In which the Apocalypse happened, but much quicker than Michael had been expecting.

I Dies Irae

When it comes down to it, was any of it really worth it in the end? Michael stares down at the burnt out eyes of Samuel Winchester, and at the back of his mind he feels his own grief mirrored by that of Dean Winchester's.

Oh, Father, what has he done? Lucifer asked him not to fight, pleaded with him, and Michael believed he had been bluffing; believed it was all an act. Michael had struck Lucifer — his little brother — down without a moments hesitation, and then what? Light, blindingly bright like the purest starlight even after thousands of years in Hell, poured from Lucifer, and then there was nothing. In less than a minute, Michael ended the Apocalypse, saved the world... and killed his own brother.

He can't bear the weight of Dean's grief. He lets the human's soul go to Heaven, where he knows Samuel, John, Mary — everyone the hunter has loved and lost — will be waiting.

But who waits for Michael? Who will be there for him, now that Lucifer is dead, Gabriel is dead, Raphael is cold and distant... Who?

Michael flies. He flies for days and days, never slowing, never stopping. The world continues to spin, and for what? Paradise did not come, Hell is not on Earth... What did the Apocalypse accomplish?

Michael flies for years. He sees stars and nebulae and galaxies and the ever continuous flow of Time, and still he cannot find what the point of all this was.

Michael returns to Earth one hundred years later.

Not a thing has changed, and yet everything has. Michael finds himself in a chapel somewhere. He kneels at the pew, head raised to the stained glass depiction of Jesus Christ on the cross. His Father, speaking through a human's actions on Earth. Jesus, the man who never killed. The man who would never raise a hand against his brother.

"Father... Help me."

No answer comes.

The choir sings Dies Irae, and it sounds like a lament.