Chapter Seven
Sam looked down at Lucifer's hand and back up at him, nodding. "But first…a little friendly advice."
"Oh, yeah?" said Lucifer, lowering his hand. "What's that?"
"You might want to watch where you're walking next time," said Sam.
A hand wrapped around Lucifer's throat, holding him in place. Sam whipped his lighter out, dropping it onto the ground. A circle of fire sprang into being around Lucifer, igniting the holy oil around him.
Lucifer looked up at Sam, pleasantly surprised. "Well, well, Sam. I never knew you had it in you. Good acting."
"He learned from the best," Dean muttered in Lucifer's ear. He was standing behind Lucifer inside the circle of holy oil, his hand wrapped around Lucifer's neck.
"Ah, Michael," said Lucifer. "Congratulations. You got me. The question is, how are you gonna kill me?"
"Like this," said Dean. He pulled a long, silver sword out of his jacket and rammed it into Lucifer's neck.
Lucifer convulsed as cracks of blue light shimmered out of his body. Dean twisted the sword as white light burst out of Lucifer. As Dean pulled the sword back out, Lucifer's body collapsed to the ground, dead. Sam stared down at Lucifer's body, and smiled up at Dean.
"You did it," said Sam.
Dean smiled at him also. "I didn't do it alone." He looked down at the circle of holy fire around him. "Mind helping me out here?"
Sam grabbed the buckets of water from their hiding place near a building, and dumped them on the ground. The water extinguished the fire, and Dean stepped out of the circle of scorched pavement. Dean clapped Sam on the shoulder.
"That was awesome," said Dean. "Let's get back to Bobby and Cas."
Dean placed a hand to Sam's forehead, and zapped the two of them to Bobby's house.
"How did it go?" asked Castiel.
Sam smiled. "Lucifer is officially toast."
"He's dead?" asked Bobby.
"Killed him myself," said Dean.
"Good job, Dean," said Castiel.
Dean smirked at him. "And you doubted me."
"Are you ready?" asked Castiel.
Dean frowned at him. "Ready?"
"To remove your grace," said Castiel.
"Oh, right," said Dean. "Sure, go for it."
Castiel approached Dean, looking at Sam. "You'll need to step back." Sam complied, watching in anticipation. "This will hurt a bit."
"Whatever, just do it," said Dean, closing his eyes.
Castiel reached forward, punching his hand through Dean's chest. Dean's eyes opened, pain evident on his features. As Castiel groped inside of him for his grace, Dean's skin began to crack, blue light shimmering out from him. Dean convulsed as Castiel grasped the grace and pulled his fist out of Dean. The cracks disappeared, the light vanished, and Dean slumped to the ground, unconscious.
"Dean!" Sam yelled. He rushed towards his brother, turning him onto his back. He began to shake him. "Dean, wake up!" Sam looked up at Castiel, slight anger in his eyes. "What did you do?"
"He has just become a mortal," said Castiel. "It will take some time for him to recover. He needs rest…but he will be fine."
Sam pulled Dean onto the couch in the living room, putting a blanket over him. Dean lay still on the cushions, resting.
The darkness swirled around him, cutting him off from reality. Two doors stood in front of him. One was pure white, shining and glowing in the darkness. The other was golden, sparkling in the light from the white door. He stood in front of them, trying to figure out what was going on. As he tentatively reached out for the knobs, the doors burst open, flooding him with white clouds.
Images flooded his brain: a winged being falling from the gates of heaven, a little shaggy-haired boy taking his first steps, flying among the clouds while watching over the people below him, the shaggy-haired boy handing him a wrapped gift—an amulet of protection, clouds of black smoke swarming him on a plain of an unknown location, the shaggy-haired boy—now a young man—laughing as he held up a small bottle of super glue in a diner, standing at the edge of heaven as he watched a young couple starting their new lives together, the young man singing along with him to Bon Jovi, the feeling of wind whipping by his face as he fell towards his new life, the young man laughing as they drove down the highway and listened to music coming out of the Impala's speakers—
His head spun as he tried to focus on one set of memories, but the second he tried, the other set of memories would barge into his head, competing for dominance. He groaned as he grabbed his head, trying to fight the images off.
Sam jerked up in his seat as he heard Dean groan. Sam got up and knelt on the floor next to the couch. Dean was grabbing his head, wincing in pain.
"Cas, what's going on?" asked Sam, worried.
"He is fighting his memories," said Castiel. "Both sets of memories are trying to dominate him, and whichever one wins, that's who Dean will be. We can only wait."
"You didn't tell us this was going to happen?" asked Sam.
"I did not know," explained Castiel. "This is the first time this has been done."
Sam watched, helpless, as Dean convulsed on the couch. His back arched off the cushions as he practically yelled in pain. Slowly, his features relaxed and he collapsed onto the couch. He was very still, and Sam waited with bated breath for the first sign as to who Dean was now.
Dean shifted his head to the side, burrowing into the pillow under his head. "Sammy…"
Sam's face lit up. "Dean." Dean's head twitched to the other side. "Dean, wake up. It's me, Sam." Dean's eyelids lifted, and he looked up at Sam. "Hey."
"Sam," said Dean. He tried to lift his head, but winced and collapsed onto the couch. "Oh, son of a bitch."
"You okay?" asked Sam.
"Oh, yeah, just peachy," said Dean. Sam smiled, laughing. "You think this is funny?"
"No, it's just…I never thought I'd be so happy to hear you complain," said Sam.
"I'll be sure to keep it up, then," said Dean. "Did we get him?"
"Yeah," said Sam. "Remember, we trapped him in a ring of holy oil and you killed him."
Dean frowned in confusion, shifting through his recent memories. It suddenly clicked, and he looked up at Sam. "Oh, right. I did."
"Thank you, Dean," said Castiel, approaching him. "We will always be grateful. And you will never be called upon again to help us. You've down your duty."
"You did good, too, Cas," said Dean. "Thanks." Castiel nodded, and disappeared. Dean sat up. "So…life in paradise." He looked up at Sam. "What do we do now?"
The end
