Wherever The Mind May Roam

6 ~ Just a Hug

I sit with my back against the leg of the bed. It presses into my skin, into my spine, and it hurts, but I ignore it. It's something to redirect the pain. With my knees up to my chest and my arms crossed over them, I rest my forehead on my arm and hold back a sob. My eyes sting with tears.

Gabriel stands by the window, staring out. He's still. The Winchesters: we lost them both. Gruesome. Their blood spilled, and it spilled everywhere, too fast for the both of us to fix. It may have been fun to argue with them, to play dangerous pranks, but we weren't ready for this.

Gabriel sighs. I take a deep, uneven breath.

"We have five minutes," he says. I lift my head. He's still looking out the window. It's impossible to tell if he's looking at something interesting, or if he just needs something - anything - to focus on to get the images of our long lost friends out of his head.

I sniffle. "Gabe..." I whisper. I know he hears me, but he doesn't move. "It wasn't your fault. You know that, right?" I rise to my feet. "Gabe?"

He finally looks at me. "Then whose was it? Because last I checked-" he stopped mid sentence, glanced at my feet, then back up at my eyes. "Why are you getting closer?"

"I need you to repeat it back to me. Tell me you know-"

"Don't touch me," he says disgustedly as I near him. I spread my arms slightly. I can't miss the tear that forms in the corner of his eye. He looks out the window again.

"Gabriel."

He exhales slowly, contemplating, then opens his arms a little. I rush up to him, pressing my head into his chest, wrapping my arms tightly around his broad shoulders. A tear rushes down my cheek. Gabriel gently holds my waist, pulling me close as I listen to his calm, steady heartbeat. I feel him relax, his shoulders sag.

He moves one hand and brushes it through my hair, down my back. A comforting heat emanates from his hands. He presses his lips to the side of my head and holds them there for a second. "You did nothing wrong," he whispers.

"Neither did you." My voice cracks. I can't stop it. My shoulders shake and I grit my teeth, hoping I can stop myself, but it doesn't work. He shushes me, holds me tighter, tells me it's not my fault. I can't help it. "I'm so sorry," I whisper.