Title: I’ll find you in the morning sun
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Kahal and Fain
Warnings: spoilers for aired season 5; future!fic AU
Pairings: none stated
Point of view: third
Prompt: Ben dressing up like Dean
When the sun went black, Mom packed only the essentials and said they had to leave.
As they drove from Cicero, one van amongst thousands trying to leave, Ben asked, “Mom, what’s going on?” He’d seen the gun she slipped in with their supplies.
She said, “We have to keep moving. We’re goin’ to South Dakota.”
They got separated just inside South Dakota’s border, when a mob attacked them for their food. The van had long since run out of gas and Ben hadn’t seen the sun in three weeks.
“Run!” Mom screamed. “Ben, get out of here!”
She shot into the rabid crowd until the gun was pulled from her hands, and Ben tried to get to her, yelling, “Mom! Mom!”
When some of them turned to him, he fled, hating himself for it.
Mom had told him the way to Bobby Singer’s house. She said friends would be there, people who knew how to survive.
“You remember those men who saved you?” Mom had asked, reloading the gun. “From your eighth birthday?”
Ben had nodded. He’d hoped for months after that incident, dreamed that Dean came back and lived with them, told Ben he was his father.
“Dean said that if something ever happened, go to Bobby Singer,” Mom explained.
When he got to the house, it was empty. It smelled like smoke and blood and had been ransacked. Ben fell to his knees and cried.
There was nowhere else to go, though. If Mom escaped, she’d head for Bobby Singer’s.
So Ben stayed.
Months passed. The house didn’t have electricity or running water, but there was a well out back. People were few and far between, but animals wandered through daily. Ben found a cache of guns and hunted.
He lost track of the days, but winter settled in and then spring. He’d read all the books Bobby had in English and actually taught himself some Japanese.
Then the thing that looked like Dean but wasn’t materialized in the kitchen and Ben grabbed a revolver off the table.
“Ben Braedon,” the thing said. “We have need of you.”
Ben stared at it. He knew it wasn’t Dean—it looked like him and sounded like him, but it stood wrong, like its skin was too small.
“Who are you?” he asked, cocking the gun. “What are you?”
He’d seen lots of monsters since the sun turned black. He remembered what Dean saved him from when he was a kid.
“I am Michael the Archangel,” the thing said. “Heaven requires your aid.”
Thunder boomed, shaking the house, and something in Sam’s skin stood in the kitchen, too. Ben’s memories of Sam were hazier; all he could really recall was how big Sam had been.
“No, brother,” the Sam look-alike said. “I claim the boy.”
Michael glared and the air glimmered around him. “You have no place here, brother,” he hissed, snarling the last word. “The boy is son of my vessel and my claim is unshakable.”
The fake-Sam sneered. “Your claim is as weak as your vessel.”
Ben closed his eyes and his mind raced. Bobby’s notes had been clear: if Dean’s body housed Michael, then Sam could only be one entity, and Ben could barely handle the basest of spirits. He couldn’t hope to battle Michael or Lucifer, let alone both.
He remembered Dean, loud and kind and so very alive. Ben had dressed like him for months after he left, had swaggered like him, had talked like him. He’d wanted to be Dean.
The two body-thieves were still arguing when Ben tuned back in and he was fucking done.
“Shut the fuck up!” he roared and in shock they actually did. “I’m not going with either of you,” he said, looking at the both. “I’m staying right here and waiting for my mom.”
“Lisa Braedon died seven months ago,” Michael told him.
Ben sucked in a breath and bowed his head. The gun sagged down.
Lucifer stepped toward him. “We can rebuild the world together, Ben,” the Prince of Lies told him. “I can give you back your mother. With you at my side, we can even take back your father from Michael’s grasp.”
Michael scoffed. “Begone, Lucifer,” he commanded. “The boy has been mine since his conception.”
“No,” Ben whispered. “Fuck you both.” He looked up, raising the gun. “I’m tired of your war. This is our world, and those aren’t your bodies. Get the fuck out of them and go away.”
They stared at him, lying with their very faces. “You have courage,” Michael said. “Few would dare speak to us so.”
“You,” Lucifer purred, stepping too close. Ben glared up at him. “You are your father’s son, Benjamin Isaac Braedon.” He reached out and Ben jerked away, smacking his arm with the gun.
“Do not touch him,” Michael growled, hurrying across the room.
Ben took a deep breath, comprehension blooming. “Oh,” he breathed. “They had to let you in. But they won’t let you kill each other.”
As one they faced him and he said, “They’re still there.”
Lucifer leaned calmly against the wall while Michael paced. Ben sat in Bobby’s recliner and asked, “Why is the sun gone?”
“It’s not,” Lucifer replied. “I blocked the light from human eyes, but it still nourishes the Earth beneath your feet.”
“So,” Ben said, “why haven’t you guys unblocked it?” He raised a brow when Michael glanced at him.
“We’ve had other concerns,” the archangel told him.
“Other concerns?” Ben echoed in disbelief. “Wow, Dean’s gotta be pissed in there.”
Lucifer chuckled. “Join me, Ben,” he said, taking two steps forward and kneeling by Ben’s side. “We can free your father, return your mother to life, and refashion the world as we want.” His stolen expression was earnest.
Ben looked in his uncle’s bright green eyes and said simply, “No.”
Ben went to sleep, ignoring Lucifer’s stony silence and Michael’s pensive patience. He dreamt of his mother, covered in blood and crying.
He woke angry and weary and went downstairs to yell at both the fucking angels. They stood as he stormed in, and he stopped where he could see both their faces. “I won’t help either of you,” he bit out. “Leave me alone.”
“This won’t end until either I or my brother has been destroyed,” Lucifer told him. “When you decide, call my name.” Nodding to Michael, he vanished with booming thunder.
Michael said, “His every word is a lie.”
Ben shrugged. “Maybe if I had sunlight, I’d care.”
Saying nothing else, Michael left in rushing wings.
Finally alone again, Ben collapsed into Bobby’s chair and squeezed his eyes closed to keep from weeping.
It wasn’t until he started supper that Ben realized what he had to do. Sam wouldn’t let Lucifer kill Dean, but Ben? He was probably fair game, and then the war would be over. Maybe. He really hoped.
“Michael!” he called, standing on the front porch. “Michael, please!”
“Yes?” he archangel asked with his father’s voice and his father’s smile.
“Take me in Dean’s place,” he said.
Michael actually looked shocked. “What?”
Ben stepped forward. “Please. I can—I’m younger. Healthier. I won’t fight you like I know he is.”
He waited, letting Michael examine him. “What changed your mind?” Michael asked quietly. “You were quite sure this afternoon.”
Ben closed his eyes, taking a deep, slow breath. “Mom is dead,” he whispered. “The world is dying. I haven’t seen the sun in almost a year. If I can help stop this, let me.”
He opened his eyes to Michael’s smile, nothing human in it. “Dean requests you not make this offer. We both know what you intend.”
Ben waited. Finally, Michael majestically inclined his head. “The war has been fought to a standstill,” he said. “Neither of us can advance. Maybe it is time to try something new.”
Light flashed, surrounding Ben, filling him. Michael settled inside him, opening their eyes.
Dean stared at him, horrified. “Why?” he asked. “Ben…”
Michael smiled at him and said, “Goodbye, Dean.”
Thunder boomed, so close the ground trembled beneath their feet. Lucifer stood before them, smiling.
“Now,” he said. “Let’s finish this.”
Dean yelled something, but Michael shoved Ben far into the recesses of his mind and he knew nothing more.
You are courageous, Benjamin Isaac Braedon, Michael whispered. Open your eyes and see the sun again.
Ben did, and it was beautiful.