14. Into That Good Night ― 23.09 (Do You Believe in Miracles?)
The first thing Dean was really aware of was the gravelly voice echoing from the corner of the room, the deep, rumbling sound ricocheting off the inside of his skull. At first, it seemed easy enough to ignore, especially considering that something inside him felt weird. Yes, something felt off… or perhaps, even lighter? It was like some heavy weight had been lifted from his chest, something that had previously been crushing him but also, until now, had not made itself known. No, that wasn't quite right either. It was more like… it had always weighed on him, but he'd never really taken much notice before now, he'd just assumed that it was supposed to be there. However, things felt very different now and Dean…well, he kinda liked it. He felt good! Hell, for the first time in a long time he felt positively fan-fucking-tastic! But the gravelly sound was still there and that was getting kind of irritating, especially since he was slowly rising into consciousness and nearly able to make out the words.
"… one story about Cain that I might've… forgotten to tell you…"
Dean was very confused and almost baffled. That voice… he knew that voice, but it wasn't Sam and it wasn't Cas… Damn, whose voice was that? He listened again, this time straining to make out the timbre and quality so he could match the discarnate voice to a face.
"Apparently, he too was willing to accept death, rather than becoming the killer the mark wanted him to be. So, he took his own life with the blade. He died. Except, as rumour has it, the mark never quite let go…"
Oh, god damn it. He knew who this was. The insistently incessant drivel had given it away after more than two sentences. Crowley. It was fucking Crowley.
"You can understand why I never spoke of this,"―honestly, with all the talking this demon did, Dean was surprised he hadn't previously shared it just for gossip― "Why set hearts aflutter at mere speculation?"
By god, was this guy ever going to get to the punchline of this bad joke? With Crowley here, Dean could only fear what was to come next. The issue was though, he didn't fear it. He didn't feel even the slightest bit afraid and for a moment he wondered if this was how empowered Sam had felt without his soul. Dean felt free and strong! He could feel it, bubbling away underneath his skin, a power quickly coming to a euphoric climax, a rock song reaching its chorus.
"…maybe miracles do come true." Crowley continued, Dean having zoned out of his droning for half a second. "Listen to me Dean Winchester, what you're feeling right now is not death, it's life! A new kind of life.
"Open your eyes Dean," the demon ordered, Dean momentarily struggling to do so as he felt his blackened soul roar to life like the engine of a jet plane. The raw power of it was so tangible, so decisive and strong, like it was ready to seek out this new life Crowley was harping on about. "See what I see, feel what I feel. Let's go take a howl at that moon."
He didn't have to think about it, he just had to do it, he just had to accept it and it would bring him to what it wanted. So his eyes flicked open and he suddenly saw it all, inhibitions removed, and that was the moment it all clicked nicely into place.