Sophia's Chronicles
Chapter 88: Fog Weaver
Brimstone, Washington – 10 December 2012, 10.55pm
A single hole in the thunderous sky revealed the round blood jewel in its apex. Its red shine cast a scarlet touch on the deathly clouds that framed its picture in the sky. Flashes of light illuminated the sky in patches. Whether it was an archangel's lightning assault or the clashing of swords between gods, one would be unable to tell. With all this atmospheric hype, rain was expected but not quite like this – it had been raining soldiers. The battle in the sky was furious and so left some injured immortals to fall to an honourable death. Still, some clung on to life.
Some Armenian fighter torpedoed down from the sky, landing in a bed of rubble. He winced in an attempt to lift his torso. It was clear, however, that the open gash on his flank would make that difficult. Taking several deep breaths, he decided it was time for the last resort. Remembering what he'd been taught, he whistled in a distinct song. With all the pain he pushed through, the song came more as a withering breath. Out from the shadows, a low growling sounded. The wolf faded into existence, nearing him cautiously. He reached out a hand to signal his friendliness. It nudged him, sniffing to investigate. When the gash caught its eye, it licked the wound.
The bloody gash glowed incandescently as it sealed itself. The fighter sighed in relief. With as much determination as he began, he shot back into the sky. The lonely wolf whimpered, watching the winged fighter soar back into battle for the sake of the archangel King's victory.
Just a few blocks away, the stink of blood and fear squirmed on every surface inside a dilapidated store. A woman's silvery cries rang through the walls like a bell. It wasn't panic anymore – it had morphed into hopelessness and self-hatred. She knew there was no point in resisting. The deep grunting of the monster on top of her seemed to intensify with every shudder of her body. "Persephone… Persephone…" he repeated, despite the blood leaking out of her. Now his hands gripped her throat. Her innocent blue irises quivered for just a second. And then, she was gone. Hades let out a belated sigh.
Outside, Abaddon had some twisted imaginations of her own. "You know what this place needs?" she exhaled like it was the first breeze of spring.
"A lady's touch?" the demon next to her wondered.
"No, Dan. Fire," she rolled her eyes. "There's not enough Hell in this place. We need to turn up the heat."
The cement was no match for the inferno. Civilians were forced out into the open and those who were not, became pillars of ash. Demons cackled and hissed as they chased innocents, running after them slowly just so they could savour the screams of terror and futile attempts at escape. Hades' wand found more unwilling targets. Abaddon got the bloodbath she'd always wanted. Her tongue sliced skin as she licked the blood out of her victims. The whole scene was a melting pot of perversions and tortured cravings for salvation.
It was to this sight Jack had arrived. He took one step forward in the dark rundown store. A distinct splash drew his attention to his feet. The puddles were all blood. Not far from the splash zone was the still, lifeless corpse. He saw bruises around her neck and elsewhere in her body from a rough handling. Even in death, her light blue eyes begged for mercy. He closed her eyelids. It was clear from the state of her clothes – torn, like someone had been impatient with them – and her undignified exposure what had happened here. It drove fury through the archangel's veins with the speed of lightning. Jack saw red.
He stepped out into the open. The demons' clamour rang all around. Madness was the rule and any action lacking that gut-wrenching flavour was against the law. Jack's fists hardened to see such subversion, especially when he spotted Hades dragging a woman by her hair into a dark alley. He was set to race forward and lay down his strong feelings about what he thought of this.
"Assume positions!" Abaddon yelled, eyeing something in the distance. Even these agents of disorder could arrange themselves in a neat file when they wanted to, which begged the question of what they wanted. When realisation hit Jack, he dashed to the nearest rooftop in a split second. Not long after, Satan's cavalry arrived.
Jack took cover behind the ledge as he watched the road below. Several SUVs cruised down the road. The demons who were on the scene raised a hand in salute. After the vehicles made it past the street, the demons followed in a slow-paced trance. They brought with them any civilians they'd found, captured in chains and ropes, to wherever it was the King of Hell was going. Hades brought his bounty too, dragging her coarsely.
"Is this what you really are?" Jack mumbled at the fading entourage. There was little he could do at this point without drawing too much attention to himself. A little monkey scurried up to the ledge to get a view of the parade as well. "Nothing you see here's gonna help, you know?" he told the little creature.
The little primate turned its babyish head to him. The very sight of its glowing tangerine eyes made his heart melt. Jack let the monkey crawl onto the back of his hand and then brought it closer to himself to pet it.
"Let's face it, little guy – your creator doesn't care about you. Why would he send you out here if he did?" he hugged the monkey to his chest. The docile creature passively put its arms around his neck. Jack's eyes zoned in on some arbitrary spot as he talked to himself, back against the ledge. "If he cared about you, he'd make the world a place you'd want to be in. Like, with a lot of bananas." He pulled a banana out of thin air and handed it to the monkey. "If he cared about you…" Jack sighed as he watched the little one eagerly feast on the fruit. "He wouldn't poison himself like this."
Somewhere not too far away,
"Can't you tell by the Bat Signal?" Dean remarked. The trio were still in that destroyed control room in the stadium. This time, Raziel and Castiel had joined them. "There's no need for some fancy twelve-step plan. Lucifer's right there. I'll bet Baby on it."
"You really up for that?" Sam challenged him.
"Don't jinx it now, Sammy," Dean dismissed.
"That's such an obvious target, isn't it?" Raziel wondered, brows furrowed as he stared at the only tall building left in the whole city. Clouds circled over it ominously and lightning caressed its radius, but he wasn't sure that was a distinct sign by itself. A chunk of its side – spanning a mere five floors – had been torn away in the battle. Still, that wasn't enough to compromise the building's integrity. "Every other god who has it in for him will be looking for him in there."
"Maybe that's what he wants," Castiel guessed sombrely. "It would save him the trouble of having to find them."
As they watched, a dense fog materialised at the distant building's topmost floors. Within moments of its formation, it grew thicker and thicker, almost like a cloud of its own, until it began to spread around. It only took seconds for the temperature to drop considerably. Zara exhaled a cloudy mist.
"That enough of a sign for you?" she asked Raziel. The angel eyed her cautiously but said nothing in return. "Looks like Dean gets to keep the Impala."
Raziel's silence drew their attention. "A part of me knows this is a terrible idea," he began. "Lucifer will, no doubt, be surrounded his goons. The closer we get, the more diseased the streets will look. Yet, going straight to him seems like the only option left. Maybe I should go alone."
"We already discussed this," Dean pointed out. "This is our only chance at sticking the archangel blade in him."
"My objective isn't to kill him," Raziel laid out clearly. "Because you and I can't beat him, Dean. Archangel blade or not. I just need a chance to talk to him. Come to some kind of compromise."
"This is Lucifer we're talking about," Sam argued. "He isn't known for his patience. If you go alone…" he shook his head solemnly. "It's suicide."
Raziel's weary eyes met Castiel's. "At least one of us has to live, Castiel," he said. "If I don't come back, you have to go back to Heaven and speak to the council again. Make them see how dire this is."
Castiel was unconvinced. "If we go, we go together," he firmly stated. "Splitting us up like this is exactly what Lucifer would want."
"He's right," Zara agreed, tight-lipped. "If we face him together, we have more of a chance of hitting his blind spot. Also, strength in numbers is a thing."
The fact that she'd agree to this suicidal plan told Raziel all he needed to know. There was more he wanted to say and argue, but it seemed their minds were already made up. "Fine," he relented. "But the first sign of trouble, and Castiel gets you as far away as possible. You have enough of a bounty on your head."
While the hunters and the angels snaked through the city towards the tower, a completely different air permeated the skyscraper. On one of the floors with the destroyed edge, Lucifer admired the debris below through the gaping hole in the side of the building. He stood precariously close to the edge – the very precipice of the great expanse below. Wires and steel reinforcements stuck out at odd angles, ready to kill at any time. His pristine white button-up shirt, sleeves rolled up, and dark formal pants stood out in the whole scene. He had a calm glow about him. An icy glee bloomed within his chest to see the natural outcome of his plan. In the sky, valiant soldiers rushed headfirst towards the opposition to fight for him.
"When this all began over a million years ago, the whole world was against me. All anyone gave me was condescension, hatred, ire…" Lucifer reflected. His breath formed a cloudy mist in the freezing temperature he'd let loose around him. "No one wanted to come near me. Now look at them. Millions fight for me, now."
"And millions more will join them," Abaddon said, coming up to his side. A wide cherry smile stretched across her face. "I just wish our enemies would see that there's no getting past you sooner. It's time for them to bend the knee."
"Surrender? Not so soon, I hope. Where's the fun in that?" Lucifer smirked. "They'll not surrender here. We won't see that until Phase Two."
As soon as Lucifer's grin had begun, it faded at the end of his sentence. Though he looked outwards, his gaze seemed to retreat inward. He was stiff-backed, hands clasped behind him, and in full appreciation of how wonderfully things were working out. For some reason, he felt more free than he'd ever been. Yet, something in his chest wanted to keep his happiness in its cage. As much as he tried, invisible shackles tried to hold him back. A tightness reached up into his jaws. He thought of this disturbance as a dissenter and chose to crush it into a ball to stow it away for good.
The Knight straightened up her posture. That lost smile of his was a treasure erased from the world. "Our army grows stronger," she reported. "With every human killed, more of ours rise into power. We've almost wiped out everyone in this city."
"Almost?" Lucifer cast a questioning side-eye at her.
"There is a- a refugee camp set up somewhere outside the city," Abaddon hesitated. "A few thousand people managed to get there. It's probably those hunters. We can take care of it."
"No," Lucifer ordered, digging his hands in his pockets.
Abaddon's erupting excitement paused abruptly in its tracks. Some reservation delayed her clarifying question longer than it needed. "No?"
"Laying waste to a refugee camp does nothing for us," he stated, unmoving. "It's a waste of resources. Besides, those people now live to tell the tale," he said with a sincere nonchalance. "Think of how much free publicity that is."
The Knight's heart sunk a little bit at that. She had so looked forward to wreaking more havoc. Instead of keeping with that tangent, she stiffly nodded her head in acceptance. "We've instilled enough fear in them to bring generations into submission," she agreed. "Though I must realise, if this emergency evacuation is all hunters, dear Zara must be helping them too." Lucifer's lips formed a tight line, which Abaddon took as a cue to continue. "How did they manage to pull all of it off in the span of just two days? For a bunch of renegades to gather the materials for safe shelter, transportation, medicine, people who know a thing or two about medicine…"
"She's blending in with them, as she should," Lucifer cut her off. There was a sharpness to his tone, though not entirely obvious, that meant no further questions would be entertained.
Abaddon shrugged, as if letting the point go. "Okay," she conceded. "Maybe she marked the wrong date on her calendar. It's just weird that they even had time to prepare, let alone this vast set-up."
"Abaddon," Lucifer uttered, turning to her. With his casual speed, it was easy to mistake his composure for calmness. That certainly wasn't the case. "You question her role in my plan?"
She'd always yearned for him to say her name, but perhaps not like that. Still, she held her chin up high. "I just think that her actions don't seem to take you seriously," she accused. "Perhaps her initial mistakes could be forgiven, but it's clear now that there's a pattern. We tell her one thing, then she takes 'liberties'. I warned her not to investigate the Dullahan case further and what did she do next? She killed the damn lackey and the husband. As if we didn't already have a plan! It wasn't her place."
The deafening silence following her sentence was unnerving. With every moment Lucifer stared her down, she felt herself crumbling on the inside. And then he took a step forward. And then another one. And yet another. The tap of his every step reverberated in her chest. When he finally neared her, she was just about ready to collapse. He towered over her as he stood behind her shoulder. "It may not have been her place to kill Morrigan's subordinate, but it certainly isn't yours to doubt my trust in her," he warned. "Her job requires a very special set of capabilities. So-"
"Like what?" she cut him off, which immediately brought a deep scowl to his face. "Infiltrating and bringing down Javelin – any of our best guys could've done that. Kidnapping the world's most pacifistic goddess? Spreading her legs for a Winchester? I could've done that. In half the time, too. What can she do that I can't?"
"She's human," he said with a cold precision, knowing full well the uncomfortable itch it'd create in her head. "Your very being was corrupted and twisted into absolute ugliness when you came to Hell. Your very nature could never allow you to achieve the same delicateness she's capable of. It's her humanity that'll win us this war."
Abaddon huffed defiantly, still facing the city while Lucifer looked over her shoulder. "Do you forget, Father, that I once fooled an entire society of men just to carry out your mission? Deception is the lance you gave me and I have wielded it for centuries for your sake," she argued. A contrarian softness contorted her eyes. "My King, it may be out of line for me to ask, but is it fair that she be placed on equal standing to me, when I far outrank her in every way?"
"Yes, you do outrank her – in pettiness," Lucifer crudely said. It was when he slowed down his words like this, forcing her to pay close attention, that his real rage came to light. "Your gripe is based on nothing but your own vanity. It's pathetic." It certainly stung for the demon to hear that. "Yes, you are a Knight of Hell, and you are one of the strongest of my creations, but you, just like everyone else and Zara, have a place in this world. If you lack faith in my ability to keep my subordinates in line, I do invite you to keep pushing your luck." Abaddon remained reluctantly silent. "And if you speak that way to me again, remember that those Shedim we've starved for a million years are in desperate need of company."
That was a word Abaddon hadn't heard in a long time – not since that incident with Asmodeus. The very thought of the ghastly scars on the Prince's face shot a tremble through her. She gulped.
"Have I made myself clear?"
Her head nodded in a jerky motion. "Yes, my Lord," she said.
"Good. Now go," he ordered. "Check on Horus. I need to know what his status is."
The Knight exited to oblige. Whatever grim look she had on her face made Hades stare at her leaving figure as he entered the room. He saw Lucifer's commanding posture which overlooked the city and decided to ask no questions. However, he did have something to show his King.
"Sir, we have intruders," he croaked in his rumbling abyss of a voice. Lucifer, intrigued, turned to find the god accompanied by some of the help just to bring in this strange cargo. They had with them something of a cage – it was more of a metal box, really. Just as the boys set it down, Lucifer could hear the soft scratching noises from inside the box. There were many of them, for sure, whatever those tiny things were. Then Hades pulled one out by the scruff of its neck. "Little spies."
"Huh." Lucifer took the tiny monkey with the same delicateness (or lack thereof) with which Hades had presented it to him. Its orange eyes simply blinked at the archangel, but it barely put up any protest. Besides the wiggle of its feet from the sudden suspension in the air, the monkey stayed quiet. Lucifer held it up to eye level. "So this is how they've been watching us."
A little peek into the box revealed at least a dozen other little creatures, all staring wide-eyed at him. When they blinked, it was in unison.
Jack had remained at the same rooftop. This time, he brought some company for the monkey he'd just met. "Another one to keep you company, Paws," Jack let his friend of a few months join its brother. The two monkeys seemed to exercise caution in approaching each other, as if testing the waters, before deciding it was safe to communicate. Paws scratched his brother's back as a sign of friendship. In this desolate wasteland, the small gesture was all Jack had to push himself on. He took them both in his arms, hugging them to him as a mother would her children. "All of you deserve to be free."
"Such nifty little things, aren't they?" Lucifer admired, rotating his wrist to observe the monkey from all its angles. "The lights are barely on in that little skull. Just enough so that someone could break in and use its eyes as their own. These creatures don't even know what's going on."
"So tiny, I almost stepped over them," Hades grumbled in response. "They're watching our every move, boss. What do we do?"
The archangel's icy gaze stared deep into the bulbous orange eyes. The little one shrunk at his intense gaze penetrating its very being, but did nothing. "They do make great decoration. Look at the eyes of this thing – almost like it's actual amber," he remarked with wonder. "Tell me, creature, who is your master?"
The monkey let out the softest monosyllabic chirp.
"Ah," Lucifer recognised. "You watching this, Kumbha?" He spoke straight through the monkey this time. "Neat little contraption you got here. I'll give you props for that. But you see, no one likes having paparazzi around. You understand? And hey, if you don't have anything to show your brother and the rest of 'em, you're legally allowed go back to sleep for another several thousand years. Win-win situation, am I right?"
A throaty chuckle erupted from his throat.
"Get rid of 'em," Lucifer ordered. The demons took that as a cue. While Hades took as many as he could hold in his arms – and that was a lot – and crushed their skulls in his bear embrace, the demons hurled the others out of the gaping hole in the side of the building. Soft, high-pitched shrieks arose and faded away just as quickly.
"There's probably more," Hades guessed. "These were all we could fit in one box."
"Right," Lucifer held up the one in his hand once more. "Something more drastic needs to be done."
By now, the monkey was a bundle of nerves, quaking at the sight of all its dead brothers and sisters. Lucifer blinked, baring his scarlet eyes. He focused his attention on the amber irises of the monkey. Using his other hand, all that was needed was a single snap. Thick, red blood splashed everywhere. The popping noises came from inside the box too. His crisp white shirt was a soiled canvas of the monkey's remains. He looked about himself to see the mess he'd created. Appropriately, a demon stepped forward with a hand towel which Lucifer used to wipe the blood off his hands.
Jack sank to his knees. Mouth agape, his breaths were shallow. His hazel eyes were wide in terror, fearing to look down. All he felt was emptiness in his hands. The sticky fluid coated his bare fingers and his leather jacket. Despite himself, his eyes strayed to confirm the wicked truth. Blood dripped down his hands in a steady flow onto the ground. Slowly at first, the shout built up in momentum and volume as it pushed itself out of his ribcage. His fists were clenched, jaw stiff and shoulders weak. "No…" he sobbed, face absolutely soaked with tears.
If it was thunderous before, it was downright stormy now. The dense clouds had just been teasing these past several hours. Now they shed their weight with Jack's tears. The drizzle slowly grew heavier and heavier, drenching the archangel. The blood washed away but he was still sat there, paralysed by the overwhelming feeling of loss.
The hunters ran into the nearest building, which happened to be a mall, just as the heavy downpour began. "At least we won't catch pneumonia," Sam said as they took a breather.
"Man, it's raining angels and demons out there," Zara watched the violent splashing of the rain. Something about it enamoured her. She couldn't take her eyes off of it. Perhaps she had a sense that this wasn't supposed to happen, though she couldn't exactly pinpoint why. That, and the strange splotches of red she'd noticed on the way here. At least they had gotten to where they needed to be.
"Another sudden drop in temperature," Raziel noted as he and Castiel flew in to join them. "Lucifer must be close. We have to keep going."
"And hope we don't die of hypothermia," Dean sighed. "Onwards, then."
Walking past the rundown stores of famous brands was like an anti-capitalist dream. All these great establishments were now nothing but broken glass and dust under the illuminating beams of their flashlights. Zara couldn't help but think that a cute skirt or top could be found if she went through the piles of destroyed clothes. And stepped over the dead bodies, of course. A bridge of sorts connected this sector of the mall to another across the road. It was at this point the angels stopped them. They both paused abruptly in their step, causing the hunters to do a double take.
"You feel that?" Raziel asked, one hand gesturing the hunters to stay back as he looked around.
Castiel appeared similarly befuddled. "The stench of demons grows stronger," he said. "We have to be cautious. They could be anywhere."
They slowly inched across the bridge. The moment they stepped into the other side of the mall, Dean took a sniff and cringed. "Eugh," he couldn't help but grunt. "Smells like a landfill in here."
"Wasn't even like this in Carthage that one time," Sam recalled, instinctively holding a hand to cover his mouth and nose. "What happened, did their BO get worse?"
"It's a bad sign," Castiel said. He and Raziel flanked the hunters as they made their way through the mall. "The demons are becoming more… demonic. Their power is rising."
"Must be all the bloodshed," Raziel speculated, brooding as he considered the possibilities. "More souls enter Hell, Lucifer gets stronger. Those loyal to Lucifer must draw their strength from him like an endless elixir."
"Will killing him help?" Dean wondered.
"Perhaps," Raziel granted. "Demons don't stop being demons once their King is gone. Remember, this trip isn't about killing him. I need to attempt a conversation, at the very least. Trying to kill him first will not do us any favours."
"So what's the plan?" Zara asked.
"Once we've determined his location, Castiel and the three of you will stay hidden," Raziel began, just as they passed through a store with a large entrance and ceiling. It used to be some kind of hardware shop, hence the large space it occupied. "I will summon and talk to him. If things go sideways…"
"We jump out of the shadows," Dean concluded, much to Raziel's discomfort. Yet, the angel didn't stop the hunter.
"If you don't land a blow on him on the first try…" Raziel trailed off. "You won't on the second."
Dean gulped, but remained taut. "Don't screw the pooch, got it."
The demons began as a trickle first. They emerged from the hammer section, and so had sufficient arms. Between dodging the flying tools and swinging fists, the five of them held their own well enough. For now. It became clear soon enough, however, that the trickle became a flood.
"Where are they coming from?" Sam yelled amidst the chaos. They seemed to just keep spawning from inside the store. Soon, a whole mob of demons dashed towards them. Raziel stuck a palm at the wave to push them back, albeit temporarily, while the hunters made it out into the hallway. As soon as the hunters stepped out, though, the demons advanced hastily towards the angel. Seeing that, Castiel immediately rushed to Raziel's side to help him put up a fight. In the mayhem, the angels and hunters got separated.
"Run!" Castiel yelled in their direction. "We'll find you!"
Saying a silent prayer, the hunters moved to oblige. Meanwhile, the mob of demons got extremely handsy, tugging and pushing the angels. Any metallic shine shot the fear of death through the both of them. They exchanged a terrified gaze, knowing time was short. The crowd was clamouring all about them, suffocating them in its sulfurous embrace. The angels had no choice but to drown in it.
One, two, three. Demons hurled away in messy flights away from them. The dense crowd remained, but at least some breathing space was bought. Castiel and Raziel stood in unison, hands joined and eyes glowing from the exertion. Teamwork was dreamwork.
At once, the two flew to safety right outside the store. Castiel directed a thought to yank the shutters down, essentially trapping the demons inside. "This won't hold for long," he said, arms outstretched to hold them in himself.
"I'll get the sigils done," Raziel vowed as he got to it. He held his arms out, eyes glowing celestial blue as he weaved the trapping sigils onto the shutter surface. "Just a little longer."
Sam, Dean and Zara had made it to a safe distance before they paused. The three panted for breath as they looked around them. "You think they're ok?" Sam voiced the question on all their minds.
"That didn't look good," Zara grimly said, turning to the boys. "I say we wait."
Dean half-shuddered in impatience. "If we don't see them in the next five minutes, I say we head back. We can't go on without them."
They took the time to replenish themselves. Sam took a sip of his water. Dean checked in on the campsite to see if things were holding up. Zara had wandered off to a fire exit nearby – the door to the stairwell had been completely busted open. Sam debated stopping her from going into the dense shadows, but realised that all of them needed space to get their thoughts in order. Besides, the stairwell offered a seat and a view of the storm outside. He tried not to worry.
"Everything alright back there?" Sam neared his brother.
"Yeah. Better than, actually. No attacks, just people happy to be alive," Dean reassured him, just as he cut the call. "At least there's a light at the end of the tunnel."
"Did you let them know where we are?"
Dean's eyes flickered. "They're really worried about us," he simply said.
"So?" Sam frowned. "You didn't tell them?"
"You know what's gonna happen if we do that," Dean stated as matter-of-fact. "They'll send the whole cavalry if they think we're in danger. We can't have that right now."
The younger Winchester could do nothing but sigh. "They're gonna hate it when we get back."
"Hey, I didn't ask you to come here," Dean huffed.
"And I didn't ask Zara to come here either, but here we all are," Sam threw up his hands.
"Guess we all just have the same disease," he shrugged, looking around himself. He tapped his foot repeatedly. "Where are they? They should be back by now."
The brothers stared back in the direction from which they came. Just a couple of turns down the hallway and they'd be able to see what was going on. The possibility of reassurance weighed competitively with the risk of being ambushed by the mob again. The air was deadly still. Nothing but the patter of rain could be heard.
"I don't know if I want to know the answer," Dean muttered to himself. "You think Lucifer knows we're here?"
"Oh, definitely," a voice slithered from behind them. They jerked to face the voice. Their flashlights converged on the blond Devil's face. Lucifer shot them a coy grin. "Hi, Sammy," he raised up a hand to wave. Then, he gave Dean a cold stare. "Dean."
The hunters stood rooted to the ground, not knowing how to deal with the archangel at such a close distance. They tried not to make any sudden moves, though they had their measly angel blades trained on him as he moved to a comfortable position. Lucifer stepped away from the shards of glass littering the floor, standing right in front of that dark fire exit. The skylights and windows allowed lightning to cast its speedy flashes of light on him. In those split seconds, the archangel's towering wings cast imposing shadows on the walls. It was also in those moments that the ghastly scarlet stain on his shirt appeared most mortally clear.
"I heard a couple of my old pals were in town, so of course I had to come and receive them with open arms," Lucifer stretched out his hands. "What seems to be the matter, boys?"
"We are not pals," Sam growled.
"Aren't we?" the archangel tilted his head, his lips slowly inching into a devious curve. "So you basically spend all of these past few months courting me, and now you're playing hard-to-get? Mixed signals much?"
"The hell are you talking about?" Dean asked through a clenched jaw. Silently, he'd already begun the prayer.
"Don't you get it? We're kindred. We want the same things," Lucifer passionately put forth. "We want the world to be a better place."
"You?" Sam narrowed his eyes cynically. "You want the world to be a better place? Just a couple years ago, you were trying to destroy everything."
"I'll admit, Sammy, I was," Lucifer confessed. "My mission then was to put an end to something that began over a million years ago. I don't want to live in the past anymore. I want to move forward. You see…" he dug his hands in his pockets. "Everything in this world has its place. Mine is to be at the top. After all, I am the next best thing after God."
"Buddy, if there's anything history's shown, it's that we don't need God. Or the next best thing," Dean argued. "You wanna be God? Get gone."
Lucifer nodded back his head, considering what they had to say. "You don't really understand what I'm offering," he said. "You think humanity's free, but you couldn't be more wrong. You have overlords, people controlling the strings. This war…" he gestured to the skies. "…has exposed all these so-called gods who have ruthlessly and shamelessly imposed their own laws on the world. It's oligarchy among humanity and anarchy amongst gods. This world wasn't made for them. Humanity wasn't made to be watched by Zeuses and Shivas. If anyone can do it right, it's me. I will control them and keep them in line. Humanity will be better off for it."
"Like the people in Westney were better off?" Sam challenged. "You don't care about humanity. At least be honest about it."
"God cared about humanity. More than you will ever know," Lucifer hissed back. "So much so that He neglected me. And even He brought down floods and infernos to set humanity straight. Sometimes a tough hand is needed to put things in order."
He took a single step forward. The boys immediately raised their knives. Anytime now, Sam thought. "There isn't a bone in your body that cares about making things better," Sam spat out caustically. "You just want power and once you get it, it's game over for everyone else. It ain't happening."
"But it already is," Lucifer tilted down his head, letting the shadows naturally engulf his eye sockets. Only the red could be gleaned from them now. "The natural order has been prodded and agitated for centuries. It's time to make things right. After all, we don't have time for true natural selection."
The sound of wings flapping interrupted them. "Lucifer," Raziel said authoritatively.
Seeing the angel stand alone, Dean grew alarmed. "Where's Cas?" he demanded to know. Raziel's firm eyes seemed to beg him to remain calm as he moved to stand between the hunters and Lucifer.
"Ah, Raziel," Lucifer greeted. "I hear you're a big shot in Heaven now. Congrats on the promotion, by the way. I always knew you were meant for great things."
The angel didn't seem impressed by the flattery. "We need to talk," he said.
"Do we? Alright," Lucifer relented. "Where are the rest of the Avengers then? The council?" Raziel gave him a blank stare. "Oh, you're here alone? Going behind the backs of those who trust you to enact their will? That's underhanded, pal," Lucifer shook his head disapprovingly. "Besides, don't you know it's dangerous for an angel to walk alone in these parts?"
"I'm here in good faith," Raziel stated. "I don't mean you any harm. But there are things that need to change."
"Absolutely," Lucifer nodded. "Aren't you tired of cleaning up other people's messes, Raziel?" That elicited another puzzled glare. "You're a good angel. You stand by your principles and know, better than anyone, what needs to be done. Why can't other people see that? Why can't they just let you do your job?"
Raziel suppressed a shiver. He told himself repeatedly that temptation was always the Devil's strength. "What do you know?"
"I've heard whispers," Lucifer confessed. "Your exploits haven't gone unnoticed. With the angels, I can only imagine. I used to be where you are. My brothers and I used to run that whole shindig, remember? I know what it's like, trying to convince people of errors that are in plain sight and solutions that should be intuitive. Man, it was exhausting. But what if people like us could be where we're meant to be? What if you could make Heaven the place it needs to be?"
"Heaven already is what it needs to be," Raziel calmly rebutted. "Not ruled by any one person. The voice of the angels matters."
"Hmph," Lucifer huffed, shrugging. "Suit yourself. I'm guessing you don't have a deal for me because no one in your little parliament can agree on what it should be. That's why you're here, isn't it?"
Raziel ignored his little jibe. "This course you're on is unsustainable," he stated. "You aren't the only powerhouse. Your narrative isn't the centre of the universe anymore. It's time to assimilate, not dominate."
"You know, if it wasn't for the fact that Sophia favoured you, you'd be gone, just like that," Lucifer snapped his finger. Raziel and the Winchesters collectively flinched, but relaxed sparingly knowing that no one was dead. "For her sake, I'll not harm you. But you need to learn your place. You do have one, by the way. You could have so much more too, if you helped me. If you want a seat at my table, get with the program."
"My loyalties are with Heaven, and Heaven's mission is to protect humanity," Raziel remained firm. "Whatever it is you want with the pagans, I cannot allow humanity to become collateral damage. If you end this war, or take your fight somewhere no one else gets hurt, I could help you. Let me mediate this dispute between you and them."
"I'm not interested in peace right now," Lucifer refused, eyes narrowing mockingly. "I mean I was. I am, but those people really wanted to push my buttons. They're not going to stop now, even if I do."
"Let us try," Raziel insisted. "And if they continue to attack your people, I will assign a task force to help you with security."
"That's compelling. Really," Lucifer nodded. "You're really trying, with everything you can think of. But no, I don't want your help. See, Raziel, I already have a plan and it's going just fine. I don't want anything to change."
"There has to be something you want," Raziel shot back, shoulders tensing. His mind raced to find ideas – anything that could help. "What if the angels took Zara? You need her, don't you?"
"Wait a minute…" Sam spoke up from behind him. "What're you doing?"
The Winchester's words fell on deaf ears. "You need Zara," Raziel pushed on. "This isn't a barter trade. But we both know you need her alive. The angels are already speaking her name. I could steer the conversation elsewhere."
"Don't assume to know about things you have no understanding of," Lucifer warned, holding his chin up to look at the angel condescendingly. "You want to take her? Fine, go ahead. See how that works out for you."
"You have to give me something, archangel," Raziel demanded. "Conflict between us is unnecessary and ugly, but what choice do you give me? If not for you or for me, for Sophia's sake, I ask you this: Is this the world you want her to come back to? Are you set on burning everything she has built out of mere spite for her?"
"You have no idea what's between us," Lucifer raised a finger commandingly. "Or what was."
"I have some idea. After all, it was me Sophia came to right before she left," Raziel admitted. "If she were here, she'd tell you this war is suicidal. This time, you have no Michael. You have no enemy but yourself. You may win, and you may even rule the world, but at what cost? Is it worth it to have the whole world against you?"
"You act like it already isn't," Lucifer stated despondently. "Face it, Raziel. The only way through is forward. I'll finish what I've started. You're invited to preach a gospel to me after." The futility of the conversation wore them both out. The archangel rubbed the back of his head in dismissive thought. "This world…" he sighed. "This world has a cleansing long overdue. What you saw today is just the beginning. Although, this terrible storm wasn't in the weather forecast…" he trailed off, distracted by the skies. Then, he waved a hand nonchalantly. "Doesn't matter. I am the way, the harbinger of a new dawn. I am the Lightbringer."
"Lucifer, please," Raziel implored. "Let us find a better way. Leave some room for compromise."
A flash of lightning filled the scene with blinding wattage. Behind the archangel, the split-second lighting illuminated a figure creeping towards him, keeping as low as possible. Dean's eyes met Zara's, who warned him not to give her away. Each step she took was measured to make as little noise as possible. She gripped the archangel blade tightly in her hand, blade facing down.
"The light of salvation cannot be compromised," Lucifer remained defiant. "I'm not the Bogeyman, people. What I'm offering is hope. You'll see."
"But…" Sam stuttered, knowing what needed to be done. "You kinda are the Bogeyman. No one wants hope from Satan."
"Yeah," Dean agreed, huffing awkwardly. Lucifer looked between them with a suspicious frown riddling his forehead, but the two kept their confident postures.
"You do know that I am an archangel, right?" Lucifer pressed. "I was something before Satan. You will understand soon enough."
"We get it," Raziel played along. "You've fought wars. You've ruled Heaven. You have experience."
Dean raised an eyebrow in askance. "Yeah, OJ was a great athlete, Ted Bundy was a ladies' man, Manson had tunes," he rambled sardonically. "And you're… experienced."
"You mock me," the archangel said patronisingly. He took another step forward. Raziel stepped back in accordance, hands reaching out a little more just to widen the barricade. "Say what you will, but it's not going to stand in the way of progress."
Zara was close enough. She brought her right arm back over her head. She paused for just a second to shift her balance and in one firm leap, she pounced forward. With barely any effort, Lucifer spun around swiftly. He grabbed her right hand with a firm grasp and plunged the knife back into her abdomen. A gasp choked in her throat.
"No!" Sam yelled, dashing forward with his angel blade. Lucifer exhaled. The Winchesters and Raziel were flung back and pinned to the ground. This, all while his hand still gripped the hilt of the archangel blade. Blood gushed out of her mouth. Unbridled terror filled her wide eyes, which regarded Lucifer with a betrayed shock. Her weak hands fumbled against him. His free hand caressed her cheek.
"Reunited at last," he smiled.
Lightning flashed again. This time, it brought with it a company of five. "Stop," Castiel ordered. Encircling Lucifer and Zara was the trenchcoated angel, along with Pahaliah, Dinah, Shemsiel and Rahab – Raziel's happy few.
They collectively raised their palms at him. Lucifer pulled out the archangel blade, leaving Zara to fall messily to the ground.
"Step away from her," Pahaliah snarled at him. They warned first with the celestial glow paused in their palms. "In the name of Sophia, archangel of wisdom, we order you-"
"You order me?" Lucifer spat out bitterly. "You dare use her name?"
"You know she wouldn't want this," Pahaliah remained fierce. Her eyes pointing at Zara's rapidly bleeding form, she said, "That is a line even you should rue to cross."
"Assuming it's a line that still exists," he posited casually. Seeing that the angels weren't going to stand down, Lucifer flapped his wings and disappeared.
Brimstone, Washington – 10 December, 3.42am
"It's time," the archangel said. "Give Horus the signal."
Abaddon nodded. She joined the demons on the ground. From Lucifer's vantage point, they were all neatly-spaced dots amidst the concrete and the fire on the streets below. Hades gave the command. The demons knelt on one knee at once. In unison, they hammered fists to the ground. They kept doing this over and over again, forming a tribal drumbeat.
Lucifer filled his lungs with the troposphere. He performed his role with the skies and the air, while Horus played his own part.
A lone falcon roved the air. Horus' winged companion scanned the ground thoroughly, screeching a song at the sight of every corpse of supernatural nature. It didn't matter who they had been fighting for in the war. They all heard the song. Once the falcon's cry reached their ears, their eyes shot open in a deadly greyish glow. This timed collaboration between Lucifer and Horus raised the army with the power of the blood moon. Be it Rakshasa or Dragon, Gladiator or Beetle People—they were all Lucifer's now. The zombies hissed and crackled, all while rising slowly towards the sky.
The moon's ghastly scarlet glow painted the undead through its skylight in the clouds while the raging storm attempted to wash off the tint in abject futility. Up till this point, the war of the gods had sputtered sparks through the layer of clouds like fireworks. Once the floating zombies, accompanied by Lucifer, passed through and above the clouds, only a few moments had to pass before complete silence was observed.
The Next Day, 11 December 2012, 7.05am
The clouds had been dragged away by the adamant push of the breeze. Zara awoke to the sound of birds chirping. She scrunched her eyes at the sudden awareness of light. Images filled her mind. Red eyes, darkness and pain. She jolted awake, clutching her abdomen. Nothing. No pain.
She looked around herself, only to find other beds with people on them. Most were still asleep, especially those with some form of injury or another. Those who were awake were wearily so – they talked to loved ones quietly or sat by their lonesome. The tent was like a cemetery come to life. Zara decided it was best to step outside.
Some hunter whose name she'd forgotten offered her a cup of coffee in a Styrofoam cup and she accepted. The instant caffeine pumped some life into her veins. Even at this early hour, people were bustling about. So long as the sun was up, work would be done. Speaking of, her newly reborn eyes spotted the faded blood moon near the horizon. She was absolutely enamoured by its sight like a flag at half-mast. It must have been a while she just stood this way, mentally paying respect to the moon, as if she expected a message or a reply from that rock in the sky.
"Zara," someone called out. It was Robinson. "Sam and Dean are over there."
He pointed at some vague direction, following which, Zara did find the brothers. "Am I the only one who got any sleep here?" she snarked as she sat next to them on the common table. "Maybe you guys need to be stabbed too."
"Already feel like it," Sam mumbled as he rubbed his tired eyes. The eye bags were prominent for both of them. "How you holding up?"
"I'm well-rested. That's all I can really say," Zara answered. Her gaze zoned in on her coffee. "Everything is like… a nightmare. It's fuzzy in my head. Even works me up a little to think about it. What exactly happened?"
From that sad puppy look on Sam's face, Zara knew she was in for something special. "On the bright side, we got what we were looking for. We found Lucifer," he sighed, scratching his stubble. "We should've known it was a stupid plan from the start. Raziel tried to talk some sense into him. Didn't work, no big surprise there. Then you tried to attack him from the back… and well I think you know what happened after that. Raziel's friends showed up and forced him to stand down, so he took off. The goth chic—Dinah, I think—healed you up and brought you here."
"You tried," Dean repeated for emphasis. "To be honest, it could've been any one of us getting the chop from him."
"Guess I just wasn't fast enough," Zara regretted.
"This isn't on you, Z," Dean assured her. "You didn't make Lucifer win this thing or stab you. You did what you had to do. And uh- everyone here's really appreciative of that."
"You told everyone?" she wondered, surprised.
"We had to," Sam chimed in. "We almost thought we lost you. It's a damn miracle you're alive after what you did. You took one for the team, Zara. People need to know that."
If I say so myself, she smirked internally. Externally, though, her eyebrows did a little jump. "You guys would've done the same," she said. "Though I gotta say, I didn't realise months of being chased by his goons was all just to get stabbed in the gut later. Feels a little anti-climactic."
"Huh," Sam was intrigued.
"The real magic happens when your soul gets dragged to Hell," Dean answered. "Luckily, you won't have to find out."
Zara tried to stretch a smile in consolation, but that was all it was – a stretch of the lips. Her pensive eyes made her seem detached, which the Winchesters understood all too well. Sam reached for her hand. He gingerly traced circles on the back of her palm. Small gesture though it was, the last remnant of relief in his eyes brewed something warm in her chest. A smile itched to be seen on her face.
"I'm sorry you had to see that," she told Sam. "I… I should've listened to you. I should've stayed here."
"Yeah, you should've," he grumbled softly, eyes darting back to his coffee. "But it's all in the past now. What matters is that we're here."
His words said one thing, but his despondent eyes said another. Despite knowing everything she'd done was purposeful, Zara couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. "You deserve better," she said, maintaining eye contact. "I know I don't always listen to you and it probably drives you up the wall-"
"It does," he confirmed without hesitation. "I just don't want to lose you. Again."
His grip on her hand tightened. Her heart raced without permission. "I'll make an effort next time," she vowed. "I'll play it safer."
For all the commotion they withstood the night before, that day was particularly calm. That by itself, however, wasn't a positive thing. It wasn't a calmness by choice. It was the stench of loss, destruction and helplessness. Everyone who was there felt it. The future was a mist created by the fog weaver.
In a tent closer to the outskirts of the camp, Jack had the space all to himself to handle all manner of important things. Paperwork, supplies, transport—he managed it all in here. He'd changed his clothes into a drier ensemble, though his hair was still damp from the night before. He sipped on his coffee and set it on the table, the edge of which he sat on while perusing a document. That moment, however, he had a visitor.
"Am I interrupting?" the Mesopotamian demigod was dressed immaculately as always. He was in a tailored grey suit with a black shirt underneath and wore a reassuring smile.
"Hovan," Jack uttered his name. Seeing Hovan then, sunlight filtering past him in a warm silhouette, was an experience that brought a reflexive grin to his face. "Glad you could make it."
That grin, though, didn't last too long. Hovan's eagle-like eyes softened to see the melancholy on Jack's face. It even made his heart sink a little. "There was nothing you could've done, Jack," he exhaled.
The archangel half-shook his head. His body was still tense from the emotions of yesterday. "I don't like feeling this way," he said with a bitter taste tinging his mouth. "I had to do something. I tried everything I could."
"I know, I know," Hovan muttered reassuringly. His own eyes strained at their edges to think about it. "Word has it Crowley fled town on a lone fiery chariot, courtesy of Ares. Your doing, I'm assuming."
Jack neglected to comment.
"You should know that things have long gone beyond the tipping point. No one person has the ability to say 'stop'," Hovan continued, sharing the news with one hand crossed over the back of his other. "Both sides are so riled up by their divisions that there's no consoling them. Anything deviating from the official narrative is just going to get you labelled a traitor. So don't hold yourself responsible for the actions of these people. They weren't going to listen to you in the first place."
"I suppose you'd know," Jack shrugged. "You tried to tell your wife, didn't you?"
"Once Farah sniffs an opportunity, there's no stopping her," Hovan sighed. "She wasn't the only one I warned either—that was my mistake, you see. They tried to put a hit on me that night, during the party."
"Yeah, I heard," Jack widened his eyes, but it wasn't in shock. His pupils flickered about while Hovan was distracted by the absurdity of it all. "W-what happened with that, by the way? Did they ever find out who was behind it?"
Hovan shook his head slowly. "We have no idea. Whoever wanted me dead hired the world's worst assassin. Completely missed the mark," he frowned, puzzled. "I can only imagine that guy's not doing too well right now."
Boy, do I know. "I suppose Farah doesn't know about your involvement here either," Jack wondered.
"Oh, she doesn't suspect a thing," Hovan assured him. "She probably thinks I'm golfing in Italy. We lead our lives as far apart as possible. Used to be that I only saw her once a year for our wedding anniversary—though I prefer to call it an expensive Improv session. These days, though, it's almost like we're cohabiting again."
"Hm." Jack's bubble gum lips curved up on one side briefly. "I can assure you, I've gone to lengths to hide any connection to you. At most, they'll find my name on these documents. Never yours."
"You didn't have to do that," Hovan said, amusement picking up the tone of his voice. "I don't care anymore if people find out what I feel. Everything involving my name's already been set in stone. Farah made sure of that."
"Please, Hovan," Jack said with a serpentine drawl. He almost didn't mean to do it, but once the racy implications were made, he stopped regretting it. "They already made an attempt on your life once. We need to at least try being careful." The demigod huffed at the archangel's commanding concern. Quickly shuffling some exposed documents into a locked drawer, Jack led him outside. "Besides, I think you should see what your resources have gone into."
Keeping a professional distance, Jack showed him around. The civilian tents were absolutely packed, but at least there were no open wounds or dead people on the beds. A few people looked up here and there as the two walked past. Some even recognised Jack from earlier conversations. Finally, they came upon the hunters, most of whom had gathered at the common tables for a shared breakfast.
"Hey Jack," Dean greeted. "We almost thought we'd never see you again."
The hunters all stopped mid-conversation and looked at the strange pair approaching. Immediately, Zara felt the strange vibes emanating from the man next to Jack. She grew cautious.
"Just wanted to introduce everyone to someone very important," Jack replied cordially.
Dean took the cue and moved to stand next to him. This time, he addressed the other hunters, "Fellas, this is Jack Pierce. The man, the myth, the angel himself. Without him, we wouldn't be here. Every one of us owes him big time. Jack, hope you accept payment in beer."
Chuckles broke through on their faces after hours of serious dedication.
"I just want to say," Jack began, clasping his hands together. "I'm so thankful to all of you for believing in me, coming here on such short notice. All of you took a chance with me – some guy you barely know. I'm glad it really paid off. We couldn't stop the war, I don't need to tell you that. A bunch of angry gods fight, what can we do, right? It's an impossible circumstance with no good solutions. But what matters is that you're here at all, and you've managed to help over a thousand people escape the city and retreat to safety. Every life you save is a big victory in itself." He looked at every single one of their faces, finding nothing but sympathy and compassion in them. "None of this would've been possible without our very generous donor. All these tents, the medical staff, the supplies are all courtesy of this man right here." He gestured towards the demigod, who smiled upon them proudly. Turning to Hovan, Jack said, "You took a chance with me too, Hovan. I can't express how much it means to me that you would arrange for all of this so quickly."
To that, Hovan said to everyone, "Resources mean nothing without expertise. It's clear that Jack has a lot of it. Jack Pierce is the backbone of this operation." He rested a hand against Jack's shoulder. "We're lucky to have you in this world."
"Oh, stop," Jack gushed, visibly amused amidst the agreeing murmurs of the hunters. "I didn't do much, really."
Zara's face lit up with a one-sided smirk. "Stop being so humble," she said light-heartedly. "I know how much you love the sound of your own voice."
Jack burst into a chuckle. "Guilty as charged," he confessed with a coy flair. "I've said my piece. Y'all get back to it now."
As Jack and Hovan left, Zara kept a keen eye trained on their exiting figures until they were out of sight. Hovan… where have I heard that name before?
Back in his tent, Jack breathed a contented sigh. "I really meant it, Hovan," he said, stepping close to the demigod. They were both at eye level, so looking deep into his eyes was an easily accessible luxury. "I normally don't do this. I've always had this problem, you know? I can't trust people. When I found out this war was going to happen, I… I freaked out. You were the first person I thought of. Thanks for answering my call."
"Anytime, Jack," Hovan took the archangel's hand in his. "I have to admit, I was sceptical when I got your call. You're a real mystery, you know? You really moved mountains to make this work."
"What can I say? At this point, I can do anything," Jack raised both his eyebrows in sheer wonder at all of his past accomplishments.
"I believe you," Hovan said, running his thumb over Jack's knuckles. He raised Jack's hand to his lips and kissed it. "I have to say, this wasn't quite how I imagined our second date to be."
A shy smirk was exchanged between them. Their eyes met. A tingle of electricity shot through the archangel. There was such firmness in Hovan's brown eyes – such force that it made Jack wonder what was beyond that aloof, mysterious wall. A mere second of contemplation passed before Jack sprung forward to kiss him. The softness of his lips took the archangel by surprise. Hovan reciprocated once, then gazed at him and pushed a strand of Jack's hair behind his ear. He caressed Jack's cheek and pulled him closer for more. Now it was like they were magnetically connected, sucking on and biting each other's lips. The invisible barrier between them seemed completely broken, allowing nothing but gentleness to flow. When they finally came apart, it was with this understanding.
"I hope I've made up for it," Jack whispered, still in Hovan's intimate proximity.
By the time Jack regrouped with Sam, Dean and Zara, the other hunters had dispersed to go about their assigned duties. He settled next to Zara on the bench. When he did, she stared at him with a suspicious look in her eyes but an entertained smile. Zara rested her cheek against her palm as she did this. "Man, I've never seen you thirst over someone this much," she joked. Sam was clearly puzzled, but he was curious too.
"Was it that obvious?" Jack wondered.
"You're oozing thirst," Zara further teased, before finally relenting. "Good for you."
"So… how you feeling? I heard that you were in a terrible condition last night," he asked. A slight discomfort peppered his voice.
"I'm… fine," she hesitated. He suddenly seemed unusually withdrawn. His lips lacked their usual cheeriness. There was more that needed to be said between them but this wasn't the time for it. "I'm fine, Jack."
Some pained thought crossed his mind and he just shook his head to dismiss it. "I can't believe he would do that to you," he muttered.
His confusion was itself confusing to the Winchesters, especially Sam. "Of all the things that happened last night, Lucifer stabbing Zara wasn't exactly the most unexpected turn of events. It's the only thing I can wrap my head around, actually," Sam ran a hand through his own hair. "You should've seen him. He was going on about some wacky stuff."
"Wacky how?" Jack inquired, leaning forward in his seat.
"Something about becoming God and fixing the natural order," Sam recalled. "Whatever that means."
"Yeah sounded like something right out of Heaven's Gate," Dean agreed, eyes widening. He played every moment of that conversation over in his head. Something stood out to him. His brows crossed. "What was it he said about the past few months? That we were courting him?"
"Who knows what that means," Zara huffed. "He isn't exactly the archangel of sanity."
"But think about it," Dean insisted. "Everything we hunted last month was some mook we saw in Brimstone. I'm sure of it. The Rakshasas, the Dullahan, the gladiators—they were all fighting Lucifer's freaks, weren't they?" A defeated exhale pushed through his lips. "God, did we really help him fight his fight?"
"They're our enemies too," Sam pointed out. "Those monsters were still monsters. Doesn't matter whose side they were on. They had to go. But you're probably right. He's been using us and we didn't even know it."
"Dammit," Dean released a swift exhale. "He's been ahead of us this whole time."
Jack gulped back heavy thoughts. "I wish there was something I could do," he muttered despondently. "I wish I could talk to him."
"Raziel already tried that," Zara told him definitively. "Didn't exactly go as planned. Save your breath."
"He'd listen to me," Jack insisted, eyes roving over the table. "I know he will."
Dean shook his head in disagreement. "You know, it's real cute that you angels think you can speak some sense into Satan. But evil is evil. The time for conversation is over," he laid out firmly. "I'm tired of being paralysed."
"Dean's right. We all saw what kind of plan Lucifer has for the world. He isn't exactly in a negotiable mood," Sam agreed. "We have the spell. We just need to find the ingredients and be done with it. I don't like this but… Crowley may be our only hope."
"Bad idea," Jack sighed. "He threatened to lay waste to this camp. If I see him, I ain't gonna make conversation."
"Believe me, we don't wanna stand in your way," Dean assured him albeit with a hardened voice. "But the world is at stake. As much as I hate to consider working with that underhanded sleaze, he did pull through when we needed to fight the big bad."
"The big bad," Jack huffed at the term. "However 'big' you think this 'bad' is, you shouldn't use forces you can't put a leash on, especially if you don't trust them."
After loosely agreeing to help them, Jack took his leave to get back to work. After all, the civilians needed to be relocated somewhere safe, debriefed on their trauma and taken to more sophisticated medical care. All that wasn't going to be easy and he needed to get it done within a few days – this temporary setup wouldn't last very long and the hunters needed to get back to hunting. So it was abrupt when Zara stormed into his tent all of a sudden and assumed a seat at the table.
"Hovan Avedis," she simply said to him, arms folded. "As in, husband to Farah Avedis."
Jack knew this was inevitable. He looked deeply in her cold eyes, hoping to find a light he could reach. "Zara," he set a bunch of papers down onto the table. "I'm asking you, as a friend-"
"You knew I would connect the dots," she interrupted. "And yet you paraded him around here, in front of my eyes. Why would you do that, knowing that it's a conflict of interest?"
"I couldn't just not show the man who funded this whole gig what his money went into," he explained calmly. "Besides, I never told you his last name. It's not a conflict of interest if you didn't know who he was."
"But I do know. He and his wife helped Lucifer close deals in the last month," she pointed out. "First of all, are you really buying his good Samaritan charade? And if that was true at all, you know I'd have to call it in as a breach of trust."
"You don't have to do that," Jack implored with upturned eyes. "Safe space, darling. I trust you to keep it to yourself."
"You just assumed that I would do that?" Zara scoffed at the sound of that. After some thought, however, she eased up. "If Lucifer asks me, I cannot lie to him."
"He won't ask you because he won't suspect a thing. This is a completely masked operation and I'd like to keep it that way," Jack assured her. "What's the matter, you sound afraid of him."
"It's not fear," Zara denied. "It's love. I don't want to keep secrets from him."
"It's not healthy to love someone who doesn't reciprocate it," Jack advised.
"Yet you claim to love me," Zara pointed out.
"Aren't you always calling me a hypocrite?" Jack challenged with a mischievous glint in his eye. "A hypocrite's gotta be hypocritical."
"Joke's on you, 'cause I do love you back," Zara argued with a childish, train-like speed.
"I'm honoured. Truly," Jack smiled.
That smile was truly an enigma to her. "Fine," she huffed like it was some effort. "You can have your way. This time."
"Thank you, Your Grace. You have benevolence unknown," Jack mockingly said. There was still one question on his mind. "So why did he stab you back there?"
"Shock value," she blandly uttered. "He knew some angel would put me back together. Cas, in all likelihood. It didn't turn out that way but the impact is clear. No one here's ever gonna vilify me."
"In all likelihood? You mean he just stabbed first and hoped for the best," Jack had a distinctly disturbed expression.
"Don't think too much about it," Zara casually advised. A natural pause fell between them and he went back to reading his document. Maybe it was the effects of the waning blood moon, but she couldn't just leave him with that sour mood. Normally, she'd be silent. "I…" she straightened up in her chair. "I made a promise to Sam."
It was enough to get Jack's attention.
"I promised I would 'play things safe'," she confessed, refusing to meet his gaze. "I know my methods of making things work in my favour can be upsetting to some…"
"You mean the way you always put yourself in disproportionate danger?" Jack retorted. His shapely brows formed a sharp arch when he frowned. "Not saying you can't fight for what you want, but you gotta know your limits. It's like if I wanted to arm wrestle with God. We both know ya boi Scrawny Arms here will get his ass handed to him. Well, it's about time you wised up. I'm glad."
"I was just trying to reassure him," Zara shot back with a sharpness she didn't intend. "Just to- to get him off my back, alright? Can't have him constantly looking over my shoulder and getting disappointed."
"Zara, just shut up and love whoever you want, alright?" he snapped, eliciting a flinch from her. "God, do you have to get so defensive about everything?"
"You don't get it," she insisted. "Sam is about to be-" she cut herself off with a gulp. "Majorly disappointed."
Jack squinted at her in an attempt to read between the lines. Then, it clicked for him. "Lucifer's going to do something soon," he inferred sombrely. "The boys aren't going to be useful much longer. He'll terminate your mission."
"We may never see each other again," Zara stated outright. "That… goes for you and me too."
When he saw the slight deviation in her eyes – the slight shifting that betrayed her feelings – he moved across the table to sit next to her. "Tell me honestly," he demanded with a gentleness only he could have. "What do you want? Do you want to stay with Sam and Dean?"
She remained silent, pupils fixed on some arbitrary spot.
"You have to tell me what you want for me to help you," Jack said sincerely.
"I want to finish my mission," she lifelessly uttered. "I want to see Lucifer win. He deserves it."
"At this point, it'll be hard to stop him," Jack admitted. "Which means you don't have to constantly sacrifice yourself for him. He doesn't need it." He put a hand on her shoulder. "Look, I've known people who have loved across enemy lines. In the end, love prevails over all."
"I don't…" she hesitated to utter the words. She felt like she'd tasted something bitter. "Love him."
"Are you sure?" Jack questioned. "Whatever it is you're feeling, I support your right to follow it. It doesn't matter what anyone tells you to do."
"I… I can't," she struggled to push out the words. "It's easy for you to say these things. But can you imagine the curse it would put on Sam and Dean's heads? There'll be nowhere safe for them."
Jack was almost relieved to see the discomfort on her face. "Just a few days ago, you were talking about how Sam and Dean needed to get their hopes crushed," he reminded her. "What changed?"
"That's different," she defended. "I needed them to stop hindering Lucifer. But now, after the things I've seen… it's getting real. Lucifer's world is here. There's no place for… them, especially if they keep standing in his way."
"I haven't known the Winchesters for very long, but I have a feeling they aren't going to stop," Jack remarked plainly. "I'd be the same."
"I- I need you to understand," she emphasised every word. "I don't like feeling this way, but there's nothing I can do about it. I just want you to know what to expect."
"You want me to take care of them when you're gone," Jack realised, much to his chagrin. "Take care of them yourself," he huffed defiantly.
"Hey," she said in warning.
"I mean it," Jack didn't budge. "If that's what you want, do it. You're a person too, Zara. Stop compromising for the sake of some bigger plan. There is no plan! The universe means fuck all. Trust me, I know. You're also a mortal, which means your time here is limited. Don't spend it being miserable."
"I'm not… miserable," she said, though her voice lacked its usual firmness. "Jack, my life was never meant to be normal. Sometimes I think I was always born to serve someone else. It's not like there isn't any dignity in that. I felt like myself most when Sophia was here."
"It may seem like that. I respect whatever choice you make," Jack sighed. "Just realise that it doesn't mean you don't have an impact on the world. You definitely have an impact on me."
"I feel sorry for you, then," she sympathised. "You deserve better." With an obligatory smile exchanged between them, Jack went back to work. "I'll miss you, Jack," she said, getting up. "If I vanish without saying goodbye again, I want you to know that."
He swallowed away difficult feelings. "Lucifer may claim you back, but you won't be seeing the last of me, I can promise you that much," he swore.
She was about to leave, but decided to turn back around at the threshold. She had never seen him this way – so intensely poring over work like this. She had never known him to be so serious at anything. It had the same jarring feeling of seeing a puppy teach a class on nuclear physics. Her feet were reluctant to take on their decided path, especially knowing that he was going through all this paperwork on his own.
"Hey, uh," she called out to him. "Need help?"
