Lift Your Head Weary Sinner

65- We always get the short end of the celestial stick. (Part 2)

***Chuck's POV***

The prophet sat, typing away at his computer, what would be the last Supernatural book, the only light in the room coming from the glow of his computer screen and the lights on the monitor.

"The Impala, of course, has all the things other cars have... and a few things they don't. But none of that stuff's important. This is the stuff that's important. The army man that Sam crammed in the ashtray – it's still stuck there. The Legos that Dean shoved into the vents – to this day, heat comes on and they can hear 'em rattle. The crayons Y/N wedged in a niche of the trunk -- they haven't moved an inch despite the crashes the Impala has been in, and the river bed roads it has traversed. These are the things that make the car theirs – really theirs. Even when Dean rebuilt her from the ground up, he made sure all these little things stayed, 'cause it's the blemishes that make her beautiful. The Devil doesn't know or care what kind of car the boys drive."

---

Lucifer breathes on the window he had been standing by, drawing a pitchfork in the condensation. "Sorry if it's a bit chilly. Most people think I burn hot. It's actually quite the opposite."

"Well, I'll alert the media." Dean said with as much sarcasm as he could muster.

Lucifer's face is covered in red sores. His vessel's wearing thin despite the amounts of demon blood he must be drinking to keep it in one piece.

Lucifer turned to face the Winchesters. "Help me understand something, guys. I mean, stomping through my front door is... a tad suicidal, don't you think?"

"We're not here to fight you." Y/N said, her voice colder than the room. Her time in Hell had steeled her, making her hate Lucifer with a passion, and she was eager for vengeance upon the cruel and manipulative man standing in front of her.

Lucifer smiled warmly. "Ah, the littlest Winchester. Shame you backed out of my deal. You'll be the last one to die, after I rip your brothers to pieces in front of you. Then-"

"I said, we're not here to fight you." She repeated again. Her brothers were shocked at her audacity, surprised at her bravery.

"No? Then why are you?"

Sam stepped forward. "I want to say yes."

Lucifer turned to look at the second youngest Winchester. "Excuse me?"

Sam takes a breath and closes his eyes, concentrating. The three demons standing behind them drop dead in a flash of light.

"Chock-full of Ovaltine, are we?" Lucifer asked.

"You heard me." Sam glared. "Yes."

"You're serious." He almost sounded surprised.

Sam looked at him. "Look, Judgment Day's a runaway train. We get it now. We just want off."

"Meaning?"

Sam shrugged. "Deal of the century. I give you a free ride, but when it's all over, I live, he lives, she lives, you bring our parents back-"

Lucifer rolled his eyes. "Okay, can we please drop the telenovela? I know you have the rings, Sam."

Sam decided to bluff. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Lucifer looked at the trio like they were children who needed to have everything explained to them. "The Horsemen's rings? The magic keys to my Cage? Ring a bell? Come on, Sam. I've never lied to you. You could at least pay me the same respect. It's okay. I'm not mad. A wrestling match inside your noggin... I like the idea. Just you and me, one round, no tricks. You win, you jump in the hole. I win... Well, then I win. What do you say, Sam? A fiddle of gold against your soul says I'm better than you."

"So he knows. Doesn't change anything." Sam spoke bracingly to his brother and sister.

"Sam..." Y/N said, her voice small.

"We don't have any other choice." Sam countered.

Dean glared at Lucifer. "No."

Sam turned back to the Devil. "Yes."

Lucifer closed his eyes, and a bright light emitted from his body, swallowing him, as Y/N and Dean shielded their eyes.

---

Bobby and Castiel watch as the windows of the building blaze with light, then dim. Bobby looks down at the ground in sadness, and Castiel silently prays that the Winchesters are alright.

---

Dean and Y/N look around, and noticing Sam motionless on the floor Y/N rushes over to him, kneeling beside him, face painted with worry.

Dean takes the Horsemen's Rings from his pocket and throws them at the wall where they stick. "Bvtmon...Tabges...Babalon." He recites.

A dark hole appears where the rings were, sucking everything in, growing larger and larger, sucking air and objects into it. Noticing Sam stir, Dean rushes over to where Y/N is beginning to rise from kneeling by their brother's body.

"Sammy!" Dean yells over the roar of the wind.

"Dean!" Sam's eyes open.

"Sammy!" Y/N pulls him into a hug.

Sam groans in pain. "I can feel him. Oh, god!"

"You got to go now! Come on!" Dean pulls Sam up from the floor. "Go now, Sammy. Now!"

Sam walks towards the vortex, taking a few deep breaths, preparing to jump. Suddenly, he turns around, a wicked grin on his face. "I was just messing with you. Sammy's long gone." Lucifer says, through Sam's body.

Y/N's eyes widen in fear, and she scrambles back, terror evident in her blue eyes.

Lucifer/Sam laugh at her expression. "You were always the weakest link, the easiest to manipulate. You should have stayed in Hell, where you belong." They turn back to the hole, muttering in Latin "Chdr bvtmon tabges babalon." The gate closes and Lucifer/Sam take the Horsemen's Rings from the wall and put them in their pocket. "I told you... this would always happen in Detroit." They disappear.

Y/N put her head in her hands, tears rolling down her cheeks. Dean put his arm around her, tears blurring his vision as well.

---

Dean, Y/N, and Bobby watch the screen of a television in a store window, eyes glues to the screen as the news reporter rambles on. "Reports are flooding in- a 7.6 earthquake in Portland, 8.1 in Boston, more in Hong Kong, Berlin, and Tehran. The U.S.G.S. has no explanation but says to expect a six-figure death toll."

Castiel appeared next to the somber group. "It's starting."

"Yeah, you think, genius?" Dean turns to look at him.

"Dean! Don't be mean." Y/N puts a hand on her brother's arm before gently placing a kiss on Castiel's cheek.

"So what do we do now?" Dean asks, expecting Cas to know.

"I suggest we imbibe copious quantities of alcohol... Just wait for the inevitable blast wave."

Dean replies with his usual sarcasm, "Yeah, swell. Thank you, Bukowski. I-I mean, how do we stop it?"

Cas frowned. "We don't. Lucifer will meet Michael on the chosen field, and the battle of Armageddon begins."

Y/N looks up at her boyfriend. "Okay, well, where's this chosen field?"

Cas sighs. "I don't know."

"Well, there's got to be something that we can do." Dean protests.

"I'm sorry, Dean. This is over."

"You listen to me, you junkless sissy." Dean growls. "We are not giving up! Bobby? Bobby?"

Bobby looks away from the televisions in the window. "There was never much hope to begin with. I don't know what to do."