[A cursed weapon. Cursed. Powerful enough to deflect even an angel's grace. Fucking demons. What better way to take the fight out of the archangel than to kill his heart? His love. Gabriel kneels beside Sam, lifting him into his arms.] Don't you do thise, kid. Don't you dare die on me.
[Sam chokes out some blood as Gabriel moves him. He struggles to breathe, in and out, his body shaking. The knife is still imbedded into his chest, probably puncturing a lung.]
Hey. [Sam manages to get out, trying to smile up to the angel.] 's...it's okay, Gabe.
[Nonononono. The words were a panicked drone in his mind as he threw his shoulder against the door. Once. Twice. Finally the wood splintered and gave beneath a frantic hunter.
[What Bobby saw in the room made him sick. Bastard hunters had taken Sam, beaten the kid nearly beyond recognition. Half his face was caved in, ribs broken, arm and wrist at an unnatural angle. Choking back an anguished sound, he kneels beside the man he calls son, moving a lank bit of hair from his face.]
[Pain. All Sam can feel is pain. From every angle, in every inch of his body. It's not something he's not used to, after so much time with Lucifer, but surprisingly, it doesn't make it much better. Pain is still excruciating, no matter how often one experiences it.]
[His wrists are chained, though he's vaugely sure they're broken, anyway. It's almost impossible to breathe, and he wants to stop, but he can't. He has a feeling he will soon, though.]
[When he feels a calloused hand sweep across his forehead, he manages to open his eyes. Bobby. He's happy that he gets to see the face of someone he loves before he dies, at least. That's a precious mercy.] Hey.
[He'd already killed every hunter on his way in to Sam. None were left alive. But Bobby wishes that he could go back and kill them all over again after he takes in what was done to him. To his son.
[The manacles are unlocked and he gingerly lays Sam's hands on his chest.] Hey kid. I'm here. [His voice is rough with emotion as he cradles him close.] I'm right here.
[He barely recognizes that he's being moved. The pain is already dieing down to a dull throbbing. Through the hazy mist of his vision, he can see Bobby above him, feels him holding him, and it makes him feel inexplicably safe.] They coming back? [The hunters had worked him over in more ways than one. Didn't trigger particularly happy memories from Hell, either.]
No, Sam. No. They're not coming back and they're not going to hurt anyone every again. [Bastards. Doing this to Sam. His son. Tears streak unnoticed down his face as he settles Sam in his arms. The one thing he deserves is to pass in peace and by Christ, he's gonna give that to him.] I'm here. I've got you, son. Ain't nobody gonna hurt you now.
[He settles against Bobby's chest then, allowing the pain to slip away a bit more. He's dying, but that's okay. It really is. He leans his head into Bobby's arms.] Tell D-dean, that's...that it's okay. Yeah?
[Bobby chokes on a grieved sound as Sam curls into him. He simply holds him tighter, fingers running over his sweat-damp hair. Didn't have the heart to tell him that his own brother had fallen trying to get to him.
[Maybe it was better that way. One couldn't really exist without the other. They needed each other too much. But he needed them too, damnit.
[Soon Sam would be gone and he'd be alone again.] I will, Sam. You, you just rest now. I've got you. I've got you son.
[It was better. Sam and Dean could never live without each other, not really. Sam can't really thinks about that, now. It's getting harder and harder to stay awake, so he takes Bobby's wrist before he looses the strength to.]
T-thank you. For everything. [He manages to give the man a small, if sincere, peaceful, smile, blood coating his lips and streaks down his cheeks were tears came down.] Love you.
[He closes his eyes, letting Bobby's face be the last thing he sees, as his heartbeat starts to slow.]
[And Bobby settles his hand in Sam's hair. He blinks past the tears, wiping the blood and the tears from Sam's face.] You just rest now, son. You rest.
I love you too, son. I love you too. [Bobby watches his eyes slide slowly shut, choking on a hard sound of denial.]
The hell am I supposed to do now, kid? The hell am I supposed to do without you and your brother? [It's a quiet, anguished rasp as he pulls Sam near enough to rest his cheek against his forehead.] The hell am I going to go on without you boys?
Time Left: A few minutes
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Hey. [Sam manages to get out, trying to smile up to the angel.] 's...it's okay, Gabe.
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[What Bobby saw in the room made him sick. Bastard hunters had taken Sam, beaten the kid nearly beyond recognition. Half his face was caved in, ribs broken, arm and wrist at an unnatural angle. Choking back an anguished sound, he kneels beside the man he calls son, moving a lank bit of hair from his face.]
Sam? C'mon kid, give me a sign here.
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[His wrists are chained, though he's vaugely sure they're broken, anyway. It's almost impossible to breathe, and he wants to stop, but he can't. He has a feeling he will soon, though.]
[When he feels a calloused hand sweep across his forehead, he manages to open his eyes. Bobby. He's happy that he gets to see the face of someone he loves before he dies, at least. That's a precious mercy.] Hey.
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[The manacles are unlocked and he gingerly lays Sam's hands on his chest.] Hey kid. I'm here. [His voice is rough with emotion as he cradles him close.] I'm right here.
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[Maybe it was better that way. One couldn't really exist without the other. They needed each other too much. But he needed them too, damnit.
[Soon Sam would be gone and he'd be alone again.] I will, Sam. You, you just rest now. I've got you. I've got you son.
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T-thank you. For everything. [He manages to give the man a small, if sincere, peaceful, smile, blood coating his lips and streaks down his cheeks were tears came down.] Love you.
[He closes his eyes, letting Bobby's face be the last thing he sees, as his heartbeat starts to slow.]
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I love you too, son. I love you too. [Bobby watches his eyes slide slowly shut, choking on a hard sound of denial.]
The hell am I supposed to do now, kid? The hell am I supposed to do without you and your brother? [It's a quiet, anguished rasp as he pulls Sam near enough to rest his cheek against his forehead.] The hell am I going to go on without you boys?
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