Wire In A Fire, Chapter One
Title: Wire In A Fire
Characters: Dean, Sam, Bobby, Jo, Castiel, Eli (OC)
Chapters: 1/8
Rating: T, for language, misery, zombies, Sarah Palin bashing, and the end of the world
Spoilers: Canon: Thru the end of season 5. Fandom: This is part of my It's The End ''verse, with spoilers thru the end of Of The World.
Summary: Once upon a time, everything good in the world fell apart. In the fight for survival, everyone changes, everyone is betrayed, and in the end, everyone loses.
Link to the Master Chapter Post
Chapter 1: It Starts With An Earthquake
Waking up at the start of the end of the world,
But it's feeling just like every other morning before,
Now I wonder what my life is going to mean if it's gone
Eli should have known they were fucked when the demon Crowley was killed.
The attempt at Carthage had been a disaster. Ellen died protecting her daughter, and Dean had been discovered before he could get within shooting distance of the devil. It was only with some quick action by Castiel that they had escaped at all, and now the Colt was with Lucifer, and the demon who had supplied them with it was dead.
Dean still refused to call Sam. He insisted that things would not have gone any differently with him there. "The only thing that would have happened is that Lucifer would have his vessel right now," Dean said gruffly, shooting whiskey like it was water as Jo sobbed quietly on the couch in the next room. "Trust me, we're better off without him here. He would have walked right into Lucifer's hands."
Dean may not have been speaking to his brother, but Eli was. They spoke nearly every night, quietly in the dark outside of Bobby's house where no one could hear them.
"Ellen is dead?" his voice said, cracking a little. Eli nodded into the phone.
"Yeah. A hell hound ripped into her. Jo's pretty broken up about it…obviously." She paused. "Things are shit, Sam. We need you here. Dean too, though he doesn't realize it yet. Please come back."
"You know what Dean said."
"Yeah, well Dean is not the boss of us!" she snapped. "This feels wrong, Sam, really wrong."
"I know. But I can't, Eli, not if Dean won't have me. Give him time. Maybe he'll come around. He's still refusing to speak to me?"
"Or about you, or anything having to do with your existence or location." Eli sighed, starting to pace, her footsteps stirring the dusty ground at her feet. "I don't know if he's gonna come around, Sam."
"He will. We're brothers."
"I hope to God you're right."
The months rolled on. Jo traveled occasionally with Dean, Eli, and Castiel, but there was something shadowed and broken in her eyes, and more often than not she stayed with Bobby. The four of them were able, barely, to wrest away Famine's ring, but Pestilence was too quick, vanishing into the night with his power and his secrets.
It was right around the time of the presidential elections that he struck, but not in America. The Croatoan virus was pumped first into Great Britain, causing a panic that eventually sealed off the island to outsiders. The same happened to Australia, New Zealand, the Philippines, Japan. People started calling it "The Island Virus."
"Listen to that shit," Bobby said grumpily one night as they kicked back at his house, drinking whiskey and staring moodily at the TV. "The Island Virus, can you believe that crap? Like it can't spread around. All it is is Pestilence winding us up, getting us to turn on each other, knock us down one by one. It'll hit us soon, mark my words."
"He's having fun with it," Eli said softly, watching Sarah Palin give a rousing speech about the need to secure their borders against any and all immigrants. She was even hinting that the best thing to do would be to kick existing immigrants out of the country, so as not to take supplies away from 'good, hardworking Americans.' "He's laughing at us."
"Thing to do now is start hoarding supplies," Dean said, pouring himself another shot with unsteady hands. His voice was gruff but surprisingly clear. "Load up on anything we can't live without."
"Unfortunately I think that the rest of America has the same idea," Castiel pointed out wearily. "Raids have begun on the grocery stores. People are panicking." He was sitting next to Eli on the couch, one arm wrapped loosely around her shoulders. Her legs were propped up on the table, and Jo's head was in her lap. The younger blonde's eyes were closed, apparently sleeping, as Eli idly stroked her hair.
"Yeah, panicking so much they're gonna elect a psycho for president," Dean said, jerking his head roughly to the television screen. "Listen to her. Instead of keeping the peace she's stoking the fire." He shook his head. "Pushing for a US-Canada border wall. It's ridiculous."
"And the homicide rate of immigrants is up crazy high," Eli said, moving her hand from Jo's hair to accept a shot glass from Dean. "Her hate-talk is causing riots and lynchings."
"Just wait," Jo said quietly, startling them all as she opened her eyes to reveal that she had been awake the whole time. Her voice sounded strange, almost dead. "It's going to get much, much worse."
It was worse than any of them could ever have imagined.
America was struck last. Russia, Europe, and most of Asia were crawling with Croats when Palin swore in as President, and the first cases started popping up in US cities only weeks later. Whole states became hot zones, sealed off: New Jersey, D.C., most of Florida, New York, and Arizona. The right to group assembly was repealed, as was the right to free movement. Border crossings sprung up on state lines and city limits. Anyone even suspected of being infected was shot. Every citizen was armed; rioting, burning, and looting became the only way to survive as the entire system of commerce slowly shut down. Martial law was enacted, with Palin as a figurehead, her face plastered over any surface that was left standing and not marred by the continuous Croatoan graffiti.
As all of this was happening, earthquakes rocked the major fault-lines, causing tsunamis and leveling cities. Most of California sank into the ocean. The weather systems became vicious; one storm alone knocked Chicago off the map. Suicides jumped to an all-time high as humanity decided they just couldn't take it anymore.
Bobby's house had become a fortress. They set up a fence around the perimeter with barbed wire. Eli and Castiel used whatever power they could to protect them: hiding sigils, binding traps, spells to alert them to intruders. They stockpiled gunpowder, guns, knives, canned food, water, toilet paper, blankets, matches, anything they could think of to stay alive. It was no use fighting the Croats; they were everywhere. The best thing to do was wait, shoot whatever came near them, and save as many innocents as they could.
"You guys are taking in refugees now?" Sam's voice asked incredulously over the phone one night.
Eli plugged one ear to keep out the sound of a wailing baby and pressed the other closer to her head. "Well, what do you expect us to do, turn them out for the Croats to get?" she snapped. "They're coming in droves now; word of our little sanctuary has spread, as has the knowledge that we have a man who can heal minor injuries by laying his hands on them. It's a madhouse. Where are you?"
"And what about finding the Colt?" Sam asked, ignoring her question. She sighed, moving away from the people huddled in the yard full of cars and into the moonlit night.
"We've been trying." She paused. "A little too hard."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"We caught wind of a demon who used to run with Lilith a few towns over," she said wearily, sitting down in the dirt and holding her head in her hand. "Caught him in a devil's trap. Dean…got the information out of him. Or tried. He knew very little."
"Torture?" Sam asked softly. "Shit, Eli."
"We need you, Sam," she said, starting to tear up. "It's…it's hell here. Please come back. Help us."
"It's too late, Eli, you know it is," he said in a grim voice. She shook her head fiercely, despite the fact that he couldn't see her.
"It's never too late."
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Finally he said, in a very small voice: "Maybe I can stop this."
Eli sat up a little straighter. "What the hell are you talking about, Sam?"
"I…I know this is gonna sound crazy, but I had a meeting. With Death."
"Death the Horseman? With a capital D?" she breathed incredulously. "Shut up."
"Yeah. He, uh, he did me a favor. Lucifer has him tethered, but he was able to, uh, borrow the ring from Pestilence, and he gave me his. He said that with all four I might be able to put Lucifer back in the pit."
"What?" she asked, standing unsteadily and brushing dirt from her jeans. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Bring me the last two rings and I'll tell you everything."
"Where are you?" she demanded. He sighed over the line.
"Detroit. 466 Maple street, apartment 3B. Have Cas zap you over here with the rings." When she hesitated, he implored: "Please, Eli. This is our last shot."
She nodded. "Fine. Be there in ten."
"Thanks."
"Don't thank me yet," she muttered darkly, hanging up, then headed into the house to find Castiel.
He was upstairs, looking at himself critically in the mirror. When she entered he turned to face her, his normally stoic face wrinkled in confusion. "Dean gave me these to wear," he said, tugging self-consciously at his army-fatigue cargo pants and loose-fitting shirt. "I don't understand what was wrong with my usual clothing. I understand that occasionally trench coats are not optimal for hand-to-hand combat, but…" He trailed off, noticing the wild look in Eli's eyes. "What is it?"
"Put on your shoes," she said, indicating the pair of combat boots sitting unlaced by the bed. "We're going on a trip."
The first thing Eli did the moment they appeared in the room was pull Sam into a hug so tight it was like a death grip.
"Eli," he croaked, patting her back awkwardly. "Air, please…"
"I'm just so happy to see your stupid face, you giant freak," she muttered into his shirt before finally pulling away.
"Good to see you too, Eli," he said wearily, rubbing his ribs. He glanced to the other side of the room. "Cas. Thanks for coming. Nice look, by the way."
"It is … good to see you, Sam," Castiel said delicately, standing a few yards away and fixing Sam with his usual scrutinizing look. "You know that I have never agreed with Dean's banishment of you."
"Yeah, I know, it's okay," Sam said, running an anxious hand through his hair. He glanced around the room almost nervously, and Eli followed his eyes, noting for the first time how dilapidated it was, boarded-up windows and cracks in the walls, the bed nothing more than an ancient cot. Sam himself looked like he hadn't showered in weeks, and smelled the same; his clothing was ripped, his hair a little too long, his face thin and shadowed by the first traces of a beard. He turned back to Eli. "Do you have them?"
She pulled two rings from her pocket. "When he notices they're gone, there will be hell to pay," she warned, tipping them into his hand. He stared at them for a long moment, his face pensive.
"Hopefully by then all of this will be over." He reached into his pocket for the last two rings. When they were all together in his hand they fused, like attached by magnets. Eli raised her eyebrows.
"So…what's the plan?"
"These rings will open the door to Lucifer's cage," Sam said quietly, clenching his hand around them. Eli noticed that his whole body was shaking, like he was strung out. "All we need to do is get him back in."
"Great idea," Eli said sarcastically. Castiel just hovered in the background, listening, his gaze carefully blank. "And how exactly do you plan on doing that?"
Sam looked up at her, his jaw clenched. "I'm going to say yes to Lucifer."
There was a long pause. Then Eli crossed her arms and said, with an exasperated sigh: "Your sense of humor really blows, Sam."
"I'm not joking," he said. "Death told me what to do. If I say yes to Lucifer and can maintain control of my body for just a few seconds, I can throw us both in that hole. It's the only way."
"You stupid son of a…" she started, surging forward, but Castiel caught her arm.
"He has a point, Eli," he rasped, and she swung on him.
"Don't tell me you're actually agreeing to this stupid plan!"
"What other choice do we have?" he asked hotly, breaking his calm façade. "In case you haven't noticed, the world has already gone to hell. I've heard the whispers, I know you have too: even the angels are thinking of giving up. Dean won't say yes. We have no plan. This could be…"
"He could destroy the world," Eli snapped. Castiel put a hand on her shoulder and stared into her eyes, his gaze somber.
"Look around you, Eli," he said quietly. "The world is already destroyed. Let Sam do this."
"I can do it," Sam said with false confidence, and they turned back to him. He looked so weak standing there, so thin and frail and haunted and lost. Eli blinked back hot tears and shook her head fiercely, coming up to hug him once more, her face buried in his dirty shirt.
"No, you can't. But what other choice have we got?" She pulled away and cupped his face in her hand, then on impulse stretched on her toes and briefly kissed his lips. "Fight him, Sam. Don't let this all be a mistake."
"I promise," he said, hands on her shoulders. "I won't give up."
He lied.
On to Chapter 2