Samandriel finds Gabriel rooting through the weapons room one night in the midst of the oncoming apocalypse. At first, all he can do is stand there, shocked, before he finally coughs out, “Gabriel? What are you doing here?” He’s almost not sure it is Gabriel, because it’s been, must be, centuries since the guy was upstairs, so long that many of Samandriel’s older brothers had thought him dead.
When Gabriel looks up, his lips twitch into a crooked grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Hey little bro,” he says with a shrug, like it hasn’t been more than a few weeks since they last saw each other, like the world isn’t ending below them. “Just looking around for some mead. Stuff they got downstairs is-”
“In the weapons room?” his little brother cuts him off, peering over his shoulder where he can see an array of angel blades that Gabriel’s been gathering. “Those belong to Heaven.”
“What, you came back after all this time to… steal weapons?” To Gabriel’s surprise, the young angel looks genuinely hurt.
“It’s not what it looks like, okay?” he says, leveling his gaze with Sandy. “I didn’t have a choice.”