Sabriel Minibang Fic: Apraxia Only Makes the Heart Grow Fonder, Part 3
Part 1 Part 2
“So, I swear, the dick didn’t even know what hit him, Sammy.” Gabriel grinned down at the tall man who was half propped up on pillows. The swelling on his face had lessened; there was still a dull yellowing around his left eye and some darker blue along his right jaw line. There was a gauze bandage circling his head, keeping the newly sewn up wound from his surgery in the field, clean.
“No...” Sam paused and the pause grew, Sam’s brow furrowing. Gabriel reached over and grabbed the man’s good hand, Sam had shouted earlier, words that didn’t make sense. Gabriel’s heart had stayed in his throat for a couple years.
“That’s right Sammy boy. No underwear or pants to be found, in the middle of town.” Gabriel grinned. “Deserved it too, after what he did to Anna.”
“Annaster?”
“You remembered, I’m so proud.” Gabriel grinned. Sam lifted his hand and thumped it down on Gabriel’s. Gabriel figured that was the man’s current equivalent of punching him in the shoulder.
“Get offa me, you demon woman!” A loud voice suddenly echoed into their room. Gabriel made to stand up when suddenly Sam was clutching his hand. He glanced back, noticing Sam’s wide eyes. Ok. Clearly someone the man knew. “I don’t give a shit about visiting hours. You will let me in to see my brother or so help me...” Gabriel rolled his eyes.
Pulling his hand away from Sam, he marched over to the door to take in the sight of Elspeth holding a young, rather handsome man to a wall with a hand. Elspeth was, well, someone Gabriel had learned not to cross very quickly in the last two and a half days since Sam had been admitted. She was big, she was strong and she didn’t take crap from anyone.
“Well aren’t you just adorable, going all alpha male on the woman who’s helping your brother get better” Elspeth shot him a glare and Gabriel mock raised his hands in surrender. Elspeth hated any intimation that she liked the patients she worked with. She was kind of like a suit of armor surrounding marshmallow fluff, Gabriel mused.
“Shut the fuck up. I’m here to see my brother and none of you are gonna stop me.”
“Hey, hey, hey, language buddy. I’m just here to help. I’ll be glad to go sit with Sam again and ignore you when you’re tossed out of the hospital.” The taller man had greenish eyes, Gabriel noted, and freckles.
“You gonna help me or just stand there?”
“You will respect your elders young man,” Elspeth interrupted. She always was one for nonsequiters. He rolled his eyes.
“Elspeth, I will look after Dean here until he leaves. You trust me right?”
“Why would I trust you?” She spat. “He’s my patient and don’t think you’re allowed in...”
“We both know exactly why I’m allowed to hang around.” Gabriel narrowed his eyes at her and her mouth closed with a snap. “And I’ll watch him. And Sam. Don’t make me find Castiel.” Elspeth stared at him for a moment before stepping back slightly, lip curled in a snarl.
“See? I told you. Nothing can keep me from my brother.” Dean sidled out of Elspeth’s way and around Gabriel before darting into Sam’s room.
Gabriel followed. There were things Castiel had not yet told Dean and well, it would be funny to watch Dean figure it out. For a moment.
“Sam!” Dean was across the room in a second, standing over his brother, hands fisting awkwardly. Gabriel leaned against the door jam. It wasn’t his place to interrupt but the man was... volatile. It came with being a ranger. Damp everything down, don’t express emotions, those are for girls and there are no girls in the Rangers, right?
How Sam had been in the Marines, without being as emotionally constipated as this idiot in front of him, was a mystery. He had actually been rather jealous of how self possessed Sam was about how he was feeling.
“De’n” Gabriel stepped to the side, catching a glimpse of Sam’s face, bitch face five. And no, it wasn’t weird to count. The man had a lot of bitch faces. It was part of what had kept Gabriel in Sam’s bed three months ago. Well. Sort of. Mostly, it was the hot sex.
“You’re gonna be outta that bed in no time, Sammy. Hardly a scratch on you!” Punch to the shoulder.
That was bitch face thirteen. A new one. Gabriel hid a smile. “Dean, pur...” Sam’s hand clenched and Gabriel found himself standing on the opposite side of the bed from Dean.
“Relax Samsquatch. I can interpret! You’ll owe me but I think you know exactly how to repay me.” He leered and Sam had the grace to blush and roll his eyes.
“Ugh gross man. Isn’t there some law against perving on your patient?”
“Oh Sammy boy’s not my patient. Just my lover,” Gabriel purred with a grin, sitting on the edge of the bed and laying a hand on Sam’s thigh (which he probably couldn’t feel all that well, with all the drugs going through his system).
“Ahhh, don’t tell me that shit!” Dean reared back from him disgusted and Gabriel frowned, looking down at Sam.
“I didn’t just out you, did I? Samsquatch?” A slight shake of his head. “Good! So it’s just your brother being a bag of dicks. No offense,” he said, without looking at Dean.
“What the hell, Sam?”
“And you’re the only reason I’m still clothed.” Gabriel waggled his eyebrows.
Dean stared, fish eyed for a moment before speaking again. “Dude. You’re in a hospital.” Dean turned towards his brother, face alight in righteous fury, “Sammy, you can’t be letting this man talk about you like that.”
Sam wrinkled his brow. Gabriel knew what was happening and wished they’d moved along in healing long enough for the speech therapist to have started working with Sam. But they hadn’t, it had only been a week since this had all started, two and a half days since he’d arrived at this hospital. He squeezed the man’s thigh and caught Sam’s panicked eyes. Take your time, he mouthed and there was another tiny nod. “Ssss,” Sam’s hands fisted up, “Ss-ookay.”
“What’s... Sammy?” Dean was suddenly right up against the bed, leaning over it to be honest. Sam’s eyes closed and his lips thinned, swallowing convulsively. “What the hell, man? Why aren’t you talking right?”
“Fuck, Dean. Get out! You’re upsetting him.” Gabriel stood, moving to push him out of the room and knock some sense into him.
“No - G’brel”, steel in that voice and Gabriel froze, remembering that tone from when he’d first spent time with Sam. He was all cheer and give until you hit the steel core and then the man was immovable.
“Yeah. Gabriel,” taunted Dean and Gabriel rolled his eyes.
“Fffff...” Sam broke off and raising his free hand, flipped his brother off. That shut him up pretty quickly.
“What’s going on?” Dean finally asked, not looking at anyone in particular.
Gabriel sighed. “What did Castiel tell you?”
“Who the fuck is Castiel?”
“That would be me. I’m Sam’s doctor, Doctor Novak.” Castiel stood at the end of the bed. Sam’s brother and Gabriel snorted.
“Jesus Christ!” Dean jumped, spinning fast to look at the man.
“I’m not Jesus Christ.”
“What? No, of course you aren’t! What...” Dean went from startled to flustered in the space of a second and Gabriel snorted. He’d long since gotten used to Castiel’s inherent obliviousness to common turns of phrase, pop culture references and, if he was being honest, pretty much everything besides his work and the few people who cared for him.
“Don’t bother. My brother’s never gotten used to colloquial language. Always talks like he’s got a stick up his ass. Don’t you Castiel?” Gabriel smiled affectionately, moving to ruffle the man’s hair.
Castiel shifted to the side, avoiding his hand. “Gabriel, you are being deliberately rude.”
“Comes like breathing. You know that. Now, whatcha gonna tell us about Sammy-boy?”
“Wait... You two are brothers?” Dean shifted his gaze between the two and Gabriel sighed.
“Can’t you see the family resemblance?”
“Not really,” Dean said.
“Probably because we have different mothers.” Gabriel said offhandedly.
“We don’t share genetic composition unless you count the infinitesimal link that all humans share,” Castiel said.
“Then, you know what? I give up. You two are the strangest humans on the planet and I don’t know why I have to put up with this shit. Sam’s got to have a real doctor around,” Dean glanced back at the door and Gabriel could see the wheels turning. Slowly.
“You’re going to put up with it because Castiel’s the best doctor around. And you haven’t been putting up with anything. You’ve been kicking and screaming like a three year old since you stepped foot in this hospital.” Gabriel frowned at the man.
“Sam’s my little brother. He’s all I got. He deserves the best.” There was the desperation again and Gabriel softened. Even if he was an ass and they didn’t get along, Dean loved his brother and Sam needed someone like that. Speaking of, he sat on the edge of the bed and leaned against the man, sending him a small smile.
“Castiel, I thought you explained to Dean what happened.” Gabriel started.
“I tried, but Dean Winchester hung up as soon as I said Sam and what hospital. He would not let me speak.”
“Jock er.” Sam rasped from the bed. Gabriel turned his head back to Sam just in time to see him rolling his eyes affectionately.
“Bitch,” Dean says with a grin, his worry seemingly vanished into thin air, unless you looked too closely at his eyes, Gabriel realized.
“Sam, I...um, I’ve got a shift in a couple hours. I’ll come back after, yeah?” He says, leaning over and brushing his lips against the man’s. He loved how Sam responded even while lying beat up in a hospital bed. “Mmm, miss me, won’t you?”
“Yes,” Sam even smiled at him and Gabriel felt his heart fill. He didn’t know why, he barely knew the man but here he was at his bedside during one of the hardest points in his life.
****
The noise books made when thrown into a wall was totally unsatisfying, Sam decided sitting in his wheelchair. Dean was there, his doctor who had insisted Sam address him as Castiel, and his newly met speech therapist, Jo. Jo had spent the last thirty minutes trying to get him to say Dean in all manner of different ways and Dean being Dean and uncomfortable with all the unintentional attention being directed his way had tried to turn it into a joke.
“Mr Winchester...” Sam turned to look back at Jo who was pursing her lips,lost in thought as she stared at him and then at Castiel, who was standing just beside Dean. He was staring at Dean. Dean was staring back. Right. Of course. The first time Dean ever starts exhibiting interest in someone of the same sex would be when Sam was prostrate in a hospital bed, unable to even point it out. Figured. “Dean, Samuel’s”
“He goes by Sam.” Dean scowled and Sam’s lips twitched.
“Do I have to explain Sam’s injuries to you again?” The man’s face was implacable, head slightly tilted to the side as he studied Sam’s brother.
“I think I understand what’s going on here Doc. I ain’t an idiot just because I’m in the military. It’s Sam who’s the jarhead.” Dean crossed his arms over his chest and lifted his chin, filling the room with testosterone.
When had Sam become a pawn in his own damn life. Oh. Yes. When his best friend died and he’d lost his ability to say anything that actually made sense. Damn his inability to speak. He took the only thing left to throw near him, his pillow, and chucked it as hard as he could at his brother. Too bad it wouldn’t give his brother a concussion and brain damage. He didn’t know how to keep his mouth shut.
“Fuck you, bitch.” Dean crossed his arms.
“Dean, your brother is severely injured, you ought to be a little more patient. IF this is too frustrating for you, you can go take a walk. Jo Harvelle and I can handle Sam...” Sam studied Castiel. There was something about him that Sam could see dug into his brother, like a missing piece. It reminded him of last week when the two had first met and Gabriel had hightailed it out of there…
“You know what. Just tell me. Obviously something’s wrong.” Castiel was standing all of six inches from his Dean, which normally would be hilarious, but Sam could hardly breathe. Why hadn’t Cas told him already, why was he finding out now? He was acting like a giant girl, as Dean would say.
“Your brother’s head trauma has caused some language difficulties.” Dean’s fist was at his mouth and Sam leaned over to punch him in the leg.
“Ow! Sammy,” Dean glared down at him and Sam smiled. “So. What’s that mean?”
“You heard your brother earlier.” Castiel paused, frowning. He turned to Sam. “Forgive me, Samuel, I had wished to tell you on your own, but there was an emergency and then your brother arrived earlier than anticipated. I have not come to a firm diagnosis, as what I believe you have requires a differential diagnosis and I need to call in a colleague who is a speech-pathologist.”
“A what?” Dean butted in and Sam hit him in the leg again. “Ow! Fine!”
“I believe the head trauma you suffered caused some damage to the speech centers in your brain, causing the trouble you’ve been experiencing when communicating. Since you can form words and appear to understand what people have said… I do not think it is the most severe version you could… experience.” Sam frowned, squinting up at the man. It was becoming rather harder to focus on him. And well, he would quite like to fall asleep at the moment.
“Tt-tii-tii red” Sam sad, waving a hand generally in his brother’s direction, who grabbed it, for once silent as stone.
“If you have questions, you may ask later, any of the nurses can find me.” Sam hummed a little and let his head sink deeper into the rather flat uncomfortable pillow.
****
Gabriel looked around his apartment, analyzing it for the first time with an eye to someone who had significant mobility issues. The little coffee table would have to be moved, as it blocked most of the living room. The chairs around the kitchen table would have to be reorganized and kept neatly as opposed to in their usual haphazard positions and he would have to speak to the management about making sure the elevator did not break down.
And the spare room would have to be cleaned and organized. After all, he wasn’t sure if Sam wanted to sleep in the same bed. If you’d asked him two weeks ago if he would ever consider sharing his apartment, well, his answer would have been shock and dismay. Yet here he was. He shook his head as he shoved the dining table over and picked up the chair he had unintentionally knocked over.
Sam needed him. Him specifically; it had been a long time since anyone had. Of course, the big moose probably wouldn’t like moving in with him and losing his independence, but since his diagnosis of Apraxia of Speech and the fact that he had a broken leg and cracked ribs, well his mobility would be severely hampered. Was severely hampered. They’d gotten him walking yesterday, he and Dean there to watch and, well, Sam had been exhausted and all he’d been doing was walking to the bathroom so he could have a shower.
It was only a matter of days before he would be allowed to come home... Here, Gabriel’s home. Sam’s was, well, it was what it was. But it was a walk up. Sam wouldn’t be able to even have a semblance of independent movement in and out of the apartment if he went back there. That’s what he told himself anyways.
****
Sam scratched unconsciously at his cast, hands unable to stay still. He’d been here in San Diego, in this hospital for a good three weeks, his brother showing up three days in, and barely leaving his side until now. Gabriel had been around as often as his job would let him and Sam was grateful to see him, even if it did mean that Dean sniped low ball comments at Gabriel for unknown reasons, which kept him from fighting with Sam. Sam didn’t have the energy for it and he hadn’t even realized Gabriel had somehow defused or deflected the brothers’ bickering until he wasn’t there this evening. It had come as a shock to realize it when he’d suddenly started bickering over some stupid thing Dean had done. He loved his brother, he really did, but sometimes he was a dense blockhead. He was far quicker to Sometimes, Sam wondered if Dean threw himself into the most dangerous situations he could because he was afraid to face himself.
“Samuel Winchester.” The low growl of his doctor’s voice surprised him out of his melancholy for a moment. He blinked.
“Sam.” He sounded out his own name carefully. That was progress. This voice therapist really did know what she was talking about. “Sam.” He repeated, quieter this time.
“Sam.” The man corrected, stone faced. “I’m about to go off my shift, but Gabriel wanted me to ask if there was anything you needed, that if you were in need of anything at all, that you should tell me and I should fulfill your need.” Castiel was staring at him as if he hadn’t just practically propositioned his brother’s... well; Sam didn’t know what he and Gabriel were. They’d only spent one amazing weekend together. Now here he was a cripple who couldn’t talk and Sam was pretty sure Gabe had put the doctor up to this when Sam couldn’t tell him off.
“Dean.” Sam paused, unconsciously scrunching up his face in concentration as his doctor’s blue eyes bored into him, patiently waiting whatever it was he was going to say. “F-fight”. He gestured towards himself. “Bar.” Sam huffed, frustrated at his inability to communicate what needed to be said.
“Your brother, Dean Winchester, you fought with him. He has…retreated to a…bar?” Castiel was staring at him and Sam sighed. He didn’t know how or why, but Castiel - Doctor Novak - always seemed to know what he was saying. Dean had so much trouble, it was probably why they’d been fighting anyways and Gabe was better after a couple days of listening to him, but sometimes he didn’t listen.
Sam nodded. “You.” He stared at his doctor, willed the man to understand what he meant. “You.” He repeated himself.
Doctor Novak looked at him for a long while and Sam searched for a way to make his voice communicate what he meant. “You youu... B-Dean. Ba-Bar.” He really did need to do those exercises his speech therapist had given him. Even if they sounded ridiculous.
“You wish for me to follow Dean to the bar. How am I to know which bar? I imagine there are several around here.” The man wasn’t even putting up a fuss about using his (probably minimal) down time to search out the brother of one of his very many patients. Whose brother hadn’t even been particularly kind or even polite to the man.
“S’D-Dean. Chair. Heap. Cleat.” Sam played with the sounds a little as he stumbled to get his message across.
“That doesn’t clarify anything for me.”
Sam huffed, feeling laughter bubble up in him, threatening to pour out of him. “G’br’el. Call. Calll. A Ah- Ask. Assssk. Kuh.”
Castiel nodded once, pulling out his phone as he swept out of the room again, leaving Sam to twiddle his thumbs and stare at the ceiling.
*****
“So, what’s lover boy up to today?” Pamela flopped down next to him at the nurses’ station, bright green scrubs and neon orange keds glaring at him.
“I think he’s practicing G’s.”
“He’s gonna be rich, then, ain’t he?” She chortled a little.
Oh, ha, ha.” Gabriel signed off on some form or other and turned to face his best work friend. “He’s actually getting quite a bit better. They’re letting him out day after tomorrow…” He trailed off as he realized that he was actually going to have to convince him that Gabriel’s apartment was a far better choice. It wasn’t like Sam could maneuver stairs yet, not to mention the whole language thing.
“You still haven’t asked? What the hell were you thinking, Gabriel?” Pam pulled a face at him and he stuck his tongue out. “You have to ask tonight, Gabriel.”
He glared at her. She stared right back. A moment’s pause, then “Fine! Fine. You win. I’ll do it.”
“Great! Then you should probably know your shift ended five minutes ago.”
“I... what?” Gabriel glanced at the computer’s clock. So it had. 7:05pm. Huh.
“Go get ‘em boy.”
“I’m not a boy, Pammy.” Gabriel said as he gathered his phone and wallet. He’d change in the dressing room.
“And I’m not a three year old. But that doesn’t stop you from calling me one.” Gabriel rolled his eyes. She called him a three year old far more often. “Goodbye, Pam.”
“Make sure you promise him lots and lots of sex!” She called after him in a loud whisper. He pretended not to hear her. He’d probably follow her advice, but he didn’t want her to know that.
A half hour later, he stood outside of Sam’s hospital room, listening to the quiet rumble of Dean’s voice and the stilted replies from Sam. He was getting better; he was actually able to communicate what he wanted to communicate. Sometimes. And of course, you had to have Castiel the magic translator around to get more than the gist of what he was saying sometimes, but Jo said it was a shock he’d gotten to this level already.
He stepped in. “Sammy moose, I’ve been looking forward to this moment all day, if you know what I mean,” he winked at Dean who wrinkled his face in disgust, “and I think you do.” He leaned down, kissing Sam briefly.
“Hel-lo,” Sam said, a slight smile on his face. Gabriel’s soul lifted, and he found himself grinning back.
“Hi.”
Sam grabbed his hand and he squeezed it, staring into the man’s brown eyes until the pesky older brother coughed loudly, obviously. Gabriel rolled his eyes. “And how was your day, Deano?”
“Oh, it was fantastic.” Dean sat slumped in his chair.
“That hangover treating you well?”
“Fuck you too.”
“Perfectly, I see then,” Gabriel said with a grin, remembering when Castiel had called him last night, asking all sorts of odd questions about shifty bars. It hadn’t made any sense until his brother had admitted that Sam had asked him to go after Dean. Then it had just been plain hilarious.
“Cas - Day. Leaf?”
“Right! I almost forgot.” Gabriel said. Sam glared. “Ok, not really.”
“So? Cas said when Sammy here gets to leave? He let it slip to you?”
“End of day Thursday.” Gabriel said, smiling at Dean who, for once, returned it with a grin of his own.
“T-t days tuuhh days.”
“That’s right, Sammy boy, two days.” Gabriel inhaled. “Listen, you’re still going to be pretty immobile once they let you get outta here. I was thinking… your apartment, there’s no elevator and Dean here can’t be babysitting you all the time, right? So, why don’t you stay with me for a couple weeks, ‘til that leg of yours heals enough to handle stairs?” Gabriel studied his hands.
“I can so!” Dean protested, standing in a fluid motion.
“And what about when you have to go back to the Rangers? I’m shocked they’ve let you stay this long.” Gabriel barely spared a glance for Dean, instead focusing his energy on reading Sam’s expressions.
Which were... about as he expected. Surprised. Annoyed. Bitch face twenty quickly followed by four. “Nn Nno.”
“Why not, Sammyboy?”
“T-t-toooo much.” Gabriel leaned over and grabbed the whiteboard Castiel had been brilliant enough to leave around yesterday, handing it silently to the man who took it, grimacing. Gabriel turned his attention back to Dean for the moment as Sam wrote out what he wanted to say.
“So when did the Rangers give you ’til?” Gabriel asked, smirk solidly in place.
“Fuck you.”
“I prefer your brother. And that soon, then, huh?” Gabriel rolled his shoulders, shrugging off the tension.
“What do you know about family leave?” Dean said, sarcastically.
“Way more than I ever cared to learn.” Gabriel took the white board and looked down. You’ve done too much already, I can’t ask you to give up your space too. I’ll manage.
“Sammy boy, you’re fun to be around. I’m a nurse! My apartment’s big enough for the both of us, there’s even a second bedroom. Well, it’s a study right now, but it’s meant to be a second bedroom. I’ve dusted off the futon and everything! Come on, say yes.”
Sam frowned again, -bitch-face 13, before scribbling on the dry erase board. I’d be a burden. We’ve barely dated. I don’t know why you’re doing this all for me. Gabriel laid a hand down, caressing Sam’s upper arm. He knew this conversation was coming, but he’d been avoiding it.
“Ugh. You know what, you saps figure your shit out. I’ll be back later when my brother stops being a girl. See ya Sammy.” Dean was out of the room in about one second flat. Gabriel quirked an eyebrow at Sam who snorted, showed his whiteboard again: Can’t handle emotions. They’re not ‘manly’.
“I always knew you were the right pick between you and your brother.” Gabriel hummed slightly to himself as the scratching of the marker on the whiteboard filled the room.
You didn’t meet my brother until last week. And you haven’t answered my question!.
“You’re a persistent ass, you know that?” Gabriel asked. “Well, your ass is quite cute…” He trailed off for a moment, trying to find the words. “The way you treated me, it reminded me how good people can be just when I’d given up on anyone beyond my closest friends and family. Now, now, don’t go looking so shocked, I can pretend to like people just as much as anyone, thank you. You were good for me.” He wriggled his eyebrows. Sam snorted. “And someone else did something for me that I need to repay and... Well, I can’t repay it to him, so I have to pay it forward.” Gabriel stared at the ceiling for a moment, letting the wave of emotions crash through him, willing his eyes to stay dry.
There was a tugging on his arm. But why ME?
Gabriel laughed, letting his emotions go, feeling the laughter ripple through his abdomen and shake his shoulders. At Sam’s touch on his knee, he met the man’s eyes and felt his world go still and quiet. It was funny, how that switch could flip with hardly any notice. “Because you noticed me.” Bitch-face number six. He really would have to trademark these.
“Ww what?”
“Aw, Sammy, don’t make me say it!” He stuck his bottom lip out, exaggerating a pout. Sam stared at him. He rolled his eyes. “Look, I’m not telling you everything about my life because even if you’re moving in with me for a bit, you don’t get that yet,” he shook a finger in Sam’s face, “but let’s just say I was wallowing in the memories of an incredibly awful part of my life so I went to that bar, the bar tender turned me down and then you walked in and as soon as you did, everything started… picking up.”
Stop with the terrible innuendos!
“Never. And just to be clear, I’m paying forward a gift that was given to me. And it’s a temporary solution until you’re mobile enough and coherent enough to function on your own. So don’t go getting ideas about staying forever... Though if you ask nicely…” Gabriel waggled his eyebrows. A snort. He did so love how expressive Sam could be.
“Basically, you’re not going to be much of a burden on me and your brother’s gonna have to go back to wherever it was he was and we can’t have you immobile. And you’ll be helping me pay it forward in a spectacular fashion. Just say yes already, Sammy.”
A grimace and then the scratching of the pen. Fine. As long as you never call me Sammy again.
“Deal. As long as I can use any other nickname. Because I wouldn’t be myself if I didn’t have creative awesome nicknames.”
“Fffine.”
“Then it’s settled.”
So long as we both know this is temporary and that I am not trying to mooch off of you.
“Duh.” Gabriel grinned and Sam smiled back at him.
******
Gabriel collapsed down onto his couch, moved to put up his feet on this coffee table before realizing he’d moved it far enough away so Sam could maneuver on his crutches. He let his legs fall to the floor instead. The clink of the crutches came closer and Sam carefully lowered himself onto the couch as well. Dean was standing by the edge of the kitchen, beer (That Gabriel had provided, thank you very much) in hand talking to Castiel. Well. Dean was rambling and Castiel was standing, as he was wont, far too close. Gabriel had tried, but Castiel had never learned. Yet Dean didn’t seem too bothered. Speaking of.
“Hey Dean, you never said... What’d you think when Castiel here showed up at whatever hole in the wall you found the other day?” Gabriel took a swig of his own beer.
The reaction was even better than anticipated. Dean choked mid swallow on the beer, nearly spraying it all over Castiel. The man had shown up the next day with a black eye and seemed to be favoring his left shoulder. Gabriel had opened his mouth to ask then, only to be stopped by a severe poke in his side from Sam.
“Dean was drunk when I arrived at the correct bar. He was engaging in what I believe is typically called a ‘bar brawl.’ I pulled him out of it and we left.” Castiel spoke up. Gabe’s eyebrows rose. Castiel avoided conflict usually, finding it a troubling reminder of their shared past. That he would spend more than a second watching a fight was remarkable.
“Dean…” Sam said, frowning.
“Yeah Sammy, I know.” Dean crossed his arms. “Can’t do anything now it’s over, right?”
Gabriel shifted uncomfortably.
“So! How about we watch a movie? I’ve got about a million.” Gabriel grinned into the tense silence that had fallen over them. There was a chorus of yes’s and he sighed a breath of relief.
*****
The door closed behind Dean as he shouted one more: “Sure you’ll be ok?” through it. Gabriel sighed, slumping back against the door. Sam leaned on his crutches in front of him, arched eyebrows.
“Spatial bugger.”
“Yes, Sam. I’m a social butterfly.” Gabe didn’t know why he knew what the man was trying to say, but he did. “But, pardon my French, thank fuck they’re gone.”
“Sexy tomes…” Sam frowned and Gabriel felt a smile grow, bubbling up in his chest. He snorted.
“Well… I can’t say no to an offer like that. But I have a feeling you meant that you were sleepy?” Gabriel stepped forward, running a hand over Sam’s face, over the stubbly hair that was just starting to grow out again and trailing down his chest. “Mm, Samsquatch, I ever tell you just how sexy I find your chest?” He looked up at the man with a slight smile.
“You.” A pause. “Yes.”
“Yes to what, Sam?” Gabriel asked, leaning up to steal a kiss, just a brush of lips. Sam smiled lightly and followed him down, kissing him again, deepening the kiss, tongue demanding entrance that Gabriel gladly gave. He hummed a little, deep in his throat before breaking apart.
“Don’t want your arms to fall asleep...” Gabriel waggled his eyebrows before turning and making his way to his bedroom. “Might have use for them yet!” Sam’s exhaustion showed as he followed on his crutches. He’d become proficient quite quickly, but... well, it had been a very long day.
As soon as Sam was sitting on his bed, looking rather distinctly out of place, Gabriel moved again, closing the door and taking Sam’s crutches and putting them by the side of the bed he never slept on. Moving back, he saw Sam trying to remove his shirt. Gabriel stopped him, kissing him lightly as he stood over him. Not that there was much of a height difference now that Sam was sitting (He had an unusually tall bed in his defense).
He grasped the edge of Sam’s t-shirt and pulled it up slowly, letting his knuckles graze Sam’s abs, neatly missing the areas where he’d had stitches in until recently. Sam raised his arms obediently and Gabriel pulled his shirt off before helping him wiggle his way back onto the bed, taking the loose pajama pants that were the only thing he currently owned that fit around his cast as they went. He crawled over Sam, letting the man lie still. He wasn’t totally asleep though, Gabriel could tell from the half erect cock pressing up at Sam’s boxers. He straddled Sam’s stomach and leaned down to thoroughly kiss him, shamelessly brushing his own cock against the taller man’s stomach, letting the sensations shoot through him. This was exactly where he was supposed to be.
There were flashes of light, spatters of blood in the room and Sam couldn’t control his breathing, gasping, sucking at the thin air, trying not to inhale smoke instead of oxygen. There was a fire in the next room and Brady was standing in the doorway, the flames licking at his feet, his hands. He was practically on fire and Sam shouted for him to get away, but his best friend just looked at him as if it was Sam’s own damn fault. He looked over to see Gabriel sleeping peacefully and tried to get out of bed only to find he didn’t have legs. He shouted for Brady to move but no noise came out of his mouth. Brady’s hand slowly raised and Sam suddenly collapsed into a ball of pain, like a burning knife was thrust into his side. Someone was shouting his name, but it wasn’t Brady. No. He choked, sobbed and then he was awake, gasping, sucking in air.
There wasn’t any smoke in the air, just a quiet dark room and he focused on the ceiling fan, watching it drift lazily around. Slowly, he became aware of the fact that his hand was encapsulated in someone else’s hands and there were quiet words being spoken. He turned his head to see Gabriel sitting in the bed, holding his hand and speaking softly, as if he would spook at the first loud noise. He moaned a little and Gabriel smiled a sad little smile that drew Sam farther from his night terror into the evening.
“Do you wanna talk about it, Sam?” Gabriel’s voice was quiet, serious and Sam almost said yes but then something stuck in his throat and he remembered that words weren’t his friend and he couldn’t. He couldn’t talk about Brady yet. So he kissed Gabriel instead, ignoring the way that the salt of his tears dripped down his face, infiltrated his kisses.
*****
Sam vaguely heard the alarm go off the next morning before the loud slap of a hand knocking into wood and plastic, shutting the noise off and mumbled cursing before a lithe body slid up to his, hand coming to rest on his pectoral muscles.
“Good morning Sam-a-lam.”
“Every...” Sam felt the truth crash over him as he heard his mouth say something completely differently from what he’d told it to say. He breathed in, raising his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.
“Out through your mouth,” the voice was quiet, the hand rubbing on his chest lightly. He let the air sail out of his lungs, letting his eyes open slowly, finding a pair of hazel eyes looking at him seriously.
“Gab-ay” A smile slid over the man’s face.
“That’s me!” He said while leaning over and brushing his lips across Sam’s. “Now, I have to go to work today. I’ll try and leave as soon as I can, but my shift’s twelve hours.” He was standing, walking towards the attached bathroom before he turned back. “Feel free to go back to sleep.”
It seemed like only moments later when his eyes snapped open to stare at the empty space on the bed next to him, a slightly crumpled piece of paper tented up on the pillow with his name written on it. He snatched it up.
Sam, you were sleeping when I got out of the shower (someday, we’ll have to try one of those together, maybe when the rest of your stitches come out!). There should be plenty of food in the refrigerator, feel free to use my TV or watch any of my movies. You can find my internet password by the router. I’ll try and be home as quick as I can. - Gabriel
PS The sex last night before we went to sleep was great kiddo. Would love to try it again soon.
PPS If you ever want to tell me about Brady, I’ll be there in a flash.
Sam sat up slowly, staring at the room with more interest than he could have mustered last night. He had been distracted and then completely exhausted. His body ached in all the right places. If you didn’t count the lingering pain and sharp twinges in his side from his healing ribs. He hobbled around the apartment on his crutches, almost grateful that his injuries slowed him down. It allowed him to really inspect the intricate details of Gabriel’s apartment. Like his book collection (Sparser than Sam would ever have let a collection get), his DVD collection (far larger than Sam had ever had) and his kitchen (actually rather impressive). The TV was drool-worthy and Sam had spotted a few gaming consoles as well. He eased himself onto the couch and looked around, wondering what the hell to do with himself. It was strange, knowing he was in San Diego but not in his own apartment.
Gabriel had gone above and beyond what had been expected of him by bringing him into his own home. They’d been a weekend fling and while Sam had wanted more, he hadn’t wanted to expect more, especially with his occupation.. It was…humiliating that he couldn’t go to his own apartment. But he could barely get around on his crutches, stairs were a no go as yet and his brother, despite protests, would have to return to service soon. Honestly, he wasn’t entirely sure how Dean’d gotten the time in the first place and he wasn’t going to ask. And well, sex was another plus. There was something between them; the sex was better than he’d ever experienced. Even with a broken leg and cracked ribs (which were healing well, thank you very much).
He spent most of the day making his way through a TV series Gabriel had tucked away behind some of his extensive movie collection. It was a cop procedural, violent but not graphic. He hadn’t expected to like it all that much, but apparently he did because the next thing he knew, he could hear the scrape of the key in the lock and Gabriel entering his apartment, talking to someone, a woman. Sam struggled to push himself up on his crutches as the footsteps rounded the corner into the living space. Gabriel and a woman with smooth lightly tanned skin and dark hair that was currently held back in a bun.
“Well, look at you. Gabriel said you were a looker and he wasn’t kidding.” The woman laughed, a full throaty laugh that startled Sam into smiling back.
“Sammy... I couldn’t keep her away. Pam, this is Sam, Sam, Pam. I’ll let you two have fun with your names; I’m too pooped to say the right thing.”
“Pets.” Sam pulled a face. Days alone allowed him to forget that he couldn’t talk, not really. He had some words, but his comprehensible vocabulary was that of about a one year old. Pathetic.
“That’s right Sam, I’m Pam. Now, I was telling Gabe-boy here all about how you ought to learn sign language and teach Gabriel.”
Sam hmmed, startled by how up front the woman was. “Wow, Gabriel, strong and silent, how’d you get so lucky?” the woman asked as she shrugged off her purse and hung it absently on the coat rack, tank top riding high, baring a strip of tan toned skin and a hint of a tattoo as she turned away from him. His eyes widened and flew back to Gabriel.
“Ok, you told him Pammy. Now you promised me a sweet treat!” Gabriel whined.
“And I shall deliver. Gabriel, may I present you the sweetest treat of all, the man currently standing in front of you.” Sam hadn’t known he could blush more.
“Paaaaaaaam,” Gabriel groaned. “You know what I interpreted that as. Why are you being awful?” He glanced over at Sam, a half grin on his face that couldn’t help but make Sam brighten up a little. “No offense Samsquatch, you are delicious and I plan on eating you up later.” A waggle of eyebrows had Sam going right back to scarlet. He hadn’t blushed this much since Susie Taylor had asked him out in the fourth grade.
****
Time passed quickly, hours into days. Sam had really taken to sign language, even as Gabriel hadn’t, so the language gap was still there. It was getting better; the speech therapist came to Gabriel’s apartment to help him. Sam was completely convinced that Gabriel had either called in some huge favor or threatened her in some drastic way, despite both of them denying it and saying this was standard treatment, She’d told him on her second visit that he was improving rapidly, far beyond expectations. He was now consistently getting the words a two year old would say out and he was working on multiple syllable words sometimes. Gabriel usually spent his long days at the hospital and while Sam was lonely, he couldn’t blame him for his job. It was demanding and tiring. Dean came over sometimes, took him for rides in the Impala. Neither of them mentioned it except when Gabriel had forced it into the open at the hospital and Dean had slunk into his room later to tell him the exact date he was expected back, but Dean would be taking off back for parts unknown in less than a week. Something in Sam broke, wanting desperately to be back in Iraq where he was needed, useful. He didn’t begrudge Dean his service, but sometimes the jealousy that wracked his body made it difficult to breathe.
Pam sometimes showed up after work with Gabriel, but she usually only practiced signing with Sam (crude teasing remarks that were actually funny if he didn’t take offense).She stayed for a little while, had a beer with them and then took off. Castiel had even shown up once or twice, causing Sam to stand there awkwardly as Castiel studied him, no sense that his staring was off-putting. Dean had been there both times and both times seemed to have sensed Sam’s discomfort and had dragged the man off for ‘drinks to loosen you up’ or some shit, after an hour.
Castiel went willingly enough, even as Gabriel remarked that his brother-in-arms never drank. Sam sat up, realizing he’d heard Gabriel’s car pull into the assigned parking space out front. The car had a distinct… rattle that Sam had been trying to get Gabriel to get fixed, but, well, it hadn’t happened yet; then again, they’d only been sharing the space for a week and a half now. He had plenty of time to work on the man. He’d expected Gabe to have appeared already but the door hadn’t opened yet. He pulled himself up with his crutches and hobbled over to the front door, unlocking and pulling it open to see Gabriel sitting in his car, staring at nothing, just sitting there. He’d never seen the man sit so still. Carefully leaving the door open, he made his way over to the car and lowered himself into the passenger seat. The man hadn’t seen him coming, not until he’d opened the door.
“Sam, what’re you doing out here?” Gabriel frowned. “No pulled stitches or anything? I told you, you can text or call me anytime if something goes wrong.”
“No - no thh thing. Seersucker.” Sam frowned, almost amused by the word that had just come out of his mouth. “Ssss. Eyes.” He finally settled on, gesturing to his own and then pointed at Gabriel. “Car.”
“Oh. Yeah. That.” Gabriel laughed, almost fooling Sam with his light tone. Something was wrong though, Gabriel’s eyes weren’t laughing. Gabriel’s eyes always laughed when he found something funny. “Just plotting how best to surprise you. Your expressions are the best. See?!” Gabriel tapped Sam’s nose. “Exactly like that.”
Sam shook his head. “No.” He dug into his pocket, pulling the tiny notebook he kept on him and the pen with it. You were sitting out here in your car for five minutes. What’s up?
“Nothing, I already told you! Can’t you just leave it alone for fuck’s sake?” Gabriel snapped, leaving the car in a flurry and slamming the door behind him. Sam blinked. That had been rather unexpected. He knew Gabriel had a sharp tongue, but he’d never had it used against him. He followed slowly, letting the silence drape heavily over the two of them for the evening. That evening was the first one Sam chose to sleep in the guest room, letting Gabriel dictate the terms. Even if it wasn’t like any fight he’d ever been in before: maybe only because of his lack of ability to communicate, but now it was still a fight and he’d pissed Gabriel off.
He woke in the middle of the night to Gabriel crawling into the bed with him, still quiet, but kissing him frantically and Sam let him, didn’t question it, just let the small blonde man overwhelm him. It was the first time he bottomed for Gabriel, but Sam knew he wanted it again, wanted that release of giving up and trusting, trusting that he was cared for, wanted.
***
Things went back to what had become normal after that, Gabriel helping him run his errands, Castiel dropping by occasionally, Pam teasing him. Dean had left and Gabriel had driven him home in the Impala, with many stern threats on Dean’s part about what would happen to Gabriel if he so much as scratched his baby. When Gabriel found out that Dean and Sam’s dad had basically raised them to go into the military and they’d never really gotten to do the typical childhood things: go to random movies at three in the afternoon, spend all day lazing about, go to the zoo, Gabriel started doing that for him.
Sam received his first disability check from the Marines about a month into his time with Gabriel. It was getting close to the time where he was going to get a walking boot. He hadn’t gotten much beyond small words in his therapy, but his therapist continued to say that he was improving very quickly.
After Sam had, to put it lightly, flipped out because it hadn’t seemed like it, the therapist had explained just how slowly most people improved from these kinds of injuries. That had been a reality check, if a frustrating one. Gabriel had sat with him after, held his hand as Sam raged, incoherent words and thoughts spilling from his lips until Sam started sobbing, wild in his pain, his grief, his trauma at seeing his best friend die, his fear now that Dean would die because Sam wasn’t there to take care of him. Gabriel had smoothed Sam’s hair, brushed the tears away and let Sam work his way through it.
Gabriel had walked into the apartment with the mail in hand. Sam had been experiencing some rather severe pain, which he’d been warned about and had been trying to move as little as possible. He held one particular piece of mail addressed to Sam, a funny expression on his face. Sam had taken it and opened it, casually tucking the check into his wallet so he could deposit it when he and Gabriel went out to lunch on Gabriel’s next day off.
“That’s it?” Gabriel asked suddenly. “What, they just gave you a check and you’re just hiding it away in your wallet?”
“Uhmm, yes?” Sam said, frowning. “Port balm?”
“No, it’s not a problem. Just thought it deserved more care than tossing it into your wallet. I mean, the government’s compensating you because you got hurt.” Gabriel crossed to the kitchen, banging around in the drawers before pulling out a candy bar, unwrapping it and biting down. Sam stared, bewildered. There was clearly something more to this story.
“G’brel” He finally said, pulling himself up to lean on his crutches right in Gabriel’s space. “Tall me.”
“I…” Gabriel’s hands clenched and loosened forcibly. “No.” Gabriel gathered himself. “You need to leave it alone. Stop asking me to talk. I can’t. ” Which was all Gabriel said on the subject. He tried asking Castiel, who only told him that Gabriel would tell him if he wanted Sam to know. Pamela just changed the subject, a wary look coming into her eyes. Sam decided to let it lie for the time being.
***
It’s when he gets his walking boot that things change. Pam comes over one night and Sam’s practicing signing with her, she says she learned back when she was in college to talk to a cute boy, they’d lasted a couple of years, which is why she was still pretty fluent. He was proud of himself for a moment when he makes her laugh using a sign language joke until Gabriel butts in, wanting to know what the joke was at which point he sets his jaw. The man had barely tried to learn, so he turns away and watches the tv, letting Pamela attempt to translate it second hand.
Later, when they’re in bed together, breathing hard, heart rates pounding, sweating, Gabriel lets loose on him. “What the hell was that about, Sam?” If Sam’s picked up one thing, it’s that Gabriel never uses his real name unless he’s annoyed or tetchy in some way.
Sam signs sex.
“Exactly!” Gabriel says, sliding out of the bed to stand looking down at him. Sam crooks himself up on his elbow, frowning. “You can’t just sign stuff at me when you know I don’t understand. You have to communicate.”
Sam rolls his eyes. “Try.” He finally says quietly.
“I did! Sammy, you have to know, I did.” Gabriel stands there with a pleading look on his face and Sam melts a little.
He grabs the pad and pen from the bedside table. I’m sorry. Signing is so much easier than talking. I wish you could. Sam frowns. He really doesn’t want to fight with Gabriel right now. Gabriel kisses him on the forehead and slides back into bed, cuddling in. They don’t say a word.
Five days later, when Castiel is there, Sam tries another joke. It doesn’t go over nearly as smoothly, mostly because, Sam thinks, Castiel deliberately ignores humor. Gabriel still wants to know and Sam rolls his eyes. Gabriel has to know everything. They don’t talk for a couple hours and when Gabriel confronts him, Sam blows up a little.
If you want me to tell you everything, why don’t you try telling me what keeps you frozen in your car or over the stove as if you were in a different world? You’re keeping things from me and you want me to tell you everything? Gabriel slams out of the room at that without a word. Sam doesn’t see him for a day and when he texts Castiel, he barely gets a response beyond that Gabriel is physically alive and well.
He texts Gabriel twenty four hours into his absence. It’s odd, that he’s the one who was walked out on when this isn’t even his apartment. Maybe that’s the crux of the problem, that Gabriel doesn’t want him here anymore. He starts packing his bags.
Gabriel shows up two hours later, hair dripping from the rain and when he sees Sam’s bags packed, his lips tighten and Sam’s heart clenches. He thinks he’s falling in love with the man, but there’s something… broken between them and he can’t live here and fix it.
He runs a hand along Gabriel’s face, who turns into his hand, brushing his lips against Sam’s palm. “We’re so broken.”
Sam nods. He gives Gabe his already written note. I want us to work and I think this is making us fall apart. We need to have a foundation before we build the house. Gabriel reads it, folds it, unfolds it, reads it again. He looks up at Sam and leans up, kisses him deeply.
“I understand. There are things, things I have to tell you, but I can’t, not right now. I need help.” Gabriel admits and Sam gets it, because he does too. He’s broken from what happened in the Marines, broken from how he was raised. He scrawls down on his notepad. Dinner at my apartment, tomorrow? He takes a breath and speaks. “Please. G’brel.”
“How can I say no?” Gabriel says spreading his hands before taking Sam’s and leaning up to kiss him. Sam falls into the kiss, falls into this man who caught him with one chance look in a bar.
“So, I swear, the dick didn’t even know what hit him, Sammy.” Gabriel grinned down at the tall man who was half propped up on pillows. The swelling on his face had lessened; there was still a dull yellowing around his left eye and some darker blue along his right jaw line. There was a gauze bandage circling his head, keeping the newly sewn up wound from his surgery in the field, clean.
“No...” Sam paused and the pause grew, Sam’s brow furrowing. Gabriel reached over and grabbed the man’s good hand, Sam had shouted earlier, words that didn’t make sense. Gabriel’s heart had stayed in his throat for a couple years.
“That’s right Sammy boy. No underwear or pants to be found, in the middle of town.” Gabriel grinned. “Deserved it too, after what he did to Anna.”
“Annaster?”
“You remembered, I’m so proud.” Gabriel grinned. Sam lifted his hand and thumped it down on Gabriel’s. Gabriel figured that was the man’s current equivalent of punching him in the shoulder.
“Get offa me, you demon woman!” A loud voice suddenly echoed into their room. Gabriel made to stand up when suddenly Sam was clutching his hand. He glanced back, noticing Sam’s wide eyes. Ok. Clearly someone the man knew. “I don’t give a shit about visiting hours. You will let me in to see my brother or so help me...” Gabriel rolled his eyes.
Pulling his hand away from Sam, he marched over to the door to take in the sight of Elspeth holding a young, rather handsome man to a wall with a hand. Elspeth was, well, someone Gabriel had learned not to cross very quickly in the last two and a half days since Sam had been admitted. She was big, she was strong and she didn’t take crap from anyone.
“Well aren’t you just adorable, going all alpha male on the woman who’s helping your brother get better” Elspeth shot him a glare and Gabriel mock raised his hands in surrender. Elspeth hated any intimation that she liked the patients she worked with. She was kind of like a suit of armor surrounding marshmallow fluff, Gabriel mused.
“Shut the fuck up. I’m here to see my brother and none of you are gonna stop me.”
“Hey, hey, hey, language buddy. I’m just here to help. I’ll be glad to go sit with Sam again and ignore you when you’re tossed out of the hospital.” The taller man had greenish eyes, Gabriel noted, and freckles.
“You gonna help me or just stand there?”
“You will respect your elders young man,” Elspeth interrupted. She always was one for nonsequiters. He rolled his eyes.
“Elspeth, I will look after Dean here until he leaves. You trust me right?”
“Why would I trust you?” She spat. “He’s my patient and don’t think you’re allowed in...”
“We both know exactly why I’m allowed to hang around.” Gabriel narrowed his eyes at her and her mouth closed with a snap. “And I’ll watch him. And Sam. Don’t make me find Castiel.” Elspeth stared at him for a moment before stepping back slightly, lip curled in a snarl.
“See? I told you. Nothing can keep me from my brother.” Dean sidled out of Elspeth’s way and around Gabriel before darting into Sam’s room.
Gabriel followed. There were things Castiel had not yet told Dean and well, it would be funny to watch Dean figure it out. For a moment.
“Sam!” Dean was across the room in a second, standing over his brother, hands fisting awkwardly. Gabriel leaned against the door jam. It wasn’t his place to interrupt but the man was... volatile. It came with being a ranger. Damp everything down, don’t express emotions, those are for girls and there are no girls in the Rangers, right?
How Sam had been in the Marines, without being as emotionally constipated as this idiot in front of him, was a mystery. He had actually been rather jealous of how self possessed Sam was about how he was feeling.
“De’n” Gabriel stepped to the side, catching a glimpse of Sam’s face, bitch face five. And no, it wasn’t weird to count. The man had a lot of bitch faces. It was part of what had kept Gabriel in Sam’s bed three months ago. Well. Sort of. Mostly, it was the hot sex.
“You’re gonna be outta that bed in no time, Sammy. Hardly a scratch on you!” Punch to the shoulder.
That was bitch face thirteen. A new one. Gabriel hid a smile. “Dean, pur...” Sam’s hand clenched and Gabriel found himself standing on the opposite side of the bed from Dean.
“Relax Samsquatch. I can interpret! You’ll owe me but I think you know exactly how to repay me.” He leered and Sam had the grace to blush and roll his eyes.
“Ugh gross man. Isn’t there some law against perving on your patient?”
“Oh Sammy boy’s not my patient. Just my lover,” Gabriel purred with a grin, sitting on the edge of the bed and laying a hand on Sam’s thigh (which he probably couldn’t feel all that well, with all the drugs going through his system).
“Ahhh, don’t tell me that shit!” Dean reared back from him disgusted and Gabriel frowned, looking down at Sam.
“I didn’t just out you, did I? Samsquatch?” A slight shake of his head. “Good! So it’s just your brother being a bag of dicks. No offense,” he said, without looking at Dean.
“What the hell, Sam?”
“And you’re the only reason I’m still clothed.” Gabriel waggled his eyebrows.
Dean stared, fish eyed for a moment before speaking again. “Dude. You’re in a hospital.” Dean turned towards his brother, face alight in righteous fury, “Sammy, you can’t be letting this man talk about you like that.”
Sam wrinkled his brow. Gabriel knew what was happening and wished they’d moved along in healing long enough for the speech therapist to have started working with Sam. But they hadn’t, it had only been a week since this had all started, two and a half days since he’d arrived at this hospital. He squeezed the man’s thigh and caught Sam’s panicked eyes. Take your time, he mouthed and there was another tiny nod. “Ssss,” Sam’s hands fisted up, “Ss-ookay.”
“What’s... Sammy?” Dean was suddenly right up against the bed, leaning over it to be honest. Sam’s eyes closed and his lips thinned, swallowing convulsively. “What the hell, man? Why aren’t you talking right?”
“Fuck, Dean. Get out! You’re upsetting him.” Gabriel stood, moving to push him out of the room and knock some sense into him.
“No - G’brel”, steel in that voice and Gabriel froze, remembering that tone from when he’d first spent time with Sam. He was all cheer and give until you hit the steel core and then the man was immovable.
“Yeah. Gabriel,” taunted Dean and Gabriel rolled his eyes.
“Fffff...” Sam broke off and raising his free hand, flipped his brother off. That shut him up pretty quickly.
“What’s going on?” Dean finally asked, not looking at anyone in particular.
Gabriel sighed. “What did Castiel tell you?”
“Who the fuck is Castiel?”
“That would be me. I’m Sam’s doctor, Doctor Novak.” Castiel stood at the end of the bed. Sam’s brother and Gabriel snorted.
“Jesus Christ!” Dean jumped, spinning fast to look at the man.
“I’m not Jesus Christ.”
“What? No, of course you aren’t! What...” Dean went from startled to flustered in the space of a second and Gabriel snorted. He’d long since gotten used to Castiel’s inherent obliviousness to common turns of phrase, pop culture references and, if he was being honest, pretty much everything besides his work and the few people who cared for him.
“Don’t bother. My brother’s never gotten used to colloquial language. Always talks like he’s got a stick up his ass. Don’t you Castiel?” Gabriel smiled affectionately, moving to ruffle the man’s hair.
Castiel shifted to the side, avoiding his hand. “Gabriel, you are being deliberately rude.”
“Comes like breathing. You know that. Now, whatcha gonna tell us about Sammy-boy?”
“Wait... You two are brothers?” Dean shifted his gaze between the two and Gabriel sighed.
“Can’t you see the family resemblance?”
“Not really,” Dean said.
“Probably because we have different mothers.” Gabriel said offhandedly.
“We don’t share genetic composition unless you count the infinitesimal link that all humans share,” Castiel said.
“Then, you know what? I give up. You two are the strangest humans on the planet and I don’t know why I have to put up with this shit. Sam’s got to have a real doctor around,” Dean glanced back at the door and Gabriel could see the wheels turning. Slowly.
“You’re going to put up with it because Castiel’s the best doctor around. And you haven’t been putting up with anything. You’ve been kicking and screaming like a three year old since you stepped foot in this hospital.” Gabriel frowned at the man.
“Sam’s my little brother. He’s all I got. He deserves the best.” There was the desperation again and Gabriel softened. Even if he was an ass and they didn’t get along, Dean loved his brother and Sam needed someone like that. Speaking of, he sat on the edge of the bed and leaned against the man, sending him a small smile.
“Castiel, I thought you explained to Dean what happened.” Gabriel started.
“I tried, but Dean Winchester hung up as soon as I said Sam and what hospital. He would not let me speak.”
“Jock er.” Sam rasped from the bed. Gabriel turned his head back to Sam just in time to see him rolling his eyes affectionately.
“Bitch,” Dean says with a grin, his worry seemingly vanished into thin air, unless you looked too closely at his eyes, Gabriel realized.
“Sam, I...um, I’ve got a shift in a couple hours. I’ll come back after, yeah?” He says, leaning over and brushing his lips against the man’s. He loved how Sam responded even while lying beat up in a hospital bed. “Mmm, miss me, won’t you?”
“Yes,” Sam even smiled at him and Gabriel felt his heart fill. He didn’t know why, he barely knew the man but here he was at his bedside during one of the hardest points in his life.
****
The noise books made when thrown into a wall was totally unsatisfying, Sam decided sitting in his wheelchair. Dean was there, his doctor who had insisted Sam address him as Castiel, and his newly met speech therapist, Jo. Jo had spent the last thirty minutes trying to get him to say Dean in all manner of different ways and Dean being Dean and uncomfortable with all the unintentional attention being directed his way had tried to turn it into a joke.
“Mr Winchester...” Sam turned to look back at Jo who was pursing her lips,lost in thought as she stared at him and then at Castiel, who was standing just beside Dean. He was staring at Dean. Dean was staring back. Right. Of course. The first time Dean ever starts exhibiting interest in someone of the same sex would be when Sam was prostrate in a hospital bed, unable to even point it out. Figured. “Dean, Samuel’s”
“He goes by Sam.” Dean scowled and Sam’s lips twitched.
“Do I have to explain Sam’s injuries to you again?” The man’s face was implacable, head slightly tilted to the side as he studied Sam’s brother.
“I think I understand what’s going on here Doc. I ain’t an idiot just because I’m in the military. It’s Sam who’s the jarhead.” Dean crossed his arms over his chest and lifted his chin, filling the room with testosterone.
When had Sam become a pawn in his own damn life. Oh. Yes. When his best friend died and he’d lost his ability to say anything that actually made sense. Damn his inability to speak. He took the only thing left to throw near him, his pillow, and chucked it as hard as he could at his brother. Too bad it wouldn’t give his brother a concussion and brain damage. He didn’t know how to keep his mouth shut.
“Fuck you, bitch.” Dean crossed his arms.
“Dean, your brother is severely injured, you ought to be a little more patient. IF this is too frustrating for you, you can go take a walk. Jo Harvelle and I can handle Sam...” Sam studied Castiel. There was something about him that Sam could see dug into his brother, like a missing piece. It reminded him of last week when the two had first met and Gabriel had hightailed it out of there…
“You know what. Just tell me. Obviously something’s wrong.” Castiel was standing all of six inches from his Dean, which normally would be hilarious, but Sam could hardly breathe. Why hadn’t Cas told him already, why was he finding out now? He was acting like a giant girl, as Dean would say.
“Your brother’s head trauma has caused some language difficulties.” Dean’s fist was at his mouth and Sam leaned over to punch him in the leg.
“Ow! Sammy,” Dean glared down at him and Sam smiled. “So. What’s that mean?”
“You heard your brother earlier.” Castiel paused, frowning. He turned to Sam. “Forgive me, Samuel, I had wished to tell you on your own, but there was an emergency and then your brother arrived earlier than anticipated. I have not come to a firm diagnosis, as what I believe you have requires a differential diagnosis and I need to call in a colleague who is a speech-pathologist.”
“A what?” Dean butted in and Sam hit him in the leg again. “Ow! Fine!”
“I believe the head trauma you suffered caused some damage to the speech centers in your brain, causing the trouble you’ve been experiencing when communicating. Since you can form words and appear to understand what people have said… I do not think it is the most severe version you could… experience.” Sam frowned, squinting up at the man. It was becoming rather harder to focus on him. And well, he would quite like to fall asleep at the moment.
“Tt-tii-tii red” Sam sad, waving a hand generally in his brother’s direction, who grabbed it, for once silent as stone.
“If you have questions, you may ask later, any of the nurses can find me.” Sam hummed a little and let his head sink deeper into the rather flat uncomfortable pillow.
****
Gabriel looked around his apartment, analyzing it for the first time with an eye to someone who had significant mobility issues. The little coffee table would have to be moved, as it blocked most of the living room. The chairs around the kitchen table would have to be reorganized and kept neatly as opposed to in their usual haphazard positions and he would have to speak to the management about making sure the elevator did not break down.
And the spare room would have to be cleaned and organized. After all, he wasn’t sure if Sam wanted to sleep in the same bed. If you’d asked him two weeks ago if he would ever consider sharing his apartment, well, his answer would have been shock and dismay. Yet here he was. He shook his head as he shoved the dining table over and picked up the chair he had unintentionally knocked over.
Sam needed him. Him specifically; it had been a long time since anyone had. Of course, the big moose probably wouldn’t like moving in with him and losing his independence, but since his diagnosis of Apraxia of Speech and the fact that he had a broken leg and cracked ribs, well his mobility would be severely hampered. Was severely hampered. They’d gotten him walking yesterday, he and Dean there to watch and, well, Sam had been exhausted and all he’d been doing was walking to the bathroom so he could have a shower.
It was only a matter of days before he would be allowed to come home... Here, Gabriel’s home. Sam’s was, well, it was what it was. But it was a walk up. Sam wouldn’t be able to even have a semblance of independent movement in and out of the apartment if he went back there. That’s what he told himself anyways.
****
Sam scratched unconsciously at his cast, hands unable to stay still. He’d been here in San Diego, in this hospital for a good three weeks, his brother showing up three days in, and barely leaving his side until now. Gabriel had been around as often as his job would let him and Sam was grateful to see him, even if it did mean that Dean sniped low ball comments at Gabriel for unknown reasons, which kept him from fighting with Sam. Sam didn’t have the energy for it and he hadn’t even realized Gabriel had somehow defused or deflected the brothers’ bickering until he wasn’t there this evening. It had come as a shock to realize it when he’d suddenly started bickering over some stupid thing Dean had done. He loved his brother, he really did, but sometimes he was a dense blockhead. He was far quicker to Sometimes, Sam wondered if Dean threw himself into the most dangerous situations he could because he was afraid to face himself.
“Samuel Winchester.” The low growl of his doctor’s voice surprised him out of his melancholy for a moment. He blinked.
“Sam.” He sounded out his own name carefully. That was progress. This voice therapist really did know what she was talking about. “Sam.” He repeated, quieter this time.
“Sam.” The man corrected, stone faced. “I’m about to go off my shift, but Gabriel wanted me to ask if there was anything you needed, that if you were in need of anything at all, that you should tell me and I should fulfill your need.” Castiel was staring at him as if he hadn’t just practically propositioned his brother’s... well; Sam didn’t know what he and Gabriel were. They’d only spent one amazing weekend together. Now here he was a cripple who couldn’t talk and Sam was pretty sure Gabe had put the doctor up to this when Sam couldn’t tell him off.
“Dean.” Sam paused, unconsciously scrunching up his face in concentration as his doctor’s blue eyes bored into him, patiently waiting whatever it was he was going to say. “F-fight”. He gestured towards himself. “Bar.” Sam huffed, frustrated at his inability to communicate what needed to be said.
“Your brother, Dean Winchester, you fought with him. He has…retreated to a…bar?” Castiel was staring at him and Sam sighed. He didn’t know how or why, but Castiel - Doctor Novak - always seemed to know what he was saying. Dean had so much trouble, it was probably why they’d been fighting anyways and Gabe was better after a couple days of listening to him, but sometimes he didn’t listen.
Sam nodded. “You.” He stared at his doctor, willed the man to understand what he meant. “You.” He repeated himself.
Doctor Novak looked at him for a long while and Sam searched for a way to make his voice communicate what he meant. “You youu... B-Dean. Ba-Bar.” He really did need to do those exercises his speech therapist had given him. Even if they sounded ridiculous.
“You wish for me to follow Dean to the bar. How am I to know which bar? I imagine there are several around here.” The man wasn’t even putting up a fuss about using his (probably minimal) down time to search out the brother of one of his very many patients. Whose brother hadn’t even been particularly kind or even polite to the man.
“S’D-Dean. Chair. Heap. Cleat.” Sam played with the sounds a little as he stumbled to get his message across.
“That doesn’t clarify anything for me.”
Sam huffed, feeling laughter bubble up in him, threatening to pour out of him. “G’br’el. Call. Calll. A Ah- Ask. Assssk. Kuh.”
Castiel nodded once, pulling out his phone as he swept out of the room again, leaving Sam to twiddle his thumbs and stare at the ceiling.
*****
“So, what’s lover boy up to today?” Pamela flopped down next to him at the nurses’ station, bright green scrubs and neon orange keds glaring at him.
“I think he’s practicing G’s.”
“He’s gonna be rich, then, ain’t he?” She chortled a little.
Oh, ha, ha.” Gabriel signed off on some form or other and turned to face his best work friend. “He’s actually getting quite a bit better. They’re letting him out day after tomorrow…” He trailed off as he realized that he was actually going to have to convince him that Gabriel’s apartment was a far better choice. It wasn’t like Sam could maneuver stairs yet, not to mention the whole language thing.
“You still haven’t asked? What the hell were you thinking, Gabriel?” Pam pulled a face at him and he stuck his tongue out. “You have to ask tonight, Gabriel.”
He glared at her. She stared right back. A moment’s pause, then “Fine! Fine. You win. I’ll do it.”
“Great! Then you should probably know your shift ended five minutes ago.”
“I... what?” Gabriel glanced at the computer’s clock. So it had. 7:05pm. Huh.
“Go get ‘em boy.”
“I’m not a boy, Pammy.” Gabriel said as he gathered his phone and wallet. He’d change in the dressing room.
“And I’m not a three year old. But that doesn’t stop you from calling me one.” Gabriel rolled his eyes. She called him a three year old far more often. “Goodbye, Pam.”
“Make sure you promise him lots and lots of sex!” She called after him in a loud whisper. He pretended not to hear her. He’d probably follow her advice, but he didn’t want her to know that.
A half hour later, he stood outside of Sam’s hospital room, listening to the quiet rumble of Dean’s voice and the stilted replies from Sam. He was getting better; he was actually able to communicate what he wanted to communicate. Sometimes. And of course, you had to have Castiel the magic translator around to get more than the gist of what he was saying sometimes, but Jo said it was a shock he’d gotten to this level already.
He stepped in. “Sammy moose, I’ve been looking forward to this moment all day, if you know what I mean,” he winked at Dean who wrinkled his face in disgust, “and I think you do.” He leaned down, kissing Sam briefly.
“Hel-lo,” Sam said, a slight smile on his face. Gabriel’s soul lifted, and he found himself grinning back.
“Hi.”
Sam grabbed his hand and he squeezed it, staring into the man’s brown eyes until the pesky older brother coughed loudly, obviously. Gabriel rolled his eyes. “And how was your day, Deano?”
“Oh, it was fantastic.” Dean sat slumped in his chair.
“That hangover treating you well?”
“Fuck you too.”
“Perfectly, I see then,” Gabriel said with a grin, remembering when Castiel had called him last night, asking all sorts of odd questions about shifty bars. It hadn’t made any sense until his brother had admitted that Sam had asked him to go after Dean. Then it had just been plain hilarious.
“Cas - Day. Leaf?”
“Right! I almost forgot.” Gabriel said. Sam glared. “Ok, not really.”
“So? Cas said when Sammy here gets to leave? He let it slip to you?”
“End of day Thursday.” Gabriel said, smiling at Dean who, for once, returned it with a grin of his own.
“T-t days tuuhh days.”
“That’s right, Sammy boy, two days.” Gabriel inhaled. “Listen, you’re still going to be pretty immobile once they let you get outta here. I was thinking… your apartment, there’s no elevator and Dean here can’t be babysitting you all the time, right? So, why don’t you stay with me for a couple weeks, ‘til that leg of yours heals enough to handle stairs?” Gabriel studied his hands.
“I can so!” Dean protested, standing in a fluid motion.
“And what about when you have to go back to the Rangers? I’m shocked they’ve let you stay this long.” Gabriel barely spared a glance for Dean, instead focusing his energy on reading Sam’s expressions.
Which were... about as he expected. Surprised. Annoyed. Bitch face twenty quickly followed by four. “Nn Nno.”
“Why not, Sammyboy?”
“T-t-toooo much.” Gabriel leaned over and grabbed the whiteboard Castiel had been brilliant enough to leave around yesterday, handing it silently to the man who took it, grimacing. Gabriel turned his attention back to Dean for the moment as Sam wrote out what he wanted to say.
“So when did the Rangers give you ’til?” Gabriel asked, smirk solidly in place.
“Fuck you.”
“I prefer your brother. And that soon, then, huh?” Gabriel rolled his shoulders, shrugging off the tension.
“What do you know about family leave?” Dean said, sarcastically.
“Way more than I ever cared to learn.” Gabriel took the white board and looked down. You’ve done too much already, I can’t ask you to give up your space too. I’ll manage.
“Sammy boy, you’re fun to be around. I’m a nurse! My apartment’s big enough for the both of us, there’s even a second bedroom. Well, it’s a study right now, but it’s meant to be a second bedroom. I’ve dusted off the futon and everything! Come on, say yes.”
Sam frowned again, -bitch-face 13, before scribbling on the dry erase board. I’d be a burden. We’ve barely dated. I don’t know why you’re doing this all for me. Gabriel laid a hand down, caressing Sam’s upper arm. He knew this conversation was coming, but he’d been avoiding it.
“Ugh. You know what, you saps figure your shit out. I’ll be back later when my brother stops being a girl. See ya Sammy.” Dean was out of the room in about one second flat. Gabriel quirked an eyebrow at Sam who snorted, showed his whiteboard again: Can’t handle emotions. They’re not ‘manly’.
“I always knew you were the right pick between you and your brother.” Gabriel hummed slightly to himself as the scratching of the marker on the whiteboard filled the room.
You didn’t meet my brother until last week. And you haven’t answered my question!.
“You’re a persistent ass, you know that?” Gabriel asked. “Well, your ass is quite cute…” He trailed off for a moment, trying to find the words. “The way you treated me, it reminded me how good people can be just when I’d given up on anyone beyond my closest friends and family. Now, now, don’t go looking so shocked, I can pretend to like people just as much as anyone, thank you. You were good for me.” He wriggled his eyebrows. Sam snorted. “And someone else did something for me that I need to repay and... Well, I can’t repay it to him, so I have to pay it forward.” Gabriel stared at the ceiling for a moment, letting the wave of emotions crash through him, willing his eyes to stay dry.
There was a tugging on his arm. But why ME?
Gabriel laughed, letting his emotions go, feeling the laughter ripple through his abdomen and shake his shoulders. At Sam’s touch on his knee, he met the man’s eyes and felt his world go still and quiet. It was funny, how that switch could flip with hardly any notice. “Because you noticed me.” Bitch-face number six. He really would have to trademark these.
“Ww what?”
“Aw, Sammy, don’t make me say it!” He stuck his bottom lip out, exaggerating a pout. Sam stared at him. He rolled his eyes. “Look, I’m not telling you everything about my life because even if you’re moving in with me for a bit, you don’t get that yet,” he shook a finger in Sam’s face, “but let’s just say I was wallowing in the memories of an incredibly awful part of my life so I went to that bar, the bar tender turned me down and then you walked in and as soon as you did, everything started… picking up.”
Stop with the terrible innuendos!
“Never. And just to be clear, I’m paying forward a gift that was given to me. And it’s a temporary solution until you’re mobile enough and coherent enough to function on your own. So don’t go getting ideas about staying forever... Though if you ask nicely…” Gabriel waggled his eyebrows. A snort. He did so love how expressive Sam could be.
“Basically, you’re not going to be much of a burden on me and your brother’s gonna have to go back to wherever it was he was and we can’t have you immobile. And you’ll be helping me pay it forward in a spectacular fashion. Just say yes already, Sammy.”
A grimace and then the scratching of the pen. Fine. As long as you never call me Sammy again.
“Deal. As long as I can use any other nickname. Because I wouldn’t be myself if I didn’t have creative awesome nicknames.”
“Fffine.”
“Then it’s settled.”
So long as we both know this is temporary and that I am not trying to mooch off of you.
“Duh.” Gabriel grinned and Sam smiled back at him.
******
Gabriel collapsed down onto his couch, moved to put up his feet on this coffee table before realizing he’d moved it far enough away so Sam could maneuver on his crutches. He let his legs fall to the floor instead. The clink of the crutches came closer and Sam carefully lowered himself onto the couch as well. Dean was standing by the edge of the kitchen, beer (That Gabriel had provided, thank you very much) in hand talking to Castiel. Well. Dean was rambling and Castiel was standing, as he was wont, far too close. Gabriel had tried, but Castiel had never learned. Yet Dean didn’t seem too bothered. Speaking of.
“Hey Dean, you never said... What’d you think when Castiel here showed up at whatever hole in the wall you found the other day?” Gabriel took a swig of his own beer.
The reaction was even better than anticipated. Dean choked mid swallow on the beer, nearly spraying it all over Castiel. The man had shown up the next day with a black eye and seemed to be favoring his left shoulder. Gabriel had opened his mouth to ask then, only to be stopped by a severe poke in his side from Sam.
“Dean was drunk when I arrived at the correct bar. He was engaging in what I believe is typically called a ‘bar brawl.’ I pulled him out of it and we left.” Castiel spoke up. Gabe’s eyebrows rose. Castiel avoided conflict usually, finding it a troubling reminder of their shared past. That he would spend more than a second watching a fight was remarkable.
“Dean…” Sam said, frowning.
“Yeah Sammy, I know.” Dean crossed his arms. “Can’t do anything now it’s over, right?”
Gabriel shifted uncomfortably.
“So! How about we watch a movie? I’ve got about a million.” Gabriel grinned into the tense silence that had fallen over them. There was a chorus of yes’s and he sighed a breath of relief.
*****
The door closed behind Dean as he shouted one more: “Sure you’ll be ok?” through it. Gabriel sighed, slumping back against the door. Sam leaned on his crutches in front of him, arched eyebrows.
“Spatial bugger.”
“Yes, Sam. I’m a social butterfly.” Gabe didn’t know why he knew what the man was trying to say, but he did. “But, pardon my French, thank fuck they’re gone.”
“Sexy tomes…” Sam frowned and Gabriel felt a smile grow, bubbling up in his chest. He snorted.
“Well… I can’t say no to an offer like that. But I have a feeling you meant that you were sleepy?” Gabriel stepped forward, running a hand over Sam’s face, over the stubbly hair that was just starting to grow out again and trailing down his chest. “Mm, Samsquatch, I ever tell you just how sexy I find your chest?” He looked up at the man with a slight smile.
“You.” A pause. “Yes.”
“Yes to what, Sam?” Gabriel asked, leaning up to steal a kiss, just a brush of lips. Sam smiled lightly and followed him down, kissing him again, deepening the kiss, tongue demanding entrance that Gabriel gladly gave. He hummed a little, deep in his throat before breaking apart.
“Don’t want your arms to fall asleep...” Gabriel waggled his eyebrows before turning and making his way to his bedroom. “Might have use for them yet!” Sam’s exhaustion showed as he followed on his crutches. He’d become proficient quite quickly, but... well, it had been a very long day.
As soon as Sam was sitting on his bed, looking rather distinctly out of place, Gabriel moved again, closing the door and taking Sam’s crutches and putting them by the side of the bed he never slept on. Moving back, he saw Sam trying to remove his shirt. Gabriel stopped him, kissing him lightly as he stood over him. Not that there was much of a height difference now that Sam was sitting (He had an unusually tall bed in his defense).
He grasped the edge of Sam’s t-shirt and pulled it up slowly, letting his knuckles graze Sam’s abs, neatly missing the areas where he’d had stitches in until recently. Sam raised his arms obediently and Gabriel pulled his shirt off before helping him wiggle his way back onto the bed, taking the loose pajama pants that were the only thing he currently owned that fit around his cast as they went. He crawled over Sam, letting the man lie still. He wasn’t totally asleep though, Gabriel could tell from the half erect cock pressing up at Sam’s boxers. He straddled Sam’s stomach and leaned down to thoroughly kiss him, shamelessly brushing his own cock against the taller man’s stomach, letting the sensations shoot through him. This was exactly where he was supposed to be.
There were flashes of light, spatters of blood in the room and Sam couldn’t control his breathing, gasping, sucking at the thin air, trying not to inhale smoke instead of oxygen. There was a fire in the next room and Brady was standing in the doorway, the flames licking at his feet, his hands. He was practically on fire and Sam shouted for him to get away, but his best friend just looked at him as if it was Sam’s own damn fault. He looked over to see Gabriel sleeping peacefully and tried to get out of bed only to find he didn’t have legs. He shouted for Brady to move but no noise came out of his mouth. Brady’s hand slowly raised and Sam suddenly collapsed into a ball of pain, like a burning knife was thrust into his side. Someone was shouting his name, but it wasn’t Brady. No. He choked, sobbed and then he was awake, gasping, sucking in air.
There wasn’t any smoke in the air, just a quiet dark room and he focused on the ceiling fan, watching it drift lazily around. Slowly, he became aware of the fact that his hand was encapsulated in someone else’s hands and there were quiet words being spoken. He turned his head to see Gabriel sitting in the bed, holding his hand and speaking softly, as if he would spook at the first loud noise. He moaned a little and Gabriel smiled a sad little smile that drew Sam farther from his night terror into the evening.
“Do you wanna talk about it, Sam?” Gabriel’s voice was quiet, serious and Sam almost said yes but then something stuck in his throat and he remembered that words weren’t his friend and he couldn’t. He couldn’t talk about Brady yet. So he kissed Gabriel instead, ignoring the way that the salt of his tears dripped down his face, infiltrated his kisses.
*****
Sam vaguely heard the alarm go off the next morning before the loud slap of a hand knocking into wood and plastic, shutting the noise off and mumbled cursing before a lithe body slid up to his, hand coming to rest on his pectoral muscles.
“Good morning Sam-a-lam.”
“Every...” Sam felt the truth crash over him as he heard his mouth say something completely differently from what he’d told it to say. He breathed in, raising his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.
“Out through your mouth,” the voice was quiet, the hand rubbing on his chest lightly. He let the air sail out of his lungs, letting his eyes open slowly, finding a pair of hazel eyes looking at him seriously.
“Gab-ay” A smile slid over the man’s face.
“That’s me!” He said while leaning over and brushing his lips across Sam’s. “Now, I have to go to work today. I’ll try and leave as soon as I can, but my shift’s twelve hours.” He was standing, walking towards the attached bathroom before he turned back. “Feel free to go back to sleep.”
It seemed like only moments later when his eyes snapped open to stare at the empty space on the bed next to him, a slightly crumpled piece of paper tented up on the pillow with his name written on it. He snatched it up.
Sam, you were sleeping when I got out of the shower (someday, we’ll have to try one of those together, maybe when the rest of your stitches come out!). There should be plenty of food in the refrigerator, feel free to use my TV or watch any of my movies. You can find my internet password by the router. I’ll try and be home as quick as I can. - Gabriel
PS The sex last night before we went to sleep was great kiddo. Would love to try it again soon.
PPS If you ever want to tell me about Brady, I’ll be there in a flash.
Sam sat up slowly, staring at the room with more interest than he could have mustered last night. He had been distracted and then completely exhausted. His body ached in all the right places. If you didn’t count the lingering pain and sharp twinges in his side from his healing ribs. He hobbled around the apartment on his crutches, almost grateful that his injuries slowed him down. It allowed him to really inspect the intricate details of Gabriel’s apartment. Like his book collection (Sparser than Sam would ever have let a collection get), his DVD collection (far larger than Sam had ever had) and his kitchen (actually rather impressive). The TV was drool-worthy and Sam had spotted a few gaming consoles as well. He eased himself onto the couch and looked around, wondering what the hell to do with himself. It was strange, knowing he was in San Diego but not in his own apartment.
Gabriel had gone above and beyond what had been expected of him by bringing him into his own home. They’d been a weekend fling and while Sam had wanted more, he hadn’t wanted to expect more, especially with his occupation.. It was…humiliating that he couldn’t go to his own apartment. But he could barely get around on his crutches, stairs were a no go as yet and his brother, despite protests, would have to return to service soon. Honestly, he wasn’t entirely sure how Dean’d gotten the time in the first place and he wasn’t going to ask. And well, sex was another plus. There was something between them; the sex was better than he’d ever experienced. Even with a broken leg and cracked ribs (which were healing well, thank you very much).
He spent most of the day making his way through a TV series Gabriel had tucked away behind some of his extensive movie collection. It was a cop procedural, violent but not graphic. He hadn’t expected to like it all that much, but apparently he did because the next thing he knew, he could hear the scrape of the key in the lock and Gabriel entering his apartment, talking to someone, a woman. Sam struggled to push himself up on his crutches as the footsteps rounded the corner into the living space. Gabriel and a woman with smooth lightly tanned skin and dark hair that was currently held back in a bun.
“Well, look at you. Gabriel said you were a looker and he wasn’t kidding.” The woman laughed, a full throaty laugh that startled Sam into smiling back.
“Sammy... I couldn’t keep her away. Pam, this is Sam, Sam, Pam. I’ll let you two have fun with your names; I’m too pooped to say the right thing.”
“Pets.” Sam pulled a face. Days alone allowed him to forget that he couldn’t talk, not really. He had some words, but his comprehensible vocabulary was that of about a one year old. Pathetic.
“That’s right Sam, I’m Pam. Now, I was telling Gabe-boy here all about how you ought to learn sign language and teach Gabriel.”
Sam hmmed, startled by how up front the woman was. “Wow, Gabriel, strong and silent, how’d you get so lucky?” the woman asked as she shrugged off her purse and hung it absently on the coat rack, tank top riding high, baring a strip of tan toned skin and a hint of a tattoo as she turned away from him. His eyes widened and flew back to Gabriel.
“Ok, you told him Pammy. Now you promised me a sweet treat!” Gabriel whined.
“And I shall deliver. Gabriel, may I present you the sweetest treat of all, the man currently standing in front of you.” Sam hadn’t known he could blush more.
“Paaaaaaaam,” Gabriel groaned. “You know what I interpreted that as. Why are you being awful?” He glanced over at Sam, a half grin on his face that couldn’t help but make Sam brighten up a little. “No offense Samsquatch, you are delicious and I plan on eating you up later.” A waggle of eyebrows had Sam going right back to scarlet. He hadn’t blushed this much since Susie Taylor had asked him out in the fourth grade.
****
Time passed quickly, hours into days. Sam had really taken to sign language, even as Gabriel hadn’t, so the language gap was still there. It was getting better; the speech therapist came to Gabriel’s apartment to help him. Sam was completely convinced that Gabriel had either called in some huge favor or threatened her in some drastic way, despite both of them denying it and saying this was standard treatment, She’d told him on her second visit that he was improving rapidly, far beyond expectations. He was now consistently getting the words a two year old would say out and he was working on multiple syllable words sometimes. Gabriel usually spent his long days at the hospital and while Sam was lonely, he couldn’t blame him for his job. It was demanding and tiring. Dean came over sometimes, took him for rides in the Impala. Neither of them mentioned it except when Gabriel had forced it into the open at the hospital and Dean had slunk into his room later to tell him the exact date he was expected back, but Dean would be taking off back for parts unknown in less than a week. Something in Sam broke, wanting desperately to be back in Iraq where he was needed, useful. He didn’t begrudge Dean his service, but sometimes the jealousy that wracked his body made it difficult to breathe.
Pam sometimes showed up after work with Gabriel, but she usually only practiced signing with Sam (crude teasing remarks that were actually funny if he didn’t take offense).She stayed for a little while, had a beer with them and then took off. Castiel had even shown up once or twice, causing Sam to stand there awkwardly as Castiel studied him, no sense that his staring was off-putting. Dean had been there both times and both times seemed to have sensed Sam’s discomfort and had dragged the man off for ‘drinks to loosen you up’ or some shit, after an hour.
Castiel went willingly enough, even as Gabriel remarked that his brother-in-arms never drank. Sam sat up, realizing he’d heard Gabriel’s car pull into the assigned parking space out front. The car had a distinct… rattle that Sam had been trying to get Gabriel to get fixed, but, well, it hadn’t happened yet; then again, they’d only been sharing the space for a week and a half now. He had plenty of time to work on the man. He’d expected Gabe to have appeared already but the door hadn’t opened yet. He pulled himself up with his crutches and hobbled over to the front door, unlocking and pulling it open to see Gabriel sitting in his car, staring at nothing, just sitting there. He’d never seen the man sit so still. Carefully leaving the door open, he made his way over to the car and lowered himself into the passenger seat. The man hadn’t seen him coming, not until he’d opened the door.
“Sam, what’re you doing out here?” Gabriel frowned. “No pulled stitches or anything? I told you, you can text or call me anytime if something goes wrong.”
“No - no thh thing. Seersucker.” Sam frowned, almost amused by the word that had just come out of his mouth. “Ssss. Eyes.” He finally settled on, gesturing to his own and then pointed at Gabriel. “Car.”
“Oh. Yeah. That.” Gabriel laughed, almost fooling Sam with his light tone. Something was wrong though, Gabriel’s eyes weren’t laughing. Gabriel’s eyes always laughed when he found something funny. “Just plotting how best to surprise you. Your expressions are the best. See?!” Gabriel tapped Sam’s nose. “Exactly like that.”
Sam shook his head. “No.” He dug into his pocket, pulling the tiny notebook he kept on him and the pen with it. You were sitting out here in your car for five minutes. What’s up?
“Nothing, I already told you! Can’t you just leave it alone for fuck’s sake?” Gabriel snapped, leaving the car in a flurry and slamming the door behind him. Sam blinked. That had been rather unexpected. He knew Gabriel had a sharp tongue, but he’d never had it used against him. He followed slowly, letting the silence drape heavily over the two of them for the evening. That evening was the first one Sam chose to sleep in the guest room, letting Gabriel dictate the terms. Even if it wasn’t like any fight he’d ever been in before: maybe only because of his lack of ability to communicate, but now it was still a fight and he’d pissed Gabriel off.
He woke in the middle of the night to Gabriel crawling into the bed with him, still quiet, but kissing him frantically and Sam let him, didn’t question it, just let the small blonde man overwhelm him. It was the first time he bottomed for Gabriel, but Sam knew he wanted it again, wanted that release of giving up and trusting, trusting that he was cared for, wanted.
***
Things went back to what had become normal after that, Gabriel helping him run his errands, Castiel dropping by occasionally, Pam teasing him. Dean had left and Gabriel had driven him home in the Impala, with many stern threats on Dean’s part about what would happen to Gabriel if he so much as scratched his baby. When Gabriel found out that Dean and Sam’s dad had basically raised them to go into the military and they’d never really gotten to do the typical childhood things: go to random movies at three in the afternoon, spend all day lazing about, go to the zoo, Gabriel started doing that for him.
Sam received his first disability check from the Marines about a month into his time with Gabriel. It was getting close to the time where he was going to get a walking boot. He hadn’t gotten much beyond small words in his therapy, but his therapist continued to say that he was improving very quickly.
After Sam had, to put it lightly, flipped out because it hadn’t seemed like it, the therapist had explained just how slowly most people improved from these kinds of injuries. That had been a reality check, if a frustrating one. Gabriel had sat with him after, held his hand as Sam raged, incoherent words and thoughts spilling from his lips until Sam started sobbing, wild in his pain, his grief, his trauma at seeing his best friend die, his fear now that Dean would die because Sam wasn’t there to take care of him. Gabriel had smoothed Sam’s hair, brushed the tears away and let Sam work his way through it.
Gabriel had walked into the apartment with the mail in hand. Sam had been experiencing some rather severe pain, which he’d been warned about and had been trying to move as little as possible. He held one particular piece of mail addressed to Sam, a funny expression on his face. Sam had taken it and opened it, casually tucking the check into his wallet so he could deposit it when he and Gabriel went out to lunch on Gabriel’s next day off.
“That’s it?” Gabriel asked suddenly. “What, they just gave you a check and you’re just hiding it away in your wallet?”
“Uhmm, yes?” Sam said, frowning. “Port balm?”
“No, it’s not a problem. Just thought it deserved more care than tossing it into your wallet. I mean, the government’s compensating you because you got hurt.” Gabriel crossed to the kitchen, banging around in the drawers before pulling out a candy bar, unwrapping it and biting down. Sam stared, bewildered. There was clearly something more to this story.
“G’brel” He finally said, pulling himself up to lean on his crutches right in Gabriel’s space. “Tall me.”
“I…” Gabriel’s hands clenched and loosened forcibly. “No.” Gabriel gathered himself. “You need to leave it alone. Stop asking me to talk. I can’t. ” Which was all Gabriel said on the subject. He tried asking Castiel, who only told him that Gabriel would tell him if he wanted Sam to know. Pamela just changed the subject, a wary look coming into her eyes. Sam decided to let it lie for the time being.
***
It’s when he gets his walking boot that things change. Pam comes over one night and Sam’s practicing signing with her, she says she learned back when she was in college to talk to a cute boy, they’d lasted a couple of years, which is why she was still pretty fluent. He was proud of himself for a moment when he makes her laugh using a sign language joke until Gabriel butts in, wanting to know what the joke was at which point he sets his jaw. The man had barely tried to learn, so he turns away and watches the tv, letting Pamela attempt to translate it second hand.
Later, when they’re in bed together, breathing hard, heart rates pounding, sweating, Gabriel lets loose on him. “What the hell was that about, Sam?” If Sam’s picked up one thing, it’s that Gabriel never uses his real name unless he’s annoyed or tetchy in some way.
Sam signs sex.
“Exactly!” Gabriel says, sliding out of the bed to stand looking down at him. Sam crooks himself up on his elbow, frowning. “You can’t just sign stuff at me when you know I don’t understand. You have to communicate.”
Sam rolls his eyes. “Try.” He finally says quietly.
“I did! Sammy, you have to know, I did.” Gabriel stands there with a pleading look on his face and Sam melts a little.
He grabs the pad and pen from the bedside table. I’m sorry. Signing is so much easier than talking. I wish you could. Sam frowns. He really doesn’t want to fight with Gabriel right now. Gabriel kisses him on the forehead and slides back into bed, cuddling in. They don’t say a word.
Five days later, when Castiel is there, Sam tries another joke. It doesn’t go over nearly as smoothly, mostly because, Sam thinks, Castiel deliberately ignores humor. Gabriel still wants to know and Sam rolls his eyes. Gabriel has to know everything. They don’t talk for a couple hours and when Gabriel confronts him, Sam blows up a little.
If you want me to tell you everything, why don’t you try telling me what keeps you frozen in your car or over the stove as if you were in a different world? You’re keeping things from me and you want me to tell you everything? Gabriel slams out of the room at that without a word. Sam doesn’t see him for a day and when he texts Castiel, he barely gets a response beyond that Gabriel is physically alive and well.
He texts Gabriel twenty four hours into his absence. It’s odd, that he’s the one who was walked out on when this isn’t even his apartment. Maybe that’s the crux of the problem, that Gabriel doesn’t want him here anymore. He starts packing his bags.
Gabriel shows up two hours later, hair dripping from the rain and when he sees Sam’s bags packed, his lips tighten and Sam’s heart clenches. He thinks he’s falling in love with the man, but there’s something… broken between them and he can’t live here and fix it.
He runs a hand along Gabriel’s face, who turns into his hand, brushing his lips against Sam’s palm. “We’re so broken.”
Sam nods. He gives Gabe his already written note. I want us to work and I think this is making us fall apart. We need to have a foundation before we build the house. Gabriel reads it, folds it, unfolds it, reads it again. He looks up at Sam and leans up, kisses him deeply.
“I understand. There are things, things I have to tell you, but I can’t, not right now. I need help.” Gabriel admits and Sam gets it, because he does too. He’s broken from what happened in the Marines, broken from how he was raised. He scrawls down on his notepad. Dinner at my apartment, tomorrow? He takes a breath and speaks. “Please. G’brel.”
“How can I say no?” Gabriel says spreading his hands before taking Sam’s and leaning up to kiss him. Sam falls into the kiss, falls into this man who caught him with one chance look in a bar.