Transmission from the Trickster

Chapter 54

Sam's done respecting it.

Gabriel has not shown his face in over a week. He has not responded to prayers. He has not done something stupid that ended up in the news. He's just gone.

And Sam is worried sick.

He takes off at night, when everyone is in bed except Castiel, who's wherever-the-hell-he-goes-at-night. Sam leaves a note, because he knows Dean is going to freak out if he wakes up and Sam isn't there, and because it would be awkward if Gabriel chose this night to return while Sam was out looking for him. Still, he hopes to make it back before anyone notices he's gone, preferably with an archangel in tow.

I'll be back in a few.

S. W.

He takes the Impala, which is doubtlessly going to piss Dean off, but he doesn't trust himself to touch any of the other cars that have been left in the bunker for almost 60 years.

He pulls up by the abandoned garage that Lucifer had been residing in. From the outside, it looks like nothing has changed. It's still dark and gross and missing a door, just how Sam remembers it.

He parks the car and hops out, acutely aware that it's just sitting in the middle of an alleyway and that Dean would kill him for this if he knew. That stops bothering him when he steps in the doorway and sees Gabriel right where they left him.

He's sitting on the ground next to Lucifer's charred corpse, so close to the shadow of his wings and yet far enough away that he's not on top of them. His head is in his hands, though if he's crying, he's doing a good job at hiding it.

Has he really been here this whole time? Sam fully expected to have to look for clues once he got here. He didn't think the clue would be Gabriel himself, and he almost wishes it wasn't. He had hoped Gabriel would be feeling better, at least enough to take a walk or pull a trick. He's definitely glad the guy hasn't killed anyone, but that would almost be preferable to seeing the angel so broken.

"Hey," Sam says quietly.

Gabriel doesn't respond.

Sam approaches him slowly, watching for any sign that the angel wants him to back off. He doesn't see any of those signs, but he also doesn't get the vibe that Gabriel wants him to stick around, either.

"Can I sit?" Sam asks.

"Mm."

That almost sounds like a 'yes,' which is oddly comforting. He was sort of expecting Gabriel to tell him to get lost.

Sam sits down by his side, carefully opting for the side that doesn't have angel wings scorched into the floor, just in case sitting on a dead angel's wings is considered disrespectful — which, now that he's said it like that, it probably is. He leaves Gabriel a bit of space, just in case, but he also wants to be close enough that Gabriel doesn't think he's nervous to sit with him. Sam knows better than to think the angel is going to pull any kind of trick on him right now. He's hope that Gabriel knows he knows it, too.

"How are you holding up?" Sam asks, which is, admittedly, a stupid question, not that he knows any other type.

Gabriel sighs and picks his head up, keeping his gaze on Lucifer's body. "Just peachy."

That doesn't have the usual sass Sam has come to expect. Even his sarcasm falls flat right now.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Sam asks.

"Not unless you're secretly a necromancer," Gabriel says, "in which case, I think we would have bigger problems."

The words may sound almost like Gabriel's sense of humor, but his tone says otherwise. He's not invested in his jokes or sarcastic remarks at all. It's not like him, and it's disconcerting to hear.

"I'm sorry it had to go down like that," Sam says.

"No, you're not," Gabriel says. "You don't have to lie to me. It's not going to make me feel any better."

Sam sighs. Logically, he knew that, but he had to try. "I'm worried about you, Gabriel."

"Don't be," he says. "Everyone I've ever loved has either left, died, or both. I'm getting used to it."

Sam isn't quite sure how to respond to that. He almost gets it. Most of the friends he's ever had have died because they met him. Charlie, Kevin, Bobby; he's lost them all. But Dean and Castiel have made it through everything with him, even if they've died a few times in the process, so he knows he can't relate the way Gabriel needs someone to relate to.

"If it's any consolation," Sam says finally, "I won't leave you, and we both know death doesn't seem to stick."

Gabriel lets out what could almost be considered a laugh, which is a nice surprise. He's still miserable, but at least Sam almost made him smile, even just briefly.

"Do you want to give him a funeral?" Sam asks. "Sometimes that can make you feel better."

"For all the people I've killed and all the times I've faked my own death, you'd probably be surprised to find out that I don't know the first thing about funerals," Gabriel admits.

"And for all the friends and family I've lost, you probably won't be surprised to find out I've been to more than I can count," Sam says. "It might be a little ironic, given that he's the devil, but we could give him a hunter's funeral."

"What's the point?" Gabriel asks. "He's an angel. He doesn't have a soul to come back and haunt you or whatever."

"Hunter's funerals aren't just to stop vengeful spirits," Sam says. "They're also a sort of closure." Besides, Lucifer's body is already burned to a crisp. Even a human couldn't come back from what Jack did to him.

Gabriel looks at him for the first time since Sam sat down by his side. Sam almost wishes he hadn't — he could almost pretend he was doing okay just listening to his voice, but seeing his face changes that illusion. His eyes after puffy and red, tear stains covering his cheeks. He's never looked more miserable then he does now.

"Okay," Gabriel says finally, his voice barely a whisper. "Let's do it."