Chapter 1 - Fast Car
Gail was the first one out of their rapidly dwindling group to realize two things. The first thing was that they were completely screwed. Why were the Angels and the Demons still fighting? It must be a pride thing now, or just sheer stubbornness on both Raphael's and Lucifer's parts, because with every passing day it became more and more apparent that there was going to be no prize at the bottom of the cereal box, once all this was over. Earth was being flattened, and there had been so many killings by now that she wasn't sure where the human slaves that both sides had talked about having were supposed to come from. Castiel had frowned when she'd brought up the question, saying that if Lucifer's side won, he had witches and monsters to do his bidding, and if Crowley's Demons thought that they were going to become emancipated by winning the war, they were only deluding themselves. And as far as the Angels went, Raphael definitely wasn't above enslaving his own people, if the number of postwar survivors was insufficient for the Archangel's liking.
That had been one of Gail's biggest fears; that one of them would be captured and taken as a prisoner of war. Castiel had thought about that too, of course, and he had contingencies in place. His actions would depend on who was taken. Some were considered expendable, and would be left to their own devices if captured. Naturally, they could decide to capitulate, and toil away for whichever side they happened to find themselves on. That was not his decision to make. But if that particular individual then raised a hand to any one of Castiel's group, he would have no choice but to kill them. Frank had piped up that this sounded like the deadliest game of Red Rover ever, and some of the humans had smiled grimly. But Castiel wasn't smiling.
And it wasn't just the people, it was...well, everything else. Buildings were being destroyed, streets were ripped up from end to end, and dead bodies were piled up all over town. There were only a few entities who had the ability to just snap their fingers and clear the corpses away, but even they couldn't be everywhere at the same time. Some of the Angels Cas thought he could reach would bury the bodies, or at least take them inside, somewhere. Those were the Angels that seemed to have some sense of compassion left inside of them. Or maybe they just disliked the smell, and the flies. But whenever anyone on their team had seen something like that, they would call on either Cas or Gabriel, and one of the men would attend at the scene, to see if they could persuade those who had demonstrated compassion to come over to their side. And a few actually had come, but not very many. Most of them were too frightened and intimidated by Raphael and his lieutenants. Even though he had been one of the loudest detractors of Castiel and Jason's Special Forces, Raphael had now given Cas's former compatriot the green light to re-form that group, and they were eagerly plying their trade once again. Castiel would almost rather one of his troops be captured by Lucifer than by Jason and those men. He had first-hand knowledge of the atrocities those men were capable of committing, because he had once commanded them himself. And that had been in peacetime. This was war, so anything and everything was on the table.
The second thing that Gail had begun to realize was nothing short of astonishing. She and Tommy, Nicole, Dean and an Angel named Isaac were currently helping Dean to close up his autobody shops, one by one. People had stopped bringing their cars in, anyway. When you were in the middle of an Apocalypse, things like car repairs tended to go by the wayside. But Dean had wanted to go through the places, first. If there were any implements that could be used as weapons, he meant to see to it that they weren't seized by the wrong people. Not all of the enemy were otherworldly beings. Both the Angels and Lucifer's crew had picked up humans to fight on their sides along the way, for one reason or another. Dean couldn't understand it. People, taking up arms against other people. And for what? What did they think was gonna happen if their side won? Did they think that either Lucifer or Raphael were going to just accept them into the fold and treat them like equals? Cas had told them all how those guys viewed humans. In fact, their Angel friend had confessed that he used to feel exactly the same way. He didn't any more, of course, but Cas had informed them that humans were viewed as no better than cockroaches to hardline Angels like Raphael. Vermin, to be exterminated as efficiently and expeditiously as possible. OK, OK, they got it, Dean had said disgustedly. Geez. Cas sure didn't hold back when it came to that kind of stuff. But Dean couldn't say a word against Cas. Not only had his Angel friend crossed the floor, big time, he had put his money where his mouth was. Cas was out there fighting his own kind every day to protect humans. Each and every day. And he had healed Nicole. If Cas had never done anything else, that one act had been enough to cement Dean's friendship with Cas. Cas was still weird and he always would be, but Dean felt a growing affection for the Angel, anyway.
So did Nicole. She and Gail were working in the office that used to be Frank's, shredding paperwork and putting aside anything that might be of value. Dean and Tommy were on the shop floor, sorting through the tools and other equipment. Tommy had joked that he was probably one of the only gay guys they knew who would be up to that task, and Barry had chided his partner for feeding a stereotype. Then Tommy had asked Barry if he knew the difference between a socket wrench and a screwdriver, and most of the men had laughed at the puzzled expression on Barry's face. The only screwdriver he knew about was vodka and orange juice, and boy, couldn't he use one of those right about now, Barry had quipped. Frank had clapped a hand on Barry's shoulder and said that as humour went, he couldn't possibly improve on that line, and Barry had smiled widely. They had to take those moments of levity when and where they could get them, because the reality of life out there was so stark these days, by comparison.
Isaac the Angel had painted temporary sigils on the outside of the building, and he was patrolling the perimeter as an extra precaution. The sigils would work on every Angel except Upper Echelon members, but Castiel hadn't been overly concerned about that. Generals deployed troops; they almost never entered the fray themselves. If they had merely been vanquishing humans, it would probably have been a different story. But with Lucifer and his contingents out there actively doing their own killing, discretion was the better part of valour. There had been fairly heavy casualties on both sides, but so far, the major players all remained on the game board. Isaac wondered how long that status quo would hold.
Nicole and Gail were finished in the office. They hadn't saved much. What use would business records be in a world such as they were living in now? Gail had found the old brass nameplate that had her brother's name and title as Manager, and she thought that he would like to have it as a memento. That was back when they were all still deluding themselves that things could return back to normal, of course.
Dean was standing beside a black 1967 Chevy Impala, running his hand over it lovingly. Nicole moved to stand beside him, and Dean gave her a squeeze. "Remember going out cruising in this baby, playing the oldies on the radio?" he asked his wife.
"Of course I do. I love this car," Nicole said, nuzzling her husband's cheek. "My favourite part was the time we parked at that Lookout Point."
As Dean and Nicole began to kiss, Gail said, "Ewww. Get a room, you guys. You're as bad as me and Cas." But even as she said that, she realized that she had no idea where it had come from. This iteration of Cas was not demonstrative with his affection at all, and he and Gail had been entirely celibate the whole time they had known each other. There were way too many other things keeping them occupied right now.
Dean was still kissing Nicole, ignoring their friend. He and his wife had been so despondent over losing their kids, and Quinn, and Sam's kids, that they hadn't really been in much of a mood to be affectionate. But they were starting to realize that life was much too precarious these days not to show love for your loved ones while you could. No one knew from one day to the next if they would all still be alive when the sun went down that night.
"Settle down, Egbert," Tommy said with a smile, and Gail looked at him sharply. "What?!" she exclaimed.
Tommy laughed. "Sorry. My mom used to say that to my dad, sometimes. When I asked them what that meant, they would just laugh, and say that it was a private joke."
Gail was staring at Dean now. Why was she looking at HIM? What would he have to do with Tommy's parents?
"I know what you mean," Nicole said to Tommy. "My Grandpa used to have all kinds of these weird, non sequitur sayings, that only made sense to him. When he died, we half-joked that he was going to come back and haunt us." Her smile faded. "Sorry. I guess that was really inappropriate, considering all of our circumstances."
Then Nicole began to cry, and Dean held her, consoling her. Neither Tommy nor Gail thought anything of the rapid segueway of emotions. They'd all experienced those, in this new world order.
But Gail was standing there now, transfixed. What was it about Nicole's grandfather and the comment she'd made about a haunting that was tickling Gail's brain now? She felt a chill, all of a sudden. Maybe it was the power of suggestion. Back when she and Frank had been taking Sam's class, they had learned that when ghosts manifested, the room frequently became colder.
Now, she was thinking about THAT. A University Professor who taught about ancient cultures and civilizations, and a mechanic-turned-entrepreneur? How did two guys like that know so much about supernatural beings? How did they know how to fight, and wield weapons so efficiently? Cas had been astonished to see the skill the brothers had demonstrated in training. Frank, too. Where had those qualities come from?
And then, there were Jody and Frank, as a couple. Every time Gail saw the two of them, joking around with each other or stealing the occasional kiss, Gail felt both very happy and very sad somehow, at the exact same time. Why would that be?
And then, there was Sam and Dean's friend, Bobby Singer. The older man had come into their training facility a few days ago, saying he wanted to help. The brothers had taken Cas and Gabriel aside and told the Angels that Bobby was already fighting a battle, one within his own body. Their old friend had lung cancer, and he was thinner than he should be, with a very pale complexion. But he was a proud man, who knew an awful lot about monsters and Demons. So Cas had installed Bobby in an office, and he was currently acting as liaison between the Angels and the humans, deploying teams at Cas's or Gabriel's direction.
Bobby hadn't batted an eyelash when the Winchesters had told him about the Angels and Lucifer, but he had stared at Frank, Jody and Gail, when Sam and Dean had introduced them. Gail had been staring at Bobby, too. He had seemed very familiar to her somehow, although she had no idea why that would be.
Isaac suddenly appeared on the shop floor, and he was holding a cell phone in his hand. Nicole had collected herself once more, and she couldn't help but smile at the distasteful way the Angel was holding the phone, as if it was crawling with germs. Isaac was one of the longer-serving Angels, and he knew nothing about humans, or their ways. But Cas had insisted that every Angel carry a cell phone. He and Gabriel needed to make sure that they could communicate with the humans they were protecting.
"Gabriel wants to talk to you," Isaac said, extending the phone to Gail.
"Me?!" She was scared. Why would Gabriel want to talk to HER? Had something happened to Frank? She gasped. Has something happened to Cas?
Gail took the phone. "Hi, Gabriel, it's me," she said into it. "Is everyone OK?"
"Sure, Penguin. Everybody's fine!" Gabe shouted. Gail winced, holding the phone away from her ear. Even the Angels who knew how to use cell phones always yelled into them, like they couldn't quite believe that the humans on the other end could hear them. She guessed she could kind of understand it. They were all able to converse with each other in their heads, after all. Must be nice. Still, she was going to be deaf soon, if they didn't ease off a little.
"Why are you calling, Gabriel?" she said into the receiver, trying to keep her ear away from it.
"Cas wanted me to find out how much longer you're going to be," Gabe said. "You know how worried he gets."
Gail looked inquiringly at Dean, whose lips were twitching now. "I heard," he said, resisting the urge to add that everybody within a five-mile radius probably had, too. "I think we're done, here. Between the three of us guys, we should be able to handle the heavy stuff OK. Right, Ike?" he said to the Angel, who regarded the elder Winchester dubiously. "My name is Isaac," the Angel sniffed.
"We'll be back in just a minute," Gail told Gabriel. "Good," he remarked. "See you soon, Penguin."
"Kitten," she corrected him absently.
"What?" Gabriel said, puzzled.
"It's 'Kitten'," she said, open-mouthed with surprise at her sudden revelation. "You call me Kitten."
And by the time she'd hung up the phone and had Isaac transport them all back to headquarters, Gail had remembered everything.
Lucifer and Vincent sat in the library area of the multi-million dollar mansion that Satan had commandeered as his own headquarters, swilling wine and doing parlour tricks. Lucifer would wiggle his finger and levitate an object, and Vincent would wave his hand and make it explode, or fly it across the room.
The Devil was restless and bored. Crowley had the Demons out there kicking Angel ass, and Vincent's voodoo people were brewing up spells with the witches. He had an extensive harem now, comprised of witches, Demons, humans, and even a few Angels, for when he felt like sending a message. Azazel and John would pop in every once in a while to report that Raphael was suffering ever-increasing casualties, and that more and more Angels were deserting the Archangel to join Castiel and Gabriel, and their band of upstarts.
Castiel and Gabriel. Lucifer's erstwhile Brothers. He hadn't been too surprised that Gabriel was siding with the humans. The Archangel had always been a hedonistic individual, and Lucifer had to admit that there were a number of things Earth could offer a pleasure-seeker that Heaven could not. But...Castiel? Now, that one had been a shocker. Castiel had been the hardest of hardline Angels, a sour-faced, sanctimonious shell of a man. What could have happened to have changed his outlook so radically?
Lucifer found out a few minutes later, when Azazel brought in a small, nebbish-looking Angel. "Look who I have here," the yellow-eyed Demon said smugly. He pushed Metatron, hard, and the Scribe fell to his knees on the library floor. "Kneel in front of your new Lord," Azazel sneered.
"Don't hurt me, please," Metatron begged. "I'm a Scribe, not a warrior."
"No; what he is, is a coward," John said, popping into the room with a captive of his own. This one was defiant and struggling, but Lucifer waved his hand and Jason went down to his knees, too.
"Well, well. Now, we're getting somewhere," Lucifer said, grinning. He was almost as happy for the break in monotony as he was to see the identities of the latest captives.
"Who are these guys?" Vincent asked curiously.
"The one who looks like a weasel is Metatron, and the other one is Jason," Satan told his compatriot. "Both are members of the Upper Echelon. Raphael's not gonna care what we do with the Scribe, but he'll be sorry to lose Jason. He and Castiel were the worst, most bloodthirsty Angels in Heaven, until their breakup. Did you get any alimony, at least?" he added with nasty good humour, looking at Jason.
"I can help you," Metatron was saying. "I can tell you anything you want to know. If you let me live, I can be a great asset to you."
"Can you?" Lucifer said calmly. "OK, fine: tell me why Castiel decided to join the humans, then."
Jason laughed derisively. "He fell in love with a human, that's why."
Lucifer's jaw dropped. "Get outta here," he said, astonished. Out of all the things he could possibly have been told about his Angel Brother, that one wouldn't have even cracked the Top 20. "Castiel? The original tight-ass? The human-hating, lemon-sucking prig? THAT Castiel?"
"Do you know of another one?" Jason said sarcastically.
Vincent was looking curiously at Lucifer. Satan hated it when anyone talked to him like that. The two of them had that in common. Then why wasn't Lucifer vapourizing the guy?
It was because Satan had the feeling that Jason might be a veritable fountain of information. But he wasn't going to be a pushover, either. Lucifer was glad. He needed the challenge.
"Can you deliver Castiel and Gabriel to me?" he asked Jason, and Jason shrugged. "What's it worth to you?"
Lucifer smiled. "Have a seat, and we'll talk." He waved his hand, and Jason was sitting in an armchair next to Vincent, holding a glass of wine.
"What about me?" Metatron wailed, and Lucifer smiled again. He looked at Vincent. "Have you got any good tricks up your sleeve for this one?" the Devil asked the Voodoo Priest, gesturing to the Scribe. Then he looked at John and Azazel. "You did good, guys. Help yourselves to my harem, and stand by for further instructions."
By the time the Demons left the library, Metatron's screams could be heard reverberating through the corridors of the house.
Crowley was out there too, but he had been ignoring Lucifer's summons. No one summoned the King of Hell; not even the Devil, himself. Lucifer seemed to be under the impression that Crowley should be at his beck and call. Well, he wished Lucifer a lot of luck with that.
The King had spies in the mansion, and they informed him that Jason had joined Lucifer's side now, supplanting Vincent as Satan's sidekick. Jason and Lucifer were now thick as thieves, and they were conspiring to go after Castiel, not Raphael. Crowley couldn't believe what he was hearing. It was Raphael and his bloody flock of Angel warriors who were the real threat. Just because Jason was all pouty since his divorce from Castiel, that didn't mean that he should forget who the more formidable enemy was in this situation.
Crowley didn't relish the idea of Raphael winning the war. Frankly, the King didn't give a flying fig about Lucifer, or Vincent, or Azazel, or any of them. He would be well shot of Lucifer. The Devil thought that he was the King of everything, but he was as useless as tits on a bull, in Crowley's view. He coasted through life on reputation alone, and even though he had prodigious powers, he seldom lifted a finger on his own behalf. Lucifer reminded Crowley of one of those rich, entitled, spoilt brats who seemed to think that everything was their due, simply because they existed. Lucifer had been a sodding Angel, though, hadn't he? So when exactly had he become Crowley's burden to bear?
The King hated to admit it; he really, truly did. But if he wanted Raphael to lose, and if he wanted Lucifer to lose, that left him with only one other option. But at least he had a choice as to which of the two he would be able to better stomach for the length of time it took to cut the deal.
Gabriel popped himself over to the meeting place, regarding Crowley with suspicion. "YOU want to do a deal with US?" he said incredulously. "Why?"
"I have my reasons," the King said coolly. "All you need to know is that this is the deal of a lifetime I'm offering you. If Castiel will agree to leave me and my designates in peace, I will order my minions to begin slaughtering Lucifer's minions. Then, we will stand against Raphael and his Angels. Then the three of us will kill Lucifer's lieutenants. And then, when Satan is the last man standing, the two of you will go into the High Office and get the key to that shiny new cage I've got in the bowels of Hell, and we will encage Lucifer in it, and have done with it. In return, Castiel will promise to leave me and my Kingdom alone, when he resumes the Office. What do you say?"
"I say I'll have to talk it over with him," Gabriel said warily. "I say I'm wondering what the catch is."
"No catch," Crowley said casually. "Maybe I'm just nostalgic for the way things used to be. Me in my Kingdom, Castiel in his, and you at the local, for Happy Hour. There are way too many players cluttering up the chessboard right now."
Gabriel nodded. "You know, when you put it that way, I could almost believe you. But I still have to run it by Castiel, first. You won't mind if I call him and ask him to attend our little confab here, will you?"
Crowley sighed heavily. He supposed he couldn't blame Gabriel for his mistrust. It wasn't as if they didn't all have a rich history of hatred and betrayal between them. But he had really been hoping not to have to look at his brother's arrogant, holier-than-thou face today, if he could help it. Still, Gabriel was doing exactly what Crowley would do, if he were in the same position.
"Fine. Call him," the King said, sighing.
A moment later, Castiel appeared. He had his blade in his hand, a fact that didn't surprise Crowley in the least. He couldn't recall a meeting with his brother that didn't result in weaponry being brandished. No, it wasn't the blade that made the King's eyebrows rise. It was the fact that Castiel was holding hands with a diminutive human woman, with big, brown eyes.