Chapter Text
Sam wasn't surprised at all to find his brother chatting up a pretty girl at the bar. When wasn't Dean doing that? His womanizer brother was such a hoot. Not. He sighed and set down his beer, trying to figure out when exactly he would be able to go back to their shared motel room. He could just get a new one and then come back in the morning. That seemed the easier option, rather than have to wait for the right moment and hope he didn't walk in on his brother and some girl. Sam was pulled out of his thoughts when Dean clapped him on the shoulder, pretty girl nowhere in sight.
"Why dontcha try to get some action, Sammy? Unless you're planning a wonderful night with that bottle you've been staring at?" Dean chuckled. The issue was that Sam didn't feel like some useless fling, especially not with a woman.
"Actually, I'm thinking of calling it a night; I dont feel well." Sam replied, getting up and throwing some money at the bartender. He gave Dean the best smile he could muster before adding, "I'll get a room for the night, don't worry," and slipping out of his older brother's grip. He hadn't been feeling well, that wasn't a lie, but a sore throat never stopped him from a night out before.
Sam trudged the way back to the motel, leaving Dean the impala. He wouldn't have given him the keys, anyways. The walk wasn't long but it was long enough for Sam to regret not at least asking for the keys. He didn't want to think about Gabriel right now. He didn't want to think about Gabriel ever again, if he could help it. The blond haired archangel seemed to never leave his mind these days. It had been a while since his death and Sam thought the pain in his chest would get better with time. It never did. He never told Dean about how he felt. How Dean felt towards the archangel was obvious; he hated him. Sam couldn't blame Dean for that, not really. He would probably hate him too if they hadn't spent several nights together. The thoughts made Sam shiver and start walking a little faster. He wanted to think of those memories the least. He didn't want to think about how the powerful man felt under his hands. He didn't need reminders that he would never feel that again.
Sam's throat started hurting more and suddenly he was very grateful he had decided to leave, even if he had to walk. He doubled over on the sidewalk, coughing violently. Sam wasn't surprised. He'd stopped being surprised after the second or third time it had happened. He knew he loved Gabriel. He had planned to ignore it for as long as possible and spend as much time with the loveable angel as he could. That was before everything happened and Sam was left with a Gabriel sized hole in his chest. When he was done, he put the little yellow and red petals in his pocket, with the others, and started walking again. This had been happening more frequently as the months passed. Another reason not to think of Gabe. The coughing was always worse when he remembered him so vividly. When it had first started, Sam had sworn he was going crazy. He couldn't possibly think this was about Gabriel but Jessica had been gone too long for the disease to be caused by her. Hanahaki disease was a nasty thing to die from. It killed from unrequited love and Gabriel's death had trigged the disease in Sam. He had been so frantic to prove he didn't have it; he'd spent hours on end researching every part of the disease to prove it to himself. That was a few months ago and Sam had spent the entire time hiding the petals from Dean, and himself. Not an easy job to do when you shared a room and bathroom most of the time. Not an easy job when they were slowly growing in size and number.
The motel lights were bright enough to distract Sam for the moment. He walked up to the lady at the front desk and asked for a room for the night. She gave him an odd look, no doubt wondering what happened with the other man for him to get a whole new room, but complied. Throwing a wad of cash at her, he hurried down to his new room before he could start coughing again. He hadn't actually heard what price she said but apparently he'd put down enough cash to get him by. Unlocking the new door, he was unsurprised at the room. It looked exactly like the other one but it was smaller with one bed. First thing he did was make sure to throw away the petals. After that was done, he washed his hands to get rid of the blood. But then there was nothing to do. All his stuff was in the other room and Sam couldn't be sure if Dean had come back with a girl in the short time he had gotten the new room. He decided to look at the room a bit more, desperate for a distraction. It had weird blue walls and a beige carpet everywhere except for the bathroom. The bed was covered by a light blue blanket and one pillow that looked like it had the life beaten out of it. It probably had.
Suddenly Sam remembered when Gabriel had conjured up a ton of pillows, claiming he had back problems, before making them all explode and showering Sam in feathers. The way Gabriel laughed was so amazing, Sam thought before he could catch himself. Another fit of coughing was brought on and Sam found himself stumbling to a chair, so that he didn't fall over. When it was over, he sighed and looked at the petals in his hands. In the months since this started, he had to accept several things: one- he couldn't ignore how much he loved Gabriel any longer, two- Dean would be pissed if he found out who this was about, and three- Sam was going to die. He had decided that he wouldn't tell Dean till he couldn't hide it anymore. He wasn't very upset at the idea of dying. He'd died several times. He was upset with the idea of leaving Dean alone and worried what Dean would do. Sam got up and threw the new petals away, washing his hands once more, before deciding to do the only thing he could think of to help Dean.
Sam sat on the tiny motel bed and put his hands together, not sure how to phrase his next words.
"Hey Cas, buddy, we need to talk. Its about Dean. I'm dying."