Apocalyptic Destiel

"Dean! Stop! Don’t do this. It's not your responsibility to always swoop in and save the world.” Cas said as Dean pushed passed him.

"No. It is my responsibility don't you get it? I can't just live my life knowing that there are people dying and I didn’t make an attempt to save them." 

Cas grabbed Dean's shoulder and turned him around so they were face to face. 

"Cas would you mind backing up and getting your hand off of me. This is my choice and I've made up my mind and even you can’t change it. I am going to stop the goddamn apocalypse whether you like it or not." 

Dean huffed and turned to resume his walk towards the Impala. He kept his head down and his steps steady. He shoved one hand in his pocket with the other spinning his keys around his first finger. He tried to push the nerves and anxiety deep down. It was hard to know he was walking towards his possible demise, but it was harder walking away from Castiel.

"I'm Dean Winchester for crying out loud. I don't get nervous. I don't get scared. I push through and save people. God why am I so scared? I am not a sissy." Dean whispered under his breath hoping that Cas didn't hear. The last thing he needed was this damn angel to have another reason to stop him. He felt like praying but he knew Cas would hear it, so he ruled it out as a measure to calm down.

He opened the door after what seemed like forever. He ducked his head and got in his beloved car. After taking a deep breath he decided to look back at Castiel. All he saw was a patch of grass where he had been seconds before. 

"Figures" Dean shook his head and turned the key taking time to admire the sound of the engine roaring to life, knowing that it could be the last time he hears one of his favorite sounds. 

"I'll miss you baby. If I make it out of there alive, I swear I'll get you fixed up." The car that had been through so much backed out of the lot and growled as Dean, her loyal driver, guided it towards the unknown.

Dean grunted as his brother's fist made contact with his face for the fifth time. The wounds were painful but the fact that it was Sam that was inflicting these injuries upon him was worse than anything that he had prepared himself for. Dean knew that it wasn't really Sam punching him. He knew that it was, in fact Satan. But, that monster was using his Sammy. Lucifer was possessing his little brother and was forcing this beating on to Dean knowing how it would hurt him physically and mentally. To him, it looked as though his Sammy was doing this. One of his biggest fears was his brother turning on him. The boy he practically raised when Dean himself was no more than a kid. The image of Sam with Dean’s blood on his fist, brow furrowed, and no mercy visible would never leave Dean's mind for as long as he lived and would haunt him even after his time on Earth had come to an end. 

"Please Sammy, stop," Dean begged, knowing his pleas were useless. He was right, his face became numb and his vision was blurred partly from the injuries and partly from tears. He couldn't focus on what was happening until he saw Sam's face close to his, and he could tell his boy had control. Sam was fighting it. He saw his brother stand up and hold his fist out but not towards Dean. Through his swollen eyes, Dean could barely make out four rings held in his huge hand. Dean wanted to jump up and stop his brother. He wanted to hug him and tell him that he didn’t have to do this. He wished that someone was going to jump out from behind a grave with cameras and yell, “You’ve been punked!” At the same time though, he knew that none of that was going to happen. He couldn’t stop his brother from doing what he had made up his mind about. He knew he shouldn’t. He didn’t want to do what Cas had done to him. So he stayed where he was and doing just that was one of the hardest things that he had ever done in his life. “I love you Sammy. Always have, always will.” Dean whispered as he saw his brother tumble into the dark abyss that lead straight to Hell. It was over. Sam had stopped the apocalypse.