Title: Armageddon

Rating: T

Warnings: Major spoilers for "Utopia", "The Sound of Drums" and "Last of the Time Lords"; violence; mild language; allusions to rape (but I promise nothing explicit or graphic)

A/N: So this is still up faster than usual, but not as quickly as I wanted. In my defense: the time I usually set aside to write for this was taken up with a root canal and pain and drugs that made me sleepy. I'm going to attempt to write a chapter every other day – I've got a better plan for what I want to happen. If I could update stories every day when I was in high school I can manage every other day when I have little else to do. Maybe every two or three days if not every other day. We'll see how well that plans goes.

For now, thanks so much for the new favorites and alerts and reviews! I appreciate it you guys!

Don't forget to review!

Armageddon:

Part III: The Year of Hell

Chapter Twenty-Three

It took Gabriel a few weeks to decide exactly what he was going to do. He knew that at some point he would have to visit the Doctor, but he was reluctant to risk exposure by visiting the Valiant so soon. He thought about visiting Martha Jones; her name was coming up quite a lot lately and she was definitely an important player in this game. He knew that she was playing an important part in helping the Doctor fix the timeline.

He also thought about trying to kill the Master himself, but there were issues with that. One: it would likely not fix whatever was wrong with the timeline, which was really the biggest concern for him. Time was twisted and wrong and needed to be set right. Two: wiping out the Master would definitely draw more attention than he wanted and that would almost certainly alert the others of him. Three: the Master was a Time Lord. He wasn't from Earth or even the same Galaxy.

Gabriel didn't really know much about the Time Lords, but he knew enough. They were ancient, their civilization existing before he did and before the Earth. Gallifrey was destroyed and even before it had been wiped out, angels hadn't had any influence over it. Their domain was the Earth and its inhabitants. The old gods had more power over the outer-reaches of the universe than they did, even if they weren't as powerful.

He considered that he might be able to call in a favor from some of the gods he knew, but he doubted that. Kali hadn't exactly ended things on a happy note and most of them found him annoying and self-centered. (As if they could talk.) Not to mention it'd be difficult to ask for their help in the matter and explain why he needed it.

He put that plan on the back burner for the moment, fairly certain that their involvement would not be in the best interest of the planet, but rather their own personal gain.

He spent quite a bit of time searching for any of his family's influence and procrastinated more than he should have. His conscience was telling him that he had to stand up and help, but he had spent the millennia since his so-called death avoiding doing just that. His time had been better spent doling out his own personal brand of justice upon humanity (mostly for his own entertainment).

He managed to speak to Castiel eventually, but it had been difficult as the other angel hadn't left Heaven in a while. He only learned that his brothers were still enforcing their no interference policy and no other angels, as far as Castiel knew, had taken a vessel. Eventually, he couldn't put it off any longer and knew he had to actually do something.

It would probably be best to work directly with the humans on this one. And he knew two humans who had just the kind of track record he needed. The angels on their shoulders meant he'd have to be discreet, but he wasn't easily recognized by his brothers any more. A few easy lies and a careful monitoring of his power usage and he'd be able to pull it off. Decided, Gabriel closed his eyes and with the faint sound of fluttering wings, vanished.

~/.\~

"There, that should do it," Dean said, tossing the last shotgun into the trunk of one of the cars that they'd acquired over the last several months. It was a beat up old El Camino and Dean hated it, it but it ran and that was what mattered the most. Sam caught him muttering about missing his Baby and grinned and shook his head at him.

"So we're ready to ship out in the morning?"

"Looks like it," Henricksen said, examining the stash of guns they had. They'd gotten three cars ready and were going to be heading out to Oklahoma the next morning to meet up with the other groups of what Dean had begun to call "The Rebels" – every time he did Sam reminded him that they weren't in Star Wars and they weren't fighting the Empire.

"Alright, everybody get some sleep," Rufus said, "We're heading out first light tomorrow. We've got to move fast if we want to make sure we can dodge the Toclafane and make still be able to make good time on this."

Adam, who was relegated to staying behind with Ash, frowned and turned to head back in without a word. Sam watched him go with a sympathetic look on his face. He knew what was going on in the kid's head. Even when he'd hated growing up the way he had, he'd hated being treated like a child and left behind even more. He still remembered the sleepless nights he'd spent sitting up while his dad and Dean were off on some hunt somewhere.

They followed Adam into the communal dining room turned planning area. Sam nearly ran right into Adam, who had stopped dead in the doorway to stare at the table. Sam frowned and peered over his shoulder, seeing what had caused Adam to freeze.

A man was sitting there, leaning the wood chair back precariously, his legs crossed and his feet propped up on the table surface; he was holding a bag of Skittles in his hand and he grinned wide when he noticed that he now had an audience. He swung his legs down and popped another handful of candy into his mouth before speaking,

"There you are!" he said, "I was wondering when you people would come back inside."

Everyone but Adam was pointing a gun at the stranger, but he didn't seem all that bothered by their hostility. His wide grin was still in place as he craned his neck to see around the teenager to the hunters beyond.

"Ah, Sam and Dean Winchester! Just the brothers I wanted to speak to!"

Sam frowned and pushed Adam behind him, pausing for a second to let Dean come around to stand next to him. Sam lowered his gun slightly, but Dean kept his trained on the man with narrowed eyes.

"Who are you?"

The stranger smirked again and leaned forward, "My name isn't as important as why I'm here, Boys,"

"Okay," Sam frowned, "then why are you here?"

"To help!"

"Oh, right, of course," Dean muttered, "Some random stranger busts into our incredibly secure safe house, past all of us and he isn't here to kill us, no, he's here to help. That's how our luck usually goes, isn't it, Sammy?"

Sam nodded, staring the man down with steely eyes, "How'd you get in here?"

Instead of answering, the stranger vanished and reappeared seconds later right in front of them. He was still grinning brightly at them and Dean's finger tightened over the trigger of his gun. The man noticed and rolled his eyes.

"Oh spare me," he said, "Those little guns aren't going to do you any good against a thing like me,"

"And what is a thing like you?" Rufus demanded, the barrel of his shotgun suddenly sticking right between his eyes and sitting dangerously close to Sam's head. Sam slid a few inches away and eyed the old man warily.

The stranger looked conflicted before snapping his fingers again. The shotgun was gone, replaced with a long rubber snake. Sam and Dean noticed an immediate lack of weight with the weapons in their hands and they frowned, looking down to realize that the guns had been turned to plastic.

"What the hell did you do to our guns?" Henricksen's voice came from behind them and they turned to see he too was holding a plastic toy; Gordon and Martin were both holding water pistols and Garth's gun was a hunk of wood vaguely carved in the shape of a revolver.

"Nothing much," the stranger shrugged, "I just put them out of commission for a moment. They can't hurt me, but it'd be really annoying to be shot at while I'm trying to talk to you."

Dean growled and tossed the toy gun to the side, "Okay, you want to talk, then talk. Starting with what the hell you are and what you're doing here."

Huffing in annoyance, the man plopped down on the table, studying the suspicious men gathered around him carefully.

"I'm a god," he said, "and I'm here to help."

"A god?" Henricksen almost choked on his own laughter, but the stiff, angry looks of the hunters around him told him that a god was not something to be laughed at and he quickly gave the stranger another once over. He certainly didn't look like any god. He was dressed like a man, albeit, better than any men he'd seen lately. He was short and had an arrogant sort of smirk on his face that reminded Henricksen of some of the men he'd arrested in the past. Come to think of it, it almost reminded him of Dean a bit.

"What god?" Sam narrowed his eyes, looking him up and down.

He spread his hands plaintively, "I got lots of names, Boys, that's really not important,"

"What god?" Dean growled, glaring at him with narrowed eyes.

He sighed, "You can call me Loki," he said finally.

"Loki," Martin's voice came from near the back of the group, "The Trickster god?"

"Well, when you put it like that," Loki frowned at them.

"You seriously expect us to trust a god? Not just any god but Loki?" Garth asked, raising a brow at him, "The god known for being a liar?"

"What you think just because I have a bit of reputation I can't be trusted?"

"I think because you're a supernatural piece of shit you can't be trusted," Dean snapped, glaring at him, "We don't work with gods or anything not human."

"Oh come on, Dean," Loki said, "we're on the same side here. You think I want the Master in charge of this planet? He's really killing the mood. It's not nearly as fun to be me when I don't have anyone to toy with. Life in a horrible, post-apocalyptic wasteland is boring."

"Boring? You think mass genocide and planet wide enslavement is boring?" Sam gaped at him and Loki shrugged.

"World's gonna end one day," he said, "You might as well get a handle on that concept. But that doesn't mean it has to end right now. So what I'm proposing is that we work together. I help you take down the Master and you guys get your planet back and then you go back to hating me and everything like me all you want."

"Not happening," Gordon said, "We aren't working with some god."

He sighed and shook his head, "You guys aren't getting it, are you?" he asked, "I'm here to help. Whether you like it or not, that's probably not something you get a lot of lately. You're low on food, weapons and people. Do you honestly think you stand a chance against the Master without some kind of help? I've got pretty good amount of flexibility in the magic department. I can give you guys an arsenal. I can take down more Toclafane than you sad little Tasers can."

"If you have so much power then why not take the Master out yourself?" Dean demanded, frowning at him.

Loki pressed his lip together and hesitated for a moment, "I can't,"

"Can't?" Sam frowned and raised a brow, "What do you mean you can't?"

"What do think I mean, Jackass? I can't. The Master is… not part of my domain."

"Your domain?"

"It's complicated," he said, "Point is, the Master isn't from Earth. I don't have the benefit of being able to use all of my power on him. I can do some things… Killing him is not one of those things."

"Then I guess you're just going to have to sit this out, aren't you?" Dean said, "We're going to take the Master down without your help, alright?"

Loki pursed his lips, "You can't be that stupid,"

"Excuse me?" Dean frowned.

"You guys are screwed," he said, "You're going to be massacred if you take on the Master without help. Your guns aren't going to work much better on him than they would on me."

"I think you're wearing out your welcome here, Buddy," Dean said, "Either leave or –"

"Or what?" Loki asked, "What exactly are you going to do to me, Dean?"

Dean hesitated and growled, eyes burning with anger. Loki sighed and shrugged,

"Fine, fine," he stood again, "I can tell when I'm not wanted. See you around, Boys,"

~/.\~

The conference room on the Valiant was freezing. Spencer shivered and leaned back against the wall, his knees tucked up to his chest, his arms wrapped around them. The Doctor was sitting next to him, his arm loosely draped over his shoulders, but there wasn't much heat radiating from his body. Spencer was half sure that he could see his own breath in the air when he breathed and he pulled himself tighter, trying in vain to get warm.

They were alone at the moment and had been for several hours since the guards had come and removed them from the cells. The Joneses were going about their usual duties, cleaning and cooking with the other servants and Jack was left chained up below. Spencer wasn't sure how long it had been since he'd been out of the cells, but it was long enough that the conference didn't feel familiar any longer. Nothing had changed, but it felt different somehow.

The door opened with a loud echo and Lestrade slipped inside, looking around for a second before striding quickly toward the prisoners.

"Freezing in here," he muttered, shivering and looking around, his breath panting. Spencer was pretty sure that he did see Lestrade's breath that time.

"Another of the Master's lovely torments," the Doctor said, sounding just a little bit bitter. Spencer sighed and looked up at Lestrade,

"Have you had any luck?" he asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. It had been a few weeks of nothing but bad news for their most recent escape plans, but Lestrade and Sally kept them updated as frequently as possible.

"I think so," he said, reaching into his pocket and holding up a key ring, "This is the key to the cells in the lower section. We're working on getting the keys to Jack's chains. It might be a couple more days, but Sally's talking to the girl who usually cleans the bedrooms; he keeps the keys beside his bed. If she can manage to swipe them we can get you all out. I can lead you straight to the rescue ships."

The Doctor smiled, "That's perfect!" he said, his eyes managing to shine just a little bit. He squeezed Spencer's shoulder and hugged him closer, "Brilliant! That's brilliant, Detective Inspector."

Lestrade smiled at the title and inclined his head, "I'll let you know as soon as we have the other set of keys," he told him, straightening up and looking around again, his eyes scanning the place.

"Good luck, Doctor," he whispered before disappearing from the room, the door closing heavily behind him.

~/.\~

"Are you just going to stand there all day?" John frowned at Sherlock, watching the other man staring out toward the door of their recently acquired hideaway. They'd been there for a few weeks – ever since the video conference for the Toclafane. Sarah Jane was trying to get things set up for another video conference, but it looked like the Americans were still going to go through with their assassination attempt and they hadn't been able to get in contact with Martha in a few days.

"Hmm?" Sherlock blinked and looked over at where John was sitting beside their dinner table-and-computer desk. The laptop was pushed against the wall, as out of the way as they could it with the cords and cables tangling around it and dangling off the edges.

John sighed, "I asked if you were just going to stand there all day?"

"Have I been?" Sherlock turned and strode toward the computer purposefully, "I hadn't noticed."

"Hadn't noticed?!" John blinked at him, "You've been standing there for hours, Sherlock!"

Sherlock didn't say anything in response, instead leaning down over the computer and glancing at the monitor.

"What are you waiting for?"

"I've been attempting to get in contact with a few old colleagues," he said, "So far I haven't been able to reach them."

"Colleagues?" John frowned, "You know, I never asked before but what did you do? I mean, what was your job before this whole mess started?"

Sherlock didn't respond for a long minute, his focus entirely on the screen in front of him. His long fingers tapped at the keyboard and his brow furrowed a bit. John tilted his head to see what he was looking at, but he couldn't see the entire screen from where he was sitting and he didn't want to get in Sherlock's way. When Sherlock straightened up and returned to his corner to stare at nothing, John frowned.

"Sherlock?"

"Hmm?" Sherlock blinked and turned slightly toward John, but he didn't quite look at him. John had gotten used to that a while ago though and repeated his earlier question.

"I asked about your job," he said, "You said you were trying to get in contact with old colleagues. What exactly did you do?"

"I was a consulting detective,"

"A… consulting detective?" John frowned, "What you mean like a private investigator?"

"No," Sherlock said, "If I meant private investigator, I would have said that. I mean consulting detective."

"Ah," John nodded slowly, "And that would be…?"

Sherlock sighed heavily, "I consulted with the police," he said, "I worked cases for them whenever they called me."

"An independent detective sort of thing then?"

"Yes, precisely," Sherlock nodded, "Only one in the world."

"So your old colleagues are police then?"

"Yes, a Detective Inspector with Scotland Yard, Lestrade," Sherlock said, "He was in a work camp in London a few months ago, but I've been unable to contact him lately. I'm beginning to believe that he may be dead."

John tilted his head a bit, "Wait, are you telling me your worried about your friend?"

"He isn't my friend, he's my colleague," Sherlock said, "I am not worried about him, I'm merely concerned. If he is dead we've lost an ally on the inside."

John smiled a bit, "I'm sure your friends alright," he said, "People in the work camps who get caught as traitors are always made examples of. We'd have heard about it by now if something had happened to him."

Sherlock's eyes flashed toward John for a moment, but he said nothing, inclining his head slightly and returning to his stone-still pose in the corner. John sighed and turned his attention back to his meal, glancing up at Sherlock every few minutes. He never moved. If it weren't for the gentle sound of him breathing John might have assumed he was dead. Sherlock could say he wasn't worried all he wanted, John had seen that tight, anxious look before.

~/.\~

"Is this the place?" Gibbs frowned as he squinted out of the dirty wind shield. It had taken them a long time to find two cars that were in running condition that had enough room for them and all the weapons that they had managed to gather.

"Looks like it, Boss," Tony said, stepping out of the car. McGee climbed out of the backseat followed by Prentiss. The others in the car ahead of them had already gotten out: Hotchner, Morgan, Rossi and Fornell. They were stretching their arms and legs after being stuck in the car for so long. It was a long drive from Virginia to Oklahoma. They'd taken almost four days to get there, being extra cautious on the roads.

McGee eyed the church with a skeptical frown, "Doesn't look like anyone else is here yet," he said, "Do you think we're the first ones here?"

"The hunters said they were heading out days ago," Hotch said, "They should all be here by now at least. I'm not sure of the agents in California could have gotten here yet or not…"

As if to answer their questions, the door to the old church they were parked in front of opened and Dean Winchester stepped out followed by Henricksen and Gordon.

"Hey, you finally made it," Dean said, "Everyone is inside. They arrived last night. Come on, we've got a lot of stuff to do before we get everything finished."

"Where are the cars?" Prentiss asked, glancing around the empty lot. There was a car or truck in sight, but as they stepped inside they saw several people gathered there that they recognized from the video conference. They didn't know all of them by sight, but they knew them well enough from their conversations over the last several months.

"Out of the way," Dean said, "We'll get your stuff unloaded and move the cars out of the way in a little while. It's kind of cramped in here but we're going to be bunking here for the time being until we get ready to get on to the second part of the plan…"

Sam waved them over when he saw them and greeted them with a smile. He was standing next to Rigsby and Van Pelt, talking to them about their weapons selection – Rigsby was lamenting their lack of firearms at the safe house and Sam was showing him what they'd managed to gather.

"Is this everyone?"

"Everyone who said they were definitely coming," Dean nodded, "What's up over here?"

"Weapons inventory," Sam said, "We've got enough firearms… but we don't have very many electrical weapons. Ash's gun isn't going to be good for many uses. He said we only had maybe four shots and it's done."

McGee picked up the heavy looking gun Sam was motioning to and frowned, "What's this thing made out of? Spare computer parts?"

"Among other things," Sam nodded, "Ash only had time to make one since we decided to move early and this is the best we've got."

"Abby made a couple of Tasers," McGee said, "There aren't enough for everyone, but they'll be helpful enough."

Fornell came to stand beside Henricksen, watching them discuss their weapons choices. He squinted his eyes at Sam and Dean, remembering listening to Henricksen talk about the two brothers and the things that they had done. He frowned.

"You do trust these guys, right, Victor?" he asked.

Henricksen looked over at him, watching his face before nodding, "It sounds crazy, Tobias," he said, "but these two are the real deal. I've seen some pretty impossible things in the last few months. It definitely explains a lot."

Fornell looked skeptical still, but nodded slowly, "If you trust them then I'll keep an open mind," he said, "but you have to admit, even with all this alien crap, the whole monsters and demons thing still seems farfetched."

Tony turned his attention away from McGee and Sam's conversation about the electrical weapons once they started talking about some sort of science fiction thing he had no interest in and looked around the church. It was a bit cramped like Dean had said, but not too bad. His eyes glided over the people he'd only seen in vague, fuzzy computer screens. He spotted Jane gesturing widely with a smile on his face.

"Who's that guy?"

"Uh… Jane or something," Dean answered him, "He's been doing magic tricks since we got here. Said it was supposed to boost morale. I don't know why they brought the guy along with 'em, he keeps looking at the guns like they're snakes."

"We could have asked for guns in worse condition if we beat against rocks," Lassiter walked over to them, eyeing the guns with a sad look on his face. His own service revolver hung at his side and he refused to remove it. It had been with him since before the Decimation and he wasn't about to part with it now.

"It's what we've got," Gordon said, "We can't exactly be picky right now. I'd much rather have a rifle than a bunch of handguns and sawed off shotguns, but we got what we were able to carry."

"It's ammo we should really be worried about," Rossi said, "The guns aren't going to be useful if there are no bullets."

"Bullets we've got covered," Dean said, "Mostly anyway. We're low on shotgun shells, but Sammy and me have been making our own bullets since we were, what, seven?"

Sam smiled, "Yeah, I mean, back then it was silver bullets for shape shifters, but melting down scrap metals works the same,"

"You guys made your own bullets?" Lisbon frowned, raising a brow skeptically at him. She'd wandered over after having gotten annoyed at Jane for another of his tricks and was trying to ignore the blond man as he stood behind her with Shawn and Henry at her side. They'd left Gus, Charlie, Dr. Holloway and Juliet back at the safe house, much to Juliet's annoyance.

"How else do you expect to get silver bullets?" Rufus asked. He was still holding his own shotgun, as reluctant to part with it as Lassiter was his gun. "You can't shoot a werewolf with just anything."

"You're really serious about that whole werewolf thing?" Henry asked, raising a brow.

"Oh yeah," Martin nodded, "I used to take down three or four werewolves a year… Of course, that was back in the old days. They aren't around as much anymore. You still get 'em cropping up in some places, but they're almost as wiped out as vampires."

"Ooh, vampires!" Shawn grinned, "Have you ever met, like, Dracula?"

Gordon scowled, "Fangs aren't something to get all fuzzy about, Kid," he said, "They're dangerous monsters. Evil through and through."

"Not all vampires," Sam said quietly. Gordon shot him a look, but wisely didn't argue when Rufus cleared his throat loudly. He might be older than all of them, but the old man had a way about him that made the others instantly fearful of what he'd do if they got on his bad side.

"I don't know," Lassiter frowned, "I mean, aliens we've all seen… vampires? Werewolves? I've never seen it."

"Yeah, you're welcome," Dean said, folding his arms, "Who do you think takes care of that stuff for you?"

"I think it's possible," Van Pelt said, "I mean… there are a lot of things that used to be myths and magic that turned out to be perfectly reasonable later on."

"What exactly could be reasonable about movie monsters and vampire slayers?" Jane asked, still smiling vaguely, though Dean didn't seem to take the comment as lightly as he meant it.

"Come on, Jane," Rigsby came to Van Pelt's side, "Just because you've never seen it doesn't mean it's not real…" He glanced toward Van Pelt with a smile, then back at Sam and Dean, "It's a little farfetched, but that doesn't really mean it's impossible."

"How about we actually talk about something useful," Gibbs said, "Like this plan to kill the Master and exactly how we're going to do it,"

"Thank you!" Dean nodded, "That is an excellent idea. We're waiting on the layout details of the Valiant before we make any concrete plans, but we've been going over our strategy for a few hours before you guys showed up. I can show you the -"

He froze as he turned to head toward the altar, his eyes zeroing in on the man standing there, looking over a dusty old Bible with a Blow Pop in his mouth. He grinned when he realized he'd been spotted.

"You know, you guys should read this thing some time," he said, patting the Bible, "It's sort of funny how many mistakes are in it."

"Loki," Sam sighed and tensed. A few of the agents reached for their guns, but the hunters all remained where they were, already aware that they couldn't kill him that way.

"Loki?" Prentiss frowned, "Like… the Norse god Loki?"

"Or like villain from the Avengers comics?" Tony added, getting annoyed looks from everyone except Shawn who grinned at the comment.

"He doesn't look like any god," Jane said, eyeing him up and down.

Loki rolled his eyes, "You know, you people are very judgmental," he said, "I can see why you're losing your planet."

"Well we're getting ready to take it back, so why don't you take a hike, huh?"

"Oh come on," Loki sighed, "You at least have to let me make my case to everyone. You aren't running some kind of dictatorship here, are you?"

"Make a case for what?" Gibbs asked, eyeing the man up and down with skeptical eyes. He was young and had an immature glint in his eyes that Gibbs didn't fully trust.

"I want to help you guys," he said, "We're on the same team here, right? I want to things to go back to how they were; you want things to go back to how they were… At least give me a chance to talk it out with you guys, huh?"

Dean started to say no, but he was cut off by Van Pelt, "I want to hear what he has to say,"

"Me too," Morgan said, "Like how the hell he got in here…"

Dean sighed, "Fine," he said, "Say your piece."

Loki grinned and motioned for them to sit in the rickety old pews. They all did so reluctantly, listening to the wood creak under them as they settled down. Loki immediately went back to the altar and grinned wide at them, his eyes sparkling as he began,

"Thank you. Now… let's begin. I… Have a dream…"

Sam groaned and rolled his eyes, his head falling back against the back of the pew. This was going to be painful.

~/.\~

A/N: Gabriel is such a pain in the ass to write. Ugh. But still, things should be really picking up next chapter. I hope you guys enjoyed!

Don't forget to review!