The Man Who Knew Too Little
Chapter 6: by Clubs

Dean heaved a sigh, running his hands through his hair. He had never been much for the research part. That was always Sam with his magical laptop of technological wonders. Or Bobby with his old-as-shit books. Either way, they always did the research while he went to get drunk and have sex with random women. Because otherwise he just sat and complained about having to do research until Sam let him leave. That was the way things were. And when it came to things like this, Dean hated change.

"This is bull." He said, slamming the musty book he had in front of him shut, a rather large cloud of dust billowing up in his face and making him cough when he did so. Sam sighed, the sort of sigh that usually signified the beginning of a long and boring lecture about patience and perseverance and some other shit that Dean never listened to.

"Dean..."

"We are not finding a damn thing here, Sammy. And you know why? Because there is nothing to find." The elder Winchester had stood up at this point and begun pacing around Bobby's living room. Sam almost rolled his eyes. Here we go again...

"Dean I think..."

"And where the hell is Gabriel? That sorry son of a bitch better not have skipped town."

"Oh Dean, your words pierce through me like an archangel blade to the heart." Both the Winchesters turned to Gabriel, who was standing in the doorway. Though his words were sarcastic as usual, he looked solemn, even worried.

"Gabriel, where were..." Sam began, but the youngest archangel cut him off.

"You need to let me in." Sam and Dean stared at him.

"Pardon?" Dean asked.

"The Panic Room. You need to let me in the Panic Room, dimwits." Gabriel said impatiently. Dean's eyes narrowed, suddenly full of suspicion.

"Why?" it was less of a question and more of a demand. Gabriel got that worried look again.

"There's something wrong. I...he needs help."

"Who, Lucifer? If you think I'm gonna let him out..." Again, Gabriel refused to wait through what was being said and cut Dean off rather violently.

"It's my fault!"

There was a long silence after the Trickster's outburst. Mostly because the brothers were speechless. They had seen Gabriel pissed, and on rare occasions worried or upset, but never had they actually seen him shed a tear. Yet there it was, sliding shamelessly down his face. He seemed to be taking a second to regain his composure.

"It's my fault. Our fault. Michael, Raphael, and I. We did this to him. He didn't betray us, we betrayed him." He said, his voice barely audible. "Now open that god damn door. I want to see my brother."

Sam and Dean were naturally full of questions, mostly consisting of "What the hell are you talking about?"

The look on Gabriel's face stopped them from asking.

"...okay." Sam agreed after a pause. He stood, compassion in his expression as well as confusion. "Okay."

Lucifer did not yell. He did not cry. He did not shout. No, Lucifer screamed.

I am wrong.

"No, no this was them! This was all them!"

This is all my fault. All of it.

"No! No I have no guilt! They all deserved it!"

Everyone I've killed or hurt. Everyone.

"They don't matter! They don't matter!"

I am wrong.

He broke down into sobs, clutching at his head. Why was this happening? Why him? Why?

"Luce?" he looked up at the voice, seeing his brother, seeing Gabriel. His younger sibling was peering down at him, his expression pained and full to the brim with regret.

"Gabe..." he whispered. He was vaguely aware of voices, the sound of someone whispering from behind the Trickster, but he couldn't bring himself to care. "Gabe, why? Why did you betray me? Why am I so wrong?"

"I am so sorry." Gabriel whispered back, "I didn't know what I was doing. None of us did. It was him. It was always him. That dickface took our memories. He turned us against you. I'm sorry."

"What's wrong with me?" Lucifer asked. Gabriel sighed. That was the $64 question.

"I don't know Lucy, I don't know."

The frightening part for Dean was not that the Devil was having a mental breakdown in the basement. What frightened him was how reminiscent it was of when the wall in Sam's mind had been knocked down. He really didn't want to think about anything that connected his brother with The Morningstar (still kind of a touchy subject for them all), but it was seriously creeping him out. Which is why he had decided to not stick around after letting Gabriel in. Sam hadn't either, but that was more because he wanted to be courteous and give them space. Bobby, who had been out on a grocery run for the whole ordeal, had simply grunted when the brothers mentioned what was happening with the archangels.

From what they had heard, the humans had gathered that God had in fact played some part in Lucifer's so-called rebellion, perhaps even caused it in the first place. They had also learned that the raving mad deity was to blame for the other archangels going against Lucifer as well.

This new information only served to make them even more alert and wary about what the Creator was doing. They hadn't yet heard of anything out of the ordinary (at least, nothing that would point to where God was or what his plans were), and were assuming that this was probably just the calm before the storm. Especially considering that there had been no sign of the other two archangels, and therefore it was fair to assume that they had joined with their father. Which was unfortunate, if predictable. The only question now was when they would show.

And, Dean realized as he thought about it, if they'll have any help from their Holy Army of Dicks. He hadn't even thought of that before. What were the angels up in heaven doing? Did they even care? Were they unaware of the fuckery that was happening with their more powerful brothers and father? Somehow that didn't seem possible.

Gabriel reappeared in the doorway to the basement and the Panic Room.

"Well?" Sam prompted him. The Messenger looked at him, then stepped out of the doorway, revealing a figure behind him. Lucifer stumbled slightly, and his face was covered with dull sheen of sweat. He had to grab onto Gabriel's arm for support, and his brother automatically pulled an arm around his shoulders to steady him.

Dean tensed, standing at the sight of the fallen angel.

"Why the hell did you let him out?" he asked, anger and mistrust obvious in his tone. Gabriel turned his gaze towards the older Winchester, his expression returning the hostility.

"What, did Cas forget your eyes when he brought you back from Hell?" he returned coldly. "Or was it just your brain? He needs help. Does this look like much of a threat to you?" he jerked his head towards the whimpering Morningstar. Dean's lips hardened into a thin line.

"Dean," Sam spoke up, looking at Lucifer with wary but concerned eyes, "maybe we should help him." When his brother greeted this suggestion with a disbelieving look, he sighed. "Dean, use your brain. If this does come down to a fight, like it or not, we're gonna need him. The odds already don't look good, even if he's battle-ready. Without him, we don't stand a chance."

Dean ran his hands through his hair, sucking in a breath through his teeth.

"Fine." He finally said, though he didn't look at all happy about it. "What's wrong with him?"

Gabriel led his older brother to a chair, letting him collapse into it. The Trickster took a deep breath, letting it out in a huff.

"Long story." He said, and the Winchesters immediately took their seats, getting comfortable as possible. Bobby, who had just come back from the kitchen with a beer in hand, turned around again. He was probably going to need another one for this.

"So all this, the whole Michael and Lucifer betrayal, the Apocalypse, it was all God's doing? All of it?" Sam asked Gabriel, who nodded solemnly.

"We were all used like the pawns we were supposed to be." He laughed once, but there wasn't much humor in it. "I knew he was a dick..."

Dean, who was pacing, shook his head. He was still skeptical. As usual.

"But why the killing? Why all the Devil stuff? If Mr. King of Hell here is really the nice guy, how do you explain all that crap?" Bobby, who rolled his eyes at Dean's questioning, spared Gabriel from answering.

"Well why do you think? Guy was in Hell for millions of years. Surface time. How d'you think that translates to Hell time?"

"You barely survived forty years down there, shit-for-brains." Gabriel pointed out. "Try to imagine four hundred. Or four thousand. Four million. Can you picture that? 'Cause I sure as fuck can't."

"Okay! Okay! I get it!" Dean said, raising his hands in surrender and retreating into a corner.

"So, how do we fix it?" Sam asked. Though he would need more time to get used to thinking of Lucifer as an ally rather than an enemy, after hearing his full story, he couldn't help but want to do something for him.

There was silence. The Trickster had no answer.

"Oh, great. So we just wasted an hour of our lives on a sob story that's not gonna do us any good." Bobby said, finishing the last of his beer in one swig.

"If you have any ideas, old man, I'd love to hear 'em." Gabriel snapped back. There was silence after this retort, as they all tried to think of something, anything that could help at all. They were all drawing up blanks. Until Dean spoke up from his corner.

"Well couldn't you do some angel mojo on his head? Put up a wall or something? Isn't that what your dad did you all of you?"

Gabriel considered it.

"Actually...that just might work." He turned to Lucifer, who had remained, tense and shaking, in his chair throughout the whole conversation. The younger archangel kneeled over him, reaching out two fingers, which he placed on the Morningstar's forehead.

Taking a deep breath, Gabriel dove headfirst into the hectic and torn apart mind of the Devil himself.

The former Trickster opened his eyes. He looked around him. This was just a visual representation that his own mind had conjured up to make sense of being in someone else's head, but he found it amusing that he was still in his vessel. His surroundings were a swirling mass of colors and shapes that kept changing. He had had enough experience with this sort of thing to know that which direction he went and how far he went in that direction would determine what he would find. What memories, what thoughts. And though he was a little out of practice, he also knew how to hone in on one specific thing in order to find it. Right now there was a faint pull slightly to the right, so he turned and began walking.

He watched some of his surroundings solidify as he walked, showing a memory from early in Lucifer's life. He passed it quickly, but he caught the feel of joy radiating from it, and saw a glimpse of Michael through his brother's eyes. His heart felt heavy as the memory disappeared into the haze again, and he continued, feeling the pull get stronger.

He did his best to ignore the other memories he passed as he walked to his intended destination, but he couldn't help but catch glimpses of them. He couldn't decide whether the ones from Lucifer's childhood, where he was more innocent and carefree than Gabriel had ever seen him before, or the ones from his time in the Cage were worse. The guilt was enormous for both, and he found himself almost running, desperate to get out as fast as possible.

The memories and thoughts around him became more and more hectic and confusing as he came closer and closer to where he was trying to go, tinted with the unmistakable tang of insanity. Gabriel flinched as he passed them. They were all going to need serious therapy after this was over...

Finally he found it, and he breathed a sigh of relief. The relief didn't last long when he saw what it was that he was looking for.

It was Lucifer, curled into a ball and shaking with sobs as screams echoed around him, almost but not quite drowning out the person standing over him, shouting accusations at him. After a moment, Gabriel registered that the person yelling, the person hurling insults at the prone figure, was Lucifer himself.

"You are wrong, Lucifer. You are a vile, putrid thing." he was saying, in a tone that made Gabriel shudder involuntarily. "You've hurt so many people. You don't deserve your sanity. You deserved Hell. You should go back. Go back and take your punishment forever."

Whenever the accusing Lucifer paused, distant echoes of dying people picked up. The Lucifer on the floor shook harder, shaking his head but unable to say anything.

Gabriel watched, horrifyingly fascinated, before he reminded himself why he was here. He had to help his brother.

"Lucifer!" he called, and the accusing one looked up, glaring at the interruption. The screams died down just a little. The one curled into a ball slowly uncurled a bit, turning around as well and looking at the new arrival with a mixture of fear and hope in his eyes. Gabriel walked closer.

"What are you doing here?" the one on the floor asked in a low, cracked voice.

"He's here to bring you pain. He still thinks you betrayed him and your brothers and he wants you to suffer for it." The standing Lucifer said. Gabriel realized that he must not be able to talk to Gabriel directly. He was just an influence over the real Lucifer.

"No I'm not. I'm here to help you. I remember. I remember everything now and I'm sorry. But you can't listen to this dickwad." He said, gesturing to the standing Lucifer, who snarled at him, but didn't say anything.

"But it's all my fault..." the one on the floor murmured, looking ready to curl back up again. Gabriel kneeled down beside him as he reached him.

"No, it's not. It's mine. It's Michael's. It's Raphael's. It's God's. But it is not. Your. Fault."

"But..."

"Lucifer. Listen to me. I'll have plenty of time to win this argument later. But right now we need you. We can't do this without you. Please just believe me. Just once. Just until this is all over. You are not a bad person, and it's not your fault."

Lucifer didn't answer for a long while, looking uncertainly into Gabriel's sincere eyes. Finally the smallest of smiles formed on his lips, and he nodded. The other Lucifer looked outraged, and about to scream something at them both, but when he tried, his voice sounded like it was far, far away. They couldn't hear what he was saying, even as he shouted himself hoarse.

It was a start. He wasn't gone yet, but at least he wouldn't be bothering Lucifer for a while. They could deal with this when they weren't in serious shit.

"Alright." Lucifer said, standing up with Gabriel. "Now get the hell outta my head. We've got a dick to kill."

"You sure you're good?"

"No. But what other choice do I have?"

It was a valid point so Gabriel withdrew, making a vow to finish that other Lucifer off once and for all as soon as this was all over.

When Gabriel opened his eyes, all three hunters were staring at him, looking as uncertain and tense as he had left them.

"Well?" Bobby prompted.

"We're good." The Messenger replied as Lucifer's eyes opened as well. The Winchester's watched the archangel's movements with slight apprehension as he slowly stood, stretching.

"Oh come on Sam, it's not like the whole mental breakdown thing is new to you." He said offhandedly, raising an eyebrow at the younger Winchester, who snorted and looked away, relaxing just a little bit. Dean didn't stop staring at the Morningstar for a few more seconds. Then he turned to Bobby.

"You got any more beer?" he asked, and Bobby rolled his eyes.

"In the fridge. Idjit."

Gabriel would have smiled at the exchange, enjoying Dean being told off, but he was suddenly stiff, eyes wide. He looked at Lucifer, who was also frozen in place, staring at him. They had both felt it, both recognized the presence. There was only one thing this could mean.

"Son of a bitch..." Gabriel muttered.

"What is it?" Sam, who seemed to be the only one there who had noticed the tense archangels.

"Outside." Lucifer answered.

"What?"

"Michael and Raphael are here."

A/N: I am very proud of this chapter. I tried to make them as in-character as possible, but I may have strayed a bit. Oh well. Either way, here's chapter 6. Sorry for the delay, we've had some school shit to do, which sucks, but whatever. Meh. Hope you like. Sorry for the cliffhanger, but that's just what we do ;)