Dean slept. He was in another nameless motel room, with the same double beds and the same crappy thin walls, with his brother, Sam, in the bed beside him. The dull lights and sounds wafting from the street through the walls of the small skanky room did nothing to disturb Dean. He was too far-gone, his mind finally allowing his body to face the exhaustion that had been creeping up on him since he dug himself out of his own grave.

Everything was piling up on itself, one right after another without getting the chance to find its barring. He went from believing he was doomed to an eternity in hell, to finding out he was destined to be the vessel of Michael, the archangel, which to Dean, wasn't exactly a better a deal. And to make matters worse, he wasn't just a vessel, he was the vessel. Though some would find his fate to be one of honor, Dean just thought it was a huge kick in the pants to know that the angels only wanted him, not for his years of experience or sense of justice, but for his body. How insulting. How degrading! Being a meat suit to some dick angel was not his style. Dean was nobody's bitch.

But now Dean slept. His body was relaxed; his breathing even, and the previous day's events never seemed to cross his mind. He was dreaming of pleasant things, warm things which were a refreshing relief to his troubled mind. He dreamt of a warm summer day under the hood of his impala, a cool breeze balancing out the summer heat. He stood up straight and wiped his oil covered hands on an old cloth before shutting the hood of the car with a thundering slam. His car gleamed in the sun, its black glossy finish reflecting the shining sun which was high in the sky. Beyond the car was a quaint suburban home, fully equipped with a lush green lawn, a white picket fence and the sound of children playing down the street. The green shutters, open wide, allowed the music playing inside to flow to were he was working.

"Dean!" a voice called out. When he looked up towards the source his eyes met with smoldering chocolate browns that belonged to Jo. She was smiling down at him, her beautiful golden hair shining in the sun as she stood in the open doorway of the home he knew was there's. He could feel his smile falling into place. Jo, always a vision, was wearing a simple grey t-shit, jeans, and an army green jacket.

"Yeah?" he called back, wiping his brow of perspiration. Keeping his baby running was hard work.

"It's just about time for supper, Dean. The Family is going to arrive any time now. Are you going to start up the barbecue or what?"

Of course, the barbecue. How could he have forgotten? "Right, yeah, aw, be up in a minute."

"Okay," she replied and returned to the house.

As if in the blink of an eye, Dean was at the grill, cooking a little bit of everything: burgers, steak, hotdogs, you name it. Tonight he was cooking a feast fit for a king. Tonight was special after all He could feel it.

Soon Jo came out of the house with a tray of fruit and a bowl of salad.

"Foods almost ready," Dean announced not looking up but knowing she was there.

"Good, because everyone is here!" she answered back. When Dean turned around, there they were, sitting at a table all set and ready for his feast.

Sam sat at one end of the table, a sheepish grin on his face and hunger in his eyes. He shrugged off his dark brown jacket. Bobby sat next to him and took off his hat. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

"Hurry up, boy!" barked Bobby, calling for Dean with a smile on his face. "We came here to eat not to watch you cook. Feed us!"

"Alright, alright, calm down old man," Dean replied, laughing.

Ellen laughed, throwing back her head with joy, her deep throaty laugh echoing around the pristine backyard. She sat on Sam's other side, and they laughed with each other at the fun the two male heads were having with each other.

Jo reappeared again, walking across the lawn with a bounce in her step and a pitcher of golden liquid clasped in her hands. "Lemonade anyone?" she asked, happily. A chorus of "yes please" and "thanks yous" followed her offer.

Dean was filled with an overwhelming feeling of joy. He laughed out loud at the feeling and no one seemed to mind. Jo filled everyone's glass; beginning with Ellen's who said, "Thanks baby." She made her way around the table, filling everyone's glass with the golden liquid.

When she reached Sam she asked, "Sam, would you like some?"

"Oh, yes please," answered Sam eagerly. Jo, with her smile never fading, nodded her head and began to pour. His glass filled with a deep red liquid, its thick texture hardly allowing any light to pass though. Sam eyed it hungrily, licking his lips and wiping his sweaty palms on his thighs.

Huh, Dean thought.

Dean piled up all the food onto two platters on the side of the barbeque and walked over to the eagerly waiting group. Jo sat next to her mother, who moved Jo's hear behind her ear. Dean placed the steaming food down on the table, its aroma making everyone eager for a taste. Dean sat next to Jo, at the other end of the table, opposite of his brother, on his left. They smiled at each other.

"Everything looks delicious, Dean," said Sam, allowing his eyes to wonder the contents of the table.

"Naturally," he replied with an arrogant smirk, making everyone at the table laugh. Jo smacked his arm playfully and her face and eyes seemed to light up with more joy.

Inspired by being surrounded by his beautiful family, Dean stood up, raising his glass high.

"I'd like to propose a toast," he announced, holding up his glass of lemonade. Laughing, everyone else stood and lifted their glass as well.

"Here's a toast too-," but Dean couldn't finish for the sound of growling. He looked around his back yard but didn't see anything. The sound of the growling became louder and more vicious, and the barking was so loud that Dean could hardly hear himself think. He tired to speak again, but the sound seemed over powering. Suddenly, his perfect backyard was being torn to shreds by an invisible force. Chunks of grass flew though the air, flowers where ripped from their roots, and his house, with its perfect white siding, was being covered with claw marks.

"Just ignore them, Dean," shouted Sam above the noise and destruction. "They're just hellhounds."

Dean smiled again. Of course he though, they're just hellhounds.

Dean cleared his throat and raised his glass high. His voice rang out strong and clear. "Here's a toast…to family."

"To family!" everyone repeated back before taking a drink.

Jo embraced Dean, and he felt his heart swell. Her body seemed to fit just right with his and his arms wrapped perfectly around her slim waist. She looked up at him and smiled and he kissed her lips softly. They felt cold and dry to the touch. When he pulled away, she was still smiling a smile that reflected his own.

With a snarl, Jo was ripped from Dean's arms and thrown to the ground. Her blond hair swirled around wildly before her head slammed into the ground. She sat up, gasping, and clasping her stomach. She looked down on herself. "Oh crap!" she proclaimed. Her shirt was ripped and bloody and she was bleeding heavily, blood pouring from her wound and down the side of her body, staining the ground beneath her. She sighed in annoyance.

"Jo, what happened?!" asked Dean, confused.

"It must have been those darn hellhounds! They're always trying to rip me part!"

"Yeah," said Dean, "I know the feeling." They both laughed, giving each other knowing looks.

"I guess I better go take care of this before I lose all feeling in my legs." She

said as she stood from the ground. Blood overflowed past her fingers and down her leg. She looked around the table, a look of apology crossing her features. "Sorry guys! I guess I'm going to have to call it a day!"

There was a grumble of protest from the rest of the party. No one wanted her to go.

Ellen stood and walked around the table to wrap her arms around her daughter. "I'll come with you, baby," she said.

"Are you sure mom?"

"Of course." replied Ellen, a smile growing on her face. "I would never let you leave on your own. You're my baby girl." Jo fail the temptation to role her eyes but appreciated the kind gesture. They made their way past the barbeque and made their way to the house, the sound of hellhounds following them as they went. Suddenly, Jo stopped and turned back around.

"Hey Dean?"

"Yeah?" Dean called back.

She hobbled over to the barbeque. "Can I borrow your propane tank?"

"Yeah, sure!" answered Dean.

"See you boys," called Ellen as she and Jo made their way inside, the hellhounds following.

Now it was just the boys, one Winchester at each end with Bobby sitting between them. Sam stood.

"I'd like to make a toast myself."

Dean and Bobby stood to join him.

"To paradise!" toasted Sam,

"To paradise," echoed Dean and Bobby, then they drink from their glasses greedily.

Dean smacked his lips together and thought to himself, This is the best damn lemonade I have ever tasted. He looked at Sam, wanting to share his discovery with his little brother, but he saw that Sam was still drinking from his glass. His throat moved up and down as he gulped the red liquid, some moving past his mouth, over his face and down his neck. His head was thrown all the way back to try and savor every last drop.

"Sam?" called Dean, trying to get his brother's attention, but Sam kept on drinking.

"Sammy?" he tried again.

Sam shook the glass over his open mouth, glass clinking against his teeth before he finally finished and lifted his head. He smacked his lips together in the same fashion as Dean and let out a sigh of satisfaction. He looked at Dean smiling, his mouth covered in blood and his eyes as black as night.

"Delicious," said Sam.

Suddenly, Dean found himself being blasted back into the air as his house exploded, shards of wood and glass flying past him and hitting him. He felt no pain, only fear as his eyes witnessed the destruction. He was blasted high into the air, and when he gazed at what was left of his backyard, he didn't see anyone else. Then debris from his house began to lift higher into the air and spin around in a massive cyclone, with Dean suspended in the middle. It was a swirling mass of debris and dust and smoke and it made the air thin. Dean found himself gasping for air.

"Sammy!" he head himself cry out, but there was no answer. The winds were strong and even if Sam did call back to him, he doubted he would be able to hear.

And clanking noise came out of the swirling mass and from out of the cyclone came chains. They shot out at Dean, wrapping themselves around and through him. Fear, pure and cold enveloped Dean just as the chains enveloped him. As the Cyclone spun, the chains around Dean became tighter and tighter, pulling him apart while at the same time crushing him to death.

The cyclone began to spin faster and faster, creating heat and wind and noise. Dean felt he was going to go deaf from the sound. He couldn't even hear himself cry out. Finally, in another burst of wind, the cyclone exploded, causing a wave of wind and heat to pass over the land. For a while, all Dean could see was smoke and dust and flashes of light. Slowly, the haze cleared and all that was left of his beautiful home and a barren land, deprived of everything that could sustain life.

"No!" screamed Dean as he fought his chains. Agony and pain was all he could feel in this moment and he wanted it stop. He struggled against the chains that were there to bind him. They became lose and he began to fall to the earth, faster and faster. Fear quickened his heartbeat as the hot air of this horrible place did nothing to slow his decent. He closed his eyes, gracing his arms against his face, though he knew it wouldn't help when he finally became plastered to the ground. But he didn't hit the ground. He was falling for what felt like forever but he never made contact.

He opened his eyes, removing his arms from his face, and he found that he was no longer falling, but flying. He could she his shadow on the ground, and perturbing on either side on him were wings. He felt fear melt away as he began to grasp the ability.

Now he just needed to find Sam.

"Dean!" he heard Sam scream. He turned around and saw his brother off in the distance. He was laying his stomach, being held down by fiery chains. Black smoke swirled around in the air above him, their demonic voice crackling with joy as Sam cried out in agony.

"Sammy!" Dean screamed back. "I'm coming Sam, just hold on!" With all his strength, Dean tried to force his way to Sam, but the harder he tried to further away Sam seemed to be. He couldn't reach him. His wings didn't want to fly, and they wouldn't let him down. The flames of the chains were slowly engulfing Sam, consuming him. Sam's cries of pain and anguish filled the dead air and even time he called for his brother Dean would feel a stab in his heart.

"It doesn't have to be this way, Sam," said Lucifer, appearing before Sam. "Just say yes, all of this will be over."

"No!" screamed Sam. The demons crackled with delight.

"SAM!" screamed Dean, fighting his way to Sam. He got out his knife and tried to reach his wings. He had to get to Sam. He had to same Sam. "Sammy, I'm coming!"

"God is doing this to you, Sam not me! He's the one who has taken everything away from you." Lucifer knelt down before Sam, a kind smile crossing the pealing and dying face of his current meat suit. "Don't you want revenge, Sam? Don't you want justice?"

"No Sam! No!" screamed Dean, tears streaming down his face. Fire blazed in his back as he cut off his wings. "Don't give in Sam, I'm almost there. We can finish this together!"

"Say yes, Sam!" cried the devil.

"Dean!"

"I'm sorry Sammy! I'm so sorry!"

"Say yes, Samuel!"

Dean fell to the ground as he cut off the second wing. He could hardly breathe from the pain, but he wasn't going to let that stop him from saving his bother. He started to run, as the fire in Sam's chains began to blaze and burn hotter then before.

"This pain, this suffering can all end, Sam! Just let me in! LET ME IN, SAM!"

"No Sam!" he reached out his hand to grasp the chain.

"Yes!" cried Sam. There was silence now. Everything stopped, and al that could be heard was the haggard breathing coming from Sam. "God forgive me, yes!"

There was a blast of white light and Dean covered his eyes from its brilliance. He fell back onto the charred ground, panting for breath. He coughed as sulfur filled his lungs.

"Hello Dean."

Dean opened his eyes and looked up. There was Sam, dressed in all white, his skin glowing his face smiling. But it was wrong. All wrong.

"No…" Dean gasped.

Lucifer smiled a crooked smile as he gazed down at the brother of his vessel.

"Welcome to paradise."

With a gasp, Dean sat up in bed, his face covered in tears.

Alrighty, so, there you have it. I really wanted to post this because I've had this idea ever since the last episode aired. This is meant to be a one-shot, but if you want I can see if I can wrap a story around this. Tell me what you think! Also, sorry there's no Castiel. I tried to write him in but it just didn't really work…
So, yeah. It was a little weird but it totally made sense in my head!