Fic: Monstrosity Divine - Chapter 9
The angels moved from place to place, staying mostly in hotels, though there were a few old hideouts that Lucifer recalled from the year with the war. Castiel referred to that time as the Apocalypse. Lucifer didn’t; he just pressed his lips into a thin line and said that it was something no longer worth discussing. They carried very little: the handful of promising research notes on tracking the Leviathan and Castiel’s small bag of accumulated clothing. He kept waiting for his grace to come back and trying to adapt to not having powers, not having wings. Neither one happened. When he became exceedingly morose, Lucifer would bring him books. At first, he brought back folklore and fairy tales, almost as if he were attempting to pass such off as reading material that might be helpful to researching, but he eventually gave up that charade in favor of poetry. The poems seemed to relax Castiel, helping him sleep. He would curl up near the center of the bed and balance the book beside him, reading quietly for the better part of an hour before his breathing would become slow and even and the book would topple from its perch. Lucifer went through the same routine every night, picking the book up from the bed or, occasionally, the floor, marking the page, and setting it aside on the table before covering Castiel with a blanket. He often went out at night, leaving Castiel to sleep. He sat in restaurants and all night diners, eyes scanning the staff for some hint as to who the monsters were hiding inside, but the Leviathan knew his face now, and they were resolved to hide from him.
Castiel struggled. Some days, eating was hard. Sleeping was harder. The books helped him get to sleep by simply driving his fatigue to a certain level, but they did nothing to help him stay asleep. Vivid nightmares clawed at the inside of his mind, and he woke frequently, often before he could get into a deep enough sleep to constitute any rest. Generally, he woke to the soft sound of turning pages or the occasional humming of old Enochian hymns and was able to fall back asleep, but when he woke alone to nothing but the darkness and the silence, he was back underneath the water, subjugated within his own body again, insides swelling with blackness. He’d cry sometimes, turning over to hide his face in his pillow to avoid it ever being seen, but it only got worse. The Leviathan were coming for him. He knew it.
There was a sense of finality to the sound of the lock clicking and the presence of someone else in the room. Castiel had been awake for an hour, and that was after having slept only an hour or so a night for the past four days. Death or sleep, he no longer cared. He just wanted it to be over. He just wanted it to be quiet.
“I thought you were gone,” he whispered.
“I was looking for them. I thought you would sleep through my absence.”
“I never do anymore. They’re going to come for me when you’re not looking. I know it.”
“I won’t leave again while you’re sleeping. You look exhausted, and it’s two in the morning, so-”
Castiel shook his head. “I can’t. I’ve been trying, and I can’t anymore. Every time I close my eyes, I see them and I hear them louder than ever. I can taste the blood, your blood, in my mouth. I feel them moving around inside me, and I can’t… I just can’t.” He drew in a deep breath and let it out as a slow, shaky sigh. “How can something so simple be so difficult? Leave it to me to mess up sleeping. I’m just… I’m so scared all the time.”
Lucifer sat down on the edge of the bed, staring across at the opposite wall. “I don’t blame you, not for being scared and not for anything else either, but you do need to sleep. I’ll be right here. I promise.”
“How will I know that? The second I close my eyes, they’re everywhere, and I can’t-”
It was different than before. The pressure against Castiel’s back was light and cool, and the way Lucifer’s arm went around his waist to hold him felt oddly secure. It took a moment to accommodate himself with the sensation, and he could tell from the way Lucifer’s muscles relaxed out of rigidity one by one behind him that his brother was going through a similar process.
“Do you want me to move?”
“No. I just didn’t expect it.”
“Preconceived notions can be problematic like that.”
Castiel smiled. “I dreamed something like this once, but it was all wrong. You weren’t you. You were me, and I was them, and they tried to-”
“I’m me, Castiel,” Lucifer whispered. His grace seemed to glow and expand around him, enveloping Castiel in the familiar feeling of angelic energy. “I’m here, little brother. Go to sleep.”
Castiel already had.
Lucifer didn’t sleep. He had no need after healing himself completely, but he did let his mind settle into a state of relaxation, picking through the various bits of information he had found and trying to decompress everything. Castiel’s body was warm against him, and it was closer than he’d ever been to anyone in nearly as long as he could remember. The peacefulness was enough to lure his mind into a state of blissful silence, making the sudden voice in his head so resounding and clear that it nearly startled him.
Lucifer… You need borax.
He opened his eyes, face drawing in confusion. Borax? He thought to grab the phone, but the way Castiel was bundled up against him, curled tight and limbs tangled, made moving at all difficult.
Sorry. Sodium borate. It’s a… I’m sure you know what it is. It burns them. It doesn’t kill them, but it’s something. We have one chained up in Bobby’s basement, so… I just thought I would let you know that. You can get it almost anywhere and maybe give some to Cas so he feels safer? You’ll figure it out.
“…Lucifer?”
“What?”
“I said are you alright?”
“I’m fine.”
“You looked dazed…”
“Sam was…” Lucifer gestured vaguely to the side of his head. “He said something about sodium borate being effective. Does that sound familiar at all to you?”
“No. I’m sorry. Most of what I heard was just noise, and now it’s just… strange.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s not really like remembering. It’s like I can hear them talking sometimes, like I’m-”
“Tapped into their wavelength.”
Castiel’s eyes went wide with horror. “I’m just… dreaming though, right? I mean, you don’t think…?”
“You were on their communication level for a while. Maybe you never properly went off.”
“D-do you think they know?”
‘Have they said anything about you?”
“I’ve been trying not to listen. I thought I was imagining it.”
“I know. I hate to even have to ask this of you, but if it can give us an advantage, we need it.”
Castiel breathed out slowly and closed his eyes. “I hear names. Edgar, Marilyn, Dick- Dick seems to be important. They’re all talking about him. There’s something about land surveying and Dick being upset about the hyper-aggression caused by the serum. Dick is going to ‘bib’ someone…? I’m sorry. I can’t make much of it out.”
“Don’t worry. You did very well.” Lucifer jotted the notes down on the pad by the bed, reaching over to pat Castiel’s shoulder in reassurance.
The struggle to connect the new information became all-encompassing. Whoever Edgar, Marilyn, and Dick were, they were key players in the Leviathan plot to take over the Earth. The problem was that all three names were fairly common, and without a surname to trace them with, it left a lot of people to sort through. None of the missing people had those names, not that Lucifer could see, but this sort of information hunting was not his particular area of expertise. He knew the answer was in front of him, and yet he couldn’t see it. His frustration mounted.
The switch flipped all at once in one day. He was sitting at the table in a new hotel room piecing together a series of articles on a company called Roman Enterprises having bought out an immense amount of diners and fast food establishments despite the fact that the corporation had primarily funded various real estate developments up until fairly recently. Castiel came to sit beside him, stirring honey into a cup of tea and watching him with calm, evaluative eyes, waiting patiently until Lucifer looked up to acknowledge him.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what? Looking for Leviathan?”
“Start with that.”
“They tried to eat me.”
“That’s fair. And the rest?”
“What’s the rest?”
Castiel leaned back in his chair, gesturing towards the room, the bag of clothes on the bed, and then the cup of tea on the table before him. “This, being here… me.”
“I’ve told you. We’re family.”
“We were family before, and…”
Lucifer folded his arms across his chest and sat back, eyes moving over Castiel’s face and then sharply away to the side. “You’re different.”
“Because I rebelled?”
“Among other things, yes. Even back then, watching you defy everything and fight so hard for what you believed in, watching how willing you were to sacrifice and bleed and die for what you thought was right and then seeing it crumble and slip through your fingertips… I suppose I can relate.”
A tiny hint of a smile pulled at Castiel’s lips, but he hid it by ducking his head down and staring into his cup. “Yes. I suppose you can.”
Lucifer leaned quickly forward, busying himself with another newspaper article. “Or maybe I just like you,” he muttered.
Castiel glanced up to look at him, studying his posture and his sudden refusal to make eye contact. “Do you like tea?”
“I’ve never had it.”
“Would you like to try it?”
“I’d love to try it. Thank you.”
There was no hiding the smile the second time around. Castiel turned away, touching Lucifer’s shoulder as he went. He heated the water in a coffee pot and choose a mild, fruity blend that turned the water a warm, ruddy color. He was halfway across the room to deliver it when he froze up. His hands shook, and the cup slipped from his fingers, shattering on the floor and splashing hot tea up across his ankles.
Lucifer had him by the shoulders. “Castiel? Castiel, what’s wrong?”
“Angels… They’re talking about angels.”
“What about angels?”
“They have them… Two of our brothers.”
“Who? Where?”
“I don’t know. They’re just saying… h-how much more delicious angels are than humans.” Castiel covered his face with his hands, stumbling forward into Lucifer’s arms where he was pulled close and held tight.
“I’m going to kill them. I promise.”
“There’s something else.”
“What is it?”
“They’re saying something about a meeting… Dick is going to be at the SucroCorp office in Chicago on Thursday.”
Lucifer nodded solemnly, reaching to cup Castiel’s face in his hands. “And I’m going to kill him.”
They spent the rest of the evening formulating a plan. Once they had the name SucroCorp, everything fell into place. They turned over pages of information on Richard Roman Enterprises, a corporation owned by Richard “Dick” Roman which had been primarily a real estate company until fairly recently. Almost overnight, the charismatic entrepreneur had started buying up fast food restaurants and 24-hour diners. The company’s purchase of SucroCorp would allow their reach to extend to every food source that utilized corn syrup in its manufacturing. Everything from baked goods to snacks and sodas had the potential to be laced with the Leviathan’s mysterious serum within a matter of weeks, maybe sooner. Thursday seemed far off, but it came quickly.
Lucifer sat on the bed on Wednesday night, turning the receiver over in his hands for at least ten minutes before he worked the nerve to dial out. The blocked calls were less alarming now, almost expected.
“Hello,” Sam answered.
“Hi, Sam… I wanted to call and thank you for the information on the cleaning product and its effectiveness against the Leviathan.”
“Sure. No problem. I’m glad we could help. How’s Cas?”
“Asleep.”
“Asleep? Then he’s…? I’m sorry. We didn’t know.”
“Thank you. I figured as much. I wanted to tell you something else.”
“Okay?”
“I’ve found the leader of the Leviathan, and I’m going to kill him in the morning. They operate as a sort of hive mind, so once he is eliminated, the others will become inconsequential.”
“Whoa, wait, you found them?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Wow. So where are they? We’ll come help-”
“No. I don’t want your help with this. I don’t want you involved at all.”
“Lucifer, you said these things were older than you. You said-”
“I know what I said, Sam. I’ll handle it.”
Neither of them spoke for a few moments. There was just the light hum of the phone connection between them.
“I guess there’s no changing your mind then.”
“No. I didn’t call to ask you anything. I just wanted to tell you.”
“Right. I understand. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Lucifer started to put the phone down, but he stopped, lifting it back to his ear quickly. “Sam?”
“Yeah?”
“One more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“What happened at the cemetery and then… the Cage, everything you think I did, that I… I didn’t. I wouldn’t, not to you, not ever. I know you won’t believe me, but I wanted to say it just the same.”
Sam didn’t reply. The dead silence made Lucifer wonder if the phone line was even connected at all.
“…I hope you have a happy life, Sam. I always hoped that.” He hung up the phone.
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