By Myself Alone, a supernatural fanfic

Sam pummelled the pillow for the umpteenth time, reducing it to an amorphous mass.

He sighed into its softness, but it was useless. Sleep was fast becoming a fairy-tale realm, as impossible to reach as that of Snow White's!

Worry for his brother was overriding everything, and Sam knew nothing would be normal again until he got Dean back.

Not demons, but angels had somehow become the Winchesters' worst nightmare.

Sam himself had been used as a vessel both by Lucifer and Gadreel. Two angels, two completely different situations, however his body had been invaded by beings who considered humanity less than the smallest feather on their phantasmagorical wings!

And now it was Dean's turn to have his body violated by an archangel, one from an alternate Earth, even more rabid and savage than the home-grown version currently residing in the Cage.

At the thought of the prison he'd been held captive in and tortured for over a hundred Hell years, Sam's body shuddered in horrified memory of what he'd suffered at Lucifer's hands, most of which he'd never shared with Dean, nor had Dean asked him to.

His brother knew the pain of hell, he didn't need to hear the gory details.

Michael, however, had kept to himself, seemingly not willing to indulge in small talk with Lucifer. He'd looked on with bland sufficiency at the Devil's treatment of Sam, the occasional grunt of 'you asked for it' directed towards him.

But that was in the past; now Sam had to focus on his brother.

Wearily he pushed away the covers and got out of the rumpled bed. There would be no rest until Dean was rid of the cockroach inside him.

It would be complicated to free Dean from Michael's clutches, but Sam wouldn't let that deter him. When had either of them desisted even in the face of the most difficult task? When it came to saving each other's ass, there were no holds barred!

Wandering into the kitchen, he found he wasn't going to have the place to himself.

Castiel and the Bobby Singer from the alternate reality were sitting at the table. Castiel had the usual bland expression plastered on his face, merely nodding to Sam as he entered, while Bobby was toying with a glass filled with whiskey.

'Morning son,' was all he said.

All of a sudden, Sam felt annoyed by the people inhabiting the bunker, and he included his mother among them.

There was just something about Mary Winchester which made her difficult to love.

Hell knows, Sam could understand that her obsession with hunting suffocated that of playing mom, but what he couldn't overlook was the way she seemed to avoid him and Dean, as if they were more of a burden than her sons.

It hit Dean especially hard, for in his childhood memories, she was the perfect mother, and the reality of what she truly was, hurt his big brother deeply.

Sam himself, had never known her except though Dean's words, so he had nothing particular to angst over.

As if in aversion to those around him, Sam felt an urgent need to get away, be on his own.

At the end of the day, none of these people were important to him. Sure, they might have the face and body of friends he once knew, but this Bobby had never lifted him up as a kid, or called him and Dean 'idjits' the times they'd been dumped by their dad at the old hunter's salvage yard.

Swinging around, he made for his room, gathered up the basics, threw them into his duffle and left the bunker behind him.

He didn't need anyone's help in freeing Dean. The responsibility, and the honour, of saving his brother was his alone.

The thirty-six-year-old Sam Winchester who exited in all haste the bunker was no longer the naïve little brother he'd once been. A lifetime of hunting and rubbing shoulders with the scum of the universe had seen to that.

Not even Dean knew all of Sam's secrets.

So many dangerous books containing spells, incantations and curses were tucked away in Sam's personal book-hoard. That hoard was now in the Impala's trunk and Sam had no qualms in using the forces of darkness to save Dean if he had to, no qualms at all.

As with a squeal of tires, he sent the Impala skidding down the road, he already had an inkling of what he could try out first.

Squatting in a run-down warehouse, Sam pulled out one of the most ancient tomes in his possession.

It spoke of communicating with an angel, wherever the being might find itself, but without using the straightforward method of prayer, .

The danger of the spell was that the angel might be pissed by being contacted in an unorthodox way by a human, and smite just for the fuck of it, but in this case, there was no danger. The angel Sam was interested in was safely locked away in the Cage.

'Who calls to me?' a disembodied voice echoed in the air around the young hunter.

'Michael,' Sam asked. 'Is it you?'

'Samuel Winchester?' A note of curiosity tinged the angel's voice.

'Yes. I have a proposition for you.'

A hoarse growl filled the room. 'You wish a favour from me? You, who are the cause of my languishing here for centuries.'

'Well, you did want to destroy humanity, dude. I was defending my world, just as you fought battles for the defence of heaven.'

'What do you want?' Michael asked after a moment of silence.

'It's a long story, but essentially there's another version of you on Earth, one which has travelled from a parallel world where the apocalypse happened, destroying that civilization.'

'Another Earth? That was not in Revelation. You are lying, Winchester.'

'No, and just to keep you up to date, Dean and I have found and talked with God.'

'You… have seen my Father?'

'Yes, though he has temporarily gone off again… for... a…holiday. However, he was happy the Apocalypse was avoided. He still loves humanity.'

'You have given me much to ponder, Winchester…if what you say is true.'

'It is. I have no reason to lie to you, especially as I need your help.'

The angel let out a belly-laugh. 'My help? Imprisoned as I am, I can help no-one, not even myself.'

'What if I free you, Michael? Would you help me then?' Sam hissed.

'Why should I offer aid to the human who interfered in my fight with Lucifer?'

'Listen, that's all in the past, dude. Would you rather spend the rest of eternity in the Cage? If you say no to me now, then there's no hope of anyone ever bothering with you again. I'll give you thirty seconds to think about it, then Adios Amigo!'

'Just why do you need my help? If there is another version of me, then I should think you'd have your hands full as it is.'

'This Michael is using my brother as a vessel. I'm going to save Dean, but to do that I need to know how to get the fucker out of his body, then overcome him. Do archangels have a weak spot which I can use to defeat him?

Michael let out a very un-angelic snort. 'You must think me stupid, Winchester. I give you what you need and you welch on your promise, leaving me in the Cage. If you truly want my help, you'll have to release me first.'

'Swear to God your Father that you will not try to double-cross me,' Sam rebutted. 'I read up on you and it seems when you say these words, you can't break the oath.'

'You are well-versed in the scriptures, I see, Winchester. Too bad you are tainted with demon blood. But how can you open the Cage?'

'You let me worry about that. There's a spell which will let you through the bars. Now swear the oath or I'm leaving.'

'I swear on the name of God my beloved Father that I will not betray my word to Samuel Winchester.'

'Good,' Sam grinned in relief.

A moment later, Michael, still in the vessel of Sam's half-brother Adam. was standing in the middle of a ring of holy oil.

'You're out. Now tell me how I can get your doppelganger to leave Dean's body.'

Michael sighed. 'All archangels have a vulnerable area, the place where our Father's hand held us as he created us.'

'Like an Achilles' heel,' Sam commented thoughtfully.

'Yes. If you target that spot with a sword, the angel will feel such great agony that he will automatically morph into his true form and be drawn to heaven to be cured.'

'It seems too easy,' Sam said. 'Then how do we know where this spot is?'

'He is I, is he not? Then it will be where mine is,' the archangel replied with a huff.

'Another thing, Michael. Heaven's in a mess. It desperately needs a strong leader. If this goes down successfully, it's in your best interest to forget any kind of vendetta and go set things to right. When your twin gets pulled up to heaven, I'd advise you to imprison him immediately. He's a savage, even worse than you.'

Michael gave a wry grin. 'You might even begin to grow on me, Samuel. Your words are full of wisdom. I swear again on the name of God my Father that I will follow your suggestions. Now if you let me out of the ring of fire, I will find this other Michael and defeat him.'

'Nothing's gonna happen to Dean, is it? When you stick a sword into his body, I mean?' Sam asked.

The angel shrugged. 'He will have a wound where the blade strikes him, but it will not be more dangerous than what he has suffered in the past.'

'I'll hold you to that, Michael. If anything happens to Dean, then there's no place in this world nor in any other, that I won't hunt you down and kill you.'

Michael stared at the young human. He was an archangel with unlimited powers, and Sam Winchester a mere human, but nevertheless, a spasm of fear ran through him. Samuel was not one to betray.

'It will be as I say,' Michael confirmed.

'Fine. I'll douse the holy oil and let you through.'

The angel sat quietly in the Impala's passenger seat, a frown of concentration on his forehead. 'He is near, very near.'

Sam gave a huff of surprise. Michael had directed him towards Lawrence, Kansas, where the brothers had been born.

The moment Sam caught sight of Dean standing in front of their old home, he had to physically stop himself from running to him.

Michael's hand on his arm helped restrain him.

'The sword,' he said. 'Give me the sword, Samuel. Be ready to succour you brother when the angel exits his body.'

'Listen,' Sam added. 'I know you didn't hurt Adam when we were in the Cage, but I have a favour to ask. Can you place his soul in the same heaven as his mother? It's the least he deserves.'

'Consider it done, Samuel.'

As Sam watched, Michael sauntered up behind Dean and jabbed the sword up into his armpit.

A cloud of sparkling blue exited his brother's mouth and was drawn up into the sky.

Michael turned to give Sam one last glance, then disappeared from sight.

'Dean, fuck, Dean! Are you okay?'

Sam slid to the ground and gathered his big brother in his arms. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes, then dripping relentlessly onto Dean's face.

Thankfully the blood loss from the wound Michael had given his sibling, was only a trickle.

'Hey,' a weak voice whispered. 'Is that you Sammy, imitating the Niagara Falls all over my face.'

But, for the moment, Sam was bereft of words. He lifted his brother and carried him to the Impala, folding him gently into the passenger seat.

Never would he have imagined thanking that douche-bag Michael for saving Dean, but then life was full of surprises.

The End