Chapter 15

The End: Part Two

Dean's mind swirled with images and memories of the past; long forgotten memories that were all but too painful to recall.

Malphas stood over him, an easy victory in his eyes.

"I know you, Dean. Ever the hero... Ever the family man..."

A vision of the Winchesters in Dean's youth, back when they were a whole family flashed before him.

"But beyond all those good intentions, you have a bit of a dark side. Don't you, Dean?"

The happy family turned to bloody carnage as Dean used a machete to hack of f a vampire's head; a glimmer of glee in his eye, almost enjoying it.

"Always hungry for the hunt... Hungry for the kill..."

More death and destruction as an onslaught of previous kills - demons, spirits, dangerous creatures, and humans alike – flood Dean's mind.

"Yes, you are quite the killer, Dean. I admire that in you. Such a shame you don't embrace it. Instead, you suppress it – hate it, even. But the one thing you can't face is how much alike you are to the things you hunt."

Dean looks up at himself in a mirror and sees his eyes black as night.

"And there's more to come. I promise you that. You think you hate yourself now, Dean? Oh, just you wait. Those that you've saved won't even amount to the body count you'll be responsible for."

Dean tortures and slaughters heaps of victims, one after another with eyes stone cold and empty.

"But the best part is that it won't all be you."

Now Sam appears in the vision, perched over a bloody corpse, the golden fires of Hell in his eyes. Dean knows this isn't his brother, but a monster within.

"Yes, your baby brother. Little Sammy. That yellow-eyed imp's special psychic freak."

Dean clenches a fist to his throbbing skull, hopelessly trying to stop the pain and the false memories the demon forces upon his senses.

"Even your daddy knew he'd be a monster. Asked you to kill him, didn't he?"

John leans down toward the hospital bed where Dean lay and whispers the horrible prophecy into Dean's reluctant ear.

"But you know, as well as I, that you don't have the sack. He'll be Azazel's little bitch, and you..."

Sam stands at the side of the Yellow-Eyed Demon with an army at their backs and the fiery destruction they create together surrounding them. Dean, alone in the shadows, watches helplessly.

"Well, Dean, you'll die alone."

Dean gasps frantically, holding his stomach as his insides begin to spill out. Beads of blood dribble down his chin. His eyes dart around in the dark for a soul to help him, but all in vain.

"Alone. Scared. And in so much pain. Knowing that you failed. As a brother... As a son..."

"Stop it-" Dean spat.

"At that point, the demons won't even want what's left of you to rip apart in Hell." He laughed sinisterly. "But they'll do it anyway."

Dean lay out on the racks in Hell as demons carved into his body again and again.

At this point Dean was a weeping mess on the floor of the chapel. A succession of images of bloodshed and death swarmed his mind, both caused by him and other demons. This was too much for Dean. He was breaking.

Sam stepped out from the hallway, having heard the end of Malphas' mind game.

"That's not true", he declared, and strode toward his brother without worry.

"Dean, listen to me. You are not a killer. Yeah, you kill things, but only evil things. Look at how many people are alive because of you. Look at how much good you've done. Sure, we have shitty lives, and we've lost a lot of people, but you still have me."

Dean heard his brother's voice cut through the muddled images like light through a fog, and the pain began to subside.

Threatened by this, Malphas focused all of his energy on strengthening the visions and the cries of the dying to sink Dean back under his spell.

But Sam continued.

"Now, we don't know what's going to happen to me, or what Yellow-Eyes has planned for me, but whatever does happen, we'll face it together. I know you won't stop until you've found a way to save me, because you've always protected me."

Sam knelt down and put his forehead to Dean's. He thought hard of happy memories, of the two brothers laughing and joking, embracing, sharing brotherly moments. Slowly, the images bled into Dean's mind and he, too, saw the happy memories they shared.

"You've always been there. And I know, no matter what, that you'll do the right thing. By me, by dad... You're the best big brother I could ask for. And if this is the apocalypse, then I know we'll be standing side by side, shotguns in hand... And we'll go down swingin'."

The more Sam spoke, the pain faded and the grotesque visions dispersed, replaced by warm memories of family and love.

Malphas stepped back in horror.

"How- How are you doing this? How can you be doing this?!"

A skeletal hand attached itself around the demon's throat and gripped tightly.

*CHOKE*

Malphas looked around to see the Rider, fully aflame.

"Love always wins, asshole," it growled.

Then the Rider stoked the fire around his skull with a roar, engulfing both himself and Malphas in a ball of flames.

Malphas screamed, relinquishing his final hold on Dean, and bursting into a puff of smoke that fell like rain to the floor.

Dean collapsed into his brother's arms and took deep breaths of free air.

"I will never have a migraine as bad as that one," he uttered between breaths.

"Welcome to my world," Sam laughed.

The Ghost Rider went out like a candle and left Johnny to the floor in a similar state to Dean.

"So, next time we hang out, can we invite fewer revenge-seeking demons? Thanks," he said.