Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“You realize I’m not gay, right?” Sam asked Gabriel, annoyed as Gabriel simply shrugged and threw another one liner his way. “Have you tried it Sammy? I’d climb you like a tree.” “First of all, gross and Don’t. Call. Me. That.” Sam bit out before turning away from Gabriel. Where the hell was Dean? He and Cas were supposed to show up almost thirty minutes ago and instead here he was, waiting on them with the bane of his existence.  

He’d met Gabriel almost two years prior, when Dean and Cas finally got their shit together and got together. He’d met Gabriel for their first joint Thanksgiving and Gabriel had been obscene from the get go. The guy just didn’t know the meaning of the word no. Not to mention Sam wasn’t gay, for the love of all the gods. But no, no matter how many times Sam told him as such, Gabriel just wouldn’t give it up. Sam wished he’d had the forethought to bring a fucking date but his fucking brother didn’t tell him Gabriel was going to be here. Did I mention Sam was annoyed? LOL. 

Sam looked around the bar in search of a quick possible date when fingers snapped in front of his face. “Samshine, did you forget about me? What are you thinking about?” Sam exhaled and forced himself to rein it in. “I’m trying to forget you’re here.” He snapped. Fine, so he wasn’t able to rein it in. What could he say? Gabriel brought out the worst in him.  

Gabriel huffed. “Fine. If you’re going to be boring, I’m going to go sing some karaoke.” And with that he flounced, really that’s what he did, fucking flounced out of the booth and Sam watched as he walked up to the stage (if you could call it that), shuffle through what Sam assumed was the song book, point at one and then something slow started playing as the DJ introduced him to the crowd.  

Sam wished he had brought earplugs. He was woefully unprepared for Gabriel this evening it seemed. No date and no earplugs. He watched as Gabriel brought the mic up to his mouth and wished he had ordered a shot to drink as he was forced to listen to his probable braying. 

“Looking back, on the memory of the dance we shared ‘ neath the stars above. For a moment all the world was alright. How could I have known that you’d ever say goodbye? And now, glad I didn’t know the way it all would end, the way it all would go. Our lives are better left to chance. I could have missed the pain, but I’d’ve had to miss the dance.”  

Sam blinked, erroneous triple contraction already forgotten, overshadowed by the vibrations he could practically feel coming from Gabriel. 

He blinked again, his drink suspended in mid-air. 

It'd been on the way to his mouth but now it hung uselessly and in a motion he couldn't have explained himself he used his other hand to push it down. Nonsensical but, again, immediately forgotten because- 

Gabriel, more serious than Sam had ever seen him, sang softly into the mic, his voice an octave lower than he normally spoke.  

“Man, who knew the short-stack could sing, huh?” Dean broke him out of his reverie by shoving him lightly on the shoulder as he slinked in beside Sam. Sam glared at him before hissing, “Why the fuck were you so late, Dean? I had to fucking sit here with him for thirty minutes!” “Aw, come on Sammy. Don’t be like that. He’s good people.” Sam threw him one of his patented bitch faces but dropped it as Gabriel came to the booth and Cas slid out to let him in.  

“What’d ya think Sam-a-lam?” Sam shrugged noncommittally and didn’t answer but Cas spoke up. “You sounded excellent as always brother. I hadn’t heard you sing in a while. Will you please bring your guitar next time we’re together for the holidays?” Sam almost spit up his drink but managed to hold it back at the last minute. “You play the guitar too?” He asked before he could stop himself. “Quite well.” Cas said, sounding proud. “He had the opportunity to join several bands but didn’t.”  

“Really?” Sam snarked, "you gave up all the attention you so obviously crave to be a baker?” 

“And chocolatier Samshine. I make a mean hot chocolate. You should come by some time. I’ll give you a free hot chocolate and you don’t even have to perform sexual favors in return…unless you want to that is.”  

Sam rolled his eyes before responding, “No thanks. I’ll let you know if I decide to go to an early grave from diabetes though. And, again, I’m straight.”  

“I don’t know, Sam-I-Am. I’ve known you for a while now I’ve yet to see you with a pretty girl.”  

“Exactly.” Dean interjected. “He let go of his last girl because he was too busy allegedly although she was perfect.” Sam pointed at his brother. “First of all, whose side are you on? Second of all, if she had been so perfect, I might have felt, I don’t know, heartbroken or something when we split up. I didn’t feel a thing. Thirdly, she didn’t even wait a month before getting with Brady so it’s probable that they may have already had a thing in which case she wasn’t so perfect now was she?”  

Dean rolled his eyes. “Do you always have to be such a lawyer about things, bitch?” “You started it jerk.” Sam responded in his usual manner.  

The server interrupted them then bringing their conversation to a halt as they placed their orders. Cas and Dean ordered greasy ass burgers, extra onion for Dean (how Cas could kiss him like that was beyond Sam), a salad for Sam which Dean rolled his eyes at and three different desserts for Gabriel plus an Oreo milkshake. Sam cringed at the amount of sugar he was consuming but kept his mouth shut. It was his funeral. 

Gabriel, of course, caught the grimace on his face and spoke up, “It’s for research purposes Samshine. Gotta make sure I’m still better than the competitors.” “Right.” Scoffed Sam. “Because you’re such a major corporation.” “Actually,” started Cas only to be interrupted by Gabriel who said, “Ah, ah, ah, little brother. Let people draw their own conclusions. It’s more fun that way. It lets you know what they really think of you.”  

That made Sam frown. The way Gabriel posed that made it seem like he was missing something, but what? Before he knew it was Gabriel’s place he’d passed by (and even occasionally gone into, for coffee) Scent From Heaven. It was a small storefront with a red and white awning that had drawn him in because it was so reminiscent of a small-town feel. The inside was decorated with quirky quotes that he’d found amusing until he met Gabriel, then he just felt annoyed and they personally offended him and now he never went in, choosing instead to go to the Starbucks and their impersonal employees. Better them than run the risk of running into Gabriel. For all Sam knew, Gabriel was liable to take that as an admission that he liked him or something and he definitely didn’t need to give him more ammunition. 

Anyway, what could Castiel have been about to say? Now Sam was a little intrigued as he eyed the small man suspiciously. Was Gabriel mixed up in something illegal? What if it was a storefront for laundering money or something? Sam made a mental note to look into the tax returns for the small business when he got back to the office on Monday. 

“Calm down Sammy, your ADA is showing.”  

“Bugger off Dean.”   

The table lapsed into silence as someone else started singing. They were bad. Really bad. Sam felt a laugh bubbling up in his stomach and he forcefully ignored meeting eyes with Dean because he knew they’d crack up and that would be mean. Of course, Dean had to go and nudge him and it was all over, even before their eyes met, they were both already laughing. When Dean started choking on his beer Sam had to pound him on the back to help him out.  

“Will you go sing another, brother? I caught only the last part of your song.” Cas asked Gabriel who shook his head. “Please?” Cas asked quietly and Sam saw Gabriel relent and once again Cas slid out to let him out. That was nice of him , thought Sam as he watched Gabriel make his way up to the stage once again. It wasn’t like he knew whether Gabriel was a nice person or not, he’d never really sat down and talked to the little imp- he was just so infuriating that Sam opted to be as far away from that train wreck as possible.  

There was one person in front of him and they had to suffer through a butchered “Like A Virgin” before Gabriel once again took the stage. To their surprise, Gabriel waved off the music and was handed a guitar and a stool which he took a seat on as the DJ adjusted the mike to his level.  

“This one goes out to my little brother, Cassie, who for some unknown reason likes to hear me play and sing. Also, my probably soon to be brother-in-law, Dean and lastly, the love of my life, Sammy. And please pardon my performance," he said, motioning to the instrument, "it’s been a few months.” Gabriel waved towards Cas, Dean and Sam who tried to slink down into his seat as much as possible as the entire fucking crowd oohed and aahed.  

Thankfully Gabriel started playing then (another country song) and after playing the intro started singing, “People say it’s only in my head. It’s gonna take time but I’ll forget. They say I need to get on with my life; what they don’t realize is when you’re dialing six numbers just to hang up the phone, driving across town just to see if he’s home, waking a friend in the dead of the night, just to hear him say it’s going to be alright. When you’re finding things to do not to fall asleep cause you know he’ll be there in your dreams, that’s when you know, he’s more than a memory.”  

Fine. So Gabriel could play and sing. Really fucking well. Whatever.  

Gabriel finished the song just as the server was delivering their food and the crowd erupted in applause. He sauntered over to “up top, man” and various other commendations and high fives as Sam dug into his salad with annoyance. “Did you like it Samshine?” Sam just glared at him and Gabriel had the gall to wink.  

The quartet were finishing up their food when Dean spoke up. “Well, we did call you guys out here for a reason. Cas and I, uh, well, we decided to get married.” Dean was interrupted by Gabriel letting out a squeal sounding for all the world like a goddamn cheerleader and when people turned, he excitedly told them the news and before Sam knew it the whole fucking restaurant was clapping. “Must you turn everything into a circus?” He hissed at Gabriel; whose smile faltered for a split second before he grinned broadly. “We’re going to be related Sammy! That’s cause for celebration right there!” Dean was blushing a bright red and even Cas had a hint of a smile on his face which forced Sam to back down. He would not make a scene at the expense of his brother's news.  

“Than—thank you all,” Dean stammered out to the well-wishers. Finally, just as Sam was getting ready to walk the fuck out of there, Dean turned back to them, rubbing the back of his neck. “What I was trying to say is that we’d like you both to be our respective best men, what do you say Sammy?” Sam was happy for his brother, he really was, and he’d do anything for him but he knew what Dean was really asking. This would require for him to spend time with Gabriel outside of the three or four holidays he was already forced to spend with him and fuck, it was his brother, of course he’d do it. Sam rolled his eyes as jovially as he could. “Of course, Dean. Congratulations to you both.” He said, nodding towards Castiel too.  

“You know what this means don’t you, Sammy?” Gabriel asked excitedly. “Yes.” Sam answered shortly. “I’m going to have to deal with you.” Gabriel’s eyes widened, “Sammoose! I hadn’t even considered that bonus! I was thinking that obviously I’ll make the cake and until we find the perfect combination of Dean and Cassie here, we’ll have to try many recipes!!” If Sam had liked Gabriel, he would have been amused at the way the shorter man was practically vibrating with excitement. Since he didn’t- “Well, congratulations you two. I’m sorry to have to leave so early but I’m working on a deposition and I really need to get some sort of break through before Monday otherwise this asshole is going to walk free. Again.”  

“You still working that Milton case?” Dean asked sympathetically. “The one with the devil name?”  

A sharp gasp came from across the table and Sam and Dean turned to find both Cas and Gabriel with pale faces. Gabriel recovered quickly, plastering a bored languid look on his face, but it was too late, Sam had seen and his senses had sharpened on his sudden prey. He watched as Castiel turned to Gabriel.  

“Brother.”  

Gabriel shook his head. “Not in this lifetime Cassie.”  

“But what if-”  

“Don’t know, don’t care. Don’t go opening that can of worms little brother.”  

The brother’s watched as Castiel slumped in defeat.  

“As you wish.” 

“Excuse me-” Sam interrupted, “but you know Lucifer Milton?” Gabriel let out another small choked sound before he covered his own mouth with his hand. Sam's eyes dilated and narrowed.  

“Gabriel,” he repeated, a warning in his tone, “answer the question. Do you know Lucifer Milton?”  

“I plead the fifth.” Gabriel chirped nonchalantly, swirling the straw of his milkshake around and winking lasciviously at Sam. The desperate act to get him to back off might have worked if Sam hadn’t seen his hand shaking as he reached for said straw.  

“You know I can subpoena you, right?” 

“Ah, ah, Sammy,” Gabriel responded, wagging a finger in Sam’s face, “not without having cause. You can’t subpoena me just because I may or may not know Lucifer Milton. You have no evidence of anything otherwise and I don’t have evidence period. Nor have I witnessed anything.” He added as an afterthought.   

“But you do know him? Or know of him?” Sam emphasized having seen Gabriel navigate loopholes like a pro in the past. He was quick on his feet and saw the world differently than most people. Hell, if he wasn’t an idiot, he’d have made a hell of a lawyer.  

“I know of many people, ya know?” Gabriel enunciated back at him with a small eyeroll, letting Sam he knew exactly what he was getting at. “Including one extremely gorgeous gigantor named Sam Winchester.” 

Sam sighed. Gabriel was obviously a dead end and honestly, he was still a little disconcerted about how much law the guy knew. The guy never ceased to surprise him.   

He looked towards Cas who still had the deer in headlights look on him but one glance at his brother made up his mind for him. He wasn’t going to antagonize anyone. Gabriel was right, people could know of other people and how horrible they were without actually knowing them. He motioned for Dean to let him out and after saying bye to him and Cas (and ignoring Gabriel’s obnoxious waving) he was almost out the door when he heard, “Wait! Sam-a-lama.” Dammit , Sam thought. So close.  

He turned to see Gabriel walking quick with a paper in his hand. “Here, text me so that we can get together and get started with the wedding of the millennia. Bye, Sam!” Sam just stood there as the Tasmanian Devil, otherwise known as Gabriel, tucked a paper into his pants pocket, going far deeper into it than needed while simultaneously going on his tip toes and kissing his cheek.  

I’m fucking straight , Sam thought resignedly as he walked out the front door and got into his car. 

Chapter Text

The next day Sam woke up, went for his usual run, cleaned his place up a bit, had lunch and basically did everything he could think of to put it off but finally forced himself to bite the bullet. Alas, the time had come. Going into his closet he dug into his jean’s pocket and pulled out the scrap paper that had been taunting him since the previous night. Even after he’d taken off his pants, he swore he could still feel the heat of Gabriel’s hand scorching.   

Sighing in apprehension of what was to come he sent a text with a single word.  

“Gabriel.”  

Two minutes of staring in morbid intensity at his phone later he received a picture of cut up pineapple with the message “Samshine! I was starting to think you’d gotten cold feet! Leave that for Dean. Or better yet, save it for when we get married. Hey! Did you know that when you eat a pineapple it eats you back?”  

Trying to keep up with the rapid subject changes (and against his better judgement) Sam indulged him (on the latter, he wasn’t touching the former with a ten foot pole) and responded in kind, “Are you seriously eating fruit?” He watched the bubbles come up indicating that Gabriel was responding. “Sometimes I have to Sammy. Currently I’m making sure the pineapple is sweet enough to use in a pineapple upside down cake.”  

Of course , thought Sam, it’s for something sweet. Heaven forbid the man eat something healthy for his, you know, damn health . Whatever. It wasn’t his business anyway. Getting the conversation back on track, he sent another message. 

“Are you available to get together this afternoon? And it’s Sam.” 

“I’m always available for you, Samshine. Available and open just for you. Always. Anytime, anywhere.” 

“Understood, acknowledged and ignored.” Sam responded, not noticing a small smile tugging at his lips.  

“You wound me Sammy.” That made Sam laugh out loud. Fucking Gabriel. He was ridiculous and Sam had no qualms about telling him so.  

“You’re ridiculous. Now where shall we meet?”  

“You want to come to the bakery? I’m here right now.” 

Sam grimaced. No doubt Gabriel would try to make him eat some sort of sweet. Ah, fuck it. He was a grown man; he was capable of saying no.  

Less than twenty minutes later Sam entered Scent From Heaven and was immediately assaulted by a cacophony of both sounds and smells. It was busy as hell but he supposed that was to be expected on a Saturday. He stood in line figuring he might as well do his good deed of the day and help out Gabriel’s shoppe. He wasn’t hungry or thirsty but he could get a small coffee. 

When he reached the counter, he placed his order before asking the young barista if Gabriel was in. The teen looked at him before stuttering that there wasn’t a Gabriel there. Sam arched a brow just as Gabriel came rushing out, flour in his hair and on his face, on his black t shirt and his black jeans.  

“I’ve got it kiddo.”  

The teen, who bore a nametag with “Kobe” embossed on it, looked confused. He looked like he was still growing into his body but right then he absolutely did not par with the image of the only Kobe Sam knew (and consequently the one his mind kept on helpfully supplying) and he had to hold back a snort as his voice cracked yet again when he pointed at Sam and tried to explain, “He said he was looking for a Gabriel.”  

“That’s ok, I’ll help him out. Will you please go put on more coffee? Samshine here likes his blonde so put some on for him, please.”  

As Kobe moved into the back, Gabriel rang him up. Sam couldn’t help himself. “His parents really named him Kobe? Poor kid.” 

“Don’t make fun of people, Sammich,” Gabriel gently rebuked, “His name is Akobel. I figured Kobe was easier on the tongue than having to hear people butchering his name all day long.” 

Sam stayed quiet for a moment, studying the man before him when something caught his eye.  

“Loki? Really?” He asked incredulously, pointing at Gabriel’s nametag. 

“Yes, really. Trickster extraordinaire at your service my good sir. May I grant you a boon? Anything your heart desires.”  

Sam rolled his eyes. He could play Gabriel’s, excuse him, Loki’s game. He actually did fit a trickster persona. Sam could see why he’d chosen that name. What he didn’t get was why not even his employees knew his real name but he chalked it up to Gabriel being Gabriel. He couldn’t even begin to understand the guy.  

Kobe walked back out with a cup of steaming coffee and Gabriel handed it to him before motioning him to follow him into the kitchen. Sam did so with some trepidation. A chef he was not. He could cook breakfast staples but even that was generous naming. Mostly they were cooked, anything beyond that description was granting him more credit than he deserved. In his defense, he could make a mean cup of joe.  

“You hungry Samshine? I’ve got something you can eat.”  

“I’m straight Ga-I mean Loki.” Sam responded dryly. 

Loki laughed. “As much as I love where your head is at, I meant the pineapple that I sent you earlier. I have some left and considering you don’t like sweets or chocolate I thought I’d save you some.”  

“I like them sometimes.” Sam defended himself, slightly embarrassed at his assumption of Gabriel’s offer. “I’m just not trying to drive myself into an early grave like you are.”  

“That’s no way to live life Sammy but I’ll do something special for you. I’ll take a couple, just a couple of strawberries and dip them in dark chocolate-that’s healthy enough for you- and then you can have those so you can satisfy my sweet tooth and you can also eat plain strawberries and pineapples.” 

“Sur- wait, so that I can satisfy YOUR sweet tooth?” Gabriel winked at him and Sam shook his head. He’d walked right into that one.  

Gabriel laughed, “Watching you eat chocolate does things to me, Sammy.” 

The phone rang then and Gabriel shushed him as he put it on speaker so he could work on dipping his fruit. “Scent From Heaven, this is Loki, Trickster Extraordinaire, how may I help you today?”  

“Hello little brother.”  

Sam watched as the blood drained from Gabriel’s face and his hand whipped up to hang up the phone, not caring that he was getting chocolate all on the phone. He frowned, chewing his lip in contemplation. He knew that voice, he just couldn’t place it. And what was with little brother? As far as he knew it was just Gabriel and Cas. He was about to ask when the phone rang again and a look of relief passed over Gabriel’s face as he answered it with the same greeting as before, albeit a little less enthusiastically. This time the voice growled out. “Gabriel.”  

“I’m sorry, you have the wrong number. Please don’t call again.” Now Sam’s heckles were officially raised. Who was Gabriel hiding from?  

The phone rang again and this time Gabriel didn’t answer it but apparently, he forgot the answering machine was on and Gabriel’s hands were full of chocolate and he just looked on helplessly as the voice once again ground out his name. “Gabriel. Unless you want me showing up at your little store you better fucking call me back. Me and Raph need to talk to you. We require your services. Your real services not this baking bullshit. Don’t make us show up.” And with that the phone was slammed down.  

All of Sam’s senses were tingling. Something…this was reminding him of something but he couldn’t place it. What was it, goddammit? He watched as Gabriel hung his head and took a few deep breaths before finally straightening, placing the final touches on the plate of fruit he’d been working on and going to wash his hands. He stayed quiet throughout the process as Sam’s mind race, warring with the strange compulsion that he knew that voice along with how quiet Gabriel was.  

It was the longest he’d ever seen Gabriel go without speaking. He finally walked back and put the plate in front of Sam.  

“Eat up Sammich. Then we can talk wedding. The pineapple upside down cake is almost done so I wondered if maybe you’d have just a forkful to see if it’s something they might like.”  

Gabriel was rambling, Sam realized. He waited until he was done with his tangent and then spoke. “Who was that?” “Wrong number.” Gabriel said immediately. Sam arched a brow at him. “Riiiight. Even though he called you Gabriel twice and unlike the people who work here I know it to be your actual name.”  

Gabriel smirked at him and then asked, “Why Sammy? Are you jealous?” Sam almost retorted a response but one look at Gabriel’s face stopped him. Yes, Gabriel was smirking but there was a lot of tension behind it. Something was seriously wrong but Gabriel didn’t want to tell him and that sorta did something to Sam. He didn’t like the guy but that didn’t mean he wanted him to be in any danger either. Maybe it was a stalker ex. But no, wait. He’d called him little brother.  

“He called you little brother, Gabriel.” 

The smirk stayed firmly in place but there was more pressure around the eyes.  

“It’s Loki, sweet thang. And it’s nothing for you to worry your gorgeous head about. I’ll handle it later. Let’s talk cake.”  

Sam shrugged. He couldn’t help Gabriel if he didn’t want help and it wasn’t any of his business anyway. The timer went off then and less than five minutes later he had the world’s smallest piece of cake sitting in front of him. He was surprised by the thoughtfulness shown by Gabriel in not bringing him a big piece. He took a forkful and had to hold back a moan. It was so good. It didn’t say Dean nor Cas but it damn good nonetheless.  

Without noticing he took another forkful, then another. And then when he went to take another there wasn’t any left and he looked at Gabriel who was now leaning against the sink, watching him, smirking.  

“Did I just…” he trailed off.  

Gabriel laughed. “You sure did, Samheart. I’m glad you liked it. I tasted it but while good, as all of my creations are, it didn’t really say Dean or Cas to me, did you get a different read on it?”  

Sam was still red from having eaten all that cake with an audience (Gabriel) no less but he shook his head. “You’re right. It’s really good but it didn’t say Dean or Cas to me either.” 

“I can’t believe I ate it all.” He repeated after a moment. 

“From you, that’s the ultimate compliment, Sammy”, Gabriel said quietly before changing it up and quipping, “you sure know how to flatter a girl!”  

Sam thought he sounded like he was trying just a bit too hard but went along with it, not wanting to make Gabriel anymore uncomfortable (although why he gave a damn, he didn’t know. He was certain that if the tables were turned Gabriel would stop at nothing for a chance to mock him.) 

“You calling yourself the girl?”  

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Gabriel winked at him before plucking the plate off the table and putting it in the sink.  

Sam sipped his coffee and watched as Gabriel pulled out a notebook from a surprisingly organized desk and brought it over to where he sat. He sat at the head of the table and Sam had to fight the urge to move away. He was really fucking close to Gabriel but their closeness made sense. They needed to talk everything over and sitting as they were would allow both of them to see what was being written down.  

“I was thinking…” Gabriel trailed off.  

“What?” Sam asked, not used to Gabriel being bashful all of a sudden.  

Gabriel cleared his throat and tried again. “That is to say…” 

“Come on, Gabriel, spit it out.”  

“Ok, ok. I was wondering…you totally don’t have to if you can’t or simply don’t want to, I can do it on my own, I just wanted to extend the offer in the event that maybe you did want to…well, pay for their wedding?”  

“Pay for their wedding. What exactly does that mean?”  

“It means exactly that Sammykins. I have experience with wedding planning and I can give them a party of a lifetime no matter the number of guests. It could be our gift to them.”  

“ You have experience with wedding planning?” Sam was surprised, not because Gabriel didn’t fit the bill, he definitely did but wedding planning required a skillset he wasn’t sure Gabriel had, including but not limited to being responsible, not screwing shit up for people, ensuring everything came out perfectly for the wedding party and having eons of patience.  

Gabriel threw him a mock glare before shrugging. “A lil bit.”  

“Not to be an asshole but do you have a portfolio of work you’ve done?” Sam had to ask. He was not going to let Gabriel do anything to turn Dean’s wedding into a clusterfuck. Still, Gabriel seemed to know his true intention because he rolled his eyes and got up and went over to the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a large blue binder before coming and putting it in front of Sam. “These are some of the weddings that I’ve done.” 

With some trepidation Sam opened the binder and then blinked in shock as he flipped from one laminated page to another. The weddings were extravagant. Humans posing as angels hanging from the ceilings, tapestries hanging to and fro, one even included trapeze artists mid-flight from one veil to the other.  

Some weddings oozed elegance, a term that Sam would never have associated Gabriel with; everything done in cream colored silks and long tapered candles. Others were the epitome of sophistication, done in blacks, whites and reds all sharp angles and corners, the picture taken of the room at a distance allowing the viewer to see how together it almost resembled a Picasso. In short, they were breathtaking.  

“You seriously did this?” Sam asked in wonder as he continued to flip pages. “Yeah. I lived in LA for a while and I did a wedding for a brother and since my family was in high social standing the people who were there loved opulence and could afford expensive. They loved my creation and just like that I found myself in high demand. When it came time for their weddings, they contracted me and basically from there it took off. I never even had to advertise. I was kept in business by pure word of mouth.” Gabriel finished proudly.  

“Was it for the same brother who called?”  

Sam didn’t miss the way Gabriel’s face shut down.  

“No, Sam. Anyway, now it’s just me and Cassie. So, what do you think about my idea?” He asked, moving on quickly, “I still have all the referrals from when I used to use certain companies. They’d give me a discount. We’re all still friends. I see them every time I happen to fly to LA.”  

Sam would have responded if he could. As it happened, his mind was still trying to catch up with the fact that for the first time ever Gabriel had called him Sam without any of the stupid additives and he was surprised by how disconcerting that was.  

Also, Gabriel went to LA? When? Granted, Sam really did only see him a few times a year but the way that Gabriel talked so much, always chattering about one thing or another, always just teasing Sam, he’d never noticed that he didn’t say anything of substance.  

In one afternoon he was finding out more about Gabriel than in the entire time he’d known him and it was unsettling to realize how little you could know someone that for better or worse (in Gabriel’s case, definitely worse) was part of your family. 

Who was Gabriel? The longer Sam thought about it the more obvious it became to him that he didn’t actually have a clue. His mind rattled off what little information it had.  

He was Castiel’s older brother. He had a shoppe, and he liked sweets. Try as he might, Sam was unable to come up with anything else. Years. He’d known Gabriel for years and he was just now realizing he didn’t actually know him at all.  

There was more to Gabriel than met the eye and it made him curious without knowing why.  

There was something not adding up and as much as he wanted to blame it all on the newfound information of not just one but two brother’s he’d previously not known about he’d be lying if he said there wasn’t more to it than that. Simply put the Gabriel he was getting to know was not the Gabriel he thought he’d known. 

In more aspects than the brother thing.  

Regardless of what he thought, however, he really wanted to bring up the brother thing again (his gut was insisting that everything that made Gabriel tick came from there) but he knew better. Gabriel had shut that down quick and Sam knew he wasn’t nearly good enough friends with him to be more invasive.  

Plus, he didn’t want Gabriel to be mad at him.  

Because reasons.  

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Gabriel’s words broke Sam out of his musings. And brought to his attention that he had indeed been staring at Gabriel. He blushed before averting his eyes. 

“Okay,” he said finally pushing the rest out of the way to focus on later, in depth, and without interruptions.  

“Let's say we give them a wedding. How much are we looking at, cost wise?”  

“It’s really going to depend on what style we go with. Elegance and extravagant will be costly although I can probably get it done for about $50,000. If we do a fun or less sophisticated wedding, I can probably get it down to $30,000 if not just a little bit over. We could always do a Vegas wedding and that would bring it down to maybe $20,000.”  

Sam held up a hand. “Stop. I’m not saying this because so far it’s the cheapest, I’m saying it because it’s Dean and I have a feeling Cas doesn’t care so long as Dean is there. Dean loves Vegas. He’d love a Vegas wedding. However, I have reservations about it still being a tasteful wedding. Would we be able to pull that off in Vegas?”  

“Definitely, Sammich.” Gabriel nodded, “I worked in Vegas for a while and I can tell you with certainty that Vegas caters to everything from trashy, practically no cost weddings to the most expensive ones you can find. For $20,000 we’d have one that covers the right trifecta, that is, tasteful, sinful, and pure Vegas.” 

“You’ve also worked in Vegas? What the hell did you do there?” Sam noticed with some relief that Gabriel was back to nicknames. He wondered if maybe Gabriel would consider his constant questioning intrusive but figured Gabriel was the type to not answer if he didn’t want to, politeness be damned.  

“When Cassie and I left LA, we could only go as far as Vegas. I had the money I had made from the weddings, of course, but after calculating everything for us two, I knew we couldn’t move too far just yet without running the risk of not having enough to last us two years. I figured Vegas would be perfect for someone like me, I have many gifts and talents.” He winked at Sam.  

He huffed out a laugh and looked pointedly at Gabriel until he got the hint and continued on with the story. 

“At the very least I figured I could become a stripper while Cassie finished school. Luckily, I didn’t have to. One of the hotels was having…essentially an open mic night but they were hosting it to offer a lucky someone their own show. I went ten rounds against other competitors and ultimately, I won. So, I played guitar or piano, mostly depending on my mood, and sang and danced my heart out Wednesday through Sunday nights until I gathered enough money to help Cassie with school in case his scholarships ran out or he didn’t make it on one for some reason. He never did.” Gabriel was smiling proudly now, a smile grin gracing his face as his mind flitted through the memories. 

“He studied hard, made the Dean’s list every year and I was able to take care of the rest of everything for us until he found a job. He found one here so I followed him when he moved here and after being constantly disappointed by everyone’s desserts, decided to go to culinary school and bake my own. The rest, as they say, is history.”  

Sam nodded to himself, deep in thought. He was right. Gabriel was an enigma. Sam hadn’t known anything about him and, well, he was feeling like a hypocrite. His job included talking to the community, public, police departments and fire departments and on the those occasions he’d focused on the importance of seeing beyond people’s exterior.  

He’d done the exact opposite. 

He’d seen what he’d wanted to see and something inside him twisted in the face of realizing how much he’d missed. 

He’d judged Gabriel terribly, unjustly and without cause. He could see now how Gabriel had earned every bit of dedication that Castiel deemed him with. He had never understood how someone so studious and serious like Castiel could put up with someone like Gabriel but now he understood it. Gabriel had done everything for his brother before ever doing something for himself. He’d earned Castiel’s respect and more than that, genuine love. The same way that Dean had earned his.  

Now more than ever he saw similarities between the man he’d despised and the brother he loved more than anything.  

“Sammy? You still with me? Or did I bore you with my life?” Sam laughed. “No, no. I was listening Gabe. That’s quite a story. I was just thinking how alike you and Dean are. Dean is basically the one who got me to where I am. If it weren’t for him, I’d ended up being a mechanic, like him. It’s not a bad field, of course, but it was never the life I envisioned for myself the way it was for Dean. Our dad insisted on it and when I said no and left for Stanford, I had a full ride for the class and accompanying aspects of it but not for food or housing, Dean followed me and worked his ass off to support us both even pitching in the last semester when the scholarship ran out as prices went up. He literally paid for Stanford out of his own pocket.”  

He sat back, once again overcome with how much he really owed Dean (it was something he didn’t like thinking about), before continuing, “that’s something I can never repay though I’ll never stop trying. Yes, let’s do this thing. Even if it ends up being over $20,000, I have the money for it and even if I have to carry more than half- I don’t know how well your store does- I will gladly do it.” 

Gabriel tried not to laugh. There were still so many things young Sammy didn’t know but he’d never tell. “I’ll be fine. My store does phenomenally. As it turned out, I wasn’t the only who thought the desserts here were crap…although we seem to have lost your business, Sammy.” 

Sam smirked. “Alright, alright. I’ll make sure it becomes my place, just…no putting sugar in my coffee ok?” 

Gabriel laughed. “You either know me too well, better than I’d like as it were, or you’re a hell of a lawyer, because loopholes and omissions are basically what I lived off of. Ooh! How about flavored coffee? Adds a little something extra without any added sugar. I-” he continued as he got up and headed towards it, “had actually started a pot of pecan pie for you before you got here and like a bad host, forgot that I had and you’ve been drinking the damn blonde. Dammit. It’s still on the pot thought, so it’s warm. Can I offer you another cup?” 

Sam hesitated before nodding his assent. He wasn’t having a bad time, might as well try it out. Especially since Gabriel had gone out of the way to do it just for him. He’s basically be wasting all that coffee if he said no and he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.  

Gabriel fixed two cups, making Sam grimace with the amount of sugar he put into his, (“Geez Gabe, you want some coffee with that sugar?”) before walking back and handing one to Sam. Sam blew into his cup before taking a sip.  

It was heaven.  

Literal heaven in a cup.  

“I always thought that flavored coffee meant the creamer was flavored or something. I can’t believe that I didn’t know actual flavored coffee existed.” Gabriel grinned at him. A warm genuine smile that Sam knew he’d never seen. Most of Gabriel’s smiles were sarcastic, playful, or full of mischief. Sam had never seen a regular smile on Gabriel until that moment.  

“I’m glad I could teach you something, kiddo.” Gabriel said, before taking a sip of his own coffee and moaning in bliss. Sam rolled his eyes.  

“How are you even that thin? You think with all that sugar you’d be a rolly-polly. Do you even workout?”  

There it was. The smirk firmly back in place and Sam knew he’d walked right into something.  

“Dear Sammich, I do plenty of working out.” he leered at Sam with a waggle of the eyebrows.  

Sam couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “You’re so ridiculous. You couldn’t be serious if you tried, could you?” Something dark passed through Gabriel’s eyes, so fast Sam almost missed (but didn’t because he wouldn’t be the ADA if he couldn’t read people’s emotions no matter how flitting). The intensity of it sent a shiver down Sam’s body. Yeah, Gabriel definitely had some dark (and apparently serious) secrets hidden.  

Unfortunately, he’d unknowingly tapped into Sam’s natural curiosity and... yeah, Sam was determined to find out what those secrets were. He wanted to know what made Gabriel tick. 

He blamed it on Gabriel. He must have laced his coffee with something. What else could be held accountable for the fact that with every passing moment he found himself wanting to know more and more about who Gabriel Novak was? 

Deciding to bring Gabriel out of his dark thoughts, Sam decided to hoist him on his own petard. Snapping his fingers obnoxiously in Gabriel’s face he loudly voiced his faux complaint. 

“Helllo in there. Did you forget about me?” Cue the whiniest voice he could muster.  

Just like that the light came back to Gabriel’s eyes as he laughed uproariously. His eyes shone gold and bright. The lights in the kitchen were hitting his hair at an angle that showed off all the different shades of everything between bronze and a warm aurum ore in such a masterful pattern Sam could have sworn the god’s themselves had weaved it.  

Sam smiled, his dimples making an unexpected appearance. Gabriel’s laugh was infectious and he found himself joining in.  

Gabriel smiled sweetly at Sam before grabbing his pen and writing Vegas Wedding up at the top of the sheet. “Alright, Samster. We’ve got the theme, only a million more things to go. I’ll take care of writing down everything we’ll need to take care of, off the top of my head and you’ll focus on listing the guests because I don’t know any people that you and Dean know. Let me give you this sheet”, he said, ripping out a sheet of paper and handing it to Sam before getting up and grabbing Sam a purple pen. “Here ya go, Sammy.”   

A few minutes of writing later Sam spoke up. 

“I feel like I’m coloring.”

Gabriel laughed.  

“Why?”  

“Well, because at work I can only use black or blue. Using a purple pen feels so out of my element I’m literally sitting here with my mind going through coloring memories.”  

Gabriel laughed again, “Yeah, it took me a while to get used to it too after I quit the job.”  

Gabriel immediately froze as he realized what he’d said.  

Holy shit, had he really said that? 

Sam went on high alert, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What job are you talking about now, Gabriel?”  

“Nothing gigantor. Just an old gig I use to have. How many names do you have so far?” Luckily that ruse worked to distract Sam who glanced down at his paper where he’d numbered all the names and responded with “45 so far and I’m only about halfway done. What have you got?”  

Gabriel exhaled in a shaky relief before responding, “Here, take a look. We’ll need a venue, decorations, flowers, wedding party, to find their tuxedos and ours or if the wedding party is going to be bigger, all of ours outfits, music, officiant, food, drinks, games if we want to have any, save the date cards and then official wedding and rsvp invitations, setting up a gift registry, booking a block of hotel rooms if all the guests would like to stay in the same hotel, their honeymoon and flight information. That’s pretty much all I have right now.”  

Sam sat back, impressed and slightly overwhelmed. “I really can’t think of anything else, but if either of us does later on, we can just add it. How about your guest list? For your and Cas’s family?” Gabriel was already shaking his head. “No. None of our family. However, Cassie may want to invite some of his coworkers. I’ll ask him about it after we let them know that we’re going to do it for them, ok? When should we do that, by the way? Will Deano take it ok?” 

Sam waved him off, “Yeah, he will. He might not seem like it but Dean is a total princess about things like this. He’ll be over the moon. Why don’t we invite them for dinner tomorrow night and we can tell them about it? I won’t forget my list and I can go over it with both him and Cas and see if we can settle on a date. How much time do you think we’ll need to get everything done?”  

Gabriel held a pensive look on his face as he ran over his own list before saying, “Probably six to eight months Sambino. And to be honest, even though that may sound like a long time, we’ll have to work very hard to get it done on time. Do you have any vacation time accumulated? We’ll probably have to go to Vegas at least once. If you don’t or can’t get away because of cases, then we’ll still have to go but we’ll have to go like on a weekend or something. It’ll be taxing for you. However, if you were to take, say, a week off, and don’t mind spending it with me, we could go for the week, hash everything out and come back. If we need to do anything additional there I can go on my own.” 

“Well, we’re in November now,” Sam said thoughtfully, carefully thinking everything through, “so lets say eight months. That puts us in June. When would we need to take the week off?”  

“In January.”  

Sam nodded. “Ok, I haven’t taken a vacation since I took the position so it’s been a couple years. I have plenty of time off available to me. I’ll put in for it now and we can go then.” 

Sam got up as he folded his paper into his pocket. “It was actually not too bad being with you Gabriel, but I’ve got to go and work on that deposition I was talking about yesterday.”  

Sam noticed when some of the light left Gabriel’s eyes. “Be, uh, be careful about that guy, ok Sammy? He’s ruthless. The stuff of nightmares. He’ll ride your ass til kingdom comes if he walks free.”  

Sam eyed him carefully. He clearly knew more about him than he was letting on. “You want to help me?”  

“I would if I were suicidal but alas…” Gabriel left it at that, smirk back in place but once again Sam saw through the mask. It wasn’t that Gabriel didn’t want to; it was that Gabriel was scared. There was something there and Sam was determined to get to the bottom of it. 

Chapter Text

Once back to his apartment, Sam took a moment to toe off his shoes and hang his jacket. He wasn’t the neatest guy ever but he wasn’t a total slob like his brother. Idly he pondered that it was probably Cas who was keeping their joint apartment clean now. As for himself, he wasn’t OCD about it but he liked things to be in their place. He licked his lips, tasting the coffee he’d drank back at Gabe’s and couldn’t believe how good it had been. Elixir of the gods indeed. He wondered if it would be weird to go back the next day and get some more.  

He shrugged. He had told Gabe he’d start going there again.  

Leaning down he picked up the brief he’d brought with him. Lucifer Milton had outlined a list of lawyers he was potentially working with and Sam recognized a couple of them but one stood out to him. Gabriel Milton. He wondered if he was Lucifer’s family and if so, where the hell was he?  

Sam had already done a search on him but it seemed that whilst the guy had been an excellent lawyer, winning all of his cases (an incredible feat that not even Sam could boast) during the years that he practiced, roughly six years ago he’d seemingly dropped off the face of the earth.  

Sam couldn’t find him for shit which could prove to be a problem if Lucifer decided to accuse him of purposely withholding the one lawyer that could get him off.  

Sam sighed and rubbed his face. This case was a mess, founded by mostly heresy and circumstantial evidence at best. The whole thing ran the risk of getting thrown out by the judge due to lack of evidence but more than that, Lucifer had been revealed to once upon hold his own law license and even though he’d never taken on a client he had used it to aid himself. And had won.  

More than anything that was Sam’s greatest fear. Lucifer declaring pro-se would truly make it a clusterfuck. As it was, the media was already having a field day with it, not to mention Lucifer seemed to have amassed a cult following of sorts and there were rumours going around that they would be protesting the treatment that a seemingly innocent man was receiving.  

Sam was all about human rights, he just wished they’d chosen someone that was actually innocent. They claimed that Lucifer was being mistreated as a common criminal without evidence. Dean had suggested that Sam release the photos of his victims.  

Sam knew he was in trouble when the idea sounded somewhat appealing.   

He dropped down on to the couch and kicked up his feet with a heartfelt sigh.  

Fuck. 

He’d have to go over the whole case again, maybe send some detectives to go out and re-canvas. There had to be something they were missing. Maybe a new clue could be found.  

Maybe they'd even find the City of Gold while they were at it. Or Atlantis.   

He looked at the list again. 

Gabriel Milton, where are you?  

Thinking of the name, took him back to his time spent at Gabe’s. His mind reviewed his time there and he got caught up on a single detail. Whomever had called had told Gabe he needed his “real services, not the baking bullshit”. What “real service” did Gabriel provide? Sam had originally thought that maybe Gabe was laundering money or something worse but after spending time with him Sam would be lying if he said he still thought the same.  

No way.  

Not Gabe. 

He was too much of a hard worker, had invested too much into his life to throw it all away.  

Nothing like Lucifer, he thought, his mind drawing parallels for reasons unknown.  

Lucifer Milton was accused of embezzlement, bribing officers, attempted murder and the final coup de grace, implications of two murders where he might not have been the one to pull the trigger but he’d clearly had ordered it done. The case had been dropped on his case when, much like serial killer David Berkowitz, Lucifer got a citation he never took care of. Some young cop, trying to become a detective, had run all the names against open cases and found Lucifer as a match for the aforementioned reasons. From there it had gone to a detective who was the one who brought it to Sam.  

Sam rubbed his eyes as he looked over the pictures of the murdered men. One had been shot, but one had been gruesomely chopped up. Who could do that?  

Sam had done a double major and the 2nd one was psychology. Naturally it took him back to those existential questions- was this criminal’s personality predisposition due to genetics? Or had it simply been determined strongly by the environment in which he lived in during early childhood? 

He wondered what kind of person Lucifer Milton was. He’d only met him once and it was in passing. He’d had to call Dean that night just to regain some semblance of safety.  

He’d been on the elevator when it stopped and in stepped Lucifer Milton, dressed impeccably in a tailored charcoal suit and with a dangerous glint in his eyes. Their eyes had met and Sam had stopped breathing for a moment. Milton had eyed him from head to toe before smirking.  

Sam felt like he’d been found lacking.  

The man radiated evil and danger and it took all of Sam to resist the urge to flee from the elevator before the doors closed and trapped him. Instead he’d drawn himself up to his formidable height, although Lucifer was no slouch himself, just a couple of inches shorter than Sam’s 6’4, nodded at Lucifer and stepped to the side allowing him space beside him.  

It wasn’t until they both reached the bottom floor that Sam had slowly exhaled his relief at having made it out alive and when the doors opened he’d (seemingly congenially) had motioned for Lucifer to go ahead, when the truth was that there was no way that he was giving his back to Lucifer.  

It was only then that Lucifer spoke. “Good day, ADA”. 

Lucifer nodded at him and stepped out, looking around for a moment before making a beeline for the exit leaving Sam behind who just watched him go, frozen in place until he was nudged by one of the cops.  

“Creepy, isn’t he?” Sam had nodded vigorously.  

“So much. Who is he?” 

“Lucifer Milton. He’s been accused of embezzlement, attempted murder and murder, etc. I’m sure you’ll get the file at some point.” 

“Why isn’t he behind bars already?” 

“Not enough evidence.” 

After seeing the pictures of the dismembered 22-year-old and having met Lucifer, Sam’s gut told him the man was not only capable but he was undeniably guilty. Unfortunately, Sam’s gut wasn’t enough evidence to get Lucifer thrown in prison and that all brought him back to his current issue.  

Again, he couldn’t help but wonder how Gabriel knew him. Maybe from Vegas? 

Sam reached for his phone with the intention of texting Gabriel and begging him for more information before stopping himself. Gabriel had been scared and it wasn’t a look that Sam liked on him. No, better he wait until he had no other recourse. For now, he was going to dig into Lucifer’s background and try to get into his world a little more to see if that lent any clues.  

That led Sam to his laptop and he flopped back on the couch, rolling his sleeves up whilst stretching his long legs out in front of him as he brought up the program to run a background check on Lucifer. As it loaded, he couldn’t help but desire for more pecan pie coffee from Gabe’s and from there he wondered if Gabe was “taking care of it” as he’d said he’d do about whomever had called him. Again, he hoped that Gabriel wasn’t in any trouble. Maybe he should also run a background check on him. As he thought about it, his computer program dinged, indicating that the background check was complete and ready to be read and he forgot all other thoughts as he dug in.  

An hour later, Sam stood and stretched, enjoying the feeling of bones popping as they settled back into their rightful place. He hadn’t learned anything that could help him really. Lucifer had three brothers, Michael, Raphael and Gabriel as well as three half-brothers but the background check didn’t include their names. He deduced that the lost Gabriel Milton was probably, as he’d thought previously, the long-lost family member who had been a lawyer. Something about the name Raphael triggered his senses but the thought was lost as soon as it was formed.  

Sam wrote on his notes to put in for a more extensive background check on Monday to try and find out the names of the half siblings. Maybe they or Raphael or Michael could lend some insight as to who Lucifer was or what made him tick. Hopefully they’d be ok with talking to him. Maybe he could try to get a summons for them as they could be crucial pieces of evidence. There was no evidence of a dad and the form only included an aunt, Amara. Sam jotted down another note to see if maybe he could talk to her too.  

That done, Sam decided he’d done enough for the case. He didn’t like to work too much on his personal time because he felt that was a recipe for burning out. He didn’t want to burn out, he was only 26. He planned to work in the field for a long time to come.  

Being a lawyer had been his lifelong dream since he and Dean’s mom had been killed. Their dad, may he rest in peace (not), had forced them to live on the road for forever, trying to find her killer to no avail. He’d been an alcoholic and abusive and although Dean claimed to miss the old man, Sam made no such claims. He didn’t. His family might only include Dean but he was just fine with that. There was something to be said for the parent when their child didn’t care that they were dead. If Sam ever had any children he knew exactly what not to do. His thoughts floated to Jess, the one Dean had rooted for from the get go, and he wondered how she was doing. Hopefully she was happy with Brady, his former best friend.  

Sam shrugged to himself as he made his way into his kitchen. He didn’t even wish them ill; he plain just didn’t care. Hell, if it hadn’t been Brady who distanced himself from Sam (further proof that they were guilty of going behind his back) they’d still be friends. Still, he supposed Dean was right, he needed to get back on the horse before his dick fell off from nonuse.  

There was a young PA at the office that had caught his attention a couple of times. Her name was Ruby and she was, to put it as Dean would have said it (before Cas, anyway), hot as balls. Lips that looked perpetually swollen, giving off a look that spoke of just been kissed senseless, dark locks that went nicely with her pearl colored skin and a nice body. Nothing like Gabriel who while having an ass, didn’t have boobs or lips like her…and of course, not that it mattered because Sam was straight so it wasn’t a worthy comparison anyway, although Sam could admit that Gabriel’s gold locks and shiny whiskey colored eyes were probably his best features. Sam was glad Gabriel kept his hair on the longish side too. Hair that color should not be cropped short.  

Sam’s stomach rumbled as he looked at his watch and saw that he’d been at it for hours and it was now 6pm and he had nothing to eat at home. Then the doorbell rang and he went to open it, puzzled because he’d looked through the peephole and saw nothing. Maybe, it was a delivered package although he hadn’t ordered anything recently. That gave him pause and he put his hand on the doorknob with some trepidation, images of the dismembered bloody limbs running through his mind when- “Oi! Sammich! I know you’re in there! I can see your car from here. Open the door Sammoose!!” Gabriel. It was freaking Gabriel.  

Sam opened the door and leaned against it casually crossing his legs and arms. “You realize you can’t be seen through the peephole. I have to stoop to look through the peephole and you’re not even tall enough to be seen through it.” Sam was somewhat amused as Gabriel glared at him. “I’ll have you know I’m average height you tall Moose.”  

Sam snorted. “What do you want short-stack? And how did you get my address?” 

Gabriel waved away his questions, opting instead to lift a hand holding a bag. “I figured you hadn’t eaten. I come bearing Chinese and two more desserts we can try out. Do you have milk, Samshine?” Gabriel asked, elbowing his way past Sam, without waiting for an invitation. Sam had no choice but to follow him, his traitorous stomach growling in pleasure as the scent of Chinese filled his nostrils.  

Gabriel took a quick look inside before heading quickly to the kitchen table where he immediately started taking items out of the bags and laying them out. He turned to Sam, “Milk, Sammy?”  

“You really want milk for your Chinese Gabriel? I have beer. I even have a version of Coke. It’s Zevia, no calories or sugar but tastes the exact same.” 

“You want beer with dessert, Sammykins? And I’m not even going to talk about your Zevia but no thanks.” He mocked shuddered.  

Sam looked at him firmly. “Food first, then dessert, Gabe.” 

Gabriel gasped comically, clutching his heart dramatically. “But Samshine! What if we die before we get to it? With if a comet comes and we didn’t even get dessert?!” He whined. Sam had to hide his smile. He had a 36-year-old man, in his house, whining like a petulant child all because he couldn’t get his dessert.  

“Uh, uh, Winchester. Don’t smile like that at me.”  

“Like what?” 

“Dimpled and shit. Don’t do that. As it is, I’m getting worryingly attached to them, Samshine.” 

Sam smiled bigger and this time let out a chuckle.  

Gabriel smiled back at him then turned and said, “I’ll try one of your soda monstrosities Samshine.” 

“That’s your favorite nickname for me, isn’t it?” 

Gabriel turned back to face him. “Duh.” He said in a very it-should-be-obvious-why, kind of way so naturally Sam had to ask. “Why?” 

A smirk came over Gabriel’s face. “Because you are my Samshine , my only Samshine , you make me happy when skies are gray. You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you, please don’t take my Samshine away .” Gabriel sang, cheesily swaying back and forth to the beat of the sappy song. 

Sam cracked up. “Jesus! Have I ever mentioned you’re ridiculous?” He gasped out, holding his stomach lest it cramp from laughing before he ever got to eat.  

Gabriel smiled his genuine smile at him again and the two stared at each other for a moment before Gabriel broke it and turned to finish taking items out of his bag. Sam’s eyes roved over his body. He had been wearing a jacket when he got there but that got discarded somewhere along the way. Now Sam could see a white fitted T that accented his biceps and his ripped back down to a tapered waist and snug jeans that cupped his ass and went down his shapely, albeit admittedly small legs. 

It was at that point that Sam discovered he was very much a fan of short shapely legs.  

“Um, Sammy?”  

“It’s Sam.” He said automatically.  

“Right. Well if you’re done checking me out, will you please grab those drinks and come sit down? Food’s getting cold.” 

“Checking you out? In your dreams, shorty. I’m straight, ‘member?” 

Sam turned into the kitchen to grab said drinks and napkins but he still heard Gabriel’s sigh and response. “So, you’ve said Samshine. So, you’ve said.” Sam couldn’t help but hear Gabriel’s quiet sad tone and that sorta stopped him short.  

Gabriel couldn’t possibly be meaning it every time he came on to him, could he? What was the point of that? Sam was straight for God’s sake. Why would Gabriel torture himself like that?  

Sam shook his head and continued his way to the fridge. He didn’t like the guy but maybe he could be his friend? Assuming that he kept his annoyances to a minimum.  

 
While they ate Sam and Gabe talked about this and that. Sam was slowly uncovering a little more about Gabriel and so far, he liked what he’d found. Whilst in Vegas, Gabriel had written a book, an autobiography or memoir of sorts, titled Heaven Sent as a nod to his real name even though he’d used the pseudonym of Loki when he penned it. He said he got a kick out of an archangel masquerading as the Trickster pagan god of Norse mythology.  

Sam got a kick out of Gabriel knowing both about angels and Norse mythology.  

Gabriel had then revealed that his coffee shop and bakery was a play on the book’s name and that was why he went as Loki there. Sam was impressed with the way everything about Gabriel appeared to come full circle.  

Sam wasn’t quite that imaginative, he confessed to Gabriel. He liked law because it was straight forward. It was all written, you just had to find it. His favorite part about it was the research, putting a case together, digging in the books and coming up with answers. He worked hard because he wanted to be a legacy and leave a legacy when he had kids. Gabriel had nodded at him before speaking, “But you’re already a legacy, aren’t you Sammy?”  

Sam didn’t even try to correct Gabriel on the use of his name at this point. It bothered him when other people said it because it took him back to being a chubby 12-year-old but from Gabe it was a term of endearment and Sam found he didn’t quite mind it as much as he thought it should or would.  

“How’s that?”  

“Well, you’re 26 years old, right? You’re the youngest ADA to ever ADA not to mention you have an excellent ratio of won cases. That’s a legacy in itself right there.”  

Sam swirled his beer around even though it wasn’t wine and he shrugged nonchalantly. “Maybe, but that’s not the legacy I want to leave behind. I want to leave behind a lot of bad guys in prison. I want to save people; I want to make a difference.” 

“Well, take it from me kiddo, you already are. Don’t get a hang up about it, you’ve been there for two years, right? Right after we met? You’re already doing phenomenally and you’ve what? Another thirty or forty years ahead of you? I believe in you Samshine. You will do it.”  

Sam smiled at him and then pointed at the dessert. “So? What’d ya make?” 

“Ooh Sammykins, is it finally time for dessert? A man after my own heart. Yay!” Gabriel clapped his hands excitedly bringing that familiar shine to his eyes that Sam was quickly growing accustomed to. Seeing them gave Sam the impression of liquid gold. It made him feel like he could drown in them. Not a bad way to go, Sam’s brain helpfully pointed out.  

Sam was straight although…thinking about his eyes like that wasn’t gay, was it? No, it was just one man complimenting another man’s eyes. Right. Yeah. That was totally done.  

“Samshine, we need milk.” Gabriel said, putting two small slices of cake on Sam’s plate and taking the two larger pieces for himself.  

Sam quickly shook himself out of his ridiculous wayward thoughts and went and got the blasted milk. “Don’t hate me but I only have unsweetened almond milk.” Gabriel’s head snapped up and he gaped at him. Sam shrugged, embarrassed. “What? I have dietary issues.” 

“Of course, you do.” Gabriel sighed, “that’s just my luck. You’re allegedly straight and you can’t drink nice creamy milk. I swear, Samarino, do you have any redeeming qualities?”  

“How about-” Sam pretended to think before snapping his fingers, “Oh, but wait, I don’t have to redeem myself with you because as you said, I’m straight. Not looking for anything with you, Gabriel.” he pointed out.  

That time his head was down as he was setting up their forks and didn’t notice the look on Gabriel’s face.  

A minute or so later he sat back down, putting a glass of milk in front of each of their plates and asked Gabriel, “You coming?”  

Gabriel quickly plastered a smile on his face. “If only.” He replied with a smirk. Sam rolled his eyes. “Well, you’re anything if not predictable. I’m so glad to be stuck with your ass for the next eight months.”  

Gabriel laughed although Sam couldn’t help but feel like it sounded fake.  

“Just eat up and shut up, Sammy.” Gabriel mumbled taking a bite of cake into his mouth and moaning loudly at his own creation. The noise sounded so sexual it made Sam blush and he arched a brow at Gabriel. “Shall I give you two a room?”  

“Jealous, Sammy?” Gabe asked, around a mouthful of cake. Sam pointed his fork at him. “Don’t chew and talk, Dean . Choose one.” Gabriel rolled his eyes at him but complied, resorting to looking between Sam and the two slices of cake pointedly like he was trying to tell him something. 

“Oh, yeah!” Sam laughed. Duh, they were supposed to be eating cake. Freaking Gabe distracting him with all those noises. He took a bite out of the first one and instantly had to hold back his own moan. It was so damn good. It was a chocolate mirror cake with raspberry in the middle. Something about this one slightly reminded him of Cas but not quite…Sam’s head snapped up. “I have an idea. Something that would be more Cas. What if you made strawberry cake with chocolate mousse in the middle, sorta like the chocolate covered strawberries he loves so much. Or…he loves pb & j’s. Is there some kind of peanut butter cake you could make that wouldn’t be too overpowering with like a blueberry or grape compote you could put in the middle to give it that pb & j taste?” 

Gabriel pointed at his mouth as he finished chewing and then spoke. “Samster, that’s a fabulous idea. With the strawberry cake, I can still do a chocolate mirror frosting and put some actual strawberry wedges on top so that they reflect on the cake. I’ll make both of them and we can try them before we meet up with them in the evening. Have you text Dean by the way?” 

Sam shook his head. “No, I forgot actually. I spent all evening working on my case and it must have slipped my mind. Let me do that right now. What’s that other cake though?” Sam asked, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. Glancing at it he realized that while he’d thought Gabriel had shown up uninvited, he had actually text him letting him know he was on his way with homemade Chinese. Sam turned to look at Gabriel who was sticking some of the other cake into his mouth. “You MADE the Chinese?” Gabriel looked at him, affronted like his question had offended him somehow.  

“Duh. What? You thought I bought it? Where have you tasted Chinese this good at before, Sam? Or are you insinuating that my Chinese tastes as mediocre as the ones around us?”  

Oh shit. He got called Sam. He was about to say something jokingly but the glare on Gabriel’s eyes as he narrowed those gold babies his way stopped him cold. Apparently, you could joke about a lot of things with Gabe but his food was not one of them. Now that he thought about it that Chinese was the best fucking thing he’d probably ever eaten and he couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized it wasn’t from around there before. He did the only thing he could do.  

Taking a deep breath he released the full power of his “big puppy dog eyes” (verbatim, per Dean) on Gabriel and earnestly said, “I’m sorry. I should have realized right away. You’re right, it doesn’t taste anything like what I’ve had before. Hell, it was better than my meals have been for as far back as I can remember.”  

Gabriel took one look at him and laughed, “put those away, kiddo. Damn, you should have those registered as weapons. Now I know how you win all those cases. You just turn those puppies on the jury, huh?” Sam smirked and sat back, satisfied that it had worked.  

“Smug looks good on you, Sammy.” Gabriel said quietly before winking at him. “But seriously,” he continued, scrunching up his nose. “what kind of trash have you been eating? And I forgive you because you’re not a food connoisseur, just don’t let it happen again Samshine, because I won’t be as forgiving. Anyway, next time you can come to my place and I’ll make you something different. Maybe something Mexican.” 

“Deal. Now what’s the other cake?” 

Gabriel’s eyes lit back up as he explained the intricacies of the next cake. It was a play on the pet-name Dean had for Cas who he called “angel” because of how Cas had introduced himself.  

“I’m Castiel, like the Angel of Thursdays, Dean”.  

Sam still remembers the way Dean’s eyes had lit up as he and Cas got into the first of their many many intense eye stares.  

He smiles at the memory before taking a bite out of it and while excellent and he could appreciate the play on words Gabriel had accomplished, it still didn’t quite say “Dean.”  

“It’s good,” he started slowly, remembering that Gabriel didn’t play about food, “but I’m still not quite sure it says Dean, although the play on words is nice.” Gabriel nodded. “My sentiments exactly. You know my other thought was to make a play on apple strudels. What do you think of that idea?”  

Sam nodded excitedly. Right away that said Dean to him. “Would you be able to make that as well for tomorrow? Then we could taste it with the two other cakes and see which pairing goes best together?”  

Gabriel bit his lip in contemplation before answering. “Yeah, it’ll be a tight squeeze but I think I can get it done.” 

Sam drank the last of his milk then stood up along with Gabriel and in tandem they put things up, working in silence as they washed and dried the dishes and wiped down the table.  

“Thanks for letting me in Sammykins. I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?” 

Sam suddenly had the urge to give Gabriel a hug. He really didn’t care for the times when the light left his friend’s eyes.  

Still, he was straight and Gabriel was admittedly pining for him. It wouldn’t be fair to him to give him any pointless hope.  

Instead he forced his arms to stay by his sides and he nodded stiffly at Gabriel before walking out behind him, anxiously chewing the inside of his lip. He watched Gabriel put on his white puffer jacket and silly Christmas earmuffs (“It’s a little early for those isn’t it, Gabe?” “It’s never too early for Christmas, Samshine.”). 

Standing back and seeing Gabriel covered up did something to the insides of Sam. He looked so small and beautiful, the gold in his hair shone brightly under the hall lights. Sam had half a mind to pick him up and curl him up by his side. Of course, he couldn’t do that, Gabriel was a male and Sam wasn’t gay, but still, Sam couldn’t help but wish for a moment that Gabriel was a female. He’d be in trouble if he had been.  

“Well, I’m off Sammy. Don’t forget to text Dean. Bye, gorgeous, have a good night.” Sam received one final wink and then Gabriel was gone, leaving Sam standing in the foyer wondering why all of a sudden his apartment felt bereft, empty and cold.  

It took Sam a long time to fall asleep that night. 

Chapter Text

The next morning Sam wakes up with one thought in mind. Leaning over to grab his phone, he sends a quick text to Gabriel.

-Gabriel, why would pineapple eat you back?

He watches as the bubbles come up immediately, indicating that Gabriel is responding and he waits, resting on one arm, half up, half still lying down, his other hand holding the phone and his legs are tangled up in his sheets.

-Morning gorgeous. Hope you had sweet dreams, I know I certainly did. ;)
Pineapple has an enzyme, Bromelain, that digests protein, so when you eat pineapple, it’s essentially eating you back. But you know, gigantor, I’d eat you anytime, Bromelain be damned.

Sam snorted and rolled his eyes before responding with the usual.

-I’m straight Gabriel. No one will be eating anyone. Anyway, how do you know so much about it? Because you’re a cook?

-Don’t knock it til you try it, Samshine. And I’m not a ‘cook’, I’m a fucking badass baker and chocolatier. NOT a cook. And no, my young padawan, many moons ago I was pre-med. Bromelein has been used in research for the cure of cancer and pineapple is the only known natural source of it. I think it stuck in my mind because, hello, food.

Sam thought it was impressive that Gabriel had accomplished so much and was obviously very intelligent even if it didn’t appear as though he’d finished med school, although Sam was very interested to know why. He shot him a quick text back before getting up and getting ready for his run.

-You and me are talking, buddy. How are we friends and I literally know nothing about you? Pre-med?! Next you’re going to tell me you also went to law school!

-It’s a date, Sammich. :)

Sam grinned and it wasn’t until after his run and subsequent shower that he became aware of the fact that he hadn’t refuted what Gabriel said. Sam just shrugged it off, eh, surely Gabriel knew that the only type of date he’d be going on with him was a friend one. He was, after all, straight.

Sam looked through his closet for clothing before heading over to Gabriel’s. He could really go for some pecan pie coffee right about now. He selected a pair of jeans he’d never worn before because he purchased his size without trying them on and didn’t notice that they were skinny jeans instead of the regular loose fit jeans he normally wore. He really needed to start paying better attention, this was the 3rd pair of skinny jeans he’d purchased due to that.

For some odd reason he felt like wearing them today. They looked good on him if he did say so himself, making his legs seem impossibly longer and showing off his runners thighs and he turned to check out his ass. He smirked to himself. Gabriel would blow his shit when he saw them in these. He paired them with a pair of calf skin boots he rarely wore and for a shirt he went with a tight white t that would show off his own rippling pectorals and fit back muscles. A little payback for the shirt Gabe had worn the previous day.

Smiling to himself, Sam gathered his jacket from the closet, grabbed a beanie to cover his head and after making sure he had the essentials (phone, wallet, keys), he headed out.

His car was the first purchase he made for himself when he started getting regular paychecks as a lawyer. He didn’t share Dean’s love of the classics, he preferred modern cars and he loved his car, albeit not to the unhealthy amount that Dean loved Baby. It was a souped up Dodge Viper, dark purple in color with black leather everything on the inside. It went 0 to 60 in seconds and from time to time he enjoyed leaving Dean’s baby in the dust when they partook in playful racing. He almost didn’t consider it because he thought it would be like other small compact cars that didn’t quite fit his tall frame but he’d given it a chance and it was surprisingly roomy on the inside.

Idly, he wondered if Gabriel would like it. He didn’t even think Gabriel drove. He felt like all the times he’d seen him, he’d either been dropped off by an Uber or he’d been driven by Dean and Cas. Hmm, Sam made a mental note to take his friend out for a drive. Maybe they could drive to Vegas vs flying. Sam didn’t have the qualms about flying that Dean did but he couldn’t deny that the idea of a road trip with Gabriel sounded like it would be fun. The short man was a lot more interesting than Sam had given him credit for and for the first time in, well, ever, Sam was actually looking forward to spending time with the man.

As he drove, his thoughts turned to the case. There was something about it that was triggering his senses, like he was on the verge of a major breakthrough but he couldn’t figure out what it was. Even if it felt like it was staring at him right in the face. He sighed, good mood gone replaced by an irritated one. What the fuck was it, goddammit?

He pulled into the parking lot a little sharper than he intended and from the car next to him (a Lexus with red leather interior, he noticed with interest) exited a good looking man with a square chiseled jaw and blue eyes, his hair was almost as long as Sam’s own and he stood at the same height. He had a beard and was dressed in a sharp navy blue suit that accentuated his eyes. He frowned at Sam as he unfolded his long legs and stepped out of his car. Sam was about to apologize for his behavior when the man turned and walked into the shop, not even polite enough to hold the door open for Sam. Rude, thought Sam, opening the door and walking in.

Once inside he took in the scene in front of him. Gabriel was in a corner, singing and playing softly into a mic whilst people milled around, on their laptops, phone, etc, while others read books and others seem to be studying. Some people seemed to be there simply to take in the atmosphere and were sipping their respective drinks while they watched Gabriel perform. Sam stood by the door where he was and listened to him, letting the music wash away the last vestiges of his self directed anger.

“Black hole sun, won’t you come, wash away the rain?
Black whole sun, won’t you come, won’t you come?”

The song was one Sam recognized from his own playlist, by…Soundgarden if he was remembering it correctly. He liked that he and Gabriel seemed to have the same taste in music.

He watched as Gabriel finished then got up and put his guitar on the stand, thanking everyone who was clapping and taking short little bows while he made his way back to the counter to take care of Sam and the tall man in front of him.

“Hey Milo.”

Sam was startled that Gabriel apparently knew the man in front of him.

“Hi baby.”

Um, the fuck?

Sam heard Gabriel’s laugh.

“Sorry Milo, my heart already belongs to another.”

“But our date went so well, Loki baby.”

Sam’s irritation was back and stronger than ever. How could this dressed up man who drove a Lexus for crying out loud really think their date had gone so well when he apparently didn’t even know Gabriel’s name? And what was Gabriel doing with someone like him? Was it the Italian accent that Sam could so clearly hear? Was it that he screamed money? Was Gabriel into him because he could be, like a…a…a sugar daddy or something? But Gabriel had said his store did well so probably it wasn’t that…

Something snapped in Sam and he walked around the counter, put an arm around Gabriel’s waist and kissed his head.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He said softly. Gabriel’s head snapped up, stunned and then slowly it turned into mischief.

“Oh, no, my Moosey. I want a proper greeting.” And with that his arm snaked around Sam’s neck, brought him down and gave him a kiss right on the mouth.

It startled the shit out of Sam who definitely did not enjoy how soft Gabriel’s lips were, because, you know, he didn’t even notice them, since he was straight and all. He stood there, stock still for a second and then snapped out of it when he heard the same Italian accentuated voice speak up.

“This is who holds your heart? He’s wearing a beanie, for crying out loud. Come on, mio tesoro, you can do so much better. I am much better.”

Sam yanked his beanie off and ran a hand through his hair. If there was something he could count on when it came to his hair was that as soon as he ran a hand through it it fell perfectly back into place. “Milo” noticed his maneuver and narrowed his eyes. In turn, Sam smirked and then turned to Gabriel and slowly pulled his jacket zipper down, puffing up his chest and standing erect to show off his body. He worked damn hard for it and knew it looked good even when he didn’t use it for outrageous situations such as this one.

He slowly took off the jacket and stood there in his white v neck before crossing his arms, making his chest stand out even more. He sneaked a glance at Gabriel and saw that Gabriel’s pupils were dilated and he was flushed. Sam smirked at the man and in a quick move stooped and grabbed Gabriel’s legs and sat him on the counter before gently lifting Gabriel’s head and bringing his own face in, placing the lightest of kisses on Gabriel’s lips.

Sam barely heard Milo muttering in the background, something about getting the hint and was leaving, Sam didn’t care he was going in for another kiss when he felt Gabriel’s hands on his chest, pushing him back and- “Samheart! You can stop now. He’s gone.”

It was like a bucket of cold water had been thrown on Sam. What the fuck had he done? He didn’t even like Gabriel. He was fucking straight, dammit. He wasn’t gay. What the fuck was he doing? He almost left but then Gabriel’s voice registered.

“Thank you for saving me Sammykins. I went out on one date with him but he was too possessive for my taste. Unfortunately, he doesn’t want to take no for an answer. Damn Sammy, that was a hell of a show. Took all my will not to wrap my legs around your waist. That’s my favorite move, Sammy. Keep that in mind for when our time comes.”

“I’m not gay, Gabriel!” Sam snapped, suddenly irritated with the whole thing although he didn’t know why. “And even if I was, I would never be with YOU! I don’t like you remember? When will YOU take no for an answer?!”

As soon as the words were out of Sam’s mouth he knew he’d made a mistake. He chanced a look at Gabriel but Gabriel wasn’t looking at him. He was looking toward the door that led to the kitchen. He headed that way and just threw over his shoulder, “Come on Sam, I’ll have you try these three cakes and then you can be on your way. You look like you’re going on a date, I don’t want to hold you up.”

Sam could literally feel his heart breaking. He’d gone too far and now Gabriel’s voice held none of the playfulness that it usually did when directed at him. It was detached like he was talking to a stranger. And the worse part? He called him Sam.

Ashamed at himself he meekly followed Gabriel in through the kitchen, catching sight of his tapered legs in the stupid skinny jeans and had to swallow hard as he remembered Gabriel’s statement about him going on a date. He wasn’t going on a date. He’d put on these blasted things for Gabriel, he realized. To fuck with him, taunt him with what he couldn’t have, but the joke had been on him. He recognized the emotion he’d felt when Milo was calling Gabriel baby. It was jealousy. But why? He didn’t want Gabriel as a partner, he wasn’t gay, so what was it? He didn’t want him to have other good looking friends?

Gabriel’s voice broke Sam out of his thoughts. “So with the peanut butter cake, I put a grape compote as the frosting. I still feel like it’s a bit strong though. Cassie would love it but I don’t know that everyone else would. If you feel the same, maybe I can still make it for him, but, like, for his birthday or something, not his wedding. I feel like the strawberry and chocolate mirror cake nails it for him though. I was running a little behind so Dean’s cake is still baking but it should be done in about five minutes. I bought you some unsweetened almond milk, it’s in the fridge, or if you want some more pecan pie coffee, I made you some before you arrived, it’s on the pot. Now if you’ll excuse me, Alfie is on his break so I need to go man the front.”

And with that Gabriel left, leaving Sam looking down at the two small pieces of cake that once again Gabriel had so thoughtfully cut, specifically for him. Sighing, Sam picked up one of the two forks there were lying there and tasted the peanut butter one carefully. Gabriel was right, Cas would love it but Sam couldn’t stomach more than just a couple of pieces of it although he had to admit that putting the jelly as a frosting was an ingenious idea. One he’d never would have thought of but Gabriel had because Gabriel thought outside the box. He was creative and imaginative in ways that Sam could only ever hope to be.

Sam went and got a cup of coffee and took a sip to get rid of the peanut butter taste. Ahhh, pecan pie. It was too good.

Placing his cup down, he picked up the other fork and tried the chocolate mirrored strawberry cake, scooping a fresh strawberry into it as well before bringing it to his mouth. Damn that was a good cake. Definitely this one, he thought.

Remembering that he still had Dean’s cake to try out and figuring that would be better paired with milk, Sam walked to the cooler and pulled out the milk, noticing that it was the same brand that he used. Again he was struck by the of Gabriel going out of his way to make him feel more comfortable. That wasn’t something Sam was used to. Even Jess had left him to fend for himself, had left him to his own devices. He had never been with something like Gabriel, who seem to, at each turn, place Sam’s wants above his own. And how had Sam repaid him? By being an ungrateful bastard, spewing hate at him when Gabriel hadn’t even asked him to step in.

Sam’s stomach churned as he poured some milk for himself and sat down to wait for the other cake to be done, idly picking and tearing up the leftover peanut butter and jelly cake as he mused. His mind wandered back to Milo and he wondered where Gabe had met him and where they had gone on their date. He wondered what Gabriel had worn and what they had talked about. Milo seemed like the fancy type whereas Sam’s current outfit was about as fancy as he got and he’d never even dressed like this for Jess. He wondered if Gabe had also worn a suit and how he looked in it. In his mind’s eye, he could see Gabriel in a tailored suit, hair combed back to give him a regal look. Maybe some gold cufflinks to match his hair and eyes.

“I think it should be ready.” Gabriel spoke as he came back in through the door, walking towards the oven and peering into it before opening the door. The smell of apples permeated through the air and Sam knew Gabriel’s idea would be a hit, especially with Dean. Sam watched a Gabriel carefully pulled it out and laid it on the counter.

“Normally I’d say lets wait for it to harden a bit before we ate it to get the proper feel of the crust consistency but right now we’re going just for taste, so lets go ahead and eat it. Which of those other cakes did you prefer?”

This was killing Sam. No petnames, acting like a perfect stranger. He hesitated before speaking softly, “Gabriel, I-“ Gabriel put up a hand to stop him. “It’s ok, Sam. I got it. I should be the one apologizing for trying to make you be something you’re not. It’s not your fault. And you’re right, we aren’t friends but hopefully for our brother’s wedding we can still work together and be cordial, after all after the wedding you won’t have to see all that much of me anyway. What do you say, Sam? Temporary truce?”

That was totally not what Sam wanted but he could do nothing but helplessly nod in agreement. He missed Gabriel already. The real Gabriel, not this…this…POD PERSON, for crying out loud. He was going to fix this. He didn’t know how but he would.

“So? Which cake, Sam? Peanut butter or strawberry?”

With a heavy heart, Sam pointed at the strawberry cake. “This one is perfect, Gabe. Everyone is going to love it.”

Gabriel smiled at him but it wasn’t his regular smile, it was a perfunctory one, the smile not quite reaching his eyes. “That one it is. Oh and Sam, if you come around here again, please call me Loki. There’s a reason I don’t go by Gabriel here.”

Sam could only nod his acquiescence. Gabriel hadn’t told him that before. It looked like he’d officially been downgraded to a common customer. Sam’s heart sunk even further and he suddenly wondered if it would be as easy to fix as he’d sorta thought it would. He had thought maybe a smile or two later and Gabriel would be back. That didn’t appear to be the case. I’m fucked, he thought. Truly fucked.

He watched Gabriel pick up a piece of his cake and put it into his mouth chewing it contemplatively sans any of the previous moaning before he quietly got a piece of it himself. It melted in his mouth and he couldn’t help but let out a tiny moan. It was so fucking good. Dean was going to love it and although it didn’t exactly compliment the chocolate and strawberry cake, it was still too damn good to pass up.

He opened his eyes to see Gabriel watching him, an impassive look on face and Sam smiled tentatively at him. Gabriel simply averted his eyes and picked up both plates, walking them to the sink. “I take it you liked it?”

“Oh, yes.” Sam said immediately. “You’re incredible Gab-I I mean, Loki. If you ever want to figure out a cake for me and you, I’ll gladly be your guinea pig.” He added on, hoping beyond hope that Gabriel would take his bone.

Unfortunately for him it didn’t work. Gabriel completely dismissed it. “Ok, good. Well now that we have that settled, I’ll see you later on tonight and we can tell Dean and Cas about us paying for their wedding.”

Shit. Sam had forgotten to text his brother.

“Sam, I have some stuff to do or I’d walk you out but I think you can find your way out easily enough. Bye.”

With that Gabriel turned and went deeper into the kitchen, leaving Sam to stand there alone in his thoughts. He truly felt like shit and now he was going to have to go to the diner and sit next to Gabriel and not be able to…what? He wondered. Technically he was getting his wish. Gabriel wouldn’t be bothering him anymore. He should be happy. Hell, he should be ecstatic. So why wasn’t he?

He sighed before walking himself out, texting his brother all the while. Before he even reached his car, his brother had text back the affirmative. Now what? Sam wondered. He’d sorta figured he’d be here with Gabriel, talking, until it was dinner time. Now he had several hours free and nothing to do with them.

Sam sat in his car, contemplating the fact that he had, without even thinking about it, actually planned on spending his whole day with Gabriel. Who he wasn’t even supposed to like. What was going on with him?

Chewing on his bottom lip in contemplation, Sam pulled out of the parking lot and headed to the mall. Christmas wasn’t until the following month but somehow he wanted to buy Gabriel’s gift now. He wrote off his desire to not being like Dean who procrastinated and could be found running around the mall like a chicken with its head cut off, frantically on Christmas Eve. He was simply being proactive, dammit. So what if he started with Gabriel? It didn’t mean anything.

Again, the thought came to mind that the previous year he’d pointedly not gotten Gabriel anything even though he’d known he’d be present. Gabriel had been the one to gift him the beanie he’d worn that day. Prior to that, Sam had never worn a beanie and upon receiving it Sam had made a face at it and put it to the side without even thanking Gabriel. God, he was truly a dick. Gabriel had to be some sort of saint to put up with all that.

The only reason he’d ever even tried on the blasted thing was because one day it had been particularly rainy and he didn’t want his hair to frizz when it dried again. He’d been surprised to actually like it when he’d caught his reflection. It was the same dark purple of his car and he wondered if that was why Gabriel chose it. Knowing him the way he did now (had it only been three days?) Sam knew that probably was the exact reason why.

Sam was on the freeway when he noticed a black truck getting closer and closer to him. Sam figured the driver was probably on his cell phone and sped up to put some distance between them but the driver sped up as well. Sam’s brow furrowed. He sped up again, this time with some trepidation as he knew he was coming on a major curve that didn’t offer a ditch but rather a cliff. If he spun out…

He slowed a bit but the truck just kept coming. Sam was on a two way road and there were oncoming cars from the opposite side. He couldn’t move but he also couldn’t speed up. He checked the rearview mirror again only to find the truck riding his ass. He was going to get hit.

Sam bit his lip and closed his eyes, bracing himself for the inevitable impact but it never came. He peered one eye open and let out a sigh of relief when he saw the black truck had backed off. Maybe the driver had just been distracted after all.

Sam arrived at the mall without any further incidents, the truck long since having pulled off. Close encounter forgotten he pulled his car into the Dillard’s parking lot, figuring he’d start there and if he didn’t have any luck, he’d try Nordstrom’s. If they didn’t have what he was looking for he’d be forced to try jewelry stores. He hoped it didn’t come to that though, he didn’t really like visiting jewelry stores. He felt like jewelry there was always overpriced and he didn’t like that if he found something he liked but then told the sales person it was too expensive they would lower the price. Why didn’t they offer that price to begin with? It was irritating and made him feel like what he was getting wasn’t actually worth as much as he wanted it to be worth.

Dillard’s offered a nice selection of gold cuff links but somehow they didn’t say Gabriel to him. He wasn’t even sure what exactly he was looking for, he just knew those weren’t it and figured he’d know once he came upon them.

Nordstroms had an even smaller selection (and higher prices) and Sam walked out into the mall, somewhat dejected when he caught sight of the sign for Neiman’s. He figured he’d give them a try even though he knew the prices there would be even higher. It didn’t matter, Gabriel deserved it.

He walked in and headed directly for the men’s jewelry case, bypassing the cologne section and the attendants trying to get him to smell their colognes. He didn’t want cologne for Gabriel. Gabriel always smelled a little sweet, like the sugar he consumed, and Sam liked him just like that. He didn’t want to cover up his scent.

It was there that Sam found the perfect gift for Gabriel. Neiman’s had a selection of specialty items. Cuff links in shapes of cars, hearts, even women, but what they also had, that was SO existentially Gabriel they practically screamed it, were gold wing cufflinks. Finding them gave Sam goosebumps with how perfect they were. Gold to match his eyes and hair, wings because he was Gabriel. It would match his bakery, his book, and his name. They were perfect and Sam couldn’t wait to see the look on Gabriel’s face when he opened them.

Sam was almost leaving when he realized something important. For all that he found cuff links, he didn’t actually know if Gabe had ever worn a suit. The whole situation had been a figment of his imagination. What if he didn’t actually have a shirt that used cuff links? That had Sam heading to the men’s clothes section and after browsing for an exhausting thirty minutes or so, Sam again found the perfect shirt. It was white and had small gold threads interwoven at random intervals. It wasn’t gauche as the strands were minute but they would compliment the cufflinks (and Gabriel) nicely and although Sam had to guess at Gabriel’s size he was pretty sure it was dead on, barring Gabriel gaining or losing substantial weight.

Satisfied with his purchase, Sam looked down at his watch and was surprised to see that almost three hours had passed. He’d never spent so much time at a mall before, not even for himself. He really needed to get home to change. He wanted to dress up a little for dinner, maybe it would bring some of Gabriel’s inappropriate comments back.

Sam was walking back through Dillard’s, with the intention of heading back out, when he realized it had been a while since he bought himself any new clothes. All of a sudden he wanted to buy a new shirt, hell, a whole new outfit. He stopped short and looked around. By some luck, he was actually in the suit section and a young man was heading towards him.

“Can I help you find something?”

Sam almost shook his head but then thought better of it. He could use some help and two heads were better than one after all.

“Sure. I’m going to dinner tonight and I want to look nice.”

“I can definitely help you out with that. Is it a casual dinner or a fancy one?”

Sam hesitated. “Well, it’s at a casual diner but… well, I’m not going in a suit but I don’t want to just go in jeans either.”

The man nodded at him. “Sure. Have you considered dark wash jeans with a casual suit jacket?”

“I hadn’t but that actually sounds perfect.”

“Ok, I’ll help you out. My name is Kevin, by the way. What’s your name?”

“Sam.”

“Ok, Sam. Let’s start with pants. Are you thinking blue jeans? Because we also have white jeans and black jeans. If you go with a casual black jacket, black jeans paired with it can look really nice.”

Sam’s face reddened before he even opened his mouth. “Can they…um, can they be skinny jeans?” He felt foolish, a grown ass man in skinny jeans. But Kevin didn’t even bat a lash.

“Sure. And since it’s at a diner, if you want, they can have a ripped knee. Unless you want them to be fully covered, we have some that have faux rips on them.”

“I’ll try them all on and you can help me figure out which look best. Maybe I’ll get two pairs.”

An hour and a half later Sam finally walked out of Dillard’s, new clothes in hand. He’d ended up with three new pairs of skinny jeans, two black, one blue, two casual dinner jackets and three new shirts.

He couldn’t wait to go home and get dressed for Gabriel. As a friend. He just wanted to look nice for his friend. That was normal and not gay at all…right?

Chapter Text

Sam walked in to the diner exactly at 7pm and immediately spotted Gabriel who was looking down at the menu. He made a beeline for him, anxious to see the look on his face when he saw him only to be interrupted.

“Sam! Hey, Sam!”

Sam turned his head to the right to see Ruby waving his way, looking gorgeous in a red dress and black strappy heels, diamond chandelier earrings hanging from her ears and bangles of diamond bracelets on her wrists.

“Hey Ruby.” He said a little sheepishly. He’d never gone to work looking the way he did currently. He’d ended up wearing black skinny jeans with faux rips, a whiskey colored shirt that reminded him of Gabriel’s eyes that had black stripes and his new black casual jacket. He wore the same brown boots he’d worn earlier and his hair was brushed within an inch of its life and it hung in soft waves framing his face. He’d caught a glimpse of himself and he knew he looked pretty damn good.

“Damn Sam. You’re looking mighty fine tonight. Hot date?”

Sam’s eyes flit over to Gabriel and she caught the direction he was looking in.

“Oh! I didn’t know you were gay.”

Sam’s eyes went back to her and he shook his head emphatically. “No! I’m not gay. Not that I have a problem with it,” he hastened to explain. “My brother’s gay. I’m not on a date, I’m here to have dinner with my brother, his fiancé and his fiancé’s brother.”

“Ah, I see. Well, maybe you’d like to have a drink with me, afterwards?”

Sam smiled at her, appreciating how her own dark locks curled and framed her face and nape. She had it pulled to one side, exposing her creamy neck on the other.

“Sure.” He said. “That’d be great.”

“Great. I’ll be waiting on you.”

Ruby turned to walk away and Sam watched her go before looking up to see Gabriel again. Gabriel was facing his direction, lips pressed into a thin line, eyes dark but as soon as Sam turned and made eye contact with him, he quickly lowered his face again. Sam sighed. Gabriel hadn’t made any sort of reaction to his outfit. Or most likely he already had and Sam had missed it. Dammit.

He walked quickly towards him, hoping to get a chance to talk to him before Dean and Cas got there but he’d only taken one step when Dean tapped him on the shoulder.

“Damn Sammy. Hot date?”

“No, Dean. Just…trying something new.”

Sam’s traitorous eyes went once more to Gabriel who was still deeply engrossed in the menu (apparently it was a very interesting menu, never mind they’d been coming here, to The Roadhouse, for ages and each of them knew every single item the menu held). When Sam turned back to face Dean, he caught sight of Cas’s face. He appeared pensive, head tilted to the side, eyes squinty as though he was trying to see what Sam was thinking.

Sam blushed. He wasn’t thinking anything bad for the love of God. And why were they still standing there when there was a perfectly good booth for them to sit at?

“Come on, let’s go sit down.” He muttered to Dean before continuing his way to Gabriel. He made his steps long, wanting to beat Castiel to the booth. Normally he sat next to Dean and opposite Gabriel, whilst Cas sat next to Gabriel and Dean was across from him. Not this time. This time he wanted to sit next to Gabriel.

He slid into the booth and finally there was a reaction from Gabriel. It was a look of surprise but Sam took it. “Hi, Gabe.” He said softly.

“Hey Sam.”

“You sitting with short-stack today?” Dean asked as he and Cas reached the table, narrowing his eyes at Sam (probably for taking away his opportunity to stare into Cas’s eyes). Sam shrugged and turned his attention back to Gabriel.

“You hungry?”

Gabriel shrugged and took a sip of his water, something that surprised Sam as he didn’t think he’d ever seen him drink water. It was usually something sweet and surgery.

“Not really.”

“YOU not hungry? Is hell freezing over? Is the world ending? Is this the apocalypse?” Dean asked dramatically.

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean’s theatrics and tried to catch Gabriel’s eye in a can-you-believe-this-guy way. But Gabriel wouldn’t meet his eyes. Sam had to do something. Say something. His mind raced as he frantically tried to think of something to say.

“I bought this shirt today because it reminded me of your eyes.” He blurted out, reddening immediately.

For a beat Sam thought Gabriel was going to ignore that too but then he turned and looked at Sam for a second and his eyes roved over the shirt before looking back up at him.

“It’s a nice shirt.”

“They’re nice eyes.” Sam grinned wildly, winking at Gabriel, heart racing as he gave him an opening for whatever innuendo Gabe wanted to throw his way. He was happy to hear the compliment from Gabriel’s mouth. His eyes flit down to said mouth as he remembered the soft lips and the kisses. Man, if only Gabriel were a girl. If only he were gay. It was really too bad that he wasn’t. Gabriel was a great catch.

“So? What’s the occasion? Why’d you guys want us to come out?” Dean asked, looking between him and Gabriel.

“Y’all getting together or something?” He went on, not seeing both Sam and Gabriel flinch.

“I’m not gay, Dean. Not the whole world is gay, you know.” Sam said harshly.

“We would like to pay for you and Cassie’s wedding and we wanted to let you know that and that we’ve already found the flavors for the perfect cakes to match both of you.” Gabriel interjected, bring the conversation back to its proper place. Sam couldn’t help but think that if it had been before he’d opened his stupid mouth, Gabriel would have taken that opening and ran with it. Instead, now he was being exactly what he’d said he’d do. Being cordial.

Fuck being cordial, thought Sam as he looked around the place trying to find something, anything, to bring Gabriel back. He spotted the stage where the dj for the evening was once again playing country music. A couple of people were dancing and although Sam couldn’t dance much, he could two step.

“Come on Gabe.” He slid out of the booth and held his hand out to him. Gabriel looked at him in askance and stared at the outstretched hand before looking back up at Sam who waved his hand at him to take.

“Come on. Dean, order me a chicken salad, hold the onion and for Gabe an Oreo milkshake and all the desserts. It’s on me.”

“Sam, there are, like, ten desserts on the menu.” Dean argued.

“Just do it. He has to do research you know.”

“Where are y’all going anyway? You can’t just drop this piece of news on us and then go. What the hell man?”

Sam took a deep breath and finally spared his brother a glance.

“We’ll be right back. We just have to do something first. Gabe. Come on.”

Finally, FINALLY, Gabriel accepted his hand and Sam’s heart stuttered. It was warm and soft and fit perfectly in his hand. Once out of the booth, Sam didn’t let go of it, under the pretense of guiding him.

He took him to the dance floor and then turned to Gabriel. “May I have this dance?”

Gabriel looked shocked.

“What the fuck are you doing, Sam?”

“Just one dance, Gabriel.”

Gabriel stared at him for a moment then gave him one nod and Sam did what he’d been wanting to do since they’d had Chinese. He gathered Gabriel up in his arms and held him close, one hand resting firmly on the small of his back and the other hand held Gabriel’s hand. It was perfect and Sam hoped this would make his friend come back to him. It’d been less than a day but Sam missed him more than he could have ever thought possible.

“I’m sorry I’m not gay.” Sam stooped and told Gabriel in his ear.

Gabriel stiffened and stopped dancing.

“Sam, for a smart guy you’re a fucking idiot.” He turned and walked back to the booth and left Sam on the dance floor.

Sam watched him walk away and got angry. What the fuck was Gabriel’s problem? He was sincerely trying to apologize for not being able to reciprocate the shorter man’s feelings and how was he repaid? By being left on the goddamn dance floor. It wasn’t his fault he wasn’t gay. It wasn’t for lack of trying, he just didn’t feel that way about him. Was that really so wrong?

Sam felt a tapping on his shoulder and when he turned Ruby was there, arching a brow at him. “You sure you’re not gay?”

“No.” He said with finality. “I’m not.”

She stared at him for a second before a Cheshire Cat grin came over her face. Something about it made Sam uneasy, like she was sizing him up as thought to see if he was easy pickings. His back stiffened slightly.

“How about that dance?”

Sam looked over at Gabriel who was picking at the dessert in front of him and he shook his head. “We’re here to go over some wedding business. I’ll find you once we’re done here. I better get back.” Sam left her there, standing on the dance floor, in much the same way he’d been left.

He slid in next to Gabriel, itching to put his arm around him but he knew he couldn’t with the way things were right now. He inhaled and slowly exhaled.

“Why are you so dressed up Sammy?” His brother asked him.

Sam forced himself to rein in his running emotions as he picked up his own fork to start on his meal.

“Just felt like blowing some of that money I work so hard for Dean.”

“And you just felt like dancing with Gabriel?”

“Knock it off, Dean. We’re here to talk about the wedding as Gabriel said. We’d like to pay for it. Gabe here is awesome at pretty much everything and weddings are in his repertoire. We’re taking y’all to Vegas!” Sam tried to inflict as much enthusiasm as he could at the end.

Dean bought it because he let out a big whoop and hugged Castiel’s neck, which made Cas blush. Sam felt momentarily jealous. He wished he had a relationship like that. Maybe Ruby… he chanced a glance at her and found him staring at him, a slight smirk on her face. Ruby was beautiful but there was something slightly deadly about her that he couldn’t get past. Maybe he needed to give her an actual chance instead of coming up with his own assumptions. Maybe she could be the one.

Sam took a swig of beer to chase away the acid that filled his stomach at the thought of spending the rest of his life with Ruby. He didn’t even know if she was funny. Before Gabriel he wouldn’t have considered lame humor or smirky innuendo a must but now… he glanced at Gabriel on his left again. He was smiling at Dean and Cas but Sam could see the tension behind his eyes again. When he’d started to learn Gabriel so intimately he didn’t know but he did and he found he didn’t want to be rid of the knowledge of what made Gabriel tick or smile or laugh. For a split second Sam wished he were gay just so that he wouldn’t have to see Gabriel suffer but he quick shook the thought out of his head. He wasn’t gay. People didn’t just become gay. Although Dean sorta had, his mind supplied unhelpfully.

Dean had only ever been with women although he’d looked at guys before but none made him take the leap until Cas. Dean said there was something otherworldly about Cas, a statement Sam hadn’t understood until now. Gabriel was the same. Magnificent and ethereal. Like if he could be the real archangel Gabriel, gold wings (or that’s how Sam imagined them anyway) spanning wide behind him.

The problem was that Sam hadn’t even looked at guys before so the chances of him being gay were extremely slim to none. There was simply nothing he could do.

As the rest of the table talked details, Sam’s mind drifted. He thought of the case, the upcoming holidays, the gifts he’d bought Gabriel, other this’s and that’s but most of his thoughts were around Gabriel himself.

Maybe he just needs a good night sleep, Sam thought. Maybe by the next day, when Sam planned to go in for more coffee, he’d be different.

Sam’s thoughts were interrupted by a flash of red and he came back to earth to see Ruby standing in front of him. He pushed his annoyance back. He’d told her he’d find her dammit. What could she want?

“Hey, Sam, sorry to interrupt but my friends are wanting to leave but I told them this tall glass of water owed me a dance. Any chance you’re up to it now? Or should I take a raincheck?”

“He can go!” Dean piped up for him. Sam threw him a bitch face but didn’t want to be rude to Ruby.

“Sure.” He said, sliding out of the booth. As he did so, he caught sight of Gabriel who was looking down again, smile long since gone from his face. Sam sighed. There was nothing he could do for it. He wasn’t gay, Gabriel would just have to get used to that.

Sam placed his hand on the small of Ruby’s back and guided her to the dance floor before taking her in his arms. She was soft, in a different way from Gabriel, but ultimately she felt nothing nothing like him and Sam would be lying if he said he didn’t miss Gabriel in that moment. The thought made him look over Ruby’s head at their booth only to see Gabriel exiting the booth, coat in hand. He waved at Dean and Cas and exited the restaurant without even glancing Sam’s way.

Even though that ate at Sam, the rest of the evening went pleasant. Dean and Cas ended up leaving two songs later and waved good-bye at them still from the dance floor. Ruby was a good dancer and she was the correct height for him to do the two or three fancy moves he knew. His long arms let him dip her low to the ground every time a song ended and she was light enough to pick up and place around his waist. This is more like it, Sam thought. This is how it’s supposed to be.

They ended up closing the bar and when they went back for their things, Ruby realized her friends had left. Rather than having her order an Uber, Sam offered to take her.

She lived in a plush townhome and after accepting her invitation for a nightcap, he followed her in to see that it was all monochrome, black, white, gray and some red. It wasn’t exactly homey but Sam found it matched Ruby. She was beautiful but not exactly homey. Being there with her made him have the impression that he would always have to be “on”. No proper relaxing, no chilling and pizza, no beer but whiskey or wine. And worst of all, no laughter.

Sam had been trying to make her laugh all night, even throwing her some of the stupid lines Gabriel had used on him to no avail. She didn’t even roll her eyes at him, just simply ignored and disregarded them.

And yet, here I am, Sam thought somewhat moodily, taking a sip of the wine she offered him.

He was sitting on the couch and was surprised as hell when she sat on top of him, slowly, giving him the chance to say no, gently taking the glass from him and settling it on top of the coaster (of course there was a coaster) on the table next to them before taking Sam’s face and bringing her own in for a kiss. She tasted of wine and something sweet. Somehow it didn’t seem fitting. If it had been Gabriel it would have fit but with her, Sam would have expected something a little more…tart.

Upon realizing that his thoughts were gearing towards Gabriel again, Sam forcefully pushed them out. He was with Ruby. Whether it was just for the night or for a while remained to be seen but while he was there he was going to enjoy himself.

Adding a little force into the kiss, he let his hands roam over her body and a few minutes later she lifted her dress and ground down on his erection. Sam lifted them both to take his wallet out and take a condom out of it. He was a little on the larger side so he made sure that he carried his size with him otherwise he really wouldn’t ever have sex. He didn’t want to impregnate a woman or get STI’s so he made sure he always used a condom and while some women carried them, they weren’t ever the XL’s he needed.

Sheathing himself and the spitting on the head of his dick he motioned for Ruby to scoot forward again. He gave her a kiss and a few seconds later, she lifted herself and sat right on his dick in a way that had him gasping out loud. Usually women had to stop and let themselves adjust to his size but not Ruby. He was already balls deep in her in a single move. He changed his mind. She was definitely a keeper.

An hour later Sam left, whistling softly to himself when he neared his car, he spotted a note on the windshield. That’s weird, he thought, trying to remember if it had been there when they’d left The Roadhouse. He was pretty sure it hadn’t been, even if he hadn’t seen it surely Ruby would have.

Sam removed the note and turned it over, turning the light on his phone so he could see it. What he saw made him shiver and jump, looking around nervously, wondering if the culprit was still there.

“Be careful, Mr. Winchester. We’re always watching. Lovely brunette by the way.” Underneath it was a crude drawing of Sam sitting on the sofa with Ruby on top of him, head leaned back in mock ecstasy, breasts pert, a disturbingly good rendition of them.

Sam stood there shocked, thinking about what his next move should be. He thought about going back to warn Ruby but he didn’t want to scare her this late at night. The next day he could ask her to his office and break the news to her gently. Yeah, and while at it, he’d filed a report then too. No sense in having the cops come out now. He hadn’t seen anything nor had he heard anything. It was literally just the piece of paper. Although it could have fingerprints, he supposed. As carefully as he could he folded the paper back up and put it on the passenger seat so he wouldn’t forget about it the next morning. And with that, Sam drove home.

Chapter Text

When Sam entered Scent From Heaven the next morning, Gabriel was sitting by the mic in the corner, guitar in hand, eyes closed as he played the intro to a song Sam had never heard. He wanted to watch the performance and let people go in front of him while he waited to see what song Gabriel had chosen.

“Another shot of whiskey, please bartender. Keep it coming til I don’t remember at all how bad it hurts when you’re gone.

Turn the music up a little bit louder, just gotta get past the midnight hour. Maybe tomorrow it won’t be this hard.

Oh, who am I kidding? I know what I’m missing.

I had my heart set on you, but nothing else hurts like you do. Who knew that love was so cruel? And I…I waited and waited so long for someone who’d never come home.

It’s my fault to think you’ll be true

I’m just a fool.”

Sam blinked back tears. He knew, he KNEW Gabriel was singing this because of him. Maybe he shouldn’t be here anymore. He couldn’t keep causing Gabriel pain, just because he was straight. Quietly, Sam turned and walked out of the coffee shop.

He couldn’t even fathom going into the Starbucks. He sighed and kicked a pebble before getting back into his car and making his way to the office. Fuck it, he’d just have some of their nasty coffee there.

The day passed quickly for Sam. He filed his report and had an officer sit in while he brought Ruby in and had to gently break things to her. As expected she’d been horrified and he wondered if she’d think he was too dangerous to be around however for lunch she’d brought him a salad from his favorite place and the two shared an amiable time (although she still didn’t laugh at any of his “jokes”) until it was time to get back to work.

On his way home from work Sam was once again assaulted by the same black truck, getting too close to him. What put Sam on edge was that it was on the same stretch of road as before. This made it less accidental and more on purpose. That, combined with the note he’d received was making Sam very nervous. Who had it in for him and why? He reviewed the cases he was currently working on and deduced that the worst one was Lucifer Milton and dammit, he’d forgotten to put the request in for an in depth background check to try to find the names of the half-siblings. Instead he’d used his time pulling a basic background check and tax returns on Gabriel.

While not the best use of his time, not to mention it made Sam feel hella guilty, like he’d broken Gabriel’s trust somehow, Sam now understood why Castiel had made the comment he had when Sam displayed cynicism at Gabriel’s profits from a little store. It was, in fact, not a little store. Rather, it was one store of thirteen, under the umbrella of a corporation called Baker’s Dozen. Once again, Sam appreciated how much thought Gabriel seemed to put into his names although to be honest, he was a little surprised that he hadn’t kept on track with the angel theme.

Overall the whole think struck Sam in a weird way. He’d known Gabriel for almost two years now. How was it that he literally knew nothing about him? He’d never asked him anything about himself and had foolishly accepted Gabriel at pure face value, that was to say, nothing deeper than the innuendo and the perpetual smirking. How could he have been so stupid?

The next two and a half weeks passed by in a blur. He and Ruby went on more dates and while he was enjoying himself it was only to a certain extent. There was something missing and it bothered him that he couldn’t quite figure out what. Not to mention there was still something about her that put him off.

The same day that he’d called her in to explain about the note he’d found a weird glint had entered her eye. It wasn’t like he could call her out on it, what would he say, after all? “Hey my spidey senses are tingling”? He snorted. He sounded ridiculous.

And now, she’d basically invited herself over to his Thanksgiving. He’d given in because it’d be rude otherwise but he couldn’t feel like he was doing something wrong to Gabriel.

Gabriel who hadn’t reached out to him at all in that whole time. Gabriel, whom he’d almost called time and time again but never went through with it because he was a chicken shit. But what could he say? What could he possibly say to someone whose heart he’d broken? Maybe though he was giving himself too much credit. It wasn’t like Gabriel had reached out to him either, something that surprised Sam because he’d initially been hesitant to Gabriel having his number, imagining non-stop crude texts and jokes. Instead there was nothing. Complete radio silence. Sam couldn’t help but think that that was somehow worse.

On the upside, Sam finally had an excuse to text him. It had come to him while he was asleep, as though even then his subconscious was still seeking Gabriel out. Bachelor parties. When Gabriel had made up his list of things they needed to prepare, bachelor parties hadn’t been included.

On second hand, Sam wouldn’t text him. He wanted to hear Gabriel’s voice, see him. He decided he’d call Gabriel, tell him he needed to talk wedding and then go over to the shop. Plan made, Sam pulled out his cell phone only to be stopped by Ruby entering his office, without knocking. Again.

He’d already politely asked her to cease doing so but she continued on and it bothered Sam, especially because she always seemed too interested in his case. Not all the cases but the one involving Lucifer Milton. And although he’d told her time and time again that he couldn’t talk about his cases, she continued to ask and he continued to lie. She worked at the damn office, of course Sam could talk to her about the case. He just didn’t want to.

Weird shit kept happening to him too. He’d been getting increasingly worried about his safety the more the case traversed. They’d found one witness who’d gotten a good look at Lucifer Milton (he’d recognized him from an advert on tv) and the day that Sam was doing his due diligence and getting a sketch artist prepared, the witness disappeared. What concerned Sam about this was that literally the only people he’d told about the witness could be counted on one hand, Ruby being amongst them. So now he was treading lightly. He clearly had a mole on his team and he didn’t know who.

“Hey Sam.”

“Yes, Ruby?”

“It’s almost time for lunch, want to join?”
Sam looked up at her, absentmindedly twirling the pen between his fingers. That day she was looking especially exquisite in a cream colored suit that offset nicely with her olive complexion. She had a type of mauve lip color on that accented her lips in the most provocative manner and when Sam had been in the restroom earlier, he’d overheard one man talk about them to his buddy. Dick sucking lips he’d called them. Sam’s mouth twitched upwards. He would know. Still.

“No, thanks. I’ve got some stuff to do.” Her eyes narrowed slightly but the look quickly went away as she smiled sweetly at him. “Ok, Sam. Have a good lunch then.”

He nodded at her and looked back down at the case notes he’d been looking at when he’d been distracted with thoughts of Gabriel. He pointedly did not look at his phone. Ruby didn’t care about sounding jealous or psychotic or not. She did not hesitate to ask him who he was talking to or texting and he didn’t feel like saying Gabriel to her. As it was, she had already mentioned he talked about him a little too much for her taste. Sam disagreed. So there had been a couple of moments where he’d commented on what Gabriel would think about the desserts of the restaurants they visited or the time when they passed a street performer, singing and playing and Sam described, as well as he could, how different Gabriel’s voice was from anything he’d ever heard. How it sounded like the a melodious harmony of thousands of voices coming out as one. These comments did not constitute as “too much talking” about Gabriel in his humble opinion.

Once the door was closed behind her he got up and locked it before going to sit back at his desk and quickly searching Gabriel’s contact before pressing call. As he did so, he noticed his breath quickened, his palms got sweaty and he got butterflies in his stomach. Could he really be this excited about talking to Gabriel? How had he gone from completely not liking the man to looking for an excuse to call him?

“Hello?” Sam was caught off guard by how dull and lifeless Gabriel’s voice sounded.

“Are you ok?” Sam asked, genuinely concerned.

“I am.”

There was a pregnant pause in which Sam thought Gabriel would elaborate but he did not. The silence stretched a little longer until Sam couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Can I come over?”

“For what?”

Sam had intended to say that it was about the wedding but that’s not what came out of his mouth.

“Because I want to see you. I miss you.” Sam said honestly.

Gabriel let out a self-deprecating bark of laugh that sounded hollow to Sam’s ears.

“Sure, kid. Just make sure you remember my name here.” And with that, the line went dead.

Sam eagerly jumped up from his seat, locked up his case notes, grabbed his jacket and then locked his office behind him. It wasn’t a precaution he normally took but since coming to the conclusion that someone in the office was a sell out, it was one he’d started taking. He didn’t want anyone to mess up with his case. He wanted Lucifer to be behind bars for a while, if not forever. Someone like him didn’t deserve to be out, walking free.

A quick glance around the office told him Ruby was already gone. He breathed out a sigh of relief. Had she still been there she’d’ve been asking questions and he didn’t feel like answering them. It was none of her business who he hung out with, they weren’t that far into their relationship. Besides she probably wouldn’t take too kindly to him hanging out with Gabriel and Sam had to see Gabriel. He missed him. It had already been over two weeks since he’d seen him for the love of god.

That thought gave Sam some pause. He’d known Gabriel almost two years and in that time he’d felt annoyed by the two or three times he had to hang out with him but in a span of two days, Gabriel had completely won him over, so much so that the thought of going another two weeks without seeing Gabriel destroyed Sam’s heart. Hell no. He wasn’t going to allow that. He was going to clear the air with Gabriel, make it very clear he wanted to be his friend and take it from there.

The thought of seeing Gabriel on a more frequent basis added some buoyancy to Sam’s steps and he eagerly took stairs two at a time, his long legs easily eating them up as he made his way into the parking lot, unlocking the door before he’d even reached it, jogging to it when walking seemed too slow and made quick work of closing the door behind him once he was in and doing his seatbelt.

As he got closer and closer to Gabriel’s shop his heartbeat sped up. He was almost there. He was about a block away when he spotted Gabriel outside, sweeping. He narrowly missed a truck that seemed to come out of nowhere and had it not been for his current lead foot would have certainly hit him. Sam didn’t give it another thought as he pulled in to the parking lot and jumped out of his car, exuberant.

“Gabriel!” He exclaimed, happily, the moment making him forget Gabriel’s request of his name. Without even thinking about it, Sam bounded over like an overgrown puppy and wrapped his arms around him broom and all, breathing his scent of all things baking all the while the thought that Scent From Heaven definitely applied as he squeezed Gabriel in a tight hug.

“Um, Sam?” Gabriel said, voice muffled where his face was pressed into Sam’s jacket.

“Yes, Gabriel?”

“Kinda need to breathe, you big oaf.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” Sam blushed a deep red as he realized what he’d done and he released Gabriel, immediately missing him as he let go.

Apparently being around Gabriel loosened his mouth and his blush deepened even as the next words spilled from his mouth. “I missed you Gabriel.”

Finally some mirth entered the shorter man’s eyes. “Yeah, I got that. Pretty sure my ribs got it too. What’s up, Sammy?”

“It’s-“ Sam opened his mouth to correct him but thought better of it. “Actually Sammy is fine. Call me whatever you want.”

“So long as I call you?” Gabriel asked drily.

“Yes.” Sam answered earnestly.

The two stared at each other for a moment, Sam taking in Gabriel’s face and red nose.

“Boop.” He said, uncharacteristically tapping Gabriel’s nose.

His nose scrunched up, making the corners of Sam’s mouth twitch up, a dimple peeking out.

“You been smoking, Sammy?”
Sam shook his head. “No. I just appear to be very very happy to see you. Also, your nose is red. I couldn’t resist. Perhaps I should call you Rudolph.” He said, teasingly.

Gabriel laughed, the sound going all the way into Sam’s belly, warming him from the inside out and he didn’t notice that his grin grew.

“Come on nerd, I have some coffee for you inside. I made you gingerbread this time. Also, what happened to your car?”

It took Sam’s brain a minute to catch up. “What’s wrong with my…” His voice trailed off as he turned to look at it and sure enough, keyed on the passengers side, the side he hadn’t seen until now were the words written in all caps: WATCH OUT. It read.

Sam sighed, shoulders sagging. “All this weird shit keeps happening to me, Gabe. I think it has to do with the Lucifer Milton case.” Since he was still looking at his car, idly wondering if he should call the cops now or wait until he was back to the courthouse, he never saw Gabriel’s shoulders straighten or the way his eyes took on a dangerous glint. By the time Sam turned back, his face was back to nonchalant.

Gabriel motioned to the door. “Come on in, Sammy. You can tell me what’s been happening while I pour you a cup.”

Sam made a beeline for the door opening it for Gabriel. “Ladies first.” He winked at him, enjoying the rosy hue that filled Gabriel’s cheekbones. Gabriel looked down right adorable, in a large puffer jacket and a scarf. The whole thing dwarfed his body and Sam thought he looked like a little kid who needed to be kept warm.

“You warm enough there, Gabe?” He asked, putting an arm around his friend and pulling him close.

“I am now.” Gabriel smiled at him, without mischief or snark. It was the rare smile that Sam had seen. The real one. The one that seemed to be solely for him. Sam smiled back and the two headed to the back where Gabriel proceeded to unwrap himself and hang his stuff up. Sam took off his jacket and placed it on the back of his chair and undid the button on his suit jacket.

His heart felt like it was bursting. He felt at home. He felt-

“So, what’s been happening?” Gabriel’s voice broke through his mind, reminding him of the situation outside. Sam ran a hand through his hair as he started to explain. He paced the kitchen floor as he told Gabriel about the multiple incidents with the black truck, about the note, about the witness and his suspicions, and now about his keyed car. By the time he was done, he was sitting on the counter, long legs dangling as he took a sip of the coffee Gabriel had at some point handed him. He liked being here with Gabriel, talking to him about his day, his case. He felt relaxed which was another thing he didn’t share with Ruby.

“Mmmm!! This is so good. I can’t decide whether I like this one better or the other.”

“Personally the gingerbread is my favorite.” Gabriel said shyly, looking down into his own cup.

“Gabriel.”

Sam’s voice took on a serious note as he remembered what he’d come here to say and he placed the cup to one side.

Gabriel looked up at him.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Yeah, I gathered as much. You didn’t need to come here for it though, Sam. You coulda sent me a text.”

Back to Sam. Fuck.

“I was serious when I said I missed you.” Sam snapped. “I came to apologize. I want us to be friends but I came to explain that I hope you, I want you to accept that relationship with me. I can’t make myself gay, Gabriel. You can’t fault me for that. But I missed you. I really did. I miss all your Gabriel-ness. Your inappropriate jokes, your stupid names, your baking, all of it. I miss it and I miss you. You’re little and cuddly and you fit oddly well underneath me.” As soon as the words were out of Sam’s mouth he clasped a hand over it.

Gabriel started laughing so hard, tears leaked out of his face. Sam was the reddest he’d been in his life but in that moment he didn’t care. All he cared was that he’d made Gabriel laugh and eventually he started laughing too.

“Ok, that came out extremely wrong.” He said between breaths.

“Yeah, no shit.”

Then- “And Sammy?”

“Yeah?”

“I’d be on top.” Gabriel wriggled his brows at him and Sam blushed again at the mental image that conjured but he grinned nonetheless.

“You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

“Maybe I just need a big strong moose to shape me up.”

“Yeah, yeah. Keep dreaming short stack.” Sam replied, enjoying their banter.

Gabriel winked at him. “Every night.”

“So!” Sam said, clapping his hands together. “I was asleep the other night when my subconscious came up with something not on your wedding to-do list.”

Gabriel arched a brow. “Really? I left something out? What was it?”

“Bachelor parties, Gabe!” Sam grinned wildly, unable to keep a smile off his face now that he was here with his- with Gabriel.

“Oh damn, you’re right. Bachelor parties are a must.” Gabriel’s eyes glazed over. Sam narrowed his eyes at him. “If you’re thinking of men in the nude right now, I’m getting up and walking right out that door.”

“Careful, Sammy. Your ‘straight’ is showing.” Gabriel reminded him. Sam sat back, a little stunned at his own emotions. What was he thinking? He was, as Gabriel had said, straight, yada, yada. He felt annoyed with his own yo-yoing emotions. He wasn’t stupid, he couldn’t claim to be straight and then get jealous, because yes, that’s what he’d felt, jealous at Gabriel.

“Sorry, Gabe.” He muttered.

Gabriel huffed out a laugh. “It’s not skin off my bones, kiddo. Let me know when you switch teams. As I told you before, I’d climb you like a tree. Give you the ride of your life.”

And wasn’t it telling that at one point the very idea of it made Sam want to retch and now it made his pants tighten?

Sam blushed, taking the coffee and putting it back in his hands, where he could use it to hide his face. He glanced at his watch. Fuck. It was almost time for him to be back and he hadn’t even eaten. He sighed.

“Almost time?”

Sam nodded dejectedly.

“Want some food?”

Sam looked up. “You have anything here besides sweets?”

Gabriel laughed, the smile reaching his eyes. “Yes, Sammy. A man cannot, although I do my best to make it be, live off of cake alone. Come on, sit at the table. I’ll make you a sandwich. For fruit I have pineapple, blueberries, and blackberries, oh and- you know what? I’ll just make you something and you’ll eat it, how’s that?”

Sam smiled and nodded. He was surprised by the knowledge that he trusted Gabriel with preparing his lunch. Gabriel knew what he liked. And if Gabriel made it, Sam knew he’d love it.

“We still have a lot to discuss, Gabe.” Sam said, pointedly not looking at Gabriel’s ass as he bent over and dug through his refrigerator.

“I know Sammy but you don’t have time and neither do I, really. I’m supposed to be baking right now.”

“Well…you did promise me Mexican food.” Sam said, inserting just a hint of guilt into his voice. Gabriel’s head peeked out and he smirked at him. “Really? Playing the guilt trip card?”

Sam smirked back. “Whatever gets me tacos.”

Gabriel’s smile widened and he nodded. “Alright. Sure. I’ll make you tacos. Do you know where I live?”

Sam shook his head.

“Ok, I’ll give you the address before you leave.”

Sam sat there quietly, watching Gabriel put together his sandwiches, going as far as toasting the rye bread for him and including an over-medium egg in each one. “Because you’re a growing moose Sammykins.” He’d said when Sam asked why. The use of the nickname, at last, loosened something in Sam’s body.

Spending his lunch with Gabriel? That was the best lunch Sam could ever remember having.

______________

Gabriel watched Sam get into his car and leave before going back inside and heading straight to the back.

“If you need me, don’t come get me. I need ten minutes.”

Alfie stared, shocked. He’d never heard that tone of voice on his boss. For the past couple of weeks he’d seemed a little down but right now he sounded downright murderous. He glanced back to the door where the taller man had gone through. Was it him? Had he done something to Loki? Alfie bit his lip nervously. He hoped everything was ok.

In the back, Gabriel wiped his palms as he stared at the phone. When it came to his family there were a lot of things he let slip by, a lot of things he was willing to allow to slip by but Sam Winchester wasn’t one of them.

Taking a deep breath, he straightened his shoulders and dialed.

He hadn’t called his brother back despite his insistence and now here he was doing it himself and all for Sam “I’m Straight Gabriel” Winchester. He shook his head at himself. He’d tried to stay away but clearly Sam felt something for him and Gabriel was patient enough to wait. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t have fun with it, he wouldn’t be Loki if he let an opportunity to tease Sam go by, no, he’d seen Sam get jealous twice now. Who knew his dear old Samshine could be so possessive? Gabriel liked it.

A voice in his ear yanked him back.

“Gabriel. It’s about fucking time you called.

Gabriel bit his lip before responding. It was now or never.

“Lucifer. We need to talk.”

Chapter Text

Sam drove back to the office at a much more sedate pace than previously. He’d had so much fun with Gabriel it made him sad for all the time wasted in the previous years. Years he’d missed out because of his own arrogant misconceptions. There was no way to make that time back up but he’d sure as fuck make the most of their time now.

Before he’d left, Gabriel gave him his address and he was making tacos for Sam that very night even though they’d see each other in two days, for Thanksgiving. Sam had to figure out a way to break it to Gabriel that Ruby would be there. Sam sighed. He wished there was a way to uninvite Ruby. Hell, he should have not accepted her request to begin with. He was the ADA for God’s sake. He could take control of any argument, it was something that helped make him so good at his job, so why had he accepted hers?

And now his car was keyed and he was going to have to waste more time reporting the incident. He felt in his bones that it was someone working for Lucifer Milton who had done it. He’d ask the police if they could pull video from the parking lot. That reminded him of the black truck that had almost hit him and with a jolt Sam realized it was the same truck that had been trailing him a few times. That truck meant to hit him, Sam was suddenly sure of it. If it hadn’t been for Sam’s excitement to get to Gabriel’s…if he had been driving at regular speed…fuck.

Sam went on alert, eyes spanning each road and back alley, making sure he wasn’t being followed and that no one was going to come at him again, thoughts racing in apprehension. This case was getting crazy. The shit that was currently happening to him was shit he thought only happened in movies. He hadn’t thought he’d be a part of it.

His phone rang, making him jump in the air, when he saw it was his brother.

“Hey Dean.”

“Hey Sammy.”

“What’s up, Dean?”

“I’m calling because we haven’t seen you that time at Roadhouse. I miss you little brother. Why haven’t you called me?”

“I’ve been working a lot, Dean. And Ruby demands a lot of my time. Blame yourself, she was your idea anyway.” Sam said, accusingly.

“I said yes for one dance. Don’t be a bitch. If you don’t like her, cut her off. It’s not like it’s hard.”

Sam sighed in aggravation. “I know, I know. She’s just…insistent.”

“Most chicks are. You seeing her tonight or do you want to have dinner with us?”

“No, thankfully. I’m having dinner with Gabe.”

There was a silence on the other line and Sam took a quick glance at his phone to make sure the line hadn’t cut off.

“Dean?”

“Be careful there, alright, Sammy? He, um, he really likes you.”

Warmth spread throughout Sam’s chest.

“I like him too.”

“But not like that, right?”

“No. But we talked it out today. I think we’ll be alright.”

“If you say so. Just don’t hurt the guy. Cas told me he was engaged once before. Took him a long time to get over her.”

“Her? Don’t you mean him?”

“He’s not gay, Sam. He’s pan. He’s got this corny theory about souls loving each other first, the body they inhabit doesn’t matter.”

“Huh. That’s surprisingly insightful of him.” Sam replied, stunned at the beauty of the words Gabriel felt to be true. Sam wondered if-

“Yeah,” his brother went on, effectively cutting off his thought, “Cas said he’s really smart. He was pre-law or pre-med or both or something before everything went to shit with their family.”

“Pre-law? Really? Are you sure, Dean?”

“Hey man, I’m just telling you what Cas has told me.”

“Man, if he were a girl I think I would be in love with him. Gabriel is really awesome. I just, you know, don’t swing that way.”

“If you say so, little brother. Anyways, I’ll be off. Just wanted to call and make sure your bitch ass was ok.”

Sam snorted. “Whatever, jerk. Yes, I’m fine. I’ll see y’all for Thanksgiving, ok?”

After the brothers said their final good byes, Sam realized he was already entering the parking lot to the courthouse. He was grateful for his brother’s interruption. It has successfully taken him away from his morbid thoughts. Probably he was just being too paranoid. Next thing he knew he’d end up like his dad, stocking up on guns, ammo and MRE’s for when the end of the world came. Sam wasn’t like that. He preferred to be realistic and know that before anything like that happened he’d probably be long dead. The world had its problems but nothing major enough to warrant any paranoia like his dad had had.

Even Dean could be a little weird. Not a full blown “Doomsday Prepper” like his dad had been but close enough. More guns than he knew what to do with and despite Sam’s routine insistence, not all of them were registered, lest the government took them away. Whatever. The whole thing made Sam’s eyes roll. He was definitely the most sane one of his small dysfunctional family.

Then Sam walked into where his office was and his paranoia came back full force. The door to his office was open. Sam ran in and immediately went to where his case work was locked up. It had been pulled open and the file was gone, the drawer still opened haphazardly. It taunted Sam and he straightened it before slamming it shut. Son of a fucking bitch. Where the fuck had his assistant been this whole time?

Sam picked up the phone and quietly requested that an officer come up and take his report. While he waited, staring off into space, his assistant walked back in looking puzzled, a file in his hand.

“Donny? Do you have a minute, please?”

He’d gotten this assistant a year prior, his full name was Donatello, an older stout man with a full head of white hair, but he went by Donny. Sam didn’t feel anything about him one way or another. Sometimes Donny was cool and Sam could easily chat with him and other days he ranted and raved about shit out of the x-files and conspiracy theories. Those days made Sam sigh and wonder why the world was full of crazies. Still, Donny kept a tight ship on his office and his workload and if anyone knew who had been in his office it would be him…or he’d have theory about it. Sam wouldn’t mind listening to his theories this time, so long as they didn’t include dancing aliens.

“Sure thing, boss. Let me just put this file down. I was told someone was waiting for me in the file room but when I got there no one was there.”

That perked Sam’s ears up. Maybe someone had intentionally taken his assistant out of his office.

“Was this before or after my office was opened?

“Your office was opened? It was locked when Ruby tried to go in there. She said she’d left a file of hers in there.”

Sam glanced around. Ruby hadn’t left a file of hers in there. If he remembered correctly she hadn’t even had a file with her.

“Donny?” Sam said slowly, instinctively knowing the answer to his next question but not wanting to hear it all the same.

“Yes?”

“Who told you someone was waiting for you in the file room?”

“It was Ruby.”

The two men locked eyes and both knew what had just happened.

“What did she take?” Donny asked him.

“The Lucifer Milton case. It’s all gone.”

Donny grinned at him. “Not exactly.”

Sam stood from where he’d perched on the edge of the desk.

“What do you mean, not exactly?”

“Well…in a show I watch, something akin to the X-Files, whenever there’s an important case, the protagonist keeps a backup because of incidents like this that could potentially occur. Ever since I saw that I’ve been keeping a copy of your most important cases, in this case there’s just one since I haven’t been with you long.”

“Wait, so you have a copy of the entire case regarding Lucifer Milton? All if it? Even my notes?” Sam asked, crossing his arms, as he shifted his stance.

Donny stared at him for a moment before speaking again. “Look, I know I can be a bit over the top, but I promise I’m not a creeper. I just really thought that with all the publicity going on about this case and how slippery this guy seems to be, well, I just wanted to make sure that you were covered.”

Sam didn’t know whether to kiss the guy or fire him. He had grossly overstepped but he had also saved Sam’s ass. Still he had to set some boundaries.

“I am grateful that you had the foresight to make an extra copy of everything. You’ve saved me a ton of work but you have to understand that I can’t be ok with the knowledge that you also went through my shit while it was unattended to make copies of everything. Instead-“

Donny opened his mouth to speak but Sam continued, “Instead, why don’t we agree on what cases take precedence and that way you have my permission to make said copies and on the plus side I don’t have to feel weird about leaving my files laying around?”

Donny closed his mouth before nodding at Sam and smiling. “That’s perfect. Again, my apologies for not coming to you before, I just didn’t think you’d see the importance of doing it, of having a backup, if something like this hadn’t happened.”

Sam nodded and wait as Donny went around and opened his own drawer before pulling out a box that was something like a safe. He used a combination to open it and pulled out a rectangular compartment. That one required a fingerprint to open. Sam snorted to himself and shook his head. Yeah, the guy was nuts but at least he had a copy.

“The only things you’ll find in here that you won’t find in the original case file are the incident reports for everything that’s happened to you and that witness since you started the case.” Donny said, handing him a file.

“You knew about those?” Sam asked, immediately on guard.

Donny merely arched a meaty brow at him. “I am your admin. I get emails.”

Oh. Right.

“What other files do you have in there?” Sam asked, having seen two other envelopes.

“Just two more copies. One can’t have enough.”

Just then the officer Sam had requested showed up, legal pad in hand and Sam directed him to his office and filed two reports. Once he was done recapping, the officer, detective, really, eyed Sam carefully.

“Are you Sam Winchester, as in John Winchester’s son?”

Sam grimaced before answering.

“Unfortunately. Why do you ask?”

“My name is Rufus. Rufus Turner. I’m good friends with Bobby Singer.”

“You’re THAT Rufus? Bobby talks about you but with all the escapades he regales us with, I seriously thought you were dead this whole time.”

Rufus laughed. “No, boy, I’m not dead yet but I will be if anything happens to you on my watch. Bobby will kill me. He loves you boys.”

Sam nodded. Bobby had been every inch the dad his own had never been. Dean called him Uncle Bobby. Sam just called him dad.

“I love him too. I can’t believe I’ve never met you.”

“Well, this job keeps me busy. I haven’t been around much in the past few years, plus I was in South Dakota for the longest. Now I’m back in Kansas. When I heard you needed someone to take a report I figured I’d better get my ass up here. I’m thinking of going to the captain and seeing about trailing you for a couple days, see if I can’t get the license plate of that truck that’s been bothering you or better yet, a description of who’s inside. If nothing else, I’ll be there on Thanksgiving. It’ll be nice to catch up with Bobby and Ellen and I know he’ll want to make sure I’m doing what I can to ensure your safety.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate that. I don’t know why I hadn’t thought about going to the captain myself. I guess since it hasn’t escalated much, I figured I was safe. But today, really, if I hadn’t been driving the way I was, I would have been hit. But to what end, I wonder?”

“Best guess is that it would have gotten you out of the way. As for Ruby, I’m going to dig up what I can about her. Run a discreet background check, see what her connections are with Lucifer Milton, if any. In the meantime I recommend you get some clothes and go stay with a friend.”

“You really think that’s necessary?” Sam asked, not wanting to have to move back in with Dean or worse yet, have to tell him what was going on. Dean was going to have a coronary that he hadn’t been notified already. It hadn’t been done on purpose, really, it’s just like Sam had said, he hadn’t expected it to escalate like it had.

Rufus nodded. “I know you might not think so but Bobby is a terrifying son of a gun and he’ll have my ass if I didn’t insist.”

Then Sam remembered the tacos and he grinned, knowing exactly where he was going to go.

“Ok, if that’s what you recommend, that’s what I’ll do.” Sam said, trying his hardest to keep a straight face and a calm voice even as on the inside he was brimming with ecstasy. Considering the look on Rufus’s face, he was pretty sure he didn’t accomplish it but he didn’t care. He pushed off his desk again and stood.

“It really was nice to meet you, Rufus. I’ll see you on Thursday, ok?”

Rufus nodded and capped his pen. “Of course. And son?”

“Yeah?”

“You be careful out there, ya hear? This world needs more of you in it. Your daddy would be so proud of you.”

Sam didn’t refute the statement although his natural inclination was to do so. As far as he knew, his dad, that was to say, Bobby, was already proud of him and that was all Sam cared about. Instead Sam just bobbed his head in faux agreement and followed Rufus out of the office.

After saying his final good-bye to Rufus, Sam made his way back to his office, nodding his thanks at Donny who was currently eating a bucket of chicken at his desk, crumbled napkins everywhere as he hunched over whatever it was that he was writing.

Sam had just sat down when he heard Donny’s voice ring out, “Oh, hi Ruby!” Loudly enough for Sam to hear which was probably his intention. Sam did a quick glance around before seeing the copy of the case Donny had just given him and he quickly snatched it and stuffed it in a drawer just as Ruby appeared at his door, face in a grimace as she glanced back at Donny, nose wrinkling in distaste.

“How was your lunch, Sam? Everything go alright?”

Something about the way she asked made Sam think about the truck had almost collided with him. It still made him shudder to know that Gabriel had inadvertently saved his life. He’d have to thank him for that later.

“Sam?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, it did. Of course. How was your lunch?”

Confusion flit through her features for a split second before they smoothed out. Sam’s guess was that she was wondering why he hadn’t told her about the truck. Or his office. Sam didn’t care. That was for him to know and her to wonder.

“Uh, yeah, it was fine.”

“Good.”

For a moment they just stared at each other, almost at a stalemate. Sam fought the urge to speak first, putting his mindset to that of in the courtroom where he often out waited the guilty party. He was here all day, baby.

That made him glance at the clock on his desk. With all the excitement, it was now several hours past 1pm, which was roughly when he’d returned from Gabriel’s. In fact there was only an hour left before he could go and see him again. That brought a smile to his face, Ruby’s presence forgotten until she spoke again.

“You want to get dinner together?”

Sam’s eyes snapped back to hers.

“No, I can’t, sorry.”

She gave him a calculating look for a moment, waiting to see if he’d elaborate. He didn’t.

“Are we still on for Thanksgiving?”

Sam thought for a moment. He really wanted to say no, but he also didn’t want to tip her off. If he had to sacrifice a bit of his own time while the review opened for her was underway so be it. He’d explain to his family beforehand. And Gabriel.

He grudgingly nodded. “Of course.”

She smiled at him then. Her face used to be pretty to him but now all he saw was a cruel knowing smirk. Nothing like Gabriel’s smirks that made his golden eyes light up and overall brightened the world. No, hers were just unvirtuous at best, villainous at worst.

Sam smiled back at her as best he could and let out a sigh of relief when she tapped twice on the doorframe the way she did when she was leaving. He glanced at the clock again and wondered if it was too early to get to Gabriel’s now. Then he glanced down at his clothes. He still had all those new outfits to wear. Suddenly excited, Sam got up, grabbed the file back out of the drawer and placed it securely into his bag, not bothering to lock the door behind him this time. There was nothing for anyone there for anyone find anymore.

Saying his goodbyes to Donny, Sam headed out.

_______________

Sam drove home taking care that no one was following him. He was jumpy and even thoughts of spending time with Gabriel didn’t ease his worry. He hoped he wasn’t bringing it to his friends doorstep. He’d have to make sure Gabriel understood the repercussions of taking him in. That was if he said yes. Sam’s shoulders sagged as he considered the alternative. What if Gabriel said no? What if he was busy? Or had a boyfriend? Or simply didn’t want Sam there, in his space?

Surely he didn’t have a boyfriend. He didn’t, right? Sam growled at the thought of someone else hugging Gabriel or getting to run their fingers through Gabriel’s whiskey colored hair. Not fair, he thought before catching himself. Why was he getting jealous? He was straight for god’s sake. Maybe he shouldn’t stay with Gabriel. But no, he was too selfish to consider that. He wanted to stay with Gabriel. Wanted to see Gabriel sleepy and warm in the morning when he woke up, wanted to see him in pj’s, wanted to see him with his hair sticking up every which way, maybe scratching his stomach as he walked into the kitchen looking for coffee that Sam would have ready for him because he was an awesome house-mate like that.

More excited than he had the right to be, Sam made it home and quickly walked in to get his shit together. He packed enough clothes for a week, including his work clothes, his new clothes in case he and Gabriel went out, his own pj’s and regular comfortable clothing that he could lazy around in before heading into the restroom to get everything he’d need for his morning ablutions, shampoo and conditioner being on the forefront of his mind. He didn’t care that Dean called him Samantha for how much he cared for his hair, it was important to him and he used expensive shit that he didn’t mind admitting to or splurging on.

Once he had everything together, he stepped out of his clothing and put on the outfit he’d laid out on the bed for himself before checking himself out in the mirror. He was wearing another pair of skinny jeans, he found that he was quickly warming up to them plus hopefully this time he’d get the reaction he’d been looking for out of Gabriel. They were black with rips in them here and there, and an army green shirt that stretched out across his chest. Sam usually didn’t wear jewelry but he had a gold necklace that he wore from time to time, a gift from Bobby when he became the ADA, that he put on this time and decided he really liked it. It reminded him of Gabriel’s eyes and Sam knew he wouldn’t be taking it off again.

On his feet he wore black casual shoes with a strip of white making them look something like Vans or Converse although they weren’t. If Sam remembered correctly, they were Aldo, shoes Sam had gotten over a year ago but had never worn. He’d never felt the inkling to although he’d liked them at the store. He used to not really care about his clothing either, now Gabriel was changing that. He wanted to be more, be someone deserving of Gabriel’s affection…or friendship, whatever.

Sam was about to leave his apartment when something had him looking back at it. He didn’t know what it was that hit him out of the blue but he somehow felt he wouldn’t be back to live in it. He felt like that was the last time he’d see it. A wave of nostalgia hit him for the memories he had of being there and although Gabriel had only been there once, the memory of eating dinner with him and sharing dessert seemed to star front and center. Taking a deep breath, Sam reached out and rapped on the door twice, his way of saying goodbye, before he stepped out, closed the door behind him and headed out to his car.

Sam drove to Gabriel’s deep in contemplation, of what he wasn’t sure but it felt like his subconscious was hard at work, figuring things out for him. Whatever it was, by the time Sam made it to Gabriel’s he was feeling light again…or maybe it was just the knowledge that he was about to be with Gabriel. Whatever it was, it was a relax, calming emotion that Sam appreciated. Parked at the driveway, Sam took a moment to take a look at the house before him. It was a cottage type house, not made out of brick, but made out of stones, unmatched. The bottom was made out of logs, enhancing the air of cabin that the house gave off. The stones and the logs went together in a way that matched Gabriel and sitting there, looking at it gave Sam a feeling of peace. He felt like he was home and he hadn’t even been inside yet.

Sam got out, retrieved his bag and went to ring the doorbell. He heard something but surely that wasn’t what he thought…he rang it again and pressed his ear up against the door and yup, he was right. The door opened-

“You have ‘Lucy, I’m home’ as your doorbell?” Sam asked, incredulously.

“Hey, don’t come criticizing my love of all things Lucy, Winchester.” Gabriel said, grinning at him as he put one leg up against the doorframe and crossed his arms, leaning back against it. He smirked at Sam who try as he might couldn’t keep his eyes from roaming Gabriel’s body. He must have changed, Sam thought. He doesn’t have a bit of flour on him.

“You look nice, Sammy. Got a date?”

“Just with you, Gabe.” Sam smiled at him. From where he stood he had to look down at him but something about Gabriel made him seem taller than life and Sam felt like he could talk to Gabriel for the rest of eternity and still not know everything there was to know about him.

“Well, you aren’t wearing anything that matches my eyes today except for that necklace. Remind you of me, Samshine?”

Sam grinned impishly at him. “It does. I’m never taking it off again.”

Gabriel’s smile grew wider and the air around them became charged. They stared at each other for a beat and then two, before Gabriel broke the eye contact to give Sam such a slow perusal, from his shoes up that made him blush. It felt like Gabriel was undressing him and damn if it didn’t do things to Sam. Once Gabriel had spent a little too much time alternating between his crotch area and his chest, Sam spoke up.

“My eyes are up here, Gabriel.”

Gabriel didn’t stop. “I know Samheart, just admiring the goods while I can. I know you wore that outfit for me, let me check you out. Give me a twirl will ya?”

Sam cracked up but didn’t deny the claim, choosing instead to answer the question. “How about no?”

“Well, you can’t blame a girl for trying. Come in Sammy.”

Gabriel opened the door wide to let him through and Sam stepped through, looking around.

“Damn Sammy. Those pants fit you like a glove.”

Sam whirled around. “Hey!”

Gabriel laughed. “Why do you think I let you go in front of me? You look good from the front, Sammykins, but damn if you don’t look good from the back too.”

Sam tried to look stern but it didn’t work. Instead a smug look covered his face and his chest puffed out, doing its best impersonation of a peacock. Now this was more like it. This is the reaction he’d been looking for when freaking Ruby had interrupted them. Thinking of her made his shoulders sag and Gabriel caught it.

“Too far?”

Sam shook his head.

“No, that’s not it. It’s just…remember when I was telling you about all that shit that’s been happening to me earlier?”

Gabriel nodded, closing the door behind him and motioning where Sam could place his bag.

“Well,” Sam continued, toeing off his shoes, “What I failed to mention, mainly because I’d forgotten about it until I got back at work, was that the same truck that has been trying to scare me off the road almost hit me when I was on my way to you. I was so excited to see you that I had my foot down on the pedal and I don’t think they accounted for that because they missed. And then,” Sam paused, a little disturbed by how dark Gabriel’s eyes were getting, turning into slits and the air around him grew dangerous and filled with righteous anger.

“And then, Sam?” Sam blinked. Was Gabriel mad at him? He hadn’t done anything.

“Um, are you ok?”

“And THEN, Sam?”

“Well,” Sam stammered, heart beating fast at this Gabriel he’d never seen. “When I got back to the courthouse, my office had been broken into and someone stole my file on the Lucifer Milton case. I had to file two reports and um, well, the lead detective said that for my safety I should stay with a friend or Dean for the next few days and well, I packed up some of my clothes and brought it here. I wondered, if it’s not too much trouble, could I stay here? I’d stay with Dean but I’ve lived with him long enough, I really don’t want to unless you say no.”

Gabriel stayed quiet, the thunderous expression not leaving his face for another beat or two.

“Sam, I need to make a call. Please make yourself at home. I’ll be right out. Give me two minutes.”

Sam could only nod mutely and watch as Gabriel all but stomped away. What in the-? He heard a door slam and something crashed against the wall. Sam flinched. He didn’t know what had Gabriel so riled up. Sam walked a little closer to the door about to offer…he didn’t know what, but something when he caught the last piece of Gabriel’s conversation. “…off limits! I told you this! Don’t try me, brother, because you will find me and this time I won’t be the brother you knew and claimed to love.” Then, what was indisputably the phone, was slammed down, making Sam jump and guilty moved back to where Gabriel had left him.

He was still standing there a minute later when Gabriel came out, all smiles and a nonchalant air around him.

“Sorry about that, Sammy. Just had to make a quick phone call. Have you had a chance to look around yet? Welcome to my humble abode. And of course, you can stay. Forever if you want.”

Sam took a moment before he could speak again.

“Gabe, you’re giving me whiplash.”

Gabriel looked at him surprised.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what just happened? You got mad. Was it something I said? And then you went and yelled at someone on the phone and now you’re what? Happy again?”

Gabriel’s face turned serious. “I don’t like people threatening you Samshine.”

“So, you called someone?” Sam asked, genuinely puzzled by the transpired events.

Gabriel just smiled, although it seemed a little forced to Sam. “Don’t worry about it, just something I had to take care of real quick. Come on Samheart, let me give you a tour.”

Sam hesitated for just a moment before ultimately complying. He never wanted to be on the receiving end of that anger Gabriel had displayed and felt a twinge apologetic for whomever Gabriel had called. No matter how he tried to reason it, he felt like the call had been made for him, because of him. Not to mention Gabriel had said distinctly said “brother”, not once but twice. Sam knew he hadn’t called Cas, so who did he call? What brother? The brother that had called him a while back? What did he have to do with anything? Sam needed to get to the bottom of this. Who was Gabriel’s brother and why was Gabriel yelling at him about Sam?

“Well, this is the living room.” Gabriel’s jovial voice broke Sam out of his thoughts. He shook himself and paid attention, eyes roving over the house. It was so Gabriel, the perfect fit reminded Sam of the cuff links. It was an open space concept on the inside, the living room melding into he kitchen and the dining room. The ceiling were high, adorned with the same logs that formed the house on the outside. A huge fan sat in the middle, the oars the same color as the logs. Sam turned to the left and saw a huge kitchen with more appliances than he knew the name to. The kitchen backsplash was a myriad of colors, black, gray and purple. The living room hosted the same colors, throw pillows were the deep violet of Sam’s car and on the walls hung huge frames of photography Sam recognized as Ansel Adam prints.

Sam’s eyes came to rest on Gabriel who was leaning against the couch waiting patiently for him to take his fill. “What’s your favorite color, Gabe?” The question came out softer than Sam expected but in that moment he didn’t care. It seemed like a crucial question all of sudden. The answer as important to Sam as his next breathe.

“Can’t you tell, Sammy?” Gabriel straightened and then opened his arms in a wide spanning motion. “Purple.”

The breathe whooshed out of Sam. His favorite color was purple and here he was, 26 years of age and never once had he ever met anyone whose favorite color was the same as his. It made Sam feel like he needed Gabriel. Needed what he didn’t know but he needed more. Needed to be closer.

So Sam did it. He got closer. When Gabriel didn’t move, Sam took another wide step, he didn’t want to give Gabriel the chance to run. Then another. Until he was standing right in his personal bubble.

Sam reached out and pulled Gabriel in, closing the space between him. There. Finally Sam felt like he could breathe properly. He had Gabriel in his arms and all felt right in the world. Sam pressed his nose into Gabriel’s hair and breathed him in. Sugar and spice and everything that’s nice, his mind told him. Sam grinned into it. Then kissed Gabriel on the head.

Gabriel still hadn’t moved and that didn’t set well with Sam. So he lowered his arms and guided Gabriel’s around his back.

“Sam, you don’t want to do that.”

“Why?”

“Because if I hold on to you, I’m never letting go.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to.”

“Sam, I won’t let go and you’re straight, remember?”

Sam blinked. Oh shit, Gabriel was right. He took a step back.

“Sorry, Gabriel. I don’t know what happened.”

Gabriel gave him a sad smile. One Sam was getting tired of seeing on his face.

“It’s ok, Samshine. It’s me. I just have that animal magnetism, ya know?” Gabriel joked weakly.

Sam rolled his eyes.

“Really? Reeled anyone in lately?” Sam could hear the growl in his throat but was helpless to stop it.

Gabriel smirked, a real smirk, one that did things to Sam’s insides…even as he still wanted to know the answer to his damn question.

“You asking me if I’m seeing anyone, Samheart?”

Sam crossed his arms and scowled at the mere thought. “Yes.” He snapped.

“Sorry, Sambo. I don’t kiss and tell.”

“So, there’s been kissing involved?”

“Would you rather I kiss you?” Gabriel asked pointedly, taking a step towards him.

Sam’s brain was fried, misfiring on all points right then. The thought of kissing Gabriel…

“No.” He choked out.

“You sure?” Gabriel asked, “Because from where I’m standing you’re looking a whole lot like a jaded lover.”

Sam knew he should stop, stop this pointless conversation, not give in to Gabriel’s baiting, he was about to walk away when Gabriel spoke again.

“And if I said there had been kissing involved?” Gabriel taunted him.

Sam’s mind roared, an onslaught of emotions raging through him and he saw red. He took one large step and he was there, back in Gabriel’s space. Before he knew what he was doing, he was picking Gabriel up and placing him against the edge of the back of the couch. He placed his hands on either side of Gabriel’s face and was about to give him a bruising kiss to remind him who he belonged to when he realize he didn’t want to do that. Gabriel deserved more, deserved everything. Sam’s anger melted and it was just him and Gabriel. His eyes flickered from Gabriel’s eyes, peeking at him from underneath his lashes, to his pink mouth.

Sam’s mouth watered. Oh, how he needed. He felt like he’d been starving this whole time or dying of thirst and now Gabriel was there, replenishing all the nutrients his body had so craved. He licked his lips and tilted his head, slotting their mouths slowly, loving how they fit, loving how Gabriel just opened up for him. Sam’s tongue slipped in, tasting Gabriel and unlike Ruby, the sweet taste he had fit him. He was sweet. He was a fucking angel and Sam couldn’t get enough. He deepened the kiss, hand running up Gabriel’s back and through his hair, pulling lightly at the roots and Gabriel moaned and threw his head back. Sam took the hint and sucked on his neck, leaving bruises there but not caring. Gabriel was his. Belonged with him and only him. Gabriel was- wait, what?

Like a broken record, the needle screeched to a halt and he gasped, stepping back so fast Gabriel fell backwards onto the couch. Sam stood there, shocked, when Gabriel’s head came back up over the couch, smirk firmly in place.

“Did your downstairs brain finally catch up to your upstairs one?”

Sam stood there, mouth agape, before finally speaking. “Why would you let me do that Gabriel?!” He exclaimed.

“Um, because I’ve wanted to do that forever? I’m not that self-sacrificing you know.”

“But I’m-I’m-“

“Yeah, kiddo, I heard you the first hundred times. You’re straight. I get it.” Gabriel said with an eye roll.

“Anyway,” he continued on. “Grab your bag, I’ll show you where you’re sleeping.”

Sam still stood there, still in shock. A part of him wanted to yell at Gabriel but another part, the part that scared him because he thought he’d been certain he was straight, wanted to grab Gabriel and kiss him senseless again, making him moan deeper and louder.

“Sam.”

Gabriel’s voice tore through his thoughts.

Gabriel was standing in the hallway, head turned to look back him. “You might want to do something about that, bucko. Otherwise I will and we all know you’re straight.” Gabriel said with a hint of mock as he motioned to Sam’s crotch. Sam looked down and couldn’t believe himself. He was hard. Fully erect.

Sam finally got in control of himself. Ok. He took a deep breathed and tried to will it away, pointedly not thinking about Gabriel. Right now was not the time for a big gay freakout. He had to handle this first and then maybe he’d think about the other.

“Gabriel, do you still think it’s wise for me to stay here?”

“Why, Sammy?” Gabriel arched his brow at him. “Afraid you won’t be able to keep your hands off?”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “Is that the game you want to play, Novak?”

Gabriel licked his lips and nodded. “Game on Winchester.”

Sam eyed his partner and then stalked as sensuously as he could towards him. He encroached Gabriel once more and then leaned down, rubbing his body with his own as he stooped down. “And what do I get when I win?”

Gabriel leaned forward and Sam felt heat engulf his body when Gabriel’s tongue lapped his ear and gently pulled before blowing air on it, making Sam shiver, goosebumps covering his flesh, and whispering, “Me.”

Sam’s pupils dilated. “And if you win? What do you get?”

Gabriel sucked on the spot right below his neck, making Sam eyesight black out for a second and then his erection was back full force. “You.”

That made Sam grin in earnest. He straightened to his full height and looked at Gabriel. “Sounds like a deal. You sure you’re ready?”

“Only ever since I met you.”

Sam nodded, satisfied. Then a thought entered his mind and he sobered.

“Gabriel.”

Gabriel eyed him warily. “Hmm?”

“I, uh, I, well not me, really, but, uh, RubyisaccompanyingusforThanksgiving” He finished in a rush.

He opened his mouth to explain further but Gabriel stopped him. “No worries. Milo has been invited as well.”

That shocked Sam to his core, not because Gabriel was evidently still seeing the man, no it was more because every nerve, every muscle, every part of Sam screamed MINE upon hearing the words.

Then it was all too much for Sam. He stepped around Gabriel, entered the room Gabriel had motioned to, and closed the door.

Chapter Text

Sam heard Gabriel pad away from the door and he had to admit to himself that he was a bit disappointed. He’d sorta thought he’d come after him. Was that what he wanted? Did he want Gabriel? Like for keepsies? Sam sat on his bed after giving the room a cursory glance. It went with along with the motif of the rest of the house. Blacks, grays and the intermittent purple, the wood a deep mahogany. It gave the room an air of royalty and at another other time Sam would have taken the time to give the room the appreciation it deserved. As it was, Sam could only flop back on the bed, his hair spanning out behind him as he stared at the ceiling fan and finally, after weeks of denial, asked himself the ever present question.

Did he like Gabriel?

To his surprise, his heart and body responded far quicker than his mind, a resounding yes echoing throughout his body. His mind protested, reminded him that he wasn’t gay but at the same time, he had to face facts. He’d gotten a boner off of kissing Gabriel. He’d felt the soft stubble along his jawline as he kissed him, felt his mustache as their lips rubbed and he hadn’t paid it any mind. In his mind, he was simply kissing Gabriel. Would it be different if he saw his dick? What if their…whatever it was got far enough and he got an opportunity to see it and was repulsed? He didn’t think Gabriel would ever forgive him for that.

Sam did what any lawyer would do, he decided to conduct his own research and find out if he was gay or see if all these emotions and reactions to Gabriel were maybe, what? Regressed sexual frustration? No, he had Ruby and the mere idea of being with her again was more repulsive than thinking about being Gabriel was or could ever be. So what was it?

Maybe he should call Dean and find out when he knew. He felt around in his pocket, pulling out his phone and called his brother.

“You ok, Sammy?” Dean answered, sounding breathless.

“Yes, Dean. Geesh, what were you doing? Do I even want to know?” Sam teased his brother.

“Nothing bitch. I was just outside working on Baby when I heard your ringtone and ran inside.”

“You’re such a slut for that car, jerk. Tell me, does she place before or after Cas?”

“Haha. You’re so funny. Not.”

“As always, so good with the comebacks.”

“I’ll show you good with the comebacks.”

Sam couldn’t help it. He laughed. His brother did too after a moment and then asked again. “What’s wrong Sammy?”

It made Sam’s throat constrict. And then he whispered. “I think I might like Gabriel. And I don’t know how to feel about that.”

Dean was quiet for a few seconds before answering. “You know how I knew about Cas? When the thought of him being with anyone else was more than I could handle. How do you feel about Gabriel being with someone else?”

“Makes me see red.” Sam admitted quietly.

“Well then there’s your answer.”

“But Dean, I’m not gay.”

“I wasn’t either, little brother. At least, not really. Maybe Gabe is on to something. Maybe it’s about kindred souls loving each other first, regardless of the body they’re in.”

“You think I’m in love with him?”

“Do you think you are?”

Sam thought about it. Again his heart said yes but it just couldn’t be. He’d only known Gabriel a handful of days, that just wasn’t possible, was it?

“I hate you, Dean.”

Dean huffed out a laugh. “You’ll be alright little brother.”

Sam hung up with his brother and laid back thinking. Most people, including Dean, short changed him. They saw Sam as the smart one but what Sam lacked, Dean made up for in spades. He was smart, he was just content with his life and didn’t see any reason to change it, the way Sam had. In his eyes the only truly important people in his life were Sam, Cas, Baby, and Bobby. Everyone else he could take or leave but if they accepted him then he included them in his heart. Sam didn’t feel like he felt that strongly about anyone. He had often wondered if his brother loved him more than he loved Dean. Sure, he’d do anything for him, within reason but that right there was the epitome of their relationship. He’d do anything within reason, Dean would just do anything.

Sam suddenly felt very lucky to have Dean as a brother. What he’d done to deserve him, he didn’t know but he was grateful none the less.

Of course that brought his thoughts back to Gabriel. What was the deal with Gabriel having been engaged at some point? Who the fuck would leave Gabriel? Sam wouldn’t. Not in this lifetime anyway. Sam knew he had grossly underestimated Gabriel. Having already caught a glimpse of how Gabriel could love, Sam knew that the power lay with him. If he said, yes, as Gabriel had put it, he would never let go either. But the way Gabriel was, how did the other girl get away from him? How much effort had Gabriel put into loving her? Sam’s heart hurt with the knowledge that Gabriel had probably given it his all because that’s just who he was as a person. It probably had taken him an awful long time to get over her, whomever she was.

Sam’s brain caught on another thought. Gabriel had been pre-law? Why hadn’t he known? Gabriel had done so much in his short life that it kinda made Sam feel like he wasn’t doing enough to enjoy it. He wondered if he should do anything else but there wasn’t anything that captured his mind and heart the way law did. Still, pre-law! That meant he and Gabriel could chat about cases and shit. Not current ones, of course, but just cases and law in general. That excited Sam. He didn’t have anyone else he could have these conversations with.

But before he did any of that, he needed to get a hold of himself. For what would have been the umpteenth time, Sam started to remind himself that he was straight and needed to start acting like it but something stopped him. Now it just felt ridiculous. It felt like he wasn’t being fair to himself or Gabriel. It made Sam wonder, when had anyone put Gabriel and his desires first? Gabriel gave so much, what would it feel like for him to be given everything in return? Gabriel was ridiculous and cheesy in the best way and Sam wanted to, wanted to give him the same cheesiness in return. He wanted to make sure Gabriel understood how much he meant to Sam.

Sam’s mind began to plot when it was interrupted with the fact that It would be Thanksgiving in two days and who knew, maybe his theories about Ruby being a snake would turn out to be misconceptions, however unlikely that was. In the meantime, however, she had to stay invited. Sam needed to watch her and with Rufus there, well…still he had to explain this to Gabriel.

Speaking of, should he stay with Gabriel, still? He and Ruby weren’t exclusive nor in a relationship but Sam was a one-person type of guy, he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty about kissing Gabriel while Ruby was still in the picture. Maybe he should officially call it quits with her. But if he did, then what? He’d go into a relationship with Gabriel? Sam groaned and reached over to grab a pillow and pull it over his face. What was he even saying? It all felt too fast all of a sudden. Sam felt like screaming into the pillow but before he could there was a knock on the door.

“Yes?” Sam asked, a little testily.

There was silence for a bit and then Gabriel spoke up. “If you’re done angst-ing, the tacos are about done. Want to come out?”

Sam realized he’d been hearing his stomach rumble for the past several minutes and it was due to the delicious aromas that he could smell even hidden under the pillow.

“Yes, I’ll be right out. Let me just change first.”

“Ooh, are you going to slip into something more comfortable, Sammykins?”

“Shut up, Gabriel.”

“Alright, alright. No need to get your panties in a twist.”

Sam heard Gabriel walk away again. His outfit had served its purpose of inciting a reaction out of Gabriel. Now it was time for comfort. Most days when he got home, the first thing Sam did was pull on some pj’s. It made his evening, his free time, seem longer for some reason. They relaxed him, made him feel safe. Like if he was in his pj’s, nothing could get him. He snorted thinking of the meme he’d come across that depicted a person hidden underneath blankets, “monster” peering through the door and saying, “Oh! Can’t scare her, she’s under the blankets.” Pj’s were the equivalent of blankets to Sam.

He pulled on his favorite pair, soft and worn from use. He paused as he pulled them on. These were actually from Gabriel too. He’d just forgotten. Gabriel had gifted them to him the year before last for his birthday. Another gift he’d never thanked him for. They had little moose heads all over them and were made of a material that wasn’t cotton but wasn’t flannel either. It was like a combination of the two, mixed with silk. They were really really soft and while the first time Sam had worn them it had been because he hadn’t gotten around to doing laundry that week and had run out of pj’s so he’d grumbled and pulled those on as a last resort, he’d instantly loved them. He wondered if Gabriel would recognize them.

Sam pulled them on with a soft green tee. The green matched the leaves that surrounded the moose, almost like a halo, although Sam was certain it was meant to be a crown of sorts. Instead it gave him the idea that it was him and Gabriel’s halo. You know, because angel and the fact that Gabriel called him Moose. Staring at his reflexion in the mirror, Sam almost took the pj’s off. He didn’t want Gabriel to know that all his favorite things came from him. But he stopped. That was just his ego talking. If he ever decided to give Gabriel and him a go, he didn’t want Gabriel to think that’s how he was, because he wasn’t. So he kept them on and padded silently into the kitchen where Gabriel was making the taco shells, because of course he was. Sam didn’t even know one could make his own taco shells. He thought they came in packs only, you know, like noodles. Although Gabriel could probably…

“Can you make noodles?” He asked without thinking. Gabriel eyed him, leisurely raking his eyes up and down his body as his hand worked the tortilla and folded it into a taco. “Like, instead of tacos because it might be just a tad late for that?”

“No! Tacos are good. I just meant in general. Can you, like, you know, make noodles?”

“Yes, Sam. I can make pasta.” Gabriel said simply.

Sam flinched. “What?” Gabriel asked.

“Are you mad?”

“No.”

“You only call me Sam when you’re mad. What’d I do?”

Gabriel smiled, stopped what he was doing and walked the short space to Sam. He leaned right into that space where Sam liked him best, that was to say, up and close in his, and kissed Sam’s neck. “No, Samshine. I’m not mad at you. You just puzzle me sometimes.” Sam sighed into his hair, inhaling his scent in. He smelled so good, Sam wanted to stay a while. His throat betrayed him when it made a sound of discontent upon Gabriel pulling away. “Sorry, Samheart, gotta keep these tacos coming along or the shells will get cold.”

Sam could see the shredded lettuce, diced tomatoes and chicken ready but asked anyway, “Need any help?”

“Sure, you can take the salsa out of the fridge. I have beer and soda. I have both real soda and that stuff you like. I picked some up on my way home.”

Sam smiled and his feet carried him behind Gabriel where he gave him a hug. “Of course you do.”

“Whaddaya mean Sammy?”

“Ionno,” Sam said, not releasing him even ask Gabriel bent forward a little to turn off the stove, Sam just pushed into him a little, enjoying the way Gabriel’s breath hitched as their bodies lined up, “I just realized a few days ago that you’ve always taken really really good care of me. You know these are my favorite pj’s? And that beanie, that I never thanked you for, is the only one I wear and I know you bought it because it matched my car. You are quite possibly,” Sam leaned forward to kiss a spot on the back of Gabriel’s neck that was left exposed when his hair had parted slightly, “the most thoughtful person I’ve ever known.”

“Moose?”

“Hmm?” Sam asked, face still buried in Gabriel’s neck.

“You play dirty.”

Sam laughed and stepped back, turning Gabriel to face him. “But I’m being serious, ya know?”

A soft smile entered Gabriel’s face. It was his smile.

Then it morphed into a smirk.

“Does that mean I get a kiss for my troubles?”

Sam stared but didn’t move when Gabriel stepped forward. Didn’t move away when Gabriel brought his hands up to his face and gently guided it down. Only moved his lips when he felt Gabriel’s. God, it was a good kiss. Gabriel gently nipped at his bottom lip, swiping his tongue across it like a pro and Sam’s mouth opened and he felt Gabriel’s tongue go in. His arms came up around Gabriel’s waist and he pulled him in, bending Gabriel slightly so their mouths were even more close. He stopped when he couldn’t breathe anymore. Pulled away, breathless, enjoyed seeing Gabriel’s face flush and lips swollen. He felt a rush of pride surge him at having been the one to do that, to cause that and the word left him before he could stop it.

“Mine.”

Gabriel smiled wide then. “Always Samshine.”

The “just waiting for you to get your head out of your ass” was unspoken but Sam could hear it anyway. He smiled and then his stomach rumbled. “Tacos?” He said hopefully.

“Yup.” Gabriel turned but Sam wasn’t quite ready to let go. He captured him in his arms and moved his hair to the side and peppered kisses along his neck, enjoying the goosebumps he left in his wake. Gabriel sighed into him.

“So. I heard you were engaged once.”

“Yup.”

“She’s an idiot.”

Gabriel snorted. “She said I was.”

Sam shook his head. “Never.”

He finally released Gabriel and watched as he made up their tacos before walking over to the fridge and pulling out the salsa and some beers for them. He smiled at seeing two packs of Zevia in there. One cola, like he’d had, one root beer that was undoubtedly for Gabriel. He huffed out a quiet laugh and felt his heart clench with happiness.

They were seated at the table and both had already taken bites of their tacos (so good that Sam had no qualms about moaning loudly while Gabriel watched him with interest. Sam had winked at him making Gabriel flush and avert his eyes.) when Sam spoke up, “So. I’ve been thinking. I might be gay.”

To his surprise, Gabriel should his head. “No, Sammy. You’re not.”

Sam frowned. Had he read this whole thing wrong? What was happening?

Then he realized that Gabriel was still talking. “…demisexual.”
“Wait, what?” Sam interrupted.

“I said if anything, you’re demisexual.”

“What is that?”

“Well, it’s like this, have you ever had a one night stand? Like, with a total rando? Someone you didn’t know at all?”

Sam wrinkled his nose before shaking his head. Gabriel smiled at him. “You probably feel like you have to know something about the person, don’t you?”

Sam thought it over. Basically yeah. I mean, even with Ruby, he slept with her because he’d already seen her a knew a little about her from his job. Obviously he needed to vet his people better and he eyed Gabriel suddenly a little apprehensive about what secrets Gabriel might hold. He hadn’t been lying when he told him he could be with him forever and still not know him. As exciting as it was to constantly learn new things about your partner, it saddened Sam because at the same time if felt like it was stuff his partner didn’t trust him with.

“Think I’ll ever know all your secrets?” He asked softly.

Gabriel’s eyes widened. He looked down at his tacos without eating and sat there for a moment before looking back up. “I don’t know, Sammy. Truth be told, that would involve quite a large amount of trust and I don’t know that anyone has ever earned my trust like that. To be completely honest, most people try to change me. I’m always too something, too childish, too annoying, too obnoxious, too immature, not fancy enough, not schooled enough…you see where I’m going with this? The thing is that,” Gabriel’s voice took on a different quality here, stronger somehow, “not being smart enough is not one of my downfalls. I am smart. Smart enough to know that someone trying to change who I am instead of taking me as I am, isn’t worthy of the amount of trust it would take to confide in them the way you’re asking. You know why, Sam? Because in the end, although I can put up a hell of a facade, I can’t change who I fundamentally am, and once that all starts coming back, they leave and I’m not going to trust anyone who I know is going to leave. Does that make sense?”

Sam nodded, mutely. It did make sense. More and more he was understanding Gabriel’s desire to just let people draw their own conclusions about him. He wanted to see people’s true colors. Again Sam was shame faced with his own actions.

“Gabriel.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.

“For?” Gabriel asked, picking up a taco, just as Sam put his down.

“Pretty much everything I’ve ever said to you since I met you. I’ve been beyond rude and arrogant and you’ve every right to not trust me, ever. But I want you to know that as long as you’re in my life, in whatever capacity, I’ll do my best to let you be free, to be yourself, not anyone else.”

Gabriel’s shoulders slumped. “You won’t believe how many times I’ve been told that Sammich.”

That made Sam’s heart hurt. He didn’t want to be yet another person who failed Gabriel. He’d just have to show him instead. He took the conversation back to where it had been.

“I’ll just have to show you then. Tell me more about the demisexual thing.”

He listened as Gabriel explained it to him and he found himself agreeing. He’d never felt anything for a male before but he’d also never found anyone like Gabriel before. He really didn’t have any males in his life aside from his dad, Dean, and Cas. Of course he’d never be able to develop a crush on anyone. He’d never felt anything with Brady although he’d comfortably slept on the bed with him a few times. Waking up with an arm slung around him hadn’t bothered him either. He wondered how Brady had felt about that.

“So basically you’re saying that if I’d’ve had been forced to spend time with you before now this probably would have happened sooner?”

Gabriel smirked. “Basically.”

Sam smiled back. He wasn’t really ready for a relationship with a male, that still scared him, but friends he could definitely do. Which reminded him.

“Have I told you why Ruby has to be at our Thanksgiving?”

Gabriel stopped eating. “Has to?”

Sam nodded. “Yes. I think she has something to do with Lucifer Milton. She’s always been too interested in his case and originally she invited herself over and while I didn’t really care for that, I was ok with letting her. Today, however, the lead detective, who as it turns out is a friend of my dad’s, told me he was going to look into her some more and well, I don’t want to tip her off so while I don’t want to spend anymore time with her than necessary right now she’s basically a necessary evil.”

“I see.”

Sam scooped more salsa into his taco before taking a bite, chewing it and continuing.

“I also…well, I feel guilty. We’re not in a relationship but it feels too much like I’m doing something wrong. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

A small light went out in Gabriel’s eyes and Sam was quick to rectify himself. “I just meant not now, Gabe, not as in not ever. I like you, I can admit that now, I just don’t really know how to do this. In truth, although I’ve known you for a while, I feel like I’ve only known you a handful of days. Speaking of- is it true you were pre-law?” Sam remembered, awe creeping back into his voice.

Sam’s favorite part about Gabriel was how expressive his eyes were. Sam felt like he could see the truth in them. And the truth was that right now, they held a bit of panic. “Um, something like that Sam.” Sam didn’t flinch this time. He was learning that this was one of Gabriel’s tells. He reverted to calling him Sam when the conversation drifted into something he didn’t want to talk about. Too bad. Sam pushed.

“And what? You didn’t like it? Was it before or after you were pre-med?”

Gabriel eyed him, pushing his taco around a bit before pushing his plate back. He wasn’t hungry anymore. He wondered how much he could tell Sam before Sam found out. And boy, when he found out he was going to be angry. Gabriel could see the train wreck waiting to happen but was helpless to stop it. He didn’t even know how to begin to stop it. He hadn’t thought about his family in a long ass time but now, everything seemed to be coming to a head and he couldn’t help but fear what the fall out would be. Yeah, he used to be a lawyer but gave it up under the pretense of wanting to do weddings instead. That wasn’t the real reason though. He gave it up because his brothers were fucking idiots who kept using him to keep them out of the slammer where they belonged. He got tired of it. Tired of being stuck in their games, that’s why he took Cas with him. That’s why he payed out the ass to have their name changed in secret. They were conniving, manipulative, scoundrels, who quite frankly, deserved to be in jail. He bit his lip in contemplation. He hadn’t been kidding when he told Luci that Sam was off limits. He hadn’t told his brother what he had because if he had, he had no doubt he’d be dead by now, brother or not, but he wondered how he could go about giving it to Sam without losing his license. Truth was, he had everything that was needed to put him away forever, he had-

“Gabriel?”

Shit. He’d forgotten all about Sam. He jolted back to the present. What had the question been? Oh, right.

“It was after, Sammy.”

Sam sensed he’d pushed too far. He’d seen the glazed look in Gabriel’s eyes, seen the frown that came over his face. He was remembering something and from the looks of it, it wasn’t anything good. Sam didn’t like that look on Gabriel’s face so he dropped it. Going for a change of subject he blurted what had been on his mind, “So…you and Milo?”

That did it. A smirk came over Gabriel’s face before he answered. “I remember where this line of questioning went before, so hell yes.”

Sam smiled. “Gabriel.”

Gabriel waved him off. “We went on one date and then after you, I figured I needed to get back out there so I went on a few more with him. He’s from across the pond, doesn’t have any family here so I invited him. Besides Cas told me you were taking Ruby. I wasn’t going to be there like some awkward seventh wheel, you know.”

“Are you in a relationship with him?”

Gabriel shook his head. “He likes me but I think I’ve made that pretty clear.”

“Made what pretty clear?”

“You heard me the first time, Samheart. My heart belongs to another.”

Sam smiled wide, his eyes crinkling, knowing even as he asked, what the answer was.

“Who, Gabriel?”

“You, Samshine.”

______________

After dinner, Sam helped Gabriel clean up and Gabriel made him coffee and they sat and chatted about what Gabriel was going to take for Thanksgiving. He was yawning and was about to say his goodnight’s to Gabriel when his phone rang and he walked over to pick it up.

It wasn’t a number he recognized and when he looked at the time, he saw it was past ten and he answered, knowing in his gut it wasn’t going to be anything good. Hopefully it wasn’t Dean. Or Bobby.

“Hello?”

“Is this Sam Winchester?”

“Yes.”

“This is the police department. The firefighters are at your residence, Mr. Winchester. Your neighbor gave us your number. There’s been a fire at your apartment…”

Sam didn’t hear the rest of it as the phone fell out of his hand, shock written plainly on his face. Then Gabriel was there, picking it up, using a voice Sam hadn’t heard before as he demanded answers out of whomever was on the phone. Sam just heard it all at a distance.

Then Gabriel was herding him out the door. Somewhere along the line, he’d gotten shoes on Sam and his beanie and jacket. Sam didn’t even remember putting them on. He just kept thinking about his apartment on fire. He knew who’d done this and he finally turned and looked at Gabriel.

“It was Lucifer wasn’t it?”

Gabriel’s mouth thinned, narrowly missing the curb as he punched the buttons on the dash of the car they were in. He spoke a number aloud and Sam listened as the number was dialed. It was on speaker.

“Hello, little brother.” It was a smug voice Sam recognized but didn’t all at the same time. He knew that voice, but once again just couldn’t place it. Or maybe he just didn’t want to. Didn’t want to believe what he felt like maybe he’d known since he first heard the voice.

When Gabriel spoke, it was coldly and Sam’s head snapped to face him.

“I told you he was off limits. I told you to do whatever you wanted but to leave him alone. I told you, I warned you brother, not to fuck with him, not to fuck with me. And now? Now I’m taking you down brother.”

Gabriel pushed the end call button, not giving his brother a chance to response and they were at a stop light before Sam spoke again.

“Who was that?”

Gabriel turned to him, exhaled, then faced the front, letting his head touch the steering wheel.

“My brother” He whispered, his tone pleading, begging for Sam to forgive him for what he was about to say.

“Lucifer.”

Chapter Text

The next morning Sam woke up and felt disoriented. He’d called Dean the night prior and told him everything. Needless to say, Dean was not happy. He was even upset with Castiel, which made Sam sad because he hadn’t meant to come between his brother and his intended but the lie, albeit by omission, was more than either of them could handle.

As for him and Gabriel. After Gabriel told him the truth, Sam hadn’t said another word for the rest of the way to his apartment. When they’d arrived, Gabriel made to get out and only then Sam had spoken.

“Just go.”

“But-“

“I said, just go.”

Gabriel’s shoulders had slumped.

“I’m so sorry-“

Sam had waved it off.

“Save it, Gabriel. Save it for someone who cares.”

Sam had stepped out and walked away from the car without a backwards glance. He heard Gabriel’s car drive off but he didn’t care. He was done. He was angry. This whole time, the whole fucking time Gabriel had known who he was dealing with and hadn’t spoken up. He could have saved Sam a lot of heartache, anxiousness, trepidation and he’d done nothing. Clearly he didn’t care about Sam nearly as much as he said.

Unwittingly, the memories of Gabriel yelling at someone, of using that voice, the one that scared Sam came to mind. He supposed, in his own way, Gabriel had tried to protect him but in the end it hadn’t been enough. Lucifer Milton was ruthless. Didn’t care about Gabriel and definitely didn’t care about Sam.

Gabriel Milton. Sam let out a shuddering breath. Gabriel Novak was THE Gabriel Milton. The one who had dropped off the edge of the world without so much as a by your leave. He wasn’t just pre-law, he’d been a fucking bomb ass lawyer. No wonder Lucifer wanted him. His brother had the capacity and intellect to get him off. For sure. Sam didn’t know how he felt about facing against Gabriel in a courtroom.

And Sam had asked him if he had been pre-law. “Something like that,” Gabriel had said. Sam scoffed. It was definitely not “something like that.” Gabriel had notoriously won all the cases he’d ever had in front of him. If there was anyone who was a better lawyer than Sam was, it was Gabriel. Now he just felt humiliated. Like Gabriel had been laughing at his expense. And shit. The blood drained from Sam as he went over what all he’d told Gabriel about the case. Gabriel knew they didn’t have enough evidence. What if he used that knowledge to successfully get his brother off? What if this all had been a ploy to get close to Sam?

Sam felt tears threaten. He didn’t want it to be a ploy. He wanted it to be real. He and Gabriel went well together. Whatever Sam had thought of him before getting to know him, he now recognized that he and Gabriel were something of kindred spirits when it came down to the nitty gritty. Had all that really been a fake? Was Gabriel that good of an actor? His instinct was to say yes, but another part held him back. For most things, Gabriel could bullshit with the best of them but Sam would be lying if he said that he felt that applied to him as well. He wished he could talk to Gabriel but now he really couldn’t. It was a conflict of interest.

His heart ached. He wanted to be mad at Gabriel and he was but at the same time he missed Gabriel. He’d wanted to wake up with him and he hadn’t gotten even one lousy morning.

“Sammy? You up?”

Dean banged on the door in his usual manner and Sam sniffed and tried to clear his throat before answering.

“Yes, Dean.”

“Come out. Cas said he needs to talk to you. I think you should hear what he has to say.”

Sam sat up. The indication in his brother’s voice told him he already knew what it was and that Sam should listen. Maybe it would be about Gabriel.

Quickly, Sam rifled through the new bag of clothes he’d had to get from his apartment once he’d realized that he’d left his other clothing at Gabriel’s, and pulled some clothes on, not bothering to think about a shower.

A glance at the clock told him it was 8:30 in the morning and he was glad he’d had the forethought to let the office know he wouldn’t be in the previous night. He’d been up way past 2am by the time everything was said and done. Upon arrival at his apartment, he watched as the firemen extinguished the last of the flames. Someone (Lucifer) had molotov’d his apartment. Luckily it only caught in the kitchen and whilst he couldn’t live there for the time being, his room remained unscathed. He was annoyed that his first thought had been to make sure what he’d purchased for Gabriel was ok. It was. It was in the duffel he’d prepared, with a fireman as an escort, before going outside to talk to the police officer that first arrived on the scene and then Rufus.

Rufus agreed with him. Now that things were getting hotter, regarding Lucifer, it seemed he’d upped the ante. Sam hadn’t had the heart to bring Gabriel up and he hoped it wouldn’t come back and bit him in the ass. He couldn’t help the feeling that he’d be alright though. Even upset with Gabriel, he couldn’t escape the notion that Gabriel wasn’t on Lucifer’s side. He was pretty sure Gabriel loved him. In many ways, he’d told Sam over and over that he did. Sam just wasn’t listening at the time. He was now. But now there was a new betrayal. Sam sighed. Was there a way to fix this?

Running his hands through his messy bed hair, he made his way into the kitchen where Castiel sat, wearing a robe, hands cupped around a mug. His brother was leaning against the sink, a mug held in his own hands as he blew gently into it. Neither of them were speaking. Sam couldn’t help but feel it was his fault.

“Good morning.” He said softly. They both just nodded back at him, not looking at each other. Sam hesitated at the entrance. “I’m really sorry to have come between y’all. It was definitely not my intention. I just didn’t know.”

He looked at Cas, who was staring back at him, his blue eyes boring deeply into his, the way he looked at Dean. He didn’t know how his brother could handle it. It felt like Cas was looking into his soul. Sam felt like he couldn’t break eye contact. Cas seemed to be searching for something and when Sam felt anxiety start seeping in, Cas nodded, seemingly to himself and then motioned the seat in front of him. ‘

“Please take a seat, Sam.”

Sam sat, jumping slightly when Dean appeared at his side, coffee mug in hand as he placed it in front of Sam.

“Sam.”

“Yes?”

“You understand that I can’t tell you Gabriel’s story right?”

Sam glanced at Dean who just gave him a small shrug and sat down at the head of the table.

“Then what-?”

“I can, however, tell you mine.”

Ah, thought Sam. Loopholes.

“Ok.”

“I’ll start from the beginning. In the beginning there were four. Michael and Lucifer are twins, although Michael is older by minutes, then came Raphael and then Gabriel was last. Our dad used to call him peanut because he’s little.”

Sam smiled at that. That was his favorite part about Gabriel.

“Their mom left and when our dad remarried my siblings and I came along. Balthazar, me, and Alfie. The oldest of them fought a lot. Dad left and Michael was in charge but Luci didn’t take kindly to that. He became rebellious and fell in with a rough crowd. When he graduated high school, we thought he was over it as he went on to university. Michael is a surgeon, Lucifer was lawyer, Raphael is an engineer, and Gabriel, well, he didn’t know what he wanted to be. He loves learning and loves trying out new things. He tried pre-med and found he didn’t care for it and when he tried law he found he was good at that. He did that until Lucifer started using him to keep himself out of jail. That’s when Gabriel stopped, took up wedding planning and later took me and we fled. Balthazar left when he was 16 and we haven’t heard from him since. Both Gabriel and I regret leaving Alfie but we couldn’t take him with us. He was too young.

Gabriel changed our name from Milton to Novak, my mother’s maiden name. She was killed. Poisoned. We’ve always thought it was Lucifer who did it. It was after she died that dad left and that’s when things started going downhill.

Sam, Gabriel’s lost a lot in his life. He was the one who tried to keep the peace when we were still at home. He got beat up a lot by Lucifer and Raphael. Michael just turned a blind eye. When he took off with me was because they tried to come after me and he said that was enough. We left in the middle of the night. Climbed out of the window. He went down first so that he could catch me if anything went wrong and something did. The rope we were using broke and I fell on him, breaking his foot. I begged him to go to the hospital. He said no. He didn’t go until we were in Nevada. His foot was so swollen they had to cut his boot off.

I guess what I’m saying is that there’s a reason why he didn’t want to tell you about him, why we didn’t tell y’all about them. They aren’t our family. Our family is right here, with y’all. We wish we could find Balthazar but we’ve tried and nothing has come of it. If we could Alfie here we would but for the longest we thought we were flying below the radar and it wasn’t until you mentioned him that we realized he was here and that if he was here, it had to be because he knew we were.

This is not my place to say but I know you know Gabriel loves you. That gives you, has always given you, the power to hurt him. Please don’t.”

Sam’s head was spinning, all the information crowding his brain.

Castiel had stopped talking and Sam pushed back from his seat, unsteadily. He stood up and walked into the restroom where he slid down the wall putting his head in his hands. He just needed moment to think and so much had happened that he didn’t even know where to start. He took a deep breath and forced his mind to start at the beginning, his brain cataloging the sequences of events now that he knew Lucifer and knew who Gabriel was. He couldn’t believe the person he was in love with was this person he technically didn’t even kno- wait. Had he seriously just thought he loved Gabriel? His mind started stray that way but he forced it to stay on track, he’d think about that later.

Gabriel Novak was Gabriel Milton who didn’t like to go by Gabriel for the simple reason that he was flying below the radar because of his family. He’d taken Castiel and fled. Lucifer was thought to be the one who poisoned the Novak sibling’s mother, he wondered how or why they thought that…now Lucifer was here, Gabriel had threatened him, Lucifer was a murderer who had probably killed his step mother…Gabriel had told him he’d come after him.

Sam’s blood ran cold. Gabriel was in danger.

He stood up so fast he felt dizzy but he pushed forward. Lucifer had to know where Gabriel lived. It wasn’t a far stretch to think that as he’d obviously known where Gabriel worked.

Sam opened the door and ran out almost crashing into his brother who was currently walking towards him with a mug of something in his hand.

“My phone. Where’s my phone?”

“Uh, I’m assuming in your jacket?”

Sam ran to the front entrance and grabbed his jacket, feeling for his phone.

“Sam, what’s going on?”

“I just- is it- omg.” Sam was starting to panic, his hand caught in the small opening on one side of his jacket where the zipper didn’t go all the way down because it was stuck and he’d just forced his whole hand in there and now it didn’t want to come out and Gabriel, Sam’s breath started coming out faster the more he freaked out and he could hear Dean saying his name but it sounded distant.

“Sam, Sammy, calm down. What’s going on?”

“Dean, I can’t-“ He gestured helplessly at his hand and Dean looked down and yanked the whole thing from him and finally his hand was free and he was rambling-“Lucifer knows where Gabriel works, what if, and he threatened him and Gabriel is alone and what if?” He couldn’t even finish the sentence and his heart rate was escalating again but Cas was there, reaching for his own phone and all three of them stood still as they heard the phone ring and ring without an answer.
Before Gabriel’s voicemail even came on, Sam was taking his jacket back from his brother and pulling it on, pushing his feet into his shoes, no caring that he was bending the backs as he wasn’t taking the time to put them on properly and then he was running out the door and into his car. Thankfully his jacket held his keys or he’d definitely have gone crazy then.

He was almost to the car door when a van came around the corner and to a halt, effectively blocking him in and he raised his fist and hollered at them to move the fuck out of the way when the side door opened and two masked men jumped out. They raced toward Sam and try as he might he couldn’t get away from them, they were huge. They were successfully pushing him into the van when everyone heard a POP and the tire in the back was rapidly deflating. Dean. It had to be Dean. The men didn’t stop. They had Sam in the van and the driver didn’t care about the tire. He flew out of there like a bat out of hell, the truck going up and down, the rim screeching and squealing as they fled the scene.

Sam forced himself to calm down. He had to take a good look at his captives so that he could describe them to a sketch artist. He refused to be that victim that came back and said they hadn’t seen anything. That didn’t help anyone. He started with one, the one closest one to him. Large boots, larger than his and he wore a size 12. Black and heavy duty combat boots, the size of them made him eye his hands next, they, too were bigger than his, thick fingers that bore two large rings and knuckles so large it made him wonder how the man ever got the rings on. The hands were red, probably from the cold and the nails were chewed to the bone. Hmm, this man must be nervous. On one of the hands, there was a large hairy mole, discolored and misshapen. Sam wondered if the man knew those were two signs that it should get checked out.

Blue pants, not blue jeans but blue dickies, black t shirt tucked in, showcasing the man’s large gut, hanging over the pants. Why it was only tucked in the front and not the back was one of life’s greatest mysteries in Sam’s opinion. The man wore a black puffer vest but no jacket. One bicep exposed a tattoo (done in prison green) of a dragon with its tongue sticking out. Sam felt like sticking his tongue out back at it but held in as his eyes roved over the rest of the man. ‘

“Keep looking, it’s not like it’s going to help you at all.”

Sam scoffed. “Let me guess, I’m not going to be around long enough to tell?”

The man smiled a tobacco stained smile at him. “Got it in one, Mr. ADA.” He sneered.

Sam forced himself to calm down. Begging for his life was just too cowardly. If he was going to go down, he was going to go down fighting. He had training too, thanks to his dad. Who knew the old man and his “teachings” would actually come in handy? Sam did a quick look and found that there were three of them in the van with him. He could work with that. Even though the man he’d been studying was bigger than him, he was older. Hopefully older meant more tired. If Sam could take him out, after he got out of the zip ties of course, the other two would be no problem. Especially since the driver was particularly diminutive. Maybe he wouldn’t even get off though. Maybe he’d just drop off the others and leave.

Sam’s thoughts continued as each possible scenario ran through his head as he started working the zip ties along the piece of metal where the seat went forward and backward. Approximately fifteen minutes later they pulled up to a warehouse. An abandoned warehouse because of course it was. Why was it always a dilapidated warehouse? He wondered.
The driver, unfortunately did not merely drop them off. He turned off the engine and pocketed the keys, coming around to open the door where Sam and the others were. It was then that Sam noticed that door didn’t have a handle from the inside. Hmm. Smarter than they look. Unfortunate. The driver, Milosh, one of the others had called him, handed a blue bandana to the man who had been keeping watch over Sam. When he moved to put it on Sam, Sam moved back.

“Green is more my color.”

“Keep it up wiseass, you can go in on your own two legs or you can go in carried when I break them.”

“You can’t break his legs, boss won’t be happy about that.” Milosh helpfully reminded the thug.

He glared at him. “He didn’t know that dumbass.”

Milosh turned red and made the motion of zipping his mouth shut and throwing away the key. Thug A, rolled his eyes before turning back to Sam, who finally got the zip ties cut though he kept his hands together.

Well, Milosh was an idiot, maybe there was only one brain in this operation, in which case that would make Sam’s job that much easier.

Sam’s world went dark as the bandana went around his eyes and then he was being yanked out and he applied force to his arms so they wouldn’t swing around to the front, giving away the fact that he was no longer tied up. He stumbled a bit as he fell off the van, landing hard on his ankle. He bit his lip. Shit that hurt. He felt his ankle roll and when he took the next step and felt pain spiral downward he knew it was probably sprained. Fuck.

Sam limped the rest of the way, forced to have to lean somewhat on Thug A, whose name he still hadn’t learned as he pouted that now he’d definitely not be able to dispatch said thug as easily as he’d anticipated. Sam wasn’t sure why he felt mostly calm, if a little irritated. He wondered if it had anything to do with Gabriel. After all, if they had come for him, they couldn’t have Gabriel. Then again, he was the devil’s brother, maybe he’d been saved all along and Sam had freaked for no reason. There was always the slim possibility that he’d been on Lucifer’s side all along but that thought didn’t sit well with Sam. He just couldn’t see that as a possibility. Especially if what Cas had said was true. If Gabriel loved Sam…and Sam was inclined to agree…well, the chances of him siding with Lucifer were non-existent.

Sam stumbled along, thoughts still swirling around Gabriel. He still couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid. How long had he loved Gabriel without realizing it? From the very first one liner? No, he’d felt genuine irritation but somewhere along the way Gabriel had become the person Sam felt the most real with. He could tell Gabriel anything, be any way, act however and Gabriel took it in stride. He didn’t have to be anyone but himself because Gabriel loved him just like that. Sam could be “on” or “off” and Gabriel still wanted him. It was an encompassing love that Sam wasn’t sure he could reciprocate.

Still, another part of him wondered if maybe it was because he hadn’t had it before. Even now, the mere fact that he’d realized that he loved Gabriel made him want to be more and even when he hadn’t realized, hadn’t he started dressing up? Willing to eat chocolate just because it made Gabriel happy? Given in to the inclination to hug him even when he normally held back to those he held affection for? Did he already love Gabriel more than he ever had anyone previously?

Sam heard the door to the warehouse open and then the sound and feel of gravel and rocks under their feet stopped and Sam could feel that the floor was smooth. Far from the corners he could hear scattering and he forced himself not the shudder. Rats. Ugh. He hated rats. They were so ugly with their long whiskers that moved to and fro and their naked tails. The tail was the part he didn’t like on opossums either. That and their beady eyes.

He was pushed roughly onto the floor and he almost forgot he was supposed to be zip tied until one of them spoke.

“Should we tie them?”

“For what? They’re already tied and blindfolded. Where the fuck are they going? Come on, lets get out of here before the boss gets here. He’s going to be mad about his ankle and I don’t want to be around for that.”

Sam waited until he heard the warehouse open and close again. They had said “them” and “they’re”. Who else was there with him?

Cautiously, Sam moved his hands to the front of his face and pushed the blindfold up.

There, in front of him, tears streaming down his bloody and bruised face was Gabriel, recognizable only by his beautiful hair and small body, one of his legs turned awkwardly away and Sam knew it was broken. He felt all the anger he hadn’t felt come rushing back, surging through his body until it practically vibrated within him.

Gabriel must have felt the change in energy in the air because he spoke out in a shaky voice that Sam hated.

“Who-who’s there?”

Sam was instantly by his side, ignoring the protesting in his ankle, making Gabriel flinch and try to get away.

“Shh. Shush baby. I’m right here and I’m going to get us out of here, ok?”

“Sam?”

Oh oh. It was Gabriel’s no no voice. The one that promised heavenly wrath and Sam almost didn’t answer, thinking it was being directed at him.

“I’m sorry Gabe. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“They took you?” Gabriel’s voice got impossibly harder, a steel undercurrent running through it that scared Sam.

“Um, yes?”

“They’re as good as dead. I’m going to kill them. Sam, you need to get out of here before they get back.”

“I don’t think so. I’m not leaving you here.”

“It’s not up for debate. You have to go.”

And Sam almost did. Sam almost left because rationally he understood what Gabriel meant. He was hurt, he’d just slow Sam down. He wouldn’t be killed because he was Lucifer’s brother.

But Sam stayed. Because no one had ever loved Gabriel back as much as Gabriel loved and Sam felt his heart break at the realization that Gabriel was aware of that. That Gabriel fully expected him to comply. So Sam settled in. Put an arm around Gabriel and kissed his forehead.

“No. I’m not going anywhere. If you stay, I’m staying. If you go down then I go too. We’re in this together. And Gabriel? If you’ll have me after every stupid thing I’ve done, we’re in this together forever. I’m done running.”

Gabriel was quiet.

“I don’t like you. In fact I hate you and I definitely don’t want you. So why don’t do us both a favor, Samsquatch, and leave?” Gabriel finally spoke.

Sam froze. Had he really messed it up? Had he really- wait, what? No. This was Gabriel. Gabriel was trying to get him to go.

Sam sighed and pulled Gabriel in closer.

“Never. You’re stuck with me now, I’m afraid.”

Another beat.

“Sam, please go.” Gabriel was begging now.

Sam shook his head even though Gabriel couldn’t see him.

“Nope.”

Then Sam remembered he could take Gabriel’s blindfold off and so he did, before placing a finger underneath Gabe’s chin and turning him towards him.

“You know my favorite thing about you?”

Gabriel stayed quiet aside from a minute shake of his head.

“How deeply you love,” Sam whispered. “But you’ve never been loved back the same way and I’m changing that. I’m here to stay Gabriel. No matter what you say, if you don’t come with me, then I’m not going either.”

“My second favorite thing are your eyes. They’re like liquid gold, dulcet tones of honey and whiskey. I could drown in them and I’d die happy. When you smile it’s like the sun is warming me from the inside out. When you laugh, it’s such a sweet sound that my insides melt and you taste so sweet. And it fits you, you know? Because you’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever known and I’m never ever trading you for anything.”

Sam bent his head and lifted Gabriel’s chin up before kissing him. “Kissing you is like coming home. You know why? Because you ARE home. Home is wherever you are.” Sam had never been so sweet to anyone but Gabriel deserved it. He’d had such a rough life and he loved Sam and Sam couldn’t believe how lucky he’d gotten. Even if he’d never been with a guy, that somehow felt secondary. He loved Gabriel’s soul, his very essence. Everything else was just icing on the cake.

“You ready to get out of here, sweetheart?”

Gabriel looked unsure and bit his lip before nodding.

Sam glanced around the room and spotted a box cutter on top of a stack of boxes in the corner. He limped over and grabbed it. As he did, the flap sprang up and Sam gasped. It was cocaine. He quickly placed it to the side and opened another box, more cocaine. Another box, more cocaine. Son of a bitch. He’d hit the mother load. He bit his lip anxiously. Who knew if it would still be here when he got back? Or by the time he got the cops out here? Maybe one of them should stay. But Gabriel couldn’t walk. It would make sense that he stayed to keep an eye on them while Sam- while I what? Sam interrupted his own thought. There was no way he was leaving Gabriel. Not in this lifetime. This was a giant discovery and a fantastic help to his case but not at the cost of Gabriel. Gabriel was worth everything.

Gabriel was everything good that existed in world wrapped in one small package. Fuck that. This shit could stay here and Sam would pray to all the gods, Loki in particular, that it was still here when they got back.

He walked back to Gabriel who looked at him apprehensively. Sam knew that he knew what he’d been thinking about. Gabriel knew him all too well.

“You don’t want me to stay?”

Sam shook his head and told Gabriel what he’d just thought.

“You’re everything good this world has to offer wrapped in one small, sweet smelling body. I’m not letting you go. Not in this lifetime, sweetheart.”

With that, Sam bent and picked up the love of his life and slowly they made their way towards the door.

They’d taken less than five steps when a side door banged open. Sam’s eye twitched as he turned to see who it was and he almost dropped Gabriel in relief when he saw it was Dean.

Dean was covered up in head to toe tactical gear, wearing what was probably all of his guns and the left overs were currently being clutched in Cas’s hands. Cas who was a pacifist, who did’t even kill insects, was dressed just like Dean.

Sam couldn’t help it. He threw his head back and laughed.

“Looks like calvary has arrived.” He smiled down at Gabriel, who gave a small wave at their brothers, a wry grin on his face.

“No one is here but us.” He informed Dean, who lowered his weapon and indicated at Cas to do the same. Cas looked relieved. Sam adjusted Gabriel on one arm and held his hand out for one of Cas’s weapons.

“Here. Give me that. Do you even know how to shoot?”

Dean snorted. “I’ve taken him to the range a couple of times but he’s not very good.”

“Hey!” Cas squawked indignantly. “You said I was your backup. The Robin to your Batman.”

“Of course, angel.” Dean gave Cas a kiss on the cheek while Cas grumbled but handed the gun over.

“How’d you even find us?”

“Your phones GPS. We did that “share your location shit” a long time ago, remember? I never took you off and I guess you didn’t take me off either.”

“Shit. I had a phone this whole time? I completely forgot.”

Dean shook his head.

“I don’t think so. It started moving again about fifteen minutes ago. We figured you dropped it in the van.”

“Well, do you have your phone? See all those boxes. It’s all cocaine. We need to get the cops here and the boxes fingerprinted to see if we can get Lucifer that way.”

Dean was already pulling out his phone and dialing.

“This is 9-1-1. What is your emergency?”

“This is ADA Winchester. I’ve been kidnapped and I need patrol and Detective Turner to show up at the warehouse on the edge of Pier 39. There are approximately 20 or 25 boxes of cocaine that I need fingerprinted and processed immediately.”

“Also, please send an ambulance. My boyfriend has a broken leg.”

“They’ve been dispatched, ADA Winchester. Will you still be on location?”

Sam looked at his brother, wondering if they had enough ammo should the situation warrant it. Of course they did, it was Dean. He probably had ALL his ammo.

“Yes, we will. Please let them know we’re armed in case we need it. We’re four and we’re friendlies.”

“Yes, sir.”

Sam hung up and handed the phone back to Dean before adjusting Gabriel again.

“Let’s take him out to the Impala.” Dean said. “We can wait there.”

Sam nodded but froze when the door opened behind them.

Then a voice spoke.

“Gabriel. Castiel. Brothers. It’s good to see you both again.”

Chapter Text

All four men turned to look at the newcomer, who spoke with an elegant British accent. He was wearing pinstripe dress pants, a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, suspenders and a black fucking fedora. His hair was blonde, what Sam could see of it anyway and his eyes were grey and twinkling.

Sam knew it wasn’t Lucifer but that rose the question, who the fuck was he? He was about to voice his inquiry when Dean beat him to the punch, pointing both weapons towards the new guy (brother? Another brother?). “Who the fuck are you?”

“I wonder if it wouldn’t be best to have this conversation elsewhere. I’d hate to be here when Luci gets back, don’t you think, big brother? Little brother?”

Gabriel and Castiel both gasped.

“It can’t be. We thought you were-“ Gabriel spoke first.

The newcomer snorted, “Dead? That was the bloody point.”

“Who is he, Cas?” Dean asked, not taking his eyes off the stranger.

“I believe it is my brother, Balthazar, Dean. If it is, we have no need to fear.”

Dean scoffed. “Really? Because from where I’m standing the only decent ones so far are you and Gabriel. We don’t know this guy, hell, YOU don’t know this guy, why should we trust him? I could shoot him and claim self defense.”

Balthazar rolled his eyes. “You must be Dean. Frank told me you were a little rough around the edges. Please gentlemen, if I were so inclined, you’d all already be dead. As it stands, Lucifer has bothered this family for the last time and I have the information ADA Winchester needs to put him away for the rest of his natural life. After that, well, he can become the ruler of hell for all I care. It would be fitting after all.”

With that Balthazar turned his back on them and headed back out the door, his pants elegantly tailored so they highlighted his legs and ass spectacularly. Of course Sam was a one man’s man and not gay (with the exception of Gabriel, of course), but even he could appreciate how finely dressed the other man was.

“How is he not cold?” He muttered to Gabriel.

“It sounds like he’s been in England. It’s colder there than it is here. He probably isn’t even feeling our winter.”

“Lucky bastard,” shivered Sam who could feel the cold even though his jacket.

Sam started towards the door when Dean spoke up.

“Are we seriously just going to trust him?”

Sam shrugged. “It sounds like Gabriel and Cas both vouch for him and that’s good enough for me.”

Dean threw up his hands in aggravation but ultimately shouldered his weapons and followed the other three out the door.

Outside they were greeted by a limo, a man dressed in a black suit and black sunglasses standing at ease by the back door. As soon as he spotted them or rather, Balthazar, he moved to immediately open the door.

“Lay him down here, would you? His leg looks broken, he needs to go to a hospital.”

Sam eyed Balthazar warily. It was one thing to think he was being honest but a whole ‘nother thing to deposit the most precious thing in Sam’s life in his care.

“Only if I can come with and only I have two of Dean’s weapon’s with me.”

Balthazar rolled his eyes. “Why am I not surprised? It’s like a sodding Clint Eastwood movie here in the States. Sure, I don’t give shite. Grab whatever the fuck you want and lets get going.”

“Samshine, you don’t have to-“

“Shut up, Gabe. I already told you, I’m not leaving you.” Sam said firmly, getting into the car as gently as possible so he wouldn’t jostle Gabriel more than necessary. As it was, he’d already seen him wince once or twice and that bothered Sam. He settled in and looked up to see Dean peering at him through the door.

“Will you be alright little brother?”

“Yes.”

“Ok, then, Cas and I will see you at the hospital.”

Dean closed the door and Sam watched his brother jog to the Impala where Cas was already seated and staring out the window. He turned back to Balthazar, adjusting the gun in his grip where he held it underneath Gabriel’s legs. Balthazar merely rolled his eyes at him again.

“So you’re Samuel Winchester?”

Sam winced. “Just Sam is fine.”

“Ok, Just Sam. I’m Balthazar, younger brother to Gabriel, older brother to Cassie. I live in England. I left home when I was a mere lad of sixteen. I never told but I saw Lucifer poison my mother. I just didn’t realize what was happening at the time. I didn’t know that’s what that was. Anyways, I’ll leave my life story out but suffice it to say that once I was able to, I got in contact with a very good PI here, his name is Frank. I’ve had him following my family for a very long time and whilst I know Gabriel and Cassie are fine, Lucifer needs to go down. I have a massive case against him. Imagine my surprise when I find out that you and Gabriel seem to be getting closer and you’re the ADA and you’re in charge of the case against dear ol Luci right now. It seems that the universe has all its ducks in a row. So here I am.”

He smiled at them but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. He took a sip of whiskey he’d gotten from a decanter sitting to the left of him while he was saying his piece and just stared at Gabriel. Sam could feel the sadness rolling in waves off of Gabriel and could feel the barely restrained anger wafting off Balthazar.

“I’ll take your information but there’s a condition to my accepting it.”

Balthazar’s eyebrows rose in surprise.
“Which is?”

“You are not to harm Gabriel. Or Cas.” He added as an afterthought.

“You realize I can hand the case off to some other up and coming hot shot lawyer, right?”

Sam shrugged. “So be it.” He was surprised by how much he meant it. He loved law but he was starting to see that it shouldn’t make up his entire life. There was so much of the world out there, why should he stay within the confines of a few square miles? He realized it was Gabriel’s outlook on life, the fact that he’d done so much in his short life, that had changed Sam’s way of thinking as well. There would be other cases. This wouldn’t be the last major case to fall into his lap. Besides, Sam thought, pressing Gabriel a little closer to him as though to protect him, Gabriel was worth more than all the cases put together.

He looked back up at Balthazar just in time to something akin to approval pass his face.

“You seem like a smart and nice guy. Not to mention handsome. Allow me to alert you, however, that I am very rich. Should you harm my brother, no one will ever find your body.”

“Is that a threat?” Sam asked coldly. “Allow me to remind YOU, that I’m the ADA.”

Balthazar merely shrugged lazily. “Take it however you want, I don’t care. I have enough money to do whatever the fuck I want and get away with it.”

“Stop.” Gabriel stepped in, eyeing his brother.

“I’m just saying-“

“I don’t care what you’re saying. You’re sounding like Lucifer, so stop, Balthy.”

Balthazar turned red and had the decency to look embarrassed. “Sorry.” He muttered at Sam.

Sam huffed out a laugh. “Honestly, it’s ok. We don’t know each other. You’re trying to protect your brother and I can respect that. I hope we can get to know each other better. Are you coming to stay?” Sam asked, throwing him a bone.

Balthazar made a face but he sighed and responded. “Honestly, I don’t know. I suppose it’ll all depend on how this all goes down. I don’t really want to stay, my home and life are in England but I won’t deny that it’s been so good to see my family again.”

“So…you and my brother? All my reports stated that you were most likely straight.”

Sam blushed. “Yeah, well your brother has a way of making even the most straight of men turn over a new leaf it seems.”

Balthazar snorted. “Yes, that sounds accurate.”

With a jolt Sam realized they hadn’t waited on the police officers to get there before leaving, hell, they hadn’t even waited on the ambulance. He was about to tell Balthazar to go back when he realized they were at the hospital’s emergency entrance. Sam made to open the door but Balthazar waved him off, telling him to wait as he finished his drink. Sam was about to get irritated but then the door opened and Sam realized Balthazar had merely been waiting on the driver to get it. Sam rolled his eyes. Rich people.

A couple of EMT’s were waiting by the door and they took Gabriel from him and gently lowered him onto the gurney. Gabriel moaned as they lowered his leg and Sam winced. His own ankle was still throbbing and he’d have them look at it too but only after he got Gabriel situated.

Sam was nudged by Dean who handed him his phone.

“Hello?”

“ADA Winchester?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“This is Detective Bradbury, I’m at the scene with Detective Turner and well, you were nowhere to be found so we thought we’d give you a call and make sure you were alright.”

“Yes, I’m sorry. I realized after we left that y’all would be showing up. We ended up catching a ride and getting my friend to the hospital. That’s where we are now.”

“A friend?”

“Yes, a friend.”

There was a beat of silence and then she spoke again. “Ok, well I’m on my way there now. I’ll have to take your statement as well as everyone else’s that was there.”

“Um, ok.”

Sam knew he was sounding a bit shady but there wasn’t much he could do for it. He didn’t know what Balthazar wanted to do and somehow Sam felt a sort of loyalty to Gabriel’s family first.

Hanging up, he handed the phone back to Dean. “What was that all about?” Quickly Sam explained before looking at Balthazar. “I didn’t tell them you were there.” He was offering him an out. Something that was illegal but again…

Sam exhaled in relief when Balthazar shrugged. “No skin off my bones, mate. I don’t mind talking to them.”

Once Gabriel was taken in to surgery, Sam went and checked himself in. He was right, it was a bad sprain. They gave him painkillers and wrapped it up for him and pretty soon he felt floaty and carefree. Dean laughed at him. Balthazar snorted and put his arm around him. Cas gave him one of his tiny smiles.

Sam snuggled in a little closer to Balthazar and reached one hand up to steal his fedora before plopping it on his head and falling promptly to sleep.

________________

All of his merchandise was gone by the time he made it to the warehouse. He’d gotten there earlier but it had been teeming with cops so he had to watch angrily, hidden in the goddamn shadows like a mere homeless man, before being able to go in.
He stopped out of the bushes and brushed off his dark gray pants and straightened his matching vest before pocketing the cufflinks and rolling up his sleeves. He was irritated by how dirty his normally impeccable shoes were but there was nothing to be done for them now. He took wide strides until he reached the doors and pushed them open.

Sure enough, there was nothing. He was beyond angry and he pulled his phone out, heard one ring and then- “Yes boss?”

“Yes boss, nothing, you blithering idiot. Nothing is here anymore. Not my brother, not the ADA and NOT MY PRODUCT.” He screamed into the phone. He threw it against the wall when the moron who worked for him started blustering and stammering. Clearly when you wanted something done right, you had to do it yourself.

There was a time when his brother had been on his side and then he left and now he was alone. But he’d had it with that imbecile’s threats. It was time to take him out. He was going to take them all out. The ADA, the brother and both of his brother’s. They didn’t deserve to be happy and playing house when his world was crumbling around him, when he was effectively been choked and strangled by all the accusations against him and if he was going down, so were they. They’d never even see it coming.

________________

Sam was nudged awake roughly an hour later by his brother informing him that the detectives were there and wanted to talk to him. Apparently Dean and Cas had already given their statements and they were just waiting on Sam and Balthazar.

“Is Gabriel out yet?” Sam asked, stretching his arms over his head, relishing the feeling of his bones popping back into place.

Dean shook his head. “I just asked. He is out of surgery but it won’t be until another thirty minutes til he awakens and then from there we have to wait for him to be taken back into his room so we still have a little bit.”

“Ok. But if I’m still talking by the time they say it’s ok for us to go see him, come get me ok?”

Dean nodded his acquiescence and as he led Sam to the detective, a fiery red female Sam assumed was Detective Bradbury, he saw Balthazar step away towards the exit and Sam wondered for a moment if he’d still be around when Sam came back out. Balthazar seemed to sense Sam’s eyes because he turned and they locked eyes for a moment and Sam looked up to see that he’d taken his fedora back. Sam was rumpled as was Dean but Balthazar still looked immaculate. Balthazar nodded at him and Sam took that to mean that he would still be there and he turned back to the detective.

“Hi. I’m ADA Winchester. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Hi there. I’m Detective Bradbury but you can call me Charlie. Or Detective Badass if you must.” Sam’s lips twitched upward.

“She’s great isn’t she?” Dean breathed. Sam was not surprised to find his brother still there. He wasn’t normally fond of cops since they all worked with “big brother” but he understood that Dean must have taken a shining to the detective. She was charming. Quirky.

“Like the little sister I never knew I wanted.” Dean said. Sam laughed. “Go away Dean.”

“Yeah yeah, bitch. I’ll be over there sitting with Cas. Lemme know if you need anything.”

“Ok jerk. Thanks.”

Dean walked away and Sam sat with the detective and rehashed everything over with her, this time including Balthazar in the story.

“And he is?”

“Gabriel and Lucifer’s younger brother, Cas’s older.”

“And how did he know where to find you?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. But he showed up in a limo. He oozes money. I wouldn’t put it past him to have had someone running surveillance on them, us, whatever.”

Detective Badass nodded as she jotted stuff in her notebook.

“Ok. Thank you for all the info. I’ll speak to him now.”

“Hang on, I called the police so that they would quickly process the cocaine. Do you know if they were able to do that?”

“Oh! Yes, we got it all and it’s processing right now. If the prints are in the system they’ll show up.”

“Keep me in the loop, would ya?”

“Sure.”

Sam walked back over to Dean and sat down. He looked around for Balthazar but didn’t see him and his heart sank for the shit storm that would bring his way but in a sense he couldn’t really blame him. He’d been gone for a long time. He was used to being alone. He probably didn’t want to be around his crazy brother anymore than Sam wanted to be.

Charlie looked over at Sam and arched her brow. Sam shrugged and looked away. There wasn’t anything he could do.

__________________

Balthazar walked the hallways of the hospital before coming across an outside courtyard. Peering through the dark windows he ensured no one was out there before stepping outside. He needed privacy for what he was going to do.

He quickly rang one of his men.

“Where you able to do it?”

“Yes, sir.”
“Any movement?”

“Yes sir. After the policemen left. About ten minutes later.”

“Send me the feed if you would be so kind.”

“Right away sir.”

Balthazar ended the call and waited impatiently, tapping his foot on the concrete ground while he waited for said link to appear on his phone. Less than two minutes later he had it and he opened the live feed. The warehouse was empty now. He rewound it until he saw the cops leaving and played it from there. Sure enough, not too long after, there was his brother, stepping out from the shadows looking for all the world like the boogeyman all mothers warn their young ones about.

Balthazar watched as he strode purposely towards the doors before flinging them open. Heard him place the call to his henchmen and chew them out, watched as he threw the phone against the wall in a tantrum that befit only Lucifer and then walk back out.

“Oh yes, brother. I’ve got you now.” Balthazar uttered under his breath with glee.

He closed the link and turned to go back inside.

Fuck. He was locked out.

_________________

It was another three hours before Gabriel was released and Sam had sighed both from tiredness and relief. Balthazar had stepped out to do god knows what and had gotten locked out. It hadn’t been until someone was walking by that he was able to knock and be allowed back in. By then Detective Bradbury had left and put an APB out on him until Sam called and told her he’d been there the whole time. Turned out that she was going to be accompanying Detective Turner to their Thanksgiving as she didn’t have any family so she said she’d wait to take the statement the next day.

Gabriel was doing ok. He was extremely efficient. As soon as he was no longer groggy he’d been on the phone asking employees to cover for him on Friday and letting those that accepted know that he’d be paying them double time as they were doing him a favor instead of getting to go shopping on Black Friday. Luckily the bakeries were closed on Thanksgiving.

Dean and Cas left to their respective home and Balthazar dropped Gabriel and Sam off at Gabriel’s house with the promise of picking them up later that day (since it was technically already Thursday) and taking them to Bobby’s. Sam had extended an invitation to him and his driver and he’d accepted. It was going to be a full house. For some reason that made Sam happy. For a while now he’d had only his family and he loved them but he hadn’t realized that he was lonely until Gabriel came along and turned his world upside down. He loved Gabriel. Again he was hit with a pang of regret as he thought about the time lost. Only the knowledge of the future together gave him a small amount of comfort.

Sam got Gabriel settled in the bed as comfortably as possible and then stood back from the bed. “I’ll be right back.” He walked out before Gabriel could say anything. He went and put on his favorite pj’s the ones he’d left behind the night he’d left and then walked back in. Gabriel looked up at him.
“I’m staying with you.” Sam said firmly. Gabriel smiled the sweet smile Sam had only ever seen directed at him and patted the bed next to him. Sam let out a breathe he hadn’t known he’d been holding in and slid under the covers. Then he flipped over and looked over at Gabriel who was turned facing him.

“Crazy day.”

“Yeah, lil bit.”

“Where’d they get you?” Sam finally got to ask Gabriel what he’d been wondering the whole time.

“Bakery.”

“I’m sorry.” Sam said. He understood Gabriel’s short answers. He couldn’t imagine what it would feel like if Dean ever turned on him like that. Once again he sent up a prayer of thanks to whomever was out there that he’d gotten him as a brother.

Gabriel understood what he was saying. His eyes filled with tears and one of them slipped out. Sam’s thumb came up to wipe it away. “I loved him, you know? When we were young and happy we used to play epic prank wars on each other and even more so, we’d team up and play them against Michael and Raphael. I don’t know what changed. I think it’s when my dad got remarried. Luci just couldn’t take the change and he turned. Became cruel. Even to me. Pretty soon he and Michael were at war and I knew I’d lost him when he started turning on me and beating me up for not immediately siding with him.”

After a few moments Sam spoke. “I know he’s your brother but I honest to God hate him. And I don’t say that lightly. I don’t think I hate anyone. But him? Yeah, I do. But for you, I’m sorry. I’m sorry you lost the brother you had. I’m sorry that he made you afraid of standing up to him. I’m sorry that his goons broke your leg. I’m sorry for the future too because, Gabe, I’m taking him down. And I don’t know if you’re going to be his lawyer and I probably shouldn’t even be talking to you but I need you to know that even if you do, I will understand if you feel duty bound and I’m still going to be here after it’s all over.”

Gabriel eyed him before bringing a hand up to his hair and brushing a few strands that had fallen over his eyes away. “I’m not Samheart. I’m not going to be his lawyer. I told him I was going to leave him alone if he left you alone and he didn’t. I don’t know what Balthazar has against him but I know what I do and I’m going to lose my license once I give it to you but I don’t care. It’s not like I need it. It’s not like I want to be a lawyer anyway.”

“Apparently,” he continued, “I’m willing to let a lot of things go but you, Sam Winchester, you’re not one of them.”

Sam smiled although it was a sad smile. He knew just how much Gabriel was giving up and it hurt him that again he was being forced to do something for someone he loved that he didn’t want to do.

“Don’t give me anything, Gabe. Let me see what Balthazar has first, let me see what I can get off of that. I don’t want you to lose your license. I really don’t.”

Gabriel put his hand in his and squeezed it. “Thank you Sammy.”

Sam smiled, a wider smile this time. “So…lawyer, huh?” With a glint of humor in his eyes.

Gabriel smiled back and huffed out a laugh. “Yeah. Other than baking, I think that’s been my favorite job. I enjoyed writing the book but being an author is a lonely job, it takes a real introvert and that I am not. I like being around people. I liked dancing and singing but ultimately that was for someone else plus I spent all my weekends working, ya know? With the bakery, I have my own hours and I still get to sing and play. I actually hadn’t done it in a while but when I did karaoke that night I realized I missed it and I started doing it at the cafe.”

“What kind of lawyer were you? I’m guessing criminal?”

“Not initially. I was a family advocacy lawyer. I liked taking care of kiddos. I worked closely with social workers and sometimes conducted my own investigations.”

Sam nodded. He could totally see Gabriel doing that.

“The kids loved you, didn’t they?” He asked softly, settling in closer to Gabriel, rubbing the back of his hand with his thumb.

Gabriel smiled but his eyes filled up again. “They really did. I felt like it was what I was made to do. Until my brother. He got into trouble and I sat in the courtroom and listened as his lawyer nearly screwed him over. At the time I thought my brother was innocent so I went back and switched over to criminal law so that I could be the one to help him out. That was when I found out that I was wrong. He wasn’t innocent. Far from it actually.”

“We don’t have to talk about that Gabe.” Sam told Gabriel running his hand softly on Gabriel’s cheek.

“Yeah, Samshine? What do you want to talk about then?”

But Sam didn’t want to talk and he took the opportunity he wanted when Gabriel briefly closed his eyes. He leaned forward and kissed Gabriel’s forehead, then his nose, and finally, FINALLY captured his lips. Gabriel immediately opened for him letting out a low moan that hit Sam right in the groin when the vibration behind it hit him. Sam loved the way Gabriel moan into him, like he was finally coming home and Sam understood it completely. He opened his mouth wider, trying his damnedest to take Gabriel in as much as possible. He mapped out his mouth with his tongue, tasting him and loving it. His hand roamed over Gabriel down the sides of his ass down the thigh of his good leg before moving over it and flitting just over his dick. Gabriel sucked in a sharp breath and Sam pulled away.

“Can I try something?” He asked hesitantly, not really at all sure he wanted to try what he was asking.

Gabriel eyed him. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for, Samshine. This is enough for now.”

“I know, I just want to try is all.”

“Ok.”

Sam licked his lips as he kissed Gabriel again and then slowly moved a little downward kissing his neck, sucking on it, leaving marks for all the world to see before moving on to his clavicle. He sucked a few marks there then used his hands to push the shirt up and over Gabriel’s head. He resumed the kissing, letting his mouth travel all over Gabriel’s chest. He thought he would have noticed the absence of breasts but it seemed that Gabriel was right on the money. When you loved the soul, the body was secondary. If you loved the soul then you loved the body no matter what it looked like. Sam pulled Gabriel’s nipple lightly, enjoying Gabriel’s hands running through his hair, before moving to the left and doing the same there. Nip, blow, kiss, repeat.

“Oh, Samheart. That feels so good. Don’t stop.”

Sam had no plan to. He kissed down to Gabriel’s hipbones, enjoying the way it made Gabriel jump when he sucked there.

“Ticklish Gabe?”

“N-no?”

He was enjoying leaving Gabriel speechless. He was doing that. Leaving Gabriel of all people speechless. How had they even gotten here? Sam almost paused but the noises Gabriel was making were too addictive and he wanted to hear more.

Finally he was at his destination. He nudged Gabriel’s good leg to the side and looked. It was his first time looking at a dick that wasn’t his (well, besides the few times he’d walked in on his brother but that didn’t count, ew) and he took a moment to take it in. He started to get nervous but when he realized that he was nervous about making it good for Gabriel, not nervous because he was straight ( and, boy, hadn’t that joke been on him?) Sam relaxed and slowly raised one hand and palmed Gabriel. Gabriel made a noise that sounded strangled. It jolted Sam and he looked up at Gabriel who was eyeing him intentionally as he pushed Sam’s pillow behind his back in an effort to sorta sit up.

“You ok, Samshine?” He whispered.

Sam didn’t respond. Instead he looked back down at the dick he was currently holding, albeit underneath pj’s, and leaned in to it, pushing a breath of warm air on it, before putting his mouth around it and sucking. He heard Gabriel’s breath hitch and looked up to see Gabriel breathing harshly.

“You alright there?”

“You don’t understand. It’s a culmination of a blow job and you. You, Sam Winchester. I feel like I’m in a dream.”

Sam could hear the sincerity in Gabriel’s voice and that gave him the strength to do what he did next. He slowly pulled Gabriel’s pj’s bottoms down. Just enough to let his dick spring out and again Sam took a moment just to stare. It was big. Definitely not something he would have imagined Gabriel to have. It wasn’t longer than his but only by a little bit and the girth was the same, meaning Gabriel probably had to use XL condoms too unless he was into a weird sort of asphyxiation of the dick play. Probably not. Of course, it was Gabriel so who knew? It had a thick vein running on the underside of it and Gabriel was circumcised while Sam was not. Another difference was that Gabriel was completely hair free. Completely. All in all it really wasn’t that weird and Sam took advantage of how relaxed he was to lean forward and lick the drop of pre-cum that was on the head.

Hmm, didn’t really have a taste. A little salty but it was cum, what did he expect? So Sam leaned back in a licked some more. All around the head before slowly licking the underside of it, up and down. When he finally remembered Gabriel he looked up to see Gabriel’s face very flush, biting his lip, hands clutching the blankets.

Sam loved the way he looked and when they made eye contact, Sam couldn’t help but smirk at the way Gabriel’s pupils were way past dilated; he looked down quickly and positioned himself then looked back up at Gabriel through his lashes, keeping eye contact, as he slowly leaned down and took the head into his mouth. He took it in as much as he could before pulling back up, Gabriel’s dick sliding out of his mouth with a resounding pop.

“Damn Sammy. I’d hate to have seen what you could have been like if you hadn’t been straight.”

Sam laughed, smile wide and dimpled. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”

“My response is whatever will get me more of that.”

“Ok, but just hang on.”

Sam pulled himself back up and went back to kissing Gabriel. Sucking dick wasn’t so bad but it was nowhere near as sweet as kissing Gabriel. He loved kissing Gabriel. “Have I mentioned to you that I love kissing you?” He spoke softly at Gabriel. His hand was still around Gabriel’s dick, his long arms and body affording him the ability to do such a thing. Gabriel’s dick was wet with his saliva and that turned Sam on, knowing that it was his.

Gabriel nodded shyly, casting his eyes down.

“Hey now, none of that. I told you you deserve it all, deserve to be loved, to be cherished, to be worshipped.”

Sam gave him another soft peck before making his way down again. He traced his tongue slowly up and down Gabriel’s shaft again, taking him into his mouth deeper and deeper and experimenting with his tongue, doing things he enjoyed being done on him and applying that knowledge until he felt Gabriel’s hands tugging his hair up.

“Stop Sammy, I’m about to cum.”

“So?”

“I don’t want to cum in your mouth. You won’t like it and I don’t want to scare you off.”

The thoughtfulness hit Sam. Here he was again, putting Sam in front of himself. Holding back. Doing everything he could to ensure Sam would stay. That broke Sam’s heart. He didn’t want Gabriel to tip toe around him. He wanted Gabriel. All of Gabriel.

Sam narrowed his eyes in retaliation and took Gabriel’s dick deeper than he had previously, really testing the limits of his gag reflex, all while Gabriel chanted his name. He repeated it a few more times before he felt Gabriel stiffen and then he was cumming down Sam’s throat. And it really wasn’t so bad. Thick and hot but not bad.

Sam flopped on Gabriel’s side, panting as though he was the one who’d just cum.

“You want me to return the favor? U can sit on my face.” Gabriel asked him a few moments later as he pulled his pj’s back up.

“Not necessary. Believe it or not that was as much fun for me as it was for you. I’m pretty sure I came with you actually.”

“Hmmm.” Gabriel said sleepily.

“Go to sleep sweetheart.”

“You’ll still be here when I wake up, right?”

“Always.”

Chapter Text

Thanksgiving was a big affair that day. Of course Sam, Dean, Gabriel and Cas were there with Bobby, Ellen and Jo but so was Detective Turner and Detective Bradbury, Balthazar, his driver, and the odd balls out, Ruby and Milo.

A few hours after Sam and Gabriel had gone to sleep, Sam awoke to a loud knocking coming from the front door. Groggily he’d opened it only to find Dean smirking at him. “Rise and shine, sunshine.”

“How the fuck are you bright eyed and bushy tailed?”

“You know I’m good with late nights. Come on now, chop chop. Get moving. And I don’t want to hear any bitchin’.” Dean clapped his hands as Sam glared and give him his best bitch face before turning to let him in, Cas following behind him.

It wasn’t easy getting Gabriel dressed, having to work around his leg and all but between the three of them they managed it and Gabriel looked dashing in wide legged black slacks that gave off the impression of bell bottoms but fit comfortably over his cast. They were something that on anyone else Sam would have laughed at put on Gabriel…well, suffice it to say that Sam had come to the conclusion that Gabriel could pull anything off.

The pants had very minute, barely there silver pinstripes and Gabriel had paired it with a cashmere violet sweater, smiling sweetly at Sam as he chose it and told him it reminded him of him. Sam had blushed.

As for Sam, he’d chosen one of the dressier outfits he’d had Kevin help him select. He was sporting a dressy pair of jeans with a black button down that only showed a design when you folded back the sleeves, the way he had them. It was a purple paisley print and Sam loved that he and Gabriel were coordinating. Of course Sam was wearing his gold necklace.

Once they’d arrived at Bobby and Ellen’s they had all been subjected to a flurry of activity that consisted of Ellen fussing over them for what they’d endured the past couple of days, admonishing Sam for taking on such a hazardous to his health case, like he’d chosen it purposely. Sam good-naturedly rolled his eyes but accepted the attention. He knew it was Ellen’s way of displaying affection, not being very touchy-feely. Sam enjoyed the way Gabriel’s face lit up at the attention and vowed to keep bringing him as much as he could so that Gabriel could get the same “mom” affection Sam had basically grown up with.

Whilst it was just them, that is to say before Ruby and Milo showed up, Sam, Gabriel, and the detectives (with Balthazar inserting his own sarcastic tidbits from time to time) had explained everything to the others and the detectives explained why Ruby had to be there. Needless to say neither Bobby or Ellen were pleased to have to share their holiday with someone who could be responsible for some of the trouble that had come Sam’s way but ultimately they understood and agreed to be polite although that notion had Jo all but throwing a tantrum. To say Jo was pissed was putting it lightly and before Ruby arrived all references to her where in the “bitch this” or “bitch that” fashion. Sam bit his lip to hide his smile each time. Again he was hit with the notion that family wise he was beyond blessed and although they weren’t near the time to start making resolutions Sam made one then and there. He was going to spend more time with his family.

He knew he was loved obviously but there was something that really made it hit home when he saw the worry lines fill Ellen’s usually no nonsense face, the way Bobby grumbled more than usual or even the way he berated Detective Turner’s for not having had a cop on Sam’s protective detail already. It was in the way Jo punched her fist into her hand and promised retribution and the way Dean brought his guns and ammo with him. It was in the way Cas had dressed in tactical gear the previous night and the way Gabriel was willing to lose his license for him. Sam was a lucky bastard. If nothing else, this case had opened his eyes to that. A sliver of silver lining in an otherwise shitty situation.

Ruby arrived in a cloud of perfume that made Sam sneeze and was a whirlwind of air blown kisses exchanged with the other women although Jo had looked her up and down, lips in a thin line before reluctantly leaning in, while smiling coyly at the men. Until she met Gabriel who was sitting in Bobby’s chair with his leg up, cast sticking out underneath his pant leg.

“So you’re Gabriel.”

“I am.”

“Sam talks about you a lot.”

“He’s mentioned you once or twice as well.” Sam ducked to hide his smile at Gabriel’s obvious diss. “Once or twice” was, of course, not “a lot”. Next to him, Dean had no such qualms and openly snorted. Ruby narrowed her eyes at Gabriel before turning to Sam and reaching up to give him a kiss on the lips. It took everything Sam had to not step back. Especially when she turned and smiled at Gabriel, all shark, smugness radiating on her face. Instead he turned and grabbed a pillow from the couch next to him and walked over to Gabriel under the pretense of putting it under his leg to ensure it remained elevated, grateful when he heard Ellen talk to Ruby and hopefully turn her attention away from him.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered to Gabriel.

Gabriel shrugged nonchalantly but Sam could see right through it. Gabriel was close to tears and Sam hated it. Hated himself, hated Ruby, Lucifer and everyone involved. He took a deep breathe and thought about how to get rid of Ruby and an idea had just hit him when another voice spoke up.

“Gabriel, mio tesoro, what on earth happened?”

Sam stiffened. He’d forgotten about Milo. Still on a crouch, Sam turned and there he was, impeccably dressed in a three piece black suit that screamed money, cufflinks peeking out from underneath his suit jacket. Hair combed back looking dark and glossy, shoes shined within an inch of their life and positively reeking of cologne. Sam suddenly felt severely under dressed. He felt like a silly little boy attempting to keep up with this man who probably knew how to do all the things Sam was barely learning.

Milo looked down his regal nose at Sam.

“Oh, it’s you. Again.”

Sam turned a bit red and he looked down, unsure of what to say when Cas of all people spoke up. “This is his family. You knew that before you accepted the invitation Milo. Although you are welcome to leave should you so desire.”

Heads swiveled to stare at Cas who simply took another sip of the whiskey and coke he was drinking while Dean stood next to him, looking please as punch.

Milo recovered quickly. “Right. Of course. I meant nothing by it of course. It was merely an observation.”

Cas simply nodded at him, head tilted in his usual serious manner and Sam hid his own smirk when Milo fidgeted in front of him while Cas pinned him in place with his stare. No one was safe from those deep blue eyes it seemed. Not Dean, not Sam and not even the Italian foreigner who wanted what was Sam’s. Finally Cas dropped his stare and effectively ended the conversation by turning to Ellen and starting a conversation with her about the new decor he’d noticed.

“Son? Can I talk to you for a moment?”

Sam turned to see Detective Turner looking at Gabriel and then him. Sam nodded before standing.

“You going to be ok, Gabe?” He asked Gabriel softly. Gabriel nodded and smiled sunnily at him so Sam turned and followed Rufus through the entrance where he followed his example and put his jacket back on. Rufus led him outside. They stood on the porch underneath the light for a moment, the crisp cold air making each of their exhales visible. After a moment Rufus spoke. “I’m going to ask you a question and please, please don’t take offense if I’m wrong.”

“Okay.” Sam said slowly.

“Are you and Gabriel together?”

Sam took a beat to respond, wondering where Rufus was leading with this.

“It’s a fairly new development but yes.”

“Son. When I told you to keep her invitation it was because I was under the notion that y’all were together. I never would have said that if your significant other was going to be here. That’s just wrong.”

“Yeah, I wondered if there was any way around it but keeping her close is important to the case.”

Rufus huffed. “Yeah, but it’s not more important than the feelings of the person you love.”

Sam froze. Holy shit. Rufus was right. What had he done?

“I didn’t think about that.” He admitted.

“It’s ok. It’s going to be ok. I’m going to have someone pick her up. We’ve only gotten a little bit of information on her back and that alone isn’t enough to hold her but what does help is that your assistant knew she wanted in to your office and then he gets called away and suddenly your office is opened and your file is stolen. That’s enough for us to hold her. Usually it would only be enough to hold her for an hour or so but it’s Thanksgiving. She’ll be there all night and hopefully by tomorrow we’ll have what we need.”

“That soon?”

Rufus shrugged. “We were told only a couple of days. Hopefully they didn’t take Thanksgiving off. It’s the computer doing all the work anyway so yeah, I have a good feeling about tomorrow.”

Sam brightened up. “Then, yes, please, by all means. Get her out of here.”

Rufus nodded. “For what it’s worth, I think you made the right choice there. That woman’s perfume was giving me hives.”

Sam laughed and they both headed back inside.

Inside, Dean and Cas were setting up Twister much to Gabriel’s glee and the chagrin of Ellen and Bobby.

“My bones aren’t what they used to be, boy.” Bobby was telling Dean, gruffly.

“Aw, come on old man. Just a round or two won’t kill ya.” Dean was smiling brightly at Bobby and Sam stood in the doorway to watch the way his brother’s face lit up. Before Cas, Dean had been massively different. He’d been broody. Drank a lot. Worked and drank and bugged Sam. He still did that of course but before Cas even that was different. He’d get together with Sam about once a week but sometimes it was more perfunctory than anything else. Sam had at times gotten the impression that his brother was doing it out of obligation.

Finding Cas had loosened something in Dean. If Sam had to put a name on it, he’d say it had made Dean the person he was always meant to be. Sam took a quick moment to send a prayer to whatever deity was responsible for the day Cas had crossed paths with Dean. It had been at Gabriel’s bakery. Because of course it was. Gabriel turned everything he touched into gold and it bled into other things, making everything he touched better. Sam turned to look at Gabriel who was laughing at Dean’s antics. The sheer joy on his face made Sam’s breath catch.

He loved Gabriel. Gabriel. Gabriel who he’d at one time despised. Gabriel who he’d complained having to spend time with. Gabriel who had serenaded him multiple times in his usual cheerful manner, who made fruit with dark chocolate just for him, Gabriel who introduced him to flavored coffee, who made sure to have the milk and coke Sam drank on hand. Who made him Chinese food. Who took the time to find the perfect beanie so he’d match with his car. Whose favorite color was the same as his. He loved Gabriel, the self sacrificing idiot who offered him an out several times back at the warehouse, even at the cost of his own life. Sam shook his head. If it took him the rest of his life, he’d show Gabriel just how much he loved him by returning all the favors. He didn’t want Gabriel accept something he didn’t actually like just because he wanted Sam however he could take him. Which reminded him…

Sam crossed the living room and went to stand by Gabriel who looked up at him and smiled his sweet smile at Sam. Sam bent and whispered in his ear, “Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t want Ruby here?” Confusion filled Gabriel’s face. “Because your case is important?” He asked hesitantly. Sam looked into his eyes so that Gabriel could read the honesty there. “Not more important than your feelings Gabe. You may have to remind me of that from time to time but don’t make yourself uncomfortable just for me, do you understand? You’re important too, not just me.”

Gabriel looked pained and looked downward. Sam almost took a quick look around to make sure Ruby and Milo weren’t around but then decided he didn’t care if they were. Sam went around to the front of Gabriel’s chair and crouched down. He extended a hand and placing a finger under Gabriel’s chin, lifted it slowly, the sounds of the ruckus behind them slowly fading away, leaving just the two of them. Gabriel looked at him.

And there Sam voiced his vow, voice low but full of determination. “I will be what everyone else failed to be, Gabe. You and you alone are the most important person in my life. I want to share happiness with you but not just mine, yours too. I want to share downfalls with you but not just mine, yours too. What makes you happy will make me happy and what makes you sad will make me sad too. I’m not running, Gabe. I’m staying. I’m all in. I want all the Gabriel I can get. Always and forever. Not just in your dreams but in mine too.”

Unbeknownst to them the people in the background, sensing something important was happening, had quieted and Sam’s words were heard by all. Balthazar felt something constrict in his chest and Bobby flinched as he watched him take his glass of whiskey and down it. Dean shared a small private smile with Cas and reached over to take his hand and squeeze it. His own heart felt so full he thought it would burst. He had never known that he could have happiness like this. After a lifetime of one night stands and relationships that never went anywhere, he’d resigned himself to be a confirmed bachelor when he’d walked into Gabriel’s bakery and there Cas stood, off to the side, talking to Gabriel. Dean had taken him in from head to toe, in his usual manner of assessing danger, the way his dad had taught him, when he reached Cas’s eyes. Striking blue eyes had met his and Dean’s world stopped.

Through his own idiocy, their relationship almost never was but thankfully Cas was a stubborn son of a bitch and now Dean knew he’d live the rest of his days with the best person for him by his side. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for Cas and hearing his little brother now made him happy that it appeared that Sam had also found his soulmate. His anchor. Dean didn’t worry that Gabriel might hurt him, Gabriel had loved Sam far longer than he let on, he only hoped that Gabriel would feel secure in that love to let his guard down. Dean was smart enough to recognize that he and Gabriel were a lot alike and that particular feat had almost been his own downfall. Cas, however, had been able to tear through all of his defenses and he knew Sam would be able to do the same to Gabriel, if he hadn’t already. Dean wasn’t bitter though, no, Dean was happy.

Bobby watch Dean glance at Cas and smile and he had to hold back his own smile, lest his boys caught it and thought he was going soft. He didn’t know how he’d gotten so lucky in his long and sometimes miserable life. He thought it was all over when his first wife, Karen, died. He loved Karen and when she died something in him did too. But then the boys happened and slowly his cold dead heart started beating again and he found himself smiling some days. He still wasn’t sure how Ellen managed to worm herself in but he was thankful for it nonetheless. She was many things Karen hadn’t been, where Karen had been openly warm and welcoming, Ellen held her heart a bit closer before opening up but once she did she was all gruff and loving, in a no nonsense way that Karen hadn’t been. Karen would have let the boys run all over her. Ellen let them know she was there for them every step of the way but they would listen to her or else. Bobby snorted but it was soft and went unheard. He wasn’t comparing his two wives, simply comparing their different styles of love. He didn’t love one more than the other, he loved each one for who they were or in Karen’t case, who she had been. Bobby had long since realized that Ellen came at a perfect time. He didn’t know what he’d done to win such a lottery but he’d accepted that he was a lucky bastard.

Ellen, who’d been walking out of the kitchen with Ruby in tow, heard Sam’s speech from start to finish. She caught the look on her husband’s face and smiled inwardly. She could practically hear his self deprecating thoughts. As she listened to Sam she made her own vow to show Bobby just how important he was, how different (better!) he made her life just by existing in it, until he believed it. Who knew, maybe old dogs could be taught new tricks? She crossed her arms as she felt Ruby stiffen next to her as they both heard Sam’s sweet words. She covered her smirk discretely with her hand. Good. She hated this woman’s perfume. Good god. Was the whole bottle really necessary?

Cas felt Dean capture his hand and tears welled up in his eyes. Dean was so good to him, he’d long since wanted Gabriel to have someone special to dote on him, to love him, to care for him the way Dean did for him and he’d be lying if he said he never outright prayed for it. He didn’t know if God was real or not. Didn’t know if maybe he didn’t listen to prayers or if he did but in that moment, it felt like he (or she) did. HIs brother had cared for Sam for such a long time now and finally it seemed like Sam was returning those feelings and listening to the emotion behind his words, Cas believed him. He wasn’t a gun advocate like his fiancé was, preferring to solve conflict with words rather than guns but Cas was never going to regret suiting up to go save his older brother and soon to be brother in law. And now he had another brother to envelope in his rapidly growing family. he thought with satisfaction, taking in the people that made up his Thanksgiving. He glanced at said brother now, noting the soft look on his face. He didn’t know what life had dished up for Balthazar but he hoped he got the opportunity to find out.

Balthazar downed his whiskey and almost reached around for more when he stopped. He’d told his therapist he’d try to stop trying to drink away his feelings and he wanted to keep his word. He knew the road to healing was going to be long and hard and there were many explanations that needed to be said but he was going to take it one day at a time and when that became too much he’d take it one moment at a time. He breathed in deeply as he took in the scene in front of him. Old Frank hadn’t told him just how close exactly Sam and his older brother had gotten but Balthazar had quickly gotten the gist of it when he’d seen Sam carrying his brother. He looked at Cas, holding Dean’s hand and Sam still crouched down in front of Gabriel and unprecedented tears stung his eyes. He blinked furiously. He was not going to cry. That was most definitely not in his repertoire. He had a bloody reputation, blast it! He couldn’t lie to himself though, there was something that made him yearn for what his brothers had. Not just their significant others but their closeness to each other. He wondered if coming here, back to the States, he’d find what had been missing all these years. Had he been wrong in leaving?

Gabriel didn’t know how to respond. Kali had really done a number on his heart. He’d vowed to love her forever and she had done the same in return. Loving someone was not something Gabriel took lightly. Loving someone took effort and commitment to be there, to support, to encourage, to share in their triumphs and hold them in their loses. Loving someone meant giving up everyone else and what they could possibly offer. Loving someone meant having to sometimes put them in front of yourself…at least that’s what Gabriel thought but here was his Samshine, his very own ray of sunshine, telling him that he was wrong. That he didn’t want to walk ahead of Gabriel, he wanted to walk next to him. He didn’t want one of them to love the other more than the other, he wanted them to love each other equally and that was something Gabriel was not prepared for. It was more than Gabriel ever expected. More than he would ever dare hope for, Sam or otherwise. He didn’t know if he didn’t expect to be loved in that capacity because of his shitty childhood and although it was hard to believe, it really sounded like Sam was saying that he was important in the relationship too. Kali hadn’t been like that. She walked ahead and he followed. Followed her wherever because he loved her. He was surprised to realize in that moment that he loved Sam more than he had ever loved Kali. He could feel one specific wall cracking in the recesses of his heart. He was making a bigger leap than he ever had, he was doing exactly what he’d told Sam he didn’t do. He was trusting. He was choosing to believe.

With some difficulty he leaned forward and stopped. Had it been anyone else he would have made himself uncomfortable in an effort to kiss them but Sam had said he was as in as Gabriel and Gabriel believed him. Sure enough, Sam leaned in the rest of the way and placed a kiss on Gabriel’s lips.

“Does that mean you believe me Gabriel?” Sam asked softly.

Gabriel gave Sam another kiss, hands reaching Sam’s face and running his fingers through the hair that hung over his ears.

“I do.”

The whole room startled when Ruby spoke up. “What the ever loving fuck?” Sam paid her no mind, choosing to keep his attention on Gabriel, who flinched and looked down. Sam understood Gabriel more then than he ever had. No one had loved Gabriel unconditionally. That was not ok but at the same time, Sam knew that when Gabriel’s walls all came down what was going to emerge was going to be someone who loved Sam more than anyone else ever had and Sam couldn’t wait to relish in that love. “To have and to hold.” He thought to himself.

Milo, along with the rest of the room, glared at Ruby. He knew Gabriel was special, he could tell in the way the man always had a sunny smile, a joke to throw out, a smirk, a waggle of eyebrows but he also knew he’d never captured nor would he ever capture Gabriel’s heart the way Sam had. After all he’d not even known his real name. Gabriel. It suited him. Loki did too but Gabriel. Loki fit one aspect of him but Gabriel captured him completely. After realizing all this Milo was in no way, shape or form going to do anything to rupture that amount of love. He was about to speak up to the woman, suggest that they both leave (although definitely not together) when the doorbell rang and he caught sight of Detective Turner going to open the door.

A few seconds later he was back with two police officers. Milo watched with interest as he pointed in Ruby’s direction. “That’s Ruby, officers.”

“What is going on here?” Ruby demanded, trying, unsuccessfully to back up into the kitchen.

“Ma’am. You’re a person of interest in the case against Lucifer Milton. We ask the you come down to the station with us to answer a few questions.”

“Sam! We work together, I have nothing to do with that. Tell them!” Ruby shrieked.

Sam stood and a smirk graced his face. “I think you have more to do with it than you let on. Maybe next time you won’t go through such ruse just to rifle through my office.”

Ruby scowled. “You know nothing.”

Sam nodded. “Yes, that’s precisely why you’re being taken down to the station. Good bye, Ruby.”

Ruby looked around but seeing the look on everyone else’s face had her grabbing her purse angrily and walking out the door with the officers in tow. “I want my call immediately. I want my lawyer.”

For a beat everyone stared at each other before Milo cleared his throat. “Loki. I’m going to head out. I do not wish to interrupt your holiday. Sam…it sounds like you understand this but from an outsiders point of view…Lo is precious. Please take good care of him.”

Sam nodded graciously. In a way he owed Milo. If it hadn’t been for him, he never would have gotten a taste of Gabriel’s lips.

Balthazar clapped a hand over Milo’s back. “Come on mate. I’ll walk you out.”

Sam heard the closet door open and close and then, “So you’re from Italy? I’m from England.”

Sam turned and raised a brow at Gabriel. Oh, please God, no.

It seemed like everyone else was thinking the same. Sam turned to find a look of horror on Dean’s face.
Then the whole room erupted in laughter because that would just be their luck and their Thanksgiving continued, each person truly grateful for what they had.

Chapter Text

The next morning Sam woke up with an armful of a warm body that he immediately recognized as his Gabriel. His heart felt so full, bursting with love and pride of the person Gabriel was. The previous night they’d fallen asleep after kissing each other senseless. Sam was grateful that the break in Gabriel’s leg hadn’t been too damaging. The cast would be off in six weeks, just in time for their trip to Vegas. The previous night they’d huddled together over Sam’s laptop and booked their flights for the second week of January. Sam hadn’t requested the time off yet but he felt sure he’d be able to plus January was a slow week at the office. Seemed even criminals took time off for the holidays. Sure there was some petty theft from miscreants taking off with people’s Amazon packages during Christmas and such but it seemed that the higher crime echelons took some time to just chill. That worked in Sam’s favor in this instance so he wasn’t complaining.

He was looking forward to being with Gabriel and they excitedly booked a joint hotel room, Sam blushing the whole time while Gabriel sweetly leered at him, a feat that Sam hadn’t considered possible until he saw it on Gabriel’s face. Oh yeah, Gabriel wanted to do naughty things with him, it was written all over his face but so was the promise that it would all be done with love.

Only the fact that they were in the family room of his dad’s AND everyone was still there kept Sam from getting hard, well fully hard anyway, he still got a chubby. He did the best he could to keep up with Gabriel, licking his lips and winking slowly and deliberately at him. He massively enjoyed the slight flush that entered Gabriel’s face and if his hard on got a little harder, well, it was worth it.

Sam loved the MCM the last time he and Dean had gone to Vegas but Gabriel promised him the Bellagio was nicer, room wise, so that’s where they were staying for a full five nights. Gabriel told him that as soon as Monday rolled around he’d be calling his contacts to make the appointments necessary so that he and Sam could take care of as many arrangements as possible due to Sam’s job constrictions and inability to just take off as Gabriel could.

Sam had enjoyed his time with Gabriel. He’d confessed that he’d looked him up, half expecting for Gabriel to be upset with him, he’d understand if he did, he had broken a lot of his privacy after all. To his surprise Gabriel had been delighted that he cared enough to check up on him. After that, Sam had asked how his other stores were doing and where they were and Gabriel let him know that there were three in Kansas, two in Texas, three in South Dakota, a couple in California and barring one that was in Canada, the rest were in New York. Once again Sam had been in awe of Gabriel. He was everything Sam never knew he wanted. Well read, studied, travelled, was highly gifted in many different aspects. Sam knew, however, that those particular things he could have found in others, what set Gabriel aside was that he was all those things but he was also goofy, funny, told lame jokes, usually at the expense of Sam’s heterosexuality or lack thereof, he was extremely dedicated to Castiel, and most importantly loved Sam so visibly much that made Sam want to love him and bestow that same amount of love, if not more, back at him.

It was close to four am by the time they made it back to Gabriel’s apartment and Sam got him settled in. It was quite the task to get him into pj’s, teeth brushed and in bed and Sam was dead on his feet by the time he got himself into bed but he still curled up around Gabriel and took a moment to say a final thanks for whomever was listening for him. He was the best thing in Sam’s life and Sam was in utter peace and contentment for quite possibly the first time in his life.

As he was falling asleep he tried to find a memory of when he’d been more happy. He fell asleep without having thought of a single one.

_______________

It had been a long time since Frank ran his own surveillance. He had underlings for that and he spent all of his time going over cases, reviewing them with those under his tutelage, finding things they’d missed or instructing them how to proceed based on his gut. Others in his profession laughed at how he conducted his business, citing far too much reliance and trust in his gut but in his thirty years in the business, it had yet to fail him so really the joke was on them.

He’d almost not taken this particular job when it came across his computer. It was an email sent by one “naughty angel”, who was later revealed to be Balthazar Novak and then later revealed to be Balthazar Milton (Frank was nothing if not thorough. He wasn’t paranoid, he was merely…highly suspicious of the world around him. At least that was his story and he was sticking to it, never mind those around him that made fun of him both to his face and behind his back).

When Frank first received the email he’d given it a cursory glance, intent on giving it to one of his PI’s when a specific name had stopped him cold. He’d seen the name come on the news before and he always made sure to remember particularly bad cases just in case. What puzzled him was where the request to watch over one Lucifer Milton was coming from. England. That alone had been the reason Frank had done so much background work on the person requesting his services. He was able to uncover that Balthazar Milton was a very wealthy person who was also half brother to Lucifer Milton. He was offering very handsome payment for Frank to simply follow him, document his actions, keep proof and hold on to it until the day came that he requested it.

Frank had acquiesced and had kept tabs on Lucifer Milton for days on end two 24/7 week terms with check-ins the rest of the time of the month. He’d been doing it for years now and boy did he have proof. He had a lot on Lucifer Milton and associates. What he didn’t currently have was the reason behind one of Lucifer Milton’s henchmen casing Gabriel Milton’s house, going around and around the block until Frank had to wonder if the driver wasn’t making himself dizzy. All of Frank’s senses were tingling, his gut telling him many a thing, mainly to get the fuck out of there and Frank listened. Once the dark window tinted, black SUV (as they all were, seriously the bad guys needed to get some new material) turned the corner once again, Frank quickly started his own sedate nondescript sedan and turning to eye the house once more, hoping the inhabitants were still alive come morning, turned the opposite corner and headed home.

As the SUV came around the corner again, the driver pulled the ski mask back off his face. His target was gone, much to his boss’s dismay and he had to sit there and get chewed out for ten minutes before being abruptly hung up on. He sent a prayer upward praying that he’d been forgiven and wasn’t about to get sent to walk the metaphorical plank. This was his second strike. Rarely did his boss keep the person around after three strikes, regardless of how much time had passed between them.

For his part, Frank never knew how accurate his gut was.

_________________

Gabriel sighed in relief as Lucifer left. He’d been stunned when he’d woken up to a rough shove, disoriented but at once alert, knowing that Sam wouldn’t have been the one to do that. If he could have scampered back at seeing his brother’s face hovering over his own, he would have. As it stood, he’d had to just lie there and try to calm his racing heart as he as nonchalantly as possible stuck a pillow, Sam’s pillow, behind his head and cocked a brow at his brother whom he hadn’t seen in years. A quick glance around told him Sam wasn’t there and the water running in the bathroom freaked him out a little but he tried to hide it so he could concentrate. He wanted his brother gone as quickly as possible. Preferably before Sam walked out. If that didn’t happen, he was so screwed.

As Lucifer spoke to him, Gabriel barely heard him, having gotten the gist of his unwelcome, unsolicited visit within the first five second of his brother opening his mouth. Instead he studied his brother’s face. It looked like life had been rough on him but Gabriel didn’t feel sorry for him. He hadn’t needed to have it rough, it had been a choice. Everything his brother had done had been a choice and Gabriel would be damned if he continued to make up excuses for it. Hard lines furrowed his brother’s forehead and the creases between his eyebrows ran deep, indicative that Lucifer spent a lot of time frowning. Laugh lines were non existent and Gabriel did feel a pang at that. Once upon a time his brother had been jocund and jovial. Loving and protective. Where had that gone?

He looked down at his brother’s mouth, set into an unbecoming sneer and he couldn’t believe how much his brother had fallen. This was the brother he’d once loved over all others, including Cassie? The brother he’d once defended? The brother he’d once believed in? The brother he switched careers for? How could he have been so wrong? So blind to what was in front of him? He thought he had good instincts but apparently when it came to his own family those instincts stayed well hidden. Smart instincts. If Gabriel could, he’d join them.

Unfortunately Gabriel had already ran once, multiple times really, but once when it was life changing. Point was, Gabriel was not running anymore. He might have if it was still just him and Cassie but it wasn’t. Not anymore. Cassie had Dean and Gabriel had (finally!) Sam and he’d be damned if he was giving that up. Even then, it was more than that. Overnight it seemed, Gabriel’s family had grown. Sure, he’d spent holidays with the Winchesters before but he’d never felt as part of a family as he had the previous night and he wasn’t willing to give that up any time soon. He pondered briefly if this was selfish, if he wasn’t putting them in danger by hanging around and he considered leaving alone but ultimately he knew that wouldn’t stop Luci. No, what he had to do was take a look at what Balthy had and help Sam as much as he could even though now he’d been effectively sidelined.

A tear escaped his cheek as Sam came out of the restroom, feeling his heart break when he saw the smile Sam bestowed on him.

“You ready for some breakfast? I can’t cook like you, of course, but um, I can make eggs.” Sam said, shyly.

“Wait, are you crying? Gabe, what’s wrong?”

Gabriel wiped away the tear and the ones rapidly collecting behind that one. He had to pull this off. Had to keep Sammy safe. Maybe some day Sam would forgive him, as unlikely as it was.

Gabriel looked down at the blankets Sam had so lovingly tucked up around him, took a deep breath and when he looked up again, he was Loki, smirk firmly in place.

“Well, Sammy ma boy,” he drawled, raising his arms to place them behind his head, “as much fun as this has been, I think it’s time for me to come clean. Wouldn’t want to break your heart anymore than I have to, although in hindsight maybe I should have waited until I got to fuck you. Eh, I still got a blowjob out of it. Not the best but it was alright. Who knew I’d could have you begging so prettily while you sucked MY dick? Sam, I’m Straight Gabriel, Winchester sucked my dick. Ha!”

Gabriel’s blood ran cold even as he spewed all his scathing vitriol at Sam. He tried to keep his tone as disparaging as possible but it still trembled here and there. He only hoped Sam hadn’t heard it otherwise they were all fucked.

It broke Gabriel’s heart when he realized that Sam had stopped cold and worse than anything in the world seemed to believe the words Gabriel was throwing at him. It broke Gabriel’s heart that everyone believed the worst in him but never the good. No one ever stopped and said, “No, Gabriel isn’t like that. If he’s saying that something is seriously wrong.” No. They accepted whatever he threw at them at face value. It broke Gabriel’s heart that he was easily discarded. It had been that way since he was young, his dad just ignored him at every turn, paying attention only to Lucifer, his favorite. While that stung, Gabriel had tamped down that hurt and took pleasure in knowing that at least Lucifer loved him. He always chose Gabriel to play pranks on the other, taught him all his tricks, took care of him when others tried to pick on him because of his size. Maybe that’s where he should have gotten his first clue that something was wrong with Luci. When some boys threatened Gabriel, Lucifer had taken it upon himself to punish them rather severely. Gabriel had basked in the love that he felt the action had been taken in. Now the thought was laughable. Jesus he’d been an idiot. His brother didn’t love him. He just liked causing pain.

Forcing himself back to the present he pushed past those feelings and forced himself to laugh at Sam’s gobsmacked look.

“What, Sam? Please tell me you didn’t actually fall for all that shit. I just wanted to see how long it would take me to have you ass up in the air, begging for me to hit it. Surely you didn’t think I’d bottom. Hell no, I was going to see how long it took me to be balls deep in you and have you screaming my name. Luckily for you, I’ve seen reason and remembered I couldn’t completely destroy you as we do have a wedding to plan. So, I’m taking my blow job and reveling in the fact that I had those pretty little lips wrapped around my cock, sucking me down, swallowing everything I had. Did you like it Sammy? Can you believe you were on your way to becoming my little cock-slut?”

When Sam stood there, staring at him, Gabriel watched as a myriad of emotions flit over his face. Gabriel’s face tilted when Sam’s eyes scanned the room before coming to land back on Gabriel, eyes calculating and cold.

“No worries Gabriel. It was a pity blowjob. I felt bad for you. After all, it must suck to have a brother who doesn’t give a shit about you and would actually pull the trigger. In cold blood. I mean, I wouldn’t know because my brother actually loves me, but I imagine it must blow.”

Gabriel flinched at his words. Felt tears threatening to bubble up again as he heard the truth behind the words. His brother was truly the worst and Sam was right, he would kill him without a second thought. Why was he playing his game again? Oh, right, to keep the rest of his family safe. Well, at least until he could get word out and have his own information on Lucifer released. As he’d told Sam, he’d lose his license but at this point he didn’t care. Lucifer was counting on him caring more about his lawyer status than Sam. Lucifer was exponentially incorrect.

“Anyways, I’m getting my shit and I’ll get out of your hair. And Gabriel?”

Gabriel looked up at him meekly, all thoughts of the character he was supposed to be playing gone completely from his mind.

“I will be having you brought in for a statement.”

Gabriel’s breathe caught at that. That would be the perfect moment to deliver what he had without risking anyone’s safety.

“When?” He asked, more sharply than he intended, but dammit, he needed to know how soon he needed to have the information.

He felt Sam’s hesitation and wondered if Sam knew what was happening here. He peered at him through his lashes but Sam’s eyes remained cold and Gabriel knew he’d been wrong. Of course Sam hadn’t believed his declaration of love more than the bullshit he’d thrown at him. Nevermind that Gabriel had been unabashedly after him for years.

“A week.” Sam said firmly.

Gabriel nodded although it was mostly to himself. He could work with a week.

He watched, mute, as Sam ran a hand through his hair, looked at Gabriel with the same disinterest that Gabriel had worked so hard to get away from, and then turned away from him, silently putting his stuff together in his duffel bag. Sam had still been in his pj’s when he’d stepped out of the restroom and now Gabriel watched, his mouth quickly drying up as Sam discarded his clothes without a care of his audience and stepped into a pair of jeans so tight they left absolutely nothing to the imagination. An easy feat considering Sam wasn’t wearing any goddamn underwear. Gabriel tried to swallow but couldn’t. He didn’t have any saliva in his mouth.

Sam left his top button undone as he lifted his arms and stretched up high in front of Gabriel, showing off perfectly chiseled abs and a set of pecs so fucking perfect Gabriel almost cried. Sam turned away from him and bent down purposely to rifle through his duffel, probably looking for a shirt, Gabriel distantly thought, before pulling out a white one with a deep circle neck and turning back to face Gabriel slowly brought it up over his head and down his chest, muscles bulging and rippling at Sam’s sensual moves. Gabriel could feel himself getting hard.

The tee shirt stopped right above the top button of his jeans, showing a sliver of skin and Gabriel’s eyes roamed over his chest, when the neckline was almost too low for a straight guy, the necklace was there and fuck if Sam didn’t look hot. His eyes went back up to follow Sam’s hand going back up to his hair, running his hand through it, before grabbing the beanie Gabriel had given him and placing it on his head. He buttoned his pants finally and put on some grey shoes. Gabriel had known Sam for two years and never had he dressed like this before. It used to be relaxed or straight jeans and tee shirts, now it was all skinny jeans, loafers, and skin tight v necks. Was he really doing all this for him? Gabriel felt another pang of loathing towards Lucifer. If he seriously lost all this, he would never forgive his brother.

Finally Sam was done and as he walked by Gabriel he winked at him, nary a care in the world, like he and Gabriel had just had a nice one night stand, leaned down and Gabriel almost flinched thinking Sam was probably about to punch him when Sam got in real close, grabbed Gabriel’s earlobe between his teeth, gently pulled and then so quietly Gabriel almost didn’t hear whispered, “mine” before straightening and walking out the door.

As soon as Sam closed the door Gabriel was crying, loud sobs tearing through his chest, big hot tears streaming down his face. Gabriel knew the listening device his brother had left would pick them up and his brother would believe that it was because of Sam leaving him but he’d never know it was the complete opposite. Gabriel was crying tears of joy. Sam hadn’t believed him. Sam knew something was wrong. Emotion bubbled up in Gabriel and he knew that once he got Sam back he’d spend the rest of his life showing him just how grateful he was of that. Gabriel had finally found the one. The one he could trust, the one he could be himself with, the one that trusted in him, the one who knew him.

Chapter Text

Sam closed the door behind him and let his duffle fall to the floor before sinking down himself. He tucked his long legs up to his chin and placed his arms around them. He could hear Gabriel crying and wanted nothing more than to go back in there and comfort him, wrap him up in a hug and never let go but he couldn’t. Sam was smart. Stanford smart and there was no way that Gabriel had done all this just to see Sam “ass up”, well, maybe, (it was Gabriel, after all) but not in the coarse way he’d put it. That meant that something else had happened and Sam had to believe that Gabriel was doing this to protect him. Because sacrificing what he wanted for the sake of someone else was something Gabriel would do. THAT Sam easily believed.

He’d been stunned of course when he heard the first sentence Gabriel spoke but the shock had worn away quickly when he caught on to the slight tremor in Gabriel’s voice, the tension behind his eyes and the fact that he’d been crying when Sam first stepped out of the restroom. All of this “evidence” pointed to something having happened in the time Sam had been in the restroom. A quick scan around the room had revealed that they were alone but the crudeness with which Gabriel spoke gave Sam the idea that either Gabriel really had been fucking with him this whole time or someone else was listening to make sure he did it. Maybe Sam was being naive and if he found out he was he’d eat his big toe, but he didn’t think so. Gabriel wasn’t fucking with him. Gabriel loved him.

There had been something on Gabriel’s face. An emotion. When hard pressed to name it, Sam would have to say he looked resigned. Like he knew what he was saying was going to be the catalyst for Sam leaving. Sam pressed his hands into his arms and snorted. As if. He wasn’t fucking going anywhere. Gabriel belonged with him and he belonged with Gabriel and barring death there was not a goddamn thing this world could throw out that would separate them.

That was the thing about Sam, sometimes it took him a long time to come to a conclusion, just as it had with Gabriel, but once he was in he stood by his decisions steadfastly, to the point of being obstinate really. Dean had once told him that was the best and worst part about him.

Thinking about Dean and Cas’s easy relationship made him sad for a moment. Sure, there had been some trouble in the beginning, mostly because Dean didn’t have a come to Jesus moment about the true nature of his feelings towards Cas until it was almost too late but since then they’d been attached at the hip and it had been smooth sailing ever since. Sam grinned as he remembered Cas purposely parading three different men in front of Dean (at Gabriel’s behest, naturally) before Dean realized those fits of rage he felt every time he saw them with HIS “angel” were indubitably jealousy. After that, Dean had done what he did best. Hiked up his pants, sauntered over to Cas, pushed his aviators down his nose, looking over them at Cas, and asked him, “Once you’re done with all these losers, how about you go out with me? I promise to show you a good time, angel.”

Sam had been present. He’d mentally cheered, clapped and hollered all while a huge wave emotion, (the biggest feeling in it being FINALLY) enveloped him. They’d been at the bakery when it happened. Gabriel had been around, wearing his signature black although that tee shirt had a rainbow printed across the front. He was wearing it with black chucks and cheesy gold set of moose antlers on his head. When Sam had entered the store , he’d said “Reindeer already, Gabriel? Seriously? It’s only November.” He’d said it with derision, the only way he addressed Gabriel back then. Gabriel had taken it in stride the way he always did, had smiled sunnily up at Sam and said, “of course not, Samoose. They are Moose antlers. They reminded me of you.”

Sam had rolled his eyes and walked to where he had spotted Dean. After Dean had pushed his chair and done his little performance, Sam had locked eyes with Gabriel and smiled at him accidentally, his happiness for his brother bleeding out. Thinking about it now made Sam realize that was the first time he’d smiled at Gabriel. He wondered if Gabriel remembered.

Inside the room, Gabriel’s sobs subsided and Sam finally stood up, grabbed his bag and walked out. He missed Gabriel already.

He drove to Dean and Cas’s a little sad because they were supposed to spend the day together and do some Black Friday shopping. It wasn’t one of Sam’s favorite past times but he got a kick out of helping out the economy’s bottom line. Even though crowds weren’t his favorite, it made him happy to see so many people out there, spending money, boosting store’s numbers. The only gift he’d gotten so far was still just Gabriel’s and he wanted to buy more, wanted to buy Gabriel the fucking moon. He knew spending money wasn’t an indicator of love but Sam couldn’t help it, he just wanted to shower Gabriel with gifts. He could imagine Gabriel’s look of delight as he opened them and…

Wait. A familiar sight snapped Sam out of his thoughts and he adjusted the rearview mirror to see more clearly and yup, that was the same goddamn truck. Sam blew out an irritated breathe. He was sick to death of these fucking people just thinking they could come scare him. Sam came up with a plan of action immediately and saying a quick apology to his car, Sam brought up the camera app on his phone and got it ready. He was going to brake hard and there was no way with the truck being as close to him as it was that it would have enough time to stop. Sam also knew there was no way in hell that the truck was going to stop after it hit him, it would swerve in front of him and flee and that’s what the camera app was for, so he could snap a pic of the license plate and have them ran. Hopefully then, they could put out an APB on this fucker and have him taken off the goddamn road.

Plan set, Sam brought his hand up, waited until the truck was right on his ass, took a deep breath and then pressed his foot down on the brake as hard as he could. His car did a small fishtail but held steady and then he was pushed forward and he scrambled for purchase to avoid going into the other lane as he was slammed into from the back. He grimaced and held in a scream as he concentrated on switching the camera app to the video one. There was no way he would hold steady enough to take a picture. He’d just brought his hand up and was recording as the truck went around him and sped past when his airbag deployed, shocking the shit out of him, smacking him in the face and making him lose what little control he had over the car. He never saw what happened next but he felt it. His head fell to the left, slamming hard against the windshield and then it was lights out.

____________

Dean could hear his phone ringing from where he’d left it on the tool cart when he’d been pulling out some wrenches he’d need. He had been looking over Baby, making sure all was well when it rang and he rolled the creeper he was on out from underneath the car to answer it.

“Yeah?” His voice gruff because dammit he hated when people disrupted his time with Baby.

“Is this Dean?”

“Who’s asking?”

“My name is Ali, I’m an EMT.”

“This is Dean.” He was getting a bad feeling about this.

“Sir. You’re, uh, Sam Winchester’s “ICE” number, you know, in case of emergency. He’s been in an accident and we’re currently loading him up onto the ambulance and taking him to the county hospital.”

Dean’s blood ran cold. There was no way this was an accident and Dean’s blood quickly boiled over in anger. “I’ll be there.” He said curtly before hanging up and quickly calling Cas whom he’d left sleeping in.

“Angel?”

“Yes, Dean?” Came Cas’s voice, still thick from sleep. Dean’s brain short circuited for just a split second. He loved Cas so much. From his perpetual messy bed hair that Dean was besotted with running his fingers through, making it even more messy; his blue eyes that looked straight into his soul, and Dean would always stare back, even if he couldn’t see souls, he just liked the way the world seemed to fall away when he did, Cas captured his attention so fully. He was infatuated with the the way Cas’s head tilted in the most adorable (and he did not use that word lightly) way when he didn’t understand something.

It had been two years and still Dean’s heart would swell with adoration when he heard Cas say, “I don’t understand that reference.” That tickled Dean’s funny bone. For someone who read so much, there was a lot he didn’t understand. But Dean didn’t mind. Dean liked being the one who got to introduce Cas to all the worlds he knew although they were admittedly less scholarly than Cas was accustomed to. They had Star Wars and Indiana Jones marathons along with documentaries on bees and theology. He read Vonnegut, Cas read non-fiction about the most random things, like product experimentation and how it affected animals. It made him smile as he remembered him and Cas getting ready for bed and Cas complaining about monkeys being so clever and was it really necessary to test cosmetic products on them? “I mean, how important is lipstick to you, Dean?” Dean had pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh, as he’d responded, “Not very.” Before sliding into the bed and pulling his angel close.

Dean knew Cas could do so much better than him and he thanked his lucky stars that Cas didn’t seem to mind all the scintillating conversation he was missing had he been with someone else. Since meeting Cas, Dean had taken to reading more too, although he did it from his phone app, there was no way he was going to open himself up for teasing from both his brother and Gabriel. He loved the guys, both of them, but they could be merciless little dicks.

Speaking of, he needed to call Gabriel.

“Dean?”

Oh. Right.

“Will you pull some clothes on, baby? I just got a call. Sam’s in the hospital. He was in a bad accident.” His heart rate started accelerating as he heard the words tumbling out of his mouth.

“Breath, Dean. I’ll be right there.” Dean could already hear drawers opening and closing and knew Cas would be by his side in less than minutes. Shakily, he ended the call and called Gabriel.

“Hello?” He heard a sniffle.

“Did they already call you?”

“Who?”

“The, um, ambulance people.”

“Paramedics? Why would they be calling me, Dean? Where’s Sam?”

“Then why- fuck it, Sam’s been in an accident. A bad one apparently. Ambulance is taking him to county.”

“I can’t go, Dean. My leg is busted up, remember? I don’t want to delay you, just go on ahead and keep me posted.”

Dean was about to argue but something in Gabriel’s voice held him back. Something had happened. Something he didn’t have time to get into at the moment but from Gabriel’s voice it was something big. He sighed. What started out as a good calm day was rapidly going to hell. He hated hospitals but if he was being honest with himself, he abhorred Gabe and Cas’s brother even more. This was the last straw though. No one hurt his Sammy and got away with it. It was time for Dean to take this into his own hands.

____________

Castiel dressed quickly, mind racing a million miles per hour as he methodically pulled clothes on. He stopped only to take a quick check in the mirror and make sure he matched. A life time ago, BD (before Dean), he wore what Gabriel would routinely call his uniform. It wasn’t that he wasn’t interested in clothes (although he really wasn’t), it was just that his “uniform” made it to where he never had to look in the mirror to make sure everything matched. It was blue slacks, a white button down, blue tie, blue jacket and his tan overcoat. Simple. But then came Dean, in his own uniform but his was much more relaxed than Castiel’s. Jeans, a tee shirt that showed off his biceps and firm chest and usually a plaid shirt over it. It made Castiel want to be something more exciting, like Dean was, and less boring. Less him.

So he’d gone through every phase he possibly could, from wearing skinny jeans and button downs, to wearing baggy jeans and large tee shirts, to wearing different suits until Dean sat him down and told him to stop. That he loved him just as he was and he didn’t want him changing. “Don’t ever change, Cas.” Had been his exact words and Castiel wasn’t able to do much more than stare back at him because how could he be so lucky?

Still, doing all those clothes trials had inspired something in Castiel in which he wasn’t changing, exactly, he was just expanding. He found who he was in straight (not skinny but not relaxed either) jeans and chinos from J. Crew and Banana Republic and he paired them with fitted soft (organic) cotton tees that weren’t restricting. His favorite brand of shoes were TOMS because he liked doing his part for the world. He still wore suits but now they fit him better, now they were Brooks Brothers instead of generic suits he’d worn the hell out of before replacing. Now his blues were mixed with greens because he liked carrying a reminder of Dean with him.

And some days, like that day, he wanted, needed, a stark reminder that he was safely cocooned with Dean. He was a pacifist at heart. He didn’t like or condone violence, or vengeance and retribution for that matter, but today? Today he understood it. He put on his favorite pair of jeans, a dark wash with a tear at the knee that was homemade from him tending to his garden in them so much, Dean’s Led Zeppelin soft tee shirt, slipped a necklace amulet he’d picked up in Jerusalem (he’d been there straight out of uni, ever the theology major) that was of Cassiel, the archangel counterpart to the angel he was named after, over his neck and pulled on the only pair of combat boots he owned, a gift from Dean himself.
Hesitantly, he took a step towards his nightstand, before taking a deep breath and taking another, surer step towards it. No one hurt his family and got away with it. Not even his own brother. Opening the drawer, Cas had to stare at it for only a moment before reaching down to take it. Another gift from Dean. A Winchester that fit snugly in the small of his back, where he put it before going downstairs and meeting up with his Winchester.

___________

Detective Turner and his partner, Detective Bradbury, paced in the hallway outside of ADA Winchester’s room. Although he never got around to telling him, Detective Turner had gotten the approval for the plainclothes cop to “accompany” the ADA everywhere. When the accident occurred, the detective was one of the first to be notified and he’d gotten there as quickly as it had taken him and his partner to drive over.

He ran his hand over his head in frustration. Ruby was still cooling her jets in interrogation but some concerning things had come up on the results of the preliminary report he’d requested of her background. She hadn’t changed her name but rather her appearance rather drastically. She’d started out as a blonde with a sharp nose, blue eyes and a slightly bigger bottom lip. Now she was a black haired beauty with a significantly larger pout, a smaller nose, bigger breasts and she was either wearing contacts now or she had been back then. That wasn’t the only thing that caught his attention. Apparently Ruby had at one point worked at a law firm that Detective Turner instantly recognized as one that he’d seen come up as a former place of employment for Lucifer as well. Former colleagues, perhaps? Was that where it had all began?

Of course, what threw somewhat of a wrench in the good Detective’s theories was that Ruby was currently sitting at his precinct so she was clearly not the one behind the accident. Of course that didn’t rule her out for all foul play, just this one.

“Excuse me, are you Detective Turner?” Someone tapped him on the shoulder and the detective went into defense position and the other man stepped back quickly and put his hands up in a placating manner. Out of the corner of his eye, the detective saw his partner was watching intently, her hand on the butt of her gun, stance wide. He was pleased that she was ready for anything until they figured out whether this guy was friend or foe.

“I am.” He responded, eyeing the man closing. He was a heavy set man, wearing a wrinkled white button down, unflattering grey slacks, beady eyes with glasses covering them, a full head of white and grey hair, and small thin lips.

“And you are?” He asked, casually sticking his hands in his pockets.

“Never mind that. You don’t need to know my name and I’m not giving you a sodding statement so don’t even come looking for one. What you need to know is that I have all the information you need to put Lucifer Milton away. It’s all here, on this flash drive.”

The man reached into his jacket (“Slowly, slowly” Detective Turner insisted) and sure enough he pulled out a small silver flash drive that he promptly turned and threw at Detective Bradbury. She was not ready for it and it fell on the floor. Detective Turner moved to help her pick it up but she beat him to it. They both straightened and Detective Turner turned to admonish the man but he was gone.

______________

Lucifer Milton, known to some of his associates and business partners as Luke Novak, could pinpoint the exact moment he’d realized he was not like the others. He not only did not play well with others but on a more perverse level, a sliver of sheer delight when up his spine every time he conducted an ill timed prank or one that inadvertently resulted with someone ending up hurt. He liked seeing innards. They were so red, so squishy. They were warm and wet and he liked it.

But he digressed. He adjusted his suit jacket as he thought back to the first time.

The earliest memory he had of snuffing the life out of something…he must have been around three or four. He couldn’t remember the exact age, he didn’t remember what he was wearing, what the weather was like, who was there, no, no, what he did remember was that feeling of exhilaration he felt feeling the tiny body crush beneath his hand, the power rush it gave him knowing he was doing it with one hand, the sickeningly sweet feel and sound of pops as the bones bent in ways they weren’t supposed to, the sounds the chick he’d been handed only moments before to “pet” made as it died in his arms. He wouldn’t, couldn’t forget the way the innards spilled out into his hands, spoiling them. He vaguely remembers hearing the sound of someone retch nearby. Oh and he remembers the calculating look on his dad’s face as he eyed him, not making a move towards him, instead leaning back against their Grand Piano, ice clinking in his scotch glass as he swirled it around before taking a sip.

Lucifer lived for two years before he got to experience that same high again. He was around five and he and Mikey had been left with a neighbor and her children. And their new kitten. Lucifer had been lying on the couch when the kitten had come up to him and trying to curl up on his chest and seeing her spine fold like that made Lucifer curious. He picked up the cat and bent the body together as far as it would go. The kitten howled and Mikey and the other child whose name Lucifer no longer remembered came running into the room just in time to hear the final crunch as the cat’s spine finally gave in to the force behind Lucifer’s young hands. The look of horror on their face was what clued Lucifer in. He didn’t understand it. He wanted to revel in his power, they wanted to cry. Why?

His father spanked him that time, for the first time in his life, and Lucifer went to bed without dinner and a red bottom that he found he didn’t mind nearly as much as he suspected he should have.

As young as Lucifer was, however, he understood. He could not do these things in public or with an audience and so at the tender age of 6, Lucifer Milton learned how to kill without making a mess and more importantly how to clean up after himself so as to leave behind no evidence. There were many a dead and dismembered squirrel and other animal grave markers discreetly covering the vast land that his family home had sat on. He’d dug those graves himself using a pattern only he understood. He knew where all the bodies (so to speak, although admittedly there was one dead body there. His first kill.) were.

As soon as he could, Lucifer started purchasing knives, blades and daggers and went so far as requesting supposed “special” ones for the stupid days people insisted on celebrating such as birthdays and Christmas. Aside from his father who he still suspected knew more than he let on, the people that purchased them for him thought he just had a funky obsession and he’d had to sit through many lame ass jokes (“You aren’t going to stab me, are you?” It wasn’t funny the first time and it wasn’t funny fifty fucking times later. Especially when Lucifer did very much so feel like stabbing them. In the neck. So they bled out slowly.) Until he got his first one, however, he’d had to make do with a butter knife he stole from their silverware drawer. Lucifer remembered, with morbid fondness, just how much of a mess that first kill had been due to the dullness of the knife. Good times.

As he grew, he only got better and perfected his skill. He watched documentaries on serial killers, watched what mistakes they’d done to get caught and basically turned into the perfect killer. He had everyone fooled. He went to law school under the pretext of helping people but really it was so that he could keep himself and his empire out of prison after his little brother ran away. What better way to handle the law than to know the ins and outs of it after all? On the rare instance that his lawyer turned out to be an imbecile that didn’t know how to properly defend him, Lucifer would go pro-se and do it himself.

As irritating as that was, Lucifer almost didn’t mind it, after all those were the times he got to kill for pleasure. He’d take his retribution on the lawyers who’d failed him by taking them to task. He’d take his time. He’d sink his bare hands straight into the guts and relish his hands and his skin colored by the warm red and sometimes still pulsing blood, the soft and squishy insides to the to men (and in one particularly interesting occasion, a woman). Yes, if Lucifer every got another profession it would be that of a doctor. Perhaps a surgeon, after all he had more knowledge of how to properly cut up a body to both inflict the most damage but make the least mess. It was all about paying attention to the fatty parts and going around the veins.

Then again, he didn’t particularly care about saving lives, no, Lucifer Milton just wanted to take them. Big difference.

He was brought back to the present by the elevator that led to his penthouse dinging, signaling the arrival of someone. He turned to find his brother, Raphael, there. Lucifer almost killed Raphael once, ok maybe a few times, when they were younger. Ultimately Raphael had proven to be worth alive than dead and Lucifer had kept him. Lately however, Lucifer wondered if Raph had outgrown his use. He seemed to just follow Lucifer around, doing it every bidding, no longer coming up with his own ideas. It was akin to a lovesick puppy. Lucifer abhorred puppies, alive anyway. He did enjoy killing them. Fleetingly he recalled his euphoria at the last dog he’d killed, folding his paws backwards one by one as he forced the dog to stay in place while he fucked with it, chopping of its tail piece by piece as it intrigued him when it had wagged it in his presence. He’d also particularly enjoyed biting down on the dogs ears until the tip he’d bit into came off in his mouth. Tasted like absolute shit. Nasty flea bag.

As for the lovesick part? Hmm, that was one Lucifer didn’t know about. He was many things, incestuous was not one of them. But hey, he could throw the old dog a bone…maybe he’d fuck him whilst he killed him. An ass was an ass was an ass after all. Face down, it would be like any of the other people that he fucked. Not that he did it all that often. His pleasure came from other things but from time to time he found people, men and women alike that didn’t mind his extreme (and preferred) type of BDSM. In a way, it wasn’t the BDSM that he’d first looked into many many years ago. It was more like they let him do what he wanted, sans safe word, and he promised not to take it so far he killed them. He had done pretty good. He’d even managed to keep most of those promises. Some of them had been accidents, instances where he took things a bit too far but a couple of others, no, they’d enraged him when they tried to back out or tell him that they had already reached their limit when he was just getting started.

He promised himself to think more on it (Raphael) later when he realized he felt a familiar tingle in his belly, indicating there was some merit to the idea, something about it appealed to Lucifer and whatever Lucifer wanted Lucifer got. He eyed his brother as he walked in, covering the leer on his face with a scotch glass as he raked his eyes up and down his brother. Eh. He wasn’t bad looking of course, he was a Milton after all. All of them were exceptionally good looking, hell even those other little bastards, the Novaks were good looking. That was why, after discovering that Gabriel and Castiel had changed their last name to Novak, Lucifer started using it as well.

His brother thought him clever and there was no doubt that he was but in this particular instance, well, it had been a stroke of luck really. Being the smart businessman that Lucifer was, he foresaw his good luck running out eventually and whilst thinking over how to prolong the inevitable, a file on his brothers had been dropped on his desk. Lucifer had smiled when he saw Gabriel Novak and took the same cue. It was kismet after all. The name change was just enough that Lucifer was able to continue on undetected on his many unquestionably objectionable ventures. In short, it had worked like a fucking charm.

Yes, Lucifer Milton was prepared for any outside force that came to threaten him and his empire. What he was woefully unprepared for was for the hit to come from his own brothers. The problem with that was that there Lucifer had no mask. They knew him for who he was, they could not be tricked or persuaded by his smooth words. Nor could they be bought off with money as they each had their own. They knew what he was capable of and they took him on efficaciously, with the advantage (or disadvantage if Balthazar’s words were to be believed and really his brother was British? British? Of all the bloody insults) of having grown up with him, hitting him in the exact places that would most effectively bring him down with zero sympathy. Except, of course, for that chump Raphael.

But of course, “Luci” as Raph and only Raph called him (although being called that by Gabriel had certainly been a punch to the gut), wasn’t there yet. No, right now he thought he was still safe, listening to Raph blather on about some detectives who were getting too close (they’d been getting “too close” for Raphy’s comfort their whole fucking lives, what else was new really? Honestly, Raphael was such a fucking drama queen sometimes. It made Lucifer want to take the glass he was presently holding and smash it against his brother’s head. Maybe that would shut him up.) and the blasted P.I. that had gotten away the other night.

Finally Raphael paused in his tirade. “So. Let me see if I’ve got this straight. You came here to tell me that cops are after us, again, and that none of you idiots have found the one witness we have that needs to be taken out before he opens his fucking mouth? Is that right?”

Raphael shifted in his navy skinny slacks. It was part of a three piece ensemble that he’d paired with a brighter blue shirt. Surprisingly he wore no tie. Lucifer nodded to himself. Sure, if his brother wanted to be fucked by him he could do it. Before he eviscerated him but after he exsanguinated him, well at least a little bit, he so did love to play with bloody bits after all. He smiled around his glass. He really was the devil.

Watching his brother give him a hesitant short nod in acquiescence and then look away, the look of fear in his eyes as he wondered what Lucifer might do to him for not having delivered correctly got Lucifer going. He took a couple of steps forward and then was in front of Raphael. He lifted one arm and placed it around his brother’s neck, cupping it slowly, finger by finger, the way one would a scared kitten, enjoying the goosebumps that rose across his brother’s skin in his fingers’ wake, before pressing in just a little bit closer. Raphael looked up at him and Lucifer saw his pupils dilate. Oh yes, this was going to be fun.

______________

When Sam woke up, the first thing he became aware of was the intense throbbing on the left side of his head. The throbbing was so that he didn’t even attempt to open his eyes, instinctively knowing that if he did, if the light invaded his eyes, it would be so much worse. Instead he lifted his arm and reached up to feel it out.

“Sam? You’re awake.”

It was Cas.

“Dean will be here momentarily. He’s talking to the doctor outside. As a matter of fact, let me go get them both. The doctor will undoubtedly want to check you out.”

Sam still didn’t speak. He had a feeling it was going to hurt when he tried it. Instead he rested his head back against the pillows and dropped his hand. The doctor could come in, do his doctor thing and Sam was just going to rest his eyes and use the time to think. At least that was his plan.

Until there were two fingers prying his goddamn fucking eyelid open and pointing a bright ass light right into it. “What the flying fuck?!” He screeched. Ok, so his voice worked just fine. Who knew?

The doctor had the audacity to laugh, his warm coffee scented breath washing over Sam, making him lugubrious, enough that when he glanced at Dean (after the doctor removed the blasted sun from his goddamn face) he saw his brother looking back at him with a worried look on his face. Sam tried to smile at him but the way Dean’s eyes widened and looked even more concerned let Sam know he hadn’t succeeded. At all.

“How much do you remember of what happened?” The doctor asked, gingerly sitting on the bed with Sam.

“Ummm…” Sam said, racking his brain for the last memory he had. “Oh! My phone! Where is my phone?!”

“Didn’t make it out alive buddy. I saw that thing. Completely smashed.” Dean provided helpfully (or unhelpfully as it were).

Sam bit his lip in contemplation. He didn’t technically need the phone, everything was backed up these days. He just needed a computer and hope to God or whatever deity was out there that he remembered the user id and the password.

“Mr. Winchester?” The doctor asked, making Sam look at him again. “Oh, right. Sorry. Um, I was in an accident, the airbag went off, I hit my head and I hit something else. Hopefully not a person. Then I woke up here.”

“Very good. I can’t confirm that, of course, as I wasn’t there but I’m sure witnesses will corroborate with that. Can you tell me your first and last name, DOB and last four of your social?”

Sam rattled off his information as the doctor nodded at each point. He chanced a glance at his brother again and he looked somewhat appeased at Sam’s noggin clearly being intact.

The doctor talked to them for a few more minutes before leaving them be. Dean and Sam stared at each other.

“You know this can’t go on for much longer right?” It was Dean’s “dad” voice. Sure to outsiders Sam rattled off Bobby’s and Ellen’s names as his parents’ but in their family it was known that it was Dean who was the real parent to Sam. His word was law. No matter Sam’s age when he heard the voice he knew he was in for it.
He looked down sheepishly before trying to defend himself. “It’s my job, Dean. You know most cases aren’t like this.”

Dean stared at him for a long time before giving a single nod. Sam sighed in relief but then Dean stepped forward and pointed his finger out, speaking lowly. “You know that now that you’re in his sights, this bastard will stop at nothing. And Sammy? I don’t give a single fuck about the law or what your job is, if you don’t get him, if it doesn’t stick, if the jury declares him not guilty, I’m going to get rid of him myself.”

Sam heard his brother, heard the intent and swallowed thickly, knowing exactly what his brother was saying. These were the types of things that made him realize just how different he and Dean were. He was the ADA and his brother was telling him he was going to murder, literally murder a man. What was he supposed to do with that? Tell on him? Premeditated murder? If he said nothing he was an accessory. Was he supposed to keep that hidden for the rest of his life? How could he continue on making cases against others when he was accepting Dean’s words? His mind swam for a moment before his eyes landed on Cas.

This was Cas’s brother and that made him curious.

“Thoughts?”

Cas locked eyes with him before slowly standing up, turning around and lifting up his shirt. Once he heard Sam’s soft gasp he turned back around and in his gruff voice told Sam, “We won’t be able to find him. If we get a chance to get him it’ll be because he’s come to us and if he has it’s not with good intentions. Anything that happens after will be nothing but self defense. We’re all licensed to carry.” The finality in his voice let Sam know that was his story and he was sticking to it. Sam knew Cas would never fold.

“But he’s your brother.”

Cas shook his head.

“I’m much much younger. He’s never been my brother. He’s never been my family but I will tell you that what I learned from the years I spent with him was that he was dark. He was born without a soul. He is the devil incarnate. Prison is too good for him. He needs to be dead.”

Glancing back at Dean made something click in Sam’s mind and he understood suddenly. There were people who you saved and people who were beyond saving. There were people who you died for and people you were better off letting die. Slowly Sam’s mind started recategorizing his priorities in a way he never had before. He’d placed his family second to, well, pretty much everything. But they were family. His family. People he’d die to save and people he now knew, without a doubt, he’d kill for and knowing that, understanding that, well…wasn’t that kinda the whole point?

Chapter Text

He was 21 years old today. Too old to be a considered a kid, too young to be considered wise. Really if forced to categorized how he felt he would say unsteady. He had no anchor in his life. His mom was gone. His dad was gone. Hell, his brothers were gone.

He parked his car, an old decrepit green Nova that he’d bought with his own money. The house was still there, Michael still reigned over it in their fathers absence but he wanted nothing to do with it so he bypassed the bevy of cars that were available to him and opted to work as soon as he was able to. Everything else was provided for him and it had been easy to save for two years and be able to buy his own car. He would never forget the look on Michael’s face when he first saw it, parked, somewhat askew, in the garage next to the other cars, both new and classic. It may have been the rust he spotted along the bender, it may have been the off putting vomit green color it was, or maybe it was the large dent on the passenger door that did it but he’d had to bite the inside of his cheek in an effort to not laugh at the look of disgust on his brother’s face.

Anyway. He’d gotten her the year he turned 17 and he’d been driving her for four years now. He worked and kept her well maintained while he was in college. College was another thing he was paying for himself again in an effort to keep his distance from the house and everything that it brought once associated with it. He’d even changed his name, a homage to the mom he’d never met, the mom whose ghost, presence, he still felt. She walked alongside him. Even now. He couldn’t be sure, of course, but for every birthday everyone forgot, he liked to pretend that she was there, that she hadn’t forgotten, even as he made his own cake he envisioned her there, reading the directions from the box aloud in an effort to pretend that it was she who was guiding him through it, gently because in his mind that’s how moms were.

When he turned eighteen, he’d gone into his local bank branch and he met a girl who turned out to be a decade older than him but she was the branch manager. She opened his account for him, explained the ins and outs credit thoroughly and why it was important. She asked him about himself and what he did for work. He’d told her he worked for McDonald’s, had since he was fifteen. She asked him if he liked it and he’d hesitated. It wasn’t that he didn’t like it, he liked helping people, he just didn’t like smelling like fast food all the time. She’d nodded at him like she understood when he’d explained it, citing that she had a sister who refused to get a real job and instead waitressed because she liked knowing that every day she made more money even though every day she went home smelling like a tortilla chip (she worked at Chipotle.) “I don’t even allow her in my car until she bathes.” Anna had said.

After that exchange, Anna, the branch manager, had told him that she was going to tell him the best kept secret. He remembered how he leaned in to hear it and after a moment she’d told him. Banking was where it was at. You made money, more money than regular places, for the most minimum amount of work.

“But how would I get in? I have no experience in the professional field.”

She’d shrugged carelessly.

“You do, you just haven’t realized it. You have cash handling experience although admittedly not in the amounts that we’re accustomed to and you have client experience, after all don’t you also have to appease disgruntled clients?”

He’d huffed out a startled laugh as her words rang true.

“Anyway,” she continued, “for everything else you need to know, that’s what training is for, ya know?”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I like you. Want a job?”

He’d gone straight to his job after that, put in his two weeks, and then ended up with two weeks of vacation when his asshole manager told him to just get the hell out.

It turned out to be a blessing in disguise as he’d used those two weeks to relax. Michael wasn’t used to seeing him around so much and he’d commented as such. In an uncharacteristic move, mostly because his brother hadn’t been condescending or snide about his comment, he seemed merely curious and just a tiny bit concerned, his brow furrowing just a little bit, he’d paused the show he was watching and told his brother what had transpired. His brother had looked a little surprised and then much to his surprise, a look of approval had crossed his face. It was the first time that had ever happened.

Michael spoke slowly as though trying out each word. “I know…I know you don’t…I know you like to provide for yourself but…you’ll probably need business casual attire. Would it be alright if maybe I provided that for you?”

His breathe had hitched, a quick startled exhalation that made him cough as it got stuck in his throat. He looked from his brother to the tv screen and then back to his brother and maybe it was the faint shade of red on his brothers cheeks or the way he stood there patiently (unheard of for Michael) waiting for him to decide, whatever it was, it cinched his decision for him and he’d given one short nod before clicking off the tv and raised himself off the couch.

“I don’t want anything designer nor tailor made.” He’d said, looking somewhat pointedly at his brothers clothing that fit him like they’d been made especially for him. Michael always looked like that. He’d never seen him in jeans. Not once. A couple of times he’d seen him in lounge wear or work out gear but it was momentary and then the slacks were back. That day he wore light tan slacks, a white button down and a silk blue tie (the brought out his eyes) with a gold tie clip attached to it. He wore suspenders that added to the elegance. He looked regal. Everything he wasn’t and for a moment he was tempted to add that they’d go in his car just for how out of place and comical Michael would look in the Nova.

There had been a small uptick to his brother’s mouth, a hint of humor crossing his eyes before disappearing.

“I know a couple of places.”

He’d gone upstairs to change as he’d still been in his robe and slippers and when he’d come back down, Michael was still standing there, coat on, punching something into his phone.

Together, they’d walked silently into the garage and he followed Michael to his car. Michael had had it almost as long as he’d had the Nova and he’d never been inside it. Not once. It was a Bentley because of course it was. Still, he couldn’t deny that it was a beautiful car, leather seats with wood trimming, lined in, what else, gold. When he opened the door, the seat moved back on its own accord so he could settle in comfortable and when he closed the door, it scoot forward to put him back in place.

About halfway to wherever Michael was taking him he noticed his back was unreasonably warm and he had to ask…”are the seats heated?”

“Yes, if you want to adjust the temperature the button for your seat is right there. It might be a little hot for you, I just run cold so I usually have it set to the highest setting.” Michael had pointed at it and arched a brow when he leaned forward to turn it off but didn’t comment. That was the extent of their conversation until they reached their (or Michael’s anyway) desired destination.

He looked around, surprised they weren’t on Rodeo Drive but decided not to comment about it. He didn’t want to give Michael any ideas.

Michael parked his car with careful precision and they both got out. He caught sight of their reflection on the store windows, his brother in his clothes and he in his jeans and a slightly too big for him tee shirt, brown corduroy jacket and Vans on his feet. His brother stood at 6 feet while he was a few inches shorter. They didn’t look anything alike; he supposed it was because they were half brothers.

He pondered on that as he followed Michael who stopped before a J. Crew store and opened the door for him. He went through and was surprised by how relaxed it was. There was music playing, real music not that jazz shit that played in any shop you went into in Beverly Hills. And there were just regular salespeople, no one was at his beck and call, they would offer assistance if you needed it but weren’t there to make suggestions and whatnot. He liked it and for the first time in years offered his brother a real smile.

Michael had smiled back tentatively.

He’d gotten a few pieces of clothing that day. Chinos mostly, varied colored, even some burnt orange ones that he found the perfect sweater for. Blue lines with the same burnt orange every other line. That had been his favorite outfit. With each outfit he’d exited the dressing room and showed his brother and with that one his brother seemed to almost shake his head but something on his own face must have shown on his face because he wiped off the look and gave him a thumbs up. After that, they’d walked into a different store where Michael bought him four different shoes and a nice peabody coat that would look good at the bank. It had been a good day.

He thought back on that day as he walked along the sidewalk to his destination. Since those beginning days at the bank he’d risen within the ranks quickly and he currently worked as an investment banker. He’d found that people were willing to trust him with their money because they appreciated his honesty on what they could expect in returns and he was candid on the fees that were associated both with annual management fees and individual trades. There was one client that came in every September and gave him ten million to invest. It made him happy as that caused him to have a very nice end of year bonus. It didn’t hurt that it got there in the nick of time as the bank closed their fiscal year at the end of every September. Bonuses rolled out the second pay period of November. Just in time for Black Friday. This year that was today. Coincidentally it had also fallen on his birthday.

Which brought him back to the present. He entered the bar he’d set out to and after taking a look around settled in at the bar. It was his first drink and he was celebrating. Alone. Sure, he had some friends and co-workers who had celebrated with him earlier at the bank and some that were drinking with him later but every year he did something by himself. It was for a particularly pathetic reason if he had to admit it to himself. It was the time where he pretended that he was with his family. That he pretended his mother and father were there, that Michael, Gabriel, Balthazar and Castiel were there. Not the others, he thought, shuddering mildly. There was something wrong with them and he preferred to stay as far away from that train wreck as possible. Luckily, they’d never bother him. Much anyway.

After that day that he and Michael had shared they’d gone their separate ways once again. Sure they spoke a little more but it still wasn’t the relationship that he yearned for. It was weird, he used to not care but there was a girl that worked with him and she was four years older than her brother and until he met them he didn’t know how it could be but after he got to know them? He started to both yearn for it and at the same time miss something he’d never known to miss. His house didn’t feel like home. Not like he imagined theirs did. The younger brother went in every Friday without fail to take his sister out. He was 22 years old and drove like a crazy bat out of hell and without fail, he’d watch them take off, windows rolled down, music blasting, his co worker laughing outrageously at her younger brothers antics with the biggest smile on her face. He had never shown nor received a smile like that from any of his siblings. He doubted he ever would.

The bar he’d gone into had a karaoke stage, an old timer jukebox, and the bar itself looked like the one he’d seen on Cheers. It was quirky. He liked it. It had a tall fridge with a glass door and when the bartender greeted him he’d started with the first beer with the intent of trying them out. Or as many as he could before getting too drunk. He was on his third beer, a blueberry IPA that wasn’t half bad when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

It startled him. He’d been thinking of walking over to the juke box and putting something on by the Rolling Stones or, hell, George Strait, and he instinctively flinched before turning.

It was his brother. “Michael?” His brother took a deep breath but didn’t answer. He stared in shock as he took a seat on the stool next to his, watched almost in a haze as the bartender came over and listened to Michael order “Johnny Walker, Blue Label if you have it, neat please.” Saw the bartender nod and walk away and still Michael didn’t look at him.

It wasn’t until the bartender got back that Michael downed his drink and put it out, tapping it along the rim to indicate another that he turned to look at him.

“I know it’s your birthday.”

He stared at him.

Michael took another breathe, visibly seen as the light grey button down he was wearing expanded, and spoke again.

“I don’t know what happened to our family. I don’t know how it got like this. But I want to change it if you’ll let me. I used to tell the others that brothers was a title that had to be earned, through friendship, mutual respect, trust and love. So, I came here to offer you that. Friendship. We don’t know each other but I’ve seen what you’ve become and you’ve done well for yourself. I’m proud of you. Even more so because you’re doing it all on your own. What do you say, Samandriel?”

He watched as his brother held his breath and stuck his hand out to him waiting for his response. Thought about the sibling relationship he wanted and wondered if Michael was capable of it. His instinct was to say no but did he really know? He didn’t know Michael and Michael didn’t know him. Although it stung at first, hearing his brother say he just wanted to be his friend first before claiming him as a brother, he couldn’t deny that it made sense. To have the sibling relationship he wanted, they needed to be friends first and foremost. That cemented his response for him.

He stuck his own hand out to shake hands with him and nodded. “Call me Sam.”

____________

Twelve years ago:

“All baggage is unloading at corridor A.”

“Please do not leave bags unattended.”

“Have your identification and tickets ready at the gate.”

“If you need refreshments or a snack, please head to Easy Snacks, down corridor B.”

“Welcome to Amsterdam. We hope you enjoy your visit.”

Balthazar walked through the airport taking in the sights, limited as they were, listening to the announcements the disembodied accentuated voice told him. He enjoyed the cacophony that was prevalent around him, some people were running through the gates, loudly announcing their presence, others, businessmen, were on their laptops, fingers typing away furiously, children cried, women and men on their cell phones, heads bent over like drones. Still, others walked aimlessly like him, backpacks slung over their shoulders, looking around without really seeing anything, munching on chips or a bar of some sort. He was rather thirsty himself.

Remembering the mention of a snack place, Balthazar headed down corridor B, as so marked by signs located above him throughout the airport. He was starting to feel the effects of his admittedly rash decision. He hadn’t even told anyone he was leaving. He knew why. He knew it was because they’d tried to stop him. Well, at least he left them (and by them he meant Gabriel, everyone else was either A. a douche or B. too fucking young or C. in Michael’s case, he just didn’t give a shit) a note. He kept it simple, just letting him know he was leaving, though he didn’t tell him where, and why.

He paused in his step, apologizing to someone who yelled at him for stopping so abruptly even though they were the ones who ran into him. The backpack he was carrying falling harshly onto the crook of his arm. It was fucking heavy.

He adjusted it back over his shoulder, this time slipping both arms through the handles so that wouldn’t happen again and continued his search of corridor B, trying his damnedest to not cry. It would do him no good to cry. Taking the briefest glance behind him to ensure no one else would run into him, he paused in his step again, bending down slightly so as to regain his breath; get a hold on his emotions.

What he was doing was terrifying in a way he’d never known. He was 16 and alone. Truly and utterly alone. All because of his bastard, evil older brother. It happened the previous day. The day that was the anniversary of his mom’s death and he’d been lying on his bed thinking about the day she did as he always did when the date rolled around.

He laid there, throwing a small basketball at the wall, catching it when it bounced back to him and throwing it again. Over and over. His mind worked in the background, memories just bouncing around, akin to the ball when a series of memories hit him and he’d sat up immediately. Letting the ball fall uselessly next to him, mouth gaping open as he reviewed what he’d just thought of.

No. That couldn’t possibly be right. There was no way. There. Was. No. Way.

And yet…the facts couldn’t be refuted. It was there, in black and white. Memories, evidence of sort, piling into his mind faster than could be computed and then he hadn’t been able to stand it anymore. He felt the dire need to go away. He knew that if he came face to face with Lucifer, his brother would instantly know that he knew. And at that point he was powerless. He had to, had to get away, find some way to bring his brother down, make him pay but first he had to get himself together. Get it together, although at the time he wasn’t sure what it was, just knew that he had to be prepared and thus far, he wasn’t.

He just knew he needed to get away.

He wasn’t sure why he’d chosen Amsterdam although he guessed it had something to do with the fact that the previous day he’d completed a school report on a locale that he’d like to visit sometime and naturally he’d chosen the infamous Red Light District although thinking back on it, he could have chosen Las Vegas with the same result. His teacher had glanced at the subject on his paper when he turned it in and had laughed. “You’re funny.” She’d said. He’d smiled cockily at her and thinking back on it now, he felt a weird, surprising emotion of regret that he’d never get to see what his grade would be.

He felt a weight settle over his shoulders. He was on his own now. Memories of teachers telling him to apply himself because he was “a bright young man” came to mind and he took a deep breathe. He hoped they were right. Because now? His life depended on it.

_____________

Dean was a mechanic because that’s what he enjoyed the most, working on cars relaxed him, made him feel at ease. It was easy for him and he enjoyed taking a car apart and putting it back together again but lately he’d been wondering if he shouldn’t be more. He’d looked into it a little, trying to find a subject that would let him still use his hands but would maybe work out his brain a little more. He didn’t make the decision lightly and it had been a fleeting thought that came and left just as easily for the past several years but since meeting Cas and getting with Cas, the thought had become slightly more prevalent. Came a little sooner between visits and stayed a little longer than before.

Unbeknownst to his family, Dean had gone to the local library during one of his lunches and had done some research on the computer there. He had a laptop at home but it made him nervous that Cas might find the search and ask him about it. If for some reason he failed, he didn’t want Cas to know or think he was dumber than he’d thought. Dean was pretty sure he wasn’t dumb. He played dumb, often too, but he was pretty sure he was smart too. Either that or the people in his life had been lying to him all his life. Bobby, Ellen, Cas, Sam. Surely they hadn’t been lying. Unless they’d just been telling him that to appease him for not being as smart as Sam. Well, he was going to find out.

At the library he’d done searches for a long while before coming to the conclusion that the best field for him was engineer. It was like being a mechanic, you took stuff apart and put it back together but in such a way that it was a better version than before. The idea intrigued Dean. He liked making things better. It sounded akin to that time he’d put nos in Baby just to see what it would do. He’d installed a device that surpassed the speed limiter in her and he’d taken her to 160mph’s before a healthy ticket that almost made him get his license suspended (he was lucky it was his first offense) made up his mind to remove it. He didn’t know what he’d do if someone forbade him from driving Baby. She was his lifeline, his freedom, his, well, baby.
This thoughts plagued Dean as he finished giving his brother a good talking to and stepped outside. Something was bothering him and he trusted his gut enough to give it a good thought.

Why wasn’t Gabriel here? Why had he been crying when Dean called him? Why hadn’t Sam asked after him? Something was wrong and Dean needed to talk to him. ASAP. Something about this was reminiscent of taking apart an engine and putting it back. He was good with making plans and carrying them out. He liked puzzles.

Thinking quickly, Dean typed out a quick message that he hoped said enough and not too much at the same time. If he was right…

“Need to go pick up Sam’s stuff.”

He didn’t even have to wait a minute before the response, a simple “okay”, came back.

Dean began to plot, his mind’s wheels turning rapidly, and he quickly typed out another message. This time to Detective Rufus.

“Where are you with Lucifer?”

“No where yet. I got some new information that Detective Bradbury and I reviewed. After a glance I’d sent a couple of officers to go apprehend him and bring him in for questioning but he managed to give them the slip.”

“I have a plan.”

“I’m all ears.”

After making a plan to meet up with the detective, Dean headed back into Sammy’s room. He’d meant every word that he’d told his brother and now, in hindsight, he could see how telling the ADA that you were planning on committing murder was perhaps not the smartest thing, he didn’t care. Sammy was and would always be his priority. Even if he had to pay the price of prison.

______________

Gabriel was worried sick. Something had happened to Sam and there was not a damn thing he could do about it. He wanted nothing more than to be with him. He wanted to run his fingers through that silky hair of his, wanted to play “What color are his eyes today?”, wanted to kiss him, small pecks at first and slowly delve deeper, map out his mouth, taste him thoroughly, lap at his mouth, suck his tongue, nibble on his lower lip. He wanted to kiss him upside down, he loved those kind of kisses. He wanted to be the Lois Lane to his Superman. He wanted…he wanted…

A few hours later, Gabriel put down the phone after agreeing to see Dean and laid back against his pillows. He hoped Dean was coming up with a plan. He had to know that Sam had left, there was nothing of Sam’s left at his place and he knew that Dean knew that which only left…

He sighed and hoped against hope that Dean wouldn’t say anything incriminating once he arrived. Luci’s listening device was still there and still active. It made him angry and he almost trembled with unrestrained rage. He was going to take down Lucifer if it was the last bloody thing he did.

Carefully, he inched his way off his bed and into the wheelchair. He rolled his way out of the room and made his way towards the garage. There was something there that he needed.

__________

Dean’s heart raced. It was later in the evening and after talking to Gabriel, Cas, Sam, the detectives and Balthazar, they had a set plan. Sam had been released after getting five stitches put in and he wasn’t allowed to sleep for the next twenty four hours. The doctor wanted him to spend the night but Sam had resisted and ultimately had been released under Dean’s care. Dean smirked as he thought back to how the doctor had pointed stiffly to Dean and told him Sam’s care was of the utmost importance. No shit.

Dean drove his car into the alley behind Gabriel’s place, parked it and then sat there for a minute thinking dark thoughts towards anyone who dared harm his baby while she sat there, defenseless. Finally he got out and walked towards the end of the block where the detective was waiting for him to take him back. All they were going to do was circle the block and wait but better safe than sorry. None of them could chance Lucifer spotting him. They weren’t sure if he’d know who Dean was, still it was better not to take the chance.

They’d been in position for ten minutes when Sam rolled up. Dean mentally rolled his eyes as his brother’s plastic car. Why he didn’t go for one like Baby he didn’t know but apparently his brother liked all that cd, bluetooth and GPS stuff. Whatever, give him a cassette and a map and he could make his way anywhere. He sat there with the detective anxiously looking around, making sure there wasn’t anyone in the vicinity just waiting to gun his brother down but thankfully Sam made it in without any issues. Now, they just had to wait for one more person.

___________

“Sam said he was coming by later to see you.”

“For what? We’ve said everything there was to say.”

“Listen here you short little bitch. You’re going to answer him and listen. Otherwise you’ll deal with me and a broken leg will be the least of your worries.”

Silence

“Fine. Whatever. Just take his shit and go.”

Lucifer burned in anger at whomever was threatening his little brother. It was probably Sam’s older brother, Dean. Just because Gabriel and Sam had a thing didn’t give this asshole any right to mess with Gabriel. Only he could mess with Gabriel. Who the fuck did he think he was? No matter, he’d be getting what was coming to him soon. They all would. Even Gabriel.

His mind turned over the fact that Sam would be there later. He decided he’d make an appearance and after telling his right hand man to alert him to keep an eye on Sam and let him know upon his arrival, Lucifer sat back in his chair and let his thoughts roam back to Raphael.

He decided he could go for a blow job to relax his nerves, not that he was nervous per se of course, he was Lucifer bloody Milton for Christ’s sake he didn’t get nervous, just a bit and called his brother in.
When Raphael walked in, breathless as though he’d run from wherever he’d been to cater to whatever whim Lucifer had, he found Lucifer naked from the waist down, legs spread apart, palming his slightly engorged dick.

“Um, you called brother?” He tried to pull his eyes away from the allure but was helpless to do so, the sight beckoning him to come closer. He did.

“I need you to find me a partner. I need a blow job.”

Raphael’s mind raced and the words spilled out before he thought it through. “I could help you with that.” Then he stood there, shocked that he’d said it.

Lucifer merely arched a brow at him and continued his course. “How so?”

Raphael tried to speak but it took several tries before any words came out, his throat so dry. “I could…I could give you the blow job.” Immediately his face reddened and he turned to run out, not wanting to hear the words that his brother would undoubtedly have for him.

“Raphael.”

The single word stopped him in his tracks, his hand frozen on the door handle.

“Turn around.”

Raphael did. Kept his eyes on the floor.

“Look at me.”

Raphael looked up but his gaze got stuck where Lucifer’s cock was fully engorged now. His mouth was no longer dry. It salivated. He wanted.

“You know I won’t be nice about it right? I’ll give your mouth and throat a thorough fucking. Is that what you want?”

Finally Raphael looked up into his eyes. He gave a short single nod.

“Get over here then.”

Thirty minutes later Raphael left, his throat sore, tears still spilling from his eyes, his jaw had almost locked and his both of his cheeks had red handprints from where Lucifer had slapped him several times when he’d been forced to stop or he’d vomit but Lucifer had demanded he stay on task. It had been brutal but still he felt exhilarated. He’d finally gotten what he wanted.

As he made his way down the hall, he wondered briefly if there was something wrong with him, with Lucifer, to have done what they’d just done. He knew that just wasn’t done. He didn’t know if it had come after so many years of looking up to Lucifer, of working alongside him, of catering to him, he didn’t know when or how but he knew he’d fallen in love with his own brother. And he didn’t care.

______________

Sam and Gabriel stared at each other when Sam walked in like he owned the place. Sam fought his instinct to run to Gabriel and envelope him in a hug and never let go. Instead he stood there, taking him in from head to toe, a soft smile that he couldn’t contain on his face. It had been less than a day since he’d left Gabriel but so much had happened in the interim that it felt like it had been ages. It was only as he slowly took him in that Sam realized the ache in his chest that he’d felt was not from the accident as he’d thought, no. Now, as it slowly receded, Sam realized it had been a Gabe sized hole and as he drank him in, it was filling him up. He was feeling whole again, head be damned.

Then Gabriel opened his arms wide and Sam caught on. There were no cameras. He ran to Gabriel and almost crushed him, jostling his leg and only stopped when he heard a soft grunt emit from Gabriel’s mouth.

“I’m so sorry.” He exclaimed softly.

Gabriel shook his head and waved it away silently. Sam was there hunched over him, face just a few scant inches away and Gabriel didn’t want to talk. He draped his arms over Sam’s neck as best he could and brought him forward before slanting their mouths together and kissing him deeply.

Sam opened up to him immediately, as greedy for his mouth as he was with his. Sam’s hands came up to Gabriel’s hair and he tugged gently making Gabriel moan into his mouth. Sam smiled into it. As long as he lived he’d never have enough of Gabriel. He nipped at Gabriel’s bottom lip, swiped his tongue across it, mapped out the inside of his mouth, wanting to taste all of him. Their tongues entangled as Gabriel did the same to him and then it was Sam moaning into his mouth.

When they finally needed to breathe, Sam pulled apart but kept their faces close, breathing heavily into Gabe’s ear, causing goosebumps. “So. Who would you say won?”

Gabriel turned his head to Sam’s ear, licking up a strip of Sam’s neck. “I’d say we both did don’t you think Samshine?”

Sam nodded.

“You know I didn’t believe you earlier right?”

Gabriel looked down.

“I thought you did at first but then, no, I know you didn’t. Thank you, Sam.”

Sam’s hand went to cup Gabriel’s face as he steered it his way, making sure their eyes locked. “I mean what I said, Gabriel. You’re my person. I’m your person. For always.”

He fought back a blush as he said it. It was corny as fuck, he knew that but…God, did Gabriel deserve it. He didn’t deserve to be cast aside, to be used, to be disregarded. He deserved the world on a platter. And Sam was just the man to give it to him.

Chapter Text

In the end, the plan epically bombs. Dean isn’t sure what went wrong but later, when he talks to Sam about it, Sam admits that perhaps it was the matching smug looks that he knew he and Gabriel had on their faces. Dean sighs. “You counted the chickens before they hatched, huh, little brother?” Sam glowers at him and Dean gives him his own smug smile. Sam childishly sticks his tongue out at him. “Jerk.”

Dean laughs. “Bitch.”

The entire group had congregated at Dean and Cas’s apartment to discuss the events that had transpired. Everything had gone well in the beginning. Lucifer had pulled up in next years Aston Martin model, a beautiful car done in charcoal and black. He wore a white suit from head to toe, including white socks that had made Dean laugh mirthlessly at the sheer audacity a person had to have to flaunt something like that. The guy was really something. He’d stepped out of the car and taken a quick look at his surroundings as he straightened his suit and then took a few steps forward.

Dean and the detective had waited until Lucifer was in before stepping out of the vehicle and stealthily heading towards the house. The plan was to help Sam hold him until SWAT got there. Dean had grumbled when he was informed that due to budget cuts, SWAT now only went somewhere where they were sure the culprit was. Since there was a chance Lucifer wouldn’t show, they hadn’t shown up. Now though, they’d alerted them that they had him before entering the house. Dean was excited to kick it in but the detective had said shaken his head no and gently opened the unlocked house.

What he walked into made his stomach drop. Lucifer had a gun fixed on Sam.

“Oh.” He’d said in mock surprise. “Hello, Dean.” And then: “Aren’t you a surprise?”

Dean’s face had instantly morphed from one of shock to one of roiling anger.

“Well. Go ahead. Kill me.”

“Kill you? No, no Dean. I don’t want to kill you. Well, I do but not until you see what I do to everyone in your family…and mine.” Lucifer added, almost as an afterthought and then sighed like the very idea pained him.

“See, I’m tired of all this. I don’t like being chased and I don’t like looking over my shoulder and you and all your fucking, I don’t even know what, brothers in arms or some shit have been a PAIN. IN. MY. ASS. For far too long now.” Lucifer almost shouted the last piece. Dean hadn’t startled but then Lucifer took a step towards him and he moved back. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, Dean. What do you think I’m going to do?”

Dean’s brow furrowed. “You literally just told me you were going to kill me. And how did I get roped into this anyway?”

“I heard the way you spoke to Gabriel. No one, Dean, NO ONE talks to my siblings like that.”

“Oh, I see. You hold the monopoly on being a psychopathic dick to them?”

But then Lucifer had surprised him again. “And I can’t even do it now. I know you have people coming but that’s ok Dean. We’ll meet again soon.”

And with that, Lucifer had thrown a smoke bomb and just as SWAT was coming in through the door and the air was slowly dissipating, he was gone.

By the time anyone got their heads out of their asses and reacted, the son of a bitch was well and truly long gone and Dean was pissed. He wanted to go find Lucifer his own damn self and would have had his betrothed not threatened bodily harm if he snuck away. Dean wasn’t scared of anyone but Cas could be a motherfucker when he wanted to be and Dean definitely did not want to be on Cas’s bad side, not even for Sam.

Pacing the living room, Dean can’t help but remember the last time Cas got mad at him. The sheer memory of it, almost two years old still makes his pants slightly tighten and his breath quicken. It had been the evening of their first date. Although asking Cas out had been easy enough once Dean realized that he wanted Cas for himself by the time the actual time came around, Dean was so nervous he almost wrecked the whole thing.

He’d sat at home, in his underwear, staring at a black screen on the tv, thinking dark thoughts, feeling like Cas would probably not even notice if he didn’t show up when there had been a sharp knock on the door. Figuring it was Sam, Dean had walked over disregarding his state of undress and opened the door. He’d walked away after opening it, despondently saying, “what, Sam?”

He’d literally squealed (although he’ll deny it to his dying day) when he felt an actually painful slap against his ass. He swung around ready to both yell at his brother for touching his ass and punch him for hitting him so hard when he stumbled back, surprised as fuck to have come face to face with Cas who was angrier than he’d ever seen his best friend.

“You stood me up, Dean.” Cas had practically shouted at him.

“You noticed?” The words had slipped out of Dean’s mouth before he could stop them, his vulnerability displaying itself shamelessly.

The fight had left Cas’s eyes immediately. “Why wouldn’t I have, Dean?”

Dean had shrugged, somewhat meekly. “Ionno. Just figured you probably wouldn’t even realize whether I actually showed or not.”

“You’re an idiot, you know that?”

Dean had glanced up at the affection he could hear in Cas’s voice. “I am?”

“Yes. Absolutely. Who wouldn’t realize it if their date had never shown up? But Dean, more than that,” here, Cas had stopped and slowly encroached on Dean’s personal space, backing him up onto the wall, “who wouldn’t notice if YOU were absent?”

Dean blushed again the same way he’d done back then. There was something about Cas that didn’t allow you to think he was lying. Whatever he said was golden. It was Bible. It was law. If Cas said Dean’s absence would be noticed, no matter how low Dean’s self esteem might be, he believed him.

Damn, he was a lucky bastard.

Walking over to Cas, Dean grabbed his hand and telepathically let him know he wouldn’t be doing anything stupid. Dean didn’t have to worry about whether or not Cas got the message, he knew he had. Cas always understood him.

He glanced at Gabriel and felt more of a kinship with him than ever before. He’d liked Gabriel well enough but hearing Sam talk about him made him realize his friend had many of the same issues he did and he hoped Gabriel would believe Sam when push came to shove. It was an indescribable feeling to be able to trust someone to that degree and Dean knew he’d personally never experienced that before.

Glancing at them again, he got the feeling they’d be okay though, Sam had Gabriel pulled onto his lap and Gabriel was staring at him with sheer adoration on his face. Dean coughed to hide his ever growing smile and felt Cas squeeze his hand. When he looked at Cas, Cas smiled slightly letting Dean know he knew what he was thinking and feeling. Dean just smiled back.

He’d always felt like he wasn’t sure if the was a higher power but in that moment in time he couldn’t help but feel like maybe there was.

____________

Four Weeks Later: Christmas

Tensions were running high. There was an APB out for Lucifer and/or Raphael and neither could be found. Not knowing whether they were safe or not and having to constantly be on edge, be looking over their shoulder or in their rearview mirror for suspicious black trucks had everyone one edge.

Sam and Gabriel less so than Dean who was currently wound up tighter than a snake coiled, ready to strike.

“Dean, relax!” Sam stated for the fourth time in as many minutes. They were at the Roadhouse, in one of their private rooms, they’d invited all of their family and friends before everyone had to spend Christmas with their respective families and Sam was starting to feel stressed just from Dean being stressed. He knew that if their party was raided everyone, including him (for knowing about it) would be imprisoned. Everyone was strapped. Not everyone had licenses. They gave zero shits. Sam sighed and pinched his nose, feeling the beginnings of a headache.

“Uh uh, nope. Not tonight.”

Sam turned to find his beautiful boyfriend next to him, looking dapper as fuck in a purple suit with a black vest underneath. He looked so dapper, so debonair with that hat perched just so on his head, his gold hair peeking out, the tailored pants…everything looked delicious and Sam wished he could have presented him with the gold wing handcuffs already. Two more days, he thought, his heart rate speeding up at how much Gabriel was going to love them.

The past four weeks had been as different as night and day for the couple. Sam did his best to prove himself to Gabriel, stopping by the florist on a frequent basis to grab his boyfriend flowers before going back home from his run. He’d also turned Gabriel to some natural and organic pancake syrups so that he wasn’t just eating corn syrup. Not that Gabriel hadn’t known about them, but he hadn’t actually tried them, having preferred what he called “the real stuff”. Sam’s argument was that they weren’t even actual food, ergo, they weren’t the real stuff. Gabriel had been working on a healthier line of his desserts for the bakery using all the replacements Sam had researched and had even begrudgingly admitted that they tasted pretty good.

For his part, Sam’s favorite part of the morning was stopping by for flavored coffee. Due to the Lucifer fiasco, in which someone had gotten fired (even though Sam tried to save their job for them) for not having sent the SWAT team. Apparently, for the ADA they were supposed to, cutbacks or not. Whomever had known about the sting supposedly hadn’t known that so now internal affairs was looking at them to ensure they, like Ruby, weren’t also accomplices. As a result of that, it was deemed that it was best if Sam wasn’t at the office so he’d been working from home mostly which was a little inconvenient but allowed him the time to be with Gabriel at the bakery. They’d taken to singing to each other (and the crowd) songs that meant something, Sam going as far as privately learning a Spanish one Gabriel liked. He blamed Ruby for the unconventional method of working but had to admit it wasn’t all bad.

Ruby had gone down in the most spectacular way. Kicking and screaming like a damn banshee, threatening everyone around her as she was removed from her office (which only served in further implicating her) Sam could have sworn her eyes turned black at one point. Freaking demon. The thought that he’d given himself to her made him sick to his stomach. Thank Christ he had Gabriel now. Speaking of which…

“Have I told you how gorgeous you look tonight?” Sam asked him, pulling him in gently by the waist. Gabriel blushed as he was prone to do when Sam complimented him. That still tugged at something in Sam’s heart. Gabriel could do innuendo and pass off compliments better than anyone he knew, but receive one and nope, he couldn’t do it. So Sam kept at it. As much as he loved the blush, he was waiting on the day when he heard the words, “I know” come out of Gabriel’s mouth in his typical cocky manner when complimented.

Sam was brought back to the present by Gabriel wagging his finger at him. “Don’t try to distract me.”

“Distract you from what?” Sam asked, grabbing Gabriel’s hand and kissing the top and then turning it over and kissing his palm. He liked touching Gabriel and thankfully Gabriel was basically touch starved and never denied Sam.

“You had a constipated look on your face. You’re thinking about him again right? Stop thinking about my brother, Samshine. Please. Just for tonight. Let’s have fun. Let’s go dance instead, come on.”

Sam had told himself not to deny Gabriel either so he got up, straightened his own black suit that he’d paired with a purple paisley print shirt Gabriel had picked out for him that of course matched Gabriel’s suit, adjusted his own cufflinks and set off after his boyfriend. If Gabriel had asked him to put Lucifer Milton out of his mind then by golly he was definitely going to.

______________

Samandriel smiled to himself as he saw his brother struggling with the lights. They were supposed to have been done a few weeks ago. Usually Michael, if he bothered at all, had someone come in and hang them but this year, two weeks after their tentative agreement of a friendship, Samandriel had come down and asked if they could decorate themselves. Michael had hesitated but then agreed. Now he watched as his brother sighed in frustration as the lights did the one thing Michael wasn’t accustomed to: didn’t pay attention to him.
Michael looked up in that moment and caught sight of the smile twitching on his face. He glanced back down and when he looked back up he let out what sounded a lot like a giggle. Sam followed and before they knew it they were clutching their stomachs because of cramps and tears were rolling down Michael’s face.

“I don’t even- I don’t even” Michael tried to gasp out. “I don’t even know why I’m laughing” He finally finished, saying it in all one breath.

Samandriel was still laughing but he managed to shake his head.

After a few more beats they got it together and Sam took his brother in. Wearing lounge wear looking like he had nary a care in the world. The last four weeks had been surprisingly easy. They didn’t argue and found they had many similarities.

Everything was much the same, Sam was still headstrong, Michael was still prim and proper but they were learning to relax around each other. They were becoming brothers. And Sam was finally ridding himself of the Nova. It had been his stand against his family but his family now was Michael and he didn’t want a stand against him.

Of course he wasn’t getting a car like Michael’s. He was getting a truck. Like a Texan. A big Ford F-150. When he’d told Michael, he’d groaned and Sam had slapped him on the back. “Be glad I’m not opting for a dually.” “I don’t know what that is but it sounds terrible.” Sam had laughed and laughed.

Michael’s voice broke through- “You know, as frustrating as this is, it’s simultaneously the most fun I’ve had in years. How is that possible?”

Sam smiled. It was nice to know his brother was feeling the same about their relationship as Sam was.

“Because we’re together?” He asked tentatively.

Michael smiled. Bright and big. “I think you’re right. Which reminds me. This is completely up to you but I know where the others are. If you want, we could always surprise them. We don’t have to. We can spend Christmas here and visit them some other time but I just wanted to give you the option.”

“You…you know where they are?”

Michael having watched how serious Sam had become walked forward until he was in front of him. “I’ve always known. Kept tabs for lack of a better word. Only of Castiel and Gabriel though. I can’t find Balthazar. I’ve heard that Raphael is with Lucifer and I’ve ceased investigations on them. They are bad news and I don’t want to be tied with them in any way, shape or form. But I can give you Castiel and Gabriel. If you want.”

“And if they say no?” Sam asked, suddenly very much the baby of the family. Michael, in a somewhat startling move moved closer and gave him a hug. “In my career we have a saying. We won’t know until we try. They might say no and if they do, we’ll come back, we’ll do our thing, we’re still family. But Sam…what if…what if they say yes?”

Hope flared in Sam’s chest, hard, fast and tight. He wrapped his arms around Michael and squeezed tightly. “Yes. Yes. Thank you brother.”

“You’re welcome little brother. Our flight leaves tomorrow. Let’s get this decor up and we can go pack.”

It took them four hours, hours that passed quickly as they spent them together, getting to know one another as they had the previous weeks, telling each other stories about their lives, what they’d encountered. Samandriel told Michael about his banking origins, how he felt indebted to the girl who took a chance on him. Michael agreed, had it not been for her, neither were sure which way Sam’s life would have led. He wasn’t into drugs or anything but what world would he have been in? Still in the food industry? Would he have eventually found his way? Would he have succumbed to “the house”? Neither were sure but Michael agreed to look into her life and together they would decide how to best assist wherever she needed. They had the means for it after all.

For his part, Sam made a mental note to look her up once he went back to work after his allotted vacation time. It had been a while since he said hi.

_________________

I found him.

The text message. So innocuous, yet, almost deadly. Could change everything or nothing. For a moment Balthazar felt the same weight on his shoulders as when he was young when the thought entered his mind. What if he told his brothers? What if he didn’t have to make the decision all on his own. His heart raced. Could he do it? It was nerve wracking but somehow he felt at peace too. He felt like he could somehow. He had been left mouth agape with the reception he’d received. It was like he’d never left. Over the course of Thanksgiving and the following weeks, his relationship with them strengthened. He told both Cassie and Gabey about his mom and they’d cried both tears of anger and sorrow together. They’d had lunch together. Told each other that they loved the other, all three knowing just how precious time was. They didn’t want to waste a second of it.

His life had been hard. When he’d arrived in Amsterdam it had been slow going at first but-

His phone dinged again.

Hi caro.

Balthazar smiled. Milo and he had exchanged numbers and although at first Balthazar wondered if he was committing some type of faux pas since Milo had gone out with Gabriel, when he brought it up to Gabriel he’d laughed and assuaged his nerves. He had gone out to dinner with Milo but had never slept with him. He gave him his full blessing and told him they were a good match. Balthazar was inclined to agree.

Milo knew many languages as did Balthazar and on the first occasion to his home he’d been greeted with “Bem Vindo.” That one had surprised him. Not many people felt the need to learn Portuguese.

The first visit to his home had been the first of many and Balthazar had found that he was deeply interested in Milo and who he was. Of course he hadn’t been able to help but ask Milo what the hell had interested him in Gabriel to begin with. Milo had smiled and asked, “Do you know Gabriel?” Balthazar had to admit that he didn’t, not really. Milo had shook his head and responded, “Wait, then, wait and you’ll see what I saw.” And Milo had been right. The more Balthazar got to know his brothers the more he loved them. In the beginning the love had been one out of duty but now…he loved them as people. He was happy they were his brothers. In his heart of hearts he wished that the other two sane ones could join them but alas, he knew Michael. Michael was likely to slam the door in his face and go about his way. As for Samandriel, he was probably well and under Michael’s clutches…much like Raphael was under Lucifer’s. (How had that happened anyway?) Then again, Balthazar knew all too well how easily it was to rely on someone and be deep into trouble before realizing what was happening.

When he’d first arrived in Amsterdam he’d been taken in (luckily he’d thought at the time) by Eve who called herself the mother of all the outsiders like him. She’d influenced him in more ways than one, from his clothing, to his manner of speaking, hell, to his manner of being and he’d been so bloody thankful he’d never asked himself WHY. Why was she so taken in by such a young bloke?

In the beginning he’d had enough money that looking back he never really needed her BUT he’d been a wee lad of 16 years and didn’t know how to manage his money so really…well, it was someone’s fault, he just wasn’t sure that it was his even though it had been his fault that he’d run away. Then again, his dad…

He’d been fine for about half a year and then one day he’d run out of money and went to use the cards that he’d taken with him only to find that not a single one worked. Not a single one. His dad had cut him off without even trying to find him. Balthazar’s heart had both broken and hardened. He’d sat on the sidewalk and Eve…who he’d come to know just from living in the same neighborhood as her was walking by, saw his downtrodden face and had come over to chat. He’d spilled all to her and she’d taken him by the arm and walked him to her place which was really more of a palace and she gave him his own room, free of charge. Stupidly he’d never asked what sort of business she was in that afforded her such things nor did he inquire as to what sort of payment she’d be requesting for the room. He just assumed she was doing it because they were friends and that’s what friends did. Looked out for one another.

The very next evening she’d told him to bathe and left him some clothes to put on. It was some of the fanciest clothing Balthazar had ever worn and he was a fucking Milton. His family had money to throw away and yet…he’d never owned silk like the shirt she’d chosen for him, had never worn cashmere socks…had never owned pants that were tailored specifically for him.

She took him everywhere, operas, the finest of restaurants, plays…introducing him to many people as “fresh meat”. He’d laughed it off although admittedly the look on some of the men and women’s faces made him slightly uncomfortable. He hadn’t understood the comment or the looks…until six months after that when he turned 17. Fully primed and of age, she’d turned on him. Told him if he wanted to continue living there he’d had to pull his weight. She told him to pack his shit, that he was moving and he’d done so, stunned at the about face she’d just done but even then, nothing, NOTHING, could have prepared him for what happened next.

Dumbfounded and yet a little curious, he’d followed her into the car, a cream colored town car because only the best for the self proclaimed “Mother of All” that she had waiting for them. He heard as she told the driver “House number 3”, had seen the pity glance the driver had thrown his way, felt the discomfort in his gut grow and still hadn’t understood what was happening. Until they arrived.

At first glance it hadn’t looked like much, that is to say it didn’t look threatening, it just looked like a very small apartment with a lot of red doors. Hindsight told him that was the biggest tip off of all, the fucking red doors and still he’d not caught on.
The rest of the building was brown and although not exactly ram shackled it did leave a lot to be desired. The windows all had shutters but some of them hung askew, as though a mere strong wind could tip them over. What “porch” it had consisted of only a small covering, barely enough to hold one person over the main front door which was white of all colours. But each individual apartment had a red door. Off to the side, Balthazar had spotted a couple whose doors were not actually red but the light that hung over the door was a red light bulb, giving off the same look.

A couple of young men hung around on the steps, smoking cigarettes that were promptly put out as they recognized Eve. Balthazar took in their clothing and had to admit they looked good. One of the boys filled out his trousers in a way that made Balthazar envious for two reasons. 1. He wanted his body to look that good- thick thighs that didn’t need the pants to be molded to him, he did it on his own and an ass so round you could bounce a quarter off that thing. 2. Balthazar wanted to be the one touching that ass, wanted to be the one to caress those legs, to feel their firmness around him as he (whomever that fine specimen was) pushed deeper into him. Balthazar was 17 and boy did he want.

Although technically bisexual, Balthazar had long since discovered that his affection and attraction ran deeper towards men but he’d been waiting to give up his virginity to someone who really turned him on and HE, this boy, man, whatever, definitely did that, with his coiffed hair with visible blonde streaks running through it, the paisley print short sleeve shirt that was opened three quarters of the way down, showcasing a simple gold strand and a bare chest, biceps that showed themselves as well as a hint of a tattoo as the boy…man spared them a glance and continued talking to his buddies who were doing their best to pay attention while subconsciously seemingly fixing themselves for the queens arrival. Balthazar took it all in, the none too subtle hands running over their hairs, the pulling down of shirts, the straightening of pants, a boy closer to the back caught Balthazar’s attention. He seemed so small and he seemed nervous, going as far as bending down and rubbing some dirt off his shoes. He shook his head. Where were they?

“We’ve arrived Balthy.”

Something in their relationship had changed. Where prior to that day, Balthazar would have felt comfortable to cheekily respond with “no shit”, now he only nodded mutely and gathered his things as they waited for the driver to open the door. They were no longer equals and as Balthazar sat there looking out the window, he couldn’t explain the sudden feeling of chains dropping over him, encasing him, wrapping themselves around him. Holding him down tight.

No, they were no longer equals. Now something told him she was his master and he, Balthazar Milton, had just become a slave.

“Come Balthazar”. Eve’s voice shook him out of his dark musings and he followed her out of the car, squinting as the sun hit him in the face, full force.

“Don’t frown dear. You’ll get wrinkles.” Balthazar heard the words, registered them, but felt like he was having an out of body experience as his mind raced to put everything together. It wasn’t until a movement caught his eye that the flash of a red door passed by his eyesight again that all the dots connected and it took everything in his will power not to promptly keel over or worship the porcelain god (he didn’t need a toilet, the yard, brown and dried up as it was, worked just fine). But he couldn’t do it. Something inside him took hold, took over and said no. Straighten the fuck up. They may beat us but they will never break us. And so Balthazar had taken stock of himself, gotten his emotions under control, and stood with his back straighter than he ever had as a Milton. His nose in the air, to let everyone know, including Eve, that he didn’t belong there, he put as much force behind his eyes and his grey eyes turned to steel.

When Eve saw him, it was only years of practice that kept her from showing how discombobulated she felt. She might own his body but it would only be for a little while and he would never give her his heart, mind or soul. Those belonged only to him the same way hers belonged to her.

“Alistair, darling, come here for a moment.”

“Hello mother, you’re looking well. What did you bring us now?”

Balthazar watched as the man of his dreams, “Alistair” strolled up to them, cocky as shit but Balthazar couldn’t fault him, he had the right to be so. Up close he wondered if Alistair was truly Eve’s son. His eyes were the darkest eyes he’d ever seen. Balthazar would have insisted they were black had he not known that that particular pigment didn’t actually exist as an eye colour.

“This is Balthazar. He’ll be staying with us for a while. You’ll show him the ropes, won’t you darling?”

The predatory look Balthazar was shown by Alistair suddenly made his skin crawl but it was too late to do anything. “Oh, definitely. I’ll take it from here.”

“Thank you Alistair.”

She turned to Balthazar. “I’ll shall return in a week to get my tithings.”

Balthazar had glanced at the red doors once again and then back at her before giving her a single nod.

She’d never even asked him if he was sexually experienced.

He looked at Alistair. It looked like from the looks of it, he was about to have his first experience. He almost hunched in to himself but remembered his promise to himself and smiled back at Alistair before winking. Oh, he was going down alright, but he’d be damned if he didn’t get some say into how he went down.

________

For all his bravado and airs of confidence, this was something that Balthazar had yet to revel to his siblings. He knew he shouldn’t be ashamed, life had dealt him a certain hand and he’d done his best to make it a good one, still he had to confront the truth. Had it not been for what happened two months after turning 18 he probably never would have made it.

Eve had, at first, told him she was requesting a tithing but the matter of fact was that she took all the money. In return she supplied them with anything they needed but they never had any money of their own. Upon turning 18 Balthazar had been walking back to the place after having gone to an interview at a cafe, and was kicking the small rocks along the sidewalk, hands deep in his pockets, hoping against hope that he got the job without having any references or job experience. He didn’t feel like he could put “whore” on the application and had left it blank. He’d sighed miserably to himself and thought sadly once again at how much his dad must have not cared to have turned off his credit cards just like that.

He never even tried to contact me, thought Balthazar. And if he had eventually, Balthazar had no way of knowing. He’d just settled in to the “house” when his phone had been taken away. None of the boys were allowed them with the exception of Alistair whom, as Balthazar had suspected, wasn’t actually Eve’s, he was simply her first creature, her first alpha (it amused Balthazar to no end that too many of the other boys actually called him that, sycophants that they were. Either that or it was definitely a case of Stockholm Syndrome, Balthazar mused. Either way, he’d be damned before he ever called the snooty boy by such a title.)

As he’d walked along the sidewalk he turned his thoughts to what excuse he was going to have the following week when he went back to find out whether he’d gotten the job or not. The manager had looked at him inquisitively when Balthazar had explained that since he had no phone he’d just be back the following week to talk to him. Balthazar had just shrugged helplessly. There wasn’t much he could do on that end. It was what it was.

A paper hitting his ankle with surprising force shook Balthazar out of his thoughts and he focused on the orange piping along the sides. A lotto ticket. He’d often daydreamed what he’d do if he ever won the lottery. Fat chance of that happening since he never even played but fight it as he might, hope flared in his chest as he reached down to snatch the piece of paper and his mind and heart raced as he held it tight in his fist and made his way into the first crumbling convenience store he came across. He knew the chances of him winning were basically nil, he knew this and yet he hoped. What if- what if- what if?

His hands shook and sweat took up a home on the inside of his shirt and temple as he handed his ticket to the rotund cashier whose round stomach made the buttons of his shirt gape and Balthazar’s mind automatically took him to picturing that massive stomach pressing into the small of his back as the guy pumped into him, spreading his ass checks as far as they would go, occasionally smacking him on said cheeks. It wasn’t that this guy had fucked Balthazar before, it was just that Balthazar knew the type. Knew that his room was made up mostly of mirrors because most of the degenerates who frequented his room loved looking at themselves in the mirror as they debased another human being in the throes of their debauchery, knew that this guy would be one of those who perversely enjoy seeing his stupid round stomach flop on top of Balthazar’s non existent one as they took pleasure in how they dominated him. Although the era where gluttony was considered gloat worthy was long gone, in brothels the idea that it had represented was still alive and well. Nevermind that Balthazar was thin and ripped because that’s how he wanted to be, no, to them it was because he was underfed, starving and had to sell himself to them to eat.

“Sir!”

A hand waving frantically in front of him had promptly knocked Balthazar back into the smelly petrol station.

“What?” He’d inquired rather tersely.

“Sir, I said you won!”

____________

His phone dinged again, breaking Balthazar out of memories that were simply best left behind the recesses of him mind where he kept them. He decided against telling his brothers. Moot point, really. There was nothing they could do for him now, and anyway, him having acquired a lotto ticket that had inevitably changed his life had been a fluke, he might be something now but had it not been for whomever lost the ticket to begin with Balthazar would probably still be back there, feeling some random woman ride him into oblivion or he’d had gotten sick as Alistair had (he much later found out). Honestly these thoughts gave him the shivers so he did as best he could to put them all back in the closet as he turned his thoughts to Frank’s newest message where he inquired what Balthazar wanted him to do with his newest information.

Do you want me to move forward with this piece of information or shall I sit until your next command?

In your opinion, what should I do?

Ask your brothers.

The response surprised Balthazar although he’d come to find that Frank was simultaneously observant and candid, uncaring whether Balthazar might feel as though he were overstepping his bounds (he didn’t).

Best idea you’ve had, mate. Thank you.

Chapter Text

I won’t do this again. I swear to God I won’t ever do this again if I can just make it through this bullshit. The words ran through Dean’s mind the day before Christmas as he raced from store to store on Christmas Eve, cursing his propensity to procrastinate. As people (mostly men, he noticed) bumped into him and Cas he could practically feel those baby blues piercing into his head and without turning to look at Cas he pasted an apologetic look on his face. He never could get Sammy’s puppy eyed look down but he’d go down trying that was for damn sure. 

He heard Cas huff out a puff of laughter and knowing his mediocre puppy face had worked he finally turned to smile at him. As was the norm as soon as his eyes locked into Cas’s vibrant blue ones the world around him ceased to exist. Was he jostled? Bumped into? Inadvertently kicked in the shin by some kid riding around in one of those mall horses? Probably but at that moment in time Dean barely felt or heard anything around him. It was just him and Cas. The lyric was out of his mouth before he had the forethought to stop it.

Let’s make a promise

To the end of time

We’ll always be together

And our love will never die

He’d whispered the last part and he leaned in and closed the space between them and kissed Cas gently on the mouth. 

“Promise.” He heard Cas reply right as their lips made contact. 

Their kiss was quick by normal standards but the love was apparent and abundant to those that viewed the interaction. 

Up on the third floor a random young man who stood at the balcony, struggling with his own sexuality looked down at that moment and saw them. It gave him the strength he needed to be true to himself. He wanted a love like that. 

Now, I believe that wishes can come true

‘cause when I see my whole world

I see only you

______________

Four hours later Dean and Cas were finally headed home and Dean was very happy with his purchases even with the recurring accompaniment of nervousness he always felt around this time of the year. Dean was relaxed in most things, very go with the flow, let the chips fall where they may but there was one thing that Dean most definitely did not relax about and that was his family. By extension, Christmas, along with birthdays and anything else that involved presents was included in that. Dean picked out the best presents because he spent all year thinking of Christmas ideas (even with his propensity for last minute shopping). See Dean had a system; throughout the year every time he heard a “aw man, I wish I had this” and it was a legitimate desire of the recipient, Dean took out his phone and meticulously added said item to his list. Of course, some of the items were stuff he came up with all on his own, like the time he bought everyone a pass into the local ax throwing company. No one had requested that but Dean knew it would be a good bonding moment and of course it helped everyone stay able to wield any form of would-be weapon. 

He smiled to himself as he thought back to that day. On the down low Dean had been attending ax throwing classes and it was to his amusement when he caught the look of amazement on his family’s faces when he threw the ax with incredible accuracy at that watermelon, splitting it right in half, a regular live Fruit Ninja. Ha. It had been a great day. The one with the next high score was surprisingly (or not depending on how you looked at it) Bobby. It was surprising because Cas and Sam were younger than he but neither was into weapons as much as Dean and Bobby were. Cas, ever the pacifist, came dead last but Sam barely beat him. Sam’s gun shooting accuracy was as admirable as Dean’s but it seemed ax’s were too much for him. Dean laughed out loud as he remembered the look on Sam’s defeated and irate face even as Cas, who walked next to him, threw him a questioning glance. Dean just shook his head at him and squeezed his hand. 

“I like the way your eyes crinkle when you smile, Dean.” 

As always Cas’s candidness made Dean blush. He’d never met anyone like Cas and he wasn’t just saying that because he was the man who owned Dean’s heart. No, everyone who met Cas was either immediately besotted with him or immediately dismissed him. Their loss, thought Dean. I’ll keep him. Until forever and then some. 

“Thank you, angel.” 

“Want some lunch?” He asked Cas who grinned at him, the gesture barely discernible to the passerby but Dean who knew Cas inside and out caught the small tick of the mouth and he smiled goofily back. It was a game they played. They were so in tune with one another that most of the time they thought of the same place. In the beginning it had been almost unbelievable how when Dean would say he felt like Chinese or Pho or Indian anything else and Cas would gape at him and say he’d felt the exact same that eventually, to test it out they created a game where Dean would count to three and they would both blurt out what they were feeling just to feel that feeling of utter completeness when the other would say the exact thing as them. 

Today however, Dean’s grin back was a little sneaky. He and Cas had been watching a new episode of Dr. Sexy when it went to commercial. It was for a new place that had opened up, an Egyptian place, and he wanted to try it out. There was no way Cas would be thinking the same. There was no way they could both be Egyptian. 

“On three. One…Two….THREE!”

“Egyptian!”

“King Tut’s!” Exclaimed Cas. 

“Whoa.” Exhaled Dean. “Freaky. How did you know?”

Cas winked at him over his Ray Ban’s (a move that positively did not do a damn thing to Dean’s loins) and slid into his seat. 

“You’ll never know.”

Dean swallowed hard at his hot fiancé and then followed suit. 

____________

Getting into the Impala, Cas smirked to himself. He’d been with Dean when the commercial came on and he’d seen the way his fiancé’s eyes lit up. Dean loved food. All food. He was your all American male and loved steak and potatoes as much as the next guy but one of Cas’s favorite things about him was how willing he was to give everything a shot. Well, Cas conceded, maybe that’s giving him too much credit. He’s willing to try anything so long as it contains meat. Dean would only eat something like eggplant parmesan if chicken could be added to it. He’d eat lentil soup but only as an accompaniment to chicken kabobs and beef skewers. He’d eat broccoli but only if it was included in his steak and broccoli meal at their favorite Chinese restaurant. Still, as soon as he’d seen the sneaky look pass over Dean’s eyes he knew immediately what his fiancé was thinking about so even though Dean thought he was pulling one over his eyes, heh, well, luckily Cas could read him like a book. 

Cas smiled and pulled one of Dean’s hands into his lap as Dean pulled out of the parking lot. He stared out the window and pondered on another of his favorite things about Dean. Dean was so special, but unfortunately what made Dean special was how he placed things in his life in order of importance and family was at the very top. Meaning that Dean was a mechanic because he’d managed to find something he could do anywhere whilst he cared after Sam. Cas wondered if Sam was aware of how rare it was to find someone who would so willingly give up his own life to care for someone else. Dean had so much talent but even more than that what he absolutely oozed was character and Dean’s character too often submersed his talent. He did was he was duty bound to do, the most righteous of all men, at the expense of his very life. It was admirable and yet frightening. Cas shifted in his seat as he steered his thoughts elsewhere. It wouldn’t do to dwell on how easily Dean was willing to sacrifice himself for someone else. 

Without prompting, Cas mind played back to what happened every year around Christmas. It wasn’t a sacrifice, Cas could understand that, but no one else he knew did it and sometimes it concerned him without how much Dean could go out of his way for wanting to make sure Christmas and the holidays happened seamlessly, effortlessly, like if everything had just come together when Cas now knew how much work he actually put into them. Dean just didn’t want his family to know how much time and effort it took. Cas wouldn’t have minded if it was just because of a pride thing but the fact of the matter was that Dean didn’t call attention to his efforts because he still felt like they hadn’t been good enough, and that was unacceptable to Cas. 

Case in point: every year Dean bought a couple of extra generic type gifts…just in case people they weren’t expecting to show up, did. Over the years Dean had amassed quite the collection of beanies, scarves, gloves, mittens, candles, random books…etc and every year Cas would try to convince him that he needn’t buy more but Dean would just shake his head and continue to buy his gifts. This year it was some really cool ear gloves that looked quite dapper. They were stylish, instead of going over the head and messing up the recipients hair-do, they went around the head. Cas really wasn’t all that concerned about his hair but Dean had insisted that they were cool. 

The second item was a highly rated cell phone holder that had a suction cup underneath it to attach itself to the dashboard of a car. Cas wouldn’t have given much thought to that gift but when Dean picked it up he’d muttered that several people he knew would often complain about how their cell phone holders frequently toppled over because they were cheap. Cas suspected Dean wanted that for himself (although he insisted he didn’t want to “douche up” Baby) and as Dean stood in one check out lane, Cas excused himself allegedly for a bathroom break but he went and paid for an extra one at another lane. Internally he rolled his eyes at Dean for his excuse. It was a cell phone holder, not that iPod thing Sam had tried to sneakily install. Cas still laughed at the memory of Dean snatching it off the dash and throwing it over his shoulder without a second thought. It had been comical. Yeah, Dean was one of the most magnificent works of art that the universe had spit out but as Cas looked him over and took in his freckles and his lightly tanned skin, his beautiful green eyes, he told himself that he was going to do whatever it took to ensure that his man saw himself as he saw him, hell as so many others saw him. Cas would talk to Sam and their friends and hopefully together they could raise Dean’s sense of self worth. 

“Hey, angel?” 

“Yes, Dean?”

“Would you like to try Buen Giornio? We’re close to it. I know it’s not Gabe’s place but I’ve been in there before and they have a myriad of coffee choices. I know how much you like your coffee. Wanna try it?” 

Cas smiled at him and nodded. “Sure, we’ll just have to keep it a secret from Gabe. Don’t know how much he’d appreciate us going to the competition.”

Dean laughed but shook his head. “They barely count as competition, really. They just have good coffees and espressos, when it comes to everything else, Gabe’s place beats it easily. He is really good at that baking thing.”

Cas nodded. “Yeah, if it wasn’t for him I’d definitely have a different body. As you know, I can’t cook to save my life and Gabriel always made sure I had a hot meal waiting for me with plenty of vegetables. I wasn’t a baby when we left and yet he made sure to tell me that he wanted me to grow ‘big and strong’. (Cas made air quotes here and Dean’s heart smiled)

“I know people that judge him based on who or what he portrays but I swear if they knew him the way I do. In a way…and I don’t mean this to sound as uncomfortable or strange as it probably will, but have you ever heard the saying that we marry either the parent we’re closest to?” 

Dean nodded. Yeah, he’d read that somewhere. 

“Well,” Cas continued, “In a way Sam and I both did that. I’m marrying you and you’re a lot like Gabriel and Sam is finally with Gabriel who is a lot like you. Sam and I could never have been together, we’re too much alike.”

Dean shuddered and scrunched his nose in displeasure at his angel. The idea of Sam and Cas doing anything of the things they’d done together was repulsive. He quickly dispelled the imagery from his mind. 

“Hmm, I get that although-“ Cas smiled to himself. He quite enjoyed himself on the rare occasion that Dean allowed himself to give additional input as options. Especially when it came to Cas or Sam. Dean held them so high up a pedestal that it was rare that he felt his own personal opinion was worth being tossed into the metaphorical hat. 

“ At the same time, I feel like it’s hard to decipher whether it’s because we are actually like your parents or if it’s some sort of opposites attract type of thing, you know? Where you and Sam are intellect and calm, Gabriel and I are significantly more chaotic and unorganized, aren’t we? Sometimes I wonder if people who know us wonder how you and Sam didn’t end up together. Both of y’all are book smart, imagine all the conversations y’all could have had. Imagine the museums he would have enjoyed. You’re almost grounded here because you know I don’t do places I can’t drive to. Sam, though, Sam could have taken you to see the largest bees in the Himalayas whereas I can only offer to take you to Utah, to where they have the largest beehive. Hell, sometimes I wonder if I should have stepped aside for my brother.”

“Dean. Stop.” Cas said through gritted teeth. This. He hated this about Dean. How he decimated himself without even second guessing himself. He second guessed everything else but berating himself? No, he did that without an additional passing thought.

Dean stopped. Cas took a deep breath and centered himself, controlling his thoughts into a coherent one so he didn’t fly off the handle at his beloved. 

“I suppose it all depends on your definition of strong or intelligent or what have you. I think the fact that Gabriel had the forethought to take me with him when the situation at home got bad enough lends him more credit than most people would give him. He didn’t have to do that. He could have been like Balthazar and disappeared without a trace. He could have shut himself off like Michael. For all points and purposes I could have ended up like Rafael, just following Lucifer blindly. Think about it, Dean. What reason, really, did he have for taking me with him or than because he wanted to remove me from what he perceived as a toxic environment?”

Dean was quiet as the mulled it over. He knew Cas didn’t like it when he put himself down and in typical Cas formation he’d presented him with a problem he knew Dean couldn’t solve without inadvertently putting Cas down. If he said that it’s because younger brother had to be saved, if he said younger brothers were older brother’s responsibility, Cas would undoubtedly point out that not only had he left Alfie (Dean still wasn’t sure how that kid ended up with that nickname, his name was Samandriel) but he’d never even gone back to try to get him and Dean sorta understood it. But if he argued that by the time Cas was actually old enough to do something too much time had passed, Cas would argue that Dean (and Gabriel) had both been younger than he was and had taken on the roles of caretakers and then would throw the argument back at him and asked him if he’d ever left Sam behind no matter the time elapsed and the answer to that was a flat no. 

So Dean didn’t know. If taking care of your younger brother regardless of anything else made you smart or superman or whatever the fuck Cas and Sam tried to tell him, what did that make them? Sam, of course, didn’t have anyone younger to watch over but Dean wasn’t dumb enough to not see that for everything that he’d easily do for Sam, Sam would be much slower at throwing his life away if the situation were reversed. But Cas was right. He had a younger brother and from what Dean knew, he hadn’t actually tried to go help his own Sam. 

He cleared his throat. 

“Yeah, I, uh, get where you’re going with that. Hey, Cas? Can I ask you a question?”

“Yes.”

“I suppose I just don’t understand it. I don’t know what makes some people be a certain way, take on certain roles but not others…why didn’t you or why haven’t you tried to see if Alfie was fine far before now? I just can’t see myself ever leaving a younger brother behind no matter the circumstances and to a certain extent I almost, I don’t know, I almost understand the certain selfishness of Sam because he’s the baby and babies of the family are notorious for it, it’s a personality trait and all that but you…you technically aren’t. Which means that you should have had the older brother instinct in you, don’t you think?”

“This ‘older brother instinct’ do you feel like it’s a marker of a certain level of intelligence?”

Dean shifted in his seat. “I’m not sure. I think it’s more like what I said, it’s an instinct.”

“So the fact that I don’t feel that way about Alfie…am I missing something?”

“What?! No, Cas! Definitely not.”

“You can’t have it both ways, Dean.” But there’s a smile in Cas’s voice and Dean looks over at him. 

“You’re a little fucker, you know that? You’re just fucking with me.”

Cas lets out a small laugh, before turning his head away and continuing his trace of something only he can see on the window of Dean’s Baby with the blunt head of his forefinger. The thought to wash Baby’s windows later mentally catalogs itself in Dean’s head. 

“Yes, I am. Truth is, I don’t have an answer for you. I can take a stab at it and say that at the end of the day you and Gabriel are leaders. Sam and I don’t have the type A leadership skill that comes innate to both of you. That’s not to say we aren’t type A. As you pointed out we do read more and can be slightly more organized but on the flip side, arguments could be had that perhaps you’re both smarter because you do that only to things that matter. Both you and Gabriel’s apartments are a mess without me or Sam there but the garage you work at is impeccable as are Gabriel’s many kitchens. I’ve often wondered if there is such a thing as Type A personalities with the tendencies of followers versus leaders. Because when Gabriel told me we had to leave Alfie, I followed his word without a second thought and if you and Sam had been in the same situation, I have no doubt that the outcome would have been the same. 

Then again, it is possible and honestly, quite probable, that by the time this antecedent occurred, my physique had already formed the connection between Gabriel and parental guidance. Unbeknownst to me, it already saw Gabriel as my inherent parent, much as Sam sees you. 

This theory,” Cas turns to look at Dean here while Dean tries his hardest not to look at him, he doesn’t know why compliments make him so uncomfortable but they just do, even when faced with irrefutable proof such as the way Cas is laying it out for him. Cas continues, “ confirms that although you are correct, we are indeed both intelligent and capable, not to mention sufficiently of age, when it comes to you and Gabriel our subconscious reverts or regresses, if you will, with the conclusion being that we once again leave things in your hands.”

“How can that possibly be a good thing?” Dean cuts in, heartbeat speeding up at the thought of Sam having that much faith in him. It can’t be true. Dean isn’t a parent, much less a good one. It hurts to think what Sam could have been if he’d’ve had a better parent. 

“Simply put, faced with a major decision it’s easier for us to see to you both to tell us whether we can’t or can, should or shouldn’t…etc. Even going so far as to letting you decide what is an acceptable win or an acceptable loss…as is my case with Alfie.”

“Cas, how does this not scare you? How do you know that we aren’t leading you down a very wrong path?”

“How can you even ask that?” Cas asks him, reaching over to take his hand. “Were it not for you and Gabriel, I cannot even bear to think of what would have been of Sam and I. Dean, if we take your word as ‘Bible’ (Cas brings his arms up to quote the Kardashians, one of Dean’s guilty and very private pleasures) it’s because we can see that you’ve yet to let us down. Both of us finished school and both of us became what we wanted to be but more than that, both of us had a bed. Both of us had clothes to wear, food to eat, computers and books, money to go out, had a childhood, we both a childhood because of you and Gabriel, Dean, please.”

Dean looks over sharply. Cas appears to be in tears. Even as Dean is looking at him, completely ignoring the honking truck behind him (he know the light turned green already, thank you so much) one tear falls out of each of Cas’s bright blue eyes. The idiot behind him is still honking so Dean moves, pushing the gas on his old Baby and quickly finding a parking spot before turning back to Cas who is still looking at him. 

Dean feels like he knows what’s happening but where once upon a time he would have uttered some nonsense about Winchester’s not doing chick-flick moments, he can’t do that right now. Not to Cas. Not to something that obviously means so much to Cas. Instead he pushes away his own discomfort at where this conversation is headed and reaches over to hold one of Cas’s hand with his own, the other one coming to wipe the tear off his face. 

Swallowing hard, Dean finally speaks. It comes out as a whisper. As a beg. 

“Don’t cry, angel.”

Cas whispers back. 

“My most cherished wish, Dean, is that you one day see yourself as we all see you. You are so beautiful, inside and out. You are pure, gold-hearted, you’re good. You came into my life, our lives, and wiggled and pushed yourself under my skin until I saw you and even when we’re apart I can still feel you. It’s like your name is carved into my skin, into my very being and Dean, I see you. Please, Dean, baby, see yourself as I see you. You’re worth the world and if I could, I’d lay it at your feet.”

Dean feels floaty. But he’s listening because Cas calling him baby startled the every loving fuck out of him. It shocked his system. He’s never called Dean that and it means a lot to Dean. He might not believe in himself as much as Cas seems to allude that every one else does but Dean does have something to give him. 

Even though he still feels adrift, in the weirdest way, Dean opens his mouth and tells Cas what he’s been sitting on. 

He feels himself blushing even as he says the words, squirming in his heat, knee bouncing up and down. He doesn’t even care that it’s hitting the steering wheel and is mildly uncomfortable. 

“I’m going back to school Cas.”

Dean watches as Cas freezes, his face registering zero emotion and damn, he really should teach Cas how to play poker, he’d make a fucking killing. 

“What do you mean, Dean?” Cas asks carefully, like if he’s not daring to think about the very obvious statement. 

Dean narrows his eyes at Cas and gives him a slow eye-roll indicating that he’s fully aware of what Cas is doing. 

“Exactly what I said.” Dean says on an exhale. 

“I’ve been looking and I think being a mechanical engineer is something I’d like to do.”

“What made you come to this conclusion?”

Dean shifts in his seat.

“Honestly?”

“I’d prefer the truth, yes.”

“Well, you might not like it but hear me out, ok?”

Cas nods. 

“I look all around me and everyone is accomplished but me. I started looking because I felt dumb, but!-“ he continues on quickly seeing Cas’s face contort into something that’s less than pleased at his words, “the more I looked into it the more I realized that not only am I pretty sure I can do it but now is the perfect time to do it. Sammy doesn’t need me the way he used to, and not that he was holding me back but it’s just that I needed to provide for us, you know? Now you and I are getting married and I want, I need to be proud of myself when I’m standing next to you. Cas, you know I’m not real good with words but suffice it to say that on the road to become someone you could be proud of, I realized that I wanted to be proud of myself too.”

Dean stops talking and holds his breath. He’s not sure what reaction he’s expecting. It’s not that he thinks Cas will tell him he’s too old or ask him if he’s sure he can do it, but old habits of low self esteem are hard to fight and he did basically just bare his soul a little more than the norm. 

Cas engulfing him in a tight hug is definitely a surprise. 

“I want to say- I want to say that I’m so proud of you. Not that I’m not already but I’m proud of you because it looks like you’re realizing your own worth, your own deep intelligence and for that I’m so damn proud of you, Dean.”

Dean knows Cas. He knows everything he’s saying and everything he’s not and in that moment he’s completely and utterly at peace. Not only is he pretty much a hundred percent sure he can do this but he has Cas backing him and knowing that means more than words ever could. If Cas believes he can do it, then Dean knows damn sure he can. 

When they separate Cas leans back and  gives him the tiniest of grins, more eyes than anything else but Dean knows what he means and he gives him a huge smile back. 

________

That evening

All of them were together for Christmas Eve and Sam hadn’t felt this happy in a long time. Over the course of his life his small circle had grown and now, watching his brother run back and forth, ever the quintessential and gracious host, Sam feels happy and free. Lucifer and his cronies are still at large but once again Sam is putting them out of his mind. They aren’t worthy of any place in his mind today. He refuses to allow them to intrude. 

Gabriel, of course, helps with that. Sam can’t stop looking at him, can’t stop touching him. Tonight, Sam’s boyfriend is wearing tuxedo pants with a Christmas plaid coat over them, featuring the traditional green and red lines but with white holding its own so it doesn’t look like too much. Just like Gabriel, the coat is perfect. It has a deep v and the lapels are made out of velvet. He’s wearing a white button down shirt underneath and a black bowtie. He looks gorgeous, adorable and utterly kissable in it. 

Sam doesn’t look so bad either, if he does say so himself. He’s wearing a tartan tweed coat with black pants underneath that Kevin helped him pick out. They’re slim and fit him to a tee. He paired it with a muted red tie and a black shirt. He looks damn good and if the looks Gabriel is sending his way are any indication, he thinks so too. Sam smirks at Gabriel, enjoying the red dusting that brushes over his boyfriend’s cheeks before turning to look at his brother and Castiel. 

Dean and Cas look different tonight. Not their clothing but them. They have a secret and one that Sam hopes they share with the class soon enough. His brother looks young, like years of a hard life have just been wiped away and Sam feels so damn happy at whatever caused that. He catches Dean’s eye and he tips his glass of eggnog his way, his eyes saying everything. He knows Dean will understand. Dean always understands. 

Dean smiles back at Sam, smile big and bright and it’s contagious as hell because Sam finds himself grinning back just as brightly, his dimple unwittingly showcasing itself. 

__________

An hour into it and everyone sorta freezes when the doorbell rings. Sam, Gabriel, Dean, and Cas all look at each other because everyone that should be there, is and they don’t know who it could be at the door. 

Dean, of course, takes the reigns, nodding at Bobby who nods back and it’s a nod that seems to go around the room because by the time that Sam’s crossing the room to follow Dean to the door, everyone else has formed somewhat of a line behind them and Sam just knows that they’re all feeling for their pieces. 

Sure enough, right before Dean opens the door Sam hears several clips slide into place and as serious as the situation is he can’t help but give himself a small shake of his head. Family. Can’t live with them, can’t live without ‘em. 

Dean and Cas are at the door when Dean opens it and Sam’s lucky he’s so tall because he can see the two men standing there but doesn’t know who they are. Simultaneously he hears Dean’s deep, “Who the hell are you?” And Cas’s sharp inhale. Sam decides that he might not know who they are but he’s feeling like he has an inclination. 

Upon hearing Cassie, Gabriel pushes himself forward to peer over his shoulder…and his jaw drops open. A loud buzzing starts in his head and somewhere deep in there he can hear Balthy insisting that they let him through but he can’t bring himself to say anything-to do anything. Cas also appears frozen if Dean’s loud, “Cas! Cas!” Is any indication. 

Gabriel doesn’t land back on earth until he feels a big hand land on the small of his back. It’s his rock, Sammy. Feeling Sam there gives Gabriel the push he needs to turn to Cas. 

“Cassie!” That does it because Gabriel is using the tone Cas would feel reverberate though him no matter what. It’s enough to bring him back and Cas jumps where he stands before turning to Gabriel and stepping aside, hunched into himself. 

It’s a display that Gabriel despises. It’s been a long time since he’s seen it but he knows what- or rather who caused it and he briefly turns to the two porch occupants and puts up a finger. 

“Hold on.” He demands before turning back to Cassie. 

“Cassie, look at me.”

Cas is looking at the floor, looking forlorn. Looking every inch the little kid that Gabriel ran away with that night. 

“Cas.” An octave lower has Cas straightening a little but his eyes still aren’t up. They’re still down on the ground and Gabriel can’t emphasize just how much he hates this. 

“What is happening? Who are these people?” Dean demands, righteous anger lacing his voice, at the very image that Cas is portraying. 

“Just a minute, Dean.” Gabriel tells him. Normally, he appreciates the way Dean can bring his brother out of his shell but right now Dean is so out of his element that Gabriel knows he has to take control. 

“Castiel.” One sharp word and Cas’s head snaps up. In his whole life Gabriel has only had to use this particular tone twice and the first time was when he found out Cas was thinking about running away because he felt like he was a burden on Gabriel. Like it hadn’t been Gabriel that dragged him with him. The memory of that moment is still so outrageous to Gabriel that he almost scoffs out loud. 

“We’re all here, ok. All of us are here. There is nothing they can do. Do you understand? No matter what they want, no matter why they’re here it’s me and you, kiddo. Just like then, just like always. Me and you. You with me, little brother?” Gabriel is delivering practically the same speech that he had done before and even holds his fist out so Cas can bump it. Cas isn’t a fist bumping type of person so feeling his brother’s fist touch his is always followed by a weird emotion. It’s also only the second time Gabriel’s ever felt it. 

“I’m here too, Cas.” Dean says, voice firm and strong and honestly Gabriel could just kiss Dean right then upon seeing how Cassie finally relaxes. 

“Me too.” Sam says, quietly but just as steely and unyielding. 

It’s when Balthazar speaks up that Cas’s mouth ticks upward just the tiniest bit but everyone exhales a sigh of relief because for Cas that’s practically a laugh. 

“Me three.” 

Balthazar and Gabriel turn in tandem to their brothers who are still standing on the porch, glancing from one face to another. Gabriel still doesn’t know what to say but, if there’s anything Gabriel is learning, is that the more brothers the merrier, because he doesn’t need to say anything. Balthazar beats him to it.

“What the bloody hell are you two blokes doing here?”

By this time everyone has crowded at the door and everyone watches as shock boomerangs across the face of the two men. 

“Balthazar?!”

“In the flesh.”

“But-but” the younger man stutters out and pulls his red hat further down his head. 

Dean grins when he sees Balthazar roll his eyes. 

“Yes, I do seem to get that reaction out of everyone. You thought I was dead, yada, yada. Well, I’m here and I’m alive.”

Dean watches as a dark look passes over Balthazar’s face, (and yes, there are definitely some skeletons in that closet Dean decides, recognizing that look as one that he’s seen in his own mirror plenty of times) before he continues, this time looking at the elegantly dressed, blue-eyed man straight in the face. 

“A better question, Michael, would be why the fuck are you here?”

_________

If anyone would have asked Dean what he thought he’d’ve said to leave their asses out there. Alas, no one did and once Gabriel got his shit together, he stepped aside and told everyone to back up and let them in. Dean grumbled but complied, shifting to the side…after giving them his hardest stare of course. No one fucked with his family. 

Once they’d walked in, looking for all the world like they were walking into a den of lions, Dean felt they were sufficiently cowed and relaxed the tiniest bit. They appeared to be alone and Dean’s gut was telling him they were alone and not a threat. Dean’s gut had yet to let him down and he’d long since learn to trust it. 

Still, he remained standing whilst everyone took a seat, collectively surrounding the two men. Dean took them in from head to toe, mentally cataloging everything, searching for any potential threats he may have overlooked the first once over. 

The older one navy blue slacks that were obviously tailored. If Dean didn’t know any better he’d say “Michael” was even better dressed than Balthazar. Dean still wasn’t sure how he felt about “Balthy” as Gabriel called him, but he felt like he was coming around. In any case, he’d definitely earned some brownie points in Dean’s eyes when he’d shown them everything his private eye had on Lucifer Novak (and Milton), Raphael and the rest of their shums. Sure, the guy dressed like a douche but Dean could easily forgive that…especially since now he knew there was more there…something that gave Dean the impression life might have been rough for young Balthazar when he first left home. That was something Dean was all too familiar with.

Along with the tailored pants, Michael sported a white button down, a deep red sweater with a cross neck enclosed over a large brown button and an expensive looking tweed coat over it. He had a matching deep red handkerchief in the breast pocket of the coat and Dean almost laughed. This guy was way too put together. Dean released another breath of relief as he realized why. He was doing his best to make a good first impression.

And his shoes…Dean had to admit a grudging respect. He loved those shoes. He recognized them from their instagram page that Dean secretly followed. He’d found it when he’d been admiring a pair of boots that Dwayne Johnson was wearing. They were Magnanni and they were beautiful. 

Aside from that, if Dean had to guess, Michael stood at about 6 ft. Dean had originally thought he was about Cas’s height, just an inch under him, but when Michael passed Cas he was probably about an inch shorter. Maybe. He had grey/blue eyes and dark rich brown hair. Again, almost as dark as Cas’s but not quite. He had nice strong features and Dean had to admit that the Novak/Milton family was a good looking family. 

Then there was Samandriel, or Alfie, as Cas was prone to calling him. Dean wasn’t completely sure about this as introductions had yet to be made but he used his world class powers of deduction to come to that conclusion. Dean smirked to himself as he looked Samandriel over. 

Sam, and god it was weird to be calling someone by that name and not be referring to Sammy- his Sammy, was considerably dressed down, especially in comparison to Michael. In fact, he resembled Cas more in his attire. He seemed to have missed the Christmas memo altogether, in simple grey chinos, a white button down shirt and his own brown boots. It’s was a good outfit on him, hung right on his roughly 5’8 ft frame, but lacking of any Christmas inspiration whatsoever. Even Dean’s outfit was more festive than Sam’s and that was saying something. 

Dean glanced down at himself taking in his ripped at the knees black jeans. Sure they were technically jeans but they fit him like a glove and he liked showing off for Cas. He was wearing it with your typical Christmas plaid button down, untucked, and a Ralph Lauren knit black sweater over it. With boots. He looked festive, dammit. 

He glanced to where Cas stood and, yeah, ok, maybe he could have done a tiny bit more but really Cas more than made up for him. Cas loved holidays and he took great pride in finding the most festive (ugliest things Dean had ever seen) sweaters he could find.

The thought makes Dean look over at Cas and sure enough, his fiancé is wearing a sweater that upon further inspection, makes Dean glad there aren’t any children around because, Christ, talk about awkward conversations. He’d only given it a cursory glance but now that he’s really looking the deer or elk or whatever the fuck they were are boinking each other and in the middle of the sweater is a face of said animal with large horns. Underneath it is the word, “horny” and really at this point Dean shouldn’t even be surprised that Cas is wearing such a dirty sweater but he knows Cas probably hasn’t even noticed, really noticed what it says. If Dean was to point it out he’d get the squinty eyes and “but they are horny, Dean.” In return. 

This is the second time Cas has worn an inappropriate sweater but damn if he isn’t forgiven because the pants he wears more than make up for it. 

Cas is normally a pretty subdued guy. He’s not milquetoast or anything, he’s just not super brash or splashy. But Christmas seems to bring out a different side of him, even if for that short season and he displays his show of color in his pants. Last year they were a shade a blue that made Dean wonder how they’d even been made and this year was no exception. He was wearing a pair of pants so red a fire engine truck would have trouble being brighter than him. Dean would have shielded his eyes was the view not so damn pleasing. Fuuuu. 

Cas had muscular legs. No, that wasn’t quite right. It was more than that. One of Cas’s thighs was the size of both of Dean’s thighs, maybe even bigger. And it wasn’t that Dean had little wimpy legs…it was just that Cas’s legs were that big. And at the moment they were encased in a super tight pair of pants that couldn’t do much more than hold it together and showcase the beautiful tight bulging muscles that ran underneath it. And, yeah, Dean needed to get it together before he was showcasing his own beautiful, tight, bulging muscle. 

He snickered. He might be old now but as Sam repeatedly told him, he had all the maturity of a five year old. He snickered again because so did Gabriel. Cas was right. Sam was sticking himself with because a different version of Dean. Of course in some situations that sounded in a little weird but Dean was choosing not to think of those situations. 

Dean’s train of thought is interrupted when Sam decides to break the silence by commenting on the sweater.

“I really don’t remember you much but that sweater is kinda out of character for how I remember you.”

Cas glances down at the sweater and Dean’s eyes narrow but when he looks at Sam’s eyes, his eyes are wide and curious. He doesn’t mean anything by it, Dean sees. He’s just curious about his older brother.

That makes Dean speak up. 

“I don’t know that Cas actually knows what’s happening.”

Cas pulls the sweater away from him as if that’s going to help him understand it better. A small laugh breaks out of everyone when he looks at Dean and cocks his head. 

“What’s happening?”

Dean just shakes his head at him and Cas gives him one of his small smiles. Dean goes to sit next to Cas and puts his arm around him, holding him close. 

“Are you guys, like…”

Sam trails off. 

Bobby speaks up. 

“Everyone in this family is gay except for me. You can say the word, ya idjit.”

“And you’re their…father?”

Bobby starts to shake his head but Dean speaks up. His quiet but firm, “yes” is heard and if Bobby’s eyes mist up a little, no one mentions it. 

“How long have you been here?” Michael directs at Balthazar who looks pained and Dean doesn’t like it. 

“We’ll ask the questions, ok?” His tone makes it clear that if they don’t like it, they can walk. 

Michael nods, mutely and Sam just stares before speaking. 

“We…we come in peace ok? My brother just offered to bring me here so that I could see you guys. He knows I’ve wanted a family for…well, my whole life. I’ve dreamed of spending the holidays, or, hell, any day with my siblings and when he offered it to me for Christmas, I jumped at the chance. I’m aware we’re intruding but forgive me if I care more about simply being in their presence than making sure they’re not uncomfortable. We’ve never had any issues…I mean, how could they, every one left me when I was young, so I was hoping we’d be welcome.”

And just like that he wins Dean over. Not only is he defending his brother but he’s tugging at all of Dean’s strings with his talk about wanting a family. That’s what Dean had wanted too. 

“I understand.” He says, softer than intended. 

Heads turn to him. He’s usually significantly more brusque but in this moment he can’t do that. This is a young kid that just wants a family and Dean’ll be damned before he steps in the way of that. 

“All I ask and hope is that your intentions are pure. Cas means the world to me. He took who I was and who I was becoming and made it better. He made me better. He made me go from being drunk off cheap liquor to being drunk off love. Don’t get me wrong, we still get tipsy from time to time but now it’s together and instead of me going home with faceless, nameless people, it’s me with him, sitting on our balcony, looking up at the stars and talking about them. He took me from coming home to an empty apartment to coming home and yelling out ‘I’m home’ just because I can. Just because I know someone is there who is going to respond.”

It’s at this point that Dean notices that everyone is staring at him, including Cas and he starts feeling a deep blush cover his features. He feels it from the back of his neck to the tips of his ears. 

“Thank you, Dean. I enjoy all that with you as well.” 

Dean huffs out a laugh at the pleased quiet tone Cas uses and covers up his embarrassment by leaning in and pressing a kiss to Cas’s temple. 

“Well, if that’s the case, I’m certainly glad he has you.” Michael says, turning a somewhat questioning glance towards Sam and Gabriel. Sam and Gabriel are infinitely more touchy-feeling than Dean felt comfortable being. He was struck suddenly by the thought that perhaps Cas wanted to be more like them but didn’t feel free to do so because Dean wasn’t like that. 

He didn’t like the idea of Cas wanting something and not being comfortable with asking him so he vowed to bring that up in conversation the next time they had a moment alone. 

“I’m with Gabriel. And I’m definitely glad to have him. He’s my One.” Sam said motioning to Gabriel, who’d unashamedly taken up residence on his lap, one arm looped around Sam’s neck. He turned red at Sam’s words and it was a sentiment Dean definitely understood. He’d’ve died if Cas said that about him. He bit his lip to hold back a snicker. 

“How long have you guys all been couples?” Michael asked. 

At that, Dean let out a laugh. “Omg, you’re totally big brother-ing us.” 

“He’s what?” 

“Big brother. I just realized he’s the actual oldest. He’s giving us the 3rd degree on y’alls behalf.” Dean exclaimed. 

Dean turned to Michael. “You’re alright, man.” It made sense to him anyway. If the guy cared enough to subtly be trying to care over his brothers he must be just fine. 

“Not really.” Gabriel said. Clipped and short. 

“I’m the one who acted like a big brother. Michael just chose to turn the other way, right Mickey?” Gabriel said, his mocking tone giving way to his insolence. 

Samandriel cut in again. 

“You did too. You left me. I was alone all of my childhood because Michael was too old, Balthazar was too gone, Lucifer too evil, Raphael too much of a sycophant, Dad left, Mom died. I was the youngest and what should have been a damn good life with so many older brothers was the most lonely one in existence because I was “too” something for everyone. Too young, too nice, too, too, too. You know what it all adds up to? How I see it in my eyes? That I was too much of a fucking inconvenience. I wasn’t worth enough for anyone to want to look after. So young and left to my own devices because I was too young to join anyone. Do you even see the irony?” 

Dean looks around and all of the brother’s faces are full of guilt. He know’s Samandriel has hit a nerve and unconsciously his head tilts to the side as he tries to figure out how it was that that even happened. He would never have left Sam. Never. He was the older brother and the responsible one. Is Michael to blame here? Is Cas even right? Was it Gabriel who was supposed to make the decision of whom they were taking? For all points and purposes Gabriel is actually the four born…did he fuck it up because he was trying to play the role of the eldest brother? Dean doesn’t understand the psychology behind it and it’s sorta making his head hurt so he forgets about it and brings his attention back to the present. 

“How are you both here today, then?” Cas is asking. 

Samandriel points his thumb Michael’s way. 

“I’m 21. Black Friday fell on my birthday this year. I went out to celebrate it by myself when Michael showed up. I’ve never asked him why he did, I don’t know what made him change his mind but whatever the case, I was at the bar, drinking my way through their different IPA’s (Dean shudders and holds his beer closer to his chest) when he came and ordered a drink. He offered me friendship and I accepted. Since then I think we’ve become brother’s.”

Gabriel and Balthazar stare. They know what it means to be Michael’s brother and it’s something they haven’t had in a long time. Cas just glances between them. He doesn’t know what it means. 

“Right.” Gabriel finally scoffs. 

Dean chances a glance at Michael but he’s just sitting there, taking small sips of his drink (that Ellen must at some point have passed out without Dean noticing. Not that he’s surprised. Ellen is stealthy like that.) Michael isn’t trying to defend himself. 

Samandriel is the one that once again responds. 

“I’m serious. The day that he invited me to come out here, telling me he’s been keeping tabs on y’all, we were stringing up lights.”

That draws out a cacophony of sounds from the brothers, all indignant because of their invasion of privacy. Finally Dean whistles loudly through his fingers. He points at Balthazar and rolls his eyes. “Didn’t you do the same thing?” 

“Well, yeah, but-“

“No buts.” Dean says, shaking his head. 

“What’s good for the geese is good for the gander.”

He turns to Cas to cut him off but he’s too late. Cas is already looking at him, brow furrowed. Dean’s about to stop him but somehow he catches the look on Michael’s face and it stops him instead. On Michael’s face is a look of recognition. Like he remembers this look on Castiel and Dean decides to let it play out. 

“Dean, there are no geese here.”

Samandriel isn’t familiar with Castiel and he barks out a peel of laughter, an incredulous look on his face. 

“Is he for real?” He asks no one in particular. 

His laughing stops short when Cas turns his baby blues on him, freezing him on the spot. 

 “Yes, I am ‘for real’’. Cas says, bringing out the air quotes. 

“Angel, I’ll explain later, ok?” Dean says, placating Cas who brings his arms back down with a nod, giving Samandriel his squintiest look. 

Dean wants to laugh but bites his lip instead before glancing at Gabriel for some help. He’s pretty sure that if he opens his mouth right now, he’ll just laugh at the absurdity of it all. 

________

Gabriel catches the look Dean casts his way and knows that’s his cue but he can’t make himself open his mouth. Memories are just bombarding him. Childhood memories and Gabriel’s never been good at those. Over the cacophony of noise in his head, like background music, running through his head is a stanza of a poem that Gabriel learned so long ago. 

He’d been in school at the time and not knowing which direction to turn anymore, because he was slowly discovering his older brother, his favorite (at the time) brother was actually everything people accused him of being, Gabriel had decided to take a philosophy class. To this day, he doesn’t understand why he thought that would help. 

In that class, they’d covered a poem and although he doesn’t have the whole thing memorized, there’s a piece that’s never escaped his mind. 

“and all I loved, I loved alone”

And

“From the lightning in the sky

As it pass’d me flying by,- 

From the thunder and the storm, 

And the cloud that took form

(When the rest of Heaven was blue)

Of a demon in my view”

Gabriel doesn’t know, doesn’t know, doesn’t know, why these pieces have stayed. He doesn’t know why they play and replay in his mind when his own demons come out to play and in that moment he feels close to tears. He thought he was over this. Over his family. It had been a hard won battle to close the door on them but now here they all are. 

Without him noticing, he’s wiping tears off his face as he feels the walls close in. Lucifer and Raphael are back. And they’re going to kill him. Kill all of them. Without remorse and he worked so hard to keep Cas safe and it’s all going to have been for naught. 

Balthazar just came back and Gabriel’s not even going to be able to keep him. 

Michael and Samandriel are here and he doesn’t know what to think of them yet. 

All the people he worked so hard to keep him and Cas hidden from have found him and he can’t- he can’t- he can’t.

He just can’t. 

Defeat enters his being and he hunches into himself. He’s lost. He played the game and in the end, and he has no doubt that this is the end, he lost. 

_________

Sam is terrified. 

Dean looks nervous. 

Michael looks scared. 

Samandriel doesn’t know how to feel. He wonders if this is an indication of how much his brother doesn’t want him here. Maybe this was a mistake. 

___________

But Cas. 

Cas is remembering something he’d long forgotten. 

Cas is remembering hearing his brother cry at night, when he thought Cas was asleep. 

He’d forgotten those long ago vows he made to himself to always make his brother proud- to show him that nothing he’d done for them, for him had been in vain. 

It’s then that Cas has the answer for Dean. 

“I know, Dean.”

Dean turns to stare at him. He doesn’t understand. 

“Dean. I know.”

“Know what, Cas?” 

“Why Sam and I trust you and Gabriel so much.”

At Dean’s perplexed look, Cas continues, but gets off his seat and heads toward his brother, his older brother, his father figure, the only one in his family worth remembering. 

“It’s because, we might not remember it day to day, we might not think about it day to day but we know. We witnessed what it cost you to raise us, we heard the quiet tears, we saw the fear on your face when problems rose, we saw you not eat so that we could, heard the lies you told us time and time again about having eaten previously. We saw you both lose the weight so that we wouldn’t. We saw you in old clothes so we could wear new ones. Saw you scrimp and save so that we’d have a roof over our heads and everything we needed to make it. We saw you, Dean. We saw as you put your own lives aside to raise us. We saw you love us in a way we weren’t aware of existed. We saw it all and our subconscious knows. If we made it though that, we can make it through anything. Nothing can separate us.”

“And you, my dear brother.” He’s whispering now, in front of a catatonic Gabriel, “you need to remember that I, too, will never leave you. Come hell or high water, we’re in this together.”

Cas helps the only way he can, bumping his older brother’s fist over and over, a silent promise that he gets it. That he knows. That he believes. 

“I used to be little and you protected me brother but now, I stand on my own two feet. And we protect each other. You don’t have to fight battles alone anymore because I’m right here. I’ll fight with you every step of the way. Gabriel, Gabriel, Gabriel.” Cas is slowly chanting as his brother stops rocking. Gabriel’s eyes aren’t clear yet but Cas is sure he’s at least listening now. 

“I’m here. I’m here. I’ll stand with you, brother. I’ll fight with you, I’ll fight for you. Over and over and over.”

“I will too, Gabriel.” Sam whispers and at that Gabriel’s eyes flick over to him and Cas feels tears tumbling over his eyes. He doesn’t always feel things right, doesn’t always understand things right, and most of the time he doesn’t know whether he’s expressing the right emotion but this feels right. 

He kneels and opens his arms to his brother. 

Slowly, Gabriel disentangles his limbs and slides off Sam’s lap and comes to hug Castiel. They hold on tight to each other, life long ties holding them together. 

It takes a minute but then Balthazar is behind Gabriel and he’s also holding on for dear life. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He also cries. He cries for himself, for his brothers and for his mom. He cries for the life he had, the life he lost and he life he never got to know. He cries for moments missed and memories never made. He cries for forgiveness and for second chances and jokes made between brothers. He cries for secrets that will be told, sordid and dirty tales that have to come to light and that he’s long since repressed but somehow now he knows he can talk and heal. He cries for healing. Because now he’s with his family and he can finally finally live. 

Michael and Samandriel don’t join them. It’s too soon. They’re too new. They don’t know their brothers well enough yet- but they will. Everything will be ok because life is always ok. Michael knows that. Michael who has secretly been taking anti-depressants for most of his life suddenly feels like he no longer needs them. He feels like the weight that he’s carried on his back for the entirety of his life has been lifted. 

He almost laughs because time and time again he attempted to explain the ball he felt in his chest to therapists, counselors, psychologists, psychiatrists and more and none of them understood what he was talking about. None of them ever realized that what he was feeling was loss. That if he walked around with a dark black pit in his stomach it was because he missed his brothers. 

But he understood it now. And he didn’t need medication that never worked anyway because he knew how to fix it now. Life is hard but just because you’re born into a certain family, just because it looks like your life can only head in one direction, doesn’t make it true. He could choose to change their path. The battle to a better life, a healthier one, a happier one may be long, may be hard fought but it’s a battle he believes he’ll win. 

So no, he doesn’t join them. He hasn’t earned to the right to yet but he will. Gabriel took his mantle but he’ll take it back. His kid brother’s will feel like kid brother’s if it’s the last thing he ever does. 

He slips his arm around Samandriel and pulls him towards him. 

Kissing his temple, he closes his eyes and pulls up his big brother pants, because that’s what he is. He’s not their friend. He’s not their acquaintance. He’s their brother. He’s their older brother. It’s time he started acting like it. 

He kisses Sam’s temple.

“I love you, little brother.”

He finally says the words and to young Samandriel, it’s everything and for the first time in his life, his heart fills full.

Chapter Text

Dean jumps when he feels an arm go around his neck. It’s Sam. 

“I love you, Dee.”

Dean doesn’t do chick-flick moments but he isn’t an idiot. He’s smart. It’s time he started to act it too. 

“I love you too, Sammy. Always and forever.”

And when a tear runs down his little brother’s eye, Dean raises a hand to it, uses his finger to wipe it away, just as he’d done when he was little. 

He’s two inches shorter than Sam but somehow his brother finds a way to curl into him and Dean just holds on. There’s nothing that he wouldn’t do for Sam. Nothing. This was his little brother. Dean loves him more than anything in the world. 

A couple of moments later has Dean slowly releasing Sam. Slowly, he walks to where the three brothers are huddled together. 

“Gabriel.”

His voice is thick and it makes sense. He feels like he just swallowed a frog. 

Gabriel looks at him, eyes wrung out. Looking more defeated than Dean has ever seen him. Dean doesn’t like it. 

It’s not often that he sings but he thinks of a song, one that he’d sometimes have on repeat, one that used to basically be his mantra, his words to get by when life got too hard. When he thought that maybe he was stupid for even trying to do better, to be better. When the fear that he was inevitably going to let Sammy down got to be too much.

He opens his mouth

You’ll be ok.

You’ll be ok. 

The sun will rise, to better days. 

And change will come

It’s on its way

Just close your eyes

And let it rain

Cause you’re never alone

And we will always be there

You just carry on

You’ll understand

You’ll be ok

You’ll be ok

Just look inside

You know the way

Let it go

Fly away

And say goodbye

To yesterday

Cause you’re never alone

And we’ll always be there

You just carry on

you will understand

And we will be strong

When love is gone

And we’ll carry on

You’ll be ok

You’ll be ok

The sun will rise

To better days

You’ll be ok

You’ll be ok

Just close your eyes

And let it rain

When he’s done, he opens his eyes and reaches down to pull Gabriel out. Gabriel places his hand in Dean’s and when he’s standing in front of him, Dean looks him in the eye. 

“You and me, buddy. We’ve beat so much worse than this. And whatever is left to come, we’ll beat that too. You know why?” Dean doesn’t wait for him to answer, just keeps talking, “Because now we’re not alone. We have all of them. Look, Gabe. Just look.” Dean steps back and motions to everyone who is there. 

Everyone is nodding and Bobby raises his fist in solidarity. 

“He’s not wrong.” He says. 

“This feels like the calm before the storm.” Gabriel finally says. 

“Let it come. Let it roar. When it does, we’ll show it who’s boss, knock it down a peg or two. And then it’ll be over.” Dean responds. 

Gabriel finally nods, some of the fight seemingly come back to him as he straightens his shoulders. Sam, watches with a smile on his face, as Gabriel does a clap.

“Alright then, lets get this party going.”

The mood is somewhat subdued in the beginning, no one exactly sure of how to proceed in front of the two additions. Finally, Balthazar sighs loudly and turns to them. 

“How long are you chaps planning on staying?”

Michael answers. “Not too long. Like he said, we don’t want to intrude. We just wanted to come say hi. We have some gifts though, for Gabriel and Castiel. We apologize, we just didn’t know you were here,” he finishes, apologetically. 

“Cas.” Cas says. “My name is Cas.”

“Or Cassie.” Quips Gabriel. 

Cas rolls his eyes but bobs his head in acquiescence. “Or Cassie.” The dour tone in which he complies makes Dean laugh. 

“Just call him Cas.” He tells them, putting an arm around Cas and pulling him close. Then something dawns on him. 

“Oh! We’re getting married!” 

Amid congratulations and hugs all around, the mood lightens and the party continues with its festive cheer. 

It’s nearing midnight, when Sam happens to catch the time. 

“It’s almost time!” He says, excitedly. 

Dean smiles at him and Sam can’t help but smile back. When they were little, Sam couldn’t wait to open his gifts, spare as they were. Still, Dean started the tradition that the evening before, he’d let Sam open one gift. As they got older, the time that they partook in their one gift neared midnight and by the looks of it, it was about to be that time. 

Sam eagerly looked over the stack of presents under the tree. Sure, he was significantly older now but there was just something about being able to open a gift. 

“What’s all the hoopla about?” Asked Sam, looking around. 

“At midnight we all get to open one gift. No matter who it’s from.” Sam responds excitedly. He hasn’t decided how he feels about Michael and Samandriel. And it scared the ever loving shit out of him earlier to see Gabe in such a state but if there’s one thing he understands, it’s family. 

Family fucks up. Fucks up time and time again. Someone says the wrong thing or speaks out of turn, opens their mouth when they should leave it closed, does something that strikes another the wrong way, whether intentional or not and feelings get hurt. But if Bobby and Dean taught him anything it’s that family, whether by blood or by choice, sticks together. Through thick and thin because when push comes to shove, those are the only people you have that will always be there. Like Michael, Samandriel, and Balthazar, there may be moments when they’re not in your life at all, but family comes back. It always comes back. 

So right now, Sam is pushing the uncertainty away. Right now he’s just relishing being amongst nothing but family. He’s relishing Jo standing just slightly too close to Samandriel, he’s relishing the way Cas is tucked into Dean, in his traditional Christmas time colorful pants. He’s relishing the way Ellen and Bobby move around one another, like they were made to be together. And most of all he’s relishing his own little slice of heaven. There’s no one like Gabriel. And there never would be. 

Love was funny that way. Sam wasn’t sure whether it (love) was a game of chance or simply started that way, all he knows is that in the end all it took was one moment. One moment in which one second he’d been fine without Gabriel in his life and in the next he had no idea how he’d been breathing, let alone surviving without him. The best way Sam could think of describing it was like going through life asleep. You’re asleep and then you wake up. And then you’re happy for the rest of your life. 

Sam didn’t know happy until he got Gabriel. Now Gabriel’s close enough for him to touch, close enough to kiss, and Sam knows it can’t be a coincidence. He glances at Gabriel from where he stands and damn if he doesn’t look pretty. His smile lights Sam up from the inside and the more Sam thinks about it the more he’s certain that love is the idea of something. Something pure, something that makes him whole, something that makes him warm. 

And to think that it all started with a pick up line. 

“Ya ready, Sammy?” Sam jumps at Dean’s hand clapping him on the shoulder. Dean follows his eyes and smirks at him. “You just gonna stand there and daydream, princess?”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Shaddup, jerk. Like you don’t do the same thing.”

Dean turns red and seriously Sam will never understand his brother’s propensity to blush, before stepping away and scowling at Sam, growling, “bitch” underneath his breath. 

Sam laughs and turns back to the tree. 

Hmmm, what to pick, what to pick….

He picks the biggest one because that’s what he did when he was small and although he’s deviated from that particular practice ( I’m not five anymore, Dean) tonight seems like a good night to do it again. He sees his brother smile out of the corner of his eye and it warms him. He can’t believe that all it takes is for him to do something minuscule like this- simply allowing himself to act six years old and it seems to make Dean happier than he’ll be with the Rock-Ola M1 Carbine that Sam had gotten him for Christmas. The antique WWII relic had set Sam back a pretty penny but since coming to his senses about how important family was, Sam had set out to get his family something real. Something from the heart. Something that was one of a kind. He thinks Dean would have been plenty happy with the Chuck Liddell UFC tickets he’d gotten him but after Dean and Cas’s little talk in the hospital, it simply hadn’t felt like enough. And this old gun- Sam hadn’t ever bought anything like it for his brother. He normally rolled his eyes when gun shop talk emerged and this was him showing Dean he loved and appreciated him as he came and didn’t want him to change a thing. He desperately hoped that the message of acceptance, love, and mutual loyalty came through clearly. 

Suddenly he’s hit with the urge to ensure that Dean understands it that very evening and instead of letting him pick out his own gift to uncover, Sam roots around until he finds the M1 and pulls it out and hands it to his brother. 

“You forgetting the rules of the game, Sammy?” Dean asks inquisitively. 

“Take this one, Dean. Please.”

His brother stares at him but nods and is about to turn and have Cas only to be interrupted by the sound of his brother and he turns around again to find him once again bent down a picking up a small box that he turns to hand to Gabriel. 

“Sammy?” He asks. 

When Sam turns to look at him he sees something close to terror and almost desperation fill his brother’s gaze and Dean straightens as it dawns on him that his brother is close to unraveling. All this Lucifer shit must finally be getting to him. It doesn’t escape his notice that the gifts he’s looking for are all the ones from him. He’s trying to get them to his family in case he can’t the next day. Like hell. While Dean’s alive the only thing Sam will ever die from will be old age. No ifs, ands, or buts. 

Sam’s panicking. Thinking about Dean unloosened something on the inside and now he’s freaking out thinking about himself chopped up, of his family harmed because of him, and his vision is narrowing and darkening around the edges, his breath coming in too fast but too short and he can’t breathe, it’s not reaching his lungs, his heart is racing, he’s getting sweaty, he’s simultaneously too cold and too hot and now he has goosebumps and the tears that had only been gathered in his eyes start rolling down his face.

And then as quickly as it started, it ends. He comes back to and he’s sitting on Dean’s lap, like a little kid. Dean’s carding his hands through his hair and singing to him. Sam just lets himself sit like that as he listens to the words- it’s been a long long time since he heard it. The “song” wasn’t even really a song. They were words from a book but Dean had taken them and turned them into a song and he sung it every time Sam had a panic attack just like he’d had right then. 

I’ll love you forever

I’ll like you for always

As long as I’m living

My baby you’ll be  

It was super small, as far as songs went but Dean would just repeat it and the words used to soothe Sam because it made him feel less alone. John might have left them alone always but with Dean and in Dean he’d always had a father- someone who loved him unconditionally, someone who took care of him, provided for him, put him first, made sure he grew up big and strong and had never once thrown all that back in Sam’s face. Sam didn’t think his brother was even capable of thinking such a thing. 

Sam sniffles and curls further into Dean, putting his arms in the middle so that he can hunch his shoulders further in. He’s safe. Protected. As long as he has Dean there’s literally nothing that can get to him. Not a damn thing. Lucifer and his henchmen and any other baddies that come out of the woodwork, Sam’s not afraid- Dean won’t let any of them come for him. Ever. 

That has him straightening his shoulders somewhat and Dean stops swaying. 

“You remembering who you are, Sammy?”

Sam used to say yes because Dean always has and probably always will built him up. Told him that he was smarter than anyone else out there and Sam believed him- that’s probably the real reason Sam had made it as far as he had- but he’s a psych minor, he’s seeing through those eyes right now and so when he responds it’s clear and succinct.

He shakes his head. 

“No, Dean. I’m remembering who you are.” 

He feels Dean slightly stiffen and Sam wonders why he’d never noticed how truly low his brother’s self-esteem was. Christ, he’s an idiot. It’s time to rectify that. 

Dean won’t let him do if they were to both stand so Sam takes advantage of his position and stays right where he is. 

“You won’t let anyone get me, right Dee?”

“Never”, comes Dean’s gruff answer. 

“And when we were little, you didn’t let anyone get me then either, huh? Not even John?”

Dean is quiet but Sam doesn’t care because he knows they both know the truth.

“You are everything an older brother, hell, you’re everything a kid could ever want in a dad. You’re the reason I made it, Dean. I owe you every single thing I’m ever able to accomplish; everything I’m ever able to be. Every single bad guy I ever get and put away- it’ll all be because of you, you realize that, right? I wanted you to have your gift first, my favorite gift from me to you because I want you to understand that no matter how different we are, you will forever hold a place deep in here- he brings his hand up to tap his brother’s heart- that no one will ever fill or replace. I love you just as you are because you’re everything a human should be. I’m sorry it’s taken this for me to realize that. You’re so incredibly special, Dean. And someday, when I grow up, I hope I can be just like you. I love you Dean. For ever and for always.”

It’s quiet for another beat, then- “Sam?”

“Mm?”

“I can’t feel my legs anymore.”

Sam can hear Cas’s quiet huff of laughter and he feels his own laughter rumble in his chest. 

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.” But Dean wraps his arms around Sam and hugs him tight and Sam knows Dean heard him. He smiles and makes to move away. 

“Damn. This hurts. I’m too old for this shit.”

“How do you think I feel? You’re fucking heavy as shit. Clearly I overfed you.” Dean laughs. 

Sam is finally about to get off and he’s sure he looks a bloody mess but he still chances a look at Gabriel, wondering if maybe he’s scared him off but Gabriel is staring at him with a happy smile. 

“I love you.” He blurts out. 

“Yeah, yeah, we all love each other.” Dean mutters, rolling his eyes and extending a hand to Sam who finally made it up. “Help me up, dammit, I’m in pain here.”

“Come on then, old man.” Sam laughs reaching down to pull his brother up. 

“Oof, you’ve gotten heavier, I think.”

“Watch yourself.” Dean side-eyes him. 

Sam grins before handing him his gift again. 

“Seriously though, I want you to open this one.”

Sam had forgotten about everyone else that was there until Ellen peeks her head around the corner. 

“Everything ok in here?” She asks, looking at Sam and Dean. 

“Everything is copacetic.” Dean responds, ignoring his brother’s surprised look and Cas’s small smirk. 

“Alright then, we’re coming back in.”

As his family files back into the room, obviously having left to give Sam and Dean some privacy, barring Cas and Gabriel, Sam feels light, he feels full of light, love, and happiness. He’s never understood why Thomas Jefferson felt inclined to include “the pursuit of happiness” as something every person should be able to have when drafting the Declaration of Independence but he understands it now. It’s good to accomplish your life goals, it’s good to be successful and have money and a retirement and vacation paid time off but what’s even better is to have people like Dean, Bobby, Gabriel, Cas, Ellen, and Jo backing your every move, your every play. It’s better to have people that regardless of what you have or don’t have will be with you every step of the way. It’s better to pursue happiness in people that you love and that love you back because in the end they’re what he’ll have, what will keep him warm. He’s damn happy that it didn’t take him any longer to figure it out. 

He’s damn happy to have Gabriel. He walks over to him. 

“You know no one has ever gotten my soul right like you do, right?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, just continues. “When I look back at my life without you it seems so shrouded in darkness. I had Dean and Cas and everyone but you’re something so exquisitely special. You bring a light into it and I’m damn happy that you exist. I love you, Gabriel. I’m never letting go and I hope you don’t either.”

“Now,” he goes back to find his most treasured gift for Gabriel and then returns, “I need you to take these, open them and love them because I bought them in November and I have been absolutely dying for you to see them. So, please.” He shoves his gift into Gabriel’s hands. 

All around them, people are reaching in to partake in their tradition with them but Sam still only has eyes for Gabriel, who’s holding his gift but is staring wide eyed at Sam. 

“Since November?” He finally asks. 

“Remember the day I met Milo?” Gabriel makes a small grimace but nods. “Yeah, well, apparently I didn’t know I had already made plans to hang out with you until our dinner that evening. When I was an asshole and you told me bye I realized I didn’t have anything else to do so I made my way to the mall to buy you something. I really hope you like them. I feel like they were made for you in mind.”

Ten minutes later has everyone tearing into their one gift. Dean whoops as he opens the black leather case the M1 comes in. Of course Dean knows what it is. Sam can’t help but laugh at his brother’s antics. Dean’s giddiness is contagious and all around the room laughter is heard and gifts continue to be unwrapped. Even Michael and Samandriel are happy with the gifts Dean had for them. Samandriel had exclaimed happily at the sturdy phone holder, saying that it was going to go well with his new truck. Michael had said his Bentley was fully equipped, thank you very much but that he was definitely appreciative of earmuffs that wouldn’t muss up his hair. 

“Don’t you still live in Cali?” Gabriel had asked pointedly. 

“Yes, but we’re still in Kansas right now, little brother and it’s fucking cold here.” Michael had retorted and everyone laughed. Sam didn’t miss the look of happiness on Gabriel’s face at being called little brother. Taking careful care of Gabriel’s leg, Sam pulls him onto his lap. 

“You still haven’t opened yours.” He says, tapping on the box still in Gabriel’s hands. 

“I’m a little scared.” Gabriel confesses. 

“Of what?” 

“I don’t know. You didn’t particularly like me in November.”

Sam snorts and shakes his head. “I think I liked you a lot more than I understood at the time, Gabe. Come on, baby. Open them. You’ll like them, I promise.”

Gabriel searches his eyes and Sam keeps them wide and sincere. He has the thought that maybe Gabriel thought maybe Sam had gotten him something that was a cruel joke or something. Sam sorta understood. He had been an asshole in November. 

Slowly Gabriel starts taking off the bow and Sam decides to explain their trajectory in more detail. 

“The day I got them is the only time I’ve spent three hours at a mall going from store to store trying to find them when I wasn’t even sure what it was that I was looking for. Right after I found and bought them, I met Kevin, he’s basically my stylist now, he works at Dillard’s and he dressed me that night and has for many more occasions now. But those, those were the first things I went after the night my apartment was set on fire. Since then I’ve carried them everywhere with me. I had them professionally wrapped when I bought them so that’s why they look a little beat up now. I supposed I could have gotten them re-wrapped but it didn’t feel right. I wanted you to know their origins, wanted you to know their story.” 

Gabriel is almost done removing the paper now so Sam speaks a little faster. 

“The first time we really talked you told me about Scent From Heaven and Heaven Sent and about an archangel and then I met Milo and he was dressed so nicely that I envisioned you dressed just as nice and it was my head canon that you’d probably had something like this. And then I realized that it was all a figment of my imagination but I wanted it to be a reality and more so, even if I didn’t understand it at the time, I wanted it to be a reality with me. So, Gabriel, will you please go out on a date with me somewhere really fancy where you have to wear these and the shirt I bought you to go with it so that you can make my dream come true?” 

Sam finishes just as Gabriel opens the box. The look on his face is one Sam will never forget. It’s a look of wonder, love, and most importantly of all, trust. It’s all written right there on his face and Sam vows to make sure he never ever loses that. He smiles and taps Gabriel on the nose. 

“Mine.”

Chapter Text

• Per the FBI, in order for a killer to be considered a serial killer he or she must commit at least 3 murders over a time period of at least three years at three different locations with an emotional cooling off period in between.
• According to pyschologytoday.com, most serial killers have antisocial personality disorder. This particular mental illness if mostly formed by nurture factors (mainly environmental but can also be genetic). Some symptoms of this disorder include understanding but disregarding right and wrong, sense of superiority, criminal, sometimes violent behaviour, and last but not least,  perpetuating abuse against others.}

Emily Dickinson once described killers as “sadistic monsters who trespass the forbidden boundary between fiction, fantasy and reality.”

Thirty-seven years ago-

It was always such an exhilaration to get them in broad day light. Especially when, just like now, there wouldn’t be a single witness. What luck. The thrill that shot through him was so visceral, so fervent that it left goosebumps in its wake. 

“Hi there.” He smiled toothily as the man, eyes quickly roaming over his lithe body. Would have been nice to fuck him but, alas, duty called and he wasn’t here for him, he was here for them. 

“Hi. Can I help you?” The man paused, mid bend, his pants snuggly cradling his arse. And what an arse it was. Shapely, so much so that he could easily picture the man atop his cock, reverse cowgirl position because he did so love watching mounds of pale flesh slam against his pelvis. 

He stilled his wayward thoughts when the knowledge that this could happen all while tears ran down his potential lovers face stirred his cock. What could he say? He enjoyed his men best when accompanied by salt- both brought forth from their pretty tears as they begged and pleaded and his cum when he spurted all over their buttocks, stomachs, faces in thick, hot ropes. He wondered how this man would taste after Carver (certainly appropriate moniker, he had to admit) spread his ass cheeks over his face and forced a rim job out of him. Mmm. Carver wasn’t usually a bottom but he couldn’t deny the pleasure it brought him to have his rim played with, having slight pressure applied to it, tongued, tugged, laved by a thick tongue, something probably left over from when he used to have his dog lick his cock head. He almost laughed. Small amount of peanut butter had the dog ultimately licking the cum off his dick. Subsequently, he enjoyed the feel of thick and coarse tongues. 

“Sir?” The query broke Carver out of his trance and he shook his head, not even bothering to hide his ever growing erection. He changed his mind. He was taking this one. Slowly, like a lion, he walked up to his prey who was still slightly hunched over, having been in the middle of putting bags in the trunk of his car. He’d caught sight of Carver’s hard-on and now there was some wariness on his face. Too bad it was too little too late. In two steps, Carver was in his personal space, pulling him up towards him, pressing his body next to him, letting him feel his cock, straining through his grey chinos. He felt the man gasp and stiffen, felt him try to push him away, try to struggle, but it wasn’t enough. All too quick, Carver bit his lip in a bruising kiss before bringing his hands up to the mans carotid. 

Six seconds later had the man’s head lolling on Carvers neck and he placed him gently in the trunk, along with the rest of the bags. Taking a quick look around he saw a couple coming his way but from the impervious looks on their faces, he could tell they hadn’t seen a thing. He shifted to the front seat, opening and closing the door quickly. At the first sound of protest from the one the passenger seat he backhanded her and as soon as she slumped over he took out the aerosol can and sprayed the two in the back seat, being careful not to breath in the gas himself. 

Pulling out of the parking lot quickly, his heart rate slowed as he began driving to his destination, a slow smile growing on his face.

He was going to have so much fun.

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Tonight on 20/20, we are discussing the sadistic serial killer, who much like Jack the Ripper has never been caught. Murders matching their MO haven’t been seen in over two decades. We wonder, are they dead? Alive? Just quiet? We take a look at the most high profile murders that were committed by them. You know them as the Ruthless Killer, a name that even now makes my skin breaks out in goosebumps, I’m Barbara Walters and this is 20/20

 ______________________

Two days later finds Balthazar sitting in the middle of Dean and Cas’s apartment with his brothers along with Sam and Dean. He’d talked to Cas and Gabriel and told them that he had something very important to talk to them about and he wanted their opinion on whether he should include Michael and Sam. It had been a unanimous yes from both parties and so here they were. 

Try as he might, Balthazar still had trouble believing that Michael, his brother Michael was actually there and because of that had spent a significant amount of time with his current therapist on multiple very long distance phone calls. His bill was going to be exorbitant. But hey, it could be worse, he could be passed out somewhere, drunk as a skunk. 

He just doesn’t understand why it was so easy to accept Gabriel and Cassie and by extension Sam and Dean as family and why it was so difficult to accept Michael and Samandriel. Was it because he’d come to them whereas Michael had sought them out? Was it a trust issue he was having? If it was that, well, he didn’t get that either. He wasn’t getting any sneaky or untrustworthy vibes from either of them but he didn’t particularly trust himself to be a good judge of character either. After all, he thought his dad had loved him until he was unceremoniously cut off without so much as a text message. But then again, he was back to square one. Where did that theory leave Cas and Gabe? He sighed inwardly even as he adjusted his vest. 

“Dude, don’t you ever wear jeans?” Dean asked, interrupting his thoughts. Balthazar was infinitely grateful for it even as he scrunched his nose at Dean and said, primly, “I’m a gentleman. I will dress like a gentleman. We can’t all walk around like we personally own the majority stock of flannel.” 

Dean laughed and flipped him off. “Fine, be uncomfortable then. It’s your funeral.”

Balthazar sniffed delicately at him before turning back towards his brothers who were looking at him expectantly. He let his gaze roam over them, taking them in, taking mental pictures on auto pilot like he’d never see them again. Michael sat on the loveseat next to Samandriel, one with blue eyes, one gray like his own. Michael wore blue casual pants with rolled up cuffs, a cashmere shortsleeved tan sweater and brown loafers without socks. Or if he wore socks they were definitely the no show kind. His tan ankles and bottoms of his legs peeked out from where the cuffed pant legs rose up as he sat to where his shoe began. He wore no jewelry beside a brown and gold Rolex that sat on his left wrist. Samandriel sat next to him looking significantly more at ease. He wore slim fit, tapered slightly brown washed jeans with a thin blue sweater that hit perfectly on his slim body. His shoes were not loafers, they were more like short boots; a shade darker than Michael’s shoes and he too wore no-show socks. On his left wrist sat a Tag Heuer watch, the band was the same blue of his sweater and it had a thin stripe of orange that went through it that paired nicely with the brown he’d subtly inserted into his outfit. He’d forgone shaving the past couple of days and the stubble looked good on him. 

On the long couch sat the two couples. Gabriel, as per usual, was mostly perched atop Sam. He was definitely the most casual dresser of them all. Definitely a nice outfit-just resembled gym wear more than anything else. Curious, considering that Balthazar didn’t think Gabriel ever visited the gym. He wore Under Armour pants that were ruched at the ankle. His sneakers were also Under Armour, but his sweatshirt was something Balthazar recognized from the Dwayne Johnson clothing line. It was purple. He wore gold Beats by Dre around his neck and they brought out the gold of his eyes and hair. 

Sam sat next/underneath him wearing a pair of classic blue skinny jeans, also cuffed at the bottom, a pair of what looked like casual wear white Adidas on his feet, and a green shirt that while being a button up was made of incredibly soft and malleable material. It hung very nicely off Sam’s broad shoulders. He wasn’t wearing wearing a watch but he was wearing a gold chain around his neck. Next to Sam sat Dean. All chiseled perfection, bow-string lips, a smattering of freckles and sun kissed skin. Even sitting down his bow legs were evidenced. He wore a red rust henley, rustic slim fit jeans and a pair of distressed boots. His pants weren’t cuffed and he wore a thick brown watch on his wrist along with a bracelet. Finally, there was Castiel- Cassie- Cas. 

The most different of all his brothers, Cassie worked in a world of his own construct. He didn’t understand a lot of euphemisms or pop culture, something Balthazar had thought maybe he’d long since grown out of but had been happy to find out he hadn’t. He marched to the beat of his own drum, preferring a world of peace, bees, honey and books to Dean’s world of mechanics, rock music, more weaponry than a damn Texan and Vonnegut. And yet, they worked so perfectly it made Balthazar’s heart constrict every time he watched them. They were what everyone could want in a relationship. One so rare that most people went their whole lives without it. Truly the best love story ever told. Cassie was wearing a white button down short sleeved shirt that had a bee print all over it. He wore it with black chinos and black boots. Around his neck was a black bow-tie and he wore no jewelry, not even a watch. He was beautiful in his simplicity. 

Balthazar looked down at his own outfit and couldn’t help but smile at how different they'd all come out. Perhaps he wasn't as casual as some of the others but he was comfortable for himself. He was sporting a blue checkered button down, sleeves rolled up and a tweed vest over it, his skinny tie making it one of step up from sloppy  (in his eyes anyway) to put together. He paired it with his favourite pair of fitted blue slacks that were tapered at the thigh and flared out slightly at the bottom. On his stocked feet were Oxfords, originals, of course, and he wore a woman's bracelet from Michael Kors. He had a habit of mixing gendered clothing- it suited him though and he liked the idea of breaking stereotypes. 

Anyway...

He hears a loud sigh from somewhere (probably Dean's impatient ass) and he looks up to see his siblings and partner's expectant faces. He raises his hand to scratch at his eyebrow...a nervous tic he picked up from somewhere. 

"Have I told you I had to be a prostitute in Amsterdam? To survive?" He doesn't wait on their response,  he can't remember who he's told and who he hasn't, and who was snooping on his life as he'd been on theirs. Either way, it's hardly of import so he continues- "I may have told you that but I haven't told you why. About six months in, Father unceremoniously turned off my cards. Never sent a text, never called, nothing. Just went to buy something one day and couldn't. I had only so much cash and when that ran out...well, it was then that Eve took me in. Where I'd been her equal, I became her slave boy. Her possession. Something to be sold, again and again, to the highest bidder. She never even knew that until that first day I was a- I was a virgin." He finishes softly, looking down at the floor while his face heats. He's used to telling people he used to be a prostitute, if only to shock old biddies but he normally has a certain level of emotional detachment from the word and what that had meant for him. He finds that here, amongst his family, he is unable to maintain the necessary levels of separation. He is feeling it. There's a lot of pain and shame there, even as his therapist has assured him that it wasn't his fault. 

The first time he had sex, it had been with him and he was an asshole of the highest caliber. They'd had sex countless times in one night because according to him, Balthazar needed to know all the ends and outs and possibilities. By the time they were done, Balthazar was dry orgasming and his dick was raw. He was grateful he couldn't actually see his arsehole. The next day all of his orifices ached, even his uvula was swollen due to the severe face-fucking he'd received and everything was sensitive to touch. It took him two days to recover with the added humiliation of having his hole checked regularly because "no one wants a dirty abused hole". The third day he was deemed sufficiently "healthy" and he was put to work. 

"Balthazar." It's Dean. He looks up, blue-grey eyes meeting vibrant green. 

"We are strong because being strong was our only choice." He knows Dean is quoting someone because it rings a bell. He doesn't remember who it is but it doesn't matter because it helps. He takes a cleansing breath and nods, taking a look at the various faces around the room. 

“Right. So, I guess, I’ll just cut right to the chase then. I’ve found Father.”

As expected there are gasps all around and Balthazar rushes on to explain. “Or rather, the private investigator I’ve had looking for him finally found him.”

“I thought he was dead.” Michael whispered.

“I’ve got you beat,” Samandriel cuts in attempt for levity, “I didn’t even think he was real.”

Dean lets out a snort and turns to Cas but cuts it short as he sees the stunned look on his face. He looks frozen. 

“Where is he?” Gabriel asks. 

“Wellington”, Balthazar answers without preamble. 

“Where the hell is that?” Gabriel asks. 

“New Zealand.” Dean replies, looking at Balthazar who confirms with a nod. 

“You think Lucifer and Raphael know?” Gabriel asks Balthazar. 

He shakes his head but shrugs his shoulders at the same time. “I haven’t a clue. My instinct is to say no, but I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

“I am inclined to say no as well.” Michael inserts, “It doesn’t seem like Lucifer would stay quiet on the subject if he knew.”

“True.”

“What could he possibly be doing it in New Zealand?” Cas finally whispers. 

The siblings shrug again but Gabriel notices Dean looks uncomfortable. 

“What is it Deano?”

He shakes his head. 

“What is it, Dean?” Cas asks, turning on his baby blues full force. 

Dean sighs and slumps. “I can tell you but you’re not going to like it. Then again, I could be wrong. It could be any number of reasons. Maybe he just liked the scenery.”

“Uh huh,” Samandriel says disbelivingly, “on the off chance he’s not there for the scenery, what else could it be?”

“I’ll tell you but if it starts to make sense, we should steer clear. It’s just…some stuff is starting to add up here.”

“Spit it out, Dean.” Someone says although Balthazar can’t be sure anymore, his head is getting a little fuzzy. Dean is on the cusp of something, he can feel it.

“New Zealand doesn’t have an extradition treaty with the United States. Is there some reason your dad wouldn’t want to be brought here?”

It gets so quiet Balthazar swears he can hear his neurons firing. 

Across from him, his brothers aren’t faring so well either. 

Michael is remembering how he used to gush about his first grade teacher to anyone who would listen. He begged his parents to go meet her at the parent/student meeting, just one time, he had begged. It had made his day when his dad had acquiesced. In the end his mother was unable to go but to Michael’s relief, his dad had still accompanied him. He’d introduced the two and then ran to where his cubbie was, eager to show his dad all his work, but when he’d turned around his dad wasn’t behind him. Confused, he’d made his way back and had seen his  teacher leaning away from his dad. Michael caught the end of, “beautiful emerald necklace”, had heard his teacher mutter something about it being a family heirloom before turning to look at him. Michael hadn’t know what it was then, but now, looking back the look in her eyes had been pure relief at his presence. 

“Dad,” he’d whined, “come on.” 

Less than a week a later, his teacher stopped showing up for work. When her absence was reported, police were sent to her home. No one ever found her, but six months later, at his parents anniversary party, it’s time for bed and the nanny guides Michael to his mom so he can give her a goodnight hug. The lights surrounding the expanse lawn and the pool reflect on something that catches his eye and when his mom sees she shows him her necklace. 

“It’s called an emerald, Michael. “Your dad said it was our new family heirloom.”

Michael is yanked out of his memory by the gasp he hears coming from Balthazar. Their eyes meet and the look there is certain and knowing. They turn to Gabriel only to find him shaking his head at them. “No. I refuse to think about it at all. If you continue this line of questioning, I’m out.” He moves to get up but Sam wraps his arm around his waist and Balthazar speaks up before he doesn’t get another opportunity to do so. 

“Gabriel. He left me alone in another country. I was raped over and over for money I never got to so much as see. I wasn’t even allowed a cell phone. I need to know if he knew. I need to know if he left me to that. I can’t. I can’t- I can’t just stick my head in the sand and hope that the bad just goes away because it never does. It just festers and gets spoiled like an open wound. But, Gabe, don’t be afraid. This is going to be terrifying but we’ve got each other. Can’t we be a family again? Can’t I stay? Can’t we lean on each other? Brother,-“ Balthazar’s voice breaks, “I’ve had enough of being alone. I’ve had alone of having to do everything myself. I’ve had enough of having no one to lean on, I miss my brothers. I need them, I need you guys. All of you. Please don’t let me have to do this alone. Please.”

Gabriel has tears streaming down his face and Sam’s rocking him, telling him that he’s “got this” and then Gabriel turns to them. “I just- I- there was this music store I used to love going to. Zoe’s. They gave free guitar lessons and obviously we didn’t need free lessons but you could leave donations and I always did. Dad found out about it and then one day-“ he takes a deep breath and continues, “one day the store has an announcement on the door, saying that there had been a death and that the store wouldn’t be reopening. Do you guys remember when dad showed up with a pierced ear? A black stud that he said was an onyx stone to stave away migraines? I didn’t even know he got migraines. But, um, Zoe had a pierced ear. And he wore an onyx stone.”

“Wait.” Sam interrupts. “A teacher and a music instructor? If you add a librarian to that list, you end up with-“ Sam stops talking. He visibly pales and the goosebumps that spread across his forearms are so visible everyone can see them. 

“Who-“ Balthazar begins, only to be cut off by Sam. “No.” 

“Sam.” 

“No.” 

“Sam. We deserve to know.”

“I can’t”, Sam says. “Whether I’m right or wrong, you guys are going to hate me, either for thinking it or saying it.”

They stay quiet, trying to think of words that will convince Sam that what he’s thinking won’t come to pass but it’s Cas who makes it so that they don’t have to. 

“The librarian was mine. Father is the Ruthless Killer.” He says simply before turning to Sam, “thank you. At least now that I know I feel better actually. So much more makes sense.”

Everyone is quiet for a long time until Balthazar speaks again. 

“I had intended to tell you guys about him so that we could decide whether we should or should not go to him. I never meant for this to happen. I feel shitty beyond belief. I feel like it’s all my fault.”

“It isn’t.” Michael says quietly. “We needed to know and now we do. And nothing has changed. It’s as you said before, we belong together and when one of us suffers the rest of us do too. None of us are ever going to have to carry weights alone anymore. And look on the bright side.”

“There’s a bright side?” Samandriel asks, thinking of all the poor animals he’d lost over the course of his childhood. His dad had told him they’d run away. That he probably wasn’t doing something right and they’d left him. Manipulative bastard. 

Michael laughs but it’s cold and mirthless. “Yes. We can get rid of that fucking mausoleum we call home. I don’t know about you but I hate that place. It’s so empty. In fact, if you’re up for it, and Balthazar is coming to stay, we should just move here.”

“We could always buy a mausoleum here.” Gabriel pipes up. “Live together.” 

Everyone groans dramatically as though living with him would be that bad, but when they’ve moved on to a different subject, Gabriel smiles to himself.

“What are you thinking about?” Sam whispers. 

Gabriel whispers back, the smile on his face getting wider. 

“They didn’t say no.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Nineteen

As horrific as it is to know that their father is a serial killer, the knowledge of it still seems to settle something in the brothers. All of them had traits that they had noticed set them just a tad off from the rest of humanity. Whether it was how steadfast in their pervicacity they could be or their flat out insouciance towards most people- regardless of how high up the totem pole they were. They didn’t care. They were Novaks. 

But it was more than that- it was a general disinterest, an apathy about so many things others deemed important (Michael’s last girlfriend had screamed at him that there was something wrong with him emotionally and he’d never find anyone like her. She grew angrier when he told her he was perfectly ok with that), an almost sociopathic-like attitude that they didn’t have to cultivate, it just was. 

Gabriel had erroneously thought his weirdness came from coming from a large fucked up family. Turned out his brothers were fine, it was actually just a fucked up dad. He was strangely ok with that.

They’re crossing the street to go to his bakery for a midday snack, his hand safely ensconced in Sam’s who’s wearing his ever-present purple beanie, when he looks around him and realizes how fucking happy he is. This is everything he could ever want and never dared dreamed about. He has his siblings, he has Cassie, who has Dean and he has Sam. 

“Best Christmas ever.” He declares, looking around with a broad smile. 

“I vote that when we come head to head with Lucifer again, we thank him for bringing us all back together.” Cassie says, the sparkle in his eye that could only be described as slightly demented. If Dean doesn’t shudder it’s because he knows Cas. 

“You guys realize we’re all just this side of crazy, right?” Samandriel pipes up. “If ever we felt so inclined we could have the fucking mob crying for their mommies. I don’t know about you guys but I am unnaturally good at manipulating people. I try not to though- it gives me a squick feeling.” He says quickly. 

“I think that’s all we can hope for, to be frank.” Michael chimes in. They’ve reached the door of the bakery and it’s closed because of Christmas but they’re there for said snack and to pick up some stuff for Bobby’s later, where they’re spending their Christmas Day. 

“I think you’re right.” Balthazar agrees. “We all have the ability to be cruel, to be them, but we’re choosing not to. We’re choosing to recognize that all of this,”- he points at all of them, “is more important than that could ever be. I, for one, recognize it. I’m already rich. I have my own money and now I have y’all. I don’t need anything else.”

“Hear hear.” Gabriel says. “Now lets go inside and toast to this properly.”

Smiling, they open the double doors to Gabriel’s quaint little shop and— 

Sam’s hand is pulled roughly from Gabriel’s as they fly backwards. He lands on his shoulder. Hard. Distantly, over the ringing in his ears he can hear someone screaming as bodies thud to the ground around him. He doesn’t know what’s happening but he hopes everyone is alive. 

“Dean?” He calls out, coughing roughly as he attempts to wave away the cloud of dust and debris that’s covering them so completely he can’t see his hand in front of him. 

“Present.” He hears Dean groan. “Roll call and make it a tree cause talking hurts. Cas?”

“I am here.” They hear after a moment. He sounds pained but continues the tree. 

“Gabriel.”

“Blurghh.” Gabriel mumbles something incomprehensible but they are able to recognize his next word. 

“Balthy?”

“He ruined my suit, the rat bastard. I’m going to skin him alive.” Balthazar seems to being the best so far, sounding more annoyed than anything. 

“Mickey?”

No response. 

“Michael.”

Nothing. 

“Michael!” They hear Samandriel shout. 

To their relief, they hear a warbled something sound back and as the cloud is finally dissipating Sam and Dean share a look, their minds already switching to autopilot- to deal with the crisis in front of them the way John taught them. 

You can’t help anyone if you’re hysterical.

“Phone? Mine’s busted.”

Dean lifts his hand in response, shaking his head all the while. His phone is not just broken, it’s deadass crushed, Dean having landed on it when he fell. 

“Cas?” 

Cas shakes his head. “You know I usually leave mine.”

“Gabriel?”

Gabriel just groans and Balthazar pipes up. “We’re not doing this tree shit again. Here’s my damn phone and my unlock pin is 6-4-5-6.”

Balthazar still sounds pissed. That suit must have been expensive. 

Sam hits 9-1-1 and quickly explains their situation. He lets the dispatcher know that Michael, having fallen silent once again, is the worst one off and that Gabriel has probably re-broken his leg. 

“ADA Winchester, the ambulance is on it’s way but I will need to ask you some questions until they get there.”

That irritates Sam, who wants nothing more than to crawl over to Gabriel to see if he can help in any way, but he understands so he complies. “Go ahead.”

“Do you know what made the building explode? Someone else actually called in a fire so you have a fire engine that’s been heading your way for the past two minutes.”

Sam shakes his head before remembering she can’t see it. “No. We have no idea. We were walking to my boyfriend’s chocolate shoppe to get some dessert for now and one for later when we celebrate and then we were all pushed backwards and there was a loud-“

Sam almost drops the phone as it all comes together for him. 

“ADA Winchester, a loud what?”

Anger races through Sam, hot and scorching. That motherfucker. That motherfucker. It was fucking Christmas and he hadn’t given a single fuck. He was a dead man walking. Sam was going to kill him and no one was ever going to find his body but no one would mourn him either because the world was better off without him. 

“Sir?” He hears the tinny voice calling out to him. 

“A loud boom. I just realized it was a bomb.”

He looks at his brother then but Dean’s already looking at him, his eyes confirming what Sam is just figuring out. He’s looking at Sam whilst chewing on his bottom lip. He’s thinking and that makes Sam happy. No one is smarter than Dean when he thinks. 

Sam knows it’s rude but he clicks his phone off and stares at Dean. “Figure it out.” He says meaningfully, knowing Dean will understand. 

He nods at Sam. “I’ll get it taken care of. I just need to know if you want him alive or dead.”

Sam frowns as he thinks it over. Lucifer should be dead but a part of Sam doesn’t think he should be allowed to get off so easily. He wants him to suffer. 

“Last resort, death. Preferable resort, I send his ass to fucking Guantanamo Bay.”

“We’ll let the motherfucker burn, then.” Dean says savagely, before continuing, “on Christmas too. Is nothing sacred?”

Sam would laugh but he needs to stay angry to stay on task. The fire department has arrived and he can see the ambulance from where he is. 

“Samandriel?”

The poor kid looks terrified. 

“Wha-what?”

“Are you talking to Michael?”

“Talking? No.”

“You’re supposed to keep them awake, I think.” Balthazar inserts.

Samandriel shakes his head and responds without looking up. “If I talk to him I can’t ensure he’s still taking more breaths.” 

Everyone shuts up at that and then luckily, finally, the ambulance arrives in a flurry of movement. 

There are more sirens coming, Sam can hear them. He can also see a black SWAT tactical truck coming, probably to make sure there’s only the one bomb and to ensure it’s fully disarmed. There are two fire trucks and three ambulances. 

“Who’s coming with him?” The EMT asks. They’ve collared Michael and have him lifted onto a gurney. 

“I am.” Samandriel says before anyone else can.

The EMT nods. “Let’s go then.”

Samandriel gets up and Sam can see that his shirt is torn and bloody. His face is dusty and there’s blood on his face too. Whether it’s a head wound or a lip cut, Sam doesn’t know but he does feel compelled to tell the EMT to check Samandriel out too. 

“Get Sammy there checked out, please. He seems to be favouring his left leg.” Dean says, beating Sam to it. And Sam sees Dean is right. Samandriel is favouring his left leg. He hadn’t even noticed but Dean has always been a ton more observant than he.

“Next?” Asks the next EMT. 

“Gabriel, raise your hand, sweetheart.” Sam says. 

“Would that I could, Sammy. It’s trapped under something that I suspect used to be my counter.”

Sam’s heart sinks as he starts contemplating all that Gabriel has just lost. It hits him so hard that he suddenly can’t feel the ground beneath him anymore. 

“Sam.” 

Dean. It’s Dean. Sam gulps in a greedy breath of air. Thankful to a god he doesn’t know exists or not that he was given Dean. His fucking anchor. 

“I’m good. I’m good.”

The EMT’s have Gabriel on the next gurney. 

“Who’s with him?”

“I am.” Sam says, lifting himself up gingerly. He’d already taken stock of his limbs and everything seems to be intact but that doesn’t mean he’s not bruised from the impact. He’s also bleeding although it’s not too bad, just a shard of glass that struck him in the palm. Sam had just plucked it out and tossed it to the side but it had gone in deep enough that blood was still seeping through. 

“Got a Band-Aid?” He asks the EMT, who glances at his hand while he adjusts Gabriel and straps him in, “I’ll clean it up for you on the ride to the hospital.”

“Ok”. Sam looks back at Dean one last time and locks eyes with his brother again. Promises of vengeance, care, love and affection flow between them until it’s time to go and the ambulance doors close. 

Still at the bomb site…

“Who’s it going to be, gentlemen?” The EMT glances between Dean, Cas and Balthazar. 

“I think it’s going to have to be me,” Balthazar says. 

“Um, I’m pretty sure Cas has a concussion.” Dean tells him, not immediately understanding why Balthazar would even want an ambulance. The guy looks fine and earlier the most complaining he’d done had been to whine about his suit. 

Balthazar shrugs from where he’s lying down, another thing that doesn’t make sense to Dean. Why is he lying down? On all the shit that’s on the ground, no less?

“Have you ever watched Sherlock, Dean? The BBC version?”

“Um, yes?” Dean frowns. 

“You remember when Sherlock gets shot? And his inner him tells him to fall back to avoid bleeding out?”

Dean’s getting a very bad feeling about this. 

“Get him. Now.” He tells the EMT’s tersely. 

To keep Balthazar talking, he responds. “Yeah, so?”

“I landed on something. Something that’s in me but it must have been short because it didn’t cross all the way through.” Now Balthazar’s voice sounds strained. 

Dean expels a frustrated breath of air. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

Balthazar shrugs as the paramedics start working around him, trying to figure out how to best get him up without him bleeding out. 

“I needed the others to go first. If I die, it’s ok. I’ve always been the odd man out, no one will really miss me. But imagine if it was Michael that died and Samandriel was left alone? Or if it was Gabriel? I couldn’t do that to Sam. But me? Well, I can’t say I’ve never contemplated suicide. Sometimes”- Balthazar coughs as he’s jostled around a little bit, his voice more and more strained, “sometimes I get nightmares. Bad ones. Sometimes I’ve wondered if it wouldn’t be easier to just end it. Even now, I’m wondering why I’m fighting to keep my eyes open. It would be so much… it would be so relieving to just close them. Eternally.”

“Nightmares. About what?” Dean asks absently. He thinks Balthy is talking because he thinks he’s about to die so he doesn’t really want to eavesdrop on the man’s innermost thoughts but he knows he has to keep him talking so he’s asking questions Balthazar has to expand on while he looks around and ensures he’s well enough to get up and get Cas, whose eyes are closed. 

“Eh, this and that.” Balthazar responds. He pauses, like he doesn’t know if he wants to continue or not. But then seems to remember he’s dying anyway so he just shrugs again, waits for the pain that’s coursing through his body to subside and then decides to go ahead. What the hell, right?

“Mostly it’s of people riding my ass, if I’m being frank. Fat disgusting men like to feel like they are kings of this rock. It made them feel empowered to have me pinned underneath them; their bulging stomachs laid out all over my back as they slammed into me. Even in my nightmares, I can recall the pain with an accuracy I don’t think will ever be forgotten.”

Well fuck. So much for not paying attention. 

Dean stops where he is. Another ambulance has arrived and has Cas ready to go and the EMT is asking whether Dean is coming. 

Dean can’t. 

Dean can’t leave Balthazar and somehow he feels like Cas wouldn’t want him to. He shakes his head and motions for them to go. 

Then he walks over to Balthazar. 

Balthazar is slowly being lifted. The problem had been that they had no way of relieving the pressure until Balthazar dryly reminded them that they couldn’t less he bleed out. 

“Well, then,” the paramedic, who’d been standing with his hands on his hips looking him over, reached up to scratch his neck, “I guess it’s a good thing you landed on that countertop. We’re just going to take you both. It’ll help keep you steady.”

“Look on the bright side, you don’t have to prevent my getting hurt, I’m already hurt.” Balthazar said, spreading his arms genially.

The paramedic stared at him. 

“Right. We only have to ensure you survive the trip to the hospital.” 

“If I don’t, that’s ok too.” Balthazar says. 

It’s then that Dean cuts in, running his fingers across the arch of Balthazar’s foot. He’s relieved when it twitches. At least he’s not paralyzed. 

Balthazar meets his eyes and it’s with no small amount of accompanying relief that he notices that his eyes are mostly clear. No confusion; no dilation, just that same steel grey look that Balthy has had since he arrived. Pompus with an intensity that would scare him if he wasn’t accustomed to Cas. 

He readies himself with a deep breath.

“I know what it’s like to walk around with your head set on fire and no one but you can see the flames. I know what it’s like to have to hide behind others’ spines. I know what it’s like to be alone, to be hungry, to desire, more than anything, the loving touch of someone else. I didn’t have that.  For a very long time. Until Cas. Cas loves you and by extension so do I. Your brothers all feel whole right now because all of y’all are here. You have to stay. You have to fight. Just a little bit longer.”

“What’s a little”- the coughing is harsher, the breathing heavier, “what’s a little longer?”

Dean looks to the skies as he tries to answer honestly. He knows what it’s like to live with depression. To feel like the rest of your life is an insurmountable concept, that it’s not something you’re going to survive and if you die it wouldn’t be because you couldn’t survive, it’ll be because you flat out didn’t want to. Forty years is an eternity to someone with depression. Forty years is hell incarnate- to know that you have to do this, this fighting, day in and day out. To live with the knowledge that some days you might feel ok, sometimes you might be able to feel the sunshine on your skin and it doesn’t burn but you’re living knowing that the next day or, hell, in ten minutes you might be on your bed, crying your eyes out because you were triggered by something or someone. You were reminded of your own worthlessness. And that’s the hard part. To find the strength to keep fighting over and over and over for something you know is worth nothing. 

He knows what it’s like to know that you have absolutely no value and that no one, not even those that claim to love you the most, will really care all that much if you were gone. God, does he know. 

Who wouldn’t notice if YOU were absent? Cas’s words come to him, as they so often do, and they give him strength because with Cas he feels invincible. With Cas, he thinks of forty years and they don’t crush him, they give him life. With Cas, he thinks maybe, just maybe, the next forty years are more than just survivable, they can be a life worth living. 

He brings his head back down to meet Balthazar’s eyes again. Finds him staring intently. He’s waiting on an answer. 

Dean swallows. 

“Forty years.” He says. 

He watches Balthazar’s eyes widen. Watches as, for the first time since he’s met him, they shutter, his expression closing off. He watches as they fill with tears, watches as a look that can only be described as defeated presents itself on his friend and he watches as his eyes squeeze shut and his left hand comes up to cover his eyes as he tips his head back. Watches as a sob rip through him and he shakes his head. Dean can see the anguish written all over his body. Can see the way he’s trying to hold back his pain, both physical and emotional. Hears how wrecked he feels when he hears, “I can’t, Dean. I can’t.”

“We have to go. Now.” The EMT says pointedly staring at the pool of blood that’s growing around Balthazar. 

Dean glances at Baby. He’s never left her anywhere but…

He clambers into the ambulance behind the rest of them and they’ve only reached the end of the block when one of the machines Balthazar is hooked up to starts beeping like crazy and he’s watching as the EMT’s rush to work on him. He watches, almost in an out of body experience as they rip his (silk) shirt open and there are patches being placed and paddles taken out of a little red briefcase type thing and then Balthazar’s body is jerking right before his eyes and still the machine remains one single long beep. 

“Go faster!” One of them is shouting at the driver and the exertion of the gas pedal being pressed down sends Dean flying back but he does nothing to protect himself, he keeps watching. The paddles are placed again. Balthazar’s body jerks again. His blood is everywhere now. He’s still bleeding out and every jerk sends it flying. It lands on Dean’s pant, cheek, second knuckle of his index finger.

Again. 

He jerks again. 

Again. He can hear the EMT yelling out for stronger charge to be applied to the paddles. 

Again. 

He hears the paramedic call out for a stronger charge again. 

The machine keeps its long, continuous beep.

He hears the responding, desperate, fearful voice tell him that it’s been three minutes.

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP

Chapter Text

Balthazar doesn’t die but it’s a close thing. He definitely would have if Dean hadn’t turned to the shaking, newbie paramedic and told him in no uncertain terms that he would kill him if he didn’t keep counting and pressing those paddles to Balthy’s chest. Dean’s pretty sure he made the kid cry. It’s a toss up between tears and sweat. He might feel inclined to find out if he gave a shite but he doesn’t. He’s just glad Balthazar is alive. 

At three minutes and thirty-five seconds there’s a line hooked up to Dean who told them he was O- and donating blood. They told him it was basically a waste. He told them he didn’t care. 

At minute four and a quarter, they were pulling up to the hospital. 

A person can live for five minutes while they bleed out. 

A person can go between 4-6 minutes without breathing before they can’t be brought back. 

Balthazar is jerked back to life at minute five and three seconds. Dean knows because as soon as the kid had announced three minutes he’d started counting. 

If it weren’t for his crazy paranoid dad he wouldn’t have even known the other shit. He shakes his head ruefully. Who knew all the stupid shit he'd had shoved down his throat would actually end up being of use? 

Luckily he did and so when Balthazar’s eyes flutter open it’s to the sight of Dean Winchester also getting a blood transfusion because he had maybe given a bit too much but if he hadn’t Balthazar would have bled out by minute five so it’s ok and it's then that Balthazar decides that the world can go fuck itself because if Dean was willing to save his life with his own then he must be worth something. And he leans on that because sometimes the people that we can’t trust are ourselves and the only ones you can trust at the closest ones to you. And if they say that you’re worth something then goddammit, you must be. 

So he’s fighting now. Every breath feels like it might just be the one that makes his lungs fall apart but he doesn’t care, he can’t care because he doesn’t need to go looking for more reasons to add to the list of why he’d rather be dead, he needs to start looking for reasons to live. 

He looks at Dean instead and he wonders about him. Wonders what his story is. He’s staring so intently that he doesn’t even notice, at first, that Dean has been staring at him the entire time too, until he speaks up. “Is this a thing we do now? Stare each other into oblivion?” His voice is dry, like it needs water, but it also sounds gruff and that’s Dean’s normal voice so maybe it’s nothing. Distantly Balthazar realizes that his thoughts are discordant but he can’t seem to quite get them in order, so he just lets them come as they are. 

“You saved my life.” And yeah, talking isn’t a good idea. Talking involves too much. It involves the lungs, the vocal chords, the expansion of chest and he can’t go around expanding his chest right now, it hurts way too much and he feels like he just went ten rounds in a ring with two other people and ended up gettin pummeled in the front and the back. You’d think he’d be accustomed to pain but this one is is different. Where the others had been forced on him, this one almost feels…earned. And that makes him stop talking and think it through. It has been earned, he thinks. It’s been earned because he’s fighting for something worth it now and it’s not just his measly ass existence. 

He’s fighting for Michael, the oldest, who grew up too fast, and Samandriel, the youngest, who hasn’t gotten to live at all. Someone has to teach them how to be fun. He’s fighting for Gabriel who still lives life a little insecure, thanks to the lot of them, when he is worth so much. His brother is radiance, sun, and glory all at once. He’ll be damned if he goes without Gabriel realizing that. He’s fighting for Castiel, the little weirdo with his bee-themed bowties and Winnie the Pooh socks that Balthazar had bought him and then had to explain because the furrow in Castiel’s forehead informed him that his brother didn’t know who the fuck Winnie-the-fucking-Pooh was. 

He’s fighting for his family. He may not be worth much but they sure in the fuck are and he can’t let them down. Not after everything he’s put them through. He can do this. He knows he can. And who knows? Maybe the next forty years won’t prove to be more than he can handle. 

“Thank you.” He tells Dean, focusing on him once more. His tone is still raspy and he thinks the words didn’t fully come out of his throat but Dean nods anyway and Balthazar thinks he got it. 

The room is quiet for a moment, Balthazar’s brain still trying to catch up with the events that have led them up to this moment when Dean speaks again. 

“What do you do, Balthy?”

Balthazar shakes his head. He doesn’t do much. Doesn’t need to do much. Nothing that demands his day-to-day time anyway. Anyway, his…everything still hurts. He points to the general vicinity of his throat and shakes his head. 

Dean nods his understanding and for another couple of minutes they continue to scrutinize each other. Dean is very…pretty. There’s no other word for it. He’s all tan skin, emerald eyes, freckles, plush bow lips, long legs that even sat as Dean is, are evidently bowed. His hair is a dirty blonde, like it couldn’t figure out if it wanted to be brown or blonde. Rebellious. Just like Dean. No one tells it what to do. He’s corded muscle perpetually wrapped in Henley’s and low slung jeans that go the perfect amount of over on his boots- boots that are distressed more than old or overused. He’s a hot head for sure, but when Cassie is around the way he mellows is physically visible, the entire way his body just relaxes. 

Balthy has only known him a short time and in that time he’s seen him be brash, crude, bordering on outright rude, angry, infuriated, hellish, cocky, and a whole slew of other negative adjectives. On the other hand, he’s also witnessed him be soft, loving, kid-like, energetic, warm, patient, reliable…and a whole slew of other positive adjectives. In Balthazar’s (admittedly) limited knowledge on all things love, he thinks that Cassie and Dean make a wonderful couple. The pacifist in his brother calms Dean, helps him stay grounded when his instinct seems to be to go running into trouble head first. On the flip side, Dean’s playful side is the perfect amount that Cassie needs. Not as overbearing as Gabriel’s is but he’s nowhere near as even-tempered as Sam. Yeah, they compliment each other nicely. His brother did good. 

Balthazar and Dean turn in tandem when they hear the curtain of the “room” they’re in being pushed to the side. Ah, speak of the handsome devil. Cassie comes in, looking disheveled as fuck but otherwise good. He’s got a cut on his eyebrow that gives him a slit and Balth can tell, just from looking at it, that it’s going to scar. Still, it gives Cas an edge that makes him look good. He digs it. Philosophically speaking, it’s aesthetically beautiful in that he’s choosing to see how well it suits Cassie rather than focusing on the fact that he has it at all because their brother tried to blow them up. If the look of murderous intent on Dean’s face is any indication he hasn’t brushed up on his aesthetic philosophy. 

He watches from where he lays as Cas quickly walks over to Dean and wraps him in a hug. Hears them whisper words of love and affirmation to each other and then simply hold each other for a long time before Cas carefully disengages. 

Tears immediately spring to his eyes when his brother turns to face him and he has to turn his head. He can’t meet his eyes right now. He’ll crumble. But it’s too late because Cassie has picked up his hand and in the words of the Dear John letters, that was all she wrote. Huge tears start streaming down his face. And whether it’s cause of the situation or because as much as Dean has managed to hype him up, he can’t help but feel like he should have done something, anything, more, so that his family could avoid this problem of apocalyptic proportions that they currently find themselves in. 

“Balthazar.” 

He doesn’t turn, knows he still can’t. Every thing still hurts even as the faucet he landed on has been removed from his back. He had landed hard enough on it to make it go in but nothing was damaged and it was successfully extracted. Still, it had bled a lot and he bled a lot. He’d been warned against strenuous movement and he is trying to hold himself stoic but his body is shuddering as he tries to contain himself. 

It’s the “sweetheart”, he hears, in his brother’s deep baritone that’s ultimately his undoing and his torso comes forward as he tries to curl into himself. He can feel the stitches tearing but can’t find in in himself to care. He just feels completely despondent and he doesn’t even understand why. He knows, logically, that it’s not his fault. He knows, but that fact alone does nothing to help him feel like if he were dead maybe all of their issues would clear up. Everyone is better off without him. He has always been, always will be the bane of their existence, the little bit of bad luck that follows them around like a black cloud hanging over their heads, the streak darkness that remains and no matter what they do, he will be there, just bringing all the dread of life into it. He doesn’t- he doesn’t - he doesn’t deserve to-

“Stop being so fucking selfish.”

The coldness in his brother’s tone stops him short. 

The words continue, hissed at him where Cassie doesn’t yell but he speaks lowly, curt and short. 

“You think you’re the only one who feels blame at this shit show we’re currently living? No, Balthazar, we’re all carry it. You don’t get to check out because it feels like you can’t carry it all, you share the burden and we carry it together. You know why? Because we’re fucking family, we’re fucking brothers and we fucking love each other. I love you. I love you with my entire being because you’re my brother and there will never be a moment in time where you’re worth more to me dead than alive. Ever. Get that through your fucking skull and stay. I demand that you STAY. Because I need you here. I needed you then, I need you now and I will need you in the future. So I need you to fight. If not for yourself, then for me, for us. Because we want you here. We need you here. Not because of what you can give us because I don’t need any of it but because of who you are. You carry scars and so do we, brother, but our scars warp around each other and it makes us whole. We’re whole together, Balthazar. But only if you’re here.” 

“Now then, straighten up and rise up. We are Novaks. We are stronger than anything life tries to throw at us. And we’re that much stronger when we band together. I love you so goddamn much. And no one can take that away. No one.”

Before he can even say anything, Balthazar’s younger brother, Castiel, has called for a nurse to come restitch him. He chances a glance at Dean who is currently smirking. 

“He’s like a little tornado, right? Looks like a little angry bird whose feathers got all ruffled?” Before Balthazar can so much as nod, Dean continues.

“The thing is, even though his manner was a bit…unorthodox, it comes from a good place. I think Cas is tired of seeing his family being torn asunder. We’ve been dealing with this Lucifer thing since before you arrived and Cas, Cas is a pacifist. He hates the fighting. I don’t know if he got that from Gabriel or what, but they both shy away from it. The only time you’ll see them willing to step up and fight is when it’s for someone they love. And that’s what he’s doing, Balthazar. He’s fighting you for you. From what I can tell, it’s likely that you need medication. The thing about medication is that it’s nothing that you have to keep forever. Usually. If you do, that’s fine, but most of the time, it’s like these little picker-uppers that we use from time to time to re-straighten ourselves out and then we wean ourselves back off them, again. And we survive, living off the pockets of happiness that we’re able to carve out for ourselves and when we need to call on those memories we do. And when they aren’t enough we lean on each other, when that isn’t enough, we use the medication to get back on track.”

He stops talking as Cas walks back in with a nurse in tow. Immediately the nurse helps him out, cleaning up the blood that had shed and letting him know that he didn’t reopen them, just stretched them out a bit but they’re still good. Still, he’s going to call a doctor in here to give them a proper once over and does he need anything? Balthazar shakes his head no and closes his eyes as his nurse walks out. He suddenly feels overwhelmingly tired and he hopes that Cas isn’t going to continue tearing him a new one. He doesn’t know if he can take it. 

With that last thought he finds himself drifting off, the events that have transpired over the course of the day finally sapping the remaining of his strength and he’s out. 

_____________________

Cas glances over at Dean, anxiety rising up quickly. He knows you can’t talk to someone who suffers from depression and self-worthlessness like that. He knows he probably did more harm than good, but he was just…frustrated. So frustrated that the family that he just got back seems to be getting tested at every turn. At this point they’re never going to have a day where they can just be happy and today is Christmas, goddammit. They had plans. And he finds himself hating Lucifer so hard, tears of loathing and anger hit his eyes. 

“Hey Sunshine. Look at me, look at me.”

Cas meets Dean’s eyes and he finds himself incredibly grateful to someone for the compassion and understanding that he finds in his fiancé’s eyes. He gives him a shy smile. One that Dean returns and then put his fingers through the outstretched hand that Dean is holding out. 

“I just-“ he sniffles, unsure how to even begin to explain the sudden bout of helplessness he felt. The whole thing with Lucifer and his demons suddenly feels unsurmountable. What if they don’t win? What if his family is ripped apart before it’s even begun? What if-

“Angel.”

“Angel.”

Cas startles. Dean is looking at him intently. 

“We can’t always win the war all at once because we’re not savages and we play with a set of rules that the other team doesn’t abide by. But that’s ok, because we’ll win all the little battles and that’ll be their ultimate downfall. We will be ok, angel. I promise.”

Once Cas takes a deep breath, Dean rises and lets him know he’ll be back, before turning and walking out of the room. There’s a call he has to make. 

__________________

“Hello”. The deep voice comes over the phone and Dean tries not to grimace, swallowing against the sudden bad taste in his mouth at even having to make this call. He hates this guy, hates that he’s having to reach out to him, hates Lucifer for making him have to make this call, but hated the defeated look on his fiancé’s face so he’s doing this because enough is enough. He just hopes that the name of his crazy dad still has enough clout to make this old man do his bidding without too many problems.

“Hey Gordon.”

“Dean?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s happened?”

“I’m going to send you a file. I need him captured, hurt him if you have to, in fact I kinda prefer it, but I need him alive.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“You can consider your debt to John Winchester paid.”

“He’s dead and my debt wasn’t with you.”

Dean doesn’t say anything, knowing that his silence will speak louder than words. Fifteen seconds later he hears the words he wanted:

“Consider it done.”

Chapter Text

i believe that the only way to reform people is to kill them

Gordon Walker was a piece of shit. His ma, before she’d passed, had told him and his old man  (still kicking only because his grandmother, who incidentally was the only person who’d ever loved him had asked him, on her death bed, to please not kill her only son) told him every opportunity he got. So he knew. 

But he was also a bounty hunter and as it turned out being an asshole aka piece of shit was what helped make him one of (if not the) best bounty hunters that existed in the Americas. He always got his man. If he occasionally had to go about it the unscrupulous way, well, so be it. 

So when he opens the file Dean Winchester sends him, he can’t help the smile that plays on his lips. First at the sheer audacity of the kid sending him this file. This wouldn’t pay back the favour he’d owed John Winchester, this would have put John Winchester right back under his debt were he still kicking. This was huge. Lucifer Milton. On the other hand, this was psychotic Lucifer Milton. Lucifer Milton was FTA (failure to appear) and seeing as Gordon was a freelancer, if he caught Lucifer Milton he’d get not only the reward money but also his percentage of the bond for apprehension and retrieval. It would be a very lucrative pay day. He had, after all, been wanting to go back to Amsterdam. It had been years, close to two decades actually, since he’d last made an appearance. It was due and he was due. 

Entering the name into his computer program he waits for it to spit out the name of the company that was stupid enough to bond Lucifer out. If it’s been too long and they’ve already lost the money to the court it’ll be a lost cause there. His leg jiggles as he waits for the program to tell him, silently willing it to work faster. All he needs is a couple days. Finally it pops up and he can’t help but expel his sigh of relief. He has eight days to get the bastard. His plan is to nab him in three, wait for him to get re-bonded out and then kidnap him for Dean. That way he can get his body receipt and get paid from the bondsman, get the reward the state is offering for a “fugitive at large” and repay his Winchester debt. Fucking John Winchester. And people called him crazy. If only they knew. 

John Winchester hadn’t just been a crazy and mental head case prepper. John Winchester had also been as close to neo-Nazi as one could get without being obvious about it and rumour had it he’d applied to be stazi back in the day, except that being a “Seppo” had promptly had his application booted. Gordon had the disfortune of working with the man once and all he got out of it was this debt that he was now going to have to risk his neck for. Ok, so he was going to get paid handsomely (if everything worked according to plan) but still.  He stares at the screen absently, chewing on his already lost cause nail beds as his mind runs through plan A and then B, C, and D as back ups. He rifles through the top drawer of the wobbly, decrepit desk that he never bothered to replace and pulls out his laminated intricate blue prints of city maps so he can start planning all the different ways Lucifer might try to get away. 

Sometimes Gordon wonders if the reason why he’s such a good bounty hunter is because he’s able to get into the mind of a criminal. The worse they are, the better he gets. What does that say about him? Considering how, to present, he’s always been able to nab whomever he’s after, does that mean that in his heart of hearts he’s actually worse than they are? If he were to commit a crime (not that he hasn’t but none that he hasn’t been acquitted for), and he went FTA, would anyone ever have the smarts to catch him? 

He shakes his head and forces the thoughts out of his head. He can’t think about that right then. Scooping up the maps in one hand, a cup of cold coffee that could be best described as sludge, he heads out. He wants to make sure the maps are accurate. He needs to run the streets down and take note of any discrepancies, anything that might hold him up or interrupt his imminent take down. There will be time for soul searching later. Mainly after he has his millions in hand. He grins. He knows he’s not a good person. His desire to return to Amsterdam proves that. But hey, is he really doing anything wrong if the Red Light District is legally there? All those beautiful twinks, just ripe for the taking. He doubts anyone could ever been even remotely as good as the silver eyed wonder he had once upon a time, but it can’t hurt to look. He’d be lying if he said that over the course of the years he hadn’t thought about that boy once or twice. His dick twitched as delicious memories went through him and he looked down in surprise. He hadn’t even known the damn thing still worked. Hmm. Maybe this was a sign of good things to come. Maybe it was a sign of good luck. He almost scoffed. He didn’t really believe in luck. He made his own luck. Responsible for his own destiny and all events that had occurred to him and subsequently brought him up to this point of life. 

He shakes his head to himself as he reaches the first intersection of his destination. According to the file that Dean had given him, they had more than enough to get Lucifer Milton convicted of so many crimes it was unlikely that if he made it to a prison he’d ever see the light of day again. Of course, someone of Lucifer’s caliber was more than capable of committing the same atrocities inside as he did being free. If he were a god, Gordon would have just killed him. That wasn’t to say that he hadn’t killed before but honestly, collecting on a dead body was tiresome and there was just so much paperwork that he tended to avoid that as much as possible. What could he say? He was a lazy son of a bitch. Or so his dad said. Considering how much fucking work catching some of these bastards was, Gordon begged to differ but whatever. 

Either way, it wasn’t his job to collect the proof, it was just his job to catch him. Again, he knew Lucifer was around. You didn’t travel in the circles Gordon travelled and not collect crucial pieces of information. Lucifer Milton was big news and as it was there were already plenty of wannabe bounty hunters swarming to the city. Fucking Dog, the Bounty Hunter. He made it seem like it was all leather chaps and knocking doors in with steel toe boots and shooting people but experienced hunters like Gordon knew better. Half the time it was sitting in a car, doing surveillance for so long it was conducive to his bladder that he have empty cans he could pee into without having to get out. It was related to Murphy’s Law. Once you exited the vehicle, you missed all the excitement. 

A honk behind him alerts him that he needs to pay fucking attention and drive for the love of somebody. He flips the driver off and turns to the left, turning the steering wheel around what seems like multiple times before the damn thing actually turns. His truck is old. Pre-power steering and he’s put far more money into it than it was worth when it was right off the lot but he’s kept it because it was his great-grandfather’s, his grandmother’s dad, aka the only good person to ever exist- in his eyes anyway. And people think he’s incapable of sentimentality. Personally, he never met the guy and truth be told, he’d probably not have been the guy’s favourite grandkid but he holds on to it because of his grandma. The only person to ever give a fuck about his eating habits. He glances at the thousand fast food wrappers sitting on the baseboard and seat next to him. Ok, so they aren’t the best habits to keep but his burgers and tacos come with lettuce and that has to count for something, doesn’t it? 

He jots down the piece of block that’s partially cordoned off for what looks like a new water pipeline going in, making a mental note to check with the city and make sure that it’s legit. He almost lost an FTA once because the street that his mistakenly thought had been authorized by the city turned out to be a hijacked escape route. He’s never made that mistake again. He checks and double checks all avenues before cementing any of his plans. 

He’s on the last route when his phone rings. Glancing at it, he sees that Dean Winchester is once again calling him. He doesn’t sigh but it’s a close thing. Dean Winchester doesn’t look like John Winchester and the differences are so drastic that he’d be curious to find out if he was a legitimate son if it weren’t for the fact that their personalities were identical. John Winchester was the most stubborn son of a bitch that Gordon ever had the displeasure of meeting and Dean was actually worse. Gordon thinks that it’s because many things, primarily the law and the fact that it was often chasing John, were beyond John’s capabilities. Dean has none of those things hanging over his head. Gordon would bet his life that Dean shares the same paranoia as his father and probably owns more weapons than John did but he’s never been on the wrong side of the law. And if he has he’s been phenomenal at it because from the information heard through the grapevine no one is even remotely close to sniffing around him. Well, with the exception of a P.I. here and there, but Gordon pays them little mind. P.I.’s. Puh-lease, cut him a fucking break. Most of them couldn’t find their way out of their ass, much less anything else. There was that one thing he’d been told about one of them by the old bartender who had been at The Mule for as long as Gordon could remember (he remembered having been forced there by his old alcoholic father). He’s the PI version of you. If you two would have ever worked together, you would have found Jimmy Hoffa. Gordon had laughed him off but now it gave him pause. 

He pulls over to the side of the road, giving the squint eye to the four youths who were standing at the corner non-inconspicuously looking up to no good, before grabbing the file and rifling through it as quick as his hands could move. Damn arthritis. Off the top of his head he couldn’t remember the name of the PI that had been mentioned to him but he had no doubt that if he saw it he’d recognize it. There it was. Frank Devereaux. Holy shit. He was working with him. Not together but close enough that it gave him chills. He was officially over the moon over this case. He debated calling this Frank to see if he’d like to engage in a friendly wager and almost didn’t because it would be nice to win alone but then realized it wouldn’t be as much fun if the other participant was an unknowing one. No, Gordon liked winning. At all costs. And to do so, there had to be a worthy opponent. He knew a worthy opponent when he saw one. Grinning to himself, he pulled the paper towards him, put on his bifocals so he could see the phone number (damn bloody age) and dialed the number. 

May the best man win. 

Chapter Text

“Run that by me again. You did what?”

Something on Lucifer’s face must have alerted Trevor that his boss wasn’t nearly as happy about what he’d done as he’d anticipated. He’d been hoping for brownie points but now- he gulped and shifted nervously, flinching when the scuffing his shoe did against the ground made the quiet sound even louder. It made him startle. 

“SPEAK, YOU IMBECILE!” 

Trevor jumped as his boss stood, his chair flinging back wildly, slamming his fists down on his desk. 

Trevor felt immediate wetness in his pants and knew he’d fucked up. “I thought you hated them. I did it for you.” He responded, weakly. 

“You had no authorisation for that.” Lucifer screamed. “Was anyone hurt?”

Trevor wanted to lie, but he knew better. He nodded. 

“Who?” Lucifer demanded, already coming around the desk. Trevor wanted to run, his fight or flight instinct kicking in. He had no hope in a fight against Lucifer. The guy was not human, he moved with a fluidity and speed that Trevor had witnessed before and had hoped to never have part of. He glanced at the door but it was too late. Lucifer’s hand was already around his neck. 

“It’s too late, darlin’. Now. Tell me. Who. Got. Hurt.” With every word, Lucifer tightened his grip around Trevor’s neck. Definitely no easy feat as Trevor was meaty but he was still no match for Lucifer. 

“All of them, sir.” He managed to gasp out. 

In one fell swoop, Lucifer released him and backhanded him hard enough that it had him seeing stars. If Trevor’s heart had been racing before, it skyrocketed now. He thought if he got in trouble he’d have days. He was going to escape. But now he saw that had been naught but a foolish dream. He was never meant to walk out of here alive. 

__

Lucifer stood from where he’d been- somewhere around Trevor’s ankles. Cutting your Achille’s heel allegedly hurt like a motherfucker. It was one of Lucifer’s specialties, something he saved when he really wanted to torture whomever was being dealt with at the time.

After Trevor had told him, in detail, what he’d done, Lucifer had taken joy in pulling his tongue out, a little trick he’d learned from watching an old movie called The Dentist on late night television. The storyline had been dull, just your typical guy goes off the deep end when he discovers his wife is cheating on him type of movie, and the actresses were no better. Their screams high pitched and over exaggerated but the idea of pulling someone’s tongue out had intrigued him and Lucifer’s attention had remained on the screen as it depicted the action over and over. This was the third tongue Lucifer had grasped between pliers and pulled. There was just something about pulling until he felt that little jump that happened when he’d successfully dispatched the tongue from the hyoid bone. It was as heady a feeling as he imagined an orgasm was for most people. 

Lucifer glanced around, taking satisfaction in a torture well done. Not that he was done. Still, bits of flesh and blood, lots of blood splattered about, evidence from the lashing Lucifer had executed. That particular move was courtesy of Tom Hanks and the Da Vinci Code and that sanctimonious, self-flagellating idiot bastard who flanks his own back in some ridiculous motion that this would please his god. And people said Lucifer’s mind was fucked up. He shook his had ruefully at himself. It made zero sense. Why torture yourself when you can torture others?

He scoffed, his hand reaching to thumb the barbs on the whip he’d used. He felt a slight pinch and when he turned his thumb over he realized he’d accidentally pricked himself. 

He shrugged, bringing his thumb up to his mouth to lick the blood off. Tasty. He tasted delicious. 

He stood behind Trevor, hanging as he was and carefully looked him over, studying the open skin on his back…maybe a few more lashes on the legs would do, they weren’t nearly as marked and Lucifer did enjoy the vibrant colour and dramatic design the blood painted. Then again, he didn’t want the fool to pass out from the pain. What was the fun in torture when the person couldn’t feel it?

His eyes continued roving until he realized that he’d been staring at Trevor’s ass for a few seconds. It was a nice ass. Muscular and evidently so. It was also currently clenched tight, the pain most likely making Trevor tighten all his muscles. 

Hmm. Could be fun. Lucifer did like it tight after all. But first- pulling out his cell phone out of his pocket carefully so as not to get any blood or human bits on it, Lucifer called Raph in. 

Before his brother arrived, Lucifer stepped around the body to look at Trevor in the eye. 

“You know what I’m going to do now?” He asked, softly, looking straight into the sucker who hung there with blood streaming from the corner of his eye. Lucifer pondered that he must have cut it open when he punched him repeatedly across the face. Maybe he should take up MMA or UFC fighting or something. He was obviously very good. 

A minuscule shake of a head brought his attention back to the present. 

“Well. You fucked me over, so logic dictates that I should now fuck you, don’t you think?”

Lucifer excited watching the realization of his words hit Trevor, whose eyes immediately teared up even more than they already were. Lucifer leaned in and smiled maliciously. “Don’t worry, I don’t have any lube but I’ve been told I have a very wet mouth.”

The sound of the door opening and closing let Lucifer know that Raphael had arrived and carefully, Lucifer stood back and disrobed, carefully removing one shoe at a time, followed by the sock because wet socks were the worst. When he put his foot down, it squished and Lucifer stood there for a second, curling and uncurling his toes as blood reddened his toes. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever experienced. He was a sensory creature and this- this felt amazing. It was a work of art. 

When he heard Raphael clear his throat, he continued, pulling off his pants and shirt and carefully laying them to the side. He would have to get rid of them, he’d originally wanted to be sufficiently careful so that he could put them back on afterwards but the squishing had fucked it up. That was ok though because that had been glorious. He was hard from the sensation his feet had felt and now he stood and watched Trevor cry for a few moments before bending down and putting his hand in the blood. He brought it back up and grinned at both Trevor and Raphael. 

“Look! Lube!” He said, waving his hand back and forth maniacally. He wrapped the bloodied hand around his cock, and gave it a few experimental tugs before stopping. Even though he didn’t often have sex, masturbatory or otherwise,  he wasn’t someone who easily orgasmed. Probably because of his severe antipathy towards the passion sex was supposed to bring. 

This was not the case currently. He was so turned on with the blood that stained his cock pink and red that he had to stop before he came. He had a mission after all. 

Stepping, once again, around Trevor, who had once again started tugging fruitlessly against his restraints, Lucifer slapped him on the ass to make him cease the twisting and turning, opened the ass cheeks, spit on the hole that was going to take him and sunk in. 

Trevor screamed.

Lucifer came. 

__________________

It had been a realization a long time coming but it was time to head back. He’d inconspicuously kept an eye on things, courtesy of bought cops and detectives, judges and senators, alas, no one suspected a thing. But now his son was stepping too far out and actions like those had to be dealt with. If his little house of cards ever crumbled around him it would be by his own well constructed doing, not because of his imbecilic son with a Brobdingnagian Oedipal complex. Seriously, who acted out that much over a lost parent? Personally, he’d been seven when he killed both of his. His sister lucked out because she hadn’t been present at the time. It had been almost too easy. Almonds really did hide the taste of cyanide.  

Of course, he supposed he had to give some credit to his age. No one believed that someone his age could possibly be capable of doing anything of the sort. Especially with his epic display of crocodile tears as he cried out for his “mummy”. He chuckled to himself a bit as he bypassed all the passengers waiting in the TSA security check lines. He was in pre-check TSA and flew first class, not because he intended on sleeping but because he liked boarding first and watching the people who got on. He sadistically enjoyed the way some people’s eyes roamed, wide with barely restrained anxiety and fear at the thought of hurtling through the skies in what amounted to a tin can. He shrugged, readjusting his carry-on bag from one shoulder to another.

“Where are you flying to today, sir?” The attendant asked him, squinting at him suspiciously. Carver held his attitude and innate desire to tell the “gentleman” to eat him. 

“Kansas”. He smiled genially before continuing, “my son has some upcoming nuptials and I get to walk him down the aisle.”

The attendant cocked his head. “Your son? You’re walking your son down the aisle?”

Carver smiled, his contempt thinly veiled. “Yes sir. His partner will undoubtedly be waiting for him at the alter.”

“Ohhh, I understand.” He blustered now, doing the human thing where we over correct for an accidental faux pa. Luckily for Carver it worked in his favour, as the attendant quickly let him go by, barely a second glance taken at everything he was supposed to be reviewing. 

Thirty minutes later had Carver giving another fake smile to the stewardess who greeted him as he boarded the plane first. 

Stuffing his bag into one of the cubbies by his seat, he pulled his sunnies back out and put them on his head, leaned back in his seat and settled in to watch the impending show.  

_________

“Was that really necessary?” Raphael sniped, watching Lucifer’s body heave deep breaths in. It was the most he’d ever seen Lucifer exerted. It made him jealous. Jealous that he had never been able to try his hand at making Lucifer lose it. 

He watched as Lucifer released Trevor’s hips, where he’d held him immobile, the prints of his strong hands a stark red against the white of Trevor’s body. He glanced at Trevor, who seem to sag even more, body slowly rotating as it hung limply from the restraints he was held in. Blood ran down the backs of his legs, merging with the rest of the blood that was already starting to clot.  

He felt eyes on him and he turned back to Lucifer who still stood there, the only movement he’d executed being the turn of his head to face Raphael. 

“Do you know what he did?”

Raphael shook his head, his anger ebbing slightly. “You mean this wasn’t just for fun?”

Lucifer scoffed, the cords in his arms flexing as his chest puffed out a bit in indignation. 

“Are you serious right now? One, don’t be ridiculous. Two, I’m disturbed that you don’t already know what’s going on. Is this the sort of lackadaisical work ethic you implement in all of your work? Are you the reason so many fucking pigs are constantly in my business?” The volume of his words had gone up and Raphael took an involuntary step back. 

Lucifer smiled at him but it was a terrible smile. It was cruel and mocking, manic and full of rage, the blood that was now smeared all over his own body making him look like he’d just bathed in the blood of his enemies. Raphael shuddered as his brother walked over to him, looking like something hell itself had rejected.  

“Don’t back away now, this was what you wanted, right? My attention? That’s what had you so jealous and snippy just a few seconds ago, remember? Well, now you’ve got it.”

The smell of him was untenable and Raphael could feel himself turning green even as Lucifer placed his hand on his shoulder and shoved him down. Raphael promptly clamped his mouth close but it was of no use. A hard slap against his face made his jaw drop and his brother’s soft cock was unceremoniously shoved into his mouth. Raphael tasted everything. Bile rose up but there was no outlet for it as Lucifer’s hand was tightly grasping the back of his head. It came out of his nose. Raphael had no choice but to swallow it. 

Lucifer was hard again now and he pounded mercilessly into the back of Raphael’s throat.

“Is this what you wanted? You want me to use you like I did him?”

He pulled his dick out of Raphael’s mouth and spun him around, bending him over the table he’d placed his own clothes on, yanking on his belt buckle and popping his button over all while yanking his pants down. 

“Lucifer! Stop!”

“No. There’s no stopping. Don’t worry little brother, for you I’ll spit twice.”

Then something hit Raphael’s buttocks and he felt it slide down between his ass crack. The only mercy Lucifer showed was shoving his thumb in, opening him just slightly. Then it popped out and he felt the blunt head of Lucifer’s cock at his hole and then it was in. Raphael felt like he was going to split open and he held in his own screams. He would not give Lucifer the satisfaction. A small part of him told him he was making it harder on himself but he couldn’t help it, he was also a Novak after all. They were a stubborn lot. 

He was not disappointed. Lucifer pulled his cock all the way back out and shoved it in, not giving Raphael even the slightest opportunity to adjust. His head whipped back and he arched, trying to lessen the pain but a sharp sting on one of his ass cheeks jostled him even more and he just stopped moving completely. It mattered not. Whether he moved or not, everything in him hurt.  

The Lucifer adjusted and it was a direct hit against Raphael’s prostate.

He gasped at the unexpected jolt of ecstasy that ran through his body.

Time slowed down just as Lucifer did. 

He felt his hand on his ass cheek again, this time in soothing circles. 

“You felt that, didn’t you? You like that? Let’s see if we can’t make you come untouched.”  

Lucifer took his time fucking Raphael. He switched the pace from furious and fast to slow and  just this side of painful. Not because he cared but because he liked it when the person came without wanting to. He liked that shit. Their confusion, their self-disgust, the subsequent feeling of having been betrayed by their own body when they inevitably came. Lucifer smirked as he glanced at the mirror in front of him. 

His brother’s eyes were dilated, all of Lucifer’s atrocities laid to the side, momentarily forgotten in the fog of lust, unwanted as it was.  

Thirty-five minutes later found Raphael with hot cum spurting directly on his face, his own cock, flaccid and spent. He had indeed come untouched.  

“You realize,” Lucifer spoke up, tucking his shirt back in, “that you might as well be doing that with Michael too? We are twins after all.”

Raphael pulled himself up off the ground, where he’d ended up, stumbling only slightly while he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. 

“Not identical.”

“True”, Lucifer conceded, turning back to Trevor. 

“Fuck.” The fucking shit had the audacity to go and die on him while he wasn’t paying attention. Luckily for whomever was next on Lucifer’s shit list, he was feeling pretty mellow so he didn’t even bother bringing anyone in as a replacement. 

Pulling out his cellphone he called his cleaner and gave him the address and location of the body. His cleaner hated him but it was too bad because Lucifer had him by the ‘nads and there was no way “Death” as Lucifer had taken to calling him (because sometimes he had to finish the job when Lucifer got bored) could free himself from underneath him. 

Blackmail. 

Worked every time. 

___________

“The problem is that I don’t really see Lucifer using anything as mundane as a bomb.”

“Mundane?” Dean asked incredulously. 

Michael nodded. “Bombs are a big deal, no doubt about it, but they’re not really Lucifer’s style. He wants to bathe in the blood of his enemies, but only when he’s the one personally responsible for it.”

“And you’re sure?”

Michael nodded again. “It’s what we were talking about before going into the bakery. We’re all a bit insane. I can feel that it wasn’t him.”

“Or maybe that’s a twin thing.” Gabriel piped up. 

Michael shuddered. “You had to remind me, didn’t you?”

Gabriel smirked, not bothered in the least at making his brother uncomfortable. 

“Hey Mikey.”

Michael looked at him warily, he recognized that tone of voice. It was never followed by anything good. “Yes?” He asked, hesitantly. 

“You know they say twins tend to experiment with each other. You and Luci ever…?”

He laughed uproariously as Michael’s face turned green. 

“Gabriel!” 

Sam smoothly put his hand over Gabriel’s mouth as his lover opened his mouth again, assumedly to put more horrendous images in everyone’s minds. 

Hearing a garbled sound they all turned to Balthazar, who was lying on the bed, looking like he was trying in pain, whether from laughing or from trying not to laugh, they didn’t know but the edges of his eyes crinkled even as his mouth turned down and he clutched his torso. 

Sam watched as Dean got up and went to press the nurse button, probably asking for another drug for Balthy, before turning around to see his people. There were perks to having money, he decided. Several of the brothers had offered to donate a wing of the hospital’s choice complete with top of the line equipment if the hospital let them all stay with Balthazar. Money really talked because after initially being told no, at the mention of the money, the hospital administrator suddenly found a way to accommodate them. So now all of them were here. Sam, Dean, Cas, Gabriel, Michael, Samandriel and of course Balthazar. Throughout the day, several family and police had stopped by. Outside of the room stood two private security bodyguards, who were chosen surprisingly by Castiel. According to Cas, it wasn’t enough that they had brute strength, they had to have a brain too like Dean. Dean had turned red at the compliment and Sam almost giggled at his brother’s red face before remembering that the reason behind his brothers embarrassment was that Dean didn’t think he was smart, so he’d merely nodded in nonchalant understanding and agreed. He pretended not to see his brother’s startled glance his way even as his heart fell. He couldn’t stand seeing his brother’s face of disbelief at his easy acceptance at being called out for his intelligence. He was going to make it his new year’s resolution to make sure his brother saw his own worth. 

Sam stretched out his legs, pulling Gabriel closer to him as he looked around. It was almost midnight. Christmas was almost over and they’d spent the entire day in the hospital. A group of carolers had come by earlier, spreading their good cheer. Sam would have told them to get lost if it weren’t for the fact that many of them were kids, wearing beanies over their heads, with too big hospital gowns wrapped around their too thin bodies (what seemed like multiple times), but with big smiles on their faces and hope shining from their eyes. If they could be strong, then Sam could too. They had sang a song that Sam didn’t recognize but that Dean and Gabriel had joined in on. “It’s from Frozen.” Cas had whispered in his ear when he looked surprised. Dean elbowed him then and Cas had rolled his eyes but joined in, his deep baritone acting as a bass underneath all the higher voices. It had a soothing effect that Sam felt in his bones, calming him and it seemed to work on everyone because after it was over Sam had exhaled deeply and from the ensuing sounds he hadn’t been the only one. 

After the carolers left, Samandriel spoke up, “Castiel, why do you know that song?” Cas had huffed, recognizing his young brother poking fun at him. “I blame him,” he said, pointing his thumb Dean’s way, “he forces me to watch Disney movies with him.” 

“Hey!” Dean had protested. “They’re good movies.”

“Some of them are.” Cas had conceded, nodding his head. 

“What do you mean, some? They’re all gold.” Gabriel had pitched in. 

Cas had wrinkled his nose. “I was not all that fond of Cinderella.” 

Everyone had turned to Dean. “Bro, you made him watch Cinderella?” Sam had asked. “That’s just wrong.” He teased as Dean had flushed red, his face and neck turning the colour of a tomato.

“Cas, you weren’t supposed to tell, man.”

Cas frowned, the wrinkled brow indicating his bewilderment. “You didn’t tell me it was a secret.”

Dean opened and closed his mouth, realization settling in. He waved a hand dismissively at everyone. “Bite me, I wanted him to have the full experience.” 

“Mmhmm.” Sam hummed, enjoying putting his brother on blast. Of course, he’d known about Dean’s affinity for all things Disney, he even understood it. Mulan, The Road to El Dorado, The Hunchback of Notre Dame were all badass, but Cinderella? He snickered. 

“Something you wanna say, Sammy?” Dean glowered at him. Sam smiled at him, mischief clear in his hazel eyes. “Nah, just planning my dare for the next time you lose at paper-rock- and scissors.”

“You’re such a bitch.” Dean paled, appropriate considering his propensity for losing the game every time. 

Sam shrugged, not caring in the least. “Tough titty, jerk.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever played paper-rock-scissors.” Michael piped up. 

Sam stared at him, agog. “Seriously? You have approximately a dozen siblings and you’ve never played?”

And so the remainder of Christmas Day was spent playing paper-rock-scissors. An hour later, Detective Bradbury, or Charles, as Dean had taken to calling her, stopped by to bring them a deck of Uno Flip at Dean’s request and she played half a hand with them before declaring the game never ending and citing the necessity for sleep. “Some of us have to work for a living.” She grumbled good-naturedly, before ruffling the top of Dean’s head like the kid he was and pulling him into a hug. 

That had made Sam smile. It seemed that his brother had made a new friend and that pleased him. Dean had trouble making friends, although to be fair the friends he did have were very loyal. Very good people. 

Even one of the security people that Cas had chosen seemed to have become fast friends with him. Benny. Dean came back from getting hot tea for everyone and told them all about how Benny was working security detail to save enough for a restaurant. “You’ll have some competition here pretty soon.” He taunted Gabriel, who merely rolled his eyes. 

For Sam, it had always been pretty easy to make friends, the thing that made them different, however, was that his friends weren’t the ever lasting type like Dean’s. His friends came and went, they were seasonal friends, acquired for whatever phase in his life he was currently in and then, once he moved on, so did they. Sam pondered if perhaps it was because he’d never really needed friends, he had Dean. Dean was the glue that held his entire life together. He sat back, automatically readjusting Gabriel, and let out a breath. If his brother ever died, Sam would be alone. Everyone who came around now would inevitably leave and he would be alone. 

“Sammy, you ok?” With a jolt, Sam came back to, Dean’s voice perpetually being his saving grace. He blinked. Gabriel looked at him, worriedly. “I said your name like three times. You were super zoned out, where’d you go? Are you ok? You’re crying. Did you know you’re crying?”

Sam lifted a hand and wiped away a tear. “I was just-“ he croaked. He cleared his throat and tried again, “I was just thinking that everyone here, everyone who I consider a friend, everyone is really Dean’s friend. If he ever dies I’m going to be all alone.” Sam forced himself to take a breath, feeling tears well up in his eyes again. He didn’t know why this sudden epiphany was hitting him so hard. He figured it had be caused by everything that was going on, not to mention the fact that Dean dying was an actual possibility now that they had a goddamn psychopath after them. 

“I’m sorry, remind me again why I’m dying?” Dean asked, wincing when Cas reached out and smacked him lightly on the arm. 

Sam shook his head. “No, I’m not saying you are, I’m saying that if you did, I’d be all alone. I don’t have any friends that were either mine first or mine alone. I have nothing and no one.”

Dean, looked at him, arching his eyebrow. “I’m not understanding. You’ve never needed friends, you have friends, my friends are your friends.”

“That’s exactly my point, Dean! I’ve never needed friends because of you. I have you. I don’t need friends. But if you’re not here then what am I supposed to do? Oh my god, I need friends.” Sam whimpered even as Dean tried to hide his laugh behind a cough. 

“Um, I’m your friend.” Gabriel piped up. Sam looked over at him and Gabriel gave him a cheery little wave, “remember me? Gabriel? Love of your life? Allegedly, anyway.”

Sam started laughing and sat up again, wiping his eyes. “Jesus, I’m a mess. Phew. Ok, I’m ok, I just had, like, an, I don’t even know, daymare or something. Fuck.” 

Dean shook his head at him. “I always knew you were a girl, Samantha, but damn.”

Sam laughed again as Castiel clapped his hand over Dean’s mouth. “For what it’s worth, Sam, if Dean were to die before you or I, I would hope that you and I would lean on each other. I consider you my closest friend after Dean and I absolutely enjoy our talks. Perhaps after all of this is over, we can ‘hang out’ together.” 

Sam almost shook his head, almost told him it was ok, but then he thought better of it. 

“I would love that.”

_________________

It’s after Raphael has left and Lucifer is just standing there, idly watching Trevor's body sway where it hangs, contemplating life and next steps...

It's while he's waiting for his Cleaner to show, that the music starts. 

Lucifer doesn’t startle easy but there is no reason for music to suddenly start playing, seemingly out of nowhere and goosebumps cover his entire body, his adrenaline spiking, going zero to sixty in two seconds flat. His hands instinctively cover his dick as he frantically looks around. 

Devil, Devil

Clever, Devil

Lucifer has never heard this song but he needn't have to understand the sudden unexplainable knot in his stomach, the sudden weight that he feels settle on his chest, the sudden desire to flee, to drop everything and run. 

Please no.

It can’t be.

Do not try me, devil, devil

Lucifer knows, with one hundred percent certainty who it is then, and he stands, stock still with fear, his brain immediately dissociating and shielding itself, instinctively knowing that what is about to happen is more than Lucifer's conscious mind can handle.

Lucifer loses control of his bladder as he sinks into the darkness that has flooded his eyesight.

His last conscious thought as he blacks out is that he hopes his d- he doesn't see the whip. 

Chapter Text

“Now then,” Lucifer is barely approaching consciousness when his dad starts talking. He considers blacking out again when a sharp slap makes him sit straight up. He’s tied up, naked, on an aluminum chair that wasn’t there before. “Enough of that, Jesus, you’re dramatic as fuck. You act like I’m going to kill you. Torture you, maybe, but only if you don’t cooperate. Be a good boy and talk and you just might walk out of here alive. Now. As I was saying-“

Lucifer opens his eyes and everything his dad is saying falls away as his eyes land on the man he hasn’t seen in decades. He is wearing a crisp button down shirt with cufflinks on the sleeves, his hair is perfectly coifed, the curls short and tight against his head, and his pants land exactly where they’re supposed to atop his shoes. Nothing and nobody disobeys Carver Edlund, not even his clothing. 

“…after all I wouldn’t be a good dad if I didn’t punish my disobedient son. It says so in the Bible, Lucifer.”

Lucifer says nothing. There is, after all, nothing he can say. He wants to close his eyes but knows that won’t bring him anything but additional pain. Knowing his dad, he’ll probably find himself sans eyeballs. Carver is exactly the type to scoop them out with his bare fingers, all the while laying the blame on Lucifer. If you’re not going to use them, you might as well not have them.

Instead he resigns himself for the pending pain when a plaintive but shocked “dad?” Brings him, once again, back to his full senses. 

Carver is standing in front of him and when he hears the word, a smiles stretches across his face and it’s the smile of true evil. It’s light years ahead of anything Lucifer could ever be and something must show on his face because in the next second he hears the sound of the door closing and utter relief floods his body when he chances a look towards it and he sees that Raphael had the sense god (or someone) gave a chimp and opted to flee. 

Lucifer is not a good man. He’s not a good human, hell, he’s barely human, but in that moment he’s almost tempted to thank someone for letting Raphael escape. Lucifer has been in Carver’s clutches before. He’s hesitant to say that he’d ever wish even his worst enemy that spot, much less his brother. Huh. He didn’t even know he cared about Raphael all that much. 

He doesn’t know where Raphael went but he finds himself hoping that he’s running to their brothers. He’d rather be dead than be left at Carver’s hand. Maybe Dean will kill them both. God, he hopes Dean kills them both. After this little session with Carver, Lucifer knows he won’t want to be alive afterwards. It was hard enough to shove that shit way down deep the first time around and he was just a kid then, kids are resilient, but now? No, now he has no hope. He’ll be a shell of a man if for some reason he survives this. 

“You ever think of little Tommy, Luci?”

Lucifer feels the blood drain from his face, feels it pool at his feet as he fights to keep little Tommy in the dusty memory box he long locked him in. He isn’t fast enough and he keels over, his wrists and arms biting into the rope as he gets a flash of little Tommy, the skin missing from his face. 

“NO!” It’s out of his mouth before he can stop it and he knows he fucked up. Bile rises and is out, spurting on himself and in front of him and still when he opens his eyes, none has landed on Carver. He is still immaculate, the sadistic grin on his face one that Lucifer could never hope to match. 

“What do you mean no, son?” That alone is enough to wrench another memory out of Lucifer, one of another younger Lucifer who heard those exact words come out of his dads mouth when he refused to help him torture his best friend. 

His dad doesn’t wait for him to answer. Just reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small pair of pliers. 

“Tell you what, why don’t we play a game?” He steps a little closer to Lucifer, the smell wafting off of him as he sits in his own puke, apparently not doing a damn thing to deter Carver from coming closer. 

He waves the pliers at Lucifer who is trying his hardest not to think of the endless things he knows those pliers can be used for. 

“I think we’ll play the game of how many fingernails does Lucifer want to keep. I’ll tell you a fact about little Tommy and you have to answer true or false. Of course, for some of these you’ll have to think very hard. Make sure you do. The harder you think, the more you remember, the more fingernails you’ll get to keep. How does that sound?” He asks so politely that one would think he was working in customer service, trying to assuage an irate client. 

Little Tommy never stood a chance and if he were to put all the cards on the table and were very honest with himself, Lucifer would have to admit that he doesn’t stand a chance either but he’s not an Edlund and he’s not a Milton. No, he’s a Novak, he’s whatever backbone Gabriel, Castiel and Balthazar have and he’s going to get through this if it kills him. He swears it on his brothers. 

__________________

Balthazar is going to be in the hospital a while yet but as the rest of them still have some  semblance of responsibilities, two days later find the brothers gingerly hugging their brother (or  future brother-in-law) and saying their good-bye’s. Dean went first and had merely given him a fist bump, gruffly telling Benny to take extra good care of him. Dean hated saying good-bye. Sam watched him, an amused smile gracing his face, before shaking his head. Everyone knew Dean was a damn softie. His brother might as well give it up. 

“I don’t think he does it for us,” Cas told him lowly, “I think he does it for himself.” Hmm. That gave Sam pause. “What do you mean?” He asked, pulling a sniffling Gabriel closer to him, his baby was a cry-baby and Sam loved him for it. 

“I think he can’t say good bye. So he does everything but that.”

Sam is going to respond when it’s his turn to say good bye and he bends his long frame to say bye to Balthy who is doing better but is still nowhere near ready to leave, no matter how much he whines about, well, everything. 

“Be a good boy, Balthy.” Sam says, already accustomed to Balthazar and knowing exactly what’s going to follow. 

“Or what? You gonna spank me?” Balthazar grumbles. He really doesn’t want to stay at the hospital. Sam’s, oh, about one hundred percent sure it’s because he’s scared to. Sam totally understands, he really does, but over the past couple of days all of them had shared and conversed and Balthy had let them know about Milo. So Gabriel had called him. Asked him if he’d do them the favour of staying with Balthazar for a couple of hours until the first of them took their respective shifts. Milo had only been too happy to help. 

Courtesy of Dean, they had all mapped out a schedule so that they could get some time to rest, work, etc and spend time with Balthazar. 

Knowing all this, Sam responds as cheekily as possible. “I will if I get the report that you’ve been a bad boy.” He chucks the bottom of Balthazar’s chin and winks at him. 

Balthazar turns to Gabriel. “Get your man. He’s making me blush like a bloody fool.”

Gabriel smiles through his tears. “I will help him if he needs to.”

Sam groans. “This is what I get for playing with fire.”

The three share a laugh before getting serious. 

‘“You know it’s going to be ok, right? Benny is outside and we called Milo, he’s coming.”

Balthazar brightens up. “Really? How do I look?”

Sam is about to respond when Dean, who had apparently been waiting for them at the door, speaks up. “Irreplaceable.”

Sam watches as the word makes something click on Balthazar’s face and he doesn’t know what that’s about. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever hear what went on, he only knows that Dean has basically been Balthazar’s right hand man since they arrived at the hospital. He watches Balthazar acknowledge the word by nodding slowly at Dean and the look on his brother’s face that he’s seen before. It means “you better”. 

Slowly, everyone files out of the room, some a bit more gingerly than the others. Samandriel has a leg brace on, Michael ended up being mostly ok, his neck was a little sore and he had multiple visits with chiropractors in his very near future to work out the residual kinks in his spine and vertebrae but the doctors who had checked him out declared him free of any long term effects. Cas ended up with a mild concussion and a small scar over his eye, that Dean was still mother-henning him over, Gabriel had a sprain on his wrist but his leg was no worse for wear, to the surprise of everyone. And Sam? Sam was ok. He knew he was going to need a therapist after all of this was over but aside from that, he was ok. 

They push through the hospital doors and haven’t taken two steps outside when a motorcycle (a Suzuki that Sam, who has an affinity for motorcycles the same way Dean has about cars, knows to be roughly two hundred thousand dollars and known for its speed) comes roaring down the wide hospital drop-off entrance. The person skids to a stop and pulls off their helmet, tossing it on the handle bars and barely stopping to adjust his pants or even pull them back out of his riding boots before rushing up the steps. Sam is the first to recognize him. 

“Raphael?!” 

Raphael looks around crazily before recognizing Sam and rushing over to him. “ADA Winchester! I have to-“

He doesn’t get to finish before finding himself staring straight in the barrel of a gun. Castiel’s gun. Where the fuck has it been this whole time? It feels like everything is going in slow motion and it’s only Sam’s mind that’s racing. 

“Do not move.” That’s Cas. Cas is holding a gun to his brother’s head (who to his credit doesn’t so much as startle. Sam has to wonder how many times he’s found himself at the bad end of one). He catches his brother’s eye but Dean is already in action, taking a couple of sure strides over and putting his hand on Castiel’s outstretched arm. 

“Angel?” 

“Yes, Dean?”

“You might want to put the gun away, it’s a federal crime to have it out in the open at a hospital.”

“But this is Raphael.”

“I know. But it’s one of him and several of us. We can take him mano a mano.”

“I cannot.” 

“That’s ok, sunshine. I’ve got you.”

Sam sighs in relief when Cas puts his gun down, thankful that none of the usual security guards were milling around outside. That might have gone drastically different. 

Instead he watches as Raphael’s eyes roam over everyone. He sees recognition when he sees Gabriel and Dean, a little curiosity at Cas, and pure shock when he sees Michael. He does not seem to recognize Samandriel at all. 

“Is that-?”

“Don’t ask questions. Just tell us why you’re here.” Castiel is pissed. Sam hadn’t realized just how much until now. He practically vibrates with anger, his cerulean blue eyes boring into Raphael’s, rendering him immobile as they do everyone else. 

Raphael blinks twice. He breaths out and runs a hand (is that blood?) through his hair before turning and looking off into the skies. 

“Father is here.” 

Where Sam’s mind is reeling (and he’s sure everyone else’s is too), Castiel is calm, cool and collected. 

“That does not explain why you are here.”

“What?” Raphael looks a little perplexed. 

“Here. We are at a hospital. Why are you here, Raphael? What do you know about this?” Castiel takes a step forward, fists clenched by his sides. 

“Hospital?” Raphael looks around, like it’s the first he’s heard of it. “This is where I was told you were. I don’t know! Look, I need to talk to ADA Winchest-“

Castiel cuts him off again. “Who told you?”

“Who told me what?”

Sam would laugh at the absurdness of the conversation if it weren’t so unfunny he could cry. 

“Who told you we were here?”

“What do you mean, who? It was-.” Raphael cuts himself off, squinting at Castiel. 

“Oh. You’re very good. Unfortunately for you, I grew up with Lucifer. What hope do you have?”

“What hope do you?” Castiel throws his question back at him. 

There is silence for a moment as they all watch Raphael seemingly put different pieces of information together. Finally he sighs, mutters “Trevor”, shakes his head and looks back at them. 

“There was information Lucifer was going to share with me. He hadn’t yet gotten the opportunity to, we were otherwise…indisposed. However, he did…interrogate a fellow subordinate over antecedents that he had not authorised. I do not know what happened but I am assuming that is why all of you are walking out of the hospital right now? Whatever it was, you have to know Lucifer didn’t do it. And, look,” he waves at all of them, “it looks like everyone came out just fine. Now can I please talk to ADA Winchester? I-“ Raphael cuts off and takes deep breaths before continuing in a whisper. “I’ve never seen Lucifer so scared.”

Sam’s mind is reeling. Seems Michael was right. He glances at Michael but Michael is staring at Dean and Gabriel who appear to be having a silent conversation. Oh right. Balthazar. Raphael seems to not know that Balthazar is present. 

“What the hell makes you think we’re all alright?” It’s Samandriel. Sam moves but Michael is quicker, coughing loudly and shaking his head at Sam. 

Raphael’s face of fear turns into one of mild confusion. 

“Who are you?” He asks, a questioning look on his face. 

Sam is about to respond for his friend but this particular friends needs zero help. His lip curls. “Seriously? You don’t remember me? Jesus, I have the worst brothers.” He crosses his arms and looks away before moodily pointing at them and amending his statement. “Except for them.” 

Dean coughs and Sam knows his brother is trying to cover up a laugh. He definitely understands it because that sounded just like the angsty teen Dean always accuses him of being. 

“Well, I know who you are not. I know you are not Balthazar. Balthazar is in Europe somewhere. And the only other brother I had is dead. So, no, I do not know who you are.”

“Dead?” Samandriel looks at them. “I’m dead?”

Gabriel speaks up then. “Ok, this conversation is rapidly deteriorating. Raphael, what do you want? Why aren’t you with Lucifer if he’s in so much alleged danger? If it sounds like a trap, and it smells like a trap…”

Raphael shakes his head, inching closer to them as people exit the revolving doors to the hospital. “Look, I don’t know what to tell you. We, uh,- “ he shifts uncomfortably, glancing at Sam as he does, “There’s just a lot you don’t know but, um, I came back and Lucifer was tied up to a chair. Naked. I only recognized da- Father from the back of the head but Lucifer, Lucifer was practically telling me to run with his eyes. Please. Please, help me. I can’t- I can’t lose him.” 

His voice cracks and everything slots in place for Sam. From the audible gasps heard around him, he knows he isn’t the only one who’s figured it out. 

Something cold passes over Raphael’s face. “Don’t judge me. Don’t judge us. You know nothing. If you’re not going to help me, just say so so that I can find someone who can.”

“Fine.” Dean says at the same time that Gabriel speaks up, “Where do we find him?”

Their responses are short and curt. Under any other circumstances he and Cas would admonish their counterparts for being rude but a.) it’s Raphael and b.) they’re all fucking tired. Sam hasn’t had an opportunity for a shower and the only time Dean left was to go get Baby. Thankfully or they’d be about to embark on another adventure sans car. 

“Just follow me. I’ll take you there. One of you can ride with me, if you want.”

They’re silent for a moment again. 

“Dean, how many people does your car hold?”

“Um, five somewhat comfortably, six if we don’t mind squeezing next to each other.”

“You, Castiel, Sam, Gabriel and Alfie go. I shall ride with Raphael.”

“No!” It’s Samandriel. “What if- what if-”

He gets cut off by Raphael. “Alfie? What do you mean, Alfie? Alfie is dead. Brother told me he was dead.” He’s babbling now. “I told him, we should take one of the others with us but he said, Gabriel got Castiel, Balthazar was gone and Alfie was dead. He said- he said-.” He stops himself, doing a little quick shake and straightening up. “It matters not. We must go.” He walks to his motorcycle and pulls another helmet out of the hatch. 

“You coming?” He motions it to Michael, who nods. “Yes, I’m just going to wait for Dean to come around before I get on.”

Distrust is the elephant in the room and one Michael seems to have zero qualms about addressing. Sam is impressed before grabbing Gabriel’s hand and speeding them both up to keep up with Dean’s long strides. He has longer legs but somehow Dean covers more ground at a significantly faster rate than he does. 

Silently, they pile into the car. Dean, Cas next to him. Sam sits behind Cas, Gabriel next to him, Samandriel behind Dean. 

“What is it that we’re going to do exactly?” Sam speaks up. 

Deans fingers tap on the steering wheel. “You and I will go in there. Cas, Gabe and the kid stay in the car.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me with you?”

Dean turns to Cas. “No, angel. Depending on what we find inside, I don’t want you to be a part of it. I like you the way you are. You don’t need to have nightmares and to carry all the shit this comes with.”

“You’ll be carrying it and it’s my family doing the damage. I should be in there.”

Dean shakes his head. “No, it’s ok. Besides I need you out here, otherwise Gabe and Sam will be unprotected.”

Cas considers this and concedes. 

“So I’m just being told to stay back?” Samandriel speaks up, a hard edge to his tone. 

Dean looks at him through the rear-view mirror. “Kid, do you want to see this?”

Samandriel opens his mouth, seems to think better of it, mumbles “no”, and leans his head against the glass. 

“You ok, sweetheart?” Sam asks Gabriel, who’s been sitting quietly. 

“Yeah. I just hate this. I really hate this.”

“Here.” Samandriel pulls out a bag of sour Skittles from his pocket. “I got them from the vending machines right before we left. I don’t really remember you but in every single picture we have of you, you always have candy so I’ve always kinda thought of you as the candy man.”

“Pictures? What pictures?” Gabriel pops a Skittle into his mouth, visibly perks up and turns to wait for Alfie’s response. 

“The pictures of you, Castiel, and Balthazar.”

“He has pictures of us?”

“Yeah. Just you three. Not any of Lucifer or Raphael.”

“Hmm. Curiouser and curiouser. How old are they?”

Samandriel leans back as he thinks about it, idling chewing on his thumb. Sam fights the urge to pull it out of his mouth. 

“Well, I don’t know how old it is but we have one where you’re at the grand opening of your store. You’re standing in front of it with a huge pair of scissors.” 

“That little shit. That’s not that old. Was he there or just having us followed or what the fuck?” 

Sam shrugs, “I don’t know. I think he cares a lot more than you think anyway.”

They’re sit quietly for a moment when Gabriel speaks up again. 

“The thing with Raphael…was it just me or was that…repulsive?”

“I’d rather not think about it.” Sam says, “I’d rather assume we, or I anyway, misunderstood.”

From the driver’s seat, Dean chuckles. “And people think we’re codependent.”

“Ew, gross, Dean.”

Dean outright laughs. “Whatever, from now on I’m telling people it could be a lot worse.”

They reach the hospital entrance again and Raphael and Michael are still there. Raphael on his bike, Michael standing off to the side, arms crossed and pointedly not looking at Raphael. Things seem tense. 

“I hate this”, Gabriel mumbles quietly under his breath. 

“Eat your Skittles, candy man. Forget about them. Or Raphael, anyway. Forget that guy.” Samandriel chides his older brother gently. Sam places a soft kiss atop his head. “I’m glad you’re alive, Gabe. I’m glad we’re all alive.” He likes how it feels when Gabe relaxes next to him, feels honoured that his beloved finds him as a source of comfort. 

They watch as Michael steps up and gets behind Raphael, fastening his helmet as he goes. He slides in behind him and places his hands gingerly around his waist. They see Raphael’s head turn, presumably to ask him if he’s ready, Michael nods and then Raphael kicks the stand and they’re off.

________________

Lucifer has lost two fingernails so far. The first for refusing to remember who’d ultimately ended little Tommy’s life and the second for not admitting that he’d shoved the entire memory into a box and labeled it DO NOT OPEN. 

“Tsk, tsk, Lucifer. You know our memories are what make us who we are. How we were nurtured and our nature, our environment. Why, a week after this happened, you killed a small chick that was placed in your hands. Just squeezed the life out of it.”

Lucifer’s fingers throb, the pain running up and down his forearm. His dad had pulled the nails out slowly. It hurt. Nails were like teeth. There was a lot more under the fingertip. His pinkie and ring finger throbbed and it somehow hurt worse because Lucifer couldn’t see them. His hands were tied behind his back. 

His dad sighed audibly. “You know what? I’m getting bored. That was always my problem, I get bored easily. I like switching up the story and the players. When will Raphael be back? I could get a chance to play with him. I never got a chance to play with him. Let's see if I can make the puppet dance the way you can.”

Lucifer pulled against the binds that held him once again. He had to get out. Had to. There was no way he was letting Carver get his hands on Raphael. His brother, by association, was not a good man, but it was different with him. Where Lucifer was innately a bad human, his brother didn’t commit any of the grotesque acts he did, he merely just didn’t stop them. He stood by while Lucifer or one of his lackey’s did them. He didn’t judge Lucifer and he went where he went. 

Lucifer didn’t know if it was a misappropriation of love or if a part of Raphael simply followed him because they were siblings and, frankly, he didn’t give a damn, all he knew was that he had to do everything in his power to ensure that Carver couldn’t get to him. 

“Why are you even back?” He spews out angrily. “You just come in and ruin lives. You benefit no one and everyone is better off when you’re absent. Go back to whatever sewer you came out of.”

He tries not to cry out as he successfully breaks his own thumb. He isn’t as successful as he wishes but it helps that Carver has removed his belt and struck him across the legs with it, narrowly missing his dick. 

“Forget the torture. I think I’m just going to kill you and then chop you up. Let Raphael find pieces of you strewn about. What do you think about that?”

“You didn’t ask me, little brother, but I think this is quite enough.”

Lucifer’s head snaps up. 

Auntie Amara?!

Chapter Text

Ever since her parents died mysteriously (mysterious only to those who didn’t know her little brother, that is), Amara has kept on eye on Chuck. She doesn’t know what’s wrong with him. He’s just…off. She was fine when he was in New Zealand because he was behaving but Frank told her as soon as his name (Carver. She’d shuddered, even his very moniker conjured repulsion) popped up in airport arrivals and, yeah, no, his sudden reappearance wasn’t something she could ignore. 

She zipped up her travel Louis Vuitton all the while sighing to herself. A ping from her phone alerts her to the play-by-play texts Frank is sending her. Devereux is a little weird, there’s no getting around that but there’s also no doubt that he is the best at what he does. He’s sending her pictures, texts, everything she needs to keep tabs on her psychotic brother. 

It appears he’s headed in the direction of one of Lucifer’s hideouts. 

Thank you, she types as she puts her shoes on and finishes grabbing her things as quickly as possible. She currently lives in Austin, Texas so the flight on her private plane will be quick. She hopes that her brother drags things out as long as she needs to arrive and stop whatever horrendous thing he’s undoubtedly doing. Which reminds her…

Going over to her drawer she pushes the button placed neatly where it can remain unseen and top drawer pops out. Ok, so she got the idea from Mr. & Mrs. Smith, sue her. She grabs two of her favourite firearms. One is a Schofield Revolver. It’s a heavy .45 but it’s in red and looks fantastic. The other is a .41 Volcanic Pistol, it’s name is Red Redemption which she thinks is situationally fitting. It, too, as the name suggests, is a deep cherry red. She tries not to think about how she chose it because redemption is something she’s sought again and again. 

An hour later finds her stepping off onto the tarmac and quickly gets into the awaiting gleaming black Hummer whilst the driver puts her bag in the trunk. A quick text to Frank gets her the address where Chuck can be found. Once the driver is seated she gives him the address and they’re off. It’s a thirty-three minute drive and Amara spends it praying to a god she doesn’t believe in to arrive before her brother has done something irredeemable. 

“Just hang out,” She tells the driver upon arrival, “I’ll be needing you here shortly.”

The side door entry leads her into a room and as she steps in, she almost collides with someone rushing past her. They don’t stop to ask questions, just keep going after their initial stumble. She turns but the door is heavy and it closes quickly. She doesn’t get to see who it is. 

She’s glad she wore her soft cowboy boots. Her regular heels would have made an obscene amount of noise. Thankfully, staying in Austin has mellowed her out some. Hard to remain uptight when everyone is so goddamn genuinely friendly. 

She heads in the direction of the voices she hears, getting there just in time to hear her brother tell whomever he’s talking to that he’s going to chop him up and leave him for Raphael to find.  She does a massive eye-roll that’s she disappointed he doesn’t get to see and appreciate. He’s so melodramatic. Stepping out from the shadows, she pulls out her pistols and tries not to gasp at the bloodied, tied up mess before her. Though his face is swollen and somewhat disfigured (not to mention the copious amounts of blood), she knows it’s Lucifer. 

It’s not until Carver turns that she realizes she’s spoken. She quickly runs through what she might have said and, yes, Carver’s response makes perfect sense now. 

“You and what army?” 

“Don’t need an army.” She says, pointing her weapon at him, even as her eyes scan him over. He looks good. Well fed and healthy. She hates herself for it but she’s glad he appears well. From the outside anyway. Nothing that can be done for his ugly inside. Short of outright killing him. 

She jumps out of the way of the object hurtling her way and pops off a shot, hears someone grunt and hopes it was her brother. What? She goes to the gun range frequently enough but she still blinks when she pulls the trigger. She opens her eyes to find herself alone, with only Lucifer for company. She sighs again. Great. Now her psycho brother will know she’s around and, yep, she’s officially in danger. Luckily she knows people. Or she knows people who know people. Holding up a “hold on” finger in Lucifer’s direction, she slides her phone out of her pocket and as she instructs Siri to call Cole Trenton, her go-to bodyguard, she steps behind Lucifer and bends down slightly, trying to unknot the cord that’s starting to bite into his flesh. 

“Ugh. What am I even stepping in?” She’s talking mostly to herself but Lucifer answers anyway.   

“Pieces of Trevor.”

“Was that his name?” It’s not like she didn’t notice there was another body there, just hanging from his arms, his feet barely touching the floor. Noting the blood and the wounds on the body she shudders slightly. Her brother will do worse to her if he catches her. Far worse. He always did have an affinity with nail guns. She likes her body well enough without any additional holes, thank you very much.  

“Yes.” It comes out curtly and she glances at Lucifer because from what she’s been told, he’s arrogant, a braggart and almost solipsistic in his narcissism. He should be grinning not grimacing. He’s turned his head the other way like it physically pains him to see Trevor. 

“You ok?” She can’t help to ask.

“Mm.” It’s merely an acknowledgement that he heard her, neither a confirmation nor denial. 

Cole picks up and while she’s explaining that she needs him there asap, he cuts in.  “Why are you grunting? What are you doing?”

“My nephew is tied up, I’m trying to loosen the knots.”

“Where’s your blade?”

She stills. “Oh. Right. I forgot I had it.”

Cole whistles lowly at her. “Like I’ve always said, brain of a bird.”

She laughs before pulling her blade off her wrist, where it lies behind her bracelet. It’s small, nothing to write home about, but she always wears it. She’s probably only used it twice and her over twenty years of wearing it. 

The ropes comes off easily after that but when she’s untied him, Lucifer doesn’t run, as expected. He doesn’t lunge, which had, frankly, been her first thought. He just sits there. 

“Cole, when can I expect you?” She’s all business now. 

“I’m on my way already. GPS says I should be there in thirteen minutes.”

“Thirteen minutes? You were here in Kansas?”

“Yes. I just finished a different job for Frank last night.”

His response gives her pause. This is too much of a coincidence to consider anything else. Frank would have only brought Cole here if he thought she might need him or if he was placing Cole somewhere directly related to their situation. And if it was because of the latter, then the Winchesters were a higher priority than she. 

“Cole, listen to me. I know that you can’t tell me who you were on but if it has anything to do with the Winchesters, you need to go back. And I will call Frank directly. I’m afraid he must have been compromised. If they were your previous job, they’ll need you for a while yet. I will take care of myself.”

There’s silence on the other end for a beat. “Yeah, I thought it was weird that he’d text me from the same number twice in a row.” Everyone knew Frank was bat-shit. There was no way he’d have text anyone using the same number he’d previously used. 

“Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.” Shit was unravelling quick. “Cole, I need you to go back. The Novaks, Miltons, Edlunds, whatever fucking last name they’re using at the moment, they’re my nephews. The Winchesters are their betrothed or whatever the fuck. Go back. I’ll be ok, please go back.”

“You sure, boss? I can send one of my other men to you.”

She winced. She could handle Cole because he wasn’t super huge, just well-built but big men scared her and his men were built like, well, tanks. 

“No, that’s ok. I have Lucifer. He’ll help me.”

There’s the sound of a tire squealing and then Cole again, “What the fuck, Amara? You’re with Lucifer Milton?” He’s practically screeching and she has to hold back her smile. Her nephew definitely had notoriety. 

She glances at said nephew, who’s just staring at a wall, despondently and practically catatonic. 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. He won’t hurt me.”

“He won’t hurt you? He bombed his brothers!”

She laughs then. “Bomb? Lucifer? Nah, that’s not his style. It was probably ol Trevor who is currently hanging by his hands and is very very dead.”

“Jesus fuck.” She hears Cole mutter. 

“You know how it is. Sometimes the kids step outta line and you have to teach one a lesson to keep the others in line.”

“You’re a psycho too, aren’t you?”

She gives him a toothy grin that he can’t see and responds “I’ve got to go, darlin’. Things to do and all that. Please keep me abreast of your new assignment.” And hangs up. 

She calls Frank but the line just rings and rings. 

Fuck. 

_______________

All his planning had been for naught. Even his bet had garnered nothing more than a belly laugh out of old Frank Devereaux. 

“That’s a game I’ve already won, mate. I’ve known Lucifer’s exact whereabouts for a while now and I know where he is even now. His exact location. Sure, I could play along and get half the money but I don’t play dirty, I leave that up to people like you.”

“What do you mean, people like me?” He growled. 

“Come off it. I know who you are. I’ve heard of you. You don’t play by the playbook, hell, I’d be surprised if you even had one.”

“You’re calling me dirty?” Gordon had long since learned not to give much credence to what people thought or said about him but this was Frank Devereaux, the only opponent he’d found worthy to play with and a small part of him kinda wanted the same respect. 

“Depends. You still like playing with little boys?”

His hand clenched around the cell phone and when he spoke, spittle flew, landing on the  old, sun worn steering wheel. “I don’t play with little boys, you crazy man. Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Frank had laughed again. “Denial. It’s not just a river in Egypt. In either case, I know who I am and I know who you are, Gordon Walker. I’ve had you in my sights for a while.”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Sure you are. You’ll just have to find me first.” Frank had yawned, right in his ear, not bothered in the least. 

“Listen, I’m going to do you a favour. Give me a couple of days and at my earliest convenience I’ll text you Lucifer’s whereabouts and you can go pick him up, ok?” 

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“Okaaay.” Gordon drew out because he’d grown up hearing anything that sounds too good to be true usually is and he was wondering what the catch was. He wondered If Frank was setting him up or selling him out but he quickly dismissed the notion. He believed the old fool. If he said he was on the up and up, Gordon believed him. 

“Oh and Gordon?”

“Yes?”

“You ever call me again and I’ll make sure no one can ever find you, do you understand?”

Frank was gone before Gordon could even respond. 

____________

They don’t talk much on the ride over but it’s Samandriel who seems the most unaffected by it all. He spends the car ride trying to bring Gabriel out of his shell. 

“What’s up with you, kid? You ok in the head?” Gabriel finally asks, eyeing him out of the corner of his eye. 

Samandriel laughs. “Yeah, I am. I’m just, I don’t know how to explain it, but being here with  everyone, I’m good, I’m happy. If I die today I will die happy.”

Gabriel stares at him for a couple of seconds before sighing. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Besides if I shut up I’ll fall asleep. I’m fucking tired. I don’t know how you guys do it.”

“We don’t.” Sam says. “We need sleep too and I was looking forward to it so bad I could taste it but now this.” He gestures vaguely ahead of them. 

“By ‘this’ I assume you’re referring to my incestuous brothers and their taboo love and the fact that my father, who I don’t even remember are all present and too obvious that we can’t just say fuck it, turn around and go home to sleep, right?”

Everyone in the car groans but it’s Cas who actually laughs a little. “That’s a correct assumption.”

“Oh hey, look at that. You actually understood me.”  Sam laughs, tracing something, his name probably, against the window. 

“He understands more than you think.” Gabriel says, reaching down to massage his shin- it hurts, “I like to think he’s just pretending not to so he can be amused when we try to explain it. That’s how he gets his kicks in.”

Samandriel catches Castiel’s eyes in the rearview mirror. The asshat has the audacity to wink at him. 

He can’t help the laugh that escapes him. “Crazy fucker.”

“Aren’t we all?” Asks Castiel, almost lackadaisically but definitely unrepentant.  

They’re there then, if the stopped motorcycle is any indication, and it seems, to Sam anyway, like they take a collective breath. What’s waiting for them inside the nondescript warehouse? The outside is bland (as is the common theme for most warehouses) naught but a sign declaring their presence to be at Milton Enterprises, but what horror or horrors await them on the inside?

The car quiets then. Until it’s nothing but them each with their own hearts and thoughts running rampant and wild. It feels like the air does just before a big storm. Too quiet but with the feel of something big and destructive heading their way. 

“It’s go time, I guess.” Dean says but he sounds unsure and reluctant, like he’d like nothing more than to speed away and yeah, that’s about right. Sam lets out a half grunt in return. A couple of acquiescent murmurs accompany him but then it’s Gabriel pulling him close before he can even open his door. 

“I don’t know why our fates twined together,” he says quickly. His voice is raspy and not a little hoarse but his eyes are clear as he grabs hold of one of Sam’s hands and holds tight. 

“We’ve been inexorably tied and I don’t ever want to lose you. You mean more to me than you can possibly think and I’m-“ his breath hitches and when he blinks his lashes are wet. “My love for you grows every day. You’re my person. Please don’t leave with my heart.” The last part, whispered.  

Sam would be lying if he said he’d expected that. Gabriel seemed to shy away from a lot, still seemed uncertain sometimes and every time Sam did something he’d hesitantly asked, his eyes held their disbelief, like he wouldn’t believe someone- anyone would ever care about anything he desired. 

Sam swallows, hard. “I won’t fail you, not now, not ever. I love you. Hey-,” he nudged Gabriel’s face where it had slightly tilted down and repeats himself when their eyes meet once again. “I love you.”

He can hear Dean hissing at him to hurry the fuck up, having already said his goodbye (or lack thereof) to Cas. Still, he waits until Gabriel nods before releasing his jaw and turning to his brother. 

“You ready?”

Sam nods, his body still warm from Gabriel’s heartfelt confession. He wished he could say that he spent the entire time walking to the entrance paying attention to Dean’s game plan but he’d be lying. Instead, he thought of Gabriel’s eyes and the way the colours of every light they caught reflected prettily in them. He thought of his aureate hair and how it smelled. It seemed that everything he did and everything he was hit Sam’s synapses just right. Like he alone was the power source that Sam needed to come together and work. He-

“Sam!”

“Huh? What? Oh!”

Dean rolled his eyes at the same time that he rolled his shoulders back, an attempt to relax. “Fucking pay attention, will you?” His tone is gruff but underlining it is a warning that only Sam will recognize. One that inspired memories of their crazy ass dad. Dean is warning him that whatever lies beyond the door will most likely never be spoken about. A rigid if not startling dichotomy of everything he swore to when he was sworn into office but he learned the hard way that life wasn’t always about fairness or even due process. Some evil was so great that it had to be eradicated then and there. Lawyers, cops, DA’s, judges, too many could be bought off. Some people didn’t have a redemption arc. Whatever lay behind those doors, it had to be eliminated today.  

Sam threw his brother a look. Sure it was different circumstances but still, “same shit, different day, Dean”, he replied, knowing his brother would know what he meant. Of course he knew that preparation was key so he inhaled as he got back into the persona and image of Sam Winchester. If anyone saw him know they’d be hard-pressed to recognize him. Gone was the stern but humane image that most associated with him, puppy dog eyes replaced with an eerie dissociative stare, shoulders no longer radiating warmth and comfort. In its place stood Sam Winchester. Soldier boy Sam Winchester who learned every dark thing he knew from the streets and the laconic but incredibly vitriolic opinions given to him freely by none other than his sperm donor. 

Two steps ahead of him, Dean turned to ensure his brother was finally ready and almost instantly regretted Gabriel not having come with him. He was well versed with the outcome when Sam’s face had that look on it. He swore silently before nodding at Raphael and Michael and quietly they made their way in. 

_________________

He didn’t have much time. He giggled to himself as he rooted around, the crimson red of his own blood coming down his fingers and hand in rivulets as he tried to pull the bullet out. He couldn’t believe the crazy bitch, otherwise known as his sister had actually managed to hit him. It hit his left side, so no major organs were hit and he dug it out with one hand, the other  put to use holding the rest of his meat back, relishing the pain. He lived for this shit. That’s what made him so damn good at what he did. He understood the limits of the human body and they were far and wide. He smiled a smile of the demented and let another small little giggle slip out. He felt…giddy. 

Self-flagellation was a norm in his life. Routinely beating his shins with wood batons, whipping his back, (he’d even experimented with homemade garrotes until he almost died and  belatedly remembered he was striving to re-educate his nervous system to override his pain receptors,  not beat the all encompassing death) all in an effort to desensitize himself from pain. Rarely did it work. He had to admit that even when he experimented on himself, even when he understood how pain was processed within his body, even when he knew the pain was coming and tried to demand that his nociceptors stand down, it mostly didn’t work. Pain was…complex. But, adrenaline helped. It might hurt later but just then, his fingers had barely even registered. 

He stood where the bullet dropped, hidden in the shadows of teenage trees that wouldn’t have offered any protection at all if it weren’t for their closeness. Hearing the rumble of a close by train he idly looked around for train tracks, still staunching the blood flow when something caught his eye and he realized it wasn’t a train but a car. He could see it, the reflection of the sun shimmering off of it, more visible the closer it got to him. It wasn’t a particularly hot day but the sun was out and this black beauty was waxed within an inch of its life. 

He watched it, riveted by the bass he felt thrumming beneath his feet. It wasn’t music that came out of the car, it was the car itself. Majestic and proud, he could feel the vibrations throughout his body, slightly jarring his teeth and jaw and he leaned into it instinctively, he loved music. And so by the time that the twig snapping registered it was too late. He turned but the taser was already on him and the button had been pressed. He felt his body spasm and a dark wave overtook him. 

Chapter Text

Frank huffed as he dragged Carver Edlund's body to the boot of his car. Son of a bitch was small but sturdy. He could hear the boy's car coming and worked as quickly as his old muscles allowed him, remembering the essentials. Zip ties around the wrists and ankles, a blind fold, duct tape over the mouth. Luckily for him, he'd been in this field a long time and his car's boot also had shackles. The shackles moved along the length of the car and now he brought them both together- an added reinforcement to the wrists and another to the ankles. No way was this bastard escaping him. 

His phone vibrated again but he didn't bother looking at it, he was busy. He knew he'd probably freaked them out using the same number twice, but this was a situation of needs must, and he'd not had the time or opportunity to get a different one between calls. It was a busy day. Between that idiot Gordon whatever his last name was, calling him, acting like they were on the same wavelength, as if! Frank was many things; a MAP was not one of them. Sick bastard. 

In the line of Frank's work, he'd seen many things and had left many things alone- forever a subscriber of 'not my circus, not my monkey', but this family, whew. He shook his head as he locked the trunk. This family had some serious nuts in it. Now, it seemed to all be coming to a head and he was ready for it to be over. He just needed to get his ducks in a row. 

Lucifer Milton might be on a Wanted poster (or three) but if The Blacklist were real, then that's where Carver Edlund belonged. He was an enemy that no one was aware existed. They knew of him of course, Ruthless Killer and all that, but they didn't know how deep his ruthlessness ran, how demented his various atrocities really were, how he was a threat to every living being to exist- human, animal or otherwise. 

He got into his car and had just taken off when the black beast came into view. "Baby" is what they called it. Dean Winchester. A man who had every opportunity, both in nature and nurture, to take after his father and said, "no thanks", all for the love of his brother, Samuel Winchester, aka Sam, aka Sammy. But Frank, who knew the ins and outs of their lives, knew that Dean Winchester was nothing like his dad. They both grew fantastic beards, but their similarities stopped there. Sure, one could say they were both tenacious and stubborn, but the subjects of their stubbornness vastly differed. Where John Winchester was stubborn as in stubbornly believing a 4 or a 6-year-old could be capable of watching and caring over a baby, Dean was stubborn about that same baby having the best life could offer. 

Where John was tenacious in chasing after ghosts, Dean was tenacious in ensuring Sam's brain had all the brain food it could ever need. Dean was the one who had taught Sam how to read, how to write, how to math, how to dress, how to live. And not just to live but to succeed. Frank couldn't help but hope that Sam understood the depths of his brother's love. 

Frank pulled his phone out as he drove, easily pushing keys as he remembered and dialed Gordon's number. 

"Yeah?" Gordon sounded gruff as usual and Frank rolled his eyes before reciting the address Lucifer Milton could be found at. He hung up before Gordon could say anything else and smirked to himself at the thought of Gordon rolling up to a warehouse and finding himself in front of the Winchester brothers. 

Godspeed, he thought, sarcastically. Gordon wouldn't make it out alive and Frank was okay with that. 

He was a fan of Gandolf, a fan of The Hobbit; he oftentimes fell asleep to the sound of it on audio. And as he drove on to his destination, he couldn't help but ponder the truth in the quote, " Many that live, deserve death."

-------------------

Gabriel would definitely be needing a manicure after this was over. He glanced at his shaking hands, his nails bitten down to the stub and he swiped his hands roughly on his pants, his mind running a mile a minute as it imagined what could be happening inside that warehouse. Something in his chest hurt, and it wasn't his heart, his ribs, or anything. No, his mind kept shouting at him to get off, to join the fight. His knee bounced up and down as the scared part of him reminded him that he didn't like fighting while the other side of him screamed that he needed to grow the fuck up and get out there. He took a deep breath and released it, trying to unclench the tense muscles in his shoulders, his traps, his spine. It didn't work. 

"I can't." The words left his mouth before he could stop them. 

"Can't what, brother?" Cas asked. 

"I can't just sit out here while Sam is out there, fighting the battles that our family has brought down. It should be me. Why am I sitting here? Like- like- like a fuckin' coward?" 

Cas flipped down the visor and he met his eyes. "I don't think you're a coward, Gabriel."

"Really? Then why aren't I in there?"

"There's nothing wrong with protecting your psyche."

Gabriel knew the words were meant to relax him- they did the opposite. 

"I know. I know, Cassie. But how am I supposed to sit here by it- while our family- harms Sam's psyche? How am I supposed to stay behind while Sam goes in and mars his soul? How can I be ok with Sam tainting his soul trying to undo the injustice our family has brought down? How? That's so selfish of me."

Cas popped open his door. "Then I shall go with you."

"No." The word came instantly. And though Gabriel understood the hypocrisy between what he was doing and saying and what he was about to ask of Cas, he had to say it anyway. "No, Cassie. This isn't your fight, little brother. Stay here. Watch over Alfie. This-" he waved his hand outward, toward the building, "this has been a long time coming for the four of us, we're going to be done with it today, one way or another and I need you to be out here, safe and untouched by all the blackness in our lives. Can you do that for me, Cassie? Please?"

He watched as Cas closed the door. "Very well, Gabriel. I will stay. Please do not leave any part of yourself in there, Gabriel." and Gabriel understood what he wasn't saying and simply nodded as he opened his own door. 

Hobbling up to the door wasn't going well. His leg still hurt, and moving slowly only gave his mind more time to consider all the worst scenarios. He wondered if he was doing the right thing. He was scared, he was also afraid of being a distraction for Sam- what if he was more of a hindrance than help? What if his sudden appearance caused Sam an injury? Hell, for that matter, what if Dean shot him without stopping to see who it was? He halted, balancing precariously on his good leg, his fingers thrumming against his legs before abruptly deciding that he'd just announce himself and hopefully all would be well. 

With that thought, he yanked on the door and stuck his head in. 

"Don't shoot, Dean-o, it's just me." and then, with courage he absolutely did not feel, he walked in. 

____________________

"You don't think we should have gone?" 

Cas turned to look at his brother, his head tilted in that way that was so quintessentially Cas, it couldn't be replicated. His little brother had been so small when he and Gabriel fled and now, he was a full-grown man. Some of the words that he'd thrown back in their faces rang in Cas's mind. He still didn't understand how Dean would have never left his brother and he'd done that very same thing. Maybe he'd never understand. Maybe he'd just been too young and inexperienced in taking care of someone else whereas Dean had already been experienced with caring over his brother. He shook his head. 'Maybe's' and 'what-ifs' didn't mean a damn thing when you were the one left behind. He could only go forward from here. 

"When we left you, we were really young. We didn't stop to think of the ramifications our actions. We didn't stop to think about taking you. I don't know why we thought you'd be okay without us. But I can tell you that it won't ever happen again. You're here now and though all of us being together in one place is new, I think I'm ok to say I speak for everyone when I say it won't happen again. You're special and you've never been forgotten. Ever."

He shifts in his seat, to better see his brother, "With that said, no, I don't think we should have gone in there. I agree with Gabriel, I think this 'showdown' needs to stay between them, the original four. You, Balthazar and me- we have nothing to do with it. Not only that, but when Dean comes out, he's going to need some light. I intend to be that light. Does that make sense?" He pauses, his brother's hand coming up in a 'stop' motion, his other hand wiping the space below his eyes. 

"Give me a sec". Cas waits patiently as his brother gets himself under control. After a moment, his brother looks back up, his red-rimmed eyes and wet lashes standing out against the white of his face. 

"Thank you for what you said. I've never understood it either, but maybe I was never meant to, maybe it was just something that happened and everyone, overall, was too young to make any good decisions."

Cas nodded. "I agree. I still feel compelled to apologize to you for a lonely existence. No one should ever have to feel like they're alone in the world."

"It's gotten better over the past few years." Cas listened as Alfie went on to explain the changes, albeit slow going, that his brother had undergone. "I can't help but wonder," he ended, "if perhaps it was because all of the reports he got back on you all, showed that everyone was relatively happy. Either way, I'm happy that he reached out to me. We're brothers now and in the grand scheme of things, 21 is not all that old. I have plenty of time to really start living."

Cas opened his mouth, about to respond when a shot fired made them both jump. They glanced at each other and simultaneously yanked their doors open. 

Cas broke into a run and a moment later, a hand slipped into his and together, both he and his "Sammy" ran towards the danger. 

_________________

His aunt's voice cut through the haze Lucifer felt. It sounded distant but familiar, a lifeline he didn't understand quite yet. It had been many years since he spoke or saw his aunt. He felt a hiccup cut through his chest and in his heart of hearts understood that he was crying but didn't understand why. Was it the sheer relief at subconsciously understanding that if she was there, it meant his dad wasn't? Her voice, still as rich as he ever remembered it, washed over him but the words were muffled, tangled in a fog too thick to pierce. The sound of footsteps followed, indistinct but close, yet their significance barely registered. His mind felt sluggish, like it was crawling back into itself, but still too afraid to fully step in, as if the safety of detachment was preferred over the chaos of the present. It clung to its distance, a fragile barrier between him and reality. 

Lucifer's father, gone for so long, or maybe merely gone long, loomed in his thoughts, doing what he did best: wreaking havoc.

Voices that seeped through made his brain fumble for clarity. The reconciliation with the present came in waves, weak and hesitant. His body still felt foreign, stiff and awkward. The world around him was starting to take shape, but it was still a blurry reflection. One that couldn't bet trusted yet. 

Slowly, his mind reorganized itself. His auntie's voice- unfamiliar over time and yet so familiar and comforting, began to cut through. The sound of footsteps following, growing louder as if the world was reassembling itself in fragments. His mind clung to the half-awareness, still cautious, but something had caught its attention, and it was impossible to ignore. 

It was more voices, closer than ever, and then a touch that made him jump where he sat. He felt his head gingerly lifted and through half slit eyes saw the person he hadn't seen in so long. And just like that, Lucifer was back. He smiled ruefully, would have shaken his head if he could. "You've always been adept at grounding me, brother." His voice sounded rusty, probably from all the screaming. 

Michael grimaced at whatever he saw on his face. "Looks like it's been a while since you landed."

It's said solemnly and quietly, and Lucifer recognizes the tightness in his chest now. It's repentance and self-loathing. Someone, he realizes, has unbound him. He tries to move his hands onto his lap, and it feels like they're on pins and needles. He course-corrects and brings them up to his face, rubbing his eyes. They simultaneously feel tight and wet. It hurts to have eyeballs right then. Of course, it would have been a lot worse to have had them scooped out. When he opens them again, he sees them- a semi-circle in front of him. His auntie Amara, Raphael, Michael, Dean and Sam Winchester. He speaks to Raphael first. 

"I'm glad you ran," he says, through the tightness in his throat. "Father was not- he was not a good person. Next to him I'm Mother Teresa." He hears Dean Winchester cough-laugh, but he didn't mean it to be funny. He just meant it. A glance at Michael's face proves that he understands. He turns to his auntie. "Thank you for coming when you did. I don't know how much longer I would have lasted." 

She hums in his direction but says nothing. She's cleaning her weapon and as he watches her put it on the table next to him, his peripherals catch something move just past her and for a second it feels like hell, like maybe his father has returned, but just behind Trevor's body, Gabriel appears and Lucifer stares at him. 

"You always were a ray of sunshine. Never let anyone take that away from you. Especially not me. Not Raphael and never Father."

No one has spoken to him yet but he's ok with that. If he were them, he wouldn't know what to say to himself either. He turns to face Raphael once more. 

"Do the crime, serve the time." He tries for a wink but doubts it comes out, his eyes as swollen as they are. 

Finally, he looks at Dean. 

"If you find my father, show no mercy. If he catches you before you catch him, he will torture you. He's skilled in that. When I was three, he made me help him torture my best friend, Tommy." He makes an aborted motion with his hands. "This happened because I didn't want to remember any of the events, and he wanted to relive them with me. He's evil. If I have been called the devil incarnate, then he must be pure sin incarnate. Or maybe he's God. A cruel, capricious God. Either way, don't hesitate." He nods firmly to himself, done with his speech. 

The pins and needles feeling in his arms is finally gone and he can move them. He faces his family. 

"Once upon a time, I loved you all. Then Father happened and I lost it. I don't think I can ever regain my humanity again so I'm doing what has to be done when dogs go bad."

Lucifer's hand reaches out, he grabs the weapon and brings it up to his temple. 

"Be good to each other." and then he pulls the trigger. 

Chapter Text

The silence is deafening. Gabriel stands there in shock, his face tucked into Sam's chest where he's been unceremoniously grabbed and tucked into. Inside his chest, his heart thuds erratically and his mouth feels dry. He's both much too present and much too far away. His mind is a meme- the one with the black scribbles.

Michael speaks first. "Fare thee well, brother."

The door startles Gabriel. It slams open and he's jostled as Sam spins them, Gabriel's body moved to the side, almost behind him. Sam's protecting him with his body. Gabriel can't let him do that. He pushes off of him and stands on his own. It's Cassie and Samandriel. 

"What's happened? Dean, are you ok?"

To the right, Dean moves forward, holstering his gun with one hand, the other outstretched to his brother. "No, Sam!"

Sam lifts his hands, his weapon dangling uselessly from one. "I know, I know. Geez." He blows his hair out of his face before holstering his weapon as well. 

"Thank you, Dean. It would have been very unpleasant to have to shoot your brother if he shot my nephew."

Dean turns slowly. "Lady, I don't know who you are, but I will shoot you where you stand. Do not threaten my brother."

"For the love of- no one is shooting anyone. Can we move on, please? No one else needs to see this." Sometimes Gabriel's mouth moves without his consent. Nonetheless, he counts it as a win when he hears Sam snort next to him. He looks up at him to see that dimple out and about and feels his heart rate accelerate. 

"I get to have you now. No threats hanging over our heads, no more crime and drama and fighting and bullshit." The grin widens. Sam's arm comes around him, his neck and he draws him closer before gently kissing his head. Gabriel sighs with contentment. He's happy. He doesn't know about Michael and can't even begin to guess how Raphael feels but personally? He's happy. His brother was his brother but also his brother had stopped being his brother. And in a bizarre twist, Gabriel was happy he'd done that to himself. What else was he going to do? He was going to end up dead one way or the other and at least now, they didn't have to lie about the way things went down, nor did anyone have to carry the weight of taking his life on their chest. 

A phone rings and everyone knows it's Dean's because a.) he's the only one who carries it around with the volume on and b.) his ring tone is set to Led Zeppelin. 

"Charles?"

A few "mmhmm's" later, he says, "yeah, that was us, well, not us, but they did it to themselves. Saved us all the trouble- yeah, ok, come in." 

The door opens slowly, and the detectives walk in. "It's Charles", Dean announces, unnecessarily, as they come into view. Gabriel watches as the detective's blanch. He knows they make for a horrific scene. He sighs. Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, he's tired. He feels weary. and done. 

Luckily for them, Detective Turner seems to notice the exhaustion that seems to hit all of them at once and takes pity on them. Pulls a recorder out of his pocket and motions it towards them. "I don't usually do this. But seeing as you all look dead on your feet, I'm going to record this and format it later and you can come in and sign a statement. Who wants to go first?" 

It's only in the ensuing silence that Gabriel registers a quiet sob. Almost instantly it registers who it is. Raphael. He looks at Dean, looks at Michael and both of them look uncomfortable and he knows he's going to have to be the one to deal with it. Except Castiel speaks up, "You're going to want to handcuff him. That's Raphael, Lucifer's right-hand man...and lover, seemingly." A slight crease appears between his furrowed brow and if the situation weren't the farthest thing from comical, Gabriel might have laughed. Dean, however, has no qualms with it. He scoots over and nudges Gabriel. "'member when you told Cas Sam and I were codependent?" He nudges again. "What about that, huh? How the tables have turned, huh?" 

Gabriel sighs and rubs his eye with his fist. "Deanie, you're Cassie's soulmate and I love you, but I swear to god if you poke me with your pointy elbow one more time." He shakes his fist at him. "Pow. Right in the kisser."

"Have you no mercy for my plight?" Raphael cuts in. Before Gabriel, or anyone can respond, Dean does. 

"Not particularly, no. You and Lucifer have consistently and maliciously attempted to harm us and it's Christmas and look where we are. Because of you."

"How did you think this would end?" Cas inserts. "Surely, when you started this twisted little game, you knew it was going to eventually come to an end. You just didn't think it would be you."

"You both made the first move." Sam points out. 

"Yeah," Dean agrees, "we were just over here, living our best life, just vibing and you had to come and muck it all up and now you have the audacity to expect us to feel sorry for you?"

"Sorry, bucko," Gabriel finally finds his voice. "I'm with them."

Raphael's eyes roam over them, stopping on Amara's. "Auntie Amara." He mutters, recognition more than a greeting. 

She doesn't say hi back, looks at Detective Bradbury instead. "Perhaps this nice officer can put you in their car? They can question you to their heart's content after they get everyone else's statement." The you don't have anywhere else to be anyway isn't said but heard nonetheless. They watch as Charley motions toward Raphael and starts guiding him out the door. "Charles." Dean speaks up. "Don't take him out there uncuffed." From the surprised look on the detectives face, she'd forgotten that crucial point and Gabriel feels relief at Dean's ability to see and consider things most of them would be hard-pressed to. 

Properly handcuffed, Raphael and Charlie continue making their way outside. He comes back into himself to find that Dean-o and Cassie have already wandered over to Detective Turner. Dean's pointing at himself and Castiel is gazing fondly at him. It makes him look at Sam...who is already looking at him. He slips his hand into Sam's much larger paw. 

"I love you, Samshine." Sam huffs and runs a hand through his hair before responding. "I love you too. I'm also glad this is over. How do you feel about-?" He points behind them with his head. Gabriel grimaces. "Trying not to think about it if I'm being honest." Sam sighs. "Yeah, me too. I feel bad because ultimately he was your brother and I know once upon a time you loved him. But..." his voice trails off and his face grows sorry. "I can't help but also feel relieved that it wasn't any of us that had to pull the trigger, you know?" Gabriel's heart clenches, not because of his brother but because he feels so damn grateful to have won Sam's heart. It's so big and full of love and warmth and he just feels so damn lucky. He smiles, feeling a tear leak from his eyes, "I feel so-" 

Gabriel's words halt abruptly when a gunshot reverbrates through the warehouse and everyone scrambles. They hear a shout and Dean's pushing the door open, Sam hot on his heels. 

Outside, Detective Bradbury lies on the group, blood pooling at her head and Gabriel's blood turns cold. 

"Charles! What happened Charles!" Her eyes flutter weakly. "Had- another- gun. Quick- move-ments. Ran." Detective Turner is shouting into his coms and the world tunnels for Gabriel. He wants to run. Wants to wait until it's over. Wants to not watch anyone else he cares about get hurt. His vision starts turning dark and he can feel himself breathing faster, the inability to catch his breath at odds with how fast his short gasps are coming. He feels pressure on his body and a voice speaks directly into his ear. 

"Count with me, Gabriel." Sometime taps on his chest. "One and two and three and four. Again. Count with me. One and two and three and four." and it jars a memory within Gabriel. In his mind's eye, he can feel himself pirouetting, can see the pink shoe with butterflies on his stockinged feet. The moment lasts however long it lasts and when he next blinks it's Michael warm breath on his face, his eyes roam all over Gabriel, and he's still counting. It's his arm that Gabriel felt the pressure of- it's around Gabriel's neck. He blinks again. "What the hell?"

Michael's mouth tips up at the corner. "You were hyperventilating. Or maybe it was a panic attack." 

"No. I mean. I used to do ballet?"

He watches as his brother's eyes widen. "Did you not know that?"

"I think I had forgotten. But then when you started counting, the picture came to mind."

"Yeah," Michael says, "where do you think I learned how to count like that? My ass?"

Gabriel squints his eyes at him. "Maybe. I don't know your life."

His face softens. "Don't worry, little brother. You will."

The sirens screaming through the air, announcing their arrival shifts their attention back to the situation at hand. It's still macabre but Gabriel feels better and without thinking too hard about it, he slips his hand into his brothers. He squeezes and after a moment, he feels a squeeze back. He lifts his eyes to the sky and, internally, gives thanks. 

Chapter Text

It doesn't take much for Sam to convince the others to hold a funeral. There are several reasons this is a good idea. For starters, he wants to give the brother's, his now extended family, some sort of closure but he also feels that if they tell the right circles, some of the people who show up might very well be people that have long been sought. The second item on his agenda isn't verbalized but the Novak's aren't stupid. They, along with Dean, look at him knowingly before easily acquiescing. 

Originally, Sam had suggested waiting until the beginning of the new year, so the holidays will be over and whatnot, but Michael says no. "Let's just get it over with. That way we can start the year anew and with all this behind us." Sam's a little surprised that he thinks he has an opinion but, then again, none of them really do (in regard to Lucifer) and Michael was his twin. That's good enough for him. 

The funeral is set to be that evening and detectives Turner and Bradbury have set up a few officers in the mix both in case anyone they want to question, or arrest show up or in case someone starts a fight. Sam just hopes it isn't a gun fight. Either way, he'll be fully prepared. Gabriel still doesn't like fighting, and Sam is more than willing to carry if it means it'll give Gabriel a chance to get to safety. He's grateful for Gabriel. Back at the warehouse, he'd felt himself slipping back into the child soldier he'd grown up as. It was a version of himself he hated- the one who shrank around John, instinctively reverting to that cold, primal state. And yet, there was a strange freedom in it. When he was in that mode, nothing else existed. No relationships. No past. No future. Just him, the bullet and the target. It was simple, uncomplicated. But it was also suffocating. Coming back to himself, to the man he wanted to be, was never easy. Still, just by being there, quietly beside him, Gabriel anchored him, keeping him from crossing that fragile line back into darkness.

That grounding presence meant more to Sam that he could ever say. And he wasn't the only one who noticed. Even between the Novak brothers, Gabriel ability to walk among his brothers' fractured dynamics and interweave himself into each relationship pairing was remarkable. In many ways, the brothers' relationships had remained the same. Castiel would always be loyal to Gabriel, Samandriel would always be loyal to Michael. With Lucifer out of the picture and Raphael in the wind, Balthazar seemed the odd man out, but in reality, he wasn't. Not really. Balthazar seemed to have latched on to Cas. If Cas agreed to do something, then Balthazar was in too. He explained that he doesn't have much of a sense of morality so he's using Cas, who according to most of them, is the most innocent little bee who must be protected at all costs.

Of course, Sam doesn't fully understand Balthazar's alleged inability to discern between good and bad and so he subtlety pried. Dean had snorted, always able to see right through him but thankfully Balthazar was willing to engage. Balthazar is interesting to him. His point of view on the world scratches a small itch in Sam's brain he'd not been previously aware of. Balthazar doesn't see the world in terms of right and wrong, black and white. To him morality is a spectrum, a shifting palette of greys where context outweighs absolutes. 

When Sam had tried to discuss, (he didn't argue, no matter what Dean said) this subject, Balthazar had sighed. "Listen, Sam. I grew up in the Red-Light District. Those concepts had no place there. Morality wasn't ignored, it simply didn't exist. The world is a murky expanse of greys and choices aren't guided by notions of good or bad but rather by necessity and survival." and well, what could Sam say to that?

To say the least, the family Gabriel came from was unlike any Sam had ever known. A group of brothers who had never really grown up together, each clinging to the roles they had played in isolated parts. Now, thrown together, they were still trying to find their footing, their birth order rearranging itself in real time. And Gabriel- chaotic, unpredictable Gabriel- had somehow managed to walk between it all, uniting them even when they almost clashed.

The overall concepts of child psychology stay in Sam's head and two days later, whilst at work, he finds himself scrolling through the admissions website of the University of California-Berkeley. They're ranked number three in the nation. He chews his bottom lip in contemplation. He'd always thought he'd be a lawyer forever, he loves the law, loves the black and white of it. But what if, instead of helping people after they'd already done the bad thing, he helped them before? Help mold them from the get-go, so they didn't get to a place where they needed a lawyer? 

His leg jiggles as he thinks and it's almost a relief when Donnie pokes his head through the door. "Hey, boss. Got a minute?" 

"Yes!" He lets out a breath and responds like a normal human being. "Yes, of course, Donnie, come in, take a seat."

It's just the reprieve he needs. Donnie goes over all the nuances of the case. It's almost for nothing really, what with Lucifer being dead and whatnot, but there are still plenty of players who had a hand in all of his activities that aren't dead. Ruby, of course, being one of them. Her case isn't being handled by Sam, conflict of interest and all. He briefly wonders if he should be handling any of them but some of them are far enough from him that he feels good about it. The evidence given to him by the PI's is staggering. He ends up keeping Frank as a contact and shudders to think of Frank and Donnie ever meeting. 

At home, things have calmed down considerably. Most people are still enjoying the high of the season while he and others are preparing for the new year. His brother, surprisingly (or maybe not so), has told them he's going back to school. Engineering. And Sam can see it. Dean's going to do a hell of a job. Raphael and Chuck or Carver are still in the wind, as is Amara, who took off as soon as their backs were turned. Sam is pretty sure that the brothers could probably find or get in contact with her if they really wanted to and Sam has a sneaking suspicion that if asked, Cas would agree to her going to his and Dean's wedding. 

Balthazar is still in the hospital but is recovering nicely. He's slated to leave on December 31st but until then Michael has spent quite a bit of time with him, accompanied most of the time by Samandriel. And the previous night, Sam had caught sight of Michael's phone, and he was looking up homes in the area. Massive homes, which leads Sam to deduce that maybe Gabriel's idea had caught his eye after all. 

All in all, things are looking up. And maybe that's what has Sam thinking of his own life and what he wants out of it. He likes law. But Gabriel has shown him that we all only get one life, and no one tells us what to do with that one life but ourselves. Life is, Sam muses, his feet up on his desk, locked at the ankle, fleeting. It's fragile, like our bodies. We make protect it, yes, but we should also grow it to be the best body it can be. Sam could be influenced by his brother's (and mate's) eating habits, but he doesn't. Similarly, he shouldn't let anyone dictate what he does with his life, including himself. He'd listened to the noise, the weight of the expectations set both by him and a little by the ones around him. The wall around his life had been placed there by him. The chains of doubt had been woven by him and so had the fear that he'd allowed to dictate the shape of his dreams. 

He places his feet down and stands, feeling himself feel righted. No more. He was more than the boundaries he'd set. More than the voice of the sperm donor that occasionally made itself heard in his head. And if he heard it, there was no telling how much louder it was in Dean's. Grabbing his phone, he taps a quick message out to his brother. He keeps it short and sweet and if the lack of reply is any indicator, his brother understood exactly what he meant. 

I thought about life today. About how I've always had every opportunity to do this and more with it because of others, namely you, doing everything in their power to help me win. I think you're going to make a great engineer. I think you're going to knock everyone off their feet with your genius. And I hope you know that when you struggle, when you hear dad telling you that you won't make it, you'll let our voices telling you that you can, be louder. Love you D. 

Chapter Text

It's December 31st and Gabriel is beyond ready for the day to be over. He isn't fed up or anything, in fact, life is looking pretty good. There's just something...electric about entering a new year, in his humble opinion. Unlike most people, Gabriel is a Monday person. He enjoys knowing that it's the start of a new week. Another opportunity for him to be better than he was the previous week. It's a new start. And a new year? Gabriel just knows that tomorrow, when he wakes up, he'll breath in deep and take in all the excitement of a new year, all the hope and anticipation it'll bring. He doesn't much do New Year's Resolutions, but he does do one big thing that he tries to stick with and at least be someone proficient in before the year is up. That's how he learned all the languages he knows. This year it was Italian (mi chiamo Gabriel), last year it was ASL, this upcoming year he's thinking Braille. Maybe shorthand. That could be fun. Ooh, maybe stenography. That seems complicated but easy all at the same time. 

A pained grunt pulls him out of his musings, and he bites his lip as he observes the scene before him. Sammy and Dean-o are helping Balthy off his hospital bed and onto the wheelchair. Normally, the hospital staff would do it, but Balthazar had explained that he doesn't much like strangers touching him and could they please do it and being the good, kind people that they are, of course they agreed.  Gabriel had snuck several peeks at his brother's chart and knows how close he came to dying permanently. If it weren't for Dean, they'd have had to attend two funerals although this one would have hurt a lot more. Lucifer was- once upon a time, Gabriel had loved his brother wholeheartedly. And he has to focus really hard on not thinking about how his dad irrevocably destroyed him because then that makes him want to cry over his dead brother, who he once loved wholeheartedly, and, in the words of the estimable Shakespeare, that way madness lies. So, long story short, for the sake of his own sanity, Gabriel has to choose to remember his brother as the rest of the world will- a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad man. 

Gabriel exhales and pushes all the thoughts back as he realizes his brother is looking up at him expectantly. "You comin'?" Gabriel nods and pushes off the wall. "I'd say lead the way, but it'd be the blind leading the blind." Balthazar snorts and rolls his eyes. "I've navigated whole countries without a map or GPS, a hospital could never hold me back." Gabriel grins. "Cool. Hope you can roll yourself cos my hand hurts." He receives a raised brow in return. "I had a whole sink inside my back." "Pfft. It barely touched you, I read the chart." 

"Children." Sam interjects. "I'm pushing the chair, Gabriel. Behave."

On cue, Dean speaks up. "Oh, behave." 

While Gabriel cracks up, Sam walks away, pushing Balthazar and muttering about how they're all children and something about Austin Powers being an idiot. It just makes Gabriel laugh harder while the attending nurse looks on in amusement. 

After a moment, Gabriel rushes after Sam and Balthazar, Dean in tow. As they speed past the waiting room, Gabriel is cognizant of the double takes that Dean receives. He certainly understands them. All of them, even Dean who swears he couldn't care less, dress somewhat carefully, or at least with an idea of what they're going for in mind. That day, Dean is wearing relaxed Defender jeans, they're light wash and double cuffed at the bottom. He has a creme colour hoodie on, but he wouldn't be Dean without flannel, and he's thrown that over the hoodie. Gabriel smiles. "You're a good-looking SOB," he tells him, "Look at you, turning heads left and right." Dean scowls. "Stuff it, short stuff. Besides, half of those people were looking at you." "Nah," Gabriel says easily. "People don't almost sprain their necks to get a second glimpse of me. Now you on the other hand..." 

"Sammmm," Dean calls out, extending his 'm's'. "Gabriel is doubting his beauty. Swap me with and come talk to him about self-esteem or whatever." He edges past Gabriel to grab a hold of the chair, jostling it in the process. "Fuckin' ow!" "Sorry, bro, that was my bad." Dean tells Balthazar. 

Whatever Balthazar responds is lost on Gabriel as Sam has reached him. "What's this I hear about low self-esteem?" Gabriel looks up at Sam and suddenly feels a little shy. It's not his looks, really it isn't, it's just the magnitude of all that Sam is that has him feeling bashful. All that Sam has overcome, continues to overcome, and, ok, maybe a little bit because of how he also continuously turns heads. Almost as if he's reading his mind, Sam sighs. "It's not me, not really, it's just because I'm tall." "And the hair." Sam laughs, "ok. Maybe a little bit because of the hair." "And the dimples." Sam smiles. "Gabriel." 

Gabriel smushes his face into Sam's chest, his words barely comprehensible. "The only thing I've got going for myself is my name. I have a good name. Gabriel. It sounds sweet."

"Sweetheart, all of you is sweet. All of you is a different shade of honey. Your eyes are amber honey, your hair is golden honey, your skin is light honey. You're beautiful and sweet. From your name all the way to your toesies."

"Gag me," Dean calls out, making Gabriel laugh. 

"Bees gather honey, Dean-o."

Dean's face scrunches. "Ew, Gabe. It's giving Lucifer and Raphael, stop." 

"When'd you learn how to talk like a Zenner anyway, Dean?" Sam holds Gabriel tight, even as he squirms, presumably to go punch Dean right on the kisser for speaking such a thing aloud. 

"What? Like it's hard?" Dean does a mock hair flip. 

"Jesus. I literally can't." Gabriel goes slack in Sam's arms. 

Dean snorts. "Don't hate me cos you ain't me."

Gabriel is about to retort when the sound of Baby coming around the corner calls their attention. Gabriel gets a kick out of how Sam is always so dumbfounded that Dean apparently has no trouble letting Cassie drive her. But honestly, Gabe gets it. Sam calls her "it" like a total noob. The disrespect is real. 

He watches as Dean carefully opens the door, ensuring he doesn't accidentally hit his brother. His heart clenches with warmth and love. He loves Dean for caring for his brother. Earlier that morning, Dean had Sam hold Balthazar up so he didn't have to work so hard to hold himself up and then he clothed him. Gabriel's sure his brother will be back in his three-piece suits in no time at all, but for now, he looks comfortable and still stylish in the Everlane sweatsuit Dean picked out for him. When Balthy had stared at it, Dean had said, "Feel it, feel it, you'll love it." Gabriel had also felt it and could confirm it was very comfy. It was soft and absolutely perfect for Balthazar. Dean had gotten the suit in blue, the Converse on his feet matched the cream coloured drawstrings on the hoodie and pants and he'd finished the look off with an ultra-thin gold chain that just barely peeked out from the top of the hoodie. Gabriel's pretty sure that necklace came from a women's jewelry department somewhere and even for that he's grateful. Grateful that someone knows his brother. 

"It's nice to be known." He tells Sam, who looks at him somewhat questioningly. "His clothes. Dean knows my brother."

"Just like you. You matched my beanie to my car, remember?" Sam pushes a wayward strand of hair behind Gabe's ear. "You knew me before I knew myself." 

Gabriel smiles, mostly to himself. Sam does make a good point. From the moment he met Sam, he was immediately fond of Sam's dimples, height, hair, eyes, brain, etc. But the purple? Yes, his Samshine is correct. He got it based on an educated guess that if he had a purple car it stood to reason that he liked the color. 

Gabriel and Sam walk around to the other side of Baby and get in once Balthazar has been situated. 

"Any news on Raphael? Or father?"

Dean responds, shaking his head. "Raphael doesn't surprise me, he could easily become a ghost but Carver? Michael said your aunt had told him she clipped him with a bullet. We've checked the hospitals though and the detectives have kept an eye on them too. No one matching his description has gone to anything so much as a UC. I'm thinking he just took off." 

"Mmm." Balthazar muses, "I'm glad we all came out of it relatively ok at least."

"Yeah. So, hey, how are you and Milo?" Gabriel smiles as he snuggles in further into Sam's side. Dean's not usually so talkative, if he's doing it now, he must just be trying to take Balthazar's mind off the pain he's undoubtedly in from all the bouncing around they're doing. It's not Cassie's fault, rather the roads and their innumerable and currently unavoidable potholes. Damn traffic. 

Balthy must be feeling pretty good though because when he responds, he doesn't sound pained. "Yes. I like him. I don't know if he's Mr. Right but he's at least Mr. Right-For-Now and that's more than I've had in a long time."

"What's wrong with him?"

"Nothing. But I don't think I can believe that someone who used to like Gabriel could like me too. I mean to say we're different is a huge understatement."

"And I don't want to be the person someone settles for." He adds as an afterthought. 

Gabriel straightens, but before he's even opened his mouth, Cas steps in. "I, too, am different from the people Dean has dated."

Dean looks like he's about to protest before relenting. "Yanno, Cas has a good point. I was with people who were right for that moment in my life, wherever I was, but they weren't long term people. In Cas, a completely different type of person, I found the person I was meant to be with. While I may have momentarily thought they were attractive, it was all superficial. With Cas, I thought he was hot, obviously, but more than that, I was enamoured with who he is on the inside. He takes care of bees and he takes care of me. He is a pacifist and that helps me stay calm too. He believes in me so thoroughly, that I can't help but believe in myself too. In Cas, I found not only who I was meant to be with but who I was meant to be. And I wouldn't trade him for anyone in this world or the next."

He catches them all staring, flushes and stutters. "I'm just- I'm just saying, he could, like, uh, totally be the guy, just gotta give 'em a chance."

Sam steps in to help his brother. "Forget Dean. I didn't even like men." Most of them start laughing, effectively dissipating the tension and Dean shoots him a grateful smile. 

Not long after, they arrive at the house that Cas and Dean live in. The rest of their family is there, a quiet welcome home party for Balthazar. Michael and Samandriel are already waiting outside, his older brother wearing a beautiful burnt-red Tom Ford suit that Gabriel recognizes from the summer collection while the latter is sporting grey chinos, a denim shirt and a burnt-orange sports coat. Michael stands with one hand in his pocket, a chain hangs out of it. Gabriel would bet dollars to donuts that he's got a pocket watch. "Supercilious bastard." He says, fondly. He loves his brothers but damn if they aren't all a little too privileged (him included).

He makes a mental note to suggest starting a charity, funded by all of them, for children around the world who are thrown out of their parent's lives and need help. It'll be similar to the Trevor Project. They need to put their money to good use.  

Michael rushes over and opens the door for Balthazar as Sam is unbuckling him. 

Gabriel stands back and watches as Cassie and Samandriel catch up to them. It does something to him to watch his family here, all together, helping get their brother inside. The glint from the sun beams him in the eyes and he looks up, Sam's looking at him. And Gabriel loves him. 

He beams at him and then, closing the door behind him, he scrambles out of Baby and catches up to them. They're his brothers. And to quote The Hollies, "he ain't heavy, he's my brother."

Chapter Text

Gordon ground his teeth as he paced the cabin he was staying in. Damn that Devereaux. Him and his fucking games. He was torn between wanting to teach him a lesson and acknowledging he was slightly afraid of the man. He ran over his head as he considered his options. If he'd just waited until he got the money before playing with it, he would have been fine. Alas, he was no stranger to the bookies that were leftovers of a bygone era. The mob, the 'famiglia', wasn't as it once was, what with the emergence of the cartels, but they were still the mob, for fucks sake. And he may or may not have placed a slighter higher than normal (or average) wager on a game that he ended up losing. 50k. If he didn't come up with the 50k (plus interest) he was going to end up wearing cement shoes. 

He wanted to, so very badly, blame Devereaux and be done with it but in his heart of hearts he knew it was his fault. There really was only one thing he could do. He'd wait until New Year's Day (because people were more amenable to saying yes on holidays) and then ask Dean Winchester for a favour. All he needed with the location of Lucifer's body. Honestly, he couldn't believe his bad luck. By the time he'd made it to the warehouse, only a few cops still mingled around. He'd not even bothered asking them where Lucifer was, the cops hated him. He'd impeded on their investigations one too many times and as a result, they dealt with him to the extent required by law but gave him nothing else. He scowled. Fuckin' pigs. He coulda been a fucking cop too but they made pennies. Who wanted pennies when there were millions out there to be had? Hell, he could have been rich if it weren't for his affinity for gamblin'. 

An unexpected noise outside of the cabin made him startle. He wanted so badly to go peer out the window but knew that if it were any of the mob enforcers he'd just end up with a hole in the head. No. He forced himself down onto the ground. He needed to think. He was only three days late on paying up. He didn't think the mob would send someone after only three days, but he wasn't sure, he'd never been late before. He considered that perhaps it was that the mob had little to no income coming in lately. That had to make them desperate. Desperation was an emotion he was well acquainted with. He'd grown up on the outskirts of the Hamilton Township in New Jersey. More than he liked to admit, or remember, desperation had driven him to scavenge scraps from trash bins. 

A few seconds later, he realized he hadn't heard any further noise and decided it must have been an animal. Slowly, he rose off the floor and went to lie on the threadbare sofa. He only had a couple more days to wait and then he'd go out, find Dean, talk to Dean, convince Dean, claim the body and pay off his debtors. Then, and only then, could he relax. 

____________________________

Frank hauled the body out of the trunk, ignoring the giggles. He would have preferred grunts of pain; he would have relished them actually. Instead, this psychopath was giggling. 

"I reckon it's a good thing my sister died after what you did to her. I'd dare say it's preferable to imagining her living a life where she could forever hear your giggle in the recesses of her mind." 

"That explains the kidnapping," Carver let out another insane giggle. "Let me guess- this is the part where you torture me?"

"Yep."

"I look forward to it."

Frank didn't answer, although he did allow himself a tiny smile. He was going to torture Carver but probably not in the way he imagined. No, he'd received a file earlier that day, a PowerPoint that he was betting would knock that smile right off Carver's face. Because there was nothing a psychopath understood less than love. 

Guiding him through the cabin, though none too gently, Frank deposited Carver in the chair he'd designated just for this. Carver lashed out but Frank was ready, anticipating the move. He blocked the clumsy hit and punched back with force. The ensuing trickle of blood that ran down Carver's nose felt good. The psychotically insane "person" let loose another giggle, but Frank had grown immune to the sound. He snapped the restraints closed just as Carver started thrashing.  Rocking back on his heels, Frank delivered a backhand that healed something in his soul. "Settle down now, boy," he said, gruffly. "Fun ain't even started yet." 

Once Frank had gotten Carver's arms over his head and tied to the back of the chair, he stood back and watched as Carver tried to get himself out. "You're not getting out of this," Frank said, "but it's fun to watch you try." Reaching into his back pocket his pulled out a small remote. It went to the TV monitor that hung on the wall opposite of Frank. He pressed play and watch the emotions run across Carvers face. He didn't understand it, he couldn't understand the love, but that didn't mean he didn't know what it was. "What is this?" He asked finally. Frank scratched his elbow before shrugging. "Thought I'd show you what you'd missed out on."

The PowerPoint was a slide show. It depicted a younger Dean and Cas, in the early stages of their friendship but already so devoted to one another. Dean handing Castiel a beer, a quizzical look on Castiel's face, a fond smile at Dean's. The next was of Cas, bent over, with a cue in his hands, looking up at Dean, who hovered over him, his hands placed gently over Cas's. Frank had never sought love, he hadn't particularly been a believer but these two...he absently shook his head, they'd shown a devotion to one another that was unreal. The epitome of through thick and thin, from their friendship to their falling outs, to their love and their relationship, they went through everything together. They loved each other. Through it all. 

Frank remembered the early stages of his surveillance, remembered seeing the proof through the pictures and thinking, someone's getting laid tonight, because if anyone ever looked at him the way they looked at each other...

Carver breaks him out of his muses. "Castiel," he scoffs, "He came off the line with a crack in his chassis." 

"No." Frank says. "He didn't. You just wanted them all to be malleable and Cas isn't. He marches to the beat of his own drum, and he doesn't apologize for it." The slideshow goes to pictures of Cas graduating college, his cap in his hand, his head in its signature tilt as he squints up at the rest of the caps being thrown up in the air. Undoubtedly wondering why they were being thrown. There's a grainy picture that follows- Cas in front of his board, presenting his thesis. Cas the day he received his PhD. Cas smiling his tiny Cas smile as he gets embraced by Dean who could not have a bigger smile on his face, grinning broadly at Cas's win. 

He points as the pictures change, "Here we have Sam Winchester and Gabriel." "Gabriel," Carver scoffs. "The little engine that couldn't."

"Wrong again." Frank corrects him. "More like the little engine that could." 

He shows off everything that Gabriel has accomplished including a picture that Gabriel probably doesn't know exist, but one where he's in scrubs, a stethoscope around his neck. "You took lives, but Gabriel saves the people around him, as reticent as he is. He doesn't like fighting." 

"I know", Carver says through clenched teeth. "You know how many times I tried to get him interested in cock fighting or dog fighting or anything fighting? He's a coward." 

"Nah," Frank says easily. "He just doesn't want to hurt people or beings- he doesn't want them to hurt, period. Gabriel routinely visits small kids in cancer centers, spends most of his time with the ones who have little to no visitors. He visits dog shelters, gives them money to not but the animals to sleep, in fact-," he points at the next slide, "he spends almost forty percent of his income on donations." He sounds smug but can't help but twist the knife just a little. "You tried so hard to make him like you and he saw you and said no."

"I'm not watching this shit anymore." Carver closes his eyes, making Frank smile. "I was hoping you'd say that." Walking behind Carver, Frank grabs the stand that's hidden in the shadows of the room. The wheels squeak and he takes it over and he likes it. Adds a little something to the creepiness of the room. He hums and he puts it in place. "Now, now. Quit squirming. You'd think you of all people would appreciate the forethought I put into this." Placing the rim over Carver's head, he brings down the instruments over each side. "I haven't exactly done this before, but I did watch a YouTube on it. I apologize in advance if I accidentally blind you."

Then, after the eye clamps are securely on each of Carver's eyes, he reaches for the remote. "Now that I have your full attention, let's start over, shall we?" 

and with that, Frank stays in the room with Carver for three days, the slideshow on a loop, and when Carver begs him to stop, he declines his request. After the third day, with Carver sitting on his own mess, hungry and thirsty and head loopy from watching the same thing for almost a hundred hours, Frank sits up. "Hmm, it's New Year's Eve. This was my present to myself and to the Winchester boys, even if they don't know about it. But all good things must come to an end. Time to call in your calvery and make myself scarce."

He restarts the show one more time before pulling a new burner out of his go bag. It rings twice before the voice on the other end picks up. He walks over to Carver, ensuring the restraints are still working properly and that Carver won't be able to get out of them. It doesn't take long. 

"Yeah, Detective Bradbury? I have a pickup for you and Detective Turner." He rattles off the address. "I'd advise you to wait on Detective Turner and not come alone." 

With that he disconnects the call, does a quick recall to remember whether he ever took the gloves off, and winks at Carter. "See you in the next life. Toodle-oo." He gives him a little finger wave he thinks Dean would be proud of and steps out, closing the door firmly behind him. Glancing around he sees nothing but yellow and brown overgrown bush as far as the eye can see. Carter will undoubtedly try to scream for help. Good thing there's no one around for miles that can help him. 

Twelve miles later, he's out onto the main road and with one hand on the wheel he reaches into his bag and pulls out a phone. He dials and it's picked up on the first ring. 

"Frank? Is that you?"

"Indeed. It's done. The detectives are on their way." 

A sigh of relief is heard through the line. "Thank you, Frank, for doing what I couldn't. Do you think he got it?"

"No," Frank answers, honestly. "But I think he understood that everything he tried to instill in them, they did the exact opposite. They're good people, Amara. Whatever psychological manipulation or tests he ran failed. You can't make a good person evil. No matter how hard you try."

He hears a stifled sob on the other end. "Thank you, Frank. Thank you."

"What happens now, dear?" He knows she understands what he's asking and answers accordingly. 

"I don't have long. I was given six months to a year. I'm hoping to make it to little Castiel's wedding and that'll probably be the end for me. You've taken care of my family for a long time; Frank and I am so grateful for it. Your final payment is en route and I added a little extra for going the extra mile. Frank, as someone who is dying, I can tell you to live, Frank. Live. We only get one life. Make the most of it. Can you promise me that?"

and it's hard for Frank to make that promise but makes it he does.  "I promise to dance in the rain for you, Amara." It seems apropos as dark clouds gather. He hears sirens and knows they're coming. He can only hope that when they arrive, they still find Carver, sitting there, watching how every person in his twisted little mind game managed to come out on top.