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“Wanna hear a song, Sam? I know how much you love it when I play for you.”
Anytime, Gabriel.
Sam’s words whispered through the wind, soft and loving, and it brought a tear to Gabriel’s eye. The summer grass crunched under his feet as he stepped forward, reaching out a trembling hand to rub gently against the smooth stone.
“Always for you, my love.”
With a wavering voice, Gabriel whispered a few words of Enochian. The grace within him swelled, bled through his vessel and danced around him until it settled into Gabriel’s outstretched palm. It stretched and shaped, this long hidden gift from his Father forming before him.
He never wanted it, the Horn to sound the apocalypse, but now as the shining gold lay heavy in his hand, he was never more certain to use it.
There was a moment of stillness. The air hung heavy as Gabriel’s body shuddered, his eyes downcast. The Horn vibrated in his grip, begging to cry out and raise a heavenly army, for its only purpose to be filled. And, standing here, Gabriel was more than happy to oblige in its desire.
“Do you think that’s a good idea?”
Red rimmed eyes rose to meet the hard stare of the entity that appeared before him.
“Billie.” Gabriel greeted the new Death coldly, his whole body tensing under her eye.
“Gabriel,” she answered casually, her scythe glinting in the light. “Are you sure you know what you're doing?”
Gabriel’s eyes narrowed, anger rolling off of him in waves. “How dare you ask me that.”
“We’ve already avoided one apocalypse, Gabriel. Are you really willing to start another one? Just to bring one man back onto the chess board?”
Anger faded immediately, sadness once again taking over Gabriel as he thought about his lover. “You don't understand!”
“Sam Winchester walked willingly into the Empty,” Billie sneered.
“Don't give me any of that bullshit!” Gabriel cried, tears forming in his eyes again. “You took him away from me!”
“No, Gabriel. He came to me in his own time. Death doesn't go seeking.”
The tears fell freely as Gabriel shook his head, looking to the sky as he thought of Sam. “I-” he whispered through the tears, “I just want him back.”
“Maybe,” Billie said as she walked a step closer to the wounded archangel, “the things we want, are the things we shouldn't have.”
Gabriel felt himself break on the inside, thinking about the void in his life. His friend, lover, his everything. His grace roiled as he remembered Sam, and his hands twitched around the Horn in his hand.
“Gabriel...” Billie warned, watching as Gabriel’s grace fell out of him in waves. Around Sam Winchester’s tombstone, lilies sprouted and grew, aided by the onslaught of heaven’s light.
And Gabriel lifted the Horn to his lips.