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Breathe Into Me

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And this is how it feels when I ignore the words you spoke to me

And this is where I lose myself when I keep running away from you

And this is who I am when, when I don't know myself anymore

And this is what I choose when it's all left up to me


And this is how it looks when I am standing on the edge

And this is how I break apart when I finally hit the ground

And this is how it hurts when I pretend I don't feel any pain

And this is how I disappear when I throw myself away


Breathe your life into me

I can feel you

I'm falling, falling faster

Breathe your life into me

I still need you

I'm falling, falling

Breathe into me


“I’m tellin’ you Cas; this case is just friggin’ weird,” Dean slid into the impala, glancing back at the grotty motel as he shut the door.

Tilting his head, Cas followed Dean’s gaze towards the motel.  “I do agree, the elements of this case are extremely peculiar. And both you and Sam have expressed your annoyance at not being able to identify the creature behind these events, which leads to even greater concern as I am unaware as to the power levels of the unknown perpetrator,” Pausing, Cas reached over and slowly placed his hand on Dean’s, which was gripping the steering wheel of the impala. “And I can assure you, we will find a way to help Sam. He has acknowledged his weaknesses and is working with you to try and overcome them, you must have faith.”

The moment Cas’ hand touched his own, Dean relaxed; he couldn’t fight the flow of Cas’ grace. It overcame him, and flushed out the feeling of dread and concern about Sam that filled him, and allowed him to contain it, working through it constructively so he didn’t become the walking embodiment of rage.

“Don’t blackmail me with that bond,” he grumbled, and started the impala. But he had to grin when Cas withdrew his hand, looking confused.

“It was not my intention to blackmail you Dean. As you-”

Dean kissed him to cut him off. “Sarcasm Cas, that was sarcasm.”

“Oh.” Cas answered before leaning back and gazing thoughtfully out the window. “I shall try to remember that for future occasions.”

Smiling wryly, Dean pulled out of the parking space, shooting one more concerned look towards the motel and pulling out onto the highway.

The car was quiet for a few moments until Cas spoke. “I believe we need to be increasingly careful of your brother’s confrontation with Lucifer this time.”

“Why do you say that?” Dean murmured, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

“His mental state is increasingly fragile; the presence of Lucifer is wearing him down significantly. And the fact that Sam is unable to tell us what Lucifer wants is not the news we need or want. Lucifer could be telling Sam anything, and we would be powerless to prevent the consequences.”

“So Lucifer is sitting inside Sam’s melon, telling him crap that could do what exactly?”

“The possibilities are endless Dean; it is unwise for us to think about the consequences, it would waste far too much time.”

“Well let’s solve this case and get back to helping Sam find his marbles,” Dean grumbled angrily. “Right, so what do we know so far?”

“Many strange weather events have been recorded in the surrounding area and when the events were plotted on a map by your brother it was clear that many other unique proceedings took place in the area of land inside the weather circle.”

“Such as?” Dean prompted.

Nodding at Dean, Cas continued and reached round to grab the newspaper that was resting on the back seat of the impala, and began talking as he did so. “According to the article your brother circled earlier, several days ago, a confectionary factory named ‘Sampala’ was involved in an explosion which resulted in sweets being showered over a 14 mile radius.”

“14 miles? How the hell do sweets get blown 14 frickin’ miles?” Dean burst out, interrupting Cas.

Cas opened his mouth to reply. Dean sighed and rolled his eyes to watching the road. “It was a rhetorical question, Cas”

Cas closed his mouth.

“Just carry on,” Dean replied.

Cas continued, trying to regain his composure under the pressure of Deans presence. “This company was also linked to a recent incident in which the chocolate was producing unwanted side effects, including turning peoples hair a different colour and vomiting what appeared to be clumps of glitter. There also appears to be a very interesting side effect which involved them becoming magnetic to-” Cas paused and frowned at the newspaper.

“Well come on, Cas. Spit it out,” Dean said, intrigued.

“A moustache,” came Cas’ bemused response

“A what?” Dean pulled into a parking space outside a diner and turned to Cas.

“A moustache, Dean. I believe it is what you humans call upper lip-”

‘I know what they are Cas,’ Dean snapped.

Cas replied, his head tilted. “It appears, familiar,” clearly not phased by Deans outburst.

Dean pulled into a parking space outside a diner and turned to Cas.

Dean glanced at the paper in Cas’ hands. “Looks like a terrible 70s porn moustache if you ask me.” He then proceeded to pluck the paper out of Cas’ hands and fold it up. “Come on, we can look at this in the diner.”

Dean clambered out the impala and headed towards the diner.

He stopped however when Cas’ voice sounded from behind him.

“Dean, considering we are a couple, isn’t it a common procedure for me to take your hand as we enter public establishments?” he asked.

Dean’s heart melted but of course he didn’t verbalise this as he was a tough hunter and extremely emotionally constipated when push came to the shove. “Yes Cas, but that would look a little odd as we are supposed to be FBI agents at this moment in time, and they just don’t do that kinda thing.”

Cas looked a little deflated before catching up with Dean. “I suppose we shall make up for it later,” he murmured and pushed Dean towards the diner, following him through the door.


As soon as Dean entered the diner it felt eerily familiar. He headed straight for a booth in the corner, a weird feeling settling in his stomach as he passed a cheery waitress in a yellow uniform, chuckling as she dropped the hot sauce and gasping as someone caught the sauce with some form of miraculous reflex.

“I don’t like this place.” Dean murmured as they sat down. “I feel like I’ve been here before, and not for a good reason.”

“Ah, Pig ‘n’ a Poke” Dean read from a sign, pleasingly.

Looking up, he saw Cas frowning and it reminded him of something Cas has said the other day.

“And what was it you mentioned earlier?” Dean asked. “Something about a,” he waved his hand in the air flippantly, “tingly feeling?”

“Ah, yes,” Cas agreed solemnly. “I am able to detect the presence of something but that something, it’s shielding itself from me.”

“Which means...” Dean trailed off, lost in thought.

“It is an unknown enemy?” Cas offered.

“No dumbass. It means whatever we are dealing with is more powerful than you. Which means we’ve gotta watch our backs” he sighed loudly, pulling out the newspaper and spreading it out on the table. Dean didn’t have time to proceed any further as one of the cheery waitresses approached their table.

“And what can I get you fine gentleman today?” She asked, her voice bright and squeaky. In her hand was a dark red cherry lolly pop which she tucked into the side of her cheek as she poised her pen to take their order.

“I’ll have the pig ‘n a poke and a coffee. And he’ll have the pancakes and coffee.” Dean spoke quickly, eager to eat and leave this place as fast as he could.

Smiling brightly once more, the waitress nodded before turning round and heading towards the kitchen. “So, where’s the bit about the dodgy porn moustache? Ahaa!” he cried and ran his finger along the article as he read aloud.  “Members of the public who ate products of the Sampala chocolate company are said to of been experiencing hallucinations which included visions of seeing themselves covered in the moustache pictured…” Dean trailed off.

“This is crazy. What the hell is going on? And- shit.” Dean froze, his jaw dropping. “Cas, get a load of this.

He turned the paper around, which was now open on a double page spread for the only car make Cas could recognise- Chevrolet.

“Look at the number plates,” Dean hissed, smiling tightly as the waitress delivered their coffee.

“KAZ 2Y5,” Cas read aloud. “I believe that to be one of your number plates, Dean,” he muttered, his blue eyes locking with Dean’s.

“That’s cause it is,” Dean said in a worried tone.

Cas carried on reading the number plate of the next car on the advert and it got a whole lot worse. “CAS 2Y5” He then looked at the number plate of the next car, “CAS H31P.”

“Help?” Dean repeated. “This, whatever it is, wants help?”


Dean looked around the diner suspiciously. “Okay well this has definitely gone to the top of the creepy scale.”

He paused, looking up as a weird expression came across Cas’ face. “Cas? Cas, you okay?”

“I can feel that tingle again, but it, it is stronger,” he panted, and Dean could only watch as Cas’ brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to locate the source of the ‘weird tingly feeling’.  Suddenly his brow relaxed, but he still had a confused look upon his face. “I don’t believe that this is a hostile force,” he began, “I believe that whoever this is, wants to talk to us.”

“Us?” Dean repeated.

“Yes Dean, us,” Cas deadpanned, and eyed the mug of coffee in front of him with a great deal of suspicion. Picking up the cup gingerly he slowly brought it to his lips, pulling a face as the bitter taste connected with his tongue. “I do not understand why you find this beverage enjoyable Dean, it is nothing but plain.”

Dean just smiled quietly and sipped his own coffee; mulling over the facts before him in his head. It was all becoming a bit too familiar, all though he couldn’t fit the pieces together to figure out why.


The room was dark, empty and cold.

Like me really, Sam thought to himself.

Sam sat slumped on the scratched wooden table that was leant against the wall of their motel room, covered in marks, scratches, stains and god knows what else. The wood itself had probably been a light chestnut colour, but now it was a tainted brown, the kind you got when you mixed every colour of paint together.

The rooms itself wasn’t much better. The walls were peeling and faded, what may have been a bright yellow, now being a dull brown. The curtains covering the battered window were old and torn, barely managing to block out any of the dull light coming from the lamp hanging on the wall outside.

Softly, Sam scuffed his shoe against the carpet, not even wanting to think about the dodgy stains he’d seen on the floor earlier, and if he was being honest, he’d been covered in some disgusting crap before, so some human bodily fluids couldn’t get much worse.

It worried him when he was alone like this, without Lucifer murmuring into his ear. Not that he wanted Lucifer wandering through his brain anyway; it was just easier to know he wasn’t torturing Dean, Bobby or Cas. Because Sam got what he deserved, he was the abomination that drank demon blood, he deserved everything he got.

Although he wished Dean wouldn’t treat him with such fragility. If he broke, Dean broke. That’s it. No alternate story lines and no turning back.

But at least this was happening to Dean and not him, and Dean had Cas to catch him when Sam fell. All Sam had was Lucifer’s taunts and jests which he couldn’t even talk about to Dean. Lucifer had threatened in quiet tones about what he would do if Sam told Dean anything more than Lucifer’s presence, and Sam was terrified.

He had finished researching barely 5 minutes after Dean and Cas had left, there wasn’t very much to go on and he was just drawling up the same useless crap over and over.  Since that point Sam had just sat back down on the chair and sunk further and further away from what Dean considered to be ‘their kind of normal’.

In an attempt to pull himself away from the dangerous place he was heading towards, Sam reached into Dean’s duffle and pulled out a disc, hoping it was some weird brand of Asian porn he could distract himself from.

Porn would be a loose term to describe what filled the screen but it filled Sam with absolute horror. He hadn’t been paying attention to what was going on until a loud ‘I’ve got the kielbasa you ordered.’ Burst out of the laptop speakers.

Sam was frozen, his eyes transfixed on Gabriel’s pixelated figure dancing across the screen. And it not only broke his heart, it completely obliterated what was left.

And as hard as he tried, Sam couldn’t switch it off. His heart, his whole being ached for Gabriel for reasons he wasn’t quite sure of. Just as Sam passed the point at which he and Dean had reached when they had watched Casa Erotica after Gabriel had died, the program suddenly froze, leaving Gabriel’s wide smile filling the screen.

Feelings of incredible self-hatred rose up in Sam at that point. All that they had gone through, all that they had lost and Sam still ended up as a drivelling mess with Lucifer swimming around in his brain pool. Was he really worth the trouble anymore? He had caused so much pain, he had caused the apocalypse, and maybe the world would do better without an abhorrence walking the earth.

Before Sam could wrench the DVD from his laptop and crush it into a thousand pieces, Gabriel’s face began moving again. Sam sat mesmerised as Gabriel’s soft voice filled the room.

“Now I can only assume it’s you watching this Sam,” Gabriel began, winking at the girl on the bed before snapping her away. “I doubt Castiel would let Dean near this again. Now I know you Winchesters will be having all sorts of crazy ass ideas to get my dear brother to hop back into his box. It won’t be easy, it’ll be almost goddamn impossible, but Sam if you just promise me one thing, one little thing I’ll be able to rest easy,” Gabriel paused, his golden eyes shining through the dull screen of the laptop. “Just promise me no stupid self-sacrifices,” he grumbled, and then his eyes seemed to harden, “Especially you Sam, especially you. I can’t come back and save your ass every time you fall. So go out and save the world, and shove my brother back where he belongs,” Gabriel winked, and then the screen went black.

Falling back against the chair, Sam stared at the ceiling, Gabriel’s words swirling round his mind. But before he could even begin to connect the dots, a soft velvety voice came from across the room.

“Sammy, you know Gabriel wasted his life for nothing don’t you? Don’t you know him at all?”

Looking up, Sam found Lucifer lounging across his bed.

“I don’t even know myself anymore,” Sam muttered, his eyes fixed on one of the many dodgy carpet stains.

Lucifer sat up straighter and opened his arms wide. “Exactly! So why don’t you get it all over with now and come back down to me. I do miss you, you know.”

Seemingly frustrated by Sam’s lack of an answer, Lucifer disappeared, but from experience Sam knew he wouldn’t be gone long, and sure enough he was right. Just a few moments later Lucifer reappeared in the chair across from Sam, his vessel’s long legs stretched out onto the scruffy table.

“Come on Sam! Talk to me, don’t ignore me. How can you forget about our wonderful time together?” Lucifer paused, looking mournful. “Sammy dear, you owe me a great deal.”

Snarling, Sam thumped the table loudly with his hands before getting up, kicking the chair into a corner and thundering across the room to lie face down on the bed Lucifer had just vacated, all the while trying to ignore the loud whoops and cheers coming from Lucifer. “I don’t owe you a single thing,” he muttered into the pillow.

Sam assumed that Lucifer had stayed in his place at the table, but his quiet voice still carried across the room and left an unnerving chill in its wake. “Oh but you do Sam Winchester. Think of all the things you’ve done, all the people you’ve hurt or killed. Think of all that guilt.”

The knots in Sam’s stomach tightened, he was practically the walking embodiment of guilt, and Lucifer knew that.

As Lucifer carried on, Sam could almost see the smirk on his face.

“And you’ve hurt me too Sam. All that hard work making sure that you were ready to accept me, and let us move on into a brighter light together. But no, you had to start the apocalypse and then throw it all away. All my hard work, wasted. So you see Samuel Winchester, you owe me penance.  Therefore I suggest you get your sorry ass down here, before I make everyone you love suffer before dragging you down,” Lucifer fell quiet after unveiling his daily threat, yet it felt slightly different for Sam this time.

He couldn’t exactly pin it down on something specific, but he figured that thinking he was actually worth something probably had something to do with it.

“There we go Sammy,” Lucifer’s quiet voice cooed from the corner. “Everybody up here treats you as the demon blood addict who caused the apocalypse. Keep up self-hatred like that and we’ll be reunited before you know it.”

Lifting his head, Sam saw Lucifer had moved closer and was now lying on Dean’s bed fiddling with a loose thread.

“And while we’re on the subject of self-hatred,” Lucifer continued, “Just imagine what Gabriel would think if you weren’t playing your role huh? He would be so disappointed.”

A choked sob escaped from Sam’s chest before he could stop it. The feelings of regret, disappointment and sheer grief stirred up from watching Gabriel’s pixelated face from Casa Erotica hurt him more than he would ever admit, but even without asking, Lucifer seemed to just know what he did and what he didn’t do, and was intent on punishing Sam from ever falling in love with the archangel, Gabriel.

Lucifer disappeared then reappeared on the bed next to Sam, seemingly holding him in place before he could even think of moving. “You see, what I think Sam, is that my silly little brother missed his chance with you,” Lucifer scoffed, “Well I say chance, that’s a bit of a loose term I’ll admit. But that ship sailed long ago, and now Sammy, you’re my little bitch.”

 “I’m not your little bitch,” Sam denied almost immediately, desperately wishing he could move away but something held him in place; not allowing him to move an inch.

Lucifer’s hand brushed down his face, “Oh but Sammy you are. You really, really are,” His hand was gentle, but left an ice cold touch in its wake.  “If you won’t be my meat suit, not that I really need one down in the cage, then at least be my play toy. Just think of all the pain, the pain that you deserve.”

Sam flinched.

“I don’t know why I’m bothering anyway, I’ll probably end up dead knowing your track record Sammy dear, it’s your fault that Gabriel’s dead,” he smirked, and Sam despised the way Gabriel’s name passed through Lucifer’s lips like it was tainted, dirty.

“It is not my fault,” Sam yelled, still paralysed on the bed next to Lucifer.

“Denial!” Lucifer cackled.

“Gabriel sacrificed himself when he went up against you; he knew he couldn’t win against you. He did it to help us!” Sam yelled, his voice cracking on Gabriel’s name. “He knew a win over you was impossible.”

“Oh no Sam. You’ve got it completely wrong.” Lucifer’s tone was mocking. “Sammy, he didn’t do it for you and Dean, he only did it for you! Do you really think, considering our brother’s relationship, that Gabriel would do anything remotely like self-sacrifice if Dean is involved? No. He did it for you,” shrugging, Lucifer curled closer to Sam, ignoring the panic in Sam’s expression and started stroking Sam’s broad chest. “And he died, so it’s basically your fault.”

Tears then started to trickle down Sam’s cheeks. Maybe it was his fault after all.

“Of course it’s your fault; you’re Sam Winchester.”

Sam was finding it hard to breathe properly now, the air was reluctant to leave his lungs for some reason.

“And of course, the fun we’re going to have down there will be marvellous Sam,” Lucifer continued, dragging his hand down Sam’s thigh.

“I would never sleep with you,” Sam spat out through gritted teeth.

“Oh please, you slept with Ruby, and it’s not like you’d have a choice Sammy dear. My cage, not yours.”

Chuckling lightly Lucifer wrapped his arm round Sam’s shoulders and squeezed slightly, ignoring the wrecked sobs coming from Sam’s petrified expression.  “I’m glad you’re going to make your way to me yourself. Killing Gabriel took effort,” he sighed loudly, and glanced at Sam. “Oh do stop snivelling, you look worse than my brother did when I rammed that blasted angel sword through his chest.”

And with that Lucifer vanished, leaving Sam trembling and shivering.

Tucking his legs up into his chest, Sam curled up into a ball in the centre of the bed, trying to ignore the images of all the people he’d killed whirling round his head, their voices crying out for help. He covered his ears with his hands but their screaming cries still got through.

“I’m sorry,” Sam sobbed. “I’m so, so sorry.”

The piercing screams seemed to grow louder and they tore through Sam, tearing at his heart and soul. As their twisted words and curses faded to whispers, Sam began to think Lucifer was right, and maybe he would be better off back down in the cage; he wasn’t much use to anybody up here.

Maybe if Sam went downstairs, he could kill Lucifer from within in the cage, or stop demons coming up here or something.

But there was still one obstacle. Dean.

Leaving his brother was something Sam never ever wanted to do, that stupid ‘co-dependency’ thing that they had going on always kept them as thick as thieves, but it was their weakness, and it had always been used against them.

So, if Sam wasn’t there, Dean would be safer. Right?

And Cas had Dean’s back, and would stop Dean doing something spectacularly stupid to try and bring him back.

Continuing to mull this over, Sam got up and ghosted his hand over the gun balanced on the top of his duffle bag. Ending this would be almost painless, and quick. Plus no one would be able to stop him, they wouldn’t know. And Cas could clean up before Dean saw him.

Before he could lose the nerve or hurt anyone else, Sam quickly scratched out a note to Dean and placed it on Dean’s pillow before sitting down on his bed to pray to Cas.

“Erm, so I pray to angel Castiel to er, leave a thank you message. And goodbye. I’ve mostly explained in the letter on Dean’s bed what’s going on, and to be honest this is my only way out. I don’t feel stable, I feel dangerous and I don’t want to hurt anyone else. If I’m with him no one else can get hurt except me and I deserve it, I-” Sam’s voice cracked as he tried to hold back the tears. “I can’t lose anyone again.” His voice trailed off. “I’m sorry Gabriel.”

Breathing deeply Sam picked up the gun, flicked off the safety catch and pressed it against his forehead. Well, there was no time like the present.


Even by the time he’d finished his pig ‘n a poke and the leftovers of Cas’ pancakes, Dean still couldn’t understand the unnerving familiarity about their current situation.

That was until Cas commented on the waitress’ in the diner.

“I still do not understand the reason behind some humans wanting to play their roles in society and others do not,” he mused.

“It’s called individuality Cas,” Dean replied before paling and setting his fork down on the table. “Son of a bitch. It’s-”

Suddenly the diner vanished from around Dean and Cas and the pair of them found themselves in a luxurious apartment in god knows where.

“Well howdy fellas; took you muttonheads long enough!”

“Gabriel,” Dean finished quietly, the angel blade from his jacket already in hand. “We thought you were dead.”

“So did I.” Gabriel’s cheerful expression drooped for a second but soon returned. “But it turns out hiding your grace in a porn disc does the world of good.”

Dean turned to Cas. “Is it him?”

“Yes,” Cas nodded, “my brother has returned.”

Relaxing slightly at this, Dean slipped the blade back into his jacket. “What the hell is going on Gabriel? And I’m not even totally sure I can even trust a word that you say,” Dean snarled.

 “Never said you had to!” Gabriel snapped back, his hands raised in defence. “Just figured you’d want my help now I’m back. I hear heaven’s gone to the dogs…” He trailed off suggestively and turned to Castiel.

“After the fall of Lucifer and Michael into the cage, heaven has fallen to disarray,” Cas summed up the events of the past years in a sentence, massively down playing the seriousness of the situation in his usual way.

Gabriel’s face fell. “I didn’t know Michael was in the cage too,” he sighed, all his usual bravado gone; instead it was replaced with the cold, harsh expression of an archangel.  “I need to know exactly what happened after the Elysian Fields Hotel incident,” he stopped abruptly when he noticed the look Cas gave Dean. “What?”

“I am concerned that you will not react well, to certain aspects… Aspects that, that Dean is not aware of,” Cas said quietly, slowly taking Dean’s hand and rubbing soothing circles into his palm.

“Aspects I’m not aware of?!” Dean burst out at the same time as Gabriel cried out.


Cas tilted his head. “I wasn’t aware your feelings had changed,” he mumbled in a confused tone.

“What- oh shit. Castiel what the hell? How? What-” Gabriel had turned bright red, and was spluttering, staring incredously at the bond.

“As I myself have been distant from Heaven for a long time, and as you have been separate from our brothers for even longer I was able to pick up on the changes in your grave before you blocked me with the bond.”

Gabriel just stared at Cas blankly before he waved his hand dismissively. “We shall talk about that later, little brother, for now the apocalypse.”

At this point Dean was pretty pissed, Cas never kept secrets.

“Cas? You mind explaining what’s going on?” he raised his eyebrow as he turned to Cas.

Before Cas could open his mouth to speak, Gabriel interrupted him. “Do not say a word Castiel.” He boomed, flashes of the power he was capable flitting across his face.

“It is vital that Dean knows,” Castiel frowned. “And you may be able to help with Samuel which requires Dean’s knowledge.”

Gabriel frowned but didn’t say anything, a look of concern settled on his face.

“Gabriel believes that your brother is his mate, like you are my mate,” Castiel began, pulling Dean over to one of the couches in the room Gabriel had brought them too and sat down next to him. “I cannot tell you many explicit details of their relationship because it is neither my business to know or to tell. But unlike us neither of them fully explored the bond that was formed, mainly because of the influence of Lucifer and the demon blood, and I think that-”

“He’s the only one who can help Sammy now,” Dean finished glumly, staring at the brightly coloured spots on the carpet.

“Help Sammy? Why?” Gabriel whispered, his face a mask of concern.

“Let me fill you in on the events of the past few months brother, and then we shall explain,” Cas said solemnly and got up. He walked over to Gabriel and held out his hand, which Gabriel took.

Dean wasn’t sure what was going on, but he assumed that it was some sort of weird angel information transfer thing. He watched as Cas let go and stepped back, eyeing Gabriel with a look of concern.

“Sam spent a year in the cage with Michael and Lucifer?” he whispered into the empty air. Then looking up at Castiel, “Well I’m not surprised Lucifer’s swimming in his mind custard. What’s he been saying?” The angel asked, snapping a couple of beers into existence on the table and leaning forward to grab one.

Dean was far too worried about Sammy to even be weirded out by Sammy’s so called bond with this crazy archangel. His brother was in a bad place, and Dean just wanted him back.

“He won’t tell us,” Dean began quietly and looked directly at Gabriel, “It’s like he wants to tell us, but he can’t, like something is stopping him. But he’s struggling to tell what’s real now; it’s dangerous for him to go anywhere. All he sees is Lucifer.”

The room fell quiet after Dean finished speaking and Dean felt like his throat was closing up. It hurt him more than he could say to watch Sam fall apart before his eyes.

Cas moved back and sat down next to Dean, and wrapped his grace around Dean’s soul; comforting him.

Suddenly Cas sat bolt upright. “I think someone is praying to me.”  He murmured, and then his face glossed over.

“Cas? Cas?! Gabriel, what’s he doing?” Dean shouted, waving his hand in front of Cas’ face.

“Dean!” Gabriel snapped and snatched his hand away. “I think he’s going to read out the message through himself.”

The voice that came out of Cas’ mouth next was not his own, monotonous and robotic. “Erm, so I pray to angel Castiel to er, leave a thank you message. And goodbye. I’ve mostly explained in the letter on Dean’s bed what’s going on, and to be honest this is my only way out. I don’t feel stable, I feel dangerous and I don’t want to hurt anyone else. If I’m with him no one else can get hurt except me and I deserve it, I- I can’t lose anyone again. I’m sorry Gabriel.”

Terror rose in Dean like vomit. “That was Sammy, Cas that was Sammy what does he mean?” He mumbled as he sank to his knees beside Cas.

Blinking, Cas came out of his trance. “I believe that Sam left me a suicide note.”

“Well let’s go back we’ve got to stop him!” Dean roared, anger pulsing through his veins. His brother, his little brother couldn’t leave him in this way. He just couldn’t.

“I’ll go. If I appear it might shock him and make him hold off long enough and stop him,” Gabriel muttered and disappeared in a flutter, brought back from the dead in the way that none of them knew, left them in a random room he didn’t know where and Sammy was attempting to kill himself.

Unable to move, Dean just knelt on the floor and let the wave of unimaginable fear wash over him. He wasn’t sure where he should go or what he should do. Gabriel had reappeared in their lives,

And as Cas held him close, all Dean could do was wait numbly.


Gabriel appeared in the room Castiel had shown him and his heart was utterly torn by the sight in front of him.

Sam’s hair was limp and hung lifeless by his head. Dark circles surrounded his eyes and he looked more than tired. He looked like life had been sucked out of him.

Well my brother has certainly been here, Gabriel thought sadly.

He stepped out the plane of time which he had hidden himself in.

“Sammy, Sammy please I’m here.”

Sam’s eyes snapped open and widened when he saw Gabriel standing by the door.

“No, no this isn’t fair,” he whimpered. “No, I’m coming please don’t do this, please,” the gun in his hand was now shaking.

“Sam, Sammy love I’m really here,” Gabriel whispered, not daring to step closer.

“No, no you’re not. That’s what you tell me every time and I know, I know it’s all my fault. It’s my fault you died and I’m sorry.”

“Sammy no-”

And for the one time in his life Gabriel felt powerless, his heart was ripped to shreds as he watched his mate lose the fight against his brother.

Samuel Winchester, fatal gunshot to the head.