Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The cave was dark and wet, the smell of blood thick in the air, mixing with the cold damp stone. Sam’s last scream echoed sharply through the shadowed chamber.

“Dean!”

It was the last thing anyone heard before the vampires swarmed him. Sharp teeth, claws, dragging him beneath the ground with brutal efficiency... Dean lunged forward, desperate, but Cas caught him, holding him back with a strength born of both love and pain.

“Dean, no!” Cas pleaded, eyes wide with grief. Dean struggled, tried to break free, tried to chase the monsters who had taken his brother away. But Cas held him firm, knowing it was hopeless.

Gabriel stood frozen a few steps away. The moment was seared into his mind: Sam’s scream, Dean’s broken attempt, the gleam of death in the vampires’ eyes. Yet, he could do nothing. The archangels’ grace within him was dimming, almost gone, and for all his power, he was powerless now.

The others didn’t linger. Dean, Cas, Gabriel, and Maggie fled that cave without looking back. The fight was lost. The light was out.

Hours later, Gabriel sat in the dim corner of the resistance camp – the hidden fortress of survivors and fighters nestled deep in the ruins of the Apocalypse world. Jack was nearby, pacing anxiously, trying to make sense of the chaos.

“Why didn’t you bring him back?”

Jack’s voice was sharp, almost accusing, his young face creased with worry.

Cas was silent, eyes cast downward. Gabriel alone managed to answer, his voice raw, a whisper heavier than stone.

“I couldn’t.”

He had repeated those words over and over inside his head, the bitter taste refusing to fade.

His grace was drained. His strength had been used up trying to save others, trying to hold the line. And Sam… Sam was gone.

The hours crawled by. The camp buzzed with quiet voices and suppressed fear. But then — out of the gloom, Sam appeared.

Alive.

For a moment, Gabriel’s heart skipped, hope flooding like wildfire. The weight in his chest lightened, breath catching painfully in his throat.

But then Lucifer stepped into the circle of light behind Sam — his pale, smirking, infuriating presence casting a shadow over everything.

Sam looked smaller than ever, guilt etched deep into his features. His eyes flicked to Gabriel briefly, then dropped away.

Gabriel’s first instinct was to rush forward, to hold Sam in his arms, to promise he would never let go. But Dean beat him to it.

Dean’s arms wrapped tightly around Sam, pulling him close in a fierce embrace.

Gabriel stood back, his throat tight, watching the two brothers cling to each other.

He knew, deep down, how much it must have hurt Sam to be touched by Lucifer’s hands again, to have that darkness brushing against his soul and stitching up the wounds that Gabriel couldn’t.

Gabriel had failed Sam. Failed him so completely it ached.

The weight of that failure settled like a stone in Gabriel’s chest, and for the first time in millennia, the archangel felt utterly broken, powerless, and lost.

Chapter Text

Night had fallen over the ragged camp like a dark velvet curtain, and the stars above barely pierced the heavy clouds. The air was thick with smoke from the small fire burning in the clearing, its flickering orange glow painting long shadows across the scattered tents and battered weapons.

Sam sat alone on a fallen log, knees pulled close, eyes fixed on the dancing flames. His body still ached from the wounds Lucifer had sewn back together, but it was the weight inside his chest, the exhaustion of being pulled back from death by the Devil, that wore him down most.

Gabriel approached slowly, his footsteps almost silent on the soft earth. He settled beside Sam without a word, letting the crackling fire fill the silence between them.

“You shouldn’t be alone,” Gabriel said finally, voice low.

Sam gave a small, tired smile. “Neither should you. You look like you need company.”

Gabriel’s smile was bittersweet. “I’m tired,” he admitted. “More than I can say. But seeing you alive...” He hesitated. “It’s a relief.”

Sam’s gaze flicked toward Gabriel. “It’s not your fault, you know. What happened in that cave. You did everything you could.”

Gabriel shook his head slowly, eyes fixed on the fire. “I failed you. I should have been stronger. I should have brought you back.”

Sam’s hand brushed against Gabriel’s, light and tentative. “You didn’t run. That means everything. You stayed when so many others left.”

Gabriel swallowed hard.

“Well, I promised I’d stay. Also, once this is all over, I’m coming back to the bunker with you and Dean and the others. Your brother said he doesn't mind.”

Sam’s smile softened, a flicker of hope shining through the weariness. “I’m glad. I want you there.”

Gabriel reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, battered CD case. He held it out to Sam, the faintest trace of a hopeful grin on his lips.

“I recorded it myself,” Gabriel said quietly. “I’m low on grace, so this is the best I could do. In the best possible, human way. Just one song. And some words I came up with.”

Sam took the CD, fingers brushing Gabriel’s briefly. “I promise I’ll listen to it. When we’re back at the bunker. No matter what.”

Gabriel nodded, relief settling over his features. “Good. That’s all I ask.”

Sam hesitated, then did something Gabriel didn’t expect – he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around him.

"Thank you, Gabriel. For this – for staying this time. I needed that."

Gabriel froze, surprised by the sudden warmth.

But then Sam pulled him tighter.

Gabriel stiffened for a heartbeat, then relaxed, allowing himself to lean into the embrace. Still, after a moment, Gabriel gently pulled away, standing and stretching like a bear waking from hibernation.

“Well, I’m officially calling you half Hulk, half teddy bear.”

Sam smirked, eyes softening.

Gabriel glanced back over his shoulder, voice light but tinged with something else. Fear?

“So... I’m gonna bounce. Don’t follow. Because if you do, you’ll see me run away. Like a coward. And I’m not ready to explain why yet. Listen to the CD when we're back and then... Tell me what you think.”

Sam watched him leave, a chill settling in his chest.

Gabriel always joked and ran when he was afraid. But from what was he running this time around?

Frankly, Sam didn’t have any answer to that.

Chapter Text

The air outside the rift crackled, unstable and full of tension. The time to leave was now. One by one, the others began crossing through. Maggie first, Jack next, then Mary, and the rest of the resistance.

Sam paused just long enough to glance over his shoulder. And that’s when Michael descended.

Grace like lightning. Wings like razors. A face too perfect to be human and far too cold to be kind.

Everyone stopped.

And then Gabriel stepped forward.

“Hello, brother,” he said, voice firm, grounded. There was something different in him. No trickery. No usual smugness. Just courage.

Gabriel turned, locking eyes with Sam.

“Go,” he said quietly. “I’ll save you some time. All I’ve been doing all my life is run. And I’m not running anymore.”

“Gabriel, no!” Sam shouted, voice cracking, feet rooted in place.

Gabriel didn’t answer. He turned back toward Michael. Then they clashed.

It was fast. Too fast. Grace and steel and fury and grief. Sam couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

Gabriel was brilliant – gold and light and fury. But Michael was precise. Deadly. Unrelenting.

Sam watched it happen. Watched Gabriel fall.

Watched his body crumple, wings flickering faintly behind him before vanishing like smoke.

And then Dean’s voice, yelling. “Sam! We have to go!”

Sam didn’t remember running. He barely remembered shoving Lucifer out of the way, pushing him back with a strength born of rage. The archangel snarled, furious. Luckily, the rift snapped closed a second later, stranding Lucifer in that doomed world forever.

Sam fell forward into his own, while Gabriel stayed behind.

Dead. Again.

The celebration was muted. It should have felt like victory.

Jack was laughing, Maggie was smiling, even Rowena poured drinks. Sam faked it well. A quiet chuckle here, a lifted glass there. He answered questions, accepted hugs. He smiled when Dean mentioned Gabriel once, in passing.

But there was no spark in Sam's eyes. No warmth in his chest.

When Rowena leaned in and asked softly, “You alright, Samuel?” Sam just nodded.

Because what was he supposed to say?

"The man I love died for me. Again. And I never even got to tell him I loved him. And now I have no idea, if he ever loved me back."

That night, long after everyone else had gone to bed, Sam sat on his bed in the bunker, the light from his desk lamp casting shadows on the walls.

The CD sat untouched beside him. He stared at it for a long time, hands trembling.

Then he put it into the player. A soft whirr. A moment of static. Then the opening chords played.

Sam froze. He knew that song. He actually chuckled – quiet, bitter.

“Dean called this emo rock for chicks.”

Frankly, Dean wasn’t wrong.

But Sam kind of liked the band. At the very least, he knew the song. But never had he thought someone would dedicate it to him.

At first, he wondered if it was a joke. A prank. Maybe Dean told Gabe about his “guilty pleasure” playlist.

But no. It didn’t feel like a joke. Then the lyrics hit. Sam listened in.

 • But you'll never fight alone
'Cause I wanted you to know

Sam’s heart squeezed. Was this… was this a love confession?

• That the world is ugly
But you're beautiful to me
Well, are you thinking of me now?
Like I'm thinking of you?

His eyes burned.

“Yeah, Gabriel. I am. And I don’t like where this is going,” he whispered. “Don’t you dare. This better be a practical joke.”

• I would say I'm sorry, though.

Though I really need to go...

“No,” Sam muttered. “You just came back. I patched you up. I washed blood off of your body. You promised to stay. Not fair. This is not. Fair.”

• I just wanted you to know
That the world is ugly,
But you're beautiful to me!

Sam didn’t realize he was crying until he felt the tears slipping past his cheeks, hot and relentless.

• Are you thinking of me?

“I do,” he said aloud. “Gabriel. I do. I have been, since that day at the Elysian Fields. I missed you then. And I miss you now.”

He was full-on bawling now – shoulders shaking, breath broken, heart ripped open.

• Stop your crying, helpless feeling
Dry your eyes and start believing
There's one thing they'll never take from you...

“Michael did,” Sam choked out. “He took you.”

The music faded with a soft click, and then there was a low hum — static at first, like the mic was too close to Gabriel’s mouth.

Then Sam heard a familiar voice.

“Okay. Deep breath, Gabriel. You can do this. You’ve fought gods, you’ve conned the Devil. Just... say it.”

There was a pause. Then a shaky laugh.

“Hi, Sam. Uh... if you’re hearing this, I guess things went sideways. Or I chickened out and couldn't bring myself to tell you all this face-to-face. Again. Honestly, that’s pretty on-brand for me.”

Sam blinked hard. His throat was already tight, eyes glassy. He didn’t dare move.

“I’m probably in the bunker right now, hiding in the library like a teenage girl who just passed her crush a note in study hall. You know, biting my lip, watching the door, terrified you’ll actually show up.”

A beat of silence.

“So... surprise. It’s me. Gabriel. Archangel. Trickster. Coward.”

Sam flinched. He knew where this was going. He hated it. He craved it for so long, but now he hated it.

“I’ve been in love with you for a long time, Sam. Like... embarrassingly long. Ever since Crawford Hall, if I’m honest. Yep. Janitor mop in hand, bleach on my shoes, watching you try to save some random college kid’s soul. That was the first time I looked at a human and thought — shit. This one. I’m in trouble.”

Sam’s mouth parted. His fingers dug into the blanket. Crawford Hall. That was eleven years ago. The whole eleven years. More than a decade. Sam was there, and the worst part? He felt it too.

Not. Fair.

“But I didn’t know, you know? I didn’t understand what I was feeling. Not at the time. So I did what I always do — I ran. I ran straight into one of the cruelest things I’ve ever done.”

Another pause. Then:

“Mystery Spot.”

Sam’s blood ran cold.

“You remember, right? Tuesday. Again. Again. Again. Dean dying in a million ways, and you... breaking. I told myself it was to teach you a lesson. That you had to let go. But really... I think I just wanted to get close. And instead I ripped you apart.”

Gabriel exhaled, voice cracking ever so slightly.

“I saw you cry. Break down right there in front of me. And it hurt. More than I ever thought anything could. Made something in me curl up and die. That’s when I knew... I felt something for you. Real. Deep. And dangerous.”

“So, naturally, I wrapped it in a joke. A fake doctor. Cheesy soap opera lines. Slapping your pretty face and pretending it was all about you being afraid to love. When really? That was me.”

Sam shut his eyes, jaw clenched. He remembered that slap. The nurse’s line. "You're afraid to love." He never imagined that was Gabriel projecting his own terror.

“Then came Elysian Fields. You remember that night, right? I showed up, all blaze-of-glory, pretending to be there for Kali. Total crap. I was never there for her.”

“I was there for you, Sam.”

Sam inhaled sharply, shaking.

“I looked you in the eye, then told Lucifer he was wrong about humans, told him I was loyal to your kind — and I was. Because of you. That night, I knew for sure. I loved you. Loved you enough to try tricking my own brother, enough to stand in front of the Devil and say to myself, 'I’d rather die than see Sam break again.' And if dying was the price? So be it.”

“Spoiler alert: it was. But not quite.”

A humorless chuckle.

"Then came the whole Loki debacle. Asmodeus. Torture. I didn’t think I’d make it out. But every time the whip cracked, or the blade drew lines across my skin, pulling my grace out, I just thought... Worth it. If Sam’s alive because of what I did that night... It’s all worth it. So I endured."

Sam was crying again. Not graceful tears — these were heavy, chest-wrenching sobs.

“I didn’t know about Lucifer. Or the Cage. I didn’t know how much you were suffering while I was gone. But when I got to the bunker and saw you again? God, Sam. I held onto you like a lifeline. Though later I pretended it was nothing. Got scared of what i felt. I told myself I could get over it. I ran again. Then came back and dared to ask for help. Again – you see the pattern. I'm a coward.”

“I even — ugh. Okay. Time to confess the other shameful part.”

Sam braced.

“Rowena. Yeah. I’m sorry you walked in. I’m sorry Dean walked in. I’m sorry everyone walked in. Believe me, nothing sobers you up like Cas’ judgmental face.”

A sniffle, a breath, like he was holding back a laugh and a cry at the same time.

“But it didn’t change anything. I didn’t want her. I wanted you. Always you. For years. Through blood and fire and bad TV references. You’re it, Sam.”

“And I never got to say it. Not to your face.”

“So here it is.”

Another pause. A breath.

“I love you, Sam Winchester.”

Sam whimpered out loud, curling in on himself.

“If I’m not there – I’m sorry. If I am... I’ll be in the library. Probably rearranging lore books alphabetically like a maniac. Waiting for you. Dreading seeing you.”

“But if you feel it too... come find me. Kiss me. Hug me. Tell me I’m an idiot and you love me back.”

“If you don’t... if you can’t... I’ll survive. I’ll fake a smile, crack a joke. We can pretend this never happened. You can call it a fever dream.”

A pause.

“But I had to say it. Because it’s only fair. And if this is goodbye... Don't even want to think about it.”

"Alright, Sam. I said all of it. I love you. I have, for eleven years now. And, honestly? I always will. Even if you don't feel the same. I will never stop loving you. You've heard it – I tried."

"You're the most precious human in the entire world. You're the one I'm willing to spend forever with. I know I'm not perfect, but please..."

"Let me hold you. Or reject me. Just find me and say something. Don't leave me hanging. Please."

Click.

Silence.

Just Sam’s breath. Just the sound of his own tears falling against the floor.

His hands were shaking. His chest was tight. His throat felt torn from trying to swallow sobs that just wouldn’t stay buried.

Gabriel had been in love with him since Crawford Hall. Since the Trickster days. Eleven years ago.

Eleven. Fucking. Years.

And now he was gone.

“Gabriel…” he whispered to the empty room. The weight of lost time, lost chances, and broken hope pressed down on him. His heart shattered and bled in the silence.

He wanted to run to the library. To find Gabriel, to hold him, to tell him everything.

But all he could do was sit there, trembling.

Because the world truly was ugly like that. The reality was cruel.

And Gabriel was dead.

Sam buried his face in his hands, the CD still spinning in the player, and whispered into the quiet:

“I love you too.”

But there was no one left to hear it. Only silence. And the ugly, unbearable ache of what could’ve been.