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So, i was scrounging around trying to find [livejournal.com profile] morganoconner 's book/pendant 'shipping' fic i did on Twitlonger. No such luck, but i found this from August. I don't remember what the context was, but i think it was like...how S5 would have ended for me. A battle scene was involved, and Gabriel...

Actually, it was probably just me being all...GABRIEL ISN'T DEAD AND SAVES THE DAY that turned into a battle scene.

But...i actually rather like it. There's no pairings involved. Just..Team Free Will being badass.



They were losing.

Lucifer’s hordes were too much for the Winchesters ragtag group of hunters and angel. They were fighting tooth and nail, blood and sweat mingling with sulfur and ozone, clashing against gunfire and the acrid scent of smoke. Screams of the dying merged with the bellowed incantations of hunters.

Then everything stopped.

Silence reigned as the gazes of humans and demons alike fixed on a lone figure on the hilltop.

“..Gabriel?” Sam choked out his surprise, teetering on a sprained ankle.

Gabriel stood as they last saw him- in the flesh. His gaze was dark and fixed upon the melee before him, silent and unsmiling. In his hand was a slim trumpet, held loose at his fingertips.

“He is not dead,” Castiel said, blood trickling into sharp blue eyes.

“Thanks for that, Cas,” Dean managed, spitting out his own share of blood onto the ground.

Gabriel’s gaze didn’t budge, but his eyes were suddenly filled with regret and pain

Nobody moved. No demon so much as twitched, no human dared to breathe.

“Cas?” Dean gathered himself. “Gonna explain this?”

“The Lord Himself will descend from Heaven,” Castiel murmured, eyes bright and determined with fierce hope. “With the voice of an Archangel, and with the trumpet of God.”

“Meaning?”

Castiel did not answer, gaze rapt and attentive on Gabriel.

The former Trickster finally sought out Dean, Castiel, and Sam. He winked, but there was no mirth behind it, before raising his trumpet to his lips. The call sang out, causing the earth to tremble and listen, and the skies opened with light.

The demons were scattering, some diving to land final, desperate blows.

“Is it…?” Sam’s voice shook with pain and fatigue, restrained with hope. For a moment, he sounded so young to Dean, his baby brother asking about the monsters under the bed.

“No,” Castiel said, a hint of bitterness and disappointment in his tone. “It is not God. It is the angels.”

“Great,” Dean groaned. “We’re screwed.”

“You’ve been screwed for a long time, Dean-o,” Gabriel said from behind him. “Now, why don’t you take your scrappy little army and scoot. It’s time for the grown ups to have a chat.”

“You took your sweet ass time getting here.” Dean snapped, defensively. “Why show up now?”

“First off, you’re welcome. See if I bother not being dead next time,” Gabriel raised a brow. “If you and your friends value your senses…GO!”

Castiel placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “This is no longer your fight, Dean. Do what you have always done best. Take care of people.”

“Careful, Cas. Almost sounds like you’re saying goodbye.”

Castiel almost smiled.

Dean turned quickly, in time to see Gabriel crouched over Sam, healing Sam’s sprained ankle.

“Alright!” Dean yelled. “Everybody, on my signal. When I say so, drop and cover your eyes and ears.” He turned, helping Sam up. “You good?”

“I’m good.”

“I think we run now.”

“We definitely run now,” Sam agreed. They turned to run as the world exploded with light and sound.
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