Chapter Text
Sam sat down across from the man, eyes drinking in every detail he could see. Even now, he remembered that night in the hotel. The light Gabriel had once had in his eyes, even as he told Dean and him to grab Kali and run. He couldn’t see it now. All he could see was fear.
He picked up the small scalpel, seeing the smaller man flinch at the sight of it.
“No,” he said softly. “I…” He reached a hand forward to touch Gabriel’s shoulder, but the man winced again. For a moment, Sam wondered when the last time Gabriel had felt a hand on him that had been in kindness.
“I…” He softened his tone. Sam was a big guy. He knew it. Hell, the world knew it. Big and intimidating. Maybe not as much as Dean, but Sam figured anyone would be intimidating to Gabriel now.
“I don’t want to cut you,” he said softly. “I need leverage.”
Gabriel’s eyes darted over to the table. Sam understood. He set one hand on the table and brought the scalpel forward.
“Please, if you can, don’t move.”
Gabriel nodded very slightly.
For as large as Sam’s hands were, he’d naturally had a delicate touch. Even as a kid, he’d been able to help his Dad and Dean with their wounds. Hell, learning to use a thread and needle was an essential part of being a hunter. As he cut away the first thread, he stared at it. Half of him wanted to ask, but he knew it wasn’t his place. He couldn’t begin to imagine the pain. Well, he’d been to hell himself, but “hell” was an experience. And from the looks of the once so bright and proud archangel… he’d seen hell.
“I’ll… I’ll get you some fresh clothes and I’ll help you clean up, okay?” He tried to smile, tried to make a good show, but the look on Gabriel’s face spoke volumes. Not disbelief, not miss-trust.
Fear. Even now. Even after he was supposed to be safe. But he and Sam both knew better. “Safe” would never be a reality for them. Still, Sam could try. He lowered the knife.
“I don’t know what you endured,” he said. “And I can’t make it go away… but I can fight like hell to make sure he suffers for what he did. You know I will.”
Gabriel regarded him for a minute. Slowly, he lifted a trembling hand, reaching out to touch Sam’s hair. Still long, still soft. Even now. He let his hand slowly move down Sam’s hair, trembling fingers brushing the light stubble on his cheek… before he lowered his hand and placed it on Sam’s shoulder, gripping it tightly. Sam nodded.
“You can keep it there.”
Gabriel regarded him carefully.
“I won’t touch you.” Sam looked right into his eyes. “I swear to you.”
Carefully, with Gabriel’s grip soundly on his shoulder, he cut away the rest of the thread. He watched as Gabriel’s lips parted slightly, taking in what must have been his first breath in a long time. He looked up at Sam, his other hand still petting Sam’s hair.
“Never cut it… eh, Sasquatch?”
In that tired, ragged voice, Sam could hear the tiniest shimmer of hope.