips to Sam’s forehead as he let his grace rush through them. Softly, Sam gasped, relaxing into Gabriel’s hold. When he pulled back he looked down, inspecting the now healed skin of Sam’s hip, a smile tugging at his lips. Looking up, he once again searched Sam’s eyes for any sign of discomfort or regret, but he found nothing like that. Instead, he only saw things that would leave him weak in the knees if he was standing up.

“Let’s get out of here, shall we?” 

Sam pointedly looked at the many pools of blood around them, and the two beheaded bodies. “Maybe we should clean this up first?”

“Ugh, you and your principles.”

“I’m lucky that I’m cute, right?” 

Delighted at the joke, Gabriel laughed as he helped Sam to his feet, pulling him into an embrace. He looped his arms around Sam’s neck, pulling him down. It wasn’t the most comfortable position for either of them, but he didn’t care. Laughing, Sam wrapped his arms around Gabriel’s waist. With the snap of his fingers, the room around them was clean, the blood washed away from the both of them. Gabriel sighed.

“Are you tired?” The smile in his voice was evident. 

“No need to sound so smug about it,” Gabriel replied. “You’d be more tired if I hadn’t just healed you, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. Come on, I’ll drive you home to make up for it,” Sam said, pulling Gabriel towards the door. 

“You’re a real gentleman, Winchester.”