Author's Rambles: As anyone can guess, I'm heartbroken at my Gabby being killed off. There was me, all excited that he was back, only to have my hopes dashed. *sob* But then I got this stuck in my head and had to write it down. Apparently I'm not the only one depressed about Gabby.

Once again, a huge thank you to all who have stuck with me through my exams and the comatose computer crisis. (Still using mam's laptop. Hehe.)

Set after 5x19. *sob sob* Contains hints of a prior relationship. ;)

Disclaimer: As always, me no own Supernatural. Not even a teeny knife or weeny gun.

Midnight plus One

'Beloved, do not die. Do not dare die! I, the survivor, I wrap you in words so that the future inherits you. I snatch you from the death of forgetfulness. I tell your story, complete your ending – you who once whispered beside me in the dark.'

~'Country of my Skull', Antjie Krog~

It's Heaven.

Truly Heaven compared to what Lucifer makes him suffer with. It's calm and quiet. Full of peace.

There is no screaming, or crying out for mercy – mercy that will never be dealt out. No fired blazing, with smoke blanketing the sky. No death or destruction.

There is simply no Lucifer.

And Sam likes that.

Instead, he's in a library. Not just any old library; it's full of all the books he has ever loved – textbooks, novels, non-fiction. Even his favourite books from when he was a child are here. He strokes their spines with longing. Such innocence he possessed back then.

The library is like the one he made his second home back in Stanford. It has the same big, arched windows and comfy chairs.

He collapses into one, stretches out and sighs. He is the only one here. Him, with all these books. A dangling glass chandelier above his head. No cheap fluorescent lightening. He relaxes.

Pure Heaven.

"Sure as Hell hope not!" A snort. "That place is way too restricting. And totally boring."

Sam's lips twitch into a smile.

His visitor continues. "'Sides, why do you make me snap up this place?" That's hitting a ten on the distain meter right there. "We could go party in Brazil, sit on a beach in Hawaii and watch the sun go down, or even take a tour 'round Europe, Sammy-boy."

Sitting up, Sam focuses on the smirking Archangel in front of him, complete with his hands in his pockets and ruffled brown hair. He finds himself feeling deliriously happy.

"We could go anywhere!" A shake of the head. "I do spoil you, Winchester."

The Archangel rants away, but it's something that Sam welcomes. Especially after being forced to listen to the deceptively smooth, velvet voice of Lucifer; all his whispers in the night. Whispers poured into his ear, full of evil and dark promises.

"And libraries have that dumbass 'Golden Rule' crap – 'Silence, no talking'. I mean, why even bother?" An exasperated sigh.

"So it's something you can't cope with, then." Sam remarks dryly as the tirade comes to a close.

The Archangel gazes at him. Gabriel's hazel eyes suddenly become softer and drill into Sam's own. The smirk vanishes to be replaced with a tender smile.

"You like this," he gestures at the rows and rows - and shelves and shelves – of books, "'cause it makes you feel safe, right?"

Knowing that he has indeed struck gold, Sam breaks eye contact. Looks at the floor below him instead. It's a lovely dark mahogany wood.

"It reminds you of the life you once had."

After a moment, Sam dips his head in the barest of nods. There's a gentle sigh.

"Oh, Sammy." Rustles of feathers. A sad, despondent shake of the head.

There's silence.

"But you make me feel… Safer." The words leak out of his mouth like ink from a fountain pen, and pool through the air. He closes his eyes. Embarrassed at admitting the truth, and heartbroken because… Because it is the truth.

Another rustle. Now Gabriel is sitting next to him, and Sam inhales the sweet sugary scent that clings to the Archangel. It's so achingly familiar. He swallows convulsively.

He can feel himself getting pulled into the Archangel's arms; can feel the warmth there heat him up. It's nothing but secure, and Sam leans further into Gabriel's chest. The Archangel feels so small and so fragile compared to his own taller than average, toned physique. But he's powerful. A snap of his fingers could kill, create, or utterly destroy. Yet he uses those fingers to stroke Sam's unruly hair. He uses that incredible power to create a safe haven for Sam. Or even to simply make him laugh.

[Sam doesn't want to open his eyes lest this peace suddenly vanishes, leaving him with naught but memories]

But he knows from experience that if he did open his eyes, he would see – and feel – the softness of feathers draped around him like a comfort blanket.

"Oh, Sammy." Gabriel breathes again, sounding oddly sympathetic, and the words tumble over Sam's head. It's so reminiscent of past times that Sam desperately bites his lip.

The library's clock ticks in the background. Sam hears himself breathing. His fingers twine around Gabriel's shirt.

"You really must miss me if you're acting like this." Gabriel pats him on the head like he is a puppy. "I'm touched." Mocks dabbing his eyes with a tissue.

Sam says nothing. His eyes are still closed. But the words strike the raw place in his heart.

"I'm sorry, Sammy-boy." There is real regret in the ex-Trickster's voice. "If only I could always keep you safe." It's softly whispered.

Sam opens his eyes and looks at Gabriel. Who pulls out a lollypop, unwraps it and sticks it into his mouth with a flourish. He grins at the youngest Winchester, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"Don't go." It's a plea from a broken man. A lonely, desperate, broken man. "Stay. Please." He's reduced to simple phrases and mere words now. But he honestly cannot cope alone anymore.

Someone always used to be there for him. Used to pick up the pieces when he could no longer cope, and eventually shattered. Once it had been Dean, but then Dean became a shadow of his former self and needed help, too.

"How can something that wasn't there in the first place just up sticks and go? Answer that, Brainiac." Amusement now, and a wink thrown in for good measure.

Dean then got Cass, his very own guardian angel. Sam was left alone, but… But then he got Gabriel. And he became happy. Gloriously happy.

For a time.

"You… You feel like you're real. Like you're here." Sam finds his lips trembling. His voice breaks.

Facing up to reality is more than he can bear.

More silence. And then his angel takes pity on him.

"If you say so, Captain, then apparently I'm real." Gabriel sounds happy. A light kiss is dropped onto Sam's head.

He snuggles back into Gabriel's secure arms with the hint of a satisfied smile on his lips.

"That's good enough for me."

The cock ticks in the background. Sam closes his eyes again. Time doesn't matter to him. Not yet, anyway. Not until he wakes up.

Then he'll drag himself around and act normal, if he can pull it off. But inwardly he'll be breaking. Breaking into tiny, tiny pieces. Dean will fuss like the big brother he used to be. Maybe. If he isn't drunk or depressed himself. Ditto Bobby. And to Cass, he's an abomination. So he has no-one.

He's alone.

But for now he has what he needs and wants – he isn't alone. Not really. Not to himself, anyway.

And that really is good enough, Apart from one more thing.

"Will you ever come back?" he whispers. He needs to know.

The Archangel tilts his head, considering. "Ask Dad. If he'll listen. If he cares." A snort of bitter laughter. "But you still have me now, Sammy-boy." He nuzzles Sam's hair.

It tickles.

"I miss you, you know." A shaky sigh escapes Sam's mouth. "Every day." He can feel the lump in his throat grow. His eyes prickle.

He keeps them closed.

His hair is being stroked again, and the action is so soothing and so… So real it makes him want to howl with grief. The other arm tightens his hold on Sam. So secure. So protective.

"I know, sweetheart. I know."

[He wishes that Gabriel will never let him go]

If only.

Because Sam knows deep down that dreams are only dreams, and not real. And they will never be real. Regardless of how he feels.

So he lets him go once the sun comes up.

And his heart breaks.

Oh my. Did I just write Slash? o.O