Open Hands and Broken Glass

Part 1 of my Post-Asmodeus Sabriel Feels series. Couldn't help myself. Continue to be unable to help myself.

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"What can I do?"

Although Sam wasn't surprised Gabriel didn't answer him, he still felt disappointed. Disappointed and frustrated. Whether he was upset with Gabriel, or Asmodeus, or himself, he couldn't quite determine.

Sam watched the archangel, whose head was lowered into the pillow he'd seized when Sam guided him onto the bed. His back was pressed to the headboard, his legs pulled up so that his knees were hidden by the pillow. Sam could see flakes of stale blood on the white fabric.

Sam sighed. "I can't help unless you tell me what you need. I'm not gonna punish you if you talk. Like - do you want food, or water, or a shower, or what?" He glanced at the pillow in Gabriel's arms. "To sleep, maybe? You can take the bed." He made a half-hearted attempt to smile. "We've got plenty of those."

When Gabriel gave no indication that he had heard, the smile faded. "Man - I'm not gonna hurt you. At least look up at me."

He was alarmed when Gabriel slowly lifted his head from the pillow.

This time Sam's smile was genuine. "That's it. Gabriel, I - "

But Gabriel's face was lit with terror, and Sam realized that he'd only followed the instruction because he expected repercussions if he refused. Sam made a mental note to phrase his invitations as questions, not demands.

"It's okay," said Sam. "You can put your face back in the pillow if you want."

Sam thought he saw a spark of confusion in Gabriel's eyes. The angel held his pillow more tightly but didn't attempt to hide behind it.

"Can you talk?" Sam asked, expecting nothing; but, mouth locked shut despite the removal of the stitches binding his lips, Gabriel gave a panicked whimper and shook his head.

"What about fresh air?" Sam pressed. "I can take you outside."

Again Gabriel offered a strangled cry in response. Sam could understand how the open world might be intimidating, even threatening, after so many centuries in the dark.

"Well," Sam went on, "I'd leave you alone, but I kinda feel like that might be a bad idea. Not because I want to hurt you," he added hastily as fear colored Gabriel's face again, "But just ... because it's easy to get lost in your ow head. Even for an angel."

Gabriel kept his eyes fixated on Sam. His hoarse breathing frosted the silence that followed.

"All right," Sam said at last, "Here's what I'm gonna do. Let me get you some water, okay? I'll be right back."

By the time Sam returned, Gabriel hadn't shifted an inch. Sam offered him the glass, but Gabriel only stared at it as if he he expected Sam to use it as a weapon.

Instead of insisting, Sam set the water on the nightstand. "It's there. Okay? But you don't have to drink it."

Gabriel swallowed.

Sam ran a hand through his hair. "This is weird. You ... being like this, you know? He messed you up pretty bad."

Gabriel merely continued to watch him, although Sam thought - or imagined - that he appeared a little less afraid.

Then, slowly, carefully, and without taking his eyes off of Sam, Gabriel reached to the side and lifted the cup of water. But his hand trembled so violently that the glass immediately fell, shattering on the floor.