Gabriel was okay with the fact that facing Lucifer may result in his death. Lucifer was clever, he wouldn't fall for Gabriel's tricks, not like he did before his fall, when they were happy–in that sweet but short period of time before the Mark, before Amara, before humanity. He couldn't murder his big brother, but his big brother could murder him.
And he died. He died and there was nothing. Nothing but the dark and eternal rest. It was heaven for some, as they couldn't feel or see, they were aware of nothing. He was like that for a long time. Blissfully unaware of the apocalypses that raged down below. Lucifer, Eve, Castiel, Raphael, the Leviathans. They all had their part to play in almost ending Earth.
He woke to the screams of his brothers and sisters falling. Sophia. Azrael. Ezekiel. They all called out for their Father to stop, crying and begging forgiveness for whatever they did to deserve this. Pleading for Father to save the lives of other angels.
Dad didn't listen. He never does. He let Raphael die. He let Michael be trapped in the Cage with Lucifer.
He let Gabriel wake up in the Empty, all alone. There was no one. He kept quiet, for the sake of the Entity who just wanted to sleep. He wanted the same, but he couldn't. Something was keeping him was going back into nothingness, and he couldn't tell. There was an urge, something he was… forgetting.
A Knight had come into existence, and he screamed. Dean Winchester was the angels' salvation but ended up a demon. He would have laughed at the irony, but the name Winchester pulled at his heartstrings. The Righteous Man wasn't what he was forgetting, but he was a part of it.
The Entity found him, tried to squash him back into the darkness, and he let it, knowing it wouldn't work. The Entity didn't know that and grew angrier when he stayed. He explained that he wanted to go back to sleep, but for some reason, he couldn't. The Entity called him a dummy, saying that he stayed awake because he didn't want to go back.
He liked the Entity until that point. It didn't bother him and he didn't bother it. He figured they had an understanding, but no, the bastard had to break him down and down and down; no one searched for him during the Apocalypse and no one searched for him now. He was unwanted, forgotten.
Kali mourned him for a while, regret and guilt flooding her, but she got over it quickly. She forgot about him.
Lucifer mourned. He mourned and mourned until more pressing matters came to his attention. His baby brother was the last thing on his mind as he and Michael fell into the pit.
Dad didn't care.
Amara was locked away. She probably hated him anyway, if she even remembered him. He was practically a baby when he helped seal her away.
Castiel mourned him. Missed him. He'd be happy if he returned, but would inevitably send him away because Castiel would always choose the Winchester over anything–that wasn't right.
He hissed at the Entity to tell him what was missing, however, the Entity denied keeping anything from him, and yelled at him to go back to sleep. He yelled back, but the Entity pushed him back, down deep into the darkness.
He fell asleep.
.
.
The Entity groaned in disappointment when he woke again, as many have done in the past at his presence. It was different this time, though. The Entity was the one who woke him. When asked what was wrong the Entity didn't speak, just stared into the dark. He pressed, and he understood when it revealed the death of Death in a soft, sad voice.
Death was dead. What an odd thought.
The Entity cursed Dean Winchester for the act, and took his anger out of Gabriel. At least he was about to, but the Empty shook.
The Empty shook. Auntie Amara was free. The Mark that started it all, destroyed.
The Entity skulked away, hopeless, and he watched as Dean Winchester formed a bond with Amara. He watched as Lucifer was once again free from the Cage, leaving Michael alone in despair. Raphael was still dead, as was he. After everything, Lucifer had won. The last Archangel standing.
He watched as Father met with Lucifer and reconciled with Amara, leaving the Earth once again. He watched as Lucifer grew feral, rampaging and breaking in a weak attempt for Father to come home.
Dad was never one for listening.
Why wouldn't he just die? Why wouldn't he go back to sleep, what was he forgetting?
What was so precious to him that it would stop him from truly dying? He cried for the Entity to let him remember, to be sent home. The Entity made him jump as it appeared suddenly, scolding him and demanding that he shut up.
Gabriel was a coward, he knew that. He ran when his dear brothers started fighting and tried to push Dean into saying yes. But that was the old Gabriel. He changed his mind and died as a result–something was still missing.
He asked the Entity why he died.
For humanity, it said.
He asked again.
For Dean, it said.
He asked again.
It gave in. For Sam, it said.
The memories invaded him like a flood, filling in all the spots where he had forgotten the younger Winchester. He remembered trying to push both him and Dean into saying yes, so he wouldn't have to live in a world where his brothers were worse than the Pagans and humans he played with. He remembered that it was Sam Winchester that ended it when he pulled Michael and Lucifer in the Cage, sacrificing himself for the sake of the world, condemning himself to an eternity of torture. He remembered that Dean only killed Death to save his little brother.
He remembered that he loved Sam Winchester. For his courage. His strength. For the fact that he was so pure despite the demon blood and despite the fact that all of Heaven and Hell worked against him. He was Lucifer's vessel, destined to be worn to the prom by his big brother. But he won. Sam beat Lucifer even though it cost him his soul, which was now broken and beaten, torn apart and strung up and scarred, on the brink on insanity because of his time with Lucifer.
Sam Winchester, he thought as he fell back to Earth, much to the pleasure of the Entity, you poor, magnificent bastard.
.
.
.
He woke up in a cell.