And oh yeah here's the longer one.

I should probably note that "long" for me is, well, not very.

This will be a series. I don't know how long. I'm thinking, three, maybe four chapters. I've got plans for three, anyway. Actually meant to have all of them written before publishing, but got tired of looking at this chapter. Let's give it up for author disillusionment, ladies and gentlemen.

Spoilers up to 9x09. Set a bit after 9x01.

It took Sam Winchester exactly one week to learn of Gadreel's presence the first time.

The incident was largely Gadreel's own doing. His goal was not, as Dean thought, to heal, but to hide in Sam Winchester as long as it took for him to heal. Get accustomed to all this...newness. After all, he had never seen much change during the eons spent in his prison. The guards, the only other angels he ever saw, changed every few centuries. The news they sometimes brought, that changed. Often out of date, true, but Gadreel never minded. He took what he could get.

So he knew, more or less, about the Apocalypse. How Lucifer had risen and Micheal planned to take his Sword for the first time since striking down his brother the first time to repeat history and do it again. How the Boy with the Demon Blood (this boy, the one he was in now) was to be the vessel of Lucifer, his brother Micheal's. How the two sides were set to fight a war that would rend the planet in two but ultimately failed because of a renegade angel, an old man, and two vessels that said no.

Gadreel didn't get much news after that. The guards' hours became more irregular, and they rarely talked about. All Gadreel could gather was that something had happened in Heaven, and the guards were furious. And scared.

Which led to Gadreel's mistake. He had chosen Winchester as a safe house because the little he knew of the brothers said angels did not like to mix company with them. As long as nobody went looking for him and the Winchesters stayed away from angels, he was safe. And for the most part he kept quiet, hid his Grace from Sam's attention and only healed him when Gadreel was sure he was asleep. But every once in awhile a thought would float towards him, a stray memory. Enough to remind Gadreel that if he wanted to learn what happened after the Apocalypse, Sam's memories would be a good place to start.

And so, on that seventh night, when Sam had long since fallen asleep, when his curiosity could not wait any longer, Gadreel took a risk and stepped into Sam's mind.

"What the hell?"

Gadreel blinked as the barrel of a handgun was shoved square between his eyes. The gun held steady (from sheer habit, a passing thought told him, formed from years of a drill sergeant father and a need to make his brother proud and keep him safe and stay alive and-), but the man holding it, judging by his face and the stream of consciousness radiating from him, was not.

"Dude, chill the fuck out. It's just you," said another man. Dean, Gadreel recognized. He was leaning against the side of their car (the Impala, the stream insisted) with a beer in his hand and a mildly confused look on his face. Around them were corn fields and a road that stretched on forever. A dream, obviously. He had stumbled onto a dream.

"No, it's not me," Sam insisted, never taking his eyes off. "There was a, a flash, something, it was just like-" he cut himself off, but his consciousness continued. Just like Lucifer, when he was in my head. No, I got away from him. Dean got me out. This can't be happening no-

"Sam," Gadreel cut in. "This is not what you thin-"

"Just shut up!" Sam yelled. He shoved the gun further in his face.

"Woah woah woah, take it easy Sammy," Dean said, standing from the Impala to get nearer to his brother. He kept his hands raised, carefully (slowly) reaching for the gun to take it away from him. "You're sounding like when you were cuckoo crazy with Lucifer vision."

Sam backed away from his brother, just enough to be out of reach. The hand holding the gun had a slight tremor, one that Sam probably didn't even notice. "No, when he, when he showed up, there was a flash of light, and for a second I, I saw an angel's true face. That's what happened when Lucifer talked to me in my head, thats the only time I ever saw anything like it. I don't even dream about it. Which means that this is in my head, and Dean, you're not real, and you," he straightened his grip on the gun pointed at Gadreel's head. "I don't know how you got here, but get out or I will rip your wings out."

"Sam, there is no cause for concern. I am not here to harm you."

"Yeah? Nice try. Get out of my head. You're an angel. You need my consent and you don't have it."

"It was Dean that let me in, when you were in a coma. You are not well Sam. I am trying to help you.

"What?" Finally, the gun faltered. Just for a second, but that was all Gadreel needed. He closed the distance between them and put his finger tips to Sam's forehead. Sam's eyes rolled to the back of his head and he collapsed, disappearing before he even hit the road. The entire scene melted away with him to reveal an entirely different landscape.

Gadreel found himself in a corridor, the walls and floor built from a mass of colored webs intertwined and pulsing. The fabric of Sam's mind, built of memories and neurons and demon blood. Gadreel did not take long to study it. Where Sam had stood just moment's prior, a small ball of webs was beginning to form. A memory of what had just happened. He knelt down and touched the mass with two fingers. The memory flashed through his head. He saw the beginning of the dream, the brothers chasing something in their car. They took a break to refuel and have a beer. A flash of light blinded Sam, and when he opened his eyes again Gadreel saw himself in Sam's form, but just before the scene cleared he also saw a glimpse of his true face, his angel form.

That was what Sam had seen that had rattled him. An angel's face. If Gadreel wanted he could follow the web to the memories associated that caused the strong reaction. But now was not the time for that. He would need to be more careful, he thought as he erased the memory completely. It was hard enough keeping Dean from revealing his position; he hardly needed a spooked vessel making his life any more difficult.

Once the deed was done, he stepped back to his hiding place. San would no doubt wake soon. Gadreel would have to find another time to find the end to his story.