(Fic) Chasing Lu - Thursday Part 2 - sncross_bigbang
Title: Chasing Lu
Author(s): darkangelazure
Beta(s): popeiathehippo and mrstotten
Crossover: Supernatural/Constantine (movie)
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters featured in this fic, it's just a bit of fun, don't sue me!
Type: Slash
Rating: NC-17
Word Count:
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean, John Constantine, Castiel, Lilith, Ruby, Papa Midnite, Angela Dodson, Chas Kramer, Ellen, Bobby, Beeman, Father Hennessy, Lu aka Lucifer.
Warnings: Strong Language, Consensual Incest, Sex, Violence, Gore, Death. Spoilers: Spoiler through Season 4
Artist:
davincis_girl
Link to Art: Master Art Post
Summary: The Winchester brothers are in LA, with another seal on the verge of breaking. Sam and Dean have to find out how a serious of demonic murders might point them on the right track and how Dean can finally realize his role.
Author’s Notes: Massive Thank you's to
davincis_girl for the brilliant and very breath taking art work she has done for this story, without her replies and her effort this wouldn't have been half the story I think it is right now. Thank you to popeiathehippo if she hadn't pulled out all her stops and devoted her valuable time there'd be so many typos and grammar mistakes nobody would be able to read! Thank you to mrstotten with her advise and suggestions I wouldn't have come up with most of my ideas thank you. This story was written for sncross_bigbang this has been a great way to get me back into my writing thank you.
Monday
Tuesday
Wednesday
Thursday
Friday
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thursday- Part 2
Infomercials might be one of Ruby’s biggest weaknesses.
She flicks through the channels and watches women stairmaster with 80’s perms and smile through plastic teeth whilst preaching the miracles of a banana diet; she even watches the ones for baldness.
She picks at a thread on her jeans and tells herself she isn’t waiting solely for Sam like a lost puppy dog.
Ruby lays down the remote and remembers the one time Sam actually opened up to her - and all he did was tell her about Dean. The way Dean liked having extra onions with his burger, how he would rifle through Sam’s stuff for extra change when they stopped at a motel with magic fingers and even the way he loved the Impala, followed their father and worshipped their dead mother.
The way he protected Sam.
Ruby sighs and rubs at her temples.
That’s when she hears a knock at the door, brisk enough to break through the noise of the T.V. “Room service.” The voice is overly chirpy for a place like this, the carpets looking like they haven’t been touched with suction (except the type you get on your knees for) for about a week.
“Yeah” she shouts back, unclipping the Glock from underneath the table and edging towards the door. She might be a demon, but guns are always good.
If she had a heartbeat, it’d be fast and stuttering as she reaches for the door handle. It feels stupid, the way she can hear every cog and click the thing does before she throws the door open.
The muzzle of the gun presses against the soft flesh of a poor girl’s forehead. She screams ”Oh my God, don’t kill me!”, begs, and Ruby actually feels bad.
“Oh I’m sorry, it’s just protection.” She uses her best, good girl next door-routine as the girl comes into her room, shaky and hands trembling full of white linen. Ruby closes the door with a sigh and strides back to the table to slip the Glock back under.
It’s when she turns at the scent of sulfur in the air that she picks it up again and fires, the boom cracking through the room and leaving her ears ringing.
“That smart.” The girl smirks as her eyes turn milky white.
“Lilith.” Ruby breathes her name like a prayer as she drops the gun and blood blooms on Lilith’s meatsuit’s uniform, red against the fading white.
“I like the suit, Ruby - always a little too old for me, but you do have very good taste. Even though I do prefer the blondes.” She smiles sweetly.
“What do you want, Lilith?” Ruby spits and tries to cover her fear with her rage as her eyes flash to black.
“Oh, the usual. Happiness, security, the apocalypse and the unyielding loyalty of Hell on Earth.” She says it like she’s reading a grocery list out loud as she picks the silver bullet out of her chest.
“Good luck with that.” Ruby snipes as she stands her ground.
“The thing is, though, I need something from you. As much as it pains me, you might actually be of some use to me.” It’s sweet the way she says it, like butter wouldn’t melt.
“Sorry, no can do.” Now Ruby’s actually scared as she feels her palms sweat. Suddenly, her body jerks forward, the tips of her toes scraping against the carpet when she is catapulted towards Lilith.
“Oh, honey, why be so cold? I know what, why don’t we kiss on it? C’mon, Ruby, give me a kiss” Lilith purrs as she cradles Ruby’s face, pressing closer and opening her mouth.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Samael impregnated Lilith after Adam cast her out of Eden and shelled out most of the demons in Hell.” Constantine holds a book between his fingers, the leather carved with an Anti-Christ in gold.
“Is that-?” Sam asks in awe as Constantine flips the thin paper, aged and yellow.
“Yeah, it’s the Bible of Hell. It’s just like a big mirror - what is in Heaven shall be reflected in Hell.” Constantine says it like he’s reading from it.
“Where did you get it?’ Sam asks, smoothing a hand over the pages reverently.
“Beeman. He hid it before that half-breed piece of shit, Balthazar, killed him” Constantine grates out as he turns the pages
“Is there anything in there about the 66 seals?” Dean chips in. He tries to swallow the lump in his throat as they both look at him.
“The seals that bar Hell to its own plane? Yeah, I think so.” Constantine turns a huge chunk of the book, the ends dog-eared and still together as the Latin calligraphy comes up.
“The first seal that opens the gates of Hell will be broken when a righteous man spills blood in Hell.” Sam reads it out loud and can see the devastation in Dean’s eyes.
“There’s over 600 here, it’s gonna take a while.” Constantine wipes a hand over his face and sits back in his chair.
They left Midnite’s nearly an hour ago, taking alleyways and shortcuts to his loft. Dean seemed impressed when he got to Constantine’s door, the gouged out symbols, chicken scratch old and strong.
Water cooler drums filled with holy water - a pretty good idea, Dean thought before Constantine pulled out the Bible. “I think anything to do with Samael would be a pretty good start.” Dean takes a sip of his drink, his hands shaking and his nerves rattling at the memory of that day in Hell, the day he really sold his soul.
“Yeah, I know that, asshole.” Dean knows the guy’s helping them out, but he still wants to punch him in the face.
“So, why are you helping us?” Dean is actually curious; they met this guy tonight and, on the word of a bowl full of stones, he decides to just come into the game?
“You know, you guys aren’t the only ones at war. A seal was broken here a few months back, Mammon tried to cross over with the help of Gabriel and I’ve just found what seal that is.”
“When the faith of Heaven is tested, an archangel will defy the Lord in favor of Lucifer, breaking a seal that holds Hell” he reads aloud.
“The Gabriel?” Dean asks, shocked, as he places his glass down on the table.
“Yeah, the Gabriel. Stupid bitch is on Boulevard with a sign round his neck, preaching. Got demoted down to our level.” He doesn’t even look up from the book.
That’s when Sam’s phone rings; it buzzes and squeals as he fishes in his suit jacket. “Hi.”
“Sam, I have a lead on Lilith.”
“Right now?” Sam asks, looking over at Dean and Constantine as they read through the seals. The place smells like old smoke and blood.
“Yes, right now. You have to come over.”
“But I can’t, I need more” he whispers into the phone, turning away from Dean. The sun’s setting dirt orange past the sky scrapers.
“I’ll give you what you need when you get here, but it has to be right now.” Ruby’s voice is firm, no room to wriggle as Sam tries to think of a way he can take Dean and Constantine with him. “Fine, I’ll be there as soon as possible” Sam sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he flips the phone shut.
“What was that about?” The last rays of the sun catch on the blonde of his hair, and Sam tastes ash in his mouth as he opens it to lie.
“Nothing, I talked to Ruby. She has something for me, I won’t be gone long. Keep me posted.” He dashes out before Dean can chew on him about it.
“So, what are you two?” Constantine asks with an absence of mind that borders on obscenity, like he’s asking for direction in the middle of Buttfuck Nowhere, Alabama.
“What?” Dean takes another sip of his whiskey because he’s heard this question before.
“You know.” Constantine’s hand does this round gesture, not overly, but enough to push a point.
“We’re brothers” Dean bites out as he looks through the seals and spots reapers, thinking of Tessa and burying Pamela. Maybe Tessa was there to do that, take a friend.
“Oh.” It’s almost a none-comment as Constantine turns the page.
They stay in silence, just the scratch and shuffle of fingers against paper and the fading of the twilight.
“What’s your last name?”
“Winchester.” And it’s the way Constantine looks up and at Dean that makes him want to pour another glass.
“I knew your Dad.” He says it as he looks back down at the bible, taking a drink from his glass and starting from the top of the page. “He was a good guy.”
Dean swallows past the lump in his throat and tries not to concentrate on the word ‘was’ as he pours them both more bourbon. “He went to Hell for me”, he says, quickly taking another drink, and he finally feels it start to work, his limbs loosening as he tries not to be disappointed at himself.
“And you went for Sam. Talk about fucked up”, and they both actually start to laugh a little. Dean hasn’t laughed like this in months and Sam isn’t even there to see it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sam feels it, the giddy rush, and and he’s starting to figure out that his one last time doesn’t mean shit as he unlocks the Impala. His hands are shaking - like he’s holding a gun for the first time, slipped it under his pillow like his dad told him to - as he tightens his grip around the leather wheel, the weight of it almost right there with him as he starts the engine.
Everything feels like blurs and going through the motions as he stops at red lights and overtakes.
The worst part is that he knows Dean wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t get why he even started it. But it had just happened, and he remembers the first time, the way he’d been hurting so bad, not even getting drunk would fade it. But Ruby had offered him something, had said it would make him stronger, faster, better, maybe even enough to take on Lilith, rip the fucking bitch’s head off and get Dean back himself.
But now Dean was back and Sam had stopped, said he didn’t need it anymore - but one last time turned into another five fixes and now he’s fucking close to breaking through, he’s nearly strong enough, he can feel it.
He pulls up and the red lights are just as neon and cheap as the last time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Samael is a big-timer - some cultures say he’s an angel, some say he’s a demon, but, and that’s really the worst part: he’s both. Rained over the 7th heaven in the beginning but after the Fall he liked Lu’s idea-
“Lu?” Dean interjects and he knows he shouldn’t be drinking as he screws the cap back onto the bottle of bourbon with clumsy fingers.
“Yeah Lu. Lucifer. As I was saying, he kinda bounced between the both of them. Because he’s not really an angel, he can pass between worlds. He took Lilith as a bride when she left Adam. But he still kept in God’s favor, because really, he’s neither good nor bad.
“So, what you’re saying is - Sam might or might not be a “not angel”?” Dean tries to keep the slight slur out of his words as he watches Constantine spin a nicotine gum wrapper between his fingers, thumbing through the Bible.
“No, what I’m saying is that if Lilith gets her claws into him, we’re fucked. We lose another seal and a good chance at hitting those half-breed fuckers where it hurts: their numbers.” Constantine finishes, wincing at the taste of the gum and settling on a seal.
“Samael will be awakened in matrimony, as it was in the beginning. As Lilith takes her rightful place as the Bride, he will drink from the First Mother and be the right hand of Morning Star.”
“Matrimony? Sam has to marry that bitch?” Dean nearly guffaws as he looks over Constantine’s shoulder, his Latin’s never been the best, he’s always had Sam for that, but he can still make it out.
“Not just marry her, but drink, which doesn’t mean buy the broad a Jack and Coke and hope she puts out. No, if it’s something to do with Hell and ritual, it’s definitely going to involve a shitload of blood.” Constantine’s tone is blasé, like it’s just common knowledge, as he gets out of his chair.
“What the F-! Dude. That - that’s just plain gross.” Dean grimaces as he stands with Constantine, who opens up a cabinet.
Constantine gives what Dean can make out as a chuckle as he pops a hidden panel dug into the concrete, revealing gold bullets and holy water, a few 9mm, unclipped and carved in silver. But it’s the golden monster that makes Dean start to salivate, a cross-shaped automatic shotgun with a large silver ‘Tommy gun’-like cylinder clip, a small crucifix sight at the business end, ornately carved from barrel to butt, and in, Dean’s opinion, the most beautiful thing he might ever have seen.
“Dude, what is that?!” he breathes out with an awestruck punch in his gut as he fingers reach out.
“Oh, that thing, that’s the Holy Shotgun. Just something I cooked up on a weekend I had free.” Dean doesn’t even care that he’s smug as fuck, because all his fingers want to do is disassemble that baby and learn every square inch of it like a fine woman. The Impala might have a bit of competition.
“But we’re not going to need it, not this time anyway.” Constantine snaps him back into reality, stalling Dean’s hungry fingers with a firm hand on his wrist. For a guy who looks like a recovering cancer patient, he’s no weakling.
“Fine, but you better have something equally as cool as this, or I’m totally using her.” Constantine cocks an eyebrow and it’s just a lilt of his lips, but Dean can tell it’s a smile as he feels John’s fingers release his wrist.
“I’m not so sure about that.” It’s an actual wry smile now as he pinches a few vials of holy water between his fingers, they roll on the table and he balances a few boxes of ammo and pops out a shotgun from underneath the table. And then Constantine pulls out two Smith and Wesson’s, carved in silver. Dean knows the scripture of Michael when he sees it, and he watches John loads in the gold bullets, just as carved, delicate lines of power that come to a cross at the points.
“That’s strong stuff you’re using.” Dean tries to make it sound like a comment, but he feels like he’s holding the Colt for the first time as he picks one of them up. It feels good in his hands as he looks down the barrel and pulls the chamber back, lets it shunt forward again, smooth as butter as he loads in a clip.
“You don’t bring a knife to a gunfight. We don’t have advantages like they do; angels have God’s backing and demons got their own boss. This just evens out the playing field” Constantine states as he slams in a full clip.
Dean nods, because out of all this, he’s still human. He’s not like Sam or Castiel or, God forbid, Ruby. He’s just flesh, bone and sinew, and now he’s in a holy war with nothing but his bare hands compared to them all.
“About this seal…it has to be done willingly.” Constantine lays the gun down and pulls out another piece of nicotine gum.
“What are you saying?” It’s not really a question, because Dean can’t wrap his head around why Sam would do it willingly. But the doubt, like a splinter in the middle of his mind, niggles and jibes, reminding him that he doesn’t really know what Sam’s capable of these days.
“I’m saying Sam has to drink from her of his own free will. Not even God and Lucifer can mess with free will, it’s the only thing man’s got. The only power we got over the both of them” Constantine fills in and Dean feels his stomach knot.
“Yeah, well, he wouldn’t do that.” His reply is automatic and it feels fake and ash like on his tongue, but the words are already in the air and Dean isn’t a man who takes back what he says, not to nobody. And the way Constantine looks at him, the slight raise of an eyebrow and tilt of his chin that makes Dean want to punch him again. What an asshole.
“If you’re sure.” John says and the silence starts to eat at Dean as he checks a knife he’s handed. A simple leather grip, but the blade is ornate, curved at the tip as if for gouging instead of a quick stab.
A tool made for torture, really, Dean thinks absently, and it’s like Alistair’s there again, whispering in his ear and Dean shudders at that. The silence isn’t even broken by the distant hum of traffic and mumbles of police sirens.
Then the banging starts, frantic and fast on the wall, just on the right side of the door frame.
Constantine grabs the 9mm on his right, mother of pearly grips, and crosses to the door, Dean staying loosely to his left. It’s strange to use somebody else’s gun, even one as pretty and powerful in his grip as this one, and he stays out of sight of the doorway.
Constantine opens the door; it creaks a little, but he only pulls it ajar.
“I know Dean’s there, tell him to get his ass out here. We’ve got a fucking problem.” It’s a guy on the other side, Constantine’s gun already out pointing at him.
“I think you’ve got a bigger problem, you half-breed piece of shit, if you don’t get the fuck gone.” Dean can hear the threatening click of the safety coming off as he positions himself into view. The crack is small and between Constantine’s frame and the taut brass chain of the lock, he sees the guy. He’s maybe in his early 20’s, blond and tanned like most Los Angeleans, with a motel manager badge saying David. The muzzle of 9mm is pressed into his forehead, and his eyes are empty black.
“What do you want?” Dean asks, but he’s really itching to see what Constantine’s gun can do, see if it’s as good as the Colt.
“I want that gun out of my face and for you to get your asses out of here. Lilith’s got Sam.” And Dean can feel his stomach bottom out on him, He pulls his own gun on ‘David’.
“You’re lying” he hisses at him and the guy’s eyes change to blue that only seems deeper against the mucky tan. The beige of his uniform doesn’t seem to fit right. “For the love of- It’s me! Ruby!” ‘David’ opens up his arms, like it’s supposed to show him for what he really is.
“Well, now I know you’re lying” Dean spits as he starts to pull the trigger.
“I did this last time! I was a big black maid!” ‘David’ blurts out, his hands up in the air as the muzzle of the gun cuts into his flesh.
“Fine.” Dean slips his own gun into the back of his jeans and tries not to hyperventilate.
“Fan-fucking-tastic.” Constantine grates out as he pulls his gun away, shifting on the safety and slamming the door in Ruby’s face. Dean knows he’s sweating, fat droplets coming up on the back of his neck, his palms clammy as Constantine grabs a duffle bag, simple black, like most of his wardrobe.
He picks up the Holy Shotgun and wraps it in white canvas.
“I thought we weren’t going to use it” Dean manages as he packs in the guns, trying to breathe through the panic that streaks in his mind.
“That was when we didn’t need it.” And it’s the closest thing to a smirk that Dean can make out as he zips up the bag.
Ruby’s still waiting outside the door as they come through, taking the steps two at a time and all Dean can hear is his heart as they get through the door. He scans for the Impala.
“Sonofabitch!” Dean digs his fingers into the soft flesh of his palm, gritting his teeth as a Taxi cab pulls up beside them, the chipped yellow and black of it visible in the government issue glow of the street lights that line the long, concrete grime of the street.
“You need a ride?” It doesn’t feel like a question as the guy, more of a kid, really, leans out of the passenger window, brown cap and a cocky grin broad on his face, looking up between Constantine and Dean.
“You’ve got shitty timing, Chas.” Constantine remarks as he slips into the back seat. But, at the same time, Ruby’s eyes balloon black, and the visible shudder that wrecks her body sets Dean’s alarm bells ringing.
“You two, get in, we don’t have time for this bullshit” Constantine remarks from inside the cab, but Dean feel a quiver like the one that fills the air like before a thunder storm as he takes a seat next to Constantine.
“It is not getting in my cab” Chas snaps, his eyes flashing gold and angry as he glares up at Ruby.
“Like I’d want to ride with a jumped up cherub like you, anyway!” Ruby sneers and it’s like they’ve totally forgotten about the rest of the world in their instinctual hatred.
“SHUT UP!” Dean roars and it’s almost like the dam has broken as the whole cab goes silent with the outburst. Every fiber of him is being pulled towards Sam, knowing Sam needs him.
“You get in this fucking car, and you-“ He leans out and grabs Ruby’s masculine hand to yank her into the car. “I swear to God, if you don’t start the fucking cab, I will tear you apart with my bare hands.” It’s low, dirty and desperate.
Ruby flinches at the name of God, but keeps herself quiet as the cab rumbles to a start.
It’s down Figueroa that a sudden blast of air fills the cab and the whisper of wings fills everyone’s ears.
“Have you told him, Ruby?” Castiel’s voice is cool and calculating as his sharp blue gaze traps Ruby in the reflection of the rearview mirror.
“There’s nothing to tell.” Ruby snaps, but her voice is shaking.
“If you will not inform him, Ruby, I will be forced to.” Castiel’s tone holds no room to move as they both stare at each other.
“Either way, I’ll end up dead! I tell him now, what good’s that gonna do?!” Ruby lashes back.
“What the fuck is going on!?” Dean finally pushes in as Castiel and Ruby glare at each other.
“You ever wonder how Sam’s getting stronger?” Ruby says it like a riddle and Dean can feel the bile rise in his throat. He might be a lot of things, but he’s not stupid.
Dean’s only lost it once in his life, really lost every sense of what it is to preserve life and that was the time Sam nearly got disemboweled by a drunk townie in Ohio. He doesn’t even remember Sam pulling him from the guy, but he knows it was the first real time that Sam was scared of him.
He doesn’t even realize that he’s grabbed hold of Ruby’s head and is smashing it into the metal frame of the door where the rubber’s worn away at the window, but he can smell the blood and feel the pop of a jaw as Constantine tries to pry him off.
He doesn’t recognize that he’s screaming, Constantine’s willowy but strangely strong arms pulling him back in the cramped cab as Ruby’s jaw hangs down limply. Blood is sprayed up the window, opaque splashes as she pops back the sagging bone with a wet crunch.
“When this is over, I’m gonna kill you.” And Dean’s never meant something so much as he looks Ruby right in her dead black eyes and spits in her face.
“Sort this shit out on your own time! Right now, we need to get to Sam” Constantine growls as he shoves Dean off of himself. Ruby’s wipes her face and spits blood into the footwell.
“Take a right up here. It’s the motel on your left, room 15” Ruby slurs through the blood and puts a finger against the split of her lips to push a tooth back into the busted gum.
“I don’t know why we’re trusting her judgment, Castiel, she’s a demon.” Chas whispers, like they can’t all hear his disdain, as he flashes a look at Ruby, his eyes glinting a round gold and back to brown as he drives through a red light.
“She is the only one who has direct knowledge of Lilith’s whereabouts, Chas. This seal is not negotiable, we must have faith in our orders to believe her.” Castiel’s tone is even as he stares out of the window.
It’s when Dean starts to notice there are no cars on the roads, there haven’t been for the past five minutes, just cracked black top and the bright lights of gas stations and 7/11’s that line up behind the streetlights.
The absence of life seems to hold it’s own tension, it’s own energy that fills up the cab and crawls against Dean’s insides as he for the first time in what feels like an age, he prays.
Friday
Author(s): darkangelazure
Beta(s): popeiathehippo and mrstotten
Crossover: Supernatural/Constantine (movie)
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters featured in this fic, it's just a bit of fun, don't sue me!
Type: Slash
Rating: NC-17
Word Count:
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean, John Constantine, Castiel, Lilith, Ruby, Papa Midnite, Angela Dodson, Chas Kramer, Ellen, Bobby, Beeman, Father Hennessy, Lu aka Lucifer.
Warnings: Strong Language, Consensual Incest, Sex, Violence, Gore, Death. Spoilers: Spoiler through Season 4
Artist:
davincis_girl
Link to Art: Master Art Post
Summary: The Winchester brothers are in LA, with another seal on the verge of breaking. Sam and Dean have to find out how a serious of demonic murders might point them on the right track and how Dean can finally realize his role.
Author’s Notes: Massive Thank you's to
davincis_girl for the brilliant and very breath taking art work she has done for this story, without her replies and her effort this wouldn't have been half the story I think it is right now. Thank you to popeiathehippo if she hadn't pulled out all her stops and devoted her valuable time there'd be so many typos and grammar mistakes nobody would be able to read! Thank you to mrstotten with her advise and suggestions I wouldn't have come up with most of my ideas thank you. This story was written for sncross_bigbang this has been a great way to get me back into my writing thank you.
Monday
Tuesday
Wednesday
Thursday
Friday
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thursday- Part 2
Infomercials might be one of Ruby’s biggest weaknesses.
She flicks through the channels and watches women stairmaster with 80’s perms and smile through plastic teeth whilst preaching the miracles of a banana diet; she even watches the ones for baldness.
She picks at a thread on her jeans and tells herself she isn’t waiting solely for Sam like a lost puppy dog.
Ruby lays down the remote and remembers the one time Sam actually opened up to her - and all he did was tell her about Dean. The way Dean liked having extra onions with his burger, how he would rifle through Sam’s stuff for extra change when they stopped at a motel with magic fingers and even the way he loved the Impala, followed their father and worshipped their dead mother.
The way he protected Sam.
Ruby sighs and rubs at her temples.
That’s when she hears a knock at the door, brisk enough to break through the noise of the T.V. “Room service.” The voice is overly chirpy for a place like this, the carpets looking like they haven’t been touched with suction (except the type you get on your knees for) for about a week.
“Yeah” she shouts back, unclipping the Glock from underneath the table and edging towards the door. She might be a demon, but guns are always good.
If she had a heartbeat, it’d be fast and stuttering as she reaches for the door handle. It feels stupid, the way she can hear every cog and click the thing does before she throws the door open.
The muzzle of the gun presses against the soft flesh of a poor girl’s forehead. She screams ”Oh my God, don’t kill me!”, begs, and Ruby actually feels bad.
“Oh I’m sorry, it’s just protection.” She uses her best, good girl next door-routine as the girl comes into her room, shaky and hands trembling full of white linen. Ruby closes the door with a sigh and strides back to the table to slip the Glock back under.
It’s when she turns at the scent of sulfur in the air that she picks it up again and fires, the boom cracking through the room and leaving her ears ringing.
“That smart.” The girl smirks as her eyes turn milky white.
“Lilith.” Ruby breathes her name like a prayer as she drops the gun and blood blooms on Lilith’s meatsuit’s uniform, red against the fading white.
“I like the suit, Ruby - always a little too old for me, but you do have very good taste. Even though I do prefer the blondes.” She smiles sweetly.
“What do you want, Lilith?” Ruby spits and tries to cover her fear with her rage as her eyes flash to black.
“Oh, the usual. Happiness, security, the apocalypse and the unyielding loyalty of Hell on Earth.” She says it like she’s reading a grocery list out loud as she picks the silver bullet out of her chest.
“Good luck with that.” Ruby snipes as she stands her ground.
“The thing is, though, I need something from you. As much as it pains me, you might actually be of some use to me.” It’s sweet the way she says it, like butter wouldn’t melt.
“Sorry, no can do.” Now Ruby’s actually scared as she feels her palms sweat. Suddenly, her body jerks forward, the tips of her toes scraping against the carpet when she is catapulted towards Lilith.
“Oh, honey, why be so cold? I know what, why don’t we kiss on it? C’mon, Ruby, give me a kiss” Lilith purrs as she cradles Ruby’s face, pressing closer and opening her mouth.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Samael impregnated Lilith after Adam cast her out of Eden and shelled out most of the demons in Hell.” Constantine holds a book between his fingers, the leather carved with an Anti-Christ in gold.
“Is that-?” Sam asks in awe as Constantine flips the thin paper, aged and yellow.
“Yeah, it’s the Bible of Hell. It’s just like a big mirror - what is in Heaven shall be reflected in Hell.” Constantine says it like he’s reading from it.
“Where did you get it?’ Sam asks, smoothing a hand over the pages reverently.
“Beeman. He hid it before that half-breed piece of shit, Balthazar, killed him” Constantine grates out as he turns the pages
“Is there anything in there about the 66 seals?” Dean chips in. He tries to swallow the lump in his throat as they both look at him.
“The seals that bar Hell to its own plane? Yeah, I think so.” Constantine turns a huge chunk of the book, the ends dog-eared and still together as the Latin calligraphy comes up.
“The first seal that opens the gates of Hell will be broken when a righteous man spills blood in Hell.” Sam reads it out loud and can see the devastation in Dean’s eyes.
“There’s over 600 here, it’s gonna take a while.” Constantine wipes a hand over his face and sits back in his chair.
They left Midnite’s nearly an hour ago, taking alleyways and shortcuts to his loft. Dean seemed impressed when he got to Constantine’s door, the gouged out symbols, chicken scratch old and strong.
Water cooler drums filled with holy water - a pretty good idea, Dean thought before Constantine pulled out the Bible. “I think anything to do with Samael would be a pretty good start.” Dean takes a sip of his drink, his hands shaking and his nerves rattling at the memory of that day in Hell, the day he really sold his soul.
“Yeah, I know that, asshole.” Dean knows the guy’s helping them out, but he still wants to punch him in the face.
“So, why are you helping us?” Dean is actually curious; they met this guy tonight and, on the word of a bowl full of stones, he decides to just come into the game?
“You know, you guys aren’t the only ones at war. A seal was broken here a few months back, Mammon tried to cross over with the help of Gabriel and I’ve just found what seal that is.”
“When the faith of Heaven is tested, an archangel will defy the Lord in favor of Lucifer, breaking a seal that holds Hell” he reads aloud.
“The Gabriel?” Dean asks, shocked, as he places his glass down on the table.
“Yeah, the Gabriel. Stupid bitch is on Boulevard with a sign round his neck, preaching. Got demoted down to our level.” He doesn’t even look up from the book.
That’s when Sam’s phone rings; it buzzes and squeals as he fishes in his suit jacket. “Hi.”
“Sam, I have a lead on Lilith.”
“Right now?” Sam asks, looking over at Dean and Constantine as they read through the seals. The place smells like old smoke and blood.
“Yes, right now. You have to come over.”
“But I can’t, I need more” he whispers into the phone, turning away from Dean. The sun’s setting dirt orange past the sky scrapers.
“I’ll give you what you need when you get here, but it has to be right now.” Ruby’s voice is firm, no room to wriggle as Sam tries to think of a way he can take Dean and Constantine with him. “Fine, I’ll be there as soon as possible” Sam sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he flips the phone shut.
“What was that about?” The last rays of the sun catch on the blonde of his hair, and Sam tastes ash in his mouth as he opens it to lie.
“Nothing, I talked to Ruby. She has something for me, I won’t be gone long. Keep me posted.” He dashes out before Dean can chew on him about it.
“So, what are you two?” Constantine asks with an absence of mind that borders on obscenity, like he’s asking for direction in the middle of Buttfuck Nowhere, Alabama.
“What?” Dean takes another sip of his whiskey because he’s heard this question before.
“You know.” Constantine’s hand does this round gesture, not overly, but enough to push a point.
“We’re brothers” Dean bites out as he looks through the seals and spots reapers, thinking of Tessa and burying Pamela. Maybe Tessa was there to do that, take a friend.
“Oh.” It’s almost a none-comment as Constantine turns the page.
They stay in silence, just the scratch and shuffle of fingers against paper and the fading of the twilight.
“What’s your last name?”
“Winchester.” And it’s the way Constantine looks up and at Dean that makes him want to pour another glass.
“I knew your Dad.” He says it as he looks back down at the bible, taking a drink from his glass and starting from the top of the page. “He was a good guy.”
Dean swallows past the lump in his throat and tries not to concentrate on the word ‘was’ as he pours them both more bourbon. “He went to Hell for me”, he says, quickly taking another drink, and he finally feels it start to work, his limbs loosening as he tries not to be disappointed at himself.
“And you went for Sam. Talk about fucked up”, and they both actually start to laugh a little. Dean hasn’t laughed like this in months and Sam isn’t even there to see it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sam feels it, the giddy rush, and and he’s starting to figure out that his one last time doesn’t mean shit as he unlocks the Impala. His hands are shaking - like he’s holding a gun for the first time, slipped it under his pillow like his dad told him to - as he tightens his grip around the leather wheel, the weight of it almost right there with him as he starts the engine.
Everything feels like blurs and going through the motions as he stops at red lights and overtakes.
The worst part is that he knows Dean wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t get why he even started it. But it had just happened, and he remembers the first time, the way he’d been hurting so bad, not even getting drunk would fade it. But Ruby had offered him something, had said it would make him stronger, faster, better, maybe even enough to take on Lilith, rip the fucking bitch’s head off and get Dean back himself.
But now Dean was back and Sam had stopped, said he didn’t need it anymore - but one last time turned into another five fixes and now he’s fucking close to breaking through, he’s nearly strong enough, he can feel it.
He pulls up and the red lights are just as neon and cheap as the last time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Samael is a big-timer - some cultures say he’s an angel, some say he’s a demon, but, and that’s really the worst part: he’s both. Rained over the 7th heaven in the beginning but after the Fall he liked Lu’s idea-
“Lu?” Dean interjects and he knows he shouldn’t be drinking as he screws the cap back onto the bottle of bourbon with clumsy fingers.
“Yeah Lu. Lucifer. As I was saying, he kinda bounced between the both of them. Because he’s not really an angel, he can pass between worlds. He took Lilith as a bride when she left Adam. But he still kept in God’s favor, because really, he’s neither good nor bad.
“So, what you’re saying is - Sam might or might not be a “not angel”?” Dean tries to keep the slight slur out of his words as he watches Constantine spin a nicotine gum wrapper between his fingers, thumbing through the Bible.
“No, what I’m saying is that if Lilith gets her claws into him, we’re fucked. We lose another seal and a good chance at hitting those half-breed fuckers where it hurts: their numbers.” Constantine finishes, wincing at the taste of the gum and settling on a seal.
“Samael will be awakened in matrimony, as it was in the beginning. As Lilith takes her rightful place as the Bride, he will drink from the First Mother and be the right hand of Morning Star.”
“Matrimony? Sam has to marry that bitch?” Dean nearly guffaws as he looks over Constantine’s shoulder, his Latin’s never been the best, he’s always had Sam for that, but he can still make it out.
“Not just marry her, but drink, which doesn’t mean buy the broad a Jack and Coke and hope she puts out. No, if it’s something to do with Hell and ritual, it’s definitely going to involve a shitload of blood.” Constantine’s tone is blasé, like it’s just common knowledge, as he gets out of his chair.
“What the F-! Dude. That - that’s just plain gross.” Dean grimaces as he stands with Constantine, who opens up a cabinet.
Constantine gives what Dean can make out as a chuckle as he pops a hidden panel dug into the concrete, revealing gold bullets and holy water, a few 9mm, unclipped and carved in silver. But it’s the golden monster that makes Dean start to salivate, a cross-shaped automatic shotgun with a large silver ‘Tommy gun’-like cylinder clip, a small crucifix sight at the business end, ornately carved from barrel to butt, and in, Dean’s opinion, the most beautiful thing he might ever have seen.
“Dude, what is that?!” he breathes out with an awestruck punch in his gut as he fingers reach out.
“Oh, that thing, that’s the Holy Shotgun. Just something I cooked up on a weekend I had free.” Dean doesn’t even care that he’s smug as fuck, because all his fingers want to do is disassemble that baby and learn every square inch of it like a fine woman. The Impala might have a bit of competition.
“But we’re not going to need it, not this time anyway.” Constantine snaps him back into reality, stalling Dean’s hungry fingers with a firm hand on his wrist. For a guy who looks like a recovering cancer patient, he’s no weakling.
“Fine, but you better have something equally as cool as this, or I’m totally using her.” Constantine cocks an eyebrow and it’s just a lilt of his lips, but Dean can tell it’s a smile as he feels John’s fingers release his wrist.
“I’m not so sure about that.” It’s an actual wry smile now as he pinches a few vials of holy water between his fingers, they roll on the table and he balances a few boxes of ammo and pops out a shotgun from underneath the table. And then Constantine pulls out two Smith and Wesson’s, carved in silver. Dean knows the scripture of Michael when he sees it, and he watches John loads in the gold bullets, just as carved, delicate lines of power that come to a cross at the points.
“That’s strong stuff you’re using.” Dean tries to make it sound like a comment, but he feels like he’s holding the Colt for the first time as he picks one of them up. It feels good in his hands as he looks down the barrel and pulls the chamber back, lets it shunt forward again, smooth as butter as he loads in a clip.
“You don’t bring a knife to a gunfight. We don’t have advantages like they do; angels have God’s backing and demons got their own boss. This just evens out the playing field” Constantine states as he slams in a full clip.
Dean nods, because out of all this, he’s still human. He’s not like Sam or Castiel or, God forbid, Ruby. He’s just flesh, bone and sinew, and now he’s in a holy war with nothing but his bare hands compared to them all.
“About this seal…it has to be done willingly.” Constantine lays the gun down and pulls out another piece of nicotine gum.
“What are you saying?” It’s not really a question, because Dean can’t wrap his head around why Sam would do it willingly. But the doubt, like a splinter in the middle of his mind, niggles and jibes, reminding him that he doesn’t really know what Sam’s capable of these days.
“I’m saying Sam has to drink from her of his own free will. Not even God and Lucifer can mess with free will, it’s the only thing man’s got. The only power we got over the both of them” Constantine fills in and Dean feels his stomach knot.
“Yeah, well, he wouldn’t do that.” His reply is automatic and it feels fake and ash like on his tongue, but the words are already in the air and Dean isn’t a man who takes back what he says, not to nobody. And the way Constantine looks at him, the slight raise of an eyebrow and tilt of his chin that makes Dean want to punch him again. What an asshole.
“If you’re sure.” John says and the silence starts to eat at Dean as he checks a knife he’s handed. A simple leather grip, but the blade is ornate, curved at the tip as if for gouging instead of a quick stab.
A tool made for torture, really, Dean thinks absently, and it’s like Alistair’s there again, whispering in his ear and Dean shudders at that. The silence isn’t even broken by the distant hum of traffic and mumbles of police sirens.
Then the banging starts, frantic and fast on the wall, just on the right side of the door frame.
Constantine grabs the 9mm on his right, mother of pearly grips, and crosses to the door, Dean staying loosely to his left. It’s strange to use somebody else’s gun, even one as pretty and powerful in his grip as this one, and he stays out of sight of the doorway.
Constantine opens the door; it creaks a little, but he only pulls it ajar.
“I know Dean’s there, tell him to get his ass out here. We’ve got a fucking problem.” It’s a guy on the other side, Constantine’s gun already out pointing at him.
“I think you’ve got a bigger problem, you half-breed piece of shit, if you don’t get the fuck gone.” Dean can hear the threatening click of the safety coming off as he positions himself into view. The crack is small and between Constantine’s frame and the taut brass chain of the lock, he sees the guy. He’s maybe in his early 20’s, blond and tanned like most Los Angeleans, with a motel manager badge saying David. The muzzle of 9mm is pressed into his forehead, and his eyes are empty black.
“What do you want?” Dean asks, but he’s really itching to see what Constantine’s gun can do, see if it’s as good as the Colt.
“I want that gun out of my face and for you to get your asses out of here. Lilith’s got Sam.” And Dean can feel his stomach bottom out on him, He pulls his own gun on ‘David’.
“You’re lying” he hisses at him and the guy’s eyes change to blue that only seems deeper against the mucky tan. The beige of his uniform doesn’t seem to fit right. “For the love of- It’s me! Ruby!” ‘David’ opens up his arms, like it’s supposed to show him for what he really is.
“Well, now I know you’re lying” Dean spits as he starts to pull the trigger.
“I did this last time! I was a big black maid!” ‘David’ blurts out, his hands up in the air as the muzzle of the gun cuts into his flesh.
“Fine.” Dean slips his own gun into the back of his jeans and tries not to hyperventilate.
“Fan-fucking-tastic.” Constantine grates out as he pulls his gun away, shifting on the safety and slamming the door in Ruby’s face. Dean knows he’s sweating, fat droplets coming up on the back of his neck, his palms clammy as Constantine grabs a duffle bag, simple black, like most of his wardrobe.
He picks up the Holy Shotgun and wraps it in white canvas.
“I thought we weren’t going to use it” Dean manages as he packs in the guns, trying to breathe through the panic that streaks in his mind.
“That was when we didn’t need it.” And it’s the closest thing to a smirk that Dean can make out as he zips up the bag.
Ruby’s still waiting outside the door as they come through, taking the steps two at a time and all Dean can hear is his heart as they get through the door. He scans for the Impala.
“Sonofabitch!” Dean digs his fingers into the soft flesh of his palm, gritting his teeth as a Taxi cab pulls up beside them, the chipped yellow and black of it visible in the government issue glow of the street lights that line the long, concrete grime of the street.
“You need a ride?” It doesn’t feel like a question as the guy, more of a kid, really, leans out of the passenger window, brown cap and a cocky grin broad on his face, looking up between Constantine and Dean.
“You’ve got shitty timing, Chas.” Constantine remarks as he slips into the back seat. But, at the same time, Ruby’s eyes balloon black, and the visible shudder that wrecks her body sets Dean’s alarm bells ringing.
“You two, get in, we don’t have time for this bullshit” Constantine remarks from inside the cab, but Dean feel a quiver like the one that fills the air like before a thunder storm as he takes a seat next to Constantine.
“It is not getting in my cab” Chas snaps, his eyes flashing gold and angry as he glares up at Ruby.
“Like I’d want to ride with a jumped up cherub like you, anyway!” Ruby sneers and it’s like they’ve totally forgotten about the rest of the world in their instinctual hatred.
“SHUT UP!” Dean roars and it’s almost like the dam has broken as the whole cab goes silent with the outburst. Every fiber of him is being pulled towards Sam, knowing Sam needs him.
“You get in this fucking car, and you-“ He leans out and grabs Ruby’s masculine hand to yank her into the car. “I swear to God, if you don’t start the fucking cab, I will tear you apart with my bare hands.” It’s low, dirty and desperate.
Ruby flinches at the name of God, but keeps herself quiet as the cab rumbles to a start.
It’s down Figueroa that a sudden blast of air fills the cab and the whisper of wings fills everyone’s ears.
“Have you told him, Ruby?” Castiel’s voice is cool and calculating as his sharp blue gaze traps Ruby in the reflection of the rearview mirror.
“There’s nothing to tell.” Ruby snaps, but her voice is shaking.
“If you will not inform him, Ruby, I will be forced to.” Castiel’s tone holds no room to move as they both stare at each other.
“Either way, I’ll end up dead! I tell him now, what good’s that gonna do?!” Ruby lashes back.
“What the fuck is going on!?” Dean finally pushes in as Castiel and Ruby glare at each other.
“You ever wonder how Sam’s getting stronger?” Ruby says it like a riddle and Dean can feel the bile rise in his throat. He might be a lot of things, but he’s not stupid.
Dean’s only lost it once in his life, really lost every sense of what it is to preserve life and that was the time Sam nearly got disemboweled by a drunk townie in Ohio. He doesn’t even remember Sam pulling him from the guy, but he knows it was the first real time that Sam was scared of him.
He doesn’t even realize that he’s grabbed hold of Ruby’s head and is smashing it into the metal frame of the door where the rubber’s worn away at the window, but he can smell the blood and feel the pop of a jaw as Constantine tries to pry him off.
He doesn’t recognize that he’s screaming, Constantine’s willowy but strangely strong arms pulling him back in the cramped cab as Ruby’s jaw hangs down limply. Blood is sprayed up the window, opaque splashes as she pops back the sagging bone with a wet crunch.
“When this is over, I’m gonna kill you.” And Dean’s never meant something so much as he looks Ruby right in her dead black eyes and spits in her face.
“Sort this shit out on your own time! Right now, we need to get to Sam” Constantine growls as he shoves Dean off of himself. Ruby’s wipes her face and spits blood into the footwell.
“Take a right up here. It’s the motel on your left, room 15” Ruby slurs through the blood and puts a finger against the split of her lips to push a tooth back into the busted gum.
“I don’t know why we’re trusting her judgment, Castiel, she’s a demon.” Chas whispers, like they can’t all hear his disdain, as he flashes a look at Ruby, his eyes glinting a round gold and back to brown as he drives through a red light.
“She is the only one who has direct knowledge of Lilith’s whereabouts, Chas. This seal is not negotiable, we must have faith in our orders to believe her.” Castiel’s tone is even as he stares out of the window.
It’s when Dean starts to notice there are no cars on the roads, there haven’t been for the past five minutes, just cracked black top and the bright lights of gas stations and 7/11’s that line up behind the streetlights.
The absence of life seems to hold it’s own tension, it’s own energy that fills up the cab and crawls against Dean’s insides as he for the first time in what feels like an age, he prays.
Friday