Screaming on the inside
I am frail and withered
Cover up the wounds
That I can't hide
Walls that lie between us
The saint within the sinner
I have lost the nerve
But it's all right
Carry the wounded and shut your eyes
All will be forgiven
None will rise
Bury the fallen and lead the blind
I will fight the loss
Dead inside
TWO MINUTES TO MIDNIGHT
1 week earlier
Sam's POV
They'd left me here, just … left me. Like a sack of hot potatoes and the more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I mean, I'd done a lot of stupid things, I got that, but I wasn't the only one! I couldn't believe that they'd sided with a demon over their own blood.
"And then Dean just walks…" I swigged on a bottle of whiskey, shaking my head as I held the phone to my ear. "... right out the door with Crowley and Beth."
"Well, look, Sam, I got no love for demons, and yeah, this whole thing is crazy, but … I don't know. After a year of chasing up zilch, maybe it's time to go crazy." Bobby's voice was both a blessing and a curse - there was no hiding from him.
I was at a loss for words, hearing what he was saying, but not liking it. What hurt me the most was that Bobby wasn't really wrong. It was time to go crazy. I'd been doing nothing but thinking about how to put Lucifer back in his cage.
"Yeah…. Maybe," I sighed. My heart felt heavy in my chest, and I thought for a moment that I might stop breathing with what I was considering. But how could I not? I took a deep breath, and made my decision.
"Hey, Bobby?" I ventured.
"Yeah?"
"Uh… remember that time you were possessed?" I asked carefully. I knew where I was going with it, and there was no hiding it. Pretty soon, this idea would be out there, Bobby would know, which meant Dean and Beth would find out too. You can't unring a bell. Yes, I was going to do this. I was going to raise the idea. I had to.
"Yeah. Rings a bell," Bobby said, his voice heavy and a little slurred like he'd had a few drinks himself.
"When Meg told you to kill Dean, you didn't. You took your body back," I reminded him.
"Just long enough to shank myself, yeah," Bobby agreed.
"Well, how'd you do it? I mean, how'd you take back the wheel?" I asked. There it was: the plan.
Bobby fell silent, and I knew he was weighing my words carefully.
"Why are you asking, Sam?" He said finally.
Well, it was now or never. I took a swig from the bottle of whiskey, gasping at the sharpness of it, and then grimaced.
"Say we can open the cage?" I asked. "Great. But then what? W-we just lead the devil to the edge and get him to jump in?"
"You got me," Bobby's voice was just as uncertain as mine. But I'd been giving this a lot of thought in the past few days, I knew what it was going to take.
"What if you guys lead the devil to the edge…. And I jump in?" I ventured.
Silence.
"Sam…."
"It'd be just like when you turned the knife around on yourself. One action...just one leap." As I said it, I didn't know who I was trying to convince more, Bobby or myself.
"Are you idjits trying to kill me?!" Bobby's voice spluttered over the phone.
"Bobby…"
"We just got done talking your brother off the ledge, and now you're lining up to say 'yes'?" He didn't sound pleased, not that I couldn't blame him. But he was the one who had said it - times were desperate.
"It's not like that,' I argued with him. "I'm not gonna do it. Not unless we all agree. But I think we got to look at our options."
"This isn't an option, Sam."
"Why not?"
"You can't do it. What I did was a million-to-one, and that was some pissant demon I was brain-wrestling. You're talking about taking back control from Satan himself."
"Yeah," I agreed. "Yeah. I am."
"Kid...It's called "possession" for a reason. You, of all people, ought to know." Bobby said.
"I'm strong enough!" I insisted. I knew I could do this. It wasn't just an idea I'd come up with.
"You ain't,' Bobby argued. "He's gonna find every chink in your armor, Sam, and use it against you. Your fear, your grief, your anger. And let's face it - You're not exactly Mr. Anger management. How are you gonna control the devil when you can't control yourself?"
I was so angry at him.
Ironically, he had a point. I had been channeling all this rage at our circumstances, our life, at the hunt. Because there was nothing else. Well, nothing else until now. I thought about Dean and Beth, everything that they were giving up just to be here, and that got me to thinking - there had to be another way: one that didn't involve them sacrificing themselves for me again.
An option where I could save them.
Present Day
Blue Earth, MN
Beth's POV
With the Whore of Babylon gone, Blue Earth had remarkably returned to its former quaint and small town beauty. I couldn't believe the transformation in just a few months. Gone were the barricades and the tanks of holy water, the streets were free from obstruction and one could drive around and see children playing in the parks, people walked their dogs, greeting the neighbours.
It was remarkably... normal.
For one short moment you could almost forget that we were on the precipice of the end of the world.
I eased the motorcycle in beside the chapel of our home and killed the engine, sitting and staring at the stained glass windows dark from this side of the wall. They still sparkled with the setting sun hitting the glass, but inside I knew it would be stunning.
I hadn't planned to end up here when I'd gone out for a ride to clear my head. But thirty minutes had turned into two hours, and now here I was. Miles away from Dean, from Sam and Bobby, from the very house that said everything hunting . I was now in front of the other part of my world that I'd continuously been denied.
I pulled out my phone and hit the top of my speed dial. I found I was holding my breath, not really sure how to explain where I was.
"Hey," Dean's voice sounded on the other side of the line.
"Hi," I said, swallowing. "Hey, listen…. I'm uh…"
"I'm an hour out," he cut in, and I closed my eyes, a little smile tugging at my mouth.
"You knew."
"I guessed, when you didn't come back after an hour. Checked your GPS and confirmed my gut feeling." He paused for a heartbeat, as if contemplating what to say.
"Are you okay?" Dean asked finally.
"Yeah," I said, nodding to myself. "I'm fine… I'm just…"
I couldn't finish that sentence, I had no reason for being here other than I needed to see the house, to be in our space, to visit our child… the one I'd spent years trying not to think about.
"I know," he said. "I'll be there soon."
"Okay." I said, and he hung up the other end.
I felt better knowing I wouldn't be alone. I'd never spent any time in Blue Earth on my own. Even when Dean had been in Hell, and I'd come here to pray and research, trying to come up with a way to rescue him, I hadn't been by myself; I'd had Jefferson to care for me and make sure I did the essentials like eating with the occasionally sleep.
With a slightly lighter heart, I climbed off the bike and set the stand in place. I walked around the corner of the chapel to a little key safe that Jefferson had installed behind a bush, punched in the code, and retrieved the keys to the property.
It wasn't long before I was moving through darkened rooms long abandoned. Drop cloths covered the majority of furnishings, and I realised that Jefferson had been here to put the house into a resting state when we'd left and gone after Sam. It seemed like so long ago.
I walked into the kitchen and stood by the island bench, staring sadly around the empty room. So many good memories had been created in this kitchen - with Pastor Jim as a child, Dean later on when we'd "retired" from hunting. I still couldn't cook, but I liked the idea that one day I'd have the chance to try again. Ideas that were quickly fading from sight as the reality of our fight against Lucifer started to hit home.
We were going to lose this fight, and I couldn't feel anything but numb.
My hands dropped down to my stomach, to where I knew our baby was growing. I hadn't even been to a doctor, I didn't need to. I had taken a pregnancy test, just to confirm what Gabriel had told me, but it hadn't been necessary - I knew in my heart that he'd been telling me the truth.
This time round I'd mercifully been spared the morning sickness… a bit of nausea here and there, but nothing like my first pregnancy where I'd had major mood swings and vomiting for the first trimester. Maybe God, or the angels, or whoever was responsible for this side of life had decided I had enough to worry about this time around.
The same apprehension and bittersweet feelings I felt when I'd been pregnant the first time reared their ugly head on a daily basis. It was hard to delight and take joy in a pregnancy knowing it was unlikely any of us would survive to see it through.
I wasn't showing yet. Not really. To the trained eye - mine, or Dean's - you could see the difference in my body - the softness to my abdomen, the swelling of my breasts, but anyone else would be oblivious. I was glad. It was hard enough to convince Dean to keep me on this crusade to save the world - I didn't want to be left on the sidelines. I wasn't Lisa, I couldn't raise a child on my own, not when it meant I'd have to let Dean go to his death in order to do so. I'd rather die with him, and that was the messed up truth of it all.
I let out a sigh and walked through the kitchen to the living room, cutting across the room to the door that would let me into the back of the chapel. It was a shortcut that saved me having to go outside and open the heavy wooden doors at the front.
It was still light enough that I could find my way into the chapel without turning on lights. I knew the power was still connected, Jefferson saw to that, but there was a comfort about lighting only candles in the chapel. I moved to the pillars on the altar and struck a match, placing the flame to the wicks and letting them catch.
The room already seemed cosier with that small change, but I wasn't done. I walked softly to the angel statue that stood guard over the ashes of my child, the statue that had been where Dean and I first met, where we married, where we were reunited upon his return from Hell. I lit a couple of the prayer candles in the stand and lifted my eyes to the wings spread above.
Closing my eyes, I connected into my soul, pushing my senses deep inside. I was seeking an angel, a real one, and the fear that he had perished following that attack from Odin had been too much for me to face until now.
Ezekiel….
Can you hear me?
I held my breath, waiting for a reply that I was starting to fear would never come.
Silence.
With my senses I delved further into my own mind, my heart, further than I had in a while. I sought anything different. If I looked hard enough I could feel the little person growing inside of me, the light housed inside of him or her, and yet when it came to Ezekiel it was as if he was simply…gone.
I sat down in the pew at the front, taking a few deep breaths.
Ezekiel...please.
Nothing.
My heart sank, and I dropped my head down into my hands. We hadn't heard from Gabriel or Sariel since their encounter with Lucifer. It was starting to look as if Gabriel had been correct in his video - he was dead, as was the red-headed fiery angel who had gone with him to face their brother. I didn't want to admit that perhaps Cas and Ezekiel were among the fallen in that list.
I pulled my rosary out from around my neck, reflecting ruefully that I still prayed to be delivered from the threat of hell on Earth, and yet I didn't really know who I was praying to. Perhaps it was only to myself, for the strength to continue, to convince myself that not all was lost. It was the comfort in the routine that I was unable to discard.
Before long I was completing my prayers, head bowed, when I felt the presence of someone else in the building. Glancing upward, it was unsurprising to see Dean leaning in the doorway from the house. He flashed me a grin when I smiled, straightening up and walking over to join me, his hands buried in his jeans.
"I didn't want to disturb you," he said quietly as he sat down beside me.
"Oh I'm already plenty disturbed," I said with a grin, bumping my shoulder against his.
Dean chuckled and slid his arm around my shoulders, his fingers rising to stroke softly at the base of my neck.
"Yeah, well, you're in good company then," he replied, turning to look at the statue in front of us. I wondered if he was silently acknowledging the ashes of our dead baby beneath that statue as he stared up, deep in thought. The moment passed and he leaned over and softly kissed my cheek.
We sat silently for a few moments, lost in our own thoughts. The chapel was deathly quiet around us, almost too much so. I shivered, and he pulled me a little closer.
"Come on," he said, "it's warmer in the house, I lit the fire."
"We're not going back to Bobby's?" I asked, surprised.
"Not tonight," he said, shaking his head.
We stood, and I blew out the candles that were still burning, letting Dean lead me out of the arkening chapel. I found my spirits lifted at the thought of spending a night alone with Dean in our house.
He led us into the kitchen, flipping the wall switch as we moved. As the room was flooded with light, I smiled at the containers of Chinese take-out on the bench. Dean moved to the fridge and pulled out a beer for himself and lemonade for me.
"You got dinner," I smiled, taking a look at the different boxes and wondering what he'd ordered.
"I figured you hadn't eaten since this morning," he said, twisting the lid off his beer and taking a long pull from the bottle. My stomach growled as if to agree with him and I groaned.
"You know I didn't plan this…I would have told you…."
"Beth," he cut in, moving closer and putting his hands on my shoulders. "It's okay, I understand."
I sighed, looking at his patient, worried eyes.
"This doesn't mean I'm planning on staying," I said with a wary tone.
"Oh I know," he nodded and my heart melted at the amused smile he tossed me.
I leaned in, wrapping my arms around his waist and laying my head against his firm shoulder. Dean started to stroke my back, and I smiled, revelling in the touch.
"Sometimes you surprise me," I murmured and he chuckled again, causing his chest to rise and fall. It was a comfort, feeling the way he breathed, having him hold me tightly. He'd been my dependable rock for over a decade, he'd never failed me on that.
"Good to know after all these years," he said, running a hand through my hair and smoothing it away from my face. He lifted my chin up and kissed me softly and slowly, cupping my face with his hand as I moaned my pleasure.
"Come on," he said a little breathlessly when he pulled back. "Let's eat, and talk."
"Just talk?" I asked, raising my eyebrow at him.
"We've got all night sugarpie," he said with a smirk. "I was thinking we might get some sleep in there too."
"Oh yeah?" I asked.
"Yeah," he grinned at me. "It's not like either of us have been getting much of that."
"Well, maybe you need to wear me out, Mr Winchester," I teased, raising my eyebrow as he rolled his eyes, grabbing a couple of Chinese containers before he placed a quick kiss against my lips.
"Food...first," he said, and then he led the way into the living room.
Later
We were curled up on the couch, the TV muted in the background as we got lost in our own conversation and fed each other dinner, enjoying the down time.
"This was a good idea," I smiled at Dean, holding out a piece of moo shu pork to him which he deftly nabbed from the chopsticks with his mouth and munched on thoughtfully.
"Mmmm," he nodded, swallowing and then taking a sip of his beer. "Well, truth is, we might not get many more of these opportunities."
I nodded quietly, looking down at my food.
"And I know I'm not going to be able to convince you to stay out of this fight," he added, taking the food out of my hands and putting it on the coffee table next to his own, turning my head to face him.
"That's right."
"So, we need to make the most of it," he said, leaning in to press his forehead to mine.
"I feel like we shouldn't," I confessed, shaking my head softly. "Like we should be focused on what comes next."
"I am," he said, "but I need this too."
His eyes met mine, a swirling vortex of green need and pain, and it took my breath away. I blinked a few tears back and cupped his cheek with my hand, kissing his lips gently. He leaned into the kiss, pushing me back until I was laying on the couch, his body following the length of mine, hovering above as he raised himself over me, supported by strong arms.
Dean kissed me slowly, deeply, and then started to trail his lips down my collarbone, his fingers sliding along my hips and down over my stomach. He pulled back, moving my shirt up to bare my abdomen, and then leaned down to kiss the soft skin and the couple of stretch marks that had been there for years.
"Dean…"
"You haven't said a thing about this," he said, looking up with sad eyes.
"I know."
"It's… I don't know… like you don't even want…"
"No!" I said, sitting up slightly and shaking my head at him. "No, don't even think that." I said, moving closer to kiss him quickly.
"Dean, I love you," I said, pushing on his chest until he was sitting and I could straddle his thighs, sitting in his lap with my arms draped over his shoulders. "I love our baby. I want nothing more than to just stay here forever, as a family." I took a deep breath, meeting his wary gaze with a stern look. "But not without you,' I added.
He nodded, sighing and shaking his head in a sad, slow motion.
"I don't know if we're going to make it out of this one Beth," he whispered. I nodded, running a hand through his hair, never breaking eye contact with him.
"I know," I whispered back. "I'm scared too."
"I just wish…"
I smiled sadly at him as he struggled to find the words.
"If I could give us this, I would," he said after a moment.
"I know," I replied, brushing my fingers along his cheek. He turned his head to press his lips into the palm of my hand, closing his eyes and leaning against my touch.
"It's not over yet," I said, though I wasn't sure my heart was in the words.
"No…" Dean murmured, kissing the palm of my hand, then, "what if it could be?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean… what if we really could put Lucifer back in his cage? Stop the end of the world?" Dean asked, his eyes looking troubled.
"Isn't that the plan?" I asked cautiously, feeling my brow knit at his change of conversation.
"Lucifer isn't just gonna jump into that cage, even if we do manage to get all these rings and open it up," he pointed out.
I bit my lip, staring down at him and sank down on his lap. I really didn't like the tone in his voice now, something was bothering him.
"What's going on?" I asked finally.
Dean let out a sharp hot breath, shaking his head slightly, his eyes welling up with tears.
"You're not gonna like it."
"What?" I pressed. "Dean, you're scaring me."
"I'm scaring myself," he whispered, looking deep into my eyes.
I felt as if the air was getting thick and I might choke, I took a few deep breaths to quiet the panic within.
"You're not planning to do anything stupid?" I asked.
Dean chuckled, shaking his head. "Me?" He asked, looking up at me. "Always. Going after Pestilence? Stupid. Death? Stupid. Taking my pregnant wife with me on any of this? Very stupid."
"Is there a 'but' in there?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
Dean smiled, kissing my nose. "But… I'm not talking about me. Or you. That's not what's scaring me."
"Then what?"
His eyes cut across the room, staring into the distance as he contemplated what he was going to say. I brushed my hand along his cheek again, and frowned, holding my breath as I waited for an answer.
"Sam wants to let Lucifer possess him, then take back control of his own body, and jump in the pit," Dean said after a moment, as if he was just ordering a pizza.
"He… he what?" I asked, my mouth falling open. "Are you serious?"
"As a heart attack."
"That's crazy. He… that wouldn't….would that even work?" I asked.
Dean shrugged, running a hand over his face. "I dunno. And well…. He's had some stupid ideas in the past, but this takes the cake. He's been talking to Bobby about when he was possessed, and how he got back control. He's serious."
I wasn't sure what floored me more. That Sam had been having these insane ideas, or the fact that Bobby was talking to him about it.
"Wow…" I said after a moment. I shifted in Dean's lap, turning to sit with my back to the arm of the couch, legs across him. Dean moved to accommodate me, his arm falling casually across my lap, softly stroking back and forth along my thigh.
"Tell me about it," he agreed.
"Well, he can't do it!" I said, shaking my head.
"That's the consensus," Dean replied, but something in his voice made me pause.
"Are you thinking about it?" I asked.
Dean looked skeptical at my question.
"Dean, really, are you thinking about it? You said it was scaring you. Well it should scare you, because he can't do it!" My heart was thumping in my chest, all the pain and the fear, the instinctual need to protect Sam was so deeply ingrained in me that I could barely breathe at the thought of what Dean was saying.
The feelings of what it had been like to have a demon inside of me flooded back. The complete and utter lack of control I'd experienced was a nightmare that hadn't gone away to this day, I still woke up expecting my time as a hunter to be just a dream.
"You said we had a way for it to be over," I whispered. "Is this your way?"
Dean sighed, his hand stilling on my knee.
"Well, Dad and Bobby, they both managed."
"They got lucky Dean!" I pushed. "And in both cases you nearly died!"
"I know," he said, nodding.
"He can't do this," I shook my head. "He can't, he's not strong enough, he doesn't have … no, no he can't. This is exactly what Lucifer wants. We have to find another way."
Dean slipped his hand up to rest on my stomach, looking down at the unspoken knowing between us.
"Dean? What aren't you saying? Why aren't furious at this plan?"
"I don't know," he confessed, his eyes full of tears. "I just don't know Beth. It seems that no matter what I do there's no way for me to keep us all, my family, safe."
He pulled me close and I wrapped my arms around him as he buried his face into my hair and breathed in deeply.
"It's okay," I whispered. "It's gonna be okay Dean."
Beside us Dean's phone started to ring and he pulled away with a sigh, reaching into his pocket.
"Hello?"
"Cas?" He asked almost a second later. This caught my attention.
"Is he okay?" I asked, and Dean shrugged, turning the phone to speaker so we could both hear.
"We all thought you were Dead. Where the hell are you, man?" Dean asked.
"A hospital," came the reply.
"Are you okay?" I asked, leaning in toward the phone.
"Beth? Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. We've been worried about you."
I didn't remember what happened after Van Nuys, just that I disappeared from whatever reality we knew for a time, and then reappeared with Ezekiel, Sariel and Gabriel in a hotel surrounded by a bunch of gods hellbent on killing Lucifer or Michael before Armageddon started. They lost, and we'd lost Gabriel in the process. It was still very, very raw for me.
"Is Ezekiel still with you?"
"I… uh… I can't tell," I answered.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, we went after… well, it's a long story. But he was hit by a bolt of lightning from Odin. And, I haven't felt him since."
"Oh."
That didn't sound promising. I didn't have the heart to tell Cas over the phone that we also hadn't seen anything further of Sariel or Gabriel since they'd taken on their brother.
"Are you okay?" I asked after a moment of silence.
"…. No."
I exchanged a worried look with Dean who shrugged and then ran a hand across his face.
"You want to elaborate?" He asked.
"I just woke up here. The doctors were fairly surprised. They thought I was brain-dead."
"So… a hospital?" Dean asked.
"Apparently after Van Nuys, I suddenly appeared, bloody and unconscious, on a shrimping boat off Delacroix. I'm told it upset the sailors."
"Uh, well… I got to tell you, man... you're just in time. We figured out a way to pop Satan's box," Dean announced.
"How?"
"It's a long story, but, look ...tomorrow we're going after Pestilence. So if you want to zap over to Bobby's…"
"I can't 'zap' anywhere," Cas cut in, ending the sentence before it had started.
"Why?" I asked. "What's wrong?"
"You could say my batteries are - are drained," Cas said.
"What do you mean?" Dean asked. "You're out of angel mojo?"
"I'm saying that I am thirsty and my head aches. I have a bug bite that itches no matter how much I scratch it, and I'm saying that I'm just incredibly…" His voice tailed off at a lack of sufficient descriptors, and I bit my lip at the implications of what he was saying.
"Human," Dean finished for him, looking back at me. "Wow. Sorry."
"Well, my point is - I can't go anywhere without money for...an airplane ride. And food. And more pain medication, ideally." Cas continued.
"All right," Dean nodded. "Well, look, no worries. Uh, we're in Blue Earth, but just until the morning, I'll have Bobby wire you the cash."
"Dean, wait," Cas said before Dean could hang up on him. "You said "no" to Michael. I owe you an apology."
"Cas…" Dean said awkwardly, frowning a little. "I..it's okay."
"You are not the burnt and broken shell of a man that I believed you to be."
I smiled wryly at the sentiment. The angel meant well, but the way it came out was hard to hear.
"Thank you," Dean said after a moment. "I appreciate that."
I could see in the set of his shoulders that he felt deflated. He'd nearly given in to Michael, and the rest of us had chosen to skip past that discussion once he got his head on straight. But Cas, ever lacking in social protocols got straight to the nitty gritty and he didn't pull any punches… even when he was trying to be nice.
"You're welcome." Cas said as if he'd just done Dean a huge favour.
The Next Day - Early Evening
Serenity Valley Convalescent Home
Beth's POV
The plan was simple enough. Get to the hospice where Pestilence was, do some recognizance, and then go after him with everything we had until we were holding his ring in our hands and he was no more.
Why then did my gut feel like it had a 5lb stone sitting in it?
The home was quiet when we arrived. It was early evening, the minimal staff on duty, shift changes like clockwork. The minimal lights illuminated the entrances to the home, but beyond that it was darkness and nothing out of the ordinary. Beside me, Dean was peering through binoculars at the front entrance, yawning.
"So this is Dr. Evil's lair, huh?" He asked.
"It's kind of more depressing than evil," Sam commented from the back seat, peering through his own binoculars, looking at an orderly wheeling a man into the residence.
I was staring up at a second storey window, seeing an elderly man leaning on the window sill, looking out into the night. I couldn't imagine us ever landing in such a place - by choice or by circumstance. I supposed I'd never really considered that any of us would make it to old age, so this just wasn't on our cards. It was rare that a hunter reached retirement.
"It's like a four-colour brochure for Dying Young," Dean agreed. "Of course, to Pestilence, it's probably Dollywood in there."
"A lot of people to experiment on," I sighed.
"Great," Sam said. "A whole building full of people. We don't know who's human, who's demon, and who's Pestilence. So what do we do?"
We all stared at the building a little while longer, until suddenly Dean raised the binoculars to his eyes again, focusing on something at the front door, I tried to follow his line of thought.
"Hang on," he said. "You see that?"
"The camera?" I guessed, and he nodded.
"How much you want to bet they're all through that place?" He grinned as if he'd just had an epiphany, and I had to admit, he was right. Cameras had always been our allies in this work.
Inside it was easy enough to find the security room. Dean let himself in like he owned the place, and I could hear him talking with someone on the other side of the door. Sam and I waited, trying to look inconspicuous but reality was we were sticking out like a sore thumb in the sterile hallway, loitering by a doorway to an area we shouldn't be in.
"Hey. Hi. Uh, I'm looking for my Nana. Uh, her name is Eunice Kennedy," Dean said.
"Go around front and see the nurse."
Dean didn't listen, pushing further into the room. "You mind just helping me out, sir? Uh, she's about, uh, about that small and gray hair, wears diapers." The door closed behind him, and then there was the sound of a scuffle, followed by two bangs on the door.
I opened the door, letting Sam and I into the room as Dean moved to relocate the unconscious security guard from the floor into the corner.
"Eunice Kennedy?" Sam asked, shutting the door behind us.
"That's the beauty about improv, Sammy. You never know what's gonna come out of your mouth," Dean replied, dragging the guard and leaving him on the floor. I took a couple of cable ties and a gag, securing the poor unfortunate guard, and then stood up, taking in the screens in front of us.
"Okay," I said. "How long do you think this'll take?"
"Won't know til we get started," Dean shrugged, leaning on the desk and looking at the first couple of screens. It had been a while since we'd done any real stakeout work, but we were trained by John, and we knew how to wait.
An hour later, we were still sitting at the desk. Beside me, Dean was starting to drift off to sleep, a lack of sleep from the last few weeks catching up to him. I reached out to softly caress his cheek, and he startled awake, looking anxiously around the room.
"Huh? What?" He muttered, and then he threw me a chagrined look.
Sam scoffed, shaking his head. "This is so boring, what are… what are we even looking for?"
Dean sat up straight, frowning slightly. "Well, he's Pestilence, so he probably looks sick."
"Everyone looks sick," Sam sighed.
I couldn't say I disagreed. This was not a place of good health. All we'd seen for the past hour was patient after patient roaming the halls in varying degrees of dis-ease. They were in wheelchairs, on gurneys, walking of their own volition but with a saline drop attached, or a walker to assist them. The only healthy people around were the attendants, and they weren't giving us anything either. I focused in on yet another doctor as he moved along the corridor, tall, thin, balding… as I stared at the screen, I could have sworn my eyes were starting to play tricks on me, getting blurry. But when I blinked, it was still there. A distortion on the screen.
"Guys?"
I pointed, and they both leaned forward, nodding.
"Oh now we're talking," Dean said, his voice getting lighter and more excited as we followed a man from one screen to another, the distortion - a blurry field around his head - following with him. I hadn't been imagining it. I couldn't make out his face at all on the odd occasion that he did look at the camera. It was definitely an otherworldly being, and fair chance it was going to be Pestilence if Brady's info was any good.
"Come on, let's go," Dean decided, grabbing the shotgun which was loaded with salt. "Show time."
All the walls looked the same - a pucid brown that did not convey the idea of sterility in any form whatsoever, it made the corridors seem dark, like they were closing in. As we moved the air felt like it got thicker, it was harder to breathe and I couldn't tell whether it was panic, fear, or something to do with the monsters in residence. The corridors stretched on for yards more than they should. Beside me Sam moved effortlessly, focused on the task at hand, his brow furrowed in concentration. Instead of seeing him, all I could see was Lucifer in his body, just the same as we'd seen when we'd been zapped into the future.
Stop it! I told myself, shaking my head to get the images out of my head of Dean, dead, and myself not far behind.
We hid behind a corner, waiting for a nurse to wheel an elderly man into the elevator. It seemed like forever for the bell to toll and the doors to shut. Dean glanced around to make sure it was clear, and then nodded once, leading the way.
By the time we got down to the hallway that we'd seen Pestilence - or at least who we thought was him - it was becoming clear that we were on the right track. A doctor was grasping at the wall, vomit running down his face as he fell to his knees, and then leaned forward with another retching motion before collapsing on the floor.
Next to him, a nurse was already on the floor, her skin covered in spots, and she started to gasp for air as Sam leaned over and spat up blood.
"Sammy?" I asked with concern.
"Ugh," Sam muttered, wiping at his mouth with his sleeve. "Must be getting close."
"You think?" Dean asked, dropping down to his knees.
"Dean?" My voice was sharp, and too loud, as I grabbed at his arm, feeling him weigh heavily against me. Sam reached for us, trying to help, but stumbled into me with a force that caused me to stagger backwards, my grip on Dean released and he fell to the ground.
"Dean!" Sam said, whirling around. "Get up!"
A pretty young nurse opened the door to the room beside us, and walked out, smiling brightly with a mouthful of white pearly teeth. "The doctor will see you now," she announced. I frowned, pushing off the wall I was leaning against, where I had landed with Sam's clumsy actions.
I hurried back to Dean's side, trying to help him up, but he was slack in my grip. Sam pulled the demon knife on the woman, holding it out in front. He took a few steps into the dark room beyond before, with a squelching sound, he too fell to the floor.
Nausea hit my stomach like a freight train, however I was in better shape than the boys. I staggered to my feet in time to see the balding doctor sitting casually on the side of a bed where a woman lay dead. He looked at us all, a smile on his thin, emaciated lips.
"Sam. Dean. Beth," he said cheerfully. "Come right in."
I grabbed the knife out of Sam's hand, and stepped closer to Pestilence, waving it in front of me despite the need to vomit. Behind me, the nurse grabbed Dean by his arm, and dragged him into the room as he coughed up blood, finally letting him slump to the floor beside me.
"Hmmm," the horseman said thoughtfully. "Well you're looking a lot better than your brothers. They don't look well at all. It might be the, uh, Scarlet fever. Or, uh, the meningitis. Oh! Or the syphilis. That's no fun." He said with a shake of his head before turning to look at me with curiosity.
"But you, how are you even standing?"
I didn't have an answer for that, but I wasn't about to question it.
"You know why we're here," I said, advancing slowly on him.
Pestilence didn't look concerned at all, instead he circled his way toward Dean, despite my threatening stance.
On the floor, Dean and Sam writhed in pain, coughing up blood and spitting it out. I swallowed hard, forcing myself not to look at them - eyes forward, on the task - just like John had trained us. Kill the monster, then deal with the injured.
"Hmm," Pestilence said, finally breaking eye contact with me to lean down and speak to Dean.
"However you feel right now? It's gonna get so very, very much worse." He promised. "Questions?"
He paused as if we were going to actually ask. I weighted the knife in my hand, gauged what it was going to take to get closer to him and finish the job. I had no back-up, it was just me, and I was sorely outnumbered by Pestilence, let alone with what had to be another demon in that nurse.
"Disease gets a bad rap, don't you think?" Pestilence continued in his monologue, straightening up and smoothing out his suit. "For being filthy. Chaotic. Uh, but, really, t-that just describes people who get sick. Disease itself... Very...Pure...Single-minded. Bacteria have one purpose -divide and conquer."
The Horseman stepped to the side and crushed his foot on Dean's hand with a smile.
"That's why, in the end...It always wins," he continued. "So, you've got to wonder why God pours all his love into something so messy! And weak! It's ridiculous. All I can do is show him he's wrong, one epidemic at a time. Now... On a scale of 1 to 10, how's your pain?"
I heard the crunch, and Dean's groan, and I lunged for him. At the same time, the door to the room swung open hitting the wall with a resounding echo. I sucked in a sharp breath, expecting demons. But it was an angel. I froze in my downward swing. "Cas!" I called out.
"Cas!" Dean said simultaneously as the celestial being squared his shoulders, and looked around the room.
"How'd you get here?" Pestilence asked, for the first time seemingly surprised.
"I took a bus," Cas replied. "Don't worry, I…."
Cas didn't finish, instead he fell to the floor, coughing up blood.
"Well, look at that. An occupied vessel, but powerless. Oh, that's fascinating. There's not a speck of angel in you, is there?" Pestilence asked, leaning down to inspect the angel.
Cas glanced at me, and in that moment I knew why I wasn't affected like the others. He grabbed the Horseman's hand and used the last ounce of strength he had in him to slam Pestilence's hand down on a desk, earning a startled shout from the horseman.
"Maybe just a speck," Cas replied, looking at me. "And more in her."
I reacted on pure adrenaline, swiftly cutting off the man's ring and pinky fingers with the demon knife. The demon nurse attacked me, tackling me to the ground. I used the momentum to roll with her, bringing the knife around to stab it into her side. Gold light flickered instantly through her, and she gasped as a crackle of energy rippled through the body and then the life faded from her eyes.
"Oh!" Pestilence yelled in pain as Dean scrambled to his feet and grabbed the horseman's severed finger, still bearing a silver ring on it. Pestilence stumbled away from us, and glared at me, as if seeing something for the first time that he'd missed before.
"It doesn't matter," Pestilence muttered, "it's too late."
What he meant by that, we didn't know, and then he vanished - right in front of us.
Later
Bobby's House
Dean's POV
As soon as the ring had been separated from Pestilence we'd all made a recovery. Beth was the anomaly, and we'd soon come to the conclusion - even with Cas's very reduced abilities - that Ezekiel was alive inside of Beth, however clearly weakened. His angelic powers had protected her from Pestilence, unlike us, and that had given her the edge.
"Well," Bobby said as we tossed the ring on the desk in front of him. "It's nice to actually score a home run for once, ain't it?"
We looked at him skeptically, Sam shaking his head.
"What?" Bobby asked.
"Last thing Pestilence said. "it's too late."" Sam replied.
"He get specific?" Bobby asked.
"No," Sam said with a shake of his head.
"We're just a little freaked out that he might have left a bomb somewhere. So please tell us you have actual good news," I said, sinking down on the chair opposite the man.
"Chicago's about to be wiped off the map. Storm of the millennium. Sets off a daisy chain of natural disasters. Three million people are gonna die," Bobby said.
"Huh," I said thoughtfully. Well that would do it. I dropped my head down on to my arm which was laid across the back of the chair I was straddling. I groaned internally, feeling the weight of the day press upon me, I was so tired I could feel it into my very bones.
"I don't understand your definition of good news," Cas said from the archway leading into the kitchen.
"Well...Death, the horseman - he's gonna be there. And if we can stop him before he kick-starts this storm, get his ring back…" Bobby was speaking like we were just going to a ball game.
"Yeah, you make it sound so easy," I muttered. Truth was, we were in a world of trouble. This was Death. The others, perhaps they weren't as tough as their brother, but they hadn't been a walk in the park either. Death… he had a world of folklore and magic on top of everything.
"Hell, I'm just trying to put a spin on it," Bobby said.
Beth was looking a the maps, her keen eyes taking them all in, searching. I admired the way her face softened into the task. She bit her bottom lip softly as she frowned in concentration, chocolate ringlets framing her face as she leaned over the desk, bracing herself with her hands. Nothing had changed about her in over a decade, she was still the same wide-eyed, curious girl who'd come to join us after her father was killed. She was perfect.
"Bobby, how'd you put all this together anyway?" She asked, looking up finally, a slightly confused tone to her voice which I didn't miss.
"I had, you know… help." Bobby replied weakly.
Behind us a glass clinked in the kitchen. When I turned I saw a glass, whiskey being poured into it by someone I never expected to find in Bobby's house.
"Don't be so modest. I barely helped at all," Crowley said, taking the glass in with a smirk before sauntering through the archway into the library.
"Hello, boys. Girl. Pleasure, et cetera," Crowley said in his very Scottish accent, taking a whiff of the whiskey, pausing to blink and shake his head in distaste before discarding the glass on the side dresser.
" Go ahead. Tell them. There's no shame in it," Crowley said with a shrug, smiling at Bobby.
"Bobby?" Sam asked. "Tell us what?"
"World's gonna end," Bobby said with a shrug. "Seems stupid to get all precious over one little...soul."
"Soul?" Beth asked, looking sharply at him.
"You sold your soul?" I spluttered.
"Oh, more like pawned it," Crowley said. "I fully intend to give it back."
"Well, then give it back!" I snapped, my voice raising.
"I will," Crowley said.
"Now!" I yelled.
"Did you kiss him?" Sam asked randomly, throwing me for a six.
"Sam!" Beth gasped, frowning at him.
"Just wondering," Sam shrugged. We all paused, turning to look at Bobby who was sitting in his wheelchair, wearing the usual flannel shirt and cap, I couldn't imagine him actually … kissing… well anyone actually, let alone Crowley. Bobby was like a deer caught in the headlights, glancing from Sam and I to Beth.
"No!" Bobby said, maybe a little too forcefully. In response Crowley pulled out his phone, cleared his throat, and held up a picture of him and Bobby kissing.
I tilted my head, taking it all in, then glanced at Beth who was staring wide-mouthed at the phone.
"Why'd you take a picture?" Bobby asked.
"Why do you have to use tongue?" Crowley retorted.
Everyone turned to look at Bobby, who shifted uncomfortably.
Finally, I saw red.
"All right. You know what? I'm sick of this," I said, standing up and walking toward the demon. "Give him his soul back now."
"I'm sorry. I can't," Crowley replied.
"Can't or won't?"
"I won't, all right? It's insurance," he answered me.
"What are you talking about?" Beth asked, leaning on the table.
Crowley rolled his eyes like it was obvious. "You kill demons," he pointed out, then inclined his head at Sam. "Gigantor over there has a temper issue about it."
"But you won't kill me... As long as I have that soul in the deposit box." Crowley finished.
"You son of a bitch," Bobby sneered.
"I'll return it. After all this is over, and I can walk safely away... Do we all understand each other?" Crowley said, his voice growing louder and more determined.
I frowned. He was right, and I wasn't too proud to admit it. If it weren't for Bobby's soul I'd have been tempted to put a bullet through the demon's head at least three times in the five minute conversation we'd just had. He was smart, I'd give him that. We were going to have to tread carefully around this demon, bide our time, until we got Bobby's soul back.
Dean's POV
All things considered, I figured I was holding my temper pretty damn well. I'd put myself to work, trying to tidy up and organise the armory in the trunk. I couldn't remember the last time we'd had a good clean out. Suddenly it seemed like the most important task in the world.
Beth was sitting on the trunk of another car, phone in hand, lost in whatever she was reading. I was grateful for her company, and the fact that she wasn't trying to make conversation. Then again, we'd already said a lot of what was troubling us last night - I wasn't sure there was much more to add right in this moment.
I looked down at a box of ammunition and sighed, there simply wasn't enough room in this armory, it needed a whole going over. What was even the point of half this stuff? We hadn't hunted an honest to god monster in forever. Why keep the machetes, and the flame thrower? Hell, I couldn't remember the last time we'd even needed these silver bullets. Seemed all we dealt with anywhere were demons.
Beside me Sam came to lean against the car, sounding his usual melancholic sigh. Beth looked up curiously, my eyes darted and met hers, she shrugged and went back to her phone.
"Let me guess," I ventured, getting no input from her. "We're about to have a talk."
Sam chuckled, nodding.
"Look, Dean, um...For the record...I agree with you. About me. You think I'm too weak to take on Lucifer. Well, so do I. Believe me, I know exactly how screwed up I am."
This got Beth's attention again. She dropped to her feet, and moved closer, her hand coming to rest at my back - no different to how I used to do that to her all those years ago in our early training days - it was as if she was lending me her strength, and it helped.
Sam smiled at Beth, then continued. "You guys, Bobby, Cas...I'm the least of any of you..."
"Oh, Sam…" Beth sighed.
"No, it's true. It is," he insisted. I wasn't arguing.
"But…" Sam continued. "I'm also all we got. If there was another way...But I don't think there is. There's just me. So I don't know what else to do. Except just try t-to do what's got to be done."
"Annnnnnnd...Scene."
Behind us Crowley was watching the three of us. When he spoke, he waved his hand across his face as if he was on a theatrical stage and doing just what he said, ending the scene. Sam rolled his eyes, but stayed silent.
"There's something you need to see," Crowley said after a moment, handing a newspaper to Sam, who quickly scanned the contents on the page it was open to.
"Niveus pharmaceuticals is rushing delivery of its new swine-flu vaccine to "stem the tide of the unprecedented outbreak." Uh, shipments leave Wednesday." Sam said, looking up.
"Niveus pharmaceuticals. Get it?" Crowley asked, glancing at the three of us. I looked at Beth, but even she was drawing a blank look. After a moment, Crowley sighed, throwing his hands in the air.
"You lot are lucky you have your looks. Your demon lover, Brady? V.P. of distribution, Niveus."
Now that did ring a bell. The look I exchanged with Beth told me shewas making the connection as well.
"Ah, yes, that the sound of the abacus clacking? We all caught up?" Crowley said condescendingly.
"So Pestilence was spreading swine flu," Sam said.
"Yeah, but not just for giggles," I cut in. "That was step one. Step two is the vaccine." I stopped, nodding. It made sense. "And you think…"
"I know," Crowley cut in. "I'll stake my reputation. That vaccine is chock-full of grade-a, farm-fresh croatoan virus."
Beth let out a long breath, impressed. "Simultaneous, countrywide distribution. It's quite a plan."
"They don't get to be horsemen for nothing. So, you boys better stock up on...Well, everything. This time next Thursday, we'll all be living in zombieland." Crowley said.
I bit down on the inside of my lip, glancing at Beth. She was pregnant. In the future Zachariah had sent us to, we'd had a baby in the same zombieland Crowley was now talking about. Was history , if you could call a potential future that, about to occur… be created?
I didn't like the sound of it. Beth had died in that future, and I'd been left to raise our daughter alone. The man I'd become had become numb, cold hearted… broken. I glanced at Beth again and by the expression on her face, I could tell she was thinking the same thing. She smiled softly, her hand joining with mine and giving it a little squeeze.
I had the distinct impression that whether Sam could pull off his proposal to take on the devil or not, none of us were going to make it out of this alive.
Beth's POV
It hadn't taken long for the tension to get to everyone in the hours that we had to plan and execute the missions ahead of us. The sun had long set, we were working to a clock, it was dark, and had a long way to drive for either of the things that had to be done. I was already tired - the thought of an eight hour drive or longer didn't appeal in the slightest, even if Dean was going to do most of the driving.
I rounded the van, just in time to overhear a conversation between Bobby and Cas that was both amusing and heartbreaking at once.
"What's your problem?" Bobby asked as he loaded C4 into a duffel.
"This is what they mean by "the 11th hour," right?" Cas asked.
"Pretty much."
"Well, it's the 11th hour, and I am useless. All I have is this," Cas waved around a shotgun, sighing loudly. "What am I even supposed to do with it?"
Bobby paused, giving him a no nonsense look. "Point it and shoot," he replied.
Cas rolled his eyes and shook his head. "What I used to be…."
"Are you really gonna bitch... to me?" Bobby snapped, interrupting Cas' thoughts, the angel fell silent, as if ashamed of himself. Bobby wheeled himself closer to the van, his eyes never leaving Cas. "Quit pining for the varsity years…" He said, tossing the duffel which was caught quickly by the angel. "And load the damn truck."
Beside the van, Dean finished putting our supplies in the trunk and then slammed it shut, turning to look at our little brother nearby.
"All right, well...Good luck stopping the whole zombie apocalypse," he said.
Sam took a breath and nodded, glancing between the pair of us. "Yeah. Good luck killing Death."
"Yeah," Dean murmured, not sounding convinced.
"Remember when we used to just...hunt wendigos? How simple things were?" Sam asked, with a chuckle.
Dean smiled, shaking his head. "Not really," he replied with a grin.
Sam smiled. "Well, um…" he pulled out Ruby's knife from his waistband, handing it to me. "You might need this."
"Keep it," Crowley said, placing a small scythe in my hand instead. "They're covered. Death's own. Kills…. Golly, demons and angels and reapers and… rumour has it… the very thing itself."
"How did you get this?" I asked, looking in awe at the rather insignificant-looking rusted piece of metal.
"Hello…..king of the crossroads," he pointed out with a pleased grin. I couldn't help but be impressed by his hutzpah, the demon certainly had style, you couldn't fault that.
"So, shall we?" Crowley said after a moment, looking at Sam and Cas. "Bobby, you just gonna sit there?"
"No, I'm gonna Riverdance," the older man retorted.
"I suppose if you want to impress the ladies," Crowley said, looking amused at himself. I hesitated at the moment, frowning, and beside us Crowley shook his head.
"Bobby, Bobby, Bobby. Really wasted that crossroads deal. Fact: you get more if you phrase it properly. So, I took the liberty of adding a teeny little sub-A clause on your behalf. What can I say? I'm an altruist. Just gonna sit there?"
Bobby stared up at him in shock, but then his eyes dropped down to his legs. My heart was beating a mile a minute at what Crowley had implied in that simple sentence. Could it be real? And then Bobby's legged moved, and he pushed himself up and out of the wheelchair, looking down at his legs as he stood by himself.
"Son of a bitch," he said in surprise.
"Yes, I know. Completely worth your soul. I'm a hell of a guy," Crowley added.
"Thanks…" Bobby said.
Crowley shrugged. "This is getting maudlin. Can we go?"
Without waiting for an answer, he turned on his heel and rounded the Impala to the passenger side door.
9hrs later
Chicago
Beth's POV
With Dean behind the wheel, we'd made pretty good time. Of course, I think it'd been more the desire to get rid of Crowley, than wanting to actually get to Chicago and face what was waiting there for us. I had mixed emotions about being here. Chicago had always been one of our places - Sears Tower had been our first official date, and this was a stark reminder when I saw the spire against the skyline. Of course, we weren't here for a date, not this time.
We found ourselves in an industrial area, creeping in the Impala along the cement city. The area was deserted, but you wouldn't know that from the way Crowley was looking around. At an unseen gesture from the demon, Dean stopped the car and we all exited the vehicle.
The storm was already making an appearance, the wind kicking up around us, translucent pieces of plastic whirling past as we tightened our jackets and buried our hands in our pockets. Crowley started to lead us down an alley.
"Hey, let's stop for pizza," Crowley joked, grinning at us.
"Are you kidding?" Dean asked, glancing sideways at the ma.
"Just heard it was good. That's all." He shrugged, rounding a chainlink fence and nodding.
"Up ahead. Big, ugly building. Ground zero. Horseman's stable, if you will. He's in there." We were looking at a warehouse that had seen better days - a brick foundation and lower floor, painted white that looked more cream due to dirt. The upper floor was tin, and there were no windows, just one door at the front, loading bay to the side which was open.
Dean stared ahead, then asked, "how do you know?"
"Have you met me?" Crowley scoffed. "'cause I know. Also, the block is squirming with reapers."
The demon looked around at the empty yard before us, but unlike Dean and I, he seemed to be seeing something we couldn't. It wasn't the first time I'd heard that, reapers all over a city, and it was an image that haunted my nightmares.
"I'll be right back." Crowley said. Within seconds he was gone. Just as quickly Crowley returned, rematerialising behind us.
"Boy is my face red. Death's not in there," he said.
"You want to cut the cute and get to the part where you tell me where he is?" Dean scowled.
"Sorry," Crowley shrugged. "I don't know." He turned on his heel and started striding purposefully back toward the car.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a minute. You don't know?" Dean asked, rushing to overtake him and stop the demon from walking.
"Signs pointed," Crowley sighed. "I-I'm just as shocked as you."
"Bobby sold his soul for this!" I stuttered, starting to feel the panic that had been in Dean's voice.
"Relax," Crowley said dismissively. "All deals are soul back or store credit. We'll catch Death in the next doomed city."
"Millions, Crowley," Dean pointed out. "Millions of people are about to die any minute."
"True. So I strongly suggest we get out of here." Crowley strolled to the car, and we hurried after him.
"We can't just leave!" I said. "Dean we have to do something."
Dean was driving, steering us back toward the main streets, where there were people scurrying down the footpaths, their clothes being whipped around by the rising winds, and the promise of the storm approaching.
"So, what?" Dean asked, pulling into the curb and parking the car. "Call in a bomb threat? 1,000 bomb threats? I mean, how the hell am I supposed to get three million people out of Chicago in the next 10 minutes?"
Beside us Crowley vanished again and I sighed. "What the hell is going on here?"
"I dunno, but I swear to god if I don't start getting some answers out of him…"
"What is he doing?" I interrupted, pointing to where Crowley had reappeared across the street and was pointing to a pizza shop window.
"Oh come on!" Dean snapped, throwing his hands in the air. Crowley continued to gesture futilely at us.
"What?" Dean said, shrugging at the demon. "I can't hear you!"
"I said…" Crowley was back in the front seat. "I found him. Death… he's in there."
Dean looked at me, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes.
"I'm coming with you." I insisted and he nodded slowly. "I mean it Dean."
"Yeah, okay," he said, getting out of the car and waiting as I followed. He stood, staring across at the darkened windows and then leaned down to look in the open window of the car.
"You coming or…." he stopped short and stood up, rolling his eyes at me. "Or not."
Crowley had disappeared. We were on our own.
I handed the scythe to Dean and patted his hand.
"You know… it's not too late to just get in the car, head for Minnesota?" Dean said, a slightly hopeful tone to his voice.
"Mmm, I think we both know that's not true," I grinned, kissing his cheek.
"One can dream," he replied, turning to look at the shop across the road where it advertised a pizzeria, big black letters over an Italian flag.
"Neither of us have dreamt… or slept for that matter, in years," I sighed, feeling the heaviness of that statement weighing on my shoulders.
"True that," Dean agreed.
We both stood for a moment, silent, contemplating what was to come next.
"Taking you in there is my biggest nightmare," he said finally.
"Being left behind is mine."
Dean nodded in reply, the wind whipping through his hair, and causing me to brush my own out of my eyes. The storm was coming in, there was no telling how much longer we had before the full ferocity of it hit us, and destroyed the city. .
"Okay," he said. "Let's go."
Dean's POV
We entered the Pizzeria from the rear alleyway, the place seemed deserted, and it was only when we hit the kitchen did we realise it wasn't empty of people - just none of them were breathing. Beth had the demon knife, just in case, and I gripped the wooden handle of the scythe Crowley had given us in my right hand.
Moving in silent unison, we crept through the galley, stepping over bodies lying dead on the black and white checkered floor - no blood, no apparent wounds of any kind, just dead. Given who we were about to encounter, that didn't really surprise me.
It was all around us, the carnage, by the time we reached the main dining area. Bodies lay slumped in their chairs, heads lolling to the side or back, and flies buzzed around uneaten food on the tables. I grimaced, watched as Beth peeled off to the left, circling around the one person in the room who was seated upright and at attention.
He was tall, dressed in a black suit, Death was every bit the elegant walking destroyer you might expect him to be. I kept pace with Beth, approaching from the right, and just as I got within ten feet of the man, a sizzling heat shot through my hand, scorching in a way that I hadn't felt since…. Well, since Hell.
I dropped the scythe, it's red handle burning an imprint into my mind as it clattered against the floor.
"Thanks for returning that," Death said without even turning around. When I glanced up, the scythe was now on the red and white checkered tablecloth, resting next to the right hand of the Horseman. My blood ran cold, and I shared a look of consternation with Beth, who was now gripping the demon knife a little tighter and staring at Death.
"You won't be needing that," Death continued. "Join me, both of you. The pizza's delicious."
Beth questioned me without having to say a word, but honestly, what could we do? I shrugged my resignation at her, and walked around to face the man who was a little gaunt in the face, thinning hair slicked back over his head and tucked behind his ears. He was sitting at a table, a large Chicago deep dish pizza in a pan and a flickering candle in a red glass holder beside him as he sliced his way through one piece on a plate. It did look delicious, he wasn't wrong, my mouth was salivating just looking at it - but I couldn't show him that.
Beth was a little slower to join us, and when she did she slipped her hand into mine, squeezing. It seemed she'd tucked the knife back into her pants - I figured that was a fair call.
"Sit down," Death invited. I saw Beth bite her lip, she was nervous, but there was nothing more to be done. We'd lost the element of surprise, now we had to let this play out. I pulled out the chair before us and motioned for Beth to sit, and then grabbed the one at the table behind us for me.
"Took you long enough to find me. I've been wanting to talk to you," Death said, cutting a piece of his pizza with a knife and fork, then munching thoughtfully on it.
"I gotta say…" I started, swallowing hard, "I have mixed feelings about that. S-so is this the part where...where you kill us?"
Outside thunder and lightning rattled the windows, and I could feel the cold press of the storm bearing down on us. Death stopped eating and straighted in his seat, meeting my eyes with dark brown pits of indifference.
"You have an inflated sense of your importance," he said with even tones. "To a thing like me, a thing like you, well…" he reached out and picked up his soda, slurping loudly from the straw before continuing.
"Think how you'd feel if a bacterium sat at your table and started to get snarky. This is one little planet in one tiny solar system in a galaxy that's barely out of its diapers. I'm old, Dean. Very old. So I invite you to contemplate how insignificant I find you."
He reached out and took a pizza slide, picking up a piece from the tray beside us and placing it on the white plate in front of me.
"Eat," he invited again.
I exchanged a look with Beth who shrugged. I forced my hands to be steady, years of training coming to my rescue in that moment, slicing a bite for Beth and holding it out. She took it between her teeth and slid the piece into her mouth, and I followed suit.
My senses were instantly hit with the perfect blend of a well cooked pizza base coupled with cheese, meat and olives. It was delicious!
"Good, isn't it?" Death asked, looking pleased. Beth nodded beside me, and I smiled a little, not sure whether I liked this guy or not.
"Well, I got to ask. How old are you?" I said around the mouthful of food while Death started picking at his food again.
"As old as God. Maybe older. Neither of us can remember anymore. Life, death, chicken, egg. Regardless - at the end, I'll reap him, too."
"God?" Beth scoffed. "You'll reap God?" I noticed that her hand went to touch the beads of her rosary that was tucked under her shirt. She still believed, even after all this, it was astounding.
"Oh, yes. God will die, too, my dear." Death nodded, looking up at her. Beth glanced at me, clearly unsettled by what the Horseman had said. The idea that God even existed…. I was still coming to terms with that. I had been kind of convinced that he was dead in a ditch somewhere, or just… gone, like the angels thought was the case. Now I ahd to contend with Death being His reaper.
"Well, this is way above my pay grade." I finally stuttered.
"Just a bit," Death agreed, smiling at the corner of his mouth.
"So, then why are we still breathing, sitting here with you? Uh...w-what do you want?" I asked.
"The leash around my neck -off," Death replied. "Lucifer has me bound to him. Some unseemly little spell. He has me where he wants, when he wants. That's why I couldn't go to you. I had to wait for you to catch up. He made me his weapon. Hurricanes, floods, raising the dead. I'm more powerful than you can process, and I'm enslaved to a bratty child with a temper tantrum."
"And you think...I can unbind you?" It seemed like a ridiculous plan.
"There's your ridiculous bravado again," Death said dismissively, shaking his head. "Of course you can't. But you can help me take the bullets out of Lucifer's gun."
He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table and raising his hand up, showing a thick silver men's ring with a white stone in the setting on his right hand.
" I understand you want this."
I swallowed. It was so close! I could practically sense Beth trying to figure out how to get at him with the knife.
"Yeah," I said, nodding.
"I'm inclined to give it to you."
"Give it to me?" I scoffed.
"That's what I said."
"But what about…..?" My voice trailed off, looking around the room we were seated in, out the window at the lightning flashing.
"Chicago?" Death asked. I nodded, no further words.
"I suppose it can stay," he replied. "I like the pizza."
And just like that he pulled the ring from his finger, holding it out to Beth.
"There are conditions," he said, looking at me.
"Okay. Like?"
"You have to do whatever it takes to put Lucifer in his cell," he replied.
"Of course," I said.
"Whatever it takes," he reiterated. I glanced at Beth, frowning a little.
"That's the plan."
"No. No plan. Not yet," Death disagreed. "Your brother. He's the one that can stop Lucifer. The only one."
It quickly dawned on me what he was saying. It was the same thing that we'd all been discussing, something that I still had reservations about but was beginning to think might actually work.
"You think -"
"I know," Death cut in. "So, I need a promise. You're going to let your brother jump right into that fiery pit. Well, do I have your word?"
"Okay, yeah. Yes."
"Not you, Dean," Death said, his eyes cutting left. "Her."
"Me?" Beth asked, surprised.
"Yes, you. He has already been considering it, you know this. But you, you're the one who has bailed Sam out of death more times than I can count, Beth."
"I...I made a promise," she stuttered, looking at me, tears in her eyes. I frowned. Death was right. When Sam had died, in Azazel's original plan, Lucifer's big escape plan…. It was Beth who made the deal with the crossroads demon to bring him back.
"And you're going to break it," Death said. "It has to be Sam."
Beth shook her head, and I reached out to squeeze her hand.
"You want Minnesota?" Death asked, looking at her. "Your quiet existence without the threat of Hell on Earth, or angels stealing your husband? That's the way, the only way."
She stared at him, and I just wanted to take her in my arms and whisper it was going to be okay. But it wasn't. If we made this promise, it was never going to be okay ever again.
"So what is it?" Death asked.
"Yes," Beth said, holding her hand out for the ring.
"Dean?"
"Okay yeah. Yes." I said, nodding.
"That had better be "yes," Dean." He said. "You know you can't cheat Death."
He simultaneously dropped the ring into Beth's outstretched hand and looked intently at her.
"Now, would you like the instruction manual?"
Bobby's House
Sioux Falls
Beth's POV
Dean had disappeared outside half an hour earlier. He'd been silent for most of the trip back from Chicago. We'd stopped in Blue Earth along the way, enough time to eat and get some sleep in our own bed. The whole time we hadn't talked about what had happened in Chicago: what we'd promised Death.
It weighed upon me like a wet blanket, cold and suffocating, and I found myself praying more than usual, lost in the words that were a comfort because of their familiarity and the routine, yet I had to admit were likely falling on deaf ears. No one was coming to save us, and once again, our family was going to pay the ultimate sacrifice for that.
I thought about years gone, when we had been young, and stupid: naive to the greater scheme of Angels vs. Demons, Michael vs. Lucifer. How would things be different if I'd just left well enough alone when Sam had been killed?
I twisted the tops off two beers and stared down at the brown bottles, biting my lip. I hadn't been able to let Sam go then, could I do it now? Picking up the bottles I exited through the kitchen door and down the wooden steps into the car yard. Dean wasn't far, seated at the bench in the workshop, the Impala nearby where he'd been giving it an oil change.
As I approached, he looked lifted his head and pushed a smile up from beneath the troubled look that had been on his face.
"Hey," I smiled, putting the beer in front of him and taking a sip of my own. I hadn't had a drink since I'd found out I was pregnant, but I really needed at least a couple of gulps of alcohol today.
"Hey," he replied. He reached out a hand and took mine, pulling me in against him and sliding his arm around my waist.
"You okay?" I asked, reaching up to brush my fingers through his hair, caressing along his face as I looked into his troubled eyes.
"No," he said, shaking his head. "No, not really."
Before I could say anything, Dean glanced behind me and nodded at Bobby who had followed us out. Normally he would pull away, old habits from being around John when we first got together, but today was far from ordinary, and Dean's hand stayed firmly placed on my hip, holding me close.
"Well, how'd it go at the Rockettes audition?" He asked as Bobby stood opposite us, shrugging at the question.
"Well, high kicks - fair. Boobs need work." His face was deadpan, not even a hint of smile, which made me chuckle, and Dean too.
"I walked up and down stairs all night for no damn reason. I'm sore," Bobby snickered, shaking his head at himself. "Feels so good, I'm scared it's a dream. But then I remember that the world's dying bloody, so, let's drink?" Bobby held his own beer up, and we all took a sip.
"Check it out," Dean said after a moment.
He placed the rings from the horseman in front of us on the table, and moved Death's to the centre of the other three. They started to shake as if drawn together by magnets, until finally the three rings snapped on to Death's ring forming an amulet.
"Hmm," Bobby huffed, looking down. "So Death told you how to operate those? The whole deal?"
"Yeah. It's nuts," Dean replied. "Of course, I got bigger problems now."
"Really?" Bobby asked. "Like?"
Dean took another sip of his beer, his hand twitching slightly at my waist giving away his distress. He swallowed and then put the beer back on the table, staring at it.
"What do you think Death does to people who lie to his face?" He asked.
"Nothing good," Bobby replied, frowning.
Dean's eyes lifted to glance at me, his brow furrowing. "Yeah…" In that moment we silently acknowledged what neither of us had been able to voice to this point.
"What'd you say?" Bobby asked.
"Not him," I replied, biting my lip. "Me."
"Us," Dean cut in. "We said we were cool with Sam driving the bus on the whole Lucifer plan."
"So Death thinks Sam ought to say yes, huh?"
"I don't know. Yeah," Dean shrugged.
"Hmmm," said Bobby.
"But, I mean, of course he'd say that. He works for Lucifer," Dean argued. I admittedly didn't doubt Death, even when Dean said this, and that's what made it worse.
"Against his will, I thought he said," Bobby pointed out, taking the other seat and leaning on the table, looking down at the interlinked rings.
"Well, I'd say, take his sob story with a fat grain of salt. I mean, he is Death." Dean said.
"Exactly," Bobby replied. "He's Death. Think of the kind of bird's-eye view."
"Seriously?" Dean asked.
"I'm just saying…"
"Well, don't!" Dean interrupted. For the first time I looked at him and I saw that he was struggling with this as much as I was. Of course he was, I berated myself, it's his brother. But the words from years earlier echoed in my mind from when I'd sold my soul to bring Sam back to life, words that Dean had burned into my head. That he wouldn't have done it, he would have left well enough alone.
"Bobby, what happened to you being against this?" I asked, looking over at the man.
"Look, I'm not saying Sam ain't an ass-full of character defects. But…" Bobby hesitated, looking back at the house which was quiet, no sign of Sam overhearing.
"But what?" Dean questioned.
"Back at Niveus? In the middle of that Croatoan virus outbreak in the warehouse? I watched that kid pull one civilian out after another. Must have saved ten people. Never stopped. Never slowed down."
Dean and I both glanced at each other. We'd been filled in earlier by the others as to the mission they'd accomplished while we'd been hunting Death in Chicago. When they'd gotten to Niveus' warehouse with enough C4 to blow it sky high, they'd nearly missed the first shipment, despite thinking they'd have plenty of time.
They'd managed to stop the truck from leaving, but in doing so alerted the demons on the ground to their presence, losing the element of surprise. The demons had infected some of the human warehouse workers, and a fight had ensued of both demons and croatoans alike.
It was the stuff of nightmares, ever since Dean and I had been zapped to the future by Zachariah in a bid to convince us to give in to Michael, let him take Dean as a vessel. We'd seen a world overrun by zombies, people infected with the Croatoan virus, and it was a world that had barely been world surviving. I shuddered at the thought, and beside me Dean squeezed me reassuringly.
"We're hard on him, Dean. We've always been. But in the meantime... He's been running into burning buildings since he was, what, twelve?" Bobby continued.
"Pretty much," Dean conceded.
"Look, Sam's got a...darkness in him. I'm not saying he don't. But he's got a hell of a lot of good in him, too." Bobby said.
"I know," Dean nodded.
"Of course we know that," I said, "why do you think we fight so hard for him?"
"Then you know Sam will beat the Devil...or die trying. That's the best we could ask for. So I got to ask, baby girl. What exactly are you afraid of? Losing? Or losing your brother?"
I swallowed hard.
Beside me, Dean remained silent, staring at the rings.
There really was nothing more to say.
Author's Notes
Hello! Sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter written. I struggled with it a bit, and life in general has been busy. I hope you enjoyed the little Dean and Beth moments away from the madness, they're going to be key in the next few chapters as we begin the downward spiral into the end of Season 5.
The song for this chapter is Into The Nothing by Breaking Benjamin.
Thank you to everyone who has written and encouraged me to keep going with this series while I've been struggling to get it written. It really does help, and I appreciate the feedback given when asked for - I love this story and our wonderful couple, so getting the story right is important to me!
Please leave a review or drop me a PM with your feedback, I love to hear your thoughts!