archangelgabriellives:

13×20 Unfinished Business Coda.

~1100 words

Hey, did anyone order some angst?

~~~~

Gabriel hated this.

Really and truly hated this.

He glanced up to the clock hanging on the wall, its ticking excruciatingly slow and too loud for the room.

He let out a choked sob.

“Ten minutes.”

It had felt like it had been hours since Sam and Dean left him, handcuffed to the grated partition.

Dean tossed the handcuffs to Gabriel, who caught them on reflex. They were cold in his hands, the metal chain softly clinking together. He stared down at them, barely hidden fear in his eyes.

“Put ‘em on,” the hunter commanded, his voice deep and terrible.

Gabriels head whipped up, and he glared hard at Dean.

“Excuse me?” he growled, not noticing the look of surprise on Sam’s face where he stood next to him.

“We need to go clean up your mess. Can’t have anyone finding the rotting corpse of a Norse Demigod in a shitty hotel room. And I don’t trust you not to run off again. Now,” Dean advanced on Gabriel, his footsteps heavy and slow. He towered over Gabriel, brows pinched in anger. “Put. Them. On.” Dean leaned down a little closer, almost close enough for his nose to touch. Through his pounding heartbeat and the clenching dread in his chest, Gabriel kept his chin high, not backing down as the human advanced. “Boy.”

A flash of Asmodeus flickered over Dean, like a phantom, and Gabriel reeled back a few steps. He didn’t, wouldn’t, drop his mask. Not in front of them. Never show weakness, not anymore, he thought.

He looked to Sam, there was sympathy there, but still…

“Alright, Dean. Geez, don’t get your pink panties in a twist.”

Gabriel focused on his breathing. In and out, in and out. The cold metal cuff was on his wrist, pushed down and clicked in place, and Gabriel couldn’t stop a small whimper from escaping when he realized that it was his own hand that put it there.

Sam flinched, Gabriel saw it, but he didn’t protest.

Dean smirked, a wicked looking thing, when he was sure Sam couldn’t see it. “There, see,” Dean’s voice calm and light despite the frightful sneer, “not so bad, right?” He snatched the other cuff roughly, tugged a little too quick on it to pull Gabriel over to the iron bars and slam it in place with practiced ease. “Now, I need you to snap big and ugly there” he pointed to Narfi, dead on the floor, “into the trunk of my car.”

“Dean…” Sam muttered.

“It’s fine, Sam.” Gabriel was surprised he was able to talk at all. “It’s fine.” He raised a hand, snapped his trembling fingers, and the Demigod vanished, wrapped in blankets in Baby’s trunk.

Dean sauntered away to pick up his coat and tossed Sams to his brother. “Yeah, he’s fine. Let’s go, Sam.” The already broken door swung open, banging the handle against the cracked drywall. The sound echoed in Gabriels mind, the slam of a cage door slamming shut. “We’ll be back in an hour.”

Sam was frozen in place, torn between leaving and staying. He opened his mouth to say something.

“Sam!” Deans voice called from the hall.

Sam waffled, looking back and forth from the door to Gabriel.

“Well, go,” Gabriel gestured to the door, “the princess can’t do anything without you.” He thinks he smiled, tried to convey a calm exterior.

With an uncomfortable shift of his feet and a tight frown, Sam turns for the hall. “Sorry,” he whispered, and pulled the door closed behind him.

And now Gabriel sat here, his body curled up in itself, as he counted the ticking seconds of the clock. He rocked slightly, his free hand fisted in his hair.

“It’s ok, you’re ok. It’s ok, you’re ok.”

He repeated it, his mantra, over and over.

Every sound that he heard caused him to flinch. Other guests at the motel, who did nothing about the loud fight that took place minutes ago, returned to their menial days. The murmurs of the reminded him of the fickle and incompetent demons that used to guard him. And being so low on Grace, Gabriel couldn’t reach out and check if they were demons in hiding, following him and waiting for a chance to take him back to his cramped cage. A chance like this.

Gabriel grunted in fear, clenched his teeth and seethed.

“It’s ok, you’re ok. It’s ok, you’re ok.”

A child laughed as they skipped past his door. To Gabriel, the sound was sinister and diabolical. The melody of something that should have been so pure to him was now so tainted. He tried to rouse a memory of Heaven, the fledgling angels laughing as Gabriel tossed them in the air when they were ready to learn how to fly.

But the faces were all wrong, distorted. What should be soft white feathers were bare and leathery, delicate eyes that should sparkle with Grace turned black and red.

“It’s ok, you’re ok. It’s ok, you’re ok.”

His voice was cracking, and tears were trailing down his cheeks. The hand in his hair tightened. His legs bounced and trembled with nervous energy.

Heavy footsteps fell in the hall, loud and purposeful.

Gabriel froze.

He sat up straight, listening. A flash of that ugly white suit strutting down the corridor caused his breath to quicken. Was he even free? Was this all a trick?

Never show weakness

He wiped the wetness from his face, gasping at the familiar white fabric. When did they replace the dirty oversized shirt he had to wear in hell?

The steps got closer. He could practically hear that smug assholes vile laughter. Gabriel stood, pulled on the cuffs to make his escape, but he was still there. He grabbed the grate, tried to pull it out of the wall, but was only reminded of the feel of cold steel under his dirty and broken fingers.

“No!”

It was a ragged whisper, but it was enough.

He remembered that his lips were no longer stitched tightly together, that he was pulled out of hell. He tried to breathe again.

“It’s ok, you’re ok. It’s ok, you’re ok.”

He checked the clock again.

“Fifty minutes.”

He reached for the chair that had toppled over in his haste, righted it, and tried to get comfortable. Sam and Dean would be back any minute, and Gabriel could not let them see him like this.

He closed his eyes, and took some calming breaths.

In and out. In and out.

Never show weakness.

“It’s ok, you’re ok,” he said as the mask slipped back into place. “It’s ok, you’re ok.”

~~

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