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Gabriel had promised himself that he would look after the Winchester brothers, especially Sam, after meeting them at Crawford Hall, so what was he doing at one of the many Norse God strategy meetings? Well, Thor had invited Gabriel to attend and then promised to keep the meetings brief because he knew “Loki” had little, to no patience. This meeting, however, was already just hitting the one hour mark and Gabriel was getting antsy.
Gabriel hummed to himself, bouncing his right leg under the table he sat at and tuned out as Thor rambled on about what they would do in case of the Norse Apocalypse. A nervous messenger appeared at the door frame, and all of the Gods – minus Gabriel – looked at him.
“I-I’m sorry to interrupt, my majesties, but Sam Winchester” – Gabriel perked his head up at the mention of the Sasquatch and actually “turned his ears on” as Thor would have said – “is dead.”
Gabriel clenched the table with his hands so hard that he actually left dents in it from his fingers… and was he hyperventilating as well? The answer appeared to be ‘yes’ when a God next to him conjured and handed him a brown paper bag. Gabriel took his time breathing into the bag as the Gods turned to him for an explanation.
When Gabriel had calmed down, he set the paper bag on the table. “I’ve met him.” He said.
The Gods turned to look at each other and then back to Gabriel.
Gabriel sighed. “He seemed like a good kid, really. Hunted the supernatural with his brother. Hell, they even tried hunting me once.” The Gods chuckled at “Loki” trying to make the situation lighter. “But, as it turns out, he’s Lucifer’s True Vessel for the Christian-Judeo Apocalypse.” His expression turned grim.
Thor met his gaze. “Does that make him a bad person?”
“Of course not!” Gabriel said, his voice rising slightly. He took a deep breath to calm himself. "It’s Heaven and Hell pulling his strings. And his brother’s. They’re just beginning to get the pieces in place for Lucifer and Michael’s True Vessels.”
“How do you know about all of this?” A God commented from the left of him.
“I have my sources,” Gabriel said and paused for a moment. “I’m going to leave now actually, too. It was dragging on a little too long for my liking.”
Gabriel stood up from his seat and walked toward the messenger still standing in the doorway, his mind a bit foggy. Gabriel put a hand on his shoulder and dragged him away from the room.
“So,” Gabriel said, walking with the young boy, “I need to know: where is his body?”
“I – what?” The boy asked stunned. They turned into a room with many screens monitoring humanity.
“Sam Winchester’s body. Do you know where Dean left it before he went off to the crossroads?” Gabriel knew about all of this happening, he just hadn’t known about the exact timing until now.
“Right.” The boy said, and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. He jotted down the coordinates.
“Thanks,” Gabriel smiled weakly at the boy, and then zapped himself to the location.
Upon arriving, the first thing he saw was Sam’s limp, dead body laid on a raised mattress.
“Really?” He mused to himself. The next time he had a run-in with Dean, he would make sure to reprimand him for leaving Sam’s body to rot on a mattress.
The next thing he knew, Sam was sitting up straight, gasping for air.
“Dean?” He called hoarsely, before turning to see The Trickster. “You!” He called accusingly.
Gabriel flung his arms up in defense, placing them on his chest in mock surprise. “Me!” He replied, trying to imitate the same tone.
“You – you’re supposed to be dead! What are you doing here?” Sam asked, trying to scramble off the sort-of-bed, but fell over onto the floor. He winced in pain.
Gabriel walked over to him and helped him back onto the mattress. Sam winced in pain again as he sat and leaned down against the frame.
“I’m not here to hurt you, Sam,” Gabriel said and rotated his wrist in a three-sixty and then a glass of water appeared in it. He handed it to Sam, who took it with caution.
Sam looked from the water back up to Gabriel. Gabriel rolled his eyes. “I didn’t poison it. Don’t you think if I wanted to kill you, it would have been something more creative?”
“I – yeah, you’re right,” Sam said. He took a swig of the water.
He reached out to hand back the glass when he winced in pain again. Gabriel snapped his fingers and the glass went from Sam’s hand to a small table next to the couch. He then used magic to position Sam to lay on his stomach across the bed.
“What’re you—” Sam started to ask before Gabriel lifted up the back of Sam’s shirt with one hand and then placed the other on the remnants of the stab wound. Sam had expected the touch to hurt, but instead felt a rush of warmth.
Gabriel removed his hands, and Sam’s shirt fell back in place as he sat up.
“I haven’t done that in a while,” Gabriel confessed.
Sam smiled shyly. He wanted to look at what exactly Gabriel had done, so he went to stand up but suddenly Gabriel’s hands were on his shoulders, keeping him in place.
“There’re two things I’d like to tell you. First, take good care of yourself, Sam.”
“What?” Sam asked, furrowing his brow in confusion.
Gabriel quickly answered something suitable – he didn’t want Sam to know yet that he actually cared about him. “You know. Eat well. Sleep well. Don’t get yourself killed on hunts. The whole shebang.”
Sam nodded.
“Second, don’t be too hard on your brother.”
“Wait – what?”
“You’ll understand what I mean eventually.” Gabriel finished and removed his hands from Sam’s shoulders.
Sam didn’t want to move anymore anyway. He was so confused by The Trickster’s advice, and that he was actually being nice to him.
Gabriel heard the Impala’s engine getting louder. He picked up the glass still partially filled with water.
“Well, that’s my cue to leave.” He went to snap himself out, when Sam grabbed Gabriel’s wrist containing the glass, being careful not to jostle the glass.
“Can I, maybe, get your name?” Sam asked nervously. “I don’t want to just call you The Trickster, you know?” He used as his reasoning.
Gabriel smiled widely. “Loki.” He offered. Sam loosened his grip, so he pulled back his hand. “See ya later, Samsquatch.” With that, he magicked himself out of the run down shack and back to his apartment.
Sam smiled widely at the spot where Gabriel had been standing and stood up to take a look in a mirror that was hanging next to the door frame. He lifted up his shirt enough to see where the wound would have been. Instead, there was a pink, jagged line, right next to his spine. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Actually, from where the wound was, he should have died.
“Sammy.” Dean breathed out from next to him.
Sam turned to face him, his shirt falling back into place. Dean put the bag of food he was carrying and placed it on the table. Dean hugged Sam tightly, in a way that felt to Sam as though Sam had almost died.