Grab your kleenex guys, this one's messy. I'm sending you all my love and hugs, we'll get through this together. Enjoy.

"Okay, I got a few things." Dean and Sam looked up from where they sat in the living room, each from their respective newspaper to look at Bobby. "Cyclone in Florida, temperature drop in Detroit, wildfires in L.A." Dean nodded thoughtfully.

"What about Detroit?"

"Temps dropped twenty degrees, but only in a five block radius of Motown."

"That's it," Dean said, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. He stood up and nodded at Sam while pulling on his jacket. "Devil's in Detroit." He pulled his boots on, lacing them up quickly.

"You sure?" Bobby questioned. "As far as omens go that's a little light in the loafers."

"Yeah, I'm sure. Come on Sam." Dean stood up and pulled his keys out of his jacket, tossing them up and catching them out of the air absentmindedly.

"Hang on, I'm coming too." Bobby said, standing.

"No," Dean said quickly, glancing over his shoulder at him. "You've gotta stay here Bobby." In case Cas comes back. He added mentally. Bobby nodded and Dean turned to glance at Sam before stepping out the front door. They got in the car, started her up, and left for Detroit.

Dean sat in the Impala, alone and without the horsemen's rings. He was halfway between Detroit and South Dakota, in the parking lot of a rundown building off the highway. Why the hell did he think Sam could hold off the Devil?! He punched the steering wheel and screamed in frustration, almost deafening himself in the tiny enclosed space. "GOD DAMN IT!" He dropped his head in his hands and, for the first time in who knew how long, cried great moaning sobs into his palms. Hey, if you couldn't break down at the end of the world, when could you? His whole body shook as he finally let out all the stress he had been carrying over everything that had happened the past couple months. He had the whole world, and he just lost it. First he lost Cas, and got him back, only to lose him again. He had put his relationship with Sam on the line, and when things were finally getting better he lost him too. He balled his hands into fists and rubbed his eyes vigorously, scoffing at the wetness coating them. To his right, his phone started ringing on the seat. He took a deep breath and pulled the object toward him, seeing the flashing 'BOBBY' on the screen, indicating who was calling. He threw his phone back on the seat and took another deep breath, trying to quell the hitch in his breathing. He wiped his eyes and swallowed, trying to soothe the rawness in his throat. His phone silenced and after a moment made the notification sound informing him he had a voicemail. He stared through the windshield at the stars over the tree line. "What do I do now?" He whispered gruffly and rested his head on the steering wheel, feeling more helpless than he had ever felt in his life. Suddenly, he sat up, a half-cocked idea forming in his head, and he pulled his phone off the seat, flipping it open and going through the contacts. He found who he was looking for and hit the green phone button before putting the phone to his ear.

"Mistress Magda?" Said the man on the other end of the line.

"Who's Mistress Magda?" Dean asked.

"What? No one, a close friend."

"Yeah, I bet. Real close."

"Okay, why'd you call?"

"Sam said yes." Dean said after a moment, closing his eyes and leaning his head back.

"I know. I saw it. I'm just working on the pages."

"Did you see where the title fight goes down?"

"The angels are keeping it top secret, very hush-hush."

"Aw, crap." Well, Dean thought, there went that idea.

"But I saw it anyway." Dean sat up, listening attentively. "Perks of being a prophet. It's tomorrow, high noon. Place called Stull Cemetery."

"Stull Ceme- Wait. I know that. That's-that's an old boneyard outside of Lawrence. Why Lawrence?"

"I don't know. It all has to end where it started, I guess."

"All right. Thanks, Chuck." He pulled the phone from his ear and stared at the screen after ending the call, he thought about calling Bobby, but decided against it. Instead his thumbs moved swiftly over the keys as he sent the man a text instead. 'High noon tomorrow. Lawrence. Stull Cemetery. Sorry.' He flipped his phone shut and tossed it on the seat, keying the engine and listening to her roar into life. He hit the gas and glanced down at the clock. If he pushed, he'd make it there in time. He might have screwed up a lot of things lately, and he might not be able to stop it, but he was not going to let his brother die alone. His phone rang again, but he ignored it, focusing instead on the black asphalt stretching in front of him as he sped down the highway toward his hometown, in one last ditch attempt to thwart the apocalypse.

Dean grabbed his Def Leppard tape and shoved it in the deck, cranking up the volume until the knob stopped moving. He pulled up to the middle of the graveyard, the sun shining brightly overhead. He had driven all night in a grim determination to save his brother, disregarding his phone each time it rang. He pulled up to a stop as soon as he saw his brother and his other 'brother' standing in an empty patch of grass. He looked out of the car and smiled widely at the two men. "Sorry, am I interrupting something?" He turned off the engine and stepped out and closed the door, walking around the front of the car looking directly at the person that used to be Sam. "I need to talk to you."

"Dean, even for you, this is a whole new mountain of stupid."

"I'm not talking to you. I'm talking to Sam."

What was now Michael in and Adam suit stepped forward. "You are no longer the vessel Dean, you have no right to be here."

"Adam, if you're in there, I'm so sorry."

"Adam isn't home right now." Michael smirked.

"Then you're next on my list, buttercup, but right now I need five minutes with him." He pointed toward Lucifer, swiveling his eyes to his 'brother'.

"You little maggot, you are no longer part of this story!" Adam advanced on him, but before he could take two steps, everyone's attention was pulled off to the side of the field where two people had come to join them. Dean's heart sank.

"Hey Ass-butt!" Castiel called from where he stood in front of Bobby, he was holding something in his hand, a bottle with a wick, a Molotov cocktail, Dean realized. Their eyes met briefly before Cas threw the cocktail at Adam and he burst into flames, screaming bloody Mary. Dean stared at Cas, slack-jawed. He had been hoping he was just imagining things, that they weren't really here, but as he stared at the space that was distinctly lacking Michael, he knew he wasn't imagining anything. He wanted to scream at Cas, tell him to run, threaten him for being so stupid, remind him that he was human and could die and Dean could not deal with that right now. But instead he just gaped at the stupid, heroic man in the trenchcoat.

"Ass-butt?" He managed to croak out, unable to say anything else.

"He'll be back, and he'll be angry," Cas looked at Dean fiercely. "But you've got your five minutes."

"Cas…" Dean whispered under his breath, but his attention was quickly whipped back to Lucifer who was advancing toward the former angel.

"Did you just Molotov my brother?" He asked menacingly and Castiel shrank back, mumbling something. Dean stepped forward, unsure what he was doing. "Nobody dicks with Michael, but me." Lucifer brought his hand up and snapped. Dean felt the wind rush out of his lungs and he stumbled backward looking at the chunky, red, soup that used to be his angel. He couldn't say anything, couldn't do anything, and he couldn't tear his eyes away. I know. All I said was I know. He thought desperately, And now it's too late. He looked back at Lucifer, wide-eyed and angry. Before his brain had fully decided what he was doing, he rushed forward, intending to do what, he didn't know, but he was stopped when Lucifer came forward and grabbed his jacket, picking him up and throwing him on the hood of the Impala as though he weighed nothing more than a feather. He felt his back crack and tried to breathe in, only to find that he couldn't. He struggled for breath, as his vision clouded with stars.

"Sammy." He called out weakly, hearing two shots ring out in the field. Lucifer looked away, his attention diverted for a moment to Bobby who shrugged and dropped the gun he was holding. Lucifer brought his hand up and twisted, a loud crack resonated through the still air as Bobby's head twisted at an unnatural angle and he fell to the ground in a heap.

"NOOO!" Dean yelled. Lucifer turned his attention back to him.

"Yes." He said, pulling Dean's legs off the hood. Dean felt his bones crunch as Lucifer punched him square in the jaw, causing him to spin and hold onto the roof of his car, spitting blood. He took a breath and turned to face his brother.

"Sammy, are you in there?"

"Oh, he's in here alright." Blinding pain as another punch landed on Dean's face. "And he's going to feel the snap of your bones." Dean's vision clouded as his head rocketed back with the force of another hit. He couldn't hold himself up anymore and he crumpled. "Every single one of them." Before he could even hit the ground he was pulled upward by his jacket. He looked blearily into his brother's face that was not his own. "We're going to take our time." Another hit, and another, and another. It felt like every bone in Dean's face was turning to mush, crunching into little bits inside his face. One eye had swollen up and completely shut, several of his teeth had lodged in his cheek and everything was bleeding.

"Sam." He croaked through the blood in his throat. "It's okay. It's okay. I'm here. I'm not gonna leave you." Another punch, crumbling his eye socket, and another, shattering his cheek bone. "I'm not gonna leave you." He whispered, wishing he could just die. There was only one thing left, and that was Sam. Everything was gone. Everything was ending. And Dean could barely think through the pain in his face. He was sure he was going to die, he was sure his brain was probably knocked loose, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered, everything was gone. Lucifer pulled back again, balling his bloody hand into a fist, when he just stopped, seemingly frozen. Do it. Dean begged, unable to actually say the words. Please just do it. But he didn't. After a moment of waiting in suspense, his hand loosened and he stepped back, relinquishing his hold on Dean, who slid down the car to the ground. Dean stared up at the Devil who was wearing his brother.

"It's okay, Dean." Sam said. "It's gonna be okay, I've got him." No. Dean thought as he watched Sam pull the rings out of his pocket. He threw them on the ground and said the incantation; suddenly there was a gaping hole in the ground. He turned his back to it and threw his arms wide, Michael was back, and he shouted something then ran toward Sam and grabbed him. Sam opened his eyes and grabbed Michael, falling back and pulling them both into the gaping hole. With a flash of lightening the ground closed up and Dean's whole life was gone. He crawled toward where the horsemen rings lay on the ground and knelt, silently weeping for his lost brother. No Sammy, he thought, nothing's going to be okay.