Why did Moses cross the Red Sea?
(Answer at end of chapter)
A little while later (maybe it was just a few minutes, maybe it was more like a few hours, Gabe wasn't really keeping track of time) Michael shook Gabriel to get his attention. He took out the earbuds and cocked a brow at Michael, who jerked his head in Castiel's direction. The latter seemed like he had something to say, and looked mildly irritated. Whoops.
"Finally. Which way did Lucifer go?" Gabriel and Michael shrugged in response. The former was pretty sure that if Castiel wanted to, he could simply make the other Archangel reappear with them, but maybe he didn't want to waste the energy or something. After all, the more soul power he consumed, the less powerful he got, and the closer he got to being consumed. If he even knew about that bit.
"He can't have left. . ." Castiel mused, looking towards the more tree-dense area.
Rather suddenly, Gabriel snorted. Whether it was just his ill-timed and childish sense of humour, or partly due to stress, he still didn't know. "You lost Satan." He snorted again. "Where the devil, is the devil?" And that was it. Gabriel broke down into a fit of uncontrollable giggles, punctuated sporadically by more terrible Satan puns.
They pretty much all went over Michael and Castiel's heads though, and when he finally calmed down enough to get a good look a them, the nearly identical head-tilts of befuzzlement sent him straight into a new bout of laughter.
(Between you and me, I'm betting the stress finally got to him.)
The rather loud and uncontrolled giggles caught Lucifer's attention from wherever he was sulking, and he made his way over, watching Gabriel in bemusement. "What's so funny?"
Michael shrugged, Castiel gave a bewildered shake of his head.
Hearing his brother's voice, Gabriel looked around for him, and upon spotting him, jumped to his feet. "Speak of the devil," he giggled again, "there you are! Hey, hey, heyheyhey, bro. Did you come back because you heard me?"
Lucifer, who was as lost as the other two at this point just drew his brows together. "I . . . Suppose so? Are you okay, Gabe?"
Gabriel let loose another burst of giggles before continuing. "So you could say I just. . . Summoned Satan?" He continued laughing, draping himself over his older brother's shoulder as comprehension dawned on him.
Lucifer rolled his eyes with a half-weary, half-amused sigh as he held his little brother up. "Hilarious. You're a comedy genius. Now pull yourself together, Robin Williams."
"One more, one more. Then I'm done. Pinkie promise." Gabriel insisted, holding up the aforementioned pinkie.
Lucifer hesitated, then shook his head. "I've got one." He hooked pinkies with the other Archangel. "Deal."
Gabriel snickered, then pouted up at him. "I was gonna do that! Pun-thief!"
Luce ruffled his hair fondly. "Too slow." He bit his tongue before he reminded Gabriel who taught him all his tricks. That wasn't a memory he wanted to dredge back up.
Michael was smiling faintly, either because he was starting to catch the humour, or because he was just pleased to see his brothers in good spirits again.
"Whatever. Deal's a deal, I still get one more. So, so what happens when your hair falls out?" He asked Luce, holding off on the laughter for now.
Lucifer frowned. "I. . . Get a new vessel?" Gabriel shook his head in the negative. "No clue. What?"
Gabriel grinned, snickering before answering. "There'll be hell toupeé."
Lucifer grimaced in response.
Gabriel succumbed to immature giggles again, that is, until Castiel cleared his throat. That sobered Gabriel up fast enough. He let go of Lucifer in order to face the former Seraph. "Sorry, I'm not sure what came over me. . . What did you come up with?"
Castiel seemed content to ignore the bout of mild hysterics. He simply inclined his head to acknowledge the apology. "I have already contacted Crowley and. . . Persuaded him (Translation: scared him shitless) to urge hell to keep to itself. He reports to me now. Heaven is under control for the moment. I've asserted my authority clearly enough here." The juiced-up Angel recounted, eyeing his brothers. "All that's left is Humanity. Belief is difficult to earn from them, but not impossible. I intend to walk amongst them and perform miracles, smite the unworthy, and cleanse the planet. Gabriel. You were always good at rooting out the. . . 'Douchebags', as you called them. I want you to continue that, but make it known that they died because they are the scum of the earth." Gabriel was frowning now, but he held onto his protests for a more appropriate time.
"Michael. Stay here, and see that the remaining angels have direction. Much of heaven is damaged, and many souls have run off to who knows where. Report to me when you've sorted them out." Straightforward, unassuming orders. Michael saw no issue with them, and nodded once to express that he understood.
"Lucifer, with me." Castiel didn't elaborate, and the second oldest grimaced with dread. "Keep up." And with a flutter of feathers, he disappeared from heaven. Lucifer tossed his brothers an unreadable look before he too, flew off.
Michael and Gabriel couldn't say they envied whatever his job was to be.
Silence reigned for a few seconds, before Gabriel turned on his angel radio. ' 'Mikey?' '
' 'Yes, Gabriel?' ' The elder looked at him with a weary raise of his brow.
The younger was scowling at the inappropriately clear and sunny sky. ' 'I should get going. Do something for me, okay? Get Ongkanon to set up a private frequency for us. He'll know how to hide it from little bro. And make sure Luce gets connected to it, too. Brother will need your help with that part. Got it?' '
Michael nodded once, and Gabriel flew down to earth, satisfied. The former lingered a bit longer, and then released a tired sigh, getting to work. "Here goes nothing. . ."
Lucifer fought to hide his scowl as he flew after the more powerful (for now) being. They landed just outside some horribly run-down old building.
Scratch that; heavily-warded horribly run-down old building. He could feel the sigils and runes pushing him away even from afar. The building itself was difficult to look at for long periods of time. 'Singer Salvage Yard' read the sign outside. "Not to rain on your parade or anything. . . But we'll never be able to get in there, Cassie. Why. . ." He answered his own question when he noticed that one of the many cars parked outside was a badly busted-up black '67 Chevy Impala. "The Winchesters?"
Castiel nodded, but otherwise ignored him. The younger raised his arm, and the building began to shake faintly and the sigils glowed through the walls. One by one, the wards keeping them out began to burn away.
Lucifer had to admit, he was impressed. And maybe a little intimidated. Maybe. Just a little.
The shaking eventually stopped, and Castiel flew inside with Lucifer right behind him. Sam, Dean, and some gruff old man that Lucifer only vaguely recognised (didn't I blow him up?) were standing together, tensed and with weapons at the ready.
Dean was the first to react. "Lucifer." He looked like he was one wrong word away from shooting the devil full of lead, damn the consequences.
Sam shot his brother a look, his grip tightening on the Colt. Weirdly, Dean's reaction seemed to make him relax.
The older Winchester didn't notice, cocking his rifle.
The Archangel in question just stuffed his hands in Nick's pockets, waiting for Castiel to get on with the reason they're here.
He didn't have to wait long. "Drop your weapons, please." The former seraph asked with feigned politeness. When they didn't immediately comply, he flicked his fingers and the three yelped, dropping their respective guns as if burned. "Take a seat." He didn't wait for compliance this time, force-pushing the three onto the worn couch behind them. Castiel went to seat himself on the recliner.
With every seat taken (besides a spot next to Sam, no thank you), Lucifer just remained standing where he was. He still wasn't really clear on why he was even here.
Belatedly, he realised Castiel was staring at him. "What?"
"I said take a seat, brother." Lucifer's eyes flicked to the space beside Sam. "Not there." He looked back at his little brother, confused.
Collecting every ounce of patience he could muster, the serpent managed to keep the venom out of his tone. "Where, then?"
The smirk Castiel gave him sent chills down his spine. "Next to myself, of course."
The ground. Castiel wanted him to sit on the ground at his fucking feet, like some kind of glorified pet. Suddenly, Lucifer understood what his role was in Castiel's plans, and it took all the self-control he had not to attack the other Angel right there.
The devil ground his teeth, his hands clenching and unclenching in his pockets. Castiel seemed content to wait it out, watching his brother with the most infuriating expression of amusement. Lucifer's temple throbbed, the darkening bruise on his vessel's face serving as a clear reminder of what would happen if he didn't obey. The devil took a slow breath and temporarily swallowed his pride, answering blandly. "Of course."
He tried not to think about it too much as he walked around to Castiel's right and dropped to the ground, folding his legs Indian-style underneath him. Instead, he entertained himself with all the ways he was going to tear Castiel apart once he inevitably lost the upper hand.
It would be easier if he couldn't feel three astonished sets of eyes on him.
Satisfied, Castiel turned back to his human audience. Dean spoke up again before Castiel could say anything. "I see you replaced your friends pretty quick, Cas. Really? Lucifer?"
"He's not my friend." Castiel was quick to correct, and the devil huffed in agreement.
It was Sam's turn to voice his dissidence. "Why the hell are you back? I thought you didn't care about us 'inconsequential ants'."
Lucifer leaned forward with interest. Now, this was an interesting development. "Trouble in paradise, Cassie?"
That made the 'New God' curl his lip in distaste. It seemed he didn't like having his own words thrown back at him. And he didn't like Lucifer sassing him, either. "I had hoped that you would see things my way, Dean, Sam, Bobby. But I know now that this is not to be the case. Out of respect for our friendship, I will leave you be, but I have seen your resourcefulness first hand, and do not want you getting in my way. I am going to fix this world, with or without your help. You may join me any time you like. Lucifer will stay with you as both your guardian and my own eyes and ears." The Archangel's attention snapped back to his brother at this. Castiel shot him a quelling look. "Lucifer, if I find out that you so much as pulled a hair from their heads, you won't live to regret it. And you," he looked up at the hunters, "I believe I have already made myself clear. Do you understand?"
His brother dropped his gaze with a put-upon sigh. ". . . Understood."
The humans looked far from pleased, but each gave some form of assent.
Castiel watched them for another second. ". . . Good. Now I will take my leave." He gave Lucifer a demeaning pat on the head. "Stay."
Lucifer shook with rage, but didn't retaliate. Castiel disappeared in another flutter of wings.
No one said anything for a long while, the humans staring at their 'guest', who stood as soon as Castiel was gone, but didn't (or couldn't) meet their eyes.
Dean broke the silence, finally. ". . . Son of a bitch."
Lucifer gave a derisive snort. "Couldn't have said it better."
The taller brother gave a short grunt of agreement.
Awkward silence. Lucifer finally looked at them, unable to stand the tense quiet for too long. "Well. This is going to be fun." He looked over his human charges. Sam's intense glare of hatred prompted him to give the brunette an infuriating smirk. "Hey Sam, long time no spooning."
Sam frowned at him even more deeply (if that was even possible), and finally answered in a tone dripping with barely-contained hatred. "Screw you, asshole."
That just earned the hunter a wider grin. "I like the way this is going. When and where?"
Stepping forward, fist clenched as if to hit him, Sam growled back at him. "This is all just some big game to you, isn't it?"
The accusation caused the elder being to think for a second. "Mm. . . Yeah, kinda." He didn't expect a warm welcome, obviously, but Sam's raw anger seemed like a bit of an overreaction, to be completely honest. If anything, Lucifer feels that he's the one who should be angry about the human stuffing him back in the cage (along with Michael, no less). Sam should be smug about his victory, in Lucifer's opinion. But he just seems. . . Livid. About what, Lucifer can't be sure. Maybe beating Dean up was a step too far?
In the face of Sam's persisting fury, Lucifer resolves to figure it out later.
"So was the torture just a game too? Were you just 'having fun'?" Asked Sam, barely-controlled rage adding a slight tremor to his voice.
Torture? What? Lucifer was very confused, to be sure. But. . . The anger suddenly made sense. Lucifer started to form a theory on Sam's current attitude. ". . . When did I torture you, again?" Weirdly enough, he wasn't actually just 'playing innocent', though in hindsight it probably sounded that way.
"The cage, you sick bastard!" Sam snapped back, anger seeming to double at the other's dismissive reaction. "Who do you think you're trying to fool?!"
Lucifer blinked at the outburst, then simply shook his head and raised his hands in mock-surrender. "I never tortured you. Look, you won. Against all the odds, you beat me, one-on-one, matrix style. I respect that, so I took our wager seriously, and I let you be." He lowered his hands, doing his best to sound calm and reasonable. It was hard to admit he'd lost, but he had. "At any rate, I was kind of 'busy' with Michael the whole time. I wouldn't have noticed you were gone if Death himself hadn't popped by to collect you. You don't remember any of that?"
Sam wrinkled his nose in disbelief, but made an effort to think back anyways.
Dean looked like he wasn't sure what to do with himself. He half wanted to back his brother up and call bullshit on Lucifer, but he can also sort of tell that in this instance, the devil isn't lying to them.
As if he can't stand the awkward silence either, Lucifer adds; "C'mon, Sam. You know I'm not that petty."
The room was conversation-less for another good while. Lucifer didn't try to break the quiet again, turning his attention elsewhere in the room.
Eventually Bobby spoke up, addressing Lucifer and interrupting the taciturn room. "What happened to your face?"
The devil grimaced, hand unconsciously going up to touch his darkening bruise. "Let's just say that the latest Dad-wannabe doesn't appreciate defiance, and leave it at that."
The older of the brothers cocked a brow. "Since when do Angels bruise?"
After a short hesitation, Lucifer shook his head and answered Dean softly. "We don't."
Dean chewed the inside of his cheek. "Ouch."
The devil gave a nod, answering dryly. "My sentiments exactly."
Sam pulled them back to the original argument. "I remember the fighting, early on. . . But I remember the torture, too."
The look Lucifer fixed Sam with was a poor imitation of pity. "I don't know what to tell you. I didn't torture you, Sam. If you want my best guess? You imagined it. You were in there a long time, and the cage does things to people. It's built as a punishment for me, and I'm a nigh all-powerful Archangel. It was even starting to get to Michael. Lord only knows what it could do to a little human like you."
Sam scowled, not ready to believe him just yet. "Yet, you seem just fine."
The devil fixed him with a look of grim amusement. "Do I, Sam?" The devil went mad a long time ago. He's merely learned to conceal it better.
Sam seemed to realise the irony of his statement, and the scowl just deepened. He didn't argue the point any further, however.
Dean was busy marvelling at the fact that Sam hadn't run out of new Bitchfaces.
Bobby cleared his throat. "Right. So how're we gonna fix this mess? Any ideas, blondie?"
Lucifer snorts, walking over to get a better look at the pictures on the mantle. "We can't do anything. Plotting against Castiel when he's like this is suicide. All we can do is wait."
"So you're just going to give up? Throw in the towel?" Dean obviously wasn't happy with that answer, moving to retrieve the Colt Sam had dropped. "Bullshit. You're Goddamn Lucifer. You didn't give up when God tossed you in Hell and threw away the key, so why is now any different?"
The angel in question grimaced slightly at the reminder. "Yeah, and that worked out so well for me. Look, this is different. Castiel isn't my dad. He's. . ." Lucifer gestured his hands uselessly as he searched for the right word. ". . . scary. I knew Dad was too sentimental to finish the job when it came to me. But Castiel . . . He might smite me for so much as looking at him the wrong way. And I rather like my essence where it is, thank you."
It cannot be said that Dean is, by any sense of the word, a coward. "So that's it, huh? You get slapped around a little, and you're suddenly his bitch?" The hunter growls, stepping towards the source of his frustration.
For his part, the devil resisted the urge to break some of the whelp's bones. "What would you have me do, Dean?! My hands are tied! Anything I do would be stupid, reckless, and make absolutely no difference! We could throw the whole of Heaven at him, and only make him sneeze! So tell me Boy Wonder, if you're so sure, what would you have me do?"
Before Dean could argue with him again, Lucifer continued venomously. "Would you have me throw myself at an enemy far stronger than myself, and die pointlessly for your cause? Perhaps your bullshit worked on Gabriel, but I'm not so gullible."
That seemed to effectively shut Dean up.
It was Sam who eventually answered, his voice quiet and hopeful. "There has to be something we can do. There's always something."
With a frustrated sigh, Lucifer seemed to deflate a little. He turned away again before answering. "Not in this case, Sam. There aren't any magic rings, all-powerful do-dads, and no amount of wishing is gonna get us out of this. Short of getting Dad to show his face again, all we can do is wait."
A thoughtful look overtook Sam's face. "Hey, why not that? Getting God to come back. Maybe you can find him?"
The devil snorted and shook his head. "What do you think I was doing before the big showdown, Sam? Twiddling my thumbs in Detroit? Those rituals and booty calls didn't take up all my time. I was looking for the big guy, but he's long gone. Caught the first train out of crazy town and didn't look back. Dad could be universe-hopping, for all I know. But for whatever reason, He doesn't want to be found, so He won't be. End of story."
"What if instead of lookin' for Him, we gave Him a reason to come back?" Bobby interjects, tone contemplative.
"And how do you suppose we do that, old man?" Came the disenfranchised reply. Lucifer can't be bothered to remember the human's name. "Who's to say He'll even be looking when you do?"
The hunter glares, but doesn't correct the devil. Priorities. "Oh, he'll notice. You were his favourite, right? So much so that he locked ya away rather than strike you down?"
Not sure where he's going with this, but also curious to find out, Lucifer nods slowly. "You could say that. . ." His palm unconsciously ghosts over a place on his shoulder; where underneath his shirt, a faded mark resided on Nick's skin like a long-healed scar.
This seemed to just confirm something Bobby already suspected. "Then he must still care about yeh. Think he'd intervene if you were in mortal danger?"
At the first part, Lucifer's nose wrinkled. At the second, he full-on scowled. "No." He bit out, then continued with his clipped explanation. "It is said; 'Do not put the Lord your God to the test'. He won't come back if I put myself in danger. Do not ask me for such a thing again."
"Did you just. . ." Dean hesitated, eyebrows raised. ". . . quote Jesus?"
Lucifer scoffed, answering with an air of distaste. "They were not The Son's words first, Winchester. But if you wish to see it that way, fine. Yes, I quoted the same scripture that Father's prize child once used against me."
This did nothing to deter Dean's amusement at the coincidence. "Ooh, someone's touchy. How did you get out to talk to him, anyways? Weren't you locked up already?"
The devil silently counted to ten. This human is asking to be vaporised. "Security was more lax before the Son locked hell up and opened the pearly gates to the rabble. I couldn't get out, per say. But I could make deals, and influence the weak of faith. I appeared to him in that Dad-forsaken desert as more of an . . . astral projection, I suppose." Jesus Christ. Now he was a worthy foe. "The prick still wouldn't give me the time of day." His worthiness doesn't make Lucifer hate him any less. "But that's all beside the point. God's not coming back until he wants to, and there's nothing we can do about that."
Bobby huffs. "We'll talk about your enormous daddy issues later, blondie. So if we can't get him back, are you sure there's nothing we can do about Castiel?"
The elder being glared. "No. We can do nothing but wait it out."
"Balls." Cursed Bobby, under his breath.
"On the bright side, we shouldn't have to wait too long." The blonde commented, daring to let a hopeful note into his voice.
Sam, being more attuned to Lucifer's way of thinking, raised an eyebrow. "What aren't you telling us?"
Lucifer smiled morbidly at a group picture of the Winchesters and Bobby, back when the boys were still children. "Do you want the good news or the bad news first?"
"Bad news" Sam and Dean answered simultaneously.
Lucifer turned to face them, hands in his jacket pockets. "Castiel got a little more than he bargained for when he swallowed all of purgatory. You see, it's not just monsters in there. Dad locked up old beings in it. Beings older than humanity, older than Angels, even. The Leviathan were trapped there. He created them first, see? But they were mindless, hungry things. They ate anything and everything he created, so they had to go. Only a few of us actually know they exist." He paused, pleased to see the fearful looks the brothers gave each other. "And even I don't know how to go about killing one. As far as I'm aware, they have no weaknesses."
Bobby seemed the least affected. "And the good news?" He prompted gruffly.
The Devil sighed. "Right now, Castiel can contain them with the assistance of all those souls he took. But he won't be able to hold them back forever. Sooner or later, he'll figure it out, and maybe then he'll wise up and put everything he took back where it belongs. If you want to do something productive, we can prepare a portal to purgatory, and wait." He smiled faintly to himself. "Ha, that's fun to say."
Silence reigned for a while, before Bobby gave an irritated grunt. "Fantastic. How do we make one?"
After chewing his cheek for a second, Lucifer voiced his thoughts out loud. "Well, the most reliable way involves using the blood of a virgin and a purgatory escapee during a lunar eclipse. . . But there's another less time-sensitive way, if memory serves. It doesn't involve killing virgins, though. Pity." He was quiet for another few seconds. "Yeah. You'll need a fallen angel's feather burned to ash in holy oil, dirt from The Garden with a capital 'G', and hellfire. That should do it." He snapped up a notepad and red pen, drew something and wrote a few lines of Latin, then handed it to Sam. "Arranged like this, on that symbol drawn in lamb's blood. The first two lines open the portal, the third line closes it."
Sam nodded, squinting as he read it over a few times. "Dude, your handwriting sucks. How do you say this?" He pointed at one of the first few words and turned it back in Lucifer's direction.
Dean interrupted, wanting to get a look. He snorts, agreeing with Sam. "Serious case of doctor's hand."
Lucifer huffed indignantly, handing Sam the pen. "You write it then. Ready?" Sam nods, crossing out what Lucifer wrote (if it can even be called writing). "Magnanime portam Purgatorii a malis mundi hujus, quo ultra rogamus audi nos. Accipe sacrificium Deo de caelo et inferno, et dimitte nobis limina tuta traiectus." He paused, waiting for Sam to finish. After a second, Sam looked up, and he continued. "The last line to close it goes; portam purgatorii magnanime, accipe adhuc memores et signavit."
Sam finished copying it down and nodded, handing it to Lucifer to make sure he had it right. The latter nodded, and gave it back. "I suggest you memorise it, and then burn that. We don't want you-know-who catching on and getting the wrong idea."
Bobby grunted in agreement, giving Lucifer a curious look. "Why're you being so helpful? Y'know, when you're not tryin' to kill us all, you're downright pleasant."
Lucifer pulled a face. "Desperate times. Don't be getting any idiotic ideas. We aren't friends. I still hate you lot. But for the moment, we're stuck in the same shitty situation, and I don't like Castiel's 'upgrade' any more than you do. So, until I can go back to fighting my brother in peace, we might as well call a temporary truce. Deal?" He formally extended his hand.
Sam and Dean shared a look before Dean replied. "You know, we kinda have all we need now. What do you think Cass would do if I told him you threatened to drop me in Antarctica?"
Lucifer's hand dropped back to his side, a growl building up in his throat.
The younger brother joined in with an identical evil grin. "Nothing good, Dean. What do you think he'd do if I told him Lucifer was trying to get us to say yes again?"
Bobby caught on, watching his boys with some amusement. Dean added. "I think he'd take our word for it, if I said you punched me. Sam?" The elder brother offered the younger his chin.
Lucifer paled significantly, knowing they were right. "No, no—wait, just hold on." He grimaced, hating them even more, and hating that he can't do anything about it. "Fine, what do you want?"
Sam and Dean smiled at each other, and folded their arms. "A better deal," Sam began, "on our terms."
Lucifer glared at the moose of a man, biting out a response. "And just what terms are those?"
Dean hummed to himself, thinking. It was Bobby who spoke first. "Haven't decided. Ya idjits should get some professional help. Crowley'll know how to keep him from findin' loopholes."
The Winchesters hesitated, knowing they aren't exactly Crowley's favourite people right now (and not trusting him as far as they could throw him, for that matter), but they had to agree. Contract-writing isn't exactly their forté.
Lucifer stewed while they summoned his least-favourite demon, considering what his chances are if he just kills them all and makes a run for it.
He estimated somewhere between 'not good' and 'less than none'.
Cocky bastards.
Damn Castiel.
To get to the other side. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
By the way, I'm still looking for a beta; there are 8 chapters left and I need help~! (and you get to read the whole story 8 weeks before everyone elseeeee)
mmmm Imma comment monster feed me all your comments omnomnomnomnom
