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"Grief makes one hour ten." -William Shakespeare
On the list of the many things that Sam missed about living a ‘normal life’, or as normal as he could ever hope to achieve, owning a dog definitely ranked near the top of the list. The two times in his life that he actually owned a dog for a significant period of time had both been cut short by different circumstances. So when his relationship with Gabriel progressed and deepened to the point to where they were talking about moving in together and picking out some curtains, Sam couldn’t have been happier to learn that Gabriel’s little dog would be joining them.
When Gabriel first took Sam to the little apartment where he kept his dog, he warned Sam in the doorway, “She doesn’t like strangers, so you stand a very strong chance of having your ankles bitten. Consider yourself warned.”
To his surprise, the little Jack Russell ran right up to the door when they entered, greeting Gabriel first with a wagging tail before turning to Sam. The dog gave a whine and hopped on her hind legs, trying to paw at Sam’s leg and lick his hands. Sam laughed, leaning down and offering his hand for the eager little pup to sniff and lick. Gabriel’s brows shot up. Well, that was an unexpected turn of events.
“Well, fuck me sideways. She actually likes you,” he said.
Sam wiped the dog slobber on his jeans as the dog bounced about, looking up at the men with warm, expectant brown eyes.
“I guess so,” Sam agreed with a laugh. “What’s her name?”
“Trixie.”
At the sound of her name, Trixie yipped and leapt up into her owner’s waiting arms, planting wet kisses on his neck. Spluttering, Gabriel tried to lean away from the barrage of kisses with no avail.
“Trixie?” Sam repeated with uncertainty. Gabriel being Gabriel, Sam would have expected something sillier and much more outlandish.
“Yeah. Trick-sy. Get it? Because I was a Trickster?” Gabriel looked far too amused with himself as he placed the wiggling ball of fur back on the ground. Sam sent Gabriel a Look in return, silently berating himself for giving Gabriel too much credit too soon.
“It kinda just makes you sound like Gollum. Tricksy little dogses,” he teased, watching as Trixie hurried out of the room, presumably to engage in some mischief of her own.
With a snort, Gabriel reached up and tugged on the collars of Sam’s shirt, and Sam allowed himself to be dragged down until their faces were close enough for him to see the flecks of gold in Gabriel’s eyes. When Gabriel spoke, his lips softly brushed Sam’s with each word. “You’re a humongous dork.”
The retort Sam had ready was smothered in a bruising kiss that left no room for thought and words.
~~
While it was no secret that Sam loved dogs, he honestly preferred large dogs – ones that he could wrestle with and use as a pillow. Thus, it surprised him how much he grew to love the little ball of spunkiness that was Trixie. What she lacked in size, she made up for in energy and heart; and really, the similarities between her and Gabriel were not lost on Sam. Trixie never seemed to run out of energy, even when her muzzle began to turn grey with age, always up for a game of fetch in the park or learning new tricks, like how to roll over and play dead. And every time that Sam came home from a bad day of work, frustrated and exhausted, Trixie would curl up with him in bed and offer supportive cuddles until Sam couldn’t help but smile. And honestly, coming home to Gabriel and Trixie left Sam happier than he had been in years.
Two blissful years passed before things took a downhill turn.
Sweat dripping down his face after a good run, Sam chugged a large glass of water in the kitchen while Gabriel cooked dinner. The smell of meat cooking was like a smoke signal for Trixie (sometimes literally, as Gabriel usually burned something at least once a week), and the sound of her little claws tapping against the linoleum indicated her imminent arrival. Sam put his now empty glass in the sink and turned to smile at the little dog. But when she rounded the corner and entered the kitchen, Sam’s smile fell from his face, his brows frowned in concern. Though her tail was waggy and her eyes as bright as ever, she walked slower than usual and with a distinct limp.
“S’matter, girl?” Sam leaned down and carefully reached for Trixie’s front right leg, not wanting to frighten or hurt the poor dog. Trixie allowed the touch, tail still wagging a little as Sam brushed his fingers over her leg. No sign of swelling, and she didn’t cry out in pain or turn away, which were good signs, he figured.
Gabriel turned away from the stove, frowning. “What’s wrong?”
As if knowing she was being addressed, Trixie meandered her way over to Gabriel, sitting on by his feet with her best begging face. Gabriel’s frown increased when seeing her limp.
Sam straightened with a shrug. “I dunno. She’s limping, but it doesn’t seem like she’s in pain.”
There was a moment where Gabriel and Trixie simply looked at each other, as if holding a silent conversation all of their own. Once apparently satisfied, Gabriel gave her a pat on the head and turned back to the food. “Eh, she probably twisted something when running. I’ll keep an eye on it.”
Though his tone was casual, Gabriel remained rigid and quiet during the rest of his cooking.
~~
Trixie’s limp lessened over the next few days, and Sam thought nothing more of it, writing it off as an accident. But over the course of a few weeks, other peculiar problems gradually came to light.
Living in a two-story house instead of a little apartment had always thrilled Trixie, who greatly relished running up and down the stairs. But lately, she had taken to moving slower around the house and taking each step carefully. Some nights, she gave up after climbing half of the stairs, simply sitting and whining until Sam or Gabriel carried her up the remainder of the steps. Sam didn’t bring the issue up with Gabriel, not at first. He knew how much Trixie meant to Gabriel, and to even suggest that something might be wrong could cause his lover to panic.
But when Trixie started shaking and heavily panting near the beginning of her morning walk, Sam couldn’t stay silent any longer. Later that evening, when Gabriel was sprawled out across Sam’s lap as Trixie gnawed on a bone on the floor, Sam cleared his throat and decided to go for it.
“Have you noticed that Trixie has been kinda slower lately?”
Gabriel tipped his head up on Sam’s lap so their eyes could meet, a too-tight smile plastered on his face “Whatddya mean?”
This already wasn’t going well. Sam shifted a bit, tried to gather his thoughts. “Like, she’s not as energetic and she has problems going up and down the stairs. And um, today on her walk, she got kinda sick. She started shaking.”
Gabriel tensed in Sam’s lap. “Oh.”
When Gabriel did not elaborate, Sam carefully pressed forward. “How old is she, anyway?”
“Mm, I guess about fourteen now,” Gabriel said, using that falsely casual tone again. Sam’s brows shot up to the sky.
“Fourteen? Maybe we should take her to the vet. She’s kinda old,” Sam said, and Gabriel bristled in Sam’s lap like an irritated cat.
“I took her two months ago and she was fine,” Gabriel snapped. He must have regretted the harsh words as soon as he uttered them, as he reached up to stroke Sam’s cheek with a softer expression. “She’s a trooper, Sam. Just because she’s getting older doesn’t mean that something is wrong. It will take more than age to break her. She’s a tough cookie.”
Gabriel sounded so confident that Sam almost believed him.
~~
Like most Jack Russells, Trixie did possess a certain hardiness to her. Despite her increasing arthritis, she still enjoyed playing with her favorite ball in the park and would beg for scraps and eat like a horse. And for a while, it was easy to believe that Gabriel had been right. Age certainly did not seem to be destroying Trixie any time soon.
But a month later, things took another turn.
On a lazy Sunday morning, Gabriel and Sam were enjoying late breakfast in the kitchen when Trixie wandered in, only to immediately bump into the table. Gabriel leaned down to give her a pet.
“What are you doing, silly?” Trixie blinked up, and Sam could tell that something in her eyes didn’t seem quite…right.
“I…don’t think she saw the table.”
Gabriel fell silent. When he reached down to pet her again, he murmured words in Enochian that Sam could not understand. Catching himself speaking the language of angels when he had long since lost his grace, Gabriel cut off in the middle of his sentence, his hand falling off of Trixie’s head in sad defeat. Sam did not inquire about the significance of that moment, not when he saw the pain in Gabriel’s eyes.
Her sight worsened over the next two weeks, unable to see certain furniture or when food was being offered to her. Although Sam used to let her run off her leash, he now ensured that she was always on a leash whenever they went on their walks, not wanting her to wander into something that she could not see. Trixie would tug on her leash if she caught wind of another animal or other interesting smell on their walks, and Gabriel would quietly tell her no, she couldn’t go chase it, and pretend that his heart did not break at her sad little whines as she continued walking.
Her sense of smell followed soon after. No longer did she come running when Gabriel or Sam cooked dinner, and when pieces of delicious food were waved in front of her face, she didn’t even lean in for a sniff; Gabriel would have to brush the food against her muzzle for her to really notice it.
But even with her senses failing her, Trixie had, for the most part, still retained her happy-go-lucky, spastic personality. It was when she began to lose that, her very essence, that Sam knew that they were reaching the beginning of the end.
Trixie’s gradual decline became nothing less than heart wrenching to witness. The once hyper, wily pup had become sluggish, preferring to spend her days sleeping in her dog bed rather than chasing squirrels. Sam could freely keep his feet under the table without fear of having his toes being licked or hearing a whine in begging; Trixie had all but lost interest in the kitchen. And while Trixie might not necessarily be in pain, Sam couldn’t really be sure if she was happy or not. Every once in a while there would be a spark of her old self; ears twitching when the ice cream truck came by or a few good barks when a cat wandered through their backyard. But those moments were few and far in between.
At some point, Sam knew that he would have to talk to Gabriel.
~~
The talk came on a night when Trixie refused most of her food, preferring to drink water. Sam watched her hobble off toward the stairs with the barest wag of her tail, all semblances of the spark she once had now faded. Sam placed a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder on his way to the stairs himself, and his lover turned to him with a quirked brow.
“Gabriel,” Sam started, exhaling a hesitant breath. “I don’t think Trixie’s doing so hot.”
“Sam –“
“No, Gabe. I know you want to ignore it, but look at her.” He gestured to the little dog, which was slowly trying to make her way up the stairs. She shuffled up three stairs before taking a break, sitting down on her haunches with a whine.
“She can barely walk, half the time I don’t think she even knows where she’s going or what she’s doing, she’s kinda losing control of her bowls, and, just. I think her time’s coming.”
It wasn’t as tactful or gentle as perhaps it should have been, but Sam had been living alongside with Gabriel’s denial for too long. And Gabriel just glared, just like he always did, but Sam could see the pain and the fear in those golden eyes, and he knew that Gabriel was all too aware of what was happening to his beloved animal.
“I’m doing everything I can for her,” Gabriel said, anger and pain laced in his words. “I’m doing the best I can.”
“I know you are.” Sam drew him in slowly, wrapping his arms around Gabriel’s body and into a soft embrace.
“I’m sorry, but I just don’t want her to suffer,” he murmured into Gabriel’s hair.
Gabriel pulled away, muttering something that Sam couldn’t quite catch. Sam watched in silence as Gabriel climbed the stairs, scooping up Trixie on his way.
When Sam eventually joined him in bed, Gabriel was turned away, holding onto Trixie like it would kill him to let her go. And honestly, maybe that’s what it all came down to in the end.
~~
Over the next week, Gabriel had fallen strangely quiet and withdrawn. He spent most of his time watching Trixie, observing the way she moved with difficulty, the way she would bump into furniture and growl at things that did not exist.
Sam came home one day to Gabriel sitting on the floor, just watching her sleep. Gabriel did not look up when Sam sat beside him, keeping his forlorn gaze on his dog.
“I’m doing everything I can,” Gabriel said, repeating his words from a week prior. Sam just nodded, not trusting himself to speak when this was the most Gabriel had said to him all day.
“I’m doing everything. But it’s not enough, is it.”
Sam could tell that Gabriel was not looking for an answer, so he simply leaned in to press a kiss to Gabriel’s cheek, keeping his forehead pressed to the side of Gabriel’s head as he said, “Sometimes it’s not.”
A tremor ran through Gabriel as his eyes closed, a shaky breath passing from his lips. “It’s hard. It’s hard to let go, Sam.”
Gabriel’s voice was so broken, so near tears that Sam’s heart plummeted to his stomach. He nuzzled into Gabriel’s hair, whispering back, “I know. You’ll know when it’s time.”
They remained there for some time, sitting in silence and listening to the sound of Trixie’s low, ragged breathing.
~~
Gabriel kept a close eye on Trixie the next few days, looking for any major changes in her vitals that would hint that she was suffering.
But in the end, it never came to that.
Gabriel was sitting on the couch, flipping through the TV channels when Trixie wandered up to him. Gabriel greeted her with a smile. “Heya there, Trix.”
He picked her up – had she lost weight? – and settled her on the couch beside him. Trixie shuffled closer, placing her head on Gabriel’s lap. And when Gabriel looked down and met her eyes, those glassy, sad eyes, he knew.
~~
Gabriel scheduled the vet appointment for the next day. Terse and silent, Gabriel made himself scarce around the house, keeping to himself as he kept Trixie as comfortable as possible.
The next morning, Sam watched as Gabriel pulled out the old pet carrier from the closet and placed Trixie’s favorite blanket inside. Alerted by the kennel, Trixie hobbled over to see what the fuss was about, movements as slow as ever. Sam scooped the little girl up and gave her a long cuddle, followed by a kiss.
“Bye girl.”
Sam offered Trixie back to Gabriel, who accepted her in his arms without looking at Sam. Every inch of Gabriel’s face was cold stone, a statue on the verge of breaking. And honestly, Sam did not know how to react it. He was used to Gabriel’s wrath, his bitterness, his sarcastic humor – but not this. Not this broken grief of a man about to lose his best friend.
Sam had offered to join Gabriel to the appointment, but he insisted on going alone. Gabriel boarded Trixie in the kennel, where she left the apartment one final time.
~~
Gabriel returned alone with reddened eyes, closing the door with more force than necessary. Sam, who dozed off on the couch, jerked up, blinking tired eyes as he watched Gabriel drop the carrier by the door. The carrier’s door swung open, empty aside from the blanket. The empty finality of that image left Sam’s blood running cold.
Sam gestured toward Gabriel, but his lover simply shook his head and climbed the stairs without looking at Sam. Their bedroom door slammed shut with a resounding thud.
Gabriel did not resurface for the rest of the day, and Sam allowed him his space, knowing that Gabriel sometimes needed time alone to work out difficult matters like this. But when the sun began to set and there was still no sign of him, Sam opened their bedroom door and peeked inside. Gabriel did not stir, fast asleep in a pile of blankets. Sam curled up in bed beside him, wrapping himself around the smaller body and holding him close through his restless sleep.
~~
They didn’t talk about the vet appointment. In fact, they didn’t talk about much of anything over the next few days. Gabriel was moody and lethargic, refusing to eat unless Sam practically forced it down his throat. He lazed about for most of the day, and when he did walk around, Sam caught him looking in Trixie’s favorite spots – her bed and the kitchen. Old habits died hard, and Gabriel would always open the door and look for her, expecting her to run up to him like she always did. The smile that Gabriel wore for a brief second in hope always faded away into a pained expression
On one of the days, Gabriel seemed to be recovering. He ate a little more than usual and seemed brighter, inquiring about Sam’s latest project at work. But when he found Trixie’s old ball in their bedroom, his face became crestfallen, and he did not speak for the rest of the day.
The worst day was when the cute, sad little card from the vet’s office arrived, inscribed with a message of love and regrets for the loss of a dear pet. Gabriel made this low sound in the back of his throat and disappeared in their room. And from there on out, Gabriel was back in mourning mode: quiet, subdued, lost.
~~
The issue came up during a lunch date with Dean.
“It’s been tough lately, man. We had to put Trixie down,” Sam said, stirring his vegetables with little interest
Dean, who had never liked dogs and certainly did not care for Trixie, made a sound between a grunt and a laugh. “I mean, that sucks, dude.”
Sam rolled his eyes, knowing full well that Dean was not apologetic at all about Trixie’s fate. He stabbed his grilled chicken with vigor. “I just don’t know what to do. Gabriel is practically comatose with grief.”
Dean shrugged, stuffing a few fries in his mouth. “Get him a new dog. Problem solved.”
Sometimes, Sam wondered about Dean’s sense of empathy. “I think that would make it worse. He seems set on grieving for a while.”
“Well, fuck if I know. Make him talk about his feelings or some bullshit.”
Which, honestly, wasn’t a bad idea.
As much as Gabriel liked to avoid talking about his feelings, Sam couldn’t let him go on like this. Thus, he slunk into bed beside Gabriel that night, gently prodding him until Gabriel turned over with a glare. Unperturbed, he took one of Gabriel’s hands in his own and entwined their fingers.
“You can’t stay in bed all day, babe. I know you miss her, and I know it’s hard,” he said.
A flurry of pain and anger washed across Gabriel’s face. “I could have saved her.”
Out of all of the things Gabriel could have said, Sam would not have expected it to be that. “What?”
“If I wasn’t fucking human, I could have saved her. I could have healed her symptoms and she’d be alive right now,” Gabriel snapped, his voice becoming louder the more he rambled. “I failed her by falling.”
Sam’s brows furrowed as he shifted closer. “Being an angel wouldn’t have saved her. I mean, yeah, I guess it would have prevented her from dying a little while longer, but she would have to go eventually. There are some things that you just can’t prevent. You tried to teach me that lesson, a long time ago.”
And oh, bringing up the issues that lingered between them only made Gabriel see even more red, his eyes narrowing into fiery slits.
“You did a piss poor job of listening,” Gabriel said, voice still heated.
Sam refused to rise to the bait. This wasn’t about the issues between them; this was about talking Gabriel out of his self-imposed guilt.
“Yeah, and despite the shit you put me through, I dealt with reality. Besides, you can’t honestly believe that you failed her. She loved you so much, and sometimes love means knowing when to let go,” Sam said.
Gabriel swallowed hard, wet eyes glistening in the little light that poured through their curtains. “I miss her so much.”
And for the first time since her death, Gabriel broke down in front of Sam, who held him all through the night.
~~
The confrontation gave Gabriel a break through in his mourning. Slowly but surely, Gabriel recovered from his depression and regained his sense of snark and vibrant personality. Though he still found himself occasionally relapsing, looking for Trixie in her usual spots as a force of habit, he managed to bounce back from the moments of grief. It was a slow process, but eventually Gabriel was able to find her old toys and laugh from the fond memories instead of wanting to cry. Though it was difficult, he came to learn that letting go did not mean the same thing as forgetting.
And on a shelf in their room stood a little urn with the sympathy card next to it, the remains of the well-loved friend who would never be forgotten.