Manhattan From The Sky [1/1]
Title: Manhattan From The Sky [1/1]
Author: technicallysane
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Not even a little bit. Nope.
Rating: Hard R
Pairing: Sam/Gabriel
Word Count: 1,570
Warnings: sex? spoilers for 5.19
Summary: When Sam dreams, he dreams of Gabriel, and Gabriel's own personal hell.
Author's Note: Written for the samgabebattle round 2, and it placed first! o////o This is... I'm not sure what it is, but I liked the idea and I may expand on it one day when I'm not working 3592036818908 hours of overtime. The title is based off the song, ahaha. And I have reasons for why I named it so, but they're silly. 8D
"Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.
- Aristotle"
-
Manhattan From The Sky
-
Sam opens his eyes to bright light.
It's burning against his retinas and he groans low in his throat and twists, throws an arm over his eyes. Last thing he remembers is falling asleep on a nice warm bed in Bobby's house, Apocalypse averted, the whole fiery shebang avoided like it was nothing at all. Dean was... somewhere off with Castiel, probably, and that left Sam with not a lot to do. He rolls a little on the ground--no seriously, where is his bed? It was comfy--and tries to open his eyes again. The world is a little less bright, more... white. A pure, pristine white.
Huh.
Alright then.
"Sam."
Sam blinks his eyes wider, pushes himself up onto his elbows and raises an eyebrow at the figure standing before him. Short. Dark curly hair, beard. Grey eyes. Sam sighs a little. Chuck looks pretty spiffy in all white, but Sam knows by now that this isn't Chuck, not in the least. Maybe Chuck's chilling out somewhere in his own body, sipping at some Wild Turkey (maybe even stronger) but for now, the Father and Most High stares down at Sam with eyes that used to see everything and now see even more.
"I have a request of you, Sam," says God, and Sam lays back down and prepares for a long, deeply one-sided conversation.
-
"Limbo."
"I don't know what to tell you, Dean."
Dean shakes his head, spreads his fingers in a clear gesture of "back up for five fucking seconds, Sammy, Christ Almighty." Dean never was really all that good at taking any sort of news, good or bad. And this sort of news? Is really kind of bad. It involves lots of Winchester-level guilt and angst and really, God knew exactly what he was doing when he asked Sam to save Gabriel from... from wherever it is that he is. Which, yeah, that took some time for Sam to accept once he got over the bone-crushing sorrow that came with that news. Bad enough that Gabriel sacrificed himself for them, but finding out Gabriel's fate...
Not exactly a tea party, that.
"Sam is telling the truth," Castiel says. "There is no doubt. Not when God Himself told him it was so."
"And what the hell are we supposed to do about it?" Dean demands, like this is another hunt, another interrogation, not one of their most powerful allies trapped in a fiery pit Sam can't even begin to fathom.
"I imagine," Castiel responds, speaking to Dean even as he speaks of Sam, "that God told Sam what to do."
When the pairs of eyes land on him, Sam sort of shrugs, recalls the words God had spoken, in Chuck's voice, serene and all-knowing and just as high-pitched and twitchy.
"He told me to dream."
-
When Sam goes to bed later that night, it's with a little bit of trepidation. After all, last time he went to bed, he was visited by God. A guy doesn't bounce back from that sort of thing, you know? Still, he pulls the covers over his head and settles into the pillows. Dean seemed a little weary--you don't trust the guy that's fucked you over more times then your favorite stripper, Sammy how he'd put it, actually. But Sam... Sam didn't trust God, not really. But if it had to do with Gabriel, and had to do with getting the snarky, candy loving douchebaggy little Archangel back, then... then yeah. Sam'll do it.
So Sam closes his eyes, and dreams.
It's a lot more intense than he expects.
There's a bright shrieking ball of light not ten feet in front of him, white noise and fire and Sam presses his palms to his ears, hunches over. Christ but what is that? He can't help but feel like the ball of light is in agony, the sounds coming from it are certainly piercing enough to give that impression. He wants to scream along with it, feels wet against his hands that is probably blood dripping from his ears.
He jolts awake, but not before he hears it, a startled cry.
Sam!
-
Sam doesn't tell Dean or Castiel when he dreamed about, but Castiel looks at him like he knows.
-
The next night, things are more lucid. Not by much, but they are. He's in a field. It's not a beautiful field, but it's not desolate either. He walks around for a while, hands in his pockets. He's interested, taking it step by step. There aren't any flowers. Just grass, billowing in a light breeze. He takes a another step and is startled when a dog appears out of nowhere, runs past him barking and yipping. Sam jumps, nearly falls over in his shock.
"Jesus--"
"Sam?"
He turns, and stares.
Gabriel.
Standing wide-eyed in the middle of the field. His hair is messy, dark circles under his eyes, clothes torn, entire being haggard and tired. Sam can't believe it for a moment, that Gabriel is standing in front of him now. Suddenly he's got his arms wrapped around the Archangel, burying his face into the dip of shoulder and neck. Gabriel goes perfectly still for a moment, and then speaks. Even his voice sounds dusty.
"Jeez, kiddo, if I knew you missed me that much I'd've sent a postcard." And then arms come up and wrap around him. Gabriel squeezes him hard and Sam can almost see him standing on tiptoes to reach. Feeling Gabriel around him, in his arms, it makes him feel almost... at home.
It takes everything he has, but Sam pushes himself away, fingers curling around Gabriel's shoulders as he takes a good look at him. "Gabriel, what happened to you?" he demands.
Gabriel's lips quirk, but there's nothing really to it.
"Dunno. Got shish kabob'd on my own blade. Next thing I know I'm waking up in my own personal little hell." He gestures vaguely. "Kinda ironic."
Sam shakes his head, never keeping his eyes off Gabriel's face. There's something not right in the way he's holding himself, in the way the light in his eyes seems to have dulled out. "What do you mean?"
Gabriel smirks, but there's nothing behind it. "Used to send people into other universes, show 'em things. Now here I am, talking to my own imagination. It's ironic. Getting my just deserts, I guess. Making me see the thing I love most."
Sam wakes up before he can protest otherwise.
-
Sam finds himself going to bed earlier. Dean is suspicious, but he can't really do anything about it, and leaves it be. Castiel, as well, stares at Sam with narrowed eyes, and Sam knows that Castiel is perfectly aware of what happens lately when Sam shuts his eyes.
With a moan Gabriel jerks his hips up into Sam's fist, cock sliding wetly between Sam's fingers and Sam kisses him hard, rough, swallows the moan and gives it back. He doesn't know how this happened, doesn't know why, but it's staying with Gabriel, being with him, keeping Gabriel from going insane in his personal Hell and maybe keeping Sam from going a little crazy as well. Knowing that Gabriel still exists on some plane? Sam could never go back. Never.
Sam knows that Gabriel still thinks he's fake, a figment of his already broken imagination. This isn't the same Gabriel, but he's still there, somewhere.
"Sam, Sam--"
Sam presses his face into tight, sweaty skin, licks at the tendons in Gabriel's neck and feels him shudder, coming hard between them and bringing Sam right over the edge with him. Sam makes a sound that is totally not a whimper and falls over, grabbing the Archangel and tugging him up until he curls up on his chest.
"I'll find a way to bring you back," Sam whispers. "I will, Gabriel. I promise."
Gabriel sighs and nuzzles into Sam's neck, bring his hands up to curl loosely next to his face. He sounds tired, but his voice is filled with reverence, a deep aching love that Sam can barely comprehend. "I know you will, kiddo."
"I promise."
"I know."
Sam can't help himself-- he starts running his hands lightly through the honey strands of Gabriel's hair and Gabriel sighs again, actually smiles. Sam smiles too, because this right here? It's real. Sam knows it is. Even if it's in his head, it's perfectly fine. Sam can live with this, once a night, research during the day until he can bring Gabriel back.
"I love you." The words come from out of nowhere, and Gabriel stretches out a little like a cat, presses his face against the spot below Sam's ear.
"Love you too, kiddo. S'best Hell ever."
-
Dean raises his eyes to the ceiling of the library, where there is loud, shocked yelling, from both his brother and another very familiar, if not long-unheard voice and then turns to look at Castiel.
"Gonna explain that?"
"I imagine that my Father's plan worked," Castiel says mildly.
"...Are you gonna explain that?"
Something like a smile tugs at the corners of Castiel's mouth.
"I believe He was aiming for love. If I'm not mistaken." He looks up. "I think it has something to do with their souls being bound."
Dean, far from overacting like most probably would've expected, just rolled his eyes and said, "It's about damn time they figured that shit out."
Author: technicallysane
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Not even a little bit. Nope.
Rating: Hard R
Pairing: Sam/Gabriel
Word Count: 1,570
Warnings: sex? spoilers for 5.19
Summary: When Sam dreams, he dreams of Gabriel, and Gabriel's own personal hell.
Author's Note: Written for the samgabebattle round 2, and it placed first! o////o This is... I'm not sure what it is, but I liked the idea and I may expand on it one day when I'm not working 3592036818908 hours of overtime. The title is based off the song, ahaha. And I have reasons for why I named it so, but they're silly. 8D
"Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.
- Aristotle"
-
Manhattan From The Sky
-
Sam opens his eyes to bright light.
It's burning against his retinas and he groans low in his throat and twists, throws an arm over his eyes. Last thing he remembers is falling asleep on a nice warm bed in Bobby's house, Apocalypse averted, the whole fiery shebang avoided like it was nothing at all. Dean was... somewhere off with Castiel, probably, and that left Sam with not a lot to do. He rolls a little on the ground--no seriously, where is his bed? It was comfy--and tries to open his eyes again. The world is a little less bright, more... white. A pure, pristine white.
Huh.
Alright then.
"Sam."
Sam blinks his eyes wider, pushes himself up onto his elbows and raises an eyebrow at the figure standing before him. Short. Dark curly hair, beard. Grey eyes. Sam sighs a little. Chuck looks pretty spiffy in all white, but Sam knows by now that this isn't Chuck, not in the least. Maybe Chuck's chilling out somewhere in his own body, sipping at some Wild Turkey (maybe even stronger) but for now, the Father and Most High stares down at Sam with eyes that used to see everything and now see even more.
"I have a request of you, Sam," says God, and Sam lays back down and prepares for a long, deeply one-sided conversation.
-
"Limbo."
"I don't know what to tell you, Dean."
Dean shakes his head, spreads his fingers in a clear gesture of "back up for five fucking seconds, Sammy, Christ Almighty." Dean never was really all that good at taking any sort of news, good or bad. And this sort of news? Is really kind of bad. It involves lots of Winchester-level guilt and angst and really, God knew exactly what he was doing when he asked Sam to save Gabriel from... from wherever it is that he is. Which, yeah, that took some time for Sam to accept once he got over the bone-crushing sorrow that came with that news. Bad enough that Gabriel sacrificed himself for them, but finding out Gabriel's fate...
Not exactly a tea party, that.
"Sam is telling the truth," Castiel says. "There is no doubt. Not when God Himself told him it was so."
"And what the hell are we supposed to do about it?" Dean demands, like this is another hunt, another interrogation, not one of their most powerful allies trapped in a fiery pit Sam can't even begin to fathom.
"I imagine," Castiel responds, speaking to Dean even as he speaks of Sam, "that God told Sam what to do."
When the pairs of eyes land on him, Sam sort of shrugs, recalls the words God had spoken, in Chuck's voice, serene and all-knowing and just as high-pitched and twitchy.
"He told me to dream."
-
When Sam goes to bed later that night, it's with a little bit of trepidation. After all, last time he went to bed, he was visited by God. A guy doesn't bounce back from that sort of thing, you know? Still, he pulls the covers over his head and settles into the pillows. Dean seemed a little weary--you don't trust the guy that's fucked you over more times then your favorite stripper, Sammy how he'd put it, actually. But Sam... Sam didn't trust God, not really. But if it had to do with Gabriel, and had to do with getting the snarky, candy loving douchebaggy little Archangel back, then... then yeah. Sam'll do it.
So Sam closes his eyes, and dreams.
It's a lot more intense than he expects.
There's a bright shrieking ball of light not ten feet in front of him, white noise and fire and Sam presses his palms to his ears, hunches over. Christ but what is that? He can't help but feel like the ball of light is in agony, the sounds coming from it are certainly piercing enough to give that impression. He wants to scream along with it, feels wet against his hands that is probably blood dripping from his ears.
He jolts awake, but not before he hears it, a startled cry.
Sam!
-
Sam doesn't tell Dean or Castiel when he dreamed about, but Castiel looks at him like he knows.
-
The next night, things are more lucid. Not by much, but they are. He's in a field. It's not a beautiful field, but it's not desolate either. He walks around for a while, hands in his pockets. He's interested, taking it step by step. There aren't any flowers. Just grass, billowing in a light breeze. He takes a another step and is startled when a dog appears out of nowhere, runs past him barking and yipping. Sam jumps, nearly falls over in his shock.
"Jesus--"
"Sam?"
He turns, and stares.
Gabriel.
Standing wide-eyed in the middle of the field. His hair is messy, dark circles under his eyes, clothes torn, entire being haggard and tired. Sam can't believe it for a moment, that Gabriel is standing in front of him now. Suddenly he's got his arms wrapped around the Archangel, burying his face into the dip of shoulder and neck. Gabriel goes perfectly still for a moment, and then speaks. Even his voice sounds dusty.
"Jeez, kiddo, if I knew you missed me that much I'd've sent a postcard." And then arms come up and wrap around him. Gabriel squeezes him hard and Sam can almost see him standing on tiptoes to reach. Feeling Gabriel around him, in his arms, it makes him feel almost... at home.
It takes everything he has, but Sam pushes himself away, fingers curling around Gabriel's shoulders as he takes a good look at him. "Gabriel, what happened to you?" he demands.
Gabriel's lips quirk, but there's nothing really to it.
"Dunno. Got shish kabob'd on my own blade. Next thing I know I'm waking up in my own personal little hell." He gestures vaguely. "Kinda ironic."
Sam shakes his head, never keeping his eyes off Gabriel's face. There's something not right in the way he's holding himself, in the way the light in his eyes seems to have dulled out. "What do you mean?"
Gabriel smirks, but there's nothing behind it. "Used to send people into other universes, show 'em things. Now here I am, talking to my own imagination. It's ironic. Getting my just deserts, I guess. Making me see the thing I love most."
Sam wakes up before he can protest otherwise.
-
Sam finds himself going to bed earlier. Dean is suspicious, but he can't really do anything about it, and leaves it be. Castiel, as well, stares at Sam with narrowed eyes, and Sam knows that Castiel is perfectly aware of what happens lately when Sam shuts his eyes.
With a moan Gabriel jerks his hips up into Sam's fist, cock sliding wetly between Sam's fingers and Sam kisses him hard, rough, swallows the moan and gives it back. He doesn't know how this happened, doesn't know why, but it's staying with Gabriel, being with him, keeping Gabriel from going insane in his personal Hell and maybe keeping Sam from going a little crazy as well. Knowing that Gabriel still exists on some plane? Sam could never go back. Never.
Sam knows that Gabriel still thinks he's fake, a figment of his already broken imagination. This isn't the same Gabriel, but he's still there, somewhere.
"Sam, Sam--"
Sam presses his face into tight, sweaty skin, licks at the tendons in Gabriel's neck and feels him shudder, coming hard between them and bringing Sam right over the edge with him. Sam makes a sound that is totally not a whimper and falls over, grabbing the Archangel and tugging him up until he curls up on his chest.
"I'll find a way to bring you back," Sam whispers. "I will, Gabriel. I promise."
Gabriel sighs and nuzzles into Sam's neck, bring his hands up to curl loosely next to his face. He sounds tired, but his voice is filled with reverence, a deep aching love that Sam can barely comprehend. "I know you will, kiddo."
"I promise."
"I know."
Sam can't help himself-- he starts running his hands lightly through the honey strands of Gabriel's hair and Gabriel sighs again, actually smiles. Sam smiles too, because this right here? It's real. Sam knows it is. Even if it's in his head, it's perfectly fine. Sam can live with this, once a night, research during the day until he can bring Gabriel back.
"I love you." The words come from out of nowhere, and Gabriel stretches out a little like a cat, presses his face against the spot below Sam's ear.
"Love you too, kiddo. S'best Hell ever."
-
Dean raises his eyes to the ceiling of the library, where there is loud, shocked yelling, from both his brother and another very familiar, if not long-unheard voice and then turns to look at Castiel.
"Gonna explain that?"
"I imagine that my Father's plan worked," Castiel says mildly.
"...Are you gonna explain that?"
Something like a smile tugs at the corners of Castiel's mouth.
"I believe He was aiming for love. If I'm not mistaken." He looks up. "I think it has something to do with their souls being bound."
Dean, far from overacting like most probably would've expected, just rolled his eyes and said, "It's about damn time they figured that shit out."