Summary: Coda to Lucifer Rising and set immediately after the finale. Dean gets some answers and Sam is seriously screwed.
Disclaimer: Entertainment purposes only. There is no intent, nor possibility, to profit from this in any way.
Note: I'm trying to work a few things out in terms of characterization and style before I start a big multi-chapter project. As such I would love reviews or even a Beta.
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"He's coming."
Sam's breathless voice reverberated in Dean's scull and he felt a shiver move up his spine as he involuntarily strengthened his grip on his brother's jacket. He couldn't see anything, the bright light saturated the room but he knew they had to go.
"We got to go Sammy!" Dean screamed, but he didn't know if Sam heard him. He couldn't even hear himself over the loud groaning as the cement moved and the earth cracked. Dean tugged on his brother's jacket and felt Sam give only an inch. Jesus, why wasn't his brother moving?
Dean closed his eyes, wrapped both arms around his brother, and yanked backwards with all his weight until he felt Sam start to move with him in an effort to keep his feet under his body. Dean tried to aim their direction toward the door, but he wasn't sure exactly where it was. He fought an overwhelming desire to curl up on the floor and start screaming. It was like every nerve in his body was jumping, on edge with an instinctual dread.
Dean stumbled over what he presumed was Ruby's body, struggling to keep himself and his brother upright. Everything felt hopeless, he couldn't save his brother, he couldn't stop the freaking Apocalypse, he couldn't even get out of this godforsaken room and he wasn't sure it mattered. "Please." Dean muttered, not sure exactly who he was pleading to or for what. "Please."
"Dean." Dean jerked at the sound of his name right by his ear and at that moment he could have cried. Even through all this, this madness, Castiel sounded as calm and clear as always. "We have to get out of here, now."
"Sam." Dean yelled, suddenly afraid that Castiel would rip him from his brother, leaving him alone with Lucifer, dear God Lucifer.
"Sam must come as well." And with that Dean felt Castiel's heavy hand on his forehead and a strong push. His stomach rose like it was trying to fly out of his throat and nausea hit him hard. He could no longer feel Sam in his arms, but he trusted Castiel, he had no choice.
"You're safe for now. You can open your eyes." Castiel said, his voice loud in the sudden quiet. Dean tentatively opened one eye and felt grateful for one second that the light was gone before he promptly bent over and vomited.
Dean kept his hands on his knees trying to work past his headache. "Where's Sam?" Dean spit, trying to clear his throat. His voice sounded like he was speaking through a mouth full if gravel and it made him feel older just hearing himself.
"He is here, at your right" Castiel replied. Dean dragged his body up and looked, immediately spying his brother's broad back. He wasn't sprawled out on the floor. He was standing up straight and silent, his hair the only animated part about him as it floated full of static about his head.
"Sam?" Dean asked. He felt a thread of irritation run through him. Why wasn't he saying anything? At the very least he should have been on his knees, brought down by the gravity of what he'd done. After everything how could he be silent?
Dean walked over and gripped Sam's shoulder. "Sam, answer me. Say something!" Dean spun Sam around and immediately cringed away. His brother's face was peaceful and unlined and that terrified Dean more than the light, more than the noise and the destiny bullshit.
"Did you see it?" Sam asked, his voice full of wonder and his eyes unfocused. "Did you feel it?"
"Feel what? What did you see?" Sam opened his mouth but no sound came out. Dean grabbed Sam's shoulders and shook hard. Why was he still weird now? Nothing he experienced in that room could have accounted for the blissed out look on his brother's face. Dean watched horrified as a single tear dropped down Sam's cheek.
"What's wrong with him?" Dean looked furious at Castiel, feeling the need to look anywhere but his brother. Castiel stared back, not bothering with the blood that was running steadily from his forehead.
"He is open, right now. He can't help it, but he should come down in a little while."
"You're not making any sense Cas" Dean replied angrily. Dean turned taking in his surroundings for the first time. It was dark out, the only light were the stars above them and town lights below, making it apparent they were atop of a barren dirt hill. Dean walked further away from the angel and his brother, unwilling to look at Sam's frozen form. "Where are we?"
"Just outside of Guadalupe, Mexico." Castiel said evenly, noting Dean's shocked face and deciding to elaborate without further prompting. "We are taking refuge for awhile. There are things out there, looking for you and Sam. Sometimes the best place for shelter is not in a cave, but out in the open, upon the same dirt that was once graced by Our Lady."
"Our Lady of Guadalupe" Dean murmured, absentmindedly sitting down on rock and sifting his hand through the dirt. "So the story is real?"
"It's not just the bad stories that are real Dean, so are the miracles. This place is hallowed, not many from Hell can tread upon this land. You and Sam should be okay here, for awhile at least."
Dean sighed, suddenly bone tired. "I can't believe we made a run for the border. Not that I'm complaining, but shouldn't we be back at the church? Trying to stop the apocalypse? Isn't the devil running rampant right now?"
Castiel shook his head before looking down at Dean. Dean shivered at the sudden direct eye contact and wished for a second that Castiel would leave. He knew he wasn't going to hear anything good.
"Despite his ambition, Lucifer never became a god, not even over those in hell. As such, his essence, his spirit can not become corporal on its own. He needs a host." Castiel, for the first time, hesitated and his human features moved awkwardly as though it was trying to express an emotion it wasn't familiar with. Dean thought it looked a little like reluctance.
"Ruby's body is vacated, so is Lilith's. Don't tell me Satan has gender issues."
"Lucifer has, and always will be an angel. A fallen one, a very powerful one, but an angel just the same. Demons can inhabit any human, because they were once human themselves, their souls recognize the human condition and are at home in the body, even if it is not their own. Angels, however, are restricted to a special, chosen few. Humans that are predestined to be vessels like Jimmy, or his daughter.
"In Lucifer's case he needs not just any vessel, but a special one that has been more or less conditioned to withstand his dark power. Until he merges with that one, he can only drift among humans, unable to physically touch them. Don't count this as a blessing. He can wreak enough damage that way. There is some truth to old Renaissance paintings portraying a horned devil whispering into the left ear of a weak willed human. He can influence actions, but he can not take them himself until he finds his vessel."
"Fantastic." Dean groaned rubbing both palms against his eyes trying to absorb Castiel's information. He felt a stab of longing for his egg head brother who would probably know all the names of the Renaissance paintings and have a few ideas about the their next coarse of action. Dean glanced behind his shoulder and saw Sam's still silhouette and shivered. It was creepy. "So what? All we have to do is find this host and take him down?"
"Dean," Castiel said heavily, and sighed. Dean heard the uncharacteristic resignation in the angel's voice and instinctively held his breath. "The vessel has already been found, Lucifer has already seen him, felt him, knows him." There was a miniscule shift of Castiel's eyes, but somehow Dean knew. Winchester's were just not lucky enough to avoid this type of hopeless fate.
"Don't, don't you say it Cas." Dean pleaded. Castiel looked at Dean, his blue eyes sorrowful, but that couldn't be right, right? Angels were the most emotionless dicks he's ever met, so that couldn't be right. Castiel walked slowly to Sam and placed his hand on his shoulder.
"Dean, I'm sorry."
At the touch of the angel's hand a full body shake went through Sam's body. His forehead scrunched painfully as his knees bent and he fell to the floor, head in hands. An almost inhuman wail made its way past clenched teeth and Dean scrambled forward on his own knees to his brother's side.
"Sam, Sam, what's wrong" Dean tentatively reached out and tried to draw Sam's face to him. Sam shook his head violently and hunched down, making himself smaller than Dean thought possible. "Sam please, look at me."
Sam suddenly snapped his head towards Dean and even in the dim light Dean could see the whites of his eyes. "I can feel them Dean" Sam gasped, his fingers curling as he dragged his fingernails down the side of his face to his neck leaving behind thin red welts. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Suddenly a crack sounded out and Sam slumped into Dean's arms.
"What the hell Cas!" Dean yelled as he laid Sam down gently, not taking his eyes off of the angel who was still holding the rock he had taken to his brother's head.
"I'm sorry Dean, but trust me, it is easier for him this way."
"How is a concussion easier!? Couldn't you have used some angel mojo to put him out?"
"His mind and soul have been influenced by the otherworldly too much tonight. His body can not take much more. He is too open right now."
"That's the second time you've said that! What does that even mean?" Dean asked, absentmindedly putting his hand on Sam's chest and counting his breaths.
"All humans to some extent are capable of the supernatural, but suppress it naturally. In the mind sometimes it is mistaken for common sense or coincidences. 'That person's image didn't just flicker because ghosts are not real.' Or 'this place gives me the creeps, but I'm just being silly.' Some people have weaker bonds, which accounts for your psychics or even shape shifters. For a vessel to be taken, those bonds have to completely dissolve. Sam's have been disintegrating since he was 6 months old. For a split second Lucifer was with Sam in that room. Not fully yet, but he knew his vessel was there and began tearing down Sam's remaining natural barriers. Right now Sam is open, not only to Lucifer, but to all other entities and beings that are around us at all times but hidden because the human mind refuses to see it. If I were to walk in the middle of Times Square and revel the specter of my wings, less than half of those there would believe they saw an angel."
Dean was silent for a moment. He tried to swallow but there was not enough saliva in his mouth. What now? He thought to himself. Sam's face was turned towards him, hair in his eyes and mouth soft. He looked like he was 14 again. For one brief horrible moment he wondered if Castiel expected him to kill Sam, burn his body so Lucifer had nowhere to go. Was he compelled now to kill his own brother? Dean felt a sliver of resentment, hate, and anger, but he couldn't bring himself to jump up and scream at Castiel. He was too damn tired. He only cared about one thing.
"Is he still human?" Dean whispered; consciously quiet, as though someone or something was out there to hear his terrible question.
"Sam will always be Sam. Has always been Sam." Castiel answered enigmatically. "Even now his mind is subconsciously working on erecting his barriers. He may not be exactly the same, but then it is not possible for someone not to be affected by what has transpired. Not you, not me. Things will look better in the light of day. I suggest you get some sleep."
Castiel started to walk off and Dean forced his legs to push him up. "Wait!" Dean yelled, panicked, "are you just leaving us here? Alone? Outside?!"
Castiel turned back. "I told you that you will be okay here for awhile. You both need to recuperate. You have a long journey ahead. I think you can handle the elements for at least tonight. You might remember a famous man who did this regularly, all the while tending sheep."
Dean scrunched his nose, not amused. "And where are you going? You must have some kind of angel bounty on your head right now. What if other angels come after us, or after you? Shouldn't we be watching each other's backs?"
Castiel touched a hand to his sluggishly bleeding hairline and brought his fingers to his face, looking at the tacky blood with an uninterested look on his face. "The archangels have an even longer memory than mine. They remember the last apocalypse and let's just say that some are sympathetic to our cause. I would not be here talking to you now if that wasn't the case. The division in heaven is great enough that proponents of the apocalypse will not come after you in fear of provoking the other side to take up arms on your behalf. I must go now, I will come back for you in two days time."
"Cas…" Dean began only to realize that he was talking to himself. He swore he hadn't even blinked, but Castiel was no longer there. "Fuck!!" He screamed at the stars above him, unable to keep is frustration bottled up. He clenched is fists and began kicking at the dirt, knowing he looked ridiculous but hoping just the same that someone up there was witness to his anger. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! I can't speak Spanish!"
Silence was his only answer and Dean felt an unwanted smile slowly make his way on his face. Spanish? He was worried about his communication skills? This was ridiculous, beyond mad. Dean couldn't help the dry chuck that escaped as he sat back down by his brother and eased back. He made an effort to slow his breathing down and moved his hand slightly, just enough to touch his brother's hand to assure him he was not alone.
"Apparently I've decided to loose my fucking mind with you Sammy- boy." Dean said, turning his head to look at Sam, half expecting to see Sam looking at him with his brow furrowed in annoyance. Sam's eyes, however, remained stubbornly closed.
"Remember, we do everything together. Don't forget it this time. And while you're at it, try not to become the anti-Christ."
