fic: Mystery Spot Misunderstanding - 6/? PG-13
Title: Mystery Spot Misunderstanding
Author: wolfish_willow
Pairing: Sam/Gabriel
Rating: PG-13 this part, NC-17 overall
Genre: angst, hurt/comfort
Spoilers: Anything up to and including 5.14
Warnings: angsty!Sam (man, my warnings are freakin' mild, aren't they?)
Word Count: 1290
Disclaimer: Not my characters. Just using them for a bit of fun. They belong to Kripke.
Summary: Gabriel goes all angsty, and Sam suffers for it. (AU from 5.14 - so all episodes after My Bloody Valentine are being totally and utterly disregarded. *nodnod*)
A/N 1: beta'd by ladyeternal Thanks so much, bb! Any remaining mistakes are my own.
Masterpost
Sam felt every one of his muscles tense when he saw Gabriel sitting on his bed in their motel room. Especially after he heard Dean close the door behind them. Why hadn’t he let Dean go in first? Why did he have to shove past his brother? If he’d just come in after Dean, he could have turned around after he caught his first glimpse of Gabriel and run and run and run and he wouldn’t be trapped between his brother and his boyfr- ex-boyfriend who may or may not have been torturing him in his head for a week.
He hoped Dean hadn’t seen the way he'd started at his brother’s voice - he’d almost thought he was asleep and dreaming again, so he couldn’t be blamed if he was surprised to hear a voice other than Gabriel’s or Lucifer’s. Sam watched as Gabriel stood from his bed- God, why was Gabriel in his bed? Why did he feel the need to mess with Sam so badly? - and prepared to speak. He didn’t think he could handle whatever might come out of the angel’s mouth, and if this wasn’t a dream - and if he couldn’t get through his brother and out the main door - then he could at least put one door between himself and Gabriel. Sam didn’t even know what words left his mouth before he bolted for the bathroom, carefully closing and locking the door behind him. His reaction to Gabriel in front of his brother was bad enough; he didn’t need to slam the door closed. If he’d done that then Dean would have just rushed over and probably broken it down trying to get to him. And really, the only thing keeping Sam the least bit sane right then was having that barrier between himself and the angel.
Everything seemed tilted to him. Sam gripped the edges of the counter, unable to avoid looking at his reflection in the mirror. His face was deathly pale; he hadn’t realized he’d started sweating until he saw the wet-looking fringes of his bangs sticking to his forehead. Everything is so messed up, he thought, shaking his head and running the water in the sink. Outside the little room where he’d locked himself away, Sam heard his brother say something to the archangel. And he sounded angry. Maybe Gabriel was the one getting into his head; maybe his brother was upset because the angel was bragging about all the damage he’d caused. The thought didn’t stay in his head - and really, that was a good thing because if he let himself truly believe that Gabriel could hurt him after what they’d had he was pretty sure he’d start sobbing - because he couldn’t hear Gabriel saying anything yet. If the angel wanted to boast about everything, Sam was sure he’d hear that same, cruel voice from in his dreams.
Splashing ice cold water on his face did nothing to calm the tremors that wracked his body; he dried his face with one of the cleaner-looking motel towels next to the sink. This wasn’t fair. Why did these things keep happening to him? He knew he wasn’t a good person; that he’d brought the Apocalypse on the world - and anyone who did that deserved punishment - but it hurt. He couldn’t stand how he felt all the time now: scared - terrified - of waking up to find out his nightmares weren’t nightmares anymore. He pressed his back against the door and slid down to the ground, bringing his knees up to his chest. Wrapping his arms around his legs, Sam tried to calm his breathing and keep himself from completely breaking down. So far he hadn’t done a great job of keeping it from happening, but his brother was right outside the door and if Sam started sobbing or hyperventilating, there would be no hiding it from Dean. So he forced himself to breathe deeply, in and out, until the world looked less tilted and he thought he’d be able to control himself again.
His brain finally kicked back in, his rationality having previously abandoned him in favor of instinct to hide, and he realized how idiotic it was for him to have hidden in the bathroom. To have thought of running out of the motel. Gabriel was an archangel. He could just snap himself into the room. And really, Sam couldn’t have run far enough to hide, assuming their rib sigils even worked against Gabriel anymore, before Gabriel would have caught up to him. The sound of voices carried through the door behind him and he felt himself stiffen when he recognized one as Gabriel’s. But he couldn’t make out any of the words. The tone didn’t sound as threatening as he’d feared it would, but in his nightmares there were times when Gabriel spoke to him like he had when they were together, alone and happy. It never seemed to stop him from returning to the use of his sneering tone, like Sam was the worst thing in the world to have been with.
And hell, he probably was. All anyone had to do was look at his track record with relationships. He’d gotten Jess killed, however unintentional it had been, killed Madison himself. Ruby had been a manipulative bitch who’d figured out easily how to use him, twist him all around. He hadn’t let himself think like this before, didn’t want to let whoever was getting into his dreams win; because he wasn’t one hundred percent sure that Lucifer wasn’t somehow involved - even if the devil was the one who saved him every night from Gabriel’s cruel words and actions, trying to comfort him afterwards - because it could have all been a trick of his.
But now he was thinking about everything and it all made sense. Why Gabriel didn’t have a problem hurting him, why he had ended things. Sam ran his hand down across his face, breathing deeply once more to keep his newly formed tears from falling - he needed to get control of himself. Gabriel was right outside the door, could snap into the room - or, hell, snap Sam out of the bathroom to the main room even - and he couldn’t let Gabriel or Dean see him like this.
He shook his head roughly and pushed his hand through his hair, realizing he could probably use a shower after all the digging in that cemetery earlier; he couldn’t bring himself to risk taking his clothes off with Gabriel in the motel, though. Really, he needed to get up, walk out of the bathroom and face whatever was coming. Because if the archangel wanted to do something, there wasn’t anything Sam, or Dean, could do about it. And he just wanted to get whatever was coming, get it over with. Maybe if Gabriel brought it about while he was awake, he’d actually get to sleep tonight.
He ran his hand down his face one more time, and stood from his spot on the ground, unfolding his sore limbs. Sighing, he looked once more at his reflection. At least he didn’t look like he’d been in the room crying. He released a shaky breath and turned to unlock the door. There was no use hiding, and maybe if he showed Gabriel that he’d won - showed him that he’d accomplished his goal in creating a broken hearted Sam; a broken Sam, he thought despairingly - the archangel would leave him alone.
Chapter Five Chapter Seven
A/N 2: Sorry, sorry, sorry it took so long to update. Right as I was finishing up part 9, I got sick. So I've been in and out of sleep for the past two days/nights. I got this back from my beta the other day and was just waiting until I finished the other chapter first. And of course halfway through writing it, I had a major case of writer's block yet again. But thankfully that went away. So I'll hopefully be through part 10 by this weekend. *crosses fingers*
Author: wolfish_willow
Pairing: Sam/Gabriel
Rating: PG-13 this part, NC-17 overall
Genre: angst, hurt/comfort
Spoilers: Anything up to and including 5.14
Warnings: angsty!Sam (man, my warnings are freakin' mild, aren't they?)
Word Count: 1290
Disclaimer: Not my characters. Just using them for a bit of fun. They belong to Kripke.
Summary: Gabriel goes all angsty, and Sam suffers for it. (AU from 5.14 - so all episodes after My Bloody Valentine are being totally and utterly disregarded. *nodnod*)
A/N 1: beta'd by ladyeternal Thanks so much, bb! Any remaining mistakes are my own.
Masterpost
Sam felt every one of his muscles tense when he saw Gabriel sitting on his bed in their motel room. Especially after he heard Dean close the door behind them. Why hadn’t he let Dean go in first? Why did he have to shove past his brother? If he’d just come in after Dean, he could have turned around after he caught his first glimpse of Gabriel and run and run and run and he wouldn’t be trapped between his brother and his boyfr- ex-boyfriend who may or may not have been torturing him in his head for a week.
He hoped Dean hadn’t seen the way he'd started at his brother’s voice - he’d almost thought he was asleep and dreaming again, so he couldn’t be blamed if he was surprised to hear a voice other than Gabriel’s or Lucifer’s. Sam watched as Gabriel stood from his bed- God, why was Gabriel in his bed? Why did he feel the need to mess with Sam so badly? - and prepared to speak. He didn’t think he could handle whatever might come out of the angel’s mouth, and if this wasn’t a dream - and if he couldn’t get through his brother and out the main door - then he could at least put one door between himself and Gabriel. Sam didn’t even know what words left his mouth before he bolted for the bathroom, carefully closing and locking the door behind him. His reaction to Gabriel in front of his brother was bad enough; he didn’t need to slam the door closed. If he’d done that then Dean would have just rushed over and probably broken it down trying to get to him. And really, the only thing keeping Sam the least bit sane right then was having that barrier between himself and the angel.
Everything seemed tilted to him. Sam gripped the edges of the counter, unable to avoid looking at his reflection in the mirror. His face was deathly pale; he hadn’t realized he’d started sweating until he saw the wet-looking fringes of his bangs sticking to his forehead. Everything is so messed up, he thought, shaking his head and running the water in the sink. Outside the little room where he’d locked himself away, Sam heard his brother say something to the archangel. And he sounded angry. Maybe Gabriel was the one getting into his head; maybe his brother was upset because the angel was bragging about all the damage he’d caused. The thought didn’t stay in his head - and really, that was a good thing because if he let himself truly believe that Gabriel could hurt him after what they’d had he was pretty sure he’d start sobbing - because he couldn’t hear Gabriel saying anything yet. If the angel wanted to boast about everything, Sam was sure he’d hear that same, cruel voice from in his dreams.
Splashing ice cold water on his face did nothing to calm the tremors that wracked his body; he dried his face with one of the cleaner-looking motel towels next to the sink. This wasn’t fair. Why did these things keep happening to him? He knew he wasn’t a good person; that he’d brought the Apocalypse on the world - and anyone who did that deserved punishment - but it hurt. He couldn’t stand how he felt all the time now: scared - terrified - of waking up to find out his nightmares weren’t nightmares anymore. He pressed his back against the door and slid down to the ground, bringing his knees up to his chest. Wrapping his arms around his legs, Sam tried to calm his breathing and keep himself from completely breaking down. So far he hadn’t done a great job of keeping it from happening, but his brother was right outside the door and if Sam started sobbing or hyperventilating, there would be no hiding it from Dean. So he forced himself to breathe deeply, in and out, until the world looked less tilted and he thought he’d be able to control himself again.
His brain finally kicked back in, his rationality having previously abandoned him in favor of instinct to hide, and he realized how idiotic it was for him to have hidden in the bathroom. To have thought of running out of the motel. Gabriel was an archangel. He could just snap himself into the room. And really, Sam couldn’t have run far enough to hide, assuming their rib sigils even worked against Gabriel anymore, before Gabriel would have caught up to him. The sound of voices carried through the door behind him and he felt himself stiffen when he recognized one as Gabriel’s. But he couldn’t make out any of the words. The tone didn’t sound as threatening as he’d feared it would, but in his nightmares there were times when Gabriel spoke to him like he had when they were together, alone and happy. It never seemed to stop him from returning to the use of his sneering tone, like Sam was the worst thing in the world to have been with.
And hell, he probably was. All anyone had to do was look at his track record with relationships. He’d gotten Jess killed, however unintentional it had been, killed Madison himself. Ruby had been a manipulative bitch who’d figured out easily how to use him, twist him all around. He hadn’t let himself think like this before, didn’t want to let whoever was getting into his dreams win; because he wasn’t one hundred percent sure that Lucifer wasn’t somehow involved - even if the devil was the one who saved him every night from Gabriel’s cruel words and actions, trying to comfort him afterwards - because it could have all been a trick of his.
But now he was thinking about everything and it all made sense. Why Gabriel didn’t have a problem hurting him, why he had ended things. Sam ran his hand down across his face, breathing deeply once more to keep his newly formed tears from falling - he needed to get control of himself. Gabriel was right outside the door, could snap into the room - or, hell, snap Sam out of the bathroom to the main room even - and he couldn’t let Gabriel or Dean see him like this.
He shook his head roughly and pushed his hand through his hair, realizing he could probably use a shower after all the digging in that cemetery earlier; he couldn’t bring himself to risk taking his clothes off with Gabriel in the motel, though. Really, he needed to get up, walk out of the bathroom and face whatever was coming. Because if the archangel wanted to do something, there wasn’t anything Sam, or Dean, could do about it. And he just wanted to get whatever was coming, get it over with. Maybe if Gabriel brought it about while he was awake, he’d actually get to sleep tonight.
He ran his hand down his face one more time, and stood from his spot on the ground, unfolding his sore limbs. Sighing, he looked once more at his reflection. At least he didn’t look like he’d been in the room crying. He released a shaky breath and turned to unlock the door. There was no use hiding, and maybe if he showed Gabriel that he’d won - showed him that he’d accomplished his goal in creating a broken hearted Sam; a broken Sam, he thought despairingly - the archangel would leave him alone.
Chapter Five Chapter Seven
A/N 2: Sorry, sorry, sorry it took so long to update. Right as I was finishing up part 9, I got sick. So I've been in and out of sleep for the past two days/nights. I got this back from my beta the other day and was just waiting until I finished the other chapter first. And of course halfway through writing it, I had a major case of writer's block yet again. But thankfully that went away. So I'll hopefully be through part 10 by this weekend. *crosses fingers*