Supernatural Preferences & Imagines

Dean Winchester Imagine

I can make happy, I can make you love me, I can disappear completely.

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What if Dean meant it when he said "Yes" to Michael? And what if Michael did listen to Dean?

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Dean watched his brothers hemorrhaging and stared at Zachariah in the eye. "...do it," he mumbled, looking at Sam. "What? I didn't hear you?" Zachariah said, smiling evilly.

Dean stared at him, tears in his eyes. "I said I'll do it, yes, okay! So call down Michael!" Sam stared up at his brother sadly. "Dean, no..." Adam coughed up more blood, glancing at Dean out of the corner of his eye. Dean? He thought, shaking.

Zachariah stared at him. "How do I know you're not lying?" Dean took in a deep breath and stared at his brothers in pain. "Does it look like I'm lying?" He exclaimed, his voice rising. Zachariah looked at Dean apprehensively, then started to chant something.

The room in which they all stood in began to shake, and Sam couldn't make a move to his brother. "But you have to keep a few people safe," Dean said, firmly. Zachariah grinned triumphantly. "Sure, name a list," he walked closer to Dean. "And before Michael can lay a hand on me, he has to ice you." That made the angel stop in his tracks. "What?" He asked, as if he didn't quite understand what he had said.

"I said," Dean looked at Zachariah menacingly, "before Michael can lay a hand on this fine ass, he has to kill you. Burn you to a charcoal," he hissed, Zachariah angrily stalking over to him. "Do you know who I am, boy?!" He snarled angrily, getting in the eldest brothers face. "He wouldn't kill me!" The room shook harder, Dean's brothers still hemorrhaging.

Dean snapped back, "Who do you think he cares about more? Me, or you?" Zachariah opened his mouth to say something, but light flooded out of his eyes and mouth. He fell to the ground, black wings stained at his sides. Sam and Adam coughed again, but no blood came out. Sam shakily stood up, staring at Dean.

"Dean, I..." Dean looked at his brother sadly. "I'm tired," he said softly, a single tear running down his face. Sam bit his lip and tears fell down his face, Adam standing up behind him. "Sam." Adam said and limped over to him. Sam just kept his eyes trained on his brother. Dean looked at Sam, and Sam cried more.

It was like the look he gave him when the clock striked twelve after he sold his soul.

The room stopped shaking, everything stilling. The door opened and in stumbled a disoriented Cas. "Did you—" he stopped staring at everything. "Cas, I'm sorry." Dean said before the room burst with light.

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Two years later

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Sam stared at Chuck, then at the people working together. Slowly, everyone was rebuilding their cities. Adam stood nearby, sitting on the curb.

Sam hadn't given into Lucifer, he hadn't said yes. Lucifer still fought, but with Dean instead.

Dean.

Sam's eyes watered. Michael still inhabited Dean, after he won the fight. Lucifer was back down in the cage, and Michael was back up in heaven—in Dean.

Or if it was just his body. Sam didn't know if Dean had died and was in his own heaven or if he was still chained in his own body, like being on a comet.