Author's Note: I forgot to include this in the previous chapter, but I don't own anything. Also, this story was inspired by AquilaTempestas' Light From Darkness, in which the author mentioned Lucifer's plan of gaining the Winchesters' trust by impersonating his vessel, and I thought, wouldn't it be really neat if he actually went through with it? Hence this story. And what if as Lucifer played human, his presumption on mankind slowly shifted despite himself…
The Finest Game
The trouble with lying and deceiving is that their efficiency depends entirely upon a clear notion of the truth that the liar and deceiver wishes to hid. - Hannah Arendt
Chapter One – An Encounter of the Other Kind
It was one of those country roads that were the very incarnations of loneliness. There was nothing in sight except for the long stretches of grey, not even a ghost (not that he wanted to see one). Dean Winchester turned down the music upon seeing his brother snoring beside him, and willed himself not to doze off as well and end up in a ditch.
It had been two weeks since the end of the Trials; two weeks since he stopped his brother from essentially killing himself; two weeks since Cas and all the other angels were cast down from Heaven. These weren't two weeks that Dean would ever want to relive.
When he came to think of it, there weren't any two weeks in the past decade or so that he would wish to go through again. Too many deaths, and too much blood. But right now they were on their way home from South Dakota. His brother was safe beside him; it was a tough week for both of them in the hospital, but Sam made it at the last, and at least now he didn't believe he was dispensable (Jesus, where did the kid get that idea). His best friend, who happened to be an angel – a fallen one – had finally made contact, and they agreed to meet at the Bunker. Just yesterday, they received info on mysterious events happening in east Colorado, and they decided to take a slight detour in case it were angels. Simply put, they were back on the road with a lead to follow and a war to fight. By Winchester standards, all was good…
Until a figure came into the range of the Impala's headlights. The man was just standing there, in the middle of the road as if it was the most common thing to do. Dean slammed on the brakes, and when he realized that he wouldn't be able to stop soon enough, he swerved to the right to avoid killing the stranger. The car skidded, nearly fell off the shoulder, and came to a stop. Dean let out a string of expletives, and Sam, jerked awake, started with "What the hell…"
"In my defence, there was a guy in the middle of the road." Said Dean.
"Gee, did you…hit him?" And yeah, that was his kid brother for ya, always worrying about other people.
"No, Sam, I didn't. I'm a much better driver than you." He quipped, reaching for his flashlight. He then exited the car in search of the cause of this accident; he needed to make sure that he didn't kill anyone, and if everything turned out okay he needed someone to yell at – the sound Baby made during the skid was very disconcerting. Sam followed suit.
Dean trudged back a few feet to see a man dressed in a thin shirt and jeans slowly getting up from the ground, but when he shone his light on the person's face, it was his turn to go "WTF" – it was the Devil. No, wait, just the guy the Devil used to use as a meat suit. Or was it Sam's hallucination? But he wouldn't be able to see Sam's hallucination even if he hadn't been cured, would he? Dean heard his brother gasp behind him. Regardless, Dean followed his survival instinct, took out his angel blade, and assumed a position of defence. If this was really Lucifer, they were screwed anyway. Holy oil was in the trunk – stupid on their part – and the Colt wouldn't do an ounce of good.
To Dean's surprise, the person raised his arm to shield his eyes from the light, and what he saw from the man was not animosity or malice, but fear.
"Hello? Who is that?" The figure with questionable identity called out. He had a strain in his voice as if he wasn't used to talking. Nonetheless, Dean shuddered at the voice, and he couldn't imagine what his brother was going through. He could still hear, to this day, the Devil's honeyed but deadly threats, his feigned innocent laughs before he killed. Dean didn't quite know how to respond, so he clutched the blade more tightly instead.
"I'm sorry, I didn't think there would be…I was just trying to hitch a ride…I didn't… Is your car alright?" The person continued.
"Yes, it is." Dean replied. Now this was seriously weird.
"Would you please lower the light…"
"Oh, my bad." Dean adjusted the flashlight so it didn't blind the person. Right then Sam, who was at times more socially inclined by far, had gathered himself despite the shock and stepped in for his brother, who apparently was at a loss for words. "Are you lost?"
Dean could now take a careful look at the stranger. He was middle-aged, looking dishevelled and extremely exerted. He had several cuts on his exposed skin as if he had tromped through a bush without looking where he was going, and he was shivering slightly in the chill of the evening. In appearance only, he looked exactly like the Devil they knew, but at the same time … everything about him looked perfectly human.
"Am I lost? Well … I don't know exactly where I am … I have been wandering. Yes, I suppose I am lost." The man said with nervousness, which was very strange to Dean, who automatically associated haughtiness and absolute confidence to his look.
Just then the stranger took some steps towards them and saw the blade in Dean's hand. His response was naturally alarmed. "Is that a knife … Oh God. I'm not armed, and I've got nothing on me, I swear … please don't…"
"It's okay. Dean, put that away." Sam stepped forward with his hands outstretched. Dean shot him an are-you-crazy look but that little self-sacrificing bastard ignored it. "Easy, it's alright. I'm unarmed, too. My name is Sam and this is my brother, Dean. We won't hurt you, I promise."
The man seemed to calm down a little, but didn't say anything. He looked over to Dean again, and suddenly staggered back with a look of horror on his face. "That's a … an angel blade. Are you angels?"
"Psst, no." Dean said in disgust. "Do we look like angels?"
Then realization dawned on the man. "You must be what they call hunters."
"Yes, that we are." Sam said encouragingly. "Dean, will you put that away? No one needs to get hurt."
Dean, although very unwillingly, put his blade back in the side of his jacket and let Sammy lead the play. He sincerely hoped his brother knew what he was doing.
"You are the Winchesters … " The stranger whispered with a mixed expression. "I remember now – the angels were talking about you all the time. Then you know who I am."
"Yes. You can trust us; we help people and save them from supernatural things like demons, and now angels too. Will you tell us your name?"
"Nicholas." The stranger answered immediately. "Nicholas Calvin."
"And what else do you remember?"
The man stared hard into the distance with a rueful smile. "I remember the Devil appearing in my dreams. I remember … light. And then … killing. Blood. Ah God." He stopped abruptly and bent down with hands covering his head. "It still hurts to … "
"Take your time. It's all over now." Sam said in his most soothing tone.
After a moment, the man collected himself and straightened up. "Can I please have some water?"
Dean opened the trunk and produced one of their stock bottled water - bottled Holy Water, Sammy's ingenious invention – and handed it to the stranger.
He gulped down the entire bottle as if he had been thirsty for days, and the nature of the beverage didn't bother him one bit. Dean, on some level, was relieved. But then they had no idea if Holy Water would affect the Devil at all. It probably wouldn't; Lucifer was an angel in essence.
"I just … am not ready to talk about all this right at this moment." He said after he finished drinking, a little out of breath.
"It's okay. We totally understand." Sam replied good-naturally. "Now, my brother and I were heading to Kansas, but we are more than happy to give you a ride. Is there somewhere in particular that you want to go? Where you used to live, maybe?"
"I used to live in…" There was a flick of longing in his eyes, but he blinked and it disappeared. "No, never mind. It's all gone now, anyway. No, I don't have anywhere to go."
"Okay. Kansas it is." Sam opened the backseat door. The man still eyed the brothers with apprehension, but got in after casting one last look at the deserted country road. No other vehicle was likely to pass by in a long, long time.
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As soon as the car door closed, Dean dragged his younger brother a dozen feet into the dark.
"Sammy, what did you just do?" He said in the angriest whisper he could manage.
"I was trying to help the person that you nearly ran over, Dean." Sam said, as calm as ever.
"That person used to be the friggin' Devil! Who then used you as …"
Sam promptly cut off his tirade. "I know full well what happened, but that person is not some fallen angel. He is a vessel, just like me."
"So he says!"
"And so he looks and behaves! He looks every bit as human as you and I do. He drinks water like he'll die without it, he has blood on his cuts, and he shows emotions. Dean, you know angels – we've dealt with dozens of them, and I'll give you a billion dollars if you could find a single angel who could play human this well."
"Father of Lies, Sammy, Father of Lies." Dean huffed in annoyance.
"Now on to my second point," Sam continued. "Lucifer and Michael are in the Cage. I know because I went in with them…"
"Have you considered the possibility of the Cage opening as a result of Metatron casting the angels down?"
"That is highly unlikely, Dean. We have no evidence…"
"Screw evidence! Screw 'highly unlikely'!" Dean inadvertently raised his voice again. "I am talking about what if here. We've been through so much crazy lately. I don't want to take that risk!"
Sam's voice became a little louder too. "Yes, but what if that guy is only human? What if that guy over there is who he says he is; what if he just went through hell and needs someone – anyone - who can lend a helping hand? Can you live with the fact that you once saw a human in need and turned a blind eye? Especially when his sorry condition was caused largely by our own actions? I don't believe I can. I think I'll take that risk."
Dean spent a minute just staring at his beloved car, resting on the shoulder on the road with a suspicious individual sitting in it. The stranger had settled in the backseat, but was still fidgety with an uneasy look on his face. "I know what this is about. You think that this is your fault – Lucifer's last vessel getting possessed. Hell, you think everything - people dying, the Apocalypse - was your fault, don't you, Sammy?"
"Well, yes, I did kill Lilith and set the Devil free." Sam shot right back, unrelenting. "I did kick-start the Apocalypse. If that wasn't one hell of a mistake, then I don't know what is. And if I don't save… if I don't help every single life that I can, then I don't know how to even start making up for it."
Dean thought for a long while, and then looked up at his brother. "Very well." He said. "Let's go home now. I'm so tired of all this."
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Thirty long, uneasy minutes later, the road merged onto the main highway, and they were starting to see civilization.
"Let me know if you need a stop or anything, okay? You alright there, Nick?" Dean asked. When no answer came from the backseat, he glanced in the rear-view mirror and saw the guy fast asleep. Dean was both concerned and relieved; for one, angels didn't sleep, so the possibility of his new passenger being human just increased significantly. That was great because Dean was really, really not in the mood to deal with the Devil and the Apocalypse at that moment - or any moment, for that matter. But then he'd also seen Cas fall into a sleep-like state when he was not fully powered. He didn't particularly wish to deal with a not-fully-powered Devil either.
The long road stretched on as they entered the state of Kansas – they were finally home. Now, they would find ways to deal with the problem of angels falling out of the sky. But before then, they had a few more tests to run before they could be sure that the person sleeping in the backseat was who he said he was. If so, they had to find out how everything came to be. The suspicious occurring in Colorado would have to wait.