This is not the first story I've written, but this is the first story I've posted. I have a novel-length story waiting to be posted somewhere. Constructive criticism is welcome. The chapters will lengthen, I promise, but I had to let it end on that quote. I don't own Supernatural, that belongs to Kripke, and neither do I own the movie quote in here.
The idea for this: So I was watching the episode where the Winchesters find out about the vessel problem, and then I was day-dreaming in Chemistry class about a week later....What would happen if Dean said yes and Michael inhabited him? What happens when Sam gets irritated and won't have it? And what happens when Sam's left with the temptation of demon blood and no one to stop him?
Blood dripping off his lip, Dean held his ground, returning Zachariah's piercing blue gaze. "No," he declared stubbornly, one hand on the corruggated steel wall to support him. His face set, he repeated himself. "I won't do it. This war isn't about me. It's about your greedy, power-hungry ambitions."
"It is the typical, ignorant human mind that believes that. This war concerns everyone in it, including you and your corrupted brother." Zachariah smiled slyly, sliding a hand into his suit jacket. "And if you don't agree, Caleb will find himself without a mother. You wouldn't want that for innocent little Caleb Winchester, would you?"
Dean seethed, wishing he could beat the smile off the angel's face. "You wouldn't dare. He's innocent, pure. He doesn't know anything about this!"
"I would do anything to win this war."
"Fine. Yes. Yes, you evil, two-faced, cowardly son of a bitch! Let Michael take me, and damn you to Hell. I agree to this, but you had better not touch my son. " Dean ground out the words, flinging blood onto his shirt. One motion of Zachariah's hand and the pain vanished, the blood disappeared, and Sam's choking was suddenly silent.
Dean was terrified of what would happen next, and he desperately hated Zachariah for using the one pure, happy thing in his life and twisting it, forcing him to become a meatsuit for another holier-than-thou angel more concerned with winning a war where humans were the cannon fodder than doing what he was supposed to. He considered killing Zachariah to protect his son from the lying, manipulative angel, but there wasn't much time to contemplate it before the arrival of another angel.
The sound of wings beating filled the storage container, and Castiel stood before them, something Dean had never expected to see again in his life, short as it was proving to be.
"Castiel!"chimed the other three occupants of the storage container.
Castiel eyed Zachariah contemptuously. "You will let them go," Castiel gravely announced.
"I think not," Zachariah demurred, a smug smile ensconcing itself on his face.
"You will let them go," Castiel repeated, a steely note entering his voice.
"I don't have to," Zachariah gloated. "The boy has already agreed. You are too late, Castiel."
Castiel blanched. Wordlessly he turned to Dean. "You..."
Dean shook his head in protest. "I had to. He threatened to kill the mother of my son. What was I supposed to do, let him kill the woman who created the best thing to ever happen to me?"
From behind him, a familiar throat cleared and Sam spoke. "You have a son? Dean, I know I'm not the only one with secrets, but this is ridiculous. You and Dad are so alike. We're brothers, you know? We share things. Why didn't you tell me about this kid?" Sam sighed.
"Not now, Sammy."
"Oh, sure-" Sam began, and he was interrupted by the ground shaking under their feet. Blinding light seeped under the edges of the corrugated steel doorway, and Dean covered his ears as the familiar high-pitched whine began. "Oh, not again!" he snapped.
"Michael is coming, and his wrath will be great, Castiel!" crowed Zachariah.
Castiel turned to the brothers. "He is right. I should not be here then Michael comes. I will find you later." He placed his hands on the boys' chests and vanished with a flap of invisible wings.
Before Dean could turn to Sam and tell him to leave, he was filled with incredible pain, his mind feeling as if it would explode. He felt a presence taking over and shoving his consciousness into a small corner of his mind.
6 Months Later
Snick. Snick. Snick. The sound slowly filtered into Dean's brain, making its way past the haze of a hangover. He slowly cracked open his eyes, breathing a sigh of relief as he realized the room was dark. A figure sat in the corner of the dingy room, only partially visible, and the metallic sound seemed to emanate from it. Dean groaned and rolled onto his side. The sound stopped, the figure turned, and Dean saw a glint of metal.
"I wondered if you were going to wake up soon. Its been awhile."
Dean cradled his head in his hands as he sat up. "Sam? What the hell happened? Where are we?"
Sam hefted the blade in his hand and set it down on the table next to his laptop. "It is me, and we're in a motel room in Bremerton, Washington. Bobby did some research and we basically exorcised Michael from you. With Castiel's help, we're on the run from the angels. Despite Michael's activities, the demon's are still winning. Castiel has been looking and he can't find God. And I found your son," he added as an afterthought, face expressionless.
Observing Sam closely, Dean noted his scruffy face, the shadows under his eyes and the slumped set of his broad shoulders. "You look like hell, bro. Can we get some freakin' pie around here? I'm starving, dude."
Sam chuckled dryly. "You're inhabited by an angel for six months, you've traveled all over the world, and the first thing you want when you're free is pie? Typical Dean...Come on. How about a burger? There's this place a couple miles away that has amazing shakes and burgers. And get this – it's called Noah's Ark."
Dean struggled to stand, head pounding. "Real freakin' imaginative. You sure there aren't any angels here?"
"So far, I haven't found any angels in this oversized town, just a hell of a lot of demons." Sam shrugged his massive shoulders.
"Demons? What kind of demon? Crossroads, what, bro?" Dean slid into his jacket, searching for the keys to the Impala. "Dude, where are my keys?"
"I have them," Sam replied.
"You've been driving my baby? What were you thinking?"
"You were flying all over with your fluttering angel wings. You didn't the car, and I did. She doesn't have a scratch on her."
Dean gave Sam a disbelieving look. "Bitch."
"Jerk." Sam pulled his jacket over his head to protect himself from the driving rain and headed into the parking lot. Dean followed, giving the lot a once over, and then did a double take.
"Dude, where's my car?"