RESET
a/n: this will not doubt soon become AU with the next season but this is the direction I would go….got the idea from something Dean said in the epi, "Hammer of the Gods" about how they (the hunters & the gods) needed to work together so they could get back to "ganking' each other like normal…a "Reset"
/Supernatural/
Summary:
A new checklist of the impossible awaits the brothers…as the scale of power shifts dangerously out of balance.
Heaven is closed and the angels have fallen, losing their grace and powers to Metatron's betrayal, to become but mere mortals to live out a life that is but a heartbeat to millennium aged creature.
A new war is brewing in hell between Crowley and Abbadon-threatening to spill out on the world as the angel's apocalypse of years before: And one trial stands in the way of closing the gates of hell, cutting off the demons playground on earth; at a cost Dean isn't willing to make—Sam's life.
But can such an imbalance between the two opposing forces be allowed to continue and at what consequence to mankind no matter what path is followed?
So much at stake…so much imbalance. Dean wouldn't mind seeing equally that "the black-eyed sons' of bitches" & "douche-bags with wings" both get locked away…but is the price to high, the consequences, yet to be determined, be to man's benefit or destruction. Would the closing of the gates of heaven and hell help mankind or lead to a whole new set of problems.
And if the choice comes to it, would Dean willingly sacrifice his brother to restore that balance? Could there be any other path?
And perhaps most important…lost amidst the struggles of the powerful and mighty…what of the souls?
/SUPERNATURAL/
Prologue:
They just sat there for the longest time…seconds, minutes, hours…time meaning nothing as they watched the 'comets'-hundreds…thousands of them, shoot through the sky. It was too much to fathom…to comprehend that all the heavenly host was cast out; that heaven was literally closed for business. Dean's mind danced with such a multitudinous of conflicting thoughts, points-counter points; he felt his brain would explode…so much was happening at once…so many choices…yet, .so few choices….
Watching the flare of light burn out as it hit the atmosphere, Dean's mind turned to wonder exactly what was hitting the ground. Angels were landing at Mach 10; BUT, landing as…what?-so much space junk…a burnt out corpse (and wouldn't that just cause a world-wide panic not seen since the Michael-Lucifer showdown)…a human form….would the angels essence simple find the first human meat suit to inhabit?
And of the angels already here…what had become of Cass when he learned of Metatron's betrayal; Cass, who was already in a dead human host. He dared not dwell on the fact that, as Naomi died for attempting to stop Metatron…had Cass died by the vengeful angels hand as well.
Sam's labored breathing pierced the fog of Dean's thoughts and he looked towards his brother in concern…the trials would kill him…Naomi had said, but she was the bitch that had manipulated Cass all those months…yet, there was something in her shaky tone, in her eyes, that spoke to the truth. Her methods were questionable, but she knew what they had been too blind to see; that Metatron was a lying, manipulative bastard…and they fell for the doe-eyed sob story.
For a brief moment his hatred for the angel lessened…she was doing what they all had been clawing and clamoring to do since the "apocalypse that wasn't"-just trying to hold on, to find some order in the chaos…to make things right; bring it back to some semblance of what it was before, what they all knew…what they were comfortable with. Ultimately what right did he have to judge, seeing his team's track record of "doing the right thing" was less than stellar.
Seems that they would forever be suffering some fallout or another from the apocalypse that wasn't…really, the things that fell out of the closet after that the prize fight had been derailed-Eve, the Leviathan's, a heavenly civil war, finding out about the Men of Letters…dragons and golems…the list seemed endless. Dean just shook his head in weariness; Mike and Lucy may be locked away but the consequences lingered…and as they laid one problem to rest another would crawl forth to do battle. It was like the whole universe was waiting to take a number to see how they could make the Winchester's life miserable.
But heaven was closed now…what did that mean exactly, Dean had yet to fathom: felt a little vindictiveness, despite himself, that they, the angels, were getting a taste of their own medicine.
But with his thoughts of the heavenly host his mind turned to the flipside…Hell. The angels wouldn't be plaguing mankind (but by the same token, they would be of little help) because there were still the demons to consider. Hell was still open for business…still using humans as meat puppets; and more importantly, hell was gearing up for a civil war of its own between Crowley and the recently resurrected Knight/Assassin of Hell, Abbadon. Dean knew, neither demon would have a problem bringing that war to the surface.
God, so much to think about…so much still riding on his and Sam's shoulders; wasn't the apocalypse enough? Dean snorted in disgust…because the answer to that was an obvious-"Apparently not".
Dean looked at his dozing?-unconscious…? Little brother and wondered if he would allow the sacrifice of his brother's life…again…for the sake of humanity…but perhaps more importantly-for the sake of some sort of cosmic balance…?
He didn't want to dwell on the thought…he wanted Hell closed with every fiber of his being…but at the cost of Sam's life…? And if they abandoned the quest, would Sam recover…Cass had said the trials were changing his brother in ways even he, an angel, couldn't counter…or comprehend. Would he lose his brother either way…if Sam was destined to die, Dean would see to it his brother's death would not be in vain…they would find some way to finish the trials.
Sighing heavily, Dean ran a hand down his face…but to consider finishing the trials, Dean knew the cost was still immense…Crowley had seen to that. If Dean wasn't so sickened by the senseless and horrific deaths of people he and Sam had already saved, that little piece of him that still remembered Hell, still savored his time as Alistair's pupil, would give kudos to the rather ingenious way Crowley had found to counter the brother's quest to close the gates of hell: reading those horrible novels of their lives…finding people they had already saved. Seeing Sam frantically try to reassure Sarah, knowing that it was in vain as the woman gasped her final breathes…the impotence and anger her felt as he found the hex bag just moments too late.
Dean shook his head and heaved another weary sigh…maybe it was fate, and damn if that just wasn't a kick in the pants to one who had so fought and rallied against fate and destiny; but in reality, those people should have died, would have, but for the arcane, mythical knowledge the brother's so willingly believed an embraced despite twenty-first century disbelief.
He likened it to the "Final Destination" movies…the characters dying gruesome deaths for side-stepping fate and not dying when their number was up. He saw the damage and chaos that wrought when one decided to try to play a game of one-upmanship against Fate and Death; when Cass had saved all those people destined to die on the Titanic…what a cluster-fuck that had turned into. Maybe, as Fate, Crowley was simply balancing the scale that the Winchesters were forever tipping to their desires…to their idea of what was just and right and fair in the world.
And then it struck him hard, almost taking his breath…did they have the right to do what they had done, planned to do; were they really any better than Lucifer or Michael, playing out a duel to the death without regard to the cost to humanity: or any other being, supernatural or otherwise, that was fighting for its survival…its way of life? They wanted life on their terms, and the rest of the world…demon, angel and human alike be damned for interfering or disagreeing.
Life is a balancing game…in order to recognize evil you need to see that which is good: to know good is to compare it to the depraved. But did the Winchesters know how to truly recognize either…yes, they had definitely seen and experienced more evil than any two souls should ever have to face in a million lifetimes…but even within that evil, there were degrees and circumstance to that evil…did they ever truly see evil for evil's sake. And goodness and purity…compassion and pity…all those things that give humanity its empathy…did he and Sam truly possess such traits or did they see the potential victims, the people they saved as just a trophy to be won in the war…never considering the consequences, either positive or negative, in their meddling.
Dean just shook his head again…to much had transpired…too many new, unanswered questions. As the saying went, "Rome wasn't built in a day" and so this new task set before the brothers would not be solved in anything less than blood, sweat, tears and pain in the days, weeks and months that were sure to follow.
Looking down tenderly at his brother, he thought, at least for one night, he had some answers…could soothe some wounds-tonight he could do what he was best at…take care of his baby brother…