*Oprah voice* And YOU get some angst, and YOU get some angst, and YOU get some angst ...!
Part 10 of my Post-Asmodeus Sabriel Feels collection, because I have no self-control. I recently received a comment that simply said, "Poor Gabe. He's a mess." And I thought, "Maybe I should just call my series that."
My work is often posted on Tumblr first, in addition to snapshots of my awkward social life, etc.: http://unityghost.tumblr.com
WARNING: this story contains themes of sexual assault.
Gabriel had given in to Sam's pleas for him to eat some soup.
Sam had ordered the minestrone, as he always did, because it was bland enough not to stir up memories of what Gabriel had been forced to consume in Hell. Gabriel generally followed Sam's requests, however tentatively. Sam hoped that it was because he'd gained Gabriel's trust, and not because Gabriel feared the consequences of defiance.
Besides, they both knew that while sustenance wasn't necessary to keep Gabriel alive, it hastened the process of replenishing the grace that had been ravaged and violated for nearly a millennium.
So Gabriel let Sam, Dean, and Castiel take him out for food at the local diner now and again. Most frequently it was Sam who offered to do so, and Sam whom Gabriel agreed to accompany.
Today, that was what he had done, and now they were situated in a booth close to both the door and the counter.
The waiter came over to refill their water glasses and smiled. He was large, with a kind rosy face that marked him as somewhere in his late thirties. Sam was reminded of a medieval friar. "How is everything, gentlemen?"
"Great," Sam said, "Thanks." Once the waiter had left, Sam muttered to Gabriel: "Too classy for a joint like this, don't you think?"
"Mm," Gabriel agreed, avoiding Sam's eyes, and several minutes passed in silence.
Nothing seemed amiss until, mid-swallow, the spoon slipped from Gabriel's fingers and clattered into the bowl, splattering soup onto the table.
Before Sam could do more than look up at Gabriel in puzzlement, Gabriel covered his mouth and retched.
"Gabriel, what - " Sam began, but Gabriel shot to his feet and staggered towards the restroom at the back of the diner.
"Gabriel!" The other customers stared as Sam hurried to catch up with him. But Gabriel slammed the door before Sam could follow him in and, to Sam's dismay, somehow had the presence of mind to lock it.
Sam struggled to get the door open. "Gabriel!"
The waiter approached, water pitcher in hand and brow creased in concern. "What's the matter?"
"My friend is sick," Sam explained, trying the door again. "I need to make sure he's - "
"I have a key." The waiter touched Sam's arm to reassure him. "Wait here."
He disappeared into the kitchen, and Sam was left to listen to Gabriel choking. Evidently the other diners could hear it too, because several put down their sandwiches in disgust.
Sam was silently scolding himself for leaving his lockpick in the car - though it might have earned him a little extra unwanted attention if he'd just started wrestling the door open - when the waiter reemerged. Immediately, he shoved the key into the lock.
The door opened to reveal Gabriel kneeling in front of the toilet. His eyes snapped up at them in terror. "No, get out, get out; please get out!"
Sam nodded at the waiter, who cast Gabriel a worried glance before pulling the door closed.
YOU ARE READING
Privilege
Fanfiction"It isn't that this is more than I can handle. It's that he tried to shatter you into as many pieces as Asmodeus did to me. I'm trying to imagine anybody doing that to you. I know my brother is capable of anything; I wish I didn't know, but I do. An...
