fic: A Heart's True Haven 2/2 - sabriel_mini
Masterpost | Part 1
Dean’s still gone when he comes out, unsurprisingly. Without anything pressing to take care of now that they’ve finished this hunt, Sam doesn’t pull on more than some clean boxers and an old tee. He lays down for lack of anything better to do, still tired even after Gabriel healed his injuries, and Sam’s left alone with only his thoughts. He hates feeling like this, like he’s alone even when he’s got a brother who doesn’t hate him and friends he would give his life for and is sure would give their lives for him. It’s remarkably similar to how he’d felt back before Gabriel joined them, only without the added weight of Dean’s distrust on top of it and he suddenly wishes he had his friend back.
Before he’s even finished the thought, a dim flash of light in the corner of his eye catches his attention and Sam sits up. Golden light emanates from the duffle between their beds and Sam reaches for it, brows crinkling in a combination of confusion and curiosity. It isn’t until his hand comes into contact with something smooth and warm that he realizes it’s the compass. He still can’t believe he managed to forget to ask Castiel about it, but there’s nothing he can do about that now. His brother and Cas are still wherever it is they disappear to when they want time alone together and Sam knows from experience not to bug them unless it’s an emergency and the familiarity he feels when holding this trinket, so unlike the feelings he’s gotten whenever he’s come into contact with cursed or dangerous items, tells him this doesn’t count.
The trumpet-shaped arrow - he can’t help but be reminded of Gabriel when he looks at it and he ignores the way the warmth against his palm reminds him of Gabriel’s touch as the Archangel healed his shoulder - spins fast, no longer going in the lazy circles of that morning, and he watches in wonder as it stops, pointing in the direction of the door.
He’s up and off the bed, pulling on a clean pair of jeans and over shirt before grabbing his hoodie. In seconds Sam is ready to go, boots on, and he scribbles a note saying he’s going out - just in case his brother comes back sometime before tomorrow, though he doubts it - before grabbing his room key and rushing out the door.
Once outside, the arrow spins again before pointing ahead and to the left and that’s all the encouragement Sam needs to follow its directions further into the city. He doesn’t stop - apart from the few times the arrow directs him across streets - until he’s looking up the driveway of a white, two story house that shines in the afternoon light. It has large windows on both levels, curtains pulled to the side like whoever lives in it wants as much of the afternoon’s bright rays to get into the house as possible. The driveway is empty of cars out front, though he wouldn’t be surprised to see some expensive vehicle hidden away in the garage, something that matches the rich feeling of this almost-mansion. It’s like something out of his dreams back when he was a teenager and always planned to get out of the family business and build a normal life for himself and he doesn’t deny the odd pull he feels to walk the rest of the way up the driveway until he reaches the door, glancing through the front window automatically.
Gabriel leans up and smiles against the warm lips pressed against his own. "Heya, Sammy," he breathes as he pulls back, looking up into twinkling hazel eyes. They’re almost perfect, the shade just right and the differences would be unnoticeable to any human - even Dean who knows everything about his brother.
But the soul underneath is wrong. It’s not real, just a copy that Gabriel wove himself to make this nearly perfect imitation come alive. It still glows as brightly as Sam’s soul, the same fire and spark lighting it within, but it’s not as familiar. Nowhere near as old as the soul that calls to the Archangel now, and has for longer than he cares to think about.
A long arm wraps over his shoulders and Gabriel chuckles but goes willingly when he’s dragged across the room until they’re standing in the kitchen they don’t need but his Sam insists they use. "What are you up to, Sasquatch?"
The dimpled grin he receives in response is impossible not to match - in width at least; Gabriel’s vessel is sorely lacking in dimples - and it only grows when Sam leans down to steal another kiss. Then he’s off, grabbing a box from the cupboard above the bright white microwave on the large granite counter.
"You know what we’re going to do today?"
Gabriel shakes his head, legs dangling above the ground when he hops onto the island counter behind Sam. He watches his human pop something into the microwave. "No, but I get the feeling you’re going to tell me."
"You’d be right about that." Sam laughs, turning and shimmying his way between Gabriel’s legs. Warm hands grip his hips and the Archangel raises an eyebrow in anticipation. "Why don’t you enlighten me?"
"We are going to sprawl out over the couch and watch bad movies all afternoon. Maybe even all night."
"We are, are we?"
Sam nods before practically bouncing to the microwave and grabbing what Gabriel finally recognizes as a bag of popcorn when the machine beeps shrilly. "Now I see why you dragged me into this ridiculous room," he teases, laughing when Sam rolls his eyes.
"Be nice. If you don’t behave, I won’t tell you where I hid the batch of fresh brownies I made today in this ‘ridiculous room’."
In a blink, Gabriel is lying lengthwise across the couch. "What are you waiting for slowpoke? We’ve got bad movies to watch!"
"Cheater!" comes Sam’s call from behind, but soon enough the man is shoving his way onto the couch, laying in front of Gabriel until his back is firmly aligned with Gabriel’s chest.
In moments like these, with his arms wrapped tightly around this warm body, it’s easier to pretend this is enough for him.
Sam blinks, which takes more effort than usual with his eyes bugged as wide open as they are. The compass thrums in his hand, still glowing a bright gold that doesn’t manage to reflect on anything around it. His heart races in his chest, quick thumpthumpthump pounding in his ears as he watches, unseen, the scene before him.
He doesn’t think he’s seen Gabriel smile like that - genuine - since they realized the Apocalypse was derailed. Maybe not even then.
Which is not what he should be focusing on at all.
But Sam doesn’t know what to think. Gabriel is apparently spending his free time in a large house that’s practically taken straight from one of Sam’s dreams with some sort of Sam clone. He’s always assumed that if, and when, Gabriel snapped people into existence - outside of doling just desserts - they would end up doing something more... NC-17. The Archangel’s own personal Casa Erotica. Not laying together on a couch - that’s large enough for both of them - and watching a flat screen television like there isn’t a care in the world. Like he hadn’t just helped them kill dozens of demons.
Neither of the house’s inhabitant notice him standing outside the window and Sam figures they won’t notice him leave, either. With one last wide-eyed look at the pair, Sam turns and walks away, ignoring the sun in his eyes and the painful tug in his chest, the compass’ thrumming easing in intensity with each step that puts more distance between himself and that house.
Gabriel catches movement outside the window and he slides his eyes lazily over to see what is interrupting his movie-time, freezing when he sees the silhouette - a very large, very familiar silhouette - of a man walking quickly away from the house.
Sam had found him. He doesn’t know how, though he probably shouldn’t be surprised considering the brothers managed to end up in the city Gabriel’s haven had materialized itself this time around. Just large and populated enough that it has all the shops Sam might need but still as comfortable as the small towns they drive through all year. Exactly the type of town the haven’s mortal inhabitant would choose if he was settling down.
But Sam had seen him. Seen them. Lounging together on the couch watching B-movies with a bowl of popcorn sitting on the coffee table in front of them, a smear of greasy butter streaked across his Sam’s cheek from when he’d tried to steal the popcorn away from Gabriel a few minutes earlier. And the real deal had walked right up to the house and looked in the window and is walking back to the poor excuse for a motel the boys are staying at this time. He might not tell Dean what he’d seen, but how are they going to get past this? It’s not as though the human can unsee it, not like Gabriel can change that because even though he has the ability to take memories away, there’s no way he could bring himself to use it on anyone in their group. His new family. Especially not Sam; Sam with his history of being jerked around and manipulated by everyone he seemed to come into contact with.
He doesn’t know how to handle any of this, so instead of dealing with it head-on, Gabriel decides to do what he does best. Ignore it now and deal with it later. He tries to relax and turn his attention back to the movie. Of course, his Sam is a copy of the real Sam - which means observant to the nth degree - and knows something’s up within seconds.
Curious hazel eyes look up at him from the spot on his shoulder Sam has claimed as his pillow.
"What’s up, babe?" he asks before following Gabriel’s gaze to the window - because apparently Gabriel hasn’t been as successful at keeping his attention on the television as he’d hoped. Sam looks back at him, knowing glint in his eyes, and sits up straight, taking his head off Gabriel’s shoulder to turn and look at him head on.
"S’nothing. Just thought I saw something..."
"Uh huh. And since when does ‘nothing’ leave you looking like a deer caught in the headlights?"
When he doesn’t say anything Sam continues softly, "It was him, wasn’t it?"
Frozen for the second time in a matter of minutes, Gabriel wonders how Sam, even a copy of the original, is one of the few beings in existence that can drive him to speechlessness. When he turns wide eyes on Sam, the human just smiles fondly and shakes his head in exasperation. "So what are you still doing here, you idiot?" he asks affectionately, no heat behind the words.
Gabriel blinks. "What?"
Sam rolls his eyes fondly, a ‘what am I going to do with you?’ expression if Gabriel ever saw one. "I said, what are you still doing here?" he repeats slowly and Gabriel would scoff at his human treating an Archangel-slash-Pagan Demi-God like a five year old but concedes that it’s probably necessary in this instance. He’ll let Sam get away with it. Just this once.
"What does it look like I’m doing, Sasquatch?" he finally answers, hiding behind the Trickster-façade he’s perfected over the centuries. The look in Sam’s eyes tells him the man knows just what he’s doing.
"Letting the love of your life - put your eyebrow down before your face sticks that way, it’s the truth and you know it - walk away without even trying to go after him and get the real thing over the imitation you’ve been living with for... far too long."
"I dunno," Gabriel leers, pushing Sam’s hair back behind his ear, "The imitation is just as good." Sam leans into the touch and returns it, placing one of his hands on Gabriel’s shoulder with a small shake of his head.
"It’s not and you know it isn’t. I know it’s hard, that something’s holding you back. But did you ever stop to think maybe Sam needs you to go after him just as much as you need to go after Sam?" His hand slides up from Gabriel’s shoulder to cup his cheek, thumb rubbing lightly just under his eye and Gabriel sighs, a little sadly, knowing the man in front of him is right. Hiding away in his haven is cowardly and he’s been a coward enough for all his lifetimes and more.
"How are you so perfect?" Gabriel can’t help but ask, tilting his face into the warm hand that’s so large on his cheek.
Sam shakes his head with a small smile. "I’m anything but perfect, but you knew that when you made me. Now go after him, duke it out, whatever. I’ll still be here if it somehow doesn’t work out."
Then the hand slips from his face and Sam urges him to stand with a nod, tilting his chin up. With a sigh, Gabriel stands, reminding himself of all the times he’s gotten through rejection in the past - most recently with the real Sam when he’d last kissed the human for real.
Just as he’s about to snap away, walls building inside him against whatever he’s flying into, Sam wraps his fingers around his wrist and looks up at him from where the man is still sitting on the oversized couch. "It will work out."
"Oh yeah, how can you be so sure?"
Sam shrugs, lips twitching up in a small smile at the corners as he lets go of Gabriel’s arm. “Just because you snapped me up doesn’t mean I don’t know how the real Sam thinks. I know I don’t act like him, that I’m not really him. But I know him better than you think and he’ll listen to what you have to say. You’re not the only one feeling a little insecure.” Then Sam winks and Gabriel takes that as his cue to leave.
With a heavy sigh, Sam sits on the lumpy couch in their motel room, compass clutched tightly between shaking fingers as he tries desperately to think over what he’d seen and how it makes him feel. The room suddenly feels too small, cramped, but he has nowhere else to go. He’d practically sprinted the rest of the way back to the motel and didn’t know whether he was upset or grateful that Dean was still gone, would be for the rest of the day and into the morning. Now he has the room to himself and it’s almost too much.
He’d wanted to be the one sitting next to Gabriel, sharing that carefree moment in time without the stress of hunting and his past weighing down on him. Sam hadn’t let himself dwell on just how badly he wanted to be with the Archangel because when Gabriel had kissed him, it wasn’t more than wanting to pass the time. Couldn’t have been more than that because Gabriel doesn’t do relationships and Sam’s learned that he can’t handle sex without becoming emotionally attached. Not if he’s being honest with himself - something he’s been trying to be more of since they’d saved the world and he refuses to become anyone else’s pawn ever again.
Getting up, Sam hurries over and grabs his laptop from its case before reclaiming his spot on the sofa and starting up the computer. They don’t have any more hunts lined up but Sam needs a distraction and the crappy little TV in front of him doesn’t look promising. The laptop is just booting up, the shrill almost-melody blaring from the speakers, when he hears a faint rustling and feels the weight of eyes on the back of his head.
Gabriel showing up is the last thing Sam needs to deal with. How is he supposed to act around the Archangel when he still isn’t sure himself how he feels about what he’d seen? Beyond the fact that he wishes it could have been him sharing the house and the couch and the laughter. But there’s nothing he can do about it now because the Archangel is there.
"Hey Gabriel," Sam says, unsurprised to find his voice slightly uneven, though thankfully it doesn’t crack the way he’d feared. He eases back in his seat, the fingers on his right hand twitching over his laptop while his left hand wraps tightly around the compass that’s started thrumming again, lazy spin slowing until it’s pointed somewhere behind him, glowing with unnatural warmth against his palm.
The Archangel doesn’t answer right away and just as Sam is preparing to turn around, ask what’s wrong - because what could possibly be wrong, the angel obviously has everything he wants - when a brush of fingers at the back of his neck leaves him frozen. He finds himself turning into it, just barely, when his hair is pushed gently back. It’s been so long since he’s felt a touch that soft, not even Ruby had managed to pretend that well - though it was still good enough to fool him. A shiver runs down his spine before he can help it, soft breathy sound rushing past his lips and Sam doesn’t know what’s going on; just that this needs to stop before it goes any further because this isn’t supposed to be happening.
Gabriel lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding - not that he needs to breath, but still - when Sam pushes back into his fingers and shivers at his touch. The reaction is a lot more promising than he’d been expecting - than he’d prepared himself for - and his confidence rises from dismal to somewhere closer to moderate. Maybe the other Sam had known what he was talking about. Not that Gabriel plans on giving either Sams the satisfaction of knowing when they were right about anything - he’s as bad as his big brother; another thing he never plans on mentioning to the gigantor.
Suddenly Sam’s pulling away and Gabriel lets his hand fall back to his side, unsurprised. He’d heard Sam’s heart speed up at the touch and remembered the other Sam’s words. The real Sam may be willing to hear him out, but there are issues to deal with before they can get there.
Sam sits up ramrod straight in what could pass for an impressive impersonation of Castiel any other time. Gabriel walks around until he’s standing in front of the human who somehow managed to look small and curled over even when in such a rigid position. It isn’t a look he likes to see on the littlest Winchester, as though the weight of the world is still somehow on his shoulders even after all he’s done for that world already. Sam avoids looking him in the eyes, gaze closer to his shoulder, and Gabriel wants to feel those eyes on him the way he’s been spoiled with by his imitation of Sam Winchester. Glittering brightly with mirth and, if not love, then at least something positive instead of this nervousness.
He takes a deep unneeded breath, preparing himself for the conversation to come - the one he knows he has to initiate - and focuses all of his attention on Sam. Leaning forward, Gabriel reaches a hand out and places it on Sam’s shoulder, feeling the man’s body tense at the touch in a reaction completely opposite to just moments ago. Had he been human, goosebumps would have travelled up his arms at the contact and Gabriel gently squeezes his fingers, rubbing small circles to get Sam to look up at him. Finally, confused hazel eyes - closer to blue tonight than Gabriel has seen them before, though he isn’t sure whether it’s reflecting Sam’s mood or the Dad-awful sea-green wallpaper of the Winchester’s latest motel room - peer up at him. The caught, almost-scared look reflects every emotion Gabriel feels swirling within himself and it goes a long way to easing the fear of rejection he’s been harboring for so long. He knows this is worth it, that the possibility of being with Sam after all they’ve been through is well worth the chance that Sam might still be opposed to it. But first he needs to make Sam understand that he thinks they should be together. That this is more, means more, than anything else ever has to Gabriel.
"You know, I meant what I said that day."
Sam’s obviously not expecting what Gabriel says, eyebrows pulling down as he frowns in confusion.
"You didn’t think I was being serious about liking you, about wanting to be with you. Maybe you thought it was a prank or - "
Understanding lights in Sam’s eyes, frown lines smoothing out as his eyebrows lift slowly from their turned down position. Sam starts shaking his head, blinking quickly like he’s trying to make sense of what’s being said. Then he stops, interrupting Gabriel as he looks up at the Archangel with narrowed eyes. "You don’t do relationships."
It’s Gabriel’s turn to blink, and he does, once, because where had Sam gotten that idea? The words are truer than the hunter could realize, though not at all how Sam meant them, Gabriel is sure. There is a reason Gabriel doesn’t do relationships. He can’t. He could only do relationship. One, singular. And the one he wants that relationship with is now the only thing standing in the way of what they could have together. Poetic, almost. Something Gabriel - the Trickster - would have appreciated back in the day.
But he knows for a fact that Sam remembers Kali - Goddess was all hands and passion but still nothing compared to the, apparently clueless, hunter before him - and he wouldn’t put it past, as Dean had so affectionately named the littlest Winchester, the walking dictionary of weirdness to have looked up Trickster mythology after their previous encounters. Where did he come up with the conclusion that Gabriel doesn’t have relationships?
"Come again?" Gabriel asks, just barely getting a word in before Sam continues, talking quickly like he doesn’t know how to stop now that he’s gotten started.
"You don’t do relationships, Gabriel. And, I mean, that’s fine. For you. You can have your flings and cre-" he pauses, just slightly before continuing, "create whatever playmates you want and it doesn’t have to mean anything but I can’t do that. I’ve tried, but I’m not programmed that way because it doesn’t work for me. It’s not me. Not what I need and I just couldn’t... Couldn’t be another fling."
As though it’s somehow possible that Sam could ever be just a fling.
Sam’s eyes follow Gabriel’s movement as the Archangel sits down beside him, laptop disappearing from its spot with barely a thought. Gabriel slides his hand slowly from the man’s shoulder to cup the back of his neck and before Sam has the chance to protest Gabriel leans in to press a chaste kiss to slightly parted lips. It’s barely a peck and doesn’t last nearly long enough - nothing could ever be long enough with Sam short of eternity - but he doesn’t want to scare the human off. Gabriel sits back, still keeping his hand on Sam’s neck. "Listen Winchester - and listen well, I’ve never been a fan of having to repeat myself so I’m only gonna say this once. I love you, kiddo. I tried to ease you into it, but have you ever tried to get anything through that Cro-Magnon skull of yours? It’s not easy. Believe it or not, it’s true. You’re the one I’m meant for. I’d say ‘you complete me’ but that’s not my style. But that doesn’t make it any less true. So, there is it. What say you?"
He puts as much sincerity behind the words as possible, but can’t help adding his own personal flair. Sam has to know what he’s getting into, after all, and there is no getting rid of the Trickster in him. But Gabriel meant every word and he needs Sam to hear him, really hear him because there is no way he’s going to let Sam turn him away thinking the Archangel considers him nothing more than a potential fuck-buddy. Gabriel’s eyes are drawn to the man’s tongue as Sam licks his lips, what looks more automatic than intentional.
"You..." Sam starts hesitantly, his voice quiet and small in a way it rarely is, but filled with what Gabriel thinks might even be burgeoning hope and belief, "You love me?"
"What did I say about repeating myself, kiddo?" Gabriel says with an exasperated roll of his eyes, but nods seriously when he meets Sam’s eyes again.
He’s rewarded with a small smile, Sam’s lips stretching up slowly. It isn’t the wide grin he always longs to witness, but it’s a start. And it’s better than the confused frown the human had been sporting just moments before. Gabriel lifts his hand off of Sam’s neck to brush a wayward lock of hair behind Sam’s ear, fingers tangling in it loosely when the hunter doesn’t move to pull away but rather pushes into the press of fingers against his scalp.
"I saw you with..." Sam trails off, but still doesn’t pull away and the Archangel takes that as a sign that his not-Sam was right and this really can work out.
"I know." Hazel eyes widen in surprise and Gabriel smirks playfully. "But do you really think I’d magic up my own yeti if I didn’t want it - you - us to be real? Gimme some credit, Sammy. I’d have preferred someone more on my level if that was the case."
It gets the response he’s hoping for; Sam throws his head back and laughs. Sam’s hand lands unthinkingly on his thigh, long fingers wrapping around it much like they’d held his ankle before and Gabriel’s grace swells all over again, only this time he feels the answering swell of grace hidden in Sam’s soul as the human opens up to their bond without even realizing it. His smirk melts away until he’s grinning wider than he had even with his imitation of the hunter beside him. When Sam finally lowers his head, cheeks flushed and eyes bright, the corners crinkling with the force of his smile, he chuckles out breathlessly, "Your level, Gabriel? What? You mean like pixie size?"
Unable to even fake indignation, Gabriel wonders over how much brighter Sam’s soul shines behind his eyes and doesn’t try to stop himself from leaning forward and stifling the incessant giggling still coming out of his human’s mouth with a kiss decidedly less chaste than before. Laughter morphs into a startled moan that Gabriel swallows down as he licks his way into Sam’s mouth. Then Sam rushes forward, tangling both hands into Gabriel’s hair, a dull thunk going unnoticed as the Archangel decides he wants to feel Sam’s hands in his hair as often as he wants to run his own through Sam’s.
They both pull away, Gabriel’s eyes drawn to pink, spit slick lips that he can’t wait to feel against every part of his body. He watches in a daze as Sam sucks air into oxygen deprived lungs, content to stay this close to Sam forever, until something bright catches his attention. On the floor beside the couch is a trinket of some sort, glow dimming from the flare it flashed when their lips had touched.
Curious, Gabriel tilts his head. Feeling the hunter’s eyes on him, he leans down and reaches for it, silently despairing the way Sam’s hands slip out of his hair. "Where did you get this, Sammy?"
Sam looks down at the compass now in the Archangel’s hand. His breathing is back to normal and the glassy look in his eyes disappears as he readjusts his focus, shrugging. "It was in my duffel this morning."
Sitting back, Gabriel holds the compass between his fingers.
"Why?" Sam asks quietly, leaning almost infinitesimally closer to Gabriel that he doesn’t think he’d notice were he human. "Do you know what it is? I was gonna try and ask Cas about it today but didn’t get the chance before he took Dean and flew off after the case."
The Archangel almost snorts, because of course he knows what it is. Not that he could truly expect Sam to know, especially when he’s had no time to research yet - though there probably isn’t much to find about it.
There is no way Sam could have gotten ahold of the compass on his own, especially without any knowledge of what it is, where it points. The arrow - a trumpet, his symbol - points straight at Sam and he feels the way Sam looks between it and him, confusion pouring off his human in waves. So the question is: how did Sam manage to find it in his possession?
The answer comes to him almost immediately. Dean wouldn’t have had any way of finding the trinket at all, even if he’d known what he was looking for. But Castiel could. Castiel, who’s been watching Gabriel so closely lately, was cataloguing each of his arrivals and departures and reactions to Sam. He isn’t surprised that his brother knows what Sam is to him, what they could mean to each other. But that doesn’t give him an excuse to meddle - even if it has worked out. Nosey little brothers.
"Castiel, get your butt down here." Gabriel pauses, ignoring the confusion plain on Sam’s face while he waits for a response. "Now."
Wing beats sound through the room and a moment later Castiel is standing across from them. Blue eyes widen almost imperceptibly, probably at the close proximity between Gabriel and his mate - who has yet to know that that lovely little title. Finally they land on the compass in Gabriel’s hands and the Archangel lifts it up with a flourish, nearly tempted to say ‘ta da’ with the movement. "Any idea how this came to be in little Sammy’s possession?"
Lips tightening, Sam gives Gabriel a withering glare at the nickname, shoving him with a broad shoulder, but looks at Castiel in interest. Castiel gazes intently at the floor, eyebrows pulling down as he looks away guiltily.
"Why did you give me this, Cas?" Sam asks, attention focused solely on the trench-coat clad angel standing across from them. Gabriel’s little brother shifts on his feet, body just barely swaying with the movement, as he tries to find the words to explain. Then he’s standing straight and holding his ground as though he’s about to go to battle. Gabriel doesn’t blame him; if Sam had reacted any differently to Gabriel’s confession, then Castiel’s meddling would earn nothing short of an explosion.
"You wanted to know where Gabriel went when he left you between hunts," Castiel starts in his gruff voice. Gabriel looks to Sam in surprise to find a slight blush rising in his cheeks at Castiel’s admission. "You were curious even after I’d explained our havens to you." Gabriel shot his brother an incredulous glare - he’s more than happy that Sam hasn’t turned him away after finding their haven, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t miffed over Castiel sharing something so private, even if it was with Sam. "I merely gave you the means to find it on your own."
"I thought only certain people are allowed into an angel’s haven?" Sam asks, back in his default mode: researcher geek. Gabriel would roll his eyes if he wasn’t so nervous about Sam’s reaction to whatever Castiel says next.
"That’s true. And under normal circumstances, humans shouldn’t even be able to see an angel’s haven let alone the compass that guided you there - "
"But you Winchesters always gotta find a way around the rules, don’t you?" Gabriel interjects with a smirk, ruffling Sam’s hair and doing an inner - completely un-Archangel-like - fist pump when Sam bats his hands away absently with a small smile on his face. His brother looks entirely too smug at the display but Gabriel figures none of this would be happening if it wasn’t for Castiel so he’ll let it slide for now.
"So," Sam starts, giving Gabriel a pointed look that clearly states that Gabriel better quit trying to mess up his oh-so-stylish do or else, "how come I was able to use the compass? It led me straight through town, right to the door. And, I mean, it pointed at Gabriel when he flew in here and at me when he picked it up."
Bright blue eyes focus on Gabriel with the intensity of a high powered laser and the Archangel rolls his eyes inwardly, wondering whether it’s Sam’s influence or if that is just the effect his brother has on him. But he knows he should be the one to drop this gem.
"The only ones who can see a haven’s guide and the haven itself are the few who can enter it. And even with a few select angels, like little brothers," he casts a meaningful glance to the brother he’s become the closest to in millennia through the Apocalypse, "that’s a short list. Only one person, or being, or whatever who isn’t immediate family can enter an angel’s haven."
Gabriel forces himself to meet Sam’s intrigued gaze. "Mates, Sam. That angel’s mate is the only other being allowed to find their haven. Because it’s meant to be shared."
Sam eyes widen, mouth dropping into an ‘o’ in surprise and Gabriel braces himself for the explosion. One he is more than prepared to deal with.
And one that never comes. What comes out of Sam’s mouth causes the Archangel to blink in confusion, even though he understands the words perfectly.
"Guess that explains the couch, hell the living room that seemed like it was ripped straight from my dreams, huh?"
Gabriel sits in shock, vaguely aware of Sam’s fingertips tickling down his arm until their hands meet, fingers curling together like two pieces of a puzzle, before finally stuttering out, "A haven is made up of bits and pieces from both of its inhabitants’ wants and needs so they never have to worry about anything while they’re there. Just another way it’s made to feel safe."
"So what does the engraving on the back of the... guide mean? I thought it looked like enochian, but I haven’t actually memorized it all, you know?"
Gabriel looks down at the compass in his free hand, eyes darting to where his and Sam’s are connected, and takes in the engraving. "S and G."
"For our names?" Sam’s eyes are big and his soul is still shining brightly, even moreso when Gabriel nods. "Yup."
"So, this haven. Does it have a big kitchen?"
A startled laugh rumbles through Gabriel’s throat and he shakes his head incredulously at this forever unpredictable human, all the tension he’d built over Sam’s reaction melting away in the face of Sam’s easy acceptance. Then the question sinks in and he rolls his eyes, "Yes, Sam. Though honestly, I don’t think we’ll have much need for anything but a certain room for awhile. I hear a king sized bed calling us, Sammy, and it would be rude to ignore it when it’s been so lonely for so long."
A deep blush floods Sam’s face and neck - probably because they aren’t alone in the room, though Gabriel isn’t fazed by his brother’s presence - but his eyes darken, pupils already growing and his hand tightens over Gabriel’s.
Throwing a wink in Castiel’s direction, Gabriel smirks, "Don’t wait up, bro."
And with a snap, they’re gone.
END
Notes/Acknowledgments