Sam Winchester is sitting on the hood of a car, holding an archangel blade.

No, his archangel blade.

The one he used to kill Lucifer.

He feels no remorse, even when he had cleaned the remaining bright-red-angel-blood off.

Sam thinks it should have been black. Black as the Devil's heart.

He turns it slowly in his hands, examining the writing circling the shining metal. The Enochian words are bunched together in a twisting and turning line, none of them forming complete sentences.

Sam Winchester can read them all, but not because he now has grace.

SamaelSamuelPoisonOfGodNameOfGodArchangelSoulGraceBornDemonRaised–

And on and on they go, speaking of an intricate description of him, of his life, of what he thinks, feels, knows. It should probably creep him out, but for some reason, it doesn't.

He hears footsteps approach him from the side, crunching quietly in the mix of dirt and gravel.

Sam sighs softly, and the blade disappears with a thought.

He tilts his head a little bit to his right, and his eyes widen slightly in surprise as he sees who it is.

Gabriel. Loki, Trickster, Liesmith, Archangel, Messenger Of God.

Something deep inside Sam whispers, Brother.

Sam shifts to the left, waving his hand in a gesture to sit down.

Gabriel nods, doing exactly that, and knits his fingers together in his lap.

They both stare into the empty space in front of them, neither one looking at each other.

Gabriel swallows, looking down. "I heard you killed my brother."

Sam stills as he hears those words. Not Lucifer, not the Devil, but my brother.

For the first time after Lucifer's death, Sam feels guilt.

But he won't deny that he did it. That's not him.

Sam nods reluctantly, forcing the words out. "I did."

His wings ruffle uncomfortably. He doesn't know what else to say.

There's silence for a bit before Gabriel releases a strangled breath. "I don't know, Sam…I know he was, well," Gabriel snorts. "A great big bag of dicks, yeah, but he was also my brother."

Sam flinches, shoulders curling inwards. "I'm sorry."

Gabriel looks over at Sam in surprise, straightening up.

"I'm not mad at you, Sam. I just…"

Gabriel turns away once again.

"It's strange. Having everyone nearly gone."

Sam doesn't need to ask who everyone is.

"All the archangels are dead, Sam. Raphael, Lucifer, Michael."

Gabriel's eyes flick to the ground, beginning to glow a faint amber-whiskey-gold, like polished bronze, while Sam's is a bright shining gold, and Gabriel murmurs, "Except me."

Sam swallows. "Michael isn't dead."

Insane, crazy, lost a few of his marbles, sure, but he isn't dead.

Gabriel frowns, tilting his head to look up at Sam. "What?" He croaks out.

Sam shakes his head, forcing himself not to look at Gabriel.

"He's not dead. He's…" A mess of limbs and heads bleeding bright-blue grace as it huddles in a ball, mumbling words that come from a shattered mind. They make no sense. "He's in the cage."

"What?" Gabriel's voice is sharp, demanding answers. But Sam looks at Gabriel, and all he sees is pain.

Pain, because Gabriel knows what the cage can do to someone.

Sam stares at nothing again, licking his lips and taking a shuddering breath.

"Michael is in the cage. Our Michael, at least."

"How?!" Gabriel snarls, and it sounds broken.

Broken like Michael, Sam thinks, and he shakes his head to clear it.

"You…you told us to get the rings. We did. Then we trapped Lucifer. Michael came along for the ride."

Gabriel leans back, shocked. Then he asks the question Sam has been dreading.

"How'd you get them in the cage?"

Sam stops breathing as his eyes turn glassy, unfocused.

Pay attention, pay attention, pay attention, pay attention.

Pay attention, says the Devil, you don't want your tongue ripped out, again, do you?

Pay attention, says Michael, sneering. Abomination. Learn some respect around me.

There is a burning sensation wrapped around Sam's wrist and he whimpers, oh God, what a pitiful sound, and wait, no, it's not burning, it's just really, really warm, too warm for the Devil, too cold for Michael, what is it, why isn't he being tortured, what's going on–

"Sam!" Someone yells, and Sam thinks that an archangel's voice in the cage should shred apart his eardrums like paper like they've always been a million times and they don't and now he just feels lost–

"Sam, listen to me!" Sam thinks he knows that voice, now. Who is it? It's been so long.

"Sam, fuck, I don't want to have to explain this to your brother, he might actually kill me. So please. Open your eyes."

Sam does, and the world explodes with light.