I'm waking up, I feel it in my bones/Enough to make my systems blow

[fromfryingpantofire]

It's been six months since Sam had last gone out in Archangel Sword. Not that anybody ever calls her that; the Jaeger's name is "Baby" according to Dean and always will be. Most of that has been in recovery from the last fight. The Jaeger had been damaged when it took out the Kaiju -- codenamed "Ruby" -- and Sam's life support system had been flooded with Kaiju blood.

Sam doesn't remember it. Doesn't remember the fight at all, really. He'd been comatose for a month afterward, waking to find things had changed. He'd changed. Literally, actually, because he can't connect with Dean in the drift any more. Nobody's certain what happened, whether it was lack of oxygen or something in the Kaiju blood that Sam ingested while trying to breathe, but the result is the same. Sam can't drift with Dean any longer.

There's no good reason why he can't find somebody else to drift with again, though, which is why he's been in the kwoon combat room at least once every few days for the past two weeks. Now that Sam's back up to scratch, getting him back out into a Jaeger is important. Luckily, Dean had found a new drift partner fairly quickly, a newish recruit named Castiel. They'd taken to each other so easily that Sam almost couldn't feel too bad about being sidelined.

Almost.

He sighs, rolling his shoulders as he walks into the kwoon room, having been ordered there by Marshall Singer. Probably to face off against more new recruits.

"Marshall Singer," he says, kicking off his shoes at the edge of the mat before looking around and letting his eyes catch on the only other person in the room.

Comments

[redeemedhimself]

Sam wasn't the only one who had been ordered into the kwoon room that day. Gadreel had been without a Jager since Eden had fallen nearly a year ago. A good pilot had died and while no official blame had been cast, opinion among the other pilots was that the fault had been his - that somehow Gadreel had failed and not only cost the life of his co-pilot Eve, but the lives of a thousand civilians along the coast when the Class IV Kaiju, codenamed Lucifer, had decimated the city.

Since then he'd been a pilot without a Jager. Aimless. Court-martialed and cleared, but only by a razor thin margin. Marshall Singer had been the deciding vote.

Gadreel stepped out of his shoes, taking the mat before Sam, staff in hand. This was his last chance. Prove himself here or linger forever in disgrace.

[fromfryingpantofire]

Any pilot who blamed Gadreel hadn't been there to take Lucifer down. Baby had been among the Jaegers called in from other Shatterdomes to deal with it and, while they'd been the ones to get the killing blow in, it had taken the work of four Jaegers to put it down. And that was AFTER it had taken damage from Eden.

Sam may have gotten in a few fights with other Jaeger pilots after that Kaiju, defending Gadreel. So had Dean, he knew.

Marshall Singer looks at them both. "You know why you're here, boys. We can't afford to have two good pilots out when we need everybody possible on the front lines." He lets his gaze linger on Gadreel. "This ain't a last shot for anybody. There's still other pilots out there if this don't work out."

Which is all that Sam needs to hear. Because he knows that he's not the one worried about being forced out. He goes and picks up a staff, checking the weight of it before he moves to stand opposite Gadreel. And grins. "Hope you've been keeping up with your practice."

[redeemedhimself]

The opportunities would always be there - to find another pilot. But given how deep resentment ran among some of the pilots, Gadreel had begun to lose hope that any of them would be drift compatible with him. They might fight and move well together, but if that last component wasn't there? It meant nothing. One willing pilot wasn't enough to pilot a Jaeger.

He'd been surprised to find himself staring at Sam Winchester, one of the few Jaeger pilots who had come to his defense on more than one occasion. The only pilot to survive an influx of Kaiju blood into his system. A faint smile plays at his lips as he checks the balance of his own staff, padding lightly onto the mat.

"I have never taken a day away from it. I will admit, I am looking forward to testing my abilities against a pilot of your skill."

[fromfryingpantofire]

Sam takes a moment, stretching his arms and rolling his neck before he steps up across from Gadreel. "Good. Wouldn't want anybody getting rusty."

He brought the staff up, widening his stance and readying himself. "Well then. Let's see what you've got."

And it was easy. Almost as easy as fighting with Dean always had been. He could read Gadreel's lines, the way that he moved just as easily as he could always read Dean. Still could read Dean, except that it didn't feel the same way any more. Not like this.

[redeemedhimself]

Simple. Effortless. It was quietly stunning how well they moved together. He had seen Sam before in the kwoon room, watched him spar with his brother, but he'd never taken the mat with him before. He could watch Sam and know where he was going to move, how he was going to swing the staff even before his muscles shifted to act.

They could drift together. He could step into another Jager with a pilot that trusted him.

"Not bad," Marshall Singer declared. "Not bad at all. Want you two in for a test drift before we send you out. Last step before you two go live."

They don't need to test. Gadreel knows that when the time comes, he and Sam will be able to do it, but he nods all the same.

[fromfryingpantofire]

Sam is breathing hard, but that's because it had been pretty intense, getting lost in the give and take of the kwoon, in the almost drift that allowed them to go toe to toe and come out evenly. All the knowledge of somebody else's fighting style can't even do that, as Sam well knows now.

Still, he grins at the marshall and salutes him with the staff. "Sure thing, Bobby." The man's been more father to him and Dean than their own had been. So they pretty much are the only pilots who call him by his first name. Well, and Castiel now, thanks to drift bleed from Dean.

Marshall Singer huffs a bit. "Idjit," he says, shaking his head fondly. "Go. Get showered and something to eat before the test drift."

[redeemedhimself]

Gadreel hadn't felt a match like that since the first time he set foot in the kwoon with Eve. It was enough to melt away some of the lingering tension in his shoulders as the Marshall called off the battle, ordering them on to the next step. They would be given another Jaeger.

Another chance.

As they step outside of the kwoon, Gadreel pauses to look at Sam, head cocked curiously. "I must admit, I am a little curious. What does 'idjit' mean? Marshall Singer uses it rarely and only when he is referring to you, your brother or his new copilot."

[fromfryingpantofire]

The grin isn't letting up. Sam's feeling better than he has in all those months since he woke up and found himself unable to drift with Dean any longer. He's going to be giddy with it for a while.

Especially when he realizes that he and Gadreel have fallen into step with one another already.

He shakes his head, looking back at the kwoon before turning back to Gadreel. "Honestly? You're probably going to find yourself on the receiving end of it as well, now. But...it's kind of a term of endearment from him. I mean, it actually means 'idiot', but...well, he mostly raise me and Dean." Sam shrugs. "He's not good at feelings, so that's what works for him."

Not that Gadreel wouldn't find out soon enough that Sam and Dean weren't much better.

[redeemedhimself]

His family wasn't much better with affection, and Gadreel nods easily. They're already walking in sync, movements quick and confident. Two pilots on their way to another Jaeger. A fresh chance.

"Idiot," he ventures. "Well. I've been called far worse by my brothers."

A subtle joke, but at least it's a start. He's already comfortable enough with Sam to make the attempt.

[fromfryingpantofire]

"I've been called a lot worse by my brother." Of course, most of the Shatterdome knew the Winchester habit of calling each other 'jerk' or 'bitch', depending on the Winchester speaking. "He means well. Bobby, I mean. And he's a good man." Sam might have been biased, but he didn't think so.

"Anyway, come on. I learned a long time ago not to drift on an empty stomach. It only makes the hangover worse afterward."

[redeemedhimself]

"He is a good man. One of the best Marshalls in service," he agrees with a nod. It was hardly a secret that the Winchesters tended to have odd names for one another. Gadreel.. he almost found himself looking forward to earning one of his own. Belonging again.

Gadreel's smile widens a bit. "I think I would like that. Something to eat before we drift and wind up sharing that hangover." Not attempt to drift, but succeed at it. They will succeed and be able to stand on the line again.

The cafeteria is wide and expansive and Gadreel is more comfortable in there than he has been in a long while. He can stand beside Sam and not see the other eyes on him. No, his focus is on Sam and how well they're already fitting together. Walking in step, quiet glances that say more than enough.

[fromfryingpantofire]

Sam glances over and grins. "I hope you like salads, because you might end up eating a few." Which had always been the thing that Dean bitched about most with drift bleed.

Well, that and the fact that he tended to buy Sam's favorite shampoo, too.

Not that Sam doesn't still have things from drifting with Dean. It would always be there.

Case in point, he picks up a cheeseburger without thinking as he goes through the cafeteria line. "I know we'll find out everything about each other in a little while, but I suppose we should talk first."

[redeemedhimself]

He knows all about the drift bleed. He couldn't eat a fig or an apple without thinking of Eve. She'd loved fruit so much. Gadreel picks up an apple, adding it to his plate and regarding the salads with a curious glance. He'd never considered much in the way of greens, but he picks up a smaller plate of it and adds it to his tray, in addition to a few slices of cheese and nuts. Simple fare, but it was what he preferred.

"Yes. Perhaps that is best that we get to know one another a bit before we drift." Little things they should prepare for, warning signs that they should watch, all of the smaller details that came with a drift. "What would you like to know?"

[fromfryingpantofire]

On the other hand, Sam had learned as a child to eat when he could. Something that definitely served him in good stead in the Shatterdome, when they could be called out at any moment. The cafeteria was open most hours of the day, but Sam did his best to confine his eating to normal meal times. Unless there was a reason for him to miss, like being out in a Jaeger.

Not that he's had to worry about that for a while now.

Sam leads the way to one of the tables, the one where his brother and Castiel often sit. It's as much habit as anything else, but it's a welcoming spot, so far as Sam is concerned. "Well. I don't know much about you from before the Jaeger program. Where did you grow up? I know you mentioned brothers, but any sisters?"

[redeemedhimself]

"I grew up near Haven - at the orphanage there." Sometimes after an attack, the death toll was staggering and there were children left behind with no one to turn to, no family to reach, no one to take care of them. So places like Haven were born, large orphanages for the lost children.

"I was brought there with several of my brothers after a large scale attack on the city. Gabriel, Michael and Abel. I knew Castiel there as well - before he left for the program."

[fromfryingpantofire]

Sam nods, digging into his salad. "I didn't know that Cas knew anybody else in the program." It really shouldn't have been that much of a surprise, though. "Dean and I are second generation Jaeger pilots. Our parents were among the first to be accepted into the program. They died taking out Yellow-Eyes." A Class IV that had been brought down nearly eight years before. "Dean and I were still in training when it happened. Marshall Singer...Bobby. He'd been a family friend for a lot of years. He took us in when their Jaeger went down."

He blinks and shakes his head. "Do you keep in touch with your brothers?"

[redeemedhimself]

"I'm sorry." And the response isn't the usual, formulaic one. Pilots know what it's like to lose someone on the line, friends, family, even lovers. It was a loss you never really recovered from. You simply grieved and moved on. "I am glad that he was there to take you in and keep you together."

He shakes his head slowly, fiddling with the fig on his plate. "We were never close, and most of them haven't spoken to me since Eden fell. But some of them, it's not their fault. Gabriel, he travels all over the world to find funding for the Shatterdomes, to keep our systems funded and running." A faint, fond smile. "He is.. quite the impressive talker."

[fromfryingpantofire]

"I think I got a chance to talk to him not long after I woke up." Sam hmms as he thinks, poking at his food. "Not in person, over the phone. I remember the name Gabriel, at least, and that he wanted to know if he could use my image and story to help. I didn't have a problem with that."

Even better was the fact that the man had asked. Had asked Dean, too. Their contracts explicitly stated that their images could be used as needed, but it was still nice of the man to ask to do so instead of just doing it.

[redeemedhimself]

Gadreel nods at the story. "Gabriel is a bit like a hurricane, but he means well. He would never manipulate the story of a pilot, or even use it without permission. He is a good man." Easily one of the few brothers that he both cared about and respected. "He sends a tin of chocolate to me every year on my birthday."

"He could never drift, so Gabriel used his gifts in other ways, to help us as best he could." He should write to him, tell his brother that he had found a new pilot, that he had another chance at a Jager.

"Of my older brothers, he is by far the kindest."

[fromfryingpantofire]

"I'm sorry the rest of them aren't so great." Sam shakes his head. "Dean and I were Mom's only children. We have a half brother by Dad. His name's Adam and he's working toward a medical degree in Wisconsin. I know he'd rather be out and helping, but Dean and I have both told him that he'd do best by doing what he always wanted to do."

No use keeping the information about Adam back, after all. Gadreel would find out soon enough. "He's a good kid. We help him out as much as we can, though that's dwindled a lot since funding's been cut." Not to mention pilot pay. "Luckily, he's also damned smart and on scholarships."

[redeemedhimself]

"I have Gabriel. It is enough to have some family." For a moment, Gadreel fiddles with his fork as he considers something. Pilots aren't paid much. Most of the time they're given just enough to cover a few expenses, a few personal items and that was it. They had room, board and room to train.

"Medical skills are badly needed, I am glad that your brother is doing well." A breath. "I could write to my brother, perhaps he could help him find additional scholarships?"

[fromfryingpantofire]

He pauses, considering that. There's a part of him that wants to say no, that they'd be all right on their own. But pilot pay had been cut again and again. They didn't really need the money since most things were paid for, but it makes getting Adam through school so much more difficult.

After a moment, though, Sam nods. "If he could help, that would be great. I mean, most of his schooling is already paid for with the scholarships he has. But he could always use some more to get room, board and his textbooks taken care of, you know?"

[redeemedhimself]

It was a show of trust on Sam's part, to allow him that much and Gadreel is grateful for it. After all, very soon they would have a test drift and know absolutely everything about one another. "Then I will message him tonight. After the drift. I am sure Gabriel will do whatever he can to make matters easier for your brother."

He was hardly conventional, but Gabriel was loyal to those that he cared about, to family. If Sam was to truly be his co-pilot, then in Gabriel's mind, that made him family. Most of the time Gadreel didn't quite understand his brother. But he loved him.

Their meal complete, Gadreel gathered up his dishes, nodding at Sam. Eager for the final test.

"Are you ready?"

[fromfryingpantofire]

Gadreel will soon see that Sam doesn't trust many people. But the fact that Gadreel doesn't have to see into his head for Sam to tell him things means that, yes, he does trust him. It's the greatest extension of trust he can give before they drift.

Taking a breath and finishing his coffee, Sam gathers up his dishes as well. "Ready as I'm going to be. Though I haven't gotten this far with anybody since Dean." It might break him if he has this torn away at the last moment. But the feeling from the kwoon room is still there. Gadreel is drift compatible with him. He just hopes that it's enough.

[redeemedhimself]

Most pilots were hesitant when it came to matters of trust. The drift is as raw and exposed as one can possibly be and sharing that doesn't come easy. Add in the danger of fighting kaiju that swim up from the rift and it makes for a fairly cagey bunch. But he knows that Sam is a good man. A good pilot and one that he could see himself in a Jaeger with.

Gadreel knows that he shouldn't trust to hope, but he can't shake the feeling as they walk towards the control center. He could close his eyes and know exactly where Sam was, his pace and how he took in his surroundings as they moved. A body in constant motion.

They were going to do this. They were going to drift.