Sam's eyes widened, silent mouth moving impotently, forming words like 'no' and 'Gabe' and 'don't'. He grabbed the angel and shook him by the shoulders, his expression twisting with the anger and arrogance of heroes trained to believe that there were always other ways.
"No, Sam. Castiel has all but fallen, our father will not believe someone carrying his mark and there is no one else who can give you what you need." For an eternity spent between obedience and entertainment, it was strange to suddenly feel brave, but he reveled in it, built his far-too-worldly smile on it. "If my father thinks me worthy, he will raise me up again. I'm willing to take that chance."
Loosening his grip on the angel's shoulders, Sam glared a long time, but finally turned his eyes away, hating it and understanding, both at once.
"Close your eyes." You've seen me for the last time. He didn't let his smile wane, though it seemed soaked in bitter and sweet in equal measure.
Shining glassy dots settled at the edge of Sam's eyes as his mouth shaped itself to words the angel's ego didn't make him miss or strain to hear. "... I love you."
They both echoed breaths that they'd yanked in, shivery and quick. Gabriel was the one to finally end it, though, to pull the curtains over Sam's needing, seeking eyes, knowing it would never be done otherwise. Then, he fought the fabric of Sam's shirt and shoved it up to feel the body warm under his hand, and as they stood together, breathed together, both their muscles shook beneath facades too fragile to hold onto.
"Gabriel ... please …"
The pain there, the aloneness that had seeped its way to Sam's marrow only to rupture up again, made the angel want to scream, to choke, to beg his departed father for a way to let him stay. Instead, though, he just closed his eyes and pressed fingers made of Heaven's purifying fire into his mortal charge and mortal lover. He listened to Sam's scream as it roared in every ear for acres, wild like the collected souls of Hell, and he wept his love, like burning blood into the wound he left behind. Then Gabriel, as he was called, an archangel, bright and bold as all his kin, shrank and broke and faded, his lightning, the last of him and brilliant gold, sparking claims across Sam's skin.
SPN, Gabriel/Sam, Wear My Feather 2/2
"No, Sam. Castiel has all but fallen, our father will not believe someone carrying his mark and there is no one else who can give you what you need." For an eternity spent between obedience and entertainment, it was strange to suddenly feel brave, but he reveled in it, built his far-too-worldly smile on it. "If my father thinks me worthy, he will raise me up again. I'm willing to take that chance."
Loosening his grip on the angel's shoulders, Sam glared a long time, but finally turned his eyes away, hating it and understanding, both at once.
"Close your eyes." You've seen me for the last time. He didn't let his smile wane, though it seemed soaked in bitter and sweet in equal measure.
Shining glassy dots settled at the edge of Sam's eyes as his mouth shaped itself to words the angel's ego didn't make him miss or strain to hear. "... I love you."
They both echoed breaths that they'd yanked in, shivery and quick. Gabriel was the one to finally end it, though, to pull the curtains over Sam's needing, seeking eyes, knowing it would never be done otherwise. Then, he fought the fabric of Sam's shirt and shoved it up to feel the body warm under his hand, and as they stood together, breathed together, both their muscles shook beneath facades too fragile to hold onto.
"Gabriel ... please …"
The pain there, the aloneness that had seeped its way to Sam's marrow only to rupture up again, made the angel want to scream, to choke, to beg his departed father for a way to let him stay. Instead, though, he just closed his eyes and pressed fingers made of Heaven's purifying fire into his mortal charge and mortal lover. He listened to Sam's scream as it roared in every ear for acres, wild like the collected souls of Hell, and he wept his love, like burning blood into the wound he left behind. Then Gabriel, as he was called, an archangel, bright and bold as all his kin, shrank and broke and faded, his lightning, the last of him and brilliant gold, sparking claims across Sam's skin.