Legion Part Two

[grianchloch]

“Where are we?” Michael asked Gabriel, puzzled at the blank landscape.

“Safe, for a while. Temporarily off Raphael’s radar.”

“Why did you save me? Why not let me die?”

“Because then there wouldn’t be anyone left to take that arrogant son of a bitch out.”

“I’m the same as he is.”

“No, you were the same. What if Dean was your vessel for a reason? That your true vessel isn’t a possession, but a melding? You’re different, and not just because you can’t stand the thought of killing Sam. You could have laid waste to the planet, gone along with the plan, with Raphael at your side, as happy as that fucker could ever be happy. But you instructed the heavenly host to spare humanity where it could. That would have been Father’s instruction. The only reason that the host follow Raphael is that you both had them convinced that the Apocalypse was the only way to achieve peace. But you had to know that was wrong. What if Dean isn’t allowing you to lie to yourself anymore?”

Michael stared at him.

“Not that Dean didn’t lie to himself all the time, but that’s a whole different conversation.”

“What happens now?”

“That’s still up to you. But if I was you, I’d listen to your inner Dean, see if he has any insight.”

“We need to save Sam.”

“Good start. It’s gonna be tough to find him, though.”

“He’s heading south.”

“How do you know?”

“I saw it in a dream.” Michael wasn’t ready to confess what he’d done to Sam when he’d first taken his vessel.

“Uh, angels don’t dream.”

“I know that, Gabriel.” Michael rolled his eyes.

Gabriel stared at him, not sure who he was seeing.

“Before we go, we need to arm ourselves. And we need transport. Being cut off from heaven, your powers will lessen. You need to conserve juice.”

Michael nodded.

“You ready?” Gabriel snapped his fingers and the small pocket of empty reality he’d been hiding them in split open. They stood in a warehouse full of shelves packed with every weapon imaginable.

“We need guns, right? I’ll go get us a car.”

Half an hour later, a police cruiser pulled out of the impound yard with a trunk so full of weaponry that it rivaled the Impala. Gabriel had thrown a couple of rocket launchers in there for good measure.

In all the time he’d been roaming the earth, he’d never thought that this was how it would end.



Sam shifted on the seat. He was too hot, could feel the sweat oozing down his back. Stupid fucking car never did have AC other than opening the windows and letting the hot air roll around inside it. Now he understood why they never drove south unless it was absolutely necessary. He shed all but one of the layers he was used to wearing in colder, damper climates. The thin grey t shirt that remained clung to him, sweat seeping into the fabric.

He hated the desert, but stared resolutely down the endless road they were driving down.

“Run, Sam.”

The angel wearing Dean’s face had told him to run, and the night before, he’d dreamed of Dean telling him the same. A strong instinct told him to keep going, and he wasn’t going to argue with it.

In the seat next to him, Castiel snuffled in his sleep. Sam wondered what he was dreaming about. Michael tore his grace from him with a savagery that left Sam reeling and Castiel had been drunk since then, unable to cope with the humanity he’d been cursed with.

Sam reckoned that not being able to feel would be a blessing right now. But he hadn’t got the luxury of being able to crawl into the bottom of a bottle.

“Run, Sam.”

Sam hoped that Bobby was okay. He wished he’d been able to reach the salvage yard, to lick his wounds in relative safety. Bobby’s was the nearest thing he and Dean ever had to a home, but bricks and mortar never really came into the equation. Dean was always his home. Pain tore through Sam’s chest. Losing Dean was never going to get easier, he knew that. It would always be fresh and raw.

Now, with the sigils gone from his ribs, he wasn’t safe anywhere, and he had to believe that by running in the opposite direction, Bobby would survive.

In the distance, a mirage appeared, a gas station and hopefully a diner. It wasn’t a hard decision to make, to pull over and refuel. The Impala’s tank was half full and the desert seemed to go on forever, so filling up was a practical move. Sam wasn’t hungry, he didn’t know if he ever would be again, but he understood the need to eat to keep himself going. He was too much of a solider to forget the basic principles of combat.

Soon, very soon, he was going to have to decide what to do next. He couldn’t run forever, but he wasn’t in a good enough position to put up a decent fight. He also wasn’t fool enough to think he could win, not caught in between Lucifer and Michael. He would lose, no matter what he did, but he was determined that when he did act, he’d take as many of the fuckers down with him as he could.

As the gas station became more than a dot in the distance, Sam glanced across at Cas. He needed the former angel with him, and lucid. He hoped that getting food inside him would help with that.

Five minutes later, Sam pulled the Impala over and parked up outside the dive of a diner.

“Hey, Cas, wake up.”

Sam shook Castiel’s shoulder. He stirred, but curled away from Sam. Sam shook him harder, giving him no option but to wake up.

“Yeah, okay, okay, I’m awake.” Castiel sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Where are we?”

“The middle of nowhere.” Sam got out of the car and stretched the kinks out of his back. He pushed the shades up the bridge of his nose and walked towards the door of the truck stop.

Castiel dragged himself out of the car, and stumbled after Sam. He reached into the coat he insisted on wearing, despite the heat, and pulled out a bottle. He tipped it up to his lips and drank down the last drops, scowling that there wasn’t any more.

Sam wandered inside and sighed when it became obvious that the air conditioning was bust and the ceiling fans only served to stir the hot air around. Cas slammed the door open behind him, and walked in, gazing around. Sam sat down at a table on the far side of the room from where the sun sneaked through drawn blinds. It was marginally cooler.

A blond waitress walked over to their table. Her name badge said Charlie and with her curly hair, she reminded Sam of Jess and a life he’d been forced to leave behind after she’d died. He sometimes wondered what would have happened if she’d lived, if Azazel hadn’t burned her up just like he’d killed his mother.

Sam didn’t smile up at Charlie, he was too burned out to care much about social niceties, especially with a woman who reminded him of a past he couldn’t have.

“What can I get you?”

“Couple of burgers, couple of beers?” Sam ordered for them both.

“And a shot of Jack?” Castiel added hopefully.

“Sorry, hon, no liquor licence.” Charlie dropped off their food order at the counter and popped open a couple of beers. She carried the drinks straight back to the table.

“Two beers.”

Castiel picked one of the bottles off the tray before she had a chance to unload them. He couldn’t risk the haze of drunkenness wearing off, not given the despair sobriety brought with it. Since Dean said yes, and the world began to deal with the fallout, Castiel hadn’t seen the need to care about anything much of anything but when Lucifer would find them, and he blocked that thought out by drinking.

They sat in silence as they waited for their food. Sam glanced around, studying the couple in the corner, and what he guessed was their teenage daughter who was trying to pretend she wasn’t with them. They were the only other customers. Sam glanced over to where the cook was finishing up with their burgers, and watched as an older guy walked out from a small office at the back.

“Eat something,” Sam growled as Charlie brought their food.

“Not hungry.” Castiel’s leg jiggled under the table, until Sam caught hold of it in a vice like grip and held it still.

“Eat something or I shoot you.” Sam’s stony gaze encouraged Cas to pick up the burger and take a bite.



“How do you know where Sam is?” Gabriel asked Michael again.

“I removed the sigils from his ribs.” Michael had the good grace to look sheepish.

“Ah, crap. That’s what you meant when you said he was still useful. You’re using him as bait.”

“I know now that I did the wrong thing. I’ve left him visible to heaven and hell.”

Gabriel shook his head. “Do you want me to drive?”

“No, I‘ve mastered the technique.”

“Good, now you need to master going faster, or there’ll be no point in any of this.” Gabriel made hurrying motions with his hands.

Michael scowled at him, but floored the police cruiser, heading in the direction he knew would lead to Sam.



Lucifer wheezed, gritting his teeth as he half sat half lay in the back of a Hummer that Meg was driving. No amount of blood was healing Nick anymore, and Meg cursed. She sped up, and the entourage that was following did the same, heading towards the desert.



Outside the diner there was a crunch on the gravel as a car drove up. The LA police cruiser that parked up next to the Impala was way off its beat. One of the men that got out walked around the Chevy, running a hand along her warm, dusty hood. Sense memories that didn’t belong to the being that now inhabited Dean Winchester’s body prickled. Michael snatched his hand away and strode purposefully towards the door. It creaked as he opened it.

Out of curiosity and a well worn sense of self preservation, Sam looked up to see who the newcomer was, to weigh up any possible threat and assess any necessary courses of action. But when he saw who it was, he dropped his burger back to the plate and pulled out his gun.

Castiel, his back to the door, looked up at Sam, eyes widening.

“Okay Sam, I’m eating.” He took a bite of his burger and talked messily around it. “No need to shoot anyone.”

Sam ignored him, slowly getting to his feet and leveling his gun at the newcomer.

The bored teenager who had been lounging in the corner booth, gasped and dropped her glass. It shattered on the floor, sharp shards and warm soda flying outwards from where it impacted.

Everyone turned to look at her, everyone apart from the tall man with the gun. The newcomer followed her gaze, and when he saw the threat, he pulled a gun of his own out, and pointed it at Sam.

“What the fuck do you want?” Sam spat, trying desperately to keep his cool despite being face to face with what looked like his brother.

“To save you.”

“Go to hell.” Sam fired without any further need for provocation. He knew it wouldn’t kill the angel, but it gave him a great deal of satisfaction to be able to strike back at the thing that had taken Dean from him. The shot grazed Michael’s shoulder. The archangel stumbled backwards, but regained his focus frighteningly fast and leveled his own gun at Sam. Without warning, Castiel slammed into Sam and sent him falling to the ground.

Michael strode towards the two men sprawling on the floor, his gun still aimed at them. Castiel scrambled to his feet, and stood between Michael and Sam.

“No!” He yelled, holding out his hands. “Don’t hurt him, you really don’t want to do that.”

“He shot first,” Michael seethed, warring with himself over whether he should shoot Sam or help him to his feet.

“Don’t you think he had reason enough?” Castiel found it hard to look upon the face of a man he’d called friend, and know that the being looking back at him wasn’t Dean anymore.

“Sam.” Michael clicked the safety back on the gun and inclined his head towards Sam.

“Bastard!” Sam yelled, suddenly on his feet and looming over the archangel.

Michael looked up at him, his eyes calm. “I owe you a debt of gratitude.”

“You owe me nothing!” Sam shouted and punched Michael, his fist landing on the angel’s jaw and forcing his head back. Sam strode out of the diner towards the Impala, not looking back at the diner and its occupants, who were staring with fascination at the drama unfolding in front of them.

“What did you think? That you could walk in wearing his brother’s face and he’d be happy to see you? Last thing you told him was to run, and we’ve been doing that ever since.”

“Why are you still with him?”

“Sam is my friend.”

The owner of the diner walked towards Cas and Michael, holding his hands up in a sign of surrender.

“Look, we don’t want any trouble. Can you take this outside? Well away from normal folk?”

“Outside won’t be safe for much longer.”

“What?” Cas shook his head, trying to focus on what Michael was saying.

“They are coming for him. All of them.” Michael gripped his bleeding shoulder. It stung and pain wasn’t something he was used to.

“Do you have bandages? His wound should be dressed.”

Charlie disappeared into the office, and emerged with a first aid kit. Castiel thanked her and sat Michael down at a table while he worked.

“Your vessel … Dean … shouldn’t be bleeding like this.”

“I received revelation, as did Raphael. The first time in so long that my Father has spoken, and he’s commanded Sam’s death.”

Castiel paled and his hands trembled. Michael reached up and put one of his hands over Castiel’s, but that only made it worse. It was Dean’s hand he felt, Dean’s face he was looking into, even if they weren’t Dean’s eyes looking at him.

“And you don’t agree with him?”

“I gave my word that Sam wouldn’t be harmed.”

“So now you defy our Father?”

“Dean gave himself to me so that Sam would live. I can’t be a party to his execution, nor can I stand idly by while he is killed.” Michael looked away, the anguish plain on his face.

“You’re cut off from heaven.”

Michael nodded. “I’m sorry I took what you had left.”

Castiel finished tending the wound and sat down opposite him.

“You’ve changed.” It was a tentative remark. Michael had never been known for his even temper.

“I believe that this vessel, Dean, is more than a host for me. All that he was is still here, helping me see through new eyes.”

Now it was Castiel’s turn to take Michael’s hand, and Michael tightened his grip, nodding his thanks.

Gabriel watched them from outside the diner then glanced over at Sam who had walked over to the garage adjacent to the diner and sat down in the shade.

He slipped away without saying a word to Michael. He didn’t want to build up hope where there very likely wasn’t any to be had, but he had to try.



Charlie watched Sam through the blinds. He was sitting in the shade of the garage across from the diner, looking over at the big black car that he and his friend had driven up in. Michael walked up behind her and she jumped.

“He’s just sitting there.” Charlie didn’t know what to make of any of them.

“He doesn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Why do you owe him?” Her curiosity outweighed her fear. She’d overheard talk of angels and God, words spoken earnestly, words that had rung true for all it couldn’t possibly have been.

“I took his brother away from him.” Michael watched the storm clouds gathering on the horizon then turned and spoke to the others in the room. “You need to leave, all of you.”

“You can’t order me out of my own place!” Harlan, Charlie’s boss, objected strongly to being kicked out, although secretly, he thought it might be a good idea to get away from the strangers with guns.

“You’ll be safe if you leave now. What they want will still be here.”

Although there were token protests, no-one put up much of a fight. Sam watched from his spot in the shade as the other occupants of the diner drove away in two cars.

Charlie sat next to Harlan as they headed towards the storm clouds. She shivered and glanced back as they passed through the storm and out the other side. She could have sworn she heard wings as they drove through the unseasonal rain, and wondered if the time had come when the fate of the world that her fanatically religious mother always talked about would finally be decided.

Michael looked over at Sam as they left, then walked back inside.

Castiel had found a bottle of bourbon in Harlan’s office and was busy pouring shots of it into a row of small glasses. Michael frowned, but picked one of the glasses off the bar and drank it down. Two more followed, and he wondered if it was what his vessel needed.

"Why’s he still out there?" Michael asked Castiel.

"My guess would be that he can't stand to see you walking around wearing his brother."

"He's vulnerable on the perimeter."

"Even Dean would never actually refer to Sam as vulnerable." Castiel's eyes widened at the reaction Michael would get if he ever uttered those words in Sam's presence.



Sam let himself into one of the trailers parked close by. There was nowhere else to go. Michael was in the diner and Sam couldn't sand to look at him. It was cozy in the trailer. Pillows littered the small bed, and there were drawings and sketches on the walls. He lay down, hoping that Charlie and the others would escape to safety and survive what was coming.

Sam pulled the quilt over himself and buried his head in the pillows. He’d been driving for two days straight and he needed to rest. His eyes closed and sleep caught up with him in no time at all.

Sam walked through lush vegetation. Tall trees towered over him, and sunlight snuck through where it could, dappling the forest floor with light. He walked on, drawn by a soft roar that wasn’t too far ahead. Under his feet the moss was damp and held his footprints long after he’d walked over it. The trees began to thin out, then he was standing out in the sunlight, on the edge of a wild coastline. The wind, a little more than a breeze, stirred through his hair, and across his face. He could taste salt, and recognized the roar as waves breaking on the shore. He hesitated before he stepped onto the sand.

Memories of a parched, dry dessert fluttered through his mind, but he could see that this was different. This time, the sand was cool, welcoming. He stepped onto it, and wiggled his toes, digging them into the moist sand. He began to walk along the beach, slowly angling closer to the water’s edge, taking his time.

Now, the sand was wet and dark, and when he looked behind him, he could see his footprints leading back into the trees. He moved on, close enough to the sea now that the chilled water lapped at his feet.

He stopped and turned to look out over the water, at the far horizon. As water began to lap his ankles, he realized that the tide had turned. It was soon up to his knees, and he took a step back.

Arms wrapped around him from behind and his breath hitched.

“Time to go, Sammy.”

“But I want to stay here with you,” Sam leaned back, closing his eyes.

“I won’t be here for much longer.”

“I don’t know what’s out there.”

“That’s the whole point.” Dean smiled against his neck. “There’s a whole ocean of uncertainty waiting for you. One day, you’ll find the surface.”

“Will I see you again?” Sam was forlorn.

“I’m always with you, Sammy, you know that.”

By now, the water was up to his thighs, and it wasn’t as cold as he’d expected.

“Close your eyes,” Dean whispered in his ear.

Sam did as instructed, and let the water cover him completely. Dean dissolved around him, wrapping him up in love and light and Sam slowly sank deeper and deeper into the sea.

Sam woke and blinked at the light for a moment, unsure of where he was. Then it all came back to him.

Michael was waiting in the diner. Sam didn’t know why the archangel was so hell bent on keeping him alive. It couldn’t matter to him one way or another. Sam sighed, rolled over and checked his watch. He’d only been asleep for half an hour. Hardly time to rest up properly, but it would have to do.

One way or another he wanted this over. His own options had narrowed down to fight or flight. Take off in the Impala, or stay and find out what the hell Michael was doing there. The storm that was fast approaching wasn’t natural, and it was headed straight towards them. It didn’t look good, and he’d rather know what was coming. Grudgingly, he left the trailer and walked back out into the sun, towards the diner.

The door swung open and a worried Castiel stepped out. He stopped when he saw Sam, and he smiled as he got closer.

“Where is he?”

“He’s through the back. Hear him out, Sam.”

Sam huffed out a breath, but strode through to the small office, where Michael was waiting for him. Back in the diner, Castiel decided to fetch whatever might be useful from the Impala and the car Michael had arrived in. It turned out that Michael had arrived with an arsenal. A handful of angel killing blades and a trunk full of guns and ammo. Some of Dean had definitely rubbed off on his brother, Castiel mused.



“What were you sorry for?” Sam demanded.

“For taking Dean away from you.”

“I might have done the same thing in your position,” Sam admitted.

Michael shook his head. “No, you wouldn’t. Neither would Dean.”

“How do you know what Dean would have done?” Sam looked at Michael, but he saw Dean.

“Your brother has seeped into me, burrowed deep into my consciousness, soaked into me and found me wanting.” Michael wondered if Sam could have done the same for Lucifer if his brother hadn’t been too far gone, too warped by his time in the cage.

“Dean’s part of you?” Sam paled.

“He’s become part of me, yes.” Michael moved closer and Sam found himself examining his face, not really sure what he was looking for.

“God wants you dead, Sam. But I can’t allow that to happen.”

“They’re coming for me?”

“Yes, but I won’t let them kill you.”

“You and who’s army?” Sam snorted.

“I still have faith, Sam, it’s all I have left.”

Sam shook his head. Three of them against an angelic army and Lucifer and his followers. He didn’t like the odds. He missed his brother, even though, in a way, he was right there with him.

“It hurts to look at you, to see his face and know he’s not there anymore.” Sam looked away from Michael.

“I’m sorry for taking him away from you.” Michael reached out and touched Sam’s face. “I know what you meant to each other.

Sam looked back, still not trusting him entirely. He blushed at the thought of Michael knowing exactly how it had been between him and Dean.

“I’m sorry,” Michael murmured again but this time, he was so close that Sam could feel the words gust over his cheek.

Sam turned his head and in the dim light, he pretended that it was Dean, his brother, his life. He closed the gap between them, pressed his lips against a familiar mouth. He wanted so much for it to be real that he kept his eyes tightly closed, waiting for Michael to pull away, but Michael didn’t.

Michael stilled, as if he was considering his actions. Sam whimpered, horrified at how needy and broken the small sound was.

But then Michael was kissing him and Sam’s world narrowed down to that moment. Sam’s hands clawed at the finely woven shirt he’s never seen before. Michael pulled it off over his head, hardly breaking contact. Sure and steady fingers unbuttoned Sam’s jeans and eased the zip down. Sam lost himself in the fantasy that it was Dean who was in control of the body in his arms and he bucked up into the contact as Michael slipped his hand down over Sam’s flat stomach and into his pants to palm his cock.

Sam’s fingers were shaking too much to return the favor so Michael did it for him, freeing his own dick. He pushed Sam hard against the wall, pushed his hard flesh against Sam’s.

Sam grabbed Michael’s … Dean’s ass and pulled them closer together but Michael took control back before Sam can react and pinned his hands over his head. With a sigh, Michael took both their cocks in one hand. He worked them fast, almost furious, mauling Sam’s mouth and letting loose a litany of arcane words when he came, biting down on Sam’s shoulder.

Sam convulsed, body shuddering as Michael’s hot release hit his belly. His own orgasm ripped through him and he didn’t try to stifle the sob that wracked him as his come joined Michael’s. Their bodies melted together, any urgency dulled for now.

Sam didn’t want to move, didn’t want to face reality. He could have lived in the fantasy for the rest of his days, the fantasy that it was Dean holding him, Dean kissing his neck, Dean running soothing hands down his back.

But that’s all it was. Fantasy.

Sam pushed Michael away, avoiding the blue eyes that should be green. He wiped himself clean and tucked away his spent dick. He watched Michael do the same, eyes widening at the sight of marks across Michael’s back and down over both his shoulders.

“Dean didn’t have tattoos,” Sam accused.

“They aren’t tattoos. I am soaking into him as he has soaked into me.”

Sam watched Michael walk across to the window and peer outside through the blinds.

“I will always wonder if you could have saved my brother, shown him the truth as Dean has shown me, but it’s too late for that,” Michael mused, almost to himself. “My arrogance made Lucifer what he is, my absolute surety that he was irredeemable. If I had known then what I know now …” He shook his head.

Rain began to splatter against the windows and wind whipped around the diner, rattling the doors. Castiel appeared at the door, holding out weapons.

“Lucifer. He’s here.”



Armed with two blades, Sam peered out of a crack in the blinds. The rain had ceased, but the cloud remained, blocking out the sun and turning day to night. He could see figures in the darkness, demons surrounding the diner.

“Why don’t they attack?” Sam asked. If this was how he was going to go, then he wanted it over with. They didn’t stand a chance against the force surrounding them, and soon, there would be more.

“Lucifer won’t want you harmed.”

“He has to know that I’m never gonna say yes.”

“If I know my brother, he thinks he’ll have leverage.”

“What?”

“I have to kill him, Sam. I have to fight him and I have to win. He’s arrogant enough not to consider failure, even though he’s weakened. If he can get the upper hand, he could use your love for Dean to force you to say yes. But you can’t let him do that. No matter what happens, you can’t say yes. For Dean’s sake.”

Michael pressed his lips against Sam’s, much to Castiel’s surprise, opened the door and walked out to meet his brother.

He was shocked to see how fast Nick was decaying around Lucifer.

“Lucifer.”

“Michael. It’s time, brother. You cannot deny me my true vessel. The only way to do this is if we’re evenly matched.”

“Sam will never say yes, and I can’t let you walk away.”

“Let me?” Lucifer scoffed. “You don’t hold any sway over me, Michael.” He snapped his fingers.

Meg and Reuben were immediately at his side.

“Find him and bring him to me.”

Michael stepped in front of them, but two demons grabbed hold of his arms and held him back. Shocked at how little power he had left, he struggled, but they held him tight.

As Meg and Reuben approached, Castiel stood firm.

“Clarence!” Meg smirked and rolled her hips as she approached Castiel. “Give me the boy and I’ll make you feel real good. You know that I can.” She winked and reached out to towards him.

“Don’t touch me,” Castiel spat and moved back.

“Aw, come on, you can’t keep me from dragging his ass out here, so why try? What’s it feel like to be all out of mojo?” she smirked at him and Reuben moved up behind her.

Lightening fast, Meg grabbed Castiel, holding a knife to his throat.

“Enough!” The door to the diner slammed open and Sam strode out. “Let him go, Meg.”

“Come over here, Sammy,” Meg ordered.

Sam reluctantly did as he was told. She shoved him towards Lucifer and forced him to his knees. Sam looked up at Michael, who stared down at him with sadness in his eyes.

Lucifer gazed at Michael.

“You aren’t yourself, are you?” He walked up to him and punched him in the stomach. Michael winced and doubled over, gasping for breath. “So the great warrior of heaven isn’t in Daddy’s good graces anymore?” He grabbed hold of Michael’s short hair and pulled his head back. “How does it feel? To be the bad son, the black sheep of the family? How does it feel, Michael?” Lucifer sneered and backhanded him.

Michael coughed, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

“How does it feel to be outnumbered?” Gabriel appeared at Michael’s side, snapped his fingers and the two demons that had been holding him disappeared.

Around them, the sky was suddenly filled with angels, who alighted and surrounded the diner.

“Gabriel,” Lucifer glared at his brother.

“You wanted to be evenly matched? I’d say looking at the two of you, you’ve got what you want.”

Gabriel stood in front of Sam as he got to his feet, shielding him from harm. He pushed him back towards Castiel, and stood with his arms folded. One way or another, he wanted this over and the heavenly host were there to witness it.

Michael nodded at Gabriel, but before he could move, Lucifer charged at him, pushing him to the ground. Anger drove him, and his fists flew. Again and again, he hit out at Michael, who squirmed away, hands raised to protect himself. He landed a blows himself, and the circle of demons and angels around them widened as they fought. Lucifer stumbled, but as his hand touched the dirt, his fingers curled around a tow rope left in a pile near the pumps. He picked it up, and kicked out viciously as Michael came at him. As Michael went down, Lucifer wrapped the rope around his neck and pulled tight.

Frantic, Michael struggled, pulling away only to be yanked back down again, until Lucifer had his knee on Michael’s back, holding him down. Michael’s mouth filled with dust as he struggled to breath.

On the sidelines, Gabriel held Sam and Castiel back.

“He has to do it himself. They have to see this.” He warned under his breath.

Michael’s vision began to blur, and he realized that he would lose and Sam would be at Lucifer’s mercy. He glanced across at him, saw the pain in Sam’s eyes at watching Dean get beaten, and knew he couldn’t lose.

He reached around for something, anything, that could help him, and his hand hit cold metal. He picked the crowbar up and bucked one more time, dislodging Lucifer just enough to turn and swing the bar towards his head. It landed with a sickening thud. Lucifer’s grip on the rope faltered, then loosened and he fell back.

Lucifer lay on the ground, an ugly wound on the side of his head leaking light into the pale dawn. He tried to push up on to his elbows, but he trembled and fell back. Michael approached, keeping the crowbar as steady as he could in a hand that was shaking badly.

"Finish it," Lucifer wheezed.

"No, It's not what He wanted."

"I don't want to go back," Lucifer gazed up at his brother, his eyes damp. "Please, Michael, end it now."

Michael knelt on the grass and cradled Lucifer's head on his lap. "I can't."

Lucifer grasped his arm, fingers digging in. "Please, don't leave me alone in the dark again, finish it now."

Michael shook his head.

"You can't condemn me to an eternity in darkness because you aren't strong enough to kill me. If you ever loved me, you’ll end it now."

“I still love you.” Tears rolled down Michael’s face as he looked up at Gabriel. The archangel brought him an angel blade then backed off, bowing his head. Michael put the point at Lucifer’s throat.

Lucifer looked up at him and covered Michael’s hand with his own. He nodded and closed his eyes. Michael took a breath and with a roar, slammed the blade into Lucifer’s neck, pushing it in to the hilt.

Sam and Castiel threw themselves to the floor. Gabriel spread his wings and covered them, shielding his own eyes as a blinding shockwave rippled out from where Michael cradled his dead brother in his arms.

Even before the death blow, the demons left, slipping away from the heavenly host, before the angels turned on them. But the angels waited.

Gabriel crouched down at Michael’s side. He put his hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“He’s gone. Let me deal with his vessel.”

Michael nodded and sighed as Gabriel and Nick’s body disappeared. Sam and Castiel walked over to where he sat in the dirt and helped him to his feet. His face was badly bruised and there were angry marks all around his neck. He let Sam support him as they led him back to the diner. The gathered angels watched them, and Sam was glad to shut the door once they were in, and hide from their inscrutable gazes.

“What are they waiting for?”

“They wait for Raphael.” Castiel helped Sam settle Michael in one of the booths. He slumped forward onto the table.

“And what are we waiting for?” Sam asked.

“A miracle,” Castiel whispered.

The door to the diner burst inwards, shards of glass and metal flying in all directions. Raphael strode in, followed handful of angels loyal to him.

Michael forced himself to his feet and stood in front of Sam.

“What are you doing, Michael?” There was disgust in Raphael’s voice. “Why, even now, do you try to protect this mud monkey?”

“What I must.”

“Then you will die, along with the boy.”

“The boy does not deserve to die.”

“God wants this!” Raphael thundered.

“It is not what God needs.”

“You’ve changed, Michael. You would defy your Father for one insignificant human?”

“No human is insignificant. This is my one true vessel. This human was made for me to inhabit, he isn’t simply a willing host I picked up by the side of the road. He is my father’s creation, and so I must believe that my Father knew exactly how my allegiances would change when I became one with him.”

“Are you saying that this human is controlling you?”

“No, but his humanity has seeped into me, and I see the world, I see heaven and hell, in a different light.”

“He poisoned you!”

“He opened my eyes.”

“So now you rebel against your Father to save one man?”

“Yes.”

Michael smiled to himself at the irony. Dean rebelled against his own father when it came to Sam, when it came to going against John Winchester’s orders to kill his brother, and now Michael would do the same. He would defy his Father to save a man who could have damned the world for all eternity.

At Michael’s confirmation of rebellion, one of Raphael’s followers launched himself past Michael at Sam, the wicked blade in his hand slicing through the air.

“No!” Castiel threw himself towards them, pushing Sam out of the way and deflecting the blow.

Distracted, Michael didn’t see Raphael move until it was almost too late. The angel had the advantage over Michael of having his full powers and Michael cursed inwardly at the lack, and the weakness of a human body that had taken a brutal beating. Raphael pushed Michael back until he was pressed against the counter.

“I gave everything for you, and this is how you repay my loyalty?” Raphael growled. “You side with them?”

“I side with what is right.” Michael struggled, but Raphael held him fast, bringing the tip of the blade up to Michael’s exposed throat. But the killing blow never came. Sam crawled forward just enough to slice at Raphael’s leg with an angel killing blade. Raphael growled, and kicked out at Sam, sending him sprawling across the floor, clutching his stomach where the toe of Raphael’s boot had caught him with full force.

Michael staggered away from Raphael, clutching a blade in his hand. He looked over to see Sam lying in a heap on the floor, knife in his hand, his chest heaving.

“Thank you.”

“I’ve got your back.”

“Enough!” Raphael shouted, and the angel that had Castiel pinned to the floor backed off. “You cannot save him. You are but one amongst many, Michael. If he sets foot out of the door, he’ll be torn apart.”

“No he won’t.” Castiel struggled to his feet and squared up to Raphael. “The host of heaven has followed Michael since time began. He is their leader, not you. None of them has seen God for a very long time, so they wait. They will not follow you unless Michael dies.”

“That can be arranged.” Raphael launched himself at Michael, but Michael dodged out of the way.

“Get him out of here,” Michael yelled at Castiel.

“No! I’m not leaving you,” Sam argued.

“I’m not him, Sam, I’m not Dean. Leave while you can. He would have wanted you to live.”

Castiel pulled Sam away. He opened the door to see a throng of angels clustered around the door. At the sight of Sam, they drew back.

“Why don’t they attack?”

“Because the decision hasn’t yet been made.” Gabriel landed among the angels, causing them to scatter. “Just as some angels follow Raphael, many still follow Michael. Enough of them to cause a rift in heaven if you are harmed.” Gabriel nodded at Sam. “Get him out of here.”

“No.” Stubbornly, Sam turned back and left the angels staring at each other. He ran back into the diner, stopping still with shock at the carnage in front of him.

Michael was on his knees and as Sam watched, Raphael plunged his sword into Michael’s chest. The archangel lit up from the inside, body spasming, jerking as he died. There was a blinding flash, and a shockwave radiated out into the night, felling everything in its path. Sam hunkered down behind the counter, only emerging once the light had faded.

Sam let out a strangled sob and fell to his knees. Everything they’d been through, everything Dean had given up, was all for nothing. Grief tore at him. Raphael had won, and would take revenge on mankind after he’d dealt with Sam. Sam looked up at the triumphant angel, ready for the killing blow to fall, defiant to the end, but knowing he’d lost everything.

Righteousness looked smug on Raphael’s face, but a light behind the angel drew Sam’s gaze upwards, and he fell backwards, sprawling, eyes wide.

Michael, wings wide and magnificent, landed almost silently behind Raphael who spun round to face him.

“No, it’s not possible. You disobeyed!”

“I gave him what he needed,” Michael smiled.

Sam was struck by the way it gave Dean’s face a look of serenity, something Sam had never seen there before.

“Michael?”

“I have work to do.”

With that, and a wink that made Sam pale as it was all Dean, Michael left, taking the host of heaven with him.

Castiel walked back in to the diner, his power restored just as Michael’s had been.

“I want to see,” Sam pleaded. “I’ve come this far, Cas, I want to be there at the end.”

Castiel nodded, then reached forward and touched Sam’s forehead. A second later and they were standing looking over a town which had been turned into a battlefield. Sam watched as Michael flew down from the sky, sword blazing, full of righteous power. He was beautiful and terrible. He turned, seeing Sam at the side of the battlefield, and saluted him.

As they watched, Sam asked if Dean could have survived being ridden by Michael

“He was Michael’s true vessel, so perhaps there is a chance.” Cas didn’t sound convincing, even to himself.



Part Three