Chapter Text
"What would I have to do? What do I have to change?"
"... You. You're always gonna be... what you are, and... after... after everything..."
The words echo in Sam Winchester's mind - the archangel's desperate plea, and his own despairing response - as he stares down at the broken form kneeling just outside the bunker's door. Gabriel's eyes are dark and harrowed, exhaustion making his head heavy as he lifts his gaze to meet Sam's eyes. He's holding up a small vial, glowing blue, in his shaking hand. Sam can see the blood soaking through his shirt where he... he must have...
He cut it out... God, he carved it out of himself... for me...
Sam drops to the landing floor, reaching out to gather the trembling angel - no, not an angel, not anymore - into his arms and pull him close. Gabriel collapses against him, his breathing deep with relief and sharp with pain, still holding up the vial for Sam to take.
Sam can't even begin to imagine how much it must hurt.
"Why?" Sam whispers, shaking his head, eyes burning with tears as he accepts the offered gift, far more than he could ever have asked.
But you did. You did ask. And he surrendered it without question.
"I - I could never hurt you, Sam," Gabriel replies, weak and exhausted. "I know that... but... you needed to know that, so... it's yours." He looks up to meet Sam's eyes, earnest and pleading. "I'm yours," he whispers.
Sam can only respond by pulling him closer, kissing him gently but fervently, tasting the salt of his own tears on Gabriel's lips as he finally pulls away.
"Come on," he murmurs as he gathers Gabriel gently into his arms and carries him inside. "Let's get you patched up..." He brushes his lips across Gabriel's forehead as the smaller man settles in against his chest. "... my angel."