Tag to the end of 13x23, so SPOILERS if you're not caught up.

Going Away

There is a moment where everything is perfect.

It is a moment caught right after the spaces of another moment, a piece of time preceded by the seconds within which he plunges an archangel blade into Lucifer's stomach. Dean watches as the Devil's eyes glow bright and red, and he has been around fire long enough to know the signs of a dying flame, the last embers that flicker, flicker, and finally die out.

It seems surreal.

It seems impossible.

Because the Devil is dead, and here they are.

There is the sound like coals over a fire, and it is the remnants of Lucifer's singed wings, forever scarred into the floor, just inches from where they stand. There is a sound like relief, and it is the breath that falls from Sam's lips.

"Is he…?" asks Jack, part fear and part relief and maybe a small part grief for the father he never even began to have.

"He's dead," Sam answers, turning to face his brother. He looks at Dean the way he used to look at him, back when Dean would make the bullies at school disappear. He looks at Dean like he is the sun, like he has found a way to blot out the night. Permanently. "You did it," his baby brother says to him. Dean examines the blade in his hand, remembering how it had found its way into his grip.

"No," he corrects. "No. We did it." He repeats it, just to hear the words aloud again. "We did it."

And it is all perfect.

Mom is safe at home. Bobby and Charlie exist in the world again, in one form or another. And there is something almighty flowing through Dean's veins, coloring his blood in vibrant blue. There is power like he's never felt pushing over the edges of his skin, radiating out from his heart and rolling along the backs of his eyes like a wide open doorway with the light flowing in. He can taste it on his tongue. He can feel it moving along the outside of his bones. The constant doubt inside his head is gone, replaced by this pulsing, ethereal glow. There is no lack of faith, no insurmountable pile of crap that just keeps building up inside his head, tearing at his every thought. There is only power. There is only purpose.

Dean wonders, for a moment, what it means now that Jack no longer has his power. If they'll really get the chance to take a step back like they'd been talking about. And it had been a real wish, a true feeling inside his gut. It had felt like the beginning of the end. But even if they can't retire, even if Jack has lost his mojo, Dean thinks they've at least earned a break. Maybe even a month away. He can't remember the last time he's had a goddamn margarita. And he can already smell the beach. He can hear the waves. He can feel his toes sinking into the shoreline, the water sweeping over his ankles and coloring the world slowly, lazily, with sunset red. He can feel it all.

And then something inside of him moves.

Dean chokes, mid-breath, and tries to let his lungs find oxygen. He stutters over his air, feels something dark and heavy and not him pressing against his limbs, his chest, his head, his every cell. There's no time to fight back, no time to gather defenses because he's never had to build any like this before, and then his fingers aren't working like they should, aren't moving the way he wants and he knows it's over but he can still feel his lips, so he uses them.

"WE HAD A DEAL!" Dean growls, and later he thinks he might have tried to pick some better words if he had known they would be the last he'd speak with his own tongue. He feels himself straighten, a puppet who no longer needs its strings, and there is nothing of himself in the motion. There is only Michael now.

"NO!" he screams, but his lips do not so much as twitch. He tries to find his little brother's face, tries to tell Sam that he's sorry, that he'll find a way back somehow, but Michael flicks his eyes to the ceiling, casual, as if contemplating whether or not that damn margarita should be frozen or on the rocks. And then Michael opens Dean's mouth, uses his voice to speak words that don't belong:

"Thanks for the suit."

Dean doesn't even get a last glimpse of Sam before Michael spreads their wings and vanishes.

There will be one more chapter for this, and it'll be pure speculation about season 14. I'll post it soon, probably at some point tomorrow.