It was a few nights later that Dean found himself in a motel room, nondescript and indistinguishable from the hundreds he's stayed in throughout his life. He should have realised he was dreaming a lot sooner than he did. The truth was he had, but deep down, just for a desperate moment, he wanted to believe it was real because he wanted to believe it really was his father sitting there at the table, cleaning a gun. Ironically, the one thing he wanted to be real, was the one thing that shattered the reality of it all.

But still, as he sat up in the bed, as he stood and moved closer to the image of his father, he wanted to believe.

"Dad?" his voice sounded vulnerable and desperate even to his own ears, but he couldn't help it.

"You're awake," John noted, not looking up. "Good. We need to get ready."

"Dad is it really you?" he knew it wasn't. He knew. But his eyes stung with unshed tears because he so desperately wanted it to be John. He so desperately wanted his father to be real, to be still alive and with him.

"Grab a piece," John said, indicating towards the table. "Time to choose your weapon son. The fight's about to start."

Dean stared at the table. It was littered with guns, hex bags, knives, and even angel blades, but amongst it all, what shone out the brightest, was a sword.

"It's a beauty, isn't it?" John remarked, following Dean's gaze. "A little damaged but deadly, nonetheless. But it's not quite ready. Not quite complete. Not yet." He picked it up, holding it reverently as he turned it over in his hands. "I'm destined for it as much as it is for me." He held it out towards Dean. "But you need to accept it. You need to accept your fate, son. Your responsibility."

"I'm not your son, Michael." Dean growled, no longer able to look at John.

Michael smiled paternally in response, unconcerned as he placed the sword back on the table.

"No, I suppose you're not. I suppose, in a way, seeing as you'll allow my entry to walk on Earth, I'm your son. Or, as you will carry me, perhaps that makes you a mother?"

Dean glared at him. "Stop looking like him. Stop it."

"I thought you'd find this comforting. Familiar. Your father raised you to fight, after all. Trained you, prepared you for war. And the battle is about to begin, Dean. I thought perhaps hearing it from John would help you realise that."

"Stop. I swear, if you don't stop this I'll–"

"You'll what? Use your free will to wake up? I doubt it." Michael eyed him a moment more before shrugging. "But fine."

Dean had barely blinked but Michael's face had changed. He looked younger, dark haired and closer to Dean's age, still somewhat familiar, but Dean couldn't quite place him.

"How's this? Better?"

Their location had changed as well, and they were now stood near a picnic bench in a lush scenic spot. Not one that Dean recognised but tranquil and serene none the less.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Michael commented, smiling at their surroundings as he took a seat.

"Where are we?"

"The Forrest of Dean. In England. Wasn't always called that of course, but it was a sanctuary from evil, once, given the high deposit of iron in the ground. But of course, you humans with your greed and ignorance, you corrupt everything you have. You mined the land to waste, then built shrines to save you from the demons you'd allowed to enter. In fact, there was a temple to a pagan hunting god, right about here oh, a few thousand years ago. Apt, don't you think?"

"Fascinating. You should consider doing a segment for the History Channel. Seriously, I hear they're always on the lookout for a hundred useless facts nobody gives a crap about."

Michael smiled. "Sit down Dean, we need to talk."

Dean wavered a moment before he reluctantly obliged, sitting across from Michael but keeping his guard up, and the angel watched him, amused.

"You know, it's sad, how little you trust me. We are on the same side, after all."

"Oh, I doubt that."

"Have you suddenly decided to side with Lucifer? No? Well then, why are we arguing? Why are you hesitating?"

"You're gonna kill millions, if not billions, of innocent people and you're wondering why I'm hesitating? The fact that you don't get that, the fact you even have to ask, maybe there's a clue in there somewhere dickbrain."

"Innocent people? Innocence is… rare."

"Well luckily, it's not your job to judge people. And as long as I've got anything to do with it, you won't get to slaughter them either."

"You're concerned about the safety of humans you've never met, when you should be more concerned about the ones you can save. The fate of humanity is inevitable, you can't save everyone. You can however, save your own family. And I've told you before, your family will be safe. Your brother, his children. I'll even reunite you with your mother and father."

"You'll bring them back?"

"If that's what you want. And it is what you want, isn't it?"

"All right, fine. Then do it. Do it right now. Wake me up and bring my dad back."

"Dean–"

"C'mon, you can do it any time right? You're an archangel, like you keep reminding me. Why not now? Huh? I mean, you said it yourself, my dad trained me, got me ready, he was one hell of a fighter, hell, probably the best damned hunter around. And we could use all the soldiers we can get right? Going up against the Devil. So, bring him back. Do it."

Michael shook his head, looking away and Dean scoffed.

"That's what I thought. All crap and no junk."

"You're wasting time. This is not the issue."

"Oh actually I think this is exactly the issue. See I don't trust you far as I can spit. I don't trust that you'd do it, keep Sam safe or bring my parents back. But I don't think that even matters, coz I don't think you can do it. I don't think you can do any of the things you promised me."

"Well how about this Dean, I promise you unimaginable pain and suffering until you accept your fate and say yes."

"I've been to Hell, think I can take it."

"Ah yes Hell. Where you couldn't take it, as I recall. Where you started it all. Where you broke, like the fragile, weak, insubstantial man that you are. And without me, that's all you'll ever be."

Dean grit his teeth, looking away to avoid Michael's derision, to avoid his own guilt reflected in Michael's dark eyes.

"What?" Michael mocked, feigning innocence. "Did I hit a nerve? Is the truth too unpalatable? Because the truth Dean, is that this is your mess. Yours."

"Yeah well last I checked it was you and your brother who couldn't sort out your crap."

"Oh we sorted it out. It was all dealt with. I won; Lucifer fell. Heaven and Earth were all in alignment and he was safely locked up. That is until you started this all up again. And now Lucifer is almost free. Because of what you started and because of what you have been unable to prevent."

"You could have helped with that. You could have stopped Lilith, but I don't see you down here…. Unless of course… you either don't want it to stop, or else you can't."

"Keep making excuses Dean. Keep blaming everyone else around you for all the problems which are your fault. It doesn't make a difference. Your inaction will lead to the needless death of millions, on top of the millions who will already die because of what you've already done. You're alone in this Dean. Helpless to prevent it, helpless to clean up your mess. Alone in your culpability. And unless you join with me, that's how you'll stay. Guilty and alone."

Dean looked away again, looking out across the verdant landscape. The surroundings were beautiful, he had to admit. The trees seemed centuries old, if not older, rising up to a canopy he couldn't see beyond, and yet, there was a defused light all around. And there was a coolness to the air, as if at any moment, dew drops would form on the moss and ancient ferns that quilted the forest floor. There was definitely a feeling of serenity and timelessness, and he wondered how ancient this forest really was, if it even existed at all.

It was pretty cool to have a forest named after him. Well okay, probably not after him exactly, but was still pretty cool. Maybe when he woke up, he'd look it up, see if it was real. Or he'd ask Sam, that would be easier, the geek was bound to know. That way he could act smug if it turned out to be true, coz he was pretty sure, there wasn't a Forest of Sam anywhere, unless you counted Sam Houston, which he wasn't going to, cos, well, totally different Sam.

Sam.

He could ask Sam because Sam was with him. The thought had come to him without him even trying, like a reflex. Like knowing how to breath. Innate, latent knowledge. The knowledge that Sam was there, that he was around, not miles away and uncontactable, but would be right there when he awoke, it was second nature. It filled him with a sense of relief and security and a smile escaped him at it.

"You know, you've been playing me just right, all this time." Dean said, returning his attention to Michael. "Telling me I'm alone, telling me I have no choice. Telling me it's all my fault."

"It is your fault. And without me, you are alone, for all that it matters. No one else can stop Lucifer."

"Maybe you're right. Maybe it is my fault. Maybe I can't do it without you. But the trouble is, I don't believe a word you say Michael. Coz you haven't done a damn thing to help. Ever. And you're wrong. I'm not alone. I never was. I was just stupid enough to fall for you lies."

"Whatever you may believe, this is your responsibility. And it's your fate."

"Yeah, I've been thinking about that too. See, you keep telling me it's my fate, it's my responsibility. You keep telling me it's been written since the dawn of time. Well if that's the case, then God knew about it. He knew it would come down to this, down to me, a human, making a choice to let you in. And if it was the only way to save it all, then I can't figure out why he would take such a big risk. Why he would leave it to chance, why he would leave it to free will. Unless of course he wanted me to say no. Unless he wanted me to find another way."

"You've never been a thinker Dean, and I can see why."

"And yet, with all that insight, you still can't see that I'm saying no."

"The Garden, Paradise, Earth, Heaven, all the souls in every plane, you're putting it all at risk, because, what? Because you're scared? Because you don't believe?"

"Because I choose."

"A garden does not fall on the whim of an earthworm!"

"And yet," Dean shrugged and smirked.

"You know this became tedious a long time ago. And time is running out. If you won't accept your fate, I'll just have to make you."

"You can try."

"Oh, I will. And here? It'll feel like an eternity. Or you know what, maybe I'll just give you a taste of what I'll do to your brother. Or to your niece, you're quite fond of her, aren't you? I think I'll start with her. Can you imagine your brother's face when I torture her? Though actually, you won't have to imagine."

"You stay the hell away from them."

"How do you think she'd handle the pain of having her bones slowly dissolve into her blood?" Michael asked, ignoring Dean. "For reference it feels like this."

His eyes flashed a brilliant, blue white, and as he clicked his fingers, Dean instantly felt the most excruciating agony he had ever known. Hell had been endless slicing and cutting and ripping apart, but this was something else entirely.

"What you're feeling," Michael continued dispassionately. "Is your bones, splintering away, turning to sand, getting into your bloodstream. Getting stuck in your vital organs and clogging them up."

Dean spluttered, unable to speak, thick, grainy sludge like blood flooding his mouth and filling his lungs as he tried and failed to breath.

"Your teeth of course are bone as well. As are your nails. As is your skull. As is your spine. Tell me," he tilted his head downward, trying to catch Dean's eye. "How do you think that niece of yours will handle it?"

Dean tried to be defiant, but the pain was close to unbearable, and he couldn't support himself, couldn't even hold his head up as he felt something crack in his neck.

"Bones need a certain amount of structural integrity to maintain and support your weight. Erode them even a little and they just can't handle it. Like any aspect of you humans in general."

Dean spluttered again, his rage and hatred towards Michael still trying to find an outlet, but a choking grunt was all he could muster.

"What was that?" Michael asked, craning his head forward. "Was that a yes? I hope for your niece's sake it was. That's the only word that this will stop this. The only one that can save her, that can save anyone."

"Ass-turd." Dean managed to splutter, and Michael smiled.

"Keep it up Dean. We have nothing but eternity here. It's not even been half a minute on Earth since your dream began. And I will continue till I get–"

Abruptly, Dean awoke. Or more accurately, was awoken. Sam was crouched by his side with Cas stood beside him, and both were staring at him with concern. Sam had a hand on Dean's forearm, gripping tightly as though he'd just physically pulled him from his nightmare, and his face was creased with a frown.

"You okay man? You were pretty out of it."

Dean keeled over, wrapping his arms over his chest as he took several deep breaths. The pain may have only been a dream, but it had felt horrifically real, and the residual phantom echoes left in its wake were no less easy to dispel than the real thing.

Sam's hand had moved to Dean's shoulder, and he glanced up, giving Cas a concerned, questioning look before craning his head back down to catch his brother's eye.

"Dean?"

Dean straightened, breathing through his teeth. "I'm fine." He gave Sam's arm a pat as he leaned back in the chair. "I'm good Sammy, just… Man! That felt real."

"What felt real? What happened?"

"Michael." Castiel supplied before Dean could respond, and though it hadn't been a question, Dean nodded.

Without any indication or forewarning, Cas reached down and placed a hand on Dean's chest. Dean rocked back even further in the chair, flinching but before he could say anything Cas had already removed his hand.

"Son of a…! What the hell Cas!?" Dean snapped rubbing at his chest.

"You will be hidden from Michael, from all angels, from now on."

"OK… well. Okay, thanks," he responded, still rubbing at his chest. "A little heads up though next time, okay?"

"There shouldn't need to be a next time," the angel intoned, completely serious. "I was very thorough."

Dean opened his mouth to respond, then shook his head. "When'd you get back anyway?"

"Just now. I thought something was… You seemed distressed."

Dean wasn't sure how he felt knowing how close an eye the angel was keeping on him, but he supposed he certainly wasn't in a position to complain about it right then. And if the warding on his ribs did what Cas had said, he assumed that close angelic observation would no longer be an issue. He glanced over towards Sam, then addressed the angel again.

"You'd better do Sam and the others too, including the kids. And Sam, look, before you argue–"

"I'm not gonna argue," Sam cut him off. "Do it."

Dean couldn't hide that he was taken aback. "You're… you're agreeing with me?"

"I don't think you'd put the kids through anything if you didn't think it was absolutely necessary. And like I said, I trust you, so…" he shrugged. "I trust you."

Dean stared at him a moment, before nodding.

"I'll add more sigils to the building," Cas said. "It should keep this whole place hidden. Then I'll do the rest."

"Won't they know what you've done?" Dean asked, unable to hide his concern for Cas' safety. He was sure Michael would consider Cas' actions as duplicitous.

"Perhaps," Cas conceded, pausing a moment to think about it. "But if queried, I'll tell them it's a precaution against Lucifer."

"Cas, you've been hanging around me too long," Dean grinned with approval. "When we met, you couldn't even lie about having never been laid."

"I… It… This is not a lie," Cas responded defensively. "It is an appropriate precaution should Lucifer be released."

"Sure." Dean smirked, but then his expression sobered. "Thanks Cas."

Cas nodded, placing a hand on Sam's chest and similarly warding him before he left.

"How long was I out?" Dean asked, wiping a hand over his face.

"Not long," Sam replied, rubbing a hand over his own chest as he moved back to sit on the edge of the bed. "I got worried when the smell of bacon didn't have you come running." He eyed Dean for a moment. "You wanna tell me what happened?"

"No," Dean closed his eyes. "It was just Michael, proving my point. That's he's a dick."

"He's pressuring you to say yes," Sam guessed.

"Yeah. Can't believe I was ever even considering it. 'Cept…."

"'Cept what?"

Dean looked downcast as he responded. "At least before he was playing nice, even if he was lying. Now…" he sighed. "I've probably put us all in danger."

"You did the right thing."

Dean gave Sam a look. "You don't even know what I did."

"Whatever it was, I know it was the right thing. I believe in you, remember."

"OK enough with the sap-fest. I've been tortured enough for one day."

He closed his eyes briefly and Sam assessed him again, taking in the bruises which hadn't yet fully faded and the cuts on his arms and fingers which still threatened to crack open.

"Speaking of torture, why don't you just let Cas fix you already man?"

"Sam," Dean groaned, letting his head flop back again. "I'm not dying okay. Whatever it was that was tore up in my leg, Cas fixed it and he fixed my face, not that it needed any fixing. Besides, I don't even know if he's back up to full strength. So the rest, well," he waved a hand dismissively, indicating the remaining slow healing injuries, and shrugged. "It's all just window dressing. Besides, we got bigger things to worry about than how pretty I look."

"You mean like Michael."

"And Jake. And Lilith. And the Seals. And Lucifer."

"Well, about all that," Sam began hesitantly. "I've been looking into it and, well, I think I might have found something."


tbc

Thank you for reading!

AN: The Forest of Dean does exist and it's beautiful. Remains of ancient temples and shrines have been found there, including one from Roman times for a god known as Nodens, who was likened to a hunting god (but also a healing deity). The ruins were studied by Tolkien who allegedly used the Latin inscriptions as the inspiration for Elvish and other Middle Earth writings. I knew Dean was always inspirational :-)

Oh and Sam Houston National Forest is in Texas and if the pictures are anything to go by, it's also very nice. Has anyone been?

Oh and when Michael changes his face, he's assumed the appearance of young John Winchester, but of course Dean doesn't know this having never been back in time in this AU - but you all knew that.