Sometimes I wish I had a beta. It's 3am in the morning here, guys. I'm exhausted. I'm sure there are mistakes. ^_^;
Thanks for sticking with me. I would've made this longer but this is... well. It is what it is.
Been very busy. Now free.
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Chapter Twenty-One, Just One Yesterday
She screamed.
Brady -the demon -it smirked at her, his eyes flickering back to blue. "Would you feel better if I let you do it next time?" he asked, pulling the blade free as though it didn't hurt. The blood gushed around the wound, his white shirt staining quickly turning red.
And maybe it didn't hurt. Maybe demons felt pain differently. After all, he hadn't even grunted when he stabbed himself. What, did he think he was invincible or something? He turned the knife idly, the blade coated in his blood as he offered the handle to her.
"Seriously, go for it. There's nothing left of Brady in here," he grinned arrogantly. "I know you have a lot of reasons, so if you'll feel better…"
Alyssa took the knife, staring at him as blood stained his shirt. He didn't look like he was in pain. He didn't even look like he cared. And maybe he didn't -why would he? But it was hard, to look into those eyes, to remember how he used to hold her and kiss -that Brady was gone. She had known on one level, after that night she had stayed at Sam's when she knew things would never be the same. She hadn't known that the two weeks prior when she kissed Brady goodbye -she hadn't known that would be the last time. She hadn't wanted to be friends or anything when he came back.
Because he was a different person.
He was a demon. He had killed Jess. He had made her life hell. And he would kill her if it came down to it. All to make sure that Sam played right into his hands -or Lucifer's hands, or whomever's. It didn't really matter, in the end, did it? He wasn't Brady. He would never be Brady, even if Brady miraculously survived.
Her hand shook even as she held the knife. If it was anyone else… no, that shouldn't even matter, should it? Brady wouldn't want to live like this. Being dead would be better. But, god, it had so long… so long. Could killing him be the answer? She didn't think it would do anything. Nothing for her, anyways, that was for certain.
Brady's laughter broke the silence that surrounded her concentration. "You can't even do it can you?"
Could a demon survive without the host's heart? she wondered as she looked up at her ex-boyfriend. No time like the present to really find out, she thought. She tightened her grip on the handle of the cleaver, taking a breath as she solidified that this really was the action she was going to take. And before she could reconsider, she stepped forward and drove the knife into his chest.
He didn't even bat an eyelash. "Oh dear, Aly. Really?" He shook his head, like he was disappointed.
It happened to suddenly for her to really understand what he had done. The first thing she registered was his hand moving and the second was the blur of marble before her head collided with the countertop with a sickening crunch that left her dazed and blinking against blurred vision. She groaned weakly, sitting up straight, turning only to find that his face was right in front of hers as he grinned smugly. He pulled the blade free of his chest.
"I didn't know you liked to play so rough," he teased, but his eyes were black with intent and his voice was rough. "Little Brady never knew what he was missing out on."
And then he smiled, and it was all teeth and anger as he moved in closer to her -and then, a sound that she hadn't realized she would be so grateful to hear in her life as Katy Perry's Hot and Cold blasted through, a trilling ringtone. By the disgust on Brady's face, she safely guessed that the caller was not welcome as he pulled his Blackberry out and answered with a meek "yes sir?"
She took what moments she had to get herself together, ignoring the pounding in her skull even as she could feel the tug of exhaustion weighing on her bones. Having a concussion was definitely not what she needed right now. She set the cleaver on the counter, careless of the blood that spread out over the white marble. Brady was still on the phone but she took a moment of satisfaction at the dirty look he gave her. Stabbing his heart had done nothing. Maybe the person in there was dead already. Which meant that Brady was walking around in a dried out old husk, just like he said. In which case, all she needed to do was to get him out of the body. Brady deserved at least a decent burial.
Brady was not the monster. And god, Sam… what would Sam do when he knew?
"Of course sir," Brady ground out. "Yes sir, gladly -no I wouldn't. I understand. Right away."
With a snap he ended the call and turned to her, his eyes flashing black and panic surrounded her in a terrifying haze as he reached towards her.
"Looks like our rendezvous will have to wait a bit," he sneered as he dragged her out of the house. "I'm needed elsewhere."
Whether it was a blessing or a curse, Alyssa wasn't too sure. But she felt grateful to know that she was going to outlive this moment even as she stumbled after him. A part of her wanted to lay down and have a nap, but the part of that had taken a few medical classes as part of psychiatry knew better than that. Forensic psychiatry hadn't required it, but she took them as elective. For fun, she had said at the time. Now that seemed to have turned for survival. School wasn't as useless as she had feared it would be. Taking a nap could help her recover if she was concussed; it would also leave her more vulnerable to Brady and whatever else was going on.
So her only option really, was to continue on after her ex-boyfriend as he led her out to the parking lot and to his fancy, expensive convertible. She didn't have to say, didn't even need to think it as the passive-aggressive grin wormed it's way onto her face as he forced her into the passenger door. He didn't hesitate to whack her with his open palm, across her face before locking the doors, walking around, unlocking them and getting in. It was a good idea, except for the part where she wasn't feeling quite up to escaping. Maybe she could have tried. Maybe she could have outrun him, for a while. But he would have found her and dragged her back and that would have been worse than sitting in the car and letting him do whatever he wanted.
Also… it was clear Brady's demon shared some of Brady's issues. Namely being overcompensating for a certain lacking of something on his person.
One week later.
Kat had gone after the demon Crowley. And she did it without the Winchesters too, but the lead she thought she had turned out to be totally useless because where Crowley had been staying was completely demolished and there was nothing left. She didn't tell the Winchesters what she had found, just like she hadn't told them about Alyssa. It was eating Sam from the inside, but there was nothing he could do about it. Whether or not Kat told him anything was irrelevant. He and Dean had bigger things to worry about and as much as she wanted to, she wasn't going to fail the earth in order to save one person. As much as she really wanted to. Alyssa was far too nice to be dealing with any of this crap but there was just… there wasn't anything she could do for the girl.
Seeing Crowley sitting beside her -she had been given some very detailed descriptors of the English bastard -in the back of the Impala was one of the last things she expected. And she had her knife in hand first, and was moving in on him when he effortlessly blocked her arm and knocked the knife from her hand and it was even harder to regain control as the car swerved and they pulled over.
"Where is she?!" Kat growled, even as Crowley disappeared to outside. She launched out the back door, looking around warily.
"'Fraid I can't help you in finding the darling," he said, all suave charm and sincere smiles. "They burned down my house! They ate my tailor! So forgive me," he ground it out meaninglessly, "for not being more considerate but we've got bigger problems on our plate."
"Like what?" Dean snapped, his attention divided between Sam -who had a gun on Crowley -and Crowley himself.
The arrogant bastard just shrugged, looking at Sam fearlessly. "Gonna put the gun away, moose?"
"Kat, who are you talking about?" Sam asked, even as he kept his gun trained on Crowley.
The demon rolled his eyes exasperatedly. "Honestly, you want the Horsemen and I can get you the next best thing to Pestilence. He's holed up somewhere, I can get you his right hand man." He grinned.
Sam didn't share his humor, although Kat could tell that Dean was seriously considering Crowley's words. And honestly, it wasn't as though they could afford to wait longer on this.
"Kat?" Sam pressed.
She turned to him, glancing at Crowley. What was she supposed to say? It wasn't like Sam hadn't already guessed it. "I was… misinformed that he might be aware of Alyssa's whereabouts," she hedged cautiously.
Crowley chuckled, "Oh I know just where she is." He eyed Sam's gun with disinterest. "Same place as Pestilence's right hand."
The smirk that Crowley gave them was enough for Kat to know he was telling the truth. He had come with a royal flush prepared against their meager two pair. And now that they had laid their cards down, they had nothing in reserve while he had everything. Even if he didn't have a gun, it was like bringing a knife to a gunfight, Kat realized. She watched as Sam put the gun away.
"We lost good people on that suicide run," Sam growled. "What makes this time any different?"
"Satan isn't there," Crowley replied cheerily. "Just a little old CEO and a couple of guards. I'll be needing Dean-o here and we'll break in, deal with Tyson and be right on out with your little old girlfriend."
And that was the plan that Kat and Sam were both forced to agree to as Dean drove off with Crowley. Kat didn't like it. Sam liked it even less. But there really were no alternatives this time.
"He's gonna get himself killed," Sam said softly, staring at the floor of Crowley's shack.
"Dean can handle himself," she replied. "Not to say that he isn't being an idiot… but we have to do this." She set her hand on his back.
"Why didn't you say anything? About Alyssa?"
Kat looked down at him, into his sincere green eyes. She could feel how tense his body was, like he was just waiting to attack something. Guiltily, she looked away. "Because there was nothing you guys could do that I couldn't."
"You had no right," Sam said quietly. "I've lost everyone that was ever important to me."
"You're right. But you're the one who can save the world, not me," she replied carefully.
Dean looked almost sick when he came back, after Tyson was carefully put away in the living room and placed on lock down. Sam was outside, cooling his head off. It wouldn't help. Kat glanced towards the CEO, sitting there so smug despite the blood all over his face.
"He doesn't have her," Dean said, softly. "She's… he gave her to Lucifer."
"What the hell does the Devil need her for?" Kat asked, frowning. "He could be lying."
"He isn't. I checked his place himself. It looks like she was there… there was, Kitty, there was a lot of blood."
Kat bit her lip roughly. "What does this even mean?"
Dean looked almost unsure, setting his hand on her shoulder. "We can't… If we do this, we can get her back."
And so they would have to, as she knew damn well.
Keeping Kat unaware of his plan was the hard part, Sam knew as he shoved the chair under Dean's door. The second challenge would be to keep her out of the way. Which he accomplished by tricking her into an empty room and using the same trick he had on Dean, with the chair. She unfortunately had a window, but it would take her a little while to get desperate enough to break out that way.
He hurried down to the living room, to where Brady Tyson was tied up. Looking as smug as ever.
"You know, Alyssa did say you were looking a little buffer these days Sam, but wow," he whistled mockingly, "overcompensating for something perhaps? Maybe the lack of women in your life?" He smirked, eyes dancing.
Sam didn't waste his time, punching him in the face. "What the hell did you do to her, you prick?" he growled.
She was possibly okay, but from the signs of blood around Brady's condominium things weren't looking so great. Brady spat out the blood in his mouth, that cocky smirk there. Sam was dying to get Ruby's knife, to kill the sonuvabitch but he would have to wait. At least until he knew what Brady had done to Alyssa. She didn't deserve this, goddammit. She hadn't wanted this life -no one had. But she had a future before all of this. Before Brady.
"Ooh connecting the dots are we?" Brady wheedled. "I introduced you to Jess. Technically I introduced you to her, the little busybody. She couldn't keep her hands to herself, you know? Unfortunately she didn't know how to put her mouth to a better use-"
Sam's fist seemed to do the trick, silencing the demon. "Don't you talk about her that way," he growled. "When you were human -she meant something to you."
Brady scoffed, "So what? She's just a worthless meat suit now."
Sam hit him again, mostly because it made him feel better. God, he couldn't imagine if something happened to her. Not because of him. Alyssa was just so… She was so herself that he couldn't imagine her being any other way. She was his best friend. And he wasn't done trying to patch things up between them. Even if he didn't have anytime left, when he found her. If.
He hadn't saved Jess. Or Madison. He hadn't saved his father. He was unable to save Jo or Ellen and instead left them both to die. Hell, he hadn't even been able to save Dean. And they expected him to stop Lucifer? He was supposed to stop the Apocalypse. And he… he needed Alyssa.
"Then what's she doing at Lucifer's feet?" Dean demanded as he came out to stand by Sam. "I can't make sense of that one."
Brady rolled his shoulders in a poor imitation of a shrug, but it was about all the movement he could accomplish with how restrained he was. "He's probably prepping her for the apocalypse. You know that whole thing for having a viable vessel…"
Sam felt as though the ground had opened up beneath him and swallowed him whole as he stared at Brady.
"It's nothing unusual, really. I mean Nick could contain him, for a little while. But really, his vessel deteriorates exceptionally fast. She won't survive it." He grinned, all teeth.
"Alyssa Jones, is it?" he inquired, turning to look at her. His flesh looked almost like it was rotting off his own body.
"Y-yes," she offered, uncertain. Brady had sent her along with different demons until she finally wound up with Meg again, a few miles out from Detroit itself. A lot of car riding and no breaks in between.
"You've caused some trouble, it would seem." He smiled knowingly and she suppressed a shudder. "Azazel couldn't stop whining about you. And it would seem that Tyson had similar troubles." He pursed his lips, tilting his head to the side as he examined her from afar.
She couldn't help the shudder that went through her and was grateful he was so much further away.
"Don't worry, child," he crooned softly, stepping towards her. "You want to help Sam right? You want to save him?"
Alyssa nodded fearfully, looking up at him. What was the point in lying now anyways? There was nothing he could gain from her honesty.
"I have a proposition for you." His grin was entirely too predatory for her comfort, but if it could help Sam...
Really, nothing from Lucifer would ever help Sam in the long run. He was more concerned with destroying the earth and human kind in some jealous fight against his brothers and to make a stupid point to his father. But if she could do something, to buy Sam time... they needed whatever help they could get at this point. And from what Crowley had let slip during her captivity, the Winchesters were well on their way with the Horsemen's rings. So all she had to do was give Sam what he needed, really.
"Yes?" she asked, wary.
"Nick here... he's temporary, really. Plan B material. But he's not the only one who's qualified for that position." Lucifer smiled at her, crouching down to ghost his hand over her head. "You're so stubborn," he patted her cheek roughly. Cruelly. "Should we just get to business then?"
"I haven't agreed to your terms."
"I haven't given you any either," he retorted, obviously amused. "There aren't any, really. You can either give me your body or I will kill you."
Alyssa eyed him distrustfully. "Why would I agree to either?" If she accepted... she wouldn't be able to contain him. There wouldn't be enough room for all of his corrupt grace and her battered, tiny soul. He would burn her into a husk. There would be nothing left. Only Sam could do that.
"Death won't be pleasant. But there are things worse than death, of course, if that doesn't scare you. Would you like to be a pitiful historian, watching as I turn this planet into the beauty it was meant to be? Because I can."
Alyssa peered up at him meekly. What was she supposed to do? "Please... I just... Don't kill Sam."
"I wouldn't kill him," Lucifer cooed, nearly sounding reassuring. "I would never kill him."
Asking him to save the planet was pointless. What else - "I want to see my family. I want to tell them that I was -am- innocent. You know when Sam's coming, right? I can be back before then. You can -you can have me for that. Just... let me see my family."
Lucifer smiled, but it never touched his eyes. "I can do that."
Even as she was bustled into a car by Meg, who was grimacing the whole time, Alyssa was desperately trying to come up with some way to get Sam out of this situation. To get the world out of it. If Lucifer were to use her... She didn't want to think about the consequences even as the images ran unbidden through her mind. Like a scripted play, Sam would surrender and give in, perhaps thinking it was really her. But then, with Satan's penchant for pride, he couldn't stand to do something as ridiculous. He was the wounded brother, the one fighting to fix the world as he saw fit. Lucifer would never pretend to be her. But the illusion could be enough. If Sam still had feelings for her, of any kind. If Sam was clinging onto his guilt then they were all going to lose.
But there had to be something. Something they hadn't thought of before. Some way that she could help them. Even as they drove down the freeway towards her hometown, she tried to think of a solution. Because she was not going to be the reason that humanity died. They could still stop it. Right? Crowley had said that the Winchesters might be able to do it, that they had a plan courtesy of an archangel. God -if he was still with them at this point -was with them. The world couldn't end.
But it could and it was an all too terrifying reality as Meg bustled her onto a plane, ignoring the scandalized looks and the security. She neutralized them. With too much force. Alyssa let herself be dragged along, wearily accepting that if she did make it out from this, the world would probably think she was a terrorist. Which was worse than being a murderer, really. By a long shot.
When Meg's attention wasn't entirely focused on her, Alyssa managed to "borrow" her neighbour's cell phone. She would need to do some research. Lucifer could be as certain as he wanted of the outcome -and maybe that was a weakness, some way to get to him. Abruptly, there was a flash and the airplane jostled violently in sudden turbulence that sent Meg flying as she clung to her seat.
And when she turned, she spotted Castiel sitting next to her. He glanced towards where Meg was and then leaned over to Alyssa. He whispered, barely able to be overheard over the low murmur of passengers. Her eyes widened and he was gone in another flash and she cried out as turbulence hit again. Meg glowered, taking her seat next to Alyssa. She knew that Meg could ask, but she wouldn't tell her. Or anyone else what Castiel had said. Meg could torture her, but then she would be defying Lucifer's orders and if there was one thing Meg wouldn't do, it would be to defy her father.
Lucifer as a father was a ridiculous concept entirely. But no more crazy than what the angel had said.
"You can save him. Just say yes, when it's time, and jump."
Just... let go.
Would Sam hate her, she wondered. Dean wouldn't. Kat couldn't. But Sam might. She smiled weakly to herself. But he would be alive and so would everyone else. If what Castiel had said was true...
If was good.
Alyssa leaned back in her seat, smiling. She could do that.