.-~*~-.

Raphael managed to get ahead of Dean pretty easily and he was grateful because he wanted to see Michael one last time before he died.

It wasn't that he wanted Michael dead, because no, he had never wanted Michael dead. In honesty, he had never wanted Lucifer dead. What he had wanted from the start of it all was for the war to end. Being the healer of Heaven had major drawbacks, drawbacks that had forced him to shut down his most base levels of emotions. It had left him in the impossible position of either letting the world's pain consume him, or not feeling anything at all.

Years ago he had seen it simply. The solution to his problem. If Michael and Lucifer fought, the war would end. It was a fair assessment, simple enough. It might not have been the right choice, but it was the easier one. Especially then.

Michael is going to die.

There was an empty feeling in his grace at the thought, the knowledge that he should be angry or upset was there but it just… didn't. There were still barriers in his grace, walls he'd built on his emotions that Chuck hadn't taken down when he'd been resurrected. For the moment, the only living creature in the planet he cared for more than the angels in Heaven was Gabriel.

The runaway.

Justifiably so, but still the runaway.

"Raphael." Michael's voice crumbled through him, breaking his thought process as the insane archangel stared at him from the center of the archangel circle, dark shadowy manifestations of his wings cast across the wall behind him in a way that Raphael knew he couldn't have done from the trap. "Are you going to let me out."

"No." Raphael responded slowly, shivering slightly as the mouth of Michael's vessel curled up in something that could've been a smile or a sneer.

For the first time ever, something clawed at his spine and bit at him violently. A sensation he only vaguely recognized as fear. The golden eyes glinted dangerously with white grace burning beneath them as Michael rose to his feet.

This was a completely different side of Michael than what he'd seen with Gabriel around. The leader of Heaven, the one Raphael had followed for thousands of years. A dark and twisted version of him.

"You seem to be under the impression that that was a question."

"I'm not letting you out, Michael." Almost predatory in his movements Michael walked up to the edge of the trap, pressing his hand firmly into the invisible wall that tried to give under his power. "Either you will, or it will. Even Dad can't keep me contained forever, Raphael."

"I remember the time when you were the only one of us that could make the difficult choices, Michael. The justifiable ones. What you did to Gabriel, though? That was not justified."

"Gabriel," A sharp laugh escaped Michael as he pressed into the invisible barrier more, "That's who you're choosing? Gabriel."

"Yes."

"Then you're betting on the losing side, Raphael. Gabriel is an arrogant little coward and that is what he will always be. When the time comes, and we both know it will, Gabriel won't be there for you. Just like every other time, he'll be with them. Gabriel will always choose the human race over his brothers."

"Perhaps it is for the best." Raphael answered, taking a deep breath and stepping to the side as Dean finally descended the stairs.

If his demeanor change had been dramatic before it was nothing compared to what happened when Michael spotted Dean Winchester. Everything had indicated to aggression. Michael had more reasons to hate Dean Winchester than he ever had to hate Sam. The Vessel that never said yes.

Yet, when the time came, when Dean descended the stairs, Michael froze. Michael froze and his demeanor twisted to something that… on anyone else, Raphael would have called it submissive, except Michael never subjugated himself to anyone- especially a human.

"Dean." Michael greeted the eldest Winchester, almost… adoringly.

There was a blatantly obvious… something that Raphael was missing, something vitally important that he simply could not place.

Right.

"Michael." Dean responded, confusion leaking into his words as the hunter stepped a bit closer from the doorway.

Michael was crazy, in every single sense of the word, Michael was insane. So, when it came down to it, it shouldn't have surprised him. Except, until that point, Michael had been aggressive towards everyone. Hateful and cruel.

"You're going to kill me." Michael acknowledged the archangel blade with pure, raw, betrayal in the words. A lonely sadness crossed the eldest archangel's expression and Dean shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny of Michael. "Why?"

"Why?" Dean repeated the question slowly, as though he was trying to comprehend why Michael would ask such a question, as though it was the stupidest question ever asked. To an extent, it was, but not drastically so. "I don't think I need to answer that question."

"I have never harmed you before, Dean. What would possibly justify my murder?" Raphael could imagine Michael in the prison in Heaven, hands gripping the bars and forehead pressed between the bars. It was a strange image for Michael, but something he had seen during the days of the nephilim.

"You're kidding me, right?" Dean demanded and Michael frowned, "Your damned lackie tortured me for months!"

"That wasn't me, though." Michael reprimanded, disappointment bleeding into the words. "Be reasonable, Dean."

"I am being reasonable, you dick!"

"Dean-"

"Don't you get involved with this, Raphael!" Michael flipped in a second, calm demeanor crashing before grace burned in his eyes, shadow wings flaring behind him. "This has nothing to do with you!" Without thinking he stumbled back into the wall, staring at his brother with renowned fear.

Dean, to his astonishment, stepped between them, acting as a physical wall between the two. "No."

"Dean." Michael sighed, soft, words calm and smooth as he relaxed distinctly. "Ignore my brother. He's the first on my to kill list when I'm free. Then Gabriel of course. Have to kill him to kill Lucifer."

"You're out of your mind." Dean said, more to himself than Michael but it was abundantly clear just how much the statement hurt Michael when the eldest archangel dropped to his knees, shadows of his wings dissipating from behind him.

"I'm sorry, Dean. To you. I told you long ago that I would do anything for you, to you, that you asked. I did what I did for you."

"What?" Dumbfounded, annoyed, and confused were three words that might've described Dean's words. Disgusted could be another though. Raphael was having similar feelings, because the more he analyzed his elder brother the more obvious his thoughts became.

"I love you." Michael said simply, as though they were the most obvious, basic words in the world. As though Dean was stupid for not knowing. Except it wasn't an obvious answer, and the fumbling on the weapon, the step back the hunter made, were perfect proof of the fact that, no, Dean didn't know that. No, Dean did not like that, and Raphael felt a tightness in his chest that he could somewhat equate to dread.

"No."

"No." Michael repeated, frown deepening further. "That isn't how you're supposed to respond."

"What do you expect me to say?"

"You're my true vessel." Michael muttered instead, "You're supposed to return the sentiment."

"I- what? That ain't how this has ever worked. If it was Sam wouldn't have been half out of his mind from Lucifer torturing him!"

"Lucifer loves Sam. Just as he loves me and just as I love you. Why is that so difficult to understand?"

"How about because it's bullshit? Lucifer doesn't love Sam, he fucking tortured him and you in the Cage. You may not have done it directly but you sure as hell didn't put a stop to the crap Zach pulled during the damned Apocalypse. You can take your declaration and ram it up your ass because it's bullshit."

"Dean-" Michael stared at him from the floor and guilt hammered through Raphael's chest when he didn't try to stop Dean from marching forward to grab the archangel by the front of his shirt.

Right into the circle.

Michael made a move, shifting their positions and trying to drag Dean so their mouths touched.

A bright flash of grace erupted through the room before the eldest archangel collapsed into a heap on the floor, Dean stumbling back with an empty hand.

Michael was dead.

Raphael swallowed heavily, staring at his brother's body, the imprint of wings on the ground, and shame and guilt flooded through him because he had failed him. He had failed to save Michael, to heal him. Something so complicated and he'd done nothing.

Michael was dead, yet… as Raphael stared at the back of Dean's head… he had died believing he was in love. There had been no hate or anger, just an unending sadness that Raphael allowed himself, for just a moment, to wonder the legitimacy of.

True or not, it had to be better than a battle to the death with Lucifer. It had to be justified. Because if it wasn't, then Raphael had just watched his brother die to someone he truly hated.

*-.-*

So I was asked about potentially doing this scene. At first, I was wary, but I figured I'd give it a go. And boy did I enjoy it, so shoutout to teabrows on for the existence of this chapter! Without your reviewing and private messaging I never would've actually bothered doing this. That being said, I do take prompts and suggestions though I will never promise anything to come from it. I am always open to suggestions though. :)