ablation - SN fic - PG13
Title: ablation
Fandom: “Supernatural”
Disclaimer: not my characters; just for fun.
Warnings: blasphemy; future AU; spoilers for up to “Bedtime Stories”
Pairings: Azazel(Yellow-Eyed Demon)/Crossroad’s Demon; John/Mary
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 3845
Point of view: third
Dedication:
tigris_lilsis. This fic was going a completely different direction when I talked to her; I think the end product is much better.
Notes: This story is told piecemeal; it jumps around in time, tense, and point of view.
More notes: thanks to the lovely sadelyratefor reading over this
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You ready for this? You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.
Before he was born, Sam Winchester dreamed. Oh, all babies do, of course, secure and warm inside their mamas, safe and happy in the quietdark place. They dream of what was and what is and what will be, of the world yet to come and the world that has been.
All babies dream. But only two people have ever remembered, in the long history of the world. And that? Makes Sam a very special boy indeed.
It’s a familiar, oft-told story: heroes, quests, villains, death, violence, blood, fire, Right and Good against Wrong and Evil, Mama killed and Papa raising the baby alone.
Except, there’s two minor differences in this case, anomalies in the story.
The first? That Sam was secondborn.
The second? That John Winchester didn’t drown in his cups. Instead of raising frightened boys into belligerent men, he raised warriors.
And Sam still dreamed. He saw other worlds, what-ifs and could-have-beens; he saw the far past and distant future. As time went on, as he grew and learned, Sam realized how odd the clarity of his dream-recall truly was.
He kept it to himself, this knowledge, hidden deep inside his most secret place.
It was frightening-but also exhilarating. All children wish to be different, special. Sam remembered his womb-dreams: he was in a class all his own.
But what of him being secondborn? How does that change things? There are Chosen, each with a gift. Blood is dribbled on their tongue on a certain night, some mothers are killed and some are not. No gift is repeated; Azazel is too clever for that.
But each Chosen is a sponge and can soak up other gifts, to varying degrees, and Sam Winchester most of all. United, the Chosen are an undefeatable army. They could take the world with ease.
And every army needs a general. That’s where Sam comes in.
John Winchester knew, of course, from the beginning. Mary never lied to the man she loved. He knew she wasn’t normal, but he didn’t care. He adored her.
She told him the price that came for their time together, but they were young and in love, and the day of reckoning seemed so far away. Dean’s birth shook them back into fear, but nothing happened and life moved on.
By Sam’s birth, John had forgotten and Mary didn’t even know what night it was until she saw John asleep in the living room.
Azazel made a mistake. It was easily done and understandable. And so small-such a tiny mistake. But enough.
Sam remembers every dream he ever had, and he sees the future awake or asleep. He has presence and strength and a sure mind; he knows himself, fully, and accepts all facets as a piece of the whole.
He, of the Chosen, is the general. Azazel wants him to lead, and he will be excellent.
Sam is a leader. Dean is a follower. But-and this is where Azazel went wrong-Sam will always follow Dean.
In Mama’s womb, Baby slept a waking dream. Baby was warm and happy, never hungry or frightened. Baby knew everything was alright.
Sammy, though, knew what would actually come, and in Mama’s womb he cried.
Azazel should have marked Dean that night, or killed him. Sam would never be a firstborn, but even as an only child, Azazel could still claim him.
But Azazel looked at Dean and found him to be no threat.
A costly mistake.
Mary held her boys and loved them and sang them lullabies. Her husband John, her firstborn Dean, and the special one: her baby Sam.
Dean, she saw, had no ability to separate him. But Sam-
Oh, her poor Sam. He had such a hard road.
Dad treated Sam like he was a normal boy. At the time, Sam hated it. Looking back, though, he sees he has a lot to be thankful for.
Azazel wanted a general who would become a figurehead king, and he gifted Sam above all the Chosen.
He had no place in his plans for Dean. If he’d killed Dean as a child, that wouldn’t have been problem.
But Sam is a loyal boy. And by the time Azazel comes back for him, twenty-two years after the Marking, Sam’s loyalty is placed firmly on Dean.
And therein lies what Sam being secondborn really means.
None of the rest of Azazel’s Chosen had to split. He either ruined their childhoods and twisted them irrevocably or he took them as adults who had strained relationships because of their unavoidable oddness.
But Sam Winchester was the only one with a sibling who wasn’t gifted. Even Andrew Gallagher’s brother, his elder twin Ansem, had an ability.
But Dean? He was as normal as they come.
Even if the world kept bending around him, finding ways to keep him alive.
And that? Can be fully blamed on Sam.
Sam dreamed in Mama’s womb. He knew what all would come long before he had the words to express it. And he remembered after he left the quietdark safety and fell screaming into the world.
Azazel wanted a general. Instead he got Sam Winchester, a man who knew every twist and turn of the future, every secret of the past.
Azazel killed Sam’s parents and lover, stole all of Sam’s hopes for tomorrow. Azazel never worried about Dean. He believed the boy who had no ability would never be a threat.
But Dean grew and learned, becoming a warrior of unsurpassed skill. He cared for people on the whole, but loved only his family. If given a choice between his family or a town of innocents, he’d pick his father and brother every time.
Azazel never understood that Sam felt the same for Dean.
Mary told John once that she never feared tomorrow because she knew with surety that Sam would never be alone.
John taught his boys to track, to hunt, to fight, to shoot, to kill. Sam always dragged his feet, but Dean soaked up every lesson.
Sam knew the future, if only he could find the memories. Dean remembered the past, his childhood with Mama and Daddy, and he swore as his father and brother slept that he would always keep them safe.
Azazel came for Sam in the night, a year after Dad. Dean failed and Sam was lost.
Dean found his little brother just in time to hold Sam as he died.
Sam dreamed in the womb. As Death draws him close, he dreams again.
Let me go, he tries to tell his big brother.
Dean cannot hear him, and wouldn’t listen if he could. He promises, no matter the cost, to bring Sam back home.
Azazel learned only after his Chosen general returned to the world exactly why he should have killed Dean.
It was always war and he died, destroyed by a boy he’d never imagined a threat.
But they, the remaining Winchesters, were still caught in his plan, two struggling flies in a giant spider web.
Sam dreams of a time before, when Mama whirled around the kitchen, holding him her arms, laughter spiraling to the sky. Daddy picked Dean up and they danced together, so happy it makes him weep for the loss.
Sam died. He was dead for almost a day. Mom met him at the gate with a sad smile. “Not yet,” she said. “You can’t come in now.”
He looked past her, at the golden streets and bejeweled buildings. “It’s beautiful,” he mused. “But so cold.”
Mom stared up at him, lifting a hand to his face. He nuzzled into the touch, the only time he can remember feeling her skin on his. “You won’t be alone, Sam,” she said. “Let him keep you.”
Sam nodded. Mom knew, too.
Tell me, the demon-Azazel-whispers in the night. Are you sure what you brought back is completely Sam?
Dean watches the shadows on the ceiling and listens to Sam breathe.
What’s dead should stay dead, Dean. You said it yourself.
“Dean,” Sam says softly.
He rolls over to look at Sam; Sam’s eyes gleam in the darkness.
“Go back to sleep, man,” Dean says. “Long day tomorrow.”
“Dean,” Sam repeats.
“I know, dude,” he says. “Me, too.”
Azazel wanted a puppet, someone he could manipulate, someone he could control.
Instead he got someone so immensely strong the oldest demon in existence followed his command.
Azazel wasn’t around to see that, though.
“Just tell me who you are,” Sam says.
Ruby puts him off.
“Just tell me who you are,” he repeats.
She deflects.
“Just tell me who you are!” he demands and Ruby answers, “Fine,” blinking her eyes to show the inky darkness.
Lucifer smirks up at the boy-king, her replacement, her heir, and finds him beautifully charming.
The dealmaker and Azazel were lovers. Demons do love, you know. They were together before Christ’s birth, wreaking havoc in what would one day be the Americas.
The dealmaker’s name is lost; only Azazel ever used it and he called her an ancient word for Dove most often.
When Dean murdered Azazel, the dealmaker felt hollow. Anger came a short while later. She’d already made the deal, or she’d have taken him then.
Thousands of years together, and suddenly she couldn’t feel Azazel anymore. He was completely gone, out of reach. She stretched for him, but he wasn’t there. He wasn’t anywhere.
Dean Winchester, that boy he never thought about for more than half a moment, killed Azazel, the strongest demon in creation.
Ruby, that damned upstart who’d claimed to be Lucifer, had plans that tangled with Azazel. The dealmaker knew she would ruin what Azazel died for, and that could not be allowed.
But Sam Winchester, Azazel’s Chosen, Azazel’s favorite, brother of Azazel’s destroyer, killed Azazel’s bride.
Dean’s time is running out and Sam has no idea what to do. He knows that he knows how to get Dean free, but he can’t find the way. It’s in his head somewhere, hidden in his mind.
He dreamed of this, tucked safe and warm inside Mama. He saw Dean’s stupid deal, but he didn’t remember till it happened, and that pisses him off. He has all this information but he can’t access it. It’s there, but he can’t reach out and touch it.
Dean’s accepted his lot, but Sam hasn’t. Dean is ready and willing to go because he thinks his purpose is done: Sam’s alive.
But Sam knows better, knows that without Dean, he’ll probably become what Azazel wanted, what Ruby still wants.
Heaven didn’t let him in. He wonders if Heaven will go to war for Dean’s soul.
Two days left of Dean’s year, a measly forty-eight hours, and Sam wakes with the knowledge found.
He rolls over, stares at Dean’s peacefully sleeping form, and laughs.
That crossroad’s bitch. She knew. But Dean killed Azazel, so she was in no mood to share.
Mary kissed Dean after tucking him in every night of his life before November. She told him something with a soft smile, cupping his cheek, infusing the words with promise. Twenty-three years down the road, he only remembers part of the message.
Angels are watching over you, my sweet, angels with darkened wings.
John told Dean a half-truth and knew Dean would never do it. As he walked away, he wanted to ask forgiveness.
But he steeled himself because Azazel had no mercy and no idea what Dean brought to the table.
No demon had ever truly understood a human’s capacity for selfless devotion. Most humans didn’t even understand how deeply Dean’s love for his brother ran.
But John did. He’d helped craft it. And he died with the hope in his heart that it would be enough, because it was the last hope left.
A day left of Dean’s year and he watches the sunrise. He doesn’t know what’s coming; Sam killed the dealmaker, but she didn’t hold the contract. So who will claim him and lead him to Hell?
He’s happy-Sam’s safe. All the demons are back in Hell and he’s leaving no unfinished business. He’s given everything to Sam, like he always has.
He’ll go willingly with whatever comes for him, because he’s done.
In Mama’s womb, Sam saw the end of the world. It isn’t fire or ice, or even human activity. One day, every living thing just dies. God lets it happen, then repopulates the Earth with his chosen, those beings of Heaven.
In Mama’s womb, Sam didn’t understand. Now, a man grown, he does.
Heaven’s gate did not open for him when he died.
So he forces it open, Colt in one hand, and strides down the golden street. Mama watches in silence, neither condemning nor agreeing, and Dad holds her close. He nods as Sam passes.
Dean’s asleep back on Earth, in a cheap motel, sedated almost into a coma. Sam’ll deal with that fallout when Dean wakes up to realize that the year is done and only Sam came for him.
Ruby follows Sam with dainty steps, her demon-killing knife sheathed at her hip.
What Sam remembers that he always knew is that it’s not the weapon that kills. It’s the intent behind it.
Lucifer is god of demons because none of them believe she ever lived. Ruby was cast from Hell centuries ago for daring to say she was the LightBringer.
Lucifer hasn’t set foot in Heaven since she dared demand worship. Now she docilely follows Azazel’s Chosen.
She understands humans in a way no other angel, fallen or pure, ever has.
“Samuel,” God’s voice booms. “What are you doing?”
Archangels line up, flaming swords held loosely in their magnificent fists, glorious wings ready to catapult them forward for the killing blow.
Only two children have ever remembered their womb-dreams, and one of them is Son of God. Sam cannot claim that title.
“I’m here for the world, Yahweh,” Sam says, the words ringing clearly off Heaven’s precious stones, the angels flinching as he dares utter God’s holy name. “Give me the Earth and I’ll go.”
God appears before him, an old dark-skinned man in a white robe. “Why do you want Earth?” God asks.
Sam is at ease, as is God, but the angels and Ruby spoil for a fight.
“Why is that here?” Uriel hisses, eyes on the first of the fallen.
Ruby grins. “I follow Sam,” she says, shifting on her feet. “Does that bother you?”
God tells them, “Silence.” Uriel subsides. Ruby shrugs.
“You will destroy it in a few millennia,” Sam says, ignoring everything but God. “I don’t want that to happen.”
God straightens, fire billowing in his eyes. “I am the Creator, boy,” he says, Heaven trembling beneath their feet. “My will is all that matters.”
Ruby’s glee is palpable as Sam raises the Colt and utters one word.
“Wrong.”
It is a swift, brutal war. Demons stream through the destroyed gate and battle angels. Anything that gets too close to Sam with intent to kill turns to dust.
Finally, only Jesus and Sam stand on the tarnished street. Most of Heaven’s citizens have fled; John and Mary are down the way, watching, guarded by Sam’s power and blood. Demons crouch on the edge, captive angels waiting for Sam’s judgment.
“What do you want, Samuel Winchester?” the Lamb of Heaven asks quietly, brown eyes full of sorrow.
“I want Earth,” Sam repeats. “I will leave you Heaven and all your folk, so long as you swear fealty to me.”
Jesus gazes around Heaven, at the blood and destruction. “Very well,” he says. “Take Earth. Leave me what remains of Heaven and I will never make war on you.”
Azazel had plans. He would rule from behind the throne, the true power. Sam was meant to be easily manipulated after he came out on top.
But he wasn’t. He was weak and let Jake Talley kill him. He died. Because of Dean, Sam came back.
Azazel had not planned on that. When he realized his Chosen had gone and gotten himself killed, he called his wife and told her that if Dean Winchester summoned her, to make the deal.
“Gladly,” she said. “I owe that arrogant pup a thing or two.”
So Azazel thought he had won, despite Sam’s spectacular failure. Darkness encroached on Sam’s edges, blossoming in his cold-blooded murder of his own murderer. Sam took one giant step toward Azazel in that graveyard, Jake’s lifeblood dotting his face.
And then Dean got a hold of the Colt, and Azazel was not faster than a speeding bullet.
Azazel had no room in the master-plan for Dean Winchester, the normal human, and his last thought was Damn.
Sam led his forces back to Hell and told Ruby, “Resume Lucifer.”
She smiled and shed the skin. All the demons stepped back, awed. Sam turned to look over them, the survivors. “This is Lucifer, Lord of Hell,” he said. They knelt and he continued, “I am King.”
Lucifer howled loyalty, her chilling voice rolling across Hell’s plains.
“Do as you like with Hell,” Sam commanded. “But only leave if I summon you.”
The demons spread out, exhilarant with their sweeping victory in Heaven.
“Azazel did not intend this,” Lucifer said, voice deep and dark, now larger than Sam. “He would not be glad of this end.”
Sam laughed. “It doesn’t matter now. I am King of Heaven and Hell.” He smiled at his lieutenant, the oldest demon in existence. “Stay here, LightBringer, Lord of Hell. Come to me only if I summon you.”
Lucifer inclined her head respectfully. “As you say, King, Lion of All.”
Dean wakes long after sunrise. Sam is leaning against the window, looking out. Dean yawns, sitting up. There’s something he should be remembering. “Time’s it?” he asks, throat sore. He rubs at his neck.
“’bout eleven,” Sam answers quietly.
Dean cocks his head, straining for the date, but it’s out of reach. He studies the set of Sam’s shoulders. “What’s wrong?”
Sam laughs. “I did a bad thing this morning,” he says.
Dean rolls out of bed and pads over. The carpet is rough on his feet and the air cold on his skin, and there is something he should be remembering, but his focus is completely on Sam. “What’d you do?” He doesn’t think it’ll be that awful-Sam probably took the car and ran a stop sign, or something.
“I led the army of Hell into Heaven.” Sam doesn’t look over. “I killed God with the Colt. I reinstated Lucifer as Lord of Hell.” He laughs and it sounds slightly mad. “I am the King, Dean. I am the Lion of All.”
Dean can’t think of a thing to say. Finally, “Are you joking?” bursts out of him. “That’s not funny, Sam.”
Sam turns, face serious and solemn. “No, it’s not,” he agrees, and the date screams into Dean’s head. “It’s not funny at all.”
In Mama’s womb, the Son of God spoke to Sam. Father will not give you what you want, the Lamb of Heaven said.
Sam, the Lion of All, asked, And you will?
Jesus paused. Sam waited.
I gave it to you already. Jesus’ voice was filled with love. I gave you Dean.
Azazel did not plan for Dean; nor did God. He slipped into life, a gift of one special boy to another, and only those two knew his true, boundless worth.
As Dean rants at Sam for sedating him and storming Heaven, as Dean runs out of words and sinks onto the bed in wonder and horror, Sam turns his inward gaze to Heaven and whispers, Thank you.
Jesus, on the golden street, trying to calm his people, replies, You are welcome, my brother of spirit.
It could have been so much worse, and they both know it.
Forgive me? Sam asks, basking in Dean’s presence.
There is a pause before Jesus answers, Yes.
“Sam.” Dean’s voice is gentle, just this side of lost. “What…”
Sam kneels in front of him and looks up to meet his eyes. “I’m still me, Dean,” he reassures his brother. “I just now know what all that means.” He reaches up slowly to touch Dean’s face.
Dean does not pull away.
Mary told John, curled up in his arms after their first love-making, My son will rule creation.
John rubbed her arm. Okay, he agreed, mostly asleep.
She laid her head over his heart, listening. He will be a good man, she whispered. He will be.
Lucifer waited for centuries after Azazel led the coup in Hell, casting her out. She waited and she watched the traitor’s plan unfold.
She howled with mirth when Azazel died, killed by her brother’s selfless gift. And she knew then that she must act, must throw in her lot with the Lion, the man who would be King.
Lucifer understands humans. That is why she refused to bow before them in Heaven. She knows they are not better than angels or demons, nor are they less.
They simply are.
Dean doesn’t know what to think or do. He stares at Sam, mind racing, trying to think of something to say. Anything at all.
“God’s really real?” It isn’t what he meant, but it’ll do.
Sam laughs. “Was.”
Dean nods, completely at a loss.
“I left Jesus in charge of Heaven. Lucifer’s rulin’ Hell.” Sam licks his lips and Dean can’t look away from his haunted, terrified eyes. “But I’m their boss.”
“You,” Dean says. “My geeky kid brother. The higher-up of the highest-ups. God’s killer.”
Sam ducks his head. “Please don’t hate me, Dean.” He lets his arm fall away, back to his side. “Please don’t hate me.”
This is Sammy. This man, this monster. This is Sammy, who wanted Lucky Charms and always gave Dean the prize. This is Sammy, of too-long hair and skinned knees, of puppy eyes and temper tantrums. This is Sammy, the baby he kissed goodnight in Mom’s last moments alive.
This is Sammy.
“I could never hate you.” Dean is sure of that. “Now get up, ‘cause you’re startin’ to freak me out.”
Relief sweeps Sam’s face and he rises from his knees, settling too close beside Dean on the bed. But Dean doesn’t move.
“So, now what?” Dean asks.
He feels Sam shrug. “Whatever you want. We could hunt-all the demons are back in Hell, but ghosts are still around.”
Dean bites his lip. He suspects, but-“If you killed God, why didn’t everything end?”
Sam stiffens before breathing deeply. “I took his place.”
Dean has nothing to say to that except, “Okay.”
Azazel’s Chosen was quite the special boy. But not quite the way Azazel meant. Azazel wanted to rule Heaven, Earth, and Hell unopposed, with Sam Winchester as his figurehead.
But something went wrong in Azazel’s plan.
Jesus, Lamb of Heaven, gave Sam a big brother, a mere human boy. And Azazel overlooked the child, allowing him to keep his life.
A simple, tiny mistake.
But a fatal one.