SPN Fanfic: And I Heard The Thunder Rolling In 2/2?
It's as done as it's gonna get. *hits post*
Title: And I Heard The Thunder Rolling In 2/2?
Warnings/Rating: SPOILERS FOR 4.22 Contains massive speculation-as-fic. AU from 4.22. Open-ended. GEN, PG-13 (Some R-rated language)
Word Count: 4000
Disclaimer: Not mine
Summary: AU - Lucifer's got Sam, Dean's got Bobby, and everyone is making new allegiances.
A/N MEH. Totally AU now, but here's another bit anyway, sneaking out in a mad mangled and probably error-filled scramble before 5.02 airs in my time zone. Mainly posting this for my own sanity and the morbidly curious *waves at ciaranbochna* This story is uninfluenced by the amazingly few spoilers I've seen (yay team! \o/) and not influenced by anything in 5.01 (with great struggling to keep it so, to the point of crippling one section entirely since Kripke brought up an issue before I could, which is another reason why I'm hanging this one up here. Sorry.) [LJ-only]
Part One
-
And I Heard The Thunder Rolling In 2/2
by CaffieneKitty
-
- ~ -
The ride to Bobby's was silent, Bobby's being a better place than most to start looking for Sam. No telling where Lucifer had snatched him off to, so staying in the area of the convent was pointless. Over the miles, sitting in the passenger seat, Dean had plenty of time to stew and worry and not much else to distract him.
He was about set to explode out of the car when Ellen parked, but lingered by the vehicle. He had to know.
"Where do you stand, Ellen? On me and Sam?"
"On Sam, you mean," said Ellen blandly.
Dean repeated the question. "Where do you stand?"
Ellen looked at Dean over the car's roof. "We need to hunt Sam down, bring him in, keep him safe."
Dean's jaw clenched. "Why do I not really believe part three of that?"
Ellen paused beside the car, tipping her chin up to meet Dean's eyes. "You used to trust me, Dean."
"Not really."
"Well, fine then. You didn't used to assume I was working against you."
"Things have changed," Dean said tightly.
"Yes. They have." Ellen snapped. "But not where it counts. Not for me."
She slammed the driver's side door and stalked into Bobby's house. Hunt Sam down, she said. Dean thought, shutting the door and watching her go. Not find Sam, hunt him. Plenty of basis for trust there.
The tow-truck was parked off-kilter in its usual place, and Rufus was nowhere to be seen. Bobby was re-winding the tow hook cables, and nodded at Ellen as she went inside, then glanced towards Dean.
Dean went over and snagged Bobby by the elbow. "We gotta talk."
"No kidding. Why do you think I'm messing with these damn cables? For my OCD?" Bobby glanced at the house and started taking the scenic route to the front door, Dean in tow.
"What exactly happened?" Bobby asked.
"Ruby was playing Sam all along. The gate was opened." Doesn't matter by who. "Lucifer is out, he possessed Sam, then popped out before he collapsed the convent." Dean shook his head. "How could that even happen? Sam getting possessed? Sam's got the anti-possession thing, same as I do."
Bobby frowned. "Either he's too powerful, more than likely, or the rules apply different to him. Lucifer's not a demon, he's a fallen angel."
"Dammit, Bobby!"
"Hey, I don't think anything would be strong enough to keep Lucifer out if he wants in! Nothing I can do anyway."
Dean glanced up as the door to Bobby's place slammed. "What did you tell Ellen and Rufus?"
"Nothing they didn't need to know. Told 'em you disappeared out from in front of me, Sam was missing and there was a demon showdown in progress. I didn't have a hell of a pile of details to give anyone. What happened to you anyway? You disappeared from in front of me. Where'd you go?"
"Frigging angels benched me. The bastards wanted the Apocalypse, Bobby. They wanted- They want a war."
Bobby's eyebrows shot skyward. "Castiel does?"
"No, some dick named Zachariah, supposed to be Cas's superior." Dean grimaced. "I've had more superior things stuck to the bottom of my shoe. Castiel sprung me out of the place, sent me to Sam, but I didn't get there in time."
Bobby nodded towards the house. "Rufus knows I was keeping Sam locked up here earlier, and you heard him back at the convent. He's made his own mind up."
"Why'd you even bring Rufus into this?"
Bobby rubbed the back of his neck. "Needed him to find you. Rufus knows a few things I don't, has an ear in a few circles I'm not privy to."
"What's gonna happen when we find Sam, Bobby?" Dean turned to face his friend. "Better yet, what's gonna keep Rufus from taking what you know, adding it to what he knows, finding Sam himself and not bothering to tell us? What if he just goes off to hunt him down?"
Bobby met his eyes for a second, before his gaze flicked over Dean's shoulder towards the house, then slid to the side.
"Yeah. Screw that." Dean turned away from Bobby and stalked towards the house.
Ellen and Rufus looked up when the front door banged open. They stood in the kitchen a neutral distance apart; not friendly, but not unfriendly either.
"I thought you'd stopped hunting, Rufus," said Dean, barging in and ignoring Ellen. "Gone the happy hermit route."
"Yeah, well, Apocalypse. It's a game-changer." Rufus leaned against Bobby's kitchen counter, crossing his arms. "Figured there ain't much point in staying holed up, waiting for Hell to come to me. May as well try and do something about it."
"And what exactly would that be, Rufus? Hunh?" Dean crossed his arms too. "What do you think you can do to stop the Apocalypse?"
Rufus looked levelly at Dean. "How many people have you exorcised, Dean?"
Dean frowned. "What's that got to-"
"How many of 'em died?"
Dean's mouth snapped shut, eyes flaring.
Bobby stepped up beside Dean. "If you got a point, Rufus, make it."
"All I'm saying is I'm sure your brother was a nice kid growing up, but he ain't nice no more. I never believed Gordon, but it turns out in that particular regard, he actually wasn't crazier than a shithouse rat. Your brother is the Anti-Christ. Near as I can tell in retrospect, he always has been."
Dean jerked his chin up and took a step forward, hands dropping to his sides and balling into fists. "You shut your mouth about my brother."
Rufus looked at Dean sadly, with pity. "Deny it all you want, Dean but facts are facts. Your brother is going to help Lucifer destroy the world. If you haven't got the stomach to do what needs doing, then stay out of the way and let someone else handle it. I'm going to stop Sam and stop the Apocalypse by any means necessary. God help anyone who gets in my way."
Dean took another step forward but found Bobby solidly in his way, holding him back.
"Rufus, thank you for your help," Bobby growled. "You've said your piece, take your damn books and go."
Rufus casually leaned away from the counter and picked a stack of books off the side table. "I am sorry it has to be this way, Dean, but I understand. I'd find it hard to see reason too if it was my brother."
Dean seethed as Rufus brushed past Ellen and left. Ellen watched him go.
"Ellen...?" said Dean.
Ellen glanced towards Bobby, then Dean, then slid her eyes down to the floor and turned to follow Rufus.
A slim thread of shock slid through Dean, despite his earlier suspicions. "Looks like things have changed after all, hunh, Ellen?" He called after her, voice rough.
Ellen stopped in the doorway, shoulders stiffening, but said nothing and continued out the door after Rufus.
Dean's eyes went hard, staring into the vacant space where Ellen had been, listening to her car start and drive away. Rufus he'd expected. Ellen... he'd hoped he was wrong about Ellen. Obviously he was a better judge of character than he'd thought.
He became aware of Bobby watching him.
"You wanna go hunt Sam too, Bobby?" Dean said without looking at the older hunter. "I mean why the hell not, right?"
"Dean... I'm sorry."
"Don't. Just-" Dean shook his head, turned and walked out into the junk yard feeling Bobby's eyes follow him out.
He wanted nothing more than to get in the Impala and take off to search for Sam, but he didn't even know where to start. Rufus was tracking Sam, with Ellen- Dean swallowed sourly. Odds of them sharing anything they found out were nil. Which left Castiel, who given the situation he'd been in when he sent Dean to Ilchester, might not even be an angel anymore.
Dean headed out into the maze of car wrecks.
-
Ten minutes later Dean hadn't come back in yet, but Bobby suspected he'd be out a while. If he was calling that angel of his, Bobby hoped the feathery bastard was still around to answer. The only time he'd met Castiel, he'd ended up unconscious, but if the angel was willing to disobey and risk his own existence to help out the Winchester boys, he couldn't be all bad. Maybe a bit of an idjit, but if that was the case, so was Bobby.
The phone on Bobby's desk rang. He glanced towards the window and picked up the receiver.
"Hello?"
"Hey Bobby. Can we talk?" Ellen's voice was hushed on the phone.
"Can you?"
"Rufus is out of earshot, in the gas station before the highway. Is Dean...?"
"Yeah. He'll be fine. He's-" Castiel's nature and existence wasn't something Bobby had shared with anyone outside of Pamela Barnes. "He's just outside blowin' off steam."
"He's angry."
"Kid's heartbroke." True enough. "Probably feels like me and him are the only ones not out gunning for Sam, and he's not too sure about me either."
"That was hard." Her voice roughened. "It's hard. Haven't seen either of them for years and the first thing I have to do is hurt the poor bastard."
"It's for the best. Dean's right. Rufus wouldn't tell us jack about Sam. If he found out where he was, he'd mount up a lynch mob and go after him."
"I know. The hardest thing is keeping quiet. Sam needs to be found, but we'll figure out a way to do it without starting an all-out assault."
"You keep me posted if Rufus gets on to something."
"Of course." The line fell silent for a second, Bobby could hear traffic passing by. "Will you tell Dean? That I'm on their side?"
"When the time comes, yeah. It had to be done this way. His reaction had to be genuine. If Dean reacted with anything but-"
"Loathing?"
"Wasn't a word I'd've picked, but yeah. If he hadn't acted like you'd betrayed him, Rufus would never buy it, and he'd never trust you enough to let you in. He's a canny old son of a bitch."
"Takes one to beat one."
Bobby smirked. "Damn straight. You watch yourself, Ellen. You get in trouble you holler."
"You take care too, Bobby."
"Don't worry 'bout me. I'm as tough as old boots."
"Still." In the background, Bobby heard a convenience store door chime sound. "Gotta go," Ellen said, and the connection dropped without further comment.
Bobby hung up. Yep. We're wall-to-wall idjits around here.
- ~ -
Dean was wearing a rut in the packed mud of the junkyard. He had shouted for Castiel for hours only days before in this same spot, until he was hoarse, but this time he was worried. The last time Dean had seen him, the angel had disobeyed his (technical) superior and had been facing Chuck's archangel.
Cas isn't exactly the best at combat and he was standing down the biggest weapon Heaven's got. If he- Dean shook his head. "C'mon, Cas, please!"
Between one step and the next, Dean heard the telltale flutter. The shock of relief turned worry into anger. He spun and crossed the empty space in three strides.
"Where the hell have you been?!" shouted Dean, grabbing the angel by the lapels of his trenchcoat.
Castiel said, looking down at Dean's hands gripping his collar before looking back up. "I was ascertaining our immediate situation."
"Um. Hi," said a smallish voice behind Castiel. Dean looked over. Chuck stood in Bobby's junk yard holding a big black garbage bag. He waved his free hand.
"Chuck? What are you doing here?"
"He, um." Chuck gestured vaguely at Castiel. "He brought me along."
"What? Are you crazy, Cas? He's got an Archangel in tow!"
Castiel met Dean's eyes. "No. He doesn't."
"What?"
"The prophesy came to pass, Lucifer rose, and as far as I know, the Archangels have been recalled to the war."
"As far as you know?"
"I- I no longer hear- I..." Castiel looked to the side, lost.
Dean frowned. "You're on Zach's shit list. Cut off from the Angel Network."
"Yes. It is written that when Lucifer rises and Armageddon begins, all who serve will be called to war."
"And you didn't get your draft notice."
"I still serve God." Castiel's chin tipped up, defensive.
Dean let go of Castiel's lapels and looked him up and down. "Did... You're not...?"
"I've disobeyed, but I haven't Fallen." The angel stared down at the mud on his shoes. "I still retain my Grace. I don't know why."
Dean wasn't sure what to think of that.
"So, um. This is Bobby's wrecking yard, right?"
Dean and Castiel turned to look at Chuck. The writer was turning slowly, trash bag over one shoulder, gaping at his surroundings.
"It's just, I've seen it so many times in my head. This reality thing still freaks me out. The smell is very...." Chuck looked around wide-eyed, sniffing. "...very rich. Layered." Chuck rested the black plastic bag on the ground and pulled out a notepad and a pen out of his shirt pocket.
Dean tugged Castiel to one side, away from the scribbling writer. "Cas, why'd you bring him here?"
"His Archangel has been recalled, but Chuck still receives the Word."
Dean looked at Chuck. Chuck glanced back at Dean before his eyes slid sideways to examine a crushed Volvo.
Castiel continued. "He also knows what he's already seen, and what has been written. He's in danger and cannot be left unprotected. His knowledge makes him a most valuable asset to all sides of this war."
"All that stuff's on his computer's hard drive too, and printed out, didja think of that?"
The corner of Castiel's mouth twitched. "Many supernatural entities are capable of emitting an electromagnetic pulse."
Chuck's head snapped up from his notebook. "You? You fried my hard drive? I thought it was the archangel?"
"Perhaps a combined effort," said Castiel neutrally.
"Aw, man! You have no idea how hard I worked on that stuff!"
Castiel stared at Chuck.
"Or, maybe you do. Um."
Castiel turned back to Dean. "We gathered what printed versions could be found, Chuck has them."
Chuck sighed and hoisted the black plastic garbage bag.
"What do you mean, 'What could be found?'" Dean asked.
"Archangels don't land softly."
Chuck rested the bag on the ground again. "My house is a wreck, there's crap everywhere. I was just grabbing everything made of paper and hoping."
"Great. So there might be hundreds of pages floating around loose where the demons can get at them."
Castiel's jaw tightened. "It's not an ideal scenario, but it's better than leaving everything behind."
Great. Angels and demons are after Chuck and he's defenseless. Dean looked around. "Come on, let's get you inside. I think Bobby's got a safe place for you."
Dean followed behind Castiel and Chuck as they walked through the wrecked cars to the house. Chuck could settle into Bobby's panic room. If he was still having visions, they'd find Sam in no time, and Rufus and Ellen could go screw themselves.
The only thing now was where the hell was Sam and what was Lucifer doing with him?
-
In the darkness inside himself, Sam began to hear things.
Screaming, pleading. Chanting. The slightest scent of blood, the vaguest feel of it slicking his fingers. The familiar iron-and-smoke tang.
Then voices.
"...let us play, Lord?"
NO.
"C'mon. Please? Let us at least meet him."
ALRIGHT. BUT NOT FOR LONG.
Sam felt suddenly hurled out into the forefront of his own consciousness.
MEET SOME FRIENDS OF MINE, SAMMY.
Sam staggered, blinking, the light too bright, the air too full of the scent of blood and iron and fire. He stumbled a step back and hit a wall, sliding down a bit. It was raining, rainwater washing blood from his hands and face. He was in an alley, he wasn't sure where, except it was a very old part of some city. Three people stood in front of him.
A fat man, round cheeks rosy with the cold asked, "Is it him?" and licked his lips.
A hollow-chested young man coughed and spat phlegm onto the wet alley pavement. "It is. Look."
A woman in black jeans and a red leather jacket grinned ferally. "Ooo. He looks scared."
Sam straightened against the wall, raising his chin. "I'm not scared."
A voice that seemed oddly familiar, although Sam was certain he'd never heard it before, came from the alley mouth. "You should be."
Sam turned in the direction of the voice to see a tall, gaunt man in a black trenchcoat walking down the alley towards him. The alley lights caught the man's eyes reflecting from the pale blue in a way that made them seem to glow. "No one will intercede for you, now that your purpose has been fulfilled. None except your guest."
Sam blinked rainwater out of his eyes. "Do... Do I know you?
The tall man came close, and the air felt colder. "When you where a very young child, you had pneumonia, worse than anyone realized. I sat with you then."
Sam frowned. "Only Dean and dad were-"
"When you were a much-younger man, a creature snapped three of your ribs, drove them into your lungs. While you healed enough to awaken and flee from me, I taught you how to play Sudoku. When you were at Cold Oak, and a man you turned your back on stabbed you through the spine, I was there. We spent three days together, you and I, watching your brother break so gloriously and sell his soul for you."
With dawning realization, Sam's stomach sank.
The gaunt man continued. "Half a hundred other close calls and near misses over the years, and that odd little hiccup with the lightning last year. We have had some very interesting conversations about the nature of Fate and free will and you have ranted a great deal less about being in my company than your brother always does. Even though neither of you ever remember me, or my children."
Sam breathed out. "You're Death."
The thin man dipped his chin in acknowledgment. "Yessss. And these are-" he turned to point a bony hand. "Pestilence..."
The young man wiped his nose on his sleeve and waved.
"...Famine...."
The fat, bald man bared even white teeth and nodded.
"...And War."
The woman grinned. "Heya, sport."
"The Four Horsemen," Sam whispered.
War snorted. "Horses are so last millennium."
Death waved a hand dismissively. "It's a convenient name. Nothing more."
"But when- How-"
"It's amazing. Once sixty-six seals went down, they all stopped worrying about the rest of the six hundred."
"Bad tactics," murmured War.
"Of those six hundred, ours are merely four. Left unattempted in Lilith's big push, just in case someone succeeded in stopping them from breaking."
"But now, Zachariah and his allies are too busy with other things. Rallying the troops, re-designing uniforms, putting the right spin on the Apocalypse for the masses, so on, so forth..."
"Our four little seals? Done." War snapped her fingers. "Last night. Hardly a struggle."
Death nodded. "'And the creature cried out, and the seal fell.' Dead easy."
Sam stood up, leaning away from the wall and standing straight. "What do you want from me?"
The Four looked at each other, grinning.
"Very different things, I would say," Death said. "They all end unpleasantly for you."
"You attacked our kids after all," said War. "Well, not you, but your allies. Killed a few of them."
"What? Who?"
"Gluttony, Sloth, Greed, they were mine," Famine said.
War's grin sharpened. "Pride and Wrath were mine. Envy's recovering from that exorcism your friend inflicted on him, thanks for asking."
"Lust's mine. My only one, but she... she was the best vector I could hope for." Pestilence messily blew his nose.
"You haven't killed any of mine," said the thin man. "In fact you've set one free and saved another from her involuntary role in opening a seal. I'm just rather pissed that you and your brother keep getting slipped 'get out of Death free' cards. Monumentally frustrating."
"So yeah, we've all got a personal grudge against you."
"Oh yeah?" Sam jerked his chin up defiantly. "Take your best shot."
A chuckle rose from the group. "No," said Famine, "You aren't our meat to play with yet. We just wanted to introduce ourselves, let you know that thanks to you hosting our Lord there, we get to come out and really dig in."
War purred. "It'll be so good to finally cut loose and let these mortals know what I'm really all about. No more of this diplomacy crap."
Pestilence stepped a little closer to Sam, ducking his head. "You've seen some of my work already."
"What?"
"Rivergrove, Oregon?" The young man sniffled and beamed. "That was just the beta-test. I can go global now. Or rather, soon."
"The Croatoan Virus?" Sam asked, memory surfacing.
Pestilence beamed. "You remember my work! That was an upgrade from the original blend. Much more virulent. Blood-to-blood transfer is a pain in the ass, but I think with a bit of tweaking, a few more test scenarios, it can go airborne and then, oh, then-"
"Don't bore him to Death with your technicalities, Pest," War muttered.
Pestilence dropped his eyes and backed away from Sam, wiping his nose.
"Why?" Sam looked between the people in front of him. "Why are you- why are you even telling me all this?"
BECAUSE IT AMUSES ME.
Sam felt himself ripped back from consciousness and returned to the place of nothing.
BECAUSE- The voice modulated down to a tolerable level again, "...because, while I am keeping you trapped in here, it's only fair that I keep you up to date on current events. Give you something to occupy your thoughts with, since your thoughts are all you have."
Sam seethed. So I'll be trapped inside myself and going crazy wondering what the hell they're doing?
"You're a sharp boy, Sammy. Azazel picked very well." Lucifer chuckled. "The Four Horsemen will be loyal lieutenants. They are not underlings who I needed to help me escape. They have not seen me in a state of weakness, and I owe them nothing. Things will be getting interesting now. Briefly and messily interesting, for most people. More than likely your brother too."
Sam roared in fury, "You said he'd live!" The sound of his own voice startled him.
"He's likely to try to get in my way, to get you back, or save the world or some such twaddle. I said I wouldn't kill him. If my underlings develop initiative and decide to take him out..." There was a sense of shrugging.
"You son of a bitch! You can't, you can't do that!" Sam said, his fury feeding his rediscovered voice. "I'll stop you."
"How?" Sam had a feeling, although he had no neck to strangle, he was being choked. "How will you stop me? You were made for me. No exorcism will force me out. Azazel, Ruby, among many other things, they gave you affinity. And that affinity makes me as much a part of you as your own blood."
Sam felt his body again for a second, and something like cold greasy fire chasing through his veins.
"Like the roots of a tree. I'll not be uprooted."
"Dean'll find you," said Sam with certainty. "Dean'll stop you."
"Dean, now he's a useful thing. Something I can use to torment you with. Even though you know how he really feels from that message he left."
Dean's words snapped through Sam again and he lost his new-found voice. Blood-sucking freak. Monster. There's no going back.
"I hear it echoing in your memory. He vowed to kill you. Just before I arrived, you were standing there, apologizing and waiting for him to kill you... You wouldn't have resisted, would you?"
Sam didn't answer.
The voice laughed again. "He wants to kill you and yet you want him kept alive. You have no sense of self-preservation. Not when it comes to Dean. This is what makes him useful. He keeps you in line and he's a source of entertainment in one convenient package. If he becomes a problem, though, he will be dealt with."
Lucifer left, leaving Sam in his own echoing darkness.
It didn't matter what Dean thought of Sam, or if he wanted Sam dead. He just had to live. But something Lucifer had said niggled at Sam.
He said Dean keeps me in line. Why would Lucifer need to keep me in line, unless I... I had a voice. If I can get back my voice... There's some way I can break his control.
I can fight him.
Sam tucked the thought away, and settled down to quietly testing his limits. There was a way to fight back, and Sam would find it.
- - -
(that's all. sorry)
Post A/N: Sorry to leave it there, but I did say open-ended. I really wish I'd started this much earlier in the hiatus, but it couldn't be helped. And, as I said above, there might be another part with more closure, or maybe just a point-form summary of where things would have gone from here. But until that unlikely day, this is as done as it gets, and you can assume that in the end, Sam and Dean won and drove off into the sunset in the Impala. Or something.
NO SPOILERS FOR UNAIRED EPISODES IN COMMENTS PLEASE.
Title: And I Heard The Thunder Rolling In 2/2?
Warnings/Rating: SPOILERS FOR 4.22 Contains massive speculation-as-fic. AU from 4.22. Open-ended. GEN, PG-13 (Some R-rated language)
Word Count: 4000
Disclaimer: Not mine
Summary: AU - Lucifer's got Sam, Dean's got Bobby, and everyone is making new allegiances.
A/N MEH. Totally AU now, but here's another bit anyway, sneaking out in a mad mangled and probably error-filled scramble before 5.02 airs in my time zone. Mainly posting this for my own sanity and the morbidly curious *waves at ciaranbochna* This story is uninfluenced by the amazingly few spoilers I've seen (yay team! \o/) and not influenced by anything in 5.01 (with great struggling to keep it so, to the point of crippling one section entirely since Kripke brought up an issue before I could, which is another reason why I'm hanging this one up here. Sorry.) [LJ-only]
Part One
-
And I Heard The Thunder Rolling In 2/2
by CaffieneKitty
-
- ~ -
The ride to Bobby's was silent, Bobby's being a better place than most to start looking for Sam. No telling where Lucifer had snatched him off to, so staying in the area of the convent was pointless. Over the miles, sitting in the passenger seat, Dean had plenty of time to stew and worry and not much else to distract him.
He was about set to explode out of the car when Ellen parked, but lingered by the vehicle. He had to know.
"Where do you stand, Ellen? On me and Sam?"
"On Sam, you mean," said Ellen blandly.
Dean repeated the question. "Where do you stand?"
Ellen looked at Dean over the car's roof. "We need to hunt Sam down, bring him in, keep him safe."
Dean's jaw clenched. "Why do I not really believe part three of that?"
Ellen paused beside the car, tipping her chin up to meet Dean's eyes. "You used to trust me, Dean."
"Not really."
"Well, fine then. You didn't used to assume I was working against you."
"Things have changed," Dean said tightly.
"Yes. They have." Ellen snapped. "But not where it counts. Not for me."
She slammed the driver's side door and stalked into Bobby's house. Hunt Sam down, she said. Dean thought, shutting the door and watching her go. Not find Sam, hunt him. Plenty of basis for trust there.
The tow-truck was parked off-kilter in its usual place, and Rufus was nowhere to be seen. Bobby was re-winding the tow hook cables, and nodded at Ellen as she went inside, then glanced towards Dean.
Dean went over and snagged Bobby by the elbow. "We gotta talk."
"No kidding. Why do you think I'm messing with these damn cables? For my OCD?" Bobby glanced at the house and started taking the scenic route to the front door, Dean in tow.
"What exactly happened?" Bobby asked.
"Ruby was playing Sam all along. The gate was opened." Doesn't matter by who. "Lucifer is out, he possessed Sam, then popped out before he collapsed the convent." Dean shook his head. "How could that even happen? Sam getting possessed? Sam's got the anti-possession thing, same as I do."
Bobby frowned. "Either he's too powerful, more than likely, or the rules apply different to him. Lucifer's not a demon, he's a fallen angel."
"Dammit, Bobby!"
"Hey, I don't think anything would be strong enough to keep Lucifer out if he wants in! Nothing I can do anyway."
Dean glanced up as the door to Bobby's place slammed. "What did you tell Ellen and Rufus?"
"Nothing they didn't need to know. Told 'em you disappeared out from in front of me, Sam was missing and there was a demon showdown in progress. I didn't have a hell of a pile of details to give anyone. What happened to you anyway? You disappeared from in front of me. Where'd you go?"
"Frigging angels benched me. The bastards wanted the Apocalypse, Bobby. They wanted- They want a war."
Bobby's eyebrows shot skyward. "Castiel does?"
"No, some dick named Zachariah, supposed to be Cas's superior." Dean grimaced. "I've had more superior things stuck to the bottom of my shoe. Castiel sprung me out of the place, sent me to Sam, but I didn't get there in time."
Bobby nodded towards the house. "Rufus knows I was keeping Sam locked up here earlier, and you heard him back at the convent. He's made his own mind up."
"Why'd you even bring Rufus into this?"
Bobby rubbed the back of his neck. "Needed him to find you. Rufus knows a few things I don't, has an ear in a few circles I'm not privy to."
"What's gonna happen when we find Sam, Bobby?" Dean turned to face his friend. "Better yet, what's gonna keep Rufus from taking what you know, adding it to what he knows, finding Sam himself and not bothering to tell us? What if he just goes off to hunt him down?"
Bobby met his eyes for a second, before his gaze flicked over Dean's shoulder towards the house, then slid to the side.
"Yeah. Screw that." Dean turned away from Bobby and stalked towards the house.
Ellen and Rufus looked up when the front door banged open. They stood in the kitchen a neutral distance apart; not friendly, but not unfriendly either.
"I thought you'd stopped hunting, Rufus," said Dean, barging in and ignoring Ellen. "Gone the happy hermit route."
"Yeah, well, Apocalypse. It's a game-changer." Rufus leaned against Bobby's kitchen counter, crossing his arms. "Figured there ain't much point in staying holed up, waiting for Hell to come to me. May as well try and do something about it."
"And what exactly would that be, Rufus? Hunh?" Dean crossed his arms too. "What do you think you can do to stop the Apocalypse?"
Rufus looked levelly at Dean. "How many people have you exorcised, Dean?"
Dean frowned. "What's that got to-"
"How many of 'em died?"
Dean's mouth snapped shut, eyes flaring.
Bobby stepped up beside Dean. "If you got a point, Rufus, make it."
"All I'm saying is I'm sure your brother was a nice kid growing up, but he ain't nice no more. I never believed Gordon, but it turns out in that particular regard, he actually wasn't crazier than a shithouse rat. Your brother is the Anti-Christ. Near as I can tell in retrospect, he always has been."
Dean jerked his chin up and took a step forward, hands dropping to his sides and balling into fists. "You shut your mouth about my brother."
Rufus looked at Dean sadly, with pity. "Deny it all you want, Dean but facts are facts. Your brother is going to help Lucifer destroy the world. If you haven't got the stomach to do what needs doing, then stay out of the way and let someone else handle it. I'm going to stop Sam and stop the Apocalypse by any means necessary. God help anyone who gets in my way."
Dean took another step forward but found Bobby solidly in his way, holding him back.
"Rufus, thank you for your help," Bobby growled. "You've said your piece, take your damn books and go."
Rufus casually leaned away from the counter and picked a stack of books off the side table. "I am sorry it has to be this way, Dean, but I understand. I'd find it hard to see reason too if it was my brother."
Dean seethed as Rufus brushed past Ellen and left. Ellen watched him go.
"Ellen...?" said Dean.
Ellen glanced towards Bobby, then Dean, then slid her eyes down to the floor and turned to follow Rufus.
A slim thread of shock slid through Dean, despite his earlier suspicions. "Looks like things have changed after all, hunh, Ellen?" He called after her, voice rough.
Ellen stopped in the doorway, shoulders stiffening, but said nothing and continued out the door after Rufus.
Dean's eyes went hard, staring into the vacant space where Ellen had been, listening to her car start and drive away. Rufus he'd expected. Ellen... he'd hoped he was wrong about Ellen. Obviously he was a better judge of character than he'd thought.
He became aware of Bobby watching him.
"You wanna go hunt Sam too, Bobby?" Dean said without looking at the older hunter. "I mean why the hell not, right?"
"Dean... I'm sorry."
"Don't. Just-" Dean shook his head, turned and walked out into the junk yard feeling Bobby's eyes follow him out.
He wanted nothing more than to get in the Impala and take off to search for Sam, but he didn't even know where to start. Rufus was tracking Sam, with Ellen- Dean swallowed sourly. Odds of them sharing anything they found out were nil. Which left Castiel, who given the situation he'd been in when he sent Dean to Ilchester, might not even be an angel anymore.
Dean headed out into the maze of car wrecks.
-
Ten minutes later Dean hadn't come back in yet, but Bobby suspected he'd be out a while. If he was calling that angel of his, Bobby hoped the feathery bastard was still around to answer. The only time he'd met Castiel, he'd ended up unconscious, but if the angel was willing to disobey and risk his own existence to help out the Winchester boys, he couldn't be all bad. Maybe a bit of an idjit, but if that was the case, so was Bobby.
The phone on Bobby's desk rang. He glanced towards the window and picked up the receiver.
"Hello?"
"Hey Bobby. Can we talk?" Ellen's voice was hushed on the phone.
"Can you?"
"Rufus is out of earshot, in the gas station before the highway. Is Dean...?"
"Yeah. He'll be fine. He's-" Castiel's nature and existence wasn't something Bobby had shared with anyone outside of Pamela Barnes. "He's just outside blowin' off steam."
"He's angry."
"Kid's heartbroke." True enough. "Probably feels like me and him are the only ones not out gunning for Sam, and he's not too sure about me either."
"That was hard." Her voice roughened. "It's hard. Haven't seen either of them for years and the first thing I have to do is hurt the poor bastard."
"It's for the best. Dean's right. Rufus wouldn't tell us jack about Sam. If he found out where he was, he'd mount up a lynch mob and go after him."
"I know. The hardest thing is keeping quiet. Sam needs to be found, but we'll figure out a way to do it without starting an all-out assault."
"You keep me posted if Rufus gets on to something."
"Of course." The line fell silent for a second, Bobby could hear traffic passing by. "Will you tell Dean? That I'm on their side?"
"When the time comes, yeah. It had to be done this way. His reaction had to be genuine. If Dean reacted with anything but-"
"Loathing?"
"Wasn't a word I'd've picked, but yeah. If he hadn't acted like you'd betrayed him, Rufus would never buy it, and he'd never trust you enough to let you in. He's a canny old son of a bitch."
"Takes one to beat one."
Bobby smirked. "Damn straight. You watch yourself, Ellen. You get in trouble you holler."
"You take care too, Bobby."
"Don't worry 'bout me. I'm as tough as old boots."
"Still." In the background, Bobby heard a convenience store door chime sound. "Gotta go," Ellen said, and the connection dropped without further comment.
Bobby hung up. Yep. We're wall-to-wall idjits around here.
- ~ -
Dean was wearing a rut in the packed mud of the junkyard. He had shouted for Castiel for hours only days before in this same spot, until he was hoarse, but this time he was worried. The last time Dean had seen him, the angel had disobeyed his (technical) superior and had been facing Chuck's archangel.
Cas isn't exactly the best at combat and he was standing down the biggest weapon Heaven's got. If he- Dean shook his head. "C'mon, Cas, please!"
Between one step and the next, Dean heard the telltale flutter. The shock of relief turned worry into anger. He spun and crossed the empty space in three strides.
"Where the hell have you been?!" shouted Dean, grabbing the angel by the lapels of his trenchcoat.
Castiel said, looking down at Dean's hands gripping his collar before looking back up. "I was ascertaining our immediate situation."
"Um. Hi," said a smallish voice behind Castiel. Dean looked over. Chuck stood in Bobby's junk yard holding a big black garbage bag. He waved his free hand.
"Chuck? What are you doing here?"
"He, um." Chuck gestured vaguely at Castiel. "He brought me along."
"What? Are you crazy, Cas? He's got an Archangel in tow!"
Castiel met Dean's eyes. "No. He doesn't."
"What?"
"The prophesy came to pass, Lucifer rose, and as far as I know, the Archangels have been recalled to the war."
"As far as you know?"
"I- I no longer hear- I..." Castiel looked to the side, lost.
Dean frowned. "You're on Zach's shit list. Cut off from the Angel Network."
"Yes. It is written that when Lucifer rises and Armageddon begins, all who serve will be called to war."
"And you didn't get your draft notice."
"I still serve God." Castiel's chin tipped up, defensive.
Dean let go of Castiel's lapels and looked him up and down. "Did... You're not...?"
"I've disobeyed, but I haven't Fallen." The angel stared down at the mud on his shoes. "I still retain my Grace. I don't know why."
Dean wasn't sure what to think of that.
"So, um. This is Bobby's wrecking yard, right?"
Dean and Castiel turned to look at Chuck. The writer was turning slowly, trash bag over one shoulder, gaping at his surroundings.
"It's just, I've seen it so many times in my head. This reality thing still freaks me out. The smell is very...." Chuck looked around wide-eyed, sniffing. "...very rich. Layered." Chuck rested the black plastic bag on the ground and pulled out a notepad and a pen out of his shirt pocket.
Dean tugged Castiel to one side, away from the scribbling writer. "Cas, why'd you bring him here?"
"His Archangel has been recalled, but Chuck still receives the Word."
Dean looked at Chuck. Chuck glanced back at Dean before his eyes slid sideways to examine a crushed Volvo.
Castiel continued. "He also knows what he's already seen, and what has been written. He's in danger and cannot be left unprotected. His knowledge makes him a most valuable asset to all sides of this war."
"All that stuff's on his computer's hard drive too, and printed out, didja think of that?"
The corner of Castiel's mouth twitched. "Many supernatural entities are capable of emitting an electromagnetic pulse."
Chuck's head snapped up from his notebook. "You? You fried my hard drive? I thought it was the archangel?"
"Perhaps a combined effort," said Castiel neutrally.
"Aw, man! You have no idea how hard I worked on that stuff!"
Castiel stared at Chuck.
"Or, maybe you do. Um."
Castiel turned back to Dean. "We gathered what printed versions could be found, Chuck has them."
Chuck sighed and hoisted the black plastic garbage bag.
"What do you mean, 'What could be found?'" Dean asked.
"Archangels don't land softly."
Chuck rested the bag on the ground again. "My house is a wreck, there's crap everywhere. I was just grabbing everything made of paper and hoping."
"Great. So there might be hundreds of pages floating around loose where the demons can get at them."
Castiel's jaw tightened. "It's not an ideal scenario, but it's better than leaving everything behind."
Great. Angels and demons are after Chuck and he's defenseless. Dean looked around. "Come on, let's get you inside. I think Bobby's got a safe place for you."
Dean followed behind Castiel and Chuck as they walked through the wrecked cars to the house. Chuck could settle into Bobby's panic room. If he was still having visions, they'd find Sam in no time, and Rufus and Ellen could go screw themselves.
The only thing now was where the hell was Sam and what was Lucifer doing with him?
-
In the darkness inside himself, Sam began to hear things.
Screaming, pleading. Chanting. The slightest scent of blood, the vaguest feel of it slicking his fingers. The familiar iron-and-smoke tang.
Then voices.
"...let us play, Lord?"
NO.
"C'mon. Please? Let us at least meet him."
ALRIGHT. BUT NOT FOR LONG.
Sam felt suddenly hurled out into the forefront of his own consciousness.
MEET SOME FRIENDS OF MINE, SAMMY.
Sam staggered, blinking, the light too bright, the air too full of the scent of blood and iron and fire. He stumbled a step back and hit a wall, sliding down a bit. It was raining, rainwater washing blood from his hands and face. He was in an alley, he wasn't sure where, except it was a very old part of some city. Three people stood in front of him.
A fat man, round cheeks rosy with the cold asked, "Is it him?" and licked his lips.
A hollow-chested young man coughed and spat phlegm onto the wet alley pavement. "It is. Look."
A woman in black jeans and a red leather jacket grinned ferally. "Ooo. He looks scared."
Sam straightened against the wall, raising his chin. "I'm not scared."
A voice that seemed oddly familiar, although Sam was certain he'd never heard it before, came from the alley mouth. "You should be."
Sam turned in the direction of the voice to see a tall, gaunt man in a black trenchcoat walking down the alley towards him. The alley lights caught the man's eyes reflecting from the pale blue in a way that made them seem to glow. "No one will intercede for you, now that your purpose has been fulfilled. None except your guest."
Sam blinked rainwater out of his eyes. "Do... Do I know you?
The tall man came close, and the air felt colder. "When you where a very young child, you had pneumonia, worse than anyone realized. I sat with you then."
Sam frowned. "Only Dean and dad were-"
"When you were a much-younger man, a creature snapped three of your ribs, drove them into your lungs. While you healed enough to awaken and flee from me, I taught you how to play Sudoku. When you were at Cold Oak, and a man you turned your back on stabbed you through the spine, I was there. We spent three days together, you and I, watching your brother break so gloriously and sell his soul for you."
With dawning realization, Sam's stomach sank.
The gaunt man continued. "Half a hundred other close calls and near misses over the years, and that odd little hiccup with the lightning last year. We have had some very interesting conversations about the nature of Fate and free will and you have ranted a great deal less about being in my company than your brother always does. Even though neither of you ever remember me, or my children."
Sam breathed out. "You're Death."
The thin man dipped his chin in acknowledgment. "Yessss. And these are-" he turned to point a bony hand. "Pestilence..."
The young man wiped his nose on his sleeve and waved.
"...Famine...."
The fat, bald man bared even white teeth and nodded.
"...And War."
The woman grinned. "Heya, sport."
"The Four Horsemen," Sam whispered.
War snorted. "Horses are so last millennium."
Death waved a hand dismissively. "It's a convenient name. Nothing more."
"But when- How-"
"It's amazing. Once sixty-six seals went down, they all stopped worrying about the rest of the six hundred."
"Bad tactics," murmured War.
"Of those six hundred, ours are merely four. Left unattempted in Lilith's big push, just in case someone succeeded in stopping them from breaking."
"But now, Zachariah and his allies are too busy with other things. Rallying the troops, re-designing uniforms, putting the right spin on the Apocalypse for the masses, so on, so forth..."
"Our four little seals? Done." War snapped her fingers. "Last night. Hardly a struggle."
Death nodded. "'And the creature cried out, and the seal fell.' Dead easy."
Sam stood up, leaning away from the wall and standing straight. "What do you want from me?"
The Four looked at each other, grinning.
"Very different things, I would say," Death said. "They all end unpleasantly for you."
"You attacked our kids after all," said War. "Well, not you, but your allies. Killed a few of them."
"What? Who?"
"Gluttony, Sloth, Greed, they were mine," Famine said.
War's grin sharpened. "Pride and Wrath were mine. Envy's recovering from that exorcism your friend inflicted on him, thanks for asking."
"Lust's mine. My only one, but she... she was the best vector I could hope for." Pestilence messily blew his nose.
"You haven't killed any of mine," said the thin man. "In fact you've set one free and saved another from her involuntary role in opening a seal. I'm just rather pissed that you and your brother keep getting slipped 'get out of Death free' cards. Monumentally frustrating."
"So yeah, we've all got a personal grudge against you."
"Oh yeah?" Sam jerked his chin up defiantly. "Take your best shot."
A chuckle rose from the group. "No," said Famine, "You aren't our meat to play with yet. We just wanted to introduce ourselves, let you know that thanks to you hosting our Lord there, we get to come out and really dig in."
War purred. "It'll be so good to finally cut loose and let these mortals know what I'm really all about. No more of this diplomacy crap."
Pestilence stepped a little closer to Sam, ducking his head. "You've seen some of my work already."
"What?"
"Rivergrove, Oregon?" The young man sniffled and beamed. "That was just the beta-test. I can go global now. Or rather, soon."
"The Croatoan Virus?" Sam asked, memory surfacing.
Pestilence beamed. "You remember my work! That was an upgrade from the original blend. Much more virulent. Blood-to-blood transfer is a pain in the ass, but I think with a bit of tweaking, a few more test scenarios, it can go airborne and then, oh, then-"
"Don't bore him to Death with your technicalities, Pest," War muttered.
Pestilence dropped his eyes and backed away from Sam, wiping his nose.
"Why?" Sam looked between the people in front of him. "Why are you- why are you even telling me all this?"
BECAUSE IT AMUSES ME.
Sam felt himself ripped back from consciousness and returned to the place of nothing.
BECAUSE- The voice modulated down to a tolerable level again, "...because, while I am keeping you trapped in here, it's only fair that I keep you up to date on current events. Give you something to occupy your thoughts with, since your thoughts are all you have."
Sam seethed. So I'll be trapped inside myself and going crazy wondering what the hell they're doing?
"You're a sharp boy, Sammy. Azazel picked very well." Lucifer chuckled. "The Four Horsemen will be loyal lieutenants. They are not underlings who I needed to help me escape. They have not seen me in a state of weakness, and I owe them nothing. Things will be getting interesting now. Briefly and messily interesting, for most people. More than likely your brother too."
Sam roared in fury, "You said he'd live!" The sound of his own voice startled him.
"He's likely to try to get in my way, to get you back, or save the world or some such twaddle. I said I wouldn't kill him. If my underlings develop initiative and decide to take him out..." There was a sense of shrugging.
"You son of a bitch! You can't, you can't do that!" Sam said, his fury feeding his rediscovered voice. "I'll stop you."
"How?" Sam had a feeling, although he had no neck to strangle, he was being choked. "How will you stop me? You were made for me. No exorcism will force me out. Azazel, Ruby, among many other things, they gave you affinity. And that affinity makes me as much a part of you as your own blood."
Sam felt his body again for a second, and something like cold greasy fire chasing through his veins.
"Like the roots of a tree. I'll not be uprooted."
"Dean'll find you," said Sam with certainty. "Dean'll stop you."
"Dean, now he's a useful thing. Something I can use to torment you with. Even though you know how he really feels from that message he left."
Dean's words snapped through Sam again and he lost his new-found voice. Blood-sucking freak. Monster. There's no going back.
"I hear it echoing in your memory. He vowed to kill you. Just before I arrived, you were standing there, apologizing and waiting for him to kill you... You wouldn't have resisted, would you?"
Sam didn't answer.
The voice laughed again. "He wants to kill you and yet you want him kept alive. You have no sense of self-preservation. Not when it comes to Dean. This is what makes him useful. He keeps you in line and he's a source of entertainment in one convenient package. If he becomes a problem, though, he will be dealt with."
Lucifer left, leaving Sam in his own echoing darkness.
It didn't matter what Dean thought of Sam, or if he wanted Sam dead. He just had to live. But something Lucifer had said niggled at Sam.
He said Dean keeps me in line. Why would Lucifer need to keep me in line, unless I... I had a voice. If I can get back my voice... There's some way I can break his control.
I can fight him.
Sam tucked the thought away, and settled down to quietly testing his limits. There was a way to fight back, and Sam would find it.
- - -
(that's all. sorry)
Post A/N: Sorry to leave it there, but I did say open-ended. I really wish I'd started this much earlier in the hiatus, but it couldn't be helped. And, as I said above, there might be another part with more closure, or maybe just a point-form summary of where things would have gone from here. But until that unlikely day, this is as done as it gets, and you can assume that in the end, Sam and Dean won and drove off into the sunset in the Impala. Or something.
NO SPOILERS FOR UNAIRED EPISODES IN COMMENTS PLEASE.