The End | {BOOK 5}

41| Dean's Plan

I stayed at the motel way longer than I originally planned. Dean called me two days after I left and got mad, wanting to know where the hell I was and when I was coming home. I told him that I wasn't going to tell him where I was and that I would come home when I was ready. After that, I shut off my phone and cut off all forms of communication so he couldn't track me down. A week later, Cass showed back up at the motel.

"You need to talk him out of it."

"What?"

"He won't listen to me or Sam. You need to talk him out of it."

"Talk who out of what? What are you talking about?"

"Dean," Cass stated. "He built a Ma'lak box. He's planning on locking himself away and having us leave him at the bottom of the ocean."

"What?"

"He claims it's the only way to stop Michael permanently. He and Sam are working a case right now, but..."

"Where?"

⁘

Cass dropped me off beside the Impala outside the Sphinx Machine Shop after explaining it would be better if he didn't also show up to bombard Dean. Grabbing my gun from the weapon bag in the back and tucking it into my waistband, I snuck into the building. When I got into the main room, the man who I assumed was Tony Alvarez, was on the ground in front of Sam and Dean.

"You can't- you can't do this," Tony protested. "I'm doing God's work. I'm carrying out his orders."

"You think God spoke to you?" Sam asked.

"I-I've been chosen. I hear his voice in my head."

"Yeah?" Dean asked. "What's he saying now?"

Tony concentrated, listening intently.

"Nothing," he admitted.

"Yeah. 'Cause whatever you heard, it wasn't God."

"Those people you killed were innocent," Dean crouched down in front of Tony. "You're not chosen, pal. You're just a psycho."

Dean punched Tony in the face, rising to his feet and turning to face Sam. He froze up when he saw me.

"Ellie? What are you-"

"So, what if he's hearing something, right?" I suggested, ignoring the question for now. "I mean, what if uh- what if he's picking up on some sort of vibe from Donatello, you know?"

"Donatello's out cold," Dean stated.

"Yeah, so we think he's out cold," Sam sided with me.

Tony got to his feet, throwing Dean to the ground. I lunged forward, grabbing Tony, but he threw me aside as well, then picked up the gun that'd fallen out when he threw me.

"He's got my gun!" I cried as Sam moved forward.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey," Sam held his hands up in a placating gesture. "Hey, hey. No, no, no. Wait."

My eyes widened as Tony turned my gun to point at his head.

"Stop. Hey, stop. Stop, stop, stop."

"No, no, no!" I cried.

"Wait-" Dean started.

Tony pulled the trigger, falling to the ground, dead. When we headed back out to the Impala, I stopped, staring at the trailer attached with the Ma'lak box on top. I could feel Dean's eyes boring into my head, daring me to look over and ask him about it, but I didn't. Instead, I climbed into the back seat and waited for the brothers to get situated and us to take off. Sam called Cass, putting the phone on speaker.

"So, then, this might not end with Tony Alvarez," he finished explaining. "Because the next prophet's gonna show up somewhere, a-and– and the crazy could start all over again. By the way, Cass... I thought there could only be one prophet at a time."

"And there should, but Donatello is between life and death," Cass replied. "I mean, you know, perhaps the next prophet was activated before his time?"

"And went all Hannibal?" Dean asked.

"The natural order's been upset," Cass continued. "Perhaps Donatello's state has created a prophet who's, who's not only premature... malformed."

"Okay," I said, leaning forward on the bench between Sam and Dean. "But if Tony was wired wrong because of Donatello, then the other prophet will be wired wrong, as well, and the next and the next and the- the next and... how do we end this?"

Cass didn't respond, Dean speaking up instead.

"You know how."

⁘

"Your uncle's in a persistent vegetative state," Dr. Rashad told us, "being kept alive by machinery and nothing else. Sometimes letting go is the right choice."

"Tell me about it," Dean muttered.

We followed the doctor further down the hall toward Donatello's room.

"Just coincidentally, you all being here at the same time. Dr. Novak, meet, uh..."

"Yes, I know," Cass cut him off, exiting Donatello's room in a doctor's white coat. "I know these three. The Winchesters."

"Doctor," Sam smirked.

"Doctor," Dean echoed while I just nodded.

"So, Dr. Rashad, you were saying there's been no improvement with our uncle?" I addressed the actual doctor.

"That's right," he nodded. "There's no real brain activity to speak of. Um, nothing beyond the occasional muscle spasm or, uh, babble of words. Strictly reflexive."  

"W-what kind of babbled word?" Sam asked.

"Follow me."

Sam followed the doc, but Cass stopped me and Dean from following them.

"So, 'doctor', checking in on old uncle Donny, huh?" Dean rolled his eyes.

"Hey, Dean. Eleanor. What happened to him- that was my fault. It was necessary. But it doesn't mean that I don't regret it. It doesn't mean that I don't wish that there could've been another way."

"I know the feeling," Dean nodded.

"Oh, no. No, please don't compare this to your suicidal plan. Just stop."

"Okay, alright. Why don't we talk about this later?"

"Because, according to your plan, there won't be a later," Cass snapped, then looked at me. "You were supposed to talk him out of it."

"There were other concerns, I hadn't had a chance to bring it up," I defended myself quietly.

"Cass..." Dean said, glancing briefly at me, "if you are a friend of mine, then you will understand that I have to do this and you won't try to stop me. You think this is easy on me? It has to be done."

"So, then, then this is goodbye?"

Sam came out and showed us a video of Donatello speaking Enochian. So, instead of pulling the plug, we decided to have Cass try and wake him up, and it worked. While Sam, Dean and Cass stayed behind to talk to the Prophet, I headed outside, needing a breath of fresh air.