Then
They had avoided Detroit as if it had been riddled with plague.
Dean hadn't wanted to deliver Lucifer's vessel right to his door and Sam seemed happy to go along with that. At least – Dean mused – he had already changed the future. His future self had abandoned Sam to his fate – this Dean – this Dean was not letting his little brother go anywhere.
But then they had received the call; Bobby – Bobby alone and in distress, the fear in his voice tangible. They had lost too many friends – too many members of their family and they had no desire to lose another one. Dean had begged Bobby to tell him where he was and Bobby had given that one simple answer.
"I'm in Detroit."
They should have known it was a trap; demons swarming the place – an abandoned warehouse on the poor side of town – and no sign of Bobby. Lucifer was there though, wrapped in his rotting vessel and smiling, proud that he had managed to fool them, his eyes fixed on Sam like a dog checking out a particularly juicy bone…
Dean had realised – too late – that taking on an army of demons with one little pig sticker knife was not a wise idea. Sam had been restrained but not harmed. Dean on the other hand – Dean had been beaten almost to a pulp and he could barely stand when his brother approached him, Sam's eyes on the knife at Dean's throat.
Dean had heard what Lucifer said – felt the prick of blade against his skin – and he had begged, pleaded with his brother to stop, to run, to let him go. But Sammy – Sammy had smiled at Dean sadly, hands up in supplication as he opened his mouth and gave Lucifer what he wanted…
****
Castiel was silent in the passenger seat and Dean didn't even bother with the music. The streets of Detroit were deserted, the sky already a dingy grey and Dean knew – without question – that he had to stop Lucifer before he released the Croatoan virus.
He didn't even know where to start looking and he was finding it hard to concentrate, constantly thinking about Sam – about what Lucifer was doing to his brother – wondering if anything of Sam still existed, whether he would ever get to speak to his brother again or if he would be left with a cold corpse on his hands.
He considered – still considered – saying 'Yes' to Michael. At least then this could be all over. But then he remembers that heaven's battle would cause Earth's demise and he doesn't want that on his conscience alive or dead. He knows that Castiel is waiting for him to give in, that Cas thinks this is a really bad idea – but he can't and he won't stop. He wants Sam back – whatever is left of him – and he is going to get him – even if he dies in the process.
****
Lucifer stands in front of the mirror and brushes a big hand through shaggy hair. In the back of his mind he can feel Sam Winchester – feel his distress – his pain. He knows that Sam is still alive – that some essence of him still exists and he can feel his worry – feel his concern for his brother and it makes him wonder – makes him smile.
This vessel is – certainly – a huge improvement on the last one. This body – his true vessel – picked out for him by Azazeal – is fine – powerful – blood thrumming through his body, fire in his belly, anger vibrating in every pore. Lucifer looks at himself with darkened hazel eyes, looks at the slanting brows and high cheeks, the strong jaw and long hair, the muscled body and long legs. He smiles – oh how he approves of this body – approves so much that he is never coming out of it, never letting it go. Michael can do his worse and that brother of Sam's will cause him no problem. He laughs and strokes a hand across his chest.
"I am going to kill him Sam," he whispers and the soul of the youngest Winchester sobs in pain and distress, "and I am going to make you watch…"
****
The hotel clerk is flirting with him but he is too tired to respond. He pushes Sam's photograph forward and asks her if she has seen the guy. This is their twentieth hotel and the trail is getting colder and colder and Dean just wants it to be over, for the whole thing to end.
"He has the suite on the fifth floor," she smiles then showing white teeth, "I think he may be expecting you – told me if – if a guy in leather and another in a trench coat turned up – I was to send you up to him."
Dean's stomach clenched and he turned to Cas who looked as still and stoic as ever. There were no words between them and – inside his pocket – his hand tightened on the hilt of Ruby's knife.
"Thanks," he pushed $50 over to the clerk who took it and stared at it in surprise, "get yourself something nice," he mutters, wondering if he will see her on the way down.
****
The door is open and Dean goes inside; Castiel has gone but Dean knows his angel isn't far, knows that he might be planning something and worries what it is.
He sees the familiar shaggy hair, the straight back, the long legs and his mouth goes dry. Sam – not Sam – is wearing a white shirt and black jeans that cling to his thighs. His feet are bare and there is something in his body language that seriously disturbs Dean and makes him feel very uneasy.
"Dean," Sam – not Sam – fucking Lucifer – turns and smiles, dimples showing. His hair is brushed behind his ears and he looks like the fucking freak in the white suit – all smooth movements, slow grins, smug expression.
"I – get out of my brother – now!" It is a pathetic demand and his voice breaks on the last word. Lucifer smiles with his brother's mouth, reaches out with his brother's hand and touches Dean's shoulder, soft, gentle, his eyes bright.
"No Dean – I am never getting out of your brother – you – you will have to accept that – Sam is not getting his body back – however much you want it."
Dean clenches his teeth; he stands – legs apart – hands outstretched. He has the knife in his pocket and – although he knows it won't do anything – he has to try – even if it means…
Suddenly – Castiel appears before him – his trench coat flies out behind him like wings and he looks – for the entire world – like an avenging angel.
"It is time Dean," Castiel says and Dean knows – knows with a certainty that he cannot avoid destiny.
He hears a voice he does not recognise, feels a presence beside him, a gentle hand on his shoulder. He hears music, feels warm inside, outside, all around.
He takes the knife and holds it to Lucifer's throat and he opens his mouth and says the word he has avoided for so long.
In Detroit it is not only Sam that says 'Yes'.
TBC
