Chapter Four: Time For Changes

A/N: Man, writing has been a struggle as of late. High school is FINALLY over, which means I have the whole summer to write, but… I don't know. I've had trouble getting back into the creative flow, which is probably why this chapter is so disorganized and bleh. It's mostly subplot filler, but it is another chapter nonetheless, so I hope it's okay.

Lucifer grinned, popping his knuckles and stretching his wings, having just appeared at the front door of the White House. He'd been given free reign to do whatever he wanted, within reason as Michael had emphasized with his usual big brother glare, to keep the president safe and convince all of the angels to abandon their mad quest for power, and he had every intention of enjoying himself while he was at it. He didn't really know what to expect when he got in there. A full garrison of hostile angels just waiting for an excuse to attack someone? A force of clueless and useless fledglings who think they have what it takes to start an almost rebellion? An empty building? Whatever was waiting for him inside, all he knew was that he was going to have fun deceiving whoever was foolish enough to steal his shtick.

Without knocking he let himself in, rolling his eyes at the attempts to throw him back out. Most of the people he ran into were angels, and he had no qualms about tossing them into walls, throwing them around without concern, or casually snapping one or two of the more persistent ones out of existence. The humans he simply knocked unconscious with little more than a wave of his hand; he had no reason to kill them. Squinting through the walls, he found a room full of his siblings, making his way there without too much opposition. Chuckling to himself, he kicked open the door, the inhabitants of the, rather plain, he thought, conference room immediately on alert. Preparing himself for a fight, he was surprised when one angel stepped forward, attempting to calm everyone.

"Now, now. Be at peace brothers and sisters. I don't think any of us want to fight a battle we can't win." He turned to Lucifer with a hesitant look. "Lucifer. Is there a reason behind this… visit?"

"Mmm… Maybe. See, a little birdie told me that someone was after the President. Something about a power grab, hunting down "traitors", etc., etc. You, uh… You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?" he asked with a smirk. The angel who'd stepped forward grinned, but Lucifer could tell he was a bit uneasy, trying to weigh his options.

"Depends. Do you want in?" Lucifer raised an eyebrow, smirk turning predatory. He hadn't thought that the angels would offer to let him in on their plans so easily.

"And if I did?" Lucifer asked, playing along. The surrounding angels couldn't conceal their looks of shock at his response.

"Then we're happy to have you. After the," he cleared his throat, "Amara situation, many of us were under the impression that you had reconciled with Father and Michael. They were sure that you were sent here to kill us."

"Kill you? After you've made this whole thing so much easier? You control almost everyone in the White House but the president. Do you know how easy it'll be to take full control of the government now?"

"What do you need us to do?" he asked. Lucifer walked over to him, patting him enthusiastically on the shoulder.

"I knew I liked you for a reason, Tamriel. You'll make a wonderful second in command down here. For now, I need you to make sure the president isn't disturbed for the next few hours…" His eyes glowed scarlet briefly, and everyone else in the room held their breath at the power flare. "He and I are going to have a nice, long chat."

XxX

"Yes? I've been on American soil for five minutes, Mick. Honestly, this is the most we've talked in years." It had been a few days since the "Missouri incident" as it had been dubbed, and Mick had finally gotten up the courage to ask Ketch about his idea. He sat in his office of sorts back at HQ, desk neat and orderly, case and intel files stacked neatly, typed up reports stacked horizontally on top of them, computer currently turned off. The rest of the office itself was pretty barren, a few bookcases, a fern, another chair, and a window the only other things in it.

"Not for lack of trying on my part," he replied. "I just… I've got an idea, about how we can get these American hunters on our side."

"Let me guess: you're going to invite them for lunch or coffee or something to that effect; then, you're going to give them your spiel about how amazing the organization is and how we have all of the fun toys and such. Was I right?" Mick scoffed, but couldn't help but smile.

"It's almost like you know me," Mick joked, and he could tell by the huff over the line that Ketch was failing to hold back a smile. "That was the original plan, yes, but I had a feeling that wasn't going to work after… Well, you know."

"Then what are you proposing?"

"I still plan on doing something similar to that, but…" Mick gulped, reassuring himself that he wouldn't spontaneously combust, or something to that effect, if he asked the question. "I was wondering if… Maybe you could… Come with?" There was silence over the line for a moment, and Mick couldn't tell if that was good or bad, so he continued to explain. "I haven't spent a day in the field, can hardly pick up a weapon without doubting my every move. If I give a sales pitch about what we do, no hunter will buy into it. But you? You're our top guy. You have more experience than all of us combined. You're the best hunter this world's ever seen. What would take ten hunters to kill would take you ten minutes or less. You know weapons, strategies, and combat better than anyone. There's not one person in the organization who wouldn't feel safe with you by their side. And—

"If saying yes will get you to stop complimenting me like I'm some sort of deity, then yes. You can stop grovelling, Mick. I'll do it."

"You're serious?"

"Should I change my mind?"

"No no! I just… I didn't think you'd say yes." Ketch sighed in exasperation.

"Why do I get the feeling that there was more to this than just fixing our recruiting problem?" he asked. Mick held his breath for a moment at that. "I suppose I'll see you back at HQ then."

"Right," Mick said as soon as he could think coherently again. "Of course." As Ketch hung up, Mick took a deep breath, slowly lowering the phone. Why did he do this to himself? Ketch was one of the most observant people he knew. Of course he'd see right through him! True, they did have much better odds of successful recruiting if Ketch was with him, but… Really he just wanted to spend some time with Ketch, even if it was a few precious minutes sitting next to him while talking with someone else. Maybe he was still clinging to the image of the boy he knew at Kendricks, but… He shook his head. No use dwelling on that now. He was psyching himself out for nothing. He slumped down in his desk chair, trying to tell himself that everything would be fine.

XxX

"My king?" a low level demon asked, startling Crowley out of his thoughts. He'd been contemplating the new information he'd obtained from Gabriel and Castiel during their last encounter, trying to figure out how to use it to his advantage. So, the devil had a soft spot for everyone's favorite trickster archangel, hmm? He did not appreciate the interruption.

"This had better be good," he told the demon, who slowly backed away as he threateningly rose from his throne. "If I hear one more time that there's to be another meeting about soul quotas—

"It's about the Princes of Hell, um, sire." Crowley froze, closing his mouth and sitting back down, begrudgingly gesturing for the demon to continue. The demon cleared his throat before doing so.

"Well, y-you said to keep our eyes open for anything about Lucifer or the angels, but some of our scouts have seen a few of the Princes of Hell. Both of them were talking with someone when they were spotted, but we don't know what about."

"Which Princes did they find?"

"I… I don't know, sire. I… I was told that that was above my paygrade to know." Crowley sighed, slowly facepalming and trying not to snap the demon's neck.

"How does this information possibly help me if you are telling me the least amount of details possible? Do you have any proof with you?"

"Um, no, my liege—

"Do you at least know which demons saw them? Do you even know who sent you in here to tell me?"

"I-I… No. I-I'm r-relatively new here, actually. I was just the first person they saw when they returned. Th-They were under the impression that you didn't want to be disturbed."

"Is that right? Well, seeing as how every time I turn around someone's telling me about yet another problem that needs my attention, I wonder why?" He leaned forward with a scowl. "All I asked was to be told any information regarding Lucifer or this angel warfare going on. The Princes of Hell aren't my concern. They want to be left alone and they're going to stay that way, understood?" All the while his tone grew more angry with every word. The demon nodded frantically, scrambling from the room before Crowley could say anything else. The King of Hell sighed, leaning back in his throne.

While he probably shouldn't have gotten so hot and bothered by the information, he was a bit tired of everyone dumping their concerns on him. So a Prince of Hell or two showed their faces in public. Big deal. He remembered the last time he sought one out, and he'd received their message loud and clear: Leave them alone. If one of his lowlife subjects decided to meddle… Hell's ranks were spread thin enough already looking into the Lucifer and angel situations. The last thing he wanted to do was try to fend off an angry Prince. And to add to that, he still needed to figure out the connection between everything he'd gathered thus far since Amara and God's departure… Which probably meant dropping by the Winchesters', and as if things weren't already more insufferable than usual… He grabbed his glass to find it, and then the whiskey bottle bottle next to it, empty. And now he needed to go find a drink. Lovely.

XxX

"Nice setup you've got here," the second shadowy figure said, shooting shameless grins at the scantily clad women throwing him enticing, smoldering looks, eyes then gazing around at the grand, tasteful furniture and design of the suite they were currently in. "I can see why he liked masquerading as you." The first shadowy figure, who he'd followed there, hmmphed in response.

"Yeah, and look where that got him: clinging to the Winchesters for a place to stay, to save his miserable life." The second figure raised an eyebrow, amused.

"Well, someone's bitter. What'd he do?" The first figure glared.

"He got my family killed, and what did he do after? He ran, like the coward he is, didn't even stop by to apologize. Bitter doesn't even begin to cover it."

"But you've still got your boys, don't you?" he asked, indicating the three men across the room, currently engrossed in a tense game of poker. The first figure's expression softened at that, warm gaze drifting over his sons.

"I do… But that doesn't mean I don't still have family who are never coming back."

"So that's why you want him. Revenge…" The being's eyes briefly glowed gold with excitement before returning to their natural shade. "I like it." The first figure scoffed.

"It's a better reason than yours." The second figure shrugged, indifferent.

"Maybe, but when it's all said and done, who's getting more out of this? The one getting revenge… Or the one getting a throne?" The first figure sighed.

"That ego of yours is what's going to get you killed one day."

"I could say the same thing about your bitterness."

"Then we understand each other," the second figure stated. The first figure nodded.

"And the plan remains the same." The second figure nodded this time.

"Question is, when do we put it into motion?"

XxX

Jeff swore he wasn't going crazy. Really. But he knew that he could hear someone's voice, someone he'd never met before, in his head. Sat upon his bed, he once again looked around his room, for a shadow or any sign of another person. Nothing.

"Jeff," he heard again, and his head whipped around, heart racing, trying to find the source.

"Wh-Who's there?"

"Someone with your best interests at heart," came the reply.

"Best interests? Who are you? What do you want?"

"My name is Lucifer. I'm an angel who's been sent to watch over you."

"Lucifer? As in the devil? I'm a religious man; I'm no idiot." Suddenly there was a bright flash in front of him, and he shielded his eyes. As the light faded enough for him to see, he was met with the sight of a man with glowing eyes, a huge shadow of six wings behind him, an eyebrow raised in amusement. His jaw dropped in awe at the sight.

"I hate trying to do things the boring, old-fashioned way anyway," Lucifer said, closing Jeff's jaw for him with a smirk as the glowing stopped. "Like I said, the name's Lucifer, angel, sent here to keep you safe, you know." He held out a hand, which Jeff shook after a moment of hesitation. "A pleasure, Mr. President."

"Um, uh… Jeff. You can call me Jeff."

"Well, Jeff, I've been sent because someone told me I was needed here… A lot's gone on recently that's caught Heaven's attention, but you? You're something special. You're a man on a mission. You…" Lucifer walked around a bit, observing Jeff from several angles as he harmlessly sifted through some of his surface thoughts. "Are a true man of faith, aren't you?" he finally asked, stopping in front of him.

"Yes, of course. I want what's best for this country, for its people, and… I want them to be able to lead lives of faith, for faith to be something that connects all of us, to be something we all can embrace. I'm not so naive to wish for it to bring true peace, or for everyone to suddenly be accepting of it, but…"

"You want them to understand how important it is, how powerful it is, for everyone to believe," Lucifer supplied.

"Yes! Are you saying you can help me with that?"

"I can if you let me in. You and I, together, with your position and my charm, would be able to make that and more a reality. All you have to do is say yes."

"Just like that? No strings attached? No selling my soul?" Lucifer scoffed at that.

"I'm not a demon; I don't want your soul. We'd be sharing a body, is all." Jeff met Lucifer's unreadable gaze.

"If I agree to this, we would be partners? We would bring a true era of spirituality to America, and heal old wounds?" Lucifer nodded and Jeff couldn't help but grin. "Then Hallelujah. I humbly accept your guidance… Yes!" Lucifer matched his grin as his form glowed bright, engulfing Jeff as he made himself at home inside his new vessel. Jeff couldn't remember the last time he felt so alive, standing up to look at his reflection in the glass of his window. He let out a short, but excited laugh. "Swell! Now what?"

Jeff's vision changed so that he found himself staring at a perfect clone of himself, who stood a few feet away. He realized he was sat in his favorite armchair shortly after, looking around to see an endless darkness surrounding them. Lucifer watched his gaze wander, answering the question no doubt on the president's mind. "We're in a corner of your mind where it's just you and me. No distractions from the outside, no stray memories or thoughts floating around."

"Incredible," he whispered in awe.

"Well, Jeff, usually I give my hosts more downtime, but in this case I profile as it is. I may need help fine tuning some… protocols… If I'm going to deliver on all the goodness, public service that I promised." Jeff seemed laser focused then, leaning forward and speaking more as the leader of the country.

"I'm happy to help, partner. We're appearing at a series of fundraisers here, backed by a fantastic group of aids."

"So I just focus on the big picture."

"The team handles the details."

"And day to day routine?" They conversed for some time, and Lucifer found that he almost liked Jeff. As far as humans went, he was tolerable, and seemed to actually be a decent person. There came a point, however, when he realized that while he knew a lot about Jeff as a president, he knew nothing about him as a person. "This is all useful information, of course, but if we're going to pull this off I'm gonna need a few more… personal details. People need to believe that I am, in fact, the President of the United States."

"Where would you like me to start?"

XxX

"Are we sure this was a good idea, sending Lucifer of all people to do this?" Dmitri asked, finishing up with the last patient they needed to tend to for the day.

"Of course it's not a good idea, but it's the only one we have," Ameliel replied. "Besides, if Michael trusts him, then maybe he isn't vying for Heaven's control after all."

"He isn't," Michael told them, entering the infirmary, looking lost in thought. "What reason would he have to want power over Heaven?"

"Because it's Lucifer and that's kind of his thing?" Dmitri answered.

"You don't know a thing about him," Michael fired back, focusing his icy gaze on Dmitri, who averted his after a moment.

"All I'm saying is that I don't trust him. How do we know that, when everything is said and done, he won't go right back to his old ways? How do we know he's really on our side?" Ameliel watched Michael struggle not to say what they both knew he truly wanted to. The fact that she of all angels was trusted with the knowledge that Michael and Lucifer were soulmates said a lot about Michael's trust in her, and she didn't want him to reveal his secret unless he wanted to.

"Because he has a reason to be on our side again: his brother." Michael looked to her as she continued. "His once sworn enemy is now once again his closest sibling. Their war with each other is over, and they finally have a chance to be a family again. Why would Lucifer throw that away for a seat on the throne?" She met Michael's gaze and received a grateful nod, sending him a reassuring smile in return.

"Well, even if that is true, I, for one, still don't trust him."

"Don't take his threatening to kill you personally," Michael told him. "He's done it to a lot of us."

"I-I am not!" Dmitri argued defensively. "And that's not what this is about. I just think that it'll take a lot more than making up with you to completely change Lucifer's allegiance, which has always been to himself!"

"Dmitri, that's enough," Ameliel warned. He turned to her with a frown.

"Oh, are you on his side now? Is he suddenly as trustworthy as Michael?"

"I don't trust Lucifer any more than you do, but right now he is an ally. Without him, Michael would probably have had to undertake the mission himself because our efforts are needed here. I would much rather Lucifer be in harm's way than the leader we just got back."

"And I doubt the two of you, even with your millennia of experience, would be able to weather a full scale attack by yourselves," Michael added. Dmitri looked between the two, defeated.

"I meant no offense. I'm merely making my thoughts known."

"Not every angel is as calm as we are, Dmitri. You'd do well to remember that the next time you decide to lose your temper," Michael told him, now fully healed wings flaring powerfully, form glowing with grace. Both Dmitri and Ameliel's eyes grew wide at the display. "Because it might be your last."

"You're healed," she spoke after a moment, in awe.

"Yes," he replied, eyes glowing electric blue, "And I'd like to see another angel try and stop me from defending my home."

Closing A/N: Sheesh, this short-ish chapter is a mess, but I also needed a way to further most of my subplots without throwing them randomly into the main plot, so this chapter was born. Hopefully, next chapter will get us through a few episodes worth of story content so that everything can start flowing together smoothly. Sorry for the long wait on this one, and here's to hoping we get another chapter soon!