Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. Technically, I don't even own the OCs, cause they're based off of my friends. I only own the idea.
Thankfully, the angels had decided to fly to Tennessee, so the car wasn't cramped beyond reason. Or suddenly expanded via Trickster powers.
Denise and I weren't terribly impressed with Vanderbilt, as we hadn't really ever seriously considered it. Luce had shown up halfway through dinner, though Gabe remained missing. I really hoped he wasn't pranking some unsuspecting person.
"You should apologize to him," Luce reprimanded. "Or at least explain to him what your intentions are."
"Intentions?" I sputtered. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"You are sending him mixed signals," he told me slowly. As if I was supposed to know.
"Mixed signals for what?" I rubbed my temples. "I haven't done anything!"
He sighed, as if this was a great burden. "You told him he wasn't important to you, that you had other priorities. You then built a nest with your friend—"
"Denise and I were watching television! In comfort! It's a human thing—well, more of a girl thing, but that's not the point. How is that mixed signals?" I folded my arms.
"Nesting is very important in angel courtship—"he tried.
"Dude, Denise is like my sister! That would be like you and…and Castiel!"
The grimace that crossed Luce's face got the point across. "Nevertheless, you should be telling him this, not me."
"Buddy, I would love to, but he's not actually answering my calls, and until he starts acting like the eons-old being he is, I'm going to let him work off his sulk."
"Very mature."
"Hey," I snarled, whirling around and stabbing my finger into Luce's face. "I am not the one who ran off with no explanation, without waiting, and is giving the other the cold shoulder. I know he's your brother, but he's being an idiot right now. And I'm getting really tired of you defending him. Why can't you both just leave me alone?"
Denise sat up in the pull out bed next to the window of the hotel room. "Rhiannon, did you just do something stupid?"
I winced, shaking my head. "No, we're just trying to work something out. Get some more sleep." I waited until her breath evened out before rolling onto my back and heaving a sigh.
I was so screwed.
Neither of them showed up the entire Saturday. Denise kept shooting me suspicious looks, but didn't comment. At least not out loud. Mostly because Crowley and Meg showed up. That was a complication we really didn't need right now.
They'd arrived within seconds of each other, just after my sister and parents had left for her soccer game. Typically, they started sniping at each other, ignoring our bewildered stares.
"OI!" I eventually shouted, immediately getting their attention. "Mind telling me exactly what you are doing here?"
Both demons fell to the floor, bowing. Denise fell to the floor, laughing. I was distinctly unimpressed, and frowned at the lot of them.
"We came to find you, My Lord‒" Crowley began, breaking off at my horrified flailing.
"I am not your Lord!"
Meg snickered. "The Winchesters told us where you were, Luciannon."
The look on my face sent Denise into renewed spasms.
"I am going to kill them," I snarled, half-standing.
"We came to discuss the state of Hell," Crowley interjected quickly. I paused, staring at him.
"Why? I thought you were doing just fine." I tilted my head.
"He's the self-proclaimed regent, but he's thrown out the rulebook," Meg objected heatedly. "There are procedures, traditions‒"
"Hell needs to improve, times are changing!" Crowley snapped.
"Improve how?" I asked. He turned to me.
"Torture is all well and good, but true hell requires a little more creativity than just pain can give us. Queuing and cubicles are the bane of everyone's existence. And paperwork."
"He's gotten rid of the torture completely! You can't give equal treatment in Hell!" Meg looked at me hopefully.
I raised my eyebrows at Denise. She tilted her head and frowned thoughtfully. I shook my head. She shrugged. We turned back to the demons.
"Okay, ground rules," I began. "Any children in hell twelve in under need to be sent to Heaven. Talk to Castiel, work out an arrangement. You will both be co-regents in my stead, since I don't fancy the day-to-day running of Hell. For serious offenders‒serial killers, pedophiles, rapists, child and wife abusers, that sort of thing‒bring back the torture. Physical or psychological, it's up to you two. For mild offenders and those who sold their souls, stick with Crowley's invention. Criteria and other punishment I'll leave for you to decide. Don't kill each other, and consult me on any major changes or problems."
They nodded and stood, glaring distastefully at each other before disappearing. I sighed and fell back on the bed. "I hate my job."
Denise patted my arm consolingly. "At least you get to delegate. Perks of being the boss."
Sunday, she finally mentioned the elephant in the room.
"So, where are your angels?" she asked casually.
I gritted my teeth. "They are all-powerful beings from the beginning of Time, they don't need a babysitter. And they certainly have other duties than hanging around us 24/7."
She frowned at me. "You upset them again, didn't you?"
I face planted into the blankets. "I don't understand angels. They don't make any sense."
"They could say the same about you," Denise pointed out logically.
"No, they couldn't. Gabriel's been playing Trickster for millenia, and Lucifer practically made studying humans the work of his existence. Humans have zero true lore on angels, much less whatever culture or traditions they have. Though clearly none of them are capable of making sensible conversation." I closed the novel I had been writing while the angels were gone, and shut the laptop.
"You could always pray to them," she suggested.
"What do you think I've been doing?" I sighed. "They refuse to answer me; I'm pretty sure they're ignoring me. I'll just give them some time to cool off. And don't intervene, okay?" I pleaded.
"But‒"
"Look, I know you want to help, but this is between the three of us," I said heavily. "We all misunderstood each other, and I made some mistakes. I'll fix it, promise." I smiled reassuringly.
Denise eyed me doubtfully, but nodded. "If you haven't made up by the end of the week, I'm calling the cavalry," she added.
"Thanks, Denise," I whispered, looking down at my 'Luci Boots.' Black leather cowboy boots with red detailing angel wings and a cross, they were my last attempt at an olive branch. It seemed, however, that Luce had taken my last words to heart; he had even cut me off from his Grace as much as he could. It hurt, admittedly, and I didn't know what else to do.
I just hoped that the damage wasn't permanent, and the angels came back soon.
Monday rolled around, and there was still no sign of the angels. Denise seemed exhausted, as if she had stayed up all night running. She also seemed to have dropped the subject, which should have made me suspicious instead of relieved.
When Denise was worried, she never totally dropped the subject.
Still, I was distracted and nervous all day...which was probably Gabe's point, the bastard. Not only was I preoccupied with the archangels, but I had a math quiz to make up and an Apotheosis meeting after school, which Denise wouldn't be able to make. Life as Lucifer's vessel should not be this complicated. Right?
I rubbed my temples as the final bell rang, my headache growing. I would need to go all the way to the math building, clear across campus. Awesome.
I squinted down the hallway. "Denise? I thought you weren't going to be here today."
"I wasn't," she sneered. "But there's been a change in schedule."
Her eyes flashed black. Demon-black.
Crap.
I had no Grace, no angels hanging around, no demon-killing knife or the Colt; I didn't even have a regular weapon, much good it would have done me. And I sure as hell wasn't going to pray and hope someone would answer. The last thing I needed was divine wrath raining down on Denise and whoever was riding her. I wanted my friend to come out of this intact, thanks.
I'm so screwed, I thought, staring at the vicious grin distorting her kind face.