#saraph

Sam was torn, as he stood before  the small cairn of stone in the backyard of the bunker. There was a much fresher memorial beside it, but he paid that one no mind.

He probably should have been inside, offering what little comfort he could to the bedridden and dying nephilim inside. But Jack was sleeping. And as he looked down as the paper in his hand, he knew he had to try. Jack was the closest thing to a son he'd had ever thought he could have, and he had to try this one last desperate measure. Especially if it meant sharing the child he considered to be his adopted son with the love of his life.

This was not the first time he had done this, read a letter to Raphael at the spot he has built the memorial to them. It wasn't a grave, not with Amara having imploded Raphael and leaving nothing behind to burn or bury. Knowing what he did now, Sam half hoped Raphael had been able to hear them, but also felt divided on whether or not he wanted to succeed at this. Did Raphael not deserve the peace they all craved? But he also knew that if he did manage to wake Raphael, the Healer would fix this, if they were able to. And maybe this could be the very last time they all tried to save the world. It was time to retire and raise the new generation of hunters and let them take over.

Sam didn’t need the white picket fence and the apple pie life, but he wanted his mate. The one who understood him better than anyone else ever had.

Amara had given Dean a “gift”, but no one had ever asked him if there was anything he wanted or needed.

“Dean Raphael,” Sam said, hoping, praying. He had poured every ounce of his lover and hope into this letter. This prayer. “If we had known Gabriel was alive all those years ago, I know you would have led the battle against the Prince of Hell and his legions of demons, I would have been there right by your side. I wish you had been here to dissuade him from yet more self sacrifice. You were the same way, I recall, and I’ve always been that way too, but we were good for each other. I also just wish I could have gotten to know the side of him you always talked about when you talked about your little brother, and I wish you could have seen him again. But I talked about Gabriel in my last letter and I have something a little more pressing to tell you now.

“I’ve told you about your nephew, Jack Kline. He saved us from the apocalypse ‘verse Michael and helped us get out of apocalypse World. But there’s something wrong with him and he’s dying. I wish you were here to heal him, and I wish you could have met him. He’s a sweet little kid for all that he looks like a young adult, and because we’ve been raising him, I suppose I can’t help but think of his as kind of like my own son, and I do really wish I could share this with you. I know we never really talked about having our own kids, biological or otherwise, especially what with us still being firmly rooted in the hunter lifestyle. But I’m definitely ready to give that all up if I can just share this with you. Please.

"But you deserve your peace, too, and I hope that at the very least you are at peace. I just want you to know that only you will ever hold the keys to my heart, and I miss you so much.

"Please come back to me.”

Sam took the matchbook from his pocket, and used it to set the letter on fire over the cairn, just as he had with all the other letters. He knew it probably affected nothing, meant nothing, but it mattered to him.

“Please come back to me,” he repeated, whispered, as his eyes watered. He didn’t want to lose any more of the people that he cared about. Not both the love of his life and the kid he would never stop wishing he could have raised with his mate.

Amara had obliterated Raphael near the beginning of that whole thing. She’d gone straight for Heaven, intent on killing the first of Chuck’s creations that she had so despised.

Neither she nor Chuck had offered any condolences for that. They’d never said anything at all, with the possible exception of calling it “a most unfortunate tragedy” but he couldn’t really remember that conversation, as he had been too filled with anger and grief to really register it. They had just… left. Like nothing else mattered at all, and Dean hadn’t understood his grief either. No one had.

But you don’t share life altering love with another being for five years and then just let it go when they disappear from your life entirely.

“Look what I found!”

The shout from a voice he wasn’t expecting to ever hear again in either life nor death had Sam turning around as he blinked past the tears falling down his face. Cocky Gabriel was standing there, cocky grin on his face, but as soon as Sam saw who he had brought with him, he had eyes for nothing else. The vessel was new, taller than he was, and more obviously androgynous, but besides that it seemed to be an almost perfect mix of their two last vessels. Sam hoped that meant Raphael was would be more comfortable in it than in their previous vessels, but Sam cared nothing about their physical appearance.

“Raph!” he shouted running forward and wrapping around his mate. “You’re here!”

“I love you,” Raphael whispered in Sam’s ear, as they returned Sam’s hug in the way best done by the taller person. There were reasons they had waited so long for Gabriel to help finish making them this perfect vessel. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Hey! What am I, chopped liver?”

Sam glance over at Gabriel, but the younger archangel did not appear to actually be offended, as he was grinning happily at them.

“Gabriel," Raphael scolded without looking at their brother. "I have not seen my mate in four years, let us have this moment.”

“Okay, okay. But I’m pretty sure Sam mentioned a matter of timely importance.”

“I would like to meet this child you want to be ours,” Raphael agreed, but allowed Sam to pull away from the hug first. They didn’t not remain separated for long, as Sam took one of their hands a second later.

Sam studied the way Raphael’s hand fit snugly into his larger hand. He had missed this so much it still ached like a fresh wound. But Raphael was here before him and he almost couldn’t believe it.

“Jack’s inside,” he said finally, and then led the way. Dean was nowhere to be seen when Sam led the two archangels into Jack’s room. Castiel alone sat in the chair by the head of the bed.

Castiel looked up as they entered the room. “Gabriel, Raphael. I am glad to see you both alive and well.”

“Where is Dean?” Sam asked. He knew he had to reveal this to Dean sooner over later, but he was glad Dean was not in the room because he didn’t want any screaming matches to occur in Jack’s bedroom.

“I sent him to the store,” Castiel said, “to buy some random objects. It should keep him busy for the next two hours. I didn’t want him to cause a scene when there are more important things at stake.”

Raphael nodded. “Thank you. I would like to heal the child, if I might have a closer look? Can you tell me what you know about what happened?”

“He’s dying from low grace levels,” Castiel explained, standing so Raphael could take the seat he had been occupying. “His organs are failing.”

“Low grace levels isn’t usually fatal...Nephilim do have a higher chance of death from that, but only when… What did you do?”

“We tried to give him the remaining vial of Gabriel’s grace we tracked down from a shaman. But Jack had a bad reaction to it,” Sam explained. “The low grace levels are from destroying the Michael in the alternate universe, and whatever he’s been up lately.”

“Of course he had a bad reaction to my grace!” Gabriel shouted. He sighed, taking a moment to compose himself. “I ran with the pagans for a really long time. Long enough it made permanent alterations to the makeup of my grace. Think STDs, except for Grace. But it also means that it isn’t compatible with anyone else’s anymore, even those with whom it would have been compatible in the beginning.”

“Grace has compatibilities?” Sam asked.

Raphael put a hand on Jack’s forehead. “It’s a little bit like how human blood has rules for whose is compatible with who, with a few things such as Gabriel’s experiences with the Pagan or Lucifer’s causes it to shift, but it also has natural rules it follows as well. In the beginning, each archangel had a different type, and all the ranks of angels that followed had one of those four. My grace is a bit like the universal donor, probably for cases like this. There’s probably instances where it could be rejected, same for the incredibly rare human blood types such as hh, but I’ve never seen it happen.”

“Even Lucifer’s?” Castiel asked.

“Jacks’ grace is not identical to what Lucifer’s grace looked like in recent times. There’s a small genetic component sure, possibly similar to Lucifer’s original grace type, which was not the universal recipient, but his own choices and actions are also apart of the equation. I would be shocked if my grace was rejected by the good kid Sam described to me the last two years.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “You heard my prayers?”

“I heard all of your prayers addressed to me,” Rapahel answered. “I was just unable to return before now, and I apologize for that.”

Rapahel’s eyes glowed the soft blue of grace being used and Jack’s flew open, unseeing but filled with the same effect.

“Do you want a snack, Sam?” Cas asked.

Sam didn’t register that Castiel was talking to him, too busy entranced by Raphael’s ethereal presence.

All too soon, the light faded and Jack’s eyes closed. Raphael took an unsteady step backwards, but Sam was right there to support them. “Are you okay?” Sam asked, and Castiel asked if Jack would be alright.

“I’m fine, Sam. It’s just been awhile since I’ve done something like this. But I wouldn’t be opposed to retiring for the evening. Jack is also recovering. I imagine he will sleep until sometime this evening or tomorrow morning. Would you like to join me, Sam?”

Sam nodded, and they walked hand in hand back to their shared room. The room looked untouched to Rapahel, as though no one had stepped into it since Amara had exploded him almost four years previously. There was also not a single spec of dust, thought it almost felt as if that had been a recent change, as there was a very faint feeling of lingering grace having performed the single act of freshening the space. But it was clear to him that Sam had not been sleeping in here. Not once.

“Do you want to change into something more comfortable?” Sam asked. “We might need to go shopping, but I think this will fit?”

Raphael agreed about about getting some new clothing, their new vessel was taller and shaped differently than their previous ones. Gabriel had helped them finish it, but it had been an idea they’d contemplated even before Amara had imploded them.

Sam was holding a long silky sleep shirt that they had given to him, though he’d only worn it a few times.

They had worn it more, back then. It wasn’t really Sam’s aesthetic, but there was just something pleasant about stealing clothing from Sam’s wardrobe.

This form was built more petite than Sam, still, just taller. They had mainly wanted something androgynous, so they could really feel like themself in this skin, but they’d kept Sam in mind too. 

They smiled at Sam. “I would like that.”

There was a wicker laundry basket under the desk and Sam put his jeans and flannel into it, leaving his t-shirt and underwear on.

Raphael stripped, slowly so that they could show off this vessel to Sam, but not so slowly that it was a tease. Sam hummed appreciatively, but he did not seem interested in anything more than that.

“Gabriel helped me make this vessel for me, do you like it?”

Sam smiled and nodded. “Are you happy and comfortable in it?”

“I like that it allows me the freedom to change what gender is present down there. Are you feeling up for a demonstration?’

“Maybe some other time?” Sam shook his head, but he was still smiling. He passed Raphael the sleep shirt. “Will you just hold me, tonight?”

“Of course.”

Together, they pulled the comforter back from the top of the bed so that they could crawl under the sheets and blankets.

Sam intended to fall asleep last, as he wanted to savor that he was lying next to his mate who he had missed so much, had longed for the return of. But he had not slept well in so long that it was impossible to say awake.

Raphael took longer to fall asleep.They were tired from the grace transfusion, but they did not really need sleep. Just to rest quietly.

The unaltered state of the room concerned them, because it felt like Sam had not moved on at all, had perhaps not had the opportunity to finish grieving.

Sam looked small tucked beside them. Weary, desperate. It did not suit him, and Raphael hoped their return could help ease him. They closed their eyes, letting Sam's presence soothe them in return. They had missed sleeping and waking up with their mate in their arms.

Sam’s cry woke Raphael sometime later. It seemed to have woken Sam as well, though Raphael noticed that Sam did not wake instantly as he used to.

Was that because they were here now and Sam’s subconscious remember he was safe? Had Sam broken the habit of waking instantly himself? Or was this something else entirely?Sam woke slowly in a tight embrace, tears falling down his face. He’d been having a nice dream about Raphael being back and he didn’t want to wake up for fear of it having been nothing more than a dream.

There was a gentle rumble next to him, followed by what had to be an Enochian lullaby and he blinked wearily at the figure holding him. “Raphael,” he croaked hoarsely. “You are here.”

“I’m right here, Beloved,” Raphael swore. “Right where I belong.”

Sam cried harder into Raphael’s shirt, fingers wrapping tightly around the hem of the fabric.

Raphael held Sam tighter and resumed singing the Enochian lullabies they had half forgotten. Sam did not seem settled enough to go back to sleep, but that did not mean that they were not going to soothe and comfort him to the best of their abilities.

Sam could not sleep and did not want to. He layed curled in Raphael's arms and let their voice ground him in the present and reassure him that this was very real and that everything would be okay.

Raphael was sure that Sam was almost ready to fall asleep unintentionally a while later, but that was right when their bedroom door opened quietly.

Gabriel stood in the dark corridor, a platter in his hands. Besides him, Jack was gripping Gabriel's shirt. Raphael was unable to tell whether that was because Jack was unsteady on his feet, or simply terrified.

"I brought some grilled cheeses," Gabriel said. "I thought you lovebirds might like some nourishment."

Sam blushed crimson and tried to hide under Raphael and the blankets. Raphael laughed because it was nice to see Sam embarrassed rather than so afraid of losing them again.

"Uh huh," Raphael said. "Sam? Do you think you can eat some sandwiches?" Even if Sam said no, they intended to see if they could get him to eat a little. Sam looked more gaunt than they remembered him being and they had both missed the reasonable dinner hour by sleeping it away.

Sam shrugged, which Raphael was going to take. "Looks like we could eat those sandwiches."

"I also brought Jack. He got lost looking for you guys so I got him to help me make these."

That got Sam's attention and he sat up. "I'd love a sandwich. Jack, do you want to come lie down up here? There's plenty of room for all of us. You were sleeping, but my mate, Raphael, here, saved your life."

 Gabriel handed the tray to Jack and Jack brought it over to Sam. "You did?" he asked, addressing Raphael.

"I did. I've heard a lot about you from Sam, but circumstances prevented me from coming sooner. I'm really glad to meet you now though. Are you feeling better? I don't think you'll be completely well for a few days, but you should be fine with a few days of rest and low energy activities. No smiting anything."

"I'm okay, thank you."

Sam took the tray from Jack as Gabriel shut the door as he left. "Why don't you climb up here between us? It's nice and warm up here."

Jack considered the instruction for a moment, then followed the directions, scrambling over Sam and into the space between them.

"I was just singing some Enochian lullabies for Sam, would you like to hear them too?" Raphael asked as they tucked Jack under the covers.

Jack nodded, so Raphael resumed their singing and Sam held their hand behind Jack's head as he leaned against the headboard eating the sandwiches.

Raphael banished the tray to the kitchen when Sam had eaten his fill, and they smiled as Sam curled up protectively behind Jack and followed the child's lead at returning to sleep.

This was the "Heaven" they had all been waiting for.

Sam was torn, as he stood before  the small cairn of stone in the backyard of the bunker. There was a much fresher memorial beside it, but he paid that one no mind.

He probably should have been inside, offering what little comfort he could to the bedridden and dying nephilim inside. But Jack was sleeping. And as he looked down as the paper in his hand, he knew he had to try. Jack was the closest thing to a son he'd had ever thought he could have, and he had to try this one last desperate measure. Especially if it meant sharing the child he considered to be his adopted son with the love of his life.

This was not the first time he had done this, read a letter to Raphael at the spot he has built the memorial to them. It wasn't a grave, not with Amara having imploded Raphael and leaving nothing behind to burn or bury. Knowing what he did now, Sam half hoped Raphael had been able to hear them, but also felt divided on whether or not he wanted to succeed at this. Did Raphael not deserve the peace they all craved? But he also knew that if he did manage to wake Raphael, the Healer would fix this, if they were able to. And maybe this could be the very last time they all tried to save the world. It was time to retire and raise the new generation of hunters and let them take over.

Sam didn’t need the white picket fence and the apple pie life, but he wanted his mate. The one who understood him better than anyone else ever had.

Amara had given Dean a “gift”, but no one had ever asked him if there was anything he wanted or needed.

“Dean Raphael,” Sam said, hoping, praying. He had poured every ounce of his lover and hope into this letter. This prayer. “If we had known Gabriel was alive all those years ago, I know you would have led the battle against the Prince of Hell and his legions of demons, I would have been there right by your side. I wish you had been here to dissuade him from yet more self sacrifice. You were the same way, I recall, and I’ve always been that way too, but we were good for each other. I also just wish I could have gotten to know the side of him you always talked about when you talked about your little brother, and I wish you could have seen him again. But I talked about Gabriel in my last letter and I have something a little more pressing to tell you now.

“I’ve told you about your nephew, Jack Kline. He saved us from the apocalypse ‘verse Michael and helped us get out of apocalypse World. But there’s something wrong with him and he’s dying. I wish you were here to heal him, and I wish you could have met him. He’s a sweet little kid for all that he looks like a young adult, and because we’ve been raising him, I suppose I can’t help but think of his as kind of like my own son, and I do really wish I could share this with you. I know we never really talked about having our own kids, biological or otherwise, especially what with us still being firmly rooted in the hunter lifestyle. But I’m definitely ready to give that all up if I can just share this with you. Please.

"But you deserve your peace, too, and I hope that at the very least you are at peace. I just want you to know that only you will ever hold the keys to my heart, and I miss you so much.

"Please come back to me.”

Sam took the matchbook from his pocket, and used it to set the letter on fire over the cairn, just as he had with all the other letters. He knew it probably affected nothing, meant nothing, but it mattered to him.

“Please come back to me,” he repeated, whispered, as his eyes watered. He didn’t want to lose any more of the people that he cared about. Not both the love of his life and the kid he would never stop wishing he could have raised with his mate.

Amara had obliterated Raphael near the beginning of that whole thing. She’d gone straight for Heaven, intent on killing the first of Chuck’s creations that she had so despised.

Neither she nor Chuck had offered any condolences for that. They’d never said anything at all, with the possible exception of calling it “a most unfortunate tragedy” but he couldn’t really remember that conversation, as he had been too filled with anger and grief to really register it. They had just… left. Like nothing else mattered at all, and Dean hadn’t understood his grief either. No one had.

But you don’t share life altering love with another being for five years and then just let it go when they disappear from your life entirely.

“Look what I found!”

The shout from a voice he wasn’t expecting to ever hear again in either life nor death had Sam turning around as he blinked past the tears falling down his face. Cocky Gabriel was standing there, cocky grin on his face, but as soon as Sam saw who he had brought with him, he had eyes for nothing else. The vessel was new, taller than he was, and more obviously androgynous, but besides that it seemed to be an almost perfect mix of their two last vessels. Sam hoped that meant Raphael was would be more comfortable in it than in their previous vessels, but Sam cared nothing about their physical appearance.

“Raph!” he shouted running forward and wrapping around his mate. “You’re here!”

“I love you,” Raphael whispered in Sam’s ear, as they returned Sam’s hug in the way best done by the taller person. There were reasons they had waited so long for Gabriel to help finish making them this perfect vessel. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Hey! What am I, chopped liver?”

Sam glance over at Gabriel, but the younger archangel did not appear to actually be offended, as he was grinning happily at them.

“Gabriel," Raphael scolded without looking at their brother. "I have not seen my mate in four years, let us have this moment.”

“Okay, okay. But I’m pretty sure Sam mentioned a matter of timely importance.”

“I would like to meet this child you want to be ours,” Raphael agreed, but allowed Sam to pull away from the hug first. They didn’t not remain separated for long, as Sam took one of their hands a second later.

Sam studied the way Raphael’s hand fit snugly into his larger hand. He had missed this so much it still ached like a fresh wound. But Raphael was here before him and he almost couldn’t believe it.

“Jack’s inside,” he said finally, and then led the way. Dean was nowhere to be seen when Sam led the two archangels into Jack’s room. Castiel alone sat in the chair by the head of the bed.

Castiel looked up as they entered the room. “Gabriel, Raphael. I am glad to see you both alive and well.”

“Where is Dean?” Sam asked. He knew he had to reveal this to Dean sooner over later, but he was glad Dean was not in the room because he didn’t want any screaming matches to occur in Jack’s bedroom.

“I sent him to the store,” Castiel said, “to buy some random objects. It should keep him busy for the next two hours. I didn’t want him to cause a scene when there are more important things at stake.”

Raphael nodded. “Thank you. I would like to heal the child, if I might have a closer look? Can you tell me what you know about what happened?”

“He’s dying from low grace levels,” Castiel explained, standing so Raphael could take the seat he had been occupying. “His organs are failing.”

“Low grace levels isn’t usually fatal...Nephilim do have a higher chance of death from that, but only when… What did you do?”

“We tried to give him the remaining vial of Gabriel’s grace we tracked down from a shaman. But Jack had a bad reaction to it,” Sam explained. “The low grace levels are from destroying the Michael in the alternate universe, and whatever he’s been up lately.”

“Of course he had a bad reaction to my grace!” Gabriel shouted. He sighed, taking a moment to compose himself. “I ran with the pagans for a really long time. Long enough it made permanent alterations to the makeup of my grace. Think STDs, except for Grace. But it also means that it isn’t compatible with anyone else’s anymore, even those with whom it would have been compatible in the beginning.”

“Grace has compatibilities?” Sam asked.

Raphael put a hand on Jack’s forehead. “It’s a little bit like how human blood has rules for whose is compatible with who, with a few things such as Gabriel’s experiences with the Pagan or Lucifer’s causes it to shift, but it also has natural rules it follows as well. In the beginning, each archangel had a different type, and all the ranks of angels that followed had one of those four. My grace is a bit like the universal donor, probably for cases like this. There’s probably instances where it could be rejected, same for the incredibly rare human blood types such as hh, but I’ve never seen it happen.”

“Even Lucifer’s?” Castiel asked.

“Jacks’ grace is not identical to what Lucifer’s grace looked like in recent times. There’s a small genetic component sure, possibly similar to Lucifer’s original grace type, which was not the universal recipient, but his own choices and actions are also apart of the equation. I would be shocked if my grace was rejected by the good kid Sam described to me the last two years.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “You heard my prayers?”

“I heard all of your prayers addressed to me,” Raphael answered. “I was just unable to return before now, and I apologize for that.”

Rapahel’s eyes glowed the soft blue of grace being used and Jack’s flew open, unseeing but filled with the same effect.

“Do you want a snack, Sam?” Cas asked.

Sam didn’t register that Castiel was talking to him, too busy entranced by Raphael’s ethereal presence.

All too soon, the light faded and Jack’s eyes closed. Raphael took an unsteady step backwards, but Sam was right there to support them. “Are you okay?” Sam asked, and Castiel asked if Jack would be alright.

“I’m fine, Sam. It’s just been awhile since I’ve done something like this. But I wouldn’t be opposed to retiring for the evening. Jack is also recovering. I imagine he will sleep until sometime this evening or tomorrow morning. Would you like to join me, Sam?”

Sam nodded, and they walked hand in hand back to their shared room. The room looked untouched to Rapahel, as though no one had stepped into it since Amara had exploded him almost four years previously. There was also not a single spec of dust, thought it almost felt as if that had been a recent change, as there was a very faint feeling of lingering grace having performed the single act of freshening the space. But it was clear to him that Sam had not been sleeping in here. Not once.

“Do you want to change into something more comfortable?” Sam asked. “We might need to go shopping, but I think this will fit?”

Raphael agreed about about getting some new clothing, their new vessel was taller and shaped differently than their previous ones. Gabriel had helped them finish it, but it had been an idea they’d contemplated even before Amara had imploded them.

Sam was holding a long silky sleep shirt that they had given to him, though he’d only worn it a few times.

They had worn it more, back then. It wasn’t really Sam’s aesthetic, but there was just something pleasant about stealing clothing from Sam’s wardrobe.

This form was built more petite than Sam, still, just taller. They had mainly wanted something androgynous, so they could really feel like themself in this skin, but they’d kept Sam in mind too. 

They smiled at Sam. “I would like that.”

There was a wicker laundry basket under the desk and Sam put his jeans and flannel into it, leaving his t-shirt and underwear on.

Raphael stripped, slowly so that they could show off this vessel to Sam, but not so slowly that it was a tease. Sam hummed appreciatively, but he did not seem interested in anything more than that.

“Gabriel helped me make this vessel for me, do you like it?”

Sam smiled and nodded. “Are you happy and comfortable in it?”

“I like that it allows me the freedom to change what gender is present down there. Are you feeling up for a demonstration?’

“Maybe some other time?” Sam shook his head, but he was still smiling. He passed Raphael the sleep shirt. “Will you just hold me, tonight?”

“Of course.”

Together, they pulled the comforter back from the top of the bed so that they could crawl under the sheets and blankets.

Sam intended to fall asleep last, as he wanted to savor that he was lying next to his mate who he had missed so much, had longed for the return of. But he had not slept well in so long that it was impossible to say awake.

Raphael took longer to fall asleep.They were tired from the grace transfusion, but they did not really need sleep. Just to rest quietly.

The unaltered state of the room concerned them, because it felt like Sam had not moved on at all, had perhaps not had the opportunity to finish grieving.

Sam looked small tucked beside them. Weary, desperate. It did not suit him, and Raphael hoped their return could help ease him. They closed their eyes, letting Sam's presence soothe them in return. They had missed sleeping and waking up with their mate in their arms.

Sam’s cry woke Raphael sometime later. It seemed to have woken Sam as well, though Raphael noticed that Sam did not wake instantly as he used to.

Was that because they were here now and Sam’s subconscious remember he was safe? Had Sam broken the habit of waking instantly himself? Or was this something else entirely?Sam woke slowly in a tight embrace, tears falling down his face. He’d been having a nice dream about Raphael being back and he didn’t want to wake up for fear of it having been nothing more than a dream.

There was a gentle rumble next to him, followed by what had to be an Enochian lullaby and he blinked wearily at the figure holding him. “Raphael,” he croaked hoarsely. “You are here.”

“I’m right here, Beloved,” Raphael swore. “Right where I belong.”

Sam cried harder into Raphael’s shirt, fingers wrapping tightly around the hem of the fabric.

Raphael held Sam tighter and resumed singing the Enochian lullabies they had half forgotten. Sam did not seem settled enough to go back to sleep, but that did not mean that they were not going to soothe and comfort him to the best of their abilities.

Sam could not sleep and did not want to. He layed curled in Raphael's arms and let their voice ground him in the present and reassure him that this was very real and that everything would be okay.

Raphael was sure that Sam was almost ready to fall asleep unintentionally a while later, but that was right when their bedroom door opened quietly.

Gabriel stood in the dark corridor, a platter in his hands. Besides him, Jack was gripping Gabriel's shirt. Raphael was unable to tell whether that was because Jack was unsteady on his feet, or simply terrified.

"I brought some grilled cheeses," Gabriel said. "I thought you lovebirds might like some nourishment."

Sam blushed crimson and tried to hide under Raphael and the blankets. Raphael laughed because it was nice to see Sam embarrassed rather than so afraid of losing them again.

"Uh huh," Raphael said. "Sam? Do you think you can eat some sandwiches?" Even if Sam said no, they intended to see if they could get him to eat a little. Sam looked more gaunt than they remembered him being and they had both missed the reasonable dinner hour by sleeping it away.

Sam shrugged, which Raphael was going to take. "Looks like we could eat those sandwiches."

"I also brought Jack. He got lost looking for you guys so I got him to help me make these."

That got Sam's attention and he sat up. "I'd love a sandwich. Jack, do you want to come lie down up here? There's plenty of room for all of us. You were sleeping, but my mate, Raphael, here, saved your life."

 Gabriel handed the tray to Jack and Jack brought it over to Sam. "You did?" he asked, addressing Raphael.

"I did. I've heard a lot about you from Sam, but circumstances prevented me from coming sooner. I'm really glad to meet you now though. Are you feeling better? I don't think you'll be completely well for a few days, but you should be fine with a few days of rest and low energy activities. No smiting anything."

"I'm okay, thank you."

Sam took the tray from Jack as Gabriel shut the door as he left. "Why don't you climb up here between us? It's nice and warm up here."

Jack considered the instruction for a moment, then followed the directions, scrambling over Sam and into the space between them.

"I was just singing some Enochian lullabies for Sam, would you like to hear them too?" Raphael asked as they tucked Jack under the covers.

Jack nodded, so Raphael resumed their singing and Sam held their hand behind Jack's head as he leaned against the headboard eating the sandwiches.

Raphael banished the tray to the kitchen when Sam had eaten his fill, and they smiled as Sam curled up protectively behind Jack and followed the child's lead at returning to sleep.