To Return from the Ashes

Part One

-Set sometime between "Point of No Return" and "Swan Song"

-this is a bit out there, done to kill a writer's itch, and probably very little of this makes sense; you've been warned.

"Adam, no!" Becky screamed. But it was too late—the gunshot shattered the fragile air and the gun hit the rocks with a hollow, insensitive clunk.

Adam fell to his knees, the air caught in his throat. He couldn't breathe. He saw her lying on the gravel, the blood blooming on her blouse so carefully and precisely—the capillary action was beautiful, albeit horrific, to Adam's scientifically inclined mind—but that wasn't the point. She was starting to bleed onto the ground, the pallor on her face becoming more and more opaque. He crawled forward and reached toward her, but he ended up slapping dirt into the air in frustration.

He inched backward, his heart finally starting to pound; he was reacting like a normal human being again. He felt his arms start to shake and he felt physically sick in every way imaginable—the delayed reaction only intensified the sensations. Adam start to cough and whatever food was in his stomach hit the ground in irregular bursts.

He sat up, his breathing still irregular. Her blood was approaching him, slowly slithering between the pebbles. Adam scrambled away. He fell onto his back and faced the gray sky. Adam turned his head and eyed the gun lying a couple of feet away; he thought whatever he was feeling would make sense once he saw something so black and white, something so clearly tied to something so clearly wrong, but nothing was clear anymore—Adam didn't understand a damn thing, and all he could do was feel like driving his fist through a metal wall.

He was on his feet all of a sudden; Adam didn't even know how he got to standing. But his anger full on hit him like a blow to the back of the head and he doubled over, his weight falling hard on the bases of his palms. He wiped the gravel off his sticky skin.

"Damn it!" he yelled. His muscles tightened all at once and Adam curled up on the ground. His eyes were locked on the gun a couple of feet away from him.

You can't keep me out forever, said the voice Adam had crammed into the back of his head. He was finding it harder and harder to keep Michael under his control.

"Yeah, well, you shouldn't be in me in the first place. My head, my rules."

You said yes.

"No. Dean said yes and they left me behind and then you got my ass instead of his," Adam growled. He lifted his head and looked around. Luckily, no one but Becky's body was around to hear him conversing with the archangel inside him. "You didn't have to kill her, Mike."

She was a hazard. She was going to get in the way of what you've been trying to do all this time, wasn't she? Isn't that why you took her out here? Michael asked.

"Listen up, Mike, I'm no killer. I wanted to boot her out of the car and move on," said Adam.

Even though you want to get to Sam Winchester and she was the one who knew how to find him because of her friend, Chuck?

"No. I… she wasn't going to be much help after this point. I know where I'm going," he stammered. Adam squeezed his eyes shut.

Michael sighed.

I don't know how much longer you will feel the need to lie to yourself, Adam. We are going to have to kill Sam Winchester to kill my brother. You cannot help him, just as I cannot help Lucifer—it's my destiny to kill him, and Sam Winchester must be the vessel that Lucifer embodies. I do not see why you even would help him, after the way he and Dean treated you.

"You've got a damn good point, Mike."

Adam sat up straight. He looked around again; the road he sat beside was completely silent.

"I don't have to give them shit. They're the ones who owe me, landing me with you," he said. Adam felt something shift inside him, some subtle movement that made him start to lose feeling in his fingertips. "Stop doing that!"

Then why would you even try?

"I just want to go home," he half-moaned into his hands, running his fingers through his hair as he hunched over his knees.

Home? You—

"I know I can't go home, damn it!" snapped Adam, sitting up again. "I've died enough. I don't have a home outside of heaven. I want to see my mom, but I know I'm never gonna see my mom. Zachariah lied! You angels… you're all a bunch of lying bastards. You're all just a bunch of bird-brained, holier-than-thou assholes."

Adam—

"But this is my body, you hear? This the only home I've got, Mike, and I'm not giving it up to you if I can help it," Adam finally declared. He pushed Michael away with a hard mental shove and got to his feet. Adam wiped the dirt off his jeans. He waited, listening, but he heard nothing. He felt nothing inside him but himself.

Adam quickly picked up the gun on the ground and stuffed it in his belt. He walked the long way around the car to Becky's body. He thought he was going to be sick but Adam hung onto his lunch, leaning heavily on the car as he looked on. Something in the wound caught his eye. Adam crept up to the body, walking on tiptoes as if she were only sleeping and he did not want to wake her. He reached down. Adam, wincing, pushed a finger and his thumb into the bullet hole and carefully dislodged the object resting just within the opening.

Adam frowned. He held the bullet between his sticky, reddened fingers.

Nice touch, don't you think?

He jumped. Adam stumbled backward onto the hood of the car.

"Damn it, Mike," he breathed out. "You're gonna give your vessel a heart attack."

Your cardiac health is fine, Adam. I would be more concerned about the dead girl.

"Did you pull the bullet out of her before I got control of my body back?" demanded Adam. Michael said nothing. "Well, thanks. Now I've got the evidence and all I've gotta do is get rid of the body. Want to take care of that?"

I can't do anything unless you let me take control.

Adam bit into his lip angrily. "Not a chance," he stated after a moment of consideration.

It's your choice.

Adam rolled his eyes at the irony of Michael talking about choice.

"You did this," he said. "Fix it. You're the one who killed her."

You made her my target.

Adam said nothing yet again.

I still do not understand why you want to help Sam Winchester.

"Hell, if he can fight this crap, he should. He's gotta know that he can do it if I can do it," Adam said fiercely. "If I can, I will, damn it, and no dick angel is gonna stop me. You're getting outta my head, Mike."

Adam shut his eyes and tried to push Michael out of his mind once and for all. He threw all his weight into it to the point of sweat beading on his forehead and an angry roar building in his throat.

Michael gave a soft laugh.

Adam, I am an archangel. Like it or not, you said yes to me. You're powerless to make me leave. It's not going to happen unless I choose to do so, Michael stated calmly.

"Well if I can shut you up, I can shut you out!" he almost shouted.

You strange human! You overestimate your power of will—you can want me out more than anything, but I'm not going anywhere. Adam could feel Michael's smile; he could feel it form on his own face, completely out of Adam's control. He could feel a helpless whimper rise up in his throat. Did it ever occur to you that I am simply letting you be in control?

"Why would you even do that?" Adam felt the blood drain from his face. He cursed himself. He knew Mike was right. He was right. He was a fucking archangel! He could let Adam take the reigns for a while, if it pleased or amused him. But—"Why?"

For once, Michael seemed hesitant. His tone was not as sharp when he replied.

I am curious about you. I want to understand you. Dean Winchester I was prepared to understand, as he is my true vessel. But you, Adam… you are not Dean, and I wanted to know you better. I… I am sorry. You do not need to be in this mess, but you are now. This fight must happen and you are now on the center stage. You cannot escape it.

"Thanks for reminding me," he muttered.

I am still curious, you know. I still do not quite understand why you are doing what you are doing. As you've said, they are not your family.

"Maybe not, but they could have been. If I can't get to my mom, I can at least get to them, can't I?"

No, Adam. You can't.

"Fuck you, Michael."

You had to know this was the way it had to be. I was only letting you have the opportunity to do these things simply because I wished to comprehend my vessel. I think I understand now.

"Do you? Really?" Adam started, now truly furious with the archangel. "I'd break your face if you were in a different body."

You would shatter your arm. Do not attempt that. Adam… I am sorry, but I need you as a vessel. I cannot let you get to Sam Winchester. The Apocalypse must take place, just as my Father intended it. But I can do something for you.

"What's that? You can't do shit for me at this point, Mike. Trust me," scoffed Adam. He kicked at the car tire. A couple of rock scattered and hit Becky in the face. Adam winced. "Whoops."

I will take care of her when I take full control of you again.

Adam shook his head. He couldn't even form the right words. But Michael, being in his head, understood. He felt the archangel nod.

I can send you home. I can send you to your mother, Adam, if you'd like.

His heart skipped a couple of beats. He felt a lurch of excitement in his stomach.

"You're lying," Adam said in a small voice.

I am an archangel.

"Yeah, well, that Zachariah told me he could get me to my mom and look what happened? I'm stuck with multiple personalities."

The road beside Adam, the car, the body, the trees—everything melted into a foggy whiteness. When it faded, Adam saw the familiar kitchen table, the plates set out, with the television buzzing down the hall. He could see his mother down the hall, putting her coat away. She was still wearing her scrubs and she looked exhausted, but there was that same smile she always wore. She looked satisfied; she worked hard, helped save lives, and Adam was always proud of her and what she did. Adam's eyes started to burn at the very sight of her disheveled hair and the crinkles around her eyes. It was as if she was standing right in front of him all of a sudden. It was as if he could hear her laugh again, if he said something funny enough—as if Adam would be able to really smile again.

"Mom?" Adam croaked. He reached a hand out to touch her shoulder, but he fell right through her, as if she were made of mist. His breath caught in his throat and turned to black tar. Adam struggled to swallow, everything in him having gone dry. His eyes stung and his arm feel to his side.

"Goddamn it, Mike. Don't. This is worse than anything you could have done to me."

I am quite creative. I could do terrible things, but I only want to help you and make things just a little easier. I can send your soul here, to her heaven. Normally, you would simply go to your own heaven, but there can be exceptions. You are rather exceptional, Adam.

"Don't get so mushy on me," Adam said, though he softened instantly. Adam turned away from his mother toward the kitchen. It was starting to fade away already. "Can you really do that? What's gonna happen to my body?"

It will be my vessel. In a way, you will still be tethered to it. You will not be dead. It'll just be that most of you will be in heaven, away from the pain, away from Lucifer and me.

"Sam—"

He cannot be helped. You cannot change his destiny. But if you will let me, I can help make yours a little easier. This was never intended to be your destiny.

"So this is the fruit basket you archangels send when things don't quite go as planned?"

I suppose….

A small smile formed on Adam's face. He knew it was his own, probably one of the last in his physical body.

Think of it as going from one home to another, Adam, a home where you will be happy. It is the closest thing to your original destiny as you can get at this point.

Adam glanced over his shoulder at his fading mother. He could see Becky's body start to reappear on the ground.

You won't survive if you say in your body for this fight.

Adam watched Becky's outline become more defined. Adam looked around. The world was the natural one again. His whole body ached all of a sudden, crying out that something was wrong. Maybe it was the angel fighting his way through him, or maybe it was the shock of having seen his mother. No matter why it was happening, Adam Milligan could feel just how exhausted he really was.

He walked up to Becky's side with the bullet still in his hand.

She was rather annoying; but I can bring her back and send her on her way, if you'd like.

"Do what you want," Adam shrugged. After a moment, he nodded slowly, tiredly. "Yeah. Just… do what you want, Mike."

Michael nodded.

Adam blinked. He was sitting at his kitchen table, the plates and forks already set out before him. It was dark, but not dark enough to be true nighttime. This was a transitional time of day, or night. It was hard to say, but Adam knew it had to be the very early morning.

The front door slammed.

"Adam—you're home early! I didn't think you'd be back from school until tomorrow," Kate said, walking briskly into the kitchen. She planted a kiss on the top of his head. Adam watched her walk to the stove; she looked exhausted yet completely invigorated. Kate pulled a pan out from the cabinet and turned the stove on.

"Change of plans, I guess," he smiled. Adam stood up and walked to his mother's side. He put an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. God, he missed having her around. "What are we having?"

He was glad that he already had a good feel for Adam's body. Michael settled in quite easily and opened his eyes. The boy was so young.

He could still feel Adam. There was a very thin line between him and the boy's soul, somewhere in heaven. Michael felt it shake with something he had not felt in Adam during the time they'd shared his body: a calm, a happiness that was clearly foreign to the boy, having been absent from his feelings for so long. Michael could not help but smile a little.

Michael touched the side of Becky Rosen's head. The wound in her chest sealed up. She started to stir.

"What… what's happening? Where am I?" she asked groggily. She sat up. "I feel like I got shot with rock salt," she said, gripping her chest.

"It was something like that," Michael said with a soft chuckle.

"Who are you?" she asked curiously. "I was with this boy… he and I were looking for Sam. Sam Winchester, from the Supernatural books. Have you read those?"

"I've heard of them," Michael said, not paying attention to the girl. He stood up and looked around. The road was still completely deserted.

"Well, Sam is real. He's the most selfless, beautiful, incredible human being—"

Michael touched Becky's forehead and she collapsed on the ground. She exhaled softly and fell silent. He shook his head before sending her away.

Silly girl. She will never know who Sam Winchester really is. Adam Milligan will never truly know, either. Only Lucifer and I and our Father truly know. But… at least Adam is safe. He is in a home in which he belongs. Maybe… he is a curious one. Maybe, when this is all over, I can visit him. I still would like to understand Adam Milligan.

As Michael left with his mind on Stull Cemetery, he could smell eggs cooking somewhere far away.