They were out of options.

Not, 'Well, we'll have to try this, cause it's our best hope,' kind of out of options. But, 'screwed the pooch, goat is fucked, life really couldn't suck any harder' out of options. After all the struggle and pain, the sacrifices everyone had made - after good people had given their lives so they could defeat Lucifer before he torched the world - the Winchesters were in Detroit. And, Sam was going to say 'yes.'

And the worst thing, the really 'WTF' moment of the whole thing? Sam was saying 'yes' as part of the plan.

So, Dean had to keep telling himself: We are out of options. This is the only way. It was becoming a regular mantra with him. Because how else could he stomach the coming nightmare? He would have railed. He was a champion railer. But, there was no one to rail against. Michael had been heard from and was looking for Dean. Lucifer was poised to unleash some kind of anthrax type curse, and the time for wandering around looking for solutions was over.

About a week ago, Castiel had joined with two other renegade angels, Myrah and Thomas. They'd put their heads together and come up with a plan. They would create and ritualize an angel-killing blade, get close enough to use it on Lucifer. It would either a) kill him out right or b) send him back to hell. And while the exact outcome was uncertain, they were sure it would banish him from the earth. So, that was good.

There were two main problems with this excellent plan. One, apparently Lucifer had to be wearing Sam at the time of the stabbing. And two, Dean was the one who actually had to do the killing. So, yeah, Worst. Plan. Ever.

We are out of options.

When Castiel had explained what was coming, Sam had nodded, gotten up and left. He'd been gone about an hour. When he'd come back, he'd been subdued, but steady. Dean had asked him what he was thinking. "People are dying around the world and this is the only way to stop it. Stop him. I'm in." So, how could Dean do anything less? He had wanted to bitch and moan, come up with something else, but they'd been at this for almost a year and nothing else had even come close to working.

We are out of options.

But, why did it have to be Dean that did the thing? Castiel said he was certain using Michael's vessel would fulfill prophesy and make the kill 'legitimate.'

Myrah was the angel who was 'training' Sam. She was using a very tall, dark-skinned woman as her vessel. She had a gentle demeanor for an angel, and seemed to get that this was a hard thing to ask of a human. She was teaching Sam how to accept possession of an angel, but retain control of his body for as long as he could. Apparently, the first few minutes an angel took a new vessel were discombobulating. It would be their best chance to get the drop on Lucifer, in those moments right after he entered Sam. Yesterday, she had asked permission to enter his body, just to let him 'get a feel' for what angel possession would be like. Dean had left the room. It was all getting a little too close.

Sam had talked to him about it later, tried to explain feeling himself there one minute, and fading the next. But, Sam was pretty sure he could keep enough of himself present, hold Lucifer immobile for the crucial minute they needed. It would have to be enough. And, while Sam actually seemed relieved that the plan was going to work, his stoic courage made Dean kind of hate him a little. Sam seemed to be welcoming the chance to fall on his sword. And Dean, well, the whole thing made him want to throw up.

It was all he could do to not just hit Sam over the head, throw him in the Impala and drive to Mexico. Let the world explode, if it would save his brother's life. But, he didn't do that.

Because, hard as it was, Dean knew this was their last, best hope of really ending Lucifer.

So, they were here in Detroit, in an abandoned storage shed adjacent to some closed-down tire factory. Lucifer was, at this very moment, just up the hill, conducting some kind of ritual to create his anthrax-like curse. The time to execute this sucktastic plan was here. Sam, Dean, Myrah, Thomas and Castiel had gathered one last time to make sure everyone knew their part. In his dry, methodical, way, Castiel had held up the knife. "When Sam accepts Lucifer, we have to act within the first minutes. Dean, you must strike directly through the heart after I've sanctified the weapon. It will take a few seconds to say the proper words, and then you ---"

Dean had stopped him. Glanced at Sam. Sam had returned his stare, nodded slightly. "Yeah, I get it."

They'd gone over everything a bunch of times, and everyone knew his or her role. But, here, now, with this thing really staring them in the face, Dean's instincts were humming in defiance. He was leaning his shoulder against the frame of the dusty window that looked out on the hill where Sam would do this thing. How am I going to get through this?

Castiel nodded, looked between the brothers. "We will give you some minutes to yourselves. Sam, when you come out, it's time."

Sam nodded. "Okay."

The three angels departed. Sam and Dean looked at each other a long moment.

Dean's stomach clenched and he turned to look out the dirty glass. Too soon, damn it. I'm not ready…

Sam came over to him, leaned on the other side of the window. "Well, I guess this is it, huh?"

Dean nodded. Couldn't get any words past the huge constriction in his chest. He cleared his throat. "You don't have to do this, you know. I won't think less of you ---"

Sam let out a short laugh. "Yes, you will. It's decided, Dean. Just…it's all right."

Dean shook his head. "Oh, Sammy. Nothing about this is all right."

And Dean tried not to let this whole goddamned overwhelmingly depressing situation come crashing down on him. There would be plenty of time to fall apart later. Right now? He needed to be sharp. He couldn't be the big brother who would rather die again, than cause one more moment of pain to his battered, weary brother. No, he had to be Dean the Leader. Because the strategist in him, the guy who was trying to stop a genocide, that guy knew this was their best hope.

Because the world would be saved, or, you know, as saved as it was before they'd let Lucifer out of hell. And everyone could go back to their lives.

Everyone except for Dean, who'd be the guy who willingly cut up his brother's heart. What the hell was he supposed to do with the rest of his sorry-ass life? Was he supposed to just drive around saving people from ghosts and Wendigos, whistle a happy tune while he tried to sleep without the image of Sam's blood all over his hands?

Dean watched the dark clouds as they moved across the grey sky outside. "So, we're going to do this thing…I'm trying really hard to accept that. But, you know, after you…" He felt his throat clog again. "What happens to me, Sammy?"

Sam looked slightly confused. "What do you mean, what happens to you? You live. You go on."

Dean nodded, turned back to Sam. "Yeah. Yeah, that sounds awesome, Sam. I'll just go on, get a nice house, maybe, find a woman, have some kids? Just, get over it? Is that it?"

Sam looked down, shook his head. "This is the only way, Dean."

"Yeah. I know. But, I can't picture my life after today, you know? I don't know what to do without you sitting there, bitching about my music and nagging me to eat better." He tried to smile. "I don't quite know who I am without you there with me."

Sam's mouth trembled, just the once. "You'll find a way, Dean. I know you will. You have an amazing ability to keep going, no matter what's thrown at you." He tried to return the smile. "I think you're actually the most optimistic pessimist I know."

Dean nodded. "Yeah. That's me. Dean Winchester, he takes a licking, but keeps on ticking…"

Sam turned more fully toward him. Put his hand on Dean's shoulder. "This isn't going to hurt me, Dean. You know that, right? I don't want you to worry about…This is going to save me. This is going to save everyone. You can see that, right? Past all the other stuff, you can see that this will save the world?"

And Dean felt a wave of bitterness rise within in him. "Everyone but you!" He stepped away from Sam, started pacing, the agitation of what was about to happen coursing through him. "I save everyone but you. But, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, 'Sam Winchester finally gets to make his big, grand gesture – sacrifice himself to save the world. Demon-boy finally gets to play the hero,' right? Well, I'm sorry if I don't jump up and down and throw a parade! I'd rather have you here, unredeemed and un-martyred, than cut up, out there, gone for good. If that makes me a selfish, terrible person…well, sue me."

Sam blew out a breath. His voice stayed steady, quiet. "You're right. I would like a chance to make things right, fix what I screwed up. And, I'm sorry that it has to bleed out onto you, just like every mistake I've ever made has had to bleed on to you. But, right now, this isn't about that. This is about seeing what needs to be done and doing it. Dad taught me that. You taught me that. I may be the screwed up Winchester, but I'm still a Winchester. Don't ask me to be less than you, or dad, or mom, even. I know I made a lot of mistakes, but I'm still part of this family."

Dean made an effort to rein himself in. He was in full-on freak out mode, and that wasn't going to help anyone or change one damn thing that was about to happen. "Sam, that has never been…there hasn't been a day, well, okay, maybe one or two days, but…" He sucked in a deep breath, reached for calm. "I have always been glad that you're my brother. Don't…That's not…" He felt his knees getting wobbly, sank onto a rickety chair. "Sam, I know it has to be done, I do. But, to actually go out there and do this…it's goes against everything I…it's just, it's not going to be easy, man."

Sam watched him, nodded. "I know. I'm sorry for that. But, you're not wrong, about what I'm thinking." And for the first time since this nightmare of a plan was presented, Dean saw Sam's stoic resolve giving way. His voice broke while he fought for composure. "I am a 'demon-boy.' I've lived up to that. I let Lucifer out of hell. That pretty much makes me a mass murderer. If there's anyone whose heart ought to be cut up, it's me. I mean, come on. My life is…I'm never going to have normal. I'm never going to have a wife, or a family of my own –" and his breath hitched before he could stop it. He gathered himself, straightened his spine. "I'm never going to have a life separate from everything I've done." He went over to Dean, crouched down next to him, put his hand on Dean's knee. "But, you can. That's nothing to feel guilty about. I want that for you. Please. Have a goddamned life. That would mean the world to me." His eyes filled, but he took in a slow breath and no tears fell. He gave a weak smile. "Do that for me, okay?" He sniffed and waved his hand, "This thing, today? It'll be over quick. I won't feel it. Hopefully, it will end the damn Apocalypse. That's okay with me. And, despite what it's going to cost you, I know that's okay with you, too."

They sat there in this suspended moment, staring at each other. And, Dean knew this was really it. Sam would die today, at his hand, to slay Lucifer. This was the last time they would be in a room together. The last time they would look at each other and know exactly what the other was thinking. The last time he would feel connected to anyone on this whole sorry planet. He set his shoulders, found a smile, because he knew it would comfort Sam. He tried to speak, but had to clear his throat a few times before he could get the words out. "Well, it's been a long and crazy trip, Sammy."

And Sam found an answering smile. "Understatement."

Dean took in a breath. "I'm glad I had you at my side, man."

Sam nodded, looked him in the eye. "Yeah. My whole life, you looked out for me, took care of me. When anyone else would have run for the hills or reached for a gun, you stuck. Thanks for that."

Dean shouldered away some tears. "I guess we have to do this thing, huh?"

Sam sucked in a long breath, wiped at his eyes, as well. "I guess we do."

They both stood up. They were done with the words and the tears, just like that, and focused on the job. In sync even on this one last thing.

They walked to the door, and Sam turned toward Dean. "Just, you know, don't miss."

Dean rolled his eyes, opened the door.

As Dean walked through, Sam spoke quietly from behind him. "I love you, Dean."

Dean felt his heart constrict, but kept walking. Eyes forward, he turned his head partway toward Sam. "Love you, too, bitch."

* * * * *

They rejoined the others at the foot of the hill. There was an actual dark cloud that obscured the top of the hill. Castiel looked over both of them, saw whatever he needed to see, and said, "It is time."

Sam nodded. He squared his shoulders, looked at the little group beside him. "Are you guys ready?"

The angels nodded. Castiel just started walking. Sam shook his head, turned to Dean. "He's not the sentimental sort, huh?" Gusted out a sigh. "Guess this is it."

Dean could feel his heart starting to pitch and stutter in his chest. "We'll take care of you, Sammy."

Sam nodded. "I know you will. Just, come in quick and hard, okay? I don't want that bastard in me for more than five seconds."

Dean nodded. Couldn't get any words out.

Sam sighed. "Okay." Dean could see Sam was trembling. But, he turned and started to follow Castiel. Dean snagged his arm, pulled him around and grabbed him up in a hug. Sam seemed relieved that he'd done it and just wrapped his arms around Dean for a long moment. His whole body was shaking. Finally, he pushed back, gave a quick kiss to the side of Dean's head, and turned to jog up the hill.

Don't think about it…don't think about it. Dean turned to the two angels. "Let's get in place." He took the knife out of his inside pocket and started up the far side of the hill.

* * * * *

Sam stood before Lucifer and tried to settle his mind. This is okay. It's going to finally put this bastard down. Just remember everything the angels have taught you. Don't freak out when Lucifer comes in, remember your job…steady…

And, then, Lucifer turned and saw him. He smiled warmly. "Sam, you're here."

Sam noticed the peeling flesh on the fallen angel's face. His hands were covered in blisters and darkened skin. His upper lip was almost gone, as was most of his hair. Sam cleared his throat. "Wow. You really look like shit."

Lucifer shrugged and walked toward him. "The heart is willing, but the flesh is weak." When he was standing no more than ten feet away, he stopped. "Tell me why you're here, Sam."

Sam clenched his jaw. Trust Castiel and Dean to get this right. "You know why."

Lucifer raised his eyebrow and looked skeptical. "Come on, really? After all your 'that'll never happen,' and 'I'll kill myself first,' talk, you're here to let me in? It seems far-fetched."

Sam steadied his breathing. "At least this way, I'll live."

And Lucifer laughed at that. "Will you? Through me, you mean? Aw, Sam, that is so sweet. But, I think you know better than that. I think you know that Sam Winchester will cease to exist when I take up residence. So, why are you really here? Do you think you can trick me, somehow? Because, I assure you, you can't. When you say 'yes' there is no taking it back." He narrowed his gaze, tried to get a better read on Sam. "Tell me what you really want."

Sam looked at Lucifer, knew he would hear a lie if that's all Sam could come up with. So, he went with the truth. Willed it into his voice, his body, his mind. "I want it to be over." All the guilt, all the death and misery my stupidity has brought... "I really just want it to be over."

And Lucifer's smarmy smile disappeared. He stepped closer. "You really mean that."

Sam nodded. "Yes."

Lucifer's eyes took on a predatory gleam, and he came another step closer. "Is that your final answer?"

Sam tried to stay calm, though he felt his whole body revolt at the question. Please get this right, Dean. "Yes."

And then, Lucifer was right in front of him, almost touching chests. "Samuel Winchester, do you freely agree to become my vessel?"

Sam looked into the evil, dead eyes. It was almost as if he could feel a black residue of destruction seeping from the fallen angel's soul. His knees were shaking, and his hands were trembling. But, he looked Lucifer straight in the eye, trusting in his brother and their small band of renegades. "Yes."

* * * * *

There was a huge flash of light from where Lucifer and Sam had just been standing. This is it. Dean yelled, "Go! Go! Go!"

Castiel suddenly appeared in front of a radiant Sam-housed Lucifer. Lucifer's eyes widened and he smirked, "Well, that's bold, brother." He gave a cold smile. "But, not too bright." His face lost some of its confident smirk when he tried to use his powers and couldn't. Dean came running up with Myrah and Thomas. Lucifer was staring at his hands, which were not moving. That's it, Sam. Hold that bastard…

Castiel said some words Dean didn't understand, Myrah and Thomas joined in the last part. Then Dean was there, right in front of Sam, in front of Lucifer. He saw the confusion and fury in the hazel eyes that had been so familiar. And, his mind settled. He could do this because there was nothing of Sam in that cold, evil bastard's eyes. Be free, Sammy. And he raised the knife, aimed for the heart.

And felt his arm grabbed, his motion suspended. NO! No, no, no.

He pushed with everything he had against whatever was holding his arm.

'Be still, my child.'A voice, unlike anything Dean had ever heard before. It came from above? Beside? Inside? He couldn't tell where it was coming from, but it was a melodious, deep and authoritative voice. He couldn't have said if it were male or female. It was just…everywhere. Castiel gasped beside him, and Myrah and Thomas dropped to their knees.

Dean was still staring at Sam – Lucifer. He couldn't move his arm and he didn't know how long Sam could hold him still. Dean let out a quiet, "Please…"

Castiel's hand landed on his shoulder, and Dean glanced at him. Tears were coming down the angel's face. Dean just stared at him. What the hell is going on? Why is he just standing there!? Castiel didn't take his eyes off the sky, but held up Dean's amulet. It was glowing white.

Lucifer, locked in Sam's body, raised his eyes, as well. His face showed disbelief. Fear. "No…no, it can't be. You're gone. You don't care about them anymore! Father?"

And the voice came again, felt like it was closer, though still impossible to pinpoint. "You are wrong. Again, and still, you are wrong, Lucifer." And, as something passed through the air, Lucifer-Sam dropped to the ground, eyes closed and unmoving.

Dean looked around, tried to see anything that would tell him what he was dealing with. Was this God? Had to be. And, he should have felt awed. He should have felt humbled and small and grateful. But, instead, the only thing Dean felt was pissed. "Really?! You show now?! 30 seconds after my brother gives up his life, you show up to save the day? What the fuck kind of rescue is that?!"

Castiel looked over with true anger on his face. "Dean. Stop. You don't know the Father's power."

Dean's arm was finally his own again. He gestured with the knife. "Oh, I know! I know this bastard's been AWOL through this whole angel/demon smackdown and left his job up to us. I know that my brother is gone and for what! Just needed a vacation from this messy human shit? It was cool to just leave and let everything to go to hell – literally?"

Castiel's eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head. He opened his mouth, probably to tell Dean to shut up. But, the voice came again, seemed to come from right in front of them. "You may always speak freely to me. You are not wrong. I was disheartened by this world. Of their own choice, my children, my creation, ignored my teachings, my warnings, on how to love one another with devotion. It was painful to watch them fighting, killing, using my name to justify their murdering of one another. As if I hadn't told them clearly never to kill at all." There was both strength and sadness coloring the words that came from all around, but right in front of him, too. "There were no more righteous beings, it seemed. This world had no use for me. Nor, I for it. And then, something happened. Castiel broke with his home, his brethren. I knew him to be the most loyal of my children. When I felt this happen, it caused me to look again at this world I had created but given up on.

I began watching."

Dean didn't know why, but the voice seemed to be growing warmer, becoming something almost tangible as it resounded across the hilltop. His heart had grown calm as the words poured out around them. He had a strong urge to go sit with Sam, to not be alone while this was happening. He went over to Sam's body and dropped to the ground next to him. Dean's hand went to cover Sam's heart, he couldn't tell if it was beating.

Deep and rich, the voice reverberated. "When Lucifer escaped his confinement, I waited to see what mankind would do. Would they seek me out again? With something so evil unleashed, would they recognize their need for me? A few did. Most didn't even think of it. I was ready to flee again, but for some unexpected things. Castiel's dogged faith that I was not lost, that I would return. Then, your brother, Samuel, struggling so hard to fight evil's power over him. He kept his faith amidst tremendous darkness. When he made a mistake, trusted naively in the words of a demon, he realized his error, even to the point of offering up his life to save the very people he had unwittingly condemned. He had every reason and impulse to embrace real evil, but he never did. He kept his faith, in me, in you, his brother. And, that brings me to the last reason. You, Dean. You were always tending the flock I had abandoned. Giving yourself, your strong, pure heart, to the world over and over again. No matter what came, you stood as a force for good against tremendous darkness."

Today, all three of you were together, willing to sacrifice whatever was necessary to stop this one from unleashing destruction on my creation. You were all willing to die, time and again, because it would save the many. You denied yourself your true desires and sought what might help perfect strangers."

I could no longer stand aside. You, all of you here on this hilltop, restored my faith in my creation."

Dean found the voice so soothing, he almost forgot about the death and destruction that was down there when he walked up the hill, and would be there when he came back down. And Dean was glad God was back on the job, that he had been inspired to come back from wherever he'd been. He truly was. And, he was going to appreciate all that sometime soon, he was sure.

But, right now, he didn't know what it all meant, that God was 'back.' Because God had designed his 'creation' to have free will, and Dean didn't see anyone giving up their religious wars, or suddenly treating their neighbors as themselves, or stopping their screwing around with their neighbors' wives. And, really, that wasn't his concern, either. Because people were going to do what they were going to do, and he couldn't really do anything about that.

No, Dean's concern rested under his hand. 6' 5" of little brother. And, it might have seemed small to everyone else, but, it was everything to him. He cleared his throat. "Um. Excuse me? Sir? God? If we've, um, pleased you in some way, I'm glad. Really. It's just, can you get Lucifer out of Sam, and help him to live through it without becoming a vegetable?"

There was no answer, and he heard Castiel gasp. "Dean." Like Dean was a kid talking out of line in church.

The voice came warmer, almost like Dean could sense the smile behind it. "Dean, don't ever be afraid to talk to me. I would welcome your words, at any time. As for your brother," Dean felt a warm wind swirl through the air. Something came out of Sam, like an icy, dark blast. "Samuel is restored to you, to himself, with my blessing."

He felt Sam stir beneath his hand. Dean closed his eyes. "Thank you."

Castiel spoke, with reverence and warmth. "Father, I humbly ask to be restored, as well---"

The voice, God, carried more resonance as it addressed Cas. "My son. My faithful, loving son. You are welcomed. You will always be welcomed." Castiel closed his eyes, nearly swaying in his relief. Two big, fat angel tears poured down his face. "There are, however, a few of your brethren that will not be so lucky." Dean hoped Zachariah was on the top of that list.

Then, he had a sense that the voice, the being, God, was getting ready to depart. He actually, physically raised his hand, like a kid in class, something that would kind of humiliate him later. "Um, excuse me? The demon blood, did you…is that out of my brother?" There was a long moment, where he wondered if he had gone too far.

But, the voice came close and warm. "No. If I were to take the blood, I would take too much of what makes your brother himself. He would be untainted, but he would be unrecognizable, to you, to me. Your brother is not less because of his demon blood. He is more. Remind him of that. And yourself."

Sam opened his eyes, and, before he could freak, Dean patted his chest. "Easy, Sammy."

Sam sat up, looked around, saw Thomas and Myrah where they still knelt, foreheads down on the dirt. Saw Castiel looking up, and Dean looking content and calm. Sam looked up, tilted his head. The voice came again, not as close. "You are among the best of my creation, Dean and Samuel. You wore a heavy mantle that was burdensome. But you kept walking. You kept caring for my world when I could not. When I would not. Know that I am here for you, and for all your brethren. You have my thanks." The voice was getting further away.

Castiel murmured, "And Lucifer?"

The voice became a booming, all-powerful thing. Bigger, sterner, than Dean could have imagined. "I will deal with Lucifer."

And the sky cleared as the voice soared away. Blue skies that almost hurt the eyes held an evening sun that warmed their weary faces. There was quiet, and for the first time in a long time, the quiet didn't feel menacing. Just, calm.

Sam looked up, looked at the faces of Dean and Castiel. "That was him, right? God?"

Castiel turned to look at the Winchesters. The smile he turned on them was blinding. Happiness, joy was practically pouring off him.

Then, Sam and Dean looked at each other. Is it really over? Are we really okay?

And Dean decided that he was not going to be overwhelmed by what had just happened. He was so used to taking all the dark, twisted, painful crap in stride, why not the biggest, best, kindest thing that could have happened? Team Winchester finally caught the biggest break that could be caught. "Can you believe our lives, dude?"

Sam smiled back at him, a big, wide, Sammy smile. "Like you said, it's a crazy trip, man."

Dean laughed, clapped Sam on the back, tried to take in everything that had happened. He saw something dangling next to his shoulder. He looked up. Castiel was holding out his amulet. "I no longer have need for this. I thank you for it."

Dean took it, held Castiel's gaze. "Congratulations, Cas. You backed the right horse, after all."

Castiel smiled, almost laughed. "I don't understand what that means, but I am too relieved to be bothered."

Dean put the amulet over his head, felt it settle against his chest, where it belonged. "It means, you were right to trust in your father."

Castiel closed his eyes and tilted his head toward the sun. His smile was smaller, but ever present. "You bet your ass, I was. As were you. Now, I think I'll go see your friend Bobby. I believe I have some unfinished business to attend to."

He was gone in a whoosh, like he always was. Sam looked over and Myrah and Thomas were also gone. "You think he's gone to fix Bobby?"

Dean nodded. "Yep."

Sam smiled. "Cool."

Dean laughed. "Really cool. Now, can we get out of this freakin' mud and go see what the world looks like, Lucifer-free?"

Sam nodded. "So, you never got to try out the super-charged angel knife, huh?"

Dean's expression turned frosty, giving Sam a dead-eyed stare.

Sam raised a brow. "Too soon?"

Dean got to his feet. "Shut up, Samuel." He turned, pulled Sam up by his offered hand.

Sam nodded. "Okay. Too soon."

The End