Hello wonderful readers and first timers! As I said I am going to be posting these chapters much faster.

This will be much shorter, and sort of a filler chapter that should be a relaxer to the action and the angst and everything that was in the last chapter.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, not even my own soul after trading it in for inspiration for this story.

Enjoy!

Chapter 13:

"Good Morning Vietnam!"

Sam looks on in horror at the teen who is currently swaying back and forth on the balls of his feet. Tracy just looks between the two, confusion evident as she cannot grasp why this kid is bad news, she just knows he is.

"Wait…" she says, "I feel like I'm missing something. Who is this brat?"

"And I thought my reputation preceded me…" the kid says, smirking and starting to come closer. Sam instantly reacts.

"You stay back there!" he shouts, flinging himself in front of Tracy. She tries to move forward, a witty retort already on her tongue, but she can sense how worried Sam is. How scared he is. And for him to be scared… it must really be frightening.

"Manners, Sammy," the kid chides, "at least say 'please'! Didn't your mother teach you… oops. I forgot."

"How did you escape?" Sam asks, eyes never leaving the other, aware of what he can and will do if given the chance. The devilish boy has a smarmy remark on the tip of his forked tongue, but before he can a pounding starts from upstairs, and he remembers why he came to Sam in the first place.

"Later," the boy waves off moving closer despite the larger man's protests, "right now we need to get out of here."

"And why should we listen to you?" Sam remains unmoved. The kid stops and smirks at him.

"Because right now I am the lesser of two evils."

Sam was going to continue debating the issue, but then he hears the door being kicked in and shouts of "he's over there" and "get him". He looks up the stairs and sees men in woman in varying suits and realizes he's caught in the crossfire of angel vs. demon. He looks back at the teen, getting more anxious by the second. He makes his decision.

"Let's go," he says, grabbing Tracy by the wrist as he follows the escapee out of the room. The three of them are pursued along the many corridors that make up the convent, and are soon running out of room to maneuver. They hit a dead end, and the sound of rushing footsteps is getting closer.

Tracy pulls herself free from Sam's grip and starts to look around frantically. "How are we going to get out?" she huffs. The other two start to join in, pressure high as their lives hang in the balance in these few seconds. That's when Sam notices the small window a few inches above him. He jumps, and grabs the edge. Tracy and the kid look at him and notice what he's doing. That's when Tracy gets underneath him and pushes him up, where Sam slides it open and slips through. He puts his hand back in and waits for the next person to grab hold. He pulls up the kid first, then Tracy. Without warning they rush off again, not looking back in fear that if they do, the enemy would be right behind them, and only stop when they reach the Impala. Sam fumbles with his keys.

"Hurry up!" Tracy shouts, eyes fixed on the lights that are slowly catching up to them. Sam gets the right key in and opens the door, quickly jumping in along with the others, and slipping the key into the hole and revving the engine. They pull out just as the search party reaches their parking space, and drive off with the angels in their dust.

Tracy hyperventilates, trying to catch her breath after the amount of energy she just spent. When she finally feels comfortable to speak without breaking, she rounds on the kid in the back with deadly eyes. "Who are you?" she growls, "And who are they? And why were they after you?"

"Curious, are we? I see why Sam would like you," the kid tries to digress, but Tracy is having none of that.

"Answer the damn question!" she shouts.

The kid is taken back in surprise, eyes widening before becoming slits and a frown mars his face. "Those, my dear, were angels. And let's just say we have… history."

"What kind of history?" Tracy continues.

"Ancient," is all the kid gives away, still being cryptic. Sensing that the kid won't give anything else away, Tracy turns to Sam for answers. He moves his eyes from the road and to hers, and answers the question.

"He's Lucifer."

Spluttering is heard from the back. "Gee, thanks for ruining the surprise!" squawks Lucifer.

"My pleasure."

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Come in."

Cain enters with Crowley hot on his heels, both aware of when Dean awoke from his slumber. They felt the shift in the energy and, more obviously, the Blade started to glow. They surround Dean on the bed, now free from his restraints, yet a little too close to Castiel then usual. He looks to the ground with red in his cheeks.

"Glad to see you've woken up from your little squirrel nap," Crowley says, "and back to focusing on your nuts-"

"Crowley," Cain sighs, "did we not discuss this just seconds before." He closes his eyes and rubs at the quickly forming migraine. "What did I tell you to do?"

Now it's Crowley who sighs. "Stand in the corner and just look pretty."

"More or less," Cain says, not in the mood to fight over semantics. Crowley does as asked and sits in one of the chairs in the corner, getting a good seat to watch the unfolding event like it's the summer blockbuster of the year. Cain gets closer to the pair on the bed and takes the seat closer to Dean.

"How are you feeling Dean?"

Dean still isn't looking at Cain. "Tired… like I've been hit with a wide-load truck, again. And… confused. What-what happened?" He looks up at Cain, eyes shining with curiosity and hope that Cain would have all the answers.

"You passed out," Castiel says, jumping in before Cain can even speak. Dean and Cain turn to the other man on the bed. "Cain was in the Bunker and-I guess, at least-that the combination of the shock and the pills was too much stress for your body."

"Well, that makes some sense," Dean continues, "but pills wouldn't make me…"

"Make you what?" Castiel asks, concerned that something happened to his hunter while unconscious. Dean doesn't look him in the eye, and just continues talking to the wall.

"Did anything else happen while I was out?"

"Well, there was a case that needed seeing too, so your brother Sam left," Cain starts, and Dean instinctively shivers at Sam's name. This doesn't go unnoticed by the trio in the room. "And later on that idiot over there," ("I resent that!") "thought it would be a good idea to force the First Blade onto you in your vulnerable state. And, well… you reacted."

"Wait, so the things in my head were because of the Blade?" Dean asks, urgent to know the truth. Cain nods his head slowly. Dean's mind stop, and he shakily exhales the breath he held in. Only one thing is clear in his mind:

"I am never touching that thing again."

Protest is quick to follow. Crowley finally involves himself into the discussion, loudly disagreeing with his secret weapon's decision. He starts to get closer, berating Dean for being so weak as to let a little piece of bone get to "the great Winchester soldier." Castiel jumps to Dean's defense, getting up and impeding Crowley's warpath. Their voices just grow louder and louder, getting closer to a physical altercation with each passing second. Cain intercepts them at the last possible second, adding his booming voice to the growing cacophony of sounds, getting between the two to block any blows that might come.

All while this is going on, Dean stays on the bed, following the fighting with his eyes. He didn't mean for the group to start fighting, he was just following his instinct of self-preservation.

'It's not the first time you've been wrong… and it won't be the last…'

Dean's eyes widen in fear at the voice in his head, having followed him from his slumber, and was just waiting with the seed of doubt to be planted at the right time.

'You just love making yourself the center of disappointment don't you?'

Dean pulls his knees up to his chest, covers his ears with his hands, and closes his eyes with as much force as he can muster before shouting: "Shut up! Shut up! Shut UP!"

Even though the words were not directed to the group, they all quieted down at the outburst from Dean. Heads swivel in the direction of the tantrum, watching the fierce hunter they all knew act like the kid he never was. Castiel is the first to break away from the cluster to approach Dean, rocking back and forth on his bottom.

"Dean! Dean!" he whispers, grabbing his hands from around Dean's ears and clasping them, rubbing his thumbs in a soothing matter into Dean's skin. "Dean! We have stopped. We are quiet now. Dean, open your eyes, it is okay."

Slowly, each second like a century, Dean comes back to himself, opening his eyes once again into the calming ocean of Castiel's. He licks his lips, and slumps back down, exhausted from the stress of his panic. Castiel continues the soothing circular motions.

Cain angrily looks at Crowley, pointing at the chair, and Crowley rolls his eyes but complies, not in the mood to cause Dean to do whatever he just did again. Cain turns back to the couple, and slowly approaches Dean once again.

"Now Dean," Cain says, bringing the focus back to him, "I understand your distrust of the Blade, but you bear the Mark now. It is your duty to wield it, especially if you are to kill Abbadon. And that is why I am here, I can teach you how to control its power and make you the master of it, instead of the other way around. Let me help you, Dean."

Dean looks away from Cain and at the joined hands in front of him. He doesn't want to come within spitting distance of the Blade if he has too, but he can't just avoid the mission. It's for the greater good, a safer Earth. But at the risk of his sanity…

Before he can even form a decision, Castiel is already giving his opinion. "There must be another way," he says, and Dean and Cain look at him once more. "This Blade is no good for him! There's no telling what can happen to him if he taxes himself too much with this cursed object!"

And it's in that moment Dean knows what he has to do.

"I'll do it."

Now everyone is looking at him, but he's only looking at Castiel. The man who believes in him to the very end, the man who would do anything to keep him safe, the man who is his rock in the sea of never-ending chaos. He knows that with Castiel at his side, he can do this. He can find the strength in himself to do what is good for humanity. That with the former angel close, he can quiet the voices in his head better than any pill or bottle ever could. Dean tries to communicate this to the man before him with the squeeze of his hand.

"I'll do it," he repeats, stronger in his conviction.

Cain smiles at Dean, happy that he didn't succumb to the fear, and keeping true to his first impression of the boy; but also because of the wellspring of strength he has found in his companion. He starts to move from the bed and to the door. "Good. We'll begin tomorrow." Cain gets to the door before stopping and signaling to Crowley he should follow, giving the two some quiet time.

Crowley scoffs, but follows the former Knight of Hell out the door. He doesn't care why Dean is doing this, or who he is doing it for, as long as he does it. Hell isn't big enough for two, and he's already lost more territory than he wanted. He misses Styx already.

Now alone in Dean's room, Castiel is about to follow the other two out the door, until Dean decides he is not going to let go of Castiel's hands. Blue eyes search green.

"Stay?" Dean asks, hope in his voice. Castiel doesn't even need to think twice.

"Always."

The fires of Hell burn bright around her, dancing in the dark like ballerinas, yet they are not what make Bela sweat. The only fire she fears is from her boss, the one in her eyes and the one in her hair. Bela waits, head bowed in a sign of respect and terror, as Abbadon sits before her on her throne of skulls, face carefully masked with practiced disdain.

"So you were taken down by a Winchester, yet decided you'd be safer coming to me… with failure?" Abbadon says distractedly, hiding the meaning behind her words with fake boredom.

Bela cringes. "Well, yes-"

"And what did you think I was going to do?" Abbadon interrupts, "throw a parade now that my expendable soldier is back safe and home?"

"No, I-"

"What were you expecting then? Hmm, what?" Abbadon says again, faking interest, leaning forward to balance her chin on her palm.

"I have information!" Bela says quickly, "that will hopefully make up for my disappointment with the mission."

Silence. Bela looks up and sees Abbadon staring at her with the 'continue' look.

"Before I escaped, I sensed angels… but they are still unaware of our operations. They were more interested in chasing some… boy who has decided to partner himself with the younger Winchester and that… girl who was with them. I don't know what they wanted with him, but he was a demon as far as I could tell, but unlike any of the rest of them. More special," she trails off, looking away again from Abbadon.

Abbadon leans back. She knows who Bela is referring to, and is surprised he's lasted this long to even be considered a thorn in her side. She needs insurance, with more and more enemies building up against her. Maybe Bela still has her uses…

"For your next mission-"

"I'm getting a second chance?" Bela interrupts, but quickly resumes her submissive position at Abbadon's glare.

"I need you to go on a scavenger hunt."

"Where to?"

"Rwanda."

"We've lost sight of him sir," one of the angels reports back, followed by three or four more angels, blades still unsheathed and anger clear on their faces.

"How did he get away?" Jehoel asks, banging his fist against one of the many cars him and his unit came in. They had him, he was cornered, and then he escaped.

"Like most troubles we've had in the past," the angel sighs, "it's because of the Winchesters-"

"The Winchesters?" Harut interrupts, "was Castiel with them?"

A shake of the head makes the Jehoel even angrier. They have failed in their mission to capture the first fallen angel, and still don't even know where the traitor is. It seems like each step forward is just another step back. Jehoel steps away from the cluster and is followed by Harut. Harut is not as angry as his commander, but he is still disappointed with how the mission went.

"Do not worry, sir," he says, stopping the other with a hand, "there will be other chances."

Jehoel shrugs the hand off, "We have not had a successful mission yet! We need something!"

"I think I have something," says another voice. A third man approaches, slick black hair gelled back and a small ring pierced above his eyebrow from the previous owner of his body.

"What do you have, Daniel?" Harut asks, thankful that there might be something to save this mission.

"We were doing a sweep of the area and, although the souls have dispersed, we did find traces of demonic possession in the area," he says, typing away into his phone and showing it to his commanding officers. "We think that this was a breeding farm: twisting souls into demons. Apparently something big is going down if they need this many new demons…"

Harut turns to Jehoel, "Any ideas?"

Jehoel thinks for a minute. "Well we do have intel on a conflict in Hell. Apparently there is a civil war going on down there. Someone must want to shift the tide with a bigger army."

"That's not all," Daniel continues, pocketing his cellphone. The two commanding officers turn towards him again, waiting on his next words like fish on the bait. "While scouring the area for Lucifer, one of our agents did a surface sweep of where he was first spotted, and they picked up a separate trail."

"Another demon?" Jehoel asks.

"No," Daniel answers, "this was an angel."

"Lucifer!" Tracy shouts, turning on the kid in the back smirking at her. He has a witty retort waiting to be fired, but before he can even say anything she's rounding on him from the front seat and starts to whack him.

"Hey, hey, watch it! Precious cargo here! Sam do something!" he shouts, begging for safety with each hit.

Tracy is so turned she's out of her seat and trying to jump into the back. Lucifer's arms are up, protecting him from the smacks that were aimed for his head. Sam, on the other hand, is struggling with driving with Tracy wiggling right next to him inching forward into the back each passing second.

"Hey," Sam says, eyes still on the road, "Hey! Tracy, even though he deserves it, now is not the time to thrash him into bits at the risk of our own life. When we stop later, you can beat him to as much of a pulp as you like."

Tracy pulls back, but she still looks peeved, while Lucifer on the other hand still looks displeased. "Don't I get a say in that?" he asks.

"No." They both say, facing forward.

"I think I'd rather stay with the angels…" he mutters under his breath, slouching forward like the teen he inhabits.

"So," Sam starts, when he's certain there's not going to be another outburst, "at the risk of being given the run-around, how did you escape?"

"Now Sammy, why would I give you the run-around," Lucifer starts, "when there's even better ways I can annoy you?"

"Of course there are," Sam mutters under his breath, hands gripped tight on the wheel, knuckles white.

"It's all simple, really," Lucifer starts, "there I was, all alone, with nothing but the voices of Michael and Adam, you remember him right? Brother you left to rot in Hell? He hasn't forgotten…"

"Get to the point already!" Sam interrupts, getting more annoyed with each syllable that slithers out of the demon's mouth.

"So rude," Lucifer comments, "does he do this with you?" He puts his hand on Tracy's shoulder, but she just glares at it until Lucifer slowly removes it of his own volition. "Anyway," he begins again, "as I was saying I was trying to enjoy another eternity in my cozy little cell when my peace was disturbed by this fiery little wench claiming to be the 'Queen of Hell'-"

"Abbadon," Sam and Tracy say at the same time, casting a quick glance at each other.

"Bingo! That was the tart's name. She comes in and demands my service in her feud with that smarmy git Crowley, and thinks I would willingly help her usurp my usurper and not for my benefit? Well, I did what I always do: lied straight through my teeth and waited for my opportunity to escape. Unfortunately the only crack in the veil that could bring me to Earth led me straight into a sect of angles, and I was seriously outnumbered and underpowered, and all I could do was run, and that's where I ran into little Brian here-"

"And came to find us, blah blah blah we get it," Tracy says, "we'll gank you later. I don't think blood would be appreciated on the seats."

"You can't kill me!" Lucifer objects, "there's no way possible to kill me!"

"Well actually," Sam starts smirking, "if you said you were a little underpowered, you might have been affected by the angels falling as well."

"The angels fell?" Lucifer asked, curious as to the going-ons during his absence.

"They were kicked out of Heaven, and now Metatron is the only one who can go in and out of Heaven."

"Always hated that man," Lucifer snides, slouching back and crossing his arms, "always thought he was better than everyone because God made him an angel from a human soul. Such a kiss ass."

"Anyway," Sam continues, "the angels fell, and they lost most of their power in the fall. So, there is a possibility, that your powers could have been diminished in the fall since you have no connection to Heaven anymore, no matter how small it could have been before."

"So that means-"

"We have a good chance of actually finishing you off."

Lucifer gulps and just lets that sink in. It's probably the longest time he's quiet before he starts again. "I know I'm not the most… trustworthy… but I think you are onto something. I feel… weaker. I still have most of my strength, still some powers, but I do not have the wide range of abilities that I am used too. But you need me!" His eyes are flaming with passion, trying to convince the two hunters why he should be given a second chance. "Right now I'm a wanted man by both the demons and the angels, yet I still have some sway with the underworld. If the underlings know I've sided with you, more and more might be swayed from Abbadon's flag. Also… I might know a thing or two about how to get back to Heaven…" he trails off after that, looking back and forth expectantly to see what his verdict is.

Sam side-eyes Tracy, and he can see in her eyes that she wants to just kill and spill. But he can't let that happen. He shakes his head, and she tries to convince him, but he knows better than anyone that sometimes you need to side with one bad to take down another.

"You two should probably get some rest," Sam says after a while, "It'll be a long time until we're back in Lebanon."

Gadreel is working the bar again, trying to keep a sense of normalcy while Metatron is off doing… whatever he does when he's not hanging around and creeping out the customers. It's a fast night, and although at first he had a hard time managing all the orders and the pouring, he realizes he's a fast learner. And the appreciative tips and numbers have also been fun. Right now he's talking to this tanned man, muscles, green eyes and black hair. He might be laying it on a little thick, but he wants to enjoy this body for as long as possible.

"So being a contractor is hard work, but it pays the bills you know," the guy says leaning closer, the smell of gin clear on his breath.

"Well," starts Gadreel, matching his movements, but raising the stakes by putting a hand over the other man's, "I've always loved a man who knew how to work with his hands."

The other man smirked, and just as Gadreel was about to go in for the closer, he hears a cough to his left. He recognizes that cough, and curses to high Heaven as he sees Metatron waiting for him on the next stool. He sighs, and tries to apologize to the man. All the other does is smile, and slips him a piece of paper and mouths 'call me' before walking out the door.

"This better be important Metatron," Gadreel grumbles, taking a glass and drying it in his hands to keep his hands occupied so he doesn't end up strangling the man before him.

"Definitely more important than your little bedfellow over there," Metatron winks. "You should be thanking me," he continues, "he wasn't all that he seemed. That bulge in his pants? Diapers. He's one of those adult-baby people. Really creepy."

Gadreel shudders involuntary, now a little thankful for the interruption before crumbling the slip of paper into garbage and flicking it into the trashcan. "So why are you here then?"

"Word on the street is that a little devil is out and about on the town and with the Winchesters," Metatron says, "and morale on the angel side is slipping under Bartholomew. We have a good chance of gaining ground on his operations."

"Do you really think they'd leave him with all that we have?" Gadreel asks sarcastically.

"That's because they haven't seen all that I can offer," Metatron says darkly, "and all that I still have up my sleeve."

"Are we there yet?"

"For the last time Lucifer I swear to all that is still holy in the world you ask that one more time I'm going to start an exorcism."

"You said that fifteen 'are we there yet's ago."

"Exorcizamus te-"

"We're here!" Sam shouts, pulling the Impala into the driveway and ending whatever mess that was about to go down in this car. Tracy shoots him an ungrateful look, but Lucifer is already shoving his way out of the car and moving towards the door. Tracy and Sam are not far behind. It's Lucifer who gets to the door first and barges in like he owns the place already.

"Lucy, I'm home!" he announces, banging the metal door to the wall as he floats into the room with practiced grace. His response is not what he expected, as two pairs of eyes look confusedly at him.

"Who the Hell are you?" Crowley asks.

"Now, now," Lucifer placates, "it's who from Hell are you?"

Cain is on his guard now, wary at the teen before him. Taking a closer look he senses something… familiar. A presence he has not seen in a long time. Lucifer continues down the stairs, but keeps on talking.

"Oh come on now, I thought I left you each a little something to remember me by…" He walks over to Crowley: "a throne." Then stops in front of Cain, gripping his arm: "and a Mark."

Sam and Tracy have just entered the Bunker as the two men come to the realization of who is in front of them.

"Lucifer?" Cain whispers, shocked at running into his former master after centuries of avoidance.

"The one and only."

On another stretch of road, a young man with a flash of blonde hair limps along, head heavy on his shoulders even as it is empty of all memories.

And on that note I will close this chapter. I told you I'd have time to do this stuff, now what with breaks in between classes in college and the ability to bring my laptop with me.

But where is this story going now? What does Lucifer know? What is Abbadon gathering? What else does Metatron have up his sleeve? Who is the mysterious boy at the end of this chapter? All this and more will be answered in the coming chapters of: This Story!

Please remember to review!