A/N: This is set right after Season 5's "Dark Side of the Moon." Right after they return from Heaven, Dean decides to say "Yes."


"Isn't it funny how day by day nothing changes

but when you look back,

everything is different…"

C.S Lewis


"People will die."

"And then they go here, now tell me, what's so bad about that?"

Dean eyes open with a jolt.

Pamela's words echo in his mind, swirling and plaguing his mind like cancer. Shaking slightly, he lifts himself up to shuffle sleepily towards the bathroom. He glances at Sam for a moment and if it were any other time in the past… Dean would smile to himself. He'd feel that comfort of knowing Sammy was safe before heading to clear his mind. But lately, he feels nothing. After the failed escapade behind the big pearly gates, it only got worse. No warmth spreads through his body and Dean wonders if he will ever feel the touch of euphoria ever again.

One would think that Dean would be accustomed to waking up in the middle of the night. In a way, he had, but in other ways, it broke him down further…

The cold water splashes on his face and a familiar relief flows through him. The grimy 2-dollar mirror reflects Dean and his entire washed out face. Never before, has it been so hard to pretend to be okay. Dean can't help but be self-deprecating every time he looks in the mirror.

Returning from Hell, yeah that was a fucking nightmare, but it felt like those suppressed emotions sprouted to the surface with each passing day more often than not. The mere prospect of pulling the corners of his mouth in a smile seemed impossible.

After all the shit Sam and him had gone through together, maybe they could pretend to be okay, but right now… in such a bleak situation, it seems wrong. Dean knows his thoughts are hypocritical because of the things he said to Sam, about shoving all that crap and burying it deep inside… But that dick Zachariah and the other dicks with wings were getting to him. And it wasn't just them, the fact that he had lost Jo, Ellen, and faith in his brother made his stomach churn. Whom else could he loose? He did not have much to lose anymore…

His heart felt like it shattered up in Heaven, how could Sam place that little importance on family? Yeah, he didn't have those warm apple pie memories of their mom as Dean had. No, Dean understands why that wasn't in his heaven but Dean thought he was important to Sam. Dean's first memory up there was a time he spent with Sam, Sam's… well the entirety of his Heaven didn't have a mention of him. It was every time that he'd abandoned Dean…

For Sam it was his dream of freedom, for Dean it was his friggin' nightmare.

His angsty bitching pisses himself off and times like this, where he was acting like the opposite lead of Jennifer Aniston, he really thought about saying yes to Michael.

"…What's so bad about that?"

Zachariah couldn't have possibly planned that Dean and Sam would be killed, that would be a waste seeing as he would have to bring them both back… but damn, kudos to him if he did. Talking to Joshua really put things into perspective for Dean. Not only had Dean lost his faith, but Castiel had as well…

"Cas."

The name slippes out of his mouth and the emptiness of his voice shakes him to his core. The broken Angel had gone AWOL soon after the revelation that God wouldn't intervene sunk in. And man, who could blame him? Dean would not be able to bear the look on that broken Angel's face once more then he could bear the look of his own face in that mirror.

A desperate man's last hope crushed and spit on by an absent father could ruin a man's psyche permanently…

Dean was ready, ready to abandon all hope and allow Michael to wear him for the big showdown. People were going to die…a lot of people… but they were going to be a better place, well, at least the bulk of 'em. It's not like this is the first time he's killed or has been selfish.

"This world fucking sucks," Dean thought wearily.

With a frustrated sigh, he flicks the light off and walks into the latest crappy motel room. Sam rolls over restlessly and Dean felt a nervous twinge begin in his fingers. The feeling resembles tiny shocks of electricity flow, it begins in his fingertips and stretches until his entire body is a bunch of nervous energy... He shakes the feeling off.

The bright red fluorescent numbers on the clock read 5:52 and cast ominous shadows in the room. A frown tugs at his lips but he quickly turns it into a grimace. Carefully treading to the table with motel stationary tucked under his armpit, he grabs a pen from Sam's bag and sneaks to the table.

After writing what seemed like a decent "Dear John" type of letter, he places it on the bedside table.

He stares at the note for a full minute before he picks the letter up and pockets it.

Dean pulls on his boots and vintage Wilson's Leather jacket and storms outside.

His baby roars to life and he knows Sam must be stirring at the sound but he doesn't go right away. He listens to the purr of the engine and closes his eyes. He grips the steering wheel tight and breathes a conflicted sigh. His fingers feel and feed off from the energy in this car, which ultimately triggers a realization.

Sam's right, Dean's too weak. He won't leave now… he can't.

The car jerks forward as he pushes on the accelerator and zooms out of the parking lot. He's not going to gallivant to the nearest "servant of heaven" right now or anything like that, but to get coffee.

Departing from Sam would challenge ever fiber of Dean's being (And make him a huge fucking hypocrite for giving Sam shit for it). But Hell, he's not going to leave without making sure Sam wouldn't try to fuck up Dean's plans. At this point, not even Bobby or Castiel could change his mind.

Oh Hell, he knew he was going to betray them in the worst way possible, but this is something he has to do. He's tired, he knows it, Sam knows it, practically everyone knows it. He can't handle this pressure that's been pressing down on him ever since Mom died... Not anymore. This could be the only chance Dean has of getting out of this life... this bleak miserable life... Fucking selfish is what he is going to be, but that darkness in his heart refused to let that bother him. The damaged man let himself shed a tear-a manly one-in the Impala before grabbing the two cups of steaming hot coffee.

He got back in roughly thirty minutes and when he opened the door to the motel room, Sam was still in bed.

"Wakey wakey sunshine, big day ahead of us!"

His voice sounds strained… Maybe Sam won't notice…

A grunt was his only response so Dean says, "Get your ass outta bed or I swear I'll dump this coffee on your ass."

Sam sat up with an annoyed expression, "Why?"

"Found us a job."

"A job?"

Dean looks at him incredulously, "Yeah, a job. Here."

He tosses a newspaper over to Sam and Sam reads the headline. Sam sighs and breathes out, "Alright, fine."

After packing up and lugging their shit to the Impala, they set off for a town in Minnesota. For the most part, the ride there held a comfortable silence in the air, and for Dean it was a nice ride. With each Winchester's mind preoccupied and the sound of "Sweet Child of Mine" in the background, it felt nice. Normal even, despite all the shit going on around them.

And then Sam ruined it five miles from their destination.

"Dean."

He glances at Sam and motions to tell Sam he's listening.

"Look, I know the whole thing in heaven really bothered you," Sam watches as Dean shakes his head but continues, "I just want you to know... I'm sorry."

Dean doesn't hesitate to answer, "Funny feels like I've heard that before." Sam purses his lips and before he can say anything Dean says, "Just forget it man, like you said, you couldn't control it."

The strain to put a smile on his face is great but he manages to do so anyways and he turns up the music to signal the end of their conversation. Just need to bury it and keep moving until tonight.

Dean must underestimate how much Sam knows him, because Sam knows that fake smile was just to get him to shut up. Sam sighs and looks at the scenery; turned out to be the only thing that would calm him these days...

Dean picked this job because of two things. One, it would be easy to stop this "vengeful ghost" and two, because it would be easy to sneak off. Driving into the town, Dean's careful eyes watch the streets and looks for a person who'll be able to call Zachariah for him.

Sam notices the way Dean's eyes are searching and shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Dean doesn't seem to find what he's looking for but Sam remains suspicious.

When they check into the hotel, they grab their fake I.D's and head to the "haunted coffee shop." Standard procedure but Dean's head is not in the game. His mind is clouded.

Resisting rolling his eyes at everything the people say is like touching a hot stove without screaming…and that's putting it lightly.

They're sitting in the Impala and Sam says, "So this guy Emeret Ross set his house on fire in the 50's with his parents, wife, and children inside. Everyone inside the house was…"

Dean drowned out the rest of Sam's debriefing. It was all the same with these typical "Salt and Burns." He's more focused on the fact it's only 5 p.m and numbness spreads into his body. Like the static of a broken television screen, Dean's body welcomed the numbness.

"Dean," Sam glares at Dean, "Dean!"

"What?"

Sam throws him a bitch look, "You've been distracted all day man."

Dean rolls his eyes and says, "What is this? A guy can't be a little tired once in awhile?"

"Just try and pretend you're listening to me?"

The older brother just sighs and painfully smiles, "There's a cemetery not far from here where Ross was buried, you dig him up tonight and I'll make sure the thing's really gone. But for now, I want some grub."

"Jerk."

Dean's lips struggle to remain upwards as he replies sentimentally, "Bitch."

The restaurant's brunette waitress sets the delicious looking burger and pie in front of Dean and he savors in the aroma. Just as he's about to take his bite, he stops and really looks at it. How long will it be until he eats another juicy burger? Or will this be the last one ever?

Sam watches and gets uncomfortable… Maybe Dean's actually considering saying yes. Sam really doubts Dean would abandon him like that. But after what he witnessed in heaven, anything is possible. The way Dean looks at Sam now isn't the same, Sam can practically feel the resentment Dean holds. Sam feels like shit about it… really… The look in his brother's eyes turn his heart as cold as ice and makes his stomach do Olympic size flips

"I'll be right back," Sam says with a shaky voice.

With a full mouth Dean just says, "K." His eyebrows furrow, and his lips press together

He watches Sam stalk away and Dean's fingers twitch, he's on to him...

Sam walks into the bathroom and locks the door behind him; he pulls out his phone and scrolls through his contact list. The bathroom feels twenty degrees colder than it actually is and as he leans against the cold tile he listens for the Angel of Thursday's voice.

The ringing stops and he hears Cas's voicemail, "...I don't understand why do I need to say my name?"

He furrows his eyebrows but leaves a message anyways, "Hey Cas, it's Sam. Just making sure you're okay… Listen, Dean's been acting strange lately… I think he's going to say yes to Michael… We're in Roseau, Minnesota…Call me back."

He spends another minute looking at himself in the mirror before he heads back to Dean. But when he gets there, Dean's gone…

The only thing on the table is a letter addressed to him and cash. Panic finally sets in fully…

"No no no, Dean can't do this to me, he can't," Sam frantically thinks.


The first thing Dean does after Sam leaves is run. He slaps down a twenty-dollar bill, the note, and makes his move.

He runs to where he saw a man earlier that could call Zachariah for him. The preacher stares wide eyed at him and Dean shoves him to a nearby alley.

"Listen, bring that son of a bitch down here before it's too late," Dean's gruff voice scares the Preacher but he sends out the prayer.

Dean's fingers tap the sides of his legs anxiously as he waits and he feels his chest close up in a nervous fit. There's a eerie calmness and the gentle wind's sound bounce around in Dean's head.

"Well well, you're the last person I'd expect to be contacting me," Zachariah's smug voice calls out.

Dean turns around slowly and the look in Dean's eyes is pure defeat. Zachariah couldn't be happier. It's an amusing thing to reflect on how Dean's bravado has disappeared completely and has left behind such a hopeless man.

Wasting no time and with a sneer Dean says, "I'll say yes, but with conditions."

Zachariah twitches and says, "But of course."

"One: You better keep Bobby Singer alive throughout this. Two: Get Castiel's mojo back. Three: No fucking with Sam. Guarantee me that."

"Done!"

The air is tense and the preacher gasps with amazement. The eerie calmness from before surrounds them again and the tingling in Dean's fingers stretches to his entire body. The static coursing through his veins are of the nervous variety. This is it, this is Dean's last painful experience and then he gets to experience paradise…

"…What's so bad about that?"

"Tell Michael… Yes."

"What was that?" Zachariah mockingly holds a hand behind his ear.

"Yes okay!" Dean shouts, he sobers up and says with temerity, "Yes, Michael can have my meat suit."

Zachariah can hardly handle the happiness coursing through him. He starts to call Michael and after all the words have been said Dean genuinely smiles, "Now it's time to gank you, you son of a bitch."

The white searing light is getting stronger by the millisecond and the preacher begins to scream as his eardrums start to rupture. They choose to ignore it.

"What?" Zachariah asks with annoyance

"I'm going to kill you."

"Are you kidding? I got you to say yes! Don't you get it? I'm one of the bests up there. Michael wouldn't allow me to be killed."

The white light has almost encompassed the area and Dean smirks, "You're usefulness is gone now that I've said yes."

And just as the last dark corner in the alley is touched by the light, Dean steps forward and shoves the Angel knife into Zachariah's neck.

"Yes." Dean says for the fourth time, but this time his voice has more finality to it.

Sam runs around the corner just to witness that, he catches Dean's eye and can see the ghost of a smile on Dean's face…and then the white light covers the alley.

When Sam opens his eyes again Dean's gone and the only thing left behind of Dean is the knife in Zachariah's neck.

He pulls the note out of his pocket and the urge to rip it to shreds overwhelm him. Dean's gone.


A/N: Do you like making peoples days? Well, you can make mine by leaving me a review! :D