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"Rise n' shine, Samakin!"
Pulling the scratchy blanket higher over his head, Sam squeezes his eyes closed tighter.
"Saaam."
He knows that voice, he does; knows whose face he'd see if he opened his eyes.
Just like he knows that it's not real; that seeing would be more than he could tolerate. When just hearing his voice leaves a feeling like fresh bruises across his ribs, when he can barely breathe around the scorching, rattling pain in his chest.
The sigh, long and dramatic, is far too close to his ear, it's heat seeping unnaturally through the blanket's protection, "Why do you fight me every. Single. Morning?"
No, Sam can't look now. He can't. And yet there's a familiarity in the voice that makes him crave-
But he knows he shouldn't, that he can't, that it's not real and what right does it have to not be?! The anger is a sharp, sudden bitterness on his tongue when he snaps out, "Because you never leave!"
There's a gasp, and Sam can so clearly picture Gabriel's hand clutching over his heart with it; the way his eyes, whisky and gold, light with mischief as he puffs out his cheeks, pouts his lower lip. It's a sight he must have seen a hundred times, always over something small, and then Sam would roll his eyes but end up giving in-
Now, though, now Sam would give anything to have those moments again-
"You wound me, Sammy, truly." A thread of cold smugness weaves into the words, and somehow that stings worse, "I thought you would have wanted to see me again. Don't you miss me?"
And for a single moment, Sam forgets he's not supposed to look. All he knows is there isn't enough air in the blanket anymore and he wants the voice to leave him alone.
"You are not him!" Surging upright, he digs his nails, hard, into his scarred palm. Only, it does nothing to vanquish the man standing, unfazed, at the edge of his bed. The sight of Gabriel's face looking back at him makes Sam's heart sink hard and fast, tears pricking at the back of his eyes.
The Gabriel who is not Gabriel smirks, mouth both seductive and playful, so similar to the truth, as it leans in towards him. The eyes, though, are all wrong - they're dark and hungry in all the wrong ways, in all the ways that'll never be Gabriel, his Gabriel.
Breath shuttering, Sam leans away, unable to pry his gaze from him- it.
"Oh right," It says in Gabriel's voice but with none of his warmth, "Because he died protecting you. Such a cliche love story, don't you think? It's overdone."
"You're not real," Sam whispers, "You're not real."
"Just look at you. You're a mess. A disgrace. No wonder he chose death over you." It taunts back, "Wouldn't it be easier to give up? Wouldn't it be easier to just say yes?"
Sam's throat clicks when he swallows.
It's right.
He doesn't know how much longer he can do this for.
He could just give in. Give up. No more pain, no more memories, no more nights haunted by a Gabriel that isn't his-
"Mm, no. I don't think so." The voice doesn't come from the man leaning in towards Sam.
Not-Gabriel freezes, surprise flashing across his stolen face before he straightens, smiling. "Brother."
Behind him, Sam catches sight of a second Gabriel perched on the windowsill popping a lollipop out of his mouth, one leg idly swinging. When his eyes catch Sam's, he wiggles his eyebrows at him, but the hardness never leaves his mouth.
"Brothers," The newest-Gabriel snarls, "Respect the dibs." Lifting a hand, he snaps his fingers, the sound a clash of thunder in the small, dim room.
Sam flinches.
In an instant, the not-Gabriel's face morphs into Lucifer's before he vanishes entirely.
Sam stares at new-Gabriel, a new hysteria bubbling up his chest, into his throat-
It's another hallucination. It has to be. He's had these before, the ones where Gabriel comes back to him. Ones where Gabriel is alive, and it's always worse than the ones of Lucifer masquerading as Gabriel- it always makes him hope before that, too, is torn out of him.
"No, no, no not again-" He can't do it. He can't do it anymore.
He won't do it anymore.
"Sam? Sammy? Hey," Except that Gabriel is suddenly there, crowding into Sam's bubble, hands caressing and wiping at the hot tears suddenly escaping down his cheeks. And it doesn't feel like a hallucination. No, this time he's solid and warm, and smells just like Sam's memories - overly sweet and approaching thunderstorms.
And, all at once, Sam's fingers are curling into the front of Gabriel's shirt, hauling him closer, smashing their mouths together with enough force that it makes his teeth hurt. Gabriel makes a startled sound and Sam chases it, tilting his head, molding their mouths into a proper kiss that tastes of lollipops and salt-
It's not nearly enough.
It can never be enough, not after everything.
But Gabriel is pulling away, pressing his hand firmly into Sam's chest when Sam tries to lean in after him, his laughter breathy, "I'm all for welcome home wagons, kiddo, but aren't you even going to ask how I-"
Sam is already shaking his head, "I don't care how."
He leans in again, but Gabriel pulls further back, smiling sadly, "I'll be home soon, Sam."
By the time Sam realizes what that means, he's gone.
"Talk about a steamy kiss." Lucifer says, somewhere to his left.
The broken, hysterical noise that crawls up Sam's throat turns to a sob when he realizes the real Gabriel may never have been there to begin with.