Sam's whole world starts with the floor.
Cold ground, the steady prickle of grit on his cheek and the roll-swing of black candles in front of his face.
That should be important, he's sure it should be important.
Everything is very floaty.
Shouting voices come closer, and those he knows, Dean, Dean who he's always, always known, since the very beginning. And Castiel, the blue-eyed angel.
His brother and the angel.
He's pretty sure one loves the other, but he can't remember which.
"Who loves who," he mumbles into the ground.
Dean's talking, but it's garbled word salad in a fog. Sam can't make out a word of it.
He tries to roll his head on the floor and finds Dean. Who's close and vast and frowning in a way that looks bad for him, or maybe bad for Sam, he can't remember. It's probably important. But it's just not there.
Sam's face is itchy, he rubs it against the floor, and that's a nice sensation, almost too nice, scratch-shift, scratch-shift, prickly and liquid.
"Dean," Sam agrees, because that seems sensible.
Dean's talking again. Every fourth word makes it through the fog, making the flow of the sentence broken and meaningless, something about magic and witches and faces, Sam's not sure whose faces.
But Dean is good in a crisis, so Sam leaves it to him to sort it all out.
He agrees, or maybe he just thinks he does.
He's still agreeing when Castiel and Dean eventually manage to get him upright and Sam never realised how far he was away from the floor before now.
Dean and Castiel are steering him towards the car.
That's it, the car. They have to get to the car.
Dean loves the car. He loves it so much he'd probably have sex with it.
Dean says something loud and messy to that. Sam laughs and then thumps into Castiel when his feet decide not to obey him. But Castiel doesn't seem to mind. Castiel's probably more concerned with the way the world is currently wobbling backwards and forwards.
The car, they're going to the car.
It is a nice car, it does make you think of sex.
Bendy and enthusiastic sex that's overwhelming and a little bit intense. Sex that leaves you exhausted and breathless and messy, with bruises in interesting places.
The sort of sex Sam has discovered that Gabriel is very, very good at.
Sam slithers sideways and Castiel catches him before he hits the floor.
Castiel is much stronger than he looks. But still kind of small. Sam ends up slumped over him in a way which he finds hilarious.
But then suddenly Dean is asking very serious questions. Sam still kind of doesn't understand them. He has all the words but he doesn't think they're in the right order.
Dean's all angry and swirly; demanding to know something and Castiel looks all worried and huge and blue.
Everyone sounds very serious, so Sam tries to concentrate.
"When you have an angel and they're right there, you could, so you can, so you do," he explains seriously.
Which makes perfect sense to him.
Dean makes a noise which doesn't sound like it agrees. Sam worries that he's speaking another language, that the witches have stolen his tongue and made it wrong.
Or maybe he's just not explaining properly.
Dean slides under his arm again and it's so much better when Sam has two people to hang on to.
He tells Dean that he thinks maybe he loves Gabriel a little bit.
Dean stumbles to a halt and Sam's forced to try and hold onto something again. Which is briefly confusing because everyone is very close but his arms don't seem to work.
He tries to hold onto something with his mind and then realises he can't do that any more.
And probably couldn't when he could.
He explains that it happened completely by accident, he never meant to. Because Gabriel can be kind of mean and he thinks Sam's stupid and he's always disappearing.
But he's funny and he knows everything and Sam likes the way he can do things with his hands and he always stays for the parts Ruby didn't like much. He likes when Gabriel shows up more than when he doesn't. Also, he always tastes like candy.
He's kind of sad sometimes, which is wrong, and Sam likes the way he can make that not quite so true.
He tells them all of that, though it probably comes out all wrong.
Dean very carefully lets Castiel take all of Sam's weight again when he opens the car.
"I like him," Sam mumbles into Castiel's ear.
Castiel murmurs something back, something deep and lyrical and soft. Though Sam doesn't understand a word of it.
Then he squeezes Sam's waist ever so gently.
Sam kind of likes Castiel too.