Part 9 of my never-ending angst-fest Post-Asmodeus Sabriel Feels.

Originally written for someone on Archive of Our Own. She requested a story centered around the theme of self-harm.

Find me on Tumblr, where I often post first, and where I give updates on my awkward life. .com

WARNING: This story contains a brief reference to sexual assault.

It was becoming a little easier to venture outside. Becoming a little easier to accept the reassurances he kept getting from Sam, Dean, and Castiel that if he stepped into the open air, he wouldn't be in any more danger than they would.

Not that that was saying a whole lot, because the Winchesters were the Winchesters.

Still, Gabriel would take what he could get. He wasn't exactly prepared to deal with what was routine for them, but it was better than remaining convinced he'd be targeted.

Besides, it was nice to at least imagine that he was moving forward. Gabriel figured he wasn't too annoying as long as he was making even a half-hearted attempt to be less … what he currently was.

Typically it was Sam who offered to take him out for a meal, or coffee, or whatever Gabriel was up for (usually just coffee. Eating wasn't his favorite pastime after being force-fed miscellaneous substances, including his own viscera, for over eight centuries). But Castiel, too, was overwhelmingly thoughtful after too many years as a default Winchester, and even Dean had softened since Gabriel was rescued from Asmodeus.

His forays with Dean were the most challenging. Gabriel liked him, but talking with Dean was like talking to pieces of himself that were long dead: raucously hedonistic inclinations, a little bit of a temper, enough snark to burn down a small village. Now, after his escape, Gabriel was afraid of what he'd once carelessly pursued. Sex reminded him too much of his most degrading moments in Hell, and alcohol threatened to lower his defenses. Becoming openly angry or defiant was liable to get him punished, and he had the sense that his wit - if not totally eradicated - had been blunted.

Really, Sam was the easiest. He was less reserved than Castiel but more tactful than Dean. He didn't forget to ask if Gabriel was okay with being touched. He didn't push too hard for Gabriel to eat, even though they were both well aware that food and sleep could help Gabriel get his grace back more quickly after all those years of having it torn out.

But more important than Sam's caution and understanding was his patience.

There had been so many nightmares. So many moments of panic. So many flashbacks powerful enough to shove Gabriel into a corner, curled up and hyperventilating even as Sam tried to coax him back into the present. And more times than he could count, Gabriel had become so trapped in memory that he'd made himself sick - losing consciousness or throwing up so forcefully he couldn't stand without assistance.

Assistance that usually came from Sam.

So, unsurprisingly, Gabriel had developed a decided preference for Sam.

But that afternoon, it was Dean who took him out for coffee.

The morning had been cold and rainy, and the bunker was still littered with wet footprints. Now, however, the sky was clear and the temperature mild.

In a strange way, calm weather disconcerted Gabriel after all his time in Hell. The tenderness of early spring made his rescue seem less real. While the bunker was comfortable, it was also closer to what he was used to - and therefore less likely to be taken away. Less likely to remind him of him of what had come before, to taunt him with the specter of who he used to be.

"I hope the coffee helped you feel a little more alive," Dean said as they shut the door to the bunker and began descending the stairs. "Heard you walking around sometime between when bars close and when triathlon contestants start drinking their eggs."

"Sorry if I woke you up," Gabriel replied, avoiding the subject of his almost complete inability to rest when the world was quiet.

"Hey, not a single person in this bunker is out before 2:00 A.M. And frankly, even if you did wake us up, it's only because we're used to paying attention to every little - oh shit, Gabriel!"

With a cry of shock, Gabriel slipped in a puddle on one of the stairs and plummeted down the remaining steps, smacking his face on the floor when he landed. He had a split second to feel sour over the fact that he couldn't heal himself before he heard Dean scurry the rest of the way down. Then Gabriel was hauled to his feet.

"You okay?" Dean demanded, inspecting him for injuries. "Crap, we should've dried the stairs, man, I'm sorry."

Gabriel shook his head, pulling away. "It's all right."

"No it's not; you're shaking like someone just pointed a gun at you. Are you hurt?" He reached out and, before Gabriel could protest, lifted the hair that had fallen into Gabriel's eyes to examine where he'd rammed himself into the floor.

Gabriel stepped back. "No, I - I'm not hurt. I didn't really hit the floor that hard. Probably looked worse than it felt."

He wished Dean would stop worrying over him. It was nothing like the Dean he knew, and Gabriel certainly didn't want to look as fragile as he did when he was with Sam.

One receptacle for his neurosis was degrading enough.

"Please," he said to Dean, "Don't touch me again."

"Oh - " Dean looked uncomfortable. "That's right, I forgot about - "

"Not your fault." Gabriel cleared his throat, trying to strengthen his voice.

"It's all fine. Aaaaalllll fine. I'm fine. I'm a hundred percent. Not made of glass. Besides, I've had worse."

Dean hesitated. "I know how little things can set you off, so …"

Gabriel cringed. "Don't say it like that."

"All right, all right. I just wanted to make sure. Glad everything's okay."

There were a few moments of silence. Then Gabriel said, "I'm gonna hang out for a little while. In my room. I'm tired. But uh, thanks for the coffee."

"Sure thing." He clapped Gabriel on the shoulder.

"Dean - "

"Sorry, sorry! I don't know why I can't get that through my head. I'll see you later."

When he left, Gabriel turned towards the room in which he'd been staying over the past several months.

But there was a weight inside of him that made it hard to move, made him feel as though he'd gained several pounds over the last five minutes.

Made him feel as though he were taking up space that wasn't rightfully his.

He wrapped his arms around his abdomen, trying to shrink himself. He shouldn't be here. Not in the bunker. Not anywhere.

Gabriel sat down on the bottom step, suddenly too heavy and sick to move. He knew he should at least head into the bathroom if he was going to throw up. But he couldn't bring himself to get to his feet.

He wasn't sure how much time passed before footsteps interrupted the silence. Alarmed, Gabriel jerked his head up.

"Hey Uncle Gabriel," chirped Jack.

Gabriel's shoulders loosened and he gave an uncertain but sincere smile. "If it isn't my favorite nephew."

Jack looked wary. "How many nephews do you have?"

Gabriel thought about leading him on, asking why Sam and Dean hadn't told him about the renegade nephilim living in the storage room, but decided that would have been borderline cruel. "It's just something people say. You're my favorite specifically because I have no other options."

Jack looked hurt. "What if you did have other options?"

"Don't worry about that, kiddo. I'm pretty sure you'd still be at the top of the list."

Jack peered more closely at him. "Are you okay? Dean said you fell. And now you're not moving."

"Oh, he told you about that, huh?" How long had Gabriel been sitting there? "I'm just taking my time."

"Why? Do you need help getting up?"

"I'll be tip-top in a few minutes. I was startled is all. You ever fallen down a flight of stairs, Jack?"

"Once, but Castiel caught me."

"Yeah, my brother can be all right sometimes."

"I like him. I've always liked him. He's my family, you know."

"I could tell by the way he looks at you. And by the way he talks about you like a mom parading around her kid's Ivy League acceptance letter. You two are a good match."

Jack smiled with something like pride. "You really think so?"

"Sure. Your compassion, your courage, your social awk - your social curiosity; it's all pleasant to watch."

"Well, you know what it feels like, don't you?"

Gabriel frowned. "I know what what feels like?"

"Family."

Gabriel blinked. "Is this a trick question?"

Jack looked puzzled. "Wouldn't you consider us family?"

Gabriel's stomach went cold. "I, uh … I try not to."

"What? But why not? Not even Sam?"

Gabriel shut his eyes, ran a hand through his hair. "Listen kid, if it's all the same to you, I'd rather not get into this."

"Oh. But I … well, all right. I think I understand."

Neither of them spoke for some time, and Gabriel started to wonder why

Jack wouldn't take the hint to leave.

Instead, Jack kept going. "One day Castiel told me I looked pale."

Gabriel looked up. "And did he take you out to get some sun? Dad knows you could use it."

"No, he thought I was ill. He told me that being pale is a sign you're getting sick. You look pale. Are you getting sick?"

Maybe now was the time to be direct about wanting solitude.

But Gabriel simply replied, "No."

"Do you want me to get Sam?"

It was the wrong thing to ask.

"Uncle Gabriel?"

Gabriel lowered his face back to his lap.

Jack moved nearer, studying him. "What's wrong? What did I say?"

Gabriel just shook his head, pressing both hands to his face..

"It's okay, Uncle Gabriel." Jack sounded slightly panicked now. "I'm going to find Sam. Wait here."

Gabriel didn't have the strength - or the dignity - to protest.

A few minutes later - Gabriel was still having trouble keeping track of time - two pairs of footsteps drew near, and he looked up because he didn't want to be surprised by somebody touching him.

Jack had followed Sam to the foot of the stairs, looking unsure.

"I got him, Jack," said Sam. "Thanks for letting me know."

Jack glanced at Gabriel. "Can I do anything? Uncle Gabriel, what would help you? I've never seen you cry before."

"I'm gonna take care of him," Sam said. "Don't worry, all right?"

Jack stood there, helpless. "It's my fault. I was talking to him and he - "

"No it's not. I promise." When Jack appeared unconvinced, Sam added,

"Trust me, Jack, you did nothing wrong. Go ahead and relax for a while. I'll give you an update later, all right?"

Jack hesitated, but then offered a reluctant nod. "Thank you, Sam. I hope you feel better, Uncle Gabriel."

After Jack made his exit, Sam sat on the step beside Gabriel. "Hey."

"Hey," Gabriel muttered.

Sam folded his hands around his knees. "So, uh … is this because you fell down the stairs?"

"Of course not." Gabriel swiped at his face. "That had nothing to do with anything."

"Then what?"

"Something stupid. I know, I'm shocked too."

"Whatever happened, it wasn't stupid."

"No, it was. I was fine like half an hour ago. And then …" But he paused, afraid to tell the truth.

"Yeah?"

Gabriel bit his lip. "Your brother. He was …"

"Oh crap. What'd he do this time?"

"Nothing! I mean he didn't - he didn't realize what he was doing. If I were normal it wouldn't have been a problem at all."

"Huh. Yeah, he can actually get pretty touchy-feely when it suits him. I'll tell him not to - "

"It wasn't that. I wasn't scared of him touching me."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "That's new."

"Well, ever since he freaked out and I …" Gabriel bit his lip. "Anyway, he's been a superstar since then."

Sam knew what Gabriel was referring to. A couple of months back, Dean had exploded into a fit of temper brought on by sleep deprivation and a difficult case. Gabriel was terrified, and Dean had regretted his actions so much that he'd been going out of his way to help Gabriel feel less threatened.

"Then what?" Sam pressed.

Gabriel lowered his head again. "He was scared I'd been hurt. He looked me over and got all flustered and I - I just don't want - "

Understanding dawned on Sam's face. "Because you still believe you don't deserve anyone being nice to you."

Gabriel jerked back up. "It's not a matter of belief, all right? Come on, you know that. Somewhere in your mind, you know that. I keep telling you and wondering how the hell you got into a school like Stanford. Either you're stupid or stubborn, Sam, and I know it's not the first."

Sam cast him a knowing look. "I'm not as stubborn as you are. No one agrees with you about this. Especially not me."

"Yeah, because Dad didn't screw your head on straight. I've already told you, your tolerance is so wrong it's almost offensive. I've said that again, and again, and again. And now I've got both my brother and yours mimicking your completely useless altruism. When it stops - "

"It won't, though."

"When it stops, I'm gonna wish I was back with Asmodeus."

Sam tensed. "Don't say things like that."

"It's the truth, and if you can't handle it - well, then all the more reason to get rid of me. Besides, I told you, Sam, I can't just push myself back into the real world. Much as I want to. If I had even a fingernail's worth of common sense, I would've been gone months ago. But you've got me stuck here with your Mr. Rogers routine. And what does that do for me, huh? It's like - it's like going to the spa before someone throws acid on your face and snaps your spine."

Sam closed his eyes, and Gabriel could see that he was frustrated. "I don't know how to make you see this the right way."

"I don't know how to make you see this the right way."

"Gabriel, you think I'm doing too much but I don't think I'm doing enough!" Sam was definitely irritated now. "Not if you're still caught up in this idea that we shouldn't be doing anything at all! Why are you so committed to thinking no one wants you in the bunker? If we didn't, we'd have made arrangements for you to leave. Look" - he gestured around the room - "there's too much space in here anyhow. Especially since the refugees left to fight back in their universe. Anyway, you're good company. We all like you."

Gabriel sprang to his feet. "That's the problem! You know that's the problem! That's why I don't want you to help me when I get hurt, or when I have a nightmare, or - son of a bitch, how many times do I have to - Sam, it's not worth it for you, for any of you, and it's just making things harder for me. It makes me more afraid! More afraid of what'll happen when you - "

"Gabriel," Sam interjected, his features softening, "Please let me - "

"No! I don't understand you! I don't understand any of you! I don't want it, Sam, so please just stop!"

"No," Sam replied calmly.

Gabriel flushed with rage. "All I do is -"

"We've been through this before. I'm just gonna say the same stuff."

"For your own sake, you need to let this go! This is time I'm taking away from your life, Sam! You've had to skip hunts because of me and that's not - "

"I never had to," Sam corrected, "I still went when Cas couldn't take my place."

"You should be going on every single one, every time your brother needs you. Every time, Sam! Not just when it's convenient for me! I'm screwing with your life, with all of your lives, demanding everything of you when I spent centuries locked away, completely incapable of getting out, or fighting back, or being okay when I finally escaped." Gabriel's voice began to quiver. "Don't you see? If I'm good for nothing, if I can't even save myself, if I did something bad enough to land in there and then have him - have him do what he did, then you shouldn't be taking care of me! Dean should have pushed me down those stairs! I don't want any of you trying to help, not anymore. I want you to do what's right! I want you to get it over with! I want you to do what you should've done the second I got here!" He took a step towards Sam. "I'll lie down on the floor right now and let you do whatever you want to me. I'll freakin' hand you that archangel blade. I'll brew whatever poison you want, however many times you want. But I'm done with having you treat me like I'm worth anything to you. Like I'm worth anything at all."

Sam stared up at him in shock. "Gabriel, why would you - "

"Because I hate lies! And you make it so tempting to lie to myself. To get comfortable with your spiel about how much you care. That's dangerous territory, Sam. And I want out before I step on a landmine."

"Gabriel, please - "

"Shut up, Sam!"

"You need to - "

Gabriel threw himself back down on the step, then seized Sam's wrists and maneuvered them until both hands were settled on either of Gabriel's shoulders. "Do it. Hurt me."

Sam's eyes widened.

"Do it," Gabriel repeated.

Sam shook his head but didn't remove his hands.

Gabriel held his gaze, not blinking, not breathing.

"You know what - " Gabriel tore himself away. "Would it be easier for you if I got you started? Huh? Where's that archangel blade, Sam? Where'd you and your brother stash it away? Whatever blood you want, whatever grace you want - "

"Gabriel, no!"

"Well then I'll find it!"

Sam grabbed him by the shoulders once more, but this time his grip was firm. "What do you want to do to yourself?"

"Oh, I don't want to do anything to myself. I want you to do it. But since you're not going to, then - "

Sam wrenched Gabriel to his feet. "Come with me right now."

Gabriel was too startled to react. Sam half-dragged him down the hall until they'd reached Sam's bedroom.

Sam pushed Gabriel inside with more violence, more anger, than Gabriel had ever seen him express.

Gabriel felt sick with fear as he realized that this was exactly what he had been trying to persuade Sam to do.

But he had no right to be afraid.

Sam slammed the door shut. "Sit on the bed."

Gabriel froze.

"I said sit down, Gabriel!"

Gabriel complied, keeping his eyes on Sam all the while. His breathing was tight and shallow.

Sam towered over him. "You've told me you want to suffer about a hundred times, and this never came up. Not even once. You've got a lot of explaining to do."

Gabriel shivered. "Didn't I just explain everything?"

"No. No, Gabriel, you didn't. What you told me is that you're so set on getting what you think you deserve that you're willing to - to do whatever it is you're planning on doing."

"I'm not planning anything. I'm just sick of waiting."

Sam's face contorted with fury. "You know what? I'd rather you drive yourself insane waiting for the other shoe to drop than lay a finger on the archangel blade! You've said a lot of things, Gabriel. A lot of completely pointless things. You know what you're doing? You're - you're living in a world of fiction. Where you've been written as the bad guy. And yeah, okay, you're upset because I've been patient. But now? You don't have to be upset anymore. Because I'm out of patience."

Gabriel looked up at Sam, whose head blocked the glow of the overhead light, whose nostrils were flared, whose eyes had grown bright and still.

And for the first time - the first time ever - Sam made Gabriel feel threatened.

There was a ringing in his ears, a blackness in his mind, the sensation of falling.

He'd pushed and pushed for exactly this, and yet it was like being thrown into one of his bad dreams. It was like shrinking down to something small and slimy and clumsy, something that could be crushed underfoot until its guts were thick upon the ground.

Until it stopped squirming for a life that had never mattered.

Gabriel knew he deserved this, but he didn't have to like it.

And then, dimly, as if through paper-thin walls, he caught Sam's voice.

"Oh god, Gabriel, oh my god …"

He felt Sam's hands on him and flinched away, prepared for agony but not ready, never ready.

"Gabriel? Look up, please look up."

No. He couldn't. He could take the pain, but he wasn't going to look up.

Feeling what was about to happen was one thing; watching it was quite another.

"Gabriel, I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I just don't want you to do anything to yourself. Gabriel, please look up."

No. Because he'd get more pain if Sam saw that he was crying.

"Gabriel, it's just me. I won't do anything to you. I wasn't going to, I promise. Come here."

He pulled Gabriel against him, holding gently. Gabriel shook so hard his muscles began to ache.

"No," he croaked into Sam's chest. "No."

"I'm sorry," Sam whispered.

"No," Gabriel repeated in a strangled, high-pitched voice.

"I'm sorry, Gabriel; I scared the crap out of you. Oh god, I wasn't thinking. It's just that - what you told me - "

Gabriel moaned.

"It's okay now; it's okay. Oh my god, I'm so sorry."

Gabriel could hear Sam's heartbeat.

"It's okay, Gabriel. Everything's okay. Oh my god."

Gabriel let himself tremble, let all the thoughts of terror and memories of Hell flood his mind.

"Sam," he choked. "Sam, I - "

Sam hugged him more tightly. "I'm not mad at you. I'm not mad. I made a huge mistake. I just didn't know what to do, that's all. It's okay; everything's okay."

"Sam!" Gabriel squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm going to be sick."

"Okay. It's okay. Come on." He lifted Gabriel to his feet and helped him kneel in front of the wastebasket. "God, Gabe, this is my fault. I didn't think. You should be throwing up on me."

Gabriel retched before he could answer, glad Sam wasn't touching him anymore, and heaved the coffee from his one-on-one time with Dean into the wastebasket. The image of Sam's rage was too powerful for Gabriel to get control of himself, so that he threw up until he was dizzy and his throat hurt.

"All right, easy," Sam said quietly. "It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you. No one's gonna hurt you. It's all over, Gabriel. I'm not mad, not even a little. I was just scared."

Gabriel dry-heaved over the wastebasket for several minutes.

"Oh god, Gabriel," Sam whispered.

Gabriel spat, breathing hard, still shivering.

"Can I help you back to the bed?" asked Sam.

Gabriel shook his head. "Let me stay here."

"What do you need?"

Hesitantly, Gabriel turned around to look at him. "I - I need you never to do that again."

Sam had had every right. Sam had made a mistake by not doing anything to harm him.

But it was too much.

Sam looked pained. "Of course not. Like I said, I … I just went a little overboard. I would never do anything like what he did. I shouldn't have made you feel like you weren't safe." He paused. "Are you scared of me?"

Gabriel looked at him, read the fear and remorse in his eyes, studied the fine lines of his face. "I don't know."

"What can I do? Should I …" Sam gestured to the door.

"No, don't leave." Gabriel felt his throat close up again. "I'm not afraid. But I'm not … I can't get it out of my head; I … you looked like you were going to …"

"I know. I know. Oh - " Sam suddenly extended a hand and Gabriel jerked backwards. "No no no, hey, I'm not gonna do anything. I'm not gonna touch you unless you say I can. But Gabriel, do you remember when you first got here?"

Gabriel swallowed, still tasting bile. "Too well."

"You let me hold your hand."

"Yeah, my pride was in the same state as your trash liner."

"But it showed you that I just wanted to help. It showed you that you were out of there. That you were with us." He locked eyes with Gabriel. "And that I wasn't him."

Gabriel glanced down at Sam's hand and thought about the moment Sam was referring to - a moment in which the certainty of being tortured had become cloudy, in which he had recognized Sam's touch as one that might not leave bloodstains.

Instead of reaching for Sam's hand, Gabriel collapsed against him, limp with exhaustion.

Immediately, instinctively, Sam enveloped him. "Listen … Gabe, do you know why I got so …"

"Yeah. Yes. I do. I didn't mean to rattle you up that bad."

"No, no, I'm the one who threw a fit. Besides, I'm glad you told me; it's just - I don't love the idea of you going off to look for the archangel blade. Or doing something else if you can't find it."

Gabriel closed his eyes.

"Gabriel?" Sam pleaded. "What are you thinking right now?"

"I'm thinking I was right. I was right that you shouldn't be helping me like this." Gabriel returned the embrace. "But I'm also thinking that I was wrong about actually wanting you to. Push comes to shove, I'd prefer this. I just don't think I should have it."

Sam held tighter. "Right, well, that doesn't matter. Just relax if you can. Do you feel better? You're not shaking as much."

"I'm tired."

"I know." Sam hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "Hey, Gabe, I need to ask you something. Have you done … anything … before now? Something I didn't see? Something you never let us know about?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Let's keep it that way, yeah?"

"Mm."

"If you ever - "

"I'll tell you."

"And I won't react like I did just now. Count on that, all right?"

Too worn down to speak, Gabriel nodded. His entire body hurt from shaking, and yet he couldn't quite stop.

But he managed to mumble, "I want you to help. It bothers me that I want it. I don't think I'm supposed to want anything."

"We all want things."

"I hate that word."

"'Want'? How come?"

"Because when things were so bad that I was reduced to a screaming, sobbing puddle for Asmodeus to splash around in, I'd get pretty straightforward. I'd tell him I wanted to go home, even though I wasn't sure where that would be. I'd say I wanted him to stop. And then I'd start ranting about how I wanted my brothers and sisters, or my father. And the more I did that - the more I told him what I wanted - the more he hurt me."

Sam let that sink in. "You can want something from me."

There was a knock at the door, and Sam gently let go of Gabriel to go see who was there.

Jack stood in the doorway, looking lost.

"Hey kid," said Gabriel.

"Hi." Jack took a tentative step into the room. "I wanted to check on you."

"Thanks. It was good of you to grab Sam here. He knows how to handle me at my worst."

"I like Sam too. Here, I brought you something."

Jack came closer, fishing around in his jeans pocket. "Dean told me you used to like M&Ms."

Gabriel blinked at him, then accepted the little packet of candy. "How did he remember that?"

"He said sugar was your only food group."

"Once upon a time," Gabriel acknowledged. "Where did you find them?"

"I told Dean you were upset, and that I wanted to do something to help. So he took me to the store."

Gabriel shook his head in disbelief. "That's so sweet I almost forgot to be embarrassed about you telling Dean how much of a mess I am."

"It's okay," Jack replied solemnly, "I think he already knows."

Sam smothered a smile.

"Plus," Jack added, "Candy makes me feel better too."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Jack's face suddenly lit up. "We should watch that movie together! The one about the golden tickets! I've never seen it but you guys have the DVD."

"We could do that," Gabriel agreed.

"Would you like to do it today?"

"Um. Yeah, sure, why not?"

"Great! Is there anything else you need?"

"Little man, this is more than enough."

Jack gave a relieved smile. "Okay. I'm glad I could help. I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings earlier."

"Those aren't the rules of this game, Jack. Just because you're in the same room as someone whose appendix bursts, doesn't mean you were the one to inflame it."

Jack threw a look of alarm at Sam, who assured him, "No one actually had their appendix burst."

"Go find the DVD," Gabriel said. "We can watch it."

Jack turned to Sam. "You should come too!"

Sam shrugged. "I guess I haven't seen it in a while. Gabriel, what's your preference?"

"Please come," Gabriel muttered out of the corner of his mouth. "There's some scary shit in that movie."

"I'll wait for you guys, okay?" said Jack.

"We'll be there in a couple minutes," Gabriel replied, "And you can have as many M&Ms as you want."

Jack grinned. "Those are for you!"

As they watched him shuffle back down the hall, Sam raised his eyebrows. "You know who'd be really messed up if you did anything to hurt yourself - "

"Yeah, yeah." Gabriel threw Sam a dirty look. "And I know exactly where he learned that stranded-kitten face."

"Oh yeah? Because you'd be surprised at what Cas can pull off."

"Would I though? I've known him for a lot longer than I've known you and he definitely gets the silver medal."

Sam gestured to the packet in Gabriel's hand. "At least now you have a reason to eat."

"Maybe. You know, if you eat them then I can make Jack think it was me."

"What was it you were saying about how you don't like to lie?"

"Well I don't mind lying when it's necessary."

Sam smiled, although it didn't reach his eyes. "You don't seem to love telling the truth when it's necessary either."

Gabriel pushed himself to his feet. "Can we take a break from therapy to go watch the Candy Man violate OSHA?"

"Yeah, sure; I'll catch up with you in a minute, okay? Go teach Jack how to set up a DVD player."

Sam waited for Gabriel to turn the corner before pulling his cell phone from his pocket and texting Dean.

Double-check the wards on the archangel blade. Make sure nothing's missing.

Only after that did he leave his room to enjoy the movie.