So this is my first attempt at a FF and I hope that it turns out. I do plan to right more as I formulate an ending, and I hope to find time to write it. Please review and leave suggestions, it's all appreciated. This story is placed after Changing Channels and it ignores everything that happens on the show afterwards, just in case you were wondering. It follows Dean and Sam as they lead up to the Apocalypse and have to finally make their decision. It's up to them to save or end the world, so now only time will tell.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related although I give regards to the lovely people who created it for us.

Words of Silence

What is it they want from me?

What does tomorrow expect to see?

Why does the world spin in asking for salvation

When many don't know what it truly means?

And why is it my responsibility to save the world when I can't even save myself?

His heart beat impatiently within his chest, counting down the seconds to the end. Every breath left his lips as a marker of how many were left. The end was near, and soon it would be his turn to make a chose.

With every rotation of the tires Dean brought himself farther away from his brother and the growing sense of knowing that was eating him alive. Foreigner's 'Break It Up' was blasting on the Impala radio, resonating through every fiber of his being. He just wanted to forget, to leave it all behind and never look back. He just wished that for once in his life things were simple, just black and white.

Why did he have to be the one the world relied on? Why was it so damn important that he make his decision? Dean didn't want to be a vessel for anyone and he sure as hell wasn't letting Lucifer use Sammy. He wouldn't let it happen, he just couldn't. Sammy and him had made it through hundreds of things before by pushing the odds and this wasn't any different. They'd find a way to stop the Apocalypse, and wouldn't be the way everyone wanted. The Trickster said it would end with them, and so it would.

The tarmac rolled beneath the Impala, the moon a luminescent ball at the end of the road. Dean's eyes were focused on that moon, a destination far beyond his reach. He just wanted to escape the world that had become his cage. Dean just wished everything could be different, that none of this had happened. But that was always a short lived thought, for he knew the consequences attached to that wish. He knew that he would always be stuck in his own living hell; four walls of scarlet flames that licked and burned at his soul. He didn't know what was worse, the hell of the dead or the hell of the living.

Dean looked over at the empty seat next to him, sighing softly. Sammy. Sam was so naïve, yet so knowledgeable about the world. It was comforting at times, Sam's attitude towards life, but at others times he was reading to strangle him. Why did this have to happen to them? Three years ago they were happy, to some extent, but now Dean could feel the wedge that was slowly breaking them apart. He looked at Sam and he wasn't sure anymore about what he saw. He saw his Sammy, but he also saw a demon. He hated thinking that but he couldn't deny it. After what Sam had done, he'd always feel to some extent that Sam could turn again.

Dean looked back out at the road, resting his head on his palm propped up against the cold window. Where he was driving he didn't know, he just wanted to get away from the words.

"Sam, I told you I don't want to discuss it." Dean popped the cap off his beer, taking a long swig from the bottle. "I'm tired and I'm hungry, so please."

"Dean I just think it's about time we talk about this. You heard what the Trickster said. It'll end with us, it was always meant to." Sam stood in the middle of the room, examining his older brother.

"No Sammy, it won't. So the angels can preach all they want but neither you nor I will give into what they want. We'll stop the Apocalypse, but not this way you understand." Dean looked into Sam's eyes, his eyes dark and controlling. "You know how I feel Sam and I have nothing more to add." Dean broke his gaze away, turning to the fridge. He opened the door, sifting through what could barely be called a meal.

Sam crossed the room to the table positioned behind Dean. "You know we'll have to make the choice Dean, sooner or later."

"Yes, and I've already made my decision." Dean backed away from the fridge, a half eaten cheeseburger in his hands. He kicked the door shut with his foot, leaning up against the counter. "Castiel, Zachariah, Michael, they all know my decision, and nothing's going to change that." He paused. "And honestly Sam how can you even be considering this? We're talking letting Lucifer use you as a meat suit."

"And Michael using you Dean. We're talking Heaven and Hell here, not a jigsaw puzzle. This isn't something we can just forget about, discard, and come back to later. You know just as I do Dean that we can run but we'll have to face this sooner or later. We started the Apocalypse and so we must end it." Sam leaned forward, resting his hands against the cold oak. He looked down at them, sighing.

"You have something more to say Sam, so say it." Dean finished off the burger, his stomach rumbling. He wondered if he had left any food in the Impala but remembered he had finished it off that morning.

"I was looking through Dad's journal. Stop, before you say anything here me out." Dean shrugged, sitting down across from his brother. "I came across a name, Andrew Cole, and a series of dates. The first was the day Lucifer rose, the second's in two days, and the last one's next week. I think Dad knew about what was going to happen Dean, and these dates are when significant things are going to happen. If I'm right, this'll all be over by next Sunday." Sam looked up at Dean, waiting for an answer.

Dean let Sam's words formulate in his mind. "So, if what you're saying is right, my last day on Earth is a day when the bars sell the cheap beer. And even better, I can't get a girl worth my money on a Sunday."

"Dean could you please take this seriously?"

"I am taking this seriously Sam, and I think you're crazy." Dean stood up, crossing a few steps. "There are dozens of numbers in Dad's journal that we don't know what they mean. I mean you've been starting at that thing for hours every day, are you sure your brains not just making this all up? You know, you look at something and make it into what you want because you need an answer. I'm sorry Sam, Dad wasn't a psychic and even if he did 'know' about the Apocalypse don't you think he'd have told us. It's not exactly something you keep to yourself."

"Yes, but Dad wasn't exactly known for spilling his thoughts now was he? Look all I'm saying is that it's worth a look. We can find the guy and talk to him, ask him what the dates mean."

"And what if he's dead Sam, then what?" Dean placed the empty beer bottle on the counter, turning to look at his little brother. His comment left Dean's lips to sit uncomfortably between them.

Sam sighed at his brother's abrasive comment. "He's not dead Dean, I already looked into it."

"Of course you did."

"He's in Kansas, Richford Medical Centre." Dean shook his head, grabbing his jacket off the chair and starting towards the door. "Where are you going?"

Dean turned back to look at Sam. "I'm going to contemplate rather my father actually kept the Apocalypse a secret or if my brother's just a nut." Dean shrugged on his jacket quickly.
"I'll be back later, no need to wait up." And with one last look at his brother he left the motel for his Impala.

***

To think his father had known all that time and never said anything. Of course it was typical of John Winchester to do things on his own, but if he had just told them. If they had just known what their actions would do, maybe none of it would have happened. Maybe Dean wouldn't be speeding on an uncharted road hoping underneath it all that he would just die and it would all be over with. Michael couldn't possess his body if it was dead. But Dean knew that by giving up he was handing over to Lucifer exactly what he wanted, Sam and the world.

"You've got one week Dean."

The car swerved as Dean barely avoided colliding with another car. "Son of a bitch Cas! What did I tell you about popping in unannounced?"

"That it needed to stop and I should call you beforehand." Castiel sat upright in the passenger's seat, turning his head to look at Dean.

"Exactly, so why didn't you?"

"The battery ran out." Castiel looked back out of the window, avoiding Dean's gaze. "And I wasn't exactly sure how to fix that."

Dean shook his head, taking in a deep breath as he looked out at the road. "What do you mean I've got a week Cas?"

"You've got a week to stop it all Dean. I don't care how but you've got a week to make sure we win. Lucifer's been working on Sam and the guys good Dean, I'll give him that. It takes a really strong man to give in to him."

"What the hell are you talking about Cas?" Dean glared at Castiel, his thoughts racing. There was no way in hell Sam was giving in to anyone.

"You know what I'm talking about Dean, you've always known. It's going to end with the two of you, and rather it be Michael and Lucifer or not, you'll be the end."Castiel paused slightly, looking at Dean. "I think you need to listen to Sam and go check that guy out. It may be good to see what he has to say."

"Oh, so not only do you pop in while I'm in the shower but you also listen in on my conversations, wonderful. You know, for an angel Cas you're not exactly the most respective of humans." Dean paused. "What do you know about this guy?"

"Enough to not speak his name. Go see him Dean, then see if your decision changes."

"Yeah, that's likely." Dean looked over at Castiel, but he was gone-as usual. Dean thought about what Castiel had said, his words formulating questions without answers. What was so bad about this guy that Castiel wouldn't speak his name? There was even something on his face, a trace of fear maybe. But Dean couldn't be sure; Castiel didn't exactly have a wide range of emotions.

Dean slowly turned the Impala around, heading back to Sam. He'd take Castiel's word and go see the guy, but it didn't mean he'd believe him or change anything. Anything he said was just words, nothing more, and it would take a lot to persuade him to the other side. Dean had made his chose and he would stick to it until the end.

Everything's just words.

Broken, beaten, and whispered through cracked lips.

A lie can be truth when spoken right

And hope can be nurtured with chosen words

But what happens when the words are built from silence?

Thank-you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. If you did stay tuned and I will get to Chapter 2 as soon as I can. Please leave reviews.