I want to thank everybody for the really sweet and thoughtful reviews I've been getting. Some of you are anonymous, so I can't reply, but I love hearing from you every time, and even though this story is over, I'd love to hear from you all again.
It's been a great run, guys. Are you ready for this?
Castiel and Gabriel only require a little more talking before they agree with me that killing Michael is the best plan. It's almost too easy to convince them, just look at them earnestly enough and insist it's for the good of everyone, it's so no one else has to die—which it is, it is—and they come around. To killing their own brother. I know I would never do that to my brother without him doing something seriously terrible to me first.
I find myself lingering around the empty Cage now, whenever I have spare time. Lucifer's not in there any more, he died when the old Sam did, but I wonder what he would think if he knew I was about to do exactly what he wanted to from the start. It's almost ironic; Lucifer's vessel will kill Michael with his power, all in the name of peace. But it's okay. I have Dean, now; don't I? I would do anything for my brother. This is gonna help him, right? It'll keep him safe. I'll make everything safe and I'll have Dean and that's all I've ever needed.
As I get better at ruling Hell from the King's Castle, I can speed our time up a little so I can get out. It gives Heaven more time to prepare, but Michael won't agree to meet me in Hell, and I need his guard down to be able to get the drop on him. Hell gives me Lucifer's angel blade when I will it to, and we're almost ready.
"Seiten," a Sho appears next to me. I've discovered a vague urge to make them stop calling me that. I don't like it. I like my name better. "Michael has agreed to a meeting. It is to be on Earth, and he requests that you bring a vessel."
Being a physical being, I've made Hell into a mostly physical place, so I wasn't exactly planning on ditching my body to meet with Michael. If I even can. I feel like I could, but I've never had an out-of-body experience before. It's frustrating sometimes; I've only been alive for a couple of decades. It's so little time.
"Good. Tell Dean and Castiel, and then Gabriel. Tell Gabriel that he'll stay in Hell for the meeting, in case it goes badly. Dean and Castiel will come with me." I dismiss the Sho easily, and it disappears to do my bidding. It must be the fact that I'm a younger sibling; I like having people follow my orders with no question. Absolute respect and obedience isn't something I've had a lot of in my life, but it's nice that someone expects me to do the right thing, to know what I'm doing, to make decisions for them.
Michael's probably on Earth already, prepared to wait until I arrive. Time isn't really an issue for Archangels. It'll mean the same thing to him if I show up in five minutes or five months. All the same, I walk into my throne room to meet Dean and Castiel. I want him dead already, threat eliminated, nothing to worry about.
Soon, everything's gonna be okay.
The plan goes like this: Dean and I will meet up with him. Cas will keep tabs on us, but not interfere unless things go pretty ugly, and Gabriel will only involve himself if Cas can't handle it. We'll do our best to make Michael feel at ease; suck up to him and try to convince him that we really don't want a war, because as far as Heaven is concerned we'd instantly lose. Heaven doesn't know how strong we really are, but that's our main advantage right now. They'll think we're desperate to avoid a fight, so they'll get lax, allow us a little closer, and we'll stab them in the gut.
Just like they did to me.
With a flutter of wings, Castiel and Dean arrive. I smile tightly at them, trying to conceal my excitement. Everything I've been working for culminates in this meeting. I have to look stressed, overworked, like I'm desperate to appease. Michael has to believe I'm afraid of him. I give Castiel and Dean a nod, and then Dean and I are topside for the first time in what feels like forever.
I take a deep, deep breath of air and let it out.
So much better. It's so nice to be topside after all this time, I'd almost forgotten.
We're in the little college town of Manhattan, Kansas, because I want this to happen in Kansas and everything always happens in Manhattan. Also, because if it didn't happen here I would have made it happen in Detroit.
Here I am. I'm the only one in my body, I'm going to kill Michael, and everything is going to be right. Just how it's supposed to be.
Dean's giving me a funny look, but he doesn't matter right now. I can deal with him later. I have to kill Michael.
No…Dean's supposed to matter more than anything else, isn't he?
Right, he is, but…Michael needs to die first. For Dean.
Once Michael is dead, I'll be able to be with Dean for the rest of eternity and everything will be okay. Everything I've done will be worth it, just as soon as Michael's dead.
Michael appears in front of us, without even one other angel. Arrogant. This'll be easier than I thought.
"Michael." I greet pleasantly. It's so easy, just to put on a charming smile and approach him casually, that I barely even register that I'm breaking script. I need to kill him. I don't care about making him let his guard down, I need him dead now.
He looks at me like he knows what's going to happen, like he's scared, and backs off one step.
Just one? Is he really only going to give me that?
His loss. Barely registering the words, I grip my angel blade and amble forward that last step, so that we're just barely touching.
"It's been a while, Michael," I murmur into his ear. He doesn't even have time to react before light shoots out of his body as he dies.
His corpse drops to the ground, and I feel vague stirrings of regret. I wish I didn't have to kill him.
But I do. He forced me into this. He was going to kill me.
It's not my fault I was made for this, it's not my fault our Father—
I come to a realization, suddenly, and I wonder how I didn't realize it before.
I'm not Sam Winchester.
I never have been.
I am Lucifer.
Somewhere, deep inside the mind that used to belong to Sam Winchester, there are the dying, feeble shreds of a soul.
Those used to belong to Sam Winchester, too. If Sam Winchester were still in few enough pieces to exist, they would probably be Sam Winchester.
I guess I should have known better than to expect this to end well, these shreds sigh as they let go of their last clinging holds. But I started the apocalypse. Of course I can't finish it. But you can, Dean. With dad and Gabe and Cas at your side, without me screwing things up all the time, you can do it.
Slowly, gently, the last remaining pieces of Sam Winchester dissolve into the atmosphere.
I know you can.
Second verse, same as the first. A little bit louder and a whole lot worse.