#were lucifer and sam both trapped in sam’s body in the cage? separated when it was taken out?

[ladylilithprime]

53+66 Casaraph? (Maybe with a side of 93?)

53. Mutual Pining

66. It’s Not You, It’s My Enemies  

934. Hair Brushing/Braiding

Sequel to Stand and Deliver

THERE WAS NOT enough booze in the world to make Sam Winchester be able to forget Hell once the wall around his memories broke. While he had never once doubted the level of trauma that Dean carried from spending four months (forty years) down in the Pits, three on the racks and one under Alistair's tutelage, it had never really sunk in what that meant.

And then a man in a black Italian suit with a disdainful sneer had found the brothers at a rest stop in Oklahoma and touched two fingers to Sam's forehead and the world had shifted on its axis as Sam's definitions of "pain" and "eternal torment" were forcibly redefined.

The good news, Dean said, was that Sam had only been down in the Cage for a little over a week before he got pulled out. The bad news, which Sam refused to tell his brother, was that time spent in the Cage wasn't the same time dilation of ten years to a month as the Pits-- it was more like a century to a day, meaning Sam had been at the limited mercy of Michael and nonexistent mercy of Lucifer for just over a thousand subjective years.

The human mind, Sam knew from one of his long-distant psychology courses at Stanford, was not equipped to handle having memories for anywhere near that long, barely managing sixty to eighty years before things started to blur together with less and less coherency. Whatever barrier had been placed in Sam's mind to protect him from those memories, flimsy as it was in the face of indistinct nightmares he never fully recalled upon waking, it had still kept him blessedly sane and allowed him to function for six months topside before it was broken and everything surged to the fore all at once.

It became readily apparent in those unblocked memories that one thing Lucifer and Michael could agree on was that Sam was the cause of their imprisonment if not all their troubles. He forgot how to speak English for a while, trapped in a section of memories where, in a rare act of cooperation, Lucifer and Michael together had "taught" him Enochian. (He briefly recalled a moment of being glad that Michael seemed to prefer to use Adam as an on-tap battery rather than releasing him as Lucifer had done to Sam so that his little brother wouldn't be subjected to the same treatment before the pain and harsh drills made him forget who Adam was.) He had tried to hold onto his memories of his life by singing Hey Jude for a while before Lucifer cut out his tongue and then carved out his vocal chords for good measure to make him stop, and he didn't try again after he had healed.

That had been before Lucifer had gotten bored with purely physical tortures and ripped Sam out of his body. Ironically, that had been the moment that Michael hesitated, seeing Sam's soul without the shroud of his (demon blood tainted) body, and had begun to argue again. This did Sam precious little good, because he was still separate from his body and so both body and soul were subjected to the spillover of Archangelic battle in a confined space meant to house only one of them. Michael was stronger with Adam's soul to bolster him, but Lucifer was infinitely more creative and depraved, and Michael often had to retreat to heal and recover which allowed Lucifer to turn his renewed frustration and anger on Sam once more.

"Sam?"

He knew that voice, though he couldn't remember how. It wasn't Dean, because Dean hadn't spoken to him since his angry yelling when Sam stopped being able to respond in English to him.

"Oh, Sam... what did Bartholomew do to you?"

The voice was nice, really. Sam couldn't see past the blur and blinding from the latest flare up of Hellfire in his blood, but the voice felt calming, cool without being the icy cold of Lucifer's Grace that burned worse than Michael's fire. The Grace that touched him felt cool as well, like the distant memory of water, but even that gentle touch scraped harshly over his flayed raw soul and his throat ached when he whimpered involuntarily. How much had he been screaming?

"Well? Can you fix him?"

That was Dean, gruff and impatient, hiding fear behind anger. He really wasn't all that much like Michael as far as Sam could tell, but then Sam's experience with Michael was rather limited in scope if not time.

"I'm sorry, Dean. This is far beyond my ability to fix. It may even be beyond the abilities of the Rit Zien. He will need the aid of Raphael."

The calming voice sounded so sad. Sam wanted to reassure the owner of the voice, to tell them that whatever was wrong would eventually be okay, but he could barely focus enough to hold himself mostly still so as not to injure his physical body with the thrashing of his soul attempting to evade a pain that clung to him too tightly to escape.

"Raphael. The douche that exploded you that time who we trapped in holy fire?"

"....Indeed."

"Son of a bitch!"

Oh, Dean was angry again. That wasn't good. Sam tried to keep himself still even as his body fought the conflicting desires to run and to hide, only too aware with that hazy part of him not consumed in agony that he was in no shape to do either, even if nothing was physically wrong with him beyond his whole being. At least now he had a better idea of who the calming voice and gentle water Grace belonged to, even if it was hard to make the connection in his current state.

"Thought you two were fighting a civil war up there."

"We are. That does not mean that we are necessarily fighting each other. The situation is... complicated."

"Will he help?"

"If I can get a secure message through to them... yes. Normally I would suggest prayer as the most direct and uninterceptable method, but I would not subject Raphael to what you call prayers, and Sam...."

Well, that was something.

Archangel Raphael, beloved Healer of Heaven, to thee I pray, Sam recited mentally around the lancing stabs of pain from remembered punishments whenever Sam had forgotten himself in the Cage and dared to pray to anyone but Lucifer. Bartholomew has attacked and broken the barrier that kept my memories of Hell at bay. Castiel believes you are the only one who can help me, and that you will if only a secure message can reach you. I don't know if you're even willing to hear a prayer from me, but Castiel is right to be wary of asking my brother to pray....

There was a rush of displaced air and the flutter of massive wings, followed quickly by a shout from Dean and the cocking of a gun.

"Dean, stop! This is Raphael!"

"Thought you had to get a secure message to him... her... whatever!"

Apparently Raphael had changed vessels since the last time Dean had seen the Archangel.

"Sam prayed to me. Bartholomew did this?"

"So it appears. Sam prayed to you?"

"Yes. Quite remarkable. I know not of any others who would have the strength and cognisance to do so while in such a state."

"You gonna do anything about that state he's in besides stare at him?"

Hoo boy... One of these days Dean would hopefully learn not to be beligerent and antagonistic towards super powerful beings whose help he wanted. Personally, Sam blamed their Dad for insisting that anything not human was a monster. Even if angels as a whole weren't like Pastor Jim had always told them, it just felt like a sensible precaution to be polite to the beings that could smite you out of existence.

"If you will refrain from shooting at me."

"I will take him elsewhere if I find that he cannot behave himself."

While Sam was distracted trying to figure out how to laugh at that comment without either moving or breathing, another brush of foreign Grace reached out to him in conjunction with a gentle touch to the top of his head. This Grace felt like gale force winds, gentling almost immediately to barely a soft spring breeze when he not-flinched from the contact. He felt it as that breeze swept through every part of him, finding every damaged cell and literally breathing new life into them before sweeping inward to the ragged filaments of his ragged and tattered soul.

Oh, Samuel... Please believe that the cruelties visited upon you by my brothers were wholly undeserved.

Well, I did trap them both in the Cage together so they wouldn't destroy the Earth and humanity...

You did. And I find that I cannot fault you for it. Let go, Samuel. You need not carry this pain any longer.

I don't want to forget...

It is not the knowledge I ask you to release, dear one. Only the anguish through which it was imparted.

How?

Like this....

Later, when he had the time and space from his hovering brother to really think about this moment and what Raphael was showing him, Sam would be both awed and incredulous at the way the Archangel peeled away layers of malignant energy and remnant corrupted Grace from the flayed filaments of his soul with more precision than any human surgeon could have managed and then patiently guided Sam through the process of reweaving those soul filaments into a more cohesive and ordered whole that stretched out tiny tendrils to each newly healed cell and more fully connected his soul and body into one symbiotic unit. At a thought, Raphael directed Sam's attention to the remnant blocks within his mind laid down by first Azazel and then Ruby with their blood and cleared them away, then helped him build up better walls of his own without any foreign elements in their structure to cause weaknesses. When both Sam and Raphael were satisfied that Sam's body, mind and soul were all wholly his own again, Sam felt Raphael withdraw their Grace and remove their hand from his head.

A breath in. No pain. Sam opened his eyes and looked up into glittering dark topaz eyes that still held the faintest glow of Grace. "Thank you."

"You are most welcome, Samuel," Raphael murmured, rocking back on their heels, and stood, giving Sam an excellent view of their current vessel's shapely legs and soft curves beneath the sensible skirt suit. A slender hand reached out to him, palm up, and he tried not to blush as he accepted the hand up.

"Guess Dean couldn't behave himself after all," he mumbled, glancing around the interior of Rufus's cabin and finding a distinct lack of both Dean and Castiel.

"Castiel suggested that if Dean required an outlet for his energy then perhaps he should acquire suitable food for you to eat once healed," Raphael explained, lips twitching up at the corners when Sam's stomach obligingly rumbled in hunger. "He declined Castiel's offer of transport, insisting on utilizing your vehicle to go into town and that Castiel come with him anyway."

"Dean finds angelic flight to be... discomfiting," Sam explained, a bit sheepishly. "Probably psychosomatic given how much he hates flying in airplanes."

"Perhaps," Raphael agreed. Then they sighed, expression turning regretful. "I will need to depart before they return. While heinous and unwarranted, Bartholomew's attack on you has provided me with the opportunity to come and tend to you as I meant to when you were first raised from the Cage, but also provided a potential avenue of investigation for the root of the continued corruption in the Host."

The Archangel looked genuinely upset at not being able to stay long enough to see Dean and Castiel return, and Sam was quite sure it wasn't Dean they wanted to see again. "War sure makes a mess out of personal relationships sometimes, huh?"

"Indeed," Raphael said. "I will be most relieved when Heaven is truly at peace once more."

"If you ever need a break, feel free to come back down to visit," Sam offered, adding casually, "And if Cas happens to need a break around the same time, well, we can just call this place neutral territory, yeah?"

"Devious," Raphael pronounced with a smirk that still managed to look pleased. "I shall keep your offer in mind. Likewise, should you be attacked again or otherwise have need of me, do not hesitate to pray. I assure you that I will always choose to hear your prayers."

They reached up and touched Sam's cheek - no flare of Grace, just a light caress - and then, in a flare and flutter of wings, they were gone, leaving Sam alone to wait for Dean and Castiel to return with food so Sam could let them know about the offer he had made.

He had a feeling that Castiel would be making more time and excuses to visit in the future.

[eucharistsamruby]

does sam’s soul in the cage realize when his body is rescued? does the feeling of the torture change, and if it does is it clear to sam that is the reason why? does he just assume that the change comes with time? does he see castiel come for his body and leave his soul behind, losing the last bit of hope he had of ever being free? when dean reminds him that pain feels different in hell, maybe there are moments where he remembers being a body instead of just a soul and thinks “sometimes it doesn’t feel different”

[thegeminisage]

i know it’s really weird to say without context “the devil’s half-human kid” jack so let me add some context to this. this was originally going to be a post about season 13′s opening but there’s too much explanation involved so we have to recap the end of s12 first (non non-mary parts, which, frankly, every piece of television ever written is inferior to the mary parts of supernatural)

so to recap:

during season 12, during the non-mary parts that weren’t important and again don’t really matter, lucifer, who escaped hell’s cage in season 11, decides to have himself a kid with a human woman to create an archangel’s nephilim, which would be more power than any being that ever existed besides god. he also possessed the president to do this but that’s horrible writing and UTTERLY besides the point. i am focusing on the good parts here

the woman lucifer impregnated (her name is kelly kline) tries to kill herself in order to the baby bc hello it’s the antichrist

(they did rip off this whole antichrist thing from @cambionverse​ they were READING OUR FIC i know only 12 people have read our fic but i know this in my heart. sorry anyway)

but ANYWAY then the unborn baby SAVES HER LIFE by healing her wounds and she realizes there might be good in the child after all and that he might be able to help her

this sounds like pro-life propaganda but i was actually a big fan of their execution on this - til now she had basically been used as a human incubator with no agency at all, and suddenly she has the world’s most unexpected ally in this unborn kid who didn’t ask to be here anymore than she did

so together kelly and her unborn child manage to escape the demons and run into castiel, who had been looking for lucifer’s baby mama in order to uh. take care of that whole situation. and when the bad guys catch up to them the kid decides he likes cas, cas is good people, and he lets him borrow a little power (angels all got nerfed back in s9) to smoke the holy hell out of them. and cas also realizes this kid is Good, or has the potential to be good, and he decides to run off with kelly to protect her from both lucifer and his demons and also the winchesters who are UH ALSO LOOKING TO TAKE CARE OF THAT WHOLE SITUATION

dean is PISSED at cas and he thinks the baby is brainwashing cas and kelly both and is only acting to protect its own life and that it’s definitely going to be evil and kill everyone. if you heard about dean and cas almost getting divorced in season 12, this is why. it’s like. peak d*stiel content imo. also this is after cas’s no-homo “i love you......all”

anyway the baby has a bunch of omens happening to herald his birth, like storms and shit, and one such omen is that he tears a rip in the fabric of space-time, opening a portal to a world where john was never brought back to life and mary never had kids and so they could never save the world from the apocalypse in s5. this is important to mention for later

so the winchesters and lucifer catch up to cas and kelly at the same time, right as she’s having her baby. the birth kills her because lol classic sexist horror trope, but in the fight, castiel gets killed (shanked by lucifer right in front of dean’s eyes), and while mary DOES get to punch the devil in the face, she winds up jumping through the portal with lucifer into this alternate dimension right as it closes, trapping them both there

so the season ends with the baby being born, and cas’s body getting cold on the ground, mary and lucifer GONE, and sam has to leave dean alone with cas to go upstairs and check on the antichrist. pan to EXTREMELY ominous glowing eyes, cut to black, credits. that’s the season

and then the season 13 trailer looks like this:

TELL ME this doesn’t look like classic spn and scary as shit. you can’t. this is such a fucking sexy trailer. like, the big question of that particular part of season 12 is: is this kid gonna be dangerous? is he gonna fucking kill us? we are dealing with the antichrist here!

and then we go into season 13 with dean on the brink of despair, half his family dead, and sam and dean dealing with this antichrist kid all alone and uuugh i’m going to make a separate post this has gotten too long but listen to me. look me in the eyes. it’s good. no one believes me but it’s good

[lovedsammy]

lightning field [commission for @samwinchesterlesbian]

Final commission for @samwinchesterlesbian! This one was a request for Sam and Michael, with Sam’s thoughts on working with Michael in 15.08. I rewatched those scenes multiple times to get a gauge on Sam’s reactions to him, and came to the conclusion that Michael didn’t directly torture Sam, but was a passive participant. Seeing him and interacting him would still be painful and terrible for Sam, though, not just because of the associations, but because I really don’t think that Michael offered him help, either. 

Hope you enjoy!

-

A foray into the furthest depths of Hell was not exactly Sam’s idea of a fun time, but once again, it was proving to be necessary. Fortunately, he at least had Dean and Cas at his side this time and not just Crowley and Rowena. Not that either of them had been bad company, necessarily, in hindsight - they’d proven themselves to be allies later, all things considered. But it was always best when he had his brother and Castiel with him. They were the only people that he trusted most in the world. They’d have his back, and he’d have theirs. The current situation wasn't exactly the same as it had been back then, either. 

They were seeking out Michael now, not Lucifer. 

Sam shudders a little at the memory of traveling these halls, lured by the Devil, his only weapon his absolute faith clutched to his chest. He’d clung to it like a lifeline, that faith, and well -- it hadn’t come to fruition. It’d been a lie. A misconception. A trick. Not just by Lucifer, but by God, too. His faith had just been an empty cast, searching the water for something that wasn’t there. In the end, it was Sam who’d been the bait and Lucifer the self-assured caster, able to manipulate Sam into the very place he wanted him.  

The three of them continue to walk in companionable silence, but it’s not uncomfortable. Rather, Sam feels a little more at ease in the quiet, looking around the various corridors and levels as they descend further. Everything about Hell now was still so reminiscent of the Crowley era and the last time he’d been down here. If he never saw this place again, it’d only be too soon. Getting Michael’s help was probably a long shot, he knew. But it was a chance that they needed to take above all others. Because their enemy was the highest above all others, God himself. And if there was anyone left that could contend with that much power, it’d be Michael. All they had to do was convince him. 

But convincing Micheal to fight against his father was going to be difficult. Michael had an unshakable faith in him, and in his father’s plan. It’d been that faith that had led him here in the first place, trapped in the cage that had only been meant for Lucifer. Sam didn’t really think that kind of faith, the belief of a son in his father, could be shaken so easily. In all honesty, he wasn’t exactly jumping for joy at the idea of seeing the Archangel again, either. While Michael hadn’t been Lucifer, he hadn’t really opposed his brother’s treatment of Sam. He’d been an idle, passive watcher. He never got his hands dirty himself. He’d never participated in Sam’s torture physically. But he’d watched. 

And that, Sam hasn’t forgotten. 

-

When he first sees him in the guise of Adam, Sam’s body tenses and he swallows. He feels a lot of things - regret for what happened to Adam, hesitance and apprehension for standing in the presence of the being himself. For a moment, everything else melts away until it’s just him and Michael and the phantom visual of the Cage. He sees Michael’s detached expression, his indifferent eyes watching as Lucifer carves deeper into Sam’s stomach, taking pieces of flesh and bone. He watches Sam’s suffering without lending a single finger to help, to stop his brother, to offer Sam some kind - any kind - of reprieve. 

Michael’s stunned gaze moves from Sam to Dean, and it brings Sam back from the recollection.

He stands back while Cas and Dean handle him, making quick work of securing the Archangel in the angelic cuffs, and has to remember to breathe.  

-

“Even for you, especially for you, this is stupid.” Michael snarls, pacing restlessly back and forth, the desk in front of him the only barrier separating them from him. Less than ten feet away, Sam’s guard is up, shoulders tense. Being in the presence of an angry Archangel, even a restrained one, was proving to be more difficult than he’d thought. Michael’s chaotic anger was reminding Sam too well of the first moments they’d all landed in the Cage. How the painful force of the vengeful screams from both him and Lucifer had vibrated it down to its foundation. They’d probably made all of Hell tremble. And somewhere on Earth, there’d likely been an immeasurable earthquake. 

“Well, good to see you too,” Dean says dryly, sarcastically. “Mike.” 

Michael’s clearly not amused by the nickname, but forsakes responding to Dean. Instead, his sour gaze moves from the older Winchester to the younger. “Sam. You look well,” He says evenly, appraising him. “The last time I saw you in the cage...” 

“Yeah, it doesn’t matter,” Sam interjects quickly. He’s not looking to reminisce about it. He can feel Dean and Cas’s eyes on him, gauging his body language, making sure silently that he was all right. And with that comfort, he continues. “We need your help.”

Little by little, the apprehension fades. He’s still cautious, a little weary, but it becomes clear that this Michael was much more fair and open to suggestion in a way that the alternative world version of him hadn’t been. He could be reasoned with. The Michael who’d possessed his brother, and had tortured Jack and his mother, who’d teamed up with Lucifer and tried to kill all of them - he’d inspired fear in Sam. This Michael at least seemed to have an emotional investment in Adam, in protecting him, allowing him to take over his body in limited capacity. Lucifer had denied Sam that right altogether. Sam had to fight for control. As had Dean. As had Cas. 

Michael had sheltered Adam from the worst of not just the possession, but the worst of Hell, too. Sam can’t help but be a little resentful, a little bitter of the fact. It was no fault of Adam’s, of course. Thinking that was unfair to his younger brother, who hadn’t deserved to be dragged into this mess in the first place. But there was a cosmic irony of it all, of he and Dean being Michael and Lucifer’s precious true vessels and yet being treated so unfairly by the both of them. God really did view them as just pawns in this game he’d created. Chuck was an overgrown adult-child, and his angels and his demons and the humans were all his toys. It made Sam think of Michael and Lucifer as spoiled, unruly toddlers, and Sam and Dean were their play outfits, dressed in them so they could destroy their toy houses all they wanted.

And Michael had done it, trying to be the good son, the one who always followed his dad’s orders. In the scheme of things, Michael had been God’s puppet, too. 

So Sam tries. 

He tries to impart this to Michael, to make him understand, to come around to their side. He lets his guard down a little more, approaches him a little more closely. He doesn’t know if Michael ever really hears him, what he’s trying to say. He can only hope that, after some time, he does. 

He knows how it feels to lose faith in his father. 

And how it was to lose faith in God.

[naruhearts]

14x10: Dean Free Will Winchester, Destiel, TFW, and the Only Win

Originally posted by michaeldean

*trips over feet*

I still have no proper words re: the seamless interconnections of TFW/Dean/Emotional Arc-centric meta that most of the meta community has already yelled and written extensively about since S12. 14x10 was a META EXPLOSION, my friends. I had complete chills!! Yockey’s magnificent soup lent us years of Dean/TFW-characteristic meta narratively realized like some colourful picnic basket of psychology.

I’m sure I missed some awesome stuff considering I haven’t rewatched it yet, but for now, here’s my semi-coherent first-impression thoughts (some of which I copy-pasted from twitter) under the cut!!

On the other hand, if you don’t want to read this massive post, it can be succinctly summarized in one phrase:

Originally posted by @intelligentshipper

Dean is the cage. Man, yes I know, the NARRATIVE WEIGHT AND SYMBOLISM OF DEAN LOCKING HIMSELF UP; Dean’s possibly in “physically rough shape” (translation: emotionally rough shape) inside the cage he built for himself. As the Master of Repression and Locking Up Emotions, this unhealthy psychological mechanism in this case becomes his controlled strength against the core of his trauma and everything Michael represents *points at Dean meta* therein lies the beautiful paradox of the human condition. Dean Humanity Winchester is the poster boy for it. It’s all led to this! Don’t you love when our characters undergo self-translation from unwanted/coerced destiny to chosen role (after Michael manipulated Dean’s freely given “Yes”. And recall the same key theme with Sam occupying the position of Gatekeeper to Hell re: Lucifer trauma in 14x01)? 

x

14x10 in itself offsets the rest of what we’re gonna see characteristically as per TFW’s individual narrative journeys (and Destiel arc; we’ve observed the continuation of Dean and Cas role reversals as per usual, with Mind!Pamela and Father Figure Michael serving as heavy-hitter Casifer-reminiscent exposition). “Nihilism” and “Damaged Goods” paired through subversion, where Dean going on a ‘suicide’ mission via imprisoning himself with Michael isn’t done out of SOLE low self-worth (don’t get me wrong, he still hasn’t fully emancipated himself yet) but mostly 50% low self-worth and 50% martyrdom for his loved ones. Toxic codependency is no longer the basis of Dean’s self-sacrificial choices, but LOVE AND…LOVE. However, Dean still assumes he deserves to imprison himself. Michael capitalizes on Dean’s depressive trauma and low self-worth in that his conditioning since childhood to internalize self-blame for Sam and Cas’ problems - the world’s problems - works in the Archangel’s favour. He both projects Dean’s fears onto Sam and Cas then breeds their self-doubt by framing them as lacking genuine altruistic value to Dean and hitting TFW where it hurts altogether. A double-double coffee of anguish. 

Here we come back to Michael’s overarching role this season as the Harbinger of Truth (as I wrote about when the season first began x x) 

Michael!Dean assumes he knows what people want, and yes, maybe in some respects he does in fact know, but I mentioned that he distorts a person’s sense of “worthiness to be saved” (oh, I wonder where I heard that previously) by exploiting their self-hate/respective mental uncertainty of their wants vs needs.

That’s the GOLD about Michael’s role: he’ll be uncovering an entire interpersonal discourse on the characters figuring out (and using their damn communicative skills to accentuate) what they WANT vs. NEED. Again, clarification of truths. 

In 14x10, we were largely reminded of Michael and his intrinsic link to S14′s themes and TFW (copy-pasted from my 14x01 review meta; meta builds and builds on itself!):

WHAT DO YOU WANT, A New Beginning (a New World Order, a Better World in Michael’s case reminiscent of S6/7 like I expected. Michael is the absolute antithetical figure to Dean Humanity Winchester, who is blinded by authoritarianism), Love Is Weakness (Love is also STRENGTH, and different kinds of love exist, where we see more singular vs plural dialogue e.g. Cas’ “You have me. You have all of us”) and Family Is Unity.The fact that Michael is the one asking people what they want, specifically directing it to Anael the Destiel/Cas mirror (which she was in 13x13), bodes VERY well for me. He’s going to hold a key overarching position in the clarification of truths and Want Vs Need for TFW with significant flavours of past Eldritch Expositional Big Bads like Amara. Anael is feeling a lack of kinship. She desires belonging. A home. And it’s all very human of her. Because of this emotionality, Anael has FALLEN.

What is your truth? Confront your truth. Accept what you see in the mirror (like I was saying the other day) and glue that broken reflection back together into something empowering. Honest. Genuine. Self-actualizing. And considering Dean is imprisoned within his own body (confinement/imprisonment was again tangible across the episode both plot, visual, and characteristic-wise where TFW, impacted by Dean the Heart Hero’s absence, left a gloomy sense of detachment, helplessness, expendability, and failure internalization) and considering Dean is no doubt hearing Michael reiterate this main thematic question has me buzzing with the joys of self-introspection!!

What do you want, Dean Winchester? What do you want, Cas? What does everyone want?

**Michael additionally gauges the purity of potential recruits for his Supermonster army via hunger. What are you hungry for? What do you crave? Seemingly calls back to S5 Famine and the emptiness derived from losing something alongside experiencing trauma. And when Michael offers you the misleading opportunity, will you take it? Are you worthy? Michael distorts worthiness (Dean’s worthiness; indeed, Dean fills the episode’s negative spaces) by exploiting self-hate. Cas enhances (Dean’s) worthiness by providing freedom.

The “turning point” between Dean and Cas in 12 may actually be Dean saying goodbye (then perhaps finding out about Cas’ deal; we shall see). This could call back to 11x23, where Dean was also surrounded by his family pre-sacrifice. Dean thinking he needs to “die” - to lock himself up - in order for them to win may segue into TFW “wishing” things were different, thus somehow inducing John’s return (and possibly Chuck’s re: Daddy Issues) in 14x13.

Dean wasn’t left alone at the end of the episode. His family - Sam and Cas - were there with him as the wonderful antithesis re: Michael isolating Dean. Separating family ends up unifying family, BUT like I said above, he was still able to hit them where it hurt. Michael the Manipulator used words to twist their thoughts into self-doubt - sow self-discord, yet TFW worked as a unit to strike back. Lessons learned: stronger together, weaker apart.

x

Sam and Cas occupying the dark Empty-parallel space in Dean’s mind. His MIND was an EXPOSÉ. ALL THE TRAUMA, and it’s incredibly significant that we observed Cas scanning Dean’s traumatic memories (obviously he’s an angel, but the meta undercurrents of this killed me). Cas has now actually seen/felt/heard Dean’s trauma, anguish, and long-running depression instead of Dean using his words to tell him about such trauma; it’s ingenious storytelling, not to mention Sam introspecting over Dean’s own trauma in order to find him was SUPER uplifting and META ironic --> Finding Dean involves happiness. Most importantly, Cas was witness to Dean’s low self-worth, negative self-process, failure internalization, and fear of the future without blinking, yet he also displayed total worry, compassion, and barely concealed panic - as if he couldn’t bear to think about the multilayered traumatic prison that Michael trapped Dean within. Sam said “Dean is strong.” Cas replies that Dean is “more than strong.” To Cas, Dean’s strength of mind, body, and soul shines, and this is why he’s in love with this man - his charge. He loves him in the face of his trauma and past mistakes. Once I have time, I should discuss the memories we heard, but of course they involve his time in Hell (and his S3 mirror telling him he will become a demon. Moc/Demon!Dean callbacks). 

CAS: So much. So much trauma in Dean’s mind. There’s so many scars.

SAM: Well yeah. Dean’s been through a lot, but he’s strong.

CAS: Sam...you’ve both been through a lot, and Dean is more than strong [...] Because Michael has Dean trapped away - drowning - I have to wade through Dean’s most terrible memories.

SAM: Would Michael bury Dean in trauma? Michael said it himself. The reason he left Dean in the first place was because Dean was fighting back so hard. 

CAS: So if Michael wanted to keep Dean placated--

SAM: Dean thrives on trauma. He’s had to his whole life. It keeps him alert -- keeps him ready. But if I wanted to distract Dean, I’d give him something he’s never had before.

CAS: Contentment. 

x

(**Sam’s right, but he’s also wrong. Dean “thrived” on trauma because he had to as the consequence of a misguided John-imbued childhood, where he mostly skipped over the innocent era of being a healthily developing child and became an adult overnight: father, mother, and brother rolled into one. A good little soldier, and he created various masks of performativity in response to trauma. Multiple tiny seeds of self-doubt grew into worthless that then bred emotional misarticulation, repression, and psychological instability. x)

14x10 majorly ties into SPN’s season-long storytelling commentary on TFW’s perception of Happiness and the overarching themes of Happiness vs Sadness. Cas stated to Jack how The Life™ rarely gives oneself happiness last episode. Ultimately, can you believe Dean’s accrued trauma has been textualized like this?! 

Michael knows that Dean has never been happy. 

Dean never lets himself have what he wants to have nor be who he wants to be. He is entrapped by fearing real happiness, and his trauma holds him back from achieving what he wants - continues to make him believe that he doesn’t deserve to be content.

And Dean certainly wants Cas. He is fully cognizant and self-aware of this fact. Narratively reconsolidated in musical exposition by the Marshall Tucker Band’s “Searchin’ for a Rainbow”, Dean searches for the rainbow endlessly, but he’s uncertain…afraid of the wind’s flow (and his internalization of low self-worth remains –> he believes “all good things come to an end”. Temporary contentment, where he’s undeserving of such good things as epitomized by real estate woman who wants to infringe on Dean’s property/dream; ‘sell it out’ literally and figuratively).

Either Dean will find his pot of gold waiting for him, or he won’t, and this is the underlying star-crossed literary beauty of the D/C narrative.

Dean’s sick of pretending. He WANTS the wind to show him the way, but we must remember that, in an episode rich with the concept of authorial authority - writing your own fate and ever-glaring Free Will - he NEEDS to blow the wind himself. If he just allows himself to believe that he can have true happiness, then he will.

*I SCREAM, YOU SCREAM, WE ALL SCREAM FOR META-INTROSPECTION!* 

Michael’s “I Am You” —> Dean knows he is Michael - the reflection who embodies all the dark parts of himself, just like Dark!Kaia underlined - but he also knows he isn’t Michael, and Dean will use it to his advantage. Dean has what Michael lacks: FAMILY. x

“EVEN GOD CAN DIE.” This cracks open so many parental absenteeism eggs. Cas’ conversation with Michael over Chuck, the ultimate deadbeat absent father figure, was simply an outlet for Michael to attribute his self-righteously immoral actions to his fatherly abandonment. Bitterness. And Cas, more humanized than ever, is aware of Michael’s shortcoming: “confusing loyalty and compassion with weakness”, thus these perceived “weaknesses” are foils to Michael’s preference for isolation, solitude, mercilessness, betrayal, and hatred.

 MICHAEL: Playing nursemaid to a nephilim. Nothing like the Castiel I knew. He would’ve never been so...anemic. 

Loyalty and compassion are human traits - despised by most angels such as Naomi and Ishim; belittled by Michael - that Cas recognizes and practices. *human!Cas feelings* He has evolved, and as I said in my 14x01 Cas meta: 

Earth [is] the true home of Cas the Fish, which bridges his intrinsically human emotionality/disposition as an ex-Angel of The Lord to his sense of belonging. Growing legs to replace fins. Evolution of character. And Dean Winchester, right from their point of contact in Perdition, was the driving spark for his evolution.

“It’s all you,” Dean says to his reflection in the mirror, a repeated mantra, as Michael tries to break out of Dean’s mind, bringing my pre-14x01 meta of MIRRORS to light!! Dean confronted the reflection of himself that he has always hated, where the deep-seated worthlessness that he must eliminate is buried with Michael -- the narrative embodiment of Dean’s toxic shackles: predeterminism, Brodependency, parental absenteeism, repression, toxic misemotionality, and blunt tool expendability as his father’s hammer and society’s hammer. I adore Dean’s consistent self-awareness over the seasons as he learns to differentiate what he can and cannot control. And Michael is jailed inside a FRIDGE *light bulb explodes* It’s time to achieve self-actualization. Sure progress.

DEAN’S “ROCKY’S BAR” EASTER EGGS, MIND!PAMELA BARNES AND DESTIEL

Rocky’s Bar (Rocky & Bullwinkle & Friends!!) was an EASTER EGG meta dream set by Wanek, with thematic colours of blue (depression, loneliness, and isolation -- blue is immediately evoked as soon as Dean starts gaining self-awareness of his past trauma-laden life and remembers the real Pamela), dim reds and somber yellows. GOOD STUFF!!

@intelligentshipper​ wrote/gathered superb colour meta on this consistent palette of Self + Depression this season - RED || BLUE & YELLOW || I’ve also briefly touched upon the recurring hues that we saw in another hardcore meta episode: Scoobynatural 13x16.

Hello bisexual colours (pink, purple, blue in this setting; observe the metaphor of this very moment - Repressive Toxic Past/Paternal Figure Michael wrestling for dominance over Dean. We live in a meta world.)

Without sounding redundant, here’s the list of Easter Eggs by sasquatchandleatherjackets/mittensmorgul. 14x10 bursts with so much symbolism that it warrants >2 rewatches!

SEARCHIN’ FOR A RAINBOW by the Marshall Tucker Band playing in Dean’s bar (see above):

I rode into town today In my mind, I said 'Lord I'd like to stay' Something in me said boy, move on Don't know what it is the good lord bred it in my bones

And I'm searchin for a rainbow, and if the wind ever shows me where to go, you'd be waiting at the end and I know, I'd see the hill with that pot of gold.

This old mount I'm ridin', she's gettin' kinda' tired But in my heart she knows there's this one desire She's gonna' take me to the end of our road

One of my favourites: the Daphne Loves Fred carved on the bar counter!! Fred, who represented Dean’s healthy masculinity -- was loved by Daphne, the dual counterpart of Dean’s non-repression: the side of him that adores wearing pink nightgown dresses, pink satin panties, vegetable water, romcoms and romance novels...the side of him that adores and embodies everything defined as “feminine” within a heternormative patriarchy. Reiterating past meta, Daphne also symbolized the traditional poster woman he should be attracted to, but never truly obtains for himself. Why? Because his true desires break tradition, and Dean’s subconscious knows this. They break his harrowing past of repression and psychological toxicity. They throw away what John Winchester wanted for him. x

 And in this--

FB = Winchester “Family Business” = Jensen’s Family Business Beer Co, with FOX RYE and (phallic-shaped) COSMIC COWBOY as FBBC drinks (and the latter evoking 13x06 Space Cowboy and Cowboy!Cas. This episode, guys. WOW.) 

Moving onto Michael’s subtextually telling construct of Pamela Barnes --

x

Mind!Pamela, well, she blew MY mind! @thetwistedwillow already describes amazing crucial points here. And let me provide commentary on the riveting and pertinent subtextual D/C double whammy of their office scene together:

DEAN: How come you always have a boyfriend?

PAMELA: How come you only want what you can’t have? You don’t want me -- you just like to flirt. Besides, I’m a psychic, so I kinda know.

DEAN: All right.

Mind!Pamela asking Dean why he only wants what he can’t have, linked to Pamela having a boyfriend, establishes romantic connotations. Pamela was D/C exposition.

There’s truth in jokes. Pamela's lines to Dean could be construed as genuine interest, but Yockey actually shot that down via Pamela confirming that the flirting is just for fun, with Dean not actually wanting her, and it nudges at the Destiel context. To me, if you move this outside the D/C context, it would make no sense, because the real Pamela did kiss Dean. They had a passing attraction to each other. Why not have them kiss again, then? Well, Pamela encapsulated both Dean’s subconscious psyche and Michael’s mouthpiece. And by Freudian design, both Dean and Michael know who he truly wants. 

Cas is once again ensconced in the negative spaces.

Keeping in mind that Michael has seen Dean’s memories and feelings via possessing him, Michael’s construct of Pamela in the bar setting was, in certain respects, his unsaid Empty-parallel statement: “I know who you love - what you fear.”

Dean wants what he can’t have. He still thinks he doesn’t deserve Cas, and indeed, in his heart of hearts - in the deepest crevices of his being - Michael knows (like most Expositional Eldritch Villains do e.g. S11 Amara) who he loves and what he fears (manipulating Dean’s fears into snake-tongued attacks on Sam and Cas; those statements aren’t true, but human beings are contradictory, and Dean thinking such things about them long ago can still plant self-doubt today, but TFW are strong, and it’s all about conquering negative self-process to come out on the other side unscathed. I mean oh boy, we thought Lucifer was the prime expert on manipulation. Michael’s just as bad as his brother, if not worse.)

Dean is in love with the angel “who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition” (spot-on impersonation by Jensen) and Michael knowing the exact words then punches me in the feels because it’s a profound line...the iconic line verbalized by Cas to Dean in 4x10 Lazarus Rising that offset their love story later on. It’s the prime beginning.

x

To me, Michael hereby implies that he saw Dean’s memory of the first time he set his eyes upon Cas, and that it’s a highly valued memory which caused Michael to taunt it in the first place.

Like others have already pointed out as well, Dean’s memory of Pamela shows True!Form Cas blinding her in 4x01, and that certain memory, on an intriguing note, successfully breaks Dean out of the dream construct.

Since I don’t want to subject my readers to longer rambling, more of my meta on Pamela Barnes, Destiel, and the 13x06 Tombstone M/F Destiel-coded cowboy cutouts in Dean’s Mind Bar can be found here (with some repeated points that you’ve read throughout this post): http://naruhearts.tumblr.com/post/182144879031/14x10-destiel-cowboys-and-pamela-barnes

- - - - 

TL;DR sign me up for the necessary pain!! All the TFW storytelling threads of the last few seasons consistently pushing SPN’s primary themes of Family, Unity, Love and…Love, New Beginnings, Self-Actualization and, of course, mental/emotional CATHARSIS from the old toxic past, will come together. 

On another Destiel-adjacent note: Dean and Cas, their narratives running parallel to each other like they always have (especially since S12), are making the toughest, selfless, and sacrificial choices to save their loved ones (via Michael and Empty) and achieve the greatest win of all: living, hoping, and trusting interdependently.

And then Sam -- additionally making an impossible non-toxic codependent decision that I definitely believe is him giving Dean the go-ahead for self-imprisonment -- will encounter John in Endverse-adjacent AU!AU. *rubs hands together* CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT AHEAD.

DEAN’S CAGE/SARCOPHAGUS, 14x11 PROMO, AND FREE WILL

(Screenshot by me from my TV lol)

Obviously we saw very little of 14x11. But I saw enough to flail over it!! 

Dean built a coffin - a sarcophagus for himself. A Pandora’s Box, as coined by @thetwistedwillow who also screamed with me in terms of the heartbreaking circular narrative of Dean’s S14 ‘burial’: simultaneously punishing himself and protecting the world from his failures --> the dual subtext of Dean’s return to ashes that naturally leads to resurrection. Lazarus Rising to Lazarus Dying. 

x

Aka Dean imprisoning himself via isolation on his own free will and ultimately subverting Michael’s efforts to imprison Dean via coercion and possession.

I can’t even believe the sheer metaphorical symbolism of this!! CLOSET!BOX. Seriously. Again, years of Dean meta (and queer Dean meta) roped together in an angsty paradoxical basket by Yockey and co.

For Dean to emancipate himself—and save his loved ones + the world—he’s gotta imprison himself with the current source of his trauma (Michael) as well as deconstruct and deal with all the other remaining trauma he bottled up. Lazarus will rise again.

As Billie says, every single one of Dean’s endgame deaths were rewritten (this textualized TFW as the harbingers of their own destiny, where Dean himself “broke enough rules” to get his endgames rewritten!! I can’t tell you enough how gorgeous that is.), and they all end the same way, with Michael breaking free and using Dean to burn the world to the ground...EXCEPT FOR ONE.

(I had to) x

x

Guys, I’m burning with curiosity!! What endgame did Dean see? Utter shock was written across his face -- an intense disbelief and surprised demeanor, topped off with what seemed like tears in his eyes -- that gave me pause. 

DEAN: What am I supposed to do with this?

BILLIE: That’s up to you.

That’s up to you --> Anubis said: Death, the reapers, and even God have no say. All the rules? All the cosmic constraints? They’re just useless in itself. They pass away. There are no rules. TFW “broke the rules” over and over and over again because they can.

A person’s choices in life dictate their fate.

“It’s about the journey, not the destination.”

In 4x03 In The Beginning (this title, y’all - authors and stories!!), no matter what Dean did to try and kill Azazel so that the subsequent murders of Mary’s parents, John, and the penultimate deal to resurrect John at poor Sammy’s expense are avoided, Dean realized that he could not alter Mary’s choices. Azazel still ended up poisoning Sam with demon blood. He couldn't influence her endgame because she wrote it herself in conjunction with external parties Cupid and Heaven (huh, forced free will paradox). At the same time, Mary’s journey invokes the key subverted difference of the Dean/Cas vs Mary/John parallel narrative which is fundamentally important to remember -- Free Will vs Destiny. Chosen Love vs Fated Love. Mary freely operated on fate’s influence, while Dean and Cas’ first meeting proliferated into a love story no one has ever foreseen, where they both defied subservient expectations and destiny fulfillment. 

From the first point of contact, Dean and Cas seared their influence upon the other in the form of a profound brand. 

x

Dean and Cas can make their own choices -- and have done so -- outside of predetermined plans for them. Dean and Cas’ love in itself blossomed out of free choice. Through rough seas, high tides, bright beaches, and hellfire, their love proved impervious. It was impervious to Heaven, Hell, reapers, and any supernatural force we’ve observed that tried to split them apart over the course of the show.

Attempting to constrain (Love and...) love, the greatest and most powerful force in the universe, is impossible.

The Second Law of Thermodynamics: chaos in the universe, which is the ultimate isolated system, only increases and never decreases.

Cosmic constraints all boil down to, well, nothing. We write our own fates. Michael failed to understand this concept. Destiel/TFW weren’t “defying” rules but acting as human beings with inherent agency the whole time. They are the authors and actors of their lives. Heaven/Hell despised humanity’s free will, when God’s miracle was truly his “mistake”: his draft worlds and giving humans free will. The flawed drafts = the universe becoming increasingly more chaotic.

It’s futile to enforce constraints, labels, and norms. Dean is absolutely narratively framed as the prime Death. The death one encounters depends on one’s choices.

In sum, Dean must LET IT GO. Do what you want to do, not what you need to do, though they go hand-in-hand. Drawing upon the last few seasons pertaining to baptism of the Self and interpersonal relationships, this includes communication, transparency, and quality time together.

x

As I’ve said here regarding 14x07 and Jack’s mirror role: 

We had these wonderfully poignant moments pushing back Dean’s performance: exposing the core of his heart wrapped up in the walls of trauma, guilt, and crippled self-process. Dean sees his Free Self, who is waiting…encouraging him to let go and live life to the fullest.

His Free Self is starting to break the water’s surface — has been doing so this entire cathartic S14 narrative of looking in the mirror (actively hammered down in 14x04/5/6).

Dean’s realizing that yes, life may not be all these big, amazing moments. There’s numerous valleys of pain, horror and death. But there’s also numerous rivers of optimism and joy (hello to the river they visited in this episode. It pretty much re-consolidated SPN’s Rebirth/New Beginning themes carrying over from S12: a baptism of the self and interpersonal relations). Family and friendship. Faith and love. He simply needs to cast his line, catch the fish Cas, and pull it out of water for good aka make the dreams, wants, and desires reality.

As @thetwistedwillow pointed out, Dean’s initial offer to head out to a potential hookup bar was a foil for Jack the Non-Performative mirror of Dean: the wingman move winking at the old (DYING) remnants of his John-polished performativity and calling back to Dean bringing newly minted Cas to the brothel in Free to Be You and Me, in that the night took an unexpectedly not-salacious but sentimental turn. That night, Dean hasn’t laughed so hard in years, even with his own brother.

8 years later, Jack knew what Dean’s heart truly wanted. He felt it. Jack rejected the hookup offer precisely because — just last episode — he perceived Dean’s natural tune. It was casual sex, shacking up, and adios (yes postmodernmulticolouredcloak) no longer. It was romance and courting before dating, which involved emotional exploration and ding ding ding, spending time together (also both on the familial and romantic levels -> BEING THERE with Dean: the key gesture conveying that he deeply matters to you, and you matter to him). Jack wanted the same thing, too.

It all comes full circle. Free to be you and me indeed, since Dean’s almost free of John’s ghost, as a father, brother, and husband. We’ll be here to witness his complete emancipation.

14x10 textualized Free Will and the neverending stories of neverending stories of neverending stories: we can do what we want by formulating our own rules, and each individual has a moral compass influenced by their differing experiences.

Whatever Dean’s seen -- we don’t know what he saw, and we may not EVER know, and it’s literally pure conjecture at this point, but for the sake of meta speculation...legitimate HAPPINESS? His dream bar epitomized in real life but even better, where the realism of it involves not having to sell out ANYTHING nor sell out HIMSELF? Retirement? Dying from old age? Marrying Cas? The ACTUAL beach, toes in the sand, umbrella drinks, with matching Hawaiian shirts? General BAD things leading to good things? Yes, this is Supernatural, and as Cas put it in 14x09: no one can experience permanent happiness in The Life™ , but recall subversion. Death preceding Life - the natural cycle - persists. Dabb & Co have created an SPN narrative plethora of New Beginning cyclism for a while now, so of course I have no doubt that a positive endgame is in the cards -- whatever Dean’s read has stimulated Dean’s motives to build his sarcophagus. He thinks he has an idea of what to do to get to this endgame or (what I expect/hope is) Happy Death?

Heck, in the 14x10 context of Author God, writing drafts, and reaper books -- what if his ending is: 

TA-DA!

It’s up to Dean to write his own ending. He has a blank slate as Author of his life.

The possibility of this blank slate ending as a win at first glance seems to entail the worst kind of choice -- since we all know repressing your trauma and emotions aka locking yourself up breeds maladaptive unhealthiness in the long run -- but it’s an absolutely necessary choice. The final countdown before self-actualization.

I kept saying it last season and I’ll say it again --

Dean Depressed Winchester must “die” so that Dean Self-Actualized Winchester can live. Dean building Pandora’s Box - CLOSET!BOX - for himself is LITERALLY an amalgamation of ‘Deal with your Trauma & Self’.

He should open the closet of happiness, embody self-acceptance, and go after what makes him happy -- what makes him psychologically wholesome, for Cas himself, Dean’s narrative half, tells the truth of his root fears: 

x

Dean does deserve to be saved. He deserves happiness in all of its variant forms -- the eclectic rainbow of beach vacations, retirement, Rocky’s Bar, finding romantic love -- and he must try to believe it himself. His closet!box is the catalytic literal/metaphorical object for this chief realization. 

And to emphasize how important the burial is regarding Dean’s psychological progression, ta-da, my 13x20 Dean meta still applies today, primary themes carried over into S14 by Dabb & Co:

And what are Dean’s WINS (plural) by dying? Saving people instead of losing people–saving Mary, Jack, Sam, and Cas. Saving the world. Reuniting his family unit. Interacting instead of performing. OUTING INSTEAD OF HIDING. HIGH DEPRESSIONLESS SELF-WORTH INSTEAD OF LOW DEPRESSIVE SELF-WORTH.

Better yet, Dean will undergo character development in relation to his loved ones (and Cas). With high self-worth, Dean’s capable of learning how to value HIMSELF independently. In turn, without personal obstacles he’ll learn how to sustain HEALTHY interdependent relationships and COMMUNICATION as well as learn how to WHOLLY GIVE HIMSELF to others (Cas).

Tell Cas he’s not expendable, Dean. Disclose the real reason YOU “needed him back”. Expose your feelings, choose Want over Need, and push away your rejection fears! Cas loves you dearly—let him know that his love for you is reciprocated. Nothing but good things ahead!!

And that’s the mystery of life: to live is to die. To die is to live. By “dying”, Dean saves his loved ones. He saves the world. He saves Cas, his romance-coded (sub)textual lover, Jack his son, and Sam his brother -- his family.

He saves himself. 

His mind, his rules.

And Dean doesn’t know FOR SURE if this burial choice will lead to a win -- neither do we know if he’ll go through with it until 14x11 airs -- but that’s AGENCY, my friends. It’s the meat of particular Time Travel Is Bad tropes: if we know our ending, life loses meaning. The choices we make to get there loses value. Humanity loses unpredictability. Ergo the journey through life - the POINT of living - is about executing choices and taking chances.

"If nothing we do matters, then all that matters is what we do." - Camus, Absurdism 

The biggest reminder governing my SPN viewing as it had last season:

[marvelmymarvel]

Caged Sadness

Lucifer x Reader

Synopsis: A bad night at the bar leads an old lover to show up in your motel room after feeling your pain. When you urge him away, you find another way to find him and get the secrets to why he’s always around.

You hated it. Every stinking blonde girl that walked by, got his attention. Rolling your eyes as you noticed his lingering eyes and his disinterest in your story. Grabbing your beer bottle, you downed it before sliding off the chair, “I’m done...” you snapped and his head snapped to yours. “What” he whispered as you shook on your coat, “I’ll get my own room, you have fun with busty Betty” you snarled before storming out. “One room please” you snapped at the receptionist, she frowned at your angry behavior but placed the key on the desk anyway. You slid it off the desk and walked over to the room. Opening the door, you flicked the lights on, looking around you were happy to see that it wasn't that bad for 20 bucks. 

Placing your bag down as you walked into the bathroom. Turning the bath faucet on, you let the warm water run along your hand as you groaned in euphoria. Finally. All you wanted to do was take a bath and go to bed, but Dean had pulled you to the bar considering Sam said no. And now, you were here. Shutting the faucet off, you stepped into the tub, sinking into the hot water, you felt all of your muscles relax. Moaning in relief, you began to massage your arms and legs. These boys had you really pushing your body to the limit, but you wouldn't change it for the world, you would only change Dean. An hour into your bath, you had both washed up and added more hot water, not wanting to leave the steamy bathroom. The smell of your flowery shampoo filled the room as you let out the water with a sigh. You were hypnotized by the way the lukewarm cloudy liquid flowed down the drain, making a little whirlpool as you used to call it as a kid. You stood up carefully, grabbing the cheap towel the motel gave you, luckily for you, you got two. You dried off your body and wrapped your hair up in the other towel. Changing into pajamas you began to brush your teeth. Your toothbrush stilled as you heard the door open. Grabbing your phone you looked at the time, 3 am. 

You squatted down and grabbed the handgun from your duffle bag, cocking the top of it you walked towards the door, toothbrush hanging from your mouth and all. Opening the door you swung out into the room, gun raised and ready for action. You opened fire seeing a man in the corner, but only for the lights to flick on and you to see who it was. Lowering the gun you sighed taking the toothbrush out. “Really” you started but he just smiled sheepishly at you. “A 3 AM Booty Call ain't happening” you called out before walking back into the bathroom. Leaning over, you spit out the foam, standing up you saw him behind you in the mirror as he lifted his fingers to play with your wet hair. “I thought you missed me” he whispered before wrapping his arms around you.

“Oh... you thought now did you” you whispered while looking at him in disappointment. “You can't be here Luc” you hissed as you walked out of the bathroom, shutting the light off as you passed. “I can be here thank you” he whispered as you sat on the edge of your bed, plugging in your phone. “This whole, thing,” you motioned between you two “Cant be a thing” you stated while rubbing your head in annoyance. You looked at him sadly as he leaned against the door frame. “Luc” you whispered as he walked forward, he grabbed your wrists, making you think that this was in fact real. You cried out at the touch, it didn't hurt you physically, but you felt your heart breaking all over again. You hated that you fell for him, you hated yourself every day. When he was thrown to hell years ago you thought you could let it all go, but he was tied to you. You prayed for God to forgive you, to separate you two, for you couldn't stand the sin any longer. “Luc... please just... I can't bear this” you sobbed out, putting your head in your hands as you cried harder. Your heart was breaking into a million pieces and he could sense that. “I can't stand to see you anymore-” you started louder looking up, to see that he was gone. It was quiet in the room as your lip trembled. A sob echoed out and you slammed your hand over your mouth trying to stay quiet as you cried and cried till there was nothing left to cry.

You woke up hungover and puffy faced to a pounding on the door. “Come on y/n you have 20 minutes!” Sam called out. But you weren't coming with them. You grabbed a bowl and the necessary supplies, slicing your hand, you hissed, letting the blood drip into the bowl. Swiping the match you dropped it, the fire erupted and you stared at it, hoping for something, only to feel an arm wrap around your waist. You whirled around, face to face with Crowley made you calm down, thankful that it worked. 

“You rang?” he purred and you nodded, “Take me down,” you said slowly. “Down?” Crowley asked and you nodded “I need to talk to him Crowl” you whispered. He looked at you with worry evident on his face “Love-” but the knocking cut him off as you both looked at the door. “Please” you begged “Y/N?” Sam called out “Alright then darling” Crowley whispered before grabbing your waist. “Y/N!” Sam screamed hearing Crowley's voice. The door broke down right as you zapped away with Crowley, leaving the youngest Winchester in shambles and afraid to tell his brother what happened. 

Hell was, well, Hell. The moans and groans of the souls around you made you squeamish as you soon realized that you’d be having nightmares for a very long time after this. You gripped onto Crowley as he opened a door, there was holy fire surrounding the cage as you stepped onto a balcony with him. Crowley nodded at the cage and you began to descend the steps, quiet to you, but Luc knew someone was there. “Luc” you called out, making him turn from his corner. He looked at you confused, then up to Crowley in anger. 

Luc smudged the spell alongside his cage which made the fire go out, you backed up but then were teleported into the cage. Your breath was taken away from you as he cornered you in the cage. “I don't know who you are inside of her, but get. out.” Luc snarled into your face. You cringed at the anger and ferocity as his red eyes gleamed angrily. “Luc it's me, I’m not possessed...” You tried to reassure by touching his shoulder but he shoved your hands back forcibly making you whimper in pain. “She is not a meat suit for you to use Crowley” Luc snarled back at him as you held your hand which felt sprained. “Crowley, get me out of here-” you started as you tried to run to the other side of the cage. Luc pushed you down and you groaned in pain as your head hit the metal bar. He straddled you and held down your wrists making you cry out when he gripped the sprained one even harder. “Luci it's me” you cried out trying to reach him with your face “IT’S ME.” The break in your voice snapped him out of it as he realized you, in fact, weren't possessed. He let go of you and flew off of you as you laid there breathing heavily. You cried out as you tried to sit up, scooting along your butt to the edge of the cage you gripped onto your wrist. Whimpering at the now broken bones inside. A hand covered your wrist and you flinched looking up at Luc. A light came from his hand as he healed you, you groaned at the feeling of the bones snapping together but it was all over once it was healed. “Why are you here” he whispered darkly. Now, he was angry at you, and the real you at that. “I needed to talk to you” you croaked out defensively like you had a right to be here. He shook his head, lip quivering in anger, “this could be a trap, you could be in danger” he whispered as he gripped your face in his hand. “I won't hurt her” Crowley called out “Not unless she gets in my way.” 

The last sentence made Luc stand up “I swear to my Dad that if you lay one finger on her I will break out of this cage myself and so help me, you will be wishing you were dead” Luc snarled like a rabid dog against the cage bars. “Can we talk, please... So I can get out of here” you begged while grabbing his hand and pulling him back from the bars and away from the only person who could get you home. Luc sat down and pressed his lips to your nose, “anything for my pumpkin” he purred which made you roll your eyes at his attempt of sweet talk. “Why are you around me still,” you asked. It was a question you had ever since he showed his face after he fell. You thought you lost him forever, you were free from your sin, but then he popped up everywhere you went, and it hurt you. “I don't know” he stated calmly, “You’re the only person I really care about” he answered plainly “that means that I can feel your emotions stronger than anyone else can, and I hate feeling your sadness. So I project myself to you so you won't be alone like I am when I’m sad.” His confession made your heart break even more as you cupped his cheek, “How do I break the bond” you croaked out. It was the hardest thing you ever had to ask, but enough was enough. He looked up at you and sighed, “It can’t be taken away... You and I are marked.” he whispered. Your eyes widened at this as you understood then why he was so addicting, why he was only kind to you, why he only cared about you.  “My father, for some reason, decided to mark me to a human, specifically you. Called it, humanizing” He stated like it was a boring topic for him. But it all fell into place for you, “God did this” you pressed and he nodded “Yep, God did.” You nodded finally realizing that no matter what, he would feel your pain, and no matter what he would always be there, behind bars or not. 

Arriving back on earth, you thanked Crowley. “He won't bother me anymore, he promised me that.... but I needed to know why he was attached to me, so thank you,” you whispered and he nodded while showing his phone to you. “20 missed calls from Squirrel. I think he missed ya” He teased and you rolled your eyes as you heard the Impala approaching. He disappeared right as the Impala stopped, Dean ran out and encased you in a hug, apologizing for ignoring you at the bar, but you just hugged him back. Maybe you could move on, you thought as you hugged him harder, maybe God would let you. 

tags: @hell-itwasyou

[bishopsorphan]

Plans B Through Z (Ducifer, post season 13 finale)

“Are you sure this will work?”

Castiel looked up from his spellwork. “No. But it’s our best chance of saving Dean from Michael.”

Jack nodded. They’d spent two days pouring over books and scrolls and websites, looking for any way to stop an archangel without hurting the vessel. “Is this really going to work, though?”

“It has to,” Sam said. “Gabe will help us. If anyone can figure out how to kill Michael without killing Dean, it’s Gabriel. We just have to find a world where he’s alive.”

So that was the plan: alter the spell with Rowena’s help, take a rift to a world with an archangel willing to help them save their world.

It would be Gabriel. It had to be.

“Are we ready, then?” Rowena asked as Cas finished up. The men all nodded. “All right. Let’s get to it.”

It took considerable power, the burning body of a (finally) dead archangel, and a whole assload of hope. The lights flickered. The flames shuddered. Slowly, a glowing split appeared before them. Grew wider, wider, wide enough to step through.

Sam took a deep breath to steel himself. For Dean. They were doing this for Dean. He stepped through...

...And promptly found himself back in the bunker, face-to-face with the Devil.

He jumped back on instinct, back through the rift, heart pounding. No. No. Not again, they’d just gotten rid of him. They’d finally won. He couldn’t be back, couldn’t come back, couldn’t follow Sam back.

But he did.

He grabbed the front of Sam’s shirt, calling the hunter’s name. But he didn’t follow Sam through. Instead, he pulled him back, toppling the hunter down on top of himself. Sam had seen Jack and Cas, though, hoped that they’d seen Lucifer and would follow him back through, stop the Devil again, save another world.

And he was right. They did. Jack and Cas were right behind him, weapons at the ready.

Lucifer, still pinned under him, tipped his head back. “At least it’s not Mike this time.”

Sam looked up at the room he’d fallen into. The War Room. Sitting around the table were Cas and Jack and himself and...

“Dean!” He was up in an instant, scrambling off the Devil, running to embrace the brother he’d thought he’d lost. But Lucifer got in the way. Literally. Appeared between them faster than Sam could blink.

“Woah, hi, hey, yeah. Can we help you?”

“Dean.” Sam tried to push past Lucifer, but there was no moving the angel. He turned his full attention to the Devil. “Let him go. Let all of them go.”

“Um. What?” Lucifer honestly looked confused. Like he literally had no idea what Sam was talking about. Like he wasn’t holding all of them hostage.

Behind him, Cas - his Cas - spoke up. “Sam, I don’t think that’s the case.” He was standing nose-to-nose with his double. They would have looked exactly alike - head tilt and all - if alternaCas hadn’t been clad in jeans, a blue t-shirt, and a gray flannel.

Lucifer shifted, drawing Sam’s attention. Dean was pushing the angel aside. “He lives here.” Dean looked him up and down, taking Sam in. “Something happened. What happened? Luce, let him by.”

“Luce?” Sam stammered. And then Dean was there, in his space, hugging him. Like he knew. Of course he knew. He had asked what had happened, right after... “He lives here?”

Sam pulled away from his brother to stare wide-eyed at the Devil. “No. No, no.” He looked back at Cas and Jack. “It didn’t work. Gabriel’s not here.”

Dean stiffened at that, leaning toward Lucifer. “We tried. Michael killed him. We think he used what was left of Gabe’s Grace to open a rift and hop over here.”

“You had an Apocalypse World, too?” Cas asked. His double nodded. “How is Dean still here?”

The alternasquad shared a look. “You might want to sit down for this,” Sam’s double said, speaking up for the first time. “It’s kind of a wild ride.”

~~~~

It wasn’t that wild of a ride. Well, except for the addition of Lucifer. That was where their timelines had split, when the Devil had hopped back in time to try and gain Sam’s trust as a child. Somehow, though, he’d wound up with them, fighting by their side through visions and Seals and the Apocalypse, riding Dean to the Prize Fight and knocking Michael into Hell alone. He’d been with them after that, too, until the Leviathans riding Cas had exploded him back to Hell. Dean had been the ones with the hallucinations, little shards of Grace in his soul, keeping him whole. He’d started breaking Seals again after the Mark had made him a demon, weaking the Cage enough that when Lucifer had ridden Cas out of it, Michael had followed. Jack was his - Michael’s - not Lucifer’s in this world, and their Michael was dead, killed by his Apocalypse World counterpart after pulling Mary and Luce through the rift.

That part was wild.

And the part about Dean and Lucifer being a thing. Since before Stull.

“My Father forgave me because I was finally willing to kneel before humanity.”

“Chuck forgave you because you give awesome blowjobs.”

Lucifer sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “They don’t need to hear that.”

“Why not? Our them knows and they haven’t blown up.”

“Not the point.”

Yeah, that was a hard one to process. Only slightly harder to process than the way they’d finally managed to stop Apocalypse Michael.

He’d created his own rift and come through, just like in Sam’s world. But unlike in Sam’s world, they hadn’t been too busy dealing with their Lucifer problem to come up with a plan.

“He was all jacked up on nephilim Grace,” Sam - the other Sam - explained as they sat around the War Room table. “It charged him up enough that he started breaking out of his vessel, which made him really strong and really weak at the same time. We figured the only thing that had a chance against him would be an archangel in its true vessel. And since we happened to have those two things hanging around separately...”

“But you’re still you?” Sam argued. “How are you still you?”

“I wasn’t gonna stay in Sam,” Lucifer said. “That would have made things icky. Besides,” he shrugged, “I gave up on the whole ‘true vessel’ schtick a long time ago. You were never the one I had a very meaningful relationship with, anyway.”

Sam leaned back in his chair, his eyes traveling between the Devil and Dean. They both looked so different, but in subtle ways. Dean looked younger, somehow, softer. Not in a way that would affect his hunting. In a way that would affect his life. They both looked happy, relaxed.

He actually believed them. Believed their time-travel story. Their... love story. Believed that in another world he said yes to the Devil and saved the world without almost inadvertently destroying it.

Cas leaned forward beside him. “That brings us to the reason we’re here. In our world, Lucifer was always a villain. Wore Sam to Stull, trapped him in the Cage -” Lucifer visibly paled and shuddered at that before being calmed by Dean’s hand on his shoulder - “tore at his mind. He was our Jack’s father, and in an effort to save the world, Dean said yes to the other Michael. He killed Lucifer -” it was Dean’s turn to look uncomfortable, prompting Lucifer to take his hand - “but Michael took him from us. We have no idea where Dean is or when Michael plans to start attacking out world.”

“We were hoping to find Gabriel,” Jack added. “Rowena changed the spell to open the rift. We were trying to find an archangel to help us stop Michael without killing Dean. That’s what the magic focused on.”

“Well,” alternaSam shrugged. “You found him. Luce and I beat him once, we can do it again.”

Lucifer shook his head. “Not so easy. Yeah, we ganked Michael, but we killed the guy he was wearing, too. I’m not killing Dean.”

“Aw, thanks, Sunshine.” Dean grinned.

“Not to mention he’ll be stronger in Dean. Might not be able to kill him period.”

“There must be some way,” alternaCas argued.

The Devil hummed. “Long shottin’ it? If we can get your Dean to let me in , I might be able to pull Michael out of him. This plane, we’re weaker without vessels. As long as I had something tethering me to Sammy I might have enough power to rip Mike apart.”

AlternaSam nodded. “That settles it.”

“No,” Dean said with a frown. “What if it doesn’t work? What if something happens to you two?”

“I told you last time, Cowboy,” Lucifer said, “he’s coming back even if I don’t.”

“Maybe I want you both to come back.”

“Maybe you’ll only have to worry about one of them,” Sam said. All eyes turned to him, boring into him. “Dean’s my brother. I’m gonna save him. Me, not some alternate world me. And if that means I have to say yes to Lucifer again, then I will. You all seem to trust him, at least.”

“And who says I want to ride you to Apocalypse Part Infinity?” Lucifer asked. “You don’t know me, and I don’t know you. Worst case scenario for you, this is some upside-down evil world. Best case scenario for you, we’re on the up-and-up and I get stuck with your Lucifer’s sloppy seconds. Probably had face herpes when you said yes, right? Ew.” The small smile faded from his features and he leaned forward across the table toward Sam. “Real talk: I’m honored. Really. But I can’t guarantee this’ll work. Much as I’d love to help you save your Dean, I’ve got mine to worry about.”

“Do it.”

Lucifer turned to his... whatever Dean was to him here. “Seriously? You were just telling me -”

“If it were the other way. If it were me trying to save Sam. Just do it, Luce. Help him get his brother back.”

Lucifer heaved a deep sigh and hung his head. “Stupid self-sacrificing jackasses. Fine.” He leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on Dean’s lips. “We’ll come back.”

Dean smirked. “You better. Pick your jaw up off the floor, Sammy. You’re gonna want to get a move on. Rift’s not gonna be open forever.”

Sam hadn’t even realized he was gaping. It was just... not a thing he’d expected to see in his life. Ever. Not even in a nightmare. The chances of this world existing must have been slim to none. It was a miracle they’d landed here. Maybe an actual honest-to-Chuck miracle if Lucifer could save Dean.

The Devil got to his feet and nodded toward the hallway. “Should probably do this somewhere else. Don’t wanna fry everyone’s eyes out.”

“Right.” It suddenly hit him, as he followed Lucifer down the hall, that he was about to do something incredibly stupid in an attempt to fix something equally as stupid that Dean had done. Saying yes to Lucifer was something he’d sworn he’d never do again. It was something he didn’t think he’d ever have to worry about again. And now here he was, standing at the door to Dean’s bedroom with the Devil, about to get ridden to another Apocalyptic showdown. “Why Dean’s room?”

“Dean’s?” Lucifer grinned. “Yeah, right. Dean’s room. Just Dean’s. Only Dean in here.” He opened the door and ushered Sam in. The room looked almost the same as it did in Sam’s world. Some pictures, records, guns. But the photos were different here. Dean and Lucifer at the Grand Canyon at sunrise. Himself and Dean as kids sitting on Santa’s lap at the mall - he was sure that had never happened in his universe. Jack and Cas and Gabriel together and smiling. A framed selfie of Dean and Lucifer kissing.

Lucifer had sat down on the edge of the bed and was taking off his shoes and jacket, tossing them on the floor. He looked up at Sam. “I know you don’t want this. I tried to talk you out of it here, too. You guys are freakin’ evil geniuses when it comes to bending the rules, you know. You put your head together with my boys, you might be able to figure something better out.”

“Rift probably won’t be open that long,” Sam said with a shrug. Nervous butterflies were tumbling around his stomach. Lucifer was right. He didn’t want this. But there was no other choice. “And there’s no telling what kind of damage Michael will cause in the meantime.”

The angel got back to his feet and walked up to Sam. “The second I sense any discomfort from you, I’m out. You’re in charge until we find Michael unless something life-threatening pops up. You say stop, I’ll stop. Sound good?” 

Sam nodded.

Lucifer nodded back. “Ok. You trust me?”

Sam licked his lips. Shifted his weight. Took a deep breath. “Yes.”

Just like the last time, blinding light enveloped him. He felt hot and cold at the same time, old and young, every emotion and nothing. And then the light faded. Something soft and warm and careful curled around something deep inside Sam and settled.

It was different. Before it had been like two broken halves slotting together, but now it was... not right.

“Spent too much time in your brother.” It was Lucifer. Speaking with his mouth. Cradling the discarded vessel as he carried it over to the bed. “Sorry about... just don’t want to make Dean clean up Mister Comatose over here.”

What do you mean you spent too much time in Dean?

“When Dean said yes the first time, I felt what Hell did to him. I might have, kinda, fixed it. The wounds that Cas was too low on the food chain to heal.” He laid the vessel out and pulled the bedsheets up to its chin. “Had to use Grace to do it. That caused it to change shape a little bit. And after that first time, I started hopping into him every couple of weeks to heal the damage my Grace was doing to Nick there. We rubbed off on each other. You’re not a perfect fit anymore, even in this world. Still the best-tailored suit I’ve ever worn.”

His smile bled into Sam’s as the human felt himself sliding back into control. He flexed his fingers. There was a strength in him, a power. Something he’d felt in Detroit but been too scared to poke at. It had felt cold, harsh, too much like Ruby and Azazel and every other demon that had used him. But this felt different. Kind and warm and - dare he say it - angelic.

“You’re not my Lucifer.”

Damn straight.

“Let’s go save Dean.”

~~~~

The first thing Sam had felt upon crossing through the rift was a shudder from Lucifer. The angel had said he was fine. That it was just feeling Michael again that was setting him on edge.

It hadn’t taken them long to find Michael. Even changed by the Apocalypse World and trying to shield himself from the few angels left, Lucifer could pinpoint his Grace with surprising accuracy.

“Dean?” Dean didn’t dress like that, never looked that smug, so self-important. “Michael.”

The thing wearing his brother smiled. “Shouldn’ta tried to find me, Sammy. Whatever you’ve got inside you can’t stop me. Nothing can stop me now.” He raised his hand, snapped his fingers.

There was a fraction of a second where Sam felt himself ripping apart at the seams before wings wrapped around him and Grace surged through him, bleeding red through his eyes. “Sure about that, bro?” Twin blades slid from his sleeves, dropping into Lucifer’s waiting hands.

Michael just smirked. “I’ve already killed you. Twice.”

“Yeah, hoping to tie us up on that today.”

Michael’s grin faltered. Wings unfurled from his back and thunder rolled in the distance. His feet lifted off the ground.

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “Please, with the theatrics. We get it. You’re an angel. You can fly.”

The older brother dove at them, but Lucifer stepped easily aside, landing a blow to his brother’s back with the butt of his blade. Michael responded by spinning and tossing Lucifer against a tree without even touching him.

“Sorry, Sam,” Lucifer muttered as Michael approached. “But if I know Dean, this’ll be the best way to get to him.” 

Sam had just enough time to wonder what Lucifer was talking about before Michael threw his fist punch. To his credit, Lucifer was the one taking the blows; Sam didn’t feel anything at all.

“Come on, Dean,” Lucifer pleaded through a mouthful of blood. “You’re better than this.” There was a truth in his words that Sam could feel, a sort of devotion behind every syllable deeper than anything he’d ever felt. Holy shit. The Devil actually loved his brother. “You did this for Sam, right? You can undo it for him, too. I can help. But you gotta break through first. For Sam. For Sammy. Take the bastard down.”

Michael grimaced. “You’re not gonna get through to him. He hates himself.”

“But I don’t. I could never hate him. Sam could never hate him. Come on, Dean. Come on, man. Come back to us. We love you.”

Michael hit his knees, tears slipping from his eyes. “Sammy? Cas?”

Lucifer slid down the tree trunk, healing the damage Michael had done as he went. “Almost. Sam, duh.” He took Dean’s chin his hands, looking the older hunter in the eye. “I’m an angel. Not from here. Sam let me in willingly to help you. He trusted me. Now I need you to trust me, ok, Dean? I can get Michael out, but I need you to trust me.”

“What’s your name?” Dean shuddered. “He says... he says you’re...”

“Hey! Dean! Stay with me. Look at me. This is Sammy we’re talking about, ok? He trusts me. Maybe... maybe you don’t need to, then. Maybe you can just trust him? What do you say, Dean? Do you trust your brother? Do you trust Sam?”

There was a beat where Sam was absolutely terrified of what his brother would say, was scared that Dean still didn’t trust him, could never and would never trust him again. And then Dean smiled. “Yeah, I trust Sammy. Yes.”

Lucifer nodded. Hold on tight, man. I’m gonna need you on this one.

Light and smoke and stars and lightning and love burst out of Sam’s mouth in a plume of bright blue and slid into his brother, down Dean’s throat. For one glorious, terrifying moment, Sam could feel them. Could feel himself. Could feel Lucifer. Could feel Dean. The quick stab of sorrow Lucifer felt at the state of Dean’s soul, Dean’s mind, Dean.

And then it was done. Dean was staring at him with wide, shocked eyes. The air above them was writhing with power as the two archangels fought, Lucifer still anchored somewhere deep in Sam, still streaming out of his mouth. 

Sam could feel his grip getting loose and looser, though, could feel Michael winning, and then it was gone. The feeling. The angel. 

Without thinking, he reached up, grasping at the glow of blue that was Lucifer. He wasn’t sure if it would do anything, if it would make a difference, but it did. He grabbed onto something. It wasn’t solid, per se, more like those elementary school science experiment where you mix water and cornstarch. Solid and liquid at the same time. He could grab onto Lucifer, but the angel was constantly threatening to slip through his fingers.

“Dean! Help me!”

Dean didn’t question it. Either he was too shocked by his sudden freedom to do anything but respond to Sam’s command, or he had felt the same difference in Lucifer as Sam had and was actually trying to save the Devil.

As soon as Dean grabbed the smoke a shock seemed to travel down Sam’s arms, straight to the core of him. Tendrils of Grace sank down, slid around both their arms, wrapped around their chest, sunk into their hearts. Into their souls. But it didn’t hurt. Not like when Cas had done it. Lucifer was clearly drawing power from them, but it wasn’t anything they weren’t willing to give, wasn’t anything they’d hadn’t already given him permission to take. He was helping.

He was winning. Michael’s glow was getting fainter, flickering out, and with one final clap of thunder, Lucifer rended his brother in two.

Everything was silent, perfectly still. Birds stopped chirping. The wind died completely. They stayed like that for a moment, for forever, the two brothers connected to the Devil, the Devil swirling above them. And then between them. The glowing smoke listed toward Dean for a second, probably out of instinct, before slamming back into Sam.

Sam felt Lucifer settle again, exhausted. “We did it.” He looked at his brother and smiled. “We did it. We saved you.”

Dean didn’t look so excited. “Who is ‘we,’ exactly? What did I just let in me, Sam?”

Sammy shook his head. “It’s not him, Dean. I know you felt it. It’s not him.”

“Ok, but how.”

“Oh, you are gonna love this.”

~~~~

He passed easily through the rift with Dean. There were Rowenas on both sides keeping it open, apparently. Cas had spent the better part of the day exploring different clothing options with his double. Jack had been learning from alternaDean what kind of man his father could have been, what kind of man he still had the potential to be.

“Woah. Trippy.” Dean looked around the family room, taking in the fact that there were two of everyone.

“It gets weirder,” Sam promised. “Just, uh, give me a second to dump the freeloader here.”

Dean wandered off to join the group as Sam took Lucifer back to his room.

“Thanks, man. I was really starting to think we might have to kill him to save him.”

If there’s anything I’ve learned from staying with you boys, it’s that there’s always a plan B through Z.

Sam sat down on the edge of the bed and waited. Light filled the room, and suddenly he was alone again. He turned around to see Lucifer sitting up and pulling off the covers. “You want to freak out your brother, right?”

Sam grinned. “Duh.”

They wandered back to the family room together. Sam pulled out his phone as Lucifer flopped down on the couch and threw his legs over alternaDean. “Miss me?”

AlternaDean grinned. “Always.” They kissed, long and passionate and - yeah, yup, there was definitely tongue.

Sam managed to snap a picture of Dean, mouth hanging open, eyes comically wide, watching the display. He even got the happy couple in the background. He quickly saved it, and then texted it to a number he’d fished out of Lucifer’s brain earlier in the day.

The Devil’s phone rang. He pulled away from his boyfriend’s mouth long enough to dig in his pocket and bring up the message. “Oh, babe,” he showed the screen to his Dean. “We are definitely framing this one.”

“That’s it!” Dean announced. “We’re going. We’re leaving this ridiculous hellhole and never coming back!” He turned toward the rift and stopped, glancing over his shoulder. “Thanks for the save.”

Lucifer grinned. “Any time, baby.”

Dean groaned and stepped through the rift. The rest of the group said their good-byes and followed, Sam going last. “Thank you, really. You didn’t have to risk your life for him.”

Lucifer shrugged. “Meh. What can I say. I love the guy. People do crazy things when they’re in love.”

AlternaDean rolled his eyes. “No more Disney marathons for us.”

“Technically that means no Star Wars. No Avengers. No X-Men.”

“No CARTOON Disney movies.”

Sam smiled at the banter. He’d never actually seen his brother look so happy. He hoped maybe one day his own Dean could find the same sort of love. Just... not from Satan. Because Satan was dead. Finally.

He tipped them all one last wave and headed back through the rift, asking Rowena to close it behind him.

It wasn’t until a few hours later that he realized he had a text message from Lucifer. Wondering if it would even have saved what with the inter-dimensional travel, he opened it up. Sam’s blood ran cold.

Dean didn’t kill him. I’m still there.

[goodfemalecharacters]

Season 12 Codas

Since we’re all deep in hiatus, I figured I would make a master list of my s12 fics for anyone here on tumblr who’s interested. Fic list beneath the cut :)

12x01: Heartbeat

“The souls are gone,” Cas says, breathing a sigh of relief. He’s close enough that Dean can feel it on his face.

Cas slides his hand further back and finds his pulse. A human way of checking. Dean desperately hopes he doesn’t feel his heartrate tick up. They stay there for a heartbeat (Dean knows, he’s counting) longer than they have to before stepping back.

After they get back to the bunker with Mary in tow, Dean and Cas need to talk about the Lucifer thing.

ao3 / tumblr

12x02: On Eagle’s Wings

“So. Mom in action. Weird.”

Not exactly the best word for the utter confusion of seeing his mother a) stab someone and b) beat up on a seasoned fighter like Lady What’s Her Face.

Cas inclines his head. “I’ve found that sometimes the people we idolize are not what we expect.”

12x02 Coda. Sam and Mary go to church, while Dean and Cas have some God talk of their own.

ao3 / tumblr

12x03: Jet Lag

"The thing is, intellectually, Dean knows this isn’t permanent. Because even if he’s never been a parent, he practically raised Sam and he knows what empty nest syndrome feels like. Mom’s out there looking for her kids. Once she realizes that the only place she’ll ever find them is this bunker, she’ll be back. Or, at least, he hopes so. But the emotionally raw side of him, the part that feels like the four-year-old Mary is so desperately searching for, has completely taken over. He sits in the middle of his bed clutching a pillow, fighting the lost-in-the-mall feeling in his chest with all his might.

Cas left. Mom left. He can’t even keep his family together for more than two damn days.

Once Mary leaves the bunker, Sam figures that there's only one person to call that can drag Dean out of his funk.

ao3 / tumblr

12x04: Starting Small

“They’re older than me. How am I supposed to be their mother?”

She’s not running from her sons, she realizes. She’s running from their picture of her, from the woman that they think she is.

Castiel shrugs. “I don’t know. But I would start with trying to be their friend.”

After Mary leaves the bunker, she ends up calling Cas to find out a little bit more about her kids. Mary and Cas friendship fic.

ao3 / tumblr

12x05: Unusually Domestic 

“So,” Cas says conversationally, “you killed Hitler?”

“It was awesome.”

Dean launches into a full play-by-play of the hunt. Cas helps the story along by nodding appreciatively in all the right places. He even goes so far as to let out a gasp at one point, which Dean would not have seen coming.

There are days that I think my life can’t get any stranger,” Dean tells him.

Of course, he’s saying this while sitting in the kitchen of an underground bunker that used to be owned by a group of anti-supernatural geeks with an angel, drinking a cup of coffee. It can’t get much stranger than that.

Cas and Dean chat.  It gets domestic.

ao3 / tumblr

12x06: Chocolate Chip Pancakes

An awkward silence descends. Cas tries to break it.

“Are you and Alex—?”

Oh, God. She can’t have this conversation.

“Are you and Dean?” Claire snarks back.

Cas is heading through Omaha and catches Claire and Alex after the Radiohead concert.

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12x07: The Blame Game

“If Lucifer was still trapped in the Cage, he wouldn’t be out there killing people. Every single person he takes early is on me.”

Sam shakes his head. “If we’re going to be playing the blame game, I’d say that the person who let him out in the first place wins.”

Cas looks miserable. “I was the one who let you out of the panic room.”

“And if you want to get technical like that, you would have never gone to the Cage in the first place if I hadn’t been stupid enough to think that God would bother talking to me.”

Sam and Cas finally talk about the Lucifer thing.

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12x08: The Worst Part

Dean is going to lose his mind in here.

He’d never call himself a people person, but the truth is that he’s lived very little of his life alone. Growing up, he’d never gotten a moment to himself. Back then, it had seemed like a curse, but he’d happily kill right now if it meant he got to spend an hour in a sleazy motel room at three A.M. with Sam and Dad snoring up a storm. Even after he and Dad split up for hunts, he still found himself surrounded by people—the occasional one night stand, thin motel walls, sleeping in the Impala on the side of the highway with the sound of traffic.

The worst part is the loneliness.

It's been thirty-five days. Sam and Dean are trying to cope with their imprisonment, and Mary and Cas are doing their best to get them out.

ao3 / tumblr

12x09: Love and Love

There’s something about the way Cas says his name like it’s a prayer, like it means everything, that makes him snap.

“I’m not worth that! Not worth yanking Mom back into this—this messed up thing we call a life! Not worth upending the entire world for the thousandth time!”

By the time the tirade is over, his chest is heaving like he’s followed Sam on one of his ridiculous runs. Of all things, that’s finally what earns him a response.

“Of course you are,” Cas says.

After they all get back to the bunker, Sam and Mary have a conversation about Hell, and Dean and Cas talk some things out.

ao3 / tumblr

12x10: Red Hands

Cas doesn’t answer. Dean reaches up to take one of the bloodied hands in both of his own. It’s shaking. Gently, Dean moves his thumb in a slow circle around Cas’s knuckles. Some of the tension in Cas’s hands drains away, but his shoulders stay hunched, his eyes locked on something that Dean can’t see.

Cas killed another one of his siblings. Dean steps in to take care of the guilt.

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12x11: More Than His Share

He’s amazed by how much Cas there is in his memories.

The exact fold of his old, ill-fitting trench coat, down to how many buttons chased each other up and down the flaps. The gummy crinkles of his first-ever smile, and how much bigger it’s been growing over the years. The warm steadiness of his hand on Dean’s shoulder, resting where the scorching red handprint used to lay.

Dean’s lived a long life—most of it, admittedly, dead. But Cas takes up so much more than his share of space.

After Dean gets his memories back, he talks with Cas. 

ao3 / tumblr

12x12: Watching Over You

Dean still grabs him again to lead him into the room. For his part, Cas just lets it happen. Right now, it feels better to have someone else in the drivers’ seat. He does raise his eyebrows when he realizes there’s only one bed, though. He turns around enough in Dean’s grip to catch a glance of his face.

A flush rises in Dean’s cheeks. “I—I wasn’t planning on sleeping.”

He maneuvers Cas until he’s sitting on the edge of the bed. Cas can’t help the tiny smile that tugs on the edges of his lips.

“You were planning to watch over me.”

After nearly losing Cas again, there are some things Dean wants to say. Well, not quite say. But the sentiment's there.

ao3 / tumblr

12x13: Mamma Drama

"He really doesn’t want to have this conversation, but he presses forward anyway.

“Imagine if someone—if God, if your brother—sat you down across from Alastair and told you to buck up, work together, save the world.”

He tries to keep the bitterness from his voice, but that just makes the sentence fall completely flat from his lips. It sounds like someone else entirely has said it. Sam examines his fingernails for a long moment before looking up to check how Dean has taken it."

Sam and Dean talk about Mary working with the BMoL. It goes...surprisingly better than expected.

ao3 / tumblr

12x14: Sales Pitch

Jody Mills likes to think that she has a pretty good BS meter. You have to, in her line of work. (That is, raising two teenaged daughters who think that if they work together, they can outwit her. They can’t. They can try, but they can’t.)

That said, the guy in front of her is off the charts.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Name’s Mick,” he says with a smile.

Mick tries to recruit a couple of hunters by name dropping the Winchesters. It doesn't go as planned.

ao3 / tumblr

12x15: Heaven Doesn’t Come With Keys

“This is Heaven that we’re talking about here, Cas. That worries the hell out of me, okay?”

Cas lets out a bitter laugh. “I don’t think you have to worry about me teaming up with them.”

His wings, still incorporeal, fold in close to his body, even though there’s no one there but Dean to see them. He can’t help himself; he’s pretty sure there’s a slight red tinge to his cheeks despite the fact he should be separate from his vessel. Should be. Maybe that’s why his wings are so—

“Cas—”

The words burst out before he can stop them. “They said I was broken.”

Cas and Dean talk about Heaven and home. 12x15 coda.

ao3 / tumblr

12x16: Parent or Angelic Guardian

Cas’s voice is bitterly cold. “So I should just stay on the job, then. Let you take care of my—of Claire.”

“She’s not your daughter, Cas.” It comes out a little sharper than he’d intended, because he’s thinking of a little boy in Indiana who’d thought that Dean was the king standing on top of the world, not Atlas sweating beneath it.

“She’s not yours, either.”

Dean opens his mouth to speak, but gets cut off by the click of being disconnected.

Dean calls Cas about the incident with Claire. It doesn't go too well.

ao3 / tumblr

12x17: Thank You

“Have you—have you ever—”

Her voice breaks off. Sam leans back on his bed and roots around in the drawer of his bedside table. He’s ninety percent sure he has a tissue box in there somwh—oh. He pulls one out and hands it over. Eileen blows her nose loudly, then crumples the tissue in her fist.

“Yeah.”

God knows how many times. It’s not usually something she talks about, but there are tears in her eyes and she looks like she might need another tissue pretty soon, and there’s a feeling in his chest that hasn’t been there in who knows how long.

Eileen and Sam sort of end up sharing a bed. It's cute.

ao3 / tumblr

12x18: Superdad

When it’s all said and done, Cas has a baby in his arms.

Nephilim, Dean reminds himself, but it’s difficult to think about the kid like that when he’d seen his very human mother bleed out, pleading with them to take care of him. Dean’s seen a whole lot of awful in his time, but that ranked pretty high on the list.

She hadn’t even gotten a chance to name him.

The motel room somehow seems even more suffocating now than it had a few minutes ago. Cas sits perched on the end of the bed where Kelly—yeah. And he has a baby in his arms. What are they supposed to do?

Alternate take on the nephilim baby, post 12x18

ao3 / tumblr

12x19: Come Back to Me

The worst part of all of this is that Dean remembers that look. Remembers the calm, cool certainty in Cas’s eyes when they’d first met. Dean remembers a chiseled piece of granite with ice chip eyes. And he’s nothing like the Cas that Dean knows. The Cas that Dean—

Cas gets kidnapped/brainwashed by a Nephilim. Dean isn't too happy about it.

ao3 / tumblr

12x20: Pick Me Up

By the time Alicia and Tasha have left, there’s a hand on his knee. Dean raises his eyebrows.

“I thought you had a date tonight.”

Max shrugs. “I’m flexible.”

Oh God. Not that Dean hasn’t used bad pick-up lines in his time, but that was pretty damn awful. 

Max tries a few moves with Dean.

ao3 / tumblr

12x21: Collateral Damage

He doesn’t realize that he’s crying until the words in the ASL dictionary blur so completely that it all looks like one big smudge. Before he knows what he’s doing, he’s pulling pages out at random and crumpling them in his fists. They flutter to the floor like snowflakes until they blanket a small circle around him.

Sam finds himself imagining what she would look like with snowflakes in her hair and sinks to the ground. Cross-legged, he sits among the snowdrifts and aches with every gasp for air. When the very last page is clutched between his fingers, Sam finally looks down.

Two signs. Like, and love.

Sam loses Eileen.

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12x22: The Last Man Standing

“It’s us.”

The picture is clearly ripped from the security cameras at the retirement home. Both of their backs are to the camera, but he’d recognize her bun anywhere, and it’s not like his large frame is easily mistaken for someone else.

“Friends and allies,” Sam reads aloud.

They’d gone after her first.  Because of him.

Jody and Sam talk about Eileen. 12x22 Coda

ao3 / tumblr

12x23: Sitting Vigil

“Dean. It’s not like that this time.”

Sam tries to be gentle about it, but it’s like pulling off a Band-Aid, isn’t it? The sooner Dean accepts that none of their usual tricks could possibly work this time around, the better. Chuck and Amara have wandered off on the weirdest family road trip ever. Crowley and Rowena are both dead. Heaven wouldn’t help one wayward angel. There’s nothing on Earth—or above, or below—that can help Cas. Not this time.

Post 12x23, Dean refuses to believe that Cas is gone.

ao3 / tumblr

[ladylilithprime]

41 and 79 + SPN ship of your choice!

41. First Kiss

79. Anger Born of Worry

You gave me too much freedom to choose, my friend....

IF IT WERE not such an unnecessary trapping of physicality to pace, Raphael might well have done so to alleviate their frustrated tension. They hated being left behind, sidelined, useless even if no one would dare to call them that to their face. Even knowing logically that one tiny seraph - more powerful now than when he was a cherub, a mere foot soldier - would draw far less attention sneaking into the Cage through a bespelled gap and attempting to sneak out again with a pair of human souls, knowing did not quiet the unhappiness at being left to wait and stew and worry as they did now.

The barrier around the space in Heaven designated as Raphael's private sanctum rippled at the touch of weaker, familiar yet unfamiliar Grace. Castiel. Quickly, Raphael adjusted the harmonics of the barrier to allow Castiel entrance, holding themself tightly controlled as the seraph slipped within and knelt, wings fanning open with the vulnerable undersides upturned in deference. "My Prince.... I have returned, though I fear my success was only partial."

"Explain," Raphael commanded, rigid with the effort to control themself, to keep from sweeping forward and wrapping the little seraph in their wings and check him over for even the slightest misplaced feather.

Castiel bowed his head. "As predicted, Lucifer had carelessly abandoned his vessel to the perils of the Cage, so focused was he on Michael. There was a moment when disaster might have struck when I discovered that Sam Winchester's soul had been separated from his body, but it was quickly found and reunited. Sam has been delivered to his mentor, Bobby Singer, as a precursor to reuniting with his brother."

Castiel paused, and Raphael fought down their impatience to keep from snapping even as he prompted, "And what of the other vessel?"

"Michael has retained his use of Adam Milligan as his vessel," Castiel said evenly. "He also maintains full access to Adam's soul, and showed no signs in the time I was there of being willing to relinquish either. I hesitate to speculate on his motivations but, given the amount of damage sustained by Sam in both soul and body, it is possible that Michael remains within his vessel as a means of protection."

"Protection," Raphael repeated, just barely holding back a biting scoff. "You speculate that Michael seeks to offer a human vessel, not even his true vessel but a mere spare, protection that he would not offer a member of the Host?"

Castiel hesitated visibly and Raphael found themself bristling in preparation for hearing something unpleasant even before the seraph said carefully, "In his mortal life, Adam Milligan was studying to be a doctor."

Well. Raphael had been right in supposing that they would not want to hear such a thing, the implication that Michael was transferring the regard he once felt for Raphael onto his human vessel while locked away in Lucifer's Cage, a space that millennia had made into the Fallen Archangel's domain more surely than he had ever held sway over any corner of Heaven. And because of that, because he chose to cling to a failed shadow of a resemblance, Michael denied his vessel rescue and return to his Heaven and his mother. It was not something Raphael wished to contemplate.

Fortunately, they had another avenue of inquiry. "You mentioned damage to Sam Winchester in soul and body," they said. "Did you not feel if prudent to bring him to be seen by, if not me, then one of the Rit Zien?"

The hesitation this time was weighted, and Raphael felt a curling of dismay and dread within their Grace when Castiel said, "As per your instruction to maintain discretion, I opted to heal as much damage as I could myself and placed a block around the rest until I could come to report to you. It felt... unwise to bring Sam back to Heaven after the treatment he suffered here at Zachariah's will."

"Zachariah is dead," Raphael pointed out. Castiel himself had slain the seraph when he had been just a newly resurrected cherub before Michael had directed he be cut off from Heaven and the Host for betrayal of the Plan.

"Many of his cohort still live," Castiel answered stoicly. "Not knowing who among the Host to trust besides you, I erred on the side of discretion."

"It would have been more discreet to bring him here with you than require me to descend to Earth," Raphael grumbled, shifting their wings, then folding them more tightly to their back when the traitorous appendages tried to reach out to enfold Castiel. "Nevermind. Present yourself that I may assess your state for injuries."

"As you wish," Castiel murmured, a hint of... something in his voice that Raphael couldn't quite parse. He obeyed this command without hesitation, shifting his stance and opening his wings to allow Raphael full access to his being. It was only when Raphael moved closer to inspect the seraph's wings and Grace that they realised the trap. Smaller and less numerous than Raphael's own, Castiel's wings were still swift and sure as they curled up and in, embracing the Archangel in the fractaled feathers much the way Raphael's own wings had nearly done.

Raphael trembled.

"I am unharmed, my Prince," Castiel murmured with a demure sort of deference that Raphael didn't believe for a second was anything less than a flirtation. "But you may certainly check me over for yourself if it will ease your mind."

Raphael did not deny him.

[ramajmedia]

Supernatural: 10 Times The Show Broke Our Hearts | ScreenRant

If you want to have your heart stomped on more times than you can count only to come back for more, then all you need to do is watch The CW’s Supernatural and you’re good to go. While it features monsters and demons, the show’s most memorable moments have been the emotional ones.

RELATED: Supernatural: 10 Reasons Why God/Chuck Is The True Villain Of The Series

Generally, the saddest scenes are those that concern the main characters being separated, or where they are in mortal peril. And yet, Supernatural concocts a creative array of ways to break our hearts, and you can find 10 of these instances on this list.

10 John Winchester's Death

The first brush with reality that we got from Supernatural was the death of John. Before this, we’d come to believe that the main characters only died temporarily, and this would be reversed. However, we were in for a rude awakening.

RELATED: Supernatural: 10 Times Destiel Was Canon

John’s death made it abundantly clear that we were on course for a lot of heartbreak on this show, and the sight of him lying on the ground with no signs of life will always be etched in fans' minds. The knowledge later on that John spent over a century in Hell being tortured by Alastair only shattered us further.

9 Dean Mourns Sam's Death

Our worst fears came true when we saw Sam bite the dust in the Season 2 finale. The flip side was that it wasn’t Sam’s death that broke our hearts, but Dean’s reaction to it. Dean’s one purpose in his existence was to keep Sam safe, but he witnessed his little brother get stabbed right before his eyes.

The truly sad part arrived when we saw Dean talk to Sam’s lifeless corpse as if he was still there; Dean was in denial and nothing could change his mind. Wracked with enormous grief, Dean went on ahead and sold his soul for eternity in Hell just so Sam could come back.

8 Dean Kills Himself For Sam

Dean’s penchant for sacrificing himself for Sam is never going to go away, no matter how old they both get. In Season 11, Dean once again put his own soul at risk when he died so that he could bargain with Billie the Reaper to bring Sam back.

RELATED: Supernatural: 10 Devilish Quotes From Lucifer

It started out with Dean breaking down at the sight of Sam’s body, then heading over to the local hospital to find pills to overdose on. The twist here was that Sam wasn’t even dead, and Dean had taken his own life for nothing. Fortunately for him, he was resuscitated and avoided heading to the Empty like Billie had wanted.

7 Jack Realizes Dean And Sam Betrayed Him

Poor Jack really got the worst deal when he burned his soul off to save Sam and Dean, only for the two to betray him and lock him in the Malak box. As it happened, Jack without a soul turned into a weapon of mass destruction, who mistakenly killed Mary Winchester; this brought the vengeance of Dean toward Jack.

RELATED: Supernatural: 5 Best Friendships (& 5 Worst)

Still, the innocent boy trusted Sam and Dean, and took their word that they were placing him in the box only temporarily until they could cure him. When trapped in there, Jack realized he’d been had, and broke down in tears as he realized the guys he thought of as fathers meant to trap him in this box forever.

6 Sam And Adam Fall Into Lucifer's Cage

Had Supernatural ended in Season 5 as Eric Kripke had envisioned, then this would have been the saddest thing ever to happen on the show. Despite that, we still remember when the finale had us believe Sam was trapped in Hell with Lucifer for eternity.

It was a perfectly executed scene, as Sam took control of his body back from Lucifer after remembering his love for Dean, who could do nothing but watch from his bloody and bruised face as both his younger brothers fell into the deepest part of Hell. In that one moment, Dean’s entire reason for living went up in flames.

5 Dean Realizes He Isn't In Sam's Heaven

Dean had always been insecure that Sam’s true wish was to be away from him. While he understood Sam’s problems with John, he hoped Sam would have Dean in his heart. Unfortunately for Dean, his worst thoughts came true and he realized Sam didn’t think of Dean the same way Dean thought of him.

RELATED: Supernatural: 10 Dean Winchester Logic Memes That Are Too Hilarious For Words

While Dean’s first memory in Heaven was Sam, Dean himself was nowhere to be found in Sam’s Heaven. Instead, he was heartbroken to see that Sam’s greatest memories comprised of the moments where he was away from Dean. In denial, Dean even tried to argue with Sam’s subconscious that he was his family and that it was them against the world. But a deeper part of him knew inwardly that this was just not the case.

4 The Leviathans Cause Castiel To Explode

The heartbreaking sentiment here is more meta than in-universe, as the fandom was distraught to find out that Misha Collins would be exiting the series for a long time following this episode. 

RELATED: Supernatural: 10 Biggest Twists, Ranked

This made it all the more saddening to see Castiel lose control of his vessel, and then traipsing over to a lake where his face was spilling black ooze. The fans’ last hopes of seeing Castiel emerge alive from the Leviathans’ grasp were extinguished as his body exploded and it appeared as if Misha Collins had walked away from the show for good.

3 Dean's First Death

Well, more like Dean’s first permanent death, but either way this one hit us the hardest. Supernatural had swerved over Sam’s death in Season 2 to give hope to the viewer that Season 3’s finale would have something similar happen to Dean, only to kill him off in the most violent way possible.

Dean would be ripped apart by a Hellhound, and all the while Sam was forced to watch his brother be torn to shreds. It was a horrible sight for any Supernatural fan, and one we still can’t watch without grimacing as we see Dean be reduced to a bloody pulp — and then he got tortured in Hell for 40 years.

2 Lucifer Drives Sam Insane

Sam Winchester is a fighter. Like his father and brother, Sam never goes down without fighting and you can count on him to keep his head high. However, Lucifer knows just where to land his punches in the right places, and he reduced Sam to a defeated, sad shell of a person.

RELATED: Supernatural: Every Season Finale, Ranked

It was dreadful to see Sam look so defeated. He had no reason to live, as Lucifer ensured Sam couldn’t even have a meal since he made him see maggots in his food. Seeing Sam's situation through his eyes, even the viewer wanted him to pass away so that his mental torment would finally end.

1 Dean Calls Sam A Monster

No matter what happened, Dean and Sam were the ultimate team. At least that’s what we thought until this moment happened. After an entire season’s worth of tension between them, Sam and Dean had an explosive confrontation over Sam drinking demon blood. Dean, always having poor choice of words, couldn’t convince Sam otherwise, resulting in Dean dealing him the ultimate emotional blow.

Dean called Sam a monster: someone who wanted to kill not because he thought he was doing it for the right reasons, but because he enjoyed it. Sam was hurt beyond measure at these words, before turning his sadness into rage and inflicting a bloody beatdown on his brother. The unbreakable bond was at last broken.

NEXT: Doctor Who: 10 Quotes From The Twelfth Doctor That Prove He’s The Best

source https://screenrant.com/supernatural-tv-show-broke-hearts/

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Sympathy for the Devil: Part One

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,195

Warnings: typical supernatural violence, language, angst, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: first episode of season 5! let me know what you think!

I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

This is it. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for. It didn’t matter who started what or what they did, what’s done is done. Now, it was up to you to try and fix it.

“Come on!” Dean yells.

He takes yours and Sam’s hands and pulls you away from the shining sigil. You turn away from the center of the room to escape this inevitable trap. However, as soon as you reach the door, it slams shut and locks. Both brothers reach for the door, but you gently push them out of the way to do it yourself.

“Let me!” you exclaim and get in front of them.

Your hands start to glow bright blue, and you place them on the door so that your magic can work through the kinks to get it unlocked. The rooms starts to get brighter, and you try to work harder to get out. If not, then the light will become too bright to focus on anything. Lucifer is coming whether you like it or not, and you’d rather be out of the room before he makes his appearance.

As the light gets brighter, a high-pitched noise starts ringing. It starts off barely audible before kicking up a few notches. The noise reminds you of when angels talk since it’s getting to be unbearable to listen to. You want to continue to open the door, but it’s too loud and bright to focus on it. You take your hands away from the door and place them over your ears. You close your eyes tightly as if that’ll block out the bright light.

Suddenly, things happen so fast, you don’t know what’s going on. One minute it’s bright and loud, the next it’s dark and quiet. You open your eyes only to see you’re on a plane. It’s full of people who don’t seem to notice that there are three extra people on board with them. You don’t know how you got here or what happened, but you’re thanking whoever for doing so. You’re sitting by the window with Sam next to you and Dean on the aisle seat.

“What the fuck just happened?” you ask in confusion.

“I don’t know,” Sam shrugs.

“Folks,” the pilot says over the intercom, “quick word from the flight deck. We're just passing over Ilchester, then to Ellicott City where we’ll make our initial descent into Baltimore—”

“Ilchester? Weren't we just there?” the older brother spoke over him.

“—so, if you’d like to stretch your legs, now would be a good time to—holy shit!”

The plane is knocked off course as a column of light shot into the sky. You look out the window to see the church you three were just in. The light shines brightly from it, and you have a feeling it’s all because Lucifer is finally free from his cage. The stewardess walking down the aisle is knocked to her feet, and that’s when people start to panic. The plane jerks to the right, and the oxygen masks shoot down from the ceiling.

You don’t even have to think about this next part because you’re the only one who can save everyone on board. Your hands shoot out on both sides of you, and your eyes turn bright blue. A forcefield ejects from your palms and circles around the plane. It’s enough to protect it and everyone inside just in case the plane crashes. You may not have been able to take care of Lucifer, but you can save everyone on board.

You’re really not in the mood to have people dying on you.

Before the plane even touched the ground, the pilot was able to get it back on track. You let him take care of the rest of the flight, and because you didn’t have any mode of transportation, you took care of finding something that will take you back to the last place you were at before the big fight.

Finding a car was easy, hotwiring it was even easier, but now that you got some silence, it wasn’t easy to process what the hell just happened. Sam trusted a demon, he let her manipulate him, he killed Lilith, and Lucifer escaped his cage. You don’t know how your dad, Castiel, or even Chuck are doing, so the only thing you can do is pray for the best.

“Governor O'Malley urges it's very unlikely an abandoned convent would be a target for terrorists, either foreign or homegrown,” a radio personality says.

“Change the station, please,” you whisper quietly from the back.

Sam happily reaches to the radio to switch the station. However, every station that he stops on, they all are talking about the same thing. The church is all that everyone can talk about. He finally turns the radio off completely, which leaves the underlying question of what started this all.

“Guys look—”

“Don’t say anything,” the older brother interrupts the younger one. “It's okay. We just got to keep our heads down and hash this out, alright?”

“Yeah, okay,” Sam sighs.

“First things first, how did we end up on that plane?” you ask.

“Angels, maybe? I mean, you know, beaming us out of harm's way?” Sam theorizes.

“It doesn’t matter because t's the least of our worries. We need to find Cas,” Dean sighs.

“I hope they’re alright,” you whisper to yourself as your mind fills with concerned thoughts of the angel and the prophet.

The last place you three were at is Chuck’s house, so it’s the logical reason that you would look there first. Even before getting to the house, you knew that what you would find wouldn’t be good. As soon as Dean pulls up to his house, your fears are confirmed. The outside looks fine, but one of the windows has its curtains drawn. The place just looks like a wasteland from what you can see.

You don’t wait for Dean to stop the car before you’re exiting it. You run up the steps and yank open the front door. All the furniture is turned over or broken, there are multiple holes in the wall, the TV is burnt to a crisp, and papers are scattered across the floor. The brothers manage to catch up to you, and they slow down when they realize the state the house is in.

There is no sign of Castiel or Chuck.

You take a few steps towards the kitchen when you hear a quiet noise. It’s the noise one would make if they’re trying not to be caught. If anyone was in this house, you want to be the one who has the upper hand. You have to be quiet if you’re going to scare them away. The next step you take hits a creaky board, and that sounds like it’s coming from a loudspeaker. Whoever is in this house took it as a sign to start attacking.

The person jumps out from their spot and swings something at your head. Instincts took over, and you use your magic to deflect the attack. The item goes flying through the air, only to stick on the wall. Who would use a toilet plunger as a weapon? You look at the intruder, and instead of feeling scared or panicked, you’re relieved to see such a familiar face.

“Y/N, Sam, Dean?” Chuck asks in shock. “So, you’re okay?”

“Why wouldn’t we be okay?” you chuckle nervously.

“My last vision made me think that,” he directs his next sentence to the tallest man, “you went, like full-on Vader. Your body temperature was one-fifty, and your heart rate was two hundred. Your eyes were black.”

“Your eyes were black?” Dean asks Sam accusingly.

“I didn’t know,” Sam sighs after a moment of silence.

“Where’s Castiel?”

“He's dead or gone. The archangel smote the shit out of him. I'm sorry,” Chuck informs.

The thought of Castiel dying to protect you and the brothers is enough to bring down your spirits. He shouldn’t have suffered for someone like you.

“You're sure? I mean maybe he just vanished into the light or something,” you try to have hope.

“Oh, no. He, like, exploded. Like a water balloon of chunky soup,” the prophet shudders.

“You got a—”

Sam points to his own left ear to indicate that Chuck had something in the same exact spot. He reaches up to feel around for the foreign object until his fingers brushed over it. He pulls the item away from his head to see what it is. When he realizes what it is, his face goes a little green.

“Oh. Oh, god. Is that a molar? Do I have a molar in my hair? This has been a really stressful day.”

“Cas, you stupid bastard,” Dean mutters.

“Stupid? He was trying to help us,” you say.

“Yeah, exactly,” he scoffs.

“So, what now?” Sam asks.

If angels put you on the plane, that means they know where you are. They know Sam killed Lilith and raised Lucifer, they know all about Castiel and Raphael protecting Chuck, so they must know about you and Dean. You made a deal that you’d play your parts, so now that Lucifer’s free, they will be coming after you. If you’re going to survive an army of them, then having the sigil that casts away angels might come in handy.

You rush into the kitchen to retrieve a knife since the sigil has to be made with human blood. Without giving an explanation, you start to carve your hand to use your blood. Your magic will help make the pain go away and make this whole process much easier.

“What the hell are you doing?” Dean asks.

“I have a feeling we’ll be seeing some angels. I think it’s best if we have one of those banishing sigils, don’t you think?” you explain.

You use the blood from your hand to create the sigil on the sliding door that separated the living room and the kitchen. You had to make a few more cuts to get more blood, but you were done with the sigil soon enough. After discarding the knife, you slid the door out of sight so that the angels won’t know it’s there upon first arriving.

“Oh shit,” Chuck flinches.

“What is it?”

“I can feel them.”

“Thought we'd find you three here,” Zachariah says from behind you. You turn to see him and two other angels with him. “Playtime's over, Dean and Y/N. Time to come with us.”

“You just keep your distance, asshole,” you growl.

“You’re upset.”

“Yeah, a little. You sons of bitches jump-started judgment day!” Dean yells.

“Maybe we let it happen. But we didn't start anything,�� he points to Sam with a wink, “right, Sammy? You had a chance to stop your brother, and you couldn't. So, let's not quibble over who started what. Let's just say it was all our faults and move on. Because like it or not, it's the Apocalypse, and we're back on the same team again.”

“Is that so?” you inquire and cross your arms.

“You three want to kill the devil. We want you three to kill the devil. It's... synergy.”

“And we’re supposed to just trust you? Hell to the fucking no.”

“This isn't a game, Y/N. Lucifer is powerful in ways that defy description. We need to strike now, hard and fast before he finds his vessel.”

“His vessel? Lucifer needs a meat suit?” Sam asks.

“He is an angel. Them's the rules, and when he touches down, we're talking Four Horsemen, red oceans, and fiery skies—all of the greatest hits. You three can stop him, but you need our help.”

“You listen to me, you two-faced douche,” Dean glares. He takes a few steps to the angels, but you stop him by putting your arm out in front of his chest. That wouldn’t be a smart move. “After what you did, I don't want jack shit from you!”

“You listen to me, boy! You think you can rebel against us? As Lucifer did?” Zachariah yells. His eyes flit around the room before landing on your bleeding hand. You could have healed yourself easily, but you want him to know just what you’re up to. It’ll make for a more dramatic exit. “You’re bleeding.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s a little insurance policy in case you pricks showed up,” you grin.

You pull on the sliding door, and the sigil is revealed to the angels.

“No!” Zachariah yells and lurches for you.

Before he can come within breathing distance from you, you slap your hand in the middle of the sigil. The angels vanish in a bright light, and you know you’re free for right now. If you’re going to figure out a way to fight the devil, you’ll need something to hide yourself away from the angels.

“I learned that from my friend Castiel, you son of a bitch,” you yell to the sky.

“This sucks ass,” Chuck groans.

Now that you have some room to breathe, it’s time to come up with a game plan—or a plan that involves you not getting killed.

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[kitchenwitchsuperwhovian]

The Things I Should Have Done

Pairings/ Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam, Castiel, Crowley. Bobby and the British Men of Letters (mentioned)

Summary: Final part in my series, There are Worse Things I Could Do. The reader is taken by Crowley and the Winchesters try to get her back.

Prompts: None

Word count: 4,830

Warnings: Angst, emotional upheaval, fear, anger, closure ending in a little fluff.

A/N: This is the final part to the original challenge fic, There are Worse Things I Could Do. Many thanks to those who stuck by me in this series. Also to my beta, @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid, for putting up with my lack of a soul towards my word-vomit.  @ekinsyikin, you get a tag because of your ask about doing a part 2 (and now a part 3) to my original fic.

*Italics are flashbacks* *

“Out with it Sammy. Did you find her?” Dean asks hesitantly.

“Dean, it looks like she’s...well she’s…” Sam stutters and stalls while trying to think of a way to soften the blow that’s coming.

“She’s what Sam? Where does it say she’s at?” Dean shouts in frustration and anger. 

“It says that she’s at the house that I was taken to by the British Men of Letters…”

Dean is stock still in shock as his heart races in fear. Sam was gone for a few days and look at the damage that was done to him and Y/N has been gone for six months. Six months of possible abuse, torture, and God knows what else. Cas and Sam look at the way Dean pales and takes a step back as if he was hit. When Dean bends down to take a deep breath to keep from hyperventilating, Sam and Cas are instantly by his side, picking him up and placing him in the nearest chair.

“What if she can’t be saved?” Dean tearfully asks Sam in anguish.

Sam can only try to placate Dean because Sam knows best that being held captive there for a few days was one of the worst experiences of his life and he was once locked in the Cage with Lucifer. Sam prays that when they do find Y/N, that she hasn’t been broken beyond repair.

BMoL Safe House

“Now, Y/N. What to do with you now that those pesky Winchester’s know where you are? I could just kill you or torture you to the point of you begging for death or….” Crowley trails off as a sudden inspiration takes hold.  “I know what would cause the most damage and finally keep those bloody bastards off my tail for good. Oh mummy dearest, you can come out now.”

“Fergus.” Rowena states with such disgust that it practically makes those in the room want to gag in sickness.

“I have one last task for you and we shall never have to see each other again. You can even have it in writing.” Crowley states in triumph as a spark of glee shines in his mother’s eyes before she narrows her gaze in distrust.

“Fergus, you have never done anything in the kindness of your black heart so get on with it. What is the catch?” Rowena asks in trepidation.

“I need you to take Y/N here and alter her perception of her relationship with the Winchesters. I want her to become enemy number one to the brothers and I don’t want the Winchester’s purse dog to be able to heal her with his grace. So anything that accomplishes that, long term of course, is good enough for me. What do you say?” Crowley asks with a smugness that rubs Rowena the wrong way.

“Magic like that takes a lot of planning and the right kind of spell to hold for that length of time. I may have seen something like it once but that book is now lost...correct Fergus?” Rowena asks Crowley with a smirk of knowing that makes him squirm in discomfort.

Little did Crowley know but Rowena still has the Book of the Damned. She secreted it away when the whole mess with Dean and the Mark of Cain went down which unknowingly released the Darkness from the Cage. The Book stated that in order for a curse to be cast, another equally harsh curse must be released upon the completion of the “cure.”

 “Fergus, we have a wee problem.” Rowena sings sickeningly sweet.

 “What could possibly been wrong now? The Winchesters are on their way, Lucifer’s child is free and out in the world, and I still have you to contend with.” Crowley growls at his mother in rage.

 “Fergus, shut it. This one is warded against magic. She may be poisoned currently by the Djinn we paid but there is no telling how long it will last.” Rowena huffed in annoyance as she prepared to walk out the room and away from her dreadful son.

 When the Winchesters and Y/N first met and worked with Rowena, Y/N had Castiel place an anti-magic warding on her ribs using some of Rowena’s blood and hair from a fight she was in earlier that day. When Castiel asked why, Y/N stated that the look in Rowena’s eyes when using her magic is the same look that Ezekiel had when he was trying to make his bid for more power. Y/N’s reasoning was that no amount of power will ever be enough to satisfy Rowena.

 “Where do you think you are going? We still have some things to do before those bloody boys come and try to ruin our fun. Just give her another dose of the poison and we can go. Who cares if she lives or dies as long as she distracts the Winchesters until our work is done. Now come on.” Crowley threatens Rowena as he drags her, fighting and screaming out of the house and off to finish whatever Y/N had stumbled across.

Three Hours Later

“Cas, can you sense if the warding is still up? Sam and I will circle around back to see if we run into any of Crowley’s lackeys.” Dean mutters angrily as he checks and rechecks his weapons.  Both custom guns are loaded with witch killing and devil’s trap bullets and his silver machete is strapped to his leg holster as Sam grabs the shotgun and his own machete before slamming Baby’s trunk closed.

“Dean, the warding is gone and I can sense Y/N but she is very faint. We need to hurry.” Castiel explains before he disappears in a small gust of wind.  “Dean!” Castiel yells from inside the house in a panicked shout that has Sam and Dean kicking down doors to find them quicker.  In the basement, a cot is chained to the floor and Cas is leaning over a small frame, trying to get a pulse. At the shocked gasps of surprise at the state of the body, Castiel looks up in pain as both boys rush to the bed.  

Sam is afraid that they were too late as Dean is shocked to see Y/N’s state of distress.  There are multiple slices across her arms and legs and a particularly nasty one from sternum to hip bone on her right side. It looks like she put up one hell of a fight against whatever Crowley did to her.  There is dried blood and glass in her hair by the right side of her forehead and defensive scratched on both hands.

“Dean, we need to get her to a hospital. I can’t heal her. Something is preventing me from healing her with my grace. We have to hurry because she’s fading fast. Dean!” Castiel shakes Dean out of his stupor and repeats that she needs a hospital.  Dean gently carries Y/N’s body bridal style out of the the house and places her in the backseat of Baby. He tosses the keys to Sam and gruffly tells him to drive.  Dean shakily gets in with Y/N and cradles her closely as Sam speed off into the night.

“Kid, you gotta be alright. We have so much to talk about and I have a lot to make up for. Just hang on sweetheart and don’t give up. Please.” Dean whispers into her hair as silent tears track down his face. Sam occasionally looks in the mirror at Dean and Y/N and prays to Chuck that everything will work out. Dean needs Y/N and if she was to die, Sam doesn’t know what Dean would do to get her back.

It seems like hours later (but it’s only been fifteen minutes), Sam parks in the Emergency Entrance and yells that they need help. A nurse and doctor ask what’s wrong as Sam makes up a story about their friend being in a car accident and how she won’t wake up. Dean and Sam are stopped at the entrance to the ER and are told to wait in the lobby, fill out her paperwork and as soon as the doctor is done with Y/N, she will be out to talk about her condition.

Three hours later, the doctor comes out of the ER with a tired and pained expression on her face until she spots the brothers pacing her lobby.  

“Relatives of Y/N Y/L/N?” Dr. S. Goodman asks out loud.  Sam and Dean stop their pacing and have a silent conversation as they walk over to the doctor.

“We are Y/N’s friends. She has no one left but us.” Sam states calmly while Dean nervously clenches and unclenches his fists, trying not to freak out and yell out his questions on how Y/N is doing.

“Come into my office down the hall and I’ll fill you in on the situation. Please.” Dr. Goodman directs the boys to the first office on the right and sits behind her desk sedately. “Please shut the door. I promise that it’s not bad news, as of yet.”

Dean gives her a funny look and Sam itches to grab his gun and start demanding answers.  Castiel pops into the office and when the doctor doesn’t freak out or flinch, the boys become even more surprised and a little suspicious of the doctor.

“Saranya good to see you although I wish it was under better circumstances.” Castiel smiles grimly at the doctor as she hugs him tight.

“I as well Castiel. So these are the Winchesters I take it and my patient is another hunter?” Saranya asks calmly as both Dean and Sam leap out of their chairs and aim their guns at the doctor.

“Dean, Sam, put the guns down. Saranya’s father was a small time hunter, mostly vampires until the British Men of Letters had him killed last year.  This hospital has a separate ward for hunters alone. She has seen many a creature related injury treated successfully here. So, Saranya what is wrong with our friend?” Cas asks as both Dean and Sam slowly sit back down.

“Y/N is suffering from Djinn poisoning however the scratches and cuts along her body are from a car accident. It looks like she hit her head on either the windshield or side window and was dragged out of the car across the broken glass. I found a couple of shards of glass still embedded in her skin. The thing I am worried about most is the poison.  She’s been under for three, maybe five days at the most but she has a newer puncture mark on her right arm that is most unsettling.  She was injected with a second dose of poison.”

“What does that mean, doc?” Sam asks as Dean’s hearing becomes muffled upon hearing that she was poisoned a second time by Crowley.  His hearing re-sharpens as Sam suggests that someone go into her dream-world and wake her up.

“I’ll do it. I can go in and wake her up. I just hope she is in the good dreams world not the nightmares.” Dean volunteers and is surprised when no one tries to stop him.

They decide that Y/N needs to be moved to a more secure room and while Dean is under the effects of the poison, he will be closely monitored in case there is an issue. Sam and Dean discuss possible ways to convince Y/N that the Djinn dream/nightmare isn’t real and to wake up by killing herself. Castiel and Dr. Goodman discuss her treatment upon waking along with any new information about the British Men of Letters situation.

“Now Dean, you’ll feel a pinch and the poison should take effect almost immediately. Castiel will link you to Y/N’s world so it’s up to you to find her and get you both out. Be careful. You don’t know what she’s experiencing but to her, it is as real as you and me.” Dr.Goodman gravely reminds Dean as he lays on the bed and gets the monitoring sensors attached to his head and chest.

Dean closes his eyes as he starts to feel the effects of the poison enter his system.  When he opens his eyes, he sees the map room in the bunker and Def Leppard’s Rock of Ages is blasting through the speakers.  Suddenly, Y/N comes sliding into the room and starts singing into her hairbrush, eyes closed and hips swinging as she belts out the lyrics at the top of her lungs.

“Y/N?” Dean asks as he cautiously approaches her with hands help up in a non-threatening way.

Y/N’s eyes pop open wide and she squeals Dean’s name before dropping the hairbrush and running into his arms. She hugs him tight and then surprises him completely by kissing him deeply and passionately.

They break apart to catch their breath and Y/N grins widely at Dean before placing a quick peck on his lips.  She takes him by the hand and leads him into the kitchen where pots and pans are sizzling and smoking on the stove.

“Babe, I’m glad you’re home early but is Sam okay enough to finish up without you? Last time you left early, Sam almost dropped that ‘75 Chevy on himself changing the oil. So, what’s going on?” Y/N asks while she stirs a couple of pots before grabbing some veggies from the cutting board and throwing them into the sizzling pan to cook.

Dean just watches Y/N bustle around the kitchen and lets himself momentarily imagine that this was their life. He and Sam work on cars while she’s at home waiting for him to come home. They have a normal life with everyday, normal problems. He hates for her to lose this dream but in the real world, she’s dying slowly.  So Dean takes a deep breath and prays that she can forgive him for what he’s about to do.

“Y/N, can you stop and look at me for a minute? This is really important.” Dean asks softly while gently turning her away from the stove.

She turns off the burners and chides him gently with hands on her hips. “Dean, it better be an apology for ruining the surprise dinner I spent months planning for our first wedding anniversary mister.  I even have Charlie watching Emily Rose for the weekend so we can have some alone time. I know that she’s our daughter but at three months old, I need a break before I shoot someone. So what’s up babe? You look so serious…” Y/N rambles as Dean quickly kisses her silent. The kiss lasts for a while as he puts all of his feelings into the kiss. He reluctantly pulls back and whispers that he is sorry.

“Sorry for what?” Y/N whispers against his lips.  She has a confused look on her face as Dean takes a deep breath and says that he’s sorry for what’s about to happen.

“Y/N, you were in a car accident and if that wasn’t bad enough, you were taken by Crowley and poisoned by a Djinn. Sam and I found you and took you to a hospital where Cas and a friend of his are trying to heal you. You know what you need to do to wake up sweetheart. You need to kill yourself.” Dean states sadly as he absentmindedly rub his hands up and down Y/N’s arms.

Y/N pulls herself away from Dean and faces the sink. Her head lowers and he hears her mumbling to herself.

“Y/N, you knew this was too good to be true. Come on, you knew that this wasn’t real. Dean would never fall for a girl like you. And this is all just a dream, a fantasy. You aren’t married to Dean and have a beautiful daughter. Charlie is still dead and you, Sam, and Dean are still hunters. There is no happy endings or happily ever afters in this life.” Y/N murmurs to herself as Dean steps close and pulls her into a hug.

“Thanks Dean, for having my back even though I left.” Y/N removes herself from his arms and grabs the knife from the counter as she turns to face Dean. She gives him a sad, resigned smile and gasps when she plunges the knife into her abdomen.She disappears and Dean takes the same knife and plunges it into his heart. He jolts awake as he hears Castiel tell Y/N welcome back.

Dean looks over at Y/N as she shakily gives Sam a hug and cries softly into his shirt. Dr. Goodman checks over Y/N and Dean’s vitals and assures Castiel and Sam that with a little bed rest and some antibiotics, Y/N should be discharged within the week. Sam thanks her and escorts her out of the room with Castiel so Dean and Y/N can talk in private.

Y/N shakily props herself up higher on the bed to get comfortable while Dean detaches the sensors from his person.  He’s about to say something but Y/N puts her hand up to stop him.

“Dean, I’m seriously exhausted and in pain so can we just not talk about what I saw in the dream until I’m a hundred percent? Then I promise to answer all your questions, including why I left and stayed away for so long.” Y/N exclaims while Dean can visibly see her energy levels drop and she has a hard time keeping her eyes open.

“Whatever you want sweetheart. Just get better and we’ll talk then. Sweet dreams, Y/N.” Dean whispers as Y/N’s soft snores echo throughout the room.

Dean lays his head back and just stares at the ceiling, thinking about everything he saw in Y/N’s dream world. They were married, had a little girl, and Sam and him had a garage.  The main thing that sticks in Dean’s mind is the fact that they were happy and in love.  ‘If it was her true feelings coming to life, then did that mean that she loves him and wants this kind of life with him?  And if she loves him, will she be okay if she finds that he doesn’t feel the same way?’

Dean drifts off to a light sleep as memories of him and Y/N flit through his dreams on an endless loop.

Four Months Later

“Ready for that talk sweetheart?  Doc Goodman said that you were good as new last week so I gave you an extra week to think about having this conversation. Don’t I deserve some explanation for your disappearing act? Or the fact that Crowley had to be the one to lead us to you? Or the fact that you could have died and I would have never known what had happened to you? Or to tell you…” Dean angrily states while pacing her bedroom floor.

“Dean, sit down. Your pacing is making me dizzy. And if you would shut up for a second, I could give you the answers you are looking for.” Y/N states in a calm and collected manner.

“So, to begin with I want to say I’m sorry. Sorry for running instead of talking to you both. And for not keeping in touch. I needed some time to come to terms with some personal stuff and I should have been a better friend.” Y/N stated softly while looking down at her wringing hands so she missed the wince Dean gave at the mention of them being “friends.”

“Y/N, no need to apologize. I get needing some space but please come to us instead of running away from your issues. I know that I’m the pot calling the kettle black at running away from the serious emotional stuff. But know that Sam and I are here if you need anything, okay?” Dean states calmly as he sits next to Y/N on the bed.

Y/N takes a moment to screw up her courage and tell Dean the main reason for her absence. As the silence grows, an obvious tension grows between the adults that makes both uncomfortable with unanswered questions.

“Dean, I need you to stay quiet while I explain until I’m finished or I’m never going to get this all out.” Y/N speaks in a somewhat calm manner as she holds Dean’s questioning stare. He nods his assent and motions for her to start.

Taking a deep breath to calm her racing heart, Y/N explains how she’s been slowly falling in love with Dean and feeling like less of a woman with each barmaid and waitress Dean takes back to the motel. The night she left was the final straw as Y/N realized that he doesn’t feel the same way and she needed some time and space to get over him. Dean’s face is a blank mask as a riot of emotions races through his system. The emotion at the forefront is guilt. Guilt for the way he made her feel like less of the awesome female she is. Fear and anger are a close second because he’s coming to the conclusion that he almost got her killed. And the last is regret because no matter how he looks at it, Y/N will get hurt because he loves her like he loves Sam, as family.

Dean realizes that she’s gone silent and is waiting for him to talk or say something to her declaration of love. Dean gulps around the regret in his heart and tries to speak a couple of times but always stops short of actually saying anything. With each minute that passes and Dean still doesn’t speak, Y/N’s expression becomes more morose and her eyes begin to fill with tears. Her quiet sniffle has Dean looking at Y/N sharply and he grabs her and hugs her tight as the dam breaks and she sobs into his chest.

“Sweetheart, I am so sorry for any pain I have unintentionally caused you. I never thought that who I hooked up with would make you feel less than the awesome, amazing and badass hunter you are. No, before you say anything, let me say my piece.  First, I am honored that someone like you could find things to love about me even though I’m broken beyond repair. Hell, even Sam has those days where he hates me almost as much as I hate myself.  Secondly, I….I’m sorry that I can’t be the one to love you like you deserve. You should have someone love you with every fiber of their being and when you find that someone, know that Sam and I will be happy for you. You are an important part of my family but that is all I feel for you. I know that you can’t help loving who you do but maybe with some time, it fades to affection.  Please remember that I am not intentionally trying to hurt you but I just thought that you should know upfront how I feel so you don’t get hurt anymore than you already are.” Dean murmurs into Y/N’s hair as he strokes calming circles on her back as her sobs turn into occasional sniffles. With a huge sigh, Y/N pulls from Dean’s grasp and sits back on the bed emotionally spent.

“Thanks Dean for being honest. I guess you really can’t choose who you love but you can choose your friends. In the spirit of being friends, I guess you’d like to know where I was for those six months, huh? I wasn’t hunting if that’s what you were thinking. I went to Bobby’s old shipyard and had a new house and garage built. I’ve been working my way through the junkyard, selling what I could so I could set up a new contact base for other hunters. I kept thinking about the huge hole in the network that Bobby left and so I started to reach out to other hunters about a possible replacement. My first choice was Garth but with Bess and the kids, they could potentially be in constant danger so I’ve taken over temporarily. About a week before you found me, I felt like someone was following me so I tried to head into town for cover but was in the crash about a mile out. The next thing I know, you are waking me from the dream world. Which reminds me, do you think that Cas can search for a proper replacement at the junkyard? I would do it but I think I still need a little time before jumping back into the hunting life, ya’ know?”

Dean stares at Y/N in shock as he realizes that even though she was gone, she wasn’t absent in their lives. She was still in the thick of things, trying to keep them safe and informed to the best of her abilities. Dean comes to the realization that he would rather lose her to the network than to lose her in a hunt gone wrong.

“Y/N, don’t take this the wrong way but you’re an idjit, as Bobby would’ve said. You did more for us hunters while working the network than in the last five years hunting.  Bobby would’ve been so proud of you for keeping other hunters safe so…..I can’t believe I’m gonna say this. You need to leave. You would be so much more useful to us as the main contact in the hub. I guess with the constant threats of the Apocalypse and dealing with the Mark and the Darkness, the network fell apart.  I mean just look at the cluster fuck that was the situation with the British Men of Letters. If we would have has the network running like before, we may have not lost so many hunters. We need you to be the glue that holds us together and maybe with some time apart, we can become better at being a family.” Dean says quietly while watching Y/N’s face for any kind of reaction to his little speech.

When Y/N does look into his eyes, he sees a spark that, if he was honest with himself, he missed seeing in longer than he can remember. She smiles widely and hugs him tight before running out of the bedroom, yelling for Sam and Castiel.

When both men holler that they’re in the map room, Y/N races down the hall and into Sam’s arms. She’s laughing hysterically with tears running down her cheeks as she keeps repeating the words, “I’m going to be the new Bobby!” over and over again. Dean leans against the wall, crosses his arms against his chest, and chuckles as the dumbfounded expression on Cas and Sam’s faces.

Dean steps into the room and explains what she has been up to at Bobby’s and how she will be taking over the network. Both men nod their assent and understanding and Y/N notices the wistful expression on Sam’s face.

“What’s going on in that big brain of yours Sam-I-Am?” Y/N teases Sam while hugging Castiel.

“You’re leaving us again. But I know that we could really use someone like you to keep the network strong. So I guess we’ll see you when we’re in the area then?” Sam asks with a smirk on his face.

“You better or I’ll personally drag you back by the ears and cut that glorious mane of yours.” Y/N states with malicious glee.

“I too am glad that you have found a place and purpose that suits you. And you seem happy but sad at the same time. I shall drop in to see to your wellness on occasion as well, Y/N. We shall miss you.” Castiel states stoically.

All three men surround Y/N in a tight hug and her last thought before packing and leaving the bunker is that this may be one of the best things she has ever done.

[drades-lair]

Trio of trouble

Author: Drade666

Rating: G

Pairings: None

Fandom: Supernatural

Disastrous, that’s what could be described at having 3 of the 4 archangels back in action let alone the fact they were now living in the bunker. Lucifer had returned to the bunker for the simple reason of it was the safest place to be after crap went south but he still needed to wear a suppressing collar, Michael agreed to certain terms to be released from the cage namely also wearing a suppressing collar engraved with sigils from the cage to keep his power in check, finally there was Gabriel…the youngest archangel simply wanted his family back together and despite the circumstances he had his family. Being back together did open old wounds between the 3 archangels however sometimes wounds need to bleed a bit in order to heal which appeared to be what was happening here although small spats would break out on occasion for the most part they’d argue for about 3 hours then storm off to their individual rooms, cool off and return to talk the rest out civilly. Now despite this angel therapy sometimes the Winchester’s couldn’t take their bickering 24/7 thus on occasion they’d send the archangel’s out on their own missions, Lucifer would grouse yet he seemed to really enjoy getting out of the bunker for a while, Michael instantly went into leader mode as if he were back in heaven as a general and Gabriel was the middle man the only one out of the archangel’s allowed to be free. Today was one of those missions where the three were out on their own, Sirens…apparently, however what they hadn’t expected was a trap. Angels are far sneakier nowadays then they used to be plus they were far more interested in hunting the archangels now (angels always need a direction to point their rage in) thus a trap was set and they were stupid enough to trigger it. A hand full of regular angels luckily didn’t stand even a ghost of a chance against 3 archangels but…what happens when they know that? Carefully the group managed to separate the three archangels from one another namely getting one at a time away from the group, starting with Lucifer. Quickly Lucifer found himself separated a few feet from his brothers by a group of about 5 angels who were closing in fast, wings arching Lucifer took his stance instantly blocking as the angels pounced at him sending the radiating sound of clinking metal slicing through the air from their clashing angel blades. Not at full power Lucifer tries to use his grace to attack the angels as well unfortunately all he could do was knock them backwards, slashing at the couple angels in front of him it caused Lucifer to lose track of the angels behind him. Gabriel stood back to back with Michael preventing the angels from separating them when Lucifer screamed in agony causing them both to whip their attentions in his direction.

“Lucifer!” Gabriel exclaimed

“Gabriel, watch yourself!” Michael barked as an angel attacked Gabriel from the right

“Ugh! Son of a bitch! Michael, we need to get to Lucifer!” Gabriel encouraged, shoving the angel whose blade had clashed with Gabriel’s off of himself.

“Fine, you’re the only one of us that has full power…can you handle it?” Michael inquired over his shoulder, busily holding off another angel who’d attacked him.

“No pro-blame-O,” Gabriel chimed with a smirk

Gabriel took a swipe at the group in front of him to make them back off for a moment then focused all his grace into the entire crowd. Instantly the angels started bursting into flames with screams of agony and those Gabriel couldn’t get Michael made swift work of until all of them were dead on the ground. Gabriel hit his knees with heavy panting breaths, wings sagging to his sides as he tried to catch his breath when Michael came to his side with a gentle hand on the younger archangel’s shoulder to help him up. Once Gabriel managed to get his balance the duo shot their attentions over to where Lucifer had been revealing the second eldest archangel now leaning against a nearby wall, breathing heavily as blood stained his left arm and one of his wings was held at an awkward angle. Michael was first to reach Lucifer however upon reaching a hand out he received a snarl from Lucifer who glared at him as well.

“Don’t…touch…me!” Lucifer panted out

“Lucifer! Don’t be that way,” Gabriel insisted finally taking a knee next to his wounded brother

“You fool! You let yourself get separated from us!” Michael barked back irritably

“Oh…right…it’s my fault…humph…good to see nothing’s changed!” Lucifer growled between heavy breaths.  

“You’re right, nothing has changed! You’re still the arrogant ass you’ve always been!” Michael scowled

“Pot…kettle…black…” Lucifer huffed a laugh before tipping his head back against the wall behind his back with a wince.

“You ass…Gabriel heal him so we can get out of here!” Michael ordered

“Michael…I…can’t…at least not right now,” Gabriel stated, the attack on the angels had drained Gabriel for the time being meaning he couldn’t spare enough grace to heal Lucifer.

“What? Well…then…remove the collar,” Michael suddenly looked a little panicked or perhaps it was concern finally forming on his features.

“I can’t do that either Michael, those collars are meant to hold archangels thus it makes sense that I can’t remove them.” Gabriel explained

“Ugh! Lucifer…if only you’d not gone off on your own…” Michael groused

“Michael! Stop it!” Gabriel barked as he placed a hand on Lucifer’s right shoulder

Lucifer had his head turned slightly to lay against the wall, eyes closed as he panted heavily with sweat starting to form on his brow. Michael actually did look highly concerned now moving to gingerly pull the fabric of Lucifer’s shirt sleeve up passed the wound to his upper arm, it was deep in the muscle causing it to spew blood down his entire arm.

“Gabriel, remove your belt,” Michael instructed instantly getting a confused look from the younger archangel yet he complied while Michael also removed his own belt.

Attaching the two belts together Michael moved quickly to secure Lucifer’s injured arm across his chest making the younger archangel exclaim in pain. Ignoring Lucifer’s pained cries Michael quickly removed the shoe laces from one shoe to use as a tourniquet just above the deep gash, turning his attentions now to the clearly dislocated middle wing on the same side. Luckily the dislocation was at the top joint right at the arch, one of the easiest to pop back into place so with a quick movement Michael skillfully relocated the joint but that made Lucifer jerk violently with a harsh scream of pain forcing Gabriel to hold him down. Michael stroked his fingers lightly through Lucifer’s feathers in a soothing manner only to notice that the wall behind Lucifer’s back was streaked with blood, furrowing his brow it made no sense that it would be streaked that far back from his arm injury. Gently Michael shifted Lucifer forwards revealing that his back was soaked in blood as well causing a moment of shock to run across Michael’s face of course immediately drawing Gabriel’s attention as well. Michael pushed Lucifer further forwards with Gabriel’s help revealing that one of Lucifer’s wing bases was damaged, spewing more blood then his arm wound indicating that the large vein that ran in each of their wing bases had been severed. Michael acted swiftly by having Gabriel assist him to lay Lucifer on his side so that he could get behind him, removing the other lace of his other shoe Michael also ripped a piece of his shirt off in a large strip. Wrapping the lace as tightly as possible around the portion of the base that was closest to Lucifer’s back, Michael tied it tight before taking the piece of his shirt to tie around the actual cut itself however he did tell Gabriel to securely hold Lucifer which he did right before Michael pressed his thumb against the fabric forcing it into the wound. Lucifer screamed in pain as the fabric formed a clotting agent to quell the bleeding a little.

“Alright, we need to get him back to the Winchester’s perhaps they can help,” Michael stated

“I hope so…but…will Lucifer even make it that far? He’s not looking to good,” Gabriel shot a sorrowfully worried look at Michael.

Michael looked down at Lucifer who had his head laying on Gabriel’s lap, panting heavier than before as sweat was running down his temples and he was mostly unconscious now. Michael had doubts about Lucifer making it as well however he needed to try, as much as he groused about his little brother in the end…they were family and a lot of things had been laid to rest between them already. Michael let out a deep sigh as he stood up then gingerly picked Lucifer up in his arms bridal style, already hearing his younger brother grousing about not being a child in his mind which briefly made him smile. Lucifer’s head was resting on Michael’s shoulder as the elder archangel took off with a single beat of his ten large wings, Gabe following close behind. Eventually they made it back to the bunker however Lucifer was even weaker by the time they arrived, blood stained Michael’s clothing from it having oozed from Lucifer’s injuries onto him. Gabe instantly started searching for the Winchesters while Michael took Lucifer to the infirmary, laying his limp unconscious body on his side on the treatment table in the middle of the room giving a gentle caress through Lucifer’s sweat soaked hair to move it from his face. Gabriel came rushing in with the Winchester’s hot in toe but they stopped short upon seeing Lucifer’s current state, covered in blood and unconscious.

“Holy crap! Okay…show us his wounds,” Dean exclaimed

“The wound that must be treated first is the gash to the base of his middle left wing, if that remains unchecked he will bleed to death!” Michael insisted

“Alright, alright, calm down….where is it?” Sam asked in a calm manner

Michael showed Sam the gash to Lucifer’s middle wing base on the left hand side which was still oozing blood at a pretty rapid pace. Sam looked up to Dean who was already grabbing the stitching materials that he quickly brought to Sam while grabbing another set for himself, Dean instructed Michael as well as Gabriel to hold Lucifer’s arms and legs just in case he jerks or reacts. The Winchester’s set to work stitching Lucifer’s wounds although it wasn’t easy especially for Sam who needed to first seal the vein inside Lucifer’s wing base before stitching the outside basically he performed a miniature surgery, using a scalpel to open up the skin over the vein a bit more, clamping the vein off on either side of the tare then stitching the tare closed. Finally Sam was able to stitch the outside skin of the wing base while Dean finished up the gash on Lucifer’s upper arm, pouring some alcohol over the freshly stitched wound receiving a whimpering moan from the unconscious archangel as he shifted weakly under his brother’s grasps. Finally everything was cleaned up allowing everyone to breathe a small sigh of relief as the boys finished bandaging the injuries, Dean tossing an ice pack at Michael to lay on Lucifer’s wing joint that had been relocated. Sam handed a damp cool cloth to Gabriel so he could clear some of the sweat from Lucifer’s face and cool him down a little before they consider moving him to one of the recovery beds in the corner of the infirmary. Once again it was Michael who lifted Lucifer up to carry him over to one of the beds, gently laying Lucifer on it then Sam worked to remove Lucifer’s shirts mostly by cutting them off considering they were already ruined anyways. They left Lucifer’s jeans on but removed his shoes as well as his socks simply to make him comfortable, stacking as many pillows as possible under both the wing Sam had to stitch closed at the base but also the one that had to be relocated on sight so they were level for healing better.

“Um…thank you,” Michael quietly thanked Sam as he was following Dean out of the infirmary, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Don’t mention it…you better keep an eye on him,” Sam suggested with a small smile before leaving the room as Michael nodded in agreement.

Gabriel was starting to look exhausted as he sat watching over Lucifer, eyes growing heavy until Michael placed a strong hand on his little brother’s shoulder. Gabriel shot a glance up to Michael who nodded towards the second bed next to Lucifer’s then smiled at Gabe as encouragement, Gabe took a moment to consider it then smiled back in agreement. Wondering over to the other bed Gabe laid down almost instantly falling into a deep sleep as Michael settled on the edge of Lucifer’s bed, casually glancing between each of the injuries, eventually settling on his face that he cupped gently for a moment before caressing upwards lightly through Lucifer’s sandy blonde hair.

“You know…I’ve never hated you…I always loved you, Lucifer,” Michael whispered, swallowing hard around the lump in his throat.

In the end Michael watched over both his little brother’s until they awoke hours later, Gabriel was able to heal Lucifer the rest of the way once his grace was renewed. Freshly healed Lucifer simply tended to the slightly delicate upper arch joint and wing base both on the left hand side using cold packs until the pain completely dissipated. In addition to all this from that point on the older archangel’s actually didn’t fight nearly as much as before in fact they appeared to get far better with one another much to both the Winchester’s as well as Gabriel’s delight.    

[theriverscribe]

Here is a writing prompt for BTGOG(by the grace of god)(if you do those) What was going through Raphaels head when he found Sam and was waiting for his brothers?

Fandom:  SupernatrualCharacters:  Sam, Raphael, Michael, Lucifer, Gabriel, Castiel, BMoLNote:  An alternative perspective to a scene from my series, By the Grace of God.  Enochian is in bold. Angel radio & thoughts in italics.

Story:  Healer, No Healing!

Raphael recognized the child’s cry asit tore through the universe.  It had been before the age of mansince last he heard an angel as young as this one.  But this was notthe bells and chimes of a giggling grace-child.  This was thescreaming crash of sharp and violent cymbals.  

The shock-wave slammed into him andMichael, stopping their return to Heaven.  Fragmented images offrozen fire and metal and pain surged through the sparks of gracefueling the energy cloud.  The cry called for faces without words,some of whom he remembered from before.   A name rose to the surfaceof the Healer’s memory, and he realized he already knew this child. Samuel Winchester.

Theyhad to act quickly.  The Host was in chaos, if the frantic voices ofHeaven were any indication, but they would be on their way soon.  Thebrothers shared a look, requiring no words to convey a thought, andflew directly to the distress.  

Itbrought them to the outskirts of a building that sat in anotherwise-empty field.  An intricate patchwork of Enochian wardssurrounded it.  Some carried the symbols of specific angels—namelyGabriel and Castiel.  “Impressive. Hmm,”the oldest archangel ran fingers over the wards and they dissolvedinto wisps, “Theywould not have stopped Gabriel even before they were half-shredded bythe blast.”

Raphaelwalked toward the building that held the glow of young grace,savoring the cool earth against his bare soles.  It grounded him increation, allowing him to move within it rather than observing fromafar.  The humans’ magic soaked into his skin, and whispered tales ofsorrow and malice.  He stretched out his grace, assessing the scene. “Two taintedsouls—one dimmed beyond saving and neither a threat.  The fledglingneeds my attention.  I do not know what these humans have done, buthis grace has been damaged.”

Regretand shame rolled off Michael in waves, and he paused to see hisbrother stop moving.  “Mypresence will only cause him more harm.  He needs…”his eyes grew wide and snapped up to the stars, “Gabriel! Father save us, what is he doing?”

Raphaelfollowed his gaze and saw them immediately.  Gabriel, bearing down onthe Earth in a blaze of glory, with a seraph clutched to him for dearlife.  “He isgoing to kill us all if he tries to land at that speed.  Go.  I willtake care of Samuel.” Michael flew before the words finished.

Anew voice spoke over the connection shared by all angels, and Raphaelheard the Host fall silent to listen.  The boy was awake and callingout to his flock.  With measured steps, he moved into the building.

Thetaste of fear soured his tongue.  Smoke billowed from holy firerecently doused, burning the archangel’s eyes and throat.  His graceresonated, slowly cleansing the space around his vessel so he couldcontinue forward unhindered.  Taking a deep breath, he began hummingthe same tune he would use to calm little ones in eons past.  Thelow, pure tone rumbled pleasantly in his new body and he hoped itwould soothe Samuel’s storm of nerves.  

Itwas like walking into Hell armed only with a song.  Flames and sparksreflected in rippling pools of water creating the illusion that theentire room was moving.  But all Raphael could see was small, roundface staring up at him in horror from the hard floor—a mess ofbruises and cuts draped in over-sized thin clothing.  

Ashe drew closer, Samuel tried to wrench his arms from the manacles,and brought his knees up.  Raphael saw the frantic swirling graceflare in agony as the boy’s mouth opened in a silent scream.  TheHealer responded immediately, flying into the cage and kneelingbeside the trapped fledgling.  His eyes flashed when they caughtsight of the collar and sensed it’s purpose.

“Peace,child.  You are safe now,”he reassured automatically in Enochian.  He wasn’t expecting theshocked reaction to his words, nor the flurry of motion when hereleased the bindings that held the raw wrists.  Sam rolled away,slamming into the bars and forced his body to its feet.  Raphaelstarted to move forward but was stopped by a ragged voice.  

“No! You stay.  Stay!”Sam ordered.

Raphaelraised his hands to calm the fledgling, “Youare injured.  Will you not allow me to tend your wounds?”

“No! No allow.  No touch!  Stay,”the boy demanded in broken phrases as he moved out of the cage with awarrior’s determination.  Raphael could only stare in confusion whenSamuel took the time to retrieve something off the floor.  It wasclearly a difficult and painful act, but he valiantly returnedupright brandishing a thin wooden rod.  “Whoyou?  Name!”

Unsettled,Raphael moved toward the cage door.  He could feel the pain pouringoff the young angel’s grace.  How was he even conscious, let alonestanding?  “Ihave never had a fledgling refuse healing.  Why choose to extend yoursuffering, little—”

Samuelcut him off in a burst of fury, “Inot fucking know you!”

Thepossibility of an angel not recognizing the Healer of Heaven hadnever occurred to Raphael.  He winced at his own arrogance and knewhe could not approach Samuel as one of the fledglings who had beenunder his care their entire existence.  There was a human soul woveninto their Father’s grace inside the tiny body limping across theroom—a soul shredded by Heaven and grace cut off from guidance by adamned collar.  

Pushingdown his own desires to act, Raphael conceded, “Myapologies, Samuel.”

“Youknow me?” Sam stared at him, openly suspicious.  

Raphaelcouldn’t tell if the boy had believed his identity a secret or if hedidn’t believe himself significant enough to know.  Both options werechildishly absurd, and the equivalent of a toddler who covered theireyes to hide.  He smiled down into the fierce scowling face, “Ofcourse I know you, child.  I knew you the moment I heard your cry. Our Father has not made a fledgling in many millenniums.  We have mettwice before, but only one time did I have a vessel.  I am Raphael,the Healer of Heaven.” He presented his wings, a traditional gesture for angels when theyannounce themselves.  

Samuelfaltered in fear and wildly searched the room for something.  “No,no, no…”he pleaded as his breaths became shorter and faster.  The femalehuman shifted on the floor as she started to wake up.  A few feetaway, the panicked boy froze in place.  Raphael finally felt able tointervene.

Heclapped his hands together, snatching the woman from the floor anddropping her in the cage beside the dying man.  With a thought, hepushed her consciousness down to a level where she would not rousewithout his permission.  Samuel jumped at the sound and watched ashis abusers were locked behind their own bars.  

“Youare safe, Samuel.  I promise no harm will come to you.  We will seeyou reunited with your family and caretakers, that is all.”

Hiswords only served to further aggravate the fledgling.  Thin armstrembled under the strain of holding the stick out.  “We?”he whispered, and Raphael understood.

“Michaelis currently intercepting Gabriel and Castiel.  They—”

“Why?!” The word was forced through a harsh cough.

Raphaelblinked, unsure of the outrage he was sensing.  “Whywhat?”

“Whystop them being here?  If you help, why stop them?”

Thesmile came unbidden to Raphael’s lips as he wondered at thedetermination each member of this tiny flock was exhibiting to get toone another.  He hoped Michael had better luck convincing Gabrielthat his charge was safe enough to slow their descent.  “Ah,yes, I meant ‘intercepting’ in the sense that he is providing themassistance with their re-entry.”

Clutchingthe walls of the hall with white fingers, Samuel made a face andcontinued to inch backwards on his one good foot.  “Whatmean?”

Raphaelexplained as he matched each step.  Seeing any child in such a stateof distress was tearing at his grace.  He tried to be reassuring ashe approached the skittish boy, but Samuel still looked like he wasexpecting Raphael to smite him.  “Ido not know what led you to become separated from your flock, butthey willbe here soon.” The promise was met with silence, and Raphael simultaneously cursedand marveled at the strength of will displayed in one so young.  

Theymade steady progress until Samuel tripped on twisted metal and landedhard on the floor.  Raphael moved on instinct when heard the wrenchedcry.  “No! Please no!”the boy begged and lashed out with the wooden rod.  

Itlanded on the back of his hand and Raphael pulled back.  Pain quakedthrough his grace and he felt anger burn lava-hot in his belly as herealized why Samuel had been holding it as a weapon.  To use such athing on a child was inconceivable.  

“Whatis that thing?”his voice came out gruffer than intended and he had to settle his ownemotions to stay focused on Samuel.

“It…”the small voice broke off, sounding lost, then continued in English,“It’s an Olive branch.  Noah’s dove brought a piece back to the arkfrom the same tree or something.  I don’t…”

Tearsstreamed down the flushed cheeks as the boy turned onto his belly. Raphael inhaled sharply at the sight of his back.  Grace seeped outfrom between thin shoulder blades, swirling sluggishly in a formlessmass.  He recognized the singe marks along the energy’s edges.  Itwas a common enough injury among soldiers who fought in battlesinvolving holy fire.  

“OhFather, what did they do to you?”he choked out.  How far had the world fallen that children were socasually brutalized?  How far had Heaven fallen that no one saw fitto intervene?

Acold, angry voice answered him, “Nothing I haven’t alreadyexperienced at your brothers’ hands.”

Thetruth sat like a boulder in the middle of his vessel, and he startedto understand Michael’s fits of guilt and sadness.  His knees foldedand he plead forgiveness.  “Iam sorry, Samuel, for my part in your suffering. Please, allow me tohelp.  What would be most helpful to you right now?”

Hazeleyes studied him, weighing the archangel’s worthiness to help.  Theboy’s decision made him want to weep.  “I…Igo outside,”he stumbled back into Enochian and waited to see what Raphael woulddo with the statement. The Healer lowered his head in acceptance andSamuel seemed encouraged by the gesture.  He continued, a littlebolder, “No fly. Only walk.”

Raphaelnodded and saw a little hand reach toward him.  Slowly, he stood andwrapped his larger hands completely around the oh-so-breakableappendage.  The show of trust overwhelmed him as he lifted Samuelgently onto his feet.  

Beingable to touch the fledgling allowed a closer examination.  Theover-sized shirt had slipped off one shoulder in the fall, and hecould see welts from a recent beating.  He grimaced at the smell ofburnt grace.  “Areyou certain you do not wish healing?  You have many injuries—someappear quite severe and painful.”

Hefelt the muscles tense under his grip and Sam violently shook hishead, spraying water from the tips of tangled curls.  “Noheal!”he insisted.

“Ipromise I will not heal you without permission.  Will you lean on meas you walk?”Raphael rushed to reassure him, though he had never before sworn tonotto heal an angel.  Again, he found himself surprised by Samuel’sresponse.  A timid smile tugged across the bloody mouth and theylimped out into the cool morning sun.

Inthe distance, the growing presence of the Righteous Man alertedRaphael to the incoming humans.  It seemed allthe members of the hybrid flock were approaching their location atspeeds that exceeded any safety limits.  Before he could announce thenews, he felt the boy’s body collapse.  

Wrappingan arm around Samuel’s waist to take hold of his other side, Raphaelwas careful not to touch the emerging wing buds.  “Samuel,”he began but the stubborn child shook his head.  A heartbreakinghalf-sob slipped past clenched teeth and Raphael barely resisted theimpulse to swaddle the little one in grace, “Samuel,if you refuse healing then you must rest.  You cannot continue tostand in your condition.” The body was weightless to the archangel, but he felt it start tosag and patiently waited it out.

Samuellurched forward without warning and Raphael couldn’t prevent him fromstepping fully on the burned sole.  Helplessness frustrated him as hewatched fresh tears pour over the face scrunched up in pain.  Gracetwisted, barely contained by the battered vessel it could feel butnot hear.

“Enough,child.”He kept his voice low and did what he’d wanted to do since firsthearing the boy’s cry.  He carefully lifted fledgling off his feetand held him close.  

Samuelwent wild fighting with all the effectiveness of an furious kitten. “No! No! NO!”he spat.  

Sharpteeth nipped against his arm and he tried not to be amused.  Instead,he just kept his grip on the flailing child gentle, but unyielding,and searched for somewhere to take him.  “Youare safe.  We will find a place to sit comfortably and wait for theothers to arrive,”a low growl sounded in the back of Samuel’s throat,  “Shh,the fight is over.  Rest now, you fierce fledgling.”  

Raphaelhummed a song to soothe the storm building below Samuel’s skin. Pinpricks of static sparked along his wings and he winced at thesensation. There was no denying the young angel’s powerfulpotential.  He found a bench set far enough away that the buildingdidn’t loom over them and released the squirming bundle of limbs. The boy quickly scooted as far from him as possible and curled in onhimself.  

Lookingto the sky, Raphael spied all three angels and was relieved to notetheir decreased speed.  Another check on the Righteous Man’s group ofhunters confirmed they should arrive at roughly the same time. Michael, do notland on the humans.  They are almost here,he silently sent to his oldest brother as he continued to hum.  

Itwas an amazing thing to witness the moment Samuel recognized thesound of the approaching car.  The chaotic grace settled its restlessshifting and sang with tentative hope that lit up the smudged andstreaked face. Raphael couldn’t help but laugh, “Ibelieve that is the human equivalent to how Gabriel and Castiel areapproaching our location as well.”

Thepeace was broken when another familiar presence appeared much closer. Raphael shifted his stance, prepared to protect Samuel.  The landingwas announced by an explosion of sound from behind the building andthe healer grabbed Samuel’s shoulders to steady him in theaftershock.  A small voice asked, “Was that…was that Cas andGabriel?”

“No,”was all he could say as he gathered his grace into his preferredblade. The silver staff thrummed in his hand, ready to defend thefledgling and his human family from the unpredictable newcomer.  Aman turned the corner and came to a stop in front of them.  Emotionspassed through the cold eyes, too fast for most to even notice, butRaphael saw each and every one. He had always been able to readLucifer like a book.

Samuelstared, radiating surprised recognition instead of fear.  With thecollar in place, there was no way for him to identify the archangelby his grace. There was an odd excitement in his voice whenaddressed the figure, “Vince Vicente?”  But as soon as theleather-clad vessel took a step and smiled cruelly, Raphael felt thehorror spark off Samuel’s grace.  The boy knew who stood before them.

“Ofcourse it’s you!” Lucifer proclaimed, “Seven and a half billionhumans on this decaying planet, and it is alwaysyou.  Why is that?”  He kept using sudden dramatic gestures,grinning in delight when they made Samuel flinch away.

“Lucifer,why have you come here?”Raphael drew his brother’s attention away from the shaking child withan honest question.  Why wouldLucifer expose himself to his newly restored brothers while wearing aweaker vessel? The archangel was already burning through this man’sbody—he was clearly outmatched.  

“What,and miss that ‘new feather’ smell?” he mocked, sneering at thechild leaning into Raphael’s hand, “Call it curiosity.  Every angelin creation heard him.  I gotta ask, roomie,” Lucifer used the wordlike a slur, “I neverheardyou scream like that.  What did they do that I didn’t, hmm?”

Angerrolled through Raphael at the crude taunts, knowing the heinous deedsthey referenced.  His wings snapped into place around Samuel as heroared, “Enough! Leave here, brother.” He felt the small body curl in closer, seeking safety against hisside.

“Andwhy would I do that, brother?”

BeforeRaphael could respond, a piercing pitch cut through the sky abovesignaling their brothers’ re-entry.  He suppressed his glee atLucifer’s dawning comprehension, but was silently glad to see thecocky attitude vanish.  It was good to know the archangel was stillcapable of fear.

Raphaellet it sink in, then answered, “Becauseour brothers are on their way.  Gabriel is eager to return to thischild—you remember how protective he is over fledglings.  It is inyour best interest to leave.  We can settle our differences anothertime.  Please!”

Hiswords went unheeded, and the Healer smiled at Lucifer as Michael,Gabriel, and Castiel all landed in an explosion of earth.  They bothknew it was over.  

*************

RiverRamblings:  Thank you so much for my first ever prompt!!  I hope this was along the lines of what you were hoping to read