Image of Dean With Blue Eyes as Michael Im Supernatiral

Originally posted by jaredandjensen

Summary: Dean's not like himself when he returns home after being used as Michael's vessel but when he finally opens up, he shares some information that will affect them all…

Pairing: Dean x reader (with Michael!Dean)

Word Count: 5,000ish

Warnings: language, angst, kidnapping

A/N: I so wished this show hadn't screwed up Michael!Dean. He could have been SUCH a terrifying villain if they'd treated him properly and not given him such a crappy end…

______

"How's he doing?" asked Sam. You stared blankly at the empty shot of bourbon in front of you and poured a refill, swigging it down before Sam stole the bottle away.

"I was drinking that," you said.

"Who was it that instituted the rule that we only drink when we're having fun or celebrating? Not to drown our crap out. Who was that?" said Sam.

"He won't talk to me. He won't talk. He walked in that bedroom and shut the door," you said.

"He's dealing with shit and we both know he'd rather have you be the one that does this. If you're too busy getting drunk though-"

"Fuck you, Sam," you said, sniffling as you stood up. You made a face and went to move past him, Sam catching you and pulling you into his chest. You cried for a moment, Sam kissing the top of your head until you'd calmed down. "Sorry."

"How many times do I have to tell you, it wasn't your fault. Dean said yes to save both of us," he said.

"Michael hurt him. He must have," you said. "Dean won't talk to me."

"Yes, he will. Go try and if it doesn't work, come get me and we'll do this together. Try for me please, Y/N," said Sam. "I know he wants you."

You nodded and took a deep breath. After a moment you were standing outside your bedroom door, debating knocking when you instead pushed the door open. Dean was sat on the edge of the bed, his suit vest and dress shirt thrown on the floor. He was staring blankly at the wall, glancing away from your direction as you shut the door.

"Hey," you said. He didn't say anything and you carefully stepped over in front of him. He shut his eyes and you knelt down in front of him, grabbing one of his hands. There were bruises you didn't see from earlier and you swallowed. "Did Michael do this?"

He nodded slowly, still not looking at you. You pursed your lips and stood up.

"Go take a shower for me and then I'll clean up whatever I need to, okay baby?" you asked. He didn't agree but he did leave. Fifteen minutes later he came back in his pajama pants and a black t shirt, sitting in the same spot.

You wrapped up his wrists for him, putting a little cream on to help with the ache you suspected was there. He let you lift up his arms and check him over, spotting a few more random bruises. It was strange. Archangels shouldn't be able to be hurt like that.

"Are you hungry?"

He shook his head, staring at the floor, digging his toes into the hard surface. You frowned and sat down next to him. You set a hand in his lap, opened up for him to rest his own in. He kept his hands to himself though, pulling them up to his chest.

"If you never want to talk to me again, that's okay. Just know that I'm not going to hurt you," you said.

"I know," he said quietly. He put a hand over yours, allowing you to lace your fingers together. "I'm…"

"It's okay, De."

"Michael didn't let me talk," he said. He finally turned to you, a pained expression in his eyes. "I've been to Hell and tortured and all of it. But Michael was…in me. Everywhere. Hell, they rip you apart. Michael…he rips your head apart. I couldn't even breathe."

"Is that where the bruises came from?" you asked. Dean closed his eyes and sighed.

"He controlled my body. He could hurt it, hurt me, without feeling any pain or have it be an inconvenience to him if you get what I mean," said Dean.

"Did he hurt you a lot?" you asked. You knew that was pushing things. Dean didn't talk about stuff like that unless he wanted to and you fully expected him to clam back up.

Dean starting to shake and cry was the last thing you were expecting.

"Baby," you said, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him into the middle of the bed. "It's okay, you're safe. Dean, he's gone."

"No he's not," said Dean, gripping onto you tight. "He's like all powerful and he…he made a new vessel right before he left. He made a copy of me and he popped right in there. He wanted me to know it. He said even if he's not with me, he always…owns me."

"Nobody owns you, Dean. Nobody," you said. He didn't nod but he didn't disagree either which was a win for right now. You held onto him as he rested his chin on your shoulder, quickly calming down as you rubbed his back.

You assumed Michael was in search for a new vessel but if he had a carbon copy of his perfect one, you only imagined he was up to no good.

"Y/N," said Dean. "Can we go to bed? I haven't slept in forever."

"Yeah. Of course. I'll get your favorite blanket and we'll call it an early night."

"What the fuck do you mean Michael is still walking around wearing Dean's face?" said Sam the next morning at breakfast.

"I mean the dick of an archangel made a copy of Dean and popped into him. He is kinda super powerful, Sammy. He can bring people back to life. It's not too much stretch of the imagination to think he could figure out how to make an empty meat suit," you said.

"But why?"

"Because I'm his perfect vessel. He's strongest in me so it makes sense why he'd want to stay in that body," said Dean as he wandered in. "Also, my chick flick moment has passed so-"

"We are so beyond you pretending you don't have feelings so just stop it, would you?" you said. Dean stared at you like deer in the headlights, Sam cocking his head.

"Dean, you okay?" asked Sam.

Dean looked around, going to the still hot stove. He put his hand on the burned and you instantly ran over, Dean pulling it away quickly.

"Fuck," he said, shoving it under some cold water. "Okay, real. Very real."

"Did…did you think this wasn't…real?" you asked.

"He's tricked me before but I figured out pretty quick how to tell the difference. I figured it was but I had to be sure," said Dean, hitting the water off and wiping his hand off. You shook your head and Sam ran a hand through his hair. "I'm fine. So you got any leads on Michael?"

"No. I think the best thing right now is for you to get your feet under you. You were gone for three months," said Sam.

"Three months?" asked Dean. "That's…it?"

"How long-"

"A year, maybe more," said Dean. "There was no way for me to keep track of time."

"Either way," you said, looking over to Sam, "You need to rest up. Please. For Sam and me."

Dean frowned but nodded after a moment. He grabbed the plate of bacon on the counter and took a seat at the table, smiling as he dug in. You set a glass of orange juice down for him, Dean pointing towards the coffee machine. Two minutes later you had a cup in front of him, Dean giving you a thumbs up. You followed Sam out to the hall, Sam glancing back at the kitchen.

"I don't think we should leave him alone," said Sam. "He put his hand on a hot burner."

"It wasn't that hot and can you blame him? Didn't you use to squeeze your scar to tell what was real and what wasn't?" you asked.

"That was…I've never seen him like this."

"Me either. Whatever Michael did, he hurt him down to his soul. Or worse," you said.

"I will look into this twin Michael Dean out there and maybe you can help him get back to his old self?" asked Sam. "Maybe take him on an easy hunt when he's up to it?"

"Find Michael and fast. I have a feeling Dean isn't going to tell me anything more about what went down and I want that psycho dead or locked up and yesterday," you said.

"Agreed. We'll get him, just like we got Dean back. I promise."

"Dean," you hummed, flipping through a cookbook that evening. "What would you like for dinner?"

"Pie," he said. You smiled, giving him a hug from where he was sat at the counter working on his laptop.

"I will run out and pick you up one then, cutie," you said, kissing him gently. He returned it with a soft smile and you smushed your cheek against his. "Missed you."

"Missed you too, sweetheart. I was thinking maybe we could order a meat lover's pizza and some wings from Tony's?" he asked. "The friday night usual?"

"I have not had our friday night usual in months and that sounds amazing. You want to order and I can head out to get the pie and then pick up the pizza?" you asked.

"Blueberry if they have it?" he said.

"Blueberry it is. I'll be back in an hour, babe."

"Hello," you heard as you walked past the alley next to Tony's, pizza box and bag in hand. You ignored the creep and headed for your car.

Until you were suddenly no longer on the sidewalk and were staring down the alley, your pizza and bag on the ground behind you. You pulled out your angel blade, feeling it be tossed aside as a shadowy figure stepped out into the light.

"Dean?" you said, scrunching up your face. He cocked his head, a three piece suit, long coat and tweed cap on him. "Michael."

"Y/N. Pleased to make your acquaintance. Dean often thought of you. You were his…happy place," said Michael. You planted your feet, Michael looking you up and down. "Really?"

"I'm not giving up without a fight," you said. He hummed and snapped his fingers. Suddenly you were in the front hallway of a very, very nice house.

"Suitable?" he asked.

"Okay, angel dick. What-"

You stopped talking when you felt your arms suddenly bare. Glancing down you spotted yourself in a very pretty and elegant blue dress.

"And we're walking…" said Michael. He turned and started to walk away, your feet following after him.

"Hey! Stop-" you said before your mouth snapped shut.

"Shh. You're to be seen and not heard right now," he said. You growled at him and he chuckled. "Dean was right. You are feisty."

You wanted to make another sound but not a peep came out. Your face was forced to relax into an easy smile as you followed Michael into a room occupied by a few men and women.

"Well now that we're all here, let's get down to business," said Michael. You wound up sitting in the corner of a couch, Michael settling in beside you and pouring himself a scotch.

"Y/N Y/L/N," said a woman you didn't recognize. She stood up and cocked her head at you, her eyes going a bright green. "What a delicious treat you brought."

"Make one move towards her and it will be the last thing you and your pack does. She's no longer with the humans," said Michael. "She's decided to…choose her battles."

"Michael's correct," you heard come out of your mouth before it snapped shut again.

God, you were going to kill him for this.

"So. Have you thought anymore of my proposal?" he asked.

"I didn't realize you were working with hunters," said a man.

"Just because she's here doesn't mean she chooses to be. Everyone should have a pet," he said. "Be a dear and let's have you stop breathing now."

Suddenly you couldn't suck in a breath, Michael ignoring your look of anger.

"Don't worry, little one. Now, the offer," said Michael.

"Our pack wants the North," said the woman from before.

"So does ours," said a different man.

"I do not care. Settle your disputes yourselves. Are you in or out?" asked Michael.

"I'm not risking my pack on the off chance-"

"Then I have your answer," said Michael. "And know where your loyalties lie."

"That's not-"

"He always was sympathetic to the humans," mumbled someone.

"Well we can't have any of that here," said Michael. "Can we?"

"I very much agree," said the woman who apparently also wanted a place up in the North. You missed part of the conversation as your hands clawed at your throat.

Michael twirled his finger and you sucked in a gasp, taking a deep panting breath. He leaned over as the monsters started to argue.

"Sit there quietly and I won't do that again," he said. You shot him a dirty look but didn't do anything besides rub your neck. "My time is valuable to me and you all are testing my patience."

There were agreeances aside from the one now dead werewolf in the room. Michael smiled and headed out, your feet once again following after. Out in the hallway, you felt the space shift and you were in a different home, one with grand dark wood hallways. Your dress was gone, a pair of navy shorts you normally slept in and a tank top now on you.

The house wasn't warm and you frowned as you followed Michael down a set of stairs and around a landing, down some more until you were walking on hardwood. He hummed and kept going through the finished basement, walking to a door and opening it, going through an unfinished storage area. He went back through another door, this one heavy and metal. He waved his hand and you walked ahead of him, swallowing as you breathed in cool damp dirt.

"Up, he said, your leg raising and stepping over something. The other did the same and then you were sitting and laying down on the cold thing. "Have we figured it out yet?"

"Malek box," you said quietly. He smiled as he stepped into the light, resting his hand on the lid.

"Very good. I'm going to close this and then this little space is going to fill up with earth and then you're going to sit here and think very hard of a very good reason why I should consider not keeping you in here forever. How's that sound?" he asked. "I know being buried alive is one of those primal fears you humans have."

"Go fuck yourself," you said.

"Manners," he said, slamming the lid shut. The air felt thick after a moment and you scraped your fingers on the inside.

"Michael?" you said. There was no answer and you sighed.

You'd been through worse. You could get through this too.

"Well hello," you heard long after you'd gotten used to the silence. Something creaked and you saw a little bit of light, Michael standing there. You immediately sat up, his hands on your arms. "Did you come up with a good reason?"

"The Winchesters are going to kick your ass if-"

"Back we go. That was only an hour. Or was it?" he smirked. Next thing you knew, you were back in the box in the dark.

"Let me out!" you shouted, slamming your fist against the lid. "Michael! Let me go!"

Your fingers hurt after awhile and you knew more than one of them was bleeding. But it was something to break up the nothing in the darkness. Your voice was gone after you'd shouted it away. Every inch of skin was cold and you'd already cried as much as you possibly could have.

Michael didn't come back this time.

He probably wasn't coming back.

Ever.

So you laid there and tried to get the pain in your hands to go away, tried to not panic again.

You had a feeling that would only last so long.

"Good afternoon, little one," was sang to you. You squeezed your eyes shut and stayed still. "It hasn't even been a day."

You didn't move and he reached inside, resting a hand on your head.

"So. How are we feeling?"

You opened your mouth to speak but it was dry and the words were caught in your throat. You peeled open an eye and nodded.

"Alright then," he said as he stepped aside. You sat up and stared at him, carefully moving a sore leg over the side and then the other. You climbed out and fell straight to the floor, Michael sighing. "Pathetic creatures you are."

He grabbed your arm and yanked you up, mostly carrying you back up to the main hallway of the house. He dropped you on the ground before he wandered off, probably deciding you were no threat to him.

"If you can't keep up, little one, we can always go back to option A," he said from around the corner.

"You try walking," you croaked out. He was suddenly right in front of you, tilting your chin up.

"Option A it-"

"No," you said, pushing him away. "No."

"Then get up."

You got up to your feet for a moment before they got unsteady and you fell over hard.

"Good," he said. He grabbed your waist and threw you over his shoulder like nothing. You were too tired to do anything so you hung there, Michael humming as he went down another hall.

He plopped you down on a hard floor, letting you get your bearings and find that you were in a bedroom.

"Behaving and cooperation gets you things. Trying to kill me, for example, will not. You'll go back in the box, understand?" he asked.

"Yes," you said dryly.

"Would you like to try that again?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"It ain't gonna get nicer than that," you said. "Dick."

He smirked as he knelt down beside you. You took a deep breath, expecting to wind up back in the box.

"Dean had many memories of you, memories I now have. I know all about you. I know exactly what your parents did to you. Now, we can have a relationship like that or something more civil. Your choice," he said.

You glanced down at your lap, Michael tsking you. You nodded and he patted your cheek roughly.

"What do you want?" you asked as he stood.

"For now I will settle for you not trying to kill me. Go clean yourself up. There are clothes in the closet," he said as he went to the door. "I would not attempt to leave the building. It would be unpleasant."

He closed the door as he left and you sighed, tucking your knees up to your chest.

"Guys, come find me. Please."

"I was under the impression it did not take humans two hours to bathe," said Michael when you found him sat at a table, reading a newspaper.

"I was dirty," you mumbled, shrugging in your zip up. He hummed and nodded to the seat next to him, staring at you until you sat in it.

"Give me your wrist," he said. You closed your eyes and set it on the table, Michael grabbing it and turning it over. "Watch me."

You blinked them open, Michael making a small cut across your skin with a flick of his finger. He stared at you as he curled his finger up, a black cloud of smoke coming up from your wrist.

"How…" you said as you watched him pull it away, the smoke burning off. He set his hand over it and healed the skin, allowing you to reach it back to your chest quickly. "You-"

"Archangel. I can do a few things," he smirked.

"Why would you get rid of a curse on me?" you asked.

"You despise your parents. You murdered them, understandably so. I would like to murder my father," he said, standing up and pausing behind you, resting his hands on your shoulders. He leaned down, brushing his lips over your ear. "We're more similar than you think, little one."

"You're a mass murderer," you said.

"Takes one to know one," he said.

"I have never killed an innocent person or monster," you said, snapping your head back at him.

"Y/N. In the world I come from, Dean Winchester, none of the Winchesters, exist. Do you know who my true vessel was in that world? There was this girl, a fighter. Self-taught when the monsters ran rampant. Always a bit of a loner but sweet. Except for the fact that this girl killed her parents when she was eighteen. She'd been running for years and years. It made this otherwise sweet girl not so sweet sometimes. Midway through the apocalypse over there, I introduced myself. She was…feisty and sassy and angry and there was something a little bit off inside. We became partners you see. She was my true vessel. She was very intelligent, great company. She was really just a great girl. Sadly I was cast out and her body destroyed before I could get back in. She was my world's version of you, Y/N. I know you are different but I know at your core, you're the same."

"Don't you have your true vessel?" you mumbled.

"Oh, I'm not leaving this suit ever. It's perfect and there's no crying Dean inside," he said. You glared at him but Michael only smiled. "What I long for is my partner back. We won't make the same mistakes we did back then."

"Michael," you said, looking up at him as he walked around the table. "I'm not her. Whoever she was, she's gone."

"I am not an idiot. I know that," he snapped. He walked behind you and rested his hand on your head. "But you are similar. I've never cared for any human besides her. I believe with the right…attitude adjustment, you will choose the right path."

"You loved her, didn't you?" you asked.

He shoved your head as he walked away, going to the counter and pouring himself a drink.

"You miss her," you said as you stood up. "Now it makes sense why you haven't killed me."

"As you said, you're not her," he said, an angel blade dropping from his sleeve. You backed up, Michael right on you until you hit a wall. He raised his blade, glaring at you.

"You can understand then why I hate you so much. You hurt Dean," you said.

"I never said that you shouldn't be angry with me."

"Why on earth would you ever think I would work with you then?"

"Because there is a greater enemy out there and we both know it," said Michael.

"Talk about daddy issues," you said. Michael grabbed your neck, giving it a not too gentle squeeze.

"Work with me or I will make his life Hell. I can always get another box and that one will not be opening," he said.

"I don't take well to threats," you gritted out. "Let go."

He dropped his hand and you sucked in air, Michael pinning you back with his arm.

"You help me with destroying my father and maybe I leave him alone," said Michael.

"Fine," you said, pushing him away. "Psycho."

"You were not the only one with a poor childhood," he growled.

"I didn't use it as an excuse to grow up and hurt innocent people," you shot back.

"You had other examples. I didn't. I am far kinder than I have any right to be."

"You're-"

"I'm what," he said, getting right in your face, so close his nose was touching yours. "I'm what exactly? Go on."

You swallowed, Michael's eyes glowing blue as they narrowed at you.

"You're allowed to be angry at your father," you said. His eyes returned to Dean's normal shade of green but they were confused, Michael inching his face back. "If he hurt you, you're allowed to be angry for that Michael. Destroying the world though, you don't have an excuse to do that."

"He created it. He left it, he left all of them. I will destroy each and every one of his precious little drafts until-"

"He doesn't care about us any more than he did you," you said. Michael stepped away and stood by the window, looking out at a well-kept backyard. "Be better than him."

"Shut your mouth," he said. You were instantly back in the bedroom, the window and door seemingly gone. You went to sigh but your lips wouldn't part. You stepped into the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror, trying your hardest but it didn't budge.

Well shit.

A day later you were laying in the bed, throat dry and scratchy. You were so thirsty. God were you so thirsty.

"Little one," said Michael. You rolled over on the bed, putting your back to him. "Y/N."

Your throat was no longer dry and you opened your jaw, taking a deep breath. The bed dipped on the other side and you felt his hand touch the back of your neck.

All of a sudden you were in the rain, Michael's hands on your shoulders. You looked around and spotted Baby, gaze going to a lit up dinner and seeing Dean eating a burger inside.

"Wait," said Michael as you tried to step forward. "You may say your goodbye to him and then you will return."

"I am not-"

"Say goodbye and then I expect you to return. Or else," said Michael.

"I can't," you said.

"Why?"

"I'm crying. He'd know something is wrong," you said. "I'm assuming you don't want him to know that."

"For the sake of the Y/N I knew, I will make you a deal," he said. "You may return if when I call on you again, you answer."

"Why would you do that?"

"I have a greater enemy than you," he said. "For the moment, a truce. If however you say a word of this, I will slaughter you all."

"How will you-" you said before you felt his hands off of you. You spun around, Michael gone. You threw your head back and smiled.

You took a moment to wipe off your face and try to think of something believable to tell Dean. You could say a monster took you. It wasn't a lie even. It was the best excuse you had to keep him safe from Michael.

You walked across the street, Dean walking out to Baby as you got to the parking lot. He fished in his pocket for his keys, accidentally dropping them on the ground. He bent over to pick them up, freezing halfway when he saw you.

"Hey," you said with a soft smile.

"Y/N?" he asked.

"Since been a few days," you said, closing your eyes. "Sorry about the pizza."

He rushed over and wrapped you up in a hug.

"You should test me," you said, burrowing your face in his shoulder.

"I know it's you," he said, kissing the top of your head. He peeled off his jacket and put you in it, walking you over to the passenger side of Baby before he slipped behind the wheel. "What happened? You were just gone."

"I got jumped by a witch on my way home from the pizza. I killed his partner a while back, solo hunt. He wanted revenge so he kidnapped me. On the plus side, that horrible curse I had stuck on me is gone," you said.

"The purgatory one?" asked Dean.

"When I die, I won't go there now," you said. "The witch had to remove it in order to put whatever bad one they were trying to put on me. I managed to kill him and escape. Been trying to make my way home since."

"A witch?" said Dean. You could see it on his face that he didn't believe you. "Must have had one hell of a revenge plan. Let's get you home and cleaned up. I'm sure you're exhausted."

He turned on Baby's engine as you stared at him. He gave you a small nod as he fiddled with the radio. You reached over and touched his hand. He quickly drew a letter on the back of your own with his finger.

M?

You nodded, Dean giving you a sad smile.

"Want anything for the road? Burger?" he asked.

"I could go for some fries quick," you said.

"Alright. Back in a minute," he said, leaning over and kissing you. He skirted out of the car and into the diner. The air shifted behind you and soon you felt Michael's breath on the back of your neck.

"How's it going?"

"You have to give me more than a few minutes," you said.

"Tomorrow. 8pm. Lebanon park," he said before the air felt light again. You sighed and before you knew it, Dean was back.

"Everything okay?" asked Dean.

"Yeah. Never better," you said, reaching over to hold his hand.

"It'll be okay, sweetheart. I promise."

________

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Source: https://luci-in-trenchcoats.tumblr.com/post/681550503727988736/michaels-suit

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