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Unmaking, Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Dean settled into his new life (much like the old one, without the Internet or cell phones. Or Sammy, but he wasn’t going to think about that) with no real difficulty. He had Bobby and the road and a steady supply of hunts, and the occasional drop-in from Cas, and life was actually better than it had been in years. His family was safe and protected, there was nothing looming on the horizon that couldn’t be handled with research and rock salt, and he had more than one goal to take care of. For the first time in a long time, he was free.

A year passed this way, then two, marked only by his visit to Lawrence on November 2nd. On the third annual trip to Kansas, Bobby finally got up the nerve to ask about it, and Dean told him some of it: that he’d killed the demon responsible for his mother’s death here and he came back to remember why he went into hunting in the first place. Bobby had nodded, his mouth tight, and Dean made sure they got back into the search for the demon responsible for his wife’s death on November 3.

They were edging towards Dean’s three-year anniversary, looking into a potential nest of changelings, when Castiel appeared in their motel room, his usually impeccable suit and trench coat splattered with blood and smudged with soot. “It’s not safe here,” he said, grabbing both of them and transporting them to a dusty, familiar living room. The two men had just enough time to process the change in surroundings before the angel disappeared again.

Bobby sank down onto the couch, ignoring the slight eruption of dust motes that followed the action. “Why did he bring me here?”

“He probably brought us here because it’s a safe place,” Dean answered, looking around. He’d seen a dream version of this house once, back when it had been a home and not a hunter’s sanctuary, and it had pretty much been a less dusty match to this. “No idea what he’s keeping us safe from.”

“I discovered the plans my superiors have for you,” said Castiel as he settled a handful of items on a desk that Dean had never seen clear of books before.

He hurried over, catching sight of all three of his journals and Jesus, was that his favorite gun? He hadn’t seen it since 2008. “I’m guessing that they aren’t exactly something I’m going to enjoy.”

“The plan from the beginning was to free Lucifer,” said Castiel, and the angel looked like he’d had his entire world yanked from beneath his feet. It was the first real emotion Dean had seen on Cas’ face.

“That’s insane! I mean, really, seriously, ‘dingoes ate my baby’ batshit crazy.”

“They plan to bring about paradise on Earth.”

“By jump-starting the apocalypse?” Bobby interjected.

“Yes. The plan was to allow the seals to be broken with only a token resistance from the side of Heaven, allow Lucifer to take a vessel, and then the armies of both Heaven and Hell would fight until Hell was defeated. The battle would decimate most of humanity and a good portion of the earth.”

“And how did that plan go completely FUBAR?”

Castiel tilted his head, looking at Dean. “The plan was destroyed when you killed Azazel. That particular demon was the one who was setting the pieces into place. You were never intended to be successful in the task.”

“The Special Kids Deathmatch,” Dean said his voice quiet and hard. “So your angel buddies were planning on using the survivor to help break the seals. Hate to break it to you, but the reigning champion wasn’t going to go along with that plan.”

“The demon called Ruby was in place to make sure that it happened.” Castiel turned away and stepped to the wall, rolling up his sleeve as he went.

“I thought Lilith made Ruby go away.” Out of the corner of his eye Dean watched as Bobby left the room and headed into the kitchen, returning with a bottle. Dean could sympathize, even if he couldn’t join in quite yet.

“Ruby is Lilith’s creature, loyal to the core. Shortly after the hounds dragged your soul into Hell, Ruby came back into Sam’s life. It was apparently all very carefully planned out. Ruby was to take an attractive female host and get close to Sam. Its job was to guide Sam into breaking the final seal by doing exactly what he wanted to do.” The angel produced a knife from somewhere, cut into his arm, dipped his fingers into the blood and began drawing some sort of sigil on the wall.

“Except that I was back and in the way,” Dean argued. “I could have stopped him. And by the way, what’s with the blood?”

“We need to remain hidden from the other angels. And Dean, we’ll never know for sure if you could have held Sam back. Ruby was chosen for the job because she was very, very good at it.” He finished whatever he was painting on that wall and moved to another.

“Are Mary and John safe?” Dean slid a glance over at Bobby, still unwilling to bust his secret completely. There would be more explanations later, but he was hopeful that they wouldn’t all be spilled.

“For now. I do not know how the others intend to set their plans in motion, but they will need both you and your brother to do it.”

“I get the feeling you two haven’t told me everything,” said Bobby from his place on the couch.

“In case you missed it,” Dean said, “I just found most of this out myself.” He sat down next to his friend and wordlessly reached for the bottle. Bobby handed it over willingly.

“There’s more.”

“Of course there is,” said Dean, passing a hand over his face and rubbing at his temples before tipping up the whiskey for a swallow. “Let’s hear it.”

“The angel’s plans were not the only ones that were interrupted. Lilith and Alistair are searching for you as well.”

Dean took a moment to simply breathe. “Shit.”

“They will be very determined,” Castiel agreed. “And they have the help of other demons. I can hide you from the other angels, but there is no way to do such a thing against demons.”

“Are they close?”

The angel looked up from his work. “No. Angels exist outside of time, but demons do not. They don’t know who destroyed their plans, only that with Azazel dead they won’t be able to free Lucifer.”

Dean took a moment to process this. Keeping off the demonic radar shouldn’t be too hard, but it had taken so long to adjust to the idea that angels existed that the concept of hiding from them was still strange to his mind. Castiel remained the only one he’d ever met, and while they often disagreed he couldn’t help but have a grudging respect for the angel. Dude was badass.

“What does God have to say about all this?” Bobby asked. He was already on the way to getting drunk, the fastest Dean had ever seen such a thing happen with his friend. “Shouldn’t He be stopping it?”

“No one knows what Father has to say about this,” Castiel said quietly, his attention focused back on the sigils he was drawing. He was doing something that was apparently a delicate operation to the windowsill of the house. To Dean, who had been spending the last couple of years figuring out the angel’s facial expressions and how they corresponded to the emotions he wasn’t supposed to have, Castiel was practically screaming confusion and pain and possibly lost faith. “He is missing.”

“What, he just wandered off? Did he leave a card that said ‘So long and thanks for all the fish?’”

Castiel looked at him, his head tilted in an odd manner. “No. There was not a card. He is . . . unreachable.”

“Frigging great,” Dean complained. “I find out you guys exist, and then I find out that angels are just as big of dicks as the demons. And the boss apparently ran off to Tijuana. Perfect.” He took one more swig from the bottle before taking it back into the kitchen and dumping the contents down the sink. This was going to be hard enough without the added pressure of Bobby self-medicating. “All right. First things first, are we safe here? Will the wards hold?”

“The Enochian symbols will only prevent the angels from locating us. Something else will be necessary against the demons.”

“But they’ll hold against your dick brothers?”

“For now.”

Dean sighed and rubbed his forehead between his eyes. “All right then. We demon-proof this place, then we plan.”


It would have been surprising to an outside observer to see how quickly they managed to lay down salt lines and devil’s traps in a two-story home, but you didn’t become a Winchester without learning how to do such things in record time and Dean and Bobby had been on the road together for years now. The house was short-term safe, as safe as it could be made without some pretty major construction, and the two hunters were downstairs with coffee within an hour.

“You gonna tell me what’s going on?” Bobby said, his voice rough with whiskey and coffee and stress. “There’s something you’re not telling me, and I want to know right now.”

“Was planning on telling you, man. Eventually.”

“Talk or get out,” the other man ground out.

Dean nodded and leaned across the table, resting on his forearms. “Sam’s my brother.” He paused, took a deep breath. “Was my brother. The demon who killed my mother was targeting families with . . .potential.” He’d managed to work out that much on his own, mostly after the fact. “It wanted the children of those families to fight until only one was left in that generation, but we never really figured out what that demon’s end goal was.”

“And Sam died in the fight.” Bobby’s voice was matter of fact. He knew that Dean’s brother had died, that Dean had made a deal and gone to Hell for it, but Dean had never wanted to share the details.

Dean closed his eyes and saw that scene all over again, saw the knife going into his little brother’s back. “Yes.”

“And apparently the angels knew about all this.”

“Some of them did,” Dean said, feeling oddly protective of Castiel. “I think its pretty obvious Cas was in the dark about a lot of things. I’m guessing the rank and file angels were the little mushrooms of the higher-ups.”

“All right.” Bobby glanced over at the cabinet where Dean knew he stored most of the alcohol before turning back. “What was all the rest of that about?”

“Damned if I know. Cas told me about the seals and Lucifer, but the rest of it is news to me. Once I killed the Yellow-Eyed son of a bitch that killed my mother, they pretty much left me alone.”

Bobby shook his head. “Only you could manage to piss off both Heaven and Hell this much, just by being you.”

Dean grinned. “If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right.”

Castiel appeared from his sojourn in the basement, where he’d been doing his best to recreate the unbelievably awesome panic room that the Bobby of his time had built. It had been decided that he wouldn’t leave the house until absolutely necessary, since they would have to take down the wards for him to come back inside. “It is complete.”

“Awesome. Now sit down and tell us what’s going on.”

The angel perched awkwardly on a chair, the trenchcoat bunching oddly in the back. “I have told you what I know.”

“So why are the angels looking for me, exactly?” Dean leaned in and studied Castiel’s reaction.

The angel took a moment or two to reply, and that reply sounded oddly rehearsed. “There is a prophecy that states that only the righteous man can stop Lucifer’s ascent once it’s begun. They wish to keep you where they can keep you safe and hopefully control you.”

Dean had spent a lifetime having information withheld from him and could therefore tell with uncanny accuracy when he wasn’t being told the whole truth. “And?”

Castiel turned to the hunter. “Michael needs a vessel and you are the best option.”

This gave Dean pause for a moment. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“No,” said Castiel. “Archangels need certain conditions to take a vessel. Michael must stay within a specific bloodline. He also requires a certain . . .personality that will blend well with his own. You are the best match for Michael in more than two thousand years. Michael could inhabit you for more than a century without ill effects on either of you.”

“And the second choice for the position of Michael’s angel condom?”

“John Winchester is the closest there is in this time, but he is less than ideal.”

Dean supposed that he should be glad Cas had taken that conversation about keeping the time travel from Bobby to heart, but the load that had been dumped on him was more than a little distracting. “What if they decide to use him anyway?”

There was a second hesitation, more noticeable than the first. “When an archangel attempts to use an ill-suited vessel, it damages both the vessel and the angel. If the need is immediate and dire, Michael will risk it, but John can’t contain Michael for long. A month at most.”

“And right now Lucifer’s still locked away in his box, so that’s something we don’t have to worry about,” Dean stated. “All right. We need a plan.”

Bobby snorted out a laugh. “This I’ve got to hear.”

“Hey, that thing in Culloden with the ghost of the jilted bride was a fluke. I come up with awesome plans,” Dean protested, grinning. He’d needed the break in tension. The last few years had been good for him, way less complicated than his life had been since he’d been a kid, and this sudden unwelcome re-immersion into the world of crappy destiny and the politics of Heaven and Hell was like putting on a jacket from his teen years that was too tight around his adult shoulders. Hunting with Bobby was just so fucking easy, even when it was hard, and this apocalyptic bullshit had gotten old long ago.

“There is no way to plan for this.”

“Hey, you can plan for anything,” Dean said, standing up and getting a coffee refill. “It might not end up being a successful plan, but you don’t know that until you get in. What do the angels want?”

“You under their control.”


“Paradise on earth,” Castiel added. “They plan to defeat Lucifer and turn the earth back to the Garden, before Lucifer started twisting Father’s creation.”

“All right. What about the demons?”

“Revenge for the destruction of their plans,” Bobby said. “Sounds like you screwed those things all to hell.”

Dean smiled. “It’s a tough job, but someone had to do it.”

“They also might be able to sense that some of the seals have been broken, but they wouldn’t know why. Lilith in particular is likely seeking information.”

“Wait, some of the seals are still broken?”

“Once broken, always broken. They can be reforged by the Host with time and effort, but obviously that hasn’t been done.”

Dean frowned. “Cas, maybe you better tell me more about the seals.”

Once again the angel went quiet, pausing the conversation for several long moments. “There are more than six hundred seals, but only sixty-six need to be broken to free Lucifer,” he finally said. “Other than the first and last, the other sixty-four can be broken at any time, in any order, and it can be any combination of those six hundred.”

There was a lump of ice where his stomach used to be, and he could feel it growing. “Cas, what was the first seal?”

“You don’t need to know that.”

“Bullshit. What was the first seal?”

“The first seal was broken when a righteous man sheds blood in hell.” It was said quietly, possibly even a little gently, but all that managed to do was drive the words in even more deeply. “It was why they bargained so hard to get your soul in the first place.”

The ice spread up to his heart, freezing the breath in his lungs. “It’s all my fault. I started it.”

“You are not to blame. My superiors are at fault here. I was kept from raising you until you had broken the seal.” Castiel stared at him, unblinking, and Dean tried and failed to meet his eyes. “It has always been known that your family was destined to be at the center of this conflict.”

“If that’s the first seal, what’s the last?” Bobby asked, doing his best to shift Dean’s attention back to the matter at hand.

“Lilith. Her willing death at the hands of man after the other sixty-five seals have broken. The problem is that Lilith is the first demon, so old that even the Colt might not have killed it. And that is where Ruby and Sam came in.”

“Like hell I’m gonna let that bitch drag my brother into this.”

“Their plan might have succeeded if you hadn’t killed Azazel,” the angel reminded him, and Dean growled under his breath.

“Can we get back to planning how to avoid the apocalypse? You two can argue about all of this later.” Bobby glared at both of them before turning back to stare down at his coffee cup. “Idjits.”

Dean felt a corner of his mouth turn up, almost against his will. Trust Bobby to put things in perspective. “All right. I think we can all agree that neither side should get what they want.”

“Billions will die in the process,” Castiel said. “I would not see my Father’s creation so damaged.

“Like I’m going to trust you to do this without me,” Bobby added.

“Good.” Dean smiled. Anyone who had spent time around Mary Campbell, and then Mary Winchester, would have recognized this particular expression she’d passed down to her son. Someone, possibly more than one, was about to get an ass-kicking that would long be remembered.


It took a while before he could get away from the others. They were, after all, busily making plans and he was the one they both listened to, the one who knew both sides of the street. The process was made more difficult by the fact that Cas couldn’t leave without banishing himself from the house. It took getting Bobby embroiled in a discussion with Castiel about three separate dead languages for the two of them to be distracted enough for him to slip out the door.

He headed back toward an old corner of the yard that was mostly devoid of vehicles and entirely free of glass, mindful of the time Castiel had attempted to speak with him just after he’d come back from hell. He had no desire to pick out shards of things from his skin at the moment.

This was a monumentally stupid plan, top of a long list of similarly idiotic ideas he’s had over the years. Even Cas was moving cautiously when it came to this asshole, and the dude had once taken the demon-killing knife to the chest without so much as a blink.

But if this was a way to keep his family safe indefinitely, he had to know. If he let the chance pass by without looking at it more closely and John and Mary and little Sammy ended up hurt because of it, Dean would never forgive himself. “Michael,” he said, not bothering to raise his voice. “We need to talk.”

There were none of the theatrics of his first few contacts with Castiel: no rattling of surroundings, exploding light bulbs or shattering glass. Just an undercurrent of vibrations, more felt than heard. It was, Dean thought, like the sound an engine made when the standard transmission needed to switch gears. And then a voice that seemed to come from everywhere said, “I’ve been waiting to speak with you, Dean.”

Dean nodded. He’d never been on board with the God and angels thing, not like Sam had. Cas had managed to impress him with actions and an ability to ignore physical injuries, but his status as an angel had never truly figured into that. But Michael had a reputation, one even he had heard of, and now that he was really, truly speaking with the archangel the hunter felt a sliver of awe slip into his mind.

This meant, of course, that he immediately shot off his mouth. “Maybe if you dicks weren’t trying to end the fucking world, more people would talk to you.”

There was a pause, and Dean thought that the amused snort he sort-of heard was probably his imagination. Cas had proved pretty thoroughly that angels didn’t really have much in the way of a sense of humor. “Plenty of people talk to me all the time.”

“Are you really part of this plan?” Dean asked, trying for nonchalance but mostly sticking with simmering anger.

“Not the way Castiel assumes I am,” Michael said. “If Lucifer is freed and finds his vessel, I must fight him. Of all of us, I am the only one strong enough to return him to his prison. And to do that, I will need a vessel of my own. But if it happens, it will happen on Father’s time. Not Azazel’s and not Zachariah’s.”

“And if you could prevent the seals from breaking, would you?”

“Of course,” the angel replied calmly. “If it was Father’s will.”

Dean allowed himself to relax a little. “Better call him up, then. I’ve got a proposition for you.”


Castiel was waiting for him when Dean walked back into the house an hour later, and the hunter could tell that Castiel knew everything that had taken place outside. “You risk too much,” the angel said. “If one of the others had come instead . . .”

“Relax, Cas. Mike showed up like he was supposed to.”

“Just because your plan succeeded does not make it a good plan.”

Dean shrugged and headed into the kitchen for a beer. “Whatever. You heard what he had to say?”



Dean had never seen Cas sigh, but he had a feeling that the angel very much wanted to do that right now. “It could work.”

“Don’t overdo it with the compliments, Cas.”

“It’s still an incredibly insane plan, Dean. It hinges entirely on Michael, and he has always been very single-minded about duty and responsibility.”

“It’s gonna work, Cas.” He leaves off with that, not adding the part about how now it has to work, since he’d revealed his position to the angels. Dean had a feeling that Castiel already knew that.


“This isn’t going to work,” Bobby said, though he kept drawing out the symbols. “Calling them here like this is just going to get us dead faster.”

A less secure man than Dean Winchester would have worried about the fact that the two individuals who knew of this plan disapproved of it. As it was, he just shrugged and continued to add ingredients to the mix of herbs and other disgusting things that he was concocting. “If something is coming for me, I’d rather know when and where it’s going to be than try to be on guard all the time. This is going to happen eventually, no matter what, and I want it to happen on our terms.”

Bobby nodded like he hadn’t already heard this particular argument several times over the last few days. He had agreed that it was one of the few ideas that they’d come up with that had a chance in hell of working, and if Dean was willing to take the chance Bobby could do no less.

The only manly response to that was a slap on the back and a joke about Bobby turning into a girl, which got him an eyeroll and a slug to the shoulder as his friend walked away to start researching.

Castiel had left to gather supplies, since the angel-proofing he’d done on the place no longer mattered. The angel was still a little unhappy with the plan, such as it was, but was reluctantly on board with Dean’s decision.

It had all come together with almost frightening speed, almost like this was meant to happen like this. Materials that should have been hard to find practically fell into their laps, esoteric and little-known rituals that they needed were provided almost off-handedly by Castiel, and their playmates reacted exactly the way they were supposed to. It all fell into place so easily that Dean was starting to worry; things that were too easy were inherently suspicious to the hunter.

This could go very, very badly for him, in a multitude of ways, but Michael had promised that this particular course of action would keep John and Mary and their children safe. The Winchesters would have angels watching over them, just like his mother had always said, and that trumped any hint of personal jeopardy.

“It’s ready,” Bobby said, studying his work with satisfaction on his bearded face. Dean had a quick memory flare of what his friend would look like in twenty years if he could just keep Bobby alive until then, but pushed it back and concentrated on the matter at hand.

“All right then,” he said, squaring his shoulders and stepping into the circle. “Let’s step in front of the moving bus.” Dean closed his eyes, feeling a little ridiculous, and called for Michael.

The archangel had spoken to him several times now, sometimes answering Dean’s call about a question the man had and sometimes of his own volition, to point out a flaw in one of the steps of the plan that had taken shape. They had formed some sort of awkward, uneasy working relationship after the second such visit, which became a little more comfortable as things progressed. And during the course of this progression, Dean learned that he didn’t need to call out for Michael with his voice when his thoughts would do just as well.

The angel’s presence eased into his awareness, bright and almost too hot like noon on a sunny day in July. There was an unspoken question, the same one Dean felt more than heard every time he and Michael came into contact. He’d always refused before, and Michael had retreated with apparent patience and good humor. This time he steeled himself and answered, “Yes.”

Dean had never been possessed before, by demons or angels, but he had a good idea how it worked. The memories of what had happened when his dad and brother had been possessed were still vivid, but Sam had never wanted to talk about what it had been like, whether he’d been aware or not when Meg had taken over.

Michael opened Dean’s eyes and took in his surroundings. He could see his brother Castiel, tucked away in the clay that was Jimmy Novak. The connection between Castiel and Dean was obvious, a tether of light that bound the two of them together irrevocably, and Michael marveled at his Father’s plan. He knew that even now, there were pieces of this intricate puzzle that were snapping into place, pieces that no one but the Father saw coming.

He looked down and saw Robert Singer crouching just outside of the circle of oil. When their eyes met, the man nodded once, sharply, and lit the substance, forming a perfect ring around him.

Dean talked to him quietly while the next step took place, and Michael absorbed and cushioned the conflicting emotions that his vessel was experiencing at the mention of Lilith and Alistair. There was a familiar burn within his grace, the desire to dispense justice for his Father’s beloved children, but he tempered it with wisdom. His Father would deliver vengeance on his own terms, and while He might choose Michael to be the vehicle for those actions, it wasn’t the angel’s place to decide the when and where.

Castiel disappeared from mortal eyes, though Michael could see him easily enough as they waited for the next guests to arrive.

Neither one came alone, which didn’t surprise him. Dean made a joke about Lilith traveling with an entourage, which was funny once he’d reviewed Dean’s memories. They were a cumbersome group, all told, bodyguards and courtiers and personal servants, crowded around the form of tiny Leah Stuart.

This was the hardest part of the plan for him. The little girl’s soul was trapped, pinned close to Lilith’s corruption and aware of every action that the demon took using those tiny hands. He could easily reach out and soothe the pain of that fragile spirit, lull her into a state of unconsciousness until their business was concluded – if he wasn’t trapped in a circle of holy fire.

Dean was tense now, wary of the demons around them, and Michael wished he could cut off the flow of information traveling to the man. Leah was screaming in agony on a frequency only angels could truly comprehend, and Dean was struggling to keep thoughts of hell away. Castiel was having the same struggle with Jimmy, working to soothe his own vessel’s fear and revulsion.

Alistair wasn’t far behind the first demon, though his attendants were fewer and were fairly obvious apprentices. Dean knew the faces of those demons, though he wasn’t aware of the names they had once had. Michael could have named them, of course, both with the names they had been given as humans and the identities taken on in Hell. Alistair’s presence brought Dean’s memories of hell into sharp focus for a moment before Michael was able to direct his attention back to the matter at hand.

Lilith strolled up to Robert, the pink and purple beads holding Leah’s dark cornrows into place catching bits of sunlight. The girl’s mother had plaited her hair just that morning, a few hours before the demon clawed its way inside and snapped the woman’s neck. “I don’t like being called without good reason,” she said. “I hope you have a present waiting for me.”

Robert was afraid, justifiably so in Michael’s opinion, but he didn’t let it show. Instead he gestured to the circle of fire surrounding the archangel. “I heard you were looking for him,” he said, keeping his tone polite and conciliatory. Lilith liked to be catered to and indulged, built elaborate scenarios with it when she had the time, and the quickest way to get on her good side was a heavy application of flattery.

“I wasn’t looking for anybody, silly, but I always love a present,” she said.

One of the demons, in the stolen body of an artist named Andrew Parr, stepped forward at Lilith’s unspoken command, and Michael felt Dean start with surprise when he recognized the demon when seen through Michael’s eyes. The angel confirmed Dean’s suspicion and faced the one who had called itself Ruby in Dean’s time.

It didn’t break the circle, just walked the perimeter and studied Michael carefully. “Pretty sure it’s an angel, boss.”

“Really?” There was a parody of a delighted smile on the young face. “How did you manage to trap an angel?”

“Called it to its vessel and lit up the holy oil when it got here.” Robert didn’t bother to try for nonchalance or bravado, which was a good decision. “I heard you were trying to find out how your plans were disrupted and I thought this might get you some answers.”

“I’ve been waiting for a chance to play for a while now,” Lilith said, stepping in a little closer. “It’s been centuries since I could do anything with an angel. They’ve stayed in heaven and away from us.”

“He’s all yours.”

“Hmm. And what do you want in return?” The shrewd look on Leah’s face was incredibly out of place.

Robert swallowed hard and Michael could feel the pain that this had dredged up, hiding just below the surface. “My wife,” he said finally.

“So you want to make a deal?” Lilith turned her head to look at Robert, though she was didn’t move from the edges of the circle of fire. “Goody! I love deals.”

“The angel for Karen, here and alive,” Robert said tightly, and as Dean would say, that was his cue.

“I am not his to be traded,” Michael said, allowing some of his power to come out in his voice. “Nor can I ever belong to one such as you.” She was close enough to him now, and there was no point in delaying further. As Lilith took a step back, Michael stepped out of the circle of fire, made with ordinary lamp oil, and held her fast. He focused on the twisted corruption that was Lilith, trying to sink claws fast into the soul of the little girl trapped inside and drag her along when she was inevitably sent back into the Pit, but Michael would have none of that. A child such as Leah was cherished by his Father, not meant for the likes of Lilith and Alistair, and he had no intention of letting the demons have her.

Michael set his hand on Leah’s head and burned Lilith out with his Grace, locking her back into the pit so tightly that it would be almost as difficult to free Lilith as it was to free his fallen brother. While Lucifer would one day be freed from his prison, if only for a short time, it was his Father’s will that the former angel stay bound for as long as possible. When Lucifer once again walked the earth, it would be at God’s timing and not that of anyone else.

With that task cared for, he prepared to set the little girl’s soul free and send her Home, only to pause when Dean protested. There was a hurried conversation that took place in less than a second, since Michael could see Dean’s thoughts as the young man formed them, and Leah was placed in a deep sleep and gently placed to the side.

The other demons had not remained idle during this time, of course, but Castiel and Robert were working in tandem to exorcise them. Michael smiled and waded into the fray. It was time to be about his Father’s business. He had work to do.



( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
Sep. 21st, 2010 09:12 pm (UTC)
Michael seems to be the epitome of the 'Big Brother' here to me. I can totally see Dean connecting with him on that level and working together to achieve some kind of damage control caused by younger sibs. This chapter totally works for me. Great job! :)
Sep. 22nd, 2010 11:03 am (UTC)
Thanks! This was pretty much the Michael I wanted to see on the show, and since we didn't get him there, that's what fanfiction is for!
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )