And Nigh, The End It Cometh.

Summary. . . . . . . . . Lucifer's free and hell bent on getting what he wanted all along. An AU of what I think could happen in season 5.

Disclaimer. . . . . . . Even though I ask nicely everyday, they still belong to Kripkie.

I don't know how it happened, but we're free and running away from this hell of a place, Sam strapped safely in the passenger seat beside me. We'd stayed just long enough at a motel in town to make sure Sam was fixed up enough to travel, but I think we're all ready to leave this place. I look in the rear view mirror and see the same surprised look that I'm sure I'm wearing written all over Bobby's features. One minute we were trapped, stuck to the wall by an unseen force about to be mercilessly taunted by the devil, the next we're falling, and Sam; Sam's screaming. I'd managed to distract Lucifer long enough so that Bobby could recite the words of the olde worlde chant, but we both knew without the power of the hex bombs, as I liked to call them, that Cas had made the words would be meaningless. That's when the power had shifted, both Bobby and I falling to the ground as it seemed like the whole world began to shake around us once more.

As Sam has started screaming I'd looked over to Bobby to see if he had managed to use his bomb, only to find him questioning me as to if I had managed to use mine, both of us miming the same word as realization struck. "Sam?" We'd both turned back Sam's way at that point, just in time to witness the horrific battle that was taking place inside my brother, and the toll said battle was taking on Sam. I don't know how he managed it, to be honest I don't even care, but Sam was winning. Lucifer though was not giving up without a fight. New scars began to appear, blood glistening against the black clothes Sam wore, and trailing down his features from cuts hidden within his hair, but Sam ignored them and battled on giving me all the time I needed to plant the bomb, the bag causing minimal damage to Sam as I set of the small explosive hidden inside, but to Lucifer it was like hellfire. Sam's screams increased as the fallen angle battled to stay inside him, but the hex was more powerful dooming Lucifer and banishing him back to hell in a burst of brilliant fiery red, leaving Sam an unconscious mess upon the floor.

I look over at Sam sat restlessly sleeping in the car beside me, and thank whoever is watching over us that I managed to bring him back. I worry immensely about the cost though; the cost to human lives; the cost of friends dying in battle; the cost to my brother. Was it worth it? I have to believe so; have to believe that losing a few hundreds saved millions, billions even; that fellow hunters who passed, didn't die in vain; the the cost that Sam paid, is something I can get back, but I truly don't believe that I can.

I shoot another glance Sam's way and notice again just how much these past six months have taken out of him, have damaged him, the effects coming to light as we'd stayed the night in the motel, appearing before our very eyes like some special effect from a bad horror movie. His hair is razor short now, some of it falling out on it's own the rest cut that way by my hands in an attempt to get to the damage Lucifer created, a style that I hate even after all these years of griping at him to get it cut; now I would give anything for it to be longer, for it to hide the scars that litter his scalp, and take away from the even more sharp edges of his cheekbones. His eyes are hooded by dark circles, the lids ringed by scarlet, and I know if he were to waken and open them his whites would be bloodshot and his dull; but I have to be thankful that they would at least be back to the blue brown he was born with and not the ungodly black that flecked with different colors with each shift of light.

He looks thin, not the sinewy, muscular, lean that I'm used to, but thin, deathly thin if I'm honest; no matter what I try though soups, salads, chicken, he wont eat it and it's killing me just as much as it's killing him to watch him wasting away, dying before my very eyes. The scar that runs from his right eye to the very edge of his mouth is hidden from me at the moment, but I know it's there brilliant red against his pale features, puckered in places where it's been allowed to heal without help; a constant reminder of what's past that now mars a face that many once envied. I know that there's more and worse tracing patterns all over his body, but this one sickens me the most. Why? Because I put it there, it came from my hand in a last desperate battle to save him. I guess it worked, but was the cost too high?

He starts awake beside me, the remnants of his nightmare evident on his face, but he's quiet now when he dreams suffering the agony in silence. I pull the car over to the side of the road, gaining a few honks of protest from the cars behind me but I don't care, Sam's more important to me and if his previous dreams are anything to go by I know he'll be scrambling for the door soon. I switch off the ignition and turn to look over his way, I ask him if he's okay? What his dreams were about? Did he need anything? But as usual he just retreats inside of himself, takes this burden, this load, this punishment as though it's his and his alone, as though he deserves it. I try again telling him it wasn't his fault that he was possessed, desperate now for him to open up, to release one of those chick flick moments I had at one time dreaded but now would give anything to hear, but he just looks upon me with scorn and guilt and defeat, and whispers that it didn't stop people blaming him last times, and what can I say to that? Even I blamed him briefly and that was just for blasting me with rock salt, not starting an apocalypse and being witness as a demon wearing his body released hell upon this earth, raping and pillaging and murdering.

I sigh deeply as he returns to the car and closes his eyes once more, ignoring both mine and Bobby's words of comfort, choosing instead to turn his frame away from us both. I want my brother back, need my brother back but I wonder if I have the strength to bring him back. I risk another glance back at Bobby and feel my resolve strengthen. I can do this. I will do this. I let Sam down once before with harsh words, this time I wont fail him. I turn on the engine and prepare to move off, placing a hand on Sam's shoulder and squeezing, comforting him in my own way. "We'll work through this brother, I promise you we will." I whisper before turning my attention back to the road and leaving the chapel nothing more than a speck in my rear view mirror.

The End.

A.N. . . . . . . . . . I hope that you all enjoyed, will catch you soon, Peanut x