Chapter 1: White Suits and Tear Tracks
“Hello, Gabriel.” The archangel appeared behind Lucifer, looking shocked, putting a hand on his chest to check if this was real. His hand travelled down to his stomach, feeling for a wound.
“Lucifer, what is-” He froze, amber eyes locked onto the white suit. Lucifer spun around, twirling a little and smiling at his brother sadistically.
“Do you like my new meat-suit, Gabe?” Gabriel’s shoulders started to shake, tears rolling down his face unbidden.
“Sam…” He looked at Lucifer with the same expression that he had when Lucifer plunged the blade into his body back at Elysian Fields, the hotel where he had died a few years ago. “This is fake. It can’t be real.” He looked betrayed, wounded even, like a dog that had loved its master and been left on the side of the road. “Sam would never…”
“He did. And his one condition was that I restore you. Not Jess.” Gabriel was breathing heavily, looking around in panic.
“I’m not worth it -”
“You’re absolutely right,” Lucifer sneered. “You’re not. Bad decision on Sam’s part, bargaining to restore someone as worthless as you.” A hand traced its way down Gabriel’s face, stopping at his chin, tilting it up. Gabriel stared at his brother with broken eyes. “He can’t hear you, so no use trying.”
“Stop it,” Gabriel pleaded. “Let Sam go.” Lucifer laughed harshly, making the shorter one flinch.
“I don’t think that’s going to happen.” He smiled at Gabriel with Sam’s face, Sam’s eyes. Gabriel shook slightly, his lower lip trembling. "Will you help me, Gabriel? We could do so much together."
The younger archangel shook free, fury blazing in his face, his eyes. His mouth twisted to a snarl, and lightning flashed once outside, followed by a boom of thunder, like rolling drums mourning the loss of someone loved.
“Kiss my ass, Lucifer. I won’t ever help you. I owe that to Sam.” Lucifer frowned slightly, before grabbing Gabriel’s wrist. Gabe screamed as runes burned into his skin, all up his arm, binding him to Lucifer.
“I think you will. I think you owe that to Sam.” Gabriel sunk to the floor, clutching his wrist and examining the sigils. His face crumpled when he realized what they were.
“How dare you.” His voice shook with grief. “You’ve taken everything. You have no right-”
“I have every right. And now you belong to me.” Gabriel looked away, breathing heavily. “And I will break you. I said I would resurrect you, but I didn’t mention the price to Sam. It seems to have evaded my memory.” Gabriel laughed hollowly.
“You sneaky bastard. These are binding sigils.” There was no bite behind his voice.
“You have to do what I tell you now,” Lucifer continued in Sam’s voice. Gabriel screamed in pain as the sigils flared with a wave of Lucifer’s hand. “Or it hurts. A lot.”
“Stop, stop, please…”
“You belong to me. Respectively. And I will do what I want with you. You will go where I want, when I want, how I want.” Lucifer thought for a second. “Would you like to talk to Sam?”
“No,” Gabriel hissed. “Not after what you did.”
“Oh, he won’t be able to tell,” Lucifer said dismissively. “And if you tell him, I’ll punish you.” Gabriel drew in a hissing breath as Lucifer’s face changed, grew softer, more innocent. Sam stared down at the golden-haired archangel.
“Gabe?” Gabriel smiled through tears.
“Why are you on the floor?” The archangel bit his lip.
“I...tripped.” Sam laughed, helping him up.
“Clumsy as ever.”
“You know it.” Gabriel couldn’t bring his eyes to reflect his smile. Sam frowned.
“There’s something wrong. What’s wrong?” Gabriel’s mouth smiled wider, but his eyes darkened.
“Nothing’s wrong, Sammy. I’m just happy to see you.” He hugged Sam tightly. Sam hugged him back. Sam frowned.
“He wants out again, Gabe.” Gabriel nodded tightly.
“It’s okay. I love-”
“Who do you love?” Sam’s eyes flared red, and it wasn’t Sam, not anymore. Gabriel let his facade crash to the ground, and he stared at Lucifer with defiance.
“Well, it ain’t you.”
“Why are you on the floor, Gabe?” Lucifer mocked. “Clumsy as ever, Gabe.” Gabriel looked down.
“You were listening.”
“Of course,” Lucifer sneered. “I wanted to know if you were going to disobey.” Gabriel bowed his head.
“Of course. I understand.” Lucifer nodded.
“Good dog.” Gabriel let a few tears fall. This was all wrong.
"Sam..." he whispered. "If you can hear me, I'm so sorry for failing you before. At the hotel. I was weak. And now this happened. I deserve this."
"You do," came a reply like a knife.
Sam watched Gabriel kneel. He turned to Lucifer.
“What did you do?” Lucifer smirked.
“I resurrected him. Just like you asked.” Sam strode over to the Devil in a rage and grabbed him by the shirt.
“That’s no life that you’ve given him!”
“What are you going to do about it?” Lucifer’s smirk widened.
“Stop it,” Sam pleaded. “Let Gabriel go.” Lucifer yanked himself away from the Winchester.
“He said the same thing to me about you. Really, it’s so pitiful. You’re both trying to save the other, and just end up sacrificing yourself.”
Two weeks later, and nothing was better. Gabriel was broken. He had given up. That much was obvious. And Sam could do nothing.
“You’re making him kill!”
“Yes, Sam. I am. And what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to make you leave.” Sam closed his eyes, anger pulsing through his veins. “I have the ability to cast you out, remember?” Lucifer laughed nervously.
“You can’t do that, Sam. Sorry. Archangel rules are different.”
“Get out.” Lucifer’s form blurred. “Get out of my body.” Light shot through Sam’s head, and he screamed.
Lucifer doubled over in front of Gabriel, howling and clutching at his head.
“What’s going on?” Gabriel yelled, rushing to him with blood-covered hands. Lucifer looked at him with red-rimmed eyes, his irises flicking rapidly between hazel-green and orangish, glowing red.
“Stay back, dog.” Lucifer flicked his hand, and Gabriel went sailing back, hitting a wall and collapsing. He found the strength to get up slowly, amber eyes glittering, face crinkling into a malicious smile.
“Sam’s casting you out, you sonuvabitch. Heh. Shouldn’t’ve fucked with a Winchester. My Winchester.” His binding sigils lit up at Lucifer’s command and he screamed in pain, writhing. Lucifer, breathing heavily, raised his hand and the runes glowed brighter still, making Gabriel wail.
“I can still kill you.” Lucifer’s voice was wrong, a voice on a voice on a voice, reverberating, layered. The runes lit the room with red light, and Gabriel spasmed, shook, fell to lean against the wall, shrieking all the while. After a minute, the light in his eyes faded.
A white light shot out of Sam’s mouth, tinged with red, circling above them, on the ceiling before escaping through a vent. The runes dimmed. Gabriel lay still, his face pallid, his body limp. Sam fell to the floor, panting. Hazel eyes flicked to Gabriel’s still form, and he half-crawled, half-scrambled over to where the archangel lay.
“Gabe, no, no, no…” Sam shook, cradling Gabriel’s head in his arms. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, this is my fault, all my fault-” His voice broke and he pressed his forehead to Gabriel’s. “I love you. Please don’t go, don’t leave me… don’t leave me all alone..” He sobbed, tears falling onto Gabriel’s face and rolling down his cheeks. Gabriel’s head lolled back limply, and Sam let out a choked sob, holding the small being’s body close to his, as if that would somehow bring him back. “No, Gabe, no, don’t…”
“Is this some kind of bad western where the girl cries over the cowboy’s corpse?” a weak voice asked, and Sam’s eyes shot to Gabriel’s face in shock.
“Ain’t dead yet, kiddo,” Gabriel said, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. “You kicked my dick brother out. Nice job.” Sam laughed, still crying.
“You’re a cowboy now?”
“Hell yeah.” Gabriel leaned up and kissed Sam gently, then fell back with a groan of pain. “Owww… jeez, Luci did a number on my Grace.” Sam traced a rapidly fading sigil on Gabriel’s arm with a finger, trying to get over the fact that he had just been kissed by an archangel.
“Gabriel, I’m so sorry…”
“I’m good, Sam. I’m good.” Gabriel meant it. “I’m alive. I’m with you and it’s all good.” Sam smiled softly, picking Gabriel up like a bride.
“We’ll work this out, but right now you need rest. And I need to explain to Dean why I just...left and became Satan without telling him.” Gabriel’s hand came up and weakly petted Sam’s hair. Honey eyes stared fondly at Sam, and for the first time in weeks, Gabriel saw a future with hope.
“He’s going to fry me alive like a serial killer Colonel Sanders.”
“Don’t worry.” Sam kissed the top of Gabriel’s head, getting a blush and a muttered comment of ‘Stop it, you damned sap’. “I won’t let him hurt you.”
“You mean that?”
“Yes.” Gabriel huffed happily, snuggling into Sam’s chest. Sam smiled and held him tightly. “I’m never letting you go again.”
“Is that a threat?”
“It’s a promise. I love you, short stack.”
“I love you too, you freakin’ skyscraper.”
Chapter 2: The Homophobic Clown Gets His Just Desserts
This is fluff and crack to make up for that first chapter.
Okay, I was not originally planning to do this, but it kind of happened.
I drew some art for this. Can you see it? It's the first time I'm posting something, and I'm just curious because I can see it in the editor. If you comment, I will try to draw art for you and make a new fic that's just kind of a gallery, and I am also taking story suggestions! Love you guys!!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
They had borrowed (read: hotwired) a car, because Gabriel was too lazy to fly them home, or maybe the archangel just wanted to hold Sam’s hand for a longer time. They were about three hours away from Kansas and a place that Sam told Gabriel he lived in, when Gabriel saw the colored lights.
“Sam, it's a carnival!”
“Gabe, you're covered in blood.” Gabriel snapped his fingers and he was clean, in his usual green jacket, and Sam was in soft flannel and jeans, not the horrid white suit. “Oh...thanks. Did you peek when my clothes were changing?” He looked at Gabriel suspiciously, who kept a carefully neutral face, his mouth still twitching at the corners. “You peeked.”
“Dammit!” Gabriel said exasperatedly, grinning at the human. “Busted.” Sam laughed.
“So we get to stop at the carnival now?”
“Hell yeah!” Sam pulled the borrowed car over and they hopped out, stretching a little and walking towards the music and lights.
“I’m way too old for this,” Sam mumbled as Gabriel bounced around like he was three years old.
“You’re too old?”
“And I stand corrected. Kudos to the billion-year-old being.” Sam’s head turned and he saw a vendor selling warm scarves- it was autumn, and chilly that night. He walked over and bought a simple red one (The neon rainbow gave him a headache), looping it in his arms and sneaking up behind Gabriel. The golden-eyed man was staring at a tiger when he got attacked by something fluffy going over his face and around his neck. He squeaked and flailed briefly, and then relaxed as he realized that it was, in fact, a scarf, and Sam was chuckling softly behind him.
“You little shit,” he said weakly. “Is the aneurysm you just gave me payback for the peeking?”
“No, it’s because I don’t want you to get cold.”
“I don’t get cold.” Gabriel still pulled the scarf around him and breathed out happily, leaning into Sam as they walked through the dead, trodden grass.
They were about halfway through the carnival, which was about like any other roadside carnival. There were the garish lights and the tacky music and collectibles, and it was so cliche that it was almost painful. But Sam found himself having a good time, laughing and chatting with his...friend? That wasn’t right, in any way. Boyfriend? It seemed right, but Sam was fairly sure that he wasn’t gay. Bisexual then? Did it matter?
“I think you’re Gabrielsexual, kiddo.” Sam’s eyes widened. Had he spoken out loud? “No, but this has gotten your panties in such a twist that your thoughts are basically shouting through a megaphone.” The archangel walked over to Sam and carefully laced his hand through his own. “I don’t know what you consider taking someone to a carnival, but I’d be willing to consider this a date and then go with it.”
“Yeah, a date,” Sam found himself saying, biting his lip awkwardly but not making a move to let go of Gabriel’s hand. “I’d like that.”
“I mean, I can turn into a girl if it would make you feel more comfortable, but that would mean that I’d be even shorter, so-”
“I think I like you the way you are,” the younger Winchester said softly, squeezing Gabriel’s hand. “You don’t need to change for me, Gabe.” Gabriel laughed and swung their connected hands, carefree.
“I think after this, I get to take you to Greece. Paris, Rome, Budapest, we can go anywhere and any when you want. See the start of democracy and all of your nerd stuff.”
“You’d do that for me?” Sam was almost speechless.
“I’d do just about anything for you, Sam.” They fell silent at the confession, Sam feeling his stomach trying to do acrobatics. What was he, a nervous teenager? The acrobatics got almost Olympic-worthy when he saw what was across from them, and he visibly paled, tugging on Gabriel’s hand.
“Maybe we should turn around..”
“Why?” the ex-Trickster asked innocently, looking at Sam with wide eyes. “Something wrong?”
“No. Yes. Um…” Sam babbled, paralyzed. Gabriel followed where his eyes were going and then snickered.
“You’re six four, have a collection of weapons to supply the US Army, have battled demons and other things that would send most people howling to the loony bin after a year, and you’re afraid of clowns?”
“What does my height have anything to do with it?” Sam queried, shrinking away from the funhouse. Gabriel shook his head and chuckled, and then approached the clown. The taller one yelped and shook his head vehemently as Gabriel beckoned him over. He was not going anywhere near that thing.
“Just a question, my friend,” the archangel said, smiling at the clown. “Why do you insist on giving children and other...various tall sorts mental damage for the rest of their life for little to no pay, and looking ridiculous in the process?” The clown scowled, despite the painted red grin on its face that stretched to its ears.
“Tell your friend…”
“...Boyfriend,” Gabriel said smoothly, feeling his heart soar. The clown looked at him like he was insane and then his eyes widened, ‘getting it’.
“... boyfriend that if he has a problem with my job, he can come over here and talk to me himself.”
“Yeah, I would stick to silent comedy. You say that to any kids and their parents are going to have a fit. You could always fend them off with the water-squirting flowers, though. SAY HELLO TO MY LITTLE FRIEND!” Gabriel dodged, cackling, as the clown swung at him furiously, almost purple through the white face paint.
“Listen, you little fa-”
“I am going to stop you right there and say that if you continue, holy terror is going to rain down on your orange afro wig and you are going to not like it. At all.”
“I’ll say what I like.” Gabriel’s face darkened.
“That’s cool. Say it to the dirt, asshat.” He punched the clown straight in the nose, knocking him to the earth and scrambling back towards Sam. A barrage of cursing worthy of a sailor who had just stubbed his toe followed him, including some choice words about Gabriel’s height (changeable), mother (what mother?), and life goals (...let’s not discuss that). The archangel strode over to Sam, who was almost in tears from laughing.
“Please do that to every homophobic clown on the face of the planet.” Blood was gushing from the clown’s face and people were starting to notice, so Gabriel grabbed Sam’s hand again and made a break for it. They stopped by the arcade and had a healthy fit of giggling before starting on their way again, Sam wiping tears from his eyes and wrapping an arm around his boyfriend. There. That felt right. He doubted that Ruby would've confronted, and subsequently punched, a clown for him, and knowing without a doubt in his mind that Gabriel would made him feel lighter.
They bought cotton candy at one of the vendors. Gabriel almost inhaled it, so it shocked Sam when he held out the remaining fuzz on the cone and then shook it a little, like he expected Sam to eat it. Sam, who was a health nut, almost fainted at the idea.
“I’m not going to eat that, Gabriel. It’s cancer.”
“Exactly. That’s what makes it so good. C’mon, Sam…”
“I am not-” There was something sickly sweet in his mouth. The hunter swung at his boyfriend. “You cheater!” The cone was empty. Gabriel smiled mischievously and his eyes twinkled.
“Why, yes, Sam, I am indeed the Norse god of cheaters.” Sam was dating this? Dean was going to flip. He sighed, but there was no bite to his voice.
“I hate you.”
“I know.” Gabriel still made the letters of the cotton candy sign morph into Cancer- $4, which redeemed him.
The next big event happened by the games. Sam knew that most of these things were scientifically rigged- there was no physical way for a crying child to pop 25 balloons with darts in thirty seconds. So when the younger Winchester noticed an incredibly ugly rainbow teddy bear had appeared mysteriously under Gabriel’s arm, he got suspicious.
“Gabriel…” Gabriel smiled guiltily at him and then kept walking. “Put it back.”
“No,” the archangel said petulantly. Sam was amazed at how often he acted like he was a human child. It was almost mind boggling that a being that had seen the creation of the universe could be so childish and immature. “I refuse.”
“Gabriel, that’s not the spirit of the games. Put it back and I’ll try to win it for you.” Why Sam offered this, he had literally no idea. The thing was an eyesore, with spotted rainbow fur, a baby blue bow, and a fuzzy pink stomach and paws. Gabriel huffed, snapped his fingers, and the bear vanished. Sam grinned at him and stepped up to the booth, which was a basketball game. The basketballs reminded him of the Herpexia commercial, and a snort from behind him signified that he wasn’t the only one.
“I have gen-”
“Gabriel, there are children here.” Gabriel chuckled, but he stopped, to Sam’s relief. The Winchester stepped up to the counter and paid, smiling and pointing to Gabe when the operator shot him an inquiring look. He got three shots. Three out of three meant a prize of his choice. The hideous bear sat there expectantly, and Sam could have sworn that it was watching him.
He had never played basketball in his life, but he figured that he was tall enough for it not to really be a problem. Sam dribbled the ball twice and shot. It flew across the “court” and rolled across the rim of the hoop, once, twice. He bit his lip. It wasn’t going to go in. But then a mysterious gust of wind pushed the ball neatly through the ring, and an obnoxious dinging noise sounded. The hunter didn’t look over at the source, but he could feel Gabriel smiling. He chuckled and was handed the next ball by a flabbergasted operator.
The next one was even farther off. But somehow, the same wind came, and the ball arched neatly to the right and sank into the hoop, touching only the net. People were starting to gather, and Sam’s cheeks were burning. This was embarrassing.
The third one was, thankfully enough, all him. But the wind still blew, this time in no particular direction, as if it was confused. And the dinging noise plagued their ears for the last time, and Sam pointed to the monstrosity sitting on the corner of the prize shelf. Gabriel smiled widely and hugged him, taking the bear and naming it something that sounded like a bunch of whistles and clicks disguising the word “Tuesday”.
“And that’s how the bear ended up on the shelf over there,” Sam argued. They were all sitting in the kitchen in the Bunker, Gabriel on the counter, eating a Twizzler, and Dean and Cas sitting at the table. Sam was standing, drinking a beer.
“I was not naming it Tuesday!” Gabriel protested, but he was smirking.
“You punched a homophobic clown?” Dean muttered. “Jesus.” Castiel looked confused.
“Say hello to my little friend?” he asked, tilting his head. “Who was the little friend?”
“Forget it, Cas,” Dean and Gabriel said at the same time, and then glared at each other.
“I say we burn the little shit. It’s an eyesore.”
“I say we burn you, Dean. You’re also an eyesore.”
“Gabriel, enough,” Sam said tiredly.
“Dean is not an eyesore. He is a noble man who has given his life many times in order to-”
“Cas, we talked about this.” Dean’s ears were red, and he looked away. Castiel nodded slowly.
“Dean, your homosexual is showing,” Gabriel sniggered. Sam’s eyes widened, and he dragged Gabriel off the table.
“Gabe. You are older than time, why do I have to babysit you?”
“Babysitter…?” Castiel inquired. “I know you two are together, but it’s barely been three hours-”
“Nah, that’s time enough. Come on, Sam.”
“Gabriel, if you take one more step, I’ll shoot you,” Dean snarled. “I barely just found out you were alive, you and Sam are not-”
“Gabe, come on, seriously ,” Sam begged. “Can we not antagonize my brother?”
“Is he staying?” Dean sounded hysterical. “I think I’m going to go insane if he stays.”
“I brought you pie,” Gabriel said off-handedly. “It’s in the fridge.”
“Where is it from?”
“That diner in Missouri that you really liked. Homemade apple.” Dean frowned.
“Apology in advance.” Sam coughed.
“What did you do?” Gabriel looked guilty.
“Dean, I’d suggest you don’t open your underwear drawer,” he said meekly. Dean’s eyes widened.
“You undo that right now-”
“I can’t. It’s got a mind of its own, I can’t control it anymore. It’s a living thing that’s outside of my jurisdiction.”
“Nothing is outside of your jurisdiction!”
“Just eat the pie and go to Target. Get some Mace and some new underwear, in case it gets out.” Dean was fuming. Sam sighed and dragged Gabriel off to have a talk about what to do at the bunker that prevented a full-on war, when there was a shriek from Dean’s room.
“Dean, the underwear is alive!” Gabriel paled.
Here is what makes me alive:
-Food and my computer
Naturally, the last one is the least important. So let's get the important shit done first!!