AUTHOR'S NOTE: It's been a long time coming. Honestly, I've known the ending of this story for years now. It was a serious case of not knowing how to exactly write what I wanted. I knew the main pieces just not all the small intricate details that would tie up this story. I checked my email a few days ago, and had some updates on this story, new people commenting and adding it to their favorites list. So here we go one last plunge into the supernatural. This chapter is one of the last three I will be submitting to Burn in Hell. Enjoy.
NOW
They were all saying it, no matter how many times he flipped the channels. He could not avoid it. This was it. This was the end.
Finally, he switched the television off, tossing the remote onto the un-used motel bed as he walked back over to the other side of the room. "Anything new?" he asked the man closest to him as he sat back down in front of his computer. The man, or rather the Hunter was pining up and organizing articles in some effortless attempt at a pattern. After a few moments of silence he finally responded, "No," in his rough no-nonsense voice, that was Rufus for you. "Look Sam," Rufus said turning his back to the articles and facing Sam and really making eye contact for once in the weeks since they'd met up again. "You've got to understand. All this," he motioned to the articles pinned up on the wall behind him. "Bullshit and you know it." He gave him a stern look before he continued; Sam flexed his jaw and sat up straighter in his chair, narrowing his eyes as he listened to Rufus. "There is no damn pattern to be drawn from this, this isn't some run of the mill demon, it's the goddamn creator of demons." Sam cracked his neck and huffed, "What? So are you saying this is pointless?" "I'm saying, that this Lucifer and he's wearing Dean to the prom, and sittin' around playing hunter and researching ways to kick Lucifer out instead of killing him is not only a waste of our time, but it's going to get us and every goddamn person on this shit spot of a planet killed!" Rufus slammed a pile of articles down onto the desk and walked away saying, "I need a drink."
Sam sat in silence for a moment, flexing his jaw, his nostrils flared. Finally he got up and slammed his laptop shut, which he'd failed to use. He looked across the table at Bobby, who had grown so used to the bitchin lately he'd decided to just sit and stay out of it. It had started happening so much between Sam and Rufus or Sam and Ellen or Jo and Rufus that Bobby was over it.
It had been right over a month since Lucifer had hi-jacked Dean's body. Castiel had found Sam and taken him back to Bobby's, the first week was hell. Sam didn't move out of his room or off his bed, except to use the restroom. He didn't speak either. But on the Monday of the following week, Bobby had looked back from his desk and saw Sam descending the stairs. "Morin Sunshine." Sam just stood there for a moment, smirked slightly while slipping on his jacket and said, "Let's get this bastard."
Another week had gone by and Bobby's had gone from a one man's whiskey tavern of demonology to ground control for 'Fuck Lucifer', the bad kind of fuck. Ellen and Jo had moved in along with Rufus who'd Sam met up with on a recent hunt he'd taken to try a stay busy when the Intel was slow to come. They should have known though, that Lucifer would have kept tabs on all the Winchesters' colleagues and friends. Because not a few days after they all began to work together a fire was started at Bobby's house in an attempt to kill them all in one blow. This of course was with the presence of half a dozen of high class demons. They all managed to gank the asses of those black eyed sons of bitches, but at the cost of losing about eighty-five percent of Bobby's library, and now living life on the run…
"So what do you think?" Sam asked, clenching his jaw as he waited for Bobby's response. "What'd ya mean 'what do I think'?" Bobby asked in annoyed disbelief. "Sam, I love you and your brother as if ya where my own! I ain't researchin ways to kill Dean, we're stickin with the plan. Now why don't we try and figure out what's next, instead of ringgin our hands over what happened?" Bobby took a swig from his flask.
"Yeah, alright. You're right, Bobby," Sam sat back down and opened up his laptop. After a few minutes of shifting through news articles on the web Sam spoke up. "Hey, um, this is weird," he said without taking his eyes of the screen, "Un explained disappearances in Portland…"
"People disappear everyday Sam."
"Yeah, but not on this massive of a scale," Sam turned the laptop around to face Bobby who looked up from his books and read, Sam continued, "It says over fifteen people from different areas around Portland at different times throughout the day just.." he shrugged his shoulders. "They just disappeared, never showed back up from break at work or never picked their kids up from school. Just gone.."
"you think.."
"Lucifer? Yeah. Who else?"
"Okay say it is Sam-"
"Of course it is!" Sam was starting to shake his head, he couldn't believe Bobby wouldn't side with him on this, it was obvious. Bobby crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, waiting in silence.
"What?!" Sam demanded.
"You finished princess? 'Cause if you just listened for one Damn minute you'd realize I wasn't trying to argue with you, ya idget."
"Hilarious." Sam responded, in his sardonic one word banter he'd always enter once he realized he was being a dramatic.
"Now listen Sam," Sam turned his attention back to Bobby and crossed his arms, pursing his lips and frowning to one side slightly, ready for a lecture. Bobby rolled his eyes but continued, "Say it is ol' Lucy as the front man with all his backup singers. What are we going to do exactly? Run in guns blazing with who? Five hunters and a round of rock salt shells and a few sawed off shot guns?! With a flick of his hand he could send any one of us flying out a window. Hell for all we know he could snap his damn fingers and make us all spontaneously combust!" Bobby had started yelling halfway through his monologue. Sam had stood up and was leaning across the table, he responded as soon as Bobby went to take a breath. "So you acknowledge that I'm right about this, but you what? Just want to sit back and do nothing?! Bobby, aside from the fact that the world is about to go up in flames at any moment – what about dean!?"
That was the big question. If any other question was ever brought up at this moment, none would have been as important as the one Sam just asked. Because that's why they were all together. Sam, Bobby, Rufus, Jo and Ellen, they were all joined by a common drive a sort of morose passion, or as a memorial service for all they knew…
"What about Dean, Bobby?" Bobby didn't have a response he just sort of stared at Sam like he'd just been punched in the face. Sam looked like he was about to either kill someone or start crying.
"Sam," Bobby closed his eyes for a moment – trying to organize his next few words carefully. "Dean is why we're all here, I mean we all might have accepted the world will end. But at least we can try and get Dean back before it does…But what I'm getting at is this-" Rufus stepped back into the motel room just as Bobby was getting to his point.
"I interrupt something?" He asked, eyebrows raised and a Coffee in his hand, apparently he'd forgone the alcohol for some jet fuel instead. "Actually you arrived right on time."
Rufus took that as his queue to sit and he did, taking an empty chair. He sipped his coffee and watched Bobby, patiently. "Say Lucifer is in Portland-"
"Lucifer's in Portland?" Rufus interjected. "I'll update you on that later" Bobby responded quickly, trying to get back to his train of thought.
"That aside, we're all on the run. We haven't seen Jo and Ellen in a few days 'cause they got demons on their tails and can't come back here till they gank 'em. Rufus got coffee from the damn motel reservation desk again, which tastes like shit." Bobby added, and Rufus nodded in agreement as he took another sip and let a cringe of distaste flicker across his face as if he was drinking whiskey.
"Why are they after us? I mean, yeah kill Dean's friends and family to torture him. But track us? It's a bit-"
"Strange.." Sam finished.
"Portland too, it's too obvious. It's like the bastard wants us to know where he is."
"He wants us to come to him."
"So we're saying trap?" Rufus added.
Bobby nodded his head, Sam looked back at him and waited for his next words, "Yeah, and we're not going to fall for it. Because I figure if we're important enough to track, then we must be one damn big of a threat to still be on his radar."
"But then that means-" Sam started, he stood up and began to pace, and ran his hands through his long hair. He was smiling, the first legitimate one since before Dean was Lucifer-Dean. Rufus just chuckled and said to himself, "Damn."
Bobby pulled out his cellphone, clicking through his address book he found Ellen's number and gave her a ring. "Yeah, mission control is in for a move and I got an idea on how to throw those black eyed sons of bitches off your tail.."
Bobby had walked over to the bed on the other side of the room and began to walk Ellen through his plan. Sam finally sat back down and relaxed a bit into his seat. Rufus continued to sip that god awful coffee.
"First break through in.."
"Forever," Sam finished.
"So you know what this all means.."
Sam laughed, and looked at Rufus. He was looking at Rufus but he was thinking of Dean, of all those times he and Dean had shared these case breaking moments and the car rides after where seventies rock music blaring was the calm silence, the comfort that would lull one or the other to sleep in the passenger seat. Sam pulled Dean's necklace out of his jacket pocket and rolled it around between his fingers, smiling.
"Yeah, it means we're going to win."
