Night had fallen over Stull Cemetery. The world was quiet, peaceful, and unaware that the Apocalypse had been averted that day. A lonely figure followed the tire tracks that Dean Winchester's Impala had left in the muddy ground leading into the cemetery. His breath rose from his mouth in little clouds and the dry grass rustled against his shoes. A cloud shifted and the full moon beamed down, casting a pale light over Gabriel's face.
The tire tracks ended and the archangel came to a halt. He could feel it, sense it. He knew this was the place. He took a few steps forward and slowly dropped to his knees. He placed a hand on the grass in front of him. He could feel a strange sort of energy below, pulsing alternately hot and cold, but no matter the temperature, it always sent out waves of darkness, sorrow, and pain. Gabriel took a shaky breath.
"Not like this," he whispered.
He was the one who told the Winchesters how to throw Lucifer back into the cage. And it was bad enough that both Lucifer and Michael, his brothers, were now locked up in that horrible place, even though he knew it had to happen. But this was the best way the Winchesters could think of to put them there...? "Oh Sam... I'm so sorry..."
Gabriel's cheeks stung as hot tears fell down them, a sharp contrast to the cold air. If only he could save Sam... but he didn't even know how he was alive himself, so what chance could he possibly have of getting Sam out of Lucifer's cage? Drying his eyes on his sleeves, Gabriel stood up, still staring at the patch of ground where he knew his brothers and Sam Winchester were trapped.
"I'm sorry," he murmured one last time.
Then with a soft flapping of wings, the cemetery was empty.