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It was dark among the rusted, hulking bodies of cars littering the junk yard. From there Sam could see the lights of the house like a beacon. The soft sounds of his friends and family making the most of their last night on earth travelled on the breeze, tickling faintly against his consciousness. Tomorrow they were going to face the devil.
Sam was alone outside in the dark. He’d slipped out quietly. It was late and he knew he wouldn’t be missed. Jo had distracted Dean. Drifting closer as the night waned, a slow orbit, bringing them closer with every pass, his eyes bright from too much whiskey. Sam thought Dean might finally try and act on the long-standing attraction he’d always had for the blonde. If she’d let him.
They’d played this game before, like children play with fire, daring themselves closer, but always darting away, afraid of being burned. Tonight though, for Dean at least, Sam thought that was going to change. What better way to spend your last night on earth than with the one person you never thought you could have? With death looming over them all, and no consequences, what was there to lose? Even as he thought it, he tried not to remember the way the eyes of the angel had also been glued to Dean all night, a startling blue that never wavered in its intensity. Dean was perhaps not the only one thinking of doing something previously forbidden. If he had the chance.
With the tension inside the house, it was easy for Sam to feel like the unwanted fifth wheel. As they danced around each other, with repressed longing, and unrequited feelings choking the air, it left Sam feeling alone. It wasn’t a new feeling. He’d watched them all with a terrible sinking guilt hanging over him. This was his fault. They were going tomorrow to fight the devil and there was a good chance they weren’t coming back. If only he’d never popped that box, none of this would be happening.
Lucifer was free, walking the earth, because Sam hadn’t listened. It was his responsibility to fix it, and it wasn’t a mistake he was going to make twice. It was the real reason he was out here, alone in the dark. If all went according to plan, he wouldn’t be alone for long.
The ritual ingredients were laid out on the rusted bonnet of an old truck. Some part of Sam liked the incongruity, the complete lack of reverence, herbs and ancient symbols etched on rusted metal. Briefly, he considered that the being he was summoning would agree.
Sam lit the match and dropped it into the bowl, reciting the ancient language with the ease of long experience. He was apprehensive about this, unsure if it would work. Of course, he had another method, an ace up his sleeve. He hoped the threat of it would be enough. After all, what good was witness protection if someone was shouting your name across the cosmos?
He didn’t have to wait long. He felt a tingling along the back of his neck, the first sign that he wasn’t alone. A short, dark figure detached itself from the shadow of a truck and made its way into a dim patch of moonlight. Sam could see those familiar gold eyes flashing as he came, and felt the slightest twinge of fear, and something else he didn’t want to name. Awe was reserved for the faithful.
“I should smite you for this Winchester.” The being said dangerously, predatory grace lending weight to the threat as he moved closer.
But Sam was prepared for that.
“You know he’d only bring me back.” Sam said steadily.
Gabriel shrugged dismissively. That small movement seemed to break the figure’s menacing presence, the familiar smirk replacing his deadly expression.
“True. But it would be fun.” He said lightly, digging his hands into pockets of his jacket, striking a more casual pose. He was still dressed in that familiar style, familiar to Sam because it was one he saw in the mirror everyday.
“So, I see you finally worked out the right name to call on. Took you long enough. What finally gave it away?” The angel asked, conversationally.
“Just a hunch. It was easier once I knew who you really were. Gave me something to look for. It’s not like your MO is uncommon. But a god with a cloak of feathers that gave him the power of flight? That one kind of stuck out.” Sam explained, slightly smug, hiding his unease. “Loki? Really? I thought you were hiding out. It’s not exactly under the radar.”
That wrung a wry laugh from the archangel, who gave Sam a mocking smile.
“Best place to hide. In plain site.” He said smoothly before fixing Sam with a hard look.
“What do you want Sam.” He asked harshly, his tone reminding the young hunter of the pain of their last encounter.
“I just want to talk.” Sam reassured.
Odd, that he would need to reassure an archangel, one of heaven’s most terrifying weapons. But Sam had noticed him subtly searching the ground for holy oil, moving carefully, keeping his distance. It spoke of nerves, and that had Sam on edge as well. It would have been a long time since Gabriel had to face someone who actually knew how to hurt him, and that could make him unpredictable.
Gabriel’s face twisted in distaste before settling for wry humour.
“I think we did enough of that last time. I can’t help you Sam.” The archangel said levelly.
“Can’t or won’t?” Sam challenged.
“Both, okay?” Gabriel snapped back.
Then he sighed and ran a hand over his face. It was a tired gesture, and for a moment Sam felt a pang of guilt. This too was his fault. He’d put that weariness onto this being who had always been so bright. In a rare moment of seriousness, those golden eyes met his, and Sam was forcibly reminded of what he was facing. Lightening in a bottle, a being older than his human mind could comprehend and he was looking at Sam now as if he felt the weight of every one of those years. The mocking façade was gone, and for once the pretense was stripped away as he spoke.
“Look Sam, I can curbstomp most suckers out of existence, easy as that.” He emphasized with a snap. “But my big brothers? Mike and Luci would wipe the floor with me. Hell even Raph could slam me back to the dark ages. Even if I could beat them, I can’t kill my brothers.” He admitted.
Sam could see the twisted guilt in his eyes, and knew he was telling the truth. Gabriel truly couldn’t fight them. Maybe that was why he’d been running so hard. And Sam couldn’t ask him to. The casual way he referred to them, the nicknames slipping out, spoke of a brotherhood that Sam could appreciate. If their roles were reversed, if it was Gabriel asking Sam to kill Dean for the sake of the world, he wasn’t sure he could.
But that didn’t mean he couldn’t ask the archangel for help. He easily slipped into a sympathetic attitude as he took half a step toward the angel.
“I get it. I do. And I’m not asking you to. But there has to be some other way to stop this!” Sam exclaimed.
Which of course only annoyed the archangel.
“Don’t you think I’ve looked! You think I want this to happen? But the rides already started and there’s no way off.” Gabriel exclaimed.
“We still have to try.” Sam said stubbornly, before he sighed himself, unconsciously copying Gabriel’s earlier action, running a hand over his face in exhaustion.
“I can’t just sit back and do nothing.” Sam added heavily.
Surprisingly, it seemed to cause the archangel to deflate a little, a hint of shared sympathy in his face.
“I know.” He admitted quietly. “You humans. You just don’t give up do you?”
Sam watched him for a minute. There was something different here this time, less of the Trickster, more the archangel. Even though he’d called for Loki, it was Gabriel who’d shown up. It was the one who’d shown through at the end in mystery spot, the one who’d been trapped in the holy oil. The being who was ancient and sad and angry, the one behind the mask of laughter and mocking smiles. For the first time Sam could truly appreciate the desperation of the being who had made him suffer through his twisted fantasy lands, someone who couldn’t bear to watch his brothers fight.
Sam had tried to hold onto his anger. Both he and Dean had been too upset after tv land to really process what had been said, but in the following days, Sam hadn’t been able to get the interaction out of his head. He’d held a grudge for mystery spot for so long. It had lessened considerably after he worked out its true meaning, too late. Always too late. But the Trickster had tried to warn him about the path he was taking and he hadn’t listened. Now Lucifer was free and the world was ending.
It was that, which allowed him to let go enough to suggest talking instead of fighting when they ran into him the last time. He’d tried to help before, why not again? Of course they knew his answer to that now. And at the time, he’d resented the little archangel for what he’d put them through. But with hindsight, it didn’t seem that bad. He’d never left them with any permanent damage. Dean’s bullet wound had been mysteriously healed between scene changes. It had been confusing, disorientating and uncomfortable, but not really dangerous. Nothing compared to how they’d suffered at the hands of other angels, angels who had truly tortured them. And Sam knew he deserved so much worse.
A game show and a few sitcoms didn’t even come close to what he deserved for what he’d started. He couldn’t blame the angel for hating them, for taking his anger out on Sam especially. And he couldn’t even blame him for wanting it over. That savage desperation just for things to be finished. He truly believed that there was no way to stop this, and Sam had been through enough in life to know that the waiting for the bad thing was always worse.
Thinking that over, Sam realised there was something he hadn’t said yet, something that was long overdue.
“I’m sorry.” He said softly, breaking the silence. Gabriel raised an eyebrow in question.
“I’m sorry, for all of this. You can’t imagine how much. You tried to warn me and I didn’t listen. And I know it doesn’t change anything. But I want you to know that I get it. This isn’t about the end of the world for you. This is family. And I am so sorry.” Sam’s voice broke at the end, but he didn’t care.
He owed the angel at least that much. And it was hardly the first time Sam had cracked in front of him.
Gabriel studied Sam for a moment, taking in the broken expression, the terrible guilt in those hazel eyes, and his own hard expression softened just a little.
“Look kiddo, I know I blamed you before. But all this? This was planned a long time ago. Between heaven and hell yanking your chain, you two chuckleheads never stood a chance. You’re only human.” He finished, mouth twisting in a sardonic smile, but his eyes held just a spark of warmth looking back at Sam.
Sam stared at him in shock for a moment at the forgiveness before he shook his head stubbornly.
“Doesn’t matter. I started this. I have to at least try to stop it.” He said determinedly.
That smile turned a little less sarcastic, and a little more genuine as something almost like affection battled despair in his eyes. It surprised Sam, and it occurred to him, not for the first time, that of all the beings and monsters they’d faced, Gabriel was the one that had almost seemed on their side. He wasn’t a mindless killing machine, driven by instinct or a desire for wanton destruction. He was surprisingly human. His actions, though painful, always served a purpose, and he spoke to them with respect, like they were people, expecting them to function on his level, berating them when they didn’t. Not like the other angels who spoke with condescension and contempt, Cas excepted of course.
Gabriel seemed to snap himself out of his reverie and flashed a smile at Sam.
“So what’s with the party?” He asked.
Sam blinked for a moment, not sure how to respond. Then he followed the direction of Gabriel’s gaze back towards the house, where he could still make out the forms of his family, cast as black shadows against the curtains, the faint sound of music and talking still drifting over. When Sam turned back. Gabriel had moved, drawing a little closer and nodding at the bottle of whiskey Sam had brought out with him.
“Mind if I join you?” The angel asked.
“Why?” Sam queried, confused.
Gabriel shrugged at him.
“Whole world’s going to hell. Why not?” He said glibly.
“Ah sure, I guess? But I thought angels couldn’t get drunk?” Sam stammered, confused by the sudden shift.
“You ever hear that old question, ‘if god is all powerful can he make a rock so heavy he can’t lift it’” Gabriel enquired lightly, popping himself up on a hood next to the bottle. Sam nodded.
“Ah yeh, freshman year, philosophy 101.” He admitted.
“Right, forgot you were a college boy.” Gabriel said approvingly. “Well I prefer ‘Can an archangel make a drink strong enough to get himself drunk?’ and the answer is yes.” He said with a smirk and a snap, conjuring a bottle.
Sam huffed a laugh, and snagged his own bottle from beside the archangel. He leaned hesitantly against the same bonnet beside him, letting a companionable silence fall as they both took a swig of their respective drinks. If someone had told him a week ago he’d be sitting in Bobby’s scrap yard, drinking with the Trickster, he’d have laughed at the absurdity. Now though? Sam had to admit, it was actually kind of nice.
Propped up on the hood where he was, Gabriel was just a little taller than Sam, and he took full advantage, looking down at the hunter for once as he tipped his head towards the remnants of the summoning spell.
“Guess I should thank you for the discretion.” He said easily. Sam shrugged.
“I thought this might go better if I didn’t out you to everyone first.” He said carelessly.
“Still, pretty reckless there Sammy.” Gabriel admonished lightly.
Sam smirked up at him humorlessly.
“Not such a big risk. I’d have killed myself already if I thought it would do any good. They just keep bringing us back.” He said bitterly with a quick glance at the house.
Gabriel knew Sam was perfectly serious about committing suicide, and it sent a strange pang through the archangel. Which was ridiculous. If he thought he could get away with it, he’d have ended the brothers himself, before this whole mess got started. But Dean was proof of how far heaven was willing to go to keep the Apocalypse on track. So instead he focused on the other things he wasn’t saying with that statement.
“No need to sound so bitter about it.” Gabriel admonished lightly. Sam glared at him.
“Yeh, pity our friends don’t get the came courtesy.” Sam muttered.
“You can’t blame yourself for that, kiddo.” Gabriel said softly, placing a tentative hand on the hunters shoulder. He only left it there for a moment, withdrawing quickly.
“So let me guess. You two meatheads have cooked up some kind of plan that’s gonna get your friends killed?” Gabriel asked mockingly, using the conversation as a diversion. It earned him another glare but also some consideration. There was fear in Sam’s eyes, and not fear for himself.
Sam hesitated for a moment. While they’d never considered the possibility, if Gabriel was secretly working with Lucifer, or felt some loyalty to his brother to save him, he shouldn’t tell him about their plan. But on the other hand, while he might not be willing to help, Sam felt the archangel also wouldn’t hinder them.
In the end it was his friends who decided him. Memories fresh in his mind, Jo laughing in the firelight, Ellen putting Bobby in his place, even Castiel and his loyalty to Dean, choosing them over his family and his mission. He couldn’t risk them, not without knowing he’d tried everything he could to keep them safe. Gabriel was a potential source of information if nothing else. He might be able to help them.
“We’re going after Lucifer tomorrow.” Sam admitted. He didn’t bother looking at the angel, he could feel him stiffen beside him. When he did look up, it was into blazing golden orbs that had him pinned with their intensity.
“How?” He forced out that one word, hard and angry, and Sam faltered.
“The colt…”
That was as far as Sam got before Gabriel threw his head back, laughed harshly, with no true amusement, the sound ringing off metal on all sides.
“The colt.” He said disbelievingly. “You think something like that works on Lucifer?” Gabriel admonished.
Sam floundered, not able to make a reply.
“Here’s how that’s gonna work out. Maybe you’ll get lucky, get close enough to use it. And maybe, if Lucifer’s feeling indulgent, you might even get a shot off. But you know what’ll happen? Nothing. He’ll pat you on the head, tell you it was worth a try, and then make maracas out of your friends.” Gabriel said, completely deadpan, and Sam felt a chill as he realised that Gabriel was serious.
Sam’s shoulders hunched down, and he pulled into himself even more. He’d hated the idea of putting their friends at risk. But he’d thought they at least had a chance. All their efforts had been centered on getting the shot off. They’d never considered that even if they did succeed at pulling this off, it might all be for nothing.
He’d been keeping it together with that faint shred of hope for the colt, and without it, despair sank its claws back in. Gabriel saw the change, saw the hope, fragile as it was, completely abandon the young hunter and he regretted the harshness of his words. He couldn’t spare Sam from this, needed to make him understand the futility of facing Lucifer with a weapon that wouldn’t work. But he supposed he could have been nicer about crushing what little was left to sustain him.
Gabriel reached out and drew the hunter in closer, pulling him against his side, offering comfort through touch. Surprisingly Sam went willingly, leaning easily against the angel.
“I guess it was stupid to think it would work.” Sam said, hopelessly.
Gabriel surprised them both by shaking his head.
“Not stupid kid. Human.” Gabriel said truthfully.
“I don’t know how much longer we can keep doing this.” Sam admitted, voice barely above a whisper. It was something he’d never admit to Dean. He wasn’t tempted by Lucifer. No matter how persistent, he was still the Devil and Sam was still the one who let him out. Saying yes wasn’t an option. But he didn’t know how much longer he could keep getting out of bed, how much longer he could keep pretending with Dean that they could make a difference.
Sam looked up into amber eyes, now startlingly close, and forced himself to meet them steadily. He froze when Gabriel raised a hand to brush his hair back, just the lightest of touches skimming his face. The warmth and compassion in that gaze reminded Sam of the paintings, of the ideal that he used to believe in, of angels who were both warriors and saints, filled with benign compassion, as well as divine grace. Sam knew what he was and what he’d done. Angels knew what he was. Abomination. But he could find no trace of that in his gaze, couldn’t see the disgust that had become so familiar.
“I know it’s tough kid. Hell, I was the one telling you to give up.” He sighed wearily, dropping his eyes to stare at his hand for a moment, Sam frozen, waiting.
“You want someone to blame for this mess, blame me. Or Michael, or hell, blame dear old dad. He’s the one who started it.” Gabriel said bitterly.
“Why would I blame you?” Sam asked, quietly prompting.
“I knew what was coming. I could have done something. But I was too busy protecting my own skin, hiding out to keep Big Brother from finding me. Still am.” He added firmly.
"I’m not a hero Sam, never have been. Your brother was right, I’ve always been a coward, from the very beginning. I started running a long time ago and I never tried to stop. I don’t want to stop. I’ve seen what happens to heroes. There wasn’t a one of them that got to be happy. It always ends bloody.” He said softly.
Sam found himself shaking his head slowly, frowning in disagreement.
“Maybe they didn’t get to be happy. But they believed in something more important. They were willing to die for it.” Sam equally soft.
Gabriel took a deep, unnecessary breath and Sam could tell he was forcing himself to meet Sam’s bewildered gaze.
“True. But we weren’t built for faith Sam, because we know. I’ve seen the face of my Father, fought by his side, played games with Him and my brothers. Faith was never necessary. The grand design, from the very beginning of creation, I know because I was there. I watched it happen. I saw every one of those lights flick on.” He said, nodding up to the sky above them, the stars cold pinpricks of light against the dark.
Sam couldn’t respond, too lost in awe as he followed Gabriel’s gaze to the sky. It put his certainty into perspective; how the archangel could be so sure there was no avoiding the fight. That small defiant voice, the anger burning inside Sam had been demanding another way, a choice, a way out. But even that had been silenced; guttering out with the hope he had been holding onto with the colt. But as the despair threatened to overwhelm him, the angel spoke again as they both kept their faces turned upwards towards the sky.
“But then you guys came along.” Gabriel said, louder this time, just a curl of his familiar humour twisting through his words, and Sam felt his chest lighten just a little.
“You humans. You weren’t just built for faith, you claimed it and made it your own. It’s in everything you do.” Gabriel continued, sounding almost affectionate.
Sam couldn’t help scoffing a little.
“You’re arguing for religion? Can’t say you’re gonna convert me on that one. Not since this all started. And people have done some pretty awful stuff in the name of religion.” Sam argued, but Gabriel shook his head dismissively.
“That’s a horse of an entirely different colour. Although, it’s not all bad. We survive this, I’ll take you to the Sistine Chapel sometime. No, I don’t just mean faith in God, or well, in me even. I’ve seen worship as an archangel and as a god, and it’s not the same. I’m talking about real faith. Sure sometimes that’s Dad, but it’s other things too. Like the faith you have in your brother, or your friends in there. Or hell, even your guns. You treat them right and you have faith they’ll protect you.” Gabriel explained, becoming more animated as he warmed to this theme.
Sam still looked at him skeptically.
“I don’t get what this has to do with Lucifer.” Sam said flatly. While he was enjoying the discussion, appreciating the distraction, that’s all it was. A distraction.
“This isn’t about him Sam. This is about you.” Gabriel replied.
“Still trying to teach me a lesson?” Sam scoffed but Gabriel ignored him.
“You have faith in people Sam. You don’t just see the bad, you see the good too, even in the monsters. If anyone’s going to find a way to beat him, it’s you.” Gabriel added quietly.
“What? Why me?” Sam said startled. All this talk of faith and humanity, Sam had never suspected the angel had faith in him. He’d have thought if there was anyone to bet on it would be Dean. He practically wrote the book on stubborn, and from what he’d said in that future vision, Sam had folded after a few months. Dean was still fighting years later.
“Because despite everything trying to manipulate you into it, Dean might be too much like Michael, but you? You’re nothing like Lucifer, Sam.” Gabriel admitted honestly.
It felt like a benediction, coming from the angel. It was one of Sam’s greatest fears. That Lucifer was right, that they were the same. But if there was anyone who would know, it would be Gabriel. The archangel knew Lucifer better than almost anyone. And he knew Sam. Even the hunter was willing to admit that. After all that time spent in mystery spot, Sam had come to know the Trickster very well. He’d spent months hunting the guy, tracking him down, every record, every encounter. He even knew the guys favourite brand of candy. He would be foolish not to think the angel had been watching him too.
But he couldn’t believe it. He was still waiting for the trick. Not long ago, Gabriel had been cheerfully trying to shepherd them into their roles and now, he was claiming he had faith in him. In Sam.
Sam huffed a sudden laugh and the archangel looked at him quizzically, expression hovering right on the edge of hurt that Sam would be laughing at him. Sam didn’t bother to correct him, just shook his head.
“I thought I had the prize of ‘worst decision ever’, but I think I might just hand it over to you.” Sam said with grim humor. “I’m a junkie who makes bad choices. How could you possibly have faith in me?”
If Sam expected the angel to be angered by his comments, he was disappointed. Instead Gabriel smirked back at him.
“Come on Sam, even Dean knows that wasn’t your fault. The thing is, they’ve been underestimating you at every turn. Both of you. They just don’t know how to deal with humans. Zach should have been your biggest clue. They say jump, they’re expecting you ask how high. They didn’t expect a bunch of snark and Winchester brand belligerency.”
“So go tell Dean all this crap. He’s the one with the attitude problem.” Sam snapped, tired for once again being lumped in with his brother. Normally, it didn’t bother him. They were a team, Winchesters against the world. But now, he realised he was almost letting himself believe it, again, that he might not just be the screw up little brother, that maybe someone saw him instead of the shadow Dean, and didn’t find him totally wanting. But he should have known better. After all, the angels had always fawned over Dean, treating Sam like a barely tolerated stain in the room. Why would Gabriel be any better?
But Gabriel shook his head.
“Dean’s a little too much like Michael, even with the attitude. But you Sam, you’re the anomaly in all this. Despite everything trying its best, you’re still too good. You care too damn much. He might like to pretend to understand people, but he doesn’t care about them.” Gabriel argued, glaring at the hunter, as if daring him to contradict him.
Sam shook his head. He knew what he’d done. He’d been trying so hard to do the right thing, to save Dean, to save the world. Every time he tried to do something for himself, every time he thought he’d found something of his own, it was taken away. Jess should have been enough for him to get the message, but Madison, Ruby, even Sarah in her own way. He’d tried to be normal, and ended up back in the Impala beside Dean, gun tucked into his jeans, on his way to spill more blood, burn more bones. He’d tried to stop Lilith and ended up with Lucifer instead. His life was littered with mistakes, all from trying to prove that he could take a stand, do the right thing, without Dean.
So no, Sam didn’t believe a word Gabriel said. He wasn’t a good person. A good person would have listened, would have stopped. Even Chuck had tried to tell him, but he hadn’t wanted to believe it. A good person wouldn’t have let Lucifer out of his cage. And they definitely wouldn’t have felt that curl of almost longing in his dreams when he faced the devil, when Lucifer listened to him with sympathy and understanding.
Sam tried to protest, but Gabriel only glared harder.
“I can’t say I’m betting on you Sam. I don’t even know if there is another way. But I do know this. You’re not what you were supposed to be. So yeh, if anyone’s going to change destiny, it’s you.” Gabriel said firmly.
For a moment, a Sam looked up at him, he could actually see the faith shining in the golden eyes and it was almost too much for him to bear. It was the same faith he saw in Castiel whenever he looked at Dean. He didn’t know how Dean did it, how he didn’t crumple under the weight of it. What had the ever done to earn the faith of angels?
But even as he denied it, he wanted it. Wanted to be worthy of it. He stood a little taller, tilted his head back and took a deep breath. The despair that had been overwhelming him was pulled back. He didn’t know if it was by design or not, though some part of him suspected it was, but whatever Gabriel’s intentions, he’d given something for Sam to hold onto. Maybe they didn’t have a weapon that could kill the devil. At least not yet. But if Sam had to kill every demon, monster and hell spawn from the pit, then so be it. If he wasn’t determined not to say yes before, he definitely was now. It was amazing what a little faith could do.
So instead of protesting, Sam smiled up at the archangel.
“Thank you. Even if you’re not serious. Thank you.” He said quietly.
Gabriel dismissed him with a shrug.
“Probably shouldn’t be thanking me kiddo. It’s still not much help in a fight.” Gabriel admonished, but Sam replied with a shrug of his own.
“You don’t want to start a fight you know you can’t win. It’s ok, I get it. And you already helped. Now we know not to try and go after him with the colt. You probably just saved our lives.” Sam said lightly.
After hearing Gabriel’s explanation, he didn’t actually feel like trying to convince the archangel to die for them.
“Just, make me a promise ok?” Sam asked.
Gabriel eyed him carefully, but didn’t respond, waiting.
“Keep looking. Even if you think it’s impossible. Just, do it anyway.” Sam demanded.
Gabriel was silent before he nodded.
“I can do that. Not sure what you’re hoping to find. But I’ll keep looking. Maybe Death will know something when he pops up. He’s been around even longer than me.” Gabriel mused, looking distracted.
Sam nodded once, refusing to be thrown off by the almost casual way Gabriel spoke about the horseman. Of course, Sam should have known Gabriel would be used to dealing with entities and deities well beyond the Winchester’s usual scope. Even with the constant reminders, Gabriel’s casual ease and familiarity made it hard for Sam to really grasp that he was talking to an archangel.
“I better get back inside, let them know the plans out.” Sam said finally, breaking another long silence.
“Guess I shouldn’t be caught hanging around here. Think of my reputation.” Gabriel joked, though he actually looked surprised by Sam’s answering grin.
“I’m more worried about ours.” Sam replied.
Gabriel huffed a small laugh, winking in response. He pushed himself off the bonnet, landing neatly beside the hunter, and Sam was once again reminded just how small the archangel was.
“See you around Sammy.” Gabriel called, already retreating into the shadows.
“I hope so.” Sam murmured into the darkness, the angel already gone on silent wings.
It wasn’t until the hotel that Sam saw Gabriel again. It had taken a huge argument and Ellen’s good sense to stop Dean from going to Carthage anyway, despite Gabriel’s warning, but eventually he’d been brought around. The colt had still been useful, saving their lives more than once. Between stolen angel blades, Ruby’s knife and the colt, the Winchester’s were prepared to face almost anything.
But a room full of pagan gods still proved too much, even for an archangel. It wasn’t until Sam saw Gabriel facing Lucifer and that final fleeting glance that Sam realised that Gabriel was proving himself wrong. He didn’t know what had changed, didn’t know when Gabriel had finally decided he’d found something worth sacrificing for. But Sam knew, as he watched the final farewell, porn turned suicide note, that he wasn’t going to let it go to waste. Gabriel had had faith in him, and now he’d handed Sam the weapon he needed to take Lucifer down. And in the end, it was enough.