The motel room door slammed shut behind you hard enough to rattle the frame.

Inside, Sam was still pacing, trying to process everything that had happened—the loops, Dean dying over and over again, the realization that the Trickster had been behind it all. Dean was alive again, confused and irritated, scarfing down mystery tacos like none of it had happened.

But you couldn’t stay in there another second.

Your chest hurt too much.

The cool morning air hit you as you stepped outside the motel, tears already burning behind your eyes. Your hands shook violently as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

Dean had died.

Again.

And again.

And again.

You’d watched him get electrocuted, crushed, shot, stabbed—watched the light leave his eyes so many times you’d stopped being able to breathe every time Tuesday reset.

And Gabriel had done it.

The same Gabriel who’d stitched you back together years ago after a hunt gone wrong in Nebraska. The same Gabriel who sat beside you in dingy diners at three in the morning making stupid jokes while you patched up his nonexistent wounds just so he had an excuse to stay longer.

The same Gabriel who kissed you once behind a gas station and vanished before sunrise.

Your jaw clenched.

“Gabriel,” You whispered shakily, staring at the empty parking lot. “Get your feathery ass down here. Now.”

Silence.

Then a flutter of wings.

A familiar voice drawled behind you.

“Well, sugar, long time no—”

Your hand cracked across his face before he could finish.

The slap echoed through the parking lot.

Gabriel’s head turned with the impact, more from surprise than pain. Slowly, he looked back at you, blinking.

You were crying.

Not graceful tears. Not silent ones. Your whole body shook with them, fury and grief tangled together until you could barely stand upright.

“You,” You choked out, shoving at his chest. “You absolute bastard.”

Gabriel didn’t move.

Didn’t joke.

Didn’t smirk.

Which somehow only made you angrier.

“I watched him die!” You screamed. “Do you understand me? I watched Dean die hundreds of times!”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t!” Another shove. “You don’t get to say that like it means anything!”

The archangel let you hit him again, fists landing against his chest uselessly. His eyes stayed fixed on your face, guilt buried deep beneath the usual mischief.

“You could’ve stopped it whenever you wanted,” You whispered brokenly. “And you just… kept going.”

Gabriel swallowed hard.

“It was supposed to teach Sam.”

“Well congratulations,” You snapped. “Lesson learned.”

For a moment neither of you spoke.

The neon motel sign buzzed overhead.

Inside the room, Dean laughed loudly at something Sam said, blissfully unaware of the war happening outside.

Your breathing hitched at the sound.

Gabriel’s expression softened immediately.

“That’s why you did it,” You realized quietly. “You saw what’s coming for Sam and Dean.”

Gabriel looked away.

And that terrified you more than anything.

“Gabriel…”

“They’re heading for a cliff they can’t see yet,” he said softly. “I needed Sam to understand that he can’t save Dean from everything.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks faster.

“But you could’ve warned me,” You whispered. “You could’ve told me.”

His gaze finally met yours again, unbearably gentle now.

“And lose the only person who still looked at me like I wasn’t a monster?”

Your anger cracked instantly at the edges.

Gabriel stepped closer carefully, like approaching a wounded animal.

“I never wanted to hurt you.”

“You did.”

The words landed harder than the slap had.

For once in his existence, Gabriel had absolutely nothing clever to say.