Michael loves him with every fiber of his being and Gabriel knows it to be true. That was a part of the problem, the wholesale, priceless, no strings attached love. Gabriel feels the same for his brother, but also knows that something as perfect as Michael doesn't just happen for him.
He's just waiting for the rug to be pulled out from beneath his for once grounded feet. Nothing good lasts, especially for the fuck up runt of the family. Gabriel has learned this also to be true far too many times to foolishly convince himself otherwise.
He watched as his brother slumbered beside him and ran his fingers through Michael's dark hair gently. The latter stirred slightly and tightened his hold on his baby brother where his muscled arm laid over Gabriel's stomach.
Moments like these are what Gabriel will always remember of Michael. Not the soldier, not Heavens Greatest Warrior, not Fathers Perfect Son. But, instead, as his Michael, the quiet, gentle, love of his life.
Michael always told him how much he loved him, how he was never going to leave him and that he would never let anything happen to him. Gabriel would miss it, the affirmation, but this is better. Things will be better this way.
He pulled out the Angel Blade that he had hidden under his pillow. He's been waiting for this moment to come for quite some time now, Michael so rarely sleeps these days. Gabriel can't face Michael if the latter were awake for this.
Gabriel sits up and holds the Blade poised, ready to deliver the killing blow. His hand doesn't even quiver because he has long since settled his demons about this.
He drove the blade home with a slight gasp as Michael's eyes flew open and grappled at the blade now buried hilt deep in his chest. The hurt and confused look in his eyes almost made Gabriel break, but he didn't as he pulled the Blade out of his brother's chest.
The eldest's Grace exploded from the wound and just a second later, his eyes and mouth as well. Just a few moments after that, with the blinding light, his wings shoot out and scorch the bed and floor.
When everything goes quiet again, Gabriel sets the Blade down and lays his head on his brother's chest, facing the still leaking wound. He rubbed his cheek lightly against the spot, getting blood on him.
"Love you, Mikey, but I couldn't have you discard me, not like the others, I wouldn't have survived it." Gabriel shifts up and places a light kiss on his brother's temple, whose eyes now stare blankly at the ceiling.
He picks himself up, taking the Blade with him as he dresses and stuffs all of Michael's clothes into a duffle bag. He would need Michael's scent with him if he was to survive without the real thing.
Once he was ready, he walked back over to the bed side and ran a hand through the dark hair again. His expression was soft and loving.
"Fairwell, brother, I'll love you always."
With that, he turned and walked out the door, never looking back.