.-.-. Falling.-.-.-.
Summary:
With the memories of what happened merely two months ago still burning freshly in Dean's mind, he's trying his hardest to make sure his biggest secret remains just that, a secret - from the entire world. But when you're the Devil himself… how long can you keep yourself and your brother safe from a demon with other plans in mind? Sequel to Lucifer.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or anything associated with the show.
Quick reminder, this takes place during Season 2 and is an AU.
Author Notes: Thank you to everyone for reading. A quicker update this time and a slightly longer chapter than usual... It's also the penultimate chapter ("Nobody says penultimate!"), which means that the next chapter will be the last.
I have it all planned out, it's just a matter of getting it down. I'm hoping I'll be able to get it uploaded quickly, but with it being the last chapter, it might take a bit more tweaking than my usual chapters. So, I thank you in advance for your patience. In the meanwhile, I hope you enjoy this chapter!
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Red Sky Morning Without Warning
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Dean found himself edging forward, to the bench that held his mom and her friend. The pair looked so young, early twenties at the most, and Dean wondered if she and John were married yet. He wondered if they had been making plans for their future, discussing children, not knowing what would await them in just a few short years. She brushed her hair behind her ear and smiled with such a contagious intensity that Dean couldn't help but smile too, a warmth spreading throughout him that matched the heat of the sun on that glorious spring afternoon.
He should have known it wouldn't last. He should have known that no one would lock up a memory of happiness behind chains and darkness and wrath. But it was only when he caught sight of the stranger from the corner of his eyes that the cold seeped in again, and he turned reluctantly to look towards the man that came to rest against the waist high fence that surrounded the park, his upper half hanging over it as he looked out across the park with a cold and callous look in his eyes.
A colourful ball rolled across the ground toward the man, toward Lucifer, and small feet followed it, chasing after it and scooping it up into even smaller arms. For a brief moment, Dean worried Lucifer would hurt the child in some way, but as he saw the posture of the young boy change, he realised the child was safe. Possessed by an angel, but safe.
With one last glance toward his mom, Dean let go of a breath, and changed his direction to move toward the angel and Lucifer instead. He could feel Orobas beside him, guiding him toward the conversation that began to unfold in front of him.
"Having fun, Jeremiel?" Lucifer drawled, not even offering the angel a cursory glance.
"You would do well to learn some respect for your betters," was the angel's answer, the words sounding so strange coming from the mouth of a small child.
Lucifer scoffed, a dry smile twisting at his lips. "I would, if I had any."
Dean had no doubt that an insult was running through the angel's mind, but none passed his lips, the gritting of the small jaw suggesting he had swallowed the words instead, small fingers digging into the ball in his grip. When he remained silent, Lucifer spoke again.
"Why did you summon me, Jerry? I'm an important man, so to speak, with important business to attend to." The tone was so careful, so deliberately bored, the raising of the eyebrow added for impact. But it was a façade, and Dean knew all too well about carefully placed masks, about playing a role and keeping his game face on.
Jeremiel tilted his head to the side, considering Lucifer. "He has another job for you."
"And if I don't take it?" Lucifer questioned.
"You don't have a choice in the matter."
"There's always a choice."
Jeremiel elected not to dignify Lucifer with a response to that, instead choosing to move the topic onward. All business. "You are to prevent an uprising in Hell."
At that, Lucifer laughed, long and hard, leaning further over the fence and wiping away an imaginary tear for dramatic effect. "Oh well, if that's it, then I guess I'll be on my way… except, it's never that simple, is it? It's never that clean."
It was here that Jeremiel turned his attention toward Mary and her friend, and Dean felt his breath catch in his throat, already understanding the implication. "The blonde. In five years, she is to bear a child with the potential to take your place in Hell. You understand, of course, that such an event cannot happen – the consequences that would follow."
"Yeah, I saw the movie," Lucifer answered. "Demon child, destined for greatness. I've got to say, didn't end too well for you good guys. But hey, I hear the sequel's out this year. Maybe you guys will win this one."
"Lucifer," Jeremiel admonished, harsh and rough.
Lucifer said nothing further in return, but his jaw tightened, his eyes going to Mary, returning to the topic at hand. "What are you asking me to do? Kill the child?"
"He wants you to kill the woman. Azazel has already laid claim to the child's soul, but if the woman is dead so is his claim."
Lucifer nodded in understanding. "So kill the Virgin Mary before she can get knocked up, eh?"
"She's not…" Jeremiel started, but he shook his head, no doubt deciding not to be provoked by trivial matters. "In a sense, yes. The only request is, try not to make it so messy this time."
Silence. Long and drawn out, then finally, Lucifer spoke. Just one word, but it was enough to get both Dean's and Jeremiel's full attention.
"No."
"I'm sorry?" Jeremiel started, the ball falling from his hands. In the next moment, he had moved to grip the fence in front of Lucifer instead, as if pushing into Lucifer's personal space would somehow intimidate him. "You don't have a choice. This is an order."
"I'm not his soldier anymore."
"We're talking about bringing about the apocalypse here, Lucifer. There is a sequence of events that we must avoid, and that child's birth…"
Lucifer stood up straight, but kept his hands on the fence, the action silencing Jeremiel. "Not my problem. What can I say? I just don't care. You want her dead, then you do it."
"That is not the way this works."
"This? I don't even know what this is anymore. He calls it redemption, you call it punishment… Personally, I call it enslavement. So go and tell our father that I'm done. I'm done with doing his dirty deeds."
"There will be repercussions, Lucifer, for defying him."
"He's already kicked me out of Heaven once. What more can he do?"
The angel looked as if he wanted to say something, but instead he turned and stalked away. About halfway back toward the swings, a ghost of light left the boy and travelled upward into the sky, leaving the child to be just a child once more. He faltered for only a moment before running off to join his friends again, happy in his ignorance.
"I don't understand," was all Dean could manage, trying to wrap his head around the conversation he had just witnessed. He looked to Orobas, but her attention was on Lucifer, her gaze soft and sad. "What just happened?"
"He said no," Orobas answered, "and you should know more than anyone how difficult it is to stand up to your father."
"Orobas…" Dean started, cutting himself short when the same name left Lucifer's lips, and for a brief moment, he thought perhaps the fallen angel could see them.
But the air shifted behind Lucifer, shadows seeping out to take the shape of Dean's demonic guide. A mirror of the woman standing beside him. "My Lord."
"How much did you hear?" Lucifer asked, words directed at the demon even though he kept his gaze ahead, on the park.
She came to stand beside him. "Everything."
"And?"
Silence. Her gaze falling down to the ground.
"You see more than just the present, Orobas. So tell me, is Jeremiel right? If I let the woman and her child live…"
"You will lose your throne… Lucifer, you already know there are those who would see your rule overturned. Belial, Azazel… But if the boy lives, he will be your downfall. Of that, there is no doubt."
"And the rest of it? The arrival of the apocalypse?"
"Even I can't say."
Lucifer nodded, and Dean could feel the weight of the decision in his own chest as if he was the one making it. "Then it's time."
The mirror Orobas reached out to grab Lucifer's arm, shaking her head vigorously. "Lucifer, see reason. Of all the orders to walk away from, this is not one of them. This is not the time to rebel. The child must not be born."
"Do you know how old I am, Orobas?" Lucifer questioned, and her hand fell away as he raised his arm to look at his palm, as if studying it. "Because I don't. I've been around for so long that I can't even remember anymore."
"Lucifer…"
"I'm tired," the words slipped out through Dean's lips before he even realised they had been sitting on his tongue, matching Lucifer's. And as Lucifer raised his gaze to Mary, Dean found himself doing the same. "I am so tired…"
-*-*-666-*-*-
Bobby was waiting for them by the time Sam and Ripper reached Eden. He leaned against his truck, parked up outside a small diner, with a book in one hand and a coffee in the other. Sam regarded the book with narrow eyes, tilting his head to the side to read the title as he approached the older hunter.
"You brushing up on your Latin, Bobby?" he questioned.
"We're going into a potential nest of demons," Bobby answered, only now looking up from the book to greet Sam, "I think it's the least I can do."
Sam nodded, feeling his chest tighten at the thought of what they were about to do. It would be dangerous, there was no doubt about it, but amongst whatever danger and chaos they would face, there was Dean. Stuck in the middle of it, having God only knew what done to him. "Bobby, I… we don't know what we're walking into. Are you sure you want to do this?"
Bobby snapped his book shut and raised his eyebrows at Sam, challenging him. "You think I'd drive all the way out here if I wasn't? Idjit."
At that, Sam could only smile, eyes closing briefly as he bobbed his head. "Thanks, Bobby."
"Yeah, yeah, save the thanks until we've rescued the princess from the dragon. Now, any idea which metaphorical tower he's being kept it?"
To that, the answer was yes. Ripper had been alert since entering the town and Sam was sure that it would take the hellhound no time at all to track down Dean's scent. With the amount of times he had done it in the past, Sam had faith. Still, it surprised him just how quickly Ripper found the place, and before Bobby had even finished the remaining coffee in his cup, they were parked up down the way of what had been an old slaughterhouse, abandoned and shut down no doubt for not keeping up to code.
Despite their careful distance, they were still close enough to see the one demon standing guard by the main entrance as another circled the perimeter. Two demons, that was simple enough, but that was only the outside. Sam dreaded to think what waited for them inside. He opened the colt and glanced down at the single bullet that sat there, chewing at his lip as he did so. One bullet, one shot at Azazel. The rest of the demons they would have to take out with Holy water, iron, and good old Latin rites.
"It doesn't look like doing things quietly is going to be an option," he sighed, tucking the colt into the waistband of his jeans behind his back.
"Then let's make some noise," Bobby answered, slamming the door of his truck closed.
-*-*-666-*-*-
Lucifer rolled his shoulders as best he could with his hands still chained above his head, trying his hardest not to wince from the pain the movement caused. Instead, he allowed his eyes to wander the room, taking in the plaster falling away from the walls to reveal brick, and cracks in the ceilings that came with older buildings. Dirt and grime lined the walls and floor, decades old stains beneath the blood that had seeped from his wounds.
"I've got to say, I love what you've done with the place," he mocked. "Really. It's quite something."
Azazel chuckled, the sound of it dry and rough, like sandpaper, or salt across an open wound. He didn't bother looking up from his table of tools, the fingertips of one hand caressing what looked like a cleaver whilst the other hovered over an array of knives. "Still such a funny guy. It'll almost be a shame to see you die. Almost."
"You can't kill me, Azazel."
The demon wrapped his fingers around a particularly nasty looking hook and turned to face Lucifer once more, his yellow eyes glowing in the darkened room. "That's where you're wrong. Once that soul of yours is completely broken, I just have to kill the human half… and then poof. Bye, bye, Lucy. Because even when ripped to shreds, one part cannot survive without the other."
Lucifer said nothing to that. Just grit his teeth, a sneer twitching at his upper lips.
"But don't worry," Azazel said with a grin, head tilting to the side as he approached Lucifer. He put one hand on Lucifer's shoulder, as if comforting the fallen angel, then in one swift movement, he swung the hook upwards and into Lucifer's side, leaning in as he did so. "I'll make sure you're good and dead before we burn your bones."
-*-*-666-*-*-
They set their trap, now all they needed was a little bait. It wasn't so much that Sam drew the short straw, it was more like he had drawn the only straw, not even giving Bobby a choice in the matter. It made the most sense and they both knew it. Sam was younger and faster. Besides, he had a hellhound to back him up.
He made his move up toward the entrance, waiting until both demon guards were in view. Taking a steadying breath, he pushed himself out into their line of sight and held his head up high, arms open wide. "Hey, you sons of bitches, you been waiting for me?"
Both demons stiffened, going rigid as they looked Sam's way, before sharing a glance and a brief nod. The demon by the doorway took a step forward, but remained silent, and that was all the answer Sam needed. He had their attention, and that was enough.
"Well," he shouted, "come and get me."
He turned and sped back down the way he had come, already hearing the shouts from both demons, their footsteps heavy against the sidewalk as they gave chase. He dared a glance behind, surprised at just how quickly they were gaining on him. They were certainly faster than they looked. But Sam was fast too.
He pushed on, focused on his path and ignored the rustle of the shadows beside him as Ripper raced alongside him. A quick change of direction, down through a darkened alleyway, and he could hear the demons gaining on him. Past a heavy dumpster and fire escape, Sam was nearing the end of the alleyway when he tripped. Stumbling forward, he fell to the ground with a harsh thump, and rolled onto his back just as the demons came to a stop no more than three feet from him.
"Nowhere left to run, boy," the first demon mocked, a grin splitting across his face. "We've got you right where we want you."
"Funny," Sam answered, pushing backward and away from them, swallowing hard before glancing down at the ground below their feet, "I was about to say the same thing."
Eyes widening, both demons gazes fell to devil's trap beneath them at the same time the exorcism began spilling from Bobby's lips from where he stood on the fire escape. One demon took a threatening step forward, but the words brought him to a halt and to his knees. They swore and cursed and dug their heels into the ground, but it was useless.
Still, Bobby paused once Sam had found his feet again, long enough to let Sam speak.
"How many more are inside?" Sam questioned.
When the demons didn't answer, Sam reached into his pocket and brought out a flask of Holy Water, taking his time to unscrew the lid.
"How many?"
"You're too late," was the only answer he received.
Sam's jaw jutted, nostrils flaring, and he took a breath before splashing the demons with the Holy Water. When he stopped, he asked once more, his voice harder, colder. "How many?"
The demon on his knees laughed, a wicked smile on his face once more. Instead of fear, the demon's eyes lit up with delight. "Do your worst. Send us back, because he's already won. You want to know how many more are in there? None. Just him. He doesn't need anyone else because your filthy fallen angel - he's already as good as dead."
The words hit Sam hard, but he steadied his features. Even so, his hand gripped the flask just that little tighter and his heart thudded inside his chest just that little faster.
"Go, Sam," Bobby ordered. "Get to Dean. I've got this."
-*-*-666-*-*-
"Orobas," Lucifer chided, "I can feel your intent."
Dean's attention moved to the demon beside Lucifer. The black had taken over her eyes and seemed to spread out across her the veins surrounding them. If Dean was honest, he could feel it too, and even if he couldn't, it was written clearly on her face and in the way her shoulders tensed and her hands became fists at her sides.
"The child…" she started, but Lucifer interrupted, turning to face her with his head cocked to the side and entire form straightening up.
"Will be born. You will not harm him, Orobas, or the woman."
The words washed over Dean like a wave during a thunderstorm, dragging him down into the dangerous and dark depths below. The memory of the words, the thoughts that accompanied them, they weren't his, and yet, at the same time, they were, and it caused his head to spin. He bent over, hands on his knees, and focused on his breathing, attempting to fight back against the lightheaded feeling he was left with.
"I always knew he would be the death of you," his Orobas spoke from beside him, and he sent her a sidelong glare as she watched Lucifer and her mirror image.
"Hey, I ain't dead yet, sister," he growled out.
She smiled and looked to him. "I wasn't talking to you."
He swallowed hard and raised his gaze once more to consider the person her attention had been on, Lucifer. Only the scene had shifted once again, and whilst Lucifer was still there, the park was not. Instead of a fence, the fallen angel leaned against the hood of a sleek black Impala, back to Dean as he looked toward a familiar house, the lights shining brightly in the darkened street, like a beacon of warmth and happiness.
Pushing through the dizziness, Dean used the Impala to steady himself, the feel of it beneath his skin strangely grounding, helping him to stay focused. It was an anchor, an object of familiarity in the memories that wanted to drag him down and hold him under.
"I have to say," came an unfamiliar voice from behind Dean, but the presence he knew well, even before he say the owner of it or the amber eyes, "I didn't think you would come."
"I knew you would," Lucifer answered, turning around to look at the angel Jeremiel as he approached. "You ever get tired of being my case worker, Jerry?"
Jeremiel came to stand before Lucifer and regarded him for a moment before looking out toward the house. "We all have our crosses to bear, and unfortunately for the both of us, all other angels refuse to have anything to do with you."
"Well, that's angels for you. Sanctimonious dicks." Lucifer leaned further back against the Impala, hands digging into the pockets of the coat he wore. "So what can I do you for, Jeremiel? You here to finish the job?"
"I'm here to give you one more chance, Lucifer."
Lucifer shook his head. "I'm done playing his games. My answer still stands. No."
"So instead you choose to watch over her? And then what?" Jeremiel tilted his head to the side, looking Lucifer over. "You stop anyone who tries to hurt her or the child?"
"Don't make it sound so righteous," Lucifer answered, his face twisting up into a grimace as if Jeremiel's words pained him.
Jeremiel let go of a scoff. "There is always a third option. He's willing to make you a deal."
"Don't you know you shouldn't make deals with devils?"
But Jeremiel continued on as if Lucifer hadn't even spoken. "If the child is to be born, he will need a guardian, to keep Azazel and any others at bay. But… your presence, as you are, it would only attract trouble."
Lucifer narrowed his eyes at Jeremiel. "What are you implying?"
"A chance for you to truly gain redemption, to perhaps… one day, return to Heaven, and in the meantime, perhaps a chance for you to find the peace you so desperately crave."
As Lucifer seemed to contemplate Jeremiel's words, Orobas shifted beside Dean, her eyes wandering over him, searching him. Dean felt awkward beneath her gaze, wondering what it was she saw to make her have such a solemn and questioning look on her face.
"Did you?" she asked. "Find peace, that is…"
Dean's gaze fell away for a moment as he considered the question, considered the memories long forgotten and the emotions that had been buried deep with them.
"No," he answered with a light shake of his head, attention moving toward the silhouettes in the window of the house, "I found purpose."
No sooner had the words left his mouth and pain sliced up and through his spine, sending him to his knees. He opened his mouth to question it, but only an anguished cry made its way out as more pain caught him off guard, a sharp stabbing cutting into his abdomen. He tried to breathe through it, doubling over from the intensity.
"What?" Dean tried to question, but again, he was cut short by another attack, and he closed his eyes tight against it, bringing an arm up to cradle his stomach. When that too had eased, though only slightly, he pulled his hand away and looked down to see the sticky red of blood staining his palm. "Orobas… what is this?"
Orobas came to kneel in front of him, placing a hand on his cheek, a sad smile on her face. "You're waking up."
"If I'm waking up," he questioned, jaw tight against the pain, "why does it hurt so much?"
"Because your body is weak, and Azazel is taking full advantage of that." She pushed herself up, standing before him once more. "This is the price of humanity. The price you pay for being… you. Of course, you could always choose to let that go."
"No… I would rather die."
"Then fight, Dean Winchester, and show the world who you really are."
-*-*-666-*-*-
The sound of Latin faded the further Sam moved from the alleyway, his attention on what lay ahead of him. His movements were more cautious now, his steps slowing the closer and closer he got to the front door of the slaughterhouse. Without the guards out front, slipping in was easy, but despite what the demon had said about there being no more inside aside from Yellow Eyes, Sam wasn't going to fall into the trap of going in guns blazing. Demons lied.
He pulled the colt free from his jeans and held it out ready, just in case. The hallways were dark, but enough light spilled in from outside for Sam to make out what lay ahead. Ripper led the way, skulking forward and keeping close to the ground. A low rumble vibrated through the air around the hellhound, his eyes a dangerous scarlet glow in the darkness. He was a predator, stalking his prey, only choosing to pounce when a piercing scream ripped out along the corridor and as the cry chilled Sam to the bone, Ripper shot forward.
"Dean!" Sam called out, racing after the hellhound with fear in his chest, tightening around his heart and gripping it tightly. The need for silence and caution completely forgotten, replaced by the desperation to get to Dean.
Up ahead, he could already see the open doorway and the orange light that danced across the threshold. Ripper stood before it, looming and pacing as he waited for Sam to approach, and it wasn't until Sam was on top of the entrance that he realised why. A salt line sat neatly in front of the door, keeping the hellhound back and stopping him from entering the room. But it wouldn't stop Sam, and when Sam raised his gaze to look into the room, the sight he saw… nothing would have kept him out.
The room was empty, except for his brother. In chains and strung up, Dean hung there, limp, head forward and unresponsive, gashes lining his skin, blood staining it and dripping down and into the reddened pool at his feet.
"No," Sam gasped at the sight, rushing forward and into the room, everything else forgotten. "No. No. No. Dean? Dean, god please…"
He reached his brother, almost afraid to touch him, afraid to hurt him further or worse. He didn't miss the metal hook dug deep into Dean's side, and cringed at the sight, wondering how much Dean had endured whilst Yellow Eyes had had him. Hands moving up to Dean's face, Sam cradled it tenderly, hoping for some response, but it seemed even Lucifer wasn't home. If it wasn't for the shallow movements of his chest, Sam would have feared the worst.
"Dean, please – hey. Wake up. You've got to wake up, man…"
Ripper's growling grew louder from the hallway, until it was no longer growling but a loud and vicious bark, and it was only then that Sam realised his mistake. He didn't have time to react. He couldn't even raise the colt let alone get a shot off. The metal hinges of the door creaked loudly behind him, and as it slammed shut, Sam was thrown backwards and slammed in the wall.
"Should have checked behind the door, Sammy," the demon chided, making a light tsk-tsk sound with his tongue as he shook his head. He took his time making his way toward a paralysed Sam, but once there, he pried the colt from Sam's hands and tossed it toward the table on the other side of the room. "But since you're here, why don't we have a nice little chat?"
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Authors Notes: Thank you so much for reading!
