They made their own choice. They chose family.

Since Sam's making certain to follow his gut, he actually gets down on his knees to pull the book out. He runs his hands over the binding, blowing off the dust before he stands, starting to flip through it. It finally falls open to a page with a drawing that makes his stomach flip. Even he knows all about the classical representations of the archangels, after all. Even if they're now all dead or locked in the Cage.

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Not exactly.

The spell is clearly laid out below the images. The Shield of Heaven. The most powerful protection magic in all of Creation outside the hand of God himself. If an angel willingly sacrifices his grace to defend another, binds that power to save another, no weapon on earth will harm the protected.

It was unbreakable. But with a spell below the description, it was, in fact, traceable.

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Sam reads over the words a few times before heading off to drop the book in front of Dean. "Looks like I found it," he says grimly. "Not that it makes a lot of sense. I mean...if anybody was going to get hit with this, you make a lot more sense."

Because Sam doesn't think for one moment that Castiel wouldn't do that to protect Dean. And the one being who MIGHT have done it for Sam? Well, he's been dead a long time.

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Dean pulls a face at that, taking the book from Sam and reading over the spell. Powerful and unbreakable. "Hell Sam, if I'd have known about that a few years ago, I'd have held one of the bastards down myself to cook up a spell like this on you."

A page turn back, forward and finally he settles on the tracking spell. "Well, seems pretty straightforward enough. Let's test this puppy out and see who decided to lay mojo like that on you."

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"Don't think that would work. For one, it has to be a willing sacrifice." The only angel who might have is Castiel, and Sam's pretty sure that Dean's higher on Castiel's list than he is.

Still, he leans over the table and nods. "Nothing too out of the ordinary for spell components. I think we can probably do this without having to source anything new." The Men of Letters were meticulous in gathering things like spell components and Sam's been good about keeping the supplies stocked up. "Right. I guess no time like the present."

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And the only angel that might have considered making that sacrifice for Sam was long since gone. "Still. Would have been fun to try."

It only takes about an hour for them to pull together what they need. Chalk lines, candles, the usual song and dance. A pain in the ass to be sure, but if someone put a powerful protection spell on Sammy, Dean wanted to know why.

So color him surprised when Sam drops the match on the map and a single point lights up like a star. Chattanooga Tennessee.

"Huh. All right, guess a road trip it is."

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Sam stares at the map for a few moments before nodding. "Yeah, I guess it is." What could be in Tennessee, though? They've certainly been through the state more than a few times on hunts, but there wasn't anything particularly strange there at the moment.

Except, apparently, there was. And there was a part of him that wishes there was one particular angel at the other end of the trip, even if it's impossible.

"We should probably get some sleep first. Do laundry, head out in the morning. It's going to take a while to get there." Not that he particularly wants to wait, honestly, but they were tired and had only just gotten back to the bunker.

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"All right. You're on laundry." A clap on the shoulder before Sam can disagree or complain and Dean is headed back towards his favorite domain. The kitchen. "I'll take care of the road food."

So far the spell had kept Sam safe and be even bought them a little bit of luck along the way. He could only hope that carried them just far enough to find out who had pulled together a spell like that. Chattanooga wasn't exactly a small city.

They'd start with a local bar, ask around see what they could find. Canvas the area, work it like any other job.

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Sam snorts, shaking his head as he heads off to get the laundry going.

Honestly, he wasn't that worried about finding the angel responsible for the shield. Oh, he wanted to know. He just figured, at this point, that it was probably going to work out. Everything else seemed to be managing to work out for him, after all. Maybe this would just be one more thing.

Of course, it wouldn't be who he wanted it to be. Wouldn't be the reason he kept a certain Casa Erotica DVD long past when he should have just chucked it. A DVD that had a personal message to him.

Sam shakes himself out of his musings, getting the clothes together to wash. Now wasn't the time to get his head stuck back there again.

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Early to bed, early to rise? Not so much for hunters. Even after laundry, dinner and a few drinks while they read up on the spell and any potential loopholes or ways it could backfire – because magic that strong? It worried Dean.

Sure, it was protecting Sam in ways that nothing else could, but the last time things went that right for him was just before they went to hell thanks to that rabbit’s foot.
One final check over the car and their gear before Dean finally allows himself to crash out for the night. If it’s one of the few angels on their side that did this for Sam – Dean was definitley buying them a few hundred beers.
Problem was all of the angels on their side with the exception of Cas were all wingprints on the ground.

Up early and on the road. It was Dean’s favorite time of day, balancing a cup of coffee on his thigh and roaring down the highway with Sam at his side and dawn just starting to touch the sky.

Now all they had to do was get into the city and hope that Sam’s luck held up long enough to get them close to whatever angel, or ex-angel, had done it. It was just past one when he finally turned the Impala towards the nearest bar for a bite to eat and a beer while they form up some kind of plan.

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Sam, on the other hand, spends most of the drive looking out the windows of the Impala or halfway to nodding off. He didn't entirely sleep well, having to force himself not to get out the DVD again. It had been months since he'd watched it, tired of the ache of things could have been, if only one or the other of them had been able to speak up. When he had slept, though, it had been filled with the same warm, golden light that had filled his dreams recently. So it hadn't been entirely bad.

Still, by the time one rolled around, Sam was more than ready to get out of the Impala and stretch his legs. He groaned as he stepped out of the car, stretching so that his back almost cracked.

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A quick stretch, realigning the back and Dean is headed towards the door. "Come on Sammy. I smell cheeseburgers." Man food. Just what he needed after a long drive.

The bar wasn't much different than any of the hundreds they'd been in before. Polished wood floor, tables, beer lights on the walls. Dean gave the place a quick once-over looking for anything out of the ordinary before dropping into one of the booths near the bar and picking up the menu.

So maybe he gapes just a bit when two beers are set down at the table by a freaking dead angel.

"Of all the bars in the world, you two meatheads happen to walk into mine." Gabriel was grinning easily at them, and doing his very level best not to stare at Sam. The spell was doing it's job, he could feel it humming in his bones. His very mortal bones.

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It's not like Dean's the only one gaping. Sam's doing his best impression of a fish out of water as well, his stomach twisting as he tries his best to sort out what's just happening.

Because Gabriel...Gabriel is alive and handing them beers. And Sam couldn't decide if he wanted to punch him or do something else.

Right now, the punching was winning out, which is why Sam forced his hands out flat on the table. "Somehow, I'm thinking this wasn't just coincidence."

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Seeing Sam.. it's like getting stabbed all over again. His chest is tight and he can't quite breathe as much as he'd like to. Needs to now, considering he's human.

"Probably not. Let me guess, someone tried to hit you with a car or something and it bounced off you like a superball. And you, being you, went and hit the books."

The spell was supposed to be unbreakable and more importantly, untrackable. Sam was supposed to live out his life safe and never really knowing that Gabriel had not only died for him, but he'd offered up his grace to keep him protected.

Fucking loopholes.

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"Knife, actually. Should have had my name on it and instead bounced off of me like I was Superman." Sam looks up at Gabriel, trying his best to keep his expression neutral. He's not sure how well he does, because he mostly feels angry and hurt. "It also seems to grant a stupid amount of luck when it comes to finding what you're looking for."

Which explained how they found a way to track the spell and how they found Gabriel at all.

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Anger he's used to. Most people were never terribly happy to see him in his old life. It's the hurt that surprises Gabriel for a long moment before it finally hits him.

"You watched the whole thing, didn't you?" His message to Sam. The one he wasn't sure he'd see. A declaration that he would have stayed for him. That he could have loved him. "You did. You watched everything."

He barely notices Dean sliding out of the booth. He'd always had his eyes on Sam, even back then. "So you're not here to ask why then."

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Gabriel may not notice Dean leaving, but Sam does. And he doesn't try to stop him because...because this is something that he and Gabriel apparently need to hash out between themselves. Dean knew about the message, after all.

"Not exactly," he says, pushing himself up straight to look Gabriel in the eye. "See, we were on our way to ask why. Seeing as, you know, the only angel we knew about who would willingly give up his Grace to protect me was dead and all."

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"And I should have been. I woke up in the same place maybe a year later. No one had recovered the bodies. Too much bad juju in a place like that where so many gods died. I don't know who brought me back Sam, before you even ask."

Since Dean is gone, Gabriel steals his beer. "Took another year before my grace was back in any sort of functioning shape. You hadn't retired, so.. I made a decision. After one last flight and building this bar, I cut out my grace and used it to protect you."

Right about here is where Gabriel expects to get hit. Being human, it's probably going to hurt too.

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He might actually have hit him if Sam wasn't working out the timelines on that. A year after his death, tracking Sam down wouldn't have done much good, what with him being without a soul and all. Another year and that was when Castiel had opened Purgatory.

Reaching up, Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. "We...you could have come to us, you know. Not just...carved out your Grace and did this." He made a motion to himself. "Which, by the way, seems to have had one hell of a time delay on it. It only actually started working in the last few months."

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“Considering how much trouble you two were already dodging? You kind of didn’t need me making both of you a bigger target. I’ve already got enough people hacked off at me, angel and pagan alike. If I showed up on your doorstep, they’d have followed.”

Not that he didn’t want to see Sam, to talk to him and tell him what he’d done and why. But given what he was dealing with? Distance seemed far safer.

Gabriel picks at the label on the bottle. “It’s not the easiest spell to put together. There are a lot of moving parts and it took time to get it working. Besides, you would have said no."

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"Well, you're entirely right about that." He still can't really believe it, that Gabriel carved out his own Grace to protect Sam. "I don't...I don't understand, I guess. I would rather have had you with us, enemies or not."

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He lays his hands flat on the table, looking down at them in a gesture oddly reminiscent of that last message he left on the DVD before facing down his brother. "I know Sam. And don't think that I didn't want to be there. Don't think that I didn't want to see you."

"It was the one way I'd know you were always safe. I needed you to be safe Sam. To get that chance to be happy."

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It takes a few moments, but Sam finally reaches over, placing his hands over Gabriel's. He's still hurt more than mad, but the urge to hit something is still there.

It's just that that something isn't really Gabriel anymore.

"I would have been happier knowing you were alive," he finally said. "Maybe not at first. There was...there was a lot of stuff going on about the time you were brought back. But I still would rather have known." It might have made other things so much easier.

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"Problem with being an average joe, even with the ridiculously high IQ. Sometimes I even make bad calls. No more power to poke at all the potential outcomes." Gabriel flips his hands so his palms are up beneath Sam's.

"It was enough for me to know that you were safe Sam. That whatever you were going up against, I'd be able to protect you."

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