Short drabble [Sabriel]
Sam brought his hands close to his parted lips and breathed on them, attempting to warm them up. He rubbed them together and stuffed the cold fingertips into his pants pockets. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he makes to follow after Dean into the building he disappeared in moments ago.
It didn't make sense. Ever since Gabriel died, Sam’s hands had been freezing cold and he has yet to find a way to warm them up for more than a few warm seconds. When he tried to consult Dean about it, he shrugged and walked away, leaving Sam to his own thoughts. It didn't matter though. They had bigger problems than to deal with why Sam's hands wouldn't warm up.
It wasn't until Sam gave himself to Lucifer did he find out; from Lucifer himself, in fact.
“You don't know it, do you?” Lucifer asked, standing in front of a mirror which reflected Sam’s fury. “I always knew my brother had a soft spot for you but like this?” Sam looked up, confusion written across his puppy-like features. “Brother?” He asked. “Which brother?”
Lucifer rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Which brother, he asks,” he mumbled. “Gabriel, of course. Who else?” Sam’s expression only got more confused. Eventually, it dissipated and he scoffed. “Gabriel? Why would Gabriel have a soft spot for me?”
Lucifer chuckled lightly. “You'd be surprise on how much Gabriel cares for you. In fact, I would go so far as to say he was even in love with you; and I can't really blame him. You have that personality that attracts people and pulls them in.”
Sam rolled his eyes as Lucifer stared at him. “Actually, that's why your hands have been so cold since I killed him,” he said. “Gabriel lacks a physical form so at this point he's what you humans would call a ghost. Somewhat, not entirely. He's been holding your hand the whole time. But of course you wouldn't know that since you can't see him.”
Sam looked down at this hands, turning them over to face them from the palm to the back of his hand. They weren't cold now, probably since Gabriel knows Sam isn't Sam anymore. He looked back up at Lucifer. “How do I know you're not lying?”
Lucifer shrugged, putting his (Sam’s) own hands in the pockets of his jeans. He tilted his head to the left a bit. “Tell me Sam, why would I lie?”
Sam looked down at his dirty shoes. Lucifer was right. Why would he lie?