May 14th - May 17th, 2009

"Come on!" Dean grabbed Sam's arm, pulling him toward the door.

The three of us ran for the door, but it slammed shut. We shook the handles, but they weren't budging. The light in the room grew brighter, and then a high-pitched sound started echoing through the room. We covered our ears and dropped to our knees in pain.

Then suddenly, we were sitting next to each other on an airplane. We looked around us frantically.

"What the hell?" Dean asked, looking out of his window.

Sam shook his head. "I don't know."

The pilot's voice came over the intercom, "Folks, quick word from the flight deck. We're just passing over Ilchester, then Ellicott City, on our initial descent into Baltimore..."

"Ilchester? Weren't we just there?" Dean asked.

"So if you'd like to stretch your legs, now would be a good time to..." the pilot said, and then there was a large white column of light that shot up into the sky right next to us. "Holy crap!" Then the intercom cut out, and the plane started going down.

People were being knocked all over the plane, you could hear nothing but screams, and then our oxygen masks dropped down. We grabbed them and quickly put them on.

The light outside grew larger and enveloped the plane, and the high pitch sound started up again. Then suddenly, the light disappeared, the sound stopped, and the plane evened out.


The pilot ended up landing early due to the emergency situation. So, Dean rented us a car, and we hit the road to Chuck's house.

We were silent, but the radio was playing, "Governor O'Malley urged calm, saying it's very unlikely an abandoned convent would be a target for terrorists, either foreign or homegrown—"

"Change the station," Dean said.

Sam clicked the button. "Hurricane Kinley, unexpectedly slamming into the Galveston area—" He hit it again. "Announced a successful test of the North Korean nuclear—" He hit it again. "A series of tremors—" He hit it again. "Swine flu—" He clicked it off. After a moment, he sighed and looked at Dean. "Look—"

Dean shook his head. "Don't say anything." He paused for a second. "It's okay. We just got to keep our heads down and hash this out, all right?"

Sam was quiet for a minute. "Yeah, okay."

"All right, well, first things first... how did we end up on Soul Plane?" Dean asked.

Sam shrugged. "Angels, maybe? I mean, ya know, beaming us out of harm's way?"

Dean nodded. "Well, whatever. It's the least of our worries. We need to find Cass."


At Chuck's house, we jumped out of the car and ran in because it had been completely destroyed. We walked through, trying to find Chuck, but wanted to stay quiet in case whatever did this to his house was still there.

Then Sam stumbled back and grabbed his head. "Jeez! Ow!"

Chuck popped out around the corner of the wall, holding a toilet plunger in his hands, ready to swing again until he realized who was standing there. "Sam."

Sam nodded. "Yeah!"

"Hey, Chuck," Dean said.

"So... you're okay?" Chuck asked as he lowered the plunger.

"Well, my head hurts," Sam said.

Chuck shook his head. "No, I mean— I mean, my— my last vision. You went, like, full-on Vader. Your body temperature was 150. Your heart rate was 200. Your eyes were black."

Dean and I looked at each other, and then he looked at Sam.

"Your eyes went black?" Dean asked.

Sam looked back at Dean, shamefully. "I didn't know."

"Where's Cass?" I asked.

Chuck sighed. "He's dead... or gone. The archangel smote the crap out of him. I'm sorry."

Dean furrowed his brow. "You're sure? I mean, maybe he just vanished into the light or something."

Chuck shook his head. "Oh, no. He, like, exploded. Like a water balloon of chunky soup."

I frowned at the thought.

Sam took a closer look at Chuck and pointed out something bloody over his left ear. "You got uh..."

Chuck felt around above his right ear. "Uh... right here?"

Sam shook his head and pointed to Chuck's left ear again. "Uh, the—"

Chuck felt around his hair on his left side and grabbed something. "Oh. Oh, god." He groaned and pulled something out of his hair. "Is that a molar? It is." It was clearly a tooth in his hand. "Did I have a molar in my hair?" he asked, freaked out, and then shook his head. "This has been a really stressful day."

Dean shook his head and groaned. "Cass, you stupid bastard."

"Stupid?" Sam asked. "He was trying to help us."

Dean nodded. "Yeah, exactly."

"So, what now?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head. "I don't know."

"Oh, crap," Chuck said, looking around the room nervously.

"What?" Sam asked.

"I can feel them," Chuck said.

Dean cut his hand and slid Chuck's pocket door open. He quickly drew an angel banishing sigil on it and then slid it shut.

"Thought we'd find you here," a man said from behind us.

We turned and saw three men standing there in suits, which I assumed were angels.

"Playtime's over, Dean. Time to come with us," one of the angels, who was clearly the leader, said.

Dean pointed at him. "You just keep your distance, asshat."

"Who is that?" I whispered to Dean.

"Aw, Dean. You didn't tell your baby sister about me?" He looked down at me. "I'm Zachariah." He stepped closer to me and smiled, but Dean put his arm in front of me. Zachariah looked up at him. "You're upset."

Dean nodded. "Yeah. A little. You sons of bitches jump-started judgment day!"

"Maybe we let it happen. We didn't start anything. Right, Sammy?" Zachariah winked at Sam and then looked back at Dean. "You had a chance to stop your brother, and you couldn't. So let's not quibble over who started what. Let's just say it was all our faults and move on. 'Cause like it or not, it's Apocalypse Now." He smiled. "And we're back on the same team again."

"Is that so?" Dean asked.

"You want to kill the Devil." Zachariah shrugged. "We want you to kill the Devil. It's... synergy."

"And I'm just supposed to trust you?" Dean asked and then scoffed. "Cram it with walnuts, ugly."

"This isn't a game, son." Zachariah scowled. "Lucifer is powerful in ways that defy description. We need to strike now, hard and fast... before he finds his vessel."

"His vessel? Lucifer needs a meat suit?" Sam asked.

Zachariah shrugged. "He is an angel. Them's the rules. And when he touches down, we're talking Four Horsemen, red oceans, fiery skies, the greatest hits. You can stop him, Dean, but you need our help."

"You listen to me, you two-faced douche," Dean growled, "After what you did, I don't want jack squat from you!"

"You listen to me, boy!" Zachariah roared. "You think you can rebel against us? As Lucifer did?" He looked down at Dean's hand. "You're bleeding."

Dean nodded. "Oh, yeah... a little insurance policy in case you dicks showed up." He slid the door open and slapped his bloody hand on the sigil.

Zachariah reached his hand out. "No!" Then he and the other angels disappeared.

"Learned that from my friend Cass, you son of a bitch," Dean said.

Chuck sighed and shook his head. "This sucks ass."


I was sitting on the bed next to Dean, watching him load a gun when Sam walked into the room.

Dean looked up. "Hey."

"Hey." Sam nodded and pulled something out of his shirt and tossed a small package to Dean and one to me. "Here. Hex bags. No way the angels will find us with those. Demons, either, for that matter."

"Where'd you get these?" Dean asked.

"I made them," Sam said.

Dean furrowed his brow. "How?"

Sam hesitated nervously. "I— I learned it from Ruby."

Dean put his gun down and walked over to Sam. "Speaking of. How you doing? Are you jonesing for another hit of bitch blood or what?"

"I—" Sam shook his head. "It's weird. Uh, tell you the truth, I'm fine. No shakes, no fever. It's like whoever... put me on that plane cleaned me right up."

Dean nodded. "Supernatural methadone."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I guess." He paused for a second and sighed. "Dean—"

"Sam." Dean shook his head and turned away. "It's okay. You don't have to say anything."

Sam nodded. "Well, that's good. Because what can I even say? 'I'm sorry'? 'I screwed up'? Doesn't really do it justice, ya know? Look, there's nothing I can do or say that will ever make this right—"

"So, why do you keep bringing it up?!" Dean shouted.

Sam sighed.

Dean turned back to him. "Look, all I'm saying is, why do we have to put this under a microscope? We made a mess. We clean it up. That's it."

Sam nodded.

"All right, so, say this is just any other hunt. Ya know? What do we do first?" Dean asked.

"We'd, uh, figure out where the thing is," Sam said.

Dean nodded. "All right. So we just got to find... the Devil."


Dean and I sat on the couch together and watched the news while Sam flipped through Dad's journal.

"How would you then explain an earthquake, a hurricane, and multiple tornadoes, all at the same time, all around the globe?" one of the news anchors asked.

The other anchor nodded. "Two words. Carbon emissions."

Dean scoffed. "Yeah, right, wavy gravy." He turned the TV off.

Knock! Knock!

Dean pulled his gun out, and Sam answered the door.

"You okay, lady?" Sam asked.

A woman was breathing heavily with excitement in her eyes. "Sam... is it really you?"

Sam glanced back at us, and then the woman stepped forward and put her hand on his chest.

"And you're so firm." She smiled brightly.

"Uh, do I know you?" Sam asked.

The woman pulled back. "No. But I know you. You're Sam Winchester. And you're—" She peered around Sam to look at Dean. "Not what I pictured." Then she looked at me. "And you're... here too," she said, sounding oddly jealous or disappointed. Then she looked back at Sam with a smile. "I'm Becky." She pushed past him into our room. "I read all about you guys. And I've even written a few—" She glanced down to Sam's waist and giggled. She took a deep breath and shook her head with a smile. "Anyway, Mr. Edlund told me where you were."

"Chuck?" Dean asked.

Sam walked over and closed the door.

Becky nodded. "He's got a message, but he's being watched. Angels. Nice change-up to the mythology, by the way. The demon stuff was getting kind of old."

"Right. Just, um... what's the message?" Sam asked.

"He had a vision. 'The Michael sword is on Earth. The angels lost it,'" Becky recited.

Dean furrowed his brow. "The Michael sword?"

"Becky, does he know where it is?" Sam asked.

"'In a castle, on a hill made of forty-two dogs,'" Becky said.

Dean shook his head. "Forty-two dogs?"

"Are... you sure you got that right?" Sam asked.

Becky shrugged. "It doesn't make sense, but that's what he said." She stepped closer to Sam. "I memorized every word..." She touched his chest. "For you."

Dean and I looked at each other and cringed.

I leaned in and whispered, "Weirdo."

Becky snapped me a look and gazed back up at Sam with loving eyes.

Sam cleared his throat. "Um, Becky, can uh— can you... quit touching me?"

Becky bit her lip and shook her head. "No."


Dean called Bobby for help, and about an hour later, there was a knock on our door.

"Hey, Bobby," Dean said once he let him in.

Bobby hugged Dean and slapped him on the back. "Good to see you kids all in one piece." He walked over to me and hugged me and then turned to Sam and hugged him.

"You weren't followed, were you?" Dean asked as he shut the door.

"You mean by angels, demons, or Sam's new superfan?" Bobby asked.

Sam laughed and nodded. "You heard."

Bobby smirked. "I heard Romeo." He turned to Dean. "So... sword of Michael, huh?"

Dean nodded. "You think we're talking about the actual sword from the actual archangel?"

"You better friggin' hope so," Bobby said and opened a book to a painting of a glowing man with giant wings surrounded by angels. "That's Michael. Toughest son of a bitch they got."

"You kidding me?" Dean scoffed. "Tough? That guy looks like Cate Blanchett."

Bobby shrugged. "Well, I wouldn't want to meet him in a dark alley, believe me. He commands the heavenly host. During the last big dust-up upstairs, he's the one who booted Lucifer's ass to the basement. Did it with that sword." He pointed to a sword in Michael's hand. "So, if we can find it—"

"We can kick the Devil's ass all over again. All right. So, where do we start?" Sam asked.

"Divvy up and start reading..." Bobby shrugged. "Try and make sense of Chuck's nonsense."

Sam walked over to the pile of books Bobby brought and paused, not reaching for them.

"Kid? You all right?" Bobby asked.

Sam shook his head and turned to Bobby. "No, actually." He sighed. "Bobby, this is all my fault. I'm sorry."

Dean sighed. "Sam—"

"Lilith did not break the final seal. Lilith was the final seal," Sam said.

"Sam, stop it," Dean snapped.

Sam nodded. "I killed her, and I set Lucifer free."

"You what?" Bobby growled.

I had seen Bobby angry before, but it was almost scary how pissed he was.

Sam shook his head. "You guys warned me about Ruby, the demon blood, but I didn't listen. I brought this on."

Bobby stepped closer to Sam. "You're damn right, you didn't listen. You were reckless and selfish and arrogant."

"I'm sorry," Sam said.

"Oh, yeah? You're sorry you started Armageddon?!" Bobby yelled. "This kind of thing don't get forgiven, boy. If, by some miracle, we pull this off... I want you to lose my number. You understand me?"

Sam nodded with tears in his eyes and then cleared his throat. "There's an old church nearby. Maybe I'll go read some of the lore books there."

Bobby scowled. "Yeah. You do that."

Sam left the room sadly, and then Bobby turned to Dean and me, both of us were silent. I was honestly feeling bad for Sam. I knew he messed up... like really messed up, but he was still my brother. I hated seeing him so upset.


Bobby, Dean, and I sat around the table, reading the books Bobby had brought with him.

Bobby sighed and shook his head. "I never would have guessed that your daddy was right."

"About what?" Dean asked.

"About your brother," Bobby said, "What John said... you save Sam or kill him. Maybe—"

Dean furrowed his brow. "Maybe what?"

Bobby shrugged. "Maybe we shouldn't have tried so hard to save him."

I gave Dean a look, now feeling furious that Bobby would say something like that about Sam.

"Bobby..." Dean warned him.

Bobby shook his head. "He ended the world. And we weren't strong enough to stop him proper. That's on us. I'm just saying, your dad was right."

A sudden realization hit Dean, and he stood up. "Dad." He walked over to his bag and started rummaging through it. He pulled out a baggy full of cards. "It's got to be in here somewhere."

"What?" I asked.

"Here." Dean pulled one of the cards out and read it. "I don't believe it."

"What the hell is it?" Bobby asked, both of us getting up and walking over to Dean.

"It's a card for Dad's lockup in Upstate New York. Read it," Dean said and handed it to Bobby.

Bobby took the card and read it, "'Castle Storage. 42 Rover Hill.'"

Dean smiled. "Castle on a hill of forty-two dogs." He took the card back.

"So you think your dad had the Michael sword all this time?" Bobby asked.

Dean shook his head. "I don't know. I'm not sure what else Chuck could have meant."

"Yeah. Okay. It's good enough for me." Bobby nodded.

Then he shoved me to the ground and then tackled Dean through the half wall between the kitchenette and the beds. He yanked him up and slammed him down again. He turned and smiled at me with black eyes. He picked Dean up and slammed him up against the wall by his throat.

"No!" I yelled and stood up.

Suddenly, two women and a man burst through the door. The man grabbed my hair from behind and put a knife to my throat.

The female demon that was in the lead approached Dean. "I always knew you were a big, dumb, slow, dim pain in the ass, Dean. But I never dreamed you were so VIP." She picked up the demon blade from the table and twirled it. "I mean, you're gonna ice the Devil? You? If I'd have known that, I'd have ripped your pretty, pretty face off ages ago."

Dean scowled. "Ruby."

She shook her head. "Try again. Go back further."

"Meg?" I asked.

She looked back and smiled at me. "Hi." She turned back to Dean. "These are the days of miracle and wonder, Dean. Our father's among us. You know we're all dreaming again for the first time since we were human? It's Heaven on Earth." She shrugged. "Or Hell. We really owe your brother a fruit basket."

Dean glared at her. "My god, you like the sound of your own voice."

"But you, on the other hand, you're the only bump in the road. So every demon... every single one... is just dying for a piece of you," Meg said.

Dean smirked. "Get in line."

"Oh, I'm in the front of the line, baby. Let's ride," Meg said and grabbed Dean's face and forcefully kissed him.

Dean looked disgusted when she finally pulled away. "What is that? Peanut butter?"

"Ya know, your surrogate daddy's still awake screaming in there. And I want him to know how it feels slicing the life out of you," Meg said and handed the knife to Bobby, who raised it to Dean's throat.

"No!" I screamed, but the demon tugged on my hair and pulled me back.

Meg looked back at me. "Don't worry, you'll get your turn." She smiled and turned back to Dean.

"Bobby!" Dean yelled, trying to hold the knife away.

Bobby looked at Meg.

"Now!" she yelled, almost with hesitation.

Bobby raised the knife to stab Dean.

"Bobby! No!" Dean yelled fearfully.

Bobby hesitated and then stabbed himself in the stomach, his body flashed gold, and then he dropped to the ground.

Dean rushed toward Meg, but the other female demon slammed him into the wall. The demon holding me threw me against the wall and smiled when I turned around. He charged toward me, swinging his knife, but I ducked and rolled away from him. I looked up, and he had stabbed the knife into the wall, right about where my head would've been.

He turned and ran at me, ready to stab me again, but just as I was about to stand up and make a run for it, Sam caught his arm.

"No!" He punched the demon, making him fall to the floor.

Sam turned to see Bobby lying on the ground bloody and Dean getting the crap beat out of him.

"Heya, Sammy. You miss me? 'Cause I sure missed you." Meg smiled at him.

"Meg?" Sam asked in shock.

Meg grinned. He swung at her but missed.

Meg kicked him in the crotch and smiled. "It's not so easy without those super-special demon powers, huh, Sammy?"

My attention turned back to the male demon when he grabbed me by the hair and flung me over the bed by the window. I smacked my back against the corner of the nightstand as I laid on the ground for a moment and spotted Sam's duffel bag under the bed. I grabbed it and dug through one of the side pockets until I found what I was looking for.

I pulled the flask of holy water out and poured it into my mouth, just as the demon grabbed my leg and pulled me out from under the bed. He picked me up and held me in the air by the throat. His face went from murderous to confusion when I smirked. I spit the holy water all over his face, and then he dropped me to clutch his now smoking face and screamed. I landed on the bed and rolled off it toward Dean, who at this point had taken care of the demon he had been fighting with.

As the demon charged at us angrily, Dean stabbed him in the stomach, he sparked orange and then dropped to the ground. Dean turned to Meg, who Sam now had a hold of and went to stab her, but she smoked out just in time.


We burst through the emergency room doors. Sam and Dean had carried Bobby in over their shoulders.

"Need some help here!" Dean yelled.

A nurse quickly ran up to us. "What happened?"

"He was stabbed," Sam said urgently.

"Can we get a gurney?!" the nurse yelled.

Two more nurses ran over with a gurney and helped Bobby on.

"Hang in there, Bobby. You're gonna be okay," Dean said as he helped the nurses.

After he was placed on the gurney, the nurses ran off with him. We went to follow, but the nurse who called for the gurney turned to us. "Just wait here."

"We can't just leave him," Sam said.

"Just don't move. I've got questions," the nurse said and then ran off after Bobby.

"We got to go," Dean said and grabbed our arms.

Sam shook his head. "No way, Dean."

I shook my head. "We can't."

"The demons heard where the sword is. We got to get to it before they do if we're not too late already. Come on!" Dean yelled and then ran out of the emergency room doors.


We arrived at Dad's lockup and jumped out of the Impala. Sam and Dean grabbed loaded guns, and then Dean walked up and unlocked the door. When we walked into the room, we found dead demons sprawled all over the floor.

"I see you told the demons where the sword is," a familiar voice said from deeper within the storage unit.

We turned to see Zachariah and two angels standing near the back wall.

"Oh, thank god. The angels are here," Dean said sarcastically.

"And to think... they could have grabbed it any time they wanted." Zachariah waved his hand and closed the door. "It was right in front of them."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

"We may have planted that particular piece of prophecy inside Chuck's skull, but it happened to be true. We did lose the Michael sword. We truly couldn't find it. Until now. You've just hand-delivered it to us." Zachariah smiled.

Dean shook his head. "We don't have anything."

Zachariah laughed. "It's you, chucklehead. You're the Michael sword."

Dean just stared at him.

"What? You thought you could actually kill Lucifer? You simpering wad of insecurity and self-loathing?" Zachariah shook his head. "No. You're just a human, Dean. And not much of one."

"What do you mean, I'm the sword?" Dean asked.

"You're Michael's weapon. Or, rather, his... receptacle," Zachariah said.

"I'm a vessel?" Dean asked.

"You're the vessel. Michael's vessel," Zachariah said.

"How? Why—" Dean shook his head. "Why me?"

"Because you're chosen!" Zachariah smiled. "It's a great honor, Dean."

Dean nodded. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, life as an angel condom. That's real fun. I think I'll pass, thanks."

Zachariah shook his head. "Joking. Always joking. Well... no more jokes." He raised his hand like a gun and pointed it at Dean, but then shifted to Sam. "Bang."

There was a loud crunching sound, and then Sam crumpled to the ground, grabbing his leg. "God!"

"You son of a bitch!" Dean shouted.

"Keep mouthing off..." Zachariah pointed at me. "I'll break her legs too." He looked at Dean. "I am completely and utterly through screwing around. The war has begun. We don't have our general. That's bad. Now, Michael is going to take his vessel and lead the final charge against the adversary. You understand me?"

"How many humans die in the crossfire, huh? A million? Five? Ten?" Dean asked.

Zachariah shrugged. "Probably more. If Lucifer goes unchecked, you know how many die? All of them. He'll roast the planet alive."

"There's a reason you're telling me this instead of just nabbing me. You need my consent. Michael needs my say-so to ride around in my skin," Dean said.

Zachariah sighed. "Unfortunately, yes."

Dean shook his head. "Well, there's got to be another way."

"There is no other way. There must be a battle. Michael must defeat the serpent. It is written," Zachariah said.

Dean shrugged. "Yeah, maybe. But, on the other hand... eat me. The answer's no."

"Okay. How about this? Your friend Bobby... we know he's gravely injured. Say yes, and we'll heal him. Say no, he'll never walk again," Zachariah said.

Dean hesitated. "No."

"Then how about we heal you from... stage-four stomach cancer?" Zachariah asked.

Dean doubled over and coughed blood into his hands. "No."

"Then let's get really creative. Uh, let's see how... Maddison does without her lungs," Zachariah said and smiled at me.

I dropped to the ground gasping for air. Dean looked back at me with fear in his eyes. I shook my head at him. I didn't want him to say yes because of me. It was the strangest, most painful feeling that had ever coursed through my body. I felt like I could feel my body screaming for oxygen, but no matter what I did, I just couldn't take a breath. I was becoming light-headed quickly, and I could hear the blood rushing faster as my head pounded.

"Are we having fun yet? You're going to say yes, Dean," Zachariah said.

Dean's jaw clenched as he looked at me struggling, he turned back to Zachariah. "Just kill us."

"Kill you? Oh, no. I'm just getting started." Zachariah smiled.

A bright light flashed, and Zachariah turned to see that one of his angels had collapsed with a bloody hole in his throat. My vision started to blur. It felt like my whole body was in a panic, desperately searching for oxygen. I could see figures fighting in front of us.

Zachariah gasped. "How are you—"

"Alive?" the familiar gruff voice of Cass asked. "That's a good question. How did these three end up on that airplane? Another good question. 'Cause the angels didn't do it. I think we both know the answer, don't we?"

"No. That's not possible," Zachariah said.

"It scares you. Well, it should. Now, put them back together and go. I won't ask twice," Cass demanded.

Zachariah vanished, and then I took a deep breath, finally able to breathe again. Sam and Dean stood up, and Dean reached his hand out to help me up.

"You three need to be more careful," Cass said.

Dean nodded. "Yeah, I'm starting to get that. Your frat brothers are bigger dicks than I thought."

Cass shook his head. "I don't mean the angels. Lucifer is circling his vessel. And once he takes it, those hex bags won't be enough to protect you."

He put his hands out toward us, and then a sharp pain erupted through my chest. When the pain subsided, it felt like my chest was bruised, like I had been kicked in the ribs. All three of us gasped in pain.

"What the hell was that?" Dean asked.

"An Enochian sigil. It'll hide you from every angel in creation, including Lucifer," Cass said.

"What, did you just brand us with it?" Dean asked.

"No. I carved it into your ribs," Cass said.

The three of us took that in for a second.

"Hey, Cass, were you really dead?" Sam asked.

Cass nodded. "Yes."

"Then, how are you back?" Dean asked.

Cass didn't answer and then disappeared.


We left to visit Bobby, and a doctor came in to tell him the bad news that we already knew was coming.

"'Unlikely to walk again'?! Why you snot-nosed son of a bitch! Wait 'til I get out of this bed!" Bobby shouted.

The doctor quickly burst through the door and ran out of the room.

"I'll use my game leg and kick your friggin' ass! Yeah, you better run!" Bobby yelled and then looked over at us. "You believe that yahoo?"

Dean shrugged. "Screw him. You'll be fine."

"So, let me ask the million-dollar question. What do we do now?" Sam asked.

Bobby sighed. "Well... we save as many as we can for as long as we can, I guess." He shook his head. "It's bad. Whoever wins, Heaven or Hell, we're boned."

"What if we win?" Dean asked.

We all stared at him. He sounded a little too confident.

Dean shrugged. "I'm serious. I mean, screw the angels and the demons and their crap apocalypse. Hell, they want to fight a war, they can find their own planet. This one's ours, and I say they get the hell off it. We take 'em all on. We kill the Devil. Hell, we even kill Michael if we have to. But we do it our own damn selves."

"And how are we supposed to do all this, genius?" Bobby asked.

Dean shook his head. "I got no idea. But what I do have is a GED and a give-'em-hell attitude, and I'll figure it out."

Bobby laughed and shook his head. "You are nine kinds of crazy, boy."

"It's been said," Dean said and patted Bobby on the shoulder. "Listen, you stay on the mend. We'll see you in a bit." Then he headed for the door, and Sam and I followed after.

"Sam?" Bobby asked, causing us all to stop and turn. "I was awake. I know what I said back there. I just want you to know that— that was the demon talking. I ain't cutting you out, boy. Not ever."

Sam was silent for a while and then nodded and sighed. "Thanks, Bobby."

Bobby nodded. "You're welcome. I deserve a damn medal for this, but... you're welcome."

Then the three of us left.


We walked out of the hospital toward the Impala.

"You know, I was thinking, Dean... maybe we could go after the colt," Sam said.

Dean shrugged. "Why? What difference would that make?"

"Well, we could use it on Lucifer." Sam shook his head. "I mean, you just said back there—"

Dean shrugged. "I just said a bunch of crap for Bobby's benefit." He stopped walking and looked back at Sam. "I mean, I'll fight. I'll fight 'til the last man but let's at least be honest. I mean, we don't stand a snowball's chance, and you know that. I mean, hell, you of all people know that." Then he continued walking.

Sam sighed. "Dean..."

Dean stopped and looked back.

"Is there something you want to say to me?" Sam asked.

There was a long pause, and then Dean shrugged. "I tried, Sammy. I mean, I really tried. But I just can't keep pretending that everything's all right. Because it's not. And it's never going to be. You chose a demon over your own family..."

Sam rolled his eyes and looked down.

Dean put his arms out. "And look what happened."

Sam shook his head. "I would give anything... anything... to take it all back."

Dean nodded. "I know you would. And I know how sorry you are. I do. But man... we depended on you. And you let us down in ways that I can't even—" He paused, struggling for words. "I'm just— I'm having a hard time forgiving and forgetting here. Ya know?"

"What can I do?" Sam asked.

"Honestly?" Dean shook his head. "Nothing."

Sam nodded and looked down.

Dean shook his head. "I just don't— I don't think that we can ever be what we were. Ya know?"

I looked down, feeling like everything was crumbling apart.

"I just don't think I can trust you," Dean said, he put his hand on my shoulder, and we started walking back to the Impala. He paused at the trunk for a moment to look back at Sam and then opened my door for me.