Mint and apricots

41. All thanks to the snow

"Sam!" Gabriel repeated, now much closer, and the boy opened his eyelids at the exact moment when the host knelt beside him and made sure that he had not hit his head more seriously than it seemed at first sight. "Holy shit... Sam, can you hear me? Say something."

"Poughkeepsie," Sam mumbled obediently.

He opened and closed his eyes a couple more times, until Gabriel's face took on well-defined contours. He was satisfied when he noticed Gabriel's forehead wrinkle. God, he was so close to him. Sam found that woody notes perfume of him – or maybe, on second thought, could it be a deodorant? - within his nostrils range again and he inhaled it until he got his lungs full.

"What?"

"Poughkeepsie," Sam whispered again, swallowing. "County seat of Duchess County, state of New York. My brother and I used it as a password when we were children, or to warn the other one that Dad was coming, so it was better to forget about the plan of the moment. Like, I don't know... setting fire to Dean's science project. That volcano sucked, anyway."

"Okay, you're definitely chattier than usual," Gabriel considered, unsure whether to allow himself to be comforted or worried by the young man's sudden loquacity. His next move was to place the back of his hand on Sam's forehead, and then his eyes widened: "Good God, you're burning up. Didn't you realize it?"

Partly out of distraction and partly in order not to be reproached for having underestimated the symptoms that haunted him since waking up, Sam easily dodged the question.

"I'm not... I'm not feeling very well," he muttered.

"No doubt about that, I could cook some eggs up here," Gabriel commented, now bending down and maneuvering until he managed to slip one arm around Sam's shoulders. "Come on, stand up. I'll walk you to the sofa. Just a little effort. Easy... easy. There you go."

In some way or another, with Gabriel's help, Sam managed to get back on his feet and beat the dizziness just enough to land on the sofa – the one where Gabriel usually sat, as the other one, his, was taken. Momo had curled up peacefully in the middle of it. As soon as Gabriel helped him lie down, Sam settled on his side with a groan, so that he was looking towards the center of the living room. He was aching all over.

"I-I need to call Dean," he moaned as he tried to suppress a shiver, noticing the sweat beading on his forehead only when Gabriel placed a cushion under his cheek. "I-I have to ask him to come and get me. I d-don't want to cause you any more trouble."

"You're not causing me any trouble, Sam, at all," promised Gabriel, who was still swallowing the anguish that had gripped his stomach an instant earlier, when out of the corner of his eye he had seen the boy suddenly fall to the ground. But he was still trying to stay calm and use his most soothing tone. "Also, there's a snowstorm going on outside. It's not the right moment to ask anyone, let alone your brother, to go out and drive, since there's no urgent need for that. Wait here, okay?" he exhorted after spreading on him the only blanket he found nearby, even though it was definitely too light for the circumstances. "I'll be right back."

He kept his word. It seemed to Sam that he had the chance to fill and empty his lungs just three or four times before Gabriel was back with a glass of water that was placed on the coffee table, a wet and cool cloth that he put on Sam's hot forehead and a thermometer which Gabriel turned on after sitting down on a free corner of the sofa, taking the time to check that the tool still worked.

"Forgive me if I dare," he said then, a moment before sliding the hand holding the thermometer into the neck of the sweatshirt Sam was wearing.

The thirty-one-year-old proved quick to place the instrument under the other man's armpit, but not enough to prevent Sam from feeling a rush of blood warm his face and color his cheeks. He could only hope that the pallor of his weakness was stronger than his tendency to blush from the thoughtful and respectful touch of those fingers on his skin.