Chapter 2 - Lucifer's Legacy
The night before The End, Cas had the blades out on the library table, and he, Gail, and Kevin were examining them. Chuck was there too, mainly because he'd wanted to start getting a better handle on the ancient language. By tacit agreement, the latter two Angels didn't mention Dean's name, or ask where he and Sam were. The two brothers had left the bunker hours ago, and they still hadn't returned.
They had four out of the five blades now, missing only Crowley's, and Cas had needed something constructive to do. He and Gail had been talking quietly, and the subject had come up. There would never be a better time, in a way; they had all of the hours until dawn to fill, and no one knew if Lucifer's blade would still be intact at the conclusion of what they had to do tomorrow.
As the two more experienced readers of the ancient language, Cas and Kevin were scanning each blade in turn, looking for the names of the other Originals.
"We're looking for the weaknesses of any of the other Originals," Cas had told everyone. "Apparently, our blades may have markings that denote those." He was cursing himself now. Why hadn't he devoted more time to studying these before? Yes, they'd been very busy, but he should have set aside the time. There might be something here they could use to help subdue Lucifer. But there were hundreds of tiny markings on the blades, and the language was very complex. That was his story, and he was sticking with it.
"Here's something on your blade, Cas, but it mentions Crowley, not Lucifer," Kevin said.
Cas shrugged. "We might as well make note of it," he remarked. "What does it say?"
Kevin studied the markings for a couple of minutes, and then he started to smile. But then he thought better of it, considering the current circumstances. Still, it was pretty funny. If they hadn't been standing here on the eve of Dean's death, Kevin might have laughed out loud. He had a particular hatred of Crowley, because of their history.
"You're not going to believe this," the young Angel said. "It says here that you can make Crowley tell the truth about one thing, anything, if you make him take a drink that has a ground-up crocodile tooth in it."
The Angels all looked at each other, incredulous. "That's oddly specific," Gail remarked. "But yes, please, mark that down, Kevin. I'm pretty sure that's going to be helpful at some point in the future." She looked at Cas. "It's too bad we don't have access to his blade. It makes me nervous to think that he might have some stuff on us that we don't know about."
Castiel nodded absently. He worried about that, too. But he'd been studying Gail's blade, and he was zeroing in on something now. "If Lucifer puts up a protective shield, Gail can use her blade to erode it," he said aloud. He looked at her, astonished. "That's extremely useful. When we all combine our powers to drive him toward the cage, he will doubtless attempt to put up shielding, as he fights back."
"Great," Gail said, nodding. "Between that, all of our powers, and the candlesticks, we should be able to overpower him."
"It's funny, I haven't seen Lucifer's name on any of the other blades here so far, just Gail's," Kevin remarked.
Cas looked thoughtful. "That is probably the product of years of prejudice. No one took my darling wife seriously enough to consider that she might be an equally formidable adversary for Lucifer. I'm ashamed to say that I was one of those people." He took Gail's hand. "After this is over, we will have to spend more time going over your blade," he said to her.
Gail's heart sank into her stomach. That was if he was even speaking to her, in the future. The weight of the deception that she and Sam were planning to perpetrate sat heavy on her shoulders. When Cas and Dean had gone to her and Cas's house, she and Sam had talked quietly about what they were going to do, subsequent to tomorrow's events. They would have to go ahead with the memorial service and the burning of the corpse, of course. No one else was to know that they were going to go to work on Rowena's spell immediately after the funeral, not even Cas. Gail felt terrible about that, but she couldn't afford to take the chance. He had made it quite plain how he felt about the whole thing, so she felt as if she had no choice in the matter. But, how was that going to go? Should they just go ahead and perform the spell, and then have Cas sitting here when they brought Dean in the door? Or was there a way to make it seem like Cas's idea? And, how might that go?
CASTIEL - DEATH IS NOT THE END
It had been a week since Dean's funeral, and everyone was in heavy mourning. They were all dealing with it in their own ways. Cas was in deep denial. He had withdrawn from everyone and everything, disconnecting himself from everyone in the family. He couldn't bear to go to the bunker, because every time he went there, all he could see were the empty spaces where Dean should be.
"I'm going over to the bunker to make sure that Sam has something to eat," Gail told Cas. Her husband said nothing. He didn't even look at her. Gail sighed. She was starting to feel a little resentful. She was running herself ragged trying to spend equal time with all of the people who were miserable over Dean's death, trying to make sure they were all being taken care of. But what about HER grief? Who was looking after her? Nobody, that was who. Cas had ultimately persuaded her not to pursue the revival spell, so Dean was going to stay dead. That was it. Case closed. Tout fini. So, this was their lives now. She hoped Cas was happy. If he had let them, she and Sam could have been working on the spell to revive Dean right now. But, no. Cas had his principles. He had been so adamantly against even the idea of their reviving Dean that way that both Gail and Sam had caved. So, here they were, together alone, with a huge chasm in all of their lives. But, hey, Cas had his principles to keep him warm.
Gail popped out, and Cas just sat there in anguish. No; not anguish. That word wasn't even close to the way he was feeling right now. Was there a word for the sub-basement of the pits of Hell? Was there an expression that could adequately cover the feeling of having let everyone down so badly that they would never forgive you? And how about the emotion connected with hating yourself this much for doing the right thing? What was that called?
Cas should really go over to the bunker and see Sam. He hadn't seen his friend since the day of Dean's funeral. Cas had been one of the pallbearers, of course. A proper Hunter's funeral had a twist to it; the body was required to be burned on a pyre at its conclusion. Dean had requested four pallbearers: Sam, Cas, Bobby, and Frank. They had borne his body to the back yard of the bunker, held the memorial service, and then applied lit torches to Dean's corpse, two men on each side. And they had all been crying as they had done it.
Just like Cas was crying now. He cried all the time, and Gail was angry all the time. She still let him take her hand and hold her at night, but they rarely even spoke any more, And even when they did, their conversation was more businesslike than anything else. He had tried to talk to her about how sorry he felt, but she had shut him down. He'd gotten his way, she'd said, and now he had to live with the consequences. And she was right, of course, so he'd closed his mouth again.
While Cas sat at home berating himself for having been unable to come up with an alternate way of getting rid of Lucifer, Sam was sitting morosely at the library table in the bunker. Gail had made him a sandwich, but he refused to even touch it.
She was livid. "None of this is going to bring Dean back!" Gail yelled at Sam. He said nothing. They'd had this conversation before, and he hadn't said much then, either. She was right, Sam knew, but he couldn't seem to make himself care. Food tasted like cardboard and paste to Sam without Dean there, shoveling it into his face. Even the sound of peoples' voices sounded wrong here, without Dean's gruff baritone weighing in with a joke or some other kind of a comment.
Gail was done. These guys needed a wake-up call. She popped back to the house and rushed over to where Cas sat, taking him by the hand. "You're coming with me," she told him. She popped them both back to the bunker as Sam looked up, startled. Gail took Cas over to sit beside Sam, and then she stalked over to the library shelves. Rowena's spell book still sat there, neatly filed, because they had promised Cas they wouldn't use it, and he trusted them.
Gail brought the book over to where the two men sat and slammed it on the table between them.
"It's time to decide, once and for all," she told them angrily. "If this is the way it's going to be, let's just burn the damn thing, and move on. But I'm not going to let it come between us anymore. So either destroy it, or open it up to the last page, Cas. Enough is enough. I promise to abide by whatever it is you decide, but we have to do something, you guys. We either have to bring him back, or else we have to let him go."
Cas looked at the book, and then he slowly raised his head to look at Sam. Sam sighed. "I think you know what the right thing to do is, Cas," he said.
Cas frowned. Yes, he did. "Of course I do, Sam," he said sadly. He reached for the book, and his hand hesitated. Then he flipped it open, to the last page.
Gail was standing over the blades, pretending to look at them, but she was really eyeing her husband. Was that the way that things would go? Or would Cas have taken the book and destroyed it? As things stood right now, she was afraid it would probably be the latter. So that was why the deception had to continue. But, with any luck, not for much longer. Please, God. Not for much longer.
CROWLEY - IN THE END
It was the middle of the night now in Lebanon, Kansas. Sam and Dean were pulling an all-nighter, wanting to soak up every minute of brotherly togetherness. They had checked into a motel and were sitting at the small table in the room, drinking beer and reminiscing.
There was no sense of night or day in Hell, of course, but the King wore a watch, and he was keeping an eye on the time. Dawn was only a few hours away, and soon enough, Castiel would send out the call.
It was funny, really. In a few short hours, Dean Winchester was going to be dead, and Crowley was examining his feelings about it. Turning them over and over in his mind, as one would look at a Rubik's cube. Figuring out how to solve it, or if you even wanted to try.
Crowley and the Winchesters went back a ways. Funnily enough, he had actually known them longer than Castiel had. They had been natural adversaries from the start, yet every time Crowley turned around, he had been thrown together with them, reluctant allies brought about by circumstances. He and Dean had even been friends, when Dean had had the Mark of Cain. Well, if you could call what they had done together friendship, of course. Crowley did, but Demons had a slightly skewed view of such things.
So Dean was going to die, Sam was going to kill him, and the Angels were just going to sit back and let it happen. And even if Crowley were inclined to want to do something about it, their Father had built in the failsafe. The Tablet stated that Crowley would not be allowed to revive Dean. Maybe God had known how ambivalent the King was going to feel about Dean's death. Truthfully, Crowley didn't understand why their Father required this blood sacrifice to build another cage in which to house Lucifer. It hadn't been needed the first time. Who had written those Tablets, anyway? Metatron swore up and down that those particular slabs of stone were not his work. But if not the Scribe's, then whose?
The alarm on his watch beeped. One more hour. Crowley went to the safe in his office and spun the combination lock. It opened, and he took his blade out. He didn't usually travel around with it. With his powers, he didn't need it. But it would be all hands on deck today, and when you were doing battle with the Devil, it was best to come armed to the teeth. He stashed the blade in his inside jacket pocket and returned to his desk after closing the safe.
FRANK - THE STRONG ONE
Sam and Dean rolled into the garage at the bunker just before dawn. "Go ahead in, Sammy," Dean said to his brother. "I just want to look at my Baby for another minute. Say a private goodbye. She'll be yours, soon. You'd better take good care of her, or I'll come back as a vengeful ghost and kick your ass."
Frank was sitting up in the kitchen, having coffee. He hadn't been able to sleep. The Angels had been in the library looking at the knives, and now they were getting the Tablets out of the safe, preparing for what was supposed to happen this morning. He didn't want to watch that, so he'd come here and put a pot of coffee on. Maybe Sam and Dean would want some when they got in. Maybe Frank could have one last drink with both brothers. It wasn't the kind of drink he wanted to have with them, but it would have to do.
Sam came in through the door from the garage and he looked at Frank, surprised. Frank shrugged. "Jody's snoring was keeping me awake," he quipped.
Sam crossed over to the coffeemaker and got himself a mug from the cupboard, pouring himself a cup. "How's she doing?" he asked Frank.
Gail's brother shrugged again. "Better than me," he stated bluntly. But that wasn't entirely true. His wife had been complaining that she felt tired all the time, and just generally unwell. After this travesty was over, he was going to put her in the car and drive her to the doctor himself. It would give him something to do, anyway.
"Where are Cas and Gail?" Sam asked, sipping at his coffee.
"In the library, getting the stuff together," Frank replied. As Sam nodded, Frank had a question of his own: "Where's Dean?"
"Still in the garage, making love to his Baby one more time," Sam responded.
Frank turned around in his seat. "What's the matter with you?" he asked Sam curiously. "You're being way too stoic about this."
"I'm going to see Cas and Gail," Sam said evasively. He left the kitchen as Frank rolled his eyes. Great. Sam was going to go see the Angels. And why not? He was starting to talk like them. But it was Dean who was gonna be an Angel soon, if God was merciful. Then, how come everybody was so calm? Frank had butterflies in his stomach as big as pterodactyls, but he seemed to be the only one. Still, it was in his nature to be the strong one. He had been that guy for Gail all those years, and now, he had a whole family to be strong for.
Dean entered the kitchen, and he had a half-smile on his face. He'd spent a bittersweet couple of minutes with his hand on Baby, remembering all of the moments he'd had with the car, both good and bad. He'd patted her fondly and told her to take care of Sammy for him. Then he'd turned away, putting the keys in his top jacket pocket. He'd have to remember to give them to Sam before...well, before.
Frank's heart skipped a beat, but he had promised himself that he would act normally, so he said, "What are you smirking about?"
"Nothing a Neanderthal like you would understand," Dean replied, still smiling.
"Me caveman. Me carry big club," Frank grunted, playing along.
"I've seen you in the mens' room; don't flatter yourself," Dean wisecracked.
Frank rolled his eyes. "Just my luck. That's the funniest thing you've ever said, and now you're taking off before I can think of a good retort."
"Always leave 'em laughing," Dean said, shrugging. Then he approached Gail's brother. "Well, I'd better get going. Have a shake with me, Frank," Dean said, extending his hand.
Frank stood. "Screw that," he said. He pulled Dean in for a hug.
"In case I don't see you, take good care of that family of yours," Dean said, embracing Frank. "And that sister of yours, too. I'm glad Cas brought you back, man. You're my brother from another mother."
Frank choked back a sob, and Dean came out of the hug, looking at Frank's face. "Aww now, don't do that," Dean said.
"Do me a favour?" Frank said, trying to collect himself. "Tell Cas to kick Lucifer's ass. That guy's gotta go. He's taken way too much from us as it is. And if he kidnaps Gail one more time, we're gonna have to print up a card for him to get stamped. Like one of those frequent buyer deals. He's like the cliche bad guy in those old-time-y movies, twirling his moustache and tying her to the railroad tracks."
Dean favoured him with a thin smile. He knew what Frank was doing now, and he blessed him for it. "I know, right?" Dean answered in kind. "I always wondered about that. Why doesn't the bad guy just kill the good guy right away in the movies, instead of just talking and talking?"
"Yeah," Frank agreed enthusiastically. "They just blather on, giving away their whole evil plan, and the good guy always has time to get away."
"And then, the bad guy bitches about it," Dean added. "'I should have killed you when I had the chance', he says. Well, duh! Of course you should have! When I see Metatron, I'm gonna tell him: don't ever put that in one of your scripts."
The two men smiled at each other for a moment and then Dean clapped Frank on the shoulder. "Good deal," he said. This was how he wanted to remember his friend.
He turned around and walked down the hall.
GAIL - IN TOO DEEP
Sam had taken Lucifer's blade out of the safe, and he had it in his jacket pocket now. It was still wrapped in Dean's jacket. Cas had cautioned Sam that he'd better not hold the knife in his bare hand until the appropriate time, and Sam had nodded. There was no sense taking any chances.
The Angels were going to go on ahead and summon Crowley and Metatron to the coordinates of the churchyard. They had picked a countryside church, with a large field behind it, not unlike the bunker's. There was an old cemetery there with a few tombstones, and then the empty field behind that. They had researched the hours of the services, and the place should be deserted. Once Crowley and Metatron arrived, Gail was going to pop back to the bunker and start bringing the Tablets over. Allies or not, there was no way Cas was going to leave Gail alone with those two. So she would bring the Tablets, she and Cas would set them up as directed, and then she would go back and get Sam and Dean.
It had occurred to the Angels the night before that they had no idea how they were supposed to get Lucifer to come to the site, so they had studied the markings on the Hell Tablet again. Crowley and Metatron had omitted the last two lines of the instructions. While it had been entirely possible that Cas hadn't given them the chance to finish by winking himself and Gail away so quickly that time, Cas wasn't taking any chances. He was going to keep a very close eye on the two of them.
The final two lines advised that Lucifer's blade would call to him, and he would have no choice but to go to it. As soon as Sam held it aloft and the sun's rays glinted on the metal, Lucifer would appear. Then Sam would stab Dean with the Devil's blade, and the cage would materialize. The four Originals would then engage with Lucifer, forcing him into the newly reconstructed cage.
That all sounded as if it should work, Gail was thinking now as she lined the Tablets up in their cases for transport. As a blueprint, if she were to look at it objectively and discount the fact that Dean was going to have to die, it seemed pretty straight-ahead. But when did things ever go smoothly for them?
Assuming that all did go according to plan, however, she supposed that Crowley would transport a newly imprisoned Lucifer back to Hell, Metatron would go back to Vancouver, and she and Cas and Sam would take Dean's body back to the bunker in preparation for his funeral. Or, more accurately, his memorial service. Dean had made it quite plain that he didn't want a lot of weeping and gnashing of teeth. He wanted everyone to dress in T-shirts and jeans, classic rock to be played, and alcohol to be consumed in copious amounts. In short, he wanted his memorial to be the kind of party he would have enjoyed if he were there. Which he would be, of course, in a way.
But Dean's body would not. Prior to the burning of the corpse, Sam and Gail were going to perform some sleight-of-hand and substitute Dean's body with another. They were going to need Dean's bones for the spell. So they were going to have to hide him somewhere, she supposed. Then, when the ceremony was over and everyone had cleared out, Gail was going to tell Cas to go up to Heaven and get the necessary paperwork from Laurel to begin his participation in the elections process. Cas would be eager to do that, because the sooner they got the ball rolling there, the sooner Dean could be rescued from the Garden, from Cas's viewpoint.
That was the way Cas was looking at it, anyway. He was relying on his faith, reasoning that their Father had a back-up plan. But Gail's approach was a lot more cynical than that. The Good Lord helped those who helped themselves, was her philosophy. And just because the spell came from Rowena's book didn't automatically make it evil, in her opinion. She and Sam were motivated by love for Dean, and in Gail's mind, that made it OK. Sam had what they'd grimly joked as the Malcolm X philosophy: By whatever means necessary. He didn't care what he had to do; he was getting his brother back. And that was why he was able to be so calm now. There was not a doubt in Sam's mind that they were going to get Dean back. Not even one.
"Is everyone ready?" Cas asked.
LUCIFER - HOW DO YOU TALK TO AN ANGEL
Lucifer's head snapped up. His blade! The Angels had his blade.
This was it. The Big Showdown. Gunfight at the OK Corral. He started to grin. Everybody, put your cards on the table and unzip your pants. Time to finally see whose was the biggest.
An instant later, he appeared in the field behind the church. Lucifer's eyes took in the scene. The five Tablets, forming the points of a star just beyond the cemetery. The four other Originals, standing around the circle. And Sam and Dean Winchester inside the circle, Lucifer's blade in Sam's hand.
Suddenly, a great windstorm began to blow. It picked up the dirt and weeds in the field, and the debris shot out in the direction of the Originals.
"Shield your eyes!" Castiel shouted. He threw his arms out in front of him and then waved them to the side, and his blue beams deflected the debris. Then he waved his arms again, and the wind stopped.
"Good for you, Castiel. You've finally learned how to control it," Lucifer said calmly. Then he smiled. "Well, isn't this something. Very Biblical. Tablets, Original Angels, modern-day Cain and Abel, in reverse. Way to go, you guys. All the elements are here. Look at you, Castiel. Look how fearsome you are. You think you're God already, don't you? Ready to wreak a little righteous vengeance on me, I trust? And your lovely little wife. How are you, honey? You must be looking forward to this. Serves me right, doesn't it? And, Metatron. My old cellmate. How're they hanging? Have you written this scene for your movie yet? Yeah, that's right. I know all about it. Spoiler alert: all of you die at the end. And, Your Majesty. I guess the mystery of whose side you're really on has finally been solved. Here, have some holy water, on me."
Lucifer flicked his hand in Crowley's direction and suddenly, a tidal wave of water rose up from the dust, heading directly for the King. But Crowley raised his blade and a red beam shot out from it, parting the water. It landed harmlessly on either side of him, then dried up instantly.
"Armani," Crowley said, gesturing to his suit. He smirked. "Dry clean only."
"So, Father gave you the ability to part the waters, did He?" Lucifer said to Crowley. "That's hilarious."
"I thought so, too," Crowley replied, his casual tone matching Lucifer's.
"Well, I have to admit I thought you were going to be on my side," the Devil said, "but that's OK. It'll just make my victory that much more epic. And yes, I didn't exactly expect you to be here, Metatron. But I guess I can kind of see it. After all, to know me is to hate me, right? And we did spend a lot of time together in an intimate setting, didn't we?"
Then Lucifer looked at Sam and Dean. "Wow. I can't believe they talked you guys into this. Sammy, your therapy bills are gonna be huge, going forward. Or, you could just check yourself back into the mental hospital and avoid the middleman. And, Dean? Are you ever taking a chance, here. With your track record, I'd say Heaven's a long shot."
"Do it, Sam," Cas said through clenched teeth.
But Sam hesitated. Lucifer had gotten in his head now. What if their plan didn't work? He glanced over at Gail. Cas missed it, because his eyes were focused on Lucifer. But Lucifer saw it, and he grinned. "What are you looking at her for, Sam? She's your friend's wife, or didn't you get the memo? Unless...are the two of you sneaking around behind Castiel's back? Oh, please tell me that you are. That would be excellent! I always knew Gail was a little slut, deep down. I knew she liked her men big, but this is ridiculous. Hey, Cas, I could find out for you, if you want." Lucifer started walking towards the spot where Sam and Dean were standing, inside the five-pointed star of the Tablets. "I'll tell you what," Lucifer continued, extending his arm slowly. "I'll use the two-finger system on Sam to find out. That's what you call it, isn't that right, Gail? Then I'll find out for sure, Cas. I'll see what kinds of disgusting thoughts he's got in his head about your wife, just before I fry his brain. Then you can decide if you want to bother killing him."
"Do it now, Sam!" Cas shouted. But still, Sam hesitated. Lucifer had reached the outer edge of the Tablets now. A couple more steps and he would be inside the circle. "Give me back my blade," Lucifer snarled.
"Do it," Dean said to his brother. "It's OK, Sammy. It'll be OK."
"I love you, Dean," Sam said, and the knife came down.
METATRON - WE COULD BE HEROES
As soon as Sam stabbed Dean in the chest, all hell broke loose.
Lucifer was thrown backwards, away from the brothers, as if he had touched a highly charged electric fence. He yelled in surprise and pain.
Dean collapsed onto the ground. Sam pulled the knife out of his brother's chest and, as he did, Dean's blood flew off the blade and sprayed onto the Tablets. The stone of the Tablets began to liquefy, and the pools that were created ran together off to the side, where the Originals stood. The liquid rose from the ground and began to form a square. Then it started to crisscross, forming lattice for the bars of the cage.
Sam fell to his knees sobbing, holding his brother in his arms. Cas and Gail glanced at him with compassion, but they had a job to do now. Cas took the candlesticks out from his inside jacket pocket. He held one and passed the other to Gail. The Angels had their blades in their other hands, and Crowley and Metatron held theirs as all four of them moved to where Lucifer lay on the ground.
"Get in the cage, or die," Castiel said. "Your choice."
Lucifer looked at him dispassionately. "Your dialogue needs work, Cas. Maybe Metatron could help you with that." He rose slowly from the ground. "So, here we are," Lucifer said to the group. "Who wants to go first?"
"I will," Cas said, almost cheerfully. He extended the candlestick towards Lucifer. "But since you don't like my dialogue, I'll let this do my talking for me."
Lucifer was backing away from him, but suddenly, Gail was behind the Devil, holding out her own candlestick. "You're done," she told him. "Get in that cage. Now."
"Has anybody ever told you that you're bossy?" Lucifer said to Gail, but he was cringing. "Does she use that tone at home with you, Cas?"
The Angels were too close, and the power emanating from the candlesticks was too strong, so Lucifer winked over to the cemetery just outside the church. He'd tried to leave the site but had found himself unable to. Whatever force had been created by the chain of events was obviously strong enough to bind him to the hallowed ground. But then, he'd known that would be the case all along, hadn't he?
Crowley moved forward now. "You're extremely lucky," he told Lucifer, brandishing his blade. "If it was up to me, I would just kill you, and have done with it."
"Then why don't you?" Lucifer scoffed. "Oh, that's right. You can't. You may be powerful, but you're not me." He threw his arms out, and Crowley went staggering backwards. Then Lucifer started to move his arms again but stopped dramatically, mid-gesture. "Today's your lucky day. You may be useful to me. Therefore, I'll let you live," Lucifer said to Crowley. He waggled a couple of fingers and Crowley went sailing through the graveyard, and onto the back steps of the church. His blade went flying out of his hand, making a clattering sound.
"There. You can be first in line for confession," Lucifer shouted. "With your history, they'll need the extra time." He grinned. That had been pretty funny, actually.
And now here came little Gail, with her weapons in hand and a determined look on her face. God, she was cute. "Look at you, peeing with the big dogs," Lucifer said fondly. "I'm really going to hate to have to kill you. You've been a lot of fun." Before she got too close, Lucifer waved his arms and knocked her back. She kept her feet, but both the candlestick and her blade went flying out of her hands.
"Any touching last words for your husband, before I squash you like a bug?" Lucifer asked Gail, raising his arm again. The green beam shot out.
"No! I won't let you!" Metatron exclaimed. He jumped in front of Gail, taking the hit in the middle of his chest. He fell to the ground as Gail glared at Lucifer. She raised her arms, and the golden beams came out. But they couldn't touch Lucifer, and then she realized: he was shielded. Crap. She bent down and grabbed Metatron by one arm, winking him behind one of the tombstones in the graveyard. "Stay there till you recover," she said to him, but he clutched at her.
"I'm not going to recover," Metatron said in a strangled voice. "My organs are shutting down."
"Then smoke out," Gail said. "You can use me or Cas until we can get you a new vessel."
"No," he said, clutching at her again. "This is my atonement. That's the way I wrote it, and that's the way it has to be. I owed you, Gail. For Vegas, and for that whole Demon delusion thing. And I owed Cas too. And, let's face it, I owe the whole human race. I'm sorry, Gail. I'm so very, very sorry. Be kind to each other."
Then he closed his eyes, and then, he died.
"Stay there!" Cas yelled at Gail. He was advancing on Lucifer now, gripping his blade and the candlestick with white-knuckled hands. He was enraged. If it hadn't been for Metatron's sacrifice, Gail would be dead right now. Cas knew that Metatron was dead, because he had felt the light of an Original extinguishing. Thank God he could see Gail now, or he would have been terrified that it was her.
"He's got the shielding up!" she shouted back. "Throw me my blade!"
Lucifer threw his arms out in Cas's direction, but luckily, Cas had bent down at that same moment to pick Gail's blade up from the ground, so Lucifer's salvo passed right over him. Gail breathed a sigh of relief. Cas began to straighten up. "Throw it!" she shouted again. "Throw it, so I can break the shielding!"
As Cas rose to his full height, the green beam of light that Lucifer had hurled at him bounced off the cage with a loud PING! sound. It ricocheted off the metal and hit Cas in the back, knocking him to his knees. He had been in the act of throwing Gail's blade to her, and his toss fell short. She ran out from behind the tombstone to pick it up.
Cas tried to shout to her to take cover, but he couldn't seem to catch his breath, all of a sudden. He clutched at his chest as Lucifer advanced on him.
The Devil began to smile slowly. "The great Castiel, on his knees in front of me. Wow. It's about time," he said gleefully. "Maybe if you worship me while you're down there, I'll let your wife live. She can be one of my concubines. But don't worry, Cas. It won't be so bad. I plan to have a huge harem." He moved his hand, and slash marks began to appear on Cas's arms, neck, and face. "See, I don't need my blade," Lucifer sneered. "I can take care of you with one hand tied behind my back. What's the matter, Cas? Feeling a little short of breath, there?"
Castiel was lightheaded, gasping for air. He could feel the pain of all the cuts that Lucifer was inflicting on him, but those didn't bother him as much as the feeling that he was drowning in oxygen. And Lucifer's shot had been deflected, thereby losing some impact. Imagine if it had hit him full-on. Metatron must have died in utter agony.
Gail was advancing on Lucifer from behind him, eroding his shield with the golden rays coming out of her blade. It was working, slowly, but he was still approaching her husband, and still inflicting wounds on him. She had to get Lucifer's attention away from Cas.
"Hey!" she yelled at the Devil. "You want me for your harem? Well, I'm right here! Come and get me!"
Lucifer stopped walking and rolled his eyes. "I'll be with you in a minute, honey. The men are talking right now." He turned around and flicked his arm, blasting her off her feet. The wind was knocked out of her, but she continued to train her blade on Lucifer from the ground, thinning out the shielding around him.
The temporary distraction had enabled Cas to make a bit of a recovery. His breathing had improved enough now for him to be able to stagger to his feet, and he threw a couple of blue rays at Lucifer to get the Devil's attention away from Gail.
"There, that's better," Lucifer said. "At least you're putting up a bit of a fight now. Do you want a few more seconds, Cas?" He waved his hand, opening up some more cuts on Cas's body. "Oops. Did I do that?"
Cas plodded forward stubbornly. The candlestick and his blade had dropped from his hands when he'd been knocked down, but he couldn't worry about those now. He had seen the shield around Lucifer cracking as Gail kept up the pressure with her golden beams. Cas prayed silently for her to continue what she was doing. Another minute ought to do it. She was so brave. The cuts that Lucifer was inflicting on Castiel were painful, of course, but they were nothing he hadn't experienced before, many times. But that shortness of breath, that sinking, drowning feeling? That had definitely been new. Thank God the force of the blow had been slowed down by the cage. And bless Gail for buying Cas those extra few seconds to regroup.
But Lucifer had drawn himself up to his full height now, and his arms were waving faster. A cut opened up on Cas's forehead and the blood that spurted from it ran into Cas's eye, impairing his vision. His next couple of shots missed Lucifer altogether. The Devil threw his head back and laughed out loud, creating a booming sound that made the birds that were flying overhead fall dead from the sky.
Gail was on her hands and knees now, and she could see that Cas was flagging. She had to do something. Yelling for Lucifer's attention wouldn't be good enough; he could just keep knocking her down with one hand and attacking Cas with the other. She looked at the birds falling dead on the ground, and then the idea hit her.
She ran to the church steps where Crowley lay, still dazed from Lucifer's attack. "Make me an animal!" she exclaimed. "A lion, or a tiger! A big one!"
He looked at her blankly, and then he started to smile. "Good thinking, sweetheart," Crowley said approvingly. "Here, help me sit up."
Gail knelt down by his side. She put her hand on his back and helped him sit up.
"I didn't need the help, it was just an excuse to have you touch me," Crowley smirked.
Gail rolled her eyes. "Oh, har har. Make with the cat, quick."
Crowley waved his arms and conjured up a large white tiger. "Nice touch," Gail said, nudging him. She waved her hands at the beast, "Go get the Devil," Gail said to it. The tiger roared, and then it bounded over to where Lucifer stood, leaping on his back.
Lucifer was knocked off balance, and he fell to the ground. The tiger pounced on him, its huge jaws snapping at his neck. But then Lucifer snapped his fingers and the tiger exploded, sending blood and bits of flesh flying.
Cas was even bloodier now because he'd been standing so close, and now Lucifer was covered in blood, as well. But it was Cas who had all the injuries, and Lucifer was sitting up now.
"Come on, let's get him," Gail said to Crowley, tugging on his arm.
"I don't think so, sweetheart," he said to her, shaking his head.
"What? What do you mean?" she exclaimed.
He nodded towards the graveyard, where Metatron's body lay. "That's not going to be me," he told her. "I'm much more selfish than that."
"Yes, you are, and you're a coward, too!" Gail shouted angrily. She let go of him and rose to her feet. "Fine! Who needs you? Why don't you just go back to Hell, then?"
Gail ran towards where Cas and Lucifer were facing off. But even as she did so, she wondered what the hell they were supposed to do now. They'd thrown everything they had at Lucifer, and he didn't have a scratch on him. She didn't think he'd even broken a sweat. Still, there was no way she was going down without a fight. She waved her blade at him a few more times, and the shielding finally broke.
"Well, good for you," Lucifer sneered. "Finally, a useful skill. Although, I was going to ask you to clean me up, too. This mess is your fault," he added, indicating the blood all over himself. "Charlie Sheen would probably like all this tiger blood, but I don't think it's a good look for me." Lucifer looked at Cas, and then back at Gail again. "See, this is what happens when you send Angels to do a job. If you had just killed me right away instead of trying to put me back in the cage, none of this would be happening. Now Dean Winchester is dead, and so is Metatron, and I'm about to take over everything." Lucifer waved his hands dramatically, inflicting wounds on the husband and wife. "Scoot over there and take Cas's hand, honey," Lucifer said to Gail. "Never let it be said that I don't have compassion."
Cas and Gail moved together. They were both doing their best to fend off his blows and inflict some damage of their own, but Lucifer was able to defend himself easily, and they were becoming weaker with every blow he landed.
Still, they were trying to put up a brave front. Cas was attempting to push Gail behind him now, blocking Lucifer's salvos with his body. "You're taking over nothing," Cas said to Lucifer, but Cas was grimacing in pain now.
"Really?" Lucifer said, smiling. "And who's going to stop me?"
"I am," Sam said. He pressed the golden candlesticks into Lucifer's back, and the Devil screamed in pain. He whirled around. "Sammy! My old bum-buddy!" Lucifer exclaimed. "How's Dean? Awwww. Too soon?" He snapped his fingers, and the candlesticks fell out of Sam's hands. "That's fine. I can take on all three of you," Satan said, shrugging. He waved his hand again and Sam fell to his knees, bleeding from his eyes and ears.
"This is too easy," Lucifer taunted them. "Too bad there's nobody here that's more capable of putting up a fight."
"Maybe there is," Crowley said. He suddenly appeared in front of Lucifer, stabbing the Devil in the stomach with the back-up blade he'd stashed in his other pocket before he'd left Hell. "Oh, look at that. Somebody's sprung a leak." Crowley looked down at Sam. "Hand me his blade, would you, Moose? There's a good lad." Not waiting for a response, he took the blade from Sam's pocket. Crowley looked up at Lucifer, one Angel blade in each of his hands. "You were right," Crowley said to him. "Never send an Angel to do a Demon's job." He plunged Lucifer's own blade into his chest, all the way up to the hilt. "That's for making me get blood on my suit," Crowley quipped.
Lucifer was livid. He reached out and grabbed Crowley by his throat. "You little troll," he rasped. "I'm going to do what our Father should have done to you years ago, and then I'm gonna do it to your Brother, too. God should have just put Eve on the Pill." He started to choke Crowley, and because the King's airway was blocked, Crowley couldn't smoke out.
But while Lucifer was occupied with trying to choke the life out of Crowley, Cas and Gail gave each other a nod. They rushed forward, waving their arms, and hit Lucifer with both barrels. The Devil's hold on Crowley lessened, and the King of Hell stepped back, coughing. He looked at Cas. "Here," Crowley said. He reached into his inside pocket and took out Cas's blade. "I believe you dropped something." He handed the blade to Cas, who gave him a nod. Cas took the blade and stuck Lucifer in the side with it, pulling upwards to create a larger wound.
As the Devil roared in pain and fury, Crowley handed Gail the Demon knife he'd stashed in his other pocket before he had left Hell. Just in case. "Don't ever call me the c-word again," Crowley quipped, and she flashed him a grin. She took the knife and stuck it in Lucifer's other side, pulling upwards as Cas had done.
Lucifer fell to his knees. "All right, all right," he pleaded, throwing his hands up in supplication. "I'll go in the cage."
"Oh, NOW you're willing to go in the cage," Cas said sarcastically. He slashed at Lucifer with his blade. "Well, maybe it's too late for that. Maybe my Brother had the right idea all along."
"I could give you anything you want," Lucifer said to Cas. "Anything. I could make Gail immortal."
"She already is, you assbutt," Cas retorted. Sam was rising slowly to his feet now, and the younger Winchester made a sound that was a half-laugh, half-sob. "That was for Dean," Cas added, "and so is this." He stabbed Lucifer again.
Gail stabbed Lucifer with the Demon knife. "So is this, and it's also for the thousands of people you killed, just because you felt like it."
Lucifer looked up at her, squinting through the blood that was now running down his face. "I could tell you who your real parents are, and help you deal with your father," Lucifer said to her, trying to grin. "You think I"M a son of a bitch? You have no idea."
She slashed at him again. "I'll find that out without your help," she said harshly. "Caging is too good for you."
"Now you're talking, sweetheart," Crowley said, nodding his approval to her. He looked down at Lucifer, holding his Brother's blade high. "Well? What are you going to offer ME?" Crowley asked sardonically. "And I'm warning you, it had better be good."
"I can give you the secrets of the Tablets," Lucifer pleaded with the King.
"I can bloody well read, you know," Crowley snapped. But then, he remembered that the stone Tablets had been destroyed during the construction of the cage. Then he shrugged. "Who cares? You'll be gone, anyway. That's the point of this whole exercise."
"How about the Books?" Lucifer wheedled. "Surely you're interested in the Books."
"The Books?" Crowley repeated. "What Books?"
"THE Books," Lucifer replied. "The Book of Life, and the Book of the Dead."
Crowley's arm paused in its downward motion. "What have the Tablets got to do with those?" he asked the Devil.
"Spare me, and you'll find out," Lucifer countered.
Cas waved his blade, gesturing. "He doesn't know anything about the Books. He's just saying that so we'll let him live."
"No, I'm not. I swear," Lucifer whined. He looked from Demon to Angel and back again. "There are clues on those Tablets, clues on how to find the Books."
"Oh, how would you know?" Cas said irritably.
"I know because I'm the one who wrote the Tablets in the first place!" Lucifer exclaimed.
Now Cas paused. He was astonished. Was that true?
"It's the truth, I swear, my Brothers," Lucifer told them. "Metatron wasn't the original Scribe of God. I was. When our Father banished me, He picked Metatron to finish the job. But by then, I'd already written those Tablets. When God confiscated my blade, He told me that if I ever got free, it and those Tablets would some day be my undoing. So you see, I know all about the ancient writings. Whoever holds the Books holds the key to it all."
Crowley was thinking about that now. He glanced over at the cage. "Perhaps we should reconsider the original plan," he said to the Angels.
"I see that look in your eyes," Castiel said to the King. "No. You're not getting your hands on those Books."
"Oh, and I suppose we'd all be better off if they were in YOUR hands?" Crowley scoffed. "You don't do very well with that kind of power, or have you forgotten?"
Gail rolled her eyes. Great. As if they didn't have enough problems, now the two of them were arguing.
But Lucifer was grinning now. This was more like it. If he could pit the brothers against each other, he might just get out of this, yet.
"I'll work for whichever of you wants it the most," Lucifer said slyly, looking from one man to the other. "Come on, Crowley, stick that Angel blade in Castiel now, while you have the chance. Look what you've done to me. You're on a roll. Then you can be the Alpha. You can kill Gail too, or screw her, if you want. We all know you've always wanted to do that."
"No, how about if we just kill YOU, instead?" Sam yelled. "Then maybe you'll finally just shut the hell up!"
The Angels and the Demon gaped at Sam. While they had been preoccupied with Lucifer's manipulations, the younger Winchester had been looking around wildly, trying to figure out what to do to help them. He was only a human, and they all had otherworldly powers, yet Lucifer was still breathing. And the longer the Devil talked, the more danger there was that he could regain the upper hand. Sam had run over to the church to see if there was anything he could grab there that hadn't been tried yet, to use as a weapon. Then he saw it. There was a statue near the front steps of the building. A statue of an Angel, holding a sword. How ironic was that? He ran to it and, to his amazement, he was able to detach the sword from the sculpture, using just his hands. A little divine intervention, maybe?
Sam grabbed the sword and ran back over to where the group was. He heard Lucifer exhorting Crowley to kill Cas, and Sam was enraged. They'd already lost Dean today; there was no way they were losing Cas, too. Sam didn't care if Crowley had helped them out a minute ago; he didn't like the look of cool speculation on Crowley's face when he was looking at Cas with an Angel blade in his hand.
So Sam shouted in anger and strode forward, gripping the sword tightly in both hands. He swung with all his might and chopped Lucifer's head off at the neck. It went flying in the direction of the cage. As soon as the decapitated head struck the cage's bars, the cage collapsed, and Lucifer's head and body disappeared.
The surviving quartet stood there for a moment, stunned, weapons in hand. Cas and Gail were glaring at Crowley. He lowered Lucifer's blade and gave them a half-shrug. "I never said I was going to bloody DO it," the King mumbled irritably. Castiel held his hand out, and Crowley stared at it. "What?" he said.
"Give me the blade," Cas said. Gail picked up her own blade and waved her hand, cleaning it and putting it in her pocket. Then she stooped to pick up Metatron's blade off the ground and did the same thing with it, and with the Demon knife that Crowley had handed to her to stab Lucifer with.
"I think not," Crowley said. He was looking around for his own blade now. He saw it lying on the ground, close to the church steps. He snapped his fingers, and it was in his hand. He looked at Lucifer's dirty blade with distaste but put it and his own blade in his inside jacket pocket, along with the back-up blade. "Well, it's been...interesting," Crowley said. He looked at Sam. "Believe it or not, I am very sorry about Dean. You have my condolences. I'm sure I'll be seeing you all again though, very soon." He snapped his fingers again and disappeared.
Gail ran over to where Dean lay on the battlefield. She fell to her knees and moved her hands over his body, but it was too late, of course. She cried out in frustration. How unfair was that? Dean was dead, Metatron was dead, Lucifer was gone, and the cage they'd worked so hard and sacrificed so much to build was laying in a broken heap on the ground.
"I'm sorry, Dean," Gail sobbed over his body. Sam and Cas came over to where she was, and they looked at each other. "I'll be right back," Cas said quietly. He popped over to where Metatron's body lay behind the tombstone, but it was gone, too. Then he heard a noise, and he looked up to see the remnants of the cage disintegrating.
Meanwhile, Sam had dropped the bloody sword on the ground and he put his hands on Gail's shoulders, bringing her to her feet. He put his arms around her, hugging her to him, and they cried together, seeking comfort from each other. Cas came over to where they stood and picked up the sword, inspecting it. Even though Sam had decapitated Lucifer with it, the sword was inexplicably clean of any blood. Castiel popped back over to the church steps and replaced the sword in the Angel's hand, then returned to where his wife and their friend stood. Only then did Cas look down at Dean. A tear squeezed out of his eye and rolled down his cheek. He bent down, picking Dean's body gently up off the ground. "Let's get you home," Cas said to his friend softly. Then he and Gail winked the Winchesters away from there.
Richard finished reading the scene that Ted had e-mailed to him and sat back in his chair, awestruck. He actually had goosebumps. This was Ted's finest work yet. Richard could picture the whole scene in his mind. He was already thinking about camera angles. This was going to be the most dramatic, ambitious scene they had ever filmed. It had everything. Action, drama, suspense, blood, and tears. Ted was a master. Dean couldn't stay dead, of course, but Richard found himself wondering what Ted had in mind to bring him back. Metatron hadn't written that scene yet when he'd departed for Madagascar. He had figured he could cross that bridge when he came back. Unlike Gail, Metatron hadn't sorted that plot twist out yet. But he'd thought that there would be time. The first movie was only in post-production.
Richard reached for his phone to call Ted and congratulate him, and then he remembered that the writer's message had advised that he would be unavailable this morning. Still, the producer tapped out a quick message on his computer congratulating Ted and advising him not to change a single thing about the scene. It was perfect. Then Richard closed the laptop.
