A/N: I owe you all massive apologies. I mean it - I should not have put this off. I have a million excuses, but they don't really matter. I'm here now, and I swear to you, I will not abandon this. A giant shout-out to my friend Jenna who helps me with everything and kicked my butt into gear, forcing me to update this. So, you can thank her.
I'd also like to thank cessoceanlilly, spnfan44, Kas3y, The Hope Lions, sammysmissingshoe, Armand, cammiemorris7, Charlie N. Perfuro, Sharllissa, VattaKeto, and in-silent-seas for reviewing! You guys are the best and I hope you haven't given up on me.
-Jaq
We're all going to Hell, so why bother? Dean thought, staring at the opposite wall. We're all full of lies, and nobody's coming to save us.
Sam was gone, the world was on the brink, and what was Dean doing? Hiding out in a safe camp, knowing full well that he didn't survive this. Nice one, Winchester.
A muffled rap came from the door, and Dean snapped out of his reverie. Sighing, he pushed himself up, marveling at how clean the tile floor was as he walked to the door and opened it. Cas was standing there.
"What?" Dean asked monotonously, staring at the fallen angel on the other side.
"I...well," Cas said, shifting his weight uncomfortably, "I have an idea."
"Spit it out."
Cas swallowed, and smiled halfheartedly. "There...is a possibility that we can...exorcise an angel, of sorts. You remember when Alistair did the same to me?"
Dean nodded.
"Well, Kevin was looking through his notes for anything that could be of help, and he found something like that. It's...complicated, but possible."
"So what's the catch?" Dean asked, not letting any emotion show on his face.
Cas furrowed his brow. "I never said anything about a catch."
"Well, in my experience, things like this don't just happen, especially not to me. So yeah, there's a catch. What is it?"
"The exorcism has to be spoken by a demon," Castiel said bluntly.
Dean smiled bitterly. "Well, how do you suppose we go about this? Capture Lucifer- without hurting my brother- and then find some demon and convince it to exorcise its master? Nice try, Cas. I appreciate the effort. But that's not going to work."
"Crowley."
"What? Sorry, I thought you said 'Crowley.'"
"I did. He hated Lucifer, remember?" Cas said earnestly.
"Yeah, and it's a great idea to give the King of Hell the means to exorcise angels- such as yourself, I might add. Nice," Dean responded bitterly.
"It won't work on me, Dean. I'm not an angel anymore."
Dean paused, his hand resting on the door. "Fine," he said flatly. "Go for it. Get Crowley, convince him. How are we gonna capture the devil, then?"
Castiel shrugged. "I don't know, Dean. Maybe if you'd help us instead of sitting around moping, we could think of a way."
Dean glared, but didn't respond. Cas left, and Dean shut the door.
He looked down at the floor. It was white, stark against his muddy shoes. His room- cell, he reminded himself, was bare save for a duffel and a cot on one side. Dean wasn't moping. Damn Castiel, damn Kevin, damn every God-forsaken thing on, above, and under this hellhole of a planet.
Dean clenched a fist, watching as the veins and tendons stood out. What would he be without his brother? Would he have died long ago? Would the world be better off, without the both of them?
Dean secretly thought that it would. Unfortunately, that wasn't something that he could control anymore. He had a - a responsibility to at least Castiel and Kevin, and even the damn world. Because somebody had to save it.
That somebody didn't always have to be Dean, though. He thought maybe it was time for a break. Recklessly, he yanked out his phone, clenching it in his hand and willing it to break out of the pressure.
It didn't, and Dean almost broke down. He dug his fingernail into the smooth glass screen, angry with everything. He turned the phone on.
It was on contacts, and Dean's eye caught the contact marked Sam. There were only six contacts in his phone - three of Sam, and one for Kevin and Cas. The other contact was Bobby, but Dean hadn't gotten around to deleting it. He probably never would.
Recklessly, Dean hit the call button with his thumb, bringing the phone to his ear. "Alright, you son of a bitch," he muttered, his vision blurring. He clenched his fist again, his fingernails digging into his palm.
The phone picked up on the third ring.
"Dean?" the smooth voice answered, sounding so much like Sam that Dean almost lost it.
"Alright, you son of a bitch," Dean said, grounding out the same phrase. "What do you want?"
"The world," was the immediate reply, short and smooth.
"Well, you've almost got it. But you haven't got me."
"That's true, Dean. I promised Sam that I would dismember you myself, and this time, your brother is much too weak to fight back. Besides, he hates you."
Dean closed his eyes, trying to calm down. He wouldn't let this get to him.
"He does hate you, Dean. I showed him the way you let me in. He knows that all of this is your fault. And he hates you."
Dean didn't doubt it, but he still had to save his brother. "I know," he said, his clipped tone giving him away. "Where can I meet you?"
"I don't know. Nostalgia work for you? I'll see you at Stull Cemetery, two days from now."
The call disconnected, and Dean slumped, letting the phone fall out of his hand. He couldn't go back there. He couldn't.
Well, he'd have to.
Lying on the bed, he tried to sleep, knowing full well that it wouldn't work.
-:-
As soon as the phone rang, Sam was pulled back into reality. He knew who it was from the way Lucifer smiled, and he tried as hard as he could to break out. "Dean?"
"Alright, you son of a bitch," Dean's voice growled, "what do you want?"
Don't do something stupid, don't be a reckless idiot, Dean-
"The world," Lucifer replied easily.
"Well, you've almost got it. But you haven't got me."
Sam knew Dean. He knew when his brother was desperate, and he knew that now was one of those times. It wouldn't do anything, but he implored his brother. Don't do something stupid, please, it won't help-
"That's true, Dean. I promised Sam that I would dismember you myself, and this time, your brother is much too weak to fight back. Besides, he hates you," Lucifer responded, tugging Sam's mouth into a grotesque smile.
"He does hate you, Dean. I showed him the way you let me in. He knows that all of this is your fault. And he hates you."
It wasn't true. Sam had thought he hated Dean, but he still didn't want his brother to die. Their father had described that to them once.
-:-
"I hate her," Dean growled, rolling his eyes at the English paper sitting on the motel counter. A large F was written prominently at the top, in red marker.
Their father was in one of his better moods, sitting on the sofa and looking over a case. "Don't," he said to Dean, looking up.
"Don't what? Hate the stupid bitch for failing me?"
"Hate's only for things that deserve to die, Dean. You too, Sam," John had said, and that was that. Hate was for things that deserved to die.
-:-
It was a stupid saying, and they didn't follow it at all, but it was the first thing that came to mind.
"I know," Dean replied, and Sam struggled, trying to do anything, even move his damn pinky finger. "Where can I meet you?"
No. Sam pushed wildly, but it was suffocation at its finest, and the harder he struggled the more difficult it became to struggle at all.
"I don't know. Nostalgia work for you? I'll see you at Stull Cemetery, two days from now," Lucifer replied, and Sam felt himself sinking deeper. He couldn't. Not there. Not where he would be crushed under memories, flashbacks - Dean couldn't die there (and Dean would be killed, Sam was sure of it).
Lucifer disconnected the call and put Sam's phone back in his pocket. "Well, Sammy," the devil said, facing the setting sun, "just two more days. And then, forever."
A/N 2: Another note: We're really close to 100 reviews! You know what would be a fabulous kick in the pants for me to update this sorry story faster? Reviewing. So...do that? I love to hear your comments. Thank you all so, so much for sticking with me, I know I'm annoying. Have a great day, okay?
-Jaq