Reading Between The Lines (Sabriel)

Chapter 4

How long is one supposed to wait before they call someone? A day? A week? A month? Ugh, socializing is hard. Gabriel should have told Sam to call him instead. Then again, the stress of waiting for a phone call would probably be worse than deciding when to call. He'd spend the rest of eternity wondering if Sam was actually going to call him, or if he was just being polite so he could get out of there.

What if that's what happened, though? What if Sam doesn't actually want to hang out with him again? What if Sam just said that to be polite, or at least to convince Gabriel that he was? He easily could have used that as an easy out. Or what if he was slightly drunk from the drink Gabriel bought him, and he regrets saying it?

Okay, he's overthinking this too much. He'll just call in a few days. No, a week. Do weekends work better? Neither of them have actual jobs, so it's not like they have scheduled days off. Weekends are more normal, though. Maybe next weekend? Is that too far away? Is that too soon? It's a week and a half. That's a good amount of time, right?

God, following human rules of socialization is hard. He misses having friends that he could stab in the back -- literally or figuratively -- and still expect an invitation to the family dinner. That has to be the plus side of befriending the pagans. They didn't know how to hold grudges, and they didn't subscribe to the artificial laws of human socialization.

~~

The next few days seem to drag on for Gabriel. Sure, he gets a kick out of messing with people, but he's too anxious to focus. He finally calls Sam up on Friday night, which is one day earlier than he had planned to but hopefully still long enough.

Sam picks up on one of the final rings. "Hey. Hold on, the reception sucks in here."

And silence. Is that it? Is he gone? Was that all he was going to get from the guy? That's not what he had expected. He had hoped Sam would pick up and ask to hang out, or just brush him off completely. Did he have to give him false hope like this?

But then, after a brief pause, Sam says, "Sorry, Dean was breathing down my neck. What's up?"

Oh, thank god.

"I have fewer things to do than a fish on a walk," Gabriel deadpans. Is that too straight-forward? Should he have made small talk first? All he really wants is someone to hang out with, so he might as well just go for it, right?

Sam chuckles. "Well, it just so happens that I just finished a case, so I've got the rest of the night off."

Gabriel can't help but grin, and he's glad Sam can't see his excitement through the phone. "You up for a night on the town?"

"Would I have told you I have the night off if I wasn't?" Sam counters.

"Touche," Gabriel says. "Where do you want to meet up, bearing in mind that I have no idea where you are but can teleport."

"There's a bar a few minutes away from my motel," Sam says. "Matthew's Tavern, I think? In Pennsylvania."

Gabriel lets out a low whistle. "Sounds like someone took a trip to the Morton House."

"Unfortunately, it was a lot of somebodies," Sam mutters.

"What?"

"I'll tell you the whole story when I see you," Sam says. "When do you want to meet up?"

"Right now good for you?" Gabriel asks. Is that too soon? Shoot, maybe it is. Sure, Sam said the place was only a few minutes away, but still. Maybe he should have waited a little longer.

"Sure thing," Sam replies, much to Gabriel's relief. "See you in a few."

Gabriel teleports over to the bar, knowing already he's going to be way earlier than Sam. Sam still has to talk to Dean, and he has to drive over. He's not sure how long he expects it to take -- talking to Dean alone may take hours. The guy is nothing if not protective.