Surprise! Betcha thought I was gone for good. It is not so!
I'm not going to explain why I was gone for so long because I don't have the emotional strength to go through it again, so here's Dean fighting with an arch angel about jewelry.
Yeah, it's good to be back.
Dean leaned against the door frame of his bedroom late the next night, watching Petra. She was fast asleep, hair sprawled out around her face, which was turned slightly to the right. Her chest rose and fell slowly, in a peaceful rhythm Dean could easily get lost in.
His guilt was overwhelming. Every time he glanced at the cast on her arm, or the various stitches, or anytime he rubbed her burns with medication and helped her get dressed, his heart would squeeze inside his chest and the hair on the back of his neck would stand up.
He headed for the kitchen, unable to sleep despite the comfort of his lover beside him. He sighed, running a hand over his face, and pulled a bottle of whiskey and a glass from the cabinet. When he turned, though, he almost dropped them both.
His father was standing in front of him, young, just as he was before Dean was born. He looked tired, and had that expression on his face, the expression Dean knew damn well no matter what his dad looked like.
"What the hell," Dean said.
John looked sympathetic. "Hello, Dean."
As soon as he spoke, Dean could tell the difference. The man standing in front of him – or lack thereof a man – was not his father.
"Michael," Dean said.
"Yes," the arch angel confirmed.
Dean raised an eyebrow, looked around uncomfortably. "So, uh. I guess I must be dreaming, huh?"
"You're very comfortable in your bed next to Miss Osgood," Michael confirmed. "But I needed to speak with you, urgently. I thought this form would be the most welcome of any."
"Not really," Dean sighed, sitting at the small table in the kitchen. "I guess you're here to warn me about Lucifer, and how he's going to double cross us, and bring on the end of the world, blah blah blah?" He drained the glass of whiskey. Dream or not, he wasn't going to have this conversation sober.
"There's no point in warning you about things you already know," Michael said, sitting across from Dean. "Listen closely Dean – I'm sure you've figured out that Rowena is not dead."
Dean nodded, annoyed. "Yeah, I figured as much. Too easy, right?"
"Rowena is much more powerful than you think," the arch angel began. "She didn't just help Lucifer break the Cage – she locked me down. For the longest time I've been unable to move or even think properly."
"How're you here now?" Dean frowned.
"It's not important right now," Michael brushed him off. "What's important is that those objects you had Castiel hide – the ring, the journals, all of it – they're not safe. He's hidden them well, I'll give him that. Castiel always was one of the smartest. But even he can't hide them from Rowena. She has someone helping her."
"Yeah, Missy, we know," Dean frowned. "I guess she's alive, too."
"Rowena isn't just working with Missy," Michael said sharply. "Rowena and Amara have connected. They're searching for the items together."
"Amara wouldn't do that," Dean said quickly, and Michael raised his eyebrows.
"Dean, I understand that this . . . bond . . . with the Darkness is strong, but you mustn't let it cloud your judgement," Michael said. "She's manipulative. More powerful than you can know."
"How bad can she be?" Dean demanded. "We've dealt with worse."
"Worse?" Michael raised his eyebrows. "Dean, who do you think convinced Lucifer to rebel from God?"
Dean was taken aback. "What?"
"Amara never wanted freedom or the love of her brother, or whatever you may believe," Michael said. "Amara wanted everything. She wanted power. All of it. She tried to convince all of us – Raphael, Gabriel, Lucifer, and myself – to rebel, and we all resisted for a very long time. In the end, it was Lucifer who trusted her, and because of it, Lucifer fell."
Dean was in shock, and for a moment, could almost feel the Mark of Cain. He could feel the desire to kill and rebel, and the hate and anger and revenge he had wanted, and for a moment, he understood. The Mark of Cain wasn't just a demonic symbol. It was Amara's power, her feelings. And Lucifer had taken it with him when he fell.
"When Lucifer realized what Amara had done, he took what Darkness was left after Amara was banished and he gave that Darkness to Cain because he was strong enough to hold it," Michael continued. "And Cain gave it to you for that same reason. But when it was released, it all went back to Amara. There is nothing stronger than her. No one can stop her, not without an immense level of power."
"What do you need me to do, then?" Dean demanded. "Say yes to you? Cause I've been down this road before and you know how it goes."
"I'm too weak to leave the Cage," Michael said. "I can guide you on this but chances are good that the Cage is where I will remain indefinitely. The only the thing I can do is offer you guidance. Lucifer has a personal vendetta, Dean. It could get Sam killed. It could get you all killed."
"Rowena has been working with Lucifer this whole time," Dean frowned. "That much we had figured out. Why would she strike a deal with Amara if she's loyal to Lucifer?"
"Rowena is angry Lucifer didn't come to her aid after what your friend did," Michael replied. "She's not forgiving – your friend the Doctor can tell you that. Rowena thinks if she has the help of Amara she can be powerful enough to take out Lucifer, Amara, God, everyone. But she won't be. The power will destroy her, and have disastrous consequences. That much power has the potential to break all borders between Heaven, Hell, Purgatory, and Earth. It will all merge together and the world will destroy itself."
"What do we do?" Dean demanded again.
"One of you has to put on the Ring," Michael said, his voice deadly serious. "The Ring of Solomon will grant the wearer the control they need over Hell, and whoever the wearer is will be just as powerful as Rowena. They're the one who will have to wield the burden of danger, for the sake of the world."
"Which of us has to do it?" Dean demanded. "How are we supposed to decide something like that?"
"It's already been decided," Michael told him. "They have to put it on. They'll know when."
"Who?"
There was a rumbling overhead, like thunder, and Michael looked up.
"The Cage is trying to collapse on me," he said quietly. "I have to go, before I'm trapped for good. Good luck, Dean. If you need to get into contact with me, talk to my brother. He can help."
"Yeah, I somehow don't see Lucifer agreeing to that," Dean remarked.
Michael gave a small smile. "I wasn't talking about Lucifer."
He disappeared, and suddenly, Dean's eyes snapped open and he sat straight up in bed.
Petra rolled over beside him, muttering about the chameleon circuit in the TARDIS, and began to snore lightly.
Dean took a few deep breathes. He tried to regain his composure. Did he tell Sam about this? Telling Sam would also be telling Lucifer.
To hell with Lucifer, he thought, standing and throwing the blankets off. He shoved his feet into some slippers and made his way toward his brothers room.