Episode 17 – When Hell Freezes Over
Summary: The gang licks their wounds while Gavin takes another step to fulfill his full potential as False Prophet.
Author's Notes: My sincerest apologies for the wait - I blame Kevin Spacey and House of Cards… Thanks for your patience, my dears! Take an extra long chapter as compensation.
We're getting closer to the end, folks. I'm scared. I know what will happen but I'm still scared. *cuddles-blanket*
xXx
The loud crack can be heard all across the world; it bounces off mountains and looses some of its volume yet never enough so to grow completely silent.
It is loudest in Russia and Africa, where the asteroids eventually make impact after crashing down with supernatural speed, rendering it impossible for scientists to stop them or evacuate targeted areas.
They needn't have worried – neither one of the asteroids costs many lives. The one that goes down in Siberia fells thousands and thousands of trees and the shockwave even reaches London, but hardly anyone dies. And while the one making impact in the Sahara desert causes quite the sandstorm, casualties are minimal.
Lucifer rages, curses him, threatens the worst of pain to him once he gets the chance, yet Sam remains unfazed.
True, he is powerless over Lucifer, though in small ways he can still be useful to his brother and the angels. If Lucifer had had his way, the asteroids would have destroyed mayor cities. Thanks to Sam's involvement, they hardly made a dent in the world's population.
Of course a furious Lucifer is a dangerous Lucifer, who decides that the False Prophet better start soon with conjuring the Beast of the Sea.
Well… Dean always likes a challenge, doesn't he?
xXx
"Jesse is safe, nice going with trying to protect him but from what I've gathered the kid's pretty badass all on his lonesome," is the first comment out of Gabriel's mouth once they are all back at the bunker.
His second action is working some mojo on Alex who looks like she took up boxing, but with an opponent three times her size. Dean remembers her fighting pretty severely with a particular demon – as in 'vendetta intense'. Seems like the girl found the one who murdered her family. Good on her.
"We know what the sounds were yet? Man, those were loud." Dean shakes his head, already dreading Gabriel's answer.
And the archangel doesn't disappoint. "Asteroids," he says grimly. "Though they didn't cause as much chaos as I thought. Pretty unlike my brother to make them impact in the middle of nowhere with a population of zero."
"So what happened?" Alex asks. She looks as though she wasn't bruised and bloodied three seconds ago, as if they didn't just face the devil. More than anything she seems eager to get back out there.
Charlie, on the other, hand is cowering in a chair, still shaken from whatever spell or curse Lucifer put on her.
"Moose happened," Gabriel explains. "The only way those asteroids changed direction is if Sam influenced their trajectory."
"So he's still in there?"
"I doubt Luci was kind enough to release his soul before he took over."
Dean can't argue with that. "So what now?"
"We should get back out there," Alex suggests completely unsurprisingly.
"Don't even think about it," Gabriel argues. "Y'all are hitting the hay, pronto. You're all human, you need rest. You're no use to me running on fumes. I'll call as soon as I got news, okay?"
They all argue back, except for Charlie, though of course Gabriel wins. Dean takes the laptop with him and Cas and he spend another hour and a half browsing through forums, YouTube and Twitter.
"What's that, Dean?" Cas points at a recommended video entitled 'Join Lucifer and survive the apocalypse'. Someone was quick – it has barely been two hours since the girl from the airport uploaded her video.
"Jeez, already a couple 'o thousand views?" Dean curses. "Don't people got anything better to do than watch videos while the world's ending?"
"They are looking for answers, for guidance. Most of them have no means of making sense of all of this. If you had never encountered anything supernatural before, how would you react to the apocalypse?"
Of course Cas has a point and Dean grumbles as much into his imaginary beard. He clicks "play" and immediately recoils from the laptop when the video reveals none other than Merrick.
"Son of a bitch!"
Dean jumps from the bed and Cas quickly pauses the video. "What is it?"
"That douchebag!"
"Who?"
"That's Merrick, Cas! Torture master extraordinaire downstairs while I was working for Crowley. That bastard…"
A lot suddenly made more sense. Merrick's helpful attitude, ensuring his descent into bloodlust and darkness. How Merrick didn't seem curious about the Knights' mission while the seals were breaking…
Well, Dean can't change the past but he sure as hell can gank that motherfucker when he sees him next. Clenching his teeth, Dean climbs back into bed and pulls Cas close, needing the strength that the body next to him gives him before he actually watches whatever shit Merrick put on YouTube.
"Greetings, puny humans," are the demon's first words. "I may look like you but I assure you – I am not." His eyes flash black and something flies across the frame and lands in his hand. A carving knife, Dean recognizes when he gets a clearer look.
"I am powerful and I am dangerous and most importantly, I am but one of many of my kind. We demons are among you and we will ensure that the earth will fall and belong to our master instead. Now," he sneers, suddenly much less grim, "if you believe there is a place in heaven for you, go ahead and die. But if you want to remain a part of this world; if you wish to work for the winning side, then it is time to declare your allegiance to Lucifer, the Morning Star, Beelzebub, our leader. Let me show you how."
Merrick spends the next three minutes dragging some innocent kid into the frame, obviously relishing it as he tells the viewers how this young boy is pure an innocent, and he still ended up in the hands of demons. "Now he's our live model," Merrick jokes. Shit, his jokes have always been stale.
One moment later Merrick brings the knife down on the boy's skin, etching a symbol into his right cheek. It bleeds a lot though Merrick doesn't seem to mind. The boy's cries make Dean's stomach lurch.
Once the blood has been wiped off the form of the carving becomes visible. It's simple, just an upside down cross.
"This one's a bit deep. Yours won't need to be. It just needs to be visibly carved into your skin and we will accept you as a follower of Satan and you won't end up like this insignificant human here." With one fluid movement, Merrick rams the carving knife into the boy's temple. The kid gurgles and then falls to the side where he keeps twitching while Merrick bids his goodbye. "Thank you for your attention."
The video ends without further commentary. Dean wouldn't have expected any further links or things like that. After all if the world ends, Dean doubts there'll be enough infrastructure left to maintain websites.
"What will we do with marked humans?" Cas asks, breaking the silence.
"Let 'em live unless they start killing for their new boss. Gotta keep to the rules."
Besides, if they actually win this fight then the less dead humans the better. Dean doesn't say that, though, since even in his head it sounds ludicrous.
"We should get some rest. I have a feeling that the next few days are going to be rougher than the preceding ones."
"Huh, you don't say," Dean drawls, but there's no bite in it. He closes the laptop and puts it on the floor, then huddles closer to the former angel.
Cas flings one arm across Dean's chest as he drapes himself across his torso, resting his head in the crook of Dean's neck. He drops a chaste kiss to Cas' forehead.
"Goodnight, Cas."
"Goodnight, Dean," he hears him murmur back. It will always be one of Dean's biggest regrets that he didn't make a move before the whole Knight-of-hell-apocalypse mess started. To imagine he could have fallen asleep next to Cas for years?
Dean quickly chases the thought away. Dwelling on past mistakes ain't gonna help them. Instead he basks in the now and allows the warmth radiating from Cas' body lull him to sleep.
xXx
Brian Remy advanced in life through a mixture of skill, charm, intellect and a talent for manipulation paired with a lack of scruples that limit most people's success to the mediocre.
At least that is what he likes to think. Of course, the fact that he is barely 34 and a partner in the most prestigious advertising agency in Washington, DC, should say enough about how ambitious he is. And in a city where intrigue, lies and deceit are the everyday order of business? Brian fits right in.
Brian has the perfect life – a beautiful and horrendously expensive flat, a car that turns heads on the street, a collection of tailored suits and he is content with casual relationships that simply fall into his lap, forgive the cheap pun.
Above that he works on the top floor of a large and sleek office building, walls made out of glass with his last name on the exterior. Remy & Vause is prime property, just a few blocks away from the White House itself.
Only today it looks like a ghost office more than anything. Furthermore, when Brian makes it to his floor, it is incredibly cold. Apparently the AC hasn't come in to work either.
"Over sixty percent called in sick," Laura Vause, the agency's founder, tells him with a long-suffering sigh. She has a reputation for firing people for the smallest infractions. Most people call her cold, Brian just calls her effective. Obviously they get along quite well.
"Well, most our clients did, too."
"Apocalypse, please." Laura rolls her eyes. "A little bit of water and two asteroids and everyone is loosing their minds. Weaklings."
"Pardon?" a male voice inquires.
They both turn and meet brown, soft eyes. They belong to man who could be one of their in-house models – he is tall, muscular, with a chiseled jaw and long hair that looks surprisingly good on him. He even manages to pull of the completely white suit he is wearing.
"Hello, are you my 9.30?" Brian asks, aiming his most charming smile at the new arrival.
"No. But I'm sure you can squeeze me in."
Brian checks his clock. "Of course, why don't you follow me?"
"Oh, you have it the wrong way 'round."
"Excuse me?"
For a second Brian entertains the thought that this man mistook their agency for a BDSM club.
"You heard me. I will take over this building and you can either leave or loose your lives. I look forward to meeting you in hell, in that case."
"Oh, yes," Laura intervenes. "You are that guy from YouTube. The one who calls himself the devil. It's weird – how come the devil looks like one of the mas-murdering brothers that made the news a few years back?"
The stranger smiles and Brian notices how his eyes have suddenly gone extremely cold.
"Someone did her homework. It won't help you, though."
He snaps the fingers of his left hand and suddenly Laura bursts into flames. They are a bright red and don't emanate any heat at all which strikes Brian as incredibly strange. Laura screams. The flames don't stop but envelope her further until her entire body is submerged.
That is the moment that Brian panics. Well, in his own way. He has had guns pointed at him, angry ex-lovers assault him, done deals with millions on the line. When he panics, it is internal; adrenaline pumping through his veins and sharpening his wits.
When he glances at Lucifer again he is tilting his head at him.
"You aren't running."
"I won't be fast enough." The devil chuckles and Brian presses on. "Besides, I figured I'd use the moment to apply for a job."
That even elicits a barking laugh from the man. Laura's screams die out as her charred corpse falls to the floor.
"What kind of job would that be?"
"I am the best advertising agent on the East Coast and when shouldering such a huge undertaking like the apocalypse, you will need me."
Lucifer looks, if anything, amused. Well, Brian's still breathing, so he must be doing something right. He decides to simply proceed, pretending this is just a pitch like any other.
"Now, I don't know yet what your strategy is – if you want to establish a new order or if you are more in favor of chaos and anarchy, but," Brian continues, one hand in the pocket of his pants, the other gesticulating in compliance with his speech, "you will need to spread the word. I take it the face-carving video was a first step? It was a good one, but the next step would be a follow-up, coordinating a social media campaign, getting words out. You haven't won this fight yet but already you are gathering a following. Those are human resources you can utilize to your gain."
Brian would have continues, though Lucifer holds up a hand to silence him.
"A social media campaign?"
"Yes. YouTube is a great start but you should have additional accounts on Twitter, Facebook, maybe even Instagram and Tumblr. You wouldn't have to manage it, of course, but it will be essential in getting your message out there. Engage them and give them less reason to dislike you. Consider it part of your image campaign."
He stops there. Don't oversell it, he tells himself. If asked a few years back whether he would think the devil would use the internet should he return, Brian would have laughed rather loudly. Not only because he used to be a convinced atheist, but also because the devil's last coup was millions of years ago. He wouldn't even know about pens and paper, let alone a computer.
Now, however, Lucifer is considering him with a calculating expression on his face. A minute trickles by until he moves again and his lips curl into a smile.
"Fine. I'll humor you. But the moment you loose your appeal, I'll eviscerate you and feed your intestines to my hellhounds. Got it?"
Brian nods, a bit dizzy from what just happened.
"Show me this one's office." The devil waves a hand at the pile of ashes on the floor. "I'm here because I need a base of operations for the next step, after all."
"Of course; please follow me."
Brian leads Lucifer down the hallway just as the first sounds of demons killing the rest of the staff fill the building.
xXx
It only takes two days, but those days are enough for everything to go to shit. Gabriel curses the human race, the entire situation, everything. Oh well, maybe cursing the entire human race might be unfair – after all it's only the politicians and governments that are fucking shit up.
"Great idea, United Nations! Let's declare martial law and instigate total chaos! 'cause that's totally not what my nutcase of a brother wants, noooo. He wants us all to stand together and fight him collectively so well done for undermining his plans so perfectly well!" Gabriel rages, kicking the coffee table with is foot.
"Hey, easy there with the furniture, 's not like we can go out and grab another one right now," Dean admonishes.
As much as Gabriel hates to admit it, the squirrel has a point. They are snowed in. Actually, most of America is snowed in, and that in July. It's freaking people out and makes it even harder for the communities to keep the peace. The National Guard is already patrolling the major cities to limit the vandalism and the looting but the authorities are loosing their grip, fast.
Europe ain't doing much better while South America and South Africa are a patchwork of either newly established dictators keeping their people in order or full out civil wars. While ice is covering the northern hemisphere, the southern one is has been heating up gradually and Gabriel shudders to imagine what's gonna happen there if the trend persists.
For their part, Dean, Cas and his group of stranded girls (and Crowley) have been working non-stop. Alex and Charlie are coordinating the website they established, answering questions and tweeting tips.
Well, at least the military has salt rounds in their guns, so the government may not be completely incompetent. Probably should be thankful for small wonders.
"How are things in Heaven?" Cas asks from where he is preparing holy water bombs for their stash. Alex' idea has proven pretty effective against the hoard of demons that decided to attack Lebanon yesterday.
Gabriel shrugs. "We ain't got enough angels. Even if we still were at the top of our game, number wise… it wouldn't be enough," he adds pre-emptively. He knows how much his brother loves drowning himself in guilt. "But we're doing what we can. Saving people, helping out. Building shelters and camps, which we guard against demons. Ain't ideal but what else can we do? I don't have the authority to just call 'em all up to Heaven."
"You're sure no one will come, then?"
"You mean Daddy? Or Jesus? Nope. If they wanted, they would've made an appearance by now. We're on our own, kiddo."
"I just wish I could help more."
"You are helping. And you're keeping the general sane," Gabriel adds with a wink in Dean's direction. "Hate to say it but I'm still hoping for some crazy-ass plan that'll put all to rights again from that boy. Wouldn't be the first time."
"He's doing his best."
"GUYS!" Charlie interrupts with a screech. "TURN ON CNN!"
A second later the redhead comes flying into the living room with her phone in her hand, Alex and Crowley trailing behind her. Dean, Cas and Gabriel are already here but Gabriel turned off the TV in his rage at the latest announcement.
"What the fuck, Charlie?" Dean curses as the lady almost kicks him off the sofa in her hurry.
She finds CNN fast enough and what they see then makes them all gasp collectively.
Right, the President was going to make an announcement as to how they'll be handling the situation from now on. So where there should be a press conference playing with the Commander in Chief in front of the Presidential seal, there is instead only a woman with Asian features, obviously a news anchor, but she's trembling and there are drops of blood running down her cheek and probably clotting up her hair as well.
In the background the podium is clearly visible in front of the White House emblem. Across the podium, half his skull missing and slumped at an unnatural angle, is the President.
To the right side of the frame, Gabriel can see several Secret Service agents, eyes black and white shirts stained crimson. One of them barks something at the news anchor and she shudders, swallows and starts talking.
"This is Anita Lee reporting live from the White House press room, where the President should have delivered a statement regarding the newest UN regulation urging its members to declare martial law. Before he could explain the position of the United States, however, an agent of his protection detail shot him in the head." The woman on TV is loosing her fight against her tears and they flow down her cheeks, mixing with the blood and smearing her make-up. "An entire group of demons then massacred all people present including the President's wife, his chief of staff and several other members of the White House in addition to almost a hundred journalists that were present. Lucifer has assumed responsibility for these actions today. He said, and I quote, 'Humans need to understand that there is no salvation, there is only chaos and my star will shine across the world, covering it in darkness.' He did not give any further explanation, though heavily hinted that the leader of the United States of America would not be the last heads of state that would roll in the following days."
The woman exhales shakily and swallows, unable to go on, though moments later her face contorts in pain. When he glances at the agents to her right, Gabriel sees one of the demons lower their hand.
"The uncensored version of today's events will be ready for viewing on Lucifer's YouTube channel. You can also follow him on Twitter and Facebook for further updates. For questions or feedback, please use the hashtag 'MorningstarRising'. This was Anita Lee from the White House."
The screen goes black after that, leaving behind a shocked silence in its wake.
Crowley is the first to comment. "Seems like good old Lucifer got himself a publicist. Though even I have to admit that it is a tad macabre to ask for feedback. Though this will have the desired effect."
"And what's that, getting the entire world to flip their shit?" Dean shouts, jumping to his feet and starting to pace.
"Exactly. He aims to create chaos. Divide and conquer, only on a much larger scale."
"Hate to admit it but our resident coward over here's right," Gabriel grumbles. "We'll need to put something up on the website, use the time before Luci gets annoyed by whoever the hell is coordinating his online presence and takes out the servers."
"We'll get on it imme-" Charlie starts but the last few syllables drown in the sound of Gabriel's phone ringing. It's Jamie.
"Jamie, you're on speaker – tell me you got good news."
"Uh, not sure. Had a vision."
"What did you see?"
"I didn't see nothing per se, but I got a phrase stuck in my head."
"Let's hear it, then."
Everyone in the room seems to hold their breath at the same time as they wait for Jamie's response.
"When Hell freezes over and Heaven boils, the father from the son recoils."
Silence falls.
"What, that's it?" Dean asks, sounding as confused as Gabriel feels.
"I'm sorry."
"Great, we're loosing down here and all God can be bothered to send through the Prophet Mail is awful poetry!"
"Dean –"
"Pops works in mysterious ways," Gabriel admits, though he doubts Dean is hearing anything right now.
"I mean it's his fault we're in this mess to begin with but instead of giving us something we can actually use -"
"Dean –"
"He gives us absolute crap like that that ain't gonna help us for shit!"
"DEAN!"
Charlie apparently had enough of waiting patiently for Dean to cool down. When Dean spins around to her with an annoyed "What?" all she does is hold out her phone.
Gabriel steps closer to get a better look. What he sees makes his eyes go wide. It's a tweet, dated back a few hours, showing a place-name sign for some city called 'Hell'. On top of that the sign's covered in ice and snow. Ain't that convenient.
"Jamie, thanks, that actually helps. I think," Gabriel tells the prophet before saying his goodbye.
"Son of a bitch," Dean suddenly exclaims, sounding more surprised than angry. When Gabriel looks up, the hunter's bow is creased and his lips are parted.
"What's the matter, Dean-o? No more incredibly useful cursing and taking my father's name in vain?"
"Shut up, I just remembered something…"
Without a single word of explanation, Dean rushes out of the room. Castiel and Gabriel share mystified glances, then follow with Alex and Charlie in tow. Crowley mirrors them, only at a more leisurely pace.
They find Dean at the map table, frantically checking the outline of the United States. When he doesn't find whatever the heck he's looking for, he hits a key on the laptop that's gone into power safe mode and pulls up Google maps.
Gabriel thinks he's catching on.
And indeed, when Dean whoops in victory and turns the laptop towards his audience, it shows a small island in a river splitting, and the name on the small patch of green reads 'Heaven'.
"Merlin's pants, Dean, that's awesome!" Charlie shouts and slides into a chair. "Where is it?"
"Washington, DC. I remember it from a job a couple 'o years back. It's small but it's right there south of the White House. We had a werewolf hiding out there; killed a bunch of Secret Service agents before I ganked it."
"So what about the prophecy? We know what Heaven and Hell mean, so what about the son? And who's the father?" Alex asks, pragmatic as ever.
"Do you think it is our father?" Castiel asks, a sliver of hope showing in his gaze.
Gabriel shakes his head. "Nope. Why'd he recoil from us? All we've done is try 'n help. And if it's referring to him and Luci, then it's one stupid prophecy that doesn't help jack."
"It's Crowley," Alex says, pointing at the demon who has been watching with dethatched interest.
"Pardon?"
"I've been wondering why the False Prophet hasn't done anything yet, so it must refer to him – he's your son, isn't he? Gavin?"
"Yes, but if you even think for one second that I will voluntarily go where he is –"
"Oh, we wouldn't think that," Gabriel sneers just as he uses his angelic speed to slap some devil's trap handcuffs on the former King of Hell. Good thing Dean pretty much always carries some around. "Let's pack out shit and let's go!"
"Uh," is Charlie's reaction, paired with a pretty impressive deer-in-the-headlights look. "I'll remain behind and man Twitter?"
Gabriel exchanges a quick glance with Dean before they give her the okay. Gabriel doubts they could have removed her from her spot on that chair if they wanted to. Though she moves of her own volition to hand Alex a few tricks she apparently brought back from Oz. He's heard it's a great place, though Gabriel has never been himself.
It doesn't even take a five full minutes before Castiel, Dean, Alex and a reluctant Crowley are ready to be zapped across the continent and take on the False Prophet.
Do what he might, but Gabriel can't shake the feeling that something's going to go terribly wrong.
xXx
Gabriel hates being right. Well, okay, not really – he loves being right, but only when it comes to nice things, not to the total destruction of a nation's capital.
They scouted the place, found it crawling with demonic vermin, retreated and formed a battle plan, which ended with Gabriel zapping up to Heaven to collect Jesse.
"So, what now?" the kid asks.
"Now we stop Gavin from working whatever mojo he's planning on and ganking that son of a bitch," Dean so crudely explains their delicate plan.
Okay, maybe not so delicate. The apocalypse is just making Gabriel bitter, that's all.
"Guys," Alex cuts in, "look!"
She's pointing at the water surrounding the island. Small clouds of mist are wafting upwards as the water heats up.
"Alright, everyone hold on," Gabriel bellows and transports each of the illustrious band of fighters (and Crowley) to their agreed positions on the island while giving the signal via angel radio.
From then on it's chaos.
xXx
Beth isn't startled when suddenly the pastor's daughter materializes next to her where she's guarding Gavin as he is performing the ritual. She simply turns, blocks the blow Alex aimed at her, and throws her across the grass.
"Must be nice to have friends in high places," Beth sneers, "wouldn't want you to suffer through the tedious healing process of bruises and cracked ribs, now, would we?"
"Why don't you give me some new ones, then?" Alex spits back, jumping back onto her feet and throwing one of those bombs the survivors of yesterday's attack on Lebanon warned Beth about.
She evades it, yet barely – a few drops of holy water hit her face and she grimaces in pain.
That second is enough for Alex to empty a round of salted bullets into her chest, though not enough to stop Beth from retaliating.
Here they go again.
xXx
Jesse doesn't get scared anymore, not for his own life anyway. After all that he's been through, death doesn't hold any power over him.
The only thing that frightens him now is the prospect of loosing.
Not today, he decides, watching behind the cover of a bush how Alex distracts Beth, how Gabriel and the angels engage the advancing backup roaming the streets of Washington and how Dean and Cas take care of the remaining demons on the island and advancing towards the mainland.
"It won't work. We don't know where Lucifer is, he's bound to be watching," Crowley complains behind him.
"Shut up," Jesse grinds out. His entire body is tense as he waits for the opening.
"I'm just saying –" Crowley starts again but it's too late. Jesse's path is unobstructed and he dashes forward, stretching out his hand and focusing his powers on Gavin where he is reciting the incantation. The water has started boiling moments ago – Jesse needs to put a stop to this, now.
Gavin starts choking and Jesse squeezes his throat tighter. He may be the False Prophet but he's still mostly human and able to die when his vessel croaks.
Something slams into Jesse's side and breaks his concentration. Gavin coughs but that's all Jesse gathers before he hits the ground hard enough to leave a dent in the soil.
"I don't think so, Jesse."
When he looks up he finds himself staring right into the eyes of Lucifer himself.
Damn.
xXx
Back in the bunker, Charlie is surrounded by two laptops, her phone and a TV showing live footage from news helicopters circling the White House. One of them has already been shot down by demons, though Charlie thinks she saw the passengers getting a ride on the angel express right before it hit the water.
She can't keep up with the messages and tweets, her fingers are hurting and she can feel a headache starting to spread from her temples while she divides her attention between typing out replies and watching the screen for any sign of success or failure, trying desperately to ignore the frantic alarm sounding from the bunker's computers.
When the first head rises out of the boiling water, she gasps.
When the second head follows, she whimpers.
By the time the seventh head emerges she's standing open-mouthed in front of the TV, listening to the panicked shouts of the reporter as the camera tracks the Beast's path out of the water and onto the island.
It's large with seven horned heads and two big paws, sharp claws digging into the ground. Its tail has scales and a pointy tip, undoubtedly poisonous. It roars and the onlookers, visible as tiny dots on the riversides, begin to bolt in blind panic.
Two seconds later the Beast pushes itself up on its hind legs and one of the heads snaps for the helicopter.
The last thing the camera records is the gaping mouth of the largest head, throat dark like an abyss leading right into hell.
Just then the bunker starts to rattle, making Charlie sway on her feet.
"That can't be good," she murmurs to herself.
Another quake spurs her into action. She packs up her laptop, her bag, a few choice weapons and some books from the library. By the time she remembers her phone in the living room there is black smoke drifting in slowly through the crack in the bunker door on top of the staircase that wasn't there when Charlie last looked at it.
High time to get the hell outta here.
xXx
Crowley is frozen in place when his moment comes.
Jesse is battling the Beast after Gabriel took over the devil and Gavin is gasping, resting his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.
It is now or never. Crowley has a job, but doing it means exposing himself to Lucifer and that is just a lousy idea.
Bollocks. He is dead either way, so he may as well go down pretending to be a braver tosser than he actually is.
"Oi, Gavin," he shouts just as he throws the hex bag Charlie handed to him for the occasion.
It hits Gavin in the head, bursts open and showers his son in a rain of red – is that glitter? It falls to the floor, forming a circle around his son, locking him firmly in place, no matter how hard he tries to escape. Didn't think Red had it in her, Crowley muses with a victorious smirk.
"What did ya do to me?!" Gavin shouts, obviously in pain. Good.
"What did I do to you? You tricked me! You abused the little sentiment I still had for you and went on to stab me in the back!" Crowley snarls, anger filling his body from head to toe. "I should have let you drown!"
"Ya should've, ya bastard!" Gavin gasps, his face flushing, either from pain or from fury or both. "Better than strolling around without any cash like a man out 'o time! And ya weren't there to help me! What'd ya think would happen, eh? I'd make my way, have a great life?"
"If you weren't such a failure, you would have."
"Oh, but I did – look at me, Dad, look! I'm the False Prophet, I'm all powerful now and ya can't stop me!"
"Oh, Gavin." Crowley sighs, then draws the gun that Winchester gave him. He should probably feel worse about putting a bullet through his own son's head, but what can he say? He always was and always will be a bloody awful father.
"What, ya gonna shoot your own son?"
"Goodbye, Gavin."
He pulls the trigger without uttering another word – no apology, no grand plea for forgiveness. It's almost cathartic in a way, even if a part he will never ever mention to anyone hurts as the bullet makes contact with Gavin's skull, splattering brain matter all over the grass before his son falls back, eyes lifelessly staring upwards.
Somewhere on the mainland the Beast roars and Crowley turns around just quick enough to see the White House crumble underneath its large paws.
Well, his job is done. Crowley decides to leave the cleanup to those who aren't on Lucifer's shitlist.
xXx
Castiel and Dean are fighting off demons to give the angels room to get the people out of the already damaged White House.
As far as Castiel knows, the East Wing has already been flattened underneath the Beast's weight and it is only logical to assume the rest will follow.
His fears prove justified.
The only problem is that Dean and he are standing incredibly close to the collapsing building so when it starts to disintegrate, Castiel grabs Dean by the collar and pulls him into the closest reprieve he spotted – the North Lawn Fountain.
xXx
Gabriel knows that the moment the White House falls into ruin is the point of no return. Henceforth there be chaos.
All he can do now is make sure Jesse gains the upper hand. Kid's doing good though seven heads for one teenager is a bit much. He soars in from the side while the monster's attention is all on the scrawny figure in front of it, then rams his archangel blade through the side of one skull.
It smokes out, but not before jerking wildly and almost striking Gabriel down. Lucifer is on him again immediately and everything becomes a blur of wings, heads, horns, flickering eyes and pain before Gabriel passes out.
xXx
Jesse pushes down the worry for Gabe and sprints towards the patch of grass where the angel's blade landed as he dropped it after Lucifer slammed into him for the millionth time.
He sends it flying through the air while he takes off, the Beast hot on his heels as he runs down 16th Street which is thankfully empty except for a few cars that get crushed underneath the monster's heavy body.
Only one head remains and Jesse braces himself as he grinds to a halt, whirls around and propels the blade right into the space between the last two horns. He watches the Beast fall as if in slow-motion, chocking on a roar and eyes flickering one last time before smoking out, then crashing into the concrete and cracking the street open.
Jesse gasps. He did it. The Beast is dead.
As soon as he can form a coherent thought again, he sends a prayer to Hannah who appears two seconds later and transports him back to safety.
xXx
Beth is standing over a bloodied and bruised Alex, ready to deliver the killing blow when she senses the Beast's last roar, then her boss' command to retreat.
Her split second hesitation is enough to give the girl an opening, smashing a holy water bomb into Beth's face.
She isn't proud of how fast she flees. Next time, she promises herself. Next time that huntress will burn for good.
xXx
"Oi, Mulan," Crowley shouts when he finally spots a member of the squirrel squad. She looks a little worse for wear but she still has the use of her hands, so she'll be able to get the bloody cuffs off him.
"That glare would be more impressive if you didn't like as if that demon just put you through a grinder."
She looks unimpressed and staggers to her feet. "No, I'm perfectly fine, don't help me up," she drawls, though her statement ends in a pain-induced hiss.
"Remove my jewelry and I'll give you a lift back to the bunker; then you can whine to your girlfriend."
Alex' head snaps up. "What?!"
"Oh, we're politely ignoring the way Red's drooling over you?"
"She's not –"
"She is, and no one cares, now get a move on, I see demons heading our way."
Kahr gets the cuffs off just in time for the first mindless soldier to reach them. Crowley snaps his fingers and the bloke's hands come up to clasp his constricting throat before he grabs the huntress' arm and teleports them back to Lebanon –
- where they almost run into Red, who's clutching two bags and a knife.
"Charlie! What happened?" is all Alex gets the chance to ask before the place where the bunker should be blows up in vibrant green flames.
xXx
Dean breaks through the surface and coughs up a few ounces of Fountain water.
"What the hell, Cas?" he wheezes as his partner pulls himself up next to him.
"The White House, Dean," Cas pants, pointing at where one of the most monumental sights of Washington should be standing.
"Fuck me."
"I doubt this is the time or the place," Cas deadpans, making Dean chuckle despite the terrible situation.
A blink of an eye later they're not neck deep in water anymore but standing, and not in a park but in a street.
Haschmal steps back, nose bleeding but otherwise unharmed.
"What the hell?" Dean complains because seriously, he can only stand so much angel express in one day.
"The Beast was about to trample you, I had to get you out."
"In that case, what Dean means is 'thank you'," Cas says pointedly, only to be interrupted by a dying roar.
Haschmal holds up a hand briefly, blinks out of existence and is back a moment later. Dean would be getting whiplash if he hadn't seen angels do that for the past hour or two (however the fuck long this fight's been going on).
"The Beast is dead. The Antichrist is safe."
"Well, then get Gabriel, he can zap us back to the bunker and talk strategy."
Haschmal is gone immediately. That's how Dean likes the Bible Squad – ready to do what he tells them to.
Meanwhile, Cas is smiling at him. "Jesse did it."
"Boy sure as hell did," Dean agrees, sneaking an arm around Cas' waist and pulling him closer. The only thing that stops Dean from placing a kiss on Cas' lips is the flutter of wings and the sound of Haschmal clearing his throat.
"Uh. There seems to be a problem."
"What?"
"Gabriel. He… Lucifer took him."
A beat.
"Shit."
xXx
Gabriel squeezes his eyes even shutter than before when the first thing he feels upon waking up is intense pain. Not just headache-pain; real, hitting-the-eleven-on-a-scale-from-one-to-ten kinda pain.
"Ouch," he whines, lifting his hand to his head to clutch at his temple.
Or at least he tries. And fails. Because his hands are bound...
To a chair, as it turns out when he pries his eyes open despite their protests.
"Hello, brother," a too familiar voice greets him.
Yeah. Gabriel's feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong? He totally jinxed it.
xXx
End Notes: Only three or four more chapters to go until the grand finale (with more screentime for Dean and Cas)! I hope you're excited...
And I hereby promise to myself and to you, dear readers, that I will finish this fic before Supernatural resumes in January. Maybe even before New Year's, if I can manage :) How's that sound?
Trivia:
- Brian Remy is a homage to Brian Kinney from Queer as Folk and Remy Danton form House of Cards, by the way.
- I blame the Beast destroying the White House on the amount of political TV drama I have consumed in the past two weeks.
- The fact that Hell freezes over was inspired by it actually happening (and damn, I can't include links here, what form of torture is this? let's try it like this: huffingtonpost dot com slash roadtrippers slash polar-vortex-causes-hell-_b_4564497 dot html)