Thank you so much Jenjoremy for all your hard work, and thank you Gredelina1 and SandraEngstrom2 for all your help.
Here we go, the penultimate full chapter. I hope you enjoy.
Chapter Twenty-One
Someone cleared his throat by the door to the back. Dean looked and saw Gabriel standing there, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes amused. "Feeling a little lost there, boys? Let me explain…"
"You saved them?" Sam asked, his tone doubtful.
"No, they were a side effect of me saving this fine example of American craftsmanship," Gabriel said, patting the wall. He rolled his eyes. "Of course I saved them. Though, I admit, I do have fond memories of this place, too. That right there was where Momma Bear stood when she shot me, and that stool is where I would sit when I was pretending to be a tourist while you were trapped in Deanless world, Sam. Good times…"
"Why would you save us?" Ellen asked. Dean was wondering the same thing. Like Gabriel said, Ellen had once shot him.
"Because I figured you'd lost enough for one week," he said, answering Ellen's question but keeping his eyes on Sam and Dean, and Dean didn't detect a lie. "I'm sorry about your father."
Dean swallowed hard at the mention of their loss. "Thank you."
Gabriel nodded then smiled slightly. "And here comes the cutest angel in the garrison."
Castiel appeared in front of them. His blade dropped into his hand and his stance stiffened. "Gabriel. What have you done?"
"Me? Only saved the lives of three of the little humans you're so fond of." He looked amused. "Put the pig sticker away, Castiel. You know it won't hurt me anyway."
Sam leaned forward and slowly pushed Castiel's arm down, lowering his blade. Castiel turned, confused, and Sam said, "It's okay, Cas. I think he's on the level."
Castiel eyed him for a moment and nodded. "You are not the cause of the destruction then?"
"Nope. That was all on Lucifer. Or I suppose technically it was Death, but we all know whose orders he's following, don't we? See, when you clever little capuchins took out Pestilence, blasting his Croatoan hopes to kingdom come at the same time, you annoyed Lucifer a little. He had such grand plans for ending humanity, and they literally went up in smoke. He's apparently decided to do it old school. Not sure he's planning on a flood like Daddy, but he's taking out your race one way or another."
"And you're going to help us?" Castiel asked.
Gabriel shook his head. "Not so much. I've done my bit. I just came to deliver a warning and little piece of apocalypse trivia. Shall we sit?" He snapped his fingers and a bottle of whiskey and five glasses appeared on their usual table. He snapped his fingers again and Dean found himself sitting between Sam and Ash at the table, one of the empty glasses now holding a generous measure of whiskey in his hand.
"What the…?" Sam started.
"Here's the thing," Gabriel said as if there had been no interruption. "Michael has taken a vessel. Not his destined one, obviously"—he nodded to Dean—"but he found someone who'll work out."
"That's what I've heard, too," Castiel said. "I have not been able to discover who it is."
Gabriel shrugged. "Does it really matter anyway? Point is, Michael is going to be coming for Lucifer. Obviously he'd prefer it if he was riding you at the time, Sam, but I wouldn't put it past him to go ahead with things as they are. In short, you're out of time."
Dean took a swig of his whiskey and gasped as it burned his throat.
"Is there nothing we can do?" Ellen asked, tears in her voice.
"Of course there's something," Gabriel said. "I wouldn't be here otherwise. I'd be sunning myself in Fiji and enjoying the world while I can." He drew a breath. "Rings. The horsemen's rings you've been collecting, they're not just accessories. They're keys—keys to the cage. It's still down there. Get the rings, say the magic words, and you've got yourself a direct highway to the cage."
Sam breathed out heavily and his eyes fixed on Dean.
"We're still a ring down though," Dean said. "We don't have Death's."
"I'm aware," Gabriel said, nodding. "But he shouldn't be hard to track down given the path of destruction he is currently cleaving through the country." He pointed at the TV mounted on the wall and it came to life. A video was playing, showing what looked like a town being decimated by a storm. Trees were bent almost double or else being ripped from the ground and grey clouds rolled overhead. "Hurricane Julian," Gabriel said. "Currently working its north through Pennsylvania, heading to…"
"Sonny!" Dean gasped.
Sam turned to look at him and his eyes were wide. "Dean…"
"We have to go!" Dean lurched to his feet, his knees catching the edge of the table and rattling the glasses.
"Cas," Sam said, his voice commanding. "Sonny's. Now."
"But…" Ellen started, but whatever she was going to say was lost as Castiel swept them away.
Sam was expecting to arrive into a storm, but the air was deceptively calm over Hurleyville. There was a gentle breeze, the sky was blue, birds sang, and in the distance there was the drone of a small airplane. There were a couple kids playing catch on the grass in front of the farmhouse and on the steps sat Sonny and Mitch, each with a can of soda in his hand and a glossy looking brochure on Mitch's lap.
"Sonny!" Dean shouted.
Sonny looked up, a smile on his lips that turned down when he saw Dean's panicked face. "What's wrong?" he asked, hurrying towards them.
"Storm coming," Dean said breathlessly. "You've got to get everyone underground."
Sonny's eyes scanned the horizon. "I don't think so, Dean."
"Trust us," Sam said forcefully. "It's coming."
Sonny looked worried for the first time. "Is this your kind of storm?"
Mitch sidled up to them. He scowled at Dean and addressed Sam. "What's going on?"
"Big storm," Sam said. "You guys have a basement?" A place this big had to have one. He hoped.
"Yeah," Sonny said. "It's through the kitchen."
Sam cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Playtime's over, kids! Get inside now!"
The two boys who had been playing catch came running over. "Sonny?" one asked. "What's going on?"
"Storm coming," Sonny said. "You boys get inside and downstairs."
They boys ran off, their small shoulders tensed and heads ducked down.
Dean looked around. "Where's everyone else?"
Sonny looked stricken. "They're out in the north field, playing."
"We'll get them," Sam said. "You got a whistle or something?"
"Kitchen drawer by the sink."
Sam ran to the house, almost crashing into Sonny's woman of work, Ruth. She barely seemed to see him. She ran outside to Sonny. Sam went into the kitchen and rooted through the drawer for the whistle. He found it and spun to head back outside when the voice on the radio penetrated his mind. A somber and professional voice was saying, "This is not a test. The hurricane currently sweeping through Pennsylvania is on a course north. It is expected to reach outlying cities in the next ten minutes. That is Poughkeepsie, Monticello, Ellenville and Hurleyville. If you are in these areas, take shelter. This storm joins the ones currently affecting The Dakotas, Wyoming and Montana."
Sam fled the room, running toward Castiel and shouting his name. Ruth was babbling to Sonny about the coming storm but Sam spoke over her. "Cas, go get Bobby! Now!"
"What's wrong?" Dean asked.
"There a storm hammering South Dakota, too. He's going for the people we care about, Dean. First Ellen, now here, and Bobby's next. We have to get him out of there." Seeing Castiel still standing there, looking confused, he raised his voice. "Get him out of there, Cas! Get him to The Roadhouse and protect them all. If the storm follows, haul their asses out. Take them to Alaska if that's what it takes; just keep them safe!"
Castiel nodded and disappeared. Sam turned his attention to Dean who looked stricken. He squeezed his shoulder and said. "North fields?"
Dean pointed.
"How many kids?"
"Twelve," Sonny said.
Sam and Dean set off running and Dean called back over his shoulder, "Get them inside, Sonny!"
They raced around the barn and out into the fields. Sam put the whistle in his mouth and blew unsteady blasts on it as he ran. Dean was shouting. "Time, kids! Come on now!"
Sam wondered for a moment why he didn't use something a little more likely to motivate them to moves their asses, but he realized that if they were to start shouting about a hurricane, the kids would panic. Dean was using commands they were familiar with—and hopefully obedient to.
Sam saw the kids coming toward them at slow jogs; as they got closer he saw their disappointed faces at their playtime being interrupted. He did a quick headcount and saw there were twelve just as Sonny had said.
"Dean?" a boy at the front of the group said. "What's going on?" He sounded wary.
"Nothing, Russ," Dean said easily, his tense expression smoothing. "Ruth's decided on early lunch and she's in a bear of a mood. Tell you what, let's race back!"
The kids laughed and whooped and set off running full pelt. There was one who lagged though—a kid who looked to be no older than six. Sam wondered what kind of family would leave a kid that young to a place like this.
"Hey, kid," he said. "You wanna win?"
The kid nodded, looking forlornly after his fellows as they raced away from him.
"Come here," Sam swept him into his arms and holding him against his chest, he started running after the boys and Dean.
He felt the child laughing against his chest, even though he made sure to keep their pace just a little behind the others. He didn't want to lose any of them.
"Faster!" the child chanted. "Faster! Faster!"
When they were almost at the house, Sam surged ahead, and the child crowed jubilantly.
Sonny was standing on the porch, his hands running nervously through his hair. When Sam reached them, he set the kid down in front of him and turned to watch Dean and the others come to a panting stop.
"Inside now," Sonny said, "straight down to the basement."
"What?" Russ said, looking back at Dean. "You said…"
At that moment the breeze died and an eerie feeling of doom settled over the group. Sam had been through enough storms to know what was coming. He looked up at the sky and saw the rolling grey clouds obliterating the blue.
"Inside!" he snapped and was thankfully obeyed. Sonny shepherded the kids through the kitchen and down the stairs to the basement, Sam and Dean following.
The room was vast, the full size of the farmhouse, and thankfully set up for emergencies. There was a stack of blankets and pillows, a CB radio and a pallet of bottled water.
"After you boys set up the house for… you know," Sonny said, "I figured we should be ready to bunker down."
"'You know'?" Mitch asked from his place between two of the younger looking children.
"Energy," Sam said, winking at him.
He looked worried still, but when Sam looked pointedly at the kids on either side of him he nodded and turned his attention back to them. He would be expecting an explanation later, Sam knew, but he would come up with something other than the truth to tell him. The kid didn't need the nightmares.
Dean tugged on Sam's arm and led him over to the stairs. "Bobby," he said meaningfully.
"I know," Sam said. "But we can't do anything that we haven't already done. Even without Cas getting him away, he's got the panic room. Nothing's going to reach him in there. He might lose the house, but there are worse things."
Dean nodded, though he still looked tense. "There are so many others though."
"We can't protect the world, Dean," Sam reminded him. "Not from something like this. All we can do is take care of the ones that we can and hope for the best for the others."
"Doesn't make it any easier though, does it?"
Sam shook his head. No. It definitely didn't make it easy.
He sat down on the bottom step and put his head in his hands. His mind was presenting him with faces of people he knew: Rufus, Missouri, Mackey, Isaac and Tamara, any one of hundreds of other people Sam had saved over the years. They were all out there, maybe facing the same type of storms. Would they make it through? What was going to become of the world?
When the storm hit, it was like a jet taking off beside them. Ruth screamed and some of the kids burst into tears. Sam watched Sonny, Mitch and Dean moving among them, wrapping blankets around small shoulders and handing out water to serve as a distraction.
They seemed to have things under control, so Sam stayed seated and just listened to the wind moaning and howling above them.
He didn't know how long had passed, it felt like forever, before he heard a sound separate to the howl of the wind. Footsteps and a tap as if of metal against wood.
He glanced around to see if anyone else could hear it, but no one looked anything other than scared. Even Sonny and Dean, trying to reassure the kids, couldn't hide the fear in their eyes.
"Dean," he called.
Dean turned from the kid he was talking to and then came over to Sam. The sound of the wind was loud, but Sam didn't want to risk being overheard, so he leaned close to Dean and spoke in his ear. "He is here."
"Lucifer?" Dean asked.
Sam shook his head. "I don't think so. Death."
"How do you know?"
"I can hear him. Can't you?"
Dean concentrated for a moment and then shook his head. "What do we do?"
"Talk to him," Sam said simply. "I'm going up."
Dean's eyes widened. "You're kidding, right? Sam, there's a hurricane raging up there."
"He won't let it kill me," Sam said. "He wants to help us. He has what we need. Death is our salvation, remember? He's going to give me his ring."
Dean looked doubtful. "We don't know that."
Sam closed his eyes for a moment and focused, the footsteps were still there, though they seemed to be drawing away.
"I don't have time to argue," he said. "I am sure I am right. I'm going up, Dean." He turned away and took one step up before Dean grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "I'm going with you."
Sam shook his head violently. "You need to stay here with the kids. They're freaked out already. Imagine what it's going to be like when they see me walking into a hurricane?"
It wasn't the most moral thing Sam had ever done, using Dean's need to take care of the kids in his favor, but it worked. Dean looked between Sam and the kids grouped against the wall and nodded.
"You be damn careful," he ordered.
"I will," Sam said. "Don't worry."
He patted Dean's shoulder and carried on up the stairs. With one hand on the door handle he looked over his shoulder and shouted, "Cover your eyes," They all obeyed but Dean. He stared at Sam as he opened the door and stepped through.
The floorboards beneath his feet vibrated and the walls shook. They were still standing though, and Sam was thankful. Sonny and the kids didn't need to lose their home.
He listened hard for the footsteps again and heard them on the plank boards of the porch. He hurried out of the kitchen through the back door. It was a nightmare. The rain pelted the ground and the wind ripped through the air. Debris rushed past Sam's eyes so fast he couldn't make out what it had been before the storm. He looked around, searching for a glimpse of Death, and saw the red barn that had stood proud the other side of the yard was losing the boards that made its walls one by one. Sam felt none of it though. The wind that he could see raging came to him as a breeze that ruffled his hair. The debris that whipped around him didn't make contact. It was as if he was in a bubble of protection.
"Hello, Sam."
Sam spun to the side and saw a man standing beside him. He had dark hair combed back from his skeletal face, and he wore a black suit and overcoat. In his hand was a silver tipped cane.
"Death?"
The man nodded slightly. "Let's walk."
He walked down the steps and crossed the yard. Sam followed without hesitation. The wild storm continued around them but Sam and Death were almost completely unaffected. When Death spoke, Sam found he could hear him clearly.
"I am glad you found the courage to come out. I would not have been happy if I'd been forced to come to you. It would have scared the children."
"You care about scaring children?" Sam asked.
"Not particularly. But it would have put your brother on the defensive and this conversation would have been hindered by him. You know why I am here, don't you, Sam."
"You're going to give me your ring," Sam said confidently.
"Am I?" Death asked, raising an eyebrow. "Shall I give you my coat and cane, too?"
Sam frowned. "You told my dad…"
"That I would help you, yes, but I will not just give you my ring. It's not a corsage or piece of costume jewelry to be given to a prom date. It is a thing more powerful than your human mind can comprehend. I will only give it to you when I am confident you can handle it."
"Okay," Sam said slowly. "How am I supposed to prove to you I can handle it?"
"In part, you already have. By walking into a storm to seek me, you have proven you have the chutzpah to do what must be done. Do you have the will though?"
"I have more than will," Sam said. "I am prepared to do anything for this."
"But will you give anything?" Death asked.
Sam's heart clenched and he glanced back at the house. No. He would not give anything.
Death looked amused. "No, not Dean."
Sam exhaled with relief.
"So much strength," Death said in a musing tone, "but such a powerful weakness. If Lucifer wasn't preoccupied with his temper tantrum, if he put the slightest thought into you, he would know how to break you easily. It is not your own suffering that scares you, is it? It is Dean's. You can take anything but that."
"He's suffered enough," Sam said.
"You love him very much."
Sam nodded stiffly.
"Good. That love will strengthen you," Death said. "It should make it possible for you to follow through."
"I will have no problem following through on this," Sam said confidently. "Lucifer has to be stopped."
"He does," Death agreed. He looked into Sam's eyes. "You know, I thought it would be a little more complicated, but I can see in your eyes you have already made up your mind. You are a strange human, Sam Winchester. Most seek to avoid pain. You're going to dive right into it, aren't you?"
"I am," Sam said.
Death gave him an appraising look. "Strange," he muttered, and then he tucked his cane under his arm and slid his ring from his finger. He weighed it in his hand for a moment. "You won't give your brother up for this fight."
"No," Sam said firmly.
"And yet to expect him to give you up." It was not a question.
"No one man's life is worth more than the world," Sam said.
"No one man but Dean's, you mean?"
"Yes. That's what I mean." Sam said firmly.
"Tell me, Sam, how do you think you will persuade Dean to let you go?"
Sam closed his eyes for a moment and said, "Dean has always given me what I needed. And now I need this to be over."
Death nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, that may work." He drew a breath. "Very well. You can have it."
He tipped his hand and dropped the ring into Sam's waiting palm. It was heavier than it looked, as if the power it held weighed it down. Sam curled his fingers around it, feeling the cool metal against his heated skin.
"Thank you," Sam said.
Death reached into the inner pocket of his coat and pulled out a small envelope. He held it out to Sam who took it, feeling the parchment-like paper. "Your instructions," Death said somberly. "Do not fail, Sam Winchester. This storm will seem like a raincloud in comparison to what Lucifer has planned for me to do."
"About that," Sam said. "Is there nothing you can do to stop it?"
"Lucifer has me bound," Death said.
"I know. I just figured, since you're Death and all, that you might have a trick or two up your sleeve."
"You might be right," Death said thoughtfully. "Work fast, Sam Winchester. I cannot evade Lucifer's instruction forever."
"I will," Sam vowed to the empty air.
Death was gone, as was the storm. The debris that had been flying settled on the ground and the clouds overheard cleared to blue sky again. He looked back at the house and saw that, despite a few broken windows and missing roof tiles, it was intact. Dean would be pleased, and it seemed right to Sam that Dean have a little happiness before Sam made him face what had to happen next.
Before they had to say goodbye.
So… That happened. I will be hiding in my pillow fort until I post the next chapter.
Actually, before I go, there's something I need to say. There is one chapter left and an epilogue now, but there will be another story. I am currently working on the 5th and final story in the Brotherhood series. It is called Back in the Saddle, and I am hoping to start posting as soon as Brother's Keeper is finished.
NOW I am going to the pillow fort.
Until next time…
Clowns or Midgets xxx