So, you love me? - Destiel x reader

Part 11

Gabe sat alone on top of a library in downtown St Cloud, Minnesota. His legs swung aimlessly over the edge, the wind whipping at his shoelaces. He stared up at the baby blue sky. Today, the sun shown brightly over the small city, and there wasn't a cloud in sight.
Most of those clouds were probably in Gabriel's mind. He had been so close to Sam, and Dean just had to ruin it.
Ugh. Sam, he thought. He had left so fast he hadn't the time to say goodbye. To look into Sam's beautiful brown eyes and say...
Shit.
Gabe felt his face go bright red and he stared down at his feet. Below him on the sidewalk, a bunch of teens walked by talking about a fight from the previous day. There was also a hot dog stand with a moderate amount of people, as well as a mother, father and child sitting on the library steps eating their food. The one thing that caught his eye though, was the child. They were wearing a blue sundress with black hair that went just past their shoulder blades in two French braids, and contrasted greatly with their pale olive skin. Her looks, however, were not what caught his eyes. It was the looks she held on him; the soulless stare that she held in her dead, cold gray eyes. Her face was twisted by fear and she had dropped her hot dog long ago. Now, she was standing, pointing at him and only him. She screamed for her mother, who had been in deep conversation with the man next to her. She looked up at her daughter, then to me with a sharp gasp. Several bystanders looked at me as well and pulled out cameras and other devices to live stream what they most likely thought was my suicide. Some one ran inside the building, but I decided to ignore them and stood up on the ledge, giving them a little speech I had been working on.
"It's funny how you all decide to record me taking my final breath." I yelled loud enough so the cameras below could hear me. They were mostly frozen in shock, but I still had the full attention of the cameras. "It's funny how all of you, those who consider themselves saints, those who consider them selves good, those who consider themselves to be able to change the world, stand there and record me, thinking it'll make a difference. Well guess what," I stepped closer to the edge of the building. The little girl thrashed in her mother's arms.
"Mommy! Mommy what's he doing? Mommy make him stop please!" Her face was tear-streaked and twisted in the rage.
"Hush baby." She shout whispered into her daughters ear, stroking her hair as she looked up to me with tear filled eyes. The man who had once been sitting next to her was now gone. The child continued yelling at her mother, reaching upwards towards me. A few of the cameras panned in her direction.
"You all believe that this is going to fix anything. Preaching a dead man's words to the masses, only to be forgotten within a month. How freaking funny, am I right?" I gave them a sarcastic chuckle, but received nothing but silence. Screw this: time for a final act.
I stepped closer to the edge, tension rising through the audience below me. I heard a door open behind me and I stepped over the stone edge, awaiting the cold stone below.