He's dead?

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Your glass of (favorite drink) falls and shatters when Dean stops talking. "You're lying." you finally get out. "He's not-not dead."

He'd just recently proposed. You were getting married. He couldn't be dead.

Dean just stares at you. "You weren't a hunter; he was a archangel. You shouldn't have to have lost him." he thinks.

Sam notices your ring. "When?"

"He proposed last week." You take a deep breath. "I can't believe it." Tears are now streaming down your face. Dean moves over and hugs you.

"Who?" You ask.

"What?" Sam reacts.

"Who killed him?"

"(y/n)." Dean avoided telling you.

"I might not be a hunter but I can still handle a gun; and I can take care of myself. Now I'll repeat myself, who?" You say sternly.

"Lucifer." Sam says.

"That son of a bitch." you say. "You ever need help when dealing with that bastard I want to know, okay."

Sam just nodds.

You close your eyes and pray, "Gabe, if you you're out there please come home."

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