Holy crap this story is hard to write. It's impossible to stick to the original storyline, hence why this is so short. Any help? Please review some tips or I wont be able to start the next chapter :(

Lucifer's soul emerged from hell, not gracefully as he had hoped but more like an injured animal clawing its way out of the arms of its captor. He turned to see Crowley, all smirks and grins as he eyed the Winchesters and disappeared back into the depths of Hell with a nervous laugh. The fool.

Lucifer felt a pang of disappointment, he had so hoped only good things for that demon but it seemed even the most evil up front were cowardly beneath. He reached out a glowing arm towards the boys at the far side of the room, fingers extending into glowing claws, ready to rid the world of these beasts, the hunters who had destroyed his beloved Lilith and yet he had known it was what had to be done or he would have stayed rotting in the pit of hell forever.

But as he reached out toward the blind eyes of the two, admiring the angles of their faces, the way each of them had been moulded, shaped, by his father from the dust of the earth, there had been another soul, brighter, more blinding than his own. And for a brief second he was blinded by it and when his vision cleared,

The hunters were gone.

Dean screamed as Sam's fingers dug into his arm in a terrified frenzy, the hunk of metal hurtling toward the ground below. He glanced sideways, a woman was clutching her child, tears streaming down her face as she rocked, there were also others, elderly, more children, young men, babies. He wished he could pause time, save everyone, he felt utterly useless. The last thing he though before the cabins went dark with the darkness of his mind was, 'I'm sorry, Dad. I couldn't save him.'

When Dean woke up he couldn't really believe it, he was alive, stiff and sore but alive. His heart dropped as he looked around, the woman wasn't, nor was her child, both embraced in a tangled mess of broken limbs. He looked away as tears started to burn angrily at the edges of his eyes. 'Sam…Sam! Where was he?' His stomach flipped before he realised that his not so little brother still clung to his arm in his unconscious form, nails stained red where he had drawn slight blood. He sighed out loud, smoke from the plane wreck stinging his vision slightly as he shoved Sam, waking him up.

"C'mon." Dean got up from the heap, they were the only survivors, everyone else was dead, he noted as his eyes scanned painfully over the hundreds of scattered bodies that were strewn about the wreck. Sam's eyes were widening as he stumbled to his feet, "We're alive…how?"

"You think I know!?" He snapped back at him, causing Sam to bite back his words in favour of getting away from the scene before the departments started to turn up. It would be hard enough explaining why they had dozens of identities.

After traipsing through the long grass of the crash site and away from the smoke that rose in the distance, it had become darker as night fell around them. They had reached a highway, cars zoomed past every couple of minutes; it wasn't overly busy. Dean stuck out his hand and waved down a nearby truck and after a couple of tries the brothers were on the road back to Bobby's place.