Lawrence, Kansas May, 2010...

Across the world, the portents rose. Earthquakes leveled cities, floods washed clean the populated places of the rich and poor alike, storms swept away whole tracts of life. The End of Days was come, written in the stars and in the destruction that fell upon the earth, with so many innocent lives caught up in the fall out. Chaos ruled the Earth, but for one single place. The eye of the storm.

Stull Cemetery, Lawrence, Kansas. A desolate, overgrown resting ground for the long forgotten dead. Nothing moved between the headstones scattered throughout the dry grass, not a single breath of air to lighten the deathly stillness. Where it had begun, with the birth of two boys destined to play their roles, was where the final showdown of the Apocalypse would take place.

In the space of a heartbeat, with the flap of unseen wings, a tall figure stood where before there had been no one. To a friend, it might have been just Sam Winchester, staring across the silent graveyard. But one look into those eyes told a different story. Lucifer, the Morning Star, the Devil himself, once God's most beloved son and now the greatest outcast of all his brothers ....He had taken Sam Winchester as his vessel, laughed at the pitiful plan in place to stop the destruction of the world at his own hands. He had tormented the younger Winchester with blood and memories, until Sam was left whimpering, locked away in his own mind by the power of the creature who had taken him over. Lucifer waited, as patient as the stars. He knew his brother would come. It was foretold.

It wasn't hard to find a brother who wanted to be found. Michael found it somewhat ironic that Lucifer had chosen this place for their final battle, though he also found it logical, predictable even, returning to place where it had all begun, at least for the Winchesters. He didn't want to kill his brother, not really. He loved him, but he was the obedient son and as such, had no choice. God had ordered Lucifer's destruction, and though it grieved him, Michael had no choice but to obey.

Disobedience, refusal, rebellion had never been an option, not for him. Despite the toll of human lives, he believed himself to be justified and blameless because, in the end, he was only following orders. With a second flap of unseen wings, he appeared in that same field to meet his rebellious brother for the first time since he had locked him away centuries before. Anyone who might have been watching in that desolate place would only see two men, brothers, grimly facing each other, both believing they were justified in their actions, both believing they were right.

"Lucifer," Michael acknowledged his brother using Dean's voice, the first of the pair to speak, as he thought was proper, being the elder. He did not bother to tell his brother to beg for forgiveness, nor did he waste time with threats or lectures. It had all been said before ad nauseam. "It is time," he said, knowing the other was more than ready to meet his fate, whatever that fate might be.

"We don't have to do this, brother." Lucifer turned to face Michael, his eldest brother, the one who had looked after him for so long before he had chosen rebellion. His anguish on Sam's face was clear and genuine. He didn't want to kill Michael any more than Michael wanted him dead. "We could walk away, right now, stop playing Daddy's little game. Or you could stand with me."

"You know that's not possible," Michael replied, and though he was feeling genuine regret for what he had to do, grief, even, at the thought of having to kill his younger brother, his expression was one of grim determination. He believed that once Lucifer was dead, all would once again be right with the world. Heaven would triumph over Hell for all of eternity and there would at last be peace on Earth. "You made your choice long ago. There is no turning back now." Michael only had to think about it, and a blade appeared in his hand - a blade that was capable not only of killing angels, but archangels, like his brother, like himself. "I'm sorry, but I have no choice."

"It wasn't my choice." With a metallic sparkle of sound, Lucifer's own blade appeared in his hand, as bright and sharp as the one wrapped in his brother's fist. "Our Father made us this way. He wrote his Apocalypse into the foundations of this Earth. He loved us, and yet when He made his new toy, we were forgotten. I was forgotten. Cast aside in favor of these mindless, pitiful, flawed things that don't even believe in Him half the time! I will not be cast down again in favor of anything lesser!"

The expression Michael offered his brother through Dean was one of pity. He felt sorry for his younger brother and always had. He didn't understand how he had gone astray, and it truly grieved him to be the one to have to punish him, but at least, he would be quick and merciful in his punishment, unlike some of the others might have been. "You were never forgotten. Our brothers and sisters never forgot you. I never forgot you. I will never forget you, but the time has come. The end is near. So it has been decreed since the beginning of time. Why must you question everything" Why could you not just have faith and trust' I love you, Lucifer, but I love Father more."

"And Father loved me best of all." Even now, in this last battle of words before the fighting would have to begin, Lucifer could not resist rubbing that in. He had been the favored son, the most beloved, and even that had not saved him. He could feel Sam scratching around inside him, flexing his muscles, and a cruel smile crossed his borrowed face. "Why do you obey Him, Michael" He has abandoned you, as He abandoned me."

Inside Michael, Dean heard the question that Lucifer asked through Sam. It was an old question and one that had once pained him, like an open, seeping wound. Like Michael, he'd been the eldest son, the obedient son, the one who never questioned his father's authority and did whatever was asked of him, even when he wasn't in agreement.

Michael faltered, if only for a moment, as Lucifer's words picked at his own pain, as well as the man's who was lurking inside him, but it was such a momentary weakness that it passed almost before it could be noticed. "You already know the answer. I obey because I must. Because I am the eldest, because I was the first. If I do not obey, who will?" he asked, turning the question back on his tragically errant brother. "God is great, Lucifer. He knows all things and does what is best for his children, even when His children do not understand His plan for them."

"God is gone, brother. Only I remain." Spurred on by the anger he felt, the anger he had drawn from Sam, Lucifer lunged, his blade flashing in the afternoon sunlight, sweeping toward Michael with deadly speed. No more words. The end was nigh.

Though it was Michael's destiny to defeat his younger brother, he was glad Lucifer had been the first to draw his blade. It would help soothe any sense of guilt he felt later to know that he'd had no choice but to defend himself. He raised his own sword to strike the other blade and force it away, almost effortlessly. There was no anger in him, only a desire to finish it once and for all. "You've grown slow in your captivity, brother. Your reflexes are not what they should be."

Slower he might be, but unlike Michael, Lucifer had learned to fight dirty. He knew how to use the muscle memory of his vessel, to use what Sam knew, and as his blade was forced aside, his fist came up, striking at his brother's face with a deafening thunderclap of sound. "Turn the other cheek, brother."

As that light flashed out from them, signalling the death of the Morning Star, the ground shook, the sky grew dark, the world mourning the passing of not one, but two archangels. For a single heartbeat, four entwined lives hung in the balance. Then, with shuddering abruptness, that bright light winked out, and Sam's body fell to the ground, dragging Ayden down with his sudden weight. Lucifer was gone, destroyed, and in dying, he had taken his vessel's life force with him, leaving Sam struggling for breath as he lay in his baby sister's arms. Ellen lunged forward to catch Dean as he crumpled, easing the elder Winchester to the ground beside his brother, both of them cradled in the arms of the people they loved.

Dean, too, fell as Michael's soul fled his body, dead or destroyed, he didn't know which, nor did he care. There was a certain amount of peace in knowing it was over, at least for them, though he wished he could have done it without spilling his own brother's blood. Even in death, he reached for his brother, bloody fingers grasping his sleeve, summoning the last of his strength to call for him in his last moments, "Sam..."

"Aw, Christ," Bobby muttered as he knelt down beside the two men who he thought of as his own. He couldn't have loved them more if they'd been his own flesh and blood, and though he understood the reasons for their deaths, it felt like someone had torn his heart from his chest and was ripping it to shreds. He glanced at Ellen, and for once, there were tears in the older man's eyes that he made no attempt to hide or deny.

There was no need to be strong, not anymore. All over the world, earthquakes ceased, floods drained away, storms died down. Chaos became order once more, leaving those who had been caught in it to reorder their lives, never knowing what had truly saved them. On a hill in a cemetery outside Lawrence, Kansas, two brothers lay dying, their last strength given over to a final farewell.

Ellen met Bobby's gaze, reaching to take his hand and hold on tight, her other arm curled about Dean where he lay against her thighs. She was crying, her promise not to let them see her tears forgotten in the wave of heartache that came with this final goodbye. "It's okay," she promised them both, bending to kiss first Sam, and then Dean. "We're here, babies. We ain't leavin' you."

Beside her, Ayden sobbed quietly, both her arms wrapped about Sam, soaked in the blood of their friend as she sniffled and tried not to whimper in the face of such a loss.

With his breath bubbling in his mouth, blood trickling free with each exhale, Sam's fingers found Dean's, interlocking despite the slick of their mingled blood. "Dean ..."

"I'm here, Sammy," Dean whispered weakly. "Always here, just like I promised..." He was vaguely aware of a familiar arm wrapped around him, of someone crying nearby, of the wet sticky feel of blood against his back. He could feel his life leaving him, as his own blood flowed like a river, but his own life wasn't important now. He was going home to Andrea and Lucas, and that thought made him smile a little, despite the grief of those around him. "Where's-where's Ay?" he asked, abruptly, remembering that his own arm had lifted against his will to almost cut her down. "Is she..." His voice faltered, weakening.

"I'm here," Ayden rushed to reassure him, hissing in apology as Sam groaned in pain at her inadvertent jostling of him where he lay. One hand reached across to rest over her brothers' joined hands, her tears falling unchecked to drip from her nose and chin. "I'm here, I'm fine. You saved me. Both of you, you saved all of us."

A pained grimace of a smile crossed Sam's face as he felt his little sister cover their linked hands, reaching up to curl his hand about Bobby's arm. "Take-take care of them ....for us ..." he croaked, his own voice barely more than a mumble in the quiet that surrounded them.

The light was quickly fading from Dean's eyes as he turned his gaze from Ellen to Bobby to Ayden and lastly to Sam. This dying wasn't such a bad thing. He'd died countless times before. It was leaving those you loved behind that was the hard part, and though he wished he could have saved his brother, there was a part of him that was happy he'd be going with him. "Gonna be one hell of a fireworks show, Sammy," Dean muttered, eyelids fluttered. Though neither Ellen or Bobby or Ayden might understand that reference, he smiled weakly, knowing his little brother would.

Even Bobby was crying silently now, grasping Ellen's hand hard to keep himself from breaking down. "You boys save a place for the rest of us, ya hear" This ain't good-bye. It's just see you later."

But Sam was already gone, the last light leaving his eyes as his soul took flight for the world of the invisible. There would be no resurrection this time, no deals made, no corners cut. The End of Days had come and gone, and with its leaving, it was taking the Winchester brothers with it. "Sammy?" Ayden whimpered softly, bending low to kiss her lifeless brother's forehead, her hand squeezing the joined fingers in her grasp. She had one last thing to say, before Dean was taken away, too. "I love you. I'll keep my promise."

A single tear rolled down Dean's cheek, as he realized his brother was already gone. "S'ok, Sam. I'm coming." He turned his dying eyes to Ayden, reaching to tangle his fingers with hers one last time. He didn't have to tell her to remember him or to keep her promise to lead a normal life. It was as if she had already read his thoughts and was ready to let him go. He smiled weakly up at his sister, his face drained of all color and close to death. "I know you will," he replied weakly, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Take care of each other," he pleaded one last time before closing his eyes and giving up the ghost to join his brother and all the others he loved who'd gone before him.

"Dean?" But he was gone, both of John and Mary's sons lying dead in the arms of the last family remaining to them on the living earth. As Ayden wailed, the weight of that loss hitting her, Ellen was there, her tears mingling with those of the little girl now in her arms as she said her last goodbyes to the men who had been like sons to her since she'd first met them. There had been a lot of bumps along the road, but finally, Dean and Sam had peace, together.

Bobby wrapped his two girls in his arms, his two boys already gone. There was nothing he could do for them now, but give them each a hunter's funeral - a hero's funeral - and pray for their souls. As far as he was concerned, Sam and Dean Winchester had been the bravest hunters who'd ever lived - braver than him, braver than their daddy, braver than anyone. They had made the ultimate sacrifice time and time again for each other, for their sister, for the world. If that wasn't what being a hero was all about, he didn't know what was. It was over at last, but the struggle to come to grips with their deaths had only begun.

Over the weeks, months, and years that followed, the pain of their loss did not grow any less, but the three who bore it learned to cope. Ayden graduated college, and decided to enter Stanford for her medical training, a nod to the brother who had wanted her to finish school and the brother who had attended that same university years before. Ellen and Bobby returned to their own lives, running their business, hunting when they were needed to, helping other hunters in their own way. They kept an eye on the youngest Winchester from a distance, not wanting to tempt her back into the supernatural way of life, proud of her in their own way for getting on with being normal. But they never forgot, any of them, the darkness of that quiet cemetery on the day that destiny had taken a nosedive at the hands of the bravest men they might ever have the privilege to know, binding them together for the lifetime that followed in memory of Dean and Sam Winchester, the unsung heroes of an age. ((Can we get a collective, "Aww?" And so ends our alternate ending to Supernatural, Season Five. It's been a long time coming, and I have to admit it's been one of the most gratifying SLs I've ever been involved in. I cannot thank my writing partner enough for her talented contribution, collaboration, and friendship. Though the AU back story is over, we still have a lot of catching up to do with Dean, Nimue, and the rest of the cast of characters, so stay tuned for more, coming soon!))