Author Notes: Set before 'Hammer of the Gods' or totally ignores it, your choice lol. Many thanks to cageyklio for a wonderful beta job. I am utterly in your debt.
THE MIRACLE
Gabriel had learned a lot of universal truths in his considerable lifetime. This was one that later seemed determined to bite him in the ass - archangels might be absolute, but earthly desires, while satisfying, faded rapidly. Oh, he enjoyed fulfilling them, as frequently as possible. But even Gabriel knew there were some he should stay away from since they'd screw-up the nice carefree uninvolved existence he'd set up for himself.
He dismissed his interest in Sam Winchester as just that - one of those dangerous wants with complicated consequences that would melt away soon. And in the meantime, there were other desires aplenty to keep him satisfied.
The thing was, it didn't.
A few years on, that interest was still there. It had started out as a curiosity. The boy meant to be Lucifer's vessel was ridiculously tall with an unshakeable belief in good no matter the circumstances that had gone out with slaying dragons as a way to get dates. There were similarities to the Morning Star, Gabriel could see that.
But that wasn't the sum of what Sam was. He had smarts and a wit under all that earnestness that Lucifer had never possessed. Lucifer had always taken everything, including himself, so seriously.
Gabriel had looked out through the Trickster's laughing eyes and admired Sam Winchester and pitied him for all the crap that was going to be thrown at him soon. It sucked to be him.
Mystery Spot reeled him in tighter. Sam had tenacity and a boatload of determination and spirit. He was also stubborn to a very obvious fault. His motives were honourable, even if he completely missed the point. He was also pretty when he was angry. Gabriel watched a little closer after that.
Then something weird started happening: Sam Winchester took root inside of Gabriel somehow.
He was starting to hear the boy's voice, yammering away about whatever Gabriel was doing, and didn't he know what he could be doing with his powers instead? The difference he could be making? It was grating and repetitive and somehow Gabriel found he was used to it.
"You're unusually alone," observed Rice, clinking her overflowing goblet against his.
She was favouring leather this time, just about reigning in the glorious assets she'd shaped for this body, and was literally smoking thanks to the lit scented sticks twisted into her deep green fall of hair. She smelled like wet earthy forest and something that reminded Gabriel nostalgically of Syria. She curled up next to him, resting a gorgeous cheekbone against his shoulder.
"Is that an offer?" Gabriel leered down at her. It wouldn't be the first time. Forest spirits were kinky.
Rice laughed and slid a hand under his jacket. "It will be later."
Gabriel grinned back, enjoying what she was doing with her fingers. He could hear Nessa down by the fire, dark hair and darker lips. When she got those teeth into him, he'd forget what it was that had taken him away from the firelight and the exuberant company and overflowing wines in the first place.
"Something on your mind?"
Gabriel shook his head irritably. There was no end to the fun he could have tonight and his mind was hooked on a luckless mortal. Sam Winchester had a lot to answer for. Talk about a buzz kill.
"Wow," Rice squeezed his bicep. "Silence and going solo. Someone's really gotten to you. Shame."
Gabriel flashed her a grin and drained his goblet. Rice kissed him, her tongue exploring his mouth thoroughly. Her hair felt like seaweed and there was sand at its roots. She'd been playing further away from home. That would make for some fun stories.
Gabriel watched the sway of her hips as she walked away. Bacchus had arrived with enough kegs to drown several frat parties. Gabriel grinned; he'd keep that in mind for the future. The night was still young and Sam Winchester could shut up.
Screwing with the Winchesters had become a fun habit and Gabriel was particularly proud of trapping them in television hell as an extra side bonus to go with the serious business of getting them locked into the quickest route to family peace. The challenging, disturbingly-human look on Castiel's face when he'd left the warehouse stayed with Gabriel for a long time after though. Oh, how things changed.
Dean was the same – angry and empty and desperate for everything and guilt striping him from his core outwards. But Sam had changed. He was still too tall and adorably earnest, but there were shades where his demon lover had left her sticky little fingerprints and demon blood cast a long unfortunate shadow. He was angry and desperate too, in his own less-explosive way.
For all Dean's faults – and there was a really long list – his words were jarringly on-target. Gabriel glared because no one wanted to hear they were a coward. And the way Sam looked at him, like Gabriel was disappointing all his sweet childhood dreams of angelhood. Yeah, that was sticking hard.
So Gabriel flew.
He flew hard and fast, ripping through fresh cold air that would sting his face if he was anything other than an angel of the absent lord. A rocky outcrop near a mountain served as a landing spot. Gabriel crouched down, hands in the dust, and just breathed. He felt raw.
Fucking Winchesters.
Sam Winchester was still there inside of him, pulling him towards a side that would mean facing down his brothers. Everything that had turned him inside out and forced him to the edge of paradise and out.
Gabriel coughed out a bitter laugh, tasting mint and smoke. Dad had a sick sense of humour. Angels were created as soldiers, reflections of God's beauty and love and terrible wrath, to feel as their Father instructed. Humanity had caused a war in heaven with their rampant imperfections and place as their Father's favoured. And Gabriel had become like them, tangled with emotions, yearning for something that was deeply destructive.
Sam had pulled all this out into the open, without even realising it.
Gabriel
Gabriel's eyes snapped open. Someone was praying. Sam Winchester. Castiel was losing more of his grace, Dean was teetering on the edge of exhaustion, and Sammy was scared of saying "yes." The team who wanted to save the world was close to meltdown.
A second later, Gabriel was in front of Sam, hands in his pockets, some version of a sneer on his face. Sam looked shocked.
"You used my name, Sammy," Gabriel raised his eyebrows. "You know all about the power in that."
There were a ton of other explanations clawing to get out, but Gabriel was a master at his façade that hadn't been just a façade for centuries. Only Sam was making it splinter and who knew who was really underneath?
"We need help, Gabriel," Sam's voice was calm now and firm and he'd pulled himself together. But there was a shake in his fingers as he ran a hand through his hair and demon blood stained him brightly.
Gabriel barked out a harsh laugh. "You don't say."
"Castiel's……..he's losing power and Dean thinks I'm gonna say "yes" and I'm wanting....," Sam stuttered to a halt, his words as jittery as his hands. Gabriel narrowed his eyes; the boy wasn't right at all.
"What happened?"
Sam sighed, looking deeply unhappy. "Famine. Cas couldn't stop eating and I….."
He didn't need to finish. If Famine was out, countries would begin disintegrating any day now.
"I stopped him," Sam's voice was small.
Gabriel reached lightly into Sam's recent memories; saw Famine cackling, Cas eating raw meat like he'd die if he didn't. Sam crushing the Horseman. Dean's stare weighed heavily on Sam and then it was going cold turkey in the panic room. Fun times.
Gabriel let out a breath. They'd been busy.
"What do you want, Sam?"
Sam twitched. His words were careful with pleading stacked through them. "I know you don't want Lucifer to win."
Gabriel arched an eyebrow, wondering what was seeping out of him through the cracks for Sam to see. "Oh?"
"We amuse you, you've always said that."
A home away from home. More home than heaven now. Gabriel gritted his teeth under his smile.
"So I've grown used to it," he shrugged. "Doesn't mean I'm gonna be the cavalry here, kiddo."
"Then why are you here?"
Gabriel considered flying away. This was all too messy for him to be involved in, with nasty unbreakable strings attached. But Sam was giving him that wide-eyed pleading look and he was obviously still recovering from the joys of falling off the wagon. Castiel was probably too focused on dealing with Dean and his mountain of issues to get to helping Sam yet. Gabriel sighed long-sufferingly.
"You look awful," he informed Sam, right before he pressed two fingers to his forehead and dropped the younger Winchester into the blissful oblivion of dreamless sleep.
There were pastries and coffee waiting when Sam woke up. Gabriel was halfway through his second Danish, the comics section of the paper spread out in front of him. He didn't bother raising his head, feeling Sam's confused expression.
"You've got so much to answer for," he informed the Calvin and Hobbes strip.
Sam levered himself upright, taking in the familiar motel room, Dean's bag on the other empty bed. Then his eyes tracked back to Gabriel and they were full of renewed hope. It was incredible really, despite everything, Sam Winchester and his impossible dreams endured.
"Are you going to help us?"
Gabriel rolled his eyes. Sam was still weak and wrecked from the workover Famine had given him, but he asked the tough questions straight away. The boy had balls. Gabriel liked that.
"Don't get any ideas," he replied. "I'll see you around."
For the split second before he snapped his fingers, Gabriel saw the way Sam's face lit up, light under all that darkness at last. What humanity was capable of defied everything.
Sam was right; seeing humanity burn was not at the top of Gabriel's wish list. In the silence, just him, a pound of the best Godiva chocolates he could conjure, and more than a fifth of whiskey, Gabriel thought about impossible dreams and the men who dreamed them.
Gabriel kept an eye on Sam. A close invisible eye mostly. He watched as Sam tried to rebuild himself after the demon blood, tried to be strong for Dean who always seemed to be on the brittle edge of a breakdown now if it weren't for Castiel hauling him back. Dean Winchester was a lucky man, and he probably didn't even know it.
It was possible during that time that Gabriel dealt with the occasional group of demons who closed in on the Winchester cluster. Nothing special. Nothing that they could pick up on.
It was also possible that Gabriel had gotten drawn into picking a side in the fight, even if he wasn't outwardly declaring it. Fucking Winchesters.
"Gabriel?"
He appeared to find Sam, worn and exhausted, in the usual empty motel room. Times might change, but the Winchesters could still write a guide to the crappiest motel rooms in the country. Sam smiled.
"Thanks."
Gabriel looked questioning, a bored expression slotted neatly out front for all to see. Sam strode closer, purposeful movements that didn't fit with how weary he clearly was. Gabriel shifted, hands in his pockets. He was not going to start running from a Winchester, even this one that had apparently been pulling him around by invisible strings for longer than Gabriel was comfortable with admitting to.
"I know you've been watching us," Sam was smirking. "You took out those demons in Oregon."
"Hey, I had plans and they screwed them up."
"Uh huh."
Sam's expression clearly said try again, dumbass and that was just insulting, being on the receiving end of that look from a Winchester. Gabriel unwrapped the candy bar that had appeared in his hand.
"You are getting better," he acknowledged, mouth full of chocolate.
Sam took a step closer, his expression intent. Gabriel could feel his heartbeat, skittering faster, and the sharp edge of want that Sam was projecting at him strongly. That was unexpected, and not unwelcome.
"You're helping us," Sam breathed quietly. "Miracles do happen."
That sounded like a challenge. Gabriel didn't move an inch. He smirked, just a little. Sam stumbled on his next step, sheer exhaustion finally buckling his knees. Gabriel caught him easily and manoeuvred him over to the bed. He affectionately rumpled a hand through Sam's hair.
"Easy there, bucko. Gotta walk before you can run."
Sam muttered something under his breath, wrapping his arms around Gabriel so that the archangel was forced down too. He pillowed his head on Gabriel's lap. Gabriel didn't protest. He slid a hand over Sam's cheek. Who was he fucking kidding? Somewhere, at some impossible point, since he'd first set eyes on the younger Winchester, Gabriel had made his choice. He'd picked a side.
The expression on Dean's face when he found them was going to be priceless.
Gabriel could feel when Sam's nightmares started up. They were powerful, strong enough to make Sam shake. Lucifer was making regular appearances. Gabriel had already figured that out; it was Possession 101 and Lucifer rarely ever thought outside the box.
Gabriel put up walls, smoothed out the screams and the blood inside Sam's mind. Sam slept a whole lot better after that. He held onto Gabriel tightly. Gabriel held on right back.
-the end