Episode 19 – Rule the World, part I
Summary: Armed with Death's scythe, Dean and Castiel prepare for a final confrontation with Lucifer. Meanwhile, Alex and Charlie manage to track down Merrick and Beth.
Author's Notes: Welcome to the grand, two-part finale!(I'm posting a day later than promised but I figured no one would have had the time on New Year's Eve even if I had managed to finish in time.)
Thanks to everyone who has stuck with this story despite its errors (which will be corrected because a lovely person volunteered to beta this monster). Seriously, your comment and kudos were a great motivator and I'd love for you to keep it up *winks*
This chapter comes with a WARNING for supernatural-style character death. I didn't put it in the tags because… well, this is Supernatural.
Let me remind you that I am a sucker for endings that satisfy the reader, so no need to despair.
*drum-roll* All right, let's get this show on the road.
xXx
There's a room where the light won't find you
Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down
When they do I'll be right behind you
So glad we've almost made it
So sad they had to fade it
Everybody wants to rule the world
Everybody wants to rule the world
- "Rule The World", Lorde
xXx
New Orleans, Louisiana
Like many other kids, Dylan liked tales about dragons and magic and adventure, pretended to be powerful like Merlin or a fierce warrior like King Arthur, though never did it occur to him that any of the myths might actually be real. So when his parents died when he was nine and his grandmother took him in, he was in for quite the surprise.
Turns out his parents never really took him to see the old woman because she owned a magic shop in New Orleans, one of the oldest and biggest in the entire country.
From then on out Dylan's life transformed – it filled with rituals, spells, ingredients. Then came Katrina and brought demons, werewolves and ghosts. Not that they hadn't existed before but the disaster made them more visible, especially when they tried to break into the shop that had by that point passed to Dylan after his grandmother's death.
The only problem was – the monsters couldn't get in.
Dylan is good at many things, though his real talent is warding magic. His wards are the strongest in the States and everyone knows it.
So when an ice storm veils the country in a layer of white powder, when the heat comes and when the Beast of the Sea destroys the White House a few states over, everyone panics but Dylan.
Nothing that tried to enter his shop with malicious intent managed to actually get in, though there are still enough customers around to justify keeping it open.
It's almost August when the bell jingles again – it hasn't done that too much lately, seeing as most of the humans that have made it this long are in the refugee camps with their angelic guards. Dylan looks up from the book he is reading and takes in the new arrivals; a woman with auburn hair, dressed in sturdy pants and a fashionable blouse, as well as a weathered-looking man, carrying himself like a someone who knows what it feels like to slit someone's throat without getting blood on his worn leather jacket.
They sidestep the rug hiding the devil's trap easily.
Dylan swallows. The only thing worse than demons is smart demons. And yet they bypassed the wards – either they cheated or they're here to purchase goods.
"How can I help you today?" he asks, trying his best to sound relaxed and not at all frightened.
"We heard you might have some rare ingredients," the woman says, placing a list written on a piece of white paper on the counter.
"As long as you're able to pay for it."
"You still demand money?" is the first thing the man says, raising an eyebrow, obviously unimpressed.
"No, but I accept any kind of weapon and from what I can see, the stuff you're looking for is not only rare, it's illegal."
"According to which law?" the woman parries.
"Touché," Dylan allows. "Luckily for you I don't discriminate against dark magic in here, so I might be able to help you."
"Might?" The man tugs at his jacket to reveal the handle of what appears to be a rather big knife.
"Are you threatening me or offering me your weapon as trade?" Dylan shoots back.
"Do you want to find out?"
"You will not pillage this shop and you will not harm me."
"Is that so?"
The man jumps across the counter as soon as the last syllable leaves his lips, only to be thrown backwards onto the floor and right into the devil's trap.
Oh, how Dylan loves it when newcomers don't know that he's got real mojo and all the hex bags are just for show and those lesser than him.
The woman, to her credit, catches on fairly quickly, raising her hands in a placating gesture. "Fine. We have weapons. Name your price."
"Well, judging by the stuff you need I can imagine what you're conjuring with it, so I'll wager a guess and say you're working for the Big Boss. Which means you can get me pretty much anything I ask for. How am I doing so far?"
"Very well," the woman grants, though Dylan can see how her neck has tensed when he hinted at Lucifer.
"Good. Then why don't you get me a hellhound and I'll have your order ready when you return?"
The demon blinks. "A hellhound?"
"Yes. It gets awfully lonely in here and I've always wanted a pet, though my granny was more of a cat person."
She considers him for a moment, then nods. "I'll be right back. Prepare our order. I'll leave my colleague here to keep an eye on you."
She draws a gun, shoots into the floor, breaking the devil's trap, and exits the shop with the bell jingling behind her.
xXx
The Suburbs, Washington, DC
"So you really don't know where he is?"
Dean can hear Cas' voice clearly from the other room where he's talking to Hannah while he's rummaging through the wardrobe in the master bedroom. They're a few houses down the road from where they squatted since no house has yielded any suitable clothing so far.
Not that Dean's got anything against bigger men but it's really annoying if the world's ending and you need clean clothes that ain't five sizes too big.
"All I know is that he seems to still be in Washington. I apologize that I cannot be of more help, Castiel."
"It's fine, Hannah. I know you're busy."
"And quite less successful than you appear to be."
"You cannot compare borrowing a weapon with protecting the entire human race."
"You talked to Death, Castiel," Hannah insists, and that's the point Dean decides he'll stop it with the eavesdropping and start concentrating on the important things.
The family seems to have had a son Dean's size who apparently only packed the bare essentials so there's still lots of clothing in the drawers – though seriously, who the hell puts their clothes in a drawer? Okay, apparently people who've got more suits than underwear, that's who, Dean reasons when he discovers some pretty sleek jackets hanging where he'd have thought the jeans would go.
Jeans. Cas in jeans, now there's a thought. Dean chuckles as he throws the pair onto the pile they're either changing into or taking with them.
Shit, he shouldn't have thought of Cas. He should've kept thinking about what a douchebag the guy whose room he's looting probably was, or really anything else, 'cause thinking about Cas means thinking about how he said the l-word last night and how this morning they woke up tangled up on the ground floor sofa. The sun was already up, its light streaming in through the windows and reflecting in Cas' hair, which obviously meant that Dean couldn't stop himself from running a hand through it, which in turn woke Cas who then smiled so fondly and so… so full of love that it's making Dean's heart beat faster just thinking about. This morning it literally took his breath away.
"I love you, Dean Winchester," Cas' voice echoes in Dean's head. "I don't need you to say it back but I need you to know that I have loved you for a while and I will keep loving you for the rest of our lives and beyond, no matter what happens."
No matter what happens. And really, it might be anything – they kill Lucifer and save the world; or they fail and will pay for all eternity. It's too unsure, too blurry and Dean can't for the life of him allow any thought about possible endings enter his mind 'cause he needs to keep his head on straight. He's got a job, a hunt, and all that feelings crap needs to wait 'til it's over, damn it.
"Did you find adequate clothing?" the former angel asks from the doorway.
Dean gestures toward the pile. "Enough to keep us going for a bit. Any word on our old pal?"
Cas shakes his head. "Nothing definite. Maybe he still resides in Washington, maybe not."
"Well, then let's start there; seeing as we're already in the vicinity. Here, get dressed." Dean tosses him a pair of jeans and a shirt and picks something for himself. "I want to get moving asap."
xXx
New Orleans, Louisiana
Dylan hears the woman before he sees her – or rather, he hears the hellhound before anything else.
It barks at him, though soon enough quiets down and sniffs his proffered hand.
"She's bound to you now. I nicked some of your hair for the spell, Harry Potter."
"Please, I'm much more powerful than Harry Potter," Dylan replies just as he always does when someone choses that particular nickname and crouches down next to the dog to pet it – pet her. He needs to work on a spell to allow him to see her. And he needs a name…
"Our things?" the man demands, so Dylan reluctantly stands up and hand them everything they asked for.
If money still were a viable currency, this purchase would have cost the demons at least a million dollars, if not more. The hellhound is a just trade, especially since it'll give Dylan the edge he needs to survive whatever else is coming.
"Pleasure doing business with you," is the last thing the woman says, her voice oozing sarcasm.
Dylan waits until they're gone before he reaches for his encrypted cell phone and hits speed dial. The woman he's come to know as Charlie picks up on the second ring.
"Yes?"
"Charlie, it's Dylan. Two demons just bought enough supplies to conjure a dragon. I thought you'd like to know."
"Wha – how did they look like?"
Dylan describes them to the best of his abilities, holding the phone with his left hand while his right is giving his newest companion a belly rub. Hellhounds are susceptible to belly rubs – who would have thought?
"Yes, they definitely sound like the people we're looking for. Thanks for this, Dylan. I hope they didn't hurt you."
"You might not know me, Charlie, but I am able to handle myself. And for the record, I made them trade me something even more valuable."
"Good. Well, if there's anything else, tell me?"
"Sure thing. I'm not going anywhere for the foreseeable future."
He hears the girl chuckle on the other end and ends the call.
xXx
Several state borders away, Charlie sprints down the stairs and into the room where she knows Alex is training. The huntress executes one last sidekick against the old wooden door on the other end of the room, then turns to face her, the "What?" written clearly across he face.
"We've got a lead on Beth and Merrick. They're probably about to conjure the Beast of the Earth."
"Then we better stop them," Alex grunts, launches another kick that successfully blasts the door from its hinges.
xXx
"Nope, the White House's nothing but dirt and rubble, no way a guy who only wears white suits's gonna live there, Cas."
"I don't know where else we could start. Unless you prefer to scour the entire city?"
"Fuck that, no way. But come on, there's gotta be a way to narrow this down…"
Dean heaves a sigh, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes in the hope of speeding up this process. They've been wandering the suburbs aimlessly, brainstorming about where they could find Lucifer, for the better part of two hours.
Cas releases an annoyed breath. "Maybe we should look for sustenance. Something warm might help us think."
"Yeah, let's see if we can find a house that's still got –"
"Dean?"
But he's already groaning, kicking at the sidewalk in frustration. "Damn it, Cas, how could we've been so stupid? Warm! Cold!"
"What are you talking about?"
"Lucifer runs cold! The last time he was around, he dropped the temperature of an entire block by twenty degrees! We find the coldest building in town, we find that son of a bitch!"
Cas blinks at him, eyes wide, and one second later he's kissing Dean, wild and enthusiastic. Dean can't help loosing himself in it for a few minutes until they break apart, both of them breathing more heavily.
"So how do we find the coldest building in the city?"
"Well, I'm sure your winged friends'll help us out if we ask nicely, right?"
Cas smiles at that, places another kiss on his cheek, then closes his eyes to pray for a ride upstairs.
xXx
"Do you dear girls even know where you're going?" Crowley drawls from the doorway. Red and Kahr are packing hex bags and ammo like villains on the way to the last shootout with the police, yet neither of them seems to have much of a plan.
"We'll figure it out," Alex grits out, not even lifting her eyes from her weapons.
"What a well-thought out plan, Thelma and Louise. Frankly I'm appalled that Lucifer's still walking the earth when we have such great strategists on our side."
"You got a better plan?" Alex oh-so-predictably snaps.
"As a matter of fact, yes."
The huntress finally grants him her full attention, crossing her arms over her chest as she turns to face him. "Let's hear it, then."
"First, we perform a locating spell. I know one incantation that requires the demon's former human name and won't be felt by the targets. Based on what we find, we'll work out an adequate plan of attack."
The two girls are quiet for a moment, then Alex objects, "How can we be sure you're not lying to us and will have us walking into a trap?"
"What would I have to gain?"
"Maybe you've re-established contact with some old demon pals. Trade us for reduced sentence."
"I doubt anything I might be able to offer Lucifer will make him forget the part I played in his downfall and how I blatantly filled the power vacuum with my own, humble self. Besides, I don't want to be leveraged against a car."
In the end, it's Red who decides to trust him. "We really have no other choice, do we? We're dead in the water without any hint of where to find them."
Alex' jaw is set and she is quiet for several seconds that trickle by slowly until she finally nods, albeit reluctantly. "Fine. But you better have all the ingredients ready."
"Five minutes. I'll be back before you have powdered your green noses," Crowley sneers and blinks out of existence.
xXx
With the help of the angel squad, locating the coldest building in Washington goes surprisingly quick. If only there were only the one…
"What do you mean, there's four?" Dean asks, shooting Hannah an incredulous look.
"See these four bright spots?" She points to them on the map of Washington that is spread out on the desk in front of them. "All of these are almost twenty degrees colder than the surrounding buildings. If Lucifer had been to three of them in the past, they would have warmed up by now; however they are all equally cold."
"It could be a spell," Cas suggests. "He would assume we might try to locate him like this."
"So how are we supposed to figure out which one's the real Evil Inc.?"
"Perhaps the buildings itself will provide some clues," Hannah muses. "One of them is a school, presumably abandoned now."
"Lots of space, facilities, computer rooms – looking good," Dean reasons, though motions for Hannah to give them more intel.
"These two are both normal houses. Granted, they are slightly larger than average human dwellings, though there is nothing special about them."
"And this one?" Cas asks, pointing to the one closest to the White House. Or what's left of it anyway.
"A corporate building. Skyscraper."
Dean can feel a tug in his gut. "What's the corporation called?"
"Uh, Remy & Vause."
"That's it!" Dean shouts. "That black dude, that publicist guy – his name was Brian Remy. I betcha he jumped on the Lucifer train when he took over the building. My guess is they're camped out there. Probably 'cause it's strategically close to the capitol."
"How can you know?" Hannah wonders, genuinely confused.
"I trust my gut. My gut says it's this building."
"Your gut?"
"It is a human thing. You might think of it as instincts, or a sort of sixth sense," Cas translates.
"At least I'm not seeing dead people," Dean jokes, and only Cas gets it, smiling softly. Angels, seriously.
Hannah still looks bewildered, yet she shakes her head and squares her shoulders. "Then I will trust your instincts, Dean Winchester. All the troops I can spare are yours if you want them."
"Oh, music to my ears, man."
Hannah's brow furrows. All Cas does is roll his eyes fondly. Dean grins at both of them.
xXx
Lucifer is surveying a large map of the world, hung on the wall and sporting many differently colored pins to indicate the level of chaos and anarchy of the respective regions, when there is a knock on the door.
A flick of his wrist and it slides open, revealing a smiling Brian Remy. When the most stoic man to ever stand in his presence is smiling, then Lucifer knows to expect very good news.
"I have some pictures to show you," is his opening line as he passes the printouts over. Lucifer raises an eyebrow when he accepts the paper. "Oh, I thought you might want them printed. I gather you have been waiting quite a while for this."
Intrigued despite himself, Lucifer turns the photographs around. Red. So much red, flowing down the riverbed.
"All this is blood?"
"Yes. Maybe some rain, since there have been a few drops lately, but about ninety percent of this is actual, human blood."
So the Euphrates finally runs red with the blood of the dead. Oh sweet, sweet carnage.
"Well done, Brian. Why don't you take a red pin and stick the picture where it belongs?"
"Me?"
"Do you see anyone other than you who is called Brian and being addressed right now? I thought you were exceptionally smart."
"I apologize – it's just such an honor."
"Save me from your toadying. I am under no delusion as to why you're working for me, so pandering to me will be of no use."
"Alright. But still. It's…"
Thankfully the human leaves it at that and just gets on with it. While he is pinning the picture to the wall, Lucifer's eyes land on the calendar next to the door. It is one of these big poster ones, yet designed in unassuming red and grey with the firm's logo in the upper right corner.
"What day is it?" Lucifer asks without bothering to look at Brian.
He contemplates for a second. "August first."
A dark chuckle escapes Lucifer, which apparently terrifies his publicist slightly. Well, it had better. "Tell everyone to be extra vigilant today. Oh, and does this building per chance have a garden?"
"Yes… You have to exit through the back. Four office buildings share it. It's not big, but it is green. Or used to be. I haven't seen it since our change in management."
"I might take a look later."
The other man takes it as the dismissal that it is, exiting the room at an easy yet brisk pace. It's really nice for a change to have underlings who understand his needs and no matter how much it surprises Lucifer, Brian Remy does. There is no doubt in Lucifer's mind that he will alert every demon in the building, not spending any time pondering the reason behind the orders.
1st August 2014. Lucifer has hardly been so eager to see what a day would bring.
xXx
Federal lands, southern Nevada
"Area 51? Are you kidding me?"
"Well, the mystery of the land maybe suits the mystery of the feat they are about to undertake."
"Crowley, no one cares for your opinion," Alex snaps, tightening her grip on her gun.
"Oh, but you should. The ground is not shaking yet, so we have time to set up a perimeter, circle them; pull the noose tighter, as they say."
"Can you circle someone with three people?" Red wonders and Crowley has to stifle an exasperated groan.
"Metaphorically. Am I correct in assuming that you will want to take care of Beth yourself, dear Miss Kahr?"
"She's mine. I promised –"
"Yeah, you promised your dying brother who's probably watching from Heaven and torn between hoping you'll die trying to be able to play with him sooner, and rooting for you to win, I get it," Crowley interrupts her. Frankly he's had enough of her vendetta. Cannot be healthy, really. Vendettas in general – not good for your health, nor for the bloke you're after. Really, all vendettas should be abolished, especially Lucifer's… "I will take on Merrick and you, Red, work your magic from afar until it looks like we need you. Everyone clear on the plan?"
It takes half a minute, though both of them nod.
Crowley gulps down a deep breath, unwilling to show how nervous he is. Really, how did he get from being a common crossroads demon, minding his own business, to actively confronting one of the most powerful demons he knows?
Bugger, it's too late to reconsider his life choices now. Now he has an attack to execute.
xXx
"And remember," Dean calls out, standing tall and strong and Castiel has to force himself to listen to his words and not simply stay mesmerized by his demeanor. "You guys storm the building and get Gabriel out. I want one unit outside, taking care of any cowards wanting to jump ship. Cas and I'll be circling 'round to the garden. I got a feeling that's where we'll find Lucifer."
Why he does so remains a mystery. Castiel has asked, repeatedly, and has been dismissed or placated with evasive answers every time. Dean is hiding information and Castiel dislikes it greatly.
Which is why he stops their advance halfway around the building, shortly before Dean intends to give the signal.
"Dean, what is going on? This is not the time to keep secrets."
"It's nothing, Cas, really –"
"If it's nothing then you might as well tell me."
"Damn, you ain't gonna budge 'til you got me to spill, are you?"
"No."
Dean deflates visibly and suddenly Castiel feels a pang of guild of causing his lover such negative emotions.
"Back when your old BFF Zach still ran the show, he put me in an alternate reality. It was the Croatoan virus then, but the end results were still the same: most of humanity dead, only a few of us still out there, fighting the good fight. You were some sort of crazy-ass hippie having orgies – man, that was weirder than weird, I gotta tell you. But…"
"Yes?"
"Well, we confronted Lucifer. On August first, 2014. And I watched that douchebag in Sammy's body killing the other me."
Castiel has to digest this, then quell the anger rising in his chest at the thought that Dean would have gone into this situation with the knowledge that another him in another universe tried and failed. Castiel wants to shake him, slap him, cuff him to the radiator back at their last house and take the scythe to Lucifer's throat himself.
Castiel doesn't do any of these things. Instead, he crowds Dean against the wall and kisses his as if his life depends on it.
"Dean, you are the strongest man I know. You have the mightiest weapon of all and you will not perish like the vision that my former brother fabricated to convince you to do his bidding. I love you, and you can do it."
Something melts in Dean's eyes, some of the tension bleeds out of his body and he stares. Castiel can see the moment the words form in Dean's mind, yet before the other man even opens his mouth, Castiel has put a finger against his lips to silence him.
"Please don't say it, Dean. Don't make this sound like a good-bye. Tell me after we succeed."
For a slit second it looks as if his partner might argue, though he decides against it in the end. Castiel steps back and lets Dean pass, scythe secure in his hand. Then he closes his eyes, sending a quick prayer to every angel in their vicinity – their agreed upon signal.
What is hopefully their last battle against the devil starts with the sound of shattering glass.
xXx
Alex has to force herself to stay calm and collected. She's none of these things, at least not on the inside, with Beth standing only several feet away. Everything that has happened since that fateful night at her house, every decision made, every demon killed, every human saved – it has all led her to this moment.
She takes a deep breath, checking her aim. Breathe out – release.
The shot echoes like the crack of a whip, hitting the bowl in Beth's hand and shattering it into pieces before the ritual can be completed.
It's Charlie's turn after that, throwing holy water bombs at the two demons while Alex changes weapons and sprints forward, ready to fulfill what she promised her brother months ago.
xXx
Crowley intercepts Merrick before he can zap to Red.
"Nah, I don't think so. I still have a bone to pick with you. Several bones, in fact."
The grin playing about his former general's mouth is more of a leer than anything else. He cackles, apparently amused by Crowley's foolhardiness. Well, no one finds it stranger than he does himself.
"Oh, I'd say we're square."
"Is that so? Am I to understand, then, that you did not undermine my position behind my back, break the sixty-six seals and pull the most moronic coup d'état I have ever witnessed?"
Merrick sighs, shaking his head. "What was I to do if you forget the promises you made?"
"I never break promises." A beat. "Alright, fine, I do, all the time as a matter of fact, but what on this slightly-less-green-and-more-red earth have I made you think you could have?"
"Knighthood, a leading position, more authority. Take your pick, Crowley," Merrick snaps. "Instead you keep me in the cellar, torturing soul after soul – which, don't get me wrong, gives me great pleasure. Yet I thought you called me your best warrior. Isn't it reasonable to be angry when you select the new Knights of Hell and I am not among them?"
Crowley has to blink several times to process all this bollocks. "Oh no, how could I?" he eventually cries out in mock-worry. "What was I thinking? Maybe that you're too bloody headstrong to fit into a group of mindless soldiers, you daft git! I can't believe this…"
"You should have given me the recognition I deserve."
"Oh, and Lucifer does?"
"He honours my skills and allows me autonomy."
"Until you look at him the wrong way."
"Times have changed, Crowley. It's not like that anymore."
"So he says."
"He acts like it, too."
"I don't know about you, but I think we've reached an impasse. And frankly, I'm growing bored."
Merrick's answer isn't verbal but purely physical – he smirks before throwing himself into his first attack.
Too bad that Crowley has seen Merrick fight often enough to know most of his moves. This will be as easy as teaching Juliet a new trick.
xXx
Gabriel would have liked to say that he played a vital part in his own rescue. That he beat down ten, twenty demons on his way out.
But his body won't even hold him upright anymore, exhaustion and pain and lack of rest wearing him down, so playing the hero is out of the picture when Hannah slams through the window with half of Heaven's army.
The demons have been vigilant all day and Gabriel has yet to figure out how the ever-loving fuck his dear brother was able to determine which day his saviors would arrive. Not that lowlifes like these in Luci's HQ are any match for an army of angels, vigilant or not.
The devil himself is nowhere to be found and his minions fall like flies.
"You're alive," Hannah whispers reverently as she spies him. She looks different, somehow; fiercer, stronger, and older, as if she aged by a millennium in the past two weeks. Two and a half? Time's become a fuzzy concept for him.
"Fit as a fiddle," Gabriel tries to say, though it comes out as a rasp and ends in a truly pathetic coughing fit.
"We need to get you out of here and back to the Host," Hannah decides without even checking with him for confirmation.
Wow, someone had a crash course in leadership. Good for her.
Gabriel looses track of what's happening for a bit at that point, only coming back when he feels the rope fall away.
"Can you stand?" Hannah inquires. Gabriel tries, he really does, but his legs give out the second he tries to straighten up. Apparently humans aren't build to make it through two weeks of being bound to a chair and tortured unscathed. Go figure.
One moment later Hannah has commandeered another angel and told them to zap Gabriel's ass right back to Heaven and tend to him. Admittedly, Hannah's choice of words wasn't nearly as colorful, but you get the gist.
It only takes one moment and then, finally, Gabriel is home.
xXx
It's with a sick sense of dejà-vu that Dean rounds the last corner after checking in with Cas. The garden's small, but bigger than in Zach's vision; it's green, has a stone bench and – roses.
It's also empty.
"What the –" Dean begins, but then a familiar voice interrupts him, seemingly disembodied. He whirls around, Cas mirroring him, trying to locate its source.
"Whatever you do, you will always end up here. Whatever choices you make, whatever details you alter – we will always end up… here."
A flash of thunder, then Lucifer is standing where he stood all these years ago, suit just as white. His hair is longer, one side framing his face, the other one tucked behind his ear.
"Wasn't that what I told you?"
It's Sammy, but it's not Sammy. Dean can feel goose bumps covering his arms and he grips the scythe tighter.
"Well, this is new," Lucifer notes, taking in the scythe, then Cas behind him. "And you brought a friend. Do you think if you won't gather the courage to kill your own brother, you lover will?"
"I'll end you, you son of a bitch. I promised I'd find a way and here I am. So are we gonna dick around all day and talk about our feelings or are you gonna fight me?"
Lucifer merely smiles. The asshole's too damn calm. Well, pride before the fall, and all that.
"You cannot goad me, Dean. I don't need to prove my manhood to Daddy anymore."
Suddenly demons appear out of nowhere, five of them. Cas and he are truly and epically surrounded now.
"Your brother is screaming at me that I cannot hurt you since it was part of our deal," Lucifer continues while Dean and Cas move so they're back-to-back, Dean holding the scythe, Cas the demon-killing knife. "However, seeing as you came here with the one thing that is definitely able to kill me, I consider that condition of our agreement null and void. Go on."
The last part is directed at his minions, who launch themselves at them. Dean barely grazes one with the scythe's tip and it immediately combusts into ashes.
He has enough time to mumble, "Awesome!" before the second demon is coming at him. He senses Cas behind him, burying his weapon to the hilt inside a body.
Dean keeps fighting like that – one eye on his opponents, one eye on Cas. Of course he misses the moment when it's Lucifer attacking him.
xXx
Crowley is losing.
When he realises how truly and utterly buggered he is, it's already too late. Merrick has manoeuvred him into a corner, is gaining more and more footing with every blow. There isn't enough zapping in the world that Crowley can do to escape – Merrick is always a hair's breadth behind him, carving knife in hand, it's blade glistening with the blood it has already drawn.
In one last bout of strength, fuelled more by desperation than reason, Crowley aims to break free, cast Merrick down and then – like he should have done long ago – run as fast as he can and never seek out anyone ever again.
Only he has genuinely underestimated how much Merrick's powers have grown ever since Lucifer has joined the picture.
Crowley is on the ground a second later, not Merrick. He is the one holding the knife, he is the one pinning Crowley to the dusty soil with it and his powers.
"Well, go on, then. Kill me. I know you have been itching for this, haven't you?" Crowley dares him, pretending the blind panic rising in his chest is not there.
"Oh now, why would I kill you when Lucifer wants you alive?"
Merrick's hand moves so fast Crowley barely sees it and then ice-cold metal closes around his wrist. Whatever it is, it's laced with salt and adorned by a devil's trap and when the second cuff snaps into place and Merrick's eyes sparkle with evil satisfaction, Crowley wishes he his path had never ever crossed that of the bloody Winchesters.
xXx
Weeks of fighting have toned Castiel's reflexes and sharpened his senses. He deals with the army of demons easily. There are never too much for him to handle – a continuous flow of opponents, all of them strong yet none of them Winchester-trained.
A flash of white in the corner of his eye. A grunt from Dean.
Cas whirls around, taking in the image of Dean and Lucifer fighting each other, Sam's body moving with almost laid-back calm, Dean's swift and fierce.
For the moment it looks well enough for Castiel to focus once more on the demons, yet his eyes keep straying, his mind keeps drifting. One of the demons manages to wound him, a gash across his side that immediately starts oozing blood. Castiel ignores it, yet he soon realizes that it is time for plan B.
It takes some maneuvering and two more demons fall to the ground, dead, until he manages to light the fuse of the explosive hex bag and throw it towards the next wave of attackers.
The blast only affects demons, no angels, which means everyone but Lucifer, Dean and Castiel are thrown backwards and immediately burst into flames. Their screams are still echoing through the garden when Castiel turns.
His blood freezes in his veins. His breath catches. Time slows.
Dean is lying on the ground, his eye bruised and his lip bleeding, clothes stained green from the grass, Lucifer towering over him. The scythe is lying on the ground, ten inches too far away for Dean's outstretched hand to reach it.
Lucifer moves his fingers, eyes trained on the weapon.
Castiel makes a decision.
xXx
Charlie weighs the last holy water bomb in her hand. Alex is bleeding from a bullet wound to her shoulder but she's still moving. Not that Beth is faring much better, though if Charlie wastes her last shot then she's out of options.
She throws.
And misses.
The distraction is enough for Alex to launch herself at the demon once more, with the fervor of a desperate woman who's lost everything. Beth sees it coming – her outstretched hand closes around Alex' throat, lifting her off the ground. Alex' weapon falls to the floor and Charlie knows what she's about to do goes against every single one of the huntress' wishes but screw that –
Her feet move, then her hand, closing around the long knife at her belt.
She rams it into Beth's throat, blood pouring out of the wound immediately as she releases her hold on Alex. One last hex bag, one last secret weapon Charlie brought form Oz.
She stuffs it into Beth's gaping mouth, open in a silent scream or maybe she's actually screaming Charlie can't tell, all she can tell is that Beth's eyes smoke out and she topples over, just an empty vessel with nothing inside anymore.
"NO!" Alex shouts, her voice hoarse from being choked. Charlie feels a pang of guilt but no regret as Alex shakes Beth's lifeless form as if trying to will her back to earth so she can kill her all over again.
xXx
Time unfreezes.
Castiel breaks into a sprint just as the scythe flies into Lucifer's outstretched hand and Dean's body is dragged upright by invisible hands.
Every fiber of his being has one thought, and one thought only – a frantic chorus of notDeannotDeannotDean is filling his lungs and pumping his blood.
Lucifer's arm extends back, ready to snap forward in a second.
Castiel jumps, his hands gripping Dean's shoulders as his body moves into the scythe's trajectory.
The last thing Castiel sees are Dean's beautiful green eyes, widening when they meet Castiel's own.
xXx
A blink later. No pain. There should be pain. Shouldn't there? Instead, there is a hand on his arm.
Castiel opens his eyes.
Next to him stands Death himself, eyes focused on something straight ahead. When he follows his line of sight, Castiel spies himself, pierced by the scythe, standing protectively in front of Dean. The scene seems frozen in time, almost like an art installation in a museum.
"I have to admit it gives me great satisfaction to reap you, Castiel," Death says, finally turning around to look at him.
Castiel thinks he should probably feel sorry about himself, yet nothing is further from his mind.
"What will happen to Dean? Why aren't they moving? Tell me what's going on!"
"I do not like your tone, young man."
"I don't care! You've already got me where you want me! I'll gladly follow you wherever you'll take me but please, tell me what happens to Dean."
Death wrinkles his nose as though Castiel is a particularly nasty type of cockroach, yet he snaps his finger and the scene unfreezes. Castiel watches, tense, how his body combusts into ashes at Dean's feet and Lucifer withdraws the scythe, apparently preparing for another blow.
It never hits its target.
The air buzzes, something resonates on a frequency too high for Castiel to hear and suddenly a white light emanates from Dean, so bright that Castiel has to shield his eyes.
When he opens them again, Dean is gone, as is the scythe, and Lucifer is screaming in hot fury at the sky.
"Wh- what was that?"
"Hmm, who might have the motivation to see Dean unharmed with the scythe returned to him. Whoever might be powerful enough to accomplish such a feat. Whoever might care enough to actually engage in the petty lives of humans."
Death's voice is flat, almost bored. But Castiel understands, his chest constricting with too many feelings for his human body to hold.
"Thank you, father," he whispers, and follows Death into realms unknown.
xXx
Dean shoots awake, eyes darting left, right, up, down, his heart trying to beat out of his chest and hammering against his rib cage.
"Baby", he murmurs softly as he recognizes the familiar dashboard and the feel of the leather against his back, sunlight streaming in through the front window and reflecting off of something on the passenger seat – the scythe.
What the -?
It all suddenly comes back to him like a flood.
"Cas?" he asks, then repeats his question. No answer reaches him and he can feel a sense of dread overcome him, clog up his veins and twist his insides.
"CAS?!" he screams, getting out of the car, unseeing.
"CAS!"
xXx
I woke up in somebody's arms
Strange and so familiar
Where nothing could go wrong
Barely alive or nearly dead
Somehow awake in my own bed
And there you are
Like a highway headed my way
Life is but a dream
I was shot down by your love
My angel in blue jeans
- "Angel in Blue Jeans", Train
xXx
End Notes: *hands-you-tissues* I'm not sorry… for the most part. I'm so happy I finally made it to this chapter because this is the point I've been writing towards ever since I had it all hashed out.
I hope I haven't alienated anyone and I will get the next and final (yes!) chapter to you by tomorrow to soothe this damn cliffhanger...