Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or its characters. Im just mearly a fan out to have some fun with them. No copyright infringement is intended. Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke and CW Network.
Chapter One: I Will Save You
His vision was getting very blurry; and going in and out fighting not to go black. Dean looked up to see flashes of Metatron standing over him. Then something cold and metalic went into his chest, twisting and searing, burning, tearing up what Dean considered to be vital to you know, being alive. Metatron shoved the blade deeper, "See? Thought you could defeat me? Think again"...
Sam staggered from behind the corner of the back alley, he stopped dead in his tracks. He felt nauseous as he watched as Metatron thrusted that blade into his brother's chest... NO! Sam yelled as he ran to his brother's side. He cradled Dean in his arms, trying not to glance into the blank stare that washed over the older Winchester's face...
Something hot and sticking woke Sam from his daze. Carefully, he laid Dean's near lifeless form upon the wet rain soaked pavement of the street alley. Clasping his hands together, shakingly; he tried his best at CPR. "C' mon, Dean, don't do this to me, not now" Sam kept at it for several minutes pausing only briefly to press his fingers to Dean's throat. There! He thought. "It's weak though".
Sam's eyes swelled with tears, causing them to burn. "I'm gonna save you, I swear." He glanced back at Dean's pale face absent of life. Growing furious with despair and grief, he clasped his hands together and brought them together up and down... with a loud THUD against Dean's chest.
"C'MON, DEAN, FIGHT!"
Sam's heart skipped a beat and a smile appeared on his weary face. If only for a minute, Dean's heart was beating...
NOTHING.Sam's smile faded as soon as it had appeared. Dean's heart quit thumping along and blood soaked through the creases of Sam's fingers. Sam held Dean's face in his hands; bringing his body into an embrace.
" I don't want to say goodbye, not like this. We've been through worse-"
"Mom and Dad's deaths because of the Yellow Eyed Demon. My addiction to Azazel's blood and the psychic powers that cost me my life. You selling your soul so that I could have my life back" Sam hugged his dead brother a bit longer.
" We stopped Lilith. You were the first Seal. Lucifer escaped his cage because of us. We dove headfirst into a war against demons, angels, Heaven and Hell. We were told of a destiny as Michael's and Lucifer's vessels; were to engage in this epic battle for the world."...
Sam paused his speech of past events when he realized he was being watched. There, cast in the shadows of the alleyway, was a man, maybe in his late twenties to early thirties, dressed all in black. Sam looked the man over top to bottom: top hat, leather trench coat, white gloves and sneakers. Sam thought the man's shoe choice was a bit odd given the outfit he was wearing. Sam laid Dean's body carefully upon the dank, cold blood-soaked pavement. He got to his feet, tucking the Blade behind his back.
The Man-in-the-Hat stepped towards Sam and Dean at a steady pace with an out-stretched hand. " Here.. I can help him" the stranger urged. Growing impatient and worried, Sam whipped out the Blade and held his ground. "DON'T come any closer" Sam barked.
The stranger froze in place for a moment, waiting in anticipation for Sam's next move. When he was confident that Sam wasn't a threat, he knelt on his knees. Still clenching the Blade and standing protectively over his brother; he watched the man curiously. "Who are you and how the hell did you know we were here?" Sam inquired. The stranger didn't seem to be much of a conversationalist.
"Here." The Stranger held out a closed fist. Sam held out his palm and a vial of violet liquid escaped onto it. "What is this? What did you just give him?!" The man watched Dean's lifeless form for a few minutes. His gruff voice broke the eerie silence. "A potion to open the rift between this world and the netherworld." The Man In The Hat let out an esperated breath. " Take him back to the bunker and find these ingredients" Cramming an yellowed-worn piece of paper into Sam's hand.
Sam took a minute to glance at the note. He finished reading and was about to question the man again; he'd vanished. Sam glanced around quickly, no sight of him. Wanting go find him and drag his sorry ass back; but not willing to just abandon his brother there. So he stayed.
Wondering about the Man's words, he ran back to where the Impala was still parked. He russled around the trunk, grabbing a flashlight, a sleeping bag, and some cereal bars. He'd been so consumed with Dean's fight against Metatron, The Stranger and everything; he hadn't realized he hadn't ate and that he was soaked from head to toe. When did it start raining? He wondered.
The Impala's wheels squealed underneath the aspault as Sam pushed the gas pedal to the floorboard. White smoke emitted from the car's exhaust, feeling the need to match Sam's hurried panic. Driving for what felt like hours, days even; Sam took quick glances into the rearview mirror. Dean's body shrouded in the sleeping bag. Unmoving. Sam knew it was childish of him to expect Dean to just wake up.
The rain fell hazingly on the windshield; beating the glass like a steady drum. Sam could vaquely make out the enterance to the Bunker. Sam put Baby in park, carefully placed an unliving Dean; shrouded in that sleeping bag, over his shoulder and made his way up the stairs. Crashing through the Bunker's doors; Sam placed his brother upon the table. In a whirlwind of rushed panic and tired eyes, Sam burrowed through the Bunker's keepsakes. Scoping through books, spells, curses, his Dad's journal, anything and everything to try and save his brother. Exsperated in his futile efforts, Sam took a few minutes to wash Dean'a face and removed the blood drenched bandages concealing the gaping holes in Dean's heart.
Devouring every knowledge the Bunker itself seemed to contain and coming up empty; Sam collapsed into a near-by chair. He buried his tired face into his aching hands. He began to sob. And for what seemed to last for hours... nothing. Complete silence and a hollowing despair overtook the Bunker and Sam's hope with it. Hope for his brother blinked out. Sam's headache was growing with each tick of his wristwatch; but he dare not move. He had failed. He failed as a hunter for now Metatron was still free. More importantly though, he failed as a brother for now Dean laid before him: Dead.
Sam fished in his pocket for the list from the Stranger, reading it sgain. He had done everything and yet Dean was not awake. He ripped the note into bits in a hateful fit of frustration. He kicked the chair away and fell to his knees. He pressed his forehead to the edge of the table keeping Dean's body. He placed a firm grip on Dean's shoulder. It was warm. Or that Dean's body was glowing. Actually GLOWING like the candle next to him. Sam watched in amazement as the light was sending currents like in a riverbed; through Dean's entire body. Spirals of electricity encased him and suddenly just as soon as it had started. It stopped.
" Hello there, Moose" Came a voice that needed no introduction. Crowley stood behind a very startled Sam. Sending him crashing to the floor. "Is he ready?" Crowley inquired as he stood over Dean's form. Sam looked at him with puzzlement. "Ready for what, Crowley?" He bent over and whispered into Dean's ear: "Wake up". They were greeted with two pools of blackness...