God Mend These Broken Wings Chapter One

"Carry on my wayward son,
There'll be peace when you are done,
Lay your weary head to rest,
Don't you cry no more…"

Dean glanced in his review mirror.  It was strange to see Cas asleep in the back.  But then again, what about this night wasn't strange?  "Aw, ain't he a little angel?" he heard himself say.

Sam glanced in the backseat.  "Angels don't sleep," he said blankly.

Dean let a moment pass before switching subjects.  "Sam, I got a bad feeling about this."

"Well, you'd be nuts to have a good feeling about it."

Dean scowled.  "You know what I mean.  Detroit.  He always said he'd jump your bones in Detroit. Here we are. Maybe this is him rolling out the red carpet, you know? Maybe he knows something that we don't."

Sam snorted lightly.  "Dean, I'm sure he knows a buttload we don't. We just got to hope he doesn't know about the rings.  Hey, um... on the subject, there's something I got to talk to you about."

Dean gritted his teeth.  He would rather pull his own teeth out with pliers.  But instead of doing that he asked, "What?"

"This thing goes our way and I...Triple lindy into that box... Y-you know I'm not coming back."

He clenched his jaw impossibly tighter, pain shooting through all the nerves in his mouth but he ignored them.  "Yeah, I'm aware," he managed to say.

"So you got to promise me something," Sam continued.

"Ok, yeah.  Anything."

"You got to promise not to try to bring me back," Sam said in a rush, like if he didn't throw the words out they'd stay inside him, and Dean sure as hell wished they had.

"What?!?!  No!  I didn't sign up for that!"

"Dean-" Sam tried to interject, but Dean wasn't having any of that.

"Your hell is gonna make my tour look like Graceland.  You want me to just sit by and do nothing?" Dean demanded, glancing at Sam incredulously.  

"Once the cage is shut you can't go poking at it Dean.  It's too risky," Sam said matter-of-factly.

"No, no, no, no, no. As if I'm just gonna let you rot in there," he argued.  Sam couldn't think that Dean would just leave him in Hell.

"Yeah, you are.  You don't have a choice," Sam said, this time sounding apologetic.  He knew how his words must be killing Dean, but he had to say them anyway.

"You can't ask me to do this."

"I'm sorry Dean," Sam said, and Dean glanced at him.  He could see the truth in Sam's eyes, that he was scared, and he'd give anything for his big brother to rescue him.  But he could see the stubborn set in Sam's jaw, and he knew Sam would never let his fear get the best of him.  "You have to," Sam added softly.

Dean licked his lips and stared out the windshield.  "So then what am I supposed to do?"

Sam takes a moment to organize his thoughts.  He wants to tell Dean to buy a house with Cas, maybe adopt some kids somewhere down the line.  But he knows his brother would never accept that, he's not ready to admit anything even to himself.  Sam desperately wishes he would be around long enough for Dean to admit his feelings for the angel, well ex-angel now, to see them get together and be happy.  But he's not going to be.

"You're supposed to be happy.  Buy a house.  Get one in Sioux Falls so Bobby's close.  Maybe eventually settle down with a nice girl, or guy," he added, indicating his brother's less than linear sexual interests.  He'd never understood why Dean hadn't gotten with Cas when he clearly had no problem sleeping with guys.  Maybe it was because there were emotions in there.  "You do whatever it takes to be happy Dean.  And quit hunting.  You go live some normal, apple pie life.  Dean.  Promise me."

"You want me to quit hunting?" Dean asked him.

"You'll never be happy if you're still hunting."

"Sammy, I was made for hunting."

Sam shook his head sadly.  "No Dean, hunting made you."

Dean didn't say anything for a while, and the brothers road in silence, the only sound between them were Cas's soft snores.  But then Dean spoke, his voice low and serious.  "Ok Sam.  I promise."

***

It seems unnaturally cold in Detroit, but Dean thinks his mind is probably just playing tricks on him.

"Demons. At least two dozen of them. You were right, something's up," Bobby is saying as he looks towards the building Lucifer is most likely in.

"More than something. He's here. I know it," Dean said as he moved to open the impala's trunk.  He didn't like the idea of Sam sucking down all that demon juice, but he didn't like the idea of anything that was about to happen.

Sam walked over to Bobby.  "I'll see ya around, kid," Bobby said, trying to put on a brave face.

"See ya around," Sam replied, pulling the old man into a hug.  

"He gets in... You fight him tooth and nail, you understand? Keep swingin'. Don't give an inch," Bobby said close to his ear, his voice sounding dangerously close to tears.  Sam wanted to tell him everything, to thank him for being the father they'd never really had, but if he started he'd never stop, so he released Bobby.

"Yes, sir," he said with a nod before going over to Cas.

"Cas," he said quietly, the words only for him.  "You gotta look after Dean, ok?  Protect him."

Cas looked at him sadly.  "Sam, I'm human, I can barely protect myself."

Sam rolled his eyes.  "Just watch out for him.  Protect him from himself.  He's going to need someone after I'm gone, you gotta be that person, ok?"

Cas stared at him solemnly.  "Of course, Sam."

Sam smiled sadly.  "Thanks," he said before going over to Dean and the impala.  He looked at the jugs of blood with distaste.  "You mind not watching this?" he asked Dean.

Dean stood there looking at him for a long moment before finally saying "Ok," and going to stand with Bobby and Cas.

***

"Sorry if it's a bit chilly," Lucifer said.  Sam and Dean had entered Lucifer's hidey-hole, and demons had practically been waiting to escort them to the big man himself.  "Most people think I burn hot.  It's actually quite the opposite."

"We'll alert the media," Dean quipped.

"Help me understand something, guys. I mean, stomping through my front door is...a tad suicidal, don't you think?"

"We're not here to fight you," Sam said, taking a step forward.  

"No?" Lucifer asked with a tilt of his head.  "Then why are you here?"

Sam took a deep breath.  "I want to say yes."

Lucifer raised his eyebrows in surprise.  "Excuse me?"  

Sam closed his eyes and the demons standing behind Lucifer seemed to suffer implosions.  Lucifer's expression changed.  "Chock full of oval tine are we?"

Sam ignored his sarcasm.  "You heard me.  Yes."

Lucifer studied him for a moment while Dean hung back.  "You're serious," he said, a flat note of surprise in his tone.

"Look, judgment day's a runaway train. We get it now. We just want off," Sam said matter-of-factly.

"Meaning?"

"Deal of the century. I give you a free ride, but when it's all over, I live, he lives, you bring our parents back-" Sam began.

"Okay, can we please drop the telenovela? I know you have the rings, Sam," Lucifer said calmly.

Dean's eyes widened.  That was their only plan, straight down the drain.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Sam lied unconvincingly.

"The horsemen's rings? The magic keys to my cage? Ring a bell? Come on, Sam. I've never lied to you. You could at least pay me the same respect. It's okay. I'm not mad. A wrestling match inside your noggin... I like the idea. Just you and me, one round, no tricks. You win, you jump in the hole. I win... Well, then I win," Lucifer said smugly.   "What do you say, Sam? A fiddle of gold against your soul says I'm better than you," he teased.

"So he knows," Sam said with a shrug.  "Doesn't change anything."

"Sam," Dean started.

"We don't have any other choice."
"No," Dean breathed, but Sam continued like he hadn't even heard him.  

"Yes," Sam said, his voice strong and unwavering.  Lucifer closed his eyes and a bright light emanated from him, blinding Dean.  When the light faded Sam and Lucifer were on the floor, both appeared to be unconscious although he supposed Lucifer's previous vessel was just dead.

Dean didn't waste any time.  He pulled the Horsemen's rings from his pocket, flinging them at a blank wall.  They stuck like they were magnets on a fridge.  He held his hand out towards them, beginning the chant.  "Bvtmon...Tabges...Babalon."  The wall sucked in like it was under a tremendous amount of pressure, revealing a gaping black hole.

Sam began to stir and Dean turned to him.  "Sammy!" he called, rushing to his side to help him stand.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, his face scrunched up in concentration.  "I can feel him!  Oh God!"

"You got to go now!" Dean yelled over the roar coming from the hole.  "Come on!  Go now, Sammy, go now!"

Sam nodded and let go of Dean, stepping towards the hole.  Dean watched his back, unable to tear his eyes away from his baby brother, about to walk into the mouth of hell.  Sam stopped a few feet short.  He turned back to Dean, a cold expression on his face.  "I was just messing with you. Sammy's long gone," he said in a voice that wasn't Sammy's voice at all.  Dean recognized it from the future, when he'd talked to Lucifer in that garden.  While Dean was processing this Sam, no, Lucifer looked at the wall and said the invocation to close it.  He turned back to Dean, the Horsemen rings in his hand.

"I told you," he said, almost apologetically.  "This would always happen in Detroit."

And then he was gone.

***

"It's starting," Cas says bleakly as they stand outside an electronics store.  The TVs in the window are all playing the news, and the news is as bleak as Cas's tone.  The globe has been rocked, quite literally, by earthquakes.

"Yeah, ya think, genius?" Bobby retorted.

Cas frowned at the older hunter.  "You don't have to be mean."

They listened as another earthquake was reported.  "What do we do now?" Dean asked flatly.

Cas slid his gaze to Dean.  "I suggest we imbibe copious quantities of alcohol... Just wait for the inevitable blast wave."

Dean pursed his lips.  "Swell. Thank you, bukowski. I mean, how do we stop it?"

"We don't.  Lucifer will meet Michael on the chosen field.  And the battle of Armageddon begins."

"Ok," Dean said, a plan formulating in his head.  "Well, where's this chosen field?"

"I don't know," Cas said honestly.

"Well there's got to be something that we can do."

"I'm sorry Dean.  This is over."

Dean mulled that over for a moment.  "No it's not," he eventually said, his voice soft.

Cas narrowed his eyes at Dean.  "It is.  Lucifer has his true vessel, Michael has a vessel that's, well, it's not true but it's good enough-"

Dean shook his head.  "Michael's vessel can't be good enough, because Michael's vessel isn't me.  The Michael Sword and Lucifer's vessel are supposed to be from the same bloodline, right?"  Cas nodded.  "The bloodlines of the Winchesters and the Campbells.  Sam's both.  Adam's not, he's just a Winchester."

"What are you getting at?" Cas growled, stepping up and into Dean's face.

"I have to get Michael to take me," Dean answered, not backing down.

A few feet away Bobby swore loudly.  "Dean, what the hell is the matter with you?  I know you feel like all is lost, but we've already been down this road!  He don't want you no more!"

Dean set his jaw.  "He will when I explain to him that Adam's not good enough.  Not strong enough to take on Lucifer."

Cas glared at him, his blue eyes shining bright with anger.  "And just when I thought you weren't a coward."

Dean returned his glare.  "You think I'm a coward?"  He shook his head.  "No, Cas, I'm not a coward.  If I were a coward I'd go bury my head in the sand, let Adam and Sam play vessel by themselves as the world ended around me.  I'm no coward."

"So this isn't a convoluted suicide attempt?" Cas shot back.

Dean blinked, surprised.  Because, in a way, it was.  "I ain't gonna let Sam die alone.  And if I can at least save Adam?  Well, I'll consider it a job well done."

Dean could see the fury barely contained in Cas's eyes.  "You are so ignorant.  Do you think Sam would want that?  Do you think Bobby wants that?  That I-" he cut himself off, swallowing thickly, as if to contain his tears.  "You're a stupid sonofabitch is what you are," he finally growled after he'd composed himself.

"You're not going to change your mind, are you son?" Bobby asked sadly.  He looked much older than he should in that moment, and Dean realized he could mark today as the day he lost both his sons.  Maybe Cas could gradually take his and Sam's places, he'd need someone as much as Bobby did.

He shook his head.  "No, Bobby, I'm not.  Listen… Can you give me a minute with Cas?"

Bobby looked like he was going to object, but then he nodded and stalked off in the direction of his truck.  

Dean turned to face Cas.  "Cas-"

"How can you do this?" Cas interrupted him.

Dean shrugged.  "I can't do this without Sam."

Cas stared at him, his gaze icy.  "And I can't do this without you," he said softly, his tone contradicting his eyes.

Dean licked his lips.  "There's no way you can go home, is there?" he asked, his tone matching Cas's.

"When you rebel in the name of a human over and over again, you seal your own fate," Cas answered.

"You can't, I don't know, pray for forgiveness or something?" Dean asked, knowing how lame he sounded.

Cas smiled bitterly.  "I would have to regret my actions to ask for forgiveness.  I would go down this path a thousand times, even if I knew we would fail I would still rebel in your name, Dean.  Even if I wanted to ask for forgiveness, which I don't, I wouldn't be granted it."

"Cas… I'll never understand why you've done all of this for us.  But I want to thank you."

"Dean, you don't have to thank me.  You've shown me that these were the right actions.  I'm the one who should be thanking you."

Dean ran a hand through his hair, uncomfortable with the sentimental scene.  "Listen, if all goes right, I'm going to free Adam.  I want you to take care of him, ok?  Watch out for him.  If the world doesn't actually go up in smoke, don't let him be a hunter."

Cas smiled wryly.  "Sam asked me to take care of you before he left."

"Yeah, well, that was an impossible job from the jump.  Adam's not me though.  So protect him."

Cas was solemn.  "I'll protect him with my life."

Dean belatedly realized he wanted to kiss Cas goodbye.  It was a ridiculous want, and selfish, because he knew if he gave in to that desire neither of them would let go.  So he pushed it from his mind, fishing the keys to the impala out of his pocket.  He tossed them to Cas, who caught them, surprise clearly written on his face.

"Dean, no."

"I want you to have her.  You and Bobby just wait around town for a while, I'll have Michael send Adam your way, he can drive her back.  Bobby can teach you how to drive."

Cas looked down at the keys in his hand.  "Dean… I just want you to be aware that if you do this… The only thing you're going to see is your own hands killing your brother."

Dean stuffed his hands in his pockets, scuffing his boot against the ground.  "My Dad once told me if I couldn't save Sam I'd have to kill him," he gazed into Cas's eyes.  "Well I didn't save him.  So that only leaves one option."

***

Dean grimaced as it began to rain lightly on him.  He hunched his shoulders and stuffed his hands in his pockets as he walked down the dark and deserted street.  He came to a sheltered bus stop that he deemed good enough for the grand 'giving up' he had planned.

But for a moment, he sits on the bench, and he gives a little time to himself.  It's a concept he's unfamiliar with, and it's like an itch under his skin.  He runs a rough palm over his face, a heaviness in his chest.  He'd give anything if only it hadn't come to this.  But it did.  He sighed and rested his elbows on his knees, his hands dangling uselessly between his legs.

"Michael," he said, his voice calm and even.  He didn't shout, he only said the name as if Michael were sitting on the bench with him.  He knew the archangel could hear him.  "Listen.  I know you think you're all set with Adam, but you're not.  You need me, not him, he's only half the bloodline you guys worked so hard to get."

There wasn't a telltale rustle of wings like when Cas would pop in.  One minute Dean was on the bench, alone, and the next Michael was sitting next to him.  "I assumed you would be pleased.  You avoided becoming my vessel, after all."

Dean licked his lips.  "Yeah, because you took my little brother."

Michael smirked at him.  "Dean, you don't him from, well, Adam.  You can lie to yourself all you want but we both know this isn't about Adam."

"You're right," Dean all but snapped.  "It's about Sam.  Adam's just a bonus."  Dean took a deep breath.  "You know I'm right.  I know you already know all the reasons I'm the better vessel.  So can we just do this already?"

Michael stared at him coldly, and even though it should unnerve him Dean just stared back.  Finally, Michael spoke.  "What are your demands?"

Dean blinked, surprised.  Sure, he had a few, but he hadn't expected Michael to just ask for them.  "Adam walks.  When you jump in, I get a few minutes to talk to him, just to give him some instructions.  Sammy and I get nice, comfy spots in heaven when it's all over with."

Michael seemed to consider Dean's demands for a moment before nodding.  "I believe those are fair terms.  I need to hear the magic word though, Dean."

Dean didn't hesitate.  "Yes," he said calmly.

It was different then he expected it to be.  He expected it to feel like an invasion of some kind, like the worst of Alastair's tortures in Hell, but it wasn't.  It was just that one moment he was just Dean, and the next he was Dean and Michael, two entities occupying one body.  He blinked and he found that he had control over his body, for now anyway.  Michael had made good on his promise.

"Dean?  What the hell is going on?" someone asked and Dean directed his gaze to Adam, sitting where Michael had left him.

"I got Michael to take me instead of you.  Listen, I don't have much time."  He hooked his thumb over his shoulder.  "A couple of blocks from here you're gonna find Cas and Bobby waiting for you, you remember them, right?"  Adam nodded slowly, still clearly confused.  "Good.  You're gonna have to stay with Bobby for a while.  You can't go home, because you suddenly showing up after being a missing person's case is going to be suspicious, and they'll think you had something to do with your Mom's disappearance too."

Adam stared at him, searching his face.  "Dean, I don't understand, you were free?"

Dean's gaze softened.  "You had no business getting dragged into this.  Letting you stay in it would've been wrong."

"He's in you now, isn't he?"

Dean nodded.  "Go on," he said, nodding his head in the direction he'd pointed.  "Cas'll look out for you."

Adam stood and Dean did too.  "Thank you Dean," Adam said, unexpectedly crushing him into a hug.

Dean shrugged, forcing the tears out of his eyes.  "Big brothers are supposed to protect their little brothers."

Adam didn't say anything else, probably couldn't, so he just smiled sadly and turned and walked away.

As Dean watched him go there was a tickle in his brain.  Finished?  The word wasn't spoken so much as slipped into his thoughts.

He nodded.  "I'm finished."

And then Michael took over.

***

Dean wasn't exactly tucked away inside a dark room in Michael's subconscious.  He was still there, he could see and feel everything that Michael did, he just couldn't control any of it.  It was like a lucid dream, he knew he was dreaming but he couldn't wake up.

He sort of had a body of his own.  At least, he perceived that he did.  He was truly formless, but he could feel the phantom itch of his body.

Time was flowing differently than it did when Dean was just Dean.  He didn't completely understand it but it was sort of like the moments in which Michael wasn't needed just didn't exist for him.

Which is how Dean found himself at Stull Cemetery in Kansas less than five minutes after he'd been talking to Adam.  Or, at least it seemed like five minutes, he knew it was actually the next day.

His heart clenched painfully in his chest when he saw Sam.  It's not your brother, Dean.  Michael assured him.  Dean perceived a frown.  Yes it is.  Sammy's in there.  For a moment he felt a flash of something, sympathy, maybe?, shoot through Michael but it was gone as fast as it had appeared.

"It's good to see you Michael," Lucifer said.  "Although I'm surprised to see you're in this one after all."

"That was the Plan, brother."  Michael looked around.  "Can you believe it's finally here?"

"No, not really," was Lucifer's reply.  

"Are you ready?" Michael asked him.

"As I'll ever be."  Lucifer looked at Michael closely.  "A part of me wishes we didn't have to do this," he confessed.

"Yeah.  Me too," Michael replied, and Dean could feel the truth in Michael's words.  Michael wanted to kill Lucifer about as much as Dean wanted to kill Sam.  Both left with a father's plan to kill their own blood.  Dean felt for him, much as he didn't want to.  He could relate.  I don't need your pity Michael hissed at him.  Then look again, angel boy, because that wasn't pity, Dean responded sadly.

"Then why are we?" Lucifer was saying.

"You know why!  I have no choice after what you did!" Michael shouted.  Dean could sense him trying to believe his own words.

"What I did?  What if it's not my fault?"

Dean could feel the surprise and anger flash through Michael.  "What is that supposed to mean?" he growled.

"Think about it.  Dad made everything.  Which means he made me who I am!  God wanted the devil."

"So?" Michael shot back.

"So why?  And why make us fight?  I just can't figure out the point."  Dean's heart ached at Lucifer's words, everything was ringing so true to his own story.  "We're going to kill each other," he continued.  "And for what?  One of Dad's tests?  And we don't even know the answer.  We're brothers.  Let's just walk off the chessboard."

Dean could feel the way Michael was swayed by Lucifer's words.  Michael desperately wanted to do what Lucifer was asking, but he wasn't going to let himself.  He had to follow the Plan.  "I'm sorry.  I-I can't.  I'm a good son, and I have my orders."  Take it from one Good Son to another, nothing good ever came of following Dad's orders, Dean offered.  I didn't ask for your opinion, Michael growled.

"But you don't have to follow them," Lucifer said, as close to begging as Dean would bet he'd get.

"What, you think I'm gonna rebel?  Now?  I'm not like you."

"Please, Michael-"

"You know, you haven't changed a bit, little brother," Michael cut in, the steely resolve back in his voice.  "Always blaming everybody but yourself.  We were together.  We were happy.  But you betrayed me," the pain in Michael's voice reminded Dean uncomfortably of when Sam had betrayed him, when he'd chosen that demon bitch Ruby over his own brother.  "All of us, and you made our Father leave."

"No one makes Dad do anything," Lucifer growled, righteous fury blazing in his eyes.  "He is doing this to us."

"You're a monster, Lucifer.  And I have to kill you."  Michael's voice was flat and emotionless when he said those words, and Dean could feel a chill creeping up his spine.

"If that's the way it's got to be," Lucifer replied, his voice as dead as Michael's.  "Then I'd like to see you try."

Suddenly there was an angel sword in Michael's hand, but it was unlike any Dean had seen before.  It was an actual sword, for starters, long and deadly, and it was on fire.  Holy fire, Dean imagined.

There was a perfect match for it in Lucifer's hand.  The flames licked at their hands but apparently they couldn't burn their owners.  Dean didn't have long to study Lucifer's sword because suddenly he was nowhere in sight.  Michael apparently knew the score though, because he spun around, his sword already upraised to fend off the blow.  The sharp blade would've sliced clean through his neck if he hadn't.

This close, Dean could see into Lucifer's eyes clearly, but he couldn't see Sammy like he'd hoped he could.  He desperately wished he could close his eyes to this fight, to just cease existing now, and wake up in heaven with Sammy when it was over.  Instead he was like Mel Gibson in Conspiracy Theory, his eyes held open as things he'd rather not see played out before him.

Michael slid his sword away from Lucifer's, spinning and shoving the hilt backwards into Lucifer's stomach, knocking the breath from him.  Michael danced away before Lucifer could catch his breath, and they stood, glaring at each other.

Lucifer grinned wickedly.  "Why don't we cut the crap and start playing for keeps?"

Michael roared, an angry, animal sound as he lunged at him.  They moved rapidly, too fast for Dean to keep up with everything as they struck, parrying blows and sending more each other's way, the sounds of their swords clanging together ringing in the still morning air.  Dean was sure their swords would be spraying sparks with the force they were hitting each other, if they weren't already flaming.                                                                                                                                                                                                               

"It's not too late, brother," Lucifer grunted.

"It's far too late," Michael retorted.  Dean could feel the bone-chilling ache flowing through Michael, the way he loved Lucifer with every fiber of his being.  Then why do you insist on fighting this battle? Dean asked him, but he got no answer.  He thought about chalking it up to Michael concentrating on the battle, but he knew Michael didn't have an answer for him.

It was while Dean was working through those thoughts that it had happened.  Lucifer didn't block a blow fast enough, and maybe he'd meant to let the strike come through.  But either way Michael's sword slid through him like he was butter.

Dean wasn't sure whose horror he was feeling, Michael's or his own.  Distantly, he was aware that Michael had never thought it would actually happen, even in the midst of the fight he had never truly intended to kill Lucifer.  Dean could only stare at the blood sliding down Michael's blade and onto his fingers.  Sam's blood on his hands.  Simultaneously he and Michael both looked up into their brother's eyes, mouth agape with shock.

"I'm so sorry little brother," Dean's mouth said, and he couldn't honestly say which of them had spoken.

There was blood leaking from the corner of Lucifer's mouth, blood that was entirely Sam's because angels didn't have blood to bleed.  "It's ok," he said, smiling softly, and there was something in his eyes, and Dean knew the words were Sam's.  Or maybe, like with his and Michael's apology, it was from both of them.  "I forgive you big brother," he whispered.

Michael pulled the sword out and Sam/Lucifer fell to his knees.  His hand fluttered uselessly to the gaping wound in his chest, seconds before Lucifer's Grace exploded from him in a wash of white light.  Dean didn't have to cover his eyes, protected by Michael's Grace.

There were two scorched wings on either side of Sam's body, larger than any he had ever seen before.  Again, he and Michael moved as one, dropping to Sam's side.  Dean longed to call out Sam's name, even though he knew his brother was gone.  He wanted to scream and cry and pound his fist into something until every bone in his hand was a shattered fragment, but Michael was in charge, and he just rested on his knees beside his brother's vessel.

"Dean," Michael began, speaking aloud.

Save it.  I know you're looking for forgiveness from me, but you're never going to get it.  You killed both our brothers in one fell swoop, and I don't give a damn that you're hurting, that you didn't want to.  Because you could've put a stop to it, you could've said to hell with your Dad's plan.  I did!

"But it was written!"

Yeah?  And who gives a damn what is written when your perfect Father isn't even around to enforce his own Plan?

Michael was silent for a long time.  "I'm sorry," he finally said.  Dean was silent, waiting.  "I'll take my leave from you now."

Dean imagined his blood running cold.  You'll do what now?

"I'll leave you.  You can go on with your life."

What?!?!  No!  What about the apocalypse?  What about me being with Sammy in heaven?

Dean felt Michael curl his lips into a smile.  "I held up my end.  I killed Lucifer.  As for the rest of the apocalypse?  It can go screw itself, I'm not interested in it.  Which means it won't happen.  You and the rest of the human race are safe.  You should be happy about that.  As for seeing Sam in heaven, I told you that would happen and it will.  Once your human life ends you will be reunited with him in heaven."

Michael, no, you can't leave me here like this without him, I can't do it, just take me, please, just kill me.  Dean had the illusion of sobbing, it felt like he was but his physical face remained calm, as Michael was still at the wheel.  Please you can't leave me here without Sammy, please just end this pain, he's the only thing I have, I can't live without him.  Please, he begged brokenly.

Michael didn't respond for a long time, just stared quietly down at Sam's face.  No, he wasn't staring at Sam's face, he was looking just past it, to where the ash wings began on the ground.

"You're not as alone as you think, Dean.  You'll thank me for this one day," he said, and then he was gone.  There was no showy flash of light, no chorus of angels singing, he left Dean like he had come to him, there one minute and gone the next.

And that left only Dean.  He scooped Sam's lifeless body into his arms, holding him to his chest tightly.  "I'm so sorry Sammy," he said over and over as sobs rocked his body.  Soon the words were nothing but senseless noises as he cried.

He remembered the other time Sam had died, after that Jake guy had stabbed him.  Dean had only wanted to do one of two things, either sell his soul to bring him back or put a gun in his mouth and kiss the world goodbye.  But he couldn't do either of those things now.

He had promised Sam.  He'd promised him he wouldn't try to bring him back, and he'd promised him he would try to be happy.

And he couldn't break a promise to Sam.

***

"Are you sure Stull's the cemetery Chuck said?" Bobby asked for the thousandth time as the iron framework sign came into view.  

Cas glared at the old hunter.  "I may no longer be an angel, but I can still hear.  Yes, Stull Cemetery."

Adam sat quietly slumped in the back of the '71 Chevelle, as he had for most of the ride, but he sat up as they drove under the arch.  Bobby drove straight through the cemetery, going slowly as they all looked out their respective windows, searching for signs of the archangels or the Winchesters.

Bobby spotted Dean first.  "Oh no," he said, his voice low with dread.  He threw the car into park and got out, but he didn't need to go any further to see what had happened, to hear Dean's heart-breaking sobs.  He could see the kid's shoulders shaking with the force of them, and he took his hat off.  He felt his own heart break as he gazed at the mess of shaggy brown hair and the long, gangly legs, the only parts visible of Sam as Dean held his body to him.

Adam and Cas came to stand on either side of him.  "They did it," Adam whispered, although his volume didn't matter, Dean wouldn't hear anything with this much grief crushing him.  "They saved the world."

Bobby felt a tear slide down his face.  "I almost wish they hadn't," he replied.