Atlas Shrugged Part 1
Title: Atlas Shrugged
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including 6.11, AU from there
Warnings: AU, slash
Word Count: 6,039
Summary: After everything they have fought so long and hard for has fallen apart, Castiel suggests a radical and absolutely forbidden plan.
Dean ignored the snow as it fell faster and faster around him, taking a good long swig of his whiskey bottle instead. He'd given up on the glass a long time ago, well before he'd left the house in fact. Part of him knew that he wasn't dressed for the weather and that he'd likely catch a cold if he stayed out here any longer- if he hadn't already- but the rest of him just didn't care.
It hadn't worked, the wall that Death had put up around Sammy's memories of Hell hadn't held. Well, either that or his idiot of a brother hadn't been able to resist scratching at it and it had collapsed under the strain. Dean wasn't quite sure which of the two options it was, but he didn't really care. All he cared about was that at first it had appeared to work, Sammy had been back, his real brother and not that soulless atrocity he'd been forced to deal with since leaving Lisa's.
It had seemed like a miracle, a veritable dream come true and something which Dean, if he was being honest with himself, hadn't ever expected to see realized. That right there should have been his first clue of what was to come, after all how often did good things happen to them? He could count the number of instances on one hand. Things that looked good at first only to show their ugly underbelly later, however, now those were far too common to count. Like he'd told Castiel the first time he'd met him, in his experience good things just didn't happen to him.
So how had he allowed himself to believe that it would now? Dean wasn't quite sure, but figured it probably had a lot to do with the fact that he'd needed it to be true so desperately this time. He'd literally been at his wit's end and all alone. Castiel was off in Heaven fighting a Holy War with Raphael and had little or no time for him. Bobby was obviously busy with all kinds of other stuff as he'd told him in no uncertain terms not too long ago. Lisa had made it more then clear that things between them were over as far as she was concerned. And as for Sam, well his brother just hadn't been there anymore before the apparent miracle and instead all he'd had was a look-alike he couldn't trust as far as he could throw him. All in all, he'd believed simply because he couldn't not believe. Besides, for a short while there, it really had looked like things were looking up. Sam had seemed like his old self again, albeit a very confused and disoriented self, but his little brother nonetheless.
Then the memories of what his soulless self had done had started to creep in and it had all gone downhill from there. First had come the horror and disbelief, then the guilt and apologies, until finally it seemed like the wall had just collapsed or been broken and Hell in all its glory had come crashing back over Sam until all that was left was a whimpering, broken shell of a human being.
Dean chugged half of what remained in the bottle in one go, desperately trying to block out the memories of his brother's screams as the memories had come flooding back to him. He'd done that to people, whatever it was that Sammy had been subjected to, was something he'd done to countless souls who'd had the misfortune of ending up on his rack in Hell.
The thought alone was enough to make Dean finish off the bottle. Why Sam? Why had this happened to his little brother? Of the two of them, he was the one who'd done more to deserve going to Hell, not Sammy who'd never intentionally done anything wrong. Yes, he'd been stupid at times, trusting a demon, a creature he of all people should have known to be untrustworthy, but that and everything else he'd done had been with the best of intentions. He himself, on the other hand, had no such excuse. He'd climbed down off of Alastair's rack with the express purpose of torturing people just so that he himself would no longer be tortured. He'd done it for purely selfish reasons and there was no getting around that fact.
The desire for more whiskey with which to drink himself into oblivion warred with his need to stay out of the house; to stay as far away from the shattered shell of his baby brother as possible. His internal debate was abruptly cut off as Castiel appeared before him in a flutter of wings.
"Shit! Damnit!" Dean cursed, jumping back in shock and stumbling as his hip clipped one of the old junkers, sending pain flaring up his side.
"You're drunk," Castiel stated in disapproval.
"No shit, Sherlock."
Although Dean had not yet had enough alcohol to have reached the state he wanted to be in, he'd definitely had far too much to have even a hope of evading the two fingers that reached for his forehead, though he definitely tried. The next instant he was one hundred percent, stone cold sober. Just like that, several hours worth of effort and countless units of alcohol were gone and the crushing weight of reality came crashing back down on him once more. If he'd thought things had seemed bad even ten minutes ago, they was nothing compared to what it was like now.
"What the hell?" Dean demanded, furious, as he stepped forward right into the angel's face. "Why'd you go and do that for?"
"You were drunk," Castiel replied simply.
"Yes, exactly! Do you know how hard I worked to get like that? How much I wanted to be like that?"
"No, Dean, I-"
"You had no right, Cas, no right whatsoever!"
"I need you sober for this discussion."
Dean blinked and stepped back at that, some of his anger fading as he realized that there was actually a reason behind Castiel's actions other then disapproval over his excesses. Now that he was thinking more clearly, he noticed how disheveled and bad the angel's appearance was, even for him. His clothing was torn and bloodied, not to mention dirty, and his hair was even more in disarray then normal. It looked like Castiel had been on the losing side of a fight and he felt his heart sink in horror and dread.
"Shit, Cas, don't tell me that Raphael kicked your ass."
The angel's shoulders went stiff, indignation and pride visible for a moment before they slumped forwards and defeat entered Castiel's eyes. Dean knew what the answer was even before it was verbalized.
"Yes, he managed to find one of the missing weapons and used it to kill a large number of the angels with me after luring us into a trap. Many of those that survived have surrendered, not believing that we can win this war anymore."
"How'd you manage to get away?"
"Raphael underestimated my desire to keep you safe."
"Huh?"
"He was taunting me, saying what he'd do after he killed me and before seeing to it that the Apocalypse was restarted. He threatened to come torture you himself until you begged to say yes to Michael."
Dean shuddered at the words, remembering the archangel's threats from their previous meeting only all too well. Although the angels had already made it clear that they were no Alastair, he had no doubt that Raphael could make things very painful for him indeed.
"Well, I'm sorry you lost so many of your brothers and sisters, but I'm glad you got away alive," Dean finally replied.
"You do not understand. Now that Raphael is in charge of Heaven, he will have you hunted down, Dean. Even the sigils I carved into your ribs won't be worth much with all of the angels looking for you, especially not here at Bobby's whom they know you visit."
"Whoa, slow down, why's he so interested in me anyway? Yeah, I helped you trap him before, but surely he's got bigger fish to fry, like, oh, say getting his dickwad brothers out of the cage."
"I have told you before, Raphael is a traditionalist and as such he is determined for things to play themselves out as he thinks that they should."
"Which means I have to be Michael's vessel instead of Adam."
"Yes, precisely."
"Shit."
"We don't have much time, Dean. Raphael is consolidating his power just now, but then he'll start looking for you."
"Yeah, well, what do you want me to do, Cas? I can't just up and leave here, not with Sam the way he is. He's a wreck!"
"I need your permission."
The words and Castiel's tone stopped Dean dead in his tracks. This wasn't something simple they were talking about, this was something serious, deadly serious from the sounds of it. And yet there was only one thing he knew of for which angels needed consent and that just didn't make any sense whatsoever.
"I thought being a vessel was something quite specific, that there were different bloodlines and all. From what Michael said, I didn't think one could just accept any angel."
This time it was Castiel's turn to look confused, his head tilting to the side, before understanding dawned. "You think I am asking you to become my vessel?"
"You're asking for permission," Dean shrugged.
"No, that's not possible, you could only hold Michael," Castiel paused. "Would you have said yes?"
The mere fact that part of him would have scared Dean shitless, but not so much as the thought of losing the angel entirely did. As infrequent as his visits were and as strained as their relationship had become, Castiel was still practically all he had left outside of Bobby. The thought of losing him, especially now that he had such real proof of why the angel had been so worried about losing the civil war, scared him even more on a level he didn't want to inspect too closely.
"If not that, then what?" Dean demanded instead.
For a moment it looked like Castiel was going to pursue the matter before he dropped it. "I want to try something. I don't exactly require your permission for it like Michael does, but since it will in all probability result in both our deaths, I thought it prudent to ask."
"Ah, I see, thanks for that. So what harebrained idea do you have now?"
"Something that is absolutely forbidden," Castiel stated. "Something for which the penalty is death should any angel be caught attempting it."
Dean felt a swell of pride rise within him at those first few words. It was the first positive emotion he'd felt in far too long and he pounced on it, greedily using it to push the darkness away a little. Castiel really had come a long way from the stiff, obedient soldier he'd been that first time they'd met in the barn three and a half years ago. He only wished it had worked out better for his friend.
"Not like Raphael isn't planning to do that to you anyway," Dean pointed out.
"Yes."
"So what is this thing?"
"I want to go back and alter history."
Dean frowned. "I thought you said the past couldn't be changed, that destiny is fixed and all that crap."
"On the whole it is and that is definitely what they want everyone to believe, even most of the angels. Now with time travel that is the case, you can alter the details but not the whole, not without creating a paradox that would tear apart the very fabric of reality."
"Yeah, yeah, I got this part from Sam already after I told him about you sending me back to see Mom and Dad. So, what's this plan of yours if you can't alter the past via time travel?"
"It's something I discovered while in charge of Heaven. It was in a very old book that we aren't supposed to look at, but which I read nonetheless."
Dean couldn't help but smile as another wave of pride rose within him. "Cas, you rebel."
"It spoke of a way to take a soul back in time like with time travel, but of doing so without the body."
"Like when someone's dead?"
"Yes."
"Wouldn't it be kinda hard for that person to do anything, without a body and all?"
"If left like that you, the soul, would essentially be dead," Castiel agreed. "But what this book talked about was a way to merge that soul with its earlier counterpart. Basically to rehouse it in its own body, but just the body of the past, so that it became itself."
"Wait, wouldn't that mean there were two souls in one body?"
"No, they would be fused into one. You would still be the you of whatever time we picked, but with all of your memories from now fully intact."
Dean almost preferred it when Castiel had been talking in the abstract rather then with a 'you'. Oh, he'd been in no doubt of who they'd been talking about, but that extra level in between had been surprisingly comforting.
"And that would let me to change the past without creating a paradox?"
"Yes, as only your soul would have traversed time and not your body. It is how you are able to remember being in Heaven and Hell despite the fact that your body was never there or that only a fraction of the time you spent there occurred here."
"What about you?"
"I'm an angel, the same rules don't apply."
"But you're in a vessel."
"Jimmy is no longer with us, hasn't been since Raphael smote me."
"Oh."
It was a lot to take in all at once and Dean didn't quite know where to start. He was all too aware that their time was running out, but this almost seemed far too good to be true. After all that had happened so recently with Death and Sammy's soul, he was loathe to accept anything else good at face value again. The thing was, though, Castiel had already made it clear that there were risks involved here as well and that moved the whole thing onto slightly safer ground as far as he was concerned. Yes, there had been risks with Death's plans too, but there they had been hidden and the whole thing had started off so well. Here that didn't seem to be the case. If this went wrong, he'd know that right away as he'd be in Hell again instead of some time in the past.
"So you're willing to try this despite the fact that you were ordered never to do it?" Dean asked.
Castiel shrugged. "I have found that I have little respect left for those rules seeing how my brothers and sisters flaunt them to no effect in their selfish quest to attain Paradise. If they can do so for that, then why shouldn't we do the same in order to save the world?"
Dean just couldn't help but feel uneasy about the whole suggestion. This was so far beyond his pay grade or anything they'd ever contemplated before as to be mind-boggling in and of itself. Well that and there was the fact that he now had a little voice whispering newly discovered warnings at the back of his head.
"Won't that have some kind of horrific consequences, though?" Dean inquired. "Some kind of ripple effect for upsetting the natural order of things?"
"How do you know about that?" Castiel questioned sharply.
"Tessa and Death told me about it after taking me for a little tour of the business. Let me tell you tha-"
The rest of what Dean was going to say was lost as his breath left him in a rush when Castiel grabbed him and pushed him up against the junker he'd been standing beside.
"You spoke with Death, the Horseman?" Castiel demanded darkly.
The angel tilted his head, blue gaze piercing him as if looking into his very soul, something not altogether impossible given who Dean was dealing with here, although recent events would seem to indicate otherwise. If Castiel hadn't been able to tell that Sam didn't have a soul- and indeed had been forced to reach into his brother to determine that- then how could the angel possibly be looking into him, no matter how much it seemed like he was able to do so?
"Yes."
"You spent quite a while with Death."
"I saw him several times. I wasn't expecting to as I'd failed the task he set me during our initial meeting, but he showed up here of his own accord."
"No, I can detect far more of his presence on you... in you almost."
"Huh?"
"You wore his ring."
Dean didn't know how Castiel had deduced that and wasn't sure if he wanted to. The mere mention of the angel being able to detect Death's presence on him- let alone in him- was more then enough to start freaking him out, though the latter might explain Cas' realization. And wasn't that great? On top of everything else from that horrible day, the damn ring had also tainted him.
"Yeah, that was the deal we made," Dean explained though the word nearly made him choke and he flinched at Castiel's disapproving glare. "I wear the ring for a whole day without taking it off and he returns Sam's soul with a wall to block off what happened to him in Hell."
"Did you manage it?"
Although the words were spoken softly, sympathetically even, as if Castiel already knew the answer, Dean knew better then to think the angel had already forgotten what he'd said about the deal. He'd managed to avoid using that word around Bobby and Sam for precisely this very reason. It figured that he'd have to slip up in front of the angel.
"No, I fucked it up."
"Of course you did," Castiel stated and Dean's head jerked up in shock. "Dean, not only are you human, but the Righteous Man as well. There is no way that you would have been able to simply fall in line with the capricious nature of death, not when you had to be the one touching those marked to die. Your whole life you have fought to save people, there was nothing you could have done other then to fail in that endeavor. It is one of the reasons why Death is a Horseman and not a human, and why reapers exist. Their job is not something a human can handle, nor were you ever meant to."
"That would have been nice to know ahead of time."
"Would it have made a difference? Would you have refused the offer if you had known?"
"No," Dean admitted reluctantly. "But I might have done things differently if I'd known what sparing someone would have done."
"I am not so sure," Castiel said and the angel was now entirely in his personal space, hands cupping his face. "If you had been someone who could sacrifice a few for the good of the many, you would have said yes to Michael."
"That's different."
"Is it? Is there a fixed number at which the sacrifice of a few is no more acceptable?"
Dean sighed and closed his eyes as the angel had yet to release his face. His own hands came up to grasp Castiel's wrists as something occurred to him.
"So you're saying that we shouldn't do this? That we shouldn't risk upsetting the natural order of things?"
"The natural order has already been upset."
"What?"
"Things are no longer as they should be," Castiel stated. "The signs started out small but have been growing in alarming intensity the more time passes. Surely you have felt the shift in the supernatural world?"
Dean's eyes widened in realization. "You're saying all of the unusual behavior and the sudden appearance of the alphas has to do with this?"
"Yes. Normally you only have a few alphas awake at any one time and then they would be spread all over the world. Alphas often go into a dormant stage to pass time when they get bored. For all of them to be awake at once and within three thousand miles of each other is unheard of."
"Wait, why are they all here?"
"Because the center of the disturbance is here in this country and they are drawn to it. That is why I believe the Apocalypse has something to do with it as the vessels of so many of the archangels- Raphael, Gabriel, Michael and Lucifer- were also found here. Not to mention the fact that my vessel was here as well as those of Uriel and Zachariah, or that Anael was born as a human in this country."
"Okay, okay, I get it, far too many coincidences for them to really be coincidences."
"Indeed. The manner in which souls have also- what?"
Dean hadn't realized how badly he'd started at Castiel's words until just then. "Well, it's just what Death said when he told me that he was going to bring Sammy's soul back after all. He said that we were onto something with the souls and needed to keep digging. It was why he decided to do what I asked despite the fact that I failed the task he assigned me."
"That would lend further credit to my belief that this must be done, if even Death himself is willing to make an exception to the rules. That is something else that I don't think has ever happened before."
"But why?" Dean demanded. "Yeah, I get that he would want to see things rectified if the natural order of things had been disturbed, but why return Sam's soul? I mean it's not like we'd take him with us, that would defeat the whole point as far as he's concerned." It was only because Castiel was still holding his face and not allowing him to look away that Dean caught the flicker of understanding in those blue depths. "What?" he demanded, feeling his stomach drop. "What is it?"
Suddenly Castiel released his face and stepped back and it was only then that Dean realized exactly how close they'd been. The only other time his face was ever that close to someone else's was when he was going to kiss them and yet he'd not really noticed that fact until just now.
"Castiel."
Whether it was because he had used his full name or some other reason, Dean didn't know, but he didn't really care at this point.
"You have to remember that Death is a Horseman and not a human," Castiel began.
"Okay, so?"
"So he would know almost everything that there is to know about manipulating humans and emotions to attain his goal even if he is unable to experience any true emotions himself."
"Quit dithering and get to the point, Cas."
If Dean were honest with himself, he'd admit that the angel's apparent evasion of the truth was starting to make him nervous. It wasn't often that Castiel hesitated to be anything other than brutally honest and direct, so he knew that he wouldn't like what the angel had to say now.
"It would not be entirely inconceivable for Death to have brought Sam's soul back knowing that your brother would be unable to keep himself from picking at the wall holding back his memories of Hell and thus be debilitated by them."
"What?" Dean demanded. "Why would Death go to all the effort of getting Sam's soul from Lucifer's cage if that was his intention? Surely it's not worth the time it took him."
"Not unless he wished to push you to the edge and make you consider options that you would otherwise have passed over without another thought," Castiel said gravely.
The words froze Dean in place as the implications shattered him. "Cas, you think he...?"
"If he thought that this was the only manner in which to restore the natural order of things, then I am sure that he would act in whatever manner he deemed most likely to attain the desired outcome. I am sorry."
He was more then sorry, Dean could tell. Not only was there a subtle change to his voice, but the muscles around his eyes tightened slightly in a way that would have been missed by anyone who didn't know Castiel as well as he did, but he caught it. The angel was angry, no doubt furious, on his behalf and it soothed him a little even if it didn't come close to taking care of all of the hurt he felt.
"So he let this happen to Sam just so that I'd do what he wanted me to?" Dean questioned just to be sure.
"Yes."
The knowledge made Dean close his eyes as fury of his own awoke inside of him. Just the mere thought of Sammy's screams as the wall had come down was enough to haunt him forevermore and to think that the bastard had intended for it to happen was almost too much. Why hadn't Death just told him about this other way that existed? That everything was out of order and there was a way to fix it that could allow them to avert the entire Apocalypse fiasco before it even began? That he could save not only his brother, but his parents as well? Didn't Death think he'd take it?
The thought made Dean pause. Was he seriously considering doing this? Yes, he still wasn't quite sure that he believed anything good could come of this, but what were his alternatives? He could either wait here for Raphael and his angels to come or he could run, trying to stay one step ahead of the douche bags as he desperately sought for something to help Sam. Neither of those options were particularly appealing and he knew that he couldn't take on all of Heaven. Before it had been bad enough when dealing with just Lucifer and Michael, but now he was potentially talking about every last one of Castiel's remaining brothers and sisters. There was no way that he could take on that and hope to survive. Especially when death wasn't even an escape but rather just another means with which to torture him.
Yet, despite all of that, the knowledge that he was potentially playing right into Death's plan for him grated on Dean. He had never done well with being manipulated or told what to do by anyone other then his father. Hell, his natural reaction was to do the opposite of what was wanted of him. He wasn't sure, though if he could do that now. Not with Sammy the way that he was and not when there was the possibility of saving his entire family along with countless other people.
"What's the catch?" Dean demanded. "What could go wrong here?"
"You mean beyond both of us being killed in the attempt?"
"Yes."
"That we fail to alter things sufficiently to ensure a better outcome," Castiel replied, regarding him steadily. "Or that we make things worse in some manner. But there is also the chance that we succeed, Dean, and make things better. We both know how events will play themselves out and thus we know where we need to be to prevent key steps from being achieved."
"Don't really believe in good things, Cas, remember?"
"At the very least, we will be preventing you from making your deal and going to Hell. Without that, there is no easy way for the first seal to be broken, thereby potentially averting the Apocalypse."
The words made Dean flinch a little as they brought back to him the memory of Sam dying in his arms while he could do nothing and then of his meatsuit, cold and rotting on the bed of that abandoned house. He could still not think of that without pain tearing through him and yet, for the first time ever, he could think of it without knowing that he'd do what he'd done back then if he found himself back in that situation with the full knowledge of what was to come. For the first time ever, he had another memory that was worse then that one. Now he knew that if he'd never made his deal, that Sammy would never have gone to Hell with Lucifer and he would never have suffered the way he so clearly had.
"I was thinking of going back to two thousand and three," Castiel said.
"Whoa, what? Why two thousand and three? Why not beginning nineteen eighty-three?"
"Because you were a small child then."
"Yes, exactly! I was a small child and Mom was still alive."
Compassion suddenly flooded Castiel's eyes and Dean just knew that it wouldn't be possible. That there was some reason that would prevent them from going back that far and saving his mother along with everyone else that had died in this thrice damned Apocalypse.
"A child's body would not be able to handle the strain a merging of souls would place on it," Castiel explained softly. "To even attempt it would result in your immediate death."
Shit. "Are you sure? Like really, really, really sure?"
"Yes, Dean. I'm sorry."
Dean closed his eyes as he came to grips with that little nugget of information. So much for this plan being too good to be true. He'd just known that there had to be a few catches somewhere, though it would have been nice to be proven wrong for once. He snorted as he remembered being called a pessimist by one of his high school teachers. A realist was more like it.
"So two thousand and three me is the most likely to be able to cope with this soul merging thingy?" Dean finally asked, shoving everything else aside.
"A few years younger might be better, but then you are with both your father and your brother and I do not believe that would be advisable," Castiel replied. "By two thousand and three, you are hunting on your own and there will be no one to notice any difference in behavior and become suspicious or to question your actions."
"Good points," Dean said, mentally kicking himself for not having thought of them.
He could only imagine how quickly his father would catch onto the fact that something wasn't right if he was around. Dean knew that when it came to the supernatural, his father was like a bloodhound, both in his ability to detect traces of it and his relentlessness in pursuing it. Chances were if Dad were to catch onto the fact that something had happened to him, he wouldn't even have the time to try and explain it before the old man attempted an exorcism or worse. God only knew how that particular fiasco would end as John Winchester was no more likely to believe in angels then he'd originally been and he'd been dragged from Hell by one!
He'd still need to be exceptionally careful as his father could still figure out that something wasn't right over the phone, but if he was careful then Dean thought that he could pull it off. Besides, having all of that time alone, away from both his brother and father, would allow him plenty of opportunities to do what he needed to even as he dealt with the hunts his father would send his way. After all, since he already knew what was behind all of them and where the creatures would be, it would be a simple matter to just swing by and gank them even as he focused on his other tasks.
The fact that he was already seriously considering this option made Dean freeze in his mental tracks. He knew he could be reckless at times, leaping into the fray without fully considering all of his options or the potential consequences of his actions, but this was a bit much even for him. They were talking about going back in time and altering the very course of history here and while that might have seemed absolutely terrific the first time Castiel had sent him back in time, now it terrified him. Perhaps it was because this time he actually had to make a conscious decision about the whole thing instead of just running with what he'd been given.
"What are our odds here, Cas?"
"I do not know."
"Not a good answer."
"Would you like me to lie to you, Dean?" Castiel questioned. "I have never attempted something like this before as I did not even know it was possible until a few months ago. The question is, do you want to take the risk or start running?"
Sonovabitch! When Castiel put it like that Dean didn't really feel like he had any options here.
"Dean? Castiel?"
The sound of their names being called snapped Dean out of his thoughts and he turned to look at Bobby. For a moment he did so almost blankly, most of his mind actually still on his conversation with Castiel and all of the implications thereof. If he did this, it could alter everything for the better, or it could result in his death. Although, if Raphael wanted him as badly as Cas seemed to think he did, then it probably wouldn't even really be a permanent thing, for him at least. It wasn't like he hadn't been brought back to life by angels before.
So the question was, was this worth it? Was it worth the risk of getting killed and then resurrected by Raphael?
Damn right it was.
Something of his thoughts must have shown on his face because as Dean finally focused on Bobby, he saw horrified realization dawn. He hated knowing that it was his fault and that he couldn't even take the time to explain what he intended to do to the man who'd become a second father to him, but they'd wasted enough time already. Time they most likely didn't even have in the first place. Silently he apologized to Bobby as he turned to face Castiel once more.
"Do it."
/
Dean's words sent another thrill of horror through Bobby and he cried out, rushing forwards even as Castiel raised a hand to the younger man's face. Though he knew that he'd never make it in time to prevent whatever harebrained and foolish idea Dean had just consented to, he couldn't help but try. The alternative was just to stand there and watch as the boy he'd come to see as a son probably sacrificed himself for his brother once more.
Why couldn't Dean just learn that he was every bit as important as Sam? That his little brother wouldn't want to be saved if it was at the expense of his brother? Bobby wished desperately that he could understand that side of Dean better, if only so he could learn how to knock some sense into him, but he feared it was already too late. He'd only covered half the distance to the two when, with a burst of light, something so bright and dazzling as to be almost unbearable seemed to escape from Dean's meatsuit to be cradled in Castiel's hands.
It was the awed and reverent look on the angel's face that made Bobby realize that this was Dean's soul. It was infinitely brighter then what he'd seen Death push back into Sam's body and it dazzled in a way the younger brother's soul hadn't, but he knew he wasn't mistaken and it caused flat-out terror to engulf him.
"No! Put it back!" Bobby shouted. "Castiel!"
His cries went unheeded though as the angel didn't even glance at him before he vanished with his precious burden.
With a broken sob, Bobby crashed to his knees beside Dean's body in the snow, needing to force himself to reach out to the boy's neck. As he'd feared, all that was left was a lifeless meatsuit, vacated by the essential essence that was Dean.
A.N.: Although I will not be able to update this fic as regularly as I do Unexpected Destinies, I will try and stick to a frequent schedule. The parts of this fic should be longer then those of the other, though, so I hope that makes up for the longer wait between updates.
I'd not intended to start this now, but the further towards the middle of season 6 we got, the more I was afraid that the absolute despair of the situation would peak and I really wanted to do this before that happened. Hence the reason I was both pleased and disappointed with 6.11, it gave us hope but there was still enough room for me to make it even more of a low then before.
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including 6.11, AU from there
Warnings: AU, slash
Word Count: 6,039
Summary: After everything they have fought so long and hard for has fallen apart, Castiel suggests a radical and absolutely forbidden plan.
Dean ignored the snow as it fell faster and faster around him, taking a good long swig of his whiskey bottle instead. He'd given up on the glass a long time ago, well before he'd left the house in fact. Part of him knew that he wasn't dressed for the weather and that he'd likely catch a cold if he stayed out here any longer- if he hadn't already- but the rest of him just didn't care.
It hadn't worked, the wall that Death had put up around Sammy's memories of Hell hadn't held. Well, either that or his idiot of a brother hadn't been able to resist scratching at it and it had collapsed under the strain. Dean wasn't quite sure which of the two options it was, but he didn't really care. All he cared about was that at first it had appeared to work, Sammy had been back, his real brother and not that soulless atrocity he'd been forced to deal with since leaving Lisa's.
It had seemed like a miracle, a veritable dream come true and something which Dean, if he was being honest with himself, hadn't ever expected to see realized. That right there should have been his first clue of what was to come, after all how often did good things happen to them? He could count the number of instances on one hand. Things that looked good at first only to show their ugly underbelly later, however, now those were far too common to count. Like he'd told Castiel the first time he'd met him, in his experience good things just didn't happen to him.
So how had he allowed himself to believe that it would now? Dean wasn't quite sure, but figured it probably had a lot to do with the fact that he'd needed it to be true so desperately this time. He'd literally been at his wit's end and all alone. Castiel was off in Heaven fighting a Holy War with Raphael and had little or no time for him. Bobby was obviously busy with all kinds of other stuff as he'd told him in no uncertain terms not too long ago. Lisa had made it more then clear that things between them were over as far as she was concerned. And as for Sam, well his brother just hadn't been there anymore before the apparent miracle and instead all he'd had was a look-alike he couldn't trust as far as he could throw him. All in all, he'd believed simply because he couldn't not believe. Besides, for a short while there, it really had looked like things were looking up. Sam had seemed like his old self again, albeit a very confused and disoriented self, but his little brother nonetheless.
Then the memories of what his soulless self had done had started to creep in and it had all gone downhill from there. First had come the horror and disbelief, then the guilt and apologies, until finally it seemed like the wall had just collapsed or been broken and Hell in all its glory had come crashing back over Sam until all that was left was a whimpering, broken shell of a human being.
Dean chugged half of what remained in the bottle in one go, desperately trying to block out the memories of his brother's screams as the memories had come flooding back to him. He'd done that to people, whatever it was that Sammy had been subjected to, was something he'd done to countless souls who'd had the misfortune of ending up on his rack in Hell.
The thought alone was enough to make Dean finish off the bottle. Why Sam? Why had this happened to his little brother? Of the two of them, he was the one who'd done more to deserve going to Hell, not Sammy who'd never intentionally done anything wrong. Yes, he'd been stupid at times, trusting a demon, a creature he of all people should have known to be untrustworthy, but that and everything else he'd done had been with the best of intentions. He himself, on the other hand, had no such excuse. He'd climbed down off of Alastair's rack with the express purpose of torturing people just so that he himself would no longer be tortured. He'd done it for purely selfish reasons and there was no getting around that fact.
The desire for more whiskey with which to drink himself into oblivion warred with his need to stay out of the house; to stay as far away from the shattered shell of his baby brother as possible. His internal debate was abruptly cut off as Castiel appeared before him in a flutter of wings.
"Shit! Damnit!" Dean cursed, jumping back in shock and stumbling as his hip clipped one of the old junkers, sending pain flaring up his side.
"You're drunk," Castiel stated in disapproval.
"No shit, Sherlock."
Although Dean had not yet had enough alcohol to have reached the state he wanted to be in, he'd definitely had far too much to have even a hope of evading the two fingers that reached for his forehead, though he definitely tried. The next instant he was one hundred percent, stone cold sober. Just like that, several hours worth of effort and countless units of alcohol were gone and the crushing weight of reality came crashing back down on him once more. If he'd thought things had seemed bad even ten minutes ago, they was nothing compared to what it was like now.
"What the hell?" Dean demanded, furious, as he stepped forward right into the angel's face. "Why'd you go and do that for?"
"You were drunk," Castiel replied simply.
"Yes, exactly! Do you know how hard I worked to get like that? How much I wanted to be like that?"
"No, Dean, I-"
"You had no right, Cas, no right whatsoever!"
"I need you sober for this discussion."
Dean blinked and stepped back at that, some of his anger fading as he realized that there was actually a reason behind Castiel's actions other then disapproval over his excesses. Now that he was thinking more clearly, he noticed how disheveled and bad the angel's appearance was, even for him. His clothing was torn and bloodied, not to mention dirty, and his hair was even more in disarray then normal. It looked like Castiel had been on the losing side of a fight and he felt his heart sink in horror and dread.
"Shit, Cas, don't tell me that Raphael kicked your ass."
The angel's shoulders went stiff, indignation and pride visible for a moment before they slumped forwards and defeat entered Castiel's eyes. Dean knew what the answer was even before it was verbalized.
"Yes, he managed to find one of the missing weapons and used it to kill a large number of the angels with me after luring us into a trap. Many of those that survived have surrendered, not believing that we can win this war anymore."
"How'd you manage to get away?"
"Raphael underestimated my desire to keep you safe."
"Huh?"
"He was taunting me, saying what he'd do after he killed me and before seeing to it that the Apocalypse was restarted. He threatened to come torture you himself until you begged to say yes to Michael."
Dean shuddered at the words, remembering the archangel's threats from their previous meeting only all too well. Although the angels had already made it clear that they were no Alastair, he had no doubt that Raphael could make things very painful for him indeed.
"Well, I'm sorry you lost so many of your brothers and sisters, but I'm glad you got away alive," Dean finally replied.
"You do not understand. Now that Raphael is in charge of Heaven, he will have you hunted down, Dean. Even the sigils I carved into your ribs won't be worth much with all of the angels looking for you, especially not here at Bobby's whom they know you visit."
"Whoa, slow down, why's he so interested in me anyway? Yeah, I helped you trap him before, but surely he's got bigger fish to fry, like, oh, say getting his dickwad brothers out of the cage."
"I have told you before, Raphael is a traditionalist and as such he is determined for things to play themselves out as he thinks that they should."
"Which means I have to be Michael's vessel instead of Adam."
"Yes, precisely."
"Shit."
"We don't have much time, Dean. Raphael is consolidating his power just now, but then he'll start looking for you."
"Yeah, well, what do you want me to do, Cas? I can't just up and leave here, not with Sam the way he is. He's a wreck!"
"I need your permission."
The words and Castiel's tone stopped Dean dead in his tracks. This wasn't something simple they were talking about, this was something serious, deadly serious from the sounds of it. And yet there was only one thing he knew of for which angels needed consent and that just didn't make any sense whatsoever.
"I thought being a vessel was something quite specific, that there were different bloodlines and all. From what Michael said, I didn't think one could just accept any angel."
This time it was Castiel's turn to look confused, his head tilting to the side, before understanding dawned. "You think I am asking you to become my vessel?"
"You're asking for permission," Dean shrugged.
"No, that's not possible, you could only hold Michael," Castiel paused. "Would you have said yes?"
The mere fact that part of him would have scared Dean shitless, but not so much as the thought of losing the angel entirely did. As infrequent as his visits were and as strained as their relationship had become, Castiel was still practically all he had left outside of Bobby. The thought of losing him, especially now that he had such real proof of why the angel had been so worried about losing the civil war, scared him even more on a level he didn't want to inspect too closely.
"If not that, then what?" Dean demanded instead.
For a moment it looked like Castiel was going to pursue the matter before he dropped it. "I want to try something. I don't exactly require your permission for it like Michael does, but since it will in all probability result in both our deaths, I thought it prudent to ask."
"Ah, I see, thanks for that. So what harebrained idea do you have now?"
"Something that is absolutely forbidden," Castiel stated. "Something for which the penalty is death should any angel be caught attempting it."
Dean felt a swell of pride rise within him at those first few words. It was the first positive emotion he'd felt in far too long and he pounced on it, greedily using it to push the darkness away a little. Castiel really had come a long way from the stiff, obedient soldier he'd been that first time they'd met in the barn three and a half years ago. He only wished it had worked out better for his friend.
"Not like Raphael isn't planning to do that to you anyway," Dean pointed out.
"Yes."
"So what is this thing?"
"I want to go back and alter history."
Dean frowned. "I thought you said the past couldn't be changed, that destiny is fixed and all that crap."
"On the whole it is and that is definitely what they want everyone to believe, even most of the angels. Now with time travel that is the case, you can alter the details but not the whole, not without creating a paradox that would tear apart the very fabric of reality."
"Yeah, yeah, I got this part from Sam already after I told him about you sending me back to see Mom and Dad. So, what's this plan of yours if you can't alter the past via time travel?"
"It's something I discovered while in charge of Heaven. It was in a very old book that we aren't supposed to look at, but which I read nonetheless."
Dean couldn't help but smile as another wave of pride rose within him. "Cas, you rebel."
"It spoke of a way to take a soul back in time like with time travel, but of doing so without the body."
"Like when someone's dead?"
"Yes."
"Wouldn't it be kinda hard for that person to do anything, without a body and all?"
"If left like that you, the soul, would essentially be dead," Castiel agreed. "But what this book talked about was a way to merge that soul with its earlier counterpart. Basically to rehouse it in its own body, but just the body of the past, so that it became itself."
"Wait, wouldn't that mean there were two souls in one body?"
"No, they would be fused into one. You would still be the you of whatever time we picked, but with all of your memories from now fully intact."
Dean almost preferred it when Castiel had been talking in the abstract rather then with a 'you'. Oh, he'd been in no doubt of who they'd been talking about, but that extra level in between had been surprisingly comforting.
"And that would let me to change the past without creating a paradox?"
"Yes, as only your soul would have traversed time and not your body. It is how you are able to remember being in Heaven and Hell despite the fact that your body was never there or that only a fraction of the time you spent there occurred here."
"What about you?"
"I'm an angel, the same rules don't apply."
"But you're in a vessel."
"Jimmy is no longer with us, hasn't been since Raphael smote me."
"Oh."
It was a lot to take in all at once and Dean didn't quite know where to start. He was all too aware that their time was running out, but this almost seemed far too good to be true. After all that had happened so recently with Death and Sammy's soul, he was loathe to accept anything else good at face value again. The thing was, though, Castiel had already made it clear that there were risks involved here as well and that moved the whole thing onto slightly safer ground as far as he was concerned. Yes, there had been risks with Death's plans too, but there they had been hidden and the whole thing had started off so well. Here that didn't seem to be the case. If this went wrong, he'd know that right away as he'd be in Hell again instead of some time in the past.
"So you're willing to try this despite the fact that you were ordered never to do it?" Dean asked.
Castiel shrugged. "I have found that I have little respect left for those rules seeing how my brothers and sisters flaunt them to no effect in their selfish quest to attain Paradise. If they can do so for that, then why shouldn't we do the same in order to save the world?"
Dean just couldn't help but feel uneasy about the whole suggestion. This was so far beyond his pay grade or anything they'd ever contemplated before as to be mind-boggling in and of itself. Well that and there was the fact that he now had a little voice whispering newly discovered warnings at the back of his head.
"Won't that have some kind of horrific consequences, though?" Dean inquired. "Some kind of ripple effect for upsetting the natural order of things?"
"How do you know about that?" Castiel questioned sharply.
"Tessa and Death told me about it after taking me for a little tour of the business. Let me tell you tha-"
The rest of what Dean was going to say was lost as his breath left him in a rush when Castiel grabbed him and pushed him up against the junker he'd been standing beside.
"You spoke with Death, the Horseman?" Castiel demanded darkly.
The angel tilted his head, blue gaze piercing him as if looking into his very soul, something not altogether impossible given who Dean was dealing with here, although recent events would seem to indicate otherwise. If Castiel hadn't been able to tell that Sam didn't have a soul- and indeed had been forced to reach into his brother to determine that- then how could the angel possibly be looking into him, no matter how much it seemed like he was able to do so?
"Yes."
"You spent quite a while with Death."
"I saw him several times. I wasn't expecting to as I'd failed the task he set me during our initial meeting, but he showed up here of his own accord."
"No, I can detect far more of his presence on you... in you almost."
"Huh?"
"You wore his ring."
Dean didn't know how Castiel had deduced that and wasn't sure if he wanted to. The mere mention of the angel being able to detect Death's presence on him- let alone in him- was more then enough to start freaking him out, though the latter might explain Cas' realization. And wasn't that great? On top of everything else from that horrible day, the damn ring had also tainted him.
"Yeah, that was the deal we made," Dean explained though the word nearly made him choke and he flinched at Castiel's disapproving glare. "I wear the ring for a whole day without taking it off and he returns Sam's soul with a wall to block off what happened to him in Hell."
"Did you manage it?"
Although the words were spoken softly, sympathetically even, as if Castiel already knew the answer, Dean knew better then to think the angel had already forgotten what he'd said about the deal. He'd managed to avoid using that word around Bobby and Sam for precisely this very reason. It figured that he'd have to slip up in front of the angel.
"No, I fucked it up."
"Of course you did," Castiel stated and Dean's head jerked up in shock. "Dean, not only are you human, but the Righteous Man as well. There is no way that you would have been able to simply fall in line with the capricious nature of death, not when you had to be the one touching those marked to die. Your whole life you have fought to save people, there was nothing you could have done other then to fail in that endeavor. It is one of the reasons why Death is a Horseman and not a human, and why reapers exist. Their job is not something a human can handle, nor were you ever meant to."
"That would have been nice to know ahead of time."
"Would it have made a difference? Would you have refused the offer if you had known?"
"No," Dean admitted reluctantly. "But I might have done things differently if I'd known what sparing someone would have done."
"I am not so sure," Castiel said and the angel was now entirely in his personal space, hands cupping his face. "If you had been someone who could sacrifice a few for the good of the many, you would have said yes to Michael."
"That's different."
"Is it? Is there a fixed number at which the sacrifice of a few is no more acceptable?"
Dean sighed and closed his eyes as the angel had yet to release his face. His own hands came up to grasp Castiel's wrists as something occurred to him.
"So you're saying that we shouldn't do this? That we shouldn't risk upsetting the natural order of things?"
"The natural order has already been upset."
"What?"
"Things are no longer as they should be," Castiel stated. "The signs started out small but have been growing in alarming intensity the more time passes. Surely you have felt the shift in the supernatural world?"
Dean's eyes widened in realization. "You're saying all of the unusual behavior and the sudden appearance of the alphas has to do with this?"
"Yes. Normally you only have a few alphas awake at any one time and then they would be spread all over the world. Alphas often go into a dormant stage to pass time when they get bored. For all of them to be awake at once and within three thousand miles of each other is unheard of."
"Wait, why are they all here?"
"Because the center of the disturbance is here in this country and they are drawn to it. That is why I believe the Apocalypse has something to do with it as the vessels of so many of the archangels- Raphael, Gabriel, Michael and Lucifer- were also found here. Not to mention the fact that my vessel was here as well as those of Uriel and Zachariah, or that Anael was born as a human in this country."
"Okay, okay, I get it, far too many coincidences for them to really be coincidences."
"Indeed. The manner in which souls have also- what?"
Dean hadn't realized how badly he'd started at Castiel's words until just then. "Well, it's just what Death said when he told me that he was going to bring Sammy's soul back after all. He said that we were onto something with the souls and needed to keep digging. It was why he decided to do what I asked despite the fact that I failed the task he assigned me."
"That would lend further credit to my belief that this must be done, if even Death himself is willing to make an exception to the rules. That is something else that I don't think has ever happened before."
"But why?" Dean demanded. "Yeah, I get that he would want to see things rectified if the natural order of things had been disturbed, but why return Sam's soul? I mean it's not like we'd take him with us, that would defeat the whole point as far as he's concerned." It was only because Castiel was still holding his face and not allowing him to look away that Dean caught the flicker of understanding in those blue depths. "What?" he demanded, feeling his stomach drop. "What is it?"
Suddenly Castiel released his face and stepped back and it was only then that Dean realized exactly how close they'd been. The only other time his face was ever that close to someone else's was when he was going to kiss them and yet he'd not really noticed that fact until just now.
"Castiel."
Whether it was because he had used his full name or some other reason, Dean didn't know, but he didn't really care at this point.
"You have to remember that Death is a Horseman and not a human," Castiel began.
"Okay, so?"
"So he would know almost everything that there is to know about manipulating humans and emotions to attain his goal even if he is unable to experience any true emotions himself."
"Quit dithering and get to the point, Cas."
If Dean were honest with himself, he'd admit that the angel's apparent evasion of the truth was starting to make him nervous. It wasn't often that Castiel hesitated to be anything other than brutally honest and direct, so he knew that he wouldn't like what the angel had to say now.
"It would not be entirely inconceivable for Death to have brought Sam's soul back knowing that your brother would be unable to keep himself from picking at the wall holding back his memories of Hell and thus be debilitated by them."
"What?" Dean demanded. "Why would Death go to all the effort of getting Sam's soul from Lucifer's cage if that was his intention? Surely it's not worth the time it took him."
"Not unless he wished to push you to the edge and make you consider options that you would otherwise have passed over without another thought," Castiel said gravely.
The words froze Dean in place as the implications shattered him. "Cas, you think he...?"
"If he thought that this was the only manner in which to restore the natural order of things, then I am sure that he would act in whatever manner he deemed most likely to attain the desired outcome. I am sorry."
He was more then sorry, Dean could tell. Not only was there a subtle change to his voice, but the muscles around his eyes tightened slightly in a way that would have been missed by anyone who didn't know Castiel as well as he did, but he caught it. The angel was angry, no doubt furious, on his behalf and it soothed him a little even if it didn't come close to taking care of all of the hurt he felt.
"So he let this happen to Sam just so that I'd do what he wanted me to?" Dean questioned just to be sure.
"Yes."
The knowledge made Dean close his eyes as fury of his own awoke inside of him. Just the mere thought of Sammy's screams as the wall had come down was enough to haunt him forevermore and to think that the bastard had intended for it to happen was almost too much. Why hadn't Death just told him about this other way that existed? That everything was out of order and there was a way to fix it that could allow them to avert the entire Apocalypse fiasco before it even began? That he could save not only his brother, but his parents as well? Didn't Death think he'd take it?
The thought made Dean pause. Was he seriously considering doing this? Yes, he still wasn't quite sure that he believed anything good could come of this, but what were his alternatives? He could either wait here for Raphael and his angels to come or he could run, trying to stay one step ahead of the douche bags as he desperately sought for something to help Sam. Neither of those options were particularly appealing and he knew that he couldn't take on all of Heaven. Before it had been bad enough when dealing with just Lucifer and Michael, but now he was potentially talking about every last one of Castiel's remaining brothers and sisters. There was no way that he could take on that and hope to survive. Especially when death wasn't even an escape but rather just another means with which to torture him.
Yet, despite all of that, the knowledge that he was potentially playing right into Death's plan for him grated on Dean. He had never done well with being manipulated or told what to do by anyone other then his father. Hell, his natural reaction was to do the opposite of what was wanted of him. He wasn't sure, though if he could do that now. Not with Sammy the way that he was and not when there was the possibility of saving his entire family along with countless other people.
"What's the catch?" Dean demanded. "What could go wrong here?"
"You mean beyond both of us being killed in the attempt?"
"Yes."
"That we fail to alter things sufficiently to ensure a better outcome," Castiel replied, regarding him steadily. "Or that we make things worse in some manner. But there is also the chance that we succeed, Dean, and make things better. We both know how events will play themselves out and thus we know where we need to be to prevent key steps from being achieved."
"Don't really believe in good things, Cas, remember?"
"At the very least, we will be preventing you from making your deal and going to Hell. Without that, there is no easy way for the first seal to be broken, thereby potentially averting the Apocalypse."
The words made Dean flinch a little as they brought back to him the memory of Sam dying in his arms while he could do nothing and then of his meatsuit, cold and rotting on the bed of that abandoned house. He could still not think of that without pain tearing through him and yet, for the first time ever, he could think of it without knowing that he'd do what he'd done back then if he found himself back in that situation with the full knowledge of what was to come. For the first time ever, he had another memory that was worse then that one. Now he knew that if he'd never made his deal, that Sammy would never have gone to Hell with Lucifer and he would never have suffered the way he so clearly had.
"I was thinking of going back to two thousand and three," Castiel said.
"Whoa, what? Why two thousand and three? Why not beginning nineteen eighty-three?"
"Because you were a small child then."
"Yes, exactly! I was a small child and Mom was still alive."
Compassion suddenly flooded Castiel's eyes and Dean just knew that it wouldn't be possible. That there was some reason that would prevent them from going back that far and saving his mother along with everyone else that had died in this thrice damned Apocalypse.
"A child's body would not be able to handle the strain a merging of souls would place on it," Castiel explained softly. "To even attempt it would result in your immediate death."
Shit. "Are you sure? Like really, really, really sure?"
"Yes, Dean. I'm sorry."
Dean closed his eyes as he came to grips with that little nugget of information. So much for this plan being too good to be true. He'd just known that there had to be a few catches somewhere, though it would have been nice to be proven wrong for once. He snorted as he remembered being called a pessimist by one of his high school teachers. A realist was more like it.
"So two thousand and three me is the most likely to be able to cope with this soul merging thingy?" Dean finally asked, shoving everything else aside.
"A few years younger might be better, but then you are with both your father and your brother and I do not believe that would be advisable," Castiel replied. "By two thousand and three, you are hunting on your own and there will be no one to notice any difference in behavior and become suspicious or to question your actions."
"Good points," Dean said, mentally kicking himself for not having thought of them.
He could only imagine how quickly his father would catch onto the fact that something wasn't right if he was around. Dean knew that when it came to the supernatural, his father was like a bloodhound, both in his ability to detect traces of it and his relentlessness in pursuing it. Chances were if Dad were to catch onto the fact that something had happened to him, he wouldn't even have the time to try and explain it before the old man attempted an exorcism or worse. God only knew how that particular fiasco would end as John Winchester was no more likely to believe in angels then he'd originally been and he'd been dragged from Hell by one!
He'd still need to be exceptionally careful as his father could still figure out that something wasn't right over the phone, but if he was careful then Dean thought that he could pull it off. Besides, having all of that time alone, away from both his brother and father, would allow him plenty of opportunities to do what he needed to even as he dealt with the hunts his father would send his way. After all, since he already knew what was behind all of them and where the creatures would be, it would be a simple matter to just swing by and gank them even as he focused on his other tasks.
The fact that he was already seriously considering this option made Dean freeze in his mental tracks. He knew he could be reckless at times, leaping into the fray without fully considering all of his options or the potential consequences of his actions, but this was a bit much even for him. They were talking about going back in time and altering the very course of history here and while that might have seemed absolutely terrific the first time Castiel had sent him back in time, now it terrified him. Perhaps it was because this time he actually had to make a conscious decision about the whole thing instead of just running with what he'd been given.
"What are our odds here, Cas?"
"I do not know."
"Not a good answer."
"Would you like me to lie to you, Dean?" Castiel questioned. "I have never attempted something like this before as I did not even know it was possible until a few months ago. The question is, do you want to take the risk or start running?"
Sonovabitch! When Castiel put it like that Dean didn't really feel like he had any options here.
"Dean? Castiel?"
The sound of their names being called snapped Dean out of his thoughts and he turned to look at Bobby. For a moment he did so almost blankly, most of his mind actually still on his conversation with Castiel and all of the implications thereof. If he did this, it could alter everything for the better, or it could result in his death. Although, if Raphael wanted him as badly as Cas seemed to think he did, then it probably wouldn't even really be a permanent thing, for him at least. It wasn't like he hadn't been brought back to life by angels before.
So the question was, was this worth it? Was it worth the risk of getting killed and then resurrected by Raphael?
Damn right it was.
Something of his thoughts must have shown on his face because as Dean finally focused on Bobby, he saw horrified realization dawn. He hated knowing that it was his fault and that he couldn't even take the time to explain what he intended to do to the man who'd become a second father to him, but they'd wasted enough time already. Time they most likely didn't even have in the first place. Silently he apologized to Bobby as he turned to face Castiel once more.
"Do it."
/
Dean's words sent another thrill of horror through Bobby and he cried out, rushing forwards even as Castiel raised a hand to the younger man's face. Though he knew that he'd never make it in time to prevent whatever harebrained and foolish idea Dean had just consented to, he couldn't help but try. The alternative was just to stand there and watch as the boy he'd come to see as a son probably sacrificed himself for his brother once more.
Why couldn't Dean just learn that he was every bit as important as Sam? That his little brother wouldn't want to be saved if it was at the expense of his brother? Bobby wished desperately that he could understand that side of Dean better, if only so he could learn how to knock some sense into him, but he feared it was already too late. He'd only covered half the distance to the two when, with a burst of light, something so bright and dazzling as to be almost unbearable seemed to escape from Dean's meatsuit to be cradled in Castiel's hands.
It was the awed and reverent look on the angel's face that made Bobby realize that this was Dean's soul. It was infinitely brighter then what he'd seen Death push back into Sam's body and it dazzled in a way the younger brother's soul hadn't, but he knew he wasn't mistaken and it caused flat-out terror to engulf him.
"No! Put it back!" Bobby shouted. "Castiel!"
His cries went unheeded though as the angel didn't even glance at him before he vanished with his precious burden.
With a broken sob, Bobby crashed to his knees beside Dean's body in the snow, needing to force himself to reach out to the boy's neck. As he'd feared, all that was left was a lifeless meatsuit, vacated by the essential essence that was Dean.
A.N.: Although I will not be able to update this fic as regularly as I do Unexpected Destinies, I will try and stick to a frequent schedule. The parts of this fic should be longer then those of the other, though, so I hope that makes up for the longer wait between updates.
I'd not intended to start this now, but the further towards the middle of season 6 we got, the more I was afraid that the absolute despair of the situation would peak and I really wanted to do this before that happened. Hence the reason I was both pleased and disappointed with 6.11, it gave us hope but there was still enough room for me to make it even more of a low then before.