The Room is finallycomplete. Damn it if that doesn't scare a few people.
Dean had known he was going to lose the argument before he even got started, but he also knew that he had to at least try. Try to get his bookworm brother and their resident, featherheaded angel to see reason.
But, as expected, the two flat out rejected the notion- refused to even consider his proposal that they weld the door shut behind him. Even though it was one of the most reasonable ideas he'd had all week.
The two Couldn't think with this ma'lak room being the only permanent solution to the whole Michael going to destroy the earth if he got loose problem. Not that he'd expected them to.
At the end of it, Sam and Cas got him to agree to a reinforced door, triple locked and barred. The deadbolts and keys to which would be charmed so that they would only work in the uncoerced hands of one or the other of them. No one else. That way, guaranteed, not even God himself was gonna be busting Michael out of his new digs.
With that reassurance, Dean just couldn't bring himself to deny his brother and his best friend the last shreds of hope they still had. The pie in the sky hopes that one day, and one day not too long from then, they were going to stumble across some sort of magical, well hidden, non-lethal answer to this archangel possession that didn't include Dean being locked in a metal box for the rest of eternity.
Still, didn't mean he was gonna go easy on them.
"Alright, so, one more time, when is it okay to open the blast proof no-no door?" Dean asked as the flames of a holy oil bonfire scorched the air behind him, feeling like he was running a couple kindergarteners through the alphabet. For the eightieth time.
"Never," mumbled a begrudging angel, looking like someone had whizzed in his lemonade.
"And under which circumstances is it okay to let Michael out of his timeout room?"
"None, Dean, we get it," Sam insisted with a hint of his patented kicked puppy look. "It's just, when we find another way- a better, more permanent fix-"
"If, Sammy," Dean cut in, tempering his insistence with as much sympathy as he could spare his poor, poor brother. "I hate to be the one bursting your bubble, but we've tried finding another way and you need to know- both of you need to get it through your thick skulls that this might be it. Full stop." When Cas moved to say something, Dean motioned for silence, gently as he could. "I know this stinks- downright blows, but I need to trust that you two can handle this. Otherwise... I'm figuring out how to weld that piece of hell shut from the inside." Then, at the no nonsense jabbing of a finger in the direction of the bright, holy burn of the Room, the others practically jumped out of their skins.
"You can't do that, Dean-"
"You mustn't suggest such heinous-"
And suddenly Dean had two unhappy hunters right up close and the rest of the rebuttals were lost in a surprisingly desperate jumble. Which he felt free to ignore until the two barely grownups remembered what 'personal space' was and backed off. Barely. Looking almost embarrassed with their little outburst.
"Don't even kid about stuff like that," Sam said in a way that came across half pleading.
"He wasn't kidding, Sam, but don't worry, I've taken care of the problem. For now," the angel said as his eyes lost the blue glow neither Dean nor his giant brother had noticed. Till then.
"Dude, did you seriously just disappear all our welding gear?" Dean asked, after a quick glance down the hall. Where they'd had to move all the sensitive and potentially explosive materials while the consecration took effect.
"...We were done with it?" Cas justified, in a very unsure manner.
"Glad you care, buddy," Dean said with a perplexed, good natured shake of his head. "I'd do the same for you. Either of you," he said with a glance at Sam. Before his face went serious again. "Look, I don't wanna break up the love fest, but, uh, tell the truth? Michael's gettin' a little antsy up here," Dean admitted, hoping the others didn't catch the involuntary shiver when he raised his hand to indicate his head.
"I know, I probably should've mentioned it earlier, but that self righteous dick with wings can sense something out here and whatever he's sensing: he doesn't like it."
Sam and Cas exchanged a stricken look but didn't say anything. Which was better than Dean had been expecting. Honestly.
"Ever since we finished the warding the bastard's been throwing a fit, like, full-on drama queen, and I'm givin' him hell right on back- I'm holding that door tight as I can, but, no matter how much I hate sayin' it... I don't know how much longer I can keep it up."
"You couldn't sleep," Cas said, surprising Dean with how statement like it came out.
At Dean's reluctant nod, the hunter noticed the all too familiar look of loss that spread over Sam's face, darkening it and throwing every age line into sharper relief, making his brother look like he'd just gotten news that he would very soon be burying a loved one.
He was gonna kick Michael's ass for that.
"Is there something that you would like to do as the consecration and quenching run their course?" Cas asked, with a look of great weight settled over his ruffled features.
He was kicking Michael's ass for that too.
"Cook; eat; shoot the shit... together?" Dean suggested, striving to keep his voice steady. As if he was making plans for just any old meal. As if these weren't going to be their last hours spent as a real family.
As if.
"In any particular order?" Cas asked in a distinctly approving tone.
"I was thinking, simultaneously," Dean said, with a tilt of his head. "I'll do the steak if you do the potatoes?"
"Potatoes I can handle," the angel in human's clothing said with a nod.
"I'll handle the salad," Sam threw out there, sounding like he might've been wanting to say just that for quite some time.
"Well, that's settled," Dean said, giving his eyebrows an exaggerated raise.
At that, the group shared in a muted smile and together turned to make for the kitchen. Dean walking between the others and clapping them on the back as they set off to fulfill the last wish of a man who they knew there was a very real chance they would never come face to face with again.
XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxXxxxxxx
"Love you too, Mom. Yeah. Yeah, I'll tell him. Bye."
Dean set his phone down on his side table, right next to the rest of his worldly possessions, and with nothing but the clothes on his back and a head utterly ringing with the echoes of someone else's vengeful rage, he turned to leave the room he'd come to think of as his. Probably for the last time.
Hand on the outside doorknob, Dean decided that privacy wasn't something that an uninhabited room needed, so without pulling the door shut, he gave the decades old brass a pat and headed off. Not glancing back when he thought he heard the hinges give a creak. Even though he oiled them regularly.
"'Bye' to you too," he said as he took the turn out of his hall, one corner of his mouth quirking without his permission.
"Hey," Dean was greeted as he met up with the two who'd thought up, designed, and built the impossible in order to keep him from a watery, earlygrave.
"Hey," he said right on back. Impressed by Sam's casual demeanor. Until he saw the telltale tightness around the guy's jaw. And eyes. And body.
"Hello, Dean. I'm glad that you're mother is doing well," Cas said with a pleased look.
"Hey, what I tell ya 'bout listening in on phone conversations?" Dean asked, crossing his arms for emphasis.
"...That it's rude," the angel said in an almost self-deprecating way.
"Bingo," Dean said with a wry tilt of his head. "Reminds me: Mom says she loves you and that you better call. Frequently," he informed, flicking his eyes back to his stiff as hell brother.
"Uh, thanks. I will," said brother said with a bobbing nod.
"Yeah, you better," Dean warned, making sure it came out more joking than anything else. Then, after a short group chuckle, he motioned to the chamber which housed his new, potentially permanent, residence.
"Time to get this show on the road."
With that, the three began the walk through the chamber's door and over to the stark and fully warded face of a room sized ma'lak box. A walk that Dean would never willingly admit made him feel like a death row inmate, being escorted to his unfortunate, state ordered demise.
At least he wasn't wearing orange.
Coming to a stop mere feet from the Enochian emblazoned door, Dean found himself collecting his concentration with a deep breath. The realization that he hadn't been able to hear any of their footsteps over the angelic tantrum in his head, even in that cavernous, echoey space, throwing him for a loop.
"What?" He asked, probably a little louder than necessary, when he turned and saw Cas's mouth moving.
With an understanding look, the angel started again. "You know that I was joking the other day, right, Dean? I don't actually think you look pregnant."
"Thanks, Cas. Though I gotta admit, it kinda feels like I've been living for two recently." The responding chuckles made Dean smile. Just a little. Before he made the mistake of looking the others directly in their sad, sad faces.
"I'm gonna miss you guys and I can't thank you enough for- for building this ugly piece of hell for me. Nicest thing anyone's ever done."
"Don't worry about it. If it works, I get to say 'I told you so'," Sam insisted.
"Can't wait to hear it," Dean insisted back. "But, uh, seriously, I can't thank you two enough for..." He let himself trail off with a halfhearted gesture behind himself. At the hulking presence of the earth's only known salvation.
"You can save the thanking for when we find a better alternative," Sam insisted, stepping forward and swallowing his brother up in a sasquatch sized hug. One it took Dean a good moment to wrap his head around. And which he returned as soon as his arms remembered how to move.
Then, after a protracted several seconds, the younger brother sniffled as he pulled away to make room for Cas to do the same. Which the angel did with equal gusto.
"There is nothing that will stop us from liberating you from this Room," the shortest among them practically whispered from where his head was nestled firmly atop Dean's shoulder. "That is a promise you can hold us to."
"I know, Cas. And I love you for it. You and that walking stilt I call a brother."
"Hey!"
Dean gave said ever so slightly misty-eyed brother a smirk as the angel let him go and took a reluctant half step back. "Okay, well, hasta la vista, babies."
"See you soon, Dean," Sam said in a way that made it sound like a promise. Right before moving to pull and hold the door open for his brother.
"Yes, have faith, Dean. We'll be together again soon." The resolute set to the angel's jaw made Dean's heart clench and the seasoned hunter found he had to force his face not to betray just how bad all this was suddenly starting to scare him. Had to clench his jaw as he gave the world and the people he'd known, protected, and counted on for so long a parting wave and took the few steps backwards and into his new home.
At least no one could see how bad it hit him when the door shut tight and an all encompassing gloom was all he could see.
In fact, Dean was glad that only he could hear the building, mounting, pounding inside his head- the guttural railings against the only thing holding Michael at bay. Proof of the archangel's guttural reaction to their new surroundings. To the wardings Dean knew the stowaway in his head could feel, no matter how deep inside his mind the bastard was tucked away.
As the sound of multiple locks' deadbolts clunking into place bounced around the relatively small space, Dean stepped away from the door and focused on his breathing.
As he heard the bar being lowered into place across the only way in or out of his new living space, a feeling he hadn't known in what felt like forever hit him square in the brain: Freedom.
He was finally, finally free to relax.
"Okay, Mikey, you win," Dean said, planting his feet as he screwed his eyes shut and just... let go.
He stood there, knees loose and arms slack by his sides, in the middle of the ma'lak Room he'd helped build, as the maelstrom in his mind reached a fever pitch. He allowed himself the utter bliss of no longer pushing back with everything he had- every spare fiber of his tattered being, against that stupid stockroom door. Allowed himself to simply watch as that single, solitary, wholly insufficient barrier splintered and burst off its hinges, at long last releasing the biggest threat known to their planet.
Even as he felt the rush and surge of an angelic being coming out to shove him away from his own body's controls, Dean couldn't help but be thankful that he'd held out long enough. That Michael was never going to hurt another living soul again. That he wasn't at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean in a metal coffin he'd built out of pure desperation and the misguided thought that he had to do this alone.
Still, didn't mean Dean was happy about being ripped from his body and shoved to a dark corner of his once private psyche, but knowing that this was as close to victory as the human race got against this particular brand of pure evil did take the edge off.
As Dean felt the changing of the guard take official effect with a sickening sense of finality, he thought once more of the life- of the people he was leaving behind. And of how very grateful he was for all their help.
If only Cas could be right in his faith that they'd be together again soon.
If only their lives worked like that.
If only Dean'd never said 'yes' to Michael.
If only.