Chapter 66

He sits up with a start to see just what he was remembering. The room is engulfed in flames, so hot he can almost feel his skin melting off, though that's probably just his sweat. The smoke fills his lungs, and he tries to cough it out, but it doesn't do much good.

"Sam! Help me! !"

He looks up to see Jess screaming his name from the ceiling. His attention is drawn to the large gash in her stomach, just like the first time. The blood drips down, splattering against his skin. Unable to speak anymore, Jess just cries out in pain.

"Jess!" Sam yells. "No, no, no, no, no! Jess!"

She doesn't respond — she can't respond. She just keeps screaming. It wasn't like this last time. She should be dead. He shouldn't have to watch her suffer. But she's not, and he can't leave her. Not like this.

"Jess! No!" He coughs, trying to clear his throat from all the smoke as if he doesn't know it won't do any good. He covers his mouth with his shirt in an attempt to filter out the smoke. "Jess!"

"Sam! Get out of there!" a voice hisses from outside the room.

"No! I'm not leaving her!" Sam yells. "Jess! Jess, I got you!" But he doesn't have her, and some logical part of him knows he doesn't, but he doesn't care. He can't leave her. He has to save her.

"Dammit, Sam! You're gonna get yourself killed!"

"I don't care!" Sam climbs up on the bed, trying to reach her, to pull her down, but with one hand holding his shirt to his mouth, he can't do much, and as soon as his hand touches her, he has to pull it back. She's too hot — everything is too hot.

There's some annoyed noise behind him, and then he feels arms wrapped around his waist. He flails his arms and kicks his legs around, but it's no use. He can't free himself. He screams her name, trying to get back to her, but it doesn't work.

Finally, he feels his feet touch the ground, and the arms around his waist disappear. He tries to run back inside, but the door slams shut. As many times as he pounds against it, it doesn't budge.

"Sam!"

"Let me back in!" Sam yells. "I have to see her! I'm not leaving her!"

"You don't have a choice! She's gone. Dead. I'm sorry, Sam, but you can't change that."

"But —"

Suddenly, a hand is slapped over his mouth. "Sam. It's over. Give it up."

At that, he feels himself breaking. It really is over, isn't it? She's not even screaming anymore. She's dead. She's actually dead. Again. And something tells him she's not coming back; not this time.

The hand falls from his face, but Sam doesn't acknowledge it. He just stares at his bedroom door, seeing the light of the flames flickering behind the cracks.

Finally, he turns around, and he's surprised to see it's Lucifer standing there. Had his mind been working, he would have known from the voice, but after what happened with Jess, he's definitely not thinking like that.

"What are you doing here?" Sam asks, his voice hoarse, though whether it's from yelling or the smoke, it's anyone guess.

"I..." Lucifer pauses as if wondering the same thing. Finally, he says, "Saving your ass, I guess."

"What if I didn't want to be saved?" Sam asks quietly.

"Ah, that wasn't really the question, was it?"

Sam doesn't say anything, because what is there to say to that anyway?

Lucifer looks around helplessly, then sighs. "C'mon. I might know something to cheer you up." When Sam doesn't come, Lucifer takes his wrist and drags him to the war room, pushing him inside. He gestures to Gabriel, mouthing the word, "," before walking away.

Sam glances back at him, then looks to Gabriel. He's sitting cross legged on the floor, still next to Kali's head. His own head rests in his hands, and he looks a mix between sad and bored. It's hard to tell from behind.

Almost as if he can sense Sam standing there, Gabriel glances behind himself. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?" he asks in a monotone voice.

"Yeah, that's — that's not going to work out very well," Sam replies. "I'm, uh, sorry about Kali."

Gabriel just nods silently.

"Can I sit with you?" Sam asks, because there isn't really anything else to do. His room is trashed, and god knows where everyone else is sleeping these days. There's nowhere else to be.

Gabriel sighs, so quietly Sam can barely hear it. He waves a hand over the ground next to him, and suddenly, it's clear of the mostly dry blood. That's a luxury he didn't give himself, which is hard not to notice. Sam walks over slowly, trying to avoid stepping on any organs or intestines or whatever it is that coats the floor, and takes a seat.

"Shouldn't you be with Jess?" Gabriel asks, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice, despite his efforts, which weren't very much because he has more to care about than how cold his voice sounds. He did just lose his on-again, off-again girlfriend of many, many years.

"No, actually, she's — she's dead," Sam says quietly.

That gets Gabriel's full attention immediately. "What?"

"Yeah, another ceiling fire." Sam lets out a short, humorless laugh. "Because why wouldn't I have to watch my girlfriend burn to death again?"

Gabriel looks away, not wanting to see the pain in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he mumbles.

"You didn't do it, you don't have to be sorry," he replies. "And I can tell you didn't, so now I want to know who did."

Gabriel scoffs, looking back at him incredulously. "You're joking. You want to know who killed her? Who killed ? Look around you, Sam. Who stuck us here? Who keeps bringing people in? Who keeps screwing with everything we want? Who's done since we got here? Chuck killed them. I thought a bright kid like you would've realized that right away."

That makes sense, Sam will admit that. He's in complete control here. He's definitely responsible for it, at least, even if he didn't pull the trigger. But that still leaves one big question.

"Why?" Sam asks. "Why would he do that?"

Gabriel laughs, but there's no humor in it. "How blind are you? He's trying to control us. He thinks that by taking them out, he's making them disappear completely, like they won't haunt us 'til our dying day. I can't speak for both of us, but I know I'm not letting him reach his endgame. What's done is done, even with them gone."

"What endgame?" Sam asks. He's sure he sounds like an idiot, not knowing these answers that Gabriel has obviously figured out, but he still wants to know. He deserves to know.

"He wants us back together," Gabriel explains.

"Right after he just our girlfriends?" Sam adds, incredulous.

"No, not right after. I don't think he's trying to rush it like that. My guess is he just wants us back together eventually. I don't think he'd care if it takes years."

"And you don't think that's going to happen?" Sam says cautiously. He definitely doesn't want to take advantage of a heartbroken angel; especially not when he feels the same way. But in a few years? Grief doesn't last that long.

"I know it's not," Gabriel replies. "Because I'm not going to let it. I'm sorry if that's what you were expecting, but it's not happening. I don't want to be your second choice."

"You're not my second choice," Sam protests.

"No, third, right? After Dean? Or fourth, with Castiel?"

"Gabe —"

"You can't lie to me, Sam," Gabriel tells him. "I saw you pick Jess. Time and time again, you picked Jess. And I wasn't mad. I mean, she was your ex, I was your ex. Equal playing field, and she won. No big deal. But you saw me sitting in a room decorated with , and you chose her. So yes, Sam. I am your second choice. You've made that pretty clear."

Sam opens his mouth to say something, to say just about anything, but he can't think of a single thing.

"Can you just... leave?" Gabriel asks finally. "Please?"

Sam sighs and stands up. Just as he's leaving the room, he glances back to say softly, "I'm sorry."