Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

This story it unbeta'ed, so all mistakes are my own.

Warning: Spoiler for season finale. (If you haven't seen 13x23, you may not want to read this.)

Enjoy!

"We had a deal."

"Yes, we did," he smirked. "But, what can I say, you're mine."

"You can't stay here," Dean demanded. "I can say no."

"But you won't," Michael retorted. "You can't. See, what you don't know is you're injured. You were going on pure adrenaline. I know kind of damage I did to you before that Nephilim got there. I know how tightly I was crushing your windpipe. I was actually amazed that you could still talk. I'm what's keeping you alive. Also, you have a massive bleed in your brain. One too many blows to the head."

"I don't care. I want you out."

"Well," Michael said, as he moved their body over to the mirror to see himself in his new meat suit. "There is another reason you won't do that."

"And what's that?" Dean demanded.

"Your brother."

"What about Sammy?"

"You eject me, and you will watch your brother die. I will find myself another vessel. It won't be as strong as you, but it will last as long as I need to do the job, and I will have one job. One job only. Your brother, Samuel Winchester, will die. Now," putting the hat on his head. "the question is if you eject me. How long will you have with your brother? See, I already know you will do anything for him. That's why I'm in here now."

"Let me talk to him."

"Now why would I agree to that?"

"Please, if you're going to stay, please. Let me talk to him."

Michael admired himself in the mirror, wiping the imaginary dust off of his sleeves. "If I do this," Michael warned. "Don't try anything. I'm being generous here. If I even think you are trying to say no, I'll leave going straight into your precious brother and kill him first."

"No tricks," Dean promised.

"I'll give you ten minutes," Michael said, turning to leave the tailor.

Dean was just a passenger in his own body. It was not a feeling he was accustomed to. He was never a passenger. He was always the driver. Hell, Sammy hardly ever drove Baby. He was the driver. Dean needed to know if he had some kind of control over this. Even a minor one. Just something that he could work with.

"Yes, Dean," Michael chuckled. "Go ahead and plot. Make your schemes. I'm in your head. I know what you know."

Dean wasn't paying attention. He was on a mission. He needed to try. Anything just to show that he was still strong. As they were making their way to the door, Dean knew he only had a short window to see. It was just a simple movement, but if he can control this, it's hope. Michael put his hand on the doorknob, opening it. Just as he walked out the door, Dean turned his head and looked back at the dead owner laying on the ground. Michael killed him as soon as they got to the place, before finding the clothes that he had on now. Dean couldn't help the small smile that ghosted on his lips. It may be a minuscule movement, but it was a movement that Michael didn't do. Dean did it. Which meant all wasn't lost. Dean could work with this.

"What was that?" growled Michael. He stumbled out of the doorway, putting his hand on the outside wall to keep himself upright.

"Nothing," Dean said, breathlessly. That had taken a lot more energy than he realized.

_0000_0000_0000

Sam was in a daze. He helped Jack back to the bunker. He was shocked at how fast it seemed that they got back home. Home. Was it really home anymore? Helping Jack into his room, Sam didn't even notice Mom and Bobby helping Jack to lay down and then tending to his wounds. He didn't hear his mom call his name over and over. Sam was on auto-pilot. His legs just moved. It only stopped when he was standing in front of the familiar door. Dean's door. He took a breath as if he was going to say something, but he deflated an instant later as he remembered that Dean wasn't there. Dean really wasn't there.

Opening the door, Sam walked in, slamming the door closed behind him. Again, not noticing that someone was calling him or standing on the other side. Slowly, Sam walked over to his brother's bed and sat down. So many things were going through his mind. The main thing was that this was his fault. All of this was his fault. He should have been watching his six. We were all being attacked. There was no way that Dean could have watched his back if he was busy trying to kill four enraged vamps set on killing. All he had to do was make sure that nothing could get him from behind. But no, he couldn't do that. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Sam was brought out of his inner turmoil by a fluttering of wings. He looked up, and Dean was standing at the end of the bed, but it wasn't his brother. Even if it was his face, Sam could just tell that the person standing before him was not the one that raised him. Michael walked around the bed until he was standing in front of Sam. Sam looked at him for a second before lowering his gaze. He just couldn't look at that thing knowing that it wasn't his big brother. Michael stood there for a while, smirking. He loved the anguish he was giving Sam.

This could actually be fun, Michael thought.

The room was silent. Then,

"All right," Michael yelled, surprising Sam at his tone.

Sam instantly look up at the angel possessing his brother.

"He won't shut up," Michael growled.

"D'n," Sam whispered.

"Ten minutes," Michael said.

Sam watched as he could look at the man before him and knew instantly when his brother came back. When Sam saw the glimmer of his brother, he was immediately off the bed and in his arms.

"I'm going to find a way to fix this," Sam said. His voice was low as he was trying to contain his emotions.

"No, Sam," Dean said, still holding his brother in his arms. "You're going to leave this."

Stepping back, Sam looked at his brother.

"What? No, we'll figure something out."

"No, Sam," Dean said again more adamantly.

"Why?"

"Sam."

"No," Sam said, shaking his head. "You've got to stop this. I can't anymore." Tears streaming down his cheeks. "I don't...I can't. Dean, please. Please tell me you're not doing this for me?"

Dean just looked at his younger brother.

"No, Dean," Sam stepped away, gripping his hair by the roots, pacing the length of the room. "Please, no."

"I take it he told you."

Sam looked at the man before him and saw that it wasn't Dean anymore.

"Why are you doing this?" Sam asked, sounding defeated.

"It's my turn," Michael smirked. "And I like here," shrugging his shoulders. The fluttering of wings and Sam was once again, alone. Sam groaned as he fell to his knees. He wrapped his arms around himself. He tried to soothe a hurt that was just out of his reach.

THE END?

A/N: I left this open-ended. I'm not sure if I'll be coming back to this or not. When I saw the season finale, I didn't know how I felt about it. I hope that you liked my one shot. Please leave a review letting me know what you think.

Many hugs and kisses to you all!

Mandancie :)