Servant of Heaven

Summary:

Heaven went through great lengths to secure Dean's destiny as Michael's true vessel. However, Chuck...nay...God ensured something else: the coming of the Righteous Man. With Dean dedicated in taking the fight to Lucifer and his army, Team Free Will stumble upon discoveries of Dean's other destiny. As a man so eager to screw destiny in the face, Dean learns that sometimes there are certain roles that one has to accept. After all, the righteous man who begins it is the only one who can finish it.

Notes:

So, you've stumbled upon this story. And you wonder, should you read it or not? Perhaps I can help you make that decision. This is a Dean story. For those of you who always wanted a Myth-Arc for Dean, this story may be for you. For those of you who wished SPN writers expanded more on the Dean is the righteous man storyline, you should read this. For those who wanted Dean to have a bigger role in the finale of the apocalypse...keep reading. Before I get carried away and spoiler everything, hopefully I can let the story itself convince you to keep reading.
As a note, this story is divergent from canon after 5.18, Point of No Return.

Prologue

'Can a mortal be more righteous than God? Can even a strong man be more pure than his Maker?' –Job 4:17

Chuck's right hand trembled. The ice cubes clattered against the glass he was holding as he raised it to his lips. Watered-down scotch burned his throat before he slammed the glass back onto the table. He rubbed his hand across his face, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He stared at the screen, at the last sentence he's written:

Pushed to the edge of his breaking point, Dean responded in a wrecked voice, "Damn it, Zachariah. Stop it, please. I'll do it."

Chuck had already seen Dean say yes, yet he couldn't bear write that part down. His stomach churned as the past visions replay in his head:

"I rebelled for this?! So that you could surrender to them?" Castiel yelled, his heart twisting in agony. He fought and stormed his way through Hell, only to find Dean broken and battered. This time, he fought and waged a war against Heaven, and still he would fail to reach Dean in time. He slammed Dean against the brick wall, punching, hoping to spark that beautiful light inside of the Righteous Man. But how could you save a man who didn't want to be saved?

Why was Sam doing this? He should let Dean rot in the panic room. He gave Dean a long look. "Because..." I need to know that I haven't lost you. I need to know that you can beat Michael. I need to know that you haven't given up. "You're still my big brother."

Bobby stared incredulous at Dean. "What the hell happened to you?" Where was that give-them-hell attitude? He knew Dean wasn't perfect. He'd seen the boy fallen so many times, seen him given up, but Dean always found that fight inside him. Dean always rose back onto his feet...but this...wasn't a man grieving, or in desperation, or despair. Before Bobby stood a broken man.

Chuck grabbed his glass once again and took a swig. Nothing but melted ice. He groaned and went in search for his bottle. So many possibilities to happen in that trap that Zachariah set for Dean. Chuck had only caught snippets and flashes, but nothing concrete that he could grab on to.

"Come on, Dean. I chose you for a reason..." Chuck muttered. "Alastair lied. Your father was never the righteous man." He chuckled bitterly. "He was self-righteous, driven by hatred and revenge. Much like your brother." He slumped down into his seat, trying to push back the memories of his other life.

He was Chuck now. He gave up his past life a long time ago. The Bible used to call him righteous and wrathful and all-fearing. He was no longer that.

"You're flawed, Dean. I know that. But I also know your heart. Your love for humanity is greater than yourself. Your love for family… You're not afraid to be alone, Dean. A part of you that you're unaware of wants to be equally loved by how much you love others…We're alike in that aspect."

The recent vision of Dean staring at his hemorrhaging brothers flashed across his mind. The vision of Dean pleading out in Bobby's junkyard, pleading for him a few weeks prior still haunted Chuck.

"There's not a dark empty inside you, Dean. Famine's powers just didn't affect you. Just like how you didn't fall to War's delusions. The powers of the Horsemen don't affect you!" He found his bottle of scotch and chugged down the contents.

Another past vision resurfaced:

"The whore can only be killed by a true Servant of Heaven," Castiel told Dean.

Chuck groaned and massaged his temples.

"This is why my team's going win. You're the great vessel? You're pathetic, self-hating, and faithless. It's the end of the world. And you're just going sit back and watch it happen," the Whore of Babylon sneered.

Dean grabbed the cypress stake and jammed it into her chest. "Don't be so sure, whore."

Chuck stumbled against the desk as a pounding pain exploded in his head. He dropped the bottle and it clashed to the floor. He fell to his knees and grabbed his temple.

"Michael's not going to kill me," Zachariah scoffed.

"No," Dean said, as an angel-blade slipped down the sleeve of his jacket and into his palm. "But I am." He jammed the blade up through Zachariah's chin and into his head. Dean glared hard as the dick angel's white light exploded within Zachariah's vessel. The blast only sent Dean sprawling back into the corner of the room.

Chuck gasped as he jolted back to the present.

Dean's eyes…

They weren't reflecting the white light of Zachariah's true form, they were glowing on its own.

Dean's eyes glowed opalescent.

Chuck's raised a fist to his mouth and released a mix of a laugh and a cry.

Dean survived the blast of an angel nova.

Chuck sighed in relief.

Heaven may have gone through great lengths to secure Dean's destiny as Michael's true vessel, but Chuck...

Nay, God ensured something else:

The coming of the Righteous Man.