Night had fallen in Muncie, Indiana. The sky brewed with storm clouds, and rain trickled down in gentle sheets. A security guard pulled up in front of an old, broken down hotel, once known as Elysian Fields. He unlocked the doors and stepped inside, turning his flashlight on. He checked up on the place every month, making sure there were no people living inside or something. Wood creaked.
He frowned and moved forward. "Hello?"
As he rounded the corner, a flower sprouted from a chipped vase.
Something clanged behind him. He whirled around, training his light on the source. A mirror on the wall crackled. He turned and gasped.
A man stood before him. He was dressed in a crisp red suit, and his hair was styled in an expert fashion. His lips twitched into a smile.
"Hiya," he greeted.
"Buddy, you can't be here," the guard insisted, startled by his sudden appearance.
"Course I can," he replied. "Someone's got to get everything ready. They're coming - all of them. And we've each got our part to play." He took a step closer. "Even you."
"What?"
"You're dinner," he explained. Lightning fast, he grabbed the man by his collar.
Blood splattered the walls.
Thunder crashed. Water poured down in buckets from the sky, dripping off of the neon blue letters that spelled out 'The Elysian Fields Hotel'. Sam and Dean Winchester parked in front and ran inside, getting soaked in the process. They stumbled into the hotel, shivering and wet.
Shaking their heads and panting, the brothers glanced around the lobby. Neon blue seemed to be a theme here; the color lit up every sign and light fixture. People milled around, lounging on plush white couches and chatting at the bar. Logs crackled in the fireplace. Gentle music played in the background.
Dean grinned. "Nice digs, for once," he remarked.
They approached the manager at the front desk. He wore a sleek maroon tuxedo and a black bowtie, and his nametag read 'Chet'. His fingers flew over the keyboard, faster than they could see. He glanced up at them with a smile that could cut glass, and turned back to his work.
"Busy night," Dean commented.
"Any port in a storm, I guess," Chet replied easily. He pushed the guest log in front of them. "If you could just fill this out, please." He tilted his head, spotting something on Dean's neck. "Sir, I think you got a little... shaving nick there." He handed Dean a napkin.
Frowning, Dean dabbed his neck. The paper came away bloody.
Chet held up their room keys, which jingled. "Your key."
"Oh, thanks," Dean said, taking the keys from him. "Hey, you wouldn't happen to have a coffee shop, would you?"
"Buffet. All you can eat," Chet answered, gesturing. He leaned forward with a conspiratorial smile. "Best pie in the tri-state area."
"You don't say?" Dean said, grinning. He walked over to said buffet, grabbing two plates of pie and inspecting them.
"Heaven, right?" another guest commented.
"Trust me, pal. Better." As he headed back to the table where he'd left Sam, he saw a woman sitting alone, stirring a glass. He paused beside her. "How you doing?"
"No," she said. Her stony expression matched her voice.
"But-"
"No."
"Oh, lady, I'm just," Dean tried to backpedal. "You know-"
"I understand," she replied. Her lips were a deep red, her dark hair tumbling over her shoulders as she stared at him, uninterested. "And no."
"10-4. Yeah." Dean offered an awkward smile and hurried off.
Sam was sitting at the table, his food untouched and eyes fixed on his phone screen.
"Sam, unpucker, man," Dean told him. "Eat something."
"We should hit the road, Dean," Sam replied.
"In this storm? What i-it's-"
"It's Biblical, exactly," Sam said. He scowled at Dean's plate. "It's friggin' Noah's Ark out there, and we're eating pie."
A pause. "How many hours of sleep did you get this week? What, three? Four?" Sam looked away. "Bobby's got his feelers out, okay? We have talked with every hoodoo man and root woman in twelve states."
"Yeah, well, I'm not giving up."
"Nobody's giving up," Dean assured him. "Especially me. We're gonna find a way to beat the Devil, okay? Soon. I can feel it. And we will find Cas, and we'll find Adam, but you are no good to me burnt out."
Sam sighed and nodded a bit. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."
"Come on, we've actually got the night off for once. Let's try to enjoy it."
When they headed to their room, they witnessed a couple in the hallway, kissing passionately and giggling. They laughed as they stumbled back into a room and closed the door.
"Oh, what are you, twelve?" Sam muttered, as Dean grinned at them.
"I'm young at heart," Dean said.
Their room was nicer than anything they'd stayed at before. The curtains were drawn halfway closed, and a few sleek white lanterns illuminated the space. There was a table in the corner with two chairs tucked under it, and the beds were king-sized with deep crimson blankets.
Dean whistled. "Wow, look at this," he remarked. He tossed his stuff on one bed. "We're like Rockefellers. Chocolates!" He grabbed his from off the pillow. "You want yours?"
Sam shook his head. "Knock yourself out."
"Whoa." Dean picked up something else from the nightstand. "'Casa Erotica 13', on demand."
A heavy sigh and a scoff escaped Sam.
"What?"
"Isn't this place kind of... in the middle of nowhere?" Sam asked, frowning.
"So?"
"So, what's a four-star hotel doing on a no-star highway?"
Dean shrugged. Through the wall, sounds that should not be described could be heard, causing Dean to grin and Sam to sigh.
Suddenly, there was a crashing noise. The lantern wobbled, and the TV on the wall trembled. Exchanging a glance, the brothers rushed out into the hallway and entered the room beside theirs.
Empty.
The lights were shut off, the sheets were abandoned, and everything was quiet.
"Hello?" Sam called.
Silence. Dean knelt down and scooped something from the floor.
A shiny, glittering engagement ring, with no owner.
"The, uh, the room next to ours- the couple that are, uh, joined at the lips -have you seen them?" Dean asked the manager.
"Mr. and Mrs. Logan - the honeymooners?" Chet inquired. His fingers blurred over the keys. "They checked out." At their expressions, he continued, "is something the matter?"
"They checked out?" Sam asked in disbelief.
"Mm-hm. Just now."
"Really?" Sam stared at him. "It sorta seemed like they were, um... in the middle of something."
Chet shrugged.
"Yeah, it's kind of weird to for honeymooners to, uh, check out without this." Dean held up the ring.
"Oh, dear," Chet murmured. He plucked the ring from Dean's fingers and tucked it away. "I'll just put that right in the lost and found. Don't you worry." He smiled charmingly. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"
"Uh, no. No, we're good," Dean replied.
"Super fantastic," Chet said. His eyes flicked to Sam, then back to Dean. A strange silence fell over them, until Chet turned back to his work and the brothers stepped away.
"Creepy," Sam muttered.
"Broke the needle," Dean said. "Alright, well, I'll scope out the joint and you keep an eye on Norman Bates over here."
Sam sighed.
"I mean, one night off," Dean grumbled. "Is that too much to ask?"
As soon as Chet walked away from his desk, Sam headed after him, trying to not look too obvious. He set off at a brisk pace, one that Sam had difficulty matching. When he turned the corner, Sam jogged to catch up, only to discover he was gone. A vending machine marked the dead end, and the other hallway was empty. No one moved that fast.
Something pinched his neck. He winced and touched his skin, frowning as his fingers came away bloody.
Meanwhile, Dean took the elevator up a flight. He pulled out his EMF detector and strolled down the hallway, listening to it whiz and trill. As he walked by a room, a hulking grey shape filled his peripheral, and the EMF buzzed loudly.
Dean paused, backpedaled. Glancing inside the room, he saw only a dark-skinned man with a towel wrapped around his waist.
"This ain't no peep show, man!" the guy snapped, slamming the door in Dean's face.
Dean blinked.
A tall man wound a necklace around a woman's neck. "You're beautiful," he told her.
"You're sweet." She released the grip on her hair, letting it tumble over her shoulders in graceful waves. He kissed her neck. "I hate sweet."
Someone coughed. "Sorry to interrupt," Chet said. "The last guest just arrived."
"So everything's ready?" the other man asked.
"As it will ever be." Chet smirked. "Pantry's full."
"And the Winchesters?" the woman questioned.
"Suspicious, but under control," Chet replied,
"You have their blood?"
"Of course I do." Chet appeared in front of her, having moved faster than the eye could process. He held up two vials of blood, which she took. "I'm quick. Boys never even knew what hit them."
"Thank you, Mercury," the woman said.
Chet- no, Mercury, smiled.
"Okay," the other man said. "Let's get this show on the road."
"An elephant?" Sam questioned.
The brothers walked into the lobby, where the manager was strangely absent.
"Yeah," Dean replied.
"Like, an elephant?" Sam repeated.
"Like, full-on Babar," Dean confirmed.
"So what the hell…" Sam trailed off.
The lobby was empty. Every guest was gone, all the couples chatting by the fire, vanished.
"Where is everybody?" Sam asked. Looking more nervous by the second, he went over to the front doors and tugged at the handles.
"Let me guess," Dean groaned. "It's locked. So what, the roaches check in, they don't check out?"
"Think about how we got here," Sam muttered, eyebrows furrowed. "That detour, on I-09? The friggin' hurricane?"
"You saying we were led here?"
"Like rats in a maze."
Deciding that standing around wouldn't do any good, they broke into the kitchens to investigate. There were no chefs, nobody working. It was peculiar for a hotel filled with guests just a moment ago. As they walked around the corner, they spotted a pot on the stove, bubbling with dark red liquid.
"Please be tomato soup," Dean prayed. He picked up the ladle and stirred it a bit. "Please be tomato soup."
A stray eyeball floated to the top.
The brother grimaced and turned away.
"Motel Hell," Dean mumbled.
Then Sam caught sight of a door. Built into the wall where it shouldn't be, with a padlock securing it. He approached the door, wary of the contents after the bloody soup they'd just seen.
He leaned down to peer inside.
A hand slammed against the window. Sam gasped.
"Help us! Get us out!" a man cried within. Several other people began to shout inside the room, banging on the door.
Sam yanked at the handle. He dug into his pockets and fumbled for his lockpick.
"Hurry up!" Dean urged.
"I'm going as fast as I-" Sam looked up and faltered. "As I can."
Dean scowled. "There's somebody behind me, isn't there?"
Two men dragged the brothers from the kitchen, struggling the whole time, until shoving them into a large dining area and locking the doors. The room was named 'Grand Ballroom', which most likely shouldn't exist in a four-star hotel like this.
A group of people stood inside. They wandered around the tables, chatting and drinking, and each wore a nametag. Included was the Indian woman from earlier, and the desk manager.
Sam scanned the tags, recalling what each one meant.
Ganesh. An elephant-headed deity in Hinduism.
Odin. The king of Asgard in Norse mythology.
Kali. A many-armed goddess in Hindu/Buddhist myths known as the Destroyer.
Baron Samedi. A Haitian spirit who ruled over death.
"Something tells me this isn't a Shriner convention," Dean muttered.
From around a corner, the desk manager wheeled out a tray of delicacies. His nametag read 'Mercury'. Roman god of thieves, communication, and travels. He stood straight, then plucked the lid from the tray. "Dinner is served."
A severed head lay in the center, roasted and scorched with its eyes wide open. The gods applauded.
Suddenly a spotlight landed on the brothers, blinding them.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Baldur spoke. Son of Odin, god of purity and warmth. "Our guests of honor have arrived." He tapped his wine glass, causing the others to settle down. Each god took a seat at the table. "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming. Well, in all my centuries, I never thought I'd see this."
Sam and Dean took a seat also, separate from the gods and facing inwards, so they couldn't communicate well without being spotted.
"This many gods, under one roof," Baldur continued, looking quite proud.
"Gods?" Sam whispered out of the corner of his mouth. The brothers exchanged a glance.
"Before we get down to brass tacks, some ground rules: No slaughtering each other. Curb your wrath. Oh, and, keep your hands off the local virgins. We're trying to keep a low profile here."
"Oh, we are so, so screwed," Sam whispered.
"Now, we all know why we're here," Baldur said. "The Judeo-Christian Apocalypse looms over us. I know we've all had our little disagreements in the past, but the time has come to put those aside and look toward the future. Cause if we don't, we won't have one."
The gods began to scowl, shaking their heads.
"Now, we do have two very valuable bargaining chips-" Baldur pointed to the brothers. All gazes turned to them. "Michael and Lucifer's vessels. The question is - what do we do now? Anybody have any bright ideas, speak up. This is a safe room."
One god, whose nametag read 'Zao Shen' rose to his feet. He spoke in rapid-fire Mandarin, waving his arms to emphasize his point. "我们做什么? 我们杀了他们." What do we do? We kill them.
"Oh, I don't like his tone," Dean mumbled.
"Kill them?" another god scoffed. "Why? So the angels here can bring them back again?"
"I don't know what everybody's getting so worked up about," Odin drawled. He leaned back in his seat. "This is just a couple of angels having a slap fight. It's no Armageddon. Everybody knows, when the world comes to an end, the Great Serpent Jormungandr rises up, and I, myself, will be eaten by a big wolf."
Zao Shen huffed and muttered, "开始了..." Here we go.
"Oh yeah?" Odin challenged. "And why is that? Because your beliefs are so much more realistic? The whole world's getting carried around on the back of giant turtle. Give me a break."
"不要嘲笑我的世界龟," Zao Shen spat. Don't mock my world turtle.
"What are you gonna do about it?" Odin growled, rising from his seat.
Face contorted, Zao Shen jabbed his finger at the other and snapped, "我打算送你去打包 Valhalla!" I'm gonna send you packing to Valhalla!
"Watch your mouth when you talk to me, boy!"
"男孩? 我比你大." Boy? I'm older than you.
"No one's ever proved that."
While they argued, Sam and Dean slowly got to their feet, inching towards the doorway, when the chandelier collapsed in front of them with a crash. The gods fell silent, glancing over at them.
"Stay," Kali ordered. She rose to her full height, bronze skin gleaming under the lamplight. Her appearance was utterly alluring, captivating, dangerous. "We have to fight. The archangels - the only thing they understand is violence. This ends in blood. There is no other way. It's them, or us."
"With all due respect, ma'am," Mercury spoke up. He sounded tentative, his earlier confidence absent. "We haven't even tried talking to them."
Kali tilted her head, aiming a dark glare in his direction.
Mercury choked. He reached up for his collar and tugged at it, gagging on something invisible. He bent forward, blood dribbling from his lips.
"Kali," Baldur interrupted.
Mercury sucked in a breath, panting.
"Who asked you?" Kali inquired.
Trembling, Mercury bowed his head and wiped the blood from his lips.
"Can't we all just get along?" The doors swung open with a bang, and in strolled a familiar face.
Gabriel spread his arms wide, expression that of a scolding parent.
"Gabr-" Sam started, but Gabriel discreetly flicked his fingers, and the brothers fell silent.
The archangel tutted. "Sam. Dean. It's always wrong place, worst time with you muttonheads, huh?"
"Loki," Baldur growled.
Gabriel's stare snapped to him. "Baldur," he greeted. "Good seeing you, too. I guess my invitation got lost in the mail."
"Why are you here?" Baldur demanded.
"To talk about the elephant in the room." As Ganesh began to stand, Gabriel added, "not you. The Apocalypse. We can't stop it, gang." His eyes roamed over Mercury, with his red-stained lips and terrified expression. "But first things first." He wheeled around to face the brothers. "The adults need to have a little conversation. Check you later."
He snapped his fingers.
The brothers appeared in an empty hotel room. They both stood there for a moment, shocked.
"Okay," Dean breathed. "Did that… holy crap."
"Yeah, tell me about," Sam replied, equally shook up. "By the way, next time I say 'let's keep driving', uh, let's keep driving."
"Okay, yeah. Next time."
"Uh, alright, so what's our next move?"
Dean scratched his head, chuckling humorlessly. "I-I-I don't know. We grab those poor saps out of the freezer, I guess - bust 'em out. Gank a few freaks along the way if we're lucky."
"And when are you ever lucky?" Gabriel drawled. He lounged in a chair beside the door, smirking.
"Oh, you know what?" Dean snapped. "Bite me, Gabriel."
"Maybe later, big boy."
"I should have known," Dean continued. "I mean, this had your stink all over it from the jump."
"You think I'm behind this? Please." Gabriel hopped to his feet. "I'm the Costner to your Houston. I'm here to save your ass."
"You want to pull us out the fire?" Dean questioned.
"Bingo." Gabriel sobered. "Those gods are either gonna dust you or use you as bait. Either way, you're uber-boned."
"Wow, cause a couple of months ago, you were telling us that we need to play our roles." Dean narrowed his eyes. "You were uber-boning us."
"Ooh, the end is still nigh." Gabriel slipped by them. "Michael and Lucifer are gonna dance the lambada. But not tonight. Not here."
Dean glanced over at Sam, then back at the archangel. "And why do you care?"
"I don't. Care." Gabriel looked away from Dean's probing stare. "But... me and Kali, we, uh... had a thing. Chick was all hands. What can I say? I'm sentimental."
"Do they have a chance?" Sam asked. "Against Satan?"
"Really, Sam?" Dean said.
"You got a better idea, Dean?" Sam shot back.
"It's a bad idea," Gabriel countered. "Lucifer's gonna turn them into finger paint. So let's get going while the going's good."
"Okay, great. Why don't you just zap us out of here, then?" Dean asked.
"Would if I could. But Kali's gotcha by the short and curlies." At their questioning looks, he clarified, "it's a blood spell. You boys are on a leash."
"What does that mean?"
"Means it's time for a little of the old black magic." Gabriel conjured up a bottle and sprayed it into his mouth, like a bad sitcom.
"Okay. Well, we're gonna take the hors d'oeuvres in the freezer with us."
"Forget it," Gabriel argued. "It's gonna be hard enough sneaking you mooks outta here."
"They called you Loki, right?" Dean asked, realizing something. "Which means they don't really know who you are."
"Told you - I'm in witness protection."
"Well, then how about you do what we say-" Dean threatened, "-or we tell the uh, the Legion of Doom about your secret identity? They don't seem like a real pro-angel type of crowd."
"I'll take your voices away," Gabriel retorted.
"We'll write it down."
"I'll cut off your hands."
"Then people are gonna be asking, 'why are you guys running around with no hands?'" Dean raised an eyebrow, waiting for the next clever reply.
It never came. "Fine."
Kali stood in front of a mirror. She slipped off her red top, revealing a multitude of jewelry and other fine metals adorning her wrists and neck. As she reached up to comb her hands through her hair, the lights went out.
Two candles lit up on the table, now covered in delicacies. Gabriel stood beside it, a rose held gently in one hand.
"Bonjour, mon amour," Gabriel drawled.
"Leave," Kali replied shortly.
"You always did play hard to get."
"I've moved on," she told him.
"I noticed. Baldur? Really?"
Kali turned back to the mirror, where she could still keep an eye on him. "Baldur's uncomplicated."
Meanwhile, Sam and Dean walked into the lobby, heading for the kitchen, when screaming reached their ears. Several gods were dragging a crying man between them. The brothers ducked behind a wall.
They grabbed him and set him on the front desk, swiping stuff out of the way as they went.
"No! No, stop!" the man shrieked. He locked eyes with Dean.
Dean moved to help, but Sam yanked him back. "It's too late," Sam hissed.
The gods restrained him, each taking an arm or leg. The man wailed. A butcher knife glinted.
They chopped his head off, silencing his screams.
"I never took you for the type."
"Romantic?" Gabriel asked. He poured a drink.
"Pathetic," Kali corrected.
Gabriel raised his glass. "You're the one who called me here."
"Because I thought you might take this seriously."
"I'm taking this seriously," Gabriel said, dropping the smirk. "Ship's sinking. Time to get off. I mean, screw this marble. Let's go check out Pandora."
"It doesn't have to be like that," Kali replied.
Gabriel set down his drink and stepped forward. "Afraid it does."
"If we fight-"
"You die," Gabriel finished.
"And what makes you such an expert?"
"I've tussled with those winged ass-monkeys once or twice," Gabriel admitted. His tone took on a pleading edge. "Kali, no more tricks. I'm begging you. Don't do this."
"I have to," Kali whispered.
Gabriel bowed his head. A soft chuckle escaped him, but it held no humor. "Can't blame me for trying." He allowed himself a coy smile. "Still love me?"
"No." Then Kali grabbed him by his collar and pulled him into a heated kiss.
People cried out, their panicked voices muffled behind the thick iron door. Sam tried to unlock it, but Zao Shen appeared from around the corner and grabbed Dean, flinging him back into a rack of cutlery. He wrapped his hands around Sam's neck and squeezed.
From behind, Dean stabbed a wooden stake between the god's shoulder blades. Zao Shen groaned as his skin boiled, and he slumped over, dead.
"Where the hell is Gabriel?" Dean demanded.
Gabriel held Kali close, one hand curled into her hair and the other slowly, slowly reaching for the two vials of blood that rested on the dresser. She laced her arms around his neck. His fingers brushed the vials.
Pain, as though he had been stung by a bee, burned his skin. He jerked back, exclaiming, "ow!"
"You must take me for a fool..." Kali murmured. "... Gabriel." She held up her bloodied fingers. "You're bound to me - now and forever."
Sam and Dean stumbled back into the Grand Ballroom, shoved by two gods. Gabriel looked up at Kali.
"How long have you known?"
"Long enough," Kali replied.
The brothers were forced into seats right next to a grim-faced Gabriel.
"How's the rescue going?" Dean asked.
Gabriel glanced over at him. He smiled sarcastically.
"Well. Surprise, surprise," Kali announced. "The trickster has tricked us."
"Kali, don't," Gabriel urged.
"You're mine now." Kali eased herself into a sitting position in Gabriel's lap. "And you have something I want."
Baldur looked away as she traced her fingers down his chest, reaching into his jacket. She retrieved the silver angel blade from him. Holding it up before the other god's, their eyes narrowed, and the tension heightened.
"An archangel's blade," Kali murmured. "From the archangel... Gabriel."
Gabriel gritted his teeth. Betrayal flickered in his warm brown eyes, before his entire demeanor shifted to the taunting, jesting front that everyone recognized.
"Okay!" he exclaimed. "So I got wings. Like Kotex. But that doesn't make me any less right about Lucifer."
"He's lying," Kali snapped. "He's a spy."
"I'm not a spy," Gabriel countered. "I'm a runaway. I'm trying to save you." He leaned forward. "I know my brother, Kali. He should scare the living crap out of you. You can't beat him. I've skipped ahead, seen how this story ends."
"Your story. Not ours. Westerners - I swear, the sheer arrogance." Kali glared at him. "You think you're the only ones on Earth? You pillage and you butcher in your God's name. But you're not the only religion - and he's not the only God. And now you think you can just rip the planet apart? You're wrong," Kali told him. Her voice cracked, but not from passion. From heartbreak. "There are billions of us. And we were here first. If anyone gets to end this world... it's me." She cupped his face with one hand. "I'm sorry."
She stabbed him in the chest.
Gabriel jerked. He gazed up at Kali, eyes gleaming with confusion and fear. Kali withheld a sob.
The knife wound glowed. Gabriel tipped back his head and screamed, white light shining from his eyes and mouth, and then the glow cut off, and he went still.
Sam and Dean stared at Gabriel's body in shock.
Kali pulled away. Blood blossomed on Gabriel's shirt. The gods were silent; some in awe that angels could die, most in fear of Kali.
"This is crazy," Mercury whispered.
"They can die," Kali said. "We can kill Lucifer."
Dean exhaled shakily, then got to his feet, despite the look that Sam gave him. "Alright, you primitive screwheads. Listen up."
"Are you out of your mind?" Sam hissed.
"I'm out of options," Dean replied.
He turned back to the assembled gods. "Now, on any other given day I'd be doing my damnedest to uh, kill you, you filthy, murdering chimps. But, uh, hey, desperate times." He walked over to the back of the room, past Gabriel's corpse, and to the bottles of wine that lined the shelf. "So even though I'd love nothing better than to slit your throats, you... dicks... I'm gonna help you." He put his back to them, allowing himself to look afraid for a few moments. He was completely ad-libbing, and he was terrified. He poured a drink, trying to steady his trembling hands. "I'm gonna help you ice the Devil."
From his seat, Sam leveled Dean with a glare.
"And then we can all get back to ganking each other, like normal." Dean swished his glass, turning back to face them. "You want Lucifer? Well, dude's not in the yellow pages. But me and Sam, we can get him here."
"How?" Kali asked.
"First, you let those main courses go. Then we talk." Dean steeled himself. "We can either take on the Devil together, or you lame-ass bitches can eat me."
Sam's expression was one of abject horror.
"Literally," Dean added.
"Come on everybody, let's go," Dean ushered. The poor people from the vault streamed out the front doors, whimpering and crying out in desperation. "Let's go, let's go. Go, go, go, get outta here!"
Car engines revved as people fled, pulling out until the parking lot was empty, save for the Impala.
"Psst. Dean."
Dean paused. He frowned at his car.
"D-Don't look at me," Gabriel hissed, crouching in the back seat. "Act natural."
Lowering his gaze and walking in what he hoped was a convincing act, Dean jumped into the driver's seat and shut the door.
"Man, there is nothing natural about this at all," Dean snapped, as soon as he was safely inside. "I thought you were dead."
"You think I'd give Kali my real sword?" Gabriel scoffed. "That thing can kill me."
"Then what do they have in there?"
"A fake," Gabriel replied, grinning. "Made it out of a can of diet orange slice. So, uh… go snag our blood, wouldja?"
"What?"
"I heard you in there. Kali likes you. You can get close. Lift the plasma, then we vamoose."
"No," Dean said. Gabriel frowned, taken aback. "Hand over the real blade. Better yet, why don't you sack up and help us take down Lucifer?"
"You can't be serious."
"Deadly."
"Since when are you butt-buddies with a bunch of monsters?" Gabriel demanded. "That's all they are to you, aren't they?"
"Alright, you know what? Sam was right," Dean admitted. "It's nuts. But it's the best idea I've heard. So unless you have a better one…"
Gabriel stared at him, gauging if he was serious or not, then drummed on the leather seat. "Well, good luck with that. Me, I'm blowing Jonestown. Those lemmings wanna run off a cliff, that's their business-"
"I see right through you," Dean interrupted. "You know that? The smartass shell, the whole 'I could give a crap' thing. Believe me; it takes one to know one."
"That so?"
"Yes. And maybe those freaks in there aren't your blood, but they are your family."
"They just stabbed me in the friggin' heart!" Gabriel cried.
"Maybe, but you still give a crap about them, don't you?"
"Dean-"
"Now, they're gonna die in there without you," Dean told him.
A pause. "I can't kill my brother," Gabriel admitted softly.
"'Can't' or 'won't'?"
Gabriel looked away, his expression pained.
"That's what I thought."
"So you're going to summon Lucifer," Kali drawled.
"Sort of," Sam replied. "I just need you to squeegee some stuff from my ribs, and he'll come running."
"Breaking them would be easier," Kali suggested.
Sam gulped.
Dean tossed open the doors. "Show's over." At their questioning looks, he continued, "sword's a fake. And Gabriel? He's still kicking. I hate to break it to you, sister, but you've been tricked."
If Dean wasn't paying attention, he would have missed the flicker of relief in Kali's eyes.
Ding.
Mercury looked up from the book he was reading at the front desk. The welcoming smile he wore quickly faded.
"Checking in," Lucifer said.
"Lucifer," Mercury greeted shakily. "Thanks for coming."
"Oh, you did right, calling me," Lucifer told him. His vessel was crumbling, chipping away. Little bloody spots marred his face, and accompanied with the dark glint in his eyes, it made him look like a walking nightmare.
"It's just…" Mercury hesitated, glancing over to make sure no one was listening. "The way the talk is heading in there, it's... it's insane."
Lucifer nodded. "You know, I never understood you pagans," he admitted. "You're such... petty little things. Always fighting, always happy to sell out your own kind. No wonder you forfeited this planet to us." He pointed at Mercury, who balked under his stare. "You are worse than humans. You're worse than demons. And yet, you claim to be gods."
The patronizing smile vanished. He tilted his head, wrapping his power around the bones in Mercury's neck. In one swift motion, he twisted his fingers, and Mercury collapsed, his head jerking to the side with a crunch.
"And they call me prideful," Lucifer mused.
The lights began to flicker. The chandeliers swayed in invisible winds, the lamps buzzing and a faint rumbling filling the room.
"What's happening?" Baldur wondered aloud.
Outside, Odin screamed. Lucifer stomped on his skull. Another god lunged at him; Lucifer splattered his insides on the wall. Blood soaked his hands and clothes. Fallen pagans littered the halls, creating obstacles for Lucifer to step over and kick as he passed by.
"It's him," Sam breathed.
"How?" Kali asked.
"Does it matter?" Dean snapped. "Shazam us out of here, would you?"
"We can't," Baldr muttered. He moved in front of the group, facing off with the archangel as Lucifer stepped inside.
"Of course you can't," Lucifer agreed. "You didn't say 'mother may I?' Sam, Dean, good to see you again."
"Baldr, don't," Kali warned.
"You think you own the planet?" Baldr snarled. He lunged at Lucifer. "What gives you the right-?!"
Lucifer's fist struck out, faster than Baldr could comprehend, smashing through his ribs and emerging, bloody and gory, on the other side. "No one gives us the right," Lucifer told him quietly. "We take it." Then he yanked his arm out, and Baldr collapsed, dead.
Kali, instead of retreating, stood taller. Fire burst to life at her fingertips, wreathing her arms and engulfing her fists in burning heat. Face contorting, she held out one arm. Flames shot from her hand, setting the archangel aflame and cloaking his body in white-hot light. Fire billowed outward, prompting Sam and Dean to leap behind a fallen table and duck for cover.
The roaring flames died down.
Lucifer remained standing. He didn't appear to be affected by the heat at all. He only watched patiently as Kali stormed towards him, but before she could strike, he hit her across the face and sent her flying.
"Are you okay?" Sam whispered to Dean.
"Not really," Gabriel replied. He crouched beside them. His playful smirk was absent, replaced with grim determination. "Better late than never, huh?" He pressed something into Dean's hands. A DVD. "Guard this with your life." Then he jumped out from behind the table.
Before Lucifer could kill Kali, an invisible force smacked into him and sent him tumbling back, colliding with the far wall. He groaned and stumbled to his feet.
Gabriel stood over Kali, blocking Lucifer from her. He held the true archangel blade loosely in one hand. "Luci... I'm home."
Surprise and even a hint of excitement flickered across Lucifer's face. He began to walk over to his younger brother, lifting his arms slightly as if to offer a hug.
Gabriel brandished his blade, eyes narrowed. "Not this time."
The surprise faded. Lucifer lowered his arms, a soft noise of disappointment escaping him that the others were unable to hear. He stepped back.
Keeping his eye on Lucifer, Gabriel helped Kali to her feet. "Guys," he called. "Get her out of here."
The brothers crept out from behind the table and headed for the door, Kali in front. Gabriel guarded them until they escaped.
"Over a girl," Lucifer muttered unhappily. The vulnerability in his expression was gone. "Gabriel, really? I mean, I knew you were slumming, but... I hope you didn't catch anything."
"Lucifer," Gabriel said. "You're my brother, and I love you. But you are a great big bag of dicks."
"What did you just say to me?" Lucifer inquired, taking a step closer.
Gabriel pointed the blade at him. "Look at yourself. 'Boo-hoo. Daddy was mean to be, so I'm gonna smash up all his toys.'"
"Watch your tone," Lucifer warned.
"Play the victim all you want, but you and me? We know the truth. Dad loved you best. More than Michael. More than me." Gabriel pressed his lips together. "Then he brought the new baby home, and you couldn't handle it. So all this is just a great big temper tantrum. Time to grow up."
Outside, Kali asserted, "I'm not getting in that thing."
"Just get in the car, princess," Dean snapped. The three piled into the Impala and drove off.
"Gabriel, if you're doing this for Michael-" Lucifer started.
"Screw him," Gabriel interrupted. "If he were standing here, I'd shiv his ass too."
Lucifer scoffed in disbelief. "You disloyal-"
"Oh, I'm loyal," Gabriel corrected. "To them."
"Who? These so-called gods?"
"To people, Lucifer. People."
"So you're willing to die for a pile of cockroaches?" If Gabriel was paying closer attention, he would have seen the pain in his eyes at the idea of Gabriel dying. "Why?"
"Because Dad was right. They are better than us."
"They are broken, flawed abortions!" Lucifer snarled.
"Damn right they're flawed," Gabriel agreed. "But a lot of them try. To do better. To forgive. And you should see the Spearmint Rhino. I've been riding the pine a long time, but I'm in the game now." His tone now shifted to something assertive. "And I'm not on your side, or Michael's. I'm on theirs."
Lucifer cast his gaze downward. "Brother, don't make me do this."
"No one makes us do anything," Gabriel replied.
"I know you think you're doing the right thing, Gabriel," Lucifer murmured. "But I know where your heart truly lies."
Lucifer whirled around and caught Gabriel's blade moments before it buried itself in his back, twisting it down and stabbing Gabriel in the stomach.
"Here," Lucifer whispered.
Behind him, the mirage shimmered and vanished. Gabriel choked, clutching at Lucifer's arm as he swayed on his feet.
"Amateur hocus-pocus," Lucifer told him. "Don't forget - you learned all your tricks from me, little brother."
Gabriel made a strangled noise, real terror glittering in his hazel eyes. Pain and desperation wiped his joking mask away. He gripped Lucifer's sleeve.
Lucifer jerked the blade upwards.
White light flamed from his eyes and mouth. Gabriel arched his back and shrieked, his whole body shaking from the force of the power raging inside him.
The light went out.
Gabriel's grip slackened. He slumped to the ground, eyes closed.
Lucifer staggered back from his body. He took in a shuddering breath. He exhaled sharply, grief-stricken gaze fixed on his brother's wings, burned to ashes on the floor around him.
The blade slipped from his grasp.
"Gabriel wanted you to guard this with your life?" Sam questioned.
The brothers watched the video recording on their computer. It consisted of a scantily clad woman with romantic music playing in the background.
"Maybe he's a fan," Dean suggested. "It is a good one."
"Room service," someone called out in the video. From behind the door swept in Gabriel, his hair slicked back and wearing an unbuttoned polo. "I've got the kielbasa you ordered."
"What the hell's going on?" Sam asked, staring at the scene in disgust. Gabriel and the woman began to kiss aggressively.
Suddenly, Gabriel turned and looked directly at them. "Sam. Dean. You're probably wondering what the hell's going on." He ripped off the fake mustache. "Well - if you're watching this, I'm dead. Oh, please!" he exclaimed. "Stop sobbing. It's embarrassing for all of us. Without me, you've zero shot at killing Lucifer. Sorry. But you can trap him. The Cage you sprung Lucifer from? It's still down there. And maybe, just maybe, you can shove his ass back in. Not that it'll be easy. You gotta get the Cage open, trick my bro back into it, and, uh, oh yeah - avoid Michael and the God Squad. But hey, details, right? And here's the big secret." He leaned close. "Lucifer himself doesn't even know. But the key to the Cage? It's out there. Actually, it's keys - plural. Four keys. Well, four rings. From the horsemen."
Sam and Dean exchanged a glance.
"You get 'em all, you got the Cage. Can't say I'm betting on you boys, but, uh, hey! I've been wrong before. And, Dean... you were right," Gabriel admitted. "I was afraid to stand up to my brother. Not anymore. So this is me, standing up." His lips curved into the classic trickster grin. "And this is me, lying down."
Wincing, Sam closed the laptop before it could get any worse.
"Horsemen, huh?" Dean muttered. "Well, we got War's. We nicked Famine's. That's two rings down. To collect all four, all we need is Pestilence and Death."
"Oh, is that all?"
"It's a plan."
Sam sighed, nodding.
The brothers got into the Impala and drove off, with no clear destination and an uncertain future looming ahead.
A beat-up car ground to a halt before a small store. The door creaked open, and a sickly man stepped out.
The cashier absently scanned a newspaper, talking about the spread of influenza and lack of a vaccine. He watched a fly zip by his head. Slowly, hand clenched around the flyswatter, he prepared to kill the bug, but the door ringing distracted him, allowing the fly to escape.
A man stepped inside. He was pale and sweaty, and he seemed on the verge of collapse. He sneezed into his hand. The cashier grimaced.
Running his slimy hands over various products, he stopped at a rack and picked up a box of medicine. He coughed, spraying mucus and phlegm into the air.
"What the hell?" the cashier whispered.
"Does this stuff make you drowsy?" the man asked, sniffling. He held up a box of flu arrest. "I got a lot of driving to do."
"Blue ones make you sleepy," the cashier replied uneasily. "Red and orange ones are okay for daytime."
The man walked up to the counter and promptly sneezed on the cashier.
The latter gritted his teeth, removing his now germ-infested glasses.
"This is - this is awful," the man groaned. Flies buzzed around their heads as he went into another round of hacking coughs.
Once he'd bought the medicine, Pestilence dropped the sick act. He jumped into his car, whose Nevada license plate read 'SIKN TRD'. The green ring on his finger glinted as he started the engine, then drove off down the road.
Gathering from seemingly nowhere, flies began to spiral in his car, filling up the space and buzzing, always buzzing buzzing buzzing in a massive black swarm that blotted out the windshield.
Pestilence smiled.