Chapter Text
I - THE BEGINNING
Things had gone from bad to worse in the span of a week. You and Dean had lost six people on a supply run, croats were running rampant, and an illness had swept through the camp. Gabriel did what he could, but what with keeping Cas from spiraling after the complete loss of his grace. . . He could only do so much. Yet it seemed to you that Gabriel and Dean were spending more and more time together. For a moment, you thought they might be bonding– but you knew better. You knew they weren’t bonding over their daddy issues and lost brothers. . . Cas claimed ignorance and Chuck refused to be left alone with you. Gabriel would change the subject and Dean asked, rather pointedly, “Don’t you want us to get along?”
It was aggravating. You didn’t like being left in the dark.
You step out into the cold but don’t leave the porch of the cabin you shared with Gabriel. Looking up at the moonless sky, you sigh. Cas had gone with Dean and Gabriel on–on whatever the hell it was. You knew they were still in the camp–could feel Gabriel just on the edge of your soul, hovering. Besides: Dean had sworn they weren’t leaving, and while you knew he was keeping things from you, he didn’t lie. At least not to you.
When Gabriel’s grace coils anxiously, you look out into the dark yard sharply. Yet it was only the last three members of your family, the last three people you loved unconditionally, crossing towards you. You turn to meet them as they come onto the porch and frown. None of Gabriel’s faces held any expression, Dean had adopted his surly I’m in Charge look, and Cas– yet Cas looked anxious. Dean frowned at him briefly when he saw you looking.
“Let’s go inside,” Dean suggests. “It’s fucking cold out here.”
You stay quiet and head in first, your eyes adjusting quickly to the oil lamp’s light.
“Are you finally gonna tell me what you two are sneaking off all hours of the day for?” you demand.
“We aren’t–”
“You are, Dean,” you cut him off. “Chuck refuses to be left alone with me, Cas here looks like he’s expecting the worst. And you, Gabe? I know how much effort it takes you to hide from me.”
At least he doesn’t wave off your concerns. “We aren’t hiding from you, sweetheart. Dean just had something to ask of me.”
“And he agreed,” Dean adds quickly, like–like he’s afraid, almost. You don’t like it. “Listen, (Y/N/N), the demons lately. . . hell, the croats lately–they’re gunning for us hard. Especially you.”
“Don’t.”
Dean continues on as if you hadn’t spoken. “So–So, yeah, I talked to Gabriel. ‘Cause, (Y/N). . . I ain’t losing you to this. Not you too.”
Your anxiety crests. “Don’t.”
“Listen to me, sweetheart,” Gabriel begins, and his tone is so placating that you take a step back. “Neither of us are willing to lose you to this. We’ve had this conver–”
“And so I’m supposed to lose you?” you demand of Dean. “To leave you here to drink yourself into a stupor or get yourself killed on a supply run?”
“I’m going to be here for Dean,” Cas says calmly, and he’s closer to you than you had been.
“No,” you refute, shaking your head. “Absolutely not.”
Gabriel’s grace is–it’s tumultuous.
Dean tries again. “(Y/N/), he still wants to get you. And just cuz he’s riding Sammy to the prom doesn’t mean he’s gonna be fucking gentle about it! Bobby and Jo and Ellen and–”
“Don’t you dare,” you seethe. “I’d give–I’d give anything to bring them back!”
“This isn’t optional.”
You glare at Gabriel, and not for the first time, you’re terribly aware of the implications of having an archangel call dibs on your soul. “You know what, Gabriel? Take your grace and shove it!”
Cas places a hand on your elbow and you’re so wired and terrified and unwilling that you jut the elbow back, connecting with his nose. Dean looks startled and nearly takes a step forward. Cas stumbles sideways but the look in Gabriel’s eyes is too determined. And part of you realizes you can’t fight him–not him, not with his grace tucked against your soul like some damn sleeper agent.
He says your name.
“You can’t do this! What the fuck, Dean!”
Because if you were sequestered away from this fight–
Gabriel shifts, but Dean raises his hand and your archangel stops. You’re shaking as your twin approaches you–his jaw is tight, his battle not to cry clearer to you than anything else in this moment.
“Don’t do this to me,” you whisper. “Dean, we’re supposed to do this together. We’re supposed to go out together.”
Your twin wraps his arms around you and you latch on. Your vision blurs through the tears.
Dean’s voice is quiet, as if Gabriel and even Cas couldn’t hear him. “I only ever wanted you safe, (Y/N). You know that, right? You know that I love you?”
“Dean, of course I know that. Of course I do. I love you, too. That’s why I’m telling you that you can’t do this.”
Dean presses a kiss to your temple as he leans back, grasping your hands in his. His voice cracks as he says, “I don’t have a choice. Don’t forget I love you.”
Your tunnel vision clears and you see Cas off to your left, hand and nose bloodied, eyes wet with tears. And you see Gabriel, one hand stretched out towards you and you panic, trying to shift your hold on Dean because between the two of them–
Dean turns you both and Gabriel wraps his hand around your forearm and Dean is staring at you and Cas is at his side—always, his constant—and no matter how hard you fight, no matter how hard you try to dislodge Gabriel—his grip is iron. As his hand curls around your forearm, his grace wraps itself around your soul, encasing it. You can hear the hum of his wings as he spreads them out, reaching high into the tiny cabin—
“Dean.”
Gabriel flies you both away so quickly that the cabin at Camp Chitaqua simply molds itself into the villa in the Maldives. You don’t look away from where Dean had been standing. You don’t move until Gabriel slides his hand off your arm and murmurs your name. You spin and punch him–and he lets you, even going as far as protecting your hand so you don’t break it against his nose. You can see it now–the guilt–but you feel so betrayed–so crushed, so heartbroken . . . so angry, that you say nothing. You turn away from him and go into the bathroom, sliding the door shut with as much force as you can muster. And then you sink to the floor and you weep.
You aren’t sure how long you stay in there, but your eyes are red and puffy when you finally get to your feet. You don’t give your reflection much thought but push aside the door and turn into the main living space. Gabriel has nearly run a hole in the flooring but he falters his pacing, turning to face you.
“Take me back.”
He sighs deeply. “I can’t do that.”
“Bullshit. You brought me here, now take me back.”
“(Y/N), I can’t. When Dean came to me, asking if I could keep you safe from the apocalypse—and he was right, sweetheart: the demons and croatoans have been targeting you more frequently. He knew that, and he wasn’t willing to risk you.”
“You’ve been keeping me safe this whole time!” you object. “You didn’t need to–”
“Yes, I did!” he shouts. “My failure was inevitable if I didn’t get you off the frontline so I told Dean that the only way I could guarantee your safety would be to take you someplace off the main line. This villa is warded up the ass, or haven’t you realized that? I doubt my own Father could find this place with how much I’ve put into it over the years, because I knew I might–”
“We had this conversation, Gabriel! I didn’t want–”
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he says bitterly, his grace flaring behind his golden eyes, “but right now, I don’t care what you want. I am going to keep you safe, even if you hate me for it.”
You bite back your bitter retort. Likely he knew how resentful you were feeling. Undoubtedly he knew you felt betrayed.
You don’t talk to Gabriel for two weeks.
He tries–he asks how you slept (like he didn’t already know), he asks how you are feeling (as if that had changed). . . And he makes small talk: he tells you about points in history that he remembers (fondly or not so), he tells you about the early days of Creation, and he tries so damn hard to make you laugh. Sometimes you look his way to let him know you have heard him, but most of the time. . . you act like you can’t hear him. It’s enough to make the grace against your soul anxious.
Most of the time, you stare out at the endless sea.
When you finally decide Gabriel has suffered your silence long enough, your voice is hoarse from disuse.
“I need to be there.”
He had been in the middle of a tirade about how platypuses were clearly superior to beavers when he stops and stares at you. He is quiet for nearly five minutes, so you aren’t sure if he was rebooting or if he simply thought he had imagined you speaking.
Finally, he stands from the couch.
“You need to be where, sweetheart?”
“With Dean.”
Gabriel looks crestfallen.
“You know I can’t take you back. Getting you here was enough of a risk– that’s why I flew so quickly. If I–”
“I mean when he’s dying,” you interrupt. “I can’t–I–Please don’t let me not be able to say goodbye again.” Realization flickers across Gabriel’s features. “Don’t let him die alone.”
Gabriel approaches you tentatively.
“You understand that it will likely be my brother who kills him.”
You understood that very well–had had nightmares about it ever since Sam said “yes” in Detroit. Which is why—
“If Dean dies. . . Gabe, he’s the last line of defense. You’ve taken me off the playing board. The angels don’t care. It’s just Dean and Cas, a-and. . .” You take a breath. “If Dean dies, all he’s gonna see is Sam.”
“You can’t look at him,” Gabriel snaps. “(Y/N), when he rose Death–”
“No, I can’t look at him. And I wouldn’t need to.”
Gabriel’s golden eyes flicker towards your sternum, where his grace has been coiled tightly over the last two weeks. Like he’s trying to discern something from it. And if the flicker-turned-flame of hell no you yourself are able to discern is anything to go by, he realizes what you’re saying.
“That’s suicide,” Gabriel says shortly. “I understand wanting to be with Dean when he dies–and if he goes any other way, fine, I’ll take you– but Dad help me, (Y/N) Winchester: I’m not taking you back so you can try and kill Lucifer.”
“I’d be able to.”
Gabriel’s jaw audibly clicks.
“I’m not risking you.”
“Why does what I want no longer matter to you?” you question. “When did that change?”
“In case you didn’t notice: the world is on fire.”
“And that is on me!” you shout. “Because I couldn’t stop it! I couldn’t stop Dean from dying, and he broke the first Seal. I couldn’t stop Sam from drinking demon blood and he broke the last! And then no matter how damn hard I tried to stop him, he said ‘yes’. I failed, Gabriel. The least I could do is kill the fucking Devil!”
Gabriel stares at you as if you were the one with multiple heads. He stares at you like–
“You didn’t fail, sweetheart.”
“Yes, I–”
Gabriel cups your face.
“I’m the one who failed, sweetheart. I should have been able to stop it. I could have taken Sam out of commission before he gave his consent and saved. . . everyone. But I was a coward. I hid.”
“You’re not a coward, Gabe,” you refute. “You never wanted to be involved in this, but you did because of me.”
The grace against your soul shifts in such a way that you shudder. “Love makes people do crazy things, even when they’re archangels.”
You sigh and run your hands over your face.
“I don’t wanna fight with you, Gabe,” you murmur tiredly. “I’m pissed at you for taking my choices away, but I love you and you’re all I have.” You reached for his hand and he locked his fingers through yours. “You know I’m always gonna love you, right? No matter how angry I get?”
Your angel pulls you in close and you can hear his wings stretch and fold around you, blocking out the white noise of the ocean with their melancholic hum.
“I know.” He presses his face into your hair. “I’ll do what I can.”
You nod against his collarbone, because it’s all that he can promise.