Thank you so much Jenjoremy for being the world's best beta. You're do more than just fix my booboos, you make the story so much more with your little additions. Gredelina1 and SandraEngstrom2, you ladies make it possible for me to write. Thank you so much x

I'm posting early this week as I just this afternoon finished writing the epilogue for the fifth and final story of the series. Suffice to say, I am a bit of an emotional mess right now. I thought I'd share the feeling with this chapter. Yes, I am that cruel.

Chapter Twenty-Two

"Seriously, Dean, we might not have all made it back in time if you and Sam hadn't come," Sonny said. "Thank you so much."

"Anytime," Dean said with a smile.

"I mean it. You saved lives." Sonny shook his head. "Though I suppose that's nothing new to you and Sam, is it?"

"Some days it feels like it is. Not for long though." Not now that they had the rings.

Sonny looked over the yard at the kids where they were wandering around, kicking at the wreckage left by the storm. They all looked shell-shocked still, and Dean guessed there were a few sleepless nights in store for them in the future.

The youngest kid, Finn, only six years old was standing by the porch, his eyes fixed on Sam where he and Mitch walked out by the ruined barn. Dean wasn't sure if it was because Sam had carried him to safety or if it was because he'd seen Sam walk into a hurricane and survive, but the kid was transfixed.

When Sam had walked out of the basement the kids had panicked, convinced Sam was walking out to his death. Dean, Sonny and Mitch had tried to reassure them, but calm didn't come until the storm ended and Sam walked back inside, looking windswept but unharmed. Dean thought the story of the hurricane and the man who stopped it was going to become part of the legends shared by the kids who stayed at Sonny's. Mitch especially seemed awestruck by Sam, though his tone had been firm and demanding when he'd approached Sam after they'd all made it outside and commanded, "Talk!"

Against what Dean expected, Sam had nodded and led him away. Though he knew that Sam wouldn't tell Mitch the truth of what had happened, he hoped whatever story he did come up with was good, as Mitch was a smart kid and wouldn't take an obvious lie well.

"He sure has changed," Sonny said, his gaze on Sam.

Dean nodded and then breathed a sigh of relief as Castiel stepped out from around the house. Sam looked up at the same time. He clapped Mitch on the shoulder, said something that made Mitch nod, and then came across the yard to them.

"Is everyone okay?" Sam asked Castiel urgently.

"They are all safe," Castiel replied. "I was able to retrieve Bobby from his panic room and we all sheltered in The Roadhouse." He fixed his eyes on Sam. "How were things for you?"

Sam pulled the ring from his pocket. "Not bad."

"Good," Castiel said with an understated nod, though his eyes were bright.

"We should get out of here," Sam said.

Dean nodded and he and Sonny shared a quick embrace before he stepped back. Sonny held out a hand to Sam and they shook. "Thank you so much, Sam," he said. "Really."

"Glad you're all okay," Sam said. He turned to Castiel. "Ready?"

In response there was the familiar feeling of being displaced in movement and then they were standing in the bar of The Roadhouse. Ash was sitting at the bar, a bottle of PBR in his hand and his expression grim.

"Where's everyone else?" Sam asked, his voice concerned.

"In the kitchen. They're cooking up some food to take into the city for people."

"They'll have to hold off on that," Sam said. "Come on, Ash. We need to talk."

Ash slid from his stool and followed Sam and Dean through to the back.

The smells of chili and macaroni cheese filled the room. Ellen was at the stove, stirring a huge pot and Jo was grating a block of cheese while Bobby chopped peppers.

Ellen turned as they came in and her face lit with relief. Sam spared her a small smile and then said, "We need to talk."

Castiel stood by the counter, and the rest of them were seated around the table. They each had a drink in front of them, beer, whiskey, and in Sam's case, coffee. That was Dean's first clue something was really wrong, something more than the emergency they were already dealing with. It was like he wanted to keep a clear head.

All eyes were fixed on Sam as he set down a cigar box on the table and opened it. The rings they'd taken from War, Famine and Pestilence were there. Sam tipped them out and then pulled a fourth from his pocket. As he set it down on the table, the rings snapped together as if pulled by magnets, Death's at the center and the others attached to the sides. Sam pulled them apart with effort and held up Death's.

"He handed it over," he said. "We've got everything we need to do this."

Ellen breathed a shaky breath. "Finally."

"One problem," Bobby said. "From what Ellen told me about Gabriel's appearance, these rings form a 'highway' to the cage, but we've got no way of getting him in it."

"He's right," Jo said. "Like that dick Gabriel said, Lucifer isn't going to step up to the edge and let us just push him in."

Sam shook his head, his expression solemn. "With me here, we have everything we need."

"Sam, you're a great hunter," Bobby said, "maybe the best, but even you can't beat Lucifer in a fight."

Sam grimaced. "I hope you're wrong, because that's exactly what I intend to do."

Dean frowned and tried to make sense of what he was saying. His brain felt slow, worn down by everything he'd been through and the pangs of grief he still felt for his father. An idea occurred to him and his indrawn breath stuck in his throat. Sam couldn't seriously be thinking that, could he? He looked into Sam's eyes, determined, sad, and shook his head jerkily. "No!"

Sam's eyes were sympathetic as he said, "Yes, Dean."

"What?" Ellen asked, anger and worry in her voice. "What are you talking about?"

"Lucifer," Sam said. "There's only one way we're getting him into the cage, and that's if someone takes him there. He won't be tricked in. He won't go himself—he'd sooner die—so I have to literally drag him there."

Dean saw the moment Ellen understood what he was saying. Her eyes widened and she shook her head. "No. Not happening. Never in life."

"What?" Ash asked lethargically, apparently well on his way to drunk already. "What do you mean?"

"I am going to say yes," Sam said. "I will let Lucifer in and then I will overpower him and take him to Hell again."

Jo frowned. "But that means you'll…"

Sam reached across the table and laid his hand over hers. "Yes. It means I'll be going there with him."

Jo yanked her hand back. "No!"

"You can't seriously think we'll let you do that," Dean said, anger surging through him.

He expected anger in return, for his words of 'letting' to spur Sam's mulish nature, but he didn't get it. Sam merely shrugged and said, "I'm not asking permission. There's only one thing that'll stop me doing this, and that's if anyone can see it going wrong. I've proven that I don't always make the right decisions, so I am asking you all to be my judgment this time. I can't see how this can make things any worse for the world than they already are, but I might be wrong."

"How about the fact you might not be able to overpower him?" Bobby asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Sam nodded slowly. "I've thought of that. I don't think it'll be a problem though. I did it before with Azazel, and I cast out Uriel."

"A demon and a seraph," Castiel said. "That's not the same as overpowering Lucifer. He's an archangel."

Sam smiled slightly. "Are you saying that because you really don't believe I can do it or because you just don't want me to do it?"

"Both," Bobby said, turning to Castiel. "Right?"

Castiel nodded and cast his eyes downward. "Yes. Both."

Sam drew a breath and said. "I get that. If it was any one of you, I'd be making the same arguments, but it doesn't change anything. If I can't overpower him, Lucifer will fight Michael. Gabriel said that'll happen anyway. At least this way we have a chance of winning. You need a better reason."

Ellen glared at him. "How about we don't want you to?"

Sam shook his head sadly. "That's not a good enough reason, Ellen. I'm sorry."

"But you promised me," she said, her voice strained. "You said you'd stay."

"I said I'd try," Sam corrected. "And I said if I couldn't, I'd say goodbye. This is me saying—"

"No!" she snapped. "Don't say it! Don't you dare!"

Sam fell silent.

"Is this about Dad?" Dean asked.

"In a way," Sam said and Dean sucked in a breath. "I know he'd expect no less from me. If he was here, he'd be willing to do it in a heartbeat. I feel the same."

"Punishment!" Ellen accused. "You're punishing yourself for your mistakes."

"Would you blame me if I was?" Sam asked, sounding genuinely curious.

"Yes," Ellen said firmly, the lie evident in her eyes.

"It's about the world," Sam said. "If any one of you can give me an alternative, a way to trap him without me being the one to do it, I'll take it. Can you?"

There was silence in the room. Dean looked down at the tabletop and searched his brain for anything, any other way to save the world without sacrificing his brother. He could think of nothing.

Nausea rolled in his stomach and he swallowed the saliva that flooded his mouth. There was no other way. They'd been searching for something from the minute Lucifer was freed, and this was the closest they'd come to a plan.

Sam was going to do it.

He lurched to his feet and raced for the back door. Yanking it open he rushed out into the cool air and emptied his stomach on the grass.

He felt a hand on his back, a warm, comforting touch, and his stomach heaved again. A glass of water was pushed into his hand and Sam said, "It's okay, Dean. It's going to be okay."

Sam felt sick, too, and it wasn't the sound of Dean's retching that did it. It was fear. He was afraid. He was doing his best to hide it from them all, but he wasn't sure he was successful. They all knew him too well.

Dean straightened and rinsed his mouth and then wiped it with the back of his hand.

"Feel better?" Sam asked.

Dean glared balefully at him and Sam muttered an apology. He knew this was hard on Dean, harder than it was on Sam himself perhaps because Dean, along with Ellen and Jo, Castiel and the others, would be the ones left behind. He knew how that felt and what that did to him. He wouldn't wish it on anyone, and if it wasn't the world in the balance, he would never subject them to it. He had no choice though. It was him or the world and no man's life was worth more than that.

Dean rinsed his mouth again and held the glass against his chest with a shaking hand. "You can't do this," he said hoarsely.

Sam wasn't sure if he meant Sam physically couldn't or if he couldn't do it to him, but his answer was the same for both statements. "I have to."

Dean's hand whipped out and the glass smashed against the wall. "You can't!" he shouted.

"Give me another way," Sam almost begged.

Dean shook his head. "You can't leave me again. This isn't like the other times. If you do this, there's no coming back. You'll be gone forever."

"Don't you think it's time?" Sam asked with a small smile. "How many times has my number been up now just for someone to pull me back?"

"It's not funny, Sam."

"I know," Sam said apologetically.

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Dean he didn't want to do it. That he wouldn't, but he couldn't add to Dean's grief when it was over. Dean needed to think he was going into this because it was what he wanted to do. The truth was Sam was going into it by necessity. He was so afraid.

"I'll be okay."

"No," Dean said angrily. "You'll be in Hell. You don't know what it's like there, you can't understand. You'll be with Satan in a cage for eternity. How is that even remotely okay?"

Sam swallowed. He had some vague idea of Hell because he had felt Heaven's blades at Zachariah's hand. It would be worse with Lucifer, he was sure, and that was why he was so scared.

"After," he said, "when I'm gone, you have to do something for me…"

Dean's head snapped up. "You're not doing it."

Sam ignored him. "You have to leave it alone. Don't try to get me back. It'll be too dangerous to screw with the locks on the door. You understand?"

"You're not doing it!" Dean said again.

"I am," Sam said. "With your blessing or without, it's going to happen. No one has given me a good enough reason not to."

"I can't give my blessing for something every part of me screams against!" Dean said passionately.

"And when I tell you this is what I need?" Sam asked. "When I tell you this will save Sonny and Mitch, little Russ, Ellen and Jo, Bobby and Ash, Castiel, Missouri, every other kid you saved in your life, everyone we saved. Everyone you know and care about will be free to live their lives again. That will be my legacy, Dean. Can you really deny me that?"

Tears welled in Dean's eyes. "You're my brother," he whispered.

Sam smiled and grabbed the back of his neck, pulling his face down to rest on his shoulder. "That's not going to change, Dean. Just because I'm not here to tell you, you will always be my brother."

Dean began to cry and Sam knew the battle was over. Maybe Dean would never give his blessing, maybe he would never forgive Sam for doing this, but he wouldn't stop him, and that was what mattered.

Just over a week ago, Dean had his father and brother in his life. Within a few hours, they would both be gone. Once again, he'd be without his blood family. He didn't know how he was going to live like that again.

Ellen was inconsolable. She would not accept what was going to happen. Dean felt the same desire to refuse reality, but he knew now, he'd seen in Sam's eyes, how scared he was, and he couldn't make it any harder on him than it already was. He wished he could make Ellen see it, too, but that would make it worse later. She needed to think Sam was at peace with his choice and unafraid.

They were all in the bar, everyone but Ellen who had retreated to her bedroom to hide. Ash and Sam had already exchanged farewells, Ash wet around the eyes and Sam sympathetic. Now it was Jo's turn. She sobbed against Sam's chest and he smoothed her hair gently before pulling back and whispering something in her ear. She nodded tearfully and said, "Me, too. Always."

Sam held out a hand to Bobby to shake, and the older hunter cleared his throat gruffly as he shook it. "Thank you, Sam," he said in a constricted voice.

Sam smiled but didn't speak. Leaving Jo to Ash's comforting embrace, he walked back into the hall and Dean heard his gentle tap on Ellen's door.

"How're you doing?" Bobby asked Dean, laying a hand on his shoulder.

Dean glared at him. "How'd you think?"

"Sorry," Bobby said. "That was a stupid question."

"It's okay," Dean said automatically, when in truth everything was far from okay. He'd never felt so desperate, not even when the hounds came for him.

Sam came back into the room alone. Ellen's door was still firmly closed. Dean knew she was going to regret not taking this chance to say goodbye to Sam for the rest of her life, but there was nothing he could do; he'd already tried to talk to her and he'd received no response.

"I guess I should get on with it," Sam said, his hand gripping the door frame so tightly his knuckles were white.

"We'll come with you," Jo said.

He shook his head quickly. "No. I don't want you seeing this. You stay in here." He smiled. "Have a drink for me."

"I'm coming," Dean said.

Sam looked at him, seemed to see his resolve, and nodded. He looked to the corner where Castiel stood and said, "Ready, Cas?"

Castiel nodded. Sam gave the room one last look of longing and walked out of the door, Castiel and Dean following. Dean's footsteps felt heavy, each one a trial to take. His fear and preemptive grief seemed to weigh him down. Sam walked confidently though, quickly crossing the parking lot and entering the tornado decimated cornfield. He seemed calm now, as if the fear had passed and he was ready.

When they were in the middle of the field, Sam came to a stop and turned to Castiel. "Okay. Go for it."

Castiel laid a hand on his chest and closed his eyes. Sam flinched back as Castiel used his grace to wipe the sigils from Sam's ribs. When Castiel stepped back, Sam rubbed at his sternum.

At that moment, the bar door crashed open and Ellen raced out. "Stop!" she shouted.

Sam winced. "Ellen…"

She ran into him, her arms wrapping around him. She didn't speak at first; she just held him and cried. Then she pulled back and cupped his face in her hands, her eyes roving over his face as if memorizing him. When she released him, Sam bent his head and kissed her cheek. "Thank you."

"Please change your mind," she pleaded one last time.

Sam smiled sadly. "I can't. This is the world, Ellen."

She nodded, resigned, and said, "I love you so much. I always have."

"I always will," Sam replied. He looked from face to face and said, "You can go if you like. It might be safer."

They shook their heads and Sam nodded as if he'd expected the response.

"Okay," he said, clearing his throat and raising his voice as he called, "Lucifer, you son of a bitch! Get here now!"

Dean expected something more impressive that Lucifer's subtle arrival. One moment they were alone, looking around the field, and the next Lucifer was there.

"Well," Lucifer said, "This is unexpected. To what do I owe the invitation?"

Sam glanced at Dean and then fixed his eyes on Lucifer. "I want to say yes."

"And why would you do that?" Lucifer asked curiously.

"We want it over," Sam said. "I want it over. We figure you'll win the fight. Let my family live and I'll say…"

Lucifer held up a hand and Sam ceased, his chest heaving. "Not bad," Lucifer said. "I'd maybe believe you if I didn't know you have those rings burning a hole in your pocket." He tutted. "You think you can beat me, Sam? I am an archangel. You're a human, albeit an impressive one."

"If I can't beat you, you've got nothing to worry about," Sam said.

Lucifer tapped his chin with one finger "You make a good point. I can't deny I'm tempted. A battle royale inside your head. It'll be nice to have even a little challenge. I get so bored…"

Dean held his breath, torn between praying Lucifer would do it and that he wouldn't. It was the fate of the world or the fate of Sam. He didn't know which to back.

"Okay," Lucifer said, nodding. "You're on. If you're sure, we'll have ourselves a little fun. "

Sam closed his eyes, took a breath, and said. "Yes. I say yes."

Lucifer spread his arms at his sides and bright blue-white light started to stream from him as a high-pitched noise cut through the air. Dean grabbed Ellen's arm and turned her away, his hand coming up to cover his eyes. When the noise ceased and the light disappeared, he turned back to Sam.

"Sammy…"

His face was twisted as if in pain. A hand came up to his forehead and fingertips pressed into his temples.

"Sam, honey, are you okay?" Ellen asked.

Sam's hand dropped to his side and he nodded. "Yeah, Ellen, I'm just fine. I'm not Sam, but I sure am fine."

Dean's heart sank. "Lucifer."

Sam's lips twisted into a mirthless smile and he nodded. "Oh yeah. Sammy's long gone."

There was a loud whipping sound, like sails in the wind, and Lucifer disappeared.

Dean bowed over and groaned.

"It's over," Ellen said desolately.

"No," Dean said, straightening and forcing confidence into his tone. "It's not over yet."

"Well, Sammy, this is fun," Lucifer said, his voice gleeful.

"Fuck you," Sam snarled within his own mind.

He had fought and clawed at Lucifer from the moment the archangel had taken him over, but Lucifer's strength was immense.

Sam had been so sure he could to it, but he had failed. Casting Uriel out was like brushing away lint in comparison; overpowering Azazel was blowing a feather. Lucifer was a titanium wall to breach. There was just no way.

He knew the only reason he could communicate at all was because Lucifer was letting him. He could have stuffed Sam in an imagined vision or canceled out his awareness the way the other angels did with their vessels, but Lucifer wanted him to watch, he wanted him to see. Sam would be forced to witness the battle of the archangel brothers and he would surely feel every wound.

He hadn't been lying when he said he thought Lucifer would win, but that was worse than the alternative. If Michael won, Sam would be killed and it would be over. If Lucifer won, Sam would spend eternity trapped inside as the world was destroyed. He would see the end of humanity, the destruction of the demons, and perhaps the angels, too. He would surely be forced to watch the people he loved be murdered.

"I won't kill them." Lucifer said. "I'll make them live out their lives, watching the world around them be destroyed. So much more satisfying. A fitting punishment for their opposition."

"I will end you," Sam vowed.

"I can feel you trying, scrabbling away in there. It almost tickles."

Sam cursed.

"Now, we have a little time," Lucifer said. "Michael isn't due for a while yet. Shall we pop over to Lawrence, pay that sweet old lady Missouri a visit?"

Sam felt sickened. "No!"

"You sure? She's the one who set your father and therefore you on this path after all. If it wasn't for her, you'd have had a nice normal life with your grief-stricken father. You could have gone to college like Dean. There's no hiding it from me, Sam. I am inside you. I know what you know. I know what you feel. I know how much you wanted it."

"I don't regret my life," Sam said.

"Liar." Lucifer sighed. "Well, if you're not in the mood to let loose a little, I suggest we use this time for quiet reflection." He paused. "Or not. Let's have some fun…"

They were alone in the cemetery. Lucifer stood a little away from the wrought iron gates, looking around slowly at the crumbling and mossy graves.

"For all your talk of ancestry and familial love, you humans don't care much for the dead," Lucifer remarked.

Sam didn't respond. He would have pointed out that these graves were at least a hundred years old, old enough for the descendants to have no knowledge of names or to have moved from the area, but he had no desire to engage. It made him think of his mother though. Though there had been no body, there was a grave arranged by Mary's uncle, so there was a place to go to remember. Sam had never been there. He only knew about it because John once told him in a drunken rambling. Just because he didn't go there, tend her plot, didn't mean he didn't care, though. He didn't need to go to a granite marker to think about her. He could and did do that anytime and anywhere. He thought about her now, wondering what she would think about what he was doing.

"Not talking, Sam?" Lucifer asked. "Don't tell me you're still upset about the demons."

Sam wasn't. It felt callous and cruel, but he had more important things to worry about than the thirteen demons Lucifer had massacred, destroying their meat suits at the same time. Lucifer had punched out chests, gouged eyes and cut throats with Sam's own hands. Sam thought he could still feel the blood on him.

"The blood then?"

Lucifer had drained the demons of their blood and drunk it down. He'd explained to Sam that it was necessary; his body needed to be strengthened before the battle to hold Lucifer. Sam had hated it, feeling the slick liquid pour down his throat, but that was over now. What worried him now was what would happen next. The battle and consequences for the world.

"It will all be over soon," Lucifer said confidently. "He is here."

Sam recoiled within his own mind. He recognized the man walking toward them through the long grass. "Dad!"

"Not anymore," Lucifer whispered to him.

John Winchester came to a stop and appraised Lucifer carefully. The face was so familiar but so wrong. It wasn't his father's awareness that shone in the eyes. It was all Michael.

"No," Sam moaned.

"Oh, yes," Lucifer said, and then he spoke aloud, his voice carrying across the distance to his brother. "Michael."

"Lucifer."

Sam cried out within himself and clawed harder, desperate to be free. He felt Lucifer wince.

Michael frowned. "Your vessel is protesting."

"Only a little," Lucifer said. "Yours?"

"No. He is held within a memory of his family, completely unaware."

Lucifer nodded and started to speak but stopped quickly as there was a flutter on the air and Sam saw Dean. Castiel stood beside him, his eyes moving between Lucifer and Michael with a look of intimidated fear on his face.

"Dad?" Dean croaked.

"Not right now," Michael said.

"Dean, run!" Sam shouted within his mind. "He'll kill you."

Dean's face crumpled as he turned to Sam. He seemed to be searching for something that wasn't there, perhaps Sam's awareness in the eyes, too. He didn't find it.

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised to see you," Michael said. "Winchesters have a weakness for family. I learned that from your father."

"You bastard," Dean growled.

Michael's expression darkened and a long sword slipped into his hand.

Castiel jumped in front of Dean, his arms spread wide. "Brother, no," he said, impassioned. "This is not the way of angels."

"Brother!" Michael snarled. "How dare you call me that after everything you have done? You are no better than him." He jerked his head towards Lucifer.

"What I did was for the protection of creation," Castiel said. "Humanity is our Father's greatest act. They must be protected."

"I do my Father's will," Michael said.

"You're wrong," Castiel said. "He would want them protected."

Sam knew what was going to happen a moment before it did. He felt Lucifer's amusement as Michael thrust out his blade and sank it into Castiel's chest. He cried out, "No!" at the same Dean did. Castiel fell back and ashy marks appeared on the grass in the shape of wings.

Dean stared down at the body of their friend, looking horrified. "He was your brother," he accused.

"Exactly," Michael agreed. "He was. And then he Fell and became nothing. Now he's meat." His lips curved into a cruel smile that Sam had never seen on his father's face before. "And now it's your turn." He lifted his blade and drew back his elbow. "Say goodbye to your brother, Dean."

Dean looked at Lucifer, and Sam saw the defeat in his eyes. He was done. Sam had failed him. The world was going to end. This was perhaps the most merciful fate for him. "Goodbye, Sammy," he said in a choked voice.

"No!" Sam kicked and clawed and punched. He threw everything he had into it, all the strength he had built fighting demons, all the desperation he had felt when Dean was gone, all the love he had for his brother. He put it all into the fight and then he felt his lips move in an action that was not his. "No!" It was Lucifer and he knew what was happening.

"Yes!" Sam broke free. It was like surfacing for air after too long underwater. It was life. It was freedom. It was everything.

Just like the night in the Wyoming cemetery, Dean looked at him, no fear in his expression but something like hope. "Sammy?"

Sam panted with the struggle of holding Lucifer within his mind. "It's me."

"This changes nothing for you," Michael said in John's deep voice. "In fact, it makes it easier for me, Sam. I will kill you both with ease now."

Someone cleared his throat. "Well, this is interesting," Crowley said. All eyes fell on him where he had appeared behind Michael. "Hello, boys."

"Demon," Michael growled.

Crowley grinned and lifted his right hand. He was holding a beer bottle with a rag sticking out of the top. In his other hand he held a Zippo. He flicked it open and held the flame to the rag.

"Gasoline?" Michael asked, amused.

"Holy oil," Crowley said in a satisfied voice as he lobbed it at Michael. The fire erupted over archangel, and he threw back his head and bellowed with pain. A high pitched whine cut the air and Michael disappeared in flames.

"Crowley…" Dean said, seemingly without words.

"Yeah, I'm awesome," Crowley said. "Now, he'll be gone ten minutes tops. You might want to make with the swan dive now, Moose."

For a moment, Sam felt a chill of fear. Michael was gone for now, but he would return. Who would protect Dean from him when he was gone? But then movement caught his eyes. Castiel's eyes were opening and he was looking around. He looked stunned and a name formed on his lips. "Father."

Sam saw it all then, as if in a vision; he knew how Dean's life would be now. Ellen, Jo, Sonny, Bobby, all people who would love him and make it right after Sam was gone. Castiel would protect him. Together, they would all save Dean. That was their mission now. Sam's was over.

Was it demon blood or Lucifer's feather touch of omniscience that told him? He didn't know. He just knew that Dean would live. Live, love and, one day, be happy

He smiled at his brother and, still fighting to keep Lucifer locked inside, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the rings. They felt even heavier than before. He threw them down onto the grass and closed his eyes. His voice was strong as he chanted the Enochian. "Bvtmon...Tabges...Babalon"

He heard a dull roar and opened his eyes to see a yawning hole in the ground.

"Sammy," Dean said desperately.

Sam looked at him, smiled and then turned away.

He stood at the mouth of the abyss and he felt calm. He was at peace despite the fact Lucifer was pummeling him from the inside to be free. He let himself tip forward, gravity and the pull of the cage reaching for him and dragging him down.

He felt no fear though. He was brave.

So… I don't know what to say apart from sorry. Make sure to come back for the epilogue.

Until next time…

Clowns or Midgets xxx