Bouncing Around
A Supernatural/Psych Crossover Crack-Fic
Dark Archer- Nope, well, kinda. The Knights of Malta as they are portrayed in the fic are fictitious but I based them on an actual Holy Order. Originally they were a branch of Hospitallers, monks that ran monasteries to care for the sick, but during the Crusades they took up the sword and went all medieval on the Saracens. Eventually they were restricted to an island, Malta, until they were forced out... I think due to Napoleon. I'd have to check my notes. Anyway, they are still in existence today and are one of those 'nations without a land'. They have chapters worldwide, and officially don't do the military thing in favor of caring for the sick and poor, but I have my suspicions.
Lassiter and Jules are not married. He just gave her the ring from his last wedding to keep her from getting body-jacked.
Part Thirty Five- Rise Up, All Ye Faithful
Dean didn't care that she was wearing all black and a nun's habit. He didn't care that she was old enough to be his not-so-aged-well mother. The second she put the grenade launcher in his hands he wanted to sweep her off her feet and kiss her just like the sailor did to the nurse in the old war poster. Smother her in love and affection until her toes curled and she was shouting for her God.
"Eat it, Hellspawn!" Dean shouted as he squeezed the trigger and ducked down. The blast wasn't as loud as he might have expected, but silver laced shrapnel went flying along with bodies. Demons could survive a lot, they ran around in corpses often enough, but blast off and arm or leg and even they had to stop for a breather.
Sister Prudence had taken cover with him. She was armed with a machete and a revolver. The heavier artillery was too heavy for her to lift but she was still a menace on the battlefield. Her Rosary was clutched in one hand while she recited prayers, eyes burning with passion, and Dean felt that surge of attraction.
He slung the launcher onto his back and peeked over the rust-bucket of a car they had hidden behind. Chaos ruled the field.
Overhead the sky was a mess, nature itself protesting the presence of so many demons, and the ground was strewn with debris and blood. Bodies. Good guys and bad.
"Come child," The nun whispered as she finished her litany. "Cover me."
The nearly sixty year old leapt over the hood of the car and charged, weaving as she slashed out with the freshly blessed blade, and Dean fired shot after shot. Possessed bodies jerked as bullets sought fleshy new homes. Dean ejected the clip when it was spent and slammed a new one home just has his ears picked up the fwoosh of a flamethrower.
He felt like a solider of old charging onto a battlefield. He couldn't stop the mad grin forcing it's way to his lips as he screamed: "Zepplin Rules!"
Bobby had been fighting a war against the Supernatural for years, ever since his wife was possessed, but never before had it been so literal. Small, quiet skirmishes were the norm in the Hunting business. House-to-house all out battlefield was not. Usually the simply human hunters had time to set up their traps and plan.
Against the sheer numbers against them the usual methods were not possible and Bobby Singer had a sudden deep and heartfelt appreciation for all those that died in the World Wars and all others. Trench warfare was fucking tiring.
But damn if it didn't feel good to be moving, really moving, with the blood pounding in his ears after months of being bound to a chair. Bobby blocked a strike with his arm and knew if the bone hadn't cracked the bruise was going to be a bitch should they survive the night. His opponent snarled, fangs descending and eyes going black with old blood. "Tell me some'thun." He bit out as he fell backward and kicked the vampire off and away while going for the hunting knife hanging from his belt. "Why you bloodsuckers siding with the Devil?"
She clutched at her middle while she straightened, and it was like everything around them had ceased to exist. The explosions were distant, the screams toned down, and the wind stilled. "He promised us." Her red hair danced in the wind like a bloody halo. "He promised we wouldn't have to hide anymore. That we would be his children... and you would be our cattle!" She crouched low as she came at him and Bobby swung out.
Nails gouged painfully into his side even as her head flew from her body.
Ellen had a small contingent of hunters around her as they pressed forward, or tried to at any rate. The enemy was just too strong in number. And they kept growing. Demons could pop out of one body and find another. It may take them some time to do so, but Ellen feared no matter how impressive their own numbers were they wouldn't make it.
They had to take the chapel, all the omens pointed to the broken down church as the center of Lucifer's power-play, but there were just too damn many fuglies in the way.
Ellen shoot a foot-high Goblin off her boot and turned her flamethrower on it. The creature let out a painful hiss before its body exploded like a piece of meet left in the microwave too long. The woman didn't even have time to wipe the gore from her face as yet another beastie broke through their ranks and came at her, claws reaching for her fuel line.
Castiel appeared with a pop of displaced air, feathers scattering on the smoke-filled wind, and drove a juice coated blade into the creatures head. The wound sizzled like acid and it's four arms flailed before falling limp. "Thanks." She bit out while turning her attention back to the enemy.
Sam thought he was dead. He had, stupidly, left the group when heard Meg laughing. Taunting him. Now he was armed with a single demon-killing blade and surrounded by way too many black eyed demons being led by one with white eyes. There was no way his group could reach him in time.
"Well if it isn't the Boy Wonder." Unknown White-Eyed Demon hissed. "Boss wants you bad. Orders to keep you safe and sound while we exterminate the pitiful rabble."
It was incredibly disturbing to see a man dressed in a suit shake his hips and walk up as if flirting. Like a woman. He pursed his lips and stroked his chin while giving Sam the once-over. "Gotta say, pops has good taste. Nothing too special in the looks department, but that body... yummy."
A peal of laughter came from the dark eyed peanut gallery and as one they rushed him. Sam struck out, caught a demon in the throat, but went down into what was once a vegetable garden. His face pressed into the dirt as the demon panted in his ear.
Oh. God.
Hands wandered down ward, and Sam wished they would just kill him. Heaven wasn't that bad. A little dull, but not this... the hands left and he could hear what sounded like a siren. "Mitch!" The white eyed demon yelled as the siren grew louder, fast.
Sam struggled where he was pinned. Suddenly, the weight of the demons lifted and was replaced by cold wetness. The demons were screaming in pain as gallons of water under heavy pressure splashed into them.
"Hey! You okay? You ain't screaming like the rest of them!" A man in a yellow fireman's uniform asked from where he was perched atop a water cannon. Sam just nodded mutely and recovered his knife. There was a war on.
Three Hummers barreled down the road, the contents jingling and bouncing with every bump in the road. They sped into a ghost town with all the urgency those who have no knowledge of speed limits possessed and one plowed into a woman who hadn't seemed to notice the knife sticking out of her back.
Heading for the thick of the fighting, the Hummers decided to go off-roading and thus paved over several ricky fences, a swing set, and a wall of dying bushes. They swerved to a stop at a scene that wouldn't have been out of place of a Dungeons and Dragons movie. "Holy shit!" A passenger squeaked only to receive a rebuke from his superior. "Sorry."
The doors opened and the modern-day crusaders charged onto the field to relieve the Hunters. Dying grass crunched beneath booted feet as they roared challenge, armor all but glowing with faith as they screamed their battle-cry. "GOD WILLS IT!"
A smaller number of them paused to find shelter, sniper-rifles slung over their shoulders.
Dean growled as he watched a young hunter go down, neck snapped. He ignored the blood pouring from his leg own as he rushed to the boys side to drag him to a somewhat safer area. Demons to the left, Goblins to the right, Harpies above... and wasn't it a shame that the face couldn't match the body on those creatures?
Dean launched a grenade at the troop of streak-knife wielding goblins and listened in sick satisfaction as they squealed and died, clearing a path to an old shed where he could drop the kid. He was so young... he didn't deserve to be devoured like carrion. Later, he would have a real Hunters funeral. Beers and a burning. The right way.
Dean didn't even know his name. His parents were probably out fighting, might be already dead.
"Dean!" A female voice shouted. "Dean!"
Hazel eyes snapped up and widened at the appearance of a woman he could have sworn was dead. Burned to cinders by an Archangel.
She looked amazing in that Xena-esque outfit. The question remained, where did she come from and was she still trying to kill his brother? "Anna."
Her eyes sparkled. Dean looked, but he couldn't see any of the despair that haunted them the last time they met. That had always haunted them. She smiled and the blood flecking her cheek only made her more gorgeous. "Come on, we need to help hold them off. And YOU need to stop Sam!"
"Sam, what is he... he's not going to say yes is he?" Dean yelled, breath coming in ragged breaths as blood loss began to get to him.
"I don't know." Anna said with a shake of her head. "But we need to keep him away from Lucifer, at least until..."
"Until what?" The Eldest Winchester was already firmly in big brother mode as he reloaded his shotgun, pistol, and the Colt. He wished he still had more grenades.
As he ran shouting for Sam, pulling aside those still fighting, he got only confused shakes of the head.
Clara blinked in confusion as she dueled a pair of... things. They had horns. That was just about as far as she was willing to go in describing them without her brain melting. Her short sword cleaved into the arm of one as the other tried to ham string her. Tried being the operative word. It wasn't expecting the chain-mail resistance.
One would think that the demons and other assorted beasties would move on with the times, but luckily for them, that is the humans, monsters were so busy reveling in their magic powers and raw strength they rarely thought about picking up a gun. Blades, however, had been around far longer than ammunitions.
Blessed blade met cursed in a shower of sparks and Clara grunted with the effort to push back the creature. It screeched at her, acid like spittle stinging her cheeks, and she backpedaled with eyes wide in shock as a man in a fedora materialized behind the monster with whom she'd locked blades. Indiana Jones wrapped his bullwhip around what passed for the creatures wrist, jerked it around, and promptly shot it in the head causing sparks to fly from the eyes.
The scent of cotton-candy filled her nose as she whirled to face the now dead creatures partner. It was already dying what with it's stomach plug laying on the ground two feet away from the rest of the body, and a white guy was doing a Bruce Lee impression as he faced a herd of Kelpies.
It was official. Best. Apocalypse. Ever.
Shawn was panting as he ran, jumping over pools of blood, gore, and the occasional bit of wreckage. He mentally scoffed at his out-of-shapeness. Sure he could wish the fatigue away but then what would be the point? What would be the point of any of it?
He almost stumbled over his own feet as what had to be a thousand feather-light touches brushed against his mind. Lost children. That's all they were, really, kids trying to make sense of crazy world. But the world didn't make sense, it wasn't supposed to, because if it did where would the fun be? The challenge?
Shawn looked back at his best friend. Gus was right there with him, actually breathing easier as he went to the gym three times a week, freaked out but still there. "Okay, Buddy, here's the plan." They stopped for a break at the house across from the church. Walls were crumbling around them, realities were blending from the concentrated forces, but now was not the time to worry about such things. He could fix it. He would fix it.
No one played in his sandbox but HIM.
"This isn't one those plans where you go in and talk the bad-guy into surrender, is it? I hate those!" Gus hissed with the back of his head pressed against the wall. "Oh, it is! Isn't it!"
Shawn smiled. "Don't worry. It'll work. But I need you to buy me time. You have to keep the demons and other bad guys from coming to help Lucius out while I'm facing him. He's invested so much in them, turned them into rechargeable batteries." The sound of a helicopters blades became audible over the din of battle. "Make sure Lassie knows. I'm counting on you."
Shawn slapped Gus on the back and sprinted across the street while giving one last mental order: Hold the Line.
He knew, but didn't see, Buzz McNab salute after ripping the arms off a low-level demon.
Gus ran around, blood pumping, adrenaline flowing, and tried to think of something to do. The human fighters were being pushed back. The demons were making a circle, a circle of sacrifice his pessimistic side sneered, and he could not allow that. The Devil did not need the extra help. He had to find a way to distract them...
A strangled scream escaped his throat as Mrs. Pickles started twining about his ankles. The calico wasn't alone. Little Boy Cat and another were with her. Gus felt his heart skip a beat and forced himself to breath while dodging a stray bullet. He had gotten surprisingly good at avoiding projectiles ever since joining with Shawn in Psych.
It didn't matter that Chairman Meow had evidently come back from the dead. Wasn't that one of the signs of revelation? The dead would walk? Somehow, Gus did think Father Anderson ever meant cats... but he had an idea. It was so ridiculous, Shawn might have approved. Well, his best friend was busy getting himself killed, Burton Guster might as well do the same.
Through some miracle of happenstance they had taken the street with the church, but now they had to deal with the seemingly impossible task of holding it. Magic was so thick in the air it was like invisible pea soup and Ellen had no clue how they were going to survive the night. She'd run out of ammo minutes ago and had barely a forth a tank left in her flamethrower. She hadn't seen Castiel since he exploded in a shower of light taking several monsters with him.
All that had been left were crispy corpses standing in shock.
A bullet whizzed past her ear, but she'd grown used to the chaos of the melee. There was a former bit of shirt turned impromptu bandage on her upper arm standing testament to a bad run in with friendly fire. For a few minutes it had felt like War was running around again, but he couldn't be... Dean had the Ring.
And Dean had the Colt. Close saves were evidently the rule of the day. "Ellen, have you seen Sammy?" The boy looked like he had been run ragged, but then again they all did.
"I think so. Broke cover and ran down the street. Thought he was going after you."
"Me?" Dean's eyes were filled with fear. "Fuck. Don't tell me they got shapeshifters too..."
Ellen didn't have time to reply. She was busy turning her fire on the swarm of blood pixies that had just burst from a bush. Their tiny bodies fell flaming even as they reached out with poisoned claws and mesmerizing voices.
Anything that came close to the fire-hydrant received an axe to the face. Or neck. Or whatever was handy, really. Frank wasn't picky but when the man with the sharp pointy fangs shrugged off the gaping wound in his chest the fire chief grew worried. The thing was fast and though Frank had long since shrugged off his heavy protective coat he couldn't quite match the speed.
They were being mobbed, and the holy water that Keith was constantly making had no effect. Not demons, then.
Someone popped one of the cans of fruit and hurled it. Sticky liquid and pineapple bits went everywhere and when it landed on one of the monsters it glowed white-hot causing them to scream and try to brush it off. The screams were silenced as swords and machetes cut through undead necks.
"Dammit Carl!" Frank shouted as he realized just what those monsters had been. Their cavalry was a mixture of Hunter and Knight. He could see metal glinting from beneath cut up loose shirts. "I told you not to jinx us!"
Lassiter laid down covering fire as the helicopter came in low. Head shots were preferable, and luckily the few monsters capable of flight couldn't stand the wind generated by the propellers, but it would still be touch and go. He and O'Hara would have to jump.
They did. Juliet rolled along the battlefield like a professional, as if she'd been jumping out of moving vehicles all her life, and came up gun in hand and ready to fire. She didn't risk shooting any human-looking opponents for fear of taking out a 'good-guy' but the monsters were hammered back by her barrage.
"Carlton!" She yelled over the sounds of fighting, nearly tripping over a still twitching grey-tinged arm. "To your right!"
Lassiter turned, throwing knife leaving his hand to dig into the chest of deformed woman, and his mind boggled. Burton Guster, sidekick of the most annoying person he knew, was standing climbing atop a car. The idiot was going to get himself killed.
"THUNDERCATS!" The black man yelled, his voice echoing impossibly across the neighborhood turned war zone, "HOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Behind him, the sky opened up, and Lassiter resisted the urge to face palm as the cries of what could have been a hundred felines rallied.
Sam was frozen. Lucifer's power was more than an ocean, it was an entire universe, and beside him Sam was like a single celled ameba. What had ever made him think that even with a boost of demon blood he could match the Lightbringer himself? "Won't be long now, Sammy." Satan's vessel looked a bit like it had contracted leprosy. It was burning from the inside out unable to properly channel the power and bits of skin had decayed and fallen off. When he spoke it only emphasized chapped, dry lips. "Can you hear it? All your friends, all my children, fighting and dying... for me. All that power, all those sacrifices... going straight to me."
He smiled, lips cracking, eyes burning, and Sam's heart skipped a beat. "You planned this."
"Told ya it would all go down in Detroit." Lucifer rolled his shoulder. "Well, we aren't exactly in Detroit, Detroit, but why quibble over county lines and ever shifting borders? I'm going to Ascend! And you'll be my vessel, and we will remake the world into a brighter, better place. It's all so magical."
"Sorry, Jasmine. Can't let you do that. I called dibs ages ago." Sam recognized the voice that spoke and would have jumped in surprise if he wasn't bound by Lucifers power. Shawn Spencer, the guy Cas had insisted was God, dropped down from a broken window and dusted himself off. He walked over with his hands in his pockets and a curious expression on his face. "But if you like, you can fix up the down under and turn it into a new Disney Land. Hell Edition."
Lucifer looked shocked, and if Sam wasn't mistaken there was longing in those cold eyes. They softened as they focused on the younger man. "Father."
"Lucy... Sammael." Shawn's voice had lowered into a whisper. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making things better." Lucifer stepped closer to God, and Sam inwardly screamed as he continued to be an unwilling observer. "These humans, they don't deserve you. They don't."
Shawn didn't reply. He didn't move as a hand came up to trace his face, thumb rubbing against a cheek bone. "I remember how it was." The Devil continued, his voice smooth and musical like some kind of otherworldly salesman. "You always loved making things, Father. You're so good at it."
"You liked breaking things. Nemesis was never the same after you turned it into an asteroid belt." Shawn quipped with half-smile. Lucifer stepped back, eyes flashing, before his calmed himself and shook his head.
"I was young. I... I didn't understand. But now I do. I understand this, and I understand you." Lucifer turned to Sam then and gestured. Against his will the youngest Winchester was brought forward. "He'll say yes, you know, eventually he will say yes just to end the pain. To be swept away in my power. Let's not fight, Father. I'll take care of Earth. Once I have brought humanity to heel they will worship and adore you as they should. I will see to it that the suffering stops, and you... you can Create to your heart's content."
It was like a warm wind had blown through the chapel. Lucifer was standing right beside Shawn, who's eyes had gone a little glassy during the speech, and his arm was wrapped around the shorter man's shoulders. "Please, Father. I'll take care of everything. You need not worry. Need not concern yourself with such mundane things... go. I'm strong, I've been growing stronger. No one will bother you, no one will hurt, everything shall be... perfect."
Shawn shook himself, head tilted, and smiled wistfully. "And therein lies the rug."
"Excuse me?"
"Nothing is perfect, Sammy." Neither Sam or Lucifer were sure just who God was addressing. "Nothing. Not even me. But you know what?" Lucifer's warm wind died as pure heat filled the room. The air turned hazy from it like a black-top in the desert. "Perfection is over-rated. It's boring. Dull. Not the least bit interesting and," Sam was struck by the sudden thought. If Lucifer was a universe of power, Shawn was the source. He was the one who made it and, consequently, he was so much bigger.
Shawn smiled as he took his hands from his pockets. Blood dripped from them and he held Ruby's knife delicately. He had stabbed himself straight through the palms. "I think someone needs a timeout."
The symbols of Ruby's knife lit up like a thousand watt Christmas Tree.
They were running out of time. Mary Winchester nee Campbell had finally become accustomed to navigating the Heavens, but they were running out of time. She zipped herself forward and back, breathing the walls, and laid hands on the fifth seal. John was arriving in a sparkle of light and together they pulled at the statue.
It stretched, impossibly supple for marble, but finally came apart in their hands. All around them the Heavens flashed into turmoil. Power flowed out from the broken seal unhindered, searching for the one it belonged to, and together they grabbed at that river of energy and held on.
Other souls did the same, and they fought their way back into the World.
They were winning. Impossibly, they were winning. The Angels got their act together and came down blades flashing. Nothing survived an Angel blade.
The dead walked. Ghosts from all eras had shown up on the battlefield and protected those that needed it. They were dead, they did not tire, and they were insubstantial to nearly all beasts.
Dean hadn't been able to get in the chapel, he saw his mother in a white dress rake her nails across some hell-beasts face. He thought he was losing it. The hairs on his arms stood up in waring at the build up of power behind wooden doors. This was it. The calvary had come, but it was too late.
They were all going to die.
Huh.
Dean kicked an enraged maybe-woman in the stomach. The demons turned as one to the church and scrabbled toward it with what looked like panic, not even attempting to defend themselves. But that didn't need to with the angels pausing in their attack to also look at the church. They did not move toward the building but instead shuddered, wings becoming true physical presences for the first time.
They were huge, massive, all colors of the rainbow and glowing with inner holy light. Dean was so entranced by the beauty of them he didn't notice the cop tackle him from the side, angel wings spread as if to shield him, but he did notice the earthquake.
It was like Lucifer's rise all over again, but as the light broke through the roof of the old church it turned back around and flowed out. Power swept along, ripping everything in its path, as demons were forced from the bodies they animated and shredding anything not protected by celestial energy.
Dean swallowed, mouth dry as he pushed the angel away from him, staring at the now collapsed building that had housed his brother.
"SAMMY!"
End.
A/N- One chapter to go, plus deleted scenes.
Oh, and that was Gabriel making movie based constructs to help fight.