I do not own Supernatural or any of it's characters. I simply play with them.

*I was advised to proof read and make any corrections and changes to the text that may improve the story. I have improved my method of proofing by reading aloud to my daughter several times. I still do not have a bata reader so I make no promises. I hope that many of the spelling errors will be fixed and I intend a few changes to improve the story. Not overly large changes, but improvements I assure you.

CHAPTER 1

THE END

During the drive back to Bobby's Dean couldn't stop wondering what was happening to Sam. His mind wandered over every possibility, each one more horrible than the last. He had promised Sam he wouldn't try to open the door to save him and knew that under no circumstances could he break that promise and risk Lucifer rising in his perfect meat suit. Or would he? Was Sam alive? Was his soul even down there? Did Sam die when he fell into the pit and if so did his soul stay there or did it rise to heaven. That was the one possibility that wasn't horrible. Dean needed to know and asked Bobby if he knew any way of finding out.

"An oracle might be able to tell you." Bobby surprised him, "But it may not be a good idea to find out."

Bobby like most hunters believed oracles, were dangerous. Perhaps it was being a hunter that made knowing the future a bad deal. It was one thing to believe you were going to end young and bloody. It was another to know the time, date and details. But where is my dead brother should be a safe question, unless it was the wrong location. That could send Dean right over the edge. Suddenly Bobby wished he kept his mouth shut. But then again a spark of life came to Dean's blank eyes.

"Where is this oracle Bobby?" Dean asked ending Bobby's internal argument.

"Andover, Massachusetts." Bobby answered taking a seat beside Dean, "It's about a mile south of the town. Story has it that a small coven, in the early 1690's, built the temple in a cave then summoned the oracle. She didn't appreciate being disturbed, so the witch hunts reached Andover and every one of the coven was convicted and executed. When you consider of the hundred and fifty people charged with witchcraft only nineteen of the witches convicted in Salem town were ever executed. That every one of this coven were strung up is saying something. Anyway that's the legend. I have heard a couple of stories since, but the one you should remember Dean, is that after a hunter went to the cave he tried to seal it with dynamite. Failed of course, but I heard that from the guy who tried it. He wouldn't tell me why he did it but did say don't ask the question unless you know you can live with the answer. I know I'm the one that suggested it but think about it Dean. If the answer is bad can you live with that."

After only a few moment's thought Dean answered, "I don't have a choice Bobby. What ever it is I'll have to live with it. I promised Sam."

From Sioux Falls South Dakota to Andover Massachusetts was a thirty hour drive. Much to long with too much time to think but Lead Zeppelin blaring on the old sound system kept him going by day and a bottle of Jack Daniels brought him a few hours sleep at night. Dean had no expectations regarding the success of the trip. Only a mild hope that the answer he would receive might make it a little easier to live day to day. A very mild hope.

The entrance of the cave wasn't easy to find at night. It was well hidden by brush and the hill it was in wasn't much of a hill. It was almost dawn when he, grubby, scuffed and cursing, finely found it. He stood at the entrance a moment to consider if he wanted to risk loosing that tiny glimmer of hope but he knew the uncertainty would torment him now that he knew an answer was attainable. He ducked his head and took that first step. It wasn't far down and the passage was narrow. The evidence of pick and shove enlarging the space was unmistakeable. An axe or pick had been used to make the ceiling of the passage six feet high and the scoring in the walls indicated that it was not always two feet wide. He came to a small cave no more than ten feet underground. It's ceiling was all of eight feet high and a small hole let in what little light was cast by the moon.

Dean flashed the beam of his flashlight around finding a strange alter at the center of the cave and there were torches in the walls every few feet. Nothing else occupied the space. This alter had none of the usual signs of witchcraft. It looked more like something he or Sam might set up. He took a can of lighter fluid from his pocketed store of supernatural defensive weapons, doused a torch and lit it. Every torch in the room burst into flames. Dean dropped the flashlight and pulled out his automatic. After looking in every nook and cranny Dean satisfied himself that he was alone and put the pistol away. He did a close examination of the items on the strange alter and found what surprised him the most. Silver. Silver, candlesticks, patina, two incense burners and an ornate silver knife lay in careful arrangement on the little stone alter. The lack of familiarity was, in a fashion, comforting. There was no hint of the satanic which was something he did not want to deal with at this time. Dean lit the candles then poured incense in the burners and lit them. Next he emptied his canteen of wine into the patina, an ornate, shallow bowl set on foot high legs. He recited the summoning incantation he had written on parchment then burned it in a small silver tray beside the patina.

"You are a brave hunter to summon me." a strong feminine voice came for a shadowed corner.

Dean turned to find a young attractive girl in a simple floor length dress that simmered as she moved. Her pale skin had a sheen to it, her eyes were as penetrating as Castiel's and were a peculiar colour, of reddish brown like those of a dove. Though she had an Angelic air about here Dean would not make the mistake of thinking her harmless, after all, Angels were anything but harmless.

"Who are you?" Dean asked trying to sound casual.

"I am she whom you summoned," She replied with a grin.

"You're the oracle?" Dean returned.

She nodded by way of an answer and still smiling walked all around Dean looking him up and down in an analytical way that he was familiar with though, woman checking him out were never so blatant. It made him a little uncomfortable, after all, this lady wasn't looking for a good time. Maybe she was sizing him up for lunch.

"You are quite beautiful but that is to be expected considering your lineage." she said thoughtfully, "One of light, one of darkness. You think your soul is stained but why?" She paused and smiled with a slight head tilt that reminded Dean of Castiel, "It is still very pure, dear boy."

Dean didn't want to play this game but he was on her turf and he wanted something from her, so felt he had no choice and risked an honest answer, "In Hell I tortured people to save my own ass. I broke under torture and that started the beginning of the end. Lucifer's rise."

"What you do not understand is your spirit did not truly break. You retreated inside your mind. The hand that took the knife from Alastair belonged to a senseless drone who had no concept of right or wrong." She said with a sad smile.

"What?" Dean asked startled, "Do you mean I was crazy?"

"All that you are, the spirit, the soul that is Dean Winchester retreated into a hidden corner of your mind to escape Alastair leaving only a shell to carry on."

"How can I not remember something like that?" Dean stammered, "No, I do remember everything I did."

"Zachariah deduced that if you believed you were capable of such horrors while still rational you would be irreparably traumatized. That your spirit would be so completely crushed, you would say yes to Michael with little or no opposition. He removed any memory of your retreat from reality, of which there was little, while leaving the memories of what you did. You assumed you were fully cognoscente of what you were doing and that you took pleasure in it."

Dean desperately wanted to snatch up this offered absolution, to surrender any responsibility for his actions. To be free of the guilt and shame. To torture anyone for any reason had been disgusting to Dean before he went to hell and was no less so now. How sweet, to lift such a weight from his shoulders, but guilt was a habit he had learned early in life and didn't know how to break.

"But that was still me whether I remembered who I was nor not." Dean struggled for comprehension, "I was alright with the torture, I even enjoyed it." He whispered.

"No part of you remained within your conscious mind, dear boy. You were beyond all rational thought." She answered with quiet insistence, "What you remember as taking pleasure in giving pain was something far more convoluted."

"Can you give me back those memories?" Dean asked hoping to understand and believe.

"To understand what drove you to such measures you would have to remember the true horror of what you experienced? It was a form of madness, your mind was shattered." She warned and asked, "Do you truly wish to remember what made this so? Have you not suffered enough?"

Dean turned and walked away for fear the terror that now surged through him might show in his eyes. He longed to say he was sufficiently chastised for his crimes and leave it at that but he needed to know, to believe deep in his heart and soul that he wasn't responsible. Only then could he find any measure of peace.

Dean turned a determined and confident face to the oracle and answered, "I won't be able to answer that till I know what really happened."

She smiled and nodded as if she knew what his answer would be and touched his forehead.

Dean's mind was already so filled with his experience in hell, he was amazed by how much he had forgotten. In a nauseating rush the old memories became clearer, more detailed and new images flooded in. In his mind's eye Dean watched how over time he not only began to loose his ability to focus his mind and ride out the pain but the reason why he was enduring it became more and more abstract and difficult to hold on to. He began to anticipate each slice of Alistair's knife, the dread torturing him as much as the blade. He became angry with himself when he lost control over his body shivering and twitching and struggling to escape. Dean's torment escalated when Alastair began taking slices of his flesh and eating them before his eyes.

This was the beginning of his very clear decent into insanity. Hell and Alistair became his world, his reality. There was nothing beyond, never had been. Dean wished he could pull away and not look but there was no escaping now. He had told Sam he held out for thirty years but only now realized the enormity of that. Thirty years was longer than he'd been alive. The certain knowledge that he had broken had been hard to endure but seeing it, feeling it, knowing just how completely he had been destroyed, filled Dean with anguish and self loathing. As he began to truly comprehend what had happened to him he fell trembling to his knees with tears flowing unchecked from his tightly closed eyes.

At what point he succumbed to the torture was not defined but it was gradual like the slow sinking of a ship. He stopped fighting, stopped trying to resist the pain. He lay on the rack unable to distinguish his screams from others while tears slowly slipped from dazed eyes as Alastair carved and eat. The impulse to take Alistair's offer grew stronger as his hold on who he was and why he resisted began to fail until one day when he was offered the knife it didn't occur to him to say no. Everything he had been was gone and what remained decided that something in this nightmare world had to make sense and he would only find it by accepting what was. Once coming to this conclusion Alastair's offer became reasonable. Who was he to argue with the natural order of things? To deny himself the opportunity to evolve from meat to master would be absurd.

The oracle's worm gentle arms encircled him pulling him to her. Dean didn't have the strength to resist. As she rocked him, he cried as he had not since he was a small child in his mothers arms. Every painful sob was filled with the full measure of his grief. She offered no empty words of reassurance letting him feel his pain unencumbered. Dean didn't know how long he wept but by the time he fell silent he was too exhausted to do anything but lay in comfortable silence in the ladies rocking arms and marvel at how safe he felt there. He didn't want to give up this feeling quite yet but thoughts of how his failure lead to Sam's end forced their way to the surface.

"I gave up." Dean choked, "I betrayed everything I believe in, everything I am. I was becoming a demon. That's worse than worthless."

"You have powerful survival instincts Dean." she countered gently but firmly, "Rather than giving in to rage and hate and becoming a part of the evil that surrounded you, you hid all that you are deep inside yourself. If you had truly surrendered, your spirit would have been damaged, your soul stained and altering your memories would not have restored you. Believe me when I say no one could have endured."

"My father did." Dean couldn't stop himself from saying though he sounded like a grade schooler.

"No your father did not." She said with an extra squeeze, "Instead he contrived and deceived."

"Alastair said he held out for a hundred years." Dean stammered confused by her statement.

"You believed a demon who was trying to torment you? Truly Dean, you know better." she said giving him another squeeze, "If he never capitulated then how was it he was free of the rack and waiting at the gate when it opened? He was there unencumbered and able to help you. How is that possible?"

Dean managed to free himself enough to look up into the oracle's eyes and stammered, "Free, sane and …... but…. I don't get it."

"Your father did know your brother was intended to be a pawn of Hell." the oracle said after a brief pause, "The finer points he was unaware of including the part you were to play. He had no fear of shedding blood in hell but he was afraid of going mad and becoming a demon. One you could not defeat. My dear he knew that the strongest man will break under torture. Vietnam taught him this."

"My dad was tortured in Vietnam?" Dean asked stunned.

"He was not however, he did witness men he believed indestructible broken after only a few days. Your father was as arrogant a man as ever lived but he was not so foolish as to believe he could withstand an eternity of torture without succumbing. He endured until he felt his resolve beginning to slip, then decided to accept Alastair's offer rather than become a pawn of hell. Your father's portrayal of one turning evil was so convincing he gained enough freedom to make his way to the gate."

After a long stunned silence Dean found a flaw in her story.

"But didn't I break the seal?" He asked.

"Yes the seal had to be broken by a righteous man, which your father was not." she replied.

Pulling away from her, Dean demanded in an indignant temper, "My father sacrificed everything to fight evil and save people. How can he not be righteous? What do you call righteous?"

"He sacrificed everything, including his children, for vengeance sake. You were right when you told your brother the pursuit was completely selfish. Such self interest does not make a righteous man." The oracle countered.

"Sacrificed? He did his best to protect us. He taught us to fight and survive. He didn't want us to be weak and defenceless." Dean protested.

Dean knew there was some truth in what the oracle was saying about his father but he and Sam were the only ones allowed to say it. Well, maybe Bobby, but that was all.

"Dean your father wasn't there to protect you from the man who grabbed you in the park in Portland when you were ten." the oracle pointed out. "It was Wesley Allan Dodd. He had tortured, sexually abused and killed three boys and intended to make you his fourth. It was fortunate your gouging at his eyes caused such a commotion or he would have succeeded. Do you remember the van that followed you and Sam from school when you were thirteen. The men inside had plans to make you both pornographic movie actors. It was a distant siren that frightened them away not the pipe in your hand. And no one saved you from the teacher in junior high. Your father left you alone to be victimized by whatever evil happened upon you, human or supernatural. It is to your credit that you survived and kept your brother safe, not your father's."

Dean struggled for some response, a means to protect the one illusion he still held onto. That his father was a good man who did his best for them and did not fail. That he was worthy of the hero worship Dean had always so freely given. 'You don't understand' was the best he could come up with but let it go for it was obvious she knew him and his family frighteningly well. How did she know everything including what happened to his father in Hell?

Dean rose and began to gently pace about the cave in seemingly purposeful steps before turning to confront the still seated oracle, "How do you know? About me fine, all you have to do is read my mind. But my dad? How do you know about him?"

"When you enter my temple you bring with you all that is your live." she explained and rose to watch the interesting display of purposeful pacing, "You are a window into your entire world, all that has touched and may touch you. I may look at anything I wish. You are a fascination dear boy. I marvel that one so noble shares blood with two such vain, egocentric, men."

"You don't know them." Dean stopped his pacing and took several motivated steps toward her that would have intimidated anyone else. After a moments silence he said in a quiet determined voice, "You don't know them. You don't understand us."

"I do dear boy. I know their flaws and so do you." The oracle said with a smile and stood in front of him invading his personal space, "Yes they have their virtues, your brother in particular. If he were not so inclined to self pity he could be very noble."

"Okay, fine, my dad wasn't perfect and neither is Sam." Dean reluctantly admitted and stepped away to begin his pacing again, "So what, who is? Look at me, honestly, really look at me. Liar and thief extraordinaire. I'm a glutton, and womanizer. And angry? Sam talks about his anger, hell I'm rage on a stick. Whatever his faults were he doesn't deserve hell any more than I did. I can't think of too many people who do. I don't understand why any God who is supposed to be benevolent would create a place like that. Aside from Adolf Hitler and maybe a few serial murderer, rapist, types, no one deserves that. Tell me how could God create a place like that and how could Sam deserve it."

"Oh, Dean." the oracle smiled with charm, warmth and a tiny laugh, "Lying and thieving are tools of your trade. Without these skills and the willingness to use them many would die horribly. You are forgiven without a moments thought. As for your indulgences? You must understand in the final analysis the only question that matters is why. No one is condemned for trying to fill an empty cavern within themselves by indulging in food and carnal pleasures. Despite the elaborate tales you spin, you never promised any woman more than a night of passion and pleasure and that you gave in abundance. If you give what you promise and take only what you are due, no fault will be found." She raised her hand a moment her expression becoming thoughtful. "A small suggestion. The tales are quite unnecessary. Your looks and charm with a facsimile of what you truly do would fan the ladies interest quite well. And an expression of appreciation for a pleasant evening would elevate any hurt feeling over waking up alone." she offered a little counsel then became serious, "Dear boy, Hell was created as a place God was not. Nothing more. Like heaven and earth it is what it's residents have made of it. As for your brother, God did not condemn him. He sent himself there. Why do you think your brother more worthy to be saved than yourself?"

How did she know that, Dean wondered. How did she know everything. If one thing about her was curtain she wasn't human as most of the old Greek legends of oracles suggested but neither was she anything Dean could identify. Not a demon, that was curtain. She'd have given herself away by now and not an Angel because she was clearly an emotional creature with kindness and a sense of humour. So what was he dealing with? Till he could figure it out he would have to play her game.

"It's my job to save him. I failed." Dean forced himself to say, "I failed him, I failed my dad, I even failed Cas. I fail everybody so if someone is worth saving it isn't me."

"When you dragged your brother from the academy his one thought was to gratify his need for revenge. You knew this." the oracle said with a grin and a shake of her head bouncing, long, almost white locks. "You said it yourself that it was a selfish pursuit, one your father indulged in your entire life. Your father demanded you protect your brother at all costs convincing you his life was of greater value than yours. It instilled in you this lowly opinion of yourself but Dean you must take responsibility for yourself and toss aside the child of his cruel ways. Become the truly extraordinary being you are."

"I didn't come here to listen to you slam my family." Dean's temper flared and he stopped his pacing to lock eyes with her, "All I want to know is, is my brother suffering in hell. If you can tell me fine. If not I'll leave, no harm, no foul. Is that fair."

"Oh very fair, and to answer your question no you're brother is not in paradise." She answered without loosing the smile, "He is not on a rack as you were but he does suffer."

The news sent a jolt threw Dean like being hit by lightning. It had already been a week since Sam jumped into the pit. One week equaled approximately two and a half years in hell. What was going on? Was he at the mercy of the other demons or was he protected by being Lucifer's meat suit? Was one fate worse that the other? Maybe? Dean had little doubt that in time he would have become a demon and that was a fate he couldn't bare for Sam.

"Do you wish to save you're brother?"

"Can Sam be saved without freeing Lucifer?" Dean asked half-heartedly.

"You could step back in time to prevent Lucifer's rise."

"I tried going back in time." Dean sighed with regret, "It seems you can't change your destiny. I don't even believe in that destiny crap but I still couldn't change anything."

"Destiny does not exist." She stunned Dean, "The Angels believe in it because God knows all. From the day the world began he has known how it would end therefore they believe he has determined the path of all things. This is not so. God knows all because he can see every path into the future and knows which one you will choose." the oracle paused and smiled at the expression of amazement on Dean's face, "In your other journeys into the past you returned in you're present form. Under those circumstances you can not change the past but only be a part of it. I must release your soul and send it back to unite with your younger self. Then you will be able to alter your decisions and influence the choices of those around you. You may be able to save your brother and in doing so save the world much."

"How far back can you send me?" Dean asked intrigued.

"Seven years by it's most accurate measure."

"And what's in this for you." Dean knew it would not be free.

"When you are satisfied that I have given you a gift of great value, you must come back here and pay homage to me."

"Homage, what kind, what do you want?" Dean asked unsure of what he would be promising.

"That must be you're decision. If it is an obligation and not a gift it is worthless."

"This is to damned easy." Dean shook his head, "There has to be a catch. Everything has a price."

"Yes, you will have to make a sacrifice but not to me." The oracle warned.

"I don't get you and I have a sick feeling I don't want to, but explain anyway." Dean said with a growing sense of dread.

The oracle moved toward him in a slow gliding motion her satin like skin and shimmering dress catching the light, giving her an even more exotic appearance, like a Greek goddess. She stopped in front of him uncomfortably close but her smile was soft and pleasant.

"Understand Dean Winchester, you're pain can end soon. You can be in paradise free of all guilt and pain. You would be at peace."

"And Sam?" Dean asked though he doubted Heaven would give him peace, "Where would he be?"

"He would remain where he is till end of days returns." She answered with a sad smile, "That may not be for many millennia. His fate is clouded. Yours is much clearer. If you undertake this journey you will know many difficult years, will suffer in ways you did not before but you will have the opportunity to save your world and your brother and you will know a love pure and unconditional that will endure all trials. You will learn to love and trust as you never thought you could. This will be your reward for this choice."

Dean couldn't help but think he was missing something, something important, not that it mattered. There were two things he did see clearly. One was the opportunity to save Sam from the pit and the other was preventing the horror of the apocalypse. He had promised Sam he wouldn't try to save him and he wouldn't if there was any risk to the world. If he couldn't change anything else in the past there was one thing he wouldn't do. Make the deal. He would leave Sam dead and in Heaven if that was the best he could do. It would end any possibility of the apocalypse.

"Sure it sounds great but nothing is this easy. What am I not seeing?" Dean refused to rush in to this 'to good to be true' deal.

Her smile grew and was filled with warmth and delight as she stepped in closer. Her eyes were so intense and riveted on Dean he couldn't look away. Every word she spoke became fixed in his mind.

"Give yourself the credit you are due and you will find the source of your courage, your fortitude and your will." she pursued her train of thought not his, "With such virtues you would be amazed by what you can accomplish but you must demand the respect that is your due. Do this and be truthful with yourself, listen to yourself not your critics whoever they may be. The truth will be your most valuable weapon in your battle to save your family and the world. Believe you know it and use it fearlessly. In doing so you will find your salvation and spare the world much."

"Okay, that's great." Dean exclaimed with a gasping breath while ignoring the echoing in his head, "I can save Sam without damning the world but in all that where is the how?"

"I have told you." she smiled merrily but there was an unmistakable tease in her smile and in her eyes, "Appreciate your true worth and demand the respect of your brother."

"He does." Dean insisted, "He kept, trusting me, believing in me when I gave him every reason not to. So how can I save him with that."

"Go back and demand it of him years in the past." she answered, she took several steps away giving Dean time to process what she said, then turned to him again, "Your greatest weakness is your self loathing resulting from, harsh criticisms, a lack of praise and a burden of guilt that was not yours. It is damage you will find hard to undo but undo you must. Pursue your own healing. Your brother's anger and egocentricity is his failing. He must accept his poor beginnings and pardon if not forgive his father. The powerful lesson, "It could have been worse" must come sooner. Above all he must realize he is not your superior nor is he possessed of all the virtue he deems you lack. If he can accept this then the benefits of the other revelations will come sooner, and more will be realized before it is to late."

Dean stepped back and would have sat if a chair had been handy. There, all the problems of a life time for him and his brother solved and the world saved, just like that. Simple. SHE HAS GOT TO BE SHITTING ME!

"Let me get this straight. You think I should get over my daddy issues, go back in time to teach my brother to stop wallowing in self pity and get over himself and everything will be fine?" Dean demanded choking on the ludicrous suggestion, "You were never human were you? There is nothing simple about getting over any issues. It can take a life time of industrial strength therapy to do that. I can't solve my personal problems much less Sam's. Even if I could, do you really think it could change everything just like that."

"Your brother listening to you and believing in you would change a great deal especially if you believe in yourself." the oracle replied with great conviction, "No I have never been human. I was not born I was created eons ago. No I do not understand your issues. I only know that they are and what must be done to change the course of events."

In the short time Dean was in the temple he had learned so much he needed time to assimilate it all and put it in some kind of order. All the bits and pieces had to be identified, categorized as important or merely disturbing, and given it's do consideration before he could settle on any course of action. The dire consequences of not doing so was a hard lesson learned. One statement reverberated a little louder than the rest.

"Created eons ago?" he said hiding the touch of fear that gripped his heart, "You're an Angel."

"I am one of few left in the world as we once were. Damned to servitude on earth after our brethren were called back and their human forms taken from them." she replied with ease, "I was made oracle as punishment for my sins and yes dear boy they were great. However it was deemed that I could be saved. You will save me. He has seen it. Now you must choose, Dean Winchester."

The last time Sam's life hung in the balance Dean made a rash and impulsive decision that cost everyone much. Dean turned way from the mesmerizing influence of the oracle to collect his thoughts, to make a clear and considered choice. Was trusting an Angel any less dangerous than trusting a demon? Highly unlikely but there was one, no two that proved to be stand up. But where's the catch was the question that kept coming to him. There was always a catch and he finely asked what it was.

"I do not want you or your brothers soul." she made it clear, "Any homage you pay me is of your choosing and must be given in sincere gratitude."

"Did God tell you to do this?" Dean wasn't really clear on this point.

"He told me when omens of end of days abounded the lectus unus would come before me. If I had the wisdom to see it and the faith to act, my redemption would be at hand." she replied then said again. "You must choose."

"I'm going." Dean answered after a moments hesitation.

The oracle's smile became almost wicked as she said, "I knew you'd say that. Now prepare yourself. Faith will see you through this and the years to come."

"Faith in what?" Dean asked startled by the use of the word.

"Faith in he who cursed me to serve as oracle until I have seen the true worth and wonder that is mankind in one valiant and noble soul who shall through my intervention be God's chosen instrument. When the lectus unus has paid tribute to me I shall be free. I have waited for you a very long time Dean Winchester."

"Lectus unus, 'the chosen one'. You think that's me?" Dean was startled.

"End of days was at hand. Of all those who came only you posses the heart, the soul, and the body of a Quradu." she replied her eyes raised and her voice filled with joy, "The earth soaked in the blood of the innocent has cried out for the Jedi. I give it Dean Winchester."

She stepped up to the alter and took up the dagger than began to chant in a language Dean did not recognise in the least and he would recognize many even if he couldn't speak them. Then to his great disbelief she released the dagger and it flew into his chest. He looked at it then her in utter amazement before falling to his knees.

"Your spirit must be free." The oracle explained then threw her head back and laughed when Lucifer, wearing Sam, appeared in the temple, "There is nothing you can do here, brother. You are back in your cage till he comes." She addressed the apparition then returned to Dean. "Do not be afraid, he can only send his image to my temple, he can not lay hand upon you."

"Stop this." Lucifer commanded and pleaded at the same time, "He has the rings. Use them to free me and I will free you."

"I want nothing of the world you would create. He is our father's chosen instrument and there is nothing you can do to thwart him." She sneered at Lucifer then turned a wicked grin to Dean, "Visit me Dean Winchester. We will share a cup of wine and enjoy laughter at his expense."

Weak from blood loss Dean slid to the floor. Pain radiated through his chest with every movement, with every breath. For a moment he could see through the hole in the cave. The sun was rising painting a colourful mural across the sky. If it was the last thing he ever saw it wouldn't be so bad. Then again? Dean strained to look at the beautiful oracle instead. It was a scowling Lucifer that came into view, staring at him with a hate deeper and more malevolent than anything Dean had ever seen. Dean wondered how he could be on his way. As far as he could tell he was dieing but Lucifer was upset so maybe something was going right. What ever the case may be one fact was undeniable. Lucifer did not destroy the world.

Dean forced a smile on his face and said, "I win, so, I win."

"This is no triumph. You will regret this day, for the rest of your pathetic life. I curse you Dean Winchester." Lucifer said a smug grin on his face.

"All aberrations and defects, all impurities and corruption of your body and spirit shall arise and awaken the beast that is your true nature. In this befouled state you will be trapped in a war you can never win till I walk this earth again."

The last thing Dean saw, was Lucifer's satisfied grin, the last thing he heard was the curse. As Lucifer's face began to fade Dean could feel his life slipping away and all he could think of was 'I'm so sorry, I screwed up again.'

I hope you found this revised and corrected version of "Return To Go Chapter I The End" a more enjoyable read than the first. If you are a first time reader I thank you for your interest and ask you to leave a little note telling me what you thought of it. All comments and constructive criticism is welcome.