Dean looked out over the horizon as the setting sun sparkled against the calm water. The lake gently lapped against the dock and an unusual feeling of peace overcame him.
The feeling was damned near unrecognizable these days.
He remembered this spot from a long time ago. His dad took him fishing here when he was four years old. It was the last memory he had of his father being happy. Less than a week later, the yellow eyed demon had killed his mother.
"Dean," a voice spoke, breaking into his recollection that he longed to forget.
Dean closed his eyes, shaking his head in astonishment. It was never ending; the angel's screaming in his head. They were always trying to find him, threaten him, threaten his family.
He didn't tell Sam or Skylar about the constant poking and prodding of his brain. How could he? They would be terrified that the endless voices would push him over the edge and any sanity he still possessed would soon be lost.
But he had endured 40 years of hell. As bad as life got, nothing beat the endless torture of having your body sliced piece by piece, or the heat from the lake of fire mixed with the screams of the damned.
"Dean," the voice said once more, and Dean sighed, relaxing into the chair he was seated on.
"Can't you assholes leave me alone for one damn day?"
"I'm not here for me – I'm here for you," the unknown angel said, his voice coming closer with each spoken syllable. "I wouldn't be here if you didn't want to speak to me. I'm not like my siblings. I refuse to pester and prod until you bend to my will. I'd rather have you come to me willingly."
Dean froze.
Usually, the angels that ran around inside his head were Zachariah, Castiel, Anna, and a few random ones that were begging him to say "yes." They wanted it to be over so that paradise could finally begin. They couldn't bare the thought of watching humans destroy themselves for one more day.
"Michael?"
"Yes, Dean," the angel confirmed, moving into his line of vision. Dean gazed upwards, squinting against the setting sun until is eyes fully adjusted. And there, looking down, was the spitting image of himself. "I believe you and I are long overdue for a little chat."
"You have got to be kidding me," Dean said, standing up quickly and backing away. "I'm not talking while you're wearing my damn face."
"You're my true vessel," Michael said, cocking his head to the side. "Naturally, I would look like you while on earth. Even in your dreams, if I appeared to you in my true form, you wouldn't be able to handle it."
"Meaning my eyeballs would burn out of my skull."
Michael chuckled at the morbid thought. "No, surprisingly. I would not allow that to happen. I want you to see my true form since I hope, that one day soon, we will become very close. I must admit, however, you would drop dead at the sight of me, but I can just bring you back to life were that to happen."
"What do you want?" Dean asked with caution, narrow his eyes at the familiar face staring back at him.
"Now you and I both know I'm here because of something that you want, not something that I want," Michael smirked. While the angel was vastly different from himself in both speech and demeanor, his mannerisms were eerily similar. "What will it take for you say to say "yes" to me, Dean?"
Dean held Michael's eye for several seconds, finding it difficult to spill out the words. The archangel was right. He had wanted to speak to him. But he didn't know what in the hell he was supposed to say! Michael crossed his mind more often than not lately, and while he hadn't prayed for him to appear like he often did with Castiel, a part of him was crying out for answers. And he feared only Michael knew how to respond.
"Can you kill Lucifer without ending the world?"
He knew his voice was as sharp as glass, but he didn't care.
"Why do you ask?"
"Can you, or not?!"
Michael took a deep breath against Dean's temper, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.
"My siblings have already told you that what is written, cannot be changed. Why are you so hell bent on twisting fate?"
"My wife's pregnant," Dean breathed out, running both hands on his face in pure agony. Things continued to go from bad to worse with each passing day and he felt powerless to stop it any longer.
"I'm aware," Michael said, nodding his head in understanding. "For six millennia, it has been written that John and Mary Winchester would beget two sons: the vessels of heaven and hell. After all, they weren't branded to one another and it took countless months of work to get them to fall in love. Furthermore, it has been written that a key would be created, and that heaven's vessel would watch over that key, making sure that it would be protected at all costs. You have done an outstanding job at making sure she would be ready to fulfill her destiny when the time came. But now, the hour is upon us where I am finally supposed to meet my brother face to face, and our key…doesn't…work."
Dean's head snapped to attention. "Our key? I thought she belonged to Lucifer."
Michael chuckled. "My brother was always bad at sharing. First, he didn't want to share our father with you humans, and now he doesn't want to share Skylar with me."
"What are you saying? That not only Lucifer can use her to open hell, but so can you?! I swear to God that if…"
"Relaaaax," Michael cut him off abruptly, clearly getting annoyed with Dean's impulsiveness like so many others. "I'm sure Lucifer already told you that the portal to hell can only accept one heartbeat at a time. But Skylar is not only the key to hell. No, she's far more than that."
"What?" Dean breathed, and he could feel his chest beating unnaturally fast at the words Michael was speaking. He wasn't sure how much more he could take.
"That's right, Dean. She is also the key to heaven."
"You can't…have…her," he growled out, his lips quivering with helpless emotion. Only hours ago, he was making love to his beautiful bride, promising to protect her from that moment forward, and he was failing yet again. He didn't deserve her and it would be best if he just let her go. But he wasn't strong enough to walk away.
Michael smiled in excitement, moving closer to Dean, causing him to back up in surprise. "She is what keeps the gates of heaven closed. Every person who has ever died resides on the outskirts of that pearly gate. They are reliving their greatest hits from their human life as we speak. But beyond that pearly gate lies my Father's house with beautiful mansions and streets made of gold. Paradise. And only Skylar has the power and ability to allow them entry. So, you see, Dean, without her, the entire universe fails to live out its destiny."
"There has to be a way for…"
"Say "yes." Say "yes," and I will protect Skylar and your unborn child. She is mine, just as much as she is yours. I don't wish to take away your future happiness, Dean. You have already rewritten what should not have come to pass. She was supposed to die by the hands of Lucifer tonight, kick starting the apocalypse to its fullest. Her death was the one act that was supposed to make you say "yes" to me. Because then, and only then, were you willing to do anything to strike Lucifer down."
"You can save her?" Dean whispered, a tear falling from his eye as he searched Michael for the answer he desperately sought. "How can you protect her when she has to die?"
"It's true," Michael said, nodding his head in affirmation. "She must be sacrificed. That's the only way for the universe to be balanced. However, there may be a loophole, giving you both what you crave."
"Loophole?" Dean croaked out, hating how paralyzed he felt.
"I don't wish to sacrifice a child, Dean. That baby inside of her is an innocent being, and as cruel as you think us angels to be, I say we right a few wrongs and fix the world rather than end it."
"Are you trying to manipulate me into saying "yes" so that you can hijack my body and fight Satan? Because otherwise, how can it be this easy? One conversation between us, and you're just willing to put my wife and baby first? Why? I sure as hell know it isn't out of the goodness of your heart, so don't give me that bullshit."
Michael put his hands on his hips, dipping his head low in consideration. When he began to speak again, it was slow and well thought out, as if he was lost in a memory. "Thousands of years ago, she fell from heaven at the speed of light until she crashed through the earth and into hell. Until then, she was with me, sitting beside my father's throne, a beautiful angel. I know her personally, Dean. On the inside. I knew that one day she would have to be sacrificed, and I've dreaded this day for several millennia. But if I have the opportunity to restore her, bring her back to you so that she can finish out living a miserable human existence, then so be it. Because that is what she wants. The only thing lying within her heart is you, Dean. I don't want to take that away from her."
"Wait?" Dean said, stepping closer to Michael as the dock swayed beneath his feet. "An angel? She's an angel?"
Michael scoffed, shrugging a shoulder in response. "Not quite, but close; a Seraph to be exact."
"A Seraph? What in the hell is a Seraph?"
"She was closer to God's throne than any of us. She signified light and purity, something she still possessed until you married her before the time was right. She was always meant to complete her destiny shortly after her seventeenth birthday. But the demons intervened and got to her father, lied to him, created a panic. You married her and then took that purity, turning it into filthy pleasures of the flesh. In heaven, she had six wings and held everyone's favor. But now…she's been reduced to little more than your plaything."
"Listen here you dick…I'm not going to stand by while you…" Dean paused as a horrifying realization began to dawn. "You have got to be fucking kidding me?"
Michael cocked an eyebrow, giving Dean a weary look. "I assure you, I'm not joking about anything I have said. It is all true."
"That's not what I mean," Dean began, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're in love with her."
"Excuse me?" Michael furrowed his brow, an amused look on his face as he crossed his arms against his chest.
"You heard me. You're in love…with my wife. You sick son-of-a-bitch."
"Unless you want me to smite you here and now, I suggest you cease speaking to me in this manner and show a little respect."
"I don't owe you anything, dick. And I'm not going to say "yes" when you want nothing more than to kick me out of the picture."
"She's human, Dean. She's a human teenage girl, knocked up with your child. She's no longer my Seraphina. So, for the last time, I suggest you shut your mouth before I raise your brother, Adam, from the dead and use him as my new meat suit, instead of you. Are we clear? All I need is the Winchester blood line, dating back to Cain and Abel."
"You can't do that. All this shit about destiny, and you're going to go with plan B?"
"It's not ideal, but it will do," Michael threatened, walking slowly past Dean and down the long dock.
"Where are you going?" Dean said, far from finished with this conversation.
Michael stopped abruptly, spinning around on his heels. "If you want to continue living in this God forsaken world, and I have no idea why any human would wish to put up with this torture, I suggest you let me in. Skylar will have to open the portal to hell so that I can lock Lucifer away for good, and any other demon that walks this earth. Afterwards, she must come to heaven with me to finally put all of creation to rest. Then, and only then, will this truly be over. Without the presence of demons on earth, perhaps corruption will diminish and there will no longer be a need to end the world. Do we have a deal? Will you say "yes," Dean?"
Dean gazed into Michael's green eyes, identical to his own. Was it all coming down to this? Had he really broken the first seal, and watched Sam break the last, only to give himself over so easily? Had he spent months running, fighting against the forces of evil that wanted to tear his entire world apart. Had Castiel pulled him from hell so that he could truly fall in love with Skylar, something he had always denied himself in the past. And now, it was all coming down to this.
He wasn't strong enough to kill Lucifer. Not by a long shot. Satan wanted his wife dead so that he could unleash hell on earth. Fighting day in and day out was excruciating enough, but if all of hell was let loose on their world, there would be no stopping endless destruction and vile acts. He only hoped that Sam and Skylar would one day forgive him for what he was about to do. This was the only way to save them all, and he prayed that Michael actually did care for his wife enough to keep her safe and give him back his meat suit once this was all over.
Glaring ahead , and standing tall, Dean narrowed his eyes in slight contempt as he spoke the words that every angel had been longing to hear.
"Yes."
