AN: I was going over this and I realized how many mistakes there were and how I could make it a lot better, so I did… /shrug/

It was always going to end this way, I guess.

I was always going to end this way.

I can't do anything but watch as Lucifer uses my body; listen as he talks to Michael with my voice (and Michael answers with Adam's). All that demon blood I drank and I can't even figure out how to move in my own head. I wish he at least made me imagine myself in some sort of box or something, some sort of physical imprisonment to pound at and yell against and try to break out of. But all I can do is watch.

I tried to stop it, the apocalypse.

We all did.

I guess it wasn't enough.

That feels so much worse, when I think about how many people gave up so much and I still failed them all, with my hot temper and my demon blood. My mom died for me, but Azazel still put me (and my family) on the path. Jess died because of me, but I'm not sure if she realized it. Dean went to hell and back for me, and if you believe what Famine said then he came back dead inside, but I still trusted Ruby and her blood over my own brother and let the Devil out of the Cage. Castiel fell from Heaven so he could help Dean help me, but I still said yes to Lucifer because I thought I could beat him. Bobby ended up in a wheelchair for a while, and now his soul is in jeopardy because he made a deal with Crowley that didn't even work. Ellen and Jo got blown to bits sacrificing themselves so that we could try to kill Lucifer, but it didn't work. Anna died trying to stop this, even though at the time she thought killing our parents before we were born was the answer. And Gabriel, oh Gabriel, faced every last one of his fears and stood up to his brother, but all it got him was a grave. Not even a grave, just a pair of wing-shaped scorch marks on the ground.

None of it made any difference; we would always end up here.

I would always lead us here.

But I guess Team Free Will isn't quite done yet because now Dean's here, and he looks right at Lucifer but he talks to me, and he says he's not leaving me.

And Castiel just threw holy oil onto Michael? OH HOLY CRAP I JUST EXPLODED HIM!

And Bobby shoots at Lucifer, and I know he's shooting him and not me (because he thinks I might still have a chance?) – and I feel myself snap his neck.

I want it to stop, I need it to stop, but Lucifer is using my hands and he's bashing Dean's face in and there's no way Dean will get out of this one, but he's not even trying. He just keeps telling me that it's okay and he's not leaving me, and everything will be fine. Because he knows this isn't me.

He knows I didn't want this, as Lucifer pummels him again.

I know I didn't want this, as I see sunlight reflect off the ashtray I got an army man stuck in, in the backseat of the Impala way back when I was a kid.

I don't want this.

I won't do this.

I won't let my brother down again.

Suddenly, I'm back in control, but Lucifer is still inside, fighting to get out again. And unlike me, he knows how to fight inside my head.

"It's okay, Dean. I got him. It's going to be okay," I can barely get the words out because I'm concentrating so hard, and I throw the rings on the ground and open the door to the Cage.

But before I can jump in, Michael comes back and grabs my shoulder. "I have to fight my brother, Sam," he yells over the roar of the wind. "It's my destiny."

And I pull him down with me.

Because I am more than my father's son.

I am more than my past.

I am more than the plaything of angels and demons.

And I am more than my destiny.