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Title: Eve of Destruction
Author: Mamapranayama
Rating: T
Genre: Gen
Categories: H/C, angst
Word count: 5000 (complete)
Summary: What if they said 'yes'? A speculative fic for the end of season 5, will most likely be an AU story by the end of the season.
A/N: So, this is a bit of a departure for me. I don't usually write speculative fics and I'm sure that by the end of the season this will be an AU story, but I couldn't sleep the other night and out popped this story. It's un-beta'd and probably not my best, but I hope you enjoy it and drop me a line to let me what what you think of it. :D
Eve of Destruction
Detroit
He sees it all.
From eyes that aren't his own anymore, he takes in his surroundings and feels his legs moving until Michael stops him in the center of the abandoned auto parts factory. His arms pull the sword sheathed on his back out with a metallic swish that echoes across the walls, planting the tip of the sword on the concrete floor. Michael holds the hilt firmly with both hands, his feet set firmly in place then lifts Dean's head and tilts it back. With his unearthly, angelic voice, Michael shouts using Dean's vocal chords, "Lucifer! Show thyself!"
The words would have been deafening to human ears as it shakes the building from it's foundation to the rafters, shattering all of the remaining windows in a gust of wind and glass.
But Michael holds Dean's body steady, unaffected by the chaos the mere sound of his voice creates and begins to wait patiently.
Prepare yourself, Dean. The time is at hand for this to all end. He hears Micheal speak to him from within.
From the dark depths of the shadows a figure emerges. Dressed in white from head to toe, he saunters into the light with a feral grin creasing his face. Hazel eyes shift into a murkey black, dark and evil. No! Dean wants to scream, but his body is not his own and he can only shout it from the inside.
Calm yourself. All is as it should be and it will all be over soon.
Dean scoffs at Micheal's voice echoing inside of his soul, not allowing himself to feel any of the serenity that Michael is trying to pour into him. It was Sam. How could he be expected to allow his body to kill Sam's and remain calm?
His brother's, yet not his brother's smile widens and he feels the anger and guilt swell up inside of him.
I should have never left him.
"Hello, my brother. It's been a long time. But still just as bossy, I see." Sam's voice bounces off the wall, dripping with venom and malice. But Dean knows it's not really Sam's voice. His Sam was only a puppet now, much like he was himself.
"It is time, Lucifer." Michael states the line in a curt and matter-of-fact manner that reminds Dean of Castiel's dead-panned deliveries.
"Indeed it is. Oh, how I have waited for this day, Michael and at last it's finally here." Lucifer lifts his hand and more shadows appear from the darkness, taking human form with eyes black as midnight. Lucifer's glare never leaves his brother's while one of his demons produces a sword for him as well and places it into the devil's waiting hand.
Taking the long, broad sword, Lucifer twirls it and brandishes it with expert grace and agility. Dean feels Michael tighten his grip on the hilt and lift the weapon up off the ground. Without any of the pretentious flash Lucifer displays, Michael merely holds the sword with steady hands, pointing it towards his brother.
On all sides of him Dean feels rather than sees the masses of angels that have gathered behind him and knows that they won't strike until Michael does. Out of the corner of his eye, he makes out Cas as well, his presence is a welcome sight and bolsters his courage.
The demons on the other side of the open floor ready themselves, shifting in their spots and glowering with ferocity as they also wait for their master's cue.
A wave of determination and resolute vigor washes over Dean's body as Micheal's own emotions seep into him. His muscles tense and grow taught.
Lucifer takes an offensive stance then growls, "Bring it on!"
Things happen too fast after that for Dean to keep up. Lucifer charges at Michael and Michael in turn races towards his brother taking Dean along for the ride. Demons and angels clash on all sides of him.
Dean's arms reverberate when the steel of Micheal's sword connects with Lucifer's. Michael is swift and sure with his movements, parrying, feinting and striking while Lucifer too lands blow after blow on his body. Dean feels every slice, every stab and every cut that his brother inflicts on his soft flesh and he can only watch helplessly and painfully while Michael wreaks the same damage to Sam's body.
The battle rages on for what feels like an eternity. Blood and gore coat the floor as body parts fly and bodies fall. Dean's body is starting to weaken with each new injury and it's becoming harder and harder to get back up each time he falls, but Michael keeps him going, infusing him with angelic energy far longer than he thought he could endure. Lucifer contorts Sam's face into one of hellacious fury and strikes again, slashing Dean's chest deep to the bone.
Michael falters then and falls to the floor. He can feel the angelic energy wavering and weakening as Sam's body looms over him. He too is covered with blood, his once white suit now ripped and stained red. Lucifer raises the sword over Sam's head, dark, demonic eyes glowing with rage, ready to deliver the final blow.
Then the unexpected happened.
Lucifer's eyes melted from black to hazel as his hands shook and trembled under the weight of his sword. Dean saw it as did Michael. This was Sam. It was Sam holding back the sword.
"Do it..." Sam cried out, his voice heavy with the strain. "I can't...hold him much longer..."
Michael didn't hesitate. Dean screamed inside, unable to stop the angel from lifting the weapon and driving it deep into his brother's belly until it came out from his back.
Sam's eyes snapped back to black as his knees hit the floor, sword still impaled through him.
"NO!" Lucifer screamed while Michael wiped blood off from Dean's chest, coating his hand with the slick liquid and pressing it onto a sigil carved into the sword's hilt. Latin phrases escaped from Dean's lips, he knew not what was said, only that Sam was dying right in front of his eyes and by his hand. Satan's eyes rolled into the back of Sam's head while his body convulsed and shook. His mouth opened wide into a scream, black and fiery smoke poured forth from his whole body, seeping out of his pours, his eyes, his mouth until it coalesced and formed a dark cloud above them.
Michael was using Dean voice to shout the final, parting blow to Lucifer. "In Gloria Patri! Amen!"
The massive black cloud drew in on itself into a dense ball of emptiness as the remaining demons filled the air with their screams, smoke billowing from their mouths, joining Satan in his death throes. The force built up and up until the dark hole that had once been the prince of darkness exploded outward, the shock-wave knocking Dean to his back, erupting his world into a blinding whiteness.
And then it was quiet.
It was a silence unlike anything he had ever experienced before. As though he was trapped in a vacuum, no sound reached his ears until he heard a voice from deep within.
Well done, good and faithful servant. Heaven's gates shall open wide for you.
An energy built up from within. He lifted his head to the heavens and let out a wail, that same power flowed out in an explosion of white-hot, searing intensity, screaming while Michael was torn from him, leaving his body. It was as though his own soul was being ripped into two pieces until finally it was all expelled and he collapsed to the cold floor. The white vanished into black.
OOOOO
Sam opened his eyes. Pain filled every fiber of his body, but he was happy for it. It was his pain and his pain alone, not Lucifer's. Not anymore and never again. He wasn't expecting to still be alive, he was certain that when Dean, or Michael actually, had thrust that sword through him that his next conscious thought would be of him being surrounded by sulfur, fire and brimstone, not of him lying on his side, bleeding on a cold, factory floor.
He knew he was dying and he was okay with that and with whatever punishment awaited him on the other side. He deserved no less than hell. But, it had worked, it had been a horrific experience, but it worked and he was at peace with his decision as he reflected on it.
He had gone to Detroit to find his brother, to save him from the angels, but he had been too late. Dean had given-up and given in. Sam knew it from the second that he saw the taillights of the Impala pull away from him at that motel, but he had felt it coming on long before then.
But he hadn't been ready to give up on his brother yet, not when he had let him down so much before, and not while he still had breath left in him.
Bobby and Castiel had tracked Dean down, finding his car abandoned at an old, defunct factory where Detroit steel had once turned out cars like his brother's. Bobby had begged him not to go, but Sam hadn't listened. Instead, he left the older hunter and begged Castiel to zap him there. The angel refused, knowing that Dean had made his decision and was powerless to stop him. So, Sam committed another sin and stole a car, breaking every speed limit until he reached the city and the abandoned factory.
It had all been a trap. One that he saw coming, yes, since it was Satan himself that had told him where and when he would succumb, but that hadn't stopped him from trying to find his brother anyway. but when Sam got there, Dean was nowhere to be found and instead a host of demons found him and brought him to their master.
Torture followed. His screams filled the old factory walls, but they went unheard through the empty industrial park. He endured, unwilling to give in while Lucifer took his time slicing his skin, breaking his bones, stabbing him, burning his skin with boiling oil until he died only to be brought back to life whole and healthy so it could start all over again. All the while, Lucifer smiled, enjoying his work and offering for the pain to end if he would only say 'yes'.
It was on his seventh death at the hands of Satan that Sam found himself in the garden again with Joshua standing in front of him, his face the epitome of serenity.
"Hello, Sam." The angel greeted him.
"Joshua? What am I doing here?" Sam asked in surprise and confusion.
"You have died, of course." Came the reply, as if it was obvious. "I have a message for you and I don't have much time to relay it before Lucifer calls you back again."
"But you already told us what God wants, that he wants us to give up and stop fighting."
"Yes, he does and by now you know that your brother has already given himself over to Michael, but you misunderstand. I have a message for you."
"What is it?"
"There are those of us that want nothing more than to just back away and have nothing to do with this struggle you and the earth face. I was one of those until I met you and your brother. I was happy with being just a gardener. After all, I had God speaking to me. But, God has not spoken to me since we last met and I find myself torn and questioning what it all means. I believe God doesn't want to interfere with the affairs of his children simply because he is unwilling to choose sides as he loves each of his offspring equally, even Lucifer. But, you and I know that if Lucifer is allowed to win, that not only would the Earth be laid to waste, but so would heaven. As steward to the Lord's garden, I cannot let that happen, so I have decided to help you."
"Help me? How?".
Joshua smiled "Lucifer is very powerful indeed, but he does have a weakness that you can exploit: his fury."
"His fury?"
"Yes. His anger blinds him, makes him vulnerable. If you accept to being Lucifer's vessel you might be able to hold him long enough for Michael to gain the upper hand. However, the risk to you is great and you will surely die. Also, the pull of the darkness and evil within him is powerful and will be extremely hard to resist and you must wait until his rage is so great that it might overwhelm you."
"So, you're saying that if I let Satan ride me as a meat-suit that I might be able to take control again so I can let Michael kill me?"
"Essentially, yes. It will be difficult, but I sense in you that your will is strong and you might be able to do this. Our time is running out, you must go back now." Joshua held out his hand and touched Sam on the forehead "Remember this."
In a flash Sam saw the garden dissolve around him and reappear on the rack Satan had tied him to, Lucifer's face smiling above him. He remembered all of what Joshua had imparted to him, yet he was still torn. He had been gullible before and Ruby had proven that he was easily fooled. Angels too had lied to him before, what if this was just another trick for him to say 'yes'?
"Welcome back, Sammy." Satan crooned. "Well, what say you? Shall we continue on with the fun we're having or are you ready to finally accept your destiny?"
Sam ground his teeth. Something inside of him told him that Joshua was being sincere. After all, God spoke through Joshua for a reason, probably because he was the only one that God knew would speak the truth on his behalf. If there was a chance that it could work, then he had to take it, didn't he? He knew that becoming Satan's vessel would ultimately send him to hell, but Dean had gone to hell for him, if this could save Dean and the world, didn't he owe it to his brother and to the world that he had plunged into the apocalypse to do this?
So, then he said 'yes'.
The physical pain of the tortures he endured under Satan's hands was nothing compared to sights, sounds and events that he witnessed after Lucifer took hold of his body. He watched helplessly as people died by his hand, as their blood coated his fingers, as they were burned alive by the fires he set. Every face filled with fear, panic and pain, cut him to his core while Satan laughed at his misery. And ever present was the deep void that existed all around him, that called to him, that bade him to give in to his carnal desires to lust and kill.
Lucifer kept his control over Sam by inflicting as much pain and suffering to his soul as he could muster. Sam fought and fought, unwilling to slide completely from himself even when the fallen angel told how blissful everything would be for him if he just would let go of his humanity and embrace the power that he could feel pulsing all around him.
Sam was near a breaking point when he heard his brother's, or rather Micheal's voice reverberate through him and he found himself back at that factory in Detroit where his nightmare had all began.
He felt the rage Lucifer felt for his family, especially Micheal, build all around him, almost as if it were his own when he saw his brother standing before him, sword to the floor, prepared for their final fight.
Don't think that I am unaware of what you're thinking, Sam. Lucifer spoke to him. You can't stop me. So, just let it go, give in to it, you know you feel it, don't you? Look at your brother there- he left you, abandoned you to your fate so you could become a monster, just like your daddy knew you would become. Make him bleed, Sam, make him suffer. Embrace the power you have over him. We can rule together, you and I for all of eternity.
The anger was deep and burning and Sam felt his blood-lust rise despite how much he fought it. It grew and grew with each swipe of the sword that Michael cut him with until the rage was all-consuming. He was no longer fighting it and it actually did feel good to see his brother bleed and struggle against him.
It wasn't until he saw his brother falter that he remembered Joshua's words and they struck him once again, reminding him of his mission. He fought against the rage again with renewed strength, bolstered by the sight of Dean, his brother, not Lucifer's laying on the floor, struggling to get up.
Satan was becoming furious, at him for not giving himself over completely and for Micheal's unwillingness to stay down when he fell against his sword. Lucifer bade his arms to swing wildly with the sword until it cut a large swatch of skin across his brother's chest. He saw his Micheal fall, saw Dean through that flash of metal while white-hot anger coursed through him. He felt Lucifer's jealousy of his brother, felt it coalesce into a blind rage as he raised his arms for the final blow, felt Lucifer's control over him slip and release him for the briefest of moments as hid fury weakened Lucifer's grip on his soul and body. But it was enough.
Sam had control over his arms once again while Satan screamed at him from within, demanding to be released. Shaking from the effort, he looked down at his brother, pleading with him to make it stop, to make it all better, to chase away the pain and fear away like he had always done since he was a baby.
"Do it!" Sam ground out through vocal chords that Lucifer was struggling to take control of again. "I can't...hold him...much longer."
Then the pain came and Sam lost whatever control he had as quickly as he had taken it. All he could do after that was scream while his body was ripped asunder from the inside, tearing into the fabric of his soul until a lightness over came him and he was free to fall to the floor, the prison of his own body had been opened. Though he was broken, he didn't care. He was free.
The silence that came after all of that was deafening. That is until he heard his brother cry out and the world exploded into a fury of white and energy, blinding him and forcing him to shut his eyes tight against the power that was being unleashed. Just as quickly as it had come it was gone and he heard a thud as a body fell to the floor.
The sword that had gutted him disappeared with the light, but the pain remained. He would take it though, embrace it. It was what he deserved. He opened his eyes. Only the factory floor remained. Any traces of the battle that had been fought there were gone, no blood, no bodies, save for one: Dean.
He couldn't move, couldn't breathe without blood filling his throat, but he had to reach him. Had to get to Dean, see if he was still alive.
"Dean...." He cried weakly, his voice barely audible.
Dean was still, his body just as broken as his own. He was facing his brother, could see the damage that he had inflicted on his own brother and he cried white-hot tears of grief and regret. Eyelashes fluttered on Dean's face and gave Sam hope. Then he cried again when those eyes opened and looked at him.
OOOOO
Dean opened his eyes to a sight he had feared he would never see again. Hazel orbs, wet and glistening with tears stared back at him.
They were Sam's eyes. His Sam.
He rolled onto his stomach, the pain immeasurable from all of the injuries he had endured, but he had to get up, even if it was for the last time. He could only manage a slow crawl the few feet that separated them and with fierce determination he made it to his brother's side, grabbing his hand.
"Sam."
He didn't have to look at him to know that their time was short, his own energy was nearly spent and he couldn't hold on much longer. Sam slow blinked up at him, blood seeping from the corners of his mouth. A shaky hand snaked from his little brother's side and reached into a pocket. Without a word, a thin black, leather length of rope emerged, attached to it's end, a silver amulet that Dean had never expected to see again. Tears fell liberally and unashamed from Dean's face as Sam held it out to him.
"Hoped...you would want this...back someday...so I kept it." Sam's voice was barely a whisper, the effort the talk stealing the last bit of his strength."Lucifer...wanted it for himself....to find God...but...looks better..on you."
Dean took the amulet in his hand and took a long, blurry look at it through his tears before uncoiling the rope and lifting it above his head to slip it around his neck
"I'll never take it off." Dean told Sam, his voice cracking and weak. Sam nodded and smiled then took Dean's hand again as he closed his eyes and sighed.
Dean was never one for girly, chick-flick moments, but seeing as how they didn't have many moments left, he felt he could indulge himself and give into the needs of his body to lay down. So he did, on his side next to his brother, face to face, curling Sam's hand up to his chest, feeling his brother's pulse through his skin as it slowed. Rest, his body told him and for once he listened to it.
"I'm sorry, Sam." Dean whispered as he used his free hand to swipe a stray lock of hair that covered his little brother's eyes.
"Me too." Sam opened his eyes again and connected them with Dean's. No more words needed to be spoken, each brother knew what the other was thinking and feeling, an understanding passing between them that only they could fully comprehend. Dean watched Sam's eyes until they stared lifelessly through him. Shortly thereafter, his own eyes glazed over, the spark of life fleeing from them.
OOOOO
Waking up in an empty field at night with a box of firecrackers and bottle rockets next to him was not what Sam had expected. No fire, no brimstone, no tortured moans of the damned. Just him, laying on his back, taking in the clear sky above with stars sparkling bright in their constellations.
The all too familiar squeak of a car door opening and closing shut again had him sitting up and turning towards the noise. Sam couldn't help but smile in surprise at the sight that greeted him.
Dean, looking all of seventeen, was walking towards him, away from the Impala.
"Sam?" Dean asked as he approached. "Is that you?"
Sam stood and stared wide-eyed at his brother. Gone were the injuries he had dealt him, gone were the lines of pain etched in his face. He looked fresh and new, dressed as always in t-shirt, jeans , leather jacket and to Sam's immense pleasure, the amulet laying squarely on his chest. Then he realized something was off.
He had to be at least a foot shorter than Dean.
"Dean?" Sam asked confused. "Where are we? And how the hell did you get so tall?"
"Well..." Dean looked around, the smile growing on his face. "One. I think I have a pretty good idea where we are; this must be heaven again and two, I didn't get any taller, you got shorter, pipsqueak."
"Heaven?.... shorter?....pipsqueak?" Sam looked down at himself, smaller hands, feet and much shorter legs appeared to him.
"What the..." It dawned on him that he couldn't be any older than thirteen.
Dean laughed and it was music to Sam's ears, a sound he hadn't heard in far too long. Sam smiled despite himself. "I take it we must be in your heaven then, because in mine, I'd be a hellova lot taller than you."
"Actually, this is heaven for both of you." Sam and Dean turned simultaneously towards the mono-tone voice and the trench-coat wearing angel that owned it.
"Cas? What are you doing here? I thought you couldn't come back?" Dean asked.
Castiel gave them both a small grin. "I was judged after the battle and deemed worthy. I have been placed back into the heavenly host."
"Hey, that's great, Cas." Dean grinned back.
"Yes, it is indeed." Castiel too a deep breath and took in the fresh, night air, sighing in satisfaction. "It is good to be home once again."
Castiel walked up, closing the space between him and the two brothers. "I've been sent here to give you news. Joshua has heard God again and He has a message for you both. God has judged the Earth and while it falls short of his glory, He has decided to allow his grace to pass over it and spare it's people. However, there is still much evil in the world and he calls on you both to return and continue your work, but first He wishes for you both to use this time in heaven to heal and rest before you go back."
"Are you saying that God is giving us a vacation...in heaven?" Dean asked.
"Something like that. He gives you this one night, one that seemed to have significance for you both, to enjoy together and bond again as brothers."
"Then we get sent back?" Sam asked.
"I believe that is what I said." Cas replied, almost sounding annoyed. "Now, I will leave you both so you may enjoy your night." Castiel turned to leave and walk away, but Sam went after him.
"Cas, wait." He ran up to the angel and caught him by the coat sleeve, bringing him to a halt.
"Yes, Sam?"
"Um....You haven't really explained what I'm doing here. I mean, I gave in to Satan and was the firggin' devil's meat-suit. I thought for sure that this time around, I wouldn't be coming back to heaven that I'd be going downstairs for sure."
"Sam, your actions during the turning point in the battle have redeemed your soul. You should also know that when you return to Earth, your body will be cleansed of the demon blood that had infected you."
"So, I won't be 'the abomination' anymore? No powers or anything?" Sam asked in disbelief.
"No. You will just be...Sam Winchester- no more and no less."
"I don't now what to say, Cas. I don't deserve that. I made some pretty frickin' huge mistakes, ya know?. "
"Yes, mistakes were made by you and by Dean. No one deserves forgiveness and absolution, for all fall short, including myself when I doubted that He cared. But, it is God's grace and His love for His children that makes it possible."
"Will we remember when we get back?" Dean asked as he joined them, hearing what had been said between the angel and his brother.
"No. But you will both be stronger in your fraternal bonds after this."
Sam smiled and turned to Dean who was grinning back at him. "Sounds good enough to me." Dean said with a wink.
Both brothers turned to look back at Cas, but neither one of the was really surprised to see that he had vanished.
"Well, at least he knows how to make an exit." Dean quipped. He clapped Sam on his shoulder. "C'mon, there's a box full of fireworks just sitting over there, we might as well light 'em up."
Minutes later, firecrackers burst and bottle rockets lit up the sky. Sam had forgotten how much this night had meant to him and he reveled in the sheer joy of it all, watching the sparks flash and explode.
Dean was smiling ear-to-ear, God he had missed this time of their lives. Sam, young and innocent, wide-eyed to the world, untouched by the evil that tried so hard to shatter them. This truly was their own private fourth of July, their day of independence, their victory over the destinies heaven and hell had laid before them.
They were free.
The End
