Contains dialogue from the episode Hammer Of The Gods, 5x19. It belongs to Eric Kripke and Andrew Dabb.
Part of my Deleted Scenes series. Full list of fics in reading order available on my profile page. They will make more sense if read in order. Or, look up paperstorm on AO3 for a much easier way to follow this series.
The Lord is a man of war.
Exodus 15:3
"Four keys," Gabriel says, talking to them through the screen of Sam's laptop. "Well, four rings. From the Horsemen. You get 'em all, you got the cage. Can't say I'm betting on you boys. But, uh, hey! I've been wrong before. And Dean, you were right. I was afraid to stand up to my brother."
The blond girl crawls up next to him and bites his earlobe, letting out a fake sexy growl as Gabriel ignores her and keeps talking.
"Not anymore. So this is me, standing up." He stands, briefly, and then adds, "And this is me, lying down," before grabbing the blond girl, throwing her down onto the bed, and falling down after her.
It gets graphic quick and Sam's stomach turns. "Oh, ugh!" he cries, shutting the lid on the computer. "Man."
"Horsemen, huh?" Dean muses. "Well, we got War's. We nicked Famine's. That's two rings down. Collect all four? All we need is Pestilence and Death."
"Oh, is that all?" Sam asks sarcastically. It sounds insurmountable.
"It's a plan," Dean points out, and he isn't wrong about that.
Sam nods. He gets his laptop from the room and gets into the Impala while Dean takes his place behind the wheel, and starts to drive.
"I guess it wasn't all bad that we stopped at that hotel instead of listening to you," Dean starts, a small but obnoxious smile on his face.
Sam rolls his eyes, defenses instantly up. "Are you kidding me? That was dumb luck at best. You do not get to take credit for – "
"Sam. I'm fucking with you."
"Oh." Sam slumps back in his seat and sighs. "Dick."
Dean chuckles. "Sorry. Couldn't resist."
"Because you're a dick," Sam repeats, while Dean laughs again. Even at his own expense, Sam likes the sound of Dean laughing again.
"You love me," Dean accuses, like it's an insult.
Sam ignores him. Dean doesn't need to hear it out loud. They both already know it's true. "Y'know, what Kali said back there? About how there's all these gods and supernatural things out there but the Christian ones think they own everything? That's kinda true."
"Which is why I never believed in any of this crap."
"A bunch of gods died in that hotel," Sam continues. "And not, like, two-thousand year old pagan gods that nobody's even heard of. Actual gods of actual religions that still exist. D'you think … is that gonna be bad?"
"Could it be worse?"
"Probably, yeah. A lot worse."
"Well aren't you a little ray of sunshine," Dean mumbles.
"I'm serious, Dean. This is real. What if people find out? That a Christian angel murdered their gods? Lucifer wouldn't even have to lift a finger. The planet would destroy itself."
Dean huffs like he's annoyed at the entire situation, but nods. "Yeah. It probably would. So we keep that shit to ourselves."
"I guess no one would believe us anyway."
"Nope. Nobody wants to know this crap is actually real, Sammy. The bad stuff or the good stuff. People like the fairy tale. They like thinking their god is out there watchin' over everything, and then at the same time sinning like it's goin' outta style and not really believing anything bad is gonna happen to them for it."
"I guess so." Sam says again.
"At least you and me know we're damned. The threat of goin' to Hell doesn't make anybody else change their ways. It makes them choose not to believe in Hell."
Dean's probably right about that too. It makes Sam angry, though, to think that people in other religions have their own version of Heaven and that maybe no one will go there anymore because their gods are gone.
"So, we have a plan."
"Yes we do," Dean answers with a smirk – the happy kind.
"That's something."
"It's a lot of things. It's more than we had yesterday."
"You think there's any chance it will actually work?"
"It doesn't matter. Either it works or it doesn't. It's the only plan we have, so we give it everything we've got, and if it doesn't work, then we die trying. Together." Dean looks over at him and raises his eyebrows. "You still with me?"
Sam smiles. "Yep."
"Any ideas on how to find them?"
"The Horsemen?"
"Yeah."
Sam thinks about it. "Well. Pestilence shouldn't be too hard. He'll probably go around leaving a trail of … y'know. Pestilence."
Dean nods thoughtfully. "So, what, we should be looking for diseases? Like, on a mass scale? Big outbreaks of … whatever?"
Sam blinks. He can't believe he never thought of it until just now. "H1-N1."
Dean pauses for a moment, his eyebrows slowly stitching together like things are clicking in his head like they just clicked in Sam's. "Swine flu? Holy shit. Why did we never think of that?"
"It makes sense, right?"
"It totally makes sense."
"It's everywhere, though," Sam says, starting to doubt the brilliance of his revelation when he remembers how wide-spread the epidemic has been in the last few months.
"I guess the dude can move. There's gotta be places where it hit really hard, though, right?" Dean reasons. "So we look for towns where a lot of people are sick. It's a place to start anyway."
"What about Death?"
Dean blows out a breath. "I have no idea. Lucifer summoned him with some kind of spell a few months back, maybe we could …"
"Lucifer summoned him by murdering a whole town," Sam reminds him, and Dean stops short.
"Oh. Right. Well, yeah. We can't do that."
"Are we heading to Bobby's?" Sam asks, realizing he didn't take note of which highway they're traveling down, with the Impala rumbling beneath them in a way that's always been comforting.
"Figured he might have some ideas. He usually does."
Sam nods. He hates still not knowing how they're going to do this, or even if it's going to work – Gabriel might have been wrong. Or lying. He wouldn't be the first angel to be either. But it's something to do. It's a direction to head in, and even if it leads nowhere, it's more than they had yesterday.
"Do you think if we die, we'll go back to Heaven?"
Dean shrugs, and sounds more nonchalant about it than he likely is when he answers, "Probably not. But I don't know. Depends on who's calling the shots right now, I guess. We might."
"If … um." Sam swallows and reconsiders bringing it up for a moment. He doesn't want this to turn into a fight, when they've finally been getting along lately. "If we did. I mean, that wouldn't be so horrible, right? If Zachariah wasn't there screwing with us? It'd just be you and me. On the road. Like now, only … forever."
Dean smiles just a little bit – almost like he's holding it back, like he agrees but is trying not to completely give Sam the satisfaction of being right. "I can think of worse things. We could see Ash again."
"We wouldn't have anything to fight about."
"We'd find something."
"Stupid stuff, though. Stuff that doesn't matter."
"Like who's gonna top?" Dean jokes.
Sam laughs. "Probably."
"I could be nice from time to time. Let you think you're gonna win."
Sam laughs again, and looks over at Dean to find his eyes sparkling in a way they used to constantly and just don't anymore. It makes him achey inside and happy at the same time. "Thanks. You're a good brother."
Dean smiles at him, the tiny thrill still there between them when they talk about sex and being brothers in the same sentence. Then he looks back at the road stretching out in front of them, but reaches over and slides his hand over the back of Sam's neck, squeezing briefly and letting the touch linger for a moment before he lets his hand fall away. Sam's skin prickles in the cool air after the warmth of Dean's fingers, and he smiles down at his hands, folded in his own lap. It might be irrationally optimistic and he's positive it won't last, but right now – in the Impala with his brother to his left, where they both belong – Sam sort of feels like maybe they can actually do this. Maybe they can beat the Devil, save the world. It makes him feel better than he has in a long, long time.