“Hey dad,” Gabriel sighed. He didn’t know where he was but it was nice. A small motel room, homely and comforting. He remembered Apocalypse Michael killing him. Then that was it. But he sat on an old leather couch, head in his lap, whispering.
“I tried. I really did try to stay alive some more. But I guess,” he let out a bitter chuckle. “I guess it wasn’t enough.” He threw his head back, closing his eyes and swallowing hard.
“I was wondering, you know, if you could bring me back? I know it’s hard but even for a bit? Maybe a week or two, Dad.”
“I stood up to Lucy, you know? Back at Elysian. And I protected the Winchesters again, stayed behind instead of going through the rip.” He felt hot tears already flowing, soft and uneven.
“It’s okay if you can’t though Dad,” he softly laughed out, smiling a bit. “But I know you’re still alive and good. So can you do me a favor at least?” He drew a shaky breath.
“Tell the Winchesters I’ll miss them, okay? Tell Cassie I’ll miss him too. And, and tell Sam,” he drew another shaky breath, “tell Sammy I’ll miss him a lot. Tell him I’ll still love him even dead, okay Dad?” He started crying, laughing his way through sobs.
“And one more thing. Tell them to keep fighting. To keep fighting for me, okay Dad? You heard all that?” His head hung, dripping tears onto his pants. “Make sure you tell them Dad. I want them to know it, okay Dad?” He yelled in a fast desperation. “I just want them to know, that’s all. Because you won’t bring me back dammit!” He slammed a fist on the coffee table in front of him.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered out. “Just please,” he begged. “Please tell them. Do this for me. Just this once, okay Dad?” He closed his eyes again.
“Thanks Dad. Bye.”