AU to early Season 5.

Chapter 1: To Fight

The hopelessness had been allowed to settle. Sam was somewhere else, Bobby left without legs and with a gift of lies. Dean was driving the impala to an unknown destination. Despair, self-loathing, Winchester breath; all of it whispering through Dean. No amount of miles would put him far enough away from who he was and his desperate emotions. Nothing to take away the end of the world, an event which had been going since the day his Dad's last breath had been to whisper to him the first sin.

Kill. It was all he'd been ordered to do, kill or save. His whole life that montage. Kill the monsters, save the innocent. Only the condemned or the saved; his father had raised him without the grey of those who had sinned but fought. Hunting had reinforced it. Now though he was one of those many, the ones who could never be saved but struggled away from darkness. And then they'd taken the one thing Dean had always been convinced was a light and turned him into one of those damned sinners who cried.

There wasn't any hope in this world and Dean knew the only thing he could ever do was fight. It was the only thing he knew and the only thing that stood with clarity in his life. On some old highway, in the dark of the night, Dean knew the only thing he could do was fight.

A figure appeared in the road and Dean slammed on his breaks, wheels screeching, teeth clenched and blood pumping as his heart vaulted from the surprise.

A man, in the road. Just standing, eyes staring intensely through the dirt grimed windshield and directly at Dean. Dean was caught by it, and in an instant the man disappeared. Dean withdrew himself from the car.

Stumbling towards the front of his car he saw blood brightened by the headlights of his baby. Drawn in letters large, that paved across the road, was the words 'God Listens'. Dean knew it was lamb's blood, he couldn't say why, he just knew. Dean immediately looked around for the man. And there he was again five feet from Dean, feet planted just inches from the bloody letter 'i'.

"Who are you?"

The man smiled. "I'm God, Dean."

Dean nodded, his disbelief coming through.

"I'll make it simple again. You'll be the one who kills the condemned; end the apocalypse before it can begin. You can be whole again Dean, just say yes."

"Yes to what?"

"To being my avenger. To end the pride of the angels, the avarice of the demons."

"I'm not going to be a goddamn vessel for Michael, so you can forget it."

The man chuckled. "I want Michael dead."

Silence. Dean stared at the large letters written in the blood.

"I made this world, I made the humans and my people, my other children have destroyed them. I want it to stop, and you want to fight. Say yes and you will be my soldier."

"I don't want to be anyone's bitch."

"You've always been someones bitch, Dean. You followed your father's orders, you fought the monsters because he ordered you to. I will only ever give you one order. Everything else will be you."

The man pulled out a gun, offering it to Dean.

"I called your name, Dean, now go do my will."

Dean grasped the gun and the man and letters vanished. Dean was left on the highway, his car parked in the middle of the road with head lights pouring light onto now empty pavement. He glanced around, almost expecting the man to appear again. Questions sparked in his mind, was it really God? And what was he supposed to do?

In an instant an answer came. It didn't matter if it was God, all that mattered was that he was given something that let him fight. Staring at the gun in his hand, Dean knew what he was supposed to do. The gun was meant to take the unclean, Dean knew who that had to start with. Pulling the gun up, Dean ran an appreciative hand along the barrel and over the handle. It wasn't a make he was familiar with, it wasn't one that had been made by a person, it was God's hand gun, God's weapon. Lifting the gun he set it in his mouth, cocking the gun he didn't hesitate to pull the trigger.

On the highway the only noise to be heard was the purr of the impala as it sat idle and the blast of a gun and the thud of body meeting ground.

Sam was in a motel, where, he couldn't remember. He was exhausted and nothing seemed to matter but the unholy distance between him and his brother, a distance he could never make up. He was settled on a bed, fully clothed and completely incapable of doing anything as of yet. His hands were clasped and hanging between his knees in what could only be a monsters mocking plea of a prayer. Sam hadn't prayed since the day he'd met an angel. Tainted body unable to produce words to invoke the mercy of a God who could only condemn him.

"Sam." Cas said urgent and worried. Sam startled, jerking up to where Castiel had appeared several feet away.

"Cas?"

"Where is your brother?" the tone was demanding, serious, and above all extremely urgent. Sam frowned, head still muddled.

"I-I don't know. I haven't seen him."

Cas looked around the room as if that would produce the missing Winchester.

"Something immense has happened, something with the angels."

Sam stood up, worry finally beginning to flow through him.

"What do you mean? What happened? Did something happen to Dean?"

Cas looked up Sam, eyes meeting his in an intense stare.

"There was a power, some kind of energy, something with the grace of an archangel, with grace beyond an archangel has appeared."

"What? How?"

Cas shook his head. "I do not know."

"Did the angels do this?"

"Angels could not do this, only-" Cas broke off, a new sense of urgency entering his face.

"I must leave."

"Wait, Cas!"

The angel was already gone.

Dean awoke, he was still standing on the high way. He was already upright, the gun still clutched in his right hand. A feeling of power washed over him, one of rightness that made his head spin with satisfaction. Dean looked at the gun in his hand a small smile spreading across his lips. He glanced back at his Baby and saw where blood and brain matter had splattered over the pavement and Baby's hood.

God had listened and Dean's body was thrumming with a power beyond anything he'd ever experienced. Determination spread though him and a sudden knowledge of exactly what he had to do.

The angels had better run, Dean Winchester was out to do God's will, and God was gonna cut them down. In a flash Dean was gone.