The Final Destruction 2

by Amelia Esla

  The demon smiled, faintly, and Dean knew she would. "Okay. I accept." She snapped her fingers, but nothing happened.

  Dean was about to ask when he heard the growling.

  Hellhounds.

  …

  "Sh!" Sam yelled, hushing everyone. "Do you hear that?"

  Everyone paused, listening. They did hear that. It was a woman's voice, but it was hard to hear what she was saying. Sam didn't care- she had to be with Dean. He ran off, following the sound of her voice. He could hear Ruby, Bobby, and Megan yelling at him, but he ignored it.

  He pushed past the wall of bushes and trees, ending up on the other side at a road. Just a few yards away, the road came to a crossroads, and he saw Dean standing there with a black-eyed woman. Neither saw him.

  "Okay, I accept."

  The woman spoke smoothly, smiling evilly. No... I'm too late...

  "Dean!" He called, running toward his brother. Dean turned and saw Sam for the first time.

  "Sam?" There were tears in his green eyes.

  Sam had reached them as the demon said, "You might want to stand back Sam. I can hear them, already." And with that, she disappeared.

  "Hear who?" Sam repeated, facing Dean. "Dean, hear who?"

  Dean opened his mouth, but just then Bobby, Megan, and Ruby appeared from the trees. He tried again, quietly, "Hellhounds, Sam."

  Sam shook his head. "No. No no no! You still have time! It's only been a couple of months!"

  "I'm sorry, Sammy. I... I couldn't..." He let his eyes flicker to Megan as she and the other two approached.

  "Dean, wait..." Her voice was small, like she was a little kid looking for her mom. "Dean. You can have the blood- It's okay, I understand- "

  "It's too late." Dean took a few steps back, holding his hand out to stop them from following. "I... I see them."

  Sam felt his breath catch in his throat. "Dean-"

  "It's okay, Sammy. Please..." Dean didn't know what to say, but he didn't want to see his little brother crying. Not now. He didn't want that to be his last vision of Sam. "Don't worry about me, Sammy. I know you tried- I know you wouldn't have given up on me. But it's over now."

  While he was speaking, he could hear the growling growing louder as they approached, and he knew the others couldn't hear it.

  "Back up- Now." Dean backed away as well. He didn't want anyone getting caught in the crossfire. "Please... just... you don't have to see this. Just, go."

  Sam started to protest, but Bobby grabbed his arm. He could feel hands pulling him away, but he didn't want to go. He wanted to be there for Dean when...

  Dean turned away from them, and barely had time to prepare himself before the first one pounced. It threw him backwards and landed on top of him. He felt it's claws digging into his chest, and he couldn't help a scream of pain from escaping his lips. He wished he had been alone for this part.

  There were three, and they were all on him now. All he could see, think, hear, feel, and taste was blood. Blood pumping in his ears, blood in his mouth and lips and running down his chest and legs. Everything was red and everything was pain. And then... he felt himself slipping. He felt his body give up, give into the pain. He felt his essence- his soul leaving his body, and he knew exactly where it was going.

  Down.

  …

  "Sam!" Bobby was trying to keep him still, so he didn't run off to his brother. Not yet... not until they were sure.

  Bobby couldn't even come to terms with what happened, himself. He had only just gotten his boys back. He didn't know it would be so soon that he lost them, again.

  But now wasn't the time to be emotional about it. He had two kids here who were going to be plenty emotional themselves, and a demon who had promised to help, but obviously did not go through with her offer.

  Sam was a wreck. They pulled him away into the trees, but all the trek back to the camp, he could hear Dean screaming, until it suddenly stopped.

  He sat in the truck, holding his head in his hands, trying to stop the sobbing that seemed to never cease.

  Megan felt oddly... empty. She had been on autopilot before, helping Sam back to camp. She felt like it was something she had to do, so she did.

  But now they were back, she had a chance to think. She didn't know why the demon had wanted her blood, and it terrified her.

  Dean had been planning to do it since Sam woke back up- this whole time he knew what he was going to do. But he didn't do it. He had every chance, but he wouldn't do it.

  He knew. He must have known what the demon wanted, and it was worth risking his life.

  It was that thought that broke her.

  He didn't just die for Sam. He died for her, too. And there was nothing she could do about it. Even with all her powers, she couldn't save him, or anyone else for that matter.

  What is the point? She thought, hopelessly. What's the point of all this, if I can't even help my friends?

  …

  Ruby stood back, watching from afar. She knew they wouldn't want to see her yet. Not after what had happened with Dean.

  Secretly, Ruby knew the plan. She knew what the demons were planning, and she was all for it. She would have to get Sam ready, but for now she would let him grieve.

  Without his brother, he would be emotional and reckless. Perfect for manipulation.

  The demons were going to wipe out humankind, and Sam Winchester was going to help them do it.

  16- Hell

  Four months later

  Dean had felt nothing but pain for a long time.

  That's all Hell was- pain and suffering that went on forever. He was tortured, he tortured others. He was in pain, and he brought pain to other trapped souls.

  Hell was excruciating pain, the smell of seared flesh, the sounds of tortured screams, the feeling of hopelessness.

  That was all he had felt, and all he had known for forty years in the pit. So when that beam of bright white light appeared, his soul couldn't even begin to understand what it made him feel.

  Love. Family. Hope.

  At first he didn't want to go into the light. He liked torturing souls. After decades of being torn into and carved up, it was enjoyable being able to have that control for once.

  And besides, he was Alistair's best student. He told him all the time, how proud he was of his improvements... it wasn't much of an accomplishment, a demon being proud of you, but he'd take it. He had nothing else in this pit of despair.

  But then came the light. The soft, warm light- it's warmth felt different than the heat of Hell. It felt welcoming. He could feel the light beckoning to him, calling for him. It promised a way out of this place. It promised home, Earth, Sam...

  Yet Dean hesitated. He would regret it for the rest of his life, but for a moment, he didn't want to go back to all that. To all that fruitless responsibility.

  But in the end, Dean went into the light. He trusted it because it had been such a long time since he could trust anyone.

  He felt something grasp his arm, and he felt a searing pain. He barely flinched. It was nothing in comparison.

  He closed his eyes and felt his soul rising up above the racks, and he heard the constant screams of agony get farther and farther away.

  Soon all around him he felt... nothing. Nothing but the light.

  He couldn't keep track of time- Earth time and Hell time were different, and they were somewhere in between right now. But it couldn't have been too long before they made it to Earth.

  For the first time in forty years, Dean could smell the cool air and feel it against his skin. He opened his eyes and saw the trees and the grass. He heard birds and insects all around. It felt like a dream. A dream he was terrified to wake up from.

  Suddenly, the light surrounded him once more, and he couldn't see, hear, or feel anything until...

  With a sudden jolt, Dean woke up. He felt wood against his skin, and he could barely breathe. It was dark, and he couldn't see anything. He could feel his body: his real one, not the soul that he jus
t saw while in Hell. It was real. It was flesh and bones. He couldn't remember what had happened, or where he was. In an act of panic, he reached into his pocket and fumbled around for his lighter.

  He brought it out, holding it close to his chest because there was no room for anything else, and lit it.

  The small space was illuminated by the low light, and he could finally see where he was.

  A... box?

  The nailed wooden box wasn't exactly a coffin, but it was certainly acting as one. He pushed up on the top, feeling the weakness in his arms. It didn't budge, but some dirt fell through the cracks. I'm underground...

  He knew he was running out of time and of precious air. He had to move quickly.

  Years ago, his Dad took him out and taught him what to do in this situation; when you were buried alive. He had been terrified then. He was just a kid. He wasn't a kid anymore- but he could still feel that same fear.

  First he put out the light, shoving it back in his pocket. He tried his best to slow his breathing, knowing panicking would only make it worse. Then he pulled his shirt up, wrapping it around only his face. That would protect him from the dirt. Finally, he tried using his legs, kicking at the frail lining of the box. He could feel it weakening. Come on...

  Finally, the box gave in, collapsing on top of him. He felt dirt falling onto his chest and legs, and he quickly squirmed to get out. He pushed himself up, shoving dirt back into the coffin as he went. He reached up as far as he could, and suddenly he felt his fingers breach the surface.

  He managed to pull his head out of the dirt, pulling his shirt back down, and finally able to breath air again.

  He took a moment to enjoy the easy breathing before pulling himself out completely. He lied down on the grass, trying to understand what was happening.

  He remembered Hell- every moment of it. But why was he here, now? A light... He faintly remembered a light, but it was not clear.

  He closed his eyes, feeling exhausted. He didn't even hear the girl until it was too late.

  Dean felt hands on his shirt, his eyes flew open and were met by the cold dead eyes of a zombie. He pushed her away, and crawled backwards.

  The zombie snarled, picking itself up and going after him again. He had nothing on him to defend himself with.

  He sat up, scanning his surroundings. He seemed to be in the middle of nowhere, but then he saw the trees. Trees, everywhere, knocked over within his radius. That was not a good sign. Not at all.

  He tried to stand up, but everything ached. The girl was on him again, and all he could think was that he just got out of Hell. He didn't want to go back so soon.

  He pushed her back and held her down. She struggled against him, and Dean could tell just how strong she was. She was snapping at his hands, and finally he had to let her go. He considered going for his lighter, which was all he had with him, but he wasn't sure that would do him any good.

  The zombie got up a third time. Jeez, these bastards are resilient!

  Suddenly, hands grabbed at the girl, spinning her around and pressing on her forehead. Her snarl turned to a scream as her whole body began to glow. Dean had to shield his eyes until he felt her slump onto his leg.

  He looked up to see who the hands belonged to. A man with an unstraightened tie and a trench coat stood before him. "Hello, Dean."

  Dean pushed the zombies dead(er) body off of him, and stood to face him. He stood taller than the man, and he was a bit larger than him- yet there was something about the guy that made him seem much more menacing. "Who the hell are you?" He cleared his throat, hating the hoarse sound of his own voice.

  "I am Castiel. I am an Angel of the Lord."

  "An Angel? You really expect me to believe that, buddy?" Dean stayed a comfortable distance from Castiel. Whoever this guy was, he could almost only be trouble.

  Castiel eyed him, his gaze never leaving Dean. "Yes, I do. Who else could have had the power to rescue you from the pit and restore your body?"

  Dean's eyes widened. "What the hell are you t-" And then it hit him. "You- You're that... that beam of light? That was you?" Castiel nodded. "But you look... human."

  Castiel looked down at his body. "Yes, well, this is only a vessel. But none of that matters, Dean. I saved you from the pit because I needed you."

  "You need my help?" Dean looked at him, bewildered. "What could an Angel possibly need my help for?"

  "I need your help to end it." Castiel answered, cryptically.

  "To end what?"

  Castiel looked down at the dead girl, and then back at Dean. Dean stared at her, still not understanding. "Wait... you mean the zombies? You want me to stop the zombies?"

  "I want you to bring an end to the End of the World, Dean Winchester. Will you help me?"

  17- Friends With Angels

  "Look, dude... I'm gonna need a little more than that." Dean turned away, thinking. His whole head hurt and he felt weak. And really thirsty. "You can't expect me to just trust you. I literally just met you. At least buy me dinner first." Dean grinned at his joke, but the Angel didn't seem to get it.

  "Dinner? I saved your life. I brought you out of that unholy place. What more could I do to help build your trust?" Castiel seemed agitated. He didn't have time for this. He had two apocalypses on his plate. He didn't have time to argue with this human.

  Dean thought for a moment. "Take me to my brother."

  Castiel's expression darkened. "I don't think that is a good idea."

  Of course not... "I don't care what you think. I want to see him. Is he with Bobby and Megan, still?" Are they all still alive?

  Castiel's jaw clenched. "No. Dean... you've been under for four months up here. A lot has... changed since then."

  "Like what?"

  "Dean, this apocalypse is not the only one in danger of destroying what's left of this planet." Castiel sighed. "You see, the angels- my brother's and sister's- are misguided. They are scared, Dean. And my eldest brother, Michael, wants to do what he thinks our Father wants of us. To bring about the End.

  There are those of us who believe our Father is more reasonable- that he wants to see this planet flourish. I am trying to lead them against Michael and the others, but I need your help."

  "Wait, wait..." Dean interrupted. "Two apocalypses? And what does any of this have to do with Sam?"

  Castiel continued. "My brothers initially started this... zombie apocalypse, as you may call it. We refer to it as the Rise of the Dead. It was their futile attempt at an easy end. Ending the world is not easy... it takes a lot to kill off you humans. Obviously, their plan did not kill off humanity as they had hoped. So instead, they are going to try a more... formal attempt." Castiel paused, gauging Dean's reaction. "The angels are going to free Lucifer from Hell. And they are going to use your brother to do it."

  "What?" Dean took a step forward, surprised to see Castiel taking a cautious step back. "That's why I can't see Sam? Bullshit. I need to talk to him right now."

  "I can take you to your other friends, if that would help." Castiel offered.

  Dean considered it. "Why do they need my brother?"

  "I'm not sure." Dean could tell right away that Castiel was lying. He knew exactly what they wanted Sam for.

  "That's not good enough, Cas."

  Cas titled his head. "I don't understand why you don't trust me. Isn't your life worth that?"

  Dean clenched his jaw. "You know what, I've decided. I do want to see my friends."

  Cas smiled slightly. "As you wish."

  …

  Bobby was asleep on the couch when he heard a noise from behind him.

  He and Megan had been staying in this house for a couple weeks now. After Sam ran off with Ruby, it was just the two of them. Bobby liked Megan. She kept to herself, mostly, but she was kind and determined. He knew he could trust her, and if he couldn't be with the boys, a trustworthy friend was the next best thing.

  He opened his eyes, grasping quietly for his gun. Maybe Megan was back early. Maybe thos
e footsteps were something else.

  "Bobby?"

  Bobby's heart skipped a beat when he heard that voice. He knew that voice anywhere. But... that was impossible. It can't be...Bobby stood up abruptly, whipping around, gun up and loaded.

  Dean's hands went up. "Whoa, hold up there, Bobby... It's... It's me."

  It is. "Dean? It... It can't be... you're dead. I- we, buried you."

  Dean smiled slightly, shrugging. "Yeah, I know. But I'm back now."

  Bobby lowered his gun, walking forward. "Is that really you, boy?" He reached out, cupping his hand on his face. He felt real. "It's so good to see you," He dropped the gun completely, wrapping his arms around Dean.

  Dean hugged him back. "It's good to see you, too, Bobby."

  Bobby pulled away, looking at the other man, who stood beside him, rather still. "Who's your friend, here?"

  Castiel didn't smile. "My name is Castiel."

  "It's a long story. I'll, uh... I'll explain later." Dean promised.

  "Bobby!" A voice that had to be Megan's came from across the house. All three men turned as she came into the room.

  She was holding a backpack, coming back from a supply run, but when she saw Dean, she immediately dropped it. "Dean?"

  Dean grinned. She looked different from the last time he saw her. She looked more confident, and stronger. Maybe all this time with Bobby was good for her. "Hey, Megan. You look great."

  Megan ran over and practically jumped into his arms. "I can't believe it's you. How are you back?"

  Dean glanced over at Castiel. "I think Cas, here should explain..." He noticed Castiel was staring at Megan, almost in awe. "Cas, you listenin' to me?" Castiel seemed to snap out of his trance. "Dude, I know she's pretty, but..."

  Castiel looked back at Megan, confused. "This is your friend? Megan?"

  "Uh," Megan felt uncomfortable with him staring at her. There was something in his eyes that made her wary. "Yeah, I am. Dean..." Her fingers gripped his jacket.