Dean stumbled into the darkened room, nearly falling off balance from the amount of whisky he had consumed over the past several hours. He was doing everything within his power to stop the drinking and keep his temper under control. But after listening to Zachariah and his pathetic speech about destiny, he needed something strong to take the edge off.
Vessel of heaven, my ass.
Apparently, he wasn't supposed to save the world after all. He was only meant to let Michael take a ride in his meat suit so that the archangel could pound Lucifer into the ground once and for all, bringing on the apocalypse. He'd be damned if he let anything, including the one and only Michael, take the reigns over his own body.
He was too damn handsome to let someone else enjoy the ride.
Dean lifted the bottle clutched in his fist to his lips, taking a long drink. Chuck's 'guest' bedroom consisted of a lumpy pull out sofa surrounded by a floor littered with loose papers on a stained carpet. The prophet's cleanliness and hygiene left little to be desired.
The only good thing to come from their 'meeting' had been Castiel's sudden appearance as he ganked the sons-of-bitches that had accompanied Zachariah. Castiel had no idea how he had been put back together after Zachariah literally blew him to smithereens for helping the Winchesters and going against heaven's orders. His only guess had been God himself, and Dean was beginning to suspect he was right.
Maybe the Almighty was listening after all.
Dean sat down on the makeshift bed as gently as his intoxicated self would allow so he wouldn't awaken the sleeping form beside him. It was past midnight. Chuck had said Skylar had been awake until recently, worried about him. If she opened her eyes to discover him drunk, or as drunk as he was capable of getting considering the amount of alcohol he had abused over the years, he was liable to catch hell for not coming straight back after his meeting with heaven's flying butt monkey.
Of course, he wouldn't mind riling up his wife. It would be better than this soft spoken, introverted side of her he had been given ever since her near-death experience where hell had opened up and nearly swallowed her whole.
The small light filtering in from the window cast a gentle glow against Skylar's face. She was turned on her side towards him, a deep troubled frown creasing her features. Dean carefully sat his bottle on the floor next to him and scooted down until his face rested inches from her own. He took the time to study her and really look at his wife. A few months of wedded bliss was more than he had bargained for.
Her birthday was in three weeks. He would have to buy her a gift, something meaningful and not stupid.
It wasn't only the realization that Michael wanted to take a ride in his body that was bothering him so much. No, not even close.
"Your destiny was written long ago, boys. Brother against brother. Michael against Lucifer. They will meet on the battlefield and there will be a war. You will be their vessels and you will say 'yes.'
Zachariah's words would haunt him for a very long time to come. But he and Sam had gotten out of crazier situations than this before. Well, maybe not crazier, but they had still been insane, non-the-less.
And then the angel had the audacity to mention his sweet wife. Apparently there was something they continued to want to hide from them.
Shocker.
Something told Dean that if they were able to figure it out, then maybe…just maybe they could put an end to this whole ordeal. Rescue humanity and save his marriage in one fell swoop.
It sounded like a damn good plan to him.
He would have to call Bobby in the morning. Bobby was great at figuring crazy shit out. Even the end of the world was proving to be too much for his old friend who was more like a father to him than his own dad had been growing up. And now Bobby was in a wheel chair because he had somehow overcome a demon possession long enough to save Dean's life.
Shaking the thought from his mind, Dean leaned forward to place a light kiss against Skylar's lips. He pulled back to graze his thumb against her furrowed brow, optimistic that she would somehow relax in her sleep. It wasn't long after that that Dean began to fall into his own trouble sleep, hoping that Bobby could turn up with the answer.
The answer that may have been right in front of them all along.
Skylar picked at her burnt bacon, trying to listen to Dean's phone call from the other room. He was leaning forward with a hand against his forehead, sunglasses covering his eyes.
He was hungover.
It was a look that she had become accustomed to over the years. Whenever Dean put on sunglasses while inside, he had clearly been drinking too much the night before. She was furious. How dare he get plastered while she paced Chuck's cluttered home, worried for his safety, and the entire time he was getting drunk. If it hadn't been for the mark that burnt out when he had once died, then she would have gone insane with worry.
Dean stood abruptly, shoving his phone into his back pocket.
"I told Bobby what we know. He's going to look into it. I said that we'll show up on his doorstep in two days."
"Two days?" Sam said, sitting his orange juice down on the table. "He lives in North Dakota. We'll have to drive straight through to make that."
"Right," Dean said, picking up a glass of tomato juice and chugging it down, wincing. "You and I will take shifts. And since my head is pounding like a bitch, you drive first."
Without another word, he headed outside, leaving the door wide open, expecting them to follow immediately.
Sam offered her an apologetic shrug. "It was a rough night, Sky. Don't hold it against him."
"I'm not," she offered a similar shrug in response. "Life's been less than stellar lately. I don't think it would kill him to pick up his cell and give me a call, however."
"I should have called too. It's just…after Zachariah, and everything that happened…everything that he said, hell I had a couple drinks myself."
"Hopefully Bobby can help," Skylar said, more for herself than anyone else.
Sam nodded in agreement. "Bobby's great at pointing us in the right direction. He's saved our asses more times that I can count. We better get moving." He turned towards Chuck, a forced smile on his lips. "Thanks for the information and hospitality, Chuck."
"Anytime, Sam. Just be careful and I hope you find what you're looking for."
"Me too. For all of us."