Sam woke up on another day, in another crappy motel room, in another town that wasn't home. By now, he wasn't even sure where home was. Dean was already up, taking a shower so they could go on another hunt and get rid of another spirit. Same old story. As adrenaline pumped as their lifestyle was, it eventually all blended into one big mess of static and noise. Always going, always hunting, never being able to sit down and breathe, much less consider having anything close to a normal life. The first cut had been a drunken attempt at suicide, when the alcohol wasn't enough to shut up the voices in his brain telling him that it was worthless, he was worthless, his family would've been better off had he never been born. The cuts that followed were to break through the numbness and see if he could still bleed. Dean hadn't noticed, he was dealing full time with his own demons, metaphorical and literal. Also, Sam had gone to great lengths to keep the cuts clean and hidden. He didn't need Dean worrying about him on top of everything else. As well as he tried to hide it, Sam could see his brother cracking under the pressure as well. He knew it was only a matter of time until something gave, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He was too tired for that.

Today's job was a simple salt and burn in a field. It took them twenty minutes. Just as they finished, the sky opened up and it started pouring. Dean cursed under his breath and headed for the car. Sam followed, as he always did, feeling a dull ache start up in his head and something like nausea churn in his empty stomach. He hadn't had much of an appetite lately, eating only enough to keep him from passing out. That would send Dean into protective older brother mode, and that was the last thing Sam wanted.

They got back to the Impala, threw their stuff in the trunk, and headed back to the motel. Dean muttered something about a hot shower, and Sam thought of the half bottle of whiskey he had in his bag. Lately, they both had been drinking way more than usual.

Dean headed straight for the bathroom when they got back. Sam waited until the door closed before changing into dry clothes and pulling out the bottle. He was just starting to feel buzzed when Dean came out of the shower. Sam ignored him and stared at the ceiling until Dean roughly grabbed his arm and yelled, "What the hell?!"

Sam jerked his arm away, an 'oh shit' feeling settling in his stomach. Dean grabbed his arm again. "What the hell did you do to yourself?!" He was yelling as loud as he could, shaking Sam's arm. "Are you trying to kill yourself? Answer me, god damn it!"

"No! Just leave me alone!" Sam tried unsuccessfully to pull his arm away, and Dean tightened his grip. Sam winced, he knew there would be bruises the next day. "God damn it Sam, what is going on with you?" He could tell Dean was close to tears, his face red and his breathing heavy. Seeing his brother this upset and knowing it was his fault sent a now familiar pain through his chest. "All I ever do is hurt you…" Sam said, pain evident in his voice.

Dean gasped like he had been punched in the stomach. "No, Sammy, no, no, no, no…"

Sam jerked his arm away and ran for the door. The last thing he heard before slamming the door behind him was Dean calling out in a strangled voice, "Sammy, please…"

Sam didn't know where he was going. He had no idea where he was. When he finally stopped running, he found himself in a forest. Leaning against a tree, he slid to the ground and let himself cry.

It was still pouring, so the faint sound of wings went unnoticed. A hand pushed the wet hair away from Sam's face. "You're a bit damp, kiddo."

Sam sighed. He wasn't sure why Gabriel was here, but he was betting that Dean had been desperate enough to call the archangel he hated for the sake of his brother. As if reading his mind, which he probably was, Gabriel spoke up. "Your brother called me and asked me to find you. He sounded pretty upset. I figured if he was worried enough to call me, I should probably see what's going on, because last I checked, he hated me." Sam could hear the smirk in his voice. The archangel crouched down in front of him. "So, Sammy boy, wanna tell me what's going on?"

Sam shook his head. He didn't feel like talking, and anyway, he didn't trust his voice right now. Gabriel seemed to sense that Sam wasn't in the mood to talk and sighed. "We might as well get out of the rain." He pressed two fingers to Sam's wet forehead and the rainy forest disappeared.

Sam looked around the room they had appeared in. It was a bedroom with two huge beds, a table, and a giant window facing the ocean. He realized his clothes were dry. "Where are we?"

"Bora Bora." The archangel smirked. Sam stared at him. "Why the hell are we in Bora Bora?"

"Is there somewhere else you'd rather be?"

Ignoring the question, Sam repeated, "Why are we here?"

"Think of it as your own personal rehab."

"Take me back."

"No can do, kiddo. You're at least staying until you're sober."

Sam flopped back onto the bed he was sitting on and sighed. Gabriel sat beside him and smoothed his hair back. Sam tried weakly to pull away, but Gabriel held him in place. Sam gave up, letting the archangel stroke his hair. His touch was soothing. "So, are you gonna talk to me?"

Sam didn't answer. Gabriel sighed. "I already know what's going on."

He reached out and pulled Sam's arm way from his body. Sam didn't resist. Gabriel just looked at his wrist for a few moments before sighing again. The room was quiet.

Sam wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, Gabriel running his fingers through Sam's hair and Sam staring at the ceiling. The angel was the one to break the silence. "I can be nice. I'm not always playing pranks and causing chaos, although it is fun. I do have a soft side." His tone was light. Sam muttered, "Get out of my head."

Gabriel laughed softly, and silence fell again. A couple more minutes passed and he said, "That's not the only way to make sure you can still feel."

Sam didn't respond, but Gabriel knew he was listening. "You aren't invincible. Even you and your brother need breaks sometimes. Eventually you're gonna crack, and it won't be pretty. You gotta be smart, Sammy." He tapped Sam's forehead. "Take care of yourself."

Sam nodded, and Gabriel resumed the hair stroking. "I know you won't ask for help, but I'm gonna keep an eye on you. Believe it or not, Sammy, I actually do care about you."

For the first time since Gabriel had found him in the forest, Sam looked up and met his eyes. The archangel smiled sadly at him. "You think you're ready to go back?"

"Yeah." It was the first word Sam had spoken aloud since they had gotten here. Gabriel gave him one last smile and pressed two fingers to his forehead. Sam blinked and found that he was back in the motel room, on his bed. He looked over at Dean's bed to see his brother curled up, asleep, and Castiel sitting beside him on the bed. The small angel looked up and met his eyes. "Thank you. You know, for taking care of him." Sam whispered. Cas nodded at him.

Sam rolled over and heard a loud crinkling. He pushed his hands into his pocket and pulled out a handful of candy. He laughed to himself as he put the candy on the floor and curled up under the blanket. "Thanks, Gabe." He whispered, and closed his eyes to sleep.