Chapter Text
what we do for ourselves dies with us. what we do for others and the world remains and is immortal.
There are many things that could be said regarding the archangel Gabriel. If you were to ask Dean he’d steadfastly argue that Gabriel was a coward, that he could have done more- should have done more. If you were to ask Castiel he’d probably give you his disappointed-in-his-own-brethren face. But if you were to ask Samuel, call me Sam, Winchester he’d give you his furrowed brow and puppy dog eyes (that worked on everyone, thank you very much) and gently explain that there was always more below the surface.
He’d explain how sometimes we can keep the bad memories, the PTSD, the trauma we've endured, at bay but that it never completely disappears, that it’s always there, bubbling like mad just below the surface.
And that’s where our story begins.
Billie, aka Death, had given this notion plenty of thought. Gabriel wasn’t in any of the remaining books, his reappearance wasn’t foretold so why was he even on her mind? Why was he even a consideration? The only conclusion she could come to was that when she took on Death’s role, all his memories and infinite knowledge had transferred to her and Death had been very fond of Gabriel. And thus she took a page out of Dean Winchester's book (the metaphorical one not the physical one) and had decided that just because something didn’t appear to be an option it didn’t mean it wasn’t. If Dean had found an alternative to his alleged Ma'lak Box eternity then she could do this for Sam.
Billie hadn’t thought she cared about the Winchesters all that much but, again, Death’s own thoughts came to mind. How much they influenced her remained to be seen. Death had once told Dean that humans could barely be viewed as anything more valuable than bacterium when in reality he’d regarded them as heroes. Because true heroes, like Hercules, weren’t measured by the size of their strength but by the strength of their hearts. And that the Winchesters had in spades. Were Billy ever to fully examine her own feelings concerning the brothers, she would have found that she also regarded them in high esteem.
She walked amongst the books, gently touching the pristine spines as she considered her plans. She never realized how much the Winchesters had impacted her until she chose option D for dumbass and had strode into the Empty- completely bypassing The Shadow without so much as a sideways glance. She was done thinking-it was time for action.
She peered at the form lying prostate at her feet and gently prodded him with her scythe.
“What are you doing?” the Shadow asked, appearing to her right. It wasn’t asked in the usual sarcastic tone It used on everyone. Held none of the usual rancor or disdain that it generally regarded everyone with. Instead It was curious. For that reason alone, Billy actually turned to It and responded.
“I’ve decided to wake Gabriel.” She said, simply. She didn’t bother to give any explanations, she didn’t need to. She was Death. She was free to do whatever the fuck she wanted. The Shadow didn’t respond merely stared at her for several moments- the fluidity in its form gently cascading to and fro. Billy, even without her vessel, didn’t look like that and for a moment it unsettled her that The Shadow was truly something incomprehensible. Not omniscient or at least not way the Almighty was supposed to be…although were someone to ask Billy she wouldn’t hesitate to say that God was no longer what He once was. She hadn’t known Him but Death had and his memories didn’t reconcile with the Chuck she knew now.
Perhaps names really did hold power, perhaps God’s own had begun to diminish the moment He began to go by Chuck. In any case, after another moment The Shadow gives her Its semblance of a smile.
“That’s a good idea", It says.
Billy snorts.
“I didn’t ask.”
The Shadow ignores her retort.
“I remember Gabriel", It says instead.
That makes her curious.
“What do you mean, you remember Gabriel?”
The Shadow grins at her again, this time with slightly more bite to it.
“He used to come visit me.”
“That’s impossible. He would have had to die and I would know if he had.”
It’s eerie, Billy decides, when something without shoulders shrugs at you.
“He found a way. Even as a herald, he always was our little trickster.”
The Shadows grin has turned fond. It’s discombobulating.
“Do you have feelings?” Billy asks suddenly.
It’s surprising when The Shadow actually deigns to answer.
“I am more than The Empty. I am Everything and Nothing all at once. I am Everywhere and Nowhere. I am the Beginning before there was and will be the End long after it Ends. You may be the one to reap God, but I will be the one who takes you, little Death. For I am who I am and who I am is-“.
It is cut off there by a groan. Both of the entities look down at the source. Said source is peering up at The Shadow with thinly veiled scorn in his eyes.
He glances towards BiIlie. “Don’t get It talking” He pleas, albeit there’s a smile on his face. “It feigns to prefer silence but I know better.”
Billy looks accusingly towards It.
“I hadn’t raised him yet.”
Again, It shrugs. It looks as out of place as it did the first time.
“I may have taken it upon myself.” It responds but It’s distracted, it’s eyes down towards Gabriel who is apparently checking to see if he’s still as limber as he remembers. At least that’s what it looks like to Billie.
“Child, what are you doing?” she finally has to ask.
“Flexing my creative muscles" he responds, grinning brightly up at her.
“Gabriel! No!”
She knows immediately what he’s alluding to as images of Gabriel depositing random never-before-seen animals on Earth’s surface at any given time flit through her mind.
He laughs.
“Too late.”
She sighs, a left over trait of her humanity that seems to only pop back up around the Winchester’s and their respective angels.
That reminds her.
“I came here for a specific reason.” She tells him, somberly.
He’s no longer smiling.
“Let me guess, the world needs me again?”
Billy thinks about lying but ultimately decides against it.
“No,” she says, gently. She crouches down before sitting down. The Shadow remains standing.
“The world is barely hanging on. Your Father is intent on wiping everything out. He wants the Winchesters to kill each other. He’s already wiped out all the other Earths and spin-offs. The Earth you’re from is the only one left.
I have all the books on how everything is supposed to end. You’re not in any of them. You’re an unprecedented variable. It remains to be seen how your presence will affect everything. Should you decide to hide, you’re welcome to, but should you decide to fight, well, we’d definitely appreciate it.
There are a few more things you need to know"- she says, holding up a hand when he opens his mouth.
She waits until he’s closed it and is instead looking at her expectantly.
“Your brother, Michael, is out. He still has Adam but they are stable. He has offered his assistance to the Winchesters. Castiel is still with them. We recently returned Jack to them. Rowena is now the Queen of Hell, all the hunters that made it back from Apocalypse World are dead thanks to that world’s Michael. He inhabited Dean for a while and caused great destruction. Dean killed Lucifer.”
She stops. She knows it’s a lot to digest.
“So why was I woken?” He asks lifting his head again.
“I am not sure. You’ve been on my mind a lot. Death thought highly of you. And I don’t know- I had once told Dean that the only he could stop otherworld Michael from imploding ours was to get in a Ma'lak Box for eternity. That was how his book ended and I was under the impression that endings were not interchangeable. I was wrong. They found another way. So with you- you’re not written but why should we abide by that? Why not write our own books? Who says we must follow them? Who?”
Billie is leaning on her scythe now, like she needs it to hold up the sudden weight she feels on her being. She almost feels tired as impossible as she knows that is.
“There is one other thing", she says hesitantly.
He shakes his head at her.
“Just tell me.”
“I’ve read all the books- even the ones that didn’t come to pass. In one of the alternate versions you were supposed to end up with Sam. I’ll deny this to my dying day but it seems wrong that both Winchesters shouldn’t end up with their respective angels.”
“Sam, huh?” he huffs out a laugh. “Should be interesting.”
“Does that mean that you’ll do it?”
A beat of silence passes.
“How are you sending me back?”
“Fully juiced up.”
“My wings will be good again?”
“In perfect condition?”
“Yes.”
Another beat.
“It’s been a long time since I saw Michael.”
Billie focuses on the oldest archangel's location.
“He’s in Italy.”
“Thank you.” He tells them before standing up in one fluid motion.
“I'll call for you when I join the Winchesters.” He tells Billie.
She nods and in a flap of wings he’s gone.
There are people, beings, that should never had died. They died solely for Chuck’s entertainment or to advance His story. Billie knows it’s beyond her job duties to bring anyone back- she’s Death for Chuck’s sake. And yet none of that matters. All that matters, suddenly, is gifting the Winchesters what they deserve for all the bullshit they’ve had to put up with from Chuck. But who to choose? How does she choose? Before she fully knows what she’s intending to do she’s standing before Dean, who to his credit, doesn’t even flinch at her sudden experience.
“What now?” he asks her, warily. Billie only stares at him for a moment, looking beyond him, looking into him.
“Your soul is still resplendent, Righteous Man.”
“That’s nice.” He says a tad sarcastic.
“Touchy touchy". She says, smiling.
It weirds him out, her smiling. His eyes narrow.
“Is that you, Chuck?” He’s now familiar with Chuck’s tendency to change forms at his convenience.
She shakes her head.
“No. It’s me.”
He still looks concerned. She tries her hardest not to sigh but it escapes anyway.
“Dean. If you could have everyone you’ve ever lost back would you want them?”
“What kind of question is that?” he says roughly, in that insouciant way of his. He’s been around too many entities to now regard any of them with the respect they’d receive from any other humans. Billie thinks she prefers it this way.
Even so, she’s suddenly unsure.
“I have no desire to see your soul or Sam’s warped. I saw what Chuck showed Sam. It doesn’t have to be that way. If you had more support, more people around it would help. So I'm here to offer it. Would you want them back? And if so, who?”
“I'm pretty sure my soul is already warped.”
“It is not.”
“Why are you offering this?”
His question finally makes her mission clear. She may not have started out knowing what it was she was trying to do but now she knows.
“I think you need an army. You need support. You need multiple heads, ideas to follow and come together. I think you will succeed if you have the peace that comes from knowing everyone you love is alive and well.”
“And you want me to what? Bring them all back only to see them die again?”
Billie is stunned into silence before she laughs.
“You have a way of making the oldest of beings feel incredibly foolish.” She admits to him.
She wants to sit with him at the map table but she can’t. To sit at the table with Dean Winchester as though they are equals…
Pride goeth before fall
Gabriel isn’t speaking directly into her head, instead they are memories again. Death used to watch him. Used to watch as he taught the most arrogant of people lessons so that they would remember their place. Not in comparison to him but in comparison to the rest of humanity. Still. The lesson is the same.
Billie sits.
“I don’t know.” She tells him, quietly.
“I can bring anyone and everyone back, Dean. More than that, I want to.”
She goes on to explain what Chuck had shown Sam. How, alone, they fall. Alone they fall into the darkness that they’ve stared into for far too long.
“It seems that I don’t want you to lose hope.” She tells him.
“I don’t want any of you to lose hope.”
Dean blinks as the rest of his family is pulled from wherever they’d been. Sam looks startled, Castiel is impassive and Jack is just staring at her imploringly. Billie had made sure her voice had rung throughout the bunker and they are aware of why she’s there.
“So? Who am I bringing back?”
“You still haven’t answered my question. Are they coming back just to be killed again?”
“I don’t know, Dean. I don’t even know if they would want to be brought back that many times. It wears down the soul to be yanked back and forth so many times.”
He snorts. “Do you even know how many times I’ve died?”
“You are the Righteous Man. Your soul is significantly stronger than anyone else’s. Sam’s is too but even his lacks your strength. That’s why in Chuck’s future he’s the one who breaks first.”
Dean’s eyes spark with anger and Billie holds back her grin. Dean will never stand for anyone to badmouth Sam. Never. Theirs is a bond that was originally forged by Chuck but grew to proportions that not even He'd anticipated.
“Sam is not weak.” He says firmly.
She ducks her head to hide her smile.
“My apologies. I did not say that offend you.”
“Anyway-“ he continues, cutting her off in his usual disrespectful manner, “maybe that’s where we should start then.” His plan serves well, reminding her of his innate intelligence. He doesn’t flaunt it, not in that subtle way that Sam still resonates. No, Dean has never believed himself worthy. That’s probably why he is. It’s a humility that can’t be achieved because it’s something you have to be born with.
He is truly remarkable. Quite possibly Chuck’s greatest creation.
She sees Castiel staring at him and she knows that he sees the same thing she does.
“What do you mean, Dean?” she asks, her voice far more soft than anything she’s ever used with him. But she’s doing it with a purpose. She’s doing it in an effort to make him open up. She wants to see the brilliance in his tactical knowledge. She wants to know how he thinks. How his mind works.
“What if we ask them? There are some who are happy there, in their heavens. Some who don’t want to come back. Can we ask them? Can we tell them what’s happening? Can we let them choose?”
The plan, though simple, is brilliant. A slow smile stretches across her face as she regards him.
“I can’t give you a new life. Because this one needs you. But I do want you to know Dean that anything Sam could have accomplished you could have as well. You’ve proven that time and time again. You are special. A true hero. That’s something you’re born with, not something that can be learned. I hope you know that.”
She stands then unwilling to embarrass him further- the blush is already prominent on his face- and tells them all to write up lists of people they want given the opportunity to be brought back.
“Are we going to get to ask them?” Sam speaks up for the first time.
“Do you want to be?”
They’d had a deal, a long time ago, before Billie knew all that she knew now. She’d promised that the next time either of them died it would be their last. Now she knows just how valuable and necessary they are to mankind, to humanity and would never do such a thing but she still has to ask.
“Well, most of our people won’t know who you are.” Sam responds.
“Or they’ll shoot first and ask questions later.” Says Dean, a small satisfied smile on his face as though he were the one who personally taught them to be cynical about anyone arriving and promising good works.
Sam has a point though, they both do, so Billie agrees not to leave them dead and they make plans for her to return later that evening.
None of them thank her as she leaves and although at first it almost rankles she reminds herself that she’s not doing it for gratitude she’s doing it because it’s the right thing to do.
With one last glance at the Winchester family she takes flight back to her base to break officiate a meeting with her Reapers. They are not going to be happy and yet, she cannot find it in her to care.