#sabriel tickles

[cringemesstickles]

Wings: The Greatest Fidget Toy Of All Time.

(TickleTober Day 7: Fidget)

Summary: Sam is stressed and becomes fidgety.

Pairings: Sabriel (Sam/Gabriel)

Word Count: 1266

A/N: Third Sabriel fic in a row! Can you tell I love them a little bit? 🤭

This one is only a little angsty in the beginning but it gets really fluffy and sweet

———————————————————

It was a difficult day for Sam Winchester… everything small felt significantly bigger, and the world seemed to be crushing him and drowning him in stress.

Something about being a hunter, particularly a hunter that’s been to hell and back and seen the world nearly end about a hundred times, is that the future really starts to weigh you down. Anxiety creeps in and every sound, feeling, or occurrence feels like a warning.

It gets absolutely suffocating.

For Sam, it forced him to hide away in his room and burrow under his covers and hope that the world won’t spontaneously combust.

While Sam was doing just that, the archangel, Gabriel, popped up beside his boyfriend, sitting on the edge of the bed. The sudden dip in the mattress caused the hunter to gasp and shoot up from under the covers, his hair tousled and his eyes wide as he prepared to fist fight any threat in the room.

“Woah there, Sammich! Don’t get too excited to see me.” The archangel teased with a grin, his golden wings flapping slightly behind him as he raised his hands in mock defense.

The Winchester breathed a sigh of relief, but his expression quickly turned sour.

“I’m not in the mood for your games, Gabriel.” He grumbled before laying back down, facing away from his boyfriend.

The trickster cocked his head to the side and raised a brow, not expecting the abnormally cold remark. After a surprise visit, Sam usually relaxed and gave a playfully annoyed response… but this was a real annoyed response.

Gabriel could tell something was up.

“Someone’s down in the dumps, eh?” He hummed, moving closer to his lover and brushing a hand through his hair, trying to offer some form of relaxation and support.

Sam felt himself immediately relax under the gentle touches, leaning back against the archangel and closing his eyes. His brows creased, showing how stressed he really was.

He shuttered. “A little bit…”

Gabriel softened. He laid himself down fully, pressing his body against Sam’s and wrapping an arm around him, resting his chin on the taller man’s shoulder.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

Almost instinctively, one of his wings protectively draped over Sam like a blanket.

The younger relaxed further and he felt at least some of his anxiety melt away under the warmth.

“I-I don’t know… the world just feels suffocating…”

As Sam started to talk, one of his hands became drawn to the archangel’s wing, his fingers fidgeting with the soft edge of it. Gabriel didn’t expect it, but he didn’t fully mind… it just felt a bit… sensitive.

“It’s like no matter how many times we stop the apocalypse or the end of the world, there’s always more… I-I hate not being able to predict it… disaster is just always looming over me and I can’t-”

Sam’s anxious ramblings were interrupted by a muffled chuckle. What the hell? Was his boyfriend laughing at him?

Sam continued to fidget, his other hand joining in to play with the feathers, his irritation growing as the archangel continued to laugh.

“What the hell, Gabe? How is that funny?!” He growled, his fingers fussing more intensely as he got more anxious.

When they accidentally dug into the base of the wing, it gave a harsh flap and the archangel fell back, nearly tumbling off the side of the mattress as he barked out a laugh.

“I-I’m not laughing at you!!! Quit messing with my wing like it’s some stress toy!”

Sam startled as his boyfriend hastily sat up, clutching his wing and brushing it off. He tilted his head and observed before a look of realization took over his features. A smile tugged at his lips and he stifled a giggle of his own.

“Oh… ticklish wings, huh?” He snorted, causing a blush to spread on Gabriel’s cheeks.

“Oh, shut up! You’re one to talk about ticklishness!” He pouted playfully, giving Sam’s tummy a poke, which resulted in a squeak and a jolt.

The hunter huffed and shot his boyfriend a glare before becoming slightly mischievous.

“You know, I still feel kind of anxious… I need to keep my hands occupied for a bit.”

He then grabbed the archangels wing to hold it still, using the other to scribble over the soft, feathered surface. Gabriel squawked and fell back, erupting in loud, frantic laughter.

“Sammy, you evil, evil, soul!” He cried, kicking his legs and flapping his free wing while the other twitched helplessly under the gentle assault.

Sam’s fingers were thorough, but careful, not wanting to cause any harm to the golden appendages. He began to notice that as his boyfriend continued to laugh and squirm, the room felt brighter and things suddenly didn’t feel so terrible. He felt the weight lifting from his shoulders and his anxiety melting away.

All this from a little tickling?

Sam began to laugh with the archangel, his eyes crinkling in mirth as his fingers scratched at the most sensitive parts of his lover’s wing. He loved the sound of the archangels laugh… it never failed to rub off on him and draw out a similar sound.

“Sammy, stohohohop! This is torture!” Gabriel whined, his hair mussing up as he whipped his head back and forth. Tears of mirth began to fall and his cheeks were brighter than the Winchester’s expression.

“Why would I stop? This is pretty stress relieving.” Sam teased, but slowed down, not wanting to overstimulate the archangel, knowing that the wings can be quite sensitive. Besides… he felt lighter already.

Gabriel gave Sam a mock glare, seizing the opportunity to push him off and straddle him, his wings flapping playfully.

“You like fidgeting, huh?! Well my wings feel pretty fidgety too!” He growled, smirking at the younger’s wide-eyed expression. Sam looked like a dear in headlights and it was almost impossible for the archangel not to laugh.

“I think you deserve a taste of your own medicine!” With a cheeky grin, Gabriel let the tips of his wings flutter against Sam’s neck, eliciting a burst of embarrassingly squeaky giggles and soft snorts. The gentle flitting of the feathers against his skin was enough to drive him up the wall, but also melt away the rest of his anxiety, leaving none at all.

He felt so happy and… free.

“Hey!! T-That’s cheating!” He protested, shaking his head and using his hands to try and cover his neck, only for the archangel to pin them to the side.

“Oh, I think it’s fair game… you torture my wings, I torture you with my wings.” Gabriel grinned and a squeal rang out as he flicked the tip of his wing against his boyfriend’s ear.

“Oh yeah… totally fair.”

Sam’s laughter echoed through the room, blending with the archangel’s warm chuckles and occasional teasing. For the first time that day, Sam’s chest didn’t feel heavy and his mind wasn’t swimming with dark thoughts.

Gabriel decided to ease up, his fingers brushing gently against Sam’s flushed cheeks as he leaned down, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose.

“Feeling a little less suffocated, Samshine?” The older man teased, his golden eyes full of affection.

Sam’s breathing evened out, his giggles fading into contented sighs as he glanced up at his boyfriend, a small, relaxed smile spreading across his lips.

“Yeah…” He whispered, “Thanks, Gabe.”

The archangel grinned, moving to lay beside Sam.

“Anything to get you smiling like that, sugar.”

The rest of their agenda had nothing to do with research or hunting… only cuddles and laughter.

And maybe a little more “fidgeting…”

[carrie-tate]

I read the cutest sam/gabriel fic by @cringemesstickles and I really wanted to draw something based on

Sam's smile is just precious ｡⁠:ﾟ⁠(⁠;⁠´⁠∩⁠`⁠;⁠).⁠ﾟ⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

[deanwinchester-baby]

16

you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)

Ok so while there are many things I personally am not a fan of, very few I can’t look at and go “yeah no I can see what tickles your fancy here you go girl”. That being said, I never once got the appeal of Sabriel (Sam x Gabriel). Like, I don’t ship many ships but I can see why others do. This one genuinely never even made sense in my head and I thought it was a in-fandom joke.

For characterization, while I do have a few that I either viscerally disagree with or just don’t enjoy at all, but the thing that has me scratching my head as to why people would enjoy it is the widespread idea of Dean being completely blind to any faults of his father’s for the entire run of the show. I’ve even seen people give Dean’s lines about him to Sam and have Dean disagree with them. Like. Not only does that lead me to think you’ve watched the show with your eyes closed and your ears covered, but how do you not much rather appreciate the delicious intricacies that make up Dean and John’s relationship?

[wordstrings]

TickleTober Day 2: Feathers (Supernatural, Sabriel)

Words: 520

—

“Spread ‘em.”

Gabriel snickers and doesn’t move. Sam presses his forearm more firmly on the back of Gabriel’s neck and kicks his stance wider with a sweep of his foot.

“I said spread ‘em.”

“Mm, I love when you get bossy,” Gabriel says, cheek to the wall.

“So get bossed,” Sam fires back with a grin. “Spread. Them.”

A ruffle of air in front of Sam’s chest disturbs his shirt. The manifested wings stretch out in slow compliance, glinting tawny brass and copper in the bedroom lamplight.

“Be gentle with me, officer. I have a delicate constitution.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “You have the right to remain silent. Please use it.” He begins to pat along Gabriel’s sides. “Now, where is it?”

“If I told you, that wouldn’t be any fun.”

“If I make you tell me, that could be plenty of fun.”

“Ooo, you gonna cuff me? Rough me up a little and play bad cop ‘til I give?” Gabriel smirks against the wall. “Or maybe good cop. Make it so damned good I can’t even stand it, that I’d tell you anything just to get a break from the overwhelming good, so good, oh Sam…”

Sam cuts off the show of moaning and gyrations by grabbing a fistful of feathers. Gabriel stutters to a halt, which is immensely satisfying. Sam leans in close, the smile on the edge of his lips brushing against Gabriel’s hair.

“Where is it?”

The right to silence is apparently being exercised now, which is just fine with Sam. He’ll see how long it’ll last, though. He relaxes his fist and slides his hand up under a layer of feathers. Gabriel shivers beneath him.

“You tell me, or I start coercing. Your choice.”

Silence.

So be it. Sam removes his other arm from Gabriel’s shoulders and presses in with his chest instead, keeping Gabriel pinned against the wall. He slots a hand under each wing and begins tickling into the feathers.

To his credit, Gabriel doesn’t crack right away. He squirms, he bites his lip, he screws his eyes shut, but he doesn’t laugh. Sam’s hands crawl their way inward, the feathers beneath and between his fingers getting smaller as they approach Gabriel’s back. The wings flinch and shudder. Gabriel still doesn’t laugh.

When Sam’s tickling fingers start to worm their way into the pressed-narrow space between wings and back, though, Gabriel snorts.

“Where is it?” Sam asks again. “Last chance.”

Gabriel’s voice wobbles as he says, “Screw you, Winchester.”

“Only after you tell me,” Sam says, grinning, and digs hard into the sensitive wingpits that are layered with soft down over firm muscle.

Gabriel cracks spectacularly. His laughter rings through the room, boisterous and unbridled. He squirms between Sam and the wall, and it probably shouldn’t be so easy to keep him pinned there, but a giggly archangel is a weak archangel and Sam intends to keep things that way for as long as it takes. He’ll tease Gabriel later about the irony of having ticklish spots that are covered in feathers, after he gets what he wants. It’s only a matter of time.

[thebest-medicine]

Sabriel for your dating questions? :3

1. would you rather be the more ticklish one or your partner be the more ticklish one?

G: he is so much more ticklish please I’m not even ticklish

S: I’d rather it be him but it’s unfortunately me

2. would you rather have one sided tickle fights or go toe to toe in a tickle war with your significant other?

G: ONE SIDED

S: tickle fight

3. would you rather have light or heavy tickles from your significant other?

G: light

S: light.....usually

4. would you rather give your significant other light or heavy tickles?

G: whatever torments him more

S: light if we are cuddling, heavy if I’m out for revenge

5. when would the best time for tickles be with your significant other?

G: giving - ALL THE TIME especially when he’s least expecting it,

receiving - what me? I’m not even ticklish...

S: giving - revenge tickles, embarrassing Gabriel in front of other people they care about...

receiving - preferably when alone

6. would you use tickling as foreplay?

G: YES!

S: more begrudgingly: yes

7. would you want to tickle/be tickled while having sex?

G: would LOVE to tickle during sex but wouldn’t like being tickled during

S: wouldn’t like either DURING but before or after both are good

8. tickly kisses or tickly massages?

G: give tickly massages, get tickly massages

S: give tickly kisses, get tickly massages

[welcometoyournewhell]

A Form of Intel

Sabriel tickles. Semi Long.

“Is this really necessary,” Sam asked as he was currently getting pretty much a pat down. “You need to look somewhat presentable Samwich,” Gabriel stated without tearing his eyes from the younger Winchester. Stepping back to admire his work he tilted his head. “Look up,” Sam did so with irritance. Gabriel stepped back onto his step stool before playing with the moose’s majestic mane. “Gabe it’s  just a party,” Sam groaned as his hair was fluffed for the third time. “And you forgot who your date it,” Gabe said giving the male a wink. “Yes my fake date for a party we’re only going to for intel while Dean,” Sam started to grumble off. Gabriel presented a rather cocky face while sitting back and taking a swig from his wine glass. “While Dean’s… interrogating Castiel,” Sam shot him a look of disgust. “You can’t just…. Say that like that about your brother dude,” Gabe shrugged. “Why? He’s a grown man, he has needs too,” Sam shook his head. “Okay whatever, can we stop talking about this,” Sam asked running his hand through his hair.

“Aw come on Sam, I just fixed that,” Gabe whined putting the glass down and walking back over to the taller man. “Gabe it’s fine, we need to go, alright,” Sam asked reaching the end of his limit. “In a minute,” he mumbled fixing the black blazer once more. However this time he pushed a little to light. Sam jumped and quickly covered his mouth. Gabe stood back with a smirk playing at his lips. “Oh? What do we have here? Is Sammy ticklish,” the angel teased. “Don’t, we need to go,” Gabe picked up his glass again. “If you say so,” he said indicating to the door. “Your driving,” with that he finished his drink and tossed the cup into the sink. “Let’s go,” he said walking passed the taller male, swatting his butt. Sam jumped and let out a sound of annoyance before following.

The party had gone well, Sam had collected  his information and left it over voice mail to Dean. Good thing too as he had let Gabriel talk him into having a bit to drink. A bit turned into enough to make him not drunk but giddy. However the angel had a bit more than the average drunk, though it had no true affect on him, he did enjoy the buzz of being drunk. Letting a bit of the feeling take him over he found himself enjoying the night a lot more than he anticipated. However things may have gotten a little um.… well…. Unprofessional. Sam had opened the door finally after three attempts, Gabriel wrapped around his body. The two were kissing passionately while Sam stumbled into the motel room. Sam felt around for the door before one of Gabriel’s crossed legs kicked the back of it slamming it closed. Landing on the bed with a thunk Gabe retracted his legs and leaned back to break the kiss. He wished he had a camera to record Sam’s reaction. His hair was messy, his clothes were pretty wrinkled and off center, and the pout on his face was adorable. “Why’d you stop,” he asked still hovering above the other.

“Cause fun times over Sammy, time to sober up,” Gabe said patting him lightly on the cheek before rolling over to get off the bed. “Wel… does it have to be,” with his back still to Sam Gabriel smirked. “Well I mean, that’s up to you,” he never knew Sam liked guys. Dean, yes he knew, most people did. But Sam? Nothing he really saw indicated any kind of bi or pan sexuality. “Well you’ve got me this far,” Sam said spreading his arms in a t-like indication pose. “What messy hair? Messed up clothing articles? Not really exciting Sammy,” Gabe smirked. “Oh yeah, cause it wasn’t your plan to get me wasted,” Sam said sitting down on the foot of the bed. “Your not wasted though, you still have a legal amount of alcohol in your system that would let you drive,” he walked over to the bed. “I think you may be playing it up a little,” he put his knee on the bed and gently took Sam’s tie into his hand. Sam had a slight blush on his face. “So what if I am,” he asked looking at Gabe’s lips. Gabriel leaned into his ear. “Than your still not getting anywhere Sammy boy,” he laughed pulling back at the look of frustration and annoyance on the other male’s face.

“Teasing? Really,” Sam asked crossing his arms. “Kissing is as far as I can legally go with you, as you are under the influence. By law if we went any further it wouldn’t be legal anymore,” he gave a wink. Sam groaned. “Well I’m not gonna be able to work tonight, and Dean’s gonna be gone for a while,” he opened his arms again. “So now what,” he asked. Sucking a lollipop he popped out of thin air he gazed over Sam. “Why don’t you get out of your monkey suit and we’ll see,” he mused walking into the bathroom. When he walked back out he caught the younger Winchester pulling a thin gray t-shirt over his head. The thin pants on kind of of matched… well went with the outfit. Gabe had decided it may be humorous to hang around the Winchesters’ longer, so that meant a sleepover. Wearing a basic t-shirt and boxer briefs he sat down on the queen sized bed.

“So,” he said laying back against the pillows with his arms behind his head. “So,” Sam inquiered. “You decide on what to do,” the older angelic brother asked. “Not really,” Sam said sitting on the foot of the bed. An idea popped into the older’s head. “I think I know,” he said snapping his fingers. Sam found himself on his back with the shorter male straddling his waist. “I thought you said this was illegal,” Sam commented. Gabriel secured his balance on the other’s waist before smirking. “No, I said having intercourse while drunk was illegal. This isn’t,” Sam looked at him puzzled. “Then what is this, exactly,” the younger Winchester asked. Gabriel lowered himself to Sam’s ear, “Tickle time.” Sam’s eyes widened, before he could react Gabriel started poking and prodding at his underarms earning high pitched squeals and screams. Sam grabbed his wrists in an attempt to stop him. After a few more tickles Sam managed to stop the older angel…. However Gabriel wasn’t done yet. Sam suddenly felt something soft rub against his neck. Snorting he scrunched his head into his shoulders. The sensation didn’t lessen, rather it spread to behind his ears. “ Hahaha! Stop it,” he giggled shaking his head back and forth as the sensation mirrored on his other side.

”Why are you laughing Sam,” Gabriel asked bringing his head closer to the moose’s face. “Yhouhohor tickling meheheheh,” he tried to hide his face more when the sensation spread under his chin. “How am I tickling you if your holding my hands,” Gabriel smirked. “Dhohohn’t,”  Sam practically squealed. It felt like dozens of tiny spiders were crawling across his stomach. “Don’t what? You Winchesters’ are so odd,” Sam actually pulled Gabriel onto him now screaming in laughter as the feeling spread up to his chest. “Ghahahabe sthohohp,” it felt like feathers were swirling around the spider’s movements. “Why would I stop? I just started,” he leaned forward and started blowing raspberries on the taller’s neck. “YHOHOHU ADHAHAHMIT IT,” he practically screamed. Gabriel pulled back slowing his grace’s pace. Shrugging he smirked. “Eh, yeah,” he practically purred leaning back in and blowing raspberries on Sam’s neck. “PLEHEHEASE STHAHAHP,” Sam was starting to break. Huffing Gabriel slowed the pace and pressure leaving the moose of a man in giggles. That sounded a lot better to him. However he wasn’t anticipating Sam’s hands to find his sides and squeeze. Jumping his grace ceased it’s attack.

Sam panted, a look of evil on his face. “Guess I’m not the only ticklish one,” he brought his hands back to Gabriel’s sides earning a few giggles. “Ehehehahaha! Sthhap it Sam,” he swatted at the other’s hands. If he really wanted to he could stop the younger Winchester but at the moment he was enjoying the bonding. “Oh what was that you said? ‘I just started, I’m not gonna stop’,” Gabriel leaned backwards, Sam following. He moved his hands down to vibrate on the older angel’s stomach. “Ahahahaha! Shahahaham, I’m wharning you,” he threatened playfully. Well it didn’t come out playful but to him it was all in good fun. Sam laughed before moving up to his ribs. However due to being intoxicated he couldn’t tell how much pressure he was putting into his action. It kind of hurt. With a snap of his finger’s Sam found himself sitting against the headboard, a smirk still on his face as Gabriel panted. “Well...that was uncalled for,” Sam rolled his eyes. “And so was tickling me,” he added crawling down to the smaller man.

“Hey Sammy I forgo…..oh,” Dean had barged into the room. Didn’t we lock the door? Gabriel thought. “Am I interrupting something,” he asked studying the two. Pajamas, red faces, messy hair, panting, the scent of alcohol in the room. “Uh D-Dean,” Sam sat up a bit. He was clearly embarrassed. “W-What, what are you doing here? I thought you and Cas were,” Gabriel cut him off. “Thought you and my little bro were getting to um…. really get some information out of each other,” he said with a smirk. Dean’s face turned slightly pink before be turned to the table in the room. “Yeah um… forgot my pie,” he said before reaching into a grocery bag and pulling out a large store bought pie. Showing it to the two men on the bed he turned and strode out of the room. “Just…. Be safe,” he told Sam before shutting the door.

Sam;s face grew hotter before he laid back on the bed. “Damn it,” he groaned. Gabriel laughed before crawling up to him. “How about we call it a night Samich,” he asked. “Yeah sure, sounds great,” Sam let out another groan followed by a sigh. “Well, night Sam,” Gabriel placed a kiss on the hunter’s forehead. “U-Um… night,” Sam rolled onto his side and curled up slightly. This was an awkward night he’d never hear the end of.

[unluckywrench]

Just What I Needed, More Than I Wanted

Revising the current chapters and adding new ones.  My Muse is back! :)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11910597/chapters/26912373

[fuckyeahsabrielfics]

The Purple Dog Shirt

The Purple Dog Shirt by snugglechesters

Pairing: Gabriel/Sam Winchester

Rating: T

Length: 943

Warnings/Tags: Established Relationship, Tickling, Fluff, High School AU

Summary: Gabe finds a blast from the past in Sam’s closet – shenanigans ensue.

+

I always hear about the purple greyhound shirt! Reliving memories with fashionista Gabriel ready to help. Of course being a trickster, there has to be some blackmail right? ;) - Nikki

This piece honestly made my whole day, it was so cute and funny! I adore silly moments of domesticity between Gabriel and Sam, and bringing back the purple dog shirt was great! Love, love, love it! - Gisselle

Late addition here! But I loved this fic, and I love the purple dog shirt! -Lauren

[crownshattered-moved]

@diverse-hearts-ocs​​​ inquired: “Stop— you’re making me blush.” - Sabriel / Anne

Stages of Relationships—No Longer Accepting

The redhead laughed at the pleas from her beloved, tickled pink by her reaction. Oh, how she adored Sabriel. Every little detail about her made Anne’s heart warm, and every smile and laugh filled her with love. How can such a warm feeling even be real.?? How, when all Anne could remember growing up was feeling cold and emptiness in her home? People like her were not meant for happiness and love. They were meant for duty, and seldom could one find love in that. But things were different with Sabriel…

“What, is it wrong to be affectionate with my beloved~?” Anne teased with a giggle as she kept her arms wrapped tightly around Sabriel before continuing her onslaught of peppering kisses to her face. The only issue was that they were in a semi-public area—only a few people were around, but they still weren’t alone. Surely that must be why Sabriel felt so flustered. However, Anne wasn’t embarrassed. She didn’t need to keep a professional face. No one here knew them, so they could just be a normal, happy couple. There was nothing wrong with that, right?

[unityghost]

Masquerade

Oh look, I wrote part 29 of Post-Asmodeus Sabriel Feels.

Based on the following prompt from Archive of Our Own user PersonFace:

Gabe hides his true thoughts and pretends to make progress, and, to his surprise, he's good at it. Not, they let it go, not, they're not noticing, he's really good at hiding away, and putting on a face. Even Sam is fooled. Gabe is conflicted on how to feel about that.

I'll confess that some of this doesn't follow the prompt to the letter, but I did my very best. And of course I am sorry for how overdue it is.

“No,” said Sam.

“Yes,” said Gabriel.

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. “I told you, you’re not coming to fight.”

“I heard what you said, which is why I lied and agreed I’d lay low. Thing is, I don’t want to see you flop because you lacked the knowledge to keep from getting slaughtered.”

Sam’s face softened. “You gave us all the information you could.”

He and Gabriel stood alone in a motel room near the Uinta mountain ranges in Utah. It had been a long while since Gabriel had spent a significant amount of time out west, and indeed, they planned on being here for no longer than a few days. Dean had already left to start the car, and Sam was blocking the doorway so that Gabriel couldn’t accompany them.

Gabriel knew that Sam had a point: since healing an injury on Sam’s hand two weeks previously, after a witch and her miniscule but bloodthirsty familiar had attacked him, Gabriel had been exhausted.

Even so:

“You really don’t know much about these sons of bitches,” Gabriel reminded Sam, trying not to sound like he was pleading. “And I’ve seen them before; I would be able to take one on.”

But Sam held firm. “You’ve already done plenty to help us along, all right? You taught us more about the satori than Wikipedia and all the Japanese folklore books combined. We don’t need you to fight; we just needed that guidance. Okay? You really aren’t ready for this. And I’m not saying that to try and make you feel bad. When you’re stronger, I won’t make you stay put. Promise.”

“In other words, I’d slow you guys down.” Before Sam could protest, Gabriel added, “Fine. You’re hardly off the mark, so fine. I’ll entertain myself while you go hunt down your furry lunatic. Remember, get a good swing in, and if it doesn’t know what’s coming then you’ve got yourself an extra three seconds or so to avoid being eaten.”

Sam nodded, pretending Gabriel hadn’t told him this already. “Sure thing.”

“Did you meditate? Clear that noggin of yours? The satori feed on thoughts. Especially complex, contemplative thought.”

“Dean and I both meditated.”

“Like I said: complex and contemplative. I’m not as worried about Dean.”

Sam glanced down at his watch. “Gabriel, I’ve got to go. But while we’re gone, put your feet up. Let yourself relax for a while. I promise we’ll be okay.”

“Did I say you wouldn’t be?”

Sam smiled, and just missed the raised middle finger cast behind him on his way out the door.

Gabriel waited for the engine to fade before he checked his pocket to ensure the room key was there.

Yes, he was worn out; yes, he was low on grace; and yes - he had enough sense to understand that Sam had been generous in allowing Gabriel to come at all when he was sure to slow the others down. Nevertheless, it was true that Gabriel knew these creatures better than Sam did: he’d dealt with them more than once when they had free reign over the Central Pangean Mountains, long before humankind could take advantage of any opportunity to mess with them.

Gabriel was familiar with what scant literature was accessible to the public these days; and no matter how many times he insisted that not only were these monsters more cunning than the Winchesters’ average prey, but quicker and more ferocious, neither of them took the warnings seriously.

“I’m not questioning whether you can take them on,” Gabriel had told them. “I’m just trying to get you to believe me when I tell you that you gotta prepare for more than you’ve been able to read up on.”

“So tell us more,” Dean prodded, watching him in the rearview mirror.

“I told you all I know! It’s not like I’ve ever sat down to have lunch with one. But I’ve seen what they can do to humans, and …” Gabriel paused, remembering. “A couple of times I was able to chase them off.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “And the other times?”

Gabriel waved a dismissive hand. “Doesn’t matter.” He didn’t want to admit that the “other times” had seen him standing out of sight, watching the carnage and unwilling to get involved. “I just hope you had good reflexes in Little League.”

“We’ve got everything we need,” Sam assured him from the passenger seat. “Plenty of options in the trunk.”

“I’m not worried about what weapon you use. What matters is how fast you can swing it. The goal is to take the sucker off guard, not to destroy it.”

“Then what’s the point of this trip anyway?” Dean demanded.

“See, Sam? Your brother gets what I’m trying to say.”

“As long as we can chase it off,” Sam reminded them both. “Look, Gabriel - I hear you. We don’t know how to kill it. So we’re going to immobilize it.”

“Right.” Gabriel sat back and closed his eyes. He could feel a headache coming on. “With your fancy-pants spellwork.”

“Rowena told us - ”

“Rowena knows how to chase them into isolated sprawls of water. They can’t swim, and that’s all well and good, but what happens after that? Did she do a follow-up study? For all we know, this could be the same one she took down all those years ago. You want me to page the coral reefs, see if they found a mangy corpse over yonder?”

Sam sighed. “You’re just gonna have to trust us. We’re doing the best we can.”

“I know. That’s why I insisted on tagging along.”

Outside of the motel, Gabriel halted, breathing in the mountain air. Not for the first time, he was discombobulated at the subtleties his near-graceless body picked up in a way it never would have before: the way this oxygen was thinner than that of Kansas, the chilly tickle of fall as background noise in the latter half of summer. These minute changes affected him in strange ways, altering his heartbeat and sometimes making him feel as though he was surrounded by unfamiliar presences.

He began walking. It had been a long time since he’d set foot in the Uinta Mountain ranges. Memories flickered at the back of his mind - memories that might have taken place prehistorically or may have happened a mere few centuries before. It was hard to tell sometimes which memories fell where, considering that his time with Asmodeus was a history in itself that felt both very old and very fresh.

That’s how it works when there’s no end in sight, he thought, making his way down the road toward the mountains themselves, where he knew the monster would be lurking.

It was an hour before he got a text message from Sam. Nothing yet. Probably gonna be a few hours.

“Cool,” Gabriel said to the mountain air. “Because this won’t take me long at all. Good thing one of us knows what we’re doing.”

He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been on rolling, open grass like this. Lebanon was beige; the mountain ranges were a pure, warm green.

He wished he could move positions the way he used to. It was conceivable that he might manage some distance should he attempt to fly, but there was no point in wasting his energy on that, especially since he wasn’t sure whether he had the grace he needed to take this creature down. He couldn’t remember having ever seen one killed another way; all that could be done, it seemed - at least for humankind - was to frighten the satori off with whatever object an unwitting traveler could swat at it.

What Gabriel had wanted to say to Sam, and hadn’t, was: “If it’s a choice between you getting clawed to death and turned into a meal and me taking myself out with a last gasp for grace, why are we even debating?”

How’s it going? Gabriel texted, and Sam wrote: I’ll let you know when we get rid of it.

That terse reply, indicative of irritation (although Gabriel, sensitive as he was these days, knew he wasn’t a good assessor of others’ emotions), was nothing compared to what he would face when Sam found out he’d tried to tackle the satori on his own. The real upside to Gabriel not making it through this in one piece was that he wouldn’t have to deal with punishment.

Sam’s not going to punish you, something inside of him retorted, but he focused on taking one step after another. He was tired, but he could feel that his grace was present. Maybe healing Sam’s hand had stimulated it.

Doesn’t matter. Just gotta get this done.

When he felt the satori, his neck prickled and his heartbeat sped up. It seemed that his ability to sense unwelcome supernatural presences had either never left or been reignited at some point in the recovery from his time in Hell.

Or perhaps he was attuned to predators lying in wait.

“Come on,” Gabriel called. “Eat me.”

All birdsong ceased as Gabriel turned around.

The creature stared at him and smiled.

“You’re gross,” Gabriel told it. “You look like if the offspring of Mr. Potato Head and an orangutan got its finger caught in an electric socket.”

The goblin-esque animal-thing only grinned wider. Its eye sockets were still and hollow in a furry face.

When it spoke, its voice was high and tight as if it had inhaled from a balloon, and the words came rapidly:

“The blackness thickens,” it said. “No one will be here for long; it’s all pretend. Not one of them wants you; not one of them cares. It’s a good thing you came along to destroy the enemy: make yourself useful and perhaps they’ll let you stay. Ask nicely and they’ll allow you to keep stealing from them.”

Gabriel’s skin crawled. “What are you doing, you mangy freak?”

“It has not been able to read your mind before,” the beast replied. Gabriel, who could only assume that “it” meant the satori itself, could no longer tell whether it was actually looking at him or whether those grotesque holes were sightless. The horrid animal looked dead. “You used to be an angel. When you were more than this, it couldn’t get into your head. But look: is this not proof of what you have become?”

“I’m here to - ”

“And yet if you use what little grace swims in your near-human flesh, what use will you be? Perhaps it is time; the hour has come to show that you’re a failure, and they’ll have the excuse they so sorely need to throw you away. It can eat you, too; if you are human, and it can read you, then it can swallow you as well.”

Gabriel stepped backward.

Chill out, he told himself. The son of a bitch is screwing with you.

“The son of a bitch is not screwing with you,” the creature said. “Your memories - I smell them on your breath.” The satori cackled - harsh, like retching. “You fear that he is still inside of you. Who would have thought that you, once so esteemed and powerful, might buckle? Paralysis maintains its grip upon the creature you once were.”

Paralysis indeed, Gabriel thought as he found himself struggling to respond with either speech or movement.

The creature gave its choking laugh again. “You see? You are frozen. It knows. It knows better than anyone.”

“Wrong.” Gabriel steeled himself for either overwhelming exhaustion or worse. He felt a pang of annoyance that he couldn’t do this the way he used to. “No one knows better than yours truly.”

The flash of grace hit the creature hard, and Gabriel felt some of it ricochet back to him. It hurt, but wasn’t enough to knock him over. That came only after he saw the satori crumple to the ground, its eye sockets just as lifeless as they had been a few seconds before.

Gabriel found his face pressed into the dirt. Every muscle ached in a peculiarly human manner.

He experimented with standing up and found that, although it was a sluggish process, it wasn’t impossible. He was dizzy but he could walk.

He took breaks here and there to lean against a tree and catch his breath. The birds had started singing again.

During one of these brief siestas, he sent a message to Sam:

I know you’ll hate me and I don’t blame you but I squashed the big furry toad thing.

A few moments later, Sam replied: Where are you???

Almost to the motel.

What were you thinking???

Gabriel didn’t reply. Sam sent another message only a few seconds after that: We can find you if you stay put. Don’t move.

I’m almost back; calm down.

He could picture Sam closing his eyes and inhaling, trying not to show that he was frustrated.

Are you sure? Sam asked.

Yes. Chill. I’ll meet you there.

He didn’t check the messages after that.

Gabriel arrived first. The motel room smelled like coarse carpeting and the salami sandwiches Dean had eaten in Gabriel and Sam’s room several hours before.

Gabriel groaned and lay down on one of the two beds. He wished he could fall asleep then and there, but he knew he was about to be in trouble.

“You didn’t even take a weapon?” Dean cried when the brothers returned. “You were just banking on being able to lasso him with possibly nonexistent angel milk?”

Sam strode over to the bed. “Did you really - ”

“I’m sorry. I know. I didn’t want you to get slaughtered by something I knew I could get rid of for you, okay? Sue me.”

Sam cupped his hands over his face and exhaled. “Did it do anything to you?”

“No.”

“It didn’t hurt you?”

“If it had, then my answer would’ve been yes. I’m fine, Sam. I’m good. And I knew you’d be upset with me, but I would rather you be mad than dead.”

“I’m not upset with you; I just - you should have told me you were going to risk your neck like that.”

“Well, I asked your permission to risk my neck and you said no! What was I supposed to do, Sam? What’s done is done and we’re all still freakin’ alive, so go shower and stop yelling at me.”

He knew that Sam wasn’t yelling, but to Gabriel it sounded dangerously close.

Sam glanced at Dean.

“He’s an idiot,” Dean announced.

“Come on,” Sam snapped. “That’s not helpful.”

“Neither was going after a monster without telling us first.” Dean glared at Gabriel before making his way to the exit and slamming the door behind him.

“He’s worried, that’s all,” Sam said.

“Yeah, he’s all in a tither over my safety. I could tell by the way he tried to disembowel me with his eyes.” Gabriel shoved his face into a pillow and groaned. “I know, okay? I do. I really - I mean - look, I’d be royally pissed too, but I was doing what I thought was best. I’m not sorry for that.”

“I …” Sam struggled for a moment, but all the fight seemed to have left him. “I’m glad you managed to pull it off. Just don’t do it again.”

With an effort, Gabriel sat up. “I’m not interested in standing by anymore.”

“We’ve had this talk already: you don’t owe us anything.”

“Fine.” Gabriel flopped back down. He hadn’t removed his shoes. “I just knew what had to be done in this instance. It can’t be taken back now and I’m glad you’re not dead.”

He shut his eyes, then felt the mattress sink under Sam’s weight.

“I’m sorry,” Sam told him. “It’s only that - ”

“Don’t be sorry.” Gabriel kept his eyes closed. “I knew the reaction I was in for. As if I didn’t run through this a thousand times in my head. You disowning me is more appealing than me having to dig your grave.”

“I wouldn’t disown you. You know that. I’m not mad, and if I was - ”

“You are mad. But frankly, I figured you’d be a lot worse than this.”

“You really don’t trust me, do you?”

Gabriel opened his eyes and squinted up at Sam. “I trust you. You obviously don’t have enough faith in me to help you when you need it, though.”

Sam stood up. “Maybe let’s have this conversation tomorrow.”

“No need. Go clean yourself up.”

“Take off your shoes.”

“Too tired. Not conscious.”

As he was drifting off, he felt Sam untying his sneakers.

There was little dialogue during the long trip home the following day. Dean was still tense, which surprised Gabriel, who had been ardently convinced that Sam would be furious and Dean would be relieved. Dean wasn’t worried about whether Gabriel lived or died, and someone had taken care of his dirty work for him.

There was, of course, the possibility that Dean was upset over being denied a triumphant capture. But Gabriel wasn’t particularly concerned about Dean’s feelings in this instance. What mattered was that he and Sam were both alive and well.

Gabriel slept most of the way home, and his dreams were full of eyeless beasts clawing at his face and digging soiled ape-like paws so harshly into his skull that the pressure became too much and he grew blind. In the nightmares, he tried to scream at them, but couldn’t make a sound.

There was nothing he could do, because they already knew he was afraid.

He was stiff and clammy when it was time to climb out of the car. During the extraordinarily long journey (probably not so extraordinary for them, Gabriel realized), Sam had taken Dean’s place at the wheel and Dean was staring sullenly out of the window.

“Okay back there?” Sam asked.

Gabriel nodded.

“Here - ” Sam made his way around back to open the door and help Gabriel out.

“I’m fine,” snapped Gabriel. “I can move on my own.”

He immediately felt guilty for his tone of voice, but the dreams wouldn’t leave him.

“What’s wrong?” asked Sam. “Hey, you’re all sweaty and shaky.”

“Tired from using up my grace. Think there’s probably none left.” Both halves of his explanation were true. There was no need to explain that the nightmares had made it worse.

He shoved himself out of the car and Sam reached out a hand to steady him. Gabriel stepped away before Sam could touch him.

“Gabe,” said Sam, “You look like you’re going to pass out.”

“I’m not.”

“I can tell when something’s wrong with you.”

Gabriel clenched his jaw. “Is that so?” He straightened himself and made a concerted effort to walk evenly and steadily up to the door and down the stairs into the bunker. He stumbled toward the bottom step and Sam grabbed his shoulder.

Gabriel wrenched himself away. “Jesus, Sam, I’ll tell you if something’s wrong!”

“Okay!” Sam looked alarmed. “I just - okay.”

Gabriel ignored the shame that accompanied his outburst. Sam didn’t deserve anybody shouting at him, but there could be no denying that he was right: Sam had seen Gabriel in various states of distress and knew what it looked like when he wasn’t well.

He turned away, making for his bedroom; then he paused and looked back at Sam.

“I just need a little rest,” he said. “That’s all it is. I’m on edge, all right? But I’ll be fine.”

Sam nodded. “Yeah. Go. Get some sleep. I’ll bring you something to eat later.”

“All right.” Gabriel wasn’t sure he would be able to eat, but there was no reason to make Sam more suspicious. “I’ll see you later.”

He didn’t look back this time.

That week, Gabriel made it a point to eat in front of them - especially Sam - at least once a day. He wasn’t unable to eat, and mostly it wasn’t a necessity; usually, however, he didn’t have any appetite. Besides that, hunger made him feel guilty, and sometimes he had a hard time eating without an immediate recollection of being held down and force-fed during his time with Asmodeus.

If Sam noticed that Gabriel was eating more, he didn’t say. Gabriel tried to let his mind go blank during mealtimes. Asmodeus often crept in, and he must have looked a certain way when that happened because Sam would frown.

Not one of them wants you; not one of them cares.

Gabriel forced himself to swallow, privately willing Sam to stop watching him, desperate for control over his own mind.

Is this not proof of what you have become?

Not even Sam ought to have access to his innermost thoughts and memories - not anymore.

Meanwhile, Dean’s behavior had settled into some semblance of normalcy. Gabriel had never been more thankful for his indifference; he had never taken such joy in the absence of intuitive empathy.

Then there was Castiel, who seemed mostly inclined to leave his brother alone. He sometimes looked puzzled - although that wasn’t unusual for him - but he didn’t say anything.

If Jack had any suspicions about Gabriel’s newfound stoicism, he didn’t let them show. He was cheerful and inquisitive as always, and yet - maybe from spending so much time with Cas, or perhaps because he had learned neither how to express his compassion nor how to block it - there were times he too appeared confused, not sure what to make of his uncle.

“Why are you looking at me like that, kid?” Gabriel asked him one evening.

Jack replied, “How am I looking at you?”

“Like I’m still brushing off loam from the uncanny valley.”

Jack didn’t know how to respond to that, and the subject didn’t come up again.

The four of them were sharing dinner one night when Gabriel made his decision.

“Hey,” he said to the others. “You guys all need to chill right the hell out, okay?”

Everyone turned to stare at him.

“Every time I take a bite,” Gabriel elaborated, “At least one of you watches me like you think I’m going to burst into flame. Or tears. Maybe that was warranted at one point, but I’m starting to feel like there’s something stuck in my teeth and nobody wants to tell me.”

“Your teeth look fine to me,” said Jack.

“Look,” Gabriel went on, “I get that I kind of wore myself out back in Utah, but can you fellas please stop watching my every move with those confused looks on your faces?”

Sam appeared taken aback. “Is that what we’re doing? I guess I was just …”

Slowly, looking him in the eye, Gabriel forced himself to take a bite of the pizza Dean had crafted. He had tasted it before, and although it was exceptionally good, Gabriel had a hard time with the richness of it. Had it been up to him, he would have steered clear of meals that were meant to make a person feel full. This was the first time in the last week that he had fully committed to this sort of sustenance; before that, he’d been able to get away with lighter fare.

The fact that Gabriel was able to dismiss the taste and weight of the food, that he was able to bring his mind elsewhere and ignore the spasm of nausea he had anticipated when he sat down, was encouraging.

“You were just what?” Gabriel asked when he’d swallowed.

“Uh …” Sam blinked. “Nothing. Sorry.”

“You’re used to me being a swooning maiden,” Gabriel countered. “Right now I feel fine, and your constant inspection is nothing short of creepy.”

Sam furrowed his brow, but nodded. “All right. Sorry, Gabriel. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

Gabriel took another mouthful, swallowed, and said: “Who knows? Maybe using my grace to wipe out the monster was just the kick in the pants I needed to get up and running again. I mean, hey, if I have it in me to off a predator from Jim Henson’s fever-dream, maybe I’m not in for the permanent misery that seemed inevitable before he and I faced off.”

Sam smiled, looking more at ease. “Yeah. I guess that makes sense.”

“Hey,” Dean interrupted, “You including me in that accusation? You and I have been having a great time.”

“That’s true,” Castiel agreed. He hadn’t taken any pizza, but was enjoying the company. “I’ve never seen the two of you get along so well.”

“Right?” Gabriel sat back. “So what do you have to complain about, Sam?”

“I’m not complaining, Gabriel, really.”

“Good. Because if you’ve got something to say, you can say it to me.”

For a moment he was afraid Sam was going to shout at him, although Gabriel knew that when he’d dared use that tone with Asmodeus, he deserved whatever response came his way.

Instead, he saw Sam further relax. “All right. I will.”

Sam was watchful during the remainder of the meal, although it was possible that Gabriel was only imagining as much. Sometimes he thought he felt Sam’s eyes on him, but when he looked over, Sam was just enjoying the food.

After dinner, Dean crooked a finger at Gabriel. “C’mere a minute.”

Gabriel followed him into the hall.

“What’s going on?” Dean asked, which surprised Gabriel.

“Nothing,” he replied.

“Look, I’m not complaining. I like you like this. But last week, before we left for Utah, you were afraid to ask for a napkin - and that’s even if you took five minutes to eat without Sam practically forcing it down your throat. So what gives?”

“Nothing,” Gabriel said again, wishing Dean had used different hyperbole. “Why are you harassing me about this?”

“Well, maybe if I knew what I was harassing you about it, we wouldn’t need to have this conversation.”

Gabriel stiffened. He felt betrayed. He had trusted Dean to be ignorant and unconcerned.

“I don’t know what you think you’re seeing,” Gabriel told him. “All I know is it isn’t real.”

“Maybe Sam should be the one to decide that.”

“Oh please. What’s Sam got to do with anything?”

Dean remained stone-faced.

Gabriel hardened his voice. “No one’s bothering Sam about anything. What, have you consulted him how to fix whatever imaginary problem you’ve got keeping you up at night? Asked him how to rewire his favorite disaster?”

“No,” said Dean, “Because I’d never hear the end of it from this new version of you.”

“What ‘new version’ of me? I can’t figure out if I’m being insulted.”

“Look, all I know is people don’t change like this overnight. Not without a reason.”

“Good thing I’m not people, then,” Gabriel snapped.

Dean shook his head. “Like I said, man, I don’t know what’s going on with you. Maybe it’s none of my business; I just figure you should ask Sam for help if something isn’t right.”

“I - ” Gabriel faltered. “You don’t want me to bother Sam about this, do you? Not that there’s any - but if there were, if I was - look, no one’s asking Sam for anything, okay? There’s no need, and if something was wrong with me, then he doesn’t need to do anything. Poor sap’s done enough for every lifetime he’s been put through.”

“I think he’d wanna know.”

“What would he want to know? What do you think the issue is here?”

“Well, if I knew, I wouldn’t’ve thought to bug you about it. But fine. Maybe my intuition is off.” He turned to leave, but then paused and looked back at Gabriel. “Sam would never forgive himself if you felt like you couldn’t tell him something, though.”

Gabriel stared at him. Then, more timidly, he asked: “Are you sure you haven’t mentioned anything? About … about whatever you think you see?”

“No. Should I?”

Gabriel shook his head.

“Look, Gabe,” said Dean, “He worries, but at the same time, he really wants to see you get better. He might be pulling the wool over his own eyes about this. If something happens to you and he thinks he could’ve done something to stop it, neither of you is going to be okay.”

Gabriel didn’t respond.

“I’ll see you later, Gabe,” Dean said, and left him standing in the hall with his heart beating twice as fast as it had been during dinner.

With static humming in his mind, Gabriel went back to his own bedroom. He shut the door and lay down on the bed, puzzled and frustrated by the sudden tautness in his throat. He ignored it.

He felt as though he had just been scolded, although he was reasonably confident that no such event had taken place.

Paralysis maintains its grip upon the creature you once were.

It occurred to Gabriel then that even he wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing. He allowed himself a brief indulgence in the notion that Sam really was under the impression that, for the first time in months, nothing was so wrong with Gabriel as to require immediate attention. He wondered if they could be friends without the ongoing dynamic of victim and savior, although he knew Sam would have scoffed at such a description.

Then he considered the practical implications of remaining here when he had just taken such a hit to his grace supply. He had reason to believe that it would come back - he had been entirely without grace more than once, and it always came back - but the amount of time that would take couldn’t be predicted. If he was to stay here, in the bunker, he had to have grace sooner rather than later. He remembered being without grace in Hell, and wished he could forget the punishment for such a crime. Now, in the bunker, he might not be penalized so much as …

Well, uselessness was a punishment in itself.

The hour has come to show that you’re a failure.

Gabriel sighed and closed his eyes.

They’ll have the excuse they so sorely need to throw you away.

No dreams, no nightmares, no tossing and turning: this slumber was quiet and pure.

But the next thing Gabriel knew, there were two voices calling his name; one he recognized immediately as Sam’s, and the other took him a few seconds to identify as that of Castiel. He couldn’t make out the words, and then he realized he couldn’t fully open his eyes; they had grown too heavy.

Panic set in as someone lifted him upright. He didn’t even have the strength to go rigid, let alone any power to fight back.

“Gabriel.” Sam was speaking to him in a low, hurried voice. “We’re not going to hurt you. Just wake up, all right?”

Gabriel wrenched his eyes partway open. The room was hazy. He took shallow breaths.

“Geez,” Sam told him. “Gabe, buddy, we couldn’t get you to wake up.”

Gabriel tried to ask, Why? but couldn’t make himself speak.

“It’s almost two in the afternoon,” Sam told him, “And when I came in to check on you, you just …” He trailed off.

“Wouldn’t move,” Castiel finished.

Gabriel leaned back against Sam.

“What’s going on?” Sam pressed. “I’ve never seen that happen to you before.”

When Gabriel managed to reply, his voice was hoarse. “I’ve fainted plenty.”

“This is different. Hey, keep your eyes open for a minute; we thought - ” Sam paused. “We just didn’t know what was going on.”

“Tired,” Gabriel slurred.

“This goes beyond tired, Gabriel,” said Cas.

“My grace … it’s …”

“It’s what?” Sam prodded.

“Dunno. I …” Gabriel tried to ignore the pounding in his head. “Killing the monster, the satori - ”

Sam and Castiel waited for him to continue. When Gabriel’s breath began coming a little more easily, he finished, “Maybe took some fight out of me.”

“This is why I told you not to come.” Sam didn’t sound angry - just worried, even afraid. “I know you were trying to help, but Gabriel, you were the one who said how vicious those things are. You’re not ready for something like that.”

“Through no fault of your own,” Castiel added.

Gabriel tried to push himself off of Sam and found that he was too weak.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked him. “Does anything hurt?”

“Why?” The question emerged, at last, without Gabriel even thinking about it.

“What? Why what?”

“What good’re you gonna get out of knowing what’s the matter with me?”

Sam shifted so that Gabriel was lying with his head on Sam’s lap instead of bent at an angle against his chest.

Castiel spoke up: “I suspect that Sam is simply trying to remind you that you’ve become an important part of his life, and he doesn’t want to see you suffer.”

“Well, whoop-dee-doo.”

“Gabriel …” Sam checked for a fever, then pushed stray locks of hair from Gabriel’s eyes. “I don’t understand. You seemed okay last night.”

“I’m still okay.”

“That’s obviously not true,” said Cas.

“Can you try and sit up?” Sam asked.

“Maybe.” He let Sam shift away and prop him against the pillows. As he watched Sam step back, face pale with concern, he had a moment’s doubt about his own pride.

Sit back down, he wanted to say, or I wouldn’t want to touch me either.

He closed his eyes.

“No,” Sam commanded. “Gabriel, don’t. Not yet. I want you to stay awake for now.”

When, and how, had this suddenly become too much? He knew how to frolic in lies. He knew how to make personal falsehoods into very real truths; pretending until he was no longer play-acting was a familiar process.

Why now, then, did he feel his throat tighten as he stared down at the blankets?

He was committed this time, though. He was well-versed in the warning signals of a breakdown and understood that there was no benefit in acting like a child. Sam had seen and dealt with enough, and Gabriel had debased himself so often that he couldn’t imagine anyone harboring even a modicum of respect for him at this point.

That was fine. He needed to learn not to care so much about his reputation at the bunker.

“Cas,” Sam said, “Maybe …”

“Yes. Of course.” Gabriel felt his brother watching him. “If you need me, I’m nearby. Although I suspect you know what you’re doing, Sam.”

“Thanks. I think we’ll be okay.”

Gabriel heard the door close.

“All right,” Sam said, “I know you don’t like to be coerced into talking to me, and usually I’d let up a little, but if you’re sick you need to tell me.”

“I’m not.”

“Then what happened just now?”

“Beats me. But what do you expect?” Gabriel spoke more smoothly now, but directly to the blankets. “I used up all my grace on the satori. Can you blame me for being a little out of sorts?”

“No, of course I don’t blame you. But I’m not talking about your grace. Or at least I don’t think I am.”

“Yeah? What do you think we’re discussing here, then?”

“I don’t know.” Sam looked helpless. “You seemed fine yesterday, and now you’re - I mean, how did you go from that to this? This whole week you've been ... I mean ... I don't know. I thought ... ”

“Am I not an open book to you anymore? Good.”

“What?”

“There’s no reason for you to be inside my head. There’s no reason for you to - to know any more about me, or what happened to me, than you already do.”

Sam was silent.

“I see through your strategy, Sam,” Gabriel added, still staring at the blanket. “I - when you’re quiet, you want me to talk.”

“I’m just worried.”

“You’ve made that abundantly clear, and I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t know what I can do to make you feel better about this whole thing.”

“About what whole thing? About you trying to get well?”

“Pal, if that’s what you’re looking for - for me to get back on my own two feet - then what are you complaining about? Obviously I’m better. I haven’t cried or thrown up once since we got back, and I don’t see how that’s a questionable development.”

“No, I mean, it’s not, but - ”

“But what, Sam?”

“It’s not. Really, it isn’t.”

In the moment of silence that followed, Gabriel felt such an urge to speak, to tell the truth and recount exactly what had happened in the mountains, that he tore his gaze away from the blankets and met Sam’s eyes. He now had a choice: he could say something about what had taken place, or he could lose control of himself altogether.

If there was a third option, Gabriel didn’t see it.

“I don’t want to give you a whole novel about this,” he said. “My head is killing me.”

Sam nodded.

Gabriel hesitated for a few moments longer. Then he took a deep breath and began: “When we were out in Utah, and I took down that creeptastic freakazoid, it - you know - it did what it does. It found some way into my brain, and yammered on and on about my every thought. Which wouldn’t have been a problem in and of itself if I hadn’t - if I wasn’t - well, before, when I faced one of them, it couldn’t read my mind. I was an angel and it couldn’t get in. So what does that tell you, Sam?”

Sam looked blankly at him.

“Come on, Mr. Ivy League,” Gabriel pressed. “This is measurable proof that right now, at least, I’m more human than anything else. Plus, I’ve already got one monster in my head. I don’t need another psychic bedfellow. You mean well, I know, but - but don’t you think, Sam, that you being the way you are to me might be holding me in one place? Or making me an easier target, instead of building me back up to what I used to be?”

“I’ve never thought that.”

“Well, does this change your mind? I just wrote you a whole thesis.”

“Gabriel, if you didn’t have any power then you wouldn’t have been able to take that thing down in the first place.”

“And look at how that turned out. I can barely move.”

“That’s because you haven’t given yourself a chance to recover.”

“How was I even supposed to know I needed it? I’ve been fine this last week.”

“Have you?”

“Yes!”

"I sort of wasn’t talking about the satori.”

“Oh for the love of all things holy and unholy, Sam, stop being so dramatic. I’ve had plenty of time to tunnel my way out of this.”

“Did you get through the whole week without a flashback or nightmare? You seemed like you felt pretty good. I … should I have checked?”

The guilt in Sam’s voice made Gabriel wish he’d stayed unconscious. “No.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I said no, Sam.”

“You’re not well.” There was horror and distress on Sam’s face now. “I thought - ”

“Christ, Sam, relax.”

“Why didn’t you - ”

“Because this is on me, Sam! It always has been. And that’s almost beside the point. Geez, you know - you really need to make up your mind. Am I meant to improve by eating more and learning to calm myself down, or am I supposed to hold you like a security blanket every time my engine misfires? Which is it, Sam? Should I be strengthening the muscles that Asmodeus deflated or should I keep letting you man the ship when a storm kicks in?”

“Gabriel …”

“Answer the question. I’m serious. I can’t solve this equation no matter how creative I get with it. What am I supposed to do? For me, for you, for everyone here? I need an answer and maybe you have it. I sure as all get-out have no idea what I’m supposed to do or where I’m supposed to go without messing something up.”

Gabriel thought Sam looked like he might cry. “I guess it depends.”

“No, see, that’s not how this works. Because if this was a case-by-case endeavor, one of us would have found the balance by now. No, Sam, I don’t feel good. Why’s that? I don’t feel good when I’m alone; I don’t feel good about how I act when you step in. There’s no winning for me, and for you there’s just constant sacrifice that never leads anywhere. There’s a right and a wrong answer here, and if neither of us can figure it out, then I don’t know what to do. Just stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop - stop trying to make me showcase my emotions. Maybe it works for you but it doesn’t lead to anything good for me; all it does is make me feel ashamed.”

Sam seemed at a loss for words. “I’m sorry,” he offered. “I’m not trying to make you do anything. Gabriel, I think you should just do what feels natural. If that means pretending everything’s okay, then - then fine, I guess, except I don’t think that’s what you really want.”

“Well, I don’t know what I want; as far as I’m concerned, I don’t want anything except to be more like an angel and less like a toddler.”

“I don’t think of you that way. You know that, Gabriel.”

“Sure, fine, but let’s not sugarcoat the fact that I am the way I am, and the responsibility is on me to change.”

Sam looked away, contemplating. Then he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me about what happened with the satori?”

“Because then I would’ve gotten worked up about it and so would you. You would’ve been worried about me.”

“I’m worried about you anyway.”

“Yup, I missed the mark on that one. What else is new?”

“So you think - ”

Gabriel shoved himself properly upright. “Stop it, Sam! For the love of every damn good thing left in this world, just stop it! Stop trying to coach me into a breakdown!”

Sam looked aghast. “I’m not!”

“So what are you after? You want to help? Do you want to keep me in one piece or break me into a thousand? I never know with you anymore; it - ” Gabriel took a shuddering breath and began to cry. “You know exactly what you’re doing. I’m not here for you to play with me, Sam!”

Sam stood up. “Gabriel - ”

“Is this what you want?” Gabriel raised his face so that Sam could see the tears. “You think that bullying me into showing my feelings is going to lead to success? I don’t like myself like this! I don’t want you to see and you keep on trying to open me up just like he did! Stop it, Sam! Stop it!”

“No, no - hey - ” Helplessly, Sam took his hand and Gabriel tore it away. “I - Gabriel - should I get Castiel?”

“No!”

“I don’t want you to be alone.”

“Neither do I!” Gabriel pounded the mattress with his fist. “So stay, because I need you here, and I hate you for that and I hate me for that too. I hate all of this!”

“I know you do.” Sam’s voice shook. “But you haven’t done anything wrong. Maybe I have; I don’t know. But none of this is your fault. I’m so sorry if I messed up.”

“You didn’t! I did! I don’t know! Stop it!” Gabriel took frantic breaths, tasting salt where the tears met his lips.

“You said I was like him.” Sam sounded weak. “If I ever made you feel that way, it was an accident.”

“You’re not like him; you - you’re trying to do something to me, and so was he, and I don’t know how to tell the difference between you pushing me to bleed out in front of you and him ripping me open with his bare hands!”

“I had no idea that’s what I was doing!”

“Because you’re - Sam, you’re - ” Gabriel found himself unable to breathe for a moment. When he managed it again, he said, “You’re not evil.”

That seemed to perplex Sam. “I hope not.”

“Of course you aren’t. But do you have any idea what that does to me?”

“I … no, I guess I don’t.”

Gabriel didn’t know either. He ground his teeth against the urge to scream.

No one will be here for long; it’s all pretend.

“I wasn’t like this before,” he said.

“That’s because you weren’t trapped in Hell before.”

“You’ve been trapped in Hell! And you’re nothing like this! Talk all day about how you need help, about how you have your bad dreams and your breakdowns - but you’re nothing like this, nothing like what I turned into.”

Not one of them wants you.

“That thing knew,” Gabriel wailed. “That thing knew exactly what I believe, exactly what I’m afraid of; that thing got into my head in a way even I can’t get into my head! I don’t have any control anymore, Sam - none.”

Not one of them wants you.

“That creature thought I was human, Sam,” Gabriel whispered. “Feeding on your kindness hasn’t done anything except squash me.”

Not one of them wants you.

“I know I can’t really understand what it’s like, exactly,” said Sam, “But what scares you so bad about being human? Especially if you know you aren’t, and your grace always comes back - even it’s on the slower side.”

Gabriel shook his head. “It’s not about the grace.” He swiped at his cheeks with his palms. “It’s about this.”

“About …”

Gabriel looked at him. “Do you know, and you’re just trying to get me to say it?”

“No! I’m not trying to make you say anything.”

Gabriel wasn’t sure he believed him, but lacked the energy to argue. “Well, then it’s about - it’s about the stuff in my head, and how I seem to be open season for anyone who wants a shot, for better or worse. In your case, it’s for the better; you don’t want to hurt me, or at least I don’t think you do. But you still know. You still see inside of me, and I’d give anything at all for a little emotional opacity. I’m weak, maybe as weak as I was in Hell.”

“No.”

“At least in my stupid cage I had a consistent idea of what the next day might bring. I anticipated chaos. He’d destroyed me, on purpose, for fun - so after a little while, I didn’t have to pretend I was holding myself together. Giving up the effort was easy enough; I had no choice. Well - no - unless I did have a choice, and made the wrong one. But he had power over me and I was used to being hurt. I didn’t have to play at not being vulnerable. It’s not like that anymore, Sam.”

“Shouldn’t that be a good thing?”

“You’d expect so, wouldn’t you? Me too. I’ve lost track of what’s good and what’s bad. So it’s not my grace I’m worried about. Or - no, that’s not true. I do worry about my grace, because I don’t know what the heck I’m supposed to be without it. It’s more like - it’s that worrying about my grace is almost a luxury right now. If I get to lose sleep over how much grace I have instead of how easily I get scared and lose control of myself, I count myself lucky.”

Sam frowned, trying to grasp what Gabriel was telling him.

Sometimes Sam understood, and sometimes he couldn’t relate. In this case, Gabriel suspected, Sam was at a loss because at no point in his life had he ever known genuine autonomy. With Gabriel, it was different: independence and secrecy were everything to him.

“I’m sorry,” Gabriel muttered. “I know I don’t make this easy for you.”

Sam was silent for a moment longer, then asked: “Can I tell you something?”

Gabriel froze. This wasn’t the first time he’d become immobile over the possibility of Sam explaining that no, he really couldn’t do this anymore. Perhaps this was the paralysis to which the satori had referred.

“It’s nothing bad,” Sam added hastily, in yet another demonstration of how naturally he could read Gabriel. “I just wanted to say that I don’t look down on you for being affected by your time with Asmodeus. Of course you freak out sometimes; who wouldn’t? And don’t say anything about me," he added as Gabriel opened his mouth. "I’ve been out of Hell a lot longer than you, and you were gone for so long … there’s a lot you didn’t see.” Bitterness crept into Sam’s voice. “Anyway, you can’t help what this has done to you. But hey, you know who would judge you for struggling? Asmodeus. Not me. Not any of us, but especially not me.”

Gabriel tried to respond, but there was no way to speak around the tightness in his throat and chest. The sincerity in Sam’s voice hurt him.

Finally, he managed: “You set that up to sound so dramatic.”

Sam smiled. “Sorry.”

Neither of them spoke for a while after that, although the break in conversation felt natural, not awkward.

Gabriel was fighting sleep when Sam broke the silence. “You’re convincing, you know that?”

“I’m what?”

“The way you just … slipped into your old role. I was surprised, but it didn’t seem forced. The way you spoke up for yourself at dinner last night was impressive. Normally you would’ve been scared of getting in trouble.”

“Hm.” Gabriel considered. “Well, I’ve said it before, Sam: I don’t know who or what I was before Asmodeus. Something changed; that’s all I can tell you.”

“And I was thinking - you know, even before we got back from the mountains, I saw something different. You pushed to come, and then you broke your promise about staying in the motel. I don’t know, maybe I’m off, but that’s a decision you might not have made before.”

“It was important. If something happened to you because I was too afraid to help, that would’ve been punishment on its own. It was a no-win situation so I took the option that I knew would keep you alive.”

“But you probably weren’t so sure about whether you would come out okay.” There was no accusation in Sam’s voice; he was merely making an observation.

“No,” Gabriel agreed, “I didn’t.”

Sam went on, “And it says something, doesn’t it, that you were able to put on such a good act? That’s an old talent that maybe you haven’t tapped into in a while.”

“It must not have been as good as you say, because your brother picked up on it somehow.”

Sam looked surprised. “When?”

“Last night he cornered me about how it isn’t standard to switch from empty to full in such a short span of time. Said I should go to you if I needed help.”

“Wow." Sam blinked. "I guess I don’t really know what to make of that.”

“Well, to me it means that some lucky winner always has access to my cesspit of a brain. Whether that’s you, or Dean, or Asmodeus, or a mountain-dwelling monster.”

“Oh geez, Gabriel …” Sam reached out to squeeze his shoulder. “It’s not like that, buddy.”

“Of course it is. Everybody gets a piece of me if they want it.” Gabriel turned his eyes to the sheets again, fighting tears. “And when I wasn’t whatever I am now, the satori couldn’t get into my head. Like I said - proof, Sam. Proof so concrete you could draw chalk around it. Proof.”

Sam shook his head, but didn’t seem to know what to say.

“I can’t stay awake,” Gabriel muttered, because it sounded more reasonable than When you look at me like that, you’re proving my point. “Can I rest a little bit?”

Sam hesitated. “Let me wake you up in twenty minutes. Just to make sure you’re not out cold again. Then, if you’re okay - another hour, and we can take it from there.”

“Fine.” Gabriel hated the idea of being shaken awake in such a short time, but hadn’t the stamina to argue.

Sam helped adjust Gabriel’s position so that he was lying down, then pulled the blankets around Gabriel’s shoulders. He didn’t move to leave.

If this was an instance of Sam being able to read him too easily, he didn’t want to know.

[cringemesstickles]

Work? Nah…

(TickleTober Day 12: Mischief)

Summary: Gabriel is very distracting

Pairing: Sabriel

Word Count: 419

A/N: had another long shift, so this was also a bit rushed… but it’s done and they’re cute and I love them sm 🥺

They’re my little sillies 🤭

———————————————————

Sam sat at the rickety table in the bunker’s library, where he always seemed to be nowadays... His brow was furrowed with that all-too-familiar determination, jaw tight as he scrawled down notes. The faint glow of the nearby lamp cast shadows across his face, making the already serious expression even more prominent.

Gabriel watched him from a few feet away, lounging lazily in one of the old leather armchairs, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. The archangel’s golden eyes sparkled with a glint of mischief, a look that promised trouble.

Gabriel loved his boyfriend dearly, but the man could get way too uptight.

The archangel sat boredly on the table, a sucker sticking out of his mouth. Sam had repeatedly demanded he get down, but where was the fun in listening?

Occasionally, the shorter man would pull a little trick… confetti, party blowers, anything to cause mischief. Sam’s frustration only grew, while his window of tolerance threatened to slam shut.

Why did he have to fall in love with a trickster?

When the archangel threw confetti at him for what felt like the millionth time, the Winchester slammed his hands against the table, his head snapping towards Gabriel.

“Knock it off, Gabe! I’m trying to work!”

Gabriel’s eyes widened with surprise, but the expression quickly morphed to one of cheekiness— like a persistent toddler that knew it was doing wrong, but couldn’t help pressing for the fun of it.

“Hey, Gigantor, you ever heard of a little thing called fun?”

The burning glare was enough of an answer…

“Oh, you must’ve misplaced that along with your sense of humor.” Gabriel jabbed, a smug smirk on his face.

The taller man sighed, rubbing his temples.

“Look, Gabe… I love you, but I’m trying to- AH!-”

All reasoning was thrown out the window the second Gabriel’s mischievous fingers found their way to Sam’s sides, wriggling away without mercy.

“Yeah, yeah, boring… this is way more fun!” He teased, poking and prodding wherever he could.

It took about a minute for Sam to crumble and beg for mercy…

“G-Gabe, please! I-I’ll do something fun with you or whatever! J-Just stohohop!…” The Winchester bargained, breathless and red in the face.

Satisfied, Gabriel pulled back, giving one last poke to Sam’s ribcage.

“Say no more, moose man! The couch awaits us!”

As Sam caught his breath, he couldn’t help but notice how much lighter he felt— the archangel always seemed to have that effect on him.

Besides, a little break couldn’t hurt…

[negans-lucille-tblr]

Can I just tag you in any fic I write?

I know I know other writers love it when they get tagged in any shit but I'm too shy to just do it that's why I rather ask if it's okay ❤

You’re welcome to tag me. I can’t guarantee I’ll read it. I tend to go through very particular phases when it comes to reading. Sometimes I’ll only be in the mood to read something very specific, so I tend to go looking for it. I don’t ask to be on tag lists because I’m very bad at getting to a fic when I’m actually tagged in it. I usually dedicate a certain time to read and then search for a fic to read in that time. I reblog fics that interest me to my drafts, so I can “bookmark” them for a time when I want to read that type of thing. I’m also always so busy with writing, I don’t read as much as I should (I’m trying to work on that)

Having said all that, I don’t mind being tagged at all, but yeah, just no guarantees I’ll read! All I ask is please don’t tag me in underage smut/age play or anything toilet related. I’m also not likely to read Destiel/Sastiel/Sabriel as they just don’t tickle my pickle (to be honest I barely read SPN that isn’t Dean/Sam or John) 😘

[majesticfox34556]

Bedtime Stories

Title: Bedtime Stories

Rating: T (Teen)

Word Count: 1,007

Pairing: Sabriel (Sam/Gabriel), Destiel (Dean/Cas), Past Castiel/Kelly Kline, Past Dean/Lydia (Amazon Lady), 

Tags: Fluff, Good Uncle Gabriel, Sam and Gabriel are watching Dean and Cas’ kids. Claire is Jimmy’s daughter. Cas and Jimmy are twins. Kid fic

Summary:  Gabriel and Sam were watching Dean and Cas' children for the weekend. Sam was cleaning up from dinner. When he went upstairs, what he saw, melted his heart.

“Another!”

“Tell us another!”

“Yeah. Nother.”

Sam watched his nephew and nieces coerce their Uncle into telling them another bedtime story.

“Okay. One more, then all you kiddos need to get to bed. You won’t be able to go see Mickey tomorrow if you don’t.” Gabriel tickled the youngest, Jack on the belly.

Jack squealed with laughter. “No. No. I wanna see Mickey.”

Jack was three years old. The next oldest was Claire at six. The oldest of them all was Emma and she was eight.

“I wanna see Mulan.” Claire scoffed. “Mickey is for babies.”

Jack’s eyes teared up. “I’m not a baby! Dad and Daddy says I’m a big boy.”

“Claire.” Gabriel warned. “Don’t be mean to your little brother. Or I won’t tell you the story of Gabriel the adventurer.”

Emma curled up next to Gabriel. “This has to be good. Are there any princesses in this story?”

“No. But there is a prince.” Gabriel held open his other arm. Claire tucked herself under it. Jack crawled into Gabriel’s lap.

“Oooh. Even better.” Emma snuggled closer.

“Once upon a time, in a kingdom far away, there lived a very thirsty peasant named Gabriel. Peasant Gabriel really wanted a glass of milk. But, there were no cows in the city that had any milk left to give.” Gabriel began.

Sam shook his head. It always amazed him how his husband could pull stories out of nowhere and make them the best story ever. Even ones about peasants and milk.

“Peasant Gabriel made a riot at the front gates of the palace. He demanded why there was no milk in the city. Prince Dean came to the gate with a huge scowl on his face.” Gabriel wove his tale with ease.

“What’s a scowl?” Claire asked. Her head was laying on Gabriel’s thigh.

“A mean and grumpy face.” Gabriel explained.

“Oh. You mean like the face Dad makes when he hears that you are coming over.” Emma teased.

Gabriel opened his mouth for a moment. He then snapped it shut. “We’ll come back to that. Now where was I?”

“Prince Dad just came to the gates.” Jack mumbled sleepily. His thumb was in his mouth.

“Right.” Gabriel nodded. “So… Peasant Gabriel demanded a glass of milk. He just wanted one little cupful. Prince Dean sent him away with an order that if he wanted milk, he would have to search the whole kingdom.”

The children gasped. “What a meanie.” Claire slurred.

“I know.” Gabriel looked up and caught Sam’s eye from where he was leaning against the doorframe. “Peasant Gabriel searched the whole kingdom. He went far and wandered through mountains and rivers and deserts and snow storms. But one day he came across this farmer milking his cows.” Gabriel’s voice gentled as one by one the kids dropped off the sleep.

“This farmer was named Sam. ‘Can I please have a small glass of milk, sir?’ Peasant Gabriel mumbled, his throat was so dry. ‘Sure.’ Farmer Sam replied. ‘Have a seat. I have salad in the house and some water in the jug. I’ll just be real quick getting some milk to go with our supper. I have lots of milk, too.”

Gabriel’s voice was now a whisper. “Peasant Gabriel never returned to the city or to see Prince Dean. Peasant Gabriel became Farmer Gabriel and he lived happily ever after with Farmer Sam in the small cottage at the edge of the kingdom. The end.”

Sam gave a small smile. Gabriel was buried under sleeping kids.

“A little help Moose?” He whispered.

Sam stepped into the room. He gently picked up Jack off Gabriel’s chest and tucked him into the spare bed in Gabriel and his house.

“Night Farmer Sam.” Jack muttered sleepily.

“Goodnight Jack.” Sam kissed his forehead.

He turned to see Gabriel tucking Claire in the other twin bed in the room. Gabriel had gently lowered Emma until she was laying on the floor.

Sam scooped up the almost teenager and laid her on the air mattress on the floor. “Goodnight Emma.” Sam kissed her forehead. He brushed a blonde curl from her face.

Gabriel met him at the door. “All tucked in like bugs in a rug.” Gabriel murmured.

Sam softly shut the door and headed down the hall to their room. “You’re good with them.” Sam complimented.

Gabriel and he climbed under the covers. Gabriel snorted. “I practically raised their dad. I damn well better be good with his offspring.”

“Do you…” Sam sighed. “I know I’ve brought it up before and you said no… I respect that. We weren’t in a good place then, but Gabriel? What about adopting? Do you feel up to that?”

“Hell no.” Gabriel swore. “The foster system is screwed to hell and back. Do you know how hard it is to get a baby? All the families want them and then when the kids are older no one wants them so they realize they are worthless and no one cares about them so they…”

“Gabriel.” Sam laid a hand on his ranting husbands arm. “I never said anything about a baby. Frankly, I think we have too much on our plates for an infant. I was thinking more of a teenager. Maybe a sibling pair or group?”

Gabriel relaxed. “Can we talk about it later? Give me the night to think it over?”

“Of course. This isn’t a decision we should make lightly. We need some sleep if we are going to be wrangling three kids at Disneyland tomorrow.” Sam laid down in the bed. He pulled Gabriel closer and tucked him into his body. “I love you. You are an amazing story teller.”

Gabriel scoffed. “I’m an author. I damn well better be.”

Sam chuckled. “Good night Farmer Gabriel.”

“Good night Farmer Sam.” Gabriel closed his eyes. Maybe he would make a good parental figure? He might have to give up eating candy in the mornings for breakfast. Gabriel thought of his sleeping nieces and nephew. Maybe it just might be worth it.

[wordstrings]

one way or another

Ship: optional. Fluff: mandatory. Words: 780.

—

Tap.

Sam didn’t so much as twitch a finger on his laptop.

Gabriel nudged his foot sideways again. Tap.

Nothing.

A clock ticked in the silence, the inexorable slog of time dragging itself forward, second by grim second. Gabriel could feel the cells in his body withering, dying, renewing; the endless, mindless cycle of death that sustained life. The wood of the bunker library table had been eighty years old when it was cut, he knew without effort. The rich grain lay dormant under his fingers, all its life dried up but the cells still remaining. Just as effortlessly, he knew how many there were: trillions upon trillions.

Tap.

Sam did not sigh.

And that was something. Because it had been a very obvious not-sigh, a rigid empty space of deliberate choice, and that meant Sam was paying attention. Gabriel smiled to himself, victorious, and kicked out to knock Sam’s chair leg again.

Tap.

SNAP.

Sam slapped the laptop shut and was out of his seat in the same motion, his chair skittering backwards on the hardwood floor, and oh shit, Gabriel needed to be up and booking it half an inexorable second ago. He scarcely managed to fling himself out of his own chair to avoid Sam’s grab for him, a miss of bare millimeters. He yipped as he scrambled away, only making it by frantic tweaks of Newtonian physics.

“C’mere, you fucker,” Sam thundered, a long-legged beast pitching after Gabriel with every ounce of speed his trained body knew well.

Gabriel’s decidedly not-trained body whipped around the corner of the other table. He yanked out a chair as he passed, needing every advantage to widen his margin of error by fractions of an inch.

Sam pounded over the chair, stride not hitching in the slightest, and the extra height from which he came plunging down at Gabriel gave new terrifying meaning to “death from above,” which was not a thought Gabriel could spare attention for as he cornered out of the room, hollering for his life.

Whereas a moment ago time had been a painful trudge, now every second was a second too short. Gabriel hurtled down the bare hall, not hunted but chased, with imminent annihilation snapping at his heels. He was continually only three hairs’ breadth ahead, hands slapping at the tiles for every push of velocity he could manage, all of his exalted attention focused on keeping the lead.

(He could fly away, of course, but that would be cheating and not nearly as much fun.)

A familiar doorway – Gabriel tore for it, hooking the molding with his fingers and slingshotting through it. More furniture – he dodged around it in a zigzagging escape maneuver. A way out – he pivoted–

– and was ripped from his trajectory, a fist seizing his shirt. He yelped as he was whirled about. Sam’s arms clamped around his middle, torquing his momentum up, up, off the ground, weightless for an instant, then plummeting back down. Gabriel screamed.

His back hit the couch cushions. He didn’t stop screaming.

Sam was a ferocious tickler.

Gabriel clawed at Sam’s hands, howling with laughter. There were fingers in his ribs, under his arms, squeezing across his belly, all of it seemingly at once, as though being limited to two hands was a constraint Sam had simply elected to ignore. The panic of the chase swerved into panic for sanity. Gabriel fought, shrieked, writhed, cackled. Sam tickled, tickled, tickled, tickled.

Far be it from him to admit defeat, but there were tears of laughter rolling down his cheeks and the cushions were too soft for any leverage and he Couldn’t. Make. Sam. Stop.

(Well, he could, but again with the cheating.)

“Uncle, uncle!” Gabriel wheezed instead.

Sam’s dreadful tickling fingers finally stopped, though not before getting in a few more tweaks to make sure he actually meant it.

Gabriel did not squeak, as a deliberate choice.

“So are you done?” Sam demanded. His voice still had that same thunderous undertone, but there was a grin tugging at the side of his mouth.

“Am I...?” Gabriel panted. “What about you?”

“You started it.”

Gabriel spastically covered his stomach when Sam moved, but all he did was stand up and offer Gabriel his hand.

“...Fine.” He at least had some residual chemicals to keep his brain entertained for a while. He took the offered hand and heaved himself up.

“Just so you know,” Sam said, “If you start pulling shit again, you’re going to find yourself angel-cuffed to a chair in the dungeon.”

“Ooh. Promise?” Gabriel waggled his brows.

Sam rolled his eyes, but failed to hide his amused smile. “Don’t push your luck.”

[thebest-medicine]

Sabriel :3

1. Who is more of a ler and who is more of a lee?

in this case, sam is almost always the lee and gabriel almost always the ler

2. Who (pretends) they hate being tickled and who openly admits it?

sam has been made to admit it many times now so its not really as bad, but gabriel would never in a million years admit it

3. Who prefers gentle tickles and who prefers getting Totally WreckedTM?

sam sorta prefers gentle tickles, but they inevitably end up with him being totally destroyed by gabriel bc hes a big meanie. gabe actually has fun with gentle tickles but sometimes feels overwhelmed when sam (on the rare occasion) actually gets him good

4. What are each of their most ticklish spots?

sam’s knees, feet, armpits. 

gabriel’s wings, stomach, feet, thighs, the list goes on.

5. Bondage? Pinned down? Tickle fights? Quick tickles in passing? What do each of them prefer?

gabriel HAS to be pinnned/have bondage of some kind for anyone to get the jump on him. sam usually gets a mix of all of this not that he minds.

6. Favorite tickle headcanons for this pair?

gabriel just loves coming in and WRECKING sam and making him giggle and beg. hes pretty much a sadist, but sam still loves him and enjoys having the chance to laugh and be carefree. sam likes to get gabriel back when he can but knows hes going to get whats coming to him like 1000x worse (its worth it)

[archangelgabriellives]

Lazy Mornings

for @flamerush101

sabriel prompt: early morning snuggles + fluff ensues please

~~

Sam woke up warm. 

Which in and of itself was nothing new. Sam usually ran hot as a furnace. But this morning, wrapped up in his thin sheets, the heat radiating at his back came from a different source. 

It was familiar, the feeling of Gabriel’s arms wrapped around Sam’s chest. They had been a thing for a little while now, and this was something that Sam liked. The security that came with being wrapped up in another’s grip. To be the one protected. 

Long, calloused fingers lightly grazed a path down Gabriel’s arm, and the archangel shifted closer in his sleep. The warm, soft breath at the back of his neck chased away any lingering thoughts of sleep, and Sam pushed back closer to the solid heat behind him. 

“It’s a little early for that, don't you think, Sam a lam?” Gabriel murmured sleepily. 

“Never,” Sam said through his lazy smile. “And as you've made so very clear,” he said with a slow wiggle of his hips, “you were never one to be against a little early morning fun.”

Gabriel groaned, curling closer into Sam’s back. “You're killing me here, kiddo.”

“That’s the idea, baby.” Sam undulated his body, his breathing getting more and more ragged as Gabriel’s hands traveled lower and lower. They tickled, probed, explored their way down the planes of muscles and tangled in the course hair just above the hem of Sam’s sleeping pants. 

Gabriel hummed, leaning forward to nibble on Sam’s ear. “Should I keep going?” he asked, running his finger along the elastic.

“Don't you dare stop.”