Sorry I didn't update yesterday. I overslept, had to do some laundry, and then rush to a day-long Christmas party with friends that I haven't seen since Thanksgiving. So, yeah, no time to post. I'm also going to take a break from posting for a couple of days due to the holidays, just to spend time with my family and let readers who've seemingly dropped off the face of the earth *glares at you* play catch-up. Happy holidays!
Sam slammed his hand down on the cheap motel desk. Dean and Castiel watched him from the bed with mild interest, the latter flinching slightly at the sound. "What are we gonna do?" the younger hunter muttered. "And what the Hell did that thing mean? Son?"
Castiel sighed, tired eyes watching him from under a lowered brow. "The Devil is the father of lies, Sam. You'll do well to remember that. He knew just what to say to scare you and distract us. You're not the threat here. He is."
"Yeah, so what are we gonna do about it?" Dean asked. "Besides getting sent to Hell."
"Lies, Dean," Cas said. "More lies. Sam is the master of his own destiny, you are more than a hellhound's chew toy, and fallen angels don't automatically go to Hell. God is merciful. I thought you both had realized that by now. We need to concentrate on the task at hand. We need to figure out how to stop Lucifer."
"Well, that'll be easy. Let me just grab my copy of Stopping the Apocalypse for Dummies."
"Humor," the former angel observed. "That's cute. You know, it'll be hard to hide behind a smile when Hell comes to earth. When innocent people are filleted alive because we failed to act. We're the only ones who know he's here, Dean. We need to do something."
"Fine, then. Let's go find him. Take the fight to him, exorcise his ass back to Hell."
"It can't be that easy," Sam argued. "We're looking at the original demon, here. The one that started it all. An angel that fell from Heaven and was locked away in Hell to rule. And did you see what he did to Lilith? I mean, he doesn't even need to possess a body, Dean, he made one all on his own. The guy's a power-player if we ever faced one."
"So what do we do?" Dean asked. "Just wait and see what happens?"
"We wait for higher orders," Castiel said. "Wait and see what God commands."
"You really think God wants our help?"
"Why would He not?"
Dean looked like he was going to speak, his mouth opening for a second before closing just as fast. He shook his head, turning away from the other two men to look at the wall.
"Dean," Cas prodded.
"Two months and we haven't heard God's orders," he muttered. "And now Lucifer's walkin' free? I doubt we're a top priority."
Blue eyes narrowed, as if trying to see into the older hunter's soul. "Dean?" A hand reached out, settling lightly on a leather-clad shoulder. Dean's body tensed momentarily before relaxing again, a small sigh escaping his lips.
Sam watched the scene from his place at the small table, wanting to help, but hesitant to intrude. Two months. Nearly two months they'd been without any Heavenly guidance or assistance, and now he was seeing the result of that. He thought it odd that he hadn't noticed before, hadn't seen the tension in his brother's shoulders, the uncertainty in his eyes, the shuffle in his step.
Dean opened his mouth. His jaw hung there, unhinged, silent for a moment. "I-"
All three men jumped as something began pounding roughly against the door. Three heads turned, three sets of eyes trained on the flimsy piece of wood, the salt line they all knew wouldn't keep anything too evil out.
They stood, he brothers rising first, their motions in synch from years of practice and tandem training, years of running and necessity. Castiel followed their lead, followed them to the shaking door, followed fluid motions with newly-honed movements of his own and wide eyes.
Two useless guns, one hand outstretched to the doorknob. No one even mentioned the fact that the free hand was Sam's, that they all knew what he would do with it if the moment came.
The lock turned, the door shuddered, burst open, and Ruby rushed in. The demon's eyes glinted silver, sparkling like something out of a Stephenie Meyer novel as they roved over the hunters. Sam's hand was still held toward her.
"Please," she muttered, breathless. "I made a mistake."
"Understatement of the year," Dean growled, training his gun on her.
"No," she gasped. Her hands were out, palms up, a sign of false innocence. "Please. I didn't think. I was scared. I want to help."
"Like you wanted to help me?" Sam asked. All eyes turned from the demon to the taller hunter, toward the cold sound of his voice, the lack of emotion. "Because this really helps, Ruby. I'm definitely feeling the love."
"You didn't just think she'd let me out, did you?"
"Give me one good reason not to vaporize you right now."
"He's gonna kill you." She sighed. "All of you. Tonight."
"And why should we believe you?" Dean asked, eyes sliding back to the traitor in their midst. "After all, I thought it was more fun to watch us squirm till the end?"
"Because the Devil lies," Castiel said. "He twists and bends the truth as all demons do. He lures you into a false sense of security and then attacks when you feel safest. Isn't that right?"
Ruby nodded. "He wants to get you all out of the way. He doesn't want anyone to stop him."
"Stop him from doing what?"
"Regaining Heaven."
"What?" Sam asked, finally dropping his hand. "Can he do that?"
"He seems to think so," Ruby said. "He wouldn't stop talking about it, said he'd had time to think, found a flaw in the Grand Design or something. He found a way to go back. He's gonna kill you and then we're going to Pontiac-"
"Illinois?" Dean asked. The demon nodded. "Why there?"
"I don't know. He won't tell me. Just said something about God being too trusting. Something about justice being served. I was scared, all right."
"You wanted this."
"I wanted freedom." She stepped forward, coming closer to the loaded gun that was still pointed at her chest, her courage returning in the company of familiar faces that couldn't send her back to Hell without a bit of concentration. "It's what everyone down there wants. You should know that, Dean."
"I never would have sold out the entire human race for a shiny new set of peepers. It's not worth it."
"It's a moot point. Someone else wanted you out." She glanced at Cas. "He all right?"
Dean flicked his gaze to Castiel, who had dropped his hand, the gun hanging limply at his side. His face had paled, eyes gone wide, mouth hanging slack. "Cas?" No response. "Something wrong?"
"Pontiac." The former angel said, the single word spoken in a labored breath.
"Yeah. You know something? Maybe something in standard English, because I'm really not in the mood for some cryptic 'the beginning is the end' crap right now."
Cas shook his head. "Pontiac, Illinois is the place where-"
Ruby began to scream. Weapons and hands were raised, bodies tensed. The demon wailed, her voice rising in pitch as her silvery eyes began to glow, to shimmer, to shine and burn and burst into a shower of sparking flame as if she'd suddenly seen an angel.
She fell to the floor, hitting her knees, scratching at the smoking holes where her eyes had once been as her body began to burn slowly, the flames rolling under her tanned skin, charring it from the inside out.
The men stumbled back as the scene played out before them with no obvious cause other than Spontaneous Demon Combustion. Ruby's skin flaked and fell to the ground as her bones caught fire, burning bright through melting muscles. She collapsed face-first, her mouth open in a silent scream, unable to escape her comatose host.
"What the hell was that?" Sam asked as the fire continued to crackle, filling the small room with the sickly-sweet smell of burning flesh.
"That, my dear boy," a voice answered from outside the door, "was disobedience." A figure stepped into view, hovering behind the charred remains of Ruby's final body. He raised his head, violet eyes gleaming from the sunken sockets of his pale face. "That was betrayal. Wish I could say I didn't think she had it in her, but, well, I did. Depended on it, actually. Good thing I followed her, isn't it? She'll be more than welcomed in the Ninth Circle. Need someone to take my place, after all. Can't trust those three numbskulls to punish themselves."
The hunters took another step back, farther into the room, boxing themselves in, keeping their distance. The Devil smiled.
"What?" He asked. "You thought Dante was wrong? That he was tripping on acid? No. He was there." The cold gaze traveled to Dean. "God has let many an innocent man travel to Hell in the name of salvation. Normally, though, He lets them out relatively unscathed. Maybe you're just special. Isn't that what your mommy always said? Still does, if I remember our last conversation correctly."
Dean lowered his head, glaring at the figure standing in the doorway, but didn't speak. He took another step back, to the side, catching sight of his duffle bag. Lucifer followed his gaze.
"What are you looking for, Dean? A rosary? Holy water? A Bible? Because that worked so well when Lilith visited you in your sickness." He stepped over Ruby's corpse, coming to rest just inside the doorway. "I know what you were thinking, Dean. Where was that angel? Well, I can tell you for a fact that he was watching, waiting for you to die. See, Cas here likes falling into Hell." He turned to the former angel. "Felt just like home, didn't it, buddy? Bet you can't wait to go back."
"Get thee behind me, Satan," Castiel growled.
"Like I've never heard that one before." He blinked, turning to Sam, who had raised his hands- one toward the Devil, the other to his own forehead. "Nice try, sport. But it's gonna take a bit more than your magic fingers to get me the Hell outta here."
He sputtered, suddenly, caught off guard as a bottle of holy water was splashed in his face. Immediately following the water was a shotgun shell full of salt to the chest, fired from a close enough angle to knock Lucifer backwards and out the door.
Dean slung his bag over his shoulder and made a beeline for the door. Castiel and Sam followed without hesitation. Staying behind wasn't an option, not with the Devil regaining his balance and wiping the ineffective water from his flashing eyes.
He watched them clamor into the Impala and skid through the parking lot, burning rubber as the trio distanced itself from Hell on Earth. He smiled. They were smarter than he'd thought- smart enough to live another day, at least. If nothing else, they could prove to be fun to play with until the end.
"Just don't go walkin' slow, boys," Lucifer muttered to himself, toeing the smoldering body at his feet with a malicious grin. "The Devil's on the loose."
