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Sam awoke to another perfect beautiful sunny morning with birds singing in the distance. It was honestly irritating.
When asked what he would like, which he constantly was, Sam had requested variation in the weather. It seemed that things had been set to default to stereotypical sunny California conditions. But even California had cloudy, rainy, and stormy days. Here, the weather was always the same and it occasionally got on his nerves.
He had asked for some climate variation to give him some sort of change, but all he had ever received were blank stares. Why wouldn’t he want sunny days? He could thus spend all the time he liked outdoors during the day, Castiel delicately pointed out, helpfully adding how pleasant weather and sunshine was shown to improve one’s mood. He meant well, but it pissed Sam off. Even Dean thought that things should be bright and sunny during the day for his little brother, with rain only at night.
Sam thought that his brother was an idiot and that Castiel could shove it.
The only real variation in his immediate environment was who was going to visit him each day and that was on a simple two day rotation. Cas and Dean one day, Gabriel and Dean the next, and then repeat. Sam was glad to see Dean everyday, but he knew well the reason an angel always accompanied his brother.
For his safety and the safety of the world and Heaven, Sam was restricted from the outside world. There could be no chance of Lucifer finding him. He had to be kept completely isolated and a prisoner in a cage of Heaven.
Granted, it was a gilded cage. The mansion he had been placed in looked like something from lifestyles of the rich and famous, with every luxury one could want. He had a gigantic pool with deck and fire pit, workout room, a full spa bath, gourmet kitchens (inside and outside), and choices of jogging paths through lush green areas. Anything he wanted in terms of food, entertainment, material items, all he had to do was merely think of it, and it would appear. The televisions and computers provided him with shows, movies, and generic news of the world, but nothing in detail; he was not allowed to know too much of what was going on.
Because being the vessel for Lucifer meant that Sam had become the most dangerous person in the entire world, the most dangerous person to the entire world and Heaven. Thus he had been locked away. Sam had to be kept safe from Lucifer, the fallen archangel completely unable to find his vessel. And the world and Heaven had to be kept safe from Sam.
He sighed and got up from his super sized king bed, custom made for his comfort, and changed into running clothes. In college, a psychology class had mentioned how the military trained people that if they were ever taken hostage, to stay as physically fit as possible; to eat what was offered and keep up their strength. It was important to stay sharp mentally and physically.
So Sam made himself exercise and train as he had all his life. He ate healthy and kept his mind alert by pursuing the law degree he had wanted in his life before. He was magically provided with books and could listen to lectures and classes via some lesser angel in a vessel that sat in classes, letting Sam hear and see what was taught. Sam wrote his papers or projects and they were turned in with the vessel's fake identity, even exams somehow delivered and returned via angel mail. He received outstanding grades, and Gabriel assured Sam that he would be able to take the bar exam when the time came. Sam would truly be a lawyer.
And then what? Sam had begged to be allowed to at least research to help the hunters on earth, but all supernatural materials were forbidden by Michael. It was the same reason his news of the world was restricted; if - if - Lucifer somehow found Sam, the less the human knew, the better.
“What difference does that make?” Sam had ragged at the beginning. “I should know what’s happening! I can be prepared!”
“Lucifer does not know all, but he could put together pieces with your help,” Michael answered flatly, his arms crossed as he faced the hunter somehow managing to tower over the 6’4’’ human. “You are frankly too intelligent already; it makes you an even more powerful weapon should you fall to him.”
Enraged, Sam sent a vase flying through the air, taking satisfaction in the sound of breaking glass. Childish perhaps, but he had been arguing non stop for hours, and his anger had to be released somehow. “Then why not just kill me?” he finally demanded, stepping up to face the first born of Heaven. “Problem solved, right?” He was ready to accept that fate, and everyone knew it, especially Dean, who was screaming outside the room Sam and Michael were in, fighting to get inside. Even Castiel was unable to contain the older brother and his shouts could occasionally be heard as well, trying to calm Dean down.
“My father long ago forbade angels taking human lives, and I will honor that decision. Keeping you isolated -safe- is the only option that keeps you alive.” Michael paused, considering things, before continuing. “I did intend to take away your intelligence,” he admitted calmly, his face showing no expression at the frankly horrific reveal. “Giving you the mind of an infant, unable to give consent to being possessed. Or physically disable you to the extent that you would be a useless vessel that even Lucifer could not repair.”
The perfectly casual chilling words made Sam stand still in shock as he absorbed the true meaning, realizing these were his only alternatives. “This,” Michael gestured about the room of the mansion they were in, “was a hard fought compromise. Be grateful you have advocates who were able to convince me that this home and rules we have set will be enough. But I will not hesitate to take one of those additional steps if I feel it necessary at any time.”
Sam had to take a deep breath to steady himself, realizing just how close he was to something that to him was worse than death. “Who persuaded you?”
“Castiel, and Gabriel; mostly Gabriel. As an archangel, he has been given responsibility for your confinement. His very existence now focuses and depends on you remaining here.” Eyes that seemed to always change color regarded the hunter, a touch of emotion in them for the first time. “I personally wish you no ill, Samuel Winchester,” he said quietly, and Sam believed him despite everything. “The burden that has fallen on you is not of your making and is not fair; I know this, and I am sorry that this is necessary. I take no pleasure in being your jailor, nor does anyone. But we cannot allow you freedom whilst the battle still takes place and Lucifer may find you.”
Sam looked down and turned away, his eyes and mind searching for an escape that he already knew did not exist. “You will be granted everything possible, cared for and pampered, allowed to see your brother daily,” Michael continued. “But I will restrict you further physically and or mentally if needed.” Michael looked at the human seriously, emanating power and strength, but also a clear warning. “Do not push too hard against these bars, Samuel; they are also meant to protect you from worse possibilities.”
Such as being disabled, so he would be no real use to Lucifer.
So Sam filled his days with American constitutional law, becoming an expert on election procedures, the most boring and least “dangerous” legal speciality he could think of. He had once wished to focus on civil rights or family law but it was too ironic to study arguments about unlawful imprisonment or restriction of rights when he himself could now be considered a candidate for the Innocence Project. And he tried not to think too much about what he would do once he had the law degree, knowing he had to keep his mind alert or he would surely go mad. More study, he speculated, though no doubt the angels would have the final say on what subjects he would be allowed.
“Erotic art of the Victorian 1890’s,” Gabriel had suggested without hesitation when the subject of future studies had somehow come up during one visit, making both Sam and Dean choke on their beer. “Trust me,” the trickster winked. “The original porn sites; nothing better.” Dean looked intrigued, and Sam wanted to drown himself in the pool.
Now, Sam took his time warming up before setting out on his morning run. He chose the south path for no particular reason, just seeking random variety. His pocket dimension, his location, as it had been described to him, was not huge, so that it could be easily guarded. But the estate grounds were large enough for a good run, even though Sam could now recognize every single plant along each trail. But even after nearly two years, he found occasional surprises in the mansion and grounds; different furniture or art, new Michael approved books on the library shelves, updated electronics, new plants or flowers growing, added touches here and there. Sam tried to not think of them as new toys to keep the human occupied.
He made good time on his run, satisfied with the result, and returning to his bathroom suite, took a shower in the stall that was bigger than some of the motel rooms that he and Dean had stayed in. Sam was still rather intimidated by the sheer number of nozzles, suspecting that if all turned on full blast, they could pin him against the shower wall better than a demon's spell.
The elaborate and complicated coffee machine had auto started as programmed, and fresh coffee awaited him in the kitchen. When he needed something positive to think of, Sam did acknowledge the gourmet coffee and food, the mansion and its facilities; not that he put much in material possessions, but he understood it was the angels' ways of trying to apologize for the circumstances. He knew things could be far worse. But he would trade it all in a heartbeat for crappy coffee, mystery diner sandwiches, and moldy motels for just a few minutes free back on earth.
Well, there was no use pitting himself any more at the moment, he decided firmly. He had a paper on appointing county judges for civil cases due in a few days, and determinedly turned his focus to that matter. Breakfast smoothie in one hand, coffee in the other, he settled in the library and went to work after fixing a lunch salad to marinate in the refrigerator.
*****
*****
A chime and gentle flicker of the lights alerted Sam in late afternoon that Dean would soon be arriving, today's escort being Gabriel. Sam knew time ran differently here than on earth, as sometimes it was clear Dean had just come from a night hunt when it was day for Sam. He also never knew what time of day or evening Dean would arrive and how long he could stay, and assumed that was on purpose to not set any pattern. Michael’s paranoia obviously knew no bounds.
Sam found a good stopping point in his writing and wandered out onto the large deck and patio near the pool to await his visitors. Dean openly admired the never empty beer refrigerator built into the grilling area, and Sam suspected it was Gabriel’s touch, just like the tiki bar beside it with all sorts of fruity drinks on tap. It was ridiculous, but Sam felt like he should try to be a good host, even if he was in a prisoner receiving tightly controlled and approved visitors.
He was debating which beer of the world to try today when Dean and Gabriel arrived. “Hey,” Dean said, his usual greeting his entire life. What was new was the hug Dean always now initiated, obviously needing to touch his brother as much as Sam needed the same, chick flick moments be damned. The hug kept them both grounded.
Dean had raged even more than Sam when his little brother was first taken. Sam knew there was a lot he hadn’t been told, but some was obvious in the way Dean hugged him, always whispering that he would find a way to free him, telling even Castiel to fuck off when the angel began hinting it was time to leave when he was the chaperone.
The first visits had been hard on them both, Dean forcibly dragged away every time, yelling and cursing at Cas or Gabe, screaming at Sammy to stay strong, that he would free him. It was so difficult that Sam honestly wondered at times if it might be better for the visits to be limited. But then Dean would hug him fiercely, and Sam knew they both needed the contact as often as possible. It was a joy and pain for them both every single day, but the relief that promises of daily visits were being honored outweighed the pain of each separation. Sam would stay strong no matter what, as would Dean.
And Sam knew he was becoming touch starved. Maybe Dean knew it as well, and that was what had started the hugs.
Besides, they were Winchesters, and were always there for each other.
“Well, you look….filthy,” Sam said as he regarded his brother, always trying to keep things light. And it was true, Dean was covered head to toe with dirt.
The older brother grunted. “You try digging into a g—-“ he broke off at a glance from Gabriel and as always Sam suspected that the archangel had used mojo to stop Dean from speaking. Knowing about current cases was on Michael’s endless forbidden list. “Try digging ,” Dean sneered, now glaring at the archangel. “There. Am I allowed to say that word?” he snarked, confirming Sam’s suspicion.
Gabriel raised a frothy glass in a mock toast. “Stick to grunts, Dean-o. Don’t stress your limited vocabulary.”
Sam sighed as the older hunter and the archangel exchanged insults. Half their visit was usually spent with Dean and Gabriel bickering, but irritating as it was, it also gave Sam some much needed entertainment. There was less drama with Cas and Dean, but to be perfectly frank, Sam preferred Gabe as the chaperone. Cas was excruciatingly and painfully polite and solicitous, pestering Sam constantly if he needed anything; one could see the guilt radiating off him, and always seriously and earnestly inquiring about his classes. Boring. Gabriel was much more fun.
Sam didn’t need or want pity or to be treated as the great sacrifice to prevent Armageddon. He craved normalcy.
The archangel snapped his fingers and a platter of marinating steaks appeared on the counter, the grill springing to life. Sam took it as a good sign that their visit would be longer today than some others, and busied himself opening the other outdoor refrigerator to pull out ingredients for salad while Dean washed his hands and turned into the grill master, taking fierce possession of the meat. Both brothers had learned early on that the timing of visits varied, so they had learned to appreciate each opportunity
Conversation was sometimes a bit awkward with so many of their usual topics (family business, hunting things) off limits, but the brothers always made do. Being brothers, they could always find something to argue about, and starting to bitch at each other about the best Fast and the Furious movie was as good a topic as any. Dean was pissed that Sam didn’t agree with the older brother's wisdom, and Sam threw a piece of lettuce at the grill master and told him to stuff that and grill it where the sun didn’t shine.
By the time Dean declared the steaks ready, conversation had turned to debating the best movie Batman actor. Then the meal made them compare horror stories about past foods, Dean pointing at Sam’s salad as a personal offense, Sam countering about crappy diner stuff that had barely passed as food.
Gabriel, as always, sat quietly a short distance away, drinking steadily and giving the brothers as much privacy as he could. Sam remembered a stern order from day one that Castiel and Gabriel could not leave Sam alone with Dean, lest some secret info be passed on, but at least Gabriel kept a respectful space. Sam knew the archangel could hear every word no matter how quietly whispered, but allowing the image of privacy was appreciated.
Castiel tried, bless him, but he tended to stick close to Dean, which Sam had noted was seldom rebuffed by his brother. He was now 80% certain that his big brother and the angel were having sex on at least random occasions and was dying to know details, but respected their privacy. The irritated but still emotional looks Dean exchanged with Cas during visits and touches between them did not go unnoticed. Dean bitched about Castiel’s sticking to fucking Michael’s fucking rules and allowing no fucking leeway what so fucking ever, which made San definitely know something going on between them, even if it was hate sex. The constant referall to fucking was his first clue.
In truth, Sam was happy for his brother if his suspicions were correct. Dean deserved some happiness, especially with Sam taken away. Dean was a fiercely overprotective father figure to Sam, but the bond went both ways. Sam would do anything for Dean, including putting on a good show about accepting his imprisonment, trying to ease even a tiny portion of Dean's worries. Dean could not be more distracted than he already was with the battles on earth; he had to know and believe that Sam was safe and not spend time worrying about him.
And even more strangely, but still understandable to Sam, was that there was some relief in Dean's mind that Sam was now safe. Sam had been Dean's responsibility since he was four years old, the night Sam was placed in his arms, and the burden had only grown when they learned Sam was Lucifer's vessel. Now, Sam was truly safe; the angels had seen to it themselves. Not a decision the brothers had made, but Sam forced himself to try to accept it with grace, seeing the anger at their separation but also honest relief in Dean's eyes knowing Sam was now truly protected from anything and anyone.
A cage to keep Sam in, but also to keep Lucifer and any demons out. Sam was protected and pampered in a manner that Dean could never provide. Sam knew his brother hated their separation, but that there was also a totally unacknowledged and repressed part of Dean that was relieved Sam was safely tucked in his cage where nothing could hurt him. Thus, Sam did all he could to act content as possible around his brother daily, never complaining, never fighting beyond the usual brother bickering.
Sam knew that Dean analyzed his every word and action each visit, looking for any signs of distress, his brother far more brilliant and astute than most gave him credit for. Sam felt the best thing he could do was act calmly and keep Dean stable, content that his baby brother was safe and happy as could be. Dean had enough on his plate of worries and responsibilities and knowing Sam was protected eased much of Dean's fears. He could focus on being the Righteous Man, the one meant to hopefully bring an end to the threat of Armageddon if Sam, the brother who could cause the Apocalypse, was kept safely hidden.
And if Dean succeeded in the battle, then perhaps Sam could be freed. It all went together.
They finished the steaks, Dean lowering himself to eat a few bits of lettuce, likely to try to make Sam happy. The younger brother grinned at the expression on Dean’s face as he munched the rabbit food and washed it back with a long swig of beer.
“So how are classes?” Dean finally asked, taking a page from Castiel's usual conversation. Sam was truthfully disappointed and suddenly started to wonder if Castiel was a bad influence on his brother.
“Enlightening,” Sam replied dryly, suspecting he was pulling a bitch face. “Nothing too hard, just boring as hell.”
Green eyes widened in mock surprise. “And this from the guy who loves research,” Dean lightly teased.
Sam snorted a little. “About interesting stuff, sure. But not which county allows write-in candidates and which don’t. There’s no rhyme or reason to it. I swear half the laws were made up by demons just to mess with people’s minds.”
Gabriel, who had been quiet until then, cleared his throat. “Likely more truth to what you're saying than you know, Samsquatch,” he contributed, making Sam point a finger at the archangel.
“Exactly my point. And it was done just for fun, wasn’t it?”
“Even demons get bored,” Gabriel shrugged.
Dean chugged back his latest bottle of beer. “Send some of them my damn way then,” he said. “Too many busy with –’ he paused, and Sam could see the struggle on his brother’s face. “Trouble,” Dean was finally able to say. He glared at Gabriel, who just shrugged and tossed back his own fruity drink.
It was early evening now, and Sam sensed that the visit was nearing its end. Dean started to pick up the plates to help clean but Sam waved him away. “I got it,” he assured his brother. There wasn’t that much else for him to do, and all knew it.
“Ok. Hey, tomorrow, Halo , right?” The 120 inch big screen TV and full accessories in the man cave game room had made even Dean blink a little and conceded that Sam’s cage was maybe acceptable at certain times. Sam himself never tried to deny that it was comfortable.
“Castiel says that the game is trite and unrealistic,” Sam pointed out, though he was totally on board for a game session.
“Exactly,” Dean shrugged, which made Sam raise an eyebrow. Umm…trouble in paradise perhaps? Dean didn’t seem too concerned about what tomorrow's chaperone cared for, and Sam decided to wait and see what was going on between them.
He had plenty of time, after all.
Dean wasn’t much for the farewell part, no doubt thinking it was chick flick to hug goodbye, but the brothers never passed an opportunity anymore for a quick hug. “Don’t give up,” Dean whispered.
“You either.” Sam made himself pull away, putting on a smile. Dean just grunted with a nod. Determination, thy name was Winchester. Sam knew Dean would not rest until his baby brother was free.
It helped a lot to know that.
Gabriel seemed preoccupied with his fingernails while the brothers made their farewells, but then got off his chair and stepped closer. “See you later, Samwich,” he said casually.
“I’ll be here,” Sam said, trying to not let bitch face #4 appear and also color his voice. He wasn’t personally mad at the archangel or Castiel anymore, though Michael was still on his shit list. Gabriel nodded, and then he and Dean vanished with a snap of fingers.
Sam took a deep breath, sighing. It never got easier when Dean left, and it sucked. Nothing to be done about it, but Sam could still mentally bitch about it and felt it was justifiable.
The first raindrops started to fall just as he finished cleaning up and Sam didn’t have to look at his watch to know it was exactly 7:30 pm. Damn weather time. He decided to push Castiel tomorrow when inevitably asked if he needed anything and demand a good old-fashioned afternoon thunderstorm. Castiel would give him the patented ‘I don’t understand humans’ look, but he would deliver. It might be fun to hole up in the man cave and play video games while listening to the storm.
There was a brief flicker of lights, and Sam frowned, looking automatically up at the kitchen lights. A moment later Gabriel appeared sitting on a kitchen chair, and Sam raised an eyebrow. Gabriel had stopped by once or twice after taking Dean back to earth, but seldom so soon, at least in Sam’s timeline. They had left less than an hour earlier in Sam’s time.
“Is Dean ok?” Sam demanded immediately, wondering what had prompted the archangel’s appearance.
Gabriel waved the question off. “Even that knucklehead couldn’t get in trouble again so fast; he’s fine,” he assured Sam.
“Okay?” Sam tilted his head a bit. “So what brings you by then?”
Gabriel shrugged, a smile on his lips. “Maybe I want to hear more about the enlightening classes on appointing judges?”
Sam had to hold back his laugh. “Exasperating might be more accurate,” he allowed. “It’s important,” he defended, although he knew most of the idea of government was lost on the archangel. “Not glamorous, but still important for legalities and government.”
“And you of course just love following the law,” Gabriel commented with a wink as some fruity cocktail appeared in his hand
Sam shrugged as he made a cup of tea and joined Gabriel at the kitchen table. “I figured since I was a kid that studying law was the best compromise; still the family business of saving people, just not by hunting things. This is rather the same, just tamer than killing.”
Wise ageless eyes looked at the hunter. “And is that what you had wished to study; election procedures for local officials?”
“Not at all,” Sam said calmly, seeing no need to lie or hold back. “I wanted what Michael appears to consider the most dangerous; rights and family law.”
“Family law.” Gabriel openly snorted into his drink. “Dear dad, don’t get me started there.”
Sam considered things for a moment. “Yeah, I know you didn’t have the best family past,” he conceded. The archangel snorted again into his fruity drink in agreement. And it was something Sam did know and appreciate; Dean would always be there for him no matter what; even if his baby brother Sammy did start Armageddon. Gabriel hadn’t seen his brothers and sisters for a millennium and was still on very shaky ground with most of them.
“I ran, kiddo,” Gabriel admitted flatly. “Couldn't take the war anymore, and disappeared. I felt it better to let my brothers and sisters think I was dead as opposed to thinking I couldn’t take a side anymore. They have every right to call me chicken shit.”
Sam sipped his tea, pondering the admission. “Could you have won anything on your own?” he asked. The archangel shook his head. “Then you did what you needed to do,” Sam ventured. “Nothing you did could change things, so you took the best route for you. Yeah, you were a dick for letting your family think you were dead, but I sort of understand.”
“Dean at least knows you are safe,” Gabriel offered.
“What about Bobby? Other hunters? Dean and I are the only blood family we have, but all hunters are family of some sort. What have they been told about me? Or can’t you tell me because of Michael’s paranoia?” Gabriel looked away, and Sam had his answer. “It’s okay,” Sam sighed. “I just wish they could know that I was alright. They probably think Dean is going insane if I’m not around.”
“You are safe,” Gabiel said, his tone fierce, his eyes flashing. “Mike’s an asshole for what he's done, as are most of the dear family for going along with it. I fought for you, kiddo, I really did.”
“I know. Your big brother is really good at saying two things at the same time, isn’t he? Going on about how hey, it's nothing personal, but he’s happy to point out what he wanted to do and still could.” Sam took a sip of his tea, suspecting he was privilege to be able to savor the taste and know at least what he was doing. Michael had clearly had other plans.
“That shit about taking your mind, maiming your body?” Gabriel’s eyes narrowed, and there was nothing of the trickster in them, just pure anger and archangel power. “Yeah, I would have started Armageddon if he had done that, and he knew it, as did everyone else. No one was for that shit idea. Castile would have turned his garrison against Mikey, and the high and mighty big brother would have lost. Don’t let Jimmy Novak’s vessel fool you. Castiel commanded an entire garrison for a reason. He’s a BAMF when not pulling off the accountant look.”
Sam had to blink a little, reflecting on seeing Castiel in some pretty kick ass fighting moves. He could only imagine what he was capable of when not restrained by Jimmy’s body. “I knew that you fought for this compromise, but not so much Castiel. Guess I owe him one.”
“Nah, you owe nobody anything, Sammykins, believe me, not even Cassie,” Gabriel assured him. “He’s my brother, and trust me, he’s still a jackass in plenty of ways. Just like that lump of attitude you call a brother.”
“Um….” Sam sipped his tea. “Speaking of Castiel….and Dean…”
“Yes?” The archangel was grinning, likely suspecting where this might be going.
He felt like an old lady gossiping, but heck, it was the best he had. Sam leaned forward as if they were trying to not be overheard. “Ok, can you tell me this - are those two…uh…”
“Knocking boots? Doing the dirty? Making the beast with two backs? Doing the horizontal mambo? Jerking–”
Sam held up a hand. “Enough of the euphemisms. Yes or no?”
Gabriel almost giggled. “Yes,” he confirmed. He pointed a finger at the human. “But I will deny telling you, you understand?”
“Oh, like who the hell else could I have heard it from?” Sam groaned.
“Exactly! So you can’t rat me out, get it?”
“Got it.” Sam smiled, happy for his brother. It was good to know he had someone with him. Then he grimaced.
“What? Finally realized your green tea tastes like dirt?” Gabriel asked, seeing Sam’s expression.
“No, I just realized that my brother’s sex life is the most exciting bit of news I’ve had all day.” He took another sip of tea, suddenly wishing sincerely for something stronger.
Gabriel pondered that for a moment, and then grimaced as well and took a long swig of his drink. “You’re right. No more talking - or even thinking - about our brother's sex lives again. I’ll be traumatized. Think I already am, in fact. Thanks for that.”
“My pleasure. And yeah, never to be spoken of again.” Sam raised his glass and Gabriel clinked their glasses together, making it an official pact.
There was comfortable silence for a time and then the archangel sighed. “I am sorry, Sam,” he said, his voice completely sincere for once with no hint of joking.
Sam lifted an eyebrow. “You must be serious because you called me by my actual name.” Anywhere else, he would have thrown holy water to ensure the other being wasn’t possessed.
“Terribly sorry darling, won’t happen again,” Gabriel assured him. “But yeah, I am sorry.”
“Everyone is. Maybe one day it will make me feel better because misery loves company, but I’m not there yet. But I do understand.” Sam put down his tea, needing a change in topic. “And I have a paper that I need to work on, so unless you can give pointers on county judges–”
“Dear dad, do not try to drag me into your human laws anymore than I’m already embedded,” Gabriel said hastily, clearly ready to leave the chat asap. “Last time I tried to give advice, Norway invaded England. It was so not what I was aiming for, I swear!”
“Yeah, yeah, you say that now,” Sam countered easily. He started on a fresh kettle of tea, planning an evening study date with books and laptop. At least he had plenty of time to study. Keep sharp mentally and physically. One day, something would change and he needed to be ready one way or the other.
“I’ll tell Cassie to give you some space tomorrow while you beat Deanbean at gaming,” Gabriel offered.
“Yeah, it would be nice if he sat more than 6 inches away, and he can lay off the pity looks. I was mentally bracing for him to offer a pitty fuck one of these days but since it’s confirmed he’s with Dean, I honestly feel safer now.”
Gabriel laughed, choking on his drink, spitting fruity booze and liquid that Sam knew he would be cleaning up. “Uh huh. Your virtue is safe, Samsquath, and besides, you’re both taken,” the angel said when he could talk again.
“Um, yeah,” Sam shrugged, not really listening, distracted by the damn complicated tea kettle with a built-in filter for fresh tea leaves. It had taken him days to be comfortable with it, thoroughly intimidated when it appeared one day in the kitchen with a 10 page instructional manual. You would think just add water and plug in, but no. And here he had thought perfectly adequate tea came in bags with microwave hot water. At least it wasn’t the coffee maker. After nearly two years he still had a rather nervous truce with that beast. Even Dean regarded it with wary respect when he visited in the mornings, and had actually thrown holy water at it more than once.
“Okey-dokey. See you later, kid-wonder lawyer,” Gabriel said, standing up. There was an honest smile on his face. “Make me damn proud on that paper. And remember, you owe me one for the low-down on our idiot brothers.”
“Like hell I do” Sam assured the archangel sarcastically, but with a small smile. He did appreciate the spontaneous visit as they added variety to his day, but damned if he owned anything for intel he already 80% knew. Gabriel disappeared with a wave, and Sam headed back to the library.
A couple hours later he decided it was time to turn in when even the fancy green tea wasn’t keeping him terribly alert. But again, he had plenty of time every day; it wasn’t like he had to juggle work or a real life with school. He had plenty of time to study. And no hunting made a huge difference as well, of course. At times, Sam could almost believe he was back during those four special years at Stanford that he now knew he had been granted by some blessing. Normal time, a mostly typical college student to all appearances, a brilliant and lovely girlfriend that he’d had every intention of making a life with, normal friends, everything.
And he knew he was pursuing his law degree with a single minded focus with Jess and others in mind in their honor. It was for Dean, their Dad, Bobby, and himself, of course, but even more it was to honor the belief that Jess had had in him. The confidence that this socially awkward, lanky giant, with some mysterious past he wouldn't talk about, would succeed and be a good partner to her.
He cursed Azarell everyday of his life and always would.
It was just past 10 pm when Sam settled into bed with a book and cup of relaxing tea. He deliberately left a window open so he could hear the rain, relishing the difference. It had been a very good day, by his standards anymore. A fine meal and visit with Dean, good progress on his law paper, even a surprise visit from Gabriel with gossip that honestly made Sam smile and laugh a little. He would count it as a success.
And tomorrow would be mostly wash, rinse, and repeat. Different conversation with Dean, Castile as the chaperone, promised Halo game time, but still, in his cage as always. So he had to stay strong.
He set his alarm clock - something he’d had to specifically ask for. Neither Castiel or Gabriel had understood at first that he needed the alarm to keep on a schedule - didn’t Sam have leisure to do as he wished when he wished? But it had quickly been provided, and Sam deliberately set it to wake him up at the same time every morning to keep on his exercise and study schedule. He would keep himself ready.
He smiled as the lights turned off before he could reach the switches, confirming yet again his suspicion that angel mojo spells or such watched him. He expected it, and truly didn’t mind anymore. Thinking of ways to outwit them kept him entertained. He turned back on the lights, and watched in amusement as the lights were clearly uncertain what to do when Sam laid down in bed; did he want the lights on or off while he slept? The spells seemed to decide to play it safe, and the lights directly around his bed turned off, but those in the bathroom suite and closet stayed on.
“The spells are to keep you safe, and serve you,” Michael had explained the first day. “Anything you want or need, just ask, and they will be provided. They are your servants.”
“I want my freedom back,” Sam raged, and the highest archangel shook his head.
“Not even I can provide that,” he said honestly.
So Sam entrained himself with playing games with invisible spells about light switches, battling coffee makers, and learned all he could about election laws. He kept as sharp as possible mentally and psychically. There was no promised end to his time in the cage, but he would never lose hope.
Even if it took an eternity.