Thank you Jenjoremy for beta'ing and Ncsupnatfan for pre-reading. You ladies are the best xxx

It's Dean Winchester's 40th birthday, so I thought we could celebrate with a chapter. Enjoy x


Chapter Eleven

Lucifer was surprised by Naomi when she came as she wasn't what he'd expected at all.

She arrived with Bartholomew, and though he had a certain status as Lucifer's personal assistant, she held herself away from him as if distancing herself. There was also the way she looked. She wore fatigues just like the other angels, but she didn't look like a soldier in them. She looked more like a politician dropped in a warzone for campaign propaganda. She walked tall, her hair in a smooth bun, and her face was stony. In her hands was a large black bag. Lucifer was intrigued.

"Lucifer, this is Naomi," Bartholomew said when they reached him.

"Nice to meet you, Naomi," Lucifer said, and received a curt nod in return. He pointed to the woman at the table, scratching notes on a piece of paper and determinedly not looking up. "This is Maria, and this is Sam." He waved a hand at Sam where he reclined on the rack.

She looked Sam up and down, taking in the empty eyes and lack of expression. "He's why I'm here?"

"He is. Before Sam checked out, he was resisting my attempts to get some information from him. He has a way back to my world that I need. I searched his mind, but he was able to form some sort of defense against me. I don't honestly know how he managed to do it. I tried again after he broke, but I can find nothing there at all. It's like he's wiped it clean."

"I will find it," she said. "Nothing is ever truly lost. It's just misfiled."

"I am an archangel," Lucifer reminded her. "I do know what I'm doing."

She looked him in the eye. "I'm sure you do. I'm better."

Lucifer shrugged. It didn't really matter what she thought of herself as long as she succeeded.

"Okay then," he said. "Get to work."

"I can't do it with him on that," she said. "I need better access. The restraints are good though."

"In the south corridor there is a medical bay with a cot," Bartholomew said. "I can create restraints there."

Lucifer waved a hand at him. "Good. Go do that. Take him with you."

Bartholomew unbuckled the restraints that held Sam to the rack and dragged him out of the room.

Naomi looked around the library. "This is an interesting place. To think that something so human exists in our world still is remarkable."

"It wasn't accessed until I came along," Lucifer said. "I like it."

"I prefer Heaven," she said. "It's cleaner. I always worked better in a simpler environment."

"Ion said you accessed angels' minds and were able to wipe memories."

"I was."

"Why though?" Lucifer asked.

"Because Michael ordered me to," she said simply.

"But why would he want you to?"

"I never asked. I was just happy to obey."

Lucifer examined her smooth face for a tell. "You enjoyed it though, their pain."

She smiled cruelly. "Very much."

Lucifer sensed something of a kindred spirit in her. He didn't obey orders, but he did enjoy experimenting and expressing himself through someone else's pain. Sam was the best example of that. He was a work of art, enhanced by the fact it was Lucifer's vision that had broken him.

He thought perhaps Naomi would make a good second-in-command on the other side. That is, if she'd still follow him when they were there. That was a concern Lucifer had done his best to ignore. They would probably discover Michael was still alive, and some may prefer to serve their old commander rather than be under his new, better, leadership.

He hoped he would keep some of them, though he supposed it didn't really matter. He would have Jack. Together they would kill Michael and then the angels would have no choice but to follow him.

Jack might be problematic at first, when he heard Sam hadn't made it, but he would come around. Lucifer would create a story for him. He would tell of how he had tried to defend Sam from Michael, but how he had been destroyed to such a degree that even Lucifer couldn't bring him back. Jack would be upset, but he'd believe Lucifer. They'd really been connecting before he'd gone through that rift. He would believe his dad. For Lucifer's own son, he wasn't the shrewdest.

"They should be ready," Lucifer said. "Let's get started."

He led her along the halls until he came to an open door and the sounds of rattling metal. Lucifer saw that Bartholomew had attached cot-sides to a bed and had tied Sam's wrists to the metal with rolls of bandage. It wasn't as painful a setup as Lucifer would have liked, but it seemed Sam was without the ability to feel anyway.

Naomi set down her bag on a rolling trolley and opened it, taking out a shining metal box with a small drill attached by a cord.

"You're drilling into his brain?" Lucifer asked. "Not that I mind, you can do what you like, but I'm curious."

"This is how I accessed the angels' minds," she said. "If I cannot retrieve the information by other means, I will use this. It's my backup. I'm confident I won't need it."

Lucifer shrugged. She was apparently the expert.

She positioned herself beside Sam and pressed her hands to his head. "Stay back and be quiet," she commanded. "I like to appreciate what I'm doing."

Lucifer raised an eyebrow. He wasn't sure he liked being told what to do, no matter how intriguing she was. But then she started, and Lucifer's annoyance became awe. Sam was screaming. There was no sound as Lucifer had stolen his voice, but his pain was evident in his bulging eyes and wide mouth, the cords standing out on his neck. Lucifer hadn't been able to make him react at all, but this was beautiful.

"Why isn't he making a sound?" she asked.

"I took his voice," Lucifer said. "Force of habit. He's not been speaking lately."

"Give it back. I'd like to hear him."

Lucifer almost refused, he didn't want Naomi to think she could make a habit of giving him orders, but he wanted to hear it, too. He waved a hand and Sam's silence became ear-pulsing screams of pain.

"How are you managing that?" Lucifer called over the noise. "I couldn't get anything from him."

"I've not even started yet," she said loudly. "This is just softening him up. I'm finding his worst memories. There are many of them. He's seen a lot of pain and death in his life. What exactly are you looking for from him? Bartholomew said something about the Seal of Solomon."

"There's a way to create a door between worlds," Lucifer said. "It involves the Seal. I want to know the whole spell, where the Seal and other ingredients are, and how to do it."

Naomi nodded and concentrated again. For a moment Sam just screamed, and then Naomi pulled back and sighed as he panted. "It's in there, but I can't reach it," she said. "I'm going to have to step it up."

"The drill?" Lucifer asked hopefully.

"Yes." She flipped on the machine and the buzz of the drill filled the room. She brought it to the corner of Sam's right eye and said. "This is going to hurt…"

Lucifer gave a little shiver of excitement. That was exactly what he had been hoping for.


It took a day and a half to reach Needham, even splitting shifts at the wheel, and as soon as they arrived, they booked a room at a motel to use as a base and place for the rift to be opened. They got strange looks when six people filed into a room designed for two, but Dean didn't intend for any of them to sleep there. They would get Michael and get the rift open quickly.

Dean had driven with Castiel and Jack while Mary, Bobby and Rowena rode together in Mary's car. Jack had tried to talk on the journey, and Castiel had replied, but Dean had stayed silent, and eventually they both fell silent, sensing his need for quiet. On the final leg of the journey, Castiel encouraged Jack to try to sleep to gather as much energy as he could for when he faced Michael.

While they were gone, Charlie had accessed the newly-uploaded crime scene pictures, and she confirmed that they were angel kills. She had seen enough of them in her world to know for sure. That canceled the need to go by the morgue, so Dean took them straight to Crowley's old court at the asylum.

He and Jack went in first, with Castiel, Bobby and Mary closely following. Rowena reluctantly brought up the rear. She hadn't wanted to come, but Dean hoped she might be able to use the spell that had trapped Lucifer on Michael and so had persuaded her it was safer with them than alone at the motel. He didn't want them to be forced into a kill-or-be-killed situation before they could extract Michael's grace.

The place was as Dean remembered, although a little more dusty, as if it was out of use. He was worried they were following a false lead to the place, but Jack strode forward and marched towards the double doors that led into the throne room.

Dean rushed to keep up with him, his heart in his throat. Jack pushed open the double doors and Dean ran in, his blade in his hand, even though it was no threat to an archangel. He wanted to be armed, just as he wanted to be first. They all had a vested interest in getting Michael, but Dean felt that it was his more than theirs as this was his way to Sam.

Michael wasn't in there though, and Dean's heart sank. He hadn't been sure that he would be, but he was still disappointed. He supposed it would have been too easy.

There were people in there though, five demons with black eyes standing around the throne where a woman sat with her legs crossed and a look of supreme indifference on her face.

"Billie?" he asked.

She nodded and smiled slightly. "Hello again, Dean. It's always interesting to see you. And you, Rowena. I see you're in a better mindset than last time I saw you."

The demons threw back their heads and smoke began to pour from their mouths, but Billie held out a hand at a male and then lowered it. As she did, the smoke receded into his mouth. The others dropped like stones as their demons left them.

"The cuffs, Mom!" Dean said urgently.

Mary pulled the demon cuffs from her jacket and, with Bobby's help, she twisted the demon's hands behind his back and snapped the cuffs around his wrists.

Billie looked around and sighed. "All dead. I will never be able to understand demons. Just because they can hurt, it doesn't mean they have to."

"How are you alive?" Mary asked. "I saw Castiel kill you."

"That was Billie the reaper," Dean said. "Apparently she got an upgrade after. She's Death now."

"The Horseman?" Bobby asked.

"It's Horsewoman now," Billie said. "And Death was always so much more than that. He was eternal." She glanced at Dean. "At least he was supposed to be. I am a force of the universe though, in no way created with the same weakness as Pestilence, Famine and War."

"What are you doing here, Billie?" Dean asked.

"The same as you I imagine. My reapers reported angel kills, and since I know all angels are currently occupied keeping the lights on in Heaven, I guessed it had to be Michael. I want to speak to him."

"What do you want to speak to him about?" Bobby asked.

"Perhaps speak was the wrong word. I want to deal with him."

"You want to kill him?" Mary asked.

"Do you object to that? He doesn't belong here. He is a threat to the world I am a part of. With God and The Darkness gone, it falls to me to retain the balance. I am not opposed to killing, you know that, Dean, but I don't want this world destroyed as completely as his own was. I happen to like it. Put it down to my days spent reaping here. I developed a liking to the place."

"You can't kill him," Dean said.

Billie raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were aware of the status quo here, Dean. I am Death. You are a human. Which of us do you think has the upper hand?"

"But we need him to get Sam back," Mary said. "We need his grace."

"Yes," Billie said. "I know what happened to Sam. I get why you would want to get him back, too, but Dean and I have already discussed the impatience I have with the Winchesters' continuous encores. I know more now than I did then, but there are limits to even that. You are only useful to an extent."

"He's dead then," Dean said quietly. He felt guilty for being relieved. He should want his brother alive, it felt wrong that he wasn't, but he wanted what was best for Sam more than what he wanted for himself.

"Did I say that?" she asked innocently.

"Is he or isn't he?" Jack asked angrily.

"Mind your tone with me, Nephilim," she said carefully. "Whether Sam Winchester is alive or dead is not my story to tell."

"But you know?" Mary asked.

"Of course I know. I am Death."

Dean took a breath, tried to calm himself from the rapidly spiking emotions that were running through him, and said, "We want Michael dead, too, but we need something from him first."

"His grace, I heard, but what makes you think I will let that happen? Opening rifts is dangerous. You never know what might come through."

"Whatever it is, we'll handle it," Mary said confidently.

Billie shook her head, looking amused. "Really?"

"Give us a chance," Dean said, trying to keep the note of pleading out of his voice. "You're Death. Whatever comes through, you can deal with it in a heartbeat if we can't. And we have Jack on our side."

"Why should I clean up another of your messes?"

"Because I'm asking you to," Dean said.

She laughed. "You think that should mean something to me? You have already taken enough liberties in your life, Dean, with many powerful beings. Why would you think I would sign up to be another of them?"

"Please," Mary begged. "We need him back. We will take care of anything else that happens, I promise. Just give us a chance."

Billie looked thoughtful for a moment. "I accept that you have the power to do it with the nephilim on your side, but…"

"I can kill him," Jack said boldly. "And I can stop whatever else might come through. Just let us bring them back."

Dean was on the point of snapping at him that Lucifer didn't matter, but Billie laughed and nodded and he was distracted.

"Ah, yes, you want your father back. I would give that some serious thought if I were you. All worlds are mine, and I know what your father has been doing in that world."

"To Sam?" Mary asked querulously.

"To everyone," Billie said. She got to her feet. "I am not making a deal with you, but I will take you on in a race. Whoever reaches Michael first can do with him what they want. If I find him, I will kill him. If you find him, you can extract whatever you need and then kill him. I will even give you a chance to get ahead. This demon will be able to tell you something about Michael and his plans that you may not already know. I have heard what I need from him and I have my own opinion about what I heard. I will let you draw your own from what he says."

"We'll get his grace if we find him?" Dean asked.

"If you win, you can take what you like. If I win, it will be over, and no impassioned pleas will change my mind." She smiled slightly and said, "Good luck," before disappearing without a sound.

Mary breathed out shakily and Bobby laid a hand on her shoulder, but Dean took no time to calm himself before getting to work. It was a race now, and they needed to reach the finish line first, which meant they needed to know what this demon did about Michael. He took his arm and shoved him into the throne and then withdrew the demon-killing knife from his jacket.

"Talk!" he commanded.

He had seemed scared when Billie was there, but her exit seemed to have given the demon a false sense of bravado that Dean knew he was going to need to break. He was practiced at breaking down defenses though, he had learned how at Alastair's side, and he was going to put those lessons to use now, despite the fact his mother was watching.

He cut across the demon's cheek, drawing crackling light and blood, and leaned closer. "Let's try that again. Talk. What do you know about Michael?"

"You can cut at me all you like, Winchester, but I'm not talking. I want to see Death win, not you, and nothing you can do to me is going to change that. You Winchesters win too often."

Dean pressed the knife to his throat and made a shallow cut. "It's all in the name," he said.

The demon laughed. "You're pathetic."

Mary shoved Dean and he moved to the side automatically, his mouth dropping open as he saw his mother raise the angel blade she'd brought to the corner of the demon's eye. "Talk or lose the eye," she said.

The demon tried to hang onto his bravado, but when Mary pressed the tip of the blade infinitesimally closer, cutting into the skin at the corner of the eye and drawing a trickle of blood, he broke. "Okay! I'll talk! Just get that thing away from me."

"Not until I've had a chance to decide it I like what I hear or not," Mary said. "What do you know about Michael?"

"What was the message?" Dean asked.

"It was demons this time, but it will be angels next unless you give him the spell. He wants you to send Castiel with it. He knows there aren't enough angels left. He will kill them and destroy Heaven if you don't. He said he just wants to go home."

Dean glanced back at Castiel who shook his head. "They're not leaving Heaven."

"He said he'll find a way in," the demon said. "He said the rules don't apply to him. He can't be kept out."

"Kept out?" Mary asked.

"He doesn't belong," the demon said. "This isn't his world, but he said that won't stop him."

Dean felt a sinking in his stomach that he didn't immediately understand. It was better that Michael not be able to get to Heaven easily. Even though he said he had a way, it didn't mean he really did. They might be protected by staying there.

Then he realized what his mind had been shying away from, and he felt sick. If Michael didn't belong in Heaven here, Sam didn't belong in Heaven there. Did that mean he couldn't go there either? Was he dead and trapped in the Veil, or was something even worse happening to him?

He wanted to ask Castiel, but he was afraid of the answer. He shook his head and addressed the demon. "What else do you know?"

"Nothing, I swear. He didn't say anything else."

"What do you think, Dean?" Mary asked.

"He's telling the truth," Dean said, his voice weak even to his own ears. He had not been able to shake away his fear for Sam. "You can finish it."

"What? No! I told you everything!" the demon said fearfully.

"I know," Mary said. "Which means we don't need you anymore." With a cruel smile she shoved her hand forward, the blade cutting through the demon's eye and into his head.

Light blazed, and Dean looked away. A part of him was marveling at the coldhearted end Mary had executed, but the rest of him was filled with horror for his brother.

"Get the cuffs off," he said curtly as he turned and walked to the door. "I'll meet you back at the motel. Cas, come with me."

"Dean?" Mary called after him.

Dean didn't look back. He just held up a hand and said, "I'll see you at the motel."

He strode through the doors and then through the exit to the Impala. He climbed in behind the wheel and waited for Castiel to settle beside him before bringing the engine to life and pulling into the light flow of traffic.

"I know that didn't go as we planned, but at least we have a chance, Dean," Castiel said in a tone that was intended to be comforting but failed to ease Dean's tension. "We can find Michael first. And there is still a chance for a dreamwalker."

Dean shook his head and gripped the steering wheel. "Where's Sam, Cas?"

"He's dead," Castiel said confidently. "In the other world."

"I know that's what you want to believe, it's what I want to believe, too, but if he is, where is he?"

Castiel drew in a breath, and Dean glanced at him to see he looked almost afraid.

"He's not in Heaven, is he?" Dean asked.

"No," Castiel said quietly.

"How long have you known?"

"I always knew. I just hoped…"

"I wouldn't ask?" Dean guessed. "Now I'm asking. Where is he?"

"If Sam is dead, he is in the Empty. There is no other place for him there. He would not have chosen the Veil, and he cannot access that Heaven."

Dean gritted his teeth and tried to force back his tears. "That's sleep, right?"

"It was for everyone but me."

And if Sam's luck carried on the way it had his whole life, it wouldn't be for him either. "And if he's awake?"

"It's darkness with only the Entity," Castiel said, his voice steeped in misery. "But he might be sleeping."

"Do you really believe that?" Dean asked. "Because I don't. He's either being tortured by Lucifer or he's in that place, maybe sleeping, but more likely just wandering forever."

"I was only awake because of Jack. Sam really could be sleeping."

"It's still not enough!" Dean shouted. "Maybe he is awake, annoying the Entity like you did. Maybe he's been sent back because of it. He could be with Lucifer again now."

Castiel flinched. "I know, Dean."

"I'm never getting him back," Dean said. "Even if he is alive, he's going to be so traumatized that he'll never be the same. His soul can only take so much damage. You said Adam was gone. Sam could be, too."

Castiel took a breath and spoke slowly. "If Sam is alive, if he is even intact to the smallest degree, there is something we can do."

Dean's eyes snapped to him. "What?"

"I can take the trauma from him again."

Dean's mind reeled. He hadn't even thought of that. His heart began to race. If Sam was alive and they got him back, he could be really back. His new hell could be taken by Castiel.

"Would you really do that?" he asked. "It knocked you out for months before, and then you damn near lost your mind. And it could be even worse this time. It's more trauma added to what was already there."

"Would Sam for me?" Castiel countered.

"You know he would," Dean said. "Either of us would."

Castiel smiled slightly. "Then I will do it for him."

Dean's breaths came quick. "Thank you, Cas."

"So we're hoping he is alive now?" Castiel asked.

"Yeah," Dean said guiltily. "I feel like a asshole for even thinking it, for wanting him to be going through that rather than even having the peace the darkness would give him, but this means I might get him back."

"Good," Castiel said. "Because that is what I am hoping for, too."

"Cas, man, I don't know what to say. This is huge, you doing this for him."

Castiel shrugged. "The very first lesson I learned from you, Dean, before I even laid a hand on you in Hell, was that there should be no limits to what you would do for family. Sam is my family, so I will do this for him."

Dean felt a swelling in his chest that he didn't immediately recognize as he had been so crippled with anger and depression that he'd forgotten it existed. He was feeling hope. If they could find Michael or a dreamwalker, if Sam was alive there, he could have him back. It was incredible to think of.

They were racing against Death herself, and they had an archangel to find, but that seemed like nothing to Dean now that he had this to cling to.

Sam could be saved.


So… Things are moving on. We're so close to the moment you've all been waiting for now, and I can't wait for you to read it.

Until next time…

Clowns or Midgets xxx