SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS

Read Part One of the this series on Ao3

The Entire Series Here

Pairing: Sabriel (If you Squint)

Word Count: 1373

Warnings: SPOILERS, Spoilers for 13X17 “The Thing”, Coda, Coda for 13X17, Canon Verse

Summary: “Gabriel, man… What did they do to you?” 

Sabriel Squad: @doctor-zyre @toastiel @sammy-spirit-winchester @nanika67@belabee @loudenswainfangirl @wacheypena @gabe-killed-me-with-ace-cream @xbooksandtea @team-gabriel @moostache @tricksterxangel@ourloveisforthelovely @sarahij84 @iamsuoerwholockedforever @quaker-wtf-lass @monochrome-maiden @reallyscj @audreyholmes13@littlexcas @revwinchester@thegirlofmanyfandoms10125 @randomizationsposts@maui137 @queenofhellisafangirl @dean-cass-sammy @moonlightrosepetal

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Sam could not stop staring.

Gabriel, Gabriel the archangel whom they’d seen dead, whose wings had gone up in smoke, was sitting bloody and beaten at their table.  He was wild-eyed and jumpy, starting at every sound, his hands pressing white-knuckled against each other in his terror.

Sam searched his face, looking for any sign of the feisty, sassy archangel that they’d known, but he could find nothing. It was like a stranger was staring back at him, like he was wearing a mask.

His hands lingered on Gabriel’s cheeks as he assessed his injuries, and Sam could feel him flinching under the contact.

What had they done to him?

Cutting around his lips were the worst, most of the damage Gabriel had sustained would be easily healable once Cas got back, but Sam was worried about those. So much of what Sam remembered of Gabriel was his voice, the way he spoke, the curl or sneer of his lips as he talked, his wit. They’d robbed him of his voice, shutting him up in one of the most ruthless ways Sam could think of. Gabriel hadn’t shown any indication he could or would speak again, all the noises he made were pained groans and grunts, and Sam found those even more unsettling than words.

The first thing Sam did after he’d looked at worst of Gabriel’s wounds was try and get him to eat. He knew the angels didn’t need sustenance like humans did, but in the state Gabriel was in, he didn’t see how it could hurt. He had always associated candy and sweets with Gabriel, but the more he thought about it, the more unsure he became about it. Candy was part of his Trickster persona, and Sam knew from talks with Cas, that an angel’s sense of taste was more developed than a human’s. Would he even want to eat?

He ended up with a platter with a selection of all the food in the bunker: Dean’s stash of snack cakes, apples and bananas, the half of the huge steak that Dean had taken home the other night. He didn’t know what Gabriel might need, or prefer, so he brought it all.

Sam put it down in front of Gabriel, looking like a lost child wearing Sam’s oversized flannel shirt over his rags, and sat down next to him. Gabriel watched him with fear, his eyes flicking back and forth from Sam to the door, as if he was trying to access the best place to hide if Sam decided to hurt him.

“Gabriel,” Sam said softly. “Do… do you remember me?”

Gabriel didn’t move, acted like he hadn’t even heard Sam speak.

“What’s my name?” Sam tried a different way. Maybe his name would jog his memory. “Can you say my name?”

Gabriel’s mouth didn’t move, he just stared at Sam carefully, and Sam sighed.

“It’s okay. That’s okay,” Sam told him. “I’m going to take care of you, you need to eat and rest, and then we can talk.”

But Gabriel didn’t even try to eat, just sat there staring at him.

Finally Sam gave up. He couldn’t force Gabriel to eat if he didn’t want to. He put the food back in the fridge, and took Gabriel back to his room. He had debated putting him in one of the extra rooms, the bunker had dozens, but he thought Gabriel might do better someplace semi-familiar and his own bedroom, with his things was the best he had.

After tucking Gabriel into bed, Sam retreated to the library, hoping to find something that would help him help Gabriel begin to heal. The Men of Letters had a lot of lore and spells concerning archangels, but not a lot on healing trauma. Sam couldn’t say he was surprised.

Sam put his head in his hands, trying to wrap his head around what had happened in the past couple days. Tentacle Gods from another dimension, Gabriel, Dean leaving him and taking Ketch of all people to rescue Mom and Jack. It all made him feel sick. He was angry, and tired, and trying to keep busy to avoid thinking about any of it. What was worse was how guilty he felt over the fact that  even though he was concerned about Gabriel, he would have left him here without a second thought.

Gabriel was like he was, had gone through what he had gone through because of them. They had pushed him into this, forced him to stand up to his brother and he had gotten killed for it. Now he was back, beaten half to death and mentally scarred, and Sam felt responsible for all of it. He needed help but all Sam could think about was his anger at Dean. All this research, the food, everything he had done since Dean left, it was all to keep himself from thinking about how angry and betrayed he felt.

Sam put his head down on the table with a sigh. As much as he wanted to, there was nothing he could do right now but wait. Dean didn’t need his help, and there was a broken archangel sleeping in his bed that did.

Sam was admittedly no expert in handling trauma. He’d only recently come to terms with his own, and he hadn’t even begun to try and actually deal with what Lucifer had done to him. All he’d done was push it so deep that it had begun to fester, and the only way he was going to fix it was to reopen the wound and drain the infection. He hadn’t poked the wound for fear it would rupture. He had told Dean and anyone else who asked that he was fine, but it had been layers upon layers of lies. He was not fine, and only recently, when he had talked to Rowena about it, had be begun to heal.

He hadn’t felt like he could talk to anyone, because no one else understood what he had been through. No one wanted to listen, and as a result, Sam had shut it all away.

But Sam could understand what Gabriel had been through. Even if their situations weren’t the same, he knew what being trapped down there did to someone, what pain did to their mind. He could imagine Gabriel feeling betrayed by his brothers, confused to why he was back, hopelessness. He remembered those exact feelings, after he’d gotten his soul back, more vividly than he cared to admit.

When Sam thought about it, and he had, he and Gabriel were more alike than he’d originally realized. If having someone listen to him had helped him, even in the smallest part, perhaps that could be key.  He could listen to Gabriel, when he was ready to talk about it, and maybe, just maybe, they could begin to heal together.

Gabriel had been a conundrum to him even under the best of circumstances, and it wasn’t until he was dead that Sam began to take him apart bit and bit, and understand him. Despite all his hemming and hawing, Gabriel had helped them, and once Cas had healed whatever physical damage Asmodeus had done to him, Sam would step in. He didn’t know if this would work, if Gabriel would talk to him, or talk at all, but he was going to try his hardest to let him know that he didn’t have to do it alone.

He hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep again at the library table, until he heard the crash from the kitchen. Sam’s first waking thought was that someone had broken it, that they’d come after Gabriel, Ketch or both, and he groped in the dark for the closest thing with which to defend himself. He dashed in the direction from which the noise had come and into the kitchen.

The fridge was open, and Gabriel was standing in front of it.

He started when he saw Sam, but Sam held up his hands. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just me.”

Gabriel was holding a bowl of chocolate mousse, and he looked at Sam with recognition in his eyes.

“Hi,” Gabriel said, his voice raspy from misuse. “Sammy.”