Unfound
Chapter Fifty
Lucifer was cold. And hungry. It was quite the indignity. He was an archangel. He didn't have the base needs of a filthy human.
He was also beginning to smell.
This was a completely unacceptable position for him to be in and he blamed his brother Gabriel. And those fucking Winchesters. All three of them.
He shivered and pulled his coat in on him a little bit more.
His powers had already been at an all-time low because of the atmosphere in Limbo. Then Gabriel had gone and stolen some of his grace. His grace. He couldn't believe that his youngest brother had that kind of…nerve. The audacity.
It seemed that the door back into this world had separated him from his newest followers. He didn't know where they landed and he didn't have a way to reach out to them. It's not as if they had cell phones, and even if they did, they would know how to use them. They weren't angels, so he couldn't reach out to the via angel radio.
One step at a time, he thought to himself. First, he needed to get himself out of this pathetic state, and left him shivering in an alleyway.
"You alright there, buddy?" a voice came from above.
Lucifer looked up. "Fine," he snarled.
The man looked like he almost walked away. "Look – there's a soup kitchen down the way, I can show you if you'd like. You look like you could use some food, friend."
"You look like you could use some food," Lucifer sneered back at him under his breath.
"What was that?"
"Nothing," he said, realizing that this human was doing him a service. Of course, not the service that he thought was doing, but rather, giving him ideas.
He did need food. Just not that of the human variety (he'd get his fill of massacring them later). The human was still staring at him.
"I'm fine," Lucifer said. "I'll find food elsewhere."
The vagrant shrugged his shoulders. "Suit yourself. If you find yourself in need, there's a shelter on 7th and Pike, and the soup kitchen is just a block up from there. We all need help from time to time, my friend."
Lucifer did his best to keep the look of disgust off of his face as the man walked away.
He pulled the coat he was wearing around him a little tighter, not liking the feeling of vulnerability to the elements. Walking down the street, he put what little was left on his grace on high alert. It didn't take much time.
There was an angel in this city.
And not too far away.
Grinning, Lucifer whistled a bit as he walked. Gabriel may have thought he had gotten the better of him, but he had just given him the keys to success. Time for a snack.
III
Jack didn't know where they were. Somewhere in Europe – which he supposed made sense because that was where Harry was from. But it wasn't anywhere he had been before. In fact, looking around, it was eerily still. There wasn't even a faint ruffling of trees – even though there were many of them here.
It took him a second to even find Harry. Even though he could see well in the dark, Harry had made himself so small in comparison to the vastness of this space that he was hard to spot.
He was curled up in the far northwest corner of the clearing (that looked like it had been created by magical means), tucked up with his back to a tree, holding a bottle of sorts in his hand.
Jack didn't see or sense Gabriel anywhere.
With caution, he started walking towards Harry.
As he got closer, he could see that this was the worst he had ever looked. And Jack had seen him after he had been nearly tortured to death by Asmodeus.
The man was staring forward blankly, as if he could not actually perceive what was in front of him. His skin was pale and had a sheen of sweat over it. And Jack could tell that he had been crying. A lot.
"Harry," he said loud enough to be heard, but quietly enough not startle him.
Harry's eyes snapped up. "Jack." He frowned. "You shouldn't be here."
"I – " Jack was at a loss for words. "I was worried about you."
Harry let out a humorless chuckle. "I'm breathing. That's all that should matter to you." There was a bitterness in his voice that almost made it unrecognizable to Jack. And it also stung.
"You – you're in pain," Jack said. "I thought maybe…"
"You thought what?" Harry asked, harshly. "That you could help?" He took a swig out of the bottle. Jack sniffed the air.
"Are you drunk?"
"So what if I am?"
"I didn't think – I thought that you couldn't…"
"With the right stuff. Now, go away."
Jack straightened up. "No. You need help."
Harry didn't respond to that. He just kept drinking.
Jack had no idea what he should do. He could still feel the pain that Harry was in and it made him want to cry. But he didn't think that would help anything. Instead, he elected to sit down across from Harry, cross-legged on the ground.
Harry ignored him.
Jack just sat there. He didn't mind the silence. Sometimes, on his own, he would just sit and stare into space and think.
The hardest part was trying to separate his feelings from Harry's because of how strongly Harry was emoting right now.
"I don't think you should be alone," he said, once he had finished sorting through both Harry's emotions and his own. Which was exhausting.
"I don't care what you think," Harry replied, not in the mood to humor the child at the moment.
"You're being mean," Jack said. "You don't have to talk to me like that. I'm just trying to help!"
"Well, you can't help," Harry said. "Go away."
"No," Jack said. "No, I won't do that. You wouldn't leave me if I was like this."
"Kid - you've never been like this. You can't possibly understand what I'm feeling right now."
"No? Sirius was your godfather. And you loved him. And now he's gone. I loved my mother. And she's gone too."
"He's gone because of me!" Harry snapped.
"So what?"
"So what? I killed my bloody godfather, and now I just want to sit here and be miserable about it, but you won't leave me alone for one fucking second."
"You know - when my mom..."
"Oh come on, Jack, that's not the same, and you know it."
"Isn't it?" Jack challenged. "I killed my mother by being born! You think I don't understand but I do. I understand so much more than you would ever give me credit for."
"It's not the same Jack, you're a baby... you were a baby. I'm an adult. I've killed him. Twice. Now, please, let me wallow in peace."
"No," Jack said.
"What are you going to do about it?"
Jack narrowed his eyes. Harry thought that he couldn't do anything about it. Well, alcohol made the man weak. And slow.
Before Harry could stop him, or even think to try and defend himself, Jack grabbed his arm and flew them both back to the Bunker.
III
A woman skated down the sidewalk – wobbly as she went. There was a man who was walking out of a bakery carrying a wedding cake that blocked his vision. The woman crashed straight into him, making the cake go flying – but that freed up his hands to be able to catch her before she hit the ground.
"I think I just fell for you," she said to him.
"I'd catch you anytime you fell," he responded.
Lucifer wasn't interested in the humans. He was interested in the being behind this whole, and he felt disgusting just thinking it, meet-cute. "Nice job," he complimented the Cupid. "Another happy beginning. Right?"
He grabbed the Cupid and slammed him against a fence, out of view from any passing humans. Before the Cupid could do anything to defend himself, Lucifer slashed his throat and consumed his grace.
All the hunger and cold left his body and his eyes glowed with power. "Oh…that's very good." He could already feel that it wasn't enough. "But I need seconds, where can I find more angels?"
"I…I…" The Cupid could barely speak.
Lucifer punched him in the face and grabs his face.
"Where can I find more angels?" He repeats.
"I don't know!" The Cupid exclaimed. "There…there aren't many of us left."
"Don't lie to me," he put as much menacing into his tone as possible. There had been a time when a weakling Cupid like this wouldn't dare have denied him for this long.
"I'm not. Please leave," he begged.
"Ok…ok, ok. Poor Cupid. Fine. You know, without your grace, you're only human, so you should be careful. Accidents can happen." He shoved his fist through the Cupid's chest. "Like that. Sorry."
Even though the grace was not enough to keep him going forever, it was enough for him to do what he needed to do.
III
"Hermione, Neville's here," Ron said gently to his wife who was currently pouring over papers on her desk.
"Ah," she said, looking up. "Thanks, Ron. They must have just closed down the gate for the evening."
"Send him up," Ron said to the Auror guarding just outside the door.
Hermione had completely commandeered the Headmistress's office because that was where security was the tightest. Anyone trying to get up the spiral staircase would not only have to get through the people guarding the door, but they would also have to know the password, which was a very closely guarded secret.
"Why don't you go check on the children, dear," Hermione said. "After I've spoken to him, I think I'm going to try and get some sleep. So, I'll be there shortly."
Ron nodded and went over to the fireplace to floo to the living quarters where their family was staying. He was relieved that Hermione planned on taking a break soon.
The door opened. Neville stepped inside and Hermione smiled up at him, exhausted, but happy to see her friend.
The smile quickly faded when she noticed that he wasn't alone.
"Neville?" She asked.
"Hermione," he greeted. "This is Rebecca. She was the last one through the gate and she has…"
As soon as Hermione saw who it was, she had her wand pointed at the small redhead.
"Get away from her, Neville!" She called out.
Neville looked confused.
Rowena smirked and quickly splayed her fingers out and cast a spell that controlled Neville's body. In this case, holding him in front of her.
"Now, dearie, that's uncalled for. I've only come to help."
"You're Rowena MacLeod," Hermione said, not lowering her wand or taking her eyes off the witch. "Harry told me about you."
She smiled, unpleasantly. "Oh aye, not a big fan of me, himself. But you know how men are – they really can't stand a powerful woman. His loss. Now, why don't you lower your wand there and we can have a nice, civilized talk."
"Let him go," Hermione said, nodding her head at Neville, who looked like he was trying to work his way out of the magic.
"Not until you guarantee me some sort of safety."
"I haven't done anything to you, you're the one who broke into Hogwarts when you have a history of trying to burn it to the ground."
"You haven't done anything…yet," Rowena corrected.
"She has information about Gormlaith," Neville said, apparently giving up on trying to free himself for a moment, "unless she's lying again. Which she could be."
"I do," Rowena said. "I was present at her most recent massacre. And unless you want that to happen here, I suggest you hear me out."
Hermione's veins iced over.
Neville was finally able to break out of the spell and he turned to face the small woman, ready to tackle her to protect Hermione.
"Neville…wait," Hermione said. She didn't trust this witch, but she knew that Rowena had been around for hundreds of years and hadn't come after Hogwarts a second time. Plus, she had helped Sam and Dean from time to time. And Hermione was desperate.
He stopped immediately. His arms were in mid-air, about to physically attack, it would have been funny if it weren't such a serious situation.
Rowena patted him on the head and moved around him and gracefully sat down in a chair in front of the Headmistress's desk as if it were a throne that she owned.
"Do you want me to go get someone?" Neville asked, a little flabbergasted. He would have thought
"No," Hermione said. "I think we quite enough panic around here without adding the return of Rowena MacLeod." She sat down behind the desk. The witch across from her looked entirely too pleased. "Actually, Neville, it would be lovely if you went and got Charlie."
"Weasley or Bradbury?"
"Bradbury," Hermione confirmed.
"Oi! You're just lettin' Muggles in here these days?" Rowena sounded deeply offended.
Although she was surprised that Rowena knew Charlie, she shouldn't have been, and she didn't let it show on her face.
"Hermione are you sure that…"
The glare told Neville everything that he needed to know and he quickly left the room to go get Charlie.
As soon as he left, Rowena started talking. "You know, your reputation proceeds you as well. I've read all about you, Hermione Granger, a Mudblood Minister of Magic. I never thought I'd see the day."
Hermione had been called worse and wasn't going to let this witch fluster her by throwing around schoolyard insults.
"I'm not even the first, you know. You'll find that blood status matters less these days, as long as someone is talented magically, they can find a place here."
Rowena reared back just the slightest bit.
"Now, why don't you tell me what you came here to tell me."
Rowena gave her a small smirk. "Uh, uh, uh. I have news for you, but it comes at a price. Nothing in this life is free, sweetie pie."
"Name it," Hermione said.
"You are familiar with the Winchesters, no doubt?"
Hermione internally took a deep breath. "Of course. My best friend is, in fact, a Winchester. What about them."
"Well, you see they've got this book…"
III
"What do you mean Jack's missing?" Cas sounded pissed. "Why weren't you watching him?"
"We're a little busy, Cas," Dean snapped, not amused by his friend's tone.
"I guess this means that he's not with you then," Sam said. The two of them had left Mary to watch Ketch and they had Cas on speakerphone.
"Obviously not," Cas snapped. "I can't believe that I couldn't leave him with you for just one day, Dean."
"Hey – Sam's here too."
"It's not like we tried to lose him, Cas. He must have snuck out."
"And what did you do to make him do that?"
"Nothing!" Dean protested.
Castiel sighed deeply. "I'll try and find him. I'm done here, anyway."
Before either Sam or Dean could ask him any questions about Crowley, Cas hung up.
"Well, that went great," Dean said, running a hand through his hair. "I guess this answers our question on whether or not Lucifer made it back to Earth."
"You don't know that he went to Lucifer."
"Where the hell else would he go?"
"Dean – I don't know. All I know is that Jack is missing. Maybe he was kidnapped…"
"Through our wards?" Dean scoffed. "I thought you said this was the most secure place in the United States."
"It is," Sam insisted. "At least, as far as we know. But are they strong enough to keep Lucifer out? I don't know that it's possible to create wards that are powerful enough to do that."
"But wouldn't we have some sort of…" Dean didn't finish his sentence, because the lights in the Bunker flickered. "That," he said. "Wouldn't that have happened?"
Sam frowned, looked at Dean, and pulled out his gun.
Dean wasn't far behind.
They heard shouting in the kitchen. Which is not where they would expect an attack to start.
Moving quietly and efficiently, they approached the room.
It wasn't just shouting – it was swearing. Very familiar sounding, colorful, swearing.
"…I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU BLOODY DID OR WHY BUT IF YOU DON'T…"
"Harry?" Dean said when they got inside.
The yelling stopped.
"Jack!" Sam yelled out in relief. He hadn't wanted to believe Dean's theory that Jack had gone searching for his father, but even he had a little bit of doubt. "We've been looking for you. Where'd you go?"
"Out," Jack said, in the best impression of the teenager he looked like that he had done yet. "I'm going back to my room. You can deal with him."
Sam looked surprised as Jack brushed past him.
"Should I…" he started to ask if he should go after Jack when he was interrupted.
"Are you drunk?" Dean asked Harry, having been observing him this whole time. His middle brother looked…terrible. His eyes were bloodshot and his hair, normally messy in a charming way, was a bramble. And he was swaying slightly in a way that Dean hadn't seen him do while still having angelic powers.
Harry wobbled a bit, almost falling down, which was enough to confirm Dean's suspicions.
"How?" Sam asked, forgetting about Jack as he looked intently at Harry.
"Not that it's any of your bloody business, but Ambrosia," Harry answered belligerently. "I just want to be alone, but no one will let me, not Gabriel, not Jack, and now not you. He's somehow made it so I can't fly so if you'll move, I'll walk out of here."
"Who made it so you can't fly?" Dean asked at the same time that Sam asked, "Where is Gabriel?" Both sounded very alarmed.
Harry didn't answer either question, just pulled out a – Dean gave it a double take – a friggin' Grecian urn, and took a long drag from it. Before standing to try and leave the room. Sam stood directly in his path, towering over him.
His mind was in shambles – the alcohol was calming the worst of the raging waters of grief, but he didn't know how his brothers could stand to be in the same room as him, knowing what he had done to his own family.
"Sam, move," a strong, steady, voice said from the door.
Sam wasn't one to ever deny his mother anything, so he moved out of the way, although a little reluctantly. Mary had never seen Harry this way and he didn't think that, when he sobered up, Harry would appreciate it very much.
When she got a look at her second-born, Mary let her instincts take over. In two short steps, she had brushed past Sam and gathered Harry in her arms. He flinched but didn't resist.
From her position, holding him, she spoke softly to the other two. "Dean, Sam, go check up on Jack. I've got this."
Sam and Dean exchanged a look, debating with their eyes if they should leave a drunk and volatile Harry alone with their mother, who they had only just rescued. Especially since it was unclear as to why Gabriel was no longer there.
"Go," she ordered, leaving them no choice but to leave the room.
When they left, she let go of Harry. "Have a seat at the table, Henry," she commanded in the same no-nonsense voice she had just used on Sam and Dean.
Exhausted from whatever he had done to Gabriel, yelling at Jack, and the sheer weight of his grief, Harry did as he was told.
"I'll take that," Mary plucked the vase-looking vessel out of Harry's hands and gingerly sat it down on the other side of the kitchen. "It's been a long couple of hours," she said. "Actually, a long couple of months. And being back here means I need to eat and drink again. I'm going to boil some water for tea and you are going to stay there."
Harry just nodded miserably and put his head in his hands, not quite believing that he had allowed Jack to drag him back here. He was in no state to be around his family.
Mary went about filling the kettle and sticking it on the stove. Honestly, boiling water was about the only thing she could be trusted with in the kitchen, other than her knife skills, and layering a casserole dish with the greasiest possible foods to feed her family.
It was strange being back here. Being a mother again. Not that she ever truly stopped, but she had gotten to be just Mary for the last couple of months. Oddly enough, she was grateful for the time. It wasn't like when she had worked with the British Men of Letters – none of the guilt of sneaking around and off on her boys. But it had allowed her to become more grounded and truly adjust to the idea of having three adult sons.
She would always mourn missing out on the childhoods of her boys. But she was ready to move forward from her grief and appreciate what she had now.
And she still needed the eyes on the back of her head. Henry thought that she wouldn't notice when he summoned his drink from where she had placed it.
"Henry John," she reprimanded without even turning back to him, "put that down."
The water was ready now, so she could turn and face him.
Sheepishly, looking much like the child he certainly wasn't, Henry placed the drink at the edge of his reach on the table.
Plucking a tea bag from the box, she put it in the mug of boiling water, and carried it over to her son.
"Drink," she said as she pushed the cup in front of him and sat down across the table. "Unless you need milk or sugar."
Harry shook his head. The Dursleys never allowed him to sweeten his tea, so he preferred it black. Out of habit, he also removed the bag almost as soon as Mary set it down in front of him – often he had to reuse a tea bag that one of them had already made a cup with. He took a sip. It didn't numb him in the way he was craving, but there was still comfort in it.
"Talk," Mary said after a couple of minutes of silence passed between the two of them.
"I don't know what you expect me to say," he responded, no small amount of attitude leaking into his tone.
She leveled him with a look and he felt a little guilty.
"He's gone because of me. Again," he said, all of his control over his facial expression crumbling under the gaze of his mother.
"So, what if he is?"
That caught Harry's attention. "Pardon?" That hadn't been what he was expecting and it took the next words out of his mouth and felt like a punch to his gut.
"What if your actions led directly to his death?" She asked. "I'm not saying that they did, but think this through with me. What does it mean? What are you going to do about it?"
"There's nothing I can do," he said, helplessly, and he considered reaching for his drink again.
"No? What do you think he would say?"
"He can't say anything," Harry barked. "I killed him."
"You'd killed him before, what did he say when he came back?" Mary didn't know the exact answer to that question, but she had enough of an inkling of the man who had been her son's godfather to have a general idea.
Thinking about that first conversation he had with Sirius when Jack first brought him to the Bunker was now painful more than anything else. Harry didn't need to say anything though, Mary just read his face.
"That's what I thought," she said. "Henry – even if you were somehow responsible for his death, which you certainly weren't as a child, and you weren't this time either, he wouldn't want you to hold onto that guilt. I very much doubt that he'd blame you at all. This sort of loss – it's never going to leave you. But you can't let it paralyze you either."
"How do you know what he would want?" Harry asked, but the question came out without any bite, just pain, in his voice. Mary grasped one of his hands and squeezed gently.
"Because, while I didn't know him well, I know that he loved you like a son. And, as a parent, I would never want you, or Sam, or Dean, to hold onto this kind of guilt."
Harry didn't have anything to say to that.
"You don't understand…"
"Don't tell me what I don't understand," she said sharply. "How do you think I feel about how John acted after I died?"
Harry looked up at her from where he had been staring determinately at the table. "You've never said."
"I know. Because I don't want to speak badly of him in front of Sam and Dean. Or you, really, but he was their father and they already have enough hangups because of him. Because of his actions after my death. I'm telling you, one day, I'm going to have a chance to take him to task on all of it, and it won't be pretty."
Harry couldn't hold back a laugh. He could imagine it. Someday, in the very distant future, if he, Sam, and Dean had anything to say about it, Mary would reunite with John in Heaven, and Harry didn't think that he'd want to be in the same room. Maybe a fly on the wall.
"This just happened. You are devastated, of course you are, but this isn't the path that you want to go down. We – I – need you too much to lose you to the madness of grief."
"Is that what you think happened to Dad?"
"Yes. I loved John, I still do, and I always will, but I never wanted this life for our sons. Not for Sam and Dean and not for you. He should have known that. I won't spend more time speaking ill of him, that will be between the two of us someday, but you all deserved better. And for that matter, Teddy deserves better than that from you."
That stung. And woke him up a little.
"For that matter, so do Sam and Dean. And everyone else who loves you. I'm not saying that you shouldn't mourn him. But you can't let it incapacitate you. Especially in this family. We don't have the luxury of that kind of time." She stood up and crossed over to his side of the table and kissed him on the forehead. "I'm going to make you another cup of tea. Then you're going to go to sleep, and rest. In the morning, we move forward. Am I understood?"
Harry didn't say anything.
"Henry…"
He sighed. "Yes, mom," he said.
"That's what I like to hear."
III
Castiel pulled the car over as quickly as he could. He was on his way back to the Bunker after Sam and Dean had lost Jack when he felt the beginning of a headache coming on from angel radio.
"Feathers?" Crowley asked.
Castiel had had no choice but to bring the former demon with him. Sure, he could have left him behind, but that seemed to be overkill. So far, he wasn't the worst road trip passenger the angel had traveled with, but he was far from the best either.
"It's angel radio," he explained, searing pain going through his head, making him dizzy. It subsided as suddenly as it had come on.
"Did you hear that Cas?" was the next thing that he heard in his head. It was Harry.
"Yes. Do you think…"
"Has to be. I'll get Sam and Dean and meet you there?"
"What about Jack?"
"He's here in the Bunker."
Father, give me the patience to deal with these Winchesters, Castiel thought. Why hadn't anyone called him? He asked Harry that question. He got the prayer version of a shrug back. He sighed and got back on the road.
"Change of plan," he told Crowley. "We've got a case."
III
Harry had rested, as Mary had ordered. It was the next day when both he and Jack had heard the panic over angel radio. He had been talking to Sam and Dean when it happened, so there had been no keeping it from them.
Of course, he had immediately made plans to leave. And, as always, his brothers were standing in the way of that plan.
"No, you're staying here," Dean said when Harry started following them to the garage. "You're having a major meltdown. And I'm not sure that you've even sobered up. You are on the bench until further notice."
"Dean," Sam hissed. "Nicer."
"What? We don't have time for nicer."
"This is Lucifer we're talking about!" Harry protested.
"SHHH!" Sam and Dean said at the same time. They had Mary distracting Jack. They didn't want Jack to know that they were going after Lucifer. Dean still didn't trust the kid and strongly suspected that when he had left the Bunker earlier, it had been in search of his father, not in search of Harry, as he had claimed.
It was all very shady.
"You need me," Harry said, lowering his voice, even though it was stupid, because, in all likelihood, Jack could hear them anyway. It was amazing how his brothers forgot that angels had far better hearing than humans.
"Not in this state we don't," Dean said bluntly, not trying to sugarcoat anything. A look from Sam made him roll his eyes. "Harry, you just lost your godfather. You are, understandably, all torn up about that. It's an emotional liability. Look, it will take us a couple of hours to get to where Cas and Crowley are. If you are feeling better by then, or at least, less drunk, you can just fly and meet us."
"Dean are you sure that that is the best - "
Sam was silenced by a look from his older brother.
"Exactly what he said," Sam conceded. "We know that Sirius meant a lot to you. Maybe you should call your friends at Hogwarts, and check in on them. See how things are on their front. Dean and I will take care of Lucifer."
"It's bloody Lucifer!" Harry said. "I don't know why the two of you are so determined to not take your most powerful asset every time you face him. I'm not the one with baggage, as far as he is concerned. If we're talking about emotional liability, that's Sam. Lucifer never possessed or tortured me for years."
The look of utter betrayal on Sam's face almost made Harry feel bad. Almost. He just couldn't believe that they were back here.
"You ain't coming with us, and that's final," Dean said, turning towards the Impala.
Sam looked at him with sympathy, which Harry hated.
"You can come later, if you want. We'll let you know if we come across anything we can't handle."
"You never let me know that," Harry grumbled. He knew that he could push the issue, and that, realistically, his brothers couldn't stop him from doing anything that he wanted to do. But, unfortunately, they had a good point.
Although the alcohol had mostly worn off, he was still a little tipsy. And emotionally drained. Losing Sirius was...well it was a lot.
"Fine," he finally agreed. "But if he's there, you've gotta let me know. I mean it this time."
"Yeah, yeah," Dean said. "Sam, you ready?"
"Ready as I can be," he said. "How is it still Lucifer?"
"That's just our luck."
The two of them got in the car and drove off.
"I can't believe that worked," Dean confessed to Sam when they were well out of hearing range of Harry.
"Me neither. It goes to show how badly he's doing. That wasn't much of a fight at all."
"You're worried too?"
"How could I not be? The last time he...well, when he died, he was mourning an imaginary family that he never really had. We might not have liked Black much, but he was really important to Harry. After Bobby died, we had no business going on cases either."
"Not that we let that stop us."
"We didn't have a choice," Sam said. But Dean was right, they weren't known for knowing their limits and acting on them accordingly. It was a toxic Winchester trait.
"Do you think mom will be alright?" Dean asked.
"Yeah," Sam said. "She seems really good, for having been trapped in Limbo for the last couple of months."
"She's strong," Dean replied. "I can't believe that she's doing so well either, but here we are. Nothing can keep a Winchester down.
III
"Where do you think you're going?" Castiel growled as Crowley started slinking off from where they had parked. This was the site where the Cupid had been killed, and they were meant to be investigating. Sam and Dean would be there within the hour to help them out.
"I'm human now, I can hardly help," Crowley said. "So, I thought that I'd just stop by the local watering hole. You know, Castiel, some of us do need to eat and drink. And piss. I'm sure you can carry on whatever passes as what you call an investigation without me."
Castiel didn't trust Crowley. He'd be a fool to. He couldn't sense that the former demon, now possibly a wizard, was lying. Maybe not telling the whole truth, but enough of it that he couldn't come up with a reason as to why he should keep him here. Plus, he was annoying. Demon or not.
"Fine. But stay close."
"Sir, yes, sir," Crowley mocked saluted him, and went quickly made his exit.
He looked around a little before he entered the bar to make sure that no one was following him. It seemed that Castiel was content with his explanation (or so annoyed by his presence that he didn't care) that the angel just let him be.
He saddled up to the bar.
"I was beginning to worry that you wouldn't show," a voice to his left said. He winced. It was especially scary now that he didn't have any powers to protect him. Not that anything would have been enough to protect him from Death herself.
"Would I do that to you?"
"If you thought it was in your best interest, I believe you would kill your own mother. Oh, sorry, of course, you'd happily do that in any case. There are no lines you won't cross. Not being a demon anymore hasn't changed that about you."
"You said that if I cured myself and closed the Gates of Hell my soul would be clean again," he hissed. "And I did everything you said. Everything. To a "t." I found Kevin Tran. I released him. I made the modifications to the spell and used Sirius Black's blood. But nothing is happening the way you said it would! The Gates are not shut. Sirius Black is dead. And I have all the magic of a bloody squib." He was furious. He had been the King of Hell! And he had given it all up for…seemingly nothing.
"Oh ye of little faith," Billie replied. "You're right. You've done everything asked of you. But there is still more to come. Everything is going according to the plan I laid out."
Crowley huffed at her mysterious words that gave him absolutely no new information. "I thought that you didn't believe in interference," he sneered the last word. "You wanted balance but said that you weren't the agent for that change."
Billie glared at him so intensely that he was sure that he was going to drop dead, right there on the spot.
"I don't believe in interference," she said, barely contained rage just at the edge of her voice. "But the Winchesters don't play by the rules. And they have been allowed to pervert the natural order for far too long. I had no choice. I tried to warn them. I tried to get them to stop the abominations from existing and they failed. Someone has to clear up this mess and it won't be them. It'll be me."
"With my assistance. I think that I deserve some answers from you. You told me that by the time I was human that all realms would be cut off. Instead, I'm having to fend off bloody demon attacks. And as soon as word gets out, I'm sure I'll have Heaven to contend with too."
Billie arched an eyebrow. "Have you forgotten to whom you are speaking?" She asked in a dangerous, low voice.
"Have you forgotten to whom you are speaking?" Crowley mocked back at her. "I've got Moose and Squirrel on speed dial, not that I need it, seeing as Castiel is only a couple of blocks away. I tell them what you are up to and…"
There was no warning. No chance to take back his words. No time to realize his mistake and blame his returned humanity on his utter and complete lack of common sense and self-preservation.
One moment he was alive, human, and a little tipsy.
The next he was dead.
Billie looked at the spot that had once held Crowley. "I guess I didn't need your assistance anymore." She threw some money down on the counter and walked out of the bar.
III
Lucifer didn't know much about his son. They had connected when the child had still been in the womb, but it hadn't been enough time for him to truly know the kid. Of course, Potter had said something about him being a good kid but Lucifer figured that Jack could have fooled them all.
He knew that he was strong. Powerful – a chip off the old block. Of course, he'd need some training up, but Lucifer was confident that he could shape him to be exactly what he envisioned. After all, it wasn't as if Jack was his first creation. Lucifer had created many – some better than others, but Jack had something that the others did not. A piece of Lucifer himself.
And he couldn't imagine anything that could make him more powerful.
Since eating the Cupid, Lucifer had regained some clarity. He was going to have to find more grace while he recovered.
But the way that angel radio had gone insane after his last kill, he knew that he was going to have to keep a lower profile. Thankfully, the grace was enough to get him into a free motel room.
He hadn't anticipated landing in a different place than his new creations but perhaps that was for the better. They wouldn't know how weak he had become. And, after his conversation with the Cupid, he realized that the purpose that they were going to serve was going to be very different from what he had initially planned.
He really only needed about ten of them to accomplish what he wanted with the wizarding world – which was to bring it to its knees so that the Winchesters (or really, the middle Winchester) had no choice but to hand his son over to him. The added benefit of getting revenge on Gabriel by killing the one who his brother loved the most was just a cherry on top. Of course, the he and Jack together would crush the entire world under their heels, but that was Step Two of Plan B.
Plan A would be a lot smoother, but without knowing where his son's loyalties lay, it was a little bit more complicated.
Lucifer started painting a sigil on the wall with a little bit of blood from his wrist, with quick, confident strokes from his finger.
Once the art was complete, he pressed his palm firmly against the wall. The rush of magic was immediate as the beacon lit up.
It was only a matter of time now.
III
"Cas!" Dean called out as he spotted his angel friend from behind. He was impossible to miss in his trench coat.
He and Sam quickly made their way over to where Castiel was just leaving a conversation with a police officer.
"Agents," he greeted them. He frowned a little. "Where's Harry?"
"We left him at home," Sam said.
"And he agreed?"
"Eh, for the moment. We'll see how long it lasts," Dean said. "He's really in no place to be out on cases right now."
"But when has that ever stopped any of us?" Sam added.
"Right, almost never. What'd you learn?"
Cas's expression became even more serious than before. "I went to the morgue earlier and I confirmed – it was a Cupid that was killed. His grace had been drained and he died from a fist through the chest."
Sam and Dean both winced when they heard that.
"Do you think…" Sam started.
"Lucifer, it has to be. No one else would have that power. Except for Gabriel. Did he come back to the Bunker with Harry."
Sam and Dean looked at each other. They hadn't thought about Gabriel at all.
"…he didn't," Cas said.
"No," Sam confirmed. "He didn't. And Harry didn't say anything about him."
Castiel's brows furrowed. "That seems unlike him, what do you think…"
"No idea," Dean cut him off. "But we have bigger fish to fry at the moment. Namely, the Devil is loose somewhere around here, gaining power."
"A Cupid won't have as much grace as other angels."
"Right – are you sure that you should be here at all then?" Dean asked. "Because if Lucifer's feasting on angels, if we find him, we're practically serving you up to him on a platter."
"I have to help," Castiel said.
"Speaking of missing people – weren't you with Crowley?" Sam asked, looking around.
"Yes. He went into a bar a couple of hours ago. I'm assuming that he is drinking away his troubles."
"Well, let's go find the limey bastard and then get on with it. We're gonna need all the help we can get. Do you know which bar?"
Cas pointed.
"Great. Let's go. But if he's passed out, I say we just leave him there." Dean started to head to where Cas indicated.
III
Jack didn't understand. He could feel it. A…pull. Like someone was calling him. Almost as if his wings were ready to work on their own. For a moment, he considered answering the call.
There was a voice, somewhere, deep inside him that told him to go. That he was needed. That he was wanted.
He shook his head and the feeling melted away. He shivered and a terrible feeling came over him.
Jack decided to fly, but not out of the Bunker, instead, he went straight to where he could feel Harry's presence.
Harry was in the magical part of the Bunker. He was sitting in a large leather chair with a glass of something that made Jack's nose crinkle. Whatever that was…whiskey, maybe, he identified the smell, seemed to fill the whole space.
The expression on Harry's face was like nothing Jack had ever seen before. It was horrible – a mix of grief and absolute and complete exhaustion.
"What are you doing?" He asked before he could stop himself.
"Hiding," Harry responded.
"From who?"
"Mom."
"Oh – Harry, I wanted to ask you…"
"Jack, I'm really not in the mood for a heartwarming little chat. Maybe you should go ask someone who is a little more competent at this whole parenting thing."
There was an edge to his voice that made Jack flinch back a little. "But this thing happened and I was wondering…"
"Jack, seriously. Go find Sam. Or Cas. Hell, at this point, I'm pretty sure Dean would be a better man for you to take whatever issue you're having right now. You heard them earlier – you always hear them, don't you? They don't need me. They can take on the Devil, all by themselves."
"Lucifer?" Contrary to what Harry was saying, Jack did not always listen in on all the conversations in the Bunker, even though he could. Mostly he found them boring. And a little overwhelming. Most of the time he tried to have his headphones on to block out the excess noise.
"Yep, daddy dearest."
Jack flinched back. "Did they leave you here to babysit me? I know Dean doesn't trust me but…"
Harry snorted. "They left me behind because that's what they always do. I'm not needed. They can save the world without me – they've done it plenty of times. I'm just a third wheel. The unnecessary Winchester. I don't fit." His tone wasn't bitter, which almost made it worse. Jack could tell he well and truly believed every word that he said.
"That's not true!"
"What would you know, Jack?"
"I know a family when I see one," he responded stubbornly.
Harry had a snarky comeback to that but he stopped himself short. Jack didn't deserve to be snapped at because he happened to be in the room while Harry was feeling miserable. It was actually why he had come to this room, to begin with. To keep his misery from hurting everyone else around him. He sighed. "Really, Jack, I'm begging you, I just need this time," his tone was kinder than before.
An onslaught of Harry's emotions hit Jack, almost as if the man was purposefully projecting them on him. Hopelessness, loss, hurt, disappointment, and earth-shattering grief. It was a depth of emotion that Jack had never experienced before. And it made him forget why he could to this room in the first place. He just needed this feeling to stop. "I'll go," he said quietly and he left.
III
Lucifer didn't have to wait long.
The first of his newest creations arrived only minutes after he had pressed his hand to the sigil on the wall.
It was a man who appeared to be younger than some of the others. Lucifer had never bothered to learn his name. It didn't matter.
"My liege," the man greeted him, bowing low in a way that pleased the Devil. "I am so relieved to see you. When I landed back on Earth alone, I thought the worst…"
"You doubted me?" Lucifer snapped out.
The wizard demon's eyes went wide. "No…no, of course not," he stammered. "I would never, I was looking for you, but…"
Lucifer waved him off. "Good. That means the others are too. It's been a couple of days. What took you so long? Could you not feel my presence?"
"Not until you called out to us," the man said. "I promise, my lord, as soon as I could…"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever, what have you been doing since you've been back?"
"I – uh, I was looking for you, of course, but I also came across your servant that you sent here before the rest of us."
Sent was a generous term for what he had done. He hadn't been able to move through the door that they had briefly created. He had been forced to send a particularly fanatical follower through first. Sure, she was fine, as far as minions went, and she was unhinged enough to start the wave of terror that would come with his return. But the woman was nuts.
"And…" he prompted.
The man shifted on his feet. "She – she's working with the earth-magic Rowena."
Lucifer shifted forward quickly, taking the man by his neck. "I killed that bitch."
"Of course, yes, of course, but she…"
"I don't care. What does she have to do with my mission?" He squeezed a little tighter.
"She…" the man gasped, "she's helping us get to Hogwarts. Gormlaith is about to bring the wizarding world to its knees. The whole… the whole of wizarding Britain is hiding from her there. She's going to kill them all."
Lucifer smirked. Good. At least someone had gotten to work while he was gone.
Without any warning or preamble, he took out his angel blade and slit the demon wizard's throat so that he could consume his grace.
It didn't taste very good it was twinged with something fundamentally human, but it did what it needed to.
Without a thought, he tossed the body to the side. A couple more of those and he'd be ready to go to Hogwarts himself. He knew the place was special to Gabriel and he couldn't wait to see the look on his brother's face when it was nothing more than rubble on the ground and his people were no more than ash in the wind.
III
"Do you think that he just ditched?" Dean asked as they searched the last bar in town. It was a waste of their time, he was sure, but when they hadn't found the former King of Hell in the bar that Cas had seen him walk into, they got concerned. Not for the man himself, but more about what he was up to.
"I don't know how he could have disappeared so completely," Cas said. "Unless…"
"Unless what?" Dean asked, not liking the look on Castiel's face.
"It's probably nothing," Cas said.
Sam saw through the lie and, for about the millionth time, wondering how this was the angel that had once so thoroughly deceived both of them so many times.
"Cas…" he started.
The angel sighed. "Crowley didn't just cure himself," he said. "He used Sirius Black's blood specifically because he believed that it would mean that he wouldn't just be a human. He'd be a wizard."
"Crowley's a wizard?" Dean demanded, alarmed.
"Unclear," Castiel said. "He needs a wand. Even though, he's likely pretty weak. But if he had somehow gotten one…"
"Is there a large wizarding population in this town?" Sam asked, more concerned that Crowley was now, somehow, magical than he was about the fact that Castiel had lied to them. Again.
Dean wasn't ready to let that one go. "And when, exactly, were you planning on telling us this?" He growled.
Castiel winced. "I only just discovered it myself. I believe we have more…pressing issues, at the moment."
"More pressing than a Crowley who can AK people?" Dean hissed.
"Yes," Cas said. He stopped for a second, listening. "There's been another body…no, bodies discovered. Dead the same way the Cupid was," the police radio was a bit unclear, but four bodies had been discovered in a hotel room.
"Don't think we're done talking about this," Dean said, pointing at him. "But let's go."
III
"And you're sure that you don't need me?" Harry asked at the end of his conversation with Sam. He had been pleasantly surprised that his younger brother had called to update him on what was happening on the case that he and Dean had left him behind for.
"No. We think that Lucifer is long gone," Sam told him. "We're on the way back to the Bunker now. Do you have any sense of where he is?"
Harry had never been able to feel Lucifer in the way that he could with other angels. "No," he responded. "He's too good at hiding himself for me to be able to find him," at least, that's what Harry assumed.
"What about Gabriel?"
Harry's stomach clenched. He didn't know where Gabriel was. Or where he had sent him when he was at the height of his grief. Honestly, he was a little surprised and worried that he hadn't heard from him since then. Maybe he was just pouting. "I haven't heard from him," Harry said.
"What happened when…"
"Hey, Mom's calling me," Harry said, stopping the line of questioning before it could begin. "I think she needs my help with something. We'll see you soon."
"Harry…" he hung up the phone.
Gabriel, if you can hear me, I'm sorry, Harry prayed. Come back, please? Lucifer's up to something terrible and I think we're going to need all the man, er, angel, power we can get.
He looked up, expecting to see the angel appear in front of him.
When he didn't, his worry deepened. Where had the archangel gone?
III
Waking up in Heaven was not Gabriel's idea of a good time.
Anything to have to do with Heaven was not Gabriel's idea of anything he would ever like to be dealing with.
He had chosen Earth millennia ago and had never once regretted that choice.
Currently, he was being reminded that it hadn't just been the family drama and daddy issues that had driven him away.
It was the angels. What they lacked in personality they did not make up for in a sense of humor. It was clear that they revered him and loathed him all at once and that led them to be both simpering and passive-aggressive.
He had, upon realizing where Harry had sent him, wanted to leave immediately, but he had been greeted by Naomi. She was annoying but at least she had enough of a personality to actually get shit done. And she had personally tortured Castiel, which got her a couple of points in Gabriel's book. That alone had been enough for him to give her a couple of minutes of his time.
But it had now been far more than a couple of minutes.
There were other benefits to being in Heaven, of course, otherwise, he wouldn't have even lasted even this long.
Whatever damage had been caused by the atmosphere in Limbo plus whatever Harry had done to him was almost instantly repaired. Gabriel hadn't felt this physically good in centuries. And he was getting stronger with every hour he spent here.
Yes, he was staying because it was making him stronger. Not because he was afraid to face total and complete rejection from Harry should he return while the grief was still so strong.
What had happened to Sirius wasn't his fault, he knew that. And he knew that Harry's grief meant that he was lashing out at anyone and everyone just to try and escape his own crippling guilt. Emotions weren't something that Gabriel felt particularly adept at handling. If Harry was interested in a cruel-but-just prank to make himself feel better, Gabriel would have been his angel.
But Harry needed more than that.
"…riel…Lord Gabriel…"
Gabriel's eyes snapped up. Right, he was in a meeting.
"Yeah, yeah, that all sounds good," he said, not having heard a single word anyone had said.
The angels all gave him blank looks, except for Naomi, who pursed her lips like an angry schoolmarm.
"We were discussing how to best use the limited resources we have to ensure that Heaven is running for as long as possible. To prevent hundreds of thousands of souls from falling back down to Earth and inundating the veil. And you think it 'sounds good,'?"
Gabriel waved her off. "I'm sure that whatever you have planned is great. Look, I wasn't really meant for all of this…" he glanced around, "ruling. That was something more up Mikey and Lucy's alleys. I'm just the spunky comic relief."
He hadn't thought it was possible, but somehow, Naomi's face became even more severe. "We need you to lead, Lord Gabriel. You are the only one that might be able to create more angels."
Gabriel laughed. He laughed hysterically until he realized that he was the only one in the room doing so. "Oh shit, you think I can do that?"
"Lucifer claimed that he could."
Gabriel's eyes narrowed. "Then why don't you bring him up here?"
There were scandalized gasps all around the room.
"The last time we allowed that…snake…up here, he killed angels indiscriminately. As you know, we don't have the numbers to sustain such a lack of care."
Gabriel couldn't argue with that. "Well, let me save you some time. Lucifer cannot create more angels."
"He created demons!" an angel that had a name, Gabriel couldn't care less what it was, protested. "And wizard demons. If he can create such powerful creatures then…"
"You know how he created those creatures?" Gabriel asked. "By twisting and corrupting their souls."
"What of the Nephilim, Jack?" another one asked.
"What about him?"
"Is he not an angel that Lucifer created? Could you not do the same?"
Gabriel gave a lecherous grin and wiggled his eyebrow suggestively. "Sure, I've got plenty of the…mojo…required. But are you suggesting that I go back down to Earth and impregnate humans so that Heaven can be run by their spawn? Did you learn nothing for Nephilim of the past?"
The angel at least at the good grace to look a little ashamed.
"What about Harry Potter?" yet another angel asked. Gabriel was beginning to wonder if there were still too many angels in the world. "Did you not create him?"
Gabriel gritted his teeth. "Harry created himself," he said, which was mostly true, "and he was able to do so because of a bargain Dad made with Death and then with me. I did not create Harry – he exists because Dad allowed him to. So, unless you have a way to get Dad…"
"Wait a second," Naomi interrupted him. "What about your battalion?"
"I didn't create them either – they chose to become human and…"
"No," she interjected again. "What about wizarding heaven? If legend is true then your battalion was cursed to serve as guardians to their own offspring once they died from their mortal lives?"
"Cursed?"
"The words do not matter. There should be what…hundreds of these angels?"
"Eight hundred and forty-five," Gabriel responded. It was a number he would never forget.
Naomi was practically salivating at the number.
"I have no way of getting to them, so that's another no-go."
"Did you not rescue Harry Potter from there?"
"I did. But I only had a couple of hours. And I have no way of getting back."
"Have you ever tried?"
"Have I ever…what? Have I ever tried getting to my people before?" Gabriel could feel anger building under his skin in a way that he hadn't in a very long time. How dare this bitch suggest that he had willingly abandoned his own people? "I tried everything. Even trying to hitch myself to the soul of a dying wizard. I tried making deals with wizards on Earth to have them open a door once they arrived. I have been thwarted .time. Now, I think we've established that I can't do any good here. I should be returning…"
"But have you ever tried to enter wizarding Heaven from here?" Naomi pushed.
Gabriel looked at her like she had two heads. "There is no link."
"There hasn't been a link. But I think it's time that I show you who we have in Heaven's jail."
"Why don't you just tell me so I can get the hell out of Heaven?"
She shook her head. "I think it'll be better if you see." She stood up from the table. "The rest of you are dismissed," she said, abandoning any pretense that Gabriel was the one in charge here. "Come with me, Lord Gabriel."
AN – Y'all we're close. TWO MORE CHAPTERS! (And an epilogue.) I'm posting early because I am going out of town for the weekend and I'm going to be too busy to post tomorrow.
Also, I hope no one thought I'd killed Gabriel. I couldn't do that. Although, I'll admit I've thought about it. Hopefully you can see the plotline I've been building for what feels like forever.
As always, thank you to everyone reading. Hope you're all strapped in tight. I will see you next week.