Western Rising, 17/19.
Bright light beyond her eyelids.
Lilith tried to open her mouth, but her lips were stuck together, the taste of ash and bile on her tongue. She was lying on her back and the surface was broken. She cracked her eyes open, then shut them again as the light set off a cacophony in her head. Her lips came apart and she licked them. One by one, she tested all of her limbs. They were still attached. She ached, but nothing seemed to be broken or gushing blood. Preparing herself this time, she opened her eyes again.
She was lying on a piece of the fence , now flattened, that had surrounded the base. She must have been flung back against her. Above her was sky, and before her -
- She sat up. It hurt, but she didn’t have time to think better of it. A quarter of the base was gone, blown away, the structure open and gaping. Ragged edges of ceiling and struts were coming down around it. The blown-out area was littered with brick, rubble, bodies - pieces of bodies. The rest of the base was silent.
She stood, painfully, patted herself down. She seemed to have nothing worse than bruises, and a multitude of small cuts and burns. The ends of her hair were singed off. She limped towards the ruins. she kicked a hand, still attached to most of a wrist, from her path.
“Hello?” she called. No answer. Up close, the smell of charred flesh made her gag a little. Her eyes widened as they fell on a form, bent over and badly burned, but still recognizable…even if Lilith couldn’t tell, the commander’s stripes on the remaining sleeve would have told her.
Eve was dead.
“Anyone else alive?” she called. She picked her way through the rubble and came to the part of the base still standing, covering her face with her sleeve against the smell of smoke. The rest of the base was deserted - several more bodies, though not enough to account for the full contingent posted. The rest must have returned to HQ, or fled in fear of punishment. She checked the cells, pointlessly. Empty. But. She could sense him - his residue. It wasn’t a scent - or a sound - but she knew he had been there. She closed her eyes, and she knew which direction he’d left in.
She would not get another chance, that much was certain. If she returned to Headquarters, all she would get was a swift, brutal execution. She unholstered her gun, weighing it in the palm of her hand.
“Nick,” she said, “Shall I join you now?”
No. He wouldn’t want that. If she finished it right here, all that work - all the effort of drugging herself, training herself up - it was wasted. Nick hated inefficiency. Sam said he hadn’t killed Nick, but his life had still led to Nick’s death, and he’d ruined her. Therefore she would kill him. She had to find him first, but already, somehow, she knew that wouldn’t be a problem. She knew which way he’d gone, and now long-term survival wasn’t an immediate worry, she could dose herself with as much of the formula as she wanted. She got up and hurried to her quarters, which were still intact. In a lock box under her bunk was the syringe and several canisters of formula. She paused, calculating, then unscrewed a cap, drew three times a normal dose into the barrel. Her arms were scarred and her veins shrunken from months of constant jabbing, but it only took her a couple of minutes to force a vein to the surface.
The rush.
A familiar feeling, ten times the intensity. Her vision sharpened, and she could hear the sounds of the desert beyond the base. The smell of ash, mixed with blood, seemed to separate into individual elements. Energy coursed through her.
“C-Commander?”
She turned around abruptly. A young grunt - Parker, Pearson - was hunched in the doorway, white-face, uniform splattered with blood and clutching his gun with both hands.
“I’m not your commander,” Lilith reminded him calmly.
“Where is - what should - …” the boy shifted from foot to foot.
“Shut up.” She closed her eyes and summoned it. It was ridiculously easy. And she knew - part by image and part sound and the rest no sense, just knowledge - “I’m going to Fort Delta.” One of Nick’s old strongholds. It figured that this would end there.
“But that - it’s deserted. There’s no-one there.”
“Sam is there,” Lilith said. “The Weapon. I’m going to kill him. Are you coming?”
“I - I should go back to Headquarters….”
“Do you want me to kill you?” It was a serious question. “I’ll make it quick.”
“No. They won’t - what do you think they’ll do to me?”
Lilith shrugged. The boy quailed, paused, then turned and ran. After a moment, more survivors, started turning up out of the woodwork. Most had been loyal to her, and pretty soon, she had an army of eight grunts. There were more Ghosts than that at the base, but her side had machine guns, body armour and semi-automatics: theirs had whatever mishmash they had scavenged. Lilith holstered her gun, picked up her bag, threw the kit a few things inside, and headed outside to a vehicle. She knew she was following him, for now, and trusted that her abilities wouldn’t fail her.
* * *
“Oh God,” Sam gagged. The vision was intense, stronger than anything he’d had for years. He sank to his knees, and knew the Ghosts around him were parting, murmuring.
“Sam?” It wasn’t Dean. Dean was outside. Cas was touching him. Hand on his shoulder. “What is happening?”
The woman, shrunken and bloodied, held him pinned to the wall. She laughed, bloody teeth, and he couldn’t live through this kind of pain -
- Waves crashed beyond the walls .
“She’s coming,” he choked, as the vision subsided.
“Who?” Cas looked genuinely worried.
“Alright, stand aside, coming through,” Dean shoved a few people out of the way to kneel next to Sam. “What’s going on?”
“Lilith is coming here. Now.” Sam shook his head to clear it.
“Are you sure?”
Sam glared at him.
“Alright, so - we’ll get you away from here. Take a road trip,” Dean made to pull Sam to his feet. “No,” Sam said.
“Excuse me?”
“She wants me,” Sam said. “She’s not going to stop persecuting us until I face her.”
“Well we’ll wait outside for her and shoot her!” Dean objected.
“She could have backup,” Sam argued: “They have good weapons. And I don’t know what she can do with her abilities. Forget it - I’m not abandoning you all to die here.”
Pause. Then,
“Sam is right,” Castiel said. “Lilith will not rest until he or she is dead.”
Dean glared at them both for a long moment. Then,
“Alright,” he said evenly. “Showdown. Cas, go and arm the Ghosts.” Cas nodded and left them.
“You shouldn’t order him about like that,” Sam said mildly.
“Oh come on, he likes it,” Dean said crossly. “You should’ve seen him before I started.”
Sam sighed and went to help.
* * *
Harold Patton, Resistance serial number YB2934, quailed before the Revolutionary Council.
“And she said….she was going to Fort Delta,” he stammered. “To kill him.”
“Doctor, your professional opinion?” Commander Roman turned to Regis, his smooth good-cheer never wavering.
“She’s - a liability,” Regis licked his lips. “It’s hard to say what she’s capable of now - or- what she
wants.”
“Fort Delta - the solution presents itself,” Alistair smiled nastily: “To kill two birds with one stone. It won't be in any state to withstand the flooding."
“Is the remote dam still in operation?” Roman addressed Azazel.
“Sure is,” Azazel grinned.
“Fan-tastic! Proposal: flood the delta, dispense with Lilith and that boy with the powers at the same time. Dissent?” There was silence. “Alright,” Roman clapped his hands. “Good job everyone. Meg, be a star and dispense with our irresponsible friend here,” he nodded to Regis.
The blonde Lieutenant at Roman’s back said,
“Yes sir,” with perhaps a little too much relish, slipped out from behind the large table and popped up behind Regis. She slit his throat before the terrified man could so much as protest.
“Oh - really…” Roman wrinkled his nose. “Did you have to do it so messily?”
Azazel just chuckled and winked at Meg, who returned his smile. Roman pressed a button on his com unit and requested a cleanup.
“Question,” spoke up Azazel: “How do we know when to lift the dam. Too soon and we miss her.”
“Interesting problem,” mused Roman. “You feel up to an away mission, my friend?”
“Always,” Azazel grinned.
“Then take a copter and scout out the delta. When Lilith’s people enter, give the signal.” At last, Roman turned his wolfish grin on the grunt. Patton almost vomited with terror. “Dismissed, soldier,” Roman said brightly. Patton saluted and bolted from the room.
* * *
Dean and Cas stood at the front of the fort with two of the Ghosts, armed with their best weapons. They’d built a hasty barricade out of rocks. It wouldn’t last, but it would give them something to crouch behind when the shooting started.
Becky and Charlie flitted from room to room, checking the Ghosts were as armed as they could be.
Tia and Dylan guarded the vehicles.
Everyone else was stationed around the fort as strategically as possibly, except for the children, who were barricaded in one of the basement rooms with a couple of door guards.
“I want to be out front,” Sam argued. “It’s me she wants.”
“And if she gets you,” Becky pointed out, “What do you think will happen to this place? Face it Sam, you’re their best hope, whether you like it or not. Don’t you think they deserve you to try to live up to that?”
“I didn’t go to all that trouble just to get you killed,” was all Dean would say on the matter. In the end the best he could do was compromise: Sam remained on the lower level, but inside, behind the protection of the walls. It was only when everyone was in position that he remembered - he’d forgotten to tell Dean about the water. The sea in his vision. Well, he reasoned, it couldn’t be important - clearly that part of the vision was wrong. They weren’t right on the shore or anything.
* * *
“Seven outside,” Lilith lowered the field binoculars. “Move in.”
“They’ll see us,” said one of her grunts nervously: “There’s no cover.”
“And we’ll shoot them faster than they can shoot us,” said Lilith sharply. “Move in.”
* * *
“Resistance, two o clock,” said Castiel, just as the first spray of bullets rained down around the fort.
“Return fire!” Dean yelled as they came up out of their crouches - two people carriers were visible, and one of the Ghosts got a lucky shot in that blew out a tire, sending one van careering crazily before toppling sideways. Troops spilled out, still firing, and one of the Ghosts to the left of Cas screamed as a bullet ripped into him. Dean managed to kill the first man that entered the delta, and behind him was Lilith. Dean hesitated a split second, and fire tore past the back of his hand, stripping a line of flesh from his lower arm. He barely felt it. Resistance troops were piling out of the second vehicle now, following their leader -
- Something shook the ground around them. A terrible rumble.
Everyone paused, even Lilith, Dean saw her glance around for an instant, unsure -
“Get back in the fort!” Dean screamed, as the first wave crashed into the delta, water pouring in after it - several of Lilith’s troops, and several of their own, were instantly swept away in the gushing flood. Lilith herself moved unnaturally fast, flinging herself on Dean - her shot her, and the bullet pierced her, remained lodged in her body but didn’t even slow her down. She was on top of him as they fell back together into the fort, Cas bolting the door behind them - water streamed in through the crack. Lilith turned her head, raised a hand, and Cas was flung backwards against the door and pinned, gun dropping uselessly from his hand. The Ghosts who had made it inside fired or ran - but one of Lilith’s grunts had made it in with a machine gun. Water splashed over Dean’s face and he spluttered, but it also caused Lilith to release him. She jerked up, eyes bloodshot and practically smelling the air, then bolted with that unnatural speed through the corridors.
* * *
“The struts gonna collapse!” yelled Charlie. Water was crashing in now from every crack in the fortifications.
“Go higher!” called Sam, heading for the steps himself, his vision of the high stone room in the back of his mind but seeing no alternative.
* * *
Still stunned, Dean lay on his back, gasping, and water flooded his mouth. Cas grabbed his arm and pulled him up. They pursued Lilith down the corridor, saw her disappear up a staircase. They were about to follow, but she turned around, hand extended, and the stairs collapsed behind her.
“Fuck!” Dean yelled.
“Breach!” screamed somebody from the next room, and cold water was suddenly flooding faster, pumping to waist height.
* * *
Lilith and Sam met in the high stone room. He had Ghosts running after him, but she raised a hand and slammed the door on them, locking it from the inside.
“Samuel-“ she began.
“Yeah yeah yeah. How about we skip the monologue and just do this?”
“Fine,” she bit off, raised her hand again, and the force that came off her was like nothing he’d ever felt. Like a wall being slammed into him, like a sandstorm, there was stone against his back before he even knew what was happening. For the first time, real fear coursed through him. She was stronger than he was. He couldn’t touch her. No - he could touch her - he expended as much as he could, pushing back against her, and her grip on him lessened but didn’t give -
- Then she smirked through bloodied teeth, just as in his vision, and he was pinned flat again against the wall. Lilith twisted her hand. And he felt it in his body - he was tearing apart, inside out, and his heart beat, beat, beat, ready to burst - veins were pulsing in Lilith’s forehead, and yes she was probably going to kill herself, but she was killing him too, just as she’d wanted.
Water groaned and smashed beneath the floor.
Part Eighteen