Freckles

A Story by kingcrowley

A short supernatural sabriel (Sam Winchester x Gabriel) fanfic

Sam could hardly bear living anymore. He’d been through so much pain and suffering, through the trails to shut the gates of hell, through the countless times he let his loved ones down, but he had to put his game face on for Dean. He never could show how upset he was, never could let it be known how much he wanted to die or he’d worry his older brother. He lived with a hollow smile on his face, a ghost of what had once been Sam.

That is, until Gabriel had shown back up one day, on the doorstep of their crappy motel for the night. He’d been such a sight for Sam’s sore eyes, and he had held him for a very long time that night after Dean had gone to bed, and Gabriel had held him back, whispering softly about how much he had missed his sasquatch. Sam hadn’t asked how his angel had returned, he didn’t care. He was just relieved and beyond happy. Dean wasn’t his only reason to live anymore, and in fact Gabriel had told him if he died, he’d just drag his a*s right back there.

And sometimes Sam would still cry. Gabriel would embrace him, looking extra small with that giant of a man sitting on his lap, wrapped around him. He would stroke Sam’s hair, and tell him, “It’s okay, Sammy. I have you. Nothing can hurt you now.” Sam would bury his face in Gabriel’s neck and sigh, finally feeling better now that he’d gotten everything out. Gabriel would kiss him somewhere; the cheek, the forehead, anywhere he deemed to be the ‘right spot’.

Sometimes, Sam would get sad again, relapse into depression and want to give up after an especially bad day. He would wish the monster of the day had gotten him and ended it right there. And Gabriel wasn’t always there, for an angel was not at a human’s beck-and-call, though he tried to be for Sam as best as he could. Sometimes Sam had nowhere to turn.

But sometimes, in the absence of his angel, when he was feeling bad, Sam would go into the bathroom, and he’d lean over the counter to stare into the mirror. He’d look over his new freckles, the ones made from angel kisses. He would try to count them and fail miserably, but it was a nice failure because it meant the kisses they shared were far too great in number to measure. Sam would run his finger over some of them, remembering how Gabriel had pressed his lips gently against him, and he would smile because the archangel seemed to love him, because he felt important, and suddenly he wasn’t so sad anymore.