Warnings: yaoi SLASH GabrielxSam, sensitive subjects such as blood torture fetishes, and pedophilia

Chapter 4: Coming Undone

When Sam cam to the first thing he noticed was the dull throb of a massive headache that accompanied a strangled feeling in his throat. He forced himself to cough trying to relieve the tension and only ended up gagging as his eyes fluttered open to adjust to the darkness surrounding him.

A dim light that hung overhead cast eerie shadows on the boxes and various abandoned furniture stacked around him. As he tried to sit up he realized that his hands were cuffed together and chained to the wall behind him and his wrists hurt as the thin metal slid over his bruised skin. His whole right side ached as if he'd been unceremoniously thrown on the floor and he winced visibly as he tried to move his shoulder that felt dislocated.

A soft groan escaped his lips as he strained to remember what had happened. The last thing he remembered was debating breakfast as he was walking to school late, and then he blacked out. Hadn't there been something else? Something extremely important? His mind nagged at him to remember the small details as he looked around the room. There were no windows for him to see how many hours had passed, if it was even still daylight. He'd left the motel close to 10 so that left at least 5 and a half hours that his dad and Dean wouldn't even think of looking for him. And who knew how much longer before they actually found him...if they could.

The metallic click of a lock and the creak of a door accompanied by footsteps alerted Sam out of his downward spiral of thoughts as his young hunter instincts sent off alarms to back himself against the wall, ready to fight however he could against whatever was entering the room.

A blonde, balding man with streaks of grey in what little hair he had left shuffled into view, his shoulders slouched and looking formless in the lumpy old-fashioned button-up sweater he wore over tan slacks. His eyes were small and beady against bags under his eyes and his nose was pointed almost like a beak.

"Your awake...oh. Oh my, your awake." the man mumbled more to himself than Sam, his fingers twitching together as he looked over the young boy handcuffed and chained on the floor below him. "Oh...oh so good your awake. Good, good. Very good." He nodded constantly and Sam wished his head would just bob so much it'd fall off his neck with his abnormally large adam's apple already.

The man shuffled to Sam, his feet never seeming to leave the floor, just scooting across it like a dog's butt on carpet when it had worms although his man reminded Sam more of the worms in the butt than any dog he'd never met and he pressed himself back into the cold bricks as far as he could go, ignoring the protesting, stabbing pains in his shoulder and just wanting as much distance between him and this worm of a man as possible.

"Shhhh, sh, sh shhhh." The man whispered, reaching out a trembling hand to stroke his greasy fingers against Sam's cheek who retaliated by snapping his teeth at him much like a rabid dog and sending his best glare.

His tactic worked for a second as the man jerked his fingers away. He stared at Sam, tilting his head this way and that before starting to hum a melody to a song that Sam didn't know and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. With amazing speed and strength that Sam wasn't expecting, he lunged at the teen, grabbing his roughly to shove the cloth into Sam's mouth to tie it behind his head as Sam struggled underneath him, bucking his body in desperation and kicking his legs, trying to dislodge the adult from on top of him.

The man tied the knot and sat back to admire his work that was glaring daggers up at him with hatred and frustration hiding the pain and fear that filled those hazel eyes. He soothed back Sam's bangs out of his face, gripping his shoulder tight to hold him still as Sam tried to jerk away from his touch.

"Shhhhh. What's your name little one?" He tilted his head as if listening although Sam said nothing. "Clint? Why hello Clint, I love that name." He nodded, his gaze wandering off around the room. "Clint Eastwood was one of my favorite actors...I grew up on his movies. My name? I'm Regan. Not named after the President, oh no no no..." He trailed off, his eyes landing on Sam's body once more as he licked his lips and petted the side of Sam's face, a bit roughly like someone would a dog.

Regan leaned over close to his face making Sam cringe, wanting to get away as the man that was so close he could smell the putrid smell of cigarette smoke on his breath making him want to gag. He heard Regan inhale deeply through his nose as he rubbed his face against Sam's head, smelling his hair and Sam almost gagged on the sweaty cloth in his mouth anyways.

Surely his dad or Dean would show up soon. Regan was clearly the man who had been abducting the missing teenagers although Sam really didn't want to think about what he had done to them - what he was going to do to him. But they had been researching this case for almost a week...surely they'd have a lead by now. And on top of Sam's absence, which they were sure to have noticed by now, he was sure that one of them would bust in through that door any second to save him from this creep. But the door remained silent as the rest of the house and all he could hear was Regan's shaky breath close to his neck, warm and making his skin crawl.

This was far different from the last time he had been in this situation, and Sam focused on his memories of Gaybe as an escape from this disturbing reality. Gaybe, who was safe somewhere far from his hunter family. Gaybe, who had sent unknown thrills through his body when he had pressed him up against the wall. Gaybe, who wasn't even human but felt so right.

Unlike this very moment that felt oh so wrong in oh so many ways that Sam couldn't even concentrate on anything else anymore as he felt Regan's hand sliding down his stomach.

"Don't worry Clint, don't worry. I'll be gentle. I'm always gentle." Regan smiled, reveling yellowish teeth and pulled a switchblade knife out from his pocket, flicking it open.

Sam increased his struggles in an attempt to free himself and get away when he saw the weapon, wondering how the hell a knife could be considered gentle and exactly how unhinged this guy was in the head. His eyes pleaded with the door to open and reveal Dean to his rescue but it remained stubbornly shut, mocking his only hope for escape. His family seemed to like close calls and swooping in only at the last second but that last second was gone as Regan lifted Sam's shirt, exposing his stomach and dug the blade of the knife into the soft skin above his hip, tracing it down to the hem of his pants, red flowing from the wound as if the knife were a paintbrush and the red were merely paint, and Regan, the twisted artist was using Sam's body as a canvas. Sam screamed through the gag, writhing in pain and jerking at the chains once again, causing the handcuffs to cut deeper into his skin and cause blood to flow from there as well. He didn't care, he'd gladly chew his arm off if it meant he could get out of this situation as the knife penetrated his skin once again, this time just above his navel, dragging the blade across his stomach.

Regan lowered his mouth to the bloody wounds on Sam's stomach that he'd cause and ran his tongue over it, tasting the red liquid and smearing it across Sam's torso as he trailed his mouth upwards. The knife in one hand, he slashed at Sam's shirt, trying to rip it off of him for better access and accidentally cut Sam, deep on the neck and another long slash diagonally from the collarbone to the nipple.

Sam closed his eyes in agony, choking on his own screams as he felt the metal pierce his skin over and over again. The darkened room was starting to spin as Sam tried to focus his eyes on anything but Regan, his body floating in-between pain and numbness. Everytime he looked down all he could see was red all over his body and absentmindedly wondered how much blood he'd have to loose before he blacked out, hoping it would be soon. His body involuntarily jerked as Regan bit down hard on his nipple, prying another muffled scream from the young hunter.

Sam's hazel eyes rolled up, staring at the ceiling, his breaths coming in short gasps as he felt his consciousness slowly ebb away. He never saw or heard a sound as he felt a soft gust of wind blow through the room and suddenly a sickening, wet, explosion as red over-toke his vision and he felt something that felt like someone had just dumped a bucket of warm clam chowder on him.

The smell of coppery blood coated the room in an instant and Sam shook his head, trying to make sense of what just happened. He felt something sticky and heavy on his leg and looked down. He wished he hadn't. What must have been Regan's arm at one point lay in pieces across his leg, and as Sam scanned the room he saw other various body parts, skin, clothing, intestines... all laying in thick puddles of blood. His own body was completely coated in blood and he fought to keep down his vomit, so he wouldn't choke on it thanks to the gag still in his mouth.

His vision swam as someone crouched down infront of him and he felt a hand on his cheek, wiping away the blood with a gentle touch. The pain started to fade as Sam forced his hazel eyes to focus on olive green eyes infront of him full of concern.

Gaybe.

Gaybe's lips were moving but no sound was coming out as a buzzing noise Sam associated with passing out over-toke his hearing. He could feel Gaybe's hands on his shoulders but it felt like he was drowning, floating away from him. The last thing Sam saw before he let darkness and the peace of unconsciousness take over him once more was Gaybe, his pale skin luminescent in the dark room, almost as if he were literally glowing with power.

SPN SPN SPN

When Sam came back to, he was laying on a foreign bed with a dark red feathered comforter, his head resting on Gaybe's lap, who was sitting with his back against a headboard running his fingers through Sam's hair.

"Gaybe?" Sam asked, he couldn't possibly be here but this felt too real, too good, to be a dream.

"The one and only." Gaybe smirked down at Sam, filling him with relief. There wasn't any creature alive that could mimic that smirk that Sam had found himself slowly falling in love with.

"How are you..How are you here? Where am I? How long was I...?" Sam trailed off after spilling out a line of questions, not knowing which to pick first as Gaybe rolled his eyes.

"One and two." he held up his fingers in a rock on position. "I'm here because this is my apartment. Your in my apartment. On my bed more specifically. My...very comfy bed. Right?" He waggled his eyebrows and it was Sam's turn to roll his eyes, sitting up and realizing that he felt perfectly fine. He looked down at himself, his t-shirt was back in one piece and everything was clean and blood free. He lifted up his shirt to reveal the gashes that Regan had cut into him completely gone and healed as if they'd never been there. He quickly pulled his shirt back down as he noticed Gaybe tilting his head for a better view.

"Pervert."

"Yep." Gaybe grinned, not even trying to deny it. "Oh, and three, you were only out to la la land for 2 minutes at most. I mean come ooon, give me some credit. I'm quick." Then he added quickly. "But not THAT way. I'm nice, long and slooow in THAT way." He nudged Sam in the ribs gently as Sam sat up to sit beside him, leaning heavily against him. Gaybe wrapped an arm around Sam's shoulders, pulling him closer and he allowed himself to nuzzle closer to the warmth and safety of the Trickster.

"I thought you were gone..." Sam mumbled.

Gaybe nodded thoughtfully.

"I was. I mean, you all but shoved me out the door. Or in our case, the ally. A guy can take a hint ya know."

"How did you know to...?" Sam trailed off unsure of how to word his question. How did you know that he needed him? How did he know where he was to come and save him when Dean or his dad couldn't?

"I was bored...and missed your pretty little face so I thought i'd pop into school one more time to harass you since your so cute when you get all flustered and angry." That remark earned him a soft punch on the arm and a small embarrassed smile from the young Winchester. "But you weren't there...or the motel...so I just tapped into your aura and went to you."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Tap into my aura?" He considered the supernatural being before him carefully. "...What are you?"

"I'm the trickster, didn't we go over this already? Yea...I think we did." Gaybe answered his own question. "Remember? The other day? You were all freaking out about the janitor and what not."

"Yea...I remember..." Sam trailed off again. Granted, he didn't know anything about Tricksters, there was just something more to Gaybe than he was letting on. "Your more like a guardian angel than a tricky bastard though..." Sam whispered, not knowing how close to home his words truly hit.

Gaybe smiled, a real smile in place of his constant smirk.

"That's sweet..." He whispered back. Leaning close to Sam and gently taking his lips into his own for a soft kiss that had both of them holding their breaths, breaking contact only when they had to breathe again.

Sam hesitantly reached out, placing his hands on Gaybe's chest and gripping his t-shirt tight like if he let go he'd vanish into thin air. And considering what he was and his powers, that was possible. He just wanted to hold onto this moment, this person forever. But knowing his family business, he knew they'd have to part ways again. It was hard enough to fight out the words to push him away last time. They say the second time you do something it was supposed to be easier but the words died in his throat before he could even start moving his lips each time.

"Will I see you again?" He chose an easier set of words instead, hoping this wouldn't be good-bye forever.

Gaybe swayed back and forth uneasily, refusing to make eye contact.

"Yes...and no. Come on Sam, look at us. Your a hunter. I'm a ...hmmumphmrhm. I can't stop what i'm doing and you can't stop what your doing."

"But you asked if I even wanted to be a hunter! What..what if the answer was no?"

Gaybe shook his head. "I can't let you make that descion now."

"And why not?" Sam snapped.

Gaybe looked at him seriously. "Because you have a path to take...a destiny. And I can't interfere." He slid off the bed and stood, pacing around the front with Sam's hazel eyes tracking his every movement. Leaning against the bed post he sighed and crossed his arms. "Your young..and rash. Your making this choice based off me and I can't interfere with this. I just... the path your set on, the people your going to encounter...well let's just say i'm in my own little witness protection program...or more of a prince and a pauper story and i'm the prince living as a pauper right now. And my evil step-sisters can't know that i've switched to this life."

Sam shook his head, trying to make sense of the riddles. "But if I stay with you, I won't have to-"

"No." Gaybe cut him off. "You can't. You just...can't." He ran his hands through his bangs and looked up at the canopy above the bed instead of Sam's sad puppy dogs eyes wanting nothing more than to just curl up with the human on the comfortable bed with him in his arms. "And do you really want to leave your family?"

Sam thought for a second, nerves churning in his gut. "No...not Dean..."

Gaybe nodded and closed his eyes. "I know."

Sam closed his own eyes as well and toke in the silence. He could easily walk away from his dad and all these crazy life-risking hunts and the orders. But he couldn't abandon his older brother. Especially not like this. Dean would drive himself insane trying to find Sam and he couldn't stand the idea of hurting the brother that had always looked out for him.

"Why can't I see you again then? You came back this time." He asked quietly, wondering if the trickster could even hear him from where he stood at the end of the massive bed.

"You will." He continued before he could get Sam's hopes up though. "But you won't remember me."

"I'll never forget you." He swore.

Gaybe looked away sadly, his breath hitching slightly. "Yes you will." He cut Sam off as he was shaking his fluffy hair in protest. "You won't be able to help it...it's a side effect of me being, well...me. It may not happen for months...or years even. But i'll fade completely from your memory." He sighed and plastered a fake smile on his face, trying to laugh off the tense, depressing moment for something cheerier. "Just hope you don't shove a stake through me like most hunters do."

"I'm NOT going to be a hunter! I'm going to go to college, and be normal!" Sam shook his head, his bangs flopping around his face.

Gaybe smiled sadly. "I wish you could kiddo...wish you could." He walked back around to Sam's side of the bed. "But for now...you've got to go back."

Sam looked at the alarm clock on the small wooden table next to him and the numbers glowed 3:30pm. School was just now getting out and his dad and brother would never even have to know that anything out of the ordinary had ever happened to him.

Gaybe leaned over the bed, capturing Sam's lips once again for the last time and Sam lifted his hands, threading his fingers into Gaybe's hair and pulling him closer. The smell of chocolate and the taste of sugar overwhelming Sam's senses as Gaybe crawled back onto the bed to him, their bodies intertwining, holding each other close in a tangle of limbs.

With a snap of Gaybe's fingers that Sam never even saw coming the room flickered out of existance like a bad tv channel and Sam found himself standing outside of the motel room where he was currently staying, alone.

SPN SPN SPN

John was persistent on staying until the Trickster resurfaced, even after the splattered remains of local librarian Regan Kelso was found in his basement, along with proof of him being the serial kidnapper, rapist and murderer of at least 6 teenage boys. He had no idea his youngest son was among those numbers and Sam wasn't about to tell him otherwise and have him even more determined to stay in town. He wanted to get far away from here, Hoggard High, the ally outside of the motel and anything and everything else that painfully reminded him of Gaybe.

It'd been another week since he'd last seen Gaybe. The trickster was clearly keeping his word against Sam's protests to stay away. Dean and his dad couldn't figure out why he wasn't thrilled to be staying in town this long since he was usually fighting nail and tooth to stay in one school for as long as possible and Sam wasn't going to even try to explain. He'd just come home from school each day and hole himself up on his bed with as many lore books he could find trying to research more about Tricksters or other creatures Gaybe could be. His dad just thought he was trying to willingly help research and was actually a bit disappointed when Caleb called him, asking for his immediate help on a hunt up in Michigan.

Stuffing all the research away in a folder for later use, the three Winchesters packed up the truck and Impala, getting ready to head out to Michigan. Sam rode shotgun with Dean as usual, following their dad's giant black truck out of town.

Sam merely stared out the window. Just because his dad had given up didn't mean he would. He'd find out everything he could and track down Gaybe, forcing him to stay this time. If he could go to college and be normal, not a hunter, there'd be no reason for them to not be together. He wouldn't feel obligated to hunt him for just being supernatural anymore and with his experience he'd be able to help hide and protect him from other hunters - not that Gaybe needed his help. And if Sam could get away from doing what his family wanted him to do, there was no reason Gaybe couldn't. Maybe he could convince him to stop killing humans for his own dad's approval or whatever was going on behind closed doors.

The scenery flew by the closed glass window in blurs of green and blue. As they came up to the ramp to the highway he could see the giant green sign bidding farewell to the town of Wilmington. Dean slowed down at the red light and Sam could see someone leaning against the sign casually as if waiting for the bus. He was tall, probably in his mid-20s, a few years older than Dean with slicked back dark ginger hair and his hands in his pockets. As the light turned green he turned his head to look back at Sam and smirked, making Sam's heart leap into his throat as he recognized olive green eyes. He quickly jumped and spun around in his seat to get a better look before they drove away but he was gone - as if he'd vanished into thin air.

"What? What is it?" Dean asked, flicking concerned green glances at his little brother who was backwards on the leather seat of the classic car.

"Nothing..." Sam mumbled sadly, turning back around in his seat and slouching down, no longer wanting to watch the passing scenery outside the car. As he lowered himself, his feet kicked his bookbag, causing it to tumble over on the floor boards and several books to fall out.

Weird...Sam thought as he bent over to shove the items back into his bag, swearing that he had zipped it shut before. Reaching in the bag, his hand brushed something soft he didn't reconize and he slowly pulled it out, squeezing his eyes shut to fight back tears as he realized what it was. In his lap he tightly grasped a faded grey Star Wars shirt.

You remind me of the Gaybe. What Gaybe? Gaybe with the power. What power? Power of the voodoo. Who do? You do. Do what? Remind me of the Gaybe...

End

Sorry for the slightly sad ending but there were only so many ideas I had on how to end this and still make the episode Tall Tales, where Gabriel resurfaces still make sense and this was the happiest that didn't involve Sam immediately loosing his memory or John shoving a stake through Gaybe.

Thanks for reading. Special thanks to YellowBulma and everyone who has favorited or alerted this fic. Your comments single handedly inspire keep me writing and it means alot to me that you follow my work.