Chapter Thirteen
(A/N: Alright, you guys are caught up with me. Work has been crazy lately, so thirteen is the most that I've written. I try to keep one chapter ahead, but when they started scheduling me more hours, that became impossible. Which is a good thing, since fanfiction sadly doesn't pay the bills. Anyway, hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! I'm going to try to get fourteen posted by next Monday, but no promises.)
Rowena entered the kitchen, looking positively chipper, asking for a tea pot. I groaned, just remembering our strange company we had left in the war room. I jumped down from the counter, into Sam's arms, before sidestepping him, and pointing to the cabinet where we stashed the kettle and tea bags.
"Be a dear?" Rowena turned around to Sam, pointing to the kettle on the top shelf. Neither of us were tall enough to reach it.
"I've got this," I stated, wanting her out of my presence. "I'll make the tea. You go on."
She gave me a look that bordered on suspicious and I tried to give her the warmest smile possible.
"It helps to keep busy. It's my only contribution."
"Well, okay then, I'll go check on the patient." She turned, her red curls bouncing behind her and left the room.
As I was climbing onto the counter to grab the tea, I felt Sam's hand on my lower back. I looked over as he reached up, grabbing both items easily.
"Thanks, babe," I muttered, as I turned on the stove. He didn't leave my side, so I leaned into him, allowing him to hold me, as we watched the water start to boil. "Is Chuck dying?"
"Yeah." He sounded exhausted, more tired than I'd ever heard him.
"What are we going to do?" I couldn't stop the tears forming in my eyes, as I imagined the world ending. Visions of a future with Sam, marrying him, having his children, all disappearing before my eyes.
"I don't know." His hands found my hair, and he gave the hair tie a gentle tug, undoing my braid. He stared off and his fingers stroked my hair.
The whistle of the kettle spooked us both, and I stepped back, pulling it off of the burner and turning the heat off.
"Here," he whispered, as he held out his hands. I handed him the teacups. "You don't have to go out there, with them, if you don't feel comfortable."
"Sam, today, I was under the same roof as Lucifer, then Amara. I think I can handle Crowley and his mother." I gave him a brave smile and carried the kettle out of the room.
"Samantha!" Crowley shouted, holding up a bottle of whiskey he had found somewhere. "Lacey, love, come have a drink!"
I rolled my eyes at the back of his head, before handing the teacups to Chuck and Rowena, pouring the water into them. I took a seat at the other end of the table, curling my legs up against me as I observed the unlikely group gathered in the library.
"What are we doing?" Sam's voice, a moment later, startled me, and my legs slipped out of the chair.
"Nothing," Rowena responded, sweetly.
"Exactly!" He sounded pissed. "Amara is out there eating the freaking sun, and we're doing nothing." I exchanged worried looks with Chuck from across the table.
"And you have a better idea?" Crowley spoke up from the corner, sipping Dean's secret stash of booze.
"Yes, anything! That's my better idea, because anything is better than this!" He made a sweeping gesture with his hand around the room.
Chuck set his teacup down and looked up at my boyfriend sadly.
"Sam, I get it. Even if we could lock Amara away, it wouldn't do any good now." My eyes snapped to Chuck's face, confused. "I'm dying, and when I'm gone, the cosmic balance between light and dark." his gaze looked away, lost in thought. "It's over."
Everyone's faces looked somber, and I discreetly wiped the tears off of my cheeks. Sam sniffed, and I knew that he was near tears too. He slammed his hand on the table.
"All right, well, if we can't cage her, we have to kill her."
I heard Crowley whisper something from his spot, and looked down at the table. We were all silent for a few minutes, before I heard Sam shift beside me, pulling his phone out of his pocket.
"Dean, I've got an idea. Head on back." He hung up the phone, setting it on the table next to my hand, and looked over at Chuck. "Will it work?"
"It might," was his only reply, leaving the rest of us in the dark about the exchange.
Once Dean and Castiel arrived back at the bunker, we all gathered around the library, while Sam explained his plan.
"Look, you've got darkness and light. If you take one side away," I nodded, mostly to myself, as I started to see Sam's idea come together in my head.
"It upsets the scales, the whole balance of the universe," Cass stated, starting to get the picture as well.
"Exactly, but if you take both away, and now both sides of the scale are empty,"
"It's balanced," I muttered, looking over at Chuck. He nodded, sadly.
"Right, yeah, of course," Dean nodded, walked to stand behind me. I looked up and saw that he had a skeptical look on his face. "Hey, I'm game, but how exactly are we going to do this? I mean, Lucifer hit her with a hand of God, and well, we saw how that turned out."
"She does seems impossible to destroy,"
"Is she, Chuck?" Sam asked, solemnly.
"Well, I," he paused, taking a deep breath. "I mean, I," He continued to falter, stuttering over the words until we all leaned in, shouting his name. He stood up. "Alright, fine. The Darkness might have a weakness." He walked over to where Crowley was sitting and snatched the bottle of whiskey from his hand. "Light."
"He tells us now," Crowley responded from the corner, sarcastically.
"What? I just wanted to trap her. I didn't want to murder her."
"Okay, but now that we're trying to end her," Sam interrupted, trying to get everyone back on track. "How much light are we talking about?"
"I don't know," Chuck laughed, slightly. "Ten thousand suns set to supernova."
I groaned, putting my head in my hands.
"Well, you're God, so just God them up," Dean added.
"Look at me," Chuck stated wearily. He was slumped over in one of the armchairs, holding the bottle of liquor he hadn't even opened. "I'm not in the best shape right now."
The group argued around me for a bit, before finally formulating a plan. They were going to gather enough souls to take down Amara, and Rowena would build a bomb out of them. Once the details were set, the group split up. Castiel was heading to heaven to collect souls there. Crowley was doing the same in Hell. The boys were getting ready to go to Waverly Hills Sanatorium, which apparently was chock full of ghosts.
"I want to come with you," I whispered to Dean, already knowing that Sam would have outright refused.
He shot me a look that was in between shock and admiration.
"I don't think that's a good idea."
"Dean, come on, I'm going stir crazy here. I haven't left the bunker in almost a week."
"Even if I agreed, what makes you think Sammy would?"
I rolled my eyes, groaning and throwing my hands up.
"Fine, I'll stay here, hold down the fort, again." I stomped out of the library and down the hall, slamming the door to my studio.
"Are we really going to fight about this again, Lace?" Sam had cracked open the door, and was leaning against the door frame.
"No, I don't want to fight, not if it might be the last time I see you." My anger had deflated, and had left me beyond exhausted. I was curled up in my Gran's rocker, holding my knees to my chest. He walked over, kneeling in front of me. "I'm tired of feeling useless. The world is freaking ending, and there's nothing I can do to help."
"You do help. You take care of us." I snorted, rolling my eyes, but he ignored it and continued. "You feed us, and clean up after us, without a single complaint. And even if it doesn't seem like it, you being here, while I'm out there, helps me. When you're here, I know that you're safe, and I don't have to worry." He placed a hand on my cheek.
"And what about my worries? Sam, every time you leave, I feel like you're never coming home. Or Dean. You've become my entire world. I don't know how I would survive without you."
"Not going to happen. I'm not going anywhere." He smiled, trying to cheer me up, but it wasn't working.
"Saying that is just naïve and you know it. You don't have to tell me all of your stories for me to know that some pretty fucked up shit happens out there. Dean has been to Hell, he's been a demon. You can't even tell me what you've been through. And you were ready to take the Mark. So don't tell me that I have nothing to worry about. It isn't fair."
"You're right," he sighed, rubbing his eyes, and then stood up. "But this is the life. I wish I could tell you that it could be different."
"You can," I stood up, facing him. He started to protest, but I held a hand up. "It can be. Walk away."
"Lacey, that's not fair."
"I know. It's unfair of me to ask." I stepped into his arms, placing my hands on his chest. "But Sam, I still have to ask. This time, two weeks ago, I thought that you and I had all the time in the world to live our lives. But the first thing I thought of when I realized that Chuck was dying, was all that I would miss out on, with the world ending. I would never marry you, have kids, and grow old with you." I looked up and saw tears start to form in his eyes. "Now that I have realized, it's all that I want. But, I can't have that, won't have that, with the way things are now. I can't be sitting at home for the rest of our lives, wondering if you're going to come home. I can't constantly stress about what I would tell our children why they're dad isn't around anymore." I could see the wheels turning in his head. "Listen, just think about it, okay? I will always stand by you, no matter what. This isn't an ultimatum. I'm just suggesting that after you save the world one more time, you let someone else take over for a change. You've done more than your share."
I grabbed his hand, leading him out of the room. We walked, hand in hand, silently to the garage, where Dean was loading up the trunk of the Impala with shotguns and boxes of salt.
"We good to go?" He asked, looking between us, apprehensively.
"Yeah," Sam cleared his throat. "Let's get this done."
"I love you," I wrapped my arms around his torso, giving him a squeeze. "Be careful, guys."
As I watched the Impala pull out of the garage, I hoped that it would be the last time sending them off.