June, 28th 2014

I don't own any of the characters, CW and Eric Kripke do!

Beta for this Chapter: Ashqtara

A/N: Hey there my loyal readers :)

Oh God, I'm so fucking sorry guys...University was there and writrers block and I didn't really know how to write this chapter because it's quite complicated and I'm still so sorryyyyy T_T

But here's the new update, finally. I know you've all been waiting and I'm sorry again x_X University is entering its final phase but after that I should be free to write and finish the rest of this story :3 I hope you enjoy it, it is quite complicated ^^". But Hey, Death's in it! (I love him)

LegendaryArimaspi: Aww, thank you! That means a lot to me :3. It's always my biggest worry to write my beloved ooc xP

Ky111: I have to be honest here: I first thought I'd just take God and make him a mayor role in this, make him the one who had a solution and wanted Michael to survive. But really, it seemed like a flee from an actual plot device to just make God the one who makes everything perfect and suddenly mysteriously reappears (I also think the show sometimes used him as a weak plot device? How'd they get on the plane? Meh, maybe it was god! We just don't know *shrug*). So I decided against it. I want god to still be in hiding but I have a little surprise concerning him up my sleeve :) Also, it's explained in this chapter how he survives, hope it's understandable! xD

Falchion: Don't worry! No Death for Michael, I just love him too much :3 Also Grabriel...yeah, he could be in a bit of a peril ^^"

High Serpent King: Oh yeah I bet...and it's explained in this chapter :)

Yes: Awwwww, I'm honored! I know how hard it is sometimes to search through all the spn fanfiction to find what you want (with all the notps I'm sure all of us have). I'm glad I'm what you were looking for and I promise, I won't just stop! I hate it when that happens and I always finish what I started ^^. Even if it might take ages hehe *looks at PJO Fanfiction*

Silverwolf2017: Why thank you! Here you are :3 It is as soon as possible and I hope I can update quicker now :)

Sk8ernv: Awwww god, thank you! *blush*. I'm glad you like it! Yeah, I hated how the show just ignored Michael as one of the most powerful possibilities to end the Apocalypse. Sure, I understood why they did it, Free will and all but they didn't have to make ALL the angels dicks...That just made them a more powerful kind of monster and that wasted so many strong plot devices and an opportunity for a good ending...Okay sorry, I'll stop ranting xD

guest: Yeah, I love Michael too :3. No, it wasn't Gabriel, he's not powerful enough to heal Death's touch, unfortunately ^^. Just wait and read ;P And thank you, I'm so glad you like it :3

Now please enjoy :3

Chapter 21

God and his priests and his kings, turn their faces
even they feel the cold

Pain. Cold. Surrounding him, suffocating him. He held it all in, tried to not let it surface, tried to simmer it down to a minimum. He couldn't die here. There was so much left to do, accomplish, to save. No way could he leave that all behind.

What would happen to him, anyway?

"Michael, what happens to angels when they die?", he whispered into the quiet. Because the angel was still there, he could feel his embrace clearly around him, didn't know if he was being shielded or the divine being clung to him of all things.

"I do not know." Came the admittance. Dean wanted to scream. How could he not know? The hunter always thought angels were supposed to be these all-knowing perfect beings that just…knew stuff, protected mankind and fought demons. But then again, that believe –if he had believed in god and angels at all- had been shattered a long time ago. Angels were just as helpless in the face of their father's absence as humans were. They just had a bit more firepower and a longer life span to fall back onto.

That was pretty much all he could muster into clear thought before darkness took over again. His mind had been bright before, when Michael had been there. Bright and warm and a safer place than it had ever been in his entire life.

Now though…he wasn't even really aware of anything much. Just that it hurt. Like, really hurt. He'd been injured before, badly too. Hell should be the maximum concerning the amount of pain you could suffer, right?

Well, that assumption was just wrong.

Because this…this was far worse. That intensity in his surroundings he had felt in the last few days? It transferred to the negative things now as well, pain, suffering, the inability to breath. He wasn't sure how his body was still alive without the air it needed but in the brief moments of clarity he assumed that it was probably because of the angel taking up the greater part of his consciousness.

It probably wasn't even on intension but Michael had taken up most of what Dean could see, hear, feel or smell, if he did at all. It was like he had imagined the whole thing to go over in the beginning, being chained to a comet. Just that Michael was so much bigger than just a comet. More like a star or the whole solar system.

If he could, he would let out a sigh right now. Or rather, scream.

It was just to fucking painful…

Bobby looked over to the bed. Dean was so still…no breathing, no heartbeat. He had checked, of course. So was he dead? The hunter really wasn't sure and that was the most haunting thing about it all.

He'd seen Dean dead before. Not that he liked to think about it but it did happen. Just like then, he was just too still. Dean, alive and well would never be this still, shouldn't. Even when sleeping he moved more than this. The occasional painful moan or by now even whimper escaped his pale lips, smeared with his own blood and the feathers on the floor, every time one fell out of seemingly nowhere, Dean moved, uttered a sound of pain. The wings. They had to be connected to the grace somehow and them falling apart…it was a part of the death of angels, the smoking of their wings. Michael was dying slowly and painfully. Being stabbed must be a mercy killing by now.

But there was still hope…wasn't there? Gabriel was off to fight Lucifer. Maybe he as an archangel could set things right. Cas had also disappeared a few minutes ago. He said he was going to look for Gabriel and take care of some kind of list Bobby never heard of.

No…no. They couldn't rely on that. Never rely on angels and demons to sort things out themselves. That only ended in chaos. The mess they were in right now was a result of the hunters letting things play out on their own. Something had to be done…but what?

"Anything in that wise book of yours?" he asked Adam. The kid had been so quiet in the last day or two. Ever since Michael landed on their doorstep with their friends and famine's ring in hand, Adam had been even more reserved than in the time Bobby had been alone with him. Maybe he was overwhelmed. Or…

"This could have been me." Came the answer.

Oh. Or that.

"The angels wanted me as Michael's vessel. I could be the one right there, dying with him. They wanted me to do that. That's what I had counted on. But then again, Zachariah was just using me…to get to him." Adam looked up to Bobby and for the first time, the older hunter noticed that he kind of inherited that puppy dog look Sam always had. Maybe once upon a time, John did too.

"Is family really that important to him? They came. Both of them. Even though they barely knew me and I ran away on my own. They could have just left me there with the angels. Why did they even care?" the youngest Winchester seemed to be searching for an answer in Bobby's hooded eyes. The hunter sighed and scooted over a bit so he could properly face the younger man.

"Yeah, they do care. You know, they once thought they met you. When your mom and you died. It was ghouls…they thought the ghoul was you. I already told you the full sappy story. I think they blamed themselves for your death. Burned your body to make sure you couldn't be used…" he sighed, running his hand through his hair, then putting the cap back down on it.

"Dean…he always liked to hide what he truly thinks and feels. Kinda blame his dad for that. I don't know what kind of John Winchester you knew but the one who raised these kids…he might have loved them but he was a straight double star asshole, no doubt about it. After their mother died Daddy was never the same again. Always dumping Sam on Dean, then going hunting. Never once stopping to consider what they wanted out of the deal. Sam ran away to go to college. Nothing big if you think about it rationally but in Winchester world…god, it was messed up. Still remember Dean coming to me at one point, all sleepless eyes and weary sighs, John never just half drunk but full on hammered."

Bobby walked over and exchanged the cloth on Dean's forehead for a new one. He whipped away the fresh blood coming from Dean's lips and then sat down on the other bed again, still looking at Dean though.

"Dean just wanted them to be a family again. Never really got his wish after that. John died, he offered his soul for Sam, got yanked outta hell and here we are, death bed again. Fan-fricking-tastic." The sarcasm in his voice was so heavy he felt it almost dripping from his bearded jaw. He turned around to face Adam again, fake smile on his face.

"But hooray! At least they killed the damn demon." He stretched out his arms when another scream rode through their ears and made Bobby's heart sink lower and lower into his stomach…

"Hello, Dean."

Confusion hit him. The pain was stronger, he knew it. But it wasn't really in the foreground right now. Hidden behind layers and layers of cotton but still there. Did somebody give him morphine or something? No, this was different…where the hell did that voice come from?

"Over here."

If there could be impatience and patience in one tone of voice, this would be the one. The hunter whirled around and suddenly, he felt a floor under his feet, saw a ceiling over his head and dropped into a chair beneath him without even moving a single finger. What the hell…

"Death. I believe we've met." The smile on the man's face was strange. Forced but kind of sincere, too. He seemed to be made out of opposites. A force of nature, sitting right across from him. Wonderful. No wait. Horseman…right. Wasn't he the reason he was dying in the first place?

"So I really am dying." Was the only comment he gave. Real smooth, Dean, real smooth. If Death comes to your door, just state the obvious.

"Yes and No." was the very cryptic answer. Great. Of course Death was one of those people. Speaking clearly was apparently invented too recently for all these immortal beings to catch on to it.

"Now what's that supposed to mean?" he asked, feeling dumb all of a sudden. The raised eyebrow from the opposite side of the conversation didn't help.

"That's supposed to mean that you're not dead yet. And that there's still this…thing I could do to prevent it. Call it a loophole in my contract with the spoiled brat your people call a devil."

"Lucifer?" he was the one to raise an eyebrow now.

"Yes, yes, that one. See, I don't like him. But the whole Apocalypse thing kind of puts me into his power. So I had no choice but to touch Michael's grace on his direct orders, you see?"

"Yeah…I guess." He just decided to agree with the guy for now even though most of what he was saying kind of didn't make any real sense to him. There was silence. Dean looked around, discovering it was a completely white room with black chairs and glasses of red wine on the table between them, shimmering like blood in the not really present sunlight.

"So…what's the catch?" he finally asked. He was silenced by a raised hand, however and Death looked around.

"I'm waiting for Michael to notice me." He said and sat back a bit. Just a few seconds later, a form appeared. It didn't really take a body, it was just this kind of blinding light, shimmering out of form every second.

"What are you doing here, Death? Did Lucifer send you to gloat over my departing from this world?" Death pursed his lips but looked directly into the light. Dean himself had averted his gaze, not wanting to actually be blinded.

"Would you please choose a form and sit down? Last time we met your manners were far better. God's absence made you arrogant." The blinding light suddenly vanished and as Dean remembered, the younger form of his father stood there again and sat on a newly appeared chair, crossing his legs with a sigh.

"You're right. Maybe it did." He stole a quick glance over to Dean but then had his attention back on Death. The hunter suddenly noticed how much more paler Michael looked in this bodily illusion, even if it was just an image. He was obviously in pain, sweat on his forehead and he was continuously whipping blood from his lips. But nonetheless he was intend on listening and stared Death down.

"So what's the catch?" he asked. Dean stared. Death did so too. Then the horseman suddenly laughed. A politely amused sound, astonishing nonetheless.

"You really are quite a pair. Who would have thought. I'm here to tell you 'the catch', Michael. I'm here to tell you of the way out." He smiled and repositioned himself in the chair. Then he continued. Both of them were intently listening by now.

"I can't take my touch back, of course. Once I executed it, there's no turning back. Plus, Lucifer would know. But there is a way…" he paused, looking at Michael now, obviously aware that he understood far more than Dean did.

"You probably noticed this already but…you two, you're linked. Your soul and his grace." He looked at Dean now, pointing to Michael. "have joined together just a fraction. Just enough to link Michael's death to yours, just enough to doom you both together, when I touched you."

"And…that's good news how?" Dean questioned. Seriously. He was just telling him they were doomed together. How was that helping? Like, at all.

"That is good news because in reality, you two are not one. You are two separate beings who would indeed, need two separate touches of mine to be killed. Under normal circumstances, you understand. Separation at this point would help neither of you. On the other hand, fully joining…"

"…would annihilate the death of the one for the intact life force of the other by fusing them together. Of course…" Michael stroked his hands through his hair and smiled. "Yeah. That could work. We restore my grace with the pure power of Dean's soul." He looked to Dean, who was completely left out of the logic here, and tried to explain. "Human souls have so much power. More than any of you are actually aware. The reason why demons deal with them…well anyway. Your soul could heal me and when I'm fine again I could just restore whatever harm was done to your body." He leaned back in his chair.

"I think my work here is done, then." Death nodded and got out of his chair, which immediately vanished. Michael got up as well and Dean just followed out of instinct.

"I'm going to leave you two alone with this. My hands are bound. But I'm warning you…this is going to hurt as you would call it 'like a bitch'" a smile lit his lips. He reached for his finger, carefully taking his ring off. It was black and gigantic, Dean didn't want to think about having to wear it…ever. Death held the ring out and Michael put his hand underneath it.

"You're just giving it to us? Just like that?" Dean asked, bewildered. Death smiled creepily.

"I'll take any chance I get to get free of these chains. I don't very much like to be told what to do…especially not by a spoiled little angel brat. See you around, Michael."

Then he was gone and so was the room.

And with it, Dean's wall that disconnected him from the pain.

He felt it hit, felt himself scream in agony and heard Michael speak to him.

"Are you okay with this solution?" the angel asked. "It's going to hurt and I'm sorry. But it's our only way out of this."

"Then fucking do it!" Dean screamed, really, honestly, not caring any more. But if at the end of whatever tunnel they took, the pain would stop, he was fine with it. If he got to avoid dying in the process, why the hell not?

He wasn't prepared for it. But then again, when are you ever prepared for pain that lets you wish you actually chose the dying option? Yeah, not that often.

When the odd shaking feeling stopped and the muscles in his body stopped cramping up, his chest felt better and suddenly, he could breathe again. His lungs responded to this by deciding they needed their first breath right the fuck now, which resulted in the first intake in probably over a few hours. At the same time or a few milliseconds earlier, his heart decided to beat again. Dean hadn't even realized his insides hadn't done their jobs until now. Well how could he, wrapped up in all that pain. Next thing he knew, light flooded his vision when his green eyes shot open.

Gasping in deep hungry breathes, he looked around. And as always, the first thought on his mind…

"Sammy.." his hand lifted itself in search for his brother while his body already prepared for sitting up again.

"Woa woa woa. Calm down, Dean. You were…y-you were as good as dead just a few seconds ago. What the hell happened? Not that I'm complaining." Sam was there at his side just a second after hearing his name. Oh, that bright smile. Wasn't that worth coming back through all this pain for? But there were tears in his eyes too, tracks down his face…oh god, he looked like crap.

"Sorry for… for scaring you lot. I'm fine now. Michael got it fixed. We…got it fixed." He corrected himself. After all, his soul did all the important work, right? Sam's forehead kneaded into that famous frown of his.

"But…how?" he asked and Dean's hand couldn't help but pet the side of Sam's face affectionately.

"Sorry Bro, no time for chit chat. Where's the rest of the crew? We got an Apocalypse to fix." He swung his legs over the side of the bed, taking note of all the feathers on the floor and raised an eyebrow.

"You roasted a chicken without me?" he asked. What was curious though was the color of the feathers.

They were golden.

"I kinda thought they may be…you know, yours." Bobby threw in. He was still staring at the older Winchester, who was now peeling the cloth from his forehead that had almost literally burned into his skin. He threw it on the bed and laughed.

"Mine? You really think I actually have wings. Come on, Bobby, be realistic." He laughed. But the feathers did fascinate him. Still shaky on his feet, he leaned forward and bowed down to grab one of them. A beautiful, bigger one that gleamed in the sunlight.

"You can't touch them, they'll disappear." Adam commented. Of course he'd tried. But the feather just pulverized in his hand so Bobby and him had decided it was better to just leave them alone.

But Dean didn't listen. His vision was still pretty foggy and Sam was still beside him, leaning down with him, hovering over him like a concerned mother hen. Typical. A man couldn't even die in peace, huh? His fingers touched around the feather.

No disappearing happened.

However, a shiver went through his battered body and he stopped himself. Ther…t-there was something between his shoulder blades. He was starting to stand up fully now, the bed between the others and himself.

A collective gasp went through the room as some kind of energy spread through his body from the feather in his hand to his back, suddenly adding weight. Sam was gone from his side, staring, gaping.

He'd felt a twinge between the shoulders before, with Michael there. But the wings had never really been part of conscious things he had seen or recognized. He knew all the angels had them folded behind their backs and he had seen them, too. Cas' wings were a darker hue, for one. Gabriel's had been purely white. Nothing he had really put on his priority list while dealing with other stuff. But now…it was kinda present. And itching. What the hell…

"Oh. My. God…" Abby whispered. Her brown eyes stared at something behind him, as did the others. Suddenly, all eyes were on him. Or…behind him? He frowned and his head whirled around.

"What's th- Oh. Oh god." He breathed between his teeth.

From his back all the way over his sides and at least 3 meters on both sides, there were actual golden wings on his back. Actual. Wings. There were wings, from his back, spreading through half the room. And they were folded, too. He didn't even want to know what they looked like fully spread. And the feathers were huge, full and almost glowing, not like the matte ones on the floor.

Sam was coming forward again, staring in wonder.

"Wow…that is…wow. They are gorgeous." He said. Dean didn't know if that was a compliment or not.

"Well…thanks? I guess…I'm seeing how this could be kind of a buzzkill for undercover work though." He grinned. Always making a joke out of everything…

"Can I.." Sam reached forward with his right hand but like a reflex, Dean smacked it away. The wings recoiled, which looked funny. As if they had a life of their own…

"Don't touch my wings, Sam." He complained, fake annoyance in his voice. Sam almost giggled, along with the others. It was just so comical.

We can hide them on another plane again, Dean. The feather triggered them to manifest in this dimension. Sorry, I'm not showing myself. I think it's best if Lucifer finds out we're still alive at the last minute. Your presence and mine combined is something that's never existed. It is also the only reason these humans can witness your wings. Normally, that would not be impossible. It hides us from the angels and demons alike, too. We should be as good as dead to them.

"Okay. Yeah, maybe that hiding thing is better."

And wooosh. The wings were gone. He could still see them, somehow. They were lightly transparent. But the others looked as if their puppy was taken and he concluded the wings were invisible now.

"Damnit." Sam complained. Dean grinned at him. A triumphant grin meant for his victories over his brother.

"Sorry about that. Where were we…right. Where's the rest of the poop-group?"

"Cas is out to god knows where and Gabriel…well he said if you couldn't, he'd take his brother on."

All the blood that had shot back into his face seemed to drain from it immediately.

"What?" he asked. Michael seemed to direct his lips but it was also him asking the question. Weird feeling, really. "He did what?"

"Go after Lucifer. We told him it wasn't a good idea but-"

Dean shook his head and raised a hand, making Bobby silent instantly. His mind searched…maps and landscapes flying through his head. There. Clouds forming, storms, thunder and lightning, raging with strength not seen by mankind in a long time. He pointed at the others one by one.

"Don't. Go anywhere." He said.

Then he was gone.

And he hoped by the name of his beloved father that he was still in time….

Held between heaven and hell
As they're dancing,
As they dance over and over

[…]

What you are given
Can't be forgotten
And never forsaken…

Cold

"Cold", Aqualung with Lucy Schwartz

So yeah...off to hopefully save Gabriel! What do you think of the wings part? I wanted to have a "wow" moment with them because I always thought it was sad we never got to actually see them on the angels in the show. I bet Michael would be able to somehow show them and this was the way I wanted them to be there, for all of them to get a glimpse of the wonder that are angel wings.

I actually tried to draw them! Go on Deviantart and go to the account "kat-anni", there I have a drawing that's called "Dean Winchester, the Michael Sword". ^^

Also, Death is being his badass self again. I love how spn pictured Death to be, it's one of the things that I actually loved about the show (except how the last season kind of treated Reapers as angels? I was confused by that. I didn't like how they just twisted their own rules by some of the latest eps. For example the shapeshifters at the End of Season 9 that just kind of changed their look by will and not by skinning? The fuck is happening...Oh well)

What do you think? PLEASE tell me what you think, I'd really appreciate it! :3