This started out as a conversation between @princessofsabriel @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell and myself.. this is what happens when we open a google doc.
Thank you, to you beautiful snowflakes for helping me write this. It was great fun to collaborate with you and to have you as co-authors.
(AO3)
Sam watched his brother collapse at the floor after the younger hunter blasted Lucifer away, watched Dean’s eyes grow distant in grief for his best friend, who he thought was lost to him. Sam felt his heart break for the man in front of him. Castiel was his friend, sure, but to Dean he had always been something more, whether the other man wanted to admit that or not. He stood up from where he’d been thrown, looked around the room. Well, nothing was impossible in this shit-show that was the Winchester’s life, right? There was only one being, besides God himself, that Sam could think of might be able and willing to help them save Cas. He was most likely dead, but Sam had to hope against hope that life would give them a break just this once. So, taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes in silent prayer:
“Gabriel? I’m not sure you can hear me. Hell, I’m not even sure you’re alive. But we need your help if you are. Well, Cas needs your help, actually. I’ve told you about the whole Amara-deal already, so I’ll skip that, but Cas he… he got it into his head that Lucifer could beat her. I don’t know exactly what happened but somehow… Lucifer possessed Cas. Gabriel, Lucifer is in Cas’ body. Cas is still in there and he fought his way to the front to stop Lucifer from killing me, so I’m assuming he’s conscious. But we need to get the devil out of there and… well you’re the only one I could think of that cared enough about him and had the ability to help. Please Gabriel. If you’re out there, please help!”
Releasing his breath, Sam imagined his soul reaching out to Gabriel’s grace, pleading him to help them. Maybe he wanted to stay out of more of the Winchester’s messes, but this was his little brother, surely he’d come out of hiding to help him, to save him?
He waits for almost a full minute and is just about to sigh in defeat at yet another prayer gone unanswered, when 180 pounds of pissed off archangel lands behind him with a swish of wings.