Hi folks! Long time, no update! I've had zero time on my hands lately. So, here's some Supernatural slash and Hurt/Comfort. There'll be a good bit of angst too, so beware if you can't do rape, torture and manly slashy love :) This fic is AU from Swan Song, when Sam took the dive, to be exact. Dean never went to Lisa's, Sam came back with a soul and found his brother, and Cas isn't working with Crowley or battling it out in Heaven.


If this doesn't get any reviews, it won't be continued, so if you want more, let me know!

"Rise and shine, Sammy! Cas' got a job for us to do!"

Sam cracked open a disinterested eyelid to glare at his brother, sipping a coffee at the counter of the crappy motel kitchenette with a trenchcoated angel under his arm. Dean just smirked around his cup before taking another sip.

"You did not have to raise your voice to wake him, Dean."

"That's the point, Cas." Dean grinned at him, making the angel roll his eyes and peck his lips. Sam just snapped his eyes closed again.

It definitely wasn't because he wasn't happy for Dean and Cas – it was about time they got their heads out of their asses and realized they loved each other – but it did hurt. He never got the chance for that. Gabriel was dead. His archangel was dead, and he never told him he loved him. It had been 2 months since they stopped the apocalypse and 6 months since Gabriel's death, but damn did it still hurt.

"Sam, get your ass up, we've got a job."

With a heavy exhale, Sam opened his eyes and sat up, swinging his long legs to the ground. He ran a mammoth hand down his face and glared at his brother.

"What is it?"

"I sensed an angelic aura not far from here, in a long abandoned farmhouse. It was distressed. Very distressed and in need of assistance." Castiel came and sat down across from Sam, his massive blue eyes staring intently into his in that way he did.

"Where is this farmhouse?" Sam wasn't quite sold. The apocalypse had just ended, of course there would be some leftover wandering angels.

"245 Crescent Lake Road." That was pretty close. And it was on their way out of town. He inwardly shrugged, what could it hurt? He looked back to Dean.

"If you're on board, I'm on board." Dean gave a quick, affirming nod and jumped into action.

"Alright. I'll start packing up, we'll hit it on the way outta town."

Cas smiled up at Dean like he held the stars in his eyes and Sam could practically feel his brother's cheeks heat up as he smiled back. Sam chuckled on his way to the shower; his ex-womanizer brother, blushing at the love of a male angel's smile. Things sure had changed.


They took their time loading the impala, for the first time in years, not in a hurry to skip town. The sun was just starting to set as they put the motel in the rear-view mirror, and almost dark when they reached the old farmhouse. It was small and thoroughly dilapidated, in the shadow of a looming barn just behind it.

"Start in the barn, and work our way forward?"Sam proposed as they parked behind the massive structure, out of sight from the road. Dean nodded, locking up the impala as he made his way to the old, rotting door.

The musk of rotting wood hit like a wave as Sam followed into the huge space, Cas following up behind him. Owls and bats hooted and beat their wings in the rafters, and vermin scratched on the floorboards. Haystacks and old firewood lined the walls, but the farther in Sam went, the more off the whole situation seemed to get. Everything seemed so normal, but the pit in his stomach made the place unsettling. His heart dropped to his toes as he looked down at the ground under his feet.


"Sh, Sam. The last thing we need is swarming bats in here."

"But, Dean-"

"God, what?"

"Look down."

Wings. Charred wingprints lay in slapdash, overlapping patterns across the ground. They were everywhere, covering the floor. Sam looked around the room like someone ripped a blindfold off.

That smell of wood rot wasn't just wood rot, now he could smell the holy oil and bloody iron. Rust colored stains made splotches over every surface, and Sam staggered back like he was stepping on a fresh grave, only to trip on the long chains of iron cuffs hooked into the walls from every side. He stumbled back, colliding with the wall of the barn, where a loose board fell away to a knife collection that rivaled the impala's trunk , only covered in long dried blood and surrounded with beautiful different colored feathers.


"W-what?" he sputtered and coughed back to reality like he was drowning. Sam had seen some terrible stuff, but this was just too cruel. Dean sounded just as strained.

"There's a car battery and some jumpers over here. Bull whip, too. Some sick puppy's messin' with some angel's in the worst way-"


The angel came scrambling out of the darkness, running to Dean and slamming into his arms. Dean wasted no time, wrapping his arms around the only angel he could, while Castiel babbled on about circles of extinguished holy fire and massive stores of holy oil and a bloodstained angel blade and strong grace bindings.

"We have to find who did this, Dean, and we have to save the angel still here."

"Cas, there's one still here? In here?"

"Just one. Up at the house. I can't tell who, it's weak, but I can feel them." Cas looked up at the brothers, sad and determined and angrier than Sam had ever seen him.

"Okay," Dean said resolutely "let's get out of this hellhole and get that angel."

The house wasn't in quite the shambles that the barn was- and definitely not abandoned. There were fresh tire tracks in the dirt outside and food in the old, cobwebbed icebox. It was dirty and grimy, but some sick son of a bitch had to live here. Notes, research, "experiments", and even photos lay on every surface, covering the walls and spreading across furniture and the floor. Sam felt his lip curl in disgust as he moved deeper into the house behind Dean and Cas. Whoever lived here was currently out, but that didn't mean that they had a lot of time to save this angel, and the brothers followed Cas like cops and a bloodhound across the creaky floorboards.

It must've been a bedroom at one point, but it was covered in blood and grime and pain made the air thick in the dingy room. A mattress lay in the center of the place with a heavy iron headboard propped up behind it, not even connected. Blood spattered the walls, new and old, and beautiful, golden feathers littered the floor, and it reeked of sex, iron, and pain. There was an angel-shape silhouetted by the scratchy looking sheet on the mattress. Sam's heart broke as he traced the petite frame with his eyes, landing on the one bit of skin and bone that he could see: an arm stuck out to the side of the mattress, red marks and dark bruising circled the frail wrist where it was chained to the old headboard by a long metal cuff. Cas stood by the hand at the headboard, utter shock and sad confusion written all over his face and posture.

"Cas?" Dean whispered urgently. There were headlights pulling up. "Cas, we gotta go, what is it?"


Hesitantly, afraid of the state of the angel in the bed, Sam walked forward to Castiel.

"Cas, what-" his breath caught. He was weak, pale, bruised, and naked under the sheet, but he was still beautiful in his bloody unconsciousness. He was alive, at least. Gabriel's soft golden hair was matted and tangled and his bottom lip was split with a dried, rusty line. Sam's knees buckled and he sunk down to his angel, heart pounding too loud for the worried calls of his brother as he came forward to see the tortured archangel. Footsteps creaked in the hallway, but Sam couldn't be bothered, staring at his love as if he'd disappear if Sam turned away.

They had no time to escape anyway. The creaking was nearly on top of them now, and Cas simply walked to the door, gagged and pinning the son of a bitch to the wall with a flick of a wrist. The last thing they wanted was to wake up the archangel in the bed.

The man was little, weaselly and dirty like the grime on his walls. Sam shook with hatred and vengeance like a dying leaf in the wind. His muscles taught and vibrating, he dug through his pocket and pulled out a paperclip for the lock of the chain. It clicked with a shrieking sob.

"PLEASE DON"T, PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE, LEAVE-" he sucked in a breath as Sam slid his big hands around his freed wrist like he would break. His chest heaved, deep and fast, as they looked at each other. Those golden eyes, he missed those eyes. Sam thought he'd never see them again, and he couldn't do anything but smile breathlessly as his anger melted like a sandcastle and he took in all that he thought he lost. "S-Sammy?"it was a whisper. A broken whisper and Sam reached out to his angel. Gabriel jerked back, wild fear echoing through his flinch for just the second before his eyes filled with tears at his body's reaction. "I- I'm so sorry, I-" he opened his mouth, but there was nothing but a strangled cry. Sam tried to calm him, whispering to him about how much he missed him, how he was safe now, and they would take him away from here and take care of him. He talked him down with all the stories of what had happened since he left until he was calm, never letting go of his wrist.

"Sam?" A big hand touched his shoulder, jerking Sam back to reality and making him look up at his brother. Where was the guy that did this? He looked wildly around and tried to stand, only for Dean to push him back down. "It's okay. Cas' got 'im. He's not getting' any older than tonight. We're gonna head to Bobby's tonight, work out what's going on here." Sam nodded and Dean slapped his shoulder a little, turning to go, but he turned at the door. "Um Gabriel?" he cleared his throat, looking like someone suddenly stuck a pole up his back "it's- it's good to have you back." He left before anything could be said, and Sam thought he saw just a hint of Gabriel's old smirk when he looked back, but it was gone in a minute.

Sam rolled back onto his knees from where he perched at the edge of the mattress. He slid his jacket from his shoulders, tenderly wrapping it around his angel's shoulders, provoking a shiver that broke his heart. He called to Dean, who agreed to grab the big blanket from the back of the car. Castiel popped in just a moment later, making the older angel jump.

"Dean told me to give you this." Castiel handed over the massive blanket that always sat at foot of the impala's backseat, and he knew Dean would bitch later about making a naked archangel burrito out of it, but Sam didn't really care. Cas moved like a soldier, tense and vibrating through every sinew of his vessel. He looked at his brother for a long while, his gaze softening to a warm almost-smile. "It is good to have you back, Brother. You were missed dearly."

"Thank you, Castiel..." Gabriel sounded so different, so painfully serious. He was guarding every word he said, trying to hold in screams and sobs.

"Cas? Did you-"

"Kill that vile human? His soul is not even fit for the racks of Hell." Sam just nodded. He thought that would make him feel better, make Gabriel seem less broken, but it didn't, and Gabriel was still staring at his fingers as they picked at the mass of fabrics holding him together. "Tell Dean to bring the car around, okay?"

Once they were alone again, Sam sat back on the edge of the mattress, trying to meet Gabriel's eyes. He might be tortured, probably raped, experimented on like an animal, but he was alive. And that was more than Sam had before. He supposed he should be grateful, and, in a way, he was, but Gabriel wasn't. He was pained and haunted and ashamed.



"Gabriel, can you stand?"

He jerked his head up for a second, like he was going to nod, but thought better of it, shaking his head. Sam nodded sadly. He looked so hopelessly ashamed. Please don't hurt anymore, please look up at me and laugh like I remember you. I love you, I love you but I never said it... But, he couldn't tell him now, could he? It was wrong, it was all so dirty and bloody and wrong to say "I love you" like nothing was wrong.

"Okay. I'm going to have to lift you, Gabe. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise, but we need to get you out of here."

Gabriel gave a stinted nod, tugging Sam's jacket and the impala's blanket tighter to his tiny little frame. Making sure Gabriel saw his every move, Sam gently wrapped his pipe organ arms around him, pulling him into a bridal carry, stopping the second Gabriel tensed.

"Am I hurting you?"

"Just get me out of here, Sam." It was so quiet and timid it could've been the creak of the floor, but Sam felt himself swell with hope as Gabriel said his name. He was still in there somewhere. He had to be.