Chapter 87 - Put That Win In the Loss Column

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Tarsa

Tarsa watched out the window with trepidation. This was the single most important moment in his 10,000 years of existence. Waiting to see if this would succeed or fail was about the hardest thing he had ever done. Every moment seemed like a lifetime. He had his wife by his side. They would continue or perish together.

When the white light rose from the ground he grabbed Mellona's hand and watched as the lightning began striking all over the surface. Then the white light reached them and their own personal world began to quiver and shake. Things were knocked to the floor, people could be heard screaming. Tarsa and Mellona held onto each other, waiting breathlessly until they knew their own fate. Then they heard it. HE was roaring, so loud it could be heard all over their world. The roaring turned into screams, deep, low-voiced screams, and finally into curses. For five full minutes HE roared and cursed and bellowed, until finally it stopped, and the shaking stopped as well.

When that had subsided there was a long moment of total silence and then cheers went up. Tarsa gently set aside his wife, knowing he was the one who was going to have to check HIS chambers to make sure it had really happened, that HE was finally gone. Slowly, tentatively he walked through the halls to HIS chamber. There was no need to go any further. The chamber doors were blown out as if by an explosion. The room was full of swirling black smoke, the tell-tale aftereffect of scattering. It was true. HE was gone. Life as they knew and hated it was gone, and a whole new era was beginning.

He hurried back to his own chambers, through crowds of cheers, grabbed Mellona and kissed her. "We are saved," he whispered. "We are free. Our children are free."

But now his thoughts turned to Sam and Dean, and why they weren't back yet. He hoped they were okay but was beginning to fear they were not. Otherwise, why weren't they here yet? There was plenty of time since the events began for them to return. He took Mellona's hand and went to sit in the place where they would appear when, or if, they did.

Finally, after a long and worry-filled length of time, Sam appeared alone and looking dejected.

Tarsa jumped up yelling "Sam! What… where's Dean?"

Sam had tears in his eyes and a hollow look about him in general. He reached around until he found a chair and sat down slowly.

"Sam," said Tarsa, concern evident in his voice. "Is he… Dead?

Sam looked at Tarsa, remembering…..

Sam and Dean

Sam froze in place, wondering if what he thought he'd heard had just been his imagination. But no, there it was again, a faint whisper, calling his name. "Sammy."

He turned around slowly and looked at his brother lying on the ground. As he stared he was sure he saw Dean's lips tremble. Yes, there, he did see it. He moved toward Dean, his heart thumping in his chest. "Dean?" he asked, tentatively.

"Sammy," said Dean, licking his lips. Sam scrambled down to hold Dean once again, hoping, but barely believing that somehow he wasn't dead after all. Maybe his wretched Mark of Cain had been able to save him.

As he held his brother in his arms, Dean licked his lips and slowly opened his eyes. Sam gasped, another kind of disbelief filling him with dread. He wanted his brother alive, yes, but did he want him like this?

"Dean," Sam said again with panic in his eyes. "Are you... alive?"

Dean pushed himself away from Sam and stood up. He gave himself the once over, brushing dirt off his clothing. "What kind of question is that? Of course I'm alive, I'm standing here aren't I? I've never felt more alive, Sammy. I feel awesome. Better than awesome."

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