A/N: Okay, I just wanted to clear a few things. To warn people, Michael is really different in this story. Like, REALLY different. And the reason why I did that was because, I had no clue how Kripke would portray him. But I hope you like my version of him. Anyway, sorry for the long update, enjoy.

Pleasure painted his features as the sounds of desolation ran throughout his new world. Although the earth wasn't entirely his yet, he had accomplished so much, and there was much more to come. A sultry wisp of heated air escorted the scent of fresh blood and burning flesh. He inhaled it and smiled. Everything was his, from sea to shining sea, from foreign country to hidden jungles. No one could withstand his power.

Or so it seemed.

Unfortunately, a meticulous group had been on his last nerve lately. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't find them. And neither could any of his henchmen. Most certainly, it was peculiar on how someone could just disappear off the face of the planet. And if Dean had been killed, he would have known.

But. It didn't matter any longer. He would soon find the missing Winchester and the too, would be deceased along with his dear brother and anyone else who dared to stand in his way.

It had been one of the roughest nights yet. Like he predicted, it was full of atrocities and repulsion. The buried five people today. Five excellent dammed people. They had left behind family. They had pain the ultimate price of being a soldier in a war they would never see come to an end.

But Dean couldn't just act like Dr. Phil for those who had lost a loved one; apparently, he had a job to do. And his job was to save the world.

"Hey uh, Dean?" A gruff voice came from behind him.

"What Cas" Dean turned roughly and drew a deep breath, facing the angel in from of him.

"I think we should start thinking of a plan. The war isn't getting any, more people are dying. And if we don't act now, we may just call ourselves Dead man walking."

"I know Cas okay? We lost...alot of great people today, and I don't plan on having that happen again"

"The angel looked down, sorrow painting his tight features. He whispered quietly, "Chuck...he was a good person...a virtuous prophet"

Dean was sorrowful, "I know Cas, but we need to do what we have to do and if that means to forget out the dead, well...we do it."

Castiel looked at him in bewilderment, "Forget? Dean. How could we forget? Do you even know what goes on out there? Within the base camp? Do you even care?"

"Dammit Cas! I don't have time for this! Okay? I got people to train." Dean stomped out of the chalet and found the new group of survivors they had come across. While he was walking away, he could've sworn he heard the angel label him as an asshole. But what was new? He didn't even know who Dean Winchester was anymore.

The distinct angel knew he was lost. He was tired, bored and mostly, he was annoyed. With everything. Mostly at himself, for letting this occur. He should've stopped Zachariah and Raphael when he heard this arrangement of theirs. At first, he thought they were joking, but when it was too late, it hit him that they most certainly were not. Michael thought the sought to save the world from Lucifer; he later learned that they didn't care. They wanted Lucifer to obliterate the world, then they would slaughter him and then...everything would be tranquility, no war, and no hostility...peace,

they had no idea how mistaken they were. Lucifer is far more powerful than they could have ever imagined. In Michael's eyes, they were damming themselves along to hell, where deep down inside Michael's heart, he thought they belonged.

And, if they expected him to save the world...maybe he could Save Lucifer as well.

And then he thought, maybe not. His brother didn't resemble most angels. He was something to be feared amongst the humans. Michael knew his brother more than anyone elese did; they were always closer to each other than others. Michael loved his brother more than anything else, he cared for Lucifer in most ways they would never understand. Michael felt terrible for what he did to Lucifer, shunning his only loved one.

But he had no other alternative. God had commanded it and it had to be done. Michael was inconsolable when he threw Lucifer down, he wouldn't talk to anyone, not even his father. But deep down in his shattered heart, he knew it was for a good cause. But he never knew it would twist into something like this.

All of Lucifer's detestation and wrath varied into one conflict, a conflict he alleged would provide him virtue.

Michael shed a tear for the first time in centuries...he vowed that he would save his brother.