So We Might Live Anew Part 4
Sam comes to, and that’s his first clue that something went wrong. He’s pretty sure he was supposed to be sacrificed, which isn’t something one generally wakes up from. After coming to, he realizes three things: he’s soaked, he’s freezing, and there’s someone laying on top of him. He can feel the weight of a person on his chest, and the brush of damp hair against his chin. He really hopes it isn’t Lucifer, because that would be just his luck.
It’s light out now, so he must have been out for a few hours, at least. Above him, the sky is bright, and so light it’s nearly colorless. The body on top of him groans, and Sam pushes the person off of himself and sits up.
It turns out to be Gabriel, which is an improvement over Lucifer, definitely, but doesn’t really explain anything. It looks as though a small bomb went off in the surrounding area. The small clump of trees that had been some distance from the cliff face are uprooted and any grass or rocks that had been in the immediate vicinity are gone. In fact, the only things nearby are seaweed and a few dead fish that must have washed in with the giant wave. Which also explains why he and Gabriel are both wet, but not how they didn’t get dragged down with the wave.
“Ugh, someone get the number of that truck?” Gabriel asks, groggily, from beside Sam. He sits up. “I’m gonna be feeling that for a week.”
“Gabriel?” Sam asks, hope bleeding into his voice, “you’re ok?”
Gabriel frowns then, and it seems as though he’s inspecting himself internally. “We-ell...” he starts, and Sam’s hopes fall.
“Well, what?” Sam asks with some trepidation.
“Well, I don’t think I’m exactly an angel anymore.”
“What?” Sam says blankly, because if Gabriel’s not an angel, how’s he here? Is he human, now? Sam can’t really fathom that.
“I mean, when I saved your stupid self-sacrificing ass, I kinda died. A little. Apparently not entirely, since I’m still here, and-” he snaps his fingers and a Snickers bar appears in his hand. “And I still have some power. Just, y’know, I can’t feel any of my grace anymore. Must be down with Luci or something.” He shrugs. “Snickers?” he asks, offering it to Sam.
Sam stares. “Lucifer’s locked up again? And how can you do that if you don’t have any grace?”
“Yep, big bro’s locked up tight where only those assholes can get to him, now.” Gabriel smiles broadly, and just a little wickedly. “And hellooo, Trickster. You don’t spend centuries accepting sacrifices and playing tricks without getting some sort of benefit out of it. I’d been getting along just fine without using my grace before you came along, I’ll be just fine now.” He sounds just like he always has, but Sam can see Gabriel’s a little shaken to be here. Maybe he didn’t expect to survive this whole apocalypse thing.
Sam is forcefully reminded that Gabriel was only hanging around them because Sam is (was? he’s not sure) his vessel and needed to be protected. Now that that’s not an issue, Gabriel’s sure to leave and Sam realizes he doesn’t want that to happen. He likes Gabriel, likes his sense of humor and the annoying nicknames he comes up with for Sam and his obsession with sweet stuff. Likes his stupidly adorable smile and his stupidly attractive body and how despite his body’s size he radiates enough personality and power to make Sam forget their height difference.
But that doesn’t matter, he reminds himself. He’s not worthy of the attention of an archangel, even if said archangel is currently missing his angel-ness. Sam started the apocalypse, let Lucifer out of his cage of all things. He’s pretty sure that means he’s in for a lifetime of damnation.
“Well, thanks for saving me, I guess. You really didn’t have to, you know,” Sam tells Gabriel. “They weren’t going to come after you anymore.”
Gabriel rolls his eyes. “You really are a self-sacrificing idiot, aren’t you?” He grabs Sam’s chin and forces him to meet his eyes. “You’re only hearing this once, so listen good. I could no more have left you like that than I could willingly cease to exist. And I almost did, but it was for you, so.” His eyes are gentle, happy almost, reminding Sam of when Gabriel was just a janitor to whom he was inexplicably attracted. “You’re under my protection, kiddo. Can’t get rid of me so easily now.”
Sam freezes at this, and he knows he has that deer in the headlights look going on. This is what he wants, but he feels like he cheated somewhere, to get Gabriel like this. He can’t possibly deserve it.
“What?” Gabriel asks, dropping his hand to Sam’s leg.
“I’m not worth it, Gabriel. You don’t need to protect me anymore if you’re not an angel. And I’m tainted. Everything I did...”
Gabriel sighs. “We both have bloody pasts. Literally. Are you forgetting who you’re talking to? Blood sacrifices, virgin sacrifices, killing people in creative-yet-appropriate ways? If you think you’ve got a bad past, well...” he trails off pointedly. Sam gulps.
“You have a point,” he says. He sways, almost unconsciously, into Gabriel’s personal space. He can feel Gabriel’s breath on his cheek when he speaks.
“Hells yeah, I have a point. We’re just two lost sheep the shepherd hasn’t found yet.” He slides his hand up Sam’s leg slowly and Sam can feel every inch of it as it moves, every nerve in his body focusing on that touch. “Now, how about we get out of here, get dry, and do something a little more fun?”
And Gabriel referencing parables in a pick-up line only seems fitting, really. “Yeah,” Sam replies, “let’s go.”
end
It’s light out now, so he must have been out for a few hours, at least. Above him, the sky is bright, and so light it’s nearly colorless. The body on top of him groans, and Sam pushes the person off of himself and sits up.
It turns out to be Gabriel, which is an improvement over Lucifer, definitely, but doesn’t really explain anything. It looks as though a small bomb went off in the surrounding area. The small clump of trees that had been some distance from the cliff face are uprooted and any grass or rocks that had been in the immediate vicinity are gone. In fact, the only things nearby are seaweed and a few dead fish that must have washed in with the giant wave. Which also explains why he and Gabriel are both wet, but not how they didn’t get dragged down with the wave.
“Ugh, someone get the number of that truck?” Gabriel asks, groggily, from beside Sam. He sits up. “I’m gonna be feeling that for a week.”
“Gabriel?” Sam asks, hope bleeding into his voice, “you’re ok?”
Gabriel frowns then, and it seems as though he’s inspecting himself internally. “We-ell...” he starts, and Sam’s hopes fall.
“Well, what?” Sam asks with some trepidation.
“Well, I don’t think I’m exactly an angel anymore.”
“What?” Sam says blankly, because if Gabriel’s not an angel, how’s he here? Is he human, now? Sam can’t really fathom that.
“I mean, when I saved your stupid self-sacrificing ass, I kinda died. A little. Apparently not entirely, since I’m still here, and-” he snaps his fingers and a Snickers bar appears in his hand. “And I still have some power. Just, y’know, I can’t feel any of my grace anymore. Must be down with Luci or something.” He shrugs. “Snickers?” he asks, offering it to Sam.
Sam stares. “Lucifer’s locked up again? And how can you do that if you don’t have any grace?”
“Yep, big bro’s locked up tight where only those assholes can get to him, now.” Gabriel smiles broadly, and just a little wickedly. “And hellooo, Trickster. You don’t spend centuries accepting sacrifices and playing tricks without getting some sort of benefit out of it. I’d been getting along just fine without using my grace before you came along, I’ll be just fine now.” He sounds just like he always has, but Sam can see Gabriel’s a little shaken to be here. Maybe he didn’t expect to survive this whole apocalypse thing.
Sam is forcefully reminded that Gabriel was only hanging around them because Sam is (was? he’s not sure) his vessel and needed to be protected. Now that that’s not an issue, Gabriel’s sure to leave and Sam realizes he doesn’t want that to happen. He likes Gabriel, likes his sense of humor and the annoying nicknames he comes up with for Sam and his obsession with sweet stuff. Likes his stupidly adorable smile and his stupidly attractive body and how despite his body’s size he radiates enough personality and power to make Sam forget their height difference.
But that doesn’t matter, he reminds himself. He’s not worthy of the attention of an archangel, even if said archangel is currently missing his angel-ness. Sam started the apocalypse, let Lucifer out of his cage of all things. He’s pretty sure that means he’s in for a lifetime of damnation.
“Well, thanks for saving me, I guess. You really didn’t have to, you know,” Sam tells Gabriel. “They weren’t going to come after you anymore.”
Gabriel rolls his eyes. “You really are a self-sacrificing idiot, aren’t you?” He grabs Sam’s chin and forces him to meet his eyes. “You’re only hearing this once, so listen good. I could no more have left you like that than I could willingly cease to exist. And I almost did, but it was for you, so.” His eyes are gentle, happy almost, reminding Sam of when Gabriel was just a janitor to whom he was inexplicably attracted. “You’re under my protection, kiddo. Can’t get rid of me so easily now.”
Sam freezes at this, and he knows he has that deer in the headlights look going on. This is what he wants, but he feels like he cheated somewhere, to get Gabriel like this. He can’t possibly deserve it.
“What?” Gabriel asks, dropping his hand to Sam’s leg.
“I’m not worth it, Gabriel. You don’t need to protect me anymore if you’re not an angel. And I’m tainted. Everything I did...”
Gabriel sighs. “We both have bloody pasts. Literally. Are you forgetting who you’re talking to? Blood sacrifices, virgin sacrifices, killing people in creative-yet-appropriate ways? If you think you’ve got a bad past, well...” he trails off pointedly. Sam gulps.
“You have a point,” he says. He sways, almost unconsciously, into Gabriel’s personal space. He can feel Gabriel’s breath on his cheek when he speaks.
“Hells yeah, I have a point. We’re just two lost sheep the shepherd hasn’t found yet.” He slides his hand up Sam’s leg slowly and Sam can feel every inch of it as it moves, every nerve in his body focusing on that touch. “Now, how about we get out of here, get dry, and do something a little more fun?”
And Gabriel referencing parables in a pick-up line only seems fitting, really. “Yeah,” Sam replies, “let’s go.”
end