Alright it was pretty absent minded of me to post two chapters for this fanfiction over the 4th of July weekend. I was a little surprised at the complete lack of reviews until I realized, oh duh everyone is out celebrating right now to be reading ship fics. So that was kind of silly of me, but at least it occurred to me later. I was worried the last two weren't up to snuff or something.

Anyway, this is the next chapter and I hope that you all enjoy it.

Chapter 23: I Can't Wait for the Nights With You

It was hard to find a room in Heaven that was truly unique. There had been so many humans who had died over the millennia since Michael had taken on the task of watching over Earth that the patterns were inevitable. Musicians who dreamed of concerts and pleased crowds, poets and dreamers who were surrounded by beauty perfectly captured by the written word, blessed lunatics who finally were able to see everything in the clarity that made perfect sense. During his long, enduring task he had seen every single good memory humans could possibly hope for in their paradise and there was nothing left.

The one in front of him was nothing special either, in fact rather bland. Nothing more than a gym decorated in silver tinsel and a cheap disco ball spinning while a young man was sitting in a corner, currently engaged with the female in his lap. The archangel could go to any other teen who had died this week and probably find the same scene with only a scant amount of effort on his part. The child in the embrace was not unique or interesting in many ways, nothing more than yet another human who'd been cut down and put away in his box for the rest of eternity.

Yet Michael watched him, pondering over his nature, wondered if maybe there was something more to him that the celestial being had yet to realize. Like fish in an aquarium, the soul continued on with its little life, seemingly unaware of the much larger being leaning over the display to observe.

It was true that there was nothing unique about him. Adam Milligan was almost a copy of Dean Winchester, and an imperfect one at that. Another son of John Winchester, a spare and nothing more, less than a footnote in the story that was being told now. Yet something felt… deeper about him, more important than what he should have been. The archangel wasn't even sure why, something small and fleeting that he couldn't quite grasp.

The humans liked to say his Father worked in mysterious ways, and the archangel was no stranger to the concept. His ways hadn't always been easy to understand, even when He'd been around. It was a blessing and a curse in a way. The orders were always easy to grasp but not always the reasons behind them. He'd demanded the angels bow to humans, to serve them, and Michael hadn't always understood why but he felt he took good care of them, gave them what they needed to be comfortable and cared for. God had ordered His son to take Lucifer and throw him down, to banish him to Earth and then to the cage. It had broken something inside of him, but his Father's will was absolute. It was not to be questioned, only obeyed, even if you didn't understand just why the orders had been given in the first place.

It did help keep the others in line, even in His absence. Most didn't even realize He was gone. Known to be a little flighty and very wrathful to those who questioned, that reputation helped the soldiers toe the line and do as they were told. Michael may not speak with his Father's voice as much as he claimed to, but he knew His will… or at least he thought he did.

"You are absolutely sure the prophet saw Sam Winchester confront Lilith?" he asked as he watched the room, laying a hand over it so large he practically engulfed it under his palm. Zachariah was small in his acquired human cage next to him, flesh wrapped around his true visage, minuscule. In Heaven there was nothing but the perception that the angels wanted humans to see, but down on Earth were all was flesh and constrictions, limits were required to bring them down to something more acceptable to the minds of their flock.

Maybe it was the weak flesh he wore now, or maybe he didn't want to be there at all, but Zachariah wasn't looking at him and seemed hesitant all around. Even focused on the prep-mating between Adam and the illusion girl that had been created for him, he could tell that the other angel was uncomfortable. Michael didn't have time for discomfort. He wanted answers.

"Answer the question, Zachariah," he said, his voice calm. He never raised his tone. He never needed to.

"Ah… Yes, he saw the vision. It just didn't come to pass for some reason," the angel replied. "We aren't sure what happened."

"Did he see Lilith die? Did the cage open?" he asked.

"He did. He tried to warn the brothers but I'll keep a lid on things. It won't get out of hand."

Michael's palm on the room twitched, leaning over it as he watched Adam closer. The action caused a sudden shake in it, like the jolt of a tremor or a very minor earthquake. The soul inside seemed confused, even a bit agitated as he looked around, but soon was distracted again by plush lips sucking on his neck. Michael pondered over the implications of a God gifted prophecy not coming to pass even as the two began making out in fervor again. Something was wrong, he could tell.

His Father's plan was divine, absolute, willed by fate itself. However, there had been courses that had needed to be corrected at times. Mary and John had loathed one another at first, had been willful against their mating. He'd personally arranged the cupids to handle it, to get them to breed the two needed vessels no matter what it took. It hadn't been the only incident over the many years, and it seemed it hadn't been the last either. He always had looked at it as foolish little beings too sure of their own free will to know any better, but this latest incident could not be tossed aside so carelessly. A prophet was divine in ways even he no longer was, receiving word from God Himself. If this Chuck has seen it, then it should have happened.

Unless… His Father wasn't well known for changing His mind, but it did happen at times. Was this some sign of the winds of fate shifting, or was it a test for Michael, to see if he would stay on course? He couldn't know for sure, but he supposed that would be the purpose of the test if there was one.

"How is the search for Lilith going?" he inquired.

"She still seems to be holed up somewhere. There haven't been any more broken seals. She's no doubt still weighing the pros and cons of continuing her mission to unlock the cage," Zachariah reported. "Her confrontation with Sam was supposed to get her moving again, but since that didn't happen… In any case, I sent Castiel to communicate with Dean and try to see if Sam could be used as bait to draw her out but he's been fairly skittish every since those two mud monkeys got their memories back. He's already been demoted, but then my concern over his loyalty is only getting bigger. He's feeling too much empathy for his charges, especially now."

"He might need to be called back temporarily, since the last one you chose to look after him thought it would be a good idea to recruit for Lucifer," Michael mused. Zachariah flinched at that, but it was to ignore. Michael himself had dealt with the fall out of that mess, killing all that Uriel had been able to convince before dissent had spread too far. "Continue with your report. Is there anything else we should be concerned with?"

"There's the issue with Lilith's agent."

"Which one?" he asked.

"The demon whore who was seducing Sam into unlocking his abilities. It seems Dean has killed her."

That caused Michael a bit more worry than he would have liked. She was paramount in bringing Sam to Lilith at the right moment. He wouldn't have been concerned over it normally, knowing Lilith could simply use other means to allow the human to find her, but apparently she was now doubting the plan herself.

"That is disturbing. We might need a contingency. Things are getting off track here."

"They have been ever since those two starting making googly eyes at each other," Zachariah snorted.

"In a life you built for them," Michael reminded him, to which the angel started to stutter. "Stop. I don't care about your explanations. As long as they walk the path in the end, the exact definitions of their feelings for each other are negotiable."

Honestly, it might have even been more fitting concerning his own feelings for his brother. Lucifer had been his purpose, his all, for so long. He'd raised him, taught him to be an angel, and the Morningstar had shone with a brilliance that awed even him. To this day he still loved him, but he loved him for what he had been, not the twisted and angry being that was willing to blame all the suffering of his life on anyone but himself. He'd been fine with his narcissism when Lucifer had wanted everyone to adore him, but when he'd demanded everyone feel the same hate as him, it had all gone too far. Affection for him or not, he'd needed to be stopped.

Since then, he hadn't allowed himself to feel for anyone in the same way, refused to see the other angels as his siblings or allow them to get close and risk hurting him in the same way, only as soldiers. Family and love were not as important as the mission. Dean would see that too, no matter what emotions cropped up along the way.

"Without the other seals broken, we can not continue. Lilith will be put back on track, made to feel she has no choice but to continue. She will follow the plan if she fears she'll die anyway, a final defiant strike against Heaven."

"How do we do that?"

"Find her."

"Ah yes, but her magic tricks are unfortunately keeping her well hidden, even from us. I-"

"Send out all we can spare, everyone who is not vital to the current plan," he ordered. "Hound her every step, make her come out from hiding and start to run. Make her feel FEAR!"

Michael did not yell, but there was a presence to him that could not be denied. His voice boomed like thunderclap, echoing over all of Heaven. The force of it shattered the walls of the room he was observing, enough to get the human's attention fully this time. Adam looked up and saw eyes all around, embedded in wings dark enough to be the night sky and all pointed directly at him. A scream tore through his voice before it simply cut off, the human soul grasping at his throat.

In a moment it was like nothing had happened at all and Adam was back to kissing his illusion without issue. Scooping up the remains of the wall to the room, Michael put it back together without effort. The boy's birthday was on September 29th, Michaelmas. The archangel pondered if maybe that was a sign of some kind.

He was so wrapped up in philosophizing the details of this soul he hadn't even paid attention to Zachariah fleeing as fast as he could.

"Damn, it's pouring out," Dean muttered as he turned up the speed of the window wipers as high as they could go. Even then he could barely see past the sheet of water beating down on his baby. It was only the confidence in his own driving and knowing the way to the junkyard that allowed him to stay on the road as he made his way to Bobby's. "You have anything to do with this?"

"I don't control the weather, Dean," Sam mumbled.

"Hey, we don't know what you can do," Dean replied. "Could be a bad mood of yours. Maybe your time of the month affects the position of the moon. Don't go and cause any tidal waves if you get bitchy."

"Are you joking and trying to cheer me up or genuinely pissed right now?" Sam asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Bit of column A and B if I'm being honest," he admitted. "Still, if it's not you-"

"It's not me, damn it."

"If it's not you, it still feels like a pretty bad omen. It was sunny out not ten minutes ago," Dean continued. Think something is going on?"

"When is it not?" Sam asked, and Dean had to admit that was a pretty good point.

"Well, we'll figure it out when we arrive," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. "Speaking of… uh… concerning how much we're going to tell Bobby. Look, he helped raise us but I'm figuring he's not going to be cool with the whole thing between us. Maybe we should keep that on the down low?"

"Yeah, agreed. Don't think I want to push the luck of how cool he can be with that kind of thing," Sam admitted with a shallow little chuckle that sounded like it was more to hide his embarrassment than any actual humor. "Let's just see how much of a disappointment he's gonna find me for getting hooked on demon blood."

Dean sighed a bit, partially wanting to bitch him out for it again, but he just kept his mouth shut. It sounded like Sam was doing a fine enough job beating himself up for it. There was no point to add to it.

"We'll figure it out, Sammy," he promised. "You know I'm always here to help you."

His brother actually gave him a little smile before going back to staring out the rain soaked windows.

They arrived before much longer, pulling their jackets over their heads as they ran inside of the house. Bobby was waiting there with some towels and a couple beers. Dean stopped short at the sight of him, actually a bit surprised by the scruffy look that he always had. For a second he'd expected him to be more clean shaven and in cleaner clothes, how Ellen liked him before he had to firmly remind himself that Ellen didn't have any preference for how he looked because they weren't his parents.

Rubbing at his eyes to force the idea away, he couldn't help but wonder if these flash memories were always going to be a problem for him. It was weird, cause he was feeling the strangest urge to call Jo and make sure she hadn't shacked up with any weirdos lately, and it was guaranteed she would take the completely wrong way.

"You alright?" Sam asked.

"Peachy," he replied, not wanting to get into it. "Hey Bobby."

Luckily calling him by his first name didn't feel too weird.

"Hey boys. Have to admit, wasn't expecting what you told me over the phone," the older man said, eyeing Sam closely as he took a sip of his beer. "Mmm, not spitting out the holy water. That's good."

"You spiked my drink with holy water?"

"Can't ever be too careful," he replied with an unapologetic shrug. "Needed to be sure."

"I… I guess that's fair," Sam sighed out. "I want to stop. I just don't know if I can on my own."

"Let's take a step back first," Bobby said as he led the two into the living room so they could all sit down and talk. "I'm going to need as much information about this as you can give me. This isn't the kind of thing that's covered in my books after all. How'd it start?"

"Ruby told me about it. She explained I could use it to get stronger, and I started to use it to defeat demons. With practice and drinking more and more, I was able to save a lot of lives by banishing the demons back to Hell, and eventually I could kill them. The idea was to use them to finish Lilith off when I got strong enough," he said. "I started a short time after Dean died."

"And you've been doing it since then?" Bobby asked but Sam shook his head.

"I was able to quit once but… there was a point I wasn't getting any," he admitted. "At first I thought I was just getting sick, but I think it was withdrawals. Shakes, pains, even a bit of a fever."

"Wait, that's what all of that was?" Dean asked. Damn it, and he'd just been giving him painkillers and the like.

"You saw him going through it?" Bobby asked. "What did the withdrawals look like?"

"Ah… it was… Thought it was a cold," he excused with a blush. "I mean, it happens at times. Didn't realize what it was."

"All right. Well, that isn't much to go on. I think we need to see if we can lure Ruby to us to trap her, get some answers out of her," the old hunter mused. "When's the last time you saw her?"

"Couple days ago in Ohio," Sam supplied.

"Yesterday when I stabbed her to death?" Dean stated at the same time.

"What?!" Sam cried out. "You killed her?!"

"She was poisoning you, Sammy. What was I supposed to do?" he asked. "Didn't know you still had some kind of attachment to her."

"I mean, I don't," he denied immediately. "But she was still our lead to Lilith."

"Except she was probably going to just carve you up into little pieces and serve you up to Lilith on a silver platter, or worse yet try to take on the whole Boy King of Hell role and get you to call the shots while she was in the prime position to whisper in your ear," the eldest Winchester muttered. "Better off that she's dead."

"Christ, you two," Bobby groaned as he rubbed at his forehead. "We might have gotten some answers out of her, but she's always been pretty elusive. Maybe it's for the best, but that leaves us pretty much in the dark."

"The only important thing right now is that Sam kicks it. Last time you went through withdrawals, but it wasn't anything that wasn't manageable. We should try to just have you give it up cold turkey," Dean suggested.

Sam seemed a bit unsure, wringing his hands together, but eventually he took a deep breath and nodded his head.

"Okay," he agreed. "If that's the best plan we've got then that's what I'll do."

"Don't think you should be hunting right now though," Bobby suggested. "Probably best if you stay here so someone can keep an eye on you."

"Wait a second, what about Lilith and the seals? Look, I can agree with needing to cut it out completely but she's still out there. We need to do something about that!" Sam protested.

"We will," Dean assured him. "This was supposed to be my job from the very start. You've let me take care of this and just focus on getting better."

There was an argument in Sam's eyes, but Dean continued before he could voice it.

"I'm not going to fight with you about this. You stay here until you've kicked it and we know you're okay," Dean demanded.

"This is unbelievable," he muttered before slammed down his drink in large gulps. "Fine."

"About how long before you start getting the shakes, boy?" Bobby asked.

"I think a couple weeks, but I haven't drunk any for a while."

"How long?" Dean asked.

"Since when she cornered me in the alleyway," Sam stated elusively, only giving enough details that Dean would get what he meant. "It'll start with headaches and aches… probably in the next few days."

"All right. Then you need to get in the panic room," Bobby decided.

Both boys looked at him in confusion at that.

"Is that really needed?" Sam asked uncertainly.

"I'd like to say I'd be able to keep an eye on you the whole time, but the fact of the matter is I got to sleep sometime. I've seen plenty of hunters with addictions that could cripple them. It's easy enough to say you're going to stop, but when the need sets in they'd do just about anything to get their drink or hit. I don't doubt your willpower Sam, but it's going to be stretched pretty thin when the time comes."

Sam looked wildly between the two, suddenly grabbing Dean's hand.

"We need to talk privately," he hissed to him.

"Sam, look I agree with Bobby. You-"

"Dean, please."

The pleading look was too much to deny and he sighed before shrugging.

"Fine. Give us a few minutes," he said to Bobby before allowing himself to be pulled along into the hallway. "I'm not going to disagree with him, Sam. You want to quit, this is how we do it."

Sam ignored what he was saying and pulled him into a frantic and needy kiss. It caught Dean completely off guard, having to bite back a moan as his brother's hand grabbed his ass and squeezed.

"Hey, I thought we didn't want him to know," he hissed quietly when Sam pulled away, panting hard. "You want us to get caught."

"I can't," he breathed. "I can't go in there. I don't want to be without you."

The hell? That was the issue here? He was getting more worried about being separated from Dean than he was about the blood.

"Hey, I'll be here," he promised Sam. "I might have to go out on a hunt or two, but I'll always come back. It's not like you have to be void of any human contact or anything. You just stay in there and I'll bring you meals and talk with you and anything else you need."

"Promise me I won't lose you. Promise me you won't abandon me," he demanded desperately.

"Jeez, I promise," he said as he gripped Sam's shoulders. "Get a hold of yourself."

This was probably the most freaked out his brother had been since they'd started discussed any of this.

"Look, I promise you it'll be okay, Sam," he said, his tone softer and more sympathetic this time. "You're going to be okay. I've stuck with you so far. I won't leave now."

Worry clouded his expression, all the way to leading him into the panic room and locking the door behind him. Dean immediately opened the window to show him he wasn't going anywhere. Waving Bobby off with an assurance they'd be fine, he reached his fingers through the bars so he could touch Sam's.

"It's going to be okay," he breathed in promise for what felt the hundredth time already.

"Don't leave."

"I won't. I'll stay right here until some clues come up," he said.

"No, don't leave at all. Please."

He swallowed the lump in his throat, uncomfortable with how desperate Sam sounded. He was going to have to eventually, he knew that and he knew Sam knew that. Still, maybe it would be best to placate him for a while.

"Nothing major seems to be happening right now," he replied softly. "Hell, you might be over this before Lilith even makes her next move."

It didn't seem to reassure Sam much, but Dean kept his word, pulling up a chair to sit and talk with his brother. They came up with any inane topic they could think up, memories from old holidays and birthdays, repairs the Impala might need coming up, and what they'd do once this was all over.

"I swear, enough saving the world for a bit. After this, I say we hit Amsterdam for real this time," Dean stated, hours later. He sat up straighter when he didn't get an answer and stood up to look inside and saw Sam curled up on the cot in the middle of the room, sleeping. "Yeah… Probably time to get some rest. Night Sammy."

He settled back down in the chair, crossing his arms over his chest to get some sleep himself. It was going to be a stressful time coming up, he could tell.

He was back on the lake not much later, the stress of the world gone for the moment. Shifting when he heard the beat of wings, he wanted to groan. Could he not even get five minutes to relax and process?

"We need to talk," Castiel informed him.

"Whatever is it, count me out for now. Sam needs me. If Lilith is planning something your little buddies can handle it."

"It's not safe here. Someplace more private," he continued as if Dean hadn't said a word to him.

"More private? We're inside my head."

"Exactly. Someone could be listening."

Okay, that got him a little worried. Cas was always kind of weird but this didn't seem something that could easily be blown off.

"Cas, what's wrong?" he asked but the angel only handed him a piece of paper with an address written on it.

"Meet me here," he instructed. "Go now."

Dean was jolted awake before he could even argue about it, the address burned into his mind. Worried, he looked to the door of the panic room before he sighed. He didn't want to go, but Cas had sounded worried, genuinely a little scared. Anything that could worry an angel wasn't going to be ignored. Besides, it wasn't that far. He could get there and talk, and hopefully be back before morning. Maybe Sammy wouldn't even notice he was gone.

End of Chapter 23

Spoiler warning. Sammy is going to notice.