Supernatural Series Rewrite- Season 5

Sympathy for the Devil: Final Part

"We need a doctor!" you yelled as you entered the nearest hospital. Sam and Dean carried your dad inside as your heart pounded in anticipation. The nurse who heard came rushing over to help to see what the problem was.

"What happened?"

"He was stabbed!"

"Can we get a gurney?" she yelled for one as two male nurses brought one.

"Daddy, you're going to be okay," you let the tears fall as he was placed gently on the gurney. He looked at you as they wheeled him away, and you went to follow him but the female nurse stopped you.

"Just wait here."

"We can't just leave him! He's my dad!" you yelled at her.

"Just don't move. I've got questions," she said once she left.

"Y/N, we got to go," Dean urged.

"No! No! I can't leave him!" your tears rolled down your cheeks.

"The demons heard where the sword is. We got to get to it before they do, if we're not too late already. He's in good hands now. We'll be back in no time," he said as he grabbed your hand. He forced you out of the hospital and into the car so that they can rush to New York to one of John's lockup storages.

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As soon as Dean arrived at the lockup, you only grabbed your gun from the trunk since you won't be needing anything else. Sam and Dean grabbed their shotguns with rock salt since that is the only thing to actually hurt a demon.

Entering the lockup, the first thing you saw was bodies on the floor. Demons if you were going to guess. There were about 4 demons dead on the ground. No other person in sight to tell you who had done it. Entering the lockup, you looked around to try and figure out if the culprit was still inside.

"I see you told the demons where the sword is," Zachariah said from behind you with two angel escorts.

"Oh, thank god. The angels are here," Dean said sarcastically.

"And to think... they could have grabbed it any time they wanted," he said as he used his angelic powers to close the storage door. "It was right in front of them."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

"We may have planted that particular piece of prophecy inside Chuck's skull, but it happened to be true. We did lose the Michael sword. We truly couldn't find it. Until now. You've just hand-delivered it to us."

"Get to the damn point, Zachariah. I am in no mood to be fucked with right now," you growled.

"It's you, Dean. You're the Michael sword. What, you thought you could actually kill Lucifer? You simpering wad of insecurity and self-loathing? No. You're just a human, Dean. And not much of one."

"Yeah, but I'm not," you said as you stepped in front of Dean. "I'm a vessel, do you remember? Do you remember who for?"

"Amara does not exist. She is not real; therefore, you can't be her vessel. Whatever lies you are being told, that's just it. They are lies. Dean on the other hand, he's Michael's weapon. Or rather his receptacle."

"I'm a vessel?"

"You're the vessel. Michael's vessel."

"How? Why—why me?"

"Because you're chosen! It's a great honor, Dean."

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, life as an angel condom. That's real fun. I think I'll pass, thanks."